#Then there is my mom who was the one who taught me to write and had some self published stuff like 20years ago

[astrangetorpedo]

IN INTERVIEW

Julien Baker, the interview 6/8/2016

At just 20 years old, Julien Baker gave us last year a first album of intense and rare emotional force, the superb Sprained Ankle reviewed here . A moving record that left a deep and lasting mark on me. It was therefore impossible to miss the young American's arrival in Paris and not to take advantage of the opportunity to try to get to know this outstanding artist a little better. A meeting was thus organized thanks to the invaluable help of Sean, her manager, in a café in the 12th arrondissement, two hours before the young lady's very first Parisian concert, on May 24. A one-on-one meeting that revealed to me an adorable and voluble young woman, incredibly touching and sincere, and above all determined to seize life with all her might! A moment of exchange and sharing that I am not ready to forget.

Hello Julien!

Julien Baker : Hello!

First of all, thank you very much for granting us this interview. I am a big fan of your music and it makes me really happy to meet you!

Oh, thank you! It's a great pleasure for me too, you know! I still can't believe that people like my music enough to want to meet me to talk about it. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart, really!

Perfect! Let’s start at the beginning of your story. I read that you’ve been making music for a while now. Could you summarize the journey that led you to where you are today?

Yeah, sure! I started listening to music in middle school. It was rock, I was really into it with painted nails, black eye makeup, all that stuff! [laughs] Then I started playing in bands, punk bands mostly. Then I joined Forrister which is the band I still play in today. We were playing shows in cities around our area. Then I went to college and a friend of mine who worked in a studio there offered me to record with him for free. Since my band couldn't be there, I did it solo, without any specific plans. I put the album out on Bandcamp for $2 or $3 a copy.

That's when Sean [Julien's manager] contacted me and suggested we release the album in a more official and professional way. I told him that I was actually in a band, Forrister, and that no one would be interested in me as a solo artist. He insisted and even though I didn't believe it at all, I agreed to give it a try. I'll always remember the day he called me to tell me that NPR [National Public Radio] was going to play my single. I hung up crying and immediately called my mom all excited to tell her the news! But then, as things seemed to start to take off for me, I started to doubt myself. I felt guilty towards the rest of the band, thinking that they would resent me for doing this project without them. So I called the drummer and asked him what they thought and he said they were just proud and super happy and not mad at me in any way. So I kept going and here I am! I never thought I would come to Europe and do all this, it's crazy, really!

During the band's time, did you already have this desire to write your own songs?

I don't think I had any real unfulfilled desire to do this.

But you were writing?

Yes, I wrote my own songs. But not because the band was holding me back or preventing me from doing it within the collective. It's just that sometimes you write songs but they don't fit the moment. So I put those lyrics aside, like that, without any specific goal. I've always written and played in different bands. There was enough space for all that, things didn't have to be done exclusively in one framework or another.

Were your parents musicians?

Not really. Well my dad bought me a guitar and showed me how to play it. So I started playing by practicing at home on my own. I also took piano lessons but for a very short time. My teacher didn't really like me because I didn't work hard enough. I just played by ear without wanting to learn to read music and he didn't like that. So I taught myself. But my parents were big music fans. They played records all the time at home. When I was younger I wanted to go to a concert, my dad would come with me to make sure I was safe! He was the only adult in the middle of all these tattooed and pierced kids! [laughs] Oddly enough it never bothered me. When he made a surprise appearance at the Bowery Ballroom for my concert in New York, I was so proud! He and my mom have always been a great support!

This is really great!

Yes I know !

In addition to being an author and composer, you are also a student. Are you still going to university?

I just finished my semester. It's currently summer vacation. But I think I'm going to take a break in the fall. I completed the theoretical part of my literature course thanks to online courses. The last thing I need to fully validate my teaching diploma is the practical part, in school with students. I tried to do it last fall but it's complicated to carry out both projects at the same time: give lessons during the week then take a plane to California or New York on the weekend to play a concert, before returning to teach on Monday morning! So I'm going to take a break to devote all my time to music.

Do you want to teach one day?

I think I would really enjoy teaching. I love it. As a teenager I was a summer camp counselor, I love children. So yes it would be really cool to teach!

You studied literature. Did that influence your way of writing?

Yes, totally! I try to feed myself as much as I can from all these different ways of perceiving life and emotions that I find in books. It enriches me intellectually speaking. I have the feeling of learning new things about myself each time I discover a new author and this is then reflected in my writing I think, consciously or unconsciously.

Are you familiar with French literature?

Voltaire! I often joke with my professor friends that I would really like to have a big Voltaire and Cervantes tattoo! I already have a Gabriel Garcia Marquez tattoo [Julien then shows me his 2-part tattoo on the inside of his 2 wrists]…

Is he your favorite writer?

One of my favorites, I can't choose just one! And so when my students would complain that Voltaire is an old man who's not cool, I could show them my Voltaire tattoo and prove to them that it's really cool! [laughs] Reading Candide really changed my life. It was incredible! I think the translation of the title is The Optimist , which is quite ironic. Cervantes wrote Don Quixote and we have this word in English, "quixotic" which means optimistic but optimistic to the extreme, to the point where even if everything is going wrong in your life and you know it, you continue to believe in it despite everything. There is a really romantic and admirable dimension to that attitude I find. Same for Candide where there is this quote that I always come back to when I feel really bad and which says: "I wanted to kill myself a hundred times, but I still loved life" . I think I cried when I first read that sentence. Anyway, I could talk about literature for hours, don't drag me down that dangerous path! [laughs]

Haha, ok. So back to the music! Listening to your album I couldn't help but think of two other artists I really like: Sharon Van Etten and TORRES…

I love TORRES!

Me too! I even did my very first interview with her!

Wow! She's amazing!

Do you agree with this comparison even if the artists in question do not come from the same scene as you?

I totally agree with this comparison! As a teenager I only listened to punk and thought that anything that wasn't punk was worthless. Then I grew up as a musician and learned to appreciate all styles. When you really love music, you love an artist as long as their music is honest and good, no matter what the style. It doesn't matter if it's hip hop or country or whatever!

I totally agree!

And so I'm a big fan of TORRES! I loved her first album, the one before Sprinter . The song Honey is the very first one I heard from her.

The same !

And oh my god, what a song! I played with her in Chicago, I was added as the opening act at the very last minute, I felt so honored! On my way to the dressing room, I ran into her and as I was saying "Oh sorry, I don't want to bother you" she said "No, come on, this is a shared space, you have as much right to be here as I do" and she kindly invited me in. As for Sharon, it's funny because the first time I met her, she asked me to have lunch with her, can you imagine having lunch in New York with Sharon Van Etten! And she told me she was also going to invite her friend Mackenzie [Mackenzie Scott aka TORRES]. But our phones died and we couldn't get a hold of her. So in Chicago TORRES couldn't make the connection, I was just the little girl at the door!

Excellent! Are there any other musical influences that you would claim?

Do you know David Banzan?

Nope…

Ok. There's a band called Pedro The Lion and David Bazan is the lead singer. He influenced me quite a bit. And do you know Death Cab For Cutie?

Yes of course !

They were the first non-punk band I listened to. At the time I only listened to loud and fast music, but when I heard Transatlanticism for the first time it was a shock, everything changed. They really meant a lot to me.

Your texts are very strong and very personal. When you wrote them, did you think about the impact they could have on those around you first and then on the general public?

Well, at first, I didn't imagine that this solo album would lead me anywhere, I was convinced that my music would only be made with my band Forrister. So when I released the album on Bandcamp, I really thought that only my friends would listen to it. So I wrote all these songs like that, just for me, without really thinking about the scope of the lyrics. And I'm ultimately happy that I didn't think about it because if I had known what was waiting for me, I think I would have most certainly changed things, I would have probably been more reserved in my words. But if it's difficult for me to show my vulnerability, I realize that it's totally worth it when young people come up to me after concerts to tell me that my music has helped them in difficult times in their lives. It's of course a little embarrassing for me to share such intimate things but if these things make others feel good, then I think it's worth it in the end.

But isn't it a little scary to expose yourself so completely naked and transparent? It's so brave, I don't know if I could do it myself!

Well, you see, it's exactly the same for me, I'm not sure I would have been able to do it if I had known everything in advance! But now that it has happened, I feel that from now on I have the right, the license to be brave. Perhaps it was the plans of destiny or God, something like that.

And isn't it too difficult for you to sing songs every day that inevitably bring you back to painful moments?

I think there are two options. Option one: I can sing these songs every night, let them take me back in time and feel sorry for myself. Option two: there is the quote from this poet that I love who says that all the horrible things in life just need to be seen from a different and courageous perspective. Things that seem bad can indeed turn out to be good in the end. So I have chosen to let the dark and sad aspects of my songs become pretexts to be positive and happy. Because yes, all these things have happened to me but if that had not been the case, I probably would never have written these lyrics and I would not be here today in Paris talking to you, Laurence! In the grand scheme of things, everything has a meaning and works for our good in the end.

That's very beautiful what you say! [laughs] To talk about lighter things, this is your first time in Europe, isn't it?

Yes !

How do you feel?

I love it! I have such a good time. Well I don't sleep much... [laughs]

Is it the time difference or the excitement?

Well now it's the excitement! But a week ago it was also the jet lag [laughs]. Imagine, we traveled for over 30 hours straight to get here! I first took a plane to Richmond and then a train to Washington DC. We then took a flight to Iceland where we took another flight to Copenhagen. Once there we took a train but due to a problem on the tracks we had to take a bus that took us to another train! When we arrived at the hotel, we were totally exhausted! [laughs] It was 11 o'clock in the evening but at that time of year the sun hadn't set because we were so far north and my body didn't understand anything at all! But hey after a good night's sleep everything was better! And now if I don't sleep it's just because I don't want to miss anything, not a single minute you know! I thought I would never be able to afford to travel and once again it seems that Destiny's plans are extraordinarily kind to me. I feel so grateful and lucky!

And that's just the beginning!

I hope so! But you know, even if everything had to stop, well in any case it would have been much, much more than I could have imagined! I am so grateful for everything that is happening to me!

Are there any particular places you want to discover?

Sean has been here before and wants to show me places he liked. Today he took me to see the Sacré-Cœur which is beautiful. On my side, there are also places I would like to visit, especially in Barcelona, ​​because I am majoring in Spanish literature. I would like to go to the café where Picasso had his very first exhibition, long before he was famous. I would also like to see the Sagrada Familia, Gaudi's work, visit a museum, buy a Viva Cataluña t-shirt and eat paella. I am so excited to be able to do all these things!

That's great! But it's going to take you some time to do all of this!

We are staying there for the whole festival [Primavera Sound Festival]. So we should have some time. Of course we won't sleep much because in the evening I also want to attend the concerts!

You'll sleep when you get home!

Exactly! Since I am a big coffee drinker, one of my friends gave me a badge for my jacket that says "I will sleep when I am dead" ! [laughs] There are indeed so many things to experience in one life! [laughs]

And what are your plans for after the European tour?

We're actually going to be touring until the end of the year.

Will you come back to Europe?

We're going to Australia in November I think. I can't wait! We're also going to tour the States so as for Europe I don't really know... And then I hope to have some free time early next year. I'm always writing new songs that I play live. I must have 30 demos on my computer and I'd really like to record them. So it would be great if I could get into the studio early next year!

Last question: do you have one or more musical recommendations to share with us?

Lucy Dacus!

Oh I love it!

We played together in Washington DC. I had never heard her songs before Washington and I remember hearing the lyrics to Map On A Wall which say "I hope good comes from good and good comes from bad anyway" and I started crying all by myself watching her play. Her music is so beautiful, so powerful! And we have so much in common: questions of spirituality, sexuality and faith, questions about gender too and the place of girls in rock music. We are really like two halves of the same person. We have the same booker and were approached by the same label. And when I saw her again in Richmond I knew we operated exactly the same way. So our biggest fear is that we will one day become jaded and arrogant. We want to remain grateful, sincere and enthusiastic. There are so many people who do this for a long time and end up jaded. It's really great to find someone who feels exactly the same way you do, and that's the case with Lucy. We're platonic soulmates! She's a very, very dear friend.

You must tell her at all costs to come and shoot in Europe and in Paris because there are people waiting for her here!

Promise! I'll send her a message as soon as I have wifi!

Lucy Dacus! A perfect choice! Thank you very much Julien!

Thank you! It was great!

photos by jean-marc ferré 📸

interview by lolo from paris (who has great footage of that paris show on his youtube account) 📝

wayback link for the interview 🔗

[skunkes]

[maxattax]

Occultism

Ectoberhaunt Day 10: Occultism

CW: Major character already dead

Summary: After Maddie's death, the Fentons hold a séance to contact her.

Jack Fenton was devastated by the untimely death of his wife. She went quickly and painlessly in her sleep, they said. Nothing he could have done. But Jack, a professional medium and exorcist, couldn’t accept the idea of never again speaking to the love of his life. He knew he had to contact her.

Jack sat at the kitchen table, one candle on either side of him and a ouija board in the middle. Across the table sat his kids, Danny and Jazz. Ouija boards were best used by multiple people, of course.

Jazz lit a bundle of sage and let the smoke waft through the room. “I protect this room from spirits who wish us harm,” she said, smoothly and practiced.

Danny lit the candles. “I light these candles to guide a lost soul to the flame.” Jack was proud that his kids so easily picked up their late mother’s role in the séance.

Everybody joined hands. Jack spoke loudly and clearly. “We invite the spirit of Madeline Fenton to speak with us today.” Each of them placed two fingers on the planchette. “Is there a spirit with us?” The planchette moved to Yes.

Before Maddie died, she and Jack had discussed what to do in the event of either of their deaths. In addition to the normal discussions, such as what to put in their wills, they came up with a passcode so that they could prove their identity during a séance. Her death was unexpected, but they were prepared.

“Maddie. If that is really you, what did we want to name our first dog, had we gotten one?” The planchette drifted across the board, frictionless beneath their fingers. B-U-S-T-E-R.

“Mads.” Jack’s voice broke. “Are you happy on the other side?” The planchette moved to Yes, but continued to the letters. M-I-S-S-Y-O-U. Jazz had tears streaming down her face, and Danny’s eyes watered. Jack had to stay strong for his family.

Danny spoke up. “Is there anything you want to tell us?” T-E-A-C-H-Y-O-U. It paused. M-A-N-Y-D-I-S-C-O-V-E-R-I-E-S.

Jack was overjoyed. Maddie wanted to continue their research on the paranormal from beyond the veil. He would still get to talk to her about their life’s work. “In that case, let us move to something a little easier to communicate with. Thank you for speaking with us.” The planchette moved. T-Y-I-L-Y.

“We love you too Mom,” Jazz said, voice cracking, a smile on her face.

Danny and Jazz were a bit more composed by the time Jack got the recording equipment set up. They’ve been so sad since their mother passed; Jack was glad they were able to make contact.

“Dad,” Danny said after several minutes of silence. “Why Buster?”

“Well, Ghostbusters had just come out. It’s not exactly accurate, but it’s a movie about ghosts! We loved it. Unfortunately we weren’t able to get a dog, living on campus, but if we were, we would have named it Buster.”

Danny shrugged. “Fair. It’s a good movie.”

Jack smiled. He connected the microphone to the laptop.

“Why didn’t we say goodbye when we finished with the board?” Jazz asked.

“Well, she wanted to stay and talk, so we don’t want her to leave yet. We’re all set. I’ll start recording.” He reached over and pressed Record.

“If there is a spirit with us, please identify yourself. If you are Maddie, please repeat our passcode.” He paused for a minute, allowing her time to respond. He continued on in this manner, asking questions about the afterlife. “What is it like?” “Are you confined to the house?” “Can you see other ghosts?” Danny and Jazz contributed their share of questions as well.

When they finished recording, Jack dismissed the spirit and pressed Play. There was not a dry eye in the room when the three Fentons heard Maddie’s voice, crackly but recognizable. She answered all of their questions, and then some.

Jack may have lost his wife, but at least he did not lose his research partner. Knowing that she was only a ouija board away lent comfort to Jack and his family in this difficult time.

[our-lady-of-mcr]

everytime i think im done ranting i remember something else LMFAO this one is extra long i hit tag limit god mf damn

[godblooded]

i just gotta say peoples' obsessions with writing toxic relationships just concerns the shit outta me on this hellsite.

[magdaclaire]

i just spent 20 minutes getting dressed, putting on shoes, putting on jewelry, and doing my hair (a very long time for me, i usually do it in ten minutes or less) and my mom STILL wasn't even STARTING to get dressed yet

[ribcagewolf]

worst way to love someone is quietly/////////////

[gatsby-system-folks]

I have a lot of thoughts about ai and most of them are sad

[volkswagenital]

got a call from my eomma and apparently one of her coworkers kids is interested in learning korean and long story short my eomma thinks id be a good fit for teaching her. its honestly really sweet to hear and tbh im interested in doing it so i think i have a student now

[artandsomethingcreated]

It isnt that i didnt see where people were coming from about long fic. The responses about not reading anything really long.

But today i was looking for a nice fanfic to read, and i found a long one that i thought may be interesting. I had to back out before geting to far because it was just... boring.

When ever that happens i have taken to forceing myself to read and figure out why i dont like it. And that brings me to why i think people balk at high word counts.

It was boring because it had to many words. To much was said with 5 or even more sentences when it could have been 2 or just left out completely.

I am aware what i have now on my story likely needs to be cut and combined in places.

That there are to many of the wrong words. Places where more descriptions are needed and places where characters get stuck in their own heads.

But despite being at almost 150k words i am actually trying to keep it short.

The problem is i am focusing on charicter development, and well there is so so much there and it is slowing me down lol.

Hopefully what i end up with will not be boring. I plan on asking my beta readers to mark where it drags so i can fix it. But i would rather not bore my friends and make them regret agreeing to this 🤣

[myname-isnia]

It’s all “take care of your inner child!! Treat them the way you wanted to be treated years ago and it’ll help you heal!!” until said inner child is throwing a tantrum about having to go eat dinner

[shitacademicswrite]

I want to share something for those of you who are teaching and want your conservative students to be more open-minded to liberal ideas that you’re presenting.

I grew up in a conservative family and a conservative town, and like most conservative kids, had been told that colleges were hotbeds of liberalism, so I was already defensive politically when I started college. My first semester or two I was really skeptical of everything political that my professors presented me with.

And then I took a women’s studies course (required at my college). And on the first day, the professor said, 

“You don’t have to be a feminist. There are days when I’m not a feminist. But we’re going to discuss feminist ideas in this class, and you might find that you agree with some of them and disagree with others, and that’s fine.”

And that took the pressure off. By telling me that I didn’t HAVE to be a feminist, that I didn’t HAVE to agree, that professor started me on the road to becoming a feminist. I particularly remember her giving us information about what a huge percentage of the housework was still done by women, even in [hetero] couples where both the man and woman worked outside the home. And after that I remember saying, “I’m not a feminist, but I can see where they’re coming from.” 

Within 5 years, I was claiming the term and coming out to my mom as a feminist.

So when I taught college writing, I assigned politically liberal essays to my students, many of whom came from conservative backgrounds. And before they read the first one, I would say,

“The reading for the next class--I want you to know that you don’t have to agree with it. You don’t have to agree with anything that your professors teach you in college. But the point of a college education is to have your mind opened to other points of view. So you’re not required to agree, but you are required to approach the reading with an open mind. You might find that you agree with some things the author says and disagree with others. And that’s cool! We WANT you to use your critical thinking and decide for yourself what you think about things! But to do that, you need to give people the benefit of the doubt and be open-minded to what they have to say.”

And I have to say, it worked really well for me! I remember in particular that after I assigned the essay “Black Men and Public Space”, one of my students wrote in her reading reflection,

“I was taught in school that racism in America ended with Martin Luther King. I am appalled to discover that this is not true.”

Priming your students to be open-minded, while also encouraging them to use critical thinking, can help to break down some of the automatic defenses against new ideas that students are often taught. Approaching your students’ comments during discussion with an open-minded view yourself, validating their experiences while also making gentle counterarguments, can do a lot as well.

[sescoups]

on my knees - choi seungcheol

masterlist

summary: your best friend and roommate is out of the country, and you come home to find nothing short of a disaster. who else would you have called but her brother?

word count: ~9k oops

a/n: I have no fucking clue what happened to me, but I just started writing and then didn't stop for like 4 hours so. here you go. you're welcome and also I'm sorry.

18+ MDNI!! warnings under the cut!

warnings: heavy kissing, seungcheol is the epitome of a Simp, p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't), oral sex (f receiving), slight size kink, let me know if I missed something!

You had been best friends with Sua since you were both six years old. One of the older boys had pushed you onto the ground, wanting to be ahead of you in the line for the slide. Most of the other kids had laughed as tears started pouring down your cheeks, your knee rubbed red and raw and your pretty dress covered in dust and gravel.

“Are you really so immature you can’t even wait your turn?” a small voice had piped up.

Through the haze of your tears, you had seen a pretty black-haired girl kneel down to help you out. She had brushed away the worst of the dirt from your dress, and leaned in to look at your knee.

“I don’t know much about scrapes,” she said thoughtfully, “but I think you should clean it. That’s what my mom always says to me and my brother.” Then she smiled before standing up and glaring at the boy again. “You’re a poopyhead, and I will never play with you.”

Thinking back on it as adults, you always laughed at her phrasing; even more amusing was the way the little boy had taken Sua’s comment way too seriously and tried to fight her in the playground. Before any of the adults had been able to intervene, Sua’s older brother had stepped between the two of them menacingly, arms crossed across his chest. He was three years older, so the other boy quickly back-tracked when faced with Seungcheol’s nine-year old frame. After the little boy had run away out of fear, crying, the two siblings had helped you off the ground and to your parents.

The rest was history; playdates as children, study dates in middle and high school, and spending every single summer vacation together. You had gone from climbing trees to shopping at the mall, and from learning the alphabet to crying your way through chemistry together. Well, you more than her, but still. The suffering was mutual.

Your dynamic remained largely unchanged throughout the years. You were the crier, and Sua was the fixer. You hated the way you cried at the smallest inconveniences, and often felt bad for Sua for having to fix it, but she always said it was cute. She said you were just like that, and that was okay. Sua had her own quirks, mainly being quick to anger - you reassured her that you didn’t mind holding her back from fights and silencing her before she could yell insults at undeserving people, so really, you were the same. Just, you know, in a different way.

Another thing that never really changed was the way Seungcheol took care of the both of you. He helped out with homework when he could, taught Sua how to fight (truly a dubious decision considering her anger, but that was his business and not yours), and scared away any icky boys that were mean to you.

It was a very different dynamic to how other siblings seemed to act, but since you were an only child, you wouldn’t really know. Though, to be fair, he seldom held back the snarky comments when the opportunity presented itself. He would roll his eyes whenever you cried, call Sua an idiot when she didn’t understand a math problem, and generally be a dick when you played games together. It was all in good fun, you supposed.

Now, being 24 years old and two years out of college, Sua was your roommate and your rock. She was the one who put up with your generally messy habits and lack of cooking acumen, and she only complained once a month or so. In return, you were the one to make sure bills were paid on time and keep the freezer stocked with ice cream during the hot summer months. A symbiotic relationship, if you’d ever seen one.

You saw significantly less of Seungcheol, though he was far from an uncommon fixture in your household. He knew the code for the keypad on the door, so sometimes he just showed up unannounced to raid your kitchen and take a nap on your couch, but you didn’t mind. He did tend to fix anything that was broken and clean up whatever you couldn’t be bothered to, so the transaction was fair in your opinion.

One fateful Tuesday, you received a call during your lunch break at work. Usually, you wouldn’t answer, preferring to take your 45 minutes to scroll down your social media feeds aimlessly while eating your food, but Sua had always had special privileges, so you picked up anyway.

“Hey, sorry, I know I’m interrupting your scheduled vegetable time,” she started, and you snorted in response.

“I am not eating anything with vegetables in it, and I think you know it.” You were opening the store-bought lunchbox while speaking, your phone tucked between your elbow and your cheek.

“If I didn’t cook you dinner every day, you would have scurvy,” she shot back without a second’s hesitation. “No, dumbass, I meant your own brain-turning-to-vegetable time. Duh.”

“Oh, that,” you replied, unphased by her insults and generally snarky tone. You were used to it. And also kind of deserved it.

“Yeah. Well anyway, something came up at work and I’m gonna have to take an unscheduled work trip.”

“Cool. Where to?”

“Tokyo, so not that far,” she sighed, and you could picture her running her fingers through her hair. She never did well with unexpected travel plans. “I have to leave tonight. I just thought I’d let you know, so you can make plans to get takeout tonight.”

You scoffed down the line, placing a forkful of bulgogi in your mouth and chewing quickly. God bless convenience store lunchboxes. “I know how to take care of myself, mom.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, you slob.” Again, you could picture Sua’s nose crinkling in disgust. “I’m kidding, by the way. I know you can take care of yourself. Just letting you know I’m leaving so you don’t think I’ve been kidnapped or killed or something.”

“Thank God I don’t have to deal with the paperwork for a missing person,” you deadpanned and took a drink of your Sprite. “No but for real, enjoy the trip. I’ll be fine, and so will you.”

“Thanks,” your best friend sighed back. “I’ll be back in a week or so. I’m gonna go home and pack now, so if anything’s a mess when you get home- actually, nevermind. That doesn’t bother you at all. Bye.”

“Hey-” you started to protest, but the line went dead and you rolled your eyes.

Well. At least now you could have sushi for dinner without having to listen to Sua complain about the smell of raw fish.

You were so ready to become a couch potato as soon as you came home. One of the new employees at work, Jun, had screwed up a pretty important document, so you’d had to stay late and help him fix it. It wasn’t his fault, he was still new, but you were tired nonetheless. You took your shoes off by the door and turned the lights on in the kitchen, placing the bag of takeout on the counter before you heard it.

The water.

You had never had any issues with the pipes in your apartment, but something had obviously gone wrong with the pipes under the bathroom sink, because the floor was absolutely flooded. You gasped and shut your eyes tightly for a second, willing the problem to be miraculously gone as soon as you opened them again. Alas, no such luck.

The tears pressed behind your eyes, begging to make their escape. You tried to hold them back as you thought about what to do to solve the problem. The faucet wasn’t on, so it was definitely the pipes. Damn. You thought about calling the apartment management and asking for help, but their turnover time was two days at the best of times, and the office was already closed for the day. You heaved a deep sigh as you settled on the best option you could think of. You pressed the name in your contacts and begged the universe that he would pick up.

“What’s up?”

Seungcheol sounded relaxed and unbothered, and you could hear the chatter of a TV in the background. You hated to bother him, but hey, it was his little sister’s apartment too. You cleared your throat to try and get rid of the thickness in your throat brought on by the tears.

“Hey, Cheol,” you began, and you heard him sit up immediately and pause whatever was playing on the TV.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

He sounded worried; he usually only called you an endearment when he was worried or teasing you. Clearing your throat had evidently not been enough to get rid of the tears in your voice. Some of them finally escaped in tracks down your cheeks, and you swore, leaning your forehead against the doorframe.

“So uh, I just got home, and Sua isn’t here because she’s in Tokyo and I-”

“Y/N, I don’t care about Sua right now. I know she’s fine, she landed half an hour ago. What’s going on with you?”

“The guest bathroom is flooded, like completely, and I don’t know what to do.”

You heard the rustling of clothes and what sounded like keys jingling through the phone. “Jesus Christ, I thought you were fucking dying,” Seungcheol scolded, and you hiccupped a little, apologizing. “No, don’t worry darling, I’m coming over to help, okay?”

“Okay.”

You were sniffling, and you heard him curse under his breath. You hung up after a quick goodbye, and then you were left alone with the mess again. Looking closer, you realized that the bath mat was soaked along with a towel left on the floor. You sighed and took your socks off, deciding to do something productive while waiting for your knight in shining armor.

You took a picture and sent it to Sua, who replied immediately with a bunch of question marks and swear words directed to the apartment management. She also realized they would be no help at this hour. Great.

Once the soaked bath mat and towel were hung up and dripping into the tub as opposed to the flooded floor, you started clearing out some of the decorations that were taking up floor space. There was a giant plant, two laundry baskets, and a really heavy wooden dresser that held all your clean towels - you didn’t want the wood to rot.

You heard the door open while you were in the process of moving the plant. Honestly, you should have waited for Seungcheol to move this one; the plant was heavy as fuck and really awkward to carry, and you could feel your back protesting before you had even gotten it outside of the bathroom.

“What the hell, Y/N.”

The voice was closely followed by a pair of hands grabbing the plant from you and heaving it outside of the door in mere seconds. Showoff.

“Are you okay?” Seungcheol asked after placing the plant down on a towel, grabbing your upper arm gently. You nodded, and he sighed, squeezing your arm. “Let’s see the- oh fuck.”

You couldn’t help it, you started laughing. Hysterically. The bathroom floor was covered in two inches of water, and the sound of more spraying out was echoing off the walls. Your best friend’s brother glared at you for two seconds before he started laughing too. It wasn’t funny, but it kind of was. How had this even happened? And how had Sua not seen anything when she was home to pack?

“Sorry, Cheol,” you giggled, wiping under your eyes to get rid of the tears that were still falling. Typical. “I, uh, wanted to move the plant and the dresser to make more room and-”

“Darling, that plant was almost heavier than you are. Not to mention that dresser. What were you thinking?”

His voice soothed your panic. He had been solving your problems for the past eighteen years, after all; this was nothing he couldn’t handle. He looked ruffled, you realized. He had been relaxing after a long day at work when you called, and had gotten to your apartment as fast as he could just to help you. And now he was here, being all nice and caring and calling you sweet names. You felt like a stupid child.

“I-I’m sorry. For calling you, I shouldn’t have, I-”

“Absolutely not. You can call me about anything at any time, you got that?” he asked sternly, gazing directly into your eyes. You swallowed, but nodded. His words gave you unwelcome butterflies, the intensity of his gaze making you look away.

“Got it,” you replied when a nod didn’t seem to be enough for him. “Uhm, so how do we deal with this?”

For a moment, the only sound you could hear was the steady spray of water coming from under the sink. You realized that all the products underneath would be useless now, and you would probably have to change out the entire cabinet housing the pipes. You felt a migraine start a steady throb against your temples, and you deflated even more, resting against the doorway.

“It’s okay, I’ll fix it for you, darling,” Seungcheol said softly, pulling you in for a hug. Your stomach erupted in butterflies again. You seriously needed some psychological help.  “Just go change, okay? You must be exhausted.”

You shook your head, but relented when he lifted an eyebrow at you. You went to your room and closed the door. For a moment, you just stood there, staring at nothing. Your bathroom was flooded. And your best friend’s brother was helping you fix it, calling you sweet nicknames and saying shit straight out of a romance novel - as if your dumb crush on him needed any more encouragement. You sunk onto the edge of your bed for a moment, just breathing deeply and blinking back more tears. Enough was enough.

When you were fourteen or so, you’d had a crush on Seungcheol. Who wouldn’t? He was tall, pretty, smelled good, and helped you with your homework. Ever since then, it would come and go, usually at the most inopportune times. You appreciated his looks pretty often, particularly when he came over to fix stuff for you and Sua, but you tried not to think about it much - mostly out of self preservation. He was still pretty, still nice, still smelled good, and whenever you let your mind wander for more than five seconds, you knew you were in danger.

You definitely should get it under control. First of all, he had known you since you were six. He had seen all your weird phases, watched you find your own identity, and that came with some really cringy stuff. Additionally, you were his little sister’s best friend. You had some loyalty to her, sure, but more than anything you were sure that he saw you as an extra sister or something. Considering the amount of time you had spent at their house growing up, that would only be logical.

Armed with the reminder of why he would never be into you, you shook it all off. You located your regular home attire - bike shorts and a big t-shirt which origins you forgot - and put your hair up and out of your face. Then you steeled yourself again, vowing not to cry at the sight of the water, and walked back towards the accursed bathroom.

You found Seungcheol on his knees in front of the open cabinet from where the water came. He was hunched over, hand in front of him to block some of the water and seemingly looking for something. His white t-shirt had been sprayed with water, and it was sticking to his chest. You gulped at the sight, repeating that he saw you as an annoying crybaby to yourself in order to stop the stupid butterflies that had seemingly taken up permanent residence in your guts.

“Do you need a flashlight or something?” you asked timidly, making him look up at you. He paused and blinked at you once, twice, before clearing his throat and nodding. You got out your phone and turned the flashlight on, carefully stepping in behind him so as not to splash him.

“I, uh, think we need to remove this middle shelf from the cabinet,” he said, having positioned himself to shield you from the spray.

“Alright,” you replied, placing your phone to the side and leaning to grab the shelf before being stopped by one of his hands. He had placed it carefully on bare skin so as not to get your clothes wet. Damn him. “What? I’ll just grab it and get it out of the way for you.”

He scoffed. “You’ll get wet.”

Now it was your turn to blink at him stupidly, eyes wide and questioning. You could feel your cheeks burning, as did your arm where his hand was resting. This stupid, stupid man was going to make you fall in love with him, and that just couldn’t happen. At all.

“Who cares, Cheol? It’s just water. Let me get it out of your way, and I’ll hold the flashlight again, okay?”

He grimaced, but let go of your arm. You grabbed both sides of the shelf and lifted it. It took a bit of pressure, but eventually it came loose. You backed up slowly and brought the shelf over the tub with the soaked bath mat and dirty towel. Gross.

Even though you had been fast, Seungcheol had been right; your entire torso was soaked with water. You decided that you could do something about it after the leak was dealt with, and so you just ignored it and grabbed your phone again. Your friend was staring at your front with a wrinkle between his brows, mouth open a little, and you rolled your eyes affectionately.

“Cheol.” He looked up at you. “It’s fine. I know you wanted to shield me or whatever, but it’s just a shirt. Now please, help me solve this?”

He nodded wordlessly and turned back to the considerably more spacious cabinet, taking a deep breath. His pout was cute, and you hated your heart for beating faster at the sight of him.

Seungcheol seemed to finally have found what he was looking for, and reached into the cabinet. You altered the angle of the light to make sure he could still see what he was doing despite the shadow of his arm. He grabbed ahold of something and started tugging, his biceps flexing distractingly and his eyebrows screwing up in effort. You were definitely not holding the flashlight in a particularly helpful way anymore, but thankfully your helper didn’t seem to mind.

After a second or two the water slowed before stopping completely, and you cheered out loud. The sound had somehow become grating after only an hour, and the silence was very much welcome. Seungcheol stood up with a wince, holding a hand to his back like an old man. Without thinking, you pulled him into you and gave him a bear hug. You felt tears prick at your eyes again, but held them back. You were just so grateful to have him.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

You felt him laugh against you before he wrapped an arm gently around you and returned the hug. You pressed your cheek to his chest, just standing there and enjoying the embrace for a while before your brain would inevitably come back online. You felt his chin press against the top of your head for a second before he pulled away suddenly.

“Shit, sorry, I’m all-”

“I said I don’t care, stupid,” you scoffed, but your cheeks were definitely getting red now. How could you have just grabbed him like that? And embraced him? You would have cried if you hadn’t been so tired your head felt like it was full of cotton.

Now that you thought about it, you were extremely tired. It felt like a movie effect, the way your blood pressure just suddenly dropped and you swayed to the side. You were expecting a splash and a very uncomfortable kiss with the tile floor, but instead you found yourself back in Seungcheol’s arms. Oh.

Again with the stupid romance novel shit. The universe was testing you for sure. How were you supposed to resist him, really? You were doomed. Even the thought of your infatuation with him being one-sided could no longer bring you back down to the ground. You were simply fucked.

“When was the last time you ate anything?”

And he cares? Fuck the universe, seriously.

“Uhm, I think it was lunch. I stayed pretty late at work, so-”

“Please tell me you have food.”

“Y-Yeah. It’s uh, it’s on the counter in the kitchen.”

Without hesitation, the man picked you up and carried you into the kitchen. Your heart was going crazy, as were the butterflies in your stomach. You were at a loss for words, just going limp in his arms as he brought you to the dining table and placed you on one of the chairs gingerly. You continued to simply blink at him as he disappeared back into the hallway and came back with his hoodie, pulling it over your head before disappearing into the kitchen.

You wanted to scream and kick your feet, because was this man even real? You had no idea how you had deluded yourself into thinking your feelings toward him were sisterly, because currently, your pussy was screaming for him to come ruin you. And honestly? Both your heart and your head kind of agreed at this moment. You were so screwed.

When he came back with your sushi all plated and a glass for the drink you had bought, you couldn’t help but let the tears come back. You hated that you were so weepy, especially in front of a man you apparently were head over heels for, but it was just who you were. You were sad? You cried. Happy? Cried. Angry? Waterworks. You were helpless to it, and apparently to him, too.

“Good job picking up food on the way back home,” he teased, placing the plate in front of you. Then he poured your drink into your glass for you, promptly ignoring the way you were wiping your cheeks with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Shut up, I’m an adult,” you pouted back. He snorted loudly and sank into the chair opposite you, looking at you as you picked up your chopsticks and got ready to eat.

“Sometimes, maybe,” he drawled with a smirk. You glared at him, but your teary eyes had little to no effect, and you knew it. “I’m kidding, baby. I know.”

He was still studying your face as you placed the first piece of heaven into your mouth, sighing happily and smiling in delight. It made him smile, too, and you could have died at the sight of his dimples. At this point, you had just accepted the butterflies and their claim to your stomach; doing anything else seemed futile.

“I’m sorry I’m so weepy, Cheol,” you said between bites, pouting a little. He shook his head but you interrupted him before he could speak. “No, really. There was no reason to cry so much, or so many times, but I just- I don’t know. I literally got home right before I called you, and that was, what? At around-”

“9.30.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair and tilting your head back in exhaustion. “9.30. I’m just tired, is what I’m trying to say.” You sat back up and huffed, sending him an embarrassed smile.

“And what I’m trying to say,” Seungcheol said while you readjusted the sleeves of his hoodie, “is to not worry about it. I know you’re an emotional person, but that’s okay.” He paused for a second, smiling when you almost dropped your sushi into the soy sauce. “Being emotional is just a tiny part of who you are. You excel at so much; it’s okay to have a few flaws. We all do, I promise. Besides, being emotional isn’t really a flaw, it’s just part of being human.”

At this, you couldn’t help but laugh a little. First of all, he was way too well-spoken to be a man in his twenties. Second of all, if he was implying that he, of all people, had any flaws, he was dead wrong. You had never seen him fail at anything, had never seen him do something awkward, even as a child. God, you wished he had, because maybe then he could have remained the brother of your best friend instead of becoming so incredibly meaningful to you.

“As if you have any flaws,” you mumbled, sticking another piece of food in your mouth. At least the sushi was good.

“Oh please, sweetheart. I’m twenty-seven and single. There’s plenty wrong with me.”

You shook your head vehemently. “Being single is not a flaw, you dummy. It’s just a relationship status. Who cares.”

“As if that’s all it is,” he laughed back.

“Okay, so the fact that I’m single reflects badly on me? ” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Good to know.”

Your plate was empty, and your chopsticks were resting on the edge of it. The only sound in the apartment was a steady, slow drip from the drying bath mat in the bathroom. You were staring at one another from across the table. Why the tension suddenly was so thick was anyone’s guess. All you knew was that the air in your little kitchen suddenly felt suffocating.

“You’re single?” he asked after a while, and you laughed a little.

“Yeah, Cheol.”

“What about that dude, what was his name… Mingyu?”

“Ew,” you said, wrinkling your nose. “God no. We went on like, one date and then decided it was weird to be anything other than friends. He feels more like a brother than anything.”

“What about Chan?”

“Wh- Chan? That was four years ago,” you laughed, shaking your head. At the curious tilt of his head, you kept going: “He was fine, we just got stressed during college and broke up. It happens.”

Something about this line of questioning felt momentous, for a few reasons. One, he was inquiring about your dating life, a topic the two of you generally never talked about. Two, he remembered the name of potential partners that had been in your life, even ones that hadn’t stuck around for long (or at all, in Mingyu’s case). And three… the way he looked at you was different. There was something in his gaze that you couldn’t place, something you didn’t know if you dared hope for.

“Well he’s obviously an idiot,” Seungcheol said under his breath. You were probably not supposed to hear it, but you did. Your heart stuttered in your chest as he looked at you guiltily, as if he had done something wrong. “I just meant that- uhm.”

A few seconds passed in silence. You barely dared to breathe. You were hoping he would keep going, hoping he would clarify before your thoughts went way too far again. The tension was so thick it could have been cut with a knife. Finally, he let out the heaviest sigh you’d ever heard.

“No, you know what, I meant it. He was an idiot for breaking up with you, because anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Time stopped. What do you say after that? You wanted to scream with joy and jump his bones, of course, but you couldn’t exactly do that. What if he didn’t mean it like that? If he didn’t feel the way you hoped he was implying? Because he, or more specifically his sister, was such a huge part of your life, and awkwardness was just not an option.

“Are-” you started, but blinked and started over. “Are you… serious?”

“Of course I am, Y/N.” He sounded almost exasperated. He ran a hand through his slightly damp hair, making it fall over his forehead in the most attractive way you had ever seen. Fucking. Unfair. “I’m not- I mean. I get it if you don’t feel the same or anything, but-”

“Feel what, exactly?” When he stared at you in confusion, you elaborated. “Please be clear with me, Cheol. I don’t want to keep guessing.”

It had come out as a whisper, but he had heard you. His expression softened, and the wrinkle between his brows disappeared. His mouth was slightly open as he seemingly looked for the right words. Your heart was beating out of your chest, and you almost felt it in your throat.

“Baby,” he started, and it made your breath hitch. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as dense as you are.”

“Hey!”

“No, seriously,” he kept going, not a single trace of evidence that he was joking, “do you actually mean to tell me you don’t know how I feel about you?”

“Look, I don’t-”

“I guess you don’t, and in that case, that’s my bad.” He got up from his chair and rounded the table, crouching next to your chair and grabbing your hand. “I am so ridiculously into you, it’s not even funny. Sua literally won’t stop teasing me about it, neither will my parents or my friends. No matter how hard I try I can’t stop thinking about you, but I’m honestly not sure I would want to even if I could. You mean so much to me, Y/N, and I really don’t want to be overbearing but I- fuck, I can’t-” he shuts his eyes in an attempt to collect himself, “I love you, baby, and if you don’t feel the same that’s fine, but I at least need you to know that I’m on my goddamn knees for you.”

Your glass, still containing some of your soda, toppled over from the force with which you left your chair. The way you threw yourself at Seungcheol forced him back, but you took the opportunity and placed yourself in his lap as you kissed him deeply. It took him half a second to respond, but then he was kissing you so ardently that you never wanted him to stop.

His arm wrapped around you from behind and pressed you to his chest. You could not give less of a shit that he was sprawled on your kitchen floor, or that you were down there with him, because you were kissing him. You were kissing the man that you most definitely had been in love with since you were a teenager, and fuck did it feel good.

“I, uh, take it you feel the same, then?” he asked after having reluctantly pulled away. You pressed your forehead to his.

“I bet that I have loved you longer.” You were breathing heavily, already missing the feeling of his lips on yours.

“Absolutely not,” he replied before kissing you again.

This time, you couldn’t hold back. You nibbled gently on his lower lip before soothing it over with your tongue. Seungcheol groaned deep in his chest and brought his left hand into your hair, pressing you even closer to him. He opened his mouth, letting your tongue tangle with his, and you felt the way he became jelly underneath you. You were not faring much better, your panties hot and sticky and your hands shaking. Despite this, you snaked one hand into his hair and tugged on it; his hips jumped in response, the action seemingly completely involuntary. You didn’t think you’d ever experienced anything hotter.

“Please, baby,” he heaved as you trailed your lips down his neck, “I can’t take it.”

You rolled your hips against his slowly, and that seemed to be his breaking point. He rolled you underneath him before standing up and taking you with him, carrying you into your bedroom while you followed the shape of his jaw up to his ear with your mouth. A shudder streaked through him as you sucked on the spot behind his left ear, his arms tightening around you and a hoarse moan leaving him.

You barely noticed him closing your bedroom door, only brought back to reality by the sensation of falling when he dropped you on your bed. You whined at the loss of contact, which made him smile; he loved the way you craved him, because honestly, he felt the exact same way about you. So he was quick to cover your body with his, his lips back on yours with a shuddered sigh from the both of you.

He felt so big above you, and yet you felt so safe. Not once had he done anything to hurt you. In fact, he had always been the one to take care of you and prevent you from being hurt. (Along with Sua, but you didn’t really want to think about her at that moment). His weight on top of you made you shudder in delight, your hands starting to wander. You played with the hem of his white t-shirt, still damp from the earlier bathroom catastrophe, but you didn’t care at all. All you wanted was to feel his skin against yours.

He was breathing as if he had run a marathon when he pulled away from your lips. He stared into your eyes, looking for any sign of reluctance, but not finding any.

“Are you sure, darling?” he asked, and your heart swelled about three sizes.

“I’m so sure, Cheol. Please, please, I need you.” You were properly whining now, but you were far past caring.

“Okay baby, okay,” he breathed, pulling away to get his shirt up and over his head. He was about to lay back over you, but froze and let his eyes wander your body. He shut his eyes, his forehead wrinkling once again as he took a few deep breaths. “You in my hoodie and underneath me, I can’t- Y/N, baby, I need a second, I’m so-”

You giggled a little before grabbing the hem of said hoodie, pulling it up and over your head. Apparently, that didn’t help, as Seungcheol’s grip on the sheets tightened and he cursed under his breath.

“I thought this would be better,” you said in confusion, blinking up at him.

“I’m actually going to die,” he gritted out, sounding as if he was genuinely in pain. “I don’t think you realize what seeing you in a wet t-shirt did to me earlier, sweetheart. What it’s doing to me now is just torture.” You flushed at his words, having forgotten that little detail. “Wait. Is that my shirt?” You glanced down and flushed even more when you realized it must be. “Fuck, gonna be the death of me, gonna fucking-”

He cut himself off by pressing his lips against yours again. Your head immediately got fuzzy again, the only thought you could formulate being that of his dick inside of you. When he ground his hips against yours and you felt the outline of it, you let out the most sinful moan Seungcheol has ever heard, which caused his hips to keep grinding into you without his brain’s permission. You disconnected your lips from his for just long enough to pull your wet shirt off your alarmingly hot body, and the man on top of you didn’t even have the strength to look at you without a shirt. He might actually have came in his pants if he did.

You didn’t even mind, because you finally had his skin pressed against yours. The heat of him poured over you, driving you absolutely insane and making you whimper against his lips. If he didn’t do something in the next minute, you would just have to take care of yourself.

“Cheol-”

“Please say it again,” he begged, his lips trailing down your neck toward your breasts.

“Cheol,” you sighed, and he moaned against your skin, his dick grinding perfectly against your clit even through four layers of fabric. You barely recognized your own sounds even as you felt them leave your lips, so high on his proximity you couldn’t have produced a thought if you tried.

When you repeated his name one more time he finally closed his lips around your right nipple, his deft fingers playing with the other and his cock still pressing deliciously against your pussy. Your hips lifted to grind back on him, and he actually whined for you.

“Seungcheol,” you whined, and his only response was a harsh thrust of his hips and another whine. “Please, take my shorts off, I need you to fuck me so bad.”

He let go of your nipple, chuckling as he looked into your eyes and dragged his hands down to rest on your hips. “Want these off?” he asked, flicking the elastic of your bike shorts against your skin. You nodded frantically, pressing your hips up into his again. He looked like he wanted to protest, so you decided to do the only logical thing and beg for his cock.

“Cheol, please please please, take my shorts off? I need it, please,” you begged, your eyes big and innocent as you stared into his. “I want your cock, baby, want it inside me, please.”

Honestly, it was no surprise that his confident facade crumbled along with his will to tease you any longer. If he was telling the truth, and you had no reason not to believe him, he had been in love with you for a long time. You had played dirty by begging him for his cock when he had already been on the verge of losing his mind - especially with those big, innocent eyes of yours. How was he supposed to say no to you?

“Evil, evil woman, fuck,” he muttered to himself as he all but tore the shorts down your legs along with your panties.

The sight of you, his absolute dream, naked beneath him made him believe in God for two whole seconds, for who could have accomplished something like you but an almighty deity? He must have shaped you with his own two hands, he thought, before coming back to his senses and thinking that no, you were a creation of your own. No one but you could have accomplished something like you.

With very little preamble, Seungcheol lowered himself between your thighs, kissing up the inside of each thigh as he went. He looked up and met your gaze, and you had never seen a more erotic sight. Sure, other people had gone down on you before, but none of them had been Seungcheol; none of them had been the one that counted. His big brown eyes met yours, and you swore you saw raw hunger in them.

“May I, baby? Please?”

“You- You’re begging to eat me out?” you asked, in complete and utter shock. You had figured this was somewhat of a chore to him, something that needed to be done both to woo you and to prep you for his cock. One look at his glazed eyes had you changing your mind.

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. His voice was hoarse and his eyes desperate, that simple look giving you enough material for many fantasies in the future. “Please, let me eat you out?”

What were you supposed to do, say no? Absolutely not. You simply nodded at him, and he fucking dove for it. His tongue explored your folds gently but firmly, and as soon as the flavor of you met his taste buds, he was in heaven. His hips ground into the mattress of their own volition as he was lapping at you, his tongue mapping you out and figuring out what brought you the most pleasure.

Seungcheol’s eyes were shut in pleasure, your juices covering his chin all the way up to his nose, but he couldn’t think of anything better. He wanted to drown in you, on his stomach between your legs, or - if he was allowed to dream - underneath you while you were grinding all over his face, taking all the pleasure you could from him.

You weren’t exactly complaining, either. His tongue felt divine, moving to gently circle your clit before he sucked it into his mouth. When your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging in pleasure, your lover let out a grunt that sent vibrations traveling through your entire body.

“F-Fingers, Cheol, please-”

He just grunted an affirmative and pressed his middle finger into you slowly. The warmth surrounding his finger drove him insane, making his hips press harder against the mattress and his eyes squeeze tighter. Having something to clench down on brought your pleasure to even greater heights, and you started to feel the familiar tightening signaling your release. You had felt the outline of his dick earlier, and you knew you would need another finger to make him fit.

“Another, I need you to fit later, baby.”

Your voice came out shaky, but the man consuming your pussy like it was the best meal he’d ever had didn’t seem to mind. He simply let his ring finger join his other inside you, grunting when he felt how tight you were around him. The tightening in your lower belly grew more and more intense by the second, the filthy noises of Seungcheol devouring you bringing you that much closer to the edge. You let out a mewl that sounded like it came straight from a porno, and felt his grip tighten on your thigh.

“I’m so close, baby, so close, please-”

“Come for me,” he growled hoarsely before resuming his delicious torture of your clit.

You followed his request a second later, moaning loudly and squirming around on the bed. His free hand pressed down over your hips to keep you still as he coaxed you through it, and he didn’t stop until the overstimulation almost hurt.

His fingers left your pussy gently, absolutely covered in your slick. You blushed as he put them in his mouth, moaning at the flavor as if you were the best thing he’d ever tasted. And to him, you were. He would remember the flavor of you until the day he died.

Your chest was rising and falling as you gulped down air. The way Seungcheol couldn’t help but grind into the mattress again made you want to cry, because how could he be so perfect? And how could he want you, of all people?

When he kissed you again, you could taste yourself on his lips and tongue, and you loved it. It was a reminder of just how voraciously he had just eaten you out, and you took the opportunity to reach down and cup him over his underwear. He hissed and pulled his hips back, panting already.

“I- you can’t.”

“But, baby I just want to return the favor-”

“My love, if you touch me again I can’t guarantee that I will have faculties to be inside you.”

His words made you laugh, both because of how ridiculous his phrasing was, but also because of the effect you seemed to have on him. Had he really been driven so far by making out with you and making you cum? It seemed like it.

“I love you so much,” you ended up breathing out. He gazed into your eyes so adoringly you felt like time stopped again.

“I love you more, Y/N.”

His response prompted you to kiss him, and he deflated on top of you. As he sunk further into your embrace, his still-covered dick brushed against your wet core, and the whine he let out was almost pathetic.

“I hate to ruin the moment, but please, let me be inside you now. I think I’ll die if I can’t,” he confessed. You laughed out loud again before nodding, kissing and sucking a trail down his neck while he removed his boxers. “Condom?”

“I don’t have any, but I have an IUD and I’m clean.” You could practically see Seungcheol’s brain grind to a halt. “But, I mean, if you don’t want to we can just wai-”

“No!” he almost yelled, his entire face flushing pink. “No, I’m clean too, and I- fuck, I would love to be inside you without a condom.”

You nodded, and he took a deep breath. The thought of having him inside you without a barrier excited you to no end, and it seemed he felt the same. You kissed him passionately again while he lined himself up with your core, and moaned through a sigh as he pushed into you. He didn’t have a monster cock or anything, but it was still bigger than what you were used to taking.

As he bottomed out, he let out a punched out sigh. You could feel him shaking on top of you, and did your best not to move or clench down on him. Unfortunately, your pussy didn’t exactly obey you and clenched down anyway. It made Seungcheol’s breath hitch, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight so as not to look at you while he was trying not to cum.

“I swear,” he wheezed, “you are going to kill me.”

His words made you chuckle, which in turn made him groan and bury his face in the crook of your neck. You were ready for him to move, and told him as much, but he still needed a second. You could feel tears sting the corners of your eyes, as per usual feeling weepy as soon as you felt a big wave of emotion. To distract yourself, you locked your lips with his and kissed him with all the passion you had left to give.

As your tongue tangled with his he groaned low in his throat, and his hips thrust into you of their own accord. Once he had started, he couldn’t stop, and you didn’t want him to. He started out fairly slow, taking his time to make sure you weren’t hurting at all. Then you accidentally clenched down on him, and he could no longer hold back.

He started pounding into you, his cock reaching the deepest parts of you and making you dizzy. You moaned out every time the tip of him hit the spongy spot inside you, and you couldn’t help the way you were clenching around him. You were hurtling toward your end so fast it was almost alarming. He filled you up so perfectly, so perfectly thick and long, it was as if you were made for one another.

Seungcheol was mumbling an endless stream of praise, grunting every time your cunt squeezed him a bit tighter. He felt like he was in heaven, your slick walls molded around him in a way that made him mourn the time spent doing anything other than this. He wanted to keep you like this, impaled on his cock and making you feel as good as you ever had.

Sadly, he was so wound up he wouldn’t be able to last as long as he usually did. While he didn’t blow immediately as he had been worried he would, he started feeling his balls drawing up around five minutes in. The way your nails were scratching down his back wasn’t helping his situation.

In an effort to save himself from cumming before you, he lowered a hand to circle the nub of your clit gently. The extra stimulation was exactly what you needed to build the rest of the way to the edge, and you tangled your hands in his hair as your thighs shook.

“Please, Cheol, baby, I’m gonna-”

“Oh thank God, please cum around me, baby, wanna feel it,” he begged, and it did the trick.

Your orgasm was spectacular, your entire body feeling like it was on fire as you exploded around him. You were moaning his name, clawing at his back and arching your back to the high heavens. Your toes actually curled. It was the orgasm of orgasms.

Seeing you like that, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he brought you pleasure was enough for Seungcheol to follow you over the edge. He came so hard he saw nothing but white, his hips stuttering as he spilled himself into you. His face was pressed into your neck, but his moans could not be concealed even if he tried.

You both lay there, panting and soaked in sweat, for a pretty long time before he finally pulled out and rolled off of you. He sprawled on his back and stayed like that, his eyes shut in complete and utter bliss and his heart beating out of his chest. Your hair was an absolute bird’s nest around you, and there were tear tracks running down your cheeks and into your hairline.

You clumsily flopped over to rest against his side, and he pulled you in until your head was resting right over his heart. You slung your bare leg over his waist, and he groaned in what sounded like agony.

“You can’t do this to me,” he whined, and you giggled lightly at him.

“I just put my leg on you, baby,” you said, looking up at him innocently, and he had to shut his eyes for a second and remind himself he wasn’t dreaming. You, yourself weren’t entirely convinced all this wasn’t a dream; and if it was, you never wanted to wake up.

“Okay, well you’ve just seen what seeing you in a hoodie and bike shorts does to me, so,” he reminded you, and you bit back a grin. It was good to know you could tease him easily.

You laid in silence for a while, just listening to his heart beating against his ribcage. Every once in a while it would slow down, and then he would look down at you and it would speed back up. Your heart seemed to match the pace of his, and you found that you loved it that way.

“So, “ Seungcheol started, and you pulled yourself up on your elbow to look at him as he talked. “That… just happened.” You snorted into a laugh, and he joined you, flicking your forehead gently. “I uh, I’m going to a work thing on Friday. I usually don’t bring a date because, well, because I’m usually single, but maybe, this time, I could bring you?”

You blinked at him slowly, admiring him in the light from your bedside lamp. He was pretty no matter what, but with his cheeks glowing and his eyes glittering, he was beyond what was natural, in your opinion. You stroked a bit of his hair behind his ear and hummed.

“I mean, are you not single anymore?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Uhhhh-” he was interrupted by your laughter, and he pouted at you jokingly. “Don’t do that! I get scared I fucked up,” he said and rolled over to wrap his arms around you.

“I’m sorry,” you giggled, “I just don’t know either.” You paused. “Hey Cheol?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

At your words, his entire face lit up. He started giggling and buried his face in your hair, trying to hide from view. Even still, you knew he would be blushing. His arms squeezed tighter around you as he pulled you even closer, and you didn’t even mind that you couldn’t breathe.

“I was going to ask,” he ended up whining once brain function had returned to him. “Can I?”

“I mean, sure?” you answered, trying your hardest not to just lean in and kiss away his pout. Your willpower sucked, so you did it anyway.

“Great! Hey, Y/N, would you be my girlfriend?”

You bit your lip to hold in your laughter, but all it did was summon your boyfriend’s gaze to your mouth. You released it and broke out into a huge grin, nodding.

“I would love nothing more.”

“So what you’re saying is,” Sua said thoughtfully, “you finally put him out of his misery?”

It was a week later, and you were sitting on your balcony with Sua and drinking coffee. The bathroom floor was now dry, and while the stupid bath mat had been unsalvageable, everything else had been fine. The apartment management had gotten the leak fixed after five days, proving that calling Seungcheol had been the right choice for more reasons than one.

Even thinking about him, you couldn’t help but smile. Your boyfriend. The one who had brought you to a work function as your first date, and the one who had gotten jealous because you had greeted a coworker of his when he was getting you a drink. The one that had helped you save your apartment from water damage. The one you had loved for the past decade.

“Okay but how could I have put him through misery if I didn’t know he liked me, hm?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at your friend. She had her eyes closed, face turned toward the sun like an old lady.

“You cannot be serious,” she said incredulously, turning toward you and opening her eyes wide to show her shock. “You’re telling me you didn’t know Cheol was in love with you? He has been so down bad for you since we were like fourteen, man. He bought you flowers for your graduation. He reminded you to take your allergy pills before going to a dog café.” You flushed a little at your own blindness, but Sua just sighed and turned back toward the sun, her eyes closed again. “At least it will be easy to kill him if he hurts you.”

a/n: if you liked this, please don't forget to like and reblog! <3

masterlist

[gloomwitchwrites]

Just Like Dad (4 of 4)

Content & Warnings: referenced military career, domestic fluff

Word Count: 957

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

Checking through his daughter’s backpack strikes up a difficult conversation.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // just like dad masterlist

Price has no idea where his daughter’s disorganization from, but it certainly isn’t him.

Opening her backpack, Price cringes at the mess. It’s all crushed papers, broken pencils, scattered crayons, and food wrappers. Sighing, Price turns the backpack zipper-side down, the contents crashing to the dining room table.

She is going to sit down tonight and organize this. No exceptions.

Frowning down at the wreckage, Price begins sorting through the papers, glancing at a few just to find some order in the chaos. He picks up a piece of paper and pauses, his gaze landing on the title.

All About Me reads the top of the page.

Price smiles as he starts to read over his daughter’s answers.

Favorite color? Blue.

Favorite animal? Dragon—all capital letters with lots of exclamation points.

Happiest memory? That one just says “ghostie tree.” Her teacher will have no idea what that means, but Price knows, and he laughs so hard he almost chokes.

Price’s daughter adores Simon, and whenever he’s around, she turns into a koala, hanging off every limb. It doesn’t matter if Simon is standing or sitting down. And how does Simon feel about it? He’ll act bored, like it hardly bothers him, but then he’ll strike, tickling her until she runs away screaming only for her to return minutes later to do it all over again.

Flipping it over, Price continues to read, pausing when he reaches information about parents and guardians. This is where he slows and observers her writing. She already filled stuff out about mom, and Price knows you’d get a laugh out of her answers, but the sections about him cool his amusement.

Her answers are idyllic versions of himself, nearly whimsical in the way she describes what he does and how proud she is that he is her father. That makes him ache, brings a tightness to his chest that pushes out all other feeling. Price is proud of his work, and of his career, but it is not a beautiful thing.

It is not sweet or kind or tender.

It is rough. It is hard.

It is heartbreaking.

He has lost so many people. So many good men and women. He’s done horrible things. Stained his palms with blood. These are difficult truths he faces every day.

But there are softer moments in his career of watching those he’s mentored be promoted, of victories and celebrations, of marriages and births, and of all those he’s worked with who have gone on to lead fulfilling, happy lives.

All of that, and this isn’t what stops him.

It’s her answer to the question “what do you want to be when you grow up?”

I want to be like my dad.

Price sighs and sets the paper down on the table.

How does he respond to that? Should he even take the initiative? Should he approach the topic at all?

Price isn’t certain.

“Daddy.”

Price starts at his daughter’s voice. He turns. She’s standing just inside the archway to the living room. She has a perplexed look on her face as she glances between him and the mess on the kitchen.

“What’ve you done with my backpack?”

Price blinks, and then chuckles. “It’s a mess, love. We’ve taught you better.” Her face flushes slightly as she slowly walks up to the table. “You’re sitting down and going through this. No exceptions.”

She nods sheepishly.

Price picks up the questionnaire. “Want to talk about this? I have to sign off on it.”

Her flush grows deeper. “Did you read it?”

“I did.”

She looks up at him expectantly and Price waits a moment to see if she’ll say anything. She doesn’t.

“You said some nice things about me,” he says softly, and she beams. It reminds him of your smile, and that melts his heart down to his toes.

“It’s true,” she says brightly, happy that he’s mentioned anything at all.

“You want to be like me?” She nods. “And what do I do?”

She blinks. “Didn’t you read what I wrote?”

Price barks a laugh. “Yes, love. I did. But I want to hear it from you.”

She squares her shoulders and looks up at him with fierce determination. “You protect people. I want to protect people.”

True. But not entirely.

“How do you think I protect people?” He can see her brain processing the question and attempting to formulate an answer. She chews on her bottom lip, shoulders sagging slightly.

“I don’t know,” she finally says. “But I know that you do. You protect me and mom.”

“That’s because you and your mother are mine to protect.”

Protect is not the right word. While his actions and the things that he does might prevent horrible things happening at a global level, doing so often results in pain and suffering. It’s just what happens even when he tries to prevent that.

“Can I not do that?” she asks.

“You can do whatever you want when you’re older.”

But military life? No. He doesn’t wish that for her, and it’s not because she’s a girl. He’d feel the same if she has been born a son. No parent wants to see their child in potential danger. Doesn’t matter what age.

“So I can be just like you?”

He wants to say “no,” but instead diverts the question elsewhere. “You can’t be anything if you don’t organize this backpack.”

She groans and starts rummaging around in the mess.

Price kisses the top of her head. When he glances up, you’re standing in the archway, a soft smile on your face. Did you hear the whole conversation? Or just the end?

You stride forward and reach out. Price meets your outstretched hand, threading his fingers with yours.

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @miaraei @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @kittytiddywinks @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @nelladowney @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie @tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair

[crxss01]

request ! 😌

i saw something about Mrs. Morales having a picture of Miles’ girlfriend in her wallet and i think it’s literally the cutest thing ever 😭😭😭 could you write some headcannons about Mrs. Morales absolutely loving Miles’ girlfriend? for both E-1610 Miles and E-42 Miles? thank you !!!

— Mama Love

pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ 42!miles morales x fem!reader, 1610!miles morales x fem!reader

summary ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ tía morales really enjoys having you as her son’s girlfriend.

warnings ✧˖ ° fluff, cursing, tía morales offering to whoop miles’s ass for you.

m. list, main m. list.

translations ✧࿓☾ mi niña preciosa: my precious little girl, si la vuelves a lastimar te juro que—: if you hurt her again i swear that i’ll—, no la vuelvas a dejar plantada!: don’t you ever stand her up again, niño no hagas que te golpé: boy don’t make me whoop you.

a/n . . ◟੭ hey, sweet anon! i think i know what fic you’re talking about, but i don’t remember the author. i love tía morales, hope you enjoy!

42!miles morales

this boy does not play with his girl and mom so you better believe that he was so happy that his mom loved you so much.

at first he was worried that his mom wouldn’t accept you or get along with you because in that case he would’ve no choice but to break up with you in order to not make his mom uncomfortable.

she matters too much to him for him to just go and date someone she doesn’t approve of.

but his worries vanished the moment he saw the two of you in the kitchen after he had come from some prowler business and heard his mom talking about how beautiful you were and how you and miles complemented each other.

that was the first time you two had met and since then you were inseparable.

you were the it mom and future daughter-in-law duo.

many times you and tía morales were talking about him and she found absolutely adorable the way your eyes lid up when talking about her son

“mi niña preciosa,” she would sigh. “you and miles are made for each other.”

other times you would talk about the world of fashion and gossip about the women and men in the neighborhood.

one time tía morales argued with a woman after she had cursed at you, telling her about how she was too grown to be acting like that.

you two laughed about it later and she let you know that if you ever needed help from ladies who acted like children to just call her.

one time miles even complained about the amount of time his mother spent with his girlfriend and he got called selfish.

never complained to either of you again.

his uncle aaron once got to hear this complain and laughed at him telling him he’s a simp

miles got you and his mom matching neckless and you two absolutely loved them.

now, neither of you takes it off.

then he got jealous of that so he got you and him matching bracelets.

you have a picture of him and his mom as your homescreen and he got jealous because it used to be only him.

tía morales has you as her homescreen and everytime someone sees it she would tell them that you were her son’s girlfriend who was her niña preciosa.

you would come over even when miles was not there just to spend time with her.

she taught you how to cook many dishes puertorriqueños.

and if you didn’t speak spanish already, she would teach you many words.

would feel guilty when she said a bad word around you and you would repeat it.

“no, mi niña. don’t say that!”

miles always got an earful from his mom whenever he did something to you that she found out of line, like one time he yelled at you.

“si la vuelves a lastimar te juro que—”

yeah, he never yelled at you after that.

or like ever did anything that would hurt you.

miles might act like he didn’t like how close you and his mom were but he secretly loved that.

you and tía morales couldn’t care less if he liked your closeness or not.

1610!miles morales

now this one does love his mom but wouldn’t break up with you if you two didn’t get along.

but since day one you and tía morales got along right away.

it was like you were destined to be her daughter-in-law, like she would often say.

miles absolutely loved that and would often join both of you in your conversations and cooking lessons.

one time you were learning how to make patacón and miles was absolutely freaking out because he felt like you would get burned.

tía morales took him out of the kitchen, telling him that if he kept being in there with all that bad energy then you will end up burning yourself.

she taught you a lot of different recipes from her culture and if you are boricua then you would just make them together, since people use different seasonings for everything.

tía morales and you would walk around the neighborhood, talking about some lady from there who cheated on her husband and how he publicly humiliated her right in front of everyone.

one time miles stood you up for the fifth time and since you didn’t know he was spiderman, you just felt neglected by him for no reason.

his mom made sure to make things clear for him.

“no la vuelvas a dejar plantada!” the look she gave him was enough for him not to make his patrols around the same time as your dates.

he had to apologize with flowers and chocolates that his mom helped pick out for you, she also told him to give you some money.

after that you felt better and forgave miles, but not before thanking tía morales for talking to him.

tía morales and you went out a lot.

like going shopping,

buying ice cream,

going to restaurants where miles tagged along.

miles never felt jealousy of you spending time with his mom but he felt a little mad when he found out that he was no longer your homescreen wallpaper.

he was, but his mom was in the picture too so he got pouty.

he complained right there in front of his mom, acting like a damn child.

“niño, no hagas que te golpé.” tía morales had said, giving him a blank stare.

yeah, never complained again.

but you had to make him your perfile picture in every socia media or he will ignore you.

you made his mom your whatsapp perfile pic though, since she made you download it. (if you had it before then you just put it because you wanted to show off your bfs mother).

she had you as her homescreen and would feel so proud whenever someone called the girl in the picture gorgeous and would immediately say that it was her son’s gf.

in the end you and tía morales are besties.

taglist: @anikaluv @janaeby @queerponcho

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!

[scarletcomalies]

Imagine Natasha, your mom's best friend, who accepted the task of teaching you self-defense classes. However, in just a few sessions, she was also able to tame your arrogant attitude.

Word count: 1,483

Warnings: Theft, mention of knives and guns, brat reader. 18+ content, degrading, restraint, slight bit of dub-con, Nat has a penis, daddy kink, unprotected sex, breeding.

A/N: Not sure how drabbles work, but I was bored at a birthday party, and I felt like writing a little something hehe.

It all started when a thief had taken your handpurse from you and ran away quickly.

You barely felt it being snatched from you, and as you turned around, you realized that the thief was already at a considerable distance.

You opted to simply mutter a curse under your breath and continue on your way. The thief was going to be disappointed when he sees its contents anyway, and you weren't going to run in heels for lipstick, a crumpled five dollar bill and your student ID.

Although it wasn't a particularly shocking event, your mother, with her tendency toward overprotectiveness, was convinced that this event had irreversibly scarred you. As a result, she decided to ask her best friend, Natasha Romanoff, to teach you self-defense classes.

From the beginning, you made clear your disinterest in attending. You arrived intentionally late for every session, and at the redhead's scoldings, you would simply roll your eyes and dismiss her words with disdain. During training, you often interrupted her instructions with snide remarks, and refused to follow her directions, preferring to improvise moves that lacked technique.

There was something magnetic in her determination and in the way her green eyes flashed with frustration that made you purposefully act even more insufferable than usual. You loved to see it.

During lessons, there were times when she would restrain you from behind so that you would repeat the technique she had taught you, and you could feel a bulge in her pants rubbing against your ass.

It was such a yearning feeling, that you would pretend to do it all wrong, so that she would make you repeat it, and in that way, prolong the contact.

"Your mom just wants to protect you, you know?" Natasha remarked, once another not-so-successful session was over.

You were so exhausted, you preferred to sit on the floor with your legs crossed rather than even get up to help Natasha put the equipment away.

"Come on," you scoffed from your spot. "The thief barely touched me. He just took my handpurse and left."

"Fortunately," Natasha replied. "Imagine if he'd had a knife, or worse, a gun. Imagine if you had been alone, at night."

She took your silence as if you didn't really care to understand your mother's point of view, but in reality, you were reflecting. She just wanted you to know how to take care of yourself, in case something worse than that happened. And Natasha had been so nice and patient to you.

But before you could respond, she spoke up, "What am I bothering to convince you for? You probably are so selfish, that you'd let someone stab you just to worry your poor mother."

You weren't sure if her words had hurt or offended you, as perhaps you had taken your attitude to such an extreme that you had actually caused her to have a twister perception of you.

It was true that you possessed certain qualities, but you would never go to such extents. Sometimes you simply felt that your mother's overprotection was excessive, and that made you more irritable than usual.

What you said next was the result of not having slept at all the night before, as you had been studying intensely for an exam. Despite all the sleeplessness, you didn't manage to answer it as you expected, leaving many questions blank. All that you had accumulated, added to her hurtful words, led you to say the following...

"And you probably have a tiny dick," you snapped. "And maybe that's why you're bitter and miserable, because no one wants you."

Natasha was silent for a moment, too peacefully that it was scary, but her eyes darkened, reflecting surprise and fury in their greatest splendors.

"Dare to say that again?" She challenged you, the tension in the atmosphere becoming more palpable every second.

"No one wants a woman with a small dick," you crossed your arms over your chest, arching your eyebrow in that defiant manner she was already more than sick of.

Natasha began to laugh, but it wasn't the sarcastic kind of laugh, no, it was one that was beginning to terrify you and hindering your ability to maintain your composure.

Natasha approached you with firm steps, her commanding presence filling the space between you both. She was so close that you could watch her dark eyes, deep and piercing, burning with such intensity that you felt that at any moment, she was going to set the whole room on fire.

She just pulled down her pants and boxers at the same time, at the level of her thighs, and seeing the massive size of her member, made you swallow your words.

"Is this a small dick for you?" She asked, seemingly satisfied at your shocked expression.

And as if the situation wasn't humiliating enough, Natasha used a quick and precise maneuver, where she grabbed your shoulders and, in an instant, had you face down on the floor.

She restrained your wrists against the small of your back, and by straddling the back of your legs, she prevented any movement from them as well.

"Come on, defend yourself like I taught you," she groaned, pressing you harder against the cold floor.

You tried to free yourself from her grip, but every move you made only brought you more pain, because Natasha, with her keen perception, detected every attempt to escape and prevented it with ease, adjusting her grip to make you feel even more trapped.

The whimpers you emanated were so delightful to her ears, making her cock grow more erect. She didn't know who was suffering the most, whether she for not filling your bratty hole right there, or you, who were being physically and verbally degraded.

"That's what I thought," she chuckled, grabbing the shaft of her cock and smacking it softly against your covered ass.

With one hand, albeit clumsily, she managed to pull down your pants and panties just like she did a few moments ago, and released your wrists so that, with her two hands, she held your waist and positioned you on all fours so firmly that you felt as if you had no control over her body.

"Don't think I haven't noticed how you pretend to be dumber than you are, just to feel my cock against you," she remarked. Obviously, she was able to understand the workings of incredibly complex, criminal and dangerous minds, how could she not detect yours? A clueless, spoiled, college student. "You probably said that just so you could see it, hm? So desperate for Daddy's cock."

But it was very double standards on her part, calling you desperate when she always ended up in the training facility bathrooms after you left, grunting your name between desperate gasps as she pleasured herself.

She ran the tip over your awaiting hole, but as she noticed how it contracted in anticipation, almost imploring to be filled, the last ounce of reason left her body, letting her full length inside you. And better than she had imagined, your warm, wet pussy welcomed her deliciously.

In unison, you let out a prolongued moan of pleasure, both of you mitigating that unspoken longing that had become so unbearable.

Her movements began slow and safe, intending to feel for as long as possible how tight you felt around her, and to hear those low moans you vocalized every time she entered and exited you, complemented by the sloshing sound your hole made at that action.

Her breath quickened, and along with it, her movements. Her hips were working overtime to match her cock's desperate desires, but it was impossible with the way you were whimpering, now high pitched and more frequent.

"Can a small dick fill your hole this good, hm?" She groaned, tilting her head back as she felt her climax approaching.

"No! No!" You cried out, and just like her, you could feel it coming. Your head was growing fuzzy for the pleasure altering every fiber of your being, like the most powerful drug ever made. "I'm sorry, Daddy! I lied! I love your big, fat cock! Please!"

She swore to herself that she was going to be strong and proud enough to stop when you admitted it, having already achieved her goal, but your words made her cum involuntarily erupt inside of you.

That sensation of being completely filled with her seed made your orgasm follow hers a little later, yours and her release leaving her cock shiny and dripping with your mixed juices.

Natasha was aware that even the most intense masturbation would not match how wonderfully your pussy embraced her cock, and how mesmerizing was the sight of your ass bouncing whenever your bodies clashed together. Imagination was not going to overcome reality, in this case.

So she preferred, just this once, not to be frustrated by her loss of control.