#eighty days until the fall
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elkaseltzer · 22 hours ago
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my contribution to Eggplosion!
i worked with @baubles-n-bones , who is so absolutely amazing. check out what they wrote!!
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hurlingdown · 7 months ago
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we need needy pathetic OMEGA ZORO
imagine omega! zoro being horny and cock-hungry 24/7 even if he's not in his heat.
it's fine even if you're not always up to fuck. he'll be quiet and satisfied if you let him fall asleep with your dick stuffed in his mouth like a good boy, nose pressed into your pubes until he gets high and dizzy from the overwhelming pheromones.
that, or let him sit on your lap and cockwarm you while you read a book or do something else, giving him the opportunity to rub his scent glands all over your neck until you're all oily and smell like him. and even if your pants end up getting soaked with the amount of slick he keeps producing just from sitting on you, it's worth it.
oftentimes you'll wake up to him humping you in his sleep, whining and purring needily into your ear with his thighs clamped around one of yours, desperately rutting his naked wet cunt onto you as though trying to imprint his scent into your skin.
on other days though, you might jolt awake to him riding you so hard it almost feels like a fever dream when you blink open your eyes — all eighty five kilos of muscle jumping on your cock, each thrust accompanied by lewd squelching sounds as you realise that this isn't the first orgasm he's chasing.
there's a heavy blush on his cheeks and he glares you down while choking on a whine, calling you a "useless alpha" for not satisfying his omega needs enough last night.
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retroactivebakeries · 2 years ago
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It is almost five centuries ago, and the girl who will one day be a swordswoman is lying in the red-tinged mud. She can't get up���broken bone? severed tendon? She can't tell. She's yet to cultivate her palate for pain. Her enemy towers over her, a cataphract mailed in screaming steel and poisoned light. His warhammer falls, and it is death, forever death, death unconquered and unconquerable.
"No," says a part of her. She is not even seventeen years old. Her body is mangled and broken, wound piled upon wound piled upon wound. A dull kitchen knife is her only weapon, though she lost that in the mud the second her grip faltered. Her enemy is no thing of this earth. And yet—
"No. It is not death, forever death, death unconquered and unconquerable. It is only a hammer, falling. It is only 'an attack.'"
And the girl understood.
~~~
It is the better part of three centuries ago, as best the swordswoman can reckon, and she is beset on all sides by foes. They are not monsters—just mountain bandits, or highland rebels, as one cares to see it. But they outnumber her by dozens, and even an exceptional swordswoman might struggle against but two opponents of lesser skill.
From in front of her, beside her, behind her they advance, striking from every angle with spears and blades and axes. Others fill the air with arrows, sling stones, firepots. It would be effortless, to parry any single blow. It would be impossible, physically impossible, to defend against them all.
"No," says a part of her.
"You are not outnumbered. You do not face 'multiple' foes. It would be impossible to defend against every attack — but there is no 'every' attack. Only one."
"Oh," the swordswoman said. And it was, in fact, effortless.
~~~
It is eighty years ago, or thereabouts. A coiling spire of stony flesh and verdigrised copper throbs like a tumor on the horizon, coaxed from the earth by spell and sacrifice. It is the tower of a sorcerer-prince, and a birthing place of abominations.
Seven locks of rune-etched metal are opened with her single key. Wretched shapeling beasts, grown by sorcery in vitreous nodules, flee wailing from her, absconding before she even draws her blade. Demons sworn to thousand-year pacts of service find the binding provisions of their agreements unexpectedly severed.
These things dissatisfy the sorcerer-prince. He waxes wroth. He makes signs of power and chants incantations. With a flask of godling's blood, he draws the binding sigil inscribed upon the moon's dark face. With cold fire burning in his eyes, he speaks the secret name of Death. It is a king among curses, all-corrupting, all-consuming, and it falls from his lips upon the swordswoman.
"No," she says, and she turns it aside with her blade.
The sorcerer-prince's brow furrows. How did she even do that?
"Parried it."
But—
"With my sword."
No—
"See, like this."
Stop—
"Well," the swordswoman finally says, "I figured that if I just...looked at it right, and thought about it, and construed your curse as a kind of attack...then I could block it."
That's not how it works at all!
"If you insist," says the swordswoman, shrugging, and decapitates him.
~~~
It is now. It is the end. Death couldn't take the swordswoman, not when she'd spent all her life cutting it up. At times, Death might sidle up to one of her friends, or peer down into a grandchild's crib, and she'd just give it a look. That's all it took, by then.
Heartache couldn't take her, either. Bad things happened to her, and they hurt, and she lived in that hurt, but if it was ever more than she could take...she'd just, move her sword in a way that's difficult to describe. And she'd keep going.
Kingdoms fell, and she kept going. Continents crumbled and sank into the sea. Her planet's star faded and froze. She started carrying a lantern. Universes were torn apart and scattered, until all that had been matter was redistributed in thermodynamic equilibrium. With one exception.
But now it is the end. There is no time left; time is already dead. The swordswoman has outlived reality, but there is simply no further she can go. This is not a thing that can be blocked. This is the absence of anything further to block.
"No," says the girl who will one day be a swordswoman. "This isn't the ending. And even if it was, it's not the ending that matters."
The swordswoman looks back at who she was, at the countless selves she's been between them. She looks forward, at the rapidly contracting point that remains of the future. She grasps the all of linear time in her mind, and sees that it is shaped like a spear.
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steveseddie · 2 months ago
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gold was the color of the leaves
steddie | rating: t | wc: 1,6k | cw: none | tags: steve pov, silly teenage boys, first kiss, fluff
for @steddie-spooktober day twenty two prompt “leaves”
read here on ao3
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Steve wakes up when a leaf tickles his nose– or rather, when someone tickles his nose with a leaf. He scrunches it up, swatting the leaf away with his hand. 
He easily recognizes the snigger that follows so he’s not surprised to open his eyes and find Eddie leaning over him, one elbow propped up on the grass and a devilish grin stretching over his lips.  
Steve lifts his sunglasses to scowl at him. “Are you like, allergic to people relaxing?” He asks in a bitchy tone that only makes Eddie grin wider. 
“Deadly so, Stevie,” he says, long dark eyelashes fluttering as the hand that’s still holding the leaf rests against his forehead like he’s going to faint. “It was either annoying you or dying, and you don’t want me to die, do you?”
“I guess not,” Steve says with a long-suffering sigh, but either the fondness in his voice or the way his lips tick up prove that he doesn’t mean it because Eddie’s grin turns blinding, his dimples popping. Steve is glad he’s already lying down or his knees might’ve buckled at the sight and sent him rolling down the small hill they’re laying on.
“Besides,” Eddie says, tickling Steve’s cheek with the leaf, “you’re missing out on all the fun.”
“Napping is fun,” Steve points out, swatting Eddie’s hand away again. 
“Yeah, if you’re eighty!” Eddie snorts. “Are you an old man, Stevie?”
“Eddie, I’m younger than you,” Steve deadpans. 
“Maybe, but I have a young soul, Harrington–”
Steve smirks. “If by young you mean immature–”
Hand to his heart, Eddie gasps indignantly. “Hey!”
“Dude, you and the kids spent the last hour gathering leaves in piles and jumping on them,” Steve says amusedly. He spent the better part of that hour watching them tackle each other between shrieks of laughter, thankful for his sunglasses and how they let him stare at Eddie as much as he wanted without getting caught.
Eddie shrugs. “Hm, you may have a point.”
When he moves, something in Eddie’s hair catches Steve’s eye. A leaf– proof that he’d spent an hour being tackled and rolling on the floor before he decided to annoy him.
Steve’s fingers itch to reach out and pluck that leaf from Eddie’s hair, smooth the curls down, grab a hold of them and drag Eddie down–
Steve shakes those thoughts out of his head, balling his hands into fists to keep them from reaching out. In the silence that follows, Steve becomes aware of the sudden lack of yells and laughter around them. “Where are the little shitheads?”
“Wheeler sent them to wash their hands so they can have a snack,” Eddie says, pointing at the water fountain where the boys are cleaning up and at Max and El, walking arm in arm towards Nancy and Robin at the picnic table. 
“Not you?” Steve asks, head falling back against the blanket he’s using to lay on the grass. 
Eddie shakes his head. “Nope, I told her she’s not the boss of me,” he pauses, “then ran away before she could hit me with her book.” 
Steve snorts out a chuckle.
“Besides, I don’t want a snack. I got one right here,” Eddie says with a playful wink that turns Steve’s cheeks bright red. 
He ignores the heat creeping on his face. “I swear, Munson, if you try to bite me again–” he says, thinking about last week when Eddie said he was hungry and promptly sunk his teeth on Steve’s arm.
It didn’t hurt that bad– he was wearing a thick sweater after all. What did hurt was biting his tongue as hard as he could to keep a moan from slipping past his lips from Eddie biting him.
Eddie sniggers. “I won’t bite you, I promise,” he says innocently before he leers at Steve, his face hovering merely inches from Steve’s face. “Only if you ask.”
Steve grits his teeth together. “Shut up,” he quips, shoving Eddie off of him until they’re both lying on their backs, their sides pressed together. 
They fall into comfortable silence which Steve breaks with a loud yawn. 
Eddie’s head lolls to the side, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Tired, sweetheart?”
Steve’s stomach flips at the petname. He shrugs as casually as he can. “A little, I- uh, I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“Nightmares?” Steve nods. Eddie grimaces apologetically, tugging some hair across his face. “Shit, I should’ve let you keep napping.”
Without giving it much thought, Steve curls his pinkie around Eddie’s. “No, it’s fine,” he says, waiting for Eddie to meet his gaze. When he does, his eyes are a little wide. Wistfully Steve wishes it’s because of their interlocked pinkies. “I don’t wanna miss out on all the fun just because I’m tired.”
Eddie's eyes sparkle and he props himself up on his elbow again, grinning at Steve. “Does that mean I can tackle you into a pile of leaves?”
“You forget I was a jock,” Steve says smugly. “I’d like to see you try.”
Eddie laughs, something between a snort and a giggle. He drops his head in Steve’s chest, making Steve’s heart stutter. 
From this angle, Steve spots another leaf trapped in the curls in the back of Eddie’s head, and this time he doesn’t stop himself from reaching for it. 
The moment Eddie feels Steve’s fingers in his hair, his head snaps up and Steve’s hand ends up cupping the back of Eddie’s neck. 
Their faces are close– so close that Steve can hear the way Eddie’s breath catches when he realizes the same thing.
“Eddie–” Steve starts, not sure if he’s going to apologize for touching his hair without permission or for the way his eyes keep darting down to Eddie’s lips in a way that he knows is fucking obvious. 
But before he can decide what to say, he hears Eddie make an impatient, needy noise in the back of his throat before he surges forward and presses his lips against Steve’s. 
He lets out a surprised yelp, thinking– holy shit, Eddie is kissing me!
The thought bounces against Steve’s skull like a ping-pong ball as he tries to get his brain working again. But before he can do that long enough to kiss Eddie back, he’s pulling away and out of Steve’s reach. Steve’s hand falls back to his side, empty except for the leaf that he plucked out of Eddie’s hair. 
“You uh– you had this in your hair,” Steve says dumbly, holding up the leaf. 
Eddie’s eyes dart to the leaf and his expression falls as he realizes that is why Steve’s hand ended up in his hair, not because Steve was making some kind of move.
“Shit,” he mutters, his doe-like gaze darting from the leaf to Steve’s mouth. That he just kissed. “Shit, fuck– I– shit.”
He scrambles to his feet, and in his haste, ends up stumbling and falling back on his ass– only to roll down the small hill. 
“Eddie!” 
Steve jumps to his feet and runs after him, careful not to trip and follow Eddie down the hill the same way.
He makes it to the bottom right after Eddie and his eyes dart over his starfished body, checking for injuries. 
“Christ, dude. Are you okay?”
Eddie groans, covering his face with his hands. “Did the fall kill me? Please say yes.”
Steve suppresses a snort. “I mean. It’s barely even a hill, so I don’t think that’s possible. You might end up with a bruise or two though.”
“Oh, you mean apart from the bruise to my ego?” 
“What?”
“You know,” Eddie gestures between himself and Steve with one hand, “because I kissed you and you didn’t want me to.” 
Steve puts his hands on his hips. “Who says I didn’t want you to?”
Eddie’s hands fall from his face, revealing his wide eyes and slack jaw. “You did?” He asks, voice going high-pitched.
“Yeah,” Steve says, a lopsided grin stretching over his lips. He knocks his Nike against Eddie’s leg. “I did, you just took me by surprise, s’all.”
Eddie lets out a tiny, startled, “Oh.”
Steve smirks. “Yeah so how about you get up so I can check you don’t have any cuts or bruises before I kiss you. Properly this time.”
Eddie squeaks and scrambles to his feet with as much grace as when he tumbled down the hill. Steve finds his eagerness fucking endearing. 
There are even more leaves trapped in Eddie’s curls now, and with an amused shake of his head, Steve plucks them out of his hair before checking for any bruises. 
Then, as promised, he leans in and kisses Eddie. The second kiss is also short and chaste and over too soon, but it’s good and Steve has to remind himself they’re in public in order to gather enough willpower to pull back. 
When he does, his brain is a little hazy and he completely misses the way Eddie’s expression shifts from dopey to mischievous so it catches him by surprise when Eddie tackles him into a pile of leaves, laughing maniacally. 
“Ha! Got ya!” Eddie whoops, pushing himself up onto his hands and knees, hovering over Steve who wants nothing more than to kiss the stupid smug smile off his face. 
But he can hear the kids laughing at him and cheering for Eddie in the distance and there’s no way he can get away with kissing him even if Eddie’s hair falls like a curtain around them, offering a little cover.
So he grabs a handful of leaves and shoves them into Eddie’s grinning mouth instead.
He’ll save the kiss for later.
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folkloresthings · 5 months ago
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thinking about fernando & reader who also loves flowers. imagine him coming home from a triple header to the house looking vibrant & beautiful & it warms his heart that the house feels truly like a home ❤️ i could also see reader sending his favorite flowers to his hotel when he’s away too & writing him cute notes to go along with them
FULL BLOOM. ❨ fernando alonso x florist!reader ❩
"statistically, eighty-eight percent of men don't receive flowers until their funeral."
it was what you had said to fernando during your first date, as an explanation for the bouquet you had just handed him. he had brought you some roses, too, but they were nothing compared to the coordinated bundle you had brought. though stunned, a smile crept onto his lips.
you were a florist, he discovered, and owned a little shop just down the street from his favourite coffee shop -- where you had met just days before, bumping into each other accidentally and ending in exchanging phone numbers. it made sense, now. your perfume was slightly floral, and your whole demeanour seemed to fit your occupation. soft, pretty, elegant.
it took three months into the relationship for fernando to give up on bringing you flowers, his often falling short of the ones you created every day. you didn't mind -- you worked with the plants all day long; you had enough to last you a lifetime. other presents ensued: chocolates, jewellery, trinkets that reminded him of you. still, you kept bringing him bouquets. he loved the new decoration of his house, suddenly much brighter than it had ever been. little pieces of you at home with him.
"you may as well move in." fernando shrugged one day, glancing at your personal touches across the rooms. "you stay here when i'm at races, and i don't like it when you leave."
it was an easy decision in the end, and most of your belongings already lived in his house. once you had settled and the space became shared, what was once fernando's bachelor pad became a home. every other day, you arrived home from work with a new bunch of flowers. and every time, fernando would sit down and listen to you list off what each one meant.
"i thought it could use a little sprucing up," you told him when he came home to carefully chosen flowers littered from room to room. fernando only crossed the room to kiss you, squashing the roses in your hands between you both.
only when he went away for races without you did he realise just how much he appreciated your floral arrangements brightening up his days. at home, even when you weren't around, he could look to one of the vases and think of you. two days into his time in jeddah and he was almost sick with missing you. the time difference made it difficult to keep up with calls, one of you just waking as the other fell to sleep.
fernando was dragging his feet back from a terrible qualifying session, pushing past the team to get to his hotel room as quickly as he could. he didn't want to talk to the press, he didn't want to see the engineers, he didn't want to hang out with the other drivers. he just wanted you.
his tiredness almost had him miss the delivery sat on the table of his suite as he locked the door behind him. a stunning bouquet of flowers in the centre, basking the room in a new light. tucked inside was a small envelope and he recognised your handwriting straight away.
"edelweiss for courage. lavender to keep you calm. and tulips, for my love for you."
fernando felt himself relax, as if you had just wrapped your arms around him and held him close. he smiled to himself, grinning like an idiot all alone, and flipped the card in his hands.
"a little bit of home to keep close by."
a little bit of home, he thought, running his fingers over the delicate petals he knows you probably spent an hour arranging. a little bit of you with him, even while you were so far away.
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klausysworld · 1 year ago
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Hello gorgeous!
Sooo I had this idea of Klaus and reader being married (she wants a divorce) but currently separated. She starts seeing Damon. Klaus lets her have her way for a bit as nothing has crossed the line, but then he finds out reader slept with Damon and Klaus goes absolutely feral over it and tells his wife that’s enough of this and drags back reader home and slides her wedding ring back on her finger.
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Not His, Not Yours.
Klaus and I had slowly but surely grown apart.
We had married for decades for now, just over a century actually and to begin with it was all but a dream.
He had hundreds of thousands of gifts and words to express his love. Paintings and poems to show how pure his feelings were.
He was gentle when I needed and only ever rough when I wanted when him to be.
There wasn’t a question of doubt between us both. I loved him with all of my heart and he loved me with all of his soul. So much so that he actually proposed to me. Elijah and Rebekah couldn’t believe it but were unbelievably supportive. I even turned into a vampire so that I could be with him forever.
And for a nearly eighty years, everything was okay.
Of course the gifts were less frequent but I didn’t care about that so much. Not if I still had him. Even if he forgot to tell me he loved me, I didn’t need him to, deep down I knew that he did.
One thing I didn’t like, was when he would get flirty with other women. Especially because of how he behaved when I, heaven forbid, smiled at a man.
But still, with reassurance from his siblings and Elijah’s promise to talk to Klaus about it, I dropped it and didn’t speak of it. So he flirted, it didn’t mean anything. What’s a kiss when I have his heart?
Surprisingly Klaus never slept with anyone else. I suppose it’s unfair to say surprisingly but to be honest I had feared and expected him to have from time to time.
Especially when he became more distant. When he would disappear or return in the early hours of the morning. I would beg to know where he was and after a series of repeated yelling, he would grab me and show me his memories of the night before. Often he just got drunk and would pass out somewhere random or wonder around for inspiration, sometimes he’d attack a village and slaughter hundreds in mere hours. When finished showing me, he would give me that same look and tell me that I shouldn’t look so surprised. He may love me, but he wouldn’t ever be better for me.
And I would just nod and told him I already knew that.
And I’d wait for the next time that would happen.
We went days between sex, then weeks, gradually months and eventually we just didn’t. We slept beside each other mostly out of habit but we wouldn’t touch.
I never stopped loving him, I don’t think I ever could but I wasn’t sure if I loved him the same way anymore. And I certainly didn’t think he loved me that way. But we weren’t exactly friends either. It were as though we were just strangers at this point, strangers who held each others hearts.
And I had accepted that perhaps that’s all we would be. We lived that way for a couple of years, I’d stay with him like a shadow but that’s all I would be.
Until Mystic Falls.
So much happened in not enough time. Klaus became his true self and for some reason part of me thought perhaps that would rekindle something but he showed no more nor less interest so I just went on.
Until one day, his eyes held a spark. But it wasn’t for me. It was for Caroline Forbes.
She was blonde, young and new to vampirism but still bold and confident in herself. I was like that once, before I grew quiet and obedient to Klaus’s will.
So I took another step back and let him chase her a little. I sort of wanted him to sleep with her so that maybe he would just divorce me and I would know that what we had was really over.
But he didn’t. He gave her a present, drawings and spoke poetry to her without her realising but he didn’t kiss her or even lean in.
He still would come back to bed and lay beside me like usual.
I didn’t want him to think I would hate him if he fell for someone else. I’d rather he be happy with another than miserable with me. I knew he craved more, so did I.
And so with a lot of courage, I asked for a divorce but he refused me. That I didn’t understand.
“Why?” I asked, my brows pulling together as he scowled
“Because you’re my wife” he answered as though that meant anything anymore “I have loved you for a century. I will not just be done with you”
“Loved, Klaus. Loved. It’s in the past.” I argued
“I love you now as much as I did then” he told me, his voice raising
“No Klaus…you don’t” I whispered, my eyes glancing to the floor as I let out a small sigh. This was probably one of the reasons he liked Caroline more. I showed weakness and submission too easily to him. The difference was that I knew he wouldn’t kill me if I fought back but I feared it would be worse.
“We’re not getting a divorce. Ever.” He stated calmly, though I could feel his anger.
“I can’t do this Klaus” I mumbled. “I can’t just be known and your wife and hide in the house all the time”
“Then go out” he grumbled
“You don’t let me” I answered, remembering the last time I went out without telling him and he yelled at me for being inconsiderate and stupid. Apparently it wasn’t safe for me without his protection due to being so intimately associated with him.
“Well…now you can” he replied matter of factly.
“You should ask Caroline out” I whispered “She likes you too, Rebekah heard her talking to Bonnie about you”
“I wouldn’t-“
“But maybe you should” I sighed, hesitantly looking him in the eye once again. “You should at least try…you might like to be with someone…” I paused and swallowed dryly “someone else”
“Are you seeing…someone else?” He asked quietly, his eyes flicking between mine.
“No…not yet” I whispered and he nodded
“But?”
“But I think I should” I murmured before falling back into silence.
We stood there for a while, uncomfortable and guilt ridden before his phone went and he reluctantly left.
He didn’t come to bed that night.
To me that seemed like his way of confirming that we wouldn’t be together anymore, or for a while at least.
When I saw he had made up a bed in one of the guest rooms, it was clear that was the case.
So I started to go out a little.
When I saw Klaus with Caroline at the grill, I realised I needed to leave. Leave town, his life so that I didn’t ruin his chances.
But as fate would have it, when I rushed out of the building, I walked straight into Damon Salvatore. He recognised me in an instant and was grinning like a Cheshire Cat.
“What’s Klaus’s wife doing out and about?” He snickered and I sighed
“I’m not” I mumbled and he raised a brow
“Not what? Not his wife or not out?”
“I’m going home” I whispered, walking outside but he followed.
“Oh come on, I didn’t mean to scare you off so quick” he chuckled and I rolled my eyes
“Please. You couldn’t scare me” I muttered “have you seen who I’m supposed to be married to?”
“Supposed to be eh? Things not turning out?” He pressed, walking backwards beside me as I made my way back to the mansion.
“My marriage falling apart won’t benefit your precious Elena. It’s been broken for years.” I grumbled, and he rolled his eyes
“Forgive me for being curious” he muttered, his annoyance shining making my heart sink. I didn’t like it when people were rude and now I was the one doing it.
“Sorry” I whispered “I didn’t mean to sound so snappy”
I could feel his eyes on me as we neared the manner and before I could get it the door, his hand reached for mine which however pathetic it may seem, made my smile. Nobody had touched my skin for months.
“You should come out more, I’d like to talk with you some more” he told me and I faltered
“I wouldn’t tell you anything- not about him”
“I didn’t think you would” he answered, before leaving.
After that I went out a little more.
Damon would tease me and make me laugh. He would draw out the little confidence I had left and have me use it. I’d taunt back at him and go so far as to flirt once I’d had a few drinks.
After a while he asked to take me out. I thought he was joking.
“Oh will Elena be joining us? Perhaps Stefan to?” I laughed but he didn’t even smile
“I’m serious” he stated, his hand squeezing mine “just us…anywhere you want”
I stared at him “I um…I don’t know” I whispered, nervous and confused.
“I can wait” he answered as he caressed my arm softly.
When I got home Klaus was already there, his eyes on me in an instant. Without a word he placed his wedding band on the table before him and walked out the room. I felt a lump form in my throat as I shakily slid both my wedding and engagement rings off and put them beside his.
I went upstairs and cried. And I felt stupid for it because I was the one who asked for this.
So after a moment I pulled myself together and grabbed my phone. I took a breath before sending Damon a message
I like the Italian the next town over?
He replied quickly
Friday, 7?
I’ll meet you there
I’ll see you soon
I swallowed thickly and closed my messages before searching for apartments near me to rent.
If Klaus and I were actually ending this then I wanted to do it right. That meant I needed to live without him fully, so I sent in some applications to a couple of places.
Before any of them could come back, my date with Damon came around.
It went surprisingly well. We ate, spoke, joked and laughed. He paid, insistent that I shouldn’t. He then drove me back to the mansion and kissed me goodbye.
I refused to look anywhere near Klaus when I went up the stairs. He never said anything either, we spoke only if we absolutely had to and on the occasion that Damon and I would see Klaus out, we would instead go to his house for a while.
I spent a lot of time with Damon, he made me feel more alive. He brought back the spark in me that I thought I had lost and built my confidence back up. He made me feel more things in a couple months than Klaus had in the past fifteen years.
I knew it was wrong to compare them, but when all I had ever known was Klaus…he was all I had to know how a relationship worked to be able to tell if what I had with Damon was really something.
It progressed quickly, it scared me somewhat. I worried that it was a trap to make me help him with everyone else. However when I heard him defending me to both Elena and Stefan, I double guessed myself.
Slowly I felt myself begin to trust Damon, I felt as though I was learning to love and desire once more.
It was because of that feeling that I didn’t stop him when he began to take my clothes off. Or when he trailed his lips down my skin and pressed his mouth between my legs. I cried out for him when his fingers curled inside me and I clung to him when he finally took me as his own.
I stayed beside him for the rest of the night, pressed to his chest with his arms around me. It was a warmth that I wasn’t used to anymore but that I needed and yearned for. I stayed at his house for days after, wearing his clothes and living in his arms. But unfortunately I knew that I couldn’t just move in there so soon, so I had to go back to the mansion.
————————————————————————
(3rd person)
Klaus found out that Y/n had slept with Damon the day after it happened. Stefan had told him so when in the heat of an argument.
To begin with he thought the Salvatore was just trying to piss him off but when Stefan’s face dropped and his heart sped up, Klaus realised it was true.
Immediately he went home and smashed every item in her room. Shredded her clothes and tore up every flower Damon had gifted her and the little photos she had printed of them. It was after he broke apart her bed and found the box of forgotten memories did he calm down. He found all the poems and pieces of artwork he had ever given her, love letters and other tokens of their love kept safe and close to her. It broke him.
Klaus never meant for their marriage to deteriorate so badly. He loved Y/n, truly. But throughout the years he got distracted. Whenever his family got to town, his focus was off her and whenever a threat showed up he made a point of being distanced from her to ensure they wouldn’t attack her. After the first few times he’d done that, she got upset and wouldn’t want to kiss him, not when he would go weeks of ignoring her and then expecting her affection.
So he began to drink some more, to forget her touch and her voice for just a moment. But it made everything worse. She began to worry he was cheating on her and to be honest he couldn’t blame her for thinking that but in the moment when she would accuse him, he would be outraged.
He couldn’t stop himself from yelling, being offended and snapping. But after, when he would hear her cries and see her curled up in their bed, he would push himself further away in hopes that he wouldn’t be able to hurt her as much from a distance.
It only got worse.
And now he was on the floor of a room that was once his aswell, crying for his marriage that would no longer last.
Eventually he dragged himself up from the floor and went back to his own room, or rather the spare room that he had been sleeping in. He dug through his drawers to find their rings that he took after they both removed them and put his wedding band back on, smiling sadly at the fond memories of the first time she had put it on him.
He held her rings in his hand tightly as he heard the front door open and closed quietly before soft footsteps sounded up the stairs.
————————————————————————
(1st person)
I moved as quickly but as quietly as I could up to my room. I was in jeans and one of Damons shirts so I really couldn’t let Klaus see me.
Hurriedly I opened my bedroom door only to come to a standstill. Quite literally everything was on the floor. If I didn’t know what Klaus was like, I’d have thought a hurricane had passed through the room. I stared blankly for a moment before I both heard and sensed his presence from beside me.
“What did you do?” I whisper, staring at all the little things that meant so much to me scattered and broken into pieces.
“I don’t want you seeing him” he told me, his voice firm. My head snapped to his and I felt both anger and sadness swirl inside me.
“You ruined everything I have” I uttered, my voice still barely above a whisper
“You slept with him” he stated his tone cold but his eyes showed hurt and I part of em felt guilt but the other side just wanted to smack him.
“And?” I asked, my volume increasing slightly
“And? And you’re mine. You do not get to sleep around-“
“For crying out loud Klaus! I am not yours!” I yell, pointing my finger at him “And I do not sleep around! I slept with one person”
“I should have stopped you seeing him ages ago, this shouldn’t have happened” he muttered
“You can’t control every aspect of my life Klaus. We are not together anymore. We agreed on this” i whispered, my tone tired.
“We have not agreed on anything! I never wanted this-“
“Klaus we haven’t agreed on something for a good twenty years! It’s why we’re here” I exasperated
“That does not give you the excuse to fuck someone else” he growled and I glared
“Why? Did you plan on fucking me? Because I highly doubt it Klaus. And even if you wanted to, I wouldn’t have your hands anywhere near me now” I retorted.
I knew immediately that he would speed at me and so moved out of the way, he continued to chase me round the house until eventually he had me against the wall. Both of us were panting heavily, my hands pushing at his chest but he kept me caged.
“Get off me!” I cried, kicking my feet at his legs but he only grunted and held me as still as he could. I shoved at his chest with as much strength as I could but it was obvious that I couldn’t overpower a hybrid. He faltered only slightly at the impact before his hands were grabbing my waist to lift me. Without thinking I brought my hand to his face, smacking him as hard as I could manage.
His head cracked to the side and my eyes went wide. Slowly, he turned back to me. His expression was one of surprise as he stared at me. I felt myself grow meek under his gaze and my bottom lip wobbled.
“I’m sorry” I whispered “I didn’t mean to do that- I didn’t…” I felt his hold on me weaken but I didn’t move this time. My hand tingled from where I’d hit him and so did the guilt that pooled in the pit of my stomach.
His arms slipped around me, hugging me to him and I just didn’t know how to react.
I love Klaus. I do, I always will. But I couldn’t just pretend that every bad thing hadn’t happened and fall back into his arms. I wondered if in Klaus’s mind, if he thought that just sleeping with me and telling me that he found me pretty would be enough to fix this marriage. I knew it wasn’t but I worried for what he thought.
Still, I hugged him back gently. By touch reluctant but there. His warmth enveloped me and I felt my eyes water at the once familiar sensation.
“I missed you so dearly” he mumbled, his face lowering to nuzzle the crook of my neck. He pulled away slowly and grabbed my left hand, I looked to him blankly as he slid both rings back onto my finger. “I’m gonna fix everything” he whispered
“Klaus-“ I sighed
“Just let me try” he murmured
“I-“
“Please” he whispered and I sighed softly. Only the lords know whether I was going to make the right decision or not.
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pseudowho · 6 months ago
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What would a Kento Nanami do for his birthday? The possibilities are near endless my brain can’t contain it!
What say you, Mrs. Haitch?
So if he were alone, I think he'd start by calling up his parents, and his grandfather, who lives with Kento's parents and is an elderly, Danish man by this point. He taught Kento Danish as a child, and they sit and have a quiet little conversation while Kento makes himself a coffee. He knows he's privileged that his grandfather is still alive, in his eighties and generally poorly behaved not me headcanoning Kento's grandfather as one of the last remaining Witchers of Europe and having left it all behind for Kento's Japanese grandmother and so secretly it's where Kento got his Curse Sight from and I know there are plotholes in this and this is a Headcanon for another day but anyway
Kento doesn't dress up; he dresses down. All black. His comfiest black slim fit jeans, an old band t-shirt. He wishes he could wear a big heavy overcoat, a black one like he used to, but the weather is too warm, even early. His hair is mussed and soft. He heads out for breakfast, finding a favourite little bistro.
He tells nobody that it's his birthday. He's off work for other, boring reasons, according to everyone else. He sees another year pass, and wonders with an edge of melancholy, if this is the last birthday he will celebrate.
Taking a book with him, he enjoys a long, slow breakfast. He ensures he finishes that book, and walks a languid walk to a local bookshop, to buy the next.
He visits the market. Buys loads of fresh food, cheese and bread, olives. Fresh olive oil, infused with garlic and truffle. A cake he knows he will be too full up to eat.
He sleeps in late, and goes to bed early; but cannot sleep. The corest part of him wonders if he should see his birthday through until midnight. He wonders and wonders and gets up and goes for a snack. He wonders. If this year is the year he falls in love. If this year is the year he gets a cat, like he always wanted. He couldn't, he thinks. He's away too much. It isn't fair.
By the time he reaches midnight, he is steeped in red wine and camembert, and god, does he want to live. He wants to live more than anything, not work and work on the promise of living later.
It will be the Autumn, soon. After Halloween passes, he will hand in his notice.
His elderly grandfather misses him the most.
Except, that didn't happen. The boy with the pink hair who loves Kento so deeply arrived in time. Kento lived. His grandfather cried, stroking over Kento's burns with a clawed over hand.
The next year, Kento took Yuuji out for cake...to say thank you.
Love,
-- Haitch xxx
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vivwritesfics · 7 months ago
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If your taking requests could you write Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader
Rooster meeting a girl a few weeks before top gun and hooking up with her a few times (no actual smut)
And later on sees her in top gun and she is the first female pilot he meet (if possible for her callsign to be Chaos) and walking up to her before saying something like "you got me trained like a damn dog"
< based on this tiktok: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeaGGyMR/>
I am so sorry I've had this in my inbox for so fucking long, been trying to find a way to... write this, I suppose. I'll be honest, this turned out very different to the request but I couldn't find a way to make it this exact way. I hope you still like it!
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They met eyes across The Hard Deck. It was both of their first times at Top Gun, that fundamental last night before they started.
(Now, I must note that this was before Penny bought The Hard Deck. It looked different to what it did when she and Bradley later returned for the uranium mine mission, but it still served the same purpose)
She sipped her drink and he sipped his beer, wiping the foam away from his moustache. Shit, he was hot. She watched as he whispered something to his wingman and approached.
If it had been the eighties, she would have lost that loving feeling. But it wasn't the eighties anymore, and Bradley had long since given up using his dad and Mavericks pickup tricks (gave up when Mav pulled his papers, actually).
He didn't sing to her, did some good old fashioned flirting.
It was a good thing he was cute, she thought with a grin. She held out her hand, signalling that it had worked. "Chaos," she said.
He placed his hand into her own and shook it. "Rooster," he replied, exchanging callsigns.
Chaos and Rooster. Chaos she was indeed. Chaos they both were. Bradley couldn't help but follow her, his hand in hers as she led him out of The Hard Deck. His wingman whooped and hollered at him as he left, following her out to her car.
She had debating staying on base or renting a place of her own for a month. Now that she had Bradley kissing her in the back of her car, she was so glad that she rented a place of her own. The way his lips trailed down her neck, had her moaning so slowed anybody outside of the car could hear.
She got him back to her rented place, got him into her rented bed, and didn't let him leave it until the next morning. He had her awake for most of the night, absolutely railing her (there is very little else I can say about it, but the burn on his moustache was, wow. Her legs had never shaken like that before, but that is a story for another day).
He left before she got up, making his way back to his own place, to his baby (the Ford Bronco).
They'd given each other their callsigns, knew each other by no other name. It shouldn't have been a surprise to Bradley when she walked in and took a seat in front of him.
"Shit," he hissed under his breath.
But there she was, Chaos. Bradley's cheeks were flaming any time the two had to interact.
But Chaos? She didn't stop flirting. And Bradley couldn't stop himself from falling for it. Time and time again he ended up in her bed. Neither much minded it. It didn't become rare to see his Ford Bronco parked outside.
But then they were shipping out. One last night at The Hard Deck, drinking together. It hadn't quite struck to the two that this was their last night being together.
If she wanted anything that night, Bradley was getting it from the bar. They didn't hide any sort of... relationship (or whatever it was) that night, with Bradley kissing her whenever he walked over to pass her the beer he'd gotten to her.
"Damn," said Natasha as she sipped her drink. She was the one watching the clock, watching for the minute it got within twelve hours of them flying. "You've got him trained like a damn dog."
It was a rather sad thought. Not that she had him 'trained like a damn dog', but that soon, they'd bee moving on from Top Gun and leaving each other behind. There was no telling where they'd end up and whether they'd be able to stay in touch.
God, she couldn't tear up here. She concentrated on one spot on the ground, just trying to keep herself from crying.
"Chaos?" Something touched her shoulder, a cold bottle of beer. Bradley held it in front of her face and she gladly took it.
They'd be okay. For this last night, they'd be okay.
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morganski-19 · 7 months ago
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Chills Right to the Marrow Part 15
part 1, prev part
note: yeah, this one's going to hurt
Dustin takes a few days before returning to the hospital again. Not because he fully wants to. His mom has been too busy to drive him and Steve’s not really available either. Between work and a period of really bad migraines, Dustin hasn’t wanted to bother him. Which is new to him, but they both could use the break.
This time off has actually helped him some. He’s focusing a bit more on school. Getting assignments done on time and paying more attention in his classes. He’s been able to sleep a little better. Can almost get through the night without waking up in a cold sweat.
It’s been better. So Dustin decides to go visit Eddie again.
Steve’s walking next to him, now up to visiting Eddie. Finally, over whatever was keeping him from even thinking of going into the hospital room unless he needed to. Dustin’s glad, it’s been helping him.
There’s a nurse asking Eddie some questions when they enter. And he’s responding. With words. Not just grunts or blinks. But actual words. Dusitn almost can’t believe it.
“What year is it?” the nurse asks.
Eddie takes a deep breath. “Nineteen,” another breath, “eighty-six.” His voice is scratchy and dry.
“Great,” she marks something on her chart.
Dustin takes his seat next to Wayne, looking hopeful.
“What day of the week is it?”
Eddie closes his eyes, as if he’s trying to pull the memories from his mind. He shakes his head. Looking tired and agitated. The nurse marks another thing on her chart.
Dustin looks to Wayne, the joy in his face falling when he sees the anguish in Wayne’s eyes. There’s something more to this. Something’s wrong.
“Can you tell me what happened right before you came in here, Eddie?”
Dustin freezes and sees Steve tense out of the corner of his eye. Both of them looking to Eddie to see what he says. Knowing that he can’t say what happened. Knowing that he technically could. The NDA waiting for him is left unsigned.
Eddie huffs out a breath, struggling to inhale another one. Starting to peel off the bandages around his IV’s. Struggling, trying to sit up.
“Ed,” Wayne leans forward, trying to reason with him. “We talked about this yesterday. You can’t take those things off. They’re keepin’ you alive, son.”
Yesterday. This isn’t the first time. Eddie’s been more awake for at least a day and no one told him.
Dustin glances at Steve, seeing a mix of emotions on his face. Pain, worry, fear. A deep, rich sadness. Like he knows the words Eddie is going to say next. Knows how terrible they are.
“Fuck you,” Eddie exhales. The look in his eyes both blank and full of anger. He continues to pick at the bandage, succeeding in getting it off.
Wayne grabs Eddie’s wrist, pulling it away from his IV. “I know you don’t mean that.”
“Fuck,” breathe, “you.” The anger doesn’t leave Eddie’s face. Terrifying in how much is translated with how little is expressed. The tiredness holding his muscles back from properly emoting. Yet perfectly getting the point across.
Steve leans down to whisper in Dustin’s ear. “Maybe we should leave. Come back later.”
Eddie’s head lifts when he finally registers Steve and Dustin’s presence. A new flicker of something comes to his face. Just to melt off again. Back to the resting ghost that’s taken over.
“Out,” he snaps. Pushing his arm into the air and pointing at Steve. “Out.”
“I think it’s best you both leave,” the nurse interjects. Trying to hold the IV in Eddie’s arm as he continues to pull.
Normally, Dusitn would protest. Say that he needs to be here. That it would make things better. But it’s only a matter of time until the anger turns on him. He’s not sure he could take that.
Wayne has to pry Eddie’s hand away from the IV again, holding it close to the bar. Just like another cuff. Eddie’s using all of his strength to try and wrench it away. But he’s weak. Falls into the pillows breathless. Exhausted.
Tears start to form in his eyes as his face scrunches up. A soundless sob releasing from his throat. He tries to fight the nurse while she’s reapplying the bandage around his IV. Finally giving up.
Eddie opens his eyes again, finally looking at Dustin. Taking one more giant breath before saying the first thing to him since he died. Tears painting down his face. Pain indented in his eyes.
“Leave,” he whispers. Pleads.
Dustin stands and leaves the room, only making a few steps before his own sob breaks free. There was no look of recognition in Eddie’s eyes. No spark when he saw Dustin. Nothing to give him any solace that Eddie knew who he was. Knew what Dustin meant to him. Knew what happened in those last moments. As Eddie’s body crumbled in Dustin arms.
He remembered none of it. But it remembered him.
Steve pulls Dustin away from the hallway. Wraps his arms around him, holding the pieces as they fall. As the hope Dustin foolishly held shatters. He thought waking up meant Eddie was getting better.
He now sees how wrong that idea was.
They sit silently next to each other in the waiting room. Dustin’s tears drying on his cheeks. Steve not knowing what to say, so just not saying anything at all. It’s deafening.
Wayne finds them after some time. Sits across from them. Silent, until he clears his throat. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
Dustin wants to respond. Ask what happened in the days he wasn’t here. But his mouth can’t seem to open for the words to form.
“Eddie,” Wayne continues. “Eddie’s goin’ through a bit of amnesia after fully waking up. It’s making him angry, and he’s fightin’ just because of the pain. It’s nothing against you.”
Dustin wasn’t in the room when Will was possessed by the Mind Flayer. He’s only heard the stories from Mike. How Will didn’t remember him that much. Could barely remember his own mom. How the monster took the memories and hid them away. Smothered them. Sequestered Will in his own mind.
Eddie wasn’t controlled by the Mind Flayer. Or anything from the Upside Down. Dustin had given El a picture of Eddie and asked her to see if he was the only one in there. That there was nothing lingering in the depths of his mind that would take him away.
It apparently didn’t need monsters to do that. Sometimes life did that for them.
“Do they know when, if, the amnesia will go away?” Steve asks. Dustin still speechless.
Wayne shakes his head, fighting the mist in his eyes. “Could be days, could be weeks. Won’t know until he’s more conscious. He’s still in and out of sleep, probably won’t be up again till tomorrow.”
Tomorrow. Dustin can only hope that Eddie remembers him tomorrow.
next part
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solarwonux · 8 months ago
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Business Proposal || knj (9/?)
pairing: namjoon x f!reader || ex friends to lovers!au friends to lovers!au
Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fwb!au, non idol!au, unrequited love
Warnings: slow burn, angst, fluff, flirting, semi-edited, smut, fingering, eating out, unprotected sex.
Rating: mature, 18+
w.c: 8.0
Synopsis: Namjoon is living on borrowed time, and it’s time to cash in. His father is months from taking his last breathe and his life long dream is to watch his oldest son say “I do.”
A/n: lol, hello, I'm sorry for being so MIA lately. I kinda have had half of this written since November but my mom came to visit me in Korea and I forgot about it haha. If you are still here thank you for sticking around! Enjoy! Let me know your thoughts!
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10 Years Ago
Things were finally looking up.
“If you just remember everything we have gone over you'll be fine.” He simply says like it's no big deal, waving you off. 
You on the other hand are filled with the gnawing pain of your nerves. As you look down at your notebook filled with an equal mixture of correct and incorrect answers. 
Maybe things weren't really looking up. 
“I think we should do a few more.” You rush out, flipping to a new page. In that exact moment, the buzzer in Namjoon's hand goes off, and he stands up. 
He pushes in his chair and walks to stand beside you, putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Over studying is not the answer.” He says gently, giving your shoulder a light squeeze before walking away to pick up your drinks. 
Your protest dying as you burn daggers into his back. You aren't sure if it's a good thing that he has so much faith in you. When you don't have an ounce in yourself. Especially when in two days you'll hopefully end your misery with the dreaded math final. 
It's been two whole months since you've started your weekly tutoring sessions with Namjoon. You aren't completely lost in class anymore. If you are, you just come to the broad man and drown him in all kinds of questions. With this tactic you've even managed to get an eighty-five present in your last math test. 
The only thing left for you to pass is the stupid final.
You have been seeing Namjoon a lot more this week. Scheduling, and practically begging him to squeeze you into his tight schedule since Monday. A request to brush up on equations and gain some clarity on things you might have forgotten. To say the least, your test anxiety has reached a whole new level. You visibly look exhausted, your skin is oilier than usual, sporting a few painful pimples on your chin, and your hair looks so greasy despite just washing it in the morning. You should feel slightly ashamed for even leaving your house looking like a hot mess, but your thoughts are suffocating. Staying in would make the panic in the pit of your stomach worse. 
Especially when you and your tutor have recently discovered your inability to do word problems. The main reason why you keep calling Namjoon at three in the morning. Even though he thinks you're just being paranoid, especially with the silent sigh of defeat you hear through your phone speaker. He tries his best to reassure you that you're going to be fine at the end of the day. 
“There will probably be three, five at most. He had said last night when you called. 
Thankfully he had stayed up revising his final paper, instead of being three dimensions deep in dream land like on Sunday when you called. Still, even though he had muttered out a tiny complaint, he stayed on the line with you. Until you were calm enough to fall asleep again. 
In just three months your acquaintance has blossomed into a full on friendship. Along with your sneaking suspicion that both Taehyung and Jimin like him better. It was obvious last Friday night when Jimin had a small end of the semester get together at his apartment. Namjoon got so drunk he performed the entirety of Grease Lightning on karaoke. Including the dance break with special guest and step brother Jeon Jungkook. 
Later on in the night the older of the four cried about the final scene in the Titanic. It was a rollercoaster of emotions, but heartwarming to be able to see a different side of the Philosophy student. 
“Look who decided to join us.” You jump, placing your pen down in your notebook, closing it to hold your page. You turn around, feeling a wide smile come onto your face when you lock eyes with the other source of your happiness these last few months. 
“Hobi,” you exclaim, holding your arms out to him. He chuckles, and leans down giving you one of those awkward hugs one gives when the other person is sitting down. It only lasts a few seconds and then he is leaning his head back to plant a sloppy kiss on your cheek, making you cringe. 
“Ew,” you pout, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. He chuckles, pecking your lips lightly and then taking the seat next to you. 
“Joon says you need a break from being a math wizard.” He chuckles, dragging your notebook to him. He places his arms over it keeping it hostage.
You whine crossing your arms in front of you, pouting like a child. “But what if I don't pass. I don't want to have to take the class a third time.” 
Namjoon shakes his head, sets your chamomile tea in front of you, and sits down. “I already told you, you won't. I did the math last night. Even if you get a sixty five percent, you'll still be able to pass the class with a B.” He states firmly and takes a sip from his coffee. 
You huff, sinking further into the chair. “I don't want a B, I want an A.” 
Hoseok snakes an arm over your shoulders and brings you close to his side.” “Then you will pass the class with an A honey cakes.” He kisses your temple before resting his cheek on top of your head. You take a deep breath, nodding and snuggling closer to him.
“So are you two dating now?” Namjoon leans back in his seat, crossing his arms in front of him.
Hoseok waves an arm, brushing off the question that has been surrounding the two of you these past three weeks. “You know it's not like that.” He answers before you can. He pulls his arm away and sets them both on top of your notebook. He sends you a knowing wink. 
“Yeah you out of all people should know it's not like that.” You back up Hoseok, sticking your tongue out at the other. “How's Rina by the way?” You challenge making the man next to you burst out in a fit of giggles. 
You see, most of the things Jungkook told you about Namjoon prior to your first meeting have all been lies. Or just not the whole truth.
Namjoon was a broody person. He did put his studies as one of his priorities in life. And he didn't want a relationship. 
Yet in the last few months you have gotten to know the career driven man. You've also managed to peel back some of his layers. 
He did have his moments of indignation, but he could also be very playful and funny. This side mostly comes out when Hoseok is around or when he wants you to get your mind off the things that have been stressing you out. He does have a strong work ethic, but he also knows when to take a break. 
There have even moments in your tutoring slash now study sessions when he forces you to take walks. He says it helps clear your head, but you also know it's his way to get his ideas to flow again whenever he feels stuck. 
During these walks you've managed to find out more things about him. He loves museums because he's shit at art, and knowing that there are people out there who aren't makes him appreciate the art a lot more. At least once every two months he visits the tree he and his father planted his mother’s ashes at to update her on his life. He cares so much for Jungkook and his mother even if he doesn't show it all the time. And despite not wanting a relationship he has been head over heels for the girl he's been casually hooking up with for the last two years. 
Though he won't come out and say it himself. You have witnessed the way his face settles down into something calmer. And his eyes light up whenever his phone rings and her name pops up on the screen.
He once spent thirty minutes talking about a joke she had told him one night. Spoiler alert, it wasn't a good one, but it was adorable watching him try to get it out in-between chuckles. 
You also know he shares the same negative sentiment Jungkook has about your current relationship with his best friend. But just like he claims that his relationship with Rina is complicated. So, is yours with the ray of sunshine you get to now call friend.
“She's fine.” He shrugs, clearing his throat and looking out the window. You share a look with Hoseok before letting out a fit of shared giggles. 
If someone had once told you that your strict math tutor slash friend would turn into a shy mess with just the simple mention of a name. You would've thought they were fucking with you. Even if it still surprises you a little bit. 
“You should just ask her to be your girlfriend.” Hoseok chimes in. 
Namjoon throws his head back groaning. “It wouldn't work out if I do, plus that would require for me to act like a boyfriend and I'm not ready for that kind of commitment.” He speaks with his eyes trained on the high ceiling of the cafe. 
You lean forward placing your elbows on top of the table and wrapping your arms around the hot mug. “You already do Namjoon. A switch of labels is not going to change anything. And don't you think she deserves some kind of confirmation and respect when it comes to your relationship?” You finish tilting your head to the side. 
“I do respect her though, which is why I don't want to ask her, like you just said a label won't change anything.” 
You let out a sigh, “I didn't say that you didn't respect her. I just think that from a girl's perspective she might be feeling a little bit confused with your words and actions. You say the two of you aren't anything serious but then you act like you can't live without her. If I was in her shoes I would feel very frustrated. So, maybe you don't have to make this big grand gesture or ask her to officially be your girlfriend but just clarify things between the two of you. If you aren't serious about her then so be it but if you are then tell her that.” You finish and take your first sip from your tea. 
“I agree with honey cakes, just be a little more straight forward that's all.” Hoseok shrugs before standing up. 
Namjoon rolls his eyes, and looks between the two of you. “And what about you?” He counteracts childishly. You knew it was coming. In his eyes the two of you giving him advice when you're in a similar situation is a bit hypocritical. Plus you and Hoseok are on the same page so it's di–
“That's different.” Hoseok speaks before you. “And this is about your love life not ours.” He states stuffing his hands in his pockets. 
“Whatever.” Namjoon brushes off. You sigh, aware that if you choose to continue the conversation it will end in the three of you having a petty argument. You look at Hoseok as he leans down, placing a delicate kiss on your cheek, making the man witnessing the affectionate gesture scoff in annoyance. 
If he wants to say something he doesn't voice it instead he opens his leather bound notebook to a new page. 
Hoseok ignores him and stands up straight. “Are we still on tonight?” 
You nod. “I can't stay for long though I want to catch up on sleep.” 
“Fine then just one movie it is.” He winks before turning on his heels. Leaving you behind with the grumpy man. He looks up from his journal, opening his mouth, but you raise a hand to stop him. “It's different Namjoon.” 
Namjon clicks his tongue in annoyance and shrugs. “Whatever, let's just do one more world problem before calling it a day.” 
“Fine,” you huff, sliding your notebook in front of you and opening it to a clean page. 
Just one more day and you'll be free from this torture. 
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Hoseok's apartment is everything you expect from the maximest man. Just upon walking in you are hit with waves of bright colors. By the doorway there are different KAWS figurines that you can only imagine cost a fortune. Yet they greet you with their x'd out eyes as you remove your shoes. 
Then you have to pass by the Supreme beaded curtain to finally enter the living room. A bright red leather couch is settled in the middle. With wine colored pillows and a black throw blanket that you've adopted since the first night you spent in Hoseok's arms.
Abstract art lines the walls behind the television. There are more figurines lining the shelves in between books, records, and framed pictures of his friends and families. Along with a few miscellaneous items that he's told you he's obtained over the years.
His TV is huge. Takes up almost the whole wall, but your favorite to watch movies since he installed a surround system upon moving in years ago. 
You still remember the first night he invited you over. It was after spending two whole weeks texting non stop. He simply asked if you wanted to watch a movie with him and you thought why not. 
One night led to another and now another. It always starts the same. The two of you spend days teasing one another through text. Lewd texts along with pictures. You come over for a movie and then you end up underneath him. 
When it's over, he lets you use his shower while he orders takeout from the vegan restaurant a block down the road. And the two of you resume watching the movie as if neither of you were panting each other's names in pleasure. 
A simple arrangement with absolutely no strings attached.
It was what you were expecting when you came over tonight. Not that you don't mind the nights in which you do come over and nothing happens other than the deep hearted talks over a slow record playing in the background. But that wasn't happening either, because ever since you arrived at his doorstep, the overzealous man has been quiet. Biting the inside of his cheek and moving around you far enough to raise suspicion. 
It has your mind traveling back to the conversation that occurred in the afternoon. Was Hoseok having second thoughts? Or was there more to his actions than what you were picking up? 
“Hobi,” you whisper the minute he enters his living room with a bowl of popcorn stepping over your legs that were resting on his coffee table. He silently settles down next to you, on the other side of the couch with a gap wide enough to fit a person in between. 
Now you're more than positive that something is wrong. 
You groan, “I think I'll just go home then.” You mumble, pushing the throw blanket of your shoulders. 
This is enough to catch his attention. His eyes are wide behind his dark rimmed glasses and he sits up. “What why?” He tilts his head in confusion. 
A dry chuckle escapes your lips. “You obviously don't want me around, so I'll just go. I need to go to sleep early anyway.” You shrug, slipping your feet in his fuzzy slippers and swiftly start making your way to grab your stuff in his room. 
“No I–wait.” Finally, he speaks up, earning an eye roll from you that he can't see as your back is still turned. 
With haltered steps you spin on your heel to face him again, “What? You've been acting strange since I got here. So, if you don't want me around I will just go home.” 
At lightning speed he sets the bowl of popcorn on his coffee table, and stands up. He makes hasty steps towards you and when he is finally standing in front of you, he sets both of his hands on top of your shoulders. 
“Don't leave…I'm sorry.” Hoseok's eyes cast down past your face. They settle upon the graphic on your old washed out t-shirt. He takes a deep breath and looks up again. His face twists into something you can't decipher. It's a look you've never seen him wear, and it settles hard into your chest. 
He looks troubled, chewing on the inside of his cheek. His eyes dart to five different focal points. You know he's arguing with himself. When he finally looks at you in your eyes again. You can't help but shrink a little bit. 
His features have hardened, and you want to reach out to smooth over the little worry lines in the middle of his forehead. Guilt washes over you. 
For what? 
You don't know but you hope more than anything that you'll soon find out. 
“Can we talk?” He speaks up, letting his arms fall down, his knuckles brushing against your skin. 
For a second you think he's going to pull away. Retrieve into his body, but when he grabs your hands and laces his fingers with yours. The guilt in the pit of your stomach dissipates and you're left with confusion. 
When you don't answer his question, he repeats himself. This time differently, “I just think we need to talk, I've been thinking since this afternoon. I want to check up on you, and I guess us.” He clarifies, and now you're filled with a different kind of emotion. As much as you're relieved that you didn't do anything wrong per se. You are slightly annoyed that he couldn't just tell you that when you first arrived. Instead of ignoring you until you reached your breaking point. 
Frustrated, you say slowly, “Then just say that, instead of ignoring me.” 
Hoseok closes his eyes and sighs, nodding his head before speaking, “you're right I'm sorry. I just have a lot on my mind and I am not sure how to bring any of what I'm thinking about up.” 
“Hobi, just say it. We agreed on clear communication when we realized that this was going to be more than just a one night stand.” You sigh, beginning to walk in the direction of his couch, stringing him along. “Whatever is on your mind, just say it.” You push him onto his couch and take the seat next to him, your body fully facing his, and you fold your legs beneath you. 
He nods, running a hand down his face. “I don't think this is working anymore.” He whispers, eyes trained on his ceiling. 
Okay you were definitely not expecting that, but instead of voicing your surprise, you squeeze his hand. Encouraging him to continue. 
He does, “I think I'm slowly falling for you, well I don't know I'm confused about my feelings.” He whispers the end and falls quiet. 
As much as you want to run away and hide at his confession. He looks troubled and you wouldn't be a good friend if you just left him to wallow in his thoughts. No matter the pressure that has settled in your chest. Or the fact that your heart thinks you're running a marathon, making your ears feel like they're about to fall off too. 
With every passing moment you're finding that it's getting harder to breathe. You aren't dumb, the atmosphere has also changed, but it isn't because of his confession. It's because you are also a bit confused about your feelings.
You clear your throat, “W-What are you confused about?” 
He stops his staring game with the ceiling, shifting his whole body to finally face you. “Do you know why both Kook and Joon are so against us?” 
The question throws you off guard but you suppose it has to do with what he's going through. You do have an idea as to why your friends are raising a brow at your relationship. Jungkook’s warning the first day you met the barista is enough for you to get a rough idea of what they mean. But you want to hear it from him. 
Still you don't know if you can trust your voice so you shake your head. 
He continues, “I've never been in a relationship because I don't trust people to love me the way I know I can love them. So, I just sleep around, and when I get bored I break it off.” 
 “I know. They warned me about you when you immediately showed interest. And trust me I knew what I signed up for when we agreed to keep seeing each other. I don't expect anything more than what we are doing.” You tilt your head to the side.
“I know that's why I'm confused. At first that's all I expected and wanted. But then I don't know I feel so full and empty when I'm with you. I don't want you to leave when the night is over. You're the last thing I think about and the first thing I want to see. I've never felt this sure and comfortable with anyone ever, and I don't know what to do because we both know this isn't forever, your forever is with someone else, and so is mine. But for now I just want to be with you and know what it's like to fall in love and with you.” He takes a deep breath. “Even if it's just for a little bit. You know that next year I'll be leaving for that design school, and I'm sorry but nothing and no one is going to stop me. I've waited too long for this opportunity. I know I'm being selfish to ask you this, but can you please find it in your heart to let me be yours until then?” 
Hoseok finishes. And you're left to your own devices. To deal with your emotions as they spill out of you in hot tears. You've never had someone confess to you so passionately before. Actually nobody has ever bothered. And even though it's semi depressing you can't help but feel on cloud nine with all his words wrapping around you in the warmth that he radiates. 
Without thinking you kneel, and wrap your arms around his neck. “Okay let's do it.” You beam and he matches your smile. He leans in to kiss you but you place your hand over his mouth to stop him. 
Confusion plagues him like a bitter sting. You laugh, “But only if you agree that when everything is over there's no drama between us, and if I ever get married you have to design my wedding dress.” You remove your hand, and cradle his cheek, rub your thumb over his eyebrow. 
He chuckles, rolling his eyes. “You will get married.” 
“Nah, but it's okay. I've accepted my faith.” You shrug, resting your forehead against his. His hands come up your cheek, squishing them slightly.
“You will honey cakes, that's why I'm already planning your dress design in my head.” He wipes your forgotten tears, and tilts your head to the side. 
You feel your breathing get faster, as his heart shaped lips rest centimeters apart. “How are you so sure?” You whisper, swallowing thickly at the end. 
He smirks, with a glint in his eye. Like he knows something you don't, “because I know someone who is also falling for you but they’re to dumb to notice “ 
“Who?” 
“Secret,” he says before finally crashing his lips onto yours.
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Hoseok’s room is equally as loud as his living room. It’s a little more diluted with simple decorations and a huge abstract painting on the wall in front of his bed. His bed takes up most of his space, adoring a black duvet with black sheets. He has three pillows and two of those you’ve taken ownership of. His brown dresser holds little trinkets of things he buys or finds in the pockets of his pants. It’s also home to a series of designer colognes. Your favorite one was definitely Terre d'Hermes. Somehow the smell always fills with comfort. 
Your favorite part of his room–other than his bed–was his desk. They say you can tell a lot about a person by just looking at their work space. 
He’s a messy artist. His sketches are always thrown around, or pinned on the corkboard hanging over his desk. He has two bookshelves filled with sketchbooks and magazines. Sometimes if you’re lucky he will leave his sketchbooks open, awarding you with a small glance of his work. He has different notebooks for different magazine cutouts. Each one labeled something like, ‘street’ or ‘formal’ or ‘one-day.’ The latter always peaks your interest but you’ve never thought to ask. He has a thousand different sketching materials, and so many colorful markers. You just know that he was that kid in class with the sixty-four crayola back. 
He's passionate about his craft. A passion that shines through everything that he does. Especially when he’s sharing that passion with you. Now, as he lays you down onto his soft mattress. He kisses his way down your neck, slowly pushing your shirt up to reveal your stomach and the few stretch marks that appeared one day in your early adolescent years. 
For years it was hard to be intimate with someone in fear that they would disgust your partner. But the one thing you learned while growing up was that most men didn’t give a shit unless they were getting it. 
Yet Hoseok, your boyfriend, now. 
He cares. 
In a good way. The first time he saw you naked he almost came in his jeans. Your curves were all in the right places. You have enough skin to grip onto, and he loves all the marks and imperfections your body has. 
He couldn’t understand why you were so beautiful in the soft glow of his bedroom lights? Why he didn’t have the words to describe how his heart was literally beating against his ribcage?  Why for the first time in his casual dating experience he feared he wouldn't be able to give you the pleasure you deserved? 
So, that first night together, he took his time. Trying to get his thoughts under control. He painted your body with featherlight kisses. Determined to leave his trace imprinted in your body for however long you two would engage with each other. 
Everytime you came over. He did just that. He took his time, choreographing a dance with your body. It was a no-brainer that he had fallen for you. Something he knew shouldn’t have happened. He had plans for himself. He had a future mapped out since he was teenage. Though, he had the sneaking suspicion that you wouldn’t stop him from achieving his goals. That you would support him through everything. He should’ve stopped his feelings for you from growing. 
He kept them quiet until his portfolio got accepted. Until he saw the brief glances Namjoon gave you when he thought you weren’t looking. Perhaps it was the jealousy that made him confess. Or that his time with you was now limited. Whatever the reason was that led him to his confession, he only hoped that you felt the same. 
You giggle, the beautiful melodic sound grounds him as he wraps a calloused hand around your right breast, circling his thumb around the pebble. 
You're his girlfriend now. 
He, your boyfriend and he will bring down the moon for you tonight if you asked him too. 
“What’s so funny?” His curious stare meets your amused one. 
You had failed to keep your giggles at bay while he made out with you on his couch. He let a few of his own out when he had had enough of kissing and grinding in his living room, and guided you into his room. 
He loved the sound, and he loved that it was only because after months of dancing this tango you were still shy underneath him. 
“Nothing, it’s just that Mickey is staring at us.” You whisper gasping when he grinds his lower half against yours. Hoseok playfully rolls his eyes, reaching and turning around the newly added picture of his family dog on his bedside table. No more prying dog or human eyes around to interrupt the two of you. 
His attention returns to you. Gaze burning with lust as he leans down, pecking your lips lightly. “Can you stay over?” He says, kneading your breast again. The teasing touches were driving you insane. But this is how you preferred it. Slow and intense, tangling your body with his, until the two of you became one. 
“I’ll make an exception if you promise to drive me to my class tomorrow with a free coffee.” You smile, pushing your chest into his hand. 
He shook his head, reaching down to your lips. “Hustler.” He mumbles, capturing your mouth in a slow sensual kiss. “You got yourself a deal baby girl.” 
Your body shudders at the nickname. He only used it when it was just the two of you. He knew the effect it had on you. “Can I take your shirt off now?” He smirks. 
You let out a pleasurable sigh, nodding your head, before verbalizing a soft, “yes.” 
He pulls away, sitting back on his heels, peeling his shirt off before helping you with yours. He discards the two of them somewhere behind him. He pulls you towards him again, resting his forehead against yours. A bright smile adorning his perfect face. 
It makes your stomach crumble, knowing that from this moment on.
Hoseok would always be the one who got away. 
Your big “what if.” 
Your biggest treasure. Your safe place. Your blueprint for a future with someone else. The love story that was made to end. But one that burned so bright that would have you telling your future daughter to never be afraid of love. 
“Can we go slow today?” You run your hands down his torso, playing with the belt buckle of his expensive belt. 
“I’ll go at whatever pace you want me to go, baby girl.” He reassures,  his fingers play with the bra strap that had fallen down your shoulder. 
You tilt your head, looking at him with soft eyes. And he swears he feels himself melt. 
The next few minutes were a mess of soft kisses and clothes being discarded. Each article of clothing, landing with a soft ‘thud’ against his bedroom floor. You’re on cloud nine, his lips kiss down your neck, your collarbone. His hands part your thighs, baring your cunt to him. He sits back, mouth watering at how wet you are. He couldn’t wait for a taste. 
He could never wait. And he never did. 
He kisses your mound before wrapping his lips around your clit. He savors the sigh that escapes your mouth. He smirks when he immediately feels you grip his hair, pushing him further. Just like he couldn’t resist, you also couldn’t.
He sucked, distracting you from his finger circling around your entrance making you gasp in surprise when you feel him insert one. Slowly thrusting it as he licked you like a man who has been starved for weeks. 
“Hobi,” You sigh, pushing his head further. He fingers you faster until he feels you clench around him, and he stops, making you whine. 
“Please,” you plead. He chuckles against you, inserting another finger. This time he doesn’t give you time to adjust. You feel him thrust into you with no hesitation. His mouth sucking on your clit, swirling his tongue around it playing with the nub. 
You were withering, moaning his name, and anything your mind could conjure up in this moment. 
Overwhelmed with blissful pleasure, you grip his bed sheets, bucking your hips into his face. He groans, knowing you were on edge from how tight your grip on his head was now. And he did the one thing he knew would drive you insane. He slowed down, until he came to a complete stop. 
“Hoseok,” you groan, slamming your hand onto his comforter. He chuckles, lifting his head. Your body was flushed, your lips swollen, your hair splayed out around you. He loves bringing you to this moment. 
“You said you wanted slow.” He grins, taking his fingers out of your pussy. Loving the way it clenched over nothing now. Almost as if it was begging to be played with again. 
You roll your eyes, pouting. “Not this slow. I want to come.” You say, sitting up on your elbows. 
“Oh baby you will.” He winks, licking his fingers clean. He leans over, pecking your lips quickly. “You will come as many times as you want. But I want the first one to be around my cock tonight.” 
You gasp at his words. You knew his mouth was lethal but sometimes it still surprises you. The lust lacing with his soft timbre made you weak in the knees. 
“Fuck,” you whisper, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. 
The word ‘slow’ is forgotten from either of your vocabularies, while the two of you kiss hungrily. Sucking on tongues, teeth clashing, hands touching and clutching onto anything and everything. 
Hoseok lays you down on your side, climbing in behind you. His teeth nips at your bottom lip and he wrapped your leg around his hips. He kisses down your neck, while you help guide his cock to your entrance. He locks his eyes with yours as he slowly pushes himself in. His arms wrap around your torso, and he pushes you closer to his chest. 
Both of your heartbeats are in sync. Racing against the clock, basking in pleasure that you never want it to end. 
“Move please.” You say, lifting your face to kiss him. 
He begins to move his hips, making you gasp into each other's mouths. It’s a sloppy pace from the start but you don't care. You want more, so you met his thrusts halfway. One of his hands palms at your breast. He alternates between swallowing your moans and leaving his mark on anything he can get his lips on. 
“B-Baby.” He moans, resting his forehead on yours. “I’m close, are you?” He thrusts, letting out a low moan when he feels you clench around him.
He didn’t give you a minute to answer, before he was lifting your leg higher around his waist, allowing himself to reach the deepest part of you. “Touch yourself baby.” 
You moan his name, letting go of his hand, your finger meeting your clit, rubbing it in circles. Trying to keep up with his unrelenting pace. And soon you feel him still behind you, eyes shutting in pleasure as he spills himself inside of you. His orgasm triggers the coil in the pit of your stomach as you feel your release wash over you in a tidal wave, making you push his cock and cum out of you. His fingers frantically come down to meet yours as he helps you ride out your wave. He whispers praises against your skin while you come down.
Hoseok kisses your lips slowly, chuckling before whispering words that you will forever hold near and dear to your heart. 
“I love you.” He pushes your hair away from your face. “I love you so much to know that one day I’ll have to let you go.”
You giggle, turning in his arms, nuzzling your head into his neck. “I love you.” 
You feel him laugh, twinkling his fingers down your spine, “Let’s get matching tattoos.” 
You look up at him, raising a brow before shaking your head. “You just made me squirt, told me you loved me, and now you want to get matching tattoos?” 
“What better way to commemorate the best ego boost.” He shrugs. 
“You’re insane.” You untangle yourself from his embrace. You stand up, putting on his shirt. 
“I didn’t hear a no.” He says smugly, putting his arms underneath his head. 
“Because you’re an insane idiot who makes me agree to things like these.” You smile, before walking out of his room. 
“Great, I’ll make an appointment.” He shouts after you, “I love you.” He adds after a moment. 
You enter his kitchen, and turn on the lights. You can feel your smile take up your entire face. For a moment you realize that for the first time in a long time you felt happy. 
So yeah, maybe, things were finally looking up. 
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“You’re late.”
Namjoon says after taking a slow sip from his coffee. He looks at you from over the rim of his glasses. 
You roll your eyes, setting your bag down on the empty chair. “It's raining, and I forgot my umbrella. I had to wait for the rain to stop.”
“You could’ve texted to let me know.” He shrugs, setting his cup down on the coaster and flipping the page of his book. 
You sigh, before (gently) throwing your phone onto the table. “It’s dead. And before you ask, no I didn’t bring a charger. No, Jungkook wasn’t in class today so he couldn’t give me a charger, an umbrella, or a ride. Jimin is sick. And Taehyung doesn’t even go to our school. He's probably getting high with his new fling, so I wouldn’t have been able to ask him either.” You say, listing all the solutions he would’ve thought about in seconds. 
“Mhm,” he nods, closing his book. “And your boyfriend?”
Annoyed, you let out a whine, crossing your arms in front of you. “I don’t know, let me go downstairs and ask him. I’m sure he can stop managing a business to give me an umbrella.” 
Namjoon leans his elbows against the table. “Trouble in paradise?” He tilts his head, clasping his hands on top of his book. 
You shake your head, pulling out your chair and slumping down in it. “Hobi and I are fine. It’s not like he’s leaving in two months or anything.” You throw your hands up in exasperation. 
It’s month seven into your shining relationship with Hoseok, and you should’ve known that things would start to hit the fan sooner rather than Later. Your boyfriend was in the middle of the most tumultuous change of his life. Things were moving quickly and his time dedicated to you was bumped down his monstrous daily to-do list. 
Yet you couldn’t do or say anything because isn’t this what you signed up for? 
“Ah, so there is trouble.” Namjoon chuckles before opening his book again, setting his fancy leather bookmark aside. “This is exactly why I don’t do relationships, they just attract problems.” He adds, giving you a pointed look. 
You roll your eyes, “Shut up asshole, not all of us can be like you and Rina.” 
“Sure you can, it's simple just don't attach any strings to it.” He shrugs, underlining a sentence in his book. 
“Two people who have been only exclusively seeing each other for years literally the definition of strings attached. You can keep denying it all you want but she’s your girlfriend. You guys do all the couple-y stuff.” You grumble, leaning back in your chair, looking out of the window. The gloomy weather adds to your shitty mood. 
“She’s not, we are not dating, and I don’t need to talk about this with you again. Rina and I are on the same page.” He finishes, taking a long sip from his coffee.
“Well, how would you feel if Rina was spending time with another guy, completely ignoring your presence when you walk into her coffee shop all wet and angry because your professor basically told you your topic for your essay was shit.”
Namjoon smirks, leaning back in his chair. “Sounds like you’re jealous of Yuri.” 
“So what if I am?” You bite, “I understand that he’s training her to take over his position, but all he talks about is her and what he needs to teach her when we’re together. And whenever I come in they’re always laughing at something behind the coffee machine. And I know she’s nice and all but I would like his attention too.” You scoff. 
Namjoon hums, tapping his index finger against the table. “Do you trust him?” 
The question doesn’t catch you off guard, the obvious answer is on the tip of your tongue. But with how things have been going lately. You can’t help but hesitate. 
“I don’t know anymore.” You whisper looking down at your hands, turning the ring on your middle finger. “I know I should, and I do…I think I do. It’s just things have been so shit lately and I feel like a burden to him because of everything he has to do.” 
Namjoon lightly kicks your foot under the table, making you raise your head to meet his gaze. “I don’t know if I am being of much help, but he loves you. I know that whatever is happening he’s not doing it intentionally. Just talk to him about it.” 
If only it were that easy. 
“I’d love to but he never has time.” 
“Why not talk to him now then.” He says reaching into his bag to take out his cigarettes and lighter. 
“He’s busy downstairs with Yu–” 
“No, I’m not busy now.” 
You jump at the sound of your boyfriend's voice. You turn your head to look at him. A small tray with a mug of probably chamomile tea on top of it. His hair is shorter than the last time you saw him two days ago. He got a haircut and didn’t even tell you about it. That’s how low you have made it on his list. He can’t even send you a stupid picture of his new haircut. He can’t even send you a ‘goodmorning’ or ‘goodnight’ text. He also probably forgot that you were nervous for the meeting with your professor about your essay topic.
All these realizations make you want to roll into a ball and cry. You knew your time with Hoseok was limited. You just didn’t expect for the end to be so torturous. 
“That’s what I told her.” Namjoon speaks, narrowing his eyes at you for a second before turning his attention to his best friend. “She’s jealous of Yuri, because you’ve been spending too much time with her.” He shrugs, walking quickly to the stairs before you can bury him ten feet underground. 
You hear Hoseok let out a heavy sigh, and take the seat next to you. “Honeycakes,” he starts.
“Nice haircut.” You interrupt, slumping into your chair more. It earns another heavy sigh from the man sitting next to you. 
“Is Yuri the reason why you’ve been so upset lately?” He says placing a hand on top of your knee underneath the table. 
You let out a dry laugh before shaking your head. “No, it’s not her. It’s how you’ve been acting lately, it’s the time you’ve been spending with her. It's never having time for me anymore. It’s forgetting our date last week. It’s not even telling me that you got a haircut.” You finish, closing your fists to keep yourself from crying. 
Hoseok gives your thigh a squeeze before leaning back in his chair. “You know how things have been lately. I’m trying so hard to do everything I need to do. I don’t mean to be so dismissive but I can’t juggle everything at the same time.” 
You flick off a piece of lint from your jeans. “It’s nice to know that I’m just something you juggle around.” 
“That’s not what I meant. You knew what would happen when I started my application process. You said you understood.” 
“I did, or I thought I did Hoseok. I didn’t think I would become so secondary to you.” You sniffle. “I love that you’re chasing your dreams, but this is me trying to support you. I’m trying to understand how you’re feeling. But you stop me. You have shut me out and now I’m just something you remember sometimes.” You close your eyes, feeling the tears fall down your cheeks. 
The last thing you wanted was to be crying like this in public. 
“I-I want you to tell me when you’re having a hard time like you used to. I want you to feel like you can relax around me when we’re together. But every time we are together, we either argue, you don’t talk, or you talk about work, deadlines, or how you can’t wait to move. How do you think that makes me feel Hoseok?” 
Hoseok sighs, and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I’m sorry.” He kisses your temple. “I wish you would’ve told me earlier before it got to this point.” He whispers, rubbing your back, while you lean your head onto his shoulder. 
“But Hobi like you said, this is what I signed up for. This is what I agreed to.”  You add bitterly. 
“Yes Honeycakes, but you’re still my girlfriend. And I know that I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately, but I do care about you and I do love you.” He lifts your head from his shoulder. He gently grabs hold of your face, making you look at him. “Just like how you want me to talk to you when something is bothering me, I also want you to talk to me.” 
You close your head sighing, “You’re right, I’m sorry that I keep making things difficult.” 
He shakes his head. “You don’t. I’m the one that can’t seem to keep my girlfriend from doubting me. I’m the one who hasn’t told her how much I yearn to be in her presence at every waking moment.” He says, his thumbs wiping away your tears. “I love you, and I think that’s why I’ve been so avoidant lately. I know that our days are numbered and I would rather ignore the fact that I’m moving away soon than cherish the moments I get to spend with my family, my friends and you.” 
You nod, holding out your pinky out to him. “I promise to keep trying my best.” 
He hooks his pinky with yours bringing your laced fingers up to his lips. “I promise to keep trying my best too.” 
“I love you,” You whisper, letting go of his finger and wrapping your arms around his waist. 
His low laugh makes his chest vibrate against your head, “I love you.” He adds, rubbing soothing circles over your back. “Now, can you please drink your tea before you get a cold. I texted you earlier asking if you needed an umbrella but you didn’t answer. And now look at you coming in here all pouty and wet.”  
You raise your head to look at him, opening your mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the forgotten voice of your friend. “Her phone’s dead.” Namjoon throws his lighter onto the wooden table. 
Hoseok tsks shaking his head, reaching over to push the tray of your lukewarm tea closer to you. “I should’ve known. I knew you didn’t charge it last night, just like I knew that you left your umbrella at my place.” He pinches your cheek. “How did your meeting go?” 
“He basically said that I need to restart my essay topic over again.”
Hoseok laughs, bopping your nose with his own. “Well did he say those exact words?” 
“No but it was basically implied.”  You emphasize. 
“Fine, I’ll talk to your study partner if my baby isn’t being told that she’s a genius all the time, then what am I paying him for.” He jokes, which earns a glare from said study partner. 
“You’re not paying me, idiot.” Namjoon rolls his eyes, grabbing his brown leather messenger back and stuffing his cigarettes into the front pocket. 
He’s grateful that he came back to smiles and not tears. The stoicness of his actions makes the two of you laugh hard. Your laugh resonates longer in his mind. It always does. No matter how much he tries to deny it. You always resonate longer in his mind. But he pushes that fleeting thought aside. 
Namjoon is happy. 
His friends are happy. 
Things in his life were finally looking up. 
“I have to go, but don’t be late next time and charge your phone.” He says hoisting his bag onto his shoulders. 
You nod, saluting in his direction, before bursting out into a fit of giggles as Hoseok tickles your side. 
Namjoon doesn’t stay for longer than he needs to. He’s already running late to meet Rina, but he can’t hide the smile taking up his space.
He can’t help but feel proud that things were finally looking up for you too. 
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a/n: I hope you have enjoyed it. I will try not to be so MIA and upload a little more frequently rather than every 6 months haha. But my life has been pretty busy lately. In the past few months. I have moved to a different part of Seoul and I got a new job. I basically just hang out with my friends when I have free time haha. I also do dance class 3 times a week, and I started personal training last week. But I will try to manage my time better because I do miss writing and this story!
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getaandlucius · 18 days ago
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A brief taste of honey (an emperor Geta love story)
This is a story of two men, of rage, war and eventually: love. Inspired by Gladiator 2 characters Geta and Lucius.
Summary: Former emperor Geta survives but falls now under Lucius' regime. An unexpected story unfolds. Part 1
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Authors note: if the beginning of this part upsets you, please feel free to send me a request for a story evolving around our lovely Caracalla.
I also do realize this pairing is quite niche, so if you like to read more about them, please leave a comment or share!
Warnings: death, injury, mentioning of depression, severe stress.
Part 2 ( Part 1)
“Caracalla is dead.”
Lucius turned around. “Excuse me?”
“One of the watchmen killed him. By accident.” his guard told him, looking apologetic.
“What do you mean, by accident?” Lucius struggled to stay calm, though rage bubbled inside him.
“Caracalla had hidden one of his fibulae, sharpening it into a weapon to stab Marcus in the eye. He became positively feral!”
“Yes, I know that part,” Lucius replied impatiently. “But why was he killed?”
“Marcus elbowed him in the temple,” the guard admitted, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Too hard.”
“You fools,” Lucius muttered under his breath. “Where is Marcus?”
“At the healer. His eye was stabbed.”
“Yes, I fucking heard you the first time.” Lucius sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. He turned around and made his way toward the infirmary, wanting to have a word with the man.
Once he arrived, he immediately spotted him and strode over, his steps purposeful.
“This is bad, Marcus." He started. "How are we to show the people a new way forward—ways of fairness, law. Of order—when we can’t even control our temper?”
“It was self-defense,” Marcus argued.
“Was it now?”
“Yes.”
“But instead of going to the healer after you got stabbed, you waited until Caracalla was recaptured to elbow him in the temple?”
“...Quite right.”
“So, no self-defense at that point, then?”
“...No, Lucius.”
“Just vengeance?”
“Right.”
“Do you realize I now have to fabricate a believable story as to why Caracalla didn’t deserve a trial like the rest of them?”
“Yes." Marcus looked to the ground with his one good eye. "Just tell them Geta killed him.”
“Contrary to popular belief, that’s unlikely.”
“They don’t know that.”
“My people do.”
“Then tell them he killed himself. Out of despair after being defeated.” Lucius shook his head. These were all weak suggestions and he was starting to get frustrated. To his relief he spotted Ravi in the adjacient room of the healing quarters and made his way over to him.
"A word Ravi?" He pleaded in a low voice. Ravi nodded and took him to the back. Lucius explained his dilemma.
“Caracalla didn’t have long to live anyway, Lucius." Ravi comforted him. "He has been seriously ill both mentally and physically for quite some time now. The signs were already severe, the people know. Tell them he simply didn’t make it.”
Lucius listened in silence, then nodded. “Okay. I'll think about it.”
As he left, he wondered how Geta would react to the news of his brother’s death.
He didn’t have to wait long to find out. A few days later, Lucius overheard the guards whispering about Geta’s breakdown. They spoke in hushed tones, describing how he had become hysterical, repeatedly banging his head against a stone wall until he knocked himself unconscious.
The news left Lucius uneasy. Another dead brother would raise too many suspicions. While the majority of the populace supported him, he could not afford any more unrest or conflict.
“Send him to the healer,” Lucius ordered one of the guards. “And bring him to me after my assembly. I need to have a word with him.”
Later that evening he met with the temporay council. “I can’t have them both dead,” Lucius began the gathering. The council consisted of Ravi and two advisers far into their eighties, whose fathers had been connected to his grandfather, Marcus.
“Why not?” Augustus, one of the advisers asked, his pen drifting above a sheet of paper.
“We need to keep the peace.”
“Who is there to corrupt the peace? The people will follow your lead.”
“If you think there is no polarization among the populace, you’re gravely mistaken.” Lucius rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on.
The other adviser, Marius joined in. “Who are you talking about, Lucius?”
“Well, for one, the elite. The death of both Caracalla and Geta will alienate the senators and the military leaders previously assigned to the twins—they have a vested interest in maintaining the status quo. These groups rely on the existing imperial system to preserve their power, wealth, and influence.”
"He's right," Augustus agreed. "You risk provoking various factions within the elite, who may seize this opportunity to claim power for themselves. We're on the brink of a power vacuum here."
“But we all agreed the twins are not to be trusted!” Ravi jumped in, frustration apparent in his voice. “We agreed we were to put a stop to tyranny, and the simplest way is to execute them both." He stood up from his chair, facing Lucius. "I don’t condone killing for no reason, but this is a reason. A good reason. You’ll save thousands of lives and improve the lives of thousands more.”
“Yes. But Rome is not ready!" Lucius exclaimed, slamming his hands on the table. How could they be so ignorant? How could they not see there was more than their idealistic ideals?
“What do you suggest?” Marius asked, his tone mocking. “Keep him in our midst? Make him our friend and hope he won't get into a mood and murder us in our sleep?”
Lucius shook his head. “We’ll keep him imprisoned—but not in the dungeons." Lucius explained. "He’ll kill himself that way, if only out of spite after realizing we need him." He shook his head. "No. We’ll keep him locked up, but in one of the rooms in the east or south wing. We’ll let him acclimate, speak with him, and slowly introduce him as a symbol of peace to the elite while we begin implementing our ways. Once our reforms are set, we’ll put him on trial—a symbolic one—to show our modern way of thinking. Then we’ll exile him.”
“Exile him where?” Ravi asked.
“Somewhere he won’t be able to bother us any longer. Maybe Germania, somewhere up north.”
Ravi looked deep in thought. "I'll sleep on it." He responded after a moment. Lucius nodded. "Let's discuss this further tomorrow afternoon." He looked around the room, waiting for Augustus and Marius to approve, then excused himself and made his way to his private chambers.
Half an hour later came a soft knock at the door.
The doors opened, and Geta stumbled in. Bandages wrapped around his head, his skin was pale and translucent, and the dark circles under his eyes had deepened. But this time, his eyes weren’t empty, they burned with rage.
Even though their last encounter had been underwhelming, Lucius braced himself, not trusting those wild, unpredictable eyes.
Geta clenched his fists, his breathing uneven.
“He’s dead?”
Lucius nodded. “Yes.”
“How?”
“I’m sure the guards told you.”
“I want to hear it from you.”
“Brain injury.” Lucius cleared his throat. “If it’s any consolation, it wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“Don’t pretend you’re not relieved.” Geta spit out. “Everything you take from me...take, take, take. First my empire, then my freedom, and now my only family.” He took a step forward. “You leave me with nothing.” He sounded almost aggrieved, as though he still couldn’t believe it. He stared at his own empty hands. Then he brought a hand to his chest, struggling to steady his breath. He took another step toward Lucius, his eyes wide, his voice breaking. “Give me back my brother,” he demanded, as though he truly believed he could ask such a thing. That the gods could rewind time or restore the dead.
“I wish I could, believe me.”
“Liar. You filthy, disgusting liar.”
Lucius frowned at the insult but responded evenly. “For political reasons, this is bad enough as it is.” He pointed at Geta’s head. “Which is why I need you to stop smashing your head against walls and risking dying by accident.”
“Who says it would be an accident?" Geta argued. "I wouldn’t have minded if I’d died this morning.”
Lucius studied him for a long moment before nodding. “I believe that.”
“Then just kill me now.”
“No. You’re of use to the system,” Lucius replied, thinking it better to be honest with him.
“I’m to be your pet?”
“If you want to call it that, fine by me, but I prefer the term ‘asset.’”
“For what?”
“Keeping the peace.”
“All you think about is yourself,” Geta hissed venomously.
The irony of those words, coming from one of the most self-indulgent, greedy twins to ever exist, made Lucius chuckle softly.
Geta simply stared at him. Lucius shook his head and stepped closer. From up close, the toll of the past few days was even more apparent. The guards had warned him, but seeing it firsthand was far worse. Geta’s hollow cheeks, frail limbs, and the way he swayed on his feet made him look like he might pass out at any moment.
“You need to eat, Geta,” Lucius said, sighing.
“What if I won’t?”
“Then I’ll have to force-feed you.”
Geta didn’t reply. Lucius let his eyes sweep over Geta’s face.
“Aren’t you glad your brother isn’t alive anymore?” he asked carefully. Then he added, “He would’ve killed you in a heartbeat if it came to it.”
Suddenly, Lucius’s left ear went numb, and his cheek burned like fire. The world around him spun and it took him a moment to realize what had happened: Geta had backhanded him so hard, he nearly lost his footing.
“Don’t you dare ever say that to me again. Ever,” Geta growled.
Lucius rubbed the side of his head, the ringing in his ear replacing the silence. He stood there for a while, processing what had just happened, breathing heavily.
He shook his head. “Don’t do that again. You’ll regret it,” he warned, his gaze sharp as he searched Geta’s eyes. “Trust me on that.”
Geta glared back, still furious, but Lucius noted the grief behind the anger. He would have to tread carefully—men with nothing left to lose were the most dangerous.
Deep down, Geta must know Caracalla would have murdered him if it came to that. But the other way around? Perhaps not. That was food for thought, Lucius concluded.
They stood in silence for a while.
“I’ll arrange a new room for you, close to mine,” Lucius finally said, after the ringing in his ear had subsided. “I’ll assign a servant to ensure you eat and take care of yourself. And I’ll check in on you personally.”
Geta looked away, the fight draining out of him, leaving only sadness in its wake.
“I hope I’m dead by the time you check on me first,” he said, his voice hollow.
“I’ll see to it that you won’t be,” Lucius replied firmly.
“Well, don’t be surprised when your useful asset is no more,” Geta muttered.
Lucius looked at him, arms crossed. He wondered if Geta was being his usual dramatic self, or if he was truly a sincerely depressed man. Given Geta’s physical state, Lucius thought it might be developing into the latter. That was not good news.
Lucius clicked his tongue, then swayed the doors open and ordered the guards to take Geta back to his cell while his new confinement was being readied.
A few days later, a spacious room in the south wing was modified to hold a prisoner in confinement. Geta was moved from his old cell.
To be continued! Please do not share any of my work without my permission! Reblogs, likes and feedback are always welcome of course.
( Part 1)
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blueberrylixie · 1 year ago
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yes, professor
part one of the yes series
to read part two, yes, sir, click here !
professor changbin x fem! student reader 
word count: 9,903
content warnings: oral sex (m and f receiving), vaginal penetration, pussy job, fingering, overstimulation, unprotected sex, creampie (use protection kids!), professor kink, pet names (princess, angel, baby), light degradation (bin calls her a slut mostly), spanking with hand and a ruler, classroom sex.
let me know if i missed anything in this one-shot bc i tend to miss stuff! if you want to skip to the smut, scroll to the white heart divider!
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Your first day of your last year of college was already off to a bad start. 
Not only was it already eighty-eight degrees out at only ten in the morning, but you had tripped and fallen on your way out of your dorm, and skinned your knee. The cut still hurt like a bitch, even as you traipsed the fifteen minutes to your first class of the day. 
And that was really the cherry on top of this miserable summer day. You had to attend your first and only college math class. And you were absolute shit at math.
If you had your way, you wouldn’t be taking this course at all. Not only were you bad at the subject, but you hated it. You wanted to become a technical writer, which 90% of the time didn’t actually require you to know any math. Writing? Love. Science? Fine. Even history was passable, Cs get degrees and all that. But math, for lack of better words, was the bane of your existence. You even struggled to pass back in high school. 
So no one could blame you for putting off this class until practically the last second. You didn’t want this to be your very last course before graduation, because that would be absolute torture. So you buckled in to take it your fall semester instead.
And oh how you were regretting it. 
Now, you stood outside the classroom. The little window on the door was covered with white paper, so you couldn’t see inside. If you could, you would probably have run away. 
Instead, you steeled yourself, straightened your shoulders, took a deep breath, and pushed it open. 
You had arrived a few minutes early, a little later than you usually were to other classes. You had admittedly stalled back at your dorm for as long as possible, knowing what was in store. 
You took a seat in the second row, a few seats away from a quiet-looking guy with dark hair. You pulled a notebook and pencil out of your backpack, before looking up at the front of the room.
And that was when you saw him.
He was standing facing away from you, writing something on the chalkboard. He wasn’t very tall, but he was incredibly built. His broad shoulders flexed in that navy blue button-up as he wrote, and you couldn’t help but check him out. His movements were confident and sure, like he knew he belonged up there. 
You’d never had a hot professor before. Maybe that was about to change.
Of course, he could have an unattractive face, you reminded yourself. Or even worse, a shitty personality. Just because he was ripped didn’t mean he was hot.
Then, he turned around.
Dear God. Your heart rate picked up immediately, your chest contracting as you gazed upon him rapturously. You didn't want to look behind you to see if anyone else felt the same way. There was no way they didn't. 
His dark hair was styled casually, wavy bangs sweeping across his forehead. He had kind, intelligent, yet humorous eyes, adorned with thick-framed black glasses, and small but full lips. Your eyes kept zeroing in on them, and you found yourself wondering what they would feel like against yours.
You shook your head, instantly clearing that thought from your mind. You could not be imagining your professor in that way. Even if he was young, maybe five years older than you at the most. You could not think about him like that. You were terrible enough at math as it was, and you couldn't afford to get distracted.
But when he smiled at the class, your mind went blank, forgetting your little pep talk. God, how could a man look so fine by simply existing?
“Good morning, class,” he said, pointing up at the board. My name is-“
Seo Changbin. 
You read the two words, written in a rushed, messy scrawl. You almost mouthed his name, wanting to feel what it was like to say it. But you kept your mouth shut. 
“My name is Seo Changbin, and I’m your professor this semester,” he continued. “This is a mid-level calculus class, so if that’s not what you’re here for, then you should probably leave now.”
You inwardly sighed. Taking a mid-level math class when you hadn’t taken math in four years seemed dangerous. And honestly, in any other situation, you might have hopped up and left, off to find the easiest possible course the school offered.
But how could you pass up the chance to be around this absolute specimen of a man for an entire semester?
So you stayed put.
“Good.” Changbin moved his hair out of his face, and you watched with a fervor you never thought possible. If your friends could see you, they would call you a simp. For this man, hell yes you were. 
“Now, I’ll be coming around with the syllabus.” He held up a stack of papers. “We’ll go over it, and then jump into the first lesson. Don’t worry, it’s nothing crazy. Yet.” He smirked, and your breath stuttered in your throat. Every time you assumed he couldn’t get any hotter, he inevitably did.
He started making his way up and down the rows of students, handing them the small syllabus. He greeted a few who he must have known from a previous course, asking them how their summer was. 
So he was an attentive teacher, too. Dammit.
Finally, he reached you. When your eyes met, just the hint of a smile graced those perfect lips. You held his gaze, unable to look away. Your entire body was on fire, and you crossed your legs in what you hoped was a casual manner. 
For a split second, you could have sworn his eyes flicked up and down your body, once, checking you out. But it was so fast, you couldn’t tell. Your face was so hot, you couldn’t think straight.
“And what’s your name?” he asked, coming to a stop in front of you. 
As you introduced yourself, he took a step nearer, leaning down. He wasn’t even that close, but you instantly felt the need to pull him to you. You weren’t sure if he felt it too, but the energy between you was magnetic. 
“Are you new here?” he asked curiously. “I’ve never seen you in my class before.”
“No, I don’t usually take math classes,” you responded. “This is my first and only one, actually. I’m an English major, but it was required.”
“So you’re a senior?” he chuckled. “Waited till the last possible minute to join us, did you?”
You shrugged, embarrassment threatening to overwhelm you. But you didn’t let it show, simply shrugging and smiling at him. “Math isn’t my thing.”
“Well, hopefully I can change that,” he grinned, handing you a syllabus. “Welcome.”
As he started class, you became enthralled with how knowledgeable he was. While most everything went over your head, you found yourself wanting to understand what he was saying. You wanted to impress him, wanted him to be proud of you. So while you would usually space out and succumb to boredom, you actually read the syllabus in its entirety, and took vigorous notes. Even if it was boring, you wanted to hear every word that came out of Changbin’s mouth.
When class was over, and you were packing up, Changbin walked over to the desks, saying goodbye to some of the students. You ignored him, not wanting to come off as too eager.
“It was nice to meet you, Miss English Major,” Changbin said, and you looked up, shocked that he remembered anything about you.
You glowered at him, rolling your eyes playfully. “Is that all you’re going to refer to me as from now on?” you teased.
He shrugged, straightening his shirt and smiling. “Once I get to know you, I’m sure I’ll refer to you as something else. For now, have a good day, Miss English Major.”
——————————
Two weeks passed uneventfully. 
Changbin’s calculus class had started ramping up, and you were barely surviving. Everything was very confusing, and you found yourself blacking out for most of class just staring at your hot professor, instead of learning. All your other courses were a breeze, which left you tons of time to focus on failing to understand basic math. 
You and Changbin had continued to talk, a little bit every day after class. He would ask you about your other courses, mostly about writing and all kinds of grammar. He seemed genuinely interested in you and your life, which was so opposite from any other teacher. He even wanted to know about your personal life, like your family and friends. You told him everything. Except the fact that your friends were dying to meet your aforementioned “hot professor”. It felt nice knowing that he supported you, even if you were inevitably going to fail his class.
You fell into a nice groove, of sorts. You would act cool, funny, even effortless, to his face, and when you got back to your dorm, when none of your roommates were back yet, you would touch yourself to the thought of him. Fantasizing about his rough, strong hands holding your thighs open as he ate you out, or him caging you in between his huge arms as he pounded into you from behind. You couldn’t help it, you were infatuated by him. You wanted him, no matter how terrible you were doing in his class.
All that changed on the Monday of your third week.
“Next week, we’re having our first test,” Changbin announced as he stood at the front of the room. He turned on the projector to display a PowerPoint presentation with information about the test.
It would be thirty percent of your overall grade. One test?? Thirty percent??
You felt your mouth hanging open as you stared up at the screen, then down at Changbin. How could such a kind, handsome man do this to you? Was he trying to make you fail?
Changbin met your eyes, and a smile graced his lips. You snapped your mouth shut, feeling your face warm. He definitely just saw you gaping at him like a fish. Totally smooth.
“I know some of you may be worried, and some of you may not,” he said. “And if you’re one of the former, I would love for you to stay after class and talk to me about it. I know you all have the ability to pass this test. Every answer to every question is in your notes. Study those as hard as you can, and you’ll be more than fine.”
You could feel your heart rate picking up as you thought back on the dozens of pages of notes you’d taken over the past four classes. You couldn’t think  of anything that made sense. How were you supposed to take a test and pass? Let alone one that was worth so much of your grade?
For the rest of the lecture, you could scarcely pay attention as you continued to spiral. Clearly, you should have just taken a different class, hot teacher be damned. To be fair, you hadn’t expected the class to be this hard. 
As the class ended, you started packing up in a daze. You had a morphology course - one of your favorites - next, but you were thinking about skipping it so you could study for this test instead. Even a week straight of studying probably wouldn’t be enough for you to pass, so you needed all the time you could get.
You were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice someone calling your name, over and over again.
“Miss English Major! Miss!” Changbin finally called, and your head whipped around to face him, your cheeks warming at the nickname.
“I-sorry, what’s up?” You stumbled over your words, trying not to look completely flustered. From his look of understanding, you knew you had failed.
“Would you like to study with me tonight?” he asked gently, approaching your desk. 
“Ah, why would you think I need extra studying?” you asked quickly.
“I have eyes,” he said with a quiet laugh. “And you look like you’re about to pass out. Really, the test isn’t going to be hard. But like I said earlier, I’m more than willing to tutor any student who needs help. I have the time.”
You sighed. “Am I really that obvious? Or do I just look like an idiot?”
Changbin shrugged, moving so he stood in front of you. “I can tell you’re really smart. You just don’t believe in yourself. So… I’ll see you at six tonight? I’ll bring donuts?”
You relented, grinning. “If you bring glazed donuts, I’m in.”
“Are there any other kinds?” he winked. “See you tonight.”
Oh, you were so done for.
——————————
You arrived at 5:55pm, terrified of being late, or wasting Changbin’s time. You assumed he was so busy already, and you didn’t want him waiting on you.
Seeing as he wasn’t there yet, you just stood awkwardly at the side of the room, unsure if you should pull up a seat by his desk, or just wait for him.
He arrived a few minutes later, carrying a cardboard box from the campus donut shop. Your heart leaped when you saw him, dressed in a casual black t-shirt, zip-up hoodie, and jeans. He would have fit right in as a student. 
“Oh, you’re already here.” Changbin grinned at you, and your face heated. He was so hot when he smiled. 
“I’m always on time,” you pointed out.
“You’re always late to my class,” Changbin chuckled, shaking his head.
“Maybe it’s because I don’t like your class,” you countered.
“Ouch.” He came to sit at his desk. “Here, sit with me.” He motioned to the chair next to his. 
“So, what would you like more help with?” He asked when you got settled.
You sighed. “What don’t I need help with?”
He frowned, tilting his head. “Am I really that bad of a teacher?”
“No!” you said hurriedly. “Math just really isn’t my thing. I probably made a mistake taking a mid-level class. Everything is just really over my head. It’s not your fault.”
“Well, we can start from the beginning,” Changbin conceded. He glanced down at your notebook, which was covered in your neat but hurried scrawl, and even a few shitty doodles at the top of each page. “May I?” he asked, pointing at them.
You nodded, pushing them towards him. 
He took it, and flipped back to the beginning. “You’ve taken really thorough notes,” he complimented, and you blushed. At least you were doing something right.
“I’m trying to pay attention to you.” You smiled weakly.
Changbin started pointing at things in your notes, trying to explain them as thoroughly as possible. You had to admit, he was very good at dumbing down every concept, and even gave you examples of when they might be used in the real world. That tended to be your struggle with math. None of it made any practical sense, it was so abstract. At least with words, they always correlated to a real-world thing, or concept. Math was filled with what-ifs, and you hated that.
As he pointed at your notes, he moved closer and closer to you, his arm brushing yours. Your skin tingled from the touch, almost desperate to feel more of him. His arms were so firm, entirely made of muscle. Of course, you had known that from hours of staring at him. But being this close to him, getting to touch him, was intoxicating, making your mouth water. If only you could reach out and-
“Are you even listening to me?” Changbin’s voice snapped you out of your lusting. 
“Yes! I was just uhh…” you paused, unsure what to say.
He raised an eyebrow at you, pushing his glasses higher up his nose. 
“Ah, no I wasn’t. I’m sorry.” You ducked your head, unable to meet his gaze.
He turned his chair to face yours. “I’m sorry, this is all probably way too much all at once. I should have realized that,” he apologized. “Maybe we should take a five? Then we’ll get back into it.”
You brightened, nodding quickly. “Yeah, that would be great.”
He grinned, sitting back in his chair. “You’re nothing like my usual math students, you know.”
You raised your brows at him. “That sounds like a badly veiled insult, Professor Seo.”
His eyes darkened for a moment at the way you said his name, but he seemed to shake it off immediately. “No, it’s just an observation. You’re very different.”
“How?” Your eyes drifted over to the box of donuts, which sat untouched next to you.
He shook his head at you. “Because of stuff like that. You’re very easily distracted. Just have one, or I’ll never get your attention back.”
You smiled apologetically, before tearing the box open and grabbing a glazed donut. “I can’t believe you actually brought these for me.”
“For you??” Changbin exclaimed. “Nah, I wanted them. You were just an excuse. Pass one here.”
You glared, taking a bite. “Okay that’s rude. I would think you cared more about your struggling student.” You handed him a donut.
He laughed at that before taking a bite too. “Of course I care about you.”
You gazed into his eyes, watching the way his throat moved as he swallowed. Your eyes flickered back up to his, wondering if there might, just might, be a hidden meaning behind that. 
Before you could stop yourself, or fully process what you were doing, you felt yourself moving imperceptibly closer to him, like there was an invisible force pulling you. 
Your face was a mere foot away from his, your eyes remaining locked with his. “How else am I different from the others, Professor?”
He groaned, a low sound deep in his throat, and you saw a flame flicker to life in his eyes. A flame of desire, you wondered? Did he want you just as badly as you wanted him? Had he thought about you in the same way you thought about him? Your stomach twisted with desire, hot and potent. 
Your hand reached out to grip his thigh, desperate to touch him. But before you could make contact, his hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you.
“What-“ you began.
“We can’t do this,” he said. His voice was quiet, but firm. 
“What are you…?” you trailed off, your heart thudding so hard your head hurt. Was he rejecting you right now? After that almost animalistic noise came from him, just by making eye contact?  A noise that would most definitely be used to fuel your nightly desires? “But you were just flirting with me!”
“I was,” he paused, licking his lips. You wanted to know what that tongue tasted like. “But I can’t. You’re my student, and it was incredibly unprofessional of me. I’m sorry.”
You pulled your hand from his grip, moving your chair away from him, fighting to keep your voice steady. “Yes, you’re right. Let’s continue studying.”
“Okay.” Changbin nodded, picking up your notebook again. “Onto lesson two.”
You continued the study session for another hour, before bidding him farewell. He promised that he would continue to help you study for two hours every night, and you agreed. He also demanded that you take the rest of the donuts home, but you refused. It felt wrong, somehow, to take something from him. 
You walked back to your dorm, body burning with shame.
——————————
For the rest of the week, you dutifully attended each study session with Changbin, carefully avoiding any kind of physical closeness with him. You knew that if you got near him again, you wouldn’t be able to control yourself. 
Your thoughts were plagued by images of him. The way he smirked playfully at you when you got a question wrong, the glimmer of pride in his eyes when you got one right. His strong arms as he leaned over your notes, and his tight ass and muscular legs when he stood in front of the chalkboard to write every morning, or give lectures. 
No matter how hard you tried to ignore your growing feelings for him, you couldn’t help it. Every night, you found yourself desperately touching yourself to the thought of him doing unspeakable things to you, imagining it was him ravaging you instead of your vibrator. Him straddling you from above as he pounded into you with that thick cock, instead of your fingers. At this point, you knew it would never happen, but the forbidden, risky aspect turned you on even more.
Finally, the day of the test had arrived. Your heart had been racing with adrenaline. The night before, you had left this very classroom, saying goodnight to Changbin before cramming even more. 
“Good luck, Miss.” He’d smiled at you on your way out.
“Thanks, I’m really gonna need it,” you had replied.
“No you don’t,” Changbin said as you left.
The test had been shockingly easy. You weren’t sure if it was because Changbin purposely made the questions simpler than usual, or if his study sessions really had helped. But you whizzed through that test like never before. It gave you hope that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t absolute shit at math after all.
Now, Changbin was passing out the test results. You hoped your gut instinct that you’d done well was right.
He placed the test on your desk, shooting you a faint smile.
“Well done, Miss English Major,” he whispered, so quiet you could barely hear him.
You peeked at the top right corner, almost afraid of what it said. 
92%.
Your head whipped around to face Changbin, who was now a couple of desks down. 
Holy shit. Not only had you passed, but you passed with an A! How was that possible??
You wanted to run over to him and leap into his arms, but you had to hold yourself back. No one, including Changbin, wanted that.
You would wait until the end of class to celebrate.
As you packed up your bags, Changbin cleared his throat. 
You looked up to see him motioning you towards him. Of course, you couldn’t help but obey.
After the other students had left, you approached him, a huge smile plastered across your face.
“I passed!” you exclaimed, suddenly breathless. “I-I can’t believe it! Thank you.”
He shook his head, unable to hide his smile. “It was all you. You studied harder than I’ve ever seen any student do before. You earned it.”
Before you could stop yourself, you wrapped your arms around his midsection and hugged him.
“Seriously, thank you,” you said quietly. “I’ve never gotten an A on a math test, ever.”
Changbin laughed, and for a split second you thought he was going to hug you back. His arms raised to grab your waist, and your heart thudded in anticipation. You had thought about what it would feel like to be in Changbin’s arms countless times.
But instead, he pushed you away. His movements were gentle, respectful even, like he didn’t want to hurt your feelings.
It did quite the opposite. It stung more to know that he wasn’t an asshole who just wanted a girl's attention, but he thought he was doing the right thing in rejecting you for a second time.
“Well… thanks again,” you said lamely, moving away from him. “I’ll see you next week.”
You practically ran out of the room, tears stinging your eyes. You wouldn’t let yourself get hurt again.
——————————
Changbin stood at the front of his classroom, preparing for that day’s lesson. It was two months into the semester, and about time for another test. The last one had been almost a month and a half ago, and his students were beginning to get complacent. It was his job to make sure they didn’t get too comfortable.
It had also been about a month and a half since he’d properly talked to you. Ever since you had thanked him for all his help on that first math test, you had avoided him. 
He wished you wouldn’t. But you were right to. He would have done the same thing if roles were reversed.
He had rejected you, twice. Those glorious five days tutoring you were some of the best times he’d had in his entire three years as a professor. He’d never met someone half as bright, witty, or funny as you. 
Or as beautiful. 
Let’s be real, fucking sexy.
That first day of class, when he’d turned around and met your gaze, still stuck with him. Those curious yet guarded eyes of yours instantly drew him in, and he’d had to inwardly slap himself just to focus on his job. He’d never let anyone distract him from work before, let alone one of his students. He’d worked hard to get where he was, and ever since he got the job, he’d made a promise to himself never to date a student. From watching his colleagues, it never ended well.
And no one had ever made him question that promise. Until you.
Everything about you intoxicated him. The way you rolled your eyes at his cringey jokes, that little crease in your left eyebrow when you were focusing extra hard, the dimple on your left cheek when you smiled. Your determination to be good at whatever you put your mind to. And something he hadn’t expected: your desire to please him. 
In a strictly professional sense, of course. Or so he convinced himself. Until you two had almost kissed. And he’d told you no. That had to be in the top five of his stupidest moments, and he had a lot of those.
For that whole week, he’d found himself wishing that you would try again. He couldn’t stop thinking about you. When he went home to his empty apartment, he found solace in his hand, thoughts solely on you. About the way it would feel if it was your hand instead of his, gripping his shaft as you stroked him up and down, those nimble fingers knowing exactly where to place more pressure, where to be gentle. That pretty mouth of yours wrapped around him, taking his thick cock to the hilt. And he would cum to the thought of you, knowing that he couldn’t have you.
Even when you hugged him after the test, he still rebuffed your advances. Why? What the hell was wrong with him? He wanted you, you wanted him. It was legal, you were both adults. And yet, he had still rejected you. 
He still thought about you, obsessively so. The more he came to the fantasy of you, the more he became reliant on your presence, craved it, really. He looked forward to seeing you everyday in class, even if you didn’t speak a word to, or barely looked at him. But your beautiful self walking to his class by yourself, gave him a sense of security.
Today, he arrived at class, eagerly awaiting your presence. When he turned around to face the door, slightly concerned because even two minutes into class, you hadn’t arrived, his stomach quite literally dropped.
Because you weren’t alone. 
——————————
Hwang Hyunjin was the smoothest man alive.
You’d noticed him sitting a few seats away from you since the first day of class. He was incredibly smart, but tended to keep his mouth shut. He was always busy writing or drawing something on his notes instead of paying attention, and when you weren’t busy staring at Changbin, you found yourself watching him instead.
The two of you had been paired up for a class discussion, and he mentioned that he loved art. Being the creative that you were, you asked him what he liked to draw, and he showed you some of the doodles he did during class. They were good, really good. 
When he asked you out for coffee a month into the semester, you’d had no choice but to say yes. And you had a great time. 
It was clear that Changbin had no interest in you, so who could blame you for wanting to spend time with another hot guy? Who cared if you still thought about him in the privacy of your dorm, late at night? That was just a phase. Every college girl had a crush on her professor at some point, right? 
You and Hyunjin weren’t really seeing each other, it was casual. So you had never come to class together, or showed any sign that you were interested in each other.
Until today. 
Hyunjin had walked you to class, after treating you to coffee. You were even later than usual, but you found that you didn’t mind.
But when you walked into the classroom, and Hyunjin suddenly grabbed your hand, it was clear that someone minded. They minded a hell of a lot.
Changbin’s eyes seared into the two of you, his gaze roaming over both your and Hyunjin’s faces, before landing on your connected hands. His jaw clenched and unclenched, a vein ticking in his forehead, but he stayed quiet. His fists were pulled tight at his sides, those huge arms flexing in a most mesmerizing way. You couldn’t help but stare. Was there the potential that he was… jealous? 
Of you. Being with another guy.
Before you could think about it further, Changbin cleared his throat, and Hyunjin sat next to you for the first time that semester. 
You should feel giddy that this gorgeous man was sitting with you, but you couldn’t pay attention to anything, except your stud of a professor glaring at Hyunjin like he wanted him to disappear. 
“Today, we’re going to be discussing next week’s test,” Changbin ground out, his teeth gritted so hard you could hear them scraping against one another. “Mister Hwang, do you remember what our first unit after last month’s test was?”
Hyunjin paused next to you, brows furrowed. How was he supposed to remember what you’d learned over a month ago, off the top of his head?
“No Professor, I don’t,” he said evenly. “If I could just check my notes-“
“No, you may not,” Changbin snarled, his eyes narrowed as he stared Hyunjin down. “Clearly, you weren’t paying close enough attention.”
“Professor!” you exclaimed, blood pounding. Why was he targeting Hyunjin all of a sudden? You thought he liked Hyunjin.
“What?” Changbin sneered. “Trying to protect your boyfriend?”
“Just don’t.” You rolled your eyes, looking away from him. 
For the rest of the class, Changbin continued to pick on Hyunjin, calling on him for the hardest review questions, and actually laughing at him when he couldn’t remember.
Finally, when class was over, the two of you made to leave. 
“Miss, please stay behind,” Changbin practically growled, gaze hot on your back.
“Will you be okay?” Hyunjin asked, glancing between the two of you.
You nodded. “Yeah, don’t worry about me. I’ll see you later.”
Hyunjin followed the rest of the class out, casting one last look back at you.
🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍
You stood behind your desk, staring at Changbin. He stared back at you, expression unreadable. Was he upset? Of course he was. He wasn’t very good at hiding that during class. 
He walked to the door and slammed it shut, the force startling you. But when he clicked the lock in place, your chest seized up. What was he doing? 
“Come here.” His voice was soft, yet you could hear him clearly. His face looked calm, but you could see the fire in his eyes as he gazed at you. Your breath caught in your throat as you wordlessly obeyed, coming to stand in front of him.
Was this really going to happen? Was he-
Before you could formulate a proper prediction, his lips were on yours. His hands fumbled at your waist with a desperation you didn’t expect, even in your dirtiest fantasies. He picked you up, grabbing your ass roughly as his plush lips forced your mouth open, sucking and biting with enough pressure that would leave marks in the morning. 
“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Changbin growled against you between kisses. Your hands slid into his hair, clinging to him as you kissed him back with equal strength. 
“What took you so damn long?” you gasped, pressing your tongue into his mouth and rolling your hips against him.
He groaned, the sound low and guttural, before setting you on his desk as gently as he could. He slid a finger under your tank top strap, pushing it down slowly, his gaze devouring your skin rapturously.
“I’ve been so good, so in control,” he breathed as if you were torturing him, his mouth coming to land against the shell of your ear. You shivered at the sensation. “Until today, when you decided to bring that poor Hwang boy along with you. What are you, boyfriend and girlfriend?”
You shook your head quickly. “N-no, it’s casual,” your voice shook despite yourself. “We’ve just been hanging out.”
“You like that he’s willing to give you attention when I wouldn’t?” He leaned down, nipping at your shoulder and collarbone. “Has he fucked you?”
You moaned softly, closing your eyes. “No, of course not,” you whispered. “And even if he had, why would you give a shit? I made a move on you, and you fucking rejected me, twice!”
Changbin let go of you, stepping back. For the first time, he looked embarrassed. Good, as he should. 
“I'm sorry, Princess.” He slid a hand down your arm, skating his fingers across your skin. “I thought I was making the right decision. But… I want you all to myself. Is that so bad?”
You glared at him. But no matter how long you tried to play hard to get, you knew damn well how this was going to end. You needed him too badly.
“Well, you better prove how much you want me, then.”
His mouth curled into a smirk, and your core dampened at the sight. “I thought you’d never ask.”
He pushed you back against his desk, shoving your legs apart, before tugging your denim shorts down your legs and ripping your panties clean in half.
“Changbin!” you gasped. Those were your nice panties, too.
“What? You won’t be needing them,” he smirked, holding them to his nose and inhaling a hungry breath, before tossing them away. “And from now on, you will call me Professor, not Changbin.”
You gaped at him for a moment, before you realized he was watching you expectantly.
“Y-yes… Professor,” you said weakly.
He smiled, kissing your cheek in an uncharacteristically tender way. “That’s my good girl. Now I’ll make you feel the best you’ve ever felt.”
He traveled down the length of your body, pressing kisses to your bare thighs as he went, admiring every inch of you. Your breaths came in short gasps as you laid in anticipation. You didn’t know much, but you were sure that Changbin was experienced when it came to sex.
As he gazed in appreciation at your soaked cunt, he tore his glasses off and set them on the desk, licking his lips. “Gonna need to get close and personal, huh Princess?”
Oh yeah, he was most definitely experienced. 
But nothing could prepare you for the sensation of Changbin’s tongue against your center. He pressed his mouth flat against your clit, swiping his tongue up and down in broad strokes. He covered your entire pussy with his warm, wet mouth before sucking and licking in earnest. 
“Holy shit, yes,” you gasped, your eyes widening as your hips jerked up against his movements.
He grabbed your waist to stop you, his tongue fucking in and out of your cunt as his lips pressed against the sensitive nerves above it. You moaned, your hand finding purchase in his hair as your vision sparked in and out, stars flashing before your eyes.
“Fuck, faster, please,” you begged, tugging his hair as you tried to pull him closer.
“What’s my name again, Princess?” he rasped against your core, his voice interrupted by his continued slurping. 
“P-professor, please,” you whimpered, gazing at him with wide, pleading eyes.
“Fuck, how could I say no to you, Princess,” he snarled against you, yanking your legs open even further as his tongue moved impossibly faster, two of his fingers sliding into your pussy, adding even more squelching sounds to the mix.
The addition of his fingers nearly sent you spinning over the edge, your free hand gripping the side of his desk as your legs shook, your thighs trying to squeeze his head.
“Stay nice and spread for me, Angel,” he sucked hard on your clit, and you sobbed his name over and over, clutching at him like your life depended on it, your entire body vibrating.
“Professor, I-I’m gonna cum, please let me cum!” you begged, squeezing your eyes shut as you ground your hips up against him, this time Changbin allowing you.
“Cum for me, Princess, let me hear you,” Changbin ordered, pressing his tongue in just the right way against your throbbing pussy.
With a strangled cry, you rode out your orgasm against his mouth and fingers as he thrusted them in harder and harder, working you through your release as you crested the peak and came tumbling over, your whole body falling onto the desk in a trembling, sobbing mess.
“Was that good enough for you, Princess?” Changbin licked his lips as he gazed at you smugly, coming to his feet and gazing down at you.
You rolled your eyes, standing up to meet his eyes properly. “It was amazing, Professor,” you murmured against his lips, before kissing him forcefully. The taste of you lingered on his lips.
He kissed you back hungrily, his fingers traveling back between your legs to rub your clit gently, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You licked his bottom lip, grinding against his fingers as you moaned into him. 
“Let me return the favor,” you whispered, pushing him against the desk this time, before kneeling in front of him.
“Let’s just hope you’re better with your mouth than you are at math,” Changbin teased. But you could see the desire flaming in his gaze as he caressed your hair with a rough hand, fully pushing you down onto the floor.
“You don’t have to worry about that, Professor,” you said sweetly, and he groaned, eyes flickering shut.
“No more dawdling Angel, open up.”
You unzipped his black work pants, tugging them down to his knees. Even with his dark gray boxers on, you could tell he was huge, and already hard. Pulling his underwear off, his cock sprang free, angry and red, leaking precum.
Your eyes widened, and Changbin kicked his pants to the side, smirking down at you. 
“Big enough for you, Princess?”
“Perfect, Professor,” you breathed, gripping the base with one hand.
“Ah shit,” Changbin gritted his teeth, his hand already tangled in your hair. “Don’t make me wait too long, Princess. I’ve already been waiting for months.”
You giggled softly, sticking your tongue out and kitten licking the pretty pink tip. He was quite thick, so thick that your hand could barely fit around him. He was about seven inches long, with a pretty vein running along the right side. Your core throbbed at the sight, imagining how well he would fill you up. 
“Fuck,” he snarled, thrusting into your hand impatiently, a bead of precum dribbling onto your skin. “Are you asking me to punish you, Princess?”
You felt your core clench at his words, and you almost hoped he would just flip you over and spank you for disobeying him.
But that could happen later. Instead, you slid his entire length into your mouth, taking him so deep your nose hit his hips. Coarse brown hair tickled your face, and you shut your eyes. 
“Holy-“ Changbin choked out as you began sucking hard and fast, using your hand to rub the base where your mouth couldn’t reach. Your saliva instantly became sloppy, running down his cock and onto his waist.
“Oh fuck yeah, just like that,” he grunted, tugging your hair roughly as he thrust his hips against you, driving his cock further into your mouth. “I bet you just love being my little cockslut, don’t you Princess? You like me using you like this.”
“Mm,” you moaned, sending vibrations up his cock. He shuddered at the sensation, his huge, muscular legs flexing next to you. One of your hands gripped his thigh, the other squeezing his taut ass as you fucked your mouth up and down on him so he didn’t even have to move.
“Oh shit, you do know what you’re doing, don’t you, Slut?” He ran his hand through your hair, and you felt a tinge of pride shoot through you. A thin line of tears dotted your lash line and your jaw hurt, but you didn’t care. He was impressed with you, and that was all that mattered. 
“Only for you, Professor,” you gasped as you took a quick breath, before sliding him back into your mouth. Your hands moved to cup his balls, and he growled, loud and animalistic, against you.
“Fuck Angel, you’re such a good girl for your professor, aren’t you?” he moaned, pulling your hair into two makeshift ponytails as he started fucking against you in earnest.
You started to choke on his harsh ministrations, but you didn’t want him to stop. Your core was so wet, arousal was dripping onto the ground. 
“I’m gonna cum, Princess,” Changbin growled, as his hips stilled. “But I don’t want to cum in your mouth. I want to breed that little pussy of yours. How does that sound?”
“I-it sounds amazing, Professor,” you breathed as you pulled his rock-hard cock out of your mouth.
He grinned, yanking you into another bruising kiss. “That’s my good little Cockslut,” he murmured, picking you up and setting you back on the desk. “This is exactly how I imagined fucking you for the first time. You look so beautiful lying there, all wet and ready for me.”
You whimpered softly, shooting a seductively innocent look at him.
“Fuck, do you know what you do to me, Angel?” He closed his eyes, his body trembling at the sight before him. “Even better than my imagination.”
“You’ve thought about me, Professor?” you said faux-shyly, grabbing his hand and placing it against your core.
“Of course I have, Princess,” Changbin chuckled, opening his eyes again as his fingers roamed over your clit gently. You shivered at his touch. “Who wouldn’t think about ruining a perfect girl like you?”
“I'm not a virgin, Professor,” you pointed out. 
“I know, but you’re perfect,” he responded, stepping closer. “Just look at you.”
“Professor?” you asked softly, gazing at him. “Can I ask just one thing?”
“Anything.”
“Can you take your shirt off?”
Changbin’s eyes flickered in amusement. “Do you like my body, Princess?”
You nodded vigorously. “I love your body. I think about it all the time.”
“I like the sound of that,” he murmured, leaning over and pressing harsh kisses against your neck. “What do you think about?”
“Fuck me, then I’ll tell you,” you breathed against him, starting to undo his shirt buttons.
He tugged the shirt over his head hurriedly, before coming to hover over you again, those perfect, muscular arms of your dreams caging you in. You whimpered at the sensation alone, pulling him closer to you so you could grab his cock, stroking him a few times.
“Fuck yes, Princess,” Changbin choked out, before lining himself up outside of your core. “I need to be inside you right now.”
“I need you inside me too, Professor,” you begged, moving your hips back and forth against his hard cock, wet squelching sounds ensuing as his cock rubbed through your slit. You threw your head back at the overwhelming sensation, moaning into his shoulder.
“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he pulled your face up and kissed you once. Then, screwing up his eyes, he slid his entire cock into you in one harsh thrust.
“O-oh shit!” you cried, eyes widening and hands coming to grab his broad shoulders. He filled you perfectly, his girth stretching you deliciously, that vein rubbing against your walls just right. “Fuck Professor, you feel so good inside me.”
“God, you feel heavenly Princess,” he croaked, his voice hoarse. “Can I move? Please, tell me I can move.”
“Please move, now,” you gasped, fingernails digging into his back. “Don't be gentle with me, Professor. I can take it.”
“Yeah? We’ll see about that, Angel.” Before you could say anything else, he pulled all the way out, leaving you feeling incredibly empty, before thrusting back in with all his strength. 
You squealed, fingers scrambling for purchase against him, as he pounded in and out of your tight, wet pussy over and over, filthy noises filling the classroom. 
You whimpered against his neck, pressing harsh kisses against him as he thrusted in and out, balls slapping your pussy as he went harder and faster. His cock slammed against the spongy part inside of you, causing you to cry out and clench around him.
“Ah shit, Princess, ease up a bit!” he grunted, nipping your neck as his hips stuttered against yours.
“Y-you just feel so good,” you sobbed. “Please fuck me harder, don’t stop, please, Professor.”
Changbin listened, continuing to hit that sensitive spot over and over again until you were a babbling mess, unable to say anything except “Professor”.
“Fuck baby, can you stand?” Changbin demanded into your ear.
“Y-yes Professor,” you breathed, and before you could stop him, he was carrying you over to the chalkboard, and setting you down, so your face was towards the board, ass presented to him.
“Well shit, don't you look like a treat,” he whispered, slapping your ass with a calloused hand, before trapping you between his arms once more, his mouth against your neck. 
You gasped at the stinging sensation of his hand against your skin, but it wasn't fully because of the pain. Him slapping you felt good. What did you have to do for him to do it again?
His fingers traveled between your legs again, feeling the dripping wetness that gathered there. You felt him smirk against you.
“Did my Princess like it when I spanked her? Does she like it when she gets punished?”
You nodded vigorously, closing your eyes. Was he going to think you were disgusting for liking something so violent? 
Changbin started chuckling, and you glanced back at him. Did he find this funny?
“I might have underestimated you, Sweetheart,” his hands traveled up to your breasts and squeezed, making you squeal. “I guess you were right. You’re more of a whore than I thought.”
“N-no Professor, I’m a good girl,” you gasped, rubbing your ass against him as you begged for him to hit you again. “I just need you so bad, please.”
“You want me to hit you again?” Changbin snickered. “Okay, I can hit you again. Anything for my princess.”
He stepped away from you, leaving your skin cold. You missed his hulking presence warming you, his huge arms caging your body. 
You watched with wide eyes as he stepped back to his desk and picked something up. What was he doing? He couldn’t leave you hanging like this.
But when you saw what he had in his hand, you knew he very much was not leaving you hanging. He was just getting started.
“A ruler?” you said softly, staring at the wood strip in his hand. Your core pulsed at the sight, causing more arousal to slide down your thigh. Fuck, you wanted it.
“You said you wanted to get slapped, didn’t you, Princess?” he challenged.
You nodded, trying to hide your desire. If Changbin saw how much you needed this, he might deny you.
“Yes, Professor,” you responded, not moving from your position at the chalkboard.
“Good, Angel,” he approached you with a satisfied grin on his face. “So, are you ready for your test?”
“Test?!” you squeaked. You hadn’t expected that. You’d hoped he would just slap you with the ruler a few times, then fuck you silly.
“You’re going to have a math test in a few weeks, aren’t you?” He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you want me to tutor you still?”
You nodded furiously. You would fail without him.
“Well, consider this our first session.” He came to stand behind you, running the ruler up and down your thigh a few times. 
You shivered despite yourself. You would do anything he wanted at this point.
“So, answer this problem, Princess. The axes of two right circular cylinders of radius A intersect at a right angle. Find the volume of the solid of intersection of the cylinders.”
You gasped at him, speechless. You had no idea what any of that meant. Solid of intersection? You were an English major, for god’s sake!
“I-I don’t know Professor!” you whispered, body quivering as you waited for his response.
Changbin tutted quietly, pacing back and forth behind you. You tried to watch him, but he kept going in and out of your line of sight.
“What a shame.” His voice was dangerously low. 
Suddenly, the ruler came slashing through the air, landing across the center of your ass. You let out a loud gasp, covering your mouth before you could curse or yell. 
“Chang- Professor, what the hell?” you exclaimed, whipping around to face him.
“Did that stir up any potential answers?” Changbin said smoothly, ignoring your protest. “Please turn back around, Angel. We're not done yet.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but you caught that steely look in his eyes, and obeyed. 
“Well?” he prompted. “Anything?”
“N-no, Professor,” you said meekly. “We haven’t learned anything half that difficult yet.”
This time, as the ruler made contact with your ass again, you were prepared. You bit your lip so hard it almost drew blood, but you had to admit, it felt… nice. The stinging sensation it left after the pain was gone was incredible. 
“Fine, if you can't come up with even a guess, how about this. What is the mathematical perception of the gradient said to be?”
You paused, thinking the question over. You knew Changbin had talked about this in a lesson at some point, but it had been a while ago…
“Is it tangent?” you said with a little smile. You knew the answer was wrong but… you also didn't mind.
“I’m sorry, Princess,” Changbin grinned, and the stinging pain of the ruler raced across your skin.
You let out a stifled moan, squeezing your eyes shut as hard as you could. Oh god, did Changbin hear that? He was going to think you were such a whore.
Changbin set the ruler down on his desk and slid a hand around your waist, breaths coming hard and fast against your neck. You whimpered softly, unable to look back at him. 
“I knew you liked that, you little Pain Slut,” he snarled into your ear, nipping the lobe. “You're my little Pain Slut, aren’t you?”
“Y-yes, only yours!” you exclaimed. “P-please Professor, fuck me again.”
“Mm, you're just insatiable aren’t you?” he snickered, his hand coming down onto your ass cheek, sharp and hard. “Now say thank you, Professor.”
You cried out, your core soaking wet. “Th-thank you Professor!” You forced out through the blinding pleasure.
His hand came down on your other cheek. “Again.”
“Thank you, Professor!” you moaned, turning your face to him and pressing your lips against his. 
He didn't pull away, as the hand he used to spank you wound around your leg, lifting it up so your body was still facing the chalkboard, but your lips were attached to his. 
“I’m gonna fuck you like this now, Angel, down and dirty. I’ll bet you like it like this, don't you? Seducing your poor professor, and letting him have his way with you in his classroom. That's exactly what you wanted, wasn't it?”
“No, I didn't mean to seduce you,” you mumbled against his mouth, as he positioned his hard, heavy cock outside your entrance. “You're just so hot and smart, and I wanted you so bad. But you kept rejecting me so I gave up, remember?”
“How do I know that little boyfriend wasn't just part of your plan to get me to change my mind?” Changbin challenged, finally breaking the kiss. 
“Well, if it was, it worked, didn't it?” You teased him. “Now are you going to fuck me or not?”
Changbin growled deep in his throat, thrusting his hips slowly against you, running his cock through your wet folds. “I’ll fuck you when I’m ready to fuck you, Princess. Not sure you deserve it, with all the stunts you’ve pulled. And you didn't even get that easy math problem right.”
You giggled softly. “If I get it right, will you fuck me properly? Nice and rough?”
He paused, like he was pondering the question. “Sure, Angel. What’s the right answer?”
You turned around, pressing your lips against his ear gently. You watched in satisfaction as he shivered. Thank god he was holding your leg up, or you would be numb by now. “It’s the slope,” you whispered to him, lips curling in a smile. You knew you were right.
“Mm, you knew the right answer the whole time, didnt you, Slut?” Changbin shook his head at you, a hungry glint in his eyes. “But you were a good girl, listening to your Professor so well. So I guess you get a reward.”
“Yes please, Professor.” You immediately started begging at the prospect of his cock inside of you. “Please fuck me now.”
“It takes a lot of self control to stay away from you,” Changbin groaned. “Self control that I clearly do not have.” 
This time, he thrusted into you nice and slow, one inch at a time. You gasped loudly as he shoved you up against the chalkboard, still holding your leg up, as he began pounding in and out of you mercilessly. 
“Fuck, this pussy was made for me, Angel,” he hissed into your hair, breathing deeply as he did so. “So tight and wet, squeezing me perfectly. You hear that? This pussy is all mine.”
“Yes, it’s all yours,” you wailed, fucking your hips back against his, forcing his cock to impale you to the hilt. “You feel so good inside of me, Professor.”
“Mm, hell yeah I do baby.” His huge arm wrapped all the way around your waist, trapping you entirely as he hammered in and out, the lewd sounds of his length thrusting turning you on even more.
“Fuck, Professor please touch me!” you begged, grabbing his arm that was holding your leg up and sliding it towards your clit. 
“You’re such a greedy little girl, aren’t you?” he sneered, pressing rough kisses up and down your collarbone, sucking harsh bruises along your soft skin. “I can’t deny you though, can I?”
His fingers slid over your sensitive nerves and rubbed in rushed, frantic circles as his hips pounded against yours, causing the entire chalkboard to shake and rattle. 
“O-oh yes Professor just like that,” you panted, your legs nearly failing as he turned your entire body to jelly. 
“Don't give up on me now, Princess,” Changbin warned as he spun you around and picked you up, not removing his cock from your throbbing pussy. “You don’t cum until I do, you hear?”
“Of course, Professor,” you whimpered helplessly, the new position hitting spots inside of you you hadn’t known even existed. “Please go harder!”
“Just for you, baby,” Changbin ground out, and he started bouncing you up and down on his huge length.
The vein on his cock slid against your nerves addictively as you wrapped your shaking legs around his waist, clinging to his beefy arms desperately. Your core throbbed as you tried to be a good girl and hold your orgasm back, but it was coming.
“Please Professor, let me cum!” you pleaded, pressing kisses up and down his huge pecs, sobbing into his chest. “I’m so close, I’ve been so good!”
Changbin grunted against you as he bullied his cock deeper and deeper into your cunt, hitting your g-spot over and over while you pleaded incoherently to please, please let you cum.
“Shit, okay, cum for me baby,” he hissed.
You didn't need to be asked twice. Your hips shook against him so violently you thought you were going to pass out. Stars blinked in and out of your vision as you cried, “Professor, please!” once, your pussy clenching around his cock like a vice, as he pounded his cock infinitely faster. His fingers pressed against your clit, and you were done for. You exploded around him in a puddle of whimpers and moans, clutching onto him for dear life.
“Holy shit baby, you’re so fucking hot,” Changbin panted, squeezing his eyes shut, his thrusts becoming more jerky and unstable. “I’m so fuckin’ close, Princess, gonna cum inside that slutty little pussy of yours, yeah?”
“Oh fuck, please give me your cum Professor!” you begged, moving your hips in time with his. “Want you to breed me like the good girl I am!”
“Fuck Angel, you really want it?” Changbin hissed, his hips stuttering as his lips smashed up against yours again. “You wanna feel my hot cum inside you?”
“Yes Professor, please, I need it,” you breathed against his mouth, biting his bottom lip and sucking it into your mouth. 
Changbin thrusted sloppily in and out a few more times, his breaths stilted and hoarse, before halting entirely inside of you. You felt his warm cum fill your pussy, ropes and ropes of hot, sticky liquid, and you let out a shaky moan, closing your eyes at the sensation.
As he was about to put you down and pull out, you shook your head, gripping his arms.
“P-please, stay inside.” Your legs tightened around his waist. His softening cock felt so good, keeping his warm cum inside you. You didn’t want him to let go, not yet.
“You like me cockwarming you, Princess?” Changbin’s cock stiffened at your actions, and you nodded.
“You feel so good inside of me,” you sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“I bet I do,” he said cockily, and you slapped his arm.
“Way to ruin the moment, Changbin,” you glared.
He laughed, finally letting go of you and setting you back on the ground. 
“I'm kidding, baby.” He pressed his lips against yours, much more tender this time. You melted against him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close. 
“I like the confidence.” You giggled against his lips, before breaking apart. “I should probably go. I've got another class in an hour, and I don’t want to walk in looking like this.”
“I wouldn't want that either,” Changbin observed. “You might get dress-coded. Or arrested.”
When you were both dressed and semi-cleaned up, you waved goodbye to Changbin.
Changbin waved back, a little smirk on that handsome face of his. 
“So, we on for another study session tonight?”
You smirked, biting your bottom lip before replying: “Yes, Professor.”
laska's note — wow, this one shot took me forever to finally finish! but i wanted it to be perfect you y'all, so i spent a long time figuring out the plot and exactly how i wanted everything to go. i really hope you enjoyed it, because i'm kinda proud of how this turned out. i'm sorry for the slow ass updates, but again it's just supposed to be for fun! hopefully i'll get some more content out soon. leave any comments about what you liked, i love reading them! until next time... 😏💋
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ripleyresonance · 7 months ago
Text
Out of my Control
Rhea Ripley x OC
Leah has always had her life together and is always in control. But when she meets Rhea Ripley maybe letting go sometimes isn't so bad after all.
Word count: 5936
Warnings: Cursing, Spanking, Gagging, Spit, Countdown, A little bit of angst.
Leah had a very particular routine. Every morning she would wake up at 5:00 am sharp. From 5 to 5:15 she would open the New York Times on her phone and catch up on current events. After that, she would take a shower. Cold, of course, to wake her up a bit more. She would make an English muffin lightly toasted with butter and a glass of cold brew with a splash of her favorite oat milk-based creamer. She was out the door to go to work at 7:00 to arrive at the office by 8:00. 
People at work respected her. Everyone would acknowledge her and wish her a good morning or afternoon when she walked by. She always was the best dressed and everything at her desk was arranged to make her work day more efficient. Needless to say, she was in control. And she loved it that way. But in her romantic life, she wanted the opposite. She wanted to let go and have someone else make her decisions. She wanted them to pick the restaurant. Pick the time – hell, sometimes she’d even love for them to pick what she would wear. And a few months ago she found just that. 
“Come on Leah, you have to come out with us.” Her friend Tiffany groaned, putting her head in Leah's lap. 
“Yeah Leah, I feel like if we left you alone on another Friday night your vagina might shrivel up and fall off.” Her other friend Bri chimed in. 
Bri, Leah, and Tiffany were all roommates freshman year of college and could not have been more different. Believe it or not, Leah had even been more uptight back then. She refused to hang out with them, dedicating all of her time to her studies. But one terrifying night they thought someone was breaking into their apartment. 
They all hid in Bri’s room with a baseball bat until they found out it was just a raccoon who had found out how to kick open the door. Ever since that night, the girls were pretty much inseparable. 
“I reallyyy don’t though. Don't you normally go to ‘The Keg’ I mean could they have come up with any better of a name?” Leah groaned pushing past Tiffany to stand up from the coach to go refill her currently empty wine glass. 
“Um yeah, the bartender thinks I’m hot so we normally get free drinks,” Tiffany said, propping herself up on her elbow. 
“You literally work in accounting…I know what you make, you can afford drinks.” Leah said.
“She definitely can but that does not mean she has to…also you’re deflecting! Cmon we can't let you stay in on a Friday night for the hundredth time in a row. Bri said, coming to the counter behind Leah. 
“But I love my Friday night routine. Wine, my favorite snacks, my favorite shows and! My bed. You cannot find those at a bar.” Leah said. 
Tiffany rested her chin on Leah’s shoulder. 
“That’s the most depressing thing I have ever heard…you sound like you are eighty years old.”
“Or a depressed housewife,” Bri said. 
“I’ve always been told I have an old soul,” Leah said, shaking her arm like an old lady, making them both laugh.
Tiffany moved around her jumping up to sit on the counter facing Leah. 
“I’m just worried about you Leah….ever since Krista broke up with you–” Tiffany started. 
“Ah ah. No Krista talk, you promised.” Leah frowned. 
“And we promise we will stop feeling bad for you and not drag you out for the next six months if you just come out with us tonight,” Bri said, moving Leah's hair behind her ear. 
Leah looked at both of the friends dreading her reaction. It was like all critical thoughts left her head regarding them. This is exactly what happened way too many nights in college and it always ended up with Leah picking one of them off the bathroom floor. 
“UGHHHHHHH. Fine but only two drinks.” Leah said.
Tiffany and Bri squealed and jumped off the counter hugging her. “I knew you would cave! We are going to have so much fun, just like old times. BLT hitting the town again!” Tiffany said as Leah and Bri rolled their eyes.
“Girl even I might stay in if you use that awful nickname again” Bri said. 
“Yeah Tif, I think that died the night after you were talking to that girl who offered you a sandwich on the sidewalk.” Leah shuddered at the memory.
“Yeah, some questionable choices were made that night.” Tiffany agreed.
“Anyway go shave…whatever your situation is down there and put on something CUTE not one of your business casual shirts,” Bri remarked. 
“Yeah between the business casual attire and the ice queen attitude you give to any stranger that approaches us, you are kind of scaring the hoes,” Tiffany said. 
“Nope, no guys I am serious. No girls tonight, just us. I’m not looking for another subpar one night stand with some girl named ‘Angel’ who won't call me back.” Leah said. 
“A girl sets you up on one bad date and I never hear the end of it,” Bri said, making them all laugh. 
Leah had had enough drama with Krista and everyone felt bad for her. If she had to go out, she at least wanted to spend time with her best friends. 
“Okay fineeeeee I promise. It’s just us.” Tiffany said, extending her pinky. 
“Just us.” Bri agreed putting her pinky in the mix. 
“Always.” Leah smiled, sealing the deal. 
Pinky promises used to mean something back in elementary school but apparently, all that went out the window as the girls had barely finished one drink and Leah went to the bathroom and came back to Tiffany with her tongue down some woman’s throat. 
Leah rolled her eyes, sitting back down next to Bri. 
“Damn, I thought she might make it to drink two before she ditched us. Leah said 
“C'mon you know as well as me telling her she can't do something is going to make her do it that much faster,” Bri said taking a sip of her drink. 
Leah sighed, thinking of how she was going to get Tiffany out of there until Bri choked on her drink.
“Woah who is THAT,” Bri said nodding past Leah. 
Leah turned her head, looking at the seats further down the bar to see two women who looked impressively fit. One had long brown hair about mid-way down her back. She had on a classic pair of blue jeans and a strapless top which emphasised how impressive her back muscles were. But the other woman was who caught Leah’s attention. 
She had jet-black hair in a wolfcut style. She had a few nose piercings and an eyebrow slit – immediately setting off Leah’s fuck-girl radar. 
“Ah ah no that one is bad news.” Leah shook her head turning back to Bri. 
“Omg so quick to judge! What makes you say that?” Bri replied. 
“Um hello?? The piercings? The eyebrow slit? The tattoos? She is like the poster child for bad decisions.” Leah said, shaking her head. 
“Well, what if I wanted to make some bad decisions? Bri said, wiggling her eyebrows. 
“Then I would tell you to DM Jenna again, not find a new problem. I know exactly what her type is and trust me you want nothing to do with Miss Wolf Cut over there.” Leah said, sipping her drink.
“Damn, it seems like I already made a bad impression then?” Leah heard a voice from behind her. 
Both Leah and Bri choked on their drink, turning around to face the woman and her friend. 
“Pretty arrogant of you to assume we were talking about you,” Leah said coldly, making Bri and the woman's friend make a face.
“Arrogant or observant?” The stranger raised an eyebrow. 
“Anyway me and my friend were just about to leave so excuse us,” Leah said, turning around to flag the bartender. 
Leah heard the woman's friend mumble something back to her along the lines of, “Let's go sit down again” but the woman ignored her. 
When the bartender returned to the group, Leah could barely get a word in before the woman with the wolf cut spoke up again. 
“I'll do another whisky sour and the lady will take…a cosmo” She smirked, eyeing Leah’s glass. Leah went to protest but the bartender went straight to work. 
Leah turned to complain to Bri as she saw her now chatting up the brunette with the long hair. 
She sighed, accepting defeat as the woman with the tattoos sat in the barstool next to her. 
“So how often do you do this? Go to some shitty dive bar and try and pick up your next victim.”
“Victim?” the woman laughed “You think I am that type?”
“I don't think so, I know so,” Leah replied shortly.
“And why is that sweetheart?”  The woman asked as the bartender passed her her new drink. 
“Because I’ve fallen for women like you before. You exude this confidence you walk around like anyone should be honored to have the pleasure of sleeping with you.”  Leah explained. 
“So you admit it, I am your type.” The woman smirked, causing Leah to roll her eyes. 
The stranger laughs, finishing her drink and slamming it onto the bar. 
“Well miss….” The stranger paused waiting for her name. 
“Leah,”She offered.
“Well miss Leah I'll get out of your business but I…hope we run into each other again. I don’t think this was the only time we are meant to meet.” She winked at Leah before getting up, placing money on the bar, and grabbing her friend to head out. 
After they left Bri scooted over to Leah again. 
“So you got her number right?!” Bri said excitedly. 
“In her dreams,” Leah said, taking the last swig of her drink. 
------------------------------
By the time April came around Leah was as busy as ever. Work really picked up and she had been running around the city like a chicken with its head cut off. Event planning was no joke. The clients could be demanding and annoying but hey – at least Leah was getting paid. 
This particular day was not going her way though. She had slept through her 5 am alarm so she had to do her morning routine in twenty minutes. Once she was in the office, one of the interns spilled coffee on her. The rest of the day was meetings and clients yelling over the phone followed by more meetings. By the time Leah had put out all the fires it was pushing 9pm. She sighed as she turned off the light in her office and headed for her car. 
She turned on the meditations that she did not get to practice this morning and started her commute home. It was only about 25 minutes, Garnet Valley was a small town but cutting through downtown could save Leah about five minutes and based on the downpour she would take all the time off she could get. Leah gripped the wheel tight leaning forward to see through her windshield wipers. The more it rained the louder she tuned up her mediation…which was the reason she did not hear her check engine light go off. 
She continued at a slow pace until the car jerked, alarming her. She turned down her meditation a bit, finally hearing the light beep on the indicator. 
“No no no” Leah started whispering to herself as her car jerked again. 
She was just on the edge of downtown as she pulled over the car, making sure to jerk once more before she turned it off. 
Leah waited for about three minutes before turning on the car again, the engine sputtering a few times before stalling. She repeated this two or three times before pulling out the keys. 
“FUCK.” Leah shouted, laying her head on her wheel. 
She let a few tears slip before she looked at her phone.
She couldn’t call Tiffany because she was out of town for work. 
Bri was around but she was on a third date with a girl she really liked. And Leah would rather walk home than ruin her friend’s date. 
She sighed, getting in contact with AAA to come tow her car. They said they would be there “soon” but based on her experiences in college she knew that could mean five hours right now. 
She saw that there was a gas station across the street from where she stalled out, so begrudgingly she decided that is where her dinner would be. 
She bundles up her thin hoodie, locked the car and ran across the street – almost slipping a few times. 
As she walked in, the cashier gave her a nod and she strolled through the isles. 
She grabbed a beef jerky stick, a bag of potato chips and a diet coke. 
She normally would never be caught dead consuming such garbage but honsetly this day could not get any worse…
“Is that you Cosmo girl?” she heard a familiar voice say. 
Leah froze in her tracks, beef stick a quarter eaten. There was no way it could be her. 
As Leah turned around she was greeted with the woman's familiar figure. 
She looked a bit different. Her hair was now mid back lengthand she was wearing a big t-shirt and joggers. Leah questioned how she could look so good in such plain clothes. 
As the woman's eyes got big at the sight of Leah she finally caught what she looked like in one of the mirror in the corner of the store. 
Leah was in a zipped up hoodie with her hood pulled up. Her hair frizzing up underneath and poking through a bit. Her jeans and blouse were soaked and her face… well if it wasn’t the rain that made her makeup run. It was her tears from the car. To complete the look with the several snacks she had in hand was mortifying.
And the woman could sense it, laughing loudly. 
Leah blushed with embarrassment, going to walk past her to pay. 
“Hey hey.. The stranger said gently, grabbing her arm as she passed. “I’m sorry. You just caught me by surprise with your new…look.” The woman held back a giggle. 
“Ha ha laugh it up.” Leah mumbled. 
“C’mon Cosmo girl.Let me pay for your snacks as an apology…you look like you need a pick-me-up.” The woman said, taking the snacks out of her hand and heading to the register. 
Leah didn’t even put up a fight, she was so embarrassed. To be seen in such a vulnerable state made her uneasy. The woman snapped her out of her thoughts. 
“Here you go…Leah.” The woman said handing over a bag as Leah gave a polite thank you. 
The woman raised her eyebrow, perplexed by the seemingly different person standing before her than at The Keg a few months ago. 
“Did you park far? I can help you out with my umbrella.” The woman said as the pair exited the convenience store. 
“Kind of…my car broke down,” Leah said quietly. 
“Damn, you really have had a shit day huh?” The woman said. 
Leah nodded finally looking up at the woman. Her eyes were not the same as when they first met. They were not filled with mischief or lust just…saddness? Pity? And that made Leah want to run and hide. 
“I called AAA. They should be here soon.” Leah said, clearing her throat and breaking eye contact again. 
“So like five hours?” The woman said. 
The two women looked at each other again as they burst out laughing. Leah started laughing so hard she started crying…almost sobbing. This was her low, her rock bottom, being soaked in a rainstorm after a shit day. 
“Well listen I know you may not like what I am about to suggest but do you want to wait at my place? I live right there.” The woman said, pointing to a window about two blocks away.
Leah sighed, thinking of course this was a convenient way to get Leah back to the stranger's home. She had seen horror movies start…and end like this. 
As soon as she opened her mouth to make a smart comment she noticed a familiar vehicle pulling up out of her peripheral. 
It couldn’t be…this had to be a joke. 
And yet when the woman stepped out of her car there she was. Krista. The same Krista that said that Leah was “The One”. The same Krista who said no one or nothing would ever come between them. And yet that was the same Krista who broke up with her by leaving a note and clearing out their apartment while Leah was on a business trip. 
Leah’s heart sank as she could tell tears were beginning to form. She quickly turned to the woman who got her the snacks. 
“Actually yes that sounds so nice. Lead the way!” Leah laughed nervously. 
The woman looked at her, obviously confused by the sudden shift in demeanor from Leah. But as Leah’s gaze shifted between her and the woman pumping gas she put it together that that was not someone Leah wanted to see right now. So she obliged. 
Upon entering the apartment Leah was not surprised by the decor. It was like the den of a vampire. All of the furniture was black. There were hints of purple accents on the walls and on some side tables. But it seemed very on-brand for….for this woman? It hit Leah that not only was she in a stranger's apartment, but she had no idea what her name was. 
“Make yourself at home.” The woman said, taking off her boots. 
“Thank you…uh..” Leah said.
The woman looked up.
“Rhea,” She replied back with a smile. 
“Let me go get you a towel and a change of clothes. You're going to get sick if you stay in those.” Rhea said, passing her to go to what Leah presumed was her bathroom. 
As she passed Leah got a whiff of her scent again smelling stronger from the rain as a strong emphasis of Burgemont stuck out to her. 
Rhea prepared everything in the bathroom and let Leah take her time promising her she would look out for the tow truck in the meantime. 
As Leah let the warm water envelope her body, she reflected on the day. She knew Krista lived in the same town. They were bound to run into each other. But catching Leah off guard was rare. It threw her into a state of vulnerability she was highly uncomfortable. I mean, it had been almost a year since their break up but Leah was always in control.
 She was able to predict Krista’s every move. But now it seemed like she did not even recognize the woman anymore..or maybe she didn’t recognize herself. 
Leah got out of the shower and looked at the clothes Rhea had laid out. She definitely would not typically wear any of these garments. The shirt was black with a soft white design of what she assumed was a band logo in the center. The sweatpants were admittedly comfortable but a little big. She pulled at the drawstring. 
She wiped her face for a final time before heading back into the living room. Rhea sat on the window-sill watching her car as she promised. 
Leah cleared her throat so as to not scare her. Rhea turned to her. 
Rhea’s eyes widened with an emotion Leah could not exactly make out. 
“You look...normal,” Rhea said. 
“Normal?” Leah said, crossing her arms. 
“Not as an insult more like ... .yourself and not some Queen of Ice ready to behead one of her subjects…or a woman buying her a drink in a bar.” Rhea laughed. 
“Even Your Majesty has off moments.” Leah sighed heavily plopping down on the couch. 
“So…who was the woman at the gas station,” Rhea asked, catching Leah off guard. 
“I don’t see why she would be any of your business,” Leah said coming off a bit more harsh than she intended. 
“C’mon, sweetheart. I bought you your fabulous dinner, let you shower, and wear my favorite sweatpants. The least you can do is give me a little backstory. “ Rhea said, moving to the opposite side of the couch from Leah. 
Leah looked at her expecting a shit-eating grin but the woman looked genuinely interested. 
“Did she do anything to you?” Rhea whispers, clenching her fist a little.
“NO no god no – not like that.” Leah quickly said.��
“She's just an…ex. Who I didn’t want to see me like that.” Leah admitted. 
Rhea sat back in relief but still questioned. “Messy breakup?”
“If you consider leaving a note saying. ‘I used to enjoy thinking about our forever but who could stand to be someone who loves their reputation more than me messy than yes, very.” Leah said, causing Rhea to wince. 
“Yeah, I think that counts as messy.” Rhea agreed, earning a small smile from Leah.
“You do give off a very strong aura,” Rhea admitted. “That's why I went and flirted with you at the bar.” 
“You liked the fact that I seemed to be almost… repulsed at your flirting?” Leah questioned looking at Rhea. 
“I admit you were a tough shell to crack but I noticed something else underneath that cool and mean exterior,” Rhea said, motioning her hands toward Leah. 
“Oh yeah and what was that?” Leah asked. 
“Excitement,” Rhea smirked, causing Leah to look away from her. 
“I have no idea what you mean.” Leah cleared her throat causing Rhea to laugh. 
“It was only for a second but I could see the look in your eye when I ordered the drink for you. It was like you were relieved and turned on at the same time. “ Rhea said boldly. 
Leah's eyes widened. 
“I was NOT turned on. I hate not being in control. What if I had wanted something else? What if I wanted to switch my drink.” Leah said. 
“I agree, you seem like you need to be in control of most things in your life but…” Rhea said, moving closer to Leah on the couch. “ I think sometimes you like to give other people control if they prove themselves to you.” 
Leah blushed at her forwardness, standing up. Feeling uncomfortable with the ache she was starting to feel in between her legs.  
  “I think you like to assume a lot of things about me, Rhea,” Leah said, going to glance out of the window still– no truck in sight.  
“Like what?” Rhea said, sitting back and spreading her legs a bit. 
“Like the fact that I wanted more than one Cosmo at that bar or the fact that you assumed I had a history with my ex at the gas station and that you assumed if you were able to get me back to your apartment I would just go weak at the knees and beg you to take control of me.” Leah ranted pacing back and forth before stopping in front of Rhea.
Leah looked down at Rhea, her breathing getting heavier as Rhea slowly stood up from the couch towering over Leah as the two got close. 
“And am I wrong assuming that maybe you came back to my place because you knew I was exactly the person who could take care of you after such a rough day?” Rhea whispered, moving a curl behind Leah’s ear. 
The pair breathed quicked as Leah looked up at Rhea as she licked her lips looking at Leah with such affection yet equal parts lust. 
Leah would never be so reckless. This woman only learned her name twenty minutes ago and now she was inching closer and closer to climbing on top of this woman. How could she let go so easily? 
Rhea bent down to her ear and whispered.
“All you have to do is ask princess…and I’ll take care of you,” Rhea said grabbing her hand and ghosting her lips over Leah’s neck. 
Leah’s head mind was racing. There was no way she was going to fall for this woman's spell would she? And yet the only words that came out of her mouth were. 
“Please…” Leah whispered. “Fuck me” 
That was all Rhea needed to finally press her lips against Leah's throat. 
Rhea’s hands shifted down to her hips pulling Leah’s body flush against hers causing Leah to let out a satisfied moan. 
As Rhea bit her neck lightly Leah did not even think about the fact she would have a hickey to cover tomorrow just that she wanted more of this feeling. Rhea kissed Leah’s throat, sighing before pressing her lips against Leah’s. 
“I thought you would never ask” Rhea smirked, moving her lips in tandem with Leah. 
The kiss was so deep Leah barely noticed Rhea sitting them both on the couch as Leah straddled Rhea continuing to press into her. 
Rhea moved her hands up from Leah's waist grabbing one of her breasts.
“This okay?” Rhea paused for a moment coming up for air. 
Leah nodded, leaning in to kiss her again. 
“Ah ah, princess I need to hear you say it. Say you want me to handle these gorgeous tits.” Rhea groaned. 
Leah would typically never say such a vulgar sentence but with the pulse coming from between her legs getting stronger Leah had no problem saying it.
“Please play with my tits.” 
Rhea obliged quickly, taking Leah’s shirt and throwing it haphazardly across the room. 
Since Leah's Bra was soaked it was no surprise either woman when there was no bra to be found. 
Leah moaned as Rhea kissed down her cheek grabbing one breast and licking a painfully slow swipe across her left nipple. 
“Fuck I can barely fit them in my hands.” Rhea seemed to mumble to herself before taking one nipple in her mouth. 
As Rhea sucked and licked and teased Leah’s breast she was not naive to feel Leah’s hips start to buck in search of any friction. 
Rhea grinned looking up at Leah as she pulled back biting her nipple before letting it go with a gasp from Leah. 
“Sorry, I would love to tease these all day but I have something else I need to take care of,” Rhea said grabbing Leah’s hips and rolling the pain so Leah was now sitting on the couch with Rhea going on her knees between Leah’s legs. 
“Since the minute you stepped out here in my clothes all I could think about is how they would look on my floor.” Rhea flashed her shit-eating grin. 
Leah was about to get out a witty comeback but the words quickly left her brain as Rhea began tugging on the waistband of Leah’s sweatpants making sure to kiss every inch of her exposed skin as she finally got them off discarding them amongst the pile building in the corner.  
Rhea kissed up Leah’s thigh getting dangerously close to her heat as Leah’s eyes widened in anticipation. Rhea looked up at Leah panting and biting her lip down at Rhea. 
Rhea paused shaking her head for a moment. 
“Is something wrong? “ Leah said sitting up a bit before Rhea grabbed her hips pinning her in place. 
“The opposite princess.” Rhea smiled grabbing her wrist and kissing it tenderly. 
“You look like a work of art…and I can’t wait to ruin you,” Rhea said whispering the last part as she sat back on her knees, hooked her arms under Leah’s thighs, and licked a long stripe up to Leah’s clit. 
Leah threw her head back as the feeling of ecstasy took over.
Leah was attracted to Rhea when they first met in the bar, whether she wanted to admit it or not.  But she looked absolutely sinful right now. As her tongue continued to dance across Leah’s clit  Leah began to truly observe Rhea. The way her eyes fluttered between looking up at Leah or closing them to focus on her meal. The groans she would let out when Leah started moaning in a higher pitch. But what sent her over the edge was when she moved one hand so she could massage Leah’s clit as her she flicked her tongue in and out of Leah. The way her muscles tightened as Leah reached her peak had her crying out Rhea’s name as she came on her tongue. 
Rhea slowed down the pace of massaging her clit so Leah could ride out her high as Rhea got up straddling Leah. Leah finally opened her eyes in time to see Rhea slide her thumb over Leah’s lips and part them a bit.
Leah waited in anticipation as Rhea connected their lips, her tongue immediately begging for entrance. Leah tasted herself off of Rhea's tongue. 
Leah tried to grab Rhea’s hips to sit her down on her lap until Rhea stopped her with a smile. 
“I’m not done with you yet,” Rhea said, getting up and offering her hand to Leah as she led her to her bedroom. 
Leah went from being pressed against the bedroom door to Rhea’s vanity to finally lying on her back in Rhea’s bed. 
Leah watched curiously as Rhea stripped, putting on a harness. Leah bit her lip watching her back muscles flex as she bent over attaching a purple dildo to the harness before turning around. 
Rhea caught Leah looking, giving her a wink before walking over and sitting on the edge as Leah crawled up to her. 
“Mind getting it wet for me sweetheart?” Rhea said in a deeper town stroking Leah's curls before grabbing a fist full as Leah’s eyes widened in excitement. 
Leah got on the floor between Rhea's legs as she quickly offered her a pillow to rest her knees on. 
Leah was practically salivating when she grabbed the dildo with one hand spitting on the tip and letting Rhea watch it drip down. 
Rhea let out a low “Fuck” as Leah started taking it in her mouth Leah batted her eyelashes up at Rhea as she tried to take it to the base. 
“That's a good girl,” Rhea said as Leah slowly started bobbing her head up and down on the dildo getting it soaked in spit. Her arousal grew more and more as she imagined it inside of her. 
Rhea grabbed a fist full of Leah’s curls again telling her to open as Rhea started fucking her throat. 
Leah tried to open her throat as wide as possible, letting Rhea violate her. Leah looked up at Rhea while she gagged and she could have sworn that almost made her cum. 
Rhea let go of Leah’s hair and helped her off her knees as she said she needed her right now telling Leah to lay ass up facing the foot of the bed 
“As if you couldn’t look any more sexy – look at this ass,” Rhea said, slapping it and getting behind Leah. 
Leah hissed at the sting as she felt the dildo start rubbing up and down her pussy.
Rhea teased her lining up with her entrance and pushing in just a little bit before pulling out. She did this about three more times before Leah started whining. 
“Please…please,” Leah begged, apparently too quiet. 
“What was that princess? You’re going to have to beg louder than that.” Rhea said repeating the same motion but a little bit deeper this time. 
“Fuck Rhea please you already have me bent over,” Leah said exasperated. 
Rhea went just deep enough to drive Leah crazy as she begged loudly this time.
“Oh my god Rhea please fuck me take control and make me…FUCK.” Leah almost screamed as Rhea fully slid inside her. 
Rhea was stroking painfully slow at first making sure to fill her pussy up as far as she could but after a minute or so she started to pick up the pace. 
Leah could not imagine how sinful the noises must have sounded to anyone who could have passed. Even on the street below Leah was sure that if it was not pouring rain her moans would have echoed down the street. 
“God you look so pretty taking my cock…look at yourself,” Rhea said, grabbing Leah's hair again and making her sit up flush against her. Leah looked up to a mirror that was in front of them. And she could barely recognize herself. Her hair was a mess half in Rhea’s hands the other half sprawled outward. Her tits bounced with every stroke Rhea did and she could tell Rhea was staring hard at them. She could also see the outline of the dildo poking at her lower stomach as Rhea continued her assault. 
Leah’s moans got higher again as she felt Rhea’s breast press against her pack and how hard her abs were crunching as she fucked her. 
Rhea noticed, snaking a hand up Leah’s stomach to her throat.
“Are you going to cum for me again, pretty girl? Get ready to hold your breath.” Rhea grunted as Leah took a deep breath. 
Rhea told her to hold her breath as she tightened her grip. 
“I'm going to countdown and on 10 you’re going to let out that pretty noise again and cum for me okay?” Rhea coached her as she began to count. 
“10…..9….8…” Rhea began as Leah’s thoughts were getting cloudy. All she could think about was more… more…more..
“7….6….5…..4” Rhea continued. 
Leah felt like that bubble building inside her was about to explode as Rhea started rubbing Leah’s clit with her free hand.
“3….2….Cum for me princess.” Rhea encouraged her as Leah felt everything in her body tighten as she came harder than she ever thought was possible. 
Rhea let go of her neck, Leah gasping for air as Rhea slowly pulled out and laid Leah down on her back. 
“You were amazing….Leah.” Rhea said softly kissing Leah on the forehead. She explained she was just running to get Leah some water and a towel. 
During the short time she was gone Leah started being able to form full thoughts again like “Oh my god I just had the best sex of my life with someone I do not even know more than two things about.” And Rhea could tell. When she returned and gave Leah the glass of water,  she could tell the woman was embarrassed – sitting with her knees to her chest. 
“Hey hey don't start doing that over-thinking thing.” Rhea interrupted her thoughts. 
“I'm not- well I…I normally just don’t sleep with people when I haven't even gone out with them. I am not even sure what your favorite color is what you do for work or how you spend your free time.”  Leah started after taking a sip. 
“Well my favorite color is purple, I am a wrestler, and typically I prefer my alone time but there is someone I ran into tonight I am hoping I get to spend more time with.” Rhea smiled. 
“Wait a wrestler?” Leah questioned before her phone started ringing. 
After dealing with the phone call and explaining it was the tow truck Rhea looked a bit disappointed but she helped Leah get dressed and helped her get her shoes on.
As Leah got ready to exit the apartment she looked back at Rhea as she waved a half-hearted goodbye before Leah said. 
“So is this the part where you ask me for your number or is that out of my control? “
Hi guys! I hope you liked this one it took me...so long. But I hope everyone had a good day and I can be a very steamy wind down to your day. :)
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richincolor · 3 months ago
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There is a wealth of fantasy books out in September and October, and here's a roundup of some I thought looked fun. Which ones are on your TBR list?
The Ancient's Game by Loni Crittenden HarperCollins
Alchemy and ancient spirits come to life in this debut fantasy inspired by African diasporic folklore and the 1920s World Fair, wherein sixteen-year-old Kellan DuCuivre, an orphan from a reviled class, must compete for a coveted apprenticeship among the nation’s elite in order to save her adoptive father from a twisted fate. Sixteen-year-old Kellan DuCuivre is the descendant of traitors. She never knew her family members or which one of them betrayed the isle of Nanseau. But like all Du orphaned after the war, Kellan is forbidden by law from practicing makecraft, the trade of carving magic into metal that was perfected by the Guild of Engineers and their maker apprentices. No one can know that Kellan has been using makecraft in secret and that, in the wake of a tragic miscarve, she’s been helping her adoptive father, Edgar, run his celebrated makeshop. But Edgar’s condition is worsening, and his shop is on the brink of ruin. On the eve of the Eighty-Fourth Annual Makers’ Exposition in Nanseau’s sparkling city of Riz, Kellan is thrust into the Guild’s twisted web of political intrigue and ancient secrets when she strikes a dangerous deal with one of its members to save Edgar and his shop. Now Kellan must compete in a rigorous gauntlet against the nation’s elite for a coveted spot as a maker’s apprentice. But danger lurks at every turn. And as Kellan falls into a budding relationship with the illegitimate son from one of Nanseau’s most revered families, she’s put into the limelight when something sinister begins targeting the Gauntlet’s competitors and wreaking havoc on Riz. Amid a crumbling city and a ticking clock, winning the Gauntlet won’t just be a test of survival—it will mean pulling back the veil of secrets behind the Guild and uncovering the shrouded legacies of Nanseau itself.
For She is Wrath by Emily Varga Wednesday Books
A sweeping, Pakistani romantic fantasy retelling of The Count of Monte Cristo, where one girl seeks revenge against those who betrayed her—including the boy she used to love. Three hundred and sixty-four days. Framed for a crime she didn't commit, Dania counts down her days in prison until she can exact revenge on Mazin, the boy responsible for her downfall, the boy she once loved—and still can't forget. When she discovers a fellow prisoner may have the key to exacting that vengeance--a stolen djinn treasure--they execute a daring escape together and search for the hidden treasure. Armed with dark magic and a new identity, Dania enacts a plan to bring down those who betrayed her and her family, even though Mazin stands in her way. But seeking revenge becomes a complicated game of cat and mouse, especially when an undeniable fire still burns between them, and the power to destroy her enemies has a price. As Dania falls deeper into her web of traps and lies, she risks losing her humanity to her fight for vengeance--and her heart to the only boy she's ever loved.
Immortal Dark (Immortal Dark Trilogy #1) by Tigest Girma Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
The Cruel Prince meets Ninth House in this dangerously romantic dark academia fantasy, where a lost heiress must infiltrate an arcane society and live with the vampire she suspects killed her family and kidnapped her sister. It began long before my time, but something has always hunted our family. Orphaned heiress Kidan Adane grew up far from the arcane society she was born into, where human bloodlines gain power through vampire companionship. When her sister, June, disappears, Kidan is convinced a vampire stole her—the very vampire bound to their family, the cruel yet captivating Susenyos Sagad. To find June, Kidan must infiltrate the elite Uxlay University—where students study to ensure peaceful coexistence between humans and vampires and inherit their family legacies. Kidan must survive living with Susenyos—even as he does everything he can to drive her away. It doesn’t matter that Susenyos’s wickedness speaks to Kidan’s own violent nature and tempts her to surrender to a life of darkness. She must find her sister and kill Susenyos at all costs. When a murder mirroring June’s disappearance shakes Uxlay, Kidan sinks further into the ruthless underworld of vampires, risking her very soul. There she discovers a centuries-old threat—and June could be at the center of it. To save her sister, Kidan must bring Uxlay to its knees and either break free from the horrors of her own actions or embrace the dark entanglements of love—and the blood it requires.
Inferno's Heir by Tiffany Wang Bindery Books
Fearing for her life, an outcast princess joins the rebellion against her own kingdom and family. . . but when playing with fire, someone always gets burned. Teia Carthan abandoned her morals long ago, and now there’s nothing she won’t do to stay alive. So far she has survived her parents’ deaths, the ire of the Council, and innumerable attempts on her life, orchestrated by Jura, her half brother and soon-to-be king of Erisia. Teia’s rare control over two elements marks her as both an outsider and a formidable opponent—but once Jura is crowned king, there will be no way to survive him. Not for Teia, not for anyone. When Jura moves to crush the rebellion that seeks to overthrow the monarchy, Teia sees one last opportunity to ensure her own safety. She can infiltrate the rebels, locate their base . . . and betray them to Jura, trading their lives for her own. Yet when Teia meets the rebels, she gets far more than she bargained for. And when she gains not only their trust but their friendship, she begins to have doubts. Perhaps the rebels are right. Perhaps the Golden Palace should be torn down and the monarchy destroyed. But then again—what if there is another possibility? What if Teia were on the throne instead?
Legend of the White Snake by Sher Lee Quill Tree
A snake spirit transforms into a boy and must hide his true identity after falling for a headstrong prince in this lush, romantic retelling of the traditional Chinese folktale. When Prince Xian was a boy, a white snake bit his mother and condemned her to a slow, painful death. The only known cure is an elusive spirit pearl—or an antidote created from the rare white snake itself. Desperate and determined, Xian travels to the city of Changle, where an oracle predicted he would find and capture a white snake. Seven years ago, Zhen, a white snake in the West Lake, consumed a coveted spirit pearl, which gave him special powers—including the ability to change into human form. In Changle, Xian encounters an enigmatic but beautiful stable boy named Zhen. The two are immediately drawn to each other, but Zhen soon realizes that he is the white snake Xian is hunting. As their feelings grow deeper, will the truth about Zhen’s identity tear them apart?
Spells to Forget Us by Aislinn Brophy G.P. Putnam's Sons Books for Young Readers
Fate brought them together. Magic made them strangers. Luna is a powerful witch. Known for her skills and feared for her temper, she’s set to preserve her family’s legacy by becoming the head of Boston’s Witch Council—a job she does not want. Aoife is a non-magical girl. Raised under the lens of her influencer family, she’s grown up in the public eye. Now she yearns for privacy—but knows her parents won’t oblige. Just when they are at their lowest, Aoife and Luna find each other and start dating. As decreed by magic law, Luna casts a spell that will erase Aoife’s memories of their history together if they ever break up. But when Aoife and Luna end things, it’s both of them who forget . . . that is, until they meet again, fall for each other, and recover all the memories of their last attempt at dating. So begins the story of two star-crossed lovers who keep finding their way into each other’s orbits, even as the universe pulls them apart. When they set out to break the cycle, will they be strangers forever or together at last?
Till the Last Beat of My Heart by Louangie Bou-Montes HarperCollins
When you grow up in a funeral home, death is just another part of life. But for sixteen-year-old Jaxon Santiago-Noble, it’s also part of his family’s legacy. Most dead bodies in the town of Jacob’s Barrow wind up at Jaxon’s house; his mom is the local mortician, after all. He doesn’t usually pay them much mind, but when Christian Reyes is brought in after a car accident, Jaxon’s world is turned upside down. There are a lot of things Jaxon wishes he could have said to his once best friend and first crush. When he accidentally resurrects Christian, Jaxon might finally have that chance. But the more he learns about his newfound necromancy, the more he grasps that Christian’s running on borrowed time—and it's almost out. As he navigates dark, mysterious magics and family secrets, Jaxon realizes that stepping into an inherited power may also mean opening up old family wounds if he wants to keep the boy he may be falling for alive for good.
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bellaxgiornata · 1 year ago
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Falling For the Devil [Part eighty-seven: "The Week of Distractions"]
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader
Summary: You and Matt spend your first week living together and quickly find out just how distracting you both are to each other.
Or Lots of sex ensues.
[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]
Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence
Word Count: 17.9k (yes, you read that right)
a/n: This installment is just smut. Lots of it. I'll mention there's Dom/Sub undertones, rough sex, and face-fucking in this installment (let me know if anything else might need to be noted). We do not get the full smut scenes because it's a smut montage and this would've gotten even more out of hand in length. I'd also like to thank @theetherealbloom for Monday's scene inspired by an ask! There is alternating POVs but I messed up and the last two are Reader (I was too tired to rewrite it at that point) and we get ALL the sides of Matt in here plus Spicy Reader. Feedback is greatly appreciated!
Tag List: @ninacotte @mattkinsella @stilldreaming666 @murdocksclient @madscamp02 @1988-fiend @lina-mar @pinkratts @schneeflocky @acharliecoxedfan @yarrystyleeza @theetherealbloom @danzer8705 @lionalsowrites @harperdoodle
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Saturday
Matt’s fingers ran over the braille reader as he sat at the kitchen table, rereading a file on his laptop. Foggy had emailed him a handful of files yesterday morning before they’d left the office early to help you unpack and move into his place. Matt hadn't planned on looking at them over the weekend, he didn't think he’d have a chance to work on them until he was back in the office on Monday, but you’d been exhausted all morning today so Matt had suggested you take a nap after lunch. Which was what you were currently doing on the leather sofa nearby, his blanket draped over you.
You’d fallen asleep probably fifteen minutes ago now and Matt had quickly become very absorbed in the case he was working on. It had truthfully been frustrating him, though. There were a few particular details that he couldn’t seem to make sense of no matter how hard he tried. He’d read them over and over, running a hand through his hair in frustration and quietly cursing to himself. He was about ready to pull up his email and send a message to Foggy when he heard you make a soft noise from over on the couch.
Matt’s hand hesitated on the braille reader, his ears perking up before his head turned in your direction. He hadn’t been paying much attention to your sleeping form over on the couch while he had been working, knowing how tired you’d been since it had taken you so long to finally relax and fall asleep last night. Though after his talk with you in the kitchen around three in the morning, he’d noticed your nerves had leveled back out to their usual state and stayed there. Which he assumed meant you’d finally calmed and were beginning to adjust to living together now.
But as he focused on you just to his left, he was almost instantly hit with the scent of your arousal in the air. Matt felt his cock twitch in his sweatpants in response. How had he not noticed it earlier? Admittedly it was very faint, likely because you’d only recently become turned on by whatever it was you were dreaming about–something Matt was rapidly becoming curious about. 
As he tuned in closer to your body, he noticed your pulse was a little faster than usual when you were asleep. Even your breathing was hitching ever so slightly, something his ears were easily able to pick up on when he focused. No doubt you were dreaming about something sexual. That thought had Matt’s mind quickly shifting away from his work, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips. 
It had been a few days since you’d both had sex–since Wednesday morning, to be exact. Right before he’d had to leave your place for work and you’d had to get ready for work yourself. Though Tuesday night had certainly been something at your place, but it had been the only time this week you and Matt had had sex. He’d been craving it–craving that connection with you again–which was probably why he’d been so overzealous Tuesday night and Wednesday morning, but he’d known you’d been stressed and busy this week with the move and hadn’t bothered to bring up sex since.
Matt’s eyes snapped shut the moment you made another noise. It was a soft hum that vibrated in the back of your throat, something that sounded like a muffled moan. Jaw clenched, Matt turned away from you in his chair and tried to focus back on his braille reader. It didn’t feel right that he was sitting here listening to you like this while you weren’t even awake. 
For a few minutes he tried hard to ignore the growing scent of your arousal, but it was no longer just lightly wafting towards him. No, now the scent of it was beginning to hang heavy in the air around him. Not only that, but he’d heard the gentle rustle of fabric as your thighs involuntarily squirmed together in your sleep, which was clearly only further increasing Matt’s favorite smell through the apartment. 
Hanging his head in his hands as he slumped over the kitchen table, he became achingly aware that he was already half hard. Would it be so wrong if he disappeared into the bedroom for a few minutes? Took care of himself while you were asleep? Would jerking off to the scent of you in the air really be that wrong?
Before he could come to a conclusion, he’d heard you lightly moan again. Except this time it was followed by the softest, pleasure-filled utterance of his name in your sleep. Matt’s eyes once again snapped shut before he pressed the heels of his palms against them. 
This was sheer torture. Was it always going to be like this with you here now? With your arousal often coating the air around him, wonderfully suffocating him? He wasn’t sure he would survive that, not without constantly needing to fulfil the urge to either fuck you or bury his face in your cunt.
It didn’t help that he heard you calling his name again, the scent of you strong in his nose. With the heels of his hands still pressed against his closed eyes, his lips parted. Matt let the faint taste of you roll onto his tongue, a quiet whimper falling out of him as he heard you say his name again. His hips shifted on the chair, an uncomfortable feeling tightening in his gut. He needed to do something about his growing erection, there was no other option. But as he removed his face from his hands, he startled when he felt something touch his shoulder.
“Shit, sorry Matt!” you said, immediately withdrawing what was apparently your hand on him. “I was trying to get your attention for the past minute. You weren’t answering and you looked like you were in pain and I–”
He had turned towards you in the chair, hearing the way your words had cut off and your pulse had sped up when he did. No doubt you’d immediately noticed the tent of his sweatpants. Seconds later he heard you curse as you most likely pieced together why he was in his current state. And then immediately after that he swore he caught the spike in adrenaline in conjunction with the increase in that particular scent.
“Oh, I–I didn’t realize…” you trailed off.
Matt shot you a sheepish smile. “I guess this is something I didn’t exactly think about, either. Having you here all the time means you’re going to, well, become aroused at times and…that tends to have an effect on me. Obviously.”
Matt heard the way you were shifting back and forth on your feet in front of him, your lip slipping between your teeth. He wished it was his teeth gnawing on the soft flesh instead of yours–and that thought didn’t help his current situation.
“Do you…need to keep working?” you asked him carefully. 
A slow smile slid across Matt’s mouth before he turned even further towards you in the chair. “No,” he answered huskily. “I don’t need to work at all, actually. I was just keeping busy while you napped. Why, do you care to share what you were dreaming about?”
“Well,” you began, gradually lowering down to your knees before him, “I can show you what it was about, if you’d like?”
“Mmm,” Matt hummed out, enjoying the flirtatiousness in your tone as your hands landed on his thighs. “I would definitely like that.”
He felt your hands sensually slide up his thighs, the warmth of them lingering behind on his skin beneath his sweatpants and causing Matt’s cock to further strain against its confines uncomfortably. Your fingers curled around the waistband of both his sweatpants and boxers before gradually pulling them just halfway down his thighs. His hard cock sprang forth immediately, a faint sigh of relief falling out of him. 
As your hands landed back on his now bare upper thighs, your fingers running through the hair along his legs, Matt’s ears picked up on the excited noise that you emitted ever so softly. It was so quiet he was sure you hadn’t even realized you had made it. Your breathing had picked up, too, coming in faster and heavier. His own heart accelerated in his chest at the sound of your tongue gliding along your lips hungrily as one of your hands made its way towards his cock. 
You were becoming even more increasingly aroused now because you wanted to suck his cock–you were eager for it. Your body was practically screaming that at Matt. And that in itself was only further exciting him.
Your warm, soft hand gripped the base of him and Matt’s eyelids slowly fluttered closed at the contact. You had gripped him with the slightest of pressure and it had him desperate for more. He could tell how close your mouth had lowered to him, the heat of your breath falling over the sensitive skin of his cock with each exhale that passed between your plush lips. A moment later he felt the warm drip of your saliva land on the tip of him. Matt fought the urge to buck up into your hand as he impatiently waited for more, already longing to feel any part of you. 
Fortunately you didn't keep him waiting much longer, either. Your hand slid up the length of him, coating his cock in your saliva with a few pumps of your fist around him. Then he felt your warm tongue lightly swipe over the head of his cock, swirling a few times around it. Behind his closed lids, Matt's eyes momentarily rolled back. His lips parted once again, the taste of your arousal still thick in the air as it landed along his tongue. He was practically salivating at the tangy sweetness of it.
"This is what you were dreaming about, sweetheart?" Matt breathed out, enjoying the feel of your tongue gradually licking up the length of him. "My cock in your mouth? That's what you wanted?"
Your mouth sucked the tip of him straight inside before you hummed out an affirmative noise to his question. The vibration from your mouth shot straight up through the length of him, a burst of pleasure racing through Matt’s entire body. He groaned low in response, the noise a deep rumble in his chest. 
You had become exceptionally good at giving him head–honestly you'd become amazing at everything with him in the bedroom. Gradually he'd noticed that you had learned how to use his heightened senses to make him feel unbelievably good instead of accidentally overstimulating him. No one he'd ever been with before had been that perceptive of his body. No one had ever been so goddamn enjoyable to be with. But you were like this every damn time with him.
You sucked him further into your mouth, eager to take more of him already. Matt practically growled in response–you were unexpectedly enthusiastic this afternoon. His hand darted out, firmly gripping a fistful of your hair at the back of your head. His own head dropped back over his shoulders at the feel of your resulting moan in response to his grip, half of his cock in your mouth vibrating with the noise. 
The sensation felt so fucking good that his hips involuntarily snapped a fraction forward, sending himself just a bit further into your mouth. He'd quickly tried to restrain himself, but he'd certainly caught the resulting hum of pleasure from you again immediately afterwards. He whined at the feel of it, a coiling pleasure building at the base of his spine. He had begun to tremble from the effort of holding himself back, refraining from accidentally fucking into your mouth again, not wanting to hurt you or push your boundaries.
A moment later he felt you gradually slip your mouth off of him, your hand soon taking over as his head rolled forward again. He was close to apologizing, wondering if he'd done something wrong, but the languid strokes of your hand up and down the shaft of him had his words slow to form. You’d spoken before he had a chance to, and what you said next had Matt already wanting to cum.
"You don't need to hold back, baby," you told him. 
Your thumb ran over the head of him, the pad of it swiping over a particularly sensitive spot. Matt moaned out, a shudder running through his body. Fuck, were you really offering him that ?
"Are–are you sure?" Matt panted out. "We don't have to."
"Use me, Matt," you urged, thumb circling the tip of his cock again and causing Matt’s hips to squirm in the chair. "I want to try that with you."
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he breathed out, his other hand lightly grasping your chin, his thumb brushing over your dampened lips. “You’re really sure?”
Your lips wrapped firmly around his thumb, drawing it into your mouth as a hum of affirmation left you. Matt bit down hard on his own bottom lip when your tongue gently began to lap at the pad of his finger. How were you so good at this? At turning him on like this?
Your lips eventually released his finger, your mouth angling downwards to lightly place a kiss to the palm of his hand. And then you’d quickly maneuvered out of his grasp before sucking his cock hungrily back into your mouth. A flurry of curses flew out Matt in return, his hand gripping your hair tighter as you took him a little deeper. His abdominals tightened in pleasure at the feel of your warm mouth around him.
Carefully testing his boundaries, his hips ever so slightly rolled forwards up off the chair, his cock sinking deeper into your mouth. Your hands eagerly grasped onto his hips, an excited noise coming from your full mouth. 
" Ahh –fuck–sweetheart," Matt hissed out, his words broken. "You really want me to–to fuck your mouth?"
You once again hummed out an affirmative noise along Matt's cock, the feel of it causing him to moan out in pleasure. Not needing any further encouragement, Matt’s other hand lowered to lightly grip you by the throat. The scent of you grew thicker in the air as Matt heard the way your thighs had pressed together, his ears picking up on the slight rocking of your hips as you searched for friction. That only turned him on more–because you were getting turned on by this. 
When his hips rolled forward again, he could feel your throat relaxing as you took him deeper. A low, throaty groan fell out of Matt as his head fell completely over the back of the chair, his senses engulfed by you. Your nails further dug into his bare hips, encouraging him to fuck your eager mouth. 
And Matt was all too happy to oblige as he fucked up into your mouth yet again, a hiss of pleasure sneaking past his gritted teeth.
Sunday  
"Okay, so I've finally finished making a list and was about to run to the store for groceries for the week," you told Matt, making your way out of the bedroom as you skimmed over the list on your phone again. "Was there anything else you needed?"
Glancing up as you came to a stop just behind the leather couch, you saw Matt straighten back up from beside the dishwasher, the muscles of his upper torso flexing and pulling visibly as he moved. You hadn't expected him to still be shirtless after his shower, but he was wearing nothing but his sweatpants that were currently hanging low on his hips. His hair was still damp and clinging to his forehead, too.
Blinking hard, you tried to ignore the pleasant shock at finding Matt shirtless, damp, and doing the dishes. Though admittedly the sight had raised your body temperature just a bit, and judging by the cocky smile that slipped onto Matt’s face before he turned and headed over to the shelf to put away the plates in his hands, he’d noticed. Clearing your throat, you tried to focus back on your task of working on the grocery list for the week.
“Is there uh, anything else you would like me to pick up?” you asked. 
“Oh, I think you know exactly what I would like,” Matt teased, turning back around to face you.
You swallowed hard, your eyes once again drawn up towards him from the phone you held in your hand. He was grinning back at you with a devious look in his eyes. Your mouth felt like it was going dry at the sight of him just standing there half-dressed in the kitchen. Internally you chastised yourself, because watching Matt put away a load of clean dishes with his shirt off and his hair damp shouldn’t have had this much of an effect on you, but it fucking did. And his usual teasing wasn’t helping at all. 
“You–you, uh…” you began, but you quickly trailed off.
It was hard trying to focus on your words when your eyes were glued to his defined and toned chest as he made his way back to the dishwasher. Your eyes followed his movements as he bent over, intentionally turning so his ass was pointed straight at you. You watched as the fabric of his sweatpants pulled taut over it as he closed the dishwasher. Clearing your throat, you tried to focus again as he slowly rose back to his full height.
“I mean was there, uh something? You–you wanted?” you asked slightly breathless.
He chuckled, turning back towards you and leaning his arms over the kitchen countertop as his attention fixed on you. His head was tilted just a bit to the side, an amused smirk on his beautiful mouth.
“Trail mix, remember?” he replied, all faux innocence. “You know I love when you make it, sweetheart.”
“Right,” you said a little nervously, nodding as you glanced back down at your phone. “I’ll uh, I’ll add it to the list.”
Your fingers flew across the keypad on your phone as you added each ingredient of the trail mix Matt loved so much to the list. Though your fingers slowed their typing when you saw Matt push off of the countertop out of your peripheral. He was gradually making his way out of the kitchen and over towards you, your heart beating a little harder with each step he neared. Apparently it didn’t matter that you’d both just had sex yesterday afternoon after your nap because you found yourself quickly distracted from your typing because of his presence.
Matt stopped just in front of you, that cocky smile still on his face. He reached out and grabbed your phone, slowly sliding it out of your grip. You stood there dumbfounded, watching as he turned and effortlessly tossed your phone onto the kitchen table just to the side of him. When he turned back around, he placed one hand on either side of the leather couch, boxing you in between his arms. 
“Something on your mind besides the grocery list, sweetheart?” he asked. 
“What? No, I was just focused on getting the–the list together,” you replied quickly.
Matt shook his head, leaning forward towards your ear and whispering, “ Lie .”
You licked your lips, your eyes focused on his own lips with him suddenly standing so close to you. The hot breath from his mouth kept washing over yours as he continued to gaze down at you with that darkened, hungry stare of his.
“Well, I mean I was trying to focus on the list,” you conceded awkwardly, “but then you’re–you’re over in the kitchen making dishes somehow look weirdly sexy.” With a hard swallow you added, “And honestly that’s not fair, Matt. Putting away clean plates shouldn’t look so good.”
Matt’s bottom lip slipped between his teeth as he grinned back at you in amusement. The sight alone of him shirtless like that, so close to you while he caged you between those powerful arms of his, had you wanting to lunge at him. To crush your mouth to his and beg him to fuck you. You did your best to refrain though.
“I could tell you were enjoying yourself,” he teased. “But it seems now you might need a little–” he paused, leaning over to whisper in your ear again, “– help before you go to the store.”
Eyes widening back at him, you were about to open your mouth and respond, but then he abruptly turned his face towards yours and dove forward, pressing his lips to yours. Taken by surprise, it took you a moment to react. But when his teeth bit gently down onto your lower lip and tugged, your hands flew up and grabbed onto his broad shoulders, nails digging into his bare skin. 
Matt grunted in response before he released your lip, his hands landing on your hips and gripping them firmly. Effortlessly he spun you around, your back now facing him as your own hands flew out, grasping onto the back of the couch to balance yourself at the unexpected movement. Looking at Matt over your shoulder, you spotted that lustful look spread across his face. 
“What’re you doing, Matty?” you asked curiously.
He pressed himself to the back of you and you immediately felt his half-hard cock against your ass. Your cunt clenched tight around nothing instantly and his fingers dug into your hips over your shirt as if he knew.
“Bend over, sweetheart,” Matt ordered. “Bend over the couch, for me.”
Inhaling a shaky breath, your attention returned to the couch before you. Slowly you leaned over it, the backrest pressing against your abdomen. You rested your hands on a cushion, trying to hold yourself up. Seconds later you felt Matt’s arms wrap around your waist, his fingers deftly undoing the button of your jeans before lowering your zipper. Soon after, he was tugging your pants and underwear down your thighs and then slipping them entirely off of you. Goosebumps rose along your now bare lower half just before you felt Matt’s rough, warm hands lovingly smoothing their way along the backs of your thighs. 
“You can’t get enough of me, can you?” Matt asked from just behind you. 
One of his hands made their way between your thighs, lightly teasing a finger between your dampening folds. Your hips twitched in response, your body instinctively asking him for more. Matt hummed out a pleased noise.
“I”ll never have enough of you,” you whispered back.
“That’s my girl,” Matt praised quietly.
The pad of his index finger began rubbing gently against your clit, the sensation immediately causing your eyes to snap shut. You were vaguely aware of his other hand leaving your thigh, your focus mainly on what his fingers were doing to you. But soon you felt the telltale weight of Matt’s cock landing against your ass and you gasped in delighted surprise.
“Should I fuck you before you go to the store, sweetheart?” Matt asked. “Would you like that? For me to fill you with my cum before you pick up the groceries for our place?”
You whined in response, desperately trying to press yourself back into him the best you could in this position. Because yes, you absolutely wanted that. To feel the pleasant ache of your cunt after he’d fucked you so thoroughly while you wandered the produce aisle. Having the memory of his hands and his mouth on you like a brand against your skin as you filled the cart with the groceries you’d both be sharing this week. Something about that had you dying to feel him inside of you, filling you so well like he always did.
“Yes, Matty, please,” you whimpered. 
Both of his hands grasped onto your thighs, sliding you a little more forward over the couch. You instantly sunk down onto your forearms along the couch cushion before you, your head turning over your shoulder to where he was standing behind you. From what you could see of Matt, he’d pushed his sweatpants and boxers partway down his thighs. Your eyes lingered on his face and the way his brows were pinched together, his nostrils flaring as he swiped his cock back and forth between the slick that had very quickly accumulated between your folds. He looked absolutely pleased as he did, his tongue darting out for a moment to dampen his lips.
Soon you felt him lining himself up with your entrance, and when just the tip of him gradually entered you, you gasped out. Head falling forward, it dropped between your shoulders as you felt Matt continue to slowly ease himself inside of you until he was fully sheathed, entirely filling you up. With your hips a bit higher above you, raised by the backrest of the leather couch that you were draped over, you wrapped your legs around Matt’s waist to help balance yourself. 
Still fully sheathed inside of you, Matt just held himself there. He didn’t make any attempt to fuck you at all. It was a moment before you became desperate for more, your hips squirming needily as you made a noise of frustration. Matt’s right hand continued to grip your right thigh as his left hand began gliding back and forth along your lower back. The feel of it sent a shudder through you.
“You want more, sweetheart?” he asked.
“ Yes ,” you begged.
“Mmm,” Matt hummed out, clearly pleased at how badly you already needed him. “Then you’re going to have to fuck yourself on my cock, sweet girl.”
You perked up at his words, your head slightly raising at what he’d just said. A rumbling chuckle fell out of him behind you at your reaction.
“Go on, sweetie,” he urged huskily. “Use me. Fair is fair, right?”
For a moment you were stunned, continuing to lay immobile in the position you were in over the back of the couch. But you quickly found yourself becoming impatient, wanting more than just the fullness of him inside of you. 
Slowly you began to move your hips, arching your back just enough until you felt Matt's cock almost slipping out. You rolled your hips roughly back into him, taking him fully inside of you in one swift, delicious movement. A soft cry of pleasure flew out of you at the feel as you did it again, quickly increasing your pace as your breath came in sharper. You heard Matt moan behind you, both of his hands firmly gripping your thighs.
"That's it," he encouraged, his own breaths growing ragged. "Take what you need, sweet girl. I'm all yours."
Monday 
Matt was exhausted as he stood in the elevator waiting for it to slowly ascend to the top floor of his apartment building. He absently twirled his cane between both hands, his posture reflecting just how tired he was as his shoulders slumped forward a bit. His focus was admittedly not even on the space around him, but on you up in the apartment as he waited.
He’d told you that he’d be home late this evening because he, Foggy, and Karen had been working on a case. The three of them had been close to finally finding the break they needed and none of them had wanted to stop until they’d found it. Truthfully he’d expected it to take longer than it had, so Matt had given you a later time to expect him home and begged you not to wait for him for dinner. But thankfully they’d finished a little bit ago and Matt hadn’t wanted to linger around the office afterwards. Figuring he’d surprise you at home a little earlier than intended, he hadn’t given you a call to let you know he was on his way back when he’d left.
Which was why he was delighted to hear you were up in the apartment making dinner. And by the sounds of what he could hear–the pop music you were currently blaring on your phone in conjunction with your slightly elevated heart rate–you must have been dancing while you were cooking. Probably because you’d thought he wasn’t around to ‘see’ you doing it.
He grinned at that thought, wondering how adorably embarrassed you might become when he came through the front door and surprised you. He even had already thought of a way to tease you, hoping to hear your heart beat erratically in your chest and to feel the heat of your cheeks as you flushed. He would never stop loving the way your body reacted to him.
And over the past few days, Matt had absolutely loved having you at what had now become both of yours’ place, watching as you slowly began to settle in and grow comfortable in the space. Besides the fact that it seemed like your sex lives had become somehow even more active than before, he’d loved the little moments with you. Making dinner together over the weekend before cleaning up the dishes, playfully teasing each other and sharing lingering touches while you did. He loved coming back from his nights out as Daredevil to you curled up on the sofa wrapped in his blanket waiting for him. Both times when he had come back he’d hurried over to you, excitedly kissing you before he quickly stripped out of the suit so he could cuddle up with you for a few minutes before he carried you off to bed. 
And now he was coming home to you after a stressful day at work, excited that you were already here–and making dinner for the both of you. It thrilled Matt to know that you didn’t have to rush back to your apartment for anything ever again. Because you were always here with him. At home. And that thought had his own heart beating a little harder.
When the elevator doors opened, Matt didn’t hesitate to make his exit. His cane tapping along the floor, he made the familiar trek down the hallway back towards his apartment, a wide grin on his face as he focused on you inside. It smelled like you were making spaghetti and Matt’s stomach growled; he hadn’t really ate much for lunch earlier today, having been too busy with the case. He certainly was grateful you were making dinner.
Reaching the apartment door, he opened it, not surprised to find it unlocked despite how many times he’d told you to lock it when he wasn’t home. The grin briefly faltered on his face–he’d have to remind you about that again . But as he pushed the door open, he was immediately hit with the overpowering smell of your pheromones. It was so thick in the air that Matt had paused, frozen entirely on the spot just in the hallway.
Because of course with your elevated heart rate in a hot kitchen you’d be sweating just a bit, which in turn would increase your pheromones. It made sense. You were cooking pasta sauce on the stove, a pot of water boiling beside it, and it felt like you had the oven on. And you were, in fact, dancing in the kitchen. Which initially he’d found sweet and endearing, but with the scent of your pheromones heavy in the air and the sexual lyrics coming out of your phone, the way your hips were shaking in the kitchen right now had suddenly become something else to Matt.
Stepping into the apartment, he closed the door behind himself and made sure to lock it. He hung his cane up on the hook nearby first, his heart pounding harder in his chest as he heard the shift in the air around you in the kitchen. God, the way you were moving your hips with your lip caught between your teeth was drawing forth a reaction from himself that he had not anticipated. 
Quickly slipping out of his shoes, he stuffed them under the nearby bench before he briskly made his way down the entryway hall. Considering you weren’t expecting him home yet, your music was fairly loud, and you were currently focused on the stove as you continued to dance, you hadn’t noticed him come in. Matt wasn’t surprised by that.
And he didn’t want to alert you to his presence quite yet either. He wanted to continue to enjoy the seductive way you were moving without you noticing him for just a bit longer. He figured this wasn't something he would get to witness often. 
Slowly he slipped the strap of his briefcase over his head before tossing it onto the sofa, his focus never wavering from you. He made his way over to the kitchen, pausing just in the entrance of it. Closing his eyes, Matt stood there and allowed himself to feel the movements you were making through the currents of air around him. Each shake of your hips or slide of your hands through your hair slightly shifted the air around him and it was somehow quickly making him hard. The delicious and sweet scent of your pheromones filling his nose only further fueled his own increasing need, his dress pants gradually becoming uncomfortable.
Goddammit, you were sexy.
He’d already fucked you this morning in the shower and twice yesterday–once before you left for the grocery store and then another time before you’d both gone to sleep after he’d returned home from his night out as Daredevil. Yet for some goddamn reason it felt like he was in need of you again. Longing for you. Hungry for you.
Matt’s teeth ground together, no longer able to resist the call of your body. Crossing the distance between the pair of you, he came up behind you and carefully wrapped his arms around your waist. He felt you startle in his hold, your pulse jumping in brief shock as your head abruptly turned. You’d stopped dancing, though you’d calmed a bit when you’d realized it was him.
“Shit, Matt,” you breathed out, a hand landing over your thundering heart. “You really do need to start wearing a bell. You scared me half to death. Wasn’t expecting you back for another hour.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, nuzzling his face into the back of your neck. “I couldn’t resist.”
“What do you mean?” you asked, confusion in your tone.
Matt’s arms tightened around your waist, his mouth lingering beside your ear. He inhaled deeply, his eyes rolling back as he picked up on the faintest hint of your arousal peaking through the smell of your pheromones. 
You’d often joked that his cocky teasing and his insatiable sexual appetite would be the death of you. But right now, it felt like you were going to be the death of him .
“Don’t stop,” he whispered into your ear. 
He felt the exact moment you realized what he meant. Embarrassment did in fact flood your body, heating your cheeks as you tried to pull away from him. Matt only tightened his hold around you.
“ Matt !” you shrieked. “You were watching me?”
It was the response he’d been intending to pull from you when he was in the elevator. He loved your usual adorable shriek of embarrassment which he’d generally follow up with a cocky, smartass teasing remark. And he’d had one ready, too, until he’d opened the apartment door and been bombarded by your pheromones. Now all he wanted was for you to keep rhythmically moving your hips–preferably against his face with no fabric blocking you from his mouth.
“Your pheromones are everywhere,” he told you. “Wasn’t expecting that. Just wanted to come home early and surprise you.” 
One of his hands slid down your front, cupping you over your cotton shorts. He felt the slight jolt from your body at the sudden contact, but he could feel your blood rushing southwards towards his hand. You were enjoying him touching you like this.
“Don’t stop,” he repeated.
"Matt, I'm not–"
You stopped mid-sentence when his mouth landed on the space between your neck and your shoulder. He purred in satisfaction at the taste of you mixed with the faint taste of the pasta sauce you'd been cooking. His hand began gradually rubbing you over your shorts, his other one trying to encourage the sway of your hips against him. 
"Matt, the food," you protested weakly.
He released your hip long enough to turn both burners off on the stove. He broke away from your neck just long enough to whisper, "Dinner can wait."
It was a moment before he felt you finally give in. Gradually your hips began to move, almost timidly at first, and Matt pressed himself into you from behind with a low, rumbling growl of satisfaction. He began to lightly nip at the skin of your neck, his own hips moving in tandem with the sensual sway of yours. He was quickly losing all ability to control himself though, his hand still rubbing at you over your shorts as he continued to grind himself against your ass.
"I want to taste you," he said.
" Matt ," you whispered, his name a mix of a moan and a reprimand. 
His hand stopped its movement against you over your shorts, sliding its way up towards your other hip. He grinned in smug satisfaction against your neck when he caught the incredibly faint whimper that vibrated in your throat, the noise not quite leaving your mouth in response to the absence of his touch. You clearly wanted this, too.
His hands abruptly spun you around until he had you facing himself. Still grasping tight to your hips, he continued to encourage the sensual sway of them against himself as he began to walk you backwards through the kitchen and away from the hot stove. As he moved, Matt's mouth crashed down onto yours in a frenzied kiss–you tasted like coffee and strawberries for some reason and it only had him frantically trying to taste more. 
Matt didn't stop walking you backwards until he'd accidentally backed you right into the fridge. Your mouth broke away from his quickly, expelling a soft gasp of surprise at the impact.
He felt your hands slide their way up his chest, clutching eagerly at his shoulders and rumpling his dress shirt between your fingers. Your breath was shallow and sharp, your heart loudly thrumming in your chest. Matt could feel the increase of your body temperature, the smell of your arousal clouding his mind as he heard your head fall back against the fridge. Your body clearly wanted a release, which countered what you said next.
"Matt, I don't think I can take another round of sex," you whispered. "I'm still sore from this morning. And literally all of the other times the past few days."
He leaned in, placing a soft kiss to your lips. When he broke away, Matt gradually kneeled down to the floor before you, his hands caressing the bare bit of your thighs that your shorts didn’t cover. He felt the prickle of goosebumps rise along your skin under his hands. He could also hear the pounding of your pulse in the artery along your inner thigh, the scent of your arousal strong beside his nose. 
He wanted you so damn bad right now. But he would never make you do anything.
Exhaling a sharp breath, he rested his forehead against your left thigh. "We don't have to do that," he replied quietly. "I just want to taste you. And I can be gentle, sweetheart." He leant forward, placing a kiss to your thigh and feeling the muscle twitch beneath his lips. "But you can say no. You can always say no."
Your hand was suddenly running through his hair, slow and tender. His eyelids lowered, lips parting as he let the taste of you in the air coat his tongue. A rumbling groan rolled its way up from his chest, the sound mingling with the music from your phone in the kitchen as your other hand began massaging his scalp, too. The feel of your hands on him wasn't helping the throbbing of his cock in his dress pants.
“If you have me, then I get to have you,” he heard you breathe out above him.
“ Fuck, sweetheart, ” Matt moaned.
His mouth opened, teeth lightly nipping at your thigh as his eyes clenched shut. Matt didn’t know how he’d gone so long without having you in his life. Foggy wasn’t wrong when he’d joked the other week saying that you had tamed the Devil–because like hell if he wouldn’t fall on his knees and worship you every chance he got. 
Releasing your thigh from his teeth, his hands made their way up towards the top of your shorts. Curling his fingers into the waistbands of both articles of clothing, he yanked down the shorts and your underwear in one swift movement, grinning when he heard your surprised gasp.
“Only if I get to have you first,” Matt purred out.
He tossed your clothes somewhere behind himself in the kitchen before gliding a hand up your thigh and towards your soaked folds. Humming in satisfaction, he ran a couple of fingers between them, coating them with your slick. You were so incredibly wet for him already. 
He slid a finger up towards your clit, catching the slight sigh that left your lips when the pad of his index finger gently grazed it. For a moment his eyes closed, reveling in the quiet, content noises you and your body made as he alternated his focus between lightly stimulating that sensitive bundle of nerves and teasing your soaked entrance, loving the way your back arched off of the fridge each time. One of your hands had fallen down to grip his shoulder, the other still lightly massaging his scalp as he continued to pleasure you–and like hell if it wasn’t only further stimulating him in return.
Eventually teasing you got to be far too much for Matt. With his left hand still massaging your right thigh, his other hand left your clit and instead reached down, gripping onto your calf. Abruptly he lifted it from the ground, grinning up at you when your hand roughly gripped his shoulder to balance yourself, a surprised yelp falling out of you. He raised your leg as high as he heard your body would comfortably let him, pinning it against the cold metal of the fridge door behind you. He heard the sound of your mouth opening, probably about to protest, but he immediately dove forward, swiping the flat of his tongue up the length of you. Instead of words, you released an indistinguishable noise of pleasure that had the smug grin returning to his lips. 
“You like that, sweetheart?” he asked.
“Mhmm,” you hummed back, head nodding quickly.
He heard the way your head fell back against the fridge with a soft thud after. Matt slid his tongue over you again, his eyes falling shut as he savored the taste of your slick on his tongue. Letting it linger in his mouth for a moment, he reveled in the heady, delicious taste of you before he finally swallowed it down with a throaty groan that had your fingers curling tighter in his hair. 
“I’m going to have my fill of you,” Matt breathed out, his face turning up towards where you were above him as he sent you a devilish smile. “And I want you to ride my face as hard as you want. You hear me?”
He heard the stutter of your heart in response to his demand before you cursed under your breath.
“Fuck, Matt,” you whined.
“Mmm,” he hummed, shaking his head as he lowered his face back towards your cunt before him. “Thought we couldn’t do that tonight?”
He chuckled as he heard you call him a smartass, but you didn’t remotely complain when he dove forward again, this time lapping at your entrance before slipping his tongue inside of you. All the while he held your right leg up against the refrigerator door in a firm grip, grinning when he felt it beginning to tremble as you began rhythmically grinding your cunt against his face. He intentionally pressed his nose against your clit, his mouth spurred on by the loud moans flying out of you and merging with the music still playing on your phone.
He was definitely going to have his fill of you tonight.
Tuesday 
Needing to catch up on laundry after you'd come home from work, you'd decided to skip making dinner tonight, figuring you and Matt could order something instead. You'd sent him a text earlier letting him know your plan before throwing a load of clothes into the washer. Matt had shown up from work shortly after, just when you'd managed to gather everything out of the dryer that neither of you had had the energy to deal with the past couple of days.
Now the pair of you were on opposite sides of the bed from each other, both focused on sorting out the last bit of laundry from the laundry basket on the mattress between the pair of you. You reached your hand in, pulling out another pair of your socks from the basket before you sorted them together along the bed. 
“I believe these are yours,” Matt’s playful tone cut through the silence.
You glanced up from your pile of socks at his voice, catching him holding a pair of your black, silk panties in his hands. He had a mischievous look on his face as he held them up, his fingers rubbing the fabric back and forth between them. They were definitely not your everyday underwear. Rolling your eyes at Matt, you reached a hand out to take them from him, but he immediately drew his hand back from your reach, a wide grin forming on his lips.
“On second thought, I don’t know if I’m quite done with these yet,” he teased.
“Matt, those are clean and I’d like them to stay that way for right now,” you said.
“Does that mean I can dirty up the ones you’re wearing now, then?” he asked, his head tilting to the side as his eyebrows rose up onto his forehead.
You gaped back at him, shock written across your face. “What?” you asked.
He held out the silk panties to you and you snatched them from his hand before he could pull them out of your reach again. Matt chuckled at your reaction, clearly amused that he’d riled you up a little. You watched as he reached into the almost empty laundry basket, pulling out another pair of his black boxers.
“If those are clean and I can’t dirty them up,” he began, “then it stands to reason that I can dirty up the underwear you’ve got on now.”
You reached into the basket, pulling out the last two pieces of clothing as you made a face. “Do I want to know what you mean by that?” you asked him. “Because I’m guessing you mean something sexual by that.”
“I definitely mean something sexual by that,” he answered you.
With a sigh you glanced up at Matt, raising a single brow at him. He picked up his neatly folded pile of black boxers, shooting you a cheeky smile from the otherside of the bed. 
“ How do you still want to have sex?” you asked him in astonishment. “Do you have a secret stash of performance pills around here somewhere?”
A bark of laughter flew out of Matt as he turned, making his way over to the dresser. You picked up some of your own neatly folded laundry, making your way to the dresser beside him to put them away.
“Oh sweetheart,” Matt purred, leaning over towards you when you were standing next to him, “I think we both know I don’t need any help in the bedroom.”
You felt your cheeks heat as you slid your clothes into the drawer before making your way back to the bed. Picking up the stack of your bras, you teased back, “Maybe you need help getting out of the bedroom.”
Matt laughed again, passing you on your way to the dresser as he made his way back to the bed to grab his stack of clean socks. 
“Pretty sure we’ve gotten out of the bedroom often in the past few days,” he joked back.
“Oh my God, Matt,” you said with a grin, rolling your eyes again as you put away your bras. “That isn’t what I meant and you know it.”
He chuckled, shaking his head at you as he returned to the dresser. He slipped his socks into the open drawer beside you, an amused smile on his lips. Closing the drawer you had open, you turned and rested your hip against the dresser, eyeing him curiously.
“What’s with all the sex though?” you asked him. 
Matt closed his drawer, turning and copying your body language as he leaned against the dresser, too. One of his dark brows rose up onto his forehead as he gazed back at you, his eyes landing on your chin. There was a cocky expression on his face that was only growing the longer he stared at you.
“You tell me,” he said. “I seem to recall someone getting turned on by me just innocently doing dishes the other day.”
“Okay, well you’re apparently turning into a horn dog over laundry ,” you shot back.
“Well in all fairness,” Matt began, “your scent has officially blended with mine here. Probably not something I imagine you can pick up on, but I can. And I like it.” 
He reached a hand out, grabbing onto your hip. You stiffened when his thumb slipped under your shirt, brushing back and forth along your skin.
“I like it a lot," he said huskily.
Drawing in a deep breath, you tried to focus the topic on something besides sex for the evening. Though the growing hunger in Matt’s eyes was making that difficult. 
"We should probably order dinner," you told him, clearing your throat. "Is there something you want?"
"You," he purred, a devilish smirk on his lips.
His whole hand slipped under your shirt next, the warmth of it hard to ignore as his palm slid up along your ribcage. Matt continued to stand there, leaning against the dresser and smirking back at you. He knew damn well what he was doing to you and he was doing it on purpose. It wasn't long before you began to feel that all too familiar urge to wipe the smirk off of his face growing within you.
A slow, sinful smile gradually drew itself across your lips as you stared back at him. You watched the way his eyes narrowed suspiciously at you in return, his head tilting to the side. The smirk on his face faltered a little.
"You want me, Matt?" you asked innocently.
Your hand landed on his forearm, your fingers lightly running along the dark hairs there. His hand gripped your ribcage under your shirt instantly in response. 
"Yes," he answered carefully. "But clearly you have something in mind."
"Well," you began slowly, "if you want me, then I think maybe tonight you should have to follow my rules, Matthew." You grabbed onto his thick forearm and tugged it out from underneath your shirt. "And the first rule is no touching me."
His lips parted in surprise as he stared back at you in stunned silence. You lowered Matt's hand to his side, the sly smile still on your mouth at how fast that smirk had just vanished from his.
“Sound like a game you want to play, Matty?” you questioned him.
"What's the second rule?" he asked huskily.
A thrill shot through you. You'd never done this with Matt before, but the thought of having power over him in a completely new way had you feeling smug for once. Because he was always teasing you, always riling you up. Hell, living with him was like constantly being teased by him, especially with the way this first week had gone so far. Seeing him everywhere you looked–seeing your lives blended together–had you constantly wanting him this week.
Enjoying the way he was quietly waiting on you to answer, your hands reached out and grabbed onto the knot of his tie, yanking him towards you. Your smile grew wider when he willingly stumbled forward a step.
"The second rule is that you only cum when I say you can," you told him, undoing the knot of his tie with your fingers. "Since you do that to me so often, I think it's about time I do it back to you."
Slowly you slipped his tie out from underneath his shirt collar, enjoying the way you saw his throat bob when he roughly swallowed at your words. Eyes glancing down, you saw the way his hands had curled into fists at his sides. Clearly you were having an effect on him already and that went straight to your cunt.
"What do you say, Matty?" you asked coyly, hands beginning to unbutton his shirt. "You still want me?"
"Yes," he answered immediately. 
Another little thrill shot through you at how fast he'd answered. You might enjoy this more than you'd initially thought. 
"Get undressed and get on the bed then," you ordered him.
Your hands grabbed onto the hem of your shirt as Matt’s hands replaced yours on his buttons. His fingers deftly flew through each one, undoing them with such speed that you found yourself impressed. You were barely sliding your cotton shorts down your legs when you saw Matt making his way back to the bed, tossing the laundry basket haphazardly onto the floor and out of the way before he climbed up onto it. 
Eyes following his movements, you watched as he sunk down onto his knees. His gaze was very intensely on you, his eyes focused along your chest as if he was tuned into your heartbeat. Chewing your lip, your eyes dropped down to his hardening cock that was expectantly waiting for you. Matt’s voice suddenly popped into your mind and you remembered all of those times that he’d taken control in the bedroom with you–ordering you around–and an idea quickly came to you.
Crossing your arms over your chest, your head canted to the side. “Touch yourself for me, Matty,” you ordered.
You grinned when you saw his eyebrows shoot up onto his forehead in surprise yet again, the corners of his own lips curling upwards at your boldness. Tonight you were certainly being far more brazen with him than you ever had been before. But watching as he grabbed his cock in his hand, beginning to stroke himself while he still focused on you, was definitely worth stepping out of your comfort zone for. Because it was certainly a mental image you were going to store away for later.
Except, he looked far too cocky right now on the bed. That smirk was back on his lips and you were determined to knock it off of him tonight. Eyes narrowing back at him, you uncrossed your arms, one hand slowly sliding its way down your stomach and towards your clit. A burst of pleasure raced through you the moment you began circling the sensitive bud, a soft moan leaving you. Matt’s smirk slowly faded from his mouth as his hand stuttered to a halt along his cock.
“I didn’t say stop, Matty,” you reminded him.
He audibly sucked in a sharp breath, his hand gradually continuing its movement. Biting your lip, you slid two fingers further downward, dipping them into yourself with a wet sound that you knew was loud enough for his ears to catch by the way his eyes clamped shut. 
“You smell so good ,” he whispered.
"Do I?" you breathed out, slowly sliding your fingers in and out of yourself. “Someone want a taste?” you asked coyly, sliding your fingers back out.
“Yes– fuck . Please, yes,” he begged, his chest beginning to heave.
Crossing your way towards the bed, you slowly held out your hand towards him. Matt’s lips parted expectantly, his head turning up towards you. Instead you grabbed him by the chin with your fingers, hearing the slight whine he emitted just before you leaned in to kiss him. 
You assumed the scent of your arousal along his chin–with you denying him the taste of it on his tongue–had driven him further into a frenzy. He began fiercely kissing you, his lips ravenously connecting to yours over and over as he practically growled against your mouth. His teeth were biting and pulling against your bottom lip, his hand working himself even faster. The sight of his urgent desire for you drew out a low moan from within your own chest. 
Releasing his chin, you straightened beside the bed. With another rumbling growl, Matt’s free hand released the tight grip he’d had on the silk sheets and flew out towards your hip, but you immediately shifted to the side just as he’d remembered the rule you’d given him. His hand hung there in the air just inches from your waist, a frustrated noise coming from Matt.
“You know, for someone who likes to tease excessively, you sure can’t handle much of it in return,” you pointed out.
Matt grunted in response, his hand halting its movements on his cock. You could already see the glisten of pre-cum on his fingers, but you refrained from saying anything about him not following directions because you caught the abrupt shift in his demeanor to something…else.
“Because I’m aware of vastly more going on with your body than you are of mine,” he replied through clenched teeth. “Takes far more control than you think for me to not touch you right now. You know I love when you let loose with me, sweetheart. And this is…the most comfortable you’ve ever been with me. But it’s also so–” he rumbled a noise in his chest that sounded like the Devil growling now, “– tempting not to listen to you.”
A shiver ran down your spine at his words and his tone of voice. One of these days you would be tempted yourself to see what happened if you pushed the Devil just far enough. But tonight was not the night for that.
“I’ll show you some mercy tonight,” you conceded. “But the rules still stand: you still can’t touch me and you still can’t cum until I give you permission. Think you can handle that much, Devil?”
Matt’s eyes narrowed back at you, that dark look on his face still present. After a moment, he gave you a single nod.
“That’s my good Devil. Now lay down,” you ordered. 
Gradually Matt drew his legs out from underneath himself, slowly lowering onto his back on the bed as he continued to focus on you with that darkened expression. You delighted in watching his naked form as he moved, enjoying the movement of his muscles along his arms and abdomen visibly shifting. 
Matthew Murdock was unbelievably beautiful– especially naked and wound up.
“You’re enjoying this,” he rumbled out.
You climbed up onto the bed, throwing a leg over his hips so you were straddling him. Hands landing on his chest, you lightly scratched your nails upwards towards his shoulders and then gradually back down towards his hips. You saw the goosebumps raise along his skin as you did, his head rolling back just a bit along the pillow in pleasure as he moaned out.
“So are you,” you pointed out.
Reaching a hand down, you grabbed onto the base of Matt’s cock, grinning when you heard him groan at the touch. Carefully you lined him up with your entrance before very deliberately sinking down onto him, your eyes closing as your cunt stretched around his girth. Matt loosed a curse into the bedroom, your eyes opening in time to catch him roughly fisting the sheets in both of his large hands.
Leaning forward, your hands landed on his broad shoulders as your face hovered above his. His eyelids fluttered open, his eyes hooded with lust as they landed along your cheek.
“Be a good Devil for me now,” you whispered, leaning down to kiss his lips lightly. “And I won’t make you wait too long to cum.”
“ Fucking hell ,” he growled. “Sweetheart, you’re going to regret– ahhh, fuck !”
Grinning at how he’d broken off mid-sentence when your hips slowly rocked against him, your nails bit into his shoulders. Setting a slow, delicious pace, you began to fuck Matt, a pleased hum leaving you at the feel of him inside of you. Matt's breath quickly came in short pants, a series of whimpers falling out of his lips. 
“So hard not to–to touch you,” he breathed out.
“You’re doing so good for me, Matty,” you praised.
Reaching a hand up, you stroked his cheek, enjoying the rasp of his beard against your fingers. Matt immediately nuzzled into your palm, pressing his cheek further into it as his brows pinched together. You continued rhythmically riding his cock at your leisurely pace, thumb stroking the length of his cheekbone. 
“You’re so beautiful, Matt,” you murmured.
A slow, euphoric smile slipped across his lips, his eyes opening as he focused around your face. “Getting a little–little sentimental on me right now, sweetie?” he panted out with an amused huff. “Already losing your edge?”
You shook your head, the grin still on your mouth. "Not a chance, Matthew," you assured him. "I still want to hear you beg."
Hips picking up their pace, you watched as his eyelids closed again. Your hand returned to his shoulder as you leaned in close to his ear, noticing the way he shuddered when your breath tickled his skin.
"Because I know how much you fall apart for praise," you whispered into his ear.
Beneath you, Matt's back arched off of the bed, his cock burying itself further into you as he did. With a soft gasp, your nails dug even further into his shoulders. Encouraged by your grip, Matt’s own hips began thrusting upwards into you, meeting your hips roughly and matching your pace.
"Mmm, that's my good Devil," you whispered into his ear. "But you're not cumming yet. I'm not quite done with you."
Matt loosed a loud groan through the bedroom at your words, his head once again rolling back along the pillow. His teeth ground together as he hissed out a sharp breath between them, his hips sharply fucking up into you so hard that your eyes briefly rolled back. 
You were definitely going to enjoy riling up the Devil tonight. 
Wednesday 
A loud crack of thunder rolled through the city, the sound echoing off the tall buildings and managing to cut straight through what had been a peaceful, deep sleep. Matt gradually grew alert on the bed, taking a moment to orient himself with his senses as he lay there. From the lack of extra noise among the tenants in his building, the quieter noises coming up from the streets of Hell’s Kitchen below, and your deep, even breaths beside him, he realized it was either still quite late or very early.
Outside the apartment, the rain soon came down against the windows in a steady, almost soothing downpour. The sound was somewhat relaxing–something akin to white noise–making it easier for Matt to ignore many of the extra noises of the city outside his apartment. He closed his eyes again, trying to focus back on falling asleep. Occasionally the rain felt like it had a dampening effect when he was in his apartment, which often helped lull Matt into a deeper sleep at night. Thunder, on the other hand, often disrupted it–as did the loud rumbling crack of another thunderous boom that roared through Hell’s Kitchen. 
Tuning into your body pressed to the front of him, Matt's tired mind tried to focus on the soft, rhythmic exhalations leaving you. Your heart was beating at a calm, level pace as you slept, the sound always a comfort to Matt. Readjusting his hold around your waist, he shifted along the back of you, drawing himself even closer to your warm, almost bare body. His head rested on the same pillow just behind yours, his mouth right above your shoulder. 
As he relaxed further into the mattress, trying to get comfortable while he focused on you instead of the storm, his lips accidentally brushed along your shoulder. Matt inhaled deeply, the scent of your peach shampoo and your soft skin filling his nose. The faint taste of just you lingered on his mouth from where his lips had just grazed you and he found his tongue drowsily slipping out to taste you from them again. He moaned quietly, the noise blending in with the sound of the rain outside. 
Leaning a bit forward, he placed a barely there kiss on the top of your shoulder. With his mouth lingering against your skin, Matt contentedly hummed out a faint pleased noise as something slowly stirred awake within himself. He never could seem to get over just how soft your skin was, or how intoxicating it was to taste. Whether it was the taste of your lips themselves, or the delicate skin of your neck, the soft swell of your breasts, the inviting expanse of your shoulders, or the delicious, addicting taste of your cunt, Matt could never get enough. He always was left wanting more of you. 
His arm unconsciously tightened around your waist, his hips pressing forward into you. His bare cock twitched awake as he slotted himself between the roundness of your ass, the silk of your underwear not as satisfying to him as just feeling you against his own skin. A rumbling noise vibrated in his throat as another crack of thunder rang through the bedroom.
Matt placed another kiss on your shoulder, his tongue slipping out to taste even more of you as he did. Briefly the thought flickered in his mind that he should stop. You both had work in the morning and he didn’t want either of you to be tired. There was a part of him that didn't want to wake you just because the storm had woken him. But the moment the tip of his tongue swiped along your skin and he caught the taste of you on it, his eyes clamped shut even tighter and a strangled whine left him. 
He needed you. 
Matt leaned further forward, his nose tracing up the length of your neck, his parted lips grazing your bare skin at the same time. He could feel you stirring awake beside him, your skin dotting with goosebumps beneath his hands. Your breath immediately hitched in your throat, your heart beat no longer steady and even but a sharp staccato in his ears as you gradually awoke. 
“Matt?” your sleep-riddled voice whispered out.
He almost purred at the sound of it. Your voice alone could do things to him, things he didn't quite understand himself. He nuzzled into your neck before placing an open-mouthed kiss along the skin there. He just needed more of you, especially after the frustrating night he'd had as the Devil earlier.
And then there it was–the faint scent of your arousal hitting his nose. A slow, satisfied smile crept its way along his lips. Without fail, he so easily always managed to turn you on. He would never tire of how your body reacted to him. 
"Matty, what're you–"
He sucked a patch of skin just beneath your jaw into his mouth, your question dying on your lips as you audibly inhaled a sharp breath. He felt your ass shift against his rapidly hardening cock, a quiet sigh falling out between your lips next. He released the skin from his mouth, his nose rubbing along the line of your jaw. One of Matt's hands released your waist, slowly sliding its way up your stomach and continuing further upwards.
"The storm woke me," he quietly explained, his large hand palming the soft mound of your breast. "Tried to focus on you to fall back asleep, but–" he inhaled the scent of your arousal in the air deeply, salivating at the faint taste of it in his mouth, "–you were distracting."
He felt both of your hands latch onto his wrists, felt the sting of your nails biting into his skin. A hiss of pleasure flew from him and he ground his aching cock back into your ass even more firmly. 
" Sweetheart ," he moaned, shifting so his mouth was beside your ear when he spoke next. "Your body is begging me," he whispered, enjoying the shudder that ran through you. "Can I have you? Please?"
"Baby," you whimpered, ass eagerly grinding back against him as you nodded along the pillow. "Yes, yes. Need you, Matty."
Without waiting for further encouragement, his fingers gently tugged at your nipple. You gasped in surprise, your nails further biting into his wrists. Further spurred on by the noises of pleasure coming from you, his other hand slid down from your waist, slipping past the waistband of your silk underwear. He immediately found his way between your folds, growling at how wet you already were when he touched you. 
"Oh, sweetheart ," he breathed out, running his two fingers back and forth between your slick. God, you were soaked already. "You want me this badly?"
He felt your head shift over your shoulder towards him, a desperate noise barely escaping you. It sounded like a muffled whine stuck in your throat and it had Matt's cock throbbing with need. 
"Yes, baby," you answered softly. "Always."
His teeth grit together at the term of endearment he usually only heard from you in moments like these. But the truth in your words had a sharp grunt barreling out of him as his two fingers made their way towards your clit. The moment he grazed it he felt your back arch against him, a little moan coming from you in response. 
"That feel good, sweetie?” he asked.
His lips began trailing slow, sweet kisses along your neck, his two fingers gently circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. He felt another shudder shoot through your body, your breath catching yet again.
“Yes,” you whispered back. 
He felt one of your hands release its hold on his wrist, reaching back behind yourself and towards him. You managed to grab his bare ass and another whimper fell out of you. He smiled against your neck, running his nose back and forth against you when he felt you practically clawing at it as he continued the ministrations of his fingers along your clit. You really had a thing for his ass.
“ More ,” you begged.
His fingers slid down, teasing your soaked entrance. You whined and quickly shook your head. Matt’s brows knitted together in confusion. But then he felt your hand leave his ass, blindly finding its way to his cock. His hips twitched when your fingers curled around the girth of him, your head turning over your shoulder towards him again.
“I want you ,” you whispered.
You began stroking him, your arm twisted behind your back at an awkward angle as you did. Your hand felt so fucking good on him, but it wasn’t what he wanted to feel, either. He knew exactly what you’d meant. A rumbling noise left Matt, the sound of the storm outside entirely forgotten to him now as he focused solely on you. 
His fingers quickly slipped out of your underwear, sliding down the front of them until he hooked the damp fabric between his fingers and tugged it to the side. Your hand soon released him, flying out in front of yourself to grip a handful of the silk sheets. Behind you, Matt’s hand landed on your hips, shifting you where he needed you before he grasped onto the base of his cock and lined it up with your entrance. 
He heard the sharp inhale of your breath the moment the tip of him barely pushed into you. Your hips eagerly ground back against him, silently begging him to fill you. Without hesitation, Matt gradually plunged himself fully inside of your wet cunt, reveling in the delicious twitch of your muscles contracting all around him as you adjusted to fit him. His eyes fluttered closed, a low moan falling from his lips. You were so warm and wet and tight. 
You felt perfect .
Matt continued to knead the breast he’d had in his palm, his other hand making its gradual way back to where it had been working your clit. He heard you curse under your breath, your head turning over your shoulder towards him. Knowing exactly what you’d wanted, his mouth landed on yours. While his hips set a rhythmic, steady pace as he pumped into you, his mouth placed soft, lingering kiss after soft, lingering kiss against yours. 
Eventually he heard the way your hand released the sheets you’d been gripping. Instead, he felt you turn at the waist as he continued to lovingly roll his hips forward into you over and over, your hand coming up to tenderly cup his cheek. Matt’s tongue slid along your bottom lip in a slow glide, a beautiful whine falling out of you in return and meeting his ears. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, lapping languorously against your own. 
And that was how the night carried on, with Matt’s hips sensually rolling forward into yours repeatedly as you eagerly tried to match his pace with your own hips, the pair of you attached at the mouth and panting heavily between kisses. The roll of thunder and steady patter of rain became nothing but muted background noise to Matt as he listened to every sound of pleasure coming from you.
Thursday 
You’d had a long week at the Bulletin and you were happy as hell that tomorrow was finally Friday. While things had been great between Matt and you this first week of living together–more than great when it came to your sex lives, and your aching cunt was proof of that–you’d still been stressed at work. There was a story you’d been struggling with writing and it had been frustrating you to no end for the past few days. Though admittedly, the constant sex with Matt this week had been helping you relieve your frustration when you were off of work, even if it was incredibly distracting. 
But he wasn’t home right now because he was out as Daredevil, scouring the rooftops and beating up bad guys this evening. Which was fine, it wasn’t the first time he’d gone out doing just that while you were together–certainly not the first time this week–and it definitely wouldn’t be the last time. You'd quickly grown accustomed to his occasional absences in the evening, even if you still found yourself worrying about him.
A little while ago you had decided to put your laptop away, forget about work, and get cozy on the couch with one of your shows. Even though it was still strange being able to watch your shows on an actual television in Matt’s living room, you’d curled up under his plaid blanket and gotten comfortable. And that was where you'd remained the duration of the evening, waiting for his inevitable return.
You’d managed to get through a few episodes of the comedy you were watching before you finally heard the roof access door swing open. Instantly your head rose from the pillow you’d been resting on, glancing up at Matt’s Daredevil-clad form. You winced when he slammed the door shut behind himself, the loud noise reverberating around the apartment. Peeling his gloves from his hands, he aggressively stalked his way over to the stairs. His boots hit each step on his descent down them with a heavy thud . Absolutely everything about his body language told you that he’d had an awful night out as the Devil and he was internally fuming .
When he’d reached the last step, pulling the helmet from his head with one hand, you thought you might say something to him. Maybe ask if there was something you could do to help him relax. But the moment you’d opened your mouth, drawing in the slightest breath, Matt’s head snapped in your direction and you froze. His jaw was clenched and his eyes almost looked black. Your mouth immediately closed. Clearly, Matt was not in the mood for talking right now.
Settling back onto the couch, you watched as he made his way towards the closet behind the two armchairs to your left. He roughly yanked the doors open before opening the lid of his father’s steamer trunk. You heard the heavy drop of his gloves and his helmet, moments later hearing the sound of his billy clubs dropping into the trunk next. Silently you watched him kneel down, untying the laces of his boots one at a time. When he finished, both boots were gruffly disposed of into the trunk before he was standing back up, reaching for the zipper behind himself along his back.
Your eyes openly lingered on the gradual reveal of Matt’s muscled back as the zipper of his suit slowly exposed himself to you. He released the zipper once he’d undone the suit all the way down just to the top of his ass where you could see the waistband of his boxers peeking out. Biting your lip, you watched the muscles of his back flex and pull as he took a minute to slide one skin tight sleeve off of himself before removing the other. And then he bent over, his round, muscular ass directly in your line of sight as he slowly stripped the suit down each of his legs. Once he’d slipped the armor entirely off of himself, he was left in nothing but those tight, black boxers he always wore. 
You could feel yourself getting turned on despite how irritated he seemed. You couldn’t help but watch as he folded his suit up in obvious frustration before stuffing it in the steamer trunk. He slammed the lid of it down a bit harder than necessary before he rose to his now bare feet, shutting the doors to the closet. Afterwards, he turned swiftly towards you, his focus easily finding you on the couch where you suddenly stopped breathing under the weight of his stare. His entire body looked tense, his shoulders tight and the muscles twitching in his cheeks.
“I’m going to shower,” he stated simply.
He stood there a moment, running a hand across his forehead as he stared back at you. You only nodded, unable to trust your voice. Because he had to know you were aroused right now with his senses, but he must have had a bad enough night out as Daredevil that he hadn’t even remotely wanted to remark on it.
Wordlessly Matt stalked off down the hall to the bathroom, flipping on the light and closing the door partially behind himself. Seconds later you heard the shower turn on. You tried your best to ignore the thought of Matt naked and soon to be wet under the spray of water in the other room. Though admittedly trying to force your thoughts away from everything sexual that was running through your mind now wasn’t easy. Attention returning to the show you’d been watching, you readjusted yourself on the couch and made yourself comfortable all over again. 
Inevitably your gaze wandered back to the bathroom when you distinctly heard the glass door of the shower shut. Eyes narrowing, you stared at the light peaking through the crack of the bathroom door. Because why would Matt have turned the light on to shower? You knew he hated the buzz that lights emitted, and if he was frustrated, that extra noise would’ve only irritated him further. He had no use for the light anyway, he only ever turned lights on in a room when it was meant for your benefit.
It was a second before the realization hit you, your eyes growing wide. He definitely had noticed you were in the mood when he’d been stripping out of his suit, then. Turning the bathroom light on and keeping the door partially open must’ve been a sort of silent invitation for you. Maybe he’d been too riled up to use his words, or maybe…
Maybe Matt wanted something more than the sweet love making you both often had together. Maybe he wanted something even more than the naughty, playful sex, too. Maybe he needed something more tonight to relieve his frustration.
Something more like rough sex with a wound up and irritated Devil.
Because you knew Matt. And you knew he probably wouldn’t quite know how to verbalize what he wanted, let alone feel comfortable enough asking for that. He hated the thought of hurting you. But you’d encountered this with him a few times before, knowing that when he was this uptight returning from a patrol that hadn’t gone well as Daredevil, he usually needed a release. And he often enjoyed using you as that release–rather roughly, too.
Bottom lip slipping between your teeth, you immediately sat upright on the couch. You were more than willing to let him fuck you. The thought of him loosing the Devil on you already had a dampness forming between your thighs. You loved the sharp, rough edges of Matt just as much as you loved the sensitive, soft sides. And it had been awhile since you’d seen the Devil make an appearance in your sex life.
Tossing the blanket off of yourself, you turned off the television and rose from the couch before making your way down the hall and towards the bathroom. You slowly pushed open the bathroom door, stepping inside. You could see him washing himself through the frosted glass of the shower doors, making no move to acknowledge that you were in the bathroom. But he obviously knew you were there–especially with how aroused you were and how much you’d come to learn this week that scent alone easily affected him. There was no way he couldn’t smell it.
Grabbing the hem of your shirt, you slipped it up and over your head, your bare breasts exposed to the warm steam wafting through the bathroom as you tossed the article of clothing to the ground. Slipping your fingers inside both your sleep shorts and your underwear’s waistband, you slid them down your legs before they dropped to the floor. You stepped out of them, hesitantly making your way over to the shower before slowly sliding the glass door back.
You hesitated just outside of it, one hand lingering on the glass as Matt’s head once again abruptly snapped in your direction. He was standing under the spray of the water, his dark hair soaked and clinging to him. Your eyes followed a few beads of water as they raced down his scarred and toned chest, your pulse increasing at the sight. You could see the obvious tension in his muscles as you quietly took in the sight of him naked before you. 
“Do you…need some help coming down from tonight?” you asked him.
Your eyes caught the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides, nostrils flaring as he expelled a sharp breath.
“Would that be too much?” he gruffly questioned back.
“No,” you answered, shaking your head as you finally stepped into the shower. “I love all the sides of you, Matthew. I’ve told you that before.”
You turned around, sliding the shower door closed after yourself as some of the warm spray overhead began to cascade down your back. A surprised gasp fell out of you when you felt Matt’s hands suddenly grabbing your hips, his fingers firmly digging into your skin. Even you felt the way your pulse stuttered in response, his chin hovering just over your left shoulder.
“Are you sure?” the dark, gravelly voice you knew as the Devil asked, his mouth just beside your ear. “Because I have no desire to be gentle tonight, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you.”
You inhaled a deep breath, excitement shooting through you at his words and the tone he’d spoken them with. It had been far too long since he’d let himself loose with you like this. Turning your head just over your shoulder, you spotted the wild look in his eyes. That only thrilled you further.
“I’ve told you before, Matty,” you whispered back. “Sometimes I like when you hurt me.”
His fingers dug into your hips even further, his lip pulling back into something akin to an animalistic snarl. A second later he’d shoved you up against the shower door, the cold glass pressed entirely to the front of you a sharp contrast to the warm water falling down your body. You could feel the heat from Matt’s naked body radiating off of him with how close he was standing behind you now, but it wasn't quite close enough to touch yours.
“You can say no,” Matt’s deep voice reminded you.
Head still turned over your shoulder, your cheek pressed against the glass of the shower door, your eyes remained fixed on his face. 
“But I’m saying yes,” you whispered back.
A growl tore out of Matt as he yanked you away from the door, roughly turning you around towards himself before he slammed his mouth hard onto yours. His hands snaked their way around to your back, his blunt fingernails digging into your skin as he drew you in tight, crushing you to the front of himself. You could feel his already hard cock pressed between your slick bodies as his teeth gnashed at your bottom lip. A hiss of pleasure slipped from your mouth as your hands flew up, your own nails clawing at his thick biceps that held you firmly to him.
Matt’s mouth quickly retreated from yours, his teeth snapping at your earlobe before shifting downwards to your neck. As your head fell back over your shoulders, your eyes closing, you felt him nipping along the length of your collarbone. The sharpness of his bites was quickly soothed by the warm water running down the pair of you, Matt’s name slipping from between your lips as a moan. 
Matt responded instantly to the sound of it, quickly spinning you before slamming your back into the tile wall of the shower. His flushed face hovered just before yours, his chest heaving as he stared hungrily back at you. He looked absolutely wild with his dark gaze fixed along your cheek.
“You cum when I say or you don’t cum at all,” he ordered, his eyebrows rising onto his forehead, a cocky smile on his face as he repeated to you what you'd said to him the other night. “And you don't touch yourself unless I say so. Am I clear?”
“Mhmm,” you hummed out, nodding quickly.
One of his hands shot out between the pair of you so fast that you didn’t realize he’d even moved until you felt him gripping you by the neck. His hold was just firm enough to put pressure on your throat, just enough without actually hurting you, as he pinned you to the wall. Your thighs clenched together, more wet heat building between them as you squirmed against the shower wall. You just wanted to feel him inside of you already.
“Use your words,” Matt demanded gruffly. “Am I clear?”
“Yes, Matt,” you answered immediately.
That smug smirk remained on his lips as he stared back at you pinned to the wall by your throat.  His tongue slipped out slow and purposeful between his lips, his eyes momentarily closing in pleasure. You heard a low, rumbling noise stir deep from within his chest.
“You really do like this, don’t you?” he asked, that low, gravely tone of the Devil slipping out as he opened his eyes. “You like it when I’m rough with you?”
His hand tightened a little further around your throat and your hips desperately ground forward, searching for him. He shifted just out of your reach and you whined in response. 
“Yes,” you answered him.
“You want my cock?” he asked next.
You nodded vigorously in response. “Yes, Matt, yes.”
That self-satisfied smirk drew itself across his lips once again, that dark look never leaving his face. “Then you’re going to beg me for it, sweetheart. Turn around,” he ordered.
He released his hold on your throat and you obediently spun on the spot. There was not a single thought in your mind besides how badly you wanted to feel him fucking you right now. Pressing the front of yourself to the shower wall, you looked over your shoulder at him behind you, waiting for instruction.
You saw Matt’s hand draw back just a bit before he swung it forward, the sharp crack of the slap he landed on your ass echoing through the shower. You could feel the desperate ache of your cunt begging for him to fill you as the sharp sting remained long after his palm had left your ass.
“Beg me to fuck you,” Matt ordered.
“Please, Matt,” you breathed out. “I’ve missed you all night. I was–was waiting for you to come home. Needed you.”
“Yeah?” he asked.
His hand drew back again before he landed another sharp slap against your ass. His palm lingered this time, briefly soothing the sting before he brutishly grabbed the soft mound of flesh and squeezed. Your eyes clamped shut, your ass pressing back into him in search of more.
“I need you,” you whined. “Need you to fill me, Matt. Fuck me until I can’t think–until I can’t walk.”
A pleased rumble sounded from him behind you, both of Matt’s hands playing with your ass he roughly kneaded the flesh between them. You could feel the slick steadily dripping down between your thighs now, your fingers uselessly gripping at the tile wall.
“Haven’t had enough of my cock?” he shot back. “Been fucking you all week and you still want more?”
“Mhmm,” you hummed out, nodding quickly. “Always want more. Always need you.”
Matt groaned loudly at your words, his hands sliding up from your ass to grip your hips. You felt him grind his hard cock against your ass and you soon realized how much he’d enjoyed hearing that.
“Please let me have you, Matt,” you begged, desperation creeping into your voice. “Please fuck me. I need you, baby. Need to feel you inside of me. No one–” a surprised gasp fell out of you as two of his fingers began teasing your entrance. “No one makes me feel as–as good as you do,” you panted out, eyes closing when he dipped his fingers inside of you.
“So wet for me,” he growled out. 
You felt him abruptly thrust both thick digits all the way into you and your forehead dropped forward against the shower wall. A cry slipped out of you as a warm wash of bliss flooded your body at finally receiving something from him. Matt’s mouth came down to your shoulder, his teeth sinking firmly into your skin as a snarl rippled out of him. There was nothing gentle about the way he continued fingering you against the tile wall, though. Every aggressive pump emitted a loud, squelching noise as your hands helplessly clawed at the tile, your ragged breaths loud in your own ears. Matt’s teeth released your shoulder a few moments later, his lips just grazing your earlobe.
“I didn’t say you could stop begging,” he reminded you. “And you aren’t cumming yet, sweetheart.”
His fingers slipped out of you and you whined instantly at the loss of contact. Your body aching with desire, you spun around to see Matt had backed away from you. Inevitably your eyes dropped down from the lustful expression on his face to the particular appendage you most desired. Tongue slipping out to wet your lips, you stared longingly at him.
“You want it?” he asked.
“Yes,” you whispered.
“Then show me,” the gravelly voice of the Devil demanded.
Taking a step towards him, you quickly sunk down to your knees on the wet floor before him. Without hesitation, you eagerly took him into your mouth, your nails running along his thighs as you did. One of Matt’s hands landed on the back of your head, fisting your hair firmly in his grip as he held on tight. His other hand roughly cupped a breast as he bent forward, firmly kneading the flesh in his hand. He loosed a loud moan that echoed in the shower, the warm spray falling over the pair of you as you vigorously sucked his cock. You couldn’t resist the urge to press your thighs together at the sound of his pleasure, your hips absently rocking as you searched for friction. But that only encouraged Matt’s grip to tighten on your hair.
“I told you that you cum when I say or you don’t cum at all,” Matt warned. “Are you going to listen to me?”
You immediately stopped your movements, humming an affirmative noise in response that had Matt moaning out as it vibrated against his cock. You knew how much that affected him every time you did it. One well placed moan while he was in your mouth could have him cumming instantly. 
His grip eased on your hair. “That’s my good, sweet girl,” he praised. “Now show me how bad you want me.”
Friday
Standing shoulder to shoulder with Matt at the bedroom closet–and trying your best to ignore his distracting presence as he stood clad in nothing but a pair of his black boxers–you undid the top buttons of the blouse you were planning to wear to work, sliding it off the hanger. Beside you, Matt's hands slowly ran over the various tags on the different hangers of his suits. Your gaze flickered towards them at the movement, watching the way his fingers deliberately ran over the braille of each tag while he searched for the suit he was going to wear today. Every morning when he did this it always held your attention for far longer than necessary, and you swore he intentionally read slower because he knew. 
Your tongue slid out, wetting your lips as you blinked hard and forced yourself to tear your attention away from his hands. With a hard swallow, you tried to focus back on getting yourself ready for work. Putting your arms through the sleeves of your blouse, you shifted your attention downwards as you began buttoning it up. Though you'd barely buttoned a handful of buttons before you heard Matt huff out an amused breath beside you. 
Fingers pausing their movement, your gaze gradually slid up towards Matt's face. There was a self-satisfied smirk on his lips as he slid his arms into the sleeves of his dark blue dress shirt, his bottom half still clad in his black boxers as he stared back at you. Quirking a brow at him as he stood beside you, you had a feeling you knew what that look was about. 
"We can make time, sweetheart," Matt said, his gaze dropping down as he also began buttoning up his own shirt now. "I told you that earlier."
Unable to stop yourself, your eyes dropped down to his fingers, watching as they deftly slid a button through the hole in his shirt before they slowly shifted to the button above it, repeating the action. It was a moment before you realized your own fingers were still holding onto the button you’d stopped on of your blouse. Clearing your throat, you once again tore your eyes away from his hands, but you couldn't deny there was a part of you considering his offer now.
"I told you, I can't be late for work, Matt," you repeated for the fourth time this morning.
"There's been an attempted robbery near fifty-sixth and tenth," Matt informed you. "Police apprehended the suspect, but you could always use it as an excuse. Foot traffic is slowed because they’ve had to block off the area." He shrugged a shoulder. "Tell Ellison it slowed you down on your walk to work. That you were investigating for a possible story. He won't know you were actually late because we had sex."
"Matt," you whined, hands dropping to your sides as you turned completely towards him. "How are we going to ever accomplish anything living together if we can't keep our hands to ourselves for a single day?"
Matt chuckled, his hands falling from his own partially buttoned shirt as he copied your movements, turning and facing you. "I am absolutely not complaining about the increase in sex,” he teased.
You rolled your eyes before crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m serious, Matt,” you grumbled. “We need to figure out a way to take a bit of a breather.”
“If I recall correctly, you’re the one who woke up aroused,” Matt pointed out.
“Because you were humping my ass, Matt,” you countered.
“Because you were moaning my name in your sleep and literally dripping, sweetheart,” Matt snapped back. “You think it’s that easy for me to just ignore that?” He took a step towards you, towering above you with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw. “This whole place permanently smells like your pheromones and half the time it smells like your arousal when you’re just looking at me. I can barely breathe without getting turned on and wanting to fuck you.”
Something stirred within you at his words and that edge to his voice. It wasn’t fair that you found him sexy when he got irritated, but admittedly you hadn’t thought about how you living here would constantly affect him. You hadn’t thought about the way your scent would mix with his and turn him on–something he’d been telling you the other day–or how he’d often have to smell you aroused and have that scent lingering in the apartment all the time, too.
“You’re getting aroused right fucking now, too, I can smell you,” he pointed out.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered automatically.
Matt’s expression fell instantly at the tone of your voice, the tension easing out of his shoulders as he ran a hand across his mouth. Shaking his head, he focused back on you. “Don’t–don’t apologize, sweetheart. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. You’re not doing anything wrong.”
“You’re right though,” you agreed. “You do pick up on all these other things that I don’t and I can’t imagine how difficult it is for you to not act on anything. Because I have a hard time refraining sometimes. And it–it doesn’t help that I love you and I just always want to be with you like that. And there’s the whole, you know, excitement of everything,” you admitted shyly.
A grin tentatively slipped back onto Matt’s face as he hummed out a curious noise. “Excitement of what, exactly, sweetheart?” he asked. 
“Of us living together,” you answered nervously. “Waking up and falling asleep next to you all of the time. Spending our evenings together. And our weekends. And–and what living together might mean for the future,” you added softly.
Matt’s hands reached out, smoothing the hair from your face before both of his large palms cradled it between his hands. He lowered his forehead towards yours, his eyes closing as he did.
“You’ve been thinking about the future?” he whispered.
“Yes,” you answered.
“And that’s also why you’re such a horn dog yourself this week?” he teased.
You couldn’t resist the snort of a laugh that fell out of you, Matt’s smile only widening on his face at the sound. 
“In very simple terms, yes,” you admitted, eyelids lowering as you felt his thumbs brushing back and forth along your cheeks. “But also, I’m not used to seeing you wander around fresh out of the shower performing domestic tasks. Honestly, the fact that you clean is a turn on in itself.”
“I see the bar isn’t very high for you,” Matt teased.
“I guess not,” you joked back.
Silence fell between the pair of you as you both stood there in front of the closet, Matt’s forehead still pressed to yours as his hands still cupped your cheeks. You became very aware of the increase in your pulse and the way Matt’s lips had parted, his hot breath rolling out of his mouth and landing against yours. Swallowing hard, your hands reached up, slowly grasping onto Matt’s forearms and rumpling the fabric of his dress shirt. Matt’s nose lightly bumped yours, the gesture causing your lips to involuntarily part. 
“I’m sorry for being an ass this morning,” he whispered, his lips brushing yours as he spoke. “It just takes a lot to resist the pull I have for you.”
“I’m sorry for not initially being more understanding,” you murmured, hands sliding up to grip his biceps. “Didn’t realize how hard it would be for you to adjust to me being here.”
Matt’s lips connected to yours for a moment, lingering in a sweet kiss. Your grip tightened around his arms in response before he pulled away from you just a fraction.
“I love having you here,” he assured you. “Please don’t think otherwise.”
“I know,” you whispered, lips drawing into a smile. “You tell me that at least ten times a day, Matty.”
He leaned forward, placing a peck to your lips that had you giggling.
“Just want to make sure you know,” he replied.
“We uh, we do need to figure out the constantly being distracted by sex thing though,” you told him. “Because it’s–it’s getting a little out of hand.”
Matt hummed out a noise of agreement before he turned the pair of you just a bit to your left and began to walk you backwards. Your brows furrowed together as he did, watching as Matt’s lips drew into a playful smile. It was only a few steps before you felt your back hit the wall beside the closet. 
“We do need to figure that out,” Matt agreed huskily. 
His hands slid their way down your neck, continuing their descent over your exposed chest where your bra was on display because your blouse still remained unbuttoned, eventually making their way down to your hips. His face was hovering just a few inches from yours now, that familiar look of desire darkening his eyes as they stared hungrily back at you. 
“But maybe we can figure it out this weekend,” he suggested. “Because right now all I can think about is fucking you against this wall.”
As if to emphasize his point, his hips rutted forward into you with just enough force that your back hit the wall and a gasp slipped out of your lips. You’d certainly noticed how hard he was through his boxers and your eyelids fluttered shut as you whispered a curse. 
“Just be late for work this once,” he pleaded. “I’ll make it worth it.”
Bottom lip rolling between your teeth as Matt ground his hips forward into you again, you took a moment to consider his offer. Truthfully your cunt was sore from the use it had gotten this past week since you’d moved in with Matt, and even some of your muscles were sore from all of the different positions he had managed to contort you into throughout the week. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t mind going into work today and being this wound up the entire time, because you knew you’d be kicking yourself for not taking Matt up on his offer. 
Resigning yourself to the only outcome that you knew was going to come of this, you sighed and released your hold on Matt, unbuttoning your blouse as Matt flashed a triumphant smile back at you. His own hands were quick to undo the few buttons he had managed to button on his shirt.
“Just don’t make me so late that the robbery story won’t be believable, Matty,” you told him. “I don’t need your dick getting me fired.”
He laughed, pulling his dress shirt off and tossing it somewhere behind himself near the bed. “Noted, sweetheart,” he replied, sliding his boxers down his thighs.
You’d barely removed your own underwear, not even having a chance to undo your bra, before Matt had scooped you up in his arms and shoved you back into the wall. There was a devilish smile on his lips and a dark gleam in his eyes as he maneuvered you in his arms, freeing a hand to line his cock up with your cunt that admittedly had been soaked since you’d woken this morning. You moaned when the tip of him pushed into you, your arms wrapping around his neck. 
“That’s it,” Matt praised, gradually sinking you down onto his cock. “That’s my good, sweet girl. Let me make you feel good. You want that, don’t you?”
Your head rolled back against the wall, breath already coming in shallow. “Yes.” 
You felt the slow slide of his cock as he dragged himself almost entirely out of you, but then in one swift, powerful thrust, his hips snapped forward and his cock plunged all the way back into you. Your eyes clamped shut, a cry of pleasure tearing from you as he hit that spot deep inside, the delicious sting causing your walls to squeeze him. Matt groaned out, his hips slowly moving backwards before he roughly slammed into you again, your head lightly bumping back into the wall behind you.
“Want you to think about this later, sweetheart,” Matt told you. “When you’re stuck at work, frustrated over the story I know you’ve been stressed about.” 
He slammed himself back into you and you cried out again, goosebumps raising along your arms at the sound of his voice. Your hands slid up the back of Matt’s neck, making their way into his hair and gripping the strands roughly between your fingers.
“Just remember I’ll be here when you come home,” he grunted out, thrusting himself inside you again. “I’ll always be here.” 
“Fuck–Matty,” you whimpered out, back arching along the wall as his pace increased. “I love you.”
His eyes closing tightly shut at your words, his hips stuttered momentarily before he readjusted his grip on you. Leaning forward, he pressed his forehead to yours again, grunting with each sharp snap of his hips as he continued to fuck you.
“I love you, too,” he breathed out, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I love you so fucking much.” His fingers dug into your hips and thighs as he fucked you harder into the wall. “I’m all yours, sweetheart. Always yours.”
Roughly you tugged his mouth down towards yours, kissing him hard as your fingers tightened around the fistfuls of his hair. Matt was kissing you back with a ferocious need, the kiss all tongue and teeth. Loud, throaty moans filled the bedroom, mingling with the sounds of skin on skin as Matt continued to mercilessly fuck you into the wall beside the closet. All thoughts of work and needing to keep your hands to yourselves were completely lost from either of your minds as you cried out his name through the bedroom.
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alpydk · 5 months ago
Note
You want angst? I’ll give you angst!
How do you think the companions would react to finding out Tav was divorced? That they were able to fall in love so deeply, only to have it ripped away. Perhaps the phrase “there’s nothing quite like handing someone the knife they use to carve out your heart.” is said.
Hello my dear anon, thank you for this prompt <3 This ended up largely as angst/comfort. I'm yet to write a real Gale proposal, so took this chance. It has a considerable amount of angst to begin with, though, so hopefully that satisfies your need.
Word Count - 3277 words - CW - Angst/Comfort (Happy ending!) - Divorce, Abusive relationship
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“Being tied down to someone? No, thank you.”
Pale fingers spun the wedding ring mindlessly on the wooden table of the tavern as the now owner of the band spoke. Tav suspected it had been stolen from the graveyard when they had all taken a moment with Karlach to hear of her upbringing, seeing as Astarion had grown quickly bored and had resorted to pulling the petals from lying flowers. He loves me; he loves me not was the mumble they’d heard as he had kicked the dirt up with little respect for the sleeper beneath.
“But you got to agree it’s romantic,” argued Karlach in response. “Waking up each day with the one you love, riding them until you’re both hungry.”
Astarion scoffed. “You don’t need to be married for that, darling, just… turned on enough.” His eyes glanced over at Tav, and a devilish smirk crept upon his cold lips.
She knew he wasn’t interested. She’d known since the first evening where he’d tried to lure her from the party with promises of a night to remember, one where she had turned down the idea of losing herself to him. But this was the game of cat and mouse the two of them liked to play, shameless flirting, the hint of jealousy that meant nothing. At least he says it’s nothing.
Sipping from a glass of Portal Sherry, Gale spoke with a hint of conviction in his voice. The night was still young and the alcohol flowing between the group was not yet enough to loosen his practiced tongue in full. “I’m of the opinion that if you love someone, then you should devote yourself to them in full. Marriage is an important part of that commitment.”
“Gods, you could ride them and not be married.”
“Yes, but that’s beside the point, Karlach. We were discussing the concept of til death do you part, which, as Astarion was keen to point out, did not apply to him.”
Tav watched the banter with enjoyment. It had started out as an innocent conversation, the grave of the two lovers they’d noticed giving details of a marriage lasting over eighty years. The consensus had been that marriage was a pointless endeavour, either ending when one partner died, or when the couple inevitably decided they were bored with the regular sexual escapades and decided to seek out fresh meat. None of the party, of course, had been married before and all but one would probably remain that way.
She watched the ring spin between Astarion’s fingertips, the solid gold band nothing remarkable in its shine, but clearly priceless to someone at some point. She thought about the future of the item. What would happen with it tomorrow as they took on their final battle with the Netherbrain? Would it be kept and eventually sold to fund their separate travels home, or would it lie upon one of their corpses, soon to be collected by another rogue with little patience for stories of trinkets once loved?
“Well, it does not apply to me, does it?” Astarion said, running a hand through his hair. His voice lilted with a hint of smugness at the fact he would outlive any romantic partner, but Tav could see the way he averted his gaze from them with the statement. He would outlive us, yes…all of us…
“But marriage, as a concept, is very archaic, isn’t it? The idea of two people being meant for one another. Surely, it’s there just to control people,” he continued.
She wanted to agree with him there. In a way, it was about control, or at least it used to be. Each would belong to one another, a possession, ownership and rules. If she looked at it cynically, all she saw was a socially acceptable form of slavery: people signing themselves over to others in the hope of serving them and receiving ‘love’ as payment. Tonight, though, she would not be cynical. Tav would be open to the arguments and see if her unspoken opinion could be swayed.
“I still think it’s romantic. Riding or not,” spoke up Karlach, a pint of ale being brought to her lips. “So, I’m with you, Gale.” The mug was placed on the table with a slight thud, spatters of foam hitting the wood and staining instantly. “We should do one of those agreements. If we’re not married by a set date, then we marry each other.”
Gale let out a chuckle. “That may prove a tad troublesome, my dear. Astarion, as we’ve heard, is not interested in the concept of marriage in the slightest, and me and Tav are already in a partnership of sorts.”
Of sorts… Of course, he’s said it like that. He loved her; she loved him, but with the end in sight, there was little point in calling it a relationship. Tomorrow, either of them could die, or he could be taken by the goddess. There was also the matter of the crown that they’d discussed at great length. He’d still not provided a proper answer about what he wanted to do once he had reforged it: hand it back as requested, or claim it for his own, ascending to godhood. Of sorts…Maybe he’s right.
“We still haven’t heard little miss fireball’s view on marriage. She might be like me and long for the life of freedom.”
Tav glared at Astarion as he dragged her into the conversation. He knew full well what her opinion was after one drunken night and an in-depth rambling about previous partners, of which he’d had too many to recount. Her list had been rather limited, one of which she had made the mistake of marrying, and he had greedily lapped up every little detail.
---
“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
It should have been the happiest day of her life; her friends, as limited as they were, his friends and family gathered around them to celebrate their love. The butterflies in her stomach felt as if they were great Gloomwing moths, batting their oversized wings, creating waves that would break out should she move too quickly, but she fought through them to stand upon the altar with him. Tav had been with the soldier Thomas for only a short while, but it had been a whirlwind of lust and romance which had swept her off her feet. Within six months she had left her hometown to live with him in Cormyr, leaving behind all she had known with nothing but the meagre belongings on her back. He promised her the world, to protect her and love her as she deserved, and she believed him. Yet as the cleric uttered those last words, and Thomas’ icy palm came to her face, pulling her into the firm embrace of his kiss, the doubts screamed within her mind that she was making a mistake.
She wasn’t sure when or how things changed between them, only noticing the creeping feeling of loneliness and isolation as she watched a couple from the bedroom window. They appeared to be so happy and in love. Her gaze moved to that of her husband, who slept naked beside her. The scent of Arkhen’s Hoard clung to his skin just like that of the pale bite marks on his shoulder. She knew full well they weren’t bruises, but questioning him always led to the same outcome, doubting herself, or if she wasn’t careful, feeling guilty for insinuating something he would never do…
Weeks passed, the icy hands closed around her throat, and still she blamed herself. Why had she accused him of sleeping with the barmaid? Why had she not backed down when he promised he was loyal to only her? Why had she been such a terrible wife to the man who loved her?
It was not until a friend of his appeared one day concerned for her safety. Over the months, he had observed the change in her, how she went from being someone filled with a zest for life to withdrawing into herself, reacting with a flinch whenever a hand was suddenly raised. He spoke of his worries, asked her of her relationship, and with each interaction she had said was normal, he’d been quick to tell her it was not. ‘He controls your money? You can’t see your friends without his permission? You deserve to be called that?’
The doubts of her wedding day reappeared with vengeance; the whisper turned to shout, reminding her she needed to get away before something terrible happened. But she loved him, didn’t she? Love meant sacrifices. He was protecting her, looking after her. It was them versus the world, Thomas has said.
20. Eleint, her eye blackened and swollen, Tav left their marital home with the same few belongings she had arrived with, now with the addition of her heart shadowed by abuse. What was marriage if not chains to bind? What was love if not a drug to manipulate with?
---
“...She might be like me and long for the life of freedom.”
Tav brought her glass of wine to her lips thinking over how to navigate the conversation without 1, giving too much away of what had occurred 2, drawing them into a discussion of her past and 3, not breaking Gale’s heart as he looked at her with the hopeful brown eyes she had fallen for. He’d been the complete opposite of Thomas. There was no ill intention in Gale’s words or touch, only the devotion he spoke of, as if she were a goddess and he a loyal follower. But to marry him? To wrap those cuffs around her wrists again and become his property? That would not happen. The same sacrifices would not be made again.
“I suppose that marriage is…” She let the words play on her tongue. “…a serious commitment and if two people are willing, then they should be able to do it.”
Astarion’s lips curled into a smirk. “A little ironic that you speak of commitment with no genuine commitment of your own to your answer.”
“Yeah, Soldier. Tomorrow, we save the day and you and Gale go off into the sunset. There’s going to be wedding invites, right?”
Tav felt as if the spotlight were the sun burning brightly down upon her, all eyes waiting for the answer she would give. She was standing upon the altar as they waited for the ‘I do’ that stuck in her throat, as if it knew what was to come. “Oh, well, I don’t know if things will come to that.” It had only been a few months between them all. She would not make the same mistake again.
“Okay, well say in a year.” Karlach was being persistent. It was understandable knowing her fate. Maybe this was a future she wanted to imagine she could see, a future she knew may never happen for her. Her father never walking her down an aisle.
Tav had already glimpsed the disappointment on Gale’s face, the hopeless romantic most likely already planning the proposal from the very first day they met. He spoke, his voice less certain than before, and she knew he would sacrifice marriage just so long as it meant being with her. “My love, would you possibly like to be wed one day, if the right person were to enter your life?”
“I don’t think so.”
An uncomfortable silence fell over the group, eyes falling onto drinks as if that answer had caused all humour to be drawn from the room. Karlach looked between Tav and Gale, waiting for one of them to speak, unsure if it would be safer to just retire to bed for the night.
Astarion eyed up Tav before he spoke, knowing the drama that was to come but savouring the entertainment for the night. “But you’ve done it once before. What’s the harm in going through it again?”
She scowled at him, angry at how he had shared this secret between them with little regard, at how he was drawing out her past so openly. Before she could react, Gale spoke, and she felt her heart sink, hearing the betrayal in his voice.
“Is it true? That you have been married before? Why didn’t you tell me?”
This was not a conversation she wanted in front of the others; one she was afraid would turn into an argument, an interrogation of who she was and all she had been through. “I wouldn’t call it a marriage, a more short-lived romance, maybe.” She tried to brush it all aside, hoping the answer would be satisfactory, but even with the drop in the conversation, she knew that would not be the last of the questions.
“There’s just nothing quite like handing someone the knife they used to carve out your heart.” She whispered, hoping the words would be forgotten.
---
“…become a member of…”
Freeing themselves of their tadpoles had meant a future none had really counted on. Astarion had retreated to the Underdark to raise seven thousand vampire spawn, Karlach had returned to Avernus with Wyll in a hope of finding a permanent solution to her own survival, and Gale and Tav had remained in Baldur’s Gate for a short time, recovering the crown, but more importantly, enjoying the hours of bodies entwined in unbound pleasure.
His proposal that morning had not gone as expected. She had declined marriage but agreed to continue to Waterdeep with him. Though he accepted this and would not pressure her further, he had felt rather disappointed at the outcome. There was no doubt in his mind that he would spend the rest of his life with her, so why not be married, too? She’d told him later of all that had happened in her previous marriage and rage had filled him with the idea someone would treat her that way, but this rage had also come with an idea. He would convince her he was better, that he would worship her and give her all, that marrying him would be a blessing, not a curse.
It started with a blue rose lying upon his pillowcase after he left for the academy, the petals delicate between her fingertips, the small piece of parchment with the words “Marry me” lying beneath it on the cotton. Again Tav had said no, the rose held loosely between her fingers as he had come home. He kissed her and simply replied, “As you wish.”
Each day lay a fresh rose upon his pillow, always in one of the various colours of the rainbow he had conjured over the docks for her to wake to. Each day a new note with the simple words “Marry me” and each day the reply of “As you wish.” But Gale did not give up, and Tav did not stop him from asking. Each rose was savoured until the petals fell, and each note kept hidden away in a glass jar, much like the words she held within her own heart.
One hundred days passed in the same manner, but on that day, she woke to a small garden of roses at the foot of the tower in Waterdeep. A spectrum of colour for all to see from the window, and upon the door, a single note with the all too familiar handwriting. “Marry me.” She spent the day in the comfort of the blooms, watching the bees flutter amongst the multicoloured petals, smelling the scent of the flowers as it drifted with the sea breeze, seeing as people passed by speaking of the romance in the air and wishing it was them to have met someone that loved them so. Thinking over her past, she remembered how marriage had almost destroyed her. She knew it would be different with Gale, but the fear still lay with her, a blackened thread binding her heart shut to the love he constantly showered her with.
Again another “As you wish.”
---
Rain poured outside the tower during the autumn evening, the two lovers lying together naked under a soft blanket in front of the fireplace. Roses of red, pink, and orange lay in a vase, the light bouncing off them, making them seem as if they were aflame themselves. Tav had still not answered this morning’s note, instead placing it within her pocket as a comfort as the day had gone on. 20. Eleint: the day of new beginnings.
“My love, should I stop asking?”
Gale’s voice was quiet, a resignation she had only heard once before when he was truly giving up. She felt her emotions stir, the disappointment in herself that she had made him feel this way. They’d discussed the proposals often as the days had passed, but to her it had become less about the commitment and more about the love between them. Each rose had been cherished; each note, the words she needed to know she was wanted and loved.
She sighed, not knowing how to answer. To say yes was to raise the question of their relationship in full, to say no would be open the discussion of marriage again. “I…don’t know.”
“Tav...” Gale gave a deep sigh. “Marriage to me is a union of the souls. Though some may say it as until death, I believe it goes further than that.” He stroked her hair gently, letting his fingers weave between the locks. “I think that when we eventually pass on, the vows spoken whisper to us and comfort our spirit as the light fades from our eyes. The rings exchanged help us find the one we have lost in the Fugue Plane. Marriage binds us, yes, but we are not prisoners to it.”
“You truly believe that?” she replied, her fingers tracing small circles into his chest.
“I do. I know the day you say yes may never come, but I hope at least that I can continue to ask you. That one day I might sway your heart in such a way.”
She considered his words, listening to the sound of his heart beating as her head rested upon his chest. “If I were to say yes one day, would you still give me roses?”
“I would give you everything you deserve and more, but especially roses.”
Tav turned over the thought, the memories of the last few months, of roses and parchment. The words trickled out quietly from her lips, almost merging with the rainfall outside. “Marry me.”
For a moment Gale was not sure if he had heard her correctly. Surely there must have been a part of the sentence gone amiss from him. Shifting himself, he lifted his shoulder from underneath her, positioning himself to look down at her. He saw himself reflected in her eyes, felt the way his hair swept down, hanging between them. His hand was brought to her cheek, brushing the skin lightly with his fingertips as if to make sure she was real beneath him. “Could you repeat that?” he spoke quietly so as not to break the spell.
She smiled up at him, a rebellious tear running from the corner of her eye, which he caught with the pad of his thumb. “Marry me, Gale.”
His lips caught hers in an intense show of his love for her, his body moving as if to hold her as close as was physically possible. He felt the way her soft palm moved behind his neck, how her tongue danced with his, and welcomed the embrace. Tentatively pulling his head back, he gazed down at her, love and devotion in his words as he spoke.
“As you wish.”
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