#i knew something was up about his teacher

[sc0tters]

Lessons in Bed | Nico Hischier & Luke Hughes

summary: when luke tells you his ex left him for his skills in bed, it's only right that you and your boyfriend give him a lesson he'd never forget

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, threesome, swearing, unprotected sex, oral (f and m receiving!)

word count: 6.19k

authors note: this is the first time I have written a sub pairing, not entirely sure how i feel about it but it is definetly something that needs improvement so sorry about that... nevertheless this is a threesome that had no help on it and the last time we did that was like our first threesome. dom nico in this was something i could get used to 🤭

Parties at your place always seemed to go off a hit. 

Everyone loved the atmosphere of the apartment as they spoke or drank. The playlist you created was also always just what the environment needed to be perfect. Which is why you were so surprised to see him missing from the group. 

Luke Hughes had been someone you knew from the moment he had moved to New Jersey. Being Nico’s girlfriend meant that you knew all of the guys and oftentimes you were helping them settle in. Which was why you were so surprised when Luke was missing, this had always been more of his scene especially after college. 

Nico could see that your mind looked as if it was anywhere else “you okay schatz?” He called out over the music, letting his mouth hover close to your ear. 

You nodded as you sent him a smile “just looking for Luke.” You responded in the same tone as he took the chance to look “think he is in the kitchen?” Nico remembered seeing him in there when he got you a new drink. 

Nico’s hand went up to hold yours “you want me to come with?” His question made you smile “you don’t have to Neeks.” You shook your head before you planted a kiss on his cheek. 

Of course that meant he was coming with you, interlacing your hand with his before he made his way to the kitchen, always careful to not lose you in the crowd. Just like the captain had predicted, Luke stood in the kitchen staring at his drink. 

It made your lips form a pout “Lukey what are you doing in here?” His head shot up as he placed his phone in his pocket “just thinking.” The words were a blatant lie, clearly highlighted by the way his eyes avoided both you and Nico. 

You dropped Nico’s hand “y’know you can talk to either of us about anything.” Your voice was sweet while you made your way over to the youngest Hughes boy “it’s embarrassing.” Luke shook his head watching you both come further into the kitchen. 

Nico had to admit that he always thought Luke had some kind of crush on you, big or small, he knew it was there “you know we won’t judge you.” He added, crossing his arms “my girlfriend broke up with me.” His words made a soft laugh escape from your lips. 

You placed your hand on his shoulder “baby that’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you shook your head letting your lips form a frown “she did it because I wasn’t good in.” Luke let his head dip back to where your bedrooms were. 

It took Nico much longer to figure out what the boy was saying than you “that’s completely normal!” You scoffed knowing that you had a good reason for not liking her “it is?” Luke had this sad look on his face that made you curse his now ex for hurting him like this. 

Nico watched you run your fingers through the Americans hair “yeah like when we first started dating Nico wasn’t the best.” Nico knew all about the ways he needed to improve in the bedroom as you were his first serious relationship, so the lessons from hook ups were going to do him no good “he wasn’t?” Luke couldn’t believe that about his captain, the man who was usually so calm and collected who wore your scratches and hickies like a badge of honour was once bad in bed? 

Nico nodded, pushing his hair out of his face “but my girl turned out to be a damn good teacher and now I know all her spots.” Nico smirked as he leaned against the kitchen counter “you thinking what I’m thinking?” You asked Nico wanting to get his permission to offer it to the younger boy first.

The two of you had agreed that a threesome was something neither one of you was totally against, and in fact it was pretty high on both of your wish lists “Hughesy you promise you can keep this a secret f’me?” Your voice was sickly sweet in his ear as he nodded “promise.” Nico had to smirk at the way the boy was so desperate for your immediate praise. 

It made you smile that he was so responsive “how would you like us to show you how it’s done?” Your offer made him squirm “want to know what it feels like to fuck a girl properly?” Luke couldn’t help it when a moan escaped from his lips. 

You looked down to see that a bulge had formed in his jeans “I’m sorry.” He went to apologise but you and Nico were having none of that “Lukey it is natural.” You shook your head not worrying about it. 

That seemed to calm him down “can you teach me?” He didn’t know who he was really asking as you both nodded “when the party is over why don’t you stay and we can start?” Nico couldn’t help but laugh seeing how the Hughes boy’s face dropped at your words. 

Having to wait for at least an hour seemed like torture to him “Luke trust me.” Nico placed his hand on the boys shoulder “with the way my girl moans you’re gonna want us three to be the only ones here.” The captain explained, not missing how your cheeks turned red hearing his words. 

Luke swore he his heart pounded in his ears as he waited for the party to finish “you know where Luke is?” Jack asked looking down at his phone seeing that the boy had not responded to any of his messages “I am pretty sure he left with some girl.” Nico lied wrapping his arm around your waist. 

He looked to you to back him up “yeah Jack, I am so sorry he told me to tell you but I forgot.” The way you made it so convincing should have made Nico feel bad but it did anything but that “no worries.” Jack sighed pushing his phone back into his pocket. 

The Center sent you both a smile “have a good night.” You and Nico waved him off, feeling like you couldn’t get rid of him quickly enough “you sure you want to do this neeks?” You asked letting the door shut behind you. 

Your question made your boyfriend freeze “I do but only if it is something you’re comfortable with.” He looked to you for reassurance, not wanting to push you into something you didn’t want “I do Nico.” You nodded, pushing onto your tippy toes to kiss him. 

It made Nico smile “and besides watching you teach someone all I’ve taught you is gonna be like really hot.” Your words made him laugh “is that what you’re thinking about tonight?” He asked as your cheeks turned a shade of pink, meaning he was right. 

The captain pulled you into another kiss, wanting a moment just between the two of you before Luke got involved again “behave mister.” You warned feeling Nico’s hand squeeze your ass. 

It made him laugh as he raised his hands in surrender “apologises madam.” Nico teased watching you look for Luke “Luke baby!” You called out watching him walk out of the bathroom. 

His hands were in his hoodie pocket “hi.” His voice was quiet “you ready for this?” You asked him walking up to the boy. 

He didn’t want to admit it but god did you smell amazing “because if you want to leave at any time just say the words and we will end it.” You wanted Luke to know that even if you and Nico were teaching him, he had just as much power as the two of you did. 

Luke nodded “don’t want to go.” His words made you smile “now you said she didn’t like how you were in the bedroom?” You wanted to know where he needed your help, and if it was everywhere then you and Nico were happy to do that. 

The boy looked nervous “this is a safe space.” Nico reiterated the fact that you guys could all trust each other and that the events of the night would not be shared “she didn’t like anything.” Those words made your heart break for him. 

And it was clear that he could see that “can we like not talk about it.” He scratched the back of his neck not wanting sympathy from you as he was just going to feel embarrassed “kiss me.” Luke felt his eyes go wide at your words “c’mon Luke we have to start somewhere.” He nodded dropping his head down as he hit your nose with his. 

It caused a hiss to leave your lips as your eyes screwed shut, if you weren’t meant to be helping him Nico would have laughed “Luke bud you’re going about it all wrong.” Nico clicked his tongue hooking his finger into your jeans belt loop to pull you back to him “first you got to have some direction.” The captain spoke in a duh tone, placing his hands on your cheeks. 

His eyes were always such a warm place to you “and then you can look where you’re going before you get there.” He dropped his head to the point where his lips hovered over yours “some girls love it when you look between their eyes and their lips for a second.” Nico smirked seeing your smile as he was talking about you. 

You nodded “and then you can show her you’re in charge but don’t take her teeth out.” Your words were quiet as Nico kissed you. His tongue dragged across your lower lip, pulling you into a trance that made you whimper when he pulled away. 

It stroked his ego as he turned back to Luke “and don’t forget that you can move your hands around her body as you’re making out.” With that suggestion Nico stepped away, motioning to Luke to step into his place “just relax okay.” You were too good to Nico, Luke swore to himself. 

His hands rested right where Nico’s were before “hi.” He whispered looking at how beautiful you looked this close up. Luke’s lips were rougher than Nico’s as his tongue found its way into your mouth. 

It was a clear improvement as the boy also breathed from his nostrils while he let one hand travel to your ass and the other to your tits. He gave them a squeeze that made you moan, allowing him to deepen the kiss. 

Nico almost had to admit that he felt a little jealous seeing you all like that with someone else, he knew your body was responsive so he should have known it would end like this. As you pulled away from Luke his teeth softly tugged at your lower lip “think Lukey boy is a fast learner.” Nico teased the boy, seeing how your eyes were wide staring at the boy. 

Luke saw your frazzled state “should we move you to the bedroom?” Nico asked placing his hand in the back of your neck before he kissed you again. The American had to admit that watching how your boyfriend knew how to elicit the right reaction out of you, was hot. 

You smiled seeing Luke again “yeah.” You nodded taking his hand in yours while Nico lead the way. The room was one Luke had never seen before, always feeling like your bedroom was far too private for him to impose on “you like the place?” You asked running your finger along his jawline. 

Luke nodded “y-yeah.” His breath caught in his throat seeing the mischievous look on your face “so how do you finger a girl?” Nico’s question made you laugh. 

He rolled his eyes “I’m serious schatz we don’t even know if he knows where your clit or where your erogenous zones are.” Luke’s eyebrows furrowed proving that Nico had some ground to be right “like with her here her most sensitive zones are behind her ears.” Nico pressed a kiss against the back of your ear before he softly sucked on your earlobe making you moan. 

The captain smirked before he pulled away, making sure that Luke was still watching “her scalp.” His fingers ran through your hair making you squirm in the process “god wait until you get to play with these.” Nico couldn’t help but grunt when he gave your boobs a squeeze. 

Luke watched on in awe “and when I’m eating her out I’ll kiss the back of her knees and all down her thighs making sure she’s ready.” Luke nodded watching you look at Nico “Neeks think we should show him now.” Your words came with you pulling your top off. 

Your red bra complimented your skin “even though you are focusing on my cunt doesn’t mean that you can’t acknowledge my top half too.” You explained as you begin to kiss Luke again, but this time your lips didn’t stay on his for long, wanting to find his own sensitive zones. 

Nico unbuttoned your jeans as you sucked at Luke’s neck, drawing a moan from his lips “think we found it.” You licked your lips, stepping out of your jeans to reveal a matching set of underwear to the bra “fuck.” Luke whimpered letting his eyes screw shut. 

It made you let out a whine “Lukey baby I want you to feel me okay?” You asked taking his hand when he nodded “you feeling how wet I am through these?” You placed his hand against the wet patch on your panties. 

His knees almost buckled at the feeling when his eyes shot open “schatz stop teasing him and let him have a taste.” Nico’s words made you pout. But still you listened to your boyfriend and lay on the bed for both boys to see “why don’t you take her bra off?” Nico motioned to Luke to join you on the bed. 

It made the boy look to you like he was asking for your permission “I don’t bite.” You giggled seeing Nico raise his eyebrows, oh you definitely do. Luke brought his hand up behind you and unsnapped the bra with ease catching both you and Nico by surprise “did I do something wrong?” Luke grew nervous as he looked between the two of you. 

You shook your head, letting the bra fall to the bed “not many guys can do that with such ease.” You confessed going to kiss him again “schatz if you keep on kissing him he isn’t going to learn anything.” Nico teased you as he sat on the bench of your vanity watching the scenario unfold in front of him. 

Luke kissed at your shoulder “thought I was just being used to teach him.” You shot back sending him an amused grin as your fingers tugged at Luke’s curls “don’t start something you aren’t ready to keep up.” Nico warned getting up as he wasn’t going to let you be a brat. 

You smirked watching him look at Luke “c’mere Hughes she wants her pussy fucked.” The words made you press your legs together as Nico forced them open again “get her panties off.” Nico ordered making Luke nod. 

He followed the orders, slotting in between your legs “can you lift?” Luke asked making you push your thighs into the air so that he could take your panties off “shit.” The boy let out a low whistle finally pulling them off of your feet. 

Nico smirked at the sight that he loved so much “you want to show us what you normally do?” The captain sat on your side of the bed. Luke got himself comfortable between your legs while he went to spit on his fingers “why don’t you get her to do that?”Nico motioned to you as it always made you horny. 

Luke looked to you as you leaned forward, wrapping your lips around his fingers “fuck.” The Hughes boy let out a grunt feeling your tongue swirl around his digits “now start out easy with two.” Luke watched how your eyes screwed shut feeling his fingers thrust into your cunt. 

Your cunt stretched against his fingers “you want to get her ready so do this.” Nico did this scissoring motion with his fingers when he sat behind you. Your back rested against his chest “shit.” You moaned showing Luke that he was doing the right thing. 

You let your hips meet his thrusts “play with her clit.” Nico brushed your hair out of your face before he kissed at your neck. 

His eyes watched the Hughes boy totally miss your clit “you see this?” Nico asked taking his thumb as he rubbed against your sensitive bud, your head pressed against his shoulder as your boyfriend hit the right spot “if you’re just fingering her you want to do it like this.” Nico kissed your ear heading your breathing grow heavy. 

Your skin grew warm seeing two boys play with your cunt “but if you’re fucking her.” You watched Nico move his focus to the pads of his fingers on your clit which more pace “wanna try?” Your chest heaved using all of your energy to look at Luke. 

He nodded using his thumb like the older boy had “ain’t he a good listener?” Nico cooed watching how your hands tried to reach for your breasts, desperate to play with your sensitive peaks “Lukey think it’s time you use something different to make her feel good.” Nico’s suggestion came as he held your hands, stopping you from playing with your breasts. 

Luke watched the captain as he knew the suggestion came with some logic as you started to appear as if you were close. So Luke listened he retracted his fingers from your cunt watching in awe as he saw how your cunt glistened. 

You whimpered at the loss of contact “schatz don’t be a brat or else you won’t cum tonight.” The younger boy was surprised that someone could have the power over someone else, to have the ability to withhold a human reaction. 

Nico pulled away from behind you, setting you back flat on the bed “I love you.” He pressed his lips against your shoulder before he turned his attention to Luke “you gotta go gentle first.” His voice soothed you. 

You ran your fingers up your skin “please Lukey.” You begged, wishing that the boy would hurry up “baby be patience for him.” Nico clicked his tongue reminding you that tonight was meant to be for you to teach Luke, tomorrow Nico could have you screaming until your throat felt raw if you wanted it. 

Luke took this deep breath as if it was going to sooth his nerves. His head hovered over your cunt “uh uh Luke.” Nico shook his head, stopping the boy in the process “having sex isn’t just about fucking her pussy remember?” The captain ran his fingers along the inside of your thighs making you squirm. 

The Hughes boy nodded remembering about what you told him in the living room “there we go.” Nico smiled watching Luke kiss at the inside of your thighs. 

For someone who didn’t know what he was doing, he was methodical. Luke seemed to kiss you in the way that he divided his attention equally between your thighs, always hovering just close enough to your cunt that you swore he was finally going to start, but he never did. His eyes studied yours as he finally stopped “please Luke.” You begged feeling him place an open mouthed kiss on your cunt. 

It made you grip at the sheet beneath you “occasionally focus on fucking her with your tongue too.” The suggestion was ignored by the boy as he brought his fingers that he had used to now focus on your weeping hole “fuck baby.” You moaned looking at Nico who couldn’t help but smile. 

Luke found himself settling into a perfect rhythm, occasionally looking back up at you “please Lukey.” You begged wanting more as he inserted another finger into your cunt “this greedy slut likes it when you do this.” Nico showed the boy how to turn his fingers into this come hither motion to get deeper into your cunt. 

The Hughes boy sent him what was only a glance before he listened, turning his attention to you in order to ensure it was working. His fingers grazed your g-spot, causing your body to jolt “there we go Lukey boy.” Nico praised the boy making Luke moan. 

Luke almost slotted into the motions, bringing his free hand up to cup your breast. His fingers rolled your nipple between them, tugging at the peak “don’t stop.” You shook your head feeling your thighs begin to shake “she’s gonna finish and you want that right?” Nico pushed Luke with the encouragement that it worked like a wildfire. 

His lips sucked at your clit, swirling his tongue around the bud “fuck yeah.” Luke spoke against your cunt sending shivers through your body “c’mon schatz let him see what it’s like to have a pretty girl cum on your tongue.” Nico cooed drawing circles on your shoulder with his thumb. 

Luke didn’t relent, letting your moans bounce off of the walls making him feel like a moth to a flame “shit Lukey please don’t stop.” Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as your body shook “right there a-a-ahhh.” Your eyes screwed shut when your cunt clenched around his fingers while your body spasmed. 

White specks cast over the black that your eyelids brought upon you “oh god oh god!” You chanted as Luke helped you ride through your orgasm. But then it turned into him just being hungry, as he continued to lap at your release “no Lukey.” You tugged at his hair, wanting to pull him off of you. 

He let you kiss him, tasting your sweet release on his tongue made you feel lightheaded bringing him back onto you as you lay on the bed felling his boner that his shorts did little to hide, graze against your cunt “shit.” You gasped feeling your eyes widen. 

Luke laughed against your shoulder, echoing your same emotions “doll why don’t you thank him for treating ya?” Nico’s words made you nod. You rolled out from under the boy as you patted the bed for him “sit.” You ordered him. 

The boy obliged seeing the hunger in your eyes “you gonna let me taste ya?” You asked running your hand over the material of his shorts “please.” Luke whimpered, feeling his cock push to your hand. 

Nico remembered what it was like to be in that position because you had this power to turn him into putty, and that’s what caused him to raise a smack to your ass “ah!” You whimpered almost jumping out of your skin at the sensation “don’t be mean and tease him schatz.” The captain clicked his tongue sending you an unimpressed look. 

It made you frown turning to him with a pout “fine.” You huffed reaching for the waistband of Luke’s shorts “gonna lift up for me pretty boy?” You asked causing him to push his hips up into the air, allowing you to tug at his shorts bringing them down with his boxers. 

His cock ached for some attention, for you “god.” He moaned watching you run your thumb over the swollen head. The precum oozed out of it working as some kind of shitty variation of lube. You let your eyes lock onto his as you pooled your saliva in your mouth before you let it drop into his cock. 

Luke swore he was dreaming as he watched you do these little kitten licks against his cock. Nico stood behind you dropping his pants as he pumped his cock once and then a second time “you gonna let him fuck your mouth while I fuck your cunt maus?” You moaned at the thought when you nodded. 

Nico dragged the head of his cock along your slit wanting to not let his teammate get all of the fun that you could give “shit schatz.” Nico moaned feeling your cunt hug his cock, your walls stretching to accommodate him. 

As a moan went to escape from your lips you let your lips wrap around Luke’s cock. The warmth your mouth provided made Luke almost fall forward “yeah dude she sucks dick like a slut.” Nico laughed watching your hand massage Luke’s balls. 

Your cunt squelched as your previous orgasm was more than enough in terms of lube for Nico’s cock to throb with some thrusts “but that is what you love, huh?” Nico taunted you, as the feeling of your cunt clenching around him was not something that he failed to miss. Your words of agreement were muffled, but when your head bobbed with Lukes’s cock hitting your throat, it was clear what you were thinking “cap if she was mine I wouldn’t share.” Luke almost didn’t realise the line he walked on, he was dangerously close to pissing Nico off if he continued saying shit like this then Nico was more than likely going to take it out on your cunt. 

And you could already feel him doing it; his fingers pinched at your thighs “part of having a girl.” Nico grumbled, watching Luke grab your hair into a makeshift ponytail “is knowing when to listen.” Nico would never have dreamed of offering this to Luke, but you did, and Nico couldn’t say no to you.

You moaned wanting to let out a giggle if it had been a more appropriate time “glad you did.” Luke confessed, watching you look up at him through your now ruined mascara “good teachers.” He felt your throat gag around his cock making him grunt. The moment of silence made Nico smirk, finally having the boy shut up was the real stroke to his ego.

Luke squirmed beneath your touch, feeling your cheeks hollow out with your tongue swirling around the underside of his cock.

Nico thrust into you with such pace that the sound of your skin slapping against his echoed throughout the apartment, you were sure of it “fuck Neeks.” You let your lips pop from Lukes cock, quickly replacing your mouth with your hand “you wanna cum sweet girl?” He didn’t even need to wait for you to answer before he moved his hand to rub against your clit “please.” You begged feeling your legs begin to shake as Nico had to also keep you from collapsing.

You continued to focus on fucking the younger boys cock in your hand “thrust your hips baby.” You cooed sending Luke a nod “I-i can’t.” Luke shook his head, not sure if he had the energy to complete the task. 

Nico hissed feeling you clench around his cock, almost making him forget how to breathe “when you get told to do something Luke, you do it no?” Nico used his captains tone that made you rest your head on Luke’s thigh “schatz look at him when he finally behaves.” He made you pull your head off of Luke’s thigh as his fingers tugged at your hair.

Luke watched your eyes open as he saw how Nico held you up with his hands in your hand. He felt overcome by pleasure, just needed that little bit more as he begun to push his hips into your hand. 

Nico nodded with a grunt as his tongue ran across his teeth “ain’t he a good boy schatz.” You let out this harsh whimper “such a good boy.” Your coos sent Luke over the edge causing sticky ropes of his release to shoot into your hand. 

Tears formed in his waterline “please.” Luke shook his head, not sure that he could take much more, thinking that he was already feeling hard again “you want her to cum?” Nico quizzed the boy who nodded. 

Luke could see the desperation on your face “tell her that.” The captain ordered his teammate “fuck doll.” Luke coughed feeling your hand finally slow on his cock. 

The Hughes boy had to think about his words “wanna see you make a mess okay?” Your tits throbbed as your cunt clenched hearing those words “you think that you can do that f’me?” Luke used his fingers to roll your nipples between them, causing your moans to sound like music in your ears.

Nico didn’t know how much longer he could take “c’mon liebling, show him how pretty you look when you cum on a cock.” Those words sent you over the edge 

Your eyes screwed shut as your head dropped when Nico let your hair go “fucking hell.” As you came around his cock it caused his own orgasm to come on “just like that.” Nico bit down on his lower lip as his head fell back, slowing his thrusts down before he pulled his cock out. 

The captain rubbed his thumb in these soft circles against the hip, watching how his release oozed out of your cunt. Trickling down your slit to your clit “you got one more in ya?” It was the first coherent sentences that you could form in a while “me?” Luke asked blinking heavily. 

Nico let out a snort as he turned your head so he could kiss you “I sure as shit know she wasn’t talking to me.” Nico pointed out, knowing that he could last for at least three rounds “schatz show him how good this cunt feels.” The captain stared at Luke as he cupped your pussy. 

Luke felt his mouth water at the sight of you letting out another moan “I don’t think I can fuck you.” The boy shook his head feeling like his legs were jelly “who said I couldn’t ride ya?” You tapped his legs motioning to him to set his legs straight. 

His eyes shut as the image became too strong in his mind “you can say no Lukey.” You reminded him of his rights as you sat on your heels in front of him “no I want to.” He was quick to shake his head, sending you a smile. 

You nodded, watching him pull you onto his lap. His legs pushed you up “you sure?” Nico had to smile from the corner of your bed where he sat, hearing how you were still making sure that he was comfortable “yeah I am.” Luke took the chance to kiss you. 

His tongue past your lips making you mewl at the contact. Your hand found its way between the two of you “off.” You tugged at his hoodie now wanting him naked too. 

Luke listened, letting your hands do the work as you brought it up to his chest before you pulled away, “just taking it off.” You smirked hearing him whimper at the loss of contact. 

His cheeks turned red, feeling grateful that his hoodie being pulled off of his head did a lot to hide the initial warmth that spread to his cheeks “such a pretty boy.” You cooed letting a grin form on your lips as you drank in the sight of his now messy curls. 

Your hand went back down between the two of you so you could grab his cock, your hands were delicate, softly palming him “please.” Luke rested his head against your headboard, feeling you lazily drive the head of his cock across your slit. Nico began to palm at himself, enjoying the view from behind “fuck him schatzi.” Nico clicked his tongue, growing irritated at the teasing.

You sank onto his cock letting your nails tense around his shoulders, he wasn’t as thick as Nico but Luke’s cock made your cunt hug his walls differently “move please.” Luke softened his grip around your hips “such a polite boy.” You nodded, slowly moving your hips seeing his eyes look back at you. 

He studied your face, noticing every little beauty spot and imperfection that made you, well, you. It made him smile when he realised that your eyes had been locked on his “you feel yourself?” You asked bringing his hand onto your lower stomach and making him press his into your skin. 

Luke was more impressed that he could get that deep than anything else “shit you’re perfect.” The compliment made Nico nod, agreeing that the boy was indeed not stupid “I am gonna fuck you now okay?” You asked the boy, bringing your legs to either side of him so that you could properly work yourself on his cock, knowing that you were not going to last for long. 

And judging by how he watched you like a cat who found a warm spot on a winter day, Luke was excited for you to continue. Your one hand rested on his thigh behind you as the other gripped at his shoulder while you brought your cunt up and down his cock. Careful to never fully pull off of him before you slammed back down feeling his crotch graze against your clit. 

The movement was steady making Nico feel a little jealous that it wasn’t him beneath you “fuck you feel so good.” You moaned not sure of how much longer you could last. 

His cock throbbed against your cunts gummy walls, hearing the sound of your skin hitting his causing his forehead to turn slick with sweat. His eyes watched your breasts bounce with every thrust you had on his cock. 

Luke was desperate to feel more of you “kissy?” He whined making you smile. You brought your hand up the side of his neck to his curls “so sweet when you talk so nice.” You praised him as you tugged at his hair. 

The feeling made the boy moan, pursing his lips to kiss you “such a good boy.” You cooed as you finally gave him what he wanted. 

Your lips were soft against his, making him grunt while he sucked at your lower lip “shit schatzi keep on doing you.” Nico felt his eyes screw shut as his cock oozed his sticky release in his hand “you see how much Neeks likes this?” You pulled away from the boy allowing him to see your swollen lips. 

Luke nodded feeling close to tears as his brain was on fire “like it too.” Luke looked down to see how your pussy looked fucking his cock. 

Your release that had mixed with Nico’s creamed around his cock “play with those tits.” Nico ordered making you nod as it was what you were desperate to feel.

His tongue swirled around you nipple while he fondled the other tit “fuck baby you wanna cum inside?” You were on the pill and at that moment not thinking about STDs “god yes.” Luke moaned against your boob causing the vibrations against your skin to go straight to your core. 

Your fingers strummed against your clit like you were playing the guitar, not sure if you were still helping him or if you were now using him for your orgasm “fuck doll right there.” Luke let out a grunt feeling your thrusts grow irregular making your body thrash around on him. 

His warm release painted the walls of your cunt, bringing your own orgasm on. You chanted his name from your lips, making it sound angelic as your cunt clenched around him, gushing on his cock. Your head fell forward when he let your boob go, allowing you to rest your head against his shoulder. A whimper escaped your lips when you accidentally moved, feeling him still inside of you “you okay?” Lukes voice was soft, watching you use what energy you had to pick yourself off of his cock before you collapsed next to him. 

This was always Nico’s favourite part of the night, seeing you almost too fucked to speak, “I’ll get your bath ready.” Nico chuckled as he got up, squeezing your ankle “her bath?” Luke looked between you both as he was back to being confused. 

Nico rolled his eyes, starting to realise why the boy was having girl issues “now it’s time for your next lesson.” Nico motioned to Luke to follow him as Nico picked you up to bring you to go pee “aftercare and the importance of it.” Nico’s voice soothed you, it made your eyelids feel heavy when you rested your head against your boyfriend’s chest while Luke shut the door behind the three of you. 

Clearly, their night wasn’t over, but it wasn’t where the story ended either.

Luke felt his head hit the wall behind him “s-s-shit!” He moaned feeling his eyes screwed shut as he squeezed his hand around his cock continuing to thrust into his palm at a strong pace edging his orgasm. 

Jack walked into the apartment, still surprised that Luke didn’t come with him to the morning skate as he wasn’t the usual Hughes brother to skip it “fuck oh don’t stop y/n!” The moan came from Luke’s lips as he reached his high making Jack freeze where he stood by the door.

Did his younger brother have a crush on his captain’s soon-to-be fiancée?

[darlingsblackbook]

Between the Lines

Gojo Satoru x Awkward!Reader

Summary : As the new teacher’s assistant at Jujutsu High, Y/N is used to being invisible—quiet, awkward, always on the outside looking in. She tells herself she prefers it that way, but when Gojo Satoru, the school’s most infuriatingly nosy teacher, starts noticing the cracks in her carefully built walls, she finds it harder to hide. He’s loud, he’s persistent, and worst of all… he might just see right through her.

Warnings : Shy!Reader, Awkward!Reader, Introvert!Reader, Lonely!Reader

♡♡♡

I had never been good at introductions.

Or first impressions. Or second impressions.

Or… people in general.

So when the principal of Jujutsu High offered me a job as a teaching assistant, I accepted before I could talk myself out of it. It was logical—stable work, a chance to put my skills to use—but now, standing in front of the classroom door, I was starting to question every decision that led me here.

The job itself wasn’t the problem. It was the social part. The talking. The being around others.

The inevitable awkwardness.

Here I am, standing awkwardly outside the door of Gojo Satoru’s classroom, a bundle of nerves in my stomach.

I have never met him before. Only heard of him in passing. The strongest sorcerer alive. An eccentric man, a little ridiculous but undeniably powerful. I have no idea what to expect, and that made me even more anxious.

I exhaled sharply and knocked before I could hesitate any longer.

“Come iiinnn~”

The voice was playful, stretching the words like taffy. I hesitated for a second before pushing the door open.

The room was not empty. Three students sat at their desks, heads turning as I entered. One of them—a boy with pink hair and a bright, open grin—tilted his head curiously. Another, dark-haired with sharp features, barely reacted. The last, a girl with fiery eyes, scrutinized me with clear interest.

And then, there was him.

Gojo Satoru.

He was taller than I expected, his dark blue uniform neat but his posture anything but. White hair, messy but somehow intentional and a blindfold shielding his eyes. He was the kind of person who took up space without any effort, like the air itself made room for him.

“Oh? A new face.” A grin stretched across his face. "And who might you be?"

I swallowed and tightened my grip on my bag. “Um. I’m Y/N. The principal assigned me as your new teaching assistant.”

For a moment, there was a silence. Then, Gojo’s smile widened. “Ohhh, so you’re the poor soul stuck with me?”

I- I was not so sure how to respond to that.

“I… guess?”

The pink-haired boy snickered. “Welcome to the chaos, sensei.”

Gojo clapped his hands. “Right! Introductions. These little troublemakers are my students. That’s Itadori Yuji—”

“Yo!”

“—Fushiguro Megumi—”

A silent nod.

“—and Kugisaki Nobara.”

The girl flipped her hair. “Good luck surviving Gojo-sensei.”

I gave a small, uncertain nod with an unsure smile. “Thanks…?”

Gojo tilted his head. “So, Y/N! Tell us about yourself.”

Oh no.

Not this question. Anything but this question.

My mind blanked immediately.

I was supposed to say something here. Something normal. Something that would make me seem approachable. But nothing came.

“There’s not much to say,” I finally muttered.

Gojo leaned forward on his desk, grinning. “Come on, there’s gotta be something. A hobby? Fun fact? Favorite food? Deepest, darkest secret?”

I swallowed. I hated questions like this. I never knew how to answer.

My hands curled around the strap of my bag. “I..I mean I like...reading, I don’t know.”

For a second, silence. A horrible, suffocating pause.

Then—

Gojo sighed dramatically. “A mystery woman, huh? Fine, fine, we’ll learn your secrets eventually.”

Something in me tensed at that idea.

But Gojo spared me and did not press. He just stretched lazily and turned back to his students.

I exhaled, shoulders loosening.

That could have gone a lot worse.

°•♡•°

The first few days passed in a blur.

I kept to my work, avoiding unnecessary interactions. The job itself was easy—assisting with lessons, helping with training schedules, sorting paperwork. It was everything outside of that that I struggled with.

Small talk. Social cues. Knowing when to speak and when to stay silent.

I avoided the break room, ate lunch alone, kept my head down. It wasn’t new—I had always been like this. And I had always told myself I didn’t mind.

But Gojo made it difficult to go unnoticed.

He was everywhere. Loud, teasing, impossible to ignore. He had a habit of appearing at the worst moments—leaning over my desk when I was trying to work, suddenly materializing beside me when I was lost in thought.

And he noticed things.

A lot of things.

“Hey,” he said one afternoon. “Do you always stand like that?”

I blinked up at him. “Like what?”

He waved a hand vaguely. “All stiff. Like you’re bracing for impact.”

I immediately stiffened more. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Gojo hummed. “You’re always tense. And quiet. Do I scare you?”

I frowned, caught off guard. “What? No.” I laughed awkwardly.

He gasped, hand over his chest. “So you just don’t like me?”

“That’s not—” I stopped, exhaling. “I just… I don’t talk much.”

Gojo tilted his head, as if considering something.

For a second, I thought he might press further. Ask questions I didn’t know how to answer.

But then he just grinned. “Don’t worry. You’ll warm up to me eventually.”

I wasn’t so sure about that.

But later, when I caught him watching me with something thoughtful behind his blindfold, I realized—

He wasn’t sure about me either.

°•♡•°

Even more days passed, blending into each other like ink bleeding into paper.

I kept my head down, did my work, and kept to myself. It was easy, really. No one expected much from me beyond my job. The students were polite, Gojo was… Gojo, and the rest of the staff had their own responsibilities. I did what was required, answered when spoken to, and let conversations pass over me like waves washing over a stone.

And yet…

Something gnawed at me.

I noticed things. I always had.

Like the way Itadori and Kugisaki bickered over lunch, their insults sharp but affectionate. The way Fushiguro sighed, exasperated but always there, always included. The way they trained together, argued together, shared jokes that only made sense to them.

They belonged.

Even the staff, as different as they were, had their own connections. Yaga’s gruff lectures, Shoko’s dry humor, Gojo’s infuriating yet oddly natural way of slipping into conversations like he had always been part of them.

Everywhere I looked, people had someone.

I didn’t even have a past friendship to reminisce about. No old friend I had lost touch with. No warm memories of sleepovers, of whispered secrets at midnight, of laughing so hard my stomach hurt.

I had nothing.

It wasn’t that I had never wanted friends. I had wanted them desperately. But there had always been something wrong with me—something that made people drift away before they ever truly got close.

Maybe I was too quiet.

Maybe I was too awkward.

Maybe I was just… forgettable.

Even now, at 22, I felt like I had already wasted my entire life away.

Everyone else had stories. Experiences. Things they could look back on with fondness or even regret.

I had empty days and silence.

I never checked my phone much, but sometimes, I left it untouched for hours just to pretend—just to imagine, for a second, that when I finally looked at it, I would see something.

A message.

A missed call.

A notification that was not just a useless app reminder.

But there was never anything.

The ache in my chest was familiar by now, dull but relentless.

I felt like I was missing something vital, something everyone else had but I simply… didn’t.

It was stupid.

I had a job. A roof over my head. A place in the world, even if it felt like I was just existing rather than living.

But still—

Still.

I wanted someone.

Someone to talk to about nothing and everything.

Someone to laugh with.

Someone who would see my name pop up on their phone and be excited to hear from me.

But I didn’t know how to reach out.

Didn’t know how to start.

Didn’t know if it was even possible for someone like me.

If Gojo noticed anything, he didn’t show it.

Not at first.

He still teased, still popped up at the most unexpected moments, still acted like the world was his playground.

But then, I started catching him watching me.

Just little moments, subtle shifts.

His head tilting ever so slightly whenever I hesitated before answering a question.

His focus lingering when I thought no one was paying attention.

At first, I just chalked it up to paranoia. But it kept happening.

The worst part was, Gojo wasn’t the type to care without reason. If he was noticing me, if he was watching me, it meant something had tipped him off.

That terrified me.

Because if he figured it out—if he somehow pieced together how hollow my life really was—I wasn’t sure I could handle that kind of scrutiny.

So I tried harder.

Tried to look normal.

Tried to pretend that I wasn’t weighed down by something invisible, something I didn’t have the words for.

But Gojo was sharp in a way most people didn’t realize.

And even if I could fool everyone else,

I couldn’t fool him.

The days continued to pass, each one blending into the next. I had fallen into a routine, and while there was a sense of comfort in that, there was also something else—something heavier, something I tried not to think about too much.

I wasn’t unhappy, exactly. I had a job, I had a purpose, and I wasn’t struggling. But the silence of my own life had become deafening.

At Jujutsu High, I was surrounded by people, but I had never felt more alone.

It was during lunch that I felt it the most.

I always sat outside, away from the busy chatter of the cafeteria, where students and staff alike gathered in their little groups.

It wasn’t like anyone had told me to sit alone. I had just… done it.

It was easier that way.

Or at least, that was what I told myself.

I had taken to watching the students from afar. Not in an obvious way, but just enough to see the ease of their friendships. The way Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi existed in a way that I had never known myself.

“Oi, Megumi, say ‘ahhh’—”

“No.”

“Come onnn, I made it with love!”

“I literally watched you drop that on the floor.”

Nobara pouted dramatically, only for Yuji to swoop in and eat whatever it was she had been trying to force on Megumi. The two of them laughed at something he said, and even Megumi, who always tried to seem indifferent, looked somewhat amused.

I turned my gaze away with a slight smile, focusing on my food.

It shouldn’t have made me feel like this.

It was such a simple thing—friends joking around, sharing lunch, teasing each other. It wasn’t as if I had ever expected to be part of something like that.

And yet.

I let out a quiet sigh and checked my phone.

Zero notifications.

The same empty lock screen. The same stillness.

I turned it off quickly and placed it back on the table, pushing my food around with my chopsticks.

“Not hungry?”

I looked up, startled.

Shoko had appeared beside me, a cigarette dangling between her fingers as she leaned against the bench. Her sharp eyes flickered to my barely-touched food.

“Oh,” I hesitated. “No, I just…” I trailed off, not really knowing how to finish the sentence.

Shoko hummed. “Gojo giving you trouble?”

I blinked. “What?”

She smirked, exhaling smoke. “He’s been staring at you a lot.”

My stomach twisted uncomfortably. I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just gave a weak chuckle and shook my head.

“I think he just likes messing with people.”

“That’s an understatement.” Shoko stretched, then took another drag. “He’s nosy, though. If he’s paying attention to you, he’s probably noticed something.”

I swallowed, suddenly feeling even more self-conscious.

Shoko didn’t push. She just glanced at my food again, then nodded toward the cafeteria. “You should eat with them sometime. They wouldn’t mind.”

I smiled, but it didn’t quite reach my eyes.

“Maybe,” I lied.

She didn’t call me out on it. Just gave a lazy wave and wandered off, disappearing into the school.

I should have expected it.

I really should have.

But when Gojo’s voice rang out, disrupting my fragile moment of peace, I still nearly choked on air.

“You eat like someone’s forcing you,” he remarked, plopping down onto the bench beside me without a single care.

I froze.

He was too close.

I wasn’t used to people being this close.

Gojo didn’t seem to notice—or, more likely, he didn’t care. He leaned back, stretching his long legs out in front of him, his arms sprawled over the back of the bench as if he owned the whole world.

I forced a weak chuckle, gripping my chopsticks tighter. “I eat fine.”

“Debatable.” He tilted his head toward me. “You’re all stiff. Like a scared little rabbit.”

I gave him a look, but I knew better than to actually argue. Gojo thrived off reactions.

Instead, I let out a breathy laugh and looked away.

He wasn’t deterred.

“So,” he continued, tapping his fingers against the bench, “why do you always eat alone?”

I nearly dropped my chopsticks.

The question caught me off guard—not because it was unexpected, but because it was so blunt.

My throat felt tight. “I just prefer it,” I murmured, staring down at my food.

“Really?” Gojo drawled. “Because I think you just don’t know how to ask to sit with someone.”

I swallowed, gripping my chopsticks so hard they might snap. “That’s not—”

“C’mon, am I wrong?”

I didn’t answer.

Gojo sighed dramatically, turning to face me fully. “You’re a weird one, you know that?”

I let out a nervous laugh, feeling my entire body lock up under his gaze.

“And you’re loud,” I mumbled before I could stop myself.

He grinned. “I am loud. But I’m fun, too.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I just nodded weakly.

He tapped a finger against the table. “Seriously, though. You’re always off on your own. No friends? No tragic backstory?”

I blinked rapidly, caught completely off guard. “I—”

“Oh my god, do you have amnesia? Are you secretly a lost princess? A government experiment gone wrong?”

Despite myself, I let out a small laugh. It was quiet, but it was real.

Gojo grinned like he had won something.

“You’re impossible,” I muttered, shaking my head.

“I know,” he said smugly. Then, after a pause, his voice turned softer—quieter. “But really. You okay?”

The question hit harder than I expected.

I stared at my untouched food, feeling my throat tighten.

I didn’t know how to answer.

Because I didn’t even know what ‘okay’ meant anymore.

Gojo didn’t push.

He just sat there, waiting, as if he had all the time in the world.

But I wasn’t ready.

So I did what I always did.

I laughed awkwardly. Nodded.

And said nothing at all.

Gojo let out a hum, tapping his fingers against the table again.

He knew.

Maybe not everything, but something.

And that scared me more than anything.

[coolemmasulivan2]

A Beautiful Mess | 1

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Two neighbors who can’t stand each other, until an accidental kiss changes everything.

Word count: 2846

But close ain't close enough 'Till we cross the line So name a game to play And I'll roll the dice, hey

You and Lando Norris had a problem with each other. There was no denying it. Something about the other person made your skin prickle with irritation, like an itch you couldn't scratch.

You were a Monegasque kindergarten teacher, a job that suited you perfectly. You adored kids. Their joy and innocence made your life simpler.

Monaco had always been your sanctuary: peaceful, elegant, yours. But that changed the moment Lando moved in next door a few years back.

You got along with everyone. It was just who you were. Friendly, patient, easygoing. But him? He was the exception. Loud, cocky, and an absolute menace of a neighbor. Even if he spent most of the year traveling, when he was home, he made sure you knew. The roaring engines, the late-night laughter, the endless stream of people coming and going. It was chaos wrapped in luxury.

He could've lived anywhere. He had the money. But somehow, out of all the places in Monaco, he chose your building.

"I guess Lando's back?" Your sister said, raising an eyebrow as loud music blasted from the apartment next door.

You let out a deep sigh, chopping vegetables with more force than necessary. "He's been back for a while… unfortunately."

A smirk tugged at her lips. "Let me guess, he did something already?"

"Oh, just parked in my spot today. Again." You shot her an exasperated look before slamming the knife against the cutting board. "Someday I'll kill him. I swear."

She chuckled. "Maybe he's running out of places to park his collection."

"I don't care!" You huffed. "He's a billionaire, he can buy a garage. Or better yet, move to a bigger place and stop being my problem."

"You know he does all of this just to piss you off, right?" Your sister said as she sat at the dining table, watching you set down the salad. "You should just ignore him."

"I know!" You groaned, sinking into the chair across from her. "But I can't. He's impossible to ignore. He knows exactly how to push my buttons."

Lando and Max were deep into a racing simulator session, music blasting through the apartment as they waited for their food to be ready.

It was Max's turn on the sim, but the pounding music was messing with his concentration. "Dude, the music... turn it down." He grumbled, eyes locked on the screen.

Lando barely glanced up from his phone. "Why?"

"Because I can't focus! It's too damn loud." Max tried to keep his attention on the race. "Someone's going to complaine about the noise." Then a thought struck him. He paused the race and shot Lando a knowing look. "Wait a second… You want this, don't you?"

Lando shrugged. "No idea what you're talking about."

Max scoffed. "Bullshit. You're trying to piss her off. You want her to came here. That's why the music's so loud. What's your problem with her?"

Lando smirked, eyes flicking back to his phone. "It's fun watching her all worked up."

Max shook his head, half amused, half exasperated. "You know, she's actually really nice."

Lando snorted. "To you and everyone else. Not to me."

"Yeah, because you're an asshole."

Lando finally dropped his phone onto the desk and leaned back in his chair. "She's been like that since day one. She started it."

"And instead of finding out why, you just decided to make things worse." Max said, shaking his head. "Classic you!"

Before Lando could fire back, a knock on the door echoed through the apartment.

His smirk widened. "Told you, she can't stay away." He pushed up from his seat, heading for the door.

Max groaned, calling after him, "Dude, be nice, please!"

You bit your nails, pacing as you waited for Lando to answer his door. Normally, you were a calm and patient person. But Lando Norris had a talent for bringing out the absolute worst in you. And the worst part? He enjoyed it. You knew he did.

Inside your apartment you heard the door finally open.

"Hi!" Your sister's voice rang out, soft and sweet, just like she always was. Unlike you, she had never raised her voice in frustration, not even to assholes like Lando.

"Oh, hi!" Lando's voice dripped with warmth, and you immediately rolled your eyes. Of course, he could turn on the charm when he wanted to.

"Sorry to bother you…"

"No problem!" He said. You nearly gagged.

"Could you turn the music down a little?" Your sister asked politely.

"Yeah, of course. Sorry about that, I didn't even realize it was that loud. Really, I'm so sorry."

Your jaw nearly hit the floor.

You had stood at his door countless times, asking the same thing, and every single time, he would gave you a cocky remark, or worst of all, he'd turned the music up louder just to spite you. But with your sister? He was suddenly the picture of politeness.

You were seconds away from storming out of your apartment to tell him exactly what you thought of his two-faced behavior, but your sister's voice stopped you.

"I appreciate it. Goodnight."

"Goodnight!" Lando replied smoothly. You let out a deep breath, leaning your head against the wall in frustration. Your sister had just started pushing the door open when Lando added: "Oh, and say hi to your sister for me."

That was it. You clenched your fists, shoving past your sister, ready to wipe that smug grin off his face, but before you could get a single word out, his door clicked shut.

"I hate him so much."

From the other side of the door, Lando grinned like an idiot, watching you through the peephole as you stomped away in frustration.

"There's just something special about pissing her off." He mused, clearly enjoying himself.

Max, standing behind him with his arms crossed, let out a sigh. "You're an idiot."

Two days had passed since your sister left for Rome, where she lived with her boyfriend. You were alone again, not that it bothered you. Your parents still lived in Monaco, in the house you grew up in, and you saw them almost every day.

One of the things you loved most about Monaco was being so close to the ocean. Every morning, as soon as you opened your bedroom window, you would close your eyes and breathe it in—the salty air, the gentle breeze, the familiar scent that made you feel at home. It was the perfect way to start the day, making your morning run that much easier.

Like always, before heading to work, you laced up your shoes and stepped outside. Today was no exception.

You had been running for a while, sweat clinging to your skin as your breath fell into a steady rhythm. The music playing softly in your ears didn't drown out the sounds of the city.

Lost in thought, you instinctively turned toward your building, crossing the road without a second glance.

The loud sound of tires screeching against the asphalt snapped you out of your trance. A rush of air whooshed past as a sleek car came to a sudden stop just inches from you. Your heart leaped into your throat, your body reacting before your mind caught up. You stumbled back and before you could stop yourself, you were on the ground.

The driver's side door swung open, and before you even looked up, you knew exactly who it was.

Lando stepped out, his expression a mix of worry and frustration, but before he could speak, you were already pushing yourself to your feet, your hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline.

"Are you insane?" You snapped, ripping your airpods out. "You almost ran me over!"

His brows shot up. "Me? You're the one who ran straight into the road without looking!"

You opened your mouth to argue, but the truth of his words sank in. Still, there was no way you were letting him win this. "Maybe if you weren't driving like a lunatic--"

Lando scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Driving like a lunatic? I was literally pulling out of the garage."

You huffed, brushing the dirt off your leggings. "What if it was a kid crossing instead of me?"

"Then I would've stopped, just like I did now." He shot back. "But you... You didn't even look before stepping onto the road! What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I wouldn't have to worry about being flattened by my obnoxious neighbor before eight in the morning!"

Lando shook his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You're unbelievable."

"You're infuriating."

"You're dramatic."

"You're--"

"Y/n?" A new voice cut through the tension, making both of you turn. Standing a few feet away was your kindergarten director. Dressed in his usual grey suit, he raised an eyebrow at the two of you. "Is everything alright?" He asked.

You cleared your throat, suddenly aware of how ridiculous this must have looked, standing in the middle of the street, flustered, sweaty, and arguing with a F1 driver.

"Yes, everything's fine!" You said quickly, forcing a polite smile.

Monsieur Bernard nodded, then glanced at Lando. "I didn't realize you knew such a famous driver, Y/n!" He stretched his hand and Lando shook it.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "We're just neighbors."

Lando grinned. "Very close neighbors."

You shot him a glare, but before you could say anything, Monsieur Bernard continued. "You know, our little ones love racing. It would be wonderful if you could visit the school sometime, talk to the kids about it."

"Oh!" You forced a polite chuckle. "I'm sure Lando is far too busy. I wouldn't want to take up his time."

Lando, to your absolute horror, shrugged. "Actually, I think it's a great idea." You snapped your head toward him, eyes wide. "Yeah, why not? I've got some time before the season starts again. I'd love to come by."

Monsieur Bernard smiled. "That's wonderful! Y/n, can you please set everything up?" You smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Norris. It was nice to meet you."

"Likewise." As Monsieur Bernard walked away, you groaned, rubbing your temples. Lando chuckled, slipping his hands into his pockets. "See? I can be a good neighbor."

You exhaled sharply, turning on your heel toward your building. "I hope the kids throw paint at you."

Lando chuckled, watching you storm off, clearly frustrated with how the day had started. His gaze lingered for a moment longer than necessary and not even he could deny that your ass looked good on those leggings.

"Stop it, Lando!" He muttered to himself, shaking his head as if it would physically shake the thoughts away. "Don't go there."

With a deep breath, he slid back into his car, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary. Without another glance at the building, he drove off.

You lay in bed, scrolling through your phone, hoping to lull yourself to sleep. The soft glow of the screen was the only light in the room, your thumb moving lazily over the screen, until something in your feed made you pause.

Your eyes narrowed as you clicked on the reel. A fan edit of your annoying neighbor filled your screen, all set to a song that did nothing to make him look innocent. Quite the opposite.

Your breath hitched slightly, your eyes locked on the video as if trapped in some kind of trance. The way he carried himself, the confidence, the effortless charm-- No. Absolutely not.

The reel restarted, snapping you out of whatever trance had just taken over you. With a horrified gasp, you jolted upright, tossing your phone onto the bed like it had burned you.

"Ugh-- no. What the hell?" You threw a pillow at your phone, like the device was alive. "Even on my phone?" You groaned, burying your face in your hands.

This man was infiltrating every corner of your life. And you hated it.

The day had arrived.

The kids had been buzzing with excitement all week, their energy doubling ever since they learned that Lando Norris was coming to visit. It didn't matter that half of them were too young to understand F1, but the mere idea of someone fast and famous coming to their school had them bouncing off the walls. You, on the other hand, were bracing yourself for chaos.

You had done your best to keep the kids calm, but by the time the morning rolled around, they were practically vibrating with anticipation. What car does he drive? Will he let us race? Can he do drive in the playground?

And then, Lando arrived. Dressed in his McLaren clothes, sunglasses and wearing that signature smile.

The kids lost their minds. "Landoooooo!" The group rushed toward him, bombarding him with questions before he could even say a word.

"Whoa, whoa, one at a time!" Lando laughed, crouching down to be at their level.

You stood at a distance, arms crossed, watching as he handled the chaos with surprising ease.

"Can you drive faster than Batman?"

"Can we race you?"

"Do you get scared when you go super fast?"

Lando hesitated for a second, then grinned. "Sometimes! But that's what makes it exciting."

You rolled your eyes. Still, you couldn't deny that the kids adored him. They hung onto their seats, eyes wide with fascination as he described what it felt like to race at over 300 km/h, how he trained, and even how he sometimes got nervous before big races.

Somewhere in the middle of the chaos, you realized that Lando was actually good at this. He had their full attention, something you usually had to work twice as hard for.

And then, as if sensing your thoughts, he caught your eye from across the room and winked, making you gag.

Unfortunately for Lando, someone else caught the moment.

A little girl sitting nearby tilted her head curiously, her big eyes flicking between the two of you. "Is Miss Y/n your girlfriend?" She asked innocently.

Lando, who had just taken a sip of water, immediately started coughing. He nearly choked, hand flying to his chest as he struggled to recover. "What?"

You, on the other hand, wanted the earth to swallow you whole. The rest of the kids, now very interested, turned toward you both with excited expressions.

"Is that why you're here?" Another girl asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

"Do you live together?" A boy asked before Lando could even recover from the first question.

Lando, still slightly choking, looked horrified.

"Nope!" You cut in quickly, clapping your hands together in a desperate attempt to redirect the conversation. "Who wants to show Lando their artwork?"

A chorus of Me! Me! Me! erupted, and just like that, the kids forgot all about their matchmaking attempts, eagerly rushing to grab their drawings.

You let out a slow breath, glancing at Lando, who was still lightly hitting his chest.

"What the hell just happened?" He asked, his voice still uneven.

You crossing your arms. "They're kids, Lando! If you wink at their teacher, this is what you get."

"A vision of a nightmare?"

You shot him a glare. "Asshole!"

He smirked. "Such a dirty mouth for a kindergarten teacher."

Your jaw clenched. You took a deep breath, forcing a smile as sweet as honey. "And yet, still more mature than a F1 driver."

Lando grinned, leaning in just a little. "Debatable."

Before you could walk away from Lando, chaos erupted.

"Me first!"

"No, me!"

Two of the kids appeared out of nowhere, each clutching their artwork, too focused on their battle to notice where they were going. Straight into you.

You barely had time to react before they crashed into your legs, making you lose balance.

"Oh--"

Lando was sat in a chair right in front of you, and before you could steady yourself, you stumbled forward and fell right into him.

His hands instinctively came up to catch you, but it was too late. Your lips brushed against his. It was barely a touch, but enough to make the world stop.

The kids were still yelling, the classroom still buzzing with energy, completely unaware of what had just happened, but all you could register was the way your lips were still touching.

You quickly pulled back, eyes wide, heart racing. Lando blinked up at you, looking just as stunned, his lips slightly parted as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.

You straightened, feeling warmth creeping up your neck,

"This is my drawing." One of the kids said, tugging at Lando's sleeve. "It's a boat and this is my dad."

That snapped Lando out of it. He cleared his throat and looked away from you. "Wow, that's amazing! You're so talented."

You turned away quickly, your pulse still hammering as you focused on the children, pretending like nothing had happened.

Lando rubbed the back of his neck, still looking anywhere but at you.

For once, there were no smirks, no teasing, just the feeling that something between you had just shifted.

[heeluvv]

I love ur fics sm please don’t ever die i need u so I can live.

you guys are so funny lolll

𝐂𝐋��𝐒𝐒 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 ∿

pairing ⋮ nerd ! sim jaeyun x reader

genre ⋮ smut

warnings ⋮ handjob, sub jake, public masturbation, etc.

natty's notes ⋮ mdni, hate comments will be deleted.

you had always thought jake sim was handsome.

it wasn’t just the way his glasses framed his sharp eyes or how his uniform was always neat and crisp—there was something about the way he carried himself. always poised, always in control. he never spoke unless necessary, always focused, always serious. but you wanted to see what would happen if that composure cracked, if you could be the one to make it happen.

so when you were paired with him in the back of the class, you saw an opportunity.

jake, as usual, was immersed in his notes, his hand moving effortlessly across the page. the slight furrow in his brow only made him more attractive, and as he adjusted his glasses, you couldn’t help but let your eyes linger on the veins lining his forearms.

your hand moved before you even thought it through. slowly, you traced your fingers along his thigh under the desk, light enough to seem accidental. but when his muscles tensed, you knew he felt it. he inhaled sharply, his pen halting mid-word.

"jake, can you answer the next question?" the teacher’s voice rang out, and you felt his body stiffen even more.

he coughed lightly, struggling to compose himself. "y-yes," he stammered, but you could hear the waver in his voice, see the way his grip tightened around his pen.

pressing further, you let your hand slide up, ghosting along his inner thigh. he flinched, his knee jerking slightly as he shot you a pleading glance. his pupils were blown wide, his breath coming a little heavier.

"the, uh—the answer is…" his voice cracked, and you could feel the heat radiating off him. "th-the treaty of… wait, no, i mean—"

"the treaty of westphalia?" the teacher prompted, raising a brow at his unusual hesitation.

jake clenched his jaw, nodding rapidly. "y-yeah. that."

"correct." the teacher moved on

leaning in slightly, you whispered against his ear, "you’re so easy to mess with, jake."

his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his fists clenching around his pen as though it was the only thing keeping him grounded. he looked at you then, his eyes dark with something unreadable, his breath still uneven.

maybe this was just a game to you. but the way his knee still bounced, the way his fingers twitched, and the way his lips parted like he was struggling to find the right words told you one thing—

you had jake sim exactly where you wanted him.

the thrill of power coursed through you as you let your fingers graze the inside of his thigh again, this time slower, firmer. jake’s breath hitched, his hand clenching into a tight fist against his notebook. his knuckles turned white from the pressure, and you could see the subtle tremor in his fingers as he struggled to keep writing.

"jake?" the teacher called out again, forcing him back into the present.

his voice came out tight, restrained. "y-yes?"

"could you read the next passage for the class?"

his eyes flickered to you for a split second, desperation swimming in those dark irises. you merely smiled, feigning innocence as your fingers traced up just a little further. jake inhaled sharply before clearing his throat, attempting to steady himself.

his voice wavered as he began reading, each word more strained than the last. "d-during the… the late seventeenth…" he paused, taking a shallow breath, "century, the treaty of… of…"

his grip on the desk tightened, his leg pressing hard against yours as if seeking some sort of grounding. but you weren’t about to give him that. no, you wanted to see him unravel just a little bit more.

your hand moves with deliberate slowness, fingertips grazing over the waistband of his trousers before slipping beneath, the warmth of his skin meeting your touch. the heavy bulge strains against the fabric, thick and pulsing beneath your palm as you press your fingers around him, feeling the heat radiating through the tight space. the pressure of his trousers makes it difficult to move freely, your grip slightly restricted, but that doesn’t stop you from stroking him, teasingly slow, feeling every twitch, every pulse of anticipation.

"o-oh my god…" jake exhales shakily, his breath catching in his throat as his adam’s apple bobs. his hands clutch the edge of the desk, knuckles paling as he fights to keep his composure. his eyes dart across the classroom, scanning every distracted student, every unsuspecting classmate, the fear of getting caught only amplifying the rush surging through his veins. his thighs tense beneath your touch, a subtle shiver running through him as he bites down on his lip, trying—desperately—to suppress the moan threatening to escape.

a soft chuckle escapes your lips, barely audible beneath the low hum of the classroom, but enough for jake to hear. his face is completely flushed, a deep shade of red creeping down his neck, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. his teeth sink harshly into his bottom lip, a desperate attempt to stifle any noise, but it does little to mask the way his body trembles under your touch.

his fingers clutch the book in front of him, knuckles white as he tries to focus, tries to read the passage again, but the words blur together. his voice falters, stuttering over syllables, a broken mess of consonants and vowels slipping from his lips. every time he attempts to regain control, another soft grunt escapes, betraying him. his thighs tense beneath the desk, muscles rigid as he grips the pages tighter, his frustration evident in the way his breath hitches with every subtle movement of your hand.

"are you okay, jake?" the teacher’s voice cuts through the air, making his entire body jolt. his eyes widen, panic flashing through them for a split second before he forces himself to respond.

"y-yea... oh—" his voice cracks, barely above a whisper as his throat bobs with a hard gulp. he clears his throat, trying to mask the tremor in his tone. "y-yeah... i'm fine."

but the way his legs twitch under the desk, the way his grip tightens on the book, and the way his breath comes out in short, uneven puffs say otherwise.

feeling the frustration build from the tight confines of his trousers, you act on impulse, fingers working swiftly to undo the button before dragging the zipper down, the metallic sound barely noticeable beneath the murmurs of the classroom. the moment his length is freed, the heat of him pulses against your palm, heavy and warm, twitching slightly as the cool air grazes his sensitive skin. the thought of being caught barely even crosses your mind—you don’t care. not when you’ve craved this for so long, not when the desire has been burning deep within you. nothing was going to stop you now.

jake sucks in a sharp breath, his entire body jolting at the sensation of your hand wrapping firmly around him, fingers molding to his shape as you squeeze just enough to make his head fall back slightly. before, the teasing strokes of your fingers were enough to make him twitch beneath the fabric, but now—now, feeling your entire hand around him, moving with slow, deliberate strokes—it was overwhelming. a strangled whine catches in his throat, his lips parting as his body betrays him, hips shifting ever so slightly into your touch.

his breath is unsteady, chest rising and falling in sharp, shallow movements as he struggles to hold himself together. the words on the page in front of him are nothing but a blur, the letters dancing across his vision as his grip tightens on the book, knuckles paling under the pressure. he can’t do this. he can’t focus, can’t think, can’t even pretend like he’s remotely paying attention when every fiber of his being is drowning in the pleasure of your touch.

his voice is weak, barely above a whisper, but desperate nonetheless. "c-can someone...else read?" he stammers, the words tumbling out in a broken plea, his throat dry, his breathing labored.

the teacher barely spares him a glance before moving on, but jake doesn’t even register it—his mind is elsewhere, completely consumed by the way your hand works him under the desk, his entire body teetering on the edge of something dangerous.

"y/n... please... y/n," jake whimpers, his voice barely above a breath, breaking apart in desperate, hushed pleas. his head tilts downward, strands of his soft hair falling over his flushed face as he struggles to contain himself, his teeth sinking into his lower lip so hard it threatens to bruise. his grip on the desk is tight, fingers curled over the edge as if holding on for dear life, his knuckles turning stark white.

your strokes have become faster, firmer, the slick warmth of your palm working him with an unforgiving rhythm. his thighs tense beneath the desk, twitching under your touch, his body betraying him with every involuntary jerk of his hips. he’s barely keeping it together, every passing second pulling him deeper into the pleasure that coils hot in his stomach, threatening to consume him whole.

"you like it, baby?" you whisper, voice dripping with sultry amusement, your lips just close enough to his ear that he shudders. your gaze never wavers, locked onto him, watching the way his brows knit together, the way his lips part just enough for small, broken gasps to escape. the way his chest rises and falls in ragged breaths, completely at your mercy.

the sight alone sends a rush of heat straight between your legs, the throbbing ache only intensifying as you watch him fall apart beneath your touch. he looks so vulnerable, so beautifully ruined, his body begging for more even as he struggles to hold himself back. his hands tremble slightly as he grips the desk harder, trying so desperately to stay grounded, but it’s useless—you can feel just how close he is, how badly he needs you, how badly he wants to let go.

"aren't you a naughty boy, letting me please you in class, hm?" you murmur, your voice laced with teasing wickedness, each word dripping into his ears like honey. the way you say it, slow and sultry, only makes his body tense even more, a visible shiver running through him as he twitches in your grip. he knows he shouldn’t be doing this, knows how wrong it is—how risky—but the sheer thrill of it, the fear of being caught, only fuels the fire burning in his stomach.

"s-shit, y/n... please..." he whimpers, his voice trembling, barely able to form words as he shifts in his seat. his fingers dig into the edge of the desk, gripping it so hard his knuckles nearly lose color, his entire body fighting against the overwhelming pleasure crashing through him. his gaze flickers nervously around the room, scanning every classmate, every oblivious face, his chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths. the paranoia of being watched, of someone noticing the way he's falling apart under your touch, only makes his pulse race faster.

a soft gasp escapes him as your thumb brushes over his tip, swirling in slow, torturous circles, smearing the precum that dribbles down his shaft. the sensation sends another shudder rippling through his body, his thighs clenching, his breath hitching as his head tilts back just slightly before he quickly regains himself. it’s too much, yet not enough—he craves more, needs more, but the restraint, the setting, the unbearable tension of it all, has him teetering on the edge of something dangerously euphoric.

his hips jerk forward without thought, unconsciously seeking more of your touch, chasing the pleasure you’re so cruelly drawing out of him. every stroke, every movement of your fingers, has him melting, his mind clouded with nothing but the intoxicating feeling of your hand wrapped around him. he’s losing himself in the moment, drowning in the sinful act you’ve trapped him in, and at this point, he doesn’t care—he just needs you to keep going.

“fuck... fuck... fuck—” he whined out, his voice breathy and desperate as he teetered on the edge of his high. his body trembled, muscles tensing before he finally let go, his release spilling over your fingers in thick, hot ropes, dripping down onto the cold, unforgiving floor of the classroom. the sharp contrast between the heat of his pleasure and the chill of the abandoned space sent another shudder through him.

your breath hitched at the sheer amount, watching as he kept coming, his body jerking with aftershocks, completely lost in the overwhelming sensation. his head tilted back against the desk, lips parted and glistening from where he'd bitten down, trying to muffle his moans. his lashes fluttered, struggling to stay open, but the pleasure was too much—his eyes clenched shut, brows furrowed, every inch of him consumed by the intensity rippling through his veins.

his chest rose and fell in uneven pants, the remnants of his climax still coating your hand, warm and slick. the scent of it lingered in the air, mixing with the faint chalk dust and worn wood scent of the classroom, a filthy contrast to the otherwise mundane setting. the only sounds now were his ragged breaths, the faint drip of his release hitting the floor, and the distant hum of the school’s air conditioning.

natty's notes ⋮ okay guys i hope you enjoyed this, i also had a request asking for more jake "fics" (if you wanna call this idk) so here you go. tysm for all the love you guys are showing on my post it means so much to me <333

[xhoess]

Midnight Melodies

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader

Warnings: Strong languag, Sexual content, Emotional tension, Intimate/romantic scenes, Fluff and angst, Mentions of uncertainty in relationships, Explicit content.

Wc: 10,3 K

Masterlist

If there was one thing everyone at Eden Academy could agree on, it was that Kim Hongjoong was perfect.

Student council president. Straight A’s. Teachers loved him, students respected him, and somehow, he made wearing a uniform look effortless. If someone needed help, Hongjoong was the first to offer. If there was an issue, he fixed it before anyone else even noticed.

You, on the other hand, were a little more… invisible. Not a bad student, not a standout. Just another face in the music club, trying to keep things afloat.

Which is why you were standing outside the student council room, gripping the petition for your club’s funding like a lifeline. This is fine, you told yourself. Just go in, ask him for help, and leave.

Taking a breath, you knocked.

"Come in,” a voice called.

The room was pristine, every file and folder stacked with precise care. And there, at the center of it all, was him.

Hongjoong sat behind his desk, a black pen twirling between his fingers. His eyes lifted when you entered, scanning you in that unreadable way that made people nervous.

“Ah,” he said, setting his pen down. “You’re from the music club, right?”

You nodded, suddenly feeling too aware of yourself. “Yeah. I—uh—wanted to talk about the budget cuts. We’re supposed to compete next month, but without funding, we can’t afford equipment or travel costs.” You placed the petition on his desk. “We got over a hundred signatures. I was hoping you could—”

Hongjoong sighed, rubbing his temples like he already knew where this was going.

"The school board’s been strict this year,” he said. “They want to prioritize ‘academic-focused’ programs.”

Your stomach dropped. “So, what? We just get pushed aside?”

He gave you a look. Not unkind, but unreadable. “I’ll bring it up at the next meeting. But I can’t promise anything.”

You stared at him, frustration bubbling in your chest. “You’re the president. If anyone can convince them, it’s you.”

For the first time, Hongjoong hesitated. His fingers tapped against the desk, his gaze flickering—just for a second—before settling back into his usual cool expression.

“I’ll try.”

The words felt like a deflection. Something was off about his tone, but before you could question it, he stood, effectively ending the conversation.

“Was there anything else?”

You clenched your jaw. “No. Thanks for your time, President Kim.”

Turning on your heel, you left, irritation simmering under your skin.

Why did it feel like he already knew the answer before you even walked in?

The school was quiet, unnervingly so. The usual bustle of students, the sounds of lockers slamming and chatter filling the hallways—gone. Only the steady ticking of the clock seemed to echo in the silence.

You had no intention of staying this late. The last few hours had been a blur of rewriting your club’s proposal, attempting to salvage any chance of getting the funding you desperately needed. But time had slipped away, and now it was far past curfew.

10:42 PM flashed on your phone screen as you stuffed your papers into your bag and slung it over your shoulder. You hurried down the hallway toward the nearest exit, hoping the janitors hadn’t locked the gates yet.

Just as you reached the door, though, a sound stopped you cold.

Music.

At first, you thought it was an illusion. Maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, longing for some background noise after so much silence. But then the beat hit again—deep, pulsing, relentless. It wasn’t the usual classical stuff the school played during assemblies, nor was it anything you’d heard during practice with the club. This was… different.

Intrigued and a bit confused, you turned toward the source. The sound was coming from an old classroom at the end of the hallway, one that had long since been abandoned for more modern spaces. The door was slightly ajar, a thin strip of light spilling into the darkness of the hallway.

You hesitated, your heart starting to race. The music sounded raw, emotional—real.

As you quietly approached the door, you peered through the crack, eyes widening at what you saw.

There, sitting at an old desk cluttered with various music equipment, was Kim Hongjoong.

But not the Hongjoong you knew—the student council president who always kept his uniform crisp, his hair perfectly styled, his demeanor immaculate.

No, this Hongjoong was lost in the music, head tilted down as his fingers flew over a laptop’s touchpad. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing lean forearms. His tie was loosened, hanging sloppily around his neck. The usual sharpness in his eyes was softened by the dim glow of the screen, his expression focused, intense.

This wasn’t the perfect student—this was a person completely immersed in his art.

The music swelled, the bass pounding in your chest, and you could feel the energy in the room—a deep, throbbing force that seemed to pulse through the very walls. It was raw and unfiltered, the kind of sound that felt more like a confession than a performance. It wasn’t the kind of music that would be welcomed at Eden Academy’s polished events.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Hongjoong wasn’t just studying. He was creating something—something entirely different, something he had been hiding from everyone.

A sudden, loud beat made you flinch, your foot shifting on the floor with an audible creak.

He heard you.

Hongjoong’s head snapped up, eyes locking with yours in an instant. For a split second, there was only silence—the thrum of the music fading as he froze, his gaze sharp but not quite as controlled as usual.

You both stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, and then the music abruptly stopped, replaced by a tense stillness that filled the room.

“…What are you doing here?” His voice was low, more gravelly than you expected, his usual confident tone softened by something that felt closer to a mix of frustration and surprise.

Your heart was still pounding, but you stepped into the room, a challenge rising in your chest. "I could ask you the same thing."

Hongjoong ran a hand through his hair, clearly rattled. “You shouldn’t be here,” he muttered, standing up and pushing his chair back. “I didn’t mean for anyone to find out.”

You looked at the screen of his laptop, where the remnants of the music project remained, the waveform still visible. "This isn’t school-approved music, is it?"

Hongjoong was quiet for a long moment, his hands resting on the edge of the desk as if he didn’t know whether to shut the laptop or leave it exposed.

Finally, he sighed, rubbing his temples. "No. It’s not."

You tilted your head, stepping closer to him. “Why? Why are you hiding this?"

The edge in his voice softened slightly, but his eyes remained guarded. “Because if they find out, it’s over. This isn’t what they want. I’m supposed to be the model student, the ‘perfect president,’ the one who plays by the rules.” He shook his head, almost as if he was frustrated with himself. “But I’m not. I don’t fit the image they want me to have.”

Your brow furrowed. “You love this, don’t you?”

Hongjoong’s gaze flickered, and for the first time in this conversation, he looked vulnerable. “Yeah,” he said quietly, almost under his breath. “I do.”

He glanced at the desk, avoiding your eyes. You could see the conflict in the way his hands gripped the edge of the table—like he was torn between two worlds.

“You don’t have to hide it, Hongjoong,” you said softly, your voice almost a whisper. “Why don’t you just fight for it? You’re the student council president. You can make a change. You can—”

He cut you off, his voice rough. “It’s not that simple. You don’t understand.”

You took a step closer, and for a moment, the distance between you two felt like miles—emotional miles. You had never seen him like this before, so raw, so... real.

The tension in the room thickened, and your pulse quickened as Hongjoong’s gaze drifted to your lips. You weren’t sure if it was your imagination, but for a brief second, it felt like the world had shifted. Like the perfect, untouchable student president had become... something else entirely.

“Then explain it to me,” you whispered, your voice shaking slightly, a mix of curiosity and something else.

His lips parted, and for a moment, it seemed like he was going to say something—something that might have changed everything. But instead, he swallowed, his jaw tightening.

“Some things… you just can’t explain,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. His hand, almost of its own volition, reached out, brushing against your wrist. The contact was electric.

Your breath caught in your throat as he stepped back, avoiding your eyes. He was pushing you away, but not quite in the way you expected.

“Go home, before someone catches you here,” he said, his tone colder now, but still laced with that underlying tension.

You stood still for a moment, processing everything—the music, his confession, the way his hand had lingered on yours.

Before you could speak, he was already turning back to his laptop, shutting the lid with finality.

“Go.”

You wanted to say something. You wanted to argue, to demand more answers, but instead, you simply nodded, leaving the room with the weight of his secret pressing down on your chest.

Kim Hongjoong wasn’t who you thought he was.

And suddenly, you weren’t sure where this path was taking you anymore.

The days following that night were frustrating, to say the least.

You had seen him—the real Hongjoong, not the perfectly polished student council president. You had heard his music, felt the weight of his emotions in every note. And yet, when you saw him at school, he acted like nothing had happened.

In the hallways, he walked past you without a second glance. In class meetings, he spoke with the same cool authority, as if he hadn’t confessed something deeply personal just a few nights ago.

And it pissed you off.

Because now that you had seen that version of him, you couldn’t unsee it. Now that you had felt that tension crackle in the air between you, you couldn’t pretend it didn’t exist.

So, on Friday night, when you found yourself standing in front of the abandoned classroom again, it wasn’t hesitation you felt. It was determination.

This time, you weren’t going to let him push you away.

You pushed the door open without knocking.

The music was already playing.

And there he was—exactly where you expected him to be.

Hongjoong sat hunched over his laptop, the dim glow of the screen casting a soft light on his face. He was dressed more casually tonight. His blazer was draped over the back of his chair, his white dress shirt slightly wrinkled, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His tie was gone, and the top few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a glimpse of collarbone.

He looked comfortable.

He looked like himself.

But when the door clicked shut behind you, he didn’t look up.

“You’re back,” he murmured, fingers adjusting a sound level on his mixer.

“I had questions,” you said, stepping forward. “But you ignored me all day.”

A hint of amusement flickered across his face, but he still didn’t look at you. “I wasn’t ignoring you.”

“Oh, really?” You folded your arms. “So you just happened to walk past me five times today without seeing me?”

Now, he smirked. Smirked.

“Maybe,” he said.

The smugness in his voice made something snap in you.

“Fine,” you said. “If that’s how you want to play it.”

Before he could respond, you marched across the room and closed his laptop.

The music stopped abruptly.

Hongjoong froze, his fingers still hovering over the keyboard. Then, slowly, he looked up at you.

And that was when the tension shifted.

Because now, his eyes weren’t distant. They weren’t indifferent.

They were burning.

“Careful,” he murmured, his voice lower now. “You don’t know what you’re messing with.”

You met his gaze, refusing to back down. “Then explain it to me.”

A heavy silence stretched between you. The only sound in the room was the soft buzz of the equipment and the faint hum of the air conditioning.

Then, Hongjoong did something you didn’t expect.

He sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and then tugged you down into the chair beside him.

You yelped slightly as your knees brushed against his, your shoulder bumping his arm. The proximity sent a sharp jolt of awareness through your body.

Hongjoong leaned in, voice quieter now. “You really want to know?”

You nodded, trying not to focus on how warm he was next to you, how his scent—a mix of cologne, coffee, and something distinctly him—wrapped around you like an unintentional trap.

He reached for his laptop, flipping it back open.

“Then listen.”

The music started again, softer this time, as if he had adjusted it just for you.

You sat there, side by side, listening to the melody pour from the speakers. The beat was slower, deeper—less controlled, more raw. It wasn’t polished like the music you were used to hearing in school competitions.

It was honest.

As the song played, you found yourself leaning closer, drawn into the way Hongjoong’s fingers moved so effortlessly over the controls. The way he adjusted the sound with care, like each note meant something to him.

“You made this?” you asked softly.

He nodded, his expression unreadable. “Yeah.”

“It’s…” You struggled to find the right words. “It feels personal.”

Hongjoong exhaled a quiet laugh. “That’s because it is.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

This wasn’t just music to him. It wasn’t just a hobby. It was something deeper—something he didn’t show to just anyone.

Your eyes flickered to his hands, the way his fingers traced over the laptop’s trackpad. He had artist’s hands—quick, precise, confident. Without thinking, you reached out, letting your fingertips ghost over the back of his hand.

Hongjoong stilled.

The air in the room shifted.

His eyes flickered up to yours, something dark and unreadable swirling behind them. He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t move either.

“You’re not scared of getting caught, are you?” you murmured.

His lips parted slightly. His gaze dipped—to your lips, just for a second—before flickering back up.

“Not scared,” he said. “Just… aware.”

Your fingers were still touching his. Not a full hold, just the faintest brush of contact. But it was enough. Enough to send a pulse of heat through your veins, enough to make the space between you feel smaller than it was.

Something had shifted.

Something had changed.

You weren’t sure who moved first—him or you—but the next thing you knew, you were leaning closer, your breaths mingling in the space between you. The tension was thick, electric, alive.

Then, just as quickly as it happened, Hongjoong pulled back.

The loss of warmth was immediate.

You blinked, slightly dazed. “Hongjoong—”

“You should go,” he murmured, voice quieter now.

He wasn’t pushing you away out of anger.

He was pushing you away because he was scared of something.

You could see it in his eyes—the hesitation, the restraint. Like he had already let you get too close.

Like he knew that if he let you stay, something would happen that he wouldn’t be able to take back.

You swallowed hard, your chest tightening. “Why do you do that?”

His gaze flickered to yours. “Do what?”

“Push people away when they start to care.”

His jaw clenched. He looked like he wanted to answer—but he didn’t. Instead, he exhaled and turned back to his laptop.

“You should go,” he repeated, softer this time.

You hesitated.

Then, slowly, you rose from your seat.

But before you left, you leaned in—just enough for him to hear you—and whispered:

“You can keep pushing, Hongjoong. But I’m not going anywhere.”

Then, without waiting for a response, you walked out.

The moment you stepped out of the classroom that night, you knew this wasn’t over.

Hongjoong could push you away all he wanted, but something had shifted between you two. The tension, the glances, the way his fingers had lingered against yours—it was all leading somewhere.

And you weren’t going to be the one to turn away first.

---

The next week was different.

Hongjoong still played his role perfectly—the student council president, the model student, the untouchable leader. But you noticed things now.

The way his eyes subtly searched for you in the cafeteria. The way he tensed whenever you walked into a room, like he was hyper-aware of your presence. The way he hesitated before speaking whenever you were near.

He was unraveling.

And you wanted to see just how far he’d let himself go.

---

Friday night.

You didn’t even hesitate this time.

When you walked into the abandoned classroom, you found Hongjoong exactly where you expected him—but he wasn’t alone.

A small group of students was gathered around him, headphones slung around their necks, deep in conversation about something on his laptop. The energy in the room was different from before—louder, more alive.

You hovered near the door, watching.

Hongjoong was in his element. His hands moved as he spoke, his voice animated as he explained something on the screen. His sleeves were pushed up, his tie once again missing.

This version of him—the one who was passionate, focused, completely unguarded—was dangerously attractive.

And then he saw you.

His voice faltered for just a second. His hands stilled. The others didn’t seem to notice, but you did.

You smirked. Gotcha.

“Yo, we should probably bounce before curfew,” one of the students said, stretching. “You coming, Hongjoong?”

He hesitated. His eyes flickered to you for the briefest second.

Then, he shook his head. “I’ll stay a little longer.”

Interesting.

The others packed up and left, their laughter fading down the hallway. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving the two of you alone.

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, watching you. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

You shrugged, stepping closer. “Nope.”

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. “You should.”

“Should I?” You tilted your head, your voice quieter now. Daring.

His eyes darkened slightly. He didn’t answer.

Instead, he pressed a button on his laptop, and the music started playing.

Not the kind of polished, rehearsed music the school expected of him.

This was different.

It was slower, deeper—seductive.

A heavy beat thumped through the speakers, vibrating through your skin. The bass was thick, pulsing like a heartbeat. The melody slithered through the air, wrapping around you, pulling you in.

Hongjoong watched you, his fingers tapping against the desk in rhythm with the beat.

You took a step closer. Then another.

And then you did something bold.

You reached out and tugged his headphones off his neck.

He froze.

Your fingers brushed against the skin just below his jaw, and you felt him tense.

The air between you shifted.

The music pounded, drowning out the silence.

Hongjoong’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, his breath unsteady. His eyes flickered from your hand to your lips—just for a second—before he exhaled sharply and turned away.

“Careful,” he murmured, voice rough.

You smirked, tilting your head. “Or what?”

His jaw tightened. He stood up so suddenly that your heart jumped.

And then he was right in front of you.

Closer than he had ever been.

His scent—clean, musky, with the faintest trace of cologne—wrapped around you, and your breath hitched.

“Or you might not like what happens next,” he murmured, his voice low, dangerous, promising.

Your heart pounded.

Your fingers were still wrapped around the headphones, your knuckles barely brushing his chest.

Neither of you moved.

Neither of you backed away.

And then—he did it.

He broke first.

One of his hands lifted, his fingers grazing the side of your face—slow, deliberate.

You inhaled sharply, your lips parting slightly at the unexpected touch. His fingertips were warm against your skin, his touch feather-light, almost hesitant.

But his eyes?

There was nothing hesitant about them.

They were dark. Intense. Focused entirely on you.

“I should stop,” he murmured.

But he didn’t.

Instead, his fingers traced down, barely skimming along your jaw, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

Your pulse roared.

“You should,” you whispered.

But neither of you moved.

The music thrummed through the air, each beat thick with something unnamed, something dangerous.

Then—his thumb brushed the corner of your mouth.

A barely-there touch. A test. A warning.

Your breath hitched.

His gaze flickered to your lips again.

For a second, you thought he was going to do it.

You thought he was going to close the distance, finally let this fire consume you both.

But then—

A loud knock on the classroom door shattered the moment.

Hongjoong pulled back so fast it was like he had been burned.

The spell broke.

Your chest was heaving.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides.

The knock came again, sharper this time.

Hongjoong exhaled harshly, his jaw tight. “It’s locked,” he called out, his voice slightly hoarse. “Give me a second.”

Your heart was still racing.

Your skin still buzzed where he had touched you.

You met his gaze one last time—a silent conversation neither of you dared to finish.

Then, before he could stop you, you turned on your heel and walked out.

Leaving him breathless in the dim light of the music room, staring after you like he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

The tension was unbearable.

For days after that night, neither of you spoke about what had happened.

Not about the music. Not about the way his fingers had traced your jaw. Not about the way he had looked at you—like he wanted to do something reckless, something irreversible.

But silence didn’t mean nothing had changed.

Because it had.

It was in the way he watched you now—like he couldn’t help himself. It was in the way his breath hitched when you brushed past him in the hallways, in the way his fingers lingered just a second too long whenever he handed you something.

It was in the way he didn’t push you away anymore.

---

Friday night.

You weren’t sure if he would be there.

But the moment you stepped into the classroom, you found him—waiting.

Hongjoong was sitting at the desk, head bowed, fingers tapping idly against his laptop. His sleeves were rolled up, his tie discarded, his top buttons undone just enough to make your throat go dry.

The tension in the room was instant.

The door clicked shut behind you.

His fingers stilled.

Slowly, he looked up.

And that was when you knew—tonight would be different.

---

For a long moment, neither of you spoke.

The only sound in the room was the hum of his laptop, the quiet static of the speakers.

Then—

“You keep coming back,” he murmured.

You leaned against the desk beside him. “And you keep letting me.”

His jaw clenched. His hands curled into fists on his lap.

There it was again.

That barely contained tension. That dangerous edge of restraint.

Your heart pounded.

“You don’t get it,” he muttered, voice low. “This isn’t a good idea.”

You tilted your head. “Then why haven’t you told me to leave?”

His breath stilled.

He had no answer.

Because he didn’t want you to.

Something shifted.

You weren’t sure who moved first.

All you knew was that one second, there was distance—and then there wasn’t.

One of his hands lifted—hesitant, searching.

Then his fingers ghosted along your wrist, curling just slightly around your skin. A shiver ran through you at the warmth of his touch, at the deliberate slowness of it.

Hongjoong wasn't rushing.

He was savoring.

Like he knew this was the moment before everything changed.

Your breath hitched.

And then, finally—finally—he broke.

In one smooth motion, he pushed off the desk, closing the last bit of space between you.

You barely had time to react.

One hand slid up to cup the side of your face—gentle but firm. The other settled low on your waist, his fingers pressing into the fabric of your shirt, pulling you against him.

And then—

His lips crashed into yours.

It wasn’t soft.

It wasn’t hesitant.

It was desperate, consuming, weeks of pent-up tension unraveling all at once.

Your fingers curled into his shirt, clinging as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing flush against yours. He exhaled sharply against your lips, his grip tightening as if he was trying to memorize the way you felt.

Like he was afraid to let go.

The kiss was heat, urgency, unspoken emotions spilling over.

When you finally broke apart, you were breathless.

His forehead pressed against yours, his breathing ragged. His fingers were still tangled in your hair, his other hand still resting on your waist.

Instead, you whispered, “Do it again.”

His eyes met yours—dazed, unreadable.

And then, barely above a whisper—

“Tell me to stop.”

You swallowed, heart racing.

But you didn’t.

And just like that—the fire consumed you both.

"not here.." he Whispers.

He led you to the boy's dormitory wing, a place strictly off-limits to female students. The thrill of the forbidden made your steps quicken, your breath coming in short gasps. He opened the door to his room, ushering you inside.

"Hongjoong, are you sure about this?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled, closing the door behind you. "I wouldn't have brought you here if I wasn't. But we need to be quiet, okay? If the professors find out, I'll lose my whole reputation."

You nodded, a thrill of excitement coursing through you. The danger of it all was intoxicating.

He moved closer, his eyes locked onto yours. "You're beautiful, you know that?" he murmured, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

"Thank you," you whispered back, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.

He leaned in, his lips softly meeting yours. The kiss was gentle at first, a tender exploration that deepened as you both surrendered to the moment. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, and you parted them, allowing him entrance. His taste was sweet, like the coffee he must have had earlier.

squirm with pleasure. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with a primal hunger. "You like that, don't you?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

You nodded, your breath coming in short gasps. "Yes," you managed to whisper.

He stood up, his hands moving to your jeans. He unbuttoned them, his fingers brushing against your stomach as he pulled them down. He took his time, his eyes never leaving yours as he revealed your lacy panties. He hooked his fingers into the waistband, pulling them down slowly, his gaze locked onto yours.

licked you slowly, his tongue flat against your clit. You moaned, your hips bucking against his mouth. He chuckled, the vibration sending shivers through you.

He licked and sucked, his tongue exploring every inch of your pussy. He slipped a finger inside you, curling it to hit your G-spot. You cried out, your hands fisting the sheets. He added another finger, pumping them in and out while his tongue continued to work your clit.

You were close, your body tensing as the pleasure built. He sensed it, his fingers and tongue working in tandem to push you over the edge. You came with a cry, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over you.

He crawled back up your body, his cock hard and ready. He kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips. "You taste so fucking good," he murmured.

He positioned himself at your entrance, looking into your eyes. "Are you ready?" he asked, his voice husky with desire.

You nodded, your body still trembling from your orgasm. He pushed into you slowly, his cock stretching you as he filled you completely. You gasped, your nails digging into his back.

"You okay?" he asked, concern in his voice.

You nodded, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Yeah, I'm good. Just...take it slow."

He nodded, his hips moving in slow, deliberate thrusts. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a deep kiss as he moved in and out of you.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him to move faster. He obliged, his hips moving in quick, hard thrusts. You moaned with each one, your body eager for more.

He broke the kiss, his eyes locked onto yours. "You like that?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

You nodded, your breath coming in short gasps. "Yes, yes, I do."

He flipped you over, pulling you to your hands and knees. He entered you from behind, his hands gripping your hips. He pounded into you, his cock hitting your G-spot with each thrust. You cried out, your body pushed to the edge once again.

He reached around, his fingers finding your clit. He rubbed it in time with his thrusts, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You came with a scream, your body convulsing as your orgasm washed over you.

He followed soon after, his body tensing as he came inside you. He collapsed onto the bed, pulling you with him, his body spooning yours.

You lay there, your body sated and exhausted, his arms wrapped around you. You listened to the sound of his heartbeat, slowing as he caught his breath.

"That was...incredible," you murmured, your voice soft and content.

But unfortunately this great moment had to come to an end. After hongjoong made sure you where alright and cleaned up you had to leave.

Oh god you feel so phatetic leaving like this but there is no other options, they will check the dorms every evening

The walk back to your dorm was hell.

Every step felt heavier than the last, the distance between you and Hongjoong’s dorm growing with each footfall, yet the warmth of his touch, the taste of his kiss, lingered like an invisible weight pressing on you. Your pulse still throbbed in your ears, your body still buzzing from the intensity of what had just happened. The world outside seemed so distant, so disconnected from what had just unfolded behind closed doors.

You kept your head down, pretending that nothing had changed, trying to act normal, but you couldn’t escape the new reality that had just been carved into you. What had just happened?

His hands, his mouth, his scent—all of it was still imprinted on your skin, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was something much bigger than just a fleeting moment. It was dangerous—you both knew that.

But it had felt so right.

---

Once you crossed the threshold into your dorm, you felt the weight of the moment descend on you, that strange blend of guilt and excitement that came with sneaking around, with doing something you weren't supposed to. The door clicked shut softly behind you, but the silence that followed felt deafening. You had just done something you never imagined doing, and now, you were left alone with your thoughts.

Your roommate was already asleep, her light snores filling the otherwise quiet room. You sat down on your bed, staring at the ceiling. There was nothing to distract you, no escape from the overwhelming thoughts running through your head. You closed your eyes, and there he was again. Hongjoong, his body against yours, his hands, his lips, his voice murmuring your name.

It wasn’t just the physicality of it.

It was the connection. The chemistry. That undeniable pull that made you feel like you were being drawn into his orbit, over and over again.

But now, the silence that stretched between you two was almost suffocating. No texts, no calls, no awkward glances in the hallway. Had he regretted it? Or was this just part of his plan to keep you at arm’s length? You had no way of knowing.

You hated the uncertainty.

---

The Next Day

The day passed like a blur.

Classes felt like a distant memory as your thoughts kept drifting back to him, back to that night. But no matter how hard you tried to focus, you couldn’t stop thinking about his hands on your skin, his lips on yours.

You barely looked at him when you saw him between classes. His presence made your heart beat harder, faster, and you didn’t know how to handle it. Every time your eyes met his, you felt that pull again, that fire burning just beneath the surface. But he didn’t approach you, didn’t say a word.

He was avoiding you.

At least, that’s how it felt.

Maybe it was easier for him. Maybe he knew what to do next, while you were left in the haze of the aftermath. What were you supposed to do now?

You hated that you couldn’t read him. You hated how he could make you feel so… so alive, yet leave you completely in the dark about what was really happening between you two.

But the worst part?

The worst part was how much you wanted to see him again.

---

That Night

The campus was quiet, the lights from the hallway casting long shadows across the floor. The hours ticked by slowly. You couldn’t stand the silence, couldn’t stand the thought of him, of that night, lingering in your mind without any resolution. You needed answers.

So, you decided to go to him.

You slipped out of your dorm, careful not to wake anyone, and made your way through the empty halls, heart pounding in your chest. The music room was your destination. You knew it, like a second home, but tonight it felt different. Everything felt different.

You reached the door and found it slightly ajar, the soft sound of something being typed filling the space beyond. Your breath caught as you pushed the door open a little more. There he was—Hongjoong.

His back was to you, and he was sitting at the desk, headphones on, his fingers dancing across the keyboard. His posture was relaxed, but there was something tense in the air.

You stood there for a moment, just watching him. For all the confidence you had before, now, your body felt uncertain. Your nerves were running wild, and you didn’t know whether you wanted to yell at him for ignoring you or pull him toward you again.

But then he turned, his eyes meeting yours, and just like that, everything else faded away.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t move. The world seemed to stop for a moment as the two of you locked eyes.

Your heart thudded loudly in your chest. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

He exhaled sharply, removing his headphones slowly, like he was steeling himself for something. “I haven’t.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Don’t lie to me, Hongjoong.”

He flinched, his eyes flicking down to his hands for a moment before they came back up to meet yours. The wall he had been hiding behind was crumbling, and you could see the uncertainty in his expression.

He hesitated. “It’s not…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. He took a step toward you, but his voice was quieter this time. “It’s not that simple.”

You took a step closer, not giving him the chance to distance himself. “Then what is it?”

He sighed, his hands resting on the desk behind him, almost like he was holding himself back. “I don’t know what to do with this.”

Your stomach churned at his words. What was that supposed to mean? You weren’t the only one confused, but this wasn’t the time for him to retreat again. Not now.

“I don’t know either,” you whispered. “But running away from it won’t make it go away.”

His breath hitched, his gaze locking onto you with such intensity that it almost knocked the air from your lungs. He was standing so close now, his body tense with restraint. “I can’t just ignore it. I can’t just… forget what happened.”

Your heart pounded in your ears. You had been afraid of the same thing. What if this had been a mistake? What if he regretted it? But when his eyes softened slightly, when he took that step closer—you knew it wasn’t.

You reached out, gently taking his hand in yours. “Then don’t. Don’t forget. Let’s figure this out together.”

His hand tightened around yours, and for a moment, it felt like he was holding onto you for dear life. He pulled you closer until you were standing right in front of him. His breath was warm against your skin, his lips barely brushing your forehead as he spoke.

“Do you even know what you’re asking?” His voice was hoarse, as though the weight of it all was pressing down on him.

You nodded, your fingers brushing his jawline, urging him to look at you. “I know exactly what I’m asking.”

His hands slid up your arms, cupping your face gently as he tilted your head up. “You make this harder than it needs to be,” he muttered, but his lips were already on yours before he could finish the thought.

It was slow at first, hesitant—as if both of you were testing the waters once more. But it didn’t take long for the kiss to deepen, to turn desperate, as the same need, the same fire from the night before reignited between you.

Hongjoong’s hands moved to your waist, pulling you flush against him, the heat of his body overwhelming. His lips moved from yours to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “I don’t know how to stop this,” he whispered.

“I don’t want you to stop,” you replied.

His hands slid beneath your shirt, his touch sending sparks through your body. Everything about him, everything about this moment felt inevitable—like you had been waiting for it, unknowingly, all along.

And when his lips found yours again, there was no hesitation. No questions. Just the overwhelming need to be close, to be more than just two bodies in a room. To be something real.

---

The night unfolded again, just like it had before—intense, electric, and full of emotions that you hadn’t known you were capable of feeling. But this time, it was different. There was no fear of the unknown anymore. There was only the certainty of the connection between you two. The understanding that this wasn’t a one-time thing.

And as the hours wore on, you found yourself in the same place again—lost in him.

When it ended, both of you were breathless, tangled in each other, yet something had shifted. There were still questions, still doubts, but for the first time in a long time, you were willing to face them.

---

The days that followed that night were a whirlwind of confusion and longing, neither of you knowing exactly how to navigate the space you’d created between yourselves. After that kiss, after everything that happened, the silence was the loudest thing in the room.

You saw him in passing, in the hallways, sometimes in classes, but each time you caught his gaze, it felt like there was something unspoken between you two. You wanted to reach out, to say something, but every time your thoughts started to gather into words, they fell apart in your chest. You were stuck in this space, hovering somewhere between wanting to pull away for the sake of your own sanity—and desperately needing to know what Hongjoong was thinking.

But as each day passed, you couldn’t keep pretending that things were normal.

You needed answers.

You needed to hear it from him. Again.

---

It was another late evening when you decided you couldn’t keep walking around in the fog of uncertainty. Hongjoong’s dorm room door was slightly ajar, and you could hear faint music playing inside—probably a track he was working on. The sight of it was enough to make your heart skip a beat.

You stood outside for a long moment, your breath catching as you tried to gather the courage to knock. You couldn’t avoid it anymore. No more games. No more pretending like everything was fine. You needed to hear it from him, needed to know whether what had happened between you two was real, or if you’d both just gotten caught up in the moment.

With a deep breath, you knocked.

The door creaked open, revealing Hongjoong, looking slightly startled to see you standing there. His hair was disheveled, his eyes still holding the remnants of the exhaustion that came from hours of working. But when he saw you, his expression softened.

“Hey,” he greeted you, his voice low and tentative.

You swallowed, feeling your pulse quicken. “We need to talk,” you said, and it felt like every word you spoke was dripping with the weight of everything that had happened between you two.

Hongjoong hesitated for a moment, glancing behind him toward his desk, but he stepped back, gesturing for you to come inside. You did, your eyes scanning the room quickly, but all you could focus on was him.

You stood in front of him, the silence stretching between you two. The tension felt thicker than ever. Finally, Hongjoong spoke, breaking the quiet. “What’s going on? What do you want to talk about?”

You didn’t want to dance around it anymore. You couldn’t.

“I want to know what we’re doing here, Hongjoong,” you said, your voice shaking slightly, but the words were out before you could second guess them. “After everything... after last night—why are we pretending like nothing happened? Why are you using me?”

His face softened, but you could see the inner conflict in his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “It’s not that I’m using you... I just—I don’t know how to handle this. I don’t know what to do with how I feel. It’s not that simple, you know?”

You nodded, taking a step closer to him. “I get that. I’m confused, too. But I can’t keep pretending that nothing’s different. That night meant something. I don’t know what exactly, but it wasn’t just some random moment.”

Hongjoong’s expression softened even more, and he took a deep breath. “It wasn’t just some random moment for me either,” he confessed, his voice quiet but firm. “I’ve been trying to figure it out—what this is between us. But I guess I was scared. Scared that if I admitted how I feel, things would get messed up... But I can’t stop thinking about you. And I don’t want to keep pretending like I don’t.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. For the first time, there were no walls between you. No ambiguity, no confusion—just raw honesty.

“Hongjoong…” You felt a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, and you couldn’t hold back anymore. “I don’t want to pretend either.”

His eyes softened as he stepped closer to you, his hand reaching up to gently touch your cheek. “So, you feel the same way?” he asked, his voice low, almost as if he was afraid to hear the answer.

You nodded, feeling your heart race as you looked up at him. “Yeah. I feel the same way.”

A sigh of relief escaped Hongjoong, and before you knew it, he was leaning in, his lips brushing against yours in a slow, tender kiss. This time, it wasn’t filled with the frenzy of desire—it was filled with something softer, something more intimate, as if you were both acknowledging that you had just crossed a threshold.

When he pulled back, he didn’t let go of you. His forehead rested against yours, and there was a gentle smile on his lips. “So... you’re saying this is real? That we’re doing this?”

You laughed softly, the sound a mix of relief and joy. “Yeah, I think we are.”

---

EPILOGE

From that moment on, the change between you two was undeniable. The space you’d once kept between each other had melted away, replaced by an easy, comfortable closeness. Hongjoong wasn’t avoiding you anymore. In fact, he was more present than ever, his attention focused on you every chance he got.

It wasn’t all perfect—nothing ever is. But now that you knew where you both stood, it was easier to navigate the growing feelings between you two. There was no more guessing. There was no more distance. You were together, and the unspoken weight had been lifted.

You spent more time in his dorm after classes, enjoying the quiet moments where you could simply be with each other, no pretenses, no expectations. And every time he touched you, kissed you, or simply smiled at you, your heart swelled with something you couldn’t quite name—but you knew it was something that felt right.

No more doubts. No more hiding. You were both committed to whatever came next.

The First Date

A week later, Hongjoong invited you to a small cafe downtown, away from the prying eyes of the campus. It wasn’t flashy, but it was perfect. Just the two of you, sipping coffee, talking about everything and nothing, laughing freely without the weight of fear or uncertainty hanging over you.

There, in that cozy corner, he reached for your hand across the table, his fingers brushing yours with a softness that made your heart skip.

“This is nice,” Hongjoong said, his voice full of contentment as he looked at you, his eyes filled with affection. “I don’t want to rush anything, but I want to make this work. With you.”

You squeezed his hand, a smile tugging at your lips. “I want that, too.”

And in that moment, you both knew that this—this was just the beginning.

_____________________

Taglist: @oceanside-view97 @hwa-stars @hoe4yunho @hohongjoong

[judasgot-it]

Dr Ratio x Reader

Dr Ratio tries to teach y/n basic algebra (and cries doing so, they are just that stupid)

"You do what's in the parenthesis first,"

This was too hard.

With great regret, you had asked Dr. Ratio to help you with understanding algebra. You didn't even really care for the subject that much, but apparently you had to understand it in order to learn the cooler math. Which sucked - why couldn't you just do the interesting stuff first? This doesn't really seem related to anything, honestly.

But according to him, this was a basic foundation of mathematics.

Which sucked. It was so stupid. Why were there letters in this? You were pretty sure math is about numbers.

How does x even equal a number? You wouldn't know, because you were stuck on this problem for over twenty minutes now.

This was question 3 on the quiz he gave you. A simple one. He just wanted to go over the basics he had lectured you about. Which left you stuck in the same seat you had watched him lecture from, your ass already sore from sitting for so long. Unfortunately, freedom was far away as you got completely lost on how to solve any of these problems.

5(x+1)=2(x-5)-6

You tried to subtract the 1 out of the parenthesis, to bring it to the other side. This was how it's done, right?

Looking up, you saw his mask covering his face. So you didn't know if you were doing what you should be. So you just kept going.

Somehow you got 1/5.

That probably wasn't the right answer. But whatever.

Dr. Ratio was making weird noises at this point. He loomed over you, his abs almost hitting the top of your head as he watched - once in a while his thigh would hit the back of your chair, reminding you of whatever thought process he had. However he saw what you were doing from underneath that mask, you just knew he was judging you.

Carefully, you focused on the next problem.

The seething professor behind you hadn't allowed you to use a calculator - according to him, it was far too easy. Something one can easily do in their head.

It felt a little more embarassing to have to do the subtraction on the side. You don't remember 54-12 off of the top of your head, and you weren't a math god. So you had to do this each time. The side of your paper was riddled with lines that broke down or added numbers.

"That's not right."

He placed his hand on your shoulder, leaning down even further as he took his other hand and scrutinized the paper in front of him. The mask on his face brushed against your head, and it was unexpected - it didn't feel cold nor warm, simply just room temperature. It wasn't as hard as stone either.

"I thought the point of a quiz was for me to figure it out, not the teacher."

There was no point in arguing with him though. You were tired and your hand hurt.

"You can't even figure it out. At this point, this is a form of torture," The way he said that made it sound as if he was in more pain than you.

"Did you listen to anything that I had said?"

"Yeah." No the fuck you did not.

"None of your answers should be fractions. You also can't even follow the order of operations."

"I did the parenthesis like you said-"

"You just keep doing addition and subtraction. Not even well, since you make very simple mistakes."

You looked to where he was pointing; 39+42=71. That looked pretty correct to you.

"That's right though?"

"No. No, it's not. You missed an entire ten. It's 81," he sighed as he said this as if talking to a stupid child, curt but not able to truly express how he felt. Maybe he was justified in that response.

"Oh." You didn't know how he got that answer, but he was certainly right. Oops.

"You can't do algebra since you can't even do the basics. Do you even know how to multiply?"

"Yeah, I can-"

"Without a calculator. With double digits,"

He had taken off his mask, placing it to the side as he really started to scrutinize you; the hair on his forehead stuck to his skin slightly, having one bang that stubbornly clung to his nose and batting close to his eyelashes. The man even took a seat next to you, his eyes looking at yours and then back to the paper. As if he was in disbelief.

You could only shake your head. This was hard, and you could feel the frustration build up in your eyes as he only looked and scrutinized your paper further.

"You need to learn the basics again."

"This is the basics, right?"

"No. You can't even multiply or divide. That is elementary."

In shame, you put down your pencil and tried to hide your face behind your hands. You were never going to be able to do the cool math, were you? Like how to calculate the burger number. That's the cool math.

You heard the pencil be picked up by another hand, one that is a little too close to you - Dr. Ratio's shoulder brushed against yours, his bare and slutty arm taking up more than enough of your personal space.

"Let's go over this next problem. I'll explain it as you go along."

He was already giving you tips while you did the quiz, but that's fine. You have already dug yourself into a pit of shame and despair as you failed to do, apparently, basic math. So what would be one more embarrassing failure?

Taking the pen from his rather warm hand, you went back too it.

"So, how would you start this problem?"

At this point, his finger was just pointing at hieroglyphs. The letters with the numbers made it rather hard to comprehend what you were looking at.

"The parenthesis."

"There is no parenthesis in this," he frowned at you, continuing his streak of major disappointment. "Order of operations, PEMDAS, so what is your next step?"

"...multiply?"

"0 points. You do the exponents."

"So, the x with the little two."

You were sure that he blanked out on that one. His face had fallen into a strange expression, as if he had seen shadows move in his peripheral vision, as if he were followed by shadow people; a sort of pre-horror look.

"You do know what x squared means, correct?"

"How does x become a square? I still don't get that."

His face morphed into something else. Frustration, shock, agony. It could mean a lot of things, but his reaction was so strong you could taste it.

"You don't know what exponents are, do you?"

"...no."

You would think he would have understood this given how you were apparently bad at everything else. But it looked like you had slapped him and kicked his dog, from the look he gave you.

"By aeons what do you know!?"

"...1+1?"

He slammed his hands against the table. Your pencil rolled away from you from the shockwave, hitting the floor with a clatter as Ratio made loud facial expressions from underneath his hands. It looked as if he were a Shakespearian character who had been stabbed in the heart.

His breaths were heavy, his chest heaving with every attempt. One of his amber eyes peaked at you from underneath his slender fingers, staring at you as if you were a stubborn puzzle that did not wish to be solved.

There was something he wanted to say, but instead there was only a small noise that came from his throat. The stare he gave you could shatter glass.

"Are you okay, professor?"

He shook his head. The man turned to look at nothing, his face cradled in the palm of his hand.

"I have never met anyone like you."

That wasn't a compliment. But you were going to take it as one. That's the best you could do in this situation, honestly.

The man put his head down onto the table, one of his hands threading through his hair. You reached your hand out to his shoulder, patting him lightly in order to comfort.

You didn't see it, but there were tears pooling around his eyes, his chest heaving as he tried to calm himself down.

Authors note: I don't know what this is, I'm just trying to grasp ratios character. If it's OOC then that's cause i haven't even gotten to penachony yet.

Also the burger number is real it's called whopper and was literally named after the burger King sandwich. The more you know.

[gottaread2]

I am endlessly fascinated by the way love as a concept is explored in Oswald's and Edward's interactions. Although Oswald is portrayed as the more feeling character, I would argue that Ed more often takes on the role of guide or teacher in regards to love (particularly season 3).

The first "lesson" on love Ed gives Oswald is when he tells him that without love he is a "free man" and that love is a weakness. With this particular lesson, it is likely something Oswald already knew but needed reminding. We see him exploit other people's love to further his own gain all through season 1, but in the scene with Edward, it seems to really sink in that it applies to himself too. This lesson gets reinforced when Ed shoots him in season 3 and then applied by Oswald in season 4 when he sends Martin away for his own safety.

The second "lesson" was when Ed showed Oswald he didn't need to bribe his way into the office of mayor. He showed Oswald he was capable of being loved (by someone other than his parents) without needing to cheat or buy his way into it. This lesson didn't stick so well at first (otherwise the whole Isabella plotline would have gone very differently). By the end of season 3 however, I think there is notable change in how Oswald applies this. He doesn’t compromise himself to be more palatable to others. He doesn’t try to cheat or buy affection, but he does appear to give up on receiving it. If someone is going to like him then they will. If they don't, they don't.

The third "lesson" is obviously that love is sacrifice. Oswald seems to internalize this one more than any of the others. From this point forward, most of Oswald's acts of love are a sacrifice in some form. Staying in Arkham for Martin, giving up revenge to save Ed, losing an eye to save Ed again. He applies this lesson over and over again and it is one of the ways Oswald's love is revealed even when he never says the words again.

Love is such a main component to Oswald's character, his motivations, his drive. So much of the way he loves, the shape it takes, and the way it matured beyond the self-centered love he learned from his mother was all learned through Ed. And I'll probably never stop thinking about it.

[walkingnearfoxes]

The Space Between the Lines (Homelander x Reader) - Chapter 2

2.5k words. Teacher Reader. Homelander in an undefined part of the canon timeline. 18+ due to the devil’s lettuce and “that’s what she said” humor.

There are a dozen teachers who would kill for this job. You’re just not sure that you’re one of them. 

"His son?"

Vought had been very particular about who you could talk to about your job. If you told anyone outside your immediate family about who you were teaching, you could consider your career with Vought - and your career outside of Vought - terminated. Then, if there was even the slightest chance that anyone in your immediate family would talk to the media about it, you were extra terminated. Luckily, you did not have the slightest urge to speak to any living family member about this. They would have questions, worry, and manipulate; it wasn't worth the headache. As far as anyone you were blood-related to knew, you were tutoring vulnerable students Vought had adopted as their own. At first, you didn't think you would have a problem keeping everything a secret - but then you officially met the Homelander.

Addie, your roommate, stares at you from the living room windows. She is cross-legged on a purple bean bag, a bong delicately perched in her hands. She barely said a word over the last hour as you explained the details of your first school day.

You nod from where you're leaning against the kitchen counter. "Ryan Butcher."

"His last name is Butcher?" Addie sputters. "Is that his full name? Homelander Butcher?"

"...I don't think he has a last name."

Addie shakes her head as she lights the bong. "Dude, you're gonna die."

You groan and press your forehead to the kitchen counter. A mug of tea sits delicately between your hands, warming you in this frigid apartment. “Not helping.”

“Is there still time to quit?” She asks, and you hear her blow out a puff. “Or will he pop your head off like a grape if you do?”

You lift your head to answer her. “He wasn’t…that bad.”

Addie’s dry gaze meets yours across the room. Over the years, many have mistaken the two of you for siblings - even twins - based on your physical similarities. It didn’t help that many of your expressions morphed into one another’s over the years. She sighs your name as she places the bong down. “You’re not drinking the Kool-Aid, are you? The guy’s nuts.”

You drum your fingers anxiously against your mug. Until recently, the Homelander had a squeaky-clean reputation. His breakup with Queen Maeve - Addie’s favorite since childhood - had begun your friend’s suspicion that there was a darker side to America’s hero. You kept the benefit of the doubt until Stormfront and the public fallout from that fiasco. As more and more of your distant relatives on Facebook cheered for the Homelander, the more you grew weary of the strongest man on the planet. 

“I’m…trying to remain optimistic here,” You murmur, though you aren’t sure if you believe your words. “Anyone who does this much to educate their son has a good bone in him somewhere.”

“Thinking about his bones, huh?”

You pick up the tissue box on the counter and toss it at her head. She dodges it with ease and laughs, standing up with her bong. “I knew it. You deviant.”

“Open the windows in here. It smells like shit,” You toss back, laughing with her as you head for your room. “Good night.”

You hear her say goodbye before you shut the door to your room. After a quick change into pajamas, you curl in bed with the full intent of reading a book - but instead, you find yourself wasting the better part of an hour reading articles about the Homelander on your phone. 

It’s information whiplash. One website will lead you through a sea of gratitude for the man, detailing heroic saves across the decades. The next is a rabbit hole of conspiracy theories. Did he do something to Flight 37? Was he responsible for the massive turnover in the Seven lately? Did he follow the Stormfront’s abhorrent rhetoric?

By the end of your search, your stomach hurts. You switch to a guided relaxation video - surely this random deep voice on the Internet will calm you down - and flip over on your side to try to sleep. You’re facing the window, and your eyes naturally drift towards the Brooklyn skyline.

Odd.

You lift your head slightly. It looked as if there was a spark of light on the roof across from your building. Your vision was weakening after years of reading screens, but you could have sworn you saw a small pair of red spheres.

Red eyes.

Your stomach lurches again. You flip to face the wall and scoff a laugh at your reaction. As a child, you were always seeing things in the dark. You drove your family crazy with the number of nightmares you concocted out of dark closets and shadowy corners. You tighten the blankets and shake your head. “Can’t go crazy yet…we have a job to do tomorrow.”

The slow, deep voice of the mindfulness video eventually drifts you off to sleep. You have forgotten about the red eyes by the time you wake up.

~-~

Vought Tower is a nightmare of a commute for you. It involves a 20-minute walk, a subway ride, a bus, and yet another 20-minute walk. You and Addie thought about getting a car more than once, but your combined salaries sometimes made it difficult for you even to afford the apartment. Tagging on a vehicle to that wasn’t in the cards - though it might be if you survived this job.

You smile politely at the guards in the front lobby, scanning your badge so no one questions your walk to the elevators. As you begin the slow ascent to the penthouse, alone in the privacy of the mirrored walls, you review the “checklist” Vought provided you. You are wearing a modest outfit. No heels. You aren’t wearing any perfume. The shampoos and conditioners you used were not scented. Your soap had a light vanilla fragrance, and you had only used it briefly before quickly switching to the unscented body wash you purchased a few days prior. 

If you had learned anything from this job already, the Homelander was very particular. 

The nerves don’t find you until the elevator opens and you approach the penthouse door. The hallway was barren, a prolonged detachment from reality. Could you really do this? Teach the son of a man who could rip a building in half? Every part of your body is tense except for the shoulder he had corrected. There, the muscle was relaxed. Soft. It felt good; you couldn’t remember the last time your shoulder felt that good. But was that a blessing in disguise?

You are so lost in thought that you don’t realize you’re standing in front of the door until it opens.

To your shock, it wasn’t the Homelander’s piercing gaze that greeted you. Instead, it was the ocean-blue eyes of a child. You would guess he’s around ten, the same age as the student group you had last taught. He’s dressed in jeans and a flannel, and his hair is a light brown. All in all, he looks like an ordinary kid. It brings you more comfort than you anticipated. 

Brought back to the present moment, you smile. “Ryan, I presume?”

He smiles shyly and nods. “Yeah, that’s me. Are you my new social studies teacher?”

You nod with a widening smile. “That’s me.”

“It’s nice to meet you…uh, what should I call you?” He asks with a little shuffle of his feet.

You give him your preferred name. No need for formalities here; you have enough of those on the rest of your contract.

“So, give me the honest truth,” You say, biting back a coo at how his eyebrows fuddle in intrigue. “Do you like social studies? Or do I have to persuade you to like social studies?”

His face brightens, and you can’t help but note how different he looks from his father. “I love history,” Ryan admits in a soft voice. “My…um. I used to read about it all the time.”

Something made him hesitant to tell the whole story there, but you store that away. You adjust your bag hanging on your tight shoulder. “Well, the hard part’s over, then. Now we just get to be history nerds together.”

To your relief, that gives you a wider smile from the kid. “My dad says we’re gonna work at the kitchen table.”

He waits for you to walk in and then guides you to the dining room, a navy-paneled wall off to the side of the den. All the books you brought yesterday are there, along with a laptop for you and a notebook with about a dozen pencils and pens for Ryan. He certainly doesn’t want for supplies. You place your bag down and then sit at the laptop chair. You notice how your chair is to the right while Ryan sits at the head of the table. You don’t mind, but it’s an interesting setup.

“I just realized how rude I am,” You say, and Ryan looks up at you with too much concern. “I didn’t ask you what I should call you.”

He blinks. “What do you mean?”

You give him a playful glance. “Should I call you Ryan? Mr. Ryan? Super Ryan?”

His confusion melts into a sheepish laugh. “Oh. Um, just Ryan is fine. Thank you.”

“Oh, I don’t know! I think Super Ryan has a nice ring to it.”

You have a sharp intake of breath, but no muscles tightening this time. You knew he would be here. Still, the Homelander sauntering into the room is surreal. He’s still in full uniform - does he ever take it off? - and he’s beaming with pride at the sight before him. 

Ryan turns to look at him, and you notice a tweak to his smile. It’s hard to tell if it’s a son being embarrassed by his father or a boy being scared of the Homelander. “Hey, Dad.”

“Hey, kiddo,” The Homelander ruffles Ryan’s hair, and then he looks at you. His lip twitches, and there’s a long pause before he looks back at Ryan. “Manners, buddy. Did you ask if our guest wants something to drink?”

You sit up straighter. “Oh, I’m totally fine-”

“Grab a tea for her and whatever you want for you,” He taps Ryan’s shoulder twice, smiling down at him. The affection does seem genuine.

Ryan nods and shuffles out of his seat, giving you a shy glance before exiting the room. You watch him leave, and when you turn to look at Homelander, you see that he’s already looking at you. 

“Anything else you need?” He asks. He’s speaking in that same pleasant voice you heard yesterday, as if he’s ready for an interview at any moment. 

You manage a smile. “No, this setup is perfect. Thank you.”

His grin shows teeth. “Oh, my pleasure. One quick note though…” 

He takes Ryan’s seat and folds his hands in front of him. His arms are extended onto the table, mere inches away from where your hands were resting. You briefly stare at his red gloves before slowly looking back at his face. There is a new edge to his smile that nearly makes you wilt.

“While you’re teaching my son, I’d prefer it if you weren’t near any…” He waves a hand in the air as he searches for the right word. “...mind-altering substances.”

It takes you a moment to understand what he’s talking about, but then you remember. Addie’s bong. He can still smell it. You suddenly feel as if your skin is on fire. “Oh my God. Sir, I am so sorry. I didn’t use any. My roommate-”

“I told you to call me Homelander,” He reminds you slowly. “I know you didn’t partake, but you shouldn’t be near them. Can’t risk a contact high, can we?”

You stutter over your words momentarily, giving him time to rest a hand on your shoulder - the same one he fixed. He chuckles and gives you a pat that’s just a little too hard. “But Ryan likes you, so I’m gonna...remain optimistic here. One more chance.”

He stands up and circles behind your chair, leaning down to speak into your ear. “Love the vanilla, by the way…subtle, but just perfect.”

Your hands are clenched into tight fists as he swaggers to the end of the table and takes a seat. You know he’s looking at you, but you’re looking at the table. You only look up when you hear Ryan’s footsteps. He sets a plain black mug with steaming tea in front of you and sits down with water for himself. He looks at his father, and when he looks back at you, there’s a worried crinkle on his brow. “Is everything okay?”

“Just lost in thought,” You reassure him with the same warm smile you gave him earlier. “Did you know the British ruled the colonies for over 150 years, but the Revolution lasted only 7?”

Ryan’s eyes widen in interest. “150 years?”

You nod. “Yup. Shows you how tired the colonists probably were by then, huh?”

The Homelander huffs a quiet laugh, and you glance at him from the corner of your eye. He’s sitting back in the chair, his hands settled on his lap. There is nothing in front of him. He’s just…watching.

You have been a teacher for years, you remind yourself. You have dealt with crazy parents before. None of them could fly, but that didn’t matter. You were a teacher, you had a student, and you had a job to do.

“Alright, Ryan,” You sit forward and angle your laptop towards Ryan so Homelander’s gaze is just out of your view. “How much do you know about taxes?”

[jazzy96scorpio]

Teacher's pet

Chapter 1 My teacher is a DILF

Description: This is a story about a girl [You] who's super into her hot, older history teacher. You got a whole notebook full of fantasies about him. Things get steamy between you two and even though it's kinda taboo, you fall hard for each other. It's a rollercoaster of secret hookups, jealous moments, and eventually, you end up together. It's a bit naughty, a bit sweet, and definitely a story about going after what you want, even if it's a little scandalous.

Pairing: You / Mr Ben Miller Teacher

Warnings ⚠️: adult content, dirty talk, phone sex, oral sex (m/f receiving), first time sex, reader is virgin, fluff, age gap (legally 😉), unprotected sex, teacher kink, SMUT.

Word count: 7,200

The early morning light is breaking into your bedroom. Your mom's voice, a forceful crackle in the otherwise peaceful silence, startled you awake.

"Get up! You're going to be late for school!"

You mumbled something that sounded vaguely like "I'm awake," hoping it would be enough to appease her. But the warmth of your pillow and the lingering scent of sleep were too inviting. Your eyelids fluttered shut, and you drifted back into the sleep.

You knew you should get up. You knew you'd be in trouble if you were late. But the allure of sleep was simply too strong.

You jolted awake, the sound of your mom's voice still echoing faintly in your ears. You glanced at the clock on your nightstand. "Shit!" you exclaimed, scrambling out of bed.

Panic surged through you. You were already late! You threw on the first clothes you could find, brushing your teeth, and quickly combed your hair. Grabbing your backpack, you rushed out the door, your heart pounding in your chest.

You hopped on your bike, the cool morning air whipping through your hair. You pedaled furiously, the school looming closer with every desperate stroke. Your phone rang, and you saw it was your best friend, Sarah.

"Where are you, girl?" Sarah's voice, laced with a hint of panic, crackled through the receiver. "Class is about to start! Hurry up!"

"I'm on my way, I'm on my way!" you gasped, your voice breathless. "I overslept!"

You hung up the phone and pushed harder on the pedals, your legs burning. You could almost see the school gates now, a beacon of relief and dread. You were late, but you were going to make it.

You skidded to a stop in front of the school entrance, seeing Pedro, school janitor. He was busy fixing a wobbly leg on one of the benches, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"You're late again, miss," he chuckled, his voice gruff but friendly. "You're losing the bet."

You grinned, still catching your breath.

"Okay, Pedro, you win again."

You were almost at the door, your heart still racing from the sprint. As you glanced at Pedro, a figure emerged from the shadows. BAM! You collided with him, the impact sending a jolt through your entire body.

He caught you, his arms instinctively wrapping around you to prevent a nasty fall. You stumbled, dropping your phone with a clatter. He dropped his suitcase with a thud.

"Whoa there," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "Where are you rushing off to?"

You looked up, your breath catching in your throat. Standing before you was a man who looked like he'd stepped out of a magazine. Handsome, with a touch of gray at his temples, he exuded an effortless charisma that left you speechless.

Your mind, however, was anything but.

"OMG," you thought, "DILF, DILF, DILF!"

Oh dear. He was still holding you. You quickly realized the absurdity of your inner monologue and blushed furiously, trying to pull yourself from his surprisingly strong grip.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry, sir!" you exclaimed, your face burning. "I'm late for class."

You quickly bent down and picked up his suitcase, then scrambled to retrieve your phone. As you handed him the suitcase, your fingers brushed against his, sending a jolt of electricity through you. You swore you could feel the warmth radiating from his skin.

"Apology accepted," he said, his voice a low chuckle. He gestured towards the doorway with his left hand, a silent invitation for you to enter first. "Ladies first" he says.

"Fuck," you thought, He's a gentleman too.

Your face felt like it was on fire. You mumbled another apology and slipped past him, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. You glanced back at him, and he was watching you with an amused glint in his eyes.

You burst into the classroom, sliding into the seat next to Sarah.

"You made it on time!" she exclaimed, noticing your flushed cheeks and the way you were trembling slightly. "What happened out there? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. "OMG, girl, I just ran into a DILF!" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"And shit, he was holding me!"

Sarah burst out laughing. "Lucky you!" she giggled. "He must have been quite the sight."

Then she leaned closer. "We got news girl," she said, "They say we have a new history teacher today. Old Mr. Downey is sick. He retired."

"Thank God," you muttered, shuddering at the memory of Mr. Downey's peculiar odor. "That man smelled like a combination of old gym socks and pickled onions."

Sarah laughed again. "Well, let's hope the new teacher is an improvement. Maybe he'll be young and handsome."

You couldn't help but think of the man you'd just collided with. "Maybe," you murmured, a mischievous glint entering your eyes.

"Maybe he'll be even better than young and handsome."

And just as you were thinking that, the classroom door swung open, revealing the new history teacher.

To your surprise, it was him.

The man you'd collided with.

The man who had sent your heart racing and your mind reeling.

The man who, you now realized, was far more than just a "DILF."

He was breathtaking.

And he was your new history teacher.

😲 💓

Your heart plummeted to your stomach. "Shit," you whispered, "I'm fucked up."

Mr. Ben Miller entered the classroom, his gaze sweeping across the room as he placed his briefcase on the teacher's desk. He introduced himself with a calm and confident voice, his gaze lingering on you for a fraction of a second longer than on the others. You ducked behind Sarah, hoping he hadn't noticed you.

"Let's open our textbooks," he said, his voice a soothing baritone. "We'll continue with the lecture from where Mr. Downey left off. I'll be calling on each of you to introduce yourselves."

Your stomach did a flip-flop. He was going to call on you. You were going to have to speak to him, look him in the eyes, after that… that… accident.

The introductions went by in a blur. You watched with a mixture of dread and fascination as your classmates introduced themselves, some shy, some confident, some downright bizarre. And then, it was your turn.

"And finally," Mr. Miller said, his gaze sweeping across the room until it landed on you. "Miss…?"

You stood up, your legs trembling. "Miss… uh…" You couldn't seem to find your voice.

"Miss…?" Mr. Miller prompted gently, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Miss… [Y/N]," you finally managed to squeak out, your voice barely audible.

"Oh, hello Miss Late to the Class," Mr. Miller said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

"Shit… shit…" you thought.

"Nice name," he continued, a slow smile spreading across his face. "I hope you won't be late to my classes again, Miss [Y/N]."

You mumbled a quick "I won't, sir," and quickly sat down, feeling utterly humiliated.

As you sat down, Sarah nudged you with her elbow. "Gurrrrl," she whispered, her eyes wide with amusement, "You bumped into Mr. Miller! You are SO fucked up this year."

You groaned. "I know," you muttered, "He's going to hate me."

But then, a mischievous glint entered your eyes. "At least I'll enjoy the view," you whispered, a sly grin spreading across your face.

Sarah burst out laughing. "You are so weird," she giggled. "I don't know why you like older men."

You shrugged, a dreamy expression on your face. "Darling, look at those arms," you sighed dramatically. "Those big hands…FUCK, his neck and jaw… OMG, what he would do with those lips… that gray beard…" You trailed off, realizing you might have gotten a little carried away. "Okay, okay, I'll stop," you mumbled, blushing furiously. "I'm crazy, I know."

Sarah continued to giggle, shaking her head. "You are something else," she said, but a mischievous glint entered her own eyes. "I wonder if he'll notice you too."

You felt a blush creep up your neck. "Don't even," you muttered, though a small part of you secretly hoped that maybe, just maybe, he would.

As class ended, you rushed out of the classroom, escaping Mr. Miller's lingering gaze. You were a little flustered, but also oddly excited. You had never felt such a strong attraction to anyone before.

Outside, you found Sarah waiting for you. "Ready to go?" she asked, a mischievous grin on her face.

"Actually," you said, a blush creeping up your cheeks, "I was wondering if you'd like to come to my place."

Sarah's eyes widened. "Really?" she asked, a hint of surprise in her voice. "Pizza?"

"Of course," you replied, a smile spreading across your face. "Pizza and a movie. Just the two of us."

Sarah hesitated for a moment, then a mischievous grin spread across her face. "Deal," she said, "but only if you make the pizza."

You laughed. "Challenge accepted," you said, and together, you walked towards your house.

Chapter 2 Dreams

You both arrived at your house, soon after the scent of pizza filling the air. While you busied yourself in the kitchen, Sarah settled down at your desk, seemingly engrossed in your homework.

After a delicious pizza dinner, you retreated to your room, settling onto your bed. You chatted for a while, catching up on the latest gossip and sharing funny stories. Then, Sarah let out a startled gasp.

"What's this?" she exclaimed, holding up your notebook.

You felt your heart sink. "Oh no," you muttered.

Sarah was staring intently at a page filled with… well, let's just say your "admiration" for older men. "DILF's?" she read aloud, her eyes widening. "Really?"

You groaned. "It's just a list of men I like." You mumbled the last part, feeling your cheeks burn.

Sarah's eyes widened. "You have a whole list of them?" she asked, her voice dripping with amusement.

You buried your face in your hands. "Don't judge!" you pleaded.

Sarah burst out laughing, the sound echoing through your room. "Oh my god," she gasped, "You are so weird!"

"Come on," you said, a mischievous glint in your eye, "Let's play 'Smash or Pass'."

"Smash or Pass?" Sarah raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "With pictures?"

"Yep," you grinned, pulling out a magazine you'd been collecting. "I've got some… interesting choices."

Sarah opened the notebook and began flipping through the pages. "Okay," she said, "Let's see…"

The first picture was of George Clooney. "Pass," Sarah declared without hesitation.

"Smash!" you exclaimed.

Next was Robert Downey Jr. "Smash," Sarah said decisively.

"Smash baby!" you cheered.

Then came Pedro Pascal. "Smash!" Sarah exclaimed, grinning.

"Double Smash!" you declared, earning a laugh from Sarah.

"You know," Sarah said, a thoughtful expression on her face, "You should add Mr. Miller."

"Oh yeah?" you asked, a playful smirk on your lips.

"Smash," you said confidently.

"Pass," Sarah replied, raising an eyebrow. "He's your teacher, remember?"

"Rules are meant to be broken," you teased, earning a playful shove from Sarah.

And so, the game continued, filled with laughter, playful banter, and a healthy dose of teenage crushes.

🥰

That night, you had a vivid dream. Mr. Miller was there, his arms strong and comforting, holding you close. You woke up with a start, your heart racing. You quickly checked your alarm clock, determined not to be late again.

However, despite your best efforts, you overslept once more. You rushed out of the house, your heart pounding. As you approached the school, you saw Pedro, the janitor.

"Miss, you're losing that bet," he chuckled, his voice gruff but friendly.

"Okay, okay, what do I owe you this time?" you asked, already anticipating the task.

"The library," Pedro said, "I need to fix some shelves. If you could help me move some books around, that would be a great help."

"Sure thing, Pedro," you replied. "But you better bring coffee."

Pedro chuckled and nodded. "See you there, miss."

You smiled. Helping Pedro always made you feel good. He reminded you of your grandfather, a kind and lonely man who had always shown you kindness.

You entered the school building, a little flustered from your late start. Mr Miller overhead your conversation while he was leaving his car.

He approached Pedro and asked him "Why does she want to help you?" Mr. Miller's voice, deep and resonant, cut through the morning air.

Pedro chuckled. "She's the kindest girl I've met in this school, Mr. Miller. We have a little bet. If she's late, she has to help me with something around the school. She hasn't won a single bet this year"

📖

After classes, you headed to the library, eager to fulfill your "punishment." You found Pedro already there, a steaming cup of coffee waiting for you. You spent the next hour working together, joking and laughing as you moved books and organized the shelves. You even stumbled upon some fascinating old books, losing yourself in their pages for a moment.

Suddenly, the library door swung open and Mr. Miller stepped inside. "Good afternoon," he greeted you both, his eyes twinkling. "I was hoping to find a particular book here. Perhaps one of you can help me?"

You looked at Pedro, who shrugged.

"She's the history buff," Pedro said, gesturing towards you. "She knows more about these old books than I do."

Mr. Miller smiled. "Then I shall trouble you, Miss [Y/N]. I'm looking for information on…"

He paused, searching his briefcase,"…a local historian named Elias Thorne."

You felt a surge of excitement. "Elias Thorne? I know a bit about him! He wrote a fascinating book on the history of this town. Let me see…"

And so, you spent the next few minutes guiding Mr. Miller through the library archives, helping him locate the book he sought. You felt a strange sense of satisfaction, enjoying the opportunity to impress him with your knowledge.

You handed the book to Mr. Miller, a small smile playing on your lips. "Here you go, sir."

He took the book, his eyes lingering on you for a moment. "You seem to know your way around these old books," he commented, a hint of admiration in his voice.

"I guess I do," you shrugged, feeling a blush creep up your neck.

Mr. Miller seemed intrigued. "You mentioned something about losing a bet earlier?" he asked, his gaze curious. "Why do you lose these bets every morning?"

You hesitated, then decided to be honest. "I'm not really a morning person," you confessed, "I'm more of a night owl. And… well, Pedro… he's a bit lonely. He doesn't have much family, and I enjoy spending time with him. So, we made a deal. If I'm late, I help him with something around the school."

Mr. Miller looked at you, a thoughtful expression on his face. He seemed genuinely surprised. "That's… very kind of you," he said quietly.

"It's no big deal," you shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious under his intense gaze.

"Well," Mr. Miller said, a slow smile spreading across his face, "I think I'll make a bet with you too."

Your heart skipped a beat. "A bet?" you echoed, your voice trembling slightly.

Mr. Miller leaned closer, his eyes twinkling. "If you're on time to class for the rest of the week," he said, "I will buy you a little gift every day."

"Okay," you said, a mischievous glint in your eye. "No problem."

💓

The next few days were a rollercoaster of emotions. You were still prone to your occasional late arrivals to other classes, but you were determined not to let Mr. Miller down. You set multiple alarms, double-checked your schedule, and even resorted to sleeping with your backpack by the door.

Despite your best efforts, you almost tripped over your own feet rushing out the door one morning, convinced you were late for Mr. Miller's class. You arrived breathless, heart pounding, only to find him already there, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Made it," you panted, feeling a blush creep up your neck.

Mr. Miller raised an eyebrow. "Just barely," he observed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "But you made it."

That was most exciting week of your school year. Each day, Mr. Miller presented you with a small gift. On Monday, it was a beautifully illustrated book of poetry. On Tuesday, a box of the finest chocolates you'd ever tasted. Wednesday brought a small, intricately carved wooden bird, a reminder of your first encounter with Pedro.

You found yourself anticipating his class more and more each day, not just for the lesson, but also for the small surprise that awaited you. You even started arriving to class a few minutes early, just to savor the anticipation.

Then came Friday. You arrived to class on time, of course, and eagerly awaited your gift. Mr. Miller smiled, pulled a small bag from his briefcase, and handed it to you.

Inside, you found a colorful assortment of lollipops. You couldn't help but laugh. "Lollipops?" you asked, a playful smile on your face.

Mr. Miller shrugged. "A classic," he said, his eyes twinkling. "Besides," he added, leaning closer, "They're a reminder to always keep things sweet."

You felt a blush creep up your neck. Mr. Miller's words, and the unexpected gift, made your heart flutter. This week had been an unexpected adventure, filled with laughter, learning, and a growing sense of connection with your enigmatic teacher.

Chapter 3 Lollipop

You were deep in concentration, swirling your lollipop around in your mouth as you tackled a particularly challenging history question. You were so engrossed that you didn't notice Mr. Miller watching you.

When you finally looked up, you found him standing right in front of you, his eyes twinkling. He tapped his fingers lightly on your desk, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Come on," he said, "you have fifteen more minutes. Finish your test."

He returned to his desk, sitting down and turning to face you. "Miss… [Y/N]," he said, his voice a low rumble, "I think that… food isn't allowed in the class."

You quickly pulled the lollipop from your mouth, a loud "POP" echoing through the quiet classroom. "I-I apologize, Mr. Miller," you stammered, feeling your cheeks burn.

You stood up and quickly threw the lollipop in the trash bin. "I'm so sorry," you repeated,

"I didn't mean to… I wasn't paying attention."

Mr. Miller watched you, his expression unreadable. "It's not okay to waste food like that," he said, his voice firm but not unkind.

"I know," you mumbled, feeling a pang of guilt. "Those were my favorites, though."

"Well," Mr. Miller said, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"You should have finish that."

You felt a blush creep up your neck. Mr. Miller, your usually composed teacher, seemed a little flustered. You could clearly see him discreetly adjusting his pants with his left hand, and it was impossible to ignore the… bulge… beneath the fabric. Was he…was he having an erection?

You felt a mixture of shock, embarrassment, and an unexpected thrill.

You sat down, your entire body feeling like it was on fire. You tried to focus on your test, but your mind kept drifting back to Mr. Miller and his… adjustment.

You wondered if he noticed you noticing him.

As the class filed out, you handed your test to Mr. Miller and started to leave.

"Miss [Your Name]," he called out, his voice stopping you in your tracks.

"Can you stay for a moment? You missed something on your test."

You turned around, suddenly feeling a knot of nerves tighten in your stomach. You were alone in the classroom with him. "OMG, FUCK," you thought, your mind racing.

You approached his desk, trying to maintain your composure. He pointed to the top of the page. "You forgot to write your name."

Relief washed over you, followed by a wave of embarrassment. You quickly scribbled your name on the test, feeling your cheeks burn.

"Right," you mumbled, feeling awkward under his gaze.

Mr. Miller smiled, a slow and knowing smile that sent shivers down your spine. "Don't worry about it," he said, his voice low and husky. "Just… don't forget it next time."

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze lingering on you. You noticed a glint in his eyes, a playful challenge that made your breath catch in your throat.

As you reached to give back his pen to him, it slipped from his hand.

Your fingers brushed against his hand. A jolt, a spark, something electric passed between you. You quickly pulled back, your cheeks burning.

Mr. Miller looked at you, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Seems we're both a little clumsy today," he murmured, his voice husky.

Mr. Miller leaned down to reach it, but he seemed to miss it on purpose. The pen rolled further under the table, out of reach.

"I'm so sorry," you apologized, feeling your cheeks burn.

Mr. Miller chuckled. "No problem," he said, his voice low and husky. He tried to reach for it, but his long arms weren't quite long enough.

"Mind helping me retrieve it?" he asked, his eyes twinkling.

You hesitated for a moment, then slowly knelt down, peering under the table.

"Can you please move a little bit so I can go under the table reach it?" you asked.

Mr. Miller shifted slightly in his chair, making room for you to crawl underneath. As you reached for the pen, your head bumped against the table with a loud "Fuck!"

Mr. Miller chuckled. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You were on your knees in front of him, your head throbbing slightly. "I think so," you mumbled, feeling disoriented.

As you tried to stand up, you stumbled and instinctively grabbed onto his knees to steady yourself. You felt the hard muscles beneath his pants, and a jolt of awareness shot through you.

Mr. Miller's eyes widened slightly, and he froze, his hand hovering near your arm.

The air between you was thick with unspoken tension.

You looked at him. He took your hand in his guiding it towards his bulge in his pants. He was so hard. You gently squeeze him. He moaned, closing his eyes. Your heart pounding like crazy. He enjoyed in your touches. Then he opened his eyes looking at you saying

"See what you do to me Miss...", then he added "Come on, don't be afraid"

Your panties was already soaked. You unbuckled his belt pulling down his boxers. You took his huge cock in your tiny hand, slowly rubbing him on his tip with your finger. He let out low moan. You continued your movements along his length. You leaned down to his tip, licking it. His eyes were on yours.

He gently took your hair holding it with his hand. He says "Please put it in, I wanna feel your sweet mouth." And you did as he asked.

He growled for every your move, every twirling of your tongue. You could feel his cock twitched at your harder thrust. You were going deeper. Your saliva dripping down. When he was so close.

You heard some voices approaching from the hallway. You quickly pulled him out of your mouth. He hears that POP again.

"I'm sorry, I need to go," you said abruptly, feeling a sudden rush of adrenaline. You quickly gathered your things, your mind racing.

Mr. Miller watched you, a worried expression on his face. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low and concerned.

"Yes, I… I think I hear someone," you mumbled, feeling a strange sense of urgency.

You hurried out of the classroom, leaving Mr. Miller alone. He quickly stuffed his cock leaking with cum in his pants.

He stood up to the door his gaze following you as you disappeared down the hallway. You felt a strange mixture of excitement and apprehension as you walked away, the memory of the unexpected actions lingering in your mind.

You wondered if he would mention it later, or if it would simply remain an unspoken memory between you, and he wondered too.

💜

You arrived home feeling a whirlwind of emotions. The encounter with Mr. Miller had left you breathless, a strange mixture of excitement and apprehension swirling within you. You spent the next few minutes recounting the events of the afternoon in your mind, replaying every detail, every glance, every word.

To calm your racing heart, you decided to take a hot shower. Even under the warm water, you couldn't shake off the memory of his touch, his huge cock in your mouth. Why do I want it again so badly. You asked yourself. A wave of self-consciousness washed over you. You felt a little ashamed, a little giddy, a little… you didn't know what.

Just as you were starting to feel a little more grounded, your phone rang. It was Sarah.

"Hey! I'm coming over," she announced.

You smiled. Having Sarah around would be a welcome distraction.

Sarah arrived, and you two settled onto your bed, putting on some music. You laughed and joked, talking about your day.

Sarah, ever the inquisitive one, leaned forward, her eyes twinkling. "So, what happened with Mr. Miller today? Did you survive his terrifying glare?"

You blushed, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "Well, I forgot to put my name on the test," you admitted, trying to play it off casually.

Sarah's eyes widened. "Oh no! You didn't!" she exclaimed, her voice full of mock horror. "And I bet you were so flustered you could barely speak." She winked. "Knowing you, you were probably staring at him the whole time."

You blushed even harder, feeling a flutter in your stomach. "Maybe a little," you admitted, trying to hide a smile. You weren't going to tell her about the pen incident, and sucking his cock, not yet.

Sarah laughed, "You're hopeless! But you know, he seems like a pretty cool teacher."

You had to agree with her. Mr. Miller was definitely unlike any teacher you'd ever had before.

Suddenly, Sarah remembered something. "Hey, my uncle is looking for waitresses at his restaurant," she said excitedly. "You should apply! We could work together."

The idea intrigued you. You could help your mom with expenses and start saving for college.

"I'll talk to my mom," you said, your excitement growing.

At dinner, you told your mom about the job opportunity. She listened thoughtfully. "I know it will be hard with school and graduation coming up," she said, "but it could be a good experience for you."

You were determined to make it work. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but the thought of working alongside Sarah and helping your mom made it all worthwhile.

That evening, with Sarah gone, you were left alone with your thoughts. You couldn't stop thinking about Mr. Miller and your moment in the classroom. You felt a strange mix of passion, excitement, and a growing sense of… something more.

Inspired by your thoughts, you pulled out your notebook and started to write. You imagined a fantastical scenario where you and Mr. Miller were characters in a romantic novel, with so much sex scenes and falling deeply in love. You knew it was just a fantasy, a way to explore your feelings without facing the reality of the situation.

The next morning, you overslept again. Panic surged through you as you realized you were late for school. You quickly grabbed your books and rushed out the door, your mind still buzzing with thoughts of Mr. Miller and the fantastical world you had created in your notebook.

📖

"We are done for today," Mr. Miller announced, his voice a low rumble that seemed to fill the room. "We have about fifteen minutes left in class. Feel free to read something quietly if you'd like."

He moved to the front of the room, organizing his papers. You watched him, a strange warmth spreading through you. You had never noticed how broad his shoulders were, or how his hair seemed to curl slightly at the nape of his neck.

You couldn't shake off the memory of his moans, the way his eyes had held yours for that brief, intense moment.

As you reached into your backpack for a book to read, you accidentally bumped against your "DILFs" notebook. "Shit!" you muttered, scrambling to retrieve it before anyone else saw it.

Sarah, ever observant, noticed your panicked movements. "What was that?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

You tried to pull the notebook back, but it was too late. Sarah had already caught a glimpse of the title. "DILFs?" she exclaimed, bursting into laughter. "Oh my god, you did not!" She took the notebook.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "Please don't," you pleaded.

Sarah continued to giggle, shaking her head. "This is the best thing I've seen all week," she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement. You knew you were doomed.

Sarah opened the notebook, her eyes widening as she scanned the page. "Wow," she breathed, "This is so naughty girl! You have quite the imagination." "You need to get fucked as soon as possible" she says.

You blushed, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and a strange thrill. "Give it back" you mumbled, trying to snatch the notebook back.

Sarah, however, was already engrossed in the story. "Wait, let me read more!" she insisted.

Just then, Mr. Miller noticed your laughter and approached your table. "Everything alright here?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

"Oh, uh, just… girl talk," you stammered, feeling your cheeks burn.

Sarah, realizing Mr. Miller was approaching, quickly tucked the notebook under the table, her eyes wide with mischief.

Mr. Miller smiled. "Alright then," he said, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary.

You felt a shiver down your spine, your heart pounding a little faster.

The bell rang, signaling the end of class. You and Sarah rushed out, caught up in your own conversation and completely forgetting the notebook. You say to her "Dumbass he almost caught us." she laughed at you.

Mr. Miller was packing up his things when he noticed the notebook still tucked under the table. He picked it up, curious.

On the cover, in bold letters, it read: "DILFs." Mr. Miller's eyebrows shot up. He opened the first page, his curiosity piqued.

He quickly realized the notebook belonged to you. He packed it up in his suitcase.

📞

It was late at night. You were scrolling through your phone, mindlessly browsing social media, when your phone rang. You glanced at the screen, surprised to see an unknown number.

"Hello?" you answered cautiously.

"Hello, is it [Y/N]?" a familiar voice asked.

"Yes," you replied, your heart pounding slightly.

"This is Mr. Miller," he said.

"How did you get my number Mr Miller?" you ask.

Then he says "You forgot your notebook in class today."

Shit everything was writed there. Your phone number, address, all your fantasies about him. You taught. ⁰

You felt a jolt of panic. "Oh, my God! I did?"

"Yes," Mr. Miller chuckled. "I found it under the table after class."

You felt a blush creeping up your neck. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Miller. I completely forgot about it."

"I read a couple of the pages," Mr. Miller said, his voice a low rumble. "It has… interesting stories." He paused, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"I was wondering," he continued, "why is my name on your 'DILF' list?"

You felt like your heart stopped for a second. Shock, embarrassment, and a strange thrill washed over you. You were speechless.

"Are you having... fantasies about me?" Mr. Miller asked, his voice low and curious.

You felt your breath catch in your throat.

Mr. Miller's question hung heavy in the air. You felt a wave of dizziness, the world suddenly tilting on its axis.

Then he adds "I like these by the why. Come on answer me"

Then you admitted "Yes...Mr Miller"

Then he asks "Are you thinking about me when you are touching yourself?" He could hear you heavy breathing.

"Yes...Mr Miller" you say.

"Are you doing it right now"...Shit you taught. How he knows. That voice near your hear makes your heart pounding your pussy burning.

"Fuck...Yes! Mr Miller." You added "I'm thinking about your big dick in my mouth right now". You swear you could hear him whimpering and cursing. Shit he was masturbating too you though.

Then you ask him "What are you thinking right now Mr. Miller?" You let an loud moan to tease him.

You started roughly rubbing your clit, you were almost close. Thinking about Mr Miller inside you. You can hear him whimpering on the phone.

"I want to stuff that needy pussy with my cock little Miss [ Y/N]"

Then you let out loud moan. You feel your climax. Mr Miller on the phone whimpering, you imagine him fucking his fist. His huge cock. He was done too.

"Can I get back my notebook tomorrow Mr. Miller" you ask him. He says "Yes" with low voice. "And you will get something more tomorrow".

"See you tomorrow Mr. Miller," you said,

"See you miss," he replied, his voice a low rumble. "Goodnight, [Y/N]."

"Goodnight, Mr. Miller," you said, and then hung up the phone, your mind racing.

🥵

Tomorrow on Mr Ben class he was showing you your test grades. Everyone got good grades, even Sarah.

When Mr. Miller called your name, you approached his desk, your heart sinking as you saw the "F" glaring back at you. "WTF?" you thought, completely bewildered. You had studied so hard for this test and were certain you had aced it.

Mr. Miller noticed your confusion. "I'm concerned about your performance on this test, [Y/N]," he said, his voice gentle but firm.

"I think some extra help might be beneficial." He suggested you attend some after-school tutoring sessions to help you improve your grade.

"Mr. Miller," you said, "I really need to fix this grade.

Mr. Miller nodded. "Certainly," he said. "I'm available for a few minutes after classes if you'd like to go over it."

"Yes I will come" you say.

You waited nervously in the classroom, your heart pounding in your chest. Mr. Miller arrived a few minutes late, apologizing for the delay.

"I had a bit of… unexpected business to attend to," he said.

He moved towards your desk, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary.

Then you asked him about test. How did you get lowest grade.

You was feeling a knot of anxiety tightening in your stomach. "I don't understand," you said, "I was sure I got most of the questions right."

Mr. Miller leaned against the desk, his eyes fixed on yours.

"Actually," Mr. Miller said, a slow smile spreading across his face, "You got an A. You were brilliant." He paused, his gaze lingering on you. "But I wanted a few minutes with you to get your notebook back to you."

You stared at him, bewildered. "But… the F?"

Mr. Miller chuckled. "That," he said, "was some old test from another student," he explained, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

He reached for the notebook, his fingers brushing against yours as he handed it to you.

You felt a blush creep up your neck. "Oh," you stammered, feeling a mixture of relief.

Mr. Miller smiled, his yes crinkling at the corners. "You have quite the imagination," he said, a playful lilt to his voice. "Keep writing."

Mr. Ben pulled out a brightly colored lollipop from his jeans pocket,

"You mentioned before these were your favorites," he said with a mischievous glint in his eye. He carefully unwrapped the lollipop. Your heart pounding like crazy.

"Open your mouth, little miss," he whispers, his breath tickling your ear.

And you did as he commanded. You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue. He slapped your tongue with that sweet lollipop. Then he says "Suck it. I want to watch."

You licked that lollipop like it was his cock. He couldn't take his eyes of your mouth.

Then he leaned closer to your ear saying

"I might need to jerk myself off in the toilet after this."

You look at him, those puppies eyes looking at you.

"May I help you with that Mr Miller?"

He says with a smile "I would like to, but where my sweetheart?"

"I know the perfect secret spot. Follow me." You stood up, the lollipop still firmly planted in your mouth. You paused, a playful challenge in your voice, "Hurry up!"

Mr Ben, already intrigued, grinned and quickly gathered his things. He followed you down the hallway, his eyes wide with anticipation.

You led him to the library. Finally, you stopped in front of a seemingly ordinary bookshelf taking the key hidden in a book.

"Ready?" you asked, a slow smile spreading across your face.

Mr Ben nodded eagerly.

You unlocked a small old door, you opened them, revealing a small, cozy nook tucked away behind it.

"Get in" you announced, stepping inside.

The nook was surprisingly spacious, with a small table and chair. Sunlight streamed through a small window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air.

Ben stared in amazement. "Wow," he breathed, "This is incredible. How did you even know about this place?"

You shrugged, "A little secret I've been keeping to myself."

You got closer to Mr Ben saying to him pulling his tie and whispering him with tremble voice,

"May I suck your cock Mr Miller?"

He comes closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “Naughty girl, yes you can. My poor little miss been too cock drunk in my class."

“I’m gonna tell you what to do, and you will listen" he says as his large palm comes up to hold the column of your throat, his thumb just under your jaw, tilting you up to face him.

“Tell me you understand,” he commands, not really questioning.

"Yes I do Mr Miller" you say.

“Get on your knees, babygirl. You were dreaming about this don't you?" He ask. And you just nod.

As he releases you, you get on your knees. With your shaky hands you unbuckle his belt.

You tug both his pants and his underwear down just below his hips, and his thick length springs to attention..

FUCK you tough I'm gonna get choked.

You took him in your hands slowly you stroke along his length, feeling the heat, and the thick veins that add texture to each pass of your palm.

You part your lips and tease your tongue around and then start sucking on the tip, slowly taking more in until you’re sucking on the full head of his cock, and your tongue is whirling around it. His grip on the back of your neck tightens, and he gently moves his hips forward, urging you to take more of him.

“You look so pretty little miss, with your teacher’s cock down your sweet little throat,” you moan around him. “This what you wanted, hmm? Needed your throat fucked like a slut?”

“Tha’s it, just like that…” his groans are mixed with sounds of you gagging on his cock. You can hardly breathe, but you don't give up.

Then he pulls back and says "Sit on that chair and take off your shirt, I wanna see them." You managed to sit on the chair.

You quickly take off your shirt and bra, exposing your breast to him. He cupped them in his huge hands, then he leans closer putting his huge cock between them.

"Fuck" he moans as he continues to thrust his cock. He squeezes them so hard it almost hurts. His cock hitting in your chin. Then you opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue. As he cumms partly on your mouth and on your tit's.

Then he moved back saying "It's my turn Miss, I need to taste that sweet pussy. She must crave for me."

You just nodded. He says "Lay on the table babygirl."

He roughly takes off your pants, reaching for your panties saying "I'm keeping these."

He takes them off then he crouched down between your thighs. He asks "Have you ever did this?

"No Mr. Miller" you answered.

Then he adds "Glad I'm the first one eating this pussy."

And he did it. Like he was some hungry animal. He licked your clit, sucked it so hard you were breathless. He put his tongue in your entrance swirling inside. You were gripping for his huge arms. You let out loud moan and saying " Fuck! Mr Miller I'm gonna". Then he puts his finger inside you, his tongue rubbing your clit.

You screamed his name "Oohh Fuck Mr. Ben"

Then he stood up saying "Sweetest pussy I ever tasted." Then he leaned on and so gently kissed you. Cupping your face saying "You were so good, let's clean you up".

He gently cleaned you with wet wipes, when you told him "I'm gonna count this as birthday present Mr Ben."

"It's your birthday?" He asks you.

You told Mr. Ben, "It's tomorrow. It's my 19th birthday."

He raised an eyebrow. "19? You should be 18, right?"

"I missed a year in middle school," you explained. "I was sick for a while."

Mr. Ben nodded understandingly. "Oh, that makes sense. Well, happy early birthday then," he said with a smile. "Welcome to adulthood."

He paused, a playful glint in his eye. "No more sneaking out past curfew."

You laughed. "I haven't snuck out in years, Mr. Miller."

He chuckled. "Good to know." He then says "You will get better birthday present tomorrow." He winked at you. You smiled at him blushing. You were wondering what is he gonna give you.

As you finished with cleaning and dressing. You tried to sneak out of library. Then you say to him "Goodbye Mr. Miller"

"Thank you for the lollipop and the lesson"

He winked at you "Goodbye Miss don't be late tomorrow."

And you two went in different ways. This was best day ever you thought.

As you left school, you saw Sarah waiting for you outside. "Where have you been, girl? I've been looking for you!" she exclaimed.

"I was with Mr. Miller," you replied, "He gave me back my notebook."

Sarah's eyes widened. "Shit, you think he opened it?" she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper.

You shook your head. "I don't think so," you replied, trying to sound confident.

"He just… returned it." But you know he has read everything. Shit when you thought about things he was doing to you five minutes before. You just laughed.

Suddenly, Sarah gasped. "I saw Mr. Ben yesterday! With Miss Jenny!"

You were speechless. "Miss Jenny, the beautiful but notoriously boring math teacher?

"They were at that new Italian restaurant," Sarah continued, "holding hands. They looked… cozy."

"Wow," you breathed, surprised and little jealous.

"Yeah," Sarah added, "Miss Jenny is gorgeous, I'll give her that. But she's so… boring. And her math tests are impossible."

You had to agree with her on that.

🫦

Your mom came home from her night shift, and you were preparing dinner.

"How was school today?" she asked, her voice tired but warm.

"Great," you replied, stirring the pot.

"Any boys?" she teased, her eyes twinkling.

"No, Mom," you laughed. "I don't have time for that right now."

Your mom sighed. "I know, I know. You're always so busy with school and everything. I'm going to work the night shift again tomorrow."

A wave of sadness washed over you. You were going to be alone on your birthday.

"Don't worry," your mom said, noticing your expression. "I'll make it up to you. I promise to buy you the biggest cake I can find."

You smiled, feeling a little better. A cake would definitely make your birthday a little brighter.

🎀

It was your birthday, and you were already running late for school. You'd spent the morning getting ready, wanting to look your best. You'd even put on the beautiful dress your mom had bought you and your favorite sneakers.

As you rushed out the door, you bumped into Pedro in the hallway. "Happy Birthday, Miss," he teased, grinning.

"Thanks, Pedro," you replied, "I'm so late!"

You hurried down the hall, your heart pounding. You were already imagining Mr. Miller's stern expression and the inevitable lecture about punctuality.

"I'm so fucked up," you muttered to yourself, your anxiety rising.

You knocked on the door and slowly opened it, your heart pounding in your chest. Mr. Ben looked at you with a stern expression.

"You are late again, Miss," he said, his voice firm. "That's not permissible and certainly not nice."

He stood up, his voice booming across the classroom. "Be quiet, everyone, while I deal with this."

He turned back to you, his expression serious.

"You are going to the principal's office right now. I can't tolerate this behavior anymore."

You felt a wave of panic wash over you. You knew you were in trouble, but you hadn't expected such a harsh reaction.

He left the classroom with you, gripping your arm and leading you through the hallway. You looked at him little scared your heart beating like crazy "I'm so sorry Mr. Miller".

He doesn't respond until he got to teacher's male bathroom. He checked if there is anybody. Pulling you inside quickly and locking the door.

Then he turned to you. You look at him and he was smiling. He grabbed you so tight, pulling you so close to him you could felt his heartbeat. He kissed you so needy and rougly.

He pulled back saying. "You look so sexy in that dress little miss." "Is that for me huh?"

You say "Yes, Mr Miller."

He pulled up your dress with his left hand squeezing your buttcheek. With right hand he still holds your face.

He kissed you again, this time with a passion that bordered on desperation. Then he kissed your neck, his lips trailing a path of fire across your skin.

He crouched down on his knees, lifting your dress. Slowly pulling your panties down, he looked at you.

You just muttered "Fuck".

He began to lick you, his tongue tracing a path from you clit to your inner thighs. You moaned, your right hand gripping his hair, with left hand you hold to his shoulder. Your legs started to shake, your moans are louder now.

He stopped looked at you "Be quiet miss." You answered "Yes....sir."

"You taste so good," he whispered, his voice rough with desire. He continues his licking on your clit, fucking your hole with one finger.

You overwhelmed with pleasure, clung to him. After he finished, he looked at you. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen – your face flushed, your eyes glazed over with pleasure, a contented sigh escaping your lips.

He knew, with a certainty that shook him to his core, that he was in love with you. He wanted to spend the rest of his life making you feel this way.

He smiled, his heart overflowing with a happiness. "Happy Birthday little miss," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

He stood up, you told him "Thank you Mr. Ben." Then he told you "It was my pleasure, we should get back to class."

You nodded saying "Yes Mr. Ben" He took your hand, unlocked the door. He checked if there was anybody. You left back to the classroom.

You returned to your seat, feeling a little shaken. Sarah noticed your blushed face and wide eyes. "What happened?

You took a deep breath, "I… I got a warning from Mr. Miller."

Sarah's eyes widened. "Oh no! You didn't!"

Sarah shook her head, "Mr. Miller is usually pretty chill. What did he say?"

You hesitated, not wanting to dwell on the encounter. "Just… a warning. No big deal."

You spent rest of the class thinking how that man was eating you. God you love him so much. Everytime he had a chance when nobody was looking at him, he would gaze at you, with that playful smile.

🎂

The evening of your birthday arrived, and a wave of loneliness washed over you. Your mom was working her night shift, and Sarah was out on a date. You felt a pang of sadness as you realized you'd be spending your birthday alone.

Suddenly, your phone rang. You looked at the caller ID – it was Mr. Ben. You felt a jolt of surprise.

You hesitated for a moment, then answered. "Hello, Mr. Miller?"

"Good evening, [Y/N]," Mr. Miller's voice was warm a.nd friendly. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, thank you," you replied, "A little lonely, to be honest."

"Ah, I see," Mr. Miller said understandingly.

"It's your birthday, isn't it? That's not right. You should be out celebrating."

"Yeah," you sighed. "Everyone else is out having fun."

"Well," Mr. Miller said, his voice a little hesitant, "I want to bring you your birthday present." Then you hear some women voice calling him. It must be Miss Jenny. He says "Just a minute" You were put on hold. Shit you murmured.

Mr Ben room 📞

Miss Jenny opened the bathroom door asking Mr Ben "Who's calling you this late?

He says "Oh It's my friend Joel, his tire went flat he needs my help." He get up started to dress up. "I'm gonna get back soon".

She says to him, little mad " Oh come on we supposed to have romantic night".

He says "Later maybe I need to go".

He get's dressed and he took his phone.

You hung up call, couldn't wait any longer. But he calls you again.

"Yes Mr Ben" you answer.

"I hope so you didn't fall asleep, I'm on my way to your house." "Is it adress from the notebook? he asks you.

"Yes it is, Mr Ben." You just confirmed.

"Okay, see you soon" he hung up.

Then your mind go crazy. Shit he is on the way to my house. You quickly take a shower. You put on a white tank top with no bra on, and shorts. Yes you wanna tease him little bit. Little bit a perfume and you combed hair. Then you hear the doorbell. Your heart skipped a beat. He is finally here. You rushed to open the door.

And there he is, in black shirt with his glasses on and a most beautiful smile.

"Good evening Miss" he greeted you.

"Good evening Mr Ben, please come in."

You guided him to the living room. And he was holding small box. Then he handed you a box saying with warm smile "I got you a birthday cake."

You were touched by his gesture. "Thank you, Mr. Ben," you said, "This is so kind of you."

Mr. Ben smiled. "You're welcome. We could eat it together." "Of course." You say.

While you were eating a cake, his eyes never left yours. He had that mischievous smile. Then he asks you "Why are you alone on your birthday?"

You answer "Well my mom is at night shift at work, my bestfriend is on a date."

And then he asks "And your Dad?" You say sadly "I have never met him, he left us when I was baby." Mr Ben felt sad for you "I'm sorry"..

Then you say "Well lucky me I got you here tonight Mr Ben."

He adds "I will be there for you always."

Then he asked you curious "Why do you like me Miss?" You answered with a smile "You are handsome, nice and you are Zaddy!"

He laughed so hard on that compliment. "Thank you Miss" he adds "So do you just like older men or you have daddy issues?"

You answered with a laugh "Both Mr Miller, and I like you a lot"

You gently kissed him, a soft flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

Then he says to you "I got one more present for you."

"You have one more present for me?" you whispered, your voice soft.

He smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Just a little something extra." He handed you a small, velvet box. With trembling fingers, you lifted the lid. Inside, nestled on a bed of silk, lay a breathtaking necklace. A delicate silver chain held a tiny, exquisitely crafted butterfly, its wings shimmering with a thousand tiny facets.

You gasped, speechless. It was perfect. "Mr Ben..." you breathed, your voice thick with emotion. "It's... it's beautiful."

He leaned in and kissed you again, a long, slow kiss that spoke volumes. "Happy Birthday, Miss" he murmured against your lips.

Tears welled up in your eyes. You pulled back, slipping the necklace around your neck. It felt light as a feather, yet somehow, incredibly precious. "Thank you, Mr Ben," you whispered, your voice choked with gratitude. "Thank you for everything."

You felt a surge of happiness, a warmth that spread through you like sunshine. This was the best birthday ever.

He smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"I told you I had a presents for you." He leaned down and whispered, "I saved the best for last."

You felt your breath catch in your throat. "There's more?" you asked, a shiver running down your spine.

He chuckled, his eyes full of warmth. "Just wait and see."

He lifted you gently, your legs wrapping involuntarily around his waist. You felt a surge of dizziness, a mixture of excitement and passion. He carried you to the bedroom, his touch surprisingly gentle.

He gently laid you down on the bed, the soft sheets a welcome contrast to the cool air. You felt a flutter of nerves, this was your first night together.

He leaned over you, his gaze intense. "Are you ready for the final surprise?" he whispered, his breath fanning your face.

You could only nod, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. He leaned down and kissed you, a slow, tender kiss that ignited a fire within you.

🎀

He knew you were a virgin, and he was incredibly gentle. He slowly began to undress you, kissing your neck and trailing kisses down your chest. "Don't be afraid," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. "I'll be gentle. If you feel uncomfortable at any point, just tell me, and I'll stop."

You felt a mixture of nerves and excitement. You wanted him, you wanted him so badly.

"I... I want you too, Mr. Ben," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He smiled, a tender expression in his eyes. "Good, and please call me Ben" he murmured, his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss.

He continued to undress you slowly, his touch lingering, exploring every inch of your skin. You felt a wave of sensations, a mixture of fear and anticipation, but mostly, an overwhelming desire for him.

He moved slowly, tenderly, checking in with you every step of the way. "Is this okay?" he asked softly, his eyes searching yours.

You nodded, unable to speak. You were lost in the moment, consumed by the feeling of his touch, the warmth of his breath against your skin.

This was your first time, and it was everything you had ever dreamed of.

He gently removed your panties, revealing you completely to him. He leaned down and began to gently lick your clit, his tongue swirling around it. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "I'm going to stretch you out a little bit, okay?"

You nodded, breathless. He was so gentle, so considerate. He slowly inserted his finger inside you, and you moaned, arching your back against him. He continued to explore you slowly, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

He leaned back, his eyes searching yours. "Are you ok?" he asked softly.

"Yes," you whispered, "Please continue."

He began to slowly push his tip inside you. You twitched, a mixture of pleasure and a sharp pain. He paused, his eyes filled with concern. "I know baby, it hurts..you will be alright" he says.

"Ok, please go on," you urged, "it feels… amazing."

He slowly increased the pressure, his movements deliberate and controlled. "Oh baby," he groaned, "you're so tight, you take me so well." He leaned down and kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "Condom," you whispered.

He says "Oh no baby I wanna feel you, I wanna cum inside this pussy." He growled pushing harder inside you. "Oohh...shit!" you scream "Fuck me Daddy" his cock twitched by your words.

He continued his thrust more fast and harder. His kisses trailed down your neck.

You clung to his shoulders, breathless.

'Fuck, you feel so good,' you whispered, your voice hoarse. 'So big.'

He groaned, his movements intensifying.

"Oh fuck, this is the best pussy I've ever had,' he growled, his words muffled against your skin.

As you reached your peak, you tightened around him, urging him on.

You both reached a crescendo, a wave of pleasure washing over you both. He pulled back, his eyes filled with love.

"Look at that, that's pussy is mine now. Understand that? You confirmed his words

"Yes Mr Ben I'm only yours."

"I love you," he breathed, his voice hoarse.

You smiled, your heart overflowing. "I love you too, Ben," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

You lay there for a while, wrapped in each other's arms, the afterglow of passion still lingering. It was a moment of pure bliss, a feeling of intimacy and connection that you had never experienced before. You knew this was just the beginning of something truly special.

Suddenly, the memory of your mother returning home hit you like a wave. "Oh no," you whispered, "my mom will be home soon."

Mr Ben's face fell. "I have to go," he said, his voice laced with concern. He gently kissed you, a lingering touch that spoke volumes. "I got you this," he said, handing you a small, discreet package. "Plan B. Just take it as soon as possible."

You watched him get dressed, a knot of sadness tightening in your chest. You knew he had to go, but the thought of being without him already felt unbearable. You found a glass of water and swallowed the pill, the bitter taste a stark reminder of the fleeting nature of the moment.

As you listened to the sound of his footsteps fading down the stairs, you felt a wave of loneliness wash over you. It had been the most incredible night, but it was over far too soon.

Chapter 5 You really love me

The rhythmic clatter of dishes and the low murmur of conversation filled the air of the bustling restaurant. You were working the night shift, a familiar routine to earn extra money for college. And you want to help your mom with expenses. Your friend Sarah, a constant source of both support and distraction, worked alongside you.

Suddenly, you spotted a familiar face. Miss Jenny, your high school math teacher, was seated at a table, her expression thoughtful as she waited for someone. The memory of her strict demeanor and challenging equations briefly flashed through your mind.

Jake, Sarah's cousin, a fellow waiter, approached Miss Jenny with a practiced charm. Older than you, Jake had a reputation for being flirtatious, but he wasn't your type. You love Mr Ben, and right now you are thinking about him. You miss him so much.

Sarah told you about Jake. "He's involved in secret relationship with an older woman," she whispered to you.

You were deep in thought, replaying the memories of the previous night with Mr. Ben, when the restaurant doors swung open and he walked in.

Your heart leaped, but then your eyes followed his gaze as he made his way directly to Miss Jenny's table. He greeted her with a warm smile, and the way he leaned in to listen intently made your stomach clench. He seemed genuinely interested, even captivated by her.

A wave of jealousy washed over you. You felt a pang of hurt – he was here, at the restaurant where you worked, spending time with another woman.

Determined to distract yourself, you approached their table, "Good evening, what can I get for you?" you asked, your voice carefully neutral.

Ben looked surprised, a flicker of guilt crossing his features. Miss Jenny, seemingly oblivious to the undercurrent of emotions, placed her order.

As you walked away, you glanced back at their table. Miss Jenny left to the restroom. Ben was left alone, his attention focused on his phone. You noticed him typing a message. Your heart sank. He was texting someone.

A few moments later, your phone buzzed. It was a message from Mr. Ben:

📨"I miss you. You look beautiful tonight."

Anger bubbled up inside you. He was with another woman, yet he was sending you flirtatious messages. You felt a surge of hurt and confusion. Unable to bear the tension any longer, you excused yourself to take out the trash, needing the fresh air to clear your head.

You were walking past the women's restroom when you witnessed an unexpected sight: Miss Jenny and Jake, fucking in the restroom. They were kissing deeply, their bodies intertwined. You were both, surprised and a little angry.

You hurried back to Ben's table, your voice trembling slightly. "Your… girl… Miss Jenny, she's in the restroom… with a waiter… having sex."

Ben's face paled. "What?!" he exclaimed, his voice sharp with disbelief.

He sprang to his feet, a furious expression on his face, and stormed towards the restroom.

You followed at a distance, your heart pounding. You heard his voice, loud and angry, echoing from within the restroom.

"Jenny! Really? While I was at the table waiting for you?"

A moment of stunned silence followed, then Jenny's voice, laced with apology, "I… I'm so sorry, Ben. I don't know what came over me."

Ben's voice was cold and dismissive.

"Stop. We are done. Don't come to my house anymore. I don't want to see you."

Jake, who had been holding Jenny's hand, pulled her away from Ben. "Let him go," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "You don't need him. You are mine."

You watched in surprise as Jenny, seemingly dazed, allowed Jake to lead her away. You were shocked by Ben's reaction. He had been so furious, so hurt, yet he remained surprisingly calm. He turned to you, his eyes filled with a strange mixture of disbelief and resignation.

Ben took your hand, his touch surprisingly gentle. "When is your shift over?" he asked, his voice still a little rough but with a hint of warmth returning to his eyes.

"In about 15 minutes," you replied, surprised by his sudden change in demeanor.

"Good," he said "Can you come with me?"

You agreeded, telling Sarah you are going home with Mr Miller.

Sarah told you "Go ahead and have some fun." She'll cover for you.

You were stunned. "Come on, let's go," he said, he took your hand.

You quickly gathered your stuff and followed him out of the restaurant. He opened the passenger door of his car for you, a small gesture that made your heart flutter.

As he started driving, you couldn't help but ask, "How…how were you so calm back there?"

He glanced at you, a small smile playing on his lips. "I came here tonight to break up with her," he admitted. "She made it easier for me. I knew she was cheating on me. I found out last week." He looked at you, his eyes intense. "I only love you, little Miss. That's all that matters. I only want to be with you."

Your heart soared. You leaned over and kissed him, a long, passionate kiss that spoke volumes.

"Where are we going?" you asked, your voice soft.

"To my place," he replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You quickly called Sarah, letting her know you were going to Mr Ben house. If your mom calls her, she need to tell you are with her at sleepover. Then you called your mom, explaining that you were staying with Sarah.

As Ben continued to drive, he leaned over and kissed you again. You felt a wave of happiness wash over you. It had been a crazy night, but it had ended on the most perfect note.

❤️

When you arrived at Ben's house, he offered you something to drink and a small snack. You accepted gratefully, still buzzing from the adrenaline of the evening's events. He led you to his bedroom, the air thick with anticipation.

This time, the passion was different. It was raw, intense, overflowing with the pent-up desire and the relief of finally being together. He was more passionate than before, yet still incredibly gentle and caring. He sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes burning with desire as he watched you approach. "Come here babygirl, I want you to ride me."

Taking a deep breath, you climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. You put inside his thick and huge cock with your right hand.

Shit you taught. Just the tip is making you go crazy.

When he was deep inside you, you began to move slowly, feeling his hands guiding you, encouraging you. He groaned softly, his eyes closed in pleasure. "You're so good at this,little Miss" he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

Then he gently shifted, guiding you beneath him. His movements were more forceful now, more demanding, but you welcomed the change. The intensity of his touch ignited a fire within you. You arched your back, your nails digging slightly into his shoulders.

"Mr Ben!" you cried out, your voice strained with pleasure. You buried your face in the pillow, biting your arm to stifle the sounds that threatened to escape. "Yes… Fuck me harder… Sir…" you whispered, the word "Sir" slipping out unconsciously, a playful echo of his earlier teasing.

He groaned, his voice rough with desire. "You are taking me so well, Miss," "This pussy is made for me" he murmured, his breath hot against your ear.

You felt a surge of pleasure, while he was more deeper inside you. This was your night, your moment, and you were savoring every second of it.

He gently slapped your ass cheeks, his hands firm but not harsh. He grabbed them, teasing you, pulling them slightly apart before bringing them back together.

"Fuck Mr. Miller!" you cried out, your voice hoarse with pleasure. "Ohhh, what are you doing to me?"

He groaned, his breath hot against your ear.

"I love you, babygirl," he murmured. "You are mine now and forever."

And in that moment, you knew he meant it.

You arched your back, gasping as you neared your climax.

Then, he released, cumming on your ass.

Afterwards, he gently helped you clean up, leading you to the bathroom and running a bath for you both. He washed you tenderly, his touch gentle and loving.

Exhausted but content, you both climbed into bed, falling asleep in each other's arms, the lingering warmth of passion still enveloping you.

You woke up to the delicious smell of pancakes. Groaning softly, you opened your eyes and saw Ben in the kitchen, flipping pancakes on the griddle. A smile spread across your face.

You crept up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist. "Good morning," you murmured, kissing his neck.

He turned around, a wide grin on his face. "Good morning, sleepyhead," he replied, kissing you back. "Pancakes are almost ready."

As you ate breakfast, you felt a warmth spread through you. Ben was so kind, so considerate.

"I need to take you home," he said after a while, his expression serious. "And I need to talk to your mom. I don't want to hide anything from her."

You hesitated. "I don't know, Ben. It could be risky for your job."

He took your hand, his gaze intense. "I know," he said, "but I can't live a lie. I'll find another job, in another city if I have to. But I won't let fear dictate our lives."

His words touched you deeply. You realized that with Ben, you could face any challenge, no matter how daunting.

Ben and you arrived at your house, your heart pounding against your ribs. Your mom was surprised to see you, her eyebrows raised in a mixture of concern and amusement.

"Mr Ben, this is my mother," you introduced, your voice slightly trembling.

Mr Ben stood up and shook your mother's hand, his smile warm and genuine. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. [Your Last Name]," he said.

The conversation flowed surprisingly well. You sipped on coffee, enjoying the easy banter between Mr Ben and your mother. He was charming and articulate, answering her questions with honesty and sincerity.

Then, he said it. "I love your daughter, Mrs. [Y/L/N]," he said, his gaze unwavering.

"And I want to be in a serious relationship with her."

Your mother was visibly shocked.

"You… you love her?" she stammered, her eyes wide. "He's a bit old for you, you know."

You took a deep breath. "Mom, I love him too."

Your mother looked from you to Mr Ben and back again, her expression a mixture of concern and apprehension. "I… I just don't want to see my daughter get hurt," she admitted. "I don't want her to be used and heartbroken."

Ben reached across the table and took your hand.

"I understand your concern, Mrs. [Your L/N]," he said, his voice sincere. "But I assure you, that will never happen. I am serious about her. I want to marry her, when she's ready."

Your mother looked at you, her eyes searching your face. You smiled, your heart overflowing with love and happiness. You knew, with a certainty that settled deep within your soul, that this was the beginning of something truly special.

💖

Graduation day was a whirlwind of emotions. The pomp and circumstance, the cheers of friends and family, the thrill of finally crossing that stage – it was all a bit overwhelming. But then, amidst the celebratory buzz, you spotted him – Mr Ben, standing tall and proud, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand.

Your mom was beaming beside him, her eyes filled with pride.

As you approached, Mr Ben stepped forward, his eyes sparkling. "You did it," he said, his voice filled with admiration. "I'm so incredibly proud of you."

He handed you the flowers, their fragrance filling the air. You thanked him, your heart pounding.

Then, he did it. He knelt down on one knee, the bouquet forgotten at his feet.

"Y/N," he began, his voice trembling slightly,

"I've loved you since the moment I met you. You are the most amazing woman I know, kind, intelligent, and beautiful inside and out. You make me a better man. Will you do me the incredible honor of becoming my wife?"

A gasp rippled through the crowd. Your mom's jaw dropped. You, however, were speechless. Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, his face etched with love and sincerity.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Yes, Ben, yes!"

He slid a stunning ring onto your finger, then pulled you into a passionate kiss. Cheers erupted from the crowd, but you were oblivious to everything except the warmth of his lips and the overwhelming joy that surged through you.

You and Mr. Ben moved to the new city, a fresh start for your new life together. He found a job teaching at a local high school, and you landed a position at a nearby bookstore and attended the college. Life was good. You were happy, building a life together, exploring your new surroundings.

Then, two years into your new life, you discovered you were pregnant. Ben was overjoyed, his face beaming with delight. He was incredibly supportive throughout your pregnancy, helping with chores, cooking delicious meals, and attending every doctor's appointment with you.

Finally, your baby boy arrived, a tiny bundle of joy who filled your lives with laughter and love. Ben was a natural with him, changing diapers, playing silly games, and showering him with affection.

One evening, as you watched your son play with his father on the living room floor, a wave of contentment washed over you. "I love you, Ben," you whispered, leaning in to kiss him.

He smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Love you too, Miss," he replied, pulling you close. "I'm glad that day, all those years ago, you bumped into me." And you say "I'm glad that I was late to the class that morning."

You held him tight, feeling a deep sense of gratitude for the life they had built together – a life filled with love, laughter, and the promise of a bright future.

Thank you for the reading 💜

Please like, reblog and comment ❣️

I apologize for any writing mistakes, my native language is not English.

[according2thelore]

Random question about some ABO verse, but do you think that they'd have something like a sex-ed class during middle/high school?

Like, just imagine Sammy (a bit weirded out) but so amazed that his big brother (O!Dean) has these "innate" abilities to be naturally "perfect" caregivers/companions, wayyyyy better than their "Alpha" dad who just dumps them and disappears days/weeks on end just to go "hunting with friends".

Idk, I like to imagine Sam going into a rabbit hole and reading up on whatever reading materials were available at school/the public library and eventually tries to find some law books after hearing about some changes in omega related legislation.

Anyway I'm just ranting at this point hahaha!

(Just ignore this ask if it's not something you're interested in 👍👍👍)

hi, anon!!!

NOT SOMETHING I'M INTERESTED IN????!?!?!??? this is EXACTLY what i'm interested in, anon!! thank you so much for sending it in!!!!!

let's TALKKKKKKKKK about baby sam PLEASEEE

something i have ALWAYS adored is the idea that sam, when he's young and right in that sweet spot after dean presents as an omega but before sam presents, he wants to be an omega so bad. like. sooooo bad.

his only real alpha influence in his life is his father, and we all know how he feels about his father and his "my-way-or-the-highway" mentality. john says something and expects you to hop-to it, because his word is law. bobby's a beta, and the only other alphas sam ever spends time around is the occasional teacher and caleb, when they end up in the same state and dad needs help on a hunt.

then dean presents, and everything about his little life changes. dean becomes even more protective of him than he thought possible. john pulls him aside and tells him that he and sam are going to have to keep an extra eye out for dean, because people might treat him differently.

despite this, john becomes more distant than ever as they become teenagers and he can leave them alone without raising too many eyebrows or risk them killing themselves like when they were ten and six.

when sam hits sixth grade, his teachers awkwardly announce that this is the first year they'll have a secondary designation class, and all of the kids titter awkwardly. a kid in sam's class has already presented, an alpha with burgeoning pimples on the baseball team.

sam has more context for dean's presentation, why he went still and shocked and why his smell was bad-bad-wrong-new-not-dean before it became fully dean again--fresh and calming and warm. he learns that there isn't really a way to predict what someone will present as, despite the playground taunts and characters in TV shows that insist they always knew someone was one-thing-or-another because of how they acted or dressed.

sam learns that omegas tend to be more naturally nurturing, and how they make nests when they're approaching heat. they're ferociously protective, especially over pups, and they are happiest and have the highest satisfaction rates if they have a strong community.

alphas are natural leaders. alphas are innate protectors, headstrong, and fiercely loyal. alphas scent their pups or mate or packmates to make sure they can go about their business unbothered, and butt heads with other alphas when challenged. alphas are supposed to make sure everyone in their pack is healthy, happy, and most importantly, safe.

sam can't stop his lip curling in disgust. their dad can usually only manage one or two out of three; he hits all three maybe five times a year.

sam's starting to realize that dean is kind of the perfect older brother. and kind of a perfect omega. despite the fact he's still kind of a dick. (sam bitterly remembers this morning when dean flipped the mattress because sam was going to make them late for school.)

sam--resentfully--can't remember the last time dad even tried to scent him or dean before he left for weeks at a time, while sam can still smell some of dean's open air-sunshine-musky scent on his own wrists from dean wrestling him near the door and doing his daily scenting.

it would be so nice, sam starts to think, as he reads about how omegas tend to form incredibly tight personal bonds, and how alphas always butt heads, if he presented as an omega, too. alphas are kind of lunk-heads anyway. he and dean could be the same. the thought fills him with a bubble of buoyant hope that he can't pop, all the way home.

he doesn't tell dean any of this, embarrassed in his fantasies of them running away together and starting a completely new life away from john and his abandonment and mission. maybe even...his ears flush, and he buries his face in his math book to hide his pink ears from dean--helping each other through heats. sam knows what dean smells like when he's in heat. since he's still unpresented, he's in charge of bringing dean food and water and making sure he doesn't die. dean has pulled him more than once into his nest for comfort, sam pressing his perpetually-cold fingers against dean's feverish forehead as dean's head lolled. it's been entirely familial. regretfully so. it would be...nice. really nice. if they could grow up and experience that together.

even if he was a beta, sam could be happy. he could still help dean through his heats, if dean was okay with that. they could still have a fully completed pack-bond, instead of the faint pup one they have now.

he becomes obsessed with omega laws--digging into books and city hall ledgers for hours. one time, a guy corners a seventeen-year-old dean in a gas station and sam--still completely unpresented--almost rips the guy's head off. dean absolutely had it covered, as he keeps snapping at sam the entire way back to the motel, but sam is still buzzing with rage that people are going to do this to dean--treat him like this--forever.

and then sam presents as an alpha, aged fourteen. a late bloomer.

he's devastated. dean pets his hair away from his forehead, stringy with sweat, and sits on the ground outside of the closed motel door throughout sam's entire rut. he parks the car right in front of the door and barely sleeps to make sure no one gets close to their motel room, since dad has been gone for the last week and a half. keeping him safe. an innate, natural protector. an instinctual caregiver.

sam cries into his pillow, even as he feels like his skin is going to peel off his bones, because he and dean will never be the same thing, now.

he knows dean's quietly upset, too. he thinks he failed dad in some way, by not being an alpha. the fact that sam doesn't find a ton of joy in being just like their asshole dad doesn't bring dean a lot of comfort. dean wants to be just like dad, wants to make him proud.

sam couldn't give a shit about making dad proud.

he stays devastated, until his civics class in freshman year. their unit on omega laws sets an absolute fire under his ass. omegas are just as capable as alphas. dean--who can gut a drower in ten seconds and has been stepping between his and dad's constant fighting more and more every single day (even if it's just to throw sam back on his ass, and despite the fact sam knows having two alphas dean feels loyalty for coming to blows and giving off all kinds of commanding and acerbic pheromones is a biological warhead for dean), and loves spaghetti westerns and can drink anyone under the table and has shed gallons of blood over the years to keep sam safe--is better than three of his alpha dad put together.

alphas are supposed to be protectors. they're supposed to keep others safe. and if sam has to be like this, he's going to harness it to help.

he can't stop looking up case law, can't stop researching legal precedent, and civic lawyers who represent omegas in court. he turns in a paper on Trent v Polaski for his AP government class, and his teacher asks if he's ever considered going to law school.

sam feels something hot and sharp and terrifying take root in his chest.

EEK!! i just love this ask, anon! i hope this was what you were looking for, but if not, PLEASE send another, lol! i love talking about omegaverse wincest, clearly!!! thank you again for this ask!! mwah mwah mwah <3

-lizzy

[jubileesstuff]

Know that Nico has new paperwork (thanks Barbara); he goes to school. Bruce realizes that there is a problem, well, multiple problems. The last time Nico actually went to a school, or something that's like a school, was in the 30s/40s. School now is different. Nico's ADHD and dyslexia that come with being a demigod don't help at all. Then there are the other students; Nico knows himself that children can be brutal (he lives together with Damian Wayne; he knows the Aphrodite Kids), but nothing prepared him for this. He has to be 7+ hours in a room with 20 or more kids. They use words that Nico doesn't understand; hell, he just learned what a microwave is and how to use it. His classmates use words like sigma, Ohio, Rizz, slay, or lmao. When he asked where these words are from and what the meaning is, they looked at him weirdly and asked if he doesn't have social media. That is the next thing he doesn't know.

Well, no, he knows about social media but does not have it. Why? Demigods and phones, or generally technology, are not the best mix. Tim and Barbara give him a presentation on Internet slang and what everything means. The problem is, they also don't know everything.

Barbara is more generational, lmao, lol, idk, iykyk, and smh. And Tim is too busy running a company and being Red Robin to learn the new slang teenagers have come up with. Nico can't ask Damian; he talks more like Nico's grandparents in Italy than a teenager in modern times. Bruce and Alfred are too old; the same goes for Jason and Dick. Cass probably also doesn't know. He could ask Duke or Steph. But Nico is too afraid to ask Steph. She will teach him stuff he never wants to know.

The last time Nico asked Stephanie something, she explained what fanfiction is. Fanfiction is something nice, but what came after fanfiction is something he wants to forget. She explained in detail what the Omegaverse is. He really, reallllyyy didn't want to know about that.

However, not only is slang a problem, but modern technology is a general problem. When someone asked if they should add Nico to a group chat for this class, he was confused. First he was like, 'Is this an after-school club?'

His classmates are convinced that Bruce Wayne has a strict 'No Technologyrule because Damian isn't that much better. Obviously everyone knows Damian Wayne; they all know that he also has no clue about slang or certain social media things. So the entire school (teachers included) is convinced Bruce Wayne is a strict parent.

One day, during a history lesson, Nico gets into trouble at school. It's the first time ever. The teacher talked about the time before the Second World War. They focused on Italy and America's relationship with Italy at the time. The teacher said something incorrect, and Nico corrected it. It became a full argument because the teacher obviously doesn't know that Nico was alive back then. Even if he was a small child, he still remembers stuff. He gets sent to the principal, where Bruce picks him up.

At dinner he gets asked by Dick, who is visiting, what that was about. After he explained it, the teacher said something incorrect about Italy and history; Dick asked how he knew that.Nico answered, "You know that I was alive back then."

[spiritusmuses]

Calvin paced for a bit, and then he frowned when Wren didn't come out. Calvin liked Wren more then some cheap whore, he knew why his ex-wife said it she was protecting their son if something went south but Calvin opened himself up again to someone and that someone unfortunately had to be his son's teacher.

Cal: I am sorry about Harper. Please can we talk if you have the time?

Wren went into the bathroom, her breath heavy like she was hyperventilating. She was hunched over the sink, trying really hard not to blow chunks when Tanya came in. “Hey, what are you doing? What happened?” She asked her. Wren shook her head, wetting her hand with cold water and patting her forehead. “Oh, you know. Harper just accused me of Nate being my favorite student because I’m fucking her ex husband.” Closing her eyes, she couldn’t get her face out of her head.

Tanya frowned, moving to rub Wren’s back. “Just put yourself in her shoes.” She said to her, which Wren nodded. “Oh, I totally understand why she did said it. I probably would’ve done the same thing. It was just humiliating. She looked at me like I was some… whore.” She let out a huff, looking at herself on the mirror to make sure her makeup wasn’t smudged. “I don’t know how I’m going to go back out there.”

[ink-stainedkiss]

Peace

Synopsis: Life is full of chaos, stress, and anxiety. It helps when you have just a moment of peace with your favorite boys.

Pairing: Geto x Reader x Gojo

A/N: Just a cute fluff rq before my trip, also i will be getting “The Other Woman” Pt4 out tonight!❤️

*any homophobia/hateful comments or messages will be shamed first then removed. I do not condone any sort of harassment*

Word Count: 2.1k

Being a college student meant waking up early and preparing yourself for upcoming lessons that were extremely long. The months had flown by and now you were about a week away from your first semester ending. With December came midterms, something you were not excited about. Between tests, solo projects, and restless nights spending the hours studying, it was hard for anyone on campus to find some peace. Thankfully, you have two people to share this feeling with and you all found ways to make the days go by better.

There was a repetitive humming sounding from your phone and it took everything in you to not turn it off and just go back to sleep. Winter made the apartment complex so cold and your blankets felt so nice, not even mentioning the two bodies resting on you. In front of you, a puff of white hair was blocking the bottom of your vision and his arms were not only wrapped around you, but also around the man behind you.

The other man’s arm was secured around your waist and you could feel his long hair tickling the back of your neck. Out of the three of you, you were always the first up, and it felt nice to listen to their comforting rhythms of their heart beats.

Disappointedly, it was a Tuesday so you couldn’t sleep in with your boys, and you were the most responsible, so you made the decision to wake up. Patting the hand that rested near your hips, you slowly turn your head, whispering,”Suguru, I need to get up.”

He gave a hum that sounded like he was agreeing, but instead of releasing you, he buried his head into the crook of your neck. You giggled as his grip on you only tightened,Suguruwas always so clingy in the mornings. A small groan of discomfort came from the front of you and your other boyfriend was tangling his legs with yours. Satoru was always clingy. No matter the time of day. Do I really want to go to classes today? You knew that if you were to email your teachers, saying you were sick, they would do it too in a heartbeat. No, I can’t miss anything that would help in the midterms.

With a saddened exhale, you reached up, sweetly petting Suguru’s soft hair (that you totally weren’t jealous of) and gently asked him again,”Love, I really need to get ready.” You felt Suguru’s shoulders drop in dissatisfaction, but he complied with your words and let you go. Smiling, you place a soft kiss to his cheek as a thanks and scooted off the mattress.

As you stood and stretched you heard Satoru whine slowly, probably from the loss of heat, but then a second later he was latching himself to Suguru. You shook your head in amusement, moving to the shared bathroom. The chill in your room was not pleasant and you grabbed one of your robes you would normally wear after a shower, but you needed some sort of warmth. When you flicked the lights on, you winced at the change of brightness and had to stand in the doorway rubbing your eyes. Once your eyes were situated, you closed the door behind you, and grabbed your toothbrush.

As you brushed your teeth, you stared at your reflection, which to you, was not an amazing sight. Still, even with the bed head and tired eyes, Satoru and Sugurutreated you like they woke up to a model. Speaking of them, you heard footsteps walking to the door and since Satoru was always the last to wake up without fail, it had to be Suguru. Like you expected, the man opened the door, walking sluggishly towards you with sleepiness still dragging him down,”Good morning, My love.” He mumbled into your hair as he planted a kiss on it.

Through the frothy toothpaste you nodded, letting out a gargled response. He just chuckled, grabbing his own tooth brush. When you finished, you grabbed your hairbrush, beginning to comb through your hair. Suguru cut off his faucet, watching you through the mirror,”Care to do mine when you’re done?” Was that even something he had to question? You loved playing with or styling Suguru’s hair, so you were quick to accept his request.

When your hair looked good, you walked behind Suguru, going out to the room where Satoru was still snoring peacefully. You walked in, giggling under your breath and when you looked up Suguru was raising his brow at you. You gestured to the open door, still laughing quietly,”He sleeps like a bear in hibernation.” Suguru leaned past the door, chuckling at his boyfriend's loud snores,”This odd thing is, he only does that when he’s in bed alone.”

You opened up a drawer, grabbing your supplies for Suguru’s hair and smirked,”Good, because I would have to kick him out if he snored like that with us.” Once you got the chair in place, Sugurusat down, yawning tiredly as you grabbed his comb. There was no need for words as you deranged his hair, you two didn’t need them to fill the space. The silence was comfortable. You loved mornings like these. Where there was no rush, everyone was getting up at their own time, and it was peaceful.

You hummed a small tune under your breath as you worked your way through his dark strands. Glancing at the mirror, you smiled a bit, because Suguruhad closed his eyes somewhere in your process and with each brush, he leaned more into your touch. You decided to do a half-up-half-down style for his long hair. His eyes cracked open gently as your fingertips grazed his skin.

Sadly, the quietness was interrupted by a loud yawn. Satoru had woken up and he stood listlessly. He scratched his abdomen, blinking at you and Suguru as he collected his consciousness. It didn’t shock you that he walked in without a shirt on, only wearing fluffy pj sweatpants. (ones that had wine bottles on them like he was a woman in his forties'.) Satoru was an automatic heater, so the cold didn’t deter him. You watched as the man strolled over, leaning down and tilting his head to kiss Suguru, then leaned up and stole another kiss from you.

“Good morning,” He croaked, a dopey smile across his lips. You snickered quietly,”Morning.” Suguru was on the brink of falling asleep again, so he only gave a little hum in response. You looked back down at Suguru’s hair, collecting the soft strands that covered his face and pulling them into a small ponytail. Satoru walked behind you, laying his body against yours. It felt pretty nice, since he just radiates heat. He laid his head on your shoulder, watching his lovers do their usual routine. As you flattened any of Suguru’s fly-aways, Satoru stuck to your back, unmoving even as you bent down and planted a small kiss to Suguru’s cheek.

When you rose back up, Suguru leaned into you, forcing you into a sandwich between them. Normally, you would push them away, half hearted saying you wanted to get dressed, but in that moment, you could only stare. Satoru’s eyes were closed and he breathed deeply on your shoulder. Geto could barely keep his eyes open but he had a small smile on his face as he examined himself in the mirror. Maybe it was the stress of school or the fact a major test was coming up, but you really hadn’t heard the sound of pure silence. Only accompanied by the quiet breathing of the men next to you.

It was a soothing sound, one you were used to, but often neglected. It didn’t seem important, but the world was so busy lately and the momentary rest gave you relief. It calmed your worries. Silence the panic in your head. Most of all, it allows you to see the beauty of utter peace. It was rare to find a moment like this and it was justified when Satoru let out a loud groan, startling both you and Geto as he began to start his day. The other two might not have noticed, occupied by their own thoughts, but you didn’t mind. As long as you were sharing the brief bit of tranquility with them.

۶ৎ

You stood close to the two men as you waited for the bus to arrive. To try and create some sort of warmth, you huddled close to Suguru, your back resting against his chest as one of his hands wrapped around your collarbone. Satoru was shifting on the balls of his feet, letting out puffs of breath, and trying to avoid freezing. Each of your noses were turning a soft shade of pink and you regretted not asking for an uber, but then you would have to pay for it and none of you wanted to do that. Swiftly, Satoru’s interest had changed, he perked up and turned to you both,”Did I tell you guys about the dream I had last night?”

You both shook your head and Suguru added on,”If it’s anything like the ones you usually have, then I don’t want to know.” Satoru waved him off, now getting closer to tell his story,”This one was super realistic but it was so weird.” You gave him an unimpressed stare,”Are you going to tell us what happened or keep beating around the bush.” He rolled his eyes, flicking your forehead in a scolding manner,”I’m trying to create an ambiance.”

“More like trying to make it sound more interesting than it is.” Suguru snickered, making you giggle quietly. Satoru did not appreciate the mocking and took a large step to the side, deciding to ignore both of his partners. You faced the sky, you and Suguru sharing a look. With a sigh, Suguru turned toward the man.(who was acting like a child)”We were just messing with you Satoru.”

The white-haired male huffed, pouting and looking away. You had to hide the amused smile on your face so Satoru would stop being a baby,”C’mon, you can’t stay mad at us forever ‘Toru.” Dammit, he thought. You knew Satoru was weak to that nickname. Begrudgingly he moved back to his original position, finding himself snug against you and Suguru,”Anyways,” he said with sass dripping from his tone,”Basically we all went to the same school,but the weird thing was we all had like powers. There were also these monsters that were called curses or something.”

You listened carefully, not expecting his dream to actually have an interesting plot,”You were able to create transparent weapons out of nothing, like full on use an invisible gun.” That sounded pretty badass to you, Satoru pointed to Suguru, who was just as attentive,”And you could seal the curses into little balls and use them whenever you wanted, but you had to eat it to use them.” Suguru’s nose scrubbed in disgust,”Seriously? Why couldn’t I get something cool like her.” He complained

Satoru held up his hands in fake defense,”Hey, I’m not the one who came up with the powers.” He snapped his fingers, pointing to himself,”Oh and guess what? I was some sort of prodigy from a clan with my last name and I have this thing where when my eyes glow, I have a barrier around me, so literally nothing could hurt me.” You and Suguruwere at a loss for words. You elbowed the man,”So it’s just a coincidence you were the strongest one?”

He blew raspberries at you, acting like this was some sort of prophecy and it was the universe's intent to make him the most powerful,”Sorry, babe, but only some of us can wield such great power.” Your jaw tighter at his arrogance,”I’m going to punch you.” He laughed loudly, pulling you away from the warmth of Suguruand into his own arms, planting obnoxious kisses to your face,”It’s okay, I’ll protect you no matter what.”

You couldn’t contain your giggles even when you half heartedly tried to shove Satoru off of you, reaching for Suguruin a pitiful attempt of escape,”Help me!” You squeaked, but the man was way to entertained to help. After what felt like hours, the bus arrived and Satoru had stopped attacking you with kisses a second ago, but he didn’t let you go, instead keeping you tucked into his side. As the vehicle rolled to a stop, Satoru seemingly remembered another factor of his dream,”Also, I forgot to mention I had this thing called like third—wait no, six eyes. I could see everything.”

You let out a chuckle,turning your head as you walked up the steps,”Can’t you do that already?” Satoru opened his mouth to defend himself, but Sugurucut him off,”It’s sounds like your powers are super boring Satoru,”

Even as you and Suguruwere already on the bus, Satoru kept pouting, whining behind you guys to stop making fun of him. Despite his pouting, he scrambled onto the bus, trailing right behind you.

Perm Taglist:

@geektastic84 @galactacium @love-me-satoru @stilldontknowwhatiamdoing @retiredpieceofshits @mortallyshadysoul

[unstablegoldfish]

[Your Gentle Comfort] 18+

Story Summary: Your interest in boys didn’t really exist in your life. It wasn’t because you were against romance, but mainly for the fact that all the boys in your school were— well, boys. It wasn’t until you met your new teacher and had a relationship growing with him that you realized, you wanted a man.

Black Sheep - Chap 3

Joel Miller x F!reader - Teacher x F!Student

Warning: AGE GAP: After all it is a highschool student x teacher. Light swearing. Slow burn story. Being neglected by your parents. Emotional confrontation. [More will be added as the story progresses.]

Word Count: 2.9k (Wish it was longer, but you've been waiting long enough)

Chapter 2 -> Click here! Chapter 4 -> TBD

Fic Masterlist -> Click here!

Chapter Summary: Unsure of what the day will hold this time. But you're still looking forward to seeing Joel Miller even knowing that you're going to have a chat with him about what's going on. It's okay, you can do it.

————————————————————————————

Another day rolls around, after everything yesterday brought, you weren't sure how everything would go today. Looking outside your window from bed you at least knew you wouldn't be walking through rain on the way to school. Only walking with light clouds.

You lived in Oregon so rain wasn't completely uncommon nor were the clouds. Nearing September it was pretty frequent to have rainfalls. Just not as heavy as yesterday.

You had gotten dressed, wearing jeans and your favorite zip-up sweater. You packed your bag and made your lunch. Brushed your teeth and put on socks. You were ready to get going to school. You said goodbye to your empty house, leaving you with an empty soul.

The leaves were starting to fall onto the sidewalks, and the weather was becoming chillier. Your perfect kind of weather was just on the horizon. It's sad to know that this'll be your last year of walks during the fall season. So you'll take as much of it in as possible.

You finally made it to the sidewalk of the front doors. Opposite to you, Mr. Miller was walking along as well. He must have come from the staff parking lot. At this rate you were going to arrive at the same time.

"Mornin', how's it goin'?" he asks in a friendly manner. He definitely wanted to check up on you.

His smile was warm. "Morning." was said softly from your voice. You try and shoot a smile, but it wasn't hiding anything from how you were feeling. "Doin' okay." Was the best you could say.

You guys walk up to the door and he holds it for you, he was polite.

"Give me a shout. whenever." He was trying his best to make sure you knew he was someone you could talk to, he didn't want it to seem like he only cared once.

You hummed a simple yes and followed him down to class.

Most teachers would say they were there for you, but would never follow up on it. You never blamed them, there's more students then just you after all.

You and Mr. Miller entered the classroom. It was just going to be the two of you for awhile, you'd never show up this early but recently you've had a motivation to do so. Just happens that the motivation was the only one in the room with you in this moment.

Should I say something?

"Mr. Miller...?"

"S'up?"

"I just wanted to thank you for everything, especially for the ride home. I...I didn't mean to tear up on you before I left your car, it's just that I know my house is empty and cold. Not really the best thing to come home to."

Unsure if that made any sense, you tried to continue.

"It's just you— you've shown me warmth in the first 2 days, closest I've ever felt to the sun if you get me...?"

"Well, I’m real glad I could make ya feel a little better. My goal as a teacher’s makin’ sure everybody knows they got a safe place here. But listen, you ain’t ever gotta apologize for cryin’, alright? Given the circumstances, it’s ‘bout as normal as can be."

you smile, it was comforting to hear that. Especially in his voice. The feelings you felt for him were dangerous. You were a match ready to be lit, but only by him. If you ever wanted things to move another direction it would be by your own accord.

"Gonna pull ya outta class today to talk a bit more, if that’s alright with ya?"

you give a nod as you made your way through the desks.

You took a seat at your desk and Mr. Miller talked to you about his sheep farm fantasies, and how he ended up becoming a teacher in the first place. You enjoyed this time with him and you thought you should come into school earlier from now on. You wanted one on one time with him badly. Now that you had his warmth you wouldn't be able to leave it behind. You made sure to look at the time to remember just how early. You just hoped Mr. Miller was a persistent guy when it came to timing.

Some students started joining the class, along with your tiny awareness friend. He sat beside you but no conversation arose.

You grabbed your pencils and booklet out of your bag and started writing even before class started. Granted it never really felt like work when you wrote for English, it relaxed you more than anything.

You peaked up from your papers to see Mr. Miller studying you. His arm rested on his desk with his finger to his lip. He was in deep focus, but as soon as he caught your eyes he glanced down at his book. When he made moves like that, the want to act upon it became stronger.

Your friend whispers over to you “He’s eyeing you up again, what’s going on? Also you never told me why you stayed after class the other day??”

That was the first time he’s ever asked that many questions at once. Since when did he care so much about what happens to you?

“I think you’re being weird. But he talked to me about my paper. That’s all.” you whisper back. You still wanna deny what your friend thinks he’s seeing, but if it was obvious to your clueless buddy it's just a matter of time before more people catch on, no?

You hear the bell ring as a few other classmates scurry into the door. Mr. Miller had stood up from his corner to greet the class. He began to use the chalk against the board.

"Weekend Activities" was what he revealed. "Go on and get started writin’. Y’all got ten minutes to finish up this assignment, then I’ll get ya rollin’ on our project work."

He makes his way back over to his desk. He calls you over with a smile.

You made your way over, he looks at you with with soft eyes.

"Do you mind if we step outside for a minute?" He asks with caution, not trying to overwhelm you. You knew it was coming but you didn't think it would be this soon.

"Oh".

You then remembered the clothes he had given to you to borrow from yesterday. However...you forgotten them at home. He leads you out into the hallway. Before he even got a chance to speak you started.

"If this is about....the clothes. I forgot them. I'm sorry." you whisper hoping no one would hear you.

he lets out a quiet chuckle. "No, no. It's fine, I ain’t got no use for 'em anyhow. Keep 'em, girlie."

GIRLIE?

Left in shock he began to speak regardless. "Let's have a conversation in my office 'kay?" His tone was calming. You knew what he was about to ask you. You probably hold the record for the amount of teachers watchlists you're on. At least they tried to care unlike your parents.

You weren't really sure how Mr. Miller was going to approach this situation however, would it be different? With his ways of authority and softness being well balanced, and your quick liking to him, maybe opening up more wouldn't be such a bad thing.

He had unlocked the office door once more. Inside revealed a cleaner space, less boxes, lots of books. The sheep figurines and trinkets still stayed around. It was comforting to see.

"Kept your sheep then?" You ask.

"Couldn't possibly get rid of 'em." He paused and picked up one. "This one here reminds me of back home."

He hands you a magnet, one that had a heard of white sheep and dead center in the middle was a black one. The fence read "Long Creek Oregon". He was originally from there?

"It's cute." you chuckle. You're preceptive, so you think this is his way of saying he feels the same as you. A black sheep in all the white ones.

"Back home, I weren’t much different from you. Had to fend for myself, no safety net to catch me. Bein’ on your own like that—it’s a mighty scary place to be." His eyes placed softly on you, looking up from the figurine you felt your eyes lightly glazed with tear when you met his eyes. He gets it.

"S'ummin' you feel the same way?" He pauses and lets out a breath.

You stutter to start. You felt safe, and with him you felt an immense sense of trust. "I do… It’s just really hard being on my own all the time—expected to have all the answers by myself."

You reach over and give him back the magnet. Instead of taking it, he closes your hand softly. His hand, twice the size of yours. He was a protector.

"It’s yours, girlie. Whenever ya look at it, just remember, that sheep’s me too." He smiles back at you softly. He caresses your hand with his thumb before letting go.

"Thank you, but are you sure?"

"Most definitely" He gives you a reassuring smile. "‘Fore we head out, anything else ya wanna talk about?"

You wanted to express more of the pain your parents leave you in your daily life, or the fact your friends left you high and dry in a more in depth layer then your written assignment ever would. But it would be best to save it for another time, you wanted to save yourself from the puffy eyes and red cheeks as much as possible.

"Always, but better to save it for now. I appreciate this so much Mr.Mill-"

"Joel. It's Joel."

Your eyes were finally letting the tear slide down your cheek. His thumb reaches out to catch it.

"S'okay. I'm here for when you're ready. Only if ya want me to be. Not gonna push you into nothin' kay?" You gave him a nod. You were ever so grateful for his considerations of your feelings.

He lead you again outside of his office. You had let him know you were going to head to the bathroom again to wash up, you didn't want to be returning with tears in your eyes.

You went for a walk and decided to go to the bathroom across the school this time, during the walk you thought about his hand placement on you. Never did you ever want to give the same in return before. The idea of caressing his face was stuck in your head for awhile. You'd never think you'd want to do something like that with anyone. But after all, Joel. Joel was different. It rung in your head for a bit. Joel Miller.

You walked into the bathroom, only to be surprised by one of the girls in your past friend groups. You looked down in order to not be an upset. Then headed into one of the stalls. The beauty of a high school bathroom was the immense amount of graffiti. You'd look through it in enjoyment, but not this time. Your name was written above a drawing of a crying face. It was fine. You expected something like this to happen, they never liked how closed off you were. But deep down they were just hungry for some drama to spread around, and you knew that better then they did.

You let out a sigh. Then went to wash your hands, your old friend had left. At least you had an idea on who did it. Not like you were going to act upon it anyways, it's not like it bothered you. Right?

You slowly walked back to class, trying to enjoy it since you knew that these days were going to come to an end anyways. What was the rush?

You opened the door to class, everyone was working on their projects and there was some conversation. You were gone long enough for people to probably assume you were in the main office for something.

Mr. Miller had looked up from his desk. You met his gaze but decided to look away.

You joined your friend back at your desk, he looked at you and could tell you had an encounter.

"What happened this time?" He asks.

"A drawing in the bathroom stall. Better yet with my name."

He laughs. "Pathetic, honestly."

You nodded your head in agreement. What a waste of energy.

When you got to your desk you realized you hadn't even started the project due to the amount of times you've already been pulled out of class. You grabbed the sheet that was given as a handout yesterday to refer to. Maybe instead of dreaming about Mr. Miller this time, you could do some work.

...Oh light work. No need to worry.

You started writing your ideas out. Trying not to occasionally glance at Mr. Miller in curiosity. But with the restraint you held you managed to finish the project within 15 minutes. You were among the first students to hand it in even despite you missing most of the class this morning. Thank god you love writing.

You took the rest of class to do your own free writing. But during this time your focus was divided between your journal and Mr. Miller. You got so lost in thought that you ended up writing about him.

You were so invested in writing that you hadn't even noticed that Mr. Miller was no longer in his seat. He was no where to be found.

"That's a very lovely poem." Came from a calming tone behind you. You look and it was Mr. Miller.

Fuck.

he just read out your feelings. He knows.

"Um, yeah it's stupid really." You said shakenly. You didn't know what to do, how would he react? I was his student. He wasn't supposed to know.

"Not at all." He replied. He walked past and you got a glimpse of a smirk on his face, and the slight shake of his head.

What am I gonna do ‘bout ya, darlin'?

Fuck...

Your thoughts blurred by the sound of the bell, it was time to get out of here.

————————————————————————————

Okay, only took me a literal year. Not actually. I just didn't have the motivation for this at the time. I had just gotten a laptop recently that made this a breeze to create. However I did wish it was a little longer, but I can use that for next chapter as you guys have waited LONG enough for this one. So sorry, but thank you for your continued support for this to happen!! Love you guys endlessly!! Also really tried working with his accent on this one lmk what you think.

Taglist: @miss-mistinguett @astro3des @prfctwilliams @onetimebaby @mal023 @thejoywillburnoutthepain @theoraekenslover

[secret-fungi]

Pomegranate

Book: Thunderstorm saga Paring: Tai/ MC (Verena) Word count: 6000+ words Rating: M Warnings: sexual content, mentions of abuse, physical injury, bruising, and emotional harm. ooc characters.

He glanced at the thick, dark clouds that rushed like an angry tide. His room illuminated for brief seconds at a time with each strike of lighting. It cast his room in long dark shadows, making monsters out of chairs and enemies out of dressers. The once vibrant moon hid behind an opaque curtain. The chill seeped in through the stones and wrapped around him, and when the breeze hit his window, the curtains swayed and the candle’s flame faltered. Despite the hour and all the day's tasks, he lingered, taking a long sip from his glass he turned his eyes towards his desk. The letter with its seal broken sat lamely by a lantern. It was long overdue to sit on his desk, yet when it came, months too late, an indented line cut across her family’s crest, and the bottom of the page was torn. 

Once again, he set his jaw, letting out an aggravated breath before he decided to pick up the torn letter once more. For the first time since receiving it, he opened it. Neat letters, formal greetings, how training was going. Any touch of goodwill they had built together seemed to have cooled the farther she was. Or, at the very least, the parts he could read were formal. The tops of some letters peaked from the tear. ‘I’ ‘T’ ….. ‘V’ or maybe it was a Y. He tried to guess the sentences as he drank his wine. Maybe the other half of the jagged page spoke of missing him, or how she spent her days, if she enjoyed the local food and slept well in the mountain air, if she enjoyed her time and regretted having to leave– unlikely. Maybe the page told of her anger, and how she was glad to be so far from his entire family, a formal goodbye and nothing more.  

Whatever she wrote at the end of the page, the knowledge of it was kept far from him. Another flash of lighting, as he frowned he looked at the back of the letter. The shadows flashed once more. He set the letter down, tucking it between the pages of a book as thunder rattled the stones and the leaves trembled violently outside as he sat to pen a response. 

She would be concerned if he told her the truth, So he made up a lie, and responded to the rest, once again reminding her that she needn’t write to him so formally. He asked if she enjoyed the company if she was kept so busy that she couldn’t write, how she enjoyed the sights of the empire if only to picture how she’d sit and try and come up with a diplomatic response. He set it off with a wave of his hand before he fell asleep.

I don’t know what to write. I’ve written to my king, the princess and all, but it is different to tell you about those things. Are you hesitant too? It seems   Undo to write to you with trivial things. It’s fascinating to be here. It is much different than back home. Sha’arnez is an excellent teacher but he keeps me busy. I am too tired to think of anything worthy to tell you. There are flowers here, they remind me of home. I’m told you call them something different than we do, for us it is a windflower. – Verena ey Vedtree  

But the days continued without much to say, the storm calmed, and then a new one appeared, the cycle unbroken as he sat, leaned back in his chair as he read. Once more, the night had held him hostage, and again he found himself returning to his thoughts. The sun had fled once more, and rain slowly began to beat down on the glass roof. Still, he stayed, unbothered by the change as footsteps passed him by. He lingered in the space full of blossoming life despite the hour and the dinner waiting to be served. The rain pattered against the roof, and when the stars above gave no light, the lanterns around the room lit up, wine was brought, and the rain rattled on, and Tai returned to the letter that had been tucked between the pages, something to mark his spot, a hidden treasure, and a warning. 

He knew it was a warning. A lesson not to interfere, He knew. All it ever was, was a threat to tell him not to be too eager. All it ever was, was a cane to the back of his legs.

The storm had worsened, the sound drowning out much else, and for a while longer, he enjoyed that peace, swearing to himself that he would rise in just a moment, but the air whispered its command, the howling of the wind and the song of the rain, its plead to make him stay just that much longer. And so he did until he was interrupted once again. 

  “Greetings, Your Highness.” Sha’arnez greeted, with a bow as he tried not to disturb the figure in his arms, the dark, thick fabric spilled over his arms like a waterfall, and only then, when he heard a familiar voice did he look up, dark eyes switching from resting on the figure in the man’s arms or the man himself, with a raise of his brow the other quickly spoke up. “She fell asleep,” Sha’arnez explained. “Did she not ride herself?” “No, she got hurt and is unable to.” He replied dutifully as if the pair weren’t making a small puddle as the man stood before the prince. 

Tai stilled, furrowing his brows and glancing at the sleeping woman before he looked at the other. “You’ve brought her home injured?” Tai asked, a deep frown tugging at the corners of his lips before he parted them once more, only to be interrupted. “This is not my home,” Verena interjected for the first time alerting the men that she was awake. She looked directly at him as she spoke, firmly, offense edged every inch of her statement. The prince made a strange face like he chewed his words along with the emotions that rose with them before he straightened out. “My apologies, I meant no offense.” He relented before slowly looking over the mage. “Can you walk?” “Yes,” she said before the other could speak for her. She stood on her own, drowning in her soaked cloak in front of him. 

He stilled for a moment, as she looked at him with a challenge in her eyes and raised a brow. “Come, Send for the physician.” “I’ve already been seen.” “And you’ll be seen again,” he said. She glanced at the rider before he nodded. A silent conversation that seemed so loud as he stood outside of it. “Have her things brought to her room for her.” Tai instructed, “Is there much to discuss?” She asked as if it was foreign. But the prince only offered his arm, and with some level of hesitancy, she took it before bidding the rider goodbye. 

The walk was strange, a heavy, thick silence surrounded them as she held onto his arm, his pace was much slower as they walked, and the sound of their steps upon the marble carried throughout the halls. She looked around, as if for an enemy that was hiding in the dark edges of grand arches and around each corner. And whenever she thought she found one she’d press herself just that much closer to him. “Did you have a safe journey?” He asked. “Yes, I am afraid it was very tiring, I doubt I'll be much company at all,” she replied. 

“I won’t keep you long.” he promised, catching the thought that flashed across the other’s face. She pressed her lips together before she turned away from him. “Have you been well?” She asked, watching him from the corners of her eyes as if waiting for him to strike.

His eyes dropped to the floor before he nodded. “Yes, thank you.” at this, she twitched, finally turning to look at him properly as they walked. A specimen once more. Maybe she caught the edge in his tone, or the response came half a second too late. He wasn’t sure what caught her attention in his words, but it was caught nonetheless. She followed him as they walked through shortcuts and weaved through hidden parts before they made it to his room. Servants rushed about to set the table as the prince led her to the lounge. Verena looked exhausted as she sank into a chair, hardly able to keep her head from rolling. But she smiled, resting her head against her knuckles as he spoke. 

A fire crackled in front of them, the warmth trying hard to beat off the chill the storm had brought with it. Her knee bent, her foot tucked under her as she looked at him. She was cold, chilled from the rain and that chill lingered around her. “Welcome back,” he said once again. “Thank you, Your highness.” “Have you written to your people?” he asked. She gave him a strange look before she nodded. “Yes.” She replied slowly, her speech slurred slightly. His words didn’t matter, they drifted from her and hung between them like blossoms in a tree. 

But she watched him, still. Nodding as she slowly blinked, her frost reddened cheek pressed up from under her knuckles and just for a moment he wanted to reach and run his fingers against the rosy flush. A maid came into the lavish room, followed by a proud-looking old man, thin and stately. The physician bowed before smiling politely at the pair, awaiting what trouble roused him from his sleep.

"Make sure she has no lasting damage." The prince commanded. On his command, Verena was shown to the adjoining suite. The room had already been prepared for her, a neat folded pile of her clothes sat on the bed and a maid waited with a smile. She wasted no time at all to tend to Verena, ridding her of her rain-soaked dress and heavy boots. The maid, quiet and knowing helped her into a robe before the physician entered.

He urged her to sit before he looked her over. He applied balm on her wounds and gave her a satchel of herbs, with it, he told the maid how to prepare the tea and that the lady must drink it three times a day. He was polite and quick, turning around as she fixed herself up.  

He left, lingering outside her door as he recounted the information to the prince. His words leaked through the doors as the silent maid dressed her for bed.

By the time she came out, the table had been set with an overabundance of everything. Tai, who had been sitting before, rose to his feet before pulling out a chair for her. She looked at him for a while before she sat. She watched as he moved around, placing things on her plate before pouring her a drink and finally sitting himself. The odd uneasy air did not dissipate as they ate, it lingered. She took a sip of the wine, glancing at it deeply as ripples cut through the dark liquid.  "Is it not to your liking?" He asked. "No, it's rather different, I was wondering what fruits were used." she covered easily. He raised his brows at her before nodding. "It has blossoms from a very famous cherry tree." He informed. She nodded slowly, taking another sip before a frown tugged at her lips.

“Did you enjoy your time?” he asked before he took a sip of wine. Her eyes flickered from her food to look at him before she nodded. She ate with small bites and spoke calmly. She looked, truly like she couldn't stand on her own. He half expected her to fall asleep right there in her chair. But she carried on with the conversation. She glanced up at him as he ate, a tired plea curtained with each slow blink.

"Am I staying?" she asked as he chewed. He nodded, covering his mouth with a fine table napkin before he spoke. "It's necessary," he said. Verena pressed her lips together before she took another bite. "I see."

"It is nice to see you again." he said "Thank you, You look well." He narrowed his eyes at her as she took a bite. “Say it.” he urged with a small smile. She paused, a questioning expression crossing her features. "You want to say something, do it," he explained.

"I have nothing to say." She denied. His eyes shifted across her features as he ate. They took turns observing the other, both circling the other with each interaction. It was known, expected, and accepted. Of course, the dearest thing they kept to their hearts but they allowed the other to observe. It was an unspoken agreement outside of their working together; it said they could and should be known to each other.

It was this knowledge that made Verena's anger so very obvious. It was the way she pressed her lips and held her tongue, the way her eyes narrowed and as she ate she seemed to watch him as if he had set a trap. Her anger was as obvious as her longing for her home, maybe they fueled each other, but he wasn't quite sure. But it was to be sure that she was upset and wanted to leave.  

“Do they enjoy bathhouses as much in Esshai as we do here?”  He asked suddenly. She looked at him, a confused look striking across her features before she took a bite of her food, Humming softly as she watched him as if trying to find where under his clothes he had hidden the dagger. She chewed her food slowly as she blinked at him. “Bathhouses are fairly common, yes.” She said 

“It is common to bathe with your rival, as well. As a way to wash bad blood.” She adds. He raised his brows high before he asked “Does it work?” “It is likely the wine’s fault.” she admits, watching him with a tired smile. “We have many sayings, poems, and such on it.” She adds. Tiredness had loosened her lips.

He watched her eat, and every so often she’d look up from her plate and cut the piece she had already cut in half before she slowed down. “Then, let me fix my mistake.”  She giggled, an odd free sort of laugh before she realized, after some time, that the prince was not laughing with her. No, when she opened her eyes once more she found his expression serious and genuine, that telling expression that must’ve been a family trait as it said to all that you’d better listen to them. 

“Royalty do not often participate in this sort of activity.” she explained after her breathing calmed. He tilted his head to the side and arched a brow. “You could if you’re very close, but it is uncommon.” 

He nodded slowly, undeterred by her attempt as he cut off pieces of meat. It took, and placed it on the other’s plate. All of a moment for Verena to concede, a silent look of reproach as he took a bite. it took only him to fill her plate, and she relented. A small smile appeared on his lips as he continued his meal. “It will not wash the war from our hands.” she said “I know.” he replied “But it would be unfortunate if we were to dislike each other after all the time we must spend together, so it is best to solve issues quickly.” She watched him with that same strange look, as if he had been replaced and she was trying very hard to find the difference. 

She raised her cup to him and nodded. “Then, may the waters wash our anger, and the wine replace the blood we have drawn.” she said with an amused smile as if she was waiting for the moment he pulled away. It worked in his favor, to have to call upon a servant to have a bath drawn. By the way, her lips curled, it was obvious she thought she understood.

When the food was eaten and they had finished chatting, he showed her to the bath. Tall, painted ceilings and lavish furnishings, plants and pots, sofas, and a few ornate changing screens, they were heavy and edged with carved gold. The tub was large and deep, It wasn’t far off from a bathhouse used by nobles, and as a maid left a tray of wine on a lifted spot in the tiled tub before she left with a bow, closing the doors on her way. Verena glanced at the prince who looked rather resolved. “You can change behind the screen,” he said as she started to undress. She glanced at it sideways before she continued her task, watching as he made his way behind a screen.  They hardly spoke, the sounds of ruffling clothing and the thuds they made as they dropped. “Do you have a tradition like this here?” she asked.  “Not quite.” he admitted.  “Are you very uncomfortable?” She asks “You’re not the first woman I’ve ever seen.” He shot back. He could almost see the expression, but if she said anything, it was muffled. 

She didn’t wait for him to come from the screen before she stepped into the water, a loud, pleased sigh slipping from her lips as the warmed water enveloped her. By the time he had come out, a towel tied firmly on his hips, she was sitting with her arms outstretched and her head resting on the edge. She closed her eyes almost immediately, her travel-weary muscles relaxed at once. He hesitated for a moment, glancing at a fairly nasty bruise on her shoulder, it blackened her tanned skin and raised beneath it. When he joined her, she didn’t bother to open her eyes or dip deeper into the waters, she stayed as she was, covered only by the towering bubbles that grazed her chest, as with each sway of the waters, her cover lessened. 

She seemed to forget he was even there– that she was even angry with him in the first place as she rested her eyes, only when he moved did she open her eyes to catch him. A brief pause as her eyes lowered before they quickly snapped back to his eyes.  “Were you very busy?” She asked, “Not so.” He replied. She hummed.  

For a while, they just sat a safe distance from each other, letting the lightning fill the room briefly before the warm glow was returned by the fixtures that hung about the room. He glanced at her as she stared at the ceiling, following her gaze before he spoke up, soft and low as if he wanted to bring her close to make her hear. "It depicts King Alas' life as he fell in love." "The lover king," she muttered in response. He glanced to the side to look at her. "It was my favorite story." she explained, not moving from her spot. He smiled, "It's a pleasant one." He admitted. It was one you tell children, the king who had fallen so deeply that he had fought the world to make her his wife. Everyone knew them, their love and life. Parts of their letters are quoted more often than not. "Do you think you could do it?" she asked. "Maybe once," he said

"Lovers, what becomes your body if not food for trees? What becomes of your blood if not to dampen the trenches? Lovers, what becomes of your cries if your voice is not your own?" She recited softly, lamely. He nodded, realizing she wasn't looking at him to see his response he remained silent anyway. They sat and laid out as they told each other history and poems, hands waved in the air as tales were recounted, and laughter encased the room. He gave her a drink and took his own, and the more they drank the more tolerable the other became.

"You seemed offended that I didn't undress in front of you," he announced after the fair amount of wine had its effect on him. "Yes, It is a big part of this tradition, you show and are shown that the other hasn't brought any weapons,” she informed. He nodded slowly before he glanced at the wine. "What else do you do?" He asked. "This is enough," she said with a small smile. "Then tell me out of curiosity," he said. "You typically wash each other's hair." "Typically?" "Others choose something different," she said with a vague wave of her hand, laughing as he understood.

He nodded once, setting his glass down before reaching for a golden vase. "Sit up," he said. She rolled her head to look at his, her eyes dropping to the vase in his hands. She looked at him strangely but he only raised his brows. Relenting, she sat up, moving farther into the tub with him.

He brought up a pitcher, his free hand tilting her chin up before he moved to shield her face from the water. The surprisingly gentle movement made the other giggle as she looked up at him. "What?" "It's much more intimate when you do it this way." She says. He raised his brows high "How else do you do it?" he asked "I dunk my hair in." She said with a grin. He paused for a moment before pouring more water on her. She reached out in front of her, grabbing blindly until she felt his arm, she held him, her nails sinking into the muscles in his arm as she cackled, the bubbling sound as she tried not to inhale the water.

Once she had stopped coughing he had already poured out some shampoo into his hands, he messaged the shampoo into her hair, it lathered and foamed, and as it did she let out a hum. "Lavender." he nodded in response, watching as her shoulders slowly dropped once again. She leaned into him as he worked, closing her eyes and letting a small, pleased smile grace her lips. He doubted that she knew that she was even smiling, but he made no moves to let her know. He watched her expression shift and change, how her thick lashes twitched and fluttered every so often. His eyes dropped down to her lips, her lips pressed together as if she were trying to hold in a smile. She failed at the corners. They twitched and kept turning upwards no matter how she tried, but she tried.

"You are willing to do much for diplomacy." she muttered "You too." He replied after a beat. She laughed a bit “Is that a demand?” “An observation.” His hands dropped to his side and she opened her eyes. She laid back and stared at the high ceiling once again. She didn't expect him to return, his fingers combing out the long dark ribbons.

Her head pressed further into his fingers as he massaged it. “Why are you angry?” He asked. She muttered, her voice low and unintelligible. “I’m not mad.” she said clearer. He hummed softly, its skeptical rhythm made the other smile softly. He lowered her head into the water, rinsing out the lavender wash. From her spot, flat on her back she looked up at him, watching as his tiredness looked much more severe when the lightning hit, but when the room was once again only lit by the candles, he was tired no more. She would not admit it, not even for a moment but, there had always been something melancholic about the prince’s appearance, something haunting in a strangely beautiful way, like a flame catching on a painting, a flower as its dried, darkened petals fell to the table. Something fleeting and out of reach.

She wouldn’t admit it, but there was beauty in the empire. 

She caught his eye, his brow twitching as closed her eyes again. There was beauty. But she would refuse to see it. Block her ears to muffle his words and close her eyes to hide from his. What beauty is there in devastation? Some morbid beauty, draped in a cloth soaked in the blood of all that she loved. Despite the blood streaking down his body, drawing lines across him– there was beauty in the empire. There was devastation in the empire. 

And What beautiful carnage He was.

"Prince?" She called. He hummed. "You don't have a tradition like this, do you?" she asked. He paused for a moment. "No." he admitted. He watched for her reaction, anger, amusement... anything. But she had none at all. She remained still for a while before she parted her lips again. 

“I’m going to die here, aren’t I?” she asked suddenly, tilting her head back to look at him. She watched as he stilled his face, his whole body frozen as if he tried to come up with a lie. She liked to pick out his expressions, guess what they meant. With each twitch of his lips, every raised brow, every subtle movement his eyes made, he gave away the thoughts he held on his tongue, and with each one she decoded, she felt an odd sense of victory, pride at somehow coming closer to the heart of him. But as she watched the truth still behind his teeth, no victory was found. 

“Peace is a sacrifice,” he replied. “In time, you’ll find something you like here.” He added. She frowned deeply, swallowing a few times before she let out a sigh, her lips moved subtly as she whispered a silent prayer. Then, she nodded, closing her eyes for a moment as he returned to washing her hair. That moment was all she took, and with the breeze, it was gone. 

She rose from the water before she took the vase from him, her eyes glancing at the top of his head before he nodded. He tensed for a moment as he laid back into the water, but as he stared at the ceiling for a moment it was nice. Hesitantly her fingers combed through his hair. She didn’t know what she expected to see when she looked at him as close as she was now, but it wasn’t him. At this distance… he was real. The warmth from his body crept up against her, his naked chest moved as he breathed, he was real, and with one strike  she could kill them both. Kill her friends. Kill her home. 

The sounds of the world were muffled by the water, and as he listened to its song he let out a sigh. When he had to return, he did so reluctantly, rising from the water before he sank to accommodate her. She watched the water as it made its path before she reached for him. Ignoring the way he raised his brows at her before he glanced down at her, he was much less ashamed, he didn’t rush or even hide his eye’s slow movements down her frame before just as slowly his eyes returned to hers. As if he teased her with doing what she hadn’t the courage to. She was less hesitant this time as she brought him closer. 

“You never wrote,” she said. “The letter was lost for a while.” At this she glanced at him again, studying his eyes as she scrubbed his scalp. “Was he angry?” She asked. Tai’s eyes fell to her collarbone before, and with a lazy blink, he met her eyes again. 

He hid the truth once more with a twitch of his brow that reminded her of their positions. He wasn’t sure why he did, truthfully. Everyone knew. All it ever was, was a lesson, he knew. Everyone knew. Even before he was called to meet his father, a smile on his lips as he asked if his lover had written to him. Even before he told the prince she only spoke of him in the presence of the emperor. It was a taunt, a show of arms. All it ever was, was a threat to tell him not to be too eager.

Don’t be too wise, too involved. Don’t step on his toes or look like you wish ill on him. But by the gods, don’t you dare slouch, boy. 

Maybe he wanted to pretend to be better than he was in front of her.  Prove that he’s more. 

But the truth was simpler; A king cares for nothing but power. But He was not a king, nor the emperor. But He could hold nothing of his own, and should he acquire something for himself, it belonged to the prince not the man under the crown.

She looked at him once more, meeting his eyes as she continued to wash his hair. She gave no reply, and she didn’t bother apologizing, she just kept looking as if there was something to find beneath his skin. He swallowed, fixed to his spot as she worked. 

It was still, just the sound of the water being pushed around softly, not a creak or scratch at the door, somewhere the word had fallen away. She forced him to slouch, as she scrubbed his scalp. He stared at her, his eyes moving around her features as she worked. It wasn’t exactly hatred that tugged at the corners of her lips— though it was there, it lingered between her brows and hung from her teeth. — But it wasn’t exactly fondness — that was quicker, it flashed in her smile and left with a blick, it settled in her eyes, before looking away. —  more a strange sense of curiosity as if she watched some form of torture be inflicted. 

His eyes dropped to the bruise on her ribs that disappeared under the water, his fingers moving on their own to graze the skin. She tensed under his touch, letting out a sharp intake of breath as she cast him a warning look, but despite it, she remained, letting his fingers settle into the dips of her ribs. “Does it bother you?” he asked, his voice low. “When I lay on it.” she replied, matching his tone. His fingers traced around the dark edge.

 “One of the oils added helps with it.” He said, watching her reaction as his fingers moved. “Did you ask for it?” She asked softly. He nodded. There it was. Almost fondness, he watched as it spread into her smile and flitted across dark eyes before it was gone. His fingers slid across her wet skin and her eyes dropped to his lips. She was drawn to him, like an idiot to a flame, like seeing a storm and waiting to see what it brought, a morbid curiosity that begged to watch him take hold of a weapon, and draw blood so she might see what he does next. Maybe it was curiosity, or maybe it was the devil’s hunger, but with all his curiosities, he interested her. 

So she let him slip closer. She put up no fight when his lips finally met hers. She straightened, her hands still in his hair. Firm. Insistent. Urgent. He pulled her closer. She flinched, pushing towards him to avoid him touching the mark on her back. A muttered apology was breathed into her open mouth as she stretched to meet him. In that half a second there was an agreement, an understanding of sorts. A silent agreement to leave the troubles at the door. The storm continued outside, and with each flash of light, each crash of thunder the pair didn't bother to part. Heavy breathing and splashing waters cut through the stillness.

His hand slid down her back like a feather, fingertips not truly pressing against the sensitive skin. It urged her forward. Hate and attraction seemed to fight within the mage. One moment she was demanding, her grip on his hair almost painful, her teeth on his lips just a touch too harsh, and the next she held him with a look she wouldn't have let him see if she hadn't drank. But he didn't mind, his grip on her only grew firmer as they dove deeper.

The already warm room seemed to only get warmer as the prince took a step back, retracting his hand to feel the step behind him before he pulled her to sit with him, his hand knocking over a glass of wine as they settled against each other once more. She chased him without parting, pressing herself against him, as they stepped. 

The change didn't bother the pair, continuing as if nothing had changed, her knees bracketing his legs as she sat, pushing into him until he was leaning fully on his elbows. This action did not make the smug smile fall from his lips, somehow, it grew. She could feel it, as her hand encased his cheek, she felt it in the curve of it. She could feel it as his hand rested against her hip. She parted from him, just enough for their noses to still be touching, enough to still breathe the other's air. She found his eyes already opened, half-lidded and smug. 

His heart beat rapidly against her roaming hand. Her eyes flicked from watching her hand’s movements to watching his expression. Daring, encouraging, longing. She didn’t go lower than his naval. He watched her as she made her exploration as he made his own. His movements were less based in curiosity than they were based in affection. His fingers ghosting over her clavicle before they started to dip down. She strained to keep silent, her back tense as his fingers trailed lower.

He looked up at her, as his fingers circled her navel, she had stilled against him, her hand curled against his chest. Her brows furrowed and deep frown pulled at her lips, despite her efforts she was given away by the soft trembling as his fingers moved up again, and the way his name started to form on her lips. 

He opened his mouth to speak but whatever it was, was swallowed as she kissed him again. She wouldn't let it happen again, once the wine wore off and she had left this would never happen again. Each moment was a tick in the clock. One second closer for the moment to end. If asked, she'd leave this part out of the story of her time in the empire, she'd deny it.  

Because beauty was one thing... But Tai was another.

He parted if only to catch his breath for a moment. For a while, they stared at each other, trembling and flushed. She blinked at him, long lashes fluttering as she did. Her mouth fell open as she heaved. He watched as a multitude of micro-expressions tugged at her features. He could almost read her thoughts spiral before he rested his head against his shoulder, his eyes flicking up to the painted ceiling. "If you gave me time, I could." He promised before she could regret it. She looked up, before with a sigh she looked behind him at the spilled wine before he looked lazily and shrugged. She opened her lips again but closed it softly.

He watched as if he already knew the thoughts in her head. He sat up again, dipping his head down to place soft, open-mouth kisses against her shoulder. "It's late." She said as he smiled against the top of her breast. "You should sleep." He said. “You don’t seem angry anymore, You said some prefer other ways?" he asked. She paused for a moment, gathering her scattered thoughts to understand what he asked, and when she did, she laughed heartily. "Yes. No," she said as she stood up from him. The absence of the other’s warmth was immediately felt, marked by an odd stuttery movement and fingers grazing a toned leg. A strange, out of mind sensation as they reach for each other in small barely noticeable ways before they return and carried on. The hand dropped and the woman continued to walk up the steps beside the prince. 

He watched her with naked interest as he pointed to the towels. He gave her a wolfish grin from over his shoulder as she dried off. “Then they do not sound like rivals.” She laughed. “No, back home we say they are lovers who are the last to know they are in love.”  He raised his brows high before the sound of his laughter filled the room, it wasn’t overly boisterous or anything of that sort, it was a low, soft sound. Like the rain against the roof. “I should work to anger you more often.” He said “You needn’t change a thing, prince.” she replied quickly. 

He gave a knowing look before he laughed again. “Then, until next time.” he said, his back still turned to her while her wet steps crossed the path to the towels.

she limped slightly, favoring the uninjured leg much more than she had when they walked together. He realized that she was either too tired or found it to be useless to try and keep up the facade now. 

His eyes followed the path of her towel before he nodded. “Esshai was right, with this tradition.” “I’ll make sure to tell the king of your approval, then.” “oh, I’m sure you will.” 

“Verena?” He asked. “Yes?” “Consider me.” No response came. He doubted a verbal one would. 

He stayed where he was, with his back to the edge. as she dressed and left for bed. He listened to each sound, the rustle of her clothing and the soft words muttered under her breath, to the sounds of her footsteps and the closing of the door. He listened for the second door to close and waited for her voice to carry to where he was, but she made not a sound for the rest of the night.

[raddestrose]

That little Gojo Deku hybrid is a conniving one isn’t he