#I hope it answered your question though!!

[naokointhewind]

Nanami Kento was a smart man.

You knew that.

He was smarter than most, and it was a fact that you had accepted since that very first day you bumped into him at the physics research conference you had been dragged to.

You had listened to his every word as he presented his findings to the sea of other academics in that dilapidated hall at Oxford. Every single word. And yet, all you could ever recall about his symposium was how gorgeous he looked when he explained his process. ‘He must be one of Canova’s secret projects.’ you remember thinking to yourself while he was answering questions from the crowd.

Yes, he was breathtaking to look at. But his mind was even more captivating. It was what made you fall so hard for him, marry him, and bear his child.

In fact, you corrected yourself, he was more than just smart. He was a visionary. You confirmed that hypothesis the day he correctly predicted that your unborn baby girl would grow up to be a rather talkative individual.

He says she takes after you. You say he can foretell the future.

Not only was your little chatterbox never silent, but she was also never lacking an interesting fact about the world that she had only joined three years ago.

You blamed that on your husband’s habit of reading ridiculously smart books to her. Books that some academics wouldn’t even consider reaching for at the library.

Those two traits of hers had never been much of an issue, quite the opposite. It just meant the Nanami household was hardly ever quiet. You and Kento could never have guessed that she would weaponise those qualities against her father so early on.

“Papa, no. Form of matt-uh, Papa. Form of matt-uh.” Her braided pigtails swished back and forth as she shook her head at him derisively. As if the loud correction alone wasn’t enough.

Nanami was stood on the large hardwood stage of the conference hall. The silence was loud as he froze stunned at his daughter’s interruption of his speech. It was such a small mistake—so minor that every other scholar in that hall had completely missed it. But, of course, Babymin could never miss such a detail. The hall erupted with laughter, and Nanami himself had to hold back the oddly proud smile that was itching at his lips.

His little genius had her arms folded proudly, and she sat atop your lap like it was her throne.

“Right, of course. Pardon me. Form of matter. Not form of energy.” Kento restated, after the audience had settled back down. The smile he was fighting back had won once he saw you hiding your own awestruck smile behind your hand, only after whispering a reminder to the rosy-cheeked toddler to ‘not interrupt Papa again’.

Kento didn’t mind at all, though. He adored it, actually. She was proof that the two of you had created perfection, and how could her Papa be against her revealing that perfection?

Thereafter, whenever he knew his little Einstein was going to be watching his presentations, Kento deliberately slipped in a little error, hoping to hear his daughter’s sweet voice pierce through the hush of the room to correct him once again—which she always did without fail.

end note: good lord, this is so messy (ᵕ—ᴗ—) i feel like this may have made more sense if i had made it longer, but i’m working on two requests so i just wanted to quickly get this idea out before i forgot it

[justanothermemestrider]

40k Nsfw Alphabet - Ferrus Manus x F! Reader

Aaaaaand now, a return to regular programming.

I'm kicking off with a request I've gotten from a few people: the big metal caveman himself Ferrus Manus.

Apologies for spelling and grammar errors, as well as lore inaccuracies. Also I'm taking requests rn, so please let me know in the comments, reblogs, my dms or my asks.

Hope you guys enjoy!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

In my opinion, Ferrus Manus is damned good at aftercare. He's not a master by any means (he's no Vulkan or Sangy lol), but he's got the competency and he's got the desire to make you feel comforted and cared for. That being said, he's still going to go about it like an Iron Hand: mechanically and efficiently.

When the act is complete and you two are lying in bed after, be prepared to be bombarded with questions: how are you feeling? Are you comfortable? Do you need a glass of water? Do you want him to hold you? If the answer to the latter is yes, how do you want to be held? Big spoon? Little spoon? Traditional embrace?

All of these things, Ferrus asks and executes for you with an earnest, almost grim seriousness that you find deeply amusing.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your hands because they are everything his are not: soft, gentle, warm and tender. He loves it when you cradle his cheeks, claw into his chest when you're riding him and cling to his back when he's on top.

Favourite parts of his body are probably his shoulders and chest for the reasons mentioned up above.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Ferrus doesn't like making a mess, and his favourite place to finish is deep inside you. But, if you were to ask him to finish somewhere else for your own pleasure or enjoyment, he'd happily oblige.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

This man is a bottom. A massive, submissive bottom. On similar vibes to Guilliman and Dorn, Ferrus finds being a strong, immovable rock of a Primarch very exhausting. So, behind closed doors, with the women who loves him most, he likes being able to let that persona go.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Ferrus has no first hand experience, but after getting together with you, he made it his mission to get educated. He didn't want to disappoint you, and he was also (internally) anxious about making a fool of himself.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position where you're on top. As mentioned earlier, this man is a bottom. He was you taking the lead.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Deadly serious. All the time. Every time. The seriousness is cranked up to 120%

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Ferrus is the 2nd hairest Primarch after Leman Russ. Not just downstairs, but his chest, back and everywhere else (except his arms, obviously). Unlike Russ, though, Ferrus keeps his hair very well groomed.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It will take a bit of time, but eventually I see Ferrus becoming one of the more emotionally intimate primarchs. In the HH books, his entire arc is his relearning the importance of emotionality, the "strength to be gentle" so to speak. Being in a relationship with you would accelerate that arc, leading to him becoming a surprisingly romantic man. He's still stoic and stern, of course, that's his personality after all. But underneath that is an inherently compassionate heart that, eventually, becomes capable of great and deep love.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

The necrodermis covering his hands and arms makes masterbating super uncomfortable for poor Ferrus. If he's got urges, he needs either a toy or you in order to satiate them.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

The aforementioned submissiveness includes a little bit of bondage if Ferrus is feeling particularly stressed out or worn down.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Your shared bedroom- it's a matter of efficiency and effectiveness. The bed is the most comfortable for you, everything you both need to pleasure each other is all there, and there's absolutely no chance of you being interrupted or walked in on.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Any physical advances or teases on your part has Ferrus feeling hopelessly aroused. An embrace from behind, a hand on his knee that slowly traces up to his inner thigh. Anything like that gets this man flustered and hard almost instantly.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that involves hurting (pretending or otherwise), degrading or overpowering you. Blood, violence and brutality are part of his job, he doesn't want to bring any of that into the bedroom.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He far prefers to give and he's HELLA good at it. He's basically perfected the technique. The reason for this is because he knows he can't use his hands (or at least, he doesn't feel comfortable using them), because the risk of hurting you is way to high.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and sensual. Ferrus doesn't want to hurt you, doesn't want to risk being rough lest he grip you too hard with his metal hands or hurt you with his enormous size and weight. He prefers it when you set the pace; he will only go as fast or as rough as you are.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

While Ferrus prefers taking his time with you, he's not against quickies. And he's damned good at them, too. He is efficient, after all. Efficient and effective. Whether you've got two minutes with him or two hours, Ferrus is making you finish.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Ferrus isn't much of a risk taker. He knows what works for him and what works for you and he doesn't really see the point is changing that. Very much a "if it ain't broke, don't fix it" kinda mindset.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Typical Primarch stamina. All night, all day, as many rounds as you can physically endure.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Ferrus is 100% into the idea of toys, both your use of them and his own. If you ask him, he'll even forge some for you ;)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Ferrus isn't a tease at all. If he wants you, he's gonna tell you explicitly, in the most direct, clunky and verbose way possible.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

The first few times you sleep together, Ferrus is pretty modest with his noises; panting and grunting, primarily. But, as he grows more comfortable, he'll get loud. Quite loud.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Part of the reason why, before the Istvaan 3, Ferrus had resolved to find a way to remove the necrodermis from his hands, is because he wants to be able to touch you properly. With his own skin, not alien metal. Good thing he made it back from Istvaan safe and sound and with his head intact, right?

Right?

Guys?

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

E N O R M O U S. Only Primarch whose bigger is Vulkan. Nothing more, your honour.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not that high. His own desire, Ferrus keeps on a fairly short leash. Both because of his personality, but also so he can focus entirely on his missions. However, if you need to be satisfied, he'll drop everything to give you what you need.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Ferrus is never asleep before you. Ever. Not until he's absolutely certain you are comfortable, safe and have had all your needs tended to.

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

Taglist: @solspina @beckyninja @egrets-not-regrets @wolf-feathers12 @jaghatai-khock @lemon-russ @moodymisty @hatsubara-8chan @nereidof40k @yanagikou @fyxestroll @yurihasurunbara @justfreakynothingelse @mooniequeen

[killinqpills]

★─── yandere sagau. ii

𝐋𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄.

𝕽𝗘𝗚𝗥𝗘𝗧 doesn't really go away at all. It's almost like a stain against our skin, and the longer you leave it to fester without wiping it away, the faster it'll seep into your bones. Until eventually, it drips onto your souls and becomes permanent, a haunting reminder of a tragedy you created for yourself.

"why did you do it?"

Venti asked without a thought or anger, an emotion he ironically feels like he's drowning in, but for some reason couldn't express. Perhaps it's because he realizes that he's already shattered, held together only by false hopes and endless what if's, bitterness might as well leave him scattered against the ground like ashes in the winds.

But he didn't know who to be angry at. The easiest answer would've been himself, but his cup of self loathing was already full to the brim, practically overflowing without a sense of direction.

Besides, the blame had always been easier to pin on someone else when we're reluctant to hate ourselves a little more. It's a small mercy we grant our hearts, the fleeting lie that we're still redeemable, with flaws and all.

Venti prays, no matter how selfish it would be, that you'd be returned to his undeserving hands once more, swearing on everything, that he'd cradle you gently this time.

What amusing thought, right? He, a god who his people once prayed to, now kneels on the grounds himself and begs for salvation. Like a lost lamb blindly searching for its shepherd whom it ran away from, desperate to make it back to them.

Back to you.

"why didn't you stop me?"

Zhongli asks him, just as dully.

A question for a question, because neither of them knew the answer to either one. Or perhaps they did, but the weight of the truth was simply far too heavy for them to carry.

He feels everything yet nothing at all.

That's a lie though, there's something unbearably ugly simmering at the very bottom of his heart, on the edge of boiling and spilling all over him like it did all those years ago; despair.

It felt just as heavy as it did when you first left.

Although at that time, you had left on your own, disappearing off of the face of teyvat while those who you've left behind scrambled to keep you alive through their own means. Endless tales were woven through the silks of history, and everyone made sure it'd remain to be one of the few things left unaltered by time.

And now you're gone once more, away and out of his reach and there he was, begging for you to return despite being the one to cause it.

Zhongli might've been many things, but he was not made to be gentle.

He was sharp and pointed to every edge, and although time had done its job to soften his jagged thorns, blades that are blunt and rusted tend to hurt the most.

He's nicked you more than enough times in the past, as the young, prideful god he was, stubborn and violent. Unused to your gentleness in a world that seemed to thrive in conflict, yet still so enraptured of the way you brush off the sting so easily, letting him close despite it all, over and over again.

"I miss them." Venti utters, no more than whisper, something you could almost disregard as a small gush of wind in the night. But the quiet confession would be the loudest thing Zhongli would ever hear in his decades of living.

Grunting, Zhongli looks away, eyes unreadable as he gazes blankly at the sorry excuse of a land that's been left to spread after the false creators death.

. . .

A violet cry was heard behind him, as violent as the winds became as Venti raised a weapon against the creator.

Gasping, Furina watched horrified as an arrow fused with anemo flew through the air with an almost violent whistling sound, then, a body slumps.

The grating laughter that once infested her ears now is nothing more but a deafening silence, like waiting for the inevitable worst to come, but being unsure of what exactly it is.

"You─.." Ei muttered, stunned.

There, sitting on a golden throne like a looming shadow, once the oddity which called itself the creator, was now nothing more than a corpse with an arrow embedded in their chest. Dark, thick and almost obsidian colored blood oozing out from their wound.

Then, panic struck.

"We.. we've committed a grave sin!"

Once the unnamed man shouted such words, the archons watched as their people scrambled to leave, pushing against the other and screaming their heads off in hysteria.

At lost for words, they could do nothing more but try and fail to calm them down with gestures and soundless pleas because their words simply get lost in a sea of anguished cries.

"T─this can't be!"

"The creator will punish us!"

"No─ no! I did not even want to be a part of this!"

"Please, I don't want to die!"

At that moment, something catches Xiao's eye. Turning his head to the throne, he observes as the corpse bloats ever so slightly, skin rippling as if something wretched was wiggling beneath it, attempting to pierce through the skin, as though it was about to:

"Explode." He gasps in realization.

When a god dies, their divine power is released back into the world, often causing significant environmental changes and disruptions, while their consciousness fades away, effectively marking their death.

"Get away from the throne─!"

His shout echoes above all other voices, effectively catching the other's attention. But by then it was already too late, in horror he watches as the body erupts, causing him to close his eyes on instinct despite knowing that doing so wouldn't shield him from the impact.

...

Zhongli closes his fist, it trembles slightly, aching ever so slightly from overexerting himself to create a shield large enough to prevent anyone it can reach from being exposed to the utter chaos he sees now.

A large patch of land now lay wasted, covered in a dark substance that looks as though it's spreading ever so slightly, like water that spills without end.

Clearly, not everyone had managed to avoid being hit by it. Bodies upon bodies lay in the substance, looking almost as though they're melting into it in a sick and twisted way. The false creators final display of possession over something that was never theirs in the first place.

Your body was in there too.

Swallowing vile down his throat was no easy task this time.

Xiao, who barely managed to escape, stands beside him, head titled down and unable to look at anything or anyone without being overwhelmed with shame and guilt.

Zhongli could not bring himself to comfort him this time, for they're simple two souls drowning in grief, he's unable to keep the other afloat without the threat of being submerged himself. All he could offer now, was a silent apology.

"Is there no way to get rid of it?"

Ei asks, coming up beside them with Yae following suit, the pair walking in sync with heavy expressions on their faces. Venti shrugs, almost bored, but they knew not to take it as that, for this was the bard expressing defeat.

"Let's just hope we find a solution, before it gets rid of us."

He says casually, looking back towards the wreckage, the others following in suit. They watch anxiously as the substance spreads, looking as though it was trying to devour everything in its path, vile and unforgiving, things you never were.

For a moment, Zhongli wonders what would've happened had you not descended as quietly as you did in your mortal body. But unlike Venti, Zhongli was not content with settling on endless what─if's.

Shuffling, Yae notes the way the grass beneath her feet seemed rotten, dried and dead as though they're no longer able to rise with life. Actually, looking around, she realizes that everything seemed awfully.. dead.

Everything looked gloomy, the air was cold and lacked sunlight, the trees wilted and some if not most had already fallen, not a single animal in sight, not even a soft chirp from a distant bird, or a cricket from an insect to be heard.

"At this rate, it doesn't seem like we'll be able to live long enough to see that."

She sighs grimly, and with a quick look around, nobody else could find it in themselves to argue otherwise.

From afar, paimon worriedly gazes at her surroundings, feeling utterly helpless at the outcome of mankind's greatest mistake. Her heart aches as her eyes darts from one place to another, not liking the way everything just seems so devoid of life.

Aether stands near her, observing as well, but instead of despair like many others, his stare was contemplative.

Things have been rather difficult for the last few days, the citizens briefly exposed from the dark substance began falling ill one after the other, and although food and medicine had yet to become scarce, with the rate of natural life beginning to dwindle all across teyvat, everyone knows it'll just be a matter of time before everything starts going downhill.

Not like it hasn't already, though.

"Is. . . is this really it?"

Paimon's voice quivers, tears welling up in her eyes as she floats closer to the traveler for comfort.

Is this how it's gonna end?

There's an unsettling silence that engulfs them for a moment.

"No."

Startled by his sudden words, or rather, word. Paimon whips her head towards Aether, stunned and equally confused at his seemingly unwavering resolve.

"wha─ what do you mean?" She asks hesitantly.

For a moment, Aether refused to answer, perhaps too caught up in his own inner thoughts which were a mess of indecipherable words and unsure possibilities. But then, he opens his mouth.

"A god who willingly died at the hands of their own creation─"

He pauses.

"Do you truly think that such a person who loves more than anything, would allow this to happen?"

Conflict struck Paimon and she feels a sinking pit at the bottom of her stomach. Defeated and ashamed, she lowers her tearful gaze to the ground.

"No, but that kind of mercy.." Her voice trembles, struggling to let the words fall from her tongue.

Aether turns to look at her, a look of grim understanding that she shares being passed between their gazes.

"It's not something we deserve."

Your love, the kindness that flows through your veins, the warmth in your eyes, the pureness of your heart, your nature which remains merciful.

All of which we are undeserving of.

The truth had never tasted so bitter in Aether's tongue before. Somewhere, deep─ deep down, he hopes you are truly dead.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 :

Woah?? my lazy ass actually made a part 2? surprise.

Anyways this is a lot shorter than I would've liked it to be, but honestly I'm at lost on what to write. Thanks to those who reblogged / commented and stuff, it was a great source of motivation.

Stay tuned for more (maybe)

Taglist : @n0tmentallystable @iris-arcadia @starboye @sims-4lifers

[markrosewater]

I just realized how weird it will be when you retire someday (hopefully not that soon) and we wont have you answering questions on all aspects of the game and WotC day in day out. Even if I don't agree with some/many recent decisions I really appreciate what you do here and especially your thoughtful and kind answers to some...less than open-minded askers. Though I don't expect your eventual successor to have a blog like this, I hope it won't just go to radio silence. But until then, thank you.

Time has shown I have a weird personality when it comes to something like this blog. Play design decided to start a blog many years ago. There were seven people on the team at the time, so they each would have to only cover one day a week. They only made it a couple of months.

I assume whoever follows me won’t do this. Will I keep answering questions after I retire? I have no idea.

[beomiracles]

𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 TAPE 04

𝓓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝓔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 ⸝⸝ Moving rapidly through your career as one of the leading female investigators, you never once encountered a case you couldn't crack. Though you never expected for your past mistakes to come back and haunt you in the form of an ex lover, accused of murder. ⸝⸝

𝓹airings criminal!beomgyu x detective!reader 𝔀arnings drinking, kissing, vaginal fingering, public sex, creampie, biting? (lol how tf do I tag that), tiny bit of hair pulling (beomgyu receiving), smoking, references to blood but nothing detailed !

📼 THE TAPE RECORDINGS

𝓣𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝓢𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 contains dark themes portraying unhealthy and toxic relationships and substance abuse. reader discretion is advised ! — this story is partly told in flashbacks, beware of timestamps as past/present are mixed throughout the story.

#serene adds ✎.. SQUEE GUYS!! all of the tapes have officially been re-released! from here forward it will only be entirely new tapes !! I hope you guys are as excited as I am for this :3

[ ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။| TAPE 04 ] — I Don't Smoke — recording length; 6.1k + PLAYLIST

📼 — PRESENT TIME ; February 20th 2024

You could not sleep that night. No matter how hard you tossed and turned, you couldn’t pull the images of him from your mind. Your conversation rings in your head, replaying itself over and over until every last word was engraved in your heart. The warmth of his breath against your face hovers above you, a ghost-like memory, an almost lucid one. 

With a tired groan you roll over on your stomach, burying your face in the pillow as you prepare to go through the evening’s events once more. 

“Yet you’re here.” — “But you shouldn’t be.” 

No. You shouldn’t be here. Seeing detained suspects outside of office hours, with no surveillance, it was most prohibited. Your mere presence here could quite frankly cost you your job, the one you had worked so hard for. But this was different. This wasn’t about now, it was about then. You weren’t a detective tonight, and he wasn’t a suspect. You were you and he was him. Just like it had been ten months ago. 

Beomgyu catches your inner struggle, the already present smirk on his lips stretching wider. “So why are you?” He lets his head fall to the side, the question echoing down the vacant hallway. You knew why, yet you had hoped he wouldn’t ask. But of course, Beomgyu saw right through you, and he’d always known exactly where to push in order for you to finally crack. 

Patience was not something he lacked and so he waited patiently when you fiddled with the back of your earring, twiddled with the hem of your sleeve, glanced down the corridor and then back up. Without the files in your hand, without his hands chained in front of him, and without the large metal table parting you, he somehow felt closer. This was far more intimate than any of your previous encounters since his arrival yesterday night. And you hate it. 

“I need answers.” Your voice is thick, laced with a hint of worry, constantly aware of the dangers of your situation. You were gambling with both your heart and your position here. — Beomgyu huffs, the sound coming out as a quiet chuckle when he shakes his head. 

“I thought that was what our sessions were for, no? He quirks a brow, but you know better than to fall for it. He knew that it wasn’t why you had come. — You shake your head firmly, “It’s not the kind of answers I want.”

His lip twitches, his smirk not faltering one bit. 

“Something you can’t share with that colleague of yours?” 

You frown, hands balling into fists by your sides. “Something that doesn’t concern him”, you state as you press your lips into a thin line. Your heart is beating loudly against your chest, its persistent thump playing in your ears akin to a heavy drum; a constant reminder of the power he still holds over you, even as he sits inside a small cell. 

Beomgyu hums, his fingers trailing the outline of the small window. You find your gaze lingering by the metal rings adorning them as they glint in the soft light coming from behind him. “Well go on then”, he pauses, dark eyes flickering from the dust on his finger and over to yours as they narrow, “You’ve never been one to shy away from asking questions, dollface.” 

You swallow. 

For the past ten months you had wondered what it would be like to come face to face with him once more. What would you tell him? Part of you wanted to blatantly ignore him, to act as if he had never even existed in your life. That was a satisfactory thought, one you allowed yourself to imagine in order to feel better. 

You knew that you wouldn’t be able to refrain from indulging as soon as your eyes landed on him though. There were at least a thousand questions soaring through your mind, questions you had longed to ask for what felt like forever. — But as you stand before him, with your heart beating out of your chest and sweat pooling on your forehead, you suddenly find yourself at loss for words. 

“That night”, you slowly begin, drawing your speech out as you try your hardest to gauge his reaction. He isn’t interrupting you, instead he waits patiently as ever for you to finish. “You did not come after me.” His eyes narrow. — “Why didn’t you?” 

He remains silent. And for a moment you worry that he might not give you an answer at all, it wouldn’t be the first he did. His brow twitches, and for a moment he looks almost confused. But that quickly fades and is soon replaced by his ever stoic expression. “Did you want me to?” He returns your question with one of his own. 

Did you want him to? Back then you had feared that he would.. But when he hadn’t.. When you had been left all alone with your own thoughts, the ones that had been chained under his presence, you suddenly found yourself lost. — “It doesn’t matter if I wanted you to or not.” You fold your arms across your chest, “Why didn’t you?” 

He exhales, the smirk on his face falling as his features twist into something gloomy. “I read your note.” The following silence is deafening, despite his words coming out a mere breath. You feel your blood go cold. — The note. You remember the small and wrinkly piece of paper all too well, the blurry lines you had so quickly scribbled down, the ink ruined by your own tears. You didn’t think that he had actually read it. It had merely existed to dull the ache of your own wounds, never had you imagined him actually… 

Suddenly the memories all come crashing down on you in picture perfect quality, the memories you had longed to forget. The blood, the blood on his hands. There had been so much blood. The red crimson had mixed with the rain, heavy and hard as it poured over you. Goosebumps rise on your skin and you pull your gaze from his. 

It had been a bad idea to come here. You should have stayed away. 

The cold metal of his rings startle you when Beomgyu’s hand suddenly reaches for your chin. You hadn’t realized just how close you were standing to the door. Close enough for his hand to reach through the small window, for his fingers to lock your head in place as they grasped your jaw. 

“Leaving so soon, dollface? — I thought you wanted answers.” His voice is low as he studies your frightened expression with a taunting one. Your wide eyes dart down the hallway before returning back to him. “Let me go”, you seethe as you try to shrug him off. 

His grip tightens before it eases, and with a quiet hum his knuckles caress your cheek, the action makes you shudder. “I am many things, dollface”, he murmurs as he lets you go, his hand slipping back through the small window as he takes a step back, the darkness of his cell immediately consuming half his face. — “But I am not that.” 

Then he turns away from you, and you can just about make out his figure in the dark as he heads for the small bed provided. He sits down on it, his elbows on his knees as he turns the rings on his fingers. — Everything is quiet, even the beating of your own heart has dulled into faint background noise. 

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you had been holding in. You knew that you weren’t going to get another word out of him, and with a defeated sigh you reached for the hatch on the window. But as your fingers grasp the small lock, he suddenly speaks up. — “You haven’t told them what you saw.” The statement sends a chill down your spine, because you knew exactly what he was referring to. You knew all too well. 

Beomgyu lifts his head, the dark strands of his long hair falling from his face. He turns your way, his dark eyes finding yours in an instant. “If you did, I wouldn’t be here right now.” The truth is harsh and bitter, it makes you feel guilty, ashamed even. But Beomgyu smirks, a small chuckle passing his lips. “Perhaps I was wrong about you, dollface.” 

His gaze zeroes on your hand, hesitating by the window hatch. — “Just how deep does your loyalty still run?” 

⸝⸝

📼 — April 29th 2022

“Oh please”, Kayla pleads, her voice sounds near desperate on the other line. You push your phone to your ear, balancing it on your shoulder as you continue to wipe down the table you had just cleared. “I don’t know, there’s just so much coursework and then I’m working again tomorrow afternoon.” 

You tried to swiftly avoid a blunt ‘no’ as you worked around your answer. Kayla had been pestering you to go out with her for days since it ‘had been so long’ since last. You knew better, it was just another excuse since she and her so-called ‘boyfriend’ were on yet another break and your friend longed to rebound with the first suitable candidate. 

Though you would admit that you had been neglecting your duties as her friend. From the dismissed texts to the unreturned calls. Suppose you felt guilty for going behind her back like this, you knew that Beomgyu was the last person she’d want to see you acquainted with, and you were doing just that. So you had distanced yourself. 

The right thing would be to go out with her, but tonight… It wasn’t like your excuses weren’t valid. You were busy, still, a small part of you wanted to keep your calendar clear, just in case Beomgyu would text. It was pathetic really, seeing as you hadn’t heard from him in nearly two weeks. — You bit your lip as you thought about what could possibly be keeping him from you. Work? You had no clue of what he did for a living for Beomgyu was very vague about his private life. He didn’t tell you much, then again, you never asked. 

“Fine”, you groan as you set the cloth aside to move over to the next table. Kayla squeals on the phone as she promises that the two of you are going to have a blast. Though your amusement didn’t quite reach her levels, you still agreed as you settled on details. — When the call ends you shove your phone back into your pocket to resume working. 

You’re about halfway done clearing the table, with plates stacked on both your arms as you maneuver around the chairs, when a voice from behind startles you. “Here, let me help you with these”, Soobin says as he takes a handful of plates from you. — “O-Oh! Thank you.” You give him a sheepish smile as you allow him to walk you back toward the kitchen doors. 

Soobin’s parents ran the restaurant you were working at, and despite him being a couple years your senior, the two of you got along well as he often stopped by to help his mom and dad out. — “How have you been?” He asks when holding the door open for you. Giving him a thankful nod, you shrug, “Tired, overworked and exhausted? – I’m just glad this semester is coming to an end in a month or so.” 

Soobin nods as he follows you over to the countertop, setting the plates down on it. “Fairs, you work hard.” He grins, “But it’s paying off well! Just imagine when you get your degree.” You hum as you pick up a plate and run it under the faucet, “You’re right.” One thing about Soobin was that he always seemed to get your mind off of things, whether it be school or work, or even Beomgyu.. His abilities to see things on the bright side seemed to lighten your own mood tenfold. 

He leans against the countertop, his arms folded across his chest as he watches you clean the dirty plates. “Got any plans for summer?” He asks and you purse your lips as you pick up a sponge and drench it in dish soap. “Dunno… I’ll probably pick up a few extra shifts around here, so don’t think you’ll see less of me.” You send him a small smile before your attention returns to the dishes in front of you. 

Soobin chuckles as he runs a hand through his dark hair. “I wouldn’t want it any other way”, he mumbles. “My parents love you”, he then adds, and you feel heat rushing to your cheeks at the sudden compliment. “I’m sure they’re more than thrilled to have you here all summer.. Just don’t forget to take some time for yourself as well”, he then adds. 

You raise a brow as you shoot him a side glance. “Are you trying to rid yourself of me?” you tease, expecting nothing more but a laugh in return. Soobin however, shakes his head. “Certainly not”, he says as he takes the now clean plate from your hands in order to dry it. — “On the contrary”, he clears his throat, “I was going to ask if you could somehow fit me somewhere in your hectic calendar.” 

Your hand misses the glass you were aiming for and instead your fingers fumble against the bubbles that had formed due to the soap as you blink up at him. Sure you and Soobin spent a great deal of time together, and you considered him a good friend, but that was all thanks to your job at his parent’s restaurant. You never saw each other outside, yet here he was openly asking for such a fact to change? 

He’s quick to note your hesitation and hurriedly adds, “Only if you’re up for it of course!” He clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “Me and a couple of friends are renting this place not far from the city, I would love for you to join us..” — You watch as he fiddles with the cloth in his hands, anxiously awaiting his response. 

You hadn’t thought of Soobin much that way, but as you regard the soft tint to his cheeks, the way his gaze flickers between the floor and you nervously, you can’t help but find him cute. “I would like that a lot”, you send him an equally shy smile and Soobin’s face immediately lights up. 

He looks like he’s about to say something else but before he gets the chance to, a hoarse voice breaks the silence. “Young man!” You immediately recognize it as none other than your own boss. Soobin cowers behind you as the elderly lady approaches the two of you with rapid steps. Though his attempts at seeking refuge prove futile as she grabs ahold of his ear, yanking down on it hard. 

“What do you think you’re doing? Waltzing in here and distracting my best employee from her duties!” Her harsh tone makes your eyes widen and you almost drop the plate still in your grasp. Soobin winces as he puts his hands up in surrender, “Mom, please! We were just..” — “Just what?” She retorts as she gives his ear another pull. 

Baffled, you bite back a smile, “It’s no trouble Mrs Choi. He’s been helping me out with the dishes.” Your attempt at soothing her fragile nerves seemed successful as the old woman let go of her son and straightened her back, even then, she just barely reached your chest. 

“Hmpf, as long as he makes use of himself I suppose..” She mutters as she sends Soobin a glare, one he returns with a frown as he cradles his ear. — “But I don’t even work her-” He cuts himself short with a small cough when his mom raises a threatening fist his way, “Alright! Alright!” 

Mrs Choi turns her attention to you as she flattens out the apron over her legs. “Very well. Are you staying for dinner, dear?” She asks, her once bitter expression replaced with a warm one. You quickly nod before politely accepting her offer, “I would be delighted to.” 

Your throat burns as you down your third shot of the night. Upon setting the empty glass down, you lean against the bar top as your eyes wander across the crowded dance floor. People were pushed up against one another, their bodies moving uncoordinatedly yet somehow beautifully. — “You wanna dance?” Kayla asks as she sets her own empty shot glass down. 

True to her word, she had stuck by you the entire night, the main reason being the fact that she had yet to scour out a worthy candidate to accompany her home. Still, you couldn’t deny the sense of comfort her chaotic presence brought your tense nerves. “Sure”, you grin as you allow her to take your hand in hers.

The floor moves in rhythm with the beat, your knees feel wobbly but you manage to remain standing through it all. Even as Kayla twirls you in her arms, just barely catching you again as she giggles. Some songs are familiar, others aren't, that didn’t matter much. You found yourself having a lot more fun than you had originally anticipated. And as the night went on the guilt you had been carrying seemed to lessen. 

Perhaps this had been just what you needed, an escape from your otherwise mundane reality. The one where you waited on someone to call, like a lost puppy astray without its owner. Only that someone hardly seemed to care for your longing touch. 

Beomgyu was always on your mind, so much so that sometimes you thought you saw him in other people. In class, at work, even on your way home, you thought you could catch a glimpse of him through the corner of your eye. But as you turned around, you found yourself disappointed yet again. 

So when you’d seen his dark shadow moving across the outskirts of the dancefloor you had brushed it off as another trick of your mind, nothing but the alcohol and your insatiable need for him speaking. But then as Kayla twirls you around once more and your gaze falls on his figure, leaning against the wall, you knew that this wasn’t another of your hallucinations. 

It was undeniably him. Dressed in all black, he nearly blended with the dark wall behind him. The moment is over before you can as much as blink and then you’re back in Kayla’s arms. But for that short second you could’ve sworn that your eyes had met. Your heart nearly stopped. — He quickly disappears from your line of sight as the crowd around you presses closer and you helplessly search from you, completely forgetting about Kayla who was watching you with a frown. 

Fate was cruel. It seemed to know exactly when you craved him the most. Then it would taunt you by flaunting him before your very eyes, close enough to just barely send your mind spiraling, but far enough to remain out of reach for your desperate hands. 

Then, your eyes fall on her. She looks no different from the women he’d been surrounded by that night, the night when you had first met. Her smile is deceiving, her nails sharp as they trail his chest. He leans closer, an arm snaking around her waist, dark hair tickling her face when goes to whisper something in her ear. You can’t hear her laugh but you can see it. And it fucking hurts. 

The rings on his fingers glint under the flashing lights as they brush against her naked thigh, inching closer to where her short skirt ends. He was… You turn your head away in disgust, swallowing the lump in your throat when your gaze meets Kayla’s. 

Your hand is sweaty as you grab hers, and before you know it you’re pulling her along as you push your way through the crowded dance floor. Her protests go over your head, and your grip only grows harsher when she tries to break free. It felt as though you were walking through quicksand. You were sinking faster than you were running. 

It’s not until the cold night air hits your scorching hot face that you finally let her go. The back door slams shut behind you, the sound echoing off the vacant alleway. “What’s gotten into you?” Kayla shrieks as she jerks her hand back, cradling her wrist to her chest with a deep frown on her face. — You don’t answer her as you allow your body to slump against the rough brick wall. 

You breathe in through your nose, letting the fresh air fill your lungs as you trap it there. When you exhale through parted lips you let your eyes flutter closed. “Just needed some air”, you murmur. 

Kayla huffs, sounding deflated as she, too, leans against the side of the building. “You okay?” She whispers, this time her voice is laced with concern. You can feel her gaze on you as she studies your absent expression. “Yes”, you nod. — She pauses, “Do you want to get out of here?” 

You shake your head. “No, I’ll be fine.” You’d be damned to let something as simple as this ruin your night out. Except, Beomgyu was anything but simple. The thought of leaving was tempting, but you told yourself that you had run away for the last time. This wouldn’t change anything. 

“Go on back inside, I’ll join you in a few.” Cracking an eye open, you give your find a reassuring smile. And though she seems far from convinced she nods. “Text me if you change your mind”, Kayla says as he places a quick kiss to your cheek. 

You wait until the door closes behind her before resting your head against the hard brick. Taking the quiet moment to glance around the desolate alley, you find nothing but overcrowded trash cans and empty beer bottles littering the streets. You were all alone, at last. — With a content exhale you close your eyes, basking in the comforting silence that had enveloped you. 

Perhaps it had been rather childish to make such a dramatic exit, but in that very moment, it had been your only escape. You hadn’t seen him like that since.. Since you first met. And after almost two weeks of not seeing one another once, he seemed to be doing just fine, acting as though the whole world laid at his feet. — All the while you struggled to even go a day without him, desperately waiting on a single text in his name. God, when did you allow yourself to stoop to such a level. 

Why was it so easy for him? It was all games and fun in his world. Why could you not share his carefree ways? Why did you have to be the only one suffering from a seemingly pleasure filled agreement? It was unfair. 

Was he not as addicted to you as you were to him? 

Fine. It didn’t matter, nothing mattered anymore. He was off doing god knows what with that chick and you were… here. No, not anymore. You inhale, preparing to put on the strongest of fronts and go back inside. — But before you’re able to let said breath go, the door next to you opens. 

You remain still, completely unmoving as you wait for whoever has come to pass again. They never do. And soon you feel another warm body join you as they, too, lean against the cold brick wall. Everything is quiet, everything is still, time is frozen. 

Carefully you listen as they shuffle about, likely rummaging through their pockets in search of something. Then a click, the one a lighter makes. The smell of thick black smoke hits you not long after and you nearly turn your nose up in disgust. — Next to you, the person exhales, a long and heavy breath. 

“Not even a hello?” 

Beomgyu’s relaxed voice sends a chill down your spine and your eyes snap open. You had known that it was him from the moment he’d stepped outside. Still, you had allowed yourself to blissfully ignore his presence until he decided to make it known. — You keep your eyes on the messy graffiti covering the brick wall opposite you. Following the scribbly lines, you draw in a short breath. “I didn’t think it would be appropriate to.” 

Through the corner of your eye you could see him bring a cigarette to his lips. The end lights up when he inhales slowly, his hand returning to his side once more. He exhales the thick smoke, almost as poisonous as himself. “No?” He hums and even though you refuse to turn his way you can still feel his piercing gaze on you. 

“No.” You firmly agree as you fold your arms across your chest. “You looked… Busy.” With the subtle clearing of your throat you avoid directly targeting the fact that he’d had both eyes and hands on another woman just moments prior. 

But your vague answers didn’t discourage him in the slightest as Beomgyu scoffs. “Does that matter to you?” He asks the question as if you were the one in the wrong, making you out to be a fool for thinking otherwise. You bite your lip, your arms pulling tighter around yourself as you keep your gaze set ahead. 

“Why wouldn’t it?” 

You were being truthful, as honest as you could be. It took everything in you to lay your insecurities bare, and even then you were unable to hide the jealous sting in your voice. The thought of that woman, of all the others.. It made your face twist into a scowl without you even registering it, making your chest contract and your stomach hurt. 

And while Beomgyu had made it clear that what you had was purely sexual, you couldn’t help but find yourself doubting his actions. Things just didn’t add up. He treated you so differently, yet like nothing at all. — Why did it bother you so much that he could so easily venture off with another woman whilst you struggled to even think of a man that wasn’t him. 

Beomgyu hums, the sound low and eerily calm as he takes another drag of his cigarette. “And if I wasn’t busy?” He asks as he twirls the cigarette between his fingers. His questions leaves you unprepared, catching you completely off guard and you purse your lips as your gaze drops to the pavement in front of you. 

Would you have approached him if he was by himself? Would you have asked him to dance, would you have let his hands wander in front of everyone? Perhaps you would’ve asked him to take you somewhere private, maybe you wouldn’t have had to ask at all. 

“I don’t know.” You finally state as you turn your head in his direction, getting your first proper look at him that night. His head is tilted down, causing his dark hair to shield his expression from your curious eyes. Though you could tell that his attention was fixed to the cigarette between his fingers. His lips were slightly parted, his tongue swiping across his bottom one absentmindedly. 

“It’s hard to know when you’re available..” You quietly add and Beomgyu’s eyes flicker toward you. Feeling yourself tense up under his gaze, you shift against the wall as you avoid making direct eye contact. 

“If I was available right now?” He holds out the cigarette for you to take. Eyeing it with disdain for a moment, you decline by shaking your head, “I don’t smoke.” — Beomgyu cocks an eyebrow at you, “You’d be the first to decline.” He studies you for a moment, the corner of his lip twitching into a faint smirk. “But you’re the first of many things, dollface”, he says as he brings the cigarette to his lips. 

You regard his relaxed posture with a frown. First of what? Sometimes it felt as though you and Beomgyu were playing an endless maze-like game, where every twist and turn led you into further confusion, forging new paths that didn’t make half as much sense as the previous one had. He, on the other hand, seemed to be holding all the cards, and you just aimlessly wandered. 

The brief conversation only served to frustrate you further and with a small sigh you push yourself off the wall as you make a move to go around him and back inside. But as your fingers brush the cool handle of the door, his hand suddenly wraps around your wrist, effectively freezing you in place. 

Confused, you try to pull away from his harsh grip. “Don’t you have someone waiting for you in there?” You retort, unable to hide the snappy tone you used. — Beomgyu drops the cigarette, crushing it under the sole of his shoe before shoving you back against the brick wall, easily pinning you against it. 

“No.” He simply states as his dark eyes rake over your stunned expression and down to your skimpily dressed figure. “Told you I was available right now, didn’t I?” He drawls, his hot breath mere inches from your already heated face. 

“But what if I’m not available?” You counter, only to watch the once faint smirk on his lips widen tenfold. “You wouldn’t have ran out here if you were.” Fuck, so he did see you. You’re certain that he can feel the warmth on your face when his thumb brushes over your cheek, threatening to ruin your neat makeup. 

“Fuck, do you always look this dolled up? Even when it’s not for me?” He murmurs, a small almost unnoticeable frown tugging on his brows. His gaze drops to your lips, coated in a shiny gloss. — His mouth is on yours before you can even think, much less form a coherent response. He wastes no time as his rough hands cup your face, pulling you impossibly close only to push his tongue inside your waiting mouth. 

You gasp against his lips, eyes wide as your hands frantically push at his chest. “Wait! Not here- What if someone sees?” 

Beomgyu chuckles, a low and raspy laugh that vibrates on your tongue. His hands leave your face, eagerly descending down your chest, brushing over your already hardened nipples, concealed only by the thin fabric of your dress. — You let out a startled yelp when the cold metal of his rings make contact with the back of your thighs as Beomgyu hikes your legs around his waist; his lips moving down your jaw as he presses hungry kisses to your skin. 

His urgent and almost feverish demeanor confused you. He could go weeks without as much as asking to see you, but when he did it was like he’d been starved of you for years. It didn’t make sense. However you find yourself both unable and unwilling to question his strange behaviour further when his hands suddenly push your already short dress up above your hips. 

“Beomgyu I’m serious!” You whine, yet you find yourself pulling him closer, your nails digging into his shoulders. No matter how hesitant the public display made you feel, you were unable to hold back from satiating the craving you’d been trying to feed for so long.

He scoffs when he sees you throw an anxious glance down the empty alley, your gaze lingering by the door he’d emerged from not long ago. “C’mon dollface, don’t go shy on me now”, he taunts against your neck before pulling your skin between his teeth, making you cry out. 

Fuck it. At least he was here with you and not the woman he’d been feeling up not even an hour prior. You were all that mattered to him. Right? That’s why he’d gone after you, only you. It’s what you tell yourself, it’s the only truth you’re willing to swallow, the only thing that would make you feel better about this. Knowing that you were special. 

Your eager hands move along his shoulders, past his neck and through his dark hair as you yank his face back up to yours, reconnecting your lips in a feverish kiss. You can feel his smirk, stretching wide across his lips when you push your tongue inside his mouth, not bothering to care for the taste of smoke that still lingered there. Pleasantly surprised by your demanding ministrations, Beomgyu lets you pull his bottom lip between your teeth, groaning when you bite down. 

His expression is smug when you pull back for air, his fingers slipping beneath your panties to drag across your throbbing cunt. — Your cunt that had craved him almost as much as your restless mind. 

“Why haven’t you texted me?” Your voice is unstable and threatens to betray you when he pushes two fingers inside of you, almost immediately curling them as he makes your back arch off the wall. Beomgyu’s lips return to your neck as he kisses his way to the shell of your ears. “Don’t be greedy, dollface”, he murmurs as he sucks your lobe into his mouth, rolling the silver of your earring against his tongue. “You already have so much.” 

But it wasn’t enough. 

You frown, wanting to object but quickly losing all your composure when the tip of his cock prods against your aching cunt. Your head hits the brick behind you as Beomgyu eases himself inside of you, a muffled groan passing his lips. — With an anxious gulp you glance toward the door, eyeing it nervously. 

Setting a quick and rough pace, Beomgyu’s fingers clasp around your face, digging into your cheeks as he shifts your attention back to him. “If they see, they see”, he grunts as his hips snap against yours. Meekly nodding, your hands fall back onto his shoulders as your moans fill the empty alleway. Even if no one saw you, they were bound to hear you. For some reason that thought thrilled you more than you ever imagined it would. 

The thought of everyone knowing what he was doing to you. That he was doing it to you and no one else. Only you. 

You knew that your attachment to him was becoming increasingly worrying. You should have probably distanced yourself a long time ago. Because you knew that this wasn’t just about the sex for you. Everything about Beomgyu drew you in. He was intoxicating, almost like a drug. That’s what made him so difficult to leave. Once you tried him, everything else seemed bland. Most of all, you could never seem to get enough of him, for he always left you craving more. 

And you would do anything to get him. 

Even now, as you smell the perfume of that woman all over him, you still crave him. All you can think about is him, all you can breathe is him and all you need is him. 

“Have you fucked her?” The question slips before you can stop it. Your nails claw at his shoulders, pulling a strained groan from him. You didn’t care if he had, not anymore. All that mattered was the fact that he was here with you right now. You desperately told yourself that his answer wouldn’t matter, that you could take it. 

“No.” 

Wait, he didn’t? Your jaw falls open, completely ignorant of the fact that his cock was still buried deep inside of you as your mind spiraled. A smug feeling bloomed within your chest, and it should have been a worrying one, but you could only relish in the fact that he had chosen you over her. He’d chosen you over all of them. You were special, right? 

When he finishes inside of you is when you’re certain that you are. You moan at the feeling of being filled to the brim with everything that was Beomgyu; letting him shove his fingers inside your sore cunt as he pushes his cum back inside, mixing it with your own orgasm before he brings his drenched fingers to your face. 

Your lips part as he smears the mess all over them, glancing up at him with a dazed and almost blissful expression. — “You really are a doll, aren’t you?” He murmurs as he watches your tongue dart out ti swipe across your wet lips, a small groan being pulled from his throat. 

If spending almost two weeks desperately longing for him was what it would take for something like this to happen, you would do it all over again, for as many times as you would have to. Because that’s what addiction was like. And oh how you were addicted to Choi Beomgyu.

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[illusioncanthurtme--art]

Hi! Even though you must receive such compliments often, I have to say that your Billford art is very unique and incredible! :D Your Bill is so cartoonish yet quirky; I can't express enough how much I like him and Ford (and any other GF character from you, but them especially) in your style. Overall, your traditional style drawing suits them just right !

Anyway, since you posted your last comic, I have been wondering how Bill would look like and behave when furious or triggered in your style :0. I like seeing him cheerful and excited with Ford, but I can't help but think what conversation they might have when Ford finds out about Bill and confronts him about it.

Do you plan to draw more comics/pics with angsty BillFord? Their relationship during/after their falling out?👀👀

Ohh man, thank you! That is so kind of you! I'm really glad you like my drawings of them :D💕

That's a really good question! I think the silly, ridiculous, stupid part of their relationship is what gets me the most, and that's what I like to draw. I mean, if you're on the patreon seeing the more suggestive stuff, even the way I depict THAT is really dumb. But Billford really does have it all, and there's a LOT of angst + scary stuff happening too. I do think about it, but it's not anything I get super motivated to draw.

When I DO think about drawing conflict between them, usually it's still in a humorous light. It's just the sort of thing that makes me happy. The sillystupid stuff.

I have thought about drawing bill with a very specific expression - one where he's VERY VERY furious. I'm envisioning some sort of equivalent to him "biting" his lower "lip" but it's a row of teeth pressing into the underside of his eyeball. Here's some doodles I did a month or two ago. I still haven't made any drawings of this expression that I'm satisfied with, I think it should be more exaggerated and lip-like... somehow.

It needs work. I want it to be like... spongebob freeze frame level of weird. But I was thinking this is how he'd react if he stumbled into one of Fiddlefords Fantasizing About Ford dreams. That's something I've been thinking about drawing for a while, but haven't yet.

Anyway, I hope this answered your question ok?? Thank you for taking the time to type such a lovely ask!

[xhoess]

Midnight Melodies

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader

Warnings: Strong languag, Sexual content, Emotional tension, Intimate/romantic scenes, Fluff and angst, Mentions of uncertainty in relationships, Explicit content.

Wc: 10,3 K

Masterlist

If there was one thing everyone at Eden Academy could agree on, it was that Kim Hongjoong was perfect.

Student council president. Straight A’s. Teachers loved him, students respected him, and somehow, he made wearing a uniform look effortless. If someone needed help, Hongjoong was the first to offer. If there was an issue, he fixed it before anyone else even noticed.

You, on the other hand, were a little more… invisible. Not a bad student, not a standout. Just another face in the music club, trying to keep things afloat.

Which is why you were standing outside the student council room, gripping the petition for your club’s funding like a lifeline. This is fine, you told yourself. Just go in, ask him for help, and leave.

Taking a breath, you knocked.

"Come in,” a voice called.

The room was pristine, every file and folder stacked with precise care. And there, at the center of it all, was him.

Hongjoong sat behind his desk, a black pen twirling between his fingers. His eyes lifted when you entered, scanning you in that unreadable way that made people nervous.

“Ah,” he said, setting his pen down. “You’re from the music club, right?”

You nodded, suddenly feeling too aware of yourself. “Yeah. I—uh—wanted to talk about the budget cuts. We’re supposed to compete next month, but without funding, we can’t afford equipment or travel costs.” You placed the petition on his desk. “We got over a hundred signatures. I was hoping you could—”

Hongjoong sighed, rubbing his temples like he already knew where this was going.

"The school board’s been strict this year,” he said. “They want to prioritize ‘academic-focused’ programs.”

Your stomach dropped. “So, what? We just get pushed aside?”

He gave you a look. Not unkind, but unreadable. “I’ll bring it up at the next meeting. But I can’t promise anything.”

You stared at him, frustration bubbling in your chest. “You’re the president. If anyone can convince them, it’s you.”

For the first time, Hongjoong hesitated. His fingers tapped against the desk, his gaze flickering—just for a second—before settling back into his usual cool expression.

“I’ll try.”

The words felt like a deflection. Something was off about his tone, but before you could question it, he stood, effectively ending the conversation.

“Was there anything else?”

You clenched your jaw. “No. Thanks for your time, President Kim.”

Turning on your heel, you left, irritation simmering under your skin.

Why did it feel like he already knew the answer before you even walked in?

The school was quiet, unnervingly so. The usual bustle of students, the sounds of lockers slamming and chatter filling the hallways—gone. Only the steady ticking of the clock seemed to echo in the silence.

You had no intention of staying this late. The last few hours had been a blur of rewriting your club’s proposal, attempting to salvage any chance of getting the funding you desperately needed. But time had slipped away, and now it was far past curfew.

10:42 PM flashed on your phone screen as you stuffed your papers into your bag and slung it over your shoulder. You hurried down the hallway toward the nearest exit, hoping the janitors hadn’t locked the gates yet.

Just as you reached the door, though, a sound stopped you cold.

Music.

At first, you thought it was an illusion. Maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, longing for some background noise after so much silence. But then the beat hit again—deep, pulsing, relentless. It wasn’t the usual classical stuff the school played during assemblies, nor was it anything you’d heard during practice with the club. This was… different.

Intrigued and a bit confused, you turned toward the source. The sound was coming from an old classroom at the end of the hallway, one that had long since been abandoned for more modern spaces. The door was slightly ajar, a thin strip of light spilling into the darkness of the hallway.

You hesitated, your heart starting to race. The music sounded raw, emotional—real.

As you quietly approached the door, you peered through the crack, eyes widening at what you saw.

There, sitting at an old desk cluttered with various music equipment, was Kim Hongjoong.

But not the Hongjoong you knew—the student council president who always kept his uniform crisp, his hair perfectly styled, his demeanor immaculate.

No, this Hongjoong was lost in the music, head tilted down as his fingers flew over a laptop’s touchpad. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing lean forearms. His tie was loosened, hanging sloppily around his neck. The usual sharpness in his eyes was softened by the dim glow of the screen, his expression focused, intense.

This wasn’t the perfect student—this was a person completely immersed in his art.

The music swelled, the bass pounding in your chest, and you could feel the energy in the room—a deep, throbbing force that seemed to pulse through the very walls. It was raw and unfiltered, the kind of sound that felt more like a confession than a performance. It wasn’t the kind of music that would be welcomed at Eden Academy’s polished events.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Hongjoong wasn’t just studying. He was creating something—something entirely different, something he had been hiding from everyone.

A sudden, loud beat made you flinch, your foot shifting on the floor with an audible creak.

He heard you.

Hongjoong’s head snapped up, eyes locking with yours in an instant. For a split second, there was only silence—the thrum of the music fading as he froze, his gaze sharp but not quite as controlled as usual.

You both stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, and then the music abruptly stopped, replaced by a tense stillness that filled the room.

“…What are you doing here?” His voice was low, more gravelly than you expected, his usual confident tone softened by something that felt closer to a mix of frustration and surprise.

Your heart was still pounding, but you stepped into the room, a challenge rising in your chest. "I could ask you the same thing."

Hongjoong ran a hand through his hair, clearly rattled. “You shouldn’t be here,” he muttered, standing up and pushing his chair back. “I didn’t mean for anyone to find out.”

You looked at the screen of his laptop, where the remnants of the music project remained, the waveform still visible. "This isn’t school-approved music, is it?"

Hongjoong was quiet for a long moment, his hands resting on the edge of the desk as if he didn’t know whether to shut the laptop or leave it exposed.

Finally, he sighed, rubbing his temples. "No. It’s not."

You tilted your head, stepping closer to him. “Why? Why are you hiding this?"

The edge in his voice softened slightly, but his eyes remained guarded. “Because if they find out, it’s over. This isn’t what they want. I’m supposed to be the model student, the ‘perfect president,’ the one who plays by the rules.” He shook his head, almost as if he was frustrated with himself. “But I’m not. I don’t fit the image they want me to have.”

Your brow furrowed. “You love this, don’t you?”

Hongjoong’s gaze flickered, and for the first time in this conversation, he looked vulnerable. “Yeah,” he said quietly, almost under his breath. “I do.”

He glanced at the desk, avoiding your eyes. You could see the conflict in the way his hands gripped the edge of the table—like he was torn between two worlds.

“You don’t have to hide it, Hongjoong,” you said softly, your voice almost a whisper. “Why don’t you just fight for it? You’re the student council president. You can make a change. You can—”

He cut you off, his voice rough. “It’s not that simple. You don’t understand.”

You took a step closer, and for a moment, the distance between you two felt like miles—emotional miles. You had never seen him like this before, so raw, so... real.

The tension in the room thickened, and your pulse quickened as Hongjoong’s gaze drifted to your lips. You weren’t sure if it was your imagination, but for a brief second, it felt like the world had shifted. Like the perfect, untouchable student president had become... something else entirely.

“Then explain it to me,” you whispered, your voice shaking slightly, a mix of curiosity and something else.

His lips parted, and for a moment, it seemed like he was going to say something—something that might have changed everything. But instead, he swallowed, his jaw tightening.

“Some things… you just can’t explain,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. His hand, almost of its own volition, reached out, brushing against your wrist. The contact was electric.

Your breath caught in your throat as he stepped back, avoiding your eyes. He was pushing you away, but not quite in the way you expected.

“Go home, before someone catches you here,” he said, his tone colder now, but still laced with that underlying tension.

You stood still for a moment, processing everything—the music, his confession, the way his hand had lingered on yours.

Before you could speak, he was already turning back to his laptop, shutting the lid with finality.

“Go.”

You wanted to say something. You wanted to argue, to demand more answers, but instead, you simply nodded, leaving the room with the weight of his secret pressing down on your chest.

Kim Hongjoong wasn’t who you thought he was.

And suddenly, you weren’t sure where this path was taking you anymore.

The days following that night were frustrating, to say the least.

You had seen him—the real Hongjoong, not the perfectly polished student council president. You had heard his music, felt the weight of his emotions in every note. And yet, when you saw him at school, he acted like nothing had happened.

In the hallways, he walked past you without a second glance. In class meetings, he spoke with the same cool authority, as if he hadn’t confessed something deeply personal just a few nights ago.

And it pissed you off.

Because now that you had seen that version of him, you couldn’t unsee it. Now that you had felt that tension crackle in the air between you, you couldn’t pretend it didn’t exist.

So, on Friday night, when you found yourself standing in front of the abandoned classroom again, it wasn’t hesitation you felt. It was determination.

This time, you weren’t going to let him push you away.

You pushed the door open without knocking.

The music was already playing.

And there he was—exactly where you expected him to be.

Hongjoong sat hunched over his laptop, the dim glow of the screen casting a soft light on his face. He was dressed more casually tonight. His blazer was draped over the back of his chair, his white dress shirt slightly wrinkled, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His tie was gone, and the top few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a glimpse of collarbone.

He looked comfortable.

He looked like himself.

But when the door clicked shut behind you, he didn’t look up.

“You’re back,” he murmured, fingers adjusting a sound level on his mixer.

“I had questions,” you said, stepping forward. “But you ignored me all day.”

A hint of amusement flickered across his face, but he still didn’t look at you. “I wasn’t ignoring you.”

“Oh, really?” You folded your arms. “So you just happened to walk past me five times today without seeing me?”

Now, he smirked. Smirked.

“Maybe,” he said.

The smugness in his voice made something snap in you.

“Fine,” you said. “If that’s how you want to play it.”

Before he could respond, you marched across the room and closed his laptop.

The music stopped abruptly.

Hongjoong froze, his fingers still hovering over the keyboard. Then, slowly, he looked up at you.

And that was when the tension shifted.

Because now, his eyes weren’t distant. They weren’t indifferent.

They were burning.

“Careful,” he murmured, his voice lower now. “You don’t know what you’re messing with.”

You met his gaze, refusing to back down. “Then explain it to me.”

A heavy silence stretched between you. The only sound in the room was the soft buzz of the equipment and the faint hum of the air conditioning.

Then, Hongjoong did something you didn’t expect.

He sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and then tugged you down into the chair beside him.

You yelped slightly as your knees brushed against his, your shoulder bumping his arm. The proximity sent a sharp jolt of awareness through your body.

Hongjoong leaned in, voice quieter now. “You really want to know?”

You nodded, trying not to focus on how warm he was next to you, how his scent—a mix of cologne, coffee, and something distinctly him—wrapped around you like an unintentional trap.

He reached for his laptop, flipping it back open.

“Then listen.”

The music started again, softer this time, as if he had adjusted it just for you.

You sat there, side by side, listening to the melody pour from the speakers. The beat was slower, deeper—less controlled, more raw. It wasn’t polished like the music you were used to hearing in school competitions.

It was honest.

As the song played, you found yourself leaning closer, drawn into the way Hongjoong’s fingers moved so effortlessly over the controls. The way he adjusted the sound with care, like each note meant something to him.

“You made this?” you asked softly.

He nodded, his expression unreadable. “Yeah.”

“It’s…” You struggled to find the right words. “It feels personal.”

Hongjoong exhaled a quiet laugh. “That’s because it is.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

This wasn’t just music to him. It wasn’t just a hobby. It was something deeper—something he didn’t show to just anyone.

Your eyes flickered to his hands, the way his fingers traced over the laptop’s trackpad. He had artist’s hands—quick, precise, confident. Without thinking, you reached out, letting your fingertips ghost over the back of his hand.

Hongjoong stilled.

The air in the room shifted.

His eyes flickered up to yours, something dark and unreadable swirling behind them. He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t move either.

“You’re not scared of getting caught, are you?” you murmured.

His lips parted slightly. His gaze dipped—to your lips, just for a second—before flickering back up.

“Not scared,” he said. “Just… aware.”

Your fingers were still touching his. Not a full hold, just the faintest brush of contact. But it was enough. Enough to send a pulse of heat through your veins, enough to make the space between you feel smaller than it was.

Something had shifted.

Something had changed.

You weren’t sure who moved first—him or you—but the next thing you knew, you were leaning closer, your breaths mingling in the space between you. The tension was thick, electric, alive.

Then, just as quickly as it happened, Hongjoong pulled back.

The loss of warmth was immediate.

You blinked, slightly dazed. “Hongjoong—”

“You should go,” he murmured, voice quieter now.

He wasn’t pushing you away out of anger.

He was pushing you away because he was scared of something.

You could see it in his eyes—the hesitation, the restraint. Like he had already let you get too close.

Like he knew that if he let you stay, something would happen that he wouldn’t be able to take back.

You swallowed hard, your chest tightening. “Why do you do that?”

His gaze flickered to yours. “Do what?”

“Push people away when they start to care.”

His jaw clenched. He looked like he wanted to answer—but he didn’t. Instead, he exhaled and turned back to his laptop.

“You should go,” he repeated, softer this time.

You hesitated.

Then, slowly, you rose from your seat.

But before you left, you leaned in—just enough for him to hear you—and whispered:

“You can keep pushing, Hongjoong. But I’m not going anywhere.”

Then, without waiting for a response, you walked out.

The moment you stepped out of the classroom that night, you knew this wasn’t over.

Hongjoong could push you away all he wanted, but something had shifted between you two. The tension, the glances, the way his fingers had lingered against yours—it was all leading somewhere.

And you weren’t going to be the one to turn away first.

---

The next week was different.

Hongjoong still played his role perfectly—the student council president, the model student, the untouchable leader. But you noticed things now.

The way his eyes subtly searched for you in the cafeteria. The way he tensed whenever you walked into a room, like he was hyper-aware of your presence. The way he hesitated before speaking whenever you were near.

He was unraveling.

And you wanted to see just how far he’d let himself go.

---

Friday night.

You didn’t even hesitate this time.

When you walked into the abandoned classroom, you found Hongjoong exactly where you expected him—but he wasn’t alone.

A small group of students was gathered around him, headphones slung around their necks, deep in conversation about something on his laptop. The energy in the room was different from before—louder, more alive.

You hovered near the door, watching.

Hongjoong was in his element. His hands moved as he spoke, his voice animated as he explained something on the screen. His sleeves were pushed up, his tie once again missing.

This version of him—the one who was passionate, focused, completely unguarded—was dangerously attractive.

And then he saw you.

His voice faltered for just a second. His hands stilled. The others didn’t seem to notice, but you did.

You smirked. Gotcha.

“Yo, we should probably bounce before curfew,” one of the students said, stretching. “You coming, Hongjoong?”

He hesitated. His eyes flickered to you for the briefest second.

Then, he shook his head. “I’ll stay a little longer.”

Interesting.

The others packed up and left, their laughter fading down the hallway. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving the two of you alone.

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, watching you. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

You shrugged, stepping closer. “Nope.”

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. “You should.”

“Should I?” You tilted your head, your voice quieter now. Daring.

His eyes darkened slightly. He didn’t answer.

Instead, he pressed a button on his laptop, and the music started playing.

Not the kind of polished, rehearsed music the school expected of him.

This was different.

It was slower, deeper—seductive.

A heavy beat thumped through the speakers, vibrating through your skin. The bass was thick, pulsing like a heartbeat. The melody slithered through the air, wrapping around you, pulling you in.

Hongjoong watched you, his fingers tapping against the desk in rhythm with the beat.

You took a step closer. Then another.

And then you did something bold.

You reached out and tugged his headphones off his neck.

He froze.

Your fingers brushed against the skin just below his jaw, and you felt him tense.

The air between you shifted.

The music pounded, drowning out the silence.

Hongjoong’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, his breath unsteady. His eyes flickered from your hand to your lips—just for a second—before he exhaled sharply and turned away.

“Careful,” he murmured, voice rough.

You smirked, tilting your head. “Or what?”

His jaw tightened. He stood up so suddenly that your heart jumped.

And then he was right in front of you.

Closer than he had ever been.

His scent—clean, musky, with the faintest trace of cologne—wrapped around you, and your breath hitched.

“Or you might not like what happens next,” he murmured, his voice low, dangerous, promising.

Your heart pounded.

Your fingers were still wrapped around the headphones, your knuckles barely brushing his chest.

Neither of you moved.

Neither of you backed away.

And then—he did it.

He broke first.

One of his hands lifted, his fingers grazing the side of your face—slow, deliberate.

You inhaled sharply, your lips parting slightly at the unexpected touch. His fingertips were warm against your skin, his touch feather-light, almost hesitant.

But his eyes?

There was nothing hesitant about them.

They were dark. Intense. Focused entirely on you.

“I should stop,” he murmured.

But he didn’t.

Instead, his fingers traced down, barely skimming along your jaw, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

Your pulse roared.

“You should,” you whispered.

But neither of you moved.

The music thrummed through the air, each beat thick with something unnamed, something dangerous.

Then—his thumb brushed the corner of your mouth.

A barely-there touch. A test. A warning.

Your breath hitched.

His gaze flickered to your lips again.

For a second, you thought he was going to do it.

You thought he was going to close the distance, finally let this fire consume you both.

But then—

A loud knock on the classroom door shattered the moment.

Hongjoong pulled back so fast it was like he had been burned.

The spell broke.

Your chest was heaving.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides.

The knock came again, sharper this time.

Hongjoong exhaled harshly, his jaw tight. “It’s locked,” he called out, his voice slightly hoarse. “Give me a second.”

Your heart was still racing.

Your skin still buzzed where he had touched you.

You met his gaze one last time—a silent conversation neither of you dared to finish.

Then, before he could stop you, you turned on your heel and walked out.

Leaving him breathless in the dim light of the music room, staring after you like he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

The tension was unbearable.

For days after that night, neither of you spoke about what had happened.

Not about the music. Not about the way his fingers had traced your jaw. Not about the way he had looked at you—like he wanted to do something reckless, something irreversible.

But silence didn’t mean nothing had changed.

Because it had.

It was in the way he watched you now—like he couldn’t help himself. It was in the way his breath hitched when you brushed past him in the hallways, in the way his fingers lingered just a second too long whenever he handed you something.

It was in the way he didn’t push you away anymore.

---

Friday night.

You weren’t sure if he would be there.

But the moment you stepped into the classroom, you found him—waiting.

Hongjoong was sitting at the desk, head bowed, fingers tapping idly against his laptop. His sleeves were rolled up, his tie discarded, his top buttons undone just enough to make your throat go dry.

The tension in the room was instant.

The door clicked shut behind you.

His fingers stilled.

Slowly, he looked up.

And that was when you knew—tonight would be different.

---

For a long moment, neither of you spoke.

The only sound in the room was the hum of his laptop, the quiet static of the speakers.

Then—

“You keep coming back,” he murmured.

You leaned against the desk beside him. “And you keep letting me.”

His jaw clenched. His hands curled into fists on his lap.

There it was again.

That barely contained tension. That dangerous edge of restraint.

Your heart pounded.

“You don’t get it,” he muttered, voice low. “This isn’t a good idea.”

You tilted your head. “Then why haven’t you told me to leave?”

His breath stilled.

He had no answer.

Because he didn’t want you to.

Something shifted.

You weren’t sure who moved first.

All you knew was that one second, there was distance—and then there wasn’t.

One of his hands lifted—hesitant, searching.

Then his fingers ghosted along your wrist, curling just slightly around your skin. A shiver ran through you at the warmth of his touch, at the deliberate slowness of it.

Hongjoong wasn't rushing.

He was savoring.

Like he knew this was the moment before everything changed.

Your breath hitched.

And then, finally—finally—he broke.

In one smooth motion, he pushed off the desk, closing the last bit of space between you.

You barely had time to react.

One hand slid up to cup the side of your face—gentle but firm. The other settled low on your waist, his fingers pressing into the fabric of your shirt, pulling you against him.

And then—

His lips crashed into yours.

It wasn’t soft.

It wasn’t hesitant.

It was desperate, consuming, weeks of pent-up tension unraveling all at once.

Your fingers curled into his shirt, clinging as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing flush against yours. He exhaled sharply against your lips, his grip tightening as if he was trying to memorize the way you felt.

Like he was afraid to let go.

The kiss was heat, urgency, unspoken emotions spilling over.

When you finally broke apart, you were breathless.

His forehead pressed against yours, his breathing ragged. His fingers were still tangled in your hair, his other hand still resting on your waist.

Instead, you whispered, “Do it again.”

His eyes met yours—dazed, unreadable.

And then, barely above a whisper—

“Tell me to stop.”

You swallowed, heart racing.

But you didn’t.

And just like that—the fire consumed you both.

"not here.." he Whispers.

He led you to the boy's dormitory wing, a place strictly off-limits to female students. The thrill of the forbidden made your steps quicken, your breath coming in short gasps. He opened the door to his room, ushering you inside.

"Hongjoong, are you sure about this?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled, closing the door behind you. "I wouldn't have brought you here if I wasn't. But we need to be quiet, okay? If the professors find out, I'll lose my whole reputation."

You nodded, a thrill of excitement coursing through you. The danger of it all was intoxicating.

He moved closer, his eyes locked onto yours. "You're beautiful, you know that?" he murmured, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

"Thank you," you whispered back, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.

He leaned in, his lips softly meeting yours. The kiss was gentle at first, a tender exploration that deepened as you both surrendered to the moment. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, and you parted them, allowing him entrance. His taste was sweet, like the coffee he must have had earlier.

squirm with pleasure. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with a primal hunger. "You like that, don't you?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

You nodded, your breath coming in short gasps. "Yes," you managed to whisper.

He stood up, his hands moving to your jeans. He unbuttoned them, his fingers brushing against your stomach as he pulled them down. He took his time, his eyes never leaving yours as he revealed your lacy panties. He hooked his fingers into the waistband, pulling them down slowly, his gaze locked onto yours.

licked you slowly, his tongue flat against your clit. You moaned, your hips bucking against his mouth. He chuckled, the vibration sending shivers through you.

He licked and sucked, his tongue exploring every inch of your pussy. He slipped a finger inside you, curling it to hit your G-spot. You cried out, your hands fisting the sheets. He added another finger, pumping them in and out while his tongue continued to work your clit.

You were close, your body tensing as the pleasure built. He sensed it, his fingers and tongue working in tandem to push you over the edge. You came with a cry, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over you.

He crawled back up your body, his cock hard and ready. He kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips. "You taste so fucking good," he murmured.

He positioned himself at your entrance, looking into your eyes. "Are you ready?" he asked, his voice husky with desire.

You nodded, your body still trembling from your orgasm. He pushed into you slowly, his cock stretching you as he filled you completely. You gasped, your nails digging into his back.

"You okay?" he asked, concern in his voice.

You nodded, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Yeah, I'm good. Just...take it slow."

He nodded, his hips moving in slow, deliberate thrusts. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a deep kiss as he moved in and out of you.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him to move faster. He obliged, his hips moving in quick, hard thrusts. You moaned with each one, your body eager for more.

He broke the kiss, his eyes locked onto yours. "You like that?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

You nodded, your breath coming in short gasps. "Yes, yes, I do."

He flipped you over, pulling you to your hands and knees. He entered you from behind, his hands gripping your hips. He pounded into you, his cock hitting your G-spot with each thrust. You cried out, your body pushed to the edge once again.

He reached around, his fingers finding your clit. He rubbed it in time with his thrusts, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You came with a scream, your body convulsing as your orgasm washed over you.

He followed soon after, his body tensing as he came inside you. He collapsed onto the bed, pulling you with him, his body spooning yours.

You lay there, your body sated and exhausted, his arms wrapped around you. You listened to the sound of his heartbeat, slowing as he caught his breath.

"That was...incredible," you murmured, your voice soft and content.

But unfortunately this great moment had to come to an end. After hongjoong made sure you where alright and cleaned up you had to leave.

Oh god you feel so phatetic leaving like this but there is no other options, they will check the dorms every evening

The walk back to your dorm was hell.

Every step felt heavier than the last, the distance between you and Hongjoong’s dorm growing with each footfall, yet the warmth of his touch, the taste of his kiss, lingered like an invisible weight pressing on you. Your pulse still throbbed in your ears, your body still buzzing from the intensity of what had just happened. The world outside seemed so distant, so disconnected from what had just unfolded behind closed doors.

You kept your head down, pretending that nothing had changed, trying to act normal, but you couldn’t escape the new reality that had just been carved into you. What had just happened?

His hands, his mouth, his scent—all of it was still imprinted on your skin, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was something much bigger than just a fleeting moment. It was dangerous—you both knew that.

But it had felt so right.

---

Once you crossed the threshold into your dorm, you felt the weight of the moment descend on you, that strange blend of guilt and excitement that came with sneaking around, with doing something you weren't supposed to. The door clicked shut softly behind you, but the silence that followed felt deafening. You had just done something you never imagined doing, and now, you were left alone with your thoughts.

Your roommate was already asleep, her light snores filling the otherwise quiet room. You sat down on your bed, staring at the ceiling. There was nothing to distract you, no escape from the overwhelming thoughts running through your head. You closed your eyes, and there he was again. Hongjoong, his body against yours, his hands, his lips, his voice murmuring your name.

It wasn’t just the physicality of it.

It was the connection. The chemistry. That undeniable pull that made you feel like you were being drawn into his orbit, over and over again.

But now, the silence that stretched between you two was almost suffocating. No texts, no calls, no awkward glances in the hallway. Had he regretted it? Or was this just part of his plan to keep you at arm’s length? You had no way of knowing.

You hated the uncertainty.

---

The Next Day

The day passed like a blur.

Classes felt like a distant memory as your thoughts kept drifting back to him, back to that night. But no matter how hard you tried to focus, you couldn’t stop thinking about his hands on your skin, his lips on yours.

You barely looked at him when you saw him between classes. His presence made your heart beat harder, faster, and you didn’t know how to handle it. Every time your eyes met his, you felt that pull again, that fire burning just beneath the surface. But he didn’t approach you, didn’t say a word.

He was avoiding you.

At least, that’s how it felt.

Maybe it was easier for him. Maybe he knew what to do next, while you were left in the haze of the aftermath. What were you supposed to do now?

You hated that you couldn’t read him. You hated how he could make you feel so… so alive, yet leave you completely in the dark about what was really happening between you two.

But the worst part?

The worst part was how much you wanted to see him again.

---

That Night

The campus was quiet, the lights from the hallway casting long shadows across the floor. The hours ticked by slowly. You couldn’t stand the silence, couldn’t stand the thought of him, of that night, lingering in your mind without any resolution. You needed answers.

So, you decided to go to him.

You slipped out of your dorm, careful not to wake anyone, and made your way through the empty halls, heart pounding in your chest. The music room was your destination. You knew it, like a second home, but tonight it felt different. Everything felt different.

You reached the door and found it slightly ajar, the soft sound of something being typed filling the space beyond. Your breath caught as you pushed the door open a little more. There he was—Hongjoong.

His back was to you, and he was sitting at the desk, headphones on, his fingers dancing across the keyboard. His posture was relaxed, but there was something tense in the air.

You stood there for a moment, just watching him. For all the confidence you had before, now, your body felt uncertain. Your nerves were running wild, and you didn’t know whether you wanted to yell at him for ignoring you or pull him toward you again.

But then he turned, his eyes meeting yours, and just like that, everything else faded away.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t move. The world seemed to stop for a moment as the two of you locked eyes.

Your heart thudded loudly in your chest. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

He exhaled sharply, removing his headphones slowly, like he was steeling himself for something. “I haven’t.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Don’t lie to me, Hongjoong.”

He flinched, his eyes flicking down to his hands for a moment before they came back up to meet yours. The wall he had been hiding behind was crumbling, and you could see the uncertainty in his expression.

He hesitated. “It’s not…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. He took a step toward you, but his voice was quieter this time. “It’s not that simple.”

You took a step closer, not giving him the chance to distance himself. “Then what is it?”

He sighed, his hands resting on the desk behind him, almost like he was holding himself back. “I don’t know what to do with this.”

Your stomach churned at his words. What was that supposed to mean? You weren’t the only one confused, but this wasn’t the time for him to retreat again. Not now.

“I don’t know either,” you whispered. “But running away from it won’t make it go away.”

His breath hitched, his gaze locking onto you with such intensity that it almost knocked the air from your lungs. He was standing so close now, his body tense with restraint. “I can’t just ignore it. I can’t just… forget what happened.”

Your heart pounded in your ears. You had been afraid of the same thing. What if this had been a mistake? What if he regretted it? But when his eyes softened slightly, when he took that step closer—you knew it wasn’t.

You reached out, gently taking his hand in yours. “Then don’t. Don’t forget. Let’s figure this out together.”

His hand tightened around yours, and for a moment, it felt like he was holding onto you for dear life. He pulled you closer until you were standing right in front of him. His breath was warm against your skin, his lips barely brushing your forehead as he spoke.

“Do you even know what you’re asking?” His voice was hoarse, as though the weight of it all was pressing down on him.

You nodded, your fingers brushing his jawline, urging him to look at you. “I know exactly what I’m asking.”

His hands slid up your arms, cupping your face gently as he tilted your head up. “You make this harder than it needs to be,” he muttered, but his lips were already on yours before he could finish the thought.

It was slow at first, hesitant—as if both of you were testing the waters once more. But it didn’t take long for the kiss to deepen, to turn desperate, as the same need, the same fire from the night before reignited between you.

Hongjoong’s hands moved to your waist, pulling you flush against him, the heat of his body overwhelming. His lips moved from yours to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “I don’t know how to stop this,” he whispered.

“I don’t want you to stop,” you replied.

His hands slid beneath your shirt, his touch sending sparks through your body. Everything about him, everything about this moment felt inevitable—like you had been waiting for it, unknowingly, all along.

And when his lips found yours again, there was no hesitation. No questions. Just the overwhelming need to be close, to be more than just two bodies in a room. To be something real.

---

The night unfolded again, just like it had before—intense, electric, and full of emotions that you hadn’t known you were capable of feeling. But this time, it was different. There was no fear of the unknown anymore. There was only the certainty of the connection between you two. The understanding that this wasn’t a one-time thing.

And as the hours wore on, you found yourself in the same place again—lost in him.

When it ended, both of you were breathless, tangled in each other, yet something had shifted. There were still questions, still doubts, but for the first time in a long time, you were willing to face them.

---

The days that followed that night were a whirlwind of confusion and longing, neither of you knowing exactly how to navigate the space you’d created between yourselves. After that kiss, after everything that happened, the silence was the loudest thing in the room.

You saw him in passing, in the hallways, sometimes in classes, but each time you caught his gaze, it felt like there was something unspoken between you two. You wanted to reach out, to say something, but every time your thoughts started to gather into words, they fell apart in your chest. You were stuck in this space, hovering somewhere between wanting to pull away for the sake of your own sanity—and desperately needing to know what Hongjoong was thinking.

But as each day passed, you couldn’t keep pretending that things were normal.

You needed answers.

You needed to hear it from him. Again.

---

It was another late evening when you decided you couldn’t keep walking around in the fog of uncertainty. Hongjoong’s dorm room door was slightly ajar, and you could hear faint music playing inside—probably a track he was working on. The sight of it was enough to make your heart skip a beat.

You stood outside for a long moment, your breath catching as you tried to gather the courage to knock. You couldn’t avoid it anymore. No more games. No more pretending like everything was fine. You needed to hear it from him, needed to know whether what had happened between you two was real, or if you’d both just gotten caught up in the moment.

With a deep breath, you knocked.

The door creaked open, revealing Hongjoong, looking slightly startled to see you standing there. His hair was disheveled, his eyes still holding the remnants of the exhaustion that came from hours of working. But when he saw you, his expression softened.

“Hey,” he greeted you, his voice low and tentative.

You swallowed, feeling your pulse quicken. “We need to talk,” you said, and it felt like every word you spoke was dripping with the weight of everything that had happened between you two.

Hongjoong hesitated for a moment, glancing behind him toward his desk, but he stepped back, gesturing for you to come inside. You did, your eyes scanning the room quickly, but all you could focus on was him.

You stood in front of him, the silence stretching between you two. The tension felt thicker than ever. Finally, Hongjoong spoke, breaking the quiet. “What’s going on? What do you want to talk about?”

You didn’t want to dance around it anymore. You couldn’t.

“I want to know what we’re doing here, Hongjoong,” you said, your voice shaking slightly, but the words were out before you could second guess them. “After everything... after last night—why are we pretending like nothing happened? Why are you using me?”

His face softened, but you could see the inner conflict in his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “It’s not that I’m using you... I just—I don’t know how to handle this. I don’t know what to do with how I feel. It’s not that simple, you know?”

You nodded, taking a step closer to him. “I get that. I’m confused, too. But I can’t keep pretending that nothing’s different. That night meant something. I don’t know what exactly, but it wasn’t just some random moment.”

Hongjoong’s expression softened even more, and he took a deep breath. “It wasn’t just some random moment for me either,” he confessed, his voice quiet but firm. “I’ve been trying to figure it out—what this is between us. But I guess I was scared. Scared that if I admitted how I feel, things would get messed up... But I can’t stop thinking about you. And I don’t want to keep pretending like I don’t.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. For the first time, there were no walls between you. No ambiguity, no confusion—just raw honesty.

“Hongjoong…” You felt a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, and you couldn’t hold back anymore. “I don’t want to pretend either.”

His eyes softened as he stepped closer to you, his hand reaching up to gently touch your cheek. “So, you feel the same way?” he asked, his voice low, almost as if he was afraid to hear the answer.

You nodded, feeling your heart race as you looked up at him. “Yeah. I feel the same way.”

A sigh of relief escaped Hongjoong, and before you knew it, he was leaning in, his lips brushing against yours in a slow, tender kiss. This time, it wasn’t filled with the frenzy of desire—it was filled with something softer, something more intimate, as if you were both acknowledging that you had just crossed a threshold.

When he pulled back, he didn’t let go of you. His forehead rested against yours, and there was a gentle smile on his lips. “So... you’re saying this is real? That we’re doing this?”

You laughed softly, the sound a mix of relief and joy. “Yeah, I think we are.”

---

EPILOGE

From that moment on, the change between you two was undeniable. The space you’d once kept between each other had melted away, replaced by an easy, comfortable closeness. Hongjoong wasn’t avoiding you anymore. In fact, he was more present than ever, his attention focused on you every chance he got.

It wasn’t all perfect—nothing ever is. But now that you knew where you both stood, it was easier to navigate the growing feelings between you two. There was no more guessing. There was no more distance. You were together, and the unspoken weight had been lifted.

You spent more time in his dorm after classes, enjoying the quiet moments where you could simply be with each other, no pretenses, no expectations. And every time he touched you, kissed you, or simply smiled at you, your heart swelled with something you couldn’t quite name—but you knew it was something that felt right.

No more doubts. No more hiding. You were both committed to whatever came next.

The First Date

A week later, Hongjoong invited you to a small cafe downtown, away from the prying eyes of the campus. It wasn’t flashy, but it was perfect. Just the two of you, sipping coffee, talking about everything and nothing, laughing freely without the weight of fear or uncertainty hanging over you.

There, in that cozy corner, he reached for your hand across the table, his fingers brushing yours with a softness that made your heart skip.

“This is nice,” Hongjoong said, his voice full of contentment as he looked at you, his eyes filled with affection. “I don’t want to rush anything, but I want to make this work. With you.”

You squeezed his hand, a smile tugging at your lips. “I want that, too.”

And in that moment, you both knew that this—this was just the beginning.

_____________________

Taglist: @oceanside-view97 @hwa-stars @hoe4yunho @hohongjoong

[yeoningz]

CAUGHT BETWEEN THE PAGES ⋆˚࿔ 최수빈

your professor catches you reading a not-so-safe-for-school book in the middle of his class. in an effort to make things better, you fear that you may have just made them worse.

⧼ 📖 ⧽ 一 pairing ⸝⸝⸝ professor!choi soobin ✗ student!fem!reader includes ⚬ ⚬ ⚬ beomgyu and yeonjun of tomorrow x together, dino of seventeen, giselle and karina of aespa

genre ⚬ ⚬ ⚬ smut, fluff, porn with plot, comedy

warnings ⸝⸝⸝ teacher/student, age gaps, power play, light dom/sub dynamics, switch! to soft dom!soobin, masterbation (f. rec), erotic literature, explicit language and sexual content, spanking, cumming in pants, dirty talk, pet names, praise kink, name calling (slut), wet dreams, impact play, oral (m. rec), facefucking, deepthroat, big dick soobin, doggy style, sex on furniture, unprotected sex, creampies, talk of contraception (reader is on birth control), alcohol mentions, drinking and partying, hair pulling, size kink word count. 12. 2 k | ⧼ 📜⊹₊ ⧽ 一 to library.

[notes.] a rewrite of my first ever fic on tumblr, study night! this is a romanticization of student/teacher relationships where both parties are consenting adults, but it is important to note that these relationships can be problematic in real life due to one parties authority over another's and unstable power dynamics. thank you to @jellymochii, @biteyoubiteme and @beomiracles for proofreading! reblogs and feedback are very appreciated <3 i hope you enjoy!

YOUR LINGUISTICS PROFESSOR embodies everything you find detestable in a teacher. His classes are a monotonous drone of information, devoid of anything exciting or engaging, though that might not be entirely his fault with how boring the subject he teaches is. He rarely deviates from whatever script he had thrown together— no doubt just the night before, from the way he rambles and stutters— and he absolutely refuses to entertain any questions or foster any interesting discussion. He never accepted late assignments or gave any extensions, his tests are ridiculously hard, and he’ll dock points off your assignments for the tiniest, stupidest reasons. Sure, it’s a difficult course, and it’s important to your major, but you swear he seems to take some kind of pleasure in making his students miserable. Each class feels like an eternity, and often you find yourself counting down the minutes until you can escape the insufferable, suffocating atmosphere of his classroom.

Yet, for some strange, inexplicable reason, you find yourself absolutely obsessed with him.

Maybe it was because you spent your time in his class focusing more on him than any of the words that came out of his mouth. His irritatingly handsome, angular face and his pouty, kissable lips, how he turns red and gapes like a fish out of water when he’s talking himself into a corner or is asked a question he doesn’t know how to answer. His big veiny hands and how they look when he waves them around animatedly, filling your head with thoughts of how they would look caressing your body. His tall, fit body and how he towers over you whenever you come up to him, the way he has to lower his head to look you in the eye, a soldering heat bubbling in your belly from the way he makes you feel so small. The way he loves to pepper his lectures with painfully unfunny dad jokes, and the way he gets all blushy when no one laughs. It makes you cringe, but in some odd way you also find it incredibly endearing. Sometimes you even catch yourself giggling quietly, stupid and u lovesick puppy. You can’t stand to be his student, but you dream at night about being something else to him entirely— it’s a paradox that drives you to detrimental distraction. How can you be so obsessed with someone you loathe? His perplexing combination of qualities was like some kind of mystery you felt compelled to unravel, at the very least to put your own mind at ease.

That was when you found the novel. It was hidden in the romance section of your favorite used bookstore, squished between two old technicolor cover harlequin novels, it’s dark and simple spine juxtaposing against all the bright colors and ornate fonts. It intrigued you enough to pull it from the shelf and look it over, your cheeks heating up as you take in its cover. A headless, well-dressed man sat in a chair with his legs spread invitingly, the smart suit he was wearing disheveled and his undone belt held tightly in his hand, the leather strap resting against his inner thigh. The title Lessons in Attraction was printed where his head would be, vague but provocative enough to make your stomach flip. The man immediately reminded you of Professor Choi, from the way he was dressed to the prominent veins in his hands, and when you flip the book over to read the synopsis you understand the connection. It outlines the story of a steamy romance between a strict economics professor and his teaching assistant, an innocent, young virgin who wants nothing more than to please. It was as if the author had plucked your deepest fantasies straight from your head and printed them out on paper, then planted the book in the perfect spot for you specifically to discover. You knew just from skimming through the pages that reading it would only do you more harm than good, but you just couldn’t put it down, drawn to the story like an addict needing a fix. You hid it in your stack of textbooks, and you refused to look the cashier in the eye as they checked you out.

At first, you had intended to keep it hidden in your bedroom, only to be read late at night when your roommates were either out or asleep. But as your obsession with your professor continued to deepen, so did your obsession with the novel; soon you found yourself taking it with you everywhere you went, reading snippets whenever you had the chance and quickly shoving back into your bag anytime someone would walk by or glance over at you. Your dreams devolved into graphic, vivid replays of your favorite dirty scenes, with Professor Choi in the place of the professor from the story. You wake up hot and bothered every morning, and his class becomes even more difficult with your head now full of illicit, naughty fantasies. Everything he does makes your belly swirl with need, even something as simple as running a hand through his hair or adjusting his glasses— you can’t even bare to look at him, and instead try your hardest to focus on whatever boring tangent he was rambling on about… until you caught yourself fantasizing about how his deep voice would sound whispering dirty words in your ear.

You couldn’t take it anymore. Professor Choi’s lectures were beginning to feel more like sick torture— you needed something to keep you distracted before you went insane.

So, against your better judgement, you started to bring the novel to read in class. You sat far enough in the back that you were certain he wouldn’t notice, and your poor classmates were too bored out of their minds to look your way. It was easy to keep it hidden away tucked in your lap, so you could pretend to be writing in your notebook while you read. Something about it excited you, reading about fucking your professor with your real professor standing there in front of you, none the wiser. Being able to admire him as you indulged in your secret desires. If he caught you, you would be humiliated, but you would be lying if you said that the thought didn’t excite you a little too…

“Miss L/N, what are you doing?”

You nearly shoot straight out of your chair, your professor’s sudden call of your name shocking you out of your reverie. You had gotten so absorbed into your novel that you had forgotten to check to see if he was looking your way. “H-huh?”

“You keep looking at your lap.” Professor Choi remarks, peering up at you from his spot at the podium with an unamused frown. His thick-rimmed glasses made his pretty brown eyes appear even larger than they already were, blinking up at you like he was studying you through a magnifying glass. “You’re not on your phone, are you? You know I have a no-tolerance policy when it comes to electronics.” [GU1] 

“Oh! No, sir, I’m just…” your startled gaze bounces back to the book in your lap, and you swallow nervously. “Reading.”

“Reading?” Professor Choi echoes, raising his brow. “What are you reading? I assume it’s not the textbook, from the look on your face.”

You blanche, trying your hardest to appear nonchalant as you snap the book shut and shove it down into the recesses of your school bag. “It’s nothing!” You reply far too quickly, sounding guiltier than sin.

Professor Choi blinks, his magnified eyes raking over your sweating face before trailing down to your bag, clasped protectively in your lap.

“Give it to me.” he orders curtly, stretching out his hand.

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. “What?! W-why?!”

“Reading anything that isn’t the course material is against my class rules— I have it printed clearly on the syllabus, though with how you can never seem to pay attention I wouldn’t be surprised if you missed it when I went over it at the beginning of the semester. I would recommend looking over it again to see if there’s anything else you’ve forgotten. Now, get up and hand me that book.”

The entire class has turned to look at you now too, dozens of pairs of eyes fixated on your every move. The silence is absolutely deafening. Your heart races and your hands tremble as you squirm in your seat, trying desperately to come up with some sort of escape as if you were in a horror movie; you might as well be, because out of all the ghouls and monsters you can think of, this has to be your worst nightmare.

You consider refusing. Technically, Professor Choi couldn’t force you to do anything you didn’t want to— hell, you could walk right out of the classroom right then and there if you really wanted to, with both your book and your dignity intact. After all, you were a grown adult paying to further your education out of your own pocket. Trying to confiscate your belongings as if you were a child was borderline insulting.

But you can’t risk your grade over something like this, as embarrassing as it was, and you wouldn’t put it past him to penalize you in some way for defying your orders. You were already struggling as it was, partly because of how difficult the coursework was and mostly because of how you could never concentrate whenever Professor Choi was around. To make matters even worse, passing was a requirement for your degree. Getting even more on his bad side than you already were simply not an option.

It takes every ounce of energy you have to force yourself to stand up out of your seat and trudge down to Professor Choi’s podium, clutching your novel against your chest like you were clutching pearls. He has to pry it out of your hand with a considerable amount of force, because you can’t seem to loosen your fingers around the cover.

You scamper back to your seat, but not before turning back to see Professor Choi eye the cover with a startled expression. It would have been comical if you didn’t feel like you were seconds away from throwing up all over your desk.

He places it gingerly face-down on his desk like he was handling a dead fish, and you’re both grateful and horrified that he noticeably avoids making eye contact with you when he steps back up on his podium. “You can come by my office later to get it back, Miss L/N. I have a free period at six.”

“Yes, sir.” You answer glumly, staring at your shoes.

Luckily for you, he dismisses the class only a few minutes later, muttering about something to do with grading papers. You’ve never ran out of that lecture hall so fast in your life.

“Whoa, what’s up with you?” your friend Beomgyu asks when you walk by him in the hall, backpack and skateboard in hand without a care in the world. “You look live you’ve seen a ghost or something.”

You stop just long enough to realize that you were still running, even though you had made it nearly halfway across the building. “I’m so fucked.” You state simply.

“What? What happened? Did you do something to piss off Professor Choi again?”

“Yes. No. Kind of?” you cringe inwardly. There’s absolutely no way you’re telling Beomgyu about any of what happened; he’d laugh at you to the point you fear you might actually start crying. “I don’t want to talk about it. I gotta go.”

You shuffle away before he can respond, and while you feel bad ignoring him as he calls out to you in confusion, you’re focused solely on finding somewhere quiet and empty to hide out until your next class. And maybe grabbing an iced coffee or something. Just to drown out the tears as you wallow in your own misery.

Against all odds, you manage to make it through the rest of your classes. The wait was almost worse than getting caught, barely able to sit still in your seat as you panic inwardly for hours on end. If it was Professor Choi’s intention to psychologically torture you, he wildly succeeded.

And you’re absolutely sure it was, because the first thing you see once you step into his office is your professor lounging back in his chair reading your book.

“Professor!” you yelp.

Professor Choi glances up from your book, a mischievous glint shining in his eyes as he sends you a tight-lipped smile. “Oh, Miss Y/N! You’re just in time. I was just flipping through your book here, it seems awfully… interesting.”

You gulp, your trembling hands clutching the strap of your bag in a vain attempt to ground yourself. “Um, sir!” you squeak, rushing to his side to glance over his shoulder at what page he was on, praying to whatever god that will listen that he hasn’t read anything raunchy. “I think it would be best if you, um, didn’t read that…”

“Oh?” Soobin flips the page and quirks his brow, not even sparing you a second glance as he adjusts his glasses, “What do you mean?”

You rack your brain desperately for a good enough excuse, but you can’t think of anything other than just how mortified you were, watching helplessly as your professor’s keen eyes scan over the pages. “Can I have it back now?” you say instead, your voice small and shaking.

“Surely you can wait just a little longer— now I’m dying to know why you don’t want me to read this.” Professor Choi’s crooked, dimpled smirk infuriates you.

Was there any possible way that you could talk your way out of this without telling him upfront that what he was holding in his hands was an erotica, one about a teacher and a student no less? You shuffle nervously, stumbling over your words as you try to stutter out something, anything, “You, um… you wouldn’t like it.”

He turns his head to look up at you again, the look in his eye sharply changing when he takes in your frightened state, into something you don’t recognize and aren’t sure you like. “How can you be sure I wouldn’t enjoy it? I’m a fan of many different genres of literature, though I’ve never read anything quite like this before. Is it some sort of romance novel? If it is, you don’t have to be ashamed, Miss Y/N. I’m sure many young women such as yourself read these sorts of novels, though I strongly discourage reading them while I’m in the middle of a lecture. It’s simply disrespectful. Now, where was I?”

He trails his finger down the page as if he was looking for his place, and you bristle. “Sir, seriously, don’t—!”

“I followed my professor to his office, watching with bated breath as he rounded his big wooden desk.”  Professor Choi reads aloud. You barely stop yourself from screaming, instead letting out a sort of pained choking sound. “He stopped to stand behind me, looking down my shoulder as if he were looking over my essay just as I was. I had made three errors in my writing, each one circled in bright red ink. He seemed more upset about it than usual.”

“Professor, please.”

“’Put that essay on my desk.’ he said, so I did.” Professor Choi continues, ignoring you. He had gave the professor character a stupid, high pitched voice when he spoke, which would have been funny if you weren’t so humiliated. “’Now bend over with your elbows on my desk, so that you are looking directly at the essay. Keep your face very close.’”

“Stop it! Just let me have it!” You hated to talk to him this way, but if he continued reading any further… it took everything you had to keep yourself from running out of his office and crawling into the nearest ditch to die in.

“That’s not how you should speak to me, Miss Y/N. Now you certainly aren’t getting it back.” Professor Choi retorted, his evil little smirk growing even wider. You wanted to hit him, or kick or scream, but you couldn’t do anything except stand there and try your hardest not to cry. “I was puzzled, but I followed his instructions, bending over the top of his desk so that my chest, belly and arms were pressed against the hardwood. My nose was merely a centimeter or two away from the letter, which made it difficult to read. My skirt was starting to… to slide up the backs of my thighs, but I was sure that if I moved to tug it back down, I would just get into even more trouble.”

You grimace when Professor Choi’s voice broke, his smile slowly starting to slide off his face. But he did not stop reading. “’Now read the letter to yourself. Read it over and over again.’ My professor said. I read: “In today’s rapidly evolving global landscape, the integration of technology in…” and at the word “integration”, which I had misspelled, he— he… um… Oh.”

You began to feel less like wanting to die and more like you were actually dying. Professor Choi stared hard at the pages for a painfully long moment, his ears turning bright cherry red, but to your surprise and absolute mortification, he began to read aloud again. His voice had dropped that cheerful quality, however, sounding winded as if he had been hit upside the head. “At the word “integration”, which I had misspelled, he reeled his arm back and spanked me hard. I stopped reading with a loud gasp, shocked— the sting reverberated through my core, fiery hot, and despite my embarrassment I began to soak through my panties. At my silence, I was spanked again, even harder. ‘I said read it.’ My professor reminded me. ‘Be a good girl and follow instructions.’”

Professor Choi shut the book closed abruptly and looked up at you with a very red face and wide eyes. The tears that had been pooling in your lashes threatened to spill down your cheeks, so overcome with fear and embarrassment that your stomach turned like you were going to be sick. That was just what you needed to top off this already life-ruining experience, wasn’t it; vomiting all over your professor after he uncovers your darkest, dirtiest secret.

“This is extremely inappropriate material to bring on campus.” Professor Choi finally says, his voice wavering.

“Yes, sir.”

“And that relationship, it’s… wrong. It’s against the university’s code of conduct. I— he could get fired for that.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You shouldn’t be reading this. It’ll put... thoughts in your head that don’t need to be there.”

“…Yes, sir.” Part of you wants to argue with him, remind him that you’re an adult and can read whatever it is that you would like, but you don’t have the strength to.

He sighs heavily, like something important is weighing on his mind, and he hands you back your book before turning back to pour over the scattered, forgotten papers on his desk. “Go home, Miss L/N. And get rid of that book.”

You turn tail and scamper out into the hall, but you can’t help but glance back into Professor Choi’s office as you leave. He’s hunched over his desk with his elbows resting on the wood, his fingers tangled in his dark hair as he rests his head in his hands. It seems like something is bothering him, something bigger than grading papers or your stupid, silly book.

You don’t stick around to find out what it is.

The next morning, you receive a rather hastily written email from Professor Choi telling you that he’s cancelling classes for the rest of the week. He’s come down with a cold, he claims— you and the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach know better than to believe that.

You don’t see him until next Monday, but even then he might as well not have shown up at all. He struggles to get through his lesson plan even more than usual, and he wouldn’t look away from his papers or the projector, even when one of your classmates raised their hand to ask a question. You spent the entire period gathering up the courage to go up to him after his lecture, but when you do he brushes you off with a lame, half-baked excuse about having papers to grade and no time to talk, grabbing his things in a rush and scampering out of the lecture hall before you can call out for him to come back.

The pit in your stomach opens up into a black hole, swallowing up everything except for overwhelming, gnawing anxiety. It’s eating you up inside, manifesting itself in how you’ve chewed your lips until they bled, and then bit your nails down to the quicks— anyone with eyes could see that something was weighing on you, and you became increasingly tired of all your friends asking if anything was wrong, so once you were finished with your classes you took to hiding out in your dorm room curled up on the couch, your favorite fluffy blanket wrapped around you as you sullenly binge-watched a k-drama you’ve seen a thousand times.

While you were more of a homebody, your two roommates were much the opposite. Karina and Giselle loved to go out and party. Tonight was no different, the two of them flittering around the dorm as they got ready to go out to some club, and while they had given up on trying to get you to join them a while ago, something about the way you moped about seemed to reinvigorate Karina’s desire to get you off of your ass and out on the town. She knew you better than anybody, and immediately she could sniff out that something was off.

“Why don’t you come with us? You can borrow one of my dresses.” She offers, rummaging through her collection of high heels. “It’s a Friday night, everyone’s out! We can dance, we can find some boys to take home; it’ll be fun. You look like you need some.”

“I don’t need to have fun. I need to study.” You reply solemnly, scowling, but you make no moves to get up off the couch. It was a shitty excuse even to your own ears; it was obvious you didn’t have any plans to do anything tonight except feel sorry for yourself.

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” She huffs. You don’t even have to look at her to know that she’s rolling her eyes. “Something’s bothering you and you won’t even tell me or Gigi what’s wrong. Don’t you think a drink or two would be good for you? You can vent to us all night, too. I promise we’ll listen.”

“I don’t know if I even want to tell you about it.”

“Why not? We’re your best friends, Y/Nie. You can tell us anything, even if it’s stupid or embarrassing. If it’s bothering you this badly, it’s clearly something serious.”

You peer out from under the blanket to look over at Karina— the worry in her eyes makes your heart sink. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t even consider taking her or Giselle up on their offers, but the way you were stuck running circles inside your head was far from normal. “You promise not to laugh at me?” She smiles warmly. “Nope. But I promise I’ll hear you out regardless.”

The loud, thumping bass reverberating throughout the club did very little to help ease your pounding headache. Your temples throbbed with every beat, the pressure so severe it felt as if your skull was just moments away from splitting in two. You don’t think you’ve ever been this uncomfortable in your life; the dress that Karina gave to you was a size or two too small, the shiny fabric so tight around your chest that you gasp for air. It would be difficult for you to breathe even in properly fitting clothes, the air hot and heavy from the throngs of sweaty bodies that surrounded you. You felt claustrophobic, the crowd closing in on you and threatening to swallow you whole— the only place to escape was to the bar, but even there you’re bombarded with flashing lights, deafening music, and the overlapping voices of everyone around you. You have to strain your ears to make out what Giselle was saying, and she was just on the barstool right next to yours.

“Aren’t you glad you came?” She giggles, sipping on a brightly colored cocktail. She had ordered a round of them for all three of you, and the amount of alcohol mixed in them felt like a sucker punch to the face, even with all the sickeningly sweet grenadine the bartender had used to try and mask the flavor. You watch in abject horror as both she and Karina downed them one by one like they were water.

“No.”  you reply honestly.

“You will once you tell us what’s going on with you!” Karina interjects from your other side. “I meant it when I said I wanted you to vent to us, let it all out and give us the tea! Aeri’s dying to know.”

“It’s really embarrassing…” you admit, staring forlornly down at your own drink. “I’d rather just forget all about it.”

“It can’t be that bad. You didn’t drop your pants in front of everyone or anything, did you?”

You cringe. “God, no. It’s not like that.”

“Then it’s nothing you can’t tell us about.” Giselle shoots you a smile over the rim of her glass.

“It’s… it’s about Professor Choi.”

“Our linguistics professor?” Karina cocks her head. “Isn’t he the one you have a massive crush on?”

Your cheeks flush, your drink becoming even more interesting as you avoid looking at either of them in the eye. “Maybe.”

“Ugh, your taste in men is the worst.” Giselle snickers. “I don’t understand why you like him so much. He’s such a dick.”

You fight down the urge to defend him— for some odd reason, you feel a surge of protectiveness over Professor Choi, even when you completely agree with what Giselle is saying about him. “Yes, I like him, but that’s not the point. The point is that I totally fucked up and now I think he hates me.”

“What did you do?! Please tell me you cursed him out, he fucking deserves it.”

“No, Gigi, oh my God.” Even the mere thought of doing something like that sends shivers down your spine. “He caught me reading during class.”

“…That’s it? You’re freaking out over that?” Giselle blinks.

“It’s what I was reading that’s the problem.” you lament miserably, gathering your courage with a sip of your disgusting cocktail. “I have this book; it’s about a teacher and a student… getting together, if you know what I mean. It’s really dirty… and he caught me reading it in class. He took it, and then he read it himself right in front of me! He thinks I’m a freak. It’s been two days and he won’t even look at me.”

Karina and Giselle stare at you.

“Why the hell were you reading a smut book in class?!” Karina gasps, her dark glittery makeup making her wide eyes look even wider. “And one about a professor, too— were you trying to get caught? There’s better ways to go about telling him that you want to fuck him.”

“I don’t know— I was bored and stupid, okay?!” You had been asking yourself the same question for days, mentally beating yourself to a pulp every time it crossed your mind. “I thought he wouldn’t notice me since I sat in the back… now he’s going to tell the dean, and I’m going to get expelled, and—”

“Woah, woah, woah!” Giselle stops you in your downwards spiral, grabbing your shoulder to ground you. “You’re thinking too hard about this. He’s probably just a prude. If he was going to do something like that, he would have probably done it by now. Plus, I don’t think that’s really something you can be expelled over.”

You lean into her touch, resting your head on her shoulder as she pats your back comfortingly. “He’s mad at me…” you whine petulantly. “I was trying to get that TA position, too… fuck, I’m so screwed.”

“What would he be mad at you for? Being horny?” Karina laughs, “It’s really his own fault for snooping in your stuff.”

“I think you’ll still get it.” Giselle supplies helpfully. “You’ve really got nothing to worry about. Sure, your grade sucks, but I’ve seen the two of you talking in the hallway before— the way he looks at you is insane. And the way he looks at your ass when you leave is even crazier. You just showed him that you feel the same way about him that he does about you.”

“Don’t say that.” You groan. “You think that about every guy I talk to. There’s no way in hell that Professor Choi feels anything for me except hatred.”

“If you’re really that worried about it, you can always just apologize.” Karina says, drumming her long nails against her glass. “It might not do anything, but it’ll make you feel better.”

That was the first bit of real advice either her or Giselle had given you in a while, even if it left a bad taste in your mouth. “I don’t know. I feel like that would just make things worse. I need to go to the bathroom.”

You scramble off the barstool in a rush, teetering on your heels— you weren’t even that tipsy, but every step made you feel like a newborn deer. Karina and Giselle watch you hobble away in pity.

You stumble through the crowd in search of a bathroom sign, quickly getting lost in the sea of bodies. There’s little room to move around, everyone pressed up against each other dancing, too intoxicated to notice you trying to politely squeeze by. They jostle and knock you around, and you nearly trip over your own wobbly feet multiple times. Your headache grows nearly unbearable, your desperation to find an escape leading you to start pushing people out of the way so you can continue to move forward. One particularly drunk woman nearly knocks you to the ground, and she shoots you a dirty look over her shoulder when you shoulder past her roughly. You hate to be rude, but you’re teetering dangerously close to your breaking point. You need to find some peace and quiet, and fast.

But all of that goes out the window when among the countless bobbing and weaving heads, you spot a frighteningly familiar pair of broad shoulders.

“Professor Choi?!” you call out in shock, shoving your way towards him. “What are you doing here?!”

Without his suits and big clunky glasses on, you almost don’t recognize him. He was leaning back against the wall with two men who you vaguely recognize as other professors at the university, talking and laughing amongst themselves with beers in their hands. You admire the curve of his tall nose, the way his pronounced collarbones peeked out from the loose linen shirt he wore, the first few buttons undone to show a delicious strip of tan skin. His dark hair, usually gelled back to show his forehead, was left fluffy and untamed, framing his pretty brown eyes. He jumps a little at your voice, turning away from the men to look at you.

His eyes widen sharply, moving slowly from your face down to your chest. They linger there for a moment, blinking owlishly, before he tears them away from you completely, the tips of his ears turning bright red.

“Oh, um. Hello, Miss L/N.” he stutters, suddenly very interested in the state of his shoes. You make a quick mental note to thank Karina later for convincing you to squeeze yourself into this stupid dress.

“Oh, this is Y/N?” One of the men slurs gleefully, a grin stretching across his handsome face. There was a certain hunger in the way he undresses you with his fox eyes, scanning you head to toe like a predator. You could tell from his flushed pink cheeks that he was very drunk. “I’ve heard all about you! It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”

Something odd flashes in Professor Choi’s eyes and he jerks his head to shoot his friend a deathly glare. He doesn’t seem to notice.

“You’ve… heard about me?” you cringe, your heart sinking. Out of whatever Professor Choi had to say about you, none of it could be anything good.

“Oh, not much, just that you’re one of the brightest students that he’s ever taught.” The other man cuts in, chuckling. He tips his head back and takes a swig of his beer, flashing you his sharp jawline. “One of his favorites to have in class, he says.”

“Such a smart head on those little shoulders! You should consider taking my econ course next year, it’d be a gift to see your pretty face in my class.” The first man adds, his crooked smirk widening.

“Yeonjun, Chan, please.” Professor Choi grits out through his teeth, anxiously running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, what did you say, Miss L/N?”

You splutter as your lips refuse to form words. You?! The brightest student he’s ever had?! That was just a complete and utter lie; if it wasn’t for Giselle helping you with an extra credit assignment you had practically begged him on your knees for, you would be failing his class spectacularly. You couldn’t fathom why Professor Choi would say something like that to these two men, when nearly every class he was scolding you for being late, distracted, forgetting your deadlines, a combination of all three and more. Not only that, but with what had transpired the other day still fresh and stinging… they had to be saving face or making some kind of sick joke. As you collect your thoughts, you half expect them to start pointing and laughing.

“What are you doing here?” you repeat, peering up at Professor Choi’s blushing face. He avoids meeting your eyes, just like how he was in class.

“Am I not allowed to enjoy the start of my weekend?” he retorts, fiddling with the pull tab on his beer. “Clearly, you’re doing the same.”

He spits out the words like they left a bad taste in his mouth. It stung like an insult. “I thought you said you were busy.” you assert, biting your lip to keep from scoffing. The liquor giving you a little too much courage; he was still Professor Choi, even if now standing in front of you he looked like just any other guy.

“I… was.” He mumbles, “And now I’m not anymore. It’s really not any of your business.”

It takes everything you have to keep from blurting out that your book really wasn’t any of his business either, but you manage to hold your tongue.

“I’m sorry, I just— Sir, I need to talk to you.”

 “There’s nothing to talk about.” He says matter-of-factly. It’s far from what you were expecting him to say.

“What do you mean?” you challenge, your annoyance starting to turn sour. “It’s about the other day.”

Professor Choi continues to play dumb, though he keeps throwing sidelong glances to his coworkers. “What about it?”

“I want to apologize.” You bite hard on your lower lip. For doing nothing wrong.

Professor Choi’s eyes snap up to meet yours, inky dark irises wide in shock. “Y/N—”

“Apologize?” Professor Choi’s friend— Yeonjun— butts in, raising an eyebrow. “What happened?”

All the color leaves Professor Choi’s face, even the blush that was slowly trailing from his cheeks down his neck. He awkwardly clears his throat and averts his gaze, putting on a show of cupping his ear and pretending to be confused. “Sorry, I can’t hear you over all of this noise! If you have a question, I’ll be in my office tomorrow afternoon. Go on and have a good night.”

“Wait, Professor—!”

“Have a good night!”

It takes you a long time to find your way back to the bar, drunk, defeated, and stewing in your own thoughts. You’re pleasantly surprised to see that Giselle and Karina have been sat waiting for you all this time, but you don’t have it in you to feel happy or grateful as you plop yourself back onto your empty barstool. Their irritation quickly shifts to confusion and worry, both shooting you odd glances as Karina tentatively hands you another cocktail.

“Are you okay?”

“Did you get lost or something?”

You take a long sip, the disgusting sweetness and the bitter liquor overpowering your senses enough to calm your racing thoughts. “I think I’m going to go and talk to Professor Choi tomorrow.” is all you say.

“If you fuck him, please put in a good word for me.” Giselle slurs drunkenly in reply. “I need to pass that fucking class.”

“You’ve been a bad girl, haven’t you, Miss L/N?” Professor Choi whispers in your ear, his deep voice dripping with honeyed venom. The fabric of his dress shirt ghosts over your back, his body so close that you can feel the heat radiating off his skin. He has you trapped against his big wooden desk, bent over it obscenely with your ass in the air as you whimper and squirm. Your skirt and panties pool at your ankles, leaving your most intimate areas exposed for him to view. Your leaking pussy quivered from the icy cold air, your hole clenching desperately around nothing and aching to be filled.

“I’m sorry!” You mewl, voice wavering.

“You didn’t answer my question. What are you sorry for?” he presses, so deliciously condescending in the way he feigns ignorance, “Apologize to me properly and tell me what it was that you did.”

“I’ve been bad, sir. I was reading during your lecture, and I’m sorry—”

“Oh, you weren’t just reading.” Professor Choi scoffs, straightening himself up and off your back. He rounds the desk to circle you like prey, his slow methodical steps echoing throughout the quiet of his office. They echo in your ears and strike a dizzying mix of fear and anticipation in your heart.

“I-I was reading smut and…” your face burns hotter than the sun, and you close your eyes and take a deep breath to will yourself to have the courage to admit what it was you were caught doing. “…And I was touching myself.”

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that.” He stops to stand at your side, his mere presence hovering above you enough to make you shudder. “Tell me exactly how you were touching that slutty little pussy.”

His words go straight to your core, making you squeeze your thighs together in need. Just a little friction was all you needed, and the edge of his desk granted a great opportunity… but as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t let yourself give in to desperation and grind yourself against Professor Choi’s desk like a dog in heat. He would notice immediately, and it would only worsen your punishment.

“I was… I was rubbing my clit through my panties.” you admit ashamedly, “Grinding against my fingers. I was going to put one inside but you… you stopped me.”

“I could see your hand up your skirt all the way from the back of the class.” Professor Choi spits, his carefully controlled demeanor cracking and his wild, untamed anger boiling to the surface. “It’s like you’re trying to get the two of us caught. You’re lucky no one else was looking… or was that what you wanted? Did you want everyone to see what a slut you are?”

“N-no!” you gasp, but the idea gets you even wetter; you wanted nothing more than for everyone to know that he was much more than just your professor, that he was yours and in turn you were his. “I’m a slut j-just for you, no one else!”

“Fuck, that’s right.” he groans lowly, his voice dripping sex. He picks up a long wooden ruler off his desk, right by your head, and points the tip at the nape of your neck. It ran slowly down the curve of your spine, a ghostly barely-there touch that left a trail of fire erupt across your skin. He stops at the plush swell of your ass, gently caressing your flesh with the cold wood. “You’re all mine. My favorite little student. You just need some discipline to put you back in your place, hm? Show me what a good girl you can be and count for me.”

He rears his arm back, poised and ready to strike. You can hear the ruler whooshing through the air, sharp and fast as he swings his arm forwards—

Your eyes snap open with a gasp. Suddenly, you’re back in your bedroom, curled up safe and sound in your bed, groggy and disoriented as you slowly come back down to reality. While you dreamt about Professor Choi often, never had one felt this vivid, this real. You can still feel the echoes of his touch, the phantom pain of his ruler against your asscheek haunting you like a ghost. Your panties are soaked through completely, sticky arousal pooling in the fabric and dripping down your thighs, creating a wet spot on your sheets. You toss and turn to try and go back to sleep, but it’s no use; you’re so horny you can’t think straight, can’t ignore the dull throbbing in your core.

As your hand slides under the waistband of your panties, you decide that enough is enough.

You were at your breaking point. Your life had spiraled completely out of control in the span of just two days, all because your stupid puppy-love crush of a professor had to be nosy about your reading material. He just had to find a way to humiliate you even more than he already did, didn’t he? He could’ve just given you your book back and the two of you could have gone on with your lives. He shouldn’t have even taken your book in the first place! You could have continued fantasizing about him from the back of the class, not a worry in the world, instead of losing precious hours of sleep and mentally beating yourself up.

And after your interaction at the bar, you feel even more ridiculous. If Professor Choi truly had the intention of telling someone about what he had caught you reading, wouldn’t he have told the other professors that he was with? And lying to them about you being his smartest student…  you couldn’t wrap your head around it.

It was clear that Professor Choi didn’t want to talk about it. But even if he wants to pretend like none of this ever happened, you just couldn’t.

There was simply no other way for you to get over all of this other than finally confronting him. You needed to make the endless spiral stop, tell him exactly what was on your mind and finally put this to bed. The longer you stew over everything that has transpired, the more your fear and anxiety boils over into anger. This was all Professor Choi’s fault! You needed to give him a piece of your mind, or you don’t think you’ll ever be able to move on.

Professor Choi doesn’t answer until after the fifth knock, his face immediately dropping once he swings open his office door to see you standing there in front of him. His hair is a mess and his clothes are disheveled, his tie half undone and his shirt sleeves rolled up past his elbows. Anxiously he adjusts his glasses, the wide brown eyes behind them looking like a cornered deer’s. “You actually came over to apologize?” He blurts out before you can even open your mouth, genuine surprise taking over his features. “I didn’t think you—"

“Actually, no, I’m not here to apologize!” you declare, the words spilling out before you gave yourself the time to second guess yourself. You had lied awake until the sun came up thinking about what to say, and you weren’t going to let those wasted hours go to waste. “I’m here to tell you, sir, that going through my book was an invasion of my privacy! And that it’s none of your business what I read! I’m an adult, not a child, and I can do whatever I damn well please!”

Professor Choi blinks owlishly, staring at you in stunned silence for so long that your newfound confidence falters and you begin to shuffle nervously.

“Oh. Um… alright.” He finally says.

“Alright?!” you echo incredulously, your irritation coming back in full swing. “You’ve been avoiding me for days and all you have to say for yourself is alright?!”

Professor Choi’s eyes flicker around anxiously, and it suddenly hits you that you were yelling at him in a public hallway. “I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“Yes you do!” you shriek. This really wasn’t how you were planning on any of this going, but it was far too late to turn back. You open your mouth to continue your rant, face burning hot with unbridled rage, but Professor Choi quickly grabs your wrist and roughly pulls you into his office. The sudden act shocked you into silence, your eyes wide and mouth agape as he drags you all the way back to his desk. 

“Listen.” He growls, his voice octaves deeper than you’ve ever heard it before. “You’re acting way out of line right now. Don’t you dare ever talk to me like that, you understand me? I’m still your professor, even when we’re not in class. You’re to treat me with respect—”

“Then you treat me with respect first!” you retort, though you do manage to calm yourself down enough to lower your voice. “Playing dumb and refusing to talk to me after humiliating me in front of everyone! What was even the point of doing that? Was it just for your own sick pleasure?!”

“Y/N.” Professor Choi sighs, the second time you’ve ever heard him call you by your first name— the first was at the club, but you were far too distracted to dwell on it. “I know you have some sort of feelings for me. You’re not very good at hiding it.”

Your entire world comes crashing around you, though you suppose that you shouldn’t be too surprised. You had just let yourself hope beyond reason that he would never pay you any attention.

“What I’m trying to say is… Y/N, you need to stop it. Get rid of the book. I can’t be with you, it’ll never work, okay? I’m your teacher, and ten years your senior. There’s plenty of college boys around campus for you to ogle over instead.”

“You say you can’t but… do you want to?” you ask quietly, barely above a whisper.

Professor Choi doesn’t meet your eyes. “I could get in a lot of trouble, Y/N. You could too.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” You challenge, a hopeful spark igniting in your chest. He didn’t say no… and you may be looking too into things, or just clinging onto hope, but that was more than enough proof to you that your professor was hiding some feelings of his own.

“We can’t do this.” He mumbles, his voice growing wilder, more defiant.

“Sure we can! I’m an adult, you’re an adult… did I scare you away with my book or something? Look, it’s okay if it wasn’t up your alley. There’s nothing wrong with being vanilla, Professor. You don’t have to, like, spank me or anything—”

“But I do!” he interjects suddenly, his head shooting up to look at you with wild eyes. His entire face was bright crimson red.

“You… wait, what?” you must have misheard him. That was the only explanation, surely; There was no way he actually—

“I can’t stop thinking about it! I thought there was no way you’d be into anything like that, that I needed to stop thinking about you and move on like a professional, but then you go and pull this, and now I can’t go a single second without thinking about putting you over my knee! It’s driving me insane! I can’t even look at you!” 

“Professor—”

“Soobin. God, just call me Soobin. I can’t handle you calling me that right now.”

You open and close your mouth a couple of times, surely looking like a fish out of water— This was the absolute last thing you expected to come out of your professor’s— Soobin’s—mouth. Your eyes bulge out of your head, your face burns hotter than the sun… your pussy clenches pathetically. It felt like you were in a dream, almost, which might have been why you suddenly felt so brazen— if you wanted him, and he wanted you, who were you to deny him?

“Then do it.” you say, voice barely above a whisper. Soobin looks just as shocked at your proclamation as you were. “If you want to do it that bad, do it.”

He moves in a flash, giving you no time to prepare— within seconds has you thrown over his lap on his office swivel chair, your hair hanging in your face as you blink wildly at the floor. Soobin brushes one of his big hands against you skirt-clad ass, barely a brush of his fingers, but you still gasp all the same.

“Do you really want this?” He breathes, voice low, his breathing hard—the outline of his cock presses hard against your stomach through his slacks, making it considerably hard to focus on the words that came out of his mouth.

It takes you a moment, but you manage to choke out a whiny “Yes, sir, please.”

Soobin stutters out an uneven breath, his fingers inching down to the hem of your skirt, teasing the tops of your thighs for just a moment before pulling the fabric up to expose your ass, a noticeable wet spot present on your panties.

“So pretty…” He coos. You can feel his cock twitch against your stomach, those long knobby fingers trailing along the edge of your lacy thong. “Is it okay if I take your panties off, bunny?”

You whimper and nod your head— Soobin lands a gentle love-tap to the junction of your thighs with an airy chuckle. “Use your words like a good girl.”

This couldn’t be happening. You had to be dreaming, or hallucinating, or something, anything except truly living through this fantasy come to life— Boring, bland Professor Choi, the biggest prude you thought you knew, was just way too good at this, at making your legs shake and your pussy throb all the while barely touching you. In just an afternoon your reality had shifted from thinking that he had to be the world’s biggest loser virgin to thinking that he was even sexier than the professor in your book.

You weren’t sure how to feel about it, but your cunt did. 

You must have stayed silent for too long, because without much warning Soobin lands a much harsher spank to the top of your asscheek. “Bad girl!” he admonishes, and you can hear the teasing, dimpled grin in his voice “C’mon baby, use your big girl words. Tell me how much you want it.” His hot breath fans over your ear— you couldn’t hold in your moan even if you tried, the broken whine sounding weak and pathetic even to your own ears. 

“P-Please, sir… please take my panties off. Please spank me.” you whimper, your face beet red and your pussy drooling— Soobin’s deft fingers stroke slowly up and down your folds, feeling the wetness seep through the cotton fabric of your panties. You bite your lip to keep from screaming.

“That’s my good bunny.” You could hear your panties rip as he tears them off of you in one solid motion, the biting cold air meeting your hot soaking cunt and making both you and Soobin hiss. He admires the slick leaking down your thighs for a brief silent moment, deep breathy voice cooing at the way you arch into him and his touch, before he straightens back up and lands a stinging, eye watering spank deliciously close to your core. You yelp at the sting.

“That’s for being a fucking tease,” Soobin states, soothing your reddening flesh with a soft caress of his palm. “Being so fucking hot all the time and driving me crazy because I thought I could never have you.”

You hadn’t realized that this was confessional. Shooting him an evil smile over your shoulder, you giggle, “You could’ve just asked.”

Another spank, this time with even more force. Your hips buck with a shrill cry spilling from your open, panting mouth, your eyes watering— you had no idea Professor Choi was this strong. He refuses to give you any time to prepare, never warning you when the next hit to your ass will come. “I didn’t say you could talk back.” He growls.

You’re on the verge of tears from the red-hot stinging in your ass, but you still giggle at his words. “You’re kinky.”

Soobin just rolls his eyes, spanking you again, albeit a little softer. “And this one’s for being a brat. How about you start counting for me, bunny? That’s one.”

“One?! You’ve hit me four times!” Maybe you were pushing it too far, but it just came naturally to you to fight back, make him work for your submission and obedience. You relished pushing him as far as he would go; you relished losing.

Soobin grabs a handful of your hair and yanks hard, making you gasp loudly and your empty pussy flutter. Leaning down close to your ear, he lets out a warning growl; “I said fucking count.”

You don’t think you’ve ever been this wet in your life. Torn between bucking your hips into Professor Choi’s bulge and pushing back into the touch of his hand, you give a quiet, watery whimper of “One…”

The hand holding your hair lets go, your head falling limply over his knee. “That’s my girl.” He coos lowly, stroking your head.

It distracts you enough that the next harsh slap to your ass feels even more intense than any of the others before it. “T-two…”

“That’s for being so fucking disrespectful. And in front of my colleagues too, no less. It’s like you were asking for me to ruin you.” Soobin tsks. “You need to learn to watch your mouth.”

The urge to say something smart tugs at you again, even if just to prove his point, but another spank rains down on your sore, bruising asscheeks before you can seize the opportunity.

“T-three!”

“And that’s… that’s for pushing me to put you over my lap in the first place. You couldn’t just leave it alone, could you? And now look at you, making me risk my job to teach you a lesson.” Soobin’s voice wavers, filling with an emotion you couldn’t quite place— it was extremely difficult to focus on his words when his fingers began to trail down the curve of your ass to your sticky, quivering folds, rubbings the tip of his thumb right over your clothed core. You moan unabashedly, shifting your hips and opening your legs to give him better access to what was peeking out between your thighs.

The fifth spank never comes. Soobin tugs your panties to the side and pushes two long, thick fingers between your folds, stuttering out a low moan like he was the one being touched. He starts a rough, dizzying pace almost immediately, his fingertips searching for that spongy spot inside of you. You grind your hips back against Soobin’s fingers, a drooling mess against his slacks.

“Pr-Professor…” you whine high in your throat — you want more, want him to speed up, slow down… his touches were driving you wild. You hadn’t been touched like this ever before.

“I told you not to call me that.” He hisses, curling his fingers against your sweet spot and making you keen. “Please, call me by my name.”

“Soobin!” you cry out, writhing against him. You felt a passion rising within you like the hottest fire, clouding your brain. You couldn’t think of anything except of the pleasure that he gave you, couldn’t utter out anything other than his name.

“Such a slut, falling apart just on my fingers…” he chucks huskily, enamored with the filthy wet sounds your cunt made and how they echoed through the quiet office. “I’ve thought about doing this for forever, God… you’re just as beautiful as I thought you’d be.”

His thumb, wet from your arousal, comes down to rub tight, delicious circles against your sensitive, engorged clit, your strangled wail no doubt loud enough to be heard from the hallway. The building ecstasy distracts you enough for him to push in a third finger into your tight hole. The stretch burns but you love it, your hips kicking and moans growing louder and louder as he effortlessly takes you apart. 

“...Too much…!” you manage to choke out, digging your teeth into the fabric of Soobin’s slacks to keep yourself from screaming out in bliss. You felt full to the brim, pushed closer and closer to the edge with every rough flick of your clit and thrust of his perfect talented fingers. He teases a fourth finger around your leaking, stretched out rim, the threat of it alone enough to make your eyes roll back in your head.

“Oh bunny, if this is too much there’s no way you’ll be able to take my cock…” 

The tears that had been brimming in your eyes start to stream freely down your burning cheeks, choked hiccups and sobs wracking your body, but it was the most pleasurable agony you had ever been in. Your hips move with a mind of their own, bucking against Soobin’s cock, thick and hard as a rock, only seeming to grow bigger and bigger every time you rub against it. You relish the sharp intakes of breath he takes every time you move against him. He was starting to fall apart too, you could tell, his voice sounding a lot less dominating and a lot more whiny and pathetic with each roll of his hips up into your tummy.

“I’m gonna… gonna make you cum on my fingers,” he whines low in his throat, his hand completely soaked in your arousal up to the wrist. “You gonna make a mess for me?”

His fingers dig impossibly and wonderfully hard into your sweet spot, that white-hot band of desire in your stomach winding tighter and tighter with each perfectly aimed thrust. You wail and sob, your hand reaching back to grab a tight fistful of his shirt sleeve. “I-I-m— ‘m gonna cum!”

Soobin’s other hand, the one that had been stroking your hair, then comfortingly up and down your back, rises up to smack your ass, the sudden burst of stinging pain making you scream, and for real this time.

 “You gotta ask first, bad girl! Gotta ask for permission b-before you cum…” His voice starts to break, his hips stuttering helplessly— the feeling of his big fat cock grinding hard against you only added to the fire in your belly. 

“Can I cum? Please, sir, can I cum? I’ll be a good girl, I promise, just let me cum!” you had no control over your mouth, hardly any conscious at all— all you could focus on was the tightening in your belly, the way Soobin’s fingers thrusted in and out of your pussy so good… you were his brainless whore, fucked dumb on his fingers. 

“Shit, go on honey, my good girl, my bunny… cum all over me, make a mess!” with his permission you let yourself topple over the edge, moaning and whimpering like a whore as you soak your thighs, Soobin’s hand, his shirt and slacks with your juices. You lay across his lap twitching for quite some time afterwards, your chest heaving like you had just run a marathon… you’d never come before like that in your life, not as hard or for as long. Soobin was with you the whole way as you come down from your high, sweet as can be as he coos praises into your hair and pats your back, kissing your head when you raised it to look over your shoulder at him.

Slowly, you realize that you no longer feel his bulge poking at your belly. You release your iron grip on his shirt to slide your hand down his chest and abdomen, all the way down to gently cup his very wet crotch. “Sir…?”

“S-sorry, bunny… couldn’t help it…” he turns his head away from you to hide his glowing red face, but you can see how his blush spreads down his neck and up to the tips of his ears.

“Did you just… cum?” you ask in awe and disbelief, looking down to see a dark stain spreading across the fabric of his slacks. Soobin only mumbles in response, refusing to answer or turn back to look at you, his blush growing an even deeper shade of red. It was all the confirmation you needed.

Professor Choi came in his pants like a virgin without you even needing to touch him. Something about that alights a blazing inferno in your core, your senses overtaken with need even though you had just had an orgasm yourself.

“I want to taste it.” You breathe out, your overwhelming desire eclipsing any rational thought and taking control of your words.

“Y-you… what?” his head snaps back to you in surprise, his eyes wide and clouded with lust as they gaze headily into yours.

“Your cum, wanna taste it, want it on my tongue…” you’ve never spoken like this to anyone, your voice not feeling like your own— the words spill out from between your lips mindlessly, desperate for more of Soobin’s brain numbing pleasure as you rub him through his slacks. His cock twitches underneath your fingertips, beginning to harden again from the ministrations. “Can I please suck you off, sir?”

“Fuck.” Soobin moans, rough and deep in his chest, the sound shooting straight to your sensitive pussy. “Yeah you can, naughty girl, come on, get on your knees and suck my cock. Clean up my mess.”

Your entire body feels limp and weak, not wanting to cooperate with you as you slide off of Soobin’s lap to the floor. It takes great effort to get yourself situated, kneeling on the floor with your unsteady hands grasping at his thick thighs. He widens his legs to give you more room to get comfortable, one of his big hands instinctively coming down to tangle in your hair as your own begin to slide up the insides of his thighs towards his straining belt buckle.

Ever so slowly and meticulously you unbuckle Soobin’s belt, the jingling of the metal buckle as it’s casted aside like music to your ears. You pull his pants and boxers down together in one rough tug, Soobin canting his hips to help you guide them down his thighs. His cock springs free and slaps obscenely against his belly, smearing the light fabric of his dress shirt in his thick, viscous cum. You can’t help but stop and stare, enamored by the sheer size of it— nearly as thick as a can and twice the length of one, throbbing veins making your mouth water. Cum still leaks from his angry red tip, fat and bulbous, the entirety of his length wet and shiny down to his heavy, twitching balls and neatly trimmed pubes.

You kiss the tip with a delighted grin, the contact barely-there but enough to make Soobin throw his head back and whimper in delight. Your tongue peeks out from between your lips to slide across his slit, earning a high-pitched needy hiss from the man above you, his long fingers tightening their grip on your hair as you lick down his dripping shaft. His thick, salty cum tastes like ambrosia on your tongue, the delicious bitterness quickly getting you drunk. You can’t stop until you lick him completely clean, and even then it’s impossible for you to pull away, the feeling of his weeping cockhead heavy on your tongue far too addicting. Greedily you suck him into your mouth, relishing in the way his girth stretches your lips before swallowing him deeper and deeper until his tip knocks against the back of your throat. You can hardly fit your hands around him, let alone your mouth, fisting what couldn’t fit down your throat as you start bobbing your head. More broken tears collect on your lashes and drip down your wet cheeks, looking utterly ruined and wanton as you gaze up from between Soobin’s legs into his hazy, unfocused eyes.

The eye contact is too much for him— his eyes roll back in his head with a whimper and his cock twitches violently inside of your mouth, the grip he has on your hair shifting from guiding your head along his shaft to tugging you off him with a sudden and disorienting strength. He pulls you off him with a wet pop, a foamy string of saliva connecting from his shiny cockhead to your needy whimpering lips.

“I’m gonna cum again if you don’t stop,” he pants, gasping for breath, “I gotta fuck that pussy first, bunny, please. Need to feel that tight cunt squeezing around me.”

“D’you wanna cum inside?” you goad, a lustful, mischievous grin overtaking your features, “Don’t worry, Soobin, I’m on the pill. You can fill me up if you want to.”

Your words make him visibly shake, what was left of his flimsy resolve crumbling right before your eyes, leaving nothing but primal hunger. “Get on the fucking desk.”

You obey immediately, hardly able to contain your excitement as you stumble to your feet and bend over Soobin’s big oak desk, wiggling your ass in the air invitingly. Your skirt and panties were still pulled up and pushed aside, exposing your dripping puffy hole for his eyes to feast upon.

“So pretty…” he croons behind you, his hands caressing your hips and waist. They smooth over the exposed globes of your ass, his fingers fiddling with the gusset of your drenched panties. Sheer pink lace that compliments your flushed skin, looks so delectable running through Soobin’s fingers as he grabs your asscheeks and spreads them wide. “You look so cute in pink.”

he hisses in appreciation at the sight of your dripping hole quivering, sliding a finger down between your pussy lips to circle at your engorged clit. “Holy fuck, you’re so wet,” he groans, accentuating his claim with a flick of his hand— your pussy squelches obscenely, the lewd, pornographic sound making your cheeks flush. “I can’t take it anymore, I have to be inside of you— you can take it, right bunny?”

“Please!” you beg, hardly able to string together a sentence, “Please, sir, put it in, I need it so bad, need your cock—”

You’re interrupted by the feeling of his cockhead slapping against your entrance, Soobin running the leaky tip up and down your slit a few times just to hear your little whimper before burying himself inside to the hilt in one smooth thrust. He rams into you with a force that knocks the air out of your lungs, his long fat shaft stretching out your hole much more than you could have ever been prepared for. The burn is indescribable, overwhelming every single one of your senses in the best way, your tight gummy walls gripping his cock like a vice as the both of you struggle to adjust.

He's so deep inside of you it feels as if he’s poked through your cervix and into your womb, his big fat mushroom head snug right beneath your belly button. You’re so deliciously full that it makes your head spin, already fucked completely brainless before Soobin had even begun to properly move.

“Does it hurt?” he asks you softly, so gentle compared to how he carved out your insides. In any other circumstance you would find it sweet that he was this concerned, but you were certain that if he didn’t start moving inside of you right then and there, you were going to die.

“More.” you croak back in response. “Give it to me.”

With a winded groan, Soobin relents. He pulls his cock out until just the head was inside of you, giving you not a single moment to prepare before slamming back in with a force that knocks you further up on the desk. The hardwood against your cheek does nothing to muffle your loud, unabashed shriek, so he improvises by shoving two of his thick fingers past your open lips, the musky tang of your own juices filling your mouth when you suck hungrily at the digits. He set up a punishing rhythm within seconds, his hips clapping loudly and wetly against your ass while he muffles your whines and wails. His heavy balls smack against your oversensitive clit with every rough thrust, sending shockwave after shockwave of pleasure straight to your core. The desk cuts into the skin of your hips painfully, but if anything, it only adds to the burning sweetness building steadily in the pit of your belly.

“F-fuck, I’m close already!” Soobin puffs against the shell of your ear, pressing himself up against your back— you’re suddenly thrown back into your dream from the night before, the way the sensations were eerily similar yet nowhere near as good as the real thing. “Gonna cum inside you, is that okay? Wanna see how pretty your pussy looks dripping my cum.”

You can only drool in response, your thoughts fragmented and scattered, babbling desperate nonsense and rolling your hips back to meet Soobin’s thrusts with a dizzying force. Your body vibrates with liquid fire, heating your puffy cunt and quivering thighs— faster than ever before were you hurtling towards your climax, that familiar tightening in your core growing harder and harder to bear. You wanted nothing more than to yield to the tide, let it overtake you completely, and in turn pull Soobin down with you.

Your professor was going to cum inside of you. The fantasies that had haunted you for months truly became a tangible reality. What did you do to make you so lucky?

“This slutty pussy’s sucking me in so fucking tight,” Soobin groans, his thrusts growing sloppier, “Tell me you want my cum, baby, come on. Who’s cum do you want inside of you? Tell me and I’ll give it to you!”

“Yours!” you shriek with the last remaining bits of your energy, your words nearly incomprehensible to how you sniffled and sobbed around Soobin’s fingers. “Want your cum— my professor’s cum inside of me!”

You took a gamble, but it was just what he wanted to hear. With one last aggressive thrust, Soobin bottoms out inside of your pulsating cunt, his bulbous cockhead kissing your battered cervix as he cums with a broken cry. The sensation of his sticky, hot seed splashing against your insides is just what you need to tip over the edge yourself, your walls clamping down on him and milking him for all he’s worth as you ride out your own climax with long, surrendering moans. He hisses from the overstimulation, but he makes no movements to pull out, letting himself soften inside of you as you both struggle to catch your breaths. Thick viscous globs of your mixed cum leak out from where you’re connected, dripping down your thighs and Soobin’s balls to collect in a puddle on the floor.

You gaze over your shoulder to watch as Soobin slowly and carefully pulls out, a creamy, foamy white ring formed around the base of his cock. His glasses were fogged up from his heavy breathing, his hair and clothes even more a mess than it was when he had first opened the door, his pink face so irritatingly kissable when he shoots you a nervous dimpled smile.

You cant help but giggle at him.

“You’re not going to… tell anyone about this, are you?” he asks you anxiously, opening one of the desk’s drawers to retrieve a packet of tissues.

“As long as you explain to me why you told those other professors that I was your best student.” You reply smartly, your grin widening when he scowls.

“It was the only way I could think of how to explain why I talk about you so much.” He admits shyly, wiping down the mess between your thighs. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d rather if we continued that charade so it doesn’t look suspicious when I ask you to come to my office every once in a while.”

“Will you give me that TA position then?”

“You technically don’t qualify,” He laughs, “but I thought that was a given.”

“You won’t regret bending the rules a little, I promise.” You tell him with a wink and a smile. The love-stricken, goofy dimpled grin he shoots back at you makes your heart soar.

“I know I won’t.”

𝒯O𝔐ORROW X 𝒯O𝒢E𝒯HER 𝒯A𝒢L𝒾S𝒯 ⪼

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[hoetachi]

HAPPINESS OVER EVERYTHING (H.O.E) — J. TODD

suggestive themes

I hope she don't think, that I think that she's some kind of hoe

A SOFT KNOCK graced the dark oak and he already knew whom it would be. without words being exchanged, he heard the chambers turned followed by a slight creak. there you were… in your newest ‘outfit’. off the record, this was your skimpiest outfit by far (which he loved a little too much by the slight tent in his slacks) and just knew you were getting tipped well for it.

jason relaxed a bit in the chair, umbrella twisting lazily between his fingers whilst keeping his shielded eyes on your figure. a mischievous smirk graced your glossed lips as you pressed your back to his door, which he picked up on the chambers turning again. you locked it.

time for your scheduled ‘cat & mouse’ game.

you pressed yourself free off the oak and switched your hips towards his desk. “5th time this week, doll” he pointed out as you inched closer. you now was right before him leaning over, pushing your breast together slightly whilst your perfume invaded his senses. sweet as ever, a scent he’ll never get a enough of.

“they say you pickin’ favorites mista hood” you finally spoke, your hair falling over your shoulders while you stared at him doed eyes. he always liked how you said ‘mista hood’ with your slightly hidden brooklyn accent. you don’t know it, but you’re the only one who’s allowed to refer to him as that. for everyone else it’s either ‘boss’ or ‘sir’

he exhaled, “i don’t do the favoritism bullshit.”

“then what do you do?” you asked, circling his desk. ghosting your hand over the nape of his neck, if he didn’t achieved the self control he currently had, he would’ve shuddered from the ghost of your touch without hesitation. he sees why bruce stayed up on those rooftops now, the mere thought about going against your own code for desire was a thrilling experience

“i treat people how they deserve to be treated” he stated curtly. he was never the one to sugarcoat the truth, that’s what most of the staff secretly disliked about him.

if he wanted to say ‘fuck off and rot in ditch’ he had nothing holding back, absolutely no remorse. he knew everything about everyone who worked under him and knew majority of them weren’t kind people in their day to day, so why would he treat them how he would like to be treated if they were mere scum?

“so if they wanna act like gossiping schoolgirls, i wouldn’t take their comments seriously”

“is this why you’re lingering in my office instead of… displaying your talents?”

you finally made it back before and leaned again on his desk. you pretended to think about for second. how cute you are “maybe… maybe not” another cheshire smirk graced your lips

“so.. how do i deserve to be treated, mista hood?”

“i’m letting you avoid working right now for one. two between you and i, i pay you more than your coworkers out there, even though you’re here less” he chuckled at your face at the little jab towards your absence around the lounge

“you know why though” you rolled your eyes at the jab. he loved to push your buttons, your reactions were just the cutest thing to him plus he knew you couldn’t really stay mad at him.

“how’d your exam go?”

“i feel that i definitely scored the lowest on it. im way too over my head with this veterinarian thing”

he used the hook of the umbrella he’s been twirling with to pull the strap of your bikini top and snapped it back, causing a yelp from you. you dropped your head and pouted as you rubbed the suddenly aching spot between your breast, however the same hook tilted your head up.

you were meant with crimson lens and from the looks of it, he wasn’t too happy with your comment. “don’t say that. do i look like i hire idiots?” he questioned coldly, you parted your lips to answer but realized it was a rhetorical question and thought best to not say anything. “you passed that entrance exam with flying colors, which is amazing considering there’s an 9% acceptance rate so don’t dare discredit that mind of yours”

“are you intelligent!?” he raised his voice, causing you to straighten your back with a flinch before nodding your head rapidly, “say it y/n!” he raised his voice again, “i’m intelligent” you said rapidly, making you stand up straight with your gaze falling to your feet. he mentally scolded himself for his outburst. he knew better to always watch his tone with you knowing you already get enough shit while on the clock from the others. “im sorry for yelling,” he apologized

“it’s okay, mista hood” you reassured, giving him a sheepish smile. “i just don’t ever want to catch you beating up yourself. you’re a good woman” he complimented with a much softer tone

“hmph, some woman i am” you huffed, twirling the end of your hair between your fingers unamused

his brows knitted at your comment, “what did i just say, y/n?” he scolded

“i know i know im sorry, but cmon mista hood. look where i work at?”

“it’s a fixer upper… i see potential still” the last part more for himself than the actual lounge. he’ll give credit to cobblepot, he took good care for the place but it was better under jason’s ownership.

“no man wants a woman who flirts their way into their pockets” you whispered whilst looking out the tinted window towards the vip section. the urge to cup that pretty face of yours and have those hypnotized eyes on him and him only came in droves. the fight with temptation around you could make him weak than any fight with the toughest rogues in gotham.

“speed dating ain’t workin’ out for you?”

“after the compliments and pleasantries, they don’t quite stick around once the question of what i do shows face” you joked half heartedly. no matter how much of a front you put on, he knew you wanted someone to take care of you and not just try to take you home for night

“doesn’t sound like men to me”

“then what does it sound like?”

“boys trying to play big man. someone’s way of paying the bills shouldn’t define them, so don’t let them define you. this is temporary, y/n just like those boys”

“you definitely know how to flatter a lady mista hood” you smiled softly, walking around his desk and he scooted back some to make some space for you to hop up on his desk to sit

he shrugged, feeling a bit more relaxed with you closer to him. “i’m just telling the truth”

“or maybe the truth is, you’re a really good ladies man..” there was a sudden glint in your eyes and he knew it was finally time to test how strong-willed he was against his own desire

“y/n…” he warned once you brushed your leg against his

“am i toeing the line?” your voice dripping in playfulness and your eyes shadowed with seduction, he was more than thankful for the tints on goggles how he had to close them to control his urges. how did the old bat do it with the cat for so long is all he could think about. you two barely even touched and he already so bothered

disregarding his caution, you continued your pursuit of him. “i would expect you of all people to love a bit of risk every once in a while”

“don’t start something you can’t finish” that was his second warning for you

“you see, mista hood, that’s the problem”

“you won’t let me finish. got me thinkin’ you may be into edging” you moaned, pulling in your bottom lip. he almost put together how sweet the actual melody of your moans would sound and that alone practically put him closer to the edge

“i don’t mix business with pleasure”

“it didn’t seem like a problem with liz and all the other girls” he watched again as you tried to your best not to roll your eyes at the name. liz wasn’t nothing to him nor others, if he had a rough night, he knew they’ll do anything to get even a smudge of the attention that he gives you

“they throw themselves”

a pout formed on your face and god, he could’ve been putty right in your hands. “am i not throwing myself hard enough?” you batted your lashes towards him.

“you’re better than that, doll”

you giggled as you placed a hand over your chest dramatically being flattered, “you think too highly of me, mista hood”

“i do, but who can blame me of thinking of you”

“and that’s your other problem too” he watched as you smirked. pushing yourself off of the desk, you moved the umbrella aside and decided to find a more comfortable spot to sit. you slowly sat yourself on his lap, making sure he had the perfect view of your arched back before looking over your shoulder with an innocent expression. “is this spot taken by chance?” throwing your legs over his knee, really settling against his tailored suit. you were going to be his second death for sure

he exhausted exaggeratedly, you’re the only woman he has set of rules for himself.

he can’t touch you. you can comb your fingers through his hair, acrylics scratching his scalp comfortingly and he has to fight the urge to nozzle into your touch.

he can’t taste you. he’s tempted every time you leave a glossy kiss on the corner of his mouth because knowing your love for toeing the line, he’s just curious how’d you react if one day he just captured those plump lips and explored that sweet mouth of yours and pull a moan from the depths of your core

you’re completely right

you’re his biggest problem

part 2?

[alwayzadorbs]

Just found your account and you're automatically my fav luci writer my god?? YOU'RE FEEDING US Could you do lucifer with a virgin mc who's oblivious to advancements but gets extremely shy if lucifer spells it out for her👉👈

You're in luck, Anon! I hope you don't mind if I refer to MC with gender-neutral pronouns! I'll still describe other stuff but I just feel more comfortable writing that way :D I'm glad you like my writing so much, it means the world to me! I'll try to write more for you! <3

rating: Smut, 18+

You couldn't deny that you had feelings for Lucifer, you often thought about holding his hand or what it would be like to date him. So you couldn't help but smile when he offered to Tutor you for upcoming testing. It was a rare occasion for Lucifer to be able to tutor you instead of sticking it on Satan again, on account of the workloads Diavolo annually places on him.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

You had brought your schoolwork to Lucifer's room, setting the stack of papers on his glass table, and sitting down on his couch. Lucifer came to sit next to you, pressing his leg against yours.

Clearing his throat, Lucifer said, "Let's begin with Spells and Potions..." Trying not to be distracted by his thigh touching yours, you jotted down the most important things.

"So, What do you think this one is?"Lucifer said, pointing towards the question and leaning over.

"I think that the answer is..." You trailed off, unsure if what you were about to say was right or wrong.

"Hm, Almost correct, Can you tell me what's wrong with this excerpt here?" He said, lightly placing his gloved hand on your knee, using his other hand to point towards the line of text you misinterpreted

"Uh," you paused, trying to sort your thoughts, there's no way Lucifer did that on purpose, it must've been an accident, no reason to get worked up... "Right here where I wrote eye of eye of newt, it's supposed to be, uh.."

Lucifer's hand trailed up from your knee to your thigh "Eye of hellfire newt, a small but distinct difference, it's easy to get confused when making this potion. The effects are, adverse and unwieldy." he chuckled lowly, lightly squeezing your thigh

"Let's continue, next is...Anatomy class," He continued, removing his hand from your thigh to pull his coat off "You need to understand a Demon's anatomy," his hands drifted to his necktie, wiggling it slightly before pulling it undone.

"Our bodies inside and out are actually quite similar, except for a few differences..." Lucifer explained, going into more detail, pulling his gloves off to unbutton his shirt, the first few buttons popping away from their spots, revealing his soft skin, and collar bones. "So tell me, where do you think my heart is? Go ahead, point." He shifted his body towards you on the couch, welcoming you to make the next move.

"W-wait what?" Your face flushed, Why did he just strip?! "I, I'm not sure.." you said, looking away, even though you wanted to stare.

Even when Lucifer went to the beach, with you and all his brothers, he wore a SPF shirt, never showing his muscles in their full glory, but now, you could finally see what he hit underneath his shirt. His ample pecs were decorated by his flush, pink nipples. You could eat up the sight for hours,, but it's wrong to look at somebody like that when they're trying to be professional, or at least that's what you thought was going on.

In all reality, you were completely oblivious to the fact Lucifer was coming on to you. And Lucifer was completely oblivious to the fact you were a virgin.

"Here, I'll show you." He said, smirking, guiding your hand with his towards his chest "If you press firmly enough, you can hear my heartbeat."

your breath stopped for a moment, his heart beat rapidly, and you could feel it radiating in your fingertips. Something about the way your hand pressed against his chest lit a fire in your loins. As soon as you felt it, heat flushed through your face, looking away and pulling your hand back.

"uh- sorry, yeah I felt your heartbeat," you said, awkwardly, feeling embarrassed. You subconsciously let your hand wander to your face, trying to hide a bit in your hand.

"Hm, Whats wrong, Mc?" Lucifer sighed, in a flirtatious tone. He reached out, guiding your head to face him with his index finger under your chin, with his thumb lightly placed on your chin.

He smiled, "Feeling embarrassed? That's hardly the most...sensitive subject for Demons." Now staring you down, with those gorgeous ruby eyes, there's no way you can look away.

He gripped your hand with his, guiding it to his frame once again "Lungs, spleen, liver,,," He continued to guide your hand down, with the corresponding areas of his organs, until, he could guide no longer, reaching his waistband.

"Mc," Lucifer edged closer, leaning in, cupping your face with his hands. "Kiss me."

Blush covered your face, stunned, you squeaked out, "Why?! I..I thought we were studying.." You said, reluctantly.

Lucifer laughed, "Mc, I want to be with you. Must I spell it out further? I want to have sex with you" He blurted out, shutting his eyes, blush creeping onto his cheeks.

"But..." you paused, looking away "I'm..uh, I'm a virgin!"

Before you could look back to see his reaction, Lucifer was on top of you, pressing his knee in between your legs. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle." he chuckled, kissing you softly while tugging at the buttons of your blouse.

Lucifer took his time, savoring the moment when the buttons came undone, revealing your gorgeous skin. He trailed his kisses down, nipping at your neck, down to your chest. He used one hand to gently roll one of your nipples around his pinchers, lightly squeezing and pulling them as he took the other into his mouth. He would circle his tongue around your nipple, ever so lightly grazing his teeth on them and nipping, earning a surprised gasp from you.

He pulled away, gliding his hands down your sides to the waistband of your bottoms, sliding them right off. Drifting his hands down your stomach and dipping his fingers into your underwear, Lucifer used his middle and ring fingers to slowly circle your clt.

pushing one finger into your wetness, curling it before pulling it almost out, then repeating the process until you were ready for another finger. two fingers, then three, then he figured you were ready, not for a fourth finger, but for him.

He pulled his fingers out, sitting up over you. he unbuttoned his pants, tucking his thumbs into his waistband, freeing his touch-starved cock, It twitched, begging to be pleased.

He slid his dick in between your folds, teasing you before putting it in, He pushed against your entrance until he met resistance. you rolled your head to the side, wincing a bit, feeling a tearing sensation.

As resistance snapped, Lucifer groaned, throwing his head back momentarily as he fully entered you. He sighed, "I want to see your reaction, look me in the eyes, Little lamb."

He slowly rocked his hips in and out, raking his hands towards your chest, squeezing your boobs, and rubbing your nipples with his thumb. He trusted deeper into you, causing you to gasp. He chuckled, His hand drifting from your chest to your clit again, using his thumb to rub circles while pounding you into next week.

"Oh, Lucifer!" you moaned without thought, but that only fueled him to vigorously fuck you harder.

He pulled out, flipping you on your stomach like you weighed less than air, he gripped your hips, bringing them into the air before pressing inside you again. "Mm~ you're so tight" Lucifer groaned, leaning into you, reaching deeper than he did before. He thrust in and out, slamming into your G-spot, every time he hit that sweet spot you saw stars.

At this point, you weren't aware of how much and how loud of noises you were making, being fucked numb, heat swelled in your loins, tickling you just the right way. You were so close to finishing, but couldn't quite get there

"Ah, Don't stop, Oh shit, Please don't stop!" You cried out, a panting, blubbering mess.

Lucifer only pushed himself deeper inside you, withdrawing his hand to spank you, slapping your ass then squeezing the area. You yelped when his hand hit your ass, looking back at him with pleading eyes. He smirked at you, proud of how easily he could make you crumble

"I'm so close," he sighed, the room filled with both of your moans and pants of pleasure "Mc, Mc!"

He slammed into you, your legs shaking as you were sent over the edge, feeling waves of pleasure crash into you, before being filled with hot liquid, bringing your orgasm to a peak. you grabbed desperately onto the couch, knuckles nearly turning white as you moaned out Lucifer's name.

After a moment, he pulled out of you, his cum spilling out as well. you both caught your breath for a minute before you sat up,

"Um, thanks for helping me study, Lucifer," you said, blushing, covering your body with your hands.

he laughed "Do you think I'm done with you? Not yet, stay in my room tonight, Mc." He looked at you with those seductive eyes "You're mine, remember?"

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

"Whats that on your neck, Mc?!" Mammon asked, on the walk to school

"oh, um, its nothing, you know humans they're super fragile!" you laughed nervously, hoping he wouldn't realize it was a hickey from your 'study' session with Lucifer.

"Humans are so weak, nothing like The Great Mammon!" He boasted, quickly forgetting what just happened

"sure, humans are fragile!" Asmo laughed, knowing the truth behind the 'bruise' on your neck.

(side note: thank you for enjoying my stories enough to send an ask, sometimes I get writers block and its extremely helpful, I hope this wasn't too short. love ya, Reader, and Anon!)

[psychics4unet]

What is your future spouse hiding from you? The Truth Revealed! 🔮💖✨

I put a lot of effort into this reading, so please show some love by leaving comments, likes, reblogs, and follow me! ❤️💬✨

Paid psychic reading (7 questions for just $7) is available here:

Pile 1: The Fool, The Moon, The Hermit 🌟🔮🦋

The Fool: This card suggests that your future spouse might be hiding a sense of uncertainty or reluctance to take a leap of faith in the relationship. They may be hesitant to fully commit or may be hiding their fear of starting something new, even though they are on the verge of a new chapter. 🌙💫

The Moon: This card points to hidden emotions, confusion, and possibly secrets that your future spouse is keeping from you. There might be things they haven’t fully expressed or truths they are hiding, especially when it comes to their inner world and personal struggles. 🌕🌓

The Hermit: The Hermit indicates that your future spouse may be withdrawing or keeping things to themselves. They could be in a phase of introspection, seeking answers within, and possibly hiding their inner thoughts or unresolved issues. 🧘‍♂️🌌

These three cards suggest that your future spouse may be holding back their fears, emotions, or uncertainties. There could be hidden insecurities, a desire for personal space, or things that they have not yet shared with you. While they are contemplating deep personal matters, it’s important to give them time to open up and share their truth. 🌱🌟

Pile 2: The Lovers, The Tower, The Chariot 💕⚡🚗

The Lovers: The Lovers card indicates that your future spouse may be hiding something related to a past relationship or important choice. There could be a secret from their past that they have not fully revealed or they are unsure about making a significant commitment. ❤️🔒

The Tower: This card signals a dramatic change or revelation that has not yet come to light. Your future spouse might be hiding an upheaval in their life that they haven’t shared with you yet, or they may be afraid of the collapse of something important that they hold dear. 💥💔

The Chariot: The Chariot speaks to the desire for control, willpower, and determination. Your future spouse could be hiding their true intentions or an inner conflict between their desires and actions. They may be pushing forward while not fully expressing their inner struggles. 🏁💪

The combination of these cards suggests that your future spouse may be hiding something related to their past, possibly a major relationship or life-changing event that has influenced them. The Tower indicates that they might be avoiding an emotional breakdown or revelation about something they are still trying to process. The Chariot shows they are determined to keep moving forward but are doing so with hidden challenges. 🛑💖

Pile 3: The Empress, The Devil, The Star 🌸🖤🌟

The Empress: The Empress is a nurturing and caring figure, suggesting that your future spouse may be hiding their deep need to be loved and cared for. They may not express their vulnerability fully, fearing it might make them appear weak or dependent. 💞🌷

The Devil: The Devil card points to hidden attachments, unhealthy patterns, or even addictions. Your future spouse might be keeping a part of their life secret, such as an obsession or attachment that is difficult for them to break free from. ⚠️🔥

The Star: The Star brings hope, healing, and faith, but it can also indicate a person keeping their dreams and desires to themselves. Your future spouse may have aspirations or desires that they haven't yet shared, either because they fear rejection or feel vulnerable about opening up. ✨💫

These three cards show that your future spouse may be hiding deep emotional struggles and attachments. They may have a secret they are ashamed of, but at the same time, they are filled with hope for the future and want to be loved and cared for. While they are working through personal challenges, they may be holding back their full truth, especially when it comes to vulnerabilities and desires. 💔🌟

Paid readings (7 questions for just $7) are also available for more in-depth insights and personal guidance! 🌟💫

[redrose10]

I hope you like it! Thanks for requesting. @suga-nya

<Confetti Cake Crush>

Idol Yoongi x Female Reader. Friends to Lovers

Warnings: Slight amount of angst, insecurities, hints of smut but nothing explicit

Prompts in bold

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

“Take the picture!”, you gritted through your teeth, “This cake is really heavy.” Taehyung was trying to shed to get the perfect shot but he did snap a few photos of you holding up your birthday cake at your “surprise” birthday party before Hoseok came and helped you put the cake on the table. It wasn’t really a surprise because being the executive accounting assistant you knew about all of the spending that went on at the company. When you saw a receipt for a birthday cake to be delivered on your birthday and balloons and a handwritten receipt that said birthday gift for Y/N…shhhh…don’t tell her, you knew it was coming. But it was still thoughtful and nice of them to go out of their way to set this up for you.

You couldn’t help but notice one important piece was missing though. Yoongi. Your best friend. For the last four years he had always been by your side. You hung out after work or before work if possible. Spoke on the one at least once a day. So for him to miss out on your birthday party stung a little bit.

You couldn’t say that you blamed him though. & it was the other way around there would have been no way you would have showed up to his party.

“I like you…like a lot Y/N. I uh I…I love you actually.”, he shyly said to you a week ago. You watched his ears turn bright red before he looked up at you, one of the rare times he held eye contact for more than a few seconds. You wanted to kiss him and tell him you loved him too, that you have for a while to be honest.

But his eyes looked so warm and sweet and loving and you just couldn’t be the one to hurt him so you decided to let him down early before you guys were in too deep,

“I’m…I…I’m sorry. I can’t. I have to go.”, you replied and walked out of his studio so he wouldn’t see you cry. Other than a text from him asking if you made it home safely that night you hadn’t heard from or seen him since.

“Not eating any cake?”, Namjoon asked startling you out of your day dream. “No.”, you laughed, “I saw a bunch of finger prints all over the frosting and I have a feeling they weren’t from the bakery.”, you said pointing at Jungkook and Jin manhandling the cake trying to slice and plate it.

“Yeah don’t blame you.”, he chuckled.

“Have you seen Yoongi today?”, you questioned even though you were already pretty sure of the answer, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“I saw him this morning. Said something about being busy in his studio all day.”

You hummed in acknowledgement.

“I can’t say that I blame him. Getting rejected by one of your best friends no less is pretty rough.”

“You know about that?”, you groaned.

“Of course I know about that. We’re like brothers. We tell each other everything.”

“How is he doing Joon?”, you quietly asked.

“Well.”, he chuckled, “He’s hurt, pretty heartbroken I’d say. I mean getting rejected sucks, but he’s a big boy. He can handle it. But…what I want to know is why?”

Your brows furrowed, “What do you mean why?”

“Y/N, we all know that you’ve had a huge crush on him for a while so why did you reject him when he confessed to you? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to…it’s just been something I’ve been wondering about.”

“I um I just…”, you sighed, “He’s him and I’m me. That’s all. It’s one thing for me to have a crush on him, but knowing he also liked me made it too real. I panicked.”

“What do you mean by that?”, he asked. You hated that he did things like that. He played dumb so that you would have to talk through what you were feeling. You had seen him do it a million times with the rest of the group, but now you were on the receiving end.

“You know what I mean. He’s talented, successful, rich. He’s only dated other idols who are just as talented and beautiful as he is. And I…I sit behind a desk answering phone calls and collecting paperwork and inputting numbers into a system. I’m nowhere near being on his level. What will people think of they find out we’re dating? So I rejected him for his own good. I didn’t want him to regret it one day and then we’ll both be more upset.”

The way Namjoon let out a deep belly laugh surprised you. When he saw your face of anger he quickly coughed and changed his demeanor, “Sorry sorry, but Y/N you should know better than anyone that Yoongi doesn’t care about things like that. He doesn’t care about status or money or what others think. He likes you because you’re you. And you know he doesn’t take something like confessing lightly. So if he told you he loved you that means he really does love you. He’s never told anyone that before.”

Deep down you knew he was right, but it was hard to accept. You genuinely thought you were doing the right thing by rejecting him now so it didn’t end up in heartbreak later, but you were living with immense regret ever since.

“I’m not telling you how to live your life Y/N, but …”, he said reaching over and grabbing a slice of cake with the least amount of finger prints, “You know Yoongi loves confetti cake just as much as you do.”

You got the hint he was giving and took the cake, “Thanks Joon. I’ll take this up to him and maybe have a talk.”

Normally you’d just enter in the code to his studio and let yourself in without much thought. But after the recent events doing that felt strange and that saddened you. You knocked and waited a few moments before knocking again this time a little bit harder. When he still didn’t answer you were a little impatient so you decided to put in the code and enter the studio on your own before you lost the courage you currently had.

“I told you guys I’m busy.”, he grumbled when he heard the door beep without even looking away from the computer screen.

“Too busy for cake?”, you spoke making him jump because he wasn’t expecting to hear your voice. You giggled when you saw him spin around in his chair so fast nearly falling out of it.

“Y/N, wh-what are you doing here?”

You held up the slice of cake, “It’s confetti. Our favorite!”

“Thank you. I’m uh I’m sorry I couldn’t make it. I’m just really busy and have to get this song done by the deadline and…”

“It’s okay.”, you cut him off before he could continue his rant, “I understand why you weren’t there.”

He sat down on the leather couch next to you giving a tight lipped smile, but didn’t say anything.

“Y/N”

“Yoongi”

You both laughed at the coincidence. “You first.”, you said.

He took a deep breath, “Y/N…I’m sorry about the other day. I never meant to make you uncomfortable. I guess I…I guess I just misread some things between us and I thought you liked me too.”

“I do!”, you jumped up before feeling a little embarrassed and clearing your throat and sitting back down, “I mean I do like you too.”

“Then why…”, he turned to look at you, “Then why did you leave like that the other day?”

“Um…well I just thought I was doing the right thing because I didn’t want you to end up regretting it.”

“What?!”, he laughed, “I would never regret anything about you or us.”

“I know I know. It’s just that you’re you and I’m me and I didn’t see us working out in the long run because of that.”

“Mmmhhm I see now.”, he said scooting a little closer to you, “Y/N, I didn’t mean to fall in love with you, but that doesn’t mean I regret it one bit. I love who you are as a person. I love how kind you are and how sweet and thoughtful you are. I think you’re beautiful and smart and the best thing to ever happen to me. I mean all of that. And I can’t guarantee we’d be together forever, but I have no plans of ever letting you go.”

You buried your face into his neck feeling overwhelmed, “I love you too Yoongi.”

You could feel him shuffling around a little bit. “Hey look at me.”, he said tapping your forehead, “Happy birthday Y/N.”

You looked down at the black box wrapped in a red bow.

“I was gonna have Jimin distract you so I could put it on your desk before you left for the day.”

Excitedly you untied the bow and snapped open the black velvet box. “Wow Yoongi. It’s gorgeous. Thank you so much!”, you said handing him the necklace and turning around so he could clasp it around your neck. When he was done you looked down at the sparkly daisy pendant with a smile.

“Oh! Here have some cake!“, you said reaching for the plate, but he beat you to it.

“No, I should be feeding cake to the birthday girl.”

“But confetti cake is your favorite.”

“Yes, but it’s also your favorite too.”

The two of you bickered back and forth while fighting for control of the fork. One thing led to another and next thing you knew somehow the slice of cake toppled over and slid down your face onto your chest leaving a trail of frosting all the way down to your thighs and onto the floor.

“Oh no I’m sorry.”, he giggled while searching for a napkin to clean you up.

“No it’s okay. I don’t mind. I hate this shirt anyways.”, you giggled along with him.

“You could always take it off.”, he said while wiping away at the frosting on your cheek, “Only if you want to that is.”, he added. Both of your cheeks blushed.

Your fingers had a mind of their own as they quickly undid the buttons pulling off the scratchy material you always hated. You sat there just in your skirt and black lace bra feeling very exposed.

When you noticed Yoongi staring at you intently your cheeks heated up in embarrassment even more and you tried to hide your face with your hands, but he stopped you.

“Does it make you nervous when I stare?”, he rasped. His voice deeper than normal.

You nodded, “Yeah a little.”

“Don’t be.”, he shook his head, “You have nothing to be nervous about around me. I think you’re beautiful Y/N. Every single bit of you.”

He leaned over and engulfed your lips into a kiss which you happily reciprocated.

“Do you want to go further?”, he pulled away to ask.

You nodded, “Yes please.”

So he pushed you back onto the couch spreading your legs to make some room for him.

He took the slice of cake smearing more of the frosting all over your body.

Then he licked at the frosting on your skin. First on your chest before moving down to your thighs. His tongue warm and soft and causing your excitement to build.

“Okay princess. Let me make this a birthday you’ll never forget.”, he smirked before undoing his belt.

He leaned in for another kiss before pulling down your skirt and tossing it somewhere in the corner of the room.

His kiss tasted like sugar and cream and vanilla and god you loved confetti cake.

[uselessmoonlight]

Stranger finale

Reader is Telemachus' friend, and when he leaves for his "diplomatic mission" he asks her to watch over his mother. Later, once the king has returned, she stumbles upon an injured Poseidon.

Previous / series masterlist / character sheet

Content specs: she/her pronouns used, afab reader, Platonic! Telemachus x reader, Epic!Poseidon x reader, possible OOC!Poseidon, Polites’ daughter! Reader, unrequited love, blood, fighting, nudity, illusion, possibly more?, trying to avoid using y/n, slowburn, suggestive themes.

“Love? Do you not think that’s too strong of a word?” Ónoma questioned the man.

“I do not, in fact, I think it is not strong enough to describe what I feel for you. It is something I’ve never felt before, not even for Amphitrite when we were still married. The Gods do not feel as humans do, you are well aware of this, do not question my feelings for you again, they are carved into me like a river cuts through a mountain, like a ships cuts through the waves.” The sincerity and seriousness of his voice stunned her.

He had been serious with her before, but it had not been this pressing. She’d not meant to hold her breath an inhaled deeply when she realized. She searched his eyes for any insincerity, but came up with nothing. “Show me.” Was all she replied.

“What?” Five.

“You said you were in disguise, I wish to see you, the real you, so that we may bury all lies told.” She held his gaze as she spoke. A smirk graced his face as he took her face in his hands.

“I thought you wanted me to show my love, not that I’m complaining about this, but I think that would have been way more fun. Though, I suppose this request is way more you.” He winked at her, caressed her cheek, then took a step back. “Whatever you wish, my lady.”

If he was ethereal before, he was something else entirely now. His hair was longer, flowing like waves, but his frame was broader. He seemed to be as sharp as the earthquakes he caused, but as soft as the sea in rest at the same time.

“I accept.” She stated, seemingly out of nowhere. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“What do you accept? My proposition?” He asked, sounding almost giddy while trying to retain a cool exterior. Three.

Ónoma feigned a sigh and struggled to contain her smirk. “Your apology, I accept your apology.” She was having way too much fun riling him up. Poseidon noticed her expression and narrowed his eyes.

“Are you teasing me?”

“Maybe, I believe that’s two questions left.”

“You’re still keeping track of that, huh? Well then, if I have two left, what is the goal of your teasing?” Ónoma recognized the first question to be rhetorical, and allowed him that much.

She took a challenging step closer. The two now breathing the same air, chest to chest. She looked up at him through her lashes and ran a finger down his chest, stopping at the cloth that covered him. “I think you know.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I want you to ruin me, completely.” She whispered. Her voice was soft, but her eyes were bold as she held his gaze. He grabbed her by the waist with one hand, the other holding the back of her head, and brought her impossibly closer. Just the smallest shift would have their lips touching.

“Oh, I intend to, but first, will you be mine?”

“Yes.” She breathed. As their lips finally touched, she felt him smile, and she followed suit.

A/N: Could this have been added to the previous part? Yes. Did I want to be evil and make you wait just a bit longer? Yes.

To the friends of the fic in the taglist, do you want to be added for the works mentioned in the poll in part 19? Please let me know and I hope you enjoyed this series. I might write some standalone fics about the future of Poseidon and Ónoma, I might not. For now, this is my goodbye to this storyline.

Taglist:

@apollos-dodgeball-target @barrythestrawberry041 @darling-eos @doodle-with-rhy @glaciuswduo @hardbarbarianfox @h0ne4bee @isla-finke-blog @keikeiluvyou @missam

@suckerforblondies @trashcannotbealive @visha1965

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hi ! I hope I'm not bothering you. I tried looking through your blog and I didn't find an answer to this question, though I'm à bit new to Tumblr so I hope I didn't just miss it! But I was wondering if you had a headcanon/idea on Harry's reaction if he were to meet his parents/Sirius back in time. You know, like these stories where he is sent back after the war/when he dies and wake up in the 70s/80s ? (Also, your blog is just sooo interesting! I love your ideas)

Hello 👋

And no, i dont think i talked about this before.

Like, this is fic territory, so you can go a lot of ways with this, honestly. It also highly depends on when in the 70s/80s he goes back to. Like, is James still the bully from SWM? Are we going for later in the period toward his death and are generous in his character interpretation? Is the war raging full force already, or is it the first years when no one really knows what it's going to become yet? Is Lily still friends with Snape? After or before Sirius ran away from home?

There are just a lot of details regarding the exact point in the timeline we chose that can really affect Harry's reaction. Similarly, when Harry goes back in time, it can be just as important. During OotP, Harry stops idolizing his father as much, so it would definitely affect how he sees him. Also, if say, it's a Harry in early PoA who goes back in time, he'd be sympathetic to Peter and think Sirius is the traitor. After GoF, I think Harry would react really badly to Peter, etc.

But we're talking post-war Harry (as you mentioned), who, let's say, meets his parents and Sirius at the same age he is, so all of them are recent Hogwarts graduates and full-time Order members who live on James' money in his house. Peter and Remus are also part of the Order, but not living with the Potters and Sirius trio.

I mentioned in the past I think Harry looks like a decent mix of his parents, but the combination of his hair + glasses makes everyone see him more as James. Point is, he looks very obviously like James and Lily's kid. And James, Lily, and Sirius aren't stupid. They're gonna be able to tell it's weird. Especially if Harry appears out of nowhere in front of them.

Honestly, I think Harry would cry a little seeing them alive and well. Post-war Harry would have some concerns about messing with time, but then he'd look at them again and go "to hell with it" and warn them about everything, I think. Like, I think he would just tell them. Especially if it's not post-war Harry, but one at the moment of his death. If he just appears next to a living James, Lily, and Sirius I think he'd have a little breakdown.

I mean, he is tired. He is traumatized, in pain, he just got the courage to walk to his death to save everyone, and here are the people who should've been there to protect him and make sure none of it would happen. The people who died so he wouldn't, and then he had to die anyway.

Like, that's gonna be emotional. It's gonna be painful and joyous. I think he'd think he's dead at first, that this is the afterlife, but when none of them really knows him or what's going on, that would be a pretty big clue he traveled in time (unless he knew he was traveling in time, of course, but that really depends on the fic).

Now, this Harry knows about the Horcruxes, and he knows exactly where all of them are. He's gonna speed run this killing Voldemort business, that would be like, a high priority of his. But I think he'd hesitate about walking to his death again after getting to know his parents and Sirius. At the same time, he'd wonder if he does it, if he dies again, he would return to his own time and Ron and Hermione. Becouse he loves his parents and Sirius, but he also loves his friends from his own time he left behind. The living ones who might now have a better life for what he changed in the past.

Basically, plenty of space for this sort of angst if you want it.

I think he'd end up really weirded out by James, in a way. Becouse, while James would treat him like family (therefore great, James was clearly loyal and treated the people he cared about really well), he would probably not act how Harry always imagined him to. Not that they wouldn't get along, but I feel like they'd have more tension in their dynamic. Becouse Harry knows about the bullying that he even lied to Lily about, but he also just really wants to love his dad. I think, if James really did grow up and become a little less arrogant with war and loss, they would get along better. I think though, even with a younger James, Harry would find him funny when he isn't being too obnoxious.

Lily would also not be who Harry imagined her as, not exactly, but I think they'd get along great. I think they just operate on a similar wavelength and have a similar sense of humor. Harry’s definitely gonna ask her about Snape, too (because he saw his memories already), and I think Lily would really not know what to think of Snape with what Harry tells her (though, you know Harry's gonna sugarcoat it becouse it's his mom and he doesn't want her to be upset).

And I low-key think a time-traveling Harry who meets a 19-year-old (he was born in 1979, he's a November baby) Sirius would have a little crush on Sirius. Like, the fic doesn't have to go that way, but Harry is likley going to be waxing poetic about Sirius Black’s haughty looks, silver eyes, and elegant black hair throughout the whole story becouse that's just realistic and how Harry is.

Sirius is also the one in this group Harry is closest to (yes, he knows Remus, but he wasn't as close to him as to Sirius, and if Harry met 18-year-old Peter he just might kill him on impulse or ensure he can't betray them again some other way). So Harry would probably still feel closest to him. I also think he misses him the most. I mean, he missed James and Lily all his life, he never really knew them — missing the concept of them is par for the course for him. Sirius and Remus, on the other hand, these griefs are new and so much more painful.

Personally, I like sending Harry back when the Mauraders (and him) are still at school. For more tension with James and so he wouldn't have the solution for the war already in his hands. Also, it could be really fun if he goes back in HBP, so it's after Sirius dies and after SWM. Also, he'd get to meet Snape (the prince) as he writes in the potions book and have a little breakdown over that too, so like, that could be fun.

It's not the most organized, becouse you can take this premise in many ways, but these are some of my thoughts. Obviously, Harry's reactions really depend on the exact circumstances and what kind of story you want to write.

[ninupi]

Hello~I have a request about Hanma, how would he react to reader getting asked by someone as to why they like Hanma and she answers "well it's cuz he's a bundle of joy!" :D

sweetheart | s. hanma

₊˚⊹♡ tags; fem!reader, mentions of hanma being in a gang (obvi lol), readers friends assuming crazy stuff, lmk if anything else needs to tagged

₊˚⊹♡ wc; 900+

₊˚⊹♡ a/n; im soso sorry it took me so long to get to this but I hope you enjoy </3 also didn't realize it said HANMAS REACTION til like halfway through writing LOLL

"You'll pick me up after classes right?" you ask Hanma as you slide off his bike taking off the helmet he insists you wear when riding with him despite him not wearing one himself. He gives you an unimpressed look while fixing the hair on top of your head. 

"Have I ever not picked you up after class?" you can't help but laugh at the tone of his voice. "I just like to be sure. It would be easier if you just came to class, though. " You give him a hopeful look, hoping he'll finally stop skipping class for once.

He immediately sucks his teeth causing you to roll your eyes "You know that's not my thing babe, I've got other stuff to do anyway" You let out a soft sigh knowing he just means gang-related things "Whatever...it'd just be nice to see you throughout the day sometimes."

He lets out a soft sigh when he sees the way you pick at the strap of your bag and stare at your shoes "C'mon don't be like that y/n..." he says reaching for your hand, holding it firmly while you still refuse to meet his eyes. 

"I'll take you to that new cafe you wanted to go to today if you look at me" he can't help the grin on his face when you look up at him before he even finishes his sentence. "You mean it?" He fakes an annoyed groan causing you to playfully slap his arm. 

"Yeah yeah I mean it, I'll take you" he smiles seeing how excited you are by the news "Ok ok, you better be here as soon as the last bell rings then!" you say to him turning to head through the school gates when you feel his grip on your hand tighten. 

Turning towards him you give him a confused look but he only raises his eyebrows silently reminding you of what you forgot "You're such a sap" you giggle while pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his lips "Watch it or no cafe" he jokinglythreats. 

You only roll your eyes at the empty threat while he brings your hand to his lips and presses a gentle kiss "I'll see you after class" he reassures while starting up his bike leaving you to wave goodbye to him before heading into school.

Once you've made it into your classroom you notice all your friends surrounding your desk talking about something. "Hey guys what's up?" they all look at you a bit wide-eyed at your 'sudden' arrival "Hey y/n…we were just talking."

You give Mai an odd look, obviously, they were talking "Yeah I know…about what though?" at this all of them stay quiet not wanting to talk anymore it seems, you give them all a weird look when your other friend Ayase sighs out "We were talking about your boyfriend."

At this you get a bit defensive, why would they be talking about Shuji? "What about him?" some of the girls cringe hearing the annoyed tone of your voice "No, not like that!" Ayase immediately says causing you to give her a suspicious look.

"Then what?" you question getting annoyed at the shy glances they give each other "It's just…" you give her an expected look waiting for her to finish "I mean why are you with that guy? Seriously? Is he threatening you or something? We can report him-"

"What the hell, he's not threatening me! Where did you even get something like that from?" you question her angrily while your other friends try to do damage control "I'm just asking y/n! He's a well-known delinquent, I've never heard anything good about him I just wanted to make sure you're okay!"

The two of you are now somewhat yelling at each which has gained the attention of other students in the class "Yeah he's a delinquent but he's a good boyfriend, he's never done anything to me or let anything to me!" You watch as your friend tries to find the right words to say. 

"You don't know him Ayase, you just listen to what other people say! And yeah that other stuff is probably true but I don't know that Shuji, the Shuji I know is good to me and treats me right. So who cares if he's a delinquent, he's the greatest guy I've ever met!" 

You feel your ears get hot once you finish talking, not realizing how loud you actually were. Your friends stare at you a bit dumbfounded at your outburst, Ayase finally goes to say something the classroom door opens bringing everyone's attention to it rather than you two. 

"Didn't know you could get that loud babe" Your face contorts into an embarrassing scowl at Hanma's words "Don't mind me though, I just came by to drop this off" he's holding up your lunch that you seemingly forgot with a cheeky smile. 

He softly places it on your desk along with a red bean bun that looks like it's from the convenience store across the street "Also got you this, know how much you love 'em" he winks loving how embarrassed you seem to be. 

"Thanks, Shuji, you didn't have to though…" you mutter now hyperaware of everyone's eyes on the two of you "Anything for my girl, don't forget about the cafe after classes though! Don't want you to be too full to actually try anything" he teases ruffling the top of your head before leaving. 

You keep your eyes on the packaged bun on your desk too embarrassed to meet your friend's eyes "You were right y/n, he seems like a great guy" You look up to see your friends giving you teasing smiles. You can feel all your annoyance come back at once "You guys suck!" 

[crowbotss]

I forget if I already sent this ask or not but do you have a favorite Transformers dynamic between characters that you wish showed up more often in canon and/or in the fandom?

Hello anon! No, I do not recall getting any asks of the sort before, but thank you for asking nonetheless.

As for your question, I've two dynamics I absolutely crave, in fanon and canon. Number one of all time is my darling little shitstarter lambo twins!

First of all, why is it the case that, ever since the g1 cartoon and the comics, has Sunstreaker been completely left out of most canon transformer media? Sideswipe's popped up a good few times since (Armada, RiD2015, Bay movies), but they always leave Sunny out of it for whatever reason. They're a set and shouldn't be seperated :<

Maybe I'm biased because I'm a twin and a giant Sunstreaker fan, but I really wish hasbro would pick their whole dynamic back up in some mainline property (I don't even care if they're side characters, I'm desperate). They've charmed me ever since I watched the g1 cartoon, and I've always get so disappointed whenever I see Sideswipe somewhere without his brother (they don't even elude to him being somewhere off-screen or anything, he simply doesn't exist!).

As for fanon Sunny and Sides, I'm glad that fandom picks up some slack from all the lack of Sunnys, but I also feel like we could do with more Sunny&Sides-centric fanfics that aren't, ah, incest porn. Also, the commonly-referenced 'twin-bond' is very very interesting, along with their general backstory as gladiators in Kaon like Megatron. Combined with the mild consensus among fans that Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are some of the youngest Autobots, I feel like there's just so much you can do with these characters--but unfortunately, since they hardly show up in any official properties anymore, they aren't the most popular subject of fan-content.

EHEM, enough about my favorite condement-colored duo, my second pick for my favorite underrated dynamic is Starscream and Sunstorm.

I would love more of Sunstorm and. . . well, anyone (hasbro has a habit of fridging any gold-colored character that isn't Bumblebee, I assume), but I think his dynamic with Starscream would be the most interesting.

In most continuites he's in, he's a clone of Starscream, but also happens to act nothing like him most of the time (prolly due to a combination of being raised in a tube and subsisting himself primarily on religious delusions). Throw in an 'unwilling cloning experiment' spin on Starscream's part and I feel like we've got the ingredients for the world's most interesting family(ish) dynamic.

For this to even have a chance of coming to pass in canon though, hasbro would have to let Sunstorm out of the basement they locked him in and they'd have to let Starscream get within 100 feet of an interesting character arc, so chances are slim.

Fanon, however. . . the scant few media I can find focusing on Starscream and Sunstorm are always superb, but just like with Sunstreaker, I feel like there's always so little content with Sunstorm in it simply because people forget he exists, which is a shame. I love my strange radioactive catholic son.

Anyways, done rambling! Hope this answered your question fine enough.

Some underrated dynamic honorable mentions: Starscream & Optimus/Orion (In my heart of hearts I cannot let Starop go), Starscream & Prowl (I've read two [count em, two] very good fics with Prowl&Starscream interactions and they haven't left my brain since), and the Aerialbots & Stunticons (more media should focus on the fact that they're all newbuilds, for humor and/or angst purposes).