#I hope this is enough to go on for a little bit

[fear-is-truth]

SQUID GAME : HOW THEY EAT YOU OUT

➛ warnings. — oral sex (f!receiving) ⋆ dirty talk ⋆ MDNI 18+ ➛ jackie's note. — a bit rushed; my apologies ➛ ft. nam-gyu (124) ‧ thanos (230) ‧ dae-ho (388)

NAM-GYU eats you out like it’s a punishment. like you did something to piss him off, and this is the (glorious) consequence—laid out beneath him, thighs hooked over his shoulders, his mouth hot and unrelenting against you. he doesn’t ease you into it. no teasing, no soft kisses, just his tongue swiping up your slit in one broad, wet stroke before his lips latch onto your clit. sucks hard enough to make you gasp, hands scrambling against the sheets. he smirks into you, barely giving you a second before diving back in, his fingers spreading you open wider so he can work his tongue deeper.

he’s messy with it, too. obscene, really. making sure you hear every wet, lewd sound as he devours you. when he pulls back for air, his mouth is slick, spit and arousal smeared all over his chin. “fuckin’ dripping,” he mutters, more to himself than you, “so easy.” his fingers dig into your thighs, keeping you from squirming away. “stay still,” he orders, and when you don’t immediately obey, he presses a hand down on your lower stomach, pinning you in place. “didn’t say i was done, did i?”

and then he’s back on you, lapping at your clit, the cold metal of his ring grazing your skin as he presses two fingers inside, stretching you out without warning. the contrast—the warmth of his tongue, the ice of his ring—makes you shudder, a broken whimper slipping past your lips. he groans at that, greedy. fuck, he loves the way you sound. “knew you’d like that,” he taunts, fucking his fingers into you faster, mouth working in tandem.

his free hand moves, sliding up your body, and then he’s pressing those same cold fingers against your lips, smearing your own slick over them. “open,” nam-gyu orders. when you hesitate, he grips your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. his pupils are blown, his expression somewhere between cruel and wonder. “be good. taste yourself.” you part your lips, and he pushes two fingers inside, pressing down on your tongue. “good girl,” he drawls, before lowering his head again, tongue curling over your clit in quick, ruthless flicks. your moan is muffled around his fingers, eyes rolling back as heat pools low in your belly.

he can feel it inthe way your thighs tremble. he chuckles against you, low and mean. “gonna cum for me, baby?” he goads, curling his fingers for emphasis. “go on, then. make a mess.” and when you do, legs trembling, the moan breaking into a choked sob, nam-gyu doesn’t stop. just groans into you, drinking in every last drop, lips and chin wet with it. when he finally pulls away, he wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, grinning wolfishly down at you. “fuck… look what you made me do,” he muses, glancing down at the dark spot on his jeans. then he leans in, presses a languid, filthy kiss to your mouth, making sure you taste yourself on his tongue. “hope you’re gonna clean that up.”

CHOI SU-BONG eats you out like it’s his favourite pastime (apart from partying and taking drugs… or both) he’s got you spread out on the thin mattress, legs draped over his shoulders, knees shaking, and he’s barely even started. presses an open-mouthed kiss against the inside of your thigh, then another, dragging his tongue along your skin just to hear that little sigh escape your lips. “what, you nervous?” he taunts, looking up at you with that smug little smirk. “c’mon, señorita, i don’t bite—” his teeth scrape ever so lightly at the soft flesh. “—unless you want me to.”

and then he’s in, burying his face between your thighs like a man starved, tongue flicking against your clit before dragging down, teasing at your entrance, humming like he’s savouring the taste. and fuck, that little hum alone sends a jolt through you. he’s talking between licks, of course he is, lips slick and breath warm against your skin. “mhmm so good, fuck— could eat you for days.” then he moans, a low, satisfied sound as his tongue plunges deeper, and the vibrations make your whole body jerk. he’s insufferable, but he’s so good at it. alternates between deep, slow strokes of his tongue and quick flicks over your clit, gauging your every reaction. “that’s it, baby,” he murmurs, voice thick with amusement. “feels good, huh?”

you nod, or try to, but he’s already got a hand braced against your stomach, pressing you down, keeping you from arching up too much. su-bong looks up at you again, pupils blown open, mouth shining. “say it,” he drawls, before sucking your clit between his lips, tongue laving over it like he’s savouring something decadent. your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging, and he groans against you, rutting his hips against the mattress. “fuck, you’re killing me,” he pants, but he’s grinning, breathless and wrecked. “gonna let me make you come, baby? bet you’ll look so pretty for me.”

he doesn’t stop talking, doesn’t stop licking, doesn’t stop anything until you’re shuddering beneath him, crying out as he works you through it, murmuring praises against your skin because he simply can’t help himself. and when you finally go limp, chest heaving, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning. “damn,” he exhales, crawling up to kiss you, slow and filthy, making you taste yourself on his tongue. “wanna go again?”

KANG DAE-HO eats you out like he’s got something to prove—not in an arrogant show-off way, but in that eager, wide-eyed, desperate-to-make-you-feel-good way. his big hands are warm, gripping your thighs as he presses tender, open-mouthed kisses up the inside of them, he’s savouring you, like he could do this all night and still not get enough. and when he finally buries his face between your legs, he lets out this quiet, needy moan, his breath stuttering against your skin.

eyes flicking up to meet yours. he’s got that lovesick look on his face, cheeks flushed, lips wet. “is this okay?” when you nod, breathless, he smiles—sweet and a little bashful—and then he’s back at it, tongue flicking over your clit in careful, deliberate strokes, humming softly. he can’t stop making little noises, soft groans and breathy whimpers, like he’s the one getting worked up from this. his grip on your thighs tightens every time you let out a sound, and fuck, when your fingers tangle in his hair and tug—just a little—he practically whines against you, grinding himself into the mattress, he simply can’t help it.

“so good,” voice muffled as he presses his tongue inside, slow and deep. “so fuckin’ good, baby…” he pulls back just to glance up at you again, lips glossy, panting a little. “you—hah—you taste…” he trails off, shaking his head like words aren’t enough. and then he’s right back at it, sucking your clit into his mouth, moaning low in his throat when you buck up against him. thick fingers slide into you next, careful, coaxing, curling just right, and the sound he makes when you tighten around him— “please, wanna feel it—wanna taste you so bad—” he pants, pressing kisses to your thigh between kitten licks, fingers never stopping. and when you do—when you arch off the bed, thighs shaking—dae-ho just groans, holding you through it, whispering sweet praises between kisses, licking you through every aftershock. when he finally pulls away, cheeks flushed, he just grins boyishly up at you. “holy shit,” his voice thick with awe. “can we do that again?”

 fear-is-truth 2025 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[servicpop]

short n' sweet ♡ valentines day special　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　adrien ( delinquent oc ) x student president m reader

ⓘ　fluff fluff fluff ! jealous adrien , reader gets confessed to by a girl

A day where cupid strings his bow and aims his arrow at couples is the day you spend the most time stringing up heart decorations around the school. Its only a few small splashes of pink ribbons and red hearts since Valentines isn't a huge thing—some people simply don't enjoy it as much as Christmas or others—but it's a nice opportunity to liven up the school with some fun flare.

For the most part, you can see cheesy couples receive bouquets neatly arranged into something pretty for their partner or love letters being handed out the old-fashioned way. You weren't a big celebrator seeing as you didn't have a romantic partner. Of course the occasional chocolates being given to friends was a tradition you practised when nobody bothered to give you a flower or a sweet confession.

But this year was different.

After finishing the decorations, you took the time to wander the grounds before returning to your councillor room. It was early enough for the walk to be rather peaceful with the occasional wave to people you knew when they walked by. Reaching the room you, place your hand on the doorknob, twisting it until it makes that click before a hand plants on your shoulder.

“Been awhile.”

You turn your head to see him in the flesh. Adrien, with that shit-eating grin. It was completely out of character for him to show up so early—or show up at all. That fact alone sent shivers down your spine. A coincidence that he shows up bright and early on valentines day?

“Bit late but,” Adrien takes a moment to exhale before his eyes meet yours.

“Will you be my valentines?”

You stand there, blankly staring at him. No flowers, no chocolates and certainly no handwritten love letter stamped with a wax seal as you were wishing for. He couldn't have been this unromantic. For all you knew, Adrien was just some ill-mannered guy who weaseled his way into your life thinking he had you wrapped around his finger just because you two 'hooked up' underneath the staircase.

“No.” Short and sharp; unintentional or not. Sure you liked him, a little more than you'd ever wanted to admit, but Valentines was meant to be unrealistically romantic, a day where you can feel like you're living in those old romance films.

“What?” You could hear the confusion in Adrien's voice as he watches you brush past him and slam the door infront of his face, drowning out his complaints through the door.

That whole ordeal in the morning definitely wilted your mood. The entire morning session of classes felt like a drag as if time was purposefully going slower each time you glanced at the clock.

You were probably the first person to leave the classroom when you were dismissed, rushing out to your locker to reunite with your friends in hopes of charging your social battery.

“Hey— prez? I have, um, something for you.” The nickname felt like deja vu, like you've been called it countless times by a certain someone. But it wasn't him; it was a girl around your age or even younger. In her hands was a square, pink box with 'milk chocolate' printed in a cursive font. Her face was flushed pink and it looked as though if she met eyes with you, she'd melt under your gaze. On top of the chocolates was a pretty letter with equally pretty handwriting.

It undoubtedly made you smile even if it was just a little.

You accepted her gift, making sure you flashed a polite smile at her before watching her scurry off like it had been the hardest thing of her life to come up to you like that. It was charming in a way. You skimmed the letter which was mainly just her stating her appreciation for you and how she wanted to get to know you better with her name signed at the bottom with a small heart next to it.

A few of your friends who had just made it out of class had witnessed the whole scene, patting your back and pawing at the chocolates like hyenas. It wouldn't hurt to share the love, especially when your friends seemed like they'd die without sugar.

You let them all take one before sealing the box and placing it in your locker for later, you pocketed the note just so you didn't accidentally lose it or have it slip out.

Come to think of it, the more the day went by, the more you noticed a lack of Adrien. Usually he'd make an appearance by now, whether that was to stare at you with a smirk while you walked by eachother or to 'accidentally' brush your arm on any opportunity he got.

You made nothing of it though, it was probably because he thought today was boring—given all the couples would boast their affection towards eachother in the hallways—and decided to skip. It was typical of him to do so. But it still weighed in your mind all the way until the home bell rung.

Your locker was the last stop before you could go home, opening the metal door to see that your box of chocolates were gone; replaced.

Godiva chocolates in the shape of a heart, a letter sealed in an envelope, and a bouquet of flowers that look strangely like the ones from the school garden was neatly arranged in your locker.

“Do you like it?” You practically jump out your skin as your turn to see the man you haven't seen the while day.

“You put this here?” You ask, looking back at the gifts stuffed in your locker.

“Who else would— nevermind don't answer that.” You could tell from the furrowed set of his eyebrows that he was pissed off about something, like it bothered him enough to replace the chocolates you were given.

“I thought that maybe you didn't like how forward I was this morning.” It was one of those rare occasions where Adrien wouldn't have that cocky look on his face or that teasing lilt to his tone. He wore an almost shy expression, like he wasn't used to giving gifts this romantic.

“Seeing as you liked that girl's gift so much.” You could hear the venom roll off his tongue when he said that.

You glance down at what Adrien gave you. Godiva wasn't a cheap brand and those flowers would probably have taken Adrien awhile to personally pick and choose the ones you liked to plant in the gardens. Your heart flutters at the thought that maybe Adrien was gone the whole day because he was trying to pick up gifts for you, all cause he felt a little guilty.

“I know its over the top but—” “I like it.”

He pauses and stares down at you like its the most baffling thing in the world to hear you say 'I like it.' You look up at him, and you can't hold your smile back—this time, you smile wholeheartedly.

“Thanks, Adrien,” You look both ways to see if anyone was watching and you lean up to kiss just shy of his lips on the corners of his mouth. It was a quick peck as you almost instantly pulled back to pack up your things and walk past him.

He stands there, frozen in place before his own fingers touch his face, grazing over the spot you kissed him at.

There's a sharp bang of his fist against the neighbouring lockers as he internally crumbles, holding his face like he needed to shield what was left of your fleeting kiss.

A victory perhaps?

a / n ; dividers made by anitalenia , and the gift graphics are made by my dearest anby !

[unabletonotlovesatoru]

.°⋆🖇₊˚ෆ 𝑶𝑯 𝑯𝑼𝑺𝑩𝑨𝑵𝑫, 𝑴𝒀 𝑯𝑼𝑺𝑩𝑨𝑵𝑫 !!

. . . or how they react when you call them your husband.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ teddy’s notes: hey guys!!! kind of a new format here, i hope you like this <33 no warnings, just pure fluff and some mild suggestiveness. enjoy!

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ nanami kento;

it’s a quiet evening, one of those rare nights where the world slows down just enough for you and nanami to breathe. he’s sitting at the kitchen counter, sipping on his coffee, his glasses low on his nose as he reads through some paperwork. the soft glow of the lamp casts a warm light across his features, and you can’t help but smile to yourself.

“hey, husband,” you say, the words slipping out before you can really think about them.

nanami’s hand stills mid-sip. his eyes flick up to meet yours, the surprise clear in his gaze before his expression softens. the corner of his mouth tugs up ever so slightly, but it’s enough to make your heart skip.

“what did you just call me?” he asks, voice lower than usual, and you can see the shift in him—the way his shoulders relax, like the simple word has settled something deep inside him.

“husband,” you repeat, grinning a little at the effect it’s clearly having on him. “you know, because you’re mine.”

nanami places his mug down with a little more force than necessary, his gaze locked on you now, and for a moment, you think he might say something—something serious, maybe—but then he just shakes his head with a small, amused sigh.

“you’re lucky you’re so cute,” he mutters, standing up and walking toward you. his hands find your waist, pulling you closer, and you can feel his breath against your forehead as he leans down.

“because i’m not sure i’m going to survive being called that,” he whispers, his voice a little strained.

you laugh softly, your arms wrapping around his neck, and nanami presses his lips to the top of your head, lingering there for a moment.

“my husband,” you say again, just for the thrill of seeing the way he melts every time.

this time, when he pulls back, his smile is full-blown, and you can practically see the little spark in his eyes. “don’t do that to me, or we won’t make it to the couch.”

you laugh, tugging him closer, because you know exactly what you’re doing—and honestly, he isn’t worried about it at all.

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ gojo satoru;

it’s a lazy afternoon, the kind that stretches on forever with no real plans except being near each other. gojo is lounging on the couch, wearing his usual smirk as he scrolls through his phone, while you’re curled up beside him, reading a book. the soft hum of the room and his occasional teasing glances are enough to make you feel like you’re in your own little bubble.

you’re halfway through a page when you glance at him, the words slipping out before you even realize what you’re saying.

“hey, husband,” you murmur casually, not expecting any reaction.

gojo freezes. his finger stops scrolling, and for the first time in a while, he looks at you with a completely genuine expression—no teasing, no smirks, just raw surprise in his eyes.

“what did you just call me?” he asks, his voice low, almost too calm, and you can see the hint of something dangerous flicker in his gaze.

you look up from your book, blinking innocently. “husband,” you say again, this time a little slower, emphasizing the word as you let it hang in the air. “because you are, don’t you know that?”

you watch as gojo’s lips part slightly, like he’s trying to process the word and what it means coming from you. his usual smugness is gone, replaced by something softer, a bit shaken, and it makes your heart skip a beat.

“you just…” he starts, but his words trail off as he stares at you, his expression too focused. then, without warning, he’s up on his feet, his hands grabbing your shoulders, pulling you up to face him.

“say it again,” he breathes, his tone a mix of disbelief and pure want, like he’s hanging on every syllable.

you can’t help but grin. “husband,” you say again, this time with a little more emphasis, and that’s all it takes.

gojo’s eyes darken in an instant. his hand reaches for your chin, tilting your face up to meet his as he leans in, his lips brushing yours in the softest, most desperate kiss. it’s nothing like his usual teasing or showy affection. this is pure, raw, and filled with a level of emotion that makes your heart race.

when he pulls back, he’s breathing hard, his fingers tracing the side of your face like he’s trying to memorize the moment. “i think you’re gonna kill me, you know that?” he mutters, his voice husky, eyes still searching yours.

you smile, softly, knowing that you’ve completely undone him—and that’s exactly how you like it. “sorry, husband,” you tease, your fingers gently brushing through his hair.

he groans, leaning his forehead against yours, the smile he can’t hide slowly spreading across his face. “god, i love it when you call me that.”

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ toji fushiguro;

toji doesn’t react to many things, not in the way most people would expect. his life is full of chaos, violence, and uncertainty, but he’s always been the type to keep a level head. nothing shakes him. nothing surprises him.

but when you say it—husband—his whole world tilts.

it happens as you’re standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter while you chat with him. you’re discussing plans for the day, your voice light and easy, when you just… drop it.

“well, my husband can take care of that,” you say, dismissing the matter, your eyes not even leaving the sink as you dry the dishes.

and boom.

toji freezes. his hand, halfway to his cup, stills in mid-air. his breath catches, but he doesn’t let it show. still, his heart is beating a little faster than usual.

husband.

he swears the word rings in his ears, louder than anything he’s heard all day. husband.

his lips part as if he’s about to say something, but no words come out. he clears his throat, finding his voice a little rougher than he’d like.

“did you just say…?” his voice is lower than usual, darker, like he’s trying to figure out if he’s imagining things.

you glance up at him, blinking innocently, like you’ve said nothing extraordinary. “huh?”

he steps closer, his gaze unwavering, but there’s a glimmer of something new there—something raw, something that cracks his usual calm.

“husband.” his voice is a little rougher now, the word hanging in the air.

you laugh softly, but there’s that playful glint in your eyes. “yeah, that’s right. you’re my husband, aren’t you?”

toji’s chest tightens, a low growl escaping him as a smile creeps onto his lips. fuck.

“you can’t just say that so casually,” he mutters, voice laced with something dangerously close to satisfaction. “makes me wanna drag you off to bed every damn time.”

you raise an eyebrow, teasing. “oh? is that so, husband?”

he steps forward, now inches from you, his usual intimidating presence only amplifying. “damn straight.” his hands grip the counter on either side of you, caging you in, as his voice drops into a low murmur. “you’re gonna make me lose my mind, y’know that?”

and just like that, the man who rarely loses his composure, is falling apart—and it’s all because you called him your husband.

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ sukuna ryoumen;

the air is thick with tension, but in that moment, everything feels still. sukuna lounges in his usual spot, perched with an air of arrogance that would intimidate anyone else—but not you. you’re sitting across from him, teasing him with a casual smile as you scroll through your phone.

suddenly, you glance up at him and, without thinking, the words slip out—perfectly natural.

“hey, husband,” you say, your voice light, casual, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

time stops. sukuna’s sharp eyes snap to you, narrowing in disbelief as his posture shifts, something flickering in the intensity of his gaze. he freezes, his usual confident sneer falling away just enough for you to notice.

“what did you just say?” his voice is low, controlled, but there’s an edge to it now—something that wasn’t there before.

you blink, catching the shift in his demeanor. “husband,” you repeat, your tone playful. you’re not sure why you said it, but now that the words are out, you’re curious to see his reaction. “you know, because you are, aren’t you?”

sukuna’s eyes darken, the way his mouth twitches betraying the storm brewing beneath the surface. he stands slowly, his movements deliberate and precise, as if he’s trying to contain the surge of emotion that’s caught him off guard.

he closes the distance between you with a single step, and you’re already regretting your teasing. but then, he’s right in front of you, his hand cupping your chin with a grip that’s firm but not painful.

“you think you can just… say that to me?” his voice is gravelly now, laced with something darker, more possessive. there’s no hint of the cold detachment he usually carries—just raw, simmering intensity that makes your pulse quicken.

you swallow, looking up at him with a playful smile. “why not? you’re mine, after all.”

sukuna’s expression shifts—just slightly, but enough to make your heart race. he’s flustered. you almost can’t believe it.

without warning, he pulls you into him, his lips crashing against yours with a hunger that’s almost feral. you gasp into the kiss, your mind reeling as he deepens it, his hand threading through your hair with an urgency that makes it clear how much he’s affected by those simple words.

when he finally pulls back, his breath is heavy, and he’s staring at you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. “husband?” he repeats, his voice hoarse now. “you really think you can call me that and not expect consequences?”

you grin, looking up at him through your lashes. “well, if you’re my husband, then I guess you’re stuck with me.”

sukuna smirks, but there’s a flicker of something softer in his eyes, something that makes you feel like you’ve won—this battle, at least.

“god help you.” he mutters, but his fingers brush gently against your cheek, and you know you’ve completely undone him.

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ geto suguru;

it’s a quiet evening, the kind where everything feels too perfect, too serene. you’re sitting on the couch, tucked into the warmth of geto’s side, with a book in your lap. he’s absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair, his other hand loosely holding his phone, but his attention is clearly more on you than anything else.

in a comfortable, almost lazy moment, you glance up at him, a soft smile curling at your lips.

“husband,” you say lightly, the word just slipping out as you continue to flip through the pages of your book.

geto’s entire body tenses, and for a split second, you wonder if you said something wrong. his gaze snaps down to you, and there’s something… off about the way he’s looking at you.

“what did you just call me?” he asks, his voice so smooth, so calm, but there’s a flicker in his eyes that betrays his sudden shift in mood.

you blink up at him, a little surprised. “husband,” you repeat, glancing at him with an innocent smile.

the change is immediate—his phone is forgotten, dropped carelessly to the side as he turns toward you fully, eyes darkening with something far more intense than just the usual affection.

“don’t say that again unless you’re ready for me to do something about it,” geto says, his voice dangerously low, though there’s a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

you raise an eyebrow, unbothered by the sudden shift. “why? what are you going to do, hmm?”

the playful challenge in your voice makes his restraint snap. he pulls you to him in one fluid motion, pressing his lips to your forehead before trailing them down to your jaw, whispering in a tone that makes your heart race, “i’m going to make sure you never forget who your husband is.”

his hands find their way to your waist, and you can feel how he’s trying to hold himself back, his breath shallow as he searches your face for any sign that you’re joking. but there’s nothing in your eyes but genuine affection, a little teasing, and definitely not a hint of regret.

he groans softly, pressing his forehead against yours, breathing you in like he’s just discovered his favorite scent. “you’re killing me, you know that?”

you laugh, fingers brushing against his chest. “well, husband, looks like you’re stuck with me.”

he chuckles darkly, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips. “you have no idea what you’ve just started.”

but as he pulls you closer, as his lips finally claim yours in a kiss that’s slow and deep, you know he wouldn’t want it any other way.

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ higuruma hiromi;

the courtroom is silent, the weight of the day’s cases heavy in the air. but you and higuruma are taking a small break in his office, your presence calming after the whirlwind of legal battles. he’s sitting behind his desk, scribbling notes, but every now and then, his eyes drift to you, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he watches you read through a document.

you look up at him, the word slipping from your mouth without any hesitation.

“husband.”

his pen freezes mid-air. for a few seconds, it feels like the world pauses. his eyes widen, and his face flushes, a deep crimson spreading across his cheeks.

you blink, a little confused by his reaction. “husband?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow as you try to gauge his response.

higuruma clears his throat, his hand awkwardly adjusting the pen, as if he can’t quite focus on anything other than what you just said. “wait, you… you just called me—”

“husband,” you say again, this time with a grin.

he blinks rapidly, his mind clearly racing, and you can see the subtle shift in his demeanor. the normally composed lawyer seems completely rattled, and it only makes you want to tease him more.

“you—you’re calling me your husband?” he asks, his voice shaking just a little, like he’s struggling to believe it.

you nod, your smile widening as you slowly rise from your seat and walk toward him. “yeah, you’re my husband.”

higuruma’s breath catches, his eyes locked on you with an intensity that catches you off guard. before you can fully process it, he stands quickly, moving toward you in one swift motion, as if your words just completely shattered the calm exterior he always presents.

“god,” he mutters, his voice low and trembling as he pulls you into him, his arms wrapping around you tightly. “i wasn’t ready for that. you—you really just called me your husband.”

you giggle softly, feeling the way his heart beats rapidly against your chest. “well, you are my husband.”

“and here I thought I was the one who needed to keep it together,” he chuckles, but there’s a warmth in his voice that makes your heart flutter. “you just—”

he pulls you closer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “you just made me fall even more in love with you.”

you smile softly, your fingers gently brushing his cheek as you look up at him, your eyes meeting his with the kind of tenderness that only comes from the two of you together.

“higuruma,” you say, your voice teasing. “you’re mine. husband.”

and with that, he loses it all over again, pulling you into a kiss that feels like everything he’s been holding back is finally pouring out.

[pbaz7]

FLIGHT 2136: PART 1

paige x azzi

word count: 4.7k

A/N: This is me attempting to continue a story that someone else started so there’s a little bit of 1st person at the beginning. The two of them don’t know each other in this universe 🫣 Let me know what you think and leave live reacts and comments if you can 🫶🏼

—————————————————————————

1st Person POV - Tuesday

The morning light filtered through the windows of Ronald Reagan National Airport, casting a golden hue over the terminal. I walked with an easy confidence toward my gate, the faint smell of coffee lingering in the air from the small kiosk in the corner.

My Delta flight to Hartford, Connecticut, was set to depart soon, and while most travelers shuffled impatiently in their boarding groups, I moved at my own pace, having the quiet privilege of a first-class ticket.

I wasn’t nervous for the trip to Harford. I never got nervous.

Traveling was second nature to me, and today was no exception. Adjusting the strap of my carry-on, I took a quick glance at my phone. Still good. The game wasn’t until Thursday, which meant I had more than enough time to settle in–explore Storrs a little before tip-off.

“Flight 2136 to Storrs, now boarding.”

As the flight crew called for first-class boarding, I stepped forward, handed over my ticket, and was waved through without a second glance. Within seconds, I was making my way down the jet bridge, the cool air-conditioning of the plane a nice contrast to the warmth of the terminal.

Seat 2A. Window. Perfect

I slid into the seat, stretching out with an appreciation for the extra space. The quiet hum of boarding announcements and the occasional shuffle of bags filled the cabin, but I was content. This was going to be a good trip. I’m making the right decision.

A movement beside me caught my attention. Someone slipped into the seat next to mine with an easy kind of grace. At first, I didn’t think much of it, but when she settled in, a sense of familiarity stirred in my chest, so I glanced over slightly.

Azzi Fudd. That’s ironic.

UConn’s star shooter. One of the most talented shooting guards in the country.

For a brief second, I considered saying nothing–letting her exist in peace for the duration of the flight. But then, why would I? Hesitation had never been my thing.

I turned toward her, offering a small but confident smile. “Good morning.”

She glanced over, her expressions polite but neutral, clearly used to traveling alone. “Good morning.”

Leaning back, I let my posture speak for itself–relaxed and effortless. “What’s got you flying to Connecticut on this random Tuesday?”

She let out a soft chuckle, as if the answer should have been obvious. “I go to school there. Was visiting family for a few days.”

I nodded, letting the moment stretch just enough to spark curiosity before adding, “I’m flying in for the game on Thursday.”

This caught her attention. Her head tilted slightly, and she gave me a curious look.

I let the silence linger, enjoying the moment before saying. “I hope you have a great game, Azzi Fudd.”

A small, almost shy smile crossed her lips, her guard lowering just a fraction. “You know who I am?”

I held her gaze. “Yeah, I know who you are.” Then I smiled softly.

She studied me for a second longer, as if trying to piece something together, before letting out a quiet chuckle and turning her attention forward.

Still, I could tell she was thinking about our exchange. I’d seen that look a few times before–the subtle mix of curiosity and amusement. The kind that said, Who is this person?

Which is nice. Something about her not recognizing me made me smile internally. Made a lot of questions fly through my head.

The flight attendants moved through first class, offering pre-departure drinks. I opted for water and Azzi did the same. The cabin was filling up quickly, the sounds of rolling luggage, hushed conversations, and the occasional overhead bin slamming shut blending into the usual pre-flight chaos.

As the final passengers trickled in, I glanced at her again. She was settled comfortably, dressed in a UConn hoodie and joggers, her hair pulled back. Even here, in an airport, getting ready to go 30,000 feet in the air, she carried herself like a top athlete–poised, confident, focused.

Eventually the engine rumbled to life as we pushed back from the gate. I kept my gaze ahead, but I could feel her sneaking quick glances in my direction, still trying to figure me out.

Finally, she spoke.

“So, are you a UConn fan, or…?”

I smirked, turning toward her just slightly. “I just respect greatness.”

She let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “That’s not really an answer.”

“Sure it is.” I leaned back in my seat. “I appreciate good basketball. UConn typically plays good basketball.”

She considered my words, then nodded, satisfied with my response–for now.

“You from Connecticut?” she asked, shifting slightly to face me better.

“Nope.”

She raised an eyebrow. “So you’re flying in just for the game?”

I nodded. “Yeah something like that.”

“Must be a big game for you to make the trip.”

I shrugged. “It’s basketball and it’s UConn. It should be a good game. Why shouldn’t I?”

She smiled again, this time more openly. “I like that answer.”

I smiled softly, letting my gaze linger for a moment longer before looking away.

The plane started its ascent, leveling off the ground. So I pulled out my phone, flipping through my playlist, but I could feel her still looking at me, still wondering.

I let the silence stretch a little longer before glancing at her. "You always sit next to people who know exactly who you are, or am I just lucky?"

Azzi laughed at that, shaking her head. "This is definitely a first."

"Glad I could make your morning interesting."

She tilted her head slightly, as if she was debating something, then asked, "So what's your story? You a journalist? A scout? Former player?"

I chuckled. "You tell me. What do I look like?"

She squinted, pretending to analyze me. "Hmm... not a journalist. You don't have that nosy energy and you aren’t leading the conversation much."

I smirked. "Good start."

"Not a scout either. You're too relaxed."

"Keep going."

She tapped her fingers on the armrest. "Former player?"

I gave a small shrug. "Something like that."

Azzi gives me a curious look so I simply add, “Tore my ACL.”

Azzi nods at this, a few thoughts flickering across her face, before she decides to be satisfied with the answer, even though I hadn't really given her a complete one.

For a while, we just sat there, the quiet hum of the plane filling the space between us. It wasn't an awkward silence-it was comfortable, like two people who had met at just the right time, in just the right way.

Eventually, she glanced over again. "Since you know who I am, do I get to know who you are?”

I turned toward her, meeting her gaze with a confident ease. "You'll figure it out."

She let out a breath of laughter, shaking her head. "Mysterious huh."

I grinned. "I try."

She didn't press further, but I could tell she wanted to. Instead, she leaned back in her seat, arms crossed loosely, a thoughtful look on her face. The rest of the flight stretched ahead of us, and something told me this conversation was far from over.

The flight had settled into a steady hum, the initial rush of takeoff giving way to a quiet cruise above the clouds. I let my head rest lightly against the seat, simply watching the muted sunlight filter through the window as I got lost in my thoughts.

After a while, I reached into my bag and pulled out a book, flipping it open to where I’d left off. The familiar weight in my hands was comforting, and I easily lost myself in the rhythm of the words.

A few minutes passed before I felt it–that subtle sensation of being watched. I didn’t reach right away, just kept reading, letting the moment stretch. But sure enough, when I shifted slightly, I caught Azzi glancing at the pages from the corner of my eye.

I turned another page, pretending not to notice, until she finally spoke.

“Not many people our age read these days.”

A small smirk tugged at my lips as I glanced up, amusement flickering in my eyes. “Our age?”

Azzi shrugged, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “Yeah. You carry yourself a certain way. Too confident to be young, but definitely not old.”

I chuckled at that, licking my slightly dry lips before I titled my head. “Twenty-two.”

Azzi nodded, like she had just proven a point. “Exactly.”

Something about the way she said it–so certain, so sure–made me grin. I let the moment linger for a beat before turning back to my book, the words on the page suddenly a little less interesting than the person sitting next to me.

Azzi had gone quiet again, but I could tell her mind was still turning.

She was debating something, mulling it over like a question she couldn’t shake. I went back to my book, letting the silence settle, but it didn’t last long.

“Okay, I’m sorry—I can’t help it,” she finally said, exhaling a quiet laugh. “I need some more answers from you.”

I arched a brow, slightly amused at her behavior, before slipping my bookmark into place and setting the book down on my lap. Adjusting slightly, I leaned against the window, fully turning my attention to her now.

Azzi met my gaze for a brief moment, her brown eyes flickering with something unreadable when they met my blue ones before she blinked away breaking the eye contact as she shifted just enough to regain composure.

“I’m usually not much of a talker,” she admitted.

I tilted my head slightly, a small smile playing at my lips. “But?”

Azzi exhaled a soft chuckle, shaking her head as if she couldn’t quite believe herself right now. “But you know who I am, and you’re flying in for the game on Thursday. That seems like the universe trying to tell me something. Like I should talk to you more.”

I laughed at that. “God works in mysterious ways.”

That made her smile. “So you’re religious?”

“I am.”

Azzi nodded, taking that in, before grinning. “You’re a woman of few words.”

I chuckled. “I’m not much of a talker these days.”

Azzi picked up on that instantly. “These days?”

Her curiosity was sharp, intentional. She seemed to pick up on little things that most people didn’t. I met her gaze again, letting the words settle between us before answering.

“Things kinda just happen in life that change how you used to be,” I said simply, my voice carrying something quieter. Then, with a small, almost nostalgic smile, I added, “I used to be a chatterbox.”

Azzi studied me for a moment, then exhaled a soft chuckle. “I see you’ve opted for more of the mysterious route these days.”

I smirked. “Something like that.”

She hummed, shifting slightly in her seat. “How much do you know about me, exactly?”

That question made me grin. I could tell she was fishing, trying to gauge just how much of her life I’d kept tabs on if any.

“I just follow basketball,” I said smoothly, tilting my head slightly. “I don’t know much about you specifically… if that makes you feel better.”

Azzi let out a quiet laugh, a smile tugging at her lips. “I never said I felt bad about it.”

That made me squint slightly, studying her. There was something playful in the way she said it, like she was testing the waters, waiting to see how I’d respond.

After a beat, I nodded. “Fair.”

Azzi held my gaze for a moment longer, something unreadable flickering behind her eyes before she finally looked away, exhaling softly. She drummed her fingers against the armrest, like she was debating whether to keep pressing or let it go.

I figured she would drop it, but then she glanced back at me. “So, if you just follow basketball, that means you’re a fan of the game itself—not necessarily the players?”

I smirked slightly. “That’s what I said.”

Azzi hummed, shifting in her seat so she was angled toward me again. “Alright then. Who’s your favorite team?”

I chuckled at that. “You want the real answer or the diplomatic one?”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Oh, so there’s a wrong answer?”

“More like one that might bruise your ego a little.”

Azzi let out a laugh, shaking her head. “Now I have to know.”

I leaned back, letting the suspense build for a second before finally answering, “I’ve always been a South Carolina fan.”

Azzi made a face at this answer. “Wow. That’s crazy.”

I laughed. “I warned you.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “You had me thinking the universe was setting something up here, and then you hit me with that.”

I smirked. “Didn’t realize this was a dealbreaker.”

Azzi tilted her head, pretending to think. “I guess I’ll allow it.

I let out a soft laugh, nodding. “That’s generous of you.”

She grinned but didn’t say anything for a moment, just studying me again, like she was still trying to piece something together. Then, finally, she asked, “So… do you still play?”

I ran my fingers along the edge of my book, considering my response. “Yeah. Just not this season.”

Her eyes flickered with recognition. “Because of the ACL?”

I gave a small nod. “Yeah.”

She exhaled softly, like she understood exactly what that felt like. “That sucks.”

I huffed a quiet laugh. “Tell me about it.”

Azzi tilted her head, studying me again. “What position?”

“Point guard.”

She grinned slightly. “Figures.”

I raised a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Azzi smirked. “You carry yourself like one.”

I chuckled, shaking my head a little. “And how exactly does a point guard carry themselves?”

She shrugged. “Like they’re always in control. Always seeing two steps ahead of everyone else.”

I hummed, amused. “Insightful.”

Azzi leaned back in her seat, a knowing look in her eyes. “I have my moments.”

I let the moment stretch between us, then smirked. “You’re not wrong, though.”

She smiled, like she already knew that. “Figured.”

After this Azzi kept the conversation going, steering it effortlessly. She asked about my recovery, how long I’d been in D.C., and what I thought of UConn’s season so far. I answered when necessary, but mostly, I let her take the lead, watching how she engaged—curious, thoughtful, but never overbearing. It was easy, the kind of conversation that didn’t require effort.

At some point, the captain’s voice crackled through the speakers, announcing our descent into Hartford. The mood between us shifted—not awkward, just quieter, like we both knew whatever this was, this easy back-and-forth, would soon come to an end.

The plane touched down smoothly, and after taxiing for a few minutes, the seatbelt sign flicked off. Azzi and I stood almost at the same time, and for the first time, she actually noticed my height.

Her gaze flickered upward, just slightly. Not by much—maybe an inch and a half, two at most—but enough for her to register it. I saw the way she took in the difference, her eyes narrowing just a little before she smirked to herself.

I grabbed my carry-on from the overhead, and just as I was about to step aside, an older woman across the aisle struggled to pull down her own bag. Before I could think twice, I reached up, easily grabbing it for her and setting it down with a polite smile.

Azzi was already in front of me, but I caught the way she paused, how her eyes flicked toward my arm. It wasn’t much, but I knew what she saw—how the muscles, usually understated, tensed for just a second, giving away what I was in fact an athlete.

She didn’t say anything, but there was something in the way she blinked, like she was filing that detail away.

I smirked slightly. “See something interesting?”

Azzi rolled her eyes but smiled. “Just confirming my suspicions.”

I let out a quiet chuckle, grabbing my bag as we started moving down the aisle. “And what suspicions are those?”

She looked forward again, shaking her head like she wasn’t about to give me the satisfaction of an answer. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

I huffed a small laugh, following her off the plane. “You have no idea.”

As we filtered out into the terminal, the steady hum of airport chatter surrounded us. The moment was nearing its natural end, both of us instinctively moving in different directions. I adjusted my bag, glancing ahead when Azzi suddenly slowed, turning back toward me.

“Alright,” she said, her voice light but pointed. “Can I finally get your name?”

I exhaled through my nose, pretending to consider it for a moment before cracking a small smile. “Paige.”

Azzi repeated it softly, like she was testing how it sounded. Then, her smile grew. “Paige.”

I nodded.

Her eyes flickered with something—curiosity, maybe. “Where are you sitting Thursday, Paige?”

I huffed a quiet laugh, shifting my weight slightly. “You’ll see me, don’t worry.”

Azzi let out a laugh of her own, shaking her head. “Mysterious until the end, huh?”

I smirked.

She took a small step back, still holding my gaze. “Alright then. I hope I see you Thursday, Paige.”

“See you Thursday, Azzi.”

I turned first, heading toward baggage claim, but I could still feel her eyes on me for just a second longer before she finally walked away.

3rd Person POV - Wednesday

The low hum of conversation filled the diner, a cozy spot just off campus. The kind of place where students and locals alike came for a quick, unpretentious meal. Azzi sat alone in a corner booth, her food pushed slightly to the side as she absentmindedly scrolled through her phone between bites of her sandwich. She had just finished practice, still dressed in a UConn hoodie and sweats, her legs stretched comfortably under the table as she enjoyed the serenity of being alone after a long day.

The bell above the door jingled as another customer walked in. Azzi didn’t look up at first, too focused on her own space, but a shift in the atmosphere made her glance toward the entrance.

Paige.

Azzi blinked, caught off guard for a second. Paige moved through the diner with the same confidence she had on the plane–unhurried, assured, like she was exactly where she was meant to be. When their eyes met, a small smirk tugged at Paige’s lips as she adjusted the strap of her bag over her shoulder and changed direction, walking toward Azzi’s booth without hesitation.

Azzi leaned back slightly, watching as Paige came to a stop at the edge of the table.

“Didn’t take you for a diner person,” Paige said, tilting her head as she glanced down at Azzi.

Azzi quirked a brow. “And what exactly did you take me for then?”

Paige exhaled a quiet chuckle. “Not sure yet.”

Azzi let out a small laugh at that, shaking her head. She gestured toward the other side of the booth. “Since you seem curious, you might as well sit.”

Paige didn’t hesitate to take the invitation, sliding into the seat across from her. The air between them felt the same as it had on the plane—slightly charged, neither of them in a rush to give too much away.

For a moment, Azzi just observed her. The dim lighting of the diner softened Paige’s sharp features, but there was still something unreadable about her, a layer just beneath the surface that Azzi wanted to press into.

“So,” Azzi started, fingers tapping lightly against her cup, “what brings you here?”

Paige leaned back, resting an arm on the top of the booth. “Needed some food and this was near my hotel. Didn’t expect to run into you if that’s what you’re hinting at.”

Azzi gave her a look. “Didn’t expect, or you don’t mind?”

Paige smirked slightly, neither confirming nor denying. Instead, she nodded toward Azzi’s half-eaten sandwich. “That any good?”

Azzi shrugged. “It’s a sandwich.”

“Helpful.” Paige snorted, glancing toward the menu.

Azzi studied her for a second before speaking again. “So, you gonna tell me where you’re sitting tomorrow, or are you still trying to be mysterious?”

Paige grinned. “Wouldn’t be any fun if I told you.”

Azzi shook her head, amused. “You really don’t give anything away, do you?”

Paige’s smile softened, but there was something thoughtful in her expression. “Not much to give these days.”

Azzi caught that phrasing again—these days. She let it settle between them for a moment before leaning forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table.

“You’re interesting, you know that?”

Paige raised an eyebrow, lips twitching like she was trying not to smile. “That a compliment?”

Azzi mirrored her expression. “Haven’t decided yet.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, leaning in just slightly. “You haven’t decided if you’re complimenting me?”

Azzi opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted when the server appeared at the table setting a water down. The girl gave Paige a once-over, her gaze lingering a lot longer than necessary. It wasn’t subtle, and it didn’t go unnoticed. Paige blinked, raising an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

The waiter, undeterred, flashed a grin and asked flirtatiously, “What can I get for you?”

Paige tilted her head slightly. “I’ll just have what she has.”

The waiter jotted it down, her eyes flicking back to Paige, clearly intrigued. “I’ve never seen you around here before,” she said, voice tinged with interest. “I would’ve remembered a face like that.”

Paige gave a tight, polite smile. “I’m not from here. Just visiting.”

The server hummed thoughtfully, clearly trying to piece something together, before she walked off with a final lingering glance.

Azzi watched the whole interaction with mild amusement, eyes flicking to Paige’s expression. Once the server was out of earshot, Azzi raised an eyebrow. “You certainly have a way of leaving an impression.”

Paige shrugged, leaning back in her seat again, her lips curling up into a faint smile. “Guess it’s a talent.”

Azzi couldn’t help but laugh at that. “A talent, huh? I’m starting to see why you don’t need to talk much... you let people do it for you.”

Paige’s smile softened slightly as she shifted in her seat, taking a moment before responding. “It’s easier that way. Sometimes.”

Azzi leaned back, propping her chin up in one hand. “And what makes it easier?”

Paige’s eyes flicked to Azzi, as if weighing whether or not to answer. There was something about her, something quiet but intense that made Azzi lean in just a little closer, her curiosity growing.

Finally, Paige shrugged slightly. “Not everyone needs to know everything.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Is that your way of saying I won’t get the whole story?”

Paige chuckled softly, meeting her gaze. “I didn’t say that. May it’s just not the right time yet.”

Azzi didn’t push. Instead, she just smiled, amused by the game they were starting to play.

“I’ll be sure to remember that,” Azzi said, leaning back as she crossed her arms with a grin. “Maybe I'll try to get you to talk tomorrow.”

Paige shot her a look, her lips curling into something a little more playful. “Yeah maybe you’ll get lucky.”

Azzi let the words hang between them for a moment, her grin deepening. “I think I like my odds.”

Paige only hummed, picking up her water and taking a sip. “Do you?”

Azzi tilted her head slightly, studying her. “You don’t seem like the type to say things you don’t mean.”

Paige set her cup down, her expression unreadable. “And what type do I seem like?”

Azzi’s gaze flickered over her, deliberate but not too obvious. “Still figuring that out.”

Paige let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head. “That why you keep asking so many questions?”

Azzi smirked. “Something like that.”

Paige tapped her fingers against the table. “And here I thought you were just being friendly.”

Azzi leaned forward slightly, her voice light. “Maybe I am Paige.”

Paige arched a brow, but before she could respond, the waiter appeared, setting down her plate.

“Here you go,” the waiter said, her tone lingering as she looked at Paige with clear interest. “Can I get you anything else gorgeous?”

Paige offered a polite but tight smile. “No, thank you.”

The waiter hesitated just a second too long before finally nodding and stepping away.

Azzi, who had been watching the exchange with mild amusement, took a slow sip of her drink. “You make friends fast.”

Paige picked up her sandwich, glancing at Azzi with a smirk. “You jealous?”

Azzi exhaled a short laugh, shaking her head. “Not even a little.”

Paige chuckled, digging into her food. “Good. I’d hate for that to be another thing you had to figure out.”

Azzi’s gaze lingers on Paige for a moment before she speaks again, her tone smooth but laced with something playful. “So, you’re telling me there’s a chance?”

Paige picks up her fork, raising an eyebrow. “A chance for what exactly?”

Azzi shrugs, pretending to be casual. “For me to get some answers out of you tomorrow.”

Paige pauses briefly, just enough for the words to settle, before taking a bite of her food. “Didn’t say that.”

Azzi watches her, amusement flickering in her eyes. “But you didn’t say there wasn’t.”

Paige smirks slightly but doesn’t give her the satisfaction of a direct answer. Instead, she gestures toward Azzi’s plate. “You done with that?”

Azzi leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. “Trying to change the subject?”

Paige shrugs, blue eyes glinting a little. “Just figured you might be too busy trying to figure me out to actually eat.”

Azzi lets out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “I can multitask.”

Paige tilts her head slightly, as if assessing her. “Good to know.”

They hold each other’s gaze for a second longer than necessary, a quiet challenge passing between them, before Paige finally breaks eye contact to take another bite. Azzi smirks to herself, leaning back against the booth.

Azzi tilted her head slightly, eyes flickering over Paige with something unreadable behind them. “You’re really hard to get a read on.”

Paige let out a soft chuckle, tearing off a small piece of her sandwich. “That’s funny. You seem to be doing just fine.”

Azzi smirked. “Am I?”

Paige shrugged, popping the bite into her mouth. “You tell me.”

Azzi watched her for a moment before shaking her head with an amused smile. “You like making people work for it, don’t you?”

Paige leaned back slightly. “Depends on the person.”

Azzi hummed at that, tapping her fingers against the table. “And what about me?”

Paige didn’t answer right away, just let the moment hang between them before finally saying, “Guess you’ll have to figure that out Azzi.”

Azzi exhaled a short laugh, shaking her head. “You don’t make anything easy, do you?”

Paige smirked. “Where’s the fun in easy?”

Azzi opened her mouth to respond, but then her phone buzzed. She glanced at it, then let out a small sigh. “Alright, I gotta get going.”

That’s when she reached for her wallet, and Paige immediately waved her off. "I got it. Don’t worry about it."

“I can't let you do that."

Paige met her gaze, smirking. "Azzi, it’s a sandwich. Ten dollars won’t kill me."

Azzi let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Fine, but I’m getting it next time."

Paige arched a brow. "Next time?"

Azzi pushed up from the booth, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Yeah, next time." She adjusted her jacket before glancing at Paige one last time. "I’ll see you tomorrow, Paige."

Paige watched her for a second before nodding. "I’ll see you tomorrow, Azzi."

Just as Azzi turned to leave, Paige called out, "Hey, Azzi."

Azzi stopped, looking back with a curious expression. "Hm?"

Paige hesitated for a moment, carefully choosing her words before saying, "I need you to be open-minded tomorrow, okay?"

Azzi’s brows furrowed slightly, intrigue flickering across her face. She studied Paige for a beat, noticing the subtle seriousness in her expression, then nodded slowly. "Okay."

A small smile crossed Paige’s lips. "Thanks."

Azzi returned the smile before stepping back. "Bye, Paige."

Paige watched her leave, tapping her fingers lightly against the table, a thoughtful look settling in her eyes before she went back to eating her sandwich.

[sai-int]

You keep talking about douchebag Simon, so I keep thinking about douchebag Simon, and now I wanna get back at him. Here's my thoughts:

This time you're actually done with his bullshit. He's taken you to yours, fucked you seven ways to Sunday, and left before you even fell asleep, again. You know you could help, could give him everything he doesn't have, but goddamn, there's only so many times one can offer before the other party makes it clear that they don't want help. Simon doesn't want help.

He's just been dragging you along on a string, and now that you've cut it, you want revenge. Definitely not partially to make him jealous so he would long for you like you have for him. However, Simon hasn't told you anything about family or friends, so it's not like you could just go and fuck his dad, but some basic reconnaissance should get results.

It doesn't take but a few batted eyelashes, payments for drinks, and some bullshit story about a surprise for Simon to get the other regulars at the shitty bar Simon frequents to talk. He comes every so often with friends, each with an odd nickname. However, the one that piques your interest is one that's occasionally referred to as 'Captain". Simon does have the military look about him, with all those scars and the way he carries himself, so you assume that his Captain will be the next best thing to a metaphorical father.

You learn that his name is John Price, a perfectly average name, common in all aspects, and get a description of him, tall, bearded, built bloke. Not so average. You bribe the bartender to call you next time he's in and steal him away for a few moments after. You would wait around at the dive yourself, but you'd rather avoid Simon because you don't want to fall into old habits don't want to see his stupid face.

A few weeks later, you get the call. You look in the mirror to make sure your makeup is good enough and you throw on the best outfit you can given the time constraint. It doesn't take long to get to that bar and you make your way behind the building to meet with John Price and avoid the prying eyes of your ex(?) situationship.

The hard gaze and tense posture of the large man fall once he gets a good look at you. You're not a hostile that somehow got their location. You're just a little bird (regardless of weight or height, you're little to Price). Maybe you have a thing for large men who could kill you with one finger, because this man is certainly doing it for you. "John Price?"

"Tha's me." John is surprised you know his name at all. He certainly would've remembered you if you had met before. You must be a clever little thing.

Now, you are inherently a bleeding heart, and as much as Simon hurt you, you can't bring yourself to bring someone else into this shitty situation blind, so you explain the whole situation with him, hoping that for some reason he will help and not rat on you. The plan of course is to pretend to have a one night stand with the captain then pretend to fall in love and date for a bit. Just long enough to rub it in Simon's face that you bagged his commanding officer.

John seems entirely amused. Normally he wouldn't dream of going behind his mens' backs like this, especially not Simon who's been a loyal dog for years now, but he clearly has something to learn if he's breaking the heart of this sweet, whip-smart bird like he is, and said bird just offered a perfect learning opportunity. John never misses the chance to better his men after all, and if he can keep this bird coming back to his windowsill to sing to him, (As he doesn't want to cage the poor thing, that would be just as cruel as breaking her) then that's all the better.

Anyways that's what my brain said, you can do with this as you please. ^-^

holy shit, i don't even think I could put it better than this, but here's my portrayal!!

cw : none, douchebag!simon, simon's a brat, but john's a man

you knew this moment would come.

you spent weeks laying the groundwork, learning the ins and outs of simon’s world. the places he haunted, the people he trusted, the patterns of his life. and now, after all the work, after all the nights spent staring at your ceiling, seething over the way he’s used you.

time to make him feel it. really feel it.

because you were done. done letting him take and take and leave you empty—well, not necessarily empty, he's pumped you full of his seed more times than you could count on both hands. you're done waiting for a man who had already made it crystal fucking clear he was never going to let you in.

and what better way to drive the knife than with the one man he actually respects.

john price. his beloved captain. his commanding officer.

you had expected price to shoot you down the second you'd cornered him in the team's usual haunt and suggested your plan, to wave you off like a foolish girl playing a game she couldn’t win. instead, he just leaned back, took a slow sip of his drink, and smirked.

"he needs a lesson," he’d said, amused. "and you need a bit of fun."

john was impressed, to say the least. you managed to not only pin down when he was going to be at the pub, but also put a name to a face? clever girl, you are. gorgeous one too, and that wasn't lost on him.

which is how you find yourself here, pressed close to john price in the same exact pub, not 3 days later, looking like you belong at his side.

simon had wandered into the pub a while ago, but he had just sat at the bar, not noticing the pair cuddled up in a booth in the far corner of the bar. eventually, though, his eyes wander. bored, in his head probably. then they bulge as they land on his captain and his bird. his big, tender paws are all over you. he makes you laugh, a sound that makes simon's heart twist in a way he tried to ignore. he wipes the stray drops of your drink from your lip with the pad of his thumb.

the weight of simon's gaze is suffocating, burning a hole straight through you, scorching from across the bar. it should make you falter, should make you hesitate, but you refuse to give him that satisfaction.

instead, you lean in closer to price, one hand resting lightly on his forearm, the motion deliberate and obvious.

price plays his part so well, you'd think he was being genuine.

"hope you don’t mind me stealing your attention for a bit," you murmur, just loud enough for simon to hear, voice dripping with amusement.

price tilts his head slightly, eyes twinkling with something dangerous as he brushes your hair back. "not at all, love," he says easily, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "was starting to think i wouldn’t see you again."

you just coyly smile at price, kneading his thick forearms as if to say 'you're so strong'. "you can see me whenever you want, John, you know i'm yours."

price hums, gaze flicking toward simon before settling back on you. "so," he muses, voice a deep, rolling thing, "you never did answer my question, doll."

you blink up at him, lips parting slightly. "what question?"

he smirks.

"this one,"

then he leans in, close, slow, one hand settling high on your thigh as he presses his lips to the corner of your mouth.

not a full kiss. just a taste. just tender enough to get your stomach fluttering.

and that’s when you hear it.

the screech of simon’s chair against the hardwood. the slam of his glass onto the bar counter.

then, low and guttural. he's seething.

"the fuck do y'think your doin?"

the tension in the room shifts, like a current crackling through the air. you feel the heat of simon’s anger, the barely-contained rage simmering just beneath his skin.

but you don’t turn, you occupy yourself with your drink, letting price answer first.

"something wrong, mate?" he asks, tilting his head, voice the perfect picture of calm

simon clears his throat, hand waving awkwardly as he tries to find the words. "that's my girl."

price just lifts a brow. "thought you weren’t interested, riley."

simon scoffs, low and sharp. "you tell me, captain," the title drips from his lips like venom. "didn’t think y'were in the business of pickin’ up my fuckin’ scraps."

you don’t flinch. you don’t even blink. you just exhale, slow and measured, before turning your head to meet his glare

"funny," you say, tilting your chin up. "didn’t realize you thought so highly of yourself"

simon’s nostrils flare. his eyes flick to price’s hand still resting on your thigh, his fingers twitch like he’s dying to rip it away

"y'slummin' it, cap?" simon mutters, but there’s a crack in his voice, a tightness to it, something that tells you this is getting to him.

price just hums, completely unbothered as he throws his arm around you. "nah," he says, tucking you into his side and planting a kiss to your temple. "just doin’ what you couldn’t,"

simon goes still.

"or wouldn't."

his fingers curl into fists, his jaw tics, and for the first time since you met him, he doesn’t have anything to say.

the silence stretches. you watch his chest rise and fall, the way his eyes flick between you and price like he’s trying to make sense of this, like he’s looking for the part where it’s just a game.

you see the moment he begins to believe it isn't, the way his shoulders tense, the way his lips part just slightly before they press into a tight, thin line

and then, just as you knew he would, he breaks. he turns on his heel, returning to the bar and downing his drink.

price exhales beside you, slow and knowing, before finishing off his drink.

"well," he mutters, "that was easier than i thought"

you hum, tipping your own glass back before setting it down with a soft clink

"you were right," you murmur, stretching, letting price’s arm fall from your shoulders to rest against the small of your back. "he’s not gonna forget this."

price lets out a low chuckle, and it feels like honey dripping down your spine. he presses his palm just a little firmer against you as he leans down, voice dropping just for you.

"no," he agrees, smirking. "especially not when he realizes i’m keepin’ you."

your breath catches slightly, just for a second, but price notices, his smirk turning softer, more certain

"didn’t think you were mine to take," he continues, thumb brushing the hinge of your jaw, "but now?" he huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "fuck, sweetheart. i’d be a fool to let you slip away now."

and when he takes your hand and leads you out of the bar, the weight of simon’s absence is nothing compared to the warmth of price’s touch.

douchebag!simon mlist

[cuteandhughesy]

Oh Boy! | Jeremy Swayman

summary: going into labour during a hockey game was definitely not in your and jeremy’s itinerary—but you aren’t about to let that stop you from having this damn baby with your boyfriend at your side.

2.0k

warnings: SFW! pre-established relationship | pregnancy | mentions of labour and childbirth | suggestive dialogue and scenes | read at your own discretion

a/n: based loosely off this request! I changed it a little bit for the story to flow the way I seemed fit—so I hope you love it ✨ the valentines fic will be a one night stand (sorta ;) moment with vince dunn…so get ready.

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you shouldn't of acted so naive. at 37 and a half weeks pregnant, you were in the early stages of labour—and you have been since 2 a.m. it started as the dullest pain, one that was easily brushed off as an awkward sleeping position and a little bit of gas, but as the early morning came, it progressed into a proper pull—like the sensation of a period cramp.

you ignored it, hiding the sensation that came in waves every hour or two with a smile on your face, letting your boyfriend cook you breakfast (pancakes because for your entire pregnancy the thought of anything else made you queasy), and make your favourite decaf ice coffee.

as the evening came closer, jeremey waking from his pre-game nap to begin getting ready—a part of you knew that you were in labour. but another part of your brain was in denial. you're not due yet, the baby clothes haven't even been put away, your parents are still a state over. that's the part of your brain that had you pushing everything away. you were just a little uncomfortable. everything is fine—you're not in labour yet.

your boyfriend stumbles down the hallway, tie hung loose around his neck as he rubs sleep from his eye. your eyes shift to clock above the tv, it's almost 5 p.m. meaning he’s just getting ready to head out to TD garden.

jeremy leans over the back of the couch, hands on either side of your shoulders as he kisses your head. "hey baby."

you hum just as a sharp pain shoots across your impossibly large belly, and you wince. jeremy pauses, rounding the couch until he standing in front of you. "what's wrong?"

you smile, although it's not as wide or bright as your usual one. "nothing." you don't give jermey a chance to question you further, holding out your hands so he can help you off the couch. "just sitting on my foot funny is all."

he doesn't look all too convinced, but thankfully he doesn't interrogate you like he's desperate to do—pulling you off the couch like the 20 pounds on your belly is nothing to him, like you're still only 10 pounds or something. which is nice, because your boyfriend can still make you feel dainty. you love him so much.

at this stage in your pregnancy, jeremy knows better than to question you, especially when you're insisting that everything is fine. so he stays as quiet as he can manage—unless he wants his balls ripped clean off.

once you're standing, jeremy sends you a soft smile. "okay baby, if you're sure." he says quietly, hands resting on the sides of your belly as he leans down and gives you a gentle, sincere kiss. it has your belly swooping pleasantly for the first time today, making you sigh against your boyfriends mouth like it's the first time you’ve been kissed. your heart rate increases even more than usual as jeremy’s thumbs swipe alone your squished ribs, and you feel like you’re on cloud 9.

it seems that the baby agrees, tiny body rolling around in your belly like it's a ride—but soon enough there's a hard kick against your side, followed by another wave of pinching pain. you pull away from the kiss, brows pulling in discomfort.

you don’t want jeremy to ask again, or worry. so you mask the pain by fiddling with jeremy's tie, looping it around itself. "you look handsome in this colour."

jeremy's brows pull questionably, analyzing your seemingly calm face. he sighs gently, just as your nimble fingers finish with his now perfectly knotted tie. "thanks."

another sharp pain shoots across your lower belly, wrapping around your back and shooting down to your pelvis. now you're getting worried—what if something is wrong? what if you're actually in labour? but once again, you're doubting yourself. maybe you're just overreacting. the last thing you want is to pull jeremy from a game because of braxton hicks contractions.

you already feel guilty about having being pregnant during the height of the nhl season—never mind when the baby actually gets here and jeremy is up with you all hours of the night. the least you can do right now is let him play in peace.

it's a few more minutes before your boyfriend is slipping into his dress shoes, kissing your lips once more by the front door before heading to the rink—leaving you and your reeling mind behind.

anxiously, you pace around the house in any attempt to be busy and distract yourself. you put away these few dishes left in the drying rack from breakfast, set jeremy's laundry going, and you even double check the hospital bag—just in case.

your pain is getting increasingly worse, and the contractions you've been experiencing since the early morning are now only 7 minutes apart. it was undeniable now, you're most definitely in labour.

before you totally panic, you send a rather frantic text to danielle coyle, listing your symptoms and contractions times. her response was simple: get to the damn hospital baby mama.

you're going to have a baby. today. suddenly you don’t feel prepared, or ready to have a baby in the house. you’re scared. immediately you start crying, hands shaking and tears blurring your vision as you attempt to look down at your phone screen—danielle’s message starting back at you…taunting you.

your knees feel weak, and it has you pushing yourself to walk over to your exercise ball, sitting down to relive some of the pressure on not only your knees, but pelvis and back as well. you wipe your tear filled eyes, pulling up jermey's contact and hitting the call button before you pass out from anxiety.

unfortunately you're not one of those wags who wants their boyfriend to stay blissfully unaware of labour—as much as you wish you were. you are scared, and in pain, and you need him. now. it could be game 7 of the playoffs and you’d still want jeremy with you.

he picks up on the first ring—he must have his phone connected to his bluetooth today. "what's wrong?" jeremy questions, and you can practically hear the way his face is scrunched in concern. the sound of his car can be heard in the background of the call, meaning he hasn't gotten to the arena yet. thank god.

"jer..." you sniffle, a loud sob wracking through your body. "I-I think-the baby's coming."

despite your wobbly words and borderline hyperventilating, jeremy knows exactly what you’re saying. his breath hitches, and immediately he’s pulling off the road and into some bank parking lot. "I knew something was wrong, honey. are you okay?" jeremy flicks his turn signal on before pulling back out onto the road, back in the direction of home—of you.

"I just want you home." you admit timidly, voice laced with emotion and fear. "i'm sorry that i'm only just telling you...I didn't know what to do."

jeremy sighs, naturally picking up speed until he's borderline breaking the law. "don't apologize, okay. i'll be there soon."

"wait," you cry, hips swivelling on the ball as your pelvis tightens uncomfortably. "please don't hang up."

jeremy's lips pull down at the sheer panic in your voice. he almost feels guilty for biting his tongue today, especially when he saw how much pain you’ve been in since you brushed your teeth together this morning. regardless, he’s happy you’re calling him now rather than after you’re already starting to push. "baby, i've gotta call work. but I promise i'll be home very soon, and if i'm done the call before I get there, i'll call you back."

after a a tiny and sad okay from you, he hangs up, instantly dialing his coach's number. thankfully, joe sacco picks up on the second ring, "jeremy? everything okay?"

"actually joe," he starts, an inevitable smile growing on his face. "y/n is in labour."

much to your relief, jeremy is walking back through the front door only 8 minutes after your phone call ended—slightly breathless and eyes wide—but he’s here. jeremy’s eyes land upon you, still rolling your hips on the hot pink exercise ball, breathing deeply through contractions.

you had just stopped crying, but as soon as jeremy looks at you, the tears start up again. he rushes towards you, holding your face delicately. "hey....hey what's wrong? why are you crying?"

you look like a wreck. hair still not brushed, snot running out of your nose like a faucet while tears stream down your cheeks—not yet out of your pyjamas because for the past month, just getting out of bed was a chore, never mind having to dress the huge stomach attached to you. stupid athletes and their giant babies.

"i'm scared." you tell him, your own hands wrapping around jeremy's wrists to keep him close to you. "ugh! having a baby is scary, jer!"

"it's going to be okay." he chuckles quietly, bringing you into his chest for a hug. and you go easily, falling into the comfort of jeremy's hug while your muscles contract tightly, making your face pull inward, forming a scowl. "you're doing so good already." he praises, words tickling your hairline.

you whine in discomfort, and like he learned in labour&delivery classes, jeremy starts pushing against your hips, reliving some of the pain and pressure on your pelvis. you exhale shakily, eyes flickering up to your boyfriends warm gaze.

there's a small smile on his face despite the nerves he feels in his stomach, because despite all the anxiety and unknown thoughts about having a baby, there’s the upmost excitement about becoming parents that jeremy just can’t not smile about. your eyes say what your mouth can't, a conversation shared just between your and jeremy's locked gazes. it's time.

"you ready to have our baby?"

soon enough your both in the car, hospital bags packed in the back seat and jeremy's hand on your thigh, stroking your skin over your sleep wear as you breathe through intense contractions and pressure.

you're pretty sure the hockey channel is playing through the radio—you can take the man out of the game. the broadcasters begin taking about the absence of the usual bruins goaltender, speculating about his sudden absence, and that's when you reach over and turn it off. the last thing you need is to feel more guilt about having a hockey season baby.

and as if jeremy can sense that, he squeezes your leg and shoots you a look. "there's nowhere i'd rather be right now, baby. okay? we're almost there."

"okay." you breathe, your hand finding his and interlocking your fingers together. "love you."

"love you."

you're quickly ushered into a private room once you check in at the hospital, nurses fussing and checking you over—hooking you up to various machines and getting the room ready for a delivery.

you're 8 centimetres dilated, which isn't surprising considering how long you've been labouring—almost 16 hours now. jeremy is truly your rock through the entire thing, and when it's time to start pushing, he's in full support mode. kissing your head, whispering words of encouragement and holding your leg up while you cry and scream, delivering your baby like it's second nature—which technically, it is.

after exactly 42 minutes of pushing, you give birth to your and jeremy's baby boy. you'll never forgot the way having your new baby placed on your chest feels, and the love that consumed you looking into his brown eyes…the same eyes as jeremy. it was other worldy.

jeremy's eyes watered at the sight, kissing both you and his son in the softest, most precious way. he’s never felt more complete—more hole—than looking at the sight of your baby in your arms. shaky arms covered in various patches and IVs.

you know the next little while will be a great learning curve. between adding a baby into the mix, the hockey schedule and the half painted nursery back at home, adjusting to your new life will surely be a little difficult to get used to.

but you're so damn excited to learn, and even more so that jeremy will be learning with you.

yourusername is with jeremyswayman1

liked by daniellegcoyle, bmarch63 and others

yourusername he’s here 🩵

[27dragons]

fuckit I don't have an actual plot but I can't let this go until I write SOMETHING for @cerealism 's amazing art.

Mob AU because fuuuuuuck me that's too pretty.

The door burst open.

"What the fuck is this bullshit about an extra point off my take?!"

It was Lia, because of course it was. She'd been winding up for an explosion for at least a month, and they'd talked about encouraging her to move on to some other territory but Jayce had begged Viktor to give her one last chance, because he was a total pushover and he knew it.

Sky scurried in behind Lia, still protesting. "...can't just barge in without--" She gave them a chagrined look. "I'm so sorry, I told her you didn't want to be disturbed!" She shot Lia a venomous look, and Jayce knew that if he hadn't specifically told her that there was to be no blood in the outer office, Lia wouldn't have made it this far.

Viktor knew it, too. He graced Sky with a smile. "It's all right, Ms. Young," he said pleasantly. "We encourage input from within our network."

Jayce had been sitting on the corner of the desk, but as Sky backed out, closing the door behind her, he paced over to lean on the back of Viktor's chair by the window. He kept his eyes on Lia, but reached down, dangling his hand where Viktor could see it.

Viktor took Jayce's hand, moving it to press it against his chest. Jayce could feel Viktor's heart beating through the shirt, steady and slow. It was soothing.

"Now, Lia," Viktor said, almost gently, if you didn't know him very well. "Please share your concerns with us."

Lia's lip curled in a snarl. "You can't just decide out of nowhere to take an extra point out of my take!"

"But we did not just decide out of nowhere," Viktor said, reasonably. "Two of your crew were injured on your last job, one of them severely. This is not the first time that poor planning has resulted in injury. We discussed it for some time before deciding to extract the cost of their care from your share. It seemed fair."

"But," Jayce said, "if you would prefer to pay the entire amount in a lump sum, we would certainly be amenable. That would save you the interest," he added helpfully.

"You son of a bitch," Lia growled, "Myk's broken leg was his own damn fault, you can't stick me with that!"

"Jayce," Viktor said, so smoothly that even Jayce might have been fooled if he couldn't feel Viktor trembling in rage under his hand. "Please escort Lia out of the building."

Jayce gave Viktor a bracing squeeze and then straightened. A few steps brought him close enough to wrap his hand around her arm. He was careful, not wanting to hurt her. "Let's go."

Lia made a frustrated, furious sound, and leaned toward Viktor, her eyes narrow. "One of these days, your lapdog won't be here to protect you," she said, low and threatening.

Jayce wasn't touching Viktor anymore, but he didn't have to be to know that the insult to Jayce would have spiked his partner's anger and heart rate. So much for that last chance. "Oh Lia," he said, disappointed that she understood so little. "I'm not here to protect him. Come with me now, or I won't be able to protect you."

She scoffed, shaking off Jayce's hand and still glaring at Viktor. "That's bullshit. I'd wipe the floor with you, Viktor, and you know it."

"I would prefer," Viktor said in icy tones that Jayce probably should not find such a turn-on, "if you did not keep ignoring my partner's excellent advice. But if you would like to challenge me directly, that can be arranged. Jayce?"

Jayce let out a slow sigh. "Yeah," he agreed. Lia was a liability, now. It was out of his hands. "I'll be outside." He left the room, making his way over to Sky's desk and sitting on the edge of it.

Sky glanced up at him. "She challenged him, didn't she?"

"I think he was hoping for it," Jayce admitted. "He's been in a mood all week. He might have provoked her a little bit." He shook his head. "Wish it hadn't come to that, though."

Sky smiled and patted Jayce's hand. "You're such a softie," she teased.

Jayce ducked his head bashfully. "I guess so. I'm just old fashioned, really. I'd rather take a hammer to their kneecaps, or at least take them down fast. Viktor..." He glanced back toward the door to the office, wincing slightly at the sounds that managed to make it through the heavy wood. "Viktor likes to play with his food."

Sky nodded. She'd been with them long enough. She knew.

The sounds were growing softer. "I guess we'll be going home soon," Jayce said. "You can head out now, if you want."

Sky nodded and gathered her things, pulling on her coat and checking the placement of her knives. "Maybe his mood will improve now?" she offered.

"Hopefully." Jayce walked Sky to the outer door and watched until she'd turned the corner out of sight before going back to sit on her desk and wait.

Not too much later, the office door opened and Viktor came out. He glanced at Sky's empty chair curiously.

"Sent her home," Jayce said.

Viktor nodded. "Caitlyn?"

"If you'll pick up dinner, I'll swing by and have her send over a cleaning crew," Jayce offered. "Oh, wait." He fished a handkerchief out of his pocket. "You've got a little..." He dabbed gently at Viktor's cheek until the blood was gone. "There." He left the cloth on the edge of Sky's desk. Caitlyn's crew would handle it. "I'll see you at home?"

"Don't take too long," Viktor said, his eyes glinting in a way that made Jayce's libido sit up and pay attention. Guess that really had helped Viktor's mood.

It was going to be a lovely evening.

What's up jayvik nation

[mytherapyisreading14]

can you write a reader x professor!spencerreid? Reader is a Student & they meet the night before classes start & immediately hit it off😏 iykyk

kinda like aria and ezra from pretty little liars but with much more spice🌶

And the storyline kinda follows them through the semester, pls make it a bit angsty 🤏 BUT with happy ending 🥺🙏

Unexpected Surprise

Summary: You find out that the man you hooked up with last night is your new Professor.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Category: Smut (18+ MDNI)

Warnings: alcohol consumption, sexual harassment, fake dating, age gap, kissing, dirty talk, use of pet names (baby etc.), praise kink, choking, fingering, oral sex (f & m), orgasm denial, spanking, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (don’t do that), dom!spencer (If I missed any warnings, please tell me)

Word Count: 5,8k

Author’s Note: Hey, I hope you like the way it turned out. I was also planning to write a story where they meet before and then find out that he’s her Professor, so your Request came in just in the right time :)

The club is loud, the bass booms through the room and the lights flicker in time with the music. You're at the bar, sipping your drink as you take a little break from dancing. The sweat clings to your skin and you just need a moment for yourself. The air is heavy, mixed with alcohol and perfume and you consider going out to get some fresh air.

Suddenly you feel someone standing next to you. You smell the strong alcohol on his breath before you even see him. The warmth of his body is already reaching you across the room, and you have to lower your gaze to keep him from seeing you rolling your eyes. You know what’s about to happen. You feel his presence, and it's uncomfortable as he moves even closer to you.

“Babe, you look so hot. Do you want to spend the night with me?” The words come out of his mouth sharp and dirty, and he puts an arm around you as if he had already won you. An unpleasant feeling spreads through you and you try to avoid it, turning your body away from him. “No, not interested,“ you say, calmer that you‘re feeling right now.

But he doesn't let go, strokes your back, moves even closer to you and his voice becomes more urgent. “Come on, I can help you relax a little bit." It happens so quickly, you barely have enough time to breathe when you feel a new presence behind you. You turn to the side and see a man standing in front of you. His eyes are hazel brown and his long, curly hair falls over his forehead. His posture is confident, almost a bit protective.

“Let her go. She said no.” His voice is deep and calm, a contrast to the urgent tone of the man at your side. The guy next to you stares at the new man now looming in front of him. You can tell from the look in his eyes that he’s scared. You can practically see how small and insecure he feels as he moves away from you. He mutters something that sounds like an insulting comment, but he quickly turns around and disappears into the crowd again. You breath out relived.

For a moment everything remains silent, only the distant noise of the music can be heard. You look at the man who just saved you. His big brown eyes meet yours, and for a moment everything else around you disappears. He looks incredibly good. Then, realizing he got you out of the awkward situation, you send him a grateful smile.

“Thank you,” you say, your voice softer now. “Can I buy you a drink?” It somehow feels right to make this gesture to show your gratitude. He nods, a small, almost shy smile crossing his lips, and you can't help but notice how charming he seems. “Gladly,” he replies. You turn to the bartender and order two drinks as he sits down on a bar stool next to you.

You hand him the drink and introduce yourself. It’s really hard to stop staring into his beautiful brown eyes. “I’m Spencer. I’m really sorry that this asshole bothered you,” he says. You shrug unimpressed. “Sad truth is, I’m used to it. At least he backed off quickly now, thanks to you,” you say and smile. The night suddenly feels less chaotic as you continue talking to your unexpected savior.

The loud music in the background seems to fade more and more, as if you are immersed in your own little world. The conversation with him feels light and relaxed, almost like you've known each other forever. You've been talking about books for a while now, the two of you found out that you both love reading.

“And what was the last book you read?” you ask with an interested smile as you look at him. Spencer smiles and leans back a little, his gaze becoming thoughtful. “The last book I read was Bare Reflections.”

You take a sip of your drink and grin when you hear the title. “Sounds… not exactly like what I expected from you.” The alcohol creeps into your head and makes you a little braver than usual, so you decide to tease him, “I didn’t think you’d read a book like that. You seem far too decent for that.”

Spencer raises an eyebrow, and for a moment you're not sure if he's irritated or amused. Then he folds his arms over his chest, his posture becoming a little stiffer. "I had to read it for a case we were working on," he says, his voice still calm but now also slightly challenging.

“And what impression do you have of me? Do you think that I might not have interests in that direction? That I'm not able to take control in situations?“ A smile spreads across your face as you feel the tension in the air shift. You can't help but grin. It's a mix of amusement and a little challenge.

“Well, at least not like that,” you reply, looking at him cheekily. “Feel free to convince me otherwise.” And you wink at him, the words sound almost like a game. You see his pupils dilate as he looks at you. A little spark jumps between you. He pauses for a moment, as if considering how to react.

Then his posture changes, he moves a little closer, leans forward and indicates with his hand that you should lean a little towards him. You do, curious to see what comes next. As you lean closer to him, you feel his breath on your skin, and he whispers to you in a voice so deep and quiet that it gets right under your skin. “Let me convince you otherwise.”

-

Your alarm goes off way too early, but you just turn to the side and turn it off. You squint against the bright sunlight shining through the blinds. The last bit of sleep still clings to you as you slowly push yourself up and put your head in your hands. It takes a moment but then the memories of last night kick in. Spencer. The thought of him brings a smile to your lips. Last night was perfect. He was good. Very good actually. The best you've ever had. Luckily you still remember everything.

His lips against yours, his tongue inside your mouth. His body as he pushed you against the wall. His big, rough hands that squeezed your breasts, wrapped so perfectly around your throat and reached all the spots inside you that you never could. The way he manhandled you so perfectly, rough but somehow also gentle and caring in the right moments. The way he fucked you and used you for his own pleasure, making you a moaning mess. He ruined you for every other man.

But now he is no longer here. You glance at the other side of the bed, it's empty. No trace of him. Just silence. He left when you were still asleep. A little bit of disappointment stirs within you. You were hoping maybe he would stay after all. Maybe have a coffee with you, or just… be there.

The sex was good but there was more. You really enjoyed talking to him. But then again, it was only a one night stand. Today it's the first day at university anyway, it's better to leave early in order to be there on time. If he had stayed here longer you certainly wouldn't have come on time. With a sigh, you push the covers back and swing your legs out of bed.

The floor is cold. You take a look at your phone and check the time. It’s 10:45 a.m. Your first lecture is in just over an hour. You quickly put on a light jacket and then, half asleep, you make your way to the bathroom. You are still tired but the feeling from last night remains. At least this day is off to a semi good start.

You pack your bag, throw in everything you need, your iPad, headphones, lip gloss, some chewing gum and all the other stuff. You rush out of the apartment, bag on your shoulder and keys in hand. You get on the bus that takes you to university and the fresh morning wind blows in your face. It's the first day. You can't wait to see what it brings.

-

You sit at the front of the lecture hall, the place is comfortable, the view of the board is perfect. Your iPad is in front of you and you're doodling on it out of boredom. The conversations of the other students still chatting sound like a distant murmur to your ears. You are excited and nervous. The first day of the new semester, the first lecture.

The room is slowly filling up and the last students are still finding their place. It‘s almost 12 o'clock and you’re still waiting for your friend Finn to arrive. He slept in and you told him you’re going to safe him a seat. You hear the lecture hall doors open, but you hardly notice it. You are lost in your thoughts, thinking about how hard it will be to concentrate on the lesson when Spencer is the only thing on your mind right now.

Then, suddenly, everything becomes quiet. All the conversations around you fall silent immediately. It's like someone flipped a switch. You look up, not sure why, and then you see him. Your new Professor. Your heart skips a beat when your eyes meet his. Spencer. He is standing at the entrance to the lecture hall. For a moment time stops.

The Spencer you had in your bed last night, the Spencer who gave you orgasm after orgasm, the Spencer who made you scream his name is now suddenly your professor. A look of confusion crosses his face, but then he quickly catches himself, puts on his serious expression, and turns away as if he's trying to ignore you.

The tension is thick in the air, but Spencer makes no move to pay attention to you. You bite your lip, anger rising inside you. It hurts. You never thought he would just dismiss you so coldly. You try to concentrate on the lecture, but Spencer, now Professor Reid, brings back memories of that night. And you wonder how he manages to act like there's nothing between you.

Nothing happens throughout the entire lecture. No look. Not a single word. You fight your anger as he explains the first topic and requirements for the exams in a calm voice, but you don't hear anything. Your thoughts only revolve around what happened earlier. Why is he completely ignoring you? Does he think you’re not going to keep this a secret?

Finally, after what feels like forever, the lecture is over. The room slowly empties and you remain seated in your row while the other students leave the lecture hall. Your pulse is racing, but you need to know what's going on between you now. You want to tell him that he doesn’t have to worry about you spilling this secret. You can't just go home and let it go now.

You get up, pack up your things and walk towards Spencer. You have the feeling that every step you take now echoes throughout the room. "Spencer… I mean, Professor Reid, can we talk?" you call but before you even get to the front he has already packed all his things and leaves the room without paying any attention to you.

You stop, angry, hurt, disappointed. The lump in your throat keeps getting bigger. You feel empty, like the ground has been pulled out from under you. What is he thinking? Why is he acting like this now? Why can't you just clarify the problem? With one last look at the door, you leave the lecture hall and know that this is far from over.

-

The next few weeks are not different. He avoids you, ignores you completely and you hope your grades won't be negatively affected, but you're willing to take him on if it comes to that. You're on your way to your next lecture when suddenly someone calls you. You turn around and see Finn. You met him during your first semester and have been friends ever since.

Finn sprints a few steps until he is next to you and holds out your headphones. “You forgot your headphones in the library earlier,” he says. “Oh, thanks! I already looked for them, I thought I just forgot them at home again.” You take them out of his hands and quickly put them in your bag.

As you stroll through the hallway together, you suddenly hear Spencer's voice and automatically turn around. You see him holding a coffee and talking to another student. She laughs and you can clearly see her getting closer to him, flirting and throwing herself at him. You immediately feel panic rising within you.

Every girl you knew has a crush on him. You can’t blame them, he’s attractive after all, but you can’t help but feel jealous. He ignores you but lets other students hit on him. This is too much. Why does he play this game with you like nothing happened while he behaves like this towards others?

Suddenly he turns around and meets your eyes. It's the first time that your eyes cross again since he came in on the first day. You can see a fleeting grin on his face before he turns away again. He leans down to the student who is showing him her notes, and you can see her leaning even closer towards him. The knot in your stomach tightens.

Finn follows your gaze and raises an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued and with a look that almost seems too amused, he asks, “Are you okay? You look… hurt?” You shake your head. “I’m fine,” you say, even though you feel the fear bubbling inside you. You’re afraid he found someone better than you. "Let's go."

You enter the lecture hall together but you can't concentrate. Spencer is in your head the whole time, and the more you think about the scene, the angrier you get. And then suddenly an idea comes to you. A plan. A very good plan. Maybe you can play this game too and make him jealous, but on your terms.

After the lecture, you stay with Finn and wait until most of the other students have left the room. You look around once to make sure no one is listening before you whisper, “I need your help. But you have to promise me you won’t ask any questions.” Finn looks at you curiously. “Okay, what’s this about?”

You sigh and look him straight in the eyes. “I wanted to ask you if it would be okay with you if you helped me make someone jealous. Pretend you’re interested in me and dating me,” you explain to him.

Finn grins, a slight smile spreading across his face. “Of course I can do that.” Then he tilts his head slightly. “But I do have one question. Does this whole thing have something to do with Professor Reid? I can tell something happened between you,” he asks with an amused look.

You immediately blush and try not to get caught. “Shh, keep quiet,” you whisper, looking around nervously. “And I said no questions. So, are you in or not?” Finn laughs, shakes his head and raises his hands as if to apologize. “Okay, okay, I understand. Sure, I can help you.” You breathe out a sigh of relief and grin at him. "Thanks!"

-

A few days later you can finally carry out your plan. Finn sits down next to you in the lecture hall and as soon as Spencer enters the room, Finn leans closer to you and casually puts an arm around the chair next to you. Then he whispers in your ear. "I'm curious to see if that works."

Even though you said he shouldn't ask any questions, you told him what happened between you and Spencer. You know you can trust him and he would find out sooner or later anyway because he plays along with this whole thing.

You giggle softly. "I really hope so. Thank you for taking part in all of this,” you say quietly but you get interrupted immediately. "If you think you need to talk while I'm teaching, you can leave straight away. I expect everyone to be quiet,” Spencer says and when you look up you can see his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. You lean a little further away from Finn and can't help but smile.

That went faster than expected. You notice that he is no longer ignoring you. His eyes keep wandering over to you to see what you are doing, if Finn is getting closer to you. The atmosphere is not as relaxed as it used to be, everyone can tell the he is not in a good mood today.

When the lecture is over you pack your things and as you leave the room Finn puts an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him. You can feel Spencer’s gaze following you and you're annoyed that you didn't think of making him jealous sooner. But it doesn’t matter now, you’re happy your plan works.

-

Unfortunately you weren't able to carry out your plan any further this week. Spencer has been missing the rest of the week and you assume he is busy working on a case with the team. It felt like the week wasn't going to end at all and when you go to the library with Finn on Monday morning, you hope that Spencer is coming back now.

You sit down at the table together with a coffee and start writing on your essays, using the free time to get ahead with it. You're completely focused on your work until Finn suddenly bumps into you with his leg under the table. You look up confused before he places a hand on your thigh and leans forward. He whispers in your ear "Your favorite professor is back.”

You nod and lean in closer too, you don't want to look in Spencer’s direction so that he thinks you haven't noticed him. “Is it okay if we kiss?” you ask and Finn nods. You try to ignore Spencer as much as he ignored you. But you can still feel his gaze fixed on you.

Finn leans forward and places a quick, gentle kiss on your lips. When he leans back he can see Spencer’s angry look. "He didn't look happy with it,“ he says and you laugh. "Then I did everything right. I hope that this was not too much. I'm sorry then." You say but he just waves it off. "It's all good, I agreed to the whole thing. I just hope that it works out for you in the end,” he says and winks at you.

The two of you stay a little longer and continue learning and working on your essays but after a while you decide to leave. You turn to Finn. “I'll leave now. I can't concentrate anymore anyway. And thanks for helping me out again.” You say, packing up your things. "No problem. I'll stay a little longer and use the time I’ve left. I'll see you tomorrow then,” he says and you nod. "See you tomorrow.”

-

It feels like a small victory as you leave the library. Not only have you made progress with your learning, but you have also been able to continue putting your plan into action. If you and Finn keep it up, Spencer will definitely talk to you about it soon.

Now you just want to listen to music and get rid of the remaining tension and you look for your headphones in your bag again. They must be somewhere between the notes and other things, you're sure you packed them this time. “Where the fuck are they?” you mutter under your breath and continue digging in your bag.

But then you suddenly feel a movement in front of you. You look up and freeze. There he stands. Spencer. Arms crossed, eyes sternly fixed on you. You immediately tear your eyes away from his and want to walk past him without saying a word, but he notices what you're up to. He's getting in your way.

“What do you want now?” You try to keep your voice calm, but inside your heart is already beating a little faster. The look he gives you is hard, almost annoyed.

“You will come with me,” he says. You cross your arms over your chest and looking at him as if you are really annoyed. "What's that supposed to mean? I have to go home.”

He shakes his head. “You’re coming with me now. We need to talk.” You roll your eyes. "Oh, do we now? And what exactly do you want to talk about, Professor?” Your voice sounds sharper than you planned. “You’ve just been ignoring me for the last few weeks. Do you even know my name anymore?” you ask him. “Why should I have forgotten your name?” he asks and raises an eyebrow.

“Because you‘ve been ignoring me since our first day here! I understand, I'm your student now, but I -“ you start but he interrupts you. You see his face harden, his expression becoming even more serious. “Not here. Come with me, now.” You feel a mixture of anger and nervousness building up inside you. You just want to brush him off, but somehow you also feel like challenging him.

“Make me,” you say, your voice challenging, almost mocking. You look him straight in the eyes, watching what he'll do next. He barely blinks, glancing quickly down the hall as if to make sure no one sees you. Then he suddenly grabs your arm. It‘s not a gentle hold, he grabs you firmly, dragging you behind him without another word.

“You should really stop messing with me.“ He sounds angry. “I like trouble,” you say with a smirk and try to pull away. But you feel his hand holding you tight. One last thought comes to you before you're dragged down the hallway. What the hell does he actually want from you now?

-

A few minutes later you are standing in front of his office and he unlocks the door. You go in and look around. It's the first time you're here, you never went to his office hours. There are a lot of books lying around and you take a look at the titles. Spencer, on the other hand, locks the door behind you. You're about to reach for a book, but he interrupts you.

“I want to talk to you. Sit down,” he says and points to the chair on the opposite side of the table. You think about it for a moment, but decide against it. Instead you stay in front of his table with your arms crossed. You want to get back at him for treating you like that, even if it's hard because you want nothing more than for him to kiss and touch you again.

“Oh now, after weeks, you want to talk. In case you haven't noticed, Professor, I've been wanting to talk for a long time. You were the one who disappeared straight away when I approached you,” you say and roll your eyes again. You are curious to see how long he will let you continue like this before he snaps.

He stands up and walks towards you in long, slow steps. When he stands in front of you he lifts your chin. He finally touches you again you feel a shiver run down your spine. His pupils are dark and you can see the lust in them you already saw the night you first met.

“Do you want to know why I didn’t talk to you, baby?” he asks and you can’t help yourself and nod. You need to know what he is thinking. He leans down and his mouth is directly against your ear. Being this close to him again turns you on immensely.

“All I could think about after this night was you - your gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock, your pretty pussy taking me so well and your sweet moans when I made you come. It was a shame that I couldn't stay longer in the morning to fuck you again. You've been on my mind the whole time after that night. And then I come in, for work, and you're sitting there. All I wanted was to bend you over my table and fuck you again,” he says before he leans back to look into your eyes again.

“But I was overwhelmed by the whole situation. It was my first day as a professor and I didn't want to risk getting fired. That's why I avoided you. I saw how much it bothered you and I have to admit, I liked seeing you so jealous when I was talking to other students, to see that I have this effect on you.” His face suddenly hardens again. “Until you thought you had to play this game with me too and make me jealous with your friend. I knew it from the beginning.”

You grin and decide to continue playing with him. “Oh, that doesn’t really matter to me. It still worked, didn’t it?” you say and then he finally snaps. He takes a step towards you and puts a hand around your throat, pulling you closer to him. "You've taken it too far. He kissed you, touched you, held you in his arms." His grip tightens, but you realise there is some hesitation, he’s still careful because he doesn’t want to hurt you.

“I can do whatever I want, professor. I am not your property,” you breath out and give him a challenging look. “No? You will be soon.“ He lets go of your throat, turns you around and bends you over his desk. “Actions have consequences and you will now see what yours have.” His words send a shiver down your spine and you shutter in excitement.

He notices and chuckles before he flips your skirt over and exposes your underwear. His hands roam over your ass, squeezing it before he pulls back and suddenly his hand comes down onto your ass. He just spanked you. You can feel a stinging sensation and it turns you on even more. “I’m going to remind you who you belong to. You’re going to count and take your punishment like a good girl, do you understand?” he asks.

You nod and he pulls you back by your hair. “Words, baby,” he says. “Yes, I - I understand.” He lets go of your hair and his hand goes back to your ass, grazing the spot he just spanked before and without a warning his hand comes down on the other side. You whimper and begin to count. “One.” His hand rubs the spot almost soothingly before he continues. You are getting wetter with each strike.

“You’re enjoying this. I can see how wet you are. I bet you missed me in the last few weeks, am I right?” he asks. “I did,” you admit before his hand comes down again. “Two,” you continue to count. “Tell me, did you touch yourself at night, thinking about me? How good I fucked you? How I made you come again and again, on my tongue and on my cock?”

He leans down to whisper in your ear again. “Because I did. I stroked myself at night, wishing it was your hand, your lips or your pussy wrapped around my cock. I couldn’t wait to finally have you again.” He admits before his hand comes down on your ass again. “Three. Yes, I - I did. I couldn’t stop thinking about you either,” you say and he chuckles.

“Just like I thought,” he says before he continues with his punishment. He turns your ass red and decides after ten strikes that you have enough. “I’m proud of you baby. You took it like the good girl we both know you are. You just need someone that discipline you sometimes. Isn’t that right?” he asks. “Thank you. That’s… that’s right Sir.”

Spencer grins and turns you around, finally pressing his lips against yours again. He taste likes coffee, toothpaste and cinnamon. It’s addictive. His tongue explores your mouth and you moan against him, pressing your body against his, roaming you hands over his chest. You remember every spot and every muscle like it was yesterday. It’s no surprise though because you had to think back to the night you spent together every evening.

Spencer starts kissing down your neck, making sure to leave a hickey there, just like he did the first time he fucked you. Your hands run through his soft hair, pressing him closer to you and when you give them a thug he growls. “Please, touch me. I need you,” you say, desperate for more. “Eager, aren’t we?” His hand slides between your legs and up your thigh.

When he finds your soaked panties he chuckles. “You’re soaked, baby. All this, just for me. Do you want me to help you out? Make you come on my mouth or my fingers again?” he asks and you nod before you breath out “Both please.” He laughs. “You really need me that badly? Then beg for it,” he says with an amused look on his face.

He’s clearly enjoying this. You don't care if you sound pathetic, you listen straight away to what he asked you to. “Please, I want you to make me come. Please fuck me with your fingers. Eat me out. I need you,” you beg. “Good girl,” he praises before he reaches for your panties and slides them down your legs.

As soon as you step out of them he grabs them and puts them in his pocket. Then he places you on his desk, presses your back down and leans forward to lick a stripe up your pussy. You moan and immediately reach for his hair again, pressing him closer to you. “Please, more,” you moan. His thumb teases your clit before he pushes two fingers into you.

Your eyes roll back and you bite down on your lip to keep quiet, which is really hard because he’s just too good. You feel everything, his tongue, his lips and the stubbles of his facial hair as he eats you out like a man starved. The combination of his tongue and fingers is overwhelming. You’re losing yourself in the pleasure quickly, feeling how your climax approaches.

Spencer however notices too and pulls back, his lips glistening with your arousal. “I didn’t give you permission to come,” he says and you whine. He just laughs quietly before pushing his fingers in your mouth. “Clean them,” he says and you obey. He watches you very closely and you decide to tease him more, the tip of your tongue strokes his fingertips. “Fuck me Sir, please,” you say and look straight into his eyes.

You can see the lust in them and he wastes no time and reaches for his belt, pulling his cock out. He strokes himself a few times and you can’t keep your eyes off him. “You like watching me, don’t you? Do you want to watch while I make myself come and leave you with nothing?” he asks and you immediately shake your head. “No, I need you.”

“Didn’t expect anything else from my little slut,” he says and slides his cock through your folds. You wrap your legs around him and he finally pushes in. You moan and he clasps a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. “Shh, be quiet for now. I’m gonna make you scream my name tonight, but not here.” Your eyes widen. So this is not going to be the last time he fucks you.

You feel the relief, but you don't have time to think further about his words because he starts to pound into you. You missed this feeling so much and get lost in the pleasure. His hand wraps around your throat again, squeezing it, just the way you told him you like it. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good. I missed this. I couldn’t stop thinking about you after that night. And now I finally have you again. You’re all mine. Say it.”

“I’m - I’m yours. Only yours,” you say and pull him in for a kiss. You can still taste yourself on his lips. When he pulls back he slides out of you, flipping you over and bending you over his desk again. A few seconds later he’s already back into you, fucking you from behind. He slaps your ass again and you inhale sharply. It stings more than before now, you’re sensitive after the spanking.

He lets you forget about the pain though when he keeps hitting your g-spot over and over again. The new angle makes you see stars. “God, you’re perfect. So thight and wet. I could fuck you all night,” he says while his fingers keep digging deep into your hips, holding you thight. “You should see yourself. So pretty with your ass spanked red and bent over my desk, taking my cock like a good girl.”

You can feel that you’re slowly losing control. You just want to come, especially after he denied you earlier. “Can I - can I come now please?“ you whisper while he keeps thrusting into you. “I can’t hear you. Ask again,” he says and you can tell that he’s teasing you. “Can I come?” you ask again, louder this time. “Ask nicely, baby,” he says, driving you crazy. “I want to come, can I - can I please come?” you ask again, making sure to speak loud enough this time.

“No,” he simply says, pulling out of you and pushing you on your knees. “Open,” he says and you obey, taking his cock into your mouth. He pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail and fucks your throat. You can feel his cock twitch and a few seconds later he comes inside your mouth. You swallow everything and look up to him, begging him with your eyes to finally let you come now.

He pulls you up and lifts your chin with his hand before kissing you again. “You did so good, baby. But you have to wait until we’re home. Because when I make you come again, I want to hear you scream my name. Can you do that for me?” You clench your legs together in excitement. “Yes. But can we leave right away then?” you ask and he laughs. “Of course baby.” He helps you collect all your things before the two of you sneak out of his office and through the hallways to his car to drive home.

[lizsos]

One Of Them

warning: smut, breeding, daddy kink, size kink, age gap, In-ho being a cocky prick, unsafe sex, ass slapping, mentions of cervix touching (made up kid name) this does not take place in squid game!!

Genre: smut

Ever since you heard about your next door neighbor Mr. Hwang going through a divorce, things have been hell. For you.

From the day he first moved into the apartment, constantly arguing on the phone with his ex wife about whose turn it was to watch his son, Ji-ho .

When Ji-ho is over, everything’s quiet, and you finally get a chance to rest your head and relax in peace. Doing some studying and cleaning in the quiet atmosphere.

You wished the black haired boy would stay for just a day longer, because In-ho is back to his usual self hours later. Bringing in young college girls one after the other. Fucking them hard against his headboard as they let out loud cries of daddy. It was annoying. You couldn't even stay inside anymore to get work done.

At every hour of the day he seemed to be active, fucking through all sorts of women, the shaking of your thin bedroom wall never coming to an end as high pitched moans echoed through.

It was getting to the point where you couldn’t take it. You were so fed up. Didn’t he ever get tired? Tired of promising these young desperate girls to call them back only to throw away their numbers and fuck their friends the next day.

Weeks go by and nothing changes, Ji-ho coming over for a silent three days then leaving again. Giving his father enough time to fuck any feelings for his ex wife out of his system.

You swore you couldn’t take it, you had barely been able to study, occasionally spending an hour or two in a nearby café between classes. When you noticed your grades slipping, your eyes having prominent bags at the lack of sleep, you groan loudly in frustration. Finding your legs moving before you could even process it.

Your fist raising to knock on the man’s door once, then twice, with no answer. You huffed, going in to knock a third time before the door swung open. A tall, muscular man towering over you with a scowl. “What?”

Your eyes widened as you scanned over his body, his perfectly sculpted face, broad shoulders, defined abs, and the very distinct outline in his sweats.

The man cleared his throat, a smirk gracing his face when he startled you out of your intense drooling. “Now, what do we have here?” he chuckled deeply, tilting his head to the side with crossed arms as he rested against the door’s frame. “Here to get your turn sweetheart?”

You gulped, finding it harder to spit out your words as the hwang man stared you down. “I.. I’m here to ask you to keep the noise down, some people have actual work to do.”

In-ho whistled, “Oh? A bold one huh? I like it,” His hand reaching under your chin to make you look fully up at him. “you’re a pretty little thing you know,” he spoke, running his thumb along your bottom lip, “wonder what you’d look like ruined underneath me.”

You ignored the flutter that went off in your pussy, clenching your thighs discreetly as you glared. “Just keep the noise down okay old man? I'm trying to study.”

In-ho could feel his cock grow harder, you were just what he needed. “So i’m an old man now? That’s a first, usually girls like you just call me daddy.” he shrugged, “but it’s okay, you’ll get there.”

You rolled your eyes as you walked away from him, annoyance written all over your face to mask the arousal swirling in your stomach. He’d probably fucked the entire neighborhood by now, including the campus, so you weren’t gonna fall for his sick charms. You just hoped he complied and kept the place quiet, you didn’t need that usual noise the day before your big test.

In-ho had surprisingly did as you asked, and you sighed in content as you read through the pages of your notes. Your pen in your hand finding itself in between your teeth as you bit down softly. You got what you wanted, so why was your mind running wild with thoughts of the Hwang man’s hands on your body as he fucked you like all of those other girls.

You shifted in your seat, one leg over the other to bring stimulation to your needy clit making you whimper softly. You couldn’t let yourself give in you plus didn't want to be one of them.

Another week passed and you once again found yourself in the same noisy predicament. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to the man more than twice your age. Way too old for you yet just so.. hot. Hwang In-go had become your fantasy.

And it was unbearable.

Hearing all these moans day and night. Hearing In-ho’s loud grunts and groans as he no doubt left them with the best fuck of their lives.

It was Thursday, and Ji-ho would be coming tomorrow per routine, so you’d finally get a break then. But, you couldn’t deny the fact that you wanted an excuse to go over there. Your face serious as you banged on his door.

You waited a minute, a shirtless In-ho emerging into the door frame as it flew open. In-ho smirked, “Ah, you again.” His sweatpants hung dangerously low beneath the start of his v line, black hair messy as his tongue darted out to swipe across his lips. “Finally came to your senses?”

His last fuck had left right before you came, coincidentally of course.

“N-no.” you objected sternly. “I’m here to ask you again to just be.. what are yo-“

You swallowed hard when he began stalking towards you, a sinister grin on his face as you were backed up against a wall. His breath fanned your head as he bent his neck. Hands on the walls near each side of your face. “Your face says otherwise, sweetheart.”

“No it d-doesn’t.. you’re just a cocky old man preventing me from getting things done.”

In-ho’s brow raised with a deep hearty chuckle, “Back to that nickname i see,” His hand grabbing hold of your cheeks and squeezing them together. “Gonna have to clean that mouth of yours, teach you how to be a good girl.”

You whimpered lowly, feeling wetness pool between your legs as you looked up through your lashes . In-ho’s eyes trailing to your glossy lips as he inhaled sharply. “Don’t worry, this dirty old man’s lips are clean”

Pressing his lips roughly to yours, your eyes widening as you gripped the edge of your skirt with a moan. In-ho smirked against your lips, his hands hooking beneath your legs as he lifted you up. Your frame so much smaller in comparison to his larger one.

In-ho was quick to bring you inside. And you found yourself sitting on the man’s lap, your skirt bunched up at your hips as he hammered up into your wet cunt with brute force. His hands kneading into the flesh of your ass each time you ground your hips onto him.

You let out a loud mewl, his thick cock stretching you out and grazing against your gummy walls as he fucked you deep. Feeling him within your stomach when you cried out. “Mr. Hwang— ah, so- ngh g-ood.”

“That’s not my name sweetheart, try again.” he growled deeply, landing his palm onto your ass in a hard slap. And you whimpered tearfully at the sting. “I-In-ho —” Another harsh smack burning through your flesh making you let out a cry. “Last chance.”

You moaned loudly, your back arching as In-ho slammed into you. “D-daddy, ahh daddy, o-oh fuckk—,”

In-ho hummed in satisfaction, “Look at you, thought i was a dirty old man hmm?” His teeth biting softly at the delicate skin of your neck, his pelvis hitting your red puffy folds relentlessly. “Moaning for me like a little slut, so fucking pretty.”

You let out a shaky cry, “Haah— M-Mr. Hwang,” Your pussy clenched down on his girth, his rough hand making its way around your throat, squeezing the sides and forcing you to look at him. “Not gonna fucking tell you again.”

You mewled, “‘M sorry— nngh,” Your back arching when In-ho bullied his cock deeper into you.

“Still waiting sweetheart ” he grunted, eyes dark as his grip on your throat tightened, your moans and whimpers loud as his thighs noisily met your sticky cunt. “D-addy— ahh- so good,” you cried, feeling his angry tip forcing its way to your cervix, kissing the entrance with each harsh thrust.

“Good fucking girl, you’re getting there” he grinned with a groan. A creamy ring formed around the base of his cock, your pussy gushing messily onto him as loud squelching sounds filled the room. “Pussy’s so fucking tight— better be on the pill cause i’m botta cum in that pretty pussy, shit.”

“Ah— nngh daddy, ‘m close- gonna cum.” you whimpered, your eyes rolling back and your lips parting in a string of incoherent babbles, In-ho’s thrusts sloppy as he groaned.

“Gonna cum on this old man’s dick yeah?” He teased cockily, “Had so much talk for someone who’s falling apart on my cock.” In-ho grunted, “Bet ya sat there listening like a lil perv, your hand down your panties hmm?”

You shook your head no with a cry, “Uh uh- ahh— wasn’t.”

“Sure about that? Sure you didn’t sit there and fantasize about me fucking you like a little slut?” His hand reached down to rub at your clit, a loud moan escaping your mouth.

Your breathing sped up as you felt a coil buildup in your stomach. Your body shaking with pure ecstasy. You let out a high pitched scream, the stimulation to your g spot making your head go fuzzy. Vision turning white as you clenched down tightly on In-ho ’s cock.

“O-oh fuck— ‘m cumming— ah, cumming daddy.”In-ho’s hand pressed down harder on your throat, the pressure restricting your air flow making you let out a choked mewl. Tears welling in your eyes as his heavy balls smacked against your ass.

“Nngh—” The ring of white thickened at his base as you let out whiny cries. In-ho’s hand working small circles on the sensitive bud before he brought his lips to your ear. His voice deep and gruff as he groaned. “Fuck sweetheart- squeezing me so tight, come on and scream for me.” He breathed, “make a mess on my cock.”

In-ho’s mean pace became too much, a tight pull in your stomach as your mouth fell open, legs trembling with loud cries as an unfamiliar feeling washed over you.

It was heavenly, your brain going dumb and your pupils disappearing behind heavy lids as you screamed loudly, head falling back and nails digging into his shoulders as you fell off the edge.

In-ho never slowing the movement of his hips, still hammering up into you despite the mess you were making on his thighs. Your pussy spraying streams after streams of clear liquid as you arched your hips, grinding back and forth to ride out your squirting orgasm.

“Even fucking louder than any of my previous fucks.” he laughed, “Wonder what the neighbors would say, went from being a whiny little bitch to being the same thing you complained about.”

You let out a whine, In-ho flipping you abruptly onto your back, his hand still around your neck as the position allowing him to hit even deeper. “Fuck,” he grunted, his words in between each thrust. “gonna fucking breed that pussy so deep.” Letting out a low groan at the last thrust, his lips meeting yours in a sloppy kiss as he bottomed out.

A whimper fell past your lips into his when you felt him fill you up, his cum shooting in hot thick spurts along the walls of your cunt.

He smirked as he pulled away, watching you pant heavily. “Would make such a good breeding bunny.” Dipping his fingers past your lips and resting them on the back of your tongue. “Might have to keep you around, can’t be disturbed if you’re the one making the noise now can you?”

You shook your head tiredly, forcing your eyes to stay open as In-ho pulled out of you. His sticky cum seeping out of your fluttering pussy slowly. Your brain was still so clouded, blinking in and out of blurry vision.

In-ho hid the smile threatening to creep up onto his face, his face neutral as he plopped down onto the couch next to you. “Rest if you need to, then leave.” He said nonchalantly, trying to seem like his usual self despite the fact that he had not kicked you out yet. Which was something he never did, let a girl stay any longer than a second after sex.

The man would never admit it, but there was just something about you.

He wanted to make you his pretty little girl.

[justwonder113]

Drunk Chan confessing to you -inspired by this lovely ask

Warnings: Cursing as always. Chan's Pov. Reader is gender neutral. Chan is whipped! Chan thinks reader is dating someone. Childhood friends to lovers. Misunderstanding with a happy ending. Chan is drunk but not that much, more like tipsy. word count-3.4k A/N- Sorry this took me ages to write but I hope you'll enjoy reading. Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated.

My masterlist.

If you like my work you can buy me coffee❤️

Chan felt like he was about to lose his mind and weirdly enough it wasn’t because one of the boys did something to either piss him of or to just to be a general menace. No his distress was caused by a whole another thing or better say someone. How in the world was it possible for someone look this gorgeous, so ethereal and breathtaking on a regular fucking Friday?  

He knew he was whipped for you. He made peace with that simple yet not so simple fact years ago. He also knew that he found you absolutely beautiful. Whenever he tried to think of something beautiful your image always popped up before anything else. It was simple as that for him, like the fact that the sky was blue, the grass was green and you were definition of a word bewitching for him. 

Maybe it was a little bit of alcohol he had drunk earlier affecting him, maybe he just fell for you even harder right now (if it was even possible). But right now, as he watched you talk with the boys about god knows about what, he thought that you were the definition of the word beauty. He didn’t know if he wanted to stare at you for as long as possible and bask in your beauty and presence of if he should go to Hyunjin and ask him to teach him paint so that he could capture just how beautiful you looked. But knowing himself, even if it was possible to capture all of it on paper... Chan liked to think of himself as a selfless person, or at least he tried to be, but he was an honest man. If it was possible to capture how captivating you truly were, he would just keep it to himself, he would become the most selfish man in the world. And maybe he was. All he could think about right now was that your attention wasn’t on him, that you paid your mind to someone other than him. It didn’t matter that that “someone” was his friends, the people he considered his family. He wanted all your attention on him, he wanted you to look only at him. God he was losing his mind. When did he become so needy and desperate for your attention? He felt pathetic, how would you even look at him when he acted this way? He reminded himself something he did for years now. That you deserved way better than him, you deserved someone who would give you the world, someone who would cherish you the way you deserved. Even though he would do absolutely anything for you, even though he would make impossible possible for you, even though he would let the world burn for you, you deserved someone who would do even more for you and more importantly always be there for you. He wasn’t worthy of you not with the relationship he had with his work. God, it killed him whenever he had to cancel plans with you and couldn’t be there for you because he had to work. As much as he loved what he did for a living, the same love turned into hate because it kept him away from you. There were even times when he considered to just fuck it and quit, but what would he even do in life? There was literally nothing else he could see himself as. Without a job without a passion what worth did he have? What could he do?  

God, he felt pathetic. He was thinking about all this as he stood a chance with you in the first place. You always had looked at him and saw him as a friend. Maybe there was a moment there and there where it seemed that there could be something more. But your relationship although the years had been strictly platonic. He had given up on hoping for something more years ago. 

He had come with peace with the fact that he couldn’t be something more for you. Maybe it was for the good. You could live your life to the fullest. He was fine loving you from afar. 

God all he could think about was how cute you looked. Your hair was still messy, because you rushed here when you noticed that all of them were quite drunk when you called to check on them, and you were wearing that way too big hello kitty hoodie with the matching black pants Chan got you as a joke that you kept wearing because it was really comfortable. Your whole look today screamed that you only cared about being comfortable and that you were grumpy that you had to get up in the middle of the night to get your silly friends. Still in Chan’s eyes you looked like you hung the stars yourself. 

 God he was obsessed with you. There was no better way to describe the feeling really. Even now the moment your gaze shifted to him and you gave him that sweet smile... He felt like he couldn’t breathe. His body felt warm all over yet he felt his lungs were frozen in place. 

“How are you feeling Channie?” You asked him with that sweet voice of yours. In seconds his mind was swarmed with all the possible lyrics he could use to write yet another song dedicated Soley for you that he kept hidden in his laptop.  Well, hidden was a nice word. All of the boys knew of that file and Chan was more than few times relentlessly teased for his crush on you. They kept pestering that he should just confess, or at least show you all the songs he had written for you and let them do the job for him, but he just couldn’t. 

“Better now that you’re here.” He slipped before he could even stop himself. What if he made you feel uncomfortable? You two flirted from time to time, but lately he had this rising suspicion that you were seeing someone and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. All he knew was that he would rather die than make you uncomfortable with his silly little crush. 

Thankfully for him and his heart you chuckled and immediately his whole heart was filled with joy. “Well, I’m glad. I’m here to bring you home, because little birdie here told me that you had been asking for me all night.” You mused all sweetly. Chan’s head immediately snapped towards Minho, who grinned at him all triumphant. He would have to have a word with him later. 

“God I will kick his ass later. You didn’t have to come. I had no idea he told you to get here. You must have been tired.” Chan only stopped rambling when he felt you place your hand on his shoulder. You looked at him with eyes shining brighter than all the stars combined. It was his words yes and he would stand by it. 

“Calm down Channie.”  Your voice was calm, soothing. If there was one thing he had to choose to listen to till the end of his life he would, without a thought, choose your voice. Your kind, beautiful, soothing voice. He loved whenever you showered him with affection and complemented him. Hell, love wasn’t strong enough of a word to describe how he felt, he was on the cloud nine whenever you said even something sweet to him. But the thing about your voice and presence to him was that, even if you weren’t complimenting him or just being sweet. Even if you were just telling him about how your day went, he felt this serenity, this calmness. Whenever he was with you his mind always just shut down. It went silent. And he could actually enjoy living in a moment and enjoy his life to the fullest. Would there even be time when he would be able to convey in words just what you meant to him? Maybe then he would actually stop and be proud of himself as a lyricist. 

“Do you want me to be here?” Your teasing tone quickly bought him back to reality. 

“What kind of question is that? Of course I do!” Chan was quick to protest which made you chuckle. God there it was, that beautiful sound. Suddenly everything felt all right. 

“Whipped!” He heard Minho cough into his fist. He would really have to kick his ass later. 

Chan was about to ask you about how you were, how your day went, mundane stuff like that when he heard your phone ring.  “Sorry Channie one second.” You quickly checked your phone. The slight furrow of your brows was quickly replaced by a gentle smile. You quickly raised your finger to give you time and went a few steps away to talk on your phone. He couldn’t really decipher what you were saying to that person but your voice... You sounded do genuinely happy talking to that person.  

The ringing in his ears raised in volume when he caught you call that person “babe”. Did he fully lose you? Did you really start seeing someone? Was the distance between you so big that you didn’t even tell him you were seeing someone? Did he mess up so bad that you didn’t even feel comfortable confiding in him? 

Too caught up with the turmoil in his head he didn’t even notice for a moment a figure approach you. When he brought his gaze on you, you were talking with some man. Sweet smile adorning your face, your eyes shining brightly. Was it that someone? You weren’t talking on the phone anymore. The way you were talking to him you clearly knew him.  It also didn’t help him at all that the man you were talking to was objectively really handsome. There was no way he could compete with a person like him. God, he felt like a joke. There wouldn’t even be a competition. He should be able to face reality now. He had spent years helplessly yearning for you. He should know by now that he didn’t stand a chance with you. God, he felt like crying. 

The rest of the night was a blur. He didn’t even remember how he got into your car. Or the road you took. The last thing he remembered was how he saw you hug that man goodbye. Good thing that man wasn’t accompanying you that day and he returned to his friend group shortly after. He wasn’t sure he was ready to be introduced to your boyfriend. Not that he would ever be. 

It was funny how one moment you could be having time of your life and the next second it could be ruined by one single thing. Chan barely felt like talking, let alone smile or anything of that sort. And as it turned out his mood was contagious. The whole ride was quiet. Chan couldn’t even remember the time where all of them were in the same space and it was actually quiet. 

However, why you were silent and didn’t talk at all was a mystery to him. Did that man upset you? If that was the case, he would gladly murder someone. No one got to mess with you, not on his watch. 

“Channie?” Your voice brought him back to reality. He must have zoned out again. That two extra shots he drank as you talked with that man really messed with his head. As if he wasn’t already tipsy enough. “Are you okay?” You sounded worried. Was it this apparent he was sad? What was he even supposed to say? 

“I’m just tired.” He managed to mumble out after a second or two. 

“What do you think about sleeping over at my house?  We haven’t hung out in a while. I can not be deprived of my best friend for too long you know that.” You whined all cutely making his heart flutter uncontrollably. But he quickly got reminded of the fact that you were not his. And the small smile that wanted to break through got quickly replaced by a deeper frown. 

“I don’t think we should.” It brought him physical pain to utter these words to you. 

Now it was your time to frown. “Why is that?” God, you sounded so sad. It killed something inside him knowing he was the one causing you pain. You quickly backed down. “I mean if you don’t feel like it it’s totally fine. We’re almost at your house too. We’ll be there in few minutes.” You laughed awkwardly. 

God he hated this. Since when did things get weird between you? When did things change? Would things get even weirder and would the distance between you two grow as your relationship with your new boyfriend progressed? 

“Wouldn’t your boyfriend mind?” He hated how he couldn’t ask one question without mumbling like a sad little kid. 

Without even saying a word you quickly pulled over and turned on hazard lights. 

“Channie what the actual fuck?” You tried to sound calm but your voice betrayed you. 

“What? What did I do wrong?” This was weird, he was the one (okay unfairly, yes, but) upset with you, how were you the one scolding him? What did he even do? He didn’t remember upsetting you. Did he forget something? Did he do something and then forget? 

“What did you do wrong? Dude what is up with that question?” You sounded so appalled like he asked the most ridiculous question ever. “What boyfriend?” 

“You broke up?” When did you even manage to do that? Weren’t you all lovey-dovey with someone minutes ago? Did you break up with him via text? No, you wouldn’t do that right? Also why would you break up with him? The dude seemed perfect. 

“There was no one to begin with?” You stared him for a second, you seemed unsure of something. “Is this why you were sulky all evening? You think I’m dating someone?” 

Did he misread the whole situation? He didn’t right? He didn’t just make an absolute fool out of himself right? 

God he did. He wanted to dig a hole to crawl into and never get out. He really felt like crying now. 

“I’m not dating anyone.” You sighed out after few seconds of numbing silence. “God Channie what even made you think that?” 

Chan hadn’t even noticed he started fidgeting with his fingers. He only stopped when you placed your hand on top of his, only then he was able to feel the sting or the small self inflicted  wound. 

Chan took a deep breath. Here went nothing. “You had been smiling at your phone and texting a lot too. You’re always busy too. And when you were on your phone you called someone babe. And the man at the bar too!” Really, how could he not think you were dating someone. 

“I’ve been texting my friends that’s all. We’re planning a birthday party and I guess I’ve been running around a lot for it. Now listen carefully before I smack your beautiful idiot head! I call my friend babe, you have seen me do it millions of times, you even joked about how you could get jealous about it!” You quickly ranted to him, elevating Chan’s worries bit by bit, word by word. 

“What about the Guy at the bar?” Chan didn’t back down. He had to know. He had to know the truth. 

“Why does it matter if I have a boyfriend?” You looked at him with determined eyes. 

“What kind of question is that?”  

“The kind I want answer to. What does it change if I have a boyfriend?” 

Chan felt his face get warmer, how was he supposed to answer that question? 

“Come on, you know it changes everything!” No matter how hard he tried to hold it in, the desperation in his voice clearly showed. 

“What Chan? What does it change?” You raised your voice. Why were you prying like that? 

He couldn’t take it anymore. 

“For fuck’s sake how will it not Change everything? How can everything stay the same when I have been in love with since I remember? How can I just watch you go to another man just like this? You’re everything I have ever wanted and loved. You’re my everything! How can you not see that? Every song I have written is about you, every thought I have is about you, my heart simply beats just for you! How will it not change anything? It will kill me to see you with another man. I would do anything in this world for you but not let you go. I could never let you go!” 

God, he said it. He really said it. He finally admitted just what he felt for you. Well yelled would be more accurate word to describe it. But yeah... He finally admitted his feelings. It was like weight got lifted off his chest but as the seconds passed in absolute deafening silence, maybe it was better to keep it in. 

He couldn’t even look you in the eyes. He was such an idiot. He should have kept it to himself. Why didn’t you say anything? Were you that disgusted? Would you stop being friends with him now? Did he just lose you? 

He couldn’t even fully grasp what happened. One second he heard a clink of a seatbelt opening and next second your lips were on him. The lips he had dreamed of tasting for years were now kissing him. Did he just die and wake up in heaven? 

Your lips were soft as silk and so warm and you kissed him so tenderly almost hesitantly. As if a dam broke inside of him, he quickly opened his seatbelt and brought himself closer to you. There was no way he could hold himself back now that he got to know how you taste. Biting down on your lip gently he could feel your lips part. He immediately deepened the kiss. God he loved it, how you tasted, how you clung onto him, how soft and pillowy your lips were. His whole mind was consumed by you, he was overwhelmed in the best way, all he could feel was your lips caressing each other, your warmth surrounding him, your cold fingers that held his face gently, your sweet scent that was making him go numb. God he could feel how he was slowly getting more and more addicted to you. 

When you leaned back for air he couldn’t help but as he tried to chase your lips but you stopped him giggling. God did you have any idea what you did to him? He was at your feet at your mercy, did you even realize that? 

“Since I have to spell everything out for you today you beautiful dummy, I have been in love with you for years! I just didn’t think you felt the same way. Okay, there were times I did, but like you always backed down! And today seeing how sulky you got over me talking with a coworker who was with his boyfriend by the way, I thought that maybe this was the day I could finally get to the truth. Thankfully You return my feelings because if you didn’t I don’t think I would be able to get over you.” Chan physically couldn’t  let you finish talking a he leaned in and captured your lips in another searing kiss. As much he loved your voice and listening to you talk he had just realized that he loved kissing you more. Also to think that you thought that there was a possibility that he didn’t love you... He just had to stop you. 

“Of course I love you. God I adore you! You’re definition of perfection, live representation of love and beauty for me. I don’t think there’s even a universe where I don’t love you!” 

Hearing you giggle made his heart leap in joy. “God you’re such a sap Channie.” Gently bringing him closer to you by his shoulders you gently pecked him. Chan couldn’t help but mirror your grin as he wrapped his arms around you, basking in your presence, enjoying living this moment with you. 

“You’re one to talk.” He couldn’t help but tease back before leaning in to quickly peck your nose which made your smile widen. 

“We’re a perfect match then.” You mused, clearly satisfied. 

“Yeah, we really are.” Chan smiled to himself and hugged you closer feeling finally at peace. Finally feeling whole. 

Reblogs and feedback are gretly appreciated^^ If you like my work you can check my Masterlist or you can buy me coffee ;) Taglist: @velvetmoonlght @notastraykid @annie-boleyn

[moonstonejpg]

ours (k.bakugou x reader)

"your hands are tough, but they are where mine belong in"

sum. bakugou is having a bad week, thankfully his girl is always there to make the bad days a little better

cw: a little angst, fluff at the end!

i hate hate hate paparazzi!! loosely based off of this and the song ours by taylor swift

It had been a rough week for Katsuki.

First, the hero rankings were announced, and he found himself at #15—not even in the top ten. And he swore it didn't bother him, that the rankings were just a stupid popularity contest. But you saw the way his shoulders slightly slumped in disappointment and the way his fists clenched so hard that the half-moon imprints of his nails in his skin stayed for hours after you had smoothed his fingers out.

It broke your heart to see him like that—and then yesterday he got into a silly fight with Izuku, one that was filmed and taken way out of context by thousands of people on the internet. Which in turn prompted the resurgence of people saying he didn't even deserve to be on the list at all, let alone at #15.

bakugou is mentally unstable lol

i worry about his gf tbh, those anger issues are a huuuge red flag

right?! i hope that poor girl gets out of that

she seems so sweet, he’s probably threatening her or something

It was just one hit after another for him.

And now, as he stares out the window at the crowd of paparazzi with a clenched jaw, the only thought in your mind is how this is strike three. All he wanted to do was take you out for a nice dinner to thank you for being so supportive this week, but he couldn't even do that without a swarm of media leeches waiting outside.

"Kats, we don't have to go. We can just stay here." You say quietly, worried eyes set on his tense shoulders.

"No," he growls, "I'm not letting them ruin this too." He positions himself in front of you before taking a few hesitant steps out the front door of your shared apartment building.

His warm hand envelopes your own, fingers threading through before tugging you behind him, half shielding you with his large body. The flash of the cameras and the noise of the crowd makes your vision blur, but Katsuki is moving fast, fingers tightly gripping your own while his gaze is laser focused on the awaiting black car parked on the other side of the street.

Everything is moving so fast, the shouts of the various reporters melting together around you. But you can't hear a word they say, the sound drowning out any specific words, until—

“Why him?”

And you nearly miss the step below as you freeze. The question has you rearing back as if you'd been hit, your eyes dancing towards the sound of the question. You see him right away, a male reporter who is nearly frothing at the mouth for a reaction. The reporter leans forward, eyeing you hungrily as he waits for an answer. And usually, you wouldn't give them any time of day, the daily harassment towards you and every other pro-hero and their significant other almost daily a good enough reason toignore any of their probing questions. But how could you ignore this?

“Why him?” you parrot back, white-hot anger burning through your body at a rapid rate. You don’t think twice before you’re ripping your wrist out of the blonde's hand and taking angry strides towards the reporter. You're nearly toe-to-toe with the man, and while he is a full head taller than you, he shrinks a bit from the look on your face.

Katsuki comes up beside you, gently tugging at your wrist.

“It’s not worth it.” He says lowly, looking down at you with something like sadness tinged in his eyes. And your heart cracks, picking up on the one thing he isn’t saying but you know he’s thinking.

That he’s not worth it.

And you can’t have that, you can't have Katsuki thinking that he isn’t worth any of this, because he is. He is worth everything, and despite being in each other’s lives for years now, the fact that he still doesn’t see that is devastating.  

Your body begins shaking from a mix of anger and adrenaline as you look at the crowd around you. A slow hush falls over the crowd, as if they are waiting with bated breath to see what you have to say.

“Because he is the kindest human I have ever had the pleasure of knowing; kinder than any of you will ever be. And what has he ever done to you to make you so obsessed with twisting every move he makes, every word he utters into something that makes him look like the bad guy? And for a quick buck? You all should be ashamed of yourselves.” After shooting a glare around the crowd, you keep your chin high as you grab a stunned Katsuki’s hand and drag him towards the car.

You gently push him in, keeping a hand smoothed over the back of your dress as you crawl in after him, slamming the door shut with more force than necessary.

The car ride to the restaurant is eerily quiet, and as the adrenaline begins to leak out of your body, your brain catches up to what you did. And yeah—they did need to be told off, but you start to wonder if this is something that will get him into trouble.

You weren’t a hero and you didn’t have a lick of media training, why did you think causing a scene would be a good idea? The thoughts spiral in, and you want to bury your face in your hands as dread slithers its way into your stomach.

When you get inside the building, you are ushered towards the back of the restaurant by the host, presumably to where your table is located. But before you round the corner, Katsuki is tugging you into a dimly lit closet, fingers making quick work of the lock. Even after the door is bolted shut, he stands and faces it, as you just watch the outline of the gentle rise and fall of his shoulders.

“Kats?” You say quietly, a hand hovering over his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I just—”

He shakes his head, a disbelieving laugh pushing its way out of his mouth.  

“No, you—” He shakes his head again, then turns around to face you, his body crowding you up against the wall. His eyes are dark, twinkling with emotions you can’t place. Both of his hands come up to gently cradle your face, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Have I ever told you that I love you?”

You blink up at him, confused.

“Not only was that the hottest thing I have ever seen, but—well, that was the first time anyone has stuck up for me before.”

“I would do it again—anything for you really. You’re worth it. And I know that’s hard for you to believe, but you are. They can say whatever they want, but I know in my heart that I do not deserve you, and that you ” You say quietly, eyes locked on his. He smiles, eyes shining, before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your temple.

“Oh, my sweet girl.” He whispers in the dark of the room, thumbs caressing your cheeks.

“I love you Kats.”

“I love you too. Now, how about we ditch this place?” He asks, leaning back to tug at his tie, before bending forward to loop it around your neck. “I think that new ice cream parlor is open. So, sundaes on me?”

You nod, a giggle escaping when he bends down and tugs the ends of the tie, your body falling into him. He lets out a gentle laugh, the sound like a gentle breeze on a hot day. It has your smile stretching across your face, your heart singing in response.

He reaches down to unlock the door, but when he flicks the lock back, nothing happens. Katsuki tries again, but again, nothing happens. It doesn’t budge, not the second time he tries or the fifth, or even the tenth time he tries. On the eleventh try his hand slips from the lock, his eyes colliding with yours.

It’s silent for a few seconds, and then a laugh bursts out of him, followed by another and another. The sound has the grin staying locked in place on your face, relief flowing through you at the change in his mood.

“We—we’re stuck.” He gasps out, hands falling on his knees as he hunches over, deep laughs spilling out of him. It isn’t long before you are on the floor next to him, trying to catch your breath around your own laughter.

[mommyslittlebird]

What the Body Wants

Stepmom!Wanda x Reader

Summary: Now that you’ve decided to stay home for good, Wanda decides to take a step further into her role as your mama. The side effects bring out parts of her you’ve never seen.

CW: Stepmom/stepdaughter, induced lactation, breeding, cum strap, ovulation, light choking, W wants a baby, R is lowkey a bad fuck, R is confused but enthusiastic

Word Count: ~5k

A/N: Writer is also confused but enthusiastic. I’m not entirely sure I did this right but I like how it turned out and I really loved the premise. I hope this lives up to the hype/the rest of the series!

Part 5 of Her Special Girl

———————————————————

Coming home actually turned out to be a bit of a better deal than you expected. You’d half prepared to be regretting your decision by now, longing for the dorm life and solitude that moving away had given you. But, in reality, that college had never really given what you had hoped it would, so it didn’t feel like you were leaving anything behind.

Home life had also improved in the years you went away. A new custody agreement between Wanda and her ex-husband meant the boys were gone every other week, and they had grown up enough to not be riding Wanda’s coattails like they had been when you left. Your father was still deadweight, but he fell asleep early and stayed at work late, so even he was only an issue on occasion.

Even though it was only a 15 minute drive to campus, you adjusted your schedule to only have in-person classes on Tuesday and Thursday so you didn’t have to go everyday. So you spent most days in the bay window of Wanda’s office with your laptop and a lap desk, silently working on classwork while she sat at her computer.

Since you’d decided to stay home 2 weeks ago, Wanda had started the process of induced lactation, a thing the two of you had discussed in the past. You couldn’t help but be fascinated by the process. She would sit down on the couch or in bed, and spend around ten minutes with the funny looking devices hooked up to her chest. She still had an electric pump from when she had the twins, and you love to watch in awe as the clear plastic methodically massaged your mama’s nipples. She’d simply be reading a book or watching TV, but your eyes never left her chest.

If you asked nicely, she would let you help her use the manual pump. It never failed to amuse her how seriously you took this task. You would straddle her lap, furrowing your brow and sticking out your tongue slightly in intense focus. You always made sure the cup was placed perfectly, and you watched her face to gauge her reaction as you started to squeeze the pump. You were so receptive to anything she told you, whether you needed to squeeze it a little bit more, or if you’d gone too far. You always felt so honored to be allowed to take part in the process.

Your favorite, though, was when she invited you to join. She always insisted that the best form of stimulation was your suckling. She would lay you across her lap, running her hands through your hair, telling you that you did it better than the machines ever could. You spent 10, sometimes even 20 minutes on each side longing to draw out the process for as long as possible. Occasionally, she’d let you suckle on one side while she hooked up the electric pump to the other. She seemed to get extra stimulated on those days, hardly able to sit still even with your full weight in her lap.

On this particular afternoon, the two of you were curled up on the couch watching one of Wanda's favorite movies. You thought it was a little boring, but you weren’t going to complain while you curled up in her lap, securely wrapped in a soft blanket. The boys were at their dad’s house, your dad was at work and wouldn’t be home for several hours, and Wanda didn’t have any meetings this afternoon, so you didn’t have to worry about getting caught.

You wiggled around a little, trying to get comfortable, and you accidentally pushed your shoulder into Wanda’s chest.

She winced and sucked on her teeth. “Careful baby,” she whispered. “Mama’s a little sore.”

“Sorry, mama,” you apologized, turning to face her while carefully avoiding hitting her again. She took her breast in her hand, gently massaging it to ease the tension. You could see through gritted teeth how sore she was. You wanted to help her in any way possible. “Do you need a massage?” You asked innocently.

She perked up a little bit, intrigued by the offer. “Do you wanna give mama’s breast a gentle little massage?”

You nodded, and she slipped her shirt off over her head, revealing her chest. You could’ve sworn it was growing, though not so much she couldn’t hide it with baggy clothes. She took your hand in hers and slowly raised it to her breast. She could see you were nervous. You didn’t want to hurt her.

“It’s okay baby,” she reassured you. “You aren’t gonna hurt mama.”

You bit your lip, determined to do a good job and ease her pain. She was doing this for you, after all. You cautiously massaged the skin with your fingers, working your way carefully around her chest.

“Mmm,” Wanda hummed, throwing her head over the back of the couch. You could see her chewing the inside of her cheek, breathing shakily through her nose.

“Is this okay, mama?” you ask, concerned. “Do you need me to stop?”

“No, sweet girl,” she assured. “Don’t stop, just a tiny bit harder… ahh. You’re doing such a good job making sure your mama is all taken care of.”

“Mama?” you asked nervously.

“Yes, sweet girl?” she responded breathily.

“Is it hurting your body? To try and make milk for me?”

Wanda sat up straighter and cupped your soft, worried cheek. “Aww, sweetheart. You’re not hurting mama, baby. Mama is doing this because she wants to. And it doesn’t hurt so much as it’s just sensitive.” She stroked your cheekbone with her thumb, noticing how worried you still seemed to be. “Can mama tell you a secret baby?”

You nodded and leaned in, pressing your ear to her lips even though you were the only two people in the room.

Wanda dropped her voice to a whisper, playing along with your overly stealthy approach. “Mama’s body is reacting like this because all this pumping is making it want a baby.”

She took your hand, sliding it down her body and into the front of her pants. You nearly gasped as you felt through her thin underwear just how soaked she was. You pressed lightly into the wet patch, sliding two fingers up her slit through the fabric. She inhaled sharply, already grinding up against your hand. “It’s so sensitive, baby.”

She pulled back, gauging your reaction. There was a glint of recognition in your eyes. You were familiar with this sensation.

—----------

You stood in the doorway of her office, anxious and sweating. Your body felt it was on fire, tingling from your fingertips all the way down to your toes. You typically had a decently high sex drive, but you couldn’t remember a time when you’d ever felt this needy. It would have been easy enough to go to your room and masterbate, solve the problem on your own, but you wanted more. You wanted Wanda.

“Mama?”

Wanda turned her office chair to meet you. “Yes, sweet girl? What can I help you with?” She opened her arms, signaling you to come in.

You sat down in her lap and laid your head against her shoulder. She cradled the back of your head, stroking your hair softly with her thumb.

You hadn’t exactly planned to press your lips to her neck, to gently suck at the skin under her ear, but you were so hot, and her skin looked so soft, and you were so close, and she smelled so nice. And god, the taste, the sound you drew from her lips, the warmth of her skin. You needed her so badly. You slid your hand under the hem of her shirt, sliding your palm across her warm stomach.

“Sweetheart?” she said in a warning tone, using her hand to gently pull you from her neck. “What are you doing?”

She looked down, finding your eyes already glazed over with lust. You were hot to the touch, and just the simple tug of your hair pulled a low moan from your throat. “I need you, mama….”

She swallowed hard. It took a herculean amount of strength not to throw you over her desk and take you right there. If she hadn’t been a tad concerned that you had lost your mind, she would have. “Baby…” she asked. “What’s going on? Talk to mama.”

Your eyes looked into hers, pleading for more. Anything to take away the aching from between your legs. “It… I feel… It’s all so tingly. Everywhere. It… it hurts mama.” You were practically begging her to rip your clothes off and fuck you senseless.

“Ahh,” she hummed in recognition. “It’s that time of the month, is it?”

You furrowed your brow, confused. “What? No. My period was last week.”

“So your ovulation is this week,” she posited, smiling devilishly. “I’ll have to start keeping track of it, if it’s hitting you this hard.”

You groaned and buried your face into her shoulder while your hips bucked against her lap for any source of friction. You didn’t exactly know what ovulation was or what it had to do with you being so unbearably horny, but you weren’t exactly in the mood for an anatomy lesson.

Wanda kissed your head sympathetically and rubbed gentle circles on to the small of your back. “I’m so sorry, little love. Mama will take care of you in just a minute, just let me email Tasha and let her know I’m taking a long lunch.”

Thankfully, Wanda was true to her word, wrapping up her things rather quickly and carrying you to the bedroom. Your body hummed with electricity as she gently undressed you, making sure to egg you on with wet kisses and random hickies placed sporadically across your skin. You nearly jumped off the bed when she finally touched you, running a single digit up your folds and standing back to admire the results.

“Oh sweet girl, look at this,” she purred, holding her fingers in front of your face, covered in your excitement. As disinterested as you were in anything other than her hands and mouth on your body, you were admittedly a bit curious as to why it looked so different. What was usually a thin, clear liquid was now thick and white. She brought the fingers to your lips and you obediently took them into your mouth. “Do you know why it looks like that, sweetheart?”

You shook your head, quietly moaning at your own taste.

She leaned forward, whispering into your ear. “It’s because your body wants mama to give you babies.”

Just the raspy way the words left her mouth sent your hips flying off the mattress in a jolt of arousal. She stilled them with her hands, moving to kneel between your legs.

You had always had a pretty strong preference for missionary. You like to wrap your arms around Wanda’s waist and bury your face in her neck to stifle any sounds that she pulled out of you. This time, however, Wanda grabbed your legs and pushed your knees to your chest, gripping your thighs just below the underside of your knee.

You whined, feeling too far away from her, but she bent forward and kissed your head. “Shshsh. It’s okay sweet girl. Mama’s got you.”

You almost wanted to protest, but as soon as the tip of the toy hit your skin, any objections melted away. It was bigger than the toys you typically used, but you were so soaked the first four inches still slid in with ease. Your body momentarily seized and you breathed out a straggled moan.

Wanda took it slow at first, leaning forward to kiss your face and whisper words of encouragement as she gently eased the toy deeper and deeper with each thrust. “That’s it. That’s my pretty girl,” she cooed. “You look so pretty stretched out around mama’s cock, baby. Does it feel good? Is this just what you needed from mama?”

“Uh huh,” you moaned, eyes already starting to roll backwards. Your face flushed red when you realized you had nothing to cover your mouth with, leaving you squeaking and whining uncontrollably with each thrust.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream as Wanda bottomed out. You quickly realized the reason Wanda had you folded over like this: the strap could go impossibly deep, stretching you out in ways you’d never felt before. It was like she was kissing your womb with every stroke.

She groaned, slowly but firmly thrusting in as far as she could and holding it there before pulling back again. “Look at you, honey. Mama’s got you nice and ready. Are you gonna be a good girl for mama and let me give your body what it needs? Are you gonna let mama give you her babies?”

You bit down hard on your lip. You didn’t really understand what she was talking about. She couldn’t actually get you pregnant, but you did not care. You nodded eagerly, looking up at her with pleading eyes. “Mhm.”

“Say it for me. Tell me you want mama to fill you with her babies,” she commanded gently, continuing her slow and careful thrusts.

“I want… I want your babies mama. Please. Please mama I want you inside me forever,” you whined. Still you didn’t exactly understand what you were begging for, but the glare in her eyes told you that must have done the trick.

She leaned forward, pressing her whole body against yours and pinning you to the mattress. Your feet went up over her shoulders, keeping you trapped in the position even as her hands moved from your legs to the mattress. What had previously been slow, shallow strokes turned into faster, brutal thrusts. She pulled the toy nearly completely out of you before slamming it all the way back in. Her hips met yours in a merciless rhythm that left you shaking.

“Fuck! Mama… Mama!” You screamed, trying to reach out and grab her, but unable to get your hands out from under your legs. “Mama… I love you. I love you mama.”

“I love you too, sweet girl,” she said, nearly grunting with the intensity of her movement.

There was a shift that happened sometimes, when things got particularly intense between the two of you. It was like the slipping of a mask, but not in a scary or malicious way. Just Wanda so brutally intoxicated with you that she lost control. Her eyes narrowed and her face hardened. Her breaths came more as grunts than light moans. Her grip on you tightened into something more possessive and domineering. It never failed to drive you crazy.

“Fuck,” she growled, leaning back and moving her hand to your throat. “I’m gonna breed you. I’m going to keep filling you up until you can’t do anything but lay here and wait for me to come back and fill you up again. I’m gonna keep you leaking with my cum until this sweet little belly is all nice and swollen. Would you like that, angel? Do you want mama to keep you nice and full?”

“Yes mama!” you cried. “Please… please mama. Mama I’m gonna cum for you. Please cum inside of me mama. Please cum in…” you were cut short by an orgasm tearing through your body, leaving you speechless and dumb.

Wanda did not let up, continuing to chase her own pleasure. You tried to speak, but you couldn’t get out anymore than incoherent babbles. Wanda grabbed the vibrator she had given you earlier from your hand, turning it on and holding it to your clit. You writhed underneath her, jerking and spasming off the mattress, but she held you firmly in place.

Neither of you could do anymore than whimper or squeak. The only sound in the room was her hips hitting yours and the low thrum of the vibrator.

She let go of your throat, leaning forward again so she could kiss your face. “You're so beautiful, angel. And you feel so good on mama’s cock.” She turned up the setting on the vibrator, burying herself inside of you as deep as she could go. She could feel the vibrations against her own clit now. “Oh angel, mama’s gonna cum inside of you. Mama’s gonna fill you up and give your body everything it wants.” She squeezed the strap as she came, filling you with a warm, thick liquid unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

Wanda slowly pulled out, and gently guided your legs down to a more natural and comfortable position.

You shuttered as you felt the liquid leak out of you and drip down the crack of your ass. You furrowed your brow in confusion. “Mama…” you whined. You were so exhausted you couldn’t do anything but turn your head to look at her.

“Yes, little love?” She said, leaning forward to gently wipe the stray hairs from your sweaty forehead.

“What was that?” You asked breathlessly. “Feels funny…”

“Mama just came inside of you, sweet girl,” she explained quietly, bending down to kiss your head.

“It’s so… warm,” you noted, rolling your head to the side. Your nose pinched uncomfortably as you felt the thick liquid dripping down onto the bed sheets.

Wanda reached her hand back down between your legs, collecting the cum on her fingers and pushing it back inside of you. You whined.

“Shshsh angel,” she cooed. “Mama’s just making sure you stay nice and full, sweetheart. You remember what we talked about, yes? That’s why you’ve been so needy for mama all afternoon. This is what your body wants.”

When she was satisfied, she discarded the strap and laid down behind you, putting her arms under yours and methodically rubbing your stomach. She imagined your stomach swelling with life you created together. What a beautiful display that would be, of your love for each other. She moved your hair aside so she could kiss the back of your neck and the spot up under your ears.

You laced your fingers in hers, resting them just below your navel. “Do you really have to go back to work, mama?” You couldn’t handle it if she left you in here alone, all sweaty and still leaking cum. Surely she would at least carry you to the bathroom, maybe run you a bath and get you cleaned up.

Wanda chuckled and kissed your shoulder blade. “I think Tasha can handle it on her own.” She pulled you closer, rubbing her cheek against your shoulder. She wasn’t exactly sure how she would explain this to her coworker in the morning, but she would be sure to start taking a day off around the same time every month.

—---------

“You want me to…” you asked nervously, but even the idea made your pupils dilate. You had never used that particular strap inside of her. She’d only ever used it on you. It was honestly still a mystery to you, how the thing worked.

Wanda bit her lip and nodded, pulling your hand from her pants. “I mean, only if you-”

“I do!” you interrupted.

She raised her brows and opened her mouth like she was getting ready to chastise you for interrupting, but when she saw the eager, innocent excitement in your eyes, she just sighed. “Okay angel. Let’s go up to your room.”

You practically jumped up off of the couch and raced upstairs, grabbing the strap and shedding your clothes before she could even make it up the stairs. She merely chuckled at your overeager behavior, casually stripping off her own clothes while you fiddled with the harness.

She sat down naked on the end of the bed, helping you secure it around your waist. She pulled at the straps you had already managed to get twisted and tangled, adjusting and tightening it to your body. “Is that too tight?”

You shook your head, waving your hips back and forth to make sure it was snug.

She led your hand to a bulge at the base of the toy. “Now when you’re ready, you’re gonna squeeze right here, okay?”

You nodded, feeling the unfamiliar shape with the pads of your fingers.

Wanda scooted backwards until her head hit the pillows. You followed, crawling on your knees until you were nestled comfortably between her legs.

You were always a little awkward, trying to get the toy in. Luckily Wanda was right there to help. She eased the tip in herself, biting her lip to contain a moan as she did so. “Okay now remember, just start nice and slow.”

You leaned over her, putting your hand against the mattress on either side of her. You stuck your tongue out slightly in concentration, trying to focus on finding a good movement. If you were being honest, you were never particularly good at this part either. But what you lacked in skill, you made up for in determination. You found a slow, and slightly awkward, but steady rhythm.

Wanda hummed delightedly, pulling you down against her. “Mmm… that’s it angel. Nice and slow. Give mama some time to adjust.”

As you continued your easy, slow ministrations, you found yourself being able to go deeper with each stroke. It was only a minute or two before you were all the way inside. If you weren’t actually trying to make her cum, you might just stay like that forever, deep inside of Wanda, feeling her body clench and pulse around you. It felt so natural. More natural to you than anything else in the world. Your bodies fit together like perfect puzzle pieces.

You took the opportunity to crane your neck downward and trace your tongue over her sensitive nipples. She gasped, squeezing her eyes closed and burying her hands in your hair. You sucked the hardened bud into your mouth and gently flicked it with the point of your tongue. Her body was taut like a bowstring, hardly moving under you aside from a few swallow gasps. You moved to the other side, gently circling the exposed one nipple with your fingertip while you did the same with your tongue on the other.

“Keep going, baby,” she panted, arching her chest up into you. She reached one of her hands down to play with her clit. “That feels so good. Mama is so sensitive for you. Mama’s body knows you’re her baby.”

You moaned at her words, your mouth and fingers doubling down. Her body shuttered and you felt her start to pulse around the strap. You felt a surge of warmth pool between her legs. You pulled your head up to look her in the eyes. “Did you just…”

She nodded and chuckled a little bit. “I told you I was sensitive.”

Your eyes went wide. You had never made her cum so fast. But a certain pride swelled up in your chest as you watched her body react to what you were doing. You gained a bit of confidence: enough to start rolling your hips in a steady motion against hers.

The smug chuckle immediately stopped as the strap started to scrap her sensitive walls. The toy was traced with vein-like bumps that scratched at that special spot inside of her. Her hands shot up and wrapped around your back, clawing gently at your shoulder blades and the length of your spine. “Ah!” she squeaked in pleasant surprise. You’d never quite taken initiative like this before. “Good girl. You're making mama feel so good. Keep going, just like that.”

She wrapped her legs around your waist, keeping your thrusts shallow and deep. “Oh god. I want to feel your cum inside of me, angel. You’re gonna make mama feel so full and happy. Tell me you want to cum inside me, sweet girl.”

“I wanna cum inside you mama. I wanna make you feel so full and… and happy. I’m gonna do such a good job for you mama. I promise,” you stammer. The sounds she was making were music to your ears. Her heels dug into your thighs in tandem with her nails on your back. She was everywhere, surrounding you in every way possible. You looked down between her legs, watching the strap slide in and out of her pussy. That was your cock inside of her.

Suddenly, as if it were some trick of your brain, you could feel it, warm and wet, drawing you in again and again. She wanted you to cum inside of her. You wanted to cum inside of her. You wrapped your arms around her back, pulling her slightly up off the mattress as you started to go faster. You buried your face into her neck, muffling your noises.

“Oh fuck,” Wanda panted, bury her hand in your hair. She cradled your head just over her shoulder. “Fuck… you would give me such beautiful babies.”

You whimpered and rutted into her so hard and fast she nearly hit her head on the headboard. She smiled breathlessly. Clearly she got you riled up.

“Did that make you happy? The idea of giving mama a baby?” She asked, turning her head so she was only inches away from your ear.

You whined and nodded, rutting into her again. This time she let out a deep, satisfied moan as she felt the tip of the toy kiss her cervix. “You want to put a baby inside of mama?”

You knew it wasn’t possible, of course. Wanda couldn’t have any more children, and even if she could you certainly couldn’t get her pregnant. Still, the idea tickled your brain in all the best ways. It would be a part of you inside of Wanda. You nodded eagerly, biting your lip. “Mhm.”

You wrapped yourself even tighter around her waist thrusting your hips into her with a new determination. “I wanna hear you say it baby…” she gasped. “Tell mama what you want.”

That was all she needed to say to get the dam to break. As soon as you open your mouth, the words flowed out of you in a flurry of desperation. “I want… I wanna fill you up mama. Please. Please, I need it. Please mama.” You were bucking into her like a virginal teenage boy, erratic and sloppy, like you could actually feel yourself inside of her. “You feel so good, mama.”

“I’m so full,” she breathed. She was so sensitive. You were hitting every spot inside of her while simultaneously laying on her aching chest. “Fuck, angel, you’re filling me up so good. Do you want to feel mama cum on your cock? Do you wanna make mama cum?”

“Yes. Please yes,” you begged, rolling your hips into hers. You sat up a little more, getting a better angle that allowed you to get even deeper inside of her. There was a surge of hunger that shot through you at the sight of her, absolutely beside herself with pleasure underneath you. You reduced her to this. You are the reason she feels so good. In a feeble attempt at dominance, you took her wrists in your hands and pinned them to the bed.

“Yes, baby. Hold mama down and make her take your babies,” she moaned.

You whimpered. You were far too small to even attempt to actually hold her down, but the sentiment still drove you both crazy. You buried the strap as deep as it would go, squeezing the base and releasing inside of her.

She arched up off the mattress, mouth fixed in a perfect “o” shape as she came around you.

You stayed like that for a second, buried inside her until she stopped shaking and collapsed back onto the bed. Slowly, you eased yourself out of her, watching your seed spill out of her. You hadn’t expected it, but there was a certain level of discontentment you felt, seeing your essence drip onto the mattress. You gathered what you could onto the tip of the toy and gently pushed it back in.

She groaned, exhausted and unable to move. You gently eased yourself down to lay on her chest, careful to avoid her tender breasts. You went limp on top of her, merging together in a boneless and sweaty pile of heavy breaths as you both tried to recover.

When she regained the ability to move, she scooted back to sit up against the pillows and moved to stroke your hair. The toy slowly fell out of her, and the warm remnants of your orgasm started to pool on the sheets below. After a long moment of lying lifelessly sprawled out on top of her, you heard her chuckle. You lifted your head to find her smiling down at you in an ecstatic giggle.

“What?” you asked, confused as if you had missed some joke.

“Nothing,” she replied. “I’m just happy.” She craned her neck so she could see your face. She was grinning ear to ear. I was a true smile: one she couldn’t even repress if she tried.

“About what?” you asked, confused. Sex, even good sex, had never left her with such a cheery disposition before.

“Just…” she paused a minute, trying to figure out how to best phrase what she wanted to say. “My body is aching for a baby and then I look down and… you’re here.”

You smiled at that, feeling that you had filled some deep biological need within her just the same as she filled one in you. You looked at her swelling breasts, and you nosed at them in a silent question. She guided your head towards her nipple in a silent answer. Your lips wrapped delicately around the hardened bud, naturally massaging it with your tongue. Much to her dismay, there still wasn’t any milk, but there was a different type of magic to knowing there would be, eventually.

The two of you were working together to create a beautiful thing. It was a sort of tangible proof that her body was responding to you, claiming you as her own. Her breasts were growing for you. Filling with milk they made for you. Because she was your mama, and you were her baby.

[doodleoodlenoodlecaboodle]

squid games scent hcs💕

this feels like a weird one to start my tumblr account with but I figured it would help with vibes so let’s do it <333

Summary: just what they would smell like + general vibes <3333

Characters: Dae-Ho, Thanos, Nam-Gyu, In-Ho (frontman version and player version bc I believe those have separate vibes), Hwan-Ju,

Warnings: Spoilers, awful spelling mistakes (I typed this on my phone god help me)

.+’-;Hope you enjoy reading <3;-‘+.

💕Dae-Ho💕

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🍊☁️☀️~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🍊☁️☀️~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An absolute cutie so yk we’re starting off strong with him <333

He definitely smells comforting

Sort of like an airy scent?

My first thought was like a laundry scent with some like citrusy vibes underneath

I feel like he’s always warmer so its just radiating off of him

Very comforting 10/10

During the games definitely loses the clean laundry scent a little bit

Not completely, you can still smell it whenever he holds you but enough that it does radiate quite as much

💕Thanos💕

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~⚡️🍋‍🟩🩷~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~⚡️🍋‍🟩🩷~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanos doesn’t stray far from his bold persona before the games when it comes to products

It’s most noticeably exemplified in his overuse of his crappy cologne

Nothing really matches??? At all??? Why are you using this berry thing with this citrus thing and why is their a woodsy vibe on another thing???

The strong scent lingers in the games it just fades over time

Def something fruity (lowkey it’s probably just the way I draw him in such bright colors that’s speaking to me but ykw idc)

Definitely a little sweaty. He’s high energy and constantly moving around he’s gotta be a little bit

(I love him I want to put him in a Tupperware container and shake him)

a more accurate (and serious description though) would be a fruity blend def sweet with something sharp underneath whether that’s cologne or something more chemical

💕Nam-Gyu💕

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~☁️🥒💫~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~☁️🥒💫~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hc him as being just a bit more cleaned up than Thanos

Not a lot cause this is squid games and everyone is sweaty a lot but a bit at least

I feel like before the games very tame stuff. Prob a hint of a darker musky scent but very clean smelling

fresh I think would be the best word. Like cucumber. Just something fresh with a hint of musk

I think as the games go on there would be more of an metallic scent underlying it

Blood’s definitely an acquired taste but I suppose you’ll have to get used to it

💕In-Ho/Young-Il (frontman)💕

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🌙🖋️🥀~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🌙🖋️🥀~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Luxury

In-Ho is no stranger to wealth and he smells like the most lush subtle yet gorgeously divine vibes

definitely a sharper cologne but more subtle in the application so you only ever notice it when you’re close to him

And boy does he like you close to him, but I’ll save that for another post <3

💕In-Ho (player)💕

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~💫🥀🐚~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~💫🥀🐚~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Old habits die hard for In-Ho so the cologne is not leaving

That sharper cologne that is so delightfully In-Ho is still there but it’s masked by a newer earthy scent combined with the smell of the new tracksuits of the players

Definitely an odd combo but it does aid in softening the harshness of his exterior

💕Hyun-Ju💕

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🐚🍓🌧️~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🐚🍓🌧️~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She smells like wife material

Very soft and comforting like Dae-Ho’s laundry vibe but with an earthier edge to it

Sort of like outside after it rains

Incredibly calming

I think on nicer occasions she would use something strawberry or melon scented

Doesn’t change much during the games, same comforting vibes

[entitled-fangirl]

A ring and a cold heart.

Ivar the Boneless x Lagerthasdottir!reader

Summary: Lagertha's gift of a daughter and Ragnar's monster of a son have loved one another for far too long. But things in Kattegat are fragile, and the two now must make choices.

Warnings: mostly spoilers for S4b

A/n: I had to break this into sections. Trust that p2 is gonna get serious real fast.

Masterlist

........................................

The Seer had been right.

Lagertha would never give Ragnar a son, never bearing one after her Bjorn. But when Earl Kalf came into her life, she suddenly found herself with child.

There was little hope that the child would make it. After all, the Seer said so.

But a daughter?

Lagertha's second chance to make up for the death of her sweet Gyda. She held the babe close.

And yet.

No one predicted that she'd one day end up in the arms of Ivar the Boneless.

…

"It seems like a death sentence," she explained to Ivar. "Suicide, even."

"My father wants me to go," Ivar shrugged. "He needs me. I can't say no to that. To the gods."

She sighed. He was beyond stubborn. A true Ragnarsson trait.

She often traveled between Hedeby and Kattegat, staying with Bjorn when here. It was a strange thing to have her around, but Bjorn was the Prince of Kattegat, so others didn't have much room to question.

Plus, the Ragnarssons didn't mind a bit.

She was neither the daughter of Ragnar or Aslaug, but because of her connection to Bjorn, she was a sister to all five of them.

Well, four of them.

Ivar's love had always gone beyond that. As did hers for him.

"What if you go with Bjorn instead?" She tried. Her hand stretched out over his. "To the Mediterranean."

His head lulled. "My brothers have always doubted me. Not my father. He knows what the gods have in store for me."

"And what if all that is store is your death?"

He ran his tongue across his teeth. "Then I will die."

"Marry me before you go," she rushed out, immediately caving in once it was uttered.

"I will not risk making you a widow before you get to truly be a wife."

She felt tears well up in her eyes. She was never the strong one around. Lagertha swore to have a peaceful reign when she became Earl. There was no need to teach her daughter the hardships of being a shield maiden. She had no need to- Lagertha on one side and Bjorn on the other always. Gyda was so soft. So kind. Y/n was no different, only older. She had a chance to grow up kind.

"Don't cry," Ivar huffed. He had no idea what to do with tears. "I'll be back soon enough."

"Swear to it."

He shook his head. "I will not swear if I don't know the will of the gods."

"Then swear you'll marry me if you return."

He couldn't stop another scoff, "woman-"

"-Ivar, please."

"Ivar!" Aslaug's voice interrupted.

The queen stepped into the room, her worry turning to amusement at the sight of the two. She'd always had an odd relationship with Lagertha. How strange was fate to bring their children together? 

"Let me speak to my mother," Ivar gently waved.

Y/n nodded and stood, but her wrist was caught by him. "I swear to it," he remarked, looking her firmly in the eye.

…

Lagertha had come to Kattegat with the help of Torvi and Margerette. She hadn't dragged Y/n into the plans.

So when she took Kattegat, Y/n stood at the sidelines in shock, even letting out a shriek when Aslaug fell to the ground dead.

She wanted to feel betrayed by her mother. She should have. But she couldn't find it in herself. Lagertha had sat on the sidelines for too long as her world was taken away.

So she was torn when Ubbe and Sigurd had come to her privately.

"How are you not angry," Ubbe lectured his brother. "Our mother is dead."

"And it is for the best," Sigurd huffed. "Y/n's mother is the only one around here that knows how to truly mother. Look at Bjorn."

"Y/n?" Ubbe questioned.

She sat with her head in her hands, utterly confused by it all. "I won't choose sides."

"We all know it will come to it eventually."

She lifted her head with a heartbroken look. "Then I side with Bjorn. The side he chooses, I follow."

Ubbe nodded. "Very well. So, we wait for Bjorn."

"No," Sigurd shivered. "We wait for Ivar more."

The three exchanged nervous glances.

…

Ivar had returned first. Carried by soldiers of King Ecbert's guard, he was set onto the wooden dock of Kattegat.

She couldn't muster the strength to go welcome him. He wouldn't find out such devastating news from her.

But the next day, Ivar crawled his way into the feast hall with his picks. The entire room quieted as they waited for what the angry son of Aslaug would say.

His eyes slowly trailed from Lagertha, to Torvi, to Astrid, then finally, Y/n.

She stood to the side, a completely guilty expression strung across her face.

No one was immune to noticing the way his eyes glued themselves to her in every room.

It had been like that since her first visit to Kattegat.

It's what finally drove the stake between Sigurd and Ivar. The love Bjorn had for Y/n that he never had for his own daughter, Siggy. And how Sigurd had loved little Siggy.

Y/n's life was always a comparison to one's already dead. All did it but Ivar. Perhaps that is why she was so content to be stuck in his web.

When Largertha refused Ivar's challenge, he was becoming angrier. He knew his easiest chance to kill her was by hand-to-hand combat. Ivar was a cripple, but a damn good one.

"I will kill you, Lagertha. Your fate is fixed," he growled.

Content with his threat, he looked back to Y/n, pulling a chain from around his neck.

A ring.

She felt something in her stomach twist at the shimmer that crossed her vision. His fingers rubbed over it a few times, egging for a reaction from the girl he promised to marry.

He let the chain drop to his chest with a smirk. Especially when her eyes followed it.

…

As soon as the meeting was adjourned, she rushed out to Ragnar's old cabin. The children had found it when he'd left, and it was their designated space away from the rest of the world. Plus, that was all the boys had to live in now. Ivar would be there.

She rushed in, not caring that the other brothers were gathered around. "Ivar?"

The three others looked at one another with questioning glances before completely packing up and walking out. The brothers weren't about to intervene.

The door closed before Ivar finally spoke. "What do you want?"

"Are you not grateful to be home? To be back? To be the only survivor?" She sat next to him, her voice lowering. "Are you not happy to see me?"

He scoffed, turning away.

"I didn't know, Ivar. I swear to you."

"Seems like we enjoy making swears we don't intend to keep, hm?" He mocked. 

Her eyes moved down to the chain again. She sat up straighter and brushed a hand over his chest. Over the ring. "You truly won't marry me now?" She asked softly.

His hand wrapped around her wrist gruffly. But after the initial touch, his grip softened. His jaw was clenched, his anger unchecked. But he couldn't help the flutter that still moved through his chest. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "I don't know if I want children with traitor blood."

Her fingers twiddled with the ring. "You know better than I that we don't choose our mothers. The gods do."

"And yet, you'll never help me get my revenge."

"No," she agreed. "I won't."

His eyes wandered over her face. The anger bubbled under his skin. But not at her. And that frustrated him more. "I'll still marry you. But you cannot fault your future husband when he has his revenge."

"But Bjorn will-"

"-That is my offer to you, my love. If you want this ring," he offered, pulling the chain from around his neck and setting it on the wooden table, "Then that is your choice. I have taken my stand. You know what I will do. Will you still marry me?"

She stared down at the jewelry. She'd longed for this for years now. Being his wife.

This could make or break everything.

"I… I don't know," she admitted back to him.

"You don't know?"

"I should wait. For Bjorn to come back. And Hvitserk."

He set a heavy hand on her thigh. Not menacing, but not softly either. "Will you ever choose things for yourself? Or will you wait on Bjorn hand and foot as he decides your fate?"

"Ivar-"

"-No. I do not mind if you must think on it more. But do not do what Bjorn says purely because you think it is right. He makes mistakes." His head tipped down and his gaze turned menacing. "You will choose."

She nodded. "I need time."

"Good," his voice lightened. He even managed a smile. His body leaned forward like he was thinking of kissing her, but he paused and gave a quick nod of his head in acceptance. Then he looked at the ring and her one last time before pulling himself down to the floor and leaving.

She exhaled a long breath, taking the chain and placing it around her neck, tucking it away.

…

Another feast, another problem.

Y/n wasn't far off from Torvi and Astrid, hearing them speak about something being wrong as the large doors closed.

"Like what?" Astrid asked.

"I don't know, but something."

Sigurd let out a small grunt as someone grabbed him from behind and held him at knifepoint. That began a whole group coming forward and grabbing at Lagertha's shield maidens and earls alike, restraining them all.

A hand grabbed Y/n's wrist, holding it out.

Ivar's ring was wrapped around her finger. She'd chosen.

Whoever it was dropped her hand entirely and stepped away from her, meaning she stood amidst the chaos, entirely left alone.

Everyone began to part, and Y/n tucked away towards Sigurd. Her hand grabbed the wrist of the man holding him in an attempt to pry him away.

Ivar and Ubbe approached Lagertha's throne. Lagertha was rather unfazed by it, standing and grabbing her sword slowly. She was a fighter to the end.

Ivar was impressed by her willingness to face him. He sat up with his spike as Ubbe circled around the queen.

The tension could be cut with a knife. Waiting for someone to make the first move.

The door burst open, and in walks Bjorn.

"If you kill her, my brothers," he sauntered, "you'll have to kill me too."

Y/n and Sigurd both let out relieved sighs. The argument was far from over. But with Bjorn there, the fight would not be one-sided.

"Maybe we should," Ivar warned.

"Shut up," Ubbe immediately countered. He respected Bjorn immensely, and starting conflict with Ironside was like starting to dig your own grave. "She killed our mother," he mentioned. Bjorn would see where he was coming from. Surely.

"I know. You want revenge. So would I." He took in a deep breath. "But more importantly, we have to avenge our father. That is why I came back. And that," he tapped his axe against Ivar's cheek, "is what we are going to do."

Lagertha smiled and threw down her sword, prompting the rest to follow.

As Sigurd was let go, Y/n immediately tended to him, rubbing a soft hand over his neck at the irritated skin. 

Frustrated, Ubbe and Ivar left.

She was torn between following them and staying with Bjorn and Lagertha.

But after speaking to the new queen, Bjorn spotted her. That made the decision. She approached him, smoothing out her dress as she weaved through everyone.

Within a few minutes, the feast began again like nothing had happened, but Bjorn was still far from jovial.

She wasn't even sure the viking knew what that word meant.

"So, I travel all the way past Frankia, through pirated seas and storms, I keelhaul my own uncle, and still," he grumbles, "things turn to ruin here the moment I turn away."

"You hated Aslaug," Y/n points out. "You always have."

"Since I watched her sleep with my father the first time they met, yes. Yes, I have," he complained. "But our mother has caused a rift that I'd rather not have now. I have revenge of my own to get and I need my brothers in order to do it."

"You have your brothers," she pointed out. "Of Ragnar's wrongful death, you all agree."

"I will not play guard to mother's kingdom more than I did before. I want to sail. To travel."

"Then don't."

He let out a long sigh. "This is why I love the sea. It is predictable. People are not. Like you," he pointed his cup towards her.

"Like me?"

"You wear a ring and you say nothing about it. You have not asked for my allowance. Let me see it." He held out a large hand, to which she slipped the band off and gave to him. 

Bjorn flipped it in his palm a few times before a daunting thought came over him. "Where did you get this?" He questioned roughly. "Who is proposing with this ring? I'll kill him."

"Brother," she scoffed. "Why the sudden rage?"

"Does mother know?" He asked in complete ignorance of her previous question.

"No. No, and she won't. Not right now."

"I'll ask one more time," Bjorn growled, leaning across the table. "Who is proposing with Mother's ring?"

Oh.

Where had Ivar gotten Lagertha's ring? 

"Our mother wore this ring until the day she and I left Ragnar. Her wedding band. Now answer the question, sister."

"Give it back, Bjorn." She tried to muster up confidence. It didn't quite work.

Bjorn's lips quirked up at that, all too amused. "I don't think I will. I think I'll hold onto this until you decide to ask for my blessing."

"That is cruel!"

He shrugged. "I don't care. Either you tell me now or he can come get it from me himself."

She let out a tantrum-like grunt and stood up, her chair scrapping against the wood. She weaved through the crowd and finally out into the cold air.

…

The journey was a little harder in the dark than she'd thought. The air was cold and frigid, and she was far from dressed for it. The wind chilled her immensely, traveling down her bones. Her chattering teeth exhaled a visible breath when she saw the cabin.

"Ivar? Ivar!" She called out as she neared.

Hvitserk was the one to come out with a concerned brow raised. 

Y/n felt guilty, still not welcoming Hvitserk after the raid. She all but collapsed into his chest, wrapping her arms around him and finally relaxing.

Hvitserk froze for a moment. Touch was never his thing. "You miss me?"

"Like hell," she mumbled against his chest.

He chuckled and circled his arm around her. "Already using Christian phrases, hm? Don't let Ivar hear you. Congratulations, by the way."

It was her turn to freeze, her head tilting up until she looked straight up at him. "What?"

"You're to be married, are you not? He said so." At her hum of agreement, he rubbed a hand down her back. "You're freezing, sister. You'll catch a chill if I don't get you inside."

He guided her in. The warm air from their small fire immediately caused a shiver down her body. Hvitserk frowned and held a hand to her forehead. "Gods. I'd think you were half dead like this."

That caught Ivar's attention. His head snapped up, his entire body relaxing at the sight of her. "Did you travel this far like that?" He questioned, his hand motioning to her lack of heavy clothing.

She stepped to the fire, sitting down next to Ubbe. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, trying to transfer some of his heat. After all, he'd been scheming over the flames for a while now. He could afford to give some of the warmth up. 

Ubbe gave a small glare to Ivar, effectively telling him to drop the question. "Let me see this ring Ivar said so much about."

Her face dropped. "Oh. I… it's…"

One by one, the siblings realized that something was not quite right and Ubbe should have minded his own business. In all honesty, it was a fair ask. One that usually is fine to ask to an engaged woman. 

Ivar let out a long, loud breath. He seethed from his place at the table. "Where is it? I was told it was on your finger only hours ago."

How to explain that Bjorn had taken it without Ivar immediately growing angry? After all, Ironside didn't know that it was Ivar's. It wasn't personal at all. But that's not how Ivar saw things.

"Where is it?" He asked in a firmer tone. His head tilted. His tongue ran over the back of his teeth. "Did someone take it from you?"

"Don't be angry-"

"-No I AM ANGRY!" He yelled. "Tell me yes or no. Have you gone back on your word?"

"Ivar," Ubbe scorned. "Let the woman speak." He pulled a piece of hair from her face. "Go on."

She sniffled and moved closer to the fire to warm her hands. She stared at her ring finger longingly. "I do, Ivar. I want to marry you."

Hvitserk smirked widely, peering at his brother in a tease. His brother. In love. 

Ivar exhaled in a hidden form of relief. "Alright."

"I did not tell Bjorn about it yet. I wanted to wait…"

"-But?" Ubbe interrupted.

"But Bjorn saw it before I could." She frowned. "Where did you get Lagertha's ring?"

Every head shot to Ivar in shock.

He shrugged. "Father gave it to me. On our way to Wessex. I told him that we would marry when I returned and he gave me the ring. Chain and all. He said he'd worn it around his neck since the day your mother left him."

............................................

[vettelsvee]

LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE My current work in progress High School Teacher!Sebastian Vettel x Primary School Teacher!Reader

Hi guys! It's already late for me but I thought about showing you a bit of the first fic of my newest project, Classroom Gossips! I'll try my best to finish writing + translating this fic so you can have it in a few hours since more people than I thought were interested in this :) Hope you like how this is going!

“How can you say that World War II ended with the fall of the Berlin Wall? My God...”

“It makes no sense at all, but if you ask whoever told you that, they’ll give you a convincing enough answer to make you pass their exam.”

Sebastian lifted his head, even though he didn't need to in order to know who was speaking.

Y/N Y/L/N, the second-grade teacher who is the pure representation of the sunshine itself. Your smile, always revealing your teeth, and your energy, isn’t exactly contagious to him, and even sometimes that'd be enough to make someone want to throw up.

You were standing in front of him, holding an absurd amount of papers. Seb couldn't avoid looking at you. No matter how much you might irritate him at times, he found you more than fascinating. He admired you in every single aspect and, somehow, that made him pretty angry with himself. You took the opportunity to silently show him some drawings of bees. Bees. Happy bees. Sad bees. Damn it, there were even bees wearing party hats and surrounded by confetti, and other baking and having coffee.

Sebastian said nothing. Instead, he ignored you and continued grading exams, but you didn't take it personally since you know how stressed he had to be with his class.

It didn't take long before a series of increasingly loud bangs started to get on his nerves.

When he looked up again, he saw you struggling with the printer, which seemed to have decided not to work.

“Why is it that every time I come here, this stupid, useless piece of junk decides to stop working?” you huffed, nearly shouting. “It’s like… like it’s out to get me!”

“Maybe it’s because you make too many copies every week,” Vettel replies.

“I have to give my students a quality education, Seb. And a quality education includes, among other things, making as many copies as I need to teach the contents properly!”

“And does your quality education include printing an entire colony of bees?”

[redrose10]

Can we do professor/student “quiet baby the others will hear you”. Please ?

<Quiet Baby>

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

Professor Yoongi x Female College Student Reader (both consenting adults)

Warnings: Jealousy, using someone else to make someone jealous, light smut (smuttier than I planned but nothing crazy), swearing

I hope you like it! Also, since it wasn’t noted, I wrote this with Yoongi because it just fit him. I hope that’s okay!

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

There was nothing sexier than watching your boyfriend looking all studious surrounded by books and papers, his tie undone hanging loosely around his neck, sleeves rolled up, and his glasses on the tip of his nose as he was buried deep in thought making notes and editing his paper. His recently bleached hair (he was a sweetheart and let you test out a new product on his hair before sacrificing your own) was tousled from hours of running his hands through it. He was finishing up his dissertation in preparation to obtain his PHD and you were so beyond proud of him.

You were also getting incredibly turned on by the sight in front of you.

Before you knew it you were inserting yourself between him and the table to straddle his lap. Slowly you started placing kisses down his neck.

“Y/N…please.”, he grumbled.

“Come on Yoongi. You’ve been working all night. Let me make you feel good.”, you mumbled into his skin focusing your lips on the spot just behind his ear that always drove him crazy.

“Y/N.”, he hissed as you began rolling your hips a little, “Any other time your clothes would already be across the room, but I really need to focus right now.” He placed a kiss on your lips before scooting the chair back slightly to make it easier for you to hop off.

He chuckled seeing your pout and the defiance of you refusing to get up. “I promise I’ll make it up to you once I turn this paper in. I’ll be all yours for anything you want.”, he said before giving your thigh a light smack to encourage you to get up.

“Fine.”, you huffed and retreated to the bedroom to try and get some sleep instead.

When you woke up the next morning Yoongi was already gone. On Thursdays he had an early morning lecture. Not only was your boyfriend a smart phd candidate, but he was a hard working college professor teaching a physics course.

And you just happened to be lucky enough to be in his 2pm class. Which gave you a great idea because you were still a little bit annoyed that he had rejected you so easily the night before. So you carefully selected your outfit, a short black pencil skirt and a crisp white blouse neatly tucked in with a pair of sheer black tights and your favorite black pumps, an outfit Yoongi had told you many times absolutely drove him crazy. To anyone else you were dressed up to give a presentation or maybe you were having a job interview, but you knew he would know the real reason and it would get to him and you could feel the excitement building.

When he walked into the lecture hall closing the door behind him your breath got caught in your throat. He greeted a few of the students as he made his way to the front of the class. He looked so warm and cozy and handsome in his favorite pea coat his cheeks just a little red from the cold winter air. You smiled when you noticed the blue sweater he had underneath, a Christmas gift you’d given him last year. You were really glad you decided to go back to college giving you the chance to meet and fall in love with such a man.

You did your best to keep your composure as he took off his coat and set up for class because no one else knew that the two of you were a thing. Even though you were two consenting adults, the school still wouldn’t like it.

Unfortunately for you, Yoongi didn’t really seem to notice or care about the little ensemble you were wearing. You didn’t get a smile or even an eye roll which you would have appreciated. This only made you more determined to get him worked up just as much as you.

“Hey Jimin?”, you whispered to the man next to you. When he looked in your direction you leaned over in his direction, “Do you happen to have the notes from last class that I could copy? Somehow I lost mine.” Enthusiastically he nodded and handed you his notebook, “Yeah of course. Color coded and everything.”

“Thank you Jimin!”, you exclaimed, “You’re just the best!”

Yoongi cleared his throat, “Miss L/N…Mr. Park…is there anything you’d like to share with the class?”, he said. Jimin sat up straight and shook his head, but you were less afraid of Yoongi. “Nope, we’re good. I just really needed some help and Jimin was happy to assist.”, you said with a smile. Yoongi eyed you both before turning back to the board to continue with the lecture.

“Wow is it warm in here or just me?”, you sighed quickly undoing a couple more buttons on your blouse. The top of your white lace bra just barely peaking through. Jimin, being quiet the gentleman, did his best to keep his eyes focused on the front of the room. That is until you leaned over unnecessarily close to him giving a better view of your cleavage and bra, “Here are your notes! Thanks again. You’re such a life saver. And a cutie on top of it!,” Shyly he chuckled before grabbing the notebook out of your hands.

Yoongi clapped his hands together, “Well it looks like the snow is getting pretty bad out so why don’t we end class early so you all can get home. We’ll pick up from here next class. Be safe out there everyone.”

You couldn’t help but pout a little feeling like you didn’t accomplish what you set out to do. Although it did warm your heart thinking about how he worried for the safety of his students. As you were packing up your belongings you heard him clear his throat again, “Miss L/N, can I please have a word with you?”

Slowly you finished packing up your stuff as you waited for the last few students to leave the room. When you were alone you walked over to his desk ready to get a talking to or something of that matter.

“I’m not really in the mood for one of your lectures right now.”, you groaned when you got in front of him.

But he surprised you by grabbing your hips spinning you around and pinning you against the desk underneath him, “Yeah then what are you in the mood for hmmm?”

He kissed your lips before slowly moving his own lips down your neck to your chest nipping at the skin and pulling your bra away with his teeth. This was completely unlike him. He definitely wasn’t into PDA especially around the campus.

“Yoo-Yoongi.”, you stuttered out. His hands slowing pulling up the hem your skirt as his fingers trailed up your thighs making your brain turn to mush. “What do you think you’re doing to me huh? You teased me last night when I was busy. I could barely focus. Now you’re teasing me here…showing up to class dressed like this…flirting with Park right in front of me. Do you know how hard it was for me to control myself?”

He rocked his hips against you to give emphasis on the word hard. The feeling making you whine out in need. “S-Someone’s opening the door.”, you finally managed to get out in a panic.

Yoongi grabbed your things and your hand and swiftly pulled you into the small closet off to the side.

On the outside you could hear chairs being moved and a few mumbles from students coming into the room getting ready for the next class.

Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest thanks to the fear of being caught, but your boyfriend seemed to have other ideas.

He gripped your hips pulling you back against him gently grinding himself against your backside. You bit your lip to stifle a moan at the thought and feeling of him needing you so badly.

The professor started the lesson and was going on and on about some equation. You tried to keep your focus on what was happening out there so that you could hear if anyone was coming to the closet and give yourself time to come up with a story to explain everything, but Yoongi’s grip on your hips intensified as he quickened his movements behind you. At some point one of his hands had reached into your blouse and lifted your bra up giving him easy access to gently squeeze at your breasts. The sensation making you arch your back and push yourself onto him even more. Both of you struggling to keep quiet.

Without another word he pulled up your skirt until it was around your waist. The tights were a lost cause those being nearly ripped from your body at the start. The sound of his belt being undone sent a burning feeling through your body.

“Is this what you wanted? What you were so needy for?”, he asked.

Unable to speak you nodded.

“You had no problem talking to Jimin earlier, but now you can’t speak? I want words Y/N.”, he whined feeling your wetness with his fingers.

“Y-yes. I need you Yoongi. Right now. I need you. Please.”, you mewled bracing yourself against the walls of the closet.

“Good girl.”, he gritted as he easily entered you in one go. Both of you doing your best to stay silent.

“Yoongi move please.”, you begged needing more stimulation.

“I-I know baby. I just..I need a minute.”, he groaned into your shoulder blade. Still upset about the prior night you decided to clench around him as hard as you could making him hiss before immediately pulling out so he wouldn’t finish so quickly.

“You think you’re funny don’t you.”, he spat while spinning you around to face him.

“Yeah a litt-“, you tried to respond, but were silenced when he hoisted you up holding you against the side wall of the closet. He entered you once again, but this time didn’t wait for either of you to adjust. He started pounding into you with such a rapid pace you completely forgot where you were and a loud drawn out moaned escaped you.

You put your hand over your mouth in shock because it sounded like footsteps were getting closer and closer to the closet.

Yoongi continued to lazily thrust in and out of you like he was determined for both of you to finish no matter what happened and you had to admit that the feeling was getting you close.

After a minute of silence the footsteps moved farther and farther away and the professor resumed the lecture.

You looked at him to see if he still wanted to continue and it seemed that he did because he picked up the pace again while sucking a bruise into your skin. You willed yourself to not make any more noise, but every time Yoongi would hit that spot just perfectly getting you closer and closer to your release, you would whine and whimper just a little bit more.

“Quiet baby the others will hear.”, he smirked before picking up the pace even more this time. It didn’t take much longer for the two of you to both come undone together. He held you up for a minute while you caught your breath. Slowly he let you down and pulled out, both of your wincing at the overstimulation.

“Fuck Y/N. That was so hot.”, he sighed as he grabbed his scarf out of his bag to help clean you up. “Yeah uh…I didn’t mean for it to go exactly like this, but I’m not complaining.”, you giggled, “So uh how long is this class?”, you asked suddenly realizing you were going to be stuck in the closet for a while.

“This is a quantum physics class and it usually lasts about two hours.”, he apprehensively said.

“Well that sucks.”, you scoffed feeling a little annoyed now.

“Does it though?”, he asked pulling you against him once again, “I don’t know about you, but I could definitely go for another round…maybe two.”