#and the week before was holiday so no session

[lynxgirlpaws]

>:(

[stellewriites]

fuck me.. work tonight was so draining like i suddenly remember why i moved into admin a few years ago now. let me never complain about my job again

[likeawolfatthemoon]

just told my not-boyfriend whatever person that ive been referring to him as my partner at work bc i was not about to explain our weird fwb situation to professional office company, especially when it includes 50 something year old men

and he.......was okay with it..........

not sure what to make of this

[simpjaes]

BIG D*CK FOR DUMMIES (s.jy)

The one where you find out that your boyfriend has a huge cock and you’re not entirely sure if you can take all of it. 

MDNI!!! | pls leave feedback and reblog your fave writers!

PAIRING ― jaeyun x afab reader  

WORDCOUNT ― 2.4k

CONTENT ―  first time, established relationship, top jaeyun, painful sex

NOTE ― this was originally written for a different idol on my other blog [ncteez] but i pictured jake in that one en o’clock episode doing this and went feral so……here’s ur giant package. 

smut tags― he’s a little cocky (lmao), i guess you could say size kink but it’s more like huge cock / tiny pussy size kink, theres some crying, praising, reader gets off like almost instantly and becomes incredibly cock drunk the second he’s able to actually fuck

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Things you knew about your boyfriend before dating: he’s very protective, super smart, has good taste in music, his hands are big and warm, and he’s very down to earth.

Things you didn’t know about your boyfriend until after dating and he’s on top of you during a moody and rainy night makeout session: his cock is huge and it’s very intimidating.

One might ask, how could you have not known? Well, that’s easy. It’s a fairly new relationship and a very shy relationship at that. It’s a bit embarrassing for you, actually, because it’s not like you don’t want to be intimate with him. You definitely do, and apparently so does he. 

It’s the first time in the three weeks you’ve been dating that you’ve gotten to be completely alone with him in an intimate setting. For one, you live with your parents, and secondly, he lives with three other dudes who like to be all up in his business. It’s not exactly easy to get alone time with him. Thankfully, your parents are out on a five-day holiday somewhere in the Bahamas and you’re here on your family couch with Jaeyun’s hands cradling your neck as you kiss him. 

It got heated very fast, presumably because the two of you haven’t really had the privacy to do more than a standing makeout session without someone listening in, or worse, walking in. It almost makes the air feel electric now, kind of like a breath of fresh air except the fresh air tastes like the fruity chewing gum he had in his mouth when he originally came over.

Here’s the thing though, and man, it’s a thing. Looking at Jaeyun you’d think he’s average at best and you’re not really the type to go around guessing dick sizes.  So, naturally, when he slots a leg between yours as he got on top of you and you fucking felt it against your leg, you were a little more shocked than anticipated. Maybe he let out a little snide chuckle at your reaction too, you wouldn’t know, you were kind of busy wondering when he was going to let you in on the secret. 

Now, here you are deep in thought of how the hell that thing is going to fit anywhere while simultaneously one hundred percent willing to make it fit because god, does he know how to makeout and feel someone up. 

The more he kisses you, the more his hands roam, the more you experience intimate touches with him, the more you feel like your skin is on fire and replacing that intimidation with extreme arousal and lust. All the way until the point that the presumed makeout playlist starts over and he finally pushes a bit further with you.

“Is this okay?” He asks, now slotting himself entirely between your legs and essentially pressing his length directly against the pool that is threatening to seep through your fucking denim shorts. 

You give him a half nod, trying to pretend that he’s definitely a normal man with a normal cock. He smiles though, knowing full well that this isn’t what you were expecting. No one ever expects it from him. 

“You seem occupied,” he comments, pressing himself against you a little more and leaning down on his arms to nip at your lips. “or shocked, maybe?”

You try to kiss him to shut him up, not wanting to expose yourself for being entirely inexperienced with a size like his. 

“Hm?” He encourages you, pulling back again and looking directly into your eyes with a confident smirk. 

“Well,” you shift your eyes away and sigh out, “you’re kind of huge…” 

He takes that compliment and runs with it. It’s not like the two of you have to finally have sex or anything, but you both knew what was happening and you both definitely knew what the other wanted. At least ten minutes ago that was the situation.

“Is it too much?” He asks, this time a bit more concerned that his own biology could ruin this for you. 

“Probably? no, maybe?” 

Jaeyun pulls away from you, moving himself to sit back against the couch and give you your space. Considering probably and maybe isn’t a yes, he feels no need to push or pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do. There have been times where he’s hurt another person while being intimate, though not intentionally, he’s not exactly willing to do that to you unless you’re like, you know, jumping his bones for it. 

“Still, i’d like to try–” You start, looking at him as you sit up and feel your entire body tingle at the cold air that replaces his warmth. “Maybe if we take it slow– like, really slow?”

He looks at you with shining eyes. He asked you to be his girlfriend because he genuinely likes you. He likes your voice, he likes the way you smell, likes when you talk about your favorite songs and favorite movies. He was definitely smitten from the moment he saw you trip on your own two feet down the front porch of a house party months ago. Taking it slow with you was pretty normal, and the fact that you want him too just makes him all the more willing to take his time. 

“I’ll take care of you, ” he hums, spreading his legs a bit across the couch to give himself more space to re-adjust himself. “Just tell me if I need to slow down?” 

You nod, staring directly between his legs and rubbing your own together on instinct. If anyone’s gonna split you open, it might as well be your boyfriend.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

When he said he would take it slow with you, he really meant it. The fact that he curled three fingers into you for a solid twenty minutes and you still feel like your legs will buckle on you at any moment knowing that this is just for prep– oh damn. 

 The fact that he even used his tongue on you for the first time, making sure you were more slippery than you already were for another twenty minutes? The fucking fact that you were on the verge of orgasm when he pulled it out and presented it to you like a cock you could totally sit on without issue? 

Fuck.

Reality washes over you far too quickly when you actually make that attempt. 

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel like you were being torn apart by him, but part of you loves the way his gentle hands hold you steady as you try to sink down. You can feel the wet heat between your legs coat his length inch by inch as you start to slide down.

He stops you only for a moment when he notices you wincing. 

“Breathe, baby, just a little more.” He encourages, getting a nod from you before guiding you down further.

You breathe, clenching around him and doing your best to stop doing that so you can relax. You can tell he’s struggling to actually take it slow by now too, only because you can feel his hands shake against you as he holds himself back from obliterating you, probably. You’d think it would be quite endearing to see, if it weren’t for the fact that your eyes are blurring from the tears threatening to fall. 

Feeling embarrassed, you wipe your eyes and focus on how he feels inside of you. The pain is still there, but as you “sit” here, that pain somehow does replace itself with a strange sensation of pleasure little by little. You’ve always wondered what it felt like to be full, and it appears that this is exactly it.

It’s overwhelming.

“Do you want to stop?” He asks after noticing your tears, a bit of panic in his voice despite the fact that you could have sworn hearing a moan come out alongside it, “Pull up, it’s okay, you can–”

You sink down further instead, now bottoming yourself out on him and releasing a broken whine of both pain and pleasure. He grunts in unison to your whine, gripping your hips even harder than he already was and squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Fuck,” he sighs out, lazily opening his eyes to look at the way you perch yourself on him so perfectly. “Such a tight fit.” 

You nod, mostly unable to hear a word he’s saying as you try to relax your body enough to get rid of that small hint of pain. The consistent clenching of your adjustments send your boyfriend spiraling a bit, unable to contain his sighs of pleasure as your tight and wet heat squeezes his cock.

“Tell me when I can move, please, tell me–” He groans out almost frantically, staring down at where you sit flush against him and wanting so badly to fuck into you.

 He’s wanted to do this to you since you started dating, now that it’s finally happening, and now that you’re quite literally jerking him off simply by adjusting to his size– you know, it’s not exactly easy to contain himself. 

You take a few more seconds to breathe before your body finally relaxes and you give him a reluctant nod. 

Instantly it’s like you’re seeing stars. He barely moves, all he does is flex his abs and press his hips up and it’s like he manages to fit another non-existent inch inside of you. 

You groan out, falling forward against his chest and gripping onto his shoulders as you feel your body adjust to even that small movement. To you, this is so fucking embarrassing, but to him? 

Hottest thing ever. Really. 

He can hear your whiny gasps against his neck when he moves and it’s driving him fucking wild, especially considering the fact that his cock is driven so deeply inside of you that he thinks you’d tell him to stop— but you don’t. 

You’re so good to him, and for what it’s worth, he wants to make sure this will be the best orgasm of your life.

Slowly, his hands fall to your ass and guide you up. You feel slight relief as a few inches leave you, and your stomach bubbles with that same sensation of both pleasure and pain when he slides you back down.

He moans out at you, almost like he’s cooing in pity at how much you’re trying to take for him. It’s incredibly sexy to hear now that your ears have stopped ringing and you’re beginning to believe that you’d never want anything smaller than him anyway.

This time, you lift on your own and sink back down just as fast, wincing again against his neck but releasing a moan that sounds more like pleasure than anything else. He sees this as a green light, gripping your ass and encouraging you to lift slightly again.

“Stay like this.” he mutters with a deep breath before kissing against your forehead and thrusting his hips up once, hard. 

The tight heat you’re offering sends him into a frenzy when paired with the wet slap of his pelvis hitting your pussy, and the sounds you’re making offer little in terms of stopping because by now, you’re both loving it. 

He thrusts into you with ease, the drag loud and slippery, the moans of pleasure you release only make him go faster, harder. Almost releasing a whimper of his own at how fucking perfect you are for taking all of it.

“Look.” he tries to let out, waiting for you to pull yourself up from his chest and look at him.

You do with ease, that broken face from before now replaced with lustful and blown out pupils. 

“Look how good you take it,” he praises with a groan, almost punctuating each word with a thrust, “knew you could take it.” 

Your broken smile that falls into a slack mouthed string of nonsense only continues to push him.  All the way until you can’t think straight at all, and you’re feeling your body tense up with such pressure that you can’t even warn him before your walls are clenching so tightly that it even hurts him. 

You grasp onto him for dear life as your orgasm washes over you, drenching his entire length as you hold your breath. Never have you gotten off while feeling so fucking full, and arguably, you don’t think you could ever feel an orgasm so intense without him being the one to split you open.

“There you go baby.” he hums, watching you breathlessly fall apart on top of him before picking up his rhythm again and chasing his own high.

By this point, you’re so well adjusted that even the searing pain of his restless thrusts feel good. Your brain is foggy but you can’t help but just fucking watch him.

This is your boyfriend and this is what it looks like when you’re making him feel good. 

“Are you close?” you start to bounce on him, meeting his rhythm and allowing him to rest his own hips. 

He nods as he looks at you, awestruck with how you’re already able to ride him as if you weren’t whining just moments before. Seeing you take him in full like this is enough to have his cock pulsing.

“Just a bit more, baby.” He closes his eyes and runs his hands up your waist. “Keep riding me, fuck.” 

And that, you do. Feeling proud of yourself for being able to actually take this literal monster, you focus on the twitch inside of you as he releases with a deep and breathy moan.

It’s entirely too sexy to ignore, and you continue to bounce even as he tries to hold you in place to subdue the sensitivity of his cock being fucking strangled by how tight you are. 

Once his body stops jerking and you feel the last twitching release inside of you, you fall forward and both of you groan from the sensitivity. 

“There are pros and cons to having a big dick, i guess.” he admits in a groan. 

Even when you laugh, there’s another wince from both of you followed by a groan.

“Pros: big dick.” he whispers, holding you still against him so you don’t move again before he can soften up and pull out. “Cons: big dick.” 

You still laugh, and it still hurts. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

me and my lame ass endings lmfaooooooooooooooooo

[woso-dreamzzz]

Torn VI

Kewis x Child!Reader

Summary: You go to hospital

Kristie is at training.

Summer holidays usually means preseason for Sam. It usually means a few weeks where the three of you get to do fun things together before going back into preseason.

But with her knee, it means more time lazing around the house with you.

You're having a lot of fun playing dinosaurs with her, not yet changed out of your fuzzy Spinosaurus onesie as one of the Land Before Time episodes plays on the tv.

You drop your toy though and Sam gently moves it away.

Your seizures have gotten easier to deal with now that you've gone on your medicine. They've gone down to maybe two or three every few days and, while you're none the wiser about why your seizures are a bad thing, it makes Kristie and Sam feel safer.

But this one is different.

Usually, your seizures are only a few seconds long but, as Sam checks her phone, she knows it's been a few minutes now.

That's never happened before and, as your mouth opens and closes in repetitive chewing movements, she jerks into action.

There's blood in your mouth.

Blood that definitely shouldn't be there.

She fumbles with her phone for a moment, almost dropping it completely.

"Hello? Yes, er, I need an ambulance! My-My kid's having a seizure and she's bleeding and-and I don't know what to do!"

Questions rattle off the operator's lips faster than Sam can keep up.

"Yes. She's five, nearly six. Er, she's got CAE but this is different. I-I don't know! She's kind of jerking a little bit? And I think she's bitten her cheek because she's bleeding. She's on medication but...Yes, I'm Mum."

Sam rattles off more information, anything she can think of and the operator is nice enough to stay on the phone until the ambulance gets there.

It's only when Sam's at the hospital that she realises Kristie's at training.

Kristie's at training and is none the wiser about what's just happened.

Riding in the ambulance was the scariest thing Sam has ever done with you, far eclipsing the other scariest thing she had ever done with you which was hiding all of Kristie's eyebrow pencils.

You'd had an accident in the ambulance which all the paramedics said was normal. You bit at your cheek again which all the paramedics said was expected.

You'd jerked your little limbs and suddenly looked smaller than your almost six years as you lay in the stretcher in your fuzzy dinosaur onesie.

"Chook, baby," Sam had said in the ambulance," It's going to be okay. Alright? You're going to be alright."

It takes Sam a while to pluck up the courage to call Kristie, to let her know that something's happened to you and now you're in hospital.

Kriste's there within the hour, just as you wake up.

You'd briefly been awake when your seizure was over but so exhausted and so confused, Sam had coaxed you to sleep again.

“Mommy,” You say as your eyelids flutter open, reaching out for her.

Kristie grabs your hand quickly, squeezing ever so slightly like she’s making sure that you’re with her. “Hey, chook,” She coos as Sam appears at your other side,” How are you feeling?”

You frown. “Mom talked to me,” You say instead.

“Huh?”

“When I went all funny. I heard Mom talkin’ to me.”

“You could hear that, huh, chook?” Sam asks, taking your other hand and you nod.

“You said I was going to be okay. What happened?” You frown, looking down at yourself. “Where’s my dino pjs?”

“They’re going in the wash, chook,” Sam says,” They…They got a bit dirty in the ambulance.”

“Ambulance?”

“Yes, the ambulance. Do you remember, chook? You…You had a pretty bad…episode, didn’t you?”

“My arms went all floppy and weird.”

“That’s right. That must have been scary, huh?”

You shake you head. “No, ‘cause I had Mom saying everything will be okay. Mom doesn’t lie about important things like that.”

Kristie smiles. It’s a weak smile though and Sam knows that a crying session is inevitable once this is all sorted out. Kristie can hold herself together for you. She has to be strong for you, her little girl that only kind of understands what has happened to her.

“The doctors are going to come in and have a look at you, alright?” Kristie runs a finger over your nose and you giggle a little bit, going cross eyed to track its slope downwards.

“Okay and then we go back home?”

“Maybe,” Sam says,” We’ll see what they say. They might want to keep you a bit later.”

It’s not unlike your other doctor appointments, when they put you in the big machine and did tests. The inside of your cheek is a little tender when you run your tongue along it and your arms are kind of bruised and weird looking. You think your head is a little achy too but you’ve got pillows behind it so you don’t really notice.

“And you think this is a one off?” Kristie says from outside your hospital room, glancing back inside as you and Sam watch another Land Before Time episode on her phone.

“It’s not uncommon for children with CAE to experience other types of seizures. They go away with age-“

“That’s what they said about the CAE but look at her! She’s in hospital. The meds…They’re meant to be helping-“

“Miss Mewis,” The doctor says,” I understand completely but these things do happen. She’s happy and healthy and we’ve got information leaflets to help parents get through this kind of thing. We recommend a follow up with her neurologist and GP just to be on the safe side but this is all normal. Plenty of people live with seizures every day.”

Kristie releases a noisy breath. “Right. Yes. How soon until we go home?”

“Tomorrow should be good. We can set up a bed for one of your to stay here with her overnight but this is all just precaution. As long as everything is a-okay tomorrow morning, we can get you all in your way.”

“Thank you,” Kristie says,” I’ll just go in and tell her.”

You look up as Kristie comes in, head tilting to the side and hair falling over your eyes. “Mommy?”

“I’m going to stay here with you tonight,” Kristie says, sitting on the bed with you,” And then tomorrow, we’re going to go home. Sound good?”

You think for a moment. “And then my dino pjs will get washed?”

“I’ll wash them tonight,” Sam promises you,” And I’ll make sure they’re all toasty warm for you when you get home tomorrow.”

“Okay,” You say,” We can stay here for the night.”

[r3starttt]

GHOSTFACE ABBY

PAIRING: abby x reader

SUMMARY: Why not take a break from college and try the sticky, intoxicating atmosphere of a Halloween party? What could possibly go wrong, right?

CW: abby is a bit of a stalker. knife kink (like, fr) dry humping. breath play. choking. slight noncon but not really. mask kink. spit kink. cum eating. blood kink(? fingering. strap on. messy sloppy violent sex. bit of a pervert insane Abby and reader ngl.

A/N: ITS FICTION, REMEMBER IT DOESN'T NEED TO MAKE SENSE, REMEMBER NO MEANS NO, CONSENT MATTERS AND I DO NOT INTEND TO MAKE IT SEEM ANY OTHER WAY.

TAGLIST | KINKTOBER: @s4pphic-myth @levilvrr @girlkisser168 @bilsvlt @tlouloser @marsworldd @softlikesilk-chiffon @grey-jedi12 @slut4ellienabby @roos4lm4 @elliezlils11utt @1-800-fantasy @ellieswifee232 | - abby taglist: @imdrowningindispair @rkivedpages @aouiaa @bruhhtsukjf @twopeoplee @wastdstime | I dedicate this to @clairoscharm lysm

Halloween night—the air buzzing with anticipation for weeks as if the entire month of October revolved around this one event. Since the clock had struck midnight to mark the start of the month, Halloween had been the only topic on everyone’s lips. Your roommate, half-asleep and barely keeping her eyes open, had interrupted your shared study session with a groggy yet excited declaration that Halloween had officially begun. For her, at least.

Exams were looming just as close as the holiday, and you weren’t exactly thrilled about the idea of going to some lame party. It wasn’t like it would be your last Halloween, or the last chance to throw on a costume and get drenched in sweat while the stench of alcohol clung to your skin. But when the study material became a blur and your brain refused to retain anything, you found yourself thinking, why not? Maybe a break was exactly what you needed.

So here you were, wearing a last-minute ghostface mask, barely bothering to put any effort into the costume despite it being one of your favorite movies. Half the people in the cramped, sweaty space around you were dressed just as lazily. You’d lost track of your roommate hours ago, the blur of bodies and pulsing music swallowing her up as you found yourself dancing mindlessly with someone whose face you hadn’t even glanced at. A long braid swung past your peripheral vision, and the way they touched you made it easy to assume—hope—it was a woman. But it didn’t really matter. Both of you wore masks, and in your alcohol-fueled haze, you doubted you’d remember any of this tomorrow.

Boredom set in quicker than you anticipated. The press of bodies, the heat rising off the dance floor, and the tightness of your costume made your skin itch. You pushed away from the stranger behind you, their touch becoming less interesting by the second. You turned to face them briefly, offering a lazy dance before slipping away toward the kitchen, your throat burning for a drink that wasn’t spiked punch.

Something inside you craved more—maybe more alcohol, maybe more excitement.

As soon as you stepped into the quieter space, you ripped off the mask, gasping for air. The kitchen was a sanctuary compared to the chaos outside, and you immediately began rummaging for something to soothe your dry throat.

“Hey.” A hand gripped your shoulder unexpectedly, and you spun around, a flicker of annoyance rising as you struggled to process the voice. It was your roommate, glancing over your shoulder at the masked figure still lingering in front of the doorway. They were staring at you, unbothered by your roommate’s obvious curiosity. "Uhh, you got another gift? I forgot to tell you, it's a note- Who’s that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

You shrugged, dismissing the question as you reached for a drink.

“Don’t be like that, that's why creeps stalk you" she laugher at you, giving your hand a playful squeeze before her boyfriend swooped in, pulling her away by the waist. “They look hot. Go have some fun!”

You watched her go, their matching costumes adorable as they disappeared into the crowd. Despite her sweet words, your heart wasn’t in it. You didn’t come here looking for romance or hookups. You just wanted to drink, dance a little, and wake up tomorrow with sore feet from your heels rather than the crick in your neck from the endless hours hunched over textbooks.

The buzz of your phone in your pocket interrupted your thoughts. You fumbled for it under the thin black robe you’d thrown on, nearly exposing half your leg as you pulled it free. An unknown number flashed on the screen, but before you could decline the call, it stopped.

Prank call? you wondered, about to take a sip of your drink when the phone vibrated again, the same unknown number lighting up. This time, curiosity got the better of you, and you thought on answering, heading upstairs in search of some quiet.

Maybe it was some stupid prank, but who knew—perhaps it would be entertaining enough to break up the monotony of the night.

After knocking on a few doors, you finally found an empty room. It felt oddly strange, like a guest room no one had ever used. With the door locked behind you, you tossed your phone onto the bed and peeled off your mask, taking a moment to inspect the sparsely decorated space. Just a small bed, some empty cabinets, and a window overlooking the front garden. The wood creaked as you opened the window, the night air cooling your flushed skin. The phone buzzed again, and you glanced down at the screen.

Unknown number.

The phone buzzed again, and this time, curiosity got the better of you. You picked it up and clicked on the unknown number. Before you could speak, the person on the other end hung up. Maybe they got the wrong number, or maybe you could have some fun with it—prank them back, perhaps.

So, you tried again until they answered, the silence between you and the caller stretching on for a beat too long.

Then, a voice—distorted, almost robotic—crackled through. “You’re not going to say anything?”

You smirked at the tone, leaning against the windowsill. “And why should I?”

A low chuckle echoed through the line. “You took off your mask.”

Your smirk faltered, and you glanced around the empty room. No one was there. The door was locked. “How do you know that?” It felt stupid to ask. Haven't you learned from your horror movies to never say the truth?

“I’m watching you.”

The words made you uncomfortable but not scared—just a little on edge. You leaned out the window, scanning the crowd below, your eyes narrowing until you spotted them. The person from earlier, the one you’d been dancing with, stood beneath the flickering streetlight, their braid still hanging down from the mask they hadn’t removed. A sense of unease washed over you.

“Oh, it’s you.”

The voice on the other end of the line was amused. “Talk like you know me.”

The robotic distortion couldn’t mask the mocking tone, and you rolled your eyes. “The voice changer’s a nice touch, but I’m not into men. So, thanks but no thanks.”

They laughed again. “I know. I felt it.”

The way they said it made your skin crawl, and you shifted your weight, trying to shake off the discomfort. “If you wanted to fuck me, you could’ve just come over instead of asking for my number and pulling this creepy shit.”

Silence greeted your accusation, but then you saw them step back into the house, disappearing from sight. The voice, now laced with something darker, whispered, “Who said I asked for your number?”

Your brows knitted together in confusion. “What?”

But they had already hung up.

You stared at your phone, dialing back over and over again, only to be met with nothing but silence. the unsettling realization creeping in that this wasn’t just a prank.

Your thoughts raced, and you frantically tried to get ahold of your roommate. If anyone could help or at least confirm this was some elaborate joke, it would be her. But as expected, there was no reply. Probably busy with her boyfriend, fucking in the back of his truck, oblivious to the flood of messages you sent—urgent pleas—all falling on deaf ears.

If what he or she, said was true and they really was coming for you, then what? What could you do? Hide in this empty, unfamiliar room until morning? Sneak out of the house, risking everything for what?

Was this just some elaborate game to mess with your head? Maybe it was your roommate and her boyfriend playing a cruel prank, knowing how much you loved horror movies.

How ironic, you thought bitterly. The last time you watched Scream, they mocked it endlessly, laughing at how you called it your favorite. There was a humor in the stupidity of the characters' decisions, how everyone died in such obvious, avoidable ways.

And here you are.

The pounding music rattled through the walls and floor, vibrations crawling up the windows and doors, masking any sound that might have been out of place. You didn’t hear anything strange—or at least, you convinced yourself of that. No more calls. No more knocks. The alcohol coursing through your veins dulled the edge of unease, numbing your thoughts as the beer in your hand burned its way down your throat. Each bitter sip was a slow erasure of worry, an excuse to keep your phone face down and your gaze fixed on the window, half hoping to see someone familiar out there in the dark.

But no one came. No one ever would.

You downed the rest of the beer in one go, your nerves drowned in the haze of indifference. The strange call, the unsettling feeling—it was nothing. It had to be. The night was dragging on, the party getting louder, more chaotic, as if the whole neighborhood had surrendered to the noise and drunken laughter. The vibration of it all felt endless—until three sharp knocks cut through the noise.

Your heart stammered, beating against your ribs. Maybe it was a couple, drunk and looking for a private space. That was it. Nothing strange. You cursed under your breath, fumbling for your mask. "Hold on—I'm coming!" you called out, annoyance biting at your tone.

You abandoned the empty beer somewhere in the room, grabbing your phone with a shaky hand, adjusting the mask over your face as you unlocked the door.

But it wasn’t what you expected.

They stepped in without hesitation, a figure in the same costume as yours, locking the door behind them with a deliberate click. “Take your time,” they said, their voice low, almost mocking.

A pulse of dread shot through you. You could push them, shove them away—but something in the air made you hesitate. One of their hands lingered on the door, the other stayed at their side, but their presence was overpowering. The thrum of music outside dulled, the beat fading into the background as if the room itself had swallowed the sound.

“This isn’t funny,” you managed, your voice faltering as their hand reached for something under their robe. Before you could move, before you could think, the glint of a knife appeared between you, slow and deliberate, the blade tracing an invisible line in the air.

"Don't make this harder," they murmured, tilting their head. The voice was too familiar, too close. “The phone.”

You froze, confusion knitting your thoughts together as you stared at them. “I—what?”

A heavy silence enveloped the room, stretching into an awkward pause before you found your voice again, "What's the knife for?" the question sounding foolish even to your own ears. Had you learned nothing from the movies?

The figure before you laughed. "You’re gonna beg me not to use it?" they taunted, a playful menace in their tone.

You didn’t respond, only managing a plead in return."Please don’t kill me?" voice laced with mock desperation, an attempt to gauge how far they would take this game.

"Please! Oh, please!" you whined, the words slipping from your lips in a mix of humor and genuine anxiety, testing the limits of this bizarre encounter. Stopping as the blade suddenly pressed against your chest, its cold steel a stark reminder of the danger that lurked just beneath the surface of your playful banter.

“I would’ve killed you already if I wanted to. Just do what I say, yeah?” Their tone was almost casual, as if they were giving you simple instructions, not pressing a blade against your nerves.

You stepped back, misjudging the distance, your body stumbling into the bed. You grabbed at the frame for balance, but your limbs betrayed you, collapsing onto the mattress. They followed, kneeling down, their movements deliberate. The knife stayed in view, tracing the hem of your robe, drawing slow, delicate lines up and down your leg.

"Who are you?" you breathed, trying to make sense of the surreal. The costume. The mask. The knife.

“I’ve been looking for you,” they said, shrugging as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “I know you’ve been looking for me too.”

Confusion twisted in your gut, mixing with fear. The words, their voice—it all felt too close, too intimate. Like something out of a twisted game. They leaned in, their hands finding your knees, their touch unsettlingly calm, hovering just over the fabric of your robe.

“Phone,” they said again, their patience thinning. The knife skimmed lightly over your skin, not enough to hurt, but enough to send chills racing up your spine. “Turn it off, or give it to me.”

Your hand trembled as you reached for it, turning the screen off and placing it on the small table beside the bed. The distance felt too far, too close, all at once.

The glint of the knife wasn’t as sharp as it had been before. Their touch on your knees softened, becoming more deliberate than threatening. It was like they were waiting for you to push back—to take control of the situation—but you didn’t. Something about their voice, their presence, stopped the fear from settling too deeply.

Your eyes darted over their masked face, searching for a clue—anything to grasp onto. You wanted to pull the mask off, but something kept you in place, curious, almost intrigued.

A breath of a laugh escaped them, soft but unmistakable. The knife’s path stilled, hovering just above your skin, almost teasing. “You catch on quick.”

There was a dangerous allure in the anonymity, an irresistible pull that rooted you in place, daring you to stay, to see what they would do next. Maybe it was the haze of alcohol clouding your thoughts, or maybe it was the thrill of the unknown, but a part of you—buried deep—wanted this moment to linger.

The knife in their hand skimmed along your skin, grazing lightly, never breaking the surface. Each touch was calculated, teasing, as if they were testing how far you were willing to let them go.

“What do you want?” Your voice, barely more than a whisper, trembled with curiosity.

They leaned in closer, their voice lowering to a deep, almost intimate tone, vibrating through the mask. “I think you already know.”

The blade, which had been dancing across your skin moments before, now retreated. In its place, their hand slid onto your leg, warm and firm, sending a different kind of shiver through you. This wasn’t just fear anymore—it was a game, one you were both playing willingly.

“What if I don’t want to?” you challenged, but your body betrayed the words, your legs parting slightly.

The knife’s point pressed into your thigh, a small, sharp warning that made you freeze in place. It didn’t hurt, not really, but the message was clear: slow down. You met their gaze—or rather, the hollow eyeholes of the mask—trying to see past the shadows behind it.

“You would’ve done something already,” there was a brief pause, simply observing each other “You know how these things go in the movies, right?”

Whoever they were, they knew you, and in some strange, twisted way, you felt like you knew them too. It had to be someone from the party, someone playing along for the thrill of it.

“Take it off,” you demanded, your hands instinctively reaching for the edge of their mask.

But before your fingers could hook beneath the mask, they caught your wrist, their grip quick and firm. “Where’s the fun in that?” Their voice held you in place. “Mhm?”

The frustration and curiosity mounted, and before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “Let me hear you then?”

They straightened, towering over you now, the knife still in hand but no longer a threat. With deliberate slowness, they trailed the tip of the blade upward, grazing the fabric of your robe, teasing a path along your stomach and between your breasts. The movement was agonizingly slow.

You only watched them rise to their full height. The sound of their boots echoed in the loud quiet between both.

They stopped just short of the bed, looming above. Their gloved hand slipped beneath the folds of their cloak, withdrawing a small handheld device, their fingers pressed down on its side. The mechanical hum that had filled the space between you was suddenly gone.

The silence that followed felt deafening, louder than any threat they could have made. It was just you and the masked figure.

There was a thrill in not knowing who they were, but now, with the voice changer off, the danger felt less like a game and more like something real, something you weren’t quite ready to step away from. You didn't want to.

Their voice, when it came, was soft, natural—more intimate than before. “Better?”

You didn't have enough time to process the situation—not that you truly cared anymore.

The cool steel of her knife pressed against your chin, tilting your head upward. "Yeah, better."

The blade traced a deliberate path down your body, as if slicing through the cheap fabric of your robe with ease.

Her legs nestled between your knees, forcing you back against the bed, the soft mattress giving way beneath you. Your weight settled on your elbows, propping yourself up as you struggled to catch your breath. The mask felt suffocating, the heat of your body trapped beneath it, but the cool air from the half-closed window rushed in, caressing your half exposed skin and providing a momentary reprieve .

You could feel the rush of arousal coursing through you, intensifying with each inch of skin that was bared by her free hand, or the small orifices caused by the sharpness of the knife. She loomed over you, an imposing figure cloaked in power, and the simple costume transformed her into something far more formidable.

You wondered if it was the alcohol clouding your judgment, making you feel this desperate—or maybe it wasn’t.

You were wearing not the most usual underwear beneath the robe, but it hadn’t been for this moment; it was merely a playful nod to tease, a way to show off a bit while trying to stave off the heat of the night. You had dressed for fun, yet here you were, caught in an unexpected turn of events. How had it all spiraled to this?

Her hands pushed the robe up your thighs, uncovering you and showing you full for her. The pads of her fingers trailing it's way over your stomach first, then down your thighs to caress over the robe. all the way up your clavicle and under your mask. her fingers coming to hover over your neck mocking the act of choking before she focused on your breasts again.

Your breath got caught under the mask, trapping you fully beneath her. The sight before you painted in a dark tone, it felt surreal. There was an itch at the tip of your fingers, wanting to feel her, pull her closer and take that mask off even if yours was still on, make it messy and provide her with your humiliation and the desperation of wanting her. So, you reached for her, playing with the little fabric that your fingers could touch- only that way you realized she was no longer interested in whatever was behind the mask, but under the robe.

Her knife was long forgotten, calloused hands holding you in place, dancing over the black fabric of your costume to feel the lace beneath, going down and getting a preview of your body as she slid herself down, making space for her with her legs, separating yours and guiding your thighs open with the cold of her hands. It wasn't until she was on her knees that you fully sinked into the matresss, staring blankly at the ceiling and it's spots, humidity. Proper of a horror film.

But it stopped. She took her mask off, covering now with the length of your robe. There was nothing you could see that wasn’t that characteristic braid, she was blonde.

Her hands came to hold yours in place, you would get to see her. Just not now, and she'll make sure of it. No peeking.

Your lips parted open at the sensation of her lips, a warm kiss over the thin of your lacy panties. Your stomach raised in response, a shaky breath that to her meant it all. You were everything she had been dreaming of. Maybe she was too.

It was slow, a chain of kisses displayed over the wet that was passing through the pretty patterns of your panties. You hold her hands, digging your nails in between her fingers, making small circles over her knuckles, anything that could make her understand this wasn't fair.

To her it was only annoying, growling at the sight of your pussy clenching around nothing, was it this easy for anyone to get you?

The supposed dream come true was far from what her mind had created.

To be fair, she barely knew you and you barely knew her, or that she thought. Either way, If you didn't provide her the enjoyment of the story her brain had worked on creating for the past few months, the knife was still an option.

Her hands guided yours over your lap, trapping them with only one of hers before the other one went under the robe.

With her digits she pushed your clothes aside, pressing her tongue over your clit, her fingers holding the panties in place.

You tasted better than what she'd pictured. Her moans- you couldn't hear but feel, sense- it wouldn't surprise you if your brain was imagining them even.

It didn't took her long before she slid her tongue between- up and down your slit, taking a break to scissor your folds with her fingers, rubbing the smallest circles above your arousal, admiring the sight her eyes could barely see with the little light coming from the room.

She licked your cunt, rolling her tongue in between your folds, sucking at your clit, kissing at your hole. You tasted ridiculously good. She spit over you, admiring your glistening pussy, all this for her. Your legs opened more if that was even possible, clenching at absolute nothing but the sensation of her drool and your slick mixing deliciously over your sensitive clit and down your hole.

It was quiet aside the loud music and voices coming through the window. Your whines were barely heard and so were her moans. Truth is, behind it all there were to faces and bodies as equally wet and desperate. Truly.

She slid her tongue in, savoring and feasting on your taste. You were wet and sticky and she was making a mess of it, sinking against your pussy in the sloopiest way possible. It was aggressive and dirty and it was turning your brain into absolute nothing.

Her fingers wrapped tighter around your hands, until they let go and she stopped mid ministrations. Both of her hands going to the hem of your panties, taking them off for you and getting to touch at the tender of your legs before she kept going.

What If you did something and the knife had to be used? she wouldn't want this to be how she'll get to savor you. You knew, if she was something, she was doing it properly.

Her hands left the flesh of your thighs to grip at your hands again, holding them in place. Even when you tightened around her face and barely let her breathe, she didn't care about anything that wasn't the obscene of your wet pussy and her tongue eating you out, anything that wasn't those quiet gasps for air and whines that left your pretty lips. Would they be as glossy as the sight before her?

You were suffocating, eyes closed and knotted eyebrows. Lips open to catch your breath and let the pleasure escape as loud as you felt like- who would hear anyway?

The warmth pooled on your stomach. Your legs finding comfort over her shoulders, pressing her closer, deeper. You didn't care about her either, you never did and this wasn't gonna change it, but for now your fuzzy brain could only think and go for the orgasm. Her tongue felt ridiculously good, her hands were heavy and you knew she wanted you, she needed you. It was turning you as desperate and intense as she was.

"Fuck- fuck, fuck..." you warned, only making her work harder for your pleasure. She did take her time with you, it was her fantasy, but the moment was making her weaker. At one point, after being squeezed between your thighs and pressed against your slick, could there be any better?

For one last time she sinked her face into your soaking cunt, her tongue delighting herself with the bundle of nevers she craved.

if she could she'll eat you alive, sense your blood, mix it in her tongue with your arousal. feel all the warmth withing you. "fuck" she whined, yes, whined. with it came the slurps, taking in all you had for her. She would not waste any of it.

You bucked your hips closer to her, lifting them- your body turning into a humiliating response, loud and stupid for her. Letting out a chain of blabbers, nonsense pleads for her.

It had you salivating, her touch. She didn't stop Inmediatelly, not even when savoring what was left for her to take. She kissed at your clit, sucking and playing with it while you still squirmed. It was just a last taste.

You're far too gone, feeling the warmth taking over you. You don't realize she's right there, on her knees for you and you only.

The scene is beyond obscene, with your slick running down her chin, her baby hairs dancing over her forehead and sides of her face, above her flushed freckled cheeks. It's delighting delightful, truly.

You turn your head up, the mask covering your face still an impediment for her to actually see how much of an effect she'd achieved on you. But God if she could only see your eyes.

"Abby?"

Her eyes flicker toward you, and you catch the faintest smirk playing at her lips. She wipes the corner of her mouth with her thumb, as if savoring the taste of what just happened. It makes your stomach twist—desire and dread, intertwined. You swallow hard, your breath uneven, and her nod is slow, deliberate.

"Come on... you didn’t know?" Her voice is honeyed, but it drips with something darker, something mocking. You've never heard her sound this soft, yet it wraps around your throat like a noose. You feel your chest rise and fall too quickly—she sees it, her eyes locked on the rise and fall of your breath.

Her hands rest lazily on your knees, the soft brush of her fingertips teasing. Her gaze flicks to the discarded panties on the floor—yours, taken by her, claimed like a trophy. The smirk deepens, and she stands, her presence looming over you.

"I mean... double A's are pretty common," you mutter, trying to sound indifferent, as if the heat between your legs wasn’t still pulsing, as if her touch didn’t set your body on fire. She doesn’t seem fazed by your lame attempt at deflection. If anything, it amuses her.

From behind her back, a flash of metal—she pulls out the knife, lazily letting it drop beside you on the bed. The weight of it bouncing against the mattress makes your pulse spike, but the tension in your body remains, a slow-burning ache. You want her, even now—maybe especially now.

She takes off her Ghostface robe, the identity game long over. You do the same, peeling the mask off, but it’s not like either of you were ever fooled. Not really. You’ve known from the beginning who was under the mask.

Her voice cuts through the quiet. "Oh, so I’m not special?" It’s teasing, but there’s an edge to it, a warning. She takes a step closer, her fingers tracing over her belt, dark eyes never leaving yours. "Who’s the other one?"

You let out a breathy laugh, your lips curling into a smile, playful yet sharp. "You're the only one, Abby. I just didn’t expect you to be such a psycho." The word rolls off your tongue, half a taunt, half admiration. You cross your legs, your posture casual, until she presses her hands on your knees, parting them with ease.

She leans in close, towering over you with that intoxicating blend of power and desire. "Oh, so you get to be a creep, but I can’t?" she breathes, her face hovering inches from yours, her knee wedged between your thighs, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. Her hands grip the mattress beside your head, caging you in.

"It was just a joke," you murmur, though the words sound hollow. You know the truth. You had been obsessed with her, watching her from the shadows, reveling in her weirdness.

"A joke, huh?" she tilts her head, her braid sliding over her shoulder as she studies you. "Then why did you call me in the middle of the night, moaning my name while you touched yourself?"

Before she can say more, you grab her braid, pulling her down for a kiss, tasting the remnants of yourself on her lips. It’s rough, desperate, filled with unspoken confessions. You pull back just enough to murmur against her mouth, "I didn’t stalk your house. I didn’t send you creepy gifts or follow your friends. That was all you, Abby."

Her eyes burn into yours, a silent challenge. She leans down, her body pressing into yours, the cold metal of her belt buckle digging into your stomach. The weight of her presses you further into the mattress, her presence consuming you. Your legs rub against hers, your body reacting instinctively to the tension, the anticipation.

One of her hands trails down your stomach, teasingly low, but just when you think she’ll give you what you crave, she slides her hand to cup the back of your thigh, pulling it against her. The pressure of her knee against you remains, enough to keep you on edge.

"Was I supposed to just let you have your fun and forget about it?" Her breath is warm against your neck, her lips hovering but not touching. "Call the police, maybe? I had proof, you know."

Her words send a shiver down your spine, the weight of her intentions hanging heavy in the air. You had thought you were in control—but maybe not.

"So? I didn’t ask you not to—"

You freeze mid-sentence, feeling a sharp sting, a cold bite against your thigh. You glance down, eyes widening as you see the tip of the knife pressed into your skin, just enough to draw the faintest bead of blood.

"No, no... go on," she taunts, her breath hot against your neck as she laughs, the sound low and mocking. The knife digs just a little deeper, enough to remind you who’s really in charge here.

"I love you... don’t you love me?" she whispers. Her lips brush your ear, her voice wrapping around you like a noose. "I know you read my letters," she mutters, the blade dragging slowly up the side of your ribs, a chilling contrast to the heat of her breath against your skin.

Her free hand moves from your awkwardly positioned leg, gliding up your arm, fingers tracing the strap of your bra before she slips it off your shoulder. Her touch is deliberate, almost tender, as if savoring each inch of your skin she claims. "I know you liked them too... the things I wrote," she murmurs, her lips growing wetter with each word, as if the memories of what she’d written—the sinful things you’d done with her words on paper—had soaked into her thoughts.

But then her voice drops to a whisper, barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breathing. "Though... you didn’t wear my gift tonight." Her fingers slide both bra straps down your arms, slow, methodical. She leans back just enough to study your face, watching for your reaction.

"What gift?" you murmur, confusion clouding your thoughts as you instinctively cup her face, her skin hot and slick with sweat beneath your palm. But the sensation of her thigh grinding between your legs clouds everything, making it hard to think straight, hard to focus on anything but the pulsing ache she’s causing.

"I knew she would be an issue..." Abby groans, her voice darkening as she stares up at you, her eyes flashing with something feral. Before you can even ask what she means, her mouth is on you again, kissing over your collarbone, her lips leaving dark marks in their wake. Each bruise blooms beneath her mouth, an unspoken claim on your skin.

"Did you hurt her?" The question stumbles from your lips, your voice shaky. You didn’t care that much about your roommate, not really—but the idea that Abby could do something... it chills you. Would she hurt you, too?

"No... but you’d like me to," she laughs, pulling back to meet your gaze with a look that makes your stomach flip. Her eyes—those hauntingly beautiful eyes—burn into yours, stripping away whatever facade she used to wear at school. She’s something else now, something untamed, something dangerous.

Your breath catches as her hand slips between your thighs again, fingers teasing, pressing just enough to make you squirm. Words choke in your throat, swallowed by the intensity of her touch. And the blade—still in her hand—hovers dangerously close, a constant reminder of the twisted game you’ve found yourself in.

She slids inside you with ease, humping against you with each thrust her fingers do. Curling inside you, rubbing your clit with her thumb.

You only close your eyes, mouth open for her to hear. She moans in exchange, knuckle deep inside that pretty pussy she's much dreamed about.

"Look at me" but you ignore her, too focused on that sensation in between your legs that feels like being on heaven.

Her eyes go down between your bodies, her pants now covered in your wet. "Fucking- look at me" She warns one last time, hips bucking against yours, against her own hand while you clench around her digits.

But as you do, her words get ignored once again. The weight chocking you suddenly fades, but the wet of your pussy keeps being filled- that's all you care about.

Or that's all you cared about. "Suck," just like that your eyes meet her again, a clear mad displayed on your face. You would use that knife on her- "Yeah... good girl."

There's a web of saliva connecting your lips, broken by her fingers resting on your tongue. You just do what she says, not a major hesitation- not a physical one, at least.

"You taste so good, don't you agree?" you feel the weight of her body sitting over your leg. The response she gets is a nod, lately followed by a gag- she went too far.

It feels good, her fingers filling your mouth, your flavor mixing with your drool. Her weight numbing your leg. You moan at it, giving her the full show. You know what she's here for.

Her other hand comes to her belt, undoing it while her gaze rests over yours. "Sit" the weight of her lap abandoned your leg, pressing a small slap against your thighs while her knees depened the fabric beneath her. Only there you got a proper sight of her body, her tight black shirt and the boxers peeking through while she got rid of her pants. Just like you'd imagined it to be- not really how you'd fantasized it'll happen.

The drool connected her fingers to the fat of your lips just a few seconds before her command, the sight as obscene as the wet between your legs at the mere loss of her fingers filling you, knowing what was ahead would end in a tragedy, worth it though.

There was no warning but her hands on your ass, forcing you to sink in and elicting the most delicious moan out of your mouth. The sensation, the alcohol, the music, the fantasy of it all- you were dying tonight.

Her pretty lips popped open, head against the matress while her nails dig in the fat of your lower back, tracing the flesh of your ass cheeks in a painful way- awkward, even. You couldn't care any less.

"This what you wanted?" Abby was already out of breath, her stomach twirling at the mere sensation of your hips riding over her cock- she could feel it. You nodded, leaning closer to her "This what you wanted?" the retort left your mouth with less shame, you knew she'd planned it to be perfect, you knew inside that mind of hers it all evolved around you.

Just seeing her, willing to hurt you yet please you in the most perfect detailed way, what was love if not that? And for you, what could be a greatest prove of your own devotion if not dying for her, allowing her to fulfill her creepiest fantasies for once in her pretty perfect life.

"Y-Yeah" her tone bellow a whisper while her hands gripped at your breasts. hardened nipples between her fingers while your own hands went to rub down the soft of her freckled skin. She was strong, just like you had fantasied about. Even better.

"Yeah?" Your voice came out higher than you wanted it to, it became mocking. Her hands didn't wait long before attaching to your neck, enveloping the soft tainted skin with her fingers. she was delicate still.

You rode at the beat, the breath passing through your agitated lips feeling warmer, fading. Eyebrows closed in hope of a sign, a warning- there would never be one.

You didn't stop, it was impossible to when it felt that good. Her dick inside you, hitting you as if it was meant for you- and how you clenched around it, how good it felt whenever you sank in again and again and again. The sight of her pretty fucked up face, the sensation of loosing your breath in between. It felt too good.

But the knife was close and the temptation too. It was your plan to begin with, not hers.

So, you picked it, placing it between her pretty tits, only covered by that shirt shed worn for you tonight. She looked deliciously inviting, with that fear on her eyes like the first time you ever followed her and she caught you, similar to that time you called her after her first failed exam, moaning and whining her name while your digits clinched at your pussy, hoping it was her.

"Breathe baby... come on, don't be like that" your ears caught that peculiar laugh, giggle-like. She was nervous, had she not thought about how bad this would end?

Her hands freed your neck, and you did what she asked "No, in..." Her hands picked at the knife, guiding you "out... yeah, good girl."

The warmth in your stomach grew in a ridiculous extent. "Again, come- fuck- come on." And you did, breathing in and out at the speed she pleased, it felt even more suffocating that way. "You close?"

You titled your head back, enjoying the freedom to move your hips as you wanted to. There was nothing to hold to, but the knife covered by her hands. You wished it was her tits.

"Please baby... come on" the blade fell over her stomach, ignored as her grip went to your hair, holding you in place for her to properly take in the scenery she'd so delicated planned for tonight.

Abby was whimpering for you, Abigail Anderson, whining, crying, pleading for you to use her cock, ride her until she had your arousal glistening over it, until she could heard those pretty calls for her name one last time.

"M' gonna- fuck" there you go, her pretty good girl. So sad she'd had enough for tonight.

It was messy. The arousal still between your legs, your back against the matress while you chocked and pressed your nails as deep and strong as human against her neck. Her hands fighting to to the same for you.

The kiss was sloppy and it had happened in the blink of an eye. You should've picked the knife when the chance was given, instead of focusing on how her throat would close whenever you whine her name, whenever the strap hit against her fucking desperate pussy, rubbing against her clit the right amount to make her stomach pain and her mouth drool.

There was blood by the end. Double A's craved in your thighs while you stared at the ceiling and she crawled at the end of the bed to simply sit and catch her breath. The fat of her fingers tracing over the scratches around her neck and over her stomach. "Fuck"

[bucket-o-slime]

swooning i am so sorry to be homo on main again

[thatfandomslut]

Kiss Me Harder

Regina George x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Trigger Warnings: SMUT, 18+!!! Power Bottom Regina, Soft Top Reader, fingering (Regina receiving), oral (Regina receiving), thigh riding (reader receiving). There is a plot, and it is almost a slowburn to it.

Request:

can i request a regina george x reader smut with bottom regina ?

Mean Girls (2024) requests are open.

(Y/n) would consider herself lucky to be paired up with Regina George for the dorms at Harvard University. Not only that, but they shared several freshman courses, and were able to work on homework and study together. (Y/n) admired the way Regina seemed to know exactly what she wanted. She was ambitious and beautiful. (Y/n) could also appreciate how cutthroat Regina could be. Similarly, Regina appreciated how spontaneous and carefree that (Y/n) was. Unlike her cutthroat attitude, (Y/n) seemed to follow the vibes of the people around them. Which was why they worked so well together.

Their first kiss was during a long night of studying for their Biology 101 class. They had thrown pillows and blankets on the fuzzy rug they picked out together in the center of their room. Regina had lit up some candles, hoping to ensure that there was a calming aroma around them. They began to exchange candy as a point system for every right question, but it wasn't long before they seemed to run out of candy. "What if, for every right answer, you kiss me." (Y/n) teased, a smirk dancing on her lips as she looked over to Regina. They often flirted shamelessly with each other. However, something was different about the atmosphere in the air.

Regina could only lick her lips briefly before looking back over to (Y/n), mirroring the smirk. How could she refuse an offer like that? "Deal," Regina confirmed. (Y/n) still didn't expect her to go through with it. They were always exchanging flirty quips such as those. "Name three domains of species for me." Regina let her cool blue eyes flicker across (Y/n) face. There was recognition to the question, and she realized how easy this question was. Regina seemed to be going easy on her.

(Y/n) leaned in slightly, watching Regina's eyes continue to glide along her face to her lips before meeting (Y/n)'s eyes. With a cheeky smile, (Y/n) allowed her lips to ghost Regina's, and their breaths mingled. "Bacteria, archaea, and eurkarya," she answered in a whisper. She was about to pull away, but Regina beat her to the action, kissing her deeply. (Y/n)'s eyes widened, but it only took her seconds to melt into Regina's lips easily. That led to several dates, make-out sessions on their twin-sized dorm beds, and the official label of 'girlfriends.'

As final exams were getting closer, (Y/n) and Regina could conclude that they weren't ready. They were ready for the exams, studying became fun due to their new point system. The problem was those three weeks spent apart. The two had almost become inseparable over their semester romance. Eventually, Regina realized she could just invite (Y/n) to stay over the holidays. The question came after pushing their beds together the night before, the two lay together sleepily, having been up studying for a couple of hours prior. "What if you just spent some of your breaks with me? I could convince my dad to fly you out to North Shore after Christmas." Regina offered, her head resting calmly on (Y/n)'s chest.

(Y/n) smiled at the thought, playing with Regina's hair. "Okay, but I don't think I could ask you to pay for my ticket. I will probably have to talk to my parents about it, too, but I can call them tomorrow. I don't think they'd be opposed to it." (Y/n) spoke softly, finding herself having to make sure to stay awake during their conversation. She was drifting off just moments ago before Regina brought her idea up.

Regina lifted her chin, moving to a spot where she could kiss (Y/n) on the nose softly. "Baby, I insist. It would be no problem whatsoever. Consider it as part of your Christmas gift if you have to." Regina stated simply, knowing she wasn't going to let (Y/n) spend a dime. She was someone who enjoyed spoiling her significant other, though (Y/n) would make sure to slip some money in Regina's book bag or make sure to get the bill first. She always felt a bit guilty, even if she knew Regina was a lot more well-off than her. Nodding sleepily, (Y/n) knew she wouldn't win this. Regina grinned before cuddling back into her girlfriend as the two fell asleep.

Finals week flew by in a breeze of late nights and several coffee orders. At the end of finals, (Y/n) and Regina dreaded leaving their dorms. With their bags packed, they were forced to separate. Fortunately, this was only for a week. Despite this, they were sending messages back and forth, expressing how much they had already missed each other. Some might judge and describe their relationship as clingy, but neither of them really cared what anyone else thought. They were happy, and that was what mattered.

After Christmas came around, (Y/n) found herself anxiously awaiting the twenty-seventh. The best Christmas gift she could receive was to already be flying to see Regina. She was excited because Regina said she was going to introduce her to her friends, Gretchen, Karen, and Cady. All of whom (Y/n) has heard a lot about. Not only that, but her parents were going on a trip, so they were going to have the entire place to themselves for a couple of days. This excited (Y/n) because they would finally be able to spend alone time without college work somehow having to be done at some point in the night. Now, they could be together without any academic distractions between them. Especially because in their last few study sessions, their point system kept becoming more heated before realizing they had to get back to the task at hand. In fact, they had to go back to the candy system in order to remain on track.

When the time finally came for their reuniting, (Y/n) felt excitement fill her the whole way to the airport and the whole plane ride. Regina was waiting for her at the bottom of an escalator in white light pink turtle neck and a tan trench coat kept her warm. (Y/n) couldn't help but admire her as the escalator descended. "Hey, beautiful," (Y/n) greeted with a bright smile as she finally was able to make her way to the blonde. Regina flipped some of her blonde hair over her shoulder with a smile, planting a kiss on (Y/n)'s lips. "Looks like someone missed me." (Y/n) teased as they pulled apart.

Regina shook her head as she rolled her eyes playfully. "Shut up, loser," she joked before taking (Y/n)'s hand and leading them to her jeep. (Y/n) followed Regina, and admired her Jeep as they drove. "I can't wait to give you your Christmas gift. I think you're going to love it." Regina expressed as she parked in front of a large home. (Y/n) felt slightly insecure when she realized how wealthy Regina's family must be in order to afford this in the current economy. Choosing not to speak about it, she followed Regina into her home and to her room. She did remember the discussion of convincing her parents to give her the biggest bedroom in the house, but she wasn't expecting it to be as big as it was. Looking around as Regina put (Y/n)'s bag in her closet, (Y/n) looked over at all the photos on the wall with a smile.

"The girl with ginger hair is Cady, the girl with honey-blonde hair is Gretchen, and then the dark brown-haired girl is Karen." She pointed to each person, having walked up behind (Y/n) as she looked. (Y/n) listened intently as Regina told her some things about the group. (Y/n) could appreciate a tight-knit group from high school having hung out with some of her high school friends over the last week. "I think you're going to love them."

Regina fell back on her bed, grinning over to (Y/n). "I'm sure I will," (Y/n) agreed before slipping out of her shoes and joining Regina happily. "I missed you," (Y/n) whispered as she moved close to Regina. Regina grinned at this before kissing the girl happily. It was one of the best kisses they ever shared. This was probably because they weren't forced to return to studying afterward. It might also be because they were allowing each other's hands to roam each other's bodies as they deepened the kiss. (Y/n)'s breath hitched slightly as Regina's hands found her breasts over her shirt. She was surprised, but she was waiting for this moment. There was a lot of built-up tension still from their finals week.

"Is this okay?" Regina inquired, not wanting to do anything without consent. (Y/n) got out a shaky yes. This was something she wanted more than anything. Regina smiled softly before kissing (Y/n) deeply. (Y/n) moaned softly in the kiss, allowing herself to move so she could straddle Regina's hips. A position they had found themselves in several times in the past. (Y/n)'s hips ground gently against Regina's as she gasped in pleasure. "(Y/n), I want to keep going. I want to make love to you."

(Y/n) smiled softly, kissing her softly. "I want that, too." She was happy that Regina communicated this, because she was ready, too. Pulling at Regina's top, she pulled it off. Regina doing the same for (Y/n) quickly. It wasn't long before their clothes made a small pile on the floor and (Y/n) was kissing Regina as her hands massaged her breasts. "Kiss me harder, you don't have to be so soft with me," Regina whispered on her lips. (Y/n) was happy to oblige, kissing Regina deeper as their tongues fought for dominance. (Y/n) kissed down Regina's body, momentarily asking if Regina was sure once more. Once Regina answered with a quick yes, (Y/n) let her lips latch onto Regina's breasts, sucking at the nipple between her teeth.

Regina's moan filled the room as one of (Y/n)'s hands made its way down, massaging Regina's clit. Regina cursed loudly as her hands found their way into (Y/n)'s hair. "Fuck, (Y/n), don't stop." She told her. (Y/n) tried not to smirk, but failed that mission as she inserted a finger, rubbing at Regina's G-spot in a way that caused the blonde's back to arch. "Faster, baby," Regina moaned out to the best of her ability as (Y/n) sped up to Regina's liking. "Just like that, you're fucking perfect." Regina could already feel herself close to her climax as (Y/n) made love to her. This was unlike any sex she had ever experienced before. She felt her leg shaking as (Y/n) drew her closer. Announcing her climax, she felt herself cum over (Y/n)'s fingers. Her hand gripped the arm that kept (Y/n) upright as she cried out in pleasure as (Y/n) continued to help her ride out her high.

Regina counted herself lucky as (Y/n) felt like this wasn't enough. She needed to make Regina cum again. Kissing down the rest of Regina's body, she found her face between the girl's thighs. Regina's head fell back as (Y/n) sucked her clit. She was already sensitive, so she knew it wasn't going to take (Y/n) long to make her cum again. "Fuck, you're doing great, please don't stop." Regina wasn't someone to say 'please' unless she wanted something. And that something was for (Y/n) to continue to fuck her until she saw stars. Which, she was very close to as she felt herself grow closer once more. "I'm going to cum, baby." She got out, and (Y/n) continued. As Regina came, (Y/n) made sure to clean her all up. Which, to Regina, was the hottest thing that had ever happened to her. Which said a lot about (Y/n)'s skills, in the long run.

"Come ride my thigh, baby. I want to help you cum, too." Regina had remembered from a discussion they had during one of their late-night deep dives that (Y/n) was someone who enjoyed thigh riding. (Y/n) kissed her, Regina receiving a taste of herself as (Y/n) straddled Regina's hips. "Perfect, baby, just like that. Mommy will help you."

(Y/n) smiled down at Regina as her hands took hold of (Y/n)'s breasts, pinching and twisting at the nipples delicately. (Y/n) moaned at Regina's actions, her hips moving back and forward. "You feel so good, Regina." She said, pleasure warming up her entire body. She moaned as Regina instructed her to continue. She listened to whatever Regina told her to do as she felt herself getting closer to her orgasm. "I'm going to cum, Mommy." She said in between moans. Regina smirked at this, her hands falling to (Y/n)'s hips gently.

"Cum for me," Regina's tone in her voice brought (Y/n) to her orgasm as she rocked on Regina's thigh to ride it out. "That's it, baby. Keep going for as long as you need. You did so good."

(Y/n) finished before laying next to Regina, both girls in a moment of bliss. They were seeing stars as their fingers found each other, intertwining under the sheets that (Y/n) pulled over them after a chill made its way through the air. The two found themselves there for a long moment before pulling each other close and holding each other's clammy bodies together. Neither minded as they smiled to themselves, Regina's head tucked under (Y/n)'s chin. Their cuddles became their version of aftercare. The two didn't mean to, but they ended up falling asleep like that, not caring about their clothes still piled on the floor.

[enwoso]

CHANGED — arsenal wfc x lionesses!reader

now i swear someone requested this but i literally can’t find the request in my inbox at all and i’m actually starting to think ive gone crazy and that i dreamt this request but anyways part two for hyper cause if i dreamt the request or not i loved it for what i can remember of it🙃

read hyper here

masterlist

it had been a few weeks since your chat with leah, and slowly your behaviour had started to change and not for the worse. but for the better!

it took a few more scoldings from leah and kim for doing  silly things like, putting food colouring in pelovas shampoo or folding over all the pages in emily's book she was reading or when kept interrupting steph when she was filming a thirty second clip for the media team it ending up taking the australian thirty minutes to film the video instead of a minute.

but after one to many sit downs with leah and kim something clicked in your head and your mischievous acts slowly stopped.

so much so that in the first few days when you hadn't pulled a joke on anyone, the arsenal girls were wondering if you were sick or if something drastic had happened.

the girls feeling on edge about not having to check over their stuff or checking over door handles incase you had gotten to them before they had.

“y/n are you sure your not sick, there’s no way you’ve just turned down kyra’s attempt to cause havoc again!”

“i’m a changed women stephy! that’s the old me!”

and while you were technically a changed women it was all because of that big goal you had looming over your head. that you wanted to reach.

getting to the euro 2025.

yeah you still pulled a small harmless joke like scaring alessia whenever she came around a corner but that was just banter plus her face every time you did it was priceless.

plus leah said you were allowed to have some fun!

"you've had a good session today y/n" kim complimented you as she sat down next to you in the changing room you busy taking off your boots, kim felt a lot more relaxed the past few weeks not having to look over her shoulder every time she took a step in the training ground.

"thanks kim" you smiled at the captain, "let's hope you have another masterclass this weekend ey?" she nudged you as a small laugh came from you as kim was bringing up your two goals you got last weekend in the league.

"i hope so" you shrugged, your mind wasn't really on the weekend as much as it should you were more concerned about if you were going to get the phone call tomorrow or not, which would determine where your family were having their summer holiday.

"you thinking about the getting the call up?" kim asked quietly knowing your head was clearly somewhere else due to your lack of chattiness, normally your teammates would have a hard time getting you to stop talking.

you hummed as you nodded, kim bumping her shoulder into yours. "you'll get the call up, there's been a massive improvement in you over the last few weeks y/n"

you looked up to kim, seeing a genuine look on her face, "i mean it, and not only on the pitch but off the pitch too!"

"gosh your full of compliments today kimmy! did you finally wake up on the right side of the bed" you joked as you watched kim roll her eyes a small scoff coming from her.

"anddd she back! there's the y/n i know!"

it was the next day and it was safe to say you hardly slept spending too long up thinking about what you would do if you didn't get the call up, all those extra sessions, all those days spent trying to change your behaviour would have been for nothing.

but also thinking about what you would do if you did get the call up, how happy you would be and how proud your family would be of you.

walking into the colony you were tired, you were dragging your feet as your walked. your body feeling tired and you hadn't even done anything today yet.

grabbing your usual breakfast and slouching down on a chair on the closest table. "heard anything yet?" you looked up to see leah raising her eyebrows at you. shaking your head you began to eat praying it would wake you up a little.

"the list doesn't get posted until 12 so—" you hummed along with whatever leah was saying before you along with the other who were sat on your table fell into your usual small talk.

"y/n! your phones ringing!" alessia tapped you on the shoulder, your eyes snapping to the phone screen an unknown number on the screen.

"well answer it then!" leah said quickly as you scrambled to answer. standing up and walking over to the stand in the hallway where you'd be able to hear whoever was calling better.

leah, along with beth, kim, lia and alessia were all looking trying to decipher what you were saying and what the scenario was.

"do you think she's got the call up?" beth whispered as leah was trying so hard to lip read what you were saying but was really having no luck as she hadn't a clue what you were saying.

"surely, she'd be a great addition to the squad for the euros" alessia pointed out as beth hummed, along with lia and kim nodding along.

"oh she'll be gutted if she doesn't get it" lia sighed as kim give a knowing look. while she was silently praying for you hoping that you would as she dread to think about your reaction if you didn't get it.

"will you shut up i'm trying to listen!" leah huffed as she scowl at the group before going back to try her lip reading again it feeling as though you'd been standing in that hallway on the phone for the last hour when in reality it had been probably less than ten minutes.

"how is she able to hear when there's a wall there-" alessia whispered in beth's direction as beth shrugged waving off what leah had just said.

"right act normal she coming back-" leah spoke fast turning her body back around to the position she was sat in when you left trying to make out that she hadn't just been intensely staring at the conversation you were having on the phone.

"oh no she doesn't look very happy-" lia whispered, you walking in a small frown on your face. as your shoulders were hanging low as you sighed sitting down in your original seat.

"oh- y/n i'm so sor—"

"I'M GOING TO THE EUROS BABY!" you cheered, your face changing in a split second from a frown to a big cheesy grin as the canteen when quiet for a minute as they all processed what you'd said.

the girls all jumped up hugging you and congratulating you as they told you how proud they were of you.

“what did sarina say?” beth asked as the celebrations calmed down and everyone had sat back down.

“she just said she’d seen how well i’ve been playing and she thinks i could be good option for a game changer at the euros” you said with the same smile, it not leaving your face and probably wouldn’t be for a long time.

leah sat listening to you as you recalled the phone call over to them, as she sat like a proud mother. "yes kiddo! switzerland won't know what has hit them!"

[wooziorgans]

Noan do you not feel anything for nerd!jihoon?!?!?? Do you not fantasize about him being a silent shy nerd until he have you in his room, on his bed, naked, screwing you, raw, filling you up with his load and still not pulling out, just staying in, connected and you wondering where's the nerdy boy.

Thee nerd in question btw (this guy in short hai is my so fqing favorite I can literally do ANYTHING for him 😭😭😭😭 please please please please jihoona)

— shy nerd uji

oh lord. oh he’s such a hot loser i need him. god did i have thoughts abt this. also ur other ask is being combined w another ask for the ultimate sub uji story. yeah anyways.

shy nerd!jihoon who practically took you under his wing in your shared chemistry class freshman year. you were lab partners, and he seemed competent enough to help you out personally with the labs, though you asked him for his number after the first class because he was too shy.

jihoon, who only wears tight fitting clothes on lab days because his regular baggy shirts and sweatpants are a safety hazard. you can’t help but stare at his muscles before he puts on his lab coat. his face burns as he slips his goggles on over his glasses.

jihoon, who helps you out with all the calculations for the remainder of the semester, even after you get the hang of it. who panics when you spill sulphuric acid on yourself, even though it has a low molarity so it won’t burn you.

jihoon, who you end up becoming pretty good friends with, even though you only see him once a week in your lab section. he always answers your questions about chemistry, even if you have different professors.

he slowly opens up to you, and you find out in your last study session that he’s actually a music major. you beg him to show you some of his songs, and he agrees, red in the face. on the condition you do well on your chem final.

jihoon, who you managed to keep seeing and hanging out with, even if you no longer share a class together. three years later, at the start of your final year of university, you can mutually say that you’re each others best friends.

shy nerd!jihoon, who isn’t as shy as he used to be, but he gets red in the face whenever you tease him. he still has his walls up around you, certain ones that he doesn’t seem to have with the rest of your friend group.

you can’t deny your attraction to him. his glasses, which he always pushes up as he studies, contrast so starkly with his pale skin. his bulging muscles which radiate heat as autumn starts to roll in.

jihoon cut his hair at the start of the semester, and you thought you’d be more upset with the change, but you can’t argue with the fact that he looks hot as fuck with shorter hair. you’ve seen him grow into a young man over the last few years, and his haircut suits him.

jihoon, who also didn’t go home for the holidays, and so you both spend your week together, catching up on homework and studying. you also spend your break with a multi-day movie marathon in his apartment.

jihoon and his apartment, which you’ve practically been living in for the last few days. your overnight bag sits in the corner of his living room, dirty clothes folded nicely on top of it. your toothbrush sits next to his, and it has him thinking hard about your friendship.

he can’t deny the fact that he thinks you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. he can’t deny how domestic your whole week is going to be, can’t deny how much his chest flutters when you insist on cuddling while you watch movies. he can’t deny the obvious pull towards you, one he can only hope is mutual.

jihoon, who lets you throw your leg over his as you cuddle, his face burning at the outward affection. your breath comes out in small puffs, fist tightening in his shirt as you slowly start to fall asleep with your head on his chest.

jihoon, who wraps his arm around you, hand resting on your thigh. you crane your neck up softly to look at him; his glasses are slipping down his face as he tries to pay attention to the movie. he looks beautiful like this, and you decide to try and play off touching him as a mindless, half asleep action.

your fingers release his shirt, which had pulled up, exposing the base of his stomach to the cool air of his room. you carefully, oh so slowly, trail your fingers down to the skin. you push your hand back up, nails scratching gently against his abs.

jihoon grips your thigh softly, lips parting as his other hand grabs your hand to stop you. his cock twitches softly in his sweats, and you can feel it against the inside of your thigh. “y/n,” he pants, as though he had just run a mile in record time. you flatten your hand against his stomach, pinky brushing against the band of his sweats.

“want you.” you murmur, closing your eyes as you just feel his skin. jihoon gives your thigh another squeeze before his hand falls to your ass. you shift up on his chest, leaning up to kiss his neck softly.

in one quick moment, jihoon flips you over, off of him and onto your back. you squeak softly, all the air leaving your lungs as he straddles your thighs. before you get the chance to say anything, jihoon’s lips are on yours as he starts to kiss you stupid.

you start to pant into his mouth, completely in awe at how good he is at kissing. you had assumed he was a little bit more of a loser with very little experience, but judging by the way he’s kissing you, he clearly knows what he’s doing.

jihoon pushes your shirt up, hand holding your side as his thumb brushes over your nipple. it’s hardly a graze, but it has your back arching off the bed as he pulls away. he smirks at you, hands leaving your body as he pulls his shirt off in one motion. you gasp at the sight of just how ripped he is. jihoon shakes his head as he pushes his glasses up, a sadistic puff of a laugh escaping his lips.

“what, baby? you know i work out.” he whispers, and the pet name he uses has you reeling, back arching back off the bed.

“you’re so fucking hot, oh my god.” you gasp, hands pulling at your shirt until you finally get the damn thing off. jihoon just chuckles at how desperate and cute you look right now. he doesn’t wait for you to settle back on w your shirt is off. instead, he gets straight to work, pulling your own sweatpants down. his fingers catch your underwear on the way down, and he decides to just get everything over with at once.

the cool air hits your burning core as jihoon spreads your thighs apart. he settles on his knees as he leans down, pressing soft kisses at the base of your stomach. he trails down further and further, licking at biting at you skin, covering you in light marks that slowly start to darken. finally, his chin brushes against the hood of your clit, and your hands snap to his hair, head falling back as your eyes close.

jihoon laughs again, almost cruel, as he places a kiss to your clit. his tongue darts out, pushing its way in between your folds to taste your arousal. he moans against you, and the vibrations only add to the stimulation. his fingers slowly start to find their way to your core.

he drags them over your entrance, not yet pushing them in as he goes back to focusing on your clit. you look down at him, opening your eyes to find him watching you intently. jihoon pushes two of his fingers into your entrance, and your tight walls suck him in almost instantly.

jihoon locates your spot almost instantly, milking it as he curls his fingers. his lips are suctioned against your clit, and you can’t take it anymore. with the way he’s looking at you, glasses slightly fogged from the heat between your legs and his breath against you, you cum hard around his fingers.

jihoon lets you ride out your orgasm, and once your chest is rising and falling rapidly, you can feel him smirk against you as he pulls his fingers out of you. “good. i wanted to make you cum at least once before i fucked you.” he shifts on his knees, pulling away from your core as his hand finds the knot of his sweats.

he pulls the bow free, slipping them down to his knees before he kicks them off. jihoon’s hard cock slaps his stomach and you lose your breath once again. his cock is big, veiny and so hard. small beads of precum leak from his tip, and he wraps his pretty hand around the head of his cock, coating it in his arousal as he strokes himself languidly.

“you still want this?” he asks as he leans over you. your hands find the side of his face as you nod. “good. been thinking about this for so long, baby. you have no idea.” he breathes out as he lines himself up, tip slipping through your folds.

he pushes in, and slides home in one motion. your walls spasm around him at the stretch. it burns, based on the sheer size of his cock, but you’re so wet it’s hardly a real issue. jihoon gives you a few moments to breathe as he peppers your face with chaste kisses, before he pulls back out, only to slam back in.

the pace he sets is brutal, hard and fast, and you know you won’t last long like this. you guess this is payback for the years of teasing and sexual comments made towards him, just to see him blush and get shy. jihoon pushes his tongue into your mouth, chasing your moans with his mouth.

your nails scratch at his back, crescent indents left behind over the muscles of his shoulders. he hisses at the sting and grips the flesh of your thigh harshly as he jackhammers into you.

it’s so dirty, messy; the slick sounds of jihoon moving inside of you, the repetitive slap of skin on skin, completely filthy as he fucks you like his life depends on it. the way he pushes his glasses back up his face makes your eyes roll back.

jihoon was always so soft and sweet, a naturally kind and gentle person, so to say that you’re losing your mind right now as he fucks you into oblivion would be an understatement. you can’t think, can’t even really make coherent noises as he fucks you. he shifts your hips up, tip of his cock kissing your spot, and it’s over for you.

you cum, the sheer force of your orgasm knocks the sound from your throat. you feel like you’re about to black out; a hot, white wave of pleasure so intense that your senses numb for a moment as you tighten impossibly around jihoon.

you’re so tight and warm and wet, it only takes a few more thrusts for jihoon to spill his load inside of you. he bites his lip as he cums, head thrown back as his own orgasm washes over him.

jihoon collapses on top of you, cock still sheathed in your warm walls. his hands find your hair and waist. his touch is so soft and gentle, a stark contrast to how he was moments ago, that it pulls you back down to earth. you have had the mind to tell him to pull out, but the feeling of still being full, albeit incredibly sensitive, is so nice that you don’t say anything.

“fuck.” you pant, a soft laugh falling from your lips. jihoon rolls you over onto your sides, hand cradling your head to his chest.

“you okay?” he asks quietly.

“yeah. so good. i’m so good right now, you have no idea.” you laugh again, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone.

“i hope that wasn’t too much, baby.” you can feel him smile against your hair.

“it was perfect, hoonie. i just- shit, where’d the shy nerd go? what happened to you?” you ask breathlessly. jihoon laughs quietly, pulling your head back from his skin gently so he can kiss you.

this kiss is so soft and delicate, like he’s afraid of shattering the moment you’re having right now. “dead and gone, baby. no more of that, now that i know you want me just as bad.” he whispers against your lips.

“good. i like being close to you like this.” you smile softly, pecking him once more.

“let’s get you cleaned up. i went kind of rough on you.” jihoon smiles back, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw.

“oh, fuckin’ tell me about it.” you giggle, brushing the hair out of his face.

“karmic retribution, baby. you can’t tease me for three years and think that your actions won’t have consequences.” jihoon laughs as he pulls his softening cock out of you. he hisses softly as he watches his cum slip out of you.

“remind me to keep teasing you if it means you’ll fuck me like that again.” you clench, trying to keep jihoon’s load inside.

“i’d rather you just tell me next time.” he whispers lowly into your ear. you wonder briefly if this new development is for the better, with the way his tone has you throbbing again. jihoon slides off the bed, away from you and you whine at the loss of his warmth.

jihoon throws his head back in a hearty laugh as he leans back over you to pick you up and carry you to the bathroom.

shy nerd! jihoon, who is all but dead and gone as he runs you a warm bath to soothe your aching muscles. he kisses you sweetly as he sets you down on the counter, massages your thighs and scalp in the warm water.

[rafesslxt]

SUPP IM BACK WITH ANOTHER REQUEST!! How about professor riddle marks ur work but u didn't get good grades so he punishes u? xoxo mattheosslut22

omg i smiled at this like a fool and my boyfriend asked me what I was smiling about hahaha - yes my real boyfriend, not mattheo duh

thank you for requesting doll 🫶🏻 I‘m already writing a professor one shot right now but with more plot, just have to finish it 👀

Bad student | Professor!Mattheo Riddle

summary: Professor Riddle and you have a special agreement.

warnings: professor x student so don‘t read if you don‘t like, kissing, teasing, fingering, unprotected p in v

words: 2,4k

I looked down at the paper I got back from Professor Riddle. I got an F. Fuck. My gaze wanders up as he looks at me with raised eyebrows and a kind of disappointed look on his face. "You might want to come to me after class." he says in a chilli tone.

Professor Riddle and I have an agreement. A secret one. If I continue to write bad notes, he stops fucking me. As a motivation. And If I get good ones, I get a reward - which is his dick. As a motivation of course.

I sigh and nod but he already left to give the rest of the students their papers back, which of course were all better than mine.

He continues with class and tries to explain everything but I only can concentrate on what‘s going to happen after this class. It is the last one I have today which means I have time and don‘t need to rush out, which is good. Or bad? I don‘t know yet and that‘s exactly what worries me.

The ring interrupts my thoughs and brings me back to the reality. That I‘m alone with him. I swallow the clump in my throat down and gather my things together.

As I walk to the front of the classroom and towards his desk he doesn‘t even look at me. I breath out, loudly. " Sooo.." i start and try to get him to look up but he still doesn‘t.

While correcting another test and sqribbling something on it he talks " You know what our arrangement was,right? " "Mattheo I - I mean Professor I‘m really sorry okay? I promise it won‘t happen again!" I almost begged. I couldn‘t imagine losing him and our sessions, they got me addicted.

"Yeah you said that the last few times you got a bad grade but now an F? No y/n." "Pleease, fuck there has to be something that I can do! I‘m literally begging you."

I saw him smirking a little and I knew he loved to hear me beg like this, litte fucker.

"I swear I‘m always paying attention I just - I didn‘t have had time to study with quidditch and everything." I wasn‘t even lying on that.

"Prove it. I‘ll ask you Questions and you‘ll have to get at least.. 8 out them right. If not, you can come back when you write good once again after the holiday‘s"

I looked at him in shock. "Holidays?!“ "Yeah, the next test we write is after the holidays." I shook my head, not able to live that long without that dick. I know how desperate I sound, but that was exactly how good he fucked me. I tried to forget him, tried to find fun somewhere else but It was useless with these boys at school. He just knew every single move to get me trembling under his touch.

"Okay okay.. give me those questions." "Sit down." I did as soon as he told me to and looked up at him as he stands up and walks to the desk I‘m sitting on.

"First question: Let‘s start with a easy one.. Which spell will cast a body bind upon an enemy?" he asks me, looking directly into my eyes. I lick my lips before answering. "Petrificus Totalus."

"What‘s the strongest love potion in the world?" I started smiling when the memory of him showing it to us last week came back. "Amortentia." I answered him. "What did you smell?" he asks curious as he slowly places his hands beside me on the table, getting closer to my body. "Does that count as a question?" i ask him in a teasing tone. "Answer." he says in a demanding one but I didn‘t miss the excitement in his eyes." So I answer him. "You."

"Smelled you too.“ he mumbles as he gets closer to my neck which leaves me nervous and with goosebumps all over my body.

"What is your only defense against the Imperius Curse?" I felt his lips brush against my skin but still not kissing it which made me even more desperate. "There is no defense.." i answer lost. "Wrong." he whispers and bites the skin on my soft spot. I whine and squeeze my eyes shut. "M-maybe I need a little motivation.." i started and looked down at his shirt.

He rolled his eyes but still smirked a little as my hands found the buttons to his shirt. While I opened them he took out his wand from his back pocket of his jeans and spelled the door shut.

When I opened the last button I pushed the material to the side and let my hands glide over his abs which he knew i love so much. "Don‘t get too eager baby. You already got one wrong." Now I rolled my eyes as my fingers followed the contour of his abs. "Won‘t happen again."

"No matter how many legs you have, they'll all dance if you're cursed with what jinx?" I snort and answer "Tarantallegra. Easy." He nods and asks his next question, his face now on my throat again. "Which potion acts as a truth drug?" I swallow as I feel his soft lips now ghost over my skin again. I open my mouth a few seconds before answering. "Veritaserum."

His lips now meet my skin and I moan. "Correct." He murmurs, leaving wet and passionate kisses all over my throat. His hands find their way to my knees, leaving them there.

"One side effect of the Draught of Peace, If done incorrectly?" he asks me while letting his hands wander up my legs towards my tights slowly. I press my lips together as I feel myself getting wetter.

"Answer, I know you‘re a smart girl." he grins, kissing along my jaw, sending shivers down my spine.

"Irreversible sleep. " "That‘s right, good girl." he starts playing with the hem of my skirt.

"Who created the main ingredient in the Elixir of Life?" "Nicolas Flammel." He nods and wanders towards my mouth with his lips. I start to get impatient and shift slighty on the table, making him smile again. "3 more baby."

"What is the final ingredient needed for Polyjuice Potion?" " Hair." As I answer correct, his lips connect with mine. My mouth almost opens itself when it feels his tounge gliding over my bottom lip. His hand moves further under my skirt, his fingers now right in front of my underwear. "I can already feel the heat from you." he groans against my lips before his tounge explores my mouth.

I let my hands wander to his back, where I scratch his skin slighty, sending shivers down his spine this time. "Hmm love when you do that." "I know."

He pulls away from my mouth a few inches and looks into my eyes. God his eyes. "When must Wolfsbane Potion be taken to be effective?" Shit. I really don‘t know. I think he saw it in my eyes when he lifted his eyebrows at me. "Uhm –" "Come on. We had this topic only a few weeks ago." "The week leading up to a full moon?" I ask more than answering.

I see a smirk forming on his lips and his head shaking. "So much for 'i listen to your classes', huh?" I groan in frustration. "Are you enjoying the thought of not fucking me for that long?" I ask him almost a little mad.

"No baby, my hand doesn‘t feel like you. But I know you‘ll feel even better after weeks of not riding my cock like you love to do." Wait. His hand? Doesn‘t he have like a tons of women at his feet? But I didn’t have that much time to think about it.

"Name me all of the Unforgiveable Curses." "Uhm – Avada Kedavra, Imperio and .. Crucio." He nods in approval and suddenly I can feel his fingers ghost over my damp underwear.

"Fuck baby, are you always this wet while answering your tests? Maybe I should help you next time so you don‘t write F‘s in my class hm?"

"Ask the last one." I say in a desperate voice. If I get this one right I can fuck him, If I get it wrong, these holidays will be the longest I ever had.

"Okay baby, now concentrate yeah? We had this last potion lesson. How long does Felix Felicis take to prepare?" I smile brightly at him as I instantly knew the answer to it. "6 months." i answer.

"Fuck thank god." he groans and pulls me closer to his body, my legs wrapping around his hips. "10 would have been enough." I answer him, my hands already in his soft curls, tugging at the ends which made him groan even more.

He picks me up and sits me down on his desk, pushing my upper body back. "Gonna give you your reward now baby. You were such a smart girl." he starts praising me. "Well, have a good teacher." "Oh yeah?" he smirks and pulls my skirt off. "Hmm, Professor Snape is actually really nice." Suddenly I feel pain flowing through my thigh, making me hiss.

I look down at him as he starts to kiss the skin he just bit. "Careful baby, don‘t forget who‘s in charge here." he mutters against my thigh, nibbling on it and preppering it with wet kisses. My hands find their way into his curly hair. "Please.." i whisper as he does the same to my other thigh.

"I would miss those little begs so much If I wouldn‘t have had them to hear over holidays." he mumbles against my skin, his lips now on my underwear. He groans as he pulls it down and sees my glistening folds.

And just like a starving man he pushed his fingers through my folds before lapping at my clit, making me bite down on my lip instantly. "Shit.." I breath out, closing my eyes too. "Nuh uh baby, look at me while I eat that sweet pussy of yours." he smirks when my eyes opened up again.

I look down at him, seeing just his eyes and a bit of his nose. Not once does he look away while eating me out and I can see the desire he's holding back right now clearly.

I feel him sliding two fingers inside me without a warning, groaning when they just slipped inside like nothing.

"Fuck me, please.." I beg, not being able to wait any longer. He lets go of me, his mouth and chin glistening from my wetness. I see him licking his lips, with half a smile, almost making me come just from the sight.

"Gonna pound that pussy numb, baby. Just preparing you for what will happen over the holidays." Since we had that agreement, I stayed almost every holidays here so I could spent them with him. "You're staying, right?" he asks as he sees me in thoughts. I start smiling and nod. " Of course." "Hmm good girl."

He pulls me closer to him again until my legs wrap around his hips. His hands open his belt, pushing his jeans and boxer shorts down, revealing his already throbbing cock.

He lets the tip glide over my clit teasing me. His mouth is open, breathing heavy and looking at me through his lashes. "Ready Baby?" "Uh-huh." I mumble, nodding before he finally pushes inside me.

"Fuck yes, so fucking tight." he groans as he slowly pushes inch for inch inside. I let my head fall back and bite down on my bottom li to not moan too loud.

He starts thrusting forward with his hips, making the table squeak against the floor and echoing through the classroom. "I swear I will never get tired of this pussy." he smirks down at me while his words send butterflies down my stomach. I let out a little whine as his right hand wanders up to my throat, cocking me just so slightly but good.

"You still gonna write bad grades, huh?" he ask me, thrusting harder now. "N-no?" I answer but it sounds more like a question. Suddenly he pulls out and turns me around so I'm laying flat with my stomach on the desk. He spreads my legs and pushes inside me again, putting his whole weight on me.

A moan slips past my lips but he puts his hand over my mouth, grinning arrogant. "Let me guess, 'oh daddy it's too much', right?" he mocks while rocking my whole shit into the table.

He pulls his hand away from my mouth and wraps it around my throat again, squeezing with more pressure than before. "Shit Mattheo" I groan, letting my eyes roll back into my head.

"What is it baby? Thought you're able to handle it hm? Should I stop?" "No, no don't stop." I whine out at the though of losing the feeling of him.

Suddenly I feel a sharp pain going through my body. I look behind me over my shoulder and see Mattheo smiling at me like a innocent angel. Yeah, right. He slaps my ass again, this time harder.

"What? Did you think this is gonna be all nice and shit? You still wrote a bad grade. Gonna have to punish you at least a little hm."

He does it again, over and over again until my whole ass is fire red. His thrusting of course continues without faltering. "Fuck I'm close." I groan, my eyes already shut. His hand slides under my body towards my clit and starts rubbing circles on it with his fingers.

"Come around my cock baby." And shit, I did. I feel my walls clenching around him, milking him almost. I hear him groan behind me and his thrust getting more uneven. "O-oh fuckk.." I feel him coming inside me, his head falling down against my shoulder.

"Shit, you always do this to me." he says before kissing my skin. "What do you mean?" "You always pull me in, would have fucked you no matter what grade you got. You just got me wrapped around your finger." I smile at his words, knowing damn well he got me hooked too.

The end was Kida rushed I'm sorry, let me know If you liked it 👀

Taglist: 💞💗💕

@justarandomcanadiantransdude @sofa-couch26 @nevereverthem @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @atadoddinnit @auxcordlawd @helena-1105 @itsarajr @jolly4holly @hisparentsgalllery @slytherinscreamqueen @mixvchelle @miribenh26 @azalea3leaza @littlemadamred

thank you for every support 🫶🏻

Sorry it took so long but had a writing block

xoxo sarah <3

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Please, Please, Please

Summary: A lot can change in two years, but will your husband be able to gain back your trust?

Pairing: past (?) Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 3k

Rating: T

Warnings: angst, talk about past shitty behaviour, moving on, feelings and their denial, more feelings, earning back trust, eventual forgiveness, flashbacks, maybe... a kiss???!

A/N: This is it! The last part of yet another series that started out as a very angsty one shot I had no real intention of writing more parts of. I hope you like this last part. Now all I need is to finish my long neglected Joel Soulmate series....

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part five of invisible string

Christmas was approaching. 

The second Christmas you and your family would be spending in Jackson. 

And with it a long to do list to make the holiday as perfect as it was possible in these times. The plan today was to prepare everything for the cookie bake session the next day at the community hall. Your alarm bleeped early and you reached over it blindly with a long groan that turned into a cough that shook your whole body. 

Groaning you turned to lay on your back, your eyes blinking open. 

Trying to take a deep breath through your nose gave you another cough attack, your throat hurting, your nose stuck. 

„Fuck,“ you sighed, eyes closing. 

„Mommy?“ There was a knock on the door. It was Ana. 

„Mhhhhh?“ You sighed and the door opened. Your heard her footsteps coming to the side of your bed, your eyes opening. Smiling softly at her wearing the Christmas jumper Tommy had gotten for her and her brother only the week before. Patrol having found five boxes in the corner of an old store a couple weeks ago. 

Her lips turned down as she looked at you. 

„Are you okay Mom?“ She asked, frowning. 

„I think I’m a little bit sick,“ you coughed, voice hoarse. 

„Oh nooo,“ she said, about to crawl into bed with you when you heard the door downstairs open and Joel calling a loud Good Morning into the house. 

„Daddy’s here,“ she cried out happily before she turned around, about to run out of your room, stopping at the door, looking at you. 

„Get better soon,“ she smiled before she turned around and ran down the hallway, leaving you chuckling to yourself. 

You must have fallen asleep again at some point, the sun already high up in the sky when your eyes blinked open the next time. You tried to take a deep breath which only ended in another coughing fit. 

You looked around the room, surprised when you found a full bottle of water on your bedside table. Next to it was one of those herbal scent candles lighted you knew one of the nurses from the clinic made in her free time and you think you could scent the eucalyptus. But maybe that was just wishful thinking.

„You’re awake,“ you were startled, your head turning towards the voice, finding Joel leaning in the doorway. 

„Barely,“ you croaked and he hummed. 

„I got the kids to school and I shovelled the snow in front of the house. I also started some chicken soup downstairs and Tommy will get some honey so I can make you your favourite tea,“ he said and a small smile sneaked to your face. 

„You remember my favourite tea?“ You asked and he looked almost insulted. 

„With the amount of times you asked me to keep an eye out for honey and lemon? You bet I do,“ he winked.

You still did not know how to react to him causally mentioning things like these. 

The last almost two years had been a constant back and forth on your journey to learning to trust Joel again. And he was working hard to get you to trust him again. 

You had talked. A lot. 

Which was so unlike the Joel you had married in Boston. He answered every question you had and apologised over and over again until you told him to stop. 

Deep down you had forgiven him a long time ago, and you told him so. Because it was hard to hold a grudge over someone who had such a big part in your life.

But that did not mean things could just go back to the way they were before. 

Something he agreed on. He did not want to get back to how things were. Because the way he treated you was not how a husband should treat his wife. And if you’d give him a chance to show him how he wanted to treat you if you’d let him, he’d love to have one. 

That was how family dinner started. 

Once per week in your house. 

Once in his house. 

And occasionally at Tommy and Maria’s.

In the beginning your brother joined the dinners too, still not trusting Joel completely, at least not with you and his family. 

Outside of that they became quite the patrol team, becoming partners. Calvin trusted Joel to have his back and vice versa. But it took longer to gain that trust when it came to you and the kids. 

You actually had one of your biggest fights with your brother when you wanted to tell Ana and Leo that Joel was their father. 

It was almost a year ago. 

You could see the longing in Joel’s eyes every time he was looking at the two children.

And even though it scared the shit out of you to tell them the truth and let Joel into your life like that, you knew your kids life would be better with Joel as their father. 

Because above all, Joel was a Dad. 

He had spoken a lot to you about Sarah and how losing her made him lose the part of himself that kept him going. That kept him human. 

He told you that he felt a little like that again when he met you, when you were together. But so many things had happened that made him fear for what would happen if you were taken from him too, that he always kept you at arms length. Even though all he wanted was to just love on you.

That part of him had died, or so he thought. 

Loosing you for real had made him spiral so badly, he had woken up in the FEDRA hospital with no recollection of how he got there. 

Apparently while drinking himself into a coma his heart had given out and he had a heart attack. 

If it wasn’t for Tess coming to pick him up for a drop he would have died. 

And it was only after then that he realised how much he was the problem in the situation he was in. 

Which apparently did not mean he wanted to change. 

No, things got even worse before they got better, but Joel did not want to go into detail about that. 

It was only after he was tasked with taking Ellie to the fireflies, you knew she was immune by now, that he felt like he was starting to heal. It was her that did it, and he told you that he was sorry he could not do it for you. That you had to live with a shell of a man. 

More than once he asked you how you could ever have fallen in love with him in the first place to which you only said

„The moment I first saw you I knew that you would be it for me. It was you or no one, Joel.“

And so, a week before Joel’s birthday you had sat him down and told him that you wanted to tell Ana and Leo that he was their father.

A news that was taken with big eyes and excited shouts of „I always wanted a Daddy!“ by both of your kids when you finally told them. 

Yet when a month after Ana and Leo asked you if they could have a sleepover at their Daddy’s place you found yourself agreeing only reluctantly. Frankly, you did not know what to do with yourself when your kids weren’t around. Because ever since you had given birth to them, you were never apart for more than a couple of hours. 

This would be two days.

You think it was the panic of being completely alone in your house that made you agree to meet up for dinner with Nick, Jackson’s dentist. 

He was in his late forties and had been in Jackson for the last five years. 

And it was only after almost an hour into the dinner that you realised that he thought this was a date. A date you had said yes to. 

Internally panicking you had excused yourself with a very much not existent headache, making your way to Maria and Tommy’s where you and Maria had a glass of Jackson’s first red wine and a much needed talk which made you come to the realisation that the thought of dating, let alone being together with anyone other than Joel was so foreign to you that for some reason you let Maria talk you into an actual date with Nick. 

It seemed logical to you after two glasses of wine.

Something you regretted by the time the date ended and you had allowed Nick to kiss you. 

You felt absolutely nothing.

Thankfully he felt the same way.

What you did not know was that Joel had seen the two of you kiss. He had been on his way to the Bison to pick up leftover cake for the kids, Ellie was at home with Ana and Leo. 

It was only when Tommy walked by, watching Joel stare at the spot you and Nick had long been gone from that Joel snapped out of his trance, the cake long forgotten as he walked back to his house. 

He had asked you about it the next morning, wanting to know if he still had a chance to make things right with you. 

And seeing him like that, almost desperate at the thought of having lost you for good, stirred something in you. 

So in a move neither you or him had seen coming, you had kissed him. 

It was just a quick peck, so quick you did not even realise it happened until after when you saw Joel’s surprised expression. He just looked down at you, his lips parted in surprise. You were torn if you wanted to run out for the door or if you wanted more. So you didn’t fight him when he pulled you closer, his arm hesitantly coming to wrap around your body, his face lowering to catch your lips in a kiss that would be consuming your every waking thought in the near future. 

He kissed you like you were his oxygen, and it stirred something inside of you, you thought you had forgotten. 

Joel moaned when you let your fingers scratch through his hair, his whole body seemingly jumping in surprise. 

Parting from your lips, he rested his forehead against yours. 

A tear slipped down his cheek as he smiled at you. 

„I gotta pick up the kids from school,“ he whispered and you took a deep breath. 

„I know,“ you whispered back. 

He pecked your lips again, before he very reluctantly let go of you. 

„See you at my place for family dinner later?“ He asked, to which you only nodded. He smiled, making you laugh when he walked straight into the wall behind him, cursing under his breath. 

That day was three months ago.

And while you haven’t kissed since then, you and Joel got closer. As close as possible without actually being together. 

Because there was a tiny part of your brain who was still wondering if the old Joel is lurking somewhere. If he would end up hurting you again once something happened that he could not deal with. If he would lash out like a wounded animal just to push you away again. 

Though deep down the last almost two years had shown you that he had changed. He was…. Content. Happy even at times. Mostly when he was with you and the kids. 

Ana and Leo asking if their Daddy could live with you was not helping either. 

Because you craved it. 

You craved having some… domestic normalcy in this crazy world. You wanted to come home to Joel. To have dinner with him and the kids every single day. You wanted to fall asleep in his arms. You wanted to wake up with him. 

You just wanted to be with him. 

The tiny part in your brain just needed to shut up and let you do your thing. 

When you woke up the next time to a coughing fit, the sun was setting outside. Taking a deep breath, or as deep as you could manage, you sat yourself up with a groan. You went in the bathroom to do your business before you grabbed your fluffy bathrobe, Joels birthday gift to you, and slowly made your way downstairs. 

You could hear Leo asking something when you made it down the stairs. Following his voice you walked towards the kitchen, a smile sneaking to your lips at the picture that you walked into. 

Joel was sitting at the kitchen table together with Leo, Ana on his lap. He had his tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration, as he helped Ana use one of the cookie cutters to make the perfect cookie, a big sheet of dough on the table. 

Looking through the kitchen you could see that he must have prepared the whole dough that you had intended to make for the baking session tomorrow. There was a big pot on the stove which probably would be the chicken soup he mentioned earlier. And to top it all off it looked like he had fixed the blinds of the kitchen window. 

„Mommy is awake,“ you heard Joel say and you looked back at your little family, sitting at the table. 

Leo and Ana were grinning at you, just like Joel, all three showing the dimple in their cheeks. 

„Are you feeling better mommy?“ Ana asked and you nodded. 

„A little. I might feel even better after I eat something,“ you said and she nodded. 

„You should have some of the soup Dad made. It’s super yummy,“ Leo perked up and you smiled. 

„I think I will,“ you said, walking over. You were about to grab a bowl to put some soup in when you heard Joel get up. 

„Sit. I’ll bring you some,“ he whispered as he walked by, his hand coming to rest on your hip as he did. You nodded, too tired to fight him before you walked and sat down at the table. 

„Daddy made so much dough, we can make our own cookies,“ Ana said, carefully picking up the cookie she had just cut out, setting it down on the baking sheet. 

„I didn’t even know Daddy could make dough. Or…. Cook anything really,“ you said.

„I have some hidden talents you do not know about,“ Joel winked as he sat a bowl of soup down you wish you could smell. It looked delicious and you gave him a small smile. 

„You gotta tell me about those hidden talents some time,“ you said and he nodded with a mischievous grin. 

„Will do. Now eat. You gotta get better,“ he said before he sat back down to make some more cookies. 

This is what you wanted. 

You wanted to have everyone you loved under one roof. You wanted Joel to never leave. 

You were back in bed after dinner, reading your book when you heard a soft knock on your opened bedroom door. Looking up you found Joel there, looking at you.

„Kids are in bed. I’m gonna get them tomorrow morning too, so try to sleep the cold off and get better quickly. Wouldn’t want you to miss Christmas over this,“ he said.

You nodded softly.

„Okay. Then…. Good night,“ he said, about to leave.

„Joel?“ You asked and he stopped and looked at you.

„Yeah?“

„Would you… Would you mind staying?“ You asked quietly.

Concern washed over his face immediately, walking towards you. 

„Are you feeling worse?“ He asked. He knelt down beside the bed with a groan, his hand coming to rest on your forehead. You shook your head, your hand taking his and pulling it down to rest against your cheek. 

„I want…. I want you to stay. Here. With me. With us. I want us to be a real family. I want to fall asleep next to you every night. I… want you to be my husband. For real this time. Because I finally feel like I know you. All of you. And I… I love you,“ you said.

Joel just looked at you. 

And when he didn’t say anything you were afraid you had waited for too long to completely forgive him. Your face fell and you were about to pull away when he kissed you, surprising you. 

„I love you,“ he mumbled against your lips and you sighed relieved. 

„I love you so much,“ he said and you carefully pushed him away.

„You gonna get sick,“ you warned and he huffed a teary laugh.

„I don’t care. Through sickness and in health, remember baby?“ He asked.

„We actually never said those vows,“ you reminded him and he hummed. 

„That’s why I’m gonna ask you to marry me. For real this time. But not now,“ he said and your eyes widened, your head shaking. 

„We are already married Joel. You don’t have to ask me.“

„Oh but I do. Because if we do this, I want to do this right. Fresh start. I wanna speak my vows in front of everyone who wants to listen because I will spend the rest of my life loving you the way I should have from the start,“ he said and you felt yourself tear up. 

„But not now. Now I want you to get better so I can take you out to show you the surprise I’ve been working on,“ he said and you smiled. 

„Surprise?“ You asked, he nodded. 

„I have been working on a surprise for you and the kids, and it’s finally ready,“ he brushed his hand over your cheek.

„Now I wanna knowwww,“ you pouted and he smiled.

„You will,“ he promised.

„Joel?“

„Yeah?“

„Will you hold me?“ You whispered and his expression softened before he nodded. 

Minutes later you were laying in bed, Joel behind you, his arms around you. 

„Thank you for giving me another chance at loving you,“ he whispered against your ear. 

„Don’t waste it,“ you hummed, already half asleep. 

„I won’t,“ he promised before you both fell asleep. 

[cxffecoupx]

here for you - hjs

hong jisoo × gn reader angst (?), requested warnings: slightly sensitive topic (reader is touched wo consent); reader calls shua a shithead wc: 1.4k author's notes: first time writing a long fic, so idk how this will turn out. to the anon who requested this, i'm so sorry this got delayed so much. i felt like this was a sensitive topic so i was careful in writing this. but i really hope you enjoy! do lmk what you think summary: your neighbor gets uncomfortable touchy with you. joshua helps you deal with him.

joshua had come to your house expecting a cuddle session and sleepover. what he wasn’t expecting was you bawling your eyes out five minutes into the movie you were watching.

“hey, hey… what's wrong? what happened?”

joshua had never seen you like this. so shattered and distraught. So… disgusted by something? whatever the reason was, it had him worried bad. what happened? what was wrong? did he do something?

“yn, i need you to tell me what’s wrong.”

he wanted to know what was wrong.

so you decided to tell him all about it.

it all started when you had moved into your new apartment. it was your dream, to own a place of your own. so after years of working your ass off, and with joshua’s constant support, you bought your new home. while meeting your floormates, you encounter mr. and mrs. kang, a lovely couple that welcomed you like their own child. you felt safe in their arms, until one day during tea time, for which mrs. kang had lovingly invited you, she went to the kitchen to get some more cookies she had made.

mr. kang turned towards you with a smile. “i hope you're adjusting well here.”

when you nod, he suddenly places a hand on your knee, slightly rubbing it.

“well, if you have any problems, do let me know." his smile made you sick to your stomach. he immediately pulls back his arm when his wife returns, and you just sit there, grossed out and wanting to return home.

and then another day, when you were sick, he appeared at your door, holding a tupperware container. “mrs. kang sent this for you, her special chicken soup for fever.”

when you reach out to take it, he places his hand on yours, a touch that lingers for a bit too long for your comfort. you pull your hand away quick, go back in and slam the door shut. Your eyes get filled with angry tears, but you just wipe them away before going back to bed.

your boyfriend interrupts you at this point. “why didn’t you tell me about all this?”

“because i didn't want to worry you. i was sure i’ll be able to tell him off someday, so i wanted to kind of deal with it myself.”

with all the tears in your eyes, you don't see joshua roll his eyes hearing this.

“yn, you not telling me worries me more, alright? we could have dealt with this together, rather than have you deal with it all alone,” he says and pulls you into a hug.

after a moment, you pull back and continue with the events.

last week, mrs kang had called you in to meet her son who had come for the holidays. despite repeated tries to decline, she had basically pleaded with you to come and meet him and you ended up being reluctant to go over. while at the house, everything was going fine unlike your worries. but all that soon ended when mr. kang placed his hand on your shoulder and slowly started sliding it down. you guess you were visibly distressed because the son seemed to notice and offered an unsuspecting excuse to help you leave. you had cried yourself to sleep that night because your mind was filled with this event that you wanted to rip off so badly.

so when joshua placed his hand on your shoulder while watching the movie today, all the memories came flooding up and you ended up reaching this state.

shua spoke nothing, hugging you once again, but tighter this time, as if offering all the comfort he couldnt provide throughout this whole ordeal. he closes his eyes and takes a moment to truly register all that you’d just unloaded. how much you had endured alone, carrying all this pain and hurt without letting a single soul know, because you didnt want to worry anyone. and although he is sad that you didn't trust him in this situation, he understands where that's coming from. he understands it must have been difficult for you to open up right now too.

he doesnt realise the hurt within him until a tear rolls down his eye.

“lets go to sleep now, love,” he speaks softly, brushing your hair. “we can talk about it tomorrow.”

the next day, joshua is waiting for you at the dining table with a cup of coffee in hand. the first thing he does when he sees you is hug you, and pat your back as he mutters a soft ‘good morning’. the two of you engage in all household chores and the morning passes away so. in the evening, shua sits you down on the couch with him.

“what do you plan on doing now? about this mr. kang?”

“to be honest, i… don't know. i think at times I can confront him, but then all these incidents come up into my mind and I just end up… crying.”

shua mulls over for a moment, and you swear you can see the gears turning over in his head if you concentrate hard enough. and then, surprising you, he jumps to his feet.

"i have an idea. let's go over there now."

"r-right now?"

"mhmm. we go over there, you tell him i'm your boyfriend, and see his face scrunch over, and we delightfully tell him to fuck off."

he grabs your hand and pulls you over to their house. the confidence in joshua's voice seems to spread over to you, but it doesnt last when you reach their door.

"shua, i dont think i can do this."

joshua holds your face in his hands and looks right into your eyes. "then, i'll do it for the both of us," he says and presses a gentle kiss to your lips before knocking on the door. mrs. kang opens the door.

"hey, mrs. kang. how are you?"

"i'm alright, dear. how are you? and who's this handsome man over here?"

joshua steps forward and extends him hand. "i'm joshua. i'm yn's fiancé."

your eyes widen. what is he even saying? you nudge him and this little shithead has the audacity to look back and wink at you?!

"oh dear, what a surprise! you never told us about this, yn. sit, both of you. i'll make you some tea."

mr. kang waddles over a few minutes later. his lips widen into a sly smile when he sees you, which quickly drops when he notices joshua. mrs. kang returns with tea and mugs and ushes her husband to sit.

"did you hear, honey? this is yn's fiance!"

mr. kang's lips curl into a sneer. what was even more delightful was the way he eyed you both when joshua placed a hand on your back and pulled you in during the conversation. he tries to go back into his room, but his dearest loveliest wife pulls him back down and it only adds to joshua's and your amusement.

time passes by quickly and you get up to leave. as you accompany mrs. kang to the kitchen to put away the cups, joshua sidles over to mr. kang.

"i've heard all about everything you did to them. if i ever see it happen again, i'll see to it that everybody comes to know of your dirty doings. i dont mean it as a threat, but it will become one if you ever attempt anything like that again- oh! it was lovely to meet you, mr. kang. hopefully we'll get to see each other again."

you're confused by the extra spring in his voice when you return, but judging by the look on the elder man's face, you realise that joshua's probably said something to him. you smile and head over to give a little kiss to joshua, part as an act to show mr. kang, part as a thanks for standing up for you.

the moment you reach your apartment, you cling onto joshua, who only chuckles before hugging you back. he ruffles your hair as you look up to him.

"thank you so much for doing this to me. you really have no idea now much it means to me."

he only kisses you back.

"by the way, what did you say to him? he looked stunned."

he kisses you once more before replying.

"i think only he needs to be concerned about it."

[cdragons]

Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You - Part 3

Previous Part

Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton. But goddamn, Oliver Quick was a fucking close runner-up.

Warnings- MDNI 18+, slight mention of blood, sexual harassment, Felix is delulu and kind of a pig, Reader just wants some fucking peace, Michael is Michael and the best, Oliver is Oliver (the worst)

Author's Note: Thank you so much to everyone who commented and reblogged! I didn't expect this story to gain so many readers, and this was a challenging chapter to write - but only because there were some scenes I couldn't add because it would have gotten too long otherwise.

If there was a God out there, you prayed for the coming term to be as wonderful as this holiday had been for you.

You really wanted to kick yourself in the pants for making such a fucking cheesy wish at night watching the stars with Michael.

Right now, you were leaning to rest your head against a bookshelf in a slant position. You had a splitting migraine that began from the moment you woke up and worsened with nausea from your tutorial. And you couldn’t even go back to your dorm for the rest of the day because your lab course for your gen-ed didn’t allow for absences.

“What’d she do now?” came a voice on your right.

You looked to the right and were blinded by a white and blue-striped button-down shirt with short sleeves tucked into a pair of tan khaki pants.

Your knight-in-silver-framed glasses, Michael Gavey, everyone.

All the guy was missing was a pocket protector with pens and tape wrapped around the bridge, and he would have matched every bullied kid in every high school movie set in the 80s.

You turned around to lean your back against the bookshelves and slowly lowered yourself until your butt was parallel to your feet. Blowing the stray hairs out of your face, you remembered to take deep breaths to prevent you from blowing up at your only friend.

“No,” you sighed, “well – yes, but nothing I can’t handle.”

Do you love your classes? Yes. Was Daria Martin still your art teacher, and did she still like you? Yes. Are the rest of your teachers mostly assholes that think all Americans are Appalachian hill-billies? Also, yes. But were you still not excelling and scoring in the top ten after every exam? Naturally, no doubt about it.

But were you as invisible and unnoticed as you were before the break came? No. Did anyone with a pulse give you side-eyed glances after your stunt with the 24/7 shit-faced He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named? Pretty much, yes. Did most of your problems come from one mythic bitch in a 5’3” flesh suit that had the ‘Juicy’ logo plastered on her ass? Namely, one in particular, Annabel – who was your assigned student partner in your tutorial.

Was your new name among the student body now “Psycho Bitch”? …Unfortunately, yes.

…Okay, so this term has not been going as well as you had hoped during the break.

Annabel hated you – like hated-HATED you. And you had no idea why.

You were pretty sure you were less than blank air to her last term, but now she was determined to make your life a living hell. Last term, she skipped every other session to do whatever Annabel did. But now, it felt like she came to every tutorial for the opportunity to tear apart your work.

You’re pretty confident she was the one who started your new “name” about a few weeks ago when the weather began to warm up.

It’s not as if you were a stranger to being picked and prodded by the people born with silver spoons on their tongues and blessed with golden-tipped wings. You were a public-school kid from grades K-12 who went to Townsend Harris for those last four years. Townsend Harris High School was a public school, but make no mistake – it was just as full of the same bullshit hierarchy that made up every private school in Manhattan.

"Open the doors to all. Let the children of the rich and the poor take their seats together and know of no distinction save that of industry, good conduct, and intellect."

What crock. You only survived those years because every kid knew that your dad was an NYU professor who knew the Dean of Admissions of Columbia. You couldn’t recall how often you wished you had joined your friends at Flushing High or even Bayside.

However, regardless of the snide snarks and bullshit snickers pointed at you, you were left alone for the most part.

Sure – it sucked; that goes without saying. It was naïve of you to assume that people would grow out of the need for drama once they walked through the ivory doors and marble floors of higher education. It was stupid of you to think that everyone would forget about your outburst at Bodleian while they were getting drunk on the New Year.

And while Annabel was one migraine-inducing problem, she wasn’t the worst part of returning. No, that title belonged to her boyfriend, a whole other can of monkeys.

The worst part – the worst part of EVERYTHING – was how Felix fucking Catton was incapable of just leaving you the hell alone. It was like he had a little antenna sticking out of his head specifically for you whenever the two of you were within a ten-foot radius of him. Everywhere you went, it was as if you had a giant blinking arrow above you screaming, “Felix Catton’s New Toy”!

No, you were less than a toy – you were a joke, a gimmick.

God, you should have just stuck to your original plan and applied to any SUNY school that would have accepted you without even looking at your application.

But no, your good-Samaritan-obsessed college counselor called your parents and complained that you weren’t “putting yourself out there” enough. And now you were over thirty-four hundred miles away from home, stuck with the worst people ever. It was like a thousand tiny prickles were running on your skin as your mind filled with static.

Whenever Felix called out to you, it was to invite you to a party or get wasted. One time, he walked up to you insanely plastered and invited you for a quickie in the men’s bathroom. You were in an empty lecture hall since your usual spot in the library was taken, and Michael was still in class, so you didn’t see the point in trying to find an open spot.

Somehow – without you noticing – the guy plopped himself next to you and asked if there were any rooms in the building where he could smoke a joint in.

“Pretty sure you could open the window in the bathroom to smoke in there,” you replied absentmindedly.

And then he put his hand ON YOUR THIGH, leaned to your ear to whisper, “Wanna get out of here to join me? We don’t have only to get high.”

You grabbed all your shit and booked it – out of the building and all the way to your dorm to take a shower that lasted for around twenty minutes. You wanted to get rid of the smell of nicotine and overpriced aftershave. The scent of him on your skin made you wish you could tear it off.

And in your panic, you left your bike at the building’s entrance.

When you returned to retrieve it, it was after dark, and you recruited Michael as your tall and bony human shield.

“Do not ever walk home alone at night,” your mom told you every morning you left for school.

You tried not to think about the haunted look in her eyes each time she told you.

“Wanna skip the dining hall tonight? We can walk to Crowley Street and order take-out at that Pakistani place you like so much.”

Oh, that perked you right up. Jannahs Express was a broke college student’s paradise. The food was cheap, and the owners took pity on the international students. It was slightly more expensive in the UK, but it was the closest you could find with food on par to Kababish on Broadway in Queens. You stifled a laugh remembering the sight of Michael drinking the entire pitcher of water after you dared him to try a dish at ‘regular.’

“Seriously? Do you think you could take more than ‘English-mild’?” you asked as you stood up. “How did you survive your mom’s cooking for so long? She made us Indian food on our last night.”

“Mum grew up in London, and she had neighbors teach her how to make it the traditional way. You’re the only person who could take that level. Lilypad and I got Dad’s taste buds.”

Choking on your spit from laughing at the image of Gregory Gavey’s face turning firetruck red, you felt the migraine slowly disappear.

“Yeah, I’ll bet. God, I can’t imagine the look on his face when –”

A familiar voice that left a bitter taste in your mouth after hearing interrupted your conversation.

“Hey, (Y/N). Can we talk?”

You and Michael turned your heads to find Oliver Quick – Michael’s former friend, your former acquaintance – and the sight of him soured the mood instantaneously. You narrowed your eyes to dangerous slits to show your displeasure seeing him as one corner of your lip curled to show a sneer. You never liked the guy. There was just something about how he acted and presented himself. He had a profound desperation to impress everyone around him.

So much so that he immediately dropped Michael after becoming Felix Catton’s new pet. As evidenced by the oversized gray zip-up hoodie blanketing him. Felix’s, no doubt.

Fuck, you hated him.

“Ugh, what do you want?” you snapped, taking a bit of pleasure in seeing how your voice made him flinch.

“Look, can we –” his eyes hastily darted to Michael, then you, then behind him to make sure no one was watching him “– can we talk in private?”

Seriously? That’s how he wants to play this?

In the corner of your eye, you saw how tightly Michael clenched his fists. He was obviously still hurt from the time his ex-friend treated him like shit.

Oh, this will not do.

“Oliver,” you snarled as you crossed your arms over your chest, “whatever the hell you have to say to me, you can say in front of Michael.”

“Can you please not do this now?” he begged with pathetic eyes. How very in-character of him.

“Tick tock, Quick. Are you going to talk, or do I have to throw a drink in your face again? But this time, I’ll smash the glass on your face, too.”

Seeing the look on his face gave you almost a perverse sense of joy. Maybe this is why bullies exist.

“Do you think you’ll be at the pub sometime this week?”

What the fuck? Was he serious? His question caught you completely off-guard. You expected him to ask for notes or even help with homework, as his grades have slipped since becoming an official Felix Catton fanboy.

“At the pub – Oliver, when have I drunk alcohol in the entire time we’ve known each other?”

“You’ll turn nineteen this year, right? It’s only illegal if you’re under 18,” he tried to put out convincingly.

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. But you’re forgetting the part where I’m still an American citizen. Just because it’s legal for me to vote doesn’t mean it’s okay for me to drink yet.”

“No one cares about that here!” he almost shouted. “Just come with me to the pub at King’s Arms for the next few nights.”

“No fucking way,” you scoffed. “My parents would kill me if they found out I drank on a school night. Also, in case you forgot, we still have our test tomorrow in History. And I, for one, don’t need to get sloshed every night to feel important.”

Michael tugged on your sleeve and nodded at the small crowd forming around you three. You sighed in silence, agreeing that it wasn’t worth it. You both tried to walk away, but you were grabbed and stumbled back, which caused you to drop your books.

“Ow! Are you kidding–” but a wince broke your complaint as Oliver’s hold on your arm tightened to a painful grip. Your eyes traveled to his face, and you were shocked to see the anger shining in his eyes.

“Why do you have to make everything so fucking difficult?” he grit out. “Are you trying to ruin my life?”

The way his nails dug into your skin made you curse under your breath. Seeing you in pain broke Michael out of his shock at how someone as meek as Oliver Quick could show so much aggression. He rushed to get him off you.

“Are you fucking mental?” he hissed at Oliver once he managed to separate to two of you.

But Oliver’s nail left red scratch marks down to your wrist, even breaking the skin enough to cause little beads of blood to escape. This enraged Michael like you have never seen. Staring at the evidence of his former friend’s clawing, he walked forward and pushed him to the bookshelf before grabbing his shirt with both hands.

“What’s wrong with you?” Michael yelled. “She already said no!”

You wiped the blood off your arm with an old travel tissue pack you stole from the plane you took from JFK to London last summer. God, everyone was staring at you guys now. You needed to find a way to contain the situation. If any staff catches you, all three of you may risk trouble. Trouble that would jeopardize your scholarships. You grabbed Michael’s hands to get him to loosen his grip.

“Look, I’ll hear you out–” you looked around and cringed at everyone’s stares, “–just not here.”

This calmed Oliver’s rage enough to get Michael to let go.

“Okay,” he whispered, “okay – yeah. Let’s go outside.”

The three of you grabbed your shit and quickly exited the library. You went to the same area behind the building with no windows – ergo, no bystanders to gawk at you.

“Okay, we’re outside. Look, I’m sorry about your arm. But can you please just –”

You lifted your hand to stop him.

“Okay, look. I only said I would hear you out to make you and Michael stop fighting,” you stated matter-of-factly. “None of us could afford to get in trouble with the faculty and staff, and it was getting too out-of-hand. Oliver, I am not going to King Arm’s tonight or any night you ask me. I have my own life, so don’t drag me into yours.”

Oliver gaped like a fish for a few seconds before speaking.

“But you have to! Please! If you do, then maybe he’ll –”

“WHO?” you interrupted, shouting. “Who will be there? Who is so important that you act so fucking psycho for five minutes ago?”

This was too much for you to deal with everything on your plate already.

“Cut the vague bullshit already! Why are you desperate for me to be there? It’s so –” You froze as an epiphany struck down you.

Oh, hell fucking no…

“Are you hoping that Felix will be there?” you asked through clenched teeth.

You felt like a volcano ready to blow with his slight nod. And like a volcano – you blew.

“You mean to tell me that you risked all our asses, attacked, and humiliated me for fucking FELIX CATTON?!”

You couldn’t believe it – you couldn’t fucking believe it. Felix Catton took up so much of your life already; once again, he felt it necessary to take more of it for himself.

How much more could one man take? How much more did he want until it was enough?

He had taken so much – more than any person other than yourself had any right to own. Your education, your peace, and what was next? Your body? Your life? Did he intend to bleed you dry of everything like a parasitic vampire he and his kind pretended not to be?

You were going crazy, insane, and running yourself tired all at once. The absurdity of it all made you laugh. You laughed and laughed and laughed until you were gasping for air. You laughed so hard that tears spilled from your eyes as you doubled over.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, “oh my god! That’s it. Of course, it is. What else could it be?”

Standing straight, you kept laughing, but you were staring at Oliver with an answer clear in your eyes.

“He got bored of you,” you accused him, “didn’t he? So quickly?”

God, how you relished how red his face turned. If you were smart, you would have stopped taunting there – but you were too tired of everything to care.

“It’s been what? A month? Maybe two?” you further pressed. “He really just loves to go through all his toys, huh?”

“(Y/N),” Michael whispered in your ear, “let’s just go.”

He looked at Oliver with disdainful eyes before softening them to look back at you.

“He isn’t worth it. Come on, let’s get your cut cleaned up before we leave.”

You let Michael gently drag you away from the hurricane mess that was Oliver Quick, leaving him to stew in anger and wallow in self-pity on the chilly spring night.

A few days later, you and Michael were walking back to his dorm after watching one of the most notable movie franchises starring one of Hollywood’s best actors.

“How could you not love Pirates of the Caribbean?” you cried. “Johnny Depp is beyond brilliant!”

“Oh, so acting drunk in front of an expensive camera is now considered brilliant?” he quipped back. “Shit, I should have just gone into acting instead.”

“I’m sorry, do you not remember his jar of dirt? That scene was completely improvised, by the way – including his fall.”

“Oh – not the stupid jar of dirt! Lil’ kept buggering me all summer doing that scene after I took her to see it!”

“Oh, I meant to ask. What did Lily think of the books I got for her birthday? Were they weird?”

“Are you kidding? She loved them. She keeps going on about how she wants to be Annabeth for Halloween. Oh, by the way, she’s making me dress up as Luke and wants you to go as Thalia.”

Your jaw dropped in shock. “Seriously?! Yes, let’s do it. I am so in.”

“She is aware that Luke’s the villain, right?”

“Don’t worry about it so much. She wants to share these memories with you. And you are such a good brother, Mikey.”

“I am never going to escape that name with you,” he groaned, “am I?”

“Nope!” you happily confirmed. “Never! When I write my speech at your wedding, I will mention it at least fifteen times.”

“I’ll allow six.”

“Twelve.”

“Ten, take it or leave it.”

“Ten it is. Pinky-swear.”

You held out your pinky to show sincerity. And like someone raised correctly, Michael respected the sanctity of the swear by reciprocating.

“Perfect! Now that that’s settled, is it okay if I crash at your place for the night? It’s so late, and we don’t have classes tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, sure,” he replied. “Just make sure you – Annabel.”

Wait, what? You stopped walking and turned to look at your friend in confusion.

“Annabel?”

He pointed it out in front of him with a slight nod.

“Annabel,” he confirmed.

Indeed, it was Annabel. But she was sitting slumped against the hallway’s walls with vomit all over her blue dress.

Felix had been going mad for the past few months since his and Farleigh’s return to Oxford. It was already almost May, and he hadn’t come any closer to getting (Y/N)’s attention.

What could he possibly be doing that was so wrong?

He invites you to parties or a drink with you every time he sees you. He had hoped that being friends with Ollie would have given him an “in” with you, but there was no such luck. Did you really have no idea how he felt about you? How much more obvious could he be?

He remembered how happy he was when he realized that Oliver knew you. It was that night at the pub at Kings’ Arms. He recalled it so vividly.

Felix was silent throughout the entire transaction. The sight of you coming over entirely transfixed him. Your hair had two small braids on the side that were attached with small yellow butterfly clips. You were wearing black denim overalls with vintage-looking patches sewn onto the fabric. Your shirt was a light blue-dyed shirt-sleeved t-shirt with splotches of navy blue. It must have been something you made when you were little. The fabric looked soft and worn down. But the size was small enough to hug the curves of your upper torso perfectly. The way the fabric stretched across your tits made him salivate.

After he introduced himself to you, you only responded with a grimace and a slight nod of acknowledgment. He invited you to join him and his friends for a drink, but you only ignored him. His words were meaningless breezes to you – white noise in the background that added to the clang and chatter in the room. He wasn’t even paying attention to Oliver until you threw that drink at him.

“Fucking cunt-rag!” you called Ollie after throwing Farleigh’s drink in his face. You shoved a middle finger for added effect. “Don’t ever show your face in front of me again.”

Grabbing your coat, you stomped away from the table.

Absentmindedly handing his friend some tissues, Felix had to know what your deal was with Oliver. Were you two dating or just friends? He didn’t know how he felt about his new friend being romantically involved with his angel.

“Wait, do you two know each other?” he asked.

“What?” asked Oliver – not understanding his idol’s question before his mind finally registered it. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, she’s a friend of a friend.”

“Were you two ever, like ‘together’?” Felix had to know.

Oliver’s eyes widened a bit before shaking his head and panickedly answering.

“No, no, no. We have a few classes together – that’s it.”

Felix couldn’t believe his luck. Ollie must really be his hero.

“Do you think you could introduce us?” he asked excitedly – his molten chocolate eyes were shining ablaze with hope.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Oliver quickly agreed – anything to keep his attention on him.

Felix felt like leaping to the sky. He could run a marathon with how much energy was flooding throughout him. He clapped his hands before grabbing Ollie’s face with both hands and smacking a wet kiss on both cheeks.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you!” Felix went up to get him another pint. “You’re my hero, Ollie. You really are.”

As he lay on his bed, he tried to remember every interaction with you. His last one with you was something he could admit went horribly wrong.

He wandered on the grounds when he stumbled on a building with your bike on the rack. Figuring that you were just in a lecture, Felix figured he could try to catch up with you when it was done. It wasn’t like he had anything important later. He would stay near the entrance and try to catch your attention when you walked out.

Simple.

And because he was God’s favorite, he found you sitting in the middle of an empty classroom. You were taking notes while reading a massive textbook while lightly bobbing your head to whatever was blasting through your earbuds.

Sliding to the seat next to you, he smoothly asked you if there was any room where he could smoke. You didn’t even bother to look at him while answering him – too fixated with your studies to pay attention to him.

Knowing that he had to get you to look at him through more direct actions, Felix impulsively put his hand on your thigh before asking you if you wanted to join him. He even joked, saying that you didn’t only have to get high.

But seeing the terror in your eyes threw him off. He quickly wanted to tell you that he was only joking. If you knew that he wasn’t being serious, maybe you would ease up around him. But before he could apologize, you frantically stood from your seat to gather your books in your bag before running out of the room.

Felix groaned into his hands as he recalled how fast you ran out of the room and away from him.

“Felix, you’re a fucking idiot,” he softly insulted himself.

God, what the hell was wrong with him? Why did he think that someone as studious as you would ever consider getting high with some bloke in the bathroom of an academic building?

Every step he tried to take forward with you felt like he was going ten steps back. He needed to find a way to get on your good side.

Maybe Ollie could – no, that was a dead end. Fuck, he needed a drink.

Lying on his bed, Oliver stared at the ceiling of his room. Annabel had just left with the bottle of vodka they had been drinking out of for the past half hour. He wanted to cry.

Why was everything going wrong?

But he knew the reason. It was you.

He was so naïve to think you wouldn’t be an obstacle. You had practically ruined everything from the beginning. It wasn’t just when you refused to help him the other day but also that night at the pub at Kings’ Arms.

While Felix was ordering him a drink, Oliver sat bewildered at the sequence of events that had transpired in the past five minutes. First, Felix invited him over to sit with him and his friends. And when things had been so well, you interrupted his excellent time by asking where Michael was. When you realize he has left your friend alone, you ask for Farleigh Start’s drink before throwing it in his face. You then called him a “cunt-rag” before storming off like a goddamn child.

Luckily, Felix hadn’t listened to you speak. But that was only because he stared at you – stared at you like he was born to worship you. Even worse, Felix asked him if he could introduce the two of you at some point. The way Felix’s eyes widened in glee when Oliver agreed enraged him – even more than when you insulted and almost humiliated him in front of Felix.

Staring at his back, Oliver figured Felix’s attention on you wasn’t something to worry about. He was only interested in you because you were pretty. As much as you infuriated him, Oliver admitted that you had a rare and genuine beauty to you. He didn’t know whether it was your indifference for Oxford’s gods and kings or your dedication to keeping in touch with your American roots – but it was enough to enrapture Felix Catton temporarily.

No, Oliver Quick had no reason to worry. He would be enough for Felix. And then you would be an afterthought, and he’d be Felix Catton’s everything.

Oliver had to find a way to ensure you wouldn't be a problem anymore. You'd comply - there would come a time when you won't have a choice.

Let me know if you want me to write the full scene of Reader throwing the drink at Oliver!

Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @arcielee, @valeskafics, @asa-do-your-thing, @aphroditesmoon, @axelsagewrites, @the1999kid, @poolnoodlerescuer, @aemondsbabe, @winterblu2, @abaker74, @whereismymindnow, @agustdeeyaa, @iamavailablesstuff, @bonnieblue0606, @st-eve-barnes, @nyxthoughtss, @immyowndefender, @ilovemydinoboi, @ahristata, @cxp1d, @jinsoulorbitzen12, @temptation-waits, @bollzinurmouth, @jcngw0ns, @seababehh, @destinydestnation, @lankyboi4, @mindless-rock, @cassavacakes

Please comment and/or reblog your thoughts and if you want to be added to the taglist!

[daisyblog]

Terrible Nines

Too Young Masterlist Summary: Arthur is going through a testing time and pregnant YN doesn’t know what to do.

Based on this request.

YN had noticed that Arthur’s behaviour had slowly been declining and his sharp tongue had been making a regular appearance. In the last few weeks, Arthur had pushed another child over in school, answered his teacher back and got sent off the football pitch in one of his games for telling the referee “you’re shit”.

In England it was the beginning of the school summer holidays, so Arthur had six weeks off school and YN was looking forward to flying out to meet Louis in Spain to enjoy a few weeks of joining him at the festivals.

The first week of the school break Doris and Ernest had come up to London with Louis’ grandparents to visit YN and Arthur. The three young Tomlinsons had always been close and due to being so close in age, were more like siblings than auntie/uncle and nephew. But YN had noticed during their visit that Arthur wasn’t his usual self.

Whilst a heavily pregnant YN sat outside in the garden with Jen and Len joining her around the table, the three children played together enjoying the sunshine before they had to leave to travel back to Doncaster.

As the grownups chatted about the two new additions that were about to join their family, after finding out Lottie was also pregnant, a sound of disagreements filled their ears.

“Arthur that’s not kind!”. Ernest stood with his hands on his hips and a frown covering his eyebrows.

Arthur shrugged his shoulders as he continued to kick the football around the grass. “I don’t care…go cry about it!”.

“Arthur!” YN shouted with disappointment as she heard her son being unkind to the twins. “Be kind please!”.

Without his eyes leaving the ball as his foot constantly kicked it. “He’s just being a cry baby!”.

Jen and Len shared a surprised look at the way Arthur was behaving, knowing he was usually a delightful little boy.

“Arthur Harry Tomlinson! You go back inside right now and have time to think about your behaviour please!”. YN instructed as she sat in her seat aware of others around them.

“Oh this is a joke…it’s shit man!”. Arthur kicked the ball in temper before running into the house.

“Stop swearing!”. YN scolded again. Shaking her head slightly knowing she needed to speak to Louis about the language he’s using around Arthur.

---

Anne had travelled up to London to stay with Gemma to look after her little one whilst she recorded her audio book. So of course Harry, YN and Arthur went to spend the day with Grandma Anne.

The afternoon at Gemma’s had gone smoothly so far. Arthur had been playing calmly with his little cousin, helping to feed her, offering to read her a story, and had even cuddled her to sleep. YN loved watching this side of Arthur, the loving and caring side.

Whilst the little one napped in her cot, Anne and YN were enjoying a chat and catch up over a cup of tea and Harry and Arthur were playing a board game.

Arthur and Harry had a lovely uncle/nephew relationship, and not once has he ever shouted or misbehaved for Harry so when that day came, they were all shocked.

“Uncle Harry? Can I sleep over your house tonight please?”. Arthur sweetly asked, knowing that the answer was usually yes because Harry couldn’t say no to his big blue eyes.

When Harry looked torn knowing the answer was no tonight due to him having to go to a studio session, Arthur sensed he was about to hear no from his uncle for the first time.

“Sorry little man but I have to meet Mitch and Kid tonight but I promise you can sleep over when you come back from seeing your Dad…yeah?”. Harry tried to break the news gently, already feeling so guilty for saying no.

Hearing the word no, felt like a hit to the stomach for Arthur who threw the dice from the board game with force. “Oh that’s not fair!”.

“Arthur? What’s wrong?”. YN asked from the sudden outburst and the sound of the dice hitting the flooring.

“Just shut up Mum!”. Arthur shouted as he stood up and crossed his arms over his chest in protest.

“Hey! Don’t speak to your Mum like that!”. Harry was surprised at Arthur’s tantrum but at the same time he wasn’t going to allow him to shout at YN like that.

“I just want my Dad!”.

---

Bedtime at the Tomlinson/Styles household was far from calm and relaxing. When YN asked Arthur to go and have a shower, he defied her and continued to play on his game and said “you can’t tell me what to do”.

After a big back and forth conversation and persuading Arthur to go and have a shower, he finally did it. But the behaviour hadn’t ended there. When it came to Arthur going to bed, he continued to switch on the light and try to play his game again, to which YN had to walk up and down the stairs countless times, which at 33 weeks pregnant was not ideal.

Sitting down later in that evening, the emotions caught up with YN. The Mum guilt she felt was overwhelming, she blamed herself for Arthur’s behaviour at the moment. She was worried there was more to his behaviour than she realised because it was a form of communication.

Knowing what she had to do, she reached for her phone and tapped a few times before she reached the name she was searching for. 

After a few rings, the voice she had been waiting to hear answered. “Hey babe! Everything okay?”. 

“Hi Lou…not really…Arthur’s behaviour has been terrible lately”. YN could feel the tears start again.

“How bad are we talking?”. Louis’ voice was full of concern, knowing YN was heavily pregnant and didn’t need the extra stress.

“Bad Lou…he’s shouting, swearing, answering everyone back…he was even cheeky to Harry the other day”. YN tried to explain without going into too much detail. “I think he’s missing you Lou!”.

“I feel so guilty that work is so busy at the moment…I feel like I’m letting you both down”. The pain was clear in his voice.

YN rubbed her hand mindlessly over her growing bump, feeling their little baby moving around as she spoke. “It’s not your fault Lou…you’re just doing what every other parent is doing and working to provide for your family….its just your job is not a nine to five”.

“Right leave it with me and I’m going to sort something”. Louis spoke quickly. “I’ll phone you in a bit…I love you three with all my heart!”.

“We love you more!”.

---

YN hadn’t heard from Louis since their phonecall the night before, but she knew he was busy so didn’t think much of it.

It had been a calm morning with just YN and Arthur enjoying so breakfast together, before they got dressed and headed out for a quiet walk together around the park.

When they arrived back home after their walk, they were both laughing together as they walked through the front door, which was something YN really needed lately. But what stopped the two in their steps was Louis standing in the hallway, a large cheeky grin covering his face.

“Dad!”. Arthur’s feet ran across the floor before he jumped into his father’s arms. “You’re home!”.

“Oh I’ve missed you lad!”. Louis squeezed Arthur close to him, not wanting the hug to end. “I’ve missed you so much”.

“How? Wait! How are you home?”. YN couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She wasn’t expecting to see Louis until they flew out to Spain in a few days.

“My family needs me”: Louis shrugged his shoulders as if it was obvious. “So I’ve come to get my three favourite people and take them back to Spain with me”.

“This is why I love you!”. YN quickly joined them in a much needed family cuddle.

---

With the pregnancy tiredness taking over YN, Louis decided to use this moment to have a much needed conversation with Arthur.

“Hey little lad”. Louis joined Arthur on the sofa, his arm leaving across the back of it. “I’ve heard you haven’t been yourself when I’ve been away”.

Arthur didn’t move his eyes away from the tv or say a word, knowing this conversation was about to happen. When Louis realised his son wasn’t going to say anything yet, he continued.

“I’m thinking something is bothering you and when you’re ready to talk about it…me and Mum are here okay?”. Louis had always been logical when it came to these types of situations, he had been an older brother so he was used to it.

“Mason in school said that when Mum has the baby that nobody would want me anymore”. Arthur words hurt Louis deeply and he was glad that YN hadn’t been awake to hear them.

“Arthur…I can promise you that…that would never happen”. He began to reassure the younger boy. “We would always want you, always love you and if anything we would love you more if we could because we’re about to see you become the best big brother and I can’t wait”.

“I’m really sorry for not being kind or good lately”. Arthur wore a guilty expression as he glanced up at his father.

“I know you are lad…do me a favour when your Mum wakes up…give her a big cuddle because she really needs it right now”.

Arthur nodded, a small smile began to show on his lips. “She really is the best Mum…you’re the best Dad too…me and the baby are so lucky!”,

“We’re the lucky ones!”.

Taglist :@jillsvalentinex @itsmytimetoodream @peterholland04 @youcan-nolonger-run @chronicallybubbly @macy-tpwk @wh0s-nadii

[occamstfs]

Higher Education

Bit of a belated 4/20 TF! Reliving the heady days of his weed-filled youth may not help a professor's tenure track. Enjoy! -Occam

It had been quite a while since Richard had cut himself some slack. He was on track to be tenured and the obligations and rigor involved gave him little time to himself. His department has really become more of a family to him than his estranged once loved ones. He spends more waking hours in this office than any room of his spacious home. Today he’s burning the midnight oil yet again as he mars a doctoral candidate’s thesis draft in red ink.

Seeing just how much of a scarlet mess he has left for this poor student he pauses to make himself a cup of tea. He certainly doesn’t want to be seen as too critical or crotchety, though he feels assured that his students know this. Upon returning to his desk he finds a small wrapped gift box resting squarely on the marked up essay. He knows precisely who it is from and chuckles as he looks at the kitschy weed-themed wrapping paper. 

Picking it up he hears something small and light shake around in the box. The tag reads: “Happy 4-20 Old Man, why not live a little- your favorite Candidate, Mac.” Slowly unwrapping it Richard smiles wistfully as he recalls way way back to when he was in undergrad. Walking down smoke filled dorm hallways bleary-eyed as he contributes to it. Just smoking grass on the main lawn welcoming anyone to open their minds at these little sessions. An alarm goes off on his computer shaking him from his reverie as he sets the gift down to respond to the pile of emails that have accrued today.

Richard begins his cookie-cutter responses to colleagues, scratching backs and brown nosing as need be to advance his own career. Not too long into this dull work however does he begin to smell that unmistakable skunky scent coming from Mac’s half opened gift. He scoffs and rolls his eyes, shocked that his subordinate would fully shepherd drugs into his office before pausing to remember that weed is legal here, in this state at least. He tosses the box in the bag making sure the scent can’t escape as he returns his attention to the ocean of busywork.

He cannot find purchase however as he finds himself impossibly distracted, the tea he made tastes bitter in his mouth and every so often he smells a whiff of the joint hiding in his bag. Richard rushes through a couple of responses before checking the clock and realizing Mac was right, partly that is. He can afford to head out a little early. It is a holiday of his youth after all, he thinks to himself smiling mischievously as he grabs his coat and heads to his home. 

Tenured he may not be but he makes enough to live incredibly close to campus. It’s about five so theoretically the work day is over anyway, but he lives close enough that should there be need he could easily return. He would be happy to even, he puts his hand in the bag and fingers the ripped paper of the gift box. Patting it as if to say maybe another time, though resolving to chew out Mac for such an inappropriate gift. 

Tossing his bag on a chair and entering his quiet home he pours himself a drink and heads to watch the daily news. As soon as it touches his lips though he spits it out all over himself. It was beyond revolting, for the life in him he can’t figure out why though? It’s what he always has as a treat isn’t it? He wipes up his mess and grills himself as to what on Earth caused him to do that. Going down the list of possibilities he finds himself distracted as wafting from his open bag is the impossibly alluring scent of Mac’s joint. 

For a time he just sits and stares at his bag, mulling over any real consequences there could be to just letting himself smoke just this once. He’s sure his colleague Dr. Bennet can barely go a school week without smoking away at least a day. Flicking the metaphorical angel off his shoulder he decides to go for it. It’s just one joint, what could possibly go awry.

The doctor takes one massive hit and remembers that whatever the kids are smoking today is leagues more intense than the kush he had back when. He coughs heartily and stumbles into his kitchen to get some water, smiling as he remembers the old adage that coughing actually gets you higher. He pours a cup for himself, spilling a tad over the counter and neglecting to clean it up.

Richard decides to throw on a record before returning to his joint once more. God he remembers loving nothing more than just sitting and watching his wax spin on his player as smoke danced in the air. He reclines back and immediately feels more at home. He’s lived here for almost a decade now and never has he felt more comfortable than this moment. He laughs at himself wondering why he’s waited so long to smoke again. Maybe he should text Mac and thank him?

At this his phone rings and he sobers up almost immediately, his first couple hits washed away as he sees a text from his department head. He holds the joint with his lips as he uses both hands to unlock his phone, smoke sailing wistfully past his eyes as he starts to read it. Sitting there looking at the bright screen of his phone alongside the ever increasing smoke though his eyes quickly dry and he sets it down. How important could it be anyway? The workday is over; he is under no obligation to respond, he reasons. Surely it’s nothing. He sets his phone down and goes to lie back on the couch and listen to his old music, taking another massive hit.

He struggles to kick his shoes off as they suddenly grow uncomfortable on his feet, almost as if they were a couple sizes too small, that can’t be right though as if his feet were growing in his old age. He laughs at the idea, picturing clown feet at the bottom of his thin legs, not seeing in reality that his feet are starting to strain his socks. Nor could he possibly notice as their odor begins to mingle with the overpowering smell of weed filling his den.

His phone vibrates again and he furrows his brow before his eyes glaze over as intended. His clothes all over begin to feel a little uncomfortable on his body. He grimaces wondering what exactly the move is before duh, this is his house! He hits himself on his head as he decides to just strip, he was always half naked smoking outdoors back then he may as well do so in his own house. Taking off his clothes he doesn’t notice as there is a skip in the record as it changes, the grooves warp, harden, and shrink as his pristine record collection diminishes into a massive, slightly disheveled CD collection. Richard certainly doesn't notice as he scratches at his chest, the only thought in his head as he rips his joint once more is “Man, I love this song.”

He giggles once more as he hears his stomach rumble and he recalls what a persistent issue the munchies have always been for him. In fact it was one of the reasons he quit back in his grad school, he simply couldn’t afford all the weed along with the food budget that satisfying his cravings demanded. Shouldn’t be a problem now though, he thinks, he is an, uh? Pausing as the haziness sets in his eyes burning pink as the thoughts in his head slow. He’s a professor right? Though his mind slows he continues his steady crawl to raid whatever snacks lie in his cabinet.

There he, surprisingly, finds a stoner’s paradise. The shelves are lined with chips and cheap pastries beyond imagination. He once more holds the joint in his mouth as he reaches deep to double fist some bags of chips, tacitly continuing to smoke as his stomach rumbles in jubilation. In his gluttony he drops bags to the floor and laughs letting the joint fall to the floor wondering if the five second rule applies to weed, guffawing some more. He hears his own voice in his head telling him to keep it down but as if he’s going to listen to that square.

He turns up his CD player’s stereo in protest as his inner monologue grows more agitated. Dude you’ve gotta turn it down, you share a wall with the neighbors. He stuffs his hand in the potato chips and starts devouring them as he reflects on this. Shares a wall? But that would be he lives in a duplex, or wait? He looks around his place and sees it smaller than he remembers it, right? Continuing to scarf chips getting grease all over his hands and face as, so far beyond his notice, it begins to produce more oil itself than it has in decades. 

Continuing to snack he hears his phone ring as his boss is fully calling him now. Stumbling up and over to his phone Richard doesn’t notice as his thighs begin to fill his underwear. He had lost a lot of weight from his long years of working and now that he is finally indulging once more it seems a healthy weight is returning. Rubbing together as he makes his way to the couch, the friction draws his attention to just how pleasurable physicality is when he’s high. Gosh he needed this. 

He grows distracted as he arrives at the couch, his phone stops ringing before starting up again as his Department head calls once more. Seeing her contact picture appear he says aloud, “whatever bitch” laughing like an ass as he hangs up on her and sets his phone to do-not-disturb. Once more there is a buzz in the air as the music set up changes once more. Phone now in hand he starts to play music the only way he has ever known, wrinkles and the few gray hairs that remained totally disappearing from his face as he presses skip on his phone and is awash in adoration as his all time favorite album starts playing. 

He sits there and just takes in the music as he rubs his slightly distended stomach. Grimacing as he thinks he should start hitting the gym. He hears Mac all the time talking about how much he loves hitting the gym high. His heart suddenly flutters as he thinks about Mac and grows giggly again. He feels a pang in his head that such behavior is inappropriate. He is a prof- He’s a? His mind strains to recall what exactly he is. His eyes search the room looking for any hints before landing on the TV seeing the Daily News that has been playing through it all suddenly turn to static before coalescing into the video game Mac was always talking his ear off about in office hours. In the once professors mind though the only thought present is, Fuck! I love this game!

Energy surges through his body as he searches for a playstation remote. His pulse races as his excitement grows and he feels a desperate urge to stretch. He feels as his tendons extend. Rubbing his arms across his torso he feels his increased weight begin to coalesce into firm yet weighty muscle. His hands twitch and scratch against his increasing strength as he controls on the couch, moaning and laughing at just how lascivious this pleasure is, his voice vibrating deeper as the pitch of the song and video game blast louder in his head. Haha wait a second, he thinks, I’m so fuckin’ sore I must already be going to the gym faded with Mac right?

He blushes and stretches some more, feeling his back arch and his tight torso stretches to its limit before surging beyond it. His arms raised behind his head they grasp at air and feel the sought after remote and a hat which he instinctively throws on. Ah this hat is Mac’s isn’t it! He is briefly confused once more as he tries to remember what exactly his relationship is with Mac. It’s? He’s, are they roommates? Rich looks around the room, eyes shifting to where there once was a record collection, no a CD stand? Why would he need either of those though haha, as if Mac’s apartment has space for that!

Mac’s apartment. The thought repeats many times over in his mind and his eye twitches as he feels a pain that the high cannot make pleasurable. Grimacing, he decides to try and focus on the game. Black ink slowly staining his body as he clicks buttons. After little time at all though he realizes, fuck, it’s been so long since he’d hit that joint hasn’t it?

Pausing his game he uses his bleary eyes to scan his apartment floor for the roach. He didn’t drop it in the chip bag did he? He checks far too quickly to possibly see it before giving up. There’s gotta be an easier way to smoke some more right? Out of the corner of his eye he sees the rocks glass he was using as a stupid smile inches across his face. Through the haze in the room the only thing Rich can see when looking at such a cylinder is a bong. Rich reaches for it, the glass growing taller and embellishing as he does. In a fluid motion he snatches it and starts to stumble around and look for a lighter. 

Lucky for him in Mac’s apartment they seem to be scattered around as if they were decoration. Thinking of Mac his mind is a sea of conflict again and there is a sudden urge, a craving, a need to smoke right now. He lights the bowl and before he even inhales from the beyond filthy bong he is at ease once more. Smoke rocketing into his lungs he holds back a coughing fit before a giggle breaks the line and he loses control. 

Between each cough he feels himself lose something. He sees Mac and laughs at the idea that he could ever be in charge. Mac’s older than him, right? He sees an unfamiliar house that he could never afford as it turns to static and shrinks into a small one bedroom apartment that doesn’t even have his name on the lease. He sees a degree he sees multiple degrees and not only can he not imagine himself having the willpower to get them, he laughs at the idea that he would even want to sit through a single college course. Smoke fills the air as if he were hotboxing the apartment and he rubs his body as hair pushes its way out of his skin. He needs to shave, Mac like him smooth. 

Feeling his body once more, flexing his bare body against the couch and rubbing his hands across his itchy stomach smiling without a care in the world or a thought in his head he hears a key turn in the front door. His eyes stay closed as his smile grows wider and the only man, the only thing, that matters to him in the world approaches. Mac stands over him, dressed in a suit as he clearly came from the campus and says, “Miss me, Dick?”

Dick’s eyes burst open more bloodshot than could possibly be healthy and he stares wordlessly, longingly, into the eyes of the man domineering over him. He’s a little confused at what the smirk on his face could mean, but Dick is confused most of the time, so he’ll just wait for Mac to explain! 

He doesn’t. Mac leans in close to Dick’s ear and just whispers, “Happy 4-20 Doc. Thanks for giving in.” Then puts his mouth over Dick’s before his mind could even recognize the words being said. He loses control instantly without a hand touches his cock as it expands heartily, no underwear to hold it or his cum back as he forevermore loses control over his mind, of his life. Not that he minds, how bad could life be with someone as nice and great as Mac watching over him! The two continue to make out on Mac’s couch, not caring for the cleanliness of the suit as the bong is knocked onto the table. From now on there is little at all that Dick would care about at all besides his master, his Mac.