#yes this is so i can keep my daydream straight in my head.

[southislandwren]

some bitches (me) have fun by drafting up official paperwork for very fake things

[jeoncopi]

• — freedom overseas — •

GET INTO IT: feeling carefree each time he traveled shouldn’t be different for jungkook. as much as he wishes to feel like this back home, he can’t help but restrict himself at all times. - one thing about you working abroad and his schedules matching your timezones (better when it hits same destination), he could only wish and live for the best. ‘cause that’s exactly what he’ll get.

pairing: jungkook x reader.

word count: 3.4k

be aware of: graphic smut and unprotected sex (be always safe). reader can’t resist jk, car sex, jungkook smokes here so uhm.. y-yeah..

author’s note: since this is supposed to be a drabble (lol). hopefully my next work will end up being with more than 2k (lol) kisses and let me know what you think 😇. istg this story changed 2837 times hajaja

when you step outside the restaurant walking towards jungkook who’s smoking, footsteps froze at the sudden image.

he smokes? since.. when?

bewildered, you blink twice as your eyes carefully watch him take another hit of the small nicotine. this is definitely a whole new side of him you didn’t know about.. completely new, but it got you confused. you’re not crazy to remember him talking about his hate for cigarettes because of how much his dad used to do it back when he was little.. right? like that wasn’t a dream. you’re pretty sure he has expressed his disgust to you. almost agreeing with you.

sigh..

the more you look at him as you approach him feels like you can’t even get mad at him.

..why? well.. pinocchio wouldn’t be proud of you if you say he didn’t looked hot doing it.

ugh! what are these thoughts!

you definitely despise the smell of cigarettes! you even hate the sight of it, but why does he gives you quite the view? - you blame it on the way he carries himself with so much confidence yet— is so unbothered when he opens his mouth talking with your friends. his outfit too and how an all black combo always look so good on him.. but then, the simplest thing as him holding that tiny folded paper around his pointy and middle finger touching in between his soft and natural pink lips with a very boyish smile almost made you feel like having a lucid dream. why? because.. well, you were definely wet now.

what..? no!

yes, you are. you could feel it now. if only he could feel it through your panties..

mm.. no!!

mm.. yes!! you hated daydreaming fantasies with him like this but your body and mind could be very uncontrollable sometimes. feeling a single drop down your panties.. what can you do now? aren’t you supposed to hate this? you do! but why is your body reacting this way? it’s not wrong but it isn’t entirely right either considering you don’t like cigarettes.

deciding to ignore all the carnal thoughts running through your mind, you keep walking straight to him. as sticky and annoying as it feels.

“so.. is this your way of getting fresh air?” you start as soon as your friends started parting ways. tone rather calm compared to the troubled mindset you had a few seconds ago.

startling him, softly so. “ah.. ha. this.” he responds. eyes blinking on beat as soon as he grins. you watch carefully as his hand shakes the little tobacco rolled paper.

“yeah.. this.” shyly pointing at it, “how long has this being going on?” voice still calm, you didn’t put too much effort in questioning him. it’s his body at the end of the day and you know just how stubborn your boyfriend can get.

“mm..” smoke exhaling from his mouth and he’s mindfully careful when he does it tilting his head up for the smoke to follow that direction and not be even near close your entire face. “not long ago, actually. taehyung once brought this one vaper and i was curious by its smell each time he used it, so I bought one. strawberry ice cream, to be clear,” he laughed, you do too. “it was weird but I liked it.”

“hm..” slowly crossing your arms around your body you lean against his car in thought. not breaking eye contact even a second, jungkook could feel it. “what made you change your mind? m’not gonna lie. I’m surprised. I remember you once saying you hated it.”

and it’s like your gaze is looking for answers and jungkook can clearly see that. knows you too much. thinks it’s so cute too. the way your curiosity rises each time he takes another hit, he can trust your mind being full of unanswered questions for him. he knows what you mean as well as knowing how much you don’t like it either. but the fact that you aren’t mentioning none of it to him it just makes him look at you with nothing more but warm eyes. thinking he loves you too much.

“so do you.” he states by wanting to make that clear. so you know that he knows. so you know that he won’t and isn’t getting crazy about it, that he’s aware. but you could only understand that if he really explained why.

so that’s what he does.

“remember that day when I texted you about living one life?” you nod. “well, I decided to just give it a try. I want to try everything that I can when it comes to things that I want. be it temporally or not. during my whole life.. as long as I live, there’s probably not gonna be a second chance right?”

“right.”

“at least not in this body,” and he’s so soft spoken that when he shakes once more what’s left of the cigarette’s butt before taking his last hit, the sound of a familiar plastic sound resonates through your ears and that’s when you see him pull two tiny tabs of what seems to be gum off his pocket. and you can’t believe he just did that. suddenly the image you were seeing right now, not matching with his current actions. so you can’t help but give a small smile as soon as he handles one tab for you to take with his pretty big eyes.

he continues, “even though it damages my body a little, there’s a balance thing called in life. i’m not getting addicted and I don’t do it excessively-“

“I was worrying about that, actually..” you voice out, interrupting him. “you tend to get obsessive over things.”

it makes him smile, softly. “I know. but I won’t, I promise. you know my thing is drinking alcohol anyways.. even though that isn’t entirely good either..” making you laugh in unison as you lightly punch him.

“at least you’re aware.”

“hey!” he hugs you side ways. “candy isn’t so much good for your health either..” walking towards the side of his car so you can go.

“but i’m not obsessed.” you huff about it.

“could be. you do get a bit obsessive.” bopping your nose.

“stop!”

making him laugh, “okay.. hop on.”

“I hate you.”

“show me how much.” and.. he closes the door with the biggest playful smile.

oh.. no, not again.

and there you are, left with a big hysterical smile plastered on your lips as you try to breath in, breath out the sudden rush of your body. — come on! it’s not as if you weren’t fucking wet a few minutes ago as soon as you saw him do the things you hated the most.. right? ..you totally got this..

but who.. who were you lying to? it’s not like you could control your body when you haven’t seen him in weeks anyways..

yeah.. you were a mess.

still, you tried to play it cool. “are we heading back towards the hotel, right?” genuily asking.

he responds as soon as he closes his door. “yeah, why?” staring at you now. “wanna go somewhere else?” one palm touching your bare thigh when he asks.. you know there’s nothing wrong with it, and it should be normal at this point of your relationship too, but your hormones were getting the best of you so you just play it off, gently pulling his hand away as much as you didn’t wanted to. deep inside.

“not actually, was just asking.” it’s the truth, but jungkook only squinted his eyes before resting an arm on top of the handbrake, his face’s closer to yours. not enough for you to loose your sanity but close enough into getting a whiff of his rich cloudy scent. although, you can’t deny how fine he looked staring at you like that, his eyes always seemed to shine no matter the situation. only that this time around, everything you could sense from it was nothing more than desire flaming throughout his dark orbits.

“you know we can go wherever you want, right?” staying like that for a couple of seconds, all you can answer is a slight nervous “I know.” and jungkook can sense your sudden shyness. thinking is cute but this could only go one way or the other.. if you both play your cards right.

staring at you for a couple of seconds, jungkook’s piercing gaze switch between your lips along with your boobs and neck before getting ready to turn on the car.. making you exhale a little air after, as if you didn’t know you were holding your breath.

“originally, I wanted to get back so I could brush my teeth or something to be honest.” talking about smoking. “I’m not much of a fan of the aftertaste,” he laughs. “but if you want to go somewhere else,” a hand slides through your thigh.. again. only this time, he squeezes it two times. “I’m down for it too.”

one hand on the steering wheel, another one on your thigh.. it’s moments like these when you question if he knows how effortlessly irresistible he is.. sure, it might be something simple. he’s not doing much either. is just that his side profile and the way his hair lingers in his face and overall the way he’s shaped and how you can literally see the bump of his chest pop for how much he works out mark through his shirt that it makes you want to trace his pectorals with your fingers forever makes you want to eat him and that’s it but.. uh, isn’t that the definition of being so stupidly effortlessly hot?

when you softly press both your legs together, his hand seems to scalate close to your inner thigh..

oh jungkook.. perhaps, are you having the same thoughts as me?

still, you try your best to ignore it. “ah.. so that’s why you have gum with you, isn’t it?”

“caught.” rising both hands up as played guilty.

and as you stare at him.. you notice once again, he looked fine. your legs squeeze and you slightly arch your back when your gaze is back on the street still trying to ignore the finest hottie beside you. - jungkook, on the other hand, just smiles to himself and starts driving. you can’t help but give little sneak peeks at the way he gently but confidently grasps the wheel with one hand.. as soon as the other one approaches your thigh once again.. - he always did this but you were uncontrollable tonight. can’t help but immediately give him those eyes as soon as he reaches your beloved red light.

you swore going back to the hotel wasn’t the main priority. you wanted him now. - so slowly tilting your head to the side, your voice is airy when “babe..”

“mmh?”

and that’s when he sees you. you don’t say a word but he already knows what’s that thing you’re craving the most, and that thing it’s him. he doesn’t speak either. just staring at you under the red light, his hand traces a path towards your slowly opening legs. when you bite your lips into a smirk, his fingers are already pushing your panties to the side. confirming his most prominent thought. you’re wet as fuck.

“were you waiting for this?” eyes gazing up and down your body, his voice is cheeky when he asks. biting down both of his lip rings. “fuck. just how long were you this turned on?” playing with your clit ���and why didn’t you told me..” as your body twitches. “it makes me crazy..” whispering more to himself.

—

when you’re gripping the head of his seat increasing the pressure between your arms so you could balance your jumps more deeper and precisely above him, he feels like he could cum in any moment. controlling his breathing, he tries to concentrate in order not to but the way your breast bounce and how you manage to leave quick steamy kisses over his neck makes it so hard. mostly when he has this desire to kiss all over your chest and suck on your titties. but his hands are also gripping so hard at the side of the seat, he barely touches your legs and he feels like a teenager are over again.

the fuck is this coming from him not wanting to last? he blames it on the long time you haven’t seen each other. 3 weeks exactly without your kisses and physical touch.. when he remember fucking almost (if not) everyday when you stayed at his house or he stayed at yours. - there’s always this deep desire whenever you’re close to each other, jungkook doesn’t think it will ever go away and to be honest he doesn’t even want it to ever disappear. always thinking about if it’s you, then everything will be okay.

but as you’re both very into it, something similar like a flash, lights up a little the dark street jungkook managed to set you up. - you both ignore it at first but after two more times, you stop bouncing hard on him switching to slow circular movements that still makes jungkook bite his lips for how good you feel.

“don’t stop.” he’s confident, palming your ass.

“I think there’s someone watching us.”

“I’ve notice too.”

but you both end up stopping your movements regardless.

quickly looking around, the flashes has seemed to be gone but as you keep searching for someone, jungkook just stares at you only to caught your attention back by squeezing your ass two times. making your eyes meet as he mischievously smirks.

“I couldn’t care less from last time, you know it.” sensually kissing your lips. he’s provoking you all over again.. “let them have a show. it’s what they want.”

and you know he’s referring to that one time you both fucked on a balcony being overseas too. - paparazzis had caught you fucking and while you were worried about him getting bashed for it (for the blurry clips that spreaded back then), he ended up being so calm about it to the point of fighting with his company saying he shouldn’t feel guilty for wanting to fuck his girlfriend. - and while he understands the depth of why they asked him to be careful, he still thinks it’s just bullshit and that the people who love him for him, will just accept and be happy that he’s happy experiencing what every normal person does. so why everybody can be happy but him? he’s just the same human with needs and desires..

“but this isn’t-“

“stop worrying about me. I know you can’t help it, so let me just say there’s nothing wrong with us wanting to fuck.. I bet they’ve their own experience so why can’t we have ours?”

when you hold his face, you know what he means. knowing how hard it is for him to tell you to stop worrying about it since he once told you he couldn’t just tell that to you because it make him feel careless about your feelings, but you do really get him this time..

when it comes from his personality, a part of you loved that. love that he doesn’t care, love that he always chooses his happiness because at the end of the day he knows he might only have this one life. and even if he don’t, he still wants to enjoy it at his best and that’s why when he motions your hips to move by gripping the side of your waist, both of your bodies stick so close to each other that the image of him biting his lips as he contemplates your body makes you not want to regret this and so you don’t. realizing you’ll only have this from time to time.

“fuck this.” you moan to his ear when jungkook kisses are needy and steamy, confirming just how badly he wanted to try this.

talking about it it’s something but actually experience this feeling of sex in such a limited place (even when this car is very spacious) was really hot and adrenaline reaching. windows foggy and all, it almost feel like a movie. you believe that at this rate it’s even difficult to look at inside the car so if those strangers were really filming or whatever, they’re footage will be already ruined.

you smiled a little because of that. but it didn’t lasted long when you suddenly feel both of jungkook’s hands around your hips manhandling the way you were going to start bouncing on him.

“let them see if they’re so interested in me. I couldn’t care less.” he just doesn’t give a single fuck right now and that only makes you want him more.

see, whenever he’s on his ‘I don’t give a fuck’ moment.. you believe that’s when he’s the most sexiest and dangerous. - maybe you were too into him but each time he showed this side of himself.. you can’t help but love it and be turned on for it at the same time.

—

while he treats you like his personal fucktoy, he does gives you times were you could move at you own pace. but the sounds and the way he touched you were making it hard for you so there’s nothing left when you say, “I- I want to cum.” with such a tiny desperate voice, it makes jungkook grin.

“do it.” voice tender compare with his hot-messy image. “mm, i’ll cum too if you do.” moaning afterwards.

and the good thing is that he really can make himself cum once you do. all he has to do is concentrate in the way your walls contracts into him as if they were gonna swallow, he loves it each time. say it feels too rich, too tight for him to handle. - so when you’re both done, after driving for a while, you don’t see more cars trying to follow you.

“gonna sleep so well tonight, i’m so fucking happyyy” he singsongs as soon as he lays in bed, pulling you into his chest for a hug. “no more nightmares,” he kisses your forehead. “my princess is here.”

smiling to himself, you feel so shy and loved at the same time. gently kissing his lips. “I can say the same.” lovey-dovey eyes looking at him.

he caresses your hair. ”my pretty little princess.”

you smile. “I hope you don’t go hard on yourself.” saying after knowing what’s coming if there really was someone witnessing what happened earlier.

“don’t worry.” softly smiling, “I told you I didn’t cared, didn’t I?” caressing one of your cheeks.

“hm. but still.”

it makes him look at you with warms eyes. “keep being cute. i’m grateful that you worry this much about me..”

“don’t tease me.”

“I’m not teasing you. it’s the truth.” pause. “I just love how caring you are because that means you really must love me..” tone serious.

“of course I do, silly!” you tease him, making him laugh.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“let’s sleep now. we’ve so much things to do..”

“..and so much little time..” you follow.

“I know.” he sighs. “but we can make it.”

“we always do.” you proudly smile, he does too.

“I love us so much.” he says once again.

you laugh. “okay, let’s sleep sentimental boy.”

“you love me this way.”

“you know I do.”

and after teasing each other for a while, you both end up falling into your sleep for a brand new, busy and maybe more exciting day..

[simpforboys]

you’ve bewitched me

xavier thorpe x fem!reader

summary: xavier takes your virginity.

warnings: smut!! loss of virginity, unprotected piv, soft!xavier, he’s a fat simp, fluffy smut, best friends to lovers, oral (f and m receiving), swearing

based on this !!!

the way you couldn’t get out of xavier’s head was driving him insane. he never knew he could need crave someone so bad. 

he remembered the moment so vividly. 

you two were walking in the rain as he held the umbrella for the both of you. you didn’t remember exactly how the topic came up, but you and your best friend had started talking about sexual experiences. 

“a gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.” xavier joked you rolled your eyes and nudged his shoulder, making the both of you laugh. 

“just tell me,” you groaned. 

“fine. bianca wanted me to eat her out once. things escalated from there and we ended up fucking.” xavier confessed, keeping his eyes down. 

your gasp made him jump. “damn... my best friend gets hella pussy then.” you joked as he sarcastically rolled his eyes, face blushing in embarrassment. 

“now what have you done?” xavier asked you. 

you pursed your lips together. the sound of the rain falling with leaves crunching filled the silence. 

“go on,” xavier said. your silence was making him nervous. 

“i’m a uh, a virgin.” 

xavier bit the inside of his cheek while nodding at you. 

‘thanks for the silence, asshole.” you said jokingly, trying to ignore the way your face felt hot. 

xavier was trying to ignore the blood rushing to his pants. 

xavier had been in love with you for years. he’d dated other girls to try and get over you, but they never ended up being you. 

but ever since your confession, he couldn’t help but want you even more. the amount of nights he’d spent jerking off to a vision of you in his head, the way he would do absolutely anything for you. 

xavier was so lost in thought he didn’t even notice his phone dinging. the only thing that snapped him out of his daydreams was a knock on the door to his room. 

 he opened the door to see you standing there, eyes wide and anxious. 

“why haven’t you been answering your phone?” you asked him. you pushed past your best friend as he confusedly shut and locked the door behind you. 

“busy thinking. what’s wrong?” he questioned. 

“you know that siren boy, kent?”

xavier nodded, eyebrows furrowed tightly together in hesitation. 

“he asked me to come to his dorm to do... things.” you said in embarrassment. 

xavier bit his tongue so hard he didn’t even realize it was bleeding slightly. 

“what things, y/n?” 

“he asked me to give him a blow job.” you confessed quietly, sitting on xavier’s bed as his tall frame stood in front of you. he was wearing grey sweatpants with a red shirt on, his hair damp from a shower. 

the pang of jealousy that shot through xavier felt almost like a stab in the gut. 

“so why are you here then?” xavier asked, trying to keep his cool. 

“i need, uh, never mind. it was stupid for me to come here.”

“answer me, y/n.” 

“i’m scared, okay? i’ve never done anything like that before and i guess i just wanted... i don’t know... lessons?” 

xavier’s heartrate spiked tremendously. oh my god. 

“i’m sorry-” you began but xavier cut you off. 

“i mean, i can definitely help.” 

“really?” you questioned, staring straight up at him. your stomach hurt from anxiety and you swore you’d never noticed how gorgeous your best friend was until he looked at you with such lust in his eyes. 

“is this okay?” he whispered, leaning down as his left hand moved to cup your jaw. you nodded against his hand as he kissed you. 

you kissed back, the feeling weird. it felt like electricity was connecting your lips together, an addictive feeling. neither of you could get enough of it. 

xavier moved to lie you down on the bed, his lips not leaving yours. 

your own hands pulled his waist close to you, feeling his hard cock on your thigh. holy fuck, this is happening. 

“are you sure you want this?” xavier mumbled against your neck.

“mmm please, yes,” you gasped as you felt him suck a hicky.

he stopped momentarily to remove his shirt. his heart was racing as you also removed yours. he’d never seen you in a bra before and the look of your tits made him start to drool.

the way he stared at you made you feel incredibly nervous and as you tried to cover yourself up, he began sucking hickies along your boobs.

“xavier,” you whimpered. xavier swore that was the hottest thing he’s ever heard in his entire life.

“you’re so pretty, y/n.” xavier told you as his big hands removed your sweatpants and panties.

you undid your bra and suddenly realized how vulnerable and exposed you were. but yet, xavier made you feel safe.

you watched as his head went between your already shaking thighs and sucked teasingly close to your cunt.

“holy fuck!” you accidentally yelped as his tongue came in contact with your clit.

you felt him smirking against your pussy as he ate it like it was his last meal. your back arched as you gripped his hair.

the feeling of having your pussy getting eaten by your best friend was euphoric and you were on cloud 9.

“that feel good, y/n?” xavier hummed.

“so good, please don’t stop,” you begged.

the new pleasure was too much. you were a shuttering mess as he continued to suck your clit, two fingers stretching out your soaking wet pussy.

“i’m already gonna cum-“ you moaned.

“cum for me, y/n.” xavier’s pride was beaming as he watched you squirm for him. he was so fucking hard for you.

your body trembled as your orgasm hit you like a truck. your breathing was heavy and your skin was damp with sweat. 

xavier moved to sit back. 

“do you still wanna learn about that blowjob?” he asked after you calmed down from your high. you nodded as you got on your knees in front of xavier. 

your heart continued to pound. you shakily gripped his hard cock. xavier immediately noticed your nerves. 

“what’s wrong?” he questioned, worry written all over his face. 

“i don’t really know what i’m doing.” you let out a breathy laugh. xavier smiled from your confession, leaning down to kiss you. 

“i’ll help you. start by licking the tip.” 

you followed your best friend’s instruction. you began to lightly lick the tip of his leaking cock and felt him shudder against you. 

“fuck- now try sucking the head and jerk me off in your hand.”

you brought the head into your mouth and hollowed your cheeks. your right hand began to jerk the base of his cock, feeling xavier’s own hand come up to hold your hair back. 

“good girl. holy shit-” xavier whimpered. 

the sight laid out in front of you was engraved permanently in your brain. xavier, your best friend, with his head leaned back as you sucked his dick. he looked like a fucking god and you knew there was no going back from this. 

you started to gradually suck further down until you felt his dick twitch in your mouth. fighting the gag, you desperately focused on trying to get him to cum in your mouth. 

“so, so, so good for me, y/n.” 

tears formed in your eyes as you gagged on his cock. hearing xavier whimper  your name with praises almost made you cum again. 

“i’m so fucking close, if you don’t wanna swallow it then- oh shit.” xavier spurted hot cum into your mouth. the liquid tasted salty but not in a bad way. 

now it was xavier’s turn for his breathing to be jagged. you stood back up, your naked body in all its glory. you laid down on his twin size bed, his eyes following yours as you spread your legs. 

“please take my virginity, xavier. please.” you begged. 

xavier’s whole body was overwhelmed with ecstasy. “i don’t have a condom.” he breathed out, his body now hovering over yours. 

“i don’t fucking care- i need you so bad.” 

xavier kissed your lips again. you held his hand as he rubbed his tip and down your cunt. “tell me if you need me to stop.”

with that, he slowly pushed in. your pussy was so wet it was almost went in with one motion. he went all the way in slowly, watching your face for any sort of discomfort. 

“oh my god-” he whispered. your pussy felt amazing on his hard cock and all he wanted to do was fuck you. but this was about you. and he didn’t want to ruin this intimate moment for you. 

“you okay?” he whispered against your neck. 

“it feels weird.” you mumbled back. you felt stuffed, yet so needy. 

“can you please move?” you asked. 

xavier started to slowly move his hips in and out. his hair fell in front of his face. 

“fuck-” you moaned. 

his hand came down and rubbed circles against your clit. your body felt extremely hot from the overwhelming amount of pleasure it was receiving. 

“you feel so good. my good girl, right?” he asked, eyes looking directly into yours. 

you nodded quickly. “i’m all yours, xavier.” 

he continued to fuck your cunt. the only thing that was heard was the sound of skin slapping skin, both of your moans, and the bed squeaking. 

“i’m gonna cum again, xavier.” you announced. 

“me too,” he mumbled. the pleasure was becoming too much for him as your pussy clenched against him.

“holy fuck- shit.” your second orgasm overcame your body. xavier kept his finger on your clit, fucking you through your orgasm. when he felt his own, he quickly pulled out and jerked the tip of his cock. warm cum spurted out onto your stomach and his hips bucked against his hand. 

he plopped down next to you, both breathing heavily and tired. the temperature of the room was very hot and humid. 

after a couple moments of silence, xavier whispered, “i love you, y/n. not in a friend way. i want to be more then friends.”

“i love you too, xavier. i want to be more then friends.” 

xavier leaned up on his elbow, looking down happily at your face. 

“let me take you out tomorrow?” 

“it’s a date.”

xavier and you both smiled as he leaned down and kissed you once again. 

“also, fuck kent. i’ll tell him to go fuck himself.” 

you laughed at xavier’s attitude. 

“if it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t have been here.” you murmured, drawing circles on xavier’s chest. 

[chrolloluvr]

Hey, I saw some other headcanons similar to this and absolutely loved the concept! Adam x reader, love at first sight? Like he just makes it his mission to go out with reader afterwards?

Adam falling love at first sight

Note: TY FOR REQUESTING!!! This is also before the big fight on ep 8!

Female!Reader

Warnings: Cussing, creepy behavior, adam is smitten for you 🌺🌺

When he first sees you, he immediately was struck by an unfamiliar feeling. Who the hell is this chick?

He has never felt this way about Lilith, or even Eve, so what was different about you? He had to find out. And usually when he sees a pretty face on a woman, he thinks of vile, guttural thoughts. But with you, all he thought about was the way you looked so graceful, and how you carried yourself, and your beautiful eyes, and your glistening skin, and your-

Lute had violently interrupted him from his daydreaming, by basically yelling at him for the whole promenade to hear.

He had Lute immididietley do some detective digging on you. He at first was going to go up to you to ask for your digits, but he felt... nervous?

After lute reported back about her findings, she had told him all about you. He didn't know it, but he was truly in love. He just could not stop thinking about you, and how to get you.

He told Lute about these feelings, and when she explained, 'Sir, it seems you are in love', he flat out refuses it. He tries to convince himself you are just some hot broad, that he just happened to run into.

If he were in a meeting with Sera, he would have you running laps in his mind. Planning the next extermination? Goddamnit, get out of my head you stupid bitch!

He comes to the conclusion that to stop thinking about you, he needs to talk to you. So he sad Lute figure out your number and address, and thats when he tries to get with you.

This man will literally rehearse his first meeting with you in the mirror, as if he is a teenage boy going on his first date. But he isn't, and this is definitely not his first date, or at least, this is his first real time trying to impress a woman. Because usually, he does not need to act fly to get any girl he wants.

After you find out he is THE Adam, you flat out say no, because you dont want that kind of attention. So you start to ignore him. But that just motivates him to keep contacting you.

XXX-XXX-XXXX 5:31

Hey babes, wyd? you down for dinner tonight? Just you and me.

XXX-XXX-XXXX 5:33

Or maybe we can watch a movie and chill?

XXX-XXX-XXXX 5:47

C'mon babe, how can you refuse me? Ill meet you there in 30 ;)

XXX-XXX-XXXX 5:50

Hey, respond?

XXX-XXX-XXXX 7:10

Hey sugar, lets do something tmrw isntead since your clearly busy 😘

He will send you huge bouquets of flowers, along with a handmade book he made, filled with "anonymous love letters" which you can clearly tell are from him due to his messy handwriting.

He will then eventually "accidentally" bump into you. Every time he does, you are basically forced to talk to him and listen to his tangents, on how going out with him is the best choice you will ever make.

And honestly, he just does not stop bothering you. Even if you were to straight up tell him to leave you the fuck alone, he wont.

"Hey y/n whats up? Whacha doing tonight...? Maybe it can include me. im free yknow, if you ever wanna hang. Im great at choosing places or if you want you can choose-"

He is truly in love with you. He wants you to eventually be his future wife in his mind, making you the third. And in his mind, you already are.

If you just keep telling him off for months, hell, maybe even years, he will never get over you and your beauty.

If you eventually say yes to a date, he will be so excited, but will play it off because hes just chill like that. But he is down so bad for you, and honestly wants you all to himself.

[steddiealltheway]

Thinking of a steddie neighbor “enemies” to lovers AU. Oh my gosh it’s so long again and now there’s ronance. 

Steve is a middle school teacher, and he’s lucky to find a small house that’s close to the school he’s teaching at after the summer ends. In fact, he seems a little too lucky. It’s only after he’s signed all the papers that the old tenets show up to warn him not to buy the house because the crazy neighbor next door. 

Steve kind of shrugs it off and thinks nothing of it because he’s dealt with crazy before, and his students give him something new to deal with every day.  

During the move in process, he keeps glancing at the dark house next door. Sometimes he thinks he sees something, but whenever he looks there’s nothing there. Until one time when the neighbor seems to get something caught in the curtains and is unable to close them fast enough. But still, it’s only a small slit open and with the sun beating down, the glare is too harsh to really see anything. 

For the rest of the day, he doesn’t see a single curtain move. And by the end of the day, when all his boxes are moved inside his house, Steve wants more than anything to just go to sleep on the bed he tiredly put together. Some of the corners aren’t tucked in properly, and Steve definitely doesn’t remember what box he put his pillows in, but he collapses on his bed quickly on the verge of sleeping. 

Then, he can see, or rather hear, what the neighbors meant. There’s a screeching noise and then some loud crazy riffs being played from some guitar next door. Steve covers his ears and groans when he realizes that it’s not going to help anything. It’s as if the neighbor is playing their guitar outside the house.  

It’s a new era of Steve’s life, so instead of letting it go, he decides he’s going at the issue head on. He groans as he pries himself out of his bed. Okay, maybe letting it go would be a better idea, but what happens when school is back in and he needs to sleep? 

This is absolutely the right decision. 

As he steps out the front door, he instantly realizes the problem. The neighbor has cracked the window next to Steve’s house as if he’s trying to be a nuisance. Maybe the old tenets were right. 

As Steve approaches the front door, he glances around the porch and catches sight of a skeleton sitting on a small chair with a mug attached to its bony hand. Upon closer inspection, Steve notices it’s a Garfield mug which makes him smile a little. Maybe a little crazy isn’t too bad. 

But the blasting from the house is bad. Steve takes a deep breath and loudly knocks on the door. The music halts almost immediately and it takes a few moments and a bit of cursing from the other side of the door for it to finally creak open. 

Oh Christ. 

The door slowly opens revealing longer dark curly hair, pale skin, big doe eyes, full lips, and altogether Steve’s absolute daydream which he guesses might quickly turn into a nightmare as the man smirks. “Hello, my handsome new neighbor,” the man flirts easily. 

Steve won’t play this game though. He’s too smart now to open up this easily. His mouth forms into a tight straight line before he corrects the man, “Steve. And you are?” 

“Eddie. A pleasure to meet you,” the neighbor replies with a bright smile as he bows dramatically. 

Steve nearly groans at the sight of his head going dow- 

No. He’s not doing that. That’s a recipe for disease. Instead, he’ll get to the point. “Nice to meet you, too, Eddie,” Steve ignores how nice the name falls out of his mouth as he continues, “It would be even nicer if you closed your windows or turned down your amps this late at night.” 

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow, and he glances down at his watch. “It’s ten o’clock.” 

Steve sighs, “Yes, and I need to sleep.” 

The neighbor eyes Steve up and down for a moment. “What if I kept playing?” 

Steve has no idea why he says it, maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, tiredness from the move, or the fact that his neighbor is a bit overwhelmingly hot. But he answers, “Then you’re starting a war.” 

It’s clearly the wrong thing to say because the tampered down mischief in Eddie’s eyes light up. He holds out his hand, and Steve reluctantly takes it. “War it is,” Eddie says with a shake of his hand. “Goodnight, Steve.” Eddie squeezes his hand one time then releases it. The door is closed before Steve can process what’s happening. 

With a sigh, Steve makes his way back to his house. Before he can make it there, the loud music already starts blasting again.  

A little crazy is definitely bad. 

Nearly an hour later, the music continues as Steve desperately tries to put a pillow over his head to block it out. He’s never been one that’s able to sleep with loud noises, but, no matter what, he will still wake up early in the morning and be unable to fall back asleep. 

He groans and turns to the clock he ended up unpacking instead of sleeping. A few seconds until eleven o’clock. He watches as the seconds tick by, and as soon as it hits eleven the music stops. Strange.  

But then the music continues again, and Steve nearly screams. But then he realizes… it’s different. It’s softer as if he’s playing a lullaby. And as much as Steve hates to admit it, it’s kind of lulling him to sleep. 

It’s definitely not on purpose though. Even from their brief interaction, Eddie doesn’t seem to be the type to go easy when calling war. Maybe he’s just trying to get into Steve’s head. 

As the soft music drones on, Steve finds himself drifting off to thoughts about his new neighbor.  

-:-:-:-:-:- 

The next morning, Steve wakes up to the sight of the sun rising and blinding him through his windows. He needs to hang up his curtains. He stretches and slowly gets out of bed knowing he won’t be able to go back to sleep. 

Time to start unpacking. He makes his way to the garage and peaks out the window on his way. All of Eddie’s curtains are drawn, and Steve doubts that he’ll be awake for hours. 

When he opens the garage door, he spots something… interesting. Something that will make Eddie’s life a little miserable… 

A lawnmower. 

Now, Steve knows the lawn doesn’t really need to be mowed at the moment. But to get revenge… it’s worth it. 

He still waits a few hours until it’s a somewhat reasonable hour for mowing. He doesn’t want the other neighbors hating him. He decides to start up the lawnmower right next to the window Eddie left open the night before. 

A few seconds later, Steve sees the curtains yanked open and the window slammed down. He lets himself smirk a little at the mini tantrum. As he’s finishing up the first strip, he hears the front door to Eddie’s house slam shut even over the lawnmower. 

Steve turns the other way to face his and Eddie’s houses as he mows the next strip. He glances up and waves with a big smile. Eddie is swamped in a large black blanket and squinting, or rather glaring as if the sun had personally offended him. 

Steve stops the lawnmower and takes a minute to gloat. As the noise dies down, Steve asks, “Not a morning person?” 

Eddie just frowns at him. It looks as if he’s taking all his brain power to come up with a response. His voice, low and raspy with sleep replies, “I would be if I had a better view.” 

Steve huffs but looks down at his shirt that’s already starting to get a little damp with sweat. The morning sun in the summer is overwhelmingly hot, and Steve doesn’t want the farmer’s tan. He winks at Eddie before stripping his shirt off and tossing it at him. 

“Better?” Steve asks as the shirt hits Eddie and falls on the deck. 

“Much better, thank you,” Eddie says and has the nerve to join the little skeleton on his porch to sit and watch as Steve mows. 

Steve tries not to think too much about it, but he’s overly aware of the attention. Not that he doesn’t like it, but he feels like he’s not winning the war. Time to call in Robin for reinforcement.  

-:-:-:-:-:- 

The next few days pass by with Eddie playing loudly every night until eleven o’clock when he finally starts playing soft tunes that lull Steve to sleep. Steve pays him back by one morning mowing Eddie’s lawn while he watches. The next morning, he spends weed whacking his own yard, and the next day is spent weed whacking Eddie’s. Every time, Eddie is woken up but sits outside. 

If Steve is being completely honest, the music helps him sleep, so he doesn’t feel like he’s losing the war too bad. But today is the day he figures out how to win because it finally worked in Robin’s schedule for her to come over later. 

And after Steve shares the whole story after dramatically telling her it’s too much to share over the phone, he regrets it as Robin bursts out laughing. “You’re telling me,” Robin stops to laugh again, “You’re telling me that you’re complaining about going to bed an ‘hour later,’ but the reason you go to bed early is because you struggle to fall asleep. And his music is actually helping you, so you’re basically going to sleep at the same time. Plus, you’re doing his yard work while he ogles you, and you think this is a war?” 

“Yes, that’s exactly what this is,” Steve says seriously. No other explanation.  

“No, this is a weird mating ritual. God, your neighbors must hate you,” Robin comments before laughing again. 

Steve sighs, “Robin, I seriously want to win against this guy. I mean, I even nicely asked him to stop playing so late.” 

Robin eyes him. “Did you really?” 

“Probably not,” Steve answers honestly, knowing it’s no use to lie to Robin. She figures out everything anyway. 

“Here’s a plan,” Robin says opening a box and looking through it. “Why don’t you just ask Eddie’s neighbor what they do when he plays late at night? They clearly have some solution. And the true way to win the ‘war’ is by letting it not affect you anymore. Then, you don’t have to do yard work, and you’ll be taking away his view in the morning.” 

…honestly, it’s a great plan. It really is. So much so that it’ll probably stop this whole war thing in its tracks. “No, I have to win this thing,” Steve replies instead of agreeing.  

Robin sighs and grabs him by the wrist. “Come with me.” Instead of giving him the option, she practically drags him out the door. “Now, we’re going to meet this next-door neighbor of the infamous Eddie and give you a reasonable solution before you do anything irrational.” 

Before Steve can disagree, Robin has him dragged out the door and two houses down. She knocks on the door. “And maybe you’ll see that the solution was so simpl-” 

The door opens and out comes the other neighbor. Steve watches as Robin’s jaw drops as she takes in the sight of the shorter girl with curly hair and big blue eyes. “Hi?” The girl says.  

Robin’s mouth opens and closes. 

“Hey,” Steve says and reaches out his hand to greet her. “I’m your neighbor two houses down, and this is my best friend Robin. Sorry for stopping by in the evening. She was just telling me that I needed to introduce myself to some of the people in the neighborhood. Right, Robin?” Steve prompts when he notices that the girl is eyeing Robin too. 

“I’m Nancy,” the neighbor says with a smile. She reaches her hand out to Robin. 

“Robin,” Robin blurts out and takes a moment to shake Nancy’s hand. 

The two girls shake hands for an embarrassingly long time. And Steve hates to interrupt for Robin’s sake, but he has to ask, “So, we were wondering how you dealt with Eddie’s music at night.” He cringes as he takes in how blunt he is, but he’s honestly curious. 

Nancy laughs and replies, “Honestly, it was much worse before you moved. He would play until the early AMs.” 

Steve thinks she must be wrong. Maybe he continues playing that lullaby stuff through the night. “You mean the softer lullaby stuff, right?” 

Nancy shakes her head with a small smile. “Not at all. I’ve never heard him play like that before. Then again, my solution is noise cancelling headphones.” 

Robin smacks Steve on the arm, “I told you the solution was simple. Plus, this really doesn’t sound like war, does it?” 

Nancy leans against her doorway and asks, “Is doing his yard work supposed to be war?” 

“That’s exactly what I said! See, Steve,” Robin says with a bright smile that Steve notices catches Nancy’s eye. 

“Fine, then you two can see what happens when I don’t do anything tomorrow morning,” Steve says resting his hand on his jutted-out hip. Robin’s lip twitches as she holds back on making fun of him for the “mom stance.” 

Robin smiles and says, “Well, I don’t have anywhere to be tonight or tomorrow morning, so I will stay the night.” 

“I don’t have anywhere for you to sleep so you can’t,” Steve lies, knowing exactly where the air mattress is packed away. 

“You can stay here,” Nancy suggests. “I’ll also be up early to spy on the drama.” 

Steve recognizes the exact moment Robin processes what she’s said as her eyes widen a bit. “Promise I’m not a murderer,” Nancy says with a wink that seems to further melt Robin’s brain. 

As much as Steve doesn’t want to give Robin more reason to make fun of him in the future, he has to give it to Nancy for how direct she is. He thinks he’s gonna like this girl.  

“Well, we’ll go grab Robin’s stuff, and she’ll be back shortly. I’m going to crash pretty soon before the show starts,” Steve says with a smile. “It was very nice to meet you.” 

“It was nice to meet you, Steve. I’ll see you soon, Robin,” Nancy says with a wave as she closes the door. 

“Holy shit.” 

“Robin, please save your freak out for a few moments when we get back inside my house. She can see you through the windows.” 

Robin whispers under her breath a few more expletives on their quick walk back. “Holy shit!” Robin yells as they get inside. 

Oh boy. 

A few pacing freak outs, a quick pep talk, and a lot of fixing hair and makeup in the bathroom mirror later and Robin is finally on her way to Nancy’s. Steve watches through his window as she makes her way down the street. He has no idea how the hell it happened, but he’s happy for her. 

…hopefully Nancy isn’t a serial killer… 

Okay, maybe it’s a bad idea, but Steve needs to ask Eddie. He makes his way out his back door and sneaks over to Eddie’s house to the side window that’s already slightly open. He knocks on it a few times.  

Eddie opens the curtains and lifts up the window some more. “Why hello Romeo. Why are you at my window instead of the door? Not that I’m complaining of course.” 

“Nancy and my friend are spying on me. But I needed to ask if Nancy is a serial killer.” 

Eddie stares at him for a moment. “Have you met Nancy?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then you know she isn’t a serial killer,” Eddie replies. “Is Robin the girl you were walking and holding hands with earlier?” 

“Is that jealousy I’m hearing?” 

Eddie shrugs. “Just trying to get in the head of the enemy.” It’s clear that Eddie is trying to be nonchalant about the whole thing but is failing to do so. 

Rather than torture him by not answering, Steve quickly insists, “She’s my best friend. And she’s also staying the night at Nancy’s.” 

Eddie sits on the window ledge. “Do they know each other?” 

“Just met,” Steve says with a wide smile. 

Eddie laughs and Steve can’t help but join him. Gosh he looks gorgeous. 

Nope. Enemies. Right. 

“I always knew Nancy had it in her. So, Robin’s… cool, right? I’ve got to watch out for Nance’s sake,” Eddie says and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. Steve has the urge to tuck in the other side as well. 

“Yeah. She’s great. Incredible really. Always has had my back,” Steve says trying not to gush too much. He needs to get out of this conversation fast before he does something dumb like continue it as if they are friends. “Well, I’m heading off to bed.” 

“And I’m heading off to practice,” Eddie says with a wink. “Goodnight, Steve.” 

“Goodnight, Eddie,” Steve replies and holds eye contact with him for a moment as he walks away. 

Ending this war will probably be a good thing. 

-:-:-:-:-:- 

The next morning, Steve wakes up at his usual time, but instead of going to his garage, he starts to go through the boxes he hasn’t unpacked. He stares at the pile and sighs, “Yeah, this is gonna suck.” 

A few hours later, and there’s a knock at Steve’s door. Probably Robin bored because nothing is happening. 

He makes his way to the door and opens it. Not Robin. “Hey, Eddie. What’s up?” Steve asks, leaning against the doorway. 

Eddie is weirdly not wrapped up in a blanket. He has his hands in the pockets of black, ripped jeans and rocks back on his heels. “I was just… checking if you’re okay.” 

Steve stares at him for a moment and takes in the slight look of worry all over his face. He nods, “Yeah, I’m fine.” 

Eddie nods back and glances down. “I was just worried because… you weren’t waking me up with the usual ruckus. Thought something must've happened." 

"Just unpacking this morning instead," Steve says with a shrug. Better to play it off as if it's nothing rather than giving Eddie the impression of the feelings that have already started to form. 

"Right, well. I'll... head back then," Eddie says with a little wave. He makes it about two steps back before he turns around. "Is this about the music? I'll stop playing so late if it's really bothering you." 

This is the part where Steve is supposed to say yes to this, send Eddie on his way, then celebrate. But after four days of this routine and so many nights of restful sleep... "No, it's not... it's not that. It’s um...” Steve trails off at a loss for words. “The war’s still on.” 

Eddie smiles but it doesn’t seem entirely genuine. “Ah, getting in my head I see. I’ve gotta hand it to you, Steve, you aren’t just looks.” 

Steve watches as Eddie leaves, shoulders tense as he walks back to his house. He catches sight of two figures two doors down waving at him. Robin and Nancy look like they’re huddled together, and shit, if Robin can do it so can Steve. 

“Eddie!” Steve yells out. Eddie stops in his tracks and slowly turns around. “How about we make a peace treaty over dinner tonight?” 

Eddie’s face slowly lights up with a genuine smile. “I’d really like that.” 

“Finally!” A voice that sounds a lot like Nancy yells breaking the moment a bit. There’s loud laughter and a celebratory screech that is definitely Robin. 

“Tell me,” Eddie says walking toward Steve’s porch, “How does one deal with loud and annoying neighbors?” 

Steve laughs. “I have no idea, but I think my answer and Nancy’s will be very different.” 

“Oh yeah? What are your answers?” Eddie asks, now walking up the steps.  

“Well, you have to ask other questions first like: Are they one hundred percent your type to the point that you start a war with them that turns into you doing their lawn shirtless just to get their attention while they lull you to sleep at night?” 

Eddie dramatically taps a finger on his chin and squints off as if he’s searching for the answer. “I have to say that Nancy... her answer will most likely be ‘no’ to that. I’m not sure though. Maybe we should ask her.” 

Steve snorts and shoves at Eddie’s arm. Eddie locks eyes with him for a moment, and Steve can’t help but wonder if he could get lost in them forever. “Eddie?” 

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes out as his eyes trace over Steve’s face and track down to his lips. 

“Want to make that peace treaty over breakfast instead of dinner?” 

Eddie smiles. “Absolutely,” he says and walks past Steve into his house before he’s invited inside. Steve can’t even be upset about it. 

A glance down the street and Steve sees that Nancy is also heading inside but Robin trails behind looking towards Steve. He lifts his hand up and Robin does the same resulting in a quick air high five. They’re going to have a lot to talk about later. 

My bday ficlet to you <3

[fools-ramblings-and-whatnot]

All 7 Yuus are form part of OG!Yuus innermost person, their most innate self. However they do still carry most of OG!Yuus other character traits and memories.

based on this post

*7 Yuus grooming, petting, and cuddling Grim*

Grim:*Getting kisses and pets from everyone* Hey! Stop passing me around like a can of tuna!

Adeuce, watching from the sidelines *inside their heads*: (That looks so troublesome but so fun...I want the Yuus attention too)

.

.

.

Riddle, making all the Yuus line up so he can give them name tags: Ok here's a name tag

Each Yuu everytime he pins them a name tag

Reckless Yuu: Thanks, Rids!*pats his shoulder*

Curious Yuu: Thank you !*pokes his side*

Tired Yuu:Thank..s *yawns* *falls on top of him, sleepy*Riddle.*pokes his cheeks*

Riddle:Hey!Hey-!

Heroic Yuu:*catches his back* Thanks Riddle *smiles and ruffles his hair*

Riddle:??!

Selfless Yuu: *gets Tired Yuu from Riddle* Thanks Riddle, *winks at him*

Riddle: what...whats happe-???

Daydreamer Yuu: Thanks so much, my dear *kisses his cheek*

Riddle:*about to explode* why?? the protocols...huh?!!!

Naive Yuu: Oh? are we doing a group thing?! Huggsssss!*Hugs Riddle in between along the other Yuus they could hug*

Riddle: *surrounded by Yuus* ah..eh..whaaaaa?!!!

Cater: We should probably rescue him *a bit jealous*

Trey:Ahaaa...*sighs in tired*

.

.

.

*Leona sees 7 Yuus waiting for him in the lobby*

Leona: I am too tired for this shit. *Turns around*

*All the 7 Yuus standing up and running after him, fearlessly grabbing him.*

Leona: Why are you all so damn clingy?! *Doesnt do any effort to push them away*

*timeskip*

*Everyone sleeping around him, with Daydreamer Yuu snuggling up close*

Ruggie: Dang, Leona. You get 7 Yuus?!Down with the greedy bourgeosie!*joking*

Jack: *Jealous stare*

.

.

.

Azul *proud of himself*: My what a workforce.

Jade: You really got all of them working.

Azul: Well who am I to deny poor unfortunate souls?

*Floyd just squeezing Naive Yuu in the corner*

Jade:Well most of them are working.

Azul: well yes-what?!*looks besides him*

Daydreamer Yuu:Hmm? what? I am on my break :) *shameless smile as they cling to Azul's side* Wanna eat with me?

Azul, keeping his cool: Why yes---

*sounds of fighting1*

Reckless Yuu *arguing with a customer*; YA WANNA GO YA PUNK?!

Heroic Yuu: Hey now, stop now. Thats not very polite

Reckless Yuu:Fuck off!

*Selfless Yuu juggling everything and tripping cuz the the two are fighting*

*Reckless and Heroic Yuu fighting*

*Curious Yuu yapping away with a customer ignoring every other one*

*Tired Yuu falling asleep while walking and spilling food on someone*

Azul:Maybe later...

Daydreamer Yuu, offended:*holds to Jade instead* Shall we?

Jade, with a mocking smirk at Azul: Sure

.

.

.

*Kalim throws a party for all Yuus*

Kalim: The more the merrier!

*Tired Yuu, Reckless Yuu, and Curious Yuu*: Yeyyy! Free food!!!

Selfless Yuu, packing tupperwares of food: Thank you!

*Daydreamer Yuu and Heroic Yuu side by side Jamil*

Heroic Yuu: Let ne help you :) *helps him get the food to the table*

Daydreamer Yuu: Ah, Jamil-senpai how positively admirable of you!*sings praises as they help with the food*

Jamil:*Doesnt mind the help and kinda happy with the attention* sure sure...

*Daydreamer Yuu and Heroic Yuu just stuck by Jamil's side the entire time*

.

.

.

Idia: *Hides behind his blanket as the Yuus took over his room* No way! This is like, straight out of a mediocre harem manga trope!

.

.

.

*All Yuus being made to dress up by Vil*

Rook:Magnificent!*Takes a shit ton of photos*

Epel: Everyday my dorm gets weirder...

*Daydreamer Yuu smiling dreamily at Vil*

Vil:*proud smile*

*All other Yuus sighing in exhaustion after being made to try on clothing that suits their personality for 3 hours*

.

.

.

*Malleus, surrounded by so many Yuus and receiving so much attention all at once*

Lilia: The weather will be great today

Silver: I think so too

Sebek:*tries to stop all the Yuus from surrounding Malleus, but gets into a shouting match with Reckless Yuu instead*

*All other Yuus attention go to Sebek and Reckless Yuu as they try to stop the fight*

Malleus who was left behind:...

*Thunder in the skies*

[bananayuyu]

Between the Blinds

Pairing: Yeosang x f reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 5.8k

Summary: Your favorite coworker is handsome, but oh so quiet. It's not until you stumble upon a lewd scene at work that you understand who he really is.

Warnings: smut, MDNI, masturbating at work, handjob

A/n: I absolutely love ateez in suits so that is what I imagined for this entire fic. Also, I would generally advise against many of the things that happen in this fic, but it is certainly fun to fantasize. Hope you enjoy! :)

Yeosang was by far your favorite coworker.

From the moment you met you felt a spark there when your eyes met, like a tiny thread suddenly stretched between your brains so you could feel and think everything he was feeling and thinking. He was quiet, the quietest in the office. He worked in a small office on his own, at his request. He was smart and efficient, and the boss liked him. So did everyone else, from a distance. He didn't let anyone in and never socialized; no one really knew him or knew much about his life. All they knew was his stunning face, his perfectly shaped body, and on the occasion when he had to use it, his deep and expressive voice. Many people in the office were in love with him; it was a regular topic of conversation.

It was your first real job post-college, your first true taste of independence. You had always been so responsible, getting straight As and going to bed at 10pm sharp. Your life was impressive from the outside but lacked intrigue, and you knew you were prone to daydreaming and delusion to keep yourself entertained. It was something almost no one knew about, and you had no intention of changing that. Your infatuation with Yeosang, and especially your certainty that he felt the same, was something you kept to yourself.

It started the second day. You were in the kitchen making coffee first thing in the morning. As you stood in front of the machine you yawned and closed your eyes, oblivious to Yeosang entering. He moved quietly, as he did everything quietly. You were wearing a fitted black top and tight black slacks, the shape of your body on full display. Yeosang just kept staring at you from the side, his eyes scanning your body, your thighs and your hips, and finally landed on your chest. His reaction to you was visceral and uncontrollable, taking him by surprise. He gulped as you finally looked over to him, clearly catching him checking you out. You looked at him with wide eyes and raised eyebrows, confused if you saw what you thought you did.

"Sorry, sorry." The words tumbled out of him. He turned and walked away, a blush beginning to spread over his cheeks. You looked down to see his coffee mug on the counter, still empty. Filling it, you couldn't help but smile at the way your body felt warm, his look of lust replaying in your head.

"Come in," he says when you knock on his door, his mug of coffee in your hand.

"You forgot your coffee," you say.

"Oh, you didn't have to. Thank you, though," he responds, this time more smoothly.

"It's Yeosang, right?" you ask, having not forgotten since your introduction the day before but wanting to make conversation.

"Yes. And you're y/n, right?" he responds.

"Yeah. I started yesterday."

"I hope everyone has been welcoming so far."

"Oh yes. They all say you never talk to anyone, though. Is that true?"

Yeosang's eyes widen, caught off guard by how direct you are. "Well, yes, generally. But you can always come knock if you have a question. I'm just not really, well, very social. I prefer to work on my own."

"That's fair," you say, staring at his perfect lips, at the way his nose slopes so gently. He probably can't deal with unwanted attention, you imagine. But he stares back and you feel it, that first tug of the thread connecting your minds, your own cheeks suddenly flushing just as his are. "I like being around people, sometimes," you say, knowing the words are clumsy and so simple but needing something to say. The little office feels warm and you feel yourself melting, wanting nothing more than to live in this moment forever. But suddenly another knock sounds on the door.

"Come in," Yeosang responds, just as before. Your bosses head appears around the door, and your chest suddenly tightens. He asks Yeosang a quick question and reintroduces the two of you; you catch a slight look of amusement Yeosang gives you, at the way your boss is being overly professional.

And that's how it began, always a bit awkward, always a bit tense. There was the time you thought you saw a bug in the kitchen and screamed and grabbed his arm, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up that day because someone had cranked the heat too high. Your hand on his arm felt electric, the skin to skin contact even more intoxicating than you could imagine. Then there were the notes, little jokes or observations he left for you on your desk. Always tucked under your coffee mug at the corner of your desk. And your responses, always laid on top of the stacks of paper you had to bring him. There was the time he asked you to print something for him, then came into the printer room and stood right behind you, reaching over to grab something on a shelf above. You had heard him enter the room that time and tried to move out of the way but he held you in place with one hand on your waist and you stood frozen, feeling the tense muscles of his chest and abdomen against your shoulders. There were the early mornings which no one but you two volunteered for, when clients from oversees wanted to video conference at a certain time or meet last minute in the office before a flight. As he made you both coffee you sat on the counter next to him, your eyes roaming his face.

"What do you want?" he'd ask, rolling his eyes.

"You, duh," you would say sarcastically, but you were only half joking, of course. He would laugh, a rare sight and one you felt priviledged to see. "I'm just making sure you make my coffee right, dummy."

"I always make your coffee right, smart-ass," he'd reply.

"Fine, I'll leave you to it then," you'd say, jumping off the counter and sauntering away. It was always fun, always got you excited. You barely even needed the caffeine to be awake for those early morning meetings, as long as Yeosang was there.

It continued like this for a while, for longer than you expected. You weren't really sure where it would head or what could even come of it. For one, you worked together. And your interactions were still sometimes awkward or stilted; though it was almost more endearing, it also made you wonder if he even liked you. Or if you were just two coworkers, joking around to pass the time. Regardless, your feelings grew and grew, and there was nothing you could do to stop them. When you asked your best friend what to do, she recommended being a bit bolder.

"Who cares if you work together, you probably won't in a year. It's not like you're gonna be there forever. And if you really like him... just go for it."

"I do," you said, sighing. Sighing, because when did this situation get so complicated? For you, emotionally, that is. It was all so fun usually. But you felt something building inside you, and realized you really did care. It was less than wholesome, you had to admit. And you wanted it, wanted him badly. It wasn't like you often came across people who you found so damn attractive.

So you decided to do something about it.

The next week you wore your favorite long sleeve t-shirt, one that's hem came right below your belly-button, hugging your body just the way you liked. It was a little casual for your current job, but that didn't matter. The slight strip of skin that showed above your pants was suddenly cold as you entered the office in the early morning, another morning with just Yeosang. As you made coffee you waited for him, and finally he entered, later than you expected. He was hard to read but if any word described him that day he seemed distant. He took one look at you and did a double take, his tired eyes passing over your outfit. He looked almost disapproving, and it made you laugh. Once again he was unable to take his eyes off you and you felt sure, if only for a moment, that he liked you too. But that itself wasn't enough.

"You did your buttons wrong," you say, walking up to him and unbottoning a few on his shirt, the words a complete lie. He looked completely professional and put together, as he always did. But you wanted to touch him, you needed to see his reaction. You redid the buttons and smoothed the shirt down over his torso, then ran a hand along his arm and redid the button on his cuff. You could feel his body tensing, and heard him gulp. You looked up at him, his pupils larger than you expected in the brightness of the office. And then you ran your hand up to his chest and felt his heart beat, strong and very fast.

"Your heart is racing, are you that nervous for our meeting?" you teased, hoping to get a reaction out of him. But none of it was working. He just stared at you, his face nearly blank as he clearly was working very hard to keep it that way. You knew everything you did wasn't the most creative or forward but still, how was he not reacting? And why wouldn't he say something by now if he liked you too? Your frustration at him was building and you knew it was illogical. The months of flirting were making you pent up and you needed something, anything, from him to feel some relief.

Soon enough the normal day started, and everyone else had arrived. It felt like your opportunity was missed, but you were determined not to let the day go to waste. You thought on it for a while, as you made copies and busied yourself by pretending the machine was giving you trouble. You went back and forth with yourself, weighing the risk of your ideas. Eventually you decided you didn't care to be careful.

How do you look so fine in just a plain black and white suit? the note read, sitting atop the pile of copies you made for him. You set it in his office with a thud, running out without even making eye contact with him. Your heart pounded; it was your first real and direct admission that you found him attractive. Now he must have something to say, you thought. He must have some reaction.

You had to wait another hour, the time passing agonizingly slowly, and again you had to busy yourself with your work and pretend everything was fine. As Yeosang got ready to leave he came by your desk; if you hadn't spent months observing him so closely you probably wouldn't have been able to tell his gait was off, betraying his nervousness.

"These copies came out poorly, can you make some more before you leave today? You can just leave them in my office," he said, his voice clearly full of tension, his volume just high enough for you to hear. He too wasn't making eye contact with you, his gaze stuck on the far wall, like the blankness of it was somehow mesmerizing.

"Oh, um, of course. Sorry about that. I'll go redo them here in a moment," you say awkwardly.

"Great, thanks," he says, walking away as he swallowed thickly.

You glance down at the stack to see a small piece of paper folded on top, the top page of the stack appearing to have been copied just fine. You glance around to see if anybody is watching you, your heart in your throat in anticipation of Yeosang's response. You hear his office door open and close as you pick up the note, and see his back swiftly exit the front doors of the office. He is rushing, there's no doubt. Your excitement builds at this, feeling like he must have written something naughty, or at least not very work appropriate.

Finally, after one more check of everyone around, you open the note.

Be careful, smart-ass

I'm your coworker

And that was it.

A quick pang of embarrassment runs through your chest, your breath catching in your throat. That's it? you think. How the hell could you have read it all wrong? He clearly, obviously likes you too. But the note is so short, it's impossible to read between the lines. The first line is somewhat jokey, an inside joke between just the two of you. But the second, so short and plain, is hard not to interpret seriously. Maybe he doesn't like you, at least not like that. Or maybe he's warning you not to do things like that at work. But if not here, where? He keeps everything about himself private and leaves before you every day.

As you sit stewing in your embarrassment, the feeling starts turning more to anger, more to frustration. Well, you thought, if that's how it is, I guess I was wrong. You doubt he wants you to entirely ignore him but that's what you pledge to do, if for no other reason than to save your feelings. You certainly weren't going to let a coworker ruin how you feel at your job. Things had been going smoothly on the professional front, and you weren't going to let this screw things up for you. You decided it was time for seriousness and responsibility again. It killed a part of you, the part that had so enjoyed messing with Yeosang and fantasizing. But your anger and frustration at him was winning out. No more playing around. Even if he meant it jokingly, he wasn't making that clear. And that pissed you off more than anything, that he wasn't letting you in or telling you how he truly felt.

The next weeks are agony, to put it lightly. Self doubt plagues you constantly as you question your initial reaction, wondering if being so upset with him is even warranted. But then you think of the months of flirting, the months of trying to pry open a small door and him never even giving you an inch. You hadn't realized it at the time but looking back your frustration had been building, every single day that he joked with you but stayed so guarded. You considered that maybe your reaction was a bit unwarranted. But it made sense to you. There was just something in you, something that needed more of him, that needed access to the human parts.

It was dull but it was work, and you made it through. You thought is was probably for the best, that you were doing the right thing by not flirting with your coworker anymore. Things almost felt like they had reached a new equilibrium, and you felt like you could be just as satisfied with your work again, once you finally processed your little crush and the embarrassment over the note you left. How utterly childish, you thought. You were determined to be a professional adult. Unfortunately, one of your coworkers had other plans for you. It was out of nowhere, caught you completely off-guard, and unfortunately undid in a moment the nonchalance you had worked so hard to attain.

"Y/n, don't you think Yeosang's been weird lately?" Nora, your desk neighbor asks you one day. You were truly focused on reading a report and felt snapped back to reality, your heart squeezing in your chest at the mention of him. Of course, you think, he hasn't been normal cause he hasn't been flirting with me. Cause I've been fucking avoiding him. But you can't tell her that.

"What do you mean?" you ask instead, giving her an encouraging look. It isn't like you to be interested in talking about office gossip, so anytime you are interested your coworkers don't hold back.

"I swear he takes forever to respond to my emails now. And Jun said the same. I know he's always been quiet but he like barely leaves that office of his anymore. It's like he's hiding away in there. But then why is he not responding to our emails quickly? He used to just fine. And if he's in there all the time he should be even faster, if anything."

"Oh, I hadn't noticed," you lie, swallowing the lump forming in your throat, trying to keep your racing thoughts at bay. "About the emails, I mean. But yeah he's barely been out here recently. I wonder why?"

"A part of me is like, he's probably just feeling down lately or something," Nora responds," but then another part of me is like, he's probably up to no good in that office. I mean if he's so distracted every afternoon that he can't answer my emails for like three hours, what is he doing?"

"I don't know," you sigh out, turning back to the report. But Nora won't let it go.

"You seemed to get along well with him, what do you think it is?" she asks you.

"I don't know. He's very guarded Nora, I don't know him any better than the rest of you. Which is probably a good thing, we are coworkers after all." You sigh at your words. Nora looks at you intently, like she's expecting something. "What? You want me to go ask him or something? No way in hell is that happening."

"I know, I know. But listen, I had an idea. I know it's kind of insane but I was thinking, you know how his office door has those blinds? He keeps them closed all the time so no one can see in. But what if they were open and we could take a peek in there? It's always after lunch that he doesn't respond. I have an old stack of things I'm supposed to take to him before I shred today, and you have your daily afternoon delivery to him. What if when I'm walking out I open the blinds, just slightly? And then you can take a peak when you go over there, just before you knock so he doesn't know you're there."

"Oh, Nora," you sigh, shaking your head slightly but also smiling. You know you shouldn't engage in this ridiculousness, that you should be more mature than this. But you can't help being intrigued. If she's the one who opens the blinds you won't feel like it's your fault if you accidentally see anything. You can' imagine you will, given how professional Yeosang is at work. Or that Nora will even be able to open them. But something within you is very excited by the idea. You try desperately not to show it.

"I doubt you'll even be able to open them," you say. "And what if he sees you doing it? He's gonna be confused and creeped-out." You know you should be discouraging her but you can't bring yourself to tell her no.

"You don't know how stealthy I am," she responds.

"You're crazy," you say, laughing and shaking your head. This time you really do go back to your report, not letting her keep the conversation going.

It only takes about thirty minutes and she's back at her desk, leaning over towards you.

"I did it!" she whisper yells, excited and clearly proud of herself. All you can do is still shake your head, not believing she actually went through with her plan. "You better tell me what you see later y/n."

"Fine, I will," you tell her, trying to pretend like you don't care. You know you shouldn't; a sneaking feeling that you're both invading his privacy sweeps through your gut. But the excitement is still bubbling away, unfazed.

Finally your lunch break approaches and you head outside, not wanting to be bothered by anyone. You've started doing this ever since you started ignoring Yeosang, ever since he left you that note. Being inside with everyone during lunch no longer appeals to you; the pain of seeing him grab his food out of the fridge only to head back to his tiny office is too much to handle. And today especially, after that conversation with Nora, you desperately need the fresh air. It's hotter than ideal but the solitude feels nice. The loud sounds of the street are a welcome distraction, your brain still reeling. You feel tears forming at the corners of your eyes, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you try to keep yourself calm. What on earth had come over you? An anger like nothing you've ever experienced has hit you; it is laced with shame and longing, and feels utterly overpowering. You miss terribly your interactions with him, even if they were short, even if they never left you feeling satisfied.

When you head back in you see the stack of reports you made this morning on your desk, the stack you must deliver to Yeosang. Your heart always sinks this time of day, when you have to knock on his door, say a quick hello, and leave. You always want to do more, to stay and poke fun at him, to stare at his face for just a little too long. But you've stopped that now.

When you finally grab them, finally adjust your outfit and take a deep breath as you ready yourself, Nora smiles mischievously at you, reminding you of what she wants you to do. You give her a look of distain but you nod anyway, making your way over. The walk feels miles long, though it only takes you some fifteen seconds to make it to his door. As you get close your steps slow down; you attempt to keep them silent on the tiled floor of the hallway. You see now, the little gaps in the blinds that Nora had somehow opened unnoticed. Had Yeosang really not closed them again? Had he really not noticed the small streams of light coming into his office that usually weren't there? You took a big deep breath, your arms clenching the stack of papers in your hands. You were just to the side of his door, not truly able to see in yet. You weren't sure what you should do; you felt stuck. A wave of nauseating anxiety ran over you, making you shaky. This isn't worth the stress, you thought. You decided to just walk in, to not play the game Nora wanted you to.

You take a step, about to reach up to knock on the glass of his door, but your eye catches on something. It's Yeosang's monitor, and the movement of his arm. The picture on his screen is unmistakably someone in a bikini, and the movement of his left elbow suggests a rhythmic up and down motion of his hand. You stop in your tracks, completely taken aback. You're reeling from how unprofessional and lewd the scene is, something you never would have expected from your quiet, proper coworker. The shock of the situation makes you unable to move as a wave of jitters runs through you, so strong you forget what you're doing, forget that Nora might be watching. Other people might start to as well, if they see you stood outside his office for an unusual amount of time. What feels like thousands of options of what to do next flood your mind in an instant, making it impossible for you to choose one. As you stand frozen you continue to watch his screen, his right hand reaching up towards his mouse. Suddenly you see the bikini in the photo, the bright red and white one you got last summer for your beach trip with your best friend. What the fuck? And then the next photo, the tab he clicks to, is unmistakably a girl in your favorite pink hoodie, and that photo, you know it from somewhere, right?

All at once you realize Yeosang is scrolling your best friend's Instagram, looking for photos of you, while jacking off. What the fuck is he doing, you think, anger shooting through you ferociously. You can't explain your next movements, your body on auto pilot, your entire being focused on one thing and one thing only. You open his office door without knocking, spinning around and closing it as fast as you can, dropping the stack of papers in your hands on the side of his desk without warning.

"What the hell are you doing?!" you ask as you loom over him, doing nothing to hide your anger.

"Fuck, y/n, what are you..." Yeosang trails off, scrambling to zip his pants and buckle his belt again, his hand flying to close the open tabs on his monitor. But you're fast enough to grab his arm and stop him, staring back at the photos of yourself on vacation. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, this is so wrong, I know, I'm so sorry," Yeosang babbles out, his words running together, his chest heaving from how turned on and scared he is. Even though what he's done is obvious grounds for being fired, for even struggling to find a new job, he can't help how hot it was, your presence suddenly upon him as he was touching himself to the thought of you. The anger in your tone only heightened the feeling, his head feeling faint as the rest of his body stood rigid.

He always worried about being caught ever since he started this, ever since you started ignoring him. He worried someone else would somehow catch him, that he might lose his job. But he just couldn't help himself. No one had ever had the affect on him that you did. He missed the ways you flirted with him, the actions and words that he'd think about as he touched himself late at night to the thought of you. Work became mind numbingly boring once you stopped talking to him, and having his own office allowed him the privacy to do what he needed to. He knew it was so wrong; he really couldn't explain it. And he couldn't explain or understand how turned on it made him now, your angry face looming over his, still unsure of what you would do next.

"What is wrong with you?? You're jacking off at work??" You speak sternly but try to keep your volume down. You feel the thread between your minds again, this time red and singeing, and realize your anger is turning him on even more.

"I don't know, I-"

"No, shut up. Don't say a fucking word to me. You leave me a note telling me to be careful?! And you're doing this?!" you continue, climbing onto his chair now, your faces getting closer and closer. The fact that he's hot and bothered by your anger, the look of terror and embarrassment on his face, it gives you a head rush like nothing you've ever experienced. Suddenly you feel yourself throbbing, needing something to take the edge off. You sit your hips down on his and immediately feel how rock hard he is, his dick straining against his pants. You slowly roll your hips back and forth, the friction making your cunt warm and tingly. Yeosang throws his head back with a groan, the layers of fabric cruelly limiting him from feeling any relief at your actions.

"Fuck, y/n-"

You grab his head, moving him to face you.

"Shut. Up," you whisper, moving your face down to kiss him, roughly sucking on his bottom lip. You keeping rocking yourself back and forth, a haze setting over your senses, your mind lost in the feeling of finally being on top of him.

"You really missed me that badly? That you had to touch yourself to pictures of me?" you taunt him, whispering in his ear. His head falls back again at your words, tears starting to form in his eyes at the frustration he feels between his legs. His hands come up to grab at your thighs and ass, completely overcome with lust and desire. You look down between you at his bulge, the sight of it straining making your mouth water. You move yourself back and begin unzipping his pants; Yeosang's head shoots up at the sound, his eyes joining yours in staring down at his crotch. His cock is hard and already leaking when you pull it out, and you spread his precum around his tip with your thumb slowly. Yeosang lets out a whimper, his whole body feeling on fire with your hand finally on his cock.

"This is what you really wanted, isn't it? Me touching you when we're at work and I'm mad at you? Are you that fucking perverted?" You can't stop teasing him, loving the way you feel so powerful, the way he is like putty in your hands. You spit into your hand and spread it down his shaft, finally starting to pump you hand slowly, watching the way his face scrunches up in pleasure and his body submits to you. "Is that all you think about when you see me, me touching you until you come? How do you even get any work done? You're just pathetically horny in here all day, touching yourself?"

Yeosang's breaths are coming out fast and ragged, his chest and face flushed and beads of sweat forming on any and all exposed skin. You lean down and swipe your tongue along his neck, tasting the saltiness of his skin, how warm and soft it is. Your hand is pumping faster now, your motions slowly picking up to what Yeosang needs, which is a total ravishing. He has long forgotten his professional morals, long forgotten how wrong he thinks this is. He'd do anything to have it last forever. "Y/n, y/n..." he mumbles out, trying to tell you to go harder, go faster. But he can't get the words out, his mind is too hazy. Regardless he's even harder now, his dick flushed and almost painfully hard.

All at once his breaths speed up, and then he's moaning involuntarily, clearly close to the edge. You move off his lap as quickly as you can, momentarily moving your hand away from him. He looks up at you as if confused, his eyebrows slightly raised in the middle.

"No way am I letting you ruin my pants, I just got them last weekend," you say, your tone patronizing. "You can ruin your own pants." You're touching him again, pumping your hand up and down, your mouth on his neck. You look and see his monitor is still lit up, still set on the picture of you in your bikini. "Look at the screen Yeosang," you whisper in his ear. "Is this what you've been coming to for the past weeks? This little, innocent picture? All because I stopped talking to you? You poor, poor thing." Yeosang whines as you tease him, pathetic little mewls coming out at every word. And then he's falling over the edge, coating his nice black work pants in his own cum. His body shudders as you keep stroking him, riding out the entirely of his orgasm. As soon as it's over you both are shocked back to reality, Yeosang attempting to get his breathing under control. Your hand is covered in his cum, your own face beaded in sweat. You look around quickly and grab a tissue from the corner of his office, wiping down your face and neck before trying to clean your hand. The nastiness of what you did hits you, your stomach tying in knots at the thought of everyone having heard you. You look back at Yeosang who has turned in his desk chair to face you, his eyes not leaving you, his face strangely calm in the face of your obvious panic.

"What?" You can't hide how unsettled you are. Yeosang just smiles and chuckles. "I don't get why you're so calm, you're going to have to walk out of here with no pants on," you say, wiping the last of his cum off your hand and tossing the tissue in his small trash can.

"I'll just change into my gym clothes early, and if anyone asks, I'll just say I spilt coffee on myself. No one will know, no one will care," he responds. Again so composed, mere moments after you had him moaning and whining. It pisses you off, how relaxed he is already.

You start towards his door, realizing now that the length of time you spent in here will probably seem suspicious. But Yeosang grabs your arm, stopping you and turning you towards him.

"Y/n, what's wrong?" he asks, worried by your demeanor.

"Yeosang, stop," you say, stepping back from him.

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I should not have been doing that. I will quit tomorrow if it'll make you feel better."

"No, Yeosang, no. Just... fuck. I'm sorry, I don't know what the fuck I just did..."

"I'm not gonna tell anyone, if that's what you're concerned about."

"No Yeosang, I-" you sigh, trying not to overreact. "God you annoy me," you huff out, shaking your head at him. He smiles, not sure how to respond.

"Y/n, listen-"

"No, no. We're not talking about this. I'm leaving, I've already been in here too long." With that final statement you step out, immediately making your way to the restroom to assess how bad you look.

Thankfully the damage is mild, your hair just a bit more frizzy due to the sweat and heat of the room. But overall you look normal, at least as far as you can tell. When you finally make your way back to your desk Nora is nearly jumping out of her chair with anticipation.

"So, what did you see?'" she asks.

"Oh, it wasn't anything weird, just a spreadsheet he was entering stuff into. And making a graph it looked like? Probably something special the boss requested."

"But you were in there so long," she responds, with a slight frown.

"Yeah, one of the reports had something confusing on it, he was asking me some questions. I think he's just busy with work Nora, that's why he's slow with the emails." Your body is buzzing, lying not something you feel accustomed to.

"Well, I guess this place is super boring after all," Nora concludes, sighing and going back to her work.

You spend the rest of the afternoon fighting back a smile, trying not to visibly shake as the adrenaline is still pumping through you. Your emotions are all over the place. Your mind races and you can't make sense of most of it but there's one thing you definitely know.

You've never felt so powerful in your life.

[autumnshighlady]

Teacher's Pet

Nesta Archeron x female!reader

first part in The Professor Series

summary: Dr. Archeron is the strictest professor you've ever had. No matter how hard you try, you can't get her to praise your work. That is, until she calls you into her office

warnings: smut, power dynamic, mean Nesta Archeron, 18+ only

word count: 3.7k

request: my legs shake just thinking about Professor Nesta x reader. Nesta being a serious, rigid and sadistic teacher. And the student being the typical exemplary student

a/n: this is part one of my professor series! each fic will be on the shorter side so I can get as many characters done as possible. Enjoy!

series playlist on Spotify here

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

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You sat in the centre seat at the front row of class, furiously scribbling down notes in your book. Your hand ached with the effort to keep up with the professor’s sharp voice, but you fought through it. The echoing of pens on paper filled the lecture hall, a dull background noise amidst the lecture on classical literature. It was the only class where every single student paid attention and behaved, for fear of suffering the wrath of the icy professor, Dr. Nesta Archeron.

The female was the most feared teacher in Velaris, known for her sharp tongue, tough grading, and zero tolerance policy for bullshit. She commanded the classroom like a general over an army, with complete and utter authority. She was also the hardest one to get praise from, much to your disappointment. You were a straight-A student, always at the top of your class. Your teachers had always loved you, often commenting on your intelligence and eagerness to learn. 

All except Dr. Archeron.

No matter how hard you tried, you were unable to get a single positive comment from her. The most you’d gotten was a nod of her head, and even that earned you hushed congratulations from your classmates around you. Therefore, you had made it your mission to get one compliment from her before you graduated. And you had three months left, and so far nothing.

It was particularly difficult to concentrate today, however. The professor had her hair done up in its usual coronet, a few loose strands framing her sharp face. She was wearing a black turtleneck that hugged her curves, forcing you to keep your eyes on her face. It was paired with a dark brown pencil skirt and sheer black tight underneath, topped off with knee high black boots. In other words, she looked stunning. Well, she looked that way every day, but for some reason today your brain decided to fixate on it even more.

God, those boots made you want to just drop to your knees in front of her–

“Miss (Y/N).” A familiar sharp voice snapped you out of your trance, making you look up. Dr. Archeron was staring down at you, an unimpressed scowl written across her features.

“Yes, ma’am?” You asked, voice quiet. Your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, and you just wanted to crawl under the desk beneath her grey gaze.

“Did you even hear my question, or were you too busy daydreaming?” She demanded, arms crossed.

“No ma’am.” You answered sheepishly, wringing your hands together. “If you could possibly repeat–”

She cut you off, voice as cold as ancient stone. “No. This is the third time I’ve caught you distracted in this class today. Since I’m clearly distracting you from daydreaming, you have no reason to be here.”

Your heart dropped in your stomach. Never before had a teacher spoken to you this harshly. It made tears well up in your eyes. “Professor–” You began to protest, but were interrupted once again.

“Leave, now. See me in my office at 5pm.” She did not spare you a single glance as she turned away to resume the lecture.

Fighting back the tears, you gathered your stuff as hastily as possible. Nearly tripping over your bag, you scurried out of the classroom, letting the door slam aggressively behind you. It was childish, and you regretted it immediately once you realised you’d have to face the professor again later.

5pm was a strange time to meet in her office, you thought to yourself. Normally most professors have left campus by then, but you didn’t think much of it. Tossing your stuff on a nearby bench, you sat down and put your head in your hands. You couldn’t hold the tears back any longer, and they began to fall down your face. You spent the entire semester trying to get Dr. Archeron to like you, and you had just blown it. All because your stupid brain got distracted by how good she looked. You were no better than a man.

“Hey, doll.” The cheerful voice of the archival studies professor, Dr. Helion, sounded a few feet away.

You quickly wiped your tears, trying hard as possible to hide the evidence of your crying before lifting your head to meet his bright gaze. “Hi, Dr. Helion.” You said, hoping he was on his way to a meeting or something and would pass by.

The professor paused, cocking his head. “What’s wrong, sugar?”

His kind voice broke your composure, and you began crying again. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. Helion was not phased, however. He took a seat next to you, placing a large hand on your shoulder. “It’s ok.” He murmured, rubbing your back. “Let it out.”

After a few minutes of sobbing underneath the professor’s touch, you finally caught your breath. You felt a little better having cried – Dr. Helion was the go-to professor for informal life advice. He was popular amongst the students not just for his stunningly good looks, but his wisdom. You knew you weren’t the first student to cry on his shoulder, and wouldn’t be the last.

“So,” He said. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“My literature class,” You mumbled, wiping your hair from your face. “I got kicked out.”

Dr. Helion frowned. “Kicked out? What’d you do, kill someone in the middle of class? You’re my best student!

You laughed. “I think I’d feel better if I had killed someone and gotten kicked out. She just… Dr. Archeron got so mad because I missed her question. I don’t think I deserved to be kicked out for that. I have to go see her in her office later today, I’m worried she’s going to fail me or something.”

Dr. Helion sighed, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “That’s fair. Dr. Archeron is tough, that’s for sure. See what she has to say when you meet with her, then give her your side of the story. She’s strict, but reasonable. Don’t let it get to you. You’re a brilliant student.”

You smiled at him, the anxiety in your stomach easing up at his comfort. “Thank you, professor.”

“Anytime.” He stood up and began to walk away, but turned to face you one last time. “Just between you and me, she likes you. That’s why she was so tough on you. She wants you to succeed.” Helion flashed you a wink before departing down the corridor, leaving you more confused than ever.

Dr. Archeron liked you? Enough to mention it to Dr. Helion? It seemed like she hated you just as much as any other student. It only made your nervousness come back as you checked the time, groaning when you realised you had six hours to kill before your meeting with Dr. Archeron. Literature was your only class for the day, and you lived all the way on the other side of the city. It wasn’t worth the long trek there and back, so you decided to find something to eat and review next week’s readings while you waited.

****************

Finally, 4:55pm came. You checked your outfit one last time in the bathroom mirror. You donned a simple pair of leggings with a low-cut red tank top that made your boobs look good. A soft grey cardigan was draped over your shoulders, your hair left down and framing your face. You normally tried to look a bit less casual, but today was not your day it seemed. Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves you took the steps down the hallway to Dr. Archeron’s office door.

4:58pm.

You paced back and forth outside her door, overthinking. You weren’t sure if you should wait two minutes in case she was busy, or if you should knock early. At this point, you didn’t want to do anything to risk her wrath again, so you continued to pace until you heard a stern, “Come in, (Y/N).”

Sighing, you pushed open the door and stepped inside Dr. Archeron’s office. It was a beautiful space – rich, wooden shelves with hundreds of old books lining them, a large green sofa with plush white pillows at either end, and a beige rug in front of the desk that adorned the centre of the room. The professor didn’t look up as you closed the door behind you. “Were you trying to make a hole in the floor? I could hear you pacing from in here.”

“Apologies, professor.” You muttered, taking a seat in the armchair across the desk.

“Speak up.” She demanded, still not sparing you a glance as she continued writing something on a piece of paper.

“I…” Your voice trailed off, unsure of what to say. You were at a loss – normally you excelled in conversation with professors, the skill coming naturally to you. But your throat was dry, and no words came out.

Finally, Dr. Archeron looked up at you. Her grey eyes met yours, utterly unflinching. “You’re nervous.” She stated rather than asked.

You paused the wringing of your hands. “No–”

“Let’s not lie to each other, shall we?” The professor said, putting down her pen and resting her elbows on the desk. “I’ll try again. You’re nervous.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You make me nervous.” You blurted out before you could stop yourself. You felt your face getting red again. To your surprise, the corner of Dr. Archeron’s lip twitched.

“Because I’m a strict, heartless professor?” She said casually. “I know my reputation. I’m proud of it. It gets students to obey me. I’ve heard many great things about you, miss (Y/N). You’re a star student. Perhaps I make you nervous because I don’t sing praises in your ear for everything you do?”

You flinched at her harshness. It felt like an insult, like she was mocking you for being praised so much. Defeated, you admitted a quiet “Yes.”

You looked down at your hands as the sound of a chair scraping on the floor echoed throughout the room. High heels clacked on the wood as the professor walked around to the front of her desk. She was standing less than two feet away from you. “Look at me.” She said sternly. You obliged, lifting your chin up to meet her gaze. She stared down at you with a level of softness you hadn’t seen before. Her brows weren’t furrowed in disappointment, but relaxed in their natural arched position.

“Listen to me closely,” She said. “You do not need praise from me. You know why? Because you’re a good student and you know it. You don’t need it validated by me. Have confidence in your own intelligence and capabilities. A female as smart as you shouldn’t be reduced to tears just from me sending her out of class for zoning out.”

You sucked in a breath at her words. They were harsh, yes, but kind in their own way. You couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered at her compliment, which was redundant to her point but you let it slide. “Thanks.” You said quietly, fighting to keep the smile off your face.

“Which brings me back to why you’re here in the first place.” Dr. Archeron continued, crossing her arms. “You zoned out three times today. You’ve been doing that lately and I want to know why. Is my content boring or do I just make you that nervous?”

“Your content isn’t boring, ma’am.” You said quickly.

She smirked, which unsettled you. “So it’s the second one then?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but closed it. You had no idea what to say – either you denied it, and then had to come up with a bullshit reason why you were zoning out; or you admit the humiliating reason why your attention was drifting off to fantasyland where you were bent over Dr. Archeron’s desk and letting her have her way with you. “No–” You began.

“I thought you were going to be a good girl and be honest with me.” 

Your thoughts came to a screeching halt as her words hit you. Good girl, the phrase that was your unfortunate weak point. It seemed your professor knew it too, the way her smirk deepened at your reaction. “That’s what I thought.” She said, pride seeping into her voice.

You wanted to drop dead right then and there. There was no way you were getting out of this – she KNEW about your crush on her. You could tell she had figured it out a while ago, and was cornering you now to confirm it. You began spewing apologies faster than your brain could comprehend. “I’m so sorry, ma’am, I didn’t mean–”

“I wouldn’t want your…. nervousness, let’s call it,” Dr. Archeron hummed, emphasising the word ‘nervousness’ in a mocking way. “To get in the way of your learning. Looks like it’s my responsibility to get you to relax around me.”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

She placed a finger to your lips, shushing you. “Stand up.” She ordered. You obliged, pushing the chair back and letting the cardigan fall off your arms as you stood up. The room suddenly felt much smaller as Dr. Archeron took a step towards you. Her face was inches from yours, and you could smell her sweet scent around you.

“Dr. Archeron…” You whispered, not sure what you were asking.

“Nesta.” She corrected, voice gentle. “In here, you can call me Nesta.”

“Nesta.” You said, experimenting with the sound of her name on your tongue. You had never even dreamed of calling her by her first name. In all your wildest fantasies, you had only addressed her as ‘ma’am’ or ‘professor’. Never this intimate.

She took another step closer, her lips now centimetres from yours. “If you do not want this, you may leave at any time and we will never speak of it again.” She said calmly. “I will not hold you to anything.”

“Please,” Was all your dry mouth was able to muster. Thankfully, Nesta understood what you needed, and pressed her lips to yours. 

They were the softest lips you had ever kissed, tasting like spiced red wine against your tongue as you melted into her mouth. Nesta grabbed your hands and placed them on her waist, allowing you to touch her. “Relax.” She muttered against your lips. You squeezed her hip gently, and she groaned into your mouth, pleased. 

Nesta reached up and cupped your jaw in her slender hands, deepening the kiss further. Gods, you had never been kissed like this before. The world spun around you as you eagerly opened your mouth up to her, letting her tongue explore wherever it wished. You whined when her lips eventually left yours, gasping for breath.

“Don’t pout.” She scolded, reaching down and grabbing the bottom of your tank top. “Lift up your arms.”

You did so, allowing her to pull the tank top over your head and discard it somewhere on the floor. You had opted to go braless today, leaving your breasts exposed to the warm air of the office. Wetness pooled between your legs as Nesta shamelessly drank in your topless figure, her grey eyes darkening.

“You’re going to be a good girl for me and let me take care of you.” She said huskily. “I want you to relax around me. It’s your reward for being my top student.”

You nodded, reaching to grab her waist again. You needed her closer. Nesta obliged, but walked you back until your legs hit the large green sofa, forcing you to sit down. Nesta followed suit, landing beside you and wasting no time in bringing her hands up to your breasts to squeeze as her lips attached themselves to your neck. You whimpered, arching up into her touch. Her hands were strong, kneading at the flesh of your breasts as she sucked marks on your neck that sent a tingle up your spine and heat between your legs.

“That’s it, pet.” She purred. “Let me hear those pretty noises.”

You bit your lip, worried about any lingering students or staff hearing the noises you so desperately wanted to make. Nesta sensed your hesitation and brought her mouth down to your nipple, giving it a harsh suck and causing you to cry out. “That’s more like it.” She said, satisfied. You gripped her shoulders as she worked her mouth on your breast, biting and sucking and kissing before she moved to the other one.

Without thinking, you bucked your hips in the air, yearning for some relief. Nesta released your right breast with a lewd popping noise. “Desperate already, are we?” She teased, trailing a finger down your stomach to the top of your leggings. “Normally I’d have you on your knees begging for it, since you didn’t listen to me several times today. But just this once, I’ll let it slide. You’ll learn my rules soon enough.”

You lifted your hips, granting her access to pull your leggings and panties off in one go. You were instantly naked on her couch, the slick between your legs visible. Nesta unabashedly stared down at your newly exposed pussy, licking her lips like a cat. “My, my, you’re soaked, pet. Is that all for me?” She cooed, running a finger lightly over your slit.

“Yes,” You gasped at her touch. “All for you.”

Seemingly pleased with your eager answer, Nesta kissed your lips once again, muffling your moans as she gathered your wetness on her fingers and rubbed your clit. Your body sang in response, her hand applying just enough pressure to take the edge off but not enough to push you towards the edge. You had a death grip on the couch cushion, toes curling as your fantasies unfolded before you. 

After rubbing your clit for a few minutes, Nesta harshly pushed you into the couch so you were laying down, head propped up on one and while your lower body was just at the edge. She kissed her way down your chest, then your stomach, then her lips hovered above your core. “Beg.” She demanded sternly.

“What?” You breathed heavily. “But you said–”

“I changed my mind. You make such pretty sounds. I want you to beg me to eat you out.”

“Please…” You whimpered, closing your eyes.

“Do better. And look at me while you beg.”

You opened your eyes and groaned at the sight of Nesta’s face less than an inch away from where you wanted it most. “Please, Nesta.” You begged. “Please touch me. Please eat my pussy, I’m begging. I need you, please.”

“Much better.” Nesta said before lowering her head and licking up your slit. You let out a deep moan, back arching into her touch. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around her body, pulling her closer and causing her to chuckle against you, which sent vibrations down your legs. Her golden brown hair was glowing in the light from all the different candles in the room, making her look like a goddess kneeling before you, a mere mortal in comparison. Nesta’s tongue was as skilled as it was sharp, flicking against your clit in a way that made your legs involuntarily twitch.

The room was filled with lewd slurping sounds and moans. In the back of your mind, you wondered if anyone could hear you. Surely, most staff were gone by now, having headed home for the weekend. Any remaining students would be in the other building studying for the last few hours. But you couldn’t deny that the possibility of someone hearing the noise from Nesta’s office excited you. You were a good student, never in a million years did you think that you’d be naked in a teacher’s office with your legs spread for them.

Two of Nesta’s fingers slipped inside of you, curling upwards and instantly finding that spot that made you see stars. Your hand reached down and grabbed her hair, fingers messing tangling in her perfect braid. You whimpered – her tongue and fingers felt so good, you weren’t sure how long you could hold off your climax. You wanted to stay in this moment forever, with Nesta between your legs and your head thrown back in pleasure on her couch. But that familiar tension began to build up in your stomach, and your breaths began shortening.

“That’s it, pet.” Nesta muttered against your clit, her hot breath on the bundle of nerves intensifying the pleasure. “Be a good girl for me and cum. Let yourself go.”

Minutes later, you felt your legs twitch as the coil in your abdomen finally snapped, sending your release barrelling through your body. You moaned out Nesta’s name, tightening your grip on her hair and bucking your hips into her face. The world spun around you, falling away as you got lost in your pleasure. Your clit began oversensitive beneath her mouth as she came down from your high, sending waves of fuzziness through your legs.

You panted heavily as Nesta finally pulled her lips and fingers from your cunt, opening your eyes and watching in awe as she stuck her fingers in her mouth and sucked the remaining juices off. “You taste as sweet as you look.” She purred, planting a kiss on your lips before striding over to where your clothes had been discarded. All you could do was lay there, gathering your bearings and wondering if it was all just a dream.

With a tenderness you didn’t know she possessed, Nesta helped you get dressed. She gently pulled the leggings on, and eased your arm through the armholes of the tank top while you pulled it down. Once she finished draping your cardigan over your shoulders, she stopped back, her face smug. “I expect now you’ll be less nervous around me, won’t you?” She said coolly. 

You couldn’t help but smile sheepishly. “Yes, I think so.”

Nesta folded her arms. “Good, but don’t think this gives you a free pass for anything. I still expect the best from you, whether I praise you for it or not. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She smiled wickedly, returning to her seat at her desk and picking up a pencil, continuing her work. Save for the now messy coronet hair, she looked exactly as she had when you first walked in. “Good. Now get out of my office.”

[grxmreaperx]

Professor Hoffman Pt. 2

Pairing: Mark Hoffman x reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: 18+!! Smut! Dirty talk, cockwarming, p in v penetration, age gap (everyone is over 18!), mentions of spanking and oral (f! receiving)

Summary: You’ve grown accustomed to your weekly tutoring sessions with your favorite professor, but even if you are doing better in the class, Professor Hoffman believes you need a lesson in focusing.

read part 1 here!

here is the highly requested part 2 to my professor hoffman au! hope you guys like this one, i included a cockwarming kink since i wasn't super happy with how the last fic with that kink turned out. let me know what you guys think <3

“Now, someone tell me what you thought of the interrogation I just showed you.”

The deep voice of your professor drug you out of your daydreams. Your gaze fell onto the man at the front of the room, his hands pushed deep in his pockets as he waited for an answer. It was an understatement to say you had been distracted in that course, even more than you had been before your “meeting.” Your mind wandered even more than it did before, except now it wandered to memories of your so-called tutoring sessions.

He did help you with course work during your session, but not in a conventional way. He would reward you for completed assignments and an understanding of the concepts, typically involving his head buried between your thighs. And for any wrong answers you gave, you received punishments, walking out after your session with handprints on your ass.

“How about you, Miss,” he said, staring straight at you. “What did you think of the interrogation?”

He smirked. He knew where your mind had been, he knew what you thought about during his class and it sure as hell wasn’t the video you were supposed to be watching. He watched you intently, tilting his head slightly, waiting to hear your response.

“Well, the suspect’s body language was very interesting. He was closed off and held his arms around himself for comfort, hinting that he may be guilty, or at least very uncomfortable with the subject.”

He nodded. “Very good observation.”

You decided to press your luck, wanting to get back at him for picking on you. “I have another observation too, if you’d like to hear it, Professor.”

He furrowed his brows slightly. “Go on.”

“Well, in the interrogation, you didn’t exactly try and build rapport with the suspect, which probably would have been ideal in this case. You were quite aggressive, Professor.”

You hardly registered the turning heads, other students’ eyes widening as they listened. Professor Hoffman was known in the criminal justice department as a hardass, not taking any disrespect from faculty and students alike. You knew your classmates were shocked; no one else would dare talk to him that way.

You watched his jaw clench slightly, looking down as he tried to compose himself. Trying to stop himself from dragging you back to his office right then.

He looked back up at you. “I don’t believe I asked for your thoughts on my behavior in the interrogation.”

“No, but you did ask what I thought of the interrogation. And I thought you were a little too aggressive.”

He sucked in a breath. “I suppose I did. How about you see me after class and we can talk a little more in depth about your thoughts, hm?”

You tried to keep the smile off of your face. “Yes, Professor.”

You heard whispers around the lecture hall, heard the disbelief that someone had spoken to Professor Hardass that way.

Your friend turned to you, a look of shock glued to their face. “What the fuck was that?”

You shrugged. “What? I was simply sharing what I thought.”

They let out a small laugh. “You’re fuckin’ crazy. You must have a death wish.”

“Something like that.”

--

Later that day, you made your way through the now familiar hallways leading to Hoffman’s office. You tried to keep your pace steady, trying not to appear too excited in case anyone saw you. You knew what you were in for, you couldn’t get the look on his face when you had talked back to him out of your head.

You knocked softly as you stood in the open doorway, attempting to look as innocent as possible. “Hi, Professor. You wanted to see me?”

He set down his pen, leaning back in his chair as his eyes took you in. “Sit.”

You closed the door behind you, setting yourself down in the chair facing him. You took him in: the neat hair that was slightly tousled after a long day, his shirt sleeves rolled up above his elbows, his tie loosened around his neck.

“Do you think you’re clever, sweetheart?” he asked in a low voice.

“I do, actually.”

He chuckled. “Of course you do. How clever do you think you’ll feel when you can’t walk out of this office, hmm?”

You squeezed your legs together, trying to stop the blush from rising in your cheeks.

“What’s the matter, baby?” he asked mockingly. “Not so clever now?”

You tried to think of something to say, some sarcastic remark to wipe that look off of his face.

“Did you bring your book with you like I told you to?” he asked.

You nodded.

“Good girl. Get it out and get over here.”

You pulled the criminology textbook out of your bag before making your way around his desk. You set yourself down on his lap, laying the book out on his desk. His hand snaked around your waist, fingers drawing small circles around your hipbone.

“I think we should try something different today, what do you think sweetheart?”

You looked at him. “Something different?”

“Well, it’s obvious what we’ve been doing hasn’t been working. You’re still not paying attention in my class. And now you’re talking back to me. It’s time we try something different to teach you.”

You shifted slightly on his lap. “What are you thinking?”

He smirked, gently grabbing your hand and moving it to palm him through his dress pants. “I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do baby,” he started as you felt him harden against your hand. “You need more focus, don’t you? So, you’re gonna open that book and explain to me every concept in the reading for tomorrow. And you’re gonna keep my cock warm while you do it. We’ll see how well you focus then.”

Your eyes widened at his words, feeling a spark between your legs.

“How does that sound, sweetheart? You gonna strip for me, or you just gonna sit there and stare at me all day?”

You quickly stood, discarding your clothing as he undid his belt. You made your way back over to him, facing his desk as he guided your hips. Your mouth fell open as you sunk down onto his cock, not stopping until you were fully sitting on his lap. He wrapped an arm around your waist, placing teasing kisses along the back of your neck.

“Go on, baby. You better get started.”

You opened the textbook, staring blankly at the words on the page. You tried to focus on the words, tried to take in any information you could as your eyes scanned the page. You gripped the arm of the chair, forcing yourself to focus on anything other than the feeling of him inside you. He held you still, not allowing you to move.

“You gonna tell me about what you’re reading, or are we going to have to stay like this all day?”

You tried to clear your head, tried to focus on the words in front of you instead of the ache between your legs.

“The strain theory,” you began, before he shifted underneath you. You froze, letting out a small sound at the movement. “That’s not fair,” you cried.

“What’s not fair, baby doll?” he asked, placing a kiss on your shoulder. “Go on.”

“The strain theory says that…” you sucked in a breath as he ran a hand over your thigh. “That people turn to a life of crime if they can’t reach their goals.”

He thrusted up into you slightly. “Good girl. That’s right. Keep going, baby.”

Your nails dug into the soft leather of the chair, trying to keep the little bit of composure you had left. You tried to roll your hips slightly, to get some sort of relief, before a hand wrapped around your throat.

“I wouldn’t do that, sweetheart. Do what you’re told, or I won’t let you cum.”

You let out a small whine, eyes fixing back on the book in front of you, quickly trying to absorb enough information to please him.

He ran a hand over your stomach, pressing gently just below your belly button.

You let out a soft gasp, even more aware of the feeling of him inside you. “You’re such a bastard,” you breathed.

He chuckled. “You still think you’re clever, baby?”

You tried to ignore him, quickly reading the next page. “Self-control theory says that crime is caused by…” you let out a breath as he ran his lips down your neck. “By people looking for instant gratification.”

“Good girl,” he praised. “Do you think you’ve learned how to focus?”

You could tell his restraint was failing: his breath was growing shallower, his hips shifting in his seat. You decided to test your luck once again, rolling your hips against his. You felt his forehead press against your back, a small groan leaving his lips, and this time he didn’t stop you.

“Yes, sir,” you moaned, and he let himself go. He quickly stood, pressing your front down onto his desk, hand wrapping in your hair.

“So good for me, aren’t you sweetheart?” he said, beginning to thrust into you. You could’ve sobbed from the feeling, the feeling you had been yearning for. You wrapped your fingers around the edge of his desk, trying to keep yourself steady. You let out a loud moan as he set a quick pace, your punishment tormenting him as much as it did you.

His hands roamed down your back, settling on your hips. He gripped them tightly, pulling you back to meet each of his thrusts. The sound of your whimpers filled the room, legs beginning to shake. You were so sensitive from your punishment you could already feel yourself getting closer to the edge.

He grabbed your leg, hooking a hand under your thigh, and lifting it onto the desk. You cried out as he pressed deeper into you, filling you to the brim.

“You gonna be a good girl and cum for me, baby?” he groaned.

You nodded frantically against the wood, a chorus of “yes’s” falling from your lips. He speed up his pace, hands gripping you so hard you knew you’d have bruises. You felt you body shake as you reached your high, holding the edge of the desk tightly to keep yourself grounded.

You felt his forehead press against your back as his pace faltered, one hand coming to rest next to your head as he reached his own climax, spilling inside of you.

He slowly pulled away, helping you up off of the desk and setting you on the edge. He grabbed your clothes off of the floor, handing them to you before zipping his pants back up.

You noticed the textbook on his desk as you began to dress. You had hardly even registered it underneath you, but some of the pages were torn, the paper covered in sweat.

You gave your professor a look, gesturing to your ruined textbook. “You better buy me a new one of those, that shit is expensive.”

He chuckled, fixing his shirt. “Yes, yes, I’ll buy you a new one. I see where your priorities are.”

You smiled at him. “Listen, that’s a lot of money you just ruined right there. And if you want me to be able to focus in your class, I’m gonna need a new one of those.”

He shook his head, smiling. He grabbed your chin, pulling you closer as his lips met yours. The kiss was surprisingly soft, his hand moving to rest on your cheek.

“Have I told you lately that you’re my favorite student?” he asked, pulling away just enough to rest his forehead on yours.

You laughed. “You’re my favorite professor.”

tag list: @bee-who-isnt-french, @enigmatic-blues, @kujofam, @aliengutzstuff, @mysunfishpeedinmyroom, @slut4hoffman, @schrodingersjigsaw, @hoffmansnightmare, @karmaswitch, @mrs-hotforhoffman, @returntodustsblog, @capan-deveraux2, @switchbabeeexo, @librababe99, @honimello

[justmochi]

action

pairing :: mira x wonwoo ft mingyu, sua, and yoohyeon

word count :: 2.1k

synopsis :: wonwoo shows mira his rehearsal video for his stunt scene

time :: april, 2024

warnings :: spice, angst if you squint. mira is shrimping

taglist :: @cafemilk-tea @cixrosie @moonlight-additions @cosmicwintr @astraw-astro @succulentmom @kimhyejin3108 @enhacolor @alixnsuperstxr @hybesunstone @itzynabi @choihaneul @strmiu @angie-x3 @Kaitieskidmore1 @evaalopezzzz

Mira just got back from the bathroom, plopping down on the couch next to her boyfriend and tucking her legs underneath herself. “You can press play.” They both shared a nod of approval before resuming their romance movie.

The movie was calming down from its climax, prompting her to rest her head on Wonwoo’s shoulder. He takes in a sharp breath, causing Mira to retreat from him.

“Are you okay?” She frowned, keeping her distance.

He presses his fingers into his shoulder, shutting his eyes at the sensation. “Yeah, I’ve just been exerting some muscles I don’t usually use at the stunt academy.”

“Stunt academy?” Her eyes widen, her mind going directly to the worst-case scenario.

“Yeah, I learned some martial art moves for—”

“Martial arts?” She sits up straight, placing her hand on his knee.

“Hey, it’s fine.” He cups her cheek with his palm. “I have to film an action scene for our music video, so I learned from the professionals.”

Mira slouches back against the couch, letting out a sigh of relief. “You scared me.”

“I’m okay–” Both of their heads snap towards the screen when the female lead lets out a moan. Mira feels her cheeks heat up, pursing her lips.

“Uh, we filmed some test footage. Did you wanna see?” He tries to direct their attention elsewhere to downplay the manner of the movie scene.

“Oh, sure!” She perks up, watching as he takes his phone out of his pocket. She pays attention to the movie before he holds out his phone.

She smiles upon seeing him barefaced with his glasses on, and a beanie. “Awe.”

He chuckles nervously before pressing play on the video. She giggles at him taking a deep breath before they begin the sequence.

“You’re so–OH! Oh my gosh–“ She covers her mouth when people in the video start lunging for Wonwoo. She’s speechless while watching the rest of the video, her boyfriend throwing and dodging punches, even kicking the stunt people. When most of the guys are on the ground, her eyes widen as he stands in the video, panting. The footage ends with him fixing his beanie.

She looks at him, her mouth agape behind her palm. He gets flustered when looking into her eyes, throwing his head back on the sofa while snickering.

“Wow, that’s…” Mira shakes her head in disbelief. “Awesome. Can I see it again?”

“Of course.” He hands her his phone and she swipes to the beginning to watch it all over again. The first time, she focuses on the actors coming his way. Second, she watches Wonwoo’s face the entire time. Third, she watches his body movements. He is shy everytime she restarts the video, trying his hardest to focus on the movie and not her reactions.

She watches a fourth time, but scrolls through it frame by frame. Watching it in slow motion was not her brightest idea, because she takes every detail into account. She can’t deny that he looks incredibly sexy. He probably doesn’t even recognize what he’s doing, focusing on the routine he was taught at the academy. She sees his shirt lift up and she can’t help but rewind and scroll some more, wetting her lips at the sight of his abs. She’s at the end of the video, but she doesn’t remember anything from it because her mind is imagining him shirtless.

“Mira?” He knocks her out of her daydreaming.

Her cheeks heat up again, as well as her ears. She feels as if he completely read her mind and she was about to be caught. “Oh, yes?”

“Are you done? I mean you can watch as many times as you want but I’m getting embarrassed.” He smirks.

“Uhh, yes I am.” She hands his phone back to him, trying to get one more glimpse at him in the video. She watches him press the share button and sends it to her through texts. She really wishes he hadn’t done that. “It’s really good. I’m proud of you.”

He smiles, leaning over to give her a kiss on the cheek. She blushes and suddenly feels hot all over. He doesn’t pull away but instead stares at her lips. She watches his eyes drift, so she takes the opportunity to tilt her head and kiss his lips. He follows the way her lips move against him, cupping her cheek with his hand. Mira feels her phone ring in her pocket from the text he sent. She quickly pulls away, clearing her throat while brushing strands of her hair behind her ear.

She stumbles on her words, distancing herself from him. “I- do you want me to massage your shoulder?”

He snorts, leaning forward to give her more access. “Go crazy.”

She stretches her fingers before readjusting and pressing them into his shoulder. He shudders the second she applies pressure.

“Sorry,” She pouts, trying to be gentle with him.

“Don’t worry, you can’t hurt me.” He rubs her knee, turning his attention to the movie.

The hairs on her head stand up from that touch alone. She does her best to push away her lustful thoughts, watching the movie with him.

They get absorbed in the intimate scenes when Mira reaches one of his more sore muscles, causing him to suppress a moan. Regardless of his efforts, she still heard it loud and clear.

“Did I hurt you?” She takes her hands back, holding them to her chest.

“No, that felt good.”

“Oh, um…” She tries to reposition her hands back to where they were just a moment ago. She feels around his shoulder blades before he lets out another moan.

“Right there.” He sighs

She flattens her lips, willing her fingers to not start shaking now. “Like this?”

“Just like that.” He speaks low enough for her to hear. Her imagination starts to run wild as she continues to massage his shoulder. She envisions what it would be like to hear the same sounds coming from him but under different circumstances. Would he say the exact same words? She wants to hit herself for looking back on all the times he had been shirtless around her. Her pulse quickens at the thought of the steamy scene minutes ago and what it would be like for her and Wonwoo.

“Why’d you stop?” She snaps out of it again to see him looking at her. She doesn’t remember ever stopping.

“I…” Her fingers hover over his skin, looking down into his eyes. “Sorry, I don’t know–“ She trails off, entranced by his wet lips. They both feel the pull towards each other, leaning in until the front door flies open.

“I got ice cream!” Mingyu lifts the bags, pushing the door shut with his leg.

Mira throws her on the opposite side of the sofa like they were caught doing something they weren’t supposed to be doing. She hopes Mingyu didn’t notice anything except for the flush across her skin.

“Ice cream!” She stands to her feet, rushing over to grab a bag from Mingyu. “Do you want some ice cream, Wonwoo?”

“Uhh sure.” He stands, readjusting his sweats before stretching his back and limbs.

The three settle on the sofa, Wonwoo in between both of them. Mingyu has his own bowl of ice cream, while the couple share one. She’s hoping the ice cream can somehow melt away her uneasiness from their situation, but she finds herself more agitated sitting so close to her boyfriend.

“You didn’t eat much, do you want the rest?” He leans his temple against her shoulder, whispering into her ear.

“It’s okay, you can have it.” She whispers back, attempting a reassuring nod. She turns her attention to the movie, watching him out of the corner of her eye.

She can’t remember what’s all happened in their movie or even the title of it as she watches him finish the ice cream. Her first mistake was trusting herself enough to turn her head a little to see the cream on the corner of his lips. He wipes it away with his thumb before licking his finger clean. She feels her mouth go dry and a ringing in her ears.

She may have imagined him his eyes shifting to her, but it’s enough for her to shoot up and ask the two boys if they’re done with their ice cream.

“Can I take it?” She grabs both of the bowls from them, running away to the kitchen to collect herself and clean the dishes.

Her mind is running laps as she frantically rinses the dishes, drying them and placing them back in the cupboards. She dries her hands, taking her phone out of her pocket with shaky hands. She texts Sua to come and pick her up ASAP.

Before she can go back to watch the movie with them, she gives herself a pep talk while fixing her hair and clothing.

Wonwoo eyes her as she comes back in, splaying his arm out on the sofa to wrap around her. She forces a smile, bringing her knees to her chest.

He leans in, rubbing his hand back and forth on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I just don’t feel too good so Sua is coming early.”

“We can go to my room and you can lay on the bed if you–“

Going to Wonwoo’s room and laying down on his bed.

“No. Really, I’m fine. It’s not a big deal.”

He scans her face, debating on whether he should feel her forehead for a fever. He nods, instead pressing a peck to her temple. It was very clear to him how tense and unnatural she was acting. He nods, not wanting to overwhelm her anymore.

After a while, her phone vibrates in her pocket, knowing that it’s Sua telling her she’s outside. The movie is almost over so she sticks it out, hoping her member won’t be too agitated with her for making her wait.

The second the screen fades to black, she stands up and smooths her pants down. “Thank you for having me over, I really enjoyed tonight.” She bows her head to Mingyu before heading to the front door.

“No problem…” Mingyu raises his eyebrow, watching as Wonwoo walks after her.

She struggles to get her shoes on, pushing her bag to her back.

“Mira,” He presses his palm against her back, causing her to flinch. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine, don’t worry.” She turns her head, pleading with her eyes for him to take a hint. She makes sure she has everything before pulling the door open.

“Let me walk you–“

“No! It’s fine, I’ll be okay.” She nods, giving him an unexpecting peck on the lips. “Love you. I’ll text you.”

She leaves him no room to argue, shutting the door and rushing to the elevators.

Wonwoo stands at the front door for a second before walking back to the living room. He’s thinking in his head when Mingyu brings him back to reality.

“Is it just me or was she acting really weird?” He points to the door, flattening his lips.

“You noticed?”

Mira quickly gets in the car and fastens her seatbelt. Sua looks her up and down, raising an eyebrow. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, everything is fine.”

“Did something happen–“

“No, nothing happened. I’m just tired so can we please go home?” She presses her arm against the door, holding her head up. When the vehicle doesn’t start driving, she looks over to see the woman staring at her. “Now.”

“Yes ma’am. Sheesh.” She sits back, putting the car in reverse.

“I am despicable.” Mira mumbles under her breath.

April 29, 2024

She can’t help but bite her nails, hesitating on clicking the official music video. She was both anxious and excited to see the final product. She was also fearsome of what she would have to face once she finally watched Wonwoo’s fight scene. She thought it was shameful enough to be thirsting over him, but she didn’t want to come to terms with the fact that she craved to be intimate with him.

Mira pressed on the Maestro music video, listening to the song with her headphones on. She waited impatiently for his part, nearly squealing the second it did. Her jaw hung open, having to replay the scene over and over again.

She zoned out, feeling a warmth fill her center. He looked too sexy and she felt ashamed to be imagining such inappropriate things about him.

“Mira!” Yoohyeon reached back for Mira’s leg, shaking it from her seat.

The girl quickly took her headphones off her head, once again acting like she was caught watching something she was not supposed to. “Hmm?”

“Are you drooling?”

She was not expecting a twenty second video to bother her this much.

[romancingdaffodils]

Love Kills.

part 1

bassist!rockstar!remus lupin x roadie!reader

In which one of your closest friends happens to be Sirius Black, who is also the drummer in the infamous punk band: The Marauders. You’ve met Remus Lupin twice before the tour begins and you found yourself quite enthralled with him. The more time you spend, the greater the need is.

warnings : mention of drinking, and that’s about it. gender neutral reader with a small understanding of drums and stuff :333

title stolen from Love Kills - Joe Strummer

hiii i know you missed me

i’d like to give a special thanks to @alegsy for all his help on this one. and if you like Alex turner go check out @joepublicspeakings :33. Seriously Al thank you much for helping me out with all the roadie tech stuff and ideas and punk music too it really means a lot and i love you sooooo much. thank u smsm

ps pls ignore that matt plays electric and not bass it’s not my fault i love him so much

Sirius Black was by far the most interesting man you've ever met. He was also the reason you were stood with your hands clasped tightly around the handles of two stuffed bags.

"C'mooon, you know me, it'll be fun! You like the music, know the tech, got the skills nailed. You're the perfect roadie, join us." Sirius begged, following you around the bar. You frowned at him. Unfortunately for the raven haired man, you liked your job, which meant it took a lot more convincing to get you onside.

"Sleeping in a glorified caravan for god knows how many days doesn't exactly seem like my idea of fun! Plus, Sirius, I only really know James. Met the other lanky one, what, twice? Don't know the last guys name! It's not fair." you argued, crossing your arms and glaring at him. You had included a small white lie in the fact Remus Lupin was not known as the lanky one in your mind - you were familiar with the version of him that haunted your daydreams. He pouted at you. Yes, the fully grown man pouted at you.

"It pays well-ish! It'll get you in with the industry and it's months with your favourite person, ever. Me! On top of that, it's not a glorified caravan, we invested this year so shut your trap." he whined, giving his best puppy dog eyes.

"Right, fine, maybe. I'll, consider it. And, never ever say 'shut your trap' again. You're a daft twat, you know that?" you caved. He grinned.

"So that's a yes! And I'll do you the favour of assuming you're just trying to keep me humble." he grinned once again. Mentally, you smashed your head through a glass pane. What had you gotten yourself into?

“Nice shirt.” a voice spoke from beside you, giving you a small smile. You smiled back. The lanky one - Remus Lupin, you reminded yourself. Not that you needed much reminding; the honey eyed man stuck firmly in your brain.

“Thanks, didn’t know you liked Bowie. Thought all the punk stuff would be more for you.” you joked, peering up at him. He scoffed, as though your statement was the most insane thing he’d heard.

“Can still like the ‘punk stuff’ and Bowie. Plus, he’s a genius. Done every style and more, like.” he replied, some sort of northern accent coming in thick and fast. He was different to Sirius in many ways and you took comfort in it. Even though, at times, Remus was a tad bit mean. But, not really to you. The three times (including now) you’d met him he’d been quite lovely. Sirius had chewed your ear off about that.

“It took me years to get a grin out of him! And you do it straight away? It’s so not fair!” he whined, leaning against the counter of the pub’s bar.

“You’ll recover, posho, promise.” you said, giggling to yourself at his heartbreak.

“Yeah, suppose you’re right. Nice to see you again, by the way. It’s been a while. ‘m excited for the tour and stuff.” you said, deciding that changing the subject might suit you better.

“Me too, can’t believe Sirius actually got you on as a roadie. Did he physically fight you for it? Last time we asked you were dead set against it.” he gestured for you to walk beside him as he spoke. He was holding his bags in one hand and his bass case in the other. He made short work of putting everything bar his bag of necessities into the storage bin. Then, quickly took your own off of you, shoving them into the storage of the bus. He didn’t seem to mind doing the heavy lifting for you.

“He harassed me, a lot. At work. A lot. It’s fine though, I think I’ll enjoy it if I’m honest. If all else fails at least I’ll get contacts and friends out of it, yeah?” Remus snickered. He smiled down at you as he closed up the storage compartment.

“I’ve been telling myself that for the past, what? Decade? Trust me, he entices you in, you’re trapped now. Failed plenty of times and don’t think I’ve gained much - apart from wanting to bash all three of their heads in. On multiple occasions.” you giggle; he smiles.

“Ah well, just promise me you won’t let me kill anyone then. I’ll do the same for you.” you said, holding out your pinky for him to close the promise. It was childlike and somewhat immature, sure, but it locked the deal closed. Wrapping his pinky around yours, Remus silently agreed to your proposition.

“It’s nice to meet you— Jesus Christ! You’re lanky. Sorry. That was mean. Remus, right?! I’m the one Sirius told you about.” you shouted over the blaring music. Submission by the Sex Pistols was causing the entire room to shake and was rocking you to your core.

“Yeah. I know you. Been trying to keep up with Pads, by chance?” Remus chuckled down at you, assuming you weren’t always this dishevelled.

“Always. Thought I could out drink him, you know, for a posh boy, the lad can drink.” he smiled.

“Perks of going to a boarding school. Mix with all sorts of people, it was good for him.” you smiled.

The night seemed to fly by and you couldn’t keep yourself away from Remus. Flocking to him like a moth to a flame, your cheeks were beginning to hurt from smiling so much. Thankfully, the incomprehensible amount of vodka you had consumed helped dull the pain.

“Can’t believe we haven’t met before.” you purred, peering up at him.

“Neither. Pads is cruel, keeps all his best friends to himself. Didn’t know there was anyone else on the planet who actively enjoyed The Clash and Dostoyevsky.” he responded, bringing a green tinted glass bottle to his lips.

“Let me try it.” you demanded, holding out your hand.

“You don’t like beer.” he said, giving you a small grin.

“Wanna try, it might be different.”

“Oh, yeah? All the beers you’ve had in your life and this one just might be different.” despite his teasing, he offered you the bottle. It did in fact not taste any different. It still tasted like piss.

“Nah, still rank.”

“Shame, that, really.”

You grinned. He smirked.

The tour bus was now filled. The four key members of the band: James, Sirius, Remus and Pete, who you’d finally remembered the name of and the rest of the members of your new team. Oh! And the support band, who you kept forgetting about, The Valkyries. Lovely girls, all of them. It tickled you somewhat that James and Lily were in rival bands. And, that some how they’d persuaded the rivals to support them. The roadies with you had mostly known the Marauders since school, which inevitably led to you feeling like an outcast. It really struck home as they were all discussing stories from their youth. The road was a relentless treadmill of travel and you were provided no solace. Until a small voice called your name.

“You busy?” Remus asked, poking his head into your bunk.

“Trying to be.” you joked, smiling over at him. He looked ridiculously oversized compared to the glorified caravan.

“Don’t think you aren’t welcome. They’re lovely. Sit up a bit, will you? My knees are killing I need to sit down.” you sat up, as he instructed. He sat on the bunk opposite yours, you faced him directly. It was a little scary- his ability to practically read your mind.

“I’m sure they are, just having second thoughts, as always. Dunno, you lot all went to school together. So, just a bit of an outcast, yanno?” you whispered, emphasising this was for Remus’s ears only. He nodded his head, and then began to shake it.

“Y’not an outcast. Promise. They’ll all love you once they get to know you. Like Pads does, poor fucker can’t leave you alone.” you laughed; he smiled. It wasn’t a sympathetic smile; it was genuine.

“I love Sirius too. Best friend you could ask for, really. It’s just such a shame he’s such a slag.” you joked. Remus laughed.

“Really is. How’ve you been since the incident?”

Remus’s hand was acting as a makeshift bobble as you threw up into the bar toilet. His other hand was rubbing small circles into your back.

“I hate him! I hate how much he can drink and- I hate this stupid bar.” you whined, in between sobs. Throwing up always made you cry.

“Shhh, yeah, I know. Come on, let it all out. Y’don’t need to cry, sweetheart, you’re fine. Just have to let it all out.” he cooed, still rubbing your back. God knows how you’d ended up exclusively talking to Remus the whole night and somehow still trying to out drink Sirius. You’d been fucked when the taller of the two showed up and now you were completely gone.

“This is so embarrassing. Sorry, I feel awful.” you threw up again after that.

“Got nothing to feel sorry about. Listen, been there done that with Sirius. Learnt my lesson the hard way too, plus I’m taller than you. Takes a lot more to get me drunk, yeah? He’s just insane. Don’t worry about it.” he comforted, not at all bothered by your sickness. Giving him a dopey smile, you were eternally grateful - even in your drunken state - that it was Remus you had befriended that night.

“Thank you, tell you what, I’ll do you a deal.” Remus nodded “Pinky promise if you ever get plastered I’ll do the same for you”. Holding out his pinky, Remus tilted his head at you. You locked pinkies with him for the first time (and most definitely not the last time).

“Good deal. Do you think we should get you home? Are you close? I’ll walk you if you are.” he offered, wrapping an arm around you to pull you up.

“Yeh, like ten minutes. Thank you, Remus, really. Bet you’re glad it’s me and not you, huh?” you joked, trying to add light to the situation. Leaning into him, you were relying solely on him to stay upright.

“Nah, know you’d do the same for me. Pinky promised it, didn’t you? And, it’s no problem. Think we’re going to be good friends.”

“Don’t bring that up around me. I’m still so embarrassed.” you complained, burying your head into your hands. Chuckling, Remus shook his head.

“Could’ve been worse, you could’ve declared your undying, unrelenting and pure love for Lily, whilst stood on top of the bar and using an empty vodka bottle as a microphone for the announcement. Poor Lils never recovered.” You lifted your head to give him the loudest laugh ever.

“They’re sooo cute. It’s upsetting.” you said, lying back down in your bunk. Remus watched your every move, subconsciously. “Oh, you said your knees were hurting. You get pains? Arthritis? My mum gets that in her knees, she just keeps moving, but I think it’s making it worse.” you rambled, turning your head to face him.

“Oh, yeah, just chronic pains, really. Just try and rest as often as possible.” he explained, stretching out his legs across the two bunks. His legs fell atop your own, now creating a bridge between the gap in the bunks. You smiled over at him.

“Must suck, huh? Well, let me know if I can help. Tour isn’t really resting.” you offered, giving him a big smile.

“Yeah, thank you, speaking of tour we aren’t far off Glasgow now.” he stated, peering out the window and then down at his watch.

“I’m ecstatic.” you stated sarcastically as your stomach twisted with nerves. Telling you not to worry, the sandy haired man gave you a smile that only made your stomach twist further.

The venue was a shit hole. A complete and utter shit hole. The ceiling had a badly patched up leak, which had almost destroyed Pete’s copy of the setlist. The reason Sirius had been so desperate to get you on his staff was because you specialised in drums - his instrument, of course. You’d managed to get everything set up relatively quickly. Carefully, you began to tighten the cymbals, listening for the correct pitch and length of the ring. Humming as you worked, you stopped every so often to admire the work of the rest of the team. Frank, who specialised in strings, was particularly impressive. He had finished up rather quickly and moved on to help his girlfriend, Alice, with getting everything ready for vocals. It seemed everyone here, but you had the perfect relationship. James and Lily were a lifetimes worth supply food for the green eyed monster. Frank and Alice were just as cute, but less well known as they weren’t in the limelight.

“All good?” he shouted over at you. You gave him a thumbs up and smiled over at Alice, who was fighting with some duct tape and a wire. Everything was all good for you, at the moment.

Finally, you finished up the final checks and placed a backup pair of sticks beside Sirius’s chair. It was then onto sound checks, all went well. You actually really quite liked the Marauders music. With inspiration from bands like The Clash and The Jam it’s hard to make a bad sound. He was weird in that he’d always carry around his sticks before the show, believing it would bring him good luck. In fact, in the first show you found out all the boys weird pre-show rituals. Pete laid down on the couch and threw chocolate raisins into his mouth. James clung onto Lily ever so slightly more than usual and insisted on drinking a shot of olive oil. As the lead singer he swore upon it for lubricating the vocal cords. You nearly gagged when you watched him do it. Whereas, Remus sat outside, cigarette in one hand and a cadburys chocolate bar in the other.

Trying to escape the rest of the boys, you ended up going outside and bumping into Remus during this. Quenching your thirst for normality, you couldn’t help your next actions. “Oh, sorry, hope I’m not interrupting.” you stated, giving him a small smile as you gravitated towards him.

“Nah, take it you saw James’s shot?” he said, before taking a long drag from the cigarette. Wincing, you looked at him with pure disgust in your eyes. “No I get it, can’t be around him when he does it either. Makes my jitters worse.”

“Christ, you don’t look nervous at all. Good poker face. Your sound check was really incredible though. James performs like Joe Strummer, it’s funny. You’re good, really fit the part of Paul, huh?” there was an unspoken message behind fitting the part of Paul. The bassist of the Clash and the so called good looking one of the group (as stated by their drummer, Topper). You thought the same about Remus.

“You calling us Clash tributes? Also, he humps less than Joe.” You laughed. Full force laughter left your lungs as you keeled over in genuine disbelief. Snickering, Remus looked down at you, a little scared you’d collapse on the floor and knock yourself out. You went to speak, but the words were drowned out in laughter. “That tickled you, dinnit?” he mumbled, dropping his cigarette and crushing it below his foot. The shout of ‘Five minutes till you’re on!’ snapped you out of your laughter. Grinning up at Remus, you tilted your head.

“Break a leg!”

“It’s not the theatre.”

“Oh, good luck.”

“Thank you.” he replied, smirking down at you. He pushed the final piece of his chocolate bar into your hand before walking inside for the ‘team talk’. Time seemed to move at the speed of light whenever the lanky man was around. You found yourself completely lost in everything about him. Seriously, you couldn’t believe how long Sirius had deprived you of this perfect man.

Frank had told you whilst you were setting up that the band always had a talk before going on stage. The talk often consisted of: “James don’t cry and don’t fuck up” from Sirius and Remus; “Dodge bottles, whatever you do don’t get hit please you’ll look stupid.” as the general message to the whole band and “Jump around”, which was mostly directed to Peter and Remus. Frank had also warned you about the dangers that came from within the crowd. Police. Famously, punk music was viewed as being quite aggressive; it ended up being the roadies job to make sure fighting and dancing could be differentiated. Sirius hadn’t told you about that part whilst advertising the job. However, now wasn’t the time to take offence.

Erupting like a volcano, the crowd filled the rotting venue with noise. You watched the boys sprint on stage. All leather and tight fitting trousers.

James really did look like Joe Strummer when he performed and Remus was right about his comparison too. Sirius looked truly ecstatic whenever he performed and the energy brought about by the show pulled Peter from his shell. And Remus, oh, Remus. He was entirely perfect.

Catching yourself, you blinked and shook your head. You’d met this man three times, including the current interactions and here you were, fawning over him. Sure, it’d get you in a little bit of trouble, but what harm is a crush. Right? Not much harm compared to glass bottles and punk rockers. Oh, and a leak in the ceiling with wires messily taped to the floor.

Bang.

[thissortofsorcery]

16 for the soft prompts? Harringrove, my one and only❤️💖❤️

Thank you ☀️

I, um. I did it again. So you get almost 2k. Yay?

---

16. laughing while kissing

It was the kid's idea.

They were spread around the living room at Steve's house after a long afternoon of swimming, with full bellies and painted with different shades of sunburn. Dustin had put a movie on for them to watch, but nobody was really paying attention to it. Billy himself was dozing on the couch, head on Steve's chest, letting the feeling of his fingers in Billy's hair and the sound of the tv and of the kids' whispered bickering lull him to sleep.

"NO WAY you can keep a straight face for longer than two minutes, Dustin!" Max yelled into the silence, jerking Billy awake. His groan joined the voices of the other kids' complaints, all of them yanked from their own silent daydreaming.

"Yes, I can!" Dustin yelled back. Lucas, in the middle of them on the floor, rolled his eyes. "Last week I lasted three minutes while my mom stared me down before I broke."

"What'd you burn this time?" Steve asked, and Billy felt the vibrations of his chest.

"I singed a curtain slightly, but that's irrelevant–"

"It's irrelevant because there's no way you can keep a straight face for two minutes if I stare you down," Max challenged, a smug expression on her face.

"Unbelievable," Dustin said, shaking his head. "Lucas, back me up."

"I'm staying out of this," Lucas said, sounding like the argument had already taken years off his life.

"You started this conversation!"

"No, I said the movie was so boring my face didn't move for fifteen minutes, you said that was impossible," Lucas argued. "Then Max said it was impossible for you, and you went off. This is between you."

"Fine, Steve! Back me up!"

"You can't ask Steve, he's my brother in law!" Max yelled.

"Well, he's my brother!" Dustin yelled back.

"They're not gonna let me sleep, are they?" Billy mumbled into Steve's chest, hearing it rumble when Steve chuckled.

"No, babe, they're not," He said.

"Fucking kids," Billy groaned, pushing himself up from the couch with a sullen look on his face. 

He got a Coke from the fridge as the yelling went on in the living room. The patio door muffled it much better, and he managed to enjoy a nice, rousing cigarette before he went back in to deal with the madness that was the dweebs when they were being stubborn about something.

Especially when it was Max leading the pack.

When Billy went inside, Dustin and Max were sitting across from each other on the living room rug, faces blank, two one dollar notes piled between them. Lucas, Mike, Will and El were watching them intently, spread around the couch and the loveseat. Lucas kept looking between them and his watch.

Billy headed for Steve, still in the same spot on the end of the couch.

"What's going on, now?"

"They bet on who can last longer," Steve said, rolling his eyes, but Billy could tell he thought the kids were hilarious.

Billy sipped his Coke and settled down on the arm of the couch to watch Max stare Dustin down, leaning her elbows on her knees, face carefully clear of any emotion. He could only see the back of Dustin's head, but he'd bet he was at least twitching.

"One minute, fifty seconds," Lucas called, on the edge of his seat. "Fifty one, fifty two…"

As he counted, the kids were leaning in closer to Dustin and Max, watching their faces avidly. El seemed fascinated by the game, with her chin on her hands, eyes bouncing between the two quickly, like she didn't want to miss a single twitch.

"Two minutes!" Lucas called, and Will and Mike started cheering. Under the noise, Lucas said, "Dustin can hold out that long."

Billy snickered when he saw one of Max's eyebrows twitch and her chin lift a little, fighting a reaction. He'd never admit it, but this was more entertaining than he thought.

Max leaned forward on her elbows, eyes fixed on Dustin's. Billy knew she would take being wrong personally. That meant she was going to make sure she wouldn't lose again.

She started twitching her ears.

Her hair was pulled back in a low braid, so they were visible, but the other kids probably wouldn't notice. Dustin, though, was staring straight at her. He wouldn't be able to miss it.

He didn't last long after that. He burst out into little giggles, and a second later Max let herself join him.

"Two minutes and thirty-four seconds," Lucas said. "Max wins!"

The living room erupted into chaos, the kids talking over each other and trying to decide who would challenge who next. 

Mike lost to Will who lost to Dustin, then Dustin lost to Lucas. Lucas beat Mike, but lost to Will, because Will apparently looked like a sad puppy. Max beat everyone but Lucas and El. And El, somehow, beat everyone but Mike.

Billy watched everything from the sidelines, relaxing his body into Steve, with one arm around his shoulders and Steve's arm around his waist. He thought it would take no effort at all to just tip his body to the side and slip on Steve's lap.

"But Billy's the one who's really good at this," Billy heard Max say. "He can go really long without like, twitching or anything."

"No way," Dustin says. "He would start rolling his eyes and calling us dweebs like two minutes in."

"Oh no, there's no way you're roping me into this," Billy said, putting his foot down. "No way in hell."

So now he's sitting on the floor, legs crossed, with the dweebs in a circle around him, staring at his face like a tiny Millennium Falcon is about to come flying out of his nose or something.

"You're all so fucking creepy," He grumbles.

"Ready…" Lucas says, eyes on his watch. "Go!"

He lets his face relax, jaw set, staring straight ahead. He counts his breaths in his head, focuses on his lungs expanding, and does not look at the kids' wide eyes looking at him. He fixes his eyes on a blank spot on the wall behind them until his vision blurs, and he lets himself get lost in his own head.

The silence grows. The kids watch him quietly at first, but they soon start fidgeting.

"How long has it been?" Dustin asks.

"Five minutes, eight seconds," Lucas says.

"Told you," Max says, and she sounds smug.

The living room is filled with tiny sounds from there, fingers tapping, people moving, someone leaving and coming back with a can that they crack open. Billy doesn't flinch.

"Oh my god, he's not moving!" Dustin says, sounding frustrated. "How long did you say he could last?"

"I've seen him go forty minutes," Max says. She doesn't say why Billy went so long without moving a single facial muscle.

"Forty minutes?!" Dustin screeches. "What are we supposed to do until then?"

"We can put on a movie," Will suggests. 

"We have to watch him," El says.

Billy counts his breaths. Feels his diaphragm move. He has to focus not to react. He didn't anticipate hearing the kids complain about being bored of something they nagged him into doing to be so fucking funny.

The noises of the living room get louder as they all get more restless, and every now and again someone will sigh like they're grounded with no TV, and Billy has to count his breaths again so he doesn't start laughing. It's worth it, though.

He hears Steve get up and go to the kitchen, picks up the sounds of him cleaning up the mess the kids left in there.

Every few minutes Lucas calls out the time, and the kids are less awed and more frustrated. Except for El, who's fascinated, still watching him like a hawk. Max is just smug.

"Fifteen minutes," Lucas says, like he's at the end of a marathon. "Let's call this."

"Okay, Billy wins," Dustin says, like he'd rather have his fingernails pulled out than admit it. "You can stop now."

But Billy doesn't. He just keeps staring ahead like he didn't hear them.

"Uh… Billy?" Dustin calls, crawling closer to his face. "You in there, bud?"

"Oh my god, he's not gonna move," Max says. "He's doing it to piss us off."

Dustin shoves his hand in front of Billy's face, waving it back and forth. Billy doesn't blink. 

"Hello?"

"This is so creepy," Lucas says, throwing himself down on the loveseat. "It's eighteen minutes, by the way."

"We have to make him stop," In the corner of his vision, Max throws her head back.

"Steve!" Dustin screams, "Steve, we need your assistance!"

Billy can hear Steve yelling back from the kitchen, "Oh, no way! You wound him up, you deal with it."

"El, can't you do something?" Max asks.

"No."

"We're going to die," Dustin says.

"Really?" Footsteps come from the kitchen, stopping by the couch behind Billy. Steve continues, "Demodogs are fine, but Billy's blank stare is where you call it quits?"

"I can't live like this, Steve!" Dustin's voice rises in pitch and volume.

"It's been twenty minutes," Lucas groans.

"Oh my god, you're so dramatic," Steve must be rolling his eyes into the sun behind Billy's back. He hears some shuffling, and then Steve is kneeling in front of him, directly in his line of sight. Steve has a fond smile on his face, and it's almost enough to make Billy's mouth twitch. "Hi. Sorry about this, I can't listen to them whine anymore."

Steve crawls slowly to him, until his knees are brushing Billy's legs. It's enough to make his breath hitch, and he knows Steve heard it, because his smile widens, pleased. Holding his face blank is taking all of Billy's concentration right now.

Steve's face is close, and it looms even closer, his bambi eyes half-lidded and sultry, the very image Billy's been dreaming about since he moved to Hawkins. He hears El gasp, and Max's murmured oh my god, and Billy balls his shaking hands into fists with the effort to not move. 

Steve's eyelashes flutter, so close to his. He can feel Steve's breath, warm on his face. His lips–

They touch Billy's, and he's gone, mouth spreading into a smile, and his hands come up to frame Steve's face so he can kiss him back once, twice, little smacks of kisses that Steve meets with a smile of his own. 

"You fucking cheater," Billy's kisses dissolve into laughter, and Billy tries to stifle it by catching Steve's mouth again, sucking on his lip, but it comes bubbling up his throat, dumb little giggles that infect Steve until he's laughing just as much.

They don't stop kissing, though, meeting halfway in between fits of laughter. Steve's already climbed onto Billy's lap, wrapped his arms around him, and they're willfully ignoring the kids' yelling.

"I had to put a stop to it before they started throwing things at you," Steve presses another kiss on Billy's smiling lips, pulling another giggle out of him.

"Thank you for saving me," Billy says against Steve's mouth, eyes closed, soaking up the warmth of Steve's body plastered to his front.

"I got your back," Steve says.

"Yeah," Billy breathes, takes in the smell of Steve. Billy's face is flushed pink from laughter. "I know."

------

Thank you for asking baby!!! I had fun with this one!

[thebellearchives]

Oo! Could I request fluffy prompt #26 with Barbatos? “I want to move in with you.”

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀

~ barbatos ; obey me

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : there’s something about Barbatos’ peaceful aura that just makes you want to have him all to yourself forever, so you decide to make a complicated proposition

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!reader, fluff, stablished relationship

‧₊˚ a / n : i think this might’ve kindled feelings for Barbatos that I didn’t know I had 😀 anyways, enjoy ~

prompt list

The smell of floral tea filled your senses, your body relaxed, you took a nice, deep breath. Your lover’s calm forest eyes were focused on filling your cup and his to the brim.

There wasn’t anything nicer than spending time with Barbatos. Being used to the mess and hustle of The House of Lamentation, whenever you found yourself in his presence it felt like a permanent rest. Your half lidded eyes rested on him. There was something so delicate and perfect about his movements, his demeanor. And you had been thinking about it for a while. You couldn’t help it, the words fought it’s way out of your mouth.

“I want to move in with you”

Barbatos suddenly stopped, the third cup had only been half filled. With widened eyes he looked up to you.

“Pardon?”

You smiled to him, enjoying to be in yet another one of those moments where you were able to break his composure. A wave of adoration washed through your body just thinking about sharing a place with him where you could constantly discover his different reactions and sides that no one had seen before and keeping them to yourself only.

“I want us to move together somewhere nice” you continued your idea “I want to fall asleep with your comforting arms around me and wake up to the smell of tea in the morning. I want to head downstairs in a perfect, clean and tidy house and head straight back to you, to this tranquil love of yours.”

Barbatos listened to you attentively, a timid smile taking place in his lips.

“That does sound wonderful.”

“Doesn’t it?” you reached for his hand, his fingers carefully slid in in between yours, holding the kettle with his other hand “don’t you want to come with me? Spending time together in the backyard, tasting different pastries, holding hands…”

Barbatos leaned in over the table, his hand left yours to brush a strand of hair out of your face and caressed your cheek.

“Savouring their sweet taste off your lips, perhaps?”

A blush spread through your face, prompting a smile too.

“Yes, if you want to.”

“I’d love to” his expression then changed, soft loving smile replaced by a melancholic sadness “but you know I can’t leave my place here.”

Raising your eyebrows in worry, you leaned back in your chair.

“We can talk to Diavolo” Barbatos went back to filling up the third cup, teal hair strands hiding his face from your view “I know he’d be delighted to know you’re chasing your happiness. You can still come to the castle, work here, and in the night come back home to me.”

The demon finally placed the kettle in the table, that sweet smile from before finally coming back.

“Ah, back home to you” he repeated, faint longing tinting his words “that very much sounds like a dream to me.”

“Promise me you’ll think about it” when his eyes met yours again, you could’ve almost sworn his emerald irises trembled in yearn.

“Very well” he sighed, keeping that pretty smile of his on his lips “I’ll keep it mind.”

Happiness sparked a big smile on your face, you nodded in satisfaction to his answer.

“Very well.” you copied his tone, he smirked in amusement to your playful response.

“MC!” Diavolo’s perky voice called for your attention, he walked up to the table.

“Diavolo”

“Young Master” Barbatos pulled up a chair for the redhead.

“Thank you Barbatos” his usual bright smile greeted you “I’m so happy you accepted our afternoon tea invitation.”

“Anytime” you brought up your cup of tea close to your lips, picking up the rich floral scent that once again sent your mind off into daydreams of cozy mornings with your lover.

[holylulusworld]

Take my breath away - Kinktober 29

Written for @charmed-asylum​‘s “Promptthebreakschallenge“

𝕊𝕥𝕖𝕡 𝟙: DEALER CHOOSE: A: 61. “There is no way this much stupid can fit inside one person.” // 17. “| swear it was an accident. //”18. “YOU DID WHAT?!” // 24. you’re not as funny as you think you are // 35. stop laughing at me // 42. how have you survived this long by yourself? // 49. “At least I didn’t break any laws.”

Summary: Your boss acts differently today.

Summary: CEO!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Kink: daydreams

Warnings: angst, language, Bucky being an awful boss (mentioned), enemies to lovers (kinda), kissing

Words: 1,2 k

Kinktober 2022

Why I kidnapped my boss? That’s a good question. Have a seat. Grab a snack. Get comfortable.

“Ms. Y/L/N, get over here,” right when you want to press enter to save the first lines of your story, your boss yells at you again. “Hurry up. I don’t have all day.”

“Yes, Sir,” you grit your teeth. If only you didn’t need the money. “Only a few more months. You can do this.” You’d like to tell yourself, one day you will leave this lousy job behind and start a new life.

“I said, hurry up,” this time your boss barks in your direction. “I swear, you are the worst assistant I ever had.”

“And you are the worst boss I ever had.”

“What?” he furrows his brows.

“What?” biting your tongue you try to hide that you mean every word. “I said, what can I do for you, boss.”

“Hmm…,” your boss watches you get up from your desk to walk toward his office. “At least you get me the right coffee. That’s a pro.”

“Uh-you told me more than once how you like your coffee. It’s not rocket science to get the right coffee, Sir,” damn, sometimes you just can’t stop babbling. 

“Sit,” James Buchanan Barnes, the devil himself says. “I got a problem with my smartphone. I mean, it’s not really a problem. Rather a matter of relocation.”

“Relocation?” you cock your head. “I don’t think I understand what you want to tell me, Mr. Barnes.”

“I dropped my phone into the toilet bowl,” he huffs as you stare at him, mouth agape.

“YOU DID WHAT?!” you squeak. How can he drop his phone into a toilet bowl? “How? Why? What now?”

“Uh-I need you to get it out,” now you chuckle. “Stop laughing at me, Ms. Y/L/N! That’s inappropriate. It’s your job to assist me. So, go to the restrooms and get my phone.”

“I didn’t laugh, Sir,” a snort fights its way to the surface.

You struggle to keep a straight face while staring at your boss. He’s still an ass, but right at this moment, he looks like a little boy begging you to get his favorite toy back.

“I just asked myself how you manage to drop your phone into the toilet bowl. Did you want to stream something?”

You grin. 

“No.”

He glares at you.

“Maybe you wanted to play a game and your phone just slipped out of your hands. Or you were busy with something more…” you snort. It’s hard to fight the smirk wanting to creep onto your face.

“You’re not as funny as you think you are,” he slams his fist onto his desk, making you flinch. “Go and get my phone.”

“Eek, no! Maybe you peed onto the phone,” pursing your lips you look at your boss. “I’m your assistant but I won’t put my hand into a toilet bowl for you, Sir. That’s a hard no.”

“A hard no?” now he smirks. “Interesting. Didn’t take you for that kind of girl.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

You size your boss up.

“You know, the kind of girl knowing about hard and soft limits. A naughty girl,” he grins. His blue eyes seem to be glued to your face as you shift in your seat.

“Maybe call a plumber or ask the janitor to help you.”

Work dragged on for a few more hours before you were finally allowed to leave your workplace. Luckily, your boss didn’t bother you for the rest of the day.

“Ms. Y/L/N, can you come to my office,” right when you wanted to leave the office, your boss calls for you once again.

“Great. Just great,” you huff.

“Ms. Y/L/N!” he says a little louder. “NOW!”

“Coming, boss,” you put on a fake smile before following him toward the office. “What can I do for you?”

“I swear it was an accident,” he points at the papers you handed him a few hours ago, now soaked, with coffee. “Can you print the papers for me again before you go?”

“How have you survived this long by yourself?” you look at the ruined papers again. “I can print them again for you. Just give me a minute. It’s not a big deal.”

“You’re too kind,” there is something in his eyes before it’s gone. You shake your head, believing you imagined things. “Thank you, doll.”

“I-“ frowning you look at your boss. He never called you anything but Ms. Y/L/N. Now it’s doll? “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be waiting for you then.”

You walk out of the room, wondering what happened to your grumpy and loud boss today. He seemed to be lost in thoughts.

“There is no way this much stupid can fit inside one person. How can he mess so many things up in just one day?” you grumble as you make your way back toward your desk. “I should just leave him to his mess. He doesn’t even know that I have his back every day.”

“Doll, can you get me a coffee too? I need to work a little longer tonight,” Mr. Barnes calls from his office. “Please.”

“Please?” huffing you open the document you need to print again. “I didn’t think he knows the word please.” You press print and get up to get the printed pages.

“Come on, do your job,” you impatiently wait for the printer to do its job. “What’s wrong with you?” You kick the printer. “Fuck you! Do your job.”

“Something wrong? Y/N?”

Shaking your head, you check on the printer and ignore your boss. It won’t print the needed pages, so you kick it again, and again until it makes an odd noise.

“I think you broke the printer, Y/N,” he chuckles as you still fight with the printer. “Doll, leave the poor machine alone. We can print the pages tomorrow. It’s fine.”

“At least I didn’t break any laws,” laughing you slap the printer one last time. “That’s a pro, right?” You look at your boss, expecting him to throw insults at you or fire you.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

You blink a few times as your boss starts to run his fingers through his short strands. “What do you mean, Sir?”

“This,” he gestures between you and him. “I can’t ignore my feelings any longer,” you yelp as he almost pounces on you.

You stare at your boss as he cups your face. He bumps the tip of his nose against yours, smiling as you look at him like a deer in headlights.

“Sir?”

“Bucky,” he whispers. “Call me Bucky.”

“I-“

He leans in to press his lips to yours, moaning as you whimper against him.

“Open your mouth,” he purrs against your lips, tongue sliding over your lips, tongue, and the inside of your open mouth. 

You close your eyes, whining and moaning as you give in to the feeling of Bucky’s lips against yours. Your pulse quickens, and you feel warm. 

“Y/N,” breathing heavily you feel like you can cum only from the way Bucky kisses you. “Y/N!” your eyes flutter open, and you lift your head from your desk. “What are you doing here so late?”

Your boss stares at you with angry steel-blue eyes.

“I-I think…uh-I fell asleep…” you watch him storm off. “What did I just do? How can I dream of that bastard?”

“Miss Y/N to my office,” Bucky barks. “I think we should talk about a few things…”

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[jamneuromain]

Wishful Thinking Chpt. 5

Andy Barber x You (Reader), no use of Y/N

Alternate Universe - College AU

Summary: A new semester. A new task. A new boyfriend, your previous professor, Andy Barber. Everything seems to be going on the right track. So why didn't it?

Warning: Fluff, inappropriate teacher-student relationship, power imbalance, age difference, explicit language, Possessive!Andy Barber, mention of CHEATING, discussion about BDSM relationships, mention of sex

A/N: This fic has some disturbing themes, and discusses potentially upsetting topics. Please read through the warning before engaging with the fic. As I have said, the fic has mentioned a number of (potentially) triggering and heavy topics, you don't have to engage further if you feel uncomfortable about one or more topics.

Wishful Thinking M. List Dancing in the Daydream M. List

You arrived at his place nonetheless.

He welcomed you with warm embraces and sweet words muttered into your hair.

No funny business as he promised. You watched an old black-and-white movie together, and he took you to bed, holding you as you both had pajamas on.

Such a sweet sweet morning when you are woken up by Andy’s firm chest and shallow breath behind your back. His arm hooks around your waist, his hand relies more on your thigh than your stomach. Your neck is tickled by his beard slightly, his thick beard which makes him look more like a barbarian overnight.

You blink a few times to see straight, onto the white ceiling.

Andy hums in his sleep, apparently disturbed by your turning in his arms. He nudges your neck with his chin, barely opening his eyes, whispering, “morning my beautiful-”

“Morning Andy.” You carefully interlace your fingers with his. It’s not that you are shy of letting his hand fall on your stomach or your thigh, it just feels … natural.

His breath stiffens, before slowly taking an exhale.

Fuck.

Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

He was so close to letting slip just now.

He was so close to saying “morning my beautiful wife”.

Fucking stupid habit.

You turn around to face him, witnessing the moment his hand runs down his face and squinting his eyes to pull his consciousness together.

“Beautiful huh?” Small sparks of happiness glinting from your eyes, teasing him, “I’m not your sweet girl anymore huh?”

His fingers dip from the hem of your large T-shirt, possessively sprawl over your belly, giving it a warning squeeze, “Depends.” He growls, his low timbre almost impregnating your ear, “Are you going to be my beautiful sweet girl? Or are you going to be a naughty little brat?”

You reply with silence, which is abnormal.

Andy looks down at you. You chew on your lower lips, mulling over something in your head.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I-” You start, but don’t even know where to begin, “I read over the brat part in the book. I read the whole book, actually. The whole thing about the Dom/Sub relationship. But I don’t know…in the book it says every relationship is different.”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I was thinking,” you panic a little and choose to look anywhere but his eyes, “I don’t understand, what does being a sub mean?”

Andy gives out a thoughtful hum, “Well, for the most part you'll do as I say when we are having sex. Though it's more of a formality, or not if you don't want it to be. For example, when I tell you to keep your hands above your head, you can choose to obey the order, or disobey it. But we both know that during heated moments, we aren't exactly in control of ourselves. So if you accidentally - and I say this because I'll know if you do it on purpose - broke the rule, I may have to hold onto your wrists with my hand, or cuff you to our bed, depending on how you behave.

“And what about... besides sex? I know that some SM relationships require kneeling at the door to wait for the dominant one to return?” You wince, not liking having the idea of a bruised knee in mind, “I don't have to do that, do I?”

Maybe he’d give you a pillow for that? Instead of kneeling directly on the floor?

A pillow doesn’t sound so bad.

“No,” says Andy, “absolutely not. I'm not a sadist. I don't enjoy anyone kneeling on the floor. Apart from if you are sucking me off. But that's another discussion.” To which you bury your face in your palms. You did not expect things to take a sudden turn and end up on oral sex.

“No,” continues Andy, “I don't want you to kneel or be uncomfortable in any way in real life. On the other hand, if you are considering bringing about this dynamic to our lives. It would be the same as sex. If I tell you something, you do it. I make decisions for you, you take it. Like that. But we can discuss about what we are both in favor of, something like if I take you out and you want me to order for you, or I'd tell you to eat the carrots or broccoli, you eat it. And you would also face punishment if you aren't behaving.”

Speaking of food, you want some breakfast, but breakfast can wait for now.

“What about other things? Besides food? Anything you say I have to obey?” You ask.

He doesn’t really mean everything he says, you have to oblige, right?

“We would discuss what you are comfortable with me dominating first.” Andy emphasizes what he was talking about just now, “we’d always discuss beforehand to make sure you are okay with this. Under that context, yes, anything we mutually agree on.”

“Like what?”

Andy eyes you. You can sense that he is going to say something that you don’t like.

“Well, drinking more water...”

You do NOT like that.

“…get a healthy routine and don't get drunk partying…”

“Ouch.” Getting drunk is fun, no one can deny that.

“…go to the gym twice a week…”

“Okay now hang on-” You definitely won’t agree to this. Going to the gym regularly? Monstrosity!

“…finish your undergrad, be hard working, and try your best to pursue your dreams…”

“Wait wait wait wait wait.” You gesture for him to stop for a second, “Gym? No. Drinking alcohol? That can be arranged. But water??” You scrunch your nose, “surely I drink enough iced americano and bobba.”

Andy scoffs, offering a sympathetic smile, “I mean water water, not the sugared crap I see you have almost once a week slurping on my class.”

“That’s bobba tea and it’s made out of milk and tea, very healthy I’m telling you-”

“No.” Andy’s decision is final, so is his unrelenting attitude, “I mean water. One liter per day. And I'm going to keep count because I know how much you hate drinking plain tasteless water.”

You grumble like the Grinch in Christmas, making a face: “Are you seriously trying to talk me out of it? Because it’s working. It’s working so well. Also, you sound like my dad more than my dom.”

“There's a category called daddy dom for a reason. But yes, I am going to tell you three times a day to drink water even if you decide to let D/S dynamics out of our daily lives.”

“That’s not fair!” You exclaim, but soon you lower your voice and start pouting, “... I felt like joining a cult. Only that this cult keeps telling me to drink water.”

“Tell me where this cult is, I want to sign up too.”

“Very funny. Says the man who drinks two Liter every day.” You bump your head on his shoulder, earning a fake cry of pain from him.

“God, don’t need to murder me even if I tried to drag you into a cult.” Andy playfully covers his collar bone, feigning injury.

“A cult that tried to make me drink water.”

“A cult that promises you six glasses of water every day.” Andy corrects you.

“Same thing.” You are not keen on the subject, so you decide to return to what you were talking about only a minute ago, “apart from the whole water thing, you’re saying that I don’t have to obey your every command if I don’t feel like it?”

“If you are feeling bratty or you don’t like my command physically or mentally.” Andy becomes a bit more serious when he’s discussing your relationship with you, loosening the playfulness in his tone as he speaks, “though you have to tell me which one was it, so I could adjust my behaviors, that you won’t get hurt. But do remember being a brat has its consequences.”

“Like spanking?”

“Like spanking, yes. But not limited to spanking.” His eyes darken on mentioning what your consequences for being a brat are, “Punishments, in general. I might get very creative if you wouldn’t learn the lesson from light spanking.”

“But we would still have the safe word during punishment? I can still tell you to stop?”

“Yes.” He kisses your forehead, “Your safety is always the priority here.”

“Can I tell you to do anything? Role-reverse?” Dominating sounds fun. Really fun.

Andy chuckles. In his wildest dreams, he wouldn’t even imagine you would volunteer for being a Dom, “that’s called a switch. If you opt to try both Dom and Sub side of the relationship. But sure, we could work something out.”

“Okay.” You grin, “I’m exercising my Dom rights now and ask you to cuddle me.”

“Wow, bossy.” Says Andy jokingly, even though he did what you told him to, looping his arm around your waist again, holding you close.

“Yeah well, I learned from the best…” You murmur, yawning into his chest, slipping back to your sleep.

You are disturbed in sleep as he has to get up to go to work, giving lectures to juniors and postgraduates.

“No no no no don’t get up.” He whispers by your ear, his beard scuffing your cheek as he places a few kisses on your temple and your forehead, “Sweet dreams, my baby.”

You grip the duvet a bit tighter as you fall asleep again. Unlike previous nights, it has been an extremely pleasant sleep, with few dreams and the feeling of you are fully charged, all energetic and ready to take on the day, waking up at nearly 10.

Spending the night at your boyfriend’s place has its perks.

One of which, to name of, you are dressed in his shirt. In your defense, that isn’t stealing if he doesn’t know any better and lets you have access to his wardrobe.

However, there are downsides to this, too. You are trying to cook yourself breakfast and spend a little while searching for salt and pepper, and later, plates and a chopping board. But the downsides are less annoying as you wander around his place and pick up the sticky note he left on the headboard, telling you that he wants you to stay at his place and you’ll have dinner together when he gets back from the start of term reception. He also says that if you don’t want to, that is also fine.

You find your way to his study. As a professor teaching English Language and Literature, Andy is no short of books and novels in his place.

One particular white-covered book caught your eye.

It doesn’t look like any regular books, and you are too curious to leave it there.

After you take it from the shelf, you realize that this is no book, but rather Andy’s dissertation from his Master’s, discussing modern espionage novels and their background setting using a theory you are vaguely aware of, mentioned somewhere during lectures.

It was a detailed discussion and analysis, though you are not very keen on espionage novels, it gives you some ideas about what you will write for your dissertation.

Maybe you can pick some other novels, discussing their background setting, but using a different theory…

But this isn’t exactly Andy’s expertise, which he told you during a dinner that he researched creative and modern writing for his doctorate. Meanwhile, Professor Johanna Klein focuses on English literature and teaches classes on this topic.

On a more private note, you do want Andy to be your tutor with your young pumping heart that is filled with your sweet boyfriend right now.

Touch call.

You put the dissertation back on his shelves, paddling around the room.

You’ve been at his place alone before, which shouldn’t be a big deal for you right now, being his formal girlfriend, even though you need to keep your relationship a secret.

…right, a secret.

You let out a small frustrating sigh.

You know it’s unethical and wrong and all that, but Andy really is a nice guy. The small debate in your head quickly forgotten when you stride to the bathroom, throat a bit dry when you remember a handful of times when he railed you in the showers or had you ride him in the bathtub. Oftentimes when he has already brought you three orgasms and you started cleaning in the hot water. When he would guarantee you a fourth or fifth orgasm, having you breathless and boneless.

You would swear to God this man has an insatiable appetite.

Shivers run down your spine. Your breath quickens.

Fuck the man does things to you. Horrible things. Even when he’s not around.

They were not all dirty showers.

Sometimes, after getting up – from a purely innocent cuddle session in the night, you’d also take a shower in his bathroom,

Due to the frequency that you stay and shower, he even bought the same brand of hair dryer, the shampoo, and the body wash you use and stored it in the cabinet below the sink. Not to mention your toothbrush and your hairbrush standing side by side with his.

You aren’t living with him. You are far from that stage of starting a life together. But close enough. Ever since you’ve settled your relationship after the first night you had sex, you have been staying almost three nights every week.

You are not thinking about living together, not just yet.

The truth is, you are thinking about it, and maybe your wedding, and maybe your honeymoon too. But the tiny voice in your head tells you that it’s too early in the relationship to be thinking about it. You still need to finish Uni, either find a job later or continue your studies in literature, and you don’t plan to actually marry anyone after you have finished your studying, which means after 25 years old at least.

Yet it doesn’t hurt to dream a little.

Dreaming that he’s the prince in every fairytale story that sweeps you off your feet. With a happily ever after.

You are still stealing – well, commandeering one of his shirts as your pj. Not that yours is broken or anything, it’s just that his felt more … home.

And curling up in his large chair and reading some boring novel to pass the time since you have nothing better to do.

When he calls.

You sit up straight when you see the caller ID on your phone, clearing your throat and pretending you have done nothing wrong at this point, mimicking the hotel front desk with a sweet LA girl voice, “This is Andy Barber’s residence, how may I help you?”

Andy chokes a laugh, “Ha.” He then pretends to be calling for business, sounding sterner, “May I speak to Mr. Barber’s little girlfriend?”

“I’m afraid she’s not available at the moment,” you grin like the Cheshire cat, “would you like to state your name and leave a message?”

He chuckles softly, “Glad you’re having fun at my place, sweetheart. But I need a small favor.”

He absolutely did not miss the first sentence that came out of your mouth.

“Andy Barber’s residence”. Meaning you’re still at his place, and that you are willing to have dinner with him tonight. Maybe he could convince you to stay a night more. Maybe he could slip you the gift he prepared days ago, just before the unfortunate night.

He’d love to see your reaction to his gift.

But that have to wait.

“Listen, sweets.” He glares at his suit jacket and his shirt, ruined by a clumsy student and his cup of coffee, “The social event – with the students and all, starts in 20 minutes.”

“The start of term reception?” You quip.

“Yeah, that one.” He continues, “my suit is damaged by a cup of coffee and now has brown stains all over it. Shirt too. Could you please pick out a full outfit, suit jacket, pants, and shirt, and drive over to my office? I would’ve driven back and get changed, but there’s not enough time to return.”

“Sure! Sure!” You jump from the large chair, your bare feet hit the ground with a crisp slap, “I’ll be -” you check the time on your phone, “be there in 15 minutes?”

“That’d be nice. Thank you. See you at my office sweets.”

“See you in a sec.”

You hung up the phone, making a beeline toward his wardrobe.

Andy’s wardrobe is just like the rest of the house, simple and plain, white and gray. It is lined with a couple of formal suits, shirts, and a few T-shirts and khakis, all of which thin and made of soft cotton, perfect for the end of the summer. A few dark-colored cardigans were stacked neatly by the corner, on top of some thicker duvet.

You pick the full set of his navy-blue suit with dress pants, and a white shirt that looks decent.

You are putting his well-ironed suit jacket into the plastic cover when you notice there’s a small bump in his pocket.

Tissue? That’d be so yuck.

You smile to yourself, carefully turning the pocket around without touching what’s inside it.

A piece of paper, twirled into a ball of the size of your fist.

Some of the writing poked through the paper – more like put holes and cuts in it when whoever wrote it crossed them out too fast.

It’s not likely that Andy would put other people’s used paper in his pocket.

So…

You are guessing he used this sheet of paper to scribble something and was done with it. By now at least.

It’s kind of bad to look through this piece of – clearly – disregarded paper, considering it has already been wrinkled and folded, folded and wrinkled. But … well, what Andy doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

Knowing you definitely have a couple of minutes to spare, you decide to unfold the paper and see what’s on it.

To be honest, you were expecting random scribbling and drawing.

You were not expecting … this.

-Book about D/S (SM?)

-Gift :>

-Stories: Love and War, Ari&Ana

-Text

-Call?√

Your breath hitches.

Did you just find his plan for his apology?

The “Gift” has a small smiley face behind the word, and the word “Text” has been crossed over, resembling a large black dot. “Call” has a checkmark following. Does that mean his “Call” worked? When he called you and sat in his car, or out of his car, right in front of your dormitory, having this piece of paper in his pockets? Or looking at it to make sure he got the right name and title of your fiction?

“Oh Andy…” You whisper to yourself, folding the delicate piece of paper and putting it in your pocket. It’s more important to deliver the suit to Andy right now, and you can confront him – not really, just to joke and tease him about this, and tell him how much you love him and appreciate him for this.

Taglist: @geminiflanagansblog@wintasssoldier @sapphire-rogers

[the-inkwell-variable]

Writeblr Interview Tag!

Thanks so much for the tag, @sableglass!

Short stories, novels, or poems?

Novels all the way. I've tried my hand at short stories, and they always end up being novellas or straight up novels by the time I'm done with them. May as well stick with what my little brain clearly desires!

What genre do you prefer reading?

Mysteries (cozy or otherwise), horror (especially zombie fiction or apocalypse fiction, yes please), fantasy (especially cozy, I love cozy fantasy so much, have you read Legends and Lattes?), and romance.

Are you a planner or a write as I go kind of person?

I'm a little of both! I'll generally have a plan in my head at the very least, if not a brief outline written down somewhere, but when I actually sit down to write, my writing tends to veer off wherever it wants and do its own thing (for example, FUCKING CHUCK). As long as it makes sense, I tend to just let it go wherever it wants lol

What music do you listen to while writing?

Surprisingly, I don't listen to much music while writing. I'll daydream to it, absolutely, but I mostly just throw on some Markiplier or an old debate that I've heard ten thousand times and write to that. It's more about the background noise than the actual content, y'know?

But when I DO listen to music, I drift toward lofi or mood music compilations on youtube. The kind that DMs play during their DnD sessions. Love those so much, they really help keep me locked in a single mood, which I absolutely need when I'm writing a scene.

Favorite books/movies?

Oh god. Lord of the Rings (including the Hobbit don't @ me). Train to Busan (or any Korean zombie movies/shows, really). Some Disney and Pixar - Big Hero 6, Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, Emperor's New Groove, etc. The Strain is one of my favorite TV shows - I also love Cutthroat Kitchen above all else, a bunch of different anime, and Dance Moms (yes I know it's toxic and yes I am ashamed of myself for enjoying it. I pity the kids but I rage at the moms.)

As for books, my favorites are the Beechwood Harbor Mystery series, The Luminous Dead, Thief Liar Lady, All Systems Red, Legends and Lattes, A Wizard's Guide to Defensive Baking, anything Holly Black, Suffer the Children, Contagion, Luck in the Shadows, Assistant to the Villain, Dead of Night, and Surviving the Evacuation!

Any current WIPs?

Oh gosh. I'm bopping between From Carnival to Chamomile, a prequel to a cozy mystery series, and Dauntless, a zombie apocalypse trilogy, right now. Sometimes I'll work on Priestess Without Honor, a paranormal low-fantasy romance, and Chosen Against My Will, a dark mafia romance. I also have zer0 ALPHA, a lit-rpg isekai zombie apocalypse novel, but I haven't touched that in years and have only recently rediscovered my notes for it.

If someone were to make a cartoon out of you what would your standard outfit be?

I wear the same thing every day, surprisingly. That's the autism for ya. I love jeans and a T-shirt, especially if that T-shirt has a picture from an anime or show or something like that. Printed shirts, I think they're called. Oh, and mismatched socks. That's me.

Create a character description of yourself: 

Too tall for her own good and unwanted curves for days. Bobbed dark-blue hair with steel gray eyes. Too busy writing or gaming to really notice what's going on. Expect a text back within seconds of receiving it - she reads faster than most people expect and tends to read every text twice just to give it that safety buffer. If there isn't a snack and a drink nearby, call the police.

Do you like incorporating actual people you know into your writing?

Hehehehe maybe. But not exactly in a good way. I'm very much the kind of person who will put someone I dislike into my book just so they can get the justice they won't get in the real world, even over something as minor as pronouncing my name wrong on purpose (I'm looking at you, Keiara).

Are you kill happy with your characters?

I want to say yes because I kill off characters constantly, but when it comes to my main OCs, no. I can't bring myself to kill them at all. I go out of my way to create characters for death (like FUCKING CHUCK) rather than put my favorites in the line of fire. I think that's a problem I need to work on.

Coffee or Tea while writing?

coffeecoffeecoffeecoffee

but I do love tea, especially in the fall. In the fall, I tend to drift toward tea and apple cider rather than coffee.

But otherwise? Coffeeeeeee

Slow or fast writer?

Fast writer when I actually sit down to write! Slow writer when I'm procrastinating. I've been working on Dauntless for...thirteen years? Twelve?

Where/who/what do you draw inspiration from?

I get inspiration from EVERYTHING. Dreams. Books. Movies. Something dumb my partner says offhandedly.

If you were in a fantasy world, what would you be?

I absolutely want to be something cool, like a shadow mage. But I'm probably a little gremlin that hides in the edges of the woods and steals your socks. Mmmm socks.

Most fav book cliche:

Enemies to lovers! Especially when one person is smitten at firstt sight and doesn't realize it.

Least favorite cliche:

Friendship is magic. Don't get me wrong, I'm fine with powerful friendships being front and center, but when the big bad is literally destroyed because fRiEnDsHiP I gag a little bit. I also hate undeserved happy endings - make the ending make sense. If it's a sad or horror book, sometimes the ending needs to be bad. And finally, forced romance. No. No thank you. Some stories don't need romance.

Favorite scene to write?

Descriptions! Am I good at them? No. Will I spend three pages describing a tree? Maybe.

Also conversations. I tend to do a lot of conversations and monologues in my writing. Need to work on that.

Reason for writing?

If I don't write down the ideas in my head, I will explode.

TAGLIST: @falconfate - @space-writes - @leahnardo-da-veggie - @i-can-even-burn-salad - anyone who wants to take part!