#and i think it went well when i did it one time last semester!

[that-was-anticlimactic]

friends!!! what is a writing skill you wish you learned in school? like... it could be something specific in grammar/grammar-related, maybe about how to revise, maybe you wish you learned about different/specific genres, maybe how to write setting... whatever it may be!!! i'm doing a thing on tuesdays and would LOVE y'all's opinions on what kind of stuff to find to add for them to choose!

[voltronthelostlion]

I 🫶🏻 big girl money

(my wallet hates me)

[wcters]

TEENAGER IN LOVE

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

word count: 2k+

summary: your relationship with lando through the teenage years

warnings/contents: mostly fluff, some angst

author’s note: i know lando moved to glastonbury later in his life but 🤫 i also wrote this in 2 hours instead of doing homework because i got excited and had an idea

     You and Lando had first met when you were teenagers. Him being a lanky teenage boy with puffy cheeks and curly hair, and you being a young girl with frizzy hair and a youthful look in your eyes. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone when you first started dating, it’s like you both were on the same wavelength.

You still remember the day you met him ━━ how could you not? You two went to the same school so you knew who each other was, and you had heard of him from people around the town talking about his karting career. Your parents were family friends with the Norris’s, and they never failed to talk about how proud they were of their children.

It was the start of school after the 2013 summer break. You had quite a small friend group in school so when you had classes with no one you were friends with, you tended to be quiet and focus on your school work. That resulted in you being forced to sit next to the rowdy kids. Why? You didn’t know. It’s not like it changed them, and it just bothered you. It was one of those times, and it was Lando who was put next to you. Him and his friend group tended to be the disruptive bunch. They weren’t bad people or bad at school, just got a little too loud at times and forgot to pay attention.

You were sat in the middle row of your math class. The seat next to you was empty at the start of class, but at the end it wasn’t. Lando and his friends got a little too loud and he was “punished” by being put next to you so he couldn’t talk with his friends. You looked at him when he made his way over, but that was it. He was cute ━━ you could admit it. And it didn’t hurt that someone cute was being put next to you, but you shook your feelings off and forced yourself to focus. At them end of class when you were grabbing your things, a hand poked your shoulder. You turned around and came face-to-face with the Norris boy. He looked a little nervous, fidgety and a small smile on his face. You tilted your head. “Hey ━━ I uh ━━ didn’t have enough time to finish some of the notes. Do you mind if I borrow some of yours?”

You were a little surprised, you didn’t think he cared that much about school. Most kids wouldn’t bother getting down a little bit you missed ━━ not even you ━━ but he did. You smiled and nodded. “Sure,” you told him as you grabbed the paper out of your binder and gave it to him, “just return it once you’re done?” He nodded. The next day in class, he walked over to you and gave the paper pack, and you figured he would go back to his friends because the seat want permanent, but he didn’t. He put his bag on the ground and sat in the seat next to you. He did that, every day, for the rest of the year.

You two got to know each other well. You learned more about his competitive karting career and his family, while you told him about your family and friends. Nothing ever happened between you two, you were just friends. You had a crush on him, but you convinced yourself it was your mind tricking you because it was your first friend that was a boy. He thought the same, but he didn’t not believe his, he just didn’t act on it.

It was summer break, a year after you met him, when you realized you did like him. You were chatting with your grandma at her house as you were helping her sting stuff around the house. She had asked about your school semesters and how it was. You rambled on and on, not realizing that you mostly takes about Lando. It wasn’t until you were putting one of the last boxes down for her that it finally hit. “You must really like that boy, no?��� You looked at her weird. “All you did was talk about him. You must like him.” It was when she said that that you had a moment of realization. After you finished helping her you went home to your mom and talked to her, confused on how to deal with this newfound information. She just laughed and gave you a hug, telling you that almost every teenage girl goes through this with someone in their life. That made you feel a bit better.

Your friendship turned into something more a couple weeks after that. The Norris family had invited your family to come watch one of Lando’s races at Buckmore Park. Your parents agreed as they wanted to catch up . . . You agreed because you wanted to see Lando. He did well, coming 5th place. You could tell he wasn’t happy about, but you were. You and your family met up with him at the end of the race. He wasn’t looking too happy, but when he saw you his face lit up. When you congratulated him he blushed. Your families talked for a bit ━━ mostly about how summer break was going ━━ and you were about to leave when Lando called out your name.

Your family continued to leave, saying they would meet up with you at the car with your mom winking at you. You blushed. At first there was some awkward silence, and then he asked “would you like to go on a date?” You were a bit shocked, not expecting it, and you were nervous. What did people do on dates anyway? You know adults went out to eat and drink but you were fifteen! You completely forgot that you had to answer his question, and he started sputtering out words saying that you didn’t have to, and he was sorry before you interrupted him with a “yes.” It was his turn to look surprise.

You went on a date the next week, both of you unknowingly doing the same thing and panicking to your parents beforehand. It went fine, a bit awkward ━━ obviously ━━ but you thought it was cute. You went out for icecream and walked around Bristol. Halfway through the date he slipped his hand into yours, and you accepted it, but didn’t dare to look him in the eye.

After that, you two were inseparable. You two were always together, and practically lived at each others houses. Sometimes ━━ for weeks on end ━━ your parents never saw you a lot because you were always at Lando’s house. His parents always updated yours on how you were, and they trusted you. During an interview for Drive to Survive, your parents swore during those times they only saw you in the morning and night, the rest of the time you were with Lando. This would switch between you staying at his and him staying at yours.

Though Lando wouldn’t admit it when he was a teenager, he would do anything for you. If you asked him to jump off a bridge, he wouldn’t even ask why, he’s just do it. There are so many pictures on your phone and Polaroids of him in “embarrassing” situations ━━ like one where he had a face mask on and his nails painted. You keep that one in the back of your phone case. He would let you braid his hair, practice makeup on him, help him with his skincare, and so many other things. This would always be in the secrecy of your room and when your families weren’t there because he dreaded the day his family saw him like that.

He had no idea that you had shown his sisters and parents almost every single one. They promised to keep it quiet, and they did. You also know they won’t tell him that they have some of those pictures on their phones. It’s a secret between you and them, a need to know thing.

Whenever you had sleepovers at his house, you would stay with his sisters because you weren’t allowed to be with him ━━ for good reason ━━ and because you loved his sisters. As you got older, you bonded more with them, helping them out with boy problems and girl problems, because everyone had those girls in high school who made your life a living hell. You broke down crying when you found out they were moving to Glastonbury. How would you survive without not being able to hug your boyfriend? How would you cope without the gossip sessions with his sisters? The talks about your life over helping Cisca with dinner and talking politics with Adam? Laughing at embarrassing moments of Lando with his brother?

Before that, you had put off getting your license. You walked or took buses to most places, and it saved you money. When you found out they were moving though, you made it your life’s mission it get your license and a car. You were on moving day, helping the family with setting things up and cleaning up the place. You still remember the dinner you had that night. It wasn’t fancy, just Chinese takeout on a table in the half put together living room, but it was one of the moments where you truly felt like family. It wasn’t that you hadn’t before, but it was the private ness of the situation that really hit your heart. You begged to stay over, not caring that it was a school night, but you couldn’t. You hugged everyone goodbye with teary eyes, kissing Lando, and promising to be back soon.

And you were. When you had that car, you spent an unbelievable amount of money on gas. You drove to his house almost every weekend. Sometimes he would come over to your house, but it was mostly you going over there out of convenience. If Lando wanted to go to yours, he’d probably have to pile all of his siblings in the car, while you didn’t have to do that. Besides driving to Glastonbury, your car was also used as a pick me up. Whenever something happened with his sisters, you’d be there in a heartbeat, telling them to get in ━━ telling Lando he can’t come with him grumbling something under his breath ━━ and you’d go and grab food. Whatever they needed, you were there ready to do it? Boy problems? Junk food and a sad playlist. School problems? Listening to them vent and giving them advice. Period problems? That depended on that they wanted. You even remember one time on March break Flo had an experience with a boy and you took her to a rage room . . . It was so fun, and you definitely did it again with Cisca.

While you were there for all the important events in Lando’s life, he was the same. He was there when your grandma died, and you swore he was one of the few things that kept you together. He was there when you graduated high school and got accepted into your dream school.

Your relationship stayed the same throughout his whole career, you to where you both were now, living in Monaco. You still acted like teenagers, jokingly fighting over little things and teasing each other. Your love baver wavered, it stayed the same for each other, maybe even became stronger. There were periods in your relationship like when he first started in Formula One and you moved to college that it was tricky, but you go through it. You always would.

As you sat on the sofa in your home and twirled the ring on your finger, you remembered the whole of your relationship and the future of it. You were broken out of your trance by a kiss on your head. You hummed, not turning to look at him. “She’s gone to bed. She’s been changed and given her bottle. You smiled and looked up at him, “thank you.” He kissed you on your lips, “of course. You ready to go to bed, Mrs. Norris?” You chuckled and got up, walking around to the couch to meet him in his arms.

“Always, Mr. Norris, always.”

[rkiveinmarvel]

plums and peaches* - bucky barnes des. pissing bucky off is one thing, making him fall is the same thing. notes. this is highkey inspired because of this: INSPO. fluffy! bucky barnes being emotionally constipated person he is, steve and sam knowing there's more depth, avengers living together

hello! i have risen, baby girl! this is just a fluffy story since thunderbolts* is around the corner and i finished my second semester with flying colors, i did not proofread on this one, i'm sorry but hey! it fun writing for my favorite congressman bucky barnes. also, the music opinion that characters made here is purely out of fiction! (don't hate me please, i listen to those artists too) this is for you, @vibraniumqueen, you saw the vision!

w.c: 1.5k

When James Buchanan Barnes moved into the Avengers compound, his adjustments didn’t come easy—From Tony Stark still wary of his presence, Peter Parker still doesn’t shut up about his metal arm, Sam being an ass to him, and then, there’s you. Something James doesn’t want to get close with, hold with, and even be a part with. He truly believes that he will just keep things casual, because everything you do pisses him off. 

You were arrogant, cocky, and proud. Everything that the 40s people don't have, so, him meeting you was everything he didn’t wish to do. However, along the line of working in missions and tasks, he finds you useful: You may be arrogant but insightful, cocky but you have something to boast about, and you might be proud because you do have something to be smart about—and that pissed him off more. Yeah, sure, Sam is an ass to him but you take the cake.

And yet cakes are sweet too.

His hate started a year ago, a year where Tony and Steve almost had the Avengers break-up. He saw you, ignoring every word that comes out in everyone’s mouth and just sketching on the table. At first, he thought maybe you were some kind of a secretary, taking tabs of everyone’s opinion. To which surprised Bucky when Steve asked for your opinion on the decision to keep him in the team, ah, so, you’re an Avenger as well.

James was welcomed softy by Wanda and Steve, guess they bond over the HYDRA’s footprints—next was Clint, Natasha, Sam, and so on, everybody was being kind and patient with him, well, except Stark which he understands—but what he doesn’t get was you.

“Buck. Stop glaring.” He couldn’t stop, no, he can, he just doesn’t want to. You, Sam, Steve, Bucky, and Maria are currently debating who got the best music of all times. It was a harmless teasing and debate. But Bucky, being a man of 40s, stands tough on his music taste.

Well, that same goes for you.

He was defending As The Time Goes By by Dooley Wilson—while you defend The Smiths, though yours is more on the joking side, the poor former Winter Soldier did not take it likely. As you catch his glares, you can’t help but tease him more.

“I’m just saying, look, whatever you guys have in the 40s that ain’t me.” You laughed. “Besides, the Smiths are much better than Dooley.” It was a joke, really. Steve chuckled and Bucky looked like someone stole his cookie. “Stop glaring, Barnes. I might think you like me if you don’t stop.” You smiled at him, at last he looked away. 

As he finally has one reason why you piss him off.

Another was when during a mission, you set off another course and ignored the protocols which pissed him and the team. Despite the other courses, the mission went well, so the team didn’t mind, well except Bucky. Once you, Bucky, Natasha, and Clint enter quinjet, he snapped.

“What were you thinking?” He grunted a little deep. He knew he was barely adjusting to the team but what you did almost jeopardized everything. “What?” You had asked, as you knew he’s getting fired up again. “What were you thinking breaking inside the control room alone, we have protocol. Clint was in the control room and you’re supposed to be with Natasha while I handle the information room.” Clint and Natasha just shared a glance as you nodded at Bucky’s words. Oh, damn, he hates your cocky attitude.

“What’s bothering your cyborg ass, it’s done. We got the thing, no one got hurt, boom and bam.” As you shrugged him off. “Also, next time you wanna say you like and care about me, take me to dinner first, I’ll appreciate it more.”

Clint and Natasha sniffle a laugh as you threw the capri-sun to Clint, Natasha, and Bucky—and yes, you intended to give him the Wild Cherry. 

This is like only the nth reason why you piss him off.

A month from now it’ll be a mission that requires engaging an intel in a ball. Well as far everyone is concerned, there would be a fake couple act—it was Bucky and Natasha with Sam and you. “Why do we need to go as a couple, we can just ask Wanda to hypnotise them and we’re done.” You said in the meeting room as Wanda nodded with the suggestion. “We need Wanda in South Korea with me and Dr. Cho.” said Vision, to which Wanda replied: “Yeah, me and Vis will explore Seoul too.”

“Buy me an album, please.” You chuckled. “Well, there’s that, we should have matching rings, Wilson. We got a month to prepare, so, please can I go?” You stood up.

“Ah, Buck, didn’t you say you’re going to the city—Think you can give Buck a ride?” Steve turned to you, Bucky considered leaving Steve in the line. But you shrugged it off and nodded: “Let’s go, pretty boy.” As you left the meeting room, Sam smirked as Bucky replied: “Not a fucking word.” Steve smiled and chuckled. “You two are acting like cat and mouse for a year now, might wanna try hanging out.” Bucky sighed and stood up as Natasha continued—”You two argue a lot, you two might be the next Pepper and Tony.” That left a chuckle in the team, as he just left the room.

In your car, he sat in the passenger seat as you drove in silence. 

For 1 Minute.

“Can we change the music?” He asked. 

“What do you mean, it’s The Smiths.”

“I know, that’s why I  want you to change it. I’m  not a fan.”

You scoffed and looked at him for a split second. “Excuse you, you’re in my car, Optimus Prime.”

“Such hospitality.”

“I know right, I might get an award.” Oh, you do know, how to piss him off.

At the city, Bucky got dropped off in a library-opening but before you could drive away, you asked what time he could be picked up. “I’ll be here until 1900, what time should I pick you up?” He hesitated; didn’t speak.

“Look, I’m tryna be nice here, because Steve said we fight too much and the upcoming mission needs you, Nat, me, and Sam workin’ together so, come on, cyborg.” You said truthfully, as he just nodded. “8PM? But can you sto—nevermind, I’ll wait for you here, 8PM.” 

“Okay, don’t drown in books.” You said as you drove away.

At exactly 8PM—he was there in the parking lot, as he entered the car, he just sighed. “Had fun reading, kiddo?” You had asked, chuckling, as he just grunted and looked away. “Shut it.” Truthfully, he did have a great time, but usually when he reads during times where Steve or Sam drives him—Steve buys him plums for memory and sometimes he does that himself. 

After beating the record of 1 minute silence—it stretched into 10 minutes until you finally spoke. “Can you reach me the bag from the back seat? The brown one?” As he got the bag and was about to hand it to you, you simply replied. “It’s yours.”

He side-eyed you as you spoke. “I know I’m an asshole but…I observe, Barnes.” As you turn the car, he opens the paper bag and there inside are his plums. “They help with memories, right?” You said casually and still eyes on the road but Bucky felt so warm in his cheeks, not that he admits it but the softness in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Thanks.” You glance at him with a soft smile as you return your eyes to the road. “Careful with the soft voice. You don’t want to fall in love with me.” You joked as you and him finally shared a soft laugh, but it was there. “Don’t worry. That won’t be a problem.”

The time for the mission finally came along and you and Sam are currently trying to act as a couple when in reality you and Sam are close knit. Your laughs and cringes are visible and heard in the safehouse. As the party is about to get close, you catch Bucky having a hard time doing his necktie. 

“Mr. Augustine, need some help?” You had asked in his made-up name to which he just chuckled. You got close and fixed his tie. “You okay?” He asked. You nodded as you smiled. “Yeah, it’s just weird–I mean, why do we have to pretend, we’re the Avengers–it’s a stupid get up, we could act like party helpers and keep it casual, and here we are–matching rings and wearing fancy clothes.” You smiled at him as you finished tying his tie.

In the brief moment, you two stared at each other. “I best get going, I don’t want Mr. Benson is waiting for me.” You chuckled also using Sam’s made-up name. “I’ll see you around.” He replied.

“Didn’t take you to bite back but…I’ll see you around, Mr. Augustine.” As you left, his phone rang—he answered it as Steve asked for updates and current situations, Bucky listened and heard everything but before the two hung up, another conversation would be present some other time.

“Got any more updates? Or you and The Smiths lover are arguing again?”

A chuckle left Bucky’s lips towards Steve’s question as he replies: “Actually, Steve…I have a problem.”

Yep, definitely, you take the cake.

⚘ masterlist 1 | 2 | 3 ₊˚⊹♡ taglist: @yesiamthatwierd, @bitchimasnake-sss, @cjand10, @reemoony, @vibraniumqueen

[leonalovesalot]

Freaky on camera III

Brother’sBestFriend!ArtDonaldson x Camgirl!Reader

18+ MinorsDNI

wc: 3.8k

.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._

Art didn't watch your live session on Friday, or the following Tuesday.

He couldn't.

He needed to force the image of your fingers penetrating your sopping pussy out of his mind. This was proving to be a challenge because every time he closed his eyes, that's all he saw.

This couldn't continue on like this because he was going back home on Wednesday, right after his last exam. Patrick cleared out the entire day and Art knew they'd hang out at his place. Patrick's house. Where you also lived, of course.

Usually when Art came home for a break, Patrick's parents would invite him over for dinner. Everyone sits around the table and shares anecdotes of their lives over the last few months. It was always a pleasant time for him.

The same thing was going to happen this time, except Art would be pressing down his raging boner. He knew that was a possibility and to take precaution, he was doing a "Y/N cleanse". No more tuning into your videos, no more jerking off to your memory. He couldn't just eliminate jerking off altogether because, well, he's not a robot! So he decided that every time his thoughts wandered to you while his hand was around his cock, he'd stop. This would force himself to think of someone else. Like, Kat Zimmerman - who was proving to be a somewhat satisfying substitute so far.

The days and nights went on this way and Art felt like a zombie. Unfeeling, exhausted, and dragging himself from one place to another with no emotion behind his eyes

He couldn't help but wonder if you noticed his absence. Did you miss him like you said you did? Or were you just saying that because you knew it's what he wanted to hear?

To Art's dismay, the dreaded Wednesday arrived and it was time to face his anxieties head on. He handed in his last exam and began his drive home. It was only a two hour journey and was usually enjoyable because he could roll down the windows and listen to his favourite songs. But this time? He didn't know what to listen to. Everyone was always singing about sex! And that's the one thing he was trying now to think of! He ended up clicking a random podcast which discussed the myths of menopause. No chance of getting a hard-on there.

Parking the car in his parent's driveway, he gets out and grabs his duffel bag and suitcase out of the backseat. Art's parents walk out of the front door and greet him with tight hugs and loud smooches on his cheek. He laughs shyly and his Dad takes his bags from him and carries them inside.

"How was your drive? I'm surprised, I thought it would take a little longer," Art's mom asks as she walks him up the driveway with her arm loosely around his waist.

"Yeah, there wasn't much traffic today. And I finished my exam early so," Art shrugs.

"Because it was easy or because you rushed it?" Art's dad chuckles as he walks into the house.

Art rolls his eyes, "the former."

Art's mom ruffles his hair, "my smart boy."

They all walk further into the house and Art plops down on the couch in the living room. His Dad drops his things off in his bedroom while his Mom brings him a glass of lemonade. Art takes it and mutters a 'thank you'.

His parents join him in the living room and they sit around asking him questions about how the semester went. Art missed his parents and he responded to each question with lengthy answers.

"Oh, speaking of tennis, Patrick is back from tour. They came by yesterday for dinner, actually." Art's Dad chimes in.

"Oh, really?" Art nods. Who was included in the 'they'?

"Yeah, his parents were pretty adamant that you go over to their's tonight too." Art's mom smiles. She always adored the boys' friendship. Patrick was the brother Art never had.

"I know, I told Patrick I'd be there at around like seven," Art takes a sip of his lemonade.

"Okay, I have a casserole dish his mother lent me a while ago. Remember to take it with you when you go." His Mom stands up and walks over to the kitchen to grab it.

Later that evening, Art stood in front of his bathroom mirror picking apart his appearance. He was never too self-conscious about his looks, but right now he was trying his best to appear… well, handsome. It wasn’t working—his curly blonde hair sprang in all directions, which was making him look boyish. He groans and runs his hands through his locks for the thousandth time only to give up. He wore a light salmon button up with jeans and sneakers. He felt like a middle-schooler dressing up for a first date.

Why was he thinking like this?

This was a dinner with Patrick and his family.

Not you, alone.

He was there for Patrick.

Not you.

He takes a deep breath, sprays on a couple spurts of perfume, and walks out of the house, casserole dish in hand.

Patrick's house was much bigger than Art's. It was just down the road, but the actual house sat far back from the street, down a long driveway. The entrance was gated and hidden by large bushes and trees, designed to spark curiosity in passersby about how luxuriously the family might be living—which was entirely intentional.

Art slipped in the smaller door next to the gate and walks up the driveway. He takes note of the two cars in the driveway. One for his Mom, one for his Dad. You and Patrick shared a car but he didn't see it in the driveway, or outside on the street. He hoped that maybe you weren't home but knew you probably just parked in the garage.

He walks up the porch stairs and is about to ring the doorbell, when the door flies open and Patrick jumps out to hug him. Art gasps in surprise.

"I'm gonna drop your mom's casserole dish, dude!"

"Fuck the casserole dish, I haven't seen you in months, Donaldson." Patrick had basically climbed into Art's arms, legs wrapped around his bottom and everything. They laughed and he eventually lets go and grabs the dish from Art.

"How've you been? How was the drive?" Patrick keeps an arm slung around Art's shoulder as he walks him into the kitchen, placing the dish on the counter.

"Good, yeah. I'm just kinda tired though." Art answers honestly while subtly surveying the house for any sight of you.

"Not too tired for a little," Patrick brings his index finger and thumb up to his puckered lips and blows a little air out, "I hope?"

Art smiles softly, "that goes without saying."

They catch up and Art found it surprisingly easy to talk to Patrick. He wasn't drowning in guilt like he thought he would. Every conversation with Patrick felt like no time had passed, which was a big help. He laughed for the first time in a long time and it felt so good. So fucking good. Something about the Zweig genes pulled him in like a magnet. He always felt right at home.

Patrick's mom calls out to tell the boys to come down for dinner. They walk into the dining room, pausing their conversation so Art can greet Patrick's parents. They exchange pleasantries and sit down to eat the dinner before it gets cold. Art noticed that there was still no sign of you, which filled him with relief and disappointment all at once.

Then, he hears soft footsteps descend down the stairs and Art closes his eyes knowing he got comfortable too soon.

"Y/N, your dinner is getting cold, come sit." Patrick's Dad looks past Art to you who was walking in behind him.

"Coming."

Art twitches at the sound of your voice. He didn't realize how much he missed it. He had heard it carry the dirtiest words and the thought of that makes him close his eyes praying that he thinks of something else.

Kat Zimmerman.

Kat Zimmerman.

Kat Zimm-

"Art, hey! How are you?" You walk to your spot at the dining table across from him but on the way there, you pat his shoulder. A cute and friendly gesture which catches him off guard.

His eyes follow you as you sit down and tuck your hair behind your ears. He realizes he hadn't responded to your question and clears his throat.

"Hey, yeah- uhm- good. I'm good." Art nods and stares down at the side salad and stuffs it in his mouth.

You don't bat an eye. Your greeting was just a formality, anyway. You turn your attention to the conversation your parents were having about the business trip they'd be taking soon. Meeting with a client in Toronto for a few days - nothing out of the ordinary.

Art continued shoving food in his mouth, trying to ignore you. Everything that he barely noticed before, was now more fascinating and inviting than ever. The way your hair fell so perfectly down to your shoulders; it looked so soft, he was itching to run his hands through it. Your eyes were so kind and full of interest in everyone around you. Your gaze seldom landed on him, which used to be normal—but now, it was infuriating. He had made you cum for fuck's sake! You said you wanted to taste him! And you sit there, eating, acting like nothing happened.

Art knew it was irrational because you didn't know it was him. But, still, you were a cam-girl. How were you being so normal about all this? Eating dinner with your family as if last night, you weren't fucking yourself for strangers on the internet.

He wanted to hint that he knew. He wanted you to figure it out. He wanted you to be scared. He didn't really know where this thought came from, suddenly. Maybe he just didn't want to be the only one at this dinner table who was facing this inner turmoil.

"- Oh, Art can help you with that," Art's ears perk up when he hears his name from Patrick's mouth. He pauses his face-stuffing and looks up with drops of salad dressing on the corner of his lips.

"Pardon?" Art asks. He swallows quickly and wipes his mouth with a napkin.

"Y/N was saying that she doesn't know where to find textbooks for her courses. Weren't you also struggling with that before?" Patrick nudges him.

Art looks to Patrick and then to you, finally.

You notice he was acting a little weird tonight. Usually he was talkative, but right now he was silent. Not that you cared all that much. The way he was looking at you was also a little out of the ordinary. Like there was something he wanted to say...?

"Oh, yeah." Art nods, "there's this website I use that has all of them. I can show you later."

You nod and your lips formed a soft smile (which he was familiar with because you had that same smile when he was telling you that you deserved to be spoiled - it wasn't the exact same though because, you were flushed from an orgasm that time, of course), "Oh, okay. Yes, please."

Oh my God, you were actually talking to him. Art feels the urge to stir the pot a little.

"Yeah, of course. It's a big help, I mean I use it all the time. My friend Dan showed it to me." Art studied your expression closely, craving a reaction. Maybe a subtle brow raise? Or a twitch of your lips.

He got nothing.

You just nodded and smiled politely at him.

Ugh.

The conversations continued on without needing Art's contribution.

He was getting comfortable now and began taking small glimpses at you any chance he got. The few times you caught him looking, you'd just divert your gaze away from him.

It made him wonder if he made you nervous. He wanted to.

When dinner comes to an end, you help your parents pick up the dishes. Art is about to assist you, but Patrick pulls him away for a smoke.

They walk into Patrick's backyard and sit by the pool. Patrick excitedly pulls a cigarette and lighter out of his pocket and puts it between his lips. He lights it and takes a puff.

Art just stares out at the pool- the water calming him.

"So, you get a girlfriend yet?" Patrick exhales and hands Art the cigarette.

Art takes it and also takes a puff, "if I had, you'd know."

Patrick chuckles, "I'm just surprised, man. I mean I get busy on tour too but going even a week without getting laid like - I'd go feral. I don't know how you do it."

Art snickers and gives the cigarette back to Patrick. He wasn't ecstatic about the topic but didn't want to avoid it, incase it raised suspicion.

"I don't think I have time for a girlfriend, though." Art was just trying to say anything at this point.

"Me neither. But- like- when was the last time you had a good fuck? Like really good?"

Art's smile fades slightly. It had been a while.

He shakes his head. Patrick takes the hint and drops the topic.

"Maybe, you're like Y/N," Patrick says after a few quiet seconds.

Art snaps his head in his direction, "what?"

Patrick shrugs, "she doesn't have a boyfriend and she seems pretty," he takes a long drag, "content."

Art wonders if that's really true—not the part about your love life, or lack thereof, but whether you were actually happy. He decides that the attention you get from all those strangers—all that validation—well, that’s enough to make anyone feel good, right?

Art tries his best to sound casual when he responds, "really? No boyfriend?"

Patrick nods, "yeah. I mean not that I know of." He laughs and coughs out, "Or, who knows? Maybe she bats for the same team."

Art knows that's not true.

It was almost midnight and Art and Patrick were all talked out. The pair reach the end of their shared cigarette and wipe their hands on themselves. The strong smell was still present, but they were too zen to care.

"You're staying the night, right?" Patrick asks as he begins walking towards the house.

"Am I?" Art follows after slowly, with heavy-lidded eyes.

"Yes, you have no choice," Patrick turns and shoots him a smile.

They make a beeline for Patrick's bedroom and flop onto his bed, turning on the TV right away. Putting on a rerun of American Dad, Patrick gets up to toss Art a pair of shorts and a t-shirt for him to sleep in.

"Thanks," Art mutters, staring at the TV.

"Uh huh," Patrick plops back down. He was already wearing shorts and takes off his shirt to get comfortable.

Art's eyes flicker to him and then back to the TV.

After a few minutes he gets up with a sigh and leaves his room to go change in the bathroom. On his walk, down the hall, he passes your room and stops in his tracks.

He wasn't thinking clearly. Feelings of anger—because of that great act you had put on at dinner—and confusion—because, well, you were definitely not just Patrick’s sister to him anymore—swirled inside him.

His hand is reaching up to knock on your door before his mind can stop him and push him away toward the bathroom.

Inside, you were laying on your bed, reading your first book of the summer with the music of your 'cigarettes after sex' vinyl filling the silence of the night. The window was wide open and the ceiling fan was on at the lowest setting. You wore loose pyjama shorts and an off-shoulder baby pink tee.

You flinch when you hear a knock. Your brows furrow and you get off your bed, confused. You thought everyone was asleep.

You reach the door and before you can open it, it pushes open on its own. You step back as Art comes into view. Art?

"Oh, hey. What's up?" You smile softly at him.

Art felt like this was the moment the past two-ish weeks of his life was leading up to. You stood before him in all your beauty; in all your shapeliness. He tried his best to keep his eyes away from your bare legs as he knew it would drive him over the edge. Your exposed shoulder was already making him feel hot. God, he was freaking out over your fucking shoulder? What an absolute loser.

"Art? Did you need something?" You tilt your head, wondering why he wasn't saying anything.

Art snaps out of his thoughts and clears his throat, "oh- yeah. I- uhm - you wanted me to show you where to get the textbooks?"

You nod in realization, "oh! Of course, come in." You turn and walk over to your desk and open your laptop. His lack of self control had his eyes wandering down your back, then your ass, and your legs. Oh my God.

He watches you open your laptop and nods to himself that it was probably what you used to film yourself. He looks around the room, it felt like he was on a film set. He was a total creep.

"Here," You swivel your laptop on the desk with a new tab open. He places his change of clothes down on your bed and walks towards the desk. He was so close to you now. You stood next to him- so calm- if only you knew.

Art types in the URL and shows you how to navigate the site. You leaned in closely, paying attention to the screen and nodding at every thing he was saying. He could smell you—could tell you’d taken a shower not too long ago, all soapy and clean.

But that strange mixture of emotions he was feeling began bubbling up again. A flip switches inside him and he decides to test the waters. He wanted to see how long you'd go putting on this innocent fucking act. It was sickening now. He didn't want to be the only one feeling like he was doing a bad deed. You should've been more shamefaced than him- you were the cam-girl after all!

"So, do you wanna make an account?" He turns to you and asks.

Your eyes flick up to him and you nod, "yes, please."

Art accidentally glances down at your lips and then back to the screen and clicks on the 'Sign up' button.

The website asks him to create a username, he feels a rush of adrenaline inside.

"What do you want your username to be?" Before you get the chance to respond, he adds, "it doesn't have to be your name. Could be anything—like, uh, SchoolSucks—"

You smile, amused.

"—uh, TeamJacob—"

You tilt your head and giggle softly.

"—or something more simple, like Roxy."

Your smile instantly drops. You're not stupid. Your mind flashes back to that dinner table conversation—when he mentioned his friend Dan. It sounded unnatural, and yes, your thoughts did jump to your most generous viewer. But you shrugged it off, thinking it was nothing. But this? This was too specific.

After a few seconds you hesitantly speak up, "I think just my name is fine."

He had you right where he wanted. "You sure? Come on, that's no fun," he sounded so fucking smug.

"I'm sure," your whole demeanour changed. You felt a knot in your stomach. You wanted him out.

He shrugs and types in your name and adds a '96' behind it. He smirked to himself feeling proud of that.

That pretty much confirmed your suspicion. You stared at the screen, taking shallow breaths, as you chewed up the inside of your lip.

He faces the laptop towards you, "password."

You bring your trembling hands to the keyboard and type in quickly. You knew he was watching, but him knowing your password was the last of your worries.

Art noticed the tremor in your hands which only made him feel more powerful.

When you finish typing, he takes the laptop again and clicks a few things to finish up your account. You didn't say anything, just stared down at your desk, wishing the floor would swallow you whole.

Art shuts the laptop making you flinch. He had his fun and was about to leave when you spoke up.

"You know," you say quietly, feeling small and weak—an unfamiliar feeling.

Art stops and turns back to look at you, "I know."

You felt your face getting hot, "how?"

Art chuckles and shakes his head, "doesn't matter."

You were shocked to your core. You knew him for years and he'd never once acted this way. It freaked you out. It was a contrast from his sweet and bright appearance. It made you nauseous.

"What do you want, then?" You wet your lips noticing how dry they'd gotten.

Art pauses and wonders. What did he want? He never even thought of that. He suddenly felt unprepared for this conversation. He didn't know what he wanted. Where could this go? All he knew was that he wanted you to be a part of his life. He didn't want to be an acquaintance anymore. He wanted to be more to you. And he'd take it in any form he could. Even if he had to blackmail it out of you.

But how? How would he keep you around? Maybe he could use this information to make you do things for him. Every time he comes home for the break, you could be there please him. Going an entire semester without getting his rocks off would be so fucking worth it, if he knew he could use you.

Fuck, when did he begin thinking like this? You weren't a toy. You were a person; a woman who deserved his respect. He couldn't whore you out for himself!

He decided on another, more tame, idea. It would be a placeholder, until he figured out what it is he really wanted.

"Split your earnings with me. Seventy-thirty." Art studies you closely, now shamelessly looking you up and down. He had the upper hand, after all.

Your eyes widen as you gasp out, "excuse me?"

"You should be thankful that I'm not demanding half," he bites back.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. What a pig. What a greedy pig. Your shock now accompanied by pure rage. Your throat felt tight and your eyes sting as they fill with hot tears.

"I'm not scared of you." You were basically shaking now.

Art stares back, not backing down at the sight of your tears. If anything, he was getting a little turned on.

"You should be, Y/N."

.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._

This is now the longest thing I've written.

Basically no smut but heavy on the plot because I. Love. Dialogue.

Thank you for reading!!

Tags <3: @won-every-lottery @improbablynotpoppy @challenger-fan-club @x0teric @theynothem @bigsattirn @coolgirlsyndrome

[azsazz]

All's Well That Ends Well

Hockey!Azriel x Figure Skater!Reader

Summary: Anon Req: our figure skater bby would totally wear azzies jersey over her pretty sparkly dress if he wanted her to 🥺

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1,044

Notes: Belongs to the Shut Out & Penance & Out of Order world

_________________________________________

Raucous clapping and cheering surround you.

Your chest heaves from exertion, but it’s a good feeling, one that goes all the way to your bones, one you know will linger for days. That’s okay, because you nailed your performance today. This competition is in the bag.

The smile you’d been forcing onto your face for the entirety of your routine turns into a real grin at the noise. You pull yourself from your ending stance, taking a quick skate around the rink one last time, waving to those in the stands. The energy in the arena is insane and you’re really feeling it, a splitting smile on your face that falters when you meet the familiar hazel gaze of Azriel.

He’s not supposed to be here.

The Velaris Bat’s have one of their most important games of the season tonight against the Springview Wolves, their rival team of almost four decades. You have no idea how the feud started and don’t care to know; something about a broken bone or a girlfriend being stolen, you have no idea and didn’t care to listen when Cassian tried explaining it to you one night at the local dive bar you’d run into a few of the players at. 

You’d turned right the fuck around when you saw them and pulled out your phone to text your friends to meet up with you somewhere else because you see enough of the hockey team whilst having to share one rink, but Azriel had caught you before you could dip outside and all but dragged you into the back alley for some precarious touching that you were not going to say no to.

You’ve been a little tense lately leading up to your competition. No one would have blamed you for what you did with the sexy hockey player.

Azriel looks proud. There’s a slight lift to the corner of his mouth, the most emotion he’ll show in public like this, even though he thrives off of the chaos of the arena when he plays. His hazel eyes sparkle as they track you, how you only have eyes for him as you skate closer, a frown on your face, no doubt wondering why the hell he’s here instead of warming up for his own game that’s set to start in a few minutes.

He couldn’t miss your performance, though. The one you’ve been raving about all semester. The one you were worried about all night a few nights ago when his head was buried between your legs. Not even that could keep you from thinking about your performance today, immediately after he’d drawn multiple orgasms from you, you went right back worrying.

Shifting on your skates, you fly toward the door. Ice sprays when you shift, stopping abruptly before passing through the door, ignoring your coach in favor of rushing over to where Azriel’s standing stock still.

“What are you doing here?” you exclaim, falling into his arms when he opens them. Your heart flutters at the feeling of his strong hands warm on your hips. He’s here, he’s really fucking here.

He’s dressed in his hockey gear, and it’s clear that instead of hitting the ice with his team he’s snuck to the finally finished rink to watch your routine. 

“Don’t worry about it, baby,” he whispers, and Azriel can’t help but pull you further into him. Can’t help but to dip down and capture you in a kiss so searing that it fully takes your breath away. It’s a little awkward, because of all of the padding he has on, but the both of you make it work. He adores the blush that stains your cheeks pink when you pull away, and it really is a shame he has his cup on right now, because his erection is pressing painfully against it. “Cass and Rhys are covering for me. I couldn’t miss this.”

“Really?” Tears fill your eyes. He’s proven himself to you, time after time, that he’s here for you, even though the both of you aren’t anything more than friends who like the feeling of each other’s fingers and tongues, hands, and intimate parts. “But your game, it’s important.” 

“I’ll make it before puck drop,” Azriel reassures, “If I leave, well, now actually. I just needed to see you. Wanted to give you this.” You hadn’t noticed the jersey hanging over his arm, but when Azriel holds it up, showing off the number eight and his last name to you. “I hate to cover up your dress because you look sexy as fuck,” he murmurs, drinking you in once again. The feeling of his hot gaze makes your knees weak. “But I’m a selfish man. I can’t have anyone else looking at you like this, baby. And I want to see my name on your back.”

Fuck, does he have a way with words.

“Okay,” you breathe, letting Azriel help you into the black and purple jersey. It drapes long over your body, the fabric swallowing you, but you don’t care because the look in Azriel’s eyes is pure fire. “How do I look?” You ask innocently, giving him a twirl and reveling in his agonized groan. 

“Tell me you’re mine tonight,” He asks gruffly, pulling you back into him by the fabric of the jersey. You move into him easily, wrapping your arms around his neck. Azriel’s breath is hot across your lips, and if you weren’t in the middle of a competition, you’d let him take you right now. “We’ll both have something to celebrate.” 

Your brows furrow in confusion and Azriel grins, tilting his head to the scoreboard behind you with your scores. You currently hold the top score for the competition, with only a few skaters left to go. Holy shit you’re in first place. 

You squeal, jumping up and down in his arms. Indeed, you’ll have something to celebrate tonight, when the Bat’s take home their win, and you with your own.

“Yes, Az. I’m yours,” you whisper, accepting his kiss. “Now, go beat the Wolves. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“You better be,” Azriel says with a wink and a teasing pinch to your ass. “I need my good luck charm there to help me win.”

_________________________________________

Hockey!AU Tag (will be tagged for any hockey fic, no matter paring):

@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @going-through-shit @crazylokonugget @lilah-asteria @girl-who-writes-stuff @moosemahboi @sherayuki @lyinginameadow @acourtofatboydreams @blackthorngirl @shadowsingercassia @evergreenlark @hannzoaks @bloodicka @whyshouldihaveanam3 @elle4404 @cherry-cin @quinzzelx @blackthorngirl @i-am-infinite @feerique

[bananayuyu]

Tell Me No {3}

Pairing: professor!Yunho x f reader

Genre: smut, dark academia vibes

Word count: 4.3k

Summary: The semester is finally coming to an end, and the chance is upon you now to have Professor Jeong in every way. You wonder, what will the future hold?

Warnings: smut, MDNI, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex

A/n: I hope y'all enjoy this last part <33

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Masterlist | Read it on ao3

"When are you coming home?"

Your Dad's voice is distant and distracted coming through the phone, as it always is. He hadn't called all semester, just texted every Friday at the same time to ask 'how is school?' You were sure his secretary had put it in his planner, probably even sent the texts herself. He never texted further; you weren't even sure if he read your responses. Which was fine. You always said the same thing. 'Fine'.

You'd just completed your last exam of finals week, day two of Professor Jeong's final, the short story portion. You didn't think you'd written something as unique or atmospheric as you had during your trial run at his house, but it was adequate, you were quite sure. And with good grades on your three papers, you were sure at least a passing grade was coming your way.

When you'd set the completed story on his desk, Professor Jeong's eyes sharply locked onto yours, before he went back to reading his book, trying to ignore you. You had walked in wearing the puffer jacket he'd given you a few days before, that last evening spent together before he told you no more, that you must focus on your finals ahead and not think of him at all. You wouldn't be able to do that. You'd forgotten to wear a jacket when you made your way to his place that day for the same reason; your mind too full of your lust for him to remember how frigidly cold it was. Making it through the week of exams with your focus elsewhere was an unbelievable challenge.

There was something about seeing you in his clothes that had his pants feeling tighter in an instant. Out in the world, no one knew that the oversized black coat was his, but he did, and in his own way it felt like he'd staked his claim, knowing that as you wore it you felt the same, that you belonged to him, that there was no one else in the world you'd rather steal a jacket from.

It made his heart skip, like he was a shy, nervous teenager. Mine, he thought. Another few hours and you'd no longer be his student. He'd let himself have you, in the way he'd wanted to all along. It was tortuous watching you walk out the door of his classroom, knowing he'd have to wait around to answer questions, clean up and lock his classroom for winter break, and check in with his fellow teacher Professor Song before meeting you.

When you walked into the hallway, you opened your phone to find a text from your Dad. It was Friday, and his text came through predictably as it always did, late in the afternoon. His name on your screen made you roll your eyes, but this time you decided to actually answer him. Maybe it would twist the knife in a little more to know you were actually doing quite well. 'Good, just finished my last final,' you typed. Then, to your absolute surprise, he called you.

"You pass them all?" he asked without greeting you, his voice distant and thin, the sounds of his office wafting through in the background.

"I don't know yet, the professors have a week before final grades are due," you said, trying to keep your voice down in the desolate hall, knowing multiple finals were still ongoing in classrooms surrounding you. The walls of this old building were thankfully thick and impenetrable, but it would be your worst nightmare to get in trouble for disrupting another class's exam.

"When are you coming home?"

"I don't know yet," you finally answered him, with a deep sigh. Why did he care? He hardly ever asked you anything about your plans.

"Well I'm going to be in Singapore for business until the twenty-second, I leave tomorrow. And the house was in desperate need of a new paint job, so whole place is going to be in complete chaos until the day I return. If the workers finish as fast as they say they will, we'll see," he says, pausing. "One minute, Mr. Kang," he calls, much louder. Then, to you again, "I wouldn't come until then, unless you want to hang out in the guest house with your cousin."

The thought makes your face crinkle. Your cousin Jake was everything one would expect of a kid who grew up filthy rich: a partier, shit-stirrer, and uncommitted to anything. He was living in your Dad's guest house now because his parents had finally cut him off, and you remember the day he moved in vividly, watching through the window as your Dad slapped him on the back and laughed jovially, the pair two peas in a pod.

You knew he would offer the stupid boy a place in his company soon. Yet another reason you were determined to avoid the same fate for yourself.

"I'll just stay here then," you answered.

"The dorms will be empty though, is it safe?" he asked, and you scoffed. He only pretended to care about your safety when he was trying to control your next move, and you wondered what it was this time that he would try to force upon you.

"I think I'll stay with a friend," you said, sighing.

"A friend? Who, Sana? Jihyo?" he asked, mentioning the only friends of yours he knew by name. You supposed he might think these two were your only friends here at college, and that was by design; they were the only girls you befriended who came from money like you did, and you knew he wouldn't approve of all of the other amazing people who'd graced your life, who'd helped you gain perspective and a better understanding of your place in the world. Your Dad didn't give a shit about that.

"No, it's a new friend I made this semester," you said.

"Don't you dare go stay with a boy, I can't have you getting pregnant and running to me to fix the situation," he chided. "If you come with me to Singapore you can see more of the business, meet a good friend of mine, it would be much better for you."

"I'm not going with you," you laughed, shaking your head at his continued attempts to pull you into his world. "I'm staying here, and I'll see you at Christmas."

With that final statement you hang up the phone, setting it on the bench beside you and sighing into your hands. You pull your knees up and curl into a ball, finally taking a moment. Finals were done. You had done it, you'd survived. You almost couldn't believe it, the last week passing with such exhaustion and your mind full of concrete, it seemed. It was like you'd worked your brain so hard it was turning to stone.

Now that it was all over, the fatigue was hitting you. You yawned, resting your head on your knees. You hadn't planned what you would do after your exam today, having been so focused on just getting yourself through it to think beyond. You feel yourself nearly drifting off, your eyeslids heavy. A quick nap couldn't hurt, you think. You'd seen other students doing this too, and were sure the bustle of students finally leaving their exams would wake you. You sat your bag on the bench beside you and laid your head on it, pulling Professor Jeong's jacket over you like a blanket.

When you wake, the hallway is as empty and silent as you'd left it, but somehow the building feels colder, and completely still. You feel a slight wet spot beneath your cheek, and much to your dismay realize you'd been drooling. Quickly you sit up and wipe at your face, before hearing the jangling of keys coming from down the hall. Two men exit the room by the front door, standing in hushed conversation in front of it. You look over your shoulder through the window behind, and see a line of students meandering towards the dorms and dining hall, others walking in the direction of the train station. The building is empty, you suddenly realize, and you'd completely slept through the end of exams. You snap your head back to the professors, watching them make for the front door to leave.

"Wait!" you call out, the pair turning their heads in unison. Now you see, one has rich black hair and those devilish eyes you love. The other is just as tall as Professor Jeong, but with lighter hair, and glasses.

"You alright?" the other man calls to you, stopping in his tracks.

"I fell asleep, I'm sorry," you call, grabbing for your bag, then realizing you need to put your jacket on first and setting it down again.

"You go ahead Mr. Song, I know the Dean's expecting you. I'll help her," Professor Jeong says to the other man, and in a moment the front door opens and closes, and you're alone in this huge hall with this perfect man, his long strides bringing him to you quickly.

"I thought I told you to just meet me at my house," he says as he nears you.

"I know, I just was so exhausted, I didn't mean to fall asleep for so long. All the exams are over, right?" you ask.

"Yes, I'm glad you called out to us, we were about to lock up the building for the winter."

Your eyes are wide with fear and shock when you look to him, making him chuckle. "It's okay, the Janitor is scheduled to come through tomorrow, so you wouldn't have starved to death." You playfully punch at his arm in shock, shaking your head. Your life here really did feel strange sometimes. You sighed and looked up at him, wishing you could kiss him now and leave all of this behind. But there was still a window, still all of campus to contend with.

"Listen, we have to go out the front door today so I can lock up, so you just head to the station and meet me at my place. Here's money for your ticket," he says, pulling out his wallet and setting it in your hand.

"I just wanna go with you," you say as you stand, starting to walk out with him.

"I know darling, me too," he sighs, pulling you against a corner of the hall by the front doors where there were no windows, and kissing you hard against the wall.

"Just another hour and we can be together in private," he sighs, moving his lips to your ear, your throat, your collar bone. You moan and push him off, shooting daggers with your eyes.

"Stop teasing me," you pout, but you're loving every minute of it, loving that he couldn't even make it out of this hallway without kissing and touching you.

Outside the wind is blowing, the grass on the lawns close to dead, the sky half covered in winter clouds. Without another glance in his direction you make for the train station, hoards of other students doing the same, suitcases and duffel bags in hand. You zip your jacket high up to your neck, pulling the hood over your ears to keep the freezing wind from bruising them. It hits you suddenly that you'll never be his student again, that you'll never be sat in his class daydreaming about the professor in front of you instead of actually listening to his words.

"One ticket to Forthsmith station please," you tell the man at the ticket booth, handing over your dollar.

It's a bit disappointing to know that cozy classroom will never be your classroom again. The making eyes at each other, the stolen glances and brief touches, the way it all felt so wrong and so right. Things would be so different going forward, there was no question.

But as much as you dreaded the change, there was relief in it too. You were pretty sure now things could escalate further, that he'd finally have you all the way. And maybe beyond college, if you were careful enough with him and he with you, you'd find a companion for the long journey called life.

"You heading home too?" Marcus's piercing voice cuts through your daydreaming, bringing you right back to the crowded, stuffy platform you're standing on.

"No, heading to a friend's house," you sigh softly, while he makes his way to stand right next to you, suitcase in hand.

"Were you able to finish your story?" he asks, turning to look at you, but you don't meet his gaze. As much as you'd stopped hating him, you were sort of thankful you wouldn't have to see him anymore, either. You were on different degree paths, only overlapping for this one class. It wasn't sad to think you wouldn't be hearing this voice ever again.

"Yeah, did you?" you ask sharply.

"Barely, just as prof said we were out of time," he says. You look to your right and finally spot your professor, who makes his way in your direction. "I'm sure it was good enough to pass, and if that asshole fails me I'll just have my dad take it up with the Dean."

You hear a soft chuckle behind you, and with a quick glance see the man he's just called an asshole, biting his lip to trying to stop smirking.

"I think he overheard you," you say to Marcus. His face shoots over his shoulder now too, and his eyes go wide at seeing Professor Jeong's face.

"Sir- I- I'm so sorry-"

"It's fine, I grade based on principal, not on how much I like my students," he sighs, shooting a quick look your way. You chuckle, knowing his distain for your classmate. It was one you shared, you supposed. Both glad to be done with him.

But more than anything, both glad to have time to yourselves.

You sit apart on the train, the car packed the whole way to his station, many students heading the full two-hour ride up north to the neighboring city they were from. Few get off at his station, and you're so happy for it, realizing how much the privacy and calm of his neighborhood mean to you. Campus was fun in it's own ways, and you appreciated being so close to so many things, but out just a ways in this tucked away street, you felt completely safe to just be you.

With him, you could just be. It had been that way since the first night, that night when you'd worried and fretted as you walked in his house, that night when your lust overcame you and sent you down a path that now stretched far ahead. The landscape of your love was filled with gorgeous forests and rainy days, with the softness of snow and the warmth of fire. You never wanted to leave this cozy nook, his arms around you, nose in your hair, body strong and warm beneath you.

As soon as you'd arrived, you'd both changed clothes, and for the first time you saw him in grey sweatpants and a baggy hoodie, looking cozier and softer than ever before. You borrowed a hoodie and a pair of shorts; they reached down to your shins, looking almost like pants. With a pair of thick long socks on too, you looked ridiculous, like a twelve year old boy in his dad's clothing. But it was comfortable, and that was what mattered. You laid down on his couch, cuddling in the warmth of the fire, sighing into each other.

"Semester's finally over," he says, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"I'm so nervous for my grades," you respond, sighing.

"You shouldn't be, I know you've worked very hard. Your short story was marvelous."

"You read it already?"

"While the other students were finishing theirs," he says, smiling into you.

"You liked it?" you ask.

"Of course I did, you're quite the little genius," he praises, making your body ache with need. "Do you wanna hear just how much I loved it?"

You giggle into his chest, knowing that he knows just what this does to you, how much it turns you on.

"Yes," you whisper, heat springing in your cheeks, your entire body flushing.

"You set the tone perfectly, you have a way with doing that. The first sentence immediately grabbed me, because it was exactly what I was expecting until the last word. And I had been expecting another gothic or horror story from you, because of your last two, but you went with fantasy instead. It shows me you have such range, you can manipulate words beautifully no matter where they're coming from, or where they're headed..."

His words are going straight to your cunt, your head fuzzy. How could you possibly so lucky to find someone who knew you so well? Who said all the right things, was sweet enough but rough enough too, was balanced and inspiring, setting you in the right direction. He was a mentor to you, not just the man you lusted after; he was keeping you on track, making sure you'd have the confidence you needed to finish your degree and go succeed in the real world.

"You're perfect," you mumble, completely relaxed.

"No, that's you," he says, kissing your forehead again, wrapping his hands all the way around you and pulling you directly on top of him, squeezing you tightly. You giggle at the sensation, lifting your head up to place a quick kiss on his plump lips, but soon it's more, soon your knees are pulled up on either side of him and your tongue is finding his, soon you've forgotten where and who you are, completely lost in him.

He sits up and lifts you, the kiss only breaking for a moment as he starts walking down the hall. He slowly pushes open a door you've never been inside, the hinges creaking slightly, and then he breaks the kiss again to turn on a lamp in the corner, finally illuminating the space. You look to your side to see his bed, his reading corner, the stack of books on his nightstand. You're finally in his room, finally seeing the space he spends every night, and you hope one day it's as familiar to you as it is to him, that you can call it your home, too.

He lays you down gently, holding you with tender care as he kisses you more, your mouths wrapped in a perfect dance, licking and biting in perfect rhythm; just weeks in and you already know everything, how to mold to him, how to be the perfect reflection of his every movement. It feels like angels are singing as he deepens the kiss, as he swipes his tongue over yours harshly, as he grabs onto your ass and leaves your skin red from the strength of it. He snakes his hands under the hoodie you're wearing and feels over your chest too, loving how you moan in his mouth at the slightest touch of your nipple, how they pebble instantly in his hands. His mouth moves to your neck as he reaches under your waist and almost devours you, letting your soft moans escape into the buzzing air of the room, letting them drift into his ears and make his cock hard.

Satisfied with how you're writhing beneath him, he finally sits back, tugging at the waist of your shorts to pull them down and off, then diving into the hot wet spot between your legs, lapping up the arousal already leaking from you. He makes quick work of you, already knowing how you like it, what makes your legs shake and your mouth hang open. He doesn't finger you though, knowing what's about to come and wanting you to wait for the shock of the feeling. He knows he's big, and has no idea what your experience is, but is sure the look on your face will be priceless when you finally feel him stretching you from within.

Your thighs are clenching around his head as he licks slow circles over your clit, and you're tipping over the edge so quickly, still unsure how he can do it so easily, how he's already figured you out. He comes up for air looking deliciously disheveled, and you reach out your arms, beckoning him to you. The taste of you on his lips is intoxicating, musky and heady and the tiniest bit sweet, and you're grasping at him underneath his hoodie, relishing the feeling of his skin, needing more of it. Soon you're pulling at it, and he relents his kissing to allow you to take it off, his muscular torso greeting you, pale skin almost yellow in the soft light of his room. He then pulls at your hoodie too, and soon you're in nothing but your socks, and he is too, and you can see his long cock is hard and flushed at the tip, making your mouth water with need.

You'd only ever felt it through his pants, and now feeling it in your hand is electrifying, how heavy and hot it is, how utterly perfect. He hisses at the feeling, your hand cold against him, sending shockwaves of pleasure through him, his pent up need finally showing itself. He'd lied to himself all semester, pretending he didn't think anything of you; it was wrong to lust after a student, of course it was, but it was something he couldn't help. He'd begun to think you'd never talk to him, that you didn't have even the slightest bit of interest back; after that first night in his office he'd been waiting to do this, to finally feel every part of you, to be locked together in this most perfect way.

He sinks into you slowly, holding the base of his shaft as he does, trying to be careful. He can see already, only halfway down, that you're having trouble taking him; your head falls back with your eyebrows knitted together, as if in pain. But you beg him to go on, to give you everything, and there's no way he can say no to that. With effort he finally sheaths himself, leaning down into you to just hold you, letting your cunt take its time adjusting. With soft kisses and praise he distracts you, and soon you're not feeling any pain, only the perfect sensation of being completely filled, his cock touching every part of you inside.

"Please move," you whisper, pulling on his hair and kissing him deeply, as he chuckles.

"Of course, angel," he smiles into you, slowly pulling out, and pushing back in even slower, dragging out the immense pleasure. You're both groaning messes, completely entranced by the feelings it's bringing, so intense, so sweet, so deep and sating. It's hard to believe you are here, experiencing this; you're coming around him so quickly, shaking and holding onto him as you moan, his arms around your waist again as you arch into him. Again he's reading you so easily, knowing exactly how to make you feel best, even though you've never done this together, before; it's a feeling you want to capture and bottle, so you can bathe in it whenever you need a reminder of just how wonderful life can be.

You quickly come again, slick gushing out of you with force, covering his sheets in wetness. His pace picks up in reaction, and soon his moans are growing too, his movements more erratic, until he's releasing inside you with a low 'fuck,' his warmth filling you. The sensation is delectable, another you wish to know over and over again. His body collapses on top of you and you wrap your arms and legs around him tightly, squeezing tight as you kiss and hold each other, the minutes passing by with ease.

This bed was now familiar to you. And the smell of his skin was, too.

"Can I ask you something?"

It's you who finally breaks the silence, running a hand through his hair.

"Hm?" he responds, lifting you both up to a sitting position, wrapped around each other still as you lean against his headboard.

"I can't go home until the 22nd," you start, "can- can I stay here with you?"

"Of course darling, I'd love that," he says, kissing your cheek. "I will be very busy with grading over the next week, so it might be quite boring for you."

"With your library, I could never be bored," you say, and a huge smile breaks out on his face, his bottom lip catching in his teeth a moment.

"God, you're wonderful," he sighs, tipping your face up to meet his, kissing you deeply.

"I wanna be with you," you say, breaking the kiss, looking into his eyes deeply, knowingly. You couldn't hold it in any longer; it was true, it was all that you could think of, and you needed him to know. It was serious for you, the feelings you were having. It was too early to call them what they were, but you were sure that four letter word described them perfectly.

"I wanna be with you too," he smiles, pulling you into a warm, caring hug. He's still inside you, your bodies still locked together. It was too perfect of a feeling to not savor to the bitter end. That was how he felt with you, in ever way; he wasn't sure how long you'd be there, but as long as you were in his life, he'd savor every minute.

{the end}

Taglist: @iamalily @atzri @marii1087 @dilfkimhjj @yunyuniverse @yourfavoritedeluluspot @wizorbit99 @yeottoks @ateezgurl @hanjiyunho

thank you for reading my work, my loves <33333

[heart4gyu]

wet dreamz pt.2 || jake x reader

[ part 1 here ]

note: it’s finally here !! i want to point out that jake is much softer (?) than i intended but i love him like this.. he’s my lover boy 🫂 anyway i rly hope you guys enjoy this because i had to scrap the original and start over omg it was a mess and work got in the way too TT but i definitely have some more jake coming soon that im so excited for !! leave ur thoughts & suggestions too plsss 🙏 [i haven’t proofread im so sleepyyyy bye]

after you sent jake that last text, inviting him over to your place, he didn’t respond. which was understandable considering jake never knew how to respond when you flirted with him, always blushing and stuttering out an awkward reply.

so as you got ready to meet up with some friends, putting on a small black dress and your favorite sparkly heels, you were surprised to hear a couple knocks at your door. even more surprised when you found jake standing there, holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

“jake, what are you doing here?” you asked, feeling yourself blush, the flowers throwing you off your game a bit. no guy had ever turned up with flowers for you, especially without occasion. it was sweet.

“you- you invited me,” he says, his pretty eyes holding eye contact better than he usually does. you’d never felt this nervousness for a guy before. but you’d guess he was doing no better considering the way he was trying so hard not to look down at your low cut dress and exposed thighs.

“oh yeah… you just didn’t respond so i thought- um… do you wanna come in?” you cut yourself off, stepping aside to make room for him. he nodded as he stepped inside, looking around.

“sorry i didn’t respond… i was kinda nervous. i mean not that i’ve never- you know i just- well i don’t know why i didn’t respond actually. and you look just really pretty right now- well you always look pretty but-” he went on, stumbling cutely before you interrupted him with a laugh.

“it’s okay jakey. i was gonna go out but we could just stay here if you’d like,” you offered to which he nodded, eagerly. so you led him to your bedroom where you noticed that he didn’t look around as much. and it was cute how nervous he really did look.

“these are for you,” he said, finally handing you the bouquet. and you smiled as you thanked him, putting them on your bedside table.

“they’re beautiful... why don’t you sit on my bed so i can go change into something more comfortable,” you said, and he obeyed right away. you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you entered your bathroom because, yes, you’ve had plenty of guys in your room but something about jake was different.

you felt shy for him and he wasn’t as easy for you to get as all the others. you’d talked with him for months. you got to know him the entire semester. as with all the other guys, you didn’t really have to put in all that much work before having them in your bed.

the moment jake heard the lock of the bathroom door, he let out a sigh he didn’t know he’d been holding in. he wasn’t completely inexperienced and he was never this nervous but he had been trying so hard to forget about his dream that it was hard to focus on anything else.

he looked around now, noting that your room was different than he’d pictured but still fit you so well. and it wasn’t just your pillows but the whole room smelled like you, he was engulfed in it and he loved it.

when you stepped back out in a small pajama set, he felt his heart skip a beat and a tightness in his stomach. and you loved the way he stared at you as you walked up to him. you stood right between his legs and looked down at him innocently.

“what are you thinking, jakey,” you said, placing your hands on his shoulders. he swallowed, dryly, as he looked up into your eyes. he felt like he couldn’t breathe and even though he desperately wanted to, he didn’t think to touch you yet.

“y/n… i really like you. but before anything happens, i wanna say that i don’t want this to be a one time thing,” he admitted, quietly, not breaking eye contact. you nodded, running a hand through his hair, making him close his eyes at your touch.

“trust me, i don’t want it to be one time either,” you said, your hand wrapping around to cup his cheek. he leaned in to your touch but shook his head after a second, looking up into your eyes more seriously this time.

“i mean, i want to take you on dates and i don’t want to see other people. i just wanna be yours… i want you to be just mine,” he said, his eyes nervously watching for your response. you nodded at him with a smile and he felt relieved.

“are you asking to be my boyfriend, sim jaeyun?” you asked, smiling so brightly his shoulders relaxed in response.

“yes i am, what do you say?” he said, a hopeful look in his eyes. you watched his hands messing with the material of his jeans as his leg anxiously bounced.

“hmm…” you started, reaching down to grab both of his hands in yours. he didn’t break eye contact even when you placed his hands on your hips. “i think it took you long enough.”

“is that a yes?” he asked, a smile on his lips as you placed a knee on either side of his thighs. you cupped his face, unable to keep the smile off of your own face.

“yes! now please kiss me already,” you said, more of a demand than a request. and he just smiled as you both leaned in.

your lips finally connecting after having waited for so long. and he was gone right away, you could tell with the way he sighed loudly as you tilted your head for a better angle.

the kiss was messy, probably from his lack of experience, but still heated and passionate from the very start. a desperate moan slipping from his lips when your tongue made its way into his mouth.

you bit at his bottom lip, making eye contact as you pulled it back. with your eyes now open you could see how his chest quickly rose and fell, and how he was begging for you with his eyes.

his hands that were frozen at your hips now moving around to squeeze at your ass. he lifted a hand up to leave a firm smack there, a satisfied smirk on his lips when you let out a small gasp.

“sit back there,” you said, standing up from his lap and pointing to your headboard with your chin. he obeyed quickly as you rummaged through your bedside table for a condom.

he watched you search for a while before, “i- i brought some,” he said, lifting his hips off the bed to take the row of condoms out of his front pocket. a blush dusting his cheeks at his words.

“oh! well i’m glad you came prepared… i was just gonna let you hit it raw,” you said, playfully, crawling back over to him. and he didn’t know how but he just got even harder in his jeans.

you sat back on your knees as you took off your shirt and then bottoms revealing a pretty pink matching set. his mouth felt dry, he licked his lips as he stared down at you. you tilted your head, expectantly, when his eyes finally made their way back up to yours.

he let out a small ‘oh’ when he finally got the hint, taking his shirt off and reaching down to unbutton his pants. you let yourself take a moment and admire his build; his strong shoulders, defined abs, his sculpted thighs flexed as he lifted himself to get his jeans off.

you didn’t know how a shy, nerdy guy like him could be hiding such a build but all you knew was you hit the jackpot. even more so when he sat back against your pillows and his bulge became even more apparent through his underwear. your face heating up now as he watched you eating him up with your eyes.

you situated yourself back over his lap still not sitting down just yet. you leaned down taking his lips in yours and he took the chance to drag his hands along your waist and hips, playing with the lace of your panties.

you could kiss him forever, with his plush lips you really didn’t mind. he seemed to be growing a bit impatient though, pulling your hips down onto his abruptly, causing a moan to rip from your throat as you felt his bulge come into contact with your clothed heat.

he quickly took the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth, grinding up into you repeatedly. you through your head back, letting the soft moans fall from your lips wanting to encourage him more.

“please i’ll do anything you want me to, just tell me,” he said, pressing you flush down onto his cock and holding you there. you dropped your head down onto his shoulder, shaking your head.

“i just wanna ride you, right now,” you said, and he probably gulped but you couldn’t really focus on how cute that was with how huge he felt still pressed up against you.

so as you reached over to rip a condom from the strip he worked on taking both of your bottoms off. still being very gentle with you as he slid them down your legs, admiring every inch of your skin.

as for you, you were right: he was huge. you slid the condom onto his length and he hissed at the contact. once it was on and you lined yourself up, he stopped you one last time to press a kiss to your lips. a sweet kiss that you couldn’t help melt into.

he pressed a kiss on your cheek, down your neck, your shoulder, your chest, your bra, and one last one right above your belly button. he sat back and looked up to give you a satisfied smile, letting you know that you could continue.

you gave his cock a couple strokes and finally slipped his tip right past your lips, causing you both to moan out. he sat up almost immediately and you placed your hands on his shoulders for the extra support.

inch by inch, you took him in until finally you were sat on his lap again. you let out a deep breath and his eyes were squeezed shut as he tried his best to hold back. but all he could think about was how much better this felt than his dream.

“you’re so tight,” he moaned, resting his head onto your shoulder, still managing to place a gentle kiss there. he was holding back so much, he felt so desperate for you. “baby, could you please move a bit?”

the petname falling from his lips so effortlessly, you couldn’t help the moan that slipped out of your mouth as you started to rock yourself back and forth on him. his hands squeezed at the skin of your waist as you let out a breathy ‘yes’, putting his head back on the headboard.

when you finally started to bounce on his cock, he was a whining mess. you thought his moans were pretty, well the whines that left his throat were addictive. you wanted to do whatever you could to keep hearing them.

you lifted yourself all the way to the tip and dropped all the way back down as quick as your legs could take you, grinding onto him in all directions. and he was so perfectly responsive, just what you wanted to hear; the ‘don’t stop’s and ‘feels too good’s leaving him were too encouraging.

you couldn’t bring yourself to stop even as your thighs started to shake because you could feel his cock pulsing inside of you and you wanted to make him cum so badly. but it seemed he had the same idea.

suddenly he lifted your hips off of him, pulling out slowly, a groan falling from both of your lips. he gently laid you back down onto your pillows, not forgetting to place a gentle kiss right at the center of your chest. “… i didn’t get to make you cum,” you said, a bit disappointed.

“i know, pretty,” he said, kissing your pout away, “but i said i’d take care of you.” you felt yourself blush at his words, luckily he was preoccupied with lining himself up again.

“wait,” you said, pushing him back a bit by his chest. you reached down, slowly pulling the condom off of his length and tossing it to the side.

before he could speak again you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your legs also lifting up to engulf his waist, pulling him closer. his forehead resting on yours as he eyed you curiously, “i want you to come in me,” you said, quietly.

he squeezed his eyes shut, groaning. he kissed you, rougher than all the other kisses before. “you can’t say those kind of things to me, angel, i won’t be able to hold back.”

“please don’t hold back jakey, do whatever you dream of,” you said, your eyes begging. jake swears his heart stopped for a second. he just couldn’t believe it, this was so different from his dream but also so much better.

he took a deep breath, his hand shaking as he lined himself back up at your entrance. when he pushed all the way back in at once, he swore he was in heaven. nothing could compare to how he felt so deep in you right now, so warm and tight. was he having deja vu?

he shook his head, he didn’t have to be reminded of that dream anymore cause this? nothing could beat this.

he thrusted into you hard and fast, immediately setting a brutal pace. and you loved it, not being able to do anything other than scream and moan out his name. he wasn’t much better moaning and muttering praises at your ear.

you scratched at his back helplessly as his thrust somehow got harder, his release definitely building up again. you pulled at his hair, bringing his face in front of yours and smashing your lips together once again. the kiss more intimate in this position, despite both of you being moaning messes.

he reached a hand down to rub circles at your clit, your hand following after to help guide him. he quickly found the rhythm you wanted and matched his thrust to it. you couldn’t believe how good he was already, and couldn’t imagine how this could get any better.

he kissed and sucked at your neck, searching for the spot you liked best, already wanting to familiarize himself with every part of your body. you moaned out his name as you felt the coil in your stomach come undone. finally releasing around him as he continued chasing his own high.

he came soon after as he felt your walls clench around him so tightly, filling you up so perfectly. he held himself up, not wanting to put his full weight on you and gently pulled out when both of your breathing regulated.

he laid down beside you, still in disbelief, his dazed expression making you laugh. he looked over at you with a smile, pulling your chin towards him to place a gentle kiss on your lips. he didn’t think he’d ever get enough of kissing you.

he kissed you again and again, not wanting to pull his lips off of yours. “wait! i need to clean you up,” he said abruptly, sitting up.

“oh yeah, um… there’s a little towel in my bathroom,” you said, rising up onto your elbows. you watched as his eyebows scrunched together and he just shook his head.

“no, i don’t need a towel,” he said, and you couldn’t help but smile at his cute tone… well cute until he was getting comfortable between your legs again, laying down right in front of your leaking core. somehow a sweet, innocent look still on his face.

[barleyo]

Girlfailure.

Older BF! Toji X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: i hate toji sm, why did i write this :( anyways, to any of you who like this sick fucker, i hope this does him justice

Tags: pwp/some plot, age gap, cunnilingus, fingering, scumbag toji, overly cheesy pet names, etc.

Wordcount: 1.2k

When you came home for spring break, the only two things you could think of were one, how many hours would you have to work to afford the upcoming semester, and two, how badly did you just fail all of your midterms?

The answers to those questions became extremely clear as you crunched the numbers in your head. Sitting at eleven-fifty an hour for eight hours a day, five days a week, you'd just barely scrape by with tuition and textbooks. And as far as midterms went, shit, at least you tried. 

If you were more delusional, you'd say your professors had it out for you, but ever the realist, you knew you simply fucked yourself over this time. Hours of studying in the library, and for what? A fourty-two in calc and a fifty-point-something that your organic chem professor didn't even have the decency to round up? 

Stepping into your boyfriend's— was that what he was?— apartment, you felt the desperate craving for a square root curve on those exams, and dick. Always dick. 

All a financially irresponsible, deadbeat father of an older man could offer a "bright" girl like you was just that. Lots of it too, seeing as how you stuck by Toji. 

He was nice enough to invite you to stay at his place over spring break, for the purposes of having a warm cunt nearby at all hours, and to get you out of the shitty dorm room you stayed in any other night. 

"Oh, smart girl's back," Toji said, lazily murmuring at you from his couch. "Had a nice drive?"

You dropped your luggage at his door for him to bring to his bedroom later. His muscles weren't just for show, so you reckoned he could get off of his fine ass and put his thick arms to work. 

"No." Tired feet shuffled your body over, plopping you over his lap, face down. "Well, yeah, the drive was fine. I just don't feel like much of a smart girl."

He snorted indifferently, hardly registering your words as his greedy hand rested over your ass.

"Teacher's grading you too hard, or are y'just gettin' lazy on me?"

"Tch. Did you even graduate, asshole?" You pushed yourself up onto your elbows. "What do you know, anyways?"

Unimpressed, Toji yanked a bit of your hair. Gentle, but enough to force you to look at him. 

"Don't be a little shit. I did, and even if I didn't, it's the real-life stuff that matters. Bein' a book nerd never did anyone any good." He dropped your hair. "Street smarts and all that."

Street smarts. Jesus, what a joke. You cringed internally, remembering how the soon-to-be dropouts from last semester would claim that's what they had. All well and good to be street smart, you thought, seeing as the path you were going down would probably put you on the street. 

This was just the beginning. Whether you were overthinking or not, you were sure that if you didn't pull through for finals, you'd end up failing out. Maybe you were pretty enough to strip. Could be a back up plan, if only you could lose the "Freshman Fifteen" you quickly gained on campus, compliments of the stress eating and cheap, sugary energy drinks you found yourself addicted to. 

"I'm gonna fail out," you said suddenly, nibbling your bottom lip. "I don't know why I thought I could 'do' college. My dad was right."

Toji hated when you got like this. Not because he cared about your stress or ever-present anxiety. That's actually what he liked least about you, that and the fact that your college was forty, far minutes away. No, he hated having to deal with your self-doubt. No time to throw a pity party. No patience to reassure you.

That's the hard part about dating younger girls. He got older, and as he liked to think, wiser, but they stayed young and emotional. Such a drag. A real bummer for a thirty— okay, thirty-eight— year old man who was simply too old for this shit. 

If he wanted any, though, he knew he had to play the game. 

"C'mon, tootsie, it's not all bad. You're a smart one, yeah? And y'only got a couple months until you're done for a bit."

"Hmph."

Damn it. Women. Nothing he said would be good enough. At least there was something he could do that he knew would help. 

"Oh, I missed that baby. That's real good." You felt his warm breath fan over your thigh as his fingers plunged into you. 

Curl and twist, pump, pump, pump. That's all he could really do for you, you knew it. 

If you could ignore how well Toji made you feel, you would probably see what a bum he was. Living in a shitty apartment at his age, gambling and drinking as if money was no object, smoking enough to stain his couch with the smell of ash. Even knowing what his profession was couldn't quite deter you. 

In a life where everything was so dull, so predictable, you sort of liked the danger of a man like Toji. The risk. The wild ride that was his life. You weren't exactly Mary, Queen of Scots, but the old you would have a few questions about your current relationship with the destitute brokey that was glued to your cunt. 

The you now, through, was holding on for dear life, soaking up every second of slick, wet warmth that Toji could give you. Thick fingers prodded deep, curling against the tip of your cervix. Thick scent from a long gone cigarette lingered in the air. 

He was amused really. He would laugh, if he wasn't so desperate to be in your pussy again. Times like this, when he got a taste of you, made him wish he would go and visit you on campus. He wouldn't though, god knew he wouldn't. Every couple of months was good enough for him, lord forbid he use up his mileage to drive out of the city.

"Stop pushing me away," Toji mumbled, pulling your hand from his forehead. "Brat."

His tongue was sharp and purposeful. There were times when he would be messier, play with his food a little, but he was focused. Just not in the way you wanted him to be.

He set a rhythm for himself, a strict guideline. Every time you sucked in a deep breath, he pushed his tongue down harder against your clit. Every gasp was rewarded with a curl of his fingers. Each squirm was punished by a little nip. 

It worked, bringing you close to the edge, just to deny you. If you had it your way, his tongue would lather you and glide over your clit uninterrupted. Sadly, he was in charge, and as the bastard he was, he wanted things his way. That meant a bullying force behind each pump of his fingers, and a teasing swipe of his tongue to ease the brutality, just a bit.

There was no way he could hold you off forever, no matter how fun that sounded, so eventually, when you hands started to grip his hair too tightly, he gave a loud slurp to your pussy. 

If orgasms were money, you'd be a Vanderbilt, but they aren't. For the time being, you were happy enough just being Toji's girl. 

"Hey, To'?" Your messy hair and smudged mascara were a prize to him, a totem of his raw, sexual prowess. He hummed in response. "So, about my textbooks for next semester...?"

He sighed deeply, dragging from his well deserved post-fuck cig. 

"We'll see. Maybe if my parlay hits, doll."

[cheol-e-kat]

• no blueberries, feat. mingyu, pt. 1 •

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁

pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader

mentioned: seungcheol, joshua, vernon, christian yu (dpr ian in part ii)

word count: 4.1K

genre: fake dating, college au, college student!mingyu, college student!reader, fluff, f2l, idiots, idiots in love, angst, pining, denial of feelings, etsablished friendship (reader & ian)

summary: mingyu was just your lab partner and study buddy for several semesters, but lately things seem to have changed, and maybe everyone else has noticed, but for the most part, neither of you even think about what you are to one another until mingyu asks you to be his 'fake' date for a long weekend trip so he can avoid an ex, the biggest problem is realizing that there's nothing fake about your relationship but when mingyu won't even talk about what you are to each other, you start to think things might be over before they even really start

warnings: explicit language, mentions of anxiety, sexually suggestive situations, drinking, established open relationship

a/n: they are literally idiots in love but they're so dumb they almost don't deserve a happy ending - i am screaming at them ;-; ooof writing part ii...and well, i need to update this with additional characters...oops (if you don't know - i am not a planning writing - i just go where the characters take me - they get their shit together - trust the process) besides it's named for a dpr ian song anyway, might as well include him for his dilf status and the accent

xx kat

[part ii] [part iii]

♡ if you would like to be tagged in my upcoming posts, go [here]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁

“please, y/n,” he was definitely begging now. 

she rolled her eyes, “dude, she’s your ex - you’re over her, just go and be normal, okay?” she was a bit annoyed at this point because he was over her, wasn't he, she wondered.

he whined softly, “seriously, just come with me, pretend you’re into me for like four days - i can’t deal with her, you know, alone,” she watched him stare at his textbook, looking fully embarrassed. 

she blinked quickly wondering how she was the friend being enlisted for this - to her they were mainly lab partners and study buddies. she had no clue how he had decided they were close enough to even bring this idea up. but she did feel bad. even as lab partners, she knew his ex was genuinely horrible, as in her entire personality was “gaslight, gate keep, girl boss” - as though those were positive things no less. 

she sighed, “i thought it was kind of a couples thing? since almost everyone is part of a couple,” she trailed off. 

he nodded, “yeah, it is, but she’s going alone - she told someone her whole goal is to fuck me one more time,” he mumbled the last part, blushing hard, “apparently, she ‘misses’ that,” he rolled his eyes, looking miserable. 

even she was shocked to hear that. it was certainly a new low. 

“that’s - that’s really shitty,” she sighed, not knowing what else to say. 

she watched him nod, still staring at his textbook, thumbing the edges of the page. she bit her lip gently, “can i think about it for a bit?”

he nodded, glancing up at her. she couldn’t help but notice how glossy his eyes looked - she worried he was on the verge of crying. she wasn’t equipped to deal with a crying mingyu. happy? sure. drunk? yes. whiny and ridiculous? no problem. 

but to see him on the verge of tearing up because he was worried or stressed or whatever, that was beyond her friendship scope. but to be fair, fake dating probably was too. even if she knew some people did mistake them for a couple. that really wasn’t the point.

the point was the longer they sat there fake studying, she knew what she was going to do. she couldn’t sit back while he went off to a terrible trip to the lake where he might be the target of his ex’s sexcapades. she knew he hadn’t dated since her, which would just be a point againts him - she could easily imagine, ‘oh baby, you haven’t even tried since me?’ - gross, she thought. besides, if he were gone for the break, she wasn’t really sure what she would do anyway. 

the standard was for them to study friday afternoon, and then they would usually met up at a party or something and would duck out for food when either of them got bored and go back to y/n's to watch tv and pass out. saturday was fairly similar, but sunday was more like study, and then they kind of always ordered food and watched tv or something. sometimes he slept on the couch - something her roommate would roll her eyes at whenever possible, espeically since ‘sometimes’ seemed to translate to almost every sunday. 

she had finally told him to just bring clothes so he would't be late for monday morning practices anymore. her roommate had wondered loudly why mingyu didn't just move into y/n's room and get a tiny corner of the closet already. she had ignored that unnecessary commentary. 

she groaned inwardly, “okay, fine - i’ll go with you, but you owe me,” you whispered. 

he glanced up, “really?”

she ignored that he sounded a little too happy and nodded, “yes, if it means you can avoid her insanity for the long weekend,” she tried to feel confident about the decision. 

luckily, she knew there was nothing between them. they’re only lab partners and maybe friends, at best, she tried to assure herself and ignore every other thought she had. 

⋆˙⟡

she truly hated packing for anything, and this trip was no exception. the only slight difference was mingyu hanging out on her bed while she packed this time. she wasn’t sure if he was nervous or what, but he kept shifting around on her bed - it reminded her of a puppy rolling around in the hope that someone would rub its stomach. she tried not to laugh at the mental image of him rolling around in search of belly rubs. instead, she tried to focus on what to pack. 

it was still warm enough to go swimming, despite the fact that it was ‘fall’ break, so she tried to decide on swimsuits. ultimately, she just packed them all - they were basically underwear anyway, she reasoned. 

“are we sharing a room?”

“yeah, you know, since we’re together and ��finally admitting it’ - is that really what jeonghan said?” he asked. he had been annoyed about that response for at least two hours. 

“i literally showed you his text,” she mumbled as she hunted for friends-who-are-fake-dating appropriate sleepwear, aka her most oversized tshirts, sleep shorts that were as un-sexy as possible, and a few sweatshirts in case it was cold.

he sighed, “okay, but that’s such a flippant answer,” he complained. 

she snorted, “‘flippant’?”

“yes!”

she grinned, wondering when he started using words like ‘flippant’ in normal conversations. mingyu was one of those guys who she hadn’t taken seriously when she first met him - he was fun at parties, but when he wanted to study together, she had been seriously skeptical. but then she saw their first exam grades post and realized how well he had ranked. she had wondered if it was just his personality or if he actively worked to hide the fact that he was that smart. 

it hadn’t really mattered though since they had been studying together since then. something she distinctly remembered being an issue for his ex - katie had genuinely hated y/n and wasn’t quiet about it. it was maybe the only time she had seen mingyu fully lose his mind over something - she had never heard the words ‘get fucked’ said quiet so intensely, especially since that they were sitting in the library at the time. 

she sighed, “don’t you think it might be a little obvious for us to show up together?”

“not really - she always said we had some weird thing, so why not let her be right,” his voice was concerningly normal. 

she had been thinking about the fact that it was kind of a petty move. actually, there were loads of reasons she could think of for not going, including almost every scenario from a horror movie - she was not discounting serial killers in masks waiting in the woods. but her main concern was being confronted by katie - it just felt like a needlessly stressful way to spend her fall break.

“okay, but i mean, you couldn’t think of anyone else?"

he sighed, “like who? i hang out with you, i go out with you - you make sense,” his voice was soft, but he still sounded just a little disappointed that she was asking him…again. 

she rolled her eyes, “we could just hang out like normal and avoid this.”

she glanced at him, watching him mull over what she had said and not for the first time either. to be fair, her anxiety was only growing. she left him to go pretend to be discerning about how much of her skincare she was packing, even though she was blindly grabbing everything from her counter. when she walked back into her room, he was sitting up.

“even if she’s there, the trip is just to have fun and not be on campus - you know, a break at joshua’s nice lake house,” he didn’t look at her as he explained. 

she stared for a moment and turned back to her already exploding suitcase, “you only asked me because of her,” she felt like it was very obvious why she was going, but she heard him mumble something, which she ignored. instead, she violently jammed her clothes and toiletries into her bag. 

she absolutely hated that knowing katie would be there made her feel a tiny bit competitive - she had purposefully picked all of her smallest swimsuits - she had even gone to get waxed for this, something she definitely would never admit to anyone. she had even dragged out her status luggage bag - the one her step-mom had given her two christmases ago that made her cringe. there was also the little, tiny mean voice in the back of her mind that had always thought katie had never been good enough for mingyu anyway - she wasn’t especially cute, and her voice drove y/n up the walls - not to mention she was kind of dumb and objectively sucked at beer pong. y/n would also never admit that she used to play them on purpose just to beat them because she was good at beer pong. 

she jumped when mingyu touched her arm, “fuck, what?” 

she hadn’t even noticed that he was lying on his side, watching her jam everything into her bag.

“you don’t have to go,” he whispered. 

she swooped all of her hair off her shoulders in annoyance, mostly because there was something about the way he whispered, with this weird tenderness, that made her feel way too quivery. it wasn’t fair because she knew she never affected him like that. she just shook her head. she was totally fine with everything. plus, she didn’t believe him for a moment that she could just stay. she knew in her gut that she had moved something in their friendship past a boundary that she hadn’t even noticed, and now, she couldn’t just take it back without suffering the consequences. 

⋆˙⟡

she was glad she was driving. she could at least focus on the road, plus they were the ones tasked with stopping at the liquor store, so she only had to deal with mingyu and seungcheol - she only wondered briefly why no one cared that seungcheol was solo for the long weekend. actually, it only annoyed her slightly that mingyu had left that fact out - she knew he could have spent the entire break with seungcheol, no problem, which only made her wonder why he really asked her. worse was her wondering why it seemed to matter that mingyu sounded disappointed at the idea of her not going, accepting but unhappy - not like he had been when she said ‘yes’. 

she walked through the store, mainly looking for the things she wanted. her ideal party weekend was starting her day off with something bubbly and moving on to liquor by lunch. she wasn’t really paying attention to the cases of beer, tequila, and vodka mingyu and seungcheol were collecting. instead, she was in line to pay for her stuff and some edible gummy candies she noticed last minute - she grabbed several of those. she could’ve kicked herself for not asking her roommate’s girlfriend for some weed before she left. she waited next to her car for them to come out, answering a few texts. she ignored the ones from mingyu. she couldn’t help that she was from a family of people who completely avoided their emotions, plus she could see the message preview - it wasn’t anything life-changing. 

when they came out, she wasn’t super shocked by the very full cart or the fact that they practically filled the back of her suv - they had to move their bags into the seat with seungcheol. it was like half the soccer team, their girlfriends, and friends for five nights, after all. the team wasn’t known for holding back at any of their parties - the rule was ‘no empties.’ she could only hope that the people getting food were grabbing enough to balance everything out. 

the rest of the drive was uneventful. it was pretty though - even if it still looked like summer and not a bit like fall. 

the house was a massive hunk of glass overlooking the lake. everything was very modern and sleek inside. she had been imagining something a little more cozy, less brutal. but that didn’t really matter, especially when they started divvying up the rooms - she and mingyu had a room that shared a bathroom with seungcheol’s room. and it hit her immediatly, mingyu was staying in seungcheol’s room. she wasn’t sure why it annoyed her, but it did, especially when she planned to be sharing a room with him. 

she starfished out on the bed - her bed - and decided she would probably go home the next day. there was literally no reason for her to be here, and there probably never had been. also, sharing the bathroom with two whole ass guys just sounded miserable. she sat up after a few moments of moping, remembering the edibles she had - she ate three and dropped back onto the bed. she wasn’t planning on coming out of her room. mingyu could get fucked, she decided. 

it was seungcheol who was leaning over when she woke up with a yelp, “what the fuck?” her heart was pounding. 

he laughed, “sorry, mingyu wondered if you were okay, so i came to check,” he raised an eyebrow, “you seem alive, though,” he concluded.

she rolled her eyes, “thanks for the astute diagnosis, dr. choi,” she murmured and fell back onto the bed.

he laughed, “seriously though, you good?”

she exhaled loudly, “is he like standing in the bathroom or something?”

seungcheol shook his head.

“liar,” she groaned and rolled over, “i’m going home in the morning, so he can stop feeling whatever way he’s feeling.”

seungcheol looked surprised, “you’re just heading back? isn’t this like the first time you’ve like been somewhere together?”

she shrugged, “and?” your annoyance was definitely coming through, loud and clear.

seungcheol nodded, “right, you two have weird vibes, but look, i need him out of my room - my date is here, and i actually want to spend time with her.”

she could only roll her eyes, “so four people and one bathroom - this is only getting better,” she sighed, “i should just go home now.”

seungcheol shrugged, “whatever, just say it’s okay for him to come in here, so he stops whining in my room - it’s seriously killing my mood.”

“okay, whatever, i don’t care.” 

this was truly going downhill as far as she was concerned. and why would mingyu be whining to seungcheol anyway, she wondered. she heard him come into the room, but she didn’t move. even when he sat on the bed, she stayed still. 

“are you really leaving?”

she pressed her lips together, thinking, “probably not, but seriously, why did you even ask me?” 

she had maybe run out of whatever annoyance she had felt before at being woken up out of nowhere, plus her edibles were wearing off. she sat up so she was next to him, “just tell me what this is - like i’m a buffer, right? but you didn’t tell anyone that i was just coming along, you told them we’re dating, and that comes with like expectations,” she trailed off. 

“since when do you care about expectations?”

she wondered if smacking him would be too strong of a reaction. 

this was all such a bad idea. she was going to have a shit weekend and probably lose her friend in the process. 

⋆˙⟡

the rest of the night was uneventful, with everyone filtering in and no one eating at the same time. she grabbed food and something to drink and mostly avoided conversation, especially if it had to do with her and mingyu. 

she also decided if she pretended this was like a retreat, she could just focus on swimming and hiking since, according to her phone, there were some great trails around. and obeying her fake retreat rules, she grabbed some extra water and headed to bed early - she needed to sleep if she was going to go for a sunrise swim. she was glad that she brought a sleep mask and ear plugs.

her only problem was mingyu’s texts. he hadn’t answered her question about why he asked her or explained why he went nuclear and told everyone they were dating. she had thoughts on what was going on, but she was as bad as he was. even lying in bed, in her not sexy at all clothes, her brain was in overdrive thinking about him in ways she didn’t want to be, especially since her phone kept going off. she knew he was thinking about her, even if it was this pretend, fake way - it didn’t matter. she pulled her pillow over her head to try to drown out the telltale buzzing. she refused to check her phone. 

even when she finally heard the sounds of people going to bed. she cringed at the idea of seungcheol fucking. her gut reaction was that man would be loud. 

she heard the footsteps outside their door, “come on mingyu - baby, just come to my room - you know you want to,” she sat up, knowing the voice immediately. 

“no, i told you i’m not” — she heard the sudden wet sounds of a kiss.

“fuck, katie, stop - what are you not hearing?” she could hear the edge in his voice. 

she sighed, she was technically there to help him avoid this kind of thing. she got out of bed and pulled off her sleep shorts, so she was clearly down to just her panties and tshirt, and tossed her sleep mask. 

she walked to the door and opened it slowly, “gyu?” she made sure sleep was thick in her voice, as she pouted up at him adn tugged his shirt sleeve, “come to bed,” she whispered, biting her lower lip gently. 

she didn’t even look at katie, just him.

he looked at her, “hey, baby,” he didn’t miss a beat, pulling away from katie as fast as he could and walking into their room after her, closing and locking the door. 

she walked back over to the bed and flopped back onto the soft mattress, “helpful enough?” she asked. 

the low light from outside was enough for her to see him nod, “sorry we woke you up,” his voice was soft. 

she shook her head, “it’s fine, just come to bed - i want to swim in the morning,” she was already happily back under the duvet. 

he was gone long enough for her to doze, but she opened her eyes when she heard him, “do you literally mean come to bed?”

she turned over and threw the covers back and patted the spot next to her. he still looked uncertain. she sighed and moved so she was on her knees - she grabbed his hand, “how much more of an invitation do you need?”

“you didn’t even check my messages,” his voice was so small - he sounded hurt. 

she tried to find some answer in the way he was looking at her. but there was nothing besides the fact that she had hurt his feelings. ignoring him was the only thing she knew genuinely drove him nuts - he had told her when they were strictly lab partners how much he hated it - how much it annoyed him. she rarely ignored him. but she had tonight, mainly because her own thoughts were kind of fucked, seeing his stream of conciousness texts would have made it worse.

“so let me apologize,” she whispered, pulling his hand gently - it wasn’t lost on her that he was just in his underwear. 

he let her pull him into bed, and she straddled him, reaching down to smooth his hair back from his face, “what hurts, baby?” 

he touched his lips - she nodded, leaning down to kiss him softly. she held his jaw gently and kissed him slowly. she moaned faintly when she felt his hands ghost along her lower back and under her shirt. his hands were so warm, she shivered. she deepened their kiss, tracing her fingers through his hair as she did, loving how soft his hair was. they stayed that way, making out like it was the only thing in the world that mattered. even when she felt one of his hands slide down over the curve of her ass to trace his fingers under the hem of her panties, she didn’t break the kiss. she wasn’t worried about where his hands might wander. there were only so many things he could touch. 

when she finally pulled away to breathe, she still played with his hair, “so, tell me what we’re doing, mingyu - so we both know, please.”

she could feel his hands on the backs of her thighs - he squeezed her thighs lightly, “what we do every weekend, y/n,” his voice was low.

she bit her lip softly, thinking about the weekend before, letting all her memories bubble to the top. her favorite part was the way he had held her back against his chest, leaning down to kiss her while he fucked her from below. 

she shook her head gently, “just say it - tell me the way you told everyone else,” she murmured. 

she waited for anything besides silence before sitting up and shaking her head. she moved to her side of the bed. she didn’t understand how they had gone so fluidly from one thing to another without really talking about it at all. but then again, that was maybe exactly how it happened - they hadn’t called it anything - it was just what they did. and she hadn’t cared about what it was anymore than he had until he brought it up - until he told people what they were. but somehow, that was the fake part - actually calling it a relationship wasn’t real, even though they had clearly been more than friends or anything else for months. 

⋆˙⟡

she went to sleep purely for spite. and when she woke up with her alarm, she slipped out of bed, grabbed her swimsuit and went to change. it was when she walked out of the bathroom and by the bed that she felt him grab her hand gently, “are you really going out?”

she nodded, “yeah, why shouldn’t i do the stuff i want?”

“i didn’t say you shouldn’t,” he let go of her, sighing as he shifted around under the duvet. 

she didn’t repsond, instead, she just grabbed her stuff and went quietly through the house and out the back. she walked along the dock, pausing at the end for a moment before jumping into the cool waters. even when she surfaced, she couldn’t get him out of her mind. she floated, thinking about the fact that whatever they were was only nameless when they were alone. she laughed to herself. 

she got out when she started to feel chilly. she dried off and walked back to the house. she poked around the kitchen to find something for breakfast and some ice - she had kept her own drinks in their room, knowing they would be gone otherwise. 

she went back to their room, bypassing the bed in favor of going onto the balcony they had. she hadn’t looked at it the night before. she only went back in to grab a bottle of champagne. she popped the cork, not really caring that it wasn’t chilled yet. she sipped it before sticking the bottle in the ice she had gotten. she ate fruit and some leftover steak she had found in the fridge. she scrolled through her socials. 

a few of her friends had messaged to ask if she were really dating mingyu - her blanket response was easy, ‘no.’ 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁

a/n: told you they are dumb af...trust the process, yes they're about to be messy af...but i only write happy endings

♡ kat

[part ii] [part iii]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁

tag list: @syluslittlecrows

if you want to be tagged, go [here] my [master list] if you want to read more

[snoopychris]

house party

in which... chris needs his brother to get hobbies.

when chris’ parents made his brothers stay in the florida keys during his first semester, he knew they’d cause some sort of problem. nick would whine about always being sunburnt and still not wearing sunscreen or about how he never got laid because there was no cute gay guys around. matt would… well do lots of things. he would be a complete douche to “impress” the ladies, throw parties whenever possible, have a different girl over each week. really the possibilities of what matt could do were endless since he wasn’t in school. even nick was taking online classes. from day one, chris was expecting the worst. 

what chris— and nick, for that matter— never expected was to come back from the library at 11:30 am on a tuesday and see a bunch of unknown cars parked outside of the house. nick’s eyes are wide when he walks inside, noticing an array of people around. he turns around to look at chris, doing nothing more than sending him a look of what the actual fuck. chris hangs his keys up on his designated hook, placing his backpack there as well. he shrugs in response, apologizing to the girl he bumped into. 

both brothers sigh for a moment before matt walks into the room. matt’s wearing a pair of swim trunks with blueberries on them, a matching unbuttoned hawaiian shirt on his shoulders. “oh sick you guys are here. did you get my text? i guess girls here don’t really drink beer and they’re really fighting for those white claws.” he speaks, taking a sip of his beer. he hands the spare can he was holding to chris, receiving a look of disgust from his younger brother. “okay then…” matt mumbles, throwing his arm around the shoulder of the first girl he sees. “hey, hot stuff. i’m matt. threw this party. you come here often? y’wanna come here often?” chris rolls his eyes at matt’s words, heart skipping beats when he sees the last thing he was expecting.

youre here. maybe the party isn’t that bad. chris begins to make his way towards you, stopping dead in his tracks when matt grabs onto his wrist and whispers into his ear. “you’re not staying at my party if you’re not in uniform. bikinis and swimsuits only.” chris looks down at his outfit and then his brothers eyes, knowing how honest his brothers being. he groans as he slips his t-shirt off, throwing it on the messy table. matt smirks in response, going back to his conversation with a new girl. 

chris finally gets over to you, gently tapping your shoulder and pulling you away from your conversation. your smile grows instantly, setting your drink next to you. “hey! it’s you.” you giggle, tucking your hair behind your ear. he knew your dad had money, but he never expected enough money for you to be wearing a pink dior bikini. there’s a different seashell clip in your hair this time. chris still has your old one. the pop of his beer can interrupts the comfortable silence that sit between the two of you, making you giggle again. he wishes that he could record it and listen to it before bed. “i dont think i ever expected you to be at a random party at 11:30 am. i thought you were in school?” you ask, taking a sip from your straw. chris briefly notices how you havent touched your cup since it formed droplets of condensation. 

“its my brothers party… you didnt know? im assuming you heard from a friend or something then?” he quips, a smirk forming on his face. you nod at his words, confirming his suspicions. this time, you learn about him. he.s the youngest of four. he was born and raised in boston. his grandmother recently went back to work at the hospital– its why the party is able to be happening– and he’s studying marine biology. crazy enough, you have your phone with you today. usually its sat forgotten on your bed. chris is bold enough to ask for your phone number and other information and you give it over without hesitation. to chris, its an action that means everything. to you its… an unusual feeling. youre not too sure what it is, but its not nothing.

the music that was blasting in the room a few moments ago is now nothing but muffled noise. everything around you is muffled noise. almost everything. after multiple rejections, matt moves to be stood next to you and across from chris. his hand moves to be sitting on your shoulder, staring into your eyes. you scrunch your nose at the actions, chris letting out a laugh. theres no way matt is trying to make a move on you right now. instead of doing what he should and telling matt about it off to the side, chris decides to pull out his phone and send his brother a few friendly texts. 

yo. 

cut it out

i saw her first 

DIBS.

matt groans when he gets the last text from chris. he throws his arms up in disbelief, earning a laugh from chris. matt finishes off his beer and crushes the can, throwing it in the trash can. “hey!” you gasp, picking it out of the trash and putting it in the recycling bin. matt chuckles at the action, shrugging it all off. maybe he didnt want you that bad after all. chris notices this and decides to pull matt to the side anyway.

“dude you have to cut it out. you cant just be throwing parties and flirting with every girl in sight. youre gonna get a reputation and no not in the cool taylor swift way. in a whore way. and you seem like a dick. and definitely dont flirt with pearl. i called dibs on her… as a friend. you cant take my friend. besides, do you not have hobbies or something? damn.” chris mumbles, running his hand through his hair as he leans back against the counter. matt shrugs as he grabs another can of beer from the fridge, patting his brothers shoulder. he sends you a wink as he walks outside, leaving you and chris stranded in the kitchen. “do you have sisters or something? like i gotta set that kid up with somebody cause throwing a party just to get girls in bikinis here… isn’t normal.” you giggle at his words, licking your lips. 

“i’ve got six. cora, nyx, quin, ocean, and mari. there’s ser too but she doesn’t leave the house much. she’s a very big homebody.”  you reply, taking a sip of your own sweet concoction. chris furrows his brows at you, nodding at your words. the look on his face tells you everything you need to know about his choice.

🫧dividers by @13hoax my angel

🫧tags: @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbrat @wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @ayesha-eroticaa @freshhhloveee @courta13 @sturns-mermaid @ivysturnss @slutformatt17 @emely9274 @princessesgarden @marrykisskilled @zebonos @chrislova @muwapsturniolo @oopsiedaisydeer @throatgoat4u

🫧a/n: crazy enough i dont have a lot to say about this. usually im all yap yap yap but im like rlly... rlly proud of this. arent the dividers so cute tho! kiss kiss! -gen.

[haikyu-mp4]

Lucky misunderstanding

word count; 974 – gn!reader I think

Not usually favouring sports, you’re in the journalism club to make use of your great eye for design and writing. After watching one of your school’s volleyball team’s official games last season, you took notice of the boring brochures they handed out with the players’ information. You hadn’t yet chosen what to do for your project this semester and decided to lend your talents to making a better representation of the team’s charms and talents. What you didn’t expect to get out of the project was a date.

You received permission from their coach and captain and set up some equipment to take your photos in a room adjacent to the gym during practice. Hopefully, you can encourage them all to pose confidently. In order to not disturb their whole practice, you ask one grade to join you at a time, starting with the first-years and ending with the third-years. Good luck!

Having seen how strategic and tactical Seijoh are on the court, you thought the photoshoot would go by pretty quickly and smoothly. You didn’t account for Yahaba and Kuotani being this difficult. They were egging each other on and making it hard for you to get any shots where they weren’t wearing angry frowns.

That’s why you at least hoped the third years would be easier. Calm, confident and collected.

Well.. they sure were confident. At least you were laughing, watching how they played around and criticised each others’ poses. Iwaizumi seemed to keep his distance, though, only coming out of his shell to throw some comments at Oikawa.

He went last, straightening out his uniform and standing in the spot you wanted him to. “Let’s get this over with.”

You shrugged and held up the camera, but put it down again. He was just staring sternly at the lens. “Could you give me some confidence?” you asked. “Where’s the smug guy that beats everyone in arm wrestling?”

The effect is instant and the other guys are thrilled to spot Iwa’s red ears. “Yea, Iwa! Where are the muscles?” Makki cooed and giggled. You looked away from the boy and down at your hands for a second. Is he mocking you? “Just think of how y/n is staring at you through the lens.” he continued teasing before Mattsun roughly patted his shoulder to make him stop, even though he was chuckling too.

Do they know about your crush? Did you bust yourself with that comment? Have they heard a rumour? How embarrassing! That’s the worry that swirled in your head as you cleared your throat and looked shyly at Iwaizumi. The ace himself nearly growled, pushing his sleeves up and walking towards his friends with a threatening “you three better run” slipping between his teeth.

The boys all took his advice and ran out, clearly terrified of the muscly ace as he started running at them until they were all out of the room. He took in a deep breath and turned back, glancing between you and the floor as he stood in front of you again.

“I’m sorry-“

“I’m sorry.” The two of you said at the same time, making both of you lift your gazes to meet each other’s in surprise.

“Why are you sorry? They were being stupid,” he mumbled with a weak chuckle as if trying to brush it off. You cleared your throat again, looking away and down at the camera.

“You probably just want to get this over with, I didn’t think they would make you uncomfortable,” you rambled, not sure if you should address your crush or leave it unspoken and let the poor boy escape you.

“I’m not! They just know I get… flustered… around you,” he admitted hesitantly, finally meeting your eyes again and tucking his hands in his pockets.

Thinking back, Oikawa had mumbled something about Iwa-chan loving this when you asked him if he approved your project. Your path didn’t cross with Iwaizumi’s that often at school, but when it did you would always stop for a short chat and it would fill you with happy energy for the rest of the day. That’s how you developed your crush, which might have created some inspiration for this project as well.

You were surprised and trying to sort out your thoughts as your mouth opened and closed like a fish. “Let’s just get this over with, forget what I said,” he said, already regretting his little confession when you didn’t respond.

“I thought they were teasing me for my crush on you.” You chuckled under your breath before lifting the camera. All you saw was a very surprised Iwaizumi.

“Huh?”

“Makki kept commenting on how I was looking at you and your freaking muscles and I just thought they must be teasing me for it.” you rambled again, looking away and cursing mentally at how you were never finishing the photoshoot at this rate.

“They were teasing because I like you,” he said, letting the whole sentence out in one breath. You only caught every word because you were desperately listening to him.

“Really?” was all you managed to say, even chuckling a bit at the misunderstanding.

He chuckled too, rubbing his face with both hands before glancing at you to see your reaction. “Really.”

“Then I think you should let me finish my project and take me out on a date later,” you declared, biting the inside of your lip in anticipation.

He straightened up and gave you a determined look. “I like the way you think.”

So you did finish taking the photos, maybe even sneaking in a shy little first kiss before he had to go back to practice. He told you to wait for him after practice and you both parted ways with rosy cheeks.

Maybe just this once he should thank Makki for being so insufferable.

the Flyer Series ║ masterlist

/taglist: @cottonlemonade @dira333 @cosmiicdust @nagi-core

[occasionalsnippets]

I Read FD!Mc and I love them, awh, how cute, It is stated that FD!Mc is not a constant in the universe since thier alternate self didn't exist but what do you think thier alternate self woild be like if it did exist?

— 🦊 Anon

I did do a couple of little au ideas at the end of the outline but here’s elaboration of Wayne enterprises intern au!

Taglist:@dragondevinity, @lonely-star2044, @sheep-from-rad, @ilxandra, @thethingwiththefeathers, @star-wars-lycanwing-bat, @sackofsadstuff, @zonked-times, @paastaboi, @venfia, @fantasy-angelo, @linaisadream

You get an internship at Wayne Enterprises and it’s pretty great. It’s only supposed to last half a semester but then um. Jason died. The company went to hell for a bit, your supervisor transferred to another department and no one signed your internship annulment form. So, you’re trapped at Wayne Enterprises for the unforeseeable future.

Tim sneaks out one night and ends up becoming Robin. You had told him to wait for you but apparently you were taking too long so he left on his own. Ugh. Teen rebellion. You knew it was going to happen at some point.

The company gets less on fire. Mr. Wayne starts showing up again. It's summer and you are still working at Wayne Enterprises. Fuck you hate it here but at least you're still being paid.

You think that at some point, they just… forgot you were an intern? People keep giving you tasks. You keep doing them. You don't know who your new supervisor is or who to go to anymore.

Tim goes to you for advice on how to take care of a grown ass man. You tell him he should just let you into the Wayne manor so you can do it yourself but he thinks it won't go over well. Fine. Whatever. You help out in the background.

At some point, Batman starts getting better and Tim becomes Robin officially. Mr. Wayne, still pretending to be as ditzy as ever, mistakes you for someone else (an assistant or something?) and brings you along to a board meeting.

You dutifully take notes and watch him run circles around everyone else. At the end of the meeting, once everyone has left, he turns to you and asks "And who are you again?"

You give your name, no last name, and ask if there's anything else he needed. He waves you off. You can already tell he's going to stalk your employment history.

The new intern supervisor's contact information is buried under 62 emails and 5 link portals. You call so you can finally quit. They respond with "You've been promoted". "What?". "You're been promoted". "By who? When? For what?". "By Mr. Wayne, two days ago, to executive assistant."

You complain to Tim as you examine the case he brought back to you for help. He is entirely unsympathetic to your plight.

The things that happen after are mainly just shenanigans.

You know that they know that you know Mr. Wayne and co are vigilantes but in a "professional work setting", you are determined to never directly bring it up. If they want to talk about it, it will be over your dead body.

Later, when Batman gets lost in the time stream and Mr. Wayne mysteriously "retires". Tim breaks the news to you.

"Congrats, you've been appointed CEO."

"What?" you respond in horror.

"You're the new CEO." He's not even hiding his laughter.

"Traitor," you hiss at him as he breaks and laughs directly in your face.

[xetlynn]

an artists muse- a viktor fic.

one.

[intro] [one] [two]

a paradox of fate.

“Shit, shit!” You muttered under your breath as your feet quickly rushed across the college campus. Repeatedly checking the time on your phone along with your lockscreen that was a picture of your schedule. You were over five minutes late due to your ignorance in paying attention to the clock whilst completing applications for part time jobs. 

Your hands collide with the door to your class, slamming it open. Earning awareness from all eyes in the room. Your cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I- sorry! I lost track of time!” You pant, shakily walking inside. Your professor has a gentle smile upon his lips. “It’s quite alright, dear! Find a seat, it’s the first day so no harm done!” He waves off your tardiness, relief sighing out your body. 

Your eyes scan the room, hoping to see someone familiar but  no luck. Instead you lock contact with a boy who sends chills down your spine. His gaze pierced into you. His brunette locks falter into his vision when he attempts to glance away. You deem him nice-enough looking and make your way beside him. 

His shoulders tense, not expecting someone to choose to sit next to him. Not when there were multiple other choices to choose from. He figures you only did so because he looks smart. Conjecturing that you could cheat off of him. 

“Did I miss anything important?” You lean close to him, not too close to where you were in his personal space though. It was enough that your scent hit his nose like a ton of bricks. Vanilla and honey? A hint of coconut in there as well? 

He doesn’t look at you, staring straight at the board. “No, just an introduction of himself.” He whispers, leaning his chin on his clasped hands, held up by his elbows. You purse your lips out, almost frowning. “Introductions are important.” You murmur but it was inaudible to his ears. 

When class is dismissed you’re the first one to stand from your seat. Just like you entered the room is exactly how you left. Flinging the heavy doors open and scurrying to the school’s cafeteria. “[Name]! Over here!” A blue-haired girl loudly shouts, standing from a chair as her boyfriend behind her was quietly begging her to get down. You laugh, waving at her. You join the two, sitting down as your chest is still heaving. 

“I was late to my first class! What a way to start the semester.” You pout, stealing a sip of Ekko’s drink since it was the only thing on the table. He went to stop you but he knows he’d lose the argument against you. “Hah! Really? Me too!” Powder, your best friend laughs. 

“We’re like platonic soul mates!” You beam, grabbing her hand. She squeezes it, getting in close to your face. “Why platonic? We could be romantic!” She scrunches her nose with determination. You roll your eyes as Ekko clears his throat, reminding the both of you that he still sat there. “Right… boyfriend.” Her face goes sour in a playful manner, leaning back on her boyfriend. “Just kidding, just kidding…” She kisses his cheek causing you to gag at the sight. 

“Gross.” 

“You’re just jealous.” He points a finger in your face. “Whatever.” You sulk. 

“Oh, I have to get to my next class. Don’t want to be late a second time.” Powder shoots up, pecking Ekko’s lips and then ruffling your hair before sprinting off. 

Ekko and you look around, pretending to act awkward. “So…” He begins. “So.” You repeat shortly. “We’re going to have a sleepover tonight, you comin?” He tilts his head. Your eyes sparkle at the question. “Uh! Of course!!! Powder and I will beg Vi for drugs.” You blurt out, a little too loud. People look over and you just chuckle. 

Ekko shakes his head, “I don’t think she’s going to after the last time she got you alcohol.” He presses his lips together in a straight line. “Psshhh, we didn’t even cause that bike to explode.” You say while avoiding eye contact, knowing for a fact that it was the both of you. 

“I can convince Vi, she loves me!” 

“I know she does but ah, whatever. You’re going to do it anyway.” He stops himself from lecturing you, you nod in response. “Exactly. 

—————————————

[gc with Ekko, Claggor, powder, mylo and you]

mylo 👎- someone tell [name] to STOP SENDING ME PICS OF SCARY IMAGES

Claggoooo- [name] stop.

You- BOOOOO!!!

Lover stealer- please remember to get food and stuff for tonight. Everyone.

Lover stealer- even you mylo.

mylo👎- what!? Why are you singling me out???

Powpow😻- you never bring anything. You moocher.

You- literally.

mylo👎- [NAME] I DONT WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU!!!

You- too bad, cry about it. Sob.

————————————————

“Please, please, please, PLEASE!!!” You and Powder are currently on your knees, begging the pink-haired girl in front of the both of you. Arms folded and an eyebrow raised. “Guys-” 

“Puh-LEASE!” You interrupt before she can say no. 

“[Name]-” “VIOLET PLEASE!!” You cry out dramatically. Powder giving her sister puppy-dog eyes. “If you would listen for a second!!!” She smacks a hand over your mouth. “I was going to say you could have my left over vodka that’s in my mini-fridge.” She points over to the black appliance. Both of your faces fall momentarily before Powder goes to the fridge, snatching the clear and blue glass bottle. 

You stand up, embracing Vi. “I love you.” You mutter in her ear, following Powder out of the dorm, yelling ‘thank you’s.’ 

“The party’s here!!” Powder bursts into the three boys’ shared apartment, holding up the bottle of vodka like simba from the lion king.

They cheer, Claggor taking the bottle and putting it in a bucket of ice they have. Beers from their last hang out in the ice. You also brought three boxes of pizza, sitting it on the stove. “I also brought my wii and just dance. We are going to get so wasted.” You announce excitedly. 

“Don’t you have a class in the morning?” Mylo prompts, and you just ignore him.

“I’ll hook this up while you guys get some food.” You say, the short brunette scoffing at your rudeness of not replying to him. 

[maybege]

Bejeweled

Summary: You never wanted to get your nipples pierced until you are faced with a handsome, older tattoo artist. Now, you might actually consider it …

Pairing: tattoo artist!Boba Fett x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 8.9k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: Modern AU, implied age gap, explicit sexual content, unprotected sexual intercourse, vaginal fingering, oral fixation, nipple clamps, nipple play, spanking, dirty talk, (slight) verbal degradation, technically semi-public sex, yearning

Ngl, when I asked at the start of this month which WIP I should focus on, I did not expect to actually finish anything. But here I am and here you are! Ready to dive head first into the fantasy that is tattoo artist!Boba. The story is based on this post and I am so happy I got to indulge a little more. I will upload this to AO3 a bit later because, fun fact, this is actually a scheduled post because I am seeing the Tom Hiddleston (yes, you read that right).

As always, please do let me know what you think of it in a comment or a reblog! Knowing that I get to share the stories with you makes writing so much more fun.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

It had all started innocently enough, in a way.

You had too much to drink, the semester had just started, and with it being the last semester you had to teach Introduction to Victorian Literature 101 until you could finally get to work on your passion project, you and your friends went out to celebrate.

Nothing too crazy, just some drinks at the pub around the corner. The one where neither faculty nor students went to so you could sip your cocktail in peace while Ashleigh ranted about her most recent dating escapades. But something was different tonight because the drinks just kept flowing and you did not feel the need to stop even when you passed your usual three drinks.

To be fair, most of the night was pretty blurry from then on. But you remembered pretty clearly the way Chants had slurred “Girl, you should get your nipples pierced.” As you stumbled together across the sidewalk.

You weren’t really sure why that had sounded so plausible at that moment, given the fact that you had never been interested in getting pierced beyond the earrings when you were younger. But then there was the store at the corner, the neon sign flickering against the dark and rainy night. The tattoo and piercing studio that you had passed by again and again without giving it so much as a second glance.

Not even five minutes later, you were standing in front of a man who had introduced himself as Boba Fett.

“I am interested in getting my nipples pierced,” you had declared with the conviction only a drunk person possessed while Ashleigh and Chants giggled and flipped through a book full of flash designs.

The old man, who looked so handsome your thighs clenched, lifted his eyebrow, clearly bemused.

“Very well,” he had said, “You seem old enough to make a stupid decision on your own.”

The protest that it wasn’t a stupid decision, thank you very much, died on your tongue when his hand, packed in black gloves, gently prodded your chest. His mouth was moving and you were pretty sure that he was explaining the entire process to you but all you could focus on was how sexy this man was.

And to top it all off, you couldn’t even remember the last time you had been naked in front of anyone and, to your embarrassment, you seemed to have said that out loud, because he chuckled and shook his head.

“In order to prepare you for the needle, I will stimulate your chest. Is that okay for you?”

A mute nod (and racing heart) later, the big man was standing between your thighs, his fingers playing with your chest and you hoped to the stars he did not notice how you arched your back into him.

“Now,” he said, his fingers closed around your nipple, “Are you still sure this isn’t a stupid decision?”

You hummed, your eyes half closed, distracted by the pleasure he was giving you.

“Good girl,” his voice rumbled and what was it about his voice that sent tingles throughout your entire body? Or the feeling between your thighs when his eyes pierced yours? Or the pleased smile on his face when you quickly squeaked “I changed my mind, sorry!”

 “Good girl,” he had repeated, a smirk on his lips, “Saying what you want. If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.”

*

Which is why, a week later, you were trying very hard to convince yourself that you wanted to get your nipples pierced. Pierced nipples were cool! Right?

As opposed to your last visit, the storefront of Fett’s Tattoo Corner looked much friendlier. The sun was shining, the birds were singing and the pedestrians mingling in front of the café next door gave the store an almost harmless look. But as soon as you stepped through the bell door, you were unable to trick your body into being relaxed.

You were far from relaxed. Everything was pulled taut and you felt strangely aware of how your chest was rising and falling with each breath and maybe you should have chosen the other dress to wear what if he didn’t like this one and why were you thinking about what he liked you didn’t even know if he was here and oh stars he was here and he was coming straight towards you –

It seemed that your drunken memories couldn’t do the real man justice. Boba Fett was tall, and broad, his tan skin adorned with traditional tattoos and he looked so serious for a moment that your horny brain made the helpful suggestion to just kneel in front of him.

Because that wasn’t weird at all.

For a moment, the possibility occurred to you that he might not be happy to see you or – worse – not even remember who you were. But as you were frantically thinking about how to pretend that you were just waiting for a friend, a smile spread across his lips and you got to see that he had dimples. Dimples.

“Here for a consultation, princess?” he asked, his voice a familiar rumble, “why don’t we go talk in the private room?”

The private room in question was a little cabin, separated from the main work room by a thick velvet curtain that drowned out the buzzing noise of the tattoo guns. Several people were in the room, working and being worked, but you paid them no mind when all you could focus on was how thick the underside of his upper arm looked.

How had that never been a body part you paid any attention to? And why did his look so good?

The older men gestured for you to sit down on the little cot and you did, your feet swinging in the air.

“So, what can I do for you?” the curtain fell closed and the sounds from outside faded away. It was just the two of you now.

“I want to get my nipples pierced.”

“Feel like I've heard that before,” he teased you.

You swallowed, “I'm serious this time.”

He did not look like he believed you but you did not really care. You watched as his body moved through the room, prepping the instruments. Your chest tingled at the thought of him touching you again and you wondered, really wondered, how desperate you must be that the thought of some simple human touch made your thighs clench.

But it wasn’t simple touches you were craving.

Because as you watched his arms bulge and his shirt strain around his midsection, you remembered how his thumbs had brushed the sides of your breast and could not help but wonder what it would be like to feel his weight on top of you. To hear his voice praise you as you took his cock that you just knew was going to stretch you in the best way possible. This was a man who would tell you what to do and you just knew you’d follow his every word because, ultimately, it would lead to the pleasure you had been craving for the better part of your adult life.

“So, uh, so how long have you been doing this job?” you asked, looking at a few of the pictures on the walls. Black and white photographs of both intricate and bold designs, pierced body parts, and fierce people facing the camera lens head-on. It looked badass.

Boba chuckled, his hands busy at the workstation, “I have tattoos older than you, sweetheart, and I’ve made tattoos older than you. If that’s what you're asking.”

You squirmed again, your breath halting when his knowing eyes met yours. “Is that what you're asking?”

“I – I think so.”

He hummed, stepping over to you with a tray in his hands. “You know the drill already,” he joked, warm eyes roaming over your body, making you very aware of what you had come here for, “Off with the shirt.”

Only it wasn’t a shirt. You had been so preoccupied with looking your best, you had completely forgone any practicalities for why you were actually here. The lightweight sundress slipped off your shoulders with a whisper and suddenly, the tension in the room became very palpable.

Taking a deep breath in, you braced your shoulders and forced yourself to meet his gaze. Boba did not say anything and just as quickly as your courage had come, it disappeared like the sugar in your tea.

What if he didn’t like what he saw?

“So … Would you like me to explain the process again?”

Your gaze snatched up and this time, the heat in his eyes was undeniable as he allowed his eyes to linger on your chest. Thank the stars.

“Yes, please,” you whispered, very aware that you were sitting bare-chested in front of a man who was old enough to be your father. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you were questioning which choices in life had brought you here. But did you actually care?

No, not really.

Touch me, touch me, touch me.

“Are you okay there?”

“Huh?”

Mirth played in his eyes. “Do you want me to touch you, princess?”

The Yes you breathed out was barely audible over the pounding of your heart, but it was loud enough for him to hear your eagerness. You watched as he set the black gloves aside, his bare hands reaching for your tits and you could not wait to feel his touch.

He rewarded your sharp inhale by cupping your breast in the warm palm of his hand. His skin was calloused and it felt so fucking good to have him finally touch you. Your legs spread out of their own accord and you hummed when he stepped closer, his other hand landing on your waist, right above where your dress was falling into your lap.

“Good girl,” he murmured and your heart skipped a beat, “So fucking pretty.”

The second his fingers lightly pinched your nipple, a shudder went through your entire body and settled between your legs. You were pretty sure it had been a while since you had been this wet for anyone and somehow, this man had your toes curling in a matter of minutes.

“Are you ready?”

Images flashed in your mind but instead of the steamy scenes you dreamed about starring you and him, they contained silver needles, pain, and, in the end, a disappointed look in the mirror.

“I – I changed my mind,” you whispered into the small space between your mouths, “I am not ready.”

Boba did not look the least bit surprised. There was a knowing look in his eyes as he gave your right breast a last squeeze before hooking his fingers under the straps of your dress, gently raising them back over your shoulders.

He stepped away and you followed, sliding off the leathery fabric.

“Have a good day, princess,” he opened the curtain for you, the buzz of the tattoo guns back in your ears, “You know where to find me.”

*

“Do you want me to explain it again?”

You shook your head.

It was a week later, and you had left your pretence that you were here for a piercing, at the doorbell. It was surprisingly freeing and exhilarating at the same time. So, what if you went to a tattoo parlour to be felt up by the handsome older man who owned it without any intention of actually getting a tattoo or piercing? Anyone who would judge you for this would understand as soon as they saw Boba Fett smile at them.

And so, you were just sitting in the private cabin, anticipation making your heart race as his hands settled on your waist.

“You just want me to touch you, huh?”

After an embarrassed pause, you nodded, teeth worrying your bottom lip.

“It's okay,” he murmured, “I can touch you, princess. I like touching you.”

The older man’s words should not make you feel so warm but they did. It was a Tuesday afternoon and you were sitting half naked in a tattoo studio, wanting to be felt up by this man you barely knew but who had already taken over all of your dreams and fantasies.

Boba wore a black shirt today and it looked so soft to the touch you were this close to hug yourself to him and smooth your cheek over the fabric. But that plan was derailed the moment the top of your flimsy sundress fell down your chest, baring you to his eyes and the warm air of the shop.

Calloused fingertips crushed the undersides of your tits and over your pebbled nipples. Your eyes fluttered, a dreamy sigh escaping your lips as you arched your back into him. Even (or maybe especially?) the feather-light touch made your core pulse and made you want to squeeze your thighs together.

“You’re so sensitive,” he marvelled, his hands cupping your tits, “Have they always been this sensitive, sweetheart?"

It took you a moment to realise he was waiting for an answer. “No, uh, I – I didn’t really know … I didn’t know it could be like that. No one … Uh, I never really …”

The man opposite you looked up from where he was sitting between your legs. The skirt of your sundress draped between your thighs, covering the wet patch that clearly could be seen on your panties. “Are you telling me no one ever played with these pretty tits?”

His question was accompanied by a roll of your nipple between his fingers. “Boba,” you gasped, arching your back into his touch.

“Don’t Boba me,” he chastised you, pulling on the flesh, “Answer the question, little one.”

“No!” you gasped out. Embarrassment made your ears hot, you weren’t used to dirty talk though it was always something you had wanted to try. But none of your previous partners had made you feel comfortable enough to … well, to talk. And here you were with basically a stranger and you felt more comfortable than you had ever been.

“No,” you confirmed quietly, “no one’s ever … played with me like that.”

The whispered confession between the two of you unlocked something different. Boba exhaled, his body curling around yours as his mouth dipped to your sternum.

“Stars, I bet you're a dream to fuck,” he murmured, his fingers squeezing your tits, “I’d have so much pleasure to give you.”

“Please,” you whispered, hardly recognising your own voice. Your eyes flew open at the realisation that you wanted this. You wanted him to fuck you.

You watched with wide eyes and baited breath as he stood up, his hands still on your chest and he bowed down until his lips met yours. He was kissing you.

The kiss started out soft and slow before his tongue swiped over the seam of your lips and you opened up form. Your entire body was tingling with the need to be closer. Closer to this solid, warm body of a man who made you feel like you were the only woman in the world.

Pressing your chest against his, you smiled into the kiss as his hands left your chest and ran down your sides until they settled on your hips, pulling you to the edge of the workbench. He was so warm, it did not even feel like you were sitting topless in a small office in a public shop.

Mid-kiss it occurred to you that this was your first kiss with Boba. And oh, what a good kisser he was. A hand on the back of your head tilted your face, your noses bumping together for a second, eliciting chuckles from both of your before he tilted your head just so and then his mouth was on your and his tongue was there and you could not help but to surrender to him. Boba had everything under control and you would not have it any other way.

A knock at the door made you flinch.

Boba stepped even closer to your, shielding you with his body even when the door remained closed. “What?” he asked, loud enough to be heard outside but the hoarseness of his voice did not escape you.

You smiled into the crook of his neck, running your mouth up to his jaw and you could hear the rumble in his chest before his fingers tilted your chin up and his mouth was on you again.

“Lunch break is over, boss,” a deep voice sounded from outside, “Your three o’clock is here.”

You whined against his mouth when he slowly backed away from you.

“Fuck off, Vizsla,” Boba called, “I’ll be there in a minute.”

The more time you spent with Boba, the more time you needed to get out of your lust-sick haze with him. Usually, you left the shop on a high, with a dreamy smile on your face and a pleasant thrum between your thighs. But somehow, the reminder that there were customers waiting for him, set you in a sort of panic you could not quite describe.

You wanted to hurry in getting yourself presentable again, mumbling something about “getting out of your hair” to Boba.

But Boba would not hear any of it. “There is no hair to get out of, princess,” he joked as he gently helped you to your feet, before hooking his fingers into the shoulder straps of your dress. You took a deep breath as he lifted the top of your dress in place for you, his fingers brushing over your shoulders, down your arms before entwining with your hands.

It somehow felt even more intimate than when he had played with you. Pulling on your hands, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips and you felt even more dazed. To be honest, you could fall asleep standing right there in his arms.

Boba accompanied you through the workroom, nodding in greeting to who you assumed was his next customer, until you were standing outside. He sent you off with a wink, this time, and a lingering touch on your waist. “See you next Tuesday.”

*

He was working on someone else.

It shouldn’t have been a shocking sight to see. He was a tattoo artist for fucks sake. Of course, he worked on other people. He must’ve worked on dozens – hundreds – of people. That is how he earned his money, how he honed his craft. You had seen the social media posts about the shop and on some of them you not only got to see the actual art piece but also the artist. And sometimes, the artist was Boba.

The time you had spent scrolling through Fett’s Tattoo Corner’s social media page was almost concerning but you categorized it as research. Research in case you ever wanted to get a tattoo or a piercing. It had nothing to do with the fact that seeing his proud smile on your screen made your heart flutter and your stomach do somersaults.

But as you watched him talk and laugh with the woman on the table, you felt an unknown sense of dread in your stomach.

Suddenly you felt silly in your outfit that you had panicked over for the last 72 hours and the nail polish you had picked to go with your sundress and the extra care you had taken with your hair and –

“Looks who's here,” he greeted you, pulling off the black gloves and the sight should not have been as sexy as it was. “Ready for our lunch break?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

He paused, his eyes never leaving yours as he threw the gloves in the bin, not missing his goal even though he was looking at someone else. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” you replied, instantly feeling stupid again. There was no reason to be jealous. He wasn’t even yours to be jealous about. For all you knew, he wasn’t even single. Your blood froze.

For all you knew he wasn’t even single?!

Boba came closer, his scent washing over you and your body fought the urge to step away from him, to clear your head, and to step closer, to lose yourself in the sense of belonging you felt only with him.

“Do I need to spank the brattiness out of you, princess?” he rumbled. His voice was deep and serious and you gulped, feeling the dread morph into something more … hot.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you murmured, avoiding his gaze. Which also meant you did not see when his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him so his hand could slide down to your ass. Your eyes widened at the touch but you welcomed it still, your entire body heating up at the attention. Being touched by him in public felt like he was laying a claim on you.

You wanted his claim on you. Just as much as you wanted your claim on him.

“I think you do,” he replied immediately, his eyes on your lips, “But I am hungry, so we are going to order food first before you tell me how I upset you and how I can make it up to you.”

Just like last time had marked your first kiss, Boba seemed on a mission to cross another first off your list.

The food was delicious, Boba had it delivered to the shop and you sat in comfortable silence while sharing some spring rolls and noodles. You had been nervous, at first, at the prospect of sharing a meal with him. What if you didn’t have anything to talk about? What if it was awkward? What if your chemistry only translated to the purely physical part?

But your worries were completely unfounded. Boba talked about his day, asked about yours and you realized that all the small talk at the beginning of your sessions hadn’t been small talk at all. He had been interested. He remembered things (the course you were o stressed about, the project you wanted to submit to your faculty, that half-friend’s birthday party coming up and you were still unsure if you wanted to go or not.) and in return, you remembered them too.

He did not seem to think you weird when you asked about the half finished sleeve he had been working on these past few weeks, his smile was bright when you asked him about his favourite tattoos (both on him and ones he had designed) and there was a rush of heat to your cheeks when he lifted his sleeve in response, showing off a traditional shoulder tattoo that must extend to his chest.

(You really wanted to see his chest.)

When you were finished with the food, Boba set the containers down, crowding you against the table. Your hand automatically went to your neckline, wanting to pull it down for him.

“No need,” he shook his head with a smirk, “I believe I promised you a spanking?”

You gaped at him. For one, you had been so happy with the meal, that you had already forgotten how jealous you had been at the beginning and, to be honest, you had not thought he was actually serious. But as you searched your mind for words of protest, you also had to squeeze your legs together at the wetness you could feel gathering in your panties.

So, all you did was nod, swallowing down the sound of excitement.

Boba rewarded you with his signature smirk. “Turn around for me,” he murmured, so close you could feel his breath on your face.

You did as he asked, your body brushing against his for the whole turn until your ass was pressed right against him. It should not have come as a surprise that a man who exuded so much big dick energy was also packing but somehow, the confirmation that Boba Fett was packing made you even wetter.

“If you want me to stop, say Sandwich, okay?"

You nodded, biting your lip. You were 85% convinced you wouldn’t need him to stop, the

A large hand on your upper back slowly pushed you down until you were bent over his desk. Dress you were wearing brushing your ass, highly aware of the lacy panties you had worn. (just for him). His hand palmed your ass, fingertips brushing against the hem of your panties, lifting your dress up and over.

“You just need someone to take care of that pretty ass,” he rumbled, “should apologize for neglecting it but who can blame me if I had such pretty tits to play with, hm?”

Words made you shiver in anticipation. Didn’t know what to say but felt so … wanted.

“You want to tell me why you were jealous today?”

Your denial was immediate. “I wasn’t jealous.”

A heavy hand landed on your ass in a slap and you gasped, throwing a glance over your shoulder to find a grinning Boba, his hand still squeezing the soft flesh of your behind. The angle made you think of other things he could do in this position and you felt so embarrassed of the filthy thoughts, you had to turn away.

“I know a lie when I hear one, sweetheart,” he stated, followed by another slap, “It is never too late to tell the truth.”

You got nine spanks in total.

Only a few of them stung but all of them resulted in your pussy clenching around nothing. You were convinced he could have put more behind his hands. But he didn’t. Boba used every opportunity to caress your ass and upper thighs and you almost came on the spot when he knelt behind you, his breath washing over your panties and you knew he was eye-level with the wet patch that was surely visible by now.

“Don’t ever think, I don’t want you,” he said, his mouth brushing the crease where your thighs met your behind, “I always want you, princess.”

Heat filled your cheeks and you squirmed against him. You could have cried from frustration when he stood up, gently putting your skirt back in place but when you turned around there was a look in his eyes that made your breath stutter.

Brown eyes warmly gazed at you and your heart skipped a beat. “I want you too,” you confessed, “I’m sorry I was so jealous.”

“Never be sorry,” he shook his head, kissing you softly, “It just means I didn’t do a good enough job of assuring you that I have no intention of spending my Tuesday afternoons with anyone but you.”

You wanted to ask him if he really meant it but somehow, a look at him was enough to know that, yes, he meant it.

“C’mon,” he nodded his head to the door, “I took a half-day. Let me drive you home, princess.”

*

Things were getting more and more heated.

Every Tuesday, like clockwork, you would show up at the shop. Oftentimes, Boba would have bought lunch for the both of you, a different cuisine every time, trying, as he put it, to find the perfect restaurant for date night.

“Who do you have to take out for date night”?” you tried to both joke and hide the panic in your voice in between bites of your burrito.

“You, princess,” he had replied with a wink, “If you’ll have me.”

It was impossible to hide the grin on your face as you slipped into his lap. Food forgotten, you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him. You could feel his stubble against your skin and his hands on your back, helping you grind against him.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Boba murmured as you shimmied out of your dress. You had decided against wearing a bra today. It had felt like your naughty little secret for the entire day and the appreciative look in Boba’s eyes was more than worth it.

Big hands cupped your tits again, pulling on your pebbled nipples and you gasped into his mouth.

“I – I don’t think I want them pierced,” you confessed between kisses, eyes half-closing at the way he was playing with you.

Boba looked at you, a smirk on his face that was way too smug considering he was supposed to be but a stranger two months ago. “So, you’re just letting this old man play with you for fun?”

The question made your breath stop for a second because … he was right. You were letting him play with you for fun. Because it made you wet and fuelled your fantasies and you had never felt so wanted than when you spent lunch in his office.

A shy nod later, he rewarded you with a twist of your nipple, and you gasped, your hips rocking forward to see some friction. “Easy there,” he rumbled, “We’re gonna work your way up to taking my cock. For now, I have too much fun playing with these.”

No matter how needy you were, you did enjoy the fact that he took his time with you. You could not remember the last time you spent hours kissing and being touched by someone who did not expect anything in return. (Although you were more than willing to get on your knees for him, it seemed Boba was not ready to let you out of his grasp yet.)

“I get it, though,” he said, his whole hand cupping and squeezing your breast, “I have had enough painful piercings myself. I wouldn’t want my nipples pierced either.”

“Oh,” you breathed against his mouth, moaning into the kiss, “What – uh – what do you have pierced then?”

A pierced eyebrow shot up with his grin and he leant away. You watched in equal parts fascination and shock as his large hand went to his crotch where his jeans covered an impressive bulge. The position of his hand put the back of it right against your core and you could not help but rock against him, the friction against your clit making your toes tense.

“Got a ladder, here, sweetheart,” he revealed, “now that was painful.”

It took you a moment to realize what he meant. What did a ladder have to do with piercings? And specifically, with his crotch? The realization dropped like a penny and your eyes widened as you took in his meaning.

“You mean … on your ….?” Boba nodded his head at your unfinished question and you suddenly found yourself very interested in finally seeing him in all his glory.

“Can I see?”

“Nah, princess,” he chuckled, taking his hand away and pulling on your hip until you were settled right above him, “The only way you get to see my jewellery is if I get to see yours.”

Your shoulders sagged. You knew it had been too good to be true when he had accepted your decision not to get pierced. In a long row of selfish sexual partners, Boba suddenly found himself in line with the guy who had dropped his wish for anal sex five times on a dinner date.

“They're so pretty,” you admitted, “I just don’t know if I want something permanent.”

“That is not what I meant. It’s an easy fix, princess,” he rumbled, his thumb brushing under your right breast. “We’ll just get some clamps for these, princess.”

*

Tuesday was a sunny day, not a cloud in the sky, and everyone and their mother spent the day outside in the cafés, the park, by the riverside. It was the kind of weather you missed when the cold winter days locked you inside.

Yet you could not wait to make your way inside. The familiar sound of the buzzing tattoo guns and chattering client did not even register with you anymore because you had one goal, one destination, as you crossed the shop to the office where you could see Boba sitting through the open door.

“There you are,” Boba gifted you the widest smile, looking up from the paperwork on his desk as you walked into his office. You felt so confident that no one even questioned your presence here so you no longer questioned your presence here either.

And now you got to see him in his element, surrounded by papers, bills and half-finished tattoo designs. “Do you want me to come back later?”

“Stars no,” he laughed at your joke, sorting some papers before orderly putting them in a drawer. His desk suddenly was completely free, except for a small package. The package, you presumed.

“You nervous?” he asked.

You took a moment to mull his question over. Were you nervous? Yes, but you were nervous a lot of the time when it came to him. But every time, your time together was so nice, so fulfilling in more ways than one, you felt more …

“Excited, to be honest,” you admitted, stepping into the room and locked the door behind you. By the knowing look the staff sent you, it was clear they knew not to disturb you, but you wanted to make sure there was no Paz Vizsla storming into the office the moment you could finally feel Boba’s cock inside you.

“Me too,” he smiled and shuffled the package until it was right in the centre. One already opened package. You raised your eyebrows, unable to hide your amusement. “It arrived this morning and I could not wait,“ he admitted, “I wanted to make sure they were exactly what I imagined for you.”

No one had ever bought things of a sexual nature for you. The closest you came to something like that was a gift card to a lingerie story from one of your eyes. That had been exciting until it turned out that he didn’t like the lingerie you had bought for him. Then it had just been awkward.

But you knew it would never be awkward with Boba. Somehow, you just knew.

You watched in anticipation as he lifted his hands out of the package, revealing what he had gotten for you. “It’s beautiful,” you gasped as you took it all in for the first time.

The piece in question were two nipple clamps, connected by a thin chain. They were golden and had little pink bows on them. And from the bows seemed to be hanging …

He shook them gently, a tinkling sound filling the room. “They have bells,” you whispered reverently, approaching him with a raised hand. Boba dropped the piece in your palm and you inspected them closer. “It is beautiful,” you repeated, completely in awe.

“I am glad you like them,” he replied, “I thought they fit to you.”

“Do … can you put them on me?” you asked, the ache in your chest making you squeeze your thighs.

“Don’t you want to eat first?”

The shake of your head made him smirk, “Thought so.” He stood up and gestured to the table you were now more than familiar with, “Go ahead and sit for me. Do you feel comfortable taking the dress off all the way?”

Forgoing an answer, you simply let the dress fall down to the floor. Like last time, you had decided not to wear a bra – not when you knew what was in store for you, anyway, and so you stood in front of him in your thong and nothing else.

Boba’s eyes darkened and he surged forward, kissing you passionately. Teeth clashed and tongues entwined and you felt like you would implode at any moment if he didn’t touch you. You pressed your chest against him, trying to deepen the kiss but Boba pulled away with a grin, delivering a spank to your ass just moments later, and you whined, “Boba, please …”

The big man took a step forward, forcing you back until you bumped into the workbench and sat on it, spreading your legs for him to stand in between. “Fuck,” he cursed, palming your tits, “You are so pretty, gonna look even prettier when I am done with you.”

Your heart was racing as he played with your chest. His fingers rolled your nipples, his tongue darted out to lick over them and by the time he lifted the chain into your view, you were almost crazy with desire. You both watched in silent fascination as he put the first clamp on you.

“Fuck,” this time it was your turn to curse. The pain was uncomfortable for long a moment before it became a delicious thrum of pleasure. Quickly, Boba put the second clamp on, and it was easier now that you knew what to expect. When he was done, you could feel the cool metal of the chain against your skin, the soft fabric of the bows brushing against you and everything on your body felt like it was there to pleasure you.

“You look so pretty for me, little one,” he praised you, “You’re being such a good girl for me.”

You tried to ignore how his praise made your core clench and when he took a step away, it worked because you immediately missed the warmth of his body. The distance was worth it, though when he looked at you, clearly affected by the sight of you as you were affected by him.

The cool air on your chest took away the edge of pain on your nipples though it also made you highly aware of the cool metal slowly warming to your body temperature. And Boba was still just looking at you.

A few minutes in, you grew restless. “Boba?” you asked, crossing your ankles, causing your chest to move. A wave of pain and pleasure, mixed together in a heady cocktail, washed over you and you gasped. Holy shit.

“Bounce them for me.”

“Wh-What?”

“Bounce your tits for me, princess,” he repeated calmly, crossing his thick arms in front of his chest, “I want to see them bounce.”

It felt exposing and new and strange and yet it sent a thrill through you, the way he was so cool. And so, you started to shake sour chest for him. At first, you just made tiny movements. You had never really “bounced your tits” for anyone and you felt a bit silly doing it. But what you had not considered was that gravity would pull on the clamps attached to you and oh my, now that was a sensation. The stimulation of your nipples increased together with the little bells ringing every time you moved and you were pretty sure you got even wetter.

It felt so taboo and so thrilling and who would have thought two months ago that you sit in the office of this older tattoo artist, letting him order you around like you were for his pleasure only?

 His pupils dilated and your eyes fell to the bulge in his jeans. “Pretty as a picture.”

“Open your mouth for me.”

You did as he said, opening your mouth for him as your eyes fell to his hand. Boba sounded amused and hoarse as he approached you. “You want my fingers?”

You were still bouncing for him, your chest aching for his touch, when you nodded. Stars, you felt filthy but in the very best way. Even better than that, to be honest, when his fingers pushed into your mouth and you got to suck on them immediately.

“You just need someone to take care of you, don’t you?” he asked you, his rough fingers pushing down onto your tongue. You followed his movements, your tongue slipping out of your mouth as he smeared your drool over your lips. The sound of bells kept ringing in your ears and you were sure he had a wet patch on his desk now from where you were soaking through your panties.

“You wanted to show me,” you gasped in one of those moments when his fingers left your mouth.

“What? What did I want to show you?” he teased you, his fingers finding their way back into your mouth, “Use your words.”

“You wanted to show me your piercings,” you whispered around his thick digits, “o-on your cock.”

You mourned your empty mouth for just a second when you realised why Boba had stepped away and sat down in his office chair. The movements of his hands were hypnotizing when he took off his shirt, revealing a thick upper body littered with tattoos. Tattoos, you didn’t focus on because just a moment later he pulled down his zipper and the edge of his boxers.

His cock was massive just as you had expected, but the real star(s) of the show was the glinting metal embedded in his shaft. Didn’t that hurt?

“Oh, it did,” he chuckled, his finger grazing over the ladder, “But it was worth it, believe me.”

Sitting on the padded bench, there was nothing to cover you except for a lacy thing and the jewellery adorning your nipples. Boba was opposite you, his barrel chest on display, his cock out of his jeans and you could not take your eyes off him. How long had you waited for this moment? How nervous had you been?

None of that seemed to matter because all you could focus on was how the older man stroked his dick in front of you. How his hand twisted around his shaft, how his fingers ran over the mushroom head down his shaft to cup his heavy balls. You felt electrified and frozen with want at the same time. You wanted – needed – to feel him. In you, against you, next to you, however he saw fit.

You just needed –

“Boba, please,” you pleaded, the little jingle of the bells underlining your desperation.

“C’mere,” he curled to fingers and you basically skipped the tree steps into his lap.

“Take this off,” he ordered, his hands helping yours take off the last piece of clothing until you were standing completely bare in front of him. You had never felt both so exposed and so hot. “Now sit down.”

You sat down on the edge of his lap and Boba dragged you closer until your pussy was right against the underside of his shaft, nestled against the barbells. “Now, keep bouncing, princess,” he grinned, “I don’t remember telling you to stop.”

Your cheeks heated at his request. You knew what he was planning and were sure you had never done anything as dirty. But maybe that was exactly what appealed to you.

The first bounce, just as expected, caused you to grind against his pierced cock. It was a sensation, unlike anything you had ever felt before. It was better than anything you had ever felt before. With just a few grinds, your wetness was coating him, easing your movements as your clit bumped into the ridges again and again and again.

You panted into his mouth, your chest so sensitive that when it brushed his, you could not help but whimper and also grind down harder. You needed more of his piercings, of his touch on your hips, of everything. And you were so fucking close, you could practically see the cliff you were about to fall over.

“There we go,” he rumbled, “Make yourself come for me.” “Does that feel good?”

Unable to speak, all you could do was nod eagerly as your desire finally cumulated in the orgasm of your life. You shook on top of him, clenching around nothing as your clit continued to rub against his shaft and the metal embedded in it.

“There we fucking go,” he praised you, guiding you to lift your hips until his tip notched at your entrance, “Ready to take me?”

You nodded in a daze, anticipation making you feel both hot and cold. You sank down on him slowly, letting your body adjust to the big stretch around his tip before the first barbell entered you. You inhaled sharply, your thigh straining with the effort of remaining upright while your pussy strained with the effort of taking someone as large as him.

“How does it feel?”

“Different,” you gasped, “Big. I – stars, Boba, what if it doesn’t fit?”

A sudden panic gripped you as the second barbell entered you, your walls taking even longer to adjust to his girth. How many barbells did he have again? How were you supposed to take him completely when you already felt so full, you could feel it in your belly?

His large hand swept down your back and around until his thumb grazed over your clit, the touch instantly making you clamp around him. “You’re doing so well,” he assured you, “You can take all of me, little one, I know you can.”

With a bite of your lip, you threw your head back, enjoying his fingers on your clit as you steadily opened up for him. Each time a piercing passed you, it sent a wave of goosebumps down your body.

A simultaneous tug on your nipples made you look up. Your gaze met Boba’s twinkling eyes as he gently hooked a thick finger under the chain, pulling on it. Seeing him play with you so blatantly made you whine, your walls milking him.

“I know baby, I know,” he murmured in that calm voice of his, “just a little more, princess. You can do it.”

The glide of your movements got easier, your wetness seeping down your thighs and before you knew it, your ass was settled against his thighs and your pussy filled to the brim with his cock.

“Stars,” you breathed, eyes brimming with tears of overwhelming pleasure. Had already come once but now felt a second wave coming on, with no way of stopping it.

“You’re my best girl,” Boba kissed you softly, “I told you, you could take it all and you did. So …. So fucking good for me.” His thighs shifted under you, his legs spread and you squeaked in the resulting bounce.

“You’re such a pretty mess for me” he commented, leaning back and letting his eyes lazily roam over you. His cool demeanour made you even wetter. The way he was so in control, so naturally in charge, meant that you did not feel insecure in any way. Quite the opposite: You felt free.

“Boba,” you gasped, “I am so full.”

And you were. You were, at that moment, utterly convinced that you had never experienced a fullness like this, even with that new vibrator you had gotten yourself in a feeble attempt to manage the lust this man evoked in you. It was the best thing you had ever felt, being stretched to your limit around his thick shaft.

And the piercings!

Oh, the piercings were even better, stimulating you from the inside out and with you bouncing in him, your chest rubbing against his, you were positively overstimulated. Tears were gathering at the corners of your eyes but you did not want to change a thing, no, you wanted to feel like this for as long as possible.

“It’s adorable how much of a slut you are for me,” Boba rumbled in your ear, his mouth trailing hot kisses down your jaw, “Think you can come for me again, princess? Want to feel you clench around me when I come inside you.”

It was the mention of him coming inside you – something you had never done, and never had wanted to do, with any of your previous partners but which suddenly was the only way you wanted to experience this with Boba – that made you come. Stars erupted behind your eyes and your walls clenched, your entire body erupting in pleasure.

You barely managed a “Boba!” before your moan was swallowed by his kiss.

His grip on your hips tightened as he slammed you down on him, his tip reaching even deeper than before. “Stars, yes, that’s what I'm talking about,” he praised you.

The feeling of him pulsing inside you, filling you with his come, was one you never ever wanted to forget. How could you have gone for so long without feeling this blissful? How could the world outside go on as if nothing had happened – as if you just hadn’t had the most mind-blowing sex of your life?

Your legs still twitched, your body not knowing what to do with all the adrenaline that still coursed through you. But as the sensations slowly faded away, the clamps tipped on the side of pain.

“Shhh,” Boba calmed you, his moth still against yours, “I will take them off and it will sting, okay? But I am right here with you, I’ll get you through this, okay?”

You nodded because you trusted him.

Just as he had said, the rush of blood back into your nipples was painful and unlike anything you had experienced before. A whimper slipped out of your mouth and you took a deep breath, trying to breathe through the pain.

Boba kissed you softly and his hands reached up to massage your chest. You were not sure if that helped or made it worse but when he ducked his head so his mouth could gently close around one nipple, his tongue did magical things for you. The pain lessened with each passing minute and once Boba’s mouth had left you, it had been more pleasure than pain.

As the pain steadily subsided, you could feel your chest and breathing slowing down. The overwhelming sensations ebbed away until all you felt was the serene calm that only followed a really nice orgasm.

Boba reached down to the side of the chair and with how he was still inside you, the shift made another pulse of pleasure course through you. You bit your lip, highly aware of your combined juices still inside you. You watched as he pulled his shirt off the floor and over his head. It was the soft black one, the one that you had wondered about before.

This time, you allowed your intrusive thoughts to win and leant onto his chest, tucking your face into the crook of his back.

But your enthusiasm rushed your movement and the office chair you were now both sitting on started rolling backwards. You panicked for a second, your hands clenching into fists. Shit, were you about to fall?

But of course, you weren’t. The chair stopped moving after an inch or so and you could feel both your and Boba’s bodies relax.

“Careful there, little one,” Boba chuckled, his hand gripping your elbow gently. You could not believe how shaky you still felt. Your world was reeling and he didn’t even sound out of breath.

The silence that followed felt pleasant. You listened to your own heartbeat slowly starting to return to a normal pace as Boba’s hand swept over your back. Up and down up and down up and down until you were sure you could fall asleep against him any minute despite your legs feeling like jelly and his come trickling down your thighs.

“Don’t you have an appointment soon?” your question was muffled against the soft fabric covering his chest but you did not have the strength nor the willpower to turn your face so you could speak clearly. You wanted to remain in this cocoon forever.

Boba’s movements did not cease. “Nah, I had Paz take them over,” he revealed, “I wanted to have time for you.”

The thought was so sweet, it made your chest clench and your mouth inevitably turn into a smile. “That is really thoughtful,” you whispered.

“I would never leave you like that after finally feeling you squeeze around me,” Boba grumbled, his mouth brushing against your temple, “You’re not getting rid of me now, princess.”

And you really did not want to.

You could not tell how long you remained like this in his arms and, to be honest, you also did not really care. All you wanted was to soak up every bit of warmth and affection he had to give. But, inevitably, you could tell time was passing when there was a discreet knock on the door.

“’m afraid you’re needed outside, boss,” you recognized Vizsla’s voice again before you could hear footsteps walking away.

You sighed, straightening up and starting to straighten yourself out. Boba helped you, handing you your dress and pressing a kiss to your shoulder when the fabric fell over you again.

“So,” he cleared his throat, “I would very much like to take you out sometime, princess. Properly. Dinner and dessert and everything.”

There was no hiding the smile that spread across your lips. “I’d like that very much,” you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck, “When can we go?”

“Tonight?” Boba suggested with a smile, “I’d lie if I said I wouldn’t want to take you out right now but I fear Paz might stop me at the door.”

He opened the door for you and you both slipped out of his office, his hand on your lower back as he led you through the busy workspace. Nobody paid attention to you but you saw a knowing look on Paz’s face that made you shuffle closer to Boba.

The air outside was crisp and you instantly wished yourself back into Boba’s arms. You came to a stop just outside the shop entrance.

“Do you think they still expect me to get my nipples pierced?” you tried to joke, wanting to prolong the moment before you had to say goodbye.

“Who are we kidding, princess,” Boba’s hand on your hip felt warm and steady as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “You don’t want piercings but you do want mine.”

[artificial-transmutations]

4k! Dropout Dorm 1

Hey guys! And there is even more big news today!

It seems like yesterday I celebrated 3k followers, and now, all of a sudden, I have just reached 4k! Honestly, I'm at a loss for words. I'm really happy (and a bit bewildered) that so many of you want to read my stories!

As a celebration, I will receive one previously exclusive four-part story from my once membership site (now a tip jar) here on tumblr, with new pictures! The writing is more than a year old, but I decided not to adjust it to preserve the original charm, so please don't mind the rough edges here and there. And now, enjoy

Dropout Dorm

The line in front of Marvin was long and Marvin was unhappy with himself. He should have come earlier! Who could have known that it was customary to be that early for dorm room assignment? Well, that was an easy question. Obviously, every student in front of him. 

He wasn't technically the last one to arrive, since there was one other guy that came even later, but the two of them marked the end of the queue. The student behind him, a brown haired young man with a narrow face, studied him carefully, before extending a hand.

"Hi!", he said. "I'm Aiden."

"Marvin", answered Marvin. He wasn't the outgoing type.

"Pleased to meet you, Marvin!", Aiden smiled. "So, we'll be rooming together, I suppose."

"We are?" How did Aiden know?

"I'm pretty sure we are." Aiden nodded. "College rules dictate that rooming is determined by order of appearance on the registration day. Since there are 84 people in the line in front of you, and always two are called into the office at a time, it is only logical that we will be roommates."

That made sense. Marvin didn't bother to count the line yet, but he wasn't entirely unhappy. The person directly in front of him looked like the typical meathead jock type, while the thin man behind him proved that he was capable of logic reasoning.

So, Marvin smiled. "Great. I'm looking forward to it, you seem like a good roommate! I'm majoring in computer sciences, what about you?"

Aiden grinned. "Mathematics. Sorry, that's hard to hide for me."

The grin was genuine, and Marvin and Aiden used the waiting time to get to know each other better. To Marvin's delight, Aiden was quite nerdy himself and wasn't keen on partying or taking girls home - which qualified him as a good rooming choice even more. 

Finally, they were called into the secretary’s office, where a woman with large glasses looked at them.

"You are the last ones?"

Marvin nodded and the woman sighed.

"Good. Well, here is the bad news: You too should look for a room elsewhere, outside the campus."

Marvin was confused. Why was that?

Aiden verbalized his question: "Why? Aren't there any rooms left?"

The woman sighed again. "Technically, there is one room left, and you can have it, but... room 148 has a bit of a bad reputation."

"How can a room have a bad reputation?" Aiden asked quizzically.

"Look, the room is called the 'dropout dorm'. For whatever reason, no student that ever took that room graduated. Most dropped out in the same or the following semester.

Aiden looked at Marvin, who, in turn looked at Aiden. How to put it delicately, Marvin asked himself, but Aiden was quicker again, just being honest:

"So, it's just superstition?"

The woman shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe. Maybe not. I can only tell you what happened to students in the years before."

"Did you always offer this room last?" Marvin asked and the woman nodded. He exchanged another look with Aiden and then smiled. "Thank you for your concerns, but I think we'll take the risk."

After the formalities were over, they got their keys and went up to their new room. It was located on the second floor, and when Aiden opened the door, he saw a big window facing the lake and the sun shining brightly through it.

"So, why do you think this is the 'dropout dorm'?" Aiden asked.

Marvin smiled. "Because it is the 'dropout dorm'. You see, there had probably been one or two dropouts in this room. Then, someone decided that the room was bad luck or something like that, and they started to offer it to the last students. Now, usually, the last ones in line are those students who care about their studies the least."

"Except in this year" Aiden added.

"Exactly. So, it became a self-fulfilling prophecy. They gave the 'dropout dorm' to the students with the worst starting conditions, and they dropped out, fueling the myth of the 'dropout dorm'."

"Flawless reasoning", Aiden congratulated. "Now, do you have a preference on which side of the room you want?"

Both young men settled in quickly and moved their stuff to their dorm room over the course of the day. It wasn't a bad room at all: It had a small bathroom with a shower, and a nice view from the window. Most importantly, though, it had two nice, big desks, which were quickly filled with books on Aiden's side of the room, and a powerful PC on Marvin's side. The day passed quickly, and it became time for bed. 

Aiden was slightly amused, as Marvin went into the bathroom to get changed and emerged in pajamas. He certainly didn't judge Marvin for being an introvert, but Aiden had given up pajamas a few years ago and slept in boxers since then. Still, that was nothing of his business.

Both their dreams were restless and although Aiden couldn't remember what exactly he had dreamed off, when he woke up the next morning to the sound of the shower running, he found himself with a bad case of morning wood. It was rare for Aiden to be aroused, but right now, he felt outright horny. His dick throbbed against his boxers and the outline was clearly visible since he had untangled himself from his blanked in his sleep. He just hoped that Marvin hadn't noticed.

When Aiden accidentally brushed against his erection, that was already forming a wet patch in his boxers from precum, he would have almost moaned out load. Damn, was this thing sensitive today. He looked at the bathroom. Marvin had left the door open, probably by accident. He could see the naked body of the other man moving under the stream of water and quickly drew back his head.

It looked like Marvin would still be busy for a while, so this was his chance! Aiden quickly disposed of his boxers and wrapped his right hand around his member, careful not to make noise. It was really difficult since he wanted to moan loudly so bad, but he could control himself. 

He quickly moved his hand up and down, rolling back his eyes. This felt just so good! Wave after wave of pleasure rocked through him and he was already close when he heard the water stop. It took an awful lot of willpower to pry his hand from his prick for a moment, to peek at the bathroom door. Marvin was drying up. If he hurried up, he still had time to finish. His hand went back to his erection, and he pumped on. He threw his head back as he came - in complete silence, but with wide spurts all over his chest.

Aiden had no time to recover though, as only a split second later, Marvin stepped out of the bathroom. Lightning-fast, Aiden covered himself with the blanket, soiling it with his cum in the process. Marvin hadn't seen anything, right?

"Good morning!" Marvin said, the towel around his hips, but stopped in the middle of the room. "Does it smell weird here?"

Stay tuned for the rest of the short series, following Marvin and Aiden on their inevitable journey, posted soon.

Read the next part here