#he loves talking about them and even praising all his rivals

[strawberryshortcake1495]

Some Little Dipper AU headcanons 🩷

(design is by @dontmixpaintinyourcoffee)

1: In the Inconveniencing, Mabel ends up getting genuinely pissed off when the teenagers make fun of Dipper for being a “baby”. Like, she knows he’s a sweet baby boy but the way they say it is way too condescending. She realizes she’s had enough. She goes off on everyone (except Wendy) before grabbing Dipper’s arm and telling him they’re leaving. Dipper refuses to leave and snaps, telling her she’s always doing this to him and that he’s not her baby brother anymore. He rips his arm away from her and lays down, summoning the ghosts. He ends up saving her in the end though, but he never apologizes. 

2: Pacifica is still 12 in this AU but she sees Mabel as her rival because of her beauty. Mabel just sees the kid as a sweet admirer and is always super friendly with her as if she were a celebrity and Pacifica was her #1 fan. Pacifica thinks her kindness is sarcastic and hates it. She learns to reciprocate it after NWMM, though. Mabel and Pacifica have kind of a big sister/little sister relationship. 

3: Instead of Mabel being obsessed with boys, boys are obsessed with her because she’s nice and pretty. Dipper has to deal with boys coming to the shack to flirt with his sister, and Stan eventually gets them out with The Broom. Gideon is one of these boys, but he’s still 10 here so all his romance attempts are just laughable. Mabel doesn’t take him seriously and that leads him to do drastic things to earn her love.

4: Dreamscapers is about Dipper, Soos, and Stan going into Mabel’s mind. That is where Dipper learns about Mabel’s childhood. From the day he was born all the way to now. He feels pretty guilty for praising her childhood “maturity”, now knowing she never asked to raise a baby at 3 years old. Stan also shows that he genuinely cares for Dipper in this episode by giving him a pep talk after he and Dipper see a not-so fun memory. When they’re back in the real world, Dipper begins to slowly slip back into his childhood habits, learning that if he wants to be mature, he should learn how to be himself first. That means accepting all the things that make him Dipper Pines, even the embarrassing ones. 

[verdemint]

I love how talking about all his rivalries vale is so proud! He loves all of them and im pretty sure in his head him and the other rider had a kinda silent agreement about the rivalry, like oh he must want this rivalry as much as i want it! We’re doing it to motivate each other and people are gonna love this!

Hes always saying how this type of rivalries is what brings people to the sport, cause he makes you want to support one or the other. Obviously were the other riders aware of this implicit agreement and okay with it for the enjoyment of the viewer? Ahhhh maybe not really.

But vale knows and adores all his rivals and when he talks about them hes always got that false modesty, like you dont have to thank me, motogp fan, i know I brought you so much fun and joy with this little rivalry of mine

[maxlarens]

Driver!reader and oscar starting the race from p1&p2 and before they put their helmets and stuff they kiss one last time on the grid and people go like "awwwww" because it was somehow filmed

i feel like u sent this in to be like a concept or something but I HAD to write it. i’ve been writing for lando so much lately i’ve very much been missing oscar + driver!reader. plus i’ve not ever written them in an established relationship before!

It’s not like you and Oscar are a secret.

It might have been easier that way, to keep your relationship from the public’s prying eyes, but it’s not really your style. It’s not Oscar’s either.

Being public comes with its problems— questions from the media, awkward interviews, your respective PR teams going a little buck wild, extra contracts and NDAs to sign— but it also has its benefits.

You like be able to talk about him, like being able to call him your boyfriend. ‘Oscar Piastri, the driver for McLaren? Yeah, that’s my boyfriend’. You like hearing him say things about you, praise your driving skills, talk about you as a rival and as his girlfriend. It’s all you can do to stop grinning like a madwoman whenever you’re in his vicinity. You equally like that the press can’t comment meaningfully on it, can’t speculate wildly about the nature of your relationship when you’ve made it clear.

Some people hate it. They think you’re a silly little girl with her head full of romantic notions. No room for skill, for ruthlessness. Which is funny, given that Oscar receives only praise for “bagging you”. You think they’re just jealous; if not of the fact that Oscar’s dating you and not them, then of your duality. The way you can love Oscar wholeheartedly and also race Oscar wholeheartedly.

They’re not mutually exclusive in your experience.

Naturally, there’s a massive buzz about you and Oscar being P1-P2 on the starting grid.

You’re not particularly surprised. The MCL’s had been performing well all through practice, just as you and Lewis had. You pull out pole in quail, fastest Q1 and Q2, with Oscar hot on your tail. There’s a barrage of bizarre questions in the media pen,

Do you think Oscar’s grid position will impact your performance during the race? Why would it?

Will this affect your relationship with Oscar? No.

What happens if one of you wins and the other doesn’t? The same thing that happens every time anyone wins ever?

You’re confused by it. Bordering on snarky and sarcastic the fifth time someone asks if you and Oscar might break up over this. Rolling your eyes, thinking your true feelings are obvious, you tell some Italian journalist that yeah no we might break up if he doesn’t let me win.

It’s funny, objectively it’s hilarious. You and Oscar laugh over it later that afternoon. Send the clip to a group chat you’re in with a few drivers closer to your age. And so what if it’s still funny when clickbait articles and gossip sites start saying that the two of you have broken up.

There’s even more buzz about it by the morning of the race. Journalists you’ve already talked to have suddenly become convinced that you and Oscar are on the rocks. You can’t help but play into it a bit— partially for the benefit of your PR team— arriving separately, forgoing the couple snap that you usually grace Kym Illman with, giving vague no-comment answers when the media accost you.

Maybe it’s a little childish, a little dramatic. But it serves them right for jumping to conclusions.

You avoid any presenters on the grid walk, sinking into the protective circle made by your engineers. Staying behind the roped off areas until about 10 minutes to race start when you finally hop over the MCL in P2.

Oscar’s drinking water, looking smug when you push through McLaren engineers, so used to your continued presence that they let you in with ease.

“Hey,” you greet, reaching out to smooth the collar of his fireproofs, “How’s it goin’?”

“Mm,” he hums, cutting a glance behind you, which you take to mean that there are cameras trained on the two of you, a reporter trying to get your attention maybe, “I’d be better if I was on pole.”

You hiss mockingly, “Yeah, too bad. You gonna break up with me about it?”

He raises an eyebrow, lashes brushing his cheekbones as he looks down at you, “I didn’t know you read F1 gossip sites?”

You shrug in response, “Don’t need to. The media make enough noise about it.”

He hums again, smile pulling at his mouth while someone from Mercedes shouts at you to get back. Rachel probably. You should go, you really should. But Oscar’s so close and so cute in those black fireproofs.

“Good luck,” you say,

leaning forward to kiss him, hand on the back of his head. A slip of tongue, not so much to be publicly obscene, but enough to leave him wanting,

“You’ll need it.”

You hear the sweet sound of him laughing as you slip away, back to where your car is sitting on pole. Ignoring the reporter dogging at your heels for a comment you don’t really need to give.

like maybe unrealistic. who cares!

[incidentallysunny]

Through The Skin

Real Uncle!Leon

Dead dove warning.

7k word count. Proof read lightly. Critique is welcomed and my skin is thick for it.

I'd like to appear in the tagz pls so here's a warning. My writing is not ever meant to be taken literally and is just for the sake of writing fxcked up content that I enjoy writing. If you do not wish to read this, please do not as my intentions are not to offend or make you intentionally uncomfortable but if you choose to read- don't be hateful. With that out of the way, extremely sensitive content and dead dove material ahead.

Specifically blood-related incest, smut, suicidal ideation, mentions of grotesque imagery, light mentions of gore in a hypothetical scenario, age-gap, overall just some disturbing topics.

As far as smut specifically: this includes talking of public sex, public female oral-recieving, Leon has dick piercings surprise, make and female oral, fingering, unprotected sex, cream-pie (wrap your willy irl pls) praise, dirty talk, spitting, any probably some other irrelevant shit I'm forgetting my bad.

PROCEED if you read the above, are okay with it, and are mentally unwell like I am. Happy reading, it's a long one.

To be quite frank, you didn’t give a shit about a single holiday party that your parents threw. Having to hug and touch on people you didn’t even know, putting on a fake smile and pretending as if you remembered them at all. Exhausting for a young woman to keep up this charade for so long. You’re sure your relatives noticed the dying spark in your eyes over time. Living Growing does that to a person. You spent all night fetching beers and other pre-packaged, alcoholic drinks- hoping he would show up every time you had to hand one out. Still one less face you’re can be enthralled to see.

You sat at the dining table, leaned onto an elbow with your face in your palm. Clearly a dejected and annoyed pose but everyone here was too cheery or already deep in the ‘special occasion’ wine bottle to even piece that together. Your other hand traced the ringed patterns in the wood surface, wondering how old it had been before it was chopped down ruthlessly by some hot guy with a chainsaw who was getting paid way too much to be fucking up nature left and right. All so that some college-aged girl could sit at the furniture it had been made into and sulk. God, an almost 40 year old tree. That’s pretty fucking old. You’re glad it lived a somewhat long life (in human years, not tree years.) ‘Cause some trees live a few hundred or even thousand years. So maybe it was taken too soon before it became the placeholder for your familial drunken talks. While you were distracted, annoyed, and pitying yourself, the table all erupted into ‘Hey, long time no see!’s , laughter, and other delightful sentiments that were jolly and deafening enough to make you jump. Loud noises weren’t your thing.

Before you could regain your composure and turn your torso in the hand-carved, deep-brown varnished chair- a hand graced the presence of your slumped shoulder.

“Hey, babydoll. Long time no see.” The voice greeted, husky and rough like a patch of concrete you’ve definitely scraped your knee on a time or two. Basically, it was familiar, which is what you’re getting at.

Uncle Leon.

You turned your full body now, swinging your legs to the side of the seat- a few laughs slopped from the table.

Everyone knew how much you loved and fawned over your Uncle- your dad rivaling how much you seemed to prefer his brother over him. Well duh, dad. It’s because he’s fun and you’re a hard-ass. And ugly to look at. Your poor, poor mom.

It had been years since you saw your uncle. Since you were freshly 18, to be exact. Your dad wasn’t too keen on having him around his barely-legal daughter- probably because he could practically smell it on you that you want your uncle to pop your cherry. You still remembered his few quirks, too. He was always sloppy yet casually drunk wherever he was, he hated fireworks (due to PTSD as your dad explained), and he had always been known to be grabby with people- probably because of the alcohol. He was a weird guy, but you loved him all the same. It broke the normalcy of your home and made things interesting to be around him. However- none of this was the focus. His stubble, dark-liquored bags under his eyes that almost resemble eyeliner, and dark-tinted hair were. And god, his chin. Could be a replacement for a Sybian, if you had one. All of that aside, he looks sexy. That’s so fucking weird to say about your dad’s brother, but calling it weird is also so outdated. Fucking your hot, middle-aged uncle is in; getting a boyfriend your age is out.

You stood up swiftly, hugging him tightly around the waist and almost toppling him. He chuckled, steadying himself with one arm around your back and the other on the table to catch himself. Once he felt he was steady enough, the other arm joined around you- the embrace squeezing you like a stress ball. You worried that your eyes might be a little more loose in your skull than before.

“Gotta be careful, kiddo. You’re gonna take down your uncle one of these days.” He teases, moving out of the hug and letting his hands explore their way down your back- resting on the small of it. Digits perched like a bird where your back starts to curve into your ass- not sweetly or gentle- but like one of those huge-taloned hawks that would rip your flesh off. You only say that because his hands are big and rough- and you’ve heard stories of what your uncle does for work (plus the alcohol is making him need to stabilize himself so he doesn’t crash you both into the nearby counter and cause any serious brain injury. At least then you could excuse the bubbling of strange feelings as TBI). Oh, and with how handsy he was known to be (Just ask your Aunt Claire on your mom’s side). But he had never been that way with you- not until now.

You see your dad eyeing him like the same kind of big-taloned hawk from across the table. They’re cut from the same feathers- except your dad must have been the one that never learned to fly. Pushed out of the nest by a sharp shove of a beak and bit every branch of the ugly tree on the way down. Cause he’s a lot weaker and uglier than your uncle. How he pulled your mom is a miracle and a mystery.

“Hey, uh. Honey. Come sit back down. No need in playing into your uncle’s fashionably late, drunken stupor.” He quips towards you while grilling Leon about being late, nursing his own drink with that ugly grin. You roll your eyes. Leon removes his hands from you- putting them up in defense of himself and leaving your back with an empty feeling.

“Hey, hey. Just hugging my beautiful niece.” He turned to address you again. “Been years since I’ve seen you, sweetheart. Look even better than your momma.” You feel a blush creep up at Leon’s words, but your dad clears his throat and your mom pays him no mind. Just an eye roll and sip of a wine cooler. To be honest, even she probably fucked your uncle. You couldn’t blame her if she did.

You huff and sit back down, crossing your arms. Your dad always had to ruin everything. If you fuck your uncle or kiss him or whatever and don’t like it, you can just go to therapy. Leon snickered behind you, patting your shoulder before leaning in next to your ear.

“Come join me out on the deck in a bit. I’m sure you’re tired of being smothered in here with the fun police.”

You feel muggy from his words. Like a Louisiana swamp type muggy. Is your hair sticking to you? Are there zika-virus bearing mosquitos pricking you or is that just undiagnosed anxiety?

You bounce your leg under the table while you hear the sliding door open and close in the distance. Minutes pass of you twiddling your thumbs- and you excuse yourself to sneak off- exiting out the same heavy sliding door that Leon used.

When you sealed it behind you- the smell of whiskey filled your nostrils- sizzling off any hairs that your nose so proudly grew for much needed germ-protection. A hand slapped itself gracelessly onto the glass above you in the dark, trapping you in place. Predictable uncle.

“Shit, sorry sweetheart. Lost my footing. Y’know how it is. I’m always taking spills here and there.” You felt giddy and blistered all over, speaking back to him.

“S’okay. Sorry about dad.” You excused, breathing in. Leon’s other hand patted you low on your hip as he chuckled into your ear- sending off more whiskey breath.

“It’s okay, sweet thing. Your dad can be that way. I’m not exactly safe to be around in his eyes. Besides, he’s just doing his job- looking out for his little girl.” He explains, not making any efforts to move. You predicted this- but it wasn’t unwelcome.

“Why’s that?” You dare to ask, sounding purposefully puzzled- but Leon knows better. And you know the answer.

“It’s ‘cause your Uncle likes ‘em young and pretty.” He mulls the information over you, the words sliding down you like a vibration that sets off a perfect sensation to your already throbbing clit. Because you’re always horny. The hand on your hip now kneads your ass under your skirt- somehow getting there without notice.

“O-oh.” You choke on the word like it’s quicksand in your throat- but only the quicksand is the prospect of having your uncle plow you until you develop early onset dementiaSo really, the quicksand isn’t bad in this instance. You jump into it face first for a good mouthful.

“Shouldn’t be wearing something so short when you know your dirty old uncle is coming over. Can’t keep my eyes where they’re supposed t’be.” He mutters low, leaning down to tickle the shell of your ear with his voice.

“Knew you were coming over. I wanted to look pretty for you.” Saying it makes your head spin, but like in the good way. The sound Leon makes is between a groan that says ‘good god, I’m going to bury my cock inside you right the fuck now’ and ‘I figured as much’. A simple cocktail of horniness and knowing.

“Mm, just want to kiss you everywhere, you know? Love it how sweet you are.” He murmurs into your scented hair, using the hand from the wall to push aside any strands that are in his way. He kisses the back of your neck and his breath scorches your skin. The affection is sloppy and leaves small bits of saliva behind, his barely-darting-out tongue making you ache even more.

“U-uncle.” You shuddered, a slight protest to your voice. Not ‘cause you don’t like it but because you’re worried someone will see. Or that you’ll never want off of his dick. He can be your personal IUD, all buried in your cervix.

Leon ignored the shared thought that someone could see because the way you referred to him made his dick jump in his jeans. Plus, the whole family knows he’s a sleeze. They’d see him balls deep in you and say ‘Ah, that’s Leon for you’ And look the other way until his next sexual prospect. One of the many reasons that Aunt Claire doesn't visit and Aunt Ada divorced his ass. Her loss. You’d happily share him if it were you. It’s only right to share a man that looks like a washed-up pornstar. His dick is great too. Not ‘cause you’re guessing- but because you saw it one time. Last time you saw him actually- the whole incident that left you wanting to see him again oh-so-badly. He had stumbled in the bathroom to piss- ignoring you at the sink. It’s whatever, he was totally wasted and probably didn’t see you. Nor did he probably see the fact you were gawking at his big dick. Or his nice ass, cause he had let his pants drop completely in his hazy state.

“Mm, what is it, babydoll? Hey- Think anyone’d notice if I fingered this sweet little pussy right now?” His voice cut through your memory and thick, long fingers teased the swell of your pussy lips through your underwear, making your hips contract with excitement. Your breath fans over the glass and smogs it.

“I don’t know- maybe.” You huff, trying to keep your composure. It sure is fucking hard when God’s gift to women is about to finger-fuck you at your parent’s house with 20 or so family members inside the property. You second guess yourself now. Maybe God's gift to women doesn’t go around playing with a pussy that belongs to their niece. Or maybe God was fed up with some girls missing out so he created sexually-attractive uncle’s to even any scores. You’ll be attending church this upcoming Sunday. Not because you’re going to follow through with blood-related fornication but because you want to thank the higher-ups properly for this fine piece of ass you’re about to receive from. Or maybe you shouldn’t step foot there, the whole ‘bursting into flames for egregious sinning’ type thing. Wait a minute- there’s literally daddy-daughter incest in the Book of Genesis, so you’ll happily sin away and tell god to fuck off while doing it. Okay maybe that’s a little uncalled for.

Leon tugged your panties to the side, breathing shakily.

“Fuck. I gotta see it, baby.” He mumbles, dropping to one knee with the other bent and still supporting the front of him. Underwear aside, he uses his hands to spread you out- taking in the sight of your damp folds. Damp is putting it lightly. His thumb collects some of your slick and he nearly cums right there.

“You save your first time for me?” He questions. In his mind, you’ve already had a dick or two. He can work with that. Those little guys your age don’t match up to him, but he’s blindsided when you whine about being a virgin, begging him to stick it in or something. Now, Leon’s not the greatest guy morally. At all. But if he’s going to pop your pussy like a soda cap for the first time, he’s going to do it in private cause he’s not stopping for anything. And privacy allows just that. Again- it’s not about it being special, just private. He’ll turn you out good and well.

“Sorry sweetheart. I wanna fuck this needy hole when it’s just us. Think you can wait?” He asks, before darting his tongue out to taste you and lapping up any of you that’s continuously dripping out from pent-up arousal. Your knees almost buckle and he puts his hands under the curve of your ass to hold you still. Your brain goes so mushy you almost forgot to respond.

“Y-yes, uncle Leon.” You whine like a pathetic puppy- begging for something that it didn’t need. But actually, you did need your uncle’s dick so badly. He laughs against your cunt, seemingly happy with that answer. Before you can properly nut like you want, you see your dad pass by in the distance of the sliding door. You tap the glass gently to alert Leon with a small series of clicks. He shoots his head up, yanking your panties back into place and using the sleeve of his leather jacket to wipe his mouth.

“Fuck- always such a blue-balling asshole for anyone, I swear. Sorry, pretty girl.” He smooths down your hair, making sure you look presentable. Well- besides your face that’s red enough to be used as a lit flare.

“Go inside. I’m sure he’s looking for you, babydoll.” He grabs you drunkenly by the upper arm, pulling you in to kiss you on the cheek.

“Come by mine sometime. I’ll be home, for once.” He mutters the last part, loosening his hold on you and starting down the steps of the deck.

“Okay. I’ll see you later, Uncle Leon.” You sound so disappointed and miserable. Pouty. Leon gets it.

“Later, babydoll.”

He heads down the path of the backyard and through the connecting gate that leads to the driveway, the sound of his motorcycle’s engine revving is the cue that he’s definitely headed off.

You let yourself back in, acting inconspicuous. But your dad is already waiting with crossed arms. Yuck.

“Did I not tell you several times about hanging around your uncle. He’s a weird guy. I don’t mind him coming over but, god.” He lays into you, mostly just insulting his brother. You roll your eyes as you normally do. You’ve never not had an attitude with your father. He was born to be shit on in your eyes- barely deserved your mom, as is. Besides, He had no backbone whatsoever.

“Just go upstairs.” He asked, cause he never told you to do anything. Just asked and hoped you’d listen. You were pleased enough to have gotten as much as your uncle tonguing your cunt, so you can comply a bit longer. You go upstairs to your room, shutting the door and lying down.

—

It’s a week later when you finally get to see your uncle. You managed to convince your dad to let you borrow his car, ‘cause you’re a broke college student and can’t afford that right now. Plus you’re spoiled but not enough for a car, apparently. Whoops. Probably because your dad knows as soon as he signs the papers, you’re going to drive to his brother’s house and impale yourself on his dick for life. He’d rather you go to college and get a train ran on you or something, at least.

You hoped you had remembered the right place at first, until Leon’s motorcycle was spotted in the lot. Good, he’s home. You still questioned your memory as you were walking up the flights of stairs in the apartment building, tugging down the back of your skirt when you felt it was airing out your ass too much (for any passerbys, not Leon). After reaching the 12th floor and navigating the scarily clean hallway (the few decorations in the area made it less horror-esque), you found the right (?) door. Your knock was soft because again, you weren’t entirely sure. Just going off of childhood memories.

After hearing a shuffle inside, it didn’t take long for it to swing open, Leon standing in the doorway shirtless with a pair of grey, thin sweatpants loose on his hipbones. His v-line was saying hello to you. Hello to you, too.

“Pretty girl! Hey! Thought you’d never come by. Sorry about the attire- been having a lazy day since I’m off work.” He moved aside for you to come in, the door shutting behind you when you accepted the unspoken invitation. His place was nice. A little cluttered with a half-packed suitcase; clothes messily thrown on top and some paperwork and a passport in a heap on the desk nearby, but still nice. Not to mention spacious. Thank god.

“It’s okay, really. You deserve some relaxation time, you know?” You try to be cool and collected- not getting to the main point of your visit. Even if you did have genuine interest in your uncle as a person.

“Isn’t that the truth? Want a drink?” He asked, already walking towards his kitchen. You don’t immediately reply because the sway of his ass is… something else, but you manage to snap yourself from the hypnotizing gaze of it. He’s got a whiskey glass and bottle already on the counter, waiting for a reply.

“Sure.” You tell him, knowing damn well you can’t handle your alcohol. You get all fucking lovey and touchy, and you’ve only drank like 3 times. And sure. You did come here to fuck him, but you were nervous. Okay, never mind. That gives a complete need for liquid courage.

He makes his way to the hallway- switching something on the AC control before sitting on the couch, adjacent from the chair you’re nestled in. You’re taking small sips of the whiskey, burning your throat, sinuses, and any nervousness down like a forest fire. Leon just sits, legs splayed apart like how men always sit. Except you can see his fat-ass dick print. God, kill me now. Or after I’ve sucked it, at least. You see, too, what looks like indents in the fabric- piercings maybe? Or the folds of the pants are sitting weird.

“Did you find the place okay?” He asks, coming off like he cares- which he does- but he’s mostly waiting to get you and himself sloppy for fucking so he’s just stalling now.

You nod, bottom lip tucked into your mouth- if you talk it’s going to be about his dick being huge or his dick being inside you. Leon allows you another deep sip, finishing off the liquid completely.

“I actually remembered how to get here just about perfectly.” You spoke, laughing a little. Yeah, you’d be gone completely in a few minutes. You already felt yourself slipping into a hazy, bubbly state. Leon could tell, too. Good for him. He loved when the girl was sloppier than the pussy attached to her.

“Smart girl. Always have been.” He took a long, heavy drink- finishing off his glass. You watched how his stomach twitched or moved even the slightest when he adjusted himself, the same with his arms. He was muscular yet lean- like he didn’t eat enough some days. Figures. Beauty isn’t easy and he looked good, and maybe that’s why he got plastered all the time so easily. No appetite=no tolerance. However, you were most certainly not afraid to look at the hard work. Even more so with alcohol brewing in your stomach acid and then liver.

Leon patted his leg, fingers drumming on the material of his sweatpants.

“Come sit. You can tell me more about it on your uncle’s lap.” Gross. Gross in the hot way. The gross-hot way you want him to fold and twist you like a pretzel. So no, you don’t abhor the idea of sitting in his lap.

You don’t even hesitate, standing and nearly falling over- realizing you forgot how wobbly your legs could get while inebriated. Leon reached forward to grab your hand and waist, letting you fall directly onto his lap, ass to crotch. Like a puzzle piece. An incestual puzzle piece- which ideally shouldn’t fit together but it just does.

You feel his cock twitch under you; he’s anticipated this, obviously. His hands slid up your thighs, and down again, then back up- like he’s appreciating them.

“Got the prettiest legs, baby. Want them on your uncle’s shoulders, don’t you?” He cooed, scooting you to the edge of his lap just enough to get his cock out of his bottoms. You turn to look behind you, twisting yourself a bit to get a look at it. Christ. One, he was big. The kind of dick that couldn’t stand ‘cause it was heavy and long. Two. It had a few piercings down the front of his shaft, gleaming in the light. So not only were you about to take your first dick, but a pierced one (like you had suspected). Okay…you didn’t remember seeing those the only other time you ever saw his dick by accident. New additions.

Leon stroked your hair with the hand that wasn’t holding his dick.

“Trust me, feels a lot better than it looks. I promise it doesn’t hurt. Even for virgins.” He adds, like he knows that for a fact. “Nothing you can’t handle for me.”

Okay, he’s right. You’d take his fist if it meant his approval, honestly. How bad could it be?

You move to spin yourself around on his lap, Leon’s amused at your eagerness. He holds his cock, spitting down onto it so he can stroke himself while he puts a hand onto your neck. You’re pulled by the hold into a slow, messy, spitty kiss. He’s definitely experienced, as you are not. His tongue makes its way against yours like he’s silently teaching you how to kiss him open mouthed. Not so hard, you think. He groans into your mouth as he handles himself, maneuvering his cock to brush against your underwear; prodding your clothed clit under your skirt.

You mewl against his lips which only spurs him to kiss you a little more rough now, assuming you’re ready for it. Which you definitely don’t mind. His hand squeezes the side of your neck affectionately, a thumb tracing the skin. You’re thankful you’re in his lap because your knees are weak and your head feels dizzy. It was an exchange of sighs and heavy breathing- no distance. Your hands tangled into his dark locks which is something that Leon loved; having his hair pulled (you could tell by his lusty growl and the shift of his hips). He truly was the epitome of a kinky, dirty old man. If pushing 40 was old. Well, to be fair, you did call the dead tree of a table at your parent’s house old, ‘cause it was 40.

He pulled off of you, your now un-joined mouths drippy with saliva.

“Get in between your Uncle’s legs. Wanna see that pretty mouth on this cock.” He urged, and you found yourself with your calves folded under you in between his parted thighs. He held his cock proudly, and to be honest, the piercings look daunting. How did you even expect yourself to suck on it like you’ve seen in porn? Maybe you should have spent more time watching guys with pierced dicks instead of the step category. You had a preference, clearly.

You snaked your hands up to him, holding his cock with a puzzled look clear on your face. Leon laughed, not like he was laughing at you but the way you laugh at someone when you think what they’re doing is cute.

“Don’t worry about them too much, gorgeous. Just do it how you think you would normally. But pay careful attention with your tongue. Won’t hurt me any, promise.” He reassures you thoroughly, chuckling through a sexually intense gaze. Okay, it seems…. easy enough. Didn’t know dirty old uncles could be so sweet about having their dick sucked.

You lean forward, Leon guiding the head to your mouth.

“Just go slow and focus on the tip. Don’t want my girl to be uncomfortable, now do I?” His girl? You liked the sound of that. Enjoyed it very much. You’d be his girl wherever and whenever. You took him past your lips- suckling on the tip softly and swirling your tongue around it.

“Just like that- fuck- you’re doing great, babydoll.”

The praise edged you on, and you managed enough confidence to glide your tongue down his shaft and over the piercings- flicking over them pornographically. You felt like it was just right. If fucking your uncle could be right in any way of the sense. Leon groaned and his head fell back onto the couch. A large hand found its way to your hair, holding it into a makeshift ponytail. You discovered that it wasn’t too daunting- it was possible to bob your head a little while keeping your tongue exploring the piercings in small swirls and flicks. Just makes your jaw a little tired faster. Besides, seems less scary than taking it inside you.

It’s an alternation of the previous movements and kitten licking up the front of him, and the adornments on his skin only seem to make everything feel much more stimulating. His breath deepens and he guides you now with your hair in hand- looking down at you through deep-brown bangs.

“Fuck- that’s it. Just look at you, dirty little niece I’ve got here, sucking her uncle’s cock like she was made for it. God- so damned pretty with your tongue on me.” His head falls back again for a moment, before he sits up- his labored panting evident.

“Christ. Okay- can’t take it anymore. C’mon, baby. Up.” He says, smacking your bottom when you stand in front of him. You’re feeling a bit ‘five seconds away from crashing into the coffee table and impaling yourself on the broken wood’ type of drunk now.

“Uncle Leon’s gonna pop that cherry, got it? Now sit down and let me lick that sweet pussy. Can still taste it after last time.” He’s speaking filthy things you should hear and run in the opposite direction from- but you don’t.

“My room. Remember where that is?” He mumbles, standing behind you now while he runs his hands down your sides- possessively grabbing at any fabric on you.

You shake your head no.

“Can’t remember. Need you to show me.” You whisper to him, putting your hands over his on your sides. He just muffles a laugh into the crook of your neck and shuffles you along in front of him, the two of you almost falling over multiple times on the way to his bedroom. You’re sure that something did get knocked off the wall at one point, but you literally do not care in any way.

Leon staggers you into the room and pushes you back onto the bed, shedding off his sweatpants. Naked, no boxers. Just full, thick cock and a trail of hair leading up to his belly-button that you haven’t let your eyes leave for however long you’ve been here. Oh, and muscled thighs. One of the greater parts of a man. His hands find their way to your thighs, tugging you to the edge of the bed before invading his thumbs into the waistband of your panties.

“Let’s get these off.” He grunts, pulling them down your legs and tossing them only for the undergarment to land in an unseen place. You go to tug off your skirt, until his hands pin yours to the bed.

“Want you to keep that on. Looks cute.” He says, retracting from you and sinking down at the edge of the bed. In no wasted time, his mouth is lazily lapping at your cunt- making your back bend in the reaction of immediate, overwhelming pleasure. You grabbed at the sheets until you remembered how his body responded when you pulled at his hair- so you found your hold there instead. Tugging his darkened strands with the pace he was eating you out at- stubble against your pussy and nose in your mound. His cheeks tickled your thighs, punching out a soft giggle and squirm from your body between the moaning. It makes him smile into you- reaching a hand up to knead your breast. Honestly, you hoped that the roof caved in right now and took you to your death because no moment would be better than this and that in itself made you suicidal.

You feel a finger slip past your hole, curling itself into that soft wall of fleshy, orgasmic sponge. The noise that left you was new, for sure and the muscle in his mouth jerked against your clit in tandem. It seemed Leon had the same deep feeling and worry you did about his dick even fitting, cause he added a second finger. Then tried to add a third but gave up because he actually wanted his dick to do that labor. He can be selfish, okay? It didn’t take long for you to cum either, duh. He was a skilled whore of a man and you’re a virgin. Or will be for only a few more minutes- probably less.

Your legs shake and tense, your heart thumps viciously, and your fingers threaten to tangle his hair into knots and make him start balding. Not happening no matter how hard you yank, though. His genes are too good for that. He was made for rough pulls to his mane. Made to take damage both mentally and physically. Made for splitting open cute, slutty nieces like you.

While you recovered, he licked his lips and fingers as clean as he could- missing the further parts of his stubbled cheeks. He stood up, hand on his lower back (‘cause duh, he’s old as dirt), and reached into the nightstand for a condom- which you gave him a look before he could open it. A look that told him ‘please, please, please don’t put it on! sure, fuck your blood-relative niece raw and possibly knock her up! Might not have to worry because you’re an alcoholic and your sperm quality is low, though.’ So fuck away.

He was a sucker for your big, glossy eyes and the slutty pout of your bottom lip. Not mentioning- he wouldn’t have worn a condom anyway. Would have just slipped it off before he stuck his dick in you. A virgin couldn’t tell the difference. What? You expected a man that fucks his own family to have morals for things lesser than that? No chance.

“Please, Uncle.” You begged softly, Leon knowing what you want without actually saying it. He’s great at reading people.

“Fucking hell. You’re something else. You want it that bad, huh?” He laughed, pleased by you beseeching him with so little words. You nodded, no objections about it. He tossed the unopened condom back in the drawer and shut it impatiently, making the lamp wobble.

“Changed my mind. Everything off. Gotta see that pretty set of tits.” The words were matter of fact and laced with a bit of erection-fueled urgency.

You reach your hands up to remove your shirt, then discard your bra and skirt. Left in the nude as naked as the day you were cut from your moms stomach. C-section baby and all that. Only this time there was no blood. Yet, anyways.

When you were stark naked, Leon pushed you firmly onto his bed again- folding you by the backs of your thighs, legs pressed to your chest and gifting your stomach with that cute roll thing it did. Leon liked that on a woman.

He grabbed his cock, positioning it against your slick that dribbled from your yet-to-be-abused hole. He was gonna change that. You could feel his one of the piercings resting against your skin down below- a tsunami of anxiety settling over your delicate village of a body.

“Might hurt a little, babydoll. Can’t promise I’m gonna be gentle with her.” He referred to your pussy, your hole fluttering when he talked. You gave a look of understanding and acknowledgement.

“God, want it so bad.” You whined under him, the position he had your legs in made you even crazier about having him in you, like, yesterday.

He didn’t savor the moment so that he could push into you, he just did it. The feeling of each piercing bumping your hole on the way in. It felt fucking good, but also his dick stretching you out was intense and stung like a papercut.

His hands held your thighs down into your stomach- giving you a novice contortionist experience, and you could see the veins in his forearm pop a little. Your mind raced with the following anxieties; ‘What if a piercing cuts my insides and I die from sepsis or something? What if a piercing ball comes off and is lost inside me forever? Maybe I should stretch more.’ The first two were irrational but maybe not so much so, or else you wouldn’t be thinking of them. You’re not the first woman to think any of it.

“Fuck- there we go. Shit. You feel incredible, baby.” He dropped the doll in favor of calling you baby this time, making you squeeze around him as he bottoms out, balls against your ass. Yep. A bruised cervix was in your future. Going to have to come up with an excuse for why you won’t be able to get out of bed for the next few days. You thought other girls were just exaggerating this whole time about feeling yourself be split open, what the hell was he trying to do? Dig out your uterus with his dick? Does he really have to be so deep? It’s, like, really hot and feels really fucking good, but also, slightly uncomfortable. Maybe it’s the position.

Either way, he’s feeding your ego.

You let your head relax onto the bed instead of continuing to hold it up, ‘cause doing that was much more painful.

“God.” You muttered, relieved to be full and get the virginity loss out of the way. You should be getting a cake and celebration for this, if it wasn’t your uncle. But still. Taking big, pierced dick deemed trophy worthy. Or maybe a plaque.

Leon gazed down at you through straight locks, shaking them out of his face a little. He pulled himself out, minus the tip, before pushing back in with a groan- his Adam’s Apple bobbing hypnotically. Your spine arched, lifting your back off the mattress and your hands dug into your own thighs, helping hold them in place.

“You like that, huh?” He asked, the difference between it being pure hormones and condescension was blurred. Could have been both. He doesn’t give that much of a timeframe to start dragging his cock in and out of you, slowly picking up speed and bottoming out each time- balls slapping against your bottom.

You babble nonsensically, the ribbed sensation of his piercings almost sending you into hysterics. Something about yes, yes. I love it. Need you to fuck me so hard that my dad disowns me because I’m wheelchair bound and he knows why.

“Feels good, baby. I know it. Bet it’s hitting places you didn’t even know you had.” If he wasn’t so fucking hot, you’d probably have the ick from how cocky he is. Or not, you’re fucked up.

He leaned forward over you more to tangle into your hair, guiding your head to more of an angle and exposing your neck. You were so overwhelmed from how hard and deep he’s fucking you, not to mention his dick feels like how you imagine a beginner level bad dragon dildo to feel. Or maybe a less monster-y version anyways. It just feels fucking good and that’s all you needed to care about. Soft, airy cries crawl their way from your throat and leave you between that and moaning. Uncle, please. Please, please, please, harder.

“Let it all out, that’s it. Uncle Leon’s gonna take good care of this pussy.”

You nod as much as you can with his hold on your hair, and he pants into your collarbone, sweaty and nasty on top of you. You feel like you’re almost being crushed under his weight but it’s only hotter, and gets even more when you feel his free hand slip between your damp bodies to thumb your aching and still-sensitive clit. You tighten around his cock in reaction- gasping.

“Take it, babydoll. Fuck. Show me how much you want your uncle to make you cum. Belong on my cock, you know it?”

Your brain is off somewhere in a hot air balloon, far from its preferred skull. Which is yours. He speaks in ways you didn’t imagine you’d ever get to be spoken to or even enjoy. But it’ll be the only thing that gets you off from now on, no doubt about it.

“Uh huh, belong on your dick forever. Never wanna take it out.” Yeah. You’re stupid for him.

“Fuck. That’s my girl. Keep talking like that and I’m not ever letting you go.”

You nod your head.

“Want that, want that so bad. ‘D let you fuck me whenever you want, uncle.”

His lips curl into a half-pressed grin before he’s panting again- a bead of sweat dripping onto him. You remember he did something with the AC. Yeah-to the heat in the apartment is frying you good and well. Guess he wanted the sex to be extra clammy and gross. You know, besides the incest.

“Christ. Fuck, yes.” He groans deep, throaty and carnal.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you. You’d be the prettiest little girlfriend. Sitting around waiting to get fucked all the time. I know how needy my baby is.” Christ. You’re going to the deepest abyss in hell. You’re sure whatever torment awaits is worth it though, so it’s not a big deal right now.

“Wanna be yours.” You choke, throat dry. Ah, you remember you’re intoxicated. That must be why you’re so loose at saying this stuff.

“Open up.” He huffs, almost face to face with you but still enough that his breath is hot on your features. You’re hasty to open your mouth like a whore, Leon dribbling his gathered spit down onto your tongue.

“Gotta keep you hydrated, baby. Can’t have that throat getting raw, can we?” You nod, there’s so many nasty things happening you can’t process it properly- unaware of everything as you cum a second time on his hand, squeezing his dick like a much softer and less dangerous guillotine.

His thrusts were a little more sloppy and erratic- alcohol fully set in for the both of you. Normally, he’d be able to hold off his orgasm a little longer- but combatting it wasn’t an option in this drunken state.

“Christ- so fucking pretty and tight when you cum on my dick. Gonna cum too, baby. Don’t think I can pull out right now.”

You shake your head no.

“Don’t pull out, please. Please uncle, ‘ll do whatever you want.”

He laughs brokenly, choked up from the moans that need to come out first.

“God, yes. Okay. Gonna fill this sweet pussy up, baby.”

He focuses a few more thrusts, hard enough to make it hurt a little and sloppy enough to still be just the right amount of perfect.

“Here it comes, baby. Need you to take i- shit.” He buried deep inside you as he came hard, rasped voice and all while he held his place firm. His hair is stuck to his face in some areas, his natural scent emanating off of the sweat droplets.

His dick spasms inside you, filling you with every bit of semen he’s got pent up in him. You could almost feel the way your cunt was full of his cum, having no room around his dick to go anywhere, really.

He relaxed a little, letting out a long, pleasurable groan. You yourself joined him in letting your body go limp as it could in this position. He grabbed your legs to straighten them out and let them wrap around his waist, making you realize they were folded too long and that they ache a bit.

He kissed your collarbone, picking up his head and kissing your cheek next.

“Mm. Did so great for me, babydoll. Not gonna be able to let you go now.” He teased, another peck to your mouth that you managed to reciprocate just in time.

“Then don’t.” You tell him, mumbling.

“I can manage that. Could easily be my girl. Would have to be our little secret, though.” He adds at the end, threading his fingers in your hair.

Yeah, you’re not turning down that offer.

[galeorderbride]

The Forest For The Trees - Fic Request (Gale x F!Tav)

A Gale smut piece requested by one of my OG readers @meglet1. Thank you so much for the request and for being you in general!! I seriously hope you like what I’ve written for you <3

18+ MDNI (This is SMUT/tags below)

Summary:

After Tav is nearly killed in a fight at Rivington Beach, Gale lets his fear get the best of him and a new couple spat ensues. Leading to a peaceful resolution :)

Tags: PiV sex, semi-public sex, inappropriate use of mage hand, oral sex (m and f receiving, including some choking), words of praise/encouragement, creampie, fingering (vaginal & anal), multiple orgasms, self-indulgent, some references to Tav having body issues.

Word count: 4.7K

Mind the tags, everyone. Fic below the cut:

“I decided to choose you and live, then you go off and almost get yourself killed!”

Gale wasn’t the type to air out his issues in front of everyone, but this time, he couldn’t shake the nervous energy off. Panic and anxiety of balancing on an uneven precipice, powerless. Just days ago, he chose to stay with Tav instead of doing as Mystra commanded him, deep in that haunting colony, where the Elder Brain resided and, because he decided to live, remained a threat to the entire Sword Coast.

Less than an hour ago, he and Tav returned from the beaches of Rivington with their companions. Running into a gaggle of rival gangs ready to slaughter each other. The guild, run by the infamous Nine Fingers Keene, and the new recruits of this Stone Lord everyone was talking about. Gale cared little for whose alliance went where. Not when Tav had decided to intervene right in the middle of things, doing her best to settle scores and ending up having to fight both of them.

In the crossfire, Tav was hit with an electrified weapon, a hammer imbued with thunderous damage effects that nearly killed her with the impact against her spine. Knocked down, she spent the remainder of the fight unconscious, no one having time to revive her until they’d finished the fight. Across a landscape of crime syndicate corpses, Gale watched with intensity as Shadowheart struggled to revive her. The image of her near dissolved heartbeat still aching within him, harsher than the orb. Gasping for breath at the last second when he thought he lost her forever.

She’d regained balance quickly, the powerful healing of Selune now imbued within Shadowheart’s fingers, even if she hadn’t quite gotten to admit it yet. Tav was walking normally, a little fatigued but nothing more than that. Which gave Gale the opportunity to stop being worried for her welfare and be upset instead.

“Do you know how close you came to death? How much I worried Shadowheart wouldn’t revive you? All for a bunch of criminals who would’ve cared for the dirt under their boots more than you!” Gale exclaimed as he paced around the hay shed at their camp outside Rivington. Tav followed, arms across her chest as she tried to contain a frustrated sigh.

“I wasn’t trying to get all of them against us. How many times has convincing people to cool their heads worked on this journey? Times we never expected! I didn’t think this would be an exception,” she replied, her voice soft but assertive in her own defense.

“That’s what happens when you expect things to work in your favour! We can never assume anything is an absolute certainty, and I’ve been saying this from the beginning. I know it’s in your nature to stick your neck out for people, but do recall that I gave up on what might be the heaviest task of my life so I could be with you!” Gale continued, letting his panic get the better of him.

Tav’s eyes widened, now no longer trying to placate. “Don’t you use that against me! My encouragement to have you stay with me is not a blank check to use against me when I do something you dislike. I asked you to stay because I love you! And I had no intention of starting a fight today, nor did I plan to end up in the state I did!”

This was around when the rest of the camp began to hear them arguing. Frigid looks turned their way by Shadowheart, Karlach and Wyll. Eyerolls and mischievous scoffing from Astarion. Jaheira simply shook her head and mumbled ‘young love’ under her breath. Gale pretended not to hear it.

She looked at him with such offense, eyes dotted with the threat of tears from his fury. Any motivation to be cross with her slowly waning each time his eyes met hers.

“I love you too! Which is why I’m so off put by what happened to you. I don’t want to see you putting yourself in danger and disregarding forethought! I don’t think you understand just how much I can’t—”

Gale didn’t finish the sentence, brought on by a fear that he’d overwhelm her in saying such an intense thing. They’d confessed their love in a spur of the moment, when the culmination of all they’d been through was knocking at the front door. Emotions were high, and while he meant every word he said, he didn’t want to cross a line and compromise the start of a wonderful thing with Tav. Deep down, he’d loved her from the moment he saw her, and each day he got closer to admitting that out loud. Precisely why he reacted with such fear to what happened at the beach.

Tav crossed her arms, an expression of seriousness he’d never seen before. Well, not directed at him.

“Can’t what? Don’t let this be the time you don’t use your words, Gale. Because I am this close to storming off,” she said, pinching her index finger and thumb together in an impatient motion.

“I can’t…live without…you,” he said, his voice starting loud and then slowly quieting as he completed the sentence.

The two of them stopped short, silence washing over them as his words sank into both their minds. Memories of their first night together flooding back, when he showed her everything he could offer. A beautiful experience in the Outer Planes, where their souls entwined within currents of raw weave. Expressing their new love in countless ways, too many for one evening, but they did all they could. Loving, tender, but despite it all, not real. Not bodies together, the physical exertion of passionate, violently yearning intimacy. Just what Gale became tempted with after he spoke those long awaited words, as the anger melted from his system and replaced itself with carnality.

There wasn’t time for Tav to respond. Astarion cut in with his usual mocking tone. “Would you two get a damned room? Your voices are grating and I’m trying to enjoy a nice glass of wine I stole from Last Light.”

“I knew that bottle was familiar!” Jaheira cried out, no longer paying attention to Gale and Tav.

Tav sighed, bothered by the chiding of their companions. She felt on the spot, watched in all the wrong ways. Gale gently grabbed her arm.

“Come over this way,” he demanded, short and impatient. Quite possibly the briefest she’d ever heard him speak.

He pulled her away from the camp, a short but fair distance from their companions. Clusters of bushes and broken trees began to fill the space as he brought her forward. The sun was setting above them, hues of paradisiacal magenta and orange above them, beaming through the shaking leaves. Tav didn’t have much time to gaze upon the natural beauty, for Gale led her as if running to safety.

“Gale, where are you taking me?! You’re pulling too much, I’m going to lose my balance,” Tav questioned.

A few seconds went by, Tav’s curiosity getting the better of her as she’d never seen him so flustered. Trees surrounded them, but not enough to block the bustling city lights of Rivington on one side and the fire of their camp on the other. Voices of Karlach and Lae’zel talking could still be heard from the distance they stood. Tav had never been to this side before, but Gale had a way of making her feel safe no matter where.

“Come here, love,” he said, his arms moving to hook around her waist as he pushed her gently against a large tree.

She had little time to take a breath before his lips were on hers, soft but with an ardent passion once resting in bubbling irritation, now sprouting into lust. Their bodies pressed together, hips against hips as Tav began to melt into his wandering touch. Her knees nearly buckled when his index finger grazed the ridge of her jaw, tongue caressing her own. Temptation to run her fingers through his wondrous hair was too great, that strange sensation of a near death if she didn’t, silken texture on her skin enough to forget about everything they argued about.

But his words hung loose in her mind, and she pulled out of the kiss for a moment. Their faces still centimetres apart as she whispered, “I can’t live without you either. I’m sorry I wasn’t careful.”

Gale rubbed his nose against hers, that playful, breathy grin plastered on his face. “Let’s just look out for each other, alright? It’s so easy to get ahead of oneself, and I love you too much to watch idle by and pray you know the risk. You are a powerhouse of might, my love, but neither of us is invincible.”

“I know, I know,” she said in a hushed tone, so whisper thin the crickets chirped louder. Night fell fast, unburdened by clouds and blanched with a sea of stars. Everything was perfect, a moment in time that both of them longed for since their first time together. Opportunities never coming soon enough as their arduous adventures took precedence over everything. Now was the time, when the sky’s darkness masked them from the rest of the world’s troubles.

Gale answered with peppering kisses down Tav’s neck, shivering at the supple softness against such a sensitive area. For the first time since before Mystra, he wanted something purely physical—mortal. Covered in the finite flesh of his new love, giving pieces of themselves as a simple reminder that they remained alive. He’d forgotten the lure of that desire, powerful and impossible to satiate without going the full way, being as close to Tav as humanly possible.

Cracked bark scratched the itches of Tav’s back, pressed ever harder with each kiss from neck to collarbone. Desire budding at the touch points of her body; at the tip of her breasts, the heat of her ears, the tingling between her legs. Those parts growing more swollen with want when she felt the brush of his palms around her waist, fingertips dipping under the hem of her shirt to tickle her lower stomach. They were like teenagers sneaking around behind a schoolyard, eyes darting back and forth to make sure no one saw them enjoy each other. A thrill long forgotten on both sides.

“Gale, won’t someone hear us? We’re still close to camp,” Tav said between laboured, lustful breaths.

“With all we’ve been through, I highly doubt they care. But to ease your anxieties,” Gale replied, waving his hand to create a violet purple dome around them, “A silencing spell.”

“Perfect,” she said.

With a quick maneuver, Gale unclipped the belt of her wrapped shirt, slowly folding the fabric over her shoulders. He took his time, relishing in the pull of cloth from skin, little reveals each second until she bore herself bare to him. A maroon brasier remained, almost black under the moonlight and slipping low. Enough to catch a glimpse of her nipples, begging to spring free from constriction. Meanwhile, Gale spread her longer shirt across the ground, using clothes as a makeshift bed—if not to remedy the future ache of his knees. He unwrapped his robes as well, left only in a white, linen shirt and trousers.

He could hardly concentrate, the beauty of Tav under the moonlight too transfixing to not stare upon. Fitted perfectly in her under clothes, the rise and fall of her chest teasing him without trying. Watching like she didn’t notice, but she did, and began to strip for his pleasure. Removing the straps of the bra first, slow against her shoulders, the perk of her breasts peeking out before the clasp snapped free. Gale stood before her, watching with a subtle grin.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Tav. Do you know how much? How I ache to the point of fever when graced with your presence?” He asked, voice dark with lust, a gruffness she didn’t hear when in the Outer Planes.

“Even as I am? No magic or beautiful strands of starry weave around me? Surely this can’t be as exciting as that time,” she said, not intending to be self conscious, but failing to keep that in check. Not a goddess, not a higher being in the form of a body, but just herself. Scars, blemishes, bad angles and all. Mortal in all the wrong ways.

“As you are is more than anything the weave could offer. Having you naked under the moon like this is a memory embedded in my mind for eternities to come,” he said, stepping over to her to help unbutton her pants. He ensured his fingers touched every part, no matter where, and his breath against her neck warmed and cooled.

“Oh, my, you give me no chance with words like that,” she said.

Between bountiful, romantic kisses, the rest of their clothes were discarded into the flattened pile. Too impatient to go somewhere with room to conjure a full bed, absorbed in the embrace of each other as they fell into the fabric. Tav straddled his waist, lowering down so she could still glide her tongue against his. Never wishing to part her lips from his for the rest of the night. Craving the push of his hands embedded in her skin, down her spine and over the hill of her ass, ending with a firm squeeze.

Not a single part of her didn’t feel something. Her nipples gliding against his chest hair, hardening them in seconds with the playful tingle at the tips. His hands finding purchase, amused enough to spank the right cheek with a hard enough force to have her yelp giggle and yelp out loud. And that irresistible grind of his growing erection pushing against her core, hastier than himself, simply begging to push into that tight, unoccupied hole. Just the beginning, and yet she already preferred being together like this, fully in tandem with each other, nothing but their beating hearts and heated bodies.

Eventually, both of them needed to take a breath, locked in a heated make out for a time they lost count of. Tav lifted her body up, back arched in pleasure as Gale followed teeth-first. Biting, sucking, licking her nipples, each side deserving of his equal attention. Delicate moans grew into hot, heavy woes of passion, caring little for noise control with the purple dome of silence above them. Saliva trailed down her breasts, her wizard so lost in the ecstasy of tasting those pink, round buds. Hugging her in his arms, moving his cock against her to feel the head getting wetter with her slick.

Tav whispered in his ear, fingers tangled in his hair, “Perhaps I should get into danger more often, if this is the consequence.”

Gale chuckled, muffled by the slide of his tongue around her earlobe, “No need. Should you want my services, all you have to do is ask. Nicely. With a very eager ‘please’. Now, I am on the precipice of sliding into you this instant. But I’d have you come first.”

Hands firm on her ass, he pushed her forward, legs buckling over as he laid down. Angling himself so her core hovered over his face as he continued, “On my mouth, darling.”

Unable to contain her giggles, she adjusted her legs to straddle the sides of his face. Too gradual for Gale as he grabbed her hips and pulled her down. Tav gasped from the heavenly sensation, his lips and tongue all over her pussy in seconds, nodding his jaw up and down to stimulate her slit with his stubble. His tongue moved with expert precision, letting Tav take control of the pace as he moaned into her cunt, slurping and sucking at her as if drowning himself in her essence. There wasn’t enough lip biting and stifled moans in the world to keep her from building up to a snapping orgasm, inch by inch as she swivelled her hips around his face. His nose jutted against her pubic bone, mouth focused entirely on her swollen clit, pushing her down to ensure she wouldn’t move away. Even as her inner thigh muscles shook with pleasured tremors.

Tav stuttered out, “Holy fu…ck…Gale, I’m s-so close. Keep going, keep going! Now, yes, now!”

At that point, she was using any superlative her blurred mind could conjure. An orgasm flowered within her, strong, hot and never felt in a very long time. She clawed his hair under her legs, twitching hips riding out a wet climax, dripping into his beard. A taste he’d never get enough of, buttery and sweet on his tongue. He’d be happy to suffocate under her in a bid to have her finish again.

Coming down wasn’t an option, continuing to flick his tongue against her clit even as her muscles relaxed. Sensitivity stung at her pussy, sharp hits of pleasure shining through with each feral moan he made. A sound so enticing, she melted for him, allowing his hands still on her ass to push her further forward, rear completely up. Behind her, he snapped his fingers, figments of magic beckoning around her in a light blue glow. Tav could barely pay attention, lost in the feeling of his tongue lapping at her cunt. Until two fingers pushed into her entrance, filling her quick but smooth in an electrified vibration. A mage hand, finger fucking her from behind. Taking her to a place of impossible pleasure, no choice but to let go.

As Gale sucked at her clit, muffled words came from below her, “Does that feel nice, my love? Can you cum all over my face again? That’s it, let the hand fuck you, good girl.”

“Gods above, Gale, I’m so sensitive! But fuck it feels so good!” She exclaimed, whimpering with each buck of her hips against his mouth, the hand following every angle so not a centimetre pulled out. Pumping into her tight walls, angling in just the right direction to have her shaking for a second climax.

“Let me help you even more,” Gale said, motioning his wrist to command the mage hand to push its thumb at the entrance of her asshole. Prodding in and out, gently easing in enough to thrust in the same rhythm as the fingers, slick sounds of sex invading her ears. She gasped at the hot tightness, cunt thoroughly stimulated in every way. It was perfect, hitting every spot just how she liked, and some she didn’t know existed. Gale was simply eager to please, laughing slyly as he felt her orgasm again.

Tav quaked at her second finish, overwhelmed with searing ecstasy. She cried out, “I can’t take it anymore, please! Too—too sensitive.”

The mage hand vanished with her command, easing the pressure of overstimulation palpating in her veins. Gale couldn’t resist one, soft kiss on her clit before letting her move off of him. Without her body to focus on, the ache of his rock hard cock snapped into awareness. Precum dotting the head, so stiff he feared it might break at the gentlest touch. Proven wrong when Tav brought her lips down to the tip, licking off the salty cum. Giving him a taste of his own medicine as he shivered in sensitive rapture. Both of them had a tendency to get carried away, as what was meant to be a simple tease with her tongue led to her taking his cock into her mouth. Using her hand to pump at the bottom of the shaft, too big to go all the way down.

Choking and sucking sounds filled the air as Gale writhed under the mercy of her mouth. Running her hand up and down his bare thigh, hypnotized by the lusty song of his satisfied whimpers. He wanted to tell her this wasn’t necessary, he enjoyed seeing her enjoyment. But as her throat coated his cock, he was rendered speechless. More so when she bobbed her head up and down, moaning through her nose as he gently joined her by fucking her mouth. Small, quick thrusts in fear of hurting her, but enough to make his calf muscles strain.

Spit and precum doused his cock as she lifted him out of her mouth, a raunchy ‘pop’ sound coming from her lips. Gale’s shaken, pleasured sighs covered the forest, stimulated by the cold air kissing the wet surface of his raised erection. Tav fawned over how it glistened, her core pulsing and tightening with the silent beg to be filled. Surely, she’d pass out if he wasn’t inside her immediately.

Gale exhaled deeply, shaking his head with unfathomable joy. “You will be the death of me. That felt…so good. I don’t even know how to describe it.”

She smiled, failing to contain the blush on her face. How she loved to know he was already satisfied. “We’re not done yet, my love.”

Her leg hooked back over his waist, straddling him again. This time, angling the opening of her cunt right against the desperate head of his thick cock. He looked so beautiful below her, gleaming with sweat and rosy with anticipation. Fingertips tickling up and down the sides of her thighs. Gods, when he laughed, that lusty chuckle of boiling desire had her foolish in his arms. She chased that sound, easing down on his cock until he bottomed out inside her. The stretch and slick of her walls fluttering around him forcing a high pitched whimper from her. Clit shuddering at the sensation of little hairs against it, nearly orgasming right there. Never had she wanted someone so much, craved another’s touch in a way she didn’t know was possible until meeting him. Everything about him was magnificent.

“Moan for me, love. I want to hear your every sound as I fuck you,” Tav demanded, locking her palms on his chest as she began to ride him. Fast, fervently, hips bucking back and forth so good he obeyed instantly. Husky, sultry, moans and even guttural growls with each grind of her pussy against him.

One hand stayed on her thigh and the other kneaded at her breast, his thumb flicking and pinching her nipple while her languid movements continued. By now, he could see when she was close, biting down on her lip to concentrate as she ignored her aching muscles. More warmth and wetness dripped along his cock. He nodded to her, let her use him as a toy for her own pleasure, moving pieces of hair from her face at the same time.

“Let me see you cum again, please. That’s it, ride my cock like that. So wet for me, I can’t believe it. Keep going, yes, very good. You’re doing so well,” he said, words of encouragement coming with his thumb moving to her clit. Rubbing the spot he learned she liked, just a little assistance in getting her over that impossible edge.

Tav’s body cramped up as she squeezed onto his cock, crying out Gale’s name as her third climax ripped through her lower half, felt even at the tingling peak of her breasts. He could’ve done anything in that moment, came anywhere he liked, and she’d be fine with it. Her orgasm all the stronger as she pictured being covered in him from face to pussy. A debauched mess on top of clothes, fully vulnerable to him.

Seeing her above him brought his own release closer. Unable to wait as he pulled her torso down to kiss her hard, pushing his tongue into her mouth with reckless abandon. Tav yelped playfully as they kissed, paralyzed by the ecstasy of being fucked into. Sore, sensitive and hedonistic, she relished in the hard thrusting and the heated touch of their perspired bodies together. Wishing this would never end but craving his release inside her at the same time.

She left the kiss to whisper in his ear, biting his earlobe, licking at him, “Finish inside me. Please, I want it so bad.”

“Oh, gods, Tav I’m going to—right…ah!” He groaned out the unfinished sentence, his impatient cock spilling inside of her tight hole. He pulsed within her, feeling his spine arch as he experienced likely the greatest orgasm he’d ever had. Reaching his entire body, lasting longer, an addicting taste of eternal paradise. Tav’s soft whimpers the final touch to the most wonderful feeling.

She moved off of him, laying flat with her legs open. Gale still felt trickles of desire in his stomach, not enough to get hard again so quickly, but enough to lean over her thoroughly fucked cunt. His breath warmed her skin as he caressed his tongue along her clit, letting his index finger rub her cum-filled entrance as he did. All she could do was wheeze, too tired for a full moan but adoring the feeling of his mouth on her again. He was gentle this time, careful not to bring out the growing soreness. No, he just softly licked, kissed and sucked at her clit, stomach sinking with carnal intrigue as he watched his cum dripping out of her. He wanted to mark his territory, give her one more orgasm to be certain she knew she was his. Even just a little one.

Tav concentrated with the full power of her exhausted mind, feeling herself ready to climax once more. She couldn’t believe how skilled he was, moaning his name out again as he pinched her lips together, pushing her clit further into his mouth. That, mixed with the amazing sensation of his cum inside of her, was enough to inch her into that little release. Her fingers clutching his hair, pulling slightly as she came for a fourth time. A tiny bit more of his seed poured out of her as she relaxed.

“Perfect,” he said, leaving her core and moving to lay beside her, “You are amazing. I can’t believe you’re real sometimes.”

Tav smiled, cuddling into the crux of his shoulder, “I should be the one to say that. No one’s ever been so attentive to me. And by the gods, I have never finished that many times.”

“Oh, my love, I am excited to inform you that wasn’t even all I can do. If I had you in a bed, with a private bathroom, different corners of the room to take you in; you’d have at least six, I’d make sure of it,” he replied.

“In that case, we must find an inn as soon as possible,” she replied, kissing his cheek as he scooped her body closer to him.

They cuddled for a few minutes more, letting the cool, night air dry their sweat-drenched bodies before returning to camp. Hand-in-hand, eyes doled with the fire of new romance and the comedown from lovemaking. What began as the rising moon, evening pink with sunset, had transformed into deep night, pleasantly dark and glinting with fresh, sparkling stars. Neither of them wished for a conclusion, but sleep beckoned and they had no idea what might happen tomorrow. Tav only knew that she’d refrain from taking too many risks, as now she’d become a fool for someone else entirely.

Gale and Tav agreed to share a tent tonight, and from now on. First, she went to the smouldering fire to grab a piece of sunmelon and her water canteen. The rest of the camp now silent as everyone retired for the evening, except for their most nocturnal companion: Astarion. Who had returned from the other side of the woods, pallid complexion brighter than usual, a sign that he just fed on an animal.

“Good hunt?” She asked, finishing off the last bite of her sunmelon piece and throwing the peel in the fire.

“Never as good as the real thing, darling, but enough to tide me over. Perhaps I should’ve saved some for you, tired little adventurer,” he replied, brow raised in that cheeky expression. Always present when he was about to take the piss out of someone.

“Fruit and water will suit me fine. Goodnight, Astarion,” she replied, turning to head for Gale’s tent.

Astarion spoke as she walked away, “By the way, remind your wizard to maintain his silencing concentration. If I’m going to hear your debauchery, I’d rather hear it from the beginning and not halfway through. Goodnight, Tav!”

Tav cleared her throat, swallowing down her growing embarrassment as she walked to Gale’s tent. Knowing fully well what kind of teasing she’d endure the next morning. For now, she would simply sleep in Gale’s arms and deal with the rest as they came.

[xomakara]

Making Music

SUMMARY |  You and Johnny are rival music professors who are forced to work together on a joint project. Through the process, you get to know each other better, eventually giving into the attraction you have for each other.

PAIRINGS | Johnny x Reader

GENRE |  college!professor!Johnny, college!professor!Reader, college au, co-worker trope, rivals to lovers, smut

CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, drinking, protected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), slight fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (f. and m. receiving/giving), praise kink, pet names, couch sex, multiple positions

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

LENGTH |  10,031 words

TAGLIST |

NETWORKS | @k-vanity @ksmutsociety

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Another college au to add to my many NCT college aus I have lol. But this time, both are professors. I hope this turned out well. I'm always a tough critique of my own work lol. I hope you all like this!

You watched as the students in the Music Department made a buzz when they heard of the joint project that would happen during the year's second half. It wasn't unusual to have a joint project. It has been done a few times between departments. The students didn't seem to have any issues working with each other. It was more like the teachers were having a problem.

Well...more like you and Johnny Suh having issues.

Scratch that…more like you had problems.

You were the Music Business Professor and he was the Music Production Professor. You both were popular with the students and you were the two best in the department. So it wasn't a surprise when you both were put in charge of this project.

The Music Production students would be involved in all creative and production sides of things while the Music Business Students would take the business side. You both would have your classes work together as you worked alongside them.

You and Johnny had been rivals ever since you got this job. The reason is because you both have the same skill sets. You could have been teaching music production and Johnny could have taught music business but you love the business aspect. Johnny on the other hand would rather have his hands dirty with the music itself.

When you first met Johnny, you didn't expect him to be a professor. He didn't look or dress the part. You thought he was a graduate student but then you were informed he was the teacher. It surprised you because he looked so young. But then again, he also thought the same of you.

That's how it all started.

You were surprised that Johnny could do everything he could. It was as if he knew all there was about music. He could sing, play instruments, produce, write lyrics, and could even dance. He could have been an idol or a professional musician but instead, he chose to become a teacher.

You both were so busy arguing with each other. The two of you were so passionate about music that it was hard to agree on things. This project had to be a success and the two of you had to be a team to achieve it. But that didn't stop the two of you from bickering over small things.

It didn't help that Johnny was so attractive. You hated how he could make a plain white shirt and a pair of jeans look sexy. You also hated how he could make his voice so low and sexy. But most of all, you hated how his voice turned so soft when he spoke to you.

You would catch yourself staring at him, getting lost in his beautiful eyes, and his handsome smile. You would get a warm feeling in your chest and you hated that feeling. You wanted to hate him. You wanted to dislike him. But he was so charming that you couldn't help but like him.

You tried not to get involved with your coworkers. Especially with Johnny. He was very much a flirt. You didn't know if he did it because he was attracted to you or because it was just his nature. Either way, it annoyed you.

You hated the fact that your heart skipped a beat when you saw him. You hated how every time you were close to him, your face would feel hot. And most of all, you hated how you couldn't stop thinking about him.

You had feelings for Johnny.

You wanted to tell him that you had feelings for him.

But what was the point?

You had a feeling he would reject you. He would probably say something like 'you're just another coworker'. You were sure that he wasn't the type of guy to date. If anything, he probably has many girls chasing after him. There was no way someone like Johnny Suh would choose someone like you over anyone else.

You had been sitting at your desk, grading some papers when there was a knock at your office door.

"Come in."

"Y/N, can we talk?" Johnny said, leaving the door to your office ajar.

"About what?" You ask, gathering your papers and shoving them in your bag.

"We have to get our heads together on this project. The semester is going by faster than we realize. I think we should start meeting more often to get the ball rolling. I would like for us to be on the same page. At least let's show our kids that we can work together. What do you think?"

Johnny is right.

"Fine." You muttered as you ran a hand through your hair. "You think we should also jump on this project with the kids instead of just sitting back and watching them? You know...be involved?"

Involved? Johnny was thinking of just overseeing the whole thing but maybe it would be better to join the kids in this. He's done this sort of project before but this time would be different. This would be the first time you would be involved in such a project and he would love to see you in action.

"Yes. That would be great. Are you sure though? You've never done this type of thing before. Are you up for the challenge?" Johnny asked, leaning on the doorframe.

"What the hell do you mean? Do you think I can't do it?" You said defensively.

"I didn't say that," Johnny replied. "It's just that this project would involve a lot of work. It would require long hours and dedication. It's not going to be easy. If you're not up for it, I won't force you."

"I am up for it, Johnny. You don't have to worry about me. I'm a big girl. I can handle myself." You replied.

"Oh yeah? Let's go, Y/N. Show me what you got." Johnny teased.

"Alright, let's meet after class tomorrow." You responded, trying to get the last word.

"How about we meet after class today?" Johnny offered.

"Today? No can do. I have other plans. Can't cancel." You responded.

"Other plans? What kind of plans?" Johnny asked.

"What kind? What's that got to do with you? Are you my mother? Am I not allowed to have plans on a Friday night?" You questioned defensively.

"Sorry, I was just curious. Forget I asked." Johnny replied quickly.

Johnny didn't want to admit it but he wanted to know what plans you had. Maybe you were going on a date? The thought of you going on a date with some guy bothered him. He didn't understand why it bothered him though. You were just another coworker. At least, that's what he told himself. But that was a lie. He liked you and he's had feelings for you since you met.

He tried not to think about you too much. But lately, it's gotten harder not to do so. Whenever he closes his eyes, your face is all that he sees. He couldn't believe a coworker, a girl who was so focused on the academics of the music business, could be so beautiful. But she is. She is beautiful in her own way. She doesn't need flashy outfits or tons of makeup to shine. Just her smile, her beauty, and her passion alone were enough to win him over.

So here he is, standing in front of the girl he likes. Asking her what plans she had on a Friday night.

"You know what?" You looked up at him. "Why don't you join me tonight? I was going to get drinks with some of our coworkers but I'm sure they wouldn't mind if you joined us. What do you say?"

"I guess I can join you. It sounds like fun." He replied.

"Great. Just don't bring the mood down, ok?" You laughed, turning off the lights.

"Hey, I'm not a party pooper. I know how to have fun." Johnny scoffed.

"We'll see." You smirked.

"You invited who?" Doyoung asked, eyes wide.

"Johnny." You repeated. "I invited him. Is that a problem?"

"I didn't think you two would get along." Jaehyun chimed in. "I thought you hated each other."

"It's not that I hate him...it's just...ugh, you know what? Forget it. He's coming and now I have to act like his handsome face isn't making me feel weird." You groaned.

"Ohhhhh... So you like him." Hendery teased.

"Don't even go there, Hendery. Just pretend like you never heard me say anything." You responded, your cheeks beginning to feel hot.

"Hey guys, sorry I'm late. Oh, hey Y/N." Kun waved.

"You're not late. Johnny isn't here yet." You answered.

"Oh, Johnny's coming? I thought you hated him." Kun wondered.

You slammed your head against the table and groaned. Why the fuck did everyone keep bringing that up? Did you not invite him? What would the reason be?

"She doesn't hate him." Hendery teased.

You rolled your eyes. "Can you not, please? It's bad enough you're all ganging up on me. I'm the one paying for all your drinks so can you all just leave me alone?"

"Ok, ok. We'll stop." Kun raised his hands up. "We won't mention Johnny."

"Thanks, Kun." You smiled.

"Unless..." Kun whispered.

"KUN!"

"Hey guys." A familiar voice interrupted.

You all looked over to see Johnny smiling and waving at the group. You felt a blush rise on your cheeks as you saw him approach you. Why did he have to look so good all the time? He was wearing different clothes than what he wore at school. Decked out in a white t-shirt that hugged his bulging arms and a pair of dark denim jeans, he looked really good. He sported a pair of fashion frames and a bag that was slung over one shoulder. He was dressed down and casual and it made you want to drop to your knees.

What are these thoughts you're having?

You shook your head, snapping yourself from the image of you on your knees sucking Johnny off. You gave yourself a mental slap to stop yourself from looking at his bulge. You quickly made eye contact, hoping he didn't notice you looking. He smiled at you, causing your cheeks to flush again.

"Sorry, I was driving around trying to find a place to park. Traffic is hell around here." Johnny stated.

"Don't worry, you made it. That's all that matters." You answered.

"Hey, Johnny. Thanks for coming." Kun smiled.

"No problem." Johnny smiled, patting Kun on the back.

You watched as he took a seat beside Kun. He smiled at the rest of the group before turning his attention to you. His eyes twinkled with mischief and you didn't like the way it made your stomach flutter. He sat back in his chair and put an arm behind his head. His shirt rode up slightly and you almost died at the sight of the v that was exposed.

God, give you strength.

You're going to make it through this Friday night with everyone without dying at the sight of Johnny Suh.

You can do it. At least you hope you can.

"So what are we doing tonight?" Johnny asks.

"Drinking," Doyoung replied. "A lot."

"Oh boy." Johnny chuckled. "Well, if you guys are drinking a lot, then I better drink a lot too."

"Yeah, that's the idea." Jaehyun laughed.

"I'm glad you decided to come, Johnny," Kun said. "Been awhile since we all got together like this."

"Now that I think about it, I've never hung out with both Johnny and Y/N at the same time," Hendery mutters. "It's usually one or the other."

"Is that so?" Johnny arched his eyebrow and turned toward you. "I didn't realize that."

"There's no big reason as to why. We are both pretty busy. Unlike you slackers, Johnny and I have classes to teach." You stated, jokingly.

"Ooooo, shots fired. She went there." Hendery grinned. "How do you counter attack, Professor Suh?"

"She's not wrong." Johnny smiled.

"Of course, he's going to say that. Y/N, I'm offended. I happen to be a great teacher in my vocal classes." Doyoung started.

"You sure the students aren't there to swoon over your voice? Cause every time I pass you, I hear all those gushes." You grinned.

"The voice of an angel," Johnny added. "His fangirls will always swoon for him. Can you blame him though?"

"See! Even Johnny gets me. I can't help that my voice attracts fangirls. It's not my fault they fall for me. It's a curse that comes with talent." Doyoung dramatically exclaimed.

You rolled your eyes at him and took a sip of your drink. Everyone looked on as Doyoung continued to ramble on. They would interject with small laughs here and there, making the whole atmosphere light.

You ordered a few drinks and chatted with the guys. They were having fun, talking about the students and all the gossip in the faculty room. You couldn't help but laugh at some of the stories. You also enjoyed hearing Johnny talk about his students. He seemed like a great teacher and the way he talked about them with so much passion made you smile.

The conversation soon turned to the joint project. Everyone agreed that it would be a great opportunity for the students and the faculty. There would be a lot of learning and a lot of fun. You were excited about the project. You had a feeling it would be a great success.

The night was getting late and the drinks were starting to take effect. Your cheeks were flushed and you were feeling tipsy. You decided to call it a night. You needed to get some sleep. You said goodbye to the boys and headed home.

On your way out, you passed by Johnny who was waiting outside. He smiled at you and you couldn't help but smile back.

"What are you doing out here?" You ask.

"Waiting for you." He replied. "You can't go home alone. It's dangerous."

"I'll be fine. Besides, I don't live far." You argue.

"Then I'll walk you home." He offered. "I have nothing else better to do anyways."

"You don't have to. I'll be ok." You responded.

"I insist. I'll walk you." Johnny stated, following behind you.

"Okay, fine." You groaned.

You walked side by side down the sidewalk. It was a cool evening and the sky was clear. You couldn't help but admire how handsome he was. He looked even better than usual. You liked how casual he looked. It made him seem less intimidating. You knew it was wrong to think so but he looked absolutely edible in casual clothes.

"You look really nice." You blurted out.

"What?" He laughed.

"I said, you look nice." You repeated.

He looked down at you, a hint of surprise on his face. "Are you drunk or something? I've never heard you say anything nice to me before."

"No, I'm not drunk. I just..." You sighed. "You know what, forget it."

"Hey." He grabbed your arm. "Tell me."

"You look really good in those clothes. They fit you well." You tell him, the words coming out all mushed together.

"Wow." He chuckled. "Who would have thought you would ever give me a compliment."

"Don't make a big deal out of it." You said, quickly.

"Ok, ok." He smiled. "I'll take it."

The walk was a short one and before you knew it, you were standing outside your apartment building.

"Thanks for walking me." You mumbled.

"No problem." He replied.

You stared at him for a moment, wondering if you should ask him inside. You were feeling a little bold and you were sure that you wouldn't regret it. "You want to come inside?"

"For real?" Johnny's eyes widened in shock.

"Yeah. Why not? I think we could use a break from all the work we've been doing lately." You replied, trying to contain the eagerness in your voice.

"Why the hell not." Johnny smiled, stepping closer to you.

You lead the way up to your apartment. When you get inside, you kick off your shoes and throw your keys on the kitchen counter. You turn to look at Johnny who is looking around, taking everything in.

"This is nice." He murmured. "It looks like a great place."

"Thanks. Make yourself at home." You say.

Johnny walked through your living room to the sofa and sat down. You couldn't help but watch him. The way his muscular thighs filled his jeans was mouth-watering.

You head to the kitchen and open up the fridge. "Want a beer?"

"Sure." He nodded.

You grab a couple of beers and walk over to the couch. You hand him a bottle and sit down next to him.

"To the upcoming project." You raise your beer.

"To the upcoming project," Johnny replies, touching your bottle with his.

You clink bottles and take a swig of your beer. You set the bottle down on the table and sigh. "Man, I needed this."

"Yeah, me too." Johnny smiles.

"It's a lot to work out, but I think this project can be successful." You reply.

"It will be. It'll give our students and us a lot of opportunities." Johnny nods in agreement.

"They'll learn a lot and they'll have fun." You add, lifting your beer to your lips. "But mostly, they'll have fun."

"Sounds like my kind of project." Johnny laughs, tipping his head back to swallow some beer.

"I can't wait to hear some of the songs they make." You say the buzz of alcohol makes your head spin.

"Hopefully they aren't too wild." Johnny chuckles.

The two of you chat and finish your beers. You start to feel a buzz and begin to feel a bit braver than usual. You notice that Johnny is feeling the same, as his inhibitions start to lower. "You want another beer?"

"Yes." Johnny nodded. "Absolutely."

"Cool." You reply, grabbing both your empty bottles and getting up. You walk to the kitchen and place the empty bottles in the trash.  You grabbed two more beers, then headed back. You hand him a beer and sit down. The conversation turns to music.

"Have you ever written any songs before, Y/N?" Johnny questions, watching your every move.

"I have." You responded. "Back in the day."

"C'mon, give me an example." He laughs.

"Fine." You sigh. "Let me think."

You put down the bottle on the table and think about what song would be the most appropriate. It doesn't take you long to pick a song that you've had stuck in your head for days.

"Ok." You clear your throat. "I've got it."

"Well, go on then." Johnny urged you.

You take a deep breath, gather yourself, and begin singing the first few lines of the song. Your voice is soft and low as the words pour out. Johnny stares at you, his lips slightly parted and his eyes wide.

"Shit..." he breathes out. "I...that was..."

"Yuck." You pout.

"Not at all. That was amazing." He compliments, running his hands through his hair. "Why do you even doubt yourself when you sound this amazing?"

"Come on, Johnny. Be honest. You could tell, I could tell...that didn't sound right." You muttered, suddenly feeling stupid.

"No, it did. It was perfect. Why haven't you shared these with anyone?" Johnny frowns.

"Because I know what it's like to be told your work isn't good enough." You sighed. "Why do you think I went the business route in music? I can't tell you the amount of times I tried and was laughed out of the room. Told I couldn't sing, had no talent."

"Bullshit," Johnny argued.

"Tell me about it." You muttered.

"Anyway," Johnny changed the subject. "We have been drinking for quite a while." He gestured towards the empty beer bottles on your coffee table.

"Are you getting tired already?" You asked with a sly smile.

"I'm not getting tired. Are you tired?" Johnny quipped.

"Me? No." You replied.

"Then, shall we drink some more?" He questioned.

"Sure. If you're up for it." You nod.

"Excellent, let's keep drinking." Johnny smiled, excitedly.

The two of you sat and talked about music. You shared stories of when you were starting out, and how much you struggled in those early days. Johnny told stories of his time in the music industry. He had experienced some great successes and some great failures too.

As the night wore on, the conversation grew more personal. You spoke of your insecurities and fears, your doubts and failures. You both opened up to each other, sharing your innermost thoughts, emotions, and hopes. You realized that despite the years of rivalry and hostility, you were more alike than either of you had realized.

At that moment, something shifted between you.

The air was electric, the tension palpable.

You looked at each other, a silent question hanging between you, waiting to be answered.

You looked at him with a mixture of longing and desire. His eyes burned into yours, an invitation and a challenge, an unspoken dare to take the next step, the next move. The moment hung in the balance, the world slowing to a halt as the weight of the decision pressed down on you, heart hammering, mouth dry, palms sweaty.

"Are we going to do this? The project? You and me?" You asked as your eyes searched his face.

The corner of his mouth tugged up. "Why not? I like a little challenge."

Your eyes moved across his face, trying to gauge the depth of his sincerity, the authenticity of his words. Was he being serious? Or was this just another part of the game?

You weren't sure.

His gaze was intense, the brown eyes beneath the rimmed glasses burning through you. His smile, broad and lopsided, inviting yet mischievous. You swallowed, your heart rate picking up pace.

Did you dare? Were you willing to risk it all for a chance to be with him? A chance to finally lay your heart on the line? To take a gamble and see where it led? Your gaze met his and there was a flash of hunger in his eyes, a spark of desire that made your breath hitch in your throat and your body tremble with need.

Johnny was the sexiest man you'd ever laid eyes on, but more than that, you felt something with him. Something you'd never felt with anyone else.

Johnny leans in.

There was no turning back now.

You lean in and close your eyes, lips grazing his in a kiss. It's gentle, tentative, the beginning of something new, something exciting. The taste of him is intoxicating, and you deepen the kiss, your hands gripping his shirt, pulling him closer.

Johnny pulls back. "Y/N."

"Johnny," you breathe, and your voice is a soft, trembling whisper.

"Y/N, do you like me? Cause I like you, and I'm sick of dancing around each other." He tells you, his gaze unwavering.

"Yes," you manage to say and his lips curve upward.

He leans in again, and you close your eyes, the anticipation nearly making you tremble. His breath is hot against your face, and then his lips are on yours, capturing your mouth in a kiss so tender and sweet, that you sigh in pleasure, sinking into his arms, kissing him back.

"There's no turning back." He says. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," you murmur, your fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him down for another kiss.

His lips are soft and warm and they move slowly over yours as his tongue teases at your lower lip. He slides a hand around the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, and pulls you closer as he deepens the kiss, his tongue stroking yours in long, slow strokes. Your blood rushes through your body, heat pools in your core, and you feel weak in the knees.

It feels like a lifetime passes before you finally come up for air.

He rests his forehead against yours, eyes locked on yours, lips parted.

You smile. "So..."

Johnny runs a thumb over your bottom lip and your cheeks flush with heat. "So."

Your heart is pounding against your ribs and you feel like you might pass out.

"Do you want to get dinner with me?" Johnny asks, and the smile on his face is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen.

"I'd like that," you whisper. "I'd like that a lot."

The next few days passed in a blur and now you were sitting in one of the lecture halls with the students.

The joint project was coming together quite nicely and everyone seemed excited about it. You and Johnny were working well together and you could see that everyone was learning a lot. You couldn't help but wonder why the two of you hadn't teamed up like this before.

"Professor," One of the students in your class spoke up. "I'm still surprised that you and Professor Suh are working together on this."

"Yeah, me too." A student agreed. "I didn't think the both of you would join us. I thought you'd just oversee the project like we've done in the past."

"I understand, guys. It is a surprise." You nodded. "But isn't it a good opportunity to see how the professionals do it?"

"It's great." The student beamed. "We are so lucky to have you guys join us. You guys are so awesome!"

"I couldn't agree more." Johnny smiled.

Everyone was impressed by how hardworking you two were. The two of you were so determined to make this joint project a success. You had been working hard and making sure everyone was on track.

It was like this for a few days until one day you and Johnny were in the Music Production room.

Johnny's desk is a mess. It's cluttered with papers and all kinds of different musical instruments. His laptop is in the center of it, with all of the documents and folders that you and Johnny had been working on scattered all over it.

You sit at the piano, going over some songs and working on a few chords when Johnny suddenly comes up behind you and bends over, putting his hands on the piano, his face inches from yours.

"What are you doing?" You ask, turning to look at him. "What if one of the students sees us?"

"We are working on a project, right?" He smirks. "Don't you think that it's important for the students to see their professors getting involved with the project? Besides, I'm keeping it professional during work hours but after hours..."

He leans in closer and you can feel his breath on your face. He stares at you with those beautiful brown eyes, his lips curved in a devilish smile.

"I can't wait until after hours." He whispers. "I can't wait to be alone with you. To finally touch you the way I've been wanting to."

Your breath hitches in your throat as you watch him. You can feel your pulse quicken as his words register in your mind. You stare into his eyes, your heart skipping a beat. That night when you invited him up to your apartment ended with dinner and kisses. That's all it had been since then, a couple of kisses here and there. Nothing else.

You wanted more though. You wanted to feel his skin against yours. To hear him call your name as he moves within you. His words echo in your mind and your core tightens at the thought of being alone with him. Your lips part and you lick your lips as you watch him.

"What are you thinking about, Y/N?" His gaze drops to your lips. "I can read it all over your face. I wonder what else is running through that pretty little head of yours."

"If I tell you what's going through my mind," You whisper, staring into his eyes. "It won't be professional, Johnny."

"Who said I was looking for professional?" Johnny purred, licking his lips.

The words have barely left his lips when the classroom doors open, and a student enters the room.

You and Johnny straighten up.

"Professor." He calls you and greets Johnny.

The rest of the students enter soon.

The class was going along great, as the students were diligently working on the assignment Johnny and you had given to them. The project was a mix of audio-editing and music production. You two would switch back and forth on who gave the lessons since Johnny was a Music Production major and you were in business, but it worked well because you knew about the production side and had an ear for good music. You watched Johnny explaining something to the class, admiring his handsome face, the shape of his full lips, the strength of his jaw, and the muscles of his arms as he gestured to something on the screen. He was wearing his signature plastic black glasses. Those damn glasses.

He noticed you and gave you a flirty wink and a crooked grin, knowing how good he looked and how much he was teasing you.

One of the students asked a question. "What are some things to watch for while mixing tracks for the final project?"

Johnny grinned. "I would be careful to make sure all tracks are at the proper levels."

You rolled your eyes, taking in his words, noting how his mouth formed each word, and how his voice seemed to caress the words as he spoke. You wondered briefly, if that voice held the same tone during other things he did, such as whispering, singing, or...more intimate activities. You cleared your throat, banishing those thoughts for now, forcing yourself to concentrate.

Johnny continued.

"Always use crossfades," he says, "and add panning to make it sound as natural as possible."

The students nod, seemingly impressed.

"Yeah." You nodded. "For a perfect mix, we must pay attention to all of those little things. You won't have time to do that in a club situation, or maybe even at a concert, but for this type of project, and in an acoustically friendly room, you have plenty of time to fine-tune it. What you produce today should sound good in a club, but it shouldn't be flat. Always make adjustments. Pay close attention to things like volume and bass and use equalization to set levels and frequencies, making adjustments until it's at an optimum level."

"Professor Y/L/N, you know a lot about production!" One student exclaimed.

"Hey, I have the same skill set as Professor Suh." You said in amusement. "Music is my passion just the same as his."

Johnny winks at you and says. "Well, that's all the time we have today, class. No classes tomorrow but on Monday, Professor Y/L/N will have a lesson ready for you guys. Have a nice long weekend!"

The students clapped their hands and nodded. You waved at them and told them to have a nice long weekend.

Once the last student was out of the classroom you gave Johnny a big grin, the kind that showed all of your teeth, and he returned it, chuckling and running a hand through his messy dark hair.

"You look exceptionally good today, Professor Suh." You laughed.

"Me? You should see yourself, Professor L/N. If I'm the finest-looking professor here, you are definitely second." He teased, offering you his arm, which you took, looping it through his, laughing as the two of you exited the classroom and began your walk. "So, what are your plans for this weekend?" He asked.

You had to think for a minute as the two of you walked through the campus to your usual meeting place, the university coffee shop, before responding. "Probably nothing...unless I can convince a certain professor that it's finally after hours."

"You know," Johnny began. "I might be convinced if the professor would accompany me to dinner."

You gasped in fake shock and he just winked at you. "Only if said professor brings a good bottle of wine."

"Sounds fair enough," Johnny replied. "Say, tonight around seven, your place?"

You chuckled, giving a little shrug, as the two of you walked into the coffee shop. It was empty aside from the two baristas who had their backs turned, chatting happily as they were stocking the display cases.

"I suppose we have a deal," you agreed, ordering the two of you coffee.

The day passed with meetings and grading tests until the clock showed seven o'clock. Your doorbell buzzed and your stomach did a flip as you pressed the button to allow him access. When he appeared, his knock sounded, and your hands shook slightly as you opened the door.

"Hey," he smiled. "I got a couple bottles of wine...and, something special."

"Something special?" You cocked your head. "You are already enough of a surprise, Johnny."

He lifts the bag with a laugh, taking the two bottles of wine out.

"Oh." You gasp, taking in the other object.

A box of condoms.

"You have a big head if you assume we'll go through all those condoms," you chuckle and hold the door open for him to enter.

"Better to have it and not use it than to need it and have it missing." Johnny places a light kiss on your cheek as he enters.

Dinner is a delicious meal made by Johnny and even though he is the cook, you help him serve. Johnny then fills your glass and settles across the table, waiting for you to sample the dish. Johnny is staring intently at your face when you take your first bite and his gaze turns amused and maybe just a tad smug when a moan slips from your lips.

The food is amazing. As he starts eating his meal, your brain wanders to thoughts of sharing more meals with him. Sitting at this same table eating breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Sharing coffee and toast in the morning. Drinking smoothies in the kitchen while you cook or the two of you preparing the food together, hip to hip as the music is softly playing in the background.

After dinner, the dishes are left in the sink. You will take care of those later.

Instead, Johnny follows you to the couch with the bottle of wine in one hand, and two wine glasses dangling in the other. You settle on the couch and Johnny places the glasses and bottle on the low table in front of the couch. He fills both glasses and offers you one. You thank him and take a sip. The liquid leaves a sweet taste on your tongue and a pleasant warmth in your throat.

You settle yourself into a corner of the couch and he takes the other corner, stretching his long legs out in front of him and sighing, clearly relieved to be off his feet for a while.

"Dinner was delicious." You say softly, a slight blush tinting your cheeks.

"Thank you. I enjoyed cooking it for you." Johnny said, his eyes dancing with joy as you shifted in your seat a bit to take another sip of wine.

You find yourself holding his gaze, staring into his deep brown eyes, so full of life. You set your wine glass down on the table, careful not to spill it, and smile up at him.

"What?" He smiles, putting his wine glass next to yours, and looking at you.

"Nothing." You reach up to cup his cheek, his skin warm, and lean up, brushing your lips against his.

He moves slowly against you, his lips caressing yours and it feels so good. Johnny's hands rest on your shoulders. One slides down to wrap around your waist, pulling you close to him. His tongue grazes your lips and you sigh into the kiss, opening your mouth. His tongue slips inside to explore. You allow his tongue to roam your mouth before tangling your own with his.

This time Johnny moans and pulls your lower lip gently with his teeth, eliciting another sigh from you. Slowly, reluctantly, you pull away from him, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He licks his lips and leans forward to give you a soft peck on the lips.

"Do you know how much I love kissing you?" He whispers.

"Yes." You giggle as you remove his glasses, holding them in one of your hands. You toss the spectacles behind you, and it falls on the coffee table. You slide your other hand into his messy hair, pulling his lips back to yours for a few seconds before pulling away.

"Now, we're getting somewhere," he chuckles.

"Mhm, yes." You stare at Johnny, tracing a line on the side of his jaw.

Johnny takes his fingers and places them beneath your chin, lifting your face to meet his. His lips meet yours and he kisses you softly, tenderly. When he breaks the kiss, his fingertips trace the outline of your lips, his brown eyes fixated upon them. His hands move up to cradle the sides of your head and he presses his mouth against yours once again. Your body shudders at the sensations that come flooding over you.

"Johnny..."

"Y/N..."

The whisper of your name causes goosebumps to rise upon the surface of your skin, a small gasp escapes your lips, a quick intake of breath, and a trembling breath follows. He breaks his mouth away, his breath heavy and deep. You run your finger lightly up and down the side of his neck, staring into his eyes. Your other hand slowly moves its way up his back, while the other holds the back of his head. His breathing grows labored as you do so, his lips slightly parting, revealing the faintest trace of a smile.

You begin to realize that there may not be any turning back for you. You may be committing yourself completely, fully, and without hesitation to a relationship with this man. The knowledge scares you but at the same time, the feeling is so right.

"Y/N..." With your name falling from his perfect lips, Johnny captures them again in another kiss, this time placing his tongue between your lips.

The pressure from his mouth is almost too much for you. A moan of satisfaction and desire passes your lips and mingles with the kiss.

Johnny begins to trail wet, feverish kisses down the side of your neck. Now and again he allows his teeth to graze the flesh, eliciting a moan of pleasure from deep within your being. His hands reach behind and grasp the zipper to your dress, pulling it down and allowing the garment to fall to the ground in a heap. You reached up and ran your hand under his white shirt and you could feel the heat of his toned stomach, and the contours of his chest. He helped you pull the shirt off over his head and tossed it on top of the pile of clothes that now lay beneath the two of you. Your own hands then began to work their magic, teasing his skin while unbuttoning his jeans.

Johnny then reaches for your bra, and you feel your face get flush when he snaps the hooks on either side and removes the garment. His hands then cup your full, round breasts, causing them to harden at the sensation, and a small whimper comes from your lips.

"Aren't you glad I brought those condoms?" Johnny chuckled.

"We're going to use at least one..." You laugh.

"And all the other rounds? What about then?" Johnny teased.

"Why are we talking when we can be doing other things, Suh?" You push him on the shoulder lightly. "Hmm?"

Johnny grins that wide-teeth-showing smile, and leans in, cupping your face. He leaves a peck on your cheek and moves his lips lower, kissing down your neck and to your shoulder.

"Ah, don't stop now." You close your eyes, leaning your head back, enjoying his lips' dance on your bare skin.

"Are you sure?" Johnny mutters against you, kissing below your collarbone. "Am I going to hear complaints when the students notice bruises on Monday?"

"I'm sure our college students do the same thing as we are doing, Suh," You let out a breathy sigh, pushing him back to sit on the couch before dropping to the floor, settling yourself in the space between Johnny's legs, which spread just for you.

"Not that I want to think of students when you're about to blow me," Johnny chuckles, fingers running through your hair. "I'd rather it be you on my mind."

"Yeah? What else is on your mind?" You ask, reaching to stroke his cock.

"What do you want me to say?" He purrs and his hand fists your hair.

You don't answer, instead, you trace the swollen, red head of his cock with your tongue before wrapping your lips around him, feeling how his hips move, trying to thrust deeper inside you. Your hands squeeze his thick thighs, urging him silently on and when you swirl your tongue along the head he gasps.

"What else?" Your voice is just a little above a whisper, teasing him by speaking while his length sits heavy on your tongue.

"How I've been wanting you? Fuck." Johnny groans when your head starts to bob.

You work his dick thoroughly, fondle his heavy balls, humming around the full length of his shaft while keeping steady eye contact.

"Shit." Johnny curses under his breath, closing his eyes, hand in your hair gripping a handful of it tightly and making a slight sound in the back of his throat.

He shivers, and you hear him hissing, and soon enough you feel your pussy clenching around nothing and juices leaking on the rug under you as you're not wearing your underwear and a small mewl comes out of you.

You then pull him closer against your face, taking him fully.

"Oh shit, that's good." He rasps.

You reach forward to rub his thigh, tracing the muscles that clench now and again beneath his warm, smooth skin. Johnny is a handsome specimen of a man. And he tastes and smells even better.

With another jerk of your mouth, you feel Johnny's fingers twist within your hair, causing your eyes to flicker shut. His body quivers as he lets out a low groan, his mouth open wide and the corners upturned slightly. You suck harder, bobbing your head quickly. Johnny moans, pushing your head further down onto his throbbing cock, trying his hardest not to be overly rough, or to release before he needs to.

"Baby, can I cum on your pretty face?" He mutters, using a gentle grip to pull your head upwards, looking deep into your lust-filled eyes.

Your jaw hurts, you're gasping, and you pull his cock free from your mouth with a wet sound. "Please."

"So good, baby girl. You look so good right now." Johnny grins as he looks down at you, his hand going to pump his shaft. He licks his lips, feeling that familiar heat coil in his abdomen. He jerks himself faster, looking you in the eyes, watching the way they seem to beg him. 

"I've wanted to see those lips of yours covered in my cum since I first met you." Johnny grits out, pumping his shaft harder and faster. "Want to see that cum dripping from that pretty chin of yours, hear your moans as you clean every drop up."

His words and his actions leave you desperate, so horny, and so, so needy.

"Fuck, baby, you're such a dirty, dirty girl," Johnny grunts, his balls tightening as he aims his cock toward your awaiting face. His orgasm washes over him in an instant. "Open up, I'm gonna give you what you're after, baby." 

He shoots ropes of his load onto your face, hitting your nose, lips, and chin. 

"Such a sexy little mess." Johnny rasped as he wiped the last of his cum across your chin with his thumb, rubbing it along your lips. "Swallow that up, dirty girl."

"Yummy," you said, swallowing the whole load, and licking his thumb.

His hand lowers, tracing down the length of your neck to rest upon your collarbone, his index finger hooking underneath to gently pull you toward him. "Won't you have more?" he purrs, his hand cupping your breast.

You place his fingers into your mouth, wrapping your lips around them, moaning as you suck gently, allowing them to graze the inside of your cheek. His smile turned seductive, his thumb dragging across his lips as you began to move, pushing yourself back toward the middle of the couch. You lean down toward his cock once more, licking, nipping, nibbling, and sucking on it, becoming lost in his moans and grunts.

"Just like that baby," Johnny purrs, running his hand through your hair. "Show me what a slut you can be."

Your hands move up and down the length of his shaft, and he lets out another loud gasp, throwing his head back against the cushions, his hands threading their way through your locks of hair. "F-fuck. Baby, you're s-so damn good. I need to f-feel you wrapped around me. Now."

You tilt your head and give him a devilish grin, crawling up his body, kissing him until you straddle his waist. You reached for the box of condoms and ripped the package open. Reaching for his cock once more, he groans loudly as you hold him firmly, stroking the entire length of him while continuing to kiss him. Once the condom was on, you reached behind yourself and grabbed Johnny's thick cock, and aimed it toward the opening of your pussy, lowering yourself onto him with a pleasured cry.

"God. Fuck, you feel amazing, Johnny." You sigh contentedly, slowly beginning to move up and down his solid erection. You plant your hands firmly upon his chest for support, your body grinding against him, setting your tempo and pace. His large hands, in return, wrapped around your back and gripped your sides as his hips began to buck with you, his groin moving upward, matching your tempo, driving his cock as deeply inside of you as he could.

"You really like it like this, baby? Good and hard?" Johnny grunted, as your bodies slammed together over and over again, the sounds of loud moaning and skin-on-skin contact filling the room.

"Fuck, yes." You cry, grinding your hips, tightening your pelvic muscles. Johnny growls as his hands travel to your ass, giving it a nice squeeze, guiding your movements against him.

"This is the most intense, sexual encounter I've ever had, and it's with a music professor," you pant, picking up speed. One of Johnny's hands tightens its grip, then slides up and down your thighs as he holds you in his lap. You reach up, entwining your fingers with his other hand, which rests atop your breast.

He guides your arm behind his neck, pulling you in. "Well my fellow music professor," Johnny said, looking deep into your eyes as you bounced up and down in his lap. He presses his mouth close to your ear and whispers, "...I could tell the same about you too," before bringing his lips back to yours.

"Have we become more than rivals?" You sigh when your lips separate.

"Yeah."

You never thought in a million years you'd hook up with one of your co-workers. Never thought in a million years you'd hook up with a music professor like Johnny. 

But yet, here you were.

As you walked through campus a few days later, you spotted Johnny heading towards the parking lot with some music equipment under his arms.

As usual, students flocked around him with smiles and hellos, not letting him out of their sight.

After you had successfully dealt with the students, who had gathered around and asked the inevitable question of: 'Are the two of you dating?' The topic of the question wasn't new to you, it seemed that students had come up with such an idea even before you had ever done anything together. Their questions were answered when Johnny placed the equipment down before leaning in to press a light, lingering kiss to your lips.

The students' eyes went wide in surprise. One of the guys whistled, and another wolf whistled. A group of girls were whispering furiously about how hot you two look, another saying that it took you long enough to go out with each other, the rest not believing the fact that you're kissing each other in front of everyone.

"Yeah, yeah. Your two favorite hot music professors are dating now. Get used to the idea, and move along." You laughed along with the students. Once they all disbursed, Johnny leaned in once again, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and you felt your stomach flutter with butterflies when he pecked you on the lips.

"Happy now? Happy now?" You mutter against his lips. "Now the whole school is going to know we're together. I can hear the rest of the faculty members already, yapping their mouths off about it."

He rested his forehead on yours and let out a short laugh. "Hah! Like they could ruin this perfect moment." He rubbed his nose against yours playfully.

"They could try!" You giggled, pressing another quick kiss against his soft lips, then whispered, "Your place?"

He simply smirked, putting his equipment in the car. "After you."

His apartment was, dare you say it, perfect. The furniture was minimal, though there was a lot of electronics scattered around, probably expensive recording equipment. He had an incredible vinyl collection and a whole wall full of CDs and records. Everything about the place smelled and looked like Johnny; classy, expensive, cool.

"Wow, Johnny. How'd you ever find the perfect mix between elegance and laziness in apartment designing?"

"I'm just naturally awesome." He grinned, shutting and locking the door to the house. "Anyway," he set the instruments down by the door and made his way toward you, smirking devilishly. "How about you show me what kind of sounds you're into making first."

You felt his hand on your lower back, guiding you gently to his couch as he removed his coat, leaving the garment discarded in a pile on the floor. His hands slid around your hips, drawing you close to him, your bodies flush together. "Let me hear the pretty music you'll make just for me." He purred.

"As much as I would love to make music on your couch...I wonder how it will sound in your bed, Johnny." You gave him a smirk of your own as you caressed his cheeks with both hands.

"Good. Great even." He bent down to capture your lips in his as his arms slid under your thighs, lifting you easily. He carried you into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. Gently lying you down, you watched him peel off his shirt.

He's attractive in school clothes, you have to admit, but he's really gorgeous out of those clothes.

You knew your mouth was gaping slightly from looking at his abs and chest, and Johnny only smiled wider, removing the remainder of his clothing. You admired the definition of his ass as you felt yourself getting wet with anticipation, eager to feel him against you.

With one swift movement, he was hovering above you, lips on your neck as his hands roamed over your body. His fingers make quick work of the buttons of your blouse, moving downward until he reaches the button and zipper on your skirt. Soon, those were gone, and you were left with only a thin strip of material covering your modesty.

You bite your lip, unable to resist a whimper at the feeling of his breath against your bare skin, followed by the warm touch of his tongue. "Johnny."

A grin appeared, his teeth scraping lightly before his lips trailed back up your throat, nipping gently at your chin as he shifted. Johnny pulls you against his naked body, his lips trailing along your collarbone and stopping at your ear to suckle on the flesh, teasing it with his teeth. "That feels nice, but I want your mouth somewhere else." You giggle, sliding your panties off your legs. 

"Eager, are we, my sexy professor?" He smirked.

You prop yourself up, arms on the pillow under your head, and watch Johnny shift, kissing the side of your left knee before he moves down, planting soft, tender pecks along the inside of your thigh. The closer he got, the slower he moved. Every touch felt electrified, making you writhe beneath him as his eyes remained focused on the glistening center between your thighs.

When his tongue finally grazed your swollen, slick clit, you had to bite your lip hard. It took nearly everything inside you to keep from screaming. Your eyes widened, and a low, soft moan escaped from your mouth.

"Ah, I see. You like that." Johnny murmured, moving his hand, his lips gliding across your thigh until he found your need once more, kissing you long and slow.

Your arms tensed at your sides, balling into fists as you pulled at the sheet below you. Everything he does leaves your mind blank, causing all sorts of new sensations. A shudder ran through you, a gasp, and his name escaped your parted lips, making his touch linger.

"The pretty noises coming from your lips are like music to my ears." He smiles wickedly. "Music I would love to produce."

Johnny looks up, eyes meeting your gaze as he buries his face between your thighs, flicking his tongue back and forth quickly over your clit. He loves how you writhe beneath him. The sight and taste of you.

"Shit, Johnny." You moaned a little louder this time as your knees went weak at his touch, fingers curling tighter in the bedsheet.

"How do you want it?" His voice vibrating into you makes you arch your back.

You wrap one leg around his shoulder, bucking your hips, silently pleading for more. He wastes no time, picking up the pace of his ministrations, humming with each pass of his tongue. The sensation is overwhelming, and the world around you spins, making you cling desperately to the bedding, holding onto it as if your life depended on it.

The sounds coming out of your mouth become louder and louder, mixing with his humming and moans as his fingers join in the action. He works diligently at bringing your release, listening to the pleasured whimpers coming from you, and you won't last much longer before you're spasming, muscles tensing up in the euphoria, eyes rolling back as he continues licking and kissing.

When you finally collapse into the bed, your body shaking, a hand runs up your leg, and Johnny is crawling over you, pressing his lips to yours. He kisses your jaw, your cheeks, your nose, and your forehead, pecking your lips every so often.

"There's my pretty professor, so responsive. So beautiful." He whispers into your hair, hands still massaging your thigh. He reached over to his nightstand where a condom sat ready. Tearing the foil packet and rolling it down over his length, Johnny brushed the back of his fingers gently across the expanse of your inner thigh and settled them along your heat, rubbing you a few more times before shifting forward until the head of his length was resting right against your entrance.

Johnny had leaned forward and was now licking up the length of your neck before taking the skin between his teeth and giving it a harsh nibble. "Can't wait to feel you wrapped around me."

You squirm and twist, letting his tongue snake its way into your mouth again as he gives your bottom lip another tug. Slowly, his tip began to push into you and it wasn't long before the entirety of his length was nestled snugly inside you, filling you to the hilt.

"Damn, baby," Johnny growled into your ear, as he rocked his hips forward to further bury himself inside. "How am I going to control myself with you gripping me like this? So tight." 

For a second, you two lock eyes and stare into each other's soul. Then, without warning, Johnny pulls his hips back and thrusts forward roughly, groaning into your ear at the motion. With the slowest, most deliberate rhythm, he pushes himself deep inside before pulling almost entirely back, the both of you grunting loudly from the pleasure that is running up your body in shivers, eyes scrunched tightly closed as he slowly, agonizingly begins to speed up.

"Fuck," Johnny groaned out, thrusting quicker now. Your ass was bouncing wildly on the bed, as you squeezed his waist with your thighs, wrapping your calves around his lower back.

His hips rolled fluidly as he drilled into you, burying himself as deep as your body would let him. Your screams became louder, echoing off of the walls in Johnny's room. Johnny grunted in satisfaction and gripped your breast in one hand as your back arched upwards, your mind spinning.

"Damn, baby. That's it. Take my cock deep inside that sweet cunt. Take it deep. Deeper. Deeper."

In an instant, Johnny is pulling his cock out of you, flipping your body so that you're belly-down against the soft mattress of his bed. His fingertips grip you tightly, almost roughly as he grabs your hips and thrusts into you again. He picked up where he left off, filling you completely once again before he pulled back and then shoved forward once more. His thick member slips further than you thought were possible, pushing roughly through your walls as they expand around him, allowing him to press harder against the perfect spot.

You gripped the sheets tightly once again, burying your face in his comforter as you began to feel your legs shake. A loud moan resonates throughout your body and travels out your throat. Johnny can't help but release a satisfied groan himself, leaning forward to place sloppy kisses and licks up your spine and to the back of your neck.

"Johnny...it feels so fucking good," you whined softly into the sheets.

"Shit... I know," he replies, sounding strained himself.

It doesn't take long for the pressure to build.

Panting and grunting, you both grew nearer and nearer. The tension inside you began to rise with each thrust. Your legs were already shaking in anticipation.

Your mouth opens as you let out a strangled, satisfied scream of, "FUCK," as the euphoric explosion of sensations starts to flood over you. Johnny groans loudly into the crook of your neck, his arms squeezing you close as he shouts, too, hips bucking desperately as he reaches his climax along with you.

Breaths come out labored.

Johnny pulled himself out slowly, careful not to make a mess. With shaking arms, he pushes himself up, tossing the used condom before plopping down beside you, arm wrapping around your middle.

He pulled you into his chest, cuddling you.

After the orgasm faded, his hand rested gently atop the curve of your hip as he rubbed his thumb gently over your skin, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head.

He hummed a soft melody against your skin and it made your chest hum pleasantly with adoration. You ran your fingers softly down his cheek.

"Hi."

"Hi. You doing okay?"

You turn, draping your leg over his body, and curl closer into his warm, soft embrace. You gently run your finger along his jawline and then caress his lower lip. His dark eyes focus on you with loving admiration and warmth.

"Mm, perfect," you smile.

He smiles back, leaning in and places his lips tenderly against yours, then closes the distance, kissing you again, and again.

Your rival has become so much more than that.

More than a co-worker.

You fell asleep cuddled in the arms of your new music partner and love.

[ja3yun]

Melting Point | P.SH | CH.7

brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (f. rec), fingering, spitting, dirty talk, praise kink, petnames (good girl, baby), anything else lmk. ch. 7 synopsis: minhee comes to you with the missing pieces of information you need, leading you to find the courage to speak to sunghoon, hoping you can reconcile. wc: 14.9k previous | masterlist | next a/n: hi! this chapter is filled with plot and answers to questions so i am hoping it all makes sense. again, thank you for the love on the last chapter! next week is the penultimate chapter so everything is starting to tie up so please enjoy <3

Scanning the next customer's shop, your shoulders are heavy with sadness. It’s not ideal to be working the day after you just lost the love of your life but reality doesn’t stop for your problems. If you weren’t in desperate need of the money, you would have just neglected to show up.

You haven’t slept, your eyes are a darker shade than before, and the smile you couldn’t stop plastering over your face the past couple of months is non-existent. 

Last night, you went home just like Coach Lee had instructed but you don’t know if it was the best idea. The journey home with your mum was filled with her yapping about how true love never existed and how she knew his plan was this all along. There was no sympathy from her, not a surprise considering her face yesterday looked like she just won the lottery. 

Minhee, on the other hand, sat silent, fizzing from head to toe. Honestly, you expected him to be fuming since Sunghoon was the factor in your current drift from one another, however, you did expect an undertone similar to your mothers gloating; he should be telling you ‘I told you so’ but instead he seems less boastful and more resentful. 

"Your total comes to £54.35," you murmur in a monotone, extending your hand for the payment from the elderly woman. As she counts out each pound coin, you find yourself retreating into your thoughts once more, replaying the events over and over again.

Sunghoon looked so sincere when he told you it wasn’t him on the recorded phone call. The biggest question that twirled in your mind was how your mum got the audio in the first place. Sunghoon's assertion that he was only friends with Jay and Jake, who wouldn't betray him, seemed plausible, he hadn’t ever mentioned anyone but them in all the times you have spoken. So, who could have provided it to her?

That’s what you should have questioned when you had the chance, instead of letting your mind loop in on itself and confuse you to the point you didn’t even hear Sunghoon out. 

You want to reach out and ask him to meet you but it wasn’t just you that got hurt yesterday.

If there’s one image that’s sticking in the forefront of your brain right now, it’s Sunghoon’s face when he found out you lied to him. Perhaps you should have questioned everything then, considering how shattered he appeared. Someone who set out to betray you wouldn’t look so devastated that you hurt them, would they?

You're also gripped with anxiety that getting in touch with Sunghoon would make things worse and he'll reveal Minhee's actions to the National Board. It scares you to think of your brother losing his chance to skate and being disqualified from competition. 

Space might be just what you all need.

But finding that space is proving to be a challenge when your mind is consumed by these thoughts incessantly. You feel utterly overwhelmed, your mental state crumbling, leaving you feeling helpless.

The old lady hands over the money, and you mechanically carry on with your shift.

Once it's over, you contemplate your options for where to go next. Normally, the rink would be your refuge, but it feels too loaded with memories right now. Rina's occupied with her anniversary date with Allen, leaving you with no one else to turn to. The library, despite being open 24 hours, holds no appeal; the idea of sitting in silence, trying to study, feels like torture.

With a tired yawn, you realise there's only one place left to go: home.

______

Kicking off your shoes at the door, you trudge up the stairs, each step feeling like an effort as exhaustion weighs heavily on your limbs. The lure of your bed grows stronger with each passing moment as if it's calling out to you louder with every step.

You notice that your mum's bedroom light is off, signalling that she's already asleep, while Minhee's room emits the usual blue glow of his computer screen. If it weren't for the ache in your heart, this could easily pass for a typical Wednesday night.

Entering your room, you're greeted by an unexpected sight. It's not as you left it; the bed is neatly made, your stuffed toys lined up by the pillows, your desk reorganised the way you like it, and all your clothes tidily put away. Someone has cleaned for you, a rare occurrence unless you're sick.

The one prominent feature of your newly organised room is the gleaming glass trophy on your windowsill. It stands proudly, displaying your achievement to everyone as they enter the room. 

This had to be Minhee’s doing, your mum would never go to these lengths.

Unfortunately, the award just serves as a memory to Sunghoon rather than yourself. It was the night you became officially his, the night you threw all guilt and caution to the wind so you could claim him as yours. 

Taking the trophy, you toss it in your top drawer and shut it roughly, not caring about the damage you could cause it.

With no energy to shower, you change into pyjamas. It’s a bad idea to slip into one of Sunghoon’s hoodies but as it envelopes you in warmth on the cold night, you don’t think about it twice. The smell of him still lingering as you put up the hood punches you in the chest. You miss him, it’s as simple as that. 

As you sink into the welcoming embrace of your bed, the weight of the day gradually begins to lift from your shoulders, only to be replaced by a hollow ache that settles in the pit of your stomach. Closing your eyes, you attempt to banish the tumultuous thoughts swirling in your mind and drift into sleep.

You toss and turn, trying to find a comfortable position, but your mind refuses to quiet down. Images of Sunghoon's smile and the warmth of his hugs dance behind your eyelids, taunting you. Every time you close your eyes, it's like you're transported back to happier times. 

For what seems like hours, your heart and brain fight with one another, much like the night before. Your heart aches to be with Sunghoon, to trust him completely while your head rationalises the evidence presented to you by your mother. 

Just as you begin to resign yourself to another sleepless night, a soft knock at your door interrupts your thoughts. Minhee's concerned voice cuts through the silence, drawing your attention, "Y/N? Are you still awake?"

With a frustrated huff, you turn your back to Minhee, a silent declaration of your anger and hurt. Acting this way may seem childish, but this is how you’ve always acted towards him when conflicts arise between you, like you regress back to being kids.

Minhee sighs, walking to the edge of your bed before helping himself to a seat beside you, “You don’t have to speak to me but you can listen.” He looks down at his hands, wondering how to broach the situation, the words aren’t coming so easily, “I…I know I did something really shitty, okay? I shouldn’t have fucked with his skate like that, Mum just…” 

When he pauses, your intrigue is piqued and you twist your head to look at him. You can see his internal battle whether to tell you something or keep it to himself. The rooted anger towards your brother grows a little, “This is the only opportunity I’m giving you to explain yourself,” you warn him with a hidden urge for him to continue.

He breathes out slowly, his voice carrying the weight of a burden, "Mum just put so much pressure on me to win, like all she’s spoken about was how I need to place first,” his words quiver slightly, a reflection of the self-doubt flooding his body.

It's astonishing how one woman can make both her children feel so worthless.

As you turn to face Minhee, his expression mirrors the familiar blend of anguish and self-doubt that you've seen on Sunghoon's face countless times. It's a painful reminder of the weight their mothers' expectations have placed upon them.

"Mini, you could easily beat Sunghoon at Nationals. You didn't have to listen to Mum," you offer, your voice laced with both empathy and frustration.

The issue has never been Sunghoon or Minhee; it's always been their mums.

Minhee takes a deep breath, steeling himself to reveal the truth that he's been carrying with him all this time, "Listen to me," he begins, his voice tinged with bitterness, "Mum needs me to win."

Your confusion deepens, leaving lines of bewilderment etched on your face as you struggle to comprehend his words, "What?" you ask, all tiredness suddenly leaving your body.

"The odds of me winning aren’t in my favour, so she put on a bet. She'll get shit tons of money if I win. She put basically all her savings into it, all my money too," his jaw clenches as he recalls the conversation they had.

Your confusion escalates further as Minhee's revelations continue to unfold before you. "Since when was Mum into gambling?" you ask, the disbelief evident in your voice.

Minhee sighs heavily, his frustration palpable as he struggles to find the right words, "There's so much you don't know about her, Bubs," he admits, his tone tinged with regret, "The gambling isn't even above board. It's all underground-type shit with high rates. I swear I didn't know anything about any of it until she guilt-tripped me into going along with her scheme."

There was no denying your Mum was a little secretive, especially after your dad left, but this is not anything like you could have imagined. You had always wondered where your Mum got the money to support Minhee’s skating but his brand deals were good enough to keep you all afloat, so you just presumed it was that.

Minhee sees you calculating in your head and decides to continue, “Once she told me, I started practising like crazy, I trained almost every day just to be in with a chance but she wasn’t confident enough so she told me-”

"To break Hoon’s skate," you finish his sentence for him, the pieces of the puzzle snapping into place with a chilling clarity.

You knew something was off that morning - the way your Mum was extra harsh on him, telling him to make sure he ‘gets it done’. It was such unusual phrasing that you should have clocked on to it sooner.

This is exactly why you didn’t want to tell Sunghoon about it. You wanted to get to the bottom of it all because you were filled with suspicion from the get-go. The thought of your own mother putting Minhee in a position like this fills you with a mixture of anger and disbelief. 

“Why did you go along with it? If she doesn’t get the money, that’s her problem, no?” you query, trying to tie every string of this situation together for your own peace of mind.

Minhee sucks his teeth and looks away from you, “You know how much effort and time she put into my career, she sacrificed everything for it, her old job, money, even the breakdown of her marriage was because of me. I owe her this.” He’s withholding some information, using this as the sole his sole reason for helping, but there is more to it, you can tell that much.

Your chest fills with hurt as you speak, “The divorce wasn’t your fault, Mini. Mrs. Park started that rumour and it drove Dad to leave. That has zero to do with you. Plus, she pushed you to go professional when you were a child, you didn’t exactly beg her to let you compete. You owe her nothing.”

You know for a fact it’s her words that have made him believe he is the route of all her problems. If only you paid closer attention to what was going on, maybe you could have counteracted her venom with something, anything, to help him believe he wasn’t tied to her like this. 

Taking one of his hands, you scoot closer to him, the warmth of his presence a balm to your troubled soul. Resting your head on his shoulder, you feel the weight of the world pressing down on both of you. "You should have told me, Minhee. I could have helped you."

He shakes his head before encircling an arm around your back, pulling you closer to him as if seeking solace in your embrace, "I wanted to protect you. She would have dragged you into it as well if she could," he confesses, his voice tinged with regret, "I regret it. I wish I just didn’t let her manipulate me into doing that to Sunghoon. I can’t tell you how relieved I was when I saw him at the rink that day we were doing the peer reviews."

It shocks you to hear him say that, considering he’s usually cursing the boy's name every time he was forced within 10 feet of him.

There was one thing that didn’t add up though, “Wait, if mum put the bet on, wouldn’t the bet be just to beat him? Why did she try and knock him out altogether with the skate? Surely that would cancel out the bet and she wouldn’t win the money?” you query, hoping your brother has the answers.

He shakes his head, “She never wanted him out of competition, just to injure him enough that he wouldn’t be able to compete to his usual standard, y’know? I would be in with a chance of beating him then,” he tells you, stroking your side, “It was touch and go for a minute, I don’t know what she would have done if he couldn’t compete.”

Underneath your head, you feel his shoulders tense up again, causing you to lift your face to look at him, concern etched into your features. "Is there more?" you ask, dreading the answer but knowing you can't avoid it.  He knows more than he is letting on, you can tell.

“Look, I’m going to say something that sounds so batshit crazy, okay, but you gotta believe me,” he says, his tone urgent, “And you know I’m not Sunghoon’s number one supporter, so you know I wouldn’t lie to make him look good.”

"Oh my god, Mini, just tell me, please," you plead, unable to bear the suspense any longer.

"The phone call was fake," he confesses, gingerly meeting your eyes as you give him a look of astonishment

Your mind reels at his revelation, struggling to comprehend the implications of what he's just said, "Fake? How? Don’t tell me you were a part of this too?"

“Fuck no, I was as shocked as you were,” Minhee protests, taking a deep breath before divulging what he knows, “I went searching after it all didn’t add up. Like, who the fuck records conversations like that in the first place, never mind sending them to Mum?”

You have to agree with him, the question also did come to your mind once you calmed down.

As he takes out his phone, Minhee's expression darkens with seriousness, his fingers tapping across the screen to reveal a series of emails. He shows you the correspondence between your mum and someone named Soohyun, highlighting the transactions and agreements outlined within.

"She paid him money to use some sort of AI to make it sound like Sunghoon was saying all that stuff about you and your relationship," Minhee explains, his voice laced with disbelief and anger, "It was one last attempt to fuck with him before the competition. She really needs that money, Bubs."

Shock courses through you, a tidal wave of disbelief crashing against the shores of your consciousness. The realisation sinks in slowly, each email adding another layer to the intricate web of deceit woven by your mother, "I-I can't believe this," you stutter, struggling to process the enormity of what he's just revealed.

Minhee gently takes the phone from your hand, returning it to his hoodie pocket with a sigh, "I know. It's like something out of a bad TV show, but it's true," he admits, his tone heavy with resignation. As his hand finds yours, a sense of solidarity washes over you, his touch offering a small measure of comfort amidst the chaos.

"To be honest, I had kinda knew it was fake," Minhee continues, his words slow and measured, "Don't get me wrong, I was livid at the idea of anyone using you that way. But on the drive home, I realized, this is Park Sunghoon we're talking about. He wouldn't dare to do that to you."

Confusion clouds your features as you furrow your brow, struggling to make sense of his words. "Huh? What are you talking about?" you ask, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

Minhee's expression softens as he meets your gaze, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "He liked you for so long, like for years. You were just so oblivious to it," he explains, his tone gentle yet matter-of-fact. "If he has the chance to date you, he's not going to take it for granted, and certainly not use you just to mess with my head."

As Minhee's words sink in, a flicker of realisation dawns upon you. Memories of Sunghoon's lingering glances and subtle gestures flood your mind, painting a picture of unspoken feelings that had gone unnoticed for far too long, "Do you know he asked me for permission to date you when we were like 15 maybe? I can't really remember exactly…but anyway, I told him to get lost," Minhee adds with a wry grin, his words punctuated by a hint of nostalgia.

Now this was new information. All you knew was that Sunghoon had knocked you back when you asked him out about that age.

“I had my reasons.”

His voice echoes in your brain as you recall what he said at the ice rink on your first date as an official couple. All this time, you had believed Sunghoon's rejection was solely his decision, unaware of Minhee's influence behind the scenes, “You told him to say no to me? Did you know I was going to confess?” Anger rises within you, not real anger but the one that siblings have for each other when one steals the remote control or eats the leftover food they were saving.

"Whoa, yeah, okay, but you have to understand I was protecting you. I don’t even know what Mum would have done back then if you started dating him, especially because it was so close after Dad left," Minhee's voice is laced with remorse as he hangs his head. "I know I had no right to tell him to leave you alone, but…"

The anger in you subsides as you see him slump a little.

"You're the most important person in my life, Y/N. You're my little sister, my best friend," he continues, his voice trembling with emotion, "He took championships and brand deals from me, fine, but if he took you away from me, particularly back then, I think I would have died." He avoids your gaze, his admission laden with shame at his insecurities.

His words weigh heavily on your heart, the depth of his love and fear for you leaving you speechless, “I’m your sister, Mini. He could never tak-”

“Hasn’t he?” His interjection silences you, “You stopped coming to my practices, we don’t hang out anymore, it’s like I barely see you,”

His words strike a chord, piercing through the haze of your own emotions. Suddenly, the gravity of his words sinks in, and you realise the toll that recent events have taken on your relationship with Minhee. You were so caught up in yourself that you hadn’t factored in how the distance would affect him. 

Being caught up in your newfound relationship, you inadvertently left behind the one person who had always been there for you, the one who needed you the most. Guilt washes over you as you realize the depth of Minhee's loneliness and isolation in your absence. You and Minhee had been each other's rock for so long, but now, it feels like you're drifting apart, and you can't help but feel responsible.

A heavy silence envelops the room, thick with unspoken regrets and untold truths. You feel the weight of Minhee's gaze upon you, his eyes pleading for understanding.

"I... I didn't realise," you murmur, the words catching in your throat, "I didn't mean to drift away from you, Mini. I just... I got caught up in my own guilt, and it was easier to avoid you altogether."

Minhee listens quietly, his understanding washing over you like a soothing tide. His empathy is palpable in the gentleness of his gaze. "I'm sorry for putting you in that position. I guess I hadn't realised that trying to keep you from him was actually doing the opposite of what I thought it would," he admits, his voice filled with remorse. Bringing you closer to his side, he rubs your waist in a gesture of comfort. "I pushed you away and blamed it all on Sunghoon."

"You'll always be my number one, Mini. You don't have to worry about that," you assure him, offering a heartfelt smile in return.

If there were such a thing as twin flames, you and Minhee would surely be just that. In every universe, you both burn together, facing every trial and tribulation that comes your way. You're deeply thankful to have him as your brother.

“Did he actually like me this whole time?" You can't help but beam at the thought of the Ice Prince harbouring feelings for you all these years.

With a groan, Minhee pushes you away playfully, "Ugh, yes. He would NOT let it go either. Even asked me if he could take you to prom," he recalls with a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

“PROM? He wanted to take me to my prom?” You squeal at the thought, imagining Sunghoon awkwardly mustering up the courage to ask Minhee for permission to take you to prom. It's a surreal image, but one that fills you with a strange sense of warmth, “I had no idea he was that into me back then,” you idly play with your hair, trying to stop yourself from reverting back to your 14-year-old self as you imagine Sunghoon crushing on you too.

Minhee shrugs, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Probably just desperate, to be honest," he teases, earning an annoyed gasp and a few playful slaps to his shoulder. "Ow! Look, just because I’m not against you dating him anymore doesn’t mean I want to hear you gushing over him, okay?"

Your eyes widen in surprise at his revelation. "You... you aren’t against it?" The words feel fake as if you've stepped into an alternate reality where Minhee's acceptance of your relationship with Sunghoon is not only possible but welcomed.

Minhee sighs, raking his fingers through his hair, “I’m still not happy that you lied to me about it, and I am not his biggest fan,” he starts, eyes pointed at you with annoyance, “But he makes you happy and that picture you accidentally sent me was…well he clearly loves you,” It burns him to say it, you can see it in how his mouth cringes, “And after everything that’s happened, maybe I should let go of some of the grudges.”

You might have to clean out your ears to make sure you’ve heard correctly. 

In one swoop, you hug him tightly, “Thank you, Mini,” You hadn’t realised the weight that you had been carrying all over your body regarding this whole secret boyfriend situation, but it’s finally gone.

“Don’t thank me just yet, you need to make up with him first,” Minhee says, “That should be easy though.”

Ah, there was that little hiccup, “It’s a little more complicated than that,” you say sheepishly as you scratch the back of your hand. Your brother stares with questioning eyes, “When we argued at Belmore I might have accidentally told him you broke his skate and that I knew,” your shoulders rise as you speak, face spreading with awkwardness and guilt. 

“You’re so fucking stupid, Y/N. Why would you tell him that?!” He is exasperated by you, his hands rubbing up and down his face to exhibit his frustration with you.

“It slipped out! Come on, I could have told him well before yesterday. Give me some credit,” you argue back.

Both of you stare at each other, and the room’s silence quickly fills with your outburst of laughter. The tension dissipates as laughter bubbles between you, the weight of the conversation lifting momentarily. Despite the gravity of the situation, there's something strangely comforting about being able to find humour in the midst of it all.

"Okay, okay, fair point," Minhee concedes, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips, "But seriously, you need to sort things out with him, if he tells the board I’ll never be able to skate again,” you look at him incredulously to which he just laughs, “Yeah, I am aware of the irony, okay? Just please sort it out. If not for me, for yourself.”

Nodding, you cross your fingers, “I will.”

“I love you, Bubs,” Minhee stands and kisses the crown of your head, smiling in relief that he has his best friend back, “Tell him if he hurts you for real, I’ll break his legs next time.” Your mouth hangs open as he walks away shrugging.

The weight of the situation settles over you once more, but this time, you feel a renewed sense of purpose. You just hope you can fix this. 

______

You find yourself standing at Sunghoon's doorstep, your hand poised to knock, yet inexplicably frozen in place. Why has the simple act of chapping on his door suddenly become so daunting?

A nagging voice echoes in your mind, whispering doubts about whether he'll even care, convinced that the damage has already been done. The weight of the colossal secret you've kept from him bears down heavily, compounded by the regret of not believing him when he insisted the audio wasn’t him.

Yesterday, confusion clouded your judgment, leaving you unable to think clearly, grasping onto every detail at face value. But amidst the chaos, you failed to afford the same trust and belief in his earnest pleas and declarations of love.

Now, the fear grips you tight: What if he doesn’t want to mend things? What if, because of some senseless scheme concocted by your own mother, you've lost the love of your life?

But you’re a big girl, you have to face this no matter the outcome.

With that mindset, you finally chap the door, breathing out slowly as you do so. The nerves sit in your throat as it dries out, the idea of losing him was just inconceivable.

The door swings open to reveal Jay, clearly just awake. His hair is sticking to one side and he hasn’t bothered to put on clothes, boxers being the only thing keeping his dignity. You suppose turning up to the flat at 6am on a Thursday would grant some disturbance.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Jay asks, one eye still closed.

“I need to speak to Sunghoon,” you try to convey the urgency in your voice but it comes out breathlessly. You hadn’t realised you were holding in the air until you spoke.

Jay's sigh echoes in the room, his gaze drifting upwards as he considers your request. "I don’t think it’s a good idea, Y/N, he's kinda pissed," he cautions, his tone tinged with concern.

You understand Jay's apprehension, but you can't let the rift between you and Sunghoon deepen any further. The longer you both remain trapped in this mess, the harder it will be to mend your relationship. Time might heal some wounds but it won’t fix them.

“Can I just talk to him? I need to explain,” you plead, tapping your fingers together, you avoid his judgmental gaze. 

Jay's response is swift, his conviction clear as he defends Sunghoon's character. "You didn’t actually believe your mum, right? Like anyone with a clue can see how much he loves you. He wouldn’t do something like that," he states, offering a comforting gesture by rubbing his shoulder slightly. It's evident that Jay is trying to rebuild Sunghoon's image in your eyes, a testament to the unwavering bond between him and his best friend.

As you stand there, you can’t explain your thoughts during your fight with your boyfriend because you still can’t make sense of them yourself; however he was right, you should have seen his love past the lies of your mother.

Nodding with a hint of shame, you admit, “It was all just too much to process, and I handled it poorly. But I have to fix it.” Despite the weight of your guilt, a steely determination underlines your words.

Jay sees it, he understands you didn’t want to hurt Sunghoon the way you did. Maybe he’s a bit more understanding of your own grief because his best friend neglected to mention that you lied to him about Minhee and his skate. 

When Sunghoon arrived home, Jake and Jay greeted him eagerly, anticipating news from his check-up. However, their excitement quickly turned to concern as Sunghoon stormed in, slamming the door behind him with such force that it caused shelves to rattle.

Concern etched across their faces, his friends inquired about the situation with genuine worry as Sunghoon recounted the events involving your mother and the recording. However, he purposefully omitted any mention of the skate. He didn't want to tarnish your image in the eyes of his friends with his own anger-induced bias. He understood all too well that they might harbour animosity toward you for your deception, and the mere thought of it was unbearable to him.

So he didn’t bother to spill it, still protecting you even amidst his fury.

"I heard him leave this morning. I think he went to the rink, like he usually does to clear his head," Jay offered, unsure if he should disclose this information but feeling a strong intuition that both you and Sunghoon needed it.

Your expression softens with gratitude as you look up, "Thanks, Jay," you say, appreciation evident in your voice.

As you begin to turn, preparing to make your journey back to your side of town and into Belmore, Jay's voice suddenly pierces the quiet morning air, halting your movements, "Wait there, I'll give you a lift," he calls out, his offer catching you off guard.

Before you can even muster a response to decline his kind gesture, Jay is already striding purposefully back to his room to get dressed.

Left standing alone in the tranquillity of the early morning, the absence of Jay's presence allows your mind to wander freely. You had prepared yourself to talk to Sunghoon at this very moment but now you have a whole 40-minute drive to contemplate his reaction all over again. It’s scary, the idea of this being the end of you both.

When Jay finally emerges, dressed and ready to go, he motions for you to follow him as you both make your way to his car. You don’t know why he’s doing this but you’re thankful for the saved time, the time to get here was already long enough, never mind making the same painstaking journey back.

The drive begins in silence, the gentle hum of the engine merging with the rhythm of your own racing heart. Jay's quietness feels unfamiliar, a subtle shift in the energy between you since your last encounter, though not entirely unexpected.

With some courage, you figure talking to Jay might help you later on when speaking to Sunghoon, “I think deep down I knew he didn’t say it.” 

It’s a simple confession but one you had to say out loud.

Jay spares you a quick glance before keeping his attention on the road, “He’s doted on you, like literally obsessed with you. Do you not see that, or?” There's a hint of irritation as he speaks. He can’t fathom why you would ever believe one shitty phone call rather than your boyfriend who would drop the world at your feet if you asked. 

He hasn't witnessed every facet of your relationship, but from what he has seen, he can't help but envy it. He longs to experience the kind of connection Sunghoon has found with you, hoping to find someone who reciprocates his feelings in the same way. What frustrates him about the situation is the apparent disregard you show for his best friend's love. It's as if you fail to grasp the profound depth of Sunghoon's affection, while there are others out there yearning for even a fraction of such devotion.

You angle your body to face him before speaking, “I know. There was just a lot going on and…you should have heard it, Jay. It sounded so fucking real,” you almost plead with him to see your side.

Even Sunghoon had mentioned how authentic the audio sounded, so Jay knew what you were talking about. He simply nods to acknowledge you, his expression showing understanding, “What was it then? How did she do it?”

"Some AI guy. She hired him to grab snippets from Hoon's interviews and make the audio," you tell Jay, omitting any mention of the gambling or other family drama

Jay's eyes widen in surprise. "Damn, seriously? She stooped that low?" he says, his astonishment visible in his tone. All you can do is nod, aware of how absurd and unsettling the situation is, "AI is so fucking scary, man," Jay says, shaking his head in dismay.

You agree wholeheartedly, a shiver running down your spine at the thought of the lengths people would go to manipulate technology for their own agendas, "It’s so bizarre," you murmur, still trying to wrap your head around the whole ordeal.

The silence that settles between you both now feels different, no longer heavy with tension but rather mutually comforting. Each of you understands the gravity of the situation and the complexities it entails. 

In this shared moment of understanding, surrounded by the quiet of the morning and Jay's silent support, you feel a sense of calm wash over you, in stark contrast to the turbulence that has plagued you since Tuesday. If Jay understands your side of the story, perhaps Sunghoon would as well.

Pulling up to Belmore, Jay stops the car at the entrance, “Y/N,” he pauses, collecting his thoughts, “You’re good for one another, and Jake and I like having you around, so fix this, yeah?” 

You nod, determined and empowered by his words, “I will.”

_____

As you step onto the rink, your eyes lock onto Sunghoon, gliding with so much velocity that it sends a shiver down your spine. You can't help but feel a pang of worry, knowing he's pushing himself to the limit, risking injury once more. As you approach, beads of sweat glisten on his face, his hair clinging to his skin, a visual confirmation of your concerns.

He propels himself into a jump, the sharp sound of his skate slicing through the air, reverberating across the arena. However, his landing isn't smooth; his ankle bends awkwardly, causing him to fall onto the ice.

"Sunghoon, be careful!" you call out, running to be by his side. Ignoring the impracticality of your footwear, you shuffle onto the ice and kneel beside him, "Are you out of your mind?"

Much to your dismay, Sunghoon’s ankle is thumping, a superficial heartbeat pulsing through it. He might be able to go back on the ice but he’s over-exerting himself. He doesn’t look at you, focusing on his ankle, but he also doesn’t push you away, letting you undo the bandage to assess the damage. 

Seemingly, his ankle is okay, nothing torn or hurt beyond what was already there, the bruise from a few weeks ago dying into a faded yellow, a promising sign but it still pains you to see.

Standing up, you offer him your hands for support but he shrugs you off, opting to stand on his own and skate over to the exit of the rink, “What are you doing here? Come to mess up my other skate?” His tone is sharp and accusatory, indicating that he’s still angry.

“It wasn’t me and you know that,” you defend yourself, slowly walking behind him trying not to slip.

You both successfully make it off the ice, Sunghoon plonking himself onto the bench outside. Going back to his ankle, you kneel and start the process of re-wrapping the bandage tightly, again with no protest from him. Hopefully, that’s a better sign of forgiveness compared to what his voice is suggesting.

Carefully, you discard his skate to the side and gather the bandage, your cold hand sparks a jolt in Sunghoon as you hold the start of the wrap to the back of his ankle. You take your time to eliminate any cause of discomfort which for the most part you succeed in. 

“You kept it a secret, Y/N. Lied to my face,” he says through gritted teeth which you don’t know if it’s from anger or pain, possibly a mixture of both, “Everything wrong in my life seems to be because of your family.” The words sting because you know it’s true. As much as you would love to be excluded from the accusation, you know he’s right.

“I know,” You say lowly, putting all your attention on his ankle. 

Looking at you, Sunghoon sighs, his body heavy with mixed feelings. Just looking at you now he wants to wrap you in his arms and tell you everything is okay, that he forgives you, but he can’t do that without some sort of explanation. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asks softly, staring at you as if trying to reach into your brain and pull the answers out himself.

Adjusting the bandage with a gentle twist, you offer your explanation, “Honestly, I thought I was protecting you. You had so much going on; not knowing if you would make nationals, the argument with your mum, there was just never a right time.”

Sucking his teeth, he nods, “Feels like you were protecting your brother.”

“I was, in some ways. There was something so strange going on I wanted to try and figure it out before I told you. I wanted an excuse so you wouldn’t blame him for it,” you explain your thought process to him but he won’t get it, not unless he was you in that situation.

Yet, to your surprise, Sunghoon grasps the sentiment perfectly. Protecting your brother is second nature, ingrained within you, even on the first day when everyone discovered they would be combining the rinks, you tried to protect him from doing something stupid. 

The only thing he doesn’t understand is why Minhee did it.

“Did you ever find an excuse for him? Or can I blame him for this?” he points to his ankle with his other foot so you see it. You haven��t looked at him once since you started to tend to his injury.

“You can blame him for it,” you start, pausing your actions as you wonder whether you should tell him what transpired, why Minhee did it, “Minhee…My mum put him up to it, to get you injured for Nationals so Minhee had a better chance of winning.”

“Shit, okay.”

Knowing Sunghoon, he’s trying to piece it all together to save you the explanation, but this is far too complicated for him to work out on his own, “This is going to sound so crazy, but I need you to listen. My mum is struggling to make ends meet and she got into some gambling scene. She put loads of money for Minhee to win, specifically to beat you and if she wins, it’s like thousands of pounds, enough to get her out of the debt she’s in. I don’t know how it works but it’s shady. She didn’t trust Minhee to get the job done on his own so…” You trail off, hoping he’ll put the puzzle together now.

Taking the safety pin, you secure the wrap and pull down his trouser leg, yet, you still don’t look at him, scared of his reaction. If you were in his shoes, you would not believe anything about what was just said.

But unlike you, Sunghoon knows what crazy sports mums are willing to do for their kids to succeed, his mum being a prime example, “Y/N, seriously, you should have told me.”

“I didn’t find out about the whole gambling thing until last night when Mini told me. Sunghoon, please believe me when I say he didn’t want to do it, he just…he thinks he owes our mum like he’s the one that put us in debt for chasing this dream, that he’s the reason for a lot of things outwith his control.”

“Sweets,” Sunghoon breathes out, grabbing your chin, forcing you to finally look at him, “I get it, I mean, I’m not particularly chill with it since my career could have ended but the way Minhee is feeling, I do understand.” 

His eyes hold yours like they’re hugging you, trying to pull you from your worries and somehow it works. You feel a little lighter, his hand now etching its way to your cheek to cradle it. Instinctively, you lean into his touch, seeking his comfort.

“I’m sorry, Hoonie,” you state solemnly, angry and hurt that he was just a pawn in your mother's game, the relationship between you both strained because of her and yet you were the one apologising on her behalf. 

You’re sorry for your own mistakes, but nothing was as bad as her tricks.

Sunghoon offers you a small smile, ushering you to sit next to him on the bench so he isn’t looking down on you. The symbolism of you feeling lesser is evident to him and he can’t stand it.

He turns to face you as you take a seat next to him, his hand resting comfortingly on your leg. “That phone call, I didn't say all that. That wasn't me, you have to believe me" he begs you to trust him.

"Yeah, I know," you respond with a bitter scoff, recalling the manipulative tactics of your mother. The skater's expression shifts to confusion as you continue, "My mum did that too, another thing that’s going to sound even crazier than breaking your skate."

You recount the incident with the AI recording, detailing your mother's desperate attempts to win her bet and her willingness to destroy your relationship in the process. With each sentence, his bewilderment deepens, his eyes widening and narrowing, and his mouth opening and closing in disbelief.

"Wait, seriously? It was AI?" he interjects once you've recounted every bizarre detail.

As he grapples with the revelation, you seize the opportunity to provide some comfort, gently wiping the sweat from his brow and pushing his dishevelled hair back from his face. The tension seems to ease from his features.

You pout at him, the weight of guilt settling heavily in your chest. "I'm really sorry for not believing you when all of this came out," you admit, your voice tinged with remorse.

He reaches out to take your hand in his, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin, "No, no, Sweets, it's okay," he reassures you, his tone soft and understanding, "She even gaslighted me for a second,” he suddenly starts to chuckle, “I thought my biggest worry was people making those ‘If Sunghoon sang Chase Atlantic’ AI TikToks.”

You laugh with him, knowing what he’s talking about. One day he came to you and showed you a video of him singing Slow Down which creeped you out and impressed you all at once. 

The moment of laughter dies down, the break in tension creating much-needed relief for both of you. This whole scenario is so fucked up it’s hard to believe, you’re just thankful Sunghoon is so understanding.

“What about Minhee?” he asks suddenly, passing the confusion to you, “Like, how is he in all of this?” 

Sunghoon’s concern for your brother, whether big or small, makes your love for him pound in your chest. Even after everything, he was still asking about Minhee which meant he might not hold a grudge, and more importantly, not go to the board.

Is it selfish to think that right now? To still be concerned about Minhee’s career?

Your boyfriend sees your eyes twitch, his telltale sign that your mind is racing, “Sweets?”

He breaks your thoughts, “Oh, he’s uh, he’s just stressed I think. I need to properly speak to him at some point and figure out what he wants to do,” you shake off the idea that Minhee won’t get to achieve his dream, scared that you might manifest it by accident.

Sunghoon nods, sighing deeply as he sheds any of the weight that was held over him. He wishes you would have trusted him when you heard the audio, but he does understand. Sometimes, he can be too understanding and he knows this, but it’s so easy to forgive or find reasoning for your actions.

Which will help you with your next request.

"Please don't go to the board," you finally confess, your voice barely above a whisper. It takes every ounce of courage you possess to voice the plea, but you know you have to ensure your mother hasn't irreparably damaged Minhee's chance at the Olympics. You need to see him succeed - he deserves it more than anyone.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he smiles, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours, "I won't, I promise. For you though, only for you."

The weight that's been pressing down on your shoulders suddenly lifts, replaced by an overwhelming sense of relief. You almost cry at how patient and understanding Sunghoon is, you wonder if you’ve ever met anyone like him before.

There’s a comfortable calmness in the air, his nose nuzzles against yours as he smiles contently, happy to have you back beside him. The past two days felt like weeks. It made him realise just how important you are to his life. He can’t live without you and never wants to be apart.

“So is Minhee…cool with us?” he asks gingerly.

Your face lights up as you lean back, “Actually, he’s completely fine with it, well, he said he still doesn’t like you but you make me happy. That’s all he wants.” 

Minhee and you will forever prioritise each other's happiness above all else. These recent events have underscored that sentiment, even if it took some time to fully grasp. Ultimately, you both want nothing but the best for each other.

Sunghoon appears genuinely surprised by your declaration, his eyebrows shooting up, "Really? No resentment or anything?"

"Really," you confirm, observing his reaction closely. "He... he actually told me about forbidding you from seeing me all those years ago," you add, realising his astonishment at the news about your brother being on board with your relationship likely stems from the years of Minhee pushing him away from you.

Flushed, Sunghoon shuts his eyes, “No, he didn’t,” he winces at the idea of you finding out about his long-term crush on you.

“He did. Told me how you begged him to let you take me to prom too,” you gloat, a massive triumphant smile on your face, “You loooved me all those years ago, you have to admit it now,” you joke and his face turns even redder. 

Typically, Sunghoon is being chased, so to have this hanging over his head in your relationship, he knows you’ll never shut up about it. He will admit though, that the look of delight on your face is almost worth the embarrassment.

“Okay, yeah. But blame Minhee for making us miss so many years together, okay? He was shit scary back then. I thought he was going to skin me alive,” Sunghoon recollects asking him if he could ask you out to the cinema, an innocent tiny date and Minhee, the scariest 14-year-old there was to ever live at that point, well to Sunghoon anyway, practically ripped his head off.

Prom was a mistake, he was simply asking if you had a date to prom. Yes, he was going to ask you if Minhee said no, regardless of what your brother would say, but the fire in Minhee’s eyes wasn’t one to be messed with and by this point, he was a gym-attending 19-year-old with an extra protective layer over you. Enough said.

You giggle and take his hand, offering him a sympathetic smile, “He was scared to lose me.”

"Who wouldn't be," he responds without hesitation, his tone serious and sincere.

His immediate reply catches you off guard and you do a double take, surprised by the sudden intensity in his voice.

Sunghoon wasn’t just saying it; he was petrified at the thought of losing you, especially after your mother's deceitful phone call. The look of betrayal on your face had cut him to the core, a pain he never wanted to inflict upon you. He loved you too much for that.

As you process his words, you realise there's a deep emotion behind them that you hadn't fully grasped before. Sunghoon's admission hangs heavy in the air, revealing a vulnerability. Your heart clenches with empathy, knowing that his dread of losing you is deep. You softly squeeze his hand, silently expressing your empathy.

You felt the exact same way about him - terrified of losing one of the people who means everything to you.

"I'm sorry," you say quietly, your voice full of regret, "I never want you to feel like you're going to lose me."

Sunghoon's gaze softens as he meets your eyes, a flicker of emotion dancing in the depths of his own. He brings your hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss against your knuckles, "I know, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice filled with reassurance, “I’m not letting you go anyway, you’re stuck with me now.”

You laugh, shaking your head. There's a silent vow between you both to cherish and reassure each other whenever you have to, “Can we start again?” 

“Yeah, of course, Sweets.” He plasters a genuine grin on his face, elated with the idea of putting all the negativity and lies behind the relationship and starting fresh.

You stretch out your hand, teeth showing as you smile, “Hi, I’m Y/N Kang. I’m your biggest fan.”

Sunghoon’s heart pounds loudly, you are his fan but to him, you’re more like an extractor fan. If you don’t have one of those, things go rotten and that’s exactly what it felt like without you. He needed you to such the poison and pain from his bones, he selfishly needed your love to make him feel alive. 

He wants to provide you with that same feeling.

Taking your hand he smiles widely, mirroring your enthusiasm, “I’m Park Sunghoon. I am your biggest fan.”

________

The bleacher seats are your makeshift study space, textbooks and notes scattered haphazardly around you as you bury yourself in preparation for the looming winter exams. The chill of the air contrasts with the warmth of your determination; you had an award to uphold after all.

Meanwhile, your boyfriend is focused on a different kind of preparation. With just four days until nationals, he's dedicated himself to ensuring his ankle is in peak condition. Despite having twisted it just a few weeks ago, he's pushing himself hard, determined to perform at his best on the ice. When he pushes himself a little too much, you’re there to pull him back, or rather nag him to be careful

You steal glances at him whenever you can. Despite the injury, he moves with a fluid grace, his dedication evident in every precise movement. If you didn't know better, you wouldn't even guess that his ankle had been injured at all.

As you bury your nose in your books, a sense of admiration washes over you. His resilience and commitment inspire you to push through your own challenges. Granted, yours is a little less intimidating, the exams you’ll take will be confined to a week inside a study hall whereas Sunghoon is skating in front of thousands and being broadcast on TV. 

Lost in your studies, you're suddenly jolted back to reality by a soft tap on your paper. Glancing up, you're met with a warm smile from your boyfriend, his eyes twinkling with affection, “You’re so serious when you’re focused,” He laughs, leaning over the barrier of the ice rink. 

“Are you done?” You ask enthusiastically, hoping to get out of here and get the dinner he promised you 3 hours ago; your stomach wasn’t prepared to be denied food for so long that it started to speak to you about an hour ago.

"Just about, baby. You wanna go for Italian?" Sunghoon suggests, his eyes twinkling with mischief. His suggestion makes you smile; you've been raving about gnocchi for the past two days, and he's clearly been paying attention.

As you agree, his grin widens, and he leans in close, "Great, I'll go get changed and be right out," he declares, excitement bubbling in his voice.

Leaning over the barrier, Sunghoon puckers his lips in anticipation of a kiss to which you gladly oblige, pressing your lips to his in a sweet, lingering kiss. The brief moment of affection leaves you both with a warm, fluttering feeling in your chests. With a final smile and a promise to meet you outside, he disappears to change, leaving you to gather your books and laptop.

Packing the last of your highlighters into your bag, you hear the entrance door open. Peeking over the seats, you see a familiar face walking down with his gym bag slung over his shoulder and earphones in.

"Minhee?" you question, hoisting your bag onto your shoulder before walking over to him. "Mini?" you call out louder, ensuring he hears you.

Your brother jumps a little, clearly not expecting to see you at the rink. "What are you doing here?" he asks, a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Sunghoon's taking me for dinner. I was just studying while he trained," you explain, hoping to alleviate any concerns he might have.

Your reasoning earns a thoughtful hum from Minhee. It's still strange to talk about Sunghoon so casually with him, especially after keeping your relationship a secret for all those months.

"Is he here?" Minhee glances around, searching for any sign of Sunghoon.

"He's getting changed," you reply, nervously biting your lip. Despite Minhee giving you the green light for dating, there's still a lingering apprehension about them being in the same room together, especially after "skate gate," as Sunghoon dubbed it in an attempt to lighten the situation.

There is still some part of you that dreads them in the same room together, apprehensive to what they’ll do. Minhee is overprotective of you and Sunghoon is, well, he’s got a wrap on his ankle thanks to your brother. 

Suddenly, the door to the dressing room swings open, and Sunghoon emerges, looking refreshed and ready for your dinner date. His expression is bright, his tunnel vision for you renders Minhee nonexistent to him. It’s not until he gets closer that he notices your older brother.

Once his eyes shift to Minhee, Sunghoon’s smile falters ever so slightly. He also doesn’t know how things will pan out but he knows he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

“Minhee,” Sunghoon nods towards him which Minhee returns, “Are you training tonight?” You appreciate the civilness your boyfriend is trying to engage in, you know he’s doing it for you but hopefully, later on, he’ll do it because he and Minhee are actually getting along.

You can only dream of the day.

“Yeah,” he says sharply but there’s a wave of something in his eyes, something that happens when he’s thinking, “Actually, since you’re here can I talk to you? Privately,” Minhee glances at you as he says privately, indicating that he no longer wants you in the conversation.

Sunghoon looks to you for approval which you grant him obviously, hoping he’ll tell you what Minhee wants during dinner, “Sure. Coaches office is free,” he suggests, pointing with his head.

Your two boys stride over to the office and lock the door behind them.

Now, you could eavesdrop, and make sure no one throws a punch, but you’re trying to be optimistic about their relationship, so you leave them be.

Taking a deep breath, you remind yourself to trust in their ability to handle the situation maturely. After all, both Sunghoon and Minhee care deeply for you, they wouldn’t want to make this any more uncomfortable for you. 

Fighting the urge to pace, you take a deep breath and try to distract yourself with thoughts of the upcoming dinner. Maybe you’ll have a glass of wine with dinner tonight, and try something new. You could get dessert if you convince Sunghoon to cheat on his meal plan for a night. 

Who are you kidding? All you can think about is what is going on in that office, no attempt at distraction will help you now.

It’s increasingly difficult for you to resist chapping the door and pestering them to let you in on the gossip. What could be so important they couldn’t talk about it in front of you?

15 minutes pass but it feels like an eternity as you anxiously await their return. If one of them comes out with a black eye, you’re ditching them both, leaving them high and dry. You really hope it doesn’t come to that.

Finally, the door to the coach’s office swings open, all limbs and eye sockets intact, which is a good sign at least; however, their expressions are unreadable as they walk towards you. There's a subtle shift in the air, something lingering between them, though they try to maintain a facade of normalcy.

"Ready to go?" Sunghoon asks, his tone gentle as he kisses the top of your head lightly.

You nod and look between both of them, “What did you guys talk about?” There’s no grace of subtlety when it comes to you and your curiosity; you know it has something to do with you, you just wanted to know what.

Minhee and Sunghoon exchange a knowing glance before your brother answers, “Just giving him some brotherly warnings…right?” he says it so casually but his tone is cryptic. You know there is more to it than that.

Linking your fingers with his, Sunghoon grips your hand tighter, offering you some reassurance amidst the swirling thoughts in your mind. He knows you're probably considering every possible conversation they could have had.

"Nothing to worry about, Sweets. Minhee was just swinging his big brother ego around," Sunghoon says, his voice gentle but firm. There's a playful twinkle in his eyes that eases your nerves, if only slightly.

Rolling his eyes, Minhee sighs, "Whatever, Park. Remember what I said, yeah?" he tries to pass it off as banter, but there's a serious current weaving through his voice, catching you off guard.

Sunghoon nods in acknowledgement, a silent knowing between them, "I got it," he replies, his gaze locked on Minhee with a sense of respect and understanding. This newfound dynamic between Sunghoon and Minhee is unfamiliar, and you can't quite decipher whether it's a positive or negative development. 

"Enjoy your dinner, Bubs. Make sure he pays," Minhee points to Sunghoon before waving you both off and heading to the changing room.

As Sunghoon pulls at your hand, leading you out of the arena, the silence hangs heavy between you. He doesn't offer an explanation so easily, much to your dismay. 

"Your brother is a shark, can I say that in the most respectful way?" Sunghoon finally speaks up, breaking the silence with a hint of amusement in his voice.

You chuckle softly, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, he's super protective," you acknowledge with a touch of pride in your voice.

"He really is. He’d do anything for you…" Sunghoon trails off, his expression thoughtful. You want to ask what he means but you resist the urge to pry further.

"Are you guys okay? You didn’t fight or anything?" you venture tentatively. 

Sunghoon offers you a reassuring smile, his eyes warm with sincerity, "I think we're besties now," he quips, trying to lighten the mood. You can't help but smile at his attempt to ease your worries, "C'mon, let's go eat, I'm starving," he suggests, kissing you quickly as you reach his car.

You are grateful they managed to have one discussion without throttling one another, even going as far as to make lighthearted jokes and playful jabs.

Baby steps, you suppose.

_____

Emerging from the restaurant and making your way to Sunghoon's car, your face radiates with laughter, tears glistening in your eyes.

"Did you genuinely believe she was asking for your autograph?" you tease, barely able to contain your amusement.

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, “Baby, it isn’t that funny. She literally ASKED me to sign it.”

“Yeah, the bill because you used your card,” as you say the words, another heaved laugh comes out, “You were so confident to think she was your fan.”

Crossing his arms, Sunghoon huffs playfully, feigning annoyance, but he can’t stop the smile from creeping on his face as he looks at you. With your face so bright and that beautiful song of your giggles, Sunghoon can’t stop looking at you, admiring you in this moment.

As your laughter subsides, you catch him staring at you intently. "What is it?" you inquire, noting the uncharacteristically serious expression on his face, devoid of its usual sarcastic pout in situations like these.

"I just love you so much..." he trails off, halting by the passenger door of his car, his voice tinged with vulnerability, "The thought of losing you was terrifying."

Sunghoon understands that you've both overcome the misunderstandings and manipulations caused by your mother, and you're in a better place now. Yet, the prospect of almost losing you because of it still haunts him.

You pout at his words, bringing your hands up to stroke the apple of his cheeks gently, “I hated it too. You’re so important to me, Hoonie,” you whisper, eyes softening at his words.

The months you’ve spent with him have been the best of your life, you could never deny that. Your relationship with him hasn’t been easy, interference from too many outside parties threatened to ruin it all, to rip you from your soulmate, but you will never let it happen again.

You place a timis kiss on his nose, “I promise that nothing will ever take me away from you again, okay?” you look at him with sincere eyes, hoping he truly listens to your promise.

He nods, closing his eyes with a serene smile, his graceful hands enveloping yours, imparting a comforting warmth. Foreheads touching, he savours the moment, soaking in the palpable connection between you both. He just wants to feel your love.

Never in Sunghoon’s life did he ever imagine finding love like this. Although he always knew he loved you, he didn’t know how intense his feelings were until suddenly you weren’t there anymore.

He smiles, eventually opening his eyes to look at you, your gaze holding nothing but love, “Will you come back to mine?” he asks as though this is the first date and he’s testing the waters to see if you’re interested.

“Actually,” you smile, pulling away from him slightly, your hands trailing down to fix the collar of his coat, “Minhee went out with Jungmo and my mum’s recently been going out at night so…”

Sunghoon's heart skips a beat at your implication, "Are you inviting me over?" he asks, his ears buzzing with anticipation.

You nod, a hint of nerves sneaking through as you bite your lip. "Yes, if you want to."

Considering the offer, he weighs the options carefully.

On the downside: it's a risk with your mum potentially returning home soon, the early morning departure could be awkward if he encounters your brother, and there's the potential for discomfort in the morning.

On the upside: it's a shorter drive to your place, he's curious about seeing your room, and it's the only location where he hasn't fucked you yet.

"Alright, let's go for it," he grins, the allure of the last pro eclipsing the rest.

Sunghoon opens the door for you and you settle into your seat and fasten your seatbelt while he slides into the driver's seat, starting the car.

As the car glides down the dimly lit streets, Sunghoon steals glances at you, a mixture of excitement and nervousness flickering in his eyes. The anticipation within him builds with every passing moment, the silence between you thick with unspoken desire.

With a playful smile, you break the tension, "Why do you look nervous?"

Sunghoon chuckles, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel, "Not nervous, excited,” he corrects you.

You eye him up and down, “Okay then, why are you excited?” 

Sunghoon lounges back as you hit a red light, taking the chance to look at you, “It’s like I’m entering enemy territory, like on those video games Jake plays all the time. I’m entering the red area, risking my life while I got on stealth mode,” he explains, getting even more giddy as he speaks about it.

“Hoonie, no one else will be home, I’m hardly sneaking you in.”

“Shhh, it’s no fun if you put it that way,” he chuckles, placing a hand on your thigh, “When I forward roll into your entrance, leave me be,” he plays.

Luckily for you, when you both arrive, Sunghoon refrains from spy rolling into your house like he’s an elite operative. Instead, he is waiting to be invited in like Stefan Salvatore.

“Baby, come on in, nothing gonna bite you,” you giggle as you take off your shoes.

Following your orders, he walks in and takes a look around the familiar entranceway. Nothing has changed since he was last here, just before your ceremony; aka, he’s noticed not one of your award pictures has taken pride of place next to your brothers. 

You hadn't shown your mother the pictures, nor did she inquire about how it went. Her indifference was something you had learned to accept, albeit reluctantly. It wasn't the ideal situation, but like Sunghoon, you had found solace and love in other places where your mother left a void

Coming to that acceptance was cathartic.

You lead him up to your room, a bright smile on your face. It was surreal to have this opportunity to have him amongst your creature comforts, like finally all the pieces of your life have come together.

Sunghoon stops you as you go to reach for the handle, “Wait!” he rushes out. Inhaling deeply as he jitters around like a boxer about to walk into the ring, each little jump and hand tremor making you laugh. You would mistake it for nervousness again if he wasn’t beaming at the door like an idiot 

“Will you calm down, this isn’t anything spectacular, It’s just my room,” you shake your head, looking at him as he continues his jumps of glee. Nothing you could say to him would stop him from acting like a child on Christmas morning, “You’re such a dork,” you snort, placing your hand on the handle.

Before opening the door, you mentally hope you tidied up before meeting him today. To your relief, the room is cleaner than you recall, albeit with a stray sock and some shoes strewn where your wardrobe is. You signal for Sunghoon to come, and he enthusiastically skips inside, looking about with inquiring eyes.

His attention moves across the shelves filled with books and trinkets, the cosy bed with its assortment of plushies, and the desk cluttered with papers and pens. Sharing this space with him creates a sense of intimacy and vulnerability, as well as elation among you both. Having him here feels like you can finally call this your home.

Sunghoon's smile widens as he takes it all in, his eyes sparkling with delight, "This is nice," he remarks, his voice soft with appreciation. 

You nod, feeling a surge of happiness at his reaction, "I'm glad you think so," you reply, watching as he moves further into the room, exploring every nook and cranny as if it holds some secret treasure. 

Just looking around your room is giving him further insight into your life. As your boyfriend, he knows a lot more than most, yet, seeing your soul laid bare in these four walls is opening him up to understand you deeper. 

From the 2 minutes he has spent in your room, he has just found out that you collect far too many earrings, your favourite highlighter to use is pastel pink, you had an emo phase that you neglected to tell him, and you’ve been to 4 fan signs for TO1. It’s tiny, insignificant details, but Sunghoon wants to know it all.

His eyes happen to fall on a picture of you and Minhee when you were kids, “I remember this!” he exclaims, fangs showing as he twists the picture to show you as if you don’t see it literally every morning, “This was the Youth of Skating competition when we were 13,” he reminisces.

"Wasn't I just adorable?" you remark, playfully cupping your cheeks and flashing a wide grin as you try to mimic your younger self captured in the photo.

With a laugh, Sunghoon gently sets the frame back on your desk, nodding in agreement, “The prettiest one in the crowd by far,” he murmurs in a soft tone, mirroring your joy. It's as if your face radiates sunlight, and he basks in your vibrant glow.

Closing the distance between you, he replaces your hands with his own, leaning in to kiss you. His lips are tender as they meld with yours, his touch gentle as he affectionately squishes your cheeks, “You’re still the most beautiful person I have ever seen.”

Your heart quickens as he whispers sweet nothings into your mouth, his words mingling with the gentle exploration of his tongue, "I don't buy it," you tease, playfully pushing his hands away from your red cheeks, "You'll have to prove it to me," you challenge with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

A playful smirk dances across Sunghoon's lips as he accepts your challenge, his eyes sparkling with determination. With a soft chuckle, he gently captures your hands in his, intertwining your fingers as he pulls you closer.

"Oh, I intend to," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. Leaning in, he presses another lingering kiss to your lips, his touch sending shivers down your spine. Slowly, he trails his lips along your jawline, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses in his wake. 

He takes off his jacket, tossing it on your desk chair all the while he’s nipping at your neck. As his hands swiftly remove his t-shirt, revealing his sculpted bare chest, your eyes are drawn to the faded hickeys scattered across his skin. You had really done a number on him a couple of weeks ago, the purple still tinting his pecks. 

Before you can fully appreciate the sight, he bends down, effortlessly scooping you up, his lips showering kisses all over your face. Your breath catches at the warmth of his touch sending a flush to your cheeks, "Sunghoon," you gasp, feeling his urgency mirrored in your own desire.

Laying you gently on the bed, his chest pressed against yours, he trails his hands up and down your body, igniting flames of longing with each touch, "I know, Sweets," he murmurs, his voice laced with possessiveness, "You want me to fuck you, yeah? Prove to you that you’re the most gorgeous girl?"

“Yes,” you huff out desperately.

“Then be a good girl. You can do that for me, baby, can’t you?” he whispers into your neck, licking a stripe up your vein.

His words dance down to your pussy, arousal pooling between your legs as you eagerly nod in agreement. His confidence mixed with his praises only fuels your desire, the promise of being his good girl setting your pulse racing.

In a flurry of movement, his trousers and boxers are discarded, and he wastes no time in removing your jeans and underwear, leaving you bare and exposed to his hungry gaze. As he kisses up the tender skin of your inner thigh, his proximity to your centre sends waves of anticipation coursing through you.

“My beautiful girl, you’re all mine,” Sunghoon’s voice is low and smooth like butter.

The vibrations from his words send a jolt of need straight to your core, the ache for his touch almost unbearable. As he teasingly presses a delicate kiss to your clit, you whimper in longing, your body yearning for the fulfilment only he can provide.

His hands slide up to the top of your thighs, holding them down and apart as he nibbles gently at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. A shiver of anticipation courses through you as your hips instinctively push up, yearning for the touch of his mouth where you need it most.

Sunghoon responds with soft, warm kisses across your core, each one sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. Then, with deliberate slowness, he traces his tongue upwards, sending a shudder of delight through you as he explores every inch of your pussy.

Kneading your hands through his hair, you grip tight as you beg for more and Sunghoon has no problem granting your wishes, kitten-licking your slit as he laps up your wetness. 

When he is going down on you, he is like a man possessed but now it’s much worse. He hasn’t tasted your essence properly since the breakup/makeup. Your boyfriend doesn’t like to go too long without your taste on his tongue, so here he is making up for lost time as he lays his tastebuds flat against your cunt, savouring every drop of you.

You pull his head back by his hair, eliciting a moan from him as you do so, the sensation of each strand being in your command causes his dick to jump in, “Fuck, Sweets,” he hisses, licking his lips clean as he looks up at you through hooded eyes, “Tell me what you want.”

But he already knows what you want, because, without your answer, he’s gathering saliva in his mouth before spitting it on your throbbing pussy, his fingers lathering you in it, “Go on, tell me,” he mutters onto your clit, digging his teeth onto it just enough for you to buck your hips onto his face.

“Fingers, Hoonie, I want your fingers. Please,” you plead, holding your hips up to his mouth in a desperate attempt to get some release of your friction.

“Not only are you gorgeous,” Sunghoon’s fingers find their way to your entrance, circling it teasingly, “You’re my obedient, perfect girl.”

Sunghoon smoothly slides his fingers inside you, opening you up and filling you with a sweet sensation. His attention never leaves your face as he looks for your reactions, making every movement pleasurable for you.

He sees your lips falling wide and your head cocking back in ecstasy as an indication to continue. His fingers hook into you, gliding back and forth in a smooth and luring pace that matches the rhythm of your desire, and caressing you just the way you like it. Each stroke sends waves of pleasure through your body, creating a fire of passion that becomes hotter with each enticing movement.

You're a moaning mess as Sunghoon expertly finds your sweet spot, thrusting his fingers harshly as he works it with precision, "Let it all out, baby," he encourages, his voice sending your head into a tizzy, "Show me how I'm making you feel."

His words alone could send you tipping over the edge, but it's the sensation of his tongue flicking your clit and the gentle suction that has you screaming his name loud enough for the whole neighbourhood to hear. Sunghoon doesn't stop you, revelling in the melodic sound of his name falling from your lips like a symphony of desire.

"That's it, angel, you're doing so good for me," he praises, his words only spurring you on further. The two fingers inside you continue their relentless rhythm, driving you to the brink of ecstasy with each delicious stroke.

Your hands instinctively push him further into your cunt as you ride his face, Sunghoon's skilled ministrations bring you closer and closer to your climax, and his tongue and fingers dance in perfect rhythm, driving you to contentment with each delicious motion. The overwhelming sensation clouds your thoughts, leaving you lost in a haze of pleasure that makes your mouth water with anticipation.

With a final, electrifying thrust of his fingers and a gentle nibble at your clit, you hit the edge of release, your chest and tummy tightening. And then, with a guttural moan that bounces throughout the room, you finally succumb to the overwhelming wave of pleasure that crashes over you, leaving you trembling and breathless in its wake.

Sunghoon continues to worship you with his mouth and fingers, guiding you through the aftershocks of your orgasm with tender care and devotion. Each touch, each kiss, each whispered word of praise only serves to deepen the connection between you.

He sucks and swallows your juices, smiling as he does so. Your walls have trapped his two digits inside you as you squeeze him tight, “Baby, relax for me,” he kisses up your stomach in an attempt to get your body to yield but your orgasm is too intense, “Shh, Y/N, breathe out for me beautiful,” he whispers as his face meets yours.

Opening your eyes, you see his gentle smile and etch a blissful one onto yours, his adoring gaze instantly rippling through your bones, helping your muscles to unknot themselves. The power he has over you is crazy.

"Told you I would prove it," Sunghoon chuckles softly, pressing a peck on the tip of your nose as he finally frees his hand from you. Shaking your head with a satisfied smile, you exhale deeply, prompting him to tilt his head inquisitively.

"Oh? Have I not done enough?" he questions, his expression filled with amusement.

"Nope," you reply smugly, popping the 'p' for emphasis, "You could do more to prove it."

Sunghoon feigns contemplation, his lips quirking to the side in mock thought, "I see, hmm…" he muses, his gaze scanning you from head to toe before he suddenly sits you up and onto his lap, taking your useless top off.

His favourite playthings are now sitting directly at eye level and Sunghoon feels spoilt for choice of what one to show attention to first. Left has always been his favourite, there wasn’t a particular reason as to why, he just instinctively went for it every time.

Before he can delve his mouth to attach to your perky nipple, you surprise him by gripping his shoulders with one hand while the other strokes his cock between your bodies. In reaction, his shoulders and back hunch over, his head now buried between your mounds. 

Your slicked hand pumps him at a vicious pace, yet the gentleness of your hand causes no discomfort. After all these months together, you know how he likes it, fast and rough with extra attention to his tip; so that’s what you do, after every fourth stroke you swipe your palm over his head, the soft skin now tinted red with need.

“Sweets,” he murmurs between your breasts, his tongue licking the valley like a helpless dog, “Let me be inside you, fuck I need it so bad,” he almost whimpers as you squeeze him.

Part of you wants to keep going and tease him but your heat is leaking for him, crying out to be stuffed by his cock. 

You lift your hips and guide him to your entrance, slowly sinking onto him, “Jesus,” you hiss out, his cock stretching you much wider than his previous fingers.

The pace you set is deliberate and unhurried as you savour the feeling of his thick shaft piercing into you, battering your cervix each time you slam down onto him. Sunghoon groans at the way your channel is enveloping him, moulding around him like a perfect fit. 

With each withdrawal, the tip of his cock catches on your entrance, teasingly, before he plunges back in, eliciting desperate pleas for more from your lips, "Hoonie, please, faster," you beg, your desire driving you wild.

It’s time for Sunghoon to take charge, his hands clasp around your back as he pulls you further into his chest, gripping onto your skin as he goes at you relentlessly. He delves so deeply inside you that the sensation becomes overwhelming, a heady mix of pleasure and need. Sunghoon's hand moves from your back to brush against your overstimulated clit, sending jolts of electricity coursing through your body, causing you to writhe on his lap, "Sunghoon, please," you whimper, your voice laced with desperation.

"What is it, baby?" Sunghoon's voice, soft-spoken and tender, stands in stark contrast to the force of his thrusts, each one pounding relentlessly against your core.

"Close," you gasp out, the intensity of your impending climax threatening to overwhelm you once again. If it were any other time, you might feel embarrassed by how quickly you're reaching the peak of ecstasy, but you know Sunghoon would understand. And he does because he feels the same way. 

Both of you have tangled in sheets for long enough that you both know one another’s body like the back of your hands. That, added in with the withdrawals, of course you were both cumming quickly. Neither of you particularly minded since it wasn’t exactly a hindrance but rather served as just another notch to add to the endless list of climaxes you could potentially have. 

The day that one orgasm halts your sexcapades for the night, is the day Ghostface will stop being hot. Never.

Sunghoon spits on your folds, his movements primitive but intentional. His fingers rubbed saliva into your delicate skin, focusing their attention on your swollen clit, pushing you to the verge of your high. These sensations are almost too intense to take, with his rough touch on your bud and the power of his cock ramming into your walls battering you in the most delicious way possible.

The other hand on your back trails its way to your left hand, clasping it in his as he intertwines your fingers, kissing your knuckles as he stares at you, love shining through, “I love you so fucking much,” he whispers out, his hips faltering slightly as he declares his adoration for you.

Nodding, you bite your lip, prying your eyes open to look into his, “I love you too, Hoonie,” you confess back to him, hips also losing their rhythm as you struggle to focus on anything other than the coil in your stomach.

You bring your lips to his hand, mimicking his earlier actions, “Cum with me, Sunghoon,” you whisper into the back of his hand, your lips parted as you suck in a deep breath, ready for release.

Your body convulses with pleasure as waves of ecstasy wash over you, leaving you trembling and breathless in their wake. Sunghoon holds you close, his touch gentle yet possessive as he guides you through the aftershocks of your climax with tender care.

Sunghoon kisses you hungrily, his lips engulfing yours in a passionate embrace as your words push him over the edge. With feral zeal, he releases his seed in you, the white strands of his desire flying straight into your depths and blending with your own release.

Your bodies melt together in the heat of passion and you both cry one other's names along with a stream of curses, lost in the throes of pleasure and need. Sunghoon punctuates each passionate proclamation with two simple utterings of "I love you," ensuring that his words are conveyed sincerely

As you come down from the euphoric high, you find yourself enveloped in Sunghoon's embrace, his love and adoration surrounding you like a warm blanket on a cold night. In this moment, with him by your side, you feel truly complete, knowing that you are loved and cherished beyond measure.

Laying you down, Sunghoon, slides out of you gently, making sure he doesn’t hurt you, “Sweets, where is your bathroom?” he asks but you’re still too fucked out to comprehend his question, leaving him to figure it out on his own, “Stay here, baby, I’ll be back,” he instructs, putting on his boxers and tucking his semi-hard cock into them. 

Leaning an ear to the door, Sunghoon assesses if anyone magically came home while you two were going at it like animals. The silence he hears elicits relief into his body as he opens the door, confident no other member of the Kang family will see his practically naked figure.

Opening a few doors through trial and error, he stumbles into Minhee’s room. The curiosity within him leads him to look around, hand searching for the light. Once he switches it on, he sees exactly what he was expecting, a clutter of mess placed in every corner. It’s similar to his room, decor-wise, but there’s one thing that he notices, standing prominent on Minhee’s nightstand. 

Sunghoon reaches for the picture of you at 3 years old, sleeping next to your older brother, hugging one another tightly. You’re wearing matching pyjamas and smiles with no cares in the world. He knows your bond with Minhee is strong, stronger than most siblings; he thinks perhaps that’s why it was so easy to forgive you for lying to him. Seeing this picture now only punctuates his thoughts.

And after his conversation with Minhee today, he knows you would both do anything to protect one another.

“What are you doing in here?” you ask, hugging him from behind. Your eyes stare at the picture in the frame and you laugh, “Oh my days, Minhee and I were so young back then,” you fondly pout.

Sunghoon wraps an arm around your shoulder, “I was looking for the bathroom to get you cleaned up but I came across his room,” he admits sheepishly, rubbing your shoulder.

“Hmm,” you acknowledge, taking the frame and placing it back on the desk. You pause your motions as you look around his desk. It had been a long time since you had been in your brother's room, possibly 2 years, but you don’t remember all of the clutter on his worktop.

Picking up the paper fortune teller, you can't help but laugh at the whimsical relic of your childhood, "I didn't know he kept all this stuff," you say wistfully, your fingers tracing the faded creases of the paper. Memories flood your mind as you recall the countless hours spent crafting these simple yet cherished treasures with your brother.

Your gaze then falls upon the painting, a colourful masterpiece that holds a special place in your heart despite its simplistic charm. "And look at this," you remark, your voice tinged with nostalgia. "I remember making this in nursery. It was supposed to be a house, but I’m clearly no Picasso," you chuckle, the memory bringing warmth to your heart.

Putting it back, you see the picture you sent him from your award ceremony, sitting proudly next to his mouse, “He printed this out?” you ask no one, “I thought this would be the last picture he would want to see every day.”

The picture didn’t just represent your achievement, it represented the lies you sat in for months without Minhee knowing. This picture was amongst the bunch that had you and Sunghoon sitting happily in love, an accidental click that exposed your deceit. 

Sunghoon kisses your temple, “He’s proud of you, baby,” he says, trying to ease your tense shoulders, “That night, sure, the aftermath was a shitshow. But you still achieved something amazing, and he’s proud.”

His words lighten you a little, a smile creeping on your face as you put it back. Shaking your emotions away, you look up at your boyfriend, “Let’s get out of here, I’ll show you where the bathroom is.” You push him out of Minhee’s bedroom, closing the door behind you.

“While you’re up,” Sunghoon follows you, hand in yours, “Why don’t we just take a shower?” he suggests, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously.

You roll your eyes and open up the bathroom door, “Fine, but only quickly, last time I started to shrivel up like a prune with how long you kept me in there,” you joke, turning the light on. 

Sunghoon smirks, “I promise, I’ll be quick,” he leans down to your ear, “I’ll just make sure I go at you rough and hard, hmm?”

taglist (closed!!): @heelee-01 @zerasari @beomgyusonlywife @iwaplant @monstanctiny21 @chiiiiiiiiis @minniejenseo @run2gyuz @jngwnlvs @haelahoops @capri-cuntz @nctislifue @jaehoonii @weyukinluv @skzenhalove @enhypenlovre @cherriruto @bambangan @who-tf-soddhi @nxzz-skz @nshmrarki @hotsforikeu @enhastolemyheart @erehkinnie30 @judeduartewannabe @neosexual @fakeuwus @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @tobiosbbyghorl @kimsunoops

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟔 : 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡/𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐱 - 𝐂.𝐒 ♡

Whoops

【sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs】 : You wanted to show your hot-headed lover that you could protect yourself. And what better way than to go looking for his number on rival....

『ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ』 :  3.07k

-> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Mafia Au. Smut. Angst. 

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: MobBoss!San x F.Reader

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs] : Mention of criminal activity. Flirting. Manipulation. Seducing disgusting men (ew). Sweet talking, dirty talk, making out, neck kisses. Biting and marking. Aggressive San. Pet names. Mention of guns. Abuse. Fucking in public (kinda). San is literally crazy and you love it hehe. Punishment. Swearing. Fingering. Pussy slapping. Degrading. (use of slut). Praise. Head-spinning vibes. Spit cause San likes it dirty and messy. Death. You both are sadistic and crazy okay this is pure filth.

Thank you, @kitten4sannie , for requesting San for this day ♡♡♡.

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober 2023 List

You had enough. All he did was worry about you and your way of life. He worried to the point the point he became paranoid. Adding more guards at almost every door of your home and always making sure there was someone by your side. In truth, you did appreciate him for worrying, but not to the point, of him locking you in the house cause "the outside world is a bad place."

That was the last straw. He can't just lock you away like some doll that just sits and looks pretty for him. You were strong, hold your own. Just because you weren't born into this dark life doesn't mean you couldn’t handle it. So, to say you were fuming was putting it lightly.

You devised a plan, granted probably a stupid plan, but a plan nonetheless. To bring San the one man that's been tormenting him into thinking you were unsafe. His enemy Lucas. A ruthless mob boss on the border of Seoul. He didn't own much land, but he made up for it in trade. San and him had been fighting for territory for years. And their fathers before that. So, of course, if you were to bring Lucas to grovel at San's knees for even better, just kill him. It would solve your problems.

Go big or go home, right?

You were dressed to impress. A lavish tight dress that hugged your figure in all the right places and heels that you were already begging to take off as they scratched your ankles. You were dolled up to perfection, and the best thing was that no one knew who you were. Sure, they knew of you, the infamous woman who stole the heart of the cold and cruel King of Seoul. But no one had a face to a name, San made sure of that.

So you kind of thanked his overprotectiveness at this moment. But this was no time to thank your hot-headed lover. This was time to prove to him—and yourself—that you were more than capable of being in this dark world, his world.

You weaved through people of the loud nightclub, drawing attention from most of the men in the room. All of them were likely criminals in some way that you were aware of. In this world, no one's hands are clean. You also knew that this bar was what people called open danger. This meant no one owned it, and it was a "safe space" for gangs to strike deals with one another, and people in the underworld could mingle.

That also meant it was no man's land, where anyone and everyone was vulnerable.

San had told you about these types of bars, and of course, he also said never to go to one. But here you were scanning the field of people to find who you were looking for. You did some digging and managed to find out that Lucas liked to converse in this particular club and that he also, always without fail, took a girl home from said place. So that's what you were going to do;

Be the bait and make him fall.

Your heart was racing, but you kept a straight face. Quickly reaching into your bag and finally turning on your phone and not even a second, messages, and missed calls flooded your notifications. San would have found out by now that you were missing and tried using your phone tracker to find you. But given your phone was off, he would have been rageful knowing he couldn't find you. You scanned some of the messages

'Baby, where are you? Answer me, please.'

'You better not be somewhere stupid'

'I swear to god when I find you, you're in for the punishment of your fucking life.'

The last one made you feel a little dizzy. And now that your phone is back on, San would surely show up here at any moment. So you had to act fast, in order for your plan would work. Spotting Lucas sitting in an open booth with two guards on either side, you acted on your plan. All those drama classes you took as a kid were about to pay off, as you waltzed over with your hips swinging enough to get his attention. His eye immediately scanned your figure sickeningly. He was scum, a pig, and honestly a terrible criminal.

But you needed him gone. To end San's stress once and for all. You learnt the rules of the game, watched how mob bosses played their hand, and now it was your turn to join.

"This seat taken?" Your voice was sweet as candy, making anyone melt from the tone. You battered your eyes and bit your lip, falling easily into the role of sweet and innocent. The pig was instantly intrigued, wanting you to be near him. He didn't say anything, no, he just patted the booth seat next to him, widening his thighs in a poor attempt to "show off" his physique to you.

You just giggled even though you'd rather puke. But you needed to do this now or never. San would definitely be on his way now, and time was running short. So the art of sweet talking began. You laughed at his stories, placing lingering touches on his shoulders and chest. Your face sat a little too close to his at some points, almost daring him to kiss you. You were seductive, observant, and cutthroat.

That's how you ended up leading him to a private booth out the back with his guards long but forgotten at the original seating place. His hands gripped your hips as his disgusting lips found your neck while his bad breath pooled near your poor nose.

Your fingers tangle in his oily hair, keeping his head near you. He trailed before reaching your large necklace. His gross chapped lips kissed your gold pendant. His inner lip grazed the beautiful Ruby, San's signature gemstone. His birth gem. But Lucas obviously didn't take in that detail.

"You are the sexiest thing I've ever seen." He grumbles finely, pulling away to look at you with hooded eyes. Your stomach turned, but your smile never faltered. The urge to punch him was high, but you pushed your feelings aside as you placed your hand on his thigh with a slight tilt of your head.

"Aren't you a charmer." You giggled. "But talking isn't really my...thing."

His eyes widened, breath hitching in his chest as he bit his lip. "Well, well, what is your thing, hot stuff?"

You got up slowly, making sure his eyes never left your figure. You double-checked in your surroundings in the meantime, making sure you were still alone—which you were—, before seductively lifting your dress, letting him get a pervy view on your legs.

"My thing involves something more..." You placed your heeled foot right on the edge of his chair, letting the top of your foot rest onto his bugle, pressing down slightly, making him hiss. "...Firey."

You pulled out the small gun that was on your thigh holster, placing it perfectly in aim with Lucas's gross forehead. His eyes widened, visibly gulping. Before he could protest his shock, a loud bang followed by gunfire was heard throughout the club.

If you timed this correctly, it was currently three-thirty in the morning, and you innocently tipped the manager of this club that a flush-out would take place and that everyone needed to be out of said club by at least three AM, leaving you alone with Lucas and his bodyguards.

“W-what did you do?” Lucas growled trying to stand up but the pressure on his stupid cock got firmer, making him silence his high-pitched whine in an instant. You showed no emotion, not a single expression to help him read you. He was completely at your mercy. And as if his heart couldn’t sink more into his throat, when he saw who walked through the curtained door frame made the beat in his chest stop.

“So this is where my darling ran off too.” San's deep rumble could make anyone melt, especially you. You could feel his gazing eyeing you but not like how Lucas did prior, it was filled with desire, possessiveness, and greed. His steps echoed in the silent door, making the cowardly male below you flinch. But you didn't falter, keeping your gaze on the man that caused so much annoyance in your life, pain in San’s life. A pest that you were more than willing to exterminate at the command of your lover.

“I knew, you’d look hot with a gun in your hand.” San’s voice whispered in your ear biting your lobe slightly. You tried not to close your eyes and fall into your lover’s embrace but his cologne was drawing you in like a siren to a pirate at sea. You might have been pissed off at him prior to coming here but now all you wanted is him to hold you, treat you like the royalty he believes you are. “I see you caught me a rat.”

His feline smile painted his features making Lucas look anywhere other than the larger mob boss. You just hummed, tilting your head slightly before leaning more forward putting more pressure on Lucas’s manhood. “Anything to get you to stop stressing.” was the only thing you could follow with, suddenly feeling him grab your chin turning your face to finally look at him.

His eyes were red, most likely from crying, cause even though he was this big mafia leader, he was in touch with his emotions, even crying when you two watch sappy romance films. His hair was messy and not slicked back as he usually had it. He was messier, but in the eyes of anyone else, they would only see a terrifying cruel man with a stare that could kill. But you saw through that, the chaos in his mind. The stress and loneliness. He was most definitely freaked out about you missing prior to this ordeal. But this needed to be done, even though you feel a slight twang of guilt. “I did this all for you. I would do anything for you… My love.”

You meant every word, and San knew it. But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t going to punish you for disappearing and almost causing him a heart attack. His lips attached to your neck, inhaling your scent while he sucked a red mark on your skin. he didn’t know what he did to deserve such a seductive, slightly sadistic bitch such as yourself. God, he was madly in love sometimes he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Well, I think this calls for a game.” San clicked his fingers making two of his high-end bodyguards come in to ‘help’ with your friend. The large guards tied Lucas up tightly to the chair also covering his mouth with tape, letting you finally take your foot off his jewels. You lowered your gun letting San wrap his hand over the top, before latching his lips on yours sinking you in for a deep, harsh kiss. He switched the safety on without even looking before playing the gun in his back pocket all the while his hands grasped your hips, drawing you near. You could feel his bugle against your tummy, moaning against his wet tongue before he pulled away;

“The game we are going to play is called ‘what you couldn't have’.” He turns to Lucas, “You being yourself there Lucas.” His smile was sinister, eyes filling with filthy ideas. “You are going to watch me fuck the life out of my wife and then she gets to shoot you. Doesn’t that sound like fun.” He bit his bottom lip, eyes wide with excitement and craze. You inhaled sharply hearing his words. Feeling San prop you up onto the bar table in the corner of the room but still in complete view of Lucas.

San got to quick work, pulling down the straps letting your tits spring free, ripping the large necklace off with his as he snapped the straps of the gown. His lips latched on your left nipple while he pinched the other with his fingers, rolling the bud against his thumb. You moaned in a high-pitched tone, feeling electricity pool down your shiver. Your legs spread wider, making your dress ride up and San slip in between. His hips ground against yours, gifting you a groan from him. “Mine.” He mumbles against your breasts. “All mine.”

Lucas groaned trying to move but in toe only moved the chair slightly. This caught the attention of San and yourself, making your lover stand up straight. “Now, Now Lucas. Your time will come soon.” the mob boss didn’t even look over to the coward in the chair, just giving in a cold reminder that he was certainly going to die by the event's end. San’s hand cupped your soaking cunt making your eyes snap back to his. Biting your bottom lip, staring at him with hooded eyes, your eyebrows slowly knitted together as he pushed a finger and then a second soon after into your pussy. “Not wearing panties is very naughty baby, that’s another point added to punishment.”

You seemed to be racking up for a punishment later most likely when you were in the comfort of your own bedroom. But for now, San fucked your cunt with his fingers at such a harsh pace you couldn't hear the world around you as your ears rang and your moans bounced off the dark painted walls. “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck S-Sannniee.”

He pulled out and slapped your pussy, hard. “Good girls don’t have dirty mouths, another point.” He mumbled giving your pussy another whack before he pushed his fingers inside you again. You cried, feeling yourself tip over before you could voice your plea, squirting all over the table and San’s fingers and arm, making his button-up, soaked in your juices.

“I-..mm I’m sorry.” You apologized for coming without his permission but he didn’t seem to approve. Pulling you off the table, he turned you around, letting your dress fall completely off completely. You heard the zipper of his slacks feeling heat pour from your cunt. Swaying your ass side to side, you begged. “Please fuck me, sir, I’ll be good. I promise.”

His cock snapped into you without a second thought, pulling your top half up so your back was flushed against his chest. His mouth bit down on your shoulder causing you to scream in pain but his cock nestled so deep inside you made your head spin in pleasure. “Good? You think after you’ve been acting like a slut, throwing yourself on this loser and coming without my permission I’ll forgive you? My sweet dumb baby. Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that stupid airhead brain of yours.”

His words stung in the best way possible and if it was said by any other man you would have fought back. But San made it sound too delectable. “I’ll be good, I promise.” You tried to beg again even though, you knew deep down it was useless.

“Promise?” He thrusted with his word. “Good?” He thrusted again. “The only thing you’re good for is being my sweet little cock sleeve while I fucked you full.” He cupped your face squeezing your cheeks together so you could look at him. “That I promise.”

He let you go making you fall onto the table, your hands gripped the oak wood as you felt every harsh thrust that San did. His balls hit your clit in the right movement. Everything was overwhelming but perfect at the same time. You needed to come again, needed him to come. “San please I need..I need your come.”

His dark chuckle sent shivers down your spine, making you look over your shoulder but before you could make eye contact with your lover your eyes locked onto Lucas. He had plea in his features, silently begging to be let free. And as you cast your gaze down you noticed his aching bulge threw his pants. Pig, you thought. San noticed as well, suddenly pulling out so he could swing you around placing you back on the table, his strong grip holding you in place as he entered your abused cunt again. “want my come baby? Such a good baby, asking for her fill. Don’t worry darling I’ll give you what you want."

And with that, his thrusts got faster even if that was possible. You felt so high from him that you were floating on a cloud and no one other than San could touch you. “San I—It’s okay baby, come for me,” He finished your sentence letting you tip over the edge, creaming deliciously on his cock while he squirted his hot seed deep inside you.

“Fuck, baby.” San groaned seeing all his juices mixing with yours. He spat on your clit, making you moan as he rubbed his saliva in with your cum. San always had to be messy, even when you were in public. Before you could say anything a large cough caught your attention and San’s. It was Lucas, the tape around his mouth had blood spewing from all sides and his eyes started to leak a red crimson. He was thrashing around, trying to escape whatever was him his body but all he managed was to tip the chair on his side making him let out a huff along with gargled coughs. And with a last shallow breath, he suddenly stopped dead….

“Oops…” Was all you said making San snap his gaze quickly back to you. His face was painted with a ‘what the fuck’ expression. You almost completely forgot that the ruby on your necklace was laced with poison and Lucas "happened’’ to kiss it, ingesting the poison which was slowly activating. “Yeo gave me a poisoned necklace..”

San immediately knew what that meant and he kinda thanked the lord that the necklace got ripped off when he tore the dress off. “Impressive.” Was all he said, pushing himself forward slightly, feeling your overly sensitive cunt squeeze him. “Fuck, I could fuck you again if it wasn’t for the dead corpse behind us.”

“That hasn’t stopped you before.” You tilted your head while biting your bottom lip. He just grumbled moving in to bite your neck again;

“You are the death of me, darling.”

- ♥︎

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Yandere! Rival! Male! Teacher x gn! Teacher! Reader

This one is long overdue I'm afraid. Have my boy, Elias >c< not much yandere traits here, but I hope y'all enjoy still!

Trigger warning: toxic academic set-up

Yandere! Teacher name: Elias

Elias was about to loose his mind.

For years, he's the teacher that produced geniuses! It's his class that had majority of their students on honor rolls. It was his magnum opus, his way of teaching that pushes his kids to full potential.

Parents scramble to have their children under his advisory. He made sure that all of his students become the talk of the school.

Pressure? What's that? The students should be privileged to be under him and his care!

After all, Elias started small.

He's the black sheep of the family. The entirety of his family members were geniuses in their own right.

Of course, it meant Elias is also a genius.

But he kept getting outshined by his own step-brother, Tae-Joon.

Tae-Joon is not as much of a genius as Elias when it comes to academics, but he's charismatic to a tee and is an amazing singer.

Amazing in fact that he's a popular idol.

And poor Elias always getting snubbed due to his brother's naturally nicer personality.

And Elias? Straight up nasty sometimes. His tongue is sharp and is always more pessimistic than optimistic. He's higher than thou personality definitely earned him a lot of enemies. Even his own family.

He knew that he can't count on his own family to give him the validation he wanted. So, with a resentful heart, he made sure to snub his own family and focus on himself.

This made him want to help other people. And he did it by offering tutoring lessons to his struggling, dumb, and idiotic classmates who can't understand such a simple topic.

Well, not everyone can be a genius like him.

But this proved to be a good path, as Elias found out that he had a knack in teaching. His way of teaching was so easy to understand that a toddler will be able to know how to do physics.

It's odd, but it's true.

His classmates suddenly became experts on the subject and this snowballed into others wanting to learn from Elias too.

This inflated his ego a lot. He loved the fact that people wanted to learn from him. The validation he seek was given by his tutees who praised and thanked him for making them not just understand, but even excel in their chosen topics to be taught with.

And Elias knew he wants to go down the Education path.

At first, he's a bit whiplashed by how different actual teaching is to the "ideal" way of teaching is. It was almost too good to be true that even the professors said that the ideal way is just a bunch of baloney that they can just flat out ignore the way once they're actually on field.

Not for Elias though.

He wanted to bring to life the "ideal" way of teaching.

So once he graduated, he continued to exert so much effort in his instructional materials, his facade of approachability, but still so strict that it feels like you want to choke from it. Sure, he has the art of being a perfect teacher to a tee, but people know that Elias is a demon in disguise. He hates it when things don't go his way, or the rules aren't followed. One trash means a personal lection that ends up with the students in tears.

The parents? Only said that their student must have deserved it to have stoked the ire of the respectable teacher. Like a brainwashed hive, the parents and other staff say that "Teacher Elias won't do anything without reason". This meant that the students are walking on eggshells everyday. And they know they'll get Elias' anger if they don't improve at all.

And, with Elias' incredible way of teaching, and the "ideal" way combined, the students under him become geniuses.

Like his family genepool, the children Elias' produces are geniuses in their own rights.

Elias felt whole now. He has a family to boast about, to care and love, and to nurture unlike his idiotic family who favors his brother over him.

But what he didn't expect is that by the first recognition ceremony, his class will be shoved aside just like that by another class.

Elias walked down the isle up to the stage, smiling proudly as his stoic yet prideful students stood up to receive their recognition. 25 of them are in the honor roll, and 5 of them are high honors. That much elicited a thunderous applause from other classes.

With his head up high, he put medals on each of his student and gave a slight nod of acknowledgement. Everyone was mystified as this class took their awards with such entitlement and arrogance that some found it off-putting.

Did they care though? No. Did Elias care? Also no.

They're the pride of the academy! Who would dare to mock and snide them?

After giving the students their medals, they sat down and waited for the other classes to get their awards.

Elias' students, adapting his high and mighty attitude, looked down on the other students who walked to the stage to receive their "measly" awards of perfect attendances and other irrelevant, non-academic awards.

"Thank you, class Uranus. Now, class Neptune, the art program class!"

Art program class? When was that added?

Elias sneered. In his head, he hated anything that concerns art because of his brother. It just reminded Elias of being untalented other than being a genius and snubbed because of it.

He crosses his arms, looking at the adviser and scoffing.

Y/n L/n. From what he remembers, you are the same age as him, and was from a different school before you transferred here in the current school year.

What could a new teacher do in such a short time? Nothi--

"Class Neptune, boasting 5 high honors, 2 highest honors, and 23 honor students, and excellence awardees for their respective art specialty."

"EXCUSE ME?!"

Everything went quiet when Elias stood up, disbelief marring his face as he heard the emcee say the tally of the class.

It was so quiet save for the background music that sounds embarrassingly loud for such a pin drop environment.

Elias, feeling his ego and pride getting kicked and bruised, slumped down on his chair as he stared at you who was looking at him with disbelief.

You...

You're an enigma.

How did you do it?

He bits his nail, his eyes low and shadowed as he watched your sweet and proud smile directed at your happy students.

You don't look arrogant, nor prideful. Just happy and elated for your also equally elated students. No pretenses, no eyes that judges others, just pure joy.

It pisses him off so much.

That's where he knew he must take over you. Nobody dethrones him as the best teacher in the academy! Especially not some art teacher. Anything but an art teacher.

Once school resumed again for the second semester, he spotted you walking along the hallways with your students tailing behind you, talking and chatting happily.

"tch." Elias says underneath his breath as he watches how comfortable the students are with you. He envies it.

"Oh? Good morning Mr. Elias." You found him by his doorway and smiled politely. "Do you need something?"

He freezes, not realizing he's looking at you too intently. He clears his throat, looking away in embarrassment.

"I need nothing, art teacher. I will get going." He said coldly, slamming his class door close.

You didn't like that.

"well, that was rude." You whispered, clasping your hand together.

In all honesty, you didn't really like how Elias leads and teaches his class. You saw how tense they are, always studying and studying with nothing to do afterwards but only studying again. There must be a balance at all times.

"Let's go kids." You said sternly, looking at the closed door intently, sensing a competition forming.

After that, it was tense always.

Doesn't help that your class is across him.

Your students weren't hostile with them initially, but after the blatant aggression from them due to being upstaged in the recognition ceremony, they're starting to pick fights too.

So, whenever you saw Elias, you became hostile also. Not outwardly like him who's openly glaring, but you have your reservations as you smiled curtly everytime you pass by him, and words stringing along some sarcasm in them.

School events like quiz bowls, spelling bees, even exams became a fierce competition that made your students head butt with each other.

And you always made sure to support your students in a way that's opposite from Elias.

Elias pressured them, always making sure they're working hard by being extra strict than usual that one thin slice to the air can cut the atmosphere.

Meanwhile you encouraged your students, making sure they're well rested and happy while doing it. You made sure not to force them to do these honestly toxic rivalries.

So, guess which one excelled more?

"WHAT IS HAPPENING WITH ALL OF YOU?!" Elias yelled at his students, completely dissapointed at their performance at the annual intramurals' quiz bowl. Other than in the World Literature and Science section, they were second to your class. "DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY HOURS I SPENT TEACHING ALL OF YOU?!"

He's so close to snapping. Maybe he already did. But now he's going insane.

Everything he believed about himself is shattering slowly because of you and your class.

What's even eerie is that the students are just looking down, unfocused or dissociating.

Annoyed and feeling like he failed them, he marched out of the classroom and slammed the door close.

He sped walk outside, sitting on the grass as he tried to suppress the imminent tears settling on his eyes.

"fuck... I'm such a failure." He gritted out, gripping his once perfectly ironed shirt. "This is all I'm good at and I'm still lacking at it?! What am I doing wrong?"

He started to question everything. His worth, his value, his time and knowledge spent on nurturing geniuses like him.

Is he even a genius? Or just a hard worker?

"Sir Elias?"

He jumped, looking at you. Your eyes were wide with concern as your voice mellowed out from the usual curt yet cold voice you always sported when talking to him.

You sat down beside him as he looked away in shame.

"what happened? I heard yelling and..." You whispered, a gentle clasp on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Elias' throat burned, and his jaw trembled as he tried to stop himself from crying.

Did he really just have to get comforted by his rival? Really?

But god, did it feel nice to have someone care for him.

"I'm... I'm not." He whispered, looking away. "I know I'm a terrible person for pressuring these bright young minds but... How do you do it, y/n? How do you nurture students to their full potential? Are you some kind of monster or what?"

For the first time, you laughed out loud in front of him.

And for the first time also, it made his heart skip a beat. What's happening to him?

"No, I just... Teach normally." You said. "Well, other than that, I don't really pressure them to do anything. But I encourage them greatly with intrinsic motivations. And I make teaching enjoyable."

Enjoyable? When was the last time Elias enjoyed something? No. When did his students last enjoyed studying?

"Really..." He whispered, looking down. "Enjoyment, huh? And motivation?"

You smiled and stood up, handing your hand to him.

"Truce? I could teach you how to be less strict and let your students be more inclined to study without potential punishment." You suggested.

His eyes followed your hand, and his heart raced.

Without hesitation, he clasped it.

"Hey, did you do our project?"

"Yeah, duh. Here's mine."

"That looks so good!"

"I had help from the Neptune Class for the planets. It's actually really fun to paint, believe it or not."

"I had help too in exchange of teaching them with physics."

Elias smiled, looking at his students actually Converse with one another and not just burying their heads on their books. The once quiet classroom is bustling with life thanks to you.

After that fateful day, you taught him on what's the most important. And it's the students, not the academic gratitude.

Elias apologized deeply to his students, and they had a heart to heart conversation that you supervised to make sure both sides say their thoughts equally.

Now, the Uranus class is livelier than ever.

And you?

You're still the same brilliant teacher he came to admire and love.

Love is a loaded word, but he truly felt grateful to you. You made him see the truth, the light, and the way to become a teacher he tried to achieve by pretending.

He found himself wanting to be around you more and more.

At first, it truly was just gratitude. But now, he can't bear to be away from you.

You're his salvation that he deeply desired in his heart.

He wishes to worship the ground you walk on, the breath you take in, and consume your entire being to be with him.

His heart lurched when a student called for his name, breaking him from his train of thought.

"Teacher Y/N is here for you!" The student said, pointing at the door.

He quickly closed his phone, which the wallpaper is a stolen photo of you just outside of your home, and pocketed it.

You're the only one who understands him. The only one who asked him if he's okay, and sees him for him and not his genius.

And he'll be damned to let you go.

You're his family now, alongside your students.

He can feel the heavy weight of the engagement ring in his backpocket.

In his head, there's no way you're going to reject.

And if you do...

He shook his head. It's impossible! Truly impossible. He won't allow it at all.

In his head, you two are perfect for each other. He'll worship your entire being, and spoil you rotten. It's going to be a good life with him.

But the both of you aren't even together at all.

What will happen?

Who knows.

All you must know is that things aren't gonna go smoothly no matter the choices.

He's too far in his head to think properly.

[thebabblingbrookenook]

Love To Hate You

Pairings: Anthony Bridgerton x Female Reader

Summary: Anthony Bridgerton has been your favorite rival since college. Nothing gets your blood pumping quite like getting under his skin. No matter how much you love to see him squirm, you hate the defeated look on his face at someone else's hands. You never thought you'd see the day when your only worthy opponent would become you're most exciting conquest.

Warnings: 18 & Older - Oral, Rough Sex, Degradation, Praise, Strong Language, Spanking

Word Count: 5.6k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three days.

                That’s how long this merger had been at a standstill.  You’d spent the last 72 hours listening to a room full of grown men performing a metaphorical dick measuring. It was a miracle that your eyes weren’t permanently rolled to the back of your head.

                The only thing keeping you from telling your pompous asshole of a boss to swallow his pride and make a few concessions was the palpable irritation radiating off the man seated across from you at the conference table.

                Anthony Bridgerton.

                Since your college days, you had lived to needle this man. He wore every expression clear as day across his annoyingly handsome face. It was so easy to rile him up, and even more rewarding to spar with him when he came back at you with his sharp, alluring tongue. He had proven himself a worthy opponent – someone who was not only willing to play with you, but who was capable of leaving you a panting, sweaty mess under his designer shoe.

                The crease between his brow deepened with every idiotic word that left his associate’s arrogant mouth. Something about this man’s tone pissed you off. He spoke with the authority that Anthony was allowing him to possess, but it fit him just as poorly as that knock-off suit that stretched too tightly across his bulky shoulders. He would never wear that power like Anthony. Anthony earned his arrogance and wore it like the fucking king he was.

                This guy needed to be humbled in an embarrassingly public way. Bonus points for the emasculation he’d feel once you shredded his ego to a bloody pulp with the ace you were hiding up your sleeve. Not only would this shut up the blundering idiot still talking out of his ass, but it would also piss Anthony the fuck off. It wasn’t hard to imagine the shade of red the tips of his ears would turn as he tried to reign in his temper.

                Squeezing your thighs together under the table to suppress your arousal, you turned to your rival with a knowing smirk.

 “Bridgerton, I knew you were reckless, but I never thought you were sloppy. You’ve clearly taken your eye off your company if you’re letting Vickers here run unsupervised around your kingdom.”

                His shoulders stiffened in delicious frustration at the sound of your voice, but his lips turned up mischievously as he took you in.

“Careful, darling. Do you really want to play that game? I can assure you; my eyes see all.” The aforementioned eyes slid down to where your legs were pressing together in desperation beneath the table. “Every. Single. Detail.”

Fuck. Why did his voice have to be so hot?

Shake it off, bitch. Your pussy can get hers later. Right now, you need to focus on your takedown.

“Oh, is that so?” You smiled back at him, willing him to take the bait.

You didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on your chest just a moment more than was polite.

“I’m a man of my word sweetheart. And control is my drug of choice.”

Oh, this was too good. He was about to lose his mind when you yanked away his high and sent him spiraling into a bad trip.

“So, you were aware that your associate signed contract amendments on your behalf? And if I had to guess, he didn’t read them fully because according to these documents… Anthony Bridgerton consented to the 40% increase over the first 12 months. And then an additional 20% based on profit margins.”

The color drained from his face as your words hit home. A chill ran down your spine at his utterly lethal expression. You were used to his irritation. Intimately familiar with his anger… but this was different.

You could feel it the moment the last shred of restraint left his body. His already dark eyes turned almost black when he fixed them on his target.

“Is this true, Luther?” His voice was deceptively calm, but you could sense the predator lurking beneath the surface.

“Of course not,” Luther lied. “Are you really going to believe this manipulative bitch over me? That’s what she does. Why do you think Morrison hired her firm for legal representation. She’s a lying cun- …”

“STOP TALKING!” Anthony roared. “Finish that sentence and I will shove my foot so far up your ass you’ll be tasting leather.”

The room was deafeningly quiet now. A rush of wetness flooded between your legs when Anthony turned his gaze to you, and you couldn’t stop the little gasp that escaped your lips. Anthony may have gotten his high from control, but you thrived on chaos. And this was the very definition of playing with fire.

“Contracts…” he said, thrusting his hand toward you in a demand.

Victory was all but dancing in your eyes as you slid the papers under his waiting fingertips. Checkmate. This round went to you,

After a diligent assessment of his forged signature, his fingers curled into fists, crumpling the paper in his grasp.

It would be easy to prove the signatures invalid, voiding the contract and rendering it moot. But God, was it worth it to bask in the absolute manic energy he was barely keeping contained.

That simply wouldn’t do. You wanted to see him erupt.

You were in the midst of your plan to stoke the flames when Luther all but did the work for you,

“She’s lying Anthony! Come on, mate. You know me!”

“I do know you,” Anthony deadpanned. “You’re the same conniving, slippery bastard you’ve always been. And we are most certainly not mates. Apparently, you’re also a moron! Do you honestly believe I can’t decipher between my own signature and a fraud? It’s right fucking here in bold black ink, you twat!”

Luther opened his mouth to argue like the true dunce he was, but Anthony silenced him with his glare alone. The danger in his slow, deep voice all but purred over my skin.

“Get. The fuck. Out of my sight.”

“You can’t just fire me! I helped you build this fucking company. You’re nothing without me, Bridgerton!”

“I can, and I just did.” His careful, composed mask was slipping back into place and you already missed his rage. “You’re done here Luther. There won’t be a single person in this industry willing to work with you after I’m through.”

Shoving back forcefully, Luther pushed up from his rolling chair and straight into the woman carrying a try full of coffee orders for the room. It all happened so fast and there was absolutely nothing anyone could do to stop it.

The tray flung from her hands, dumping its contents onto Anthony’s broad chest and waiting lap. He stood abruptly, cursing under his breath, hands frantically trying to shoo the scalding liquid from his body.

When the woman’s hands reached out to assist him, your entire body froze. She was touching him, and you fucking hated it. You were also unsure of how he would react to the blunder. Luther deserved his wrath, but this poor girl did not.

Your heart did something funny in your chest when he gently gripped the wrists of the panicked, trembling woman in front of him.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Bridgerton! It was an accident. Are you okay?!”

“Jeannine…” he soothed. “Jeannine, it’s okay. I’m perfectly fine. Maybe a little wet, but unharmed. So, there’s no need for tears.”

Ugh… Now she was looking at him like she’d just fallen in love with him. You mean, kind of like you were 30 seconds ago? Shut up, brain! Don’t look at me like that. You saw nothing, and I don’t want to talk about it.

Anthony rubbed his hands up her arms to reassure her once more. “I could use a new set of clothes. Could you send for something for me?”

She beamed at him. “Of course, sir. I’ll get anything you’d like. That’s what I’m here for.”

Eye roll. Of course she had called him sir. And he undoubtedly loved every second of it.

“Thank you, Jeaninne. You’re truly invaluable. You know my sizes, and you know what I like, so I have no doubt you’ll choose something that flatters me.”

“That won’t be hard to do,” she blushed up at him.

His answering smile made you want to smack it right off his face. Charming bastard.

“Buy yourself something as well. Anything you want. Cost is no problem. I fear your pretty white blouse is ruined now.”

Yeah, you scoffed. Ruined and conveniently see through.

Jeaninne gave him one last embarrassed smile before retreating from the room. Before she reached the door he called after her.

“Oh, and Jeaninne… If you wouldn’t mind calling security to have them escort Mr. Vickers from premises.”

She replied with a nervous nod before fleeing the room.

You could cut the remaining tension with a knife. Everyone unsure of how to breach the standoff.

Predictably, it was my boss, lulled into a false sense of superiority, who decided to brave speaking.

“Well, well… It looks like the infallible Anthony Bridgerton isn’t invincible after all. It seems my attorney has managed to get underneath all your armor and hit her mark. How does it feel, Bridgerton?”

“How does what feel?” Anthony feigned interest, still wiping coffee from his trousers.

“To know you’re no better than the rest of us mere mortals. You’re just an arrogant boy who was handed his daddy’s company when he didn’t deserve it. Edmund would have never made a mistake like that one.”

Shit.

A small fleck of insecurity washed over Anthony’s features. He recovered quickly, but you saw it. It was an expression that was so out of place on him that for a split second he looked like another person entirely. Someone younger. Less larger than life, and more vulnerable.

It made you uncomfortable. You were the only one who was allowed to push Anthony’s buttons, and even you never wanted to tear him down that far.

Anthony opened his mouth, no doubt to tell your rotund boss to fuck all the way off, but it was your own voice that filled your ears.

“That’s enough! Mr. Morrison, you’re out of line. Don’t pretend to know anything of Edmund Bridgerton. That man would never have even granted you an audience. That’s how beneath him you would have found yourself. If I were you, I’d consider yourself grateful for even getting through the door.”

This meeting was getting out of control quickly. If you knew Anthony, and you believed you did, he was about to cut his losses and scrap the entire deal. He didn’t need this partnership. He wanted it, but he sure as fuck didn’t need it. And from where you sat, that was a dangerous place to be.

If you wanted to cash that big, fat commission check that only came after the ink was dried, you needed to do damage control.

“I think we need to take a breather. Everyone out!”

Mr. Morrison actually had the gall to laugh in your face.

“And I think you need to learn your place. I like you because you’re such a ball busting bitch but make no mistake – I’m the one in charge here. I pay you, not the other way around. So, I suggest you sit down and shut up while the men finish their conversation.”

The air in the room was charged with barely restrained fury. Whether it was yours or his, you couldn’t be sure. Mr. Morrison may have started this war, but Anthony Bridgerton was the one who finished it.

“Speak to her like that again and not only will I cancel this partnership, but I will buy your company outright and dismantle it piece by piece. I’ll sell it for parts while you watch your life’s work burn to ash. Did you think I didn’t know your proposal was a measure of last resort for you? I don’t need you, Mr. Morrison. Make no mistake – I’m the one with the real power here. From my vantage point, you’re the one who needs to learn their place.

Holy fuck…

If Mr. Morrison didn’t get the hell out of this room immediately, he was going to become intimately acquainted with your naked body, because – HOT DAMN! You were pretty sure it was the part of the story where the enemies were about to become lovers.

The look on Morrison’s face would have been funny if your clit wasn’t throbbing to within an inch of its life!

Walking to the door, you opened it and stepped aside, gesturing for him to make himself scarce.  “We can reconvene on Monday. I think calmer heads will yield the best results, don’t you?”

It surprised you when he didn’t try to argue. Anthony’s threat must have done its job.

Closing the door behind him, you locked it and tapped the high-tech keypad to cloak the space in privacy. The floor to ceiling glass immediately turned opaque and the sounds from the surrounding offices disappeared into silence.

You turned to find Anthony leaning against the large boardroom table, arms crossed over his toned chest. His eyes narrowed on you when you took a step towards him.

“I know you’re pleased with yourself, but I didn’t take you for the type to stick around to gloat.”

What a clueless jackass… He had no idea what was about to happen. The two of you had never crossed this line before, but you didn’t think you could survive another second in his presence without your mouth on him. Did he not feel this too?

God, this was going to be so embarrassing if he rejected you. It was a very real possibility. It would make perfect sense with the antagonizing nature of your relationship for him to even the playing field. Was it wrong that it turned you on even more to think about him putting you in your place?

“Shut the hell up, Bridgerton, and take off your pants.” Straight to the point was always the best approach with this man.

Genuine surprise colored his cheeks.

“I beg your pardon?!”

“You have been a raging dick for the past three days. If that vein in your neck is any indication, you’re going to stroke out before we can finish this deal. I’ve put way too much work into this project and spent way too much time in a room filled with guys staring at my tits for me not to get this bonus check. Now, take your fucking pants off so I can suck some of that stress out of you.”

“You’ve been thinking about my raging dick for the last three days, haven’t you?”

The smug turn of his perfect fucking mouth was almost enough to make you change your mind. It felt a bit too much like he was gaining the upper hand.

“And you’ve been thinking about my ass bent over your desk since I stepped foot in here on Wednesday. Don’t act like you don’t stroke yourself to sleep at night to thought of hate fucking me.”

Your fingers went to the buttons on your blouse and started to slowly reveal the lacey black bra beneath. You felt him go still.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice dropping to a sinful register.

“Giving you a better look,” you smirked “Every time I looked up today your eyes were on my tits. Touch them. They feel even better than they look.”

“You’re being serious right now…” he quipped. “What makes you think I would ever want to touch you?”

“Well, for starters,” you said, inclining your head toward his straining crotch. “Your cock looks like it wants to tear through those trousers to get to me. Or had you not noticed?”

You watched, mesmerized as his hand came up to rub himself over the restrictive fabric. Those pants were your new arch nemesis.

“If you want to rid me of my stress, it would be as easy as getting in your car and not coming back. You are the absolute bane of my existence, you know that?”

His surly words were doing nothing but egging you on.

“Maybe…” you purred, stepping into his space. You brought his warm, strong hands up to splay out over your waist. “But I’m also the object of all your desires.”

He growled in your ear when you leaned down to lick the protruding vein running up the length of his neck.

“This changes nothing between us. I still think you are the most infuriating woman on the planet.”

The heat of him looming against your stomach was too much to resist. Your fingers gripped him firmly until you felt him twitch in your palm.

“Are you going to fuck me or not, Bridgerton? If not, I think I saw your brother at the end of the hall when I closed the door.”

You made to pull away from him when his hand locked around the back of your neck, pressing you firmly into the sizable bulge resting between you.

“Don’t you fucking dare. We both know you would eat my brother alive. You’re not that kind of cruel.”

“No,” you agreed. “I’m your brand of cruelty, Anthony. I think someone designed me just for you. The arrogant, entitled prick in need of someone to put him in his place. I’m your comeuppance, baby. Now be a good boy and serve your penance.”

His forehead pressed roughly into yours, trapping you to his gaze.

“You never learned how to shut this smart mouth, did you? You’ve been lashing me with that tongue for 10 fucking years.”

The tongue he just accused of bringing him pain jutted out to show him pleasure, stroking over his kissable lips.

“You don’t want me with my mouth closed, Bridgerton.”

“I don’t know,” he teased. “A little peace and quiet might be a nice change.”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. His pupils blew wide when you dropped to your knees in front of him. “You want my mouth wide open, baby. If you want me to shut up, then fucking make me.”

His fingers threaded into your hair yanking your head back to force your attention on his face.

“You are such a fucking brat. You’re practically begging for someone to teach you a lesson. Is that what you want? Do you want to learn your lesson?”

With all the innocence you could muster, you challenged him one last time.

“I’m an exemplary student. I’m hungry for knowledge, sir. Practically ravenous.”

If he was holding on to his restraint before, it was all gone now. His fingers tightened in your hair, sending a pulsing need to your attention hungry cunt.

“Take my dick out and stick out your tongue. I’m going to fuck that pretty face until you’re crying all over my lap. How does that sound? Do you want to choke on this cock for me?”

A whimpered “fuck” left your lips when he sprang free in front of you. You couldn’t think of anything you wanted more right now than to take him down your throat until he was a mindless mess. Licking your hungry lips, you leaned forward eagerly for a taste, but he pulled you back again.

“I asked you a question. Run that mouth one more time and answer me.”

“Yes,” you nodded enthusiastically. “Please, Anthony. I want to choke on your cock. I want to learn my lesson.”

A visible shudder ran through him at your confession.

“Good-fucking- girl. Give me your tongue.”

For once, you obeyed without protest. If you didn’t taste him soon you might actually die.

His hand guided the warm head of his dick along your waiting tongue. His hissed breath matched your rising desire, and you moaned in pleasure. You needed more. What was he waiting for?

“Any day now, Bridgerton.” Antagonizing him was second nature at this point.

With one exasperated thrust, he slid into your mouth effectively cutting off your air supply. His quick, deep pumps had you gulping around his length. Your eyes were already streaming down your face. The fuzzy, euphoric feeling of oxygen deprivation was starting to dance behind your eyes. Your lungs burned with the need to inhale but there was not a chance in hell that you would stop this.

His needy, frantic movements were setting your blood on fire. Your imagination never could have conjured the sounds rumbling from his throat. If this is how you died, you would do so proudly and with a smile on your face. Your tombstone would be emblazoned with bold lettering that you died doing what you were made to do – choking on Anthony Bridgerton’s perfect dick.

Just when you feared that you would have to admit defeat and beg him for mercy, he pulled free from your greedy mouth leaving you a saliva-soaked mess. His labored breathing was going to be your undoing. Getting a rise out of Anthony Bridgerton had always been your preferred pastime, but this way by far your favorite way to do it.

“Is this what you wanted,” he asked. “Do you think you’ve learned your lesson yet?”

You smiled up at him, eager to poke the bear at every turn.

“Nope…” you said, popping the p in a way you knew would annoy him. “You’re a shit teacher, Bridgerton.”

Fire ignited in his rich brown eyes and your pussy all but cried out for help. The promise that one look held was enough to have you clenching around nothing, wishing he was buried inside you.

You let out a groan of satisfaction when he slapped his cock across your face.

“Did I say you could put your tongue away? Stick it back out and leave it there. I won’t tell you again.”

Desperate to taste him again, you did as you were told. He quickly rewarded your obedience with more slaps along your tongue. It was so dirty and debasing, but you loved every minute of it.

His leaking tip was smearing the salty promise of his relief all over your tastebuds. You almost came on the spot when he spit in your open mouth, coating himself thoroughly on your outstretched tongue.

“Wrap your pretty lips around my cock and swallow that.”

For fuck’s sake! You actually might not survive this.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised. “Look how gorgeous you are when you’re doing what you’re told. Now put your hands on my thighs and hold tight. I’m going to ruin all your pretty makeup.”

Before you even had a chance to brace yourself, he was pumping back into your mouth at a relentless pace. It didn’t take him long to find a pattern that was pushing him towards the edge of his release. After a torturous onslaught of punishing thrusts, he rewarded you by holding you down on himself, burying your nose into the hair at the base of his shaft. The scent of him there was blindingly erotic, and you wanted to cover yourself in it. When he thought you had earned a breath, he would drag you off him and leave you gasping for air before starting the pattern over again.

The pressure building at the apex of your thighs was maddening. Removing one of your hands from his thigh, you reached down to ease the aching. No sooner had you moaned in pleasure around his cock did he take it away from you. You instantly felt bereft at his absence.

“Put that hand back on my thigh. I didn’t say you were allowed to touch yourself. That pussy is mine. It’s mine to touch, mine to lick, and mine to fuck.”

Your brain wanted to be obstinate, but your pussy – she wanted to be owned.

But old habits die hard. When he pushed himself back over your tongue, you scraped your teeth along his shaft in warning. It was enough to do damage, but it definitely got his attention.

Sometimes being a brat pays in spades.

Two strong arms snaked around your waist and hauled you to your feet. The abruptness elicited a surprised yelp from you, and you found yourself splayed out face down over the cool surface of the conference table.

His hands found the slit in your tight pencil skirt and ripped upward until the fabric gave way and your panty clad ass was on full display to the room.

The heat from his toned body and his sinful scent invaded all your senses when he folded himself along your back to growl into your ear.

“Why do you insist on testing me?”

Honesty was the only way you could respond.

“Because you’re the only one I’ve found who can handle the challenge. I love that you’re always willing to play with me, Anthony.”

Your hips started to push back into him involuntarily. There was so little separating your neglected, needy cunt from the one thing it wanted most. The tantalizing friction that his rigid erection provided, along with his deep throaty growl was enough to spur you on.

“Come on, Bridgerton. Give it to me. You know you want to.”

“You don’t deserve it after the stunt you just pulled. Only good girls get fucked when they need it.”

You couldn’t help but goad him. “Well, what do obstinate little bitches deserve? I’ve earned my punishment, Ant. Now fucking give it to me before I find someone else to do it for you.”

His leg pushed open your thighs apart even wider leaving you open and vulnerable. It also prevented your throbbing clit from finding even a modicum of relief. The force he used to drag your soaked panties down the ground had your heart racing all over again. You needed him to fuck you into this table until you couldn’t see straight.

His control was slipping again. It wouldn’t take much more to push him past his limit. If you really wanted to, you could have him pounding you with one strategically worded sentence.

As much as you wanted that, you enjoyed your game. You wanted to see what he’d do when left to his own devices.

You screamed, first in shock, and then in pleasure, when his hand smacked against the skin of your ass.

“Fuccckkkkk,” he groaned. “You filthy little whore. You liked that. I can see that hungry, perfect pussy searching for my cock. You’re dripping down your legs, baby.”

Something about the tone of his voice when he called you baby had your heart misbehaving in your chest. It sounded almost reverent. Like he was proud of you for how much your body begged for him.

“Count and tell me you’re sorry,” he instructed.

“One,” you complied. “I’m sorry, Anthony.”

“Tell me why you’re sorry.” His tone was an order.

“I’m sorry you weren’t man enough to handle a little scrape of my teeth.” The rush you got from needling him was unparalleled.

The next blow was even harder than the last and had you lifting onto your toes. If he thought this was a punishment, he was sorely mistaken. You could easily become addicted to his discipline.

“Two,” you moaned. “I’m sorry, Anthony.”

“Tell me why.” The strain in his voice was a dead giveaway to his level of need.

“I’m sorry I embarrassed in front of the boys today. They probably don’t respect you now.”

That earned you a smack right across your dripping core. It was the perfect mixture of pleasure and pain. You felt like you could pass out from the adrenaline rushing through your system.

He asked you again and again why you were sorry, and each time you provoked him a little more. Your entire backside burned with the memories of the sensations his hands had left on you.

He asked you a final time.

“Why are you sorry, baby? Be honest.”

“Honestly,” you paused, braving your next words. “I’m not sorry. Not even a little bit. We should have done this a long time ago.”

One big hand curled around your throat and lifted your back to his front. His lips crashed into yours for a searing kiss. His other hand slid down your stomach and pressed into your clit with the perfect pressure. His fingers circled you as you moaned into mouth.

“Anthony,” you cried. “Please, fuck me. I need you. I can’t take it anymore.”

His body pushed yours back down to the tabletop and with one swift movement he was buried to the hilt. The stretch was exquisite. How had you gone so long without knowing the feeling of his cock moving inside you? That had to be some sort of crime against humanity.

You were both too far gone. It was impossible to savor it. It was quick, filthy, and hurt in the best way possible. His hips drove you so hard into the edge of the table that the bruises were likely already forming. The sounds the two of you made together were obscene. Skin slapping against skin. The desperate protest your wet heat made when he left your body for a fraction of a second and the whimpered thank you it made when you clutched him back into you.

His voice was the thing that truly sealed your fate. He was vocal and he wasn’t shy about it. His groans. His curses. His generous praise. He left no room for doubt. You were bringing him pleasure and he was lost to the euphoria.

“Fuck! Oh, fuck…” he hissed. “I’m gonna come. Come for me baby. Milk this cock with your tight little cunt.”

As if on command, you could feel the orgasm begin to swell. Your muscles clamped down on him, holding him prisoner inside you. You pulsed around him, and you could feel him get impossibly stiffer as he spilled himself into you.

“Yes. Yessss,” he cried out. “That’s it baby. Ride it out. I’m right there with you. You feel so fucking good.”

Breathing was hard, and your legs were seconds away from giving out on you. You winced at the pain when he pulled from your body. His release trying to follow suit, dripping down your thighs. You were a fucking mess.

His fingers collected your combined orgasms, pushing it back inside.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tutted. “You’re going to keep all of my cum right where it belongs. I’m claiming this fucking cunt, baby.”

His fingers moved from your core to your lips. They were slicked with the evidence of what the two of you had just done.

“Suck,” he ordered.

You were done fighting him. At least for today.

Opening wide, you sucked his fingers into your mouth and tasted the two of you together on your tongue. A little hum of pleasure was all you could express. He had well and truly fucked you.

“Good girl.”

He straightened your body, righting your clothes and wiping the hair back from your sweaty face.

“Don’t move. Stay just like that.”

He moved away from you, gathering something from the other end of the table. When he reappeared at your side, it was with his phone. He pulled the camera up to snap a photo of your sex drunk face and then lifted your skirt again to document the damage he did to your ass.

“You look perfect. Absolutely wrecked.” He turned the phone to show you the picture.

He was right about the wrecked part. Your mascara was streaked all down your face, and your lips were swollen and red from the rough assault he made on your mouth. And you had the matching red hand shaped wilts on your ass cheeks to go with it.

“You’re welcome,” you teased.

“For what, exactly?” He was trying and failing to hide his smile

“I told you I could suck the stress out of you. You look much more relaxed now. Borderline happy even. It’s kind of creeping me out.”

His next words took you by surprise.

“Thank you.”

A loud buzz sounded and Jeaninne’s voice filtered into the room.

“Mr. Bridgerton… Your clothes have arrived, and your lunch is waiting for you in your office. I ordered your favorite.”

You couldn’t help the eyeroll as you continued to button your top.

“Thank you, Jeaninne. You’re the best.”

“You’re shameless,” you accused

“What,” he shrugged. “I like to see how often I can make her blush.”

You huffed in disapproval. The poor girl was probably in love with him.

“Can I ask you something?”

You turned to look him in the face at his sudden change of tone.

“Sure,” you replied. “Ask away.”

“Do you respect me?”

You eyed him in shock. That look of vulnerability was back and you loathed it.

“Is this about what I said earlier? About me embarrassing you in front of your team?”

His silence was the only answer you needed.

“Do I seem like the type of woman who would put your cock in my mouth if I didn’t respect you?”

“No, you don’t.”

“Good.”

You gathered your briefcase and strode towards the door. You only stopped at the sound of his voice.

“I respect you, too.”

“I know,” you smiled. “You wouldn’t play so well with me if you didn’t. Get your shit together, Bridgerton. I’ll see you first thing Monday morning with revised contracts. I’m sure Morrison is chomping at the bit to get this settled after your little pissing contest today.”

Your hand was on the doorknob when he spoke again.

“You want to respect each other again next week?”

You shot him a playful wink before sauntering out of the room. You would most definitely be respecting the hell out of him as soon as humanly possible.

If you were lucky, maybe you could get him to respect you a little less.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@eleanor-bradstreet @faye-tale @musicismyoxygen84 @heeyyyou @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @queenofmean14

[berrieluv]

academic rival!Remus Lupin x reader.

oh, the "who did this to you" trope, my beloved.

None of you knew how it started, and if someone ever dares to ask Remus would most likely groan at them, he didn't understood your dynamic.

He felt that nauseous feeling grow in him when you would get a slightly better note than him, even when it was the same note but your assignment got to be praised by the teachers.

You liked it. You needed the motivation and the competition to stay on top. Some people liked Quidditch, others joined the chess team, you and Remus created a rivalry to get through the school days.

Remus and you have never actually be friends. You liked James and Sirius, you thought they were funny, and in any situation you could imagine yourself dating Sirius, you shared a funny dynamic where you both would flirt. But the competition with Remus' took most of your time, it was almost as if he was your actual boyfriend.

Now that you think about it, you spent most of your time with Remus, or thinking about him, or thinking on defeating him. Your thoughts were 80% Remus Lupin and actually just a 20% school.

Now, in the last party before summer vacation, you both thought of taking a rest. No ditching your friends because you were busy studying, no "I can't drink, I have school tomorrow" anymore.

Just you, Remus and a ridiculous amount of butter beer. And of course, a lot of students as well, but Remus felt like it was only you and him right there.

You looked gorgeous. Remus thinks he never had any chance to look at you this way, to think of you as the most beautiful woman in the room. He knew you were pretty, he may hate you but he wasn't blind. He could see why Sirius had a thing for you. But now, in that exact moment, Remus couldn't take his eyes off you.

You were wearing jeans and a revealing blouse. Classy but somehow informal at the same time, Remus thought that maybe the shoes complete the outfit. That and your tide up hair, he wondered how much it took you to style it like that, he knew there was a lot of effort on the way you tried to make your hair look messy. It was a specific kind of messy you liked.

"Hey, Remus!"

He smiled at the girl who sat by his side, he didn't want to be rude, he was a gentleman, but his mind was killing him to turn around and watch you.

The girl in front of him was pretty, she was funny and she could keep up with any topic Remus would mention, she was well spoken and her body behaved in a way that was almost royalty-like, but he couldn't stop thinking about you, standing just a few steps for him, all that would take was to turn around.

"Remus, are you listening to me?"

No, he wasn't.

"No, sorry, love. What was it?"

She never got mad, not when Remus lost the track of the conversation or when he finally looked behind his back. To his misfortune, you weren't there anymore.

A few hours passed, the first girl was now long-forgotten and Remus was just sitting on the couch listening to Dorcas and Marlene talk about something and occasionally turning to ask him as well.

He felt his body on alert mode when he saw you again. It was around 1:00 a.m., if he was counting right, it was around three hours where he spent without seeing you.

Your face looked in panic. Your arms where hugging your body and your hair was in a different way than before, your lipstick also disappeared and he knew that sad smile way too well to ignore that something happened.

He excused himself from the girls and got up, making all the way to you, touching your arm only to feel you flinching at it, he frowned, because yes, you could say were enemies, but Remus has touch you many times, you could say you were used to it, and not once have you flinch.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes"

But your eyes were filled with tears now and you felt so embarrassed, of what happened and for crying in front of all this people. You hided your face on Remus chest, trying to stop people from seeing you cry, Remus started to move his body a bit so it looked like the two of you were slow dancing, even when the music was nothing like that.

Remus took you upstairs, it was James' home after all, he could do whatever he pleases there.

He sat you on Sirius' couch, in his room and looked at you better, with the lights fully on. There were wounds in your arms, the kind of wounds the nails cause when they're drowning in the skin.

Remus tried to touch your face and you pulled back with an 'ouch', there was no visible marks but he could tell your left cheek was sore comparing to the right one.

"Who did this to you?"

He didn't know why he was so mad – Well, he knew if it was any other girl he could try tot help too –. He didn't know why he wanted to kill, why the Moony part of him felt like waking up when they were so far from the full moon.

You couldn't speak, you didn't knew his name, you only saw a Gryffindor pin in his jacket before he took it off.

"He was blonde" You say with tears in your eyes, not exactly sure why you felt so comforted right there with Remus, you wanted that asshole to suffer. You wanted him to cry, you wanted him to know how it feels to have someone doing things to your body without you wanting them, without you being able to stop it. "He was a Gryffindor"

And it's not like there's only one blonde Gryffindor in Hogwarts, but he knew one that would do exactly something like this.

"Stay here, I don't want you downstairs"

"He didn't... he didn't got far!" You yell before he could exit the door "He just tried, he, he couldn't take off my clothes, completely, he just tried. Nothing happened. I'm overreacting" You said with tears in your eyes, you felt ashamed, you were dirty now.

"More than enough happened" Remus walked away from the door and kneeled in front of you, kissed your knee and looked at you "Now stay here. I don't want you downstairs, alright?"

How could he not know who it was? It was the same blonde Gryffindor who called you 'Remus' little bitch' once, the same man who said out loud in a boys' night at the common room how you were one of the main girls he fantasized about, how he wanted, no, needed, to have you in any way he could.

Remus felt sick at the memory. He remember how the words twisted his stomach back then and he remember doing nothing, one of his Housemates was expressing out loud how he would even come in terms on raping if necessary and he did nothing.

"Remus, I've been looking for you" Sirius says, hanging from his shoulder and walking at Remus' speed once he didn't stop; "Where're we going?"

The boy didn't answer, he couldn't, his tooth were clenching he felt like he could break them at any moment. And the second he saw those blonde hairs and that cocky face he didn't doubt for a moment on throwing the first punch.

Sirius would always tell the story, and he would always mention he swears he has never feel sober up as fast as he did that day.

The alcohol evaporated from his system.

"Mate, what the... what is wrong with you?"

"You know what you did" Remus answers, caressing his fist with his other hand and looking at Tom, ready to kill him at any moment.

"Oh" He chuckled "You mean what I did... to your little girlfriend?"

You were not his girlfriend, but Remus didn't think necessary to point it out now, in fact, he sort of liked the thought of that. He would come to terms with that later.

"She wanted it tho... She was throwing herself at me like a bitch in heat"

And Remus threw another punch. He didn't even think of this one, the only thing he knew is that his hand was already making contact his his face.

Tom fought back, he punched Remus and that's when Sirius thought of getting involve, when that bastard's friends started to go against Remus.

"She was drunk!" He yelled once he felt James pulling him away, Sirius distancing himself from the others once James arrived and yelled at them to stop. "You had no right touching her, she was drunk!"

Lily tried to calm Remus down while James made sure of kick everyone out from the party.

"Remus, relax, alright?" He tried to breath but he couldn't bare to even think of you, scared, begging for it to stop and not feeling strong enough to do something about it, the impotence. "Where is she?"

"Upstairs"

"What if you calm down and go look for her? How does that sound? Spend a bit of time with Y/N, she must be scared and exhausted. She needs you to be there"

He nods, that actually sounded good, just the two of you, lying in Sirius' bed, or you lying in the bed while he's on the floor, maybe just holding hands, he didn't know. He was so confused right now, too many emotions.

Remus walked upstairs and opened the door, you looked at him, worried and ran to inspect his body, he just chuckled.

"I heard the fight" You say, calmly.

"Sorry" He says and you frown "I thought Sirius' room was soundproof"

You shake your head "Why did... why did you get into a fight? You don't fight"

"I've come to realize, that I can only fight when it comes to you. Whether is against you or for you"

"You will fight me?"

"I fight you every single day it's crazy. I spend more time thinking about you than any girl I've like. My relationships don't work because I'm just looking forward the next time I see you in class to see if I did better than you. There's days where the only thing feeding my will to live is our silly competition"

"But will you fight me, tho?" You asked with a smile and curious eyes. "Like you did today"

"I could take you" He simply answer "Not in a fight"

You chuckle and look at him, his hair is messy, even more than it always is, his shirt is missing around three buttons and you can see his chest, his cheek is red and it's starting to turn purple and yet he still looks a weird way of divine.

And you felt brave enough to kiss him. Remus feel like standing on clouds, it was the first time he could confirm he believed in God.

"Does this mean we're not rivals anymore?"

"Don't be silly, Remus. One kiss doesn't erase years of competition. I could mop the dirt with you"

"What about two kisses?"

"I would have to think about it"

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE FATGUM HEADCANONS

Have you SEEN how RIPPED this guy can be? One teensy little slip up, he will not hesitate to take severe and drastic measures for making you behave. Don't get fooled by his looks, and like people say, don't judge a book by its cover. Despite his innocent and harmless friendly side towards you, if you drive him over the edge, or if he's interacting with his rival, he WILL reveal his scary dark side 

This guy is delusional and possessive as a yandere. He has the image of you both happily married and you having his kids in his head and thinks you both were DESTINED to be with each other. Everytime you praise him for something or compliment him, it's just going to add up to MORE of his deluded fantasies 

He's also going to be very overprotective of you since he views you as a tiny defenseless kitten that needs to be protected. He won't do anything that'll make you uncomfortable, in fact, he is very well aware that his feelings for you weren't normal at all, but, he'll still kidnap you. He'll give you as much time as you want to adjust to your new lifestyle since he understands you'll be frightened and scared 

He won't force himself upon you but sometimes, once in a while, he WILL demand cuddles from you. That's IT. And maybe some light forehead kisses. Nothing more, nothing less, PERIODT. He won't keep you tied up and all that. He'll just place a quirk cancelling cuff on your ankle and he'll let you roam around the house whenever you want 

He's the 'I'm sadistic with others and not with you' type of yandere. At least, that's what I think. With you, he'll behave like an obsessed love-struck puppy that'll look like a KICKED puppy when you don't return his affections but with the others, he'll be the living entity of HELL himself and frankly, this man is scary when he's angry

He'll take his time torturing his rivals and his enemies. He just wants you to be safe and feel protected by him. And of course, like every other yandere, he's afraid of losing you and someone trying to steal you away 

Speaking of him cuddling you, you're so tiny compared to him that his entire hand almost covers your whole stomach as he clutches you to his chest in a bone crushing embrace. But, don't worry, he'll give you space to breathe. But you still can't help get the feeling of him snapping your neck in half like a twig if you do something wrong though he promised he won't lay even a finger on you. This guy drinks his respect women juice and even DROWNS in it. He's a very gentlemanly guy

If you act up, his face will quickly darken, but he'll just hold your wrists to his chest till he gets you to stop wriggling and behaving badly and THEN, he'll smother you in MORE affection because he feels the reason you're acting up was because he wasn't giving you enough attention

A request, don't talk about other people too frequently while you're with him unless you want hear about their 'accidental' deaths the next day on the news channel. He's the type of yandere who DESPISES and HATES it when you speak about other people and when you think of them. Why can't you just focus only on HIM? Those attention seeking rascals don't deserve to even LOOK at you. So. he'll just his connections and his influence as a pro hero and hire some people to kill that person to make it look like an accident 

Will never insult you. He'll just scold you gently like some naughty toddler. Overall, he's not that bad of a yandere to you but trust me, you don't want to see his dark side.....

''My sweet little dumpling, I wonder how we'll look together when we have a family of our own. It'll be splendid won't it?''

[sharpedgedfool]

Here's Blaze! Her name is is Iris Flare, I started giving them just generalised names in English as I started incorporating more than Scottish folklore into these guys so it didn't make sense to have them all named in Gaelic, the Seasons travel constantly all over the world as they come and go with their seasons so I thought I'd be fun to assign different cultures to each of them!

Some more extensive lore under the cut!

Summer is the second most targeted Seasonal Spirit, but unlike Winter who is largely hated, Summer is regarded as a loved season and those challenging her often want to overthrow her place with malicious reasons, she has no gripe about fighting back but can often leave damage in her wake due to the nature of her flames. She does not see as much war as Winter but she fights just as fiercely. Summer is often compared to Winter but is adamant she does not agree with the ill-manner most refer to Winter with. They've never met but she is not disillusioned by the endless praise she receives against criticism against him. She firmly believes that all seasons are just as equal and should not be given favour over another. She hears about Winter mostly from the birds who migrate between their seasons, and she knows that if Winter was so bad then no bird would make the journey there willingly to avoid her own.

In contrast she is close to the other two seasons Spring and Autumn. She is the second youngest of the four, the order being Winter, Spring, Summer then Autumn. Her and Autumn are particularly close as she helped guide him through his first season when he was largely unprepared for it. Her and the other seasons took up the mantle willingly with an expectation on what their duty was. Iris used to be a mortal Royal who stepped up to inherit the responsibility when a rival kingdom set out to slay the previous Season, her family were historically friends of the Fae so she was asked for specifically and knew what she was getting into and did - and still does - take the responsibility very seriously. She doesn't often engage in festivities without request, but enjoys talking with every being of life regardless of status within a court (or outside one even).

Her flames are an indicator of her emotional state, they sometimes change colour and the temperature can range, so mostly she tries to keep calm and dim her flames especially around dry times in the season, her Sari is woven to be flame-resistant and prevents any accidental burns so she doesn't often take it off. Her jewellery are a close replica of the ones she wore as a mortal, it has been eons since so she pays tribute to the memories even as they grow faint. Ironically she mostly enjoys the rain when she can let her flames burn as bright as she likes. She enjoys flying as high as she can, where the only thing that can catch fire is herself, and the chill allows her to push her fire beyond what she could do safely on the ground.

[eldaryasharbinger]

Meet my newcrette, Petronilla!

Name: Petronilla Faraize

Age: 22

Birthday: May 9th

Zodiac Sign: Taurus

MBTI: ENFJ

Height: 4 ft 11 in

Pronouns: She/Her

Ethnicity: Spanish/Finnish

Sexuality: Bisexual

Appearence: Short light pink hair, pink eyes and pale skin. She's covered in freckles and moles from head to toe.

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Relationship with the characters;

• Devon Okere; Boss, coworker, on friendly terms

• Roy Aquino; Coworker, on friendly terms

• Amanda De Lavienne; Coworker, romantic "situationship", good friends

• Thomas Rheault; Coworker, a low-key maybe one-sided interested from Thomas, currently on friendly terms

• Jason Mendal; "Rival", Romantic interest.

• Brune Núñez; Coworker, friends

• Elenda Ueno; Coworker, friends

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More about the Love Interests;

(Contains spoilers for episode 6!)

Jason Mendal

At first, she couldn't really stand the man, thinking that his ways were too much and finding his personality obnoxious, but she couldn't really ignore Jason's looks for long, as she found him extremely attractive. This made her feel ashamed, since after hearing all the bad things about him from her coworkers she still couldn't help but be captivated by him. After their first encounter, Petronilla's heart would always skip a beat whenever he would show up, and she definitely didn't think that they would cross paths this often nor that the other would make advances with her. She was scared of being played again, so she didn't believe him much at first, but after sometime she started giving it more thought and found their little secret message exchange exciting, always looking forward to their next interaction.

After accepting Jason's help offer on her job, she felt miserable. She was surprised that the other would help her to that extent, but she still felt like what she did was wrong, and struggled to accept her coworkers praise on the well done job, since she didn't feel like she did much at all. Still, she couldn't find the courage to come clean and confess.

After getting sick at the carnival and throwing up, she felt incredibly stupid for getting caught by none other than Jason once again, but she was happy that he offered her his napkin to clean herself up. She doesn't really know why she agreed to play his little game in the mirror maze, or maybe she just doesn't want to admit it to herself just yet...

Amanda De Lavienne

When Petronilla first met Amanda, she felt a little intimidated by the way the other girl was presenting herself, at the same time she found her very attractive and didn't think twice before trying to find more ways to interact with her, such as helping her pick up papers from the floor and always choosing her to work together on projects. She liked the other's confidence, but most of all she really liked her when she showed herself more vulnerable, because she thought that she was very sweet under that rich girl facade.

They went clubbing soon after Petronilla started to work at Devenmentiel, and the sight of the other girl dancing with her hair down never left her mind.

While sharing a taxi ride together, Amanda asked her if she's been with other women before, and Petronilla was very honest and quick to answer. The question made her wonder if that meant that she might have a chance with her new pretty coworker, otherwise why would she even care and ask such a thing? Even if things might never "happen", she's sure to have found a new friend at least.

She didn't know how to feel about things once Amanda and Thomas argued over a ride with her, she had promised to go with Thomas and couldn't really understand why Amanda would act so "possessive" all of a sudden. She ended up disappointing the girl after sticking with her promise to Thomas.

Thomas Rheault

Thomas and Petronilla didn't talk much before they went to the carnival and found out that they wanted to go on the same attractions, which made them spend some time together.

They get along surprisingly well, considering that at a first glace, they don't seem to share much in common, Petronilla being more cheerful and clumsy and Thomas being honestly blunt and efficient. She noticed that although he wouldn't say much, he was very attentive of her and wouldn't mind physical touch, such as holding her hand when she felt scared while riding the attractions together.

They went to the fortune teller together and Petronilla felt surprised to hear the fortune teller say that Thomas was in love with someone, that it wouldn't work out and that it would bring Thomas great sadness in the future. Although she knew that what the fortune teller said wasn't necessarily true nor set in stone, she felt curious and intrigued to know who this person might be, and found herself wanting to know more about the guy, but didn't dare ask more as she felt like they were not close enough and feared a possible rejection.

What stuck in her head the most, though, was the fact that Thomas really seemed to want to ride the last attraction with her, to the length to even "argue" with Amanda about it.

She ended up sticking to her promise to go with him, but never made it in the end as she felt sick from eating too much.

He was the one to find her and Jason in the mirror maze and "save" her from the other (better say interrupt...)

In the end, Petronilla doesn't seem to mind Thomas's attention, they're the same age, talking for them seems pretty easy and the boy did make her heart flutter a couple of times...

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More general information;

• She's adopted. Her father, Mr. Faraize, was always honest about it.

• She has type 1 diabetes

• She has mild hearing loss

• She has Stahl's ear condition

• She's on the autistic spectrum

• She's a little bit of a glutton, especially when it comes to sweet food (funny, isn't it?)

• Her "Taki" is actually a white rat named Kenny (Named after Ken from Barbie)

• She's had plenty of relationship, mostly with other women

• Despite her pink, cute appearance, she's a huge fan of horror and thriller cinematography ever since she was a little girl, and is a die-hard fan of zombies

• Although some might consider them stupid and unrealistic, she really enjoys slasher movies

• She loves metal, rock and indie music but also enjoys pop and other upbeat music

• She loves all kinds of fashion, if she hadn't become a party planner, she would've liked to work in the photography and/or in the fashion industry

• She got the scar on her nose as a child from falling from the swings at the playground

• She was homeschooled

• She completed her studies aboard

• She once dyed her hair purple, that's where the faded ombre on her hair comes from

• Her favorite colors are pink, purple, red and black

• She has a large collection of strictly pink and white plushies

• Her main flaw is that she's very insecure, even the smallest mistake will make her doubt her capabilities

• She's know to say many out of pocket things when she feels anxious or embarrassed, which happens pretty often

• Although she seems like the talkative one, she usually enjoys observing others talk to each other and doesn't really interfere in conversations unless she has to. Once she's very comfortable with someone, she'll never shut up and she'll appear more childish.

• She wouldn't mind having kids one day, but she's reluctant due to her many disabilities. Her preferred option would be to adopt, just like she was

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Thanks for reading! ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡

[bitter-me]

Alice in Wonderland

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"Once upon a time...."

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The first Alice walked through the land of Teyvat. Bravely with a sword in her hand, she sliced everything and anything that dared crossed her, leaving chaos in her red bloody path. She was feared and respected by all.

The people will remember her wrath, her cruel smile, her self-centered attitude, and most importantly the sword on her hand.

Who could ever forget someone like that? Someone who sparks fear on others? The very mention of her name brought the high and mighty shaking on their knees. Everyone would always try their absolute best to stay on her good side or else... her sword would be the last thing you'll see. They would praise her, give her offerings and gifts, the lengths of what they would do to stay on her good side...

Through her might and unyielding wrath, she traveled far through her journey. But soon... her wrong doings came right back at her..

She stray too far and lost her way. Giving in to all her sins. Much like the gruesome path that she forged with her hands. Still....

Her life remains a mystery till this very day.

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The second Alice was a tame and tender gentleman.

He helped those in need, he never lost his temper, he never talked bad about others, he's incredibly patient; a kind soul.

Such an enormous contrast with the first Alice.

The people would remember his kindness, his merciful acts, his pacifist route. In return for his deeds they would give him something in return despite how the man seemed uncertain of the gifts, claiming that "there's no need for such things."

What a kind soul... he can't even take a gift without feeling conflicted and guilty...

But of course.... you can't be kind to all.... sometimes kindness and mercy isn't the option...

Madness took ahold of him, shoot him dead to the ground. Blood stained the roses to a bright and somber red. Once loved and enjoyed by all, the man was left for dead

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The third Alice was a lovely girl.

Beautiful, the girl was born into a life so grand. She charmed all the people to her beck and call. How could they resist such a charming young lady? Her smile is as bright as the sun, and her beauty rivals those of a goddess.

Through her charms she created a kingdom, an empire that would rise above them all! This Alice was then crowned turned into a Queen. Ruling all the people there... she lost herself in a crazy dream..

Previously a carefree girl, suddenly has the weight of a whole kingdom on her shoulders.. she must have gone insane by the sudden shift in power and responsibilities. Suddenly she's been made all aware of the things that didn't crossed her mind since the beginning. So afraid of death, the girl was mindless and warped.

The people would remember her beauty and charm.

Once a gorgeous ruler, now she's just an ugly corpse.

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"So... what do you think?"

"...."

"What's with the silence, Alice?"

The man studied the other's expression before letting out a chuckle as he understood what he's thinking at that very moment. It was rather obvious. "Maybe I should start the next one~?"

"The fourth Alice was a pair of siblings who are twins. Straying into Teyvat—" "Shut up."

The man stopped as he glanced back at the man who stopped him with his story. "Oh? You don't want your story to be told? Your name echoes in their tales and songs?"

"You're telling a story of the past... this is not the past.. I—we—"

"Oh ho ho! Don't get ahead of yourself there, Alice~ You've fallen into this wonderland called Teyvat for how long now? 500 years? And now you're saying that? Don't make me laugh!"

"You two are staying here."

"Until we the Heavenly Principle say so."

"Until I say so."

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M. Reader as the Creator

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"Now... how will your story end, Alice~?"

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[s-u-g-a-r-rush1997]

Could you do turbo x reader where reader is a background racer from turbo-Time?

I kind of got a bit carried away with this one just a bit. I enjoyed writing it too much, maybe. It's not angsty, per say, but it's kind of a little sad. I tried to write it with a more romantic pairing, but it kind of came out as an unrequited crush.

Sorry, Turbo's too focused on Roadblasters and is fucking oblivious.

Pairing: Turbo x reader

Rating: safe for work

Warnings: None, though Turbo is kind of an ass in this one What else is new

Turbo-Time background racer reader and Turbo

If the Turbo twins were a pair, then you and Turbo were too, just with opposing dynamics. Or, well, you’d like to think so. You did share his colors, after all – though perhaps that was more a product of a limited color palette than anything.

Where the twins were programmed to be identical, to have the exact same level of skill when it came to racing, you and Turbo had an opposing dynamic. That is to say, while Turbo’s skill in racing was excellent, yours left something to be desired. You were, quite literally, designed to fail. A third place prize isn’t a prize at all if there’s no one worse off – it’s just last place.

Perhaps that’s why he was so attached to you. It seemed counterintuitive at first glance; he was so full of himself, so confident in his popularity and skill, that associating with someone who was designed to have none seemed beneath him. But you weren’t a rival like the twins. Sure, Turbo was programmed to be the best, but during the opening hours of the arcade, his skill was dependent entirely on the player. While an awful player could mean a victory for one of the Twins, it meant nothing for you.

So you were his only companion; by his choice, of course. It clearly had nothing to do with how insufferable people thought he was. How loudly he talked. How he craved attention more than anything.

You hated to admit it – you didn’t want to think of him that way – but you were starting to see why people thought that.

“I don’t understand,” he’d shouted the moment the arcade closed for the night, “I’m the greatest racer this arcade has ever seen. Why would anyone want to play Roadblasters?” The name was spat from his tongue like it was something sour and unpleasant.

You sighed and leaned against the side of his car, tired. You’d heard this rant repeated over and over for the past three days now. Even still, you listened, draping an arm across his back and pulling him close.

You squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “They just want to see the new game, that’s all.”

This jealousy would pass, just as it always did. He was more worked up than you’d ever seen him, but it would all be okay in the end. He’d go back to his normal self. Soon, you’d be back to hanging out at Tappers. Maybe he’d show you more of his drawings he so carefully hid from everyone else. Maybe he’d take you for a ride in his Kart – you hadn’t done that together for a long time now.

“They’ve already seen it!” Turbo argued, arms flailing wildly, shattering the illusion, “it’s been days now. More than long enough! Roadblasters isn’t new anymore. Players should be coming back here by now.”

You catch his wrist, and his attention, wrapping his hand in your own. “The players love you, Turbo.” He laces his fingers with yours. His palm is a little sweaty, but you don’t mind.

He grins wildly, his lips pulled back so far it almost looked more like a grimace. “Of course they do!”

“Of course they do,” you repeat, smiling warmly, “you’re the greatest racer in the whole arcade, you said so yourself.” He preens under the praise. “So, let’s just forget about them, at least for tonight.”

Turbo grits his teeth. His fingers dig into your hand just a bit too firmly to feel comfortable. He sucks his teeth with a hiss. Just when you think he’s going to start arguing again he, somehow, manages to bite his tongue.

“How about one last race?” he finally offers with that same wild, grimace of a smile.

“You’ll just lap me!” you argue. But there’s no bite in your words. You don’t actually mind losing.

Turbo looks at you with this stupid, arrogant smirk – but it’s a genuine smile. It meets his eyes, and they crinkle at the edges. “You’re just a sore loser.”

“Fine,” you scoff, “one last race."

You adjust the straps of your helmet. You rev your engine loudly as the countdown begins. And for good measure you turn to look at him.

“Eat my dust, Turbo!” you call out to him, just before you speed off together. You don’t get much time to look at him, but he was smiling. Brows furrowed, lips pulled back almost as if he was snarling. And he cackles when he passes you. It’s no surprise when he does lap you. Of course he boasts. But you don’t mind. He’s happy. He’s forgotten Roadblasters.

And maybe come morning, when the arcade opens and players come flooding in, his rivalry would stay forgotten.