#but like what's the point in dwelling in that feeling? that time is passed. it happened already. i can't insert myself into it now

[leveebreak-s]

rambling in the tags. this is about led zeppelin sort of but only tangentially

[aemondsbabe]

Stick it Out to the End

summary: michael is desperate to get into oxford's prestigious bullingdon club; unfortunately for him, they command him to do the impossible to gain admittance

pairing: michael gavey x bimbo!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, bimbo reader, mentions of hazing but nothing horrible/extreme, virgin!michael, breast/nipple play, praise kink, piv sex, protected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), oral sex (f receiving), consensual filming, dirty talk, cursing, what i hope is saltburn-esque humor, mild size kink, mild angst but happy ending, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 12.7k

a/n: images in the header are for aesthetic purposes only & are not used to describe the reader! she's back and she's long as hell but what else is new!!! this is my first time writing bimbo!reader and while she wasn't super bimbo-y, it was fun getting my feet wet! hope y'all enjoy!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🩷 my masterlist

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

Michael

Michael couldn’t help but feel his heart speed up in his chest as he wound through the quiet corridors clutching tightly to the cryptic note he’d found stuffed in his pigeonhole that morning – just a page torn out of a standard notebook covered hastily written red ink; wholly un-intimidating as far as cryptic notes were concerned. Really, he was surprised to see they didn’t put more effort in; with as secretive and imperious as this little club was, he had been expecting some sort of extravagant stationary, perhaps even some gold embossing. 

Coming to a stop in front of an unassuming janitor’s closet door, he narrows his eyes behind the gold frames of his glasses, staring at the door with a nearly accusatorial expression. Michael swivels his head once more, his brows furrowed as he checks and re-checks every door in the vicinity before turning back to the one he stands before. Scoffing, he unfolds the note with a little irritated sigh and quickly scans the page again, mouthing the words to himself for the millionth time that day. 

The riddle had been easy enough to figure out, some trivial little lines about dead men walking, the mob, finding God, and looking to one’s heart pointed right toward some hush hush basement beneath the Merton College Chapel. That, and it didn’t take a genius to see that each line consisted of a specific number of words, pointing him right to the very door he stood in front of now – 129. 

Fucking amateurs, he’d thought after cracking the code in under half an hour. But that was earlier. And now, as he stares at the stupid dull grey janitor’s closet door in front of him, Michael can’t stop the little tendrils of doubt from creeping into his periphery. He’s sure this is the right door and positive this is the right place and yet… janitor’s closet. He checks his watch, 11:50 PM on the dot, and glances up and down the dark, shadowy corridors once more, half expecting one of the twatty rich assholes to jump out and start snickering at him, making fun of him for thinking that a no one like him would’ve ever received an invite to a club like this. 

Shaking his head, he reaches for the doorknob anyway, he’s come this far so he may as well. He freezes a little when it actually turns and his blue eyes go wide when he pushes the door open, shivering a little as he’s met with a wall of cool, dank air – eau de basement, just as he’d expected. A little actually impressed sigh passes his lips when he pokes his head in, an apprehensive smile blooming on his lips as he takes in the eerie red lighting spilling up the stairwell from the God-knows-what downstairs. 

He winces as the door squeaks when he tugs it open but he doesn’t stop, emboldened now as he knows he had been right once again. He takes the stairs quickly, probably too quickly given that he hasn’t a fucking clue what or who could be down here, but before he can dwell on the idea too much, he’s faced with another corridor. This one, unlike the ones upstairs, is narrow and brick-lined and leads in only one direction, straight to another closed door at the other end. 

Michael squints against the bright red light coming from a spotlight that had been haphazardly set up on the stone floor and walks down the hallway, his steps speeding up as he hears the janitor’s door above him open and close once more. His breath hitches a little as he opens the second door and quickly steps inside, like ripping off a band-aid. 

He freezes once more when a strong hand latches onto his shoulder and quickly jerks him further into the room, making him yelp as he stumbles, trying to keep pace with whoever the hell is leading him. 

“What the –”

Before he has time to so much as blink, his back thuds against a brick wall and finally he looks up, the vicious scowl he’d prepared morphing into a look of disturbed confusion as he eyes a row of other students, about fifteen and all men from the looks of it, dawned with black –

Oh, Christ, are those ski masks? He thinks as he eyes them up and down, How fucking banal… at least it’s not hooded cloaks. He nearly rolls his eyes as he scans the rest of the room, taking in the dim lighting interspersed with blues and greens from more of those stupid party boy spotlights. Glancing to the side, he sees another boy in his year, some guy he only knew from a few classes and passing glances in the hallways, but even still he’s comforted to not be alone down here, no matter how cliché this whole affair seemed. 

His blue eyes snap forward as the door, the only door, to the room is opened once more and some other poor sap is hastily dragged across the room, only to be smacked on the wall to his left. Again, it’s just some other boy Michael knows from classes, though he doesn’t know why he expects any different – it’s not as if he knows many people outside of the forced proximity of a lecture hall. Which was really his only reason for putting up with this bother, for seeking it out in the first place; a quick flash of him placing a tightly folded up sticky note with his name and pigeonhole number in an old, beaten up copy of King Lear in the library played in his mind – the price he seemed to pay for loneliness. 

Distantly, the bells of the chapel began to chime, signaling the hour. Once, twice, and eventually twelve times – midnight. Time to start the show, Michael surmises. 

“Welcome, initiates,” one of the hooded men says in a tone that makes Michael glare judgmentally, his voice pitched down like some idiotic knock-off Darth Vader. He steps forward from the row they stand in and holds his arms out open at his sides, “Consider this your first foray into the Bullingdon Club.”

Again, he has to bite the inside of his cheek to hold in a scoff. This was all just so… juvenile? He was beginning to sincerely doubt that this was the über clandestine club that granted its members all sorts of connections to various businesses, societies, and insider information that even the richest of the rich couldn’t buy. 

Unfortunately, his face seemed to betray more of his emotions than he intended and the masked boy steps forward once more, his dark eyes zeroing in on Michael. 

“You,” he says gruffly, pointing a finger in his direction, “Something you wanna say, initiate?”

Out of habit, he pushed his glasses up on his nose before he spoke, perhaps foolishly bold given the situation. 

“Doesn’t this all seem a bit much for three people?” He scoffs, shaking his head slightly, “I mean, masks, really?”

The hooded boy stops for a second and studies Michael closely, one hand on his hip, “What’s wrong with the masks?”

“Well, what’s the point? There’s, what, fifteen or sixteen of you? And three of us?” He asks, glancing around the room, which he now realized very clearly used to be some run-of-the-mill storage room, probably forgotten about by now.

The boy laughs sarcastically and shrugs his shoulders a bit, his voice back to its natural pitch, “It wouldn’t really be a secret thing if we just invited half the student body, mate.”

Michael supposes his reasoning is sound and says as much with a little hum and nod of his head, eyebrows raising dismissively. 

“Anything else?” The masked boy asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“The masks don’t really disguise you lot that well,” he observes, pointing at one of the other boys standing in the row, “That’s Harry from Multivariable Calculus.”

“Shit…” Harry mutters under his breath, the sound carrying through the concrete room. A few of the other boys in the row lean over and place comforting hands on his shoulders and murmur words of encouragement, much to Michael’s dismay.

“Why’re you here, initiate?” The lead boy asks, turning back to Michael.

“Dunno,” he shrugs again, pushing his glasses up his nose, “Friends, I guess.”

A couple of the boys in the row make little noises, mutters of empathy that make the blond’s eyebrows furrow together in confusion as he glances up and down the line. 

“And this was your first thought? A secret society?” Harry from Multivariable Calculus asks with a little laugh, “Not like… chess or something?” 

“Don’t really like chess…” Michael says with a little shrug. Apparently a good enough answer for Harry, who makes a little noise of understanding and nods his head. 

After another moment, the lead boy clears his throat, which shuts up the rest. “Anyway,” he says, his voice falsely low once more. “Each of you will be given a task…,” his dark eyes glance between Michael and the other two boys as he paces in front of them, “Perfectly customized to challenge you, to push you to your absolute limits.” 

The masked boy pauses his little speech and gestures back to three of the other boys standing in the row behind him who then step forward and walk over to the dank brick wall that Michael and the other two boys stand against. He studies the boy that walks towards him carefully, his eyes narrowing in suspicion when he notices how much shorter he appears to be.

Finally, the boy comes to stand before him and presents a plain white envelope, though Michael’s lips spread into a hateful smirk when he sees an all too familiar pair of old, beat up trainers on the boy’s feet. 

“Oliver?!” He hisses meanly, shock lacing his voice as he jerks back the hand he had reached out for the envelope, wincing as his elbow collides with the cool wall behind him. He glances around the room, noting the few pairs of eyes that were on him, before fixing his gaze on the boy before him once more with a harsh glare, “You’re in Bullingdon?”

The boy in front of him hesitates for a second, cutting a sideways glance toward a taller boy that was busy presenting an envelope to the boy to Michael’s left, before he sighs and looks back at him, blue eyes peeking out of the holes in his ski mask. “Yeah,” he huffs, shrugging his shoulders defensively, “How’d you know it was me, then?”

“You look like a goddamn twelve year old!” Michael jeers, his voice low and vicious as his hands curl into fists at his sides, “How’d you manage to get into this club anyway?” He questions, seething, “They only let you in if you have the money or the marks and I know for a fucking fact you don’t have either.”

Oliver sighs again and rolls his eyes, which makes him see red and grit his teeth, although he doesn’t miss how the shorter boy’s eyes cut to the side again quickly. He opens his mouth, but before he can get a word in edgewise, the blond cuts him off with a little mocking laugh.

“Don’t tell me that’s fucking Catton,” Michael groans lowly with a shake of his head, breathing heavily as he feels the same sense of anger and betrayal he’d felt all those months ago well up in him once more, transporting him right back to the stupid damn pub, “You’ve got to be bloody kidding me, is this shite little club only full of cunts?”

“Look, I’m –” 

Oliver starts to speak again, only to be cut off when the head boy traipses over to where they are, coming to stand ominously behind him with his arms clasped behind his back. His dark eyes dart between the two boys before he speaks.

“Problem over here, lads?”

“No,” Oliver answers quickly, staring warily up at Michael as he practically shoves the envelope into his arms, “Just complete the task, initiate. You have thirty-six hours.” 

Before Michael can blink, Oliver turns his back and stalks back over to the other boys, taking his place in the row once more. The head boy looks Michael up and down appraisingly before nodding to the letter in his hands with a sly smirk.

“I can’t wait to see how you fare with that one, Gavey,” he says, his voice low and threatening, as if he’s in on the most delicious joke, “Remember, thirty-six hours, initiate.” He chuckles softly and departs, returning to stand in the center of the room. 

Everyone stands still for a moment, Michael and the other two boys to his left and right holding their respective envelopes nervously, unsure if they were supposed to open them now or not. Thankfully, the head boy clears his throat, commanding all eyes to him once again.

“Initiates,” he says slowly, his voice no doubt already hoarse from this little farce, “Failure to complete your tasks will result in a permanent ban from Bullingdon; no second chances. We expect results as well as proof of those results,” his dark eyes scan over the three boys once more, one corner of his mouth turned up into a mean smirk, “We’ll be seeing you back in this location Sunday at noon. Your thirty-six hours begin now… have fun.” He finishes with a taunting laugh before turning and exiting from the room, the old door creaking as he pulls it open before disappearing into the faint red glow of the hallway, followed by the rest of the fifteen boys in an orderly line.

As soon as the old door closes, the sound of paper tearing echoes around the dimly lit basement as Michael and the other two boys hastily tear open their envelopes. Pulling out a little slip of paper, his eyes go wide as a wave of dread washes over him. His eyes scan over the paper again and again as he nervously shoves his glasses back up his nose once more, silently willing the chicken-scratch words on the paper to somehow change, to give him some other command. 

His heart is pumping so loudly in his ears that he misses it when one of the other boys tries getting his attention, his head snapping up suddenly as a hand waves in front of it.

“Oi!”

“W-What?” 

“What did they give you?” The boy asks, nodding at the scrap of paper in Michael’s hand.

He clears his throat and tries his best to come off as casual, though he hardly cares with the way thoughts begin racing through his mind. “Oh, um,” he starts, glancing down to read over the paper once more, “I just uh, have to sleep with someone is all.”

The other two boys gape at him for a moment before groaning frustratedly. The one that had first spoken to him holds his paper out and smacks it disdainfully with the back of his hand.

“What the hell?” He asks gruffly, glancing between his paper and Michael, “Why’s yours so bloody easy?”

“For real,” sighs the second boy, rubbing the back of his head, “Ours are damn near impossible. They must already be decided on you to go so soft. How am I meant to steal the fucking Selden Map from Bodleian?” He laments, brows furrowed as he stares down at the paper in his hands.

“Yeah, and I have to transfer ten thousand pounds out of the chancellor’s bank account and into mine!” The first boy sighs, shaking his head, “At least your mum’s head of conservatorship here, you can at least get within a stone’s throw of the map. I have to commit fucking wire fraud!” 

The two boys grumble for another moment as Michael silently descends into a tailspin, his blue eyes unfocused as he stares at one of the dingy brick walls of the basement, trying desperately to formulate a plan, any plan. He merely glances up as the other to head for the door, spitballing ideas for each of their tasks.

“Isn’t your dad the president of Julius Baer? Can’t you just get him to pull strings?”

“Oh, yeah, fantastic idea! I’ll just ring him and ask the old man to commit a felony! What could possibly go wrong there?”

Michael tries to tune out their bickering as the three of them ascend the staircase and trail out into the hallway of Merton College Chapel once more; the two other boys don’t pay him any mind as they continue whispering amongst themselves, their voices trailing quietly down the hallway as he leans with his back against the cool metal of the janitor’s closet door. 

Sighing, he reads over the directive again, his blue eyes catching on the sharply scrawled letters of a very familiar name, one that makes his cheeks flush and his heart race. He swallows nervously, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

How could they know to do this? He wonders sheepishly. It’s not like he’d mentioned her to anyone; hell, he’d never even said so much as three words to her! No, his pathetic little crush was entirely in his mind. 

Too much of a coward to even say hi, he bemoans, trying to stave off the sense of shame he felt as he considered how many times he’d finished with her name on his lips, her pretty face and soft curves and sweet smell and little girly outfits whirling around his head since he’d spotted her on the first fucking day; he’d pined ever since and she didn’t even know he existed! How could she?

This is fucking impossible, he thinks miserably, wishing that he had any other task. He’d rather steal the Queen’s own goddamn family jewels than this. He glances at his watch once more and groans when he sees it’s almost already two in the morning; pushing himself up off the door, he hangs his head as he scurries back to his dorm room, thoughts spiraling as he plots. 

You

A laugh bubbles up past your lips as you sway your hips, your whole body vibrating as “Umbrella” blasts through the speakers while you dance with your friends, partying to celebrate the end of term. 

“You can run into my arms, it’s okay, don't be alarmed!” You sing happily, yours and your friends voices mingling together with another peal of laughter; you take another sip of your drink as you move along with the beat of the song, savoring the fizzy strawberry daiquiri as you begin to feel a bit warm from the little rush of alcohol, already on your third drink of the night. 

You smile proudly as you spot Felix in the crowd, his hazel eyes already fixed on you, or well, fixated on your chest. His attention makes you preen and you bite your lower lip, the sickly sweet taste of your cherry lip gloss filling your mouth as you purposefully bounce up and down on the balls of your feet. 

The thin straps of your pastel pink dress hold on for dear life as your chest heaves enticingly, and you giggle when you see those hazel eyes widen just a bit, no doubt tracing over the glittering chain of your necklace, following down to where it settles, a little sparkly pink diamond nestling temptingly at your cleavage. You teasingly wink, blushing a little when you get a wink back, and go back to dancing with your friends, knowing from experience that Felix preferred to approach rather than be approached. 

You dance with your friends for a few more moments, grinding up against any warm body you can find as a raunchier song begins pumping through the speakers, before you feel eyes on you yet again. Smiling at the attention, you glance around again, the low, colorful lighting of the pub making it hard to tell exactly which direction your admirer’s coming from. 

Your eyes flit over a few familiar faces, you can’t help but sigh in relief when you notice that Oliver’s eyes are thankfully planted firmly on someone that is not you, though a confused little crease forms between your brows when you realize that Felix’s aren’t either. Turning your head, you sway along to the music still as you look around quickly, your feet beginning to ache finally from the precious little satin Chanel heels buckled around your ankles. 

Your eyes finally lock onto an unexpected gaze, a fresh wash of pink coloring your cheeks as blue eyes glance shyly away from you. A little giggle titters past your lips as you lean over to one of your friends, patting her shoulder to get her attention.

“You know who that blond guy is? With the glasses?” You call over the music, nodding over in your admirer’s direction as he stands awkwardly back against the wall by the entrance, clutching a still-foamy pint. 

She glances over before turning back to you with a little shrug. “Michael something, I think!” She says, her breath warm as she leans in closer so you can hear her, “I thought Oliver knew him!”

Your eyes immediately find the brunette, predictably following Felix around like a lost little puppy, before you look back over at Michael. You can’t help but feel a bit bad when you see him quickly look away from your direction again before staring intently into his pint glass, one hand shoved in the pocket of his khaki pants. 

“I’m gonna take a breather for a second!” You yell over the loud music, leaning in close and cupping a hand over her ear. 

“Aw, babe, come on!” She pouts playfully, tilting her head at you, “Stay longer!”

You shake your head with another little laugh and gesture at your feet, “These are sooo cute but they’re killing me!” You laugh, finishing off the last sip of your drink, “I’ll be over by the notice board!” You tell her, blowing a kiss as you walk away from the dance floor of the small, cramped pub. 

Finally, you reach the little area by the front door and lean back against the wall, taking in a much-needed deep breath as you pull your little tube of lip gloss out of your bra and carefully reapply some more, smirking when you glance over out of the corner of your eye and see a certain blond boy already shyly eyeing you. 

Rubbing your lips together with a little pouty pop, you tuck your gloss back in your bra once more before slowly approaching Michael, prettily manicured hands clasped behind your back to help shamelessly push your chest out more. His wide eyed stare makes you giggle and blush as you study him, eyes flitting appreciatively up and down his lithe frame; so much potential hidden away under a little button down and khakis. 

“Haven’t seen you here before,” you tease, smirking when he blushes and all but chokes on his beer, coughing for a few seconds before finally speaking.

“I… Me?” He asks awkwardly, glancing around for seemingly anyone else you could be talking to.

Lucky for him, you find his awkwardness endearing. Truthfully, you had for months, never missing the way his eyes always happened upon you in a crowd. There was something impressive about the boy, something that had made your mind drift to him on more than one occasion, even if you were already under someone else. 

“Of course you, silly,” you laugh softly, leaning against the wall next to him and tilting your head curiously, “You’re Michael, right?”

His eyes go wide again and nods wordlessly before finding his voice. “Yeah, Michael,” he says with a reserved little smile, “Gavey! Michael Gavey…” He adds awkwardly, cheeks flushing even more when you giggle, seemingly charmed by his inability to string two words together. He nods as you introduce yourself.

“I know,” he says before blinking, eyes going wide behind his gold framed glasses as he awkwardly glances away, “I just… I mean I’ve heard your name before, that’s all.”

“That’s all, huh?” You echo with a flirty little giggle, twirling a lock of hair around your finger as you let the moment linger, just wanting to push him a little. “What’re you reading?” You ask curiously, cocking your head to the side a little.

“Maths,” he nods quickly before looking down into his pint glass once more as if fizzling beer is the most interesting thing in the world, “I don’t really like it all that much, though… I mostly only picked it because I’m good at it.”

“Ooh,” you coo softly, nodding along with his words as you watch him carefully, “You must be wicked smart, I can’t do maths to save my life.” You comment with a little giggle, biting your lip when he seems to perk up at that comment and looks up at you with a little grin. 

“I can do it in my head,” he says lowly, an unexpectedly cocky edge to his voice that has your heart picking up in your chest, “Ask me a sum,” he says, a challenging glimmer in his eyes. 

You hum softly, biting your lip as you think for a second, “Uhm, seventy-two plus a hundred and thirteen?”

“One eighty-five,” he chuckles after no more than a second before scoffing a little, “Come on, give me one that’s hard, love.”

Love? The little pet name makes you raise an eyebrow before you laugh softly. “What do you mean a hard one?” You giggle, shaking your head, “That one was hard!”

“That was hard for you?” He teases, making your cheeks tingle as a pink flush settles over your skin, “What’re you reading, then?”

“Art history!” You chirp proudly, chuckling nervously when you see him roll his eyes a bit, “What? Something wrong with that?”

He shakes his head dismissively, quickly polishing off the last of his pint before setting the empty class on a table and turning back to you, pushing his glasses up his nose with a grin, “Ask me another one, then. Biggest numbers you can think of.”

You don’t know why, but something about his little challenge has you blushing again, like he’s testing you somehow. But still, you take a moment to think of some numbers, biting your lip and quirking your eyes up toward the ceiling. 

“Six hundred thirty-two times… eight hundred ninety-one,” you hum, cocking your head to the side as you watch him closely. His eyes seem to glaze over, only for a second, before once again he’s spouting off numbers like a calculator. 

“Five hundred sixty-three thousand, one hundred and twelve.” 

Your eyebrows raise at that as you gawk at him. “Wow…,” you breathe after a moment, blinking as you stare up at him, “You’re, like, super smart, then?”

“Suppose so,” he says, smiling shyly again as he tucks both hands into the pockets of his khaki pants.

You study him for a moment as the conversation lulls, finding something endlessly fascinating about the boy; the way he could swing from being so cocky and self assured to shy and awkward makes your stomach do summersaults. Turning your head, you spot your group of friends still dancing and you look back at Michael with a little sigh as another upbeat song blasts loudly through the pub. 

“D’you wanna get out of here?” You ask, smirking when he looks up at you shyly.

“W-What?”

“My dorm’s only, like, a minute from here,” you flirt, sweet and enticing as you make him blush somehow more, “We could go somewhere more… quiet?”

He stares at you for a moment, shocked that you’re asking him of all people to come back to yours before he nods and nervously runs a hand through his wheat colored hair, unsuccessfully trying to act casual. “Yeah, yeah, I can do that.”

“Yay!” You giggle happily, flirtatiously grabbing one of his hands as you saunter past him, heading for the exit, “C’mon, it’s like a five minute walk!” He nods wordlessly and you can’t help but smirk as he follows you like a lost little puppy. 

True to your word, it’s only a few minutes later when you and Michael reach your dorm room, after you’d stopped for a minute at the entrance to your hall to chat with Farleigh, who seemed very interested in the nerdy boy following at your heels. You just couldn’t wipe the smirk off your face as you and Michael left him standing at the doors, mouth open and a wicked little gleam in his eyes; no doubt, he’d immediately scurried off to the King’s Arms. 

The door to your room opens with a tiny squeak, blasted old building, and you all but prance inside, turning back to the blond boy still lingering in the doorway with a smile. 

“Am I going to have to invite you in like a vampire?” You joke with a little laugh as you bend down to quickly undo the buckles of your heels, letting out a relieved sigh when you finally step out of them, leaving you in frilly white ankle socks.  

Michael finally steps into your room with a huffed laugh and quickly kicks off his shoes, you smirk when you see his Star Wars themed socks. “‘M no vampire, love,” he quips, gold framed eyes darting around your room as he looks over every detail. You grin at the little blush on his cheeks and perch on the edge of your bed to watch him, head tilted ever so slightly. 

“It’s, uh, it’s cute in here,” he observes, his voice a low hum as he takes in your frilly, lacy curtains, plush white rug, and equally girlish floral bedding, all encased in the faint pink glow of the heart-shaped fairy lights strung up around the room, “Just like how I imagined…” He breathes, so lowly you doubt he meant to say that bit aloud. 

“Like you imagined?” You echo with a little giggle, quickly reapplying your lip gloss before setting the little tube on the corner of your desk. 

“I just… I – It’s just very… you, is all I meant,” he stutters, running a hand through his hair awkwardly, the apples of his cheeks flushed a dark pink. 

His awkwardness is so endearing, you can’t help but grin. The more time you spend with him, the more interesting he seems to become; this bumbling, nervous boy is so different from the one you’ve seen on campus so many times. On campus, he’s comfortable, quiet still, but with a definite air of confidence – clearly in his element as he prowls through bookshelves in the library or explains some complex math formula in the quad. 

“So, you think about me often, then?” Your voice stays sweet, innocent almost, though you can’t help but tease him; he’s so pretty when he blushes. 

“No!” He answers quickly, whipping his head toward you from where he’d been studying the various pictures tacked up on the walls, everything from boy band posters to stills from Clueless and Legally Blonde. “I mean, yes, sometimes, I…,” he fumbles again and pushes his glasses up his sharp nose, “I think about you a normal amount.” He says finally, glancing at you quickly before looking away. 

You hum softly and stand before walking toward him with a kind smile, though you don’t miss the way he keeps glancing down at your cleavage, or the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat when he swallows nervously. 

“A normal amount?” 

“Mhm,” he nods, gaze unsure as you come to stand in front of him, teeth biting into your plush lower lip as you twirl a piece of hair through your fingers, “As much as I think of anyone else.”

“So…,” you breathe, drawing out the word as you reach up and fiddle with the collar of his button down shirt, the turquoise gingham a bright blue blip among all the blush tones of your room, “Every time I’ve caught you looking at my tits in the library or in the quad or in the hallways… that was just a normal amount?”

You giggle as his eyes go wide, his lips opening and closing like a fish out of water. Deciding to take mercy on him, you run a finger down his chest, playfully fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.

“Relax, I’m not mad,” you shake your head, smiling when the tension in his shoulders visibly eases, “Why wouldn’t I want a cutie like you staring?”

His lips part at that as he sucks in a little breath, blue eyes widening behind his glasses. “You think I’m… cute?” He asks breathlessly, heart pounding under your fingertip. 

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip once more as you nod, cocking your head to the side just slightly as you peer up at him. “‘Course I do, honey, what’s not to like?”

Again, he gawks at you, blinking in shock and swallowing nervously.

“I –” 

“I do have one question though…,” you tease, pouting a bit as you slowly and carefully undo the very top button on his shirt, relishing the way his breath hitches in his throat. 

“Y-Yeah?” His voice breaks, making you giggle while he blushes somehow deeper.

“Mhm,” you nod, undoing the second button and pausing when you find a splash of hair across his chest, the same shiny wheat color as the hair on his head, causing a familiar knot to begin twisting itself up in your belly, “Why were you at the end of term party?”

He blinks for a second, evidently taken off guard. “I… W-Was it invite only?”

His question nearly makes you snort and you shake your head, the corners of your lips twitching as you try not to laugh. “No, sweetie,” you peer up at him through your lashes as you rest your hand against his bare chest, smirking ever so slightly when he shivers, “I just meant, I haven’t seen you at parties before… doesn’t really seem like your kind of thing.” 

“I, well,” he stammers, the bottoms of his glasses fogging up from the heat radiating off his cheeks, “I just –”

“It’s for that club, yeah?” You ask finally, giggling at the shocked expression on his face.

“How do –”

“You lot are not nearly as sneaky as you think,” you laugh cheekily, bouncing excitedly on the balls of your feet, “Plus, I heard Felix and Oliver whispering about something to do with tasks a few weeks ago… and boys are very bad at keeping secrets once you get their cocks out.” You add with a little giggle, taking Michael’s hand once more and dragging him over to your plush bed. You sit him on the edge before all but climbing in his lap, smiling cheekily as you straddle his thighs, your knees digging into your soft bedding.

“So,” you start, holding onto his shoulders to balance yourself and smiling a little when he finally touches you, lightly resting his hands on your hips, “What’s your task, hm? I heard they made them, like, particularly brutal this year.”

“I don’t think I should say,” Michael murmurs with a little shake of his head, making you pout.

“Oh, come on!” You bounce on his lap a little, not missing the way his eyes seem to be drawn to your breasts like magnets, “I want to help! Is it something at the King’s Arms?”

“N-No, I really don’t think –”

“I know they keep the important rugby trophies there,” you think aloud, still playing dumb, just wanting him to say it, “Is that it? D’you have to steal one? One of the boys that works there owes me, I could get him to let you in after hours…” You prattle on, speaking faster and faster as Michael shakes his head beneath you.

Finally, he seems to reach a breaking point and his grip on your hips tightens. “I have to fuck you!” He blurts out before sighing.

“Oh, really?”

“I… I have to fuck you –”

“Mhm?”

“And prove I did somehow.”

“How interesting!”

He narrows his eyes at that and peers up at you suspiciously, studying you carefully. You can’t help but giggle, loving the way you feel when his eyes are on you, and you smirk when he finally blinks in realization.

“You… you knew this whole time, didn’t you?”

A sly smile spreads across your lips as you nod, squirming excitedly on his lap. “Like I said,” you chuckle with a little shrug, “Not. Sneaky!” You tease, punctuating each word with a little boop to the tip of his nose, unable to resist. 

He stays silent for a moment, gazing up at you with a strange mixture of awe and unease before he finally speaks through a deep sigh. “So, I suppose this is the part where you tell me to leave?”

Well, that comment throws you off. You cock your head to the side, confused, as your eyebrows furrow together. “Why would I ask you to leave?”

He sighs again and grits his teeth, looking dejectedly at the floor. “Come on, love,” he mutters, looking anywhere but you, “I-It’s not like you’d ever want to –”

“Ever want to what?” You ask with a frown, gently grabbing at his chin and tilting his head up, forcing him to meet your gaze, “You think I don’t wanna fuck you, honey?”

“Well, I –”

“Michael,” you say pointedly, raising your brows as you smirk slightly, staring deeply into his blue eyes, “I’m the one that came onto you, yeah?”

“I… I suppose.”

“Mhm,” you hum, nodding your head as you run your fingers through his short hair, not missing the little sigh that leaves his lips when you push yourself closer to him, your chest pressing tightly against his, “And while I’m not thrilled at our first time being for some stupid little task –”

“It’s,” he cuts you off shyly, shaking his head ever so slightly, “It’s – I’ve never…” He stammers, nervously gripping at your waist once more. 

You can’t help but smile softly, so charmed by him over and over. You nod your head knowingly, raising your brows just a bit. “I know, honey,” you whisper reassuringly, “We don’t have to, I’ll let you take a pair of my panties or whatever else, but we don’t need to do anything.”

He sighs up at you again, so taken with you he feels like he could scream, and shakes his head more, grabbing at your hips tighter, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “N-No, I… I want to,” he nods, swallowing anxiously, “I do, I just… don’t really know what I’m doing.”

You nod again, listening carefully as he speaks. “So, is it all new or…?”

He shakes his head and smiles a little, shyly, though the sight of it still makes that knot in your belly tighten further, making you blush on his lap while butterflies swirl around inside you. “I’ve kissed before,” he says lowly, chuckling awkwardly as he seems to get bolder, causing you to shudder when he lightly rubs his hands over your waist and hips, “And done… hand stuff.”

You giggle at his boyish explanation and bite your lip when you smile at him, wiggling in his lap as a heat begins to settle at the apex of your thighs. “Can I kiss you, honey?” 

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat again, making you want so badly to press soft, glossy kisses to it, but you resist, determined to make this good for him. 

“Yeah,” he nods eagerly, blue eyes fixated on your lips.

You smile softly before leaning in and finally pressing your lips against his, both of you sighing at once. One of his hands stays at your hip while the other comes to rest in the small of your back, pressing you more tightly to him as your lips move together, his motions surprisingly fluid and practiced. 

You make a small noise in the back of your throat when you feel his tongue licking at your bottom lip, and eagerly allow him access with a little sigh. Your fingers busy themselves with unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, making him shudder beneath you when you skim your hands over his bare chest and stomach as his tongue flows with your own, the bitter, coffee-ish flavor of the pint he’d had earlier still on his tongue.

Impatient, you pull back long enough to look at him for reassurance, smiling when you earn a little nod. You kiss him once more before tugging his shirt off, flushing when he groans lowly as you trail kisses down over his jaw and neck before swiping your tongue greedily over his Adam’s apple, making his breath hitch. 

“F-Fuck,” he sighs brokenly, bolding tracing over your thigh until his fingers are tucked up under the silky, baby pink material of your dress. His touches make you shiver as goosebumps bloom over your skin, making you whine against the pale column of his throat, “Can I?” He breathes, fingers toying with a strap of your dress while the others slowly inched the bottom of it up higher and higher. 

“God, please,” you mewl, nodding against his throat, your head on his shoulder. He shudders at the feel of your breath on his neck and nods once before tugging at the bottom of your dress. You sit up to help him, whining when you feel his hard length pressing against your thin, lacy underwear, “You don’t need to ask, Michael. Want you to take me however you want.” You whisper as he tugs your dress over your head, blue eyes meeting yours for a second as he nods before they skim lower, widening as he takes you in on his lap wearing only a bra and panties. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes, making you giggle shyly as you lean in and softly kiss over his cheeks, “You have…you’re – you’re perfect,” he sighs, brazenly cupping your breasts, skimming his thumbs over your nipples through the thin pink fabric of your bra and smiling proudly when he feels them harden at his touch, “You’re perfect, but these are… holy shit.” He repeats, his voice breathy and mesmerized as he takes in your chest for another moment while you softly card your fingers through his golden hair. 

You gasp through a little giggle when you feel his length twitch, even through his trousers, and wiggle on his lap, blushing when the movement earns you a broken groan. “Yeah?” You whisper cheekily, watching as he marvels at your chest for a second longer before quickly unclasping your bra and shrugging out of it, tossing it down onto the floor with his shirt and your dress, “What about now?” You tease, proudly arching your back as you bite your lip.

He groans again, louder than he has all evening, and instantly ducks his head down. The feel of his soft lips wrapping eagerly around one of your nipples makes you cry out, gasping sharply as he sucks at the sensitive bud before he runs his tongue over it. You cradle the back of his head in your hands, fingers lightly pulling at the short strands of hair, as he switches from one breast to the other, kneading whichever one is free with his hand. 

Needing something, anything, you finally pull him off of your chest after a few moments, laughing when he all but whines, and smiling even more when you take in his disheveled appearance – blond hair sticking up at odd angles from where you’d run your fingers through it, cheeks flushed as his glasses sit crooked on his nose, and his blue eyes staring up at you hungrily. 

You shift back on his thighs just enough to snake a hand between the two of you and he gasps when you cup the bulge pressing against the zipper of his khakis. “You want me to suck your cock?” You ask cheekily, lightly squeezing at his length. 

He surprises you by shaking his head no,gulping slightly with an awkward laugh before answering. “I do, I really fucking do, love,” he breathes, kneading at your breasts as he stares up at you sheepishly, “B-But I really want to last and if you… if you suck it, I –”

“Okay, okay,” you stop him with a kiss, “We’ll table it for next time.” 

“N-Next time?” He questions, fighting to keep his eyes open as you press kisses against his neck once more. You nod against his shoulder and press kisses up to just beneath his ear. 

“I’m not letting you go that easy, honey,” you whisper, chuckling when he shivers. You spend another moment softly kissing and biting at his neck before speaking again, “Have you ever eaten anyone out?” You question, pulling back to look at him.

He shakes his head, his eyes flicking between both of yours as he looks up at you. “No.” He answers simply, his voice hardly a whisper. 

You can’t help but smirk coyly and cock your head to the side, running a finger through the little patch of hair on his chest just to see him shudder. “You wanna try it?”

He nods eagerly and surprises you once again by quickly swinging you around, maneuvering you until your head rests on the pillows of your bed. You squeal at the movement, laughing with him as he settles over you, his narrow hips slotting easily between your thighs as you silently marvel at his unexpected strength, the shock of it going right between your legs. 

“You want me to lick your pussy?” He asks lowly, grinning when he sees your eyes widen ever so slightly. 

“You’re quite something, huh?” You breathe, still gazing up at him in surprise. 

“Observant,” he shrugs, smirking as he sits up, kneeling between your legs, “You aren’t the only one who is, love.” He teases, quickly undoing his belt and trousers and groaning as he pushes them down his thighs, stopping at his knees. 

Your eyes go wide at the size of his length, it’s clearly very impressive and it’s not even out of his plaid boxers yet. That smirk stays plastered on his face as he leans back down to hover over you, hastily removing his glasses and sitting them on your desk before sloppily kissing you for a moment, surprising you yet again by trailing wet kisses down your neck. 

“Michael…” You sigh dreamily, arching your back toward him when he starts kissing over your chest. He groans from deep in his chest, mouth pressed against the fat of your breast. 

“Fucking hell,” he curses, teasing your nipple again with the tip of his tongue, “Say it again, love.” 

His simple command sends shivers down your spine and you mewl, squirming underneath him, “M-Michael!” You moan again, fumbling over your words as he sucks at your breast again before he lifts his head. 

“Good girl,” he purrs with a sly, easy smirk that makes your heart jump, a soft sigh tumbling past your lips. He shifts further down the bed, kissing down over your ribs and stomach, his confidence seemingly growing every time he presses his lips against your skin; the thought makes your head spin.

Finally, he hooks his fingers into the lacy sides of your panties, and his eyes peer up at you as he tugs them down over your hips before flinging them onto the floor. “Oh, my God…,” he sighs, staring greedily at your pussy, a broken groan sounds from his throat when you spread your legs more. 

You bite your lip and giggle, smiling shyly as you tangle your fingers in his hair once more. “Like what you see?” 

He nods his head rapidly, making you chuckle again as he stares up at you, an almost pained expression on his face. “I… uh, w-what now?” 

He’s so endearing, you can’t help the little sigh that leaves you and you sit up a little, leaning back on an elbow as you use your other hand to spread your center open. You bite your bottom lip once more when he whines a little, seeing you all spread out before him, flushed folds already slick and shiny. 

“Lick here, honey,” you whimper as you skim your fingers over your clit, so keyed up from only a few kisses that you gasp a little when you feel yourself clench; Michael looks like he may pass out. 

Ever the dutiful student, he gives you one last look before diving in. Your head falls back with a whiny gasp as his tongue snakes over your clit, just as you’d instructed. A long, shuddery moan leaves him, vibrating against your cunt and you watch as his blue eyes all but roll back in his head. 

“Just like that, Michael,” you praise, tugging at his hair ever so slightly, which only serves to make him moan more. Your chest heaves as you watch him, determined not to let your eyes squeeze shut while he licks and kisses and sucks at your pussy like a man possessed, “Holy shit!” You whimper loudly when he pushes his tongue into you, groaning lowly when he feels your walls clench around it as he presses his nose perfectly against your clit. 

“You taste so good,” he gasps, wrapping his hands around your thighs to keep you exactly where he wants. He peers up at you through blond lashes as he feasts on you, sucking eagerly at your clit and savoring the way you shiver and squirm from his motions. 

Unbelievably, you already feel that warm, familiar tug in your belly beginning to grow, making your whole body feel flush and taut. “Just like that, just like that,” you whine urgently, grabbing onto his hair tighter and guiding his mouth exactly where you need it, your eyes finally rolling back and fluttering shut, “Holy fuck, don’t stop!” 

Michael grunts as you tug at his hair, his own hips rutting greedily against your pretty bedding — cock throbbing so hard there’s no doubt he’s leaked through his boxers. He watches you carefully, studying your movements and reactions as best he can while he rhythmically licks at your clit. 

“Oh, shit!” You cry not even a moment later, your whole body seeming to stutter as your muscles finally relax. You mewl as your high finally washes over you, savoring the way Michael groans into your cunt as he feels it contracting on his tongue. Your eyes stay squeezed shut as shivers roll up and down your spine, shuddered cries leaving your lips. 

Just as his touches begin to border on overstimulation, you have enough wherewithal to push him away, and he releases your center with a lewd little pop. 

“Was that good?” He asks through a breathless laugh, swallowing as he looks up at you, evidence of your arousal still shining on his lips and chin. 

“Good?” You huff, eyebrows raised as you gaze down at him, “You’re sure you’ve never done that before?” You question in disbelief, chest still heaving. 

He smiles shyly, already pink cheeks seeming to flush deeper from your praise as he chuckles. You cup his cheeks when he leans over you again, whimpering as you taste yourself on his tongue. 

“You’re unbelievable.” You sign as he kisses down your neck again, making him chuckle against your skin. 

“Just observant,” he grunts, shuddering when you wrap your legs around his trim waist. You gasp as his length brushes over your still sensitive pussy, impossibly hot and hard even through the thin fabric of his boxers. His fragmented sigh makes you smile and you tug his head up, blushing as you look up at him. 

“You ready, honey?” You breathe, giggling when he nods his head again eagerly, his hips stuttering instinctually against your center. “Here, let me…” You trail off, the two of you separating for a moment as you lean over and pull open the top drawer of your desk, pulling out a pack of condoms and tearing one off before laying back down. 

You watch enraptured as he kneels between your legs again, pulling down his boxers finally. “Holy…” you gasp when his cock finally bobs free, twitching up to rut against his lower stomach; he’s long and thick, curving a little as veins run up the underside, leading to a flushed, leaking head. He smiles shyly again at your attention as he shuffles awkwardly out of his trousers and underwear, kicking them off and onto the floor.

You hand him the condom and watch as he rolls it on, giving him a little reassuring smile as he does. Once it’s securely in place, you pull him back to you, eagerly kissing him once more and wrapping your legs securely around his waist. Both of you moan in unison when his length glides through your folds, the head catching perfectly on your clit. 

He pulls away with a little gasp, hovering over you as he glances down at your hips. “S-So, I just…” He trails off, watching as you reach down with one hand, grunting softly when you wrap your hand around his cock. 

Carefully, you position him at your entrance and angle your hips a little. “Go on, honey,” you encourage with a soft smile, running your other hand over his chest. 

Nodding once, he presses forward and swears he sees God. “F-Fucking hell,” he groans, loudly sighing your name as he carefully guides himself into you, absolutely in awe at the way your hot cunt grips him. His eyes squeeze shut, his hips resting firmly against yours as his chest heaves, breaths coming in short, sharp pants. 

You aren’t fairing much better, head spinning at the way he splits you open, pressing incessantly at each and every sensitive spot within you. You pant against his neck as he stills, pressed deeply within you. 

“D-Do… fuck, do I just…?” Michael stutters, giving half-hearted little thrusts to test the waters. 

“Yes!” You answer instantly, anxiously nodding up at him as your hips wiggle against the bedsheets, making him swear and shudder above you, “Just move, honey, do what feels good.” 

He groans again and gives a little nod before experimentally moving his hips again, pulling out more this time before pushing back in. “Shit,” he breathes above you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he grunts with each roll of his hips. 

You pant underneath him, spurring him on by pressing your feet against his backside, urging him to move faster and faster as the frilly lace from your socks tickles his pale skin. “You’re doing so, so good, oh, my God,” you breathe, your voice high-pitched and whimpery as you tangle your fingers in his hair again, knowing by now that it drives him crazy. 

Above you, Michael’s hips slowly but surely begin to stutter, his thrusts starting to peter out as his breathing picks up. “I’m —!”

“Wait!” You blurt suddenly, smiling wickedly as he comes to a screeching halt, pushing himself up enough to stare down at you with wild eyes, “I have an idea…” You tease with a little giggle. 

“W-What?” 

“You have a phone, yeah?” 

“…Yeah?”

“One that can, like, take video?” 

“Yes?” 

“Grab it,” you laugh, pushing him off of you with a laugh. He rolls his eyes with a smirk but does as you ask, clumsily pulling himself from your heat before stumbling over to where his khakis had landed. He shuffles about for a second before pulling a silver phone from the pocket of his trousers. 

“Now what?” He asks curiously, positioning himself back between your thighs, cock twitching meanly. 

“Film me.” 

“What?!” He gapes at you, brows creased. 

“Film me, honey,” you giggle, biting your lip conspiratorially, “For your little task, you need proof, yeah?” 

“Well, yeah, b-but I can just take your panties or something, I don’t —“

“Or you could bring back something better…” You smirk, shrugging your shoulders playfully, “We don’t have to but… it could be kinda hot?” 

He pauses for a moment, eyes flicking between you, your pussy, and the phone in his hand before he nods once, curtly. “We… we can try it.” 

“Yeah? You wanna?” 

“Yeah,” he quips, catching you by surprise as a mean little smirk spreads over his lips, “Wanna see the look on Catton’s face when he sees you creaming on my cock.” 

Your eyes widen and you huff out a shocked laugh, a zing of electricity lighting behind your eyes. “You’re insane,” you say softly, an endeared smile on your lips. 

He snickers, his whole demeanor seeming to change before your eyes as he transforms from this shy, stuttering boy into an astonishingly cocky man. “You like it, love,” he teases, grabbing his dick and positioning himself at your entrance yet again. 

“Wait!” You giggle again, blushing as he groans. 

“You don’t want to anymore?” 

“No, no, not that,” you assure him, affectionately running your hand down one of his shockingly muscular arms, “You can film me… on one condition.” 

“‘N what would that be?” 

“Take me on a date.” You breathe, suddenly shy. You know he’ll agree to it, but even still, your heart pumps wildly in your chest. 

He stares at you for a second, blinking dumbly as he processes your request. “You want me to take you on a date?” He asks, flushing so deeply that the soft pink hue cascades all the way down to his chest. 

Giggling, you nod your head, giving his forearm a reassuring squeeze. “You need to start giving yourself more credit, honey.” 

He sighs at that, a little astounded huff, before he’s suddenly grabbing at your calves and pushing your legs up toward your shoulders, all but bending you in half, anxious to get his cock back into you. You gasp at the movement, and chuckle at his eagerness, a sound that morphs into a whiny moan when he slides back home. 

“Christ,” he grunts, shoulders heaving as he gets used to the way you feel around him once more, “Y-You feel so good, love, fucking perfect.” 

“You’re so big,” you whine, nodding as you look at him like he hung the stars in the sky, “You’re so good, Michael, you have no idea.” 

He groans above you, hands shaking as he grabs for his phone, flipping it open and quickly opening the camera as his hips rut into you, making the springs of your bed creak softly. 

As soon as Michael gives you a little nod to let you know he’s filming, you truly put on a show — or well, you at least stop trying to quiet yourself down and be conscientious of the people in the rooms next to you. The way he has your legs bent back makes him feel somehow bigger and causes his cock to hit that sensitive spot within you with pinpoint accuracy every time he thrusts in, making you clench around him and moan loudly each time he moves his hips against you. 

You watch as he angles the camera down a bit, no doubt pointing it at the spot the two of you are joined together, letting the camera record his cock sliding in and out of you. When he moves it back up, however, to get your face as evidence, you plaster on the cheekiest grin you can muster. 

“H-Hi boys,” you tease breathlessly, smirking as you lean up on one elbow. You wave with your other hand before blowing a kiss to the camera, which makes Michael cockily laugh.

“Fuck, I gotta…” he mutters after a few more seconds, carelessly dropping his phone down on the bed before roughly grabbing at your thighs with a bruising grip, one that makes you mewl and arch your back toward him. The two of you moan and whimper in unison as he begins thrusting wildly, seemingly too worked up to care about anything but cumming. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You chant over and over, head spinning as he bullies your sweet spot. 

“That’s it, love,” Michael murmurs, his voice gruff and low as he stares down at you, strands of his hair sticking to his forehead; he looks wilder than you’ve ever seen him, the thought only serving to push you closer and closer to the edge. “S-Shit, that’s it. Fucking come for me, cream on my cock; please, please, please,” he murmurs, leaning down to press desperate kisses against your neck and collarbones. 

The new position causes his pubic bone to rub deliciously over your clit, making you seize beneath him with a loud whine. Your toes curl, heels still pressing into the small of his back. “M-Michael, holy fuck!” You practically squeal as your high finally washes over you once more, stars dancing behind your eyelids as you go lax and pliant underneath him. 

The feel of your walls pulsing around his cock has Michael reeling, his hips somehow thrusting even faster as he both desperately wants to cum while also never wanting this feeling to end. “C-Cum, honey, cum,” you pant softly, cupping his cheek with one hand and turning his face toward yours. 

That does him in and the rubber band in his belly viciously snaps, making him shudder above you as his thrusts come to a halt, cock twitching wildly inside you as he empties himself into the condom. You watch him in awe, taking in every detail from the way his nose scrunches up as his eyes squeeze close to the way he whispers your name over and over like a prayer. 

The two of you lay in silence for a moment, his breath warm against your neck as he slumps against you trying to catch his breath. 

Eventually, you can��t help it anymore and let out a breathless giggle, which only intensifies when he props himself up on an elbow to peer down at you with a smirk. 

“Something funny?” 

“Just,” you breathe, trying to calm yourself enough to get words out, “Just… wow,” you finally say, giggles petering out as you look up at him, the soft gleam in his eyes makes your heart clench in your chest. 

“Good wow?” He blushes, looking down between the two of you as he pulls himself from your walls with a little hiss. 

“Very, very good wow,” you confirm, grinning as you watch him pull off the condom before he peers up at you with a sheepish grin. “Tie it off, honey,” you instruct, smirking as he does just that, before nodding to the little wastebasket by your desk. 

He gets up with a groan and quickly tosses the condom in the trash before turning back to you, the bashful look on his face making you blush. 

Unable to resist, you grin at him and spread your arms with a giggle, wordlessly inviting him for a cuddle, which he gladly accepts. The bed creaks slightly as he lays back down, relaxing his head on the pillow just beside yours. Again, the two of you stay silent for a moment, content to merely gaze at one another, before he shyly looks away and sighs. 

“I…,” he starts, blue eyes blinking and flitting around your room as he gathers his thoughts, “Thank you,” he finally says, looking back at you with a little half smile. 

Your brows furrow at this as you grin at him. “What’re you thanking me for?” 

“Well, f-for… this,” he says, gesturing vaguely at the two of you before sitting up just slightly and fishing around in the blankets for a second. “And this,” he sighs, holding his phone up before twisting around to set it on the corner of your desk, turning back to you. “I just… I know you didn’t have to, is all, so…” 

You cock your head to the side as you prop yourself up on an elbow, eyes narrowing as you study him closely. “And people have the nerve to say I’m thick,” you joke, lips spreading into a wide grin as you gaze down at him, “I wanted to do all this, Michael. I’m the one that came onto you, remember?” 

“W-Well, yeah, but —“

“No buts!” You laugh, pressing a finger against his lips as you shake your head, “I have eyes too, you know.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“You haven’t been the only one watching someone for months,” you giggle shyly, pressing your forehead against his, “I meant what I said about that date, too.” 

His arms wind around your waist, holding you tight as he processes your words with a dumbstruck smile, blushing under your gaze. “Whatever you say, love,” he concedes finally, pressing his lips against yours sweetly. 

He yawns tiredly when he pulls away from you after a moment, which only makes you yawn as well, and you glance over at the little clock on your dresser. “Christ,” you gasp, turning back to him, “I didn’t realize it’s already almost four… you can crash here, if you want?” 

He considers it for a moment, knowing he has to be back in that stupid little basement by noon and making a mental map of where exactly your dormitory is in relation to the Merton College Chapel. “I… I can stay, yeah,” he finally nods after a moment. 

“You’re sure?” 

“Love, I’m not sure my legs work well enough yet to walk out of here anyway.” 

Michael

Groaning, Michael slowly blinks his eyes open, rubbing them softly as he sits up in bed with a yawn. Blindly reaching over for his glasses, he’s confused when he doesn’t feel them in their usual spot and finally opens his eyes properly. 

He stares, confused for a moment as to how exactly he somehow got transported into what appears to be Barbie’s damn dream house, before the events of last night come flooding back to him. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes when he turns his head and sees your still-sleeping form beneath your flowery sheets, your hair tousled wildly on the pillow as your shoulders rise and fall evenly still with each breath. Looking around, he finally spots his glasses and puts them on before reaching for his phone, and cursing again when he sees the time. 

11:47 AM. 

He practically falls out of your bed as he tries to extricate himself from the sheets, and he hears you wake with a start behind him as he grabs wildly at his clothes on the floor. 

“Michael?” You ask questioningly, your voice still hoarse from sleep as you, frankly fucking adorably, rub at your eyes before fixing him with a curious look. 

“Gotta, shit, gotta run,” he explains quickly, cursing as he nearly loses his balance trying to tug his trousers on, “Need to be at Merton Chapel in, like, Christ, ten minutes!” 

“Ohh,” you giggle softly, watching with amusement as he finishes getting dressed, hair and clothes so disheveled that he’s sure he looks like the very definition of the walk of shame. 

Just as he’s tugging his shoes on and making a mad dash for the door, you stop him. “Here,” you smirk, holding out the same lacy pair of pink panties you wore last night, “For proof,” you explain, nodding to the phone in his hand, “Along with that. Should be more than enough,” you giggle proudly. 

He smiled sheepishly as he pockets your underwear. “T-Thanks,” he nods, turning to leave before you stop him once more. 

He can’t help but blush when you lean in and press and quick kiss to his lips, your cherry chapstick rubbing off on him some. Pulling away, you playfully smack his chest with a little grin. “Go get ‘em, honey.” 

Nodding, he smiles again before finally pulling your door open and bounding down the hallway. “I’ll text you, love!” He calls, peering back just before he rounds a corner, “About that date!” 

It’s 11:58 on the dot when he flings the basement door open, only to be pulled over to the same stupid dank basement wall, his back hitting it once more with a dull thud. 

Glancing around, he sees the ski-masked boys again, all fifteen of them, standing in a row with the head boy slightly out of line. To his left stands one of the other initiates, clutching a black tube of some sort. 

The basement stays silent for a moment before one of the masked boy’s watch alarms goes off just as the bells in the tower begin to chime. 

Once, twice, all the way up to twelve. Noon.

Right on cue, the head boy steps forward even more and looks between Michael and the other initiate. “Your friend couldn’t be bothered to show his face, then?” He asks, dark eyes peering at the boy next to Michael. 

He scoffs and shakes his head, glaring at the head boy. “He’s still at the bank!” He snaps, “All the way in bloody Switzerland,” he kicks at the dirty stone floor as he explains, “Dickhead,” he finally mutters lowly under his breath. 

“Shame,” the head boy quips, clasping his hands in front of his waist, “Some men are simply not cut out for Bullingdon.” 

The boys in the row behind him nod knowingly, each making some little noise of affirmation until the head boy quickly stops them, holding a fist up by his head, bringing it back down to his side when they shut up. 

“So, initiates, what’ve you got?” 

The boy next to Michael steps forward first and hands the black tube to the head boy with a sigh. “There,” he says, gesturing to it, “There’s your bloody map. My mum could get sacked for that.” 

The head boy pops open one end of the tube, a document sleeve Michael now realizes, and gingerly extracts a rolled up piece of parchment from it, unrolling it just enough to confirm it's what they asked for. 

“Well done, initiate,” he nods, seemingly impressed as he flashes a smile at the boy, white teeth gleaming creepily through the slit in his ski mask. Carefully, he rolls the document up again before sliding it back in the tube, “Your commitment to Bullingdon will take you far. Welcome to the fray.” 

The boy stands still for a moment, eyeing the document tube with an almost regretful expression before curtly nodding and taking his place back against the wall. 

“And then there was one,” the head boy murmurs, dark faze fixed on Michael, “I seem to remember we gave you quite the… interesting task indeed, initiate. How did you manage?” 

Smiling damn near arrogantly, Michael all but skips up the head boy and proudly pulls your panties from his back pocket, letting them dangle from his index finger. “See for yourself.” 

The head boy grabs them by the edge and studies them for a moment, turning back to the row of boys behind him with a questioning glance. The boy Michael knows already to be that cunt, Oliver Quick, glances between him, the panties, and Michael, before cutting a sideways glance to a tall boy standing next to him. 

“These could be anyone’s,” the head boy says, turning back to Michael as he shakes his head, “You could’ve nicked them from your sister or something, we’ll need more than this, initiate.”

“Don’t even have a sister,” Michael quips, shrugging his shoulders with a little frown. 

“Okay, like, your cousin or something then –”

“Don’t have a female cousin,” he says with a shake of his head, “All boys.”

“The point still stands!” The head boy finally snaps, making Michael bite the inside of his cheek to hide a little laugh, though the corner of his lips still quirks up in a smirk, “You haven’t got any proof, do you? Is that why you’re stalling?”

Huffing a little laugh, Michael finally lets himself smirk meanly and steps closer to the head boy as he pulls his phone from his pocket, flips it open, and navigates to his video gallery. “Is this enough proof?” He teases, pressing play on the most recent video. 

The picture is small and grainy but there’s no doubt as to what’s happening as the sound of your pretty whimpers and moans echoes around the brick basement, along with the wet smack of Michael’s cock driving into you again and again. 

The head boy stares at the screen still as curiosity gets to a few of the boys in the row behind him and they all come crowd around Michael’s phone, eyes widening behind their ski masks and mouths falling open. 

The tallest one, the one Oliver keeps glancing at, lets out a long sigh as he peers down at the small screen and brings a hand up to his head as if he were going to run it through his hair before remembering the mask he has on. With him this close, Michael finally notices the little silver barbell stuck through his eyebrow and shivers as his lips curl up into a sadistic Cheshire cat smile, a tidal wave of savage pride crashing through his system. 

Finally, fucking finally, I get something he wants, he thinks as your breathy moans continue to pour from the speaker of his phone, tinny and muffled in some spots where he’d accidentally covered the microphone, but beautiful, beautiful and because of him.

After a moment, the video ends, the tiny phone screen reverting back to it’s little thumbnail as the head boy peers up at Michael, the rest of the club members taking their places back in line, though he can’t help but notice that Felix’s broad shoulders are slumped now and Oliver stands ever closer to him, like some kind of fucked up bodyguard. 

“I’ll be damned, initiate,” the head boy sighs with a shake of his head, “I really didn’t think you had it in you.”

He watches as Michael merely nods and pockets his phone again, holding it tightly in his fist even still. After a second, he smiles widely and claps a hand on his shoulder, shaking him slightly.

“Welcome to Bullingdon.”

Some time later, Michael finally exits the basement, a few of the club members, sans ski masks now, nodding goodbye to him as they disperse across campus, meeting adjourned. 

He wasn’t really sure what he’d been expecting from the initial meeting but it was mostly them prattling on about where exactly they had all their grubby little fingers, poked in seemingly every facet of society from Parliament to local newspapers. 

Braggy cunts, Michael thinks as he ambles outside, glancing up at the sky as he steps into the Mob Quad, surrounded by stony old buildings. 

Smiling to himself, he pulls out his phone and quickly finds your number in his contacts list, blushing when he sees you’ve taken the liberty of adding some girly heart emoticon next to it. He hardly has time to press it against his ear before you answer.

“Well?” You demand with that now familiar giggle, some unfamiliar pop song playing in the background.

“I’m in,” he confirms, nodding to himself as he slowly walks in the direction of his dormitory, “Thanks to you.” He smiles like an idiot when you laugh.

“Don’t sell yourself short, honey,” you tease, he can picture your bright, glossy smile in his head, “You earned that spot.”

Michael merely shakes his head with a happy little sigh. “So,” he starts, clearing his throat and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “About that date… I was thinking the King’s Arms? Tonight at six, if that works?”

“Oooh, tonight at six,” you repeat teasingly, an image flashing in his mind of you twirling your hair around a perfectly manicured finger, “Someone’s quite eager, hm?”

“Can you blame me?”

“Hmm, I suppose not,” you giggle, pausing for a second, “It’s a date then.”

“Fantastic,” Michael sighs, trying with every fiber of his being to sound casual and cool about the whole thing, even as his heart threatens to beat out of his chest. 

“See you tonight, Mr. Bullingdon,” you tease, making a little kissy sound into the phone before hanging up. 

Michael pauses for a moment, standing to the side on the pavement as he nods to himself. If it weren’t so fucking cheesy, he’d raise his fist in the air, victorious, à la Judd Nelson at the end of The Breakfast Club. 

Instead, he flips his phone back open and navigates back to your video. Sighing, he stares at the little thumbnail for a second before deleting it, pocketing his phone once more, and continuing back to his dormitory. 

He has the real thing now.

taggled lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @wickedfrsgrl @echos-muses @imawhorecrux @avidreader73 @marvelescape @rae-11 @ms-morningstarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @grsveeth0m @twglitching @hb8301 @delulumhaggy @burntliquorlips @fan-goddess @cl-0-vr @kittendoll05 @beautbuck @eponaartemisa @trshngyn @brettlovessuckingcocks @alerisc @moonriseoverkyoto @wolfdressedinlace @do-double-g @kennafild

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[ssahotchnerr]

hellooo, i hope you’re doing well! would you want to write a fic where at some point aaron steals readers gum out of her mouth? this is such a random thought and i’m so sorry if this sounds weird (now that i’ve written it down and not only thought about it, it seems very weird, sorry!!!!!!), but i kind of feel like this is something he’d do when making out lol and it obviously catches her off guard the first time he does it 😁

according to plan

omg i'm putting a jealous!aaron take on this 🤭 cw; suggestiveness, established relationship, bau!reader, detective being a creep, heavy on the kissing, possessive/jealous!aaron 🦋

aaron's just about had it.

it started out as lingering stares, beginning at your face before sweeping all along your form. next, the insistent eagerness to partner up with you. and now the detective, who's name wasn't worth remembering, was at your backside, itching to get as close to you as he possibly could. any closer, he would have you pressed against the bulletin board in front of the two of you.

you were politely trying to explain the physical, common characteristics between the victims, how unsubs sometimes had a specific type and that's why they chose to acquire them. naturally he had asked you the most stupid, simplest question; just another excuse to speak to you.

all day, aaron had been silently seething, a mere bystander. but as he joined and saw the sight before him, his fists clenched so tightly his fingernails were digging into the palms of his hands. enough was enough.

"do you understand now?" you naively asked, a pleased expression forming on your face when the detective nodded in confirmation. unlike aaron, you had been unaware of his ongoing actions.

"is there any way i can repay you?" he questioned smoothly, his eyes yet again dropping. this time, the attentiveness is drawn to your lips.

"no," you shake your head, your focus already directed on readjusting one of the displayed photos, the gum in your mouth producing a pop. "i'm just glad i could be of some assistance."

it's a bad habit of yours, snapping your gum too loudly. it's hard to not notice it. but fortunately, the brought focus is about to work completely in aaron's favor.

aaron calls your name, tipping his head to the side as a signal for you to come. you abide, leaving the detective right where he is and as a result, he subtly glares at aaron for interrupting his time with you and his advances. aaron steps aside to let you pass, and as soon as you do, he shoots daggers right back.

truthfully, he's extremely lucky that's all aaron did.

you follow him to one of the empty interrogation rooms, a small trek away from everyone else. once inside, aaron swiftly shuts the door behind you.

"what's-"

aaron's lips are on yours before you can finish your sentence, causing you to gasp slightly in surprise, throwing your arms around his neck and instantly kissing him back.

it's all too easy to submit to aaron, allowing him to guide you and push you back against the door. he crowds you against it, his breath hot and heavy in your mouth, his hands exploring every curve of your body and more. every inch of you, is consumed by him.

the kiss is heated, desperate, and in the back of your mind, you distantly wonder why the suddenness - what has gotten into him? but with the pure vigor he's kissing you with, your brain had gone fuzzy; you were too consumed by the kiss to dwell on the potential reason why, or did you care.

aaron's large hands slide down your back, landing on and promptly squeezing your ass - hard. you gasp again, and aaron uses the sudden part of your lips to push his tongue into your mouth, sliding against your own. he can taste it - the flavor of your gum - and it only encourages him further, deepening the kiss.

you can't help let out a small moan, which aaron immediately swallows up from you, mindful of your volume within the current setting. your fingers find the nape of his neck, weaving and gripping onto his hair tight.

the kiss itself is wet and sloppy - all according to plan. and once the mint flavor fully invades his mouth, aaron forces himself to pull away.

and before it becomes impossible not to.

your eyes are wide as you look up at him. your cheeks are flushed, lips swollen from the intensity of the kiss. you let out a breathless laugh, chest heaving up and down. "wow. i..."

you trail off, your tone leading into more or less a question. aaron leans in once more, pressing a gentle, chaste kiss to your lips this time. "just missed you."

you take instant note of the slight, new shift of his jaw, which prompts you to realize something from your mouth is missing.

you gape at him, jaw dropping a bit in astonishment. "wait, did you take my gum?"

aaron's way of a response is opening the door, a small nudge of his head gesturing for you to exit. "after you."

you give him a confused look, yet your eyes are still dark and lined with arousal, before heading back to the others. a deep exhale leaves you as you walk away, an attempt to cool down before facing anyone else.

this time, when the detective's stare returns to you both, aaron's the one loudly snapping the gum.

[kyeomofhearts]

Back For More | J.WW

+ summary: while adjusting to your new life in college, you couldn't help but attract the attention of wonwoo, someone you happened to share a history with.

+ pairing: badboy!wonwoo x fem!reader

+ word count: 4.5k

+ content: badboy!wonwoo, college au, mature language, jealousy, angst, suggestive, possessive wonwoo (yum), teasing, a lot of dialogue for sure, fluff?, please lmk if i missed anything tyyyy!

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

[ᝰ.ᐟ] glad you guys enjoyed part one!!! 🥹 i really appreciate the lovely comments you all left <333 i know this took forever for me to post but i swear i didn't mean to. currently writing part three as we speak so it will definitely come out within these following months or so... anyways, this wasn't proofread so please excuse any mistakes i may have made! as always, don't be scared to comment because i quite literally thrive on your guys' comments and reblogs! :)

Two weeks. Two full weeks of your torture.

Wonwoo was pretty shocked, to say the least. He wasn’t aware of the lengths you would take to ignore him. Sure, it was his fault for going off on you but he was sorry. He knew what he had said to you that day upset you, but he didn't know it was going to end up like this. And now he was at a loss, he wasn’t sure on how to navigate this 'predicament' between the two of you.

Wonwoo obviously knew that he had to apologize to you but he also knew that you needed space. Which is exactly what he did for those first few days after the ‘fight’ had occurred. He gave you space for a day or two but then, those two days turned into five... and before he knew it, two weeks had passed.

Of course, it’s not like Wonwoo didn’t try to talk to you but it was kind of difficult when you would run away at the mere sight of him. It also didn't help that any of his attempts for forgiveness were typically greeted with your indifference, it was as if you had walled yourself off completely.

To make matters worse, anytime that Wonwoo was able to see you, Hyunwoo was right by your side. It was troubling, to say the least. He couldn't quite put his finger on why the sight of you with Hyunwoo stirred such unease within him but it did and he hated it.

Out of everyone on this campus, you were giving Hyunwoo your time and attention? It just didn't make sense to Wonwoo. You barely knew the guy!

Not that he was jealous or anything but… there was something about Hyunwoo that he didn't trust. His easy 'charm' and 'magnetic' personality seemed almost too good to be true, and Wonwoo couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to him than met the eye. He was definitely hiding something.

And so, Wonwoo found himself in limbo, caught between the regret of his past actions and the uncertainty of what would happen between him and you. He hoped for the chance to set things right, to close the gap that had formed between the two of you, but he couldn't help but wonder if it was already too late.

Until then, all he could do was wait for another opportunity.

[...]

To say that you were bored was an understatement. Ignoring Wonwoo for two weeks was beginning to take its toll on you. Life had suddenly become only about your job and classes which was... exhausting.

Granted, you did make it your life mission to ignore him any chance you were given but there was no point in dwelling on that. It was quite easy going no-contact with him considering that you didn't share any socials with him. A small part of you did occasionally miss when you would get randomly bothered by Wonwoo, it was a nice distraction from whatever you were thinking about at that moment.

Other than that...

Life was pretty uneventful if you were being honest with yourself. Your days were usually filled with school assignments and work so there wasn't anything that could help you keep your mind away from Wonwoo. And it didn't help that your friends had gone radio silent on you either.

Some might say that you were taking your pettiness too far but you couldn't help yourself! Sure, you and Wonwoo were not at the level where you could practically share everything with each other but how else were you supposed to react to his obvious injuries? Like... did he want you to just ignore his bruised face and act like everything was fine and dandy? You despised how much this whole situation still bothered you even after a few weeks had passed since it occurred.

Maybe it wouldn't hurt to hear Wonwoo out-

"Hellooo? Yn!"

Your head snapped towards the direction where you heard your name come from. Of course, it was Hyunwoo.

"I've been calling your name like crazy! Are you deaf or something?" His voice was laced with annoyance but you could tell that he was trying to play it cool.

You don't know if it was because you were always sleep-deprived but recently, Hyunwoo had been getting on your nerves. Hyunwoo was just too clingy for your liking, always feeling the need to be around you any chance he could. It was bothersome if anything.

“Sorry I was distracted, what did you need?” You tried to sound nice but couldn't help the irritation from slipping into your tone.

Hyunwoo scoffed. "Well, I just wanted to invite you to this party on Friday." He stepped closer to you, there was a mischievous glint in his eyes.

He continued, "I know parties aren't really your thing but... please think about it at least?"

You hesitated, your mind automatically going through your schedule. You were definitely open on Friday, but the thought of going to a party wasn't exactly appealing to you. Especially not with the current state of your social life.

You mulled over his proposition for a few seconds.

"Uh, thanks for the invite, but I think I'll pass," you replied, trying to sound casual.

Hyunwoo raised an eyebrow, his playful demeanor turning into one of disbelief. "Pass? Come on, yn, when was the last time you actually went out and had some fun?"

Ugh. His words hit a little too close to home. You knew he was right, but the idea of going out without knowing anyone felt daunting. You knew that there was surely something better you could do on a Friday night but a small part of you was curious about the party. Maybe you should at least check it out, that wouldn't hurt, right?

You looked at Hyunwoo and exhaled.

"Okay fine, I'll go with you," you playfully nudged his arm before continuing, "under the condition that I can leave whenever I want."

Hyunwoo couldn't help but roll his eyes and scoff at your 'terms and conditions', but he accepted it either way.

"Sure, oh and trust me, you won't want to leave, I'll make sure of that," Hyunwoo said as he looked at the time on his phone noting that he had a few minutes left. He patted your back before bidding you goodbye to attend his next class.

You weren't sure if it was you but there was something off about his reply. But before you could dwell on it further, your phone suddenly buzzed with a notification, forcing you back to reality.

[www.onwoo requested to follow you.]

Oh.

Okay, now you have a lot of questions. How did he even find you? Was it through one of your friends? Why now? God you knew this was going to eat you up for the next few hours or maybe even days.

Nevertheless, you accepted his friend request and even went as far as to add him as a friend. That should be okay, right?

You slipped your phone back into your pocket as you got closer to your class. Surely your lecture would at least help you take him off your mind.

Wrong.

When you entered the classroom you noticed that the seating arrangement had been changed. There were a few students still standing at the front who looked just as confused as you. After a few more students came to the class the professor eventually got up to address the situation.

"For those that are coming in, I have changed your assigned seats for the rest of the semester! If you look at the board you will also see that I have grouped you into pairs, and to make it convenient I have sat you with your partner so you do not have to struggle with finding them. If you have any questions please do not hesitate to ask me!"

Okay, this was different but not necessarily bad. You looked towards the board to see who you had been paired with and you felt your stomach drop down to the pits of Hell.

[yn | wonwoo]

If you were going to be honest you completely forgot Wonwoo was even in this class in the first place.

If there was a God out there, then they for sure failed you today. This was very unfortunate for you, but there wasn't anything that could be done about it. So you begrudgingly made your way to your assigned seat, right next to Wonwoo.

You took a quick glance over his figure noting his dark attire. There wasn't anything special about it but just seeing him in a simple black shirt and sweats was doing a lot of things to you. Why was the room hot all of a sudden?

After getting yourself situated in your seat, you felt his eyes surveying your figure. Part of you wanted to turn to see if he was actually looking at you but that would just be another win for him so you decided to keep your gaze on the board. Just focus on the lecture.

"yn." Wonwoo said in a somewhat muted tone, tapping a finger on your arm.

Well, that didn't last long.

You hated how much of an effect his voice still had on you, that deep tone always giving you goosebumps. Surprisingly, you still managed to keep your eyes on the lecture, you wanted to see how far he would go to get your attention.

Though your silence didn't amuse Wonwoo, in fact, it annoyed him. He hated not being able to annoy you, maybe even going as far as to say that he missed talking to you. Of course, he wouldn't have been in this situation had he not snapped at you that day but he was really trying to earn your forgiveness. He was willing to do anything at this point. So he leaned towards you, his cologne invading your senses. God, why did he have to smell so good?

"Can you stop ignoring me? I gave you enough space already," he said in a hushed, irritated tone.

You looked at him, trying your best to not laugh at how desperate he was beginning to sound. His usually calm and collected persona was beginning to crumble down into a hopeless mess. Feeling playful, you decided to torture him just a little bit.

"I don't think I want to, it's been kind of fun not having you around," You whispered back, turning your gaze at the board so you wouldn't have to see his reaction. Just for the fun of it, you decided to egg him on a little further, "Maybe try again later."

As you focused on the board, you could practically feel the tension radiating from Wonwoo beside you. His irritation was palpable, his patience wearing thin as he struggled to contain his frustration.

But despite your playful defiance, a small part of you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. Maybe you were being too harsh on him, too stubborn to admit that you missed whatever you had going on with him. Deep down, you knew that ignoring Wonwoo wasn't going to solve anything, that it was only prolonging the inevitable confrontation you both needed to have.

As the lecture droned on in the background, the weight of Wonwoo's presence beside you grew heavier with each passing minute. You could sense him fidgeting in his seat, his frustration simmering beneath the surface as he grappled with your stubborn silence.

Maybe it was time that you stopped pushing him away.

Finally unable to bear the tension any longer, you cleared your throat.

"Okay fine, I'll stop ignoring you but don't think that I have forgiven you yet." Your eyes lingered on his face, his cuts and bruises had noticeably healed but they were still evident.

Wonwoo's tense figure visibly relaxed at your words. Even though it was only a small step, Wonwoo felt as if he had already won the lottery.

After another hour had passed, the lecture had finally come to an end. You didn't have any plans after this so you were excited to just spend the day doing whatever. But just as you were about to slip out of your seat, Wonwoo's voice stopped you in your tracks.

"Wait for me," he said, his voice softer than before.

Seeing Wonwoo like this was quite... weird. His demeanor towards you was a complete contrast to his usual confident self. It was kind of unnerving.

After that, Wonwoo began to gather his belongings, even going as far as gently taking your bag from your hand. He slid the bag onto his shoulder, not caring about the fact that he looked ridiculous wearing his regular backpack with your tote.

"I can carry my bag," you said as you tried reaching for it.

Wonwoo quickly moved away before you could even land a finger on your tote. "Let me carry it for you, please." His tone was sincere this time, almost pleading if anything.

With a reluctant sigh, you began to make your way out of the classroom, allowing Wonwoo to fall into step beside you as you made your way out of the lecture hall. The hallway was relatively quiet, the sounds of footsteps echoing against the tiled floor as you passed by other students.

As you walked side by side with Wonwoo, you couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that gnawed at the edges of your thoughts.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you like a physical barrier. As you rounded the corner, you stole a glance at Wonwoo, taking in the uncertainty etched into his features. It was strange to see him like this, vulnerable and unsure, but there was also something oddly endearing about it.

"What's going on? You're acting really weird right now," you finally blurted out, unable to contain your curiosity any longer.

Wonwoo's steps faltered slightly at your question, his gaze flickering away before returning to meet yours. "Can't I do something nice for my friend?" he replied, his voice tinged with a tiny hint of defensiveness.

You blinked, taken aback by Wonwoo's response. "Friend?" you echoed, the word feeling foreign on your tongue. It had been weeks since you and Wonwoo had exchanged more than a few words with each other, but even before that, you weren't necessarily sure you could call him a friend. Sure you've known him for the majority of your life but that was really it, growing up your friend groups rarely interacted so it's not like you actually knew anything about him. He just always happened to be there.

Did he seriously consider you as a friend?

Wonwoo's steps came to an abrupt stop, he shifted uncomfortably beside you, his gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to meet yours. "Well, yeah. I mean, aren't we?" he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty.

The question hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken implications and unresolved tension. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, searching for the right words to express the swirling thoughts and emotions that churned within you.

"I don't know, Wonwoo," you finally admitted, your voice quiet but resolute. "I get that we've known each other for a long time but... I wouldn't exactly call us friends."

His face flashed a hint of hurt before he looked away from you. The silence following between the two of you was almost suffocating.

"That's fair I guess." His voice returned to that stoic tone that you had grown accustomed to.

Wonwoo's response hung in the air for a second, thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. You could feel the weight of his disappointment pressing down on you, mingling with your own sense of unease.

"I didn't mean it like that," you interjected hastily, the words tumbling out in a rush. "It's just... weird you know? We've been around each other for so long but I don't know anything about you and you don't know anything about me."

His gaze remained fixed on the ground, his expression unreadable. "I know," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the footsteps of the people passing by. "But we can always change that." Wonwoo was now completely looking at you, his gaze filled with something you couldn't quite pinpoint.

He continued, "Look, I'm sorry I spoke to you that way. I was really irritated by what had happened but I figured that being with you would put me in a better mood," he paused for a second, "I know that it was unfair of me to do that to you and I'll make sure that it won't happen again." Wonwoo's eyes were soft and sincere as he spoke to you.

It was shocking in a way, seeing how vulnerable he was being with you. For someone who usually displayed himself on the 'cooler' side, he really did know how to be genuine with you.

It was also overwhelming. Everything about this felt too intimate for you. From the way Wonwoo was looking at you to the way he voiced out his apology; it was just too much for you.

You had to do something.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to accept his apology, it was about time anyway.

"Okay, fine. I get it, we all have our off days," turning to face his side, you made a playful jab into his ribs, "but if you ever do anything like that again I will kill you." You tried your best to maintain a somewhat serious face but couldn't help but let out a giggle as soon as you saw Wonwoo squirm from your touch.

And just like that, the tension that had once felt suffocating was now gone, as if it had never been there in the first place; or at least so you thought.

What you didn't know was that Wonwoo was completely aware of your little diversion tactic. He noticed the subtle shift in your eyes while he was apologizing to you, he just chose not to say anything. But he'll play along at least for now.

“So…are we officially back to being besties?” Wonwoo decided to say teasingly, his eyes looking at you expectantly.

You stare at him momentarily with an unimpressed look before breaking into a smile. Although you've known Wonwoo for a while, you would have never thought he could joke around like this, especially with you.

And well... it wouldn't hurt if you played with him a little more.

“I’ll say yes if you buy me a smoothie from the stand over there.” You pointed toward the barely visible smoothie stand that was parked a bit farther from the window where you and Wonwoo stood.

It was the same smoothie spot from a few weeks ago only this time they were in a small cart. Although they did have their own shop near the area, the owners would occasionally bring a little cart around the campus to help bring more people in.

Wonwoo let out a low chuckle before asking you, "Do you want the same thing from last time?”

Last time? There was absolutely no way that he was talking about your order from two weeks ago.

You quirked your eyebrow up at him, "…And just how sure are you that you remember my order?"

Okay, to be fair, it's not like you had a complicated order, but it would be surprising if Wonwoo was able to remember it considering that he only heard you order that smoothie once.

Wonwoo looked over to you once again, a small smirk taking over his features. "I'll have you know that it also happens to be my favorite so don't get too excited now," he said in a provocative tone.

Ugh, he was so annoying.

Before you could give his response any more thought Wonwoo had wordlessly started walking toward the smoothie stand, effectively leaving you behind. But rather than following him all the way to the stand you decided to find seating, preferably under the shade. It's been getting hot, you noticed it's especially true when Wonwoo is around.

After finding a spot under the shade you begin to mindlessly scroll on your phone. It wasn't too long after you sat down that a notification got a hold of your attention.

[www.onwoo wants to send you a message.]

Oh god. What did he possibly want now?

[www.onwoo] why didn't you come with me? :(

Before accepting his message request you glanced over to the smoothie stand, the line was pretty long now but Wonwoo had made it just in time to get his order in before the rush. As you were looking at him, he turned his gaze toward you making you immediately look back down on your phone.

[you] it's only a one-man job. also you look ridiculous with my bag.

Wonwoo softly scoffed at your message and looked in your direction. You weren't looking at him anymore but he was still able to see a small smile on your face.

[www.onwoo] i'll have you know that i already had 3 girls compliment me on the bag 😼

You rolled your eyes before shooting back a reply.

[you] i have immaculate taste that's why.

A few chat bubbles popped in and out before they eventually disappeared altogether. It wasn't long after that you heard footsteps quickly making their way toward you.

Just as you lifted your head upwards you heard Wonwoo's confident voice announce his arrival.

“One large smoothie for my little birdy.” He smiled as he spoke, knowing that you absolutely despised that nickname.

You squinted at him in disapproval, “And here I thought that nickname was officially gone for good.”

Wonwoo chuckled at that. He then proceeded to take a sip of your smoothie before officially handing it off to you.

You stayed frozen for a second before grabbing the smoothie and wiping the straw with your shirt.

Absolutely no indirect kisses will be occurring today.

Getting up from your spot, you begin to mindlessly walk toward the closest pathway near you, the weather is pretty nice today. After a few steps, you turned around to see a rather puzzled Wonwoo looking back at you but he still followed nonetheless.

“You’re a little too chirpy today… what happened to the oh-so-serious biker? Hmm?” You playfully poked at him as you said it, enjoying the sweet flavor of the smoothie he had gotten for you.

Wonwoo scoffed softly, holding back his laugh, “He’s still here, he just happens to be in a good mood now that his little birdy is talking to him again.”

But before you can even think of a snarky response Wonwoo continued.

“But if that’s what you’re into then I can always play the part for you,” he said with a smirk, his words smothered in arrogance.

You scoffed, amused by the implication he made. “Ew it’s definitely not like that.”

“Oh, but it can be.” Wonwoo moved closer to you, effectively closing the space between you both. His cologne invaded your senses once again; this time, it was proving much more difficult for you to escape from his grasp. His gaze was unwavering as he looked at your face or to be more exact, your lips.

After what felt like an eternity, Wonwoo finally pulled himself away from you. He smirked at the very flustered state that he had just left you in. It was clear that there was a mutual attraction between the two of you, an attraction you were trying to reject.

It was a challenge that Wonwoo was more than ready to handle.

You cleared your throat, "As fun as it was hanging out after class... I think that it's about time for me to head back home," you said as you recomposed yourself.

Technically speaking, there wasn't anything waiting for you back at your place but you felt that if you stayed a second longer things would definitely escalate between the two of you.

And again, your little stunt didn't go unnoticed by Wonwoo but he also wasn't surprised, if anything, he expected you to pull away like this. That was one of the first things he had noticed when he initially started talking to you, always leaving before things could really develop. It was cute in a way, but he was eventually going to get you out of your shell, it was only a matter of when.

Wonwoo faintly smiled to himself, “Okay but before I let you go, we should come up with a day to start our project together.”

Fuck. You forgot about that.

He continued, “How about this Friday? I have nothing going on that day.” Wonwoo's eyes landed on your figure as you went on your phone to check your work schedule for the upcoming week.

“Ugh, I have to go out with Hyunwoo that day,” you said just as your eyes landed on Sunday, it was completely open.

“…but how about this Sunday? I don’t work that day.” You looked up toward Wonwoo's eyes, hopeful that it could work out.

A million thoughts raced through Wonwoo's head. You're going out with Hyunwoo? Like as in a date or...? No, he has to stay composed.

“That works for me,” he mumbled, his gaze went toward the ground, kicking a few pebbles before looking at you once again, “but what’s going on with you and Hyunwoo?”

You couldn't help but laugh at Wonwoo's question which earned you a scowl from him. God, you were going to have so much fun with this.

“Why do you ask?” This was the perfect opportunity to get back at Wonwoo for teasing you earlier so like the tease that you are, you decided to play dumb with him. “Are you perhaps… jealous?” You said with a loud gasp as a way to rile him up, your hands flying to your mouth for dramatic effect.

You continued, "Don't worry Hyunwoo is just a boy who also happens to be my friend." Wonwoo's face physically hardened at the idea of Hyunwoo being your boyfriend. He knew that you saw him on a regular basis but he had yet to see any real signs that you were actually dating him.

Patting his back in a comforting manner you then explained, "Relax, don't get your panties in a twist. If you have to know, Hyunwoo is just a friend." While it was fun teasing him you most certainly did not want him to get the wrong idea about you and Hyunwoo.

"But if I'm being honest it was kind of fun bullying you, I should do that more often." It couldn't be helped! You just had to add that last part.

Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “Oh wow, who knew you were a sadist.” His tone was playful, an evil grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he played along with your banter.

Your jaw dropped at his comment, huffing out a loud, “Wonwoo!”

He raised his hands up in a surrender, “I'm kidding! I'm kidding… or maybe not.” Which then earned him a slap on his bicep.

“You truly are shameless,” you muttered out loud for him to hear.

By this point, Wonwoo had taken the lead as the two of you walked away from the courtyard. It was only until you were at the school's parking lot that you realized that he had purposely taken you here.

There was a beat of silence before Wonwoo let out a soft sigh. "Would you look at that... my bike happens to be over there..." He nudged you in the direction of where he had parked his bike a few hours prior.

Wonwoo let out another pathetic sigh, "It would be rude of me to just let you walk back home you know?" This time he grabbed a hold of your hand as he led you directly in front of his bike.

Your eyes almost bulged out of your head at the implication that he just made. There's absolutely no way that you are getting on his bike.

"Uh... I'm not so sure this is a good idea Won-"

Wonwoo shushes you and hands you a spare helmet, a shit-eating grin plastered over his stupidly handsome face.

"Just trust me," he says as he slides your tote inside his backpack, "that should hold everything in place." Wonwoo then handed the backpack to you, waiting for you to put it on, his eyes landing on your terrified figure.

This was going to be fun.

Part Three: Coming Soon…

[delulujuls]

loverboy | ln4

hi, i finally wrote second part for tinder buddies! im not sure if i like it though, i've got an idea but i dont know how it went.

anyway please enjoy and lets cross our fingers for japan win for this loverboy!

i will let myself tag everyone who wanted to be tagged in part 2: @mickslover @formula-1-04 @petitefaeries @bayleewatts67 @xjval @kapsylia @teamnovalak @slutforln4 @shimmermotorsport @myownwritings @maydiamondsinthenightsky @mikadojohnny

summary: when it turned out that Lando is more of a loverboy than a fuckboy and there is no point in trusting appearances because they tend to be misleading

warnings: none

pairing: fem!journalist!reader x lando norris

Y/N looked as if she had seen a ghost. She clenched her phone in her hand and glanced at the spot where Lando had been just a moment ago. Yes, that Lando, with whom she had a brief interview a few seconds ago, Lando Norris, who drives for McLaren, her Tinder buddy with whom she's been exchanging explicit messages for over a month now, and who knows more about her body seen through the camera than any guy she's had the chance to flirt with in person.

The girl only snapped out of it when the camera operator she had been filming with nudged her shoulder.

"The team bosses' interview is about to start, I saved us seats."

She quickly nodded and tucked the microphone into her bag, throwing it over her shoulder. She glanced at the McLaren garage one last time before heading to the conference. After all, she was here because she had duties.

As she took her place among the crowd of other journalists, instead of focusing on coming up with questions, she picked up her phone again. It immediately unlocked to her conversation with Lando, and she hastily replied to his latest, unambiguous proposition.

"I'm a bit busy at the moment. If you want, we can meet later in the evening."

Lando was scrolling through Instagram when a new message popped up in his notifications. He smiled and swiped it open, reading and replying quickly.

"i'd be honored. give me the address of the hotel you're at. and be ready by 9."

The girl smiled and sent him the address along with a note that she couldn't wait, wishing him good luck in qualifying.

Lando felt his cheeks hurting from smiling. However, he locked his phone and set it aside. He knew that if he didn't restrain himself, he would bombard the girl with messages. He was so excited about the whole situation, the overflow of emotions building up in him could easily secure him pole position that day, which he sincerely hoped for. He wanted to present himself in the best possible way, knowing that on that day, one special pair of eyes would be watching him.

Y/N was also excited, but as time passed, she began to feel stressed. Not because she was going on a date with Lando Norris, but because she was about to confront someone whom she may have known inside out but in reality had no idea who he truly was. She was slightly apprehensive about whether Lando would turn out to be as he portrayed himself on his Tinder profile. There, she dealt with a confident guy who knew how to flirt, who knew how to make a girl's heart beat faster. With a guy who focused only on fun and ultimately only on it. Someone who knew what he wanted and sooner or later would get it, one way or another. Now, knowing her conversation partner's identity, Y/N was certain that their online acquaintance might only exist in that dimension. And just as she had realized before, somewhere in the back of her mind lived a lonely spark, nourished by the hope that something more serious might come out of this online acquaintance. Lando was out of her reach, that was more than certain. However, she didn't plan to dwell on negative thoughts because she had a chance for a pleasant evening ahead of her. She had no intention of ruining it.

Qualifying didn't come as a surprise to anyone, as Max was to start the race from pole position the next day, with Charles in second place. But to everyone's positive surprise, Lando closed the top three, giving McLaren the opportunity to start from third position. Y/N planned to text him and congratulate him on his excellent performance, but she decided to wait until evening with her congratulations. She didn't want to come off as pushy or, worse, as a psycho.

Lando, indeed, was pleased with himself, but not as much as if he had managed to secure pole position. Y/N could notice this on one of the monitors, where post-qualifying interviews with drivers conducted by David Coulthard were taking place.

"Great performance, Lando, you were on Ferrari's heels today!"

"We did well today, not just me, but Oscar and the whole team as well. I hoped for more, but you know, the appetite comes with eating," he replied, but despite the smile on his flushed face, he actually seemed not very pleased with the result. Y/N was packing her things when she observed post-qualifying talks out of the corner of her eye. "I wanted to perform particularly well today, but unfortunately it didn't work out. I hope tomorrow will be better."

The girl sighed and glanced at the contents of her bag, looking at her phone lying at the bottom. She took it out and unlocked it, entering their conversation. She wanted to send him a selfie, smiling and holding up four fingers with a note congratulating him on the result, but she thought it might be a bit silly. So, she quickly wrote an alternative.

"Speaking of appetite, I hope you're looking forward to dinner more positively than to your third starting place. In my opinion, you did great today x"

When Lando finally had the chance to reach for his phone and saw the message from the girl, he sincerely hoped to see her face again. He hovwever, was pleased with her congratulations.

"i can't wait for tonight. and I hope tomorrow we'll have better reasons to celebrate"

Y/N smiled to herself, throwing her bag over her shoulder and heading with the cameraman to the media zone to have the opportunity to talk to some of the drivers or team principals. She replied quickly.

"We?"

"tomorrow I'd also like to invite you to dinner. because i'm afraid tonight may not be enough for us"

The girl felt herself blushing, so she quickly put her phone in her pocket. She didn't manage to run into Lando in the media zone again, but she had the opportunity to gather some more good material. As the drivers began to return to their garages and the paddock slowly began to empty, Y/N and the cameraman also decided to return to the hotel. The girl was absolutely not in the mood to deal with the footage recorded that day, so she was immensely grateful when her coworker offered to spend the rest of the day on preliminary editing and assured her that she didn't have to worry about anything. Y/N breathed a sigh of relief, as in her current pre-date euphoria, she wouldn't be able to create anything suitable for publication. When the girl returned to her hotel room, she decided to take a long bath. Sitting in the tub, her phone lying nearby vibrated again.

"actually, would you mind if i pick you up at 8?"

Y/N smiled when she read his message. She glanced at her watch. She still had 3 hours before leaving, so she should manage without any trouble.

"Why, have you already missed me?"

Lando snorted to himself as he read her message. He would be lying if he said he hadn't. He wanted to see her again as soon as possible.

"if i'm being honest, i would like to be sitting with you at dinner already"

Y/N also smiled. It was cute and completely unlike the image Lando had built and which she had in her head.

"I guess I shouldn't torture you that much. I'll try to be ready by 7."

Lando smiled and squeezed his phone in his hand. Now he couldn't wait for the meeting even more.

"see you then, darling"

The girl blushed when he affectionately called her that. She set aside her phone and immersed herself in the hot water, but even that couldn't wipe the smile off her face.

At the agreed time, both of them were ready. When the girl stepped out of the hotel, she didn't even need to look around, as she easily noticed Lando leaning against his impressive car. He held a bouquet of white flowers in his hand and smiled as soon as he saw her. He walked a little towards her, but he had no idea how to greet her. Offer her his hand? Hug her? What would be most appropriate? He didn't want to make a fool of himself.

"Hi, good to see you," he said, unable to take his eyes off her. He bit his lip, but still couldn't stop smiling. "You look stunning."

"You too, but I'm sure you already know that," she replied, looking into his eyes. They were sparkling, brightening up his already joyful face. Even though he was wearing a dark shirt and dark jeans, his hair was slightly disheveled, and she could already smell his cologne almost on the stairs, Lando at that moment looked adorable, like an elated child.

"Maybe so, but it's always nice to hear it from someone like you," he replied, extending the flowers towards her. "Here, these are for you. And I hope I didn't make a mistake and accidentally buy you flowers you hate."

The girl chuckled softly and shook her head, taking the flowers from him and smelling them.

"No, absolutely not. I love white flowers, and these are beautiful. Thank you."

"Phew, thank god," he theatrically let out a sigh of relief "Glad I started off on the right foot."

"I rather doubt you don't know how to behave around girls," she retorted, following him as he opened the car door for her.

"Well, I'm afraid you might be surprised," he replied, helping her into the car and closing the door behind her.

Lando chose a very pleasant restaurant, located not far from the hotel where the girl was staying. The place was cozy and seemed expensive, but it manifested in a modest way, without any tackiness or artificial wealth. He reserved a table in the corner of the room, so they could expect a bit of privacy. Before taking his seat at the table, he pulled out the chair for the girl. She tried her best to remain composed, but the smile never left her face. This meeting and this whole situation was more than crazy.

"I hope I picked a good place," he said, sitting across from her. "I've never been to these restaurants before, so today's choice was largely based on Google reviews."

He admitted, glancing at her uncertainly. But seeing her smile, he smiled too.

"It's very nice here. Your choice didn't disappoint."

"Second victory in twenty minutes, going better than I expected," he joked, eliciting a quiet laugh from the girl. He then thought it was a good sign that she laughed at his jokes. It meant that this whole situation had potential.

Lando was genuinely stressed about this meeting. He knew well how people perceived him and what kind of guy girls thought he was, but the truth was entirely different. His hands were sweating with nerves in the car, and he prayed that the steering wheel wouldn't slip from his hands and cause some idiotic accident. Upon returning to the hotel, he spent over two hours searching for the right place to take the girl for dinner and did about twenty quizzes on what flowers he should buy her for their first date. Since he met her at the paddock, they had the opportunity to talk, and he managed to connect all the facts. He felt like either his heart would jump out of his chest or his cheeks would fall off from smiling. In reality, Lando was absolutely not who he portrayed himself to be and how he was perceived. And Y/N was slowly starting to realize that.

When the couple placed their orders and the waiter brought the vase for flowers that Lando had requested earlier, there was a moment of silence. Both were equally embarrassed, not knowing if it was because of each other or the whole situation.

"So," Lando started, rubbing his hands on his pants, "oh god, I don't even know where to begin. Should we pretend we don't know each other and this is our first meeting? Or perhaps the opposite?"

"I honestly have no idea, but I'm glad we both don't know how to behave," Y/N laughed. "But we can start over. Like it's our first date."

She smiled warmly at him. He reciprocated the smile and reached out his hand towards her.

"Lando, nice to meet you."

"Y/N, and it's also a pleasure for me, Lando."

She shook his hand. From that moment on, everything started to go smoothly. The conversation flowed smoothly, and there wasn't a single moment when there wasn't something to talk about. Lando turned out to be the complete opposite of the person she met on Tinder. He was also different from the Lando she sometimes observed in the media. He turned out to be a funny and very intelligent guy with interesting hobbies, not just those revolving around Formula 1. His big heart and incredible modesty also made it impossible not to feel sympathy towards him. Lando, on the other hand, wasn't really up for this meeting, he honestly had no idea what to expect. As it turned out, he met not only an attractive but also hardworking girl, for whom motorsport was not just a job but also a hobby. It also turned out that they had a lot in common, so after a while, the remnants of stress and uncertainty disappeared, and they began to feel in each other's company as if they had known each other for ages.

Their conversation was only interrupted by the waiter, who apologized and said that the restaurant was closing in fifteen minutes. Y/N and Lando both looked at their watches at the same time and were shocked to find that it was just before midnight, and the past five hours had flown by like fifteen minutes.

"Sure, of course, we'll ask for the check," Lando replied to the waiter, who went to tally their dinner. As soon as the girl reached for her purse, Lando looked at her meaningfully. "I hope you don't think I brought you here for you to have to pay."

"We can split the bill," she replied, looking at him and clutching her wallet. "People usually do that on first dates, right?"

"It would be a pleasure if you honored me to be a gentleman and let me pay."

Y/N laughed and shook her head.

"As you wish, Mr. Gentleman."

When he paid for their dinner, they left the restaurant together. Lando once again opened the car door for her, and their eyes met when their faces were inches apart as she passed him to take the passenger seat. When they were back at her hotel, the girl reluctantly glanced towards the entrance. She would have loved to spend time with him until the early morning.

She sighed and smiled sadly, looking at him.

"I know, me too," he replied, easily reading her thoughts. "But we'll probably bump into each other in the paddock in the morning. Purely by chance, of course, not like I'll intentionally run into you, absolutely not."

Y/N chuckled at his words.

"It was very nice spending the evening with you, Lando."

"The pleasure was all mine," he replied, smiling at her.

They sat in silence for a moment, exchanging silent glances.

"Would it be inappropriate if I kissed you now? Since we agreed that today we're starting with a clean slate?"

He asked, his gaze moving from her eyes to her lips.

"People don't usually kiss on first dates, but I feel like I've seen these lips somewhere before, and they've told me a lot of different, indecent things, so I think we can make an exception."

She replied, biting her lip. She surprised herself with her boldness, not to mention Lando, who just saw the same girl who he sometimes saw on the screen of his phone in the evenings. As soon as he got her consent, he touched her cheek without hesitation and pulled her into a long, passionate kiss.

Y/N returned the kiss, smiling into his lips.

"Have a good race tomorrow, and after tomorrow's dinner, I'll invite you for dessert."

She whispered, still centimeters away from him, when they separated after a moment. Lando unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car, circling around it, opening her door, and offering her his hand.

"I think I can fit in dessert tonight too," he replied, biting his lip and looking into her eyes. She returned the smile and handed him her hand without hesitation. It seemed that the evening was not ending for these two, on the contrary, it was just about to begin.

[sweetkpopmusings]

stray kids soulmate aus | y. jeongin <3

a/n: oh gosh, don't even get me started on how much i love jeongin :,-((( he has such a special place in my heart, so i hope my fellow innie girls appreciate this au as much as i do <333 pics not mine~

content: fluff, soulmate au | wc: 2k  | warnings: none really! | pairing: soulmate!jeongin x gn!reader | requests: open

♡ chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin ♡

a soulmate mark appears on your body the first time you and your soulmate touch.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

jeongin wasn’t one to dwell much on when he’d meet his soulmate. he was happy with his life exactly as it was, and, unlike a lot of people, he lacked anything that hinted to when, where, or how he would meet his person. jeongin decided, that rather than falling into an existential crisis, he’d keep his thoughts glued to the present moment. everything would fall into place eventually. jeongin trusted that.

you, on the other hand, weren’t always so secure in the ambiguity of it all. lately, it seemed as though all of your friends were meeting their soulmates. you were happy for them, but the question of when is it my turn? nagged the back of your mind more often than you’d like to admit. you confided in your best friend one night about all of this, and, despite their lovestruck state after just meeting their person, they understood your feelings perfectly. everyone who knew you knew that you had a lot to offer, and they all wanted you to find someone who would tend to your heart like you deserved.

“i know there’s no way to force this kind of thing, but maybe…” your best friend trailed off, clearly considering their suggestion again before vocalizing it.

“at this point, i don’t think any idea is a bad idea,” you sighed.”

“what if you tried going on blind dates?”

“okay, i think we managed to find the one bad idea.”

your best friend laughed at your scowl, “i know, i know. no one wants to go on a blind date when we’re itching to be with our soulmate. but, if you didn’t want to feel like you’re twiddling your thumbs, maybe meeting new people could increase your chances of meeting your person sooner?”

you had to give it to them. their logic checked out. logic did not equal appeal though, so you gave them a “maybe” and a promise to let them set up the first blind date if it came to that. understanding the shift in tone, your friend changed the subject to your current content obsession. you let out a deep breath, happy to focus on something other than your incessant, endless longing to know who you were destined to be with.

a few days passed before you gave proper thought to the whole blind date suggestion. during your break, you sat in a plaza outside your office building, mind wandering with the background buzz of businesspeople. 

going on a string of blind dates seemed like a cinematic nightmare, with no guarantee that you’d meet your soulmate that way. then, there was the chance that this could expedite the process. you had to admit that, if going on some bad blind dates ultimately led to discovering who your soulmate was, then the risk could outweigh the benefits. were you really that desperate though? it didn’t feel great to be one of the few people you knew without your soulmate, but wouldn’t it feel worse to be the only one dating?

“excuse me, do you have a pen i could borrow?”

you frowned slightly at a stranger’s voice breaking your train of thought. that frown melted away, however, when you saw arguably the most attractive person standing in front of you. their golden hair fell in soft waves, accentuating the sharp features of their face. when you were caught in the gaze of their bubbly, brown eyes, you couldn’t fight the butterflies in your stomach.

“oh…i think i have one in my bag,” you answered, turning your face away from the beautiful stranger.

“it’s okay if you don’t!”

their voice was like wind chimes on a perfect spring day, so you prayed that you had a pen. that was a surefire way to hear them speak again.

“ah, here it is!” you smiled and held the pen out.

they grinned, “thank you! i–AH!”

the pen bounced between both of their hands several times before landing on the ground between you two. you laughed at both the comical scene and the frustrated scream they let out.

you leaned forward to grab the pen, jumping slightly when their hand brushed against yours. inhaling, you willed the bolts of lightning in your veins to fade quickly. you couldn’t handle embarrassing yourself in front of someone this cute.

with a sheepish chuckle, they picked up the pen, “i’ll bring this right back to you.”

you shook your head, still trying to regulate your heartbeat, “no, it’s okay! you can keep it.”

their eyes went wide, and you swore you saw them sparkle in the sunlight, “oh! thank you!”

you giggled at their response and again when they offered an awkward goodbye wave at the same time you did. once they turned their back, you bit your lip in a failed attempt to hide the huge smile on your face. that smile faded once you realized you had given away your favorite pen.

by the time your break was over, you made peace with the fact you’d never see that pen again. it was almost out of ink anyway, so maybe this was a sign you should finally buy a new one. you entered your office, sighing for a multitude of reasons.

the rest of the workday passed, and you grew excited at the prospect of returning home. perhaps you would stop at a stationery store on your way back to replace the pen you lost. while you mentally ran through the list of store options, your coworker leaned over your desk.

“hey, y/n! since when do you have a soulmate mark?”

you blinked a few times in confusion, “a what?”

your coworker pointed to the side of your hand, “that, right there! it’s a soulmate mark, isn’t it?”

you lifted your hand to your face, unsure of what to expect. somehow, you had failed to notice the bluish-purple blotch on the side of your hand. 

“i don’t know. maybe it’s just a bruise?”

you glanced up at your coworker, hoping they could provide some insight into the discovery they made. they shook their head vehemently.

“my cousin got one of those on her shoulder last year. it turns out the woman who bumped into her on the train was her soulmate. i swear, yours looks almost exactly like hers. just smaller,” they focused their eyes on your hand again, making you feel a little self-conscious, “yeah, that’s definitely a soulmate mark. how exciting!”

you ran your fingers over the discolored area, “huh, yeah, i guess so…”

not wanting to continue the conversation, you offered them a polite smile. when they asked you to keep them updated, you promised to, even though you had no idea when that mark appeared on your hand, much less who had touched you to cause it. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“wait…so why did you end up running three blocks to get a pen?” jisung furrowed his brow.

jeongin huffed after taking a big bite of food. it always amazed him how many times he’d have to explain stories like this.

“hyunjin’s pen broke,” jeongin pointed to hyunjin with his spoon, “he was having a breakdown because he was feeling so inspired at the café and was going to ‘lose the vision’ if he couldn’t finish his sketches. i wanted to have my drink in peace, so i offered to find a pen. it turns out, in this day and age, someone having a pen on them is rarer than a conversation without changbin flirting.”

hyunjin wrapped his arms around jeongin, “innie, you’re my hero!”

jeongin pushed him away, but hyunjin kept at it, “you saved the drawing. i don’t know how you did it, but you found the perfect pen.”

“that’s our innie! perfect as always!” jisung added in a baby voice.

jeongin groaned, swatting hyunjin away while reaching for more food. when seungmin started talking about a new game, he thought he was finally free from the attention. that dream was shattered when felix spoke.

“jeongin? what happened to your hand?”

jeongin lifted both hands to his face, unable to see anything at first. then, he saw a blue and purple mark on the side of his right hand. 

“i guessed i bruised it,” he shrugged.

“no way!” chan squealed, “that’s a soulmate mark! our innie met his soulmate!”

everyone cheered about how he grew up so fast! and jeongin reassured them that it wasn’t possible. the only people who touched him today were his members, who, thankfully, were not his romantic soulmates.

hunger took over, so everyone returned to their food. in the quiet, something clicked inside jeongin’s head.

“ah! i know who it is!”

his seven members whipped their heads in his direction, perfectly synchronized. 

“it was the pen person!”

hyunjin gasped, “oh my god! this is amazing! were they pretty?”

“why is that your first question?”

minho laughed, “they must be gorgeous. look at how red jeongin’s ears are.”

jeongin waved his hand in the air to dispel the subject. deep down, he appreciated their excitement–they never ceased to amuse him–but their energy didn’t exactly help him figure out how he was going to find you again.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

the fresh air that hit you the second you stepped out of the office building instantly refreshed you. you stretched your arms, gazing around the area to find the perfect spot to enjoy your break. you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw the gorgeous pen person sitting exactly where you sat yesterday.

it had to be a dream, right? what’re the chances that you’d see them again? 

you only realized what the chances were when you caught yourself unconsciously rubbing the bruise-like mark on the side of your hand.

the way you saw it, you had two options. one, you could avoid that spot because you didn’t feel prepared to interact with a person who is downright statuesque during your break today. or, two, you could be brave and meet your soulmate, for real this time.

you took a deep breath and walked forward. the risk of being awkward in the presence of a beautiful person now was way lower than the risk of awkward blind dates, and you had almost convinced yourself to do the latter.

jeongin, twirling the fateful pen and staring off into space, almost missed you walking by. at the last second, he looked up, thrilled to see you again. he felt his heart pound as he spoke. 

“hi! excuse me?” jeongin offered you a smile and a small wave, “i don’t know if you remember, but you gave me your pen yesterday. i think we might be soulmates, so i wanted to see you again to confirm it. if we’re not soulmates, i wanted to compliment your taste in pens.”

how you stayed standing at that moment was beyond you. everything from his gaze, his smile, to his voice had you out of breath and knees weak. his confidence was astounding. while this was a bold move, you respected that he wasn’t going to waste any time waiting and wondering.

“hi! yes, i remember you,” you returned his smile, feeling butterflies when you noticed him blush, “i’m glad you like the pen. i’m y/n.”

unsure of how the soulmate mark thing worked, you offered your hand, which he naturally took into his for a handshake.

“i’m jeongin.” 

you two looked down at your hands. like magic, the bruises faded away into flowers. on your hand was the outline of a violet. you understood the meaning once you saw that jeongin’s hand held an etching of your birth flower.

“well,” jeongin chuckled, “i guess that confirms things then.”

“yeah, i guess so,” you agreed, still holding onto his hand.

before the silence turned awkward, jeongin adjusted your hands from their handshake position so they were comfortably intertwined, “are you on a break right now? i’d love to buy you a replacement pen if you have the time.”

you nodded, not fighting the way your smile beamed when you looked at jeongin, “for a new pen, i have all the time in the world.”

with a charmed laugh, jeongin led you to his preferred stationery store around the corner, tracing the flower on your skin with his pinky finger. it used to feel like you were waiting an eternity to meet your soulmate, but now, with jeongin by your side, you understood forever better than you ever had before.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[angelsinluv]

angel’s fulfillment challenge

welcome to the unofficial official challenge of angel’s vault ☆

i’m going to say this now, this isn’t going to be some crazy, different thing. this is literally how the law works lol but i say challenge because it's for those who see them as fun, want to be disciplined and set the tone for the new year! (or whenever you’re reading this)

𝐈. the point of this challenge is to…

fall in love with imagination

enjoy fulfilling yourself

get your desires duh

stop over consuming and apply no matter if you think you need to know more.

𝐈𝐈. important guidelines!

read this post to get a gist of states because this is what this challenge is about. fulfilling yourself in imagination. you don’t need to read it every time to know you’re doing it right, this challenge will do it all for you.

affirmations and visualizations are techniques so what is your way of thinking that feels comfortable to you? sometimes you don’t even need it. for me, i mostly need to feel that i already have it. have fun, experiment with daydreams/scenes, affirming and/or feeling. it doesn't have to be the same every single time.

𝐈𝐈𝐈. steps

choose what you want. go crazy. do not condition your desires. you are limitless. if you can see it in your mind, you can have it. famous? nepo baby? money? db, df? better self concept? gender revision? time change?

decide right now you are the person who already has what the want. so guess what? there is nothing to get because you already have your desire. manifesting money? you already have it. manifesting an sp? you already have them. manifesting your dream life? you already have it. that is your state.

fulfill yourself every chance you get in the day. no you don’t have to lock yourself in the room to affirm/visualize/feel all day. no you don’t have to be in the state all day, you are always passing through states but remember, the state you constantly make your dwelling place MANIFESTS. so make an effort to return to it as much as you can and want to.

ideas: do it in the morning when you wake up, in the afternoon, whenever you have free time like on your bed, going home, walking, during class and before you go to sleep.

bonus: do this meditation by edward art daily, it's not mandatory. it's not like all the other meditations, give it a shot. get off tumblr, stop over consuming

make it fun, it’s not a chore! have fun daydreaming/visualizing you shopping with all the money you got, getting compliments from people on how they’re so amazed at how successful you are, have fun complimenting yourself in the mirror while you repeat affirmations, have fun looking around and going “yeah, i literally have ____” sounds nice and fun? because it is. manifesting is simple.

4. get your desires. there is no deadline. i hate that shit 😭 srrynotsrry, that would be contradicting the law and this challenge. you already have it, you’re not getting anything on a time crunch. not no 3 days, not a week, not two, not a month. THERE IS NOTHING TO GET WHEN YOU HAVE IT NOW. ONLY NOW.

challenge summary:

YOU ALREADY HAVE IT!

𝐈. why should you fulfill yourself?

because when you fulfill yourself in imagination, you are changing self. and what is a reflection of self? the 3D.

it’s not your job to make things physical. your job is to change your mind.

focus on yourself. there is nothing to change or to get in the 3D because it’s nothing but a mirror that shows/proves you right in what state you identify and dwell in.

“Stop trying to change the world since it is only the mirror. Man’s attempt to change the world by force is as fruitless as breaking a mirror in the hope of changing his face. Leave the mirror and change your face. Leave the world alone and change your conceptions of yourself. The reflection then will be satisfactory.”

“I AM wealthy, poor, healthy, sick, free, confined were first of all impressions or conditions felt before they became visible expressions. Your world is your consciousness objectified. Waste no time trying to change the outside; change the within or the impression; and the without or expression will take care of itself. When the truth of this statement dawns upon you, you will know that you have found the lost word or the key to every door. I AM (your consciousness) is the magical lost word which was made flesh in the likeness of that which you are conscious of being.”

𝐈𝐈. additional tips

doubting? let it pass. don't give it power. why are you doubtful if it's going to come or if the law works when you have what you want right now? if you're dwelling in doubts then you're not being the person who has it.

worried about when it's going to come? that doesn't make sense because you literally have it right now lol

want to ask a question? why? you literally have it. what's there to ask? try asking yourself first.

simple.

have fun, angels. remember that YOU ALREADY HAVE IT. send me your successes in the inbox!

signed, angel ☆

[bamsywrites]

And Comes Dawn pt iii

Pairing: Sauron/Halbrand x Reader, more ships/love triangles to come, though, so stay tuned.

Summary: the deciver has decided he must get rid of you until a stranger reignites his curiosity in an unexpected way.

Word count: 2k

Notes: let me know if you wanna be tagged. I was not expecting this many people to like this fic. Thank you so much for the feed back, I read every comment and reblog multiple times. Keep any and all feedback coming. I'm super invested in this series and have so many plans that I'm so excited to write.

Tags/warning: male masturbation, nothing super explicit but sauron has some pretty unhealthy kinks, slow burn, saurons post nut clarity is murder plotting, sauron being sauron. galadriel finally shows up, cliffhanger

Series Masterlist

“She does nothing but sit there, day in and day out. Our rations are wasted on her!” 

“All of us sit and do nothing because there is fucking nothing to do.”

Halbrand and the older man were fighting again. Halbrand had become annoyed that the other had declared himself the de facto leader of the raft, and his anger exploded when it was proclaimed you had not 'earned' your rations. He had obviously found it absolutely insane and when you made no sound or protest, he took it upon himself to make it known how insane it was. 

“I am the leader here. I have organized the rations, I have kept order, and I have directed where we go.” The other man seemed offended. He had proven himself to be rather arrogant, and you held no surprise that he would suggest such a thing or believe that he was the leader of the raft.

“Oh great Lord of the Raft. How difficult your job must be. Deciding if we die a little to the west or a little to the east.” Halbrand rolled his eyes as he spoke. 

“Be sarcastic all you want. She's lucky we don't throw her in.” 

The air stilled and a dark shadow passed over Halbrands face, his jaw clenched and in a moment he had grabbed the other by their shirt, “The moment you do that is the moment I feed you and every single person on this raft to the wyrm.” Their faces merely inches apart,  Halbrands voice was cold, full of hatred, and it sent a chill over everyone on the raft. The older man stared up at him with fear, a fear so palpable and intense that it was as if he was looking into the eyes of the great foe himself. 

“Halbrand,” you spoke softly, fingers gently wrapping around his wrist and moving him away. “This is not what I wish.”

He turned to look at you and his gaze softened,tongue peaking out to wet his lips. The air flowed again, and the darkness lifted, “You wish to starve? Because that's his wish, that's his plan. He wants to make our supply of food last longer by taking the very little portion you have. He knows you would never say anything to him, and you can not ask me to sit back and watch you starve, sweet one.” His eyes searched your face as he spoke with such earnest conviction. 

“I do not wish for you to murder in my name,” you replied in a passionate whisper. 

Halbrand nodded, sighing softly, “Then I will not,” he leaned closer to you, so his lips were next to your ear, and you could feel his hot breath on your skin. Your breath caught in your voice as he whispered softly, “Know that I would, though. If you only asked, I would burn this raft and everyone on it to keep you safe.” 

He pulled away and pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head as you stood speechless. The butterflies in your stomach exploded. This was new. Your interactions had been purely platonic until this point. He never presented himself as someone more than a friend, and you had been content with that. Yet you enjoyed the feeling of his lips on your forehead and greatly missed them when they were gone. 

The talk of murdering everyone else was one you didn't wish to dwell on. Perhaps it was hyperbolic. Perhaps said in anger. Either way, those were thoughts for another time. Now, you would embrace the shivers and butterflies. 

“Well, your highness, she will be eating today and I will ensure it,” Halbrand gave the man a pointed look and the other simply nodded, his eyes still swimming as if he'd seen some great horror but you were too fixated on the ghost of Halbrands kiss that lingered on your forehead to pay it much mind. 

~

He'd taken the deception too far when he placed that kiss upon your head. He regretted it the moment he did it. The taste of your skin stained his lips, and it was all he could think of. Your skin felt unbelievably soft and he could just imagine what your lips would taste like, your tongue, your cunt. 

Your cunt. The thought of it had been all consuming. Warm and wet. Soft and velvety. He ached to feel it, to taste it, to take it. The thoughts had led to his current position, standing at the edge of the raft with his cock in his fist. This act felt below him but the thoughts wouldn't leave his mind and he needed some relief from them. From the thoughts of you. 

Thoughts of your cunt. 

Warm and wet. Soft and velvet. 

His eyes fluttered, and his breath caught in his throat. He hated every second of this. He had no control. Ever since you looked up at him with those eyes of yours, eyes he wanted to make weep as you choked on his cock. He breathed a soft curse as he imagined your sweet, innocent eyes looking up at him with your lips wrapped around his cock. His thumb collected the precum from his tip and worked it around his shaft, the soft wet sounds filling the night. 

Would you be inexperienced?  Had someone claimed you before? You were his and his alone, his precious sweet one. The thought of someone else having you first filled him with such rage. He would drench his hands in their blood and paint your body with it as he fucked you. His hands around your neck, squeezing enough to feel your life thrumming underneath his fingers. 

You were his and his alone. No one else could touch you, no other lips taste you, no other cock take you. He'd burn all of Middle Earth to ensure it, torture any man who dared look at you. He'd carve his name into your flesh, lick the blood off your skin. A growl escaped his lips, the thought of his name scared into your soft skin. His hand tightened around his cock and his movements increased in speed. 

His breathing got more ragged as he got closer to his peak,  your name tumbling past his lips in a choked whisper. He could almost imagine you whining and whimpering his name, his real name.  That was what sent him over, the visual of you impaled on his cock and desperately calling his name. He groaned loudly, his seed shooting into the water. 

Breathing heavily, his eyes closed. Almost immediately, the cacophony of thoughts entered his mind. That had been a brief reprieve, but now his existential crisis continued. What was his purpose? Who was he now that his master was dead? Power and control, how could he have both without sacrificing the other?  

And then your smiling face flashed through his mind, the sound of your laugh...-

This couldn't continue. No amount of curiosity was worth this loss of control. He was a god, but his mind as of late had been reminiscent of a teenage boy. Thoughts may plague him, but he would forget you within the age. He needed you gone, dead. The longer you stayed alive, the longer these damn lustful thoughts would plague him and be his undoing. He was slowly losing his sanity because of you. 

The problem was he couldn't do it. He tried mere minutes before giving into these urges, but as he looked at your sleeping face, he couldn't bring himself to push you in and under the waves. In thousands of years, no one had been able to still his blade or stay his hand with such ease. He couldn't look at you and take your life. He could not be the one to do it, that thought alone proving to be more a reason for your death. Weakness was not something he would tolerate. 

His mind called out to wyrm, calling it to their location. If he couldn't do it, he'd give the task to something else. By nightfall tomorrow, you'd be gone. You'd be at the bottom of the sea or in the belly of the beast. By nightfall, he'd have his mind back. 

Why did the thought of your death fill him with such dread?

~

He wouldn't even look at you. You'd greeted him in the morning, and he ignored you. You sat next to him, and he moved to the other side of the raft. You watched as his eyes bore into planks of the raft. You wet your lips and pulled it between your teeth. He was your first friend in a very long time, and now you had lost him for reasons that escaped you.  You were utterly alone, lost at sea, and you struggled to find hope here. All you could do is close your eyes and remind yourself that falling into despair would do nothing more than make the situation worse and more hopeless.

You watched the clouds pass in the sky, counting them, and your fingers tapped away at the wood. Every few moments, you had to blink away the tears that had started welling in your eyes as you thought of losing another person you cared for. Suddenly, you sat up as you heard what you thought was a voice in the air. You squinted as your eyes examined the fog.

“There's a voice on the water.” You spoke quietly. 

Almost instantly, bickering broke amongst the others. To save her or not. You shook your head, “We're not leaving her to starve and die!” 

One of the others pulled her up and gave her water as you grabbed her a chunk of bread and looked for a piece of cloth or something that could bring the stranger some warmth. The bickering continued as you searched and returned with a piece of bread.

“Suppose you'll be sharing your rations?” the old man asked. 

You couldn't help the roll of your eyes, “Damn the rations,” you kneeled and handed the stranger the bread. “It's not much, but it's something. Are you hurt?” 

Before she could answer, one of the others asked, “What are you doing out here?”  

The stranger took the bread, “I was separated from my ship.” 

You looked at her with empathy. Of course, you could understand. She looked over at you as if to answer your question next, but she stopped, her eyes examining your face as if she knew you but was unable to place how. It made you uncomfortable, made your heart still. Has your past caught up with you all the way out here? 

“She doesn't look dangerous,” the other woman spoke.

“Looks can be deceiving,” Halbrand spoke, and you were about to protest when you saw the point to her ears. Your blood ran cold, and you moved back from her. 

“Remove your hand from me, sir,” the stranger spoke, her attention returning to you. “I know your face.”

You quickly stood up and stepped back. This could not be happening. Not here. Not now. Perhaps the elf could save you, or perhaps she would convince the others to throw you into the sea. The sins of your father would never stop chasing you, it seemed. 

~

“I know your face."

His head snapped your direction at this revelation. What did that mean? How would an elf know you? He watched your reaction, the fear and shame passing over your face confirming that there was a story there. He cursed silently.

All day, he avoided looking at you. All day, he had convinced himself that you were nothing more than a naive human, that the warmth he felt had to be in relation to this new form getting used to the world around him. There was nothing special about you. Nothing at all. He repeated it over and over, though he never really believed it. He could sense the darkness and calamity swimming through the ocean towards them, the beast he had called, and he had convinced himself that your death would solve his internal struggle. 

But now, this damn elf had reignited the curiosity with vigor. It felt as if an inferno burnt through him. He had to know more. He knew when the wyrm came, he would be unable to leave you to death. You were the most curious thing, and it was infuriating. 

Who were you? 

previous next

[ostrichchariot]

"That's dumb," says Karna. "I think that's dumb. Why can the knight just jump over shit? What's so special about him, huh?"

"Just, uh. Just good at moving, I guess," says Colin, taking the black rook and placing it on his side of the table. It sits there, solid, beside the haphazard array of pawns and a single bishop.

Karna pouts a little. In front of her, on the table, there sit three white pawns, all stood perfectly in line. "'Good at moving.' Urgh. So am I. He's not special." She frowns, and moves a pawn two spaces forward. Colin winces involuntarily, and she glares at him. "What? What did I do?"

"So... I may have forgotten to mention this one. I, uh. I didn't really think it would come up for, uh. Longer than this. To be honest." He gives her a slightly wary look. "You... you ever heard of 'en passant'?"

"'In passing' in Fructeran," she says brusquely. "Now explain."

"Now- ok, I promise I'm not making this one up-" He moves a white pawn to just behind hers, which he smoothly plucks from the board and sets down amongst the cluster of other pieces in front of him.

There is a short silence.

"Are you kidding me," says Karna, voice flatter than the void of space, empty and silent and oh, so deep, and-

"To be fair, that- that's probably one of the stupidest rules I know. If that helps?" says Colin.

"Fine. Fine!" she says. "Sure."

"You know," says Colin delicately, "I could still-"

"No," snaps Karna. "You will not play without a queen." She glares at him with even more ferocity than usual, and lowers her voice to a dangerous drawl. "When I win. If I suspect even for a second that you went easy on me?" Her lip curls into a smirk. "Oh, that would be that last thing you ever did."

"Sure," says Colin. "I mean, sure. I just think it would make the game a bit more fun for you while you're learning. You know?"

Karna rolls her eye. "I want to lose."

"...What?" There is suddenly a deep, unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"I want to lose," she says. "Because it doesn't matter." She grasps his forearms and stares into his eyes, as though willing him to understand. "I want so badly to know what it feels like for losing not to matter. I want to know the loss that is an annoyance, not an ache, not a scar, not a slit throat or a knife in the gut and bleeding out on the pavement."

The hands holding him start to weaken. Rot starts to creep up her neck.

Her pupils are dark voids filled with spinning blades.

"It was too much," she says. "I was so tired. You saw." Her gaze is level, and he remembers running away, and running away, and running away, and looking back. "I was holding on to the edge for so long."

Colin wants to say something. He doesn't know what to say.

"But you can't hold on forever."

And she lets go.

---

He wakes up, and it is still dark, and he is alone.

He never knew her that well, but- she would have been good at chess, he thinks, if she had ever had a chance to learn. Not straight away, of course, but- in time.

No point in dwelling on it. He doesn't want to risk turning into Raphaniel, and- ok, that's another whole thing he's really not interested in delving into right now.

But- she held on for so long.

It seems like the least he can do, to make sure no one else ever has to stare into the void and cling to life so desperately that the muscle of their fingers rots down to bone.

[epigstolary]

On Your Own

The alarm buzzing on your phone announces another day of struggling to navigate your narrow, confined world. After a few minutes of burying your head under the pillow, you muster the strength to reach a heavy, puffy, flab-covered arm out to hit the snooze button. A couple of rocks back and forth with one of your shapeless legs and its bulging, wobbling sacs of fat, ready you to heave for the edge of the bed; and you feel your belly weight begin shifting and cascading over the side, helping to pull you toward an upright sitting position. You feel the now-familiar sensation of the thick layer of blubber burying every inch of your body sloshing with your movement, its weight pushing you down into a crater divoting most of this side of the bed. Your heart races and your breaths come shallow and labored as you recover from this extraordinary exertion, trying to collect yourself for the final push to stand up.

This hadn’t been the plan, not by a long shot. You were supposed to have a feeder, someone to take care of all the details like prepping your vast meals, getting the extensive grocery list needed to keep the overworked kitchen full, tidying up and performing all the personal care rituals you’d gotten too fat to do yourself without it taking a literal workout. And for a while, you’d had one. Someone who was happy, even eager, to see you gain as much as you possibly could. Someone who would have been far from disappointed to see you overwhelm your bed with your lard-packed body and keep eating. And someone who was willing to put in the work to help you make it happen.

He was there, cooking before and after work, making sure you had the piles of alternately greasy or fatty or sweet or salty food you needed to keep your waistline expanding and the rolls covering your body growing. He was there restocking your snack cabinet and your soda fridge and your containers of prepped meals so you rarely had to do more than waddle to the kitchen to find a couple thousand calories waiting for you. He was there to admire your growing bulk, watching as that heavy swollen belly swallowed up your lap, that ballooning butt anchored you more and more firmly to the couch, that double chin and those tits and that bicep flab piled up around your chest as if to bury you.

He’d eventually fed you to a point beyond what you’d have ever thought possible. He made sure you were tantalized by food 24/7, always able to have something tasty and fattening on hand at any moment of the day, never not thinking about your next snack or meal or indulgence. His encouragement left you with a permanent craving for something at all times — a craving he was always ready to satisfy. You didn’t worry about what his doting attention was doing to your body, or your stamina, or your health, because he was there. He was taking care of you. Even if you wound up in bed and too fat to ever move again, he’d be there to make sure you had everything you needed. You could get as big as you wanted, and know that he would always find a way to make it work.

And then he was gone. It wouldn’t do any good to dwell on how, again, for the thousandth time. The stark fact was that now you were on your own — no job, nothing like the amount of food he’d kept stocked up, struggling even to move under the 700 lbs he’d fed into you. You managed to avoid disaster — dusting off your resume and finding remote work, setting up a service for groceries, getting a monthly pass to keep your lifeline of fast food deliveries coming. But you knew how precarious your situation was, and how little it would take for your morbidly-obese, food-addicted self to be in real trouble, if you put on just a few pounds or had to try and travel hardly any distance.

Because you definitely weren’t getting any smaller. Fear didn’t keep you from picking up the fork; if anything, it made you shovel more junk down your throat. And how else were you supposed to lose weight, join a gym and start exercising? You knew you could bounce along on a treadmill for two or three minutes at most before your pounding heart and burning lungs would force you to quit. You’d be reduced to a wheezing, overheated mound of blubber desperately trying to collect yourself in front of a gym full of fit, healthy, judgmental people. You’d have to make do at this size for as long as your luck would hold out, hoping against hope that you wouldn’t grow and lose what little mobility you still had.

And so you do your best to stumble through your morning routine — your ass and belly squeaking as they rub against the sides of the shower stall they’re too big for, your chubby arms and bingo wings quivering as you reach into the grease-soaked paper bag for another fast-food breakfast sandwich, your couch creaking ominously as you settle in for work with your laptop and your chocolate-caramel-laced excuse of a coffee. You know, somewhere deep down, that there’s a ticking clock counting down — this is not a stable situation that can last forever. You know you can’t stop gorging and gaining. Things aren’t desperate enough yet for you to want to; but even if you did, you know you couldn’t. The day is coming when you’ll be stuck here, too big to help yourself anymore, no way to save yourself from snowballing growth. You know you can’t stop it.

And you realize why, for the first time. The voice you hear in the back of your mind, telling you how hungry you are, how tasty that little snack or dessert would be, is his voice. When you run your fingers across the soft, yielding flab spreading out from your body, it’s his touch, his hands that you feel. And when that yearning, aching, burning desire to eat even more and grow even heavier overtakes you, it’s his desperate lust that you feel. “I need you so much bigger, babe… I need you fat enough to fill this bed, so the real feeding can start.”

It doesn’t matter that he isn’t around anymore. That living independently and being a half-ton are a complete contradiction. That caring for yourself and being a bedbound lardpile are irreconcilably exclusive. You might be on your own, but he insinuated himself into your psyche a long time ago. After him, there was no going back to your merely chubby former self. His encouragement was corrupting to your very soul; and you were chained to him and his wishes as surely as if the ghost of his memory were the living, breathing man, delicately forcing another fattening morsel between your lips.

You were his. You are his. And he wants you fatter.

[maryangelex]

Good for Me

Captain Price x f!Reader

Summary: You work in intel for Task Force 141 and work very closely with Captain Price. You’ve had a crush on the man for ages and he knows it. He’s turned you down many times knowing he’s way too old for you, except this time he give into temptation.

Warnings: nsfw, age gap, praise kink, p in v sex, fluff to smut, mutual pining, soft dom! price, creampie, smut with plot, unprotected sex, super long and not proofread, huge warning for extreme corniness.

A/N: me, personally, I’m a Simon ride or die bitch I literally only read Simon fanfics… but the abundance of price fanfics made me cave and now I finally get it, so I made this. Enjoy!!!!

You had been working as an intel officer for Task Force 141. This position granted you the pleasure of working with Captain Price very closely. The two of you made a good team and would even say you had a sort of friendship going on besides just being coworkers.

This proximity made things more intimate between the two of you, though. And you would be lying if you said you hadn’t sparked a crush pretty early on into your career with him.

Can anyone blame you, though? John was the full package; tall, handsome, occasionally made you laugh with what would be considered ‘dad jokes’, and he had a perfectly masculine and burly appearance that complimented his kind nature. All of which made you enamored, naughtily pining for him like a schoolgirl crushing on her teacher.

He knew this, of course. Not because he could tell but because you personally told him and continued to make passes at him, hoping he would change his mind and give you a chance. The first time you told him, he was taken off guard by it. A mix of surprise and disbelief, he thought you were kidding at first but you insisted you had no reason to lie. From then on, you two stayed on amicable terms and your crush became something he teased you about and that the two of you bantered together about. But you still clung to that crush, your feelings were never fleeting.

“‘Afternoon, Cap” you announced cheerily as you entered Price’s office with two mugs in hand “Brought ya tea!”

Price sat at his desk, head deep in paperwork, and returned the greeting with a sigh, barely looking up at you.

“Come on, lighten up and let’s take a break. Rome wasn’t built in a day and you sure as hell aren’t gonna finish that stack anytime soon.”

He plopped the file down to the side of his table, away from his sight as he let out a sigh and reclined in his chair, finally looking at you he said “Cheers, doll” as he took the mug in his hand. He took a sip of the contents in the cup and let out a satisfied hum along with a chuckle.

“Just how you like it,” you said taking a sip of your own.

“You just know me so well,” he smiled.

You chatted lightheartedly with him, the usual for how your conversations went with him unless there was a professional matter to discuss. Somehow the conversation came to be about how Price had never been married at his age and you playfully teased him about not settling down.

“I was almost married once,” he sighed, “but my work got in the way, she couldn’t handle the time apart and I don’t blame her for it”. He shrugged it off, a subject that was way in the past for him so no use dwelling on it.

“Well, I work with you so not much distance to worry about” you teased leaning forward to put your elbows on his desk sitting across from him on the other side of it.

“Plus I make you the perfect tea! I’m basically the perfect candidate to be your wife”

“You’ve got a point” he said with a light chuckle, followed by a sigh “I’m just too old for ya, kid”

The room fell silent as you looked down at your fingers rimming the now empty cup. You felt his gaze on him, as if he knew what you were thinking and was waiting for your response.

“Just give me a chance, John” you said looking back at him, meeting his gaze with your slightly pleading one. You knew you looked desperate and naive, but it had just been too long a game of cat and mouse and it wasn’t lighting up for you. You had tried getting over this crush for months, sleeping with other soldiers on the base, going out in various one-time dates. But all you could think about was Price, how it should’ve been him all along, how he’s the right one and all the others felt just so wrong.

Truth be told, Price secretly reciprocated the feelings. He had come to terms with it months ago after he realized you really were perfect and that a connection between the two of you very much existed. You had been occupying his thoughts a bit too often on a daily basis, and there had been times when he had given in on his late night temptations but felt guilty right after.

“It’s 10 years apart, love” he gave you a pained look.

“Who cares, John? I certainly don’t. Hell, my parents are years apart as well and no one gives a shit,” definitely not 10 years apart but you withheld that information from him.

“I’m your superior, doll, and I’m much older than you. It’s just not right.”

You stared at him with wide, beseeching eyes, as if you were gonna start tearing up. But you let out a sigh and shook your head at yourself. You smiled at him, feigning happiness and moved on from the conversation. He returned the smile knowing you were showing him a sign that you wanted to pretend that never happened, same as always, same as all the times he had turned you down before for the same concern about being too old for you.

The next morning was like every other morning. You had let the subject hide at the back of your mind, ignored it as best as you could. As always, it lingered and haunted you, but you continuously evaded it in your mind. Waiting for it to pass like a light cold.

You entered your office ready to start your day, to deal with papers upon papers, report to Price, and have the same chats and laughs with him as every other day that had gone by. Except as soon as you entered your office, an arrangement of flowers stood out like a sore thumb in the center of your work desk.

Asters, baby’s breaths, begonias, and dark pink carnations. You rolled your eyes as you approached it, thinking it was probably one of the soldiers you had most recently gone out with trying to get your attention after a mediocre date. You took the note that stuck out from the bouquet and read:

See you tonight at 8? Meet me in the parking lot.

Dress pretty for me, doll.

Check ‘Yes’ or ‘No’.

Return to sender.

-John.

You read it over and over again, feeling like your eyes were deceiving you. Well, you only knew of one John that called you ‘doll’, and you only knew one John who would do something this corny. But that same John was the one that had frequently expressed platonic feelings for you. Still, you clung onto hope that it really was from him. You ticked the box labeled ‘yes’ on the silly piece of paper, and couldn’t help the beat your heart skipped or the red staining your cheeks as you did so.

Later that day, you walked down the hallway of the base, heading to Price’s office to drop off the files you needed to report to him, and the note rested snug in your pocket. You debated whether you should bring it up, maybe it wasn’t him after all and you didn’t want to embarrass yourself to him more than you did on a daily occurrence. You entered his office and greeted him like always, placing the files on his desk. He greeted you and acknowledged you with a smirk plastered on his face.

“Thanks, love.” Price cleared his throat, “You got anything else for me?” He looked at you with raised brows expectantly.

So it was him, you thought. Your eyes lit up and your face turned scarlet. An involuntary smile crept up on your face, and you dug into your pocket for the note. You placed it on the table face down and without saying anything to him, you turned on your heels and walked speedily out of his office.

Price chuckled to himself and shook his head as he read the contents of the note.

You followed his written commands that night: dressed up at 8. You wore a satin slip dressed that hadn’t been worn to any of your previous rendezvous, as if it had been tucked away in waiting to be worn just for him. You waited in the parking lot like he instructed you and you were checking every second that ticked on your wrist watch, your breath hitching with each one. Until you saw him approach you, dressed in his civies; tight-fitting black shirt and jeans. The shirt contoured every bulging muscle in his body, solid and toned; his jeans fitting like a glove, a little too well in certain places.

He raked his eyes along your body in the light colored satin dress that clung to your body in all the right ways, eyeing you like you were a finely carved sculpture at a museum.

“You look stunning, love” he cooed, then extended his arm for you. “Shall we?”

You laced your arm around his bicep letting him escort you, your smile never leaving your face.

He took you to a bar you both had visited before with the rest of the team. This time it was just the two of you sitting in an isolated, dimly lit booth; a more romantic atmosphere than you had experienced previously the times you had been there with a group of drunken men.

The liquor you two ingested throughout the night was abundant, and it’s effects definitely reflected on you more than him. Your cheeks were burning red with alcohol and your movements were loose and fluid with him. You were carefree and loud and he loved every second of it, definitely getting a good amount of laughs from him. Although you two already had a fair amount of chemistry, courage was a real thing with you; you didn’t feel the slightest bit of shame or shyness with him tonight.

And he was enjoying himself just as much. The thought of how much he had been missing out on for rejecting you sporadically crossed his mind. He thought about how good you were as company, cherished you two’s daily routine, about how much he had been depriving himself of by not letting himself admit to you how he really felt.

Towards the end of the night your table was adorned with evidence of how much you two had drank and a sign that it was time you got back.

“Alright, that’s enough for ya,” he said sliding out of the booth, reaching his hand out for you to follow him. “Don’t want you getting too pissed, yeah?”

You laughed, taking the hand he held out to you and stepping out of the booth. You were tipsy but had control over yourself.

Once you exited the bar, you and Price idled outside before going back to the base, as he put a cigar to his lip and lit it. You watched him intently, observing how the cigar clung to his lips, how his lips wrapped around it.

“What made you change your mind?” You asked as you leaned against the wall next to you. He looked at you, taking a drag and exhaling it.

“Dunno,” he began “wanted to give you a chance, like you said.”

“What’s your verdict?”

He took a moment as he gathered his thoughts, taking another drag and looking into your eyes. He reached his arm to you, his knuckle brushed against your cheek. You leaned into his touch.

“Been missing out on how good you can make me feel. Denied myself the joy of having you around like this…closer than when we’re in the office” He spoke earnestly, taking the cigar from his lips and maintaining it in his hand as he gazed into your eyes.

You took a step closer to him, your eyes never diverting away from his. He stepped closer to you as well.

In his mind, a voice told him this was a mistake. He was your superior, he was much older than you, this would never work out, and you were going to end up hurt. But a louder, more indulgent voice told him to get closer and closer to you, to place his hand on your waist and pull you closer.

Your eyes were dilated in the dimly lit back of the bar and his were dark blue pools that drowned you. You were pulled closer to him, snaking your hand up the arm that pulled you.

“So what happens next?” You asked in a soft and anticipatory voice.

“Do you want this?” He asked, almost a whisper.

You nodded, still not breaking eye contact. Your bodies were flush against each other by this point and your palms laid on his burly chest.

With that confirmation, Price leaned forward and his lips graced against yours. They were plump and soft, his beard and mustache caressing your soft skin as he pressed his lips with yours.

The kiss was longing yet tender and shy simultaneously. He pulled back slightly and leaned back in, this time his lips were slightly parted, hugging yours when they joined again. Your hands slid up his chest to around the back of his neck, entwining into the hair on his nape. His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, his body melding with yours, one of his hand snaked up your back as the other shifted slightly lower towards your hips, towards the small of your back.

He pulled back, face still centimeters from yours and his eyes meeting yours. The tip of his nose nuzzled yours. One of his hands came up to cup your face, thumb rubbing against your cheekbone, before his lips clashed against your own once more. This time, it was more filled with passion, more desire and less reservation. You held your breath as he kissed you, gripping his hair between your fingers and kissing him back just as fervently.

He took another step towards you, guiding your body against the wall behind you. His lips massaged against yours, opening your lips slightly as his tongue pried into your mouth. You welcomed it with the tip of your own, a pleased hum escaping your throat at the feeling.

His body was pressed against yours and your body was against the wall as he held you close and gripped your body, as if you would disappear if he didn’t hold you any tighter. The two of you broke away momentarily to catch your breaths before you leaned back in with force and desperation, this time he was the one letting out a pleasured groan. Both of his hands ran down the side of your body as if you were a piece of clay being sculpted on a pottery wheel, then reached for your ass, tightly gripping it, and making you moaned within the kiss.

The sound increased his desire for you, and you could tell not just by the force of his movements and his kisses, but because of the stiffness in his jeans. A hand now slid up your thigh and under the hem of your dress, slightly lifting it against him with a firm grip.

“John…” you moaned between his lips, your hand ran down his front and in between the two of you down to his crotch. You palmed his stiff manhood through his jeans and he let out a groan in response.

“Fuck, baby…” he exhaled, breaking the kiss momentarily “Not here.”

You looked at him puzzled, blown pupils and out of breath.

“You deserve to be fucked properly, sweetheart, not here in this alley. I need to fuck you right…in my bed” he whispered sultrily against your lips before planting a gentle kiss.

He took you into his room, barely able to take his hands off you on the way there. He kissed you deeply and sloppily, too desperate and hard by this point. You couldn’t complain, though, your panties felt soaked and uncomfortable, your pussy desperate for him to touch it.

You stood with him at the foot of his bed. His kisses were messy and wet, his hands groping every bit of your body. He kneaded your ass and slid up your front up to your breasts, cupping each mound of soft flesh in his large calloused hands. His fingers ran under the thin straps of your dress and he slid them down your shoulders and arms, letting the dress fall to the floor with ease, and leaving you in nothing but your white lacy panties. He pulled back to admire your bare body. God, the amount of times he had imagined what it looked like under your clothes, how many times he had fucked into his fist in the late nights that he couldn’t get the thought of you out of his head no matter how hard he tried. He devoured you with his eyes, then his hands returned to cup your breasts, gripping them with care and adoration, your nipples being taken between his index and middle finger.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, doll. Your perfect tits…you’re so fucking perfect” he cooed, his words eliciting a moan from you and a palpitation in between your legs.

“Lay down for me, yeah?”

You complied, letting yourself onto the bed behind you. He palmed himself through his jeans as he looked down at you. He had you right where he wanted you, splayed out in his sheets ready, inviting him to fuck you. He crawled on top of you, your hands reaching to touch his torso. Your hands gripped at the hem of his shirt and hiked it up, silently signally for him to take it off, and he complied, kneeling over you as he tugged the shirt off his back.

Fuck, he was something else. He was godly and sculpted, he belonged in an art exhibit. As he sat back on his haunches and in between your legs, you ran your hands down his toned body, from his chest down to his abdomen and lower to his v-line, arriving at the waistband of his jeans.

“I need you, John,” you practically moaned. “Please”

“You need me, huh?” He smirked. “Go on then, love, ‘s all yours.”

You bit your lip and fumbled to unbutton his jeans, your hands shaky with a mix of shyness and excitement. He took your hands in his and helped you slide the zipper down, then helped you tug his jeans down and maneuvered himself out of them, now staying in his boxers. His length was explicitly contoured by the fabric of his underwear. It was obscene how big and girthy he was, your mouth and pussy watered at the sight. You stroked him through his boxers and he rutted against your hand.

“Come on, sweetheart, take it” he encouraged you, placing his hand on yours and rubbing it on himself, a low groan escaping his lips.

You pulled his boxers down, his cock springing free, and your heart skipped a beat. You had no idea how you’d be able to take that length. He smiled as if he could read your thoughts.

“Stroke it, love, go on.”

And you complied, wrapping your dainty fingers around his cock, making him sigh and cuss under his breath at the feeling of your gentle hands.

You tugged at it, stroking your hands up and down from tip to base. Your thumb rubbed the fat, leaking head of his cock, smearing the precum emerging from his slit. His eyes were on you the whole time, his breath ragged and his hips moving rhythmically with your slow strokes.

He reached down to you and took each of your thighs into his hands, spreading your legs open for him to accommodate himself between them. He leaned his body down, his face close to yours as he collided his lips with yours once more. He trailled his tongue from your lips, down to your chin, neck and sternum. His hands moved from your thighs to your breasts, kneading one in one hand, and took the other in his mouth.

He alternated between lapping at the sensitive buds and sucking the mounds, making you mewl and throw your head back at the sensation. The hand that was stroking him joined the other one at tugging the hair on his head to ground yourself.

His hands were all over you before they returned to grip your thighs; his mouth followed the same route, running down your abdomen before he settled cozily between your legs. He looked up at you as he left kisses and nips on the sensitive skin in your inner thighs. His eyes were dark and gleaming with pleasure. You looked like a mess wiggling under his touch, you couldn’t wait for him to finally take your panties off and taste you.

“You wore these for me, hm, baby?“ he rubbed your pussy through the lacy fabric as he looked up at you. “Were you thinking of me fucking you the whole night?”

You nodded shamelessly and it elicited a chuckle from him. “You’re a little slut, aren’t you? Wearing these for me, anticipating for me to fuck you.”

He tugged the panties down your legs, gripping them in his fist as he smelled and tasted the saturated crotch. He let out a satisfied hum before settling them on the other side of the bed. His hand now reaching for your bare pussy, running his thick fingers between your slick wet folds.

“So fuckin’ wet f’me and I’ve barely gotten started”

You moaned desperately at his slow and teasing touch, wiggling your hips to get more friction, but he stopped you by gripping your hips with his other hand.

“Uh-uh, sweetheart, you’re gonna be a good girl and stay still for me” he scolded you as he moved his fingers painfully slow, coating himself in your slick. You obeyed him, like the good girl he wanted you to be for him.

Because you were so obedient and docile, he rewarded you by rubbing his index and middle finger over your throbbing clit, making you suck in a breath and let out a moan. He rubbed the bundle of nerves with his wet fingers, slowly yet with the perfect amount of pressure, it made your eyes shut and your pussy flutter, getting impossibly wetter.

Price was watching every movement you made, his eyes alternating between looking up at you and back down at the sight of your glistening pussy and how his fingers looked on it.

He slid both digits inside your hole at a burning slow pace. The sensation of your hole stretching at the entrance and your walls clenching around them once he was in there made his dick twitch.

“Fuckin’ hell, baby, your pussy’s taking my fingers so well. So fuckin’ warm and tight.” He pumped his fingers in and out of your pussy, at first slowly and then increasing his pace little by little. It made you moan in blissful pleasure, your back arching off the mattress, making Price’s grip on your hip increase.

“Remember, doll; be a good girl for me and I’ll reward ya, ‘kay?” He warned, stilling his fingers inside you “Don’t make me have to punish you”

You nodded complacently. “ ‘M sorry, John” you pleaded.

He let out a small chuckle as he kissed your inner thigh again, whispering “that’s my girl” against your skin. He returned to pumping his fingers inside you, his pace increasing. His fingers curled inside you, pressing the spot within you that made you see stars. He played with your pussy so expertly, as if he knew his way around your body like a map he had memorized. He whispered praises as he fucked his fingers into you. You moaned like a madwoman overwhelmed with pleasure, your walls clenching and pulsating against his fingers.

He watched you unravel for a bit, before moving his face close to your pussy, sticking out his tongue to lap at your clit with his fingers slowing down their pace in and out of you. His tongue was flat, lapping at your stimulated clit at the rhythm of his fingers. It made you borderline scream and clamp down on his fingers.

“J-John, please!” You pleaded, not knowing at what, maybe pleading for him to have some mercy on you and grant you release. It drove him crazy to hear you say his name, sending a shock straight to his cock, motivating to lick and suck on your clit and his fingers fucked you harder and faster.

You were right there, right there, right at the verge of cumming. His other hand that once had a firm grip on your hip now loosened and let go, migrating to play with one of your breasts.

Now free, you rutted your hips against his mouth, his beard and mustache were coated in your juices that you smeared the more you moved on him. He moaned against your pussy and at the sensation of one of your hands tugging at his hair. Your other hand found itself gripping the sheets next to you. You were a mess of moans and begs for John to let you cum.

“Cum for me, darling, come on. Be a good fucking girl and cum for me, princess” he said against your pussy before returning to devour it.

You felt the pressure in your stomach well up, overwhelming you until you snapped and broke euphorically. You choked out a final moan as your back arched up against the mattress, your thighs closing around Price’s head; pussy clasping around his fingers and juices spilling out onto his face. You let out a sob as you came undone.

Price looked up at you, leaving kisses on your pussy as he removed his fingers from you.

“Atta girl,” he said softly. “You’re so perfect when you cum for me, love”

You were breathless and your mind was in a haze. You felt Price scale up your body and place his wet mustache against your cheek, planting a gentle kiss on it. You faintly heard him praise you, how good you did for him, how perfect you were.

“Look at me, darling,” he said as his hand grasped your jaw and turned your face to look at him, your eyes fluttered open and gazed at his with blown, dazed pupils.

“Will you give me another one, baby? You gonna let me fuck you once more?”

You nodded drunkenly and exhausted, “Y-yes… fuck me, John”

He smiled at you kindly, stroking your face with his hand and whispering “you’re so good for me, sweet girl”

He reached down to pump his painfully hard cock with the hand that was coated in your slick, letting out a soft moan, and aligned the tip at your entrance. His body weighed on yours, the two of you perfectly snug against each other. Your hands rested on the sides of your head on the bed and your legs were spread open for him, his body nestled between them. Slowly, he pushed his thick length into you, splitting you open. Your mouth fell open with a slow moan emerging from you. He moaned in unison with you at the feeling of your cunt encapsulating his yearning cock.

His forehead rested against yours, and the hand on your jaw moved to your neck, comfortably resting on it as he bottomed out into you, slowly and steadily. Once he was completely inside you, his pelvis flush against your clit, he stayed still for a moment, feeling how your walls fluttered around his cock.

Then, he began to thrust and gyrate his hips into you, at first slowly and then picking up the pace. You were still high off the first orgasm and your cunt was overstimulated by the new intrusion of Price’s cock. You were in overwhelming pleasure, clenching your cunt with every thrust from Price. Your eyes were locked with his, listening to his soft panting breaths that matched your own. You laid there taking his cock, feeling like you had died and gone to Heaven.

As you regained more of your conscience and strength, your arms rose and rested on his shoulders, wrapping around his neck and holding him close. His free hand grabbed your thigh and wrapped it around him, granting him a deeper angle within you, making you moan as his cock hit that spot inside you once more.

You already felt the second wave washing over you. The feeling of him thrusting his cock inside of you was euphoric. The way his body moved against yours, how his hands held your body so tightly and bruising, the sound of his pants and choked out moans mixed with the sound of skin slapping against skin. This is all you’ve been wanting all this time. You had been waiting for him to fuck you silly since the moment you met him, since you realized how desperate and infatuated you were with him. And now you had him, chasing his release, fucking you perfectly and hungrily. It made your heart race and your ears ring, your skin covered in goosebumps, your stomach tying into a knot as another orgasm built up inside of you.

“I’m close, baby,” he moaned against your lips, hands firmly gripping your hips as he pound against you.

“Cum inside me, John” you begged breathlessly “make me yours, please”

It drove him crazy to hear you beg like this, making him ram his cock into you relentlessly.

“You’re mine, Y/N” he growled “You’re only fuckin’ mine, my perfect girl”

His words and the speed and depth of his fucking made you see white again. Your second orgasm hit you like a truck as you clenched around his cock firmly, moaning against his mouth, legs shaking in his grasp.

The tightness of your pussy made him snap, shooting hot shots of cum into you. He moaned in unison with you, trembling and hips faltering as he flooded your insides.

The two of you came in tandem, holding each other tightly as you came down from your mutual highs. He kept slowly and messily pounding into you, stuffing his cum into you.

“Good girl, Y/N,” he sighed “so full with my cum. My girl takes my cock so well, so good for me.” He said as he peppered kisses over your sweaty face, stroking your hair with the hand that once held your neck.

You hummed at his words “all yours, John, ‘m all yours”. You were breathless and cockdrunk, your limbs going limp on the mattress. He chuckled softly at your words, his cock falling out of you and his fingers reaching down to stuff his escaping cum back into you, making you wince at the sensation.

He got off the bed, heading to the en suite bathroom to clean himself and coming back to wipe in between your legs with a damp wash cloth. You let him take care of you giving him an appreciative hum. He smiled at you as he did so, whispering praises. When he finished you rolled into a comfortable position in the bed, feeling the bed sink as his body came to join yours. He big spooned you, embracing you tightly against him. His hand pet your hair, fingers tucking the loose strands behind your ear. You fell asleep under his touch and he watched you, feeling smitten with you in his arms.

A/N: this word count is fucking CRAZY!!! I’m sorry for the length yall I got carried away. But if you’re here, hope you enjoyed!!!! Love ya <3

P.S. for funsies, look up the meaning of the flowers in the arrangement for extra corniness.

[my-my-my]

I have an idea about working with Aisen. How about Aisen accidentally hurt his s/o, you can choose the situation yourself. And can u do Aizen Hueco Mundo version, please?

Yes of course! Thank you for your kind compliment and for your request! I received similar requests as well, so these will be answered together.

TW: this is SFW but it is very angst heavy! There are descriptions of physical pain.

Word Count: 1917

Read on AO3 here.

Las Noches was perpetually silent. The arrancars remained in their kingdoms most of the time, only meeting with Lord Aizen to convene on strategy and general war preparations. Sometimes you attended these meetings, other times you were doing reconnaissance for him and his soldiers.

Today, you were free. You remembered Lord Aizen telling you it was optional to attend the upcoming meetings, as it wouldn’t concern you. If it were anyone else, they would believe him, as he was an exceptional liar, but for as long as you had been with him, you sensed he wasn’t being truthful.

Lately you wondered why you remained here. Your reconnaissance days seem few and far between, and Lord Aizen had kept you away from several meetings as of late.

It made you feel useless.

It didn’t help that as of late, Lord Aizen was standoffish and cold towards you. To outsiders, his actions towards you were normal, he was cold, callous and calculative to everyone around him. But a small part of you, which grew larger and larger as the days went by, wanted to yell at him that you weren’t like “everyone else.” Your loyalty and devotion were to him, and it hurt you to be treated like a common soldier.

You shared the same bed, but when was the last time he fell asleep next to you?

You shared private quarters with him, yet when was he there with you?

Every day you told yourself that this would pass. Lord Aizen was meticulous in his plans and that this was a necessary step for the larger goal. He would be successful and hopefully… hopefully the frigid attitude would melt away. But as the days continued on, the seed of doubt slowly grew.

You weren’t sure where you were walking towards (or from) in Lord Aizen’s palace. Your mind was in disarray, as you walked through the familiar halls and corridors. Your mind wandered to places outside of Las Noches, to places further past Hueco Mundo. To the warmth of Soul Society, where you enjoyed the field of wildflowers, to the fireworks in the night sky.

While your mind wandered, your body took you along the familiar route to Lord Aizen’s strategy hall. You weren’t sure what drew you here to begin with, a force of habit? A sense of longing?

But before you could dwell on the thought further, your body was hit with agonizing pain. You were being crushed by raw spiritual pressure. You couldn’t make out the voices or the sensations as your body convulsed in pain. Your mind wouldn’t stop racing, thoughts swirling with memories of times long forgotten. The pressure continued, and you felt as if your mind was disconnected from your body. You became acutely aware of the dress Lord Aizen had designed for you, clinging to you painfully. Your body continued to sear with pain, the intensity becoming too much, as if it would break your bones. The pain continued to the point where you felt disoriented, where you began to stumble forward. You thought you saw someone kneeling with blue, and someone else standing, but before you could register the figures, an intense wave of nausea hit you.

You wanted to say something, as your mind processed that it was Lord Aizen and Grimmjow that you were seeing, but as soon as you opened your mouth, your body lurched as vomit and saliva dribbled from your lips, before you collapsed into darkness.

Your body felt incredibly weak, pulverized almost, yet confusion ran through you as you couldn’t recognize the room you were in. The dress you were wearing was gone, instead it was your nightwear instead. You tried to sit up, but tears pricked your eyes as you struggled. Your body remained in pain, and everything hurt.

A familiar hand placed itself on your forehead. Something was said, but your ears were still ringing, as tears continued to pour down your face. Then, the same hand that was on your forehead, emitted a faint, light green glow, and you began to feel numb, the pain slowly dissipating.

You opened your eyes to see Lord Aizen watching you, as he placed his hand over your body. Exhaustion hit your body as his kaido spell worked itself all over you. His eyebrows were furrowed, but his eyes remained distant.

His voice still sounded muffled and distorted to you, but you could make out that he wanted you to lift your arms, to which you complied. The pain was decreasing overall as his hands ran over your body several times.

“I’m sorry, Lord Aizen.” You sobbed. You weren’t even sure what you were apologizing for, but you wanted him to say something to you, something directly to you, about you and him – not for this goal of his, not for his palace, not for his soldiers, but you.

But there was no response from him as he continued healing your body.

Your heavy breathing filled the otherwise silent room. Lord Aizen meticulously inspected your body for any other injuries, as his kaido spell continued to work over you, until it dissipated into thin air. You closed your eyes, flexing every finger and toe to ensure that they were able to move, when you felt a large hand encompass your own. Your eyes shot open as you stared at Lord Aizen, who remained silent, but gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

His face was unreadable, but his hand was warm as his fingers interlocked with yours. It was then you looked around the room. This was nothing like your private quarters in Las Noches.

“Where are we, Lord Aizen?” You struggled to ask. Your mouth was incredibly dry.

“In the realm of the living.” He curtly responded, watching your reaction.

You sighed, somewhat in relief, but also of sadness.

“I suppose I’m of no use to you now if I’m here.” You murmured, looking at the way his hand engulfed your own.

The room remained silent as tears pricked your eyes again. Your worst fear was coming true, and your heart felt like it was being squeezed to oblivion.

“You’ve performed your duty well. There’s nothing more to ask of you.” Lord Aizen said, letting go of your hand and cupping your face. He was lying to you again. You saw a brief flash of remorse in his brown eyes, but what you were seeing now was a vacant man.

“You’re lying.” You harshly whispered, surprising yourself with how angry you sounded.

Lord Aizen momentarily looked shocked, but his vacant stare reappeared. “It’s not safe for you in Las Noches anymore.” He calmly explained, rubbing the tears away from your eyes. His hand was incredibly warm to your cool skin, but his words rang empty in your heart.

But you were too tired to argue with him, too exhausted to care anymore.

“The captains and humans are approaching Las Noches soon.” Lord Aizen remarked, “and I will be leaving to Karakura Town.”

You nodded into his palm, knowing it was a waste of time to argue why you should be fighting alongside with him. Lord Aizen was particular about his plans, and as hurt as you were, both physically and mentally, you were in no shape to aid him.

Lord Aizen let go of your face and the two of you held hands, cherishing the silence.

“What is this place though, Lord Aizen?” You asked, as you slowly took in the space. It was beautifully decorated, but nothing like Las Noches at all. It seemed warm, bright and inviting.

“Your - our home. I suppose.” He admitted, as he began to help you out of the bed. He held your hand and guided you to the window, where you were greeted with a breathtaking view, rolling hills and wildflowers, and to the distance, a body of water.

You gasped, taking in the scenery, “this is beautiful, Lord Aizen, thank you!” You smiled at him, as you took in the air, view and sounds. It felt real, the sun hitting your skin, the faint perfume of the flowers.

“There’s a town nearby, who is in need of a florist.” He explained, watching your reaction. “These flowers are yours alone, as is this home and everything inside it. There’s something else I want to show you.”

Lord Aizen guided you outside, past the field to a lone, singular, yet incredible wisteria tree. The tree was adorned by thousands of lilac blossoms that gently danced in the breeze. “This is imbued with some of my reiatsu,” Lord Aizen explained, as he placed the palm of his hand on the tree’s trunk. “My presence will always be with you here.”

It was then it dawned on you…

This was a goodbye.

Tears welled in your eyes again, as your heart shattered. “You’ll come back once this is over?” You asked as tears continued to pour.

Lord Aizen didn’t say anything but embrace you gently. You cried into his chest as you tried to remember everything about him, to the firmness of his chest, to the warmth of his embrace. He tilted your head up and placed a gentle kiss on your lips, then kissed your eyelids and forehead.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you stood under the wisteria tree, but eventually he took you back home. Night began to fall, and he quietly prepared you dinner, ensuring that there were nutrients to nourish your healing body. The two of you spent the remainder in each other’s arms and quietly reminiscing. And it was the first time, in what you felt was an eternity, of sharing a bed with him. Your body fell asleep quickly in his arms, as you were lulled to sleep by his heartbeat.

But by morning he was gone.

“He’ll come back, I know he will.” You said aloud, as you began to prepare yourself for the day.

But deep in your heart, you knew… that may have been the last time you would see him.

Several years had passed since the day you were brought here. Every day you would look out the window, expecting Lord Aizen to come through the fields, but no one was coming. Your heart couldn’t bear it, so you kept yourself distracted by growing your florist shop and business. While you never left the home he built you, you never set foot in near the wisteria tree.

Yet now you were here, walking towards it. You noticed a small, wooden bench underneath and sat down under the heavy blossoms, as petals danced in the wind. Shock ran through you, as you felt it – you felt him. You turned around and faced the tree, placing your hand on the trunk. His familiar spirit lingered all around you, as if he was there himself, the branches swayed a bit harder, as if they acknowledged his presence too. It was then you knew, he was somehow watching you, as you quietly began to tell him about what had transpired since the day he left.

In Muken, Aizen became acutely aware of his growing reiatsu, and the far reaches it had beyond the confines of his prison, Soul Society and beyond. Every day, he would sense where you were in a world without him.

It was then he felt you near the wisteria tree had placed. Under his seals, coverings and bindings, Aizen smiled to himself as the gentleness of your spirit enveloped him, filling him with a sense of peace.

I hope you enjoy this anon! Thank you for reading!!

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

Le Petit Mort

Summary: That period comfort fic.

Pairing: Lestat de Lioncourt x human!afab!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Content Warnings: Period Blood Flavoured Porn 18+!, Soft!Lestat, A Tiny Bit Angsty, Oral (F Receiving), Period Blood :), Comfort, A Little Somnophilia, A Surprising Amount Of Lestat's Musings About Human Biology

A/N: I just want to crawl into his ribcage and wrap myself around his heart.

No pressure tags: @notgilderoylockhart @queer-crusader @blueberrypancakesworld @theprettiesthead @midnight-mess

And it′s easy done

Our little remedy

And the reason comes on the common tongue of your loving me

- Moment's Silence By Hozier

Eventually, at the point where the latest hours of the night exchanged a brief shake of hands with those of the early morning, the city quieted down. Lamp-lit streets gradually guided fewer creatures of the night, or those who believed to be such, back home, and the spontaneous bursts of music after someone had swung a bar door open died out just like the plenty of colorful lights illuminating the window frames of the neighborhood; one going out after the other like a tiring sparkle of fireflies.

Lestat watched the city quarter slowly slip into a brief slumber, knowing that it would only take a mere handful of hours for the bustling on the streets to start anew, hungry bodies eager to fill themselves with hot beverages and takeaway sandwiches to soak up what was left from the night before. Daytime activities not meant to be entertained by him, however, much more so by you when you’d wake with him already gone, hiding away from the sunlight you were to let yourself bask in with every little stroll of yours to pick up flowers or enjoy some ice cream on the pier whilst he slept to pass the hours between being with and without you again. The pleasantries of being human.

With time, he’d forgotten most about it, had trained and taught himself not to care about the things so far out of his reach but that only lasted until you had come along, crossed his nightly path, slightly yet dangerously enough swaying on a pair of glittery high heels and black mascara running down your face, swept along the soft curve of your cheeks by a wash of heavy tears. Lestat had been out to feed and yet, your appearance that night had evoked a sense of pity inside the rotten pit of his ribcage that had thrown the hunger aside and instead led him to find out what this city had done to you on that particular night.

The undead tried not to dwell on this memory for too long for it wouldn’t bring him anything other than sorrow over something that wasn’t even lost to him yet, quite the contrary, still resting calmly in his embrace.

Exhaling a tender hum, you nuzzled your face against Lestat’s chest, slumbering away soundly whilst he watched over you. The vampire found himself perfectly content with that, having concluded that you couldn’t possibly entertain him at all hours of the night, especially not during the work week. The weekends, however, posed as the sacred frame of time you could actually spend time with one another without any overly negative repercussions. Not so seldomly, he felt a pang of guilt rumble through him for fucking your sleep schedule like that - yet another one of those things the vampire preferred not to sit in longer than necessary.

Shushing the unwelcome musings from his mind, Lestat placed a tender kiss to your hairline, one hand caressing down your back before coming back around your hips again, a hardly noticeable, miniscule tremble making his palm rest just above the waistband of your checkered pajama shorts; he liked them, enjoyed seeing you comfortable.

He had to double-take but it was there, right beneath his fingertips, pointed nails like stained glass barely touching your soft skin, a thrum going through your lower abdomen, a telltale pull inwards not yet strong enough to wake you. If he focused, he was able to feel the muscles tugging, preparing to shed and rid themselves of another months worth of lining and for a moment, he found himself flush with almost childlike wonder and adoration for the human body having well timed mechanisms for everything, be it antibodies to fight against an oncoming cold or an empty womb ready to start the cycle anew.

Sometimes, rarely but not less earnest, he missed it, missed that feeling of an itch scratching at the back of his throat as snow fell outside and he'd warmed himself in front of a fire that burned like vermillion and Amber whilst feeding from a bowl of soup. But then again, the longing withered with the remembrance of coughing his lungs out for weeks, bronchi ablaze with infection and rendered sticky with amounts of mucus that had left him wondering how he hadn’t drowned within himself. Lestat shook the memory with an accompanying, slight shake of his head, fingers still curiously following the pull and tear underneath your skin. It would render painful quickly and he wouldn't want you to wake up with this hurt ripping through your body like that, no, he much rather have you wake up gently and with enough time to take something to help with the discomfort before tucking yourself back in.

The hand that had been resting carefully dipped down, fingers slipping past the elastic easily before they curved and felt tacky wetness; a severe lack of arousal in the current amalgamation but he'd gleefully correct that in time.

A sheen of pinkish red glossed index and middle finger up to the knuckles as he withdrew again and he eyed it for a moment as you softly stirred in his embrace, you wouldn't wake just now, only a little turbulence that ebbed away quickly.

There was no second thought as Lestat raised his hand just enough to gingerly pop both fingers into his mouth to suck them clean. The traces of fresh blood were hardly even there and yet they gave him a brief head rush, fangs pushing through out of sheer instinct and the aftertaste leaving him craving more.

He sucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, dragging every last bit from between his taste buds as he pondered briefly and figured that you wouldn't mind as he slowly shimmy away from you just the tiniest little bit, enough to crouch down, shoulder against the mattress and fingers pulling at your shorts until they hung loose around your thighs. Lestat had to remind himself not to bite…only taste. There was no need for any harm in what he was wanting to do, tongue darting out to lap at you gently to pull from a source that came without violence and again, it egged him into a frenzy as the slightest taste of your blood swept into his mouth.

He hummed into you, palms splayed at your lower back and you groaned in return, subconscious eventually catching up to the careful ministrations.

“Huh?” Your voice low and sleep-drunk as your eyes fluttered open and dropped down immediately.

With Lestat's broad hands warm against your back, the dull sensation of pressure from within didn't come to you immediately, the battling pleasure so kindly donated by your lover spreading much more intense.

“Your bleedin’, ma belle.” Lestat mouthed against your throbbing cunt before pulling away just enough to look up at you, chin glazed with traces of red and fangs prodding against a glistening bottom lip.

If you hadn't been comfortable resting on your bed, you'd have probably just toppled over because the view from above rendered your knees weak in a heartbeat.

“Oh.” It trickled from your mouth, entirely content with what was happening and just in time before the air got knocked from your lungs as Lestat leaned back in, the width of his tongue snaking through soaked labia and eventually pushing inside, gently stretching you around the taut and nimble muscle.

Your fingers found his head, taking a fistful of honey-blonde curls to pull him flush against you as he coaxed a wash of little noises to feather from your lips and into the bedroom.

“You're impossible.” The words came breathless and slightly hoarse as the bridge of your lover's nose nudged against your swollen clit, flushed flesh pressing dangerously close to predatory jaws.

Lestat laughed into you, the vibration nearly sending you flying past the threshold already but you held back, kept tethering on the edge as he fed from you; each and every clench and throb of your cunt easing the growing discomfort whilst pulling the fresh red from you.

If it had been up to Lestat, he could've done it all night, for hours until the sun would come up, however, he was still attentively listening to your body and the way it reacted around him; tongue fucking into you, curling and curving against your insides. He felt how your muscles grew tighter, pressure growing and ready to snap in the very next moment.

He wanted you to let loose, to taste you coming all over his mouth and chin as your blood rendered sweet with the rush of release; a special delicacy. And for a few strokes of his tongue, he pressed in even further, nose rubbing against your sensitive clit. Lestat could feel the electricity jolting through your body, you practically vibrated above him, thighs twitching before the firework of blissed out sensations got set into motion.

A muffled Fuck got lost in fabric and feathers as you shoved your face into a thick pillow, the trembling if your body outside of your control as the contractions flushed any sort of pain right out of you and Lestat lapped at you like a feral animal, immediate overstimulation making you writh as he held you in place until he deemed himself sated.

He pulled away at last, the wet sound emanating from amidst your thighs making your face flush with heat.

“You French pervert.” You groan out halfway laughing.

“Je t'aime, aussi.”, Lestat looked up at you, grinning widely with his cheek pressed against your skin, “I reckon you get something to ease the pain, love.”

“But I have, don't I?” You smiled back, chest swelling with warmth and an overflowing gush of love.

“You sure do, but I was thinking about something that would actually let you sleep, no?”

[withthewindinherfootsteps]

I sometimes see the opinion that MXTX took the clichéd tropes she'd critiqued in Scum Villain, and played them straight in MDZS. But though a lot of them appear in MDZS, I'd argue that none are actually played straight at all!

The main point of MDZS's tropes is subversion. Yes, WWX has a 'tragic backstory', even an arguably overused one (orphaned by his parents at a young age, forced to live on the streets with nobody to rely on, etc) – but how things differ in how it's used. Tragic backstories are normally used to build sympathy for a character, to make us care and get invested in them. But... we're never actually shown any of those street days, we're never shown and never dwell upon how much he suffered during them. They're only really mentioned in passing and whenever dogs come up! If the goal was to make us feel bad for WWX, this would be very ineffective writing. But what's actually important here isn't that WWX went through tragedies – it's how he doesn't let the tragedies he went through define him. He doesn't dwell on them, the narrative doesn't dwell on them, it's never used to earn sympathy points... because what defines WWX is his choices and how he chooses to act, not a backstory completely out of his control. What gets us invested in him is his personality and the character writing of MXTX, not tragic events used as a substitute for identity.

And this trope treatment fits extremely well with WWX's personality itself – he's someone who 'forgets the pain as soon as the wound has healed'*, but also who actively chooses to focus on the present because you can't change the past; someone who holds the belief that 'gains and losses [should] remain uncommented on' when choosing what to do.

The use of the tragic backstory isn't the only thing that's subverted, either – the other main thing is the 'blackening' of the protagonist, and its impact on the protagonist's fall. After being thrown into the Burial Mounds, on a surface level it does seem like this blackening has occurred: the first thing we see when he returns is his gruesome torture of the Wen cultivators; he's 'forsaken' traditional cultivation in favour of an 'evil but more powerful' path; and frankly, Sunshot-era WWX is terrifying. But MDZS is not a blackening story, and so the events of the Burial Mounds aren't used as a catalyst for that purpose. Though it's true that WWX's not entirely the same person he was before (because how could be be?), underneath it all, his morals, worldview and core** stay the same. Though gruesome, his revenge is directed towards the ones who wronged him, not those past that and certainly not the entire world. His experience in the Burial Mounds doesn't lead to him being some evil, blackened overlord... like everyone says he is at the start! That's subverted, because again, WWX's values and choices are more important to the story than genre conventions.

But the most crucial thing? What leads to WWX's downfall isn't any blackening! It isn't any vengeance or morally dubious actions***– he was praised for those things during the Sunshot Campaign! No, what leads to his downfall is something completely unrelated to that, something which would've disappeared had the trope been played straight. It's him doing what's right by defending the Wens, it's him following his moral code when it opposes the world's, it's him standing up to the injustice of others – not others standing up to the injustice of him. That's the subversion here.

(Also, once again, the fall of Lotus Pier, the Burial Mound, etc, aren't used for sympathy points – and if it was relevant, they wouldn't have been used to excuse any actions, either. Using tragic events as an excuse for doing bad things is critiqued many times in MDZS, through characters like Xue Yang and Jin Guangyao. And that's not exactly a trope subversion, but it is a critique of badly handled 'excuses'.)

These are by no means all the tropes MDZS subverts – the nature of guidao vs the usual nature of modao being another very major one – but they're the main ones that feature in Scum Villain.

So, though at first glance MDZS seems to play the tropes MXTX critiqued there straighter, it's not a simple case of using them as cliches, and we see that by how they're used to impact the narrative, and how that differs from what they're traditionally used for. MDZS doesn't fall back into clichés Scum Villain satirised – it's the subversion to Scum Villain's exploration and critique.

--

*Which I know is generally used negatively, to describe someone not learning a lesson from a punishment, but it really describes WWX in general, too. He doesn't dwell on that pain, he does his best to move on from it.

**...heh

***And, because it's often debated – whatever the morality/culpability of Nightless City is doesn't even matter! The events happened at a pledge conference against him that was already taking place. WWX's actions there didn't make people want to kill him because that was explicitly happening beforehand.

[meazalykov]

my love is back home

sydney lohmann x actress!reader

summary: after being away to film movies and do press tours, you know where home is

love, closed distance

it’s been months since you’ve last seen sydney. 

between her football schedule and your intense filming commitments in the united states, the days felt like they blurred into one long stretch of distance.

the time zone differences, the constant travel, the late-night calls that sometimes ended in one of you falling asleep mid-conversation—it was all part of the routine now. 

but even with all of that, you wouldn’t change a thing. both of you had dreams to chase, careers that demanded your full attention, and somehow, you’d made it work. 

you remember how it all started, how you met sydney through laura—your mutual friend. laura had always teased that sydney was the perfect mix of soft and strong, and at the time, you didn’t think much of it. but when you finally met her, everything clicked. 

you admired her instantly—her dedication to football, her quiet confidence, the silliness in her personality, and the way she could make you feel at ease even on the most chaotic days. 

your schedules were never easy, but there was something about sydney that made all the juggling worth it. 

now, sitting in the stadium in paris, your heart beats a little faster just thinking about her. sydney and the german national team had made it all the way to the bronze medal match at the olympics, and here you are, doing everything you can to surprise her. 

filming had wrapped up just a couple of days ago in los angeles, and the moment you could, you were on a flight back to europe. you thought about heading straight home to munich, where the two of you share a home, but something pulled you toward paris. 

this moment was too big, too important to miss. 

the atmosphere in the stadium is electric, fans from all over the world– especially spanish and german fans– buzzing with excitement, but you’re trying your best to stay lowkey. with a cap pulled low over your face and sunglasses obscuring your features, you hope that most people will overlook you. 

but, of course, they don’t. whispers of your name float around you, people nudging each other, pointing in your direction. some even snap a few photos discreetly. you do your best to smile politely but avoid drawing attention.

after all, this moment isn’t about you—it’s about sydney and everything she’s worked so hard to achieve.

you’ve positioned yourself with sydney’s family, sharing nervous smiles and quiet conversations about the match. her parents are beaming with pride, and it warms your heart to be here with them, to share in this special moment. they’re sweet people.

sydney introduced you to them around two years ago, not long after the both of you started dating. her mother recognized you from a movie she loved years ago so she was happy to meet you. the lohmann parents treat you as one of their own, and are happy to see you back.

when the match starts, you’re on the edge of your seat, watching every move, every pass, your eyes glued to the pitch. 

then, when sydney comes on, you can’t help yourself—you cheer loudly, her name slipping from your lips before you can even think about it.

your voice carries over the noise of the crowd, and for a split second, you see her pause on the field. her head turns slightly, like she’s trying to figure out if she really heard what she thinks she did, but then she refocuses, too locked into the game to dwell on it.

you laugh to yourself, leaning back in your seat, your heart swelling with pride. she’s always so focused, so driven, and it’s one of the many things you love about her. 

you know she’d never let anything—especially the thought of you possibly being in the stands—distract her from the task at hand. the match is tense, both teams fighting tooth and nail for that bronze medal, but when spain misses a crucial penalty, the entire stadium erupts in cheers for germany. 

you jump up from your seat, clapping and shouting, adrenaline rushing through you as the final whistle blows.

sydney and her teammates are celebrating on the field, hugging, laughing, some even shedding a few tears of joy. your heart feels like it might burst with how happy you are for her. she’s worked so hard for this moment, and to see her here, to know that she’s walking away with a medal—it’s everything. 

you watch her from a distance as she runs toward her teammates and the coaching staff, but it’s not long before she starts making her way toward her family. you’re standing with them, tucked behind her parents, when her eyes scan the crowd and finally land on you. 

the second she sees you, her face lights up in disbelief. yes, you’re wearing sunglasses and a brown dodgers hat, but your girlfriend recognizes your silhouette and casual outfits. 

her smile grows impossibly wide, and before you know it, she’s running toward you, her eyes filled with nothing but joy.

“y/n?!” she gasps, her voice full of surprise and excitement as she pulls you into a tight hug, lifting you off the ground just a little since she is still on the grass. 

“you’re here?”

you laugh, wrapping your arms around her neck and holding her close. 

“of course i’m here. i wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“i can’t believe it,” she whispers, burying her face in your shoulder for a moment before pulling back just enough to look at you. 

“how long have you been here? why didn’t you tell me?”

“i wanted it to be a surprise,” you grin, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. 

“besides, this is your moment. i didn’t want to steal the spotlight.”

sydney shakes her head, her smile softening as she holds you a little tighter. “you could never steal the spotlight, y/n.”

without another word, she presses her lips to yours, right there in front of everyone—her family, her teammates, the cameras, the fans. none of it matters in this moment. 

all that matters is that you’re here, and she’s home again, in your arms. you feel her relax against you, her fingers threading through your hair as she deepens the kiss, and you can’t help but smile into it. when she finally pulls back, her eyes are bright with tears she’s trying to hold back.

“you’re finally home,” she murmurs, her forehead resting against yours. “i’ve missed you so much.”

“i’ve missed you too,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “and i’m home now. no more long shoots, no more late-night calls from different time zones… it’s just us, at least for a little while.”

she lets out a soft laugh, pulling you back into another hug. “i don’t care if it’s just for a little while. i’ll take whatever time i can get with you.”

the two of you stand there for a moment, wrapped up in each other, oblivious to the world around you. it feels like a weight has been lifted off your chest now that you’re finally back together. 

you’re home—not just in the sense of being back in europe, but in the sense that sydney is your home. wherever she is, that’s where you belong.

“so,” she starts, pulling back just slightly to look at you again, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. 

“how did filming go? how’s the big movie?”

“it went well,” you shrug, feeling the excitement of the past few months starting to settle in. 

“it was a lot of work, but it’s done. we wrapped a few days ago.”

“and now you’re back to me,” she grins, leaning in to kiss you again, softer this time, more tender. “i can’t believe you came all this way just to see me play.”

“of course i did,” you say, your voice full of affection. 

“you deserve this, syd. you deserve everything. i’m so proud of you.”

her smile widens, and she pulls you in close again, her arms wrapped around your waist. “and i’m so proud of you too. my superstar girlfriend.”

you laugh, shaking your head. “please, you’re the superstar here. you just won a bronze medal!”

“yeah,” she laughs, her cheeks flushing slightly. “i did, didn’t i?”

“you did,” you smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “and you deserve it. you deserve the world.”

as sydney greets her family and the celebration continues around you, you find yourself feeling more at peace than you have in months. 

being with sydney, standing beside her in this moment—it feels right. you’ll always find your way back to her. because at the end of the day, she’s your home. and nothing will ever change that.

masterlist

[famousstatesmanbearroad]

DISTRACTION PART 2 (WWE CODY RHODES)

•Summary: He’s allowed you in his head, allowed you to play mind games, allowed you to make him vulnerable, causing his match against your cousin at WrestleMania 39. Months later and he finally earns another match, just for you to start the distraction all over again, dwelling on the pass

• Parings: Cody Rhodes X Samoan fem reader

Warnings - mentions of sex, praise kink, choking kink, moaning kink, fingering, grinding of some sorts (over the clothes), Dirty Talk, 18+ only (Minors DNI), (READ AT YOUR OWN RISK)

Word count: 5k

The day before the WrestleMania kickoff show was declared a pre-kickoff for everyone in WWE as Paul Levesque and Stephanie McMahon hosted their first annual pre-kickoff dinner party to celebrate the road to WrestleMania. You sat in your hotel room, applying the pieces of jewelry that you placed out to put on.

Roman asked you to accompany him to this dinner party. Though you were surprised, he even asked you. After last week with your interaction with Cody, Roman made it clear how pissed he was with you.

Cody, that man has not left your mind. You haven't seen him since, other than watching him on TV when he appeared on Monday's show.

You would be crazy if some of you thought about seeing him, but you did. You had no idea why, however.

There wasn't any point in being near the man; he wasn't completing this WrestleMania with Roman anymore. You won't have to worry about being a distraction.

But you couldn't help but think about the past. You wished you could forget what happened between the two of you.

But the way he touched you, the way you moaned for him, the way he made you feel, how could you not forget that!?

You've had sex before, but never in the way you did with Cody. You held in for so long just to focus on your plan, give in, and throw yourself at him the minute he became vulnerable. You, too, were vulnerable.

And you couldn't help but bite your lip as you thought about that night. The way he talked to you, it made you realize how much of a praise kink you have, how much you get turned on by how dirty he can speak to you, all while fucking you.

"We're on a tight schedule. Are you almost ready?" Roman asked as he exited your hotel bathroom, adjusting his tie.

You cleared your throat, looking down as you hid the flustered from your face. "Yeah, I'm ready."

You took tiny breaths before sitting up, turning to Roman as he grabbed his keys before looking at you. "How do I look?" Roman asked, adjusting his top suit. You nodded in approval. "Like you just got inducted into the hall of fame."

Roman smirks, nodding at your comment. He then got serious. "Listen, a lot of our family will be there, some we haven't spoken to in a while, that we haven't been on good terms with."

You knew who Roman was talking about, Jey. The last time you saw Jey in person was when he and Cody were undisputed tag champs. You didn't even see him at the Royal Rumble. But you miss Jey. He was someone who allowed you to express your feelings whenever you were upset. And despite how malicious Jimmy acted towards him, they were twins; they missed each other.

"Just say Jey's name, Roman; you're talking about him."

Roman sighed. "Look, I can't stop you from talking to him; that's your brother, " he said. But promise me he's not going to get into your head."

You scoffed. "How would Jey get in my head?" You asked him. Roman was quiet for a moment.

Roman knew that Jey was the number one person who stood with you when you left Bloodline. Jey thinks you deserve better than doing what Roman tells you to do. The last thing he needs is someone convincing you to do such a thing. Because despite the plans he makes, you plot, despite him telling you what to do, you're his family. He's been betrayed by his family before. He doesn't want to happen, let alone from you.

"Just remember what I said," he said. It was now your turn to remain quiet as he turned to your side, pulling his arm out for you to wrap around. You took it in silence as you walked out of your room.

-

The dinner party was elegant. Silent music played in the background as chatters filled the room. The moment you and Roman walked into the room, you were greeted by many people—a hall of framers and workers who worked alongside Paul in the headquarters. Whenever Roman enters a room, heads turn, and people from every corner greet people. All you can do is say hi and smile as people approach him.

However, you notice his smile, which he had as people greeted him, disappear as he stared into the distance. You looked in the direction he was staring at, and all two of you saw two figures, one you hoped you wouldn't see, although you knew you would.

Jey. He stood from afar with a drink in his hand, laughing at whatever joke he had told himself. His eyes drifted into your and Roman's direction, matching the same faded-off smile as Roman's. Although he was looking at you and you only. All Jey wanted, although his big brother, was his little sister. You looked beautiful, he thought. All he wanted was to talk to you, ask how things were, and tell you he's still your brother.

Then they were Cody, who you sucked the air out of the minute his eyes laid on you. You looked absolutely stunning, he thought. Your dress fits perfectly on your body. It made him frustrated with how beautiful you look. A part of him wanted to come up to you and tell you how beautiful you looked. The other part wanted to take you to one of the bathrooms and undress you out of that incredibly sexy dress.

Roman eyes narrowed at the two men. He feared Jey's words, but he also feared Cody's actions. He had no clue what was going on between you and Cody; after seeing how close he was to you a couple of days ago, it absolutely made Roman boil. Yes, Roman's is your cousin. But the two of you were more siblings than cousins. And seeing a man that he truly despises be incredibly close to you was something he never wanted to happen again. And he knew a part of it was his fault.

Roman was the one who told you to distract Cody and do whatever it takes. Now he questions what exactly happened to you. It was like he accidentally set you up as bait.

You let out a shaky sigh as you looked at Roman. "I'm going to go grab me a drink, " you said as you walked off, not allowing Roman to speak.

You knew that tonight was going to be a long night. And you knew that avoiding Cody as much as possible would probably help. But it is impossible, especially when you are in the same room.

You finally grabbed a drink, sipped it, and breathed to calm down. You looked back to see Roman conversing with Dwayne and other people you did not know their names.

From a distance, Jey was debating whether he should approach you. He wasn't sure if you would want to talk to him. But he gained the strength anyway, looking over at Cody, who watched you. "Aye uce, let me go to my sis real quick."

Cody looked at him. A hint of surprise formed in his face, but he nodded anyway. He wasn't sure how your conversation with Jey would turn out.

Jey hesitated for a moment, then walked towards you. Your back was turned as you were unaware of Jey's presence getting closer. That wasn't until you heard his voice.

"Y/N."

You turned around, seeing your brother in front of you. You glanced over at Roman, who hadn't seen you two. You then looked back at him.

You wanted nothing more than to hug your Jey and tell him how much you missed him, but you kept your distance, giving him a small smile. "Hi."

Jey smiled back. "How have you been, little sis?" he asked. He was glad you were talking to him.

"I've been better, big bro." You replied as your smile grew. "I miss you."

Hearing you say that made Jey happy. He would be lying if a small part of him thought you hated him for leaving the bloodline. If only he knew that was far from the truth. Deep down, you admire him for doing that.

"I miss you too." He said. Your eyes showed a hint of happiness hearing that from him. Your eyes then drifted to the tie that lay on his chest, causing you to suck your teeth as you placed your drink down. "I see things haven't changed." You say fixing his tie correctly. Jey couldn't help but laugh. "I've been trying to fix it; you know I hate ties."

"Well, you could have worn a bow." You tell him. Jey shakes his head. "I look ridiculous in those."

"No, you do not, Jey," you said, remaining silent momentarily. "Okay, maybe a little."

"Wow!" Jey was taken aback as he looked down at you. You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, which caused him to laugh back.

However, your eyes wander towards Roman, whose eyes are now on you two, causing you to stop laughing. Jey realizes this, looking over at Roman before looking at you. "He's controlling you, Y/N."

"Jey-"

"Y/N, he uses you. The only reason he still has you around is because you've helped keep that championship belt he got." Jey tells her. You shook your head. "That's not true." You tell him and yourself.

Jey frowns as you deny his words. You now knew what Roman meant by Jey getting in your head. Deep down, you question whether Jey was right.

However, you still deny it. "Look, I've been there for Roman through everything. He's family. And Families don't betray each other."

Jey scrunch his eyebrows together as you said that. "What's that supposed to mean?" You looked at him as you realized what you had said, seeing the effect that it had on him. "Jey- it's not like that,"

"Nah, I get it," Jey spoke, shaking his head. "I betrayed Roman. I turned my back on my own family; I decided to be selfish. It's not like Roman selfishly treated all of us like crap whenever our job isn't done."

"Jey-"

"He would have done the same if he knew about you and Cody,"

You immediately froze as you looked at your brother. Jey still had no clue what had happened between the two of you, but he knew something had happened; otherwise, Cody's reactions to what he had seen wouldn't have been how they had been.

"I don't know what you're talking about," You choked out as you looked away from Jey.

"Yes, I do," Jey said. "I don't know what it is, nor is it none of my business, but Roman is gonna find out what it is, and he's gonna be furious."

"There's nothing going on between Cody and me, okay?" You snapped at your brother out of frustration. "For once, can't you understand that Roman isn't doing any using and isn't controlling me!?"

Jey noticed your body language and tone of voice; it was your reaction to him mentioning Cody. And as much as you really wanted to talk to your brother right now, you tried to get away and calm down.

"Aye, sis? " a voice said, bringing your and Jey's attention to Jimmy, the eldest sibling.

Yours and Jimmy's relationship was different from yours and Jey's. You and Jimmy were close despite what happened with your other brothers. But you couldn't talk to him about how you were feeling occasionally. You couldn't even do that with Jey because of how distant you had gotten.

You didn't want to mean it, but you couldn't help but think that Jimmy had his head up Roman's ass so far that everything you did felt, and you did want to tell Jimmy, but you couldn't because of Roman.

"Everything's good?" Jimmy asked you as his eyes heavily narrowed at Jey. Jey and Jimmy made eye contact as Jimmy got closer to the two of you. More Jey than you.

You took a step back. "I'm fine," you said, feeling overwhelmed by what was happening. I'm going to go use the bathroom."

You didn't even give Jey a chance to react before you were off into the bathroom. He looked over in your direction, watching you walk as he sighed. All he wanted was a civil conversation with his sister.

And that couldn't happen.

-

The index finger of Cody's hand gently slipped across the rim of his glass cup as he stared down at his drink. He sat down by the bar by himself, examining his surroundings and the party that was currently going on.

A few people have approached him, making small talk, but most of the time, he was thinking.

He was thinking about a lot of things. His head was clouded. From his decision about WrestleMania to seeing you walking in, Cody knew that his time was limited from exploding.

He noticed the glances from Roman the moment he walked in. Though, Roman kept his distance. Cody wasn't stupid; he knew Roman was more cautious towards him after seeing how incredibly close he was with you. And as much as he needed to stay away from you, a part of him didn't mind pissing Roman off.

But it's you. It wasn't any random woman. He needed to stay far away from you for his sanity. You were all he could think about. It was affecting him badly.

Cody glances at you and Jey as you are in his head again. Fuck, you looked breathtaking in that dress. He knew you knew you looked good, but my god, Cody felt himself wanting to undress you with his own eyes.

He couldn't help but notice your expression—you looked overwhelmed. Your brothers were now standing in front of each other.

Cody knew everything that went down between Jimmy and Jey. The whole world knew what happened between the two. But Cody was the one who took Jey when Jey needed someone the most. And he knew you and Jey's relationship was a bit rocky, which allowed Cody to know precisely what you were feeling.

His eyes followed you as you walked into the bathroom, leaving the two brothers to themselves. His eyes stared at that door. He had a crazy debate about going into it, though it was a girl's bathroom, and he knew how stupid that would be for himself.

"Hey, Cody." Cody turned his head as he saw a figure standing in front of him, causing him to be taken aback a bit.

Dwayne was the last person Cody expected to approach him. His smile indicated that he meant no harm, allowing Cody to smile back.

"Hey, Dwayne," Cody said as Dwayne sat beside him. Dwayne grabbed the bartender's attention as he ordered a drink. Once receiving it, he looked back at Cody. "How you doing."

"Well," Cody said, forcing a small smile. "Just taking one step at a time." He said.

"Well, that's something," Dwayne said, chuckling a bit as he took a sip. Cody let one out, too, and he drank from his cup.

The conversation had already been 20 seconds, and it was already awkward. It wasn't like Cody hated Dwayne. Despite being related to someone he despised, Dwayne was one of his few role models.

But family is family. Deep down, Cody knew that Dwayne would rather defend his cousin than someone who looked up to him. That's how their whole family works.

"Listen, I just want to talk to you about WrestleMania," Dwayne started the conversation. Cody held his hand up. There's nothing really to talk about; I made my decision."

Dwayne nodded. However, the two of them knew that this was not true. Cody didn't want to talk about it, especially to the man who was facing Roman instead of him. "I just want to know if we're good," Dwayne said. "You hear the fans all over social media saying they want you, and I don't want anyone coming in the way and confusing your decision."

Cody took in what Dwayne said. Yes, in less than 24 hours, Cody has been trending all over social media. #wewantcody even took him by surprise. His entire career, he's been in the mid-card. He's never gotten this much notice.

But Dwayne's mention made Cody think a certain way. If Dwayne had only said so, his decision would have stayed the same.

"I made the decision; I can't go back on my word, can I?" Cody said, looking at Dwayne. Dwayne stared at Cody back before nodding, forming a smile on his face. "It wouldn't make sense if you did," Dwayne said. He then got up from his seat. "I'm glad you and I are on the same page."

Cody nodded, taking a sip from his drink. "Yeah, me too."

Dwayne patted Cody on the shoulder as it looked like he was going to walk off and finally end this dreadful conversation. But suddenly, Dwayne stopped and turned back to him. "Oh, there's something else,"

Dwayne took a step closer to Cody as he leaned in to whisper in his ears. "I need you to stay away from Y/N. Or there will be consequences."

Something in Cody infuriated him as he looked at Dwayne. Dwayne patted his back once again before walking off.

Dwayne walking up to Cody and him mentioning WrestleMania didn't get under his skin. But you?

Cody rubbed his temple as you were now back in your head. Roman was the person who sent you to him. And now he's being told to stay away from you.

He couldn't help but laugh. He knew a thousand times that he should stay away from you. But now, just to piss Roman and Dwayne off, and because he knew eventually that he was going to fail at staying away, it made him not want to at the moment.

Cody's eyes scanned the party, then drifted back towards the bathroom door. You haven't left the bathroom since talking to Jey. And Cody fought with his intrusive thoughts, telling him to stay where he was, but wanting to go into that bathroom so badly.

Suddenly, he stood up from his seat, adjusting his suit as his eyes wandered, ensuring no one was looking in his direction. He cautiously made his way toward the bathroom door, making sure no one was watching. Once making it to the door, his eyes looked around one more time before stepping in.

-

You walked into an empty bathroom stall, straight towards the mirror, and started steadying your breathing. Your conversation with Jey went the way you didn't want it to.

You looked at yourself in the mirror as you replayed your conversation with Jey. From Roman to Cody, all you wanted was a peaceful talk with your brother without the outside drama getting in between, but that couldn't happen.

You stayed in the bathroom for a good minute, standing as you continued to take breaths, not trying to get everything under your skin.

All you wanted to do was leave the party, go back to your hotel, and sleep away the problems in your life. However, you couldn't do that, and reality kicked in when you jumped from getting scared of the door opening.

Unfortunately, your face immediately dropped as you looked at the person who had walked in. Cody.

He stared at you, watching your expression. Followed by a click, indicating that he had locked the bathroom door, you involuntarily gulped, followed by silence. His stares imitated you for some reason. You two were known for having intense eye contact, especially when you were around him to distract him. But for some reason, he made you feel small. You can feel him undressing you with his eyes. If only you knew that was exactly what he wanted to do to you that night.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, your voice soft, almost whispered. Cody watched how you reacted to him. This wasn't the first time he'd seen you like this. But it felt different because there wasn't any distraction, no mind games, and just you two.

Cody walked up to you. You're back leaning against the bathroom table as you look up at him. You were trying to read his facial expression, but it was more of curiosity that you could see. "Are you okay?" He asked, not answering your original question.

However, you nodded, watching Cody, then looked down at your lip. You were unaware that you were biting your lip. He had his hands in his pocket right now, but at the moment, he felt himself clenching his hands hard, desperately stopping himself from bending you over and fucking you so severely.

"You shouldn't be in here, Cody," you tell him. Once again, Cody ignored what you said and asked a question about your statement. "You ever thought about that night, Y/N?"

Your heart dropped hearing what he had said. The night the two of you had sex for the first and only time. You thought about that night a little from time to time. The thought of you touching yourself to Cody crossed your mind, causing you to turn away and have your back facing him.

Cody caught a glimpse of your facial expression before you turned. At that moment, you were probably thinking about that night, something dirty. Cody's head was screaming at him to run to that bathroom stall, forget what came out of his mouth, and never speak about it again.

However, it suddenly got hot in the bathroom as you felt him very close to you, breathing down your neck. His hands secretly hesitated before pulling themselves out of his pocket and onto your waist.

"I thought about that night too many times; it's starting to torture me," Cody whispered in your ear. Your hand grabbed onto the table, clenching on it so hard. It took everything in your power not to lean your head back.

"The thought of touching you, making you moan, you'll be such a good girl."

Cody knew that you had a praise kink; it was something that he found incredibly attractive about. He had a kink to females who had a praise kink.

And because of that, he noticed your head shifted a bit, your eyes fluttered closed, and your lips parted open. Fuck those lips. God blessed you with beautiful lips. If it wasn't your skin or your moans that turned Cody on, it was your lips.

"We can't speak about this, Cody," you spoke. Cody felt himself sighing as he laid his head on your shoulders. Not because you were right, but because he was getting hard knowing they shouldn't be doing this.

And you felt it. It poked, causing you to think nothing but yourself throbbing for him. "Fuck," you let out as you couldn't help yourself from grinding against his clothed hard-on.

Why, all of a sudden, the two of you were folding so quickly? You wondered why Cody made you so needy so quickly.

But it didn't matter because he was the same way as he gripped your waist, pulling you closer to him. He watched you through the mirror that you had forgotten was the. Those pretty faces you were making as you bit your lip, stopping yourself from moaning. God, you looked so beautiful.

Cody couldn't help but grunt, seeing how you were reacting to grinding on him. His pants were highly uncomfortable, and he wanted more to fuck you in this bathroom. But he knew he couldn't. And he wasn't, not tonight in this bathroom, at least.

He turned around, however. Your eyes shot open as you stepped so close to the man, his chest almost touching. You now notice him staring down your lips. "Let me taste them, just this once?" he spoke. You remained quiet as his large hands were placed on your chest. They slowly crept up to your neck as he wrapped them around you.

You let out a small moan, causing his grip to be tighter. "Do not moan. Otherwise, I'm going to cum on myself."

Fuck. Why did he say that? It immediately made you do the opposite as another moan slipped out unintentionally. You didn't care that the man had just walked into the women's bathroom; you wanted him badly.

And hearing you moan once again caused Cody's hard-on to joint, tightening his grip. But his grip around your neck wasn't helping him either. You were getting turned by it. Fuck, praise kink, and now a choking kink, has had he remained himself from fucking you.

Cody leans in and lightly places his lips onto yours. He just wanted to touch your lips, that's all. And you didn't stop him; once you felt his kissing, you immediately kissed him back.

The hand that was around your neck was now wrapped around the back of your neck, as his other hand was on your chest. The kiss was slow, and both of you took in how you two felt.

It wasn't until you and your actions nearly made Cody explode as he groaned in between your kisses that caused the two of you to fight with each other using your tongues.

Your hand tugged on his hair as your other hand pulled him close, and you leaned against the bathroom sink again. His hands now went straight down to your ass, squeezing it as your mouth opened while kissing him. Cody rolled his tongue, swallowing your moan.

Your mind couldn't process the fact Cody put his tongue down your mouth. It wasn't processing because of how good the kiss was. You couldn't help but push him away; however, the two of you couldn't even stare at each other, and you were both out of breath.

But Cody wasn't finished. You felt his hands slightly lifting your dress a bit before he reached the side of your underwear.

You watched him, lips slightly swollen, as his eyes darted down at your dress, pulling your underwear down till you kicked it off your ankles.

It was now in Cody's hand as he stared down at it—a black lace thong. Despite walking into the bathroom, he felt you were doing this on purpose. Oh, to see your legs spread open, having nothing but a lace thong covering your pretty clit of yours. He would have tasted you over the thong. The last time he ate you out, he had to reframe himself from making you cum so quickly. He's given head before to other females. You, the taste of your wet clit was too fucking good.

His breathing was what you notice. His chest was rising heavily as you held your thong in his hand. You bite your lip as you take it from him and shove it in his pocket to give him a souvenir. Then, with risk, a substantial fucking risk, you took his hand and placed it in between your thighs.

He didn't pull his hand back. Instead, he moved his hand upwards, allowing your legs to spread again. Your eyes fluttered shut as your hand immediately held onto Cody's hand. You could feel his fingers playing with your folds, feeling how wet you were.

Oh, my fucking gosh, Cody felt absolutely ruined. The pretty sounds coming out your mouth, the fact you were so wet for him you could hear it. He knew that after tonight, there were going to be consequences for his actions. But right now, he rather sees you cum on his fingers.

"You're so fucking dirty," Cody whispered in your ear. "You like that I'm playing with your pretty pussy in this bathroom where there are so many people out there."

Cody bit down on your ear lobe as you let out a whimper. You then looked up at him as he moaned and grew louder, trying your hardest not to have someone hear. But both you and Cody were making that difficult.

"I love it when you play with my pussy, Cody." You moaned out. "Fuck, I missed this, I missed the way you made me feel."

Cody was going feral right now. His fingers were now inside you as he felt you grinding down on them. What has he gotten himself into?

Your mouth was filthy, and you didn't care. Significantly when Cody sped his pace with his fingers, thrusting them in you faster. You threw your head back as he immediately started kissing your neck.

You can feel Cody grinding on your thigh, trying to find some release. You wanted to return the favor as your hand found his erection, cupping it.

However, you frowned as Cody pulled your hand back as he looked at you. "Not today, baby. Right now, it's about you."

You didn't argue. You couldn't argue as Cody added another finger, finger fucking your clit. You felt your orgasm coming.

All you wanted to do was moan loudly as you felt yourself about cum. But you couldn't. Despite being a party, you knew someone would hear you two.

Cody moaned, however, as you brought your lips to his ears and moaned in them. He felt your legs clenching, your clit clenching around his finger. "Ohhh, I'm close, fuck!"

Cody's finger didn't stop thrusting into you as you reached your climax, cumming on his finger. He watched as your face washed over with bliss, your knuckles turning white as you held on to the table and his shoulders. It was such a beautiful sight to see.

You felt him move his fingers out your clit and watch him look down his finger before raising it to his mouth and getting a taste of your wetness. Cody couldn't help but moan. You taste so sweet, so fucking good. It was impossible that you tasted that so fucking good

Your mouth slightly parted as you let out a small gasp, watching him do something unholy. It turned you on all over again, watching him taste you on his finger.

The two of you tried your hardest to avoid each other. After tonight, you knew it was going to be impossible now.

Last Part | Next Part: TBA

TAGGED LIST

@yolobloggers @reebs-luvs-rhodes-and-wrestling @rickastleybaby

@princessesareforsuckers