#have some pages from my little book of calm
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House Calls.
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Summary: Aaliyah has an elusive charm that can be alluring to some and frustrating to others. Professor Terry is compelled to have her. On one fateful evening at his college buddies bachelor party, he runs into Aaliyah. An interaction he hadn’t imagined would ever happen.
Warnings: SMUT, 18+ CONTENT, based off of Players Club, Nasty Talk, Professor!Student. ANGST.
Part three
1999:
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Walking into a hair salon was an interesting experience. Pulling into an overly stuffed parking lot in futile anticipation of being in and out “in a decent time.” opening the salon door and walking into a room overflowing with peering eyes full of a mixture of both curiosity and judgment that covers you from your head to the bottom of your favorite shoes. Slinking down into chairs that go from stuffed and comfortable to hard as steel while waiting for the appointment that was due more than an hour ago. Out bursts of group laughter, “girllll, no she didn’t!” and “say what now?!” coupled with the familiar smell of hair sheen spray and neutralizing shampoo that seeps through the fog of sporadic steam that fills the air from the super-wattage, neck-burning hair dyers, steamers and marcel ‘top of your ear frying’ irons, reminds you that this is going to be long day.
Aaliyah Noelle Davenport sat in an unoccupied salon chair within a popular salon in Baton Rouge called Gina’s. Gina’s had been around for over ten years. The pages of her coloring book she was currently scribbling in with old crayons kept her busy so she wouldn’t go snooping around like last time. She burned her fingers touching a curling iron heater.
“He’s back home…coming to pick Aaliyah up in a few…”
Aaliyah’s mother, Rochelle, was currently doing a roller set on a client. She worked the rollers around thick strands of hair with her long, curved, golden nails. Rochelle was a hard working woman. She did hair and worked night shifts at a local motel to pay the bills. Anything to make up for Aaliyah’s father being in prison for six years.
She was the epitome of 90s fine: Rochelle embodied a beauty that was both timeless and undefinable, leaving a permanent imprint on anyone that crossed her path. Her unique blend of elegance, confidence, and charisma inspired and resonated with Aaliyah. That kind of fine isn’t just about looks — it’s about attitude, style, and an effortless grace.
“Make the money, don’t let it make you. Money can't make you anything…only your actions can make you something. Money can buy you things that make life easier but one thing it can’t buy is happiness…”
“Girl, stop acting like you ain’t happy he back home...”
One of her mother’s friends and fellow stylist, Donna, was flipping through one of many hair catalogs the shop owned.
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“The less he know the better,” Rochelle added the final touches before she walked her client over to the hooded dryers, “It was one time, that’s it…”
“Rochelle, if you don’t calm your fucking nerves. He won’t ever find the fuck out if you don’t hush!”
“Okay, okay…shit–that’s him coming up right now. Aaliyah?”
“Mhm?” Aaliyah mumbled from her seat while coloring in a teddy bear.
“Your father is here…come on and get ya stuff. He’s gonna take you back to the house while I finish up. C’mon, little girl!”
Aaliyah frowned and pouted her lip while packing away her crayons and coloring book.
“Fix that face. You got homework to do…”
She climbed down from her seat and slipped her Barbie book bag over her shoulders. A candy painted Donk with shiny rims slowed to a stop outside of the salon and Aaliyah’s eyes lit up when she recognized her father’s low–cut ceasar with the deep waves. He shut his door and strolled over to the entrance of the salon with swagger.
Roland Davenport AKA Pressure. He was a smooth cat from Baton Rouge with a nefarious past and a deep love for his daughter. Aaliyah was his entire world.
“Is that my little girl! What’s up, Princess!”
He scooped up his six year old and spun her around. Aaliyah giggled joyfully while clinging onto her father’s crisp white tee. His skin was the deepest brown and blemish free. He flashed his pearly whites at her before giving her a kiss to the forehead. Roland put Aaliyah down and then he made his way over to Rochelle.
Aaliyah watched her parents hug each other affectionately. Their lips connected with a gluttonous passion. Roland’s hands roamed down to cuff Rochelle’s dump trunk and she squeezed his bulging biceps in return.
“Stop! Stop…I’m with a client…”
“How long ya gonna be, baby? I was thinking ‘bout taking my favorite girls out to eat.”
“Oh, yeah?” Rochelle grinned flirtatiously, “Where to?”
“It’s a surprise…”
Aaliyah’s parents talked for a few more minutes before her dad led her out of the salon hand in hand. She skipped along the way. Roland opened the back door and took her back pack so that she could buckle in.
“Daddy, I wanna sit up front.” Aaliyah protested with her sweet little voice, “Please?”
“Liyah. You can’t sit up here today. Maybe next time, okay?”
Aaliyah hung her head before fastening her seatbelt. Roland made his way to the drivers side and climbed in.
“How was school today?” Roland questioned, staring back at his daughter through the rear view mirror.
“Good.” Aaliyah flashed a grin with no two front teeth.
“That’s not what ya momma told me…”
Her smile disintegrated.
Aaliyah fiddled with her pleated, khaki uniform skirt. She avoided her father’s gaze, afraid he’d appear angry and she would be in big trouble.
“Look at me, Liyah…”
She did as she was told, staring up at her father.
“I’m not mad. You had every right to defend yourself. ‘Dem lil’ boys won’t mess with you again after what ya did…”
Aaliyah had been dealing with constant bullying from two little boys in her first grade class. They would pull her long plats, kick the back of her chair, call her names, and other cruel things that always resulted in her crying in the bathroom.
“Now if these lil’ niggas wanna have kids of their own someday, they better leave my daughter alone or I’m putting foot in ass…”
Roland made a silly face at Aaliyah and she couldn’t help but to smile and laugh.
“How ‘bout we make a pit stop to grab a snowball?”
“YAY!!!” Aaliyah cheered, her little arms up in the air like she’d just had a victory lap.
Roland cranked the radio, Sho Nuff by 8ball & MJG blasting through the speakers. Aaliyah could feel the seat beneath her vibrate. She watched her father rap the lyrics, a sudden gush of humid air flooding the car when he let the windows down. Roland extended his arm from the window to greet people he knew, the Chevrolet Impala Donk slow gliding through the hood.
They pulled up to a snowball stand that was situated next to a bowling alley and roller-skate rink. Rolland turned his music down before looking back at Aaliyah over the headrest of his seat.
“Which flavor?”
“Georgia Peach!”
“Aight, munchkin. I’ll be back…”
Roland climbed out of the car, shutting the door behind him. Aaliyah peered out of the open window, her eyes following her father’s retreating frame. What she hadn’t noticed, however, was the way an all black Escalade crept up, all four doors opening in unison.
Everything went in slow motion.
Repeated muzzle flashes sparked the air like it was the Fourth of July.
RAT–rat-rat-rat-rat!!!
Her scream pierced the air.
——
Those memories flooded Aaliyah’s mind that Wednesday morning. She’d woken up in good spirits, ready for her Ethics and Psychology class and a lunch date with a special someone. After showering, Aaliyah slipped on a pair of light grey leggings that molded into her hips, thighs, and booty. She paired it with a fitted, white T-shirt and low top Vans. Glasses on, messy hair pinned back with a claw clip, she threw on a denim jacket and collected her school bag near the front door.
Before she could even leave, a hard, booming knock on the storm door of her Shotgun House caused her forehead to wrinkle with surprise. She paused for a second before walking up to the door. Aaliyah brought one dark brown eye to the peephole.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Aaliyah flinched.
“Aaliyah! Open the door! I know you’re here!”
It was her junkie mother.
She didn’t look like herself.
Acne, dull skin, and self-inflicted wounds from picking at her face. Needle marks and collapsed veins from shooting up.
Rochelle was unrecognizable.
One look at her, and all the trauma from her youth flooded her mind. After her father was shot down, Rochelle went into a deep state of depression. She lost her job at the salon, and the pay checks from her motel job didn’t keep the bills paid. Rochelle had no choice but to seek help from a man. Any man that was willing. She sent Aaliyah away at the age of ten for a few years to live with her estranged grandmother, Ruby. Ruby was a strict, Christian woman with no tolerance for misbehavior or rebellion. She lived in a different Parrish in rural Louisiana, closer to Shelby Springs.
Aaliyah was made to do yard and farm work. She had Bible studies on weekends and couldn’t hang with many children because their parents weren’t ‘Godly Folk’. The only thing Aaliyah really enjoyed was horseback riding whenever her grandmother would visit a church friend. When Aaliyah was nearing fourteen, she started sneaking out to see an older boy. Word got around and Ruby lashed out on Aaliyah.
“I didn’t have sex with him! We were just kissing!”
Aaliyah wailed, hands raised to brace herself from her grandmother’s blows.
“You’re just like your mother! Can’t keep your legs closed! Don’t lie to me, Aaliyah! I know you slept with that boy!” Ruby shouted.
She couldn’t stay there any longer. Aaliyah called her mother that same night, begging her to come get her. Rochelle drove an hour out and when Ruby opened her door, Rochelle shoved past her mother.
“You put your hands on my child?! You evil bitch!”
Aaliyah watched from the top of the stairs with her packed bags. Rochelle and Ruby were in the middle of a screaming match.
“You asked for my help, remember?! She lives under my roof, she abides by my rules!” Ruby argued.
“But did I ask you to beat on my child?! Just the same ol’ shit with you! I can’t even rely on you to be there for my daughter—”
“OH! Now look who’s talking. You couldn’t even get your shit together after Roland died to be a mother. Which man is it now paying the bills, Rochelle?! Look at all this,” Ruby pointed to Rochelle’s jewelry and designer, “Don’t look like you struggling to me.”
Rochelle remained silent, scornful eyes glaring at Ruby.
“Aaliyah! Let’s go…”
She hadn’t seen her mother in almost four years. Rochelle looked…fancy.
“Sully is in the car…He drove me here…I missed you, Liyah…”
Ruby watched with folded arms. She locked eyes with Aaliyah, a look of guilt flashing across her face for just a second. They left without a backwards glance.
Aaliyah was very careful around Sully. He was a drug dealer, bringing home money and gifts to spoil Aaliyah. She became used to the revolving door of other criminals entering her home. She was just happy to with her mother again. Aaliyah focused on her studies and poured herself into cheerleading and hip hop majorette.
Eventually, things started to go downhill. Rochelle was introduced to harder drugs, Sully owed people money and he had gambling debts. Things in their home started to disappear, bills were piling up, and Sully turned violent. It took for Ruby and Aaliyah to fight back for Sully to finally leave. It opened the same wound of her father’s death, Rochelle unable to stay strong. Rochelle’s addiction became worse, so bad to the point that she would steal from her own daughter.
Aaliyah couldn’t handle it. As soon as she graduated high school, she got her own place and left her mother behind. It broke her heart, but in order for her to evolve, she needed to break free. Aaliyah hated working at Hooters, and when she turned twenty–six, she started stripping at Crazy Horse.
“Make the money, don’t let it make you…”
Aaliyah opened the front door, but the storm door remained locked. Aaliyah stared down at her mother. Rochelle looked desperate and more frail than the last time she showed up. She’d relapsed again.
“Hey, baby…”
Rochelle pressed her hands against the door.
“Can you help me? I need some cash—”
“I gave you five hundred dollars when I last saw you, momma. I see you back on that shit again…”
Rochelle hung her head in shame.
“I’m trying, Aaliyah. You don’t understand how hard it is.”
“You’ve tried for over twenty years now. I’m tired of helping you and all you do is use me. Weren’t you staying with Mama Ruby?”
She definitely wasn’t staying with Aaliyah.
“I can’t stay wit’ you?”
“Hell no.” Aaliyah quipped.
“I’m your fucking mother!”
“Did you forget what happened the last time you lived with me?! You stole shit from my house! I don’t trust you!”
Aaliyah didn’t need this. She had to go to school.
“Please…please, Li–Li. I’m hungry…I’m broke…pleaseeee…”
Aaliyah stared her mother down with a venomous glance. There will always be a soft spot for Rochelle, but the repeated hurt was exhausting. Seeing her mother like this broke her heart. She just couldn’t stop using.
“Okay…”
Aaliyah opened her storm door. Rochelle slipped inside quickly. Aaliyah kept a watchful eye on her mother while she admired Aaliyah’s cozy home.
“C’mon…”
They entered Aaliyah’s kitchen. Rochelle climbed onto a bar stool, peering around with a nervous look. Aaliyah opened her fridge, bringing out leftover catfish and grits she’d prepared last night for dinner.
“That piece right there…yeah…”
Aaliyah rolled her eyes.
She gave her mother the thickest piece of catfish and a good portion of cheesy grits. While the food heated, Aaliyah reclined her plush bottom against the counter. She stared her mother down, unable to shake the pain that fought to bubble to the surface.
“How’s school?” Rochelle questioned, unable to avoid picking at her skin.
Aaliyah tampered down her resentment and cleared her throat to speak.
“Good. I’ll be graduating in June.”
“That’s good, baby. Real good…June…How many tickets you gettin’?”
“Uhm,” Aaliyah checked on the catfish, “Not really sure yet.”
“Still dancing?”
Aaliyah rubbed her arms.
“No.”
The smell of the crispy fish wafted her mother’s nose. Aaliyah opened the oven to retrieve it. The grits on the stove top were nice and smooth now. After plating the food, Aaliyah wrapped it with aluminum foil and slid it across the kitchen island to her mother. She opened her pantry to grab a plastic fork and knife, securing it with some paper towels before holding it out towards her mother.
“I can’t sit here and eat?”
“You know you can’t…”
“Aaliyah—”
“Look, I have class. I’m gon’ miss it if you don’t take this shit and leave—”
“LOOK,” Rochelle stood, “I’m sorry you hate me so much. I’m sorry about all that shit, but I’m still your mother, Li–Li.”
“Oh? Last time I remember you being a mother was when I was six years old. Anything after that don’t count.” Aaliyah fired back.
Rochelle parted her cracked lips to speak, but her words stilled in her throat. Her tears flowed down her face and she wiped them away with the back of her dingy sleeve. Aaliyah stood before her with a rigid expression.
“Okay, I’ll leave…”
Rochelle grabbed her plate of food and Aaliyah stepped out of the way for her to walk in front of her. Tears prickled her eyes but she hastily pulled herself together. Aaliyah followed her mother towards the front door. She opened it, unable to reach her mother’s gaze.
“I love you, Li–Li…”
A solemn tear cascaded down Aaliyah’s face.
“…think you could look out for me?”
Aaliyah released a sigh before reaching into her bag. She plucked out whatever cash she had– one hundred and fifty dollars– handing it over to her mother.
Rochelle accepted it shamefully.
“Thank you, Li–Li. Take care of yourself…”
——
Professor Richmond carried his brown leather briefcase with him into the lecture hall. There were already students present the more he approached his desk in his brown dress shoes. His oceanic eyes swept the rows of students, his gaze zeroed into a vacant desk. Bringing his Apple Watch up, he was right on schedule. She would be arriving late today it seems.
Terry couldn’t go the remainder of his weekend into the early weekday without Aaliyah crossing his mind. She invaded and consumed him without her physical presence. He was two grand broker and overjoyed. He’d spend more on her in a millisecond. That shapely body is a walking sin. He found himself daydreaming of how it would feel to press his muscles into the softness of her curves. How would the curl of his biceps feel around her thighs? The ridges of his abdomen beneath her hands as she explored?
“I hope you all read up on Darwin and The Moral Sense. We’re jumping straight into discussion…”
Terry removed his navy blue suit jacket, then he rolled up the sleeves to his white, button down shirt that he wore tucked into matching navy blue slacks. He used a red Expo marker to write: Chapter Three of The Descent of Man. After capping the marker, he turned his attention to the class. With his pointer finger, he pushed his glasses back from the bridge of his nose.
“The keystone significance of morality in human distinctness is clearly asserted by Darwin in the first sentence…and the quote says….”
Terry snapped his fingers before pointing at a student within the second row with their hand raised. A white male with wooly, dark brown hair and a hooked nose.
“I fully subscribe to the judgment of those writers who maintain that of all the differences between man and the lower animals—”
“The moral sense of conscience is by far the most important, correct, James. But why is that?”
He cast his penetrating eyes across his students before flicking his gaze at the door. Another student bravely raised their hand and Terry motioned for them to speak. He continued to lecture shortly after that.
“We know from his notebooks that Darwin was reading the contemporary philosophical literature about moral behavior in 1837…”
As he continued, pacing in front of his desk, hands in the pockets of his slacks, the absence of Aaliyah weighed heavy on him. Minutes ticked away and soon enough, class was dismissed. Terry spoke with a student after class about the grade he’d given them for the midterm paper before packing away his things and leaving.
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He made it back to his makeshift office space, shut the door and shuffled inside, careful not to knock his briefcase into stacks of decades old textbooks and files. With his thumb and pointer finger, he flicked on his table lamp, a yellow glow igniting the space. The swivel chair situated at his rectangular, wooden desk creaked slight as he settled down. Terry cracked his wrists, a habit of his when he felt too wound up.
iPhone in hand, he found Aaliyah’s contact.
“Here,” Terry handed Aaliyah his phone, “Put your number in.”
Aaliyah stared up at Terry through her curled lashes with a smile that enticed him into a further aroused state. She held out her small hand and made a come hither motion. Terry felt his phone slip from his fingertips and watched her with a sharp gaze and a slight smirk. She typed away, and he caught her eye before she saved it.
Terry texted her phone later that evening and Aaliyah replied with a kiss emoji.
Terry: Goodnight, Beautiful ❤️
Aaliyah: Nite Professor 😘
He texted her on Sunday, not saying much, just a simple greeting. He didn’t want to come off too strong, although he was fiendish for her attention.
Terry: Hi, Aaliyah. Hope you slept well ❤️ Any plans for today?
Aaliyah: Hi 😏 slept well thanks for asking. how was your sleep? & I’m currently out to brunch with friends.
Terry: You’re welcome. had a great rest. Brunch is fun. I’m sure you look great 😌
Aaliyah: I do 😉
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Terry: SO BEAUTIFUL 😍
Aaliyah: Thank you ❤️ can’t wait to see you on Wednesday.
Terry: I’m looking forward to it ❤️
Terry sent Aaliyah a new text.
Terry: Hey, is everything okay?
It wasn’t like her to miss class. Terry unfastened the first few buttons of his shirt. He stood to stretch his sore legs from his workout earlier, easing his way over to the only window in his office. Terry looked out the window. The sky was tar-black and the large clouds seemed as if they were moving towards him. He heard a tapping on the window and then it became a pitter-patter. People ran for cover outside and umbrellas were opened as the clouds spat out their beads of water. Puddles began plinking as the rainfall became heavier. The roofs of the cars danced with spray and he could hear the murmuring of the rain through the window. It sounded like the buzzing of angry bees.
Buzz Buzz
Terry back tracked to his desk, reaching over and grabbing his phone.
Aaliyah: I’m sorry I missed class, Terry. Everything isn’t okay actually. I wasn’t feeling it. Can I call you?
Terry: Yes
He answered immediately.
Terry took a seat, “Hello?”
“Hi…”
Her voice sent chills down his spine.
Terry sensed her sadness.
“Want to talk about it?”
“…Can we still meet for lunch?”
“We can. It’s raining pretty bad out. Sure you’ll be okay driving?”
“I’ll be fine, I’m standing on my back porch right now…looks like it’s slowing down.”
“Okay. Uh…I was thinking Noir. It’s a nice jazz inspired restaurant and it’s a great vibe for cozy and intimate dining. Do you need me to pick you up?”
“No, that’s okay. I can meet you there. I know Noir.”
“Okay, drive safely, love.” Terry said.
“I will, you too. See you there.”
——
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Noir didn’t have many patrons that afternoon, and Terry wasn’t complaining. He scooted himself into a booth, the dim light hanging above him so dull as if a shade had been cast upon it. His wet dress shoes squeaked slightly as he made himself comfortable. Terry ordered two filtered waters with lemon and hot water to soak the silverware. His legs swung back and forth beneath the booth table anxiously. Eyes that appeared turquoise glanced towards the entrance and he made out the silhouette of Aaliyah Davenport entering.
She must’ve gotten caught in the rain. She was dressed casually, a large Louis Vuitton tote bag over her right shoulder and a denim jacket flung over her left arm. She paused, eyes searching for Terry. He leaned further out of the booth and waved her down. Aaliyah fixed her gaze on him and a small smile graced her beautiful lips. Terry watched her saunter over, and the further she approached, the more her smile brightened.
Terry stood, fixing his pants since they had ridden up on his thighs and bulged around his crotch. Aaliyah slowed down to a stop before him, an awkward pause with nervous glances between them. Ultimately, Terry opened his arms and Aaliyah giggled before wrapping her arms around him. Terry caught a whiff of her hair; coconut and hibiscus. Mmm…he could feel the slight dampness of her curls through his dress shirt.
Her T-shirt beneath his fingertips was slightly wet from the rain droplets. Aaliyah broke away from him and gave him one last look before settling into the booth. Terry followed, situated across from her. He loved how natural and beautiful she looked. Her curls were slightly heat damaged at the ends, giving it personality. She wasn’t wearing her glasses today, Terry able to enjoy those pretty brown eyes again. Her hoop earrings swung as she swept hair from her eyes.
“I ordered us some water for now if that’s okay.” Terry mentioned.
“That’s ‘awrite with me, Professor.”
She has such a cute voice. Honeyed.
“I hope I didn’t miss anything crucial. I’m sorry.” Aaliyah apologized.
“Don’t be. We discussed chapter three…have you read it?”
“I have. No assignments?” Aaliyah replied.
“No—Aaliyah, what’s wrong?”
He didn’t care to talk about class. He wanted to know what was bothering her. She looked so saddened. It didn’t sit right with him.
“Uh…it’s a lot. I don’t wanna pour my shit out on you.”
“I’m willing to listen, if you’ll let me. No pressure…”
Aaliyah tilted her head and considered his words. Their water arrived and the waiter was ready to take their orders. Aaliyah hadn’t even looked over the menu.
“Give us another minute, please? Thanks…”
Aaliyah started flipping through the menu. The conical body of the saxophone in the background soothing.
Terry decided to order them an appetizer. Mini crab bites. He wasn’t too sure what to order for lunch.
“Do you like crab bites?” Terry asked.
“I do. That sounds good,” Aaliyah peered up at him with a timid smile, “I was thinking of getting a salmon ceasar salad.”
“Tasty,” Terry stroked his goatee, “I’ll probably do a shrimp Po’Boy.”
Their waiter circled back and Terry ordered everything. Alone again, they sipped their water and caught each other’s eye. Aaliyah pushed the wedge of lemon in her glass down further with her straw. She released a sigh before leaning against the table.
“My momma showed up today. Right when I was leaving for school.”
“Ya’ momma? I take it you’re not happy about that…”
Aaliyah’s eyes glistened. Terry wanted to reach out and stroke her soft cheek.
“My mom is a drug addict. Been an addict since I was sixteen.”
Terry allowed what she revealed to him to settle into his mind. He gave her a slow nod, and his eyes fixated on her deeper.
Aaliyah continued with a shaky voice, “After my father was killed, she became depressed and she blamed herself for the longest time. I was there when it happened…saw the whole thing,” Aaliyah rubbed her arms, “He hadn’t even been out of prison for a year and he was shot…”
Terry watched her straighten her back and sniffle, trying her best to calm herself down.
“My momma’s been in and out of rehab. I’ve help her, my grandmomma helped her…she stole from me, disappointed me every single time…” Aaliyah stared down at her hands, “And all she can think to do is show up on my doorstep with her hands out. That broke me.”
Terry twisted his full lips and his eyes fell to her hands. He watched the way her fingers fiddled. With an impulse so strong, he covered her hands with his much larger ones, stroking them with his thumbs. Aaliyah watched the way his hands worked to sooth her. Like he was massaging the stress out of her. Aaliyah exhaled, and then she locked eyes with Terry.
“I love her so much…”
“I know you do, I can see it…I can feel it.” Terry spoke softly.
He released her hands so she could thumb away a tear.
“I’m so sorry, Aaliyah. Sorry about your father. Sorry about your mom…”
“Thank you, Terry. I really appreciate it. I know this is supposed to be a nice lunch. I feel like I’m ruining it with my fuckin’ bullshit.”
“There’s nothing ruined, love. I’m happy you felt comfortable enough to open up to me about it. I just don’t like seeing you like this…your mom isn’t willing to get help?”
“That’s the thing,” Aaliyah took a sip of her water to help get rid of the lump in her throat, “She’s been in and out of rehab plenty of times. It’s this guy she keeps running back to. I don’t really remember his name…all I know is that he’s a dealer. She’s always had a thing for criminals.”
“Your grandmother, what’s up with that?—am I asking too many questions?”
“No, no,” Aaliyah shook her head, “My grandma is…her and my mom have always had a strained relationship. She’s attempted to help, but it never works out. There’s a lot of unresolved issues and my mom just can’t stick around long enough to deal wit’ it, ya know?”
“I get it. What was your father like?”
Aliyah frowned slightly, “He was so funny. Had so much swagger to ‘em. Loved cars. He got himself mixed up in some shit. He was doing a favor for a friend that turned out to be a robbery and it landed him in prison.”
She had this faraway look in her eyes, as if she were recalling the nostalgic feeling of being with her dad.
“…I saw him…die…and…” Aaliyah exhaled, “Took me a while to shake it…”
“Damn,” Terry hung his head, “Aaliyah, that’s heavy…”
Terry squeezed her hands and sought out her gaze. Aaliyah looked across at him and a single tear cascaded down her cheek. Terry released her hand and lifted from his seat, scooting in next to her. He snatched up a few napkins and dabbed her face gently.
“It’s okay…it’s okay, Aaliyah…so sorry…”
One hand rubbed her shoulder while she bawled up the used napkin in her hand. With one last sniffle, Aaliyah turned her brown eyes that reminded him of cognac through a glass and just then, she leaned in and those lips he’d desired to feel grazed his cheek with a feather–like touch before molding into his skin with a pressure so soothing his eyelash’s fluttered in satisfaction.
“Thanks for listening,” Aaliyah whispered in his ear.
Terry turned his head at an angle towards her. He gave her a searing, sideways glance.
“You’re welcome. Anytime…”
“Crab bites…”
Startled, Terry leaped up from his seat and returned to his side of the booth. Aaliyah thanked the waiter and they put in their orders. Terry and Aaliyah shared the appetizer. After chewing, Aaliyah licked her lips before speaking.
“Tell me a little more about Terry Richmond.”
Terry gave Aaliyah an attractive half–smirk. 
“Ask me and you shall receive.”
“Why teaching? Is that something you’ve always had a passion for?”
“That’s a really good question. Uh…yes. I was an instructor when I spent time in the Marines. I trained Marines for combat and firearms. Each day was new and exciting. I’ve always had this…desire to share knowledge, inspire others, and make a positive impact. Although my pops wanted me to continue into the Marines, I fell in love with Psychology. So…I got my PhD a year ago, and here I am.”
Aaliyah sat her face into her hands with her elbows propped up on the table, listening to him like he was retelling a fairytale story. Her eyes sparkled with joy at listening to him drone on about moving to North Carolina with his parents after Katrina, enlisted into the Marines, finished his undergrad, living there up until the age of twenty–seven before he moved back to Louisiana to attend LSU. Both of his parents are still together and living in North Carolina. Their food arrived and they tucked in, talking in between bites.
Terry was happy that Aaliyah is in better spirits. She smiled and giggled and it warmed his heart. She thanked him for cheering her up. Terry was honored. The topic veered to hobbies and interests. Aaliyah shared that she used to be a majorette dancer.
“Fishing? Living outdoors? Wow. I grew up doing farm work and riding horses but nothing that deep,” Aaliyah responded with a giggle.
“I can take you sometime…show you what it’s like.”
Terry cocked his head to the side and stared at Aaliyah. She held onto his gaze, the tip of her tongue peeking through her teeth. Terry wanted to wrap his full lips around her tongue and suck on it.
“So…is it a date then? Taking me fishing and camping, Professor?” Aaliyah teased.
“I’ll take you anywhere,” Terry slurped down some water.
“Anywhere?” Aaliyah dragged out with her cutesy voice and lips twinged with a sultry smile.
“Anywhere…anything for you.”
“I like the sound of that,” Aaliyah smiled, “You’ve earned the privilege to spoil me.”
They laughed in unison.
“How did I earn it, exactly?” Terry quirked a brow up and narrowed his eyes playfully.
“Giving me two thousand dollars cash was enough to let me know,” Aaliyah replied bluntly.
Terry chucked. He licked his lips, eyes scanning the space before he lowered his voice an octave, “You liked that, huh?”
“More than you’ll ever know…”
“Let me know, girl…”
Aaliyah tucked her chin and giggled.
“Let me know…” Terry persisted.
“I didn’t like it I love it. I’m a princess and I should be treated accordingly.”
Terry’s eyelids lowered slightly. He leaned in on his arms, eyes roaming her body before staring into her eyes again. He felt a sensation so deep within his ripped core. Something akin to butterflies. Aaliyah excited him. That mouth on her…he loved it.
“The minute I laid my eyes on you at that bachelor party…you were gettin’ all my money…”
“Good, that’s what I wanted,” Aaliyah nibbled on her straw with a teasing smile.
Terry licked his lips. He stared at her through his spectacles while his fingers drummed against the table slowly. Aaliyah sat her glass down and leaned back against the booth.
Staring.
They were practically eye–fucking each other.
Beneath that table, Aaliyah took it upon herself to run her pointed, left foot up Terry’s right leg. She did it achingly slow. It traveled up and up until she stopped with her foot propped up against his seat between his legs. Terry did one lazy sweep of his eyes over her foot and his teeth latched onto his bottom lip.
”Aaliyah…”
“Huh?”
Terry was going to lose it. Lose all his control. He was itching to walk her to the back of the restaurant, push her into a bathroom stall, and beat that fat pussy up with her chest against the door and his large hands keeping her pinned in place and stable on that dick.
“If I could tell you how beautiful you are…how gorgeous you are a million times I would. The moment I laid eyes on you at the beginning of the semester…I couldn’t ignore it. The feeling. I just knew that I had to have you…”
Aaliyah sat transfixed by his words. Lips slightly parted, eyes misty. He loved that look on her face. He wanted her to look at him like that in a kneeled position with his dick hanging in her face waiting to be tended to.
The thoughts in his mind…
“Wow,” Aaliyah chuckled breathlessly, “You want me that bad, huh? Wow…”
She acted as if a man never pined for her so deep like Terry. His unspoken energy even spoke volumes.
He. Needed. Aaliyah.
Professor or not.
“You don’t even know…”
“Mm,” Aaliyah shut her eyes and nibbled on her bottom lip. Her eyes opened slowly, “Terry…you gotta stop.”
They chuckled, Aaliyah’s thighs clenching beneath the table and Terry’s thighs swinging back and forth.
“Why stop?” Terry whispered.
Aaliyah kisses her teeth, “‘Cause…”
Her cute voice was enough to make the tip of his dick respond. He could feel himself leaking.
Thank God the waiter returned with the check. Terry paid the tab, and Aaliyah looked at him, not quite ready to go. Terry didn’t want to, but he had an evening course starting within the next hour or so and he needed to head back to campus.
Fuck that class. Look what’s in front of of you, nigga…
“You ready?” Terry questioned reluctantly.
——
They hadn’t even made it out of Noir for two seconds before it started again. They quickened their pace as the clouds began to gather in the sky. Up to now, the sky had been postcard-perfect, but it was changing. The beautiful cocktail-blue shade was beginning to darken into gravel-grey. Large pillows of clouds were forming, blotting out the old-gold colour of the sun.
Aaliyah got the first splatter of rain when she was halfway across the parking lot. She took shelter under her Jean jacket, hoping that she could see out past the shower. Terry’s brawny bicep pulled her closer while he covered himself with his own jacket. Droplets of moisture began to drip from the leaves. They were sprinkling onto the concrete like a gardener’s hose. Then the rainfall became more intense. A wall of rain moved over the oak trees and the drops were drumming against the tops of cars. So much rain was falling that the sound blurred into one long, whirring noise. It reminded her of the rotor blades on a helicopter.
Terry’s truck was closer. He rushed to fling the door opened, helping Aaliyah inside before sprinting to his side and climbing in. He slammed the door shut before tossing his drenched suit jacket onto the back seat. The humidity caused the car windows to fog as it poured. Eventually, the noise lessened and the drops faded into a musical chime. They sought out each other’s gaze and laughed.
Aaliyah threw her head back and sighed with contempt. This was a great lunch date. She was so happy she came. After bawling her eyes out about her mother, she needed some fun. Terry was more than just his looks. He was so refreshing. Such a gentleman. Hard working. So deeply fascinated with her. And it was more than just a lustful gaze. A gaze Aaliyah was more than used to. No. This man wanted her.
Aaliyah turned her cheek against the headrest to watch him. Terry felt her eyes and he gave her his undivided attention.
“I want to see you again, as soon as possible, Aaliyah.”
The urgency in his voice let her know he was a man about action.
“I’ll let you know what my days are looking like…okay?”
Terry hummed. The sound vibrated her core. He was impatient.
“Why not check on that now? Friday for an hour and thirty minute class ain’t enough.”
The bite in his voice sounded so much different from his professional tone. Aaliyah was stunned.
“Okay,” She pulled out her phone from her bag, “I have plans Saturday with friends…”
“Friday night?”
“Nothing.” Aaliyah replied.
“Then how about Friday? I’ll take you to dinner.”
“I have to study, Terry.” Aaliyah said, a playful glint in her eyes.
Aaliyah clocked the way Terry’s chest rose and fell with each deep breath. She imagined what he looked like beneath his business attire. Her imagining could only conjure up enough for her to fantasize about. She needed to see the real thing. Up close. Touch on him and memorize the planes and valleys of muscle threatening to bring the freak out of her. He looked like he could bench press and squat three times her size and Aaliyah wanted to test that theory. In many positions.
“I’ll help you study.”
“Isn’t that cheating?!” Aaliyah replied.
“It’s called tutoring, baby girl.”
Baby girl? Oh fucking hell…
Aaliyah became acutely aware of her nipples hardening. So did Terry. His eyes were glued to her breasts sitting up and jutted out.
Terry reached down beside him and his seat reclined back. Aaliyah’s heart skipped a beat. He gave her a pointed look. Aliyah’s eyes fell to his inviting lap…and a rather mountainous bulge…
It was as if the blood coursing through his body carried downward and pooled into his…
The veins in his arms…she could see them clearer now. His large hands resting against his thighs…that man spread…she felt a buzzing in her ears. The silent dominance in his posture…
Aaliyah lifted from her seat in a frenzy, Terry scooped her up with one powerful arm around her waistline and Aaliyah climbed over his lap. She sat herself snugly over his thick bulge that protruded from the crotch of his navy blue slacks like an eruption was waiting to happen. Her fat pussy sat on that protrusion and her breath hitched.
“Professor…”
Terry’s large hands double–cuffed her thick ass and he forced his grip upward, arching her back. Those thick, long fingers sank into the plump flesh as he groped her. One hand above her, pressed against the roof of the car, Aaliyah allowed the feeling of him squeezing and jiggling her cakes to consume her.
His glasses had fogged up. Their mingled, uneven breaths along with the sound of the leather seats filled the space between them. Aaliyah felt his hands smooth around to the junction between her thighs and booty and he applied force, making her ass move on its own—left cheek, right cheek— peering down over her shoulder while she was pressed against him. Aaliyah had her feet folded over his knees.
“Ughhh….”
A deep grunt followed by his arms wrapping around her waist tight. Biceps cutting into her back. The new position had Aaliyah sitting over his print harder. They sat like that for a few minutes, Terry’s nose was pressed against her neck, inhaling cool air and exhaling heated air that caused goosebumps to spread.
His arms loosened and Aaliyah tilted her head down to meet his eyes. She removed Terry’s glasses, resting them inside of his cup holder. The interior of his car smelled like blackberry clove and leather. He smelled like sandalwood. Those eyes. She got lost in them before tearing her gaze away to stare at his lips.
“Can I kiss you?” Terry asked softly.
Aaliyah closed the space between them and one of Terry’s hands tangled into her wet coils while his other hand sat above her ass. They gave each other an open–mouthed kiss filled with a feverish need for each other. Wet smacking noises sent signals of arousal. Eyes closed, heads swiveling, equally tasty and soft lips molding into each other’s. Aaliyah allowed her hands to run beneath his dress shirt and white better, coming into contact with warm skin stretched over an impressive physique.
“Unh…”
She found herself moaning.
A single finger of Terry’s traced the waistline of her leggings. The sensation caused her body to shiver. Aaliyah sat up, leaning back against his steering wheel. Terry locked eyes with her while his fingers brushed from her waist down to her pussy. The heat radiating from there could have added to the fog on the windows .
“You deserve so much…you’re so fuckin’ sexy…”
Aaliyah adjusted herself to tilt her body against his so that Terry could put his hand down her leggings.
“Damn…it’s like that, baby?”
“Uh-huh…”
Terry’s hand cupped her fat pussy through her thong. Aaliyah clung to his shoulders while holding his gaze. Terry’s tongue—thick and pink—poked out and Aaliyah accepted the invitation of touching tongues with him. His fingers moved her panties to the side. He grunted into Aaliyah’s mouth.
“Damn…damn…”
His fingers rubbed up and down. Aaliyah spread her thighs further.
“There you go…nasty girl… spreading your legs like that…want me to touch all over this pussy…I like that…”
His words. She whimpered when his fingers started doing that up and down motion between her swollen labia and over her stiff clit. Aaliyah couldn’t believe how wet her pussy is. Creamy viscous spread all over her.
“Unh…Terry…”
“This what you think about? You think about me expressing how much I want you with my fingers in your pussy?…”
Two fingers sank deep. Aaliyah’s mouth dropped open. Terry’s brows furrowed and his eyes would flicker from her face to his hand moving up and down in her leggings.
“Aaliyah…this lil’ pussy tight, girl…I can’t believe I’m fingering you right now…”
He looked like he couldn’t believe it. Jade eyes intense.
“It’s s–s–so, wet…”
His words stuttered out in disbelief.
“My pussy like you just as much as I do, Professor…”
Aaliyah chewed on her bottom lip and her head lulled back. She started bouncing on his fingers. Damn, she missed this. She missed being fingered the proper way. She ain’t have dick in almost a year. The last man to have her was a mistake and not even worth mentioning. All she could focus on was keeping her legs spread and that pussy open.
“Good girl…you follow directions well…I like that,” Terry dragged his teeth along his bottom lip, “Look at me, Aaliyah…”
She did as she was told.
“I played your little game. Now what?”
He was toying with her.
This man…this was another side to him she was more than excited to see.
“Now you make me cum…make me cum, Professor.”
Terry chuckled, “Make this pussy cum?”
His fingers were knuckle deep.
“Send me home in a puddle, Terry…”
“Mmm…that sweet, little voice gon’ get you in trouble…keep moaning…uh-huh…mhmmmm…”
Aaliyah clamped down on his fingers. She lowered her head over his headrest and rode out her orgasm. So intense. It hit her like a freight train. Terry pressed deeper, stroking a spot that had Aaliyah crying. Terry gently withdrew his fingers. Aaliyah’s breaths slowed down, but her body was still recovering from the after shocks.
His hand resurfaced just as the sun peered over the storm clouds. The aroma of her pussy and the cum clinging to his fingers flooded her nose in the best way. Terry held his manicured fingers up. Aaliyah locked her gaze on creamy–white goodness all over his fingers and dripping down to his wrist.
Terry played with it. Rubbing his fingertips together. Spreading his fingers to see how slimy it looked. Aaliyah watched him suck each finger while his eyes never left her face.
“I taste good?” Aaliyah asked with a smile.
“Fuckin’ amazing, baby…”
Terry licked his lips and Aaliyah leaned in to steal a kiss. They kissed for some time before Terry broke away. He released a growl of frustration.
“I gotta head back to campus…I have an exam for my next class…”
Aaliyah pecked his lips before climbing off his lap and into her seat. Terry had his lip pouted while fixing himself. Aaliyah giggled, her eyes dropping down to his neglected erection. He caught her watching, grabbing her wrist and sitting her hand over his bulge.
It…was…thick…
“It’s so big…”
Aaliyah explored, squeezing and stroking…Terry swiped his bottom lip with his tongue and closed his eyes for a second to gather himself. Aaliyah removed her hand and Terry looked over at her like he didn’t want her to stop. Ever. She didn’t want to go, but Terry needed to get back to Campus. The last thing she’d ever want to do is sabotage his career.
“I don’t want to leave, but it’s okay…I’ll see you Friday, right?” Terry questioned, grabbing Aaliyah’s hand and kissing the back of it over and over.
“Yes. I’ll be there…”
Terry made a come hither motion and Aaliyah obeyed, slipping him some final tongue before they parted ways. Terry put his glasses back on, giving Aaliyah one final look of longing. She knew she had to be the one to leave him behind because if she didn’t, he would have skipped the class and spent the rest of the day proving to her just how much he needed her.
“Bye, Professor.”
Aaliyah opened the car door. She hopped down from his truck, grabbing her jean jacket. She blew Terry a kiss before shutting his door and heading towards her Jeep.
She couldn’t stop thinking about the taste of her pussy on his tongue and her scent on his fingers while he lectured.
——
Aaliyah 🌹: Studying for an exam tomorrow. I’ll talk to you later, okay? I had a really great time today 😏 just might touch myself thinking about it. Sweet Dreams, Professor. Xoxoxo 👄
Terry moved towards his living room, an NBA game on in the background. He was shirtless with black joggers on and a durag over his short curls. A single gold cross chain sat in the middle of his pecs. The heels of his socked feet sat into the throw rug beneath him. He had grilled salmon, broccoli, and dirty rice for dinner.
Aaliyah.
That woman awakened something primal in him. Although his eyes bounced back and forth across the screen, his mind wandered to the way his taste buds craved more pussy. He had such a good time getting to know her. The way her lips felt like the softest cushion against his lips. The soft, little whimpers she made drove him crazy. He dragged a hand down his face.
He studiously ignored the monster in his joggers.
Could’ve been full of something else if you had just taken what was in front of you.
The game did nothing to calm down his body. He flipped through the channels looking for something, anything to distract himself from the length of his dick pulsing against his thigh. Terry shifted his hips on the couch, the fight to ignore it impossible.
“Send me home in a puddle, Terry.”
Terry could still hardly believe that he had Aaliyah in his lap, lips against hers, fingers deep in her pussy, and in public. The morbid excitement from earlier returned to him in tenfold, echoing in the throb of his manhood. He stared forward at the movements on his television unseeingly, fighting his mind as it tried to conjure up an image of himself between Aaliyah’s legs. Her pretty pussy gleaming at him naughtily making his mouth water. He wanted to be the only one to taste her for as long as he lived. To bury his face in between her buttery–smooth thighs to kiss, lick and tongue fuck her until she was a whimpering, quivering mess. His name a constant chant on her lips as she feebly tried to push him away after her orgasm. He wouldn’t stop. Not until all she wanted was him.
“Terry…Terry…right there, Terry…”
“Shit,” he grunted as he lifted his hips off the couch slightly, pulling his joggers down to his thighs, his engorged dick springing free, curving up to look at him. The purpling head waved in the air at him in greeting and invitation. Terry scrubbed a hand over his face at the sight, exasperated at his excitement for a girl he’d never seen naked and his inability to turn this shit off. Sleep wasn’t going to come easily to him if he didn’t take care of big boy first.
Terry’s eyes tracked a drop of precum as it dribbled over his head and down his pulsating shaft, collecting at his heavy balls. His dick was quite literally demanding attention, the veins overly pronoucned along the sides beating in time with his heart, and he was hard pressed not to give in. He hadn’t touched himself in a few days, work had kept him busy and the thoughts of Aaliyah after the bachelor party had given him a reason to. He quickly contemplated walking back to his room and using his fleshlight to get the job done before he decided against it. He was too needy to move now.
Tentative fingers ran over the velvety tip, collecting the beads of moisture there and spreading them around slowly. He closed his blue–gray eyes and pushed his head back into the sofa cushion with a flex of his hips. A harsh ‘fuck’ escaped his clenched teeth at the sensitivity. This was going to be quick, rough and lacking any of the finesse he usually showcased in any moment of sexual gratification. Even if that moment was just with him.
Terry’s dominant hand wrapped lightly around himself, trying to mimic how his Aaliyah would touch him, his other dragging over his exposed abdomen. His hand pulled down roughly, electing a low groan from him, as a fantasy bloomed in his mind. He could see her behind his lids that had fallen closed. Kneeling in front of him, between his parted thighs, bright eyes glued to his expression as she bit her lip in concentration. Watching him with that sassy look she got any time she wanted things her way.
Terry spread his knees as far as his joggers would allow, his hand twisting and pulling himself, gaining momentum with every tight pass of the head. Thumb coming up to swiped over the moist slit. Half curses spewed out of him as his pace quickens, his free hand coming down to fondle his sack. Rolling it between his fingers. The sensation doing nothing to abate his impending release.
“Fuccccckkk…..” his voice hitched and raised, battling with the enthusiastic wet sounds of his hand pumping.
His fantasy girl looked between him and his twitching dick, her hand moving as fast as he was. She licked her parted lips and leaned towards his thick pipe. Her warm breath only heightened his pleasure as she whispered to him lowly.
“Cum for me, Professor…”
And he did just that. His heels dug into the plush rug beneath him, using it for leverage as he fucked up into his hand, the coil in his belly growing tighter until it snapped. A croak of Aaliyah’s name bouncing off his walls. Thick spurts of warm cum landing haphazardly across his upper body didn’t deter him as he continued to drag his fist over his oozing dick until the motion became too much for his overly sensitive body. Legs shuddering with each pass.
Terry let go with a deep sigh, taut body relaxing slowly until he was sitting naturally in his seat. Terry glanced down at the evidence of his ecstasy littered across his chest, stomach and hand.
He huffed an annoyed laugh at how quickly his orgasm had taken him. And how hard his dick still was as it bobbed in front of him, his stamina was working against him this time around. With a disbelieving shake of his head, he gripped the base, pulling his hand with a slow rotation of his wrist upwards. His release making the perfect slick for round two.
“F–fuuck, babyyy…” Terry hissed at the feeling. He let go, palming the head a few seconds to stave off the mounting pressure. He would not come that quickly again.
Terry took his time, languidly pulling at his dick, unrushed. Rubbing his free hand up and down his stomach, tweaking his nipple quickly before sliding back down. He repeated this process as his hand gradually picked up speed.
The short nails on Terry’s left hand bit deliciously into his skin as he raked them down his chest and stomach. The sharp pain was closely followed by a wave of hazy pleasure causing his hips to buck faster into his hand. He abandoned all notion of slow, the tightening in his balls and urge to reach completion pushing fast and hard to the forefront of his mind. The juxtaposition of two intense sensations never failed to throw him over the edge.
Terry threw his head back, neck straining as he clenched his jaw. A constant string of yes, fuck, yes screaming in his head as his abdominal muscles flexed and clenched. His hand is almost a blur with how quickly he’s moving.
Twist
Grip
Plunge
Slap
Squeeze
Fucking Aaliyah did this to him. Those eyes, that smile, her voice, that goddamn body…
Flashes of her twerking in a split, making that ass clap, looking back at it, licking her lips with that tongue ring, talking her shit, how sweet her pussy tasted, how snug her walls were around his fingers.
He wished it was her. Her delicate hand working him. Her brown eyes drooping with arousal. Her heavenly voice encouraging him to go ahead. Let go. He could almost smell her. Almost taste her.
Her pussy was so fucking sweet. He couldn’t wait to suck on her pussy. He wanted to bury his nose into it and draw in a deep breath that almost burned his lungs. He wanted to make her unravel beneath his tortuous tongue and lips. Over and over and over—
He erupted at the thought, breathing hard and keening through his messy release. The second nut even more than the first. Still, he continued to stroke, torturing himself, milking himself like he wanted her to.
Terry was out of breath by the end of it. Body spent and tingling.
So much for not cumming quickly.
He sat there for a long time, waiting for the hollow feeling to retreat from his bones, his cum cooling on his skin. He needed to take another shower.
But what he really needed was her.
Friday couldn’t come fast enough.
@theereina @bombshellbre95 @planetblaque @trippyscotch @megamindsecretlair @uzumaki-rebellion @thesweetestdrug @theblulife @hotgrlcece @blackerthings @deja-r @helloncrocs @hearteyes-for-killmonger @kaylabuggggg06 @skyesthebomb @blyffe @gwenda-fav @beenathembo @blackpinup22 @novaniskye @melaninhawtie @urfavblackbimbo @avoidthings @rose-bliss @xo-goldengirl @kinginwithbreezy-blog @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @sirenmouths @creartivefairy @soulfulbeauty19 @therealmrsrhodes @hrlzy @nayaesworld @gg-trini @brattyfics @flydotty @writingsbytee @shiania @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @madamzola @kismet83 @aristasworld @sl33p-deprived-princess @erynnnn @itssbrie @melaninangel @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @sweettea-and-honeybutter @dashhoney25
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hyperdramas · 1 day ago
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i wonder | lee seokmin
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pairing: lee seokmin x reader
warnings: non-idol au, fluff, baby fever, pet names (sweetheart), reader is implied to be female, lots of kissing, suggestive (??), reader straddles seokmin's lap (not nsfw), seokmin is more than happy to give you what you want, inspired by @oojiehae's last post because GOD was it scrumptious
now playing: i wonder, superliminal ost
Baby fever was hittting you like a train in this moment in time.
Seokmin was on the couch, reading a book as he sat with his legs spread open over the cushions of the couch. His dark brown eyes scanned the pages as his lips moved slightly, and his sharp nose was angled down, as he quite literally had his nose in a book.
Ever since you and your boyfriend had come back from your friend's house, baby fever was clouding your mind. She had let you see her newborn baby girl for the first time, and it drove you to madness, seeing how Seokmin's paternal instincts kicked in just like that.
He was quick to listen to the directions of your friend, and was so good at calming the baby and rocking her to sleep. His eyes seemed to sparkle as he looked down at her, and his soft voice as he talked to her made your insides melt.
You wanted a baby of your own, with Seokmin. You wanted to be able to care for it and watch Seokmin rock it to sleep during a late night, or cook dinner as he watched the child have fun on the little tumbling mat they'd get for the baby. You wanted to be with Seokmin's child, having Seokmin massage your back and kiss your tummy, whispering to the child that was soon to come.
"Hey, Seokmin? Can I talk to you?" You said, head lowered as you came from the kitchen. He looked up, saw your expression, and immediately closed his book, nodding as you slid onto his lap. Seokmin wasn't surprised by this, smiling as he pressed a kiss to your cheek when you sighed on top of him.
"Wasn't Molly's baby so adorable?" You asked, and Seokmin nodded, heart growing soft before your very eyes as his eyes started to sparkle.
"So adorable. Her little fingers were so adorable, and her eyes were so pretty—just like her mommy." Seokmin said, and you fell even harder for him when he described how cute the baby was. He described her with such passion and joy, but just made you want to have his baby, and have his baby now.
"Seokmin, I want one." You say, and Seokmin pauses, confused as he thinks for a second. The words are replaying in your mind, and you hope that Seokmin knows what you're implying.
"I want a baby, Seokmin. With you." You whisper, and Seokmin's eyes darken just slightly as he smiles at you. His eyes fall from your eyes to your lips to your exposed collarbone, and he leans in, warm breath tickling your neck as he presses a kiss to it. His grip is tight on both sides of your waist, and he stares up at you with love in his eyes as he smiles.
"You want a baby, sweetheart?" He repeats, and you nod, too distracted by Seokmin's soft kisses and the sentence you had just muttered out into the world for the first time.
I want a baby, Seokmin. With you.
"You want me to give you a baby?" Seokmin asks again; you know he heard you the first time, but it makes you feel a certain way as you nod. "Please." You beg, and blush at how desperate you actually sound.
"I'll give it to you baby, oh my god, I will. I'll treat you right and give you everything you want, okay? We're going to have our paradise, with you and me and our little mini-me, yeah?" Seokmin promises you, and your eyes fill up with tears (for some reason), smiling as Seokmin's lips fly to yours again.
Your arms slowly drape around Seokmin's neck as he presses his warm body into you, and the two of you tangle with each other. Seokmin's eyes are closed, and you're so close to him, you can feel the flickering of his eyelashes.
Seokmin's hand drops down to your lower back, turning circles on it as he continues to kiss you, lips red and wet from the kissing. He had maybe went overboard, you wouldn't lie, but it made you feel so loved, you didn't mind it.
Once the two of you pulled away, Seokmin grabbed your hands, bringing them to his chest as you came along with them. You landed just a few centimeters from his lips, trying not to look or remember the taste of them as he cupped your cheek.
"We're going to have our own family. I'm going to do it for you. For us." Seokmin's voice was a tender whisper, and he kissed your lips softly, barely brushing them as he kissed your fingertips.
"I promise, sweetheart." He said again, and you nodded, heart swelling with the idea of you, Seokmin, and one more.
feedback & reblogs are always appreciated! thank you for everything :>
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nabinabipumpum · 1 day ago
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𖦹 DON’T LEAVE ME, PLEASE ᴺⁱⁿᵍ ʸⁱᶻʰᵘᵒ ˣ ᶠ!ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ
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Pairing - Ning Yizhuo(NingNing) x f!reader
Genre - Fluff and angst
Warnings - fights, mentions of breaking up, slight swearing, breach of trust(?), second chance
Synopsis: After a stressful month, a week off with your girlfriend seems perfect, but all your expectations for the week fall when she just wants to hang out with her friends.
A/N: I did this sleepily, so sorry if it's not very good, plus I've never written angst before. Sorry for any writing errors, English is not my first language and I’m not fluent
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You sighed as you finally opened the door to your apartment, after a day of work, all you wanted was to finally get some well-deserved rest, good news was that you would have a week off, even better news was that Ning would be there too, no. It couldn't get any better than that, right?
You took off your shoes smiling, but he fell slightly after hearing more than one voice coming from the room, well, your girlfriend always brought her friends home after work, just to talk and eat something, it wasn't any different. You took slow steps into the living room as you looked at the four girls, your girlfriend was the first to notice you and smiled so wide, you felt all the stress leaving your body just by seeing her smiling.
"Dear!" She got up and ran to hug you.
“Hi angel.” you wrapped your arms around her as you inhaled her scent, it certainly hadn't been long since she got out of the shower as her hair was damp at the ends.
“Y/n! Good to see you.” Ning let go of you just enough to smile at her friend.
“It’s good to see you too.” you smiled, seeing Giselle smile back while Karina did the same, Winter had her mouth full of food.
“Your hair looks so beautiful.”
“Thank you Unnie.” you smiled and then turned to your girlfriend “Can we talk for a minute.”
"Of course! I will be back in a moment." she warns and drags you to the kitchen “Are you hungry?”
“No, I already ate.” she just nodded and waited for you to say “You didn’t tell me you were going to bring them here.” She let go of your hand.
“This again? They are my friends, sometimes I want to spend time with them.” She crossed her arms and you just sighed.
“That's not the problem, but I just wanted you to let me know, you know? It’s been a rough week, I thought we could just relax together today.” she looked down.
“Well, we can do that when they get out anyway.” you agreed.
“I’m going to take a shower.” you left the kitchen and on the way said goodnight to the three girls before heading down the hall and into your room.
You took a hot shower and changed into comfortable pajamas, finally crawling into bed with a new book.
You don't know exactly how long it was before NingNing entered the room, but you had read a lot of pages so you just assumed it was a long time. The girl lay down next to you and took out her cell phone, you told yourself to finish this chapter before talking to her, it's your law that you follow to the letter. As soon as you finished, you placed the book on the dresser and turned lightly to your girlfriend, who seemed too engrossed in social media.
“Hey,” you walked over and placed a light kiss on her cheeks, “you look beautiful.” She smiled lightly and looked at you.
“It took you a while to say that today, thank you.” she sealed her lips with yours and you smiled showing your teeth.
"Serious? I’ve already told you that five times today.” she laughed and hugged you “I miss you so much, baby.”
“Then let’s stay like this all night, you’re so comfortable.”
“I would never reject that.” She looked at you and brought your lips together again, in a calm and tender kiss, like she always did before going to sleep. One of your hands cupped her cheek, bringing her closer, as you enjoyed the moment you waited for so long and it felt a thousand times better than in your thoughts, the feeling of Ning's warmth on you gave you goosebumps as one of her hands stroked your back. You separated to breathe a little.
“God, I love you so much Y/n.” You smiled and caressed her cheek.
“I love you so much, Yizhuo.”
You slept happily, cuddled up with NingNing, all your problems were gone while you were in your girlfriend's arms. The constant work ended up not letting you have a long conversation or a affectionate and relaxing moment with each other, you certainly value the days off for finally being where you feel like you would always belong, next to Ning Yizhuo.
In the morning, you and your girlfriend cook together, laughing and sometimes kissing, you can't stay away from her for long.
In the afternoon, you were ready to order something for the two of you, until you entered the room and saw her finishing her makeup.
“Are you going out?” You asked, going to sit on the bed as you watched her.
“I’m going to a cafe with the girls.” you agreed as you lowered your head.
“What time will you be back?” she looked at you as you just played with your fingers.
“I won’t be long, maybe at five, I’ll let you know anything.” you agreed and looked at her, now she was getting up to get her bag and her keys.
“Okay, have fun.” you smiled and she walked up to you, her lips joining yours for a few seconds.
"I love you."
"I love you."
You weren't sad about it, surely the next day she would reward you like she always does, you were looking forward to it, so you tried as much as possible to make time pass quickly until Yizhuo came back and you could have one more moment with her.
It was after five o'clock and she still hadn't arrived or sent a message, you sent one to her but she didn't see it and that made you worried. You sent her about ten messages before calling and being answered by a voice that definitely wasn't your girlfriend's.
"Dear?" you mumbled when you were finally answered.
“Ah, sorry, it’s a friend of hers, she’s your girlfriend, right?” You felt your chest sink.
“Yes, where is she?” You tried to recognize the music in the background, did it lie to you?
“On the dance floor with Karina and Giselle.” you sighed and sat down on the couch “Are you there?”
“Yes…” a deafening silence remained on the line until you finally spoke “Let her know she shouldn’t be late, please.” you barely waited for confirmation before you hung up, your head throbbing.
You looked at the clock, 7PM, you sank into the couch as you heard your phone ring, but you knew who it was and you didn't want to answer it again, it wasn't the first time she had done this.
-
(You walked back and forth while looking at the clock from time to time, it was past midnight and NingNing hadn't arrived. The door was opened and you certainly never went to a place so quickly as this time.
“Yizhuo!” She looked at you and smiled.
"Dear!" She took off her shoes and you crossed your arms.
“Did you see what time it is? You didn’t tell me you were going to be late.”
“Oh, sorry, I guess I didn’t even remember to have my phone, I was having fun.”
“Having fun?” she agreed “Are you kidding me?” she furrowed her eyebrows.
“Sorry for taking so long, but I needed this, it’s been a stressful month.”
“I don’t mind you going to parties Ning, but can’t you just text me? I was worried about you, don't you think there's someone at home waiting for you? You’re not single Ning.” she sighed and crossed her arms, a position similar to yours.
“I know I'm not single, but I want to have fun with my friends too, I already apologized, what more do you want?”
“I want your fucking responsibility Ning Yizhuo, that’s what I want.” She was a little scared by your tone but you didn't change anything, you can't just give in to her anymore whenever you argue.
“It’s okay, I’m sorry honey, I won’t do that again.” you nodded “I’m so sorry…” she walked over to you and placed her hands on your shoulders “Are we going to forget this?” you felt soft lips against yours for a few seconds “Let me reward you, what do you think?” You held back a smile.
“Take a shower first.” she smiled and ran off to the bathroom and you cursed yourself again for falling so easily into your girlfriend's charms and eyes, well that was why you fell in love with her.)
-
She broke her promise, she swore she would never do that or anything like that again, that she would never make you worry like that again, she did it again and you felt terrible. Did she cheat on you? Or did she just forget? It doesn't matter, she lied and you hate lies even more from someone you should trust.
You felt the tears in your eyes and you couldn't hold it back any longer, all the frustration of the month came together with the situation and made you sob from crying so much, you cringed as you put your face in your hands to try to control yourself, an unbearable weight on your chest heart as you remembered all the times someone ended up lying to you, you thought you were pathetic.
It took a few minutes for you to finally compose yourself and wipe your face and before long the door was opened. You sat down again as you looked in the direction your girlfriend was supposed to appear.
“Baby?” you saw her, she looked tense “Hey…”
“You did it again.” She flinched at your tone, you looked at the floor, not knowing what to do.
“I wish…”
"No." you felt your chest hurt “Don’t say sorry again, you promised.” you heard the footsteps towards you and felt the space on your side, you flinched as you felt your eyes burn again “What the fuck Yizhuo.”
“Are you crying? That's why?" his head turned to her.
"That's why?"
“Yeah, I mean, it’s not a big deal Y/n.” You looked at her for a few seconds, you didn't want to cry anymore. Did she think it was no big deal?
“You promised.” you mumbled.
“I just couldn’t wait.”
“You said you were going to a cafe.”
“We changed plans.”
“This changes everything.” you sighed and placed your hands on your knees as you closed your legs tightly. “You broke a promise, you broke my trust.”
“Oh, God, you are so childish.” She stood up, you looked at her not believing the words you just heard.
“Do you think I’m childish?” she agreed “Really? I’m sorry for trusting something you said yourself, I’m sorry for wanting to spend time with my own girlfriend, I’m sorry for worrying about you.”
“I’m an adult, Y/n, we both are, be an adult.”
“Fuck you.” you stood up and walked past her heading to your room, her words felt like cuts to you, your chest pounded quickly as you opened the door forcefully and heard the footsteps behind you.
"What are you doing?" She held you, you can't see her due to the tears.
“Leaving, what does it look like I’m doing?” you released your arm from her grip “Maybe you deserve someone more mature than me, don’t you think?” you picked up any suitcase.
“That’s not what I meant, honey I don’t want someone else.” she tried to hold you, you stopped and sighed heavily and wiped your tears. “Y/n please, please.” She held your hands.
“You will do it again.”
“No I… I won’t, I didn’t want to invalidate your feelings I’m sorry, please, I beg you.” You watched her bend over a little.
“You’re not going to change that easily.”
“I will, I will change, please don’t leave me, I love you so much…” you saw tears fall into her eyes. You sighed and looked to the side.
“You hurt me with what you said, you really hurt me.”
“My love, forgive me, I never wanted to hurt you, that was without thinking, please forgive me.” You looked at her, she was crying a lot now.
“Why are you crying?”
“Because I don’t want to lose you.”
"Really?" she agreed. “It’s the last time Ning Yizhuo, I swear if this happens again nothing you say will change my mind.” She agreed and hugged you.
“It will never, never happen my love, I promise.” you smiled and hugged her “I can lose everything, but not you… Oh god, never, not you…”
she kissed your lips and you felt the slight salty taste if your tears “I love you so much, I’m so sorry, I love that you worry about me, thank you for being my girlfriend.” You looked at her, you could see the affection in her eyes “You’re not childish, okay? I will never say anything like that again, never, I swear on everything, just never let me lose you.”
“That’s not up to me.”
“I know, I will do everything I can to repay you for this.”
She kissed you again, her arms wrapped around you as she cupped your cheek, you just let yourself feel her, the taste of her lips, the way she sighed as she kissed you, the world seemed to spin with the feeling of comfort that the girl passed you and the affection she left implicit in the middle of the kiss, caressing your cheek, pressing your lips carefully. You separated and you looked at her.
“I love you, Y/n”
“I love you too, Yizhuo.”
She smiled, you felt safe, you decided to trust her and now, you can say it was one of the best decisions of your life.
Your girlfriend made sure to never make you apprehensive or worried again, she sat and listened to you whenever you were stressed and just needed her and words of comfort, you felt that her fear of losing you was true just by the way she now looked much more worried before going out alone. She made you feel safe again, just like you always did with her.
Now you were sure that you belonged in Ning Yizhuo's arms.
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hobgoblinbard · 1 year ago
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For the record: YES Arthur would love John as a worm
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nanamiscocksleeve · 2 months ago
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Prescription For Pleasure
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Warnings: MDNI, sex, masturbation, medical masturbation, use of vibrators, clit play, piv sex, use of latex gloves, oral (fem receiving), some praise, kinda slow burn A/n: I am not normal about this man in any way. Not really proofread. Please do not use my banners without permission.
You’re seated in Zayne’s office, trying not to squirm as he sets up your appointment. Although this was now the third time you were seeing him for this regular inspection, it didn’t alleviate your nerves the slightest. Each month, according to the Hunter’s Association regulations, every hunter needed to be seen by their primary care physician for 3 consecutive days for their health.
And although the association deemed it a necessity, it was an embarrassing requirement according to you. The Hunter’s Association had done a survey and discovered that many of their employees suffered from high levels of stress because they were isolated and lacked much-needed human contact. To combat this, they made it mandatory to get physical contact by a medical professional every month.
But when all the fancy jargon was pushed aside, all the hunters called it the same thing - medical masturbation. It had become wildly popular amongst both men and women hunters, eagerly marking the days on their calendar for when they could come in. When you heard about the rule, you wished the earth would open up and swallow you whole. You had tried talking to Jenna to insist that you were indeed taking care of yourself in that aspect, thanks to your trusted vibrator, but she had shaken her head no. 
“We need documentation. I’m subject to it, and so is everyone else in my order.”  Defeated, you’d walked out of Jenna’s office before remembering another mortifying fact with a jolt. Your primary care physician was Zayne. 
Your childhood friend, your trusted cardiologist, stoic and calm, who remained reserved during your general checkups, was going to be your medical masturbator. You had almost turned yourself into a ball on the floor, tweaked out at the insanity of it all. Although Zayne was your general physician, you had a separate gynecologist, and apart from asking if you’d had your annual PAP smear, Zayne had left that part of your anatomy unquestioned. It didn’t help that you were attracted to him, and sure, if he’d asked you out on a date, you would have been more than happy to let him inspect you all he wanted down there.
But this clinical setting, enforced by your organization was a little too much to bear. Wondering how to tackle this situation, you wander over to Tara who was humming as she made her medical bookings on her phone app. “Isn’t this exciting?” she squeals as she sees you. “God knows the dating pool is thin right now. This is just what I needed!”
Tara’s primary care physician was a woman, and you wondered if that was a pro or a con. On the one hand, dropping your panties for a woman doctor seemed less unnerving than for a man. But if you had a preference for men, would it work against your arousal? You shook your head at your ridiculous musings and focused on talking to Tara. “Are you really that excited about this?”
“You have no idea!” Tara taps her feet as she talks to you. 
“And you’re ok about having a woman stimulate you?” You probe, trying to gauge Tara’s reaction. Tara giggles and lightly pats your shoulder. 
“I don’t know but the idea is kind of hot. I mean, getting it on in a doctor’s office? Besides if I don’t like it, I can change the doctor the next time.”
Her words hit you like a ton of bricks. “You can change your doctor?”
“For this yes, the app gives you an option since it involves showing off a lot of intimate areas. You have to be able to trust your doctor right?”
You logged into the app, finding the little button to request a change in doctors, but for some reason, the page kept refreshing and crashing. With a sigh, you decide to get the worst of it over with and call Zayne, hoping he can make the change for you on his end. His voice is cool and professional when he answers your call.
“Yes?”
“So, you must have heard about…the new regulation?” you had put forth nervously.
“I am aware of it, yes.” 
“Well, for obvious reasons, I would like a different doctor.” 
Zayne smoothly says, “Of course. Patient comfort is always first. Do you have a doctor in mind?”
“Maybe my gynecologist? I tried doing it in the app but it keeps crashing.” There’s a moment of silence and you can hear Zayne’s fingers tapping away at his keyboard before a low hum leaves his end of the line.
“There appears to be a problem.”
“Problem?” you’d parrotted back.
“Yes. Because so many people are booking appointments at the same time, most of the available doctors are already taken. Including your gynecologist.” 
It felt like watching a bird crashing into a window in slow motion, that brief moment of hope that it wouldn’t hit the glass shattering in an instant. “Oh.”
There’s a pause before Zayne delicately says, “I’m sorry but it looks like you will have to make those appointments with me for this month. 3 of them according to the regulation. Hopefully, you can make the change for next month.” His voice sounded slightly apologetic.
“Won’t it be weird given that we know each other personally?” The question had fallen from your lips before you could stop yourself. 
“I promise not to treat you any differently than any of my other patients who are coming in for this inspection. I understand this may be a little unexpected, but I assure you I did a term of gynecology during my internship.”
A tinge of mirth carried over in his voice and you can’t help but make a noise of embarrassment. “Zayne, please!” His laugh was dry but not unkind, and you can’t help but want to hide your face even though he couldn’t see you. 
“Don’t worry too much. But I do advise you to make the appointments soon. My schedule is filling up rapidly.”
With those words, he’d disconnected the call and you were left wondering if an unknown god from another planet had cursed your existence. 
And changing doctors had proven to be more difficult than you’d thought. The entire organization seemed to be having a single thought. They had made appointments in the app almost halfway into the year, essentially blocking you from being able to do anything about your situation. Now on your third month with Zayne, you watch as he checks his notes from your last session, feeling like you want to scamper from the room.
The last two sessions had been incredibly stimulating, your arousal heightened by the fact you were attracted to Zayne. You’d never considered having someone watch as you touched yourself but found that you’d enjoyed it, at least, when it was him. He had remained professional, but you’d avoided him these last two months, save for when you had to get your monthly cardiac profile. He reads his notes from his computer as he prepares for your session. 
“Preferred device for stimulation still a vibrator, with a large, rounded, flexible head?” His eyes remain on his screen and you’re grateful for him giving you this smidgen of privacy. 
“Yes.”
“Preference for the doggystyle position still?” 
Your face burns. “Yes.”
“Still consenting for verbal stimulation?”
You nod your head.
“And still consenting for internal vaginal stimulation?” You make a noise of consent, squeezing your thighs together, your panties uncomfortably chafing against your already swollen pussy. 
“All right, I have everything I need.” He logs off and removes his lab coat, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing his well-corded arms, and your mouth almost waters at the sight of them. Clearing your throat, you shyly reach into your bag and pull out the vibrator in question, which he takes from you and clamps into a stand, adjusting it over the examination table you’d be on. A bottle of lube awaits on the tray next to the table and you swallow as he finishes the setup. 
“Whenever you’re ready,” he says in that deep voice, and feeling like your fingers are wrapped in thick woolen mittens, you reach behind you to untie the hospital gown you’re wearing, and it falls to the floor with a swoosh, your nipples pebbling under the sudden chill. A small set of sensors were taped to your chest and on the sides of your forehead, essential medical devices to ensure your orgasm was satisfactory. Unperturbed, Zayne gestures to the table and you make your way onto it, letting your feet settle in the stirrups as he settles on a stool between your legs, pulling on latex gloves before gently spreading your folds apart. You stare up at the ceiling as he does his initial checkup.
“Labia look healthy, no signs of trauma or abnormal discharge,” he murmurs, then runs a finger down the edge of the fold that separates your inner and outer lips, causing your core to clench involuntarily. You hold still, knowing very well he saw the action, holding your breath, letting out a little sigh as he lets go. 
“Normal reaction to stimuli, already semi-aroused,” he says, trashing the gloves and making another note on his computer. He glances over at you, leaning back uncertainly on the table. “You may begin.”
You swallow, then carefully turn onto your hands and knees, crawling towards the head of the table, grabbing the bottle of lube and squeezing the viscous liquid onto the head of the vibrator, avoiding eye contact as your breasts sway under the motion, nipples painfully hard from anticipation. You could feel Zayne’s gaze but can’t bring yourself to look up. Even though this was the third time, it hadn’t gotten easier, stripping naked and pleasuring yourself in his office. 
Once the rounded head of the vibrator is slick, you turn, the chill of the lube against your heated membranes causing more blood to flow into your already engorged nub, and run your moist slit across the surface to spread the liquid onto your slickened folds. Your hand fumbles for the little remote control and with a buzz, the vibrator turns on at the lowest setting. You click the button a few more times until it gets to the speed you liked, then fail to hold back a moan as the sensations pleasurably begin to take hold in your clit. 
The first time you had done this, nervousness had made you set the vibrator on the highest possible setting hoping to get a quick orgasm and sprint out of the office. Unfortunately, the sensors relayed this information into Zayne’s medical record that your climax had been unsatisfactory, and you had endured being lectured by him with the medical gown loosely draped on your body, your rear open to the cold office air. 
His tone wasn’t unkind but it hadn’t helped you feel better either. “It helps neither of us if you rush this. The whole purpose of this examination is to ensure you’re relaxing. I know it’s embarrassing but if you fail to have a proper orgasm, I’ll have to make you repeat the process until I get data that says otherwise.”
“The sensors are-”
“The only way to measure anything. Without involving another person anyway.”
His words had left you gobsmacked and your retort had died in your mouth. After that incident, you had learned. Even with the chagrin of having him watch you, you had learned to take your time and let the feelings build, leading to incredibly savory climaxes that made your body squirm from the aftershocks. 
Your hips sway, setting up a rhythm to brush your sensitive slit onto the head, letting it vibrate from cunt to clit, the lube aiding the frictionless sliding and making your core drip. Quiet noises of pleasure leave your throat as help yourself, arching your back and changing the curvature of your ass to maximize the sensations, then when the perfect pattern emerges, you let out a keening sigh, and try to remain still, letting the vibrator work its magic. 
Zayne, who has been quietly observing the computer this entire time, observing the spikes relayed from the sensors, asks, “Have you found your optimal pleasure form?”
“Yes,” you gasp, the timbre of his voice sending an arrow of lust into the deepest parts of your clenching core. You knew what was about to come next. The sound of Zayne’s desk chair moving, followed by the snap of latex gloves as he pulled a fresh pair onto those beautiful hands. He approaches the examination table and takes the bottle of lube you had set aside earlier, a wet squelching noise issuing from it as he squeezes it over his gloved hand, gathering the fluid on his index and middle fingers. He leans over to whisper in your ears; the verbal stimulation has begun.
The humiliating reveal that you had a heavy praise kink had come up during your initial session and despite your insistence that it wasn’t necessary, Zayne, the ever-diligent worker, had made a note in your profile, and he’d been fulfilling it each time. A tickle of hot breath near your ear, before he murmurs, “Are you enjoying yourself?”
The hum of the vibrator in the background coupled with his voice makes your breath catch in your throat. You nod, knowing you didn’t have it in you to form coherent words. 
“That’s a good patient. Good patients listen to their doctors you know. And you’re doing a wonderful job.”
Your hips snap back to push your clit against the rubber pad, letting out a whimper of pleasure, the action pushing your ass up higher, revealing your pathetically drooling cunt, fluttering with the dissatisfaction of being unfilled. 
“Are you ready?” He waits for your consent and you manage a husky, ‘mm hm’.
“Good girl. Take a breath.”
You inhale, trying to relax, then let out an uninhibited moan as Dr. Zayne inserts his middle finger into your needy cunt, the ring of muscles offering no resistance to the probing digit. He gently thrusts a few times, before curling the tip of his finger up into the delicate patch of nerves on your upper wall, the smooth come hither motion awakening a new level of pleasure in your body. Your fingers tighten on the edges of the table, sobbing, trying not to scream at the feelings that threatened to explode from you. He keeps up the gentle assault before asking, “Are you ready for another one?”
“Yes…” your voice comes out shakily, knowing you desired more than just his fingers, but that you would never get to experience it. 
“Perfect. So well behaved, taking exactly what I give you.” Zayne’s sensual voice floods your ear before his index pushes into you, the thickness of both his fingers sending you into overdrive. Your walls clench welcomingly around him, inciting an exciting pull of liquid heat in your abdomen, the muscles tensing in anticipation for the exquisite release you knew was about to occur. 
Feeling your inhibitions abandon you as you are stroked closer to orgasm your self-control slips and his name falls from your lips as he pushes over the edge.
“Zayne…” some partially functioning confine in the back of your brain registers what you had just involuntarily purred, but the spasms rocking your core, those gratifying waves of delight flooding your body made it easier to ignore it as your being is reduced to a pliant mess of pleasure. His fingers ease up as the fluttering in your pussy calms down, your clit pulsating weakly as the final vestiges of pleasure are wrung from your body. 
With a wet noise, his fingers leave your moist hole, the glove coated with your juices and the lubricant. Awareness finally comes crashing around you as you realize what you had uttered in the throes of passion. 
“I…I didn’t…I wasn’t in control…” You try to find a way to explain, to let him know you had very little choice in the matter of sobbing his name as you orgasmed, but everything feels flat, almost on the fine line between explaining and insulting. 
“There’s no need.” Almost as if he’s read your mind, Zayne matter-of-factly redirects the conversation. “It’s not uncommon to blurt out things during climax. Some people swear, and others call out names. It was a very normal reaction considering I was the one in the room with you.”
He throws the gloves in the trash and goes to check the computer, to ensure the sensors had given him the information he needed before starting the second round of the appointment.
“Oh.” You say quietly as he sits at his desk, feeling dejected. Although relieved he wasn’t making a big deal out of it, you can’t help but feel disappointed with his reaction. Shouldn’t a man be flattered when a woman cried out his name when she came? Maybe he really was treating you strictly as a patient. And here you were, pussy exposed and spread after being probed by his dextrous fingers, mooning over him like a high school girl. Perhaps the limit of your relationship with him was in fact, doctor and patient, the childhood friends aspect fading. 
So there was no romance here at all. You had a crush on him, and he was doing his job. Reality sucks. You sniff and suddenly feel cheap, and get out of the doggystyle position and try to find the hospital gown to preserve some of your modesty. Zayne glances over at your sudden movements.
“Are you cold? I can get you a blanket.”
“I’m fine.” You try to sound normal. 
“Your records show that you usually rest about 10 minutes before you are ready for the next round. Do you feel like that will be the case this time too?”
You find the gown and drag it up to your chin, covering your body as you lay back on the table. “Yeah. Actually a little sooner today maybe. I have somewhere to be.”
“You can’t rush these things. Your body will cum when it wants to. A forced orgasm doesn’t promote anything beneficial.”
“Well can we find a way for this to happen quickly and in compliance with the sensors?” You’re trying not to let your frustration show, the pleasantness of your orgasm fading. “I don’t think I have the patience to do two more rounds.”
Zayne listens to you impassively, but those amber eyes flecked with green had an underlying intensity you couldn’t place. “You don’t have the patience to do two more rounds?” He gets up and comes over to you. “You want to just leave then?” He approaches the edge of the table and there’s tension in his jaw. Perplexed, you look at him, his reaction unexpected. 
“No, I’m sorry, I know I can’t leave because of compliance and all that.”
“Compliance,” Zayne mutters under his breath before grasping your chin and forcing you to look at him, a gasp leaving your throat. 
“You’re getting frustrated because you have to do this a few times every month while being supervised? Do you have any idea what I have to do before you come in for these sessions?” His voice is a growl and you clam up, shocked by this aggressive display of expression from him.
“Every month I have to remain professional as you come in, pleasure yourself, and then leave. I have to endure seeing your beautiful body bare in front of me and control all my impulses to touch you, to not overstep my limitations as your doctor. I pleasure myself remembering the noises you make and ensure I’m well spent before coming in to do your appointments. You sit there, acting like it’s hard for you, but do you have any idea what you do to me?”
One of his knees is on the table, and he’s looming over you making you feel like a tiny animal caught in his fury. “It’s torture, to watch you. You’re not like the other patients I see. You never have been. Because with you, I always feel like I’m on the verge of losing control. Do you know how difficult it is to not do things to you that aren’t specified on your medical record? To have my fingers so intimately inside you, feel every little drop of pleasure clenching around my fingers, knowing at the end I can’t have you to myself? To hear you call my name and know that you only see me as your doctor?” 
Your face is a bright shade of red but you can’t look away from his face. His teeth are gritted, and when you dare to glance down, you see the noticeable bulge that has formed between his legs. He follows your glance and clicks his tongue, letting go of your chin. 
“I know I crossed a boundary today. It’s all right. You can go. I’ll reschedule you with another doctor. I know you didn’t want me in the first place.”
Your mind is a blur as you quickly reach out to grab his hand, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. His admission was like a prayer answered, and you weren’t going to meek about this. His breath hitches as he feels you pulling at his hand and gives you a look of uncertainty. Your lips part but the words you want to say refuse to come out. 
“Damn it,” he whispers ferally before his mouth captures yours in a rough kiss. It was wild and demanding, a contrast to the reserved, patient man he usually was. You’re swept up in the feeling of his mouth on yours, the taste of his tongue, and the softness of his lips. When you break apart, his hand cups your cheek, his eyes searching your face.
“This isn’t just because of the session right?” He asks keenly and you realize what he’s asking you. He’d been aching for you before this whole stupid policy came into place. The same way you’d been longing for him. 
“No, it’s not. I had a crush on you back when you became my doctor to check on my heart condition.” A sigh of relief leaves him before he tenderly presses his forehead to yours, and you’re caught up in the sweetness of the moment. 
“I just had to be sure.”
Boldly, you raise your head, delighted when he meets you, pulled back into his kiss, your tongues sliding over each other, your fingers tangling into his hair, scratching the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you. 
You gasp as he breaks the kiss to drag his tongue down the column of your throat, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the heated flesh, your blood humming in your veins as your eyes flutter closed. He pulls away the gown and pulls your perked nipple into his mouth, and you revel in the jolt of pleasure it brings you, each suckle felt in your clit which had already swollen up again in need. His fingers capture your other nipple, softly tweaking and pulling it and drawing little whines of desire from your throat. 
Your hand finds the junction between his legs and cups the heavy bulge, drawing a groan from him, palming him through his slacks, feeling it grow and tent the fabric under your ministrations. A low guttural sound leaves him and he gets off the table, and you almost protest until you see him dragging the small wheeled stool from earlier towards the table. He settles down on it, looping his arms around the tops of your thighs and pulling you closer to the table's edge until your feet find the stirrups again. 
“Stay open for me darling,” he instructs, his eyes glittering and you shiver as you feel his breath against your swollen folds. You squeak as he pushes your folds apart with his nose, inhaling your scent, his eyes growing dark with lust. “You smell delicious. I always wondered. Had to stop myself from sniffing my gloves after you climaxed. Not professional you know.” 
The musky tang of your pussy fills his senses, and his tongue darts out and dips into your slit, finding the swollen bud and licking it with just the right pressure that makes your toes curl and stars pop into your vision. 
Your hand rests on his head, tugging his beautiful dark locks, his name falling from your lips without barriers. Your hips rock against him, moaning, then let a sob as his lips suction around your clit. His fingers, free from the gloves at last, probe your entrance, scissoring inside to prepare you for what was to come before they curl up into that gummy patch that he knew too well. 
The sensations flood you, and the sheer knowledge of knowing you had Zayne touching you this way, unbound by the usual rules was sending you into a frenzy. Incoherent noises leave your mouth, crying out hotly as he teases the orgasm from you, your body shivering from the intensity. 
He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and takes in your appearance, so soft and satisfied on his table, a dreamy look in your eyes.
“Are you prepared for the after?” he asks, you nod, more than eager to experience him. A sly smile crosses his face before he reaches over into the little chest of drawers by the table and pulls out a condom. 
“Hospitals have free condoms. It would be impractical to not use one when it’s on hand.” He explains seeing your questioning look and stands to undo his pants. You watch curiously as his cock is finally freed, eyes widening as it faces you, so impressive and veiny, standing proudly with a slight curve in its length. His pubes were neatly trimmed at the base, ebony curls visible behind the shaft. As he starts to roll on the condom, you feel your whole body heating up in anticipation. 
He leans down to kiss you before taking your feet and resting them on his shoulders, his cock at the perfect angle to enter you. As he sinks into your welcoming heat, you let out a sigh of longing, feeling the delicious stretch of muscle as he pushes up inside you, gasping as you feel his full length sheathe itself. As he bottoms out, his eyes close in bliss, hardly daring to believe that after all this time, he is finally getting to fulfill this private dream. 
Each stroke has him brushing against your gspot and kissing your cervix as he paces himself, feeling the primal urge to take you roughly and selfishly calling at his self-control. A growl leaves his throat as you whimper, straining towards him as the both of you struggle to keep a grip on reality. He feels the seductive way your walls clench around him, hears the soft noises you make, sees your face contort in pleasure with every roll of his hips. 
“Oh you feel so good,” he pants hotly, glasses askew, almost at the tip of his nose as he thrusts. “Clenching me so needily. Gonna milk me dry.”
Your response is a shuddering whimper, your back arching greedily to feel all of him, creating the perfect curvature to brush your clit against the base of his erection with each push of his hips. He feels the little bud on his heated skin, your combined fluids dripping onto his shaft, slickening the bundle of nerves with each stroke. 
“Be a good girl and cum on my cock the way you do on my fingers.” Zayne’s voice is husky as he tries to hold on, damned if he came before you. “I know you want to. I can feel the way your walls are spasming. They always do this pattern before you orgasm.”
The fact that he had memorized this knowledge of you was too much and you let go, your voice filling the room as you climax. Zayne’s hips stutter as he feels you around his length, pussy fluttering so him. His pace quickens, the sound of slapping skin becoming more and more urgent, his balls hitting your ass each time as he chases his orgasm. 
A shiver passes through his body as it happens and he buries himself in your warmth. You hum in satisfaction as you feel his cock twitch and pulse inside you as he spills his load. He pants, sweat on his forehead as he bends down to kiss you again, carefully lowering your legs which burn from the stretch as they settle on the stirrups. 
Threading your fingers through his hair, you brush your noses together, smiling shyly at him as he smirks, his eyes closing as he catches his breath.
“Can I see you outside of my office sometime?” he asks and you laugh at the invitation. 
“Are you asking me out on a date after having sex just once?” you tease as he grips the base of the condom and slides out, your pussy feeling the loss keenly. 
“I have been wanting to for a while. I was just wondering if I was misreading the signals. But I think I have a solid answer now.” He helps you sit up and cradles your body against his, idly stroking your skin, before gently removing the sensors off your body. 
“Let’s get dressed,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead after a moment of cozy silence, and the both of you hunt down your clothes. As he fixes his tie, Zayne passes by his computer and lets out an amused huff. 
“Something funny?” you ask as you button your blouse.
“The sensors definitely gave enough information to make anyone’s head spin.” You walk over and snort as you see the window, full of sharp spikes. 
“Well, at least I am guaranteed you had a good time.” Zayne’s eyes sparkle mischievously as he pulls you in for another kiss. 
“I’m not changing my doctor,” you reassure him as you pull away. There’s amusement in his gaze when he replies. 
“Oh, definitely not. I think if the Hunter’s Association ever sees this record, they’ll heavily advise you to remain with the same healthcare professional.” 
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earthtooz · 1 year ago
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x : NOT JEALOUS ! :*+゚
in which: alhaitham isn't jealous, he doesn't get jealous, so what is this suffocating feeling in his chest that only happens when you're talking to another man that isn't him?
warnings: 5.4k words, jealous!alhaitham x gn!reader who has loads of rizz, university!au, fluff with angst but happy ending, pining!alhaitham who doesn't realise that he loves you, kaveh is there, mention of cyno, ooc at some bits?, swearing, alhaitham is a little bit of an asshole at some parts sawry. he's bad with feelings.
a/n: inspired by @danijaci's jealous jealous boy comic with alhaitham! hi dani if you're reading this pls don't perceive me... hides... but i hope you all like it :,)
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Alhaitham isn’t jealous. 
The uncomfortable feeling obstructing itself in his throat is just because he’s beginning to develop a sore throat- that’s all. It is flu season after all, who knows what kind of bacteria are in the air? Ones capable of lathing an uncomfortable oil that burns inside his chest, the smog crowding its way into his heart, sickening him to his core as Alhaitham can’t help but eavesdrop on the conversation happening beside him.
“I’m free friday,” a voice besides you confirms.
“Okay!” you cheer, sounding a little too happy for Alhaitham’s liking. After all, it’s 9 am, who has this much energy in the morning? “lets do Friday then!”
“Sounds good, I’ll see you then. Bye Y/n.”
“Bye, see you!” Alhaitham watches from the corner of his eye as you wave to the random stranger you’ve decided to associate yourself with before finally taking the seat beside him with a sigh. 
He doesn’t say anything to you, feeling your eyes glance at him expectantly as he stares stubbornly at the lecture board instead of acknowledging you or the jumble of feelings clogging up his diaphragm. 
“Hello, you,” You lean over slightly, careful to not invade his personal space whilst waving at him, hoping to catch his attention. He glances at you, nodding in greeting before returning to his book, the pages and rows of words only fuelling his unease he suddenly felt. He doesn’t even know where he left off, the book’s events a blur in Alhaitham’s mind.
How bothersome. What’s happening to him?
“Talkative today, aren’t you?” Your tone is playful despite his cold attitude and Alhaitham sneaks another look in your direction, noting the way your lips curve upwards. “So, how are you?” 
“I’m fine,” he murmurs, inserting a bookmark between the pages before slamming it shut, an indicator that you could keep conversing with him.
“Cool.” You tap your nails on the desks of the lecture hall. “Oh, I finished my essay the other day.”
“The one for your elective?”
You hum in agreement, “I hope I never get it back. Submitted it ten minutes before the due date.”
“You know you wouldn’t have been stressed over it if you just started it earlier-”
“I know, I know,” you huff, “spare your productivity lectures for another time, I’ll be needing them later in the semester.” The grey-haired shakes his head as you laugh, but his gaze returns to the front cover of his book as he solemnly thinks about the interaction you had with another man, right in front of him. 
(What right did he have to see you smiling so earnestly like that?)
“Who was that?” Alhaitham coughs out, barely choking down his pride in time to make space for the question.
You murmur some guy’s name that he doesn’t bother to remember. “He’s a friend of mine in the same discussion group for this course and we decided to do the assignment together. He bumped into me on the way in so we were just planning when to meet to do the research.”
“Oh.” Your answer doesn’t calm the churning in Alhaitham’s gut. Not even one bit, in fact, it makes it worse. 
But it’s not jealousy, Alhaitham doesn’t get jealous because he’s above petty feelings of inadequacy. He’s merely concerned for you, worried for your brainpower by the end of the project because your partner seems less-than-incompetent. If you’d picked someone like Alhaitham (or better yet, just picked Alhaitham), you would’ve aced the class without even blinking an eye. 
(The two of you are friends, so why didn’t you pick him? It’s literally been proven that the two of you are compatible working together since you were both executives of Sumeru’s Cultural Society, and amidst all of the activities the club has run, you’ve collaborated many times to make each event run flawlessly. So why not him? Why would you pick another man over him?)
“You know you could have picked me, I wouldn’t mind working on the assignment with you,” he grumbles, words soft but very clear.
Alhaitham misses the way your eyes widen in shock as apologies scramble out of your mouth. “I’m sorry! I automatically assumed that you wanted to work on it by yourself. Next time I’ll ask you.” 
The lecture begins before he could say anything in return and like a robot, he sets his thoughts aside and begins listening, notes document up and cursor blinking at the ready.
A mundane two hours pass by, one powerpoint slide after powerpoint slide before the lecture is finally over, much to your pleasure. Alhaitham notices the way you eagerly jump out of your seat to stretch, grabbing your bag. On the other hand, your grey-haired accomplice takes his time in packing up, forcing you to wait for him.
“Would you like to get some coffee before the meeting?” You ask.
“Sure, we can find a seat there and join it together,” he adds and you beam at him, expression bright and so enchanting that it makes him forget about all the perplexities he felt before the lecture. 
The two of you make your way to one of the many campus cafés where you practically wrestled Alhaitham to stop him from paying for both your orders (losing in the end) before sitting at a booth, your laptop set up with a pair of Alhaitham’s earphones shared between you. The meeting begins to fill up with almost all committee members, even Kaveh, who resides in his room of his and Alhaitham’s shared flat. Upon noticing him, you go to text him, with the grey-haired peeking over your shoulder from time to time to see your conversation- not that he cares that much.
(Perhaps if Kaveh glanced up from his phone, then he’d see how close Alhaitham had gotten with you, breaching the distance that he prefers to keep around others. He’d also notice the headphone sharing despite how he generally tends to keep them out of anyone else’s hands.)
You’re tasked with the role of taking notes for the meeting since Alhaitham, in your opinion, is not at all a reliable scribe. His notes tend to just include vital information and never what everyone else needs to know, yet each time you scold him for it, his unbothered expression never falters, waving your complaints off with a shrug. 
“Hey, Kaveh and I are going to go for lunch tomorrow after our classes. Care to join?” You ask, smiling at him hopefully as your messages with Kaveh sit open on your screen. Alhaitham doesn’t think twice before agreeing. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“It looks like it’s about to rain,” you murmur, pulling out a chair as Alhaitham and Kaveh take their seats opposite you. 
“So it does,” Alhaitham notes, not caring to look too long out the window before returning his gaze to you. “You have an umbrella, right?”
“I, uh, didn’t think I needed one today.”
“Do you not check the weather before you leave?”
“Not everyone’s like you, Alhaitham.” Kaveh teases. “It’s no problem, Y/n, if it rains I can walk you back to your dorm.”
“Only if you are okay with it,” you insist, “I have no problem walking home in the rain. I love the rain.”
Alhaitham intervenes with a raise of his hand. “Nonsense, you’ll catch a cold. We’ll walk you home.”
A soft but genuine ‘thank you’ slips from your lips, neither of you wiser to the way Kaveh eyes his roommate suspiciously, not missing the use of ‘we’ in his sentence and the implications the collective pronoun has. For it meant that Alhaitham is willing to take precious time out of his day to perform an act for someone that he is not indebted to do. Not that Alhaitham is inherently selfish, per se, but he is a man of routine. He wakes up every morning and takes five minutes to scribble on his stupid whiteboard in the kitchen what he has to do for the day and strictly abides by it, not even straying two minutes off schedule.
Willingly volunteering his minutes? Kaveh finds that suspicious. 
“So, how’s your architecture assignment, Kaveh?” You ask, breaking the blond from his daze whilst Alhaitham pours glasses of water for the table, starting with your cup. 
“A nightmare,” he sighs, sinking into his chair. “I still have so much to do, you know my professor didn’t like my blueprint? How ridiculous! I hope that man steps in a puddle and wets his sock.”
The grey-haired pipes up with a remark. “I can’t wait for it to be done, our living room is a mess right now.” 
“Hey, I am the one that cleans that living room, thank you very much. Your bookshelf is still a mess even though I’ve asked you to clean it five times.”
“If it bothers you so much then why don’t you do it yourself?”
“I’m the only one who-”
“-I’m going to go to the bathroom,” you murmur, cutting the conversation before shuffling out of your chair, seemingly eager to do so.
Kaveh turns to the grey-haired again, “and you just scared away Y/n.”
“Sorry no one wants to hear about your architecture project.”
“Y/n literally asked, asshole.”
A rebuttal sits on the tip of Alhaitham’s tongue- as it always does when it comes to bickering with his roommate, but it dies out when an intruder comes to the table. “Excuse me, I hate to interrupt,” he begins, “but the person who just got up, is that your friend?”
“Yeah, why do you ask?”
“Oh, I just wanted to drop this off, mind passing it over for me?” The piece of paper he was holding lands in Kaveh’s hand. “Thanks, bro.” Is all he says before strolling away, out of sight but definitely not out of mind.
The blond does not hesitate to open it up, chuckling in amusement when reading the content. “’Hey you’re cute, here’s my number’ it says. What a bitch! You didn’t like his vibes either, right, Alhaitham?”
“Hold on, what does the note say?”
Grabbing (snatching) it from Kaveh, the grey-haired has half a mind to rip the note apart, a certain sense of distaste washing over him that intensifies the long he stares at the guy’s handwriting. His eye is twitching. Why is his eye twitching?
“Hey!” He hears Kaveh call. “Don’t scrunch it, that’s Y/n’s-“
Alhaitham stuffs the ball of paper into his bag where he’ll recycle it later even though something irrational within him tells him to burn it. “Y/n won’t miss it. You said it yourself, he’s a bitch.”
“Sure, but why are you doing-“
“Hey!” You interrupt, sliding back into your chair with a grin on your face. “So, what did I miss?”
“Nothing,” the grey-haired murmurs, assuming his crossed-arm position. Kaveh side eyes his roommate before agreeing with a hum. “Let’s order something now. We want to beat the rain, right?”
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
This meeting for the Sumeru Society might have been one of the most important ones of the year thus far, with almost every committee member expected to attend. After all, the annual ball was a big event that always had the largest turnout, and the amount of planning that goes into it to ensure its success is almost triple that of its other events.
So why weren’t you here?
“Why did you leave the meeting early on Friday?” Alhaitham asks as soon as he sees you.
You pause briefly, eyes widening and eyebrows raising. It must have been the way that Alhaitham’s voice raised a pitch towards the end of the question, demonstrating a nervous break in character that was not at all typical. Cool and collected would be the defining words to describe Alhaitham, as well as someone who does not care for the menial activities of others, so what is he doing asking you? And why does he care so much?
“I, uh, had dinner with someone,” you confess, continuing to grab your books and laptop, missing the way his features contort into something un-cool, and very un-Alhaitham.
“Whom?”
You murmur the name of some other guy, who he vaguely recalls to be your project partner.
“What?” Alhaitham snaps.
“I didn’t think missing out on some of the meeting would be a big deal! I got another committee member to explain what I missed,” you justified. “Besides, there’s no big events going on right now, so I thought-”
“-That you could abandon your tasks and go have fun with someone else?”
Alhaitham’s not really sure why he said that. He’s not angry that you skipped a meeting; there are larger things in the world to worry about, he’s angry because you spent time with another guy that wasn’t him.Why not go to dinner with him instead? He spends it every night with Kaveh, and you are far more favourable than Kaveh.  
“Is it really something to get mad over? I already told you, I got the meeting notes and everything-”
“-You’re an executive of the society, Y/n, more is expected from you.”
“Seriously?” you ask, “how come you didn’t bat an eye when the vice president wasn’t there the other day?”
“Because she was sick.” 
“Okay, fine! what about the subcommittee? they’re not always there either!” 
“They’re subcom. Whether they miss a meeting or not is not crucial.”
“So, it’s just my business that you care about?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed, disbelief clouding over your expression like a mask.
Again, Alhaitham doesn’t know where these punches are coming from and why he’s throwing them against you so viciously, but his heart is tightening defensively with a burning emotion that he’s been feeling more and more recently, and his first instinct is to lash out, to protect himself from it.
Perhaps it’s because foreign things that he can’t understand terrify him and you, all you ever do is make him feel things that he’s never felt before and he can’t understand why. 
“You’re not that special.”
A flash of hurt gleams in your eyes and Alhaitham knows now that he’s royally fucked up. “You’re an ass,” you grumble, about to walk away when he intercepts.
“Listen to me!”
“Fuck off!” 
“Y/n-”
You’re gone before he can get another word out, retreating figure stomping away whilst his chest weaves into knots; something that no amount of deep breathing can calm. It doesn’t help that the minute he returns home, Kaveh is onto him like some sort of parasite, curious over the tense air surrounding his normally-composed roommate. 
“Hey, welcome home- whoa, what’s gotten into you?” The blond asks.
“None of your business,” Alhaitham grumbles through gritted teeth, taking his shoes off and throwing them aside haphazardly. Kaveh doesn’t miss the way Alhaitham’s jaw is clenched, or the strain in his hand when he brings up a hand to run through his hair, or the very subtle and minute twitch in his cheek.
The blond ignores all signs that he wants to be left alone, and instead, follows the grey-haired to his room after he swung the door open. 
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on, let’s talk about this-”
“Talk about what?” Alhaitham growls.
“Who pissed in your black coffee today?” 
“No one. Now get lost.” 
“Aw, come on, you know what they say. Getting things off your chest is always beneficial.”
“There’s nothing on my chest, go away.”
“You sure? no stress, no deadlines, no love interest making you tear your hair out-”
“-No, no, none of those!”
“Then what?”
Alhaitham steadies himself by resting his elbows on his thighs, hands clasped together as he exhales loudly. “I got pissed and took it out on Y/n, who’s mad at me now.”
“Huh? Why so annoyed?”
“Because Y/n went to dinner with another man.”
It’s silent for a while. The sassy quip that he expects from Kaveh does not happen. Instead, the blond merely smiles, a satisfied, knowing grin that slightly irks him. “You know, I’ve been waiting for the day you realise you have feelings for Y/n.” 
“What? Where did you get that conclusion from?” Alhaitham sits up straighter. There are a lot of things he knows, and he knows for sure that he does not like you in any way beyond platonic. He doesn’t have any time to spare for love. There are scholarships he still needs to apply for, internships to be interviewed for, research projects to submit- nowhere amongst the minute hand of the clock is there space for love. 
“Oh come on,” Kaveh sits down on the bed beside his roommate, leaning back on his hands. “You’re not as smooth as you hope to be sometimes.”
“I’m serious, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Y’know the sooner you accept you have feelings for Y/n, the easier life will be.”
“Life is already easy and there is no sooner because I don’t like Y/n like that. Now get lost. I have stuff I need to finish.”
Kaveh shrugs, standing up with a soft ‘suit yourself’, taking seven steps before he’s out of the room. Alhaitham lets out a sigh that has lodged itself in his throat for too long, and the feeling of reprieve he gets is short-lived before he’s flooded with a certain tightness again. Maybe he did have a weight on his chest after all, not that he’d ever admit it to himself or Kaveh.
He gets up from his made bed with a grunt and decides to push aside all distractions. Time is unforgiving, and if doesn’t finish his assignment by this Friday then he’ll be a little less than pleased.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Alhaitham feels like he can’t breathe. 
You’re sitting alone at a library desk, all focused and concentrated on your laptop screen with your headphones on, blocking out any outside voice as you type away. He wonders if he should say hi, maybe try apologising for the way he acted last Monday- who is this guy that’s approaching you and why does he look so familiar? 
And why are you smiling so happily?
You beckon to the seat beside you and the guy readily complies, taking the chair beside you like he belonged there, like there weren’t other candidates that should be there instead (he’s not talking about himself. definitely not).
He hands you one of two coffee cups he’s holding. What kind of right does this guy have to give you a coffee? Does he even know your order?
He feels like a bit of creep keenly watching you interact with someone else from a balcony of the library, but the book and laptop in front of him lies forgotten, and in a rare moment of weakness, Alhaitham can’t find it in himself to return to his tasks, pursuit of knowledge momentarily forgotten. He can’t push aside the bile that threatens to rise, he can’t loosen his grip on the couch’s armrest, and he can’t blink for a second in fear of losing you from his sight.
(You’re laughing. Why are you laughing? How can you look so pretty laughing and why doesn’t he ever get to make you laugh like this?)
Alhaitham is losing his damn mind. So much so that the first thing he does when he sees you again is corner you. 
“You shouldn’t talk to that guy anymore.”
You’re backed against the brick walls of the time-worn building that your shared lecture always takes place in, and Alhaitham, spotting you like a hawk, put you in this precarious position as soon as the two hours were over. 
He can’t breathe. It’s been almost three weeks since you last spoke to him and you’re staring up at him like you’ve done nothing wrong, blinking once and twice at his uncharacteristic display of subtle aggression. 
“Who?” you mutter, shaking your head to try and grasp reality once again. you hug your laptop closer to your body. “What’s this about?”
“I said you shouldn’t talk to that guy anymore.” 
“What guy?” 
“Your project partner.”
“Really?” you mutter in disbelief.
He nods, teal eyes shining at you firmly. “Really. The project’s over, you don’t need to talk to him anymore.” 
“I don’t recall ever giving you the right to dictate who gets to be in my life or not, just like how you can’t tell me what to do with my time.” 
“I’m looking out for you, so stop trying to make me sound tyrannical.” 
Your mouth hangs open as you furrow your eyebrows, growing more and more frustrated with each second. So much for thinking that he wanted to resolve the awkwardness between the two of you. “I’m not even going to argue with you,” you murmur a quick ‘jerk’ under your breath before brushing past him. 
Alhaitham, however, is not willing to let you go as easily as you wish, quick to chase after you. Not that you go far anyways, turning around to face him again in the spaciousness of the vacant hallway. “Why do you care?” You ask, exasperated. “You’re Alhaitham, you don’t let trivial things like who I hangout with bother you, you’re cool and collected and rational, and I just don’t understand why you’re acting like this.”
He doesn’t understand either, not the erratic beating of his heart, the stubbornness of his mind, nor this undisputable urge to keep you all to himself. Is it normal to want to hide someone for selfish reasons?
Trailing off, Alhaitham is slightly humiliated that for the first time in his life, someone has witnessed him coming short of an answer. No logical conclusion, no explanation, not even a satisfying quip, just plain, suffocating silence.
“Right. When you do have an answer, let me know.” You walk away.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Your last rebuttal still weighs heavily on Alhaitham’s mind, even two days later as he and Kaveh are seated for a lecture in a shared course. His thoughts are scrambled like never before, the messiness of it all making him feel uneasy because for once, he doesn’t have an appropriate answer to a question.
Why was he acting like a temperamental teenager? What you did with your life was up to you, and indeed he has no right trying to change that. More importantly, why was it so hard to apologise for the stuff he said-
“So, how’s everything between you and Y/n?” 
Kaveh turns to him with widened eyes whilst Alhaitham’s poker face doesn’t move an inch, deceivingly apathetic.
“Good, we’ve been hanging out a lot more recently,” the other guy says, who Alhaitham quickly recognises to be your project partner and distaste rises in his stomach like bile. 
“Aye, good for you, man! So when are you going to ask Y/n out?”
“No way, bro, not yet. I’m such a wimp, but I hope I grow the balls to ask soon because I really like-”
“-looks like you got some competition!” The blond nudges Alhaitham, and if it were anyone else, they would not have glanced twice at the grey-haired who seemed unmoving and uninterested. However, Kaveh is not anyone else because he noticed the darkened look in Alhaitham’s eyes instantly, anger seeping into his composed gaze as his nose scrunches in disgust. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“So, you and Alhaitham still aren’t talking?” Kaveh asks, leaning on the table of the restaurant with curious ears, hoping that he can grab some answers out of you as to why there was a stalemate between you and his roommate.
“Nope,” you sigh. 
“Why not?”
“I’m just-” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “I’m just waiting on an apology from him.”
“An apology? Why? What did he say?”
“He didn’t tell you?”
“You know how he is. Always insufferably secretive, so no, I don’t know anything that happened.” 
“Alhaitham just said some hurtful things to me, and he was being weird when I told him I was going to dinner with a friend of mine. Just kept being in my business.”
“Really?” The architecture student quirks a brow, confusion plastered on his face. “That’s not like Alhaitham at all.”
“I know, right? He kept trying to be like ‘don’t hang out with him’ and ridiculed me for not playing my part as an executive of the Sumeru society,” you complained, “like sorry I have other things I want to do.”
Kaveh nods in understanding as the conversation briefly stops when the waiter comes to drop off utensils at your table. As soon as they were gone, however, you begin again.
“And even though he was all up in my business, trying to tell me what not to do, he then said that I wasn’t special, which is so confusing because like-”
“-hold on. Alhaitham said that you weren’t special?” You nod at his parroted claim. “To him?” 
“Yeah. Stung like shit when he said that, especially since I thought we were friends but guess not,” you murmur sadly, fiddling with the fork.
Later that night, almost immediately after meeting you over dinner, Kaveh barges into his roommate’s room, not even changing out of his outside clothes. The sudden intrusion shocks Alhaitham who was busy typing on a document, textbook splayed open beneath him but momentarily forgotten as the blond takes a seat on the bed.
“What the- not even a hello?” The grey-haired asks, confused by this uncharacteristic silence of Kaveh’s. It’s pretty normal for the blond to barge into his room without notice, but it was not normal for him to be so quiet, practically brooding on the mattress. “Whatever. Where have you been? Have you eaten yet, because I made-”
“When will you just confess to Y/n?”
The mention of your name causes a spike in Alhaitham’s heartbeat and he swivels around instantly, attention fully directed towards his roommate. “Where is this coming from?”
“Y/n told me everything that happened between you two by the way-”
“-what, when?”
“Tonight, we just met for dinner.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“What would you have done if you knew? Showed up and made things worse?” He doesn’t say anything in retaliation, merely shutting his mouth and furrowing his eyebrows. “Why did you say that Y/n wasn’t special to you?” 
“I didn’t,” Alhaitham sighs, very loud and very perplexed. “I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did.”
“Don’t you miss Y/n? You two used to hangout so often.”
“I do, of course I do!” He exclaims, burrowing his face in his hands. 
“So why aren’t you apologising?” 
“Because whenever I’m around Y/n, I’m not who I normally am,” he mutters, “especially everything whenever that project partner is around-”
“Jealous, much?”
“I’m not jealous.”
“Oh come on, you’re ridiculous. Stop pushing away your feelings and just be honest with yourself, Alhaitham! Y/n is not just a friend to you and you know it.”
“But, we are just friends-”
“So you mean to tell me that if I hung out with someone else- like if I hung out with Cyno, you would be pissed?”
“What? No, of course not.”
“Then why is it different with Y/n?” Once again, Alhaitham doesn’t have an answer to the question, sitting as still as a statue hunched over his desk. “Fine, I’ll spell it out to you. You like Y/n, more than just a friend!”
The silence leftover from Kaveh’s outburst is tense and full as the grey-haired lets the words sink in. 
“I’ll let you think about it,” the blond murmurs, voice softening dramatically as he stalks out of the room. Before he closes the door, however, he leaves a few final words. “Just- be honest with yourself, Alhaitham, and I wouldn’t delay trying to talk to Y/n.”
A sharp click rings through the room.
Alhaitham is no stranger to being alone, for who needs the company of others when you are happiest by yourself? Yet, in the weeks that you have not been speaking to him, a cardinal urge as been growing each and each day, wanting him to do something so atypical of him: to reach out and make the first move. Every passing day doesn’t lessen the thoughts that plague his mind, rather, they make him more and more impatient, because what if you get swept away by your project partner? 
(What if he’ll be too late? What if you won’t know of these powerful emotions that are steering through the storm in his heart? What if you won’t know just how badly he was been wanting you- wanting to see you, wanting to apologise, wanting to see you beam at him like you always would.
What if you won’t know that he adores you, especially now that he’s figured it out?).
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
A rain droplet falls and lands on your nose, another lands on your forehead, then another lands on your lip then more and more keep falling from the cloudy sky, falling through the leaves and landing on the bench you were currently sitting on. Goodness, you should have checked the weather before leaving your dorm. Why was it now out of all times that it had to rain, what would Alhaitham think after he finally decided to reach out to talk?
Taking your phone out to message the grey-haired about relocating, an umbrella is suddenly held over you, stopping the gentle drizzle from falling onto you. Looking up, you’re greeted by a familiar face that you have been missing too much recently.
“Hello, you,” you breathe, voice gentle and quiet and Alhaitham feels like he can finally breathe after so long, the scent of rain washing away all perplexion.
He nods at you in greeting before offering you the bouquet of flowers he was holding. A gorgeous arrangement of pink of white stare prettily at you and a man even more gorgeous expects you to accept it.
“For me?” You ask.
“For you.”
“Thank you, they’re so beautiful,” you take his gift with gentle hands, holding it close to your chest. 
“I want to apologise,” he firmly states, getting straight to the point; very Alhaitham of him. “For treating you the way I have been recently.”
You beam at him, so bright and so gorgeous that it renders him speechless, a feat pretty difficult when it comes to someone like Alhaitham who has a whole dictionary of words, in multiple languages too. Somehow, they all flock out of his mind the second you smile at him.  
“I accept your apology, thank you for reaching out, must have been hard for someone like you, huh?” You tease, standing up from the bench.
“Well, I had do for someone as special as you.” The grey-haired’s voice is deceivingly confident and assured, but you know better, especially when he looks away to hide his expression with his neatly styled bangs. 
“No need for the flattery, you know, I’ve already forgiven you.” There’s a moment of silence that occupies the air, caused by Alhaitham’s hesitation as he fishes his brain for the courage to ask you out. You speak before he can get a word out, however. “I got asked out the other day.”
“By your groupmate?”
“He has a name, you know, but, yeah. I rejected him, though,” you laugh awkwardly, almost like you were trying to cope with it by playing it off. “Did you know that he would do that?” 
“Yes. I did.”
“Is that why you were so adamant on me not hanging out with him?”
“I guess you could say that. We can talk more about it another time,” he tells you, voice gentle and caring to mask the subtle hit of jealousy he feels in his chest, scolding himself for letting someone else confess to you before him. However, it’s a minute sensation in comparison to the triumph Alhaitham feels knowing that you rejected the other party. 
“We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”
“We do, but I want to ask you something first.” 
You nod, hugging the bouquet closer to your chest, anticipation heavy in the air as you spur him to continue. 
“If I asked you out, would you reject me too?”
A mere second passes by where you don’t respond, yet the second stretches out to what feels like eternity as Alhaitham’s stomach churns. Patience is something he doesn’t lack, but how can he be patient when his heart wants you so bad? 
Then, you take his hand, and the heavens sing at the feeling of your hand in his. “I wouldn’t, but are you asking me out?”
“Are you free right now?”
“I am. Why?”
“Let’s go out then. On a date.”
“I'd love to.” You rise up to place a lingering kiss on his cheek, one that has his heart racing with joy rather than frustration.
The smile you earn is gentle, shy, but says more than Alhaitham's words ever can.
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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covenofagatha · 20 days ago
Text
A Helping Hand
You're helping your Professor gather ingredients for a potion she's brewing when you accidentally knock over a jar of sex pollen and need help.
Word count: ~3100
Warnings: smut, mommy kink, fingering, Top Agatha, magic cock, blowjob, magic cum, pure filth, teacher x student, age gap (everyone's legal)
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Your brow furrows as you stare at the open spell book in front of you. You have a Potions test tomorrow for Professor Harkness, and evident by your lack of understanding of any of the words on the page, you are not going to do well. 
“What’s wrong?” your roommate, Wanda, asks you. The two of you are the top witches at the Academy of Dark Arts, and yet, neither of you has a strong suit in potions. 
And of course, the Potions teacher, Agatha Harkness, is the hardest teacher you have. 
“This is impossible. How am I supposed to remember that, for the Wolfsbane Potion, you have to stir three times counterclockwise, say this incantation, and then stir four times clockwise, all while making sure I’m continuously pouring in Dragon’s Blood?” Your head hurts just from reading it from the book. 
Wanda snorts. “Agatha doesn’t expect it to be perfect.”
You give her a look. You both know that’s a lie. Agatha is the teacher that makes you redo written homework assignments if you leave too much space between the words. 
The Academy of Dark Arts was a home for witches like you and Wanda: witches that did not have a coven, or even a family. The Academy was supposed to teach girls to harness and understand their powers. 
You have been here the longest, ever since you were twelve. You are almost twenty now. You had always put off taking Potions until you could no longer avoid it, mainly just because of how hard everyone else said it was. You had briefly interacted with Professor Harkness before the class, passing her in the corridors or making eye contact at meals. 
And maybe, just maybe, you had developed a bit of a crush on her once you were in her class. 
Who could blame you, though? She was the definition of perfection, with the way power just exuded from her, and the way her long, dark hair tumbled down to her lower back, and her piercing blue eyes that you suspected could see right into your soul. 
But your little infatuation was not what you needed right now – no, right now, you need to study. 
“I just don’t know anything,” you groan, dropping your head into your hands. “I can’t even read my notes.” Agatha often went so fast in class that you had no other option than to just scribble down everything you thought she said as quickly as you could. 
And now you just had pages of illegible chicken scratch. 
“She’s probably still in the green house, why not just go ask her for help,” Wanda says noncommittally, too engrossed in sketching a picture. How she is so calm with this test hanging over the both of you, you have no idea. 
But you nod. That’s a good idea. You can go see Agatha, ask her to clarify a few things, and then stay up all night cramming ingredients and directions into your brain. 
“I’ll be right back,” you promise, and then scoop up your book and your notes. 
You pass by some younger witches in the hallway and you give them a tight-lipped smile. Wanda was really your only friend at the Academy, the other girls too boy-crazy or too self-absorbed for you to really connect with them. 
Other than those girls, though, the Academy is quiet. No sign of any of your other teachers, and you’re sure they’re either in their private quarters or still grading papers in their classrooms. 
You have to leave the main house of the Academy to get to the greenhouse, where Potions takes place. The cold November air stings your cheeks and makes your eyes water, but luckily, it’s a short walk. 
“Hello, Professor Harkness?” you say timidly, knocking on the door as you push it open. She’s sitting at a stool, cutting plants with a sharp knife. Her hair flowing down her back and she's wearing a tight white button-down shirt on that’s tucked into high-waisted purple pants, and a long, navy coat.
She glances up and smiles when she sees it’s you. “Y/n, what can I do for you?” 
“Oh, I just wanted to come see if you could help me clear some things up for the test tomorrow,” you say, a little flustered by how good she looks. 
“Sure thing, hon. First, I need your help. Hand me those powders from over there?” She points the knife over to the counter by the sink and you oblige, grabbing the four vials and putting them down next to her. She picks each one up and examines the label closely. “Ah, shoot. Sorry, dear, could you find the jar with the powdered root of asphodel? It should be in the pantry somewhere. I thought I took it out, but I guess I forgot.” 
“Yeah, of course.” You repeat the powder name in your head a few times so you don’t forget it and then go search for it. 
You finally spot it on the fourth shelf, sitting in the middle of some other jars, and you reach up on your tip-toes to grab it. As you’re pulling down the correct jar, you accidentally knock it into another and it falls to the floor next to you. 
“Shit!” you mutter, immediately crouching down to assess the damage. The jar of some unknown powder has broken and its contents are spilled everywhere. Without even thinking, you start to sweep the powder into your hands so you can try to put it back in the bottom half of the jar that’s still intact. 
You didn’t even notice Agatha coming over after she heard the noise. “Everything okay – don’t touch any of that!” she exclaims, seeing the bottle that broke on the floor.
You drop the mound of powder in your hands and whirl around, eyes wide open. 
“What is it?” you ask, afraid of the answer, but she doesn’t give you one, instead opting to pull you by the sleeve over to the sink. 
“Wash your hands now,” she demands and stands there watching you scrub your skin until it’s red. “How do you feel?” 
“I feel fine,” you say, but as you say that, you notice something. There’s an unmistakable heat growing in your stomach. And it only gets worse when Agatha places a hand against your forehead. You lean into the touch and have to forcibly bite your tongue so you don’t moan. 
She looks you up and down and you can feel yourself getting hotter. You’re sure your cheeks are flushed. 
You’ve never felt this way before. 
“Um, just out of curiosity, what was that powder?” you ask, wetness pooling between your thighs. The ache between your legs is becoming hard to ignore. 
Agatha meets your eyes. “It’s called sex pollen.” Your heart skips a beat. “I honestly forgot it was back there. I came across some a few decades ago and wanted to study it.”
You swallow hard. “So if someone gets some of it in their system, do they just need to touch…” You feel yourself blushing, not quite believing you’re asking Agatha Harkness if masturbation is the key to get this heat inside you to die down. 
She smirks. “You can’t get it out of your system by yourself.”
Well, fuck. “There’s no other way?” 
“Where would the fun in that be?” She winks playfully, and you wonder if she’s ever used it, or used it on someone else. “But you said you feel fine so you shouldn’t have to worry about it.”
“Right,” you reply shakily. Her fingers brush a strand of hair out of her face and you literally clench at the sight of them. You feel so empty, so needy, so desperate for her. 
“You said you had some questions for the test tomorrow?” She takes the root of asphodel that you had forgotten you were holding and beckons you back over to where she’s working. She pats the stool next to you and you sit, the pressure on your clit making you jump. 
You just have to make it through this, go back to your room, and then drag Wanda out with you to a club or something so you can get fucked. 
The only problem is, you’re not sure you can wait that long. Your hips have started squirming on the stool beneath you and you can’t control it. 
“Um, so,” you start, opening up the textbook to the Wolfsbane Potion you were studying earlier. “The directions for this potion are–”
You’re cut off by her putting her hand on top of yours and you literally whimper at the contact. You stiffen and see her turn her full body towards you, taking in the slight sheen of sweat on your forehead, your darkened eyes, the way your hips are moving on the seat. 
“Oh, you poor baby,” she taunts. 
You give up the pretense of being unaffected by the pollen. “Professor, I’m so…I need…please…I think the pollen...” 
She laughs. “Yes, dear, I think the pollen got into your system. Do you have anyone who can take care of you?” 
You blush at the implication of Agatha asking if you have a fuck buddy and then shake your head pathetically. “I was gonna go out with Wanda and try to find someone,” you mumble. “I’ve never…” You trail off, not wanting your incredibly hot professor to hear you say out loud that you’re a virgin. 
“Honey, you can’t have your first time with a random person from a bar,” she tuts. “Plus, sex pollen amplifies feelings you already have. Getting fucked by a random person won’t help as much as by a person you already want.”
“I don’t know what else to do,” you whine. “Can you…will you…please?” You can tell the pollen is affecting your ability to think straight because there is no way you just asked your centuries-old professor to fuck you. You’re about ready to run out of the room and die of embarrassment when she grins. 
“You want me to help you?” 
Your breath catches. “Professor, please, please, I need it. I need you. I just feel so…hot.” 
“I’ll say,” she says appreciatively, this time letting her eyes wander over you slowly. “Are you sure? I don’t want you regretting this when the pollen wears off.” 
You shake your head. “I won’t. I’m sure. I want you so bad. I have for a while. And you said it has to be someone you already want.” 
Her eyes darken. “Get on the table.” 
You’ve never moved so fast in your life. She takes your shirt off and throws it somewhere else in the room, and then her hands are cupping your breasts and her mouth is on yours. 
You moan hungrily into her hot mouth, feeling her tongue against yours. Your hands tangle in her hair, pulling it gently, and she groans into your mouth. Agatha quickly undoes the clasp of your bra and finds your nipples, tugging at them. She kisses down your neck and your fingers leave her hair to hike up your skirt. 
“So eager for me,” she whispers against your clavicle. You gasp when she bites down. 
“Please, professor, touch me.” 
“I am touching you,” she teases, fingertips lightly skimming down your stomach. You tense at the touch as she gets lower. 
Your moan is downright pornographic when she first slides her hand into your underwear, sliding through your folds. She makes a sound as well. 
“Fuck, baby, you’re soaked,” she says. 
“All for you,” you say weakly, hips grinding up and down against her fingers. She’s yet to touch your clit, but you fear the second she does, you’ll cum. 
“My dirty girl.” Agatha finally pushes her middle finger into you and you clench down immediately, needing more. She easily finds the spot that makes you squeal, and her thumb brushes against your clit. “Do you think you can take another finger?” 
“Oh my god, yes,” you enthusiastically agree and she slides in her ring finger as well. It’s a bit of a stretch but you’ve never felt better. 
“Your cunt feels so good around me,” Agatha says, grabbing your chin with her other hand so you meet her eyes. “So wet, so warm. I want to stay here forever. You can’t get enough of my fingers, can you?” 
“No, Professor, I love your fingers,” you babble, right on the edge. She knows it too. 
“Be a good girl and come for mommy,” she whispers right into your ear, her hot breath warm, and the name, coupled with the way she twists her fingers and roughly strokes your clit, sends you climaxing. 
“Fuckkkk,” you moan, your nails digging into her shoulders. She fucks you through the aftershocks of your orgasm and then slowly pulls her fingers, which are drenched, out of you. You can’t help but feel empty and the heat inside you isn’t completely gone. 
Before you can say anything, she slides her wet fingers into your mouth and you lazily lap at your juices. She bites her lip at the feeling. 
“How are you feeling now, baby girl?” 
Her fingers leave your mouth with a pop. “Better but I still think I need more.” 
Her eyebrow raises playfully. “My fingers weren’t enough to quell your thirst?” 
You shake your head, feeling a little embarrassed. 
“I think I know something that might help.” She waves her hand and a poof of purple smoke appears. You’re not quite sure what she did, but she gives you a wicked grin and unzips her pants, pulling out a purple strap-on. 
Your mouth falls open. 
She grabs a hold of the base and starts to stroke herself, groaning. 
“Wait, can you-” 
She looks up at you. “Feel it?” She nods. “I wanna feel you clench around my cock. Wanna fill you up.” 
You let out a small gasp. “Mommy, please, I need your cock.” 
She steps back over to you and runs a hand up your slit, collecting your wetness, which she then rubs on her cock. “You’re plenty wet already, but why don’t you get on your knees and show me how much of a good girl you can be.” 
She doesn’t have to tell you twice. You practically fall to the ground in front of her, ignoring the sharp pain in your knees. You look up at her, awaiting instruction, and she bites her lip softly at the sight of you. 
She puts a hand on your head and pushes you closer. “Put a hand around the base and then run your tongue up and down the length.” 
You do as you’re told and you delight in the loud moan that tears from her mouth. Her hand just rests on your head as you then experimentally suck the tip of her cock between your lips. 
“Good girl,” she says gruffly, and her praise drives you to test the waters and go down further. You bob your head on her dick, never breaking eye contact. “Fuck, baby, your mouth is so hot.” 
Meanwhile, the need inside you is growing so much you can barely fight the urge to slip a hand up your skirt. But you don’t. You figure Agatha won’t like that, and also, you want to focus all your attention on making her feel good. 
“Such a dirty slut on her knees for mommy. So desperate for this cock,” she says and you groan around the strap-on, making her hands tighten in your hair. She pulls you back and a string of saliva connects your lips to her. “Get up.” 
Once you’re standing in front of her, she flips you around and bends your front over the table so she’s standing behind you. She pushes your skirt up and traces your pussy with her cock, sliding it up your slit to your clit and then back. You’re grinding against her, trying to get some stimulation. 
“Are you ready?” Agatha asks. 
“Yes,” you answer, voice hoarse with anticipation. You feel her line the tip up with your hole and then slowly start to push in. 
Both of you moan. She is so big but the stretch is exactly what you need. Once she bottoms out, she holds still for a second, letting you adjust to her size. 
“You take my cock so well.” And then she’s pulling out and thrusting back in, picking up speed and intensity. You lift a leg up so she’s able to get deeper and you can feel her hips stutter. “You pretend to be so innocent but look at how desperate you are for me. Just a little slut, needing me to fill her up.” 
“Yes, just a slut for you, mommy.” 
Her nails dig into your hip and her other hand comes down to rub your clit. You clench around her. 
“You’re so tight, so hot, you feel so good squeezing my dick,” Agatha murmurs, saying the filthiest things right into your ear. You’re so close and it’s only been a few minutes of her pounding into you. 
“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper. Her hand leaves your clit and you gasp. 
“Not yet, baby, wait for mommy. Do you want me to fill you up?” 
“Want you to fill me up, mommy, wanna feel you dripping out of me,” you babble. 
“Oh shit, baby, gonna cum in you. Cum for me,” she says, and you do. This orgasm is even more intense than the one before and you feel her give you one last hard thrust before warmth spreads through your cunt. She stills for just a second and then gingerly pulls out. You can feel her cum dripping out of your hole and down your leg and it almost makes you cum again. 
Agatha turns you around and spreads your legs so she can watch it better. She takes two fingers and lazily smears her cum mixed with yours all over your pussy lips. She raises her fingers to your lips and you eagerly taste both of your juices, moaning around them. 
“Do you feel better now?” she asks, a playful glint in her eyes. 
You sigh dramatically. “For now. But who’s to say I won’t get into more sex pollen some other time?”
She chuckles and matches your smirk with one of her own. “Well, I guess I better keep a careful eye on you then.” 
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streetlamp-amber · 3 months ago
Text
first kicks
batfamily x batmom!reader
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word count: 1.9k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!
CW: family fluff, pregnancy NOTES: i wanted to write more batfam fluff this time with jason included. very sorry if jason is ooc, most of my knowledge of him comes from fics lol
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Rainy Sunday afternoons at Wayne Manor were usually spent with you and your sons in the living room, occupying the big U-shaped sectional sofa. Sometimes Bruce would join you three, resting his feet on the coffee table as he worked on his laptop. Today was one of those days.
You were helping Dick do some research on the internet for a science school project that was due next week while Jason laid on his stomach on the other side of the couch, reading a Where’s Waldo? book by himself. Your husband sat in the other corner of the couch, doing some research on the latest villain terrorising Gotham. You didn’t mind if the work he was doing was for Batman, as long as he spent some time with the family outside of the cave, you were satisfied. Especially since the Wayne clan was about to expand in a little more than four months. Plus, with your belly growing bigger as the weeks went by, it was becoming harder for you to do some tasks around the house. Tasks that you didn’t want to ask Alfred for help with since it was your husband’s job to be at your beck and call through the pregnancy. Bruce obviously didn’t mind and loved helping you, he just sometimes tended to get lost in his Batman work for long periods of time.
The television was playing in the background, a football game between two teams that you didn’t really care about was taking place but you didn’t mind. You couldn’t work well without some sort of background noise and this was doing the job.
”So Dick, have you chosen which natural disaster to base your research project on?” Bruce asked your eldest while closing his laptop and joining him on his other side, making the twelve year old squished between his parents.
”We’ve narrowed it down to three: the 2011 Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami, the 1906 San Francisco earthquake and Hurricane Katrina,” Dick answered, clicking on different tabs of each of the natural disasters as he named them. “I want to do my research on a popular one so I can easily find all the information I need.”
”Smart, isn’t he?” You smirked at Bruce as you mindlessly threaded your fingers in Dick’s dark hair who continued scrolling on the internet.
“Never thought otherwise,” your husband said, mirroring your grin. “Jay, have you found all the Waldos yet?” He leaned forward to ask Jason.
“I’m almost done,” the six year old easily dismissed Bruce, not even bothering to tear his eyes away from the pages.
“It’s best not to bother him when he’s searching for Waldo,” you informed your husband in a low volume.
Bruce nodded his head in understanding and redirected his attention back on Dick. “So, how are you gonna make your choice, chum? You could write them down on three pieces of paper and do a draw,” he suggested, leaning his arm on the back of the couch behind Dick, his fingers playing with the neck of your tshirt.
“Dad, I don’t need to write it down on some paper,” Dick sighed, a little annoyed. “You can do that on the internet now.”
“You can?” Bruce asked, surprised. Your husband was really tech savvy when it came down to work related to Batman, but silly, random stuff like a drawing roulette was not part of his internet knowledge.
You leaned your head on your left hand that was propped on the back of the couch and soothingly rubbed your round belly with the other. You watched with a soft smile Dick showing Bruce how to generate a random picking wheel to spin on the internet. Moments like these were the ones you cherished the most, domesticity wasn’t always the norm around here when you had two vigilantes living under your roof so you always tried to savour them whenever they happened.
The calmness in you was interrupted when you felt movement under your right hand.
“Oh my God,” you whispered, eyes round like saucers as you looked down at your bump and raised up the hem of your shirt to make sure what you felt was right.
“What?” Bruce immediately turned his attention to you. “What is it? Is something wrong? Are you alright?”
“I think the baby just kicked,”you said, raising your head to meet his eyes.
“The baby just kicked?” He repeated in disbelief.
You shook your head ‘yes’ just as you felt more movement. “The baby kicked again.”
Bruce rapidly stood up to sit by your side while Dick discarded his laptop before placing a hand on your belly and Jason left his book to climb on your husband’s lap to be closer to you. All had a hand on your stomach, staring at it expectantly, waiting for another kick.
“I don’t know if the baby’s gonna kick again,” you told them.
“Well that’s just not fair,” Jason whined.
“We just need to be patient,” Bruce said. “I’m sure the baby will do it again.”
And sure enough he was right. 
“Oh my God! I felt it! I felt the baby kick!” Dick exclaimed, though he kept the volume of his voice to a low level as if he would scare the baby away if he screamed.
“I wanna feel it too!” Jason cried.
“Here Jay, put your hand there,” you told your youngest as you gently grabbed his wrist and moved his hand to a different area of your belly, closer to Dick’s hand.
“Maybe if we keep talking, the baby will kick again,” Dick suggested.
“That’s true, babies can hear us from inside the mother’s belly,” Bruce agreed with him.
“They can?” Jason looked at you quizzically.
You chuckled at his confused face as you brushed his hair away from his forehead. “Yeah they can, it’s not completely soundproof in there,” you answered him.
“That’s why Dad is always talking to your belly?” Dick asked.
You fully laughed at this. “Yes, that’s why Dad talks to the belly. You can too if you wanna.”
“We can?” Dick perked up then leaned closer to your bump. “Hi baby, I’m Dick. Your big brother,” he said.
Jason also leaned forward. “And I’m Jason, I’m also gonna be your big brother.”
“Yeah but I’m the big big brother, I’m the oldest,” Dick argued.
“But I’m gonna be a big brother too!”
“Boys,” Bruce intervened. “No arguing around your mother. The baby will hear enough of that when it joins our lives, let it have its peace while it’s in the womb.”
A series of kicks started at that moment, making Dick and Jason gasp in surprise at the movements they felt under their hands. Bruce turned to you and the two of you shared a look full of love.
“That’s our baby,” he said to you, almost in a whisper, while Dick and Jason continued marvelling at the fact they could feel their sibling.
“That's our baby,” you repeated in confirmation. Nothing could've erased the smiles on both of your lips.
“I love you,” Bruce said against your forehead before leaving a soft kiss there and pulling away to share a short peck on the lips with you.
“Ew! Gross!” Jason interrupted your moment. Your sons weren’t the biggest fans of you and Bruce’s displays of affection for each other.
You giggled at the boys’ antics but still took a second to say “I love you” back to your husband.
“Someone should get Alfred so we can share this moment with him,” you suggested to the kids.
“Not it!”
“Not it!”
Jason and Dick quickly shouted, the former being the fastest to say it.
Dick groaned before he stood up from the couch and jogged out of the living room. The faster he would find Alfred, the faster he would be back next to you. “Alfred! The baby is kicking for the first time!” Dick called through the manor for your butler.
“He knows he doesn’t need to scream, right?” Bruce asked you. “Alfred can hear the boys break something all the way from the other side of the house.”
“Oh, let him be. He’s just very excited about the baby kicking,” you lightly reprimanded him with the corner of your mouth pulling up in a smirk.
You detached your gaze from your husband down to Jason who now had both of his small hands on your belly, his mouth in the shape of an ‘O’ and his eyes round with wonder in them.
“This is so cool,” he said, barely above a whisper.
“Looks like you’re gonna have some competition Jay, that baby sure is kicking a lot,” Bruce jokingly commented as the kicking didn’t stop.
You chuckled as you remembered all the times you’d stop by the gym room to find Jason relentlessly kicking at Bruce’s punching bag. For a six year old, he already had so much anger pent up inside his little body and it worried you sometimes. But ever since Bruce brought him back to the Manor, Jay had been getting better. The amount of vases thrown at the wall had drastically decreased since then, both to yours and Alfred’s reliefs, and he instead would run to the gym room and let out his anger on the punching bag when needed.
“I can’t wait to play fight with you,” Jason whispered loudly to your belly with a smile.
“No,” you immediately said.
“Best you stick to play fighting with Dick for a couple more years, buddy,” Bruce told your son.
Jason pouted. “But he's always pulling some acrobatic shit–”
“Language!” You scolded him.
“But Ma! Dad and Dick say it all the time!” Jason cried out defensively. “That’s not fair,” he retracted his hands from your belly to cross his arms over his chest.
“Well Dad and Dick, and you too apparently, will not be saying words like that around the baby,” you warned. “Capiche?”
“Capiche,” Jason mumbled.
“Capiche?” You repeated, now glaring at your husband.
“Hey, I’ve really been refraining on the bad words ever since Dick joined us,” Bruce argued but you raised your eyebrows in a way that said this wasn’t what you wanted to hear. “Capiche,” Bruce sighed out, knowing he wasn't going to win this fight.
“Master Dick, slow down a little. There’s no need for running,” you heard Alfred’s voice approaching down the hall.
“But Alfred, the baby is kicking!” Dick reiterated.
Your oldest ran in the living room, his hand firmly holding Alfred’s who tried to keep up behind him.
“I heard you the first ten times, Master Dick, the baby will still be there no matter how fast we get there,” Alfred argued.
“Yeah but it might stop kicking,” Dick said and the two sat on the couch to your unoccupied left.
“Don’t worry chum, the baby’s still kicking,” Bruce told him while looking fondly at your belly.
“Please Alfred, feel the baby,” you said to your butler with an inviting smile, grabbing his hand that rested on his knee and gently squeezing it. “We want you to be part of this moment too.”
Alfred’s hand joined the others on your bump and the old man smiled at you and Bruce as he felt the tiny bumps moving around under your skin. “This is sensational.”
“Isn’t it?” You smiled back at him, content to have everyone you wanted to share your baby’s first kicks with.
Your little family of five (soon-to-be six) remained on the couch until the baby grew tired and stopped kicking, much to Dick and Jason’s dismay. Alfred went back to his tasks, the boys to their laptop and book, and Bruce wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you cuddled next to him, watching over your children and just enjoying the normalcy of this Sunday afternoon.
Domesticity used to be rare at the Wayne Manor, but not anymore. And you, for one, were very happy about it.
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goldenstring6123 · 3 months ago
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HIIIYAAAYAYA I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH AND I LOOK FORWARD TO EVERY SINGLE PIECE YOU RELEASE!!! YOU HAVE ME CHECKING YOUR PAGE 24/7 IM OBSESSEDDD 🫦🫦 ANYWHO ignore my fawning but how do you think the lads boys would react to a suuuuper clingy gf??? idk but if i were mc i would NOT be leaving their side and would literally be glued onto their body like mc is a strong soldier for resisting (especially rafayel my HUSBAND 😩) literally wanna just curl up in their lap and carve myself into their ribcage so they can never escape from me tehe. ALSOOO U DON’T GOTTA RESPOND IF UR BUSY OR UNCOMFY!!!! JUST KNOW I LOVE YOU AND YOUR DELICIOUS WRITING 🫶🫶
Lnds: Sticky little lover
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Warning: vaguely suggestive, mentions of hickeys, fem!reader, clingy!reader, reader may or may not be the mc, there might be spelling mistakes, I haven't proofread yet.
Author's note: Awieee thank u sm pookie! I understand the feeling of wanting to latch onto the LIs~
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Zayne:
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Zayne wakes up with you on his chest, your leg over his crotch, and your arm across his stomach. To him, you were like a weighted stuffed toy and a weighted blanket, all at the same time. He wasn't complaining; maybe it was an excuse to stay in bed for another half an hour.
The bathroom is big enough for the two of you, with two wash basins, a separate shower, and a bathtub. There are three bathrooms in the house, but you always choose the one he uses. He's complained once, but you said you didn't like the interior design of the others. Side by side, you brush your teeth and comb your hair while he shaves and flosses. If you wake up earlier than usual, maybe he'll let you moisturize and exfoliate his face. It's no surprise Zayne leaves the bathroom door open for you. It's just normal for both of you to cross paths in the large bathroom.
When he leaves for work, you never miss a day to kiss his nose and give him a quick peck. You embrace him with two arms, but he hugs you back with one, the other hand holding his bag. You don't mind.
Your message gallery is filled with pictures of your mundane life: a snapshot of a book you're reading, the new coffee you tried, the little teacup Maltese that reminded you of him. Even though he's busy, he always finds time to react, and if he doesn't, he brings up the picture when you pick him up at the end of the day. He never forgets.
Calm days are spent in each other's presence. You always cling to him in one way or another. While he's reading a book, your feet are on his lap, and his fingers unknowingly knead your ankles. While watching a movie, your shoulders touch, and your hands are intertwined. When you react to the film, his hand, still holding yours, follows your movements.
Dates are always fun. It doesn't matter where you go or what you do as long as Zayne's in your company. Cafe dates are cute, but Zayne always calls you out for staring at him with a weird look in your eyes—you were admiring him. Whenever you walk, you cling to him, wrapping yourself around his forearm while playfully weighing him down. He stumbles for a second but smiles.
You love leaving hickeys on him, even bite marks if he allows, but the rule is never above the collar of his shirt. You oblige 97% of the time. The other 3%, you sneak in a light hickey that passes off as a mosquito bite, just peeking through the collar of his dress shirt. Sometimes, there's one behind his ear, barely visible. He never knows, but the doctors and patients at the hospital do.
When you're apart, you always call him and go about your day. At night, you video call and try to stay awake, only to snooze off. Zayne chuckles at your attempts to wash the tiredness away, but sometimes, he falls asleep with you. In the morning, both of your phones end up overheating and out of battery.
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Zayne loves your company, to others it may seem trouble some but with you, it was adorable. It's through your clingyness that he experiences feelings he never once did before, and those little things always brighten his day. You actions with him makes him feel more loved and he knows he has a hard time expressing them but with you around, it had become more and more easier.
Rafayel:
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They say opposites attract, but you and Rafayel are the universal exception.
Rafayel doesn't like it when you're late. Even for a home-date, he fusses about being left alone too long and feeling abandoned. You laugh at his whining over text and enter his door. When he sees you, he jumps off the couch and pouts, "Finally, it took you long enough."
You're like magnets to each other. Wherever one goes, the other follows. If you're cooking ramen in the kitchen, Rafayel sneaks behind you, hugging your back and sniffing your hair. If he's watering flowers in the greenhouse, you sit nearby and watch a ladybug on a leaf. If he's painting, you're reading on a nearby couch. Rafayel's residence is too big for one person but just enough for two.
Rafayel whines when you do something without him, especially if it's something he wants to do. You once took a flower arrangement class without him, and he sulked, "Wow, you didn't even think to tell me? I wanted to do that with you." Even watching movies is hard because you need to pause and wait for him whenever he leaves the room. One time, you finished a mystery series without him, and he ate the tiramisu you were saving for dessert in revenge.
Matching clothes is a thing. He avoids tacky prints but opts for complementary outfits. Because of this, Rafayel buys clothes with you in mind, often choosing items with a feminine counterpart. His shoe closet and yours are practically the same, and you don't complain because Rafayel has good fashion taste.
You love cute matching items. You once bought a two-piece mug set with a heart design, and he took the other one without you knowing. He also took a keychain from your collection, matching the one you have in your wallet.
"Are you tired of me now?" he asks when you keep your distance, avoiding a hug. It's the middle of summer, and the AC is broken. You reek of sweat, and the last thing you want is to be touched. You sigh and pat his back, "After I take a bath, I'll give you all the hugs you want."
He asks about your plans every morning, almost as a ritual. You've gotten used to replying while getting ready. If both schedules permit, he joins you for grocery runs, laundry, or whatever mundane tasks you have. You make good use of him, letting him carry the bags even if you could do it yourself.
When Rafayel is at an exhibit, you bombard him with texts: jokes, articles, or random thoughts. He replies quickly, hiding from the audience, bored out of his mind. In return, he sends you pictures of his artwork, which you threaten to sell online as digital files. He blocks you for a good five minutes.
You're each other's wallpaper. Surprisingly, Rafayel asked to do it. You spent hours finding the perfect pose and recreating trending ones. Rafayel insisted on multiple retakes.
You were rafayel's missing piece. To him, you were the only thing that he has ever wanted in his life. He loved you dearly and a part of him was terrified that you don't reciprocate the same level of love as he does to you; but lo and behold, fate has given him a blessing after all those years of loneliness. His heart swoons at the very sight of your actions. You were clingy, that was factually true but the same goes for him. Nothing makes him more fulfilled than seeing you both think and love in the same wavelength.
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Sylus:
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His base has become your home. On days off, you often find yourself in one of three rooms: his bedroom, where you lie on his bed, tapping away on your phone or laptop; his kitchen, where the chef cooks whatever you want in exchange for listening to his stories from his little village; or the lobby, where Luke and Kieran update you on the most boring things in the building. Sylus doesn't mind at all; it's less work for Mephisto, and he can keep an eye on you.
Sylus's sleep schedule is the same as that of those in Linkon City. His days begin in the evenings, often leaving you lying in the big bed alone. Sylus is nearby or at his desk if he's not out on the streets. You like hugging his pillow because it smells like his 3-in-1 shampoo. If he's out on late-night trips, you selfishly steal his shirt from the closet, wear it on the pillow, and hug that to sleep, forcing yourself to be satisfied with what you got.
His lap is your chair. It doesn't matter where he's sitting; you always find yourself on him. Sylus sometimes complains about his thighs going numb, but when you leave, he yanks you back, positioning you between his legs, with your butt on the chair instead of his thigh. He goes back to his work as if nothing happened, occasionally sparing you a kiss on the forehead or rubbing his face against yours. If not, you shower his chest and neck with light pecks before snuggling into the crook of his neck.
His biceps are nice to the touch. On dates to the city, while waiting in line, you squeeze his muscles for entertainment, even through his thick leather jacket. He flexes for a minute before relaxing, amused at how easily you entertain yourself.
The boyfriend shirt phenomenon is common. You don't leave the base wearing his clothes, but you certainly walk around the area in them. Whether a turtleneck, a black blouse, or just a plain shirt, you're always wearing his clothes, even in his company.
You're an eccentric one, thats for sure. Sylus never truly got ahold of how you managed to change from being so distant to practically being glued to him. It was like he partnered up with a whole new different person. He wasn't complaining at all if anything, he found it admirable and a part of him was quietly relieved that time did all the adjusting between you and him. Despite being a bit too fussy at times, he'd be more than willing to compromise if that's what makes you happy.
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Xavier:
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You always steal his hoodies. They're big, soft, and smell like him, so you have two or three at home. Xavier scratches his head when he notices bare hangers in his closet. When you visit, he finally sees what's missing. No matter how many hoodies and jackets he buys for you, you always get your hands on his, almost becoming a problem. Now, he rotates his jackets, giving them to you on schedule.
Xavier's hair is too soft to be human. When he's on your lap, you massage his scalp and fidget with the ends of his silver hair. If you have hair elastics and a cute clip nearby, he ends up with his hair tied up or braided. He needs your help to take it off because it's too painful for him to do alone. Oops?
You prefer sitting beside him rather than across from him at a table. He didn't understand at first because he wanted to face you when eating. But when he's beside you, he slowly gets it. You like touching him one way or another. You enjoy your elbows touching or your thighs grazing each other. It's also convenient to lean slightly and rest your head on his shoulder.
Xavier loves bathing with you. The bathtub in his apartment is big enough for both. He likes the smell of your bath bombs and is sometimes fascinated by the toys or mini jewelry inside. Your back always presses against him, and he willingly holds you. On more stressful days, you light candles and open some cheap wine to enjoy in rose-covered water.
He's riddled with bite marks, even when not having sex. He's dozing off when you suddenly find his arm or leg appetizing. He jolts awake and tries to shake your grip, but it's too tight. When you've had enough, he stares at your work of art and wipes his saliva-coated limb. You grin, watching him wipe your fluids. Because of the frequency, he rarely lets his consciousness drift away when his bare arms and legs are around you.
When bathing alone, you use his shampoo instead of yours. It's surprising he doesn't use all-in-one shampoo and body wash; he uses baby shampoo. When confronted, he shrugs, saying it does the job, and recalls you like playing with his hair. His perfume and powder are also for babies.
In the eyes of Xavier, you were adorable even if your actions were questionable. You were cute, and he never once thought that your actions were a burden or suffocating. The things you do, the way you speak they were all precious in his eyes and Xavier understands that this was you way of showing your love for him. Because of that, he tolerates you every time you bite him.
Your gallery is full of his pictures. Candid photos you secretly take daily. Your favorite is when his cheeks are full of food, resembling a hamster. You take pictures when he's asleep, using you as a pillow. Sometimes, you're both looking at the camera, making random faces.
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Author footnotes: I'm sorry if these were pretty general. I'm not the clingy type so I don't know how these type of people act but I wrote it with the things I observed from films and tiktok lol
Layout by me, using Canva premium | Do not repost |
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elizaleclerc · 6 months ago
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intertwined, sewn together 🌊
lando norris x reader
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summary: fem reader & lando share a sweet day w friends on a yacht <3
song: not a lot, just forever by adrianne lenker
author’s note: love this sm my heart ugh!! fluff & cute summer vibes. kinda grumpy x sunshine ; allusions to a bad childhood <\3
word count: 1.8k
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You reclined on the plush deck of the yacht, basking in the warm rays of the sun as they caressed your stomach. The smell of sunscreen and tanning oil lingered in the air, leaving a sticky sheen on your skin. You relished these lazy days on the yacht, surrounded by your friends Lily and Carmen who chatted animatedly next to you.
Lost in the pages of your book, you barely registered their conversation as you lay with one elbow propped on the ground and the other hand holding the book, using it as a shield against the bright sun. However, your peaceful reading was interrupted by the rowdy boys behind you. Alex, George, Charles, and Lando were engaged in a game of cornhole, their shouts and cheers growing louder with each round. Their competitive banter blended with the sound of the cornhole sacks hitting the wooden board, making it difficult for you to concentrate on your book.
With a deep sigh of frustration, you carefully placed the book down and turned to your friend Lily, who was sitting next to you on the deck of the yacht. The sound of raucous laughter and shouting from the boys had grown increasingly louder, making it difficult for anyone else to carry on a conversation.
"Could they be any louder?" Carmen asked, her voice barely audible over the noise.
You nodded in agreement, “I know right, it’s like they are the only ones on the damn yacht.” You turned over, and, now laying on your stomach, you propped yourself up on your elbows and watched the boys play.
Your eyes were immediately drawn to Lando, his intense focus on the game evident in the way his brow furrowed and his arms swung the sandbag with ease. You couldn't help but admire how effortlessly he moved, his muscles flexing with each throw. His fingers ran through his messy summer curls, adding to his charming and carefree appearance. He was perfect in every way, and just knowing he was yours made your heart soar with happiness.
Lily and Carmen resumed their conversation, still reclining on their backs. You found yourself growing quiet, a natural state for you. Your introverted nature preferred observing to actively participating in conversations.
As a child, this led to struggles in making friends. Some labeled you as mean, but the truth was that you simply had little patience for most individuals. Your shyness was often viewed as a weakness and your silence as threatening, but slowly you emerged from your shell. Childhood experiences had left you with deep scars, ones that most people could never imagine. For a long time, you kept these memories buried deep within, trying to forget they were real. But then Lando came into your life, and he helped unravel all the pieces of you that had been hidden away. He didn't run away or judge you; instead, he loved every part of you as if you were made just for him. And because of him, you met others who saw and appreciated the real you as well.
That’s why you loved these people on the yacht. Not just Lando, who you’ve been dating for three years now, but even his friends and their girlfriends. They were lively at times, but they could be calm and relaxing too, having real and deep conversations. When you started dating Lando, they welcomed you with open arms, and the group quickly felt like a newfound family, one that you desperately needed. 
Lando was sunshine personified. His deep, rich laugh was infectious, bringing out the same pure happiness in everyone around him, including you. You couldn't help but notice how his eyes would crinkle at the corners when he laughed so hard that tears formed in his eyes. And with his perfectly tanned skin and light brown hair, he looked as if he had been sent down from the Sun itself just for you to love and for him to love you back even more fiercely. His genuine empathy and understanding towards your struggles made it feel like he could see right into your soul, and his persistent effort to get to know you only further solidified your growing feelings for him.
The two of you truly seemed like opposites, but everyone around you saw how much love was between you and Lando. As you watched him play cornhole, a small smile spread on your lips. It was inevitable, Lando seemed to just have that effect on you. 
“Lando, looks like you’ve got an admirer,” Charles shouted to him as he must have caught you staring. Your face flushed, even more so with the sun beating down. Lando caught your eye, shooting you a wink. 
“Good, I’m on fire! Best game I’ve played yet.” Lando proudly proclaimed, which made you grin even more. 
Carmen turned on her stomach now to watch along with you. “George, baby, how are you doing?” She asked him. 
Lando was the one to respond though, “Oh, he’s playing like shit. You better take his place.” Everyone bursted out into laughs, everyone except George, who always got slightly offended at jokes made at his expense. 
“Yeah yeah, whatever.” George sighed with a wave of his hand. “Let’s play another game, I’ll beat you this time.” 
“That’s what you said five games ago,” Alex laughed, which caused the guys to break into another fit of chuckles.
You were enjoying watching them play, but as the sun beat down on your skin and sweat began to form on your brow, you knew it was time to take a break. Walking over to the cooler, you grabbed a cold bottle of water and some freshly cut strawberries. The icy liquid provided instant relief as it cascaded down your throat, while the juicy sweetness of the strawberries left a refreshing aftertaste. 
Feeling rejuvenated, you made your way to the edge of the yacht and settled into the welcoming shade. As you gazed out at the vast expanse of ocean before you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of tranquility wash over you. The rhythmic lapping of waves against the boat and the gentle breeze caressing your skin were soothing in a way that only being on the ocean could provide.
Lost in your thoughts, you reached for your book and lost yourself in its pages. The sound of laughter and splashing from your friends faded into the background as you immersed yourself in the fictional world within. Time seemed to pass quickly as you turned one page after another, until you noticed the sky beginning to change color. A soft orange glow now painted the horizon, signaling that sunset was near.
You moved from your spot on the yacht and went back out to see what everyone else was doing. Lando was laying out on a large sunbed, clearly exhausted from his hours of playing cornhole. As you looked around, all of the boys were laying out too. You couldn’t find Carmen or Lily, but you assumed they were still trying to soak up the last bit of sun they could for the day. 
“There’s my pretty girl,” Lando smiled as you approached him. You stood beside his sunbed as he kissed the top of your hand. “Where did you run off to?” 
“I went to read for a bit. It was kinda distracting earlier when you and the guys were playing.” You explained. He motioned for you to cuddle up next to him on the bed. As you tucked yourself by his side, he smirked. 
“Distracting because I was so good looking?” He bantered and you rolled your eyes. 
“No, because you guys were being so loud.” You joked and he faked a frown. You smiled, “But you’re also very good looking.” 
He tilted your chin up so he could kiss you softly, taking in every bit of you and the strawberry taste still on your lips. As you laid your head back on his chest, he ran his fingers through your hair, playing with it lazily. “I love you a lot you know”
You traced your fingers along his torso and grinned to yourself, “Yeah, I know.”
“Good. Just making sure you don’t forget it.” He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his warm breath mingling with the soft breeze. As the sun began its descent towards the horizon, you both sat on the sunbed, watching the stunning display of colors in the sky. The vibrant oranges and deep blues blended together like a masterpiece, filling you with a sense of awe and wonder. Despite all the pain and suffering in the world, moments like this reminded you of the beauty and magic that still existed. You could feel the warmth of the cooling sun on your skin, leaving a subtle tan as it slowly made its way towards the horizon. The peacefulness of the moment was enough to lull you into a blissful sleep.
~
Charles propped himself up on his cushioned chair, and saw you asleep on Lando’s chest. “She knocked out, huh?” He smiled at Lando.
“Yeah, guess so. The sun makes her tired sometimes.” Lando replied in a low voice to try and not to wake you up. 
“You know, I never heard her say she loved you back earlier.” George remarked from the other side of Lando. 
“She doesn’t have to, I know she does.” Lando replied, which confused the guys. He saw their perplexed expressions. “You know it took her a long time to say it in the first place but…I’ve known her long enough to where I know it without her having to say it.” 
“I still don’t understand.” Alex piped up next to George. 
“I mean, cmon, what’s so hard to understand? You saw the way she watched me earlier. Her eyes said it all. And the other day when she peeled oranges for me without me asking? And yesterday, when we got home, she rambled to me about the book she was reading. You could just see the light and love in her eyes. She never used to be that way, not when I first met her.” Lando knew the other guys still might not get the full picture, but he remembered how you were before you guys started dating. He remembered how you would shut out the world and not let anyone in. He knew that you used to not express how much you liked things or even smile when you ate your favorite foods.
He knew you loved him, he knew it went without saying. You were his everything, and simply being nestled next to him, feeling the gentle rhythm of your breath against his side, was enough to make his heart swell with love. No amount of conversation could match the pure joy of watching you smile or hearing the sweet melody of your voice. The two of you were intertwined, sewn together as the perfect pair.          
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pepperyduck · 2 months ago
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growing old with kento nanami, pt. 2
word count: 3.5k
warnings: having kids, raising kids, naming kids after lost loved ones, descriptions of growing old, like actually growing old and having grandchildren, descriptions of body changes after birth, dad nanami, no angst in this one just living a happy life with husband nanami :3 (18+ mdni!)
notes: i love u all sm, i am giving this man the ending he deserves. now get ready bc i just went through a terrible breakup and must project it in my writing. much love!!!
part 1 | masterlist
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nanami watched you with loving eyes as you laid in your hospital bed, exhausted and sleeping so peacefully after the delivery of your baby. your hair stuck to your face in messy patterns from all the sweat, your chest rose and fell on the perfect, comfortable beat. this time, he was sitting in the chair next to your bed, a book open and ready to be read, but kento’s eyes refused to skim the pages – you looked so beautiful. the room was quiet, only the soft buzzing of an air conditioner and beeping from one of the monitors stuck to you would infiltrate the silence. kento paid close mind whenever you began to stir, lightly fluttering your eyes open to look at him, oh so tired.
“good morning, beautiful,” kento cooed, closing his book to rest it on his thigh. he reached out his hand to lay it atop yours, a soft smile grazing his lips when he looked at you.
“hi,” you groaned, slightly rolling over and wincing when the sharp pain began to shoot through your body. kento’s brows furrowed whenever he saw your discomfort.
“how are you feeling?” he asked.
“tired…it hurts,” you muttered, closing your eyes again. kento’s thumb lightly grazed over the back of your hand, tracing the veins.
kento made sure the nurses that came to check on you administered some pain medicine, and after a while, you began to not be in as much torment as before. you were told you could go home in a day or two, after the pain subsides and the baby is evaluated to be in good health.
kento pushed you down the hallway in a wheelchair towards the nursery, and politely asked to see your baby. you cried so many tears of joy the moment your baby boy was settled in your arms, swaddled in a hospital blanket and sleeping gently. he was so beautiful, a spitting image of his father from the word go. even though he was tiny, and his features weren’t so defined, you could already see the resemblance.
“have you decided on a name yet?” the nurse sweetly asked, clipboard in hand with all your information. you and kento swapped looks for a moment, obviously unprepared for the question. for a minute, you thought in your mind about all the names you discussed, finally landing on one that would be thoughtful and fitting.
“what about ‘yū’ kento?” you suggested, looking up at your husband for his approval.
the gesture of naming his son after his passed best friend made kento a little sad, but he knew haibara would be proud and so happy, so he nodded his head in agreement.
“yes, yū. that’s perfect.”
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taking care of such a tiny human came so naturally to kento. he was easily able to balance work on top of making sure the baby was okay. for the first few months, it seemed as if yū would always cry when he was with you, until kento finally would pick him up and settle the baby in his arms. kento had taken an adequate amount of time off from work, working only 3-4 days a week, he made sure you had enough time to rest in between taking care of the baby for days at a time.
after a while, yū began to calm down, reverting into a happy, smiley, giggly baby. you felt more comfortable taking care of him on your own without kento there. so, in return, kento began working even more, picking up his normal 40-hour work week. since you had moved cities, you hadn’t found a stable job yet, but that was okay. because kento wanted to take care of you. he wanted to be the one to take care of his family.
so, you let him. he provided as much as possible for you and your child, all the while ensuring he wasn’t overworking himself in the process. he wanted to live a happy life, after all, he was never going to revert back to the ways of his 24-year-old self; working impossible hours and remaining exhausted 24/7.
since yū had began to grow older, hitting the year-old mark in the blink of an eye, you came to realize that you only took care of him. not that you minded, of course, you loved your baby. but you were less active, and it showed on your body. more and more, you looked in the mirror to find the pregnancy weight still latched on to you, the body you once had just didn’t seem to be there. you knew your husband should be the one to talk about insecurities, sure, but with all the surgeries he went through, and all he did to improve his health; you thought he looked just as ravishing as the day you met him. he did look just as handsome, even with the scars covering half of his body. he was simply a beautiful man.
and you began to feel undeserving. ugly. lesser than the person you were married to. and for what? because of some baby weight? it was natural. so why did you feel so increasingly terrible about yourself as time went on? you worked out, you stayed as healthy as possible; but it was like nothing was going to let you get back to how you looked before the baby.
you were looking in the mirror in your bathroom, a huge one, just like you dreamed of. but the large size of the mirror only gave you more sight into your own reflection. a reflection that filled you with disgust. you frowned at the weird shape and size of your tummy, or at least the shape you thought was weird, and the way your face seemed chubbier, and your thighs had grown in size.
“hey, honey,” kento greeted you, walking around the frame of the bathroom door. his sights were immediately infiltrated with the picture of his gorgeous wife, with her sleep shorts tugged down below her stomach, endearing stretchmarks littering the skin that once carried his beloved son.
you tugged your shorts up quickly and replied to him, “hi, kento.” with a quick turn on your heel and a step forward, you planted a light peck on his lips. he smiled down at you, eyes glittering with the very glimpse of such a beautiful woman.
“what are you doing?” he asked, snaking an arm around your waist to pull you close. you sort of slumped your body against him, resting a head on his shoulder, and you sighed.
“do you think i look…different now?” you couldn’t stop yourself from asking the question, blurting it out as you rested against your husband. he pulled you away and rested his hands on your waist to look you in the eyes.
“what do you mean, hm?” kento’s thumbs grazed up and down your soft skin.
you looked back into the mirror, frowning once more at the silhouette your body created. with a pitiful tone, you began to speak, “my body. ever since i had yū, it’s just been…ugly. i feel ugly.” you described yourself with one of the most hurtful words and caused kento’s eyebrows to furrow as he looked at you.
ugly? how dare his own wife speak about his wife that way. because, in his eyes, you were the most breathtaking individual on the planet. in the universe, actually. sure, he had noticed the changes of your body – the changes that came from you growing a human being inside of you, single-handedly giving him the best gift he’s ever received. if anything, he loved the changes of your body, somehow your skin became even softer to him, contrasting his rough hands perfectly.
“i’m sorry,” you apologized, noticing your husband’s glare once you looked back up at him. he shook his head.
“don’t apologize, i understand.” kento comforted you, bringing a sweet hand up to your cheek to pull you in for a soft kiss. once he pulled back, he ran a thumb over your cheek, “do you want to know what i think, sweetheart?”
brows furrowing, you looked up at him with a confused expression, “think about wh-,” he cut you off with another kiss to the lips. he skimmed his lips over different parts of your face, planting light pecks over all the skin.
“i think,” kento’s lips trailed down your neck slowly, then to each off your shoulders, beginning down one of your arms. “i have,” his kisses didn’t waver as he made his way down your arm, giving a firm kiss to the back of your hand as he held it, kneeling down. “the most,” he smiled up at you before focusing on your tummy, kissing the shirt that laid atop your soft skin, trailing all over your abdomen.
“beautiful wife in the world.”
you giggled at his gesture, the laugh soon faltering because kento’s stare on you was full of complete seriousness. the things that kento thought were always fact, never fiction, you should’ve known that. so yes, what he said was true. it would always be true in his eyes, too. always.
with all the intimacy conjured in the bathroom, that was the night you got pregnant with your second child, a daughter named mayu.
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parenthood came with its own highs and lows as your children grew. your daughter loved her father til’ the earths end, always opting to stay under his arm whenever he was home. mayu had taken more of your looks this time, not quite the spitting image like yū was to your husband, but enough to tell that you were her mother. she was full of energy and happiness and took on a sassy personality from a young age. yū, however, was very emotional and laidback compared to his sister. it was quite funny how much their personalities showed, even when they were unable to talk. but as they began to grow up and adopt certain mannerisms, their personalities began to bloom even more.
as kento got older, he had gained just a tiny amount of weight, filling out his muscular form even more. his abs slowly faded with time, turning into a less-defined version of themselves. and your favorite part about kento growing older was his hair. once your children reached 3 and 5, kento had reached a good 35, turning 36 soon, little grey pieces began to pepper themselves into his hairline, shining brightly in between the blonde strands. he began to have small crow’s feet in the outsides of his eyes, and smile lines from the amount of smiling he did with you.
on yū’s first day of school, kento had to hold you as you sniffled back tears, watching your oldest boy walk through the front doors of the school. he held his arm around your shoulders and waved his son off, shushing you and saying he will only be gone until 3 p.m. little did you know, kento had to hold back his own tears, because in that moment he felt so accomplished as a father, even though that was only the beginning of yū’s journey.
not to worry, though, because on mayu’s first day – your husband cried like a baby seeing his daughter walk off into school, nervous for the first time in her life.
the first few years of your children’s school life were smooth sailing. yū and mayu alike made many friends and looked at school in a positive light. you and kento never got tired of their endless stories – about a game they played or a lesson they learned or a book they read. every little art project and 100 on a test decorated the fridge. kento made sure to teach them both about the importance of schooling and how to remain at the top of their class, along with balancing the increasing schoolwork the older they got.
it wasn’t until yū hit middle school that things began to go downhill.
neither you nor kento thought that your children would be able to see curses. only one of you was a sorcerer, and kento was the only one in his family that was able to be a sorcerer, too. but when kento took him to a bakery, yū saw the same creature as his father crawling around on the floor, eliciting an ear-shattering scream – kento felt doomed.
“what do you think we should do?” you questioned, leaning against the counter as your husband sat at the kitchen table, lips pursed beneath intertwined fingers pressed on the lower half of his face.
“i do not want him to be a sorcerer,” kento stated, a stern tone in his voice, “but he…he’s…i don’t know if we can stop it.” your husband sounded defeated at the statement.
he could only ask himself why this had to happen to him of all people; someone that had run away from jujutsu twice now. you and kento both decided to wait until your children were older to explain it all, and where all their uncles and aunts and family friends came from, but at the time, it all seemed inevitable but to give some sort of explanation.
so, of course, he called one of the people he trusted – and now respected – the most.
“nanami!” gojo squealed as soon as the front door was opened, revealing the still tall and lanky satoru. kento seemed to still be annoyed by his presence, yet inside he was thankful for his friend to show up on such short notice. gojo had been around your children some, obviously, but you and kento tried to keep your distance because of how dangerous it all was.
after giving satoru the rundown of the past days’ events, you sent mayu off to a friend’s house and sat yū in the living area with all the adults. until that point, he had no explanation as to what he saw in the bakery. but with ease, just as everything was with gojo, he gave yū the clarification needed to understand he had a special gift, and to use it wisely. kento made up his mind as to not scare your son by telling him about how he got all those scars, saving that for a later date. yū still didn’t understand everything entirely, but ended up having some sort of grasp on his abilities. that was all that was needed.
you and kento collectively decided it would be yū’s choice when he was old enough to decide to become a sorcerer, with the help of gojo, of course.
fortunately, or unfortunately, for mayu, she would end up not having the same abilities as her father. it was sort of a blessing, only having to worry about one kid being raised to fight the second they turned 14.
the years spent waiting for yū to become old enough to decide about jujutsu felt like a ticking time bomb for you and kento. many, many nights were spent in the kitchen, talking endlessly about your concerns but also the upsides to having your son learn under one of kento’s most trusted partners. but the both of you became more honest with your son about the reality of going into jujutsu, the pros and cons of becoming a sorcerer, and how it could both positively and negatively affect his life.
ultimately, though, kento was the most relieved he’d ever been when your son gave his answer about becoming a sorcerer, a few days away from the end of middle school.
“uh, no, dad. it sounds way too dangerous. i want to go to college.” yū’s words came off as that of a normal, moody teenager, but in the end made a weight lift off you and your husband’s shoulders.
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they say time flies when you’re having fun, and that was the truest of statements when it came to raising your children with kento. yū’s high school years approached quickly, mayu’s seemingly approached even faster, it was all a rush of images that remained in your head. the sports teams, never missing a thursday night game to cheer on your son from the stands, as he led his soccer team to the regional levels. the first time yū brought a girl home, with you and kento seemingly even more nervous to meet the sweet young lady that attached herself to your son’s arm. prom was so much fun, seeing your husband knot the same printed tie around his son’s neck that he wore in his sorcerer days, before taking a thousand photos of yū and his girlfriend. your son had the most elated, idiotic smile on his face once he opened the door to find his girlfriend dressed to the nines in a stunning dress, the same smile on his face when he came home after a fun night with his friends. and of course, graduation topped it all off, yū standing at the top of his class just like his father. both you and kento had to stifle back tears watching him walk across the stage.
mayu’s high school days were a flash as well, a very fond memory looking back. she remained with the same snappy and sassy personality, just as when she was little. mayu remained close with her father, but began to talk to you as she got older, needing advice for any decision she made. it made you feel like a proud mother, someone she wasn’t embarrassed of because even through her mood swings and bad days, she always found refuge in you. mayu became the student council president by her second year, running every school event like a ship, making sure to always get extra t-shirts for you and kento because you would always show up. while yū was away at college, mayu became your focus as you let your son navigate his way through life.
kento thought he was going to have a heart attack the second his beloved daughter said she had a boyfriend she wanted the both of you to meet. the night that boy rolled up in his car, knocking on the door frantically, kento put on a stern and serious face as he was the one to open the door. mayu came running up behind kento, to no avail, as her boyfriend was already bowing and then shaking your husband’s hand. he politely introduced himself, practically shaking with how intimidated he was by your husband. but the night went on smoothly, you had dinner together and found out more about mayu’s boyfriend and his aspirations. at the end of the night, after he had left and mayu went to bed, kento said he was an, “alright young man,” which was the biggest compliment if you were going to date his daughter.
mayu’s graduation was the time for kento to sob again, seeing his daughter get so much recognition for all she did for the school, feeling like the proudest dad of two children. yū had driven into town, sitting next to you and kento in the stands, a bouquet of flowers for his sister. mayu moved into her dorm only a few weeks later, leaving you and kento in an empty house, riddled with the memories of raising two beautiful, accomplished, important and thriving children.
it all went by too fast.
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after your birds had successfully left the nest, you and kento spent all your time together once again. the days would mix up as he began to work less and less to prepare for his retirement. time flew by, aging you and your husband both, the wrinkles becoming delicately pronounced each year, the grey hairs eventually taking over all the blonde in his head. you spent your time reading, baking, and most of all, traveling as soon as kento’s last day at work hit.
you flew all around the world, visiting the most gorgeous and diverse cities alike, emerging yourselves in all the different cultures, practices, and kento’s favorite part – the food. you visited malaysia with him again, just as you did on your honeymoon, the love you felt all those years ago still present within you both. you walked along the beaches and toured all the spots you favorited on your honeymoon again.
your life with kento nanami was beautiful.
you lay in bed with your husband at your side, his peaceful yet loud snores endearing as he sleeps so soundly. tomorrow, your 25th wedding anniversary will be here. you’ll walk out on the porch of the beautiful condo kento bought after retirement with a cup of coffee for him. you’ll read a book as your husband basks in the view of the beach he longed for all his life. your children and their spouses will drive in around afternoon, and spend the weekend with you both, letting you get time in with yū’s new baby, your grandchild. you will mingle, laugh, maybe cry and reminisce in all the memories you and your husband built up over the course of decades. your house will be loud with the sounds of kids and family and friends, all there to celebrate the life you’ve had with your husband.
even if kento were to die the next day, or in a year, or in 10 years, something would always remain true.
kento nanami had successfully spent his life with his true love.
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angelfic · 1 year ago
Text
— CALM AFTER THE STORM
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pairing: remus lupin x reader
summary: the 4 times you hate each other, and the one time you don’t. alternatively, remus lupin is a pain in your arse and yours alone.
warnings: enemies to lovers, swearing, kissing, mention of blood and wounds, some bad writing as always which is unedited
author’s note: just a little e2l fic for my own indulgence as its my fave trope and its criminal how i barely have any e2l fics… also haven’t written anything in ages soooo enjoy!
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when he just has to be controversial
The sun was beaming, colourful rays reflecting over your book through the stained-glass windows of the Gryffindor common room as you lounged on the sofa with your head in Lily’s lap. You were barely paying attention to the chatter of your friends around you, choosing to focus on your copy of ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ and Marlene’s soft guitar playing. The lazy afternoon is a welcome break from the increasingly stressful N.E.W.T lessons that have had you all so exhausted, you’re not sure if Peter is asleep or dead from his curled-up position on the rug.
You don’t even realise someone is saying your name until Marlene tickles the sole of your socked foot with her guitar pick, making you yelp and draw your legs in from where they were previously tucked in between Marlene and her guitar.
“What was that for?” you grumble, nudging her arm with your foot.
Marlene smirks, nodding over to James. “He told me to get your attention. Didn’t specify how.”
You roll your eyes and turn on your side to face the boy in question, his grin unfaltering as he multitasks polishing the handle of his broomstick and talking to you. “Not my fault you’re dead to the world when you’re reading,” he says, matter-of-fact, continuing when you raise your eyebrows in impatience. “I was just wondering how you could look so interested in that book. Remus said he’d do my homework for a month if I finished it the other day and I couldn’t get past five arse-numbingly dull pages.”
You scoff, adjusting your position again to face Remus as well. “And why was Remus betting you to read my book, exactly?”
“It was my copy,” Remus replies, scribbling away on his parchment, cross legged on his chair, to undoubtedly finish the Potions essay that Slughorn had set yesterday. You’re transfixed on the way his hand is moving across the page for a second, unable to fathom how someone can have such messy handwriting. You aren’t surprised in the slightest that the next words coming out of his mouth are ones you disagree with. “I wanted to see how long he lasted reading the slowest-paced book in the world.”
You abruptly sit up at this, shutting your book and forgetting plans of relaxation.
“Hey, watch it!” Lily exclaims, lifting the bottle of black polish she’s using to paint Sirius’ nails from its balanced position on her thigh to avoid you spilling it all over her white top. “If you’re about to argue, please refrain from throwing things until after I’ve done the second coat of nail polish.”
You pointedly ignore this and narrow your eyes at Remus who, infuriatingly, still hasn’t lifted his head from his essay. “I’m surprised you found it hard to read such a slow book. Thought that’d be perfect for you.”
“Look what you’ve started, Prongs,” Sirius sighs, examining his nails.
Seeing the corners of Remus’ lips pull up into a slight smile at your comment just spurs you on in defence of the book you were previously enjoying. “Besides, it’s about a real-life teenager with real-life struggles, not The Hobbit on his latest adventure.”
“Who’s Hobbit?” James mumbles, scratching his head in confusion as Marlene just shrugs, equally oblivious.
“It’s overrated,” Remus insists, finally setting down his quill to look at you. The amused expression still hasn’t left his face and you make a noise halfway between a scoff and a high-pitched squeal of indignance. “Even James agrees.”
“Oh, and James’ opinion on literature is the standard now?” You raise a brow, tutting when James starts to protest. “The only book James has finished in the last six years was Quidditch Through the Ages.”
The way James slowly slides the aforementioned book under one of the sofa cushions doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone. Sirius starts snickering, much to Lily’s annoyance as she tries to control his hand. “She got you there, in fairness, mate.”
Sirius’ chortling seems to stir Peter from his sleep and he opens one eye to peer at you. Seeming to catch sight of your irritated expression, he frowns. “Are these two arguing like an old married couple again?”
“Merlin help us if these two ever decide to get married,” Marlene utters under her breath, bent over her guitar and avoiding the weight of your glare.
“Yeah, he wishes,” you grumble, shuffling around on the sofa to get back into a comfortable position with your book. Remus’ smile has only widened in response and he seems to enjoy your discomfort as you overcompensate for showing your annoyance by wriggling about.
“I dream about it every night,” Remus replies, dryly and Peter giggles below you before turning over to sleep again.  
You overcompensate a little too much by moving around, because Lily huffs from beside you and starts scrambling around for a tissue. “What did I say about the second coat?”
“I didn’t throw anything this time!”
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2. when he won’t let you give someone a black eye
Defence Against the Dark Arts is your favourite N.E.W.T subject for a lot of reasons. You enjoy the lesson content, it’ll be useful in future years, and it’s the one lesson you share with every single one of your friends.
You’ve gotten used to James and Sirius messing around while Professor Marigold recites fact after fact about spells and creatures and wizards of dark nature. Its like soothing background noise to you and your classmates who all concentrate in silence most of the time.
Which is why your quill stops on your page and leaves a growing ink blot when you hear snickering and whispers from the other side of the classroom rather than from in front of you where the marauders sit in a line.
The scoffs of disgust coming from Snape and Mulciber are loud enough to attract the attention of the rest of the students and even the teacher, who eventually sets down her piece of chalk in the middle of talking about Wolfsbane potion with an impatient sigh.
“Is there some sort of pressing issue that can’t wait until after class to discuss, boys?” Professor Marigold asks with a tone of ire that would impress Professor McGonagall. “Even Black and Potter have decided to give it a rest today.”
She’s not wrong, you think, noting how they’ve been less disruptive than usual for this lesson, probably tired out from setting each other’s robes on fire in Charms the hour before.
“The pressing issue is werewolves,” Snape mutters quietly, as though he doesn’t want to make a big issue but can’t stop himself from speaking up. “We should be learning more about how to kill them and less about the price of potion ingredients.”
Lily gasps from beside you and Sirius and James tense up at his words. Remus doesn’t lift his head, but you absently notice how his grip tightens around his quill when Peter nervously turns to him. Peter isn’t one for conflict and he’s always been nervous around this particular group of Slytherins, so you’re not surprised he’s anxious.
“Werewolves are still people, you can’t just go around killing them!” you find your mouth moving on its own, before your brain can catch up. When Snape turns to direct his scowl at you, its matched by your own as well as Lily’s disappointed frown. “They didn’t ask to be werewolves, they physically can’t help it! How would you feel if people wanted to kill you for not being able to control being such an arse.”
“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor Marigold warns, setting her stern eyes on you. You’re not one for disrupting lessons or getting into trouble, so when Remus turns around to look at you with a raised eyebrow, your cheeks start to warm and you stubbornly don’t look his way again.
Snape ignores her to continue glaring at you. “I don’t have the capacity to kill people in a feral rage now, do I?” His gaze flits from you to Lily and Marlene and then lingers on the boys. “Of course, you’re defending werewolves. It’s no surprise considering who you choose to associate yourself with.”
“Mr Snape.”
“You have no need to fly into a feral rage to kill people,” you reply, voice steadily rising in volume. Sirius and James turn their heads back and forth like they’re watching a tennis match and you know the only reason they haven’t piped up to agree with you is because they’re too entertained watching the way you’re about to jump out of your seat to pounce on Snape. “All you need to do is show someone your face for them to die of fright–”
“ENOUGH!” Professor Marigold’s booming voice cuts through the laughter of everyone on the Gryffindor side of the classroom and when you turn to look at her, you see even Remus’ shoulders are shaking with silent laughter. You’re not sure why this pleases you, but it doesn’t last long enough for you to figure it out before Marigold waves her wand in the direction of the door and sends it flying open. “Both of you will wait for me outside the classroom until the lesson has finished so I can discuss your appalling behaviour.”
You gape at her for a second, before relenting and grabbing your bag, not wanting to argue with her authority. Your friends have different ideas.
“That’s not fair!” Marlene exclaims, standing up in protest. “She didn’t even do anything wrong.”
“Yeah,” James agrees, also standing up. “Snape’s the one who was being an annoying pri–”
“Sit down, everyone,” Marigold cuts him off, pursing her lips. “Everyone except Mr Snape and Miss Y/L/N. Do not even think about speaking Mr Black, or I won’t hesitate to suspend your and Mr Potter’s Quidditch privileges until further notice.”
Sirius shuts his mouth after a nudge from James and you shoot your friends a grateful smile before making your way out of the classroom, followed closely by Snape.
The door shuts behind him and you don’t bother sparing him a glance before dumping your bag on the ground and leaning against a wall to focus your gaze on a suit of armour for the next five minutes. You’re about half a minute in when you notice that one of the hands are slightly wonky and the classroom door suddenly opens.
Remus, of all people, enters the hallway to join the two of you and quickly shuts the door.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, furrowing your brows and getting up from against the wall.
“Yeah, what are you doing here?” Snape sneers at him, and you give him a scathing look before turning to Remus for an answer.
Remus pointedly ignores him to stand next to you against the brick wall. “I just pointed out to Professor Marigold that you both have your wands and she may not have two students left out here by the end of the lesson.”
“I can defend myself,” you snort, folding your arms. You aren’t sure if you’re annoyed that Remus is insinuating otherwise, or if you’re touched that he doesn’t want you to be hexed into oblivion by Snape. “Especially from him.”
“Oh, I know,” Remus raises both hands in surrender as his tone becomes grave. “It’s not you I’m worried about, trouble.”
“Ha ha,” you deadpan, rolling your eyes at the nickname. He started it around a year ago when you got your first ever detention for helping Sirius and James Charm the Slytherin chairs to throw them off every time someone sat. Your friends had kept quiet about your involvement, but Peeves had spotted you, the nosy bastard. The nickname stemmed from the fact it was the first time you had ever gotten into trouble and it never failed to irritate you. “You better be careful I don’t hex you.”
“I wouldn’t dream of annoying you,” he says, but the serious tone of voice is ruined by the way his lips are twitching in an attempt not to laugh at you. “After what happened when I said I didn’t like that one Jane Austen book? Forget it.”
“Hey, you insulted one of my favourite characters,” you point out, resting a hand on your hip. “What did Emma ever do to you? You had that hex coming.”
“I had pink hair for a week,” Remus narrows his eyes at you, but you can tell he isn’t really angry. Although he refuses to admit it, you know for a fact he didn’t hate the pink hair considering how good he looked with it. An annoying indiscretion on your part. Remus looks behind you for a split second before leaning in a little to whisper. “I won’t get in the way if you want to turn Snape’s hair pink, though. Preferably a very bright shade of flaming, hot pink.”
At risk of your own cheeks flaming up from how close he is – really, what’s the need? – you shake your head let your hair fall into your face. Almost having forgotten Snape is also there, you start when he scoffs (for what you think is the millionth time this afternoon) and you sigh before facing him begrudgingly. “What now?”
“Couldn’t handle the content of today’s lesson?” he asks, tiling his head. You’re about to ask him what the hell he’s talking about before you realise, he isn’t actually talking to you, but to the boy behind you.
“Uh…” you trail off, not sure how to respond. All three of you currently standing in the corridor know that Remus is smart enough to tackle any type of content, especially something as memorable and interesting as werewolves.
Remus’ amused demeanour has been wiped away and you can’t determine his exact expression, but his voice is cold when he talks to you. “Just ignore him.”
“You and your group of friends can’t help themselves when it comes to defending strays and all sorts,” Snape continues, much to your confusion. “It’s not enough that you’re a group full of blood-traitors and mudbloods…”
Remus tenses up behind you and you find yourself frozen for a second.
The next thing you know, you’re lunging at the greasy-haired Slytherin with every intention of hurting his face with your fists, wand long forgotten. Your fingers barely brush his robes, however, when you feel yourself being hauled back by strong arms that wrap around your middle.
“Let go!” you snarl, enjoying the way Snape has backed away, eyes wide and worried. “Did you hear what he said? Remus, let me go.”
He doesn’t relent, still holding onto you when he leans down to speak in your ear. “You’ve already gotten into trouble. You’ll get into a whole lot more when everyone walks out to see Snape with a black eye and you with bruised knuckles.”
“Worth it,” you grit out, still pulling away from his grip and throwing daggers with your eyes at Snape. After a few more seconds of pointless struggling, you relax very slightly just to turn in his arms so you can direct your next words to him more pointedly. “Not only is he a slimy, blood-supremacist twat, but he also wants to kill a poor bunch of werewolves. We should be throwing him into the bloody Black Lake!”
“I know, I-” Remus is cut off when the door opens and students start flooding into the corridor to provide a barrier between you and Snape, indicating the end of the lesson. Remus finally lets you go when he realises you’re in direct view of Professor Marigold who stands behind her desk, waiting for you. “I had no idea you were such an advocate for werewolves.”
It’s the last thing you expected him to say and you immediately look up at him and frown. “Again, they’re people. They don’t deserve to be victims of prejudice just as no one does.” He doesn’t respond, staring at you with an unreadable expression and a hint of a smile. Your frown deepens in confusion. Was he… laughing at you? Especially after you had just gotten along. “I’m so glad you find me amusing,” you say, scowling and storming back into the classroom and away from Remus.
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3. when he's too good for flower crowns.
“Tell it again,” James insists, grin wide as ever plastered onto his face despite the withering look you send his way. “Getting a glimpse at even the possibility of Snivellus getting pummelled by Y/N would have made my entire year.”
“The galleons I’d give up to have been there,” Sirius releases a wistful sigh, closing his eyes as he lies down, facing the sun.
You hand him the daisy chain crown you just finished and he dutifully dons it. “I’ll alert the Ministry of Magic to order in a time-turner for an issue of utmost urgency,” you say sarcastically as you start on the next daisy chain. Sirius merely winks at you.
“I think you should’ve let her have at him, Remus,” Marlene states, unapologetic. You nod vehemently in agreement, a little too enthusiastically as you end up splitting a daisy down the middle.
Lily tuts, adjusting her own flower crown as it slips against her silky red hair. “I’m glad you didn’t. Godric knows what Professor Marigold would have done,” she shudders at the thought, ever the diligent student.
“Forget Marigold,” Peter chimes in. “Imagine what Professor McGonagall would have done.”
You don’t miss how he looks over his shoulder in case your head of house is taking a stroll along the grassy grounds.
“She would have combusted when you called him an ugly arse,” Remus pipes in, unhelpfully might you add, from where he sits slightly away from the group under a tree, reading.
The comment sends Marlene, Sirius and Peter into a fit of laughter – James is too busy staring at the way the sun is making Lily look ethereal and she’s too busy pretending not to notice while being secretly pleased. Doing a quick survey of your friends, you see everyone now has a flower crown except Remus. You make your way to the tree he’s resting against while the others chat, and sit yourself down with purpose.
Remus lowers his book very slightly to peer at you and your too-sweet smile. He raises a sceptical brow. “Should I be scared right now?”
You drop the fake smile and hold up your flower crown expectantly. “Everyone has one, but you.”
“How observant,” he says, setting his book down to look at you in mock astonishment. “Have the Aurors at the Ministry caught wind of you yet?”
“Don’t be a pain,” you groan, dropping it onto his open book. “I want everyone to wear one for the picture!”
Remus sighs, looking at the large camera over by your bag. You had saved up all summer to buy a magical camera to be able to take pictures of you and your friends in your final year at Hogwarts. The time you used your own muggle camera was a disaster of sparks and broken bits of plastic that took hours to mend. “I already agreed to your incessant picture-taking,” he reminds you, acting like it’s the most painful thing in the world. “The flower crown is not happening.”
“Fine, you miserable git,” you flick a handful of grass at him, sending him sputtering. “Now come and sit for the photo.”
You return to the group with Remus behind you and get everyone in position before hunting down someone to take the photo. Glancing around, you spot a close bunch of first-years and send Lily to use her Head Girl credentials (and warm and inviting personality, of course) to rope one of them into coming over.
“Okay, smile everyone,” you order, plopping down on the grass next to James. You elbow him in the ribs, not even having to look at him to know what he’s doing. “Stop looking at Lily and look at the camera.”
With a couple of mutterings and some nudging, the nervous first-year Hufflepuff girl shakily takes the picture and hurriedly hands you the camera in the middle of the picture sliding out of it. James and Sirius go back to playing with a golden Snitch while Peter watches, while Remus returns to his book.
Lily looks at the picture and coos over how cute everyone looks at the same time as Marlene complaining about her hair. You impatiently take the picture back to slide it into your photo album and something catches your eye.
Sirius is making a peace sign behind Remus’ head. His head that wears a flower crown.
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4. when he bleeds out on you.
You’re not sure what time it is – either very late at night, or very early in the morning. You do know, however, that you want to finish your Herbology essay so you can enjoy tomorrow (or today) and cheer your friends on in the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw Quidditch game. You only have the conclusion left and you’re confident it’ll be done in the next ten minutes.
If you can find your damned quill, that is. You could have sworn you had it ten minutes ago, just before you snuck down to the kitchens to persuade the house-elves to give you the strongest cup of coffee they could make. You take a quick sip and grimace at the lukewarm temperature before setting it down and getting up to search. After turning every sofa cushion upside down, you go to crouch behind the sofa.
You hear the door to the common room being swung open and the hushed voices of the Marauders enter, but you don’t take too much notice as you squint for your quill. It isn’t unusual for the boys to be roaming around the castle at odd hours of the night, but a hiss of pain grabs your attention at the same time you spot the quill.
“Can you guys manage taking him up to the-” Sirius cuts himself off when your face pops up from behind the sofa. He freezes in his efforts to hold up Remus, who you notice is leaning on him and James and Merlin’s balls he’s covered in blood.
“What the fuck happened to him?” Your voice comes out weak as you walk over to the boys. Remus has deep, bleeding slashes over his chest and an assortment of little cuts on his face and hands. He seems barely able to keep his eyes open but when his gaze meets yours, he winces. He isn’t the only one hurt and you realise Sirius’ arm is damp with blood and trembling, the same going for James’ thigh. “What the fuck happened to all of you, oh my God…?”
“Peter, you were supposed to keep watch,” James hisses at the boy who looks like a deer in headlights. He looks a lot better than the others, with only a couple of small cuts scattered around his face and arms.
“She was behind the sofa!”
James’ leg buckles and you snap out of your state of shock to dart forward and keep him steady. “Right. Shit, okay,” you breathe out, holding off asking any questions to prevent anyone from bleeding out. “James, Sirius, set Remus down on the sofa and take off his shirt. Peter, help these two up the stairs and go find a first-aid kit or something.”
“We’ve got a couple in the dorm,” Sirius says, summoning one of them down with a quick Accio and handing it to you. He hesitates for a second, probably unsure if he should stay and explain things, before deciding to turn in the direction of the stairs with James as Peter rushes to help them up. “Look after him, please. We’ll be right back, Moony.”
“Take your time, I’ve got him,” you utter, already fiddling with the first-aid box and trying to open it with shaky hands. You’re no healer, but you know enough to panic when you see Remus has had his eyes closed for the last few seconds. “Remus, keep your eyes open!”
He groans, cracking one eye open to look at you. “I’m injured and bleeding out and you still manage to yell at me.”
“I wasn’t yelling,” you frown, unscrewing the bottle of dittany and scrambling for the cotton pads. You try to avoid Remus’ gaze because you feel extremely silly about being more panicked than him when he’s the one with claw marks down his chest. “Don’t move, or it’ll hurt.”
While dabbing the liquid onto the deep gashes in an attempt to close them up, you ponder on the fact that he probably knows it hurts from experience. You’re not completely clueless.
“What are you thinking?” Remus whispers in the stifling quiet of the common room, looking unsure.
You don’t cease in your movements, changing cotton pad after cotton pad. It takes you a minute to muster up the courage to meet Remus’ gaze again and this time he looks more nervous than you’ve ever seen him. “You’re a werewolf, aren’t you?”
Remus gives you an almost imperceptible nod, like he doesn’t want to admit to it. You take a deep breath.
“Who else knows?” you ask calmly, as if you’re asking him about the weather.
“The boys and Lily,” he admits, swallowing hard. “Oh, and Snape.”
“Snape?” you exclaim, halting your dabbing to gawp at Remus. “I’m not saying you had to tell me or anything, but Snape?”
 Remus winces and you don’t think it has anything to do with his injuries. “In my defence he found out on his own and hates me for it,” he rushes out. “And it’s not that I didn’t want to tell you… I-”
“It’s fine,” you cut him off, waving him off and wondering how good you’re hiding the fact you’re a little hurt. “You didn’t have to tell me.”
“No, I wanted to. I did,” Remus insists, looking earnest. There’s something in his voice that’s a little pained and desperate that has you meeting his eyes. “I just couldn’t have dealt with it if you started looking at me differently. The boys and Lily sometimes do, y’know? Like I’m made of glass or something. It’s refreshing whenever you scowl at me or call me an idiot or an arse or a stupid gi-”
“Okay,” you stop him, stifling a grin. “I get it!”
Remus’ eyes flash with relief for a second before you notice doubt start to creep in again. “You don’t need to hide it, by the way. I won’t hold it against you if… If you’re scared or disgusted, or-”
“What?” you cut him off again and scrunch your nose in confusion. “I’m not scared or disgusted. Why would you think that?”
“You’ve been a bit too calm,” he points out.
Rolling your eyes, you grab a bandage to start patching up the worst of the injuries before you move onto the minor cuts and bruises. “I didn’t want you to think I was freaking out, or looking at you differently,” you quote his own words to him with a pointed look, making him smile again. “I don’t, you know. Think of you any differently, I mean.”
His expression is unreadable as he just looks at you and you just look at him, bandage hovering over his chest before his fingers come up to brush the back of your hand. He lightly holds your hand, softly running his thumb over your knuckle as his voice drops to a whisper again. “Thank you.”
You offer him a gentle smile, holding his gaze for a second longer before focusing on bandaging him up again. His hand drops to the side and you oddly find yourself missing his warmth. The large bandage adheres to his skin and you run your fingers along the sides to stick them down, feeling him shudder under your touch.
You quickly busy yourself with looking for more supplies in the kit to hide the way your own breathing has increased slightly. “Hey, anyway, I almost walloped Snape right in the eye for you. If that wasn’t any indication of my standing on werewolves, I don’t know what is.”
“Ah, my knight in shining armour,” Remus chuckles before breaking into a wheeze as the muscles of his injured abdomen contract. “Fuck, don’t make me laugh.”
“Don’t laugh at me then!”
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5. when you’re definitely not jealous… you’re not!
Three cups of coffee. You’re on three cups of coffee. It’s also the same number of hours you’ve slept and by Godric can you feel it in every inch of your body as the muted chatter of the Great Hall buzzes around you. Your head is in your hands as you contemplate stealing some Polyjuice potion and bribing a first-year to take a dose with your hair in it so you can go to bed and they can pretend to watch the Quidditch match.
You knock back the last sip of coffee when you sense a presence sliding onto the bench in front of you. Groggily setting the cup down, you see that its Remus. It takes a second to remember why this is concerning.
“Morning, h- Wait, what the hell are you doing out of bed?” you hiss, leaning forward to avoid anyone listening in. You scan your eyes over his chest, two seconds away from ripping his shirt off to check his bandages. “How are you even standing?”
“Relax, Florence Nightingale,” Remus says, rolling his eyes at your dramatics. He does his own quick sweep of the table and sees that most people are out in the Quidditch stands already, so he proceeds to pull the neckline of his shirt down slightly to reveal an already fading scar. No bleeding in sight. “I went to Madame Pomfrey with the boys this morning and she hurried up the process like she usually does. I feel achier than a 90-year-old woman with a metal hip, but the brunt of it is gone and Pads and Prongs are good as new.”
“Okay,” you say slowly, narrowing your eyes slightly. “If you’re sure you can sit out in the stands…”
“I can once I’ve consumed every cup of tea on the premises,” he says, reaching for the teapot. An annoyingly smug smirk starts to appear on his face while he pours. “What, are you worried about me, trouble?”
You scowl instantly. “No, I just don’t want you collapsing on me in the Quidditch stands while I’m cheering the boys on.”
“Right.” He hides his grin behind his cup of tea.
“Hey,” you mumble, nodding to Patricia Holloway who looks like she’s making a beeline to your table. More specifically, towards Remus. “Bright and cheery Hufflepuff incoming.”
“Merlin, it’s too early for this,” Remus whispers, taking another sip of tea before his face breaks out into a charming smile directed at the girl who slides into the empty seat next to him. “Morning, Patricia.”
“You look good today, Remus,” Patricia rests her elbow on the table and tilts her head to look at him with simpering eyes. It’s no secret Remus is good-looking and you’ve heard a million girls talk about him before. You’ve never seen any of them approach him yourself, though. You can’t say you enjoy it. “Are you… okay, Y/N?”
You didn’t realise you were scowling until she addresses you and you rapidly smooth out your expression, clearing your throat. Remus looks amused, which makes it harder to keep the scowl off your face. “Fine! I’m fine, just a bit confused since Remus looks half asleep,” you attempt a laugh through gritted teeth and are spurred on when Remus is actively trying to fight a grin. “And his hair currently makes him look like he’s been dragged through the Forbidden Forest.”
He can’t stop himself snorting at that, but Patricia just looks confused as though unsure how to react. She settles on a nervous little laugh, turning back to him. “I can fix that for you, here,” she says, scooting closer and starts to run her hands through Remus’ hair. You poke your cheek with your tongue, marvelling at how bold she’s being and how Remus is just sat there, still looking amused as ever. “There, what do you think?”
“A hairbrush couldn’t have done a better job,” you deadpan, softening your expression slightly when Patricia begins to look a little disconcerted. “You keep doing that, I’m going to head off to the Quidditch field.”
You all but storm out of the Great Hall, exhaustion having left you completely. It’s replaced by a newfound whirl of irritation that pools in your stomach and creeps up your throat, making you feel a little sick. It must be the coffee, you think, and you’re trying to remember if the beverage has ever made you experience this when all of a sudden there’s a hand circling your wrist.
“Stop, Y/N,” Remus says, a little breathless. You didn’t realise he’d run out after you and you feel bad about his injuries before your gaze snags on his newly tousled hair. “Godric, you walk fast.”
“I didn’t ask you to catch up to me,” you snap, purposely scowling this time. The cheeky bastard still looks amused and your irritation is growing faster than ever. “Besides, the match doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes. Plenty of time for Patricia to give you a whole new hairdo. Maybe she can give you plaits or– Why are you laughing.”
“You’re jealous,” he exhales with a smile, sounding positively delighted. Any feelings of concern have disappeared and are being rapidly replaced with wanting to thwack him upside the head. “Oh my God, you really are jealous.”
“Jealous, my arse,” you scoff, turning your back to him with every intention of speed walking out of the castle. His long legs keep up with you easily and he rushes in front of you to stop you going anywhere. You glare at him. “Leave me alone, Lupin.”
“Not until you admit that you’re jealous.” Remus is positively giddy with glee and you feel a flush of heat crawling up your neck. You set your jaw stubbornly and he’s incredulous as he shakes his head. “Merlin, you really have to argue with me on everything don’t you? I don’t care about Patricia Holloway and I’m glad you’re jealous. Means you’re less likely to break my nose when I kiss you.”
You barely get the chance to make an incoherent noise when Remus grabs you by the waist and presses his lips against yours, kissing you like he isn’t prepared to let you go anytime soon. His mouth slides hot and wet against your own and you gasp into the kiss when he nips lightly at your lip, your hands coming up to slide into his hair, making it unruly all over again.
Remus is the first to break apart, too soon, and you physically restrain yourself from chasing after his lips. He pulls back slightly, breathing fast to look into your eyes, searching for the answer you’re unable to speak yet.
“You… uh, I-I’m…” you trail off, dazed and breathless and head swirling with every emotion under the sun.
Remus laughs, pulling you impossibly close and leaving a soft kiss on your jaw, which doesn’t help your current speech issues. “If I knew that was all it took to shut you up, I’d have kissed you years ago.”
“Wha-!” You slap his arm, snapping out of the haze. You hide your current uncertainty behind a glare. It hit you like a ton of bricks, but you realised about five seconds into the kiss that you wanted Remus Lupin in every way, shape and form. You’re more than a little terrified, so what better defence mechanism than anger? “Why did you actually kiss me, you prick?”
“You are the densest, most clueless,” Remus begins, pausing to kiss you lightly a couple times when you start to scowl. “Most stubborn and most beautiful little witch I’ve ever known. And if you haven’t figured out after almost seven years that I love you, then I’m afraid we might have to admit you to St Mungo’s, because really-”
“Stop,” you whisper, lifting a finger to press against his lips, effectively silencing him. “You love me? You actually, seriously love me?”
He rolls his eyes and nods, like it’s obvious or something. You huff. “Then why have you been such an annoying pain in my bloody arse, Remus Lupin?!”
“Because,” he says, the word coming out muffled and you hastily remove your finger. “It was a good way to keep your attention. Plus, I like when you’re angry. It’s cute.”
You scowl without thinking and his smile impossibly widens.
“See?”
“Shut up and kiss me again,” you say dryly, pulling him in by the collar to give him a short, searing kiss. “Oh, and I guess I love you too.”
“So, no broken noses in my future?” Remus asks hopefully, softly sliding his nose against yours.
“No promises.”
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© angelfic 2023.
6K notes · View notes
indecisivemuch · 8 months ago
Text
The Pact
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Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader
Summary: Seeing you yearn for a relationship and dejected over the lack of one, Luke Castellan proposes a dating pact. Little did you know, he was going to do more than just wait until the day the pact could happen (friends-to-lovers, fluff, pining, a lot of longing, lowkey jealous luke).
Note: Sort of inspired by Monica and Chandler's pact thing from Friends.
Word count: 3.4k
You were spending some time alone near the lake, trying to enjoy mid summer sunlight as well as the silence from the lack of campers and couples around. For some strange reason, the number of people dating at least tripled in the last three weeks. If you were honest, the sight of happy couples was starting to irritate you.
Your eyes glided through the lines in the novel you were reading, though you could barely get past a few pages before a degree of bitterness seeped through. You set the book down and sighed. Your head leaned against the tree behind you while shutting your eyes and furrowing your eyebrows. 
Oh, if only someone could love you the same way love was portrayed in books.
Before the scowl could grow permanent on your face, you felt light finger tips setting on the crease between your eyebrows. Instead of getting scared, you remained calm. You knew immediately who it was because there was only one person who would do that. The person sat down next to you and you turned to see them already smiling at you. 
To most, Luke Castellan was just the Hermes cabin counselor and best swordsman. But to you, he was a close friend and confidante. He has made it a habit to press softly against your scrunched eyebrows to prevent you from scowling further. It was somewhat sweet to you.
“What’s got you so bothered?” Luke asked, peering at you while tilting his head in a boyish manner. The look alone somehow made you blush. There was no denying that Luke was cute. You knew at least a handful of people at camp who would agree. It honestly surprised you that he was still single. Though you were somewhat relieved at that. For about a year now, you have had a little crush on the Hermes cabin counselor. It was not hard falling for his kind words and sweet actions.
“This is going to sound so stupid…” You let out a deep sigh.
“Oh, come on, since when have I judged you for being stupid?”
“Oh, so you do admit I’m stupid sometimes?”
“Yes, but is that really a problem, considering I find it endearing?” You hope he did not see the way your face heated up at his words. 
Little did you know, Luke did notice it, just like he has always noticed little details about you. Knowing he was the reason behind your pink-tinted cheeks filled his heart with joy. In fact, throughout the last year, it got to the point where he would grow very bold with his flirty jokes, disguising his feelings in between them. Honestly, he was surprised you had not caught up to the truth yet. 
“Okay, well, so many people have gotten together lately, and it’s got me a little bit annoyed.”
“Why?” Luke questioned.
“Because, I want that experience, you know? The teenage love thing. We already have a strange life, fighting creatures and going on quests that could kill us. I just want to at least experience an aspect of a normal teenage life,” you watched him nod and digest your words. “I didn’t want it, want it. But seeing everybody else experiencing it makes me wonder when it will be my turn, you know?” You sighed before adding, “To make matters worse, it seems like nobody is interested in me that way, so…”
Luke almost let out a chuckle of disbelief at your last remark. Oh, many Demigods found you cute. But if only you knew to look right under your nose. He has always been here. If only you could see him how he wanted you to and give him a chance.
Ever since the day Luke Castellan met you, he became a dreamer. During the night, every dream would be of you, while in the morning, he’d daydream of you until he would see you next. You filled in every thought, walking in his mind like it was your home. But even if it wasn’t your place, he’d still give you the keys without hesitation.
“So…you just want to experience teenage love?”
“Well, that, and ideally, to be loved too. I don’t just want some casual teenage love, but at the same time, I’m tired of waiting around.”
A lightbulb practically lit up inside Luke’s head as an idea popped up. The logical part of his mind was yelling that this was a bad idea, though the more chaotic side was pushing him to just give it a shot. Though, he spent little time contemplating.
“What if we make a pact? By the end of summer - so maybe in about a month - if you haven’t started dating anybody…let’s date each other,” Luke blurted out before his mind could talk him into backing out. It was stupid, and he knew it. But if that was one way to potentially date you, then so be it. 
Luke’s heart squeezed when he saw you completely frozen. He started panicking. Maybe he made it too obvious, and perhaps you didn’t like him in that way and were trying to find a way to back out. 
“I mean—just so the both of us could experience teenage love, you know? I think it will be great. We already get along well. We’re good friends. What could go wrong?” Luke tried in a more casual voice.
A lot could go wrong — you thought. A possible thing that could go wrong is that you would fall harder for Luke, and that feeling would absolutely destroy you when you two break up because he finally becomes genuinely interested in another girl. Or, it has you so hung up that you would confess to him, only for him to say that whatever you two had was just a pact. But Gods, your heart must actually be a fool to whisper to your brain, ‘I mean…at least you would no longer have to imagine how it would feel like to be his.’
“Sure,” you said before you could think twice about it. “Deal,” you grabbed his hand and shook it.
“Deal.”
Now…Luke just needed to do a couple more things in the meantime.
During the first week, you asked Clarisse to set you up with somebody. She introduced you to one of her friends, Dean. However, when you mentioned Dean to Luke, he clicked his tongue before warning you.
“I just think you deserve better, Y/N. I’ve known him for five years and have never seen him bring one person on a date twice. Last week alone, he went on a date with five people.” Since then, you haven’t spoken to Dean again, deciding that you don’t want to try and date a playboy.
Two weeks later, you asked this guy on a date. He came to the picnic you had set up with a bouquet of flowers. However, your smile faltered slightly when you realized they were the type of flowers you disliked. You shook the negative thoughts away. After all, it’s the effort that counts.
Things quickly went downhill as the guy started sneezing…a lot. His eyes were watering, and it seemed like he was borderline getting sick. You noticed him trying to stop sneezing. You could feel the guy trying—you really did. But the last straw broke when he turned away to sneeze mid-sentence but didn’t do it fast enough. 
Three days before the day that marked the day the pact would be able to begin, you attended a party hosted by the Hermes cabin. You were honestly done with trying to find someone to date. Perhaps, this pact thing was not such a bad idea after all, even if Luke might not like you as much as you like him. But at least you knew he would treat you well.
However, your numbers must have turned because somebody had walked up to you and struck up a conversation. With similar humor, your jokes bounced off each other’s, and you almost started crying from laughing at one point.
The sound of your laughter caught the attention of the Hermes cabin counselor. Luke could feel his lips slowly curling up into a smile at the sound of your giggles and laughter. He has always found the sound so endearing.
However, when he turned his gaze over at you, his eyebrows scrunched at the sight of you conversing with another Hermes boy — Oscar, who was also one of his friends. Luke was no longer paying attention to the conversation in his circle right now. His ears were busy trying to make out what that boy was saying to make you laugh like that. However, he almost left his friends when you touched Oscar’s arm while giggling at another one of his jokes.
You always tend to physically react to Luke’s jokes, from small touches while laughing to you playfully slapping his arm at his cheekier jokes. They never fail to make the tip of his ears grow red while his cheeks match the same color. Though Luke swore he had never seen you this way with anybody else. Hence, he was less than enthusiastic at the sight of you doing the same with another guy right now. 
You continued talking to Oscar, but your conversation stopped when somebody bumped into Oscar and spilled their drink onto him. 
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to trip…” the guy who bumped into Oscar apologized.
“Chris, it’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Oscar said, though a sigh quickly followed his words. “I’ll just go and wash the drink off, but I’ll talk to you in a bit, though?” Oscar looked at you. He smiled when you gave him a sweet nod.
“Sorry again, man,” Chris said before watching Oscar exit the cabin. He turned to you now. “So, how are you? Are you enjoying the party?” You answered Chris and started catching up with him. You and Chris met through Luke, though as the years went on you two became friends as well.
With your focus now on Chris, you did not notice the figure of the Hermes cabin counselor zooming past you two and outside, following a certain someone. However, your conversation with Chris didn’t last long because Clarisse swooped in and borrowed you from Chris. 
“So, I saw you talking to Oscar. Give me the details,” she said, dragging you down to sit beside her.
“He’s great! It’s so easy to talk to him and be around him.”
“Easier than with Luke?” you gave her a warning glare. You might have told her about your little crush on Luke, though you confessed that to her out of the belief that nothing would ever happen and that it would pass soon. Fast-forward to a year later, your feelings have not changed. 
“...No, but—”
“I’m telling you, Luke’s the best one for you.”
“He doesn’t like me like that.”
“If he doesn’t like you like that, he would have never made that pact with you." When you didn’t reply to her, Clarisse decided to bring something else up. “Alright, let’s move on and talk about something else then…another candidate. Dean told me you didn’t show up.”
“Show up to what?”
“He wrote you a note asking you to meet him?” the look on your face must have told Clarisse you had no idea what she was talking about. “He wanted to ask you out on a date in person after that talk you two had three weeks ago.”
“Where did he leave the note?”
“Apparently, he was planning to get me to give it to you, but he passed Luke on his way to me, who offered to give it to you.”
“Well, I never got the note. I guess it doesn’t matter anyway. Luke told me he’s quite a player.” Clarisse pondered on the information you just provided her. Dean was in no way a player. She knew he has only been on one date with another person at camp. However, the puzzle pieces quickly clicked for Clarisse and she leaned back with a smirk. 
Before you could question the look on Clarisse's face, Oscar came back to the party. 
“Well, if you don't mind, Oscar is back and I have a good feeling about him. So I'm going to go and talk to him,” you left Clarisse, walking in the direction Oscar did. Meanwhile, Clarisse only silently chuckled. She knew exactly what Luke was up to and it made her shook her head in amusement.
“Hey,” you touched Oscar’s arm, though the cheery grin on your face fell when he slightly flinched and shrugged your hand off. “Uhm, it’s good you got that stain off your shirt,” your eyebrows furrowed when you realized Oscar was not even making eye contact with you.
“So, tell me more about that quest you went on last year?” you asked, hoping to start a conversation again. However, Oscar quickly broke out the truth.
“Listen, you seem very lovely, but I don’t want to put myself in the middle of anything. I don’t want to cause any drama.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not the type of guy to steal girls my friends are talking to or having a thing with,” you scrunch your eyebrow in confusion. Just as you were going to question what Oscar was referring to, his eyes betrayed him and looked at someone. You followed his eyesight only to see Luke already looking at you while glancing between you and Oscar. Though realizing he had been caught, Luke looked away and back to his friends.
That was when everything made sense.
“Uh oh…” Chris’s voice snapped Luke from whatever his friends were saying. He followed his gaze to where Chris was looking, only to see you storming over.
“We need to talk,” Luke tried not to think too much about the way your hand felt on his wrist as you pulled him through the crowd and outside. As always, he blindly followed you to wherever you were taking him. 
You released Luke from your grip and stood with hands on your hips. You took a deep breath. 
“Are you kidding me? Have you been sabotaging me? You told me Dean plays around, but apparently he doesn’t. He also gave you a note to give to me, but you never did it. Then, Oscar, who I was getting along with, came back acting weird, wouldn’t even look me in the eye, and then told me we have a thing going on?”
Oh, Gods, you found out about what he has been doing.
“Listen…” Luke started off while rubbing his neck, though he was unsure what to say next because he was indeed guilty of every accusation you were throwing towards him. But how was he meant to trust fate that you would still be single by the time the pact would be able to come true?
So, he intervened in his own way. That included throwing away Dean’s note, having Chris spill a drink on Oscar to get the boy away from you so Luke could have a talk with him. He might have also suggested your date two weeks ago to get you flowers, despite knowing that the boy was allergic to flowers.
All he wanted to do was to make sure the pact could happen.
“Luke…why? You know I wanted this. I wanted to experience things and date someone.” You weren’t mad, but you were slightly disappointed and confused. You didn’t understand Luke’s intentions behind his actions.
However, Luke misinterpreted the look on your face. He thought you were genuinely upset, and that alone pinched Luke’s heart. He gulped at the idea that he might have disappointed you or made you sad. Screw waiting until the pact happens before confessing. What use would that be when you might somehow start hating him?
“...Maybe I wanted it to be me,” Luke confessed, watching your eyes widen. “You told me you wanted to experience teenage love and feel loved, and you’re tired of waiting until it’s your turn. But I have never told you what I want.” Luke took a step closer to you before starting.
“I want to be the one to take you on dates and give you your favorite flowers every single time. I want to be your personal hype man and be your shoulder to cry on if you ever need one. I want to sit with you by the lake while you read. I also want to read the books you read and those little annotations you make. I want to learn about the things you love and the things you don’t. I want to do things you love. I want to show and tell you just how amazing you are every single day. I want to let the feelings I have right now grow cause I really like the idea of loving you, and I want to get there someday.”
You stood there shell-shocked. This felt almost surreal, like something you read from one of your novels. You have always wished to have someone who practically walked out of a romance novel.
“I want you.”
And here he was, standing in front of you, begging for a chance to be yours.
“And I know you just want teenage love, and I could offer you that. But just know I’m also offering so much more, even if you don’t treat the pact the same way as I do and will only view it as a casual relationship. But I suggested that pact and chased all those guys away because I like you a lot, Y/N. And in hindsight, it was stupid and selfish. But I did it because I felt like it was the only way I could have you.”
“I like you too, Luke,” the words slipped out so easily like they were always meant to be said. “I want you to be my teenage love. I want you too.” You’ve been walking around asking when it would be your turn. If only you had paid attention and looked closer instead, you might have noticed he felt the same way. You wanted everything he has spoken of and be just the same for him — to be there for him and learn to love the things he does.
“And I look forward to every single one of the things you’ve told me, and be the same for you. I really can’t wait for it. However, there is one thing I really want right now,” you said as you walked closer to him, one hand taking his own into yours.
“What?” Luke rasped out, looking so tentatively at you. Gods, whatever wish that spills from your lips this second will have him scour the world for it—whatever guarantees your happiness.
“I want you to kiss me.”
Oh, you could ask him for a thousand kisses, and he would give you a million.
Luke’s cheeks grew rosy at your request. He stepped closer, tucking your hair behind your ear without breaking eye contact. 
“Can I?” He whispered in a honey-like tone, and you knew right then that if he kept talking to you in that voice, you’d do absolutely anything he asked.
“Mhm,” your quiet hum granted Luke permission to his next addiction. Without hesitation, Luke attached your lips together with both hands caressing your face tenderly. In return, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled you both closer until your bodies were flushed against one another. Slowly but surely, you also tangled your fingers in his curls. Luke almost immediately melted against your touch, sighing in contentment against the kiss.
Luke was convinced this was now his new favorite thing to do. He wondered if you could taste it through the kiss—his feelings and borderline infatuation for you. Either way, he intended on making every kiss like this: wholeheartedly and as if it would be your last. 
Now, if you were to ask Luke Castellan how to get the person of your dreams, here’s what he’d advise you:
Step 1. Be stupid and propose a dating pact (tick).
Step 2. Chase away every other potential candidate (tick).
Step 3. Confess (tick).
Step 4. Fulfill all those promises you have made about loving the person (To be continued...But, he’s intending to do this for as long as you’ll let him).
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masterlist
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sturnioz · 3 months ago
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fratboy!chris has no reason to hang out with girls if there's no fucking involved — but it's a little different with shy!reader.
the subway car is fairly quiet, the faint hum of the train along the tracks the only sound breaking the stillness. a few strangers occupy random seats, each absorbed in their own world — some listen to music through plugged-on earphones and bluetooth headphones, some are busy reading their books, turning their pages softly, and others have surrendered to their tiredness, their eyes closed, heads leaning against the cool metal poles or the windows.
you're sitting on one of the wall seats beside chris, your anxiety bubbling beneath the surface as your teeth gnaw on your bottom lip, a nervous habit. your leg bounces restlessly, tapping against the hard floor as you glance up at the digital clock on the train's schedule, the late hour staring back at you.
now, you don't have a curfew at all — but you've always been mindful of getting home at a reasonable hour to avoid worrying your parents, and with your phone dead and unable to call them about your whereabouts, a wave of unease washes over you at the thought of getting into some sort of trouble.
chris is calm and relaxed beside you, his legs comfortably spread, knee bumping against yours as the train ways. his head rests back on the wall, eyes closed, while he chews on a stick of a lollipop that he devoured minutes ago, the muscles in his jaw twitch with each chew.
spending the entire day together was a little odd. you were originally heading to the city alone (after mustering up the courage when your friends had told you they all had plans) and you had bumped into chris on the way into the station. he was straightforward with his questioning, wondering why someone as shy as you would go to the big city alone, before announcing that he was coming with you.
the two of you spent the day walking the busy streets of the city, going into your favourite little thrift stores — which you felt embarrassed with when chris followed you inside instead of heading to a different store, making small comments under his breath and snorting at the little trinkets he came across. when he had led you towards the large stores, the price tags that made you squirm, you trailed behind like a little puppy, feeling out of place.
and when you went to go eat, that's when time had seemed to go by so quickly. you were enjoying yourself in the markets, eating delicious foods at stalls that left your stomach full — although you definitely made some room when chris brought you to one of his favourite dessert stalls, sharing a chocolate fudge and cherry sundae.
"will you fuckin' stop, kid?" chris grumbles suddenly, interrupting you from your memories of today, and your eyes flit to him. his hand lands firmly on your knee to stop your restless bouncing. "you're pissin' me the fuck off with your thumpin'... like a fuckin' rabbit, jesus christ."
"sorry." you whisper an apology, warmth riding to your cheeks as you try to steady your nerves, but it only spikes when you realise chris' hand remains on your knee.
"you need to relax, a'ight? because you on edge right now is.. well, it's makin' me all fidgety 'n shit. just relax... breathe," he tells you as he shifts, his head rolling to the side to meet your gaze, his eyebrows scrunched. "seriously, kid, what's got you all jumpy? huh?"
"it's late," you murmur quietly, glancing at the digital clock once again.
"late?" chris echoes, the corner of his lips twitching in amusement. "what? don't tell me that you got a curfew or some shit?"
"no, no," you shake your head. "it's just that... i always make it home at a certain time so my parents don't have to worry about me, and not only did i go into the city today, but my phone is dead too. i'm really worried that they've been trying to call me and—"
"okay, okay, okay," chris interrupts your rambling, a huff escaping his lips as he shifts his hips, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. "you know your parents' number, yeah? jus' call from my phone, kid. tell 'em you got busy and your phone died — it's easy."
you nod slowly, taking a much more relaxed breath as you accept his phone to do just that. chris scoffs quietly, resuming his chewing on the lollipop stick while squeezing your knee, before slumping his head down nonchalantly on your shoulder, listening as you speak to your parents — completely unaware of you trying to keep your voice steady and ignoring the flurry of butterflies through your stomach at the close proximity.
© STURNIOZ
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timmydraker · 2 months ago
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CW: use of R word
Tim who, as much as he doesn’t want it to be true, is a poster boy for typical Neurodivergence. He’s more logically thinking that emotionally and needs obvious signs of someone’s emotional state that he can put together to understand how he should respond to help them.
But that’s not what bothers him because that doesn’t bother his parents.
Instead it’s his passion, though not in technology and detective work as they quickly found use for that in their business, but for bugs.
Ever since he was a kid Tim has been enamoured by insects and arachnids and even fungi. He would only read books that talked about bugs or had one on the cover, but since it helped him learn to read at a steady pace his parents didn’t mind.
At least, not at first.
When Tim got into coding just so he could make his own little web-journal for all his bug finds, they were happy he was learning how to organise and structure at just six years old, but when he only did those things regarding bugs…
Tim had his first panic attack when he watched his father pick up his terrarium filled with Diapheromera Femorata (Stick bugs) and chucked it into the bin. The glass shattered as the corner his something hard and he was forced to watch his bugs struggle to navigate the glass and rubbish, most of them injured.
His mother had gagged when she saw them and demanded the whole bin be burnt with the bugs still inside.
Tim had been so heart broken, but mostly confused. His parents traveled the world to dig up dirt and old items that were mostly the same yet they didn’t like bugs?
When he asked one his Nanny’s she gave him an answer that he would never forget, “Well, you see… only those people like bugs, y’know? The… special ones, like re-“
Tim never even let himself think of the last word she spoke and from then only forced himself to only focus on his computer work. He still loved photography but now he took photos of skylines and trees, not the beautiful beehive a few yards behind his house or the spider webs that sat between branches like art works. He took photos of Batman and Robin and for a long time that was enough to make his longing bearable.
If he still followed several pages and articles about bugs either a secret email account, that didn’t matter.
His parents were happy with him even if they still made remarks about his ‘stupid little fixation’.
It’s when they are going over the paper work for Bruce to be Tim’s legal guardian while they weren’t home with Tim’s older brothers hanging around as moral support (bodyguards) that his parents mock him.
Janet is signing some paper with a stupidly expensive pen and chatting to no one in particular when she says, “You’re all lucky we killed this nasty little bugs of his so you don’t have to deal with them.”
Everyone else in the room freezes, beside Jack who huffs a laugh and adds, “Good thing we did, he’d probably be more of a retard otherwise- talking about ‘habitats’ and bloody spiders.”
All of the members of the Wayne family are dead quiet as Tim sits there with a clear look of disassociation coming into his eyes. Alfred has a calm look on his face that tells all who know him that he’s furious and Bruce is strikingly similar.
Jason looks ready to attack and Dick isn’t even moving to stop his brother or calm anyone down.
Damian is holding onto Titus’s collar like a lifeline but seems to give the hound some kind of silent order as the usually calm dog begins to growl low and dangerous.
Jack and Janet tense and stare at both dog and master, Jack ordering him to control his dog.
Bruce stands, letting Titus growl and taking the half signed papers and throwing them in the bin, “I changed my mind, I will be taking you to court for full custody of my son. Leave my house now so I may obtain a restraining order.”
Janet genuinely flounders for a moment and begins to shout about outrage and audacity but when Dick sees that Tim is starting to cry he stands up and reminds them that he is a cop before moving to pick up his second youngest brother and leaving the room.
Tim doesn’t hear much else, only muffled shouting and the sound of a door slamming.
He distantly realises he’s in the family room, not the one they use to have guest but the real one with beanbags and a snack draw, and is being cradled by his brothers. Even Damian is beside him, holding onto his hand tightly as they wait for Bruce and Alfred.
Tim sobs into Dicks chest for Alamos a whole hour before settling more, Bruce coming into the room and Jason and Dick reluctantly hand him over to he can be held by their father.
“Tim, chum, it’s alright. We’ve got you.”
The boy in question shakes his head, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t talk about the bugs I promise-“
Bruce squeezes him tighter and kisses his head, “I don’t want that. What I want is to hear about your bugs.”
Stunned, Tim looks up at him with confusion and barely gets his mouth to move enough to ask what he means.
Dick coos from beside him on the next couch and runs a hand through his hair lovingly, “My sweet baby brother we love you, and you love bugs! So of course we want to hear about it. I’m so sorry we didn’t know how they had been treating you but it was wrong. There’s nothing wrong with you, I swear it.”
Tim sniffled, nodding absentmindedly. They gave him a moment for their words to sink in before Damian spoke up, “Timothy, I demand you tell me about your bugs.”
Jason makes a noise and elbows Damian as if to tell him to shut up, probably thinking the other was being rude, but Tim knows his brother well and just smiles. “I can do that, Dami. I… I don’t think you’ll be very interested though.”
Damian scoffs, “I will ignore that statement as it implies I would waste my time with something I don’t care for.”
Bruce smiles at his youngest and holds Tim’s hand, “I agree. Could you maybe tell us about why you like them? Or your favourites?”
It takes him a moment to respond, but when he looks at all their open expressions and gets an encouraging nod from Alfred, he stutters out a response before gradually gaining confidence as they ask genuine questions to his facts and descriptions.
They each make an effort to ask him about bugs, Jason asking a few times if he wants to check out some books that he knows use bugs as symbolism’s and Dick asking if he can tell him the difference between insects and arachnids several times. Damian and Bruce are both a bit more subtle with their support at first, but after a month Tim enters his room to find a giant terrarium with several different sections so he can have multiple bugs that might not get along with each other.
Bruce and Alfred don’t even make any comments or give disapproving looks when Dick and Jason reveal they each got a tattoo of the bug that Tim said he associates with them.
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ybklix · 1 month ago
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LUST
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☾⋆⁺₊ pairing: OT8 x fem!reader ˖⋆࿐໋ 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔: Lee Minho plans a little getaway with his closest friends, their wives, and you, his girlfriend and most adored and prized possession, right after he intentionally reads your private diary and leaves him wandering with your writing about something particular.
𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆 — 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: MDNI 18+, smut, cuckolding, mention of age gap, cheating, est. relationship, pet names, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, daddy, dreg, corruption & praise kink, impact play, handjob, oral sex, fingering, clitplay, boob play, slight roleplay, gangbang, double penetration, bukkake, unprotected sex, creampies, cumplay, & more !! ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦ ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦ word count: ~15k
ʚ⁺˖ 𝔴𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 ˖ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ (𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 '𝟮𝟰) ₊˚🕯️♱‧₊˚. 00: THE INTRO
main masterlist ; taglist ⭑.ᐟ
a/n: happy and spooky october! my very first kinktober event! (and ot8 lmk what u think:3) i tried to put a tiny plot lol
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“I decided to take a couple of days off, well, starting with this weekend at least” expressed your boyfriend calmly, turning the page of his book, disinterested.
You sat up, turning your body to see him and slightly loosening the grip of his arm over your shoulder as you lifted your head from his chest and watched him happily and confused.
“Why is that…?” you asked him with a smile on your face.
Your eyes sparkled and Minho, your boyfriend, saw them directly, causing him tenderness, you knew there was something about him, you noticed something different from the first instant since you knew him so well, it was the first thing you noticed in the morning, but for some reason, you didn’t ask him and now you felt like you were about to know the reason.
“I just… want to relax, I haven’t done that in a while, even before my birthday” he expressed, with his typical tone that you knew so perfectly, that there was something more in-depth in his short and simple answer.
Also, he wasn’t the kind of guy who brings up the topic of his birthday and doesn’t seem fazed by surprises.
You squinted your eyes for a moment and watched him, every faction of his perfect, chiseled face, watching him closely and you knew what a lousy liar he was, Minho wasn’t making eye contact with you all of a sudden and was about to burst out in nervous laughter.
“It’s okay love” you finally replied, genuinely happy for his decision, “you know how happy it makes me that you take these breaks and be with me, it’s to be with me, right?”
He smiled warmly at you, tenderly showing his front teeth and hugging you again as he finally closed his book. You melted at his expression and countenance, you really loved every part of him. You were both there, on a quiet Sunday on the couch reading placidly, Minho sitting and you lying on his chest, enjoying each other’s warmth and company. But in a way, he was a little unsettled and you hadn’t noticed that yet since he was acting so natural and calm.
“Of course I do, honey, I adore being with you… I’ve planned to go to the cabin, shall we?”
You nodded happily, pulling your face closer to him.
“I love the idea…”
And before you could kiss him, he spoke again saying:
“And have the boys come with me…”
Minho blinked suddenly waiting for your answer, but you pulled away from him a little and quickly thought that’s what all the mystery surrounding him during the day was about.
“Oh, you’ll go only with t…”
“No love, I want us to go, them and I thought I’d invite their wives.”
You didn’t know what to say for a moment, you just stared at him for a few seconds and you could think that it was his cabin anyway, his own property and he could decide what to do with it at his own will, so you just smiled, deep down a little disappointed because you had already got the idea into your head to spend a weekend alone in the relaxing forest with your boyfriend, an activity he really loved; but you respected him a lot, absurdly a great amount that you used to be so modest with him to what led you to be submissive to him, something you have discussed previously, in that you may have different opinions and you were more than free to express everything with him, yet you didn’t know exactly why you couldn’t accomplish it. You loved the cabin, it was so spacious, it was literally a big house, the landscapes were beautiful and Minho had it very well kept as it was like his own sanctuary. There was this idea that if he didn’t have to be a civilian and functioning adult with a job in the city, he would live in the quiet of the forest without thinking about it, but it was a few hours outside the city and its access was not so easy. He always offered you his cabin as a way of escape for inspiration in your new work, but he was busy all the time and couldn’t stay with you there, causing you fear and uncertainty to be alone in the forest so you just politely declined every time.
“It’s okay, Minho, it will be fun” you replied kindly, giving him a quick kiss anyway.
You felt the softness of his lips for a brief moment, thinking about that homely, adventurous, and manly side you loved about him, he adored his typical ‘man activities’, being outdoors, camping, fishing, building things, giving you instructions when you didn’t know how to do something he knew almost automatically like fixing a car, putting together a piece of furniture and all those little things he took care of, sighing softly, every now and then letting out an aghh in a whine and looking at you with his big eyes in a falsely disapproving joking way to continue to help you anyway with all his willingness and affection, all those small and simple actions in huge contrast to how you met him, so formal, academic and modestly. You loved him so much and he loved you too.
“I knew you’d like the idea, princess. Do you want me to buy you a new wardrobe to go into the woods this time? It’ll be cold and the last time we went it was summer…”
Your cheeks turned warm quickly, something about him spoiling you too much, buying you and giving you everything, absolutely without whining and you without even having to lift a finger, still caused you some shame, you wanted to earn it, you had been unemployed for months now after graduating, but Minho was supporting you and he used to tell you that you shouldn’t think like that, you did work hard, in writing your new book… but simply, you didn’t manage to finish it. He has given you everything and so many opportunities that even the slightest thing shocked you, despite your already long-standing relationship.
“I’ll see what I can buy myself…” you wanted to emphasize the words buy myself, implying that you would use the money they used to pay you from time to time when you sent the manuscript of some chapters.
“Buy all you want, use my card, dear” he sentenced with a smile, “Do you want more coffee?”
You didn’t even reason his question and nodded somewhat stunned, the next thing you saw was your boyfriend get up from the couch to grab your cups on the nightstand before you and walk to the kitchen. You followed him with your eyes, you wanted to be so grateful to him in such a way that he could feel it and touch it, he kept telling you that he knew you were grateful and that your final art will be a delicious reward for him, but sometimes you felt the need to do something for him… but you couldn’t think of something concrete, not like the things he did for you. You also thought, as you leaned your body back against the couch, how much he loved the cabin, and his 7 closest friends, so when he mentioned ‘the boys’ you knew exactly who Minho meant. You met them over time in your relationship, at reunions and birthdays, you got to be at the birthday party of Seo Changbin, Han Jisung, Lee Felix, Kim Seungmin, Bahng Chan, and the upcoming was Minho’s, you met the rest of his close group, Yang Jeongin and Hwang Hyunjin. Only four of them were married, Chan, Changbin, Seungmin and Hyunjin, and of those four, all except Chagbin already had children, about the others, you really did not know their love situation. But you also knew their respective wives and to be honest... They seemed to you, like women with eccentric but empty personalities, and it was not as if you took the time to know perfectly well Minho’s best friends, you only knew their occupations and their approximate age, all of them were older than you, even the youngest was a decade older than you.
Suddenly curiosity flooded you… why would Minho suddenly want so many people on his property, Minho was so reserved and enjoyed solitude, and his home being invaded by 11 people sounded so exhausting, even for you who hoped not to be the main hostess, you thought that he definitely had a reason and you wanted to find out what it was about. Minho on the other hand was nervous, it was more than obvious that there was a reason but he didn’t feel completely confident about sharing the idea with you… without you calling him sick. A very very sick man, invading your privacy and abusing your trust, but since just a few days ago the disturbing idea did not leave his mind and he wanted to act slow, seeing the result of his craziest thoughts.
๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⸙ ᨒ↟ ⋆。°
“Do you want to say goodbye to our privacy for the weekend?” you mentioned cheekily, moving dangerously close to Minho.
It’s been five days already, since your boyfriend prepared each one of them with every little detail to go to his house in the forest and make a good impression as a host, with his closest friends and some of their wives.
He frowned in confusion, small dewdrops falling on his straight, short, dark hair, as he closed the back door of his SUV where he had stowed all the luggage.
“Huh?”
“I mean… I love fucking in the cabin with you and now we’ll be with more people around” you commented, pouting a little.
Minho chuckled, incredulously running his tongue along his cavity, amused by your comment, he looked so fucking good, his face just awake, still him in all his senses.
“God, y/n, it’s seven in the morning” he smiled amused with his hands on his hips, almost indignant, “You’re thinking about sex this early?”
You blushed, “Mmm, I’m kinda horny.”
“Wasn’t last night enough?”
You denied frantically, wrapping your arms around his body, “I can never get enough of you…”
Minho released a chuckle, returning your tight embrace, wrapping his strong arms around your lower back and drawing you into his body as an adorable but mischievous smile graced his pretty face and he looked at your countenance in amusement.
“Mmm, okay, but we can’t be late, it’ll be quick…” he mentioned in a low, thick voice, moaning softly in jest as he walked around moving your body trapped in his arms, alerting all your senses.
You were glad, you smiled happily moving the muscles of your face and raising your ears on the spot, being touched by Minho always put you in a perfect mood.
“We’ll be right on time” you replied, lost in the closeness of his face, lips, and soft chin.
“It better be because that fucker Seungmin is always on time.”
You laughed, somewhat stunned letting yourself be carried by his steps to the entrance of his home, where once inside, Minho pushed you against the door and took your lips passionately, surprising you a little, you tasted the fleshiness of his lips and his fresh breath from his oral hygiene just a few minutes ago, his left hand held your cheek while with the other he squeezed your waist tightly; you had dressed so cute and autumnal that your boyfriend had to kiss you after seeing you all dressed up, hair and make up done, dressed in your denim mini skirt, sweater and thin scarf while he was telling you in your ear and between kisses how cute you looked, how much he loved you and how you looked like a cute little doll like that, completely ruining the random lip combo you had chosen, he also got horny seeing you like that, with your mini skirt and such a candid look, getting even jealous for slight seconds that his friends would also see you like this every day, since you weren’t confident enough with them to walk around in your comfortable and loose clothes inside the home, so you had packed different and elaborate outfits with all your necessary makeup, Minho was heated halfway through your kissing session, but unlike you, he knew how to calm down and didn’t ask to do it right there, but it certainly left you wanting more, with your poor core muscles tingling restlessly, but you just watched as your boyfriend stopped, pretending to be shocked and busy, saying he had to get everything into the car and if you would help him, leaving you pining, but right now he was kissing you with much more intensity than a few minutes ago, his body was getting closer and closer to yours to the point where you could feel the hardness of the door on your back and the stiff denim of his crotch with his hard penis trapped in it, rubbing against you.
It took you small seconds to keep up with him, his lips and tongue moving nimbly across you and you couldn’t help but feel the typical tingle in your bottom, enjoying the moment and fantasizing about how much you love sex and intimacy with your boyfriend. It wasn’t something you used to remark on, but your mind kept spinning on how much of an expert Minho was with you, it wasn’t like you were the most expert at sex either since, after all, he was the first with you in everything and he was the only person you knew sexually, but he made you feel so great, he knew exactly where to touch you and how to drive you crazy, if that made you young and naive you didn’t care, you loved every moment of the day you got to explore with him, explore the endless desire and pleasure you had until you were panting after you climaxed so intensely.
Minho loved every part of you, he used to ignore the fact that you were younger than him and were slightly a doll to him, so moldable and manipulable to his desire, but he put that aside —or at least he convinced himself to do so— and was quite the gentleman with you, because he loved you, even though sometimes, most of the time, he notices the way you love to be treated a little rough in bed, driving him absolutely wild, fantasizing in all the ways you both could get to fulfill both of your fantasies. In fact, he notices every detail about you, it is inevitable for him not to be aware of you and to be deeply obsessed with you, your relationship started that way, with piercing glances from him to you in places where he should have been professional and kept his posture, but you were the fucking temptation in person, making his life miserable the time he couldn’t have you.
But now, he had you all to himself, all the time, every moment you both desired, Minho adored every inch of you, he praised the ground you walked on, he loved that you were his and taking you around as his most special person and his most prized possession and award, nothing took away his smug smile every time he held your hand in public, he adored possessing you so his deep kisses trapped every part of you as you felt the warmth of his organ separate from you to go down to your neck, gently pulling the thin fabric of your scarf, causing you to tingle and shiver but the feeling didn’t stop, as you suddenly felt his lips on your neck, breathing in your scent, kissing your skin, losing himself in the pure paradise that the sweetness of your being was giving him.
Minho took a deep breath, his libido on edge and his cock throbbing at your slightest proximity, he was losing his mind, he wanted to bite your skin, to revel in your sweet moans of his teeth mistreating your docile young skin but he held back, like a man aware in his senses, but lately he has been holding back a lot when it came to you, one part of him wondered why and the other knew exactly the reason, with a slight prickling sensation in his chest, Minho has been thinking too much about it.
“Fuck, bunny, I can’t fuck you right now, but I’ll be quick and take care of that needy part of you” he whispered into your neck, his heaving breath rocking you, “We can’t be late…. or, fuck it, do you want me to fuck you now?”
His right hand traveled from your waist to your pussy, cupping it for a moment, sending a pang of sudden surprise arousal through your body, you bit your lip, still with the feel of his on yours, with his taste and the madness it was taking you to feel the tip of his nose brush against your neck.
“It’s okay, Minho” you answered without thinking, and without even reasoning a single word he had said, you weren’t thinking clearly, your hormones were high, and you just enjoyed the pressure of his palm on your clit.
“Yeah, what?” he murmured in amusement, pulling away from you to stand in front of you, with a half smile, enjoying your docile expression of pleasure.
You looked up at him into his huge, completely dark eyes which watched you expectantly. You blinked to try to reason but he pressed his hand against your center again making you release a soft moan.
“We’ll be late…” you replied with difficulty, your face was turning red, you were starting to get hot, “You can do whatever you want…”
“Say what you want, now” he ordered, his sudden switch surprised you but you liked it at all, he sounded so serious.
“Can you take care of me quickly, please” you almost gasped in supplication.
“You just love when I make you feel good, don’t you?” he replied haughtily with a smile on his face, giving you a fleeting kiss.
Minho quickly slid to the floor, staying right at the height of your skirt, which he lifted it and his smile somehow got bigger as he saw you wearing tiny protective shorts under it, something in him quickly fantasized about the fact that you were not a bad girl looking for evil, you could be spontaneous and naughty and only wearing your underwear underneath, instead you were protecting yourself as you would be at least almost 72 hours along with more men.
“Good girl” he whispered, panting and mumbling, yanking roughly at your shorts and panties.
You watched Minho, glancing down at him from above, you couldn’t deny how incredibly aroused you were and of all the areas of your body that cried out to be touched, it was in more desperation your sweet throbbing cunt, you wandered between your thoughts and his lewd acts; if only you had ignored the fact that Minho had to receive his friends and decided to be completely filled by him, you would already be naked, pressed against his body as the two of you created more tension, as he prepared your body well before fucking you hard because Minho loves to have you so wet, messed up before finally inserting his well-endowed manhood into you, it was something so common with him, but no, instead, before you could even process it, your handsome boyfriend captured your pussy in his mouth, leaving you stunned and gasping, kissing your area dirtily and nimbly, his lower lip and tongue caressing your folds, labia and clit, his upper lip rubbing on your pubic skin, sucking finely. You thought about how much you enjoyed having him eat you whole and, that if he decided to do it with the same delicacy and passion with which he always gives you oral sex, you would only drag out your orgasm and that might lead you to fall behind with your journey, but you were so needy all of a sudden, that a little bit of your boyfriend’s magic and movements in your desperate spot was enough for you just now.
Minho looked into your eyes raising his gaze and did not take his mouth away from you, he closed it, daintily brushing his lips to gently kiss your mons pubis and moved towards you again, parting your folds and losing himself in your pulsing clit, sucking on it, not caring about your skirt in his mission, as it was tight enough to stay stuck above your hips. You intertwined your hand in his soft hair, enjoying your boyfriend’s warm cavity in your slick. Minho was equally or worse exasperated, so he couldn’t help but torture himself further and in one swift movement he unbuttoned his jeans with one of his hands and pulled his cock out, almost grunting with your pussy in his mouth at the sensation of his hard piece of flesh exposed, pumping in pleasure, he stroked it, filling his hand with his own precum and began to masturbate gently, while with you he remained somewhat rough.
His suction increased in intensity, making you let out a squeal and then bite your lip, his tongue was increasing in speed, his licks were more constant and deeper, you were building your orgasm magically, but you lost your mind as you felt his fingertips caress your folds and then run them more roughly through your wetness until they sought your entrance, teasing you with a single finger, then inserting two, effectively thrusting them inside you, you were a mess of sighs and heavy breathing but you let out an audible moan again as you felt his third finger in you and the gentle nibble of his teeth on your sensitive area.
You were both in bliss, his cock being stimulated by himself to orgasm but not missing a beat in you, finding himself multitasking as he satisfied you with his hand and mouth. You began to shudder, feeling the tense climax in every inch of your body, his fingers were filling you, his tongue licking you all over making incredible shocks of pleasure come to you as you looked into his eyes from time to time, his whole pretty face buried in your core as he struggled with himself masturbating. You gasped in exasperation as you moaned his name, you loved moaning his name, stroking his hair, watching him satisfy you. Your stiff muscles ached but your core was being divinely pleasured and without warning, you cum on your boyfriend’s magical fingers fucking your insides.
Minho pulled his fingers out to taste every part of you one last time, jerking his cock hard until he squeezed and expelled every drop of cum loaded in his sizzling arousal, groaning through his teeth as he ran his thick tongue naughtily cleaning every part of you, making you slightly restless again and hard to recover from your orgasm, because you knew it was a little provocative game Minho liked to play on you, but before you could become aroused again, he broke away from you, raising his face to look at you, his mouth glistening from you, smiling genuinely happy as if he had tasted something finely delicious.
“Go on, princess, go get cleaned up, I’ll do the same and meet you here at the front door to go, okay?” spoke Minho softly.
You were both agitated, but satisfied that you couldn’t have asked for anything better before starting your little adventure in the forest of which you had no idea what you were in for or about to do so in the meantime you kept calm about it, but the more you thought about it and the closer and closer you got to your destination, you were terrified of the idea of looking like an immature girl who was all the time next to her boyfriend because she didn’t have enough confidence with the rest of the people who would be there, because the more you thought about it the more absurd it seemed to you the matter or the reason for such a weekend. You tried to look on the bright side, but deep down you hoped it wouldn’t be a long or tedious weekend at all.
You two went to get cleaned up and returned with big smiles to get into Minho’s car and drive a little over two hours out of the city to officially head into the woods. You fixed your makeup on the way as Minho drove, gently squeezing your thigh as he gave you a smile and headed off on his way to his property, you returned the sweet gesture with a smile and excitedly, did your best not to sleep, talked the whole ride with Minho and had fun selecting music.
“Play something from IU, baby” commented your boyfriend watching you holding your phone to handle the music, then looking back towards the highway.
“IU…” you replied playfully, squinting your eyes and pouting at him, annoyed.
Minho laughed and the rest of the ride was so enjoyable, you were a little sleepy but it was enough for you to see the attractive profile side of your partner and suddenly you would blurt out something that came to your mind. But in moments of silence, when the music was the only thing that accompanied you, you thought about the situation, it was obvious that Minho wanted to spend some time with his friends and he would leave you with the wives of his best friends but… what the fuck could you talk about? You were a recent college graduate, your hobbies were so normal and banal to those of a young girl your age, but from there also came your uncertainty and insecurity that you would be judged and that they would think of you exactly the same but with Minho, if you are young and your vision or ambitions were oriented differently, then what were you doing with Minho, but it was an answer that you could respond surprisingly with the most cheesy and even childish words, but because you loved him, the support was mutual and that’s why you were with him.
“Maybe… this weekend you can finally find inspiration, sweetie.”
You hummed in response as you nodded softly as he interrupted your thoughts, but right after hearing that you went back to diving into them and the constant worry you had about writing something; Minho noticed your silence immediately wanting to remedy the problem.
“Oh, my dear, I wasn’t telling you that to pressure you, you have time, enjoy, I love you” he said worriedly, speaking fast and controlling his impulses to let go of the steering wheel to hug and touch you.
“Oh, it wasn’t that” you replied unconcerned and somewhat guilty that you made him feel bad, “It’s okay, I’m sorry, Minho. Thank you.”
All the things Minho did for you. Or at least you always thought so. You just wondered if you could ever give it back to him.
Some time later you arrived at his house, your excitement and nerves grew once the tires of his car passed through the forest dirt and on a cool, beautiful October morning, two lovers stood in front of the house you never thought held surprises for you.
The cabin, as Minho used to like to call it, looked the same as you remembered it the last time you went, in the summer just a few months ago, but the atmosphere was cooler, the sky was gray and it was adorned all around by the beautiful autumn color palette, it was cozy, it was absolutely all the essence of your lover Lee Minho in one property.
“I’ll take the things out, hon. If you want to sleep you can go inside, it’s all ready, the housekeeper left it spotless” he added, coming up to you to hug you and pin you against his car door.
“It’s okay. I’m not sleepy, really” you wrapped your arms around his neck, “Besides your friends could be here any minute.”
And just as you said that, you both could hear perfectly besides the sound of the wind and leaves flying, the sound a car driving up to your direction. You both turned your head to the left waiting for the car to show itself, until it did a few minutes later.
“Was he coming behind us and we didn’t see him?” added Minho amused, not releasing his grip on your waist.
You didn’t react, you were so comfortable with your arms on his shoulders that you both watched in anticipation as the car parked and the people got out of it.
Kim Seungmin. Just the person Minho had said would arrive first. Minho had all these characters as best friends. Kim Seungmin, superstar baseball player married to the model and creative director and manager of one of the most famous girl groups currently, basically she was a socialite and businesswoman, Jung Jisook, but better known as Kim Jisook legally taking her husband’s last name.
You felt the woman’s judging look as she lowered her Chanel sunglasses from her face, watching as you and Minho continued like two lovebirds cuddling. You felt bad for a small moment and slowly stopped hugging your boyfriend, who also gently pulled away from you to move closer to his friend.
“Fuck, Minho, I’m early again” Seungmin said suddenly, putting his hands on his hips falsely indignant.
“Nice to see you again, Minho, the house is beautiful and you have the lake for yourself, amazing. I want a lake house too now” added the woman happily, approaching your boyfriend to greet him, “Thank you for inviting us.”
“How are you Jisook? It’s good to see you too, and don‘t worry, my house is your house. How’s Jungmin?”
Jungmin, the Kim’s little two year old boy. You haven‘t met him yet.
“My sister is taking care of him by herself these days” Seungmin replied, “Why did you bring us here again?” he joked, “Ah, by the way, nice to see you again…. Y/n, I’m Kim Seungmin in case you don’t remember.”
You let out a giggle, you were absorbed by the situation around you that you had even forgotten to speak.
“Hello” you replied shyly, waving your hand, “Mr. and Mrs…”
“Seungmin, please” he interrupted you with a smile to which you nodded, he looked straight at his wife, waiting for her to do the same.
“Jisook” she replied despondently.
You bit your lip nervously, you understood and felt her slight disdain for you as before you, in Minho’s life there was someone else, his ex-wife Miyeon, who you were very much aware is still a close friend of his best friends‘ current wives.
“Well, settle in, make yourselves comfortable, Y/n will show you to your room."
“You seriously have rooms for everyone? That’s great” Jisook added, “Honey we should get something like that, wouldn‘t that be fun?”
“The forest at night?” her husband replied, “No thanks, Minho likes it because he’s a maniac.”
You laughed at his comment and waited for Seungmin to put their bags down. You watched him carefully, you had to confess that each of Minho’s friends had their own particular charm and, each of them were really attractive men. Seungmin had innocent looking, droopy-kind eyes, short black hair and a manly, elegant and slim build, with a clean and slightly boyish appearance.
You finally opened the house and led the Kims into the room your boyfriend had previously indicated. You saw Jisook inspecting the place as she walked in and somewhat awkwardly you were about to leave them alone when a “Thank you, y/n” from Seungmin stopped you for a second.
You didn’t know if you were crazy, if you were seeing things that weren’t but Seungmin’s tender and kind look at you changed for a second, his dark eyes were shining and you could notice how he subtly checked you out, somewhat mischievously. You smiled and walked out, frowning and wondering if it was all in your imagination.
But there were so many of their intentions that you didn’t know, Minho’s big little secret baiting you, you were the main attraction, the real reason for those men‘s stay at Lee Minho’s cabin.
You rejoined Minho outside the house, watching each of his friends arrive, taking surprise after surprise as you watched each attractive man walk through the door of the house behind you as you directed them to their room since that was the task Minho had assigned for you.
Next, Seo Changbin, who complained when he arrived and did not think he would be early, but it was all arranged by his wife who wanted to be near the lake; he was an aeronautical engineer with a PhD and a professor at the prestigious university where Lee Minho himself was also a faculty member; accompanied by his pretty model wife and owner of a women’s sportswear line, Seo Chaeryeong. Changbin, in addition to mathematics, loved to keep his image healthy and exercise, so his appearance was muscular and his eyes were so uniquely shaped.
Next, Lee Felix, arriving alone, something about him looked anxious but happy, he was a handsome, freckled, big eyed man with long, blond, dyed hair, he arrived confident with a blue designer suitcase, Felix was a programmer who worked importantly designing video games or something like that you understood from Minho. Right behind him came Hwang Hyunjin, a painter who owned galleries with his wife Vittoria, an exclusive interior designer, who had, together with Hyunjin, been involved in much of the cabin’s interior for years now.
Later at about the same time, Bahng Chan, owner of a boxing academy, which Minho attended, and chief of police in the city, together with his wife Miah, who you had no idea what she did but lived a good life with Chan. After him, Yang Jeongin, the youngest of your group of friends, editor-in-chief of a major fashion magazine, arriving with a huge smile and charisma, secretly being one of your boyfriend’s favorites.
At this point you were exahusted, you didn’t expect to see so many people all of a sudden, you had forgotten your social battery, but finally, your boyfriend’s best friend, Han Jisung, the handsome Han Jisung, producer and composer of major entertainment companies, could not be missed.
They were all, the house was certainly full, a few hours had passed and you were already starting to judge each one with a bit of your writer’s mind, but you decided to ignore it, letting yourself be carried away by the simplicity of the time. Minho had planned it all, cooking for you, getting together for lunch, setting up around the house so you could relax, you were having a good time leaving the fact that you felt highly judged by the four women older than you.
The first day went so well, you went to sleep with Minho kissing him sweetly good night but… the nightmare came the next morning, when your boyfriend distanced himself from you to spend some time with friends and you were forced to spend time with the eccentric and millionaire women, at first it went well, Chaeryeong, the youngest after you, invited you to run early along the forest, which you accepted, when you were about to do so, her husband was outside, preparing some things with the other guys, setting up camping tents because apparently they would be spending the night outside today and after she gave Changbin a quick kiss and started jogging, he gave you a half smile and you couldn’t help but feel watched again, just like the first day Seungmin did, in fact you have been feeling watched, heavy gazes on you.. but you thought you were starting to get paranoid, they didn’t bother you, but they confused you too much… why were they looking at you, as if you were in the spotlight and suddenly they wanted to eat you with their eyes.
You didn't give the matter a second thought, you came in from your little exercise, clearing your mind by jogging through the trees, feeling the cool air hit your face, leaving you breathless and in a cold sweat. You went back to the cabin, showered and dressed up again this time slightly more comfortable and natural, you thought you were going for a quiet afternoon, but your boyfriend forced you to spend the rest of the afternoon with the women in the town 40 minutes away.
You couldn’t believe it, there you were, in Hwang Hyunjin’s car while his wife was driving, you didn’t know if Minho was waiting for them to become your best friends overnight, but it was absurd… they were something unbelievable. You didn’t want to judge them as women blinded in the perfect life and glamour, but they were exactly that, you didn’t blame them, if you had the necessary money god knows how unbearable you would become too, but, being with other people, seeing the sunsets and the sunrise from a new perspective, all those little factors that were making you become yourself again little by little, you were inspired.
You arrived, spent a nice night under the stars and a campfire, eating smores, telling absolutely everything, each one was so talkative in their own way, you could feel why Minho appreciated them a lot, but the robots at their sides didn’t help them at all, you wanted to love them, you wanted to feel in the closeness and trust of women, but you had such neutral opinions about them, they judged with their eyes every time they laughed loudly and you understood that sometimes it was annoying, but not to be reflected that way all the time. The camping tents were in vain, in the end everyone went to sleep inside, that night Minho surprised you, being overly affectionate all of a sudden.
“Look at the view” he said, hugging you from behind, sniffing the smell of your hair as he pointed to the window.
Darkness and more darkness, only a pine tree being dimly illuminated by the light outside. You never stopped to think how scary it looked at night because you were all the time accompanied by Minho and you felt completely safe.
“It looks scary” you spoke your mind.
“It really does, a little bit” he spoke in your ear, turning you unexpectedly to face him.
You looked into his eyes, you understood exactly what was going on.
“I need you” he confessed to you.
Your cheeks turned pink, you were a little shy to have sex because it was so likely that they could hear you, in that case, Felix, Jeongin and Jisung who slept in the same room near yours.
“I don’t know, Min, I don't want to be vulgar and be overheard…” you expressed apologetically.
Minho’s mind spun around, vulgarity, noise, scandal, it was all he could think of lately.
“If you don’t want to do it princess that’s fine, but if you want to do it we can be so, so quiet” he whispered, seducing you as he brought his face dangerously close towards you.
You kissed him. And he got his way that night, it wasn’t like you refused either and, with a hand over your mouth, trying to cancel out any noise coming from you, you and Minho fucked that night. The forest was silent, your muffled moans and Minho’s withheld moans decorated that night.
๋࣭⭑๋࣭⸙ᨒ↟⋆。°
The next morning you woke up without the silhouette of your lover by your side, you took a shower and got ready to go downstairs for lunch but everything was particularly quiet that Sunday morning, your last day of adventure.
You looked around a bit scared, it was as if there was no one else in the house, giving you chills, lunch was ready, at least yours, set on the kitchen island, but there was no one there, but suddenly Minho’s presence managed to scare you a bit.
“You’re awake, baby. Come, we’re outside, have lunch here with us.”
Minho spoke softly to you, giving you a kiss on the cheek and taking the plate of food, the glass and the cutlery to head towards the back area of the house where Minho had a sort of balcony or small living room outside to relax. You were glad not to be alone for a moment, but the strange feeling inside you returned when you saw that it was only his seven best friends sitting there. You felt the piercing gaze of each of them with every step you took.
“Hey, Y/n” Chan greeted you to which you smiled nervously, sitting down.
“Hi” you replied to everyone in general.
You just wondered where their wives could be and how seeing you there alone among them all was questionable, or was it just your mind making you think that.
You were a little shy, yet you dared to look at each of their faces, it really seemed as if they knew something you didn’t, they were hiding something.
The rest of your lunch none of the wives showed up and you felt so shy to ask, but none of them felt shy with you, questioning you down to the smallest detail.
You didn’t understand what was going on, but they did.
๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⸙ ᨒ↟ ⋆。°
Finally back home almost at dusk, you couldn’t help but think about the way you met Minho and that maybe that’s one of the main reasons why you were getting disapproving looks from wives, you knew it was wrong, it wasn’t the best of cases but it happened, you released sparks and your love was born unexpectedly. You had met Minho in a somewhat unfavorable way, in your last winter at the university before graduating, Lee Minho was your professor. At first there was nothing but sighs and complicit glances that you thought were only coming from you, but you didn’t know you were driving Minho crazy and over time… it was inevitable, you got closer and closer to each other on winter break, he took you on clandestine dates, showed you his home, showed you his heart and a side of him that he didn’t think would ever come out again after his divorce, but by January he was already confessing to you that he had never flirted or fallen in love with a student… that the fatality of the situation was inevitable… but that if somehow you both had to try, you didn’t hesitate, at that point you were so immersed in him, everything had his name written all over it and it was perhaps because he was your first great love. You started dating secretly until you graduated and by June he offered you to live with him to which after thinking it over, you accepted and everything with you had been wonderful so far, everything could have been perfect if it wasn’t for your constant feeling of stagnation at work.
You looked at your boyfriend’s profile side and reenacted in your mind the slightly weird moment when he almost forced you to spend with his 7 best friends, you knew you shouldn’t take it that way, but all the women leaving and leaving you alone with 8 men was a situation you were left to think about… but you were so sweet and naive that you didn’t have the slightest idea of the thoughts that ruled the mind of the one you used to think of him as a sweet and tender lover, Minho’s thoughts.
Minho had a degree in languages, literature, in grammar, courses and postgraduate degrees in publishing and among countless other things that surprised you, his family owned a popular and old publishing house which only further developed Minho’s passion for literature and one of the things that made him fall in love with you was your sensual and unique way of writing, the way you chose the words to develop the perfect paragraph of whatever it was you wanted to put forward, the subtlety of your eroticism in words, for when you were both secretly lovers you used to write short stories from a compilation of these in a book he published under his publisher under a pseudonym you both chose, the thrill of something so morally wrong, the ephemeral and forbidden sex in his office, all that motivated you so much, but now he lived with a broken heart that you couldn’t find something concrete to write about so you could have your first book.
Minho saw you frustrated even though you tried to hide it, and on several occasions he witnessed how much you used to write in a notebook, by hand, to which he curiously asked you one night what it was about, to which you nervously answered that it was just your personal diary.
At first he didn’t care, he thought it was cute the way you still wrote by hand, when even he couldn’t keep that level of commitment, but one night, a Saturday night to be exact, a week before he proposed to visit his house in the forest, you went out with one of your friends leaving him alone, so he came into your office, really without any purpose, he saw the chair in front of your desk and remembered how tenderly nervous you were when he found out you had a personal diary, suddenly, curiosity invaded him: Minho knew he shouldn’t, that he was invading your privacy but he was so curious to know, he shared all his secrets with you, but how many of them you kept.
And then, he looked for your diary, finding it after searching, you had hidden it. He wasn’t going to sit down and read every page of your privacy as if it were the damned newspaper, he was just curious about what you were saying most recently, to which, that night, with his heart racing, he opened the journal and read, with a smile as he visualized your calligraphy on the paper.
I have had fantasies. I honestly don’t know why if sex with Minho is wonderful. It’s just… at first it was these dreams, so hot I’d wake up in a daze, with wetness in my panties, feeling it so real, but I’d forget them right away, they were blurry memories of this one and sometimes I just thought they were dreams where I recreated something sexual with Minho, sex on the couch, sex in the kitchen but, god, I sound like a perverted, sexually frustrated older woman in her declining sex life, but, I had this encounter, with one of Minhovs best friends ...
Minho’s heart almost stopped beating for a second and he turned pale when he read that, continuing in panic with the reading, almost wanting to close the journal and not thinking that it could be about what he feared the most, an infidelity. He read on.
… and I think from there, for some reason my subconscious has gone crazy. I was always a firm believer that dreams sometimes had meanings, sometimes they were random products of your mind… but the fact that you imagine even when you are asleep seems incredibly fascinating to me, I always liked dreams, even if they are nightmares, it’s just that, it’s an indicator that your brain never turns off even for a second, I don’t know, it’s something difficult to explain that fascinates me too much. The point is, I ran into one of his best friends while I was doing some grocery shopping and we had a nice talk and I couldn’t help but think how different he was from Minho but the way I liked him so much, he is so handsome, I must admit, he has an exceptional charisma and I think from there my fantasies have grown, I think he is the one I dream about.
Minho stopped reading for a second to look at your manuscript in disbelief. While thousands of not so friendly thoughts ran through his mind: who were you talking about? What the fuck was that all about? Did you like a friend of his? Who? What was going on?
For a moment I had the idea of writing about that, about a woman who frequently has fantasies about her boyfriend’s best friend, but I don’t know, I hope to elaborate and not fall into cliché, besides, what purpose can it serve? Will it be a book about infidelity? Am I unconsciously being unfaithful to Minho? I know minho is not like that, that if I tell him the idea and show him a draft he will be brutally honest and judge as a critic and not as a boyfriend, but I am so uncertain, what if he thinks it is something that happens to me, something I am somehow becoming very familiar with, or am I just overthinking it?
I talked about it with my friends, they told me it’s normal at the same time yes and at the same time no, they laughed at me saying that after all I just wanted to fuck his best friend, but then they argued something that left me thinking more than I already was.
First times and only loves. Minho is the only thing I know of love and I love him. But, it was also my first sexual relationship and my friends argued that it’s only because I’ve never tried another man other than Minho before.
I thought it was absurd, I love him, everything with him is great, the way he touches me and makes me feel, I can easily say that I want to be all my life with him, but the idea had already been embodied in me, they were right, he has been the only man, but it is normal that only sometimes I think what will it feel like to explore with more?
I don’t want to leave him, I love him, I don’t want to cheat on him either, but I’m young and I want to experiment. But I’m also young and I don’t think clearly.
The more Minho read, the more dizzy he became, the next thing, he was astonished, words written by you of an explicit description of everything you would like to do, or at least, everything you dreamed of with a man who was not him. You described him as stronger, firm and rigid fingers going through your core, strong thighs hitting your body every time he penetrated you… god, Minho read absolutely everything with frightened eyes, he wished he didn’t.
Curiosity killed the cat. Minho had stopped fantasizing about other women because with you he had it all… but your argument drove him crazy, he did have experience with more women, but for you Minho was everything, he didn’t know whether to be flattered or confused.
He knew it was wrong and he shouldn’t have read it in the first place but, the stunned left his body after a couple of days and something in him was ignited, the fact that you were so sexually turned on and wanted to try all kinds of sizes… his thoughts weren’t exactly sweet, he imagined your sweet face while you were being fucked, wasn’t that what you wanted and craved so much?
If you wanted to experiment with more men, why not do it with what he already knew and had full trust in.
The idea was unhinged and he didn’t know how to put it to his friends, until he said it, so suddenly and in a serious tone as he used to be, a simple and classic Minho, gathered in tranquility, he blurted out:
“Mmm, I think we should fuck Y/n.”
His friends looked at him puzzled, doubting if they had heard right. They knew how special you were to Minho, why would he offer something so insane? Or was it a joke?
It was a crazy idea, but in the end, they all agreed.
On the other hand, on the way Minho questioned you if you had felt good and if you had noticed the unhappiness and frustration on his friends’ faces about the marriage, you found it strange because you idealized marriage so much and expected it to be the most sacred thing, hoping that one day you could unite your life forever with his.
๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⸙ ᨒ↟ ⋆。°
And then you were seduced to another weekend in the forest, you were happy as your writing had flowed so naturally and your boyfriend’s gentle proposal filled you with excitement again.
“Let’s go one more time to the cabin, finally without so many people” he mentioned to you spontaneously, while you were tending the garden in autumn as he gave you a resounding kiss on the cheek.
There you were again, but just as you arrived you got the huge surprise that you already had visitors.
“What is this? I thought we would be alone” you said to Minho before getting out of the car.
You weren’t upset just confused by his strange behavior lately.
“Relax, princess. It’s just 3 of my friends, they adore you, come on.”
Minho was quick to get out of the car. It seemed as if Bahng Chan, Hwang Hyunjin and Lee Felix were waiting for you. Again you felt inside you that feeling that they were planning and hiding something you had no idea about.
You greeted them. You tried to be okay but it bothered you that Minho was telling you half the things, or so you felt.
“Hi, Y/n, what do you want to do today?” greeted you sweetly Hyunjin of which you were a bit confused.
Minho gave him a withering look as you both walked towards the entrance. Everyone was nervous but tried to hide it.
“Campfire? Camping? A movie?” added Chan.
“Go to the lake with me” interrupted Felix.
You looked at them strangely because just a week ago your talks were still a bit formal, you didn’t talk much like you could say that with all the confidence, but you didn’t take it badly, you liked them, you saw the kindness of their intentions, or at least you thought so, they were nice men worthy of Minho’s love so, you liked them too.
“No” Minho replied almost annoyed.
“I’m fine, thank you, what can we do Minho?” you asked innocently.
You managed to raise the gazes of the other men, seeing how you sought Minho’s opinion on everything.
They remembered that moment in the backyard of Felix’s house where Minho summoned them when he told them about his crazy idea.
“She's… pretty and submissive, it’s cute, she seeks my approval but honestly I’ll could never be able to say no to her.”
“Too pretty I’d say” Changbin added amused.
Minho gave him a dirty look.
“And she asked you that she wanted to be fucked by 8 guys and you couldn’t say no to her?” joked Seungmin.
“No. It’s not like that, it’s just, it’s something I know.”
“Who in the world asks his friends if they want to gangbang his girlfriend?” provoked Seungmin.
“Shut your mouth, Seungmin, if you don’t want to participate then forget this” Minho spat.
“Oh no, I’m in” he quickly replied scoffing.
The rest of the friends laughed.
“Then why the fuck do you have to…” Minho was about to comment but was interrupted by Felix.
“What do you know, you said you knew something.”
Attention went to the freckled man but once as soon as Minho warmed up his vocal cords to respond, all 7 pairs of eyes focused on him.
“I read something from her, how she’s young and currently has been fantasizing about being with more men because…. shit, I don’t want to stir up your dirty fantasies, but-”
“As if this wasn’t dirty enough already” Jeongin muttered with a grin. Minho continued.
“… I’m the only man she’s been with, she has no other experiences besides me so, I don’t know, it came to my mind to give her more experiences, me, deciding with whom, maybe it’s fear so she won’t go and cheat on me with some idiot I don’t know.”
“Then it’s better that she cheats on you with your idiot friends, how thoughtful” Jisung spoke, joking.
But the idea that you were inexperienced flew in the heads of each of the men, they always wondered how Minho could have you, but now the most important issue for them was that now they could have you too. They were more than delighted.
Eight guys for you alone seemed so aggressive to Minho, so he divided his group of friends, Chan, Hyunjin, Felix and him on Friday; Jisung, Changbin, Seungmin and Jeongin would arrive early tomorrow.
The afternoon went fast. The men were so ready, but you had no idea.
During dinner, somewhat early, you felt Minho’s hand provoke your center under your skirt, caressing your thighs, squeezing your clit. You hadn’t thought about sex until Minho touched you.
Although you had to admit, seeing Chan always turned your cheeks red, because he was the one you fantasized about. Chan was so cute, he had a cute and contagious laugh, his face changed harmoniously every time he smiled, he was attentive, you got to know him a little more at the supermarket, when he had left work and was doing his shopping. But… none of his other friends were bad at all, if you looked at them in detail, it was hard to say you weren’t attracted to at least more than one, or all of them, you felt like a little slut but, you were young and they were handsome men.
After that, you tried to watch a movie, but after 20 minutes they all went outside with the weird excuse of wanting to go get some air, you watched them confused leave and you were just left with your boyfriend, sitting on the couch.
“Uh, it’s going to start raining, they should go inside” you said, suddenly remembering the weather forecast and the sounds of thunder falling recently.
Heavy rain was coming, and not just meteorologically.
“Y/n” Minho spoke softly to you, placing his hand on your bare thigh.
Your attention returned to him, you were turned facing the direction the boys had left a short while ago.
“Yes?”
Minho sighed, nervous, you put your hands on his back worrying immediately, you were about to speak but he said.
“I have this crazy idea, if you don’t want to do it that’s fine. Seriously, we can forget I said it…” you looked at him scared, every faction of his face lit up by the TV as the movie continued to play, “I want you to experiment more, I want you to be free to try other men.”
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, it was as if he had entered your head for a second, you turned pale. Minho looked into your eyes, his eyes were shining, they were bigger and pleading as you looked at him scared.
“You have every right to do it” he continued, “But I don’t want it to be behind my back or with any asshole. If you want to do it, that’s what boys are for.”
You looked at him puzzled.
“What?”
“You don’t want to have sex with other men? Isn’t that what you’ve been fantasizing about? Honey, I’m telling you seriously, you can tell me anything, your every thought and desire and I’ll see about fulfilling every one of them.”
You wanted to scream noo! Logically at those questions, but you kept quiet… how did he know so much? Is it true that after all Minho knows you so perfectly that he could now read your mind?
You bit your lip, your world was spinning thinking about what he was implying that you should have sex with his friends. He was right, you thought, the idea was crazy and you should forget he even said it.
But… was it true? Or were you dreaming?
A loud thunderclap made you a little jumpy. You needed him to be clear.
“Minho, I- … what do you mean?”
“That if you want to try more men and have sex you can do it now. Chan, Felix and Hyunjin are waiting for you” he replied slightly cooler.
You felt a cold breeze hit your skin. If you said yes… you were really going to have sex with them, if you said no, nothing will happen.
“Are you for real?” you replied in disbelief.
“I never joked for a second with you, my baby” he gave you a quick kiss on the lips.
You were perplexed.
“I know it’s hard to think about it, you can take as long as you want…”
“And if I say yes?” you replied uncertainly.
“Then you’re going to have the experiences you wanted so badly.”
The rain came down heavily all of a sudden. The boys went into the house giggling and slightly wet.
Your heart raced, you heard their voices and laughter approach and in the adrenaline of the moment, you responded.
“Yes, okay. I accept.”
Minho squeezed your thigh and smiled at you. The three men entered the room slightly wet with huge smiles plastered to their faces, you made eye contact with each of them and then averted your gaze, thinking that all this time they were here so they could fuck you.
You couldn’t hide the fact that this strange situation excited every part of you, but then you thought that two of them are married, but one of them is Chan, you were going to try him for the first time. You bit your lip, your mind told you that you should feel remorse but you were not the least bit guilty of being Hyunjin and Chan’s mistress for one night.
๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⸙ ᨒ↟ ⋆。°
You prepared yourself. You were nervous, rambling about the situation that you even took a shower, went back to fix your hair and put on makeup. You knew it was just sex but your mind kept thinking about it, not the dirty act but, what it will be like itself.
Minho came into the room. You were ready, you wanted to look your best for the other men waiting for you downstairs.
“Are you sure you want to do this, sweetheart?”
A flash of lightning illuminated the dark forest. You smiled and nodded, letting yourself be escorted by your boyfriend.
Minho turned on the house lights. He set up the main room, pushed aside the small table to leave the spacious carpeted floor space clear.
The three men sat waiting for you, leering and hungry for some of your young skin.
You sighed and Minho led you to the front of them. From left to right, Hyunjin, Chan and Felix. The rain was still echoing outside as you heard your loud heartbeat even in your ears, you were aroused like you had never been before that you were even afraid to tremble from the excitement built up in your body.
Their appearances, the way they were different and sat differently, their respective looks towards you… everything made you shudder.
“Well” Chan spoke, ”can we begin?”
You nodded softly.
“You look beautiful, Y/n, by the way” Felix suddenly blurted out making you blush.
“Rules” warned Minho, ”we won’t do anything she feels uncomfortable about, as soon as she asks to stop or that she doesn’t like something, we listen to her, okay?”
The men nodded.
“She’ll love it” Hyunjin stated with a smile.
“Who do you want to start with, princess?” spoke Minho to you.
The question took you by surprise, Minho saw your innocent confused face.
“Oh… you can start with yourself and, teach us” whispered your boyfriend seductively, tugging at the hems of your sweater to take it off and leave you in your bra.
The thermostat was on in the house, yet you felt a sudden chill on your exposed skin.
Chan and Hyunjin bit their lip, one hand resting on their thighs as they stirred restlessly, uncomfortable from the large erection trapped in their pants. Felix averted his gaze shyly, but then stood in awe watching the spectacle.
You noticed the bulges in each of their crotches and yours began to throb, you thought how dirty it was, fucking four hot men at once, you had never had another experience beyond Minho and now you were going to have three more at the same time. You were wet and restless.
Minho pulled your skirt down, letting it fall gracefully to the floor, leaving you half naked in front of them.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful” Hyunjin murmured, finally stroking his erection.
“Take off her bra” ordered Chan in a thick voice.
You truly felt like a doll, letting yourself be undressed. Minho removed your bra and couldn’t resist the sensation of massaging your breasts with both of his two strong hands. You bit your lip.
“Shit, Minho, don’t touch her yet” Chan complained.
Felix watched you with wide eyes, scared but he was so excited, he wasn't sure if he wanted this, he was a little shy, but as soon as he saw you spread your legs and exposed you to the sun, he was ready to give you a little kiss.“Come here, babygirl” ordered the older one.
Minho slowly let go of you and you obeyed his action by moving closer to him.
“Sit on that end and start touching yourself for us, show us your sweet beauty, baby doll.”
You listened to Chan and watched as he pointed to the edge of the couch, to one side of Felix.
You almost moaned at the sensation of your slick fluids, you were so wet and the manly voice that was ordering you around was making you more and more sick. Felix watched you with wide eyes, scared but he was so excited, he wasn’t sure if he wanted this, he was a little shy, but as soon as he saw you spread your legs and exposed your glistening pussy, his cock throbbed and his mouth salivated, you look so appetizing he wanted to lick you whole.
The four men moaned softly at the sight of your exposed pussy as you pulled the fabric of your panties aside. You leaned back against the armrest of the couch and acting on a voracious instinct for pleasure, you looked down at your exposed intimate area and began to touch yourself, then looked up at the other men.
You massaged your clit, felt your slick and let yourself go, trying to hide your shyness. You watched each of them closely, Hyunjin and Chan’s slitted, piercing eyes, in contrast to Felix’s big, kind eyes, almost as cute as Minho’s, who was standing there watching the show you were giving his friends.
You moaned and closed your eyes letting yourself go, you slipped two of your fingers in and they became engrossed in the softness of your digits sliding into your wet entrance; their limbs ached, asking to be touched, while you enjoyed yourself, thinking that something else might be filling you right now. You quickened your pace without thinking, about to bring yourself to orgasm, but Minho interrupted saying.
“Stop” he walked over to you, squatting down in front of you, ”Kiss me baby, then show the boys how you do it.”
You looked at him confused. You were shaking, a mess, you never thought you would be this excited in your life. You took Minho’s lips who kissed you wildly, leaving you breathless. Then you felt yourself being taken by someone else, you stood in front of Felix and the man kissed you shyly, enjoying the act.
Felix’s lips were a different sensation than Minho’s, his timing, his tongue on you that you lasted some time with him, Felix was not able to control himself with you, he wanted you too much. But suddenly, a big hand grabbing your forearm and pulling you away from the blond boy.
Chan took you with ease to settle you on his lap, sitting right on his erection for your pussy on it, taking your hips, pressing you down as he kissed you sensually and made you grind on his cock. You were breathless, your pussy throbbing hard, again enjoying a different and greater sensation of his erection on you, his hands on your body and his lips and tongue exploring you.
When you came to Hyunjin you felt once again like a toy which was being passed between boys, but Hyunjin did not take you desperately like the rest, he took hold of your hand with which you had been masturbating and brought the fingers you were pleasuring yourself with closer to your entrance, to put them in his mouth and suck them erotically while he looked into your eyes.
“Mmm” said Hyunjin happily with a tender expression of pleasure, “You taste just as I thought, so fucking sweet, baby.”
Finally he took your face between his big slender hands to kiss you, his lips were fuller to the rest, his tongue was slow but skillful, you felt like you were slowly going to heaven.
You had the feeling that you were about to be destroyed.
Chan noticed how lewdly Felix was watching you while you had your moment with Hyunjin, Chan wanted to have some fun, letting the younger one decide first.
“What do you want to do, my little mate?” said Chan amusedly to Felix.
Felix swallowed nervously, looked at Chan and then returned your gaze to you. Felix said in an exquisite thick voice.
“Let me eat her.”
You shuddered. As you pulled away from Hyunjin. Your lips were already swollen, each one of them adoring your tenderly agitated expression.
“Okay” Chan spoke, biting his lower lip and licking them afterwards.
“Babygirl, come here, settle in.”
Chan took you by the hips again and sweetly gestured for you to position your body with your knees on the couch, given the view of your ass to Felix, your torso passing over Chan’s thighs and your face and arms reaching towards Hyunjin.
“Well, enjoy yourselves. You know what to do” you heard your boyfriend say.
You could imagine what this was about and it made you nervously worked up. Felix was the first to expose his cock, you turned your eyes towards him and could see him stroking his exposed member, to pull down your panties and settle in to bury his pretty face in your core, licking your folds and searching for your clit. You moaned as you felt his warm tongue on you and Chan ran his large hand down your bare back enjoying the view, his hand was gentle but it burned in every part he touched you, you were lost in pleasure, you were reaching levels of arousal you never thought you were capable of feeling.
Chan sought your entrance and teased it with his fingers while Felix kept pleasuring himself on your pussy, you began to shudder and lose strength.
“Fuck” muttered Hyunjin excitedly at the pornographic scene of his blond friend licking your pussy and your submissive position.
Hyunjin pursed his lips and released his cock as well. His was right in front of you, it was big, erect, veiny, its pink tip was covered with his white precum. You felt dirty but you loved every second of it.
“Come on, sweetheart, you can take it.”
You stopped looking at his cock to look him in the eyes and then lowered your gaze again. You moistened your lips and took it between your hands, it felt so good, Felix kept stimulating you and Chan started playing with your breasts while still caressing your back and ass, squeezing it hard at times. You licked Hyunjin’s glans and when you opened your mouth wide to take his hard cock fully, Felix thrust his thick tongue inside you, teasing you uncontrollably. You gasped with Hyunjin’s big cock in your mouth, Felix was stimulating the rest of your cunt with his free hand while he couldn't help jerking off.
You were losing your temper, you wanted to explode in your orgasm, but you continued to taste Hyunjin’s cock, licking his entire length, running your lips along it feeling its thin skin and notorious veins, being accompanied by the sweet gasps of that young artist. Hyunjin grabbed your hair, giving you support as you took his shaft, bobbing your head, but you were getting more and more breathless, your eyes began to glisten, you were so close, you were being distracted by the sensation of your nipples being pinched and your breasts being fondled and how very sticky the oral sex Felix was giving you was getting.
“You’re doing it so good princess” Minho’s voice came next to your ear, “You’re so cute taking Hyunjin’s cock so well, good girl.”
Your eyes searched for his image, you were sure your expression was a mess, you didn’t understand how he looked so cute and peaceful as he witnessed the dirty act of his girlfriend’s mouth being filled by his best friend’s dick. It was sick, twisted, it was so fucking hot you had no self-control.
You were collapsing, losing strength, and struggling not to drop your abdomen onto Chan’s thighs. You whimpered with Hyunjin’s cock in your mouth, drooling, with Felix’s tongue inside you and his fingers on your labia and clit, you collapsed in your first climax, making your body quiver. You pulled Hyunjin’s cock out of your mouth for a moment to enjoy your orgasm, took a breath and moaned loudly. Felix felt his hard penis throbbing and in a low moan he cum in his hand as well.
“Aw, baby girl’s first orgasm of the night," Chan spoke tilting his head as he appreciated your trembling body, “Good job, Felix.”
You were weak but skillfully aroused. Your chest was rising and falling with difficulty, you were dizzy between so much pleasure but your mind kept asking that now how would they have fun with you.
He placed you in front of him on his lap again and whispered in your ear:
“Now you’re going to ride daddy’s cock, yes, baby girl?”
His words rocked you. You nodded with big, bright submissive eyes, driving him crazy.
Chan left you in his old place on the couch, stood up and began to undress. Minho plopped down beside you, all watching the little spectacle of the older man undressing.
“Ah, this dude can’t keep his clothes on” Minho commented amused.
You turned to see him, he was also so agitated and excited that you felt bad that you didn’t have him and could attend to him.
When Chan pulled down his pants and boxers to take them off you were engrossed. He was huge. You bit your lip and subtly denied, feeling afraid and insecure, that was going to break you in two, it wasn’t going to fit. But, remembering your boyfriend’s big thick cock there was a good chance you would enjoy it.
“Come here.”
Chan carried you in his arms. You automatically wrapped your legs around his waist, his body was strong, he had big pecs and marked abs. You looked into his eyes… you had never been this intimate and vulnerable with anyone but Minho… now you were being shared with his best friends.
Chan carried you with one arm while his available hand held the base of his erect cock to rub his soft glans on your pussy. You moaned as you were teased and you fliched in surprise.
“Fuck, it’s big” you suddenly blurted out between a sigh, causing a smug giggle to come from Chan, you looked up at him still surprised and blushed.
“You cant take it, babygirl.”
And the next thing you felt was his cock sliding inside you making you whimper. The others watched the act of your body weakening and shuddering as you held tightly to his neck, how your entrance stretched adjusting to Chan’s size as you whimpered louder and louder the deeper he got inside you.
“You feel so good” moaned Chan feeling your walls wrap around his cock completely, “Fuck you Minho, he had all of you to himself?” he mumbled.
His cock slid in easily, you were so wet, you shivered hugging yourself to his neck, resting your face on it, you were as full as you had ever been, slightly fuller than Minho made you, the bulge of his cock was noticeable in your lower belly, Chan came deep inside you, staying a few seconds without moving so your walls could get used to him. “Can I move now, little one?” he whispered sweetly to you.
You nodded quickly, sore but excited, "Yes, please… daddy."
Chan’s ears turned red as he heard you call him daddy and fill him with his fantasies. He grabbed your buttocks and began to control your body over his cock, going up and down slowly, giving them the erotic view of your sensitive hole being penetrated, of his glistening cock thrusting inside you, capturing the arousal of each of you, causing their hands to go to their respective penises and begin to masturbate at the grotesque image of your entrance being abused by Chan’s big cock as you both moaned in pleasure. Even Minho couldn’t take it anymore and pulled his erect cock out to stroke it at the image of your body being absolutely fucked by someone else.
Chan was tearing open every part of you, his pumping cock bouncing into you, his thrusts were gentle, slow and deep, manipulating your body up and down in a sweet rhythm, at that point you were both a mess, your breasts and hard nipples rubbing against his marked pecs as fluids from both of you slid along his cock, trickled out of you onto the floor and stained his sensitive testicles every time you had him deep inside you.
“Shit” gasped Chan, ”Come join in, someone can take her from behind.”
The phrase altered your senses amidst the whimpering mess you were being.
“Is that okay with you, angel?” Chan asked you again breathlessly, “Fuck your beautiful ass?”
You looked him in the eyes, Felix and Hyunjin were already to the side of you with their hands stroking their cocks.
“Y-yes.”
You answered, not sure what could happen. You looked around for Minho with your eyes, he was sitting there watching absolutely everything.
“Good” Chan replied, giving you a tender smile disappearing his lips for a second.
Chan pulled out of you suddenly making you whimper, his cock touched his abs as it was loose. Chan didn’t hesitate, he laid down on the carpet, dropping you down sitting on his cock with your labia between his rigid member.
“This way we’re going to fill you completely,” Hyunjin said.
Chan lifted your body to slip his wet cock between your ass, trying to prepare it before they could enter you that way too. You bit your lip at the sensation, you had long felt the knot in your stomach but you were only prolonging your climax. You became restless and nervous again.
“Fuck, nobody has any lube?” commented Chan somewhat exasperated.
He didn’t want to hurt you, at least he didn’t want Hyunjin to, as he positioned himself behind you and Felix stood in front of you, leaving right in your face the sight of his stiff cock.
“It’s okay, I’ll be gentle” moaned Hyujin, getting on his knees close to Chan’s thighs.
Chan pushed you gently and you quickly understood it was to take his cock again, he lined it up with your entrance as you slowly let yourself fall on top of him, causing you to sigh. You shuddered as you felt Hyunjin’s tip moisten your rear area, rubbing his precum, he parted your buttocks with his hands digging into your skin and entered gently, making you scream louder than Chan’s penis in your vagina.
You whimpered, closing your eyes tightly and biting your lip as the male presences took guilty delight in your suffering. Hyunjin moaned in ragged gasps at the extremely tight sensation of your conduit.
You held yourself tightly in Chan’s abs, whimpering each time you felt his cock deeper in you. You had never had anal sex before and it was burning like hell itself, but the lust in your body was greater than your pain.
“Is it okay, baby doll, are you liking it?” whispered Hyunjin slightly concerned.
“Yes” you whimpered.
Hyunjin was also big and within moments, you were being penetrated on both sides.
"Move slowly, Hyun, let her adjust a little" cautioned Chan.
They both began to move in you leaving you hoarse and breathless, Chan lifting his pelvis and pounding your pussy while Hyunjin buried himself into you, they started slow but their pace gradually increased, leaving you with the most unique experience you were ever going to forget. Chan held you firmly by the hips and Hyunjin squeezed your right buttock with his hand while another hand played naughtily with your breasts.
Then you looked at the blond boy’s genital area, his stubble pubic area with tiny freckles on it, you were transfixed, thinking how uniquely beautiful Lee Felix was, you looked into his eyes before taking his cock and did your best to please him while two of your holes were being completely filled and used.
Your movements on his cock were imperfect due to the constant pounding of Chan and Hyunjin against your body that was driving you crazy. But Felix didn't stop panting, he loved it, he stroked your hair more delicately to how Hyunjin took you a few moments ago. You felt dirty, used and aroused, all your possible entrances occupied and each of them dripping in some fluids, your cheeks were shiny from the little tears shed. You were on the verge of collapse again, once again, your body could no longer hold it in.
On the other hand, Minho smiled happily, happy that lust won on that rainy night, he was in glee at the dirty image of your little body destroyed among men, he was as happy and excited as a young hormonal boy discovering his favorite porn. He was happy to have been able to fulfill your fantasies.
Chan babbled things that left you in the clouds, the moans of the three of them set fire inside you and the situation again seemed like a dream, a very dirty one.
Each of the best friends were enjoying it like they had never experienced sex before, everything was full of lust and passion, a sweet young woman at the beck and call of the pleasures and dark fantasies of men in search of forbidden sansations.
You pulled Felix’s cock out as you felt it quiver in your mouth and happily let him cum on your tongue. You became somewhat foolishly confused letting yourself be carried away by Chan and Hyunjin’s thrusts and whimpered again letting yourself release in the most intense and long lasting orgasm. You wanted to collapse in surrender, but both men continued on you some more until moaning and cumming hard inside you.
“Good girl-” Chan mumbled.
“Fuck, she’s full of cum now” Hyunjin smiled happily.
They both pulled out of you to contemplate the collapse of your twitching muscles expelling their glistening semen.
You finally felt yourself breathing, you thought you had tachycardia, you were out of your senses waiting to recover. You saw Minho approach you, again with his cock sheltered in his pants, with a calm expression and suddenly he carried your weak and naked body in his strong arms, you breathed in his scent and saw him with some embarrassment with your already flustered face.
“You did very well my princess. I love you” he whispered and gave you a tender kiss on your forehead, “Do you want to try something new tomorrow?”
Your boyfriend carried your exhausted body to the warm bathtub that he had already prepared, taking care of you after the unexpected night you had.
๋࣭⭑๋࣭⸙ᨒ↟ ⋆。°
The next morning you didn't know how to act. It was strange, but the first thing you saw when you came downstairs were Minho's other friends at the entrance, Yang Jeongin, Kim Seungmin, Han Jisung and Seo Changbin. You greeted them shyly with a smile, as it was obvious what awaited you next as soon as night fell.
You went to the kitchen, where you heard voices, finding the men who saw you naked and vulnerable a couple of hours ago, the same ones responsible for each of your sighs and pleasure that crazy, rainy night. Everyone sat down to breakfast but it was obvious that the main course they wanted was you right now.
Chan, Hyunjin and Felix left in the afternoon, confusing you, but you quickly realized it was someone else's turn. None of them wanted to lose you from the spotlight, but just four of them got away with it.
Just when you were alone, in the quiet of the balcony reading a book, not paying attention and with your mind spinning trying to process what the fuck was going on; Minho went with Chan to buy you some birth control pills at the town pharmacy because you had forgotten yours and that was the perfect time for the four of them to take you and lure you into a little game.
They told Minho before they left you, “We'll take care of her.” Minho wasn't stupid and knew of the high probability that they would end up fucking you without him being there, which annoyed the hell out of him, but he would see a way to arrange it, that night.
“Want to play baseball?”
That sentence from Seungmin was a total lie and you knew it, still you followed him into the woods, in an area far away from the house, not only him, but the three other guys followed him too.
“Shit, Seungmin, do you know where we are?” mentioned Jisung annoyed.
Seungmin innocently looked around and stopped in his tracks.
“This is the place.”
Everyone remained silent.
“Oh no, we're lost,” Jeongin added dejectedly in jest.
The four of them watched you, again with leering and hungry looks, you wondered for a second... why you had to follow them there, but it wasn't as if your legs were moving on their own.
“Isn't that right, little one? You're lost but you have the good fortune that four kind men will help you get home, only if you obey and thank us, or we could help each other.”
Your breath shortened, you understood Changbin's dirty game perfectly. You saw Jisung, Seungmin and Jeongin, then turned your focus back to the closeness of Changbin and his strong grip on your waist.
“And how will I ever be able to thank you?”
Changbin flashed a half smile, “Just be a good girl and obey our directions so you can get home.”
You nodded, “Kiss Jisung, he's waiting for you” he softly ordered you.
Jisung opened his eyes in fright once you approached him, surprised that he is the one you were going to initiate with. You kissed him, letting yourself be carried away by the sensations of other lips on yours and in the heat of things, the excitement and pleasure traveled fast in your bodies, you were being fucked by Seungmin and his long cock while doing your best to give a good blowjob to Jisung who was holding on to your body, as both of your hands were busy masturbating Changbin and Jeongin, whose long and nimble digits found a way to play with your clit.
It was a very different baseball game than how you thought.
But your actions had consequences. There you were, in a different pleasure session very distinct from last night, this time Minho was part of it, no longer being sweet and attentive to you, he was spanking your ass hard, forcing you to confess everything you did in the woods with his friends in the afternoon, until you were sore, your ass burning with pain and your eyes shining. His friends enjoyed the spectacle of the game of your pleasure and suffering.
“Take her, guys” Minho said coldly and pushed your body, not so exaggerated but you didn't put up any kind of resistance so he almost threw you. Seungmin came closer to you,
“See? You're nothing but just a fucking slut desperate for some sex. Isn't that so? Look how fucking needy you are.”
His words turned you on, it was the disdainful tone he used and the annoyed expression on his tender face, plus he suddenly started to finger you.
“Should we take turns...? I wanna fuck her” Jisung commented somewhat confused causing Minho to let out an unexpected giggle.
“I'll go first.”
You sighed as you listened to Changbin and let him take your body to the couch, moaning at the pain in your ass at the slightest rub. He spread your legs apart and began to taste your center, rolling your eyes.
“You're rewarding her that way and I think it was clear what a bad girl she was” Seungmin said.
Changbin pulled away from your pussy just at the sweetest moment, controlled your body with ease, turned your body quickly and started to fuck you hard making you squeal.
“Right, you're a little whore” Changbin moaned, spanking you harder on your already red and hurting ass.
You whimpered in pain but his thick cock felt so good around your walls.
“Fuck you, Changbin” Jeongin expressed somewhat frustrated.
Everyone took Jisung's idea, the next one inside you was Jeongin who pulled on your hair as he penetrated you in a delicious pace, the next one was Seungmin, who kept spanking your ass and his body slammed into yours at every deep thrust. And the last one was Jisung, he flipped your body as he fantasized about the movement of your tits while he fucked you hard, he was the one who left you the most breathless and the only one who managed to cum in you.
The others unloaded their cum on your chest as they vigorously pulled their cocks, making you feel dirty and humiliated, but it was something new that you liked.
๋࣭⭑๋࣭ ⸙ ᨒ↟ ⋆。°
Sunday night was the high point of that crazy weekend that seemed to have no end. All it took was telling Minho:
“Why did you split up your friends? On you-know-what…”
“I thought eight guys was absurd.”
“Maybe it's not at all.”
And there you were, naked with eight needy, stiff cocks eager for you. The best part, was the men who carried it. You adored seeing their distinct and attractive faces and bodies begging for you, from the sensations they were giving you.
This time all eight of them were naked, looking so intimidating waiting for the next move. You were a helpless little deer in the woods, surrounded and in the sights of hungry beasts.
Hyunjin was the first to approach you, putting on a show for his friends as his mouth feasted on your breasts and his hand worked fast on your core, then his hand focused mainly on your clit as Jeongin's fingers were sunk deep into you after Hyunjin had happily invited him.
You slowly watched the silhouette of everyone approaching between your blurred vision due to the high level of libido in you and your body trembled in excitement, trying to think in what way they would make your body enough for each of them.
You were still in awe, not understanding the reason that brought you there, but just enjoying and letting yourself be carried away by the lust of the moment. But you had no idea that it was all caused by the domino effect of Minho's curiosity that led him to read your diary that night.
꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦ ꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦
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lmk if u want to be added for more kinktober, or if i omitted u oopsi, and pls have an age indicator! also I can’t tag some u :p but there’s ur username w luv
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