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fangirlwriting-stories · 1 month ago

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Brighter Days Ahead

Summary: No One Knows AU Part 30, Everyone looks to what's coming next. (Final Part!)

Author's Note: Hey, thanks so much for reading my accidental stumbling into the Danny Phantom fandom! I hope you enjoyed it, I know I sure did! It was originally just going to be a one shot based on a fic that really inspired me, and then it kind of evolved into something else, and then I just had a thought one day like “hey I wonder if Vlad can get Sam and Tucker to hunt Danny as Phantom while knowing it’s him. That would be a really fucked up thing for him to try to do. I wonder if I can make it work.” And it turns out I could!

Also, something else I learned while I was writing this story is that… I need more of it? Like this did not nearly satisfy the itch I didn’t even know I had. So, if you liked this “Vlad takes advantage of a no one knows au situation” story, you’ve got more coming your way! It’ll be a little different from this one, and I can’t promise when it’ll be posted, but I’m having a lot of fun planning and writing the first parts of it, and I'm going to post what I've written whether I actually end up finishing it or not (it is a monster of an idea). Either way, I hope you enjoyed this story, and thanks so much for reading!

...

Danny sucks the ectopus into the Fenton thermos and lets out a little whoop, spinning to face Valerie.

“Ha! That’s six for me!”

“Oh please, I helped you with that one, it’s a half point for each of us,” Valerie says.

“No, it’s in my thermos, that means it’s mine,” Danny says, shaking his thermos back and forth. “Those are the rules.”

“Oh are they? So if I do this,” Valerie says, and before Danny can react, she flies forward and kicks the thermos from Danny’s hand, catching it easily. “Does that mean it’s mine?”

“Hey!”

“Hey, lovebirds, six o’clock!” Jazz’s voice comes over their earpieces, and both of them spin around to find another ectopus coming towards them.

Valerie tosses Danny his thermos back, and raises her gun, firing it and knocking the ghost back a couple feet to give Danny time to fire up the thermos and suck it inside.

“Ha!” he says again, spinning back to Valerie. “And that makes seven!”

“Wha— I did all the work that time!”

“I am gonna have to give that one to her, Danny,” Jazz says, and Danny glares down at where she’s standing on the ground below them.

“Traitor!” he calls.

“In all honesty, I think there’s just one left,” Jazz says, looking down at the list she’s been keeping. “Mom and Dad’s containment unit had 24 ghosts in it, and your thermos has six of them and Valerie’s has five.”

“Uh, that only makes twelve,” Valerie says.

“Oh yes, sorry, I have eleven of them in here,” Jazz says, gesturing to her own thermos without looking up. “Maybe if you spent less time flirting and more time chasing ghosts, we’d have all of them by now.”

“Oh no way you have eleven ghosts in there,” Danny says, crossing his arms.

Jazz gives him a look and holds up her list, which has all ghosts accounted for except for the snake ghost, difficult to find because it’s the size of an actual snake.

“See now that’s not even fair,” Valerie says.

“Honestly, you can’t just get in the way of our competition like that,” Danny says.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you over the fact of my definite win,” Jazz says, shooting them a smug smile. “I’m gonna take these guys home, have fun competing for second place.”

And with that, she turns and drives off on her scooter, and Danny sticks his tongue out after her.

“You want to just get this last one together?” Valerie says.

“If we can even find the thing,” Danny says. “But sure.”

They both turn and start a route towards the places they haven’t checked yet, scanning the ground and sky as they go. Unfortunately, snake or not, it’s still a ghost, and it can still fly.

After a bit of time and no snake appearing, though, Danny turns to face Valerie.

“Hey,” he says, “I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”

Valerie turns to face him. “Yeah?”

Danny can’t read her face under the mask, which he’s pretty sure he’s not going to enjoy during this conversation.

He takes a deep breath and presses forward anyway.

“So, Sam and Tucker and I are having a movie night this Saturday,” he says. “Sam rented this supervillain crossover movie we were looking forward to but never got to see.”

“Okay?” Valerie says, confusion evident in her voice.

“Would you want to come?” Danny asks.

“Uh,” Valerie says, instantly sounding uncomfortable. “I don’t know. I mean, I don’t know if I’ll have all the necessary context.”

“Valerie,” Danny says. “I really think you guys should talk.”

Valerie sighs and pulls her hood off, turning to face him. Her face shows more uncertainty than discomfort, like he thought. “We probably should,” she admits. “I just… don’t know how to start. And they kind of remind me of… things I don’t like to think about. But…”

She trails off, but she doesn’t seem like she’s done, so Danny doesn’t say anything while she thinks.

“But we do have too much in common to just never talk,” Valerie says finally. She looks over at him, and Danny’s glad that he doesn’t see a ton of guilt in her face, like he did after he first told her everything.

“Does it have to be before Saturday?” Valerie asks, turning to face him.

“No, not if you don’t want it to,” Danny says. “I can do the movie night thing with just them. I just don’t want to keep my girlfriend and my best friends separate forever unless I have to.”

“I don’t think you’ll have to,” Valerie says.

Danny smiles a little at her, and Valerie smiles back.

“Okay. I’ll at least try and talk to them before Saturday,” Valerie says. “And I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Thanks Val,” Danny says. “Oh, and by the way?”

“Yeah?”

Danny points his thermos at the snake ghost that appeared in the corner of his eye a second ago and fires it up, sucking the ghost inside.

“Second place!” he calls, grinning back at Valerie.

“Wha— hey! You cheated, asshole!”

Danny gives his best imitation of an evil cackle and starts flying back towards his house, with Valerie following quickly behind on her board.

…

Valerie, once she considers the idea enough, doesn’t want to wait too long to talk to Sam and Tucker. For one thing, she wants answers herself. She’s also pretty sure she can use Saturday as something to kick her butt into gear. If she has a deadline she has to give, it’s a good way to force herself to find them and talk to them. Besides, her space thing only applies to Danny. She doesn’t owe anything to other people who have hurt him.

So, she settles on Thursday afternoon, as a way to have a little bit of time before Saturday, and finds Sam and Tucker in the cafeteria at lunchtime, which is where Danny said they’d probably be. She’ll miss her normal lunch time in the library with Danny and Jazz, but she really does need to talk to Tucker and Sam.

So Valerie finds Sam and Tucker sitting at the table, both looking a little bit too casual and like they’re having an okay time. So she walks right up and sits down next to Sam, startling them both into looking at her.

“Danny invited me to your Saturday movie night thing,” she says.

Tucker blinks at her. “Oh,” he says. “Okay. Do you guys have room for one more?” He angles the last question at Sam, who nods.

“We can get some extra popcorn too, if you want it,” she says to Valerie.

“Sure,” Valerie says. “But that’s actually not why I’m here.”

“I figured,” Tucker says. “Are we talking, then?”

“We have to do it sooner or later,” Valerie says. “I know a classroom that’s always empty at this time.”

So they relocate to the classroom Valerie used to have lunch with Danny in. Valerie leans back against a desk, and Tucker does the same to the one across from her. Sam sits on top of one and starts fidgeting with a wrist ray she’s wearing, that looks ghost-weapon in nature.

Valerie was worried that once she got here she wouldn’t know where to start, but the first thing that comes to mind doesn’t take much effort to come up with.

“So I hear Vlad screwed you over too,” she says.

Tucker smiles a little bit. “Yeah,” he says. “I guess that’s one way to put it.”

Valerie looks at him for a little longer, then looks over at Sam too, who hasn’t looked up at her yet. She gives them both a couple seconds to say something else, and then decides she needs too many answers to wait longer.

“Did he send you guys the suits anonymously too?” she asks.

Tucker shakes his head. “No,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “He, uh, pretended to save us from the vampire ghost that was also him, and then pinned the blame on Danny, and said Danny was trying to kill us. And then said he’d teach us how to hunt him first.”

Valerie thinks about that for a second, then nods. “Yeah, that sounds like something he’d do,” she says. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry you got tangled up in everything.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you who we were or what we thought was going on,” Tucker says.

“No,” Valerie says instantly. “No, I’m glad you didn’t. I… I would have believed you. In the beginning.”

“Not at the end though,” Sam says, finally looking up at her. “Not by the time I tried to tell you.”

Valerie doesn’t say anything, because she honestly doesn’t know. She figured after the fact that that’s probably what Sam was trying to tell her when she asked to talk, but she doesn’t know how she would have reacted then. Yeah, she was starting to question things, but she didn’t have the full realization of how much she had to learn until she heard the truth from Danny himself. She doesn’t know what she would have thought if she heard it from Sam and Tucker first. She doesn’t really want to think about it.

So instead, after a second, she says instead, “You know, you’re not completely at fault. Even if you are at fault for a lot of it.”

Sam looks down at the desk again like she doesn’t believe her, so Valerie continues.

“Seriously. Some of it is on the asshole who knew he could manipulate you and so decided to do that.”

Tucker nods slightly like he knows, but Sam still doesn’t look back up.

“You’re not the only one who did stuff you regret, you know,” Valerie says quietly, leaning back against the desk behind her. “I hurt Danny a lot too.”

“You haven’t known him since you were 8,” Sam snaps suddenly. “It’s different.”

“Yeah,” Valerie agrees. “It is. I’m just saying. If you ever want to talk. We don’t have to do this waiting game every time. You know you’re not totally alone in this, right?”

“I know,” Tucker says. He looks over at Sam, and after a long, long pause, Sam nods shortly.

“Good,” Valerie says. “I’ll see you on Saturday, then.”

“See you,” Sam mutters, and Tucker gives her a small smile. Valerie gives him a nod and smile back and heads out, giving the two of them some space they look like they need.

She still isn’t positive how she feels about them, but they have exactly the stuff in common that she thought they’d have in common, and it might help all of them just to have people around they can vent about Vlad to. That might be worth it all on its own. Either way, she’s willing to stick around to find out. And trying to just have fun at this movie thing Saturday doesn’t sound like the worst place to start.

…

“Thanks for the ride, Jazz,” Danny says as she pulls to a stop in front of Sam’s house.

“No problem,” Jazz says. “It’s on my way. Plus Mom and Dad would get suspicious if you said you weren’t going to need a ride.”

“On your way where?” Valerie asks from the backseat. “I didn’t realize you were going somewhere too.”

“She’s got a ghost psychology club meeting tonight,” Danny says, glancing back. “It’s getting pretty popular. I think she’s getting a big head.”

“Oh please,” Jazz says, shoving him towards the door. “Not like mine could get bigger than yours. Go hang out with those friends of yours who’ve tried to kill you.”

“You said you’d stop calling them that,” Danny says, but he opens the side door and climbs out, Valerie doing the same a second later.

“I’ll be back to get you in a couple hours,” Jazz says.

“Thanks,” Danny calls, and he gives her a wave as he shuts the door. Jazz waves back as she drives away.

“Okay so basically,” Valerie continues as they walk towards the front door. “These are three supervillains who are fighting each other?”

“Yep,” Danny says. He’s been filling her in on the context behind what they’re watching since Valerie told him she was definitely going to come. He doesn’t know as much as Sam definitely does, but he knows enough so Valerie won’t be totally lost.

“It’s probably just going to be a lot of cheesy action scenes,” he says. “You won’t strictly need the context to enjoy it. Oh, and uh, one last thing entirely unrelated to movies?”

“Yeah?”

“Sam’s parents won’t like you, don’t even try. It’s not you, they don’t like anyone.”

Valerie raises her eyebrows, but just says, “Noted.”

With that, Danny knocks on the door. Thankfully, it’s not a either of the Manson parents, but Sam that pulls the door open.

“Hey,” she says, with a smile that looks mostly genuine (and a little scared, but they both decided not to acknowledge that part).

“You guys are late,” Sam says with a smile. She’s clearly aiming for a casual joke, so Danny decides to help her out.

“I blame Jazz, she drives slow,” he says, smiling back as he walks inside. He waits to make sure Valerie makes it in before reaching out and pulling the door shut after them.

“Smart, blaming it on the person who isn’t here and can’t defend themselves,” Valerie says.

“That’s just how I roll,” Danny says, grinning at her. He turns back to Sam a second later. “Do you need any more help with the popcorn?”

Sam shakes her head. “It’s done. Just gotta carry it downstairs.”

“We’ll help you out,” Danny says, including Valerie by virtue of her not knowing where Sam’s basement is. So instead, they all walk towards Sam’s kitchen, where, surprisingly, there’s no sign of her parents, just four tubs of popcorn on the stove.

Sam seems to see Danny’s question in his face, because she says, “They’re taking Grandma out to eat. It’s just us.”

“They’re giving you the house to yourself?” Danny asks in bafflement.

Sam shrugs. “I think they’re trying to go a little easier on me,” she says.

“I didn’t realize they’d go that easy on you,” Danny says.

“Does this mean I don’t get to meet the parents who hate everyone?” Valerie asks, picking up one of the tubs of popcorn.

Sam smirks a little at her. “Sorry,” she says. “You don’t get two more people to hate you tonight.”

Valerie shakes her head in disappointment. “Damn.”

“Come on,” Sam says, picking up two of the popcorn tubs and letting Danny grab the last one. “Tucker’s waiting downstairs.”

Tucker is finishing setting up Sam’s massive sound system when they get down there, and he brightens when he glances over and sees them holding popcorn.

“Okay Sam your turn,” he says, walking over and taking one of the popcorn tubs right out of her hands.

Sam gives him a deadpan look, but lets him go sit on the couch, taking up half the space, and goes to finish setting up the movie.

Danny sets one of the tubs of popcorn down on the other end of the couch, then turns to Sam.

“Hey, which one’s yours?” he calls.

“Tucker’s got it,” Sam says, without looking away from the screen.

Tucker, who’s about to shove popcorn in his mouth, immediately drops it with a noise of disgust, and Sam and Danny both laugh.

“You could have warned me!” Tucker exclaims, setting the popcorn down on the ground.

“Sam uses vegan butter,” Danny explains to Valerie.

“It doesn’t taste different in the slightest,” Sam says, finishing with the TV and walking back to the couch. She sets the non-vegan tub down and picks up her own, then glances at Tucker. “Move your feet.”

Tucker does, and then Sam plops down next to him and puts her feet in his lap.

Valerie settles down at the other end of the couch, and Danny picks up his popcorn and sits in the spot next to her, resulting in Valerie immediately sliding up to his side and leaning her head on his shoulder. Danny wraps an arm around her shoulders and leans into her too.

“Alright,” Sam says. She turns the TV on, where the movie is already set up. “Who’s ready for this?” she raises an eyebrow at Tucker. “You’re not gonna run out of the room like a chicken, right?”

Tucker gives her a look, but then shrugs. “I’ve seen scarier things.”

“That’s an opinion,” Sam says, hitting “play” on the movie.

“Oh, that’s right, you weren’t there when I found Vlad’s poems about Mrs Fenton.”

“Wait, really?” Valerie asks, wrinkling her nose.

“Ugh, yeah I believe it,” Danny says. “He’s always been really creepy about her.”

“Yeah, I spared all of you,” Tucker says. “You owe me.”

“I’ll owe you more if you’re quiet and let the movie play,” Sam says.

Tucker sticks his tongue out, but turns to watch the movie. Danny smiles fondly at them for a moment and then casts an equally fond glance over at Valerie.

Valerie sees him looking and faces him. “What?” she whispers curiously.

“Nothing,” Danny whispers back, leaning further into her side and looking towards the movie. Valerie does the same a second later.

And though it’s not long before she turns to him and starts asking about the context of what’s happening, Danny doesn’t mind too much, because he’s not paying much attention to the movie before that either.

Instead, he’s deciding that even if things are far from normal yet, he likes the way they’re heading. And if telling people he’s Phantom keeps working out like this at the end of whatever else comes his way, he’ll probably be alright after all.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #valerie gray #jazz fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #no one knows au #my fic

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years ago

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original idea, m | kth

pairing(s): taehyung x reader

summary: Your boyfriend, Kim Taehyung, is observant. He noticed you started your period today and picked up your favorite can of sweet Thai tea on his way back from visiting his best friend Park Jimin. How nice of him until he asks you mid-gulp if he can go in raw.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; unprotected period sex, do not do this unless you absolutely trust the other person; established relationship; low-key crack; lots of fluff; shower smut (fem reader is on her period, handjob, unprotected, wall sex, creampie, doggy); non-idol!BTS, ft Jimin putting ideas in Taehyung's head, who would have guessed

“You started your period today.”

You cracked open the can of Thai tea you boyfriend handed you. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

“I saw the pad wrapper in the trash.”

“Oh.”

You took a large sip, thinking the conversation was over.

“Does that mean I can go in raw?”

You nearly spit out the entire contents of your mouth. Instead, you choked and swallowed hard, coughing and sputtering. “What?”

Kim Taehyung expression didn’t change. “Does that mean I can go in–?”

You held up your hand, coughing wildly, hacking the words out. “I heard what you said, I just can’t believe you said it, who the fuck?”

Taehyung seemed to understand and nodded, dark brown hair falling over his forehead.

“Oh, right. I was talking to Jimin and he mentioned–”

Oh, of course, how could you not guess, Taehyung’s best friend Park Jimin was putting ideas in Taehyungie’s little noggin and now murdering you as you struggled to breathe.

“–that it could be possible, because you’re right, it’s too early to have kids and having a monetary plan to prepare is a better idea–”

You were glad that Taehyung was interested in finances when it came to having children but he sure picked a weird ass time to agree with your sensibilities.

“–but I love having sex with you, so I was telling Jimin I haven’t been in raw yet and I completely understand that you prefer condoms over hormones since that might affect your mental state and I don’t like the idea of only you doing something like that to yourself anyway, it doesn’t seem fair–”

You were still processing the fact that Taehyung had told Jimin he hadn’t been in raw. What the fuck?! At least he loved having sex with you. You were staring at Taehyung slack-jawed, but he was scrunching up his face, trying to remember the rest of the conversation.

“–and Jimin mentioned, ‘hey, at least you can do it when she’s on her period, it’ll add more lubrication and it might even be better for her,’ so I was wondering if we could try it, if you’re interested.”

Silence.

You still hadn’t picked your jaw off the floor.

Taehyung opened his eyes and smiled at you. “Hm? What do you think?”

Okay, you very much enjoyed Taehyung’s eager, boxy smile, so that unfroze you, but you still blurted out your next question in sheer shock.

“Why did you tell Jimin you’ve never been in raw?!”

He blinked, tilting his head. “It just came up.”

You looked around, expecting Jimin to pop out and tell you you’ve been pranked. He did not.

“…. H-How…? Actually, don’t tell me, I’m going choose ignorance…” you mumbled, now taking another long sip of your Thai tea, but more like a swig and wishing it was forty-percent alcohol.

“But what do you think though?” Taehyung persisted, leaning down with his tilted head to try and catch your eye. “Do you wanna try? It might be nice!”

You looked down.

Someone was thinking about it for sure.

You looked back up.

Taehyung smiled at you innocently with a massive tent in his pants.

You stared into those big brown eyes and sighed.

“Ah… probably not. It’s going to be so messy and dirty and cleaning up is going to be such a bitch… I’m sorry, Tae, but I don’t think…”

“So…”

You stood under the showerhead, your hair wet and sticking to your forehead.

“So.”

Hey, in your defense, you were also curious.

Taehyung chewed on his lip, watching you inquiringly. “Hey, we don’t have to. I was being kinda pushy… but…”

You scratched your head, moving your wet hair out of your eyes. “Ah, it’s okay, I understand, I just… it feels wrong, you know? Aren’t you grossed out?”

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Mmm, at first? But the more I think about it, the more I think, well, isn’t it natural? And you have to deal with it every month for many, many years, right? Plus, when we have children, they’re going to come out of you slightly, erm…” He made a little bit of a face but shook his head, spraying water everywhere from his dark wet hair. “Anyway, it’s not too bad. We’re in the shower. You like it when we do stuff in the shower,” Taehyung added brightly.

You contained your laughter, giving him a hopeless smile. “Why are you acting so weird?”

Now Taehyung turned red, his deep tan skin flushing, eyes shifting from side to side. “Um…”

You tilted your head.

He shot you a quick glance and mumbled under his breath.

“Idon’tknowhowlongI’mgonnalastIalreadydon’tlastthatlong.”

“What?”

He chewed on his lip.

“Nothing.”

“Oh.”

You reached up and pushed your hair back, swimsuit-supermodel style, and now Taehyung was doing more than glancing, he was observing very closely and very intently under wet strands of dark brown hair, curling around his strong features and moody brown eyes, his lips parting slightly, probably unnoticed on his part.

Looking like a fish wasn’t exactly an image Taehyung himself considered sexy.

Secretly, you enjoyed it because it meant he wasn’t conscious of what he looked like and was too distracted by your actions and your body to do so.

You smiled. “Why were you talking to Jimin about something like that anyway?”

Taehyung stiffened as you neared, biting his lip. “Ah, well…” He frowned slightly. “You’re so good at certain… things… It’s kind of frustrating for me… sometimes. I want to be better.”

Now you hesitated. “What are you talking about? Haven’t I taught you a lot of things? And you learn quickly and are amazing once you get the hang of it.”

His lips twisted into a small pout.

“For once, I’d like to teach you something.” He let out a small puff. “Or at least suggest something you’ve never heard of before.”

You blinked at him.

“Er… going in raw isn’t exactly a new concept… rather… that’s the original idea of dick and pussy in the first place…”

Taehyung scrunched up his face. “I know that, argh… I just mean… ah…” He trailed off, baritone voice now unsure and unsteady.

You saw he was rapidly losing confidence and you placed a hand on his chin, lightly lifting it with your knuckle. “Hey, no, I didn’t mean it like that. I want to try it. I just thought you wouldn’t like it, because… I mean… Period blood isn’t sexy per se… And I’m certainly not sexy during that time of the month…” You frowned uneasily, lowering your hand, but now Taehyung raised your chin, smiling at you.

“Don’t be silly. You’re always sexy.”

He leaned in, smile morphing into a smirk.

“Also, your boobs get bigger during that time of month, so I always appreciate that.”

Your eyes widened. “You noticed?”

Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “Of course, I noticed. I keep close tabs on your boobs.”

“Close tabs? Do you record the size in a notebook or something?”

He chuckled, tapping his temple with his free hand, the other sliding down your chin, tracing the contours of your neck and collarbones. “Mental notes. I remember all the important stuff. Your boobs are on the top of the list.”

Your cut in with your inquiring quips. “My ass? My mouth? My hands? My pussy?”

Taehyung frowned slightly and placed his large hand on your breast, kneading it as if he needed comfort. “Okay, near the top, but don’t make me order them, it’s too difficult.”

You grinned. “That makes me feel better.”

He breathed out in relief. “Whew, that’s good–mphf!”

You seized the moment and pushed him into the wall, pressing your wet body into his, your tongue snaking out and lightly flicking against his lips, taking advantage of his surprise and the beauty of his widened eyes to kiss him firmly, falling into his warmth. It took him a second to compose himself, tipping his head down to take charge of the kiss, squeezing your breast and running his thumb over your hard nipple, but you placed your palms flat on the shower wall and resisted him, dancing your tongue between his lips and not letting him catch it, smirking at the growl he made in frustration.

“We were having a moment,” he muttered.

“Mmm, I know, but I want my moment with him.”

Your fingers ghosted his thigh and he sucked in a breath as your hand closed around his cock, not quite hard yet but getting there, especially after your hand came into contact with it. You feathered kisses on his lips as you stroked his length, nice and slow, his other hand coming up to cup both breasts, panting softly, hot breath on your lips.

“You’re too quick…”

“Can’t waste too much water,” you chuckled. “And…”

You kissed up his jaw, adjusting your body to get a better angle, licking his skin lightly and feeling the vibration and depth of his moan under your tongue and lips, whispering gently into his ear.

“It’s kind of hard to focus when you’re so handsome, Tae.”

He let you have the moment, tipping his head down so your teeth could catch his ear, nipping at it lightly, contrasting with the pace of your hand, firm and intense, shivering at the thickness and the weight in your palm, savoring the taste of his skin, moaning into his ear, long and sensual, everything he liked and more, his head turning, black-brown eyes looking down at you under lashes covered in small droplets, adding to his already ethereal appearance.

“Let me…”

He leaned in, not finishing his sentence, kissing you long and deep and sweet, changing your positions, but you didn’t let go, toying with his tongue. He made a small tch sound of annoyance, shifting his hips, picking up one of your legs.

“Ah, w-wait…”

“Why?” he chuckled. “You don’t wanna wait. I can tell.”

You tried to hide the smirk, but it came out.

Smugness just refused to be hidden.

Taehyung grinned against your lips. “Thought so.”

Your hand was already guiding him. “This isn’t going to be the optimal position for you to cum.”

“Good.”

You raised an eyebrow and he thrust up into your pussy.

You sucked in a breath, relaxing yet still stretched out. It did hurt slightly. Taehyung was sizable after all, in length and girth, but you had practice and muscle memory, and maybe (definitely) a pain kink.

What? It was fun getting stuffed with dick.

Especially when it was Taehyung’s dick.

You? You were fine.

Taehyung?

“Oh, fuck…!”

Er, maybe not?

He had such a cocky expression beforehand but the second he entered you, it instantly changed, sudden tension in his strong features, gasping as he slid in, surprisingly much easier than you expected, perhaps due to the consistency of the slippery blood, almost stopping halfway, but you didn’t let him, firmly grabbing his hips and yanking him towards you, his eyes rolling back, whining your name loudly, the volume and depth reverberating in the bathroom.

“You’re so t-tight… fuck… soft… oh, shit…”

You let him run through every expletive he knew, holding him firmly by his juicy ass, enjoying it too much, but thankfully Taehyung didn’t notice, eyes closed, head thrown back, dark wet hair curling around his cheekbones. He reached up and pushed it away from his face, exhaling hard, slowly opening his eyes, hazy and unfocused.

“Fuck… it feels so fucking good, you have no idea…” he shuddered, twitching inside you and moaning once more, body shaking so he had to plant his hands on the walls of the shower, volume increasing as you pulsed your muscles around his length. There was slight pain from cramps, but not from his cock, and you could ignore the dull ache and focus on the pleasure, slowly moving your hips and biting your lip, feeling the added slickness of your juices mixing with the blood.

You often cursed your period’s arrival, but maybe it was time to reconsider.

Always good to find the silver lining in things.

“Taehyung…”

You rolled your hips and he gasped, thrusting back lightly.

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he panted, swallowing hard. “Shit, it feels so fucking good, I can’t t-think…”

“I’ll tell you if it hurts,” you managed to say, pressing your hands into his ass and angling yourself to take him deeper, shoulder blades and head touching the shower wall, sighing in satisfaction.

“Alright, I’m gonna…”

He clenched his jaw, faster, harder, one hand coming down to grab a handful of your ass, you wrapping a leg around his and meeting him in the middle, increasing the depth of each thrust, both of you gasping at the tightness and the wetness, the messy slap and squelch echoing in the bathroom, water raining down on his broad back and spraying onto your chest, clenching around him so he could feel more, his eyelids fluttering, biting his lower lip, tendons on his neck popping out, and you realized he was trying not to cum, trying to hold back, so you gave his stiff length a particularly firm squeeze and Taehyung groaned, barely able to shoot you an incredulous look.

You grinned.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck!”

You felt it, his cock twitching and spilling into you, eyes widening at the sensation, not quite as strong as porn seemed to make it, but noticeable for sure, pushing out your juices in a rough sputter, loud and obscene, flinching as Taehyung’s hand quickly moved down, rubbing your clit, making you squirm and twist of his cock, almost falling off but he kept his other hand on your ass, digging his nails into the softness, holding you in place.

“Come on, come on, come on–”

It didn’t take much, you were already turned on by the fucking and then the sensation of being filled up, and you cried out, trying not to move your hips, the high peaking.

“Tae, fuck!”

Hot shivers and burning electricity tearing through your veins, jerking your hips forward and tightening around his cock, harsh throbs racking your body you came, pussy squeezing so hard that you felt his cock stiffen again, swelling and growing inside you as your orgasm roughly roused him back to life, both of you moaning at the sensation, feeling his cum and yours drip down your thigh, hearing it plop thickly onto the bathtub below and wash away, stunning both you and him at the lewd noise.

“Whoa…”

You panted hard, letting out a tense puff as he slid out of you.

“That felt… so fucking good…”

You thought for a moment, catching your breath. The pain your felt was only from cramps, although it seemed to be less now. Was that the ibuprofen? Or the euphoria of orgasm? You paused on consider the differences, chewing on your lip thoughtfully.

“I think for me it’s about the same? You feel very similar with and without a condom.”

Taehyung shook his head. “Not for me, you feel way better, I don’t know how I can go back, the condom is seriously a nerf…” he mumbled.

You shifted your eyes. “You didn’t last… the longest.”

His ears turned red.

“W… Well…”

“My pussy is pretty overpowered, maybe she needs the nerf.”

He sighed, frowning. “True… I still stand by the fact that it physically feels better, but more time to enjoy does even it out…”

You tapped your fist in your other palm. “Oh! Let’s do it from behind.”

He blinked. “Eh?”

But you were already turning around, Taehyung stumbling back, pushing the showerhead out of the way and pointing it towards the wall so he didn’t drown, audibly gasping as you bent over and presented your ass, hands spreading open your pussy with one fluid motion. You turned your head back and grinned.

“Yes?”

“Oh, fuck, yes.”

You felt him position the head against your opening and he pushed in, slow, steady, both you of moaning at the feeling, centimeter by centimeter, this position tighter, more heavenly, giving you added control over your muscles so you could pulsate around him. He inhaled sharply, gripping your hips and forcefully pushing in the rest of the way, bottoming out, balls smacking your clit.

“Stop t-that, fuck…”

You let go of your ass and placed one hand on the edge of the bathtub and the other on the wall.

Then you rocked your hips back.

“Ah, yes, Tae…”

“Are you trying to kill me? Oh, shit!”

You continued and Taehyung had no choice, fiercely grabbing your hips to try and get you to stop, but you were undeterred, so he had to ram his cock into you, exactly what you wanted, the sudden sensation of the head hitting you deeply rendering your speechless, and he had no time to gloat, too driven by lust and pleasure to taunt you even if he wanted to.

“A-ah, it’s good like this too, oh, fuuuck, yes, you always feel so fucking tight…”

He had a good rhythm and pace like this, deep, controlled, fast, making sure to give you the powerful thrusts you liked, loud, audible smacks of hips to ass, rough and wet, and you knew you had his cum inside you now along with yours and the added slickness of your period, and, sure, maybe someone found it gross, but in this second (and lucky all subsequent seconds involving this very behavior that would certainly continue at least once a month) you nor Taehyung gave a single fucking shit, pleasure flaring up your core, the dull ache of cramps forgotten, completely focused on the feeling of his cock entering you over and over, your hand on the wall curling into a fist, hitched breaths and flinching shivers taking over, clenching around him, oh fuck, his rock-hard, thick length plunging into your tight, wet hole, too much, so good, your thighs tensing from the overwhelming proximity of release.

“Taehyung, oh, fuck, you’re so good at f-fucking me…”

You could tell he wasn’t talking on purpose, probably clenching his jaw to last as long as possible, but he wasn’t going to last much longer because you smacked your palm into the tile wall, gasping his name loudly, shot into free-fall.

“Gonna cum, fuck!”

That was all the warning he got as your walls spasmed, brutally massaging his cock and he hissed your name, turning into a half-moan, half-whine as he yanked your hips down and slammed into your pussy, fully sheathing himself all the way up to his balls, his cock jolting and spilling his orgasm into you, his hands on your ass shaking so bad they seemed to be vibrating, gripping tighter and tighter, rolling his hips inside you and moaning, prolonging the euphoric feeling.

“S-So good… ah, yeeeeeees…”

It took him a while to still, breathing loud and hard, holding you in the bent over position, the additional time getting slightly awkward, but you waited it out, his grip finally loosening, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you up, your pussy too wet and his cock giving up, sliding out, a mess of juices splattering out of you.

Good thing you were in the shower. Easy to clean up.

“It’s… too good…” Taehyung huffed, broad shoulder leaning against the wall to hold himself up, still clinging onto you. “Your pussy does need a nerf, but, fuck, I’m still gonna think about it all the time…”

“Good thing for you that my period lasts at least five days.”

Taehyung looked up to the sky and whispered his gratitude.

“I know you kind of hate it, but I’m still going to thank them.”

“Maybe I have a reason to hate it a little less now. It’s still inconvenient.”

“Yeah, but going in raw…”

Mmm, yeah, that still sounded weird. Oh well.

“You’re not going to tell Jimin, right?”

“You let him go in raw?!”

“Taehyung!”

masterpost

#taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #bts smut #taehyung x you #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung smut #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung x you

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tssidesfics · 3 years ago

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TSSides Anti-Fairytale AU

I’m not coming for fairytales. They have their place, but as an aromantic person...I do not feel seen. And then I decided to re-watch Enchanted (pirated, of course, because fuck Disney). And then this idea happened.

Patton was a child-king who married his best friend when forced to, and then she died in childbirth. He’s given Roman everything he could, but he’s lived his life dictated by the advisors who’ve used him as a puppet king his whole rule. He’s miserable because he doesn’t like how the system functions but he thinks he’s chained to tradition.

Roman copes with his complicated relationship with his father by questing and almost dying, like, every other week. Anxious attachment for days. Boy keeps trying very hard to find a princess and can’t seem to figure out why nothing will stick. To which Patton goes “oh. He got it from me. Oops.”

All I know is Remus is aromantic and aplatonic and exactly as chaotic as he should be.

Roman’s birthday. Ball. The classic. He greets all the noble families and he’s seen those losers a bunch before, but this time, he meets a new “girl” with a family he usually hates who intrigues him. He is not a girl and I will not be misgendering him because ew, but, gist: Virgil, transphobic rich parents forcing him to conform to gender roles, absolutely miserable, in Peak Bitch (gender-neutral) form. Roman mistakenly believes he’s cured and talks Virgil up a lot. Convinces himself he’s fallen madly in love.

Problem is, he tells Patton, who’s shocked he found a “girl” but absolutely is on-board, and then goes to the family to ask for Virgil’s hand and there’s no Virgil.

Thus begins the Mulan ripoff but openly trans where Virgil poses as a boy servant at the castle because his parents can’t get into the castle willy-nilly and it’s the safest place to be. Absolutely loathes Roman’s very existence because that dumb bitch flirted with him while he was a girl and therefore VIrgil thinks he is The WorstTM. Then Roman catches him grouching about and decides to solve this by teaching him sword-play, mostly to give him the excuse to beat on a dummy with a sword-shaped stick.

Meanwhile Roman is just le sigh I did it again. I connected more with a boy than a girl. Why did she have to run away? Now I’m doomed to be weird.

Well then assassins break into the castle and Ever-Paranoid Virgil immediately susses them out as bad news and uses the remnants of the ball to absolutely wreck them when they try to kill Roman and his father while they’re taking a rare opportunity to chat and bond. Patton decides he is Adopting This Child, fuck you, advisors, he’s as thin as a stick, and Virgil now gets to eat with the royal family.

It’s the first time Patton has ever actually told his advisors to go fuck themselves. It’s the first step toward a positive turnaround and it happened because Patton’s dad instincts took over and nothing in the world is more valid than that, fight me.

Enter genderqueer icon morally neutral witch, Janus, all pronouns, who’s trying to topple the monarchy to enact lasting change and didn’t want to dirty her hands right away, but honestly people are so unreliable. So he gets onto Patton’s crew as a handmaiden and excuse you who gave the king permission to be actually endearing?

Roman feels slightly weird because Patton’s calling Virgil “kiddo” and he’s not calling him his son but he also treats him very similarly as he does to Roman and Remus, which isn’t great but is significantly better than it could be, but Roman’s got a crush.

Then Janus finds out Virgil’s trans and reveals this. Virgil thinks he’s about to get blackmailed into murdering the only people who have ever cared about him and then Janus just rolls their eyes like “excuse you I’m evil not psychopathic. I can give you a potion to make your body reflect your mind. You in?”

“Great, so my only cure to stop feeling like frozen trash reheated in a forest fire is to accept the highly dangerous bribe of a definitely evil witch! Thanks! I hate it!”

Yes Virgil memes even in a fantasy world where Tumblr doesn’t exist.

Also Virgil and Roman are bonding. A lot. They’re getting very close and Virgil even lets slip that he loves Roman and then tries to fling himself out a window. Roman gets touched, stops him, and tries to kiss him, but Virgil leans away. Roman expresses confusion.

“I...I love you, but I don’t want to kiss you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t either. But I’ve...never wanted to kiss anyone. For any reason.”

“But...you still love me?”

“I do. I’m sorry.”

Roman...doesn’t feel as rejected as he thinks he maybe should? Honestly, it’s not totally a relief, but it’s just kinda...neutral. It’s not even a disappointment.

Well, Janus is not evil and actually wants to run a kingdom (instating a committee mixed of educated rich fucks and working class receiving education) a whole lot more than Patton, who thinks she’s just...kinda awesome and very misunderstood. There’s a lot of hissing and grumbling that they’re not misunderstood, they’re evil, they don’t even have a tragic backstory, they just kill people to enact the change they want to see, just because they got ditched in a forest as a baby and was raised by a magic snake means nothing. The snake was a very loving and supportive parent.

Roman talks to Patton and Patton is like “fuck marriage rules. Fuck heteronormativity. Fuck my advisors. My kingdom is a haven for the gays. All the gays. Of every color. Come here and be merry and queer.”

Virgil’s just like “yo no reason but in this new world where it’s okay to love whatever gender is it maybe cool to be a boy when the world says you’re a girl?”

Janus draws a knife and glares at Patton and Patton’s just like “even if my partner wasn’t threatening to kill me I’d say it was fine why?”

“No reason.”

“Virgil.”

“What?”

“Is there something you want to share?”

“No.”

“Is there something you need to share?”

“Fuck you.”

“You’re being defensive again, Storm Grouch.”

Virgil sticks his tongue out. “Fine. People used to think I was a girl and I have a stupid body. Happy?”

And Patton learns from Janus the fine art of Validating The Fuck Out Of Gender.

The advisors stage a coop and lock Janus in an anti-magic cage, and then at the same time Virgil’s biological nightmares track him down and steal a spelled green apple from Janus’ shop they give Virgil. You know the drill. Deep sleep like death, yadda yadda.

Well, they immediately claim the body making a big dramatic deal about how they have to bury “her” and they’ll take “her” home to see her off and it’s so tragic, just as they were reunited, when the reality is they have the antidote back home, they’re just looking for control over his life again.

Except Roman goes off. “He is staying here where he--where he will be buried under the name Virgil dressed properly and if you came anywhere near his body I’ll kill you myself.”

Guess what constitutes a totally platonic, non-kiss related act of queerplatonic true love, bitch? Fighting your transphobic partner’s parents over their dead body.

Kingdom’s retaken, sweeping reform while Patton retires to be a stay at home dad to fix his relationship with his kids. Virgil gets formerly adopted. The stepparent is actually a morally neutral genderqueer witch who runs the kingdom fairly and justly, the central love story is trans and aromantic, and my queer ass is something resembling happy.

Logan is probably one of the advisors and the only one with sense who probably starts knocking off his coworkers after the coop because they’re all deeply, deeply stupid. Remus probably spends half the story making friends with a troll he brings in to save the day in the third act.

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kinkyjaems · 4 years ago

Text

7 Minutes with Nomin

Nomin Smut

Word count: 2.4K

Jaemin and Jeno x fem!reader

Includes: Smut, threesome

“You should wear this skirt” Your best friend Giselle hands you a short plaid skirt. You hold it in your hands until you decide you should wear it.

Mark and a couple of friends are having a party in their shared house and you and Giselle were invited. You were a bit nervous though. The thought of seeing Jaemin and Jeno made your heart bounce.

Lee Jeno, the sweet and most kind-hearted boy you know. He wouldnt hurt a fly. The way his eyes looked when he smiled, how got shy very easily, a little quiet and the cutest little beauty mark on his cheekbone made you smile without knowing.

Na Jaemin, the most confident person you’d ever met. He’s not afraid to say what’s on his mind. He knows he’s attractive. The way he pushes his hair back with his tongue poking his cheek. He can sometimes be a cute weirdo but just him looking at you is enough to make you swoon.

The only problem right now is that they both like you. Of course, Jaemin makes it more obvious by holding you, bringing his lips so close as if he’s about to kiss you but then quickly pulling back. And Jeno, sending you cute messages throughout the day like “I went out today to eat but I wish you were with me :(“ and “I walked past a flower shop and saw some roses that were as beautiful as you”. If one were to ask you out, you wouldn’t know what to do. You did wanna break the other heart and ruin your friendship.

“You okay?” Giselle looked at you a bit worried, seeing the way you were lost in thought. “Yeah, I’m fine” you replied with a small smile. “Okay well, let's go party!” She dragged you out of the house and into a taxi.

The whole taxi ride was torture. You couldn’t stop thinking about what could happen. You can never really expect what happens at a party. You hookup, you drink until you were knocked out, you get sick all over the house.. so many thoughts were making their way into your brain as you got closer to the house.

You ring the doorbell and way welcomed my Mark giving you a huge hug. “Hey guys, so glad you could make it. You can have a seat over here if you want, drinks are over there and the food right next to them..” As Mark was showing you the whereabouts, his words started to go through your ear and out the other side and you see Jaemin by the drinks table staring at you up and down while sipping on his red solo cup. Suddenly another man starts walking towards Jaemin looking down at his phone. He looks up at you and you see it's Jeno. He gives you one of his cute close eyed smiles and waves at you. You wave as a soft smile appears on your face at home cute he looks.

“All good?” You hear Mark say as he brings you back to reality. “All good” Giselle says with a thumbs up and you just nod. You and Giselle walk over to the couch and you sit down. “I'm gonna go bring us some drink, ill be right back” You wanted her to stay with you since you weren’t a big fan of parties and din tiles being alone, but you also wanted to go with her but quickly change your mind since you were nervous about being around Jaemin and Jeno.

You start to scroll through your phone not knowing what else to do until you see a pair of shoes in front of you thinking it's Giselle. You look up and to your surprise it's Jaemin. “Hey,” he said as he looks at you and you greet him back. He goes to sit next to you as you hear another familiar voice. “Do you want a drink?” Jeno says with his eyebrows raised. “Giselles already getting me one, thank you” you smile.

Giselle comes back with your drink and you all got into a conversation with some flirting going around from overconfident Jaemin and shy Jeno.

“Ayo, listen up” Mark announces from the middle of the room. “Let's play some games, starting with 7 minutes in heaven” he smirks. The whole room looked excited to join in the circle except for you. You didn't know many people at the party and didn't wanna have sex with someone you didn't know. “I think I'm gonna sit this one out,” You say to Giselle. “Come on” she pulls your arm “Let's have some fun”. You both sit down on the floor next to each other and Mark puts a beer bottle in the center. “Alright, I'm gonna spin the bottle and whichever two people it lands on will spend 7 minutes in heaven”.

He spins the bottle and your heartaches as you get more anxious. You thought that whoever is in front of you is most likely to be paired with you if you were picked. You saw both Jaemin and Jeno in front of you. Jaemin who’s looking at you in a seductive way and Jeno who’s staring at the bottle, eagerly waiting for it to stop.

The bottle gets slower until it stops. You look at it in disbelief as it's pointing right at you, already knowing who you could be paired up with. You slowly look up at the boys looking at each other and back at you. The whole room is filled with whispers. “Looks like we have a tie” you hear Mark say. The bottle is pointy right in between them.

“Who will it be?” He asks you. You try to speak but you're unable to get the words out. “Why can’t she just take them both” You look to your right and see Johnny. You’ve never wanted to hit a guy so hard on his pretty face. “DUDE! YOUR A GENIUS” Mark replies. You see Jaemin and Jeno stand up and start to lead you up the stairs as people start cheering and you get so embarrassed and red.

As they lead you to an unoccupied room, you can help but think about what was gonna happen next. Are you actually gonna have a threesome? Will one of them end up leaving? Will you be the one to leave? You finally arrive at the room. “Were here princess” Jaemin whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You take a seat on the front edge of the bed, not knowing what to do or say. “Are you nervous” He bend down in front of you, taking your hand in his and smirking up at you. Before you get to talk, you feel a warm breath against your ear. “Don’t be, angel, we’ll take good care of you” Jeno whispered, lightly nibbling on your ear lobe. So you’re really gonna do this, aren’t you?

The thought of them fucking you at the same time was hot but you didn’t want this stupid game to ruin your friendship.

Jaemin was staring at you in the eyes and slowly leans in, placing a soft kiss on your lips. He broke the kiss to look at you for consent to do more, and you lean in. Jeno goes at your next softly, placing wet kisses up and down until he snaked his hands down to your core and traces small circles around it. You moan into Jaemins kiss and you feel him smiling against you.

“Does that feels good?” He asks, and let out a breathy yes as you break from Jaemins kiss and rest your head on Jenos shoulder. Jaemin also starts placing wet kisses on your neck and lightly sucking on randoms patches of skin. They both stop and bring you farther up the bed so they have more room around you.

Jeno hovers on top of you until he crashes his lips onto yours aggressively, sticking his tongue into every corner of your mouth, not leaving one spot untouched. His hands find their way under your shirt touching you all over until he places them on your hips. He tugs on it asking you for permission to take it off you allow him, bringing it over your head and his along with it.

He breaks away to look at your body and dives back in giving you a kiss from your chest down until he reaches your skirt, pulling it up so your panties are exposed. He then quickly removes both articles of clothing. “Fuck, you already wet” He huffs.

“7 minutes might be a little too short to destroy you” You look at Jaemin who’s palming himself next to you. He saw you quickly look at his bulge and smirks before leaning closer to you. “You want us bad don’t you” He whispers into your ear. “You want us to fuck you so hard you won’t be walking for days”

Jaemin starts kissing and sucking hard at your neck while Jeno teases you by licking your core. Quiet moans leave your lips from all the small pleasure you were receiving from both men. You entangle your fingers in his hair wanting more.

Unexpectedly Jeno pushes deep indie of you to make your back arch in pleasure. His whole length rammed inside of you so perfectly as you looked at him seeing a small smirk crept on his face. He knows he’s big.

You start moaning uncontrollably from Jeno hitting the spot with every thrust. Jaemin who’s now stroking himself removes your bra with his free hand and attaches his pink lips to your nipples. Sucking them and tracing small circles with his tongue, using his free left hand to masses and play with the other one.

The room is filled with the sounds of skin slapping and lip-smacking on your breasts. Jeno starts to get impatient and tell Jeno to fuck you doggy style so he can fuck your mouth at the same time.

Having to switch positions messed up the pleasure you were getting from Jeno but he was quick with his ways and managed to get back on track. You watch Jaemin as he removes his pants and boxers, waving his dick in front of your face.

Your unable to grab it with your hands from Jenos thrusting, with your hands being your only support so you won’t collapse. You try to move your mouth forward but Jaemin stops you. He lips your chin up to look at him“Don’t get too greedy” he says, placing his tip on your tongue. “Can you deep throat?” He says softly. Even though Jaemin is a confident guy who knows he hot, he has his soft moments too. “Angel, let me know if it hurts or you want to stop okay?” You nod and he moves his cock into your mouth, starting off slow, going faster making sure you adjust.

Surprisingly Jaemin was a lot softer than Jeno who rammed into you without warning. Not that you didn’t like that or anything but it would be nice to know.

You manage to deep throat without gagging while trying to use one hand to massage his balls. You hear moth males moan in sync. “Jeno,” You say in a muffled voice from Jaemins length. He understands your close and takes this as an opportunity to go faster. “Say my name, Princess” Jeno says. You moan his name, again it was tough trying to talk while having someone's cock shoved down your throat.

You finally come as a wave of pleasure leaves your body. “Fuck” You hear Jeno say. His thrusts become sloppier as he finally comes in you, letting it drip down. He massages your clit with his finger, using both your juices as some type of lube.

Jaemin's thrust into your mouth becomes slower and slower until he comes, filling your mouth up with his warm insides. You try to swallow it all with some leakage at the side of your mouth. He flashes a wide smile at the sight of you. Jeno comes over to help your out by kissing you passionately and cleaning you up with his tongue.

They both sit ups straight and look at you with curiosity. “What?” You furrowed your eyebrows. “Who are you picking?” Jeno replies. Your eyes widen in shock. “WHAT?!” You shout ‘what do you mean who do I pick?”. You were so confused. Did they just fuck you and expect you to chose? Of course not, you could never do that.

“He means which one of us will you date?” Your jaw drops open. “Was this planned or something?” You're really hoping your not gonna get the answer you were thinking of. “It kind of went better than we thought” Jeno starts. “We asked Mark if he could announce the game sat in front of you to get picked with you. We also made sure the circle would be big so the bottle has a higher chance of landing in between two people which was us an-”

Before Jaemin could finish. You hop off the bed and grab your clothes making sure to clean yourself up. “No wait,” Jeno says as he pulls your arm lightly. “We just both like you and thought this was a good way to decide. “You think the best way was for to see who I liked better in bed?” They were both silent. You shook your head in disapproval. “I'm not picking between you too” You walk towards the door but before you could turn the knob, you hear Jaemin say something.

“So you’ll just have to have us both them” You look at him thinking about it at first. Honestly, you didn't mind having them both at the same time. “I guess ill just have to have you both then,” You say with a smile, leaving them both with their jaws hanging.

You walk down the party fixing your hair trying not to look like you just woke from a 1,000 year nap. You find Giselle who’s passed out on the couch and go to grab her. “Hey,” she says as she opens her eyes. “I'm so-“ She leans on you as she passes out. You drag her to the front door getting ready to leave. “You're leaving already” You look around to see Mark. “Yes, and I really don’t appreciate you helping out Jaemin and Jeno to get a chance to fuck me” his eyes widen. “Look it wasn’t my ide-“ You flick him on the forehead before heading out to a taxi and driving back to your place.

The whole car ride back home, you couldn’t help but think about how they could be if the time wasn’t so short. Maybe an all night experience for next time.

PLEASE TELL ME IF U WANT ME TO MAKE A PART 2. Im really tempted to make one but I want your thoughts so please let me know! :)

#nct #nct dream #nct smut #nct dream smut #nomin #lee jeno #na jaemin #jeno #jaemin #jaemin smut #jeno smut #lee jeno smut #na jaemin smut

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solarwonux · 4 years ago

Text

Crop Tops and Tattoos || Wonwoo

soccer player!Wonwoo x f!reader

w.c: 3.2k

warnings: smut, shower sex, wonwoo soft!dom, oral sex (female receiving), friends with benefits, friends to lovers, public sex (kinda) I think that’s all.

note: another repost I’m sorry lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, honestly I literally have like a bunch of works that literally take place in the same soccer!svt/college!svt universe but really have nothing to do with one another except for like 3 and they’re all spicy lol. Let me know if you’d want them and also enjoy this one and lmk your thoughts hehehe :)

masterlist

“W-What?”

“Come to my practice tonight.” You rubbed the sleep from your afternoon nap out of your eyes, listening to Wonwoo’s soft voice through the receiver. “I miss you, come to my practice tonight, we can hang out after.” Wonwoo all but begged, and you can almost picture the pout that was on his face.

“Woo, I can’t I have to finish my half of the group research project.”

“Perfect, I’ll help you. You’re my partner anyway. Please love, I just want to see you it’s been forever.”

“It’s been two days Woo.” You rolled your eyes sitting up on your couch, retreating your phone from your ear, checking the time, 7:30PM it read. So much for a thirty-minute nap, you sighed.

“Precisely why you should come to my practice…hold on a sec,” Wonwoo pulled the phone away from his ear and gave the lost student instructions to where the art history section of the library was located at. “Please, it will be worth it, I promise.” He whispered, cupping his mouth over the receiver, muffling his words a little making you laugh.

“I’ll think about it, get back to work.”

“Okay see you tonight.” He said a little too excited and hung up the phone, a wide smile appearing on your face, making your stomach perform a whole gymnastics routine in the process.

The relationship you and Wonwoo had was interesting, it had started off as mindlessly flirty with one another, graduated to ghost touches and during a hot summer’s day. Where the air conditioning in the library had leaked and instead of Joshua calling everyone to tell them to stay home, he had made sure everyone showed up. Or else. His exact words.

The touches and flirting had escalated to the point that Wonwoo had dragged you to the forgotten encyclopedia section of the library and pinned you against the dusty bookshelves.

Since then your relationship grew more to just sleeping with one another to let off some steam. He would hold your hand underneath the reception desk at the library, mindlessly drawing patterns and phrases onto your skin. He would walk you to class when he could, sometimes with a bubble tea in his hand, other times empty handed. If you were scheduled to close on days, he had an earlier shift, he would wait and walk you home holding you close while the two of you talked about your day. And as of recently, after sex he had started to spend the night, claiming he slept better with you by his side.

In your head Wonwoo was your boyfriend just without the label. It was also a conversation the two of you needed to have, but it was also one you feared because you didn’t want it to ruin it.

You ran through the gates of the soccer field and started up the steps of the aluminum bleachers, earning weird stares from the guys and girls that decided to attend SVT’s first soccer practice of the season. You sat down, out of breath, holding your bag close to your body as you tried your best to regulating your breathing. A reminder that maybe hitting the gym every once in a while, wasn’t such a bad idea, because clearly having mind blowing sex with Wonwoo wasn’t helping with building your stamina.

“Woo your girl’s here now you can finally start playing.”

“Get your head out of your ass Jun.” Wonwoo scoffed shoving Jun lightly, earning a laugh from the other boy. Wonwoo gazed over at you a knowing smile evident on his face and waved at you. You felt your cheeks heat up and your eyes grew wide as you took in his appearance.

Wonwoo had sworn to you that he would never wear his old jersey again, especially since Seungcheol and Jeonghan had deviously cut it up after their last game last season. Yet, here he was in all his glory. The shirt stopping just above his belly button, the sliver of his toned stomach peeking through and you felt the beat of your heart start to raise. You warily waved back, before placing your cold palm against your forehead trying to cool yourself down.

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, lifting his hand up and threaded it through his dark locks. His shirt riding up, exposing himself more and you felt the air leave your lungs. It was stupid, you have been seeing him in a lot less clothing for months and in every angle. But for some reason now as he stood boring his soft eyes into yours as Jihoon shouted commands to his teammates. The sweat dripping down the sides of his face, his glasses fogged up slightly due to the humidity and a knowing smirk adorning his face, teasing you. And you felt like you were about to burst.

“Hey, Woo, stop ogling at your girlfriend and get into position.”

“I like your shirt.”

“Hmm, yeah?” A devilish snicker fell from his lips as he pushed up against the cool tile wall. You nodded dragging your nails across the sliver of teasing skin, leaving red marks behind in their wake making Wonwoo shudder. “So sexy.” He groaned lowly pressing his lips onto yours forcefully, his hands snaking around your waist down to your ass giving it a squeeze making you gasp. He pulled away from your lips and trailed them down your neck. He swiped his tongue over your sweet spot earning him a whimper from you.

“You gonna let me fuck you in the locker room showers?”

“If you ask nicely.” You breathed out playing with the elastic waist band of his shorts. Wonwoo laughed against your neck and bit down before pulling away. “Can I fuck you in the locker room showers please?” He pouted playfully, grabbing your thigh and wrapping it around his waist.

“God Woo, yes.” You wrapped your arms around his waist pulling him closer to you feeling his growing cock against your aroused pussy. “As you wish darling.” He mumbled pecking your lips repeatedly before pulling away from your body, making you whine at the loss of his body heat.

Wonwoo chuckled sinking down to his knees, your eyes hooded with pleasure, feeling the wetness between your legs grow. He left teasing kisses down your clothed thighs, his thumbs hooking underneath the waist band of your leggings dragging them along with him. “Woo my shoes.”

“I was getting there, you’re so impatient sometimes.” He mumbled sitting back on his knees tapping your calf silently telling you to raise your leg. “It’s your fault…how am I supposed to be patient when you always look so good.” You obliged watching as he slowly took of your shoe and throwing it outside of the shower stall along with your sock. He repeated the process with your other leg before attaching his lips against your clothed thigh and left gentle open-mouthed kisses up your leg.

“I guess it’s time I teach you how to be patient.” He smirked pulling down your leggings along with your panties in one go. He threw them aside, placing a kiss against your hip bone, where the small stick and poke infinity sign tattoo he had made after a long night of immoral rendezvous. “Still can’t believe you let me talk you into giving you this.” He mumbled giving it another kiss and stood up.

“I wanted a tattoo but didn’t want to experience the pain.”

“It still hurt you, I had to stop, that’s why it’s all crooked and unfinished.”

“But it’s my favorite.” You whispered, his dark lust filled eyes boring into yours as he slowly started to take off his shorts and underwear, exposing himself to you. No matter how many times the two of you slept together, the sight of his body always had your heart beating out of time. He was perfect, an Adonis carved out of marble and to your surprise he was all yours.

“Don’t take off your shirt.” You whispered reaching and grabbing a fistful of the cloth and pulling him to you. “I want you to fuck me with it on.” You eyed him, a teasing finger running down his chest. “You’re so naughty today.” He laughed grabbing your hand and moved it up to his lips kissing each of your knuckles his sensual gaze lingering on yours. You felt your breathing pick up, the heat trailing down your thighs. “Please touch me.” You whimpered pulling your hand away and taking your shirt of throwing it behind him.

“Not yet I need to shower, I’m all sweaty from practice.” He winked, his hand finding the shower handle and turning it. A gasp left your lips as you felt the cold start to coat your heated bodies. “Now behave princess.” He kissed you hard, running his tongue over your bottom lip asking for entrance in which you granted. His hips flirting with yours and all you wanted to do was get down on your knees and beg him to use you in any and every single way possible. He pulled away detaching the shower head sending you a wink before putting it against your clit. The harsh water jets sending a sweet wave of pleasure up your spine.

“You’re going to cum like this and then I’ll fuck you.” He mumbled, before sinking down on to his knees again. He kept the shower head in place and alternated in kissing your thighs. Desperate whimpers falling out of your mouth. Wonwoo hooked one of your legs on top of his shoulder and bit down on your thigh, sucking making you yelp. “Your body reacts so well to me.” He kissed up your thigh sucking another love bite next to your tattoo before pulling away, shifting the shower head slightly. The sensation sending a new wave of pleasure up your body making you moan.

“W-Wonwoo, mmm, please.”

“Please what?” He teased the sound of a smirk evident in his voice and you’ve never wanted to hit someone so badly before. “I-I need you please.” You cried out, the tip of his index finger teasing the entrance of your pussy. “Yeah…you need me baby?” He chuckled moving your arousal around coating his finger with it before pulling away and bringing it up to his mouth, moaning sinfully as he licked it clean

“Y-Yes need your fingers, or mouth anything p-please W-Woo.” You raised your hips trying to grind yourself against the water, searching for a release in every way you could. “I’ll give you what you want but you can’t touch me.” He tsked giving you a pointed look. You whined nodding your head grabbing onto the smoothness of the shower wall. He ran his hot tongue against the lips of your pussy, the sensation mixing with the coldness of the water sent shivers up your spine.

“You always taste so sweet.” He mumbled against you flicking the tip of his tongue against your clit. Your mouth hanging open as your fingers itched to touch him and push him against you even further. “L-Let me touch you?” You breathed out your nails digging themselves into the skin of your stomach. He nodded against you repeatedly licking strides up your lips before attaching his mouth on your clit. By now the shower head was long forgotten as it fell from his hand, hitting the shower wall with a loud clank making you jump.

You threaded your fingers in his short hair tugging at the roots making him moan against you. He wrapped his arms around your ass pulling you closer as he lost himself eating you out like a starved man. “B-Baby I’m close.” You moaned arching your back against the wall as he lightly bit down on your clit and pulled away. He licked his lips savoring you and adjusted his round glasses earning a lighthearted laugh from you. “Don’t laugh or I won’t help you cum.” He grumbled pressing his index and middle fingers against your entrance and slowly sinking them into you immediately curling them up in search for your g-spot. A satisfied smile etching across his face as you moaned out the second he found it.

Wonwoo attached his lips onto your clit again, this time wasting no time and sucking on it roughly, his fingers moving inside you at a fast pace. The coil forming at the pit of your stomach, your hands tugging on his hair, your hips bucking against his mouth and fingers. He moaned feeling your clench around his fingers, giving him the motivation to pick of his pace, the pleasure getting too much for your body to handle and before you knew you came undone screaming out his name. He helped you ride out your orgasm, desperately licking up your release making your body twitch from the oversensitivity.

“You did so well baby.” He mumbled before pulling away, licking his lips moaning in approval as the remnants of your arousal hit his taste buds. He thrusted his fingers a few more times before pulling them out making you whine, missing the way they felt inside of you. He chuckled licking them clean before standing up.

“Think you can give me one more?” He asked giving your lips multiple pecks and then your cheeks. You laughed pushing his face away resting your tired body against the wall of the shower.

“Yes.”

“Can I ask you something?” You crossed your arms in front of you holding up the towel Wonwoo had wrapped around your body. Wonwoo hummed handing you his extra t-shirt as well as the sweatpants you had left at his place weeks ago. How he knew to bring them along with him was beyond you, but you decided to save that question for another day.

“Why do the guys call me your girl.” You emphasized standing up from the bench and started getting dressed. Wonwoo closed his locker resting his back against it drinking you in slowly, making you feel a little insecure. “Jeonghan saw you leave my apartment one day and texted the group chat to share the tea.” He rolled his eyes using quotations around the last word of his sentence before pushing himself away from the locker. “Now the guys think we’re dating.”

“But you never corrected them?” You tugged his shirt over your head gathering your semi dry clothes and folded them. “Do you want me to correct them?” He placed his hand on your cheek moving your head gently to meet his eyes.

“I-I mean yeah, we aren’t dating you made it very clear that you weren’t looking for a relationship when this started.”

“I wish I could eat my words.” He whispered running his thumb over your swollen lips. “I think I’m past just wanting to fuck you; I want more.”

You felt the air leave your lungs; your cheeks heated up and you desperately searched for a new point of focus because the intensity evident in his gaze was overwhelming. “We should go, I need to finish my half of the project.” You picked up your drying clothes and your bag and rounded the corner of the bench you had been sitting at.

“You don’t want to be more?” Wonwoo caught up with you grabbing your free hand to stop you from walking and held it close to his chest. “I do, I’m just scared you’ll end up regretting it if we ever do try to be more.” You confessed trailing your eyes down his body and stopping at your interlocked hands.

“I won’t, you make me feel so good an—”

“Exactly, I make you feel good. All you’ve ever known is how it feels like to be with me naked. You don’t know what it’s like to actually be with me.” You pulled your hand away. A frustrated sigh spiraling out of his lungs as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Your worst habit is jumping to conclusions.” He mumbled lowly tugging at the roots of his hair. It didn’t feel nearly as good as it felt when you would do it to him, but that was something he would ever confess out loud. “I want to be with you in every way possible, I know what I said before and if I would take back my words I would because that was before I found myself falling for you.” Wonwoo closed the gap between the two of you holding you tightly. His confession had your mind running nonstop, the weight of his words making their way into your heart and finding a home. You hugged him tightly, burying your face into his chest. “Is that a yes?” Wonwoo asked confusion laced in his voice as he hugged you back running his hands down your back soothingly. You hummed nodding your head taking a whiff of his lavender body wash and somehow it felt like home.

“You can’t just say things like that so casually.” You groaned raising your head from his chest placing a kiss on his chin. “Give me a warning next time.”

“Would you have preferred reading the essay I wrote about it instead.”

“Wonwoo stop fucking around you didn’t do that.” You scoffed pushing away from him and started down the hallway to entrance of the locker room. “Yes, I did it’s fifteen pages long, I even used citations.” He yelled following you a few steps behind, the teasing tone in his voice made you doubt his word. But he did once write a whole essay on how Soonyoung was the worst co-captain in the history of co-captains because he had beat him in Mario Kart.

“You have two options I can read it for you tonight after you’re done with your half of the project or I can read it for you on your wedding day.” You choked on your saliva making him laugh. He patted your back gently before pushing open the door to the locker room.

“What the fuck Woo, our weddi—”

“Finally, we’ve been waiting out here for hours. I’m starving.” Hoshi exclaimed throwing his hands up in the air before starting down hallway. “I told you guys to leave.” Wonwoo sighed rolling his eyes and extended his hand for you to take.

“Half of us did once they heard you guys fucking.” Vernon shrugged shoving his hands in his pockets. Your cheeks started to heat up, you prayed to every god out there to do you a solid and open the ground up and have it swallow you whole. “And you guys didn’t?”

“Nah, you’re paying for dinner remember, plus we made a bet while we waited.” Vernon took two long strides over and placed his hand on top of Wonwoo’s shoulder. “I never expected you to have a daddy kink and now I lost fifty bucks to Jeonghan and Dino each, that’s a hundred in total.” He shook his head and walked away running to catch up with Hoshi.

“I don’t have a dad—”

“You know bathrooms have echoes right?” Dino pushed himself way from the wall and started walking away. “We heard the two of you loud and clear, so you can’t deny it, Jeonghan even took a voice note just in case you wanted to deny it.”

“Baby you’re going to have to visit me in jail cause I’m about to commit homicide.” Wonwoo placed a chaste kiss against your head and let go of your hand and charged over to Dino. He turned around laughing before running down the hallway leaving you behind with a smirking Jeonghan.

“Honestly, I just hope you guys disinfected the stall the two of you used.”

#seventeen fanfiction #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x you #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo smut #wonwoo fanfic #svt fanfiction #svt smut #svt imagines #svt x reader

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gojology · 4 years ago

Text

Jealousy. (3/3)

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 | I WORKED SO HARD ON THIS AND I RLLY LOVED HOW THE ENDING WENT BUT IF U WANT ME TO WRITE A LITTLE EXTRA OF WHAT HAPPENS AFTERWARDS JUST SPAM MY INBOX K THX ENJOY!!!! 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Teen! Gojo x Gender Neutral Reader 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 2286 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | Cursing. ALL CHARACTERS HERE ARE AGED DOWN FROM PRESENT ANIME/MANGA INTO WHEN THEY WERE TEENAGERS. 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | Your plan with Geto finally unfolds, and Geto thinks with the information he has gathered, that it’s a perfect time for you to confess to Gojo. Shoko answers your suspicions about her and Gojo before Geto crashes the scene, telling you last second that he had set you up with Gojo for a confession, you had almost no time to prepare. Before you could even hold a proper scolding, Gojo arrives, it’s time to confess. “Okay, here’s the plan.” Geto slapped his hand onto the table, handing you a fizzy drink. You watched the bubbles rapidly float upwards. Inside, there’s various fruits, strawberries, kiwis, some lemons for added fanciness. “(Y/N), the drink is not what we’re focusing on.” he snaps his fingers, you glance up, he’s shaking his head and smiling. “Sorry, uh, I’m not good with serious conversations.” you twiddle with your thumbs, studying the table. Your fingers itch for your something to fidget with, the whole reason why you two met up was awkward anyways. You had conspired with Geto to make Gojo jealous. Having already tried being subtle, you had eyed him across the room, flirted with him, and he still hadn’t realized. You had bought him free stuff whenever you went to the store, and once again, he never really realized. Geto did, though. He always raised his eyebrows when you handed Gojo a bag of kikufuku from his favorite shop, or if you got him a stupid cheap trinket from the night markets. The point being, you were much more affection with Gojo then anyone else. Even when you tried to conceal this jealousy, the cracking point was when you had found out that Gojo had gone out with Geto the night before and had sex with a few random girls. You had chewed Geto and Gojo both out, while Gojo was yawning and tousling his hair, boredom evident in his face, Geto examined every single little thing about your body language. How your face seemed to drop a little more when you talked about Gojo, and how you seemed so self conscious when you talked about the girls that he had had fun with. He had approached you, with no time for small talk. His arms crossed, he blew a strand of hair away from his face, looking at you. He had oh so casually asked you if you had a thing for Satoru, and here you were now. Just short of having a heart attack from sheer panic. “Hey. Don’t be scared.” placing one of his hands on your shoulder, he smiles. “I know Gojo, did I ever tell you how we compared dick sizes once? Wild, I’ve also had a few foursomes-” You retch, and Geto snickers. “Moving on, that guy gets jealous EASILY. He’s also as dumb as a rock, probably can’t define the word love.” he looks down, the easygoing expression on his face wiped off, replaced with a rather saddened one, “but I guess he hasn’t experienced the feeling a lot.” He looks back up at you, brushing his bangs behind his ear. “This brings me to Operation: Make Gojo Jealous Because That’s The Only Way I Know How To Get Him To Realize If He Likes You or Not!” He leans over the table, looking left and right before leaning into your ear. “What do we say if Gojo doesn’t like you back?” Your stomach twists as the words, “Gojo doesn’t like you back.” echoed in your mind, you sigh. “That’s okay Gojo, and whatever your opinion is, I will respect.” “Perfect, if you have any objections, tell me now.” A deafening silence settles between you two, he chuckles again. “Also, Shoko’s smart as shit. She can probably catch on, or maybe she already knows that you have a crush on him. Maybe she’ll play into this, fair warning. Alright, ready? Listen close.” He stops leaning over the table, sitting back down normally. “We start spending a lot more time with each other, as in, we spend more than half of our day with one another.” you open your mouth to complain, as Geto would be sure to annoy you knowing that you had to spend half the fucking day with you, but he shushes you up with his finger. “I’m a good stalker, so I’ll be watching Gojo. If he doesn’t have a crush on you, he’ll be just fine. Albeit, just a bit lonelier, because his best bud is ditching him for you, maybe talk to Shoko or some shit. If he DOES in fact have a crush on you, he’ll watch our every move. He doesn’t hide his anger very well, so I’ll be able to tell.” “You’re a good WHAT?” “Shut up, and I have everything planned out. We’ll probably have a celebration at this park after we get back from wiping out all the curses from this village, and by then I’ll have enough information to see if that’s a good day to confess to him. Understand?” You nod, shocked that he had literally planned this all out. He gets up, nodding at you and waving, giving you a playful wink before leaving the room. — Here you were now, sitting on the picnic blanket. Shoko digs her hand into her pocket, pulling out a few cigarettes. You eye them as she whips out a lighter, delicately placing the cigarette into her mouth and lighting it. Taking in a deep breath, you watch her exhale, a hazy cloud of gray swirled around into the air. You never took Shoko as a person to smoke, but your gut wrenches. Does Gojo like smokers? He seemed interested in Shoko, and maybe Shoko was trying to confess with him before you and Geto had crashed the party. Nervously shoving the marble in your ramune down, you stutter, Shoko glanced up. Her lukewarm eyes stared into yours. “Have a question, honey?” her cigarette between her pointer and index, she coughs before placing it back into her mouth. “Uh, yeah. A-actually.” A pleasantly surprised face covered her calm expression, looking at you with curiosity, she nods, telling you to continue. “...Do you have a crush on Gojo?” She looks at you, bewildered, before pulling the cigarette out of her mouth. Chortling turning into coughing, she spits into the grass. “Oh NO honey, I can’t even picture dating a guy, actually, especially not that monkey. What made you think that?” Waves of relief rushed over your body, and you realize how stiffly you were sitting up. Relaxing your shoulders, you take a swig out of your ramune. “Uh, I-I don’t know. I saw you two u-uh... Really close...” Shoko smiles, her eyes crinkle at the side as she did. Scoffing a little, she places the cigarette back between her lips, taking a deep inhale before exhaling. “We were talking about shit, no bother, oh hey, Geto’s back.” You stare at where she’s pointing, Geto’s hands were shoved deep into his pockets. He had a toothy grin on his face, and strands of hair strayed from his bun as the wind whipped against him. “(Y/N)! I have news~!” he screams, approaching the picnic with long strides. Your heart jumps out of your chest, did he talk for you instead, and got Gojo to confess? “I set you and Gojo up!” he sang, sitting down with a heavy thud and digging his hand into the picnic basket, sticking his tongue out as he searched for snacks. He looks at you sadistically, thoroughly enjoying the shocked expression on your face. “WHAT?” Shoko snickers a little, before changing it into a cough as you glare at her. “Yep, he’s coming back now, so you better prepare!” yanking out a snack, he peers down. “Fuck yeah! Dried squid!” “ARE YOU GOING TO FUCKING IGNORE HOW YOU JUST SET UP MY CONFESSION WITH GOJO SO CASUALLY?” He looks up at you, sharing a look with Shoko before both burst into laughter. “(Y/N) being angry is a fucking knee slapper, isn’t it Shoko?” ‘Who the fuck uses the phrase knee slapper, Geto?” Ignoring Shoko’s sarcastic comment, Geto stared up at your figure. “Anyways, go for it sweetheart.” Geto calmly responds, Shoko still laughing. You splutter, cursing Geto under your breath and everyone under his family tree for raising such a child. “Aw hey now (Y/N), no cursing me! I know you’re doing it, and hey look, here he comes! Shoo lovebirds!” he waves his hand. Shoko, in an attempt to calm down, pulled her knee into her chest and giggled into her arms. You match your line of sight with his, Gojo’s lanky build was quickly approaching. Instead of his usually scowling face, he seemed more relaxed. “Yo.” he scratched the back of his neck as he walked up to the group, studying the grass. “Sorry for blowing up.” Geto stood up, patting Gojo’s back. “There there, truthfully no one gives a fuck! Actually, I don’t know if you remember but (Y/N) over here requested your audience, bye bye now!” shoving Gojo in your direction, he stumbled a little, before scrambling and placing his hands on your shoulder. ‘Sorry.” he murmured, a light blush crept up to his cheeks. “had to try to grab onto something or else I fall flat on my face.” You found your cheeks also getting warm, you touched your skin, thankful that he was looking in another direction. “Yeah. No problem.” “Fuck off, you two! Flirt somewhere else!” hollered Geto. “OKAY, HOLY SHIT!” hollered Gojo back, rolling his eyes before he looked down at you. “Geto told me you wanted to talk to me about something.” Your breath hitched, and you nodded nervously, he cleared his throat, arm snaking around your waist. Shocked by the sudden realization that he had his arm wrapped around your fucking waist, your heart was now pounding out of your chest, eyes wide. “The plot thickens.” Shoko lazily laid her head down on Geto’s shoulder, he grinned. “That’s my fucking child right there.” — Gojo walked with you on a long, narrow path. Trees as a sort of canopy hung over your head, rustling with the wind. No people in sight. He cleared his throat again, looking down at you. “Uh, here looks really nice. Pretty peaceful, and there’s seating.” he gestured to a bench with his unoccupied hand. You nod as he pulled you a bit closer into him, before letting go. A whine almost leapt out of your throat before he slammed your hands over your mouth, for all you knew he wasn’t going to ask you out, and rather ask you directions to the nearest bathroom or some shit. “Hey, sit down.” Snapping out of your daze, you nodded, sitting down and staring at the opposite direction of wherever he faced. You wished you had the courage to stare at his face, to look at his sunglasses while he ruffled his snow white locks. His defined collarbones, and his chiseled jawline and... “So! What did you wanna talk about, (Y/N)?” you whipped your head to stare at him, jumping a little as you did so. “Um.” FUCK, what were you supposed to say? “...Lovely weather we’re having?” Gojo scoffed, leaning towards you. He really did know how to work a person. Breathing heavier then you were when he pulled you closer to him, you looked at him, anticipating whatever he would say. “I know that’s... Not what you were asking to talk to me for. Let me guess, you have a crush on Geto and you want to ask me how to get him to like you?” ‘What! No!” you responded exasperatedly, hiding your face with your hands. “I... Don’t have a thing for Geto!” “What was that?” Gojo paused, before pulling at your sleeve. “Hey, I couldn’t hear you.” joking teasingly, he fixed his askew sunglasses. “I DON’T HAVE A THING FOR GETO!” He jumped back, rubbing his temples and sighing before chuckling. “You didn’t have to be that fucking loud! Holy shit that hurt my ears.” rubbing them, he looked at you with a laugh. You noted that his friendly behavior was back in business, as opposed to the serious one he had adopted as soon as you started hanging out with Geto. Suddenly, the atmosphere changed as his laughter died out, both of you silent. “Then... Who do you have a thing for?” Gojo whispered breathily, crossing his legs. You opened your mouth, about to respond with every bit of power that you had left inside of your already frazzled body that he was the one that you had a thing for, and the one you had a thing for for multiple fucking months. You closed it before you could, taking a deep breath in. “Hey.” leaning closer into your face, you swore you could count every hair strand that he had. He breathed heavily as well, and his chest heaved, he placed a hand onto your shoulder. “It’s okay, you can tell me.” You shook your head, looking away once again. He cursed to himself, was he too straight forward? Or were you that stupid, did he have to confess himself? No, he didn’t want to damage his pride. He wanted you to confess, to tell him how much you loved him, and the things you wanted to do together. But what if you were going to tell him that you had a thing for Shoko or some shit? “Come on, (Y/N), I won’t judge you.” ‘No!” you shook your head furiously again, “you’re going to judge me!” “I wont, come on, spill!” You bit your lip, twisting yourself to look at him, tears dawning on your eyes. Diving headfirst into his chest, you whined. Fuck it all. “I like you, Gojo.” “...What?” he wrapped his arms around your head, looking down at you sniffling on his t-shirt. “I like you, I like you, I like you DAMN IT!” you whined, banging your fists against his chest weakly. “Woah, hey there little baby.” he pushed your head gently off of him, kissing your red, sweating forehead gently. “I like you too, (Y/N).

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dreamii-yume · 4 years ago

Note

Did you say birthday crumbs? 😌😌😌

I saw the cradle in his bday card and immediately thought. Lilia likes babies. He wants babies. MC can give him a baby... Whether she likes to or not.

It's his birthday! Why don't she fulfill his wish, please?

Yume may be very late for Daddy Lilia’s birthday, but there are never truly a time where we can be “late” for hornii. (΄◉◞౪◟◉｀)

“You would be a great mother. I’m sure of it.”

Lilia had randomly told you that one day as what you initially thought as a strange way of breaking the silence. You didn’t think too much of it, there were more things that the old fae had said that left you speechless after all. You laughed at it and took it as a compliment instead, flattered even. He was truly a man full of surprises, you naively thought that day. You didn’t even notice that glint of mischief in his eyes, a sign that may or may not just be some childish intuition, but he was dead serious.

...You know, thinking back, you should’ve noticed all the signs while it was still there, harmless and tamed. You did not understand what he really meant by it, but you accepted it anyway, since you genuinely thought that he meant no ill will. It was most women’s dream to become a good mother after all and you just happen to be very good at taking care of kids. So, for this talent to be recognized by someone older and more experience than you in raising kids, it made you happy. But ever since that day, Lilia started acting strange towards you.

...For some reason, every time you meet up with him, coincidentally or not, it was always your stomach that he’s most especially delicate to. During one of his surprise acts of affection, his hands would always snake down across your tummy, caressing them through your shirt. Whenever he’ll take the opportunity of resting his head down on your lap, you’ll find him eyeing your stomach with a loving look in his eyes, almost as if he’s waiting for something. Even times when you’ll suddenly find him in your bed the next morning, leaning his ear on it like there’s even something to hear on the other side. When you get scratches and wounds just near your waist line, Lilia would freak out and patched you up as fast as possible, whispering something about how upset he is for something to damage your skin on this specific spot.

You weren’t one to judge people, Lilia was a man full of surprises after all. It wouldn’t be too strange if he has some kind of stomach fetish of some sort. Even though you knew that this man was a lot older than what you already thought, Lilia knows best on how to use his appearance as weapon and mean to get out of the situation. He’s so childish and mischievous, kinda like how a typical young boy would act, and to you, who’s weak against the affections of a child, it was a blade that cuts you deep. It bothered you for a bit, but eventually got used to it, letting him do what he wants.

“Eh? Lilia-senpai, you have kids?”

“You can call them that, but they’re not my own.”

Eventually, you started catching on his true intentions bit by bit and they were surprisingly very wholesome...At first, at the very least. He was very careful of not naming the identity of the children that he took care of, but being able to hear him fondly remembering his moments with them, you came to understand him a bit more. You didn’t want to assume to much to a life that you’re not very familiar with, but a simple thought came into your mind.

Perhaps, Lilia was simply...lonely.

He is fond of children, and had claimed to raise some until they could walk in their own out in the outside world. His bond and love for them was undoubtedly absolute, but as he said, his relation to them was not something that he could call his own. Perhaps Lilia was not interested in your abdominal region alone, but instead of the womb that can bare those children. Thinking that, you almost considered all his actions justified, not that you didn’t before, but at least you have some sort of context behind it. Lilia said that you were going to be a great mother someday, but with these thoughts in your head, you just can’t help but think that it’s a compliment that best suit him instead.

...That’s what you kept thinking as he one day grabbed you by the hand, leading you in the bounds of his room. His hands were so smooth, moving across your arms, legs, and back, giving you goosebumbs along the way. Of course, his last destination was on your stomach, going underneath your shirt and feeling warmness of it all. He nibbles on your neck like a little mouse, but with one wrong move, his fangs could absolutely pierce your flesh open. Charmed by his hypnotic touch, you reaction didn’t quite line in with your rationality as Lilia pulled you by your chin and slammed his lips against yours.

With his tongue playing inside your cavern, his saliva felt as if it was laced with natural aphrodisiac, rendering you immobile. You were surprised, but got you distracted enough to not be able to notice your clothes slowly being stripped away. Chuckling, Lilia couldn’t help but find yo oh-so adorable, having to completely wrap you around his fingers

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

“P...Please...I-I’m so full...” You sobbed as you covered your face in embarrassement, still in disbelief that something like this is happening to you. “Pull out...! Please, I c-can’t take any more...!”

Flinching as his fingers traced over the small bulge in your stomach, filled with the seed that can penetrate the depths of your flower so easily. “Not yet, Love. Just a little more.” He whispered, eyes half-lidded and seemingly drunk with both lust and pleasure. “We’ll have to make sure that you get the most of it in.”

A sharp, burning pain spread from your lower region as he pushed himself in your cunt deeper. “Aagh!” You squeaked as you instinctively grabbed the sheets and grit your teeth. Despite his best attempt of stuffing your hole with his own cock, his overwhelming cum had still managed to seep out through the gaps and stains the bed. Lilia hummed in disappointment, before scooping some in his fingers.

“Aw...What a waste.” He sighed, coming into terms that your human body just doesn’t have enough capacity to hold truck-load of a fae’s love juice. You also hoped that he had come to understand that yourbody is practically giving out on you. You’re exhausted, after being relentlessly fucked for hours, you just wanted to let your heavy eyelids fall but every time you do so, Lilia would use pain to wake you up. However, he took one look at the white substance sticking to his fingers and he proceeded to glance back at you, the look in his eye was not something you appreciated. Unfortunately, you were not given enough time to ponder over what went through his head as he suddenly shoved those cum-filled fingers inside your mouth.

He pinches you tongue, smearing the flavor of his love juice on your taste buds with a sadistic smirk on his face. “...Guess we’ll just have to improvise, yeah~?” He playfully said, as your mouth quavered whilst forcefully tasting his salty juices. You whined at his actions, but Lilia sighed heavenly from just your horrified and tearful expression combined. “Aah...What a good girl...I knew you were the perfect fit for me~!”

To your dismay, he began to move again, motivated to ruin your body both inside and outside once more than it already is. He pulled his fingers out of you, before immediately cupping your cheeks obsessively. “Those eyes...Oh, how I love those eyes.” Lilia said and in an instinct, you closed them as a force of habit when he began to move his hips, dragging your battered walls along. “...The eventual eyes of a dedicated mother, a loving wife.”

“Even after all this time, your eyes haven’t died yet. How wonderful...” You cried as you felt the disruption straight into your womb, toes clenching as you weakly gripped onto him. “This is exactly why...”

“...You would be a great mother, Darling...” Lilia told you once again, reminiscent of his former words but now carries a heavy burden on you. His eyes glows red, learning closer to your lips to give you yet another painful, yet passionate kiss. “...And just the perfect, loving wife that I dreamt of.”

Since I was late, this doesn’t seem to have anything related to Lilia’s birthday at all (*´Д｀*) pls im sorry my head is long been drained but regardless, Yume’s still going to put this in the Birthday Crumbs watch me break my own rules lol

Yume’s Resolution is to get a driver’s license and be better at it, and write sinfics faster. (*´꒳`*) What’s yours, Darlings?

#twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere #lilia vanrouge #yandere lilia vanrouge #Birthday Crumbs

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sinkix · 4 years ago

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Haikyuu!! │Boys reaction to you calling them ‘Daddy’│ Ft. Daichi, Iwaizumi, Kuroo & Kageyama

Okay SO, I took inspo from @animewh0re ‘s ‘Kuroo Tetsurou x Accidental Daddy HC’ post so big shout out to her ly bb - be sure to give them a follow <3

For this post I picked some of the characters I felt would be more likely to have a daddy kink so their reactions would be the most interesting/comical whether the reader was doing it was intentionally or not. There were some others I had in mind that I may make into a second part. I got a little carried away writing these as you will see lmao, oopsie.

! All characters are 18+ - Contains NSFW content !

My Ko-fi - Because a caffeinated Kix is a productive one.

Without further ado, enjoy ! ~

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･

Daichi:

I feel like Daichi low-key already knew he had a daddy kink

Like somewhere deep in that dudes soul he just had a fuckin hunch.

However he never brought it up to you because he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, being the kind and considerate dude he is.

One night you were both just relaxing and watching a movie, he was tracing his finger along your thigh because let’s face it he is 100% a thigh man.

At some point you began getting restless, so you shifted yourself to face him, propping yourself up against his knee as you leaned down to kiss him, cupping your hands around his cheeks. He grunts in approval, cheekily sliding his hands down to squeeze your ass, using the moment of surprise to slide his tongue in and deepen the kiss. He’s pretty crafty when he wants to be.

After a few minutes you could feel yourself growing impatient, raising the hem of your baggy shirt and grinding your clothed slit against the ridges of his thigh.

Daichi’s weakness #8 activated, thigh riding.

He drags his palms against your hips, taking control of your vigorous movements and forcing more pressure against your cunt and causing you to whimper. Lowering your head next to his, soft moans grace against the shell of his ear in wisps that send shivers down his spine.

You can sense Daichi’s own dwindling patience as the momentum becomes desperate with the way he’s now hastily grinding your hips down onto him, groaning at the sensation of your juices dripping through the thin fabric and cooling against the skin of his thigh.

All of a sudden a long and breathy “Mhmmm~ daddy” escapes your lips, and this dude is so taken aback.

Snapping your head up to face him, his eyes are glazed over with an intensity enough to make your core tremble, your cheeks flushing at the realisation of what you just blurted out starts to sink in.

“Fuck, I want to hear you say that again baby.”

Without warning he flips you over and on to the couch, hovering over you as his hips buck against the wetness covering your clothed core, eliciting more moans as he sucks on the tender skin of your neck.

“A-ah daddy...”

“more.”

His tone was desperate and commanding, only further igniting the pleasure growing between the two of you.

Trailing his hands down to the edge of your underwear and slipping them inside, his fingers find their way to your clit and rub the area in soft, circular motions, sucking harder against the skin of your neck and streeling his tongue along the bruised aftermaths.

“Daddy..”

“Again.”

You didn’t pay any mind to the rest of the movie, and you both had a lot of fun with this new found kink the two of you shared.

Iwaizumi:

Since Iwa radiates big dom energy and you cannot convince me otherwise, I feel like he is also one that just has a hunch that this is something he’s into.

You already have a hella Dom x Sub relationship sexually so this experimentation was probably long awaited. A slip up no less, and an embarrassing one.

It was a late Friday evening after school, the sun was already long gone yet you were still helping Iwa and Oikawa practise by tossing for them as many times as they requested. How they weren’t already beyond the point of burn out you didn’t know.

Glancing at the wall clock which read ‘8:23pm’, Iwa huffed and rubbed the back of his head. “All right, it’s time to call it a night.” “But Iwa-chaaaann--” Oikawa interjected. “No. Plus, I’m sure (Y/N) is exhausted by now hm?” He whips round to face you and you nod in agreement, eyes hooding from fatigue at the long days events. “Fineee.” Oikawa grumbles, pouting his lips playfully and sending you a wink, rolling your eyes and sticking your tongue out at him in response.

A few minutes later, most of the balls and club equipment are packed away. You’re tossing the last few balls into the basket when Iwa saunters up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist which sends the ball tumbling across the floor.

“Ah, daddy don’t-”

silence.

Pure. utter. silence.

The words had escaped from your mouth before you could stop them.

The sound of the ball rolling echoes throughout the room and you can feel Iwa’s entire body tense up while in his hold, hands digging into your hips as he lets out a low grunt. You sheepishly look in Oikawa’s direction, who’s shooting you both a glance as if to say ‘so this what y’all get up to?’ Attempting to stifle his snickers and the sudden light his face has been brightened with.

Little did he know this was the first time you had actually called him that, and it was raging a lustful fire through his body. The body now roughly thrusted up against you.

You had a feeling Iwa would never hear the end of this.

Walking a fine line between pressing against your body and full on grinding, he utters his next few words as abruptly as possible.

“You can head on out Oikawa, me and (Y/N) will finish up cleaning.”

This only furthers his amusement, the cogs in his head turning as he gives a quick nod, strolling toward the gym doors painstakingly slow as if savouring every last ounce of tension brewing in the air. “Ooookay, have fun, daddy-chan.” The howls of his laughter can be heard even after the doors swing shut, you two stay rigid until his voice fades off in the distance.

“Follow me, now.”

Without waiting for a response, he grabs you by the wrist and drags you into the storage room, slamming you against the locker, he stares down at you hungrily as his lips crash against yours, hands ravaging every curve of your body. Pulling away, a string of saliva connects as his lips brush against the crook of your neck. “I want you to say that again, little slut.” Snaking into the waistband of your shorts and dragging a digit against your slit, the words flow out effortlessly. “D-daddy please...”

“Fuck, I’m going to have so much fun with you, kitten.”

And fun with you he did.

Kuroo:

Y’all are always clowning and pulling some buffoonery on each other so this time you figured you’d kick it up a notch.

Kenma and Kuroo were talking while the rest of the team were doing warm-down stretches after practise.

Cue operation ‘Make Kuroo squirm’. Commencing stage 1.

Lingering behind Kuroo, you rest your chin on his shoulder and fold your arms around his waist, pulling him in for one of your behind-hugs that he adores.

oh how naive he was.

Swaying lovingly from side to side, you take the opportunity when Kenma looks away. With the most innocent of tones you could muster, you tilt your head upward, dragging your teeth gently against the lobe of his ear, and strike.

“Daaaaddy?”

When I tell you homeboys body freezes up, I mean that shit is like an iceberg that could cause Titanic 2.0

Kuroo whips his head round to face you, wide-eyed and eyebrow cocked as if to say ‘damn you really just went there?’

You smile sweetly, fluttering your lashes and feigning an innocence which you know drives him up the wall, a ‘try me bitch’ expression darting in your eyes.

He smirks at this, huffing under his breath so quietly it’s barely audible.

“You’re so in for it later, kitten.”

You knew this, but it was more than worth seeing him suffer for the time being.

Kenma’s attention is now directed back to Kuroo after watching Lev get tangled in the volley net like a fly done dirty by the Darwin theory.

Commence stage 2.

They continue their conversation, all the while your hand is roaming stealthily under his shirt, trailing along every line, curve and crevice of his abs and pectoral region.

Kuroo is whipped for the sensation of you feeling him up, he won’t ever admit to it but he caves under your touch.

You feel his posture stiffen as your hands hover above the region of his crotch.

Gotcha.

“What’s wrong, daddy?” Your voice is only loud enough for Kuroo to hear, and judging by the way Kenma looks at him next you can imagine his face is nothing short of priceless.

Pudding head senses something awry with Kuroo because my guy looks well and truly stumped.

“Uh, excuse us a sec.”

Kuroo without warning flings your body over his shoulder and strolls toward the gyms entrance. You playfully whack his back with your fists and flail your legs, barking at him to let go. The whole team turns their attention to you and laughs.

“Get some (Y/N)! Lev hollers, and the last thing you see is Yaku slapping him up-side the head before the doors close.

Placing you back on your feet, he doesn’t give you a second to adjust before kabe-donning you against the building wall, the rain only further adding to the steamy atmosphere you had created.

Grabbing your wrist and guiding it to his shorts, your fingertips brush against the tent straining against the crimson fabric.

“See how hard you’ve made me princess? I can’t go ahead with the team meeting like this. Be a good slut for daddy and get on your knees, I’ll gladly make a mess of that pretty little face.”

You comply, shivering as the damp grass caresses the skin of your knees.

“You like calling me daddy, huh? That turn my little whore on?” Kuroo grunts, thrusting himself repeatedly into the back of your throat until his balls touch your chin. Tears well in your field of vision and start streaming down your cheeks which he wipes away tenderly. “Well, I’ll make sure you call me that more often.”

10 minutes and a very sore throat later, you both finish up and Kuroo looks more than satisfied, running his fingers through your disheveled hair and marvelling at the mess he made of your makeup.

“Clean yourself up in the restroom princess, I’ll see you back inside and we’ll continue this later. I’m far from done.”

With a sly smirk and a peck on the cheek, he walks back into the gym.

Needless to say he’s definitely going to make you call him daddy from now on, and you got many suggestive stares when you made your embarrassing debut back into the gym.

Kageyama:

Okay so the thought has probably never crossed Kags mind since his head is filled with like 98% volleyball.

The other 2% being the undying love he has for you. But hey, 2% is still 2%, I’ll take it.

Your sex life was although very satisfying, pretty vanilla. The only time it got really intense was if Kags had a bad day or was bubbling with jealousy, in which case a surprising and un-tamable dom side of him emerges.

This often made you ponder what would happen if you addressed him under a title with said connotations. The curiosity of how he would react was slowly ebbing away at you.

So one day, being the scheming little shit you are, decided to test the waters.

The day had started off pretty well, it was a Saturday and you were taking a walk around town.

Kags wanted to grab some snacks so you headed to the store, agreeing to wait outside.

A few minutes go by and he still hasn’t come out, however the roaming eyes of a guy opposite left you feeling incredibly uneasy.

You shifted in place awkwardly, until he decides to approach you.

Up close he was sleazy, with a menacing glint in his eyes that made you recoil.

Resting his elbow on the wall beside you, he leans in way too close for comfort.

“Hi baby, you’re not with anyone are you? Mind giving me your number?”

His voice was low and threatening, as if daring you to decline his order than was snidely masked as an offer.

Mustering up all the courage you had, you raised your chin and stared up at him defiantly. “No, I have a boyfriend.”

He chuckles at this, leaning in closer and challenging you further.

“Well, I don’t see him.”

“I’m right here.”

There Kags was, standing outside the entryway to the store, bearing the most livid expression you had ever seen. You’re pretty sure there were flames surrounding his aura.

The guy backs up, letting out a causal whistle before wordlessly turning in the other direction, leaving the two of you alone again at last.

“Tobio wha-”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fi-”

“We’re going home.”

The walk was silent and you could sense the tension in the surrounding atmosphere.

After opening the door and tossing the bags to the side, Kags pins you against the front door and pulls you in for a fervid make out, intertwining your tongues and fighting for the dominance which he easily obtains.

He runs his hands ravenously over every inch of your upper body, making his way down south until he reaches your underwear, using one hand to grind his digits along your folds while the other fondles your breasts.

Suddenly, you have a lightning bolt moment and decide to put your thoughts to the test.

“Mhmm-..Daddy..”

What you just did flipped a switch on inside Kags he never knew existed.

He pauses for a moment, staring at you with wide eyes and heated cheeks, he actually looks choked up.

“w..what did you just say...?”

“...Daddy?”

At this point he straight up loses it.

Picking you up bridal style, he carries you to the bedroom and bends you over his knee, hastily unbuckling his belt and folding it into a make-shift whip.

“Count each time I spank you, and fucking thank me when you do it.”

Stunned, you nod feebly, still processing this side of him you have never seen before.

whack.

“A-h! One. thank you...”

“Thank you what?”

“Thank you, daddy.”

Kags traces the red mark decorating your ass lovingly with his finger before raising the belt again for a second blow. “You belong to me and only me, I’ll mark up your pretty body beautifully.”

You had belt marks on your rear for over a week and couldn’t walk right the following day lololol.

#haikyuu!!#hq #haikyu #haikyuu headcanons #hq headcanons #haikyuu x reader #daichi sawamura #haikyuu smut #kuroo tetsurou #karasuno #nekoma #aoba johsai #haikyuu imagines #kageyama tobio #iwaizumi hajime

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plush-rabbit · 3 years ago

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Relationship Headcanons W/ Spinner

Request: What if spinner had an s/o that also had a reptile based quirk? Maybe a snake? 🐍💕 They’d still have human legs but have a snake like-tail and a forked tongue. Their bite is venomous and to top it off they have little clawed hands, they love to holds hands with him and give him lots of praise ❤️

A/N: Spinner deserves more!! Spinner rights!! I want to be a degenerate with Spinner!!

He’s still awkward around you, still apprehensive to hold your hand or to do anything remotely romantic with you. Shuichi grew to be isolated, and grew to know that there are organizations out there against the way that he looks. He knows what he looks like. He can feel the scales, feel the claws and shed himself out when his skin has grown too tight and lackluster. He knows that he isn’t the most desired and it’s awkward. He wants to be vulnerable around but finds it hard to do so. There are times where he’s resting on your lap, your hands held in his while your tail moves to wrap itself around his leg; it’s during these times that he finds the most solace he can in the life he lives.

Soon enough, he grows to be comfortable around you. You both share a similar mutation quirk and in doing so, share similar experiences that can derive from it. He’ll come to you during rather private moments with his head held down a dark hue against his snout, skin flaking and stuck around him in odd parts. In the beginning he sat with his head down as your hands worked around him, but as time went on, he started to become more animated, allowing you to touch where you could without him flinching away from you. His skin is sensitive afterwards, new and soft. He’ll lean onto you, watching as you soothe his skin, his canines digging into his tongue when you comment on how pretty his scales look- a bright green that fades around into something darker, bits on his palms that are paler and his belly so soft under your touch.

Despite how venomous you might be, it all depends on a bite or rather at least a nick. Kissing you can be a bit tricky, having to avoid from accidentally being nicked by your canines but it isn’t too difficult. He’s joked about placing marshmallows under your fangs, his thumb running gently under your canine, feeling the soft press of your tooth press into his softer skin on his palm. He’ll kiss you slowly, hands clawed around your waist leaving lines that puff up in their wake. He’s always nervous to kiss you first- whether it’s his apprehension to touch or fear of your venom- you don’t know, but he kisses you with a shaky press of his lips against yours, whimpering against your mouth before pressing himself closer to you. After his initial apprehension fades, he’s much more passionate, kissing you heavier, pulling you close and grabbing your hands, just desperate to feel you touch him.

He can get flustered easily with anything romantix in the relationship. Not used to being praised for much of anything has left him so new to it that he is unable to respond coherently with anything other than a mumbled ‘thanks’ and quick nod of his head. He’ll take each word of praise but he isn’t going to reciprocate it because at that point, his words will slur together and he’ll only be able to call you ‘pretty’ as he holds your hand. He’ll learn to be better, to sit beside you and nod his head when you call him all the things he should have heard as he grew older. Tears will prick the corner of his eyes and his face will burn as it hides in the crook of his neck. He holds you tight and during nights is when he’ll tell you how nice you are, compliments that spill from his lips and while he is no poet, he tries and means every word that he says.

He’s already quite touchy during the night but when the weather hits low degrees, he’s clinging onto you. You hold him tight, alternating between holding him and having him hold you. His scales are cold and rough when he curls against you, your tail hooked around your legs and he is buried into your chest, eyes closed and listening to your heart beat, a soft melody for him to sleep to. He holds you tight and when your hands run up and down his arms he sighs, pressing himself closer to you, desperate to feel every bit of you, every bit of your warmth and the cream that you use.

Much like a cat with a feathered toy, your gecko partner is very enamoured with your tail. He watches it constantly, often his attention drifting to it during meetings that run for far too long. He’ll watch with your tail swish, the scales glisten under the light and the tip of it going towards him. His eyes will glance towards you who holds a serious look and he wonders if the tail thinks for itself or if youre the one controlling it. No matter the reason, he holds in his hands, the thick appendage teased and with each motion he can see you grow rigid, the tail smacking against his stomach and he has to hold back a snort. Due to your quick not affecting your entire body, he does help with your shedding process wherever the scales tend to form. Since they rest primarily against your back, he’s careful to touch. His claws pinch at the molted skin and pull away to reveal new skin that is clean and bright. Afterwards, he kisses the edge of where your skin meets your scales, a soothing cream layered above to prevent irritation.

If you paint your claws, he’ll ask that you paint his nails since he’s rather sloppy. He wants to match most of the time or hold onto something neutral like black. He’ll watch you, teasing remarks as you hold his hand. Soon he’ll grow silent, the air light around the both of you, as you raise his hand and blow cool air against his claws. It’s a tender moment that he hadn’t realized had happened, something so strangely close of you simply painting his claws. It isn’t romantic but isn’t platonic either. It’s a deep emotion where you hold onto his hand and where he trusts you to touch him, something that he doesn’t think he would have allowed anyone to do in this scenario. Under a shower, he’ll stare at his hands, careful to not have them chip.

There are dates where you both just sit in his room and do your own activities. Taking each other out can be quite difficult with the notoriety he holds. You’ll lay on his lap, a video playing on your phone while he plays a video game, grumbling about a boss while he watches in-game currency. He likes having you close by, to hold you in his arms and just enjoy an activity together even if it might be a different activity that you both partake in. He simply just wants to be in the same room as you. An old movie will be thrown on and he’ll sit back with his arm thrown over your shoulders with a bowl of popcorn on his lap. Dates will consist of indoor activities, oftentimes inviting other members of the League who will gladly take advantage of doing something fun. Holding a rather morally right attitude about the virtues of hero society- even if he is a villian- he does not cheat but is fully aware if you do, often stopping to your level to help his own team win while avoiding your narrowed gaze.

You both have inside jokes that mostly stem about scale related stuff. Anything that esmelbesa sort of molt is often teased to be each other, sharp grins when one has managed to win the little “argument”. Due to you having a forked tongue, he’ll often ask for you to stick your tongue out and it’s become a staple of your appearance. You’ll roll your eyes, only to stick your tongue out, the split ends reaching past your chin. It’s become a daily occurrence that you’ve simply started to do it unprompted, your eyes wide and hands into a clawed motion. Other jokes stem from molting periods, to the arly kisses where he confessed about wanting to put marshmallows against your canines and his awkwardness in the beginning of the relationship.

At the end of the day, Shuichi just appreciates you in ways that he can never confess. You brought him out of such a heavy place, something he was sure that while he would have had friends beside him, he wasn’t ever sure of finding someone who would mean so much to him in a romantic sense. He holds you close, his lips against yours and he is dependent on you. He sleeps beside you, he makes sure you are safe and that you have eaten before him. He can be awkward and tense in the beginning but he means well and he cares deeply, so new to relationships that when he feels your hands against his body, he leans into it with closed eyes and smile on his closed lips. You are his comfort and he cares for you with everything he has.

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songbirdstyles · 5 years ago

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good vibrations.

summary: it’s a bit more difficult than you’d expected to maintain a relationship with your professor, but you and harry try your best, anyway. (sequel to when i kissed the teacher)

pairing: professor!harry styles x reader

warnings: smut, angst & fluff! m + f receiving oral, facesitting, 69ing. gross frat boys :-(

word count: 14.3k

song inspo.: good vibrations - the beach boys

The first thing you feel when you wake up is a slight jolt of panic.

Your eyes open slowly, staring at the ceiling above you, and that - in itself - is normal. But there’s something heavy wrapped around your waist and a soft aroma of men’s cologne and that’s when confusion settles into your bones.

It lasts a few mere seconds but it’s enough to make you sit up, leaning back against the headboard and rubbing your fists into your eyes. Harry’s arm, firm around your torso just seconds before, drops to your lap, and your eyes follow the path down his arm and to the rest of him. Perhaps it’s strange, gazing at him as he sleeps, unaware of your gaze, but it’s hard to help yourself.

His hair is messy, curls sticking up everywhere, and his face is buried into the pillow your head had just been on. He’s also naked, the duvet falling to just above his bum, and as your eyes trail down the expanse of his bare back, taking particular note of the light pink scratches adorning the top, that’s when the night prior finally comes back to you. Being eaten out against the wall, a playlist made of pure love, his hands on your face as he promises this isn’t a one time thing.

Your professor, fucking you so hard that there’s still a slight ache between your thighs.

You exhale, dropping your head back against the headboard. The thought overwhelms you, momentarily, but you don’t have too much time to dwell on it before you feel Harry stirring besides you, his arm leaving your lap as he rolls over onto his back. His eyes open slowly, squinting as he adjusts to the sunlight streaming through the window, and then he looks at you and the smile that upturns his lips could make you tear up.

“G’morning, baby,” Harry murmurs, voice throaty and quiet. “Hope you had a nice sleep.”

You grin as you watch him slowly sit up, stretching his arms above his head. “It was alright,” you tell him, pausing to yawn. “Your bed is much more comfortable than the one in my dorm.”

“I’m sure.” You scoot forward, and just as Harry turns his head to look at you you lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. They’re dry and you’re sure yours are too - it’s not as though you’d been concerned with putting on lip balm the night before - but it’s perfect, made even better as he presses his hand to your back, pulling your body closer into his, running his tongue along your bottom lip.

A soft moan falls from your lips and he pulls back, nails running along the back of your neck and sending a shiver down your spine. “So needy. S’only 8 in the morning, too.”

You push yourself to your knees and sink into his lap, feeling his hard on against your thigh that proves he’s just as needy as you are, even at 8 in the morning. “Can’t help it,” you mutter, leaning in to press your lips to the underside of his jaw. His head drops back, giving you more room to work as his hand creeps up from where it had landed on your hip to your chest, kneading your right breast in his hand while you work at suckling a hickey into his soft skin. When his fingers tweak at your nipple you pull your mouth away to moan and examine the mark you’d made, brushing your thumb over it lightly. You hadn’t gotten the chance to mark him up last night, save for the scratches that decorated his back, but you’re more than happy to make up for any lost time now. “I miss you, professor. Everything about you. It’s been too long.”

He chuckles, trailing his other hand down to run a finger through your folds, collecting your wetness at the tip of his finger and focusing it on your clit. He presses down and then rubs a slow circle into the sensitive nub, smirking as you whimper at the sensation. “It has been too long. Nearly 10 hours, can’t imagine how you - fuck.”

Your hand had snaked down, wrapping around his member and swiping your thumb over the tip of him. Harry leans in, pressing his lips to your neck, teeth grazing against your skin as you slowly jerk him off, pumping your hand up and down his cock. You think - or you hope - that you can give of some sort of facade of being experienced at this, of knowing exactly what you’re doing, because you truthfully have no idea. You’d never given anyone a handjob but Harry’s finger, rubbing your clit slowly, stutters as he breathes out a groan, and you hope that means you’re doing a good job.

Two of his fingers slip inside your cunt entirely too easily, and you whine at the feeling. Harry curls his fingers upwards, brushing against the sweet spot that has your eyes rolling back into your head. You’re both too worked up for any type of foreplay, you can tell, and so you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his face into yours. Your lips connect, teeth clashing against each other, and when he pulls his fingers out of you, resting both hands on the globes of your ass, you reach down and replace your grasp on his cock, lining it up with your positively dripping entrance before sinking onto him fully.

The burn is a lot less prominent than it had been yesterday but you still hesitate - Harry groans lowly and you exhale, waiting for the ache to morph fully into pleasure before lifting your hips and sinking back down onto him. You swear you can feel traces of him in every crevice of your body, feeling so impossibly full and yet so desperate for more. His hands grip your bum, helping you lift yourself up and down, shaky grunts and moans escaping his mouth whenever you roll your hips just right against his.

It’s slower and less intimidating than it had been the night prior, his hips lazily bucking up into yours, now that you’re not so worried about being able to fit him inside of you. And the noises Harry makes spur you on - throaty cries nearly louder than yours - as you drag your hand down your stomach and rub circles into your clit, slow and gentle, because you know you’re not going to need much to send you over the edge.

“So fucking tight around me,” Harry breathes, teeth nibbling at your bottom lip as his palms smooth over your ass. “Fuck, baby, clench around m’cock, yeah, feels so fuckin’ good -”

Your fingers press harder on your clit and you can already feel your orgasm creeping up on you, and when you rock your hips into Harry’s, feeling his cock brush against your G spot, you toss your head back with a desperate cry, cunt fluttering around him as pleasure rips through your body in waves. Eyes roll back into your head and your nails dig into the back of his neck, pulling his head in to kiss you senseless. With one final grunt and a moan of your name, Harry bucks his hips up, pressing himself as deep inside of you as he can get. The feeling of his cum, shot inside your throbbing pussy, shouldn’t feel so spectacular but God it does and you whine at the feeling, bringing both of your hands up to the back of his head and wrapping your fingers in his curls as you roll your hips back and forth halfheartedly. Merely trying to ride him through his orgasm, and finally Harry presses both of his sweaty palms to your face and pulls you in to kiss him again.

You could kiss him all day. You’ve kissed significantly more people than you’ve fucked (which amounts to a grand total of 2) and you’ve never enjoyed it with anyone as much as you love it with him. Harry makes it interesting, you reckon, hands always going in different spots and making different noises and you could, truly, do it all day.

For a moment the two of you sit there after you’ve pulled your heads away, Harry’s arms wrapped around your back and holding your body to his in a rather intimate hug. Your nails scratch at his scalp, pressing your chin into his shoulder as his fingers trace patterns - tell stories - on the soft skin of your back. Yes, you could stay here forever and be quite happy about it but just as the thought resides in your mind your stomach growls in defiance and Harry laughs at the noise.

“Don’t laugh,” you tell him, voice faux angry as you pull back from him with a smile. “Didn’t have anything to eat last night.”

“Really?” He raises an eyebrow and you nod. “So what did you do before I picked you up?”

Your cheeks heat as you struggle to find your voice to respond, clearing your throat before saying, “Keeping m’self busy, I guess. Now can we please make breakfast?”

Twenty minutes later you’re seated at Harry’s kitchen table, collecting forkfuls of cheesy eggs on your fork and shoveling them into your mouth to appease your overtly ravenous appetite, listening intently to the music coming from Harry’s phone in the kitchen. It’s a song you recognize from the playlist he’d curated the day prior - Happy Together by the Turtles - and you can’t help the smile from bleeding across your face at the sound.

Besides that, though, and the sounds of your forks scraping your plates, the two of you sit in silence for a moment. Beneath the table your feet knock into his - you’d begun swinging your feet out of slight nervousness but it’s grown into the need to see the small smirk that decorates his lips everytime you kick him gently.

When the song changes from The Turtles to And I Love Her by the Beatles, you glance up at him again and then rest your fork on your plate. “Y’know, this is a really nice playlist.”

Harry looks up at you, brows furrowed, and then smiles, and the sight of his dimples makes your heart just about melt. “Well, thank you, baby. Put a lot of effort into it.”

Part of you wants to say it only took you ten minutes but you just nod and tell him, “But I think you might’ve added too many Beatles songs.”

“There’s no such thing,” he says, and you raise your eyebrows. “S’not my fault they’ve written some of the greatest love songs of all time.”

You snort, then, leaning back in his (oddly comfortable, considering the quality of that in his office) kitchen chair. “Sexy Sadie is not one of the greatest love songs of all time.”

He pauses at that, forkful of eggs hanging barely an inch from his mouth. “Well, maybe not that song, but -”

“10 Beatles songs out of 45 is rather excessive.” You giggle as he stands abruptly, marching into the kitchen and returning seconds later, phone in hand, still blaring the Beatles as if in defiance. “What’re you doing now?”

Harry sits back down, scrolling through his phone. You stand up, moving around the table until you’re beside him, and you bend down to look at what he’s doing.

“What song d’you think should replace Sexy Sadie, baby?” Harry asks you, turning his head to where yours is a mere few inches from his. “Since you don’t seem to think that one is very romantic.”

You roll your eyes. “You’d be hard pressed to find a single person who considers that song to be the height of love, professor.”

“Yeah, right.” Briefly Harry rests his phone flat on the table and pushes his chair back, patting his thighs, and you try not to look too pleased as you wiggle into his lap. With his arm firm around your waist and his chin on your shoulder you pick his phone back up, scrolling through Spotify.

“I don’t think you have Good Vibrations on that love playlist, Harry,” you decide. Just to confirm your suspicion you go back into the playlist, scrolling through all 45 songs and - as you’d thought - the lack of Good Vibrations is odd to you. “And that, professor, may just be the best love song of all time.”

He hums as you add the song to the playlist. “Better than Somebody to Love?”

You shrug, sticking out your bottom lip as you flick through Spotify. “That song just makes me sad, sometimes. And you don’t even have that, either.”

“I definitely do!”

“Nope,” you tell him, turning your head to the side to examine his all-too confused expression. “But you do have Get Down, Make Love, which says quite a bit about you.”

Harry groans, and you laugh, and for a moment that’s all that happens - and then the moment breaks, and he reaches out to take his phone from your grasp, and you shift in his lap to look at him with a soft smile.

Whatever banter you’d been having before slowly dissipates, and you clear your throat. “D’you think we should talk about this?”

His hand drops to your hip, squeezing it through the pink button up shirt he’d worn yesterday that you’d snatched from the bedroom floor. “Don’t really think there’s much to talk about,” he says, but you know that isn’t necessarily true.

Truthfully, the last 12 hours have perhaps been the greatest of your life and even if he told you it wasn’t a one time thing - well, he’d just cum inside you and you need to make sure it wasn’t his way of keeping you for the night. And you couldn’t bring yourself to think Harry’s like that at all - the opposite, truly, the greatest man you’ve ever met. But you need to make sure, to ease your mind.

“Um - I guess -” you struggle for the words, suddenly feeling embarrassed for bringing it up, and Harry’s hand flies up to your cheek, cradling it, and the gentle action has you relaxing almost immediately. “I know you said this wasn’t a - one time thing, or whatever -”

“And it isn’t,” he interrupts, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Not for me.”

“Okay,” you breathe, the turmoil your stomach had been going through calming slightly. “But there’s still other things - you’re still my professor. Seems like kind of a big thing.”

Harry pauses for a moment, and you adjust yourself in his lap again - you can feel the beginning of a boner against your ass but you figure you’ll deal with that later. Then Harry drops his hand from your cheek to the small of your back, massaging soft circles through his shirt, and says, “I want you to know that I’ve never slept with a student before. Never even thought about it.”

You nod, and you know it’s true. You’ve heard girls in class talking about it - how he’s refused his students’ advances and reported them for it, and any rumour of him hooking up with a student was immediately squashed by everyone in the surrounding area. He’s a prude. He’s probably into, like, old ladies, or dudes, or something, because there’s no way he can be a regular guy and not have fucked one of us already.

It made you roll your eyes to listen to, but it did cement in the fact that Harry wasn’t one of the few teachers at university who would willingly hop into bed with any student who asked politely.

“But I like you - a lot.” His hand pauses on your back as he draws his bottom lip between his teeth, gnawing gently. “If you weren’t my student, things would be perfect.”

Part of you hates the word choice, that things are so imperfect now, but you know it’s true. Know that, even if you simply weren’t in his class, everything would be so much easier.

You nod. “I like you a lot, too.” And then you stop and think before adding, “I think as long as we don’t do anything on campus it’s fine.”

“Yeah,” Harry says, leaning in to press a kiss to your nose. It’s as though the two of you can’t live for more than a minute without showing some sort of affection towards each other, and perhaps that should make you concerned but you love it. “We’ll keep everything here. No funny business in m’office or anything like that.”

That resolution lasts roughly a week.

You go to his office after class even though you’ve run out of things to grade, and you work on homework and he helps you study and the most action either of you get is small kisses over his desk. It’s a struggle to pull away from him, but the worry that both of you feel about someone walking in is enough to keep you in your seats.

Though, for the most part, his office hours remain empty. A few stragglers come in, a mix of students who genuinely need help and girls who you can tell hate that you’re in there during their seduction attempts. And Harry plays music, of course, turning it down to the lowest volume on the rare occasions that students come in.

At the end of the day, you walk out to his car together and Harry either drives you home or to his apartment - depends what you’re feeling that day - and in the morning he either picks you up or takes you from his apartment to your first class and it’s a nearly perfect arrangement.

You’ve forgotten, though, about your decision to remain innocent on campus. It’s what you’d expected to happen at some point, with your absolute desperation for each other, but it still manages to slightly shock you as you glance up at him from your spot on your knees. Your hand works at his dick, watching the way he drops his head back against the wall, grasping the cushions of the couch in his fingers.

“Fuck,” he breathes, voice cracking on the c, though you can’t quite hear it over Waterloo by ABBA playing just a bit too loudly in his small office. You’d made sure to crank the volume up a bit more than usual in case he let out any too-loud noises, and it looked like he was on his way to doing just that as a grunt escapes from between his gritted teeth. “Fuck, baby -”

(You’ve never given a blowjob before but it seems easy enough, though your stomach turns pathetically as you lean in and lick a thin stripe up the underside of his cock, tracing a purple vein. He seems to like that and you pray he can’t tell you’re an absolute amateur at this all.)

Your thumb swipes over the tip of his cock, which you know he likes, and the moan that’s still barely audible beneath the music proves it. You make sure to keep your eyes on Harry, monitoring his every reaction as you lean in, wrapping your lips around the tip of his length and sliding as much of him as you can down your throat.

That’s good. Harry’s hand goes to the back of your head, wrapping his fingers in the strands of your hair and tugging, groaning near violently, his breathing laboured. “Jesus Christ.”

Your hand drops to the base of his cock, pumping what you can’t fit in your mouth which - admittedly - is just barely less than half. You swirl your tongue around the tip of his cock before pulling your mouth off of him, a string of saliva still connecting your lips and his member.

“Feel good, professor?” you ask, sticking your bottom lip out, but you know very well it does - Harry’s hand goes down to your lips, wiping your spit off of your skin, before leaning back again. “Sure looks it.”

“Keep going, m’girl.”

The thought of being his girl brings a slight smile to your lips, and you could bask in the words for the rest of the day but instead you lean in, bracing both of your hands on his thighs through his nice dress bands, wrinkling beneath your fingers. And now - you really don’t know what to do, besides exactly what you’d done before - but you wrap your lips around him again, lowering your head to take more of him than before, and then you hollow your cheeks (which you’d seen in porn) and swallow around him (which you’d also seen in porn.)

It has the desired effect, seemingly, as Harry yelps, fingers tightening in your hair tight enough that you can begin to feel strands disconnecting from your scalp but oddly enough, you sort of like it. His grip loosens near immediately, scratching your head with the tips of his fingers in some sort of silent apology. Harry certainly seems to like that so you do it again, gathering saliva in the back of your throat and swallowing again, and he moans, the noise cutting through the music (which had turned to Oh, Pretty Woman), and if there happened to be anyone outside they would hear it louder than anything else.

It doesn’t make either of you stop. You pull off of him, sucking in a desperate breath as you pump him in your hand again before going back in, working your mouth up and down his length, relishing in the soft noises that escaped him with every one of your movements.

“God, baby, taking me so well,” Harry mutters, brushing a stray curl off your face. As your tongue flicks over his tip again his hips buck up into your mouth of their own accord - you gag around him and he breathes out a quiet apology but you can tell he’s almost there, and finally he groans, “Gonna cum - fuck - m’gonna cum -”

Perhaps it was a warning so you would pull your mouth off of him, revert to jerking him off, but you may as well finish your first blowjob off with a bang, so you take nearly all of his member into your mouth and suck. You barely get a few seconds before you can feel the ribbons of warm cum shooting into the back of your throat, and when Harry’s moans quiet down into heavy pants you pull off of him. His cum in your mouth doesn’t taste particularly fabulous but you swallow it anyway - it’s not horrible, truthfully. And the way his eyes darken as he watches you makes the slightly unpleasant taste ten times better, anyway.

“C’mere,” Harry tells you, and you rise from your knees to stand between his legs, looking down at him as he tucks himself back into his dress pants. When he buttons them he looks almost normal, not like his dick was down your throat a minute before - but you can tell, looking into his eyes, the effect you’d had on him. “Christ, you’re good at that.”

You hum, bending down to press a kiss to his lips. “Funny how fast you dropped the whole not doing anything on campus act, professor.”

Harry rolls his eyes, rising from his spot sunk into the couch. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

(But it does, of course.)

(Again and again.)

You throw your body across the couch in Harry’s office as soon as you shut the door, dropping your bag to the ground. You pretend not to notice the slightly amused glance your professor gives you - he’s marking up someone’s essay though he’d only assigned them a few days before and you had hardly even looked at the rubric for it. There’s only a few that have been handed in and when you offered, the day prior, to help him grading, he told you he didn’t need it. And you didn’t press it any further, naturally.

Well, you didn’t mind not grading. It was tedious and boring, and you’d only slightly enjoyed it before because you got to spend time with Harry. And you don’t exactly need an excuse, anymore. You can do what you want with him, now, like lying on his couch and kicking your Vans off onto his plush blue rug. There’s already music pulsing through his office, though not a song you recognize from being on the playlist he’d made for you - Strangers by The Kinks.

“Feel free to make yourself at home,” Harry tells you, voice positively dripping in sarcasm, and you roll your eyes with a small smile.

Your phone is buzzing in your pocket and you pick it up, glancing at the text that came in - from Kaitlyn, your best friend, and you scan the what’s up?? that she’d sent you before tossing your phone onto the couch besides you. You’ll answer her later, maybe call her. Thinking of it, you hadn’t talked to her in a bit, but - you’ll call her later, yeah. Catch up.

“Figure I’m going to be here a while, professor. I’ve got an essay for my creative writing class due on -” you pause to think - “Friday and I’ve barely done the draft.”

He furrows his eyebrows as he looks at you, and you don’t even have to glance up at him to feel the slight air of disappointing wafting towards you. “Baby.”

“Hmm?”

“It’s Wednesday. You’ve got an essay due Friday and you haven’t started?”

You shrug, feeling heat flock to your cheeks as you bend to reach into your bag, tugging out your laptop that you, really, only use for essays. “I have started, but I’ve been a bit distracted, I guess.” The only thing you’ve been distracted by is him, truthfully, and he knows it.

For a moment there’s silence filling the air between you, only disturbed by the sounds of your fingers moving over your keyboard. You’ve suddenly felt quite inspired to get a move on with your essay, oddly, and you think that Harry may be the perfect cure to your procrastination habits.

“D’you want my help?” Harry asks, his voice oddly gentle. He’s never necessarily helped you with any homework before though he always asks if you need it, and usually you’d tell him you’re fine but - well, his feedback would be appreciated since you, admittedly, don’t have too much time before this dumb paper is due, so you nod quickly.

Then Harry stands from his spinning chair, letting it roll into the wall behind him and dropping his red pen on top of the essay he’d been grading. You barely have time to look up at him, straining his neck to look at what you have so far for your essay, and you roll your eyes playfully before turning the screen so he can read it.

His eyes move fast as he reads what you have so far, which isn’t enough for how long it takes him to examine your work. You take the time to admire him, the way he pokes his tongue out every so often to wet his lips (which, you’ve noticed, he seems to prefer over wearing lip balm) and the way his eyebrows furrow when he reads certain lines. Harry’s fingers drum against your computer, following the rhythm of the music, and after a minute he leans back on his heels and pushes your laptop away from him, fingers brushing against the soft skin of your stomach from where your shirt has ever-so-slightly ridden up.

You wait a moment for him to speak, and then ask, “Was it horrible? You look like it was horrible.”

Harry shakes his head, curls flopping back and forth (you’re reminded of the beginning of the year, when he used to gel his hair back, though it had grown quite a bit since that point, and you’re not sure gel could have its desired effect on his locks.) “It’s not horrible at all. It’s quite good, actually. Sometimes your sentence structure is a bit wonky, like -” he leans in, tugging your laptop back into his view, fingers dancing across your skin again in a way that you know isn’t accidental, and then he highlights a line smack in the middle of your draft - “here, and a few other spots. But it’s good.” You must do a poor job at concealing the relief on your face, because Harry glances at you and chuckles. “Don’t look so surprised. You’re a great writer. Best that’s ever come into my class, and I’m sure your creative writing professor agrees.”

You shake your head, turning your computer back around so it’s facing you. “I don’t think Professor Capone likes my writing too much. I’m barely scraping an A in her class, but maybe she’s just a tough grader.”

“Reckon she’s just a tough grader. I’ve heard that before.” Harry nods thoughtfully and you can’t help but giggle at the suddenly serious expression that takes over his face, as though whether Capone is a tough grader is akin to the meaning of life. His brows furrow and he glances down at you with a bemused smile. “What’re you laughing at?”

“M’not sure, really,” you tell him, grin spreading across your face. He watches you for a second and then leans down, lips hovering barely a centimeter above yours, and you let your lips touch for just a moment before pushing him away. “Now, c’mon professor, what happened to we shouldn’t do anything in the classroom?” The fact that you two had done just about everything but having truly fucked in this office goes unmentioned, of course.

His response is interrupted by the door opening slowly behind him - your eyes widen and he stands immediately, clearing his throat and backing up so he’s leaning against his desk, cheeks flushed red.

In the doorway is a girl you recognize from your class - Hannah Joseph, you think, and you also believe you’d graded her essay. You give her a small smile and she looks down at you, lying on the professor’s couch with your shoes off, with an air of distinct confusion.

“Miss Joseph.” Harry clears his throat, drumming his fingers against his desk. “What can I do for you, today?”

She pauses, glancing between the two of you with furrowed brows, and you bury yourself back into your essay. Everything about this situation feels wrong and you hate it, hate the energy flowing beside Born to Run by Bruce Springsteen. “Um - sorry if I’ve interrupted something.”

You squeeze your eyes shut at Hannah’s words - she can’t possibly know what the two of you had been doing but you still feel like she does, like she’d been watching you two. If Harry is as nervous as you are about the entire situation he certainly doesn’t show it, just grins at her and says, “Not interrupting anything! Just helping Y/N with her essay, here.”

It isn’t convincing and you can tell Hannah agrees, but she merely shakes her head and makes her way to the desk - Harry walks to the other side and plops in his chair and she takes a seat in the entirely uncomfortable one that you’d opted out of.

She has a question about the essay he’d assigned, naturally. There’s not quite any other reason she should be here but it doesn’t stop your worries. What if she told people she’d seen something suspicious in Professor Styles’ office when she went during his office hours?

You two had been stupid. He was right, you shouldn’t do anything in his office. It’s stupid.

By the time you’ve completed the second to last paragraph of your rough draft Hannah is pushing her chair back, bidding farewell to Harry and giving you a small wave as she leaves - you call goodbye as cheerfully as you can manage as she shuts the door firmly behind her, the noise reverberating through the small room.

There’s silence, at first.

And then Harry sighs, dropping his head into his hands, and you push yourself to sit up, your laptop shutting of its own accord. “Fuck.”

You swallow, glancing down at the light grey fabric of your sweatpants and pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “Yeah. Fuck.”

Born to Run changes into Livin’ Thing by ELO and you’re not sure of what to say, until finally Harry rests his chin on his palms and says, “We can’t take risks anymore, I think. That was really close.” Then he pauses and adds, “Even having you in my office for so long is suspicious. Maybe - maybe we shouldn’t, anymore.”

You nod. Not going to his office every day will certainly be a change, you suppose, even if it’s for the best. You love every moment you spend with him in the cramped office space. And though you know you’ll hate to not be able to kiss him in his office or anything of the sort you know it’s best - the absolute worst thing that could happen is someone walking in while you and Harry are truly in a compromising situation. “Yeah. We can just keep it at your apartment. Nothing wrong with that, now, is there?”

Harry gives a tight lipped grin and then hesitates. “Maybe it’s better too. I feel bad, sometimes. We spend so much time together - feel like I’m taking away your college experience.”

You furrow your eyebrows, leaning forward to rest your chin against the edge of his desk. “My college experience?”

“Y’know - partying and stuff. That’s most people’s favourite parts of college.”

You pause. You’d been to a few parties during the year but they’d never appealed to you much, and truthfully, you’d rather spend your time holed up in Harry’s office. “I’d rather be able to remember my college experience. I’m not quite a fan of parties. Much prefer this place.”

He sends you a small smile but you can tell something’s shifted in the room, and you give it a few more minutes of silence - besides the music - before sliding your laptop into your bag and standing up. You swing your bag over your shoulder and glance at him. “I’m gonna head back to my dorm, alright? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Harry looks up at you and nods, running a hand through his messy curls. “I’ll see you tomorrow, baby. Text me when you get to your dorm, okay?”

“Alright,” you tell him, and then you give him one final smile and you’re gone.

“How do Borachio and Don John decide to disrupt Hero and Claudio’s marriage?”

You pause, sipping thoughtfully on your spoonful of soup. Harry leans against the kitchen counter, watching as you think. “Borachio will convince Maragret to dress up in Hero’s clothes and then Borachio will fuck her on the balcony so Claudio will see.”

Harry raises his eyebrows, nodding subtly and scrolling through his phone for another brief moment. “And what becomes of Hero when Don John sets her up?”

“She dies.”

He nods again and then slides his phone into the pocket of his pajama pants, taking a step forward to where you’re seated on the counter. “You didn’t get a single question wrong, you know.”

You shrug, fighting off the smile that wants to appear on your lips. “Well, I’ve read it a lot, professor. Know that play inside and out, really.”

“Ah.” You open your legs so Harry can slot his body between them, resting his hands on your hips through the oversized sweater you’d bought from the thrift store years ago. “So why’d you want to come over, then? Clearly wasn’t to study, now was it.”

It’s not a question, but you still tilt your head thoughtfully to the side as if in deep thought. Truthfully, it had been a few days since the two of you abolished your time together in his office and it had drastically reduced the time you spent with him. He’s invited you over every night he got home early enough but to go from every day for hours to one or two on certain days is a change you don’t particularly enjoy, even if it’s necessary.

Hence, begging him to help you study. But you still shrug and say, “no, it was. No better person to help me study than my professor.”

“Mhm,” Harry twirls your hair around his finger, then pulls back, pressing his lips briefly to your forehead. “You know you don’t need an excuse to come over.”

You feign offense, sticking out your bottom lip. “Wasn’t an excuse to -”

“I’m not saying it was,” he grins and you cross your arms, smiling softly. “But I just want you to know. You can come here whenever. M’always happy to have you here.”

Internally, your heart melts - but before you can respond you can hear the telltale noise of your phone ringing from where you’d tossed it on the couch earlier when you’d arrived. You groan, dropping your head back against the cabinet before pushing yourself off the counter, padding into the living room. Marie sits, curled up on top of the couch, and you brush your fingers down her back as you glance at whoever’s calling you.

It’s Kaitlyn, and you wince - you’d told yourself you would call her nearly ten times this week but you’d gotten too distracted. By Harry, mainly, but also your essay and the rest of your schoolwork, and you’re tempted to ignore this one too in favor of your professor in the kitchen but instead you press accept and bring the phone to your ear.

“Hey, Kaity,” you say, and hearing her small hey on the other end brings a smile to your face. “What’s up?”

“Well, Dylan and I are going to dinner in like, an hour. D’you want to meet us there? I feel like we haven’t talked - all three of us - in forever.”

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, thinking for a moment. You’d barely been at Harry’s for half an hour but you haven’t seen - or even talked to - your friends in weeks. So you clear your throat and brighten your voice and say, “Sure!”

You can see Harry poke his head out of the kitchen, raising his eyebrows at you, and you bite back a laugh at the site. On the other end, Kaitlyn says, “Cool. See you there, then, and don’t be late, please -” and you say, “Got it,” before hanging up and dropping your phone against the couch.

“Who was that?” Harry asks as you return to the kitchen, his arms wrapping around your smaller frame as he tugs his body to yours.

“My friend, Kaitlyn. I don’t think you know her - she’s a chemistry major.” You wrap your arm around his neck, letting him embrace you before saying, muffled against where your face is buried in his neck, “I’m gonna have to head out soon. Promised I’d meet them at dinner in an hour, and it’s not too short a walk to the cafeteria. But I’ll probably come over after dinner, if that’s okay.”

Harry nods, and when he speaks again you can hear the teasing lilt in his voice. “M’glad you’re going to see your friends,” he tells you, and you smile. “But if you’re gonna leave soon … I guess we better make the most of our time, right?” And you don’t respond before crashing your lips to his.

“I have a question.”

You glance up at your friends, chewing slowly on your bite of noodles. It’s the first time you’ve seen them in - admittedly - a while, nearly three weeks. And it’s a drastic difference when you and them had spent nearly every waking minute together before you’d started seeing Harry, but you didn’t think they’d even notice. After all, Kaitlyn and Dylan had started dating recently, too, and you figured you would give them time off from your third-wheeling.

Well - no, you didn’t figure that. They never gave you an indication that they were bothered by your being there with them, but it was a better excuse than I’ve been fucking my professor, and I haven’t really been thinking of much besides that.

“Yeah?” you tilt your head at Dylan, grabbing your lemonade from the table and taking a sip.

Kaitlyn drops her fork from where she’s been picking at her salad, and then asks, “Well - we’ve kind of been wondering where you’ve been. We haven’t seen you in so long and your roommate said you’re barely there anymore, anyway.”

You raise your eyebrows, squinting at the pair of them in front of you. “You asked my roommate?”

“Well, yeah.” Dylan glances at Kaitlyn and then back at you, and this is beginning to feel like a bit of an intervention. “We didn’t know if you were just mad at us or something.”

“S’not like she’s at our room much, anyway. Always at her boyfriend’s. Nick’s, I think.” You twist more noodles around your fork, making sure to lather them in the slightly-chunky but still edible pasta sauce that the cafeteria had made for today. “I’ve been at my room loads.”

It’s not necessarily the truth but you wouldn’t call it a lie, either. Since you’d stopped going to Harry’s office you’d been spending more time at your room and your roommate had been there more, too - it was curious, since she never used to spend any time there, and you’d started to get to know her a bit, too.

“Her and Nick broke up,” Kaitlyn says, leaning in and taking a bite of her salad. “But - I don’t know. It’s weird. I mean, all of a sudden we never heard from you.” You don’t respond, staring down at your noodles, and she leans closer towards you, “But then - um.”

You glance up. “What?”

“Well - Hannah Joseph said you’ve been spending a lot of time with Professor Styles,” Dylan reveals, drumming his fingers against the lunch table. Your heart drops at his words and you rest your fork against your plate, the utensil still wrapped in noodles. “And there’ve been a lot of rumours.”

With every single word this entire conversation keeps getting worse, and you take in a gulp of lemonade to try and distract yourself. When you’ve swallowed you look up and try to feign disinterest. “What kind of rumours?” you ask, and you’re not quite sure whether your nonchalant facade towards the entire situation is working.

Dylan leans back in his chair, making eye contact with Kaitlyn again - you hate when they do that, especially right now. You feel like they’re having some sort of conversation you’re not allowed to know, that they’re keeping secrets from you and you’re not supposed to do that. They’re your best friends.

(But you’re keeping the biggest secret of all, and you know you’ll never tell them.)

After a moment, Dylan finally says, “Well, when Hannah was telling us about you being in Professor Styles’ office all the time, Alana Williams told us that she walked in on you guys in his office, like, two weeks ago. And you were really flustered and left, like, the second she came in, and he was really awkward about it the entire time.”

Fuck. You’d forgotten about Alana, walking in on you two immediately after you’d kissed for the first time. You know the answer you’re going to get, but you furrow your brows and ask again, “But what was the rumour, then?”

“That you’re sleeping with him.”

Yeah, you expected that. And it’s not like it’s wrong but hearing the words from Kaitlyn’s lips make you feel embarrassed and all of a sudden you want to run out of the cafeteria screaming, run to your dorm and never talk to anyone again. Because if Hannah and Alana told Kaitlyn and Dylan about you being in his office all the time, who else did they tell?

You breathe out a laugh, hoping to God that you sound amused by the entire thing and not absolutely terrified. There’s no foreseeable way you can salvage this and you can’t think of any sort of excuse for your weeks-long absence from your friends because they already mentioned the truth and you can’t tell them that. They’re your best friends and you should tell them the truth, the way they’ve always told you the truth about everything, but there’s no way you can do that now.

You cross your arms over your chest, eyes peeking left and right as though you’ll catch someone watching you, wondering if you really are sleeping with your professor. As if you’ll yell it out. “That’s stupid,” you tell them, and the way their shoulders ever so slightly drop in relief makes you want to scream. “I’m not sleeping with Professor Styles. I’ve just been busy. Overloaded with schoolwork, right now.”

It’s impossible to tell if they believe it, but you roll your eyes and continue anyway. “But I have missed you guys a lot, and I’m sorry for - um - ignoring you. That was fucked up.”

(In the back of your mind, you’re reminded of the way you’d told Harry you’d return to his apartment after dinner. You hadn’t promised but you’d never failed to go to his apartment when you’d said you would. There is a first time for everything, you suppose, so you give them a bright grin that you aren’t feeling at all and lean in. “Speaking of which, what can we do tonight? I’m all yours, I swear. Won’t even think about my assignments.”

The smiles that spread across their faces like wildfire makes you feel ever so guilty - guilty at the fact that, although you do miss them, your heart aches at the fact that you’re leaving Harry high and dry. Well, he’ll live, you know. Probably spend the night watching television with Marie, and you’ll see him tomorrow.

“I’m going to guess you don’t want to go a party, right?” Kaitlyn asks, a grin playing at her lips. They’ve tried to drag you to parties for so long and you hate them, hate everything about them, but -

Right now a party sounds perfect. Perfect to forget about how, apparently, everyone on campus thinks you’re fucking your professor and perfect to extinguish every one of those rumours. So to Dylan and Kaitlyn’s surprise and, truthfully, your own, you lean back in your chair with a bright grin. “I’d love to go to a party! Where’s it at?”

Within ten minutes of being at said party, you regret it quite a bit.

The dress Kaitlyn had picked out of your closet is two years old and certainly doesn’t fit correctly - you can’t remember buying it, honestly, and every couple of minutes you have to tug the top up to cover your tits. You don’t like the way guys are looking at you and more specifically down your shirt, and they look at Kaitlyn too - but perhaps she’s more used to it from going to frat parties more often, because it doesn’t seem to bother her nearly as much as it pisses you off.

Dylan brought you a drink immediately and you took one sip and hated it. You hate everything about being here but you paste a grin on your face, jumping into pictures with people you barely know, and you’re sure if there was ever someone who looked less like the type to sleep with their professor, it’s you right now.

Which is what you were going for. And, if you wanted to take it all the way, you would let one of these frat guys pin you up against the wall and kiss you until you’re breathless, but you can’t do that to Harry. Even if you’re not official - not truly together - the thought of your lips pressed against any that don’t belong to Harry is disgusting. You sent him a text while you were getting dressed, telling him something came up and i can’t come over:(( sorry and he didn’t seem to mind much, merely replying, Sounds good. See you soon. And now, as you stand in a cloud of marijauna, leaning against the wall and periodically pretending to drink from your cup, you realize you’d much rather be holed up in his apartment than here.

Dylan and Kaitlyn are having fun, though, dancing entirely too close on the dance floor. They did this at parties before they started dating, too, bodies pressed close to each other, and you always wondered why they never just came out and got together. The difference between then and now is that, before, Kaitlyn would always drag you out with them at some point, making sure you’re included.

You don’t reckon that’s going to happen now.

So you push yourself off the wall, clutching your phone and your cup in one hand and using the other to brush Dylan on the back as you push past them - you can hardly hear Kaitlyn calling, “Where’re you going?” as you make your way through a crowd of people. When you’ve finally found your way to the edges of the party you can spot an open door leading out to the deck, and you decide that’s where you want to be, so you push yourself through the door and to the violently bitter cold.

It’s a decision you almost regret but there’s so few people outside - two frat boys, one of them who you recognize from your creative writing class, and a girl sitting, half asleep, on the ground. In some odd way you feel like you fit in with the people out here, so you lean against the house and look at your phone again.

Harry hasn’t texted you again and you’re not sure why you thought he would - there wasn’t much to say on his behalf. In the back of your mind you’re entirely too aware that standing outside by yourself like a loner makes you look even more the part of girl-who-fucked-her-teacher but you can’t force yourself to be in there.

“Hey.”

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by a voice from next to you, and you look up to see the boy from your creative writing class, leaning on the wall beside you. His friend has gone, probably back inside, and the girl sitting on the ground looks completely gone now. It’s just you and him, this guy you’ve hardly spoken to ever, but you turn to face him anyway.

“Hey,” you say, voice coming out in a soft puff of air, white in the nighttime air. “S’Jacob, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Jacob nods, blonde hair flopping in front of his eyes, and it reminds you, in some sort of way, of the uncontrollable nature of Harry’s hair. “Aren’t you in my writing class or something?”

You nod, brushing your hair out of your face and glancing down at the cup in your hand. It’s still as full as when you got it, even with all the pretend sips you’d been taking. “Yeah, I am.”

Jacob’s head falls back against the house and says, “Knew I recognized a pretty face like yours.” You exhale, rolling your eyes, and he furrows his eyebrows. “What? M’serious. I’ve always thought you were quite cute.”

“Thanks, I suppose.” You look up at him with an amused smile. “You’re - um. You’re cute too,” which isn’t exactly a lie. He’s not horrible but perhaps being with Harry has skewed your perception of all guys in your year - they’ll never be as lovely as him.

“Well, thank you,” Jacob replies, and you’re not sure what to say now - just lift your drink to your mouth and pretend to take a drink of it. It seems like in the blink of an eye he’s moved closer to you - standing half beside you and half in front, and you pull your cup closer to your body. He’s barely half a foot away from you and his face is even closer, and he smells like cheap beer and mint gum.

You drop your head back against the wall, raising your eyebrows. “What’re you doing?” you ask, confusion and yet complete understanding dripping from your words.

Jacob shrugs, leaning in until his lips are entirely too close to your ear and you can feel his breath, warm against your skin and you can smell him even stronger, now. “Just relax, alright? S’okay.”

You can’t relax though, and all you can think about is how different and terrible this is compared to how amazing Harry makes you feel, and you shake your head vehemently. “Jacob, I’m sorry, alright? You’re really nice and all, but -”

“D’you have a boyfriend?” Jacob asks, then, pulling himself away from you.

“Not really,” you tell him, which is the truth. You and Harry aren’t - technically dating but you still couldn’t hook up with this frat boy if you tried. You’re as good as dating him and the thought of doing it to him makes you sick to your stomach. “But I’m just not interested.”

There’s a pause, then. Jacob takes a step back, looking at you with his brows furrowed and his face looking oddly flushed. There are goosebumps covering your skin and you suddenly want to go back inside but then he’s talking again - “I think I know what this is about.”

You must wear the confusion you’re feeling, because he continues. “Can you be honest with me? Like, really honest.”

You hadn’t thought he was too drunk before but he certainly is starting to seem just a bit drunker than you’d anticipated. You furrow your eyebrows, lips upturning. “Sure.”

Then Jacob takes another step forward so you’re just as close as you’d been before and leans in again, dropping his voice so low you can hardly hear it. “Is it true you’re boning Professor Styles?”

The words take a moment to sink in. Is it true … Professor Styles? And when they’re finally there, embedded inside of your brain, you exhale a shaky laugh. It’s all you can bring yourself to do, resting your head back against the house. “Are you serious?”

You look at him again and he nods, shrugging slightly.

“I’m not - I’m not boning Professor Styles.” The lie tastes bitter on your tongue but you force it to sound normal anyway. “And I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Jacob rolls his eyes until you can merely see a white stripe in them. You can feel yourself getting - angrier? Sadder? More annoyed? - by the moment. And you hate that some dumb frat boy can make you feel so horrible but he’s doing it now, even if he probably doesn’t realize it. He steps back again, running a hand through his floppy hair. “Alright, alright. So you’re not fucking your professor and you don’t have a boyfriend. What, exactly, is holding you back, then?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling heat soar to your cheeks even in the bitter chill of the night. “Can you give it a fucking rest, Jacob?”

He whistles and you’re pushing yourself off the wall, already beginning to slide open the door to go back inside when Jacob begins, “Don’t be such a bitch about it -”

There’s only a brief second of hesitation on your part - turning around and using the hand that isn’t clutching your cup and your phone you press it to his chest and push as hard as you can. The force of it sends your phone flying out of your hand and hurtling down to the deck and you watch it fall down with a moment of brief regret - you can hear the glass shattering and you know it’ll be a bitch to repair. And you drink splashes up, spilling onto your chest and your dress and it smells repulsive. But Jacob (who you suspect is drunker than you originally thought) stumbles away from you and it makes both things worth it.

You can feel tears beginning to sting your eyes as Jacob straightens up, and before he can say anything else you bend down, picking your phone off of the deck and racing back into the house. You slide the door shut behind you and you can feel it open only a second later but you’ve already gone, pushing your way through the crowd, looking for both the way out and someone with a phone that doesn’t have a screen smashed to bits.

Kaitlyn and Dylan are pressed against the wall and you hate to interrupt the way they’re kissing desperately, hands all over each other, but you reach out and tap her shoulder anyway. Because, truthfully, you don’t actually care that much.

You shout above the music that you need to borrow her phone and she doesn’t hesitate to fish it out of her bra, handing it over to you with an incredibly wide grin - her telltale drunk grin - and you grab it in your hand, your broken phone in your other, and open up the phone app.

You have his number memorized from spending so long studying it once he’d given it to you that it’s easy to type it into the keypad - when the line is ringing you realize it’s entirely too loud in the thick of the party so you turn and walk out the front door and onto the front steps, leaning against the railing.

The line clicks and you’ve never been so grateful for such a small noise. “Hello?” the voice on the other end says, raspy like it always is when he’s just woken up (and you hate to think that you’ve woken him from a nap) and you could cry at the sound of it.

“Harry.” you swallow, eyes darting back and forth to see if there’s anyone near you - but everyone seems to be inside, enjoying the party, and you just can’t. “Harry, hi.”

“Hey, baby,” he says, and his voice seems to brighten at the sound of yours. “What’s going on? Whose phone is this?”

“Um -” you bring your thumb up to your mouth, nibbling on your nail before dropping your hand back down to your thigh. “It’s a long story. Can you pick me up? I’m sorry, I just - um. I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be a pain. You don’t have to if you’re too tired because you sound like you just woke up but I really want to be with you right now.”

You look - standing outside of a party, fighting back tears that are burning in your eyes calling your professor, of all people - the exact type of girl who would fuck her professor, but oddly enough, you don’t really think you care anymore. All you want to do is to feel Harry’s arms wrapped around you, making you feel better, and you never should have come to this stupid party in the first place. It was a mistake.

“Are you alright?” Harry asks, and you can picture him getting out of bed already, tugging on a pair of joggers - the pink ones he wears all the time - and sliding on his sneakers. “Uh - where are you?”

That you’re not quite sure of. You glance around but you can’t make much out in the dark - there’s a sign at the end of the street and you squint to try and make it out. “Barry, I think. Avenue? I’m not sure. I think it says Barry, though.”

“Okay,” Harry says. “I know where you are, and I’m gonna be there in five minutes, alright? Just stay where you are.”

You breathe out a small okay, and then the line clicks and he’s gone, and you pull the phone away to stare at it for just a moment. Then you go and delete the call from Kaitlyn’s history - wouldn’t want her calling it on accident - and dart back inside. She’s still wrapped around Dylan but you give it to her anyway, watching her stuff the device back into her bra. And you take a moment to bid your friends goodbye - wrapping them in a hug even if you know they’d rather be making out with each other than hugging you - and you head back out the door, sitting down on the front steps and letting the door slam behind you.

Your phone sits beside you in all its broken glory. Your mind is reeling and you can’t think straight - all you want is to be with Harry, forget about the assholes who think (or know) that you’re sleeping with him. Because - well, you are, you suppose. But there’s so much more, stuff they’ll never know, stuff they can’t know.

Just as your teeth start chattering in the cold you can see a familiar car pull up in front of the house. You can see his figure in the drivers seat, a hood pulled up tight over his hair, and you jump up, grabbing your phone and bounding towards the car. You’ve never been so happy to see him in your life - opening the door and ducking into the passenger’s seat, dropping your shattered phone on the center console between you. The warmth of his car is nearly suffocating but you love it, prefer it so much over the cold that’s been so prevalent for so long.

“Hey,” Harry says, voice soft, as if he can tell you’ve had a shitty day. (Which he probably can, truthfully.) “What happened to your phone?”

“I dropped it,” you tell him, taking another glance down at the phone you’ve had for four years that could survive falls from your pockets, bed and accidentally getting stepped on by Dylan but couldn’t make it through a simple fall onto the deck of a frat house. Serves you right for going to the dumb party anyway. “Can I go to your apartment? Just really don’t want to be alone. I had - a really shitty day.”

He nods and then you’re gone, taking off down the street. “D’you want to tell me about it, then?”

You sigh, leaning back against the headrest. You take a moment to listen to the music, playing so silently you can hardly hear - but it’s Just The Way You Are, by Billy Joel, and it’s from your playlist. “Just - um. A lot of people, apparently, think we’re sleeping together and then I was talking to this - this guy named Jacob and he was being a dick about it because I wouldn’t fuck him and then - then I pushed him and I dropped my phone and it broke.” Your voice cracks and you can feel the tears that had been residing behind your eyes finally beginning to spill over, and you bring your wrist up to wipe the tear that had begun to streak down your cheek. “M’sorry. Seems silly, now.”

“It’s not silly.” Harry’s voice is firm and you look over at him, sniffling slightly. When you’ve stopped at a red light he turns towards you, bringing his thumb up to wipe away another tear that had trickled down to your nose. “I’m sorry. People can be dicks sometimes.”

You inhale shakily. “Yeah.” For a split second there’s silence and then you say, “I don’t even know why I went to a stupid party. I hate them and I hated this one too but -” you stop to think. “I wanted people to think I wasn’t the type of person to fuck my professor. Which is silly, I guess, because I am the type of person to fuck my professor.”

“Can you look at me?” he asks, and you do, making eye contact with him briefly before he looks back at the road. “S’all gonna be alright, you know that? Nobody is gonna know. No one’s gonna find out - they’re all just guessing now.”

“I feel like they know.” you sniffle again, blinking away more tears that had come to the surface of your eyes. “And I know they can’t but I feel like they do.”

Harry pulls into the parking lot behind his building, then, and you unbuckle your seatbelt with shaking hands and grab your phone from the center console, pushing yourself out of the car and into the air again. The two of you walk in silence to the doors and then he presses the button of the elevator to go up and looks at you again.

“Baby,” Harry says, and you nod slowly. “What do you want to do?”

You pause. “What do I want to do?”

Then he grabs your hand as the elevator opens and you step in together, pressing the button for the third floor. “I don’t want you to stress about getting caught,” he responds, voice dropping to hardly above a whisper. “We’re going to be okay, I promise. As long as we keep things off campus we’re fine.”

You nod, glancing down at your scuffed heels with a sniff. “I know.”

The elevator dings again and you step out of it, your hand still in his as he walks down the hall to his apartment. While he digs in his pocket for his key, you tell him, “If you’re asking me whether I want to stop this, the answer is no.”

Harry glances up at you, key in the door, with a raised eyebrow.

You continue, shaking your head. “I like you a lot, Harry. A lot. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before in my life and I don’t want stupid fucking frat boys to take you away from me.” The two of you step into his apartment and he flicks on the lights, leaning against the door as you continue. “Don’t think I’d ever forgive myself if the most amazing man in the entire world slipped between my fingers because I was afraid.”

You take a step towards him, and then he wraps his arms around you and it’s what you’d needed all bloody day, just to feel his hug. You burrow your head into his chest and he presses his lips to the top of your hair, his voice coming out muffled by your hair when he speaks again. “I’m afraid too, baby. But I like you a lot too. More than anyone I’ve ever known.” Then he grabs your cheeks, pulling your head away from his so he can stare you right in the eyes - you swear his are mesmerizing. “I think I love you, actually.”

Love.

He loves you.

The thought bounces around your brain and it’s all you can think of - Professor Styles, telling you he loves you in his apartment, his warm hands pressed to your cheeks. And you hadn’t been sure, until now, whether you did love him. You’d never exactly felt that sort of love for anyone before because none of your relationships had ever lasted too long. But hearing him and seeing him now is making your brain churn out a thousand thoughts per minute and the most apparent one is that you love him too.

So much.

So you exhale, a smile quirking your lips upwards, as you reach up to press your hands to his face, too. You can see him fighting back the urge to grin and you could cry again but you swallow the urge and breathe out, “I love you, too.”

And you lean up on your toes, pressing a kiss to his lips and barely hearing the way he mutters back, “I love you so much,” because you couldn’t pull your lips from his if you tried. His hands drop to your back, pressing against the small of it as he leads you farther into his apartment. Your lips never detach and it’s difficult not to trip over your own feet but eventually you’re being pushed onto a distinctly soft surface, and one glance to your right shows you that it’s not his bed but the couch in his living room.

“Sorry, Marie,” Harry says, and you push yourself onto your elbows as you watch Harry pick up Marie from her spot on top of the couch and deposit her to the floor. “Don’t want you to see this. Just shoo for a little while.”

You roll your eyes as Harry looks down at you, one leg propped on the couch and the other firm on the ground. “You’re ridiculous, professor,” you tell him, and he throws an arm over the back of the couch, lowering his body onto yours until you can push your head up and mesh your lips with his. His hand goes beneath your head as he lowers you back down onto the couch. “But I still love you.”

When Harry pulls away his cheeks are a light shade of pink and you feel quite honored to be the person to make him blush - your professor, so professional in front of the classroom and blushing like a schoolgirl above you. You bring your hand up to his hair, twisting your fingers in his curls to bring his head back down but he doesn’t go for your lips, instead lowering his mouth to your throat, pressing hickeys to the column of your neck.

“You smell like beer, y’know that?” Harry tells you, and you can feel the smile on his lips as he trails kisses down to your collarbone. His hand works at tugging the top of your dress down, reaching in to pull your tits out where they’re already practically spilling out of it.

“Spilled a bit on myself at the party,” you breathe as he lowers his mouth onto your nipple, his hand massaging your other breast. “Wasn’t good beer, though. Could tell it was cheap. I couldn’t drink more than a sip - fuck.”

Harry pulls back from your nipple and blows on it gently, the sensation sending shivers up your spine and you moan softly. Your hips buck up into his and he groans against your chest. “God, baby. I love your tits, did you know that? Could play with them all day.” As if to prove a point he leans down again, dragging his teeth against your nipple and reveling in the way you whine.

“I’d be fine with that,” you inform him, voice cracking in the middle of the sentence as his hand trails down your body to the bottom of your dress, pulling it up over the tops of your thighs. Then his fingers brush over the damp spot in your panties, pressing against your clit through the thin fabric. “Oh, god -”

“Does that feel good, baby?” he asks, voice soft and he already knows the answer, of course, but you drop your head back against the couch with a nod anyway. “Wanna hear your words.”

“Feels so good, p - professor,” you moan, feeling his digits finally dip beneath the hem of your panties, running over your folds without the lace barrier. “Please, Harry, need more …”

You’ve learned, by now, his affinity for hearing you tell him exactly what you want. So before you can hear his smug response of what do you need you swallow and tell him, “Want you to eat me out. Please, professor.”

He drops his head against your chest, moaning lowly, and you can feel his dick growing harder against your thigh. “Fuck. Okay.” He licks a line from your chest up to your collarbone and you wonder if he can taste the gross beer still tainting your skin but - if he does - he doesn’t show it. Acts like he’d just enjoyed the best feast of his life as he glances back up at you, eyes dark. His fingers hook in your panties, dragging them down your legs and dropping them, soaked in your arousal, onto the floor. “Gonna take you to my room, yeah?”

You nod eagerly as he stands above you, and you swing your legs over the edge of the couch, pushing yourself up, and you let Harry intertwine your fingers, leading you across his apartment to the door of his bedroom. When he’s shut the door (shooing Marie away again, who’d followed you in an attempt to enter his room) he tugs his hoodie over his head - his phone flies out of the pocket and lands on the carpet, his hoodie heading towards another corner. Then Harry collapses into the middle of his bed, lying on his back, glancing at you expectantly. His joggers slide ever so slightly down his hips and you watch their descent before flickering your eyes back to him.

You furrow your eyebrows. “Not gonna eat me out then, professor?”

Harry shakes his head. “Never sat on anyone’s face before, I reckon?”

No. Of course you haven’t. Your mouth drops open in a silent ‘o’ and you raise your eyebrows, shaking your head vehemently. He motions you to come over to him and you take a moment to kick off your heels, leaving them in a pile by the door before making your way over to the bed, standing beside him.

“I think you’ll like it,” Harry tells you, and wraps his fingers around your wrist in a loose hold, and you take the cue to mount the bed, kneeling beside him, and his fingers drum against your thigh. “You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. If you don’t, I’ll just do it the old fashioned way. No harm done.”

You nod, swallowing. Any question you have dies on your tongue because you trust him, you know, and you know he wouldn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable.

What’s the harm in trying?

“Alright, then.” He reaches behind him, stuffing a pillow beneath his head. His hand on your wrist drops to your hand, pressing your palms together, and you give him a small smile before adjusting yourself so your thighs are on either side of his head - it’s about as awkward as you’d anticipated, your dress still half covering your arse, and Harry reaches up to pull it up, letting it rest around your hips. His fingertips trail down your thighs - a silent don’t worry and appreciate it. Slowly you lower yourself down onto his mouth, and when you’ve completely settled - your hands resting on his bare abdomen as you lean forward slightly.

You expect to feel his tongue on you immediately but then he pauses, and when he talks you can feel his mouth moving against your cunt. “Siri! Shuffle y/n songs on Spotify!”

You almost roll your eyes when his phone, still on the floor from where it had landed earlier, begins playing Good Vibrations - of course, he can’t do anything without music - but before you can give some sort of snarky remark his tongue is darting up to your clit, flicking the bud gently, and you cry out almost louder than the music.

“Oh, shit, Harry!” you groan, fingertips digging into his stomach as his hands go to your bum, kneading the globes of your ass as his mouth practically attacks your pussy. It’s so much more intense than how it is usually - the Beach Boys in the background, your hips rocking slowly against his face, his soft groans against your core sending vibrations through your body.

Good vibrations, of course.

“Feels so fucking good,” you breathe, dragging your hands further down his stomach. His joggers - the pink ones - are tied loosely and your fingers wrap around the ties, tugging slightly as Harry pushes his tongue inside of you. You can see his dick - thick and looking painfully hard, even through the fabric. Your instinct is to grab his hair but it’s harder in this position so you tug, again, at the tie of his sweatpants until it comes completely undone.

He pauses, momentarily, perhaps wondering what you’re doing - and you don’t even quite know - but soon he resumes his relentless assault on your clit, lips wrapping around the nub and sucking. You cry out, your palm pressed to his stomach and trailing down to the hem of his sweatpants, and when your hand wraps firmly around Harry’s cock he practically yelps into your cunt.

“Jesus, fuck,” you can hear him, muttering against your heat as you pull his sweatpants down further until you can see his cock. Sure enough, he’s hard and heavy in your hand as you shimmy your body ever so slightly forward, causing him to hook his arms around your thighs to keep you close to his face. You crane your neck forward, pumping your hand up and down his cock as you lean forward, wrapping your lips around the tip of his dick, and he moans. It mixes oddly well with the tail end of Good Vibrations as it switches to Sugar Sugar.

The sound rolls through your body and you whimper, lowering your head onto his cock until his length is nearly completely down your throat - you’ve gotten better at fitting him in completely, and you breathe through your nose, counting 1 … 2 … 3 until you hit 10, and then you pull your mouth off of him.

Harry’s nose nudges your clit and your walls tighten around his tongue as he thrusts it in and out of your cunt - you’re so close and you can tell, and you lick up the vein on his cock. He grunts softly, fingernails digging into your ass, and when his tongue flicks over your clit again you cry out, throwing your head back and pumping his cock with your hand.

Your orgasm hits you like a wave and Harry laps up every drop that he can, smoothing his hands over your bum and thighs as you roll your hips against his mouth, riding yourself through his orgasm as you release your grasp on his cock, digging your nails into his stomach as you moan out.

When every reverberation of your orgasm still pulsing through you, you collapse onto his body - then you roll off of him, still feeling the throbbing in your clit as Harry pushes himself onto his elbows, glancing down at you.

“How was that?” he asks, sitting up fully, trailing his fingers up your arm. “First time facesitting. And 69ing, too - it’s a season of firsts.”

You grin lazily at him. “S’that a line from December, 1963?”

He nods, a smile painting his face.

“It was amazing. Of course. It’s always amazing - God, I love you so much,” you tell him, reaching your hand up to rest against his face, and he presses a soft kiss against your wrist. “But…”

“What?”

“I really want you to fuck me.”

Harry raises his eyebrows, and you feel your cheeks burn. His hand tugs at the end of your dress, bunched around your hips. “I really want to fuck you, too.” You sit up, raising your arms so he can pull your dress over your head - you’re left in merely your bra and you reach behind yourself, undoing the clasp and tossing it off the bed. When you’ve lied back down on the bed he takes a minute to stare down at you, and you feel a sudden instinct to cover yourself up - but then he merely says, “You’re so beautiful. I love you -” and he leans down to kiss you, his hands working at pulling his joggers down his legs - “so damn much.”

He takes a moment, dropping his pants to his ankles, to lower his head to your cunt again - tongue lapping briefly at your clit, smirking at the way you jump. Then he pulls his head back and you watch him, propped on your elbows, as he spits, and it lands on your clit and makes you squeal, your stomach flipping. God, you didn’t think you’d love that so much but you want him to do it again and again - something about it is so fucking hot. But he just brings his fingers to your folds, spreading his spit through your already slick pussy, flashing you another smug smirk before leaning back over you.

You loop your arms around his neck, feeling the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance. You’re so wet you’re practically dripping and there’s positively no barrier as he sheathes himself inside of you - you toss your head back with a moan. The first push inside of you is always the best and you take a moment to savor it as Harry grips your thigh, hooking your leg around his waist. And when he pulls out and thrusts back in he brushes that perfect spot inside of you, and you cry out.

Your heel presses into his arse, pushing his body further into yours. Your chests press together, his arm braced over your head as he groans lowly, eyes squeezed shut, and you bring your hand up to his face like he’s done so many times - “Look at me, profess - fuck!”

He does look at you, pupils wide and making his normally green eyes appear just about completely black. Harry’s hand presses to your clit, rubbing fast hard circles as his cock brushes against your g-spot with every thrust inside of you and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his head into your shoulder, hips rocking into his. You’re already embarrassingly close and with just the right brush against your clit you know you could be cumming already to the sound of I’m a Believer by the Monkees, and it would be heaven.

Like it always is.

Harry’s still muttering into your neck, teeth brushing against your skin as he sends wet, open mouthed kisses across your throat - “So tight, squeezing me so good. God, Iloveyousomuch -”

Your nails drag against his back, your hips pushing up to meet his thrusts, his fingers still working at your clit. You wrap your leg tighter around his waist, burying your head back into the covers with a loud cry and then you’re cumming, walls fluttering around him as his thrusts grew even more unrelentless. You’re not sure you’ve ever cum so fast in your life but you were already so close before you even started and he pulls his head up, slamming your lips together as you ride out your second orgasm with him.

“Think you - fuck - got one more in there for me?” His voice is a hiss through gritted teeth as he straightens up, fucking you harder than ever before on his knees, fingers still plucking at your clit. Your leg drops from around his waist and he grabs your calf, stretching your leg onto his shoulder, and the burn makes everything feel that much better. “Gonna cum again for your professor? I think you can.”

Your hand goes down to his wrist, fingers wrapping around him - it’s too much too fast you’ve just cum you can’t - but you know you can and he does too. And you can tell he’s close - the way he’s losing rhythm, his hips losing the steady pace he’d developed. You drop your hand to your chest, tweaking your nipple between your fingers.

“Fuck, Harry - m’gonna cum - God -” you can’t manage to get out any full sentences, mere fragments, your eyes never leaving Harry’s as you clench around you again. Your third orgasm is the most intense of all, feeling his fingers pinch your clit, his thrusts slowing so they hit every sweet spot inside of you, and you couldn’t have held back if you tried.

His neighbors must think you’re being murdered with the way you scream - the duvet firm in your grasp, your eyes rolling back into your head as you practically spasm beneath him. Harry’s movements slow to a jerky, staccato pace - you can feel him, cumming inside of you, and when you look at him his face is bright red, eyes squeezed shut and mouth open in a soft o.

“Fuck, fuck -” he breathes, hand on your clit dropping to the mattress, and your leg slides off of his shoulder and back onto the bed. You’re fucking exhausted as he pulls out, dropping onto the bed beside you, but not too tired to curl yourself into his arms, your face burning hot and your breathing laboured.

There’s a moment where nothing needs to be said. There’s nothing that you could say that could make this moment any better than it is so you hold your tongue, intent on merely falling asleep with him until he mumbles, “Baby?”

“Hmm?”

He pauses, and you open your eyes, turning your head to glance at him. His eyes are shut as well and you could almost fool yourself into thinking he’d never spoken at all until he finally says, “I love you so much.” You don’t have time to say it back before he’s continuing - “And I think you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met in my life.”

You can feel the beginnings of tears in your eyes - whether it’s the post-orgasm haze and exhaustion overtaking you or just pure love for the man beside you, you’re not sure. “Harry -”

“And, um.” His eyes are still shut and his brows are slightly furrowed as he speaks. “I know we’re kind of already dating but I want to make it official. So … would you like to be my girlfriend?” And then his eyes open, his head turning to look at you, to watch the smile that turns your lips upward.

You tug your bottom lip between your bottom teeth to try and suppress your grin but it doesn’t work - you could never stop yourself from feeling so fucking happy. And you bring your hand to his cheek, brushing a sweaty curl off his face, before breathing, “Of course.”

He leans in, then, kissing you sweetly and - for just a moment - you can forget about everything other than him. Forget about class on Monday, about the people who think you’re sleeping with him. And they’re right, for some of it - but not all. They’ll never really know what you have.

For a moment, all that exists is you and him, wrapped up in each other, bodies curled together and lips pressed gently. And even when the moment passes, and you bury your head into his shoulder, you can’t help but wait for the next to come.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #professor harry styles #definitely dont like this as much as the first part !!! sorry fellas #but i hope you all enjoy #also tried to include some pussy spitting..... for u anon #plot was a lot harder to come up with but i hope it flows and that u like it ok ok goodbye #enjoy #prof!harry

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tonesplash · 4 years ago

Text

Bikini Lunchtime Part 2 (18+)

pairing: edward cullen x reader

warnings: smut ;), vaginal fingering, slight choking but not really he just puts his hand on ur throat, uuuuh getting caught kinda, reader has a mom

a/n: maybe a part 3 bc ed boy did get cucked

read part one here

"You're speeding." Edward lifts his mouth from the space behind your ear to remind you, and then goes right back to drawing your attention away from the speedometer.

"This is aAh-" You lose your concentration when his tongue swaths hotly up your throat before flicking back into his mouth when it reaches your earlobe. You can feel his smile against your skin. "A lot coming from the guy who hates driving below the triple digits."

One of his heater-warmed hands comes down to knead your thigh as he continues in his effort to wrap the both of you around a tree. "There's just one more turn, (Y/n), I'm sure you can manage."

Yeah, that and like thirty-something trashcans you want to say, but then he's leaning in again, and without thinking, you clasp your non-dominant hand over his forehead to stop him long enough for you to concentrate. You weren't strong enough to hold him still, but Edward relents nonetheless and allows you to keep him in place as you do your best to park with one hand while he helpfully manages the parking brake.

"You better make this worth my time, Cullen." You smile in anticipation as your seatbelt whips back into its holder. "It's cold as hell today, and I don't feel like fronting for the electricity bill."

”If you feel cheated at the end of the day, I'll pay it for you.” Edward grins as he kisses your temple and sits back in his seat to disembark.

He's lucky your neighbors aren't nosy because he appears at your car door in a flash, already reaching to help you out with your school bag slung over his shoulder and food trash neatly tied off in the bag it came in. You turn off the engine and hop out to meet him on the sidewalk as you trail towards the front door. You take quick notice of the extra weight in the bag.

"Why won't you just let me trash my car the way I want to? I saw the fries from under my seat were also gone this morning." You squint suspiciously at him over your shoulder as you blindly attempt to unlock the door while simultaneously intimidating him.

”It was starting to smell like a compost bin.” Edward can only stand you fumbling with your keys for a few seconds before he just takes them from you and opens it himself. Once inside, he hangs your bag on the hook by the door while you slip off your shoes and shrug off your jacket in a vain attempt to make it upstairs before him.

”Well, I think your car smells like a Bath and Bodyworks, what do you think is worse?” You take the stairs two at a time while he effortlessly matches your pace, one hand on the small of your back to keep you from slipping.

”I’d say the health hazard. Without me, you'd definitely have roaches by now.” His dry laugh echoes from behind you and makes you giddy with anticipation. You playfully roll your eyes and shuck your shirt over your head as he opens your bedroom door. The way you eagerly shove and tug off your clothes down to your underwear is hardly a striptease, but it doesn't bother either of you as you scamper over to your underwear drawer to grab your new attire.

"Okay now you-" You hold the bundle of cloth under one arm as you grab his shoulders and guide him to sit on the end of your bed. "-stay right here, I'll be right back!"

His chuckle follows you out into the hall as you scamper over to your bathroom and shut the door behind you. Your foot misses the leg hole of the bottoms three whole times before you have to stop yourself and take a steadying breath to calmly step into them like a normal person.

Despite your clear excitement that he can no doubt smell in the air and read in your mind, you decide to tease him a bit as you approach the bedroom. You balance on one leg against the door, gripping the knob as you creep it open and stick your leg through the opening up to your knee.

"Is this doing anything for you?" You giggle and wiggle your toes in the general direction of the bed.

"Be careful, (Y/n), when you fall through that door you're gonna be very embarrassed." You can still hear the smile in his voice as you almost immediately prove his point by taking an awkward hop forward to balance and accidentally exposing your entire leg at once in your effort to stay upright.

"I'm trying to think of what my entrance song would be but I'm coming up blank. You're gonna have to fill it in yourself." When you peek through the door, you can see his eyes have a laser focus on your thigh.

"Cellophane." Edward replies without blinking.

Confused and a little offended, you shove the door open all at once.

"That is so rude! What exactly are you tryi-"

Without warning, Edward crowds you against your door, one hand already lifting your leg to curl around his hip while he covers your mouth with his own. His tongue sweeps from your bottom lip to the roof of your mouth, sucking your tongue and making you shiver between the cold wood of the door and the hard plane of his chest.

His opposite hand strokes down your side, trailing lightly around your breast and ribs until it comes down to cup you through your bottoms. You gasp and break the kiss to bow your head into his shoulder and watch but he won't let you, the hand at your hip leaving to cradle the side of your neck, thumb resting over your windpipe, holding you steady against his mouth while teases you through the nylon.

You arch your hips into his hand and lose yourself in his taste, careful of his teeth lest you prick yourself and have him swear off frenching until the end of time.

Edward releases the kiss with a wet smack, the trail of spit still connecting your lips sticking to your skin as he dives lower to worship your throat.

Pausing his ministrations, he adjusts his hold to be firmly under your ass, his tongue gliding up your sternum as he lifts you above him in one smooth motion. You squeal and cling to his shoulders as he smoothly carries you across the room and gently lays you out amongst your pillows.

Edward climbs to kneel over you, ravishing your mouth with his own, one knee between your legs to grind on as his fingers creep up your sides to tease your breasts, kneading at first, then extending each thumb to play with the bud of your nipples when they strain against your top. The kiss becomes sloppier, spittle trailing down your cheek as you both lose yourself in the sensations.

Your growing desperation overcomes you when he lightly pinches the tips of your breasts, pulling away to shove the thin fabric under your chest, exposing yourself to the open air and his wanton gaze.

“So impatient.” Edward huffs a small laugh, spreading his cool breath over your chest, further pebbling your nipples. He maintains eye contact as he trails slow, reverent kisses down and over your breasts until you can feel the presence of his lips just beyond the skin.

“For someone with super speed, you sure like to take your time.” You quip and arch yourself into him just as his tongue creeps out to flick against your nipple, eliciting a whimper before it grinds into the sensitive skin, pressing it flat before he snakes an arm under you to further prostrate your chest and sucking your teat into his mouth.

Your reaction is immediate and involuntary, a sharp gasp, spine arching to the nth degree, toes curling against his slacks until he releases you with a pop and pushes his leg harder into your slit, going back to sucking, licking, laving your bud against the cold slick of his tongue until it glistened between you.

You could hardly keep quiet now, moaning and squirming, tugging his hair as he switches sides, hoping, praying that no one would come home early to find you like this. Edward sweeps his tongue over your neglected breast, bathing it in his spittle and sucking until the buildup of sensitivity becomes too much and you have to shove him away before you cum on his thigh and embarrass yourself.

“I would've liked it, at least.” He smirks before leaning in for another kiss, and laying down next to you, your core disconnecting with a wet smack from the stain that had soaked through to his pants. Your face burns red and your pussy almost feels numb with neglect until his lips are on your throat again and his unused hand pushes past your bottoms, gathering your abundant slick.

He scoots closer to your side, his arm a stark white contrast against your skin with his hand shoved into your bottoms, knuckles straining against the fabric while he rubs your clit into a frenzy.

"Oh, fuck," you moan and toss your head against his shoulder, sensations overwhelming.

You feel dazed, unfocused, and you can't decide if you want to watch the near frantic movement of his arm or lose yourself in the dirty sounds and sensations and let your eyes glaze over. You think you can hear the front door open, but you're far too wrapped up in him to care.

Edward moans against your temple, empathetic to your pleasure as he switches tactics, two fingers slipping in, while his thumb continues stimulating your clit. It's a tight fit at first but the mild sting adds to your pleasure, and you raise a knee to give him a better angle. The fingers inside of you begin to curl, teasing that spot deep inside, and one of your hands immediately shoots down, death gripping the wrist working at you as you begin to throb.

"You're so wet, and warm." His words are breathless against your temple, straining to not groan full volume into your ear. You involuntarily clench around him.

"I can taste you in the air, and you're so sweet and soft, do you think I'll have time to taste you before anyone gets home, sweetness?" At the last word, he openly moans with you as his thumb rubs upwards, bypassing the hood of your clit while curling his fingers against the softest spot inside of you.

The effect is immediate, your cresting shout is hastily muffled by the palm of his unoccupied hand bracing over your open mouth, and you whimper when he doesn't stop grinding his fingers against that spongy spot on your inner wall, wringing as much cream as you can give onto his hand, even as whoever just came home pauses at the top of the stairs at the sound your blankets rustling when your leg jerks out with overstimulation. You reach out and hitch your knee upwards again to hold it still.

"Can you cum on my hand, darling? And not make a sound?" You sob against his palm. "I want to feel you cum on my hand again, but I can't do that if you're too loud, alright?"

The nod you give is shaky and stifled by the restriction of his hand, but he has mercy as his fingers start to curl again, and you both watch them writhe under your bikini bottoms in the low light of your covered window, as they disappear in your heat and come up again with the slickest of sounds.

When your thighs stop twitching and the overwhelming stings of overstimulation build into a pleasant hum, Edward pulls his hand out and pulls away to undress, before disappearing in a blink when your bedroom door dents the wall, revealing your very pissed off mother.

Later that night you'd argue whether the loud schlick of your cum on his hand or the ensuing slap of your thighs slamming shut with your ruined orgasm is what got you caught playing hooky on a autumn weekday alone in your bedroom in nothing but an askew bikini.

#edward x reader #edward cullen #twilight imagine #smut #reader insert #my stuff #twilight x reader #edward cullen imagine #edward cullen x reader

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years ago

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s.o.s, m | knj

pairing(s): namjoon x reader

summary: It's two in the morning and Kim Namjoon is at your doorstep, asking you to fuck. In a fuckbuddies way, because, as a wise man once said, "I may not know love, but I know snacks." Well, you do agree with this statement. Let's go with the flow!

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; smut (fem reader, slight D/s dynamics, blowjob, cowgirl); friends-with-benefits and feels through fucking (classic for me, haha, maybe I fell in love with him while writing it, oops)

happy birthday, Kim Namjoon <3 #happyRMday

now playing – pado by bibi

“Hey!”

“Shit, Namjoon, are you trying to break my door down at two in the morning or what? What’s with you? Why didn’t you just type in the lock?”

Kim Namjoon’s large frame and big brown eyes glanced at the silver-blue electronic number pad on your apartment door. “Oh. Right. I forgot you had that now.”

“I have it because you keep losing my key!”

He rubbed the back of his now blond head sheepishly. He must have dyed it recently because it had been dark brown last week. It was shorter than before, trimmed at the sides and longer at the top. Usually it was styled, but right now it was messy and puffy like he had been running across the city on those long legs of his or, more likely, windblown from riding his bicycle on his way here.

Namjoon didn’t drive. He said it was to maintain world peace.

“Do you wanna fuck?” he asked you breathlessly.

You looked down at your massive black sleep shirt that made you look like a lump of fabric, but, well, he picked today to pop the question and what were you gonna do? Say no?

You snapped back up, smacking your finger on your left wrist. “It’s two in the morning!”

“One forty-five, yeah,” Namjoon agreed, glancing at his brown leather-banded, white-faced watch. Simple and sleek. You noticed he had a few colorful string-woven bracelets on his wrists, likely handmade by someone in the various rural villages Namjoon liked to visit in his spare time. He dropped his arm and smiled brilliantly at you with those dimpled cheeks.

“I was thinking about you. You know, that habit you do when you run your hand through your hair and flick your wrist at the end, elegantly spreading your fingers out. Super sexy.”

You felt your ears heat. “Hahah… what?”

He scratched his head and stuck his hands in his loose black pants, draping his warm gray t-shirt over his wrists. Lowered his chin and flickered his eyes to you, awkward half-smile on those full lips.

Oh.

Shit.

“D… Don’t look at me like that,” you muttered, backing up and shifting your eyes. “You always do that.”

“Do what?” Namjoon chirped, stepping inside and out of his brown sandals.

“Give me those puppy eyes even though you’re built like a fucking tank.”

“I snore like one too.”

“Yeah, I know.”

But none of those things really mattered because your arm was snaking up, your other hand slapping the door closed, looking down until you couldn’t look down anymore, lifting your head to playful dark brown orbs and a dimpled smile, already leaning down, his scent of warm cotton and faint florals washing over you, and then his lips touched yours and it was over.

You could say no, you could, but you never really wanted to.

Namjoon wasn’t being rude showing up so late. After all, you had already told him it was one of your fantasies, a late-night rendezvous, a bit of unexpected expected fun. Namjoon was willing to help, a game of ping-pong between casual, sometimes lovers, both too busy and scatterbrained at this point in life to commit to anything, but that worked for you and for him, or at least that’s what you told him and what he told you, his large hands now encircling your back, fingertips pressed into the thin fabric, sighing into your mouth, rhythm of those long fingers dancing up, up, sinking into your hair, tangling himself in it, nibbling at your lower lip.

“I just love touching your hair,” that deep, deep voice whispered to your lips, eyes still closed, smirking as the tip of your tongue darted out, playing with him as he spoke. “And I like messing it up a little.”

“A little? You like messing it up a lot.”

Namjoon curled his fingers inward and pulled back, your head following automatically, grinning with you as he opened his eyes, devious even with the dimples.

“Okay, yeah, you’re right.”

It wasn’t fun if it wasn’t with him.

You raised your hand and spread your fingers out, slowly running your nails up and then down his chest, smirking back at him, your tongue peeking out between your teeth.

Namjoon once said to you, let’s just go with the flow, ride the wave.

He sucked in a breath right now and pulled you close, hands letting go of your hair as he captured your lips again, deep, ravenous kisses that took your breath away, such wonderful lips that loved to travel across your body and wander that wonderland, his hands already reaching for the hem of your shirt, bunching it up as he stumbled back into your apartment, dragging you with him, you riding the wave of his passion, dragging his shirt up with yours, tossing them aside, body to body, exploring lips on that warm skin and muscular chest.

Namjoon also said things like, I may not know love, but I know snacks, so, yeah, he was always poetic like that. Full of wisdom and weirdness, arguably the best combination one could have when struggling through this nonsensical world.

You pushed him down on the bed, kissing all that tan skin, running your nails down his shoulders, walking down his defined biceps finger by finger, digging in a little harder, pairing it with kisses and drawing stars on his pecs with your saliva, making him smile and flash those dimples.

“Like that?” you teased, drawing back a little so he could watch the mastery of your tongue at work.

“You know me,” Namjoon chuckled, the sound radiating from his chest to your mouth, sending ripples through your spine. “I like cute things with a little pinch.”

“Like those tiny beach crabs?”

Now he actually laughed, that throaty, booming laugh of his, nodding with affirmation.

You sometimes wondered when the waves would stop and roll out, sometimes wondered if the tide of Kim Namjoon would go low and leave you behind, but maybe it was the moon or something, cosmic threads that sent him rushing back to your beach, bright and sparkling, always catching the light and looking good from every angle.

“Fuck, I always forget you’re huge.”

“I am not huge. You are being dramatic.”

“Dramatically sucking your dick.”

You knew how to take his breath away, how to make him gasp and his hand fly to your head, groaning as he pushed you down, your throat closing around his rapidly swelling length, tongue all over in the small window you had to wetly caress every contour and vein, bobbing your head in time with his gentle nudges, waiting for you and your jaw to adjust before thrusting a little harder, a little rougher, choppy waves and lost breath. His scent filled your nose, his toned hips in your hands, digging your nails into that muscle, inhaling and drowning in the feeling, pressing him between tongue and roof of your mouth, feeling the head hitting your throat, so you tightened your muscles.

Namjoon moaned your name, brown orbs turning darker from dilated pupils.

It filled your ears and soaked into your chest, your heart pumping faster, beating harder, drawn to the sound like a sailor to a siren.

You took him deeper, pulsing around the head, sticking your tongue out a little to lap at his balls collected in your hands.

“A-Ah, fuck… You’re always so, so good… always making me think of you…”

You watched his eyes close, his hand gripping your hair, not unkind, simply adding a little bit of force, but you were in control of the pace, riding the wave, filling your mouth with his hardness over and over, closing your own eyes, small tears collecting at the corners, unable to breathe, but you already knew you were diving and you practiced for this, holding your breath and bobbing your head fast and tight, your fingernails clawing at his sides just the way he liked, a little neediness, a little desperation, maybe an act or maybe not, honestly hard to tell with how often you had blown him, so maybe it was part of you now, just like how sometimes you would be alone and smell his scent even though Namjoon wasn’t there at all, maybe real but probably an olfactory memory, strange that it would happen just like that, a wave of warm cotton and faint florals that you drank in small trickles right now, your mouth occupied with his thick length, listening to the sloppy, wet sound of his cock being swallowed over and over again by your suffocating mouth, saliva sliding over his balls and onto your chin.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, fuck!”

Pushing you down, forcing you to deep dive, swallowing on instinct, clamping your lips around his jerking cock with every gulp of gushing cum, the strong salty taste lingering in the back of your tongue as your throat was stuffed with the swollen head. Namjoon shuddered deeply, resonating pleasure that drifted down his torso and through your fingertips. You lapped up anything you missed, sucking it off and Namjoon hissed at the sensitivity, tugging at your hair sharply.

You hummed and retreated a little, breathing again, licking the underside of the tip, wiggling your tongue over the slit and around head, opening your eyes to Namjoon’s panting smile.

“You want me to punish you or what?”

Nah, you wanted to ride the wave, but this particular wave was pretty fucking big.

“Oooh, fuck…!”

Namjoon raised his arms and grabbed your pillows, thrusting his hips up into your pussy after you had lowered halfway. The condom wrapper flew off the bed, probably to be found in some random place in your room tomorrow morning.

A later you problem.

Hands on his chest, sinking down, gasping for breath at the forced stretch at his girth, but it was nicer that way, wet and getting wetter, spreading your knees and arching your back, your hair falling down your shoulders, rolling your body to smack down onto his crotch, fuck, so hard and so full, starting a rough, choppy rhythm because Namjoon was deliberately not letting you set up a reasonable pace and kept thrusting up a little too fast, a little too hard, hot moans tumbling out of your mouth, feeling the crashing pleasure try to overtake you, drawing your knees back in to feel all of him, your palms sliding up, grasping those strong shoulders, lowering your head to speak to those sultry brown orbs reflecting your open mouth and half-lidded gaze.

“Namjoon… please, oh, f-fuck… if you’re gonna be like this, j-just fuck me…!”

He grinned, dimples on display.

“Anything for you.”

Mayday, mayday, you needed to be saved from that teasing smile and those words.

His hands fitted to your shaking hips and held you up easily, lifting his hips up at a deep, hard pace, emphasis on strength and less on speed, the muscles of his arms tense and locked to keep you above him as he slammed his hard cock into your pussy.

“Ah, yes, yes, right there, Namjoon, yes…”

You could go deeper so you did, slapping your hips down too and making Namjoon grin under you. Shit, something about those round cheeks and bright smile while he was railing you practically to heaven was doing something to you, washing out your senses and giving you no time to think, squeezing him inside you and feeling him twitch back, something so sexy about how he could do that even while fucking you, and you saw him suck in a breath, witnessing your effect on him, his hold becoming tighter, his dark lashes lowering, hooded eyes and locking with your gaze.

Drowning in the pleasure with you.

“Come on, you want it, right?” he panted under you, voice so deep it felt like you were underwater, your skin vibrating with the seductiveness of his tone and the depth of his sound mixing with the harsh slaps of skin to skin, wet and wonderful. “Show me you want it, give it to me.”

You couldn’t say no, already tightening your core and smacking down on him harder before he could even finish speaking, the ecstasy shooting up your spine and pouring all over your scalp and mind, letting go, pitched cries and blissful moans, Namjoon moaning with you, your name on his lips and filling up your bedroom, clutching his shoulders and staring into his eyes, breathing in warm cotton and faint florals, cast away into a wild paradise.

You clenched around him and gasped, a powerful jolt rocking through you, surprised at the sudden squelch but then you felt the overwhelming rush barreling through you, sweeping you into pulsing pleasure, one of your hands losing grip and grabbing onto the pillow beside Namjoon’s head, his heavy breath and your exhaled name blowing over on your prickling skin, realizing you were accidentally closer than usual because your hand slipped, his hands tightly wrapped around your waist and slamming you down onto his crotch, groaning and tipping his head back, his eyes closing, Adam’s apple prominent against his flexed neck.

If possible, suddenly you could breathe even less.

Your pussy throbbed around his twitching cock, his orgasm spurting into the condom and your juices soaking his skin with each flinch of the aftermath, wave after wave crashing into you, your arms trembling to hold yourself up so you could absorb it all – him, the dwindling pleasure, the moment when his eyes opened, your name drifting out of those lips in a lustful haze.

“I should… go back to mine, huh…” he wheezed, chuckling slightly. “Otherwise, I’m going to snore too loud and you’re not going to be able to sleep…”

You slid down, closer, closer, seeing the mole underneath his lower lip with his rueful smile. His fingers were drawing circles on your hips.

“I bought earplugs.”

You silenced his laugh with a kiss.

masterpost

#namjoon x reader #bts smut #namjoon smut #namjoon x you #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x you

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oogaboogasphincter · 3 years ago

Text

Hotel, Motel, Holiday Inn (Ezra x f!reader)

Summary: Staying in a hotel on Puggart Bench while in between expeditions has given you and Ezra a lot of time to develop your relationship both emotionally and physically. On your last night before you depart for your next trip together, you decide to try out one of Ezra’s kinks. Your heartstrings aren’t the only things that will be getting tied up this evening.

Word Count: 6.8k+

Rating: E (explicit) 18+ ONLY! because this is like 80% smut

Warnings: mild allusion to a rocky relationship from this oneshot (both partners have made up and are now in an established relationship), smut, soft-ish bondage (f gets tied up), oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (obvi use protection irl please), dirty talk, swearing, a hand on a throat but no choking, one (1) instance of ✨spitting✨, questionable kink shaming??💀(a joke is made about daddy kinks), comma splice, atrocious metaphor and repetitive sentence structure galore. also no beta reader, and reader uses she/her pronouns and is afab.

Author’s Note: this is my first smut fic! i really appreciated all of the positive feedback that i got on my first fic (💚), so i thought i would do a smutty follow-up to it! if you haven’t read it and you’d like to, you can read it here. i tried my best to make this fic readable as a standalone oneshot though, so if you’d like to do that, that’s cool too! :) i think the only things new readers need to know are that Ezra’s nickname for the reader is Goose, and The Blue is a moon, like The Green, that Ezra, Cee and the reader traveled to in my last fic. also i reference the traffic light system a lot more in this fic than i have personally read in other fics, just because i feel like it’s a great way of checking in on your partner during sex. i know it might get a lil annoying after a while, but i think it’s important to keep it up. i also wanted to include it in my first fic bc even though i might not use it explicitly in my next fics, i want it to be understood that I think it’s super important to continue to check on your partner, etc. also i apologize if the smut isn’t “realistic”, as your writer is 100% a virgin skjfskdj💀 i don’t think that means that i don't know/can't learn how to write some smut though! however i would just keep that in mind💀, and i hope you enjoy it! :)🍀💜

p.s. i'd like to say thank you to @martinsmomo one more time for giving me the amazing request for my first fic! 💕

gif by @skyshipper

“Go to the bedroom, strip to your underwear and wait for me.”

The patch job of your relationship with Ezra on The Blue was a success. Spending an equal amount of time with him alone, alone with Cee and as a trio boosted your strength as a group. The awkward silences and argumentative expeditions around The Blue were no more, and were replaced with friendly banter and jovial hikes. You and Ezra had made up so much that you had started to express your affection for one another physically.

On every third day or so, Cee would go out on a trip alone, needing some time to herself. It wasn’t that she couldn’t stand the two of you - although you and Ezra occasionally found joy in pushing her buttons - but she enjoyed doing activities by herself. It made her feel like she was fortifying her transition from teenager to young adult. You and Ezra couldn’t have agreed more and supported her independent decisions.

And on every third day or so, her absence from the pod allowed your courage to physically engage with Ezra to grow. The two of you had kept it to a minimum, not wanting Cee to notice any blushing cheeks or sweaty foreheads or panting chests when she would return. The majority of your time was spent just cuddling in positions that were a little too sexually charged to be considered platonic: a leg wound around a waist here, a hand gripping an ass there. The heaviest moment you had had was during a makeout session.

While lying down in Ezra’s makeshift bed and mingling tastebuds, you had hiked one of your legs up and over his hips. Soon after, you felt the tip of his cock poke the underside of your thigh. He couldn’t have been harder. You dared to relieve some of his pent up arousal while still maintaining some semblance of innocence and released your grip on his hair, slid your hand down his broad chest and slipped it underneath your leg to get to his erection. You held it and ran your fingers over the tip of it, then along its length, hoping to get a good idea of what your pussy would have to take on at some later time. The moment Ezra felt the light weight of your hand, he moaned deeply into your mouth. He had then broken your kiss and warned, “Goose, in all seriousness, you should highly consider concluding your investigation unless you want to throw me into a pit of agonizing embarrassment.”

You teased, his clothed cock still in hand, “Ezra, I think we should stick to swallowing each other’s tongues and not speaking in them.”

He had hummed in delight and grinned at you, then sighed, “Okay then, in your plebeian lingo: if you don’t stop rubbing my cock, I’ll cum in my pants.”

You both erupted in laughter, and you had snaked your hands back up his body and entangled them in his hair, taking his tongue in your mouth once again.

After your departure from The Blue, your gang had decided to stop on Puggart Bench and decompress for a while. Cee wanted to hang out with her friends before they all went their separate ways in their new adult lives, Ezra wanted to repay the loan he had taken out for his prosthetic arm and you wanted a real bed to sleep in. Not a pilot’s chair, not a bundle of blankets on a metal floor, but a real bed. With a mattress, a comforter, a nice set of sheets, a plethora of blankets and pillows. A two bedroom suite in Puggart Bench’s most prestigious hotel was what the three of you had booked for two months before another orbiting moon made its way into the Bakhroma System for the three of you to explore. Your group had engaged in some nice, familial-like activities, nourishing your found family dynamic.

You and Ezra had also spent quite a bit of time getting to know each other physically. While Cee would spend the day with her friends, you and Ezra never left your bed. Well, technically Ezra left the bed when he would stand, pull you to the very edge of it and subsequently use his newfound balance to pound into you with abandon. Your body hadn’t left the sheets, even when you knelt on the floor and took Ezra down your throat; your back pushed against the side of the mattress with every one of his thrusts.

Fast forward to the present day, and it is the last day you are on Puggart Bench before you leave for The Indigo, the new moon in town. Cee is spending the night at her friend’s house, where she will be having one last sleepover with all of the girls she won’t have the chance to connect with for an undetermined period of time. You feel guilty for looking forward to her leaving because you can only imagine what your bedroom will see of you and Ezra tonight.

While he washed your hair after a particularly exertive romp, Ezra had hinted that he had a kink that he wanted to try out with you. Without a definite return date from The Indigo, he offered that the two of you try it before you left for the moon, his desires getting the best of him. He never elaborated on what the kink is, as the both of you got entranced with washing the rest of your bodies. You plan on bringing it up tonight in the hopes of coming to a decision of whether or not you two have the patience to wait to test it out or not.

The two of you are now putting on a facade of patience as Cee packs her things in her room. You sit in between Ezra’s legs on the couch, back to his torso, both of you reading a different book. The text fails to retain your attention, so you place a finger on the page you are on and fold it over. You shift your head against Ezra’s chest to look up at him, pupils dilating immediately as they take him in. Black thick-rimmed reading glasses grace his face, the only indication in his rugged appearance that he would be a bookworm. He glances down from his book to meet your eyes, smiling at you. He brings his right hand down, brushing the back of the dark grey metal against your cheek. You smile back at him, and a naughty thought pops into your brain.

With your free hand, you find Ezra’s cock in an instant and palm it through his pants. His mouth drops in blissful surprise, but he’s quick to sit up and yank your hand away from his now hard dick. He snaps out a whisper, “Patience, Goose,” and places a light kiss to your temple. He gets up and walks away, afraid that you would just try to place your hand right back where it was. He was also afraid that he wouldn’t have the strength to stop you the next time.

Suitcase clips clap from Cee’s bedroom, and moments later she walks into the living room. You look up at her from the back of the couch: still pouting that Ezra shooed you away, and he looks up at her too, standing behind the kitchen counter: hiding his erection. You both fight through your mutual embarrassment and smile at her, noticing her excitement. She beams at the two of you, suitcase in hand, and raises her shoulders, “Well, I’m going to go now.”

She starts to walk to the door and Ezra follows her, putting a hand on her shoulder, “Have a good time, Sparrow. We’ll swing by and scoop you up tomorrow afternoon.”

Cee smiles up at him, “Will do.”

Ezra retracts his hand and puts both in his pockets, “We hate to bar you from seeing your friends and leading a more stable life, but we really do find solace in your company on our travels. It keeps us grounded, as much as one can be on an orbiting moon.”

She turns so that she faces both of you, “No, that’s okay. I really enjoy being with you guys. You’re like a family that I got to pick.”

Tears threaten to run down your cheeks as you get up and rush over to her to give her a tight hug. She returns your embrace and Ezra follows shortly behind, encasing both of you in his arms. He draws giggles from his girls by placing a kiss on each of your heads, and after a moment of relishing in your found family, you all release one another. Cee says her final goodbyes, opens the door and closes it behind her, giving you and Ezra one last final smile of departure.

You feel ashamed by the amount of heat that floods your genitals as soon as you hear the lock of the door click closed. Ezra, ever sensitive to your every mood change, pulls you in close and presses his forehead to yours, “You know we have to wait, Goose.” You nod, all too familiar with your routine once Cee left. You would wait and listen for her to walk down the hallway to the elevators, press the down button, wait for the doors to open, walk inside the chamber once it arrived, wait for the doors to close and finally start to descend to the ground floor. You did so out of respect for her; you and Ezra would never be able to forgive yourselves if she were to, for example, forget something and come back to find the two of you in the middle of some heated relations.

Ezra’s fingers massage your shoulder blades as you anticipate the sound of the elevator opening, fully aware that he was not only dissipating any nerves you have but spurring your arousal on as well. He knows that thoughts of his fingers traveling elsewhere swarm your brain as he alternates the pressure his fingertips give you. With this knowledge, unbeknownst to you, he’s thinking about what his first order for you will be tonight. Would he introduce the kink that he alluded to the other day? Does he just want a night of repeating your default, mind-blowing agenda? How would you feel about reversing roles, and have you be his dominant and him your submissive?

The ping of the elevator down the hall snaps him out of his trance. You eagerly await the whir of the elevator going down, and seconds later your wish is granted. Ezra lets go of you and steps back, eyes raking up and down your body twice before telling you, “Go to the bedroom, strip to your underwear and wait for me.” Such straightforward instructions to come from such an elaborate man. Ezra doesn’t waste a second in giving you seductive orders the moment he hears the elevator descending, his hunger to devour you reaching unbearable levels. With your appetite consisting of the same ferocity, you follow his instructions and go to your bedroom. Plopping onto the bed and laying on your back, you kick your shoes off, shimmy out of your pants and slide your shirt up and over your head, tossing the items to the chair in the corner of the room where you and Ezra kept your clothes. You found it humorous that he, like you, implemented the “chair of discarded clothing” into his life.

Now in just your underwear and socks (Ezra had relayed to you that it is statistically easier to orgasm while wearing socks), you reach over into the nightstand and pull out a necktie. You had been rewarded with such powerful orgasms at the hands of Ezra - literally - that you often couldn’t hold in your cries no matter how hard you tried. The necktie’s usual resting place was in between your teeth, tied around your mouth in an effort to muffle yourself out of courtesy of your neighbors. Ezra’s mouth remained ungagged; the neighbors must’ve thought that he was trying out some new rigorous exercise regime with all of those heaves, grunts and... moans? What sort of move would cause his headboard to repeatedly knock on the wall?

You sit and rub your thumbs on the buttersoft navy silk of the tie, patiently awaiting Ezra’s entrance into the room and later your cunt. A few moments later he comes in and shuts and locks the door behind him, an emergency precaution to protect the eyes of Cee or any intruding employee. He comes over and takes a seat on the edge of the bed. You glide over to him like a magnet and figure out a part of his kink after taking a quick glance into his hands, seeing that he’s holding rope. Black rope, to be exact, of varying lengths. He notices your quizzical brow and asks, “Spill your thoughts, Goose.” You gingerly reach out and touch the rope with your index finger, your vision moving in loops as you trace the coils. You look up and meet his eyes, those warm, curious, assuring windows to his soul that you love ever so dearly. You question, “Do you like to be tied up or do you want to tie me up?”

He displays a faint smile, “I’d find great satisfaction in tying you up. However, I would be a liar if I claimed that the thought of you restraining me and having your way with me never joyfully crossed my mind.”

You sit there in silence, taking in his desires. You are most definitely up for this, you just approach every new romp with hesitation. You hadn’t been a virgin the first time you slept with Ezra, but no one had ever made you feel so good. So open, exposed, on display, in all the right ways. You had been set ablaze by his confident maneuvers, calmed ever so coolly by his doting ministrations. He had drowned you in his passionate love, and you had loved every single fucking second of it. It just got a bit overwhelming at times, which he would take notice of and promptly give you your time and space when you needed it.

The rope intimidates you. It was smooth to the touch on the pad of your finger, but you could already imagine the uncomfortable burns it could give you. The tightness and thickness of the coils add to the fantasy of being completely immovable, but it also plants doubts in your mind. You voice your concerns to Ezra, “I’d love for you to tie me up, but I don’t think I’d like to start with rope.”

He cups your cheek lovingly, “Always one step ahead of me, Goose,” and picks up an end of the necktie in your lap. He rubs it with you, “I don’t want to start with the rope on you, either. I want us to work up to it.” He pats your cheek and holds up the rope in his hands, “I mean, it does look a little scary, doesn’t it?” Your newfound ease lets itself out of your lungs with a giggle, mirrored by Ezra. He turns and puts the rope on the seat at the foot of your bed, and you climb into his lap as he turns back around and cover his mouth with yours. Falling back onto the bed, his arms wrap around you like a snake and constrict you to his body. You grind your pussy onto his clothed torso, desperate for some friction, your soft moans tumbling down his throat.

He has to pull you away from his mouth by the back of your neck, “Let me take my clothes off, sweet girl.” He gives you a chaste kiss before you roll off of him and let him stand to strip. As he gets naked, you remove your panties in a flash, and he quizzes you, “Color system?”

“Green for when I’m enjoying it, yellow for when I’m being pushed to my limits, red for when I’ve reached my limit and need you to stop.”

“Good girl. What’s our safe word?”

“Magpie.”

“Excellent. Are you ready?” he asks as he pulls his underwear down and repeats your earlier action of throwing the discarded clothes onto the chair in the corner.

You nod fervently, “Yes sir.”

He sighs as he walks over to the edge of the bed and kneels, “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, Goose, you don’t have to call me that. I feel fulfilled enough in my domination with the heavenly noises your precious body emits.”

You shrug, “It’s just natural. It’s a good girl formality, Ez. Aren’t I a good girl?”

He raises an eyebrow as he hooks his hands behind your knees and pulls your legs over the bed so you’re sitting on the edge, “I don’t think good girls let their neediness get the best of them and just fondle cocks out in the open.” You let out a devious laugh, noting his reference to your sneak attack on the couch, and he takes the necktie from you. Your fingers run through his hair for a moment before he gently takes your wrists, smiling up at you.

He reaches up to kiss you, and after your lips part he mumbles against them, “I’m just going to tie your hands together now, okay?”

You nod, “Okay.”

He gives you another wholehearted kiss before sitting back on his feet, beginning to tie your wrists to one another. You admit, although it’s incredibly arousing to watch his thick fingers twirl the smooth fabric into a knot, you grow a little bit anxious at the loss of movement. He can read it on your face after he finishes the knot, “I want you to lay back while I eat you out. I tied your hands in front of you so that you can pinch me if you want me to stop but can’t find your words.” You nod, appreciating the simplicity of his instructions.

“I need you to use your words now, Goose.”

“Okay,” you reiterate, “Safe word is magpie. I can pinch you if I can’t say it.”

He nods, “Good girl,” and eases you onto your back. As he’s moving down your body to your core, something dawns on you, “Wait a minute.”

Ezra pauses and looks up at you with a caring expression, “What?”

“How am I supposed to stay quiet with the tie on my wrists and not in my mouth?”

He answers simplistically with a smirk, “Don't.”

You laugh, “What about the neighbors?”

“Fuck them. They should be grateful that tonight they will be an audience to one of the most beautiful symphonies that has ever been composed. And I’m not stepping foot off of this planet until I’ve heard my good girl’s clear, unabashed screams.”

A rush of hot air leaves your mouth, enticing Ezra to come back up and push it back into you with his tongue. A moment of clashing teeth later, he retreats back down to your core and lightly knocks your legs apart. You shift your gaze downward to find him admiring your cunt, his left hand capturing his dick and pumping it a few times. He leans forward, presses a kiss to your inner thigh and then runs his sharp nose over the spot, up your leg, across your hip and back down to your wetness and inhales deeply. You can’t help but laugh at his display of rapture, his sniffing audible. He threatens you in disbelief, “My indulgence amuses you, Goose?”

You meet his eyes with yours, twinkling with mischief, “Yeah, kind of.”

He puts his tongue in his cheek and shakes his head, “Goose, you are being a bit of a brat.” He pushes your knees to your chest, his hands on the backs of your thighs, keeping them in place, “And you should know by now how much I love taming my little brat.”

You are very aware of how much he enjoys brat taming, hence your acting up. His tongue licks a wide stripe up your core and a gasp escapes your mouth. He moans into you, sending vibrations through your cunt and shivers up your spine. He buries his tongue in you, his lips fornicating with your southern set, his fingers gripping your soft flesh tightly. Your anticipation of this moment has made your cunt oversensitive, so every little tickle of Ezra’s facial hair, every small movement of his warm tongue, every faint nudge of his nose and chin against your vulva makes you moan loudly. The pattern that his tongue is following suddenly picks up speed and your body involuntarily adjusts to it. Your hips buck up into his mouth, your clit weeping to be drenched in his saliva. Your tied hands lower until your fingertips are able to find his hair and intertwine with the thick brunette strands. The stability that gripping onto his hair gives you makes you hyperaware of just how close you are to cumming already. You whimper, “Ezra, please.”

This tone of your voice has been permanently ingrained in his mind thanks to your daily fucks over the past couple months. If the tightening of your hamstrings isn’t a large enough hint to him that you are close, your breathlessness is a blatant clue. He releases you from his mouth, lines of spit keeping the two of you connected, “That’s my girl, come on.” His egging on is more than you need to be shoved into your orgasm. As his tongue returns to lap at your clit, your neck arches up and your eyes roll into the back of your head. A groan rips through your throat that drowns out his muffled moans, his mouth working you through your orgasm. Your sharp intakes of air start to stagger out as your heart begins to calm down, your cunt pulsing with aftershocks. Ezra reluctantly removes his mouth from you, wetting your inner thigh with a line of his spit and your slick before pressing a kiss to the same spot he kissed earlier. The blackness of his pupils overtakes his chocolatey irises when he catches your eyes, dopamine flooding his nervous system.

He presents his wrist, does some math on an imaginary watch and jokes, “That must’ve been a record, Goose.” You giggle and pull your hands up to your mouth, trying to hide your embarrassed smile. He reaches up and pulls your hands back down to tangle your fingers in his cowlicks, “But my desire to drink pools of your cum has not yet been satiated.”

You swear under your breath as he dips his head back in between your legs, your voice catching in your throat when his hot breath cascades over your folds. This time, instead of licking stripes and lapping, he opts to draw shapes and trace circles against you. It sounds stupid, but man does it feel fucking good. Before you lose all self control, you give his scalp a massage, the best one you can muster with conjoined hands, as a way of telling him I love you. Simultaneously, he switches his tongue’s clockwise motion to counterclockwise and hooks his hands around the tops of your thighs, pulling you deeper into his mouth so he can devour you even more thoroughly than he already was. You brush his hair off of his sweaty forehead with your knuckles, seeing that his eyes are closed and brows are furrowed in concentration. He’s been moaning this entire time into you, blissfully lost in the heaven that is your pussy, and as his tongue picks up its pace the vocal vibrations boost your toward your release. You beg of him, “Please don’t stop.”

He doesn’t stop. In fact, he heightens your arousal one step further than you thought possible. He notes your utter wetness and decides to fill your wanting hole by snaking his left hand down to your entrance and slipping two fingers inside you. A heated orgasm pumps through your every artery just like Ezra’s fingers are pumping in and out of your cunt, his tongue keeping a delicious pace. After your body is done convulsing with pleasure, he moves up it and stops in front of your face.

“Open.”

You are all too familiar with this command and obey. Ezra spits a combination of your cum and his saliva into your mouth. He presses a hand to the underside of your jaw and you close your mouth.

“Swallow.”

You do as he says while he keeps his hand against your neck, feeling his love concoction make its way down your throat. He groans and gives you a quick kiss before asking, “Color?” You smile and bring your hands up to scratch at his scruff, “Green. You?”

“Green.”

Pulling your body tight against his, he hauls the two of you to the middle of the bed. He sits up and back atop your hips, pulls your hands closer to him and begins to untie your wrists. Your eyes can’t help but fixate on his hard dick, standing erect in front of you, as he speaks, “Now Goose, once you’re untied I want you to get on all fours for me,” he notices your distraction, “and if you try to pull any shenanigans, there will be consequences.” You shift your gaze up to his eyes and you swear that there’s a deep sparkle in them that is daring you, begging you, to disobey him. He liked to punish you as much as you liked to be punished by him. So, once untied, you throw him a curveball and take his orders, flipping over and propping yourself up on your hands and knees. You look over your shoulder at him to see that his face is mangled in baffled confusion, making you laugh, “What?”

He mounts your ass and teases your entrance with his cock, “If you had attempted to grab what your eyes were drooling over, I would’ve spanked you.”

“But I didn’t.”

He leans over your back and places his hands on either side of yours, “I wanted to spank you.”

“I know. But I’m not a naughty girl.”

He raises his eyebrows and chuffs out disbelief, “Maybe if you continue to tell yourself that delusion, you can convince yourself that it’s true. But there’s no fooling me. I know my girl is infatuated with misbehaving in order to spite me,” he stuffs his cock inside your pussy, “Isn't that true?” He lifts his left hand to wrap his fingers around the arched column of your throat, forcing you to look up at him.

You dismantle his lie, “I don’t do it to spite you, I do it to delight you.”

He pulls his hips away from yours in order to prepare for a thrust and hums, “That’s one reason why I love you, Goose. You see right through me.”

The two of you groan in unison as he fucks forward and bottoms out inside you. As he establishes a steady pace, your quivering fingers find purchase on his wrist. Even though you had slept together a countless number of times in the past two months, his girthy penetration still overwhelmed you at first, and you benefitted from at least a few seconds of adjusting. He knew this and was why he untied you; his brutal rhythm coupled with the binding of the tie would be too much for you without a little warming up. While he’s stretching you out, he murmurs encouragements into your hair, “That’s it, just like that... You’re taking my cock so well... Good girl.”

After your muscles relax, he asks, “Color?”

“Couldn’t be greener. You?”

He grins at your response, “Green.”

He gives your cheek a kiss before proposing his next instruction, “Why don’t you be a good girl and lay down and put your arms behind your back?”

He pauses his thrusts as you lean forward and press your cheek against the sheets. You turn to ask him just how he wants you to move, and he reads your mind, “Touch the pits of your elbows.” You twist your forearms behind your back until they are pressed against each other and the tips of one hand’s fingers graze the opposite side’s elbow. He snakes the silky tie in between your spine and wrists, the fabric gliding easily over your sweaty skin. He ties your wrists together again, this time much looser than before. He color checks you when he finishes the knot. You wiggle your arms, the amount of resistance being just right, “Green.” He hums in enjoyment and runs his fingertips down the backs of your arms, sending a pleasant shudder through you.

Lining himself up, he places a steadying right hand on your lower back. The contrast of the cool metal of his prosthetic limb to the fire that barrels through you once he pushes himself back into your hole is divine. Both textures of his hands slip against your skin as they try to find a solid grip on your hips in order to allow him to begin pounding into you. Your whimpering spurs him on, and once he’s able to to lock you into place you both swear under your breath in anticipation. As he embarks on his ferocious rhythm, an orgasm takes you by surprise.

Well, not really by surprise, because Ezra has proven time and time again that he can coax you to cum at a moment’s notice.

Out of courteous instinct, you bury your face into the bed to muffle your cries of ecstasy. Ezra turns your face to the side and tuts, “Uh-uh, Goose, I need to hear you this time, remember?”

You can barely him him, let alone understand him, while an astronomical burst of white oxytocin smothers your poor body. Unable to gain control of your composure to stop yourself, you indulge Ezra and let your screams fill the bedroom. The numbness of your mind fades away, effects of your orgasm bringing feeling back to you: the hot tears that spot your bottom lashline, the sweet soreness that the tensing of your muscles left you, the sweat that gathers in the line of your spine, the aroused slick that coats your inner thighs.

You pant as Ezra unties you, “Good girl. Flip over and face me,” and he tenderly places your forearms to your sides.

You’re exhausted. You can most definitely take more of his loving, but you need him to do the work, “I can’t.”

He rolls you over onto your back, his muscular arms giving you the comfort you need to go on. A frantic, worried expression takes over his face, “You okay? Still green? I didn’t push you too far, did I? Was the tie too tight? Did I-”

You shut him up with a kiss. You reassure him, “Yes, still green. Just fucking tired.”

You both laugh, and he asks, “Do you want to stop?”

You shake your head no, “I’m not sure if the neighbors heard all of that scream. I think they need another one.”

Your dirty talk contorts his mouth into a grin of sly allure as he gets up off the bed, “I concur.” He opens a drawer of the nightstand and takes out another necktie, this one made of black wool. He gets back on the bed and says, “Let’s give them a musical to remember.”

You snicker as he pushes both of you farther up the bed, giving you more room to mess about in. He places the second tie next to the blue one and a hand on each of your ankles, “What this next position requires in flexibility it will pay for infinitely in pleasure for you and I both, okay, Goose?”

Your wariness is excited, “Okay?”

He pulls your legs together and picks up the blue tie. He wraps the fabric around both ankles, beginning to tie them together, but pauses and interjects, meeting your eyes, “You’re okay with me tying you here, right?”

You smile at his concern and mock, “Ezra, you could tie me any way you’d like and I’ll be more than happy.”

His nose crinkles in satisfaction and he resumes tying you up. After he’s done, he pushes your thighs to your chest, bending your knees so your feet are in the air. You can’t stop the laughter that erupts from you, “Ez, what in the Bakhroma System are you scheming?”

He gives you a wickedly teasing laugh back, “A fun time, Goose.”

He momentarily cups your face with his left hand, “If at any point it gets too much, for whatever reason, just say the word and I’ll stop everything.”

You take his hand and kiss his palm, “Okay.”

He smiles, boops your nose with his thumb and pulls your arms so that they rest in the pit of your upside down knees. He picks up the black tie and does a different knot on your arms than he had done previously. He puts the binding on them higher up, which makes you hold your legs up, keeping your cunt on display for him. The wool of the tie scratches where the silk had soothed you, but you savor the friction. Ezra wastes no time in entering you again, plunging his cock deep into your fluttering walls. You brace your forehead against your shins, panting wildly. With every thrust, he hits something deep and sensitive in you, but you know you could make the experience more intense for the both of you.

“Ez?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you look at me?” He angles himself so he can look around your legs and meet your eyes. As you are projected into the depths of his eyes, engulfed by the lust-blown ink of his pupils, enhanced by the dark coffee that surrounds them, an “I love you” slips out of your lips.

He compresses your body further by leaning down and capturing your mouth, “I love you too.”

When he pulls back and his hands find the backs of your thighs, he asks for a color check. You answer green, giving him permission to ravage you. He does just that, putting every ounce of his might behind his thrusts, eliciting growls of the same magnitude from you both. The gradual construction of an orgasm starts to warm your body, your moans getting louder and louder with each passing second. In an effort to put it off, you bite down hard on your lip. Ezra notices, running a thumb across your lipline, “Goose, please, allow me to be privy to your every stuttered breath.”

“Every gasp of delighted surprise.”

“Every involuntary whimper.”

“Every lustful yelp.”

“Every plea for me to keep going.”

“Every unhinged beg.”

“Every feral scream that only I can rouse out of those magnificent lungs. Indulge my deranged wish and let me hear it all, Goose.”

His words whisk you onto an expressive whirlwind of slow-building passion. You close your eyes and watch as your orgasm transforms from a cozy snuggle to a captivating explosion; behind your eyelids, amorous red transitions to a lustful magenta. It lightens to a flirtatious and giggly bubblegum, intensifying to a vibrating, barely-there pink. Then, all at once, buckets of slumberous evergreen, pure Ezra energy, submerge you into your release. Any bit of any other color is eradicated as he pours his soul onto yours. Descending from your chameleonic trance, you open your eyes to meet his. He can see that he has torn you apart in a most satiating way, which catapults him to his peak. He pulls out of you and pumps his cum onto the backside of your thighs, his heart collapsing with joy. He smears his stickiness across both of your hamstrings and then quickly gets to work to release you from his necktie binds. The bind that he has made of your heart to his, though, is infinitely knotted, forever unbreakable.

Your limbs untangle themselves and fall to the bed, every cell in your body pooped from the session. He asks for a final time, “Color?”

You sigh, “Green. You?”

He smiles, “Green.”

He brushes the now cum-stained ties to the side and pats your stomach, stamping a handprint of his seed, “I’ll be right back, Goose.” You nod once and he gets up and exits the room, leaving the door ajar.

You flip onto your stomach, your muscles yearning for a change of position after getting pummeled into the mattress. You bend your arms to lay in front of you, elbows sighing in relief for being contracted instead of stretched. You close your eyes and rest your head on his pillow for what seems like a millisecond, but when you open them back up Ezra has returned with two glasses of water, a washcloth and a juice box.

He folds the cloth into a triangle, dips a corner into a glass and then brings it behind you. The icy water feels good on your overheated skin as he wipes away his cum before it has the chance to dry. Once he cleans you off, he takes a seat on the edge of the bed next to your depleted frame. He sets the cloth down and picks up the other glass of water, “Drink this, sweetheart.” You prop yourself up on your forearms and gulp some much needed fluids down as Ezra holds the glass steady against your mouth. You hold up a weak hand when you’ve had your fill and he finishes off the drink. You never thought you would find sharing a drink like this with someone stomachable, let alone wildly attractive. But Ezra had changed you; you wanted to exchange cells, germs, bodily fluids with him, no matter how nasty it sounded when put into words.

Ezra trades the glass for the juice box and pops the straw into the opening, holding it up to your lips, “Drink some.” You curiously eye the juice box: apple flavored, the carton decorated in bright and childish cartoons. You tease him, “You know, when I said I might have a daddy kink, this is not what I meant.”

You both laugh, and he pokes after a moment, “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.”

As you take the straw into your mouth and drink, he places a hand on the back of your head and pets your hair, “That’s it, babygirl, do as Daddy says.” An air of laughter blows through your nose and you choke on the liquid as Ezra cackles. You drop the straw and cough, “Stop!”

He continues to laugh at you while you whine, “Why do I have to drink this anyways, can’t I just have water?”

He calms himself down and shakes his head, “No, I want to replenish your blood sugar. Otherwise you might feel faint, and not in a good way.” He shoots you a wink and you take another sip of the juice.

When you’re done, he puts the half-empty box back on the nightstand and lays on top of you. You joke, “You’re crushing me and you told me I have to pee right after.”

Since sleeping together, Ezra had realized how little knowledge of aftercare you had. He had advised you to go to the bathroom as soon as possible after the deed is done in order to avoid urinary tract infections, among other pains. He nuzzles into your shoulder and protests, “In a minute.”

Taking into account the history of his comment and your increasingly heavy eyelids, you rebut, “You know that never happens.” More often than not, when Ezra trapped you in a cage of cuddles directly afterward like this, the two of you would fall asleep and you would skip the trip to the bathroom. He grunts and moves his weight off of you, “Fine, but I’ll only let you go if I can carry you in there.” You barely have time to begin laughing before he’s swooping you up into his arms.

After you both use your respective time in the bathroom, you and Ezra dress in matching pajamas and climb into bed. Coddling you into his broad chest, his fingers dance on the back of your neck and your lower back. You turn your head up to face him and when he returns your gaze you reference the whole night, “Thank you.”

A smile crinkles his tired eyes, “The pleasure was all mine, Goose. Thank you for taking it all so well. Get some sleep, okay?”

“Only if you will too.”

“Sure thing, my love.”

He gives you a kiss before you retreat back into the sanctuary of his embrace. Right as you’re drifting off to sleep, he adds, “I would like to ravage you one more time, in the morning.”

Your smirk pulls at the fabric of his shirt, “Okay. But no daddy kink. We have to save some things to explore when we come back.”

He hums, pressing his cheek into the top of your head before the two of you succumb to the temptation of sleep, “As you wish.”

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