#i promise ty’s shirt is more exciting than this

[thinkingabout-girls]

drew dipper wearing @corbits-comet’s outfit and now he’s mad at me

[ddodol]

tighter — p.wb

series ⭑.ᐟ [ kinktober masterlist ] content warning ⭑.ᐟ smut! minors dni!, titfreak bf!wonbin, fem!reader, pet names, what wonbin wants wonbin gets, bondage, backshots, overstimulation, unprotected sex. word count⭑.ᐟ 2.4k+

wonbin’s little obsession all started when you tried on a lingerie he bought that was (un)fortunately too small on you.

the fabric and thin strings were digging into your skin and wonbin felt bad that you were feeling uncomfortable trying it on for him but, god, you looked absolutely stunning. he flashed you a smile, pulling you on his lap and rubbing his bulge against your exposed ass.

“i know it’s uncomfortable but can we keep this on?”

you were more than happy to oblige, not that you had any control since wonbin had his hand on your wrists as he pounded you until your head started spinning. you did notice that wonbin was more enthusiastic than usual, trying out things that he never does.

it didn’t surprise you anymore when wonbin shoved a bundled up soft, cotton rope in your face, proposing to tie you up. it smelled nice, guessing that wonbin took the liberty to wash and condition it before using it on you. “i promise i did my research and we can stop if you’re uncomfortable,” wonbin smiled sheepishly, staring at you with huge eyes.

he looked so excited, how could you say no?

”alright, bbin. i don’t mind as long as it’s nothing too extreme for now,” wonbin nodded quickly, eyes sparkling as he unbundled the rope. you took your clothes off, or at least tried to.

wonbin held your hands tightly, “can you leave this on?” he pointed at the shirt you borrowed from him. you giggled, nodding as you took everything off except wonbin’s red plaid shirt and your panties. you oddly felt more exposed, heart racing in anticipation. he gave you a quick kiss, smiling widely as he began to place the rope over your neck.

“tell me if it’s too tight, okay?” wonbin carefully ran the rope over your body, slipping a finger in between each knot to make sure it isn’t too tight. as much as wonbin looked forward to seeing the rope dig into your skin until it left marks, he also didn’t want to scare you with your first bondage experience. nonetheless, you already looked adorable to wonbin as you stared up at him in anticipation.

a soft sigh escaped wonbin’s lips as he got to your chest, biting on his lip at how soft you felt against his fingers. you giggled at his focused expression, placing a small peck on his cheek. “can you tell i’m trying so hard to take my time for you, baby?”

you nod, “i can see your bulge through your pants, bbin.” wonbin grinned, sneaking a small kiss as he continued. the knot he made around your tits felt more detailed, knowing exactly why he’s paying so much attention to them. he ran the rope against your core, shuddering at the pleasure you felt when the soft rope brushed against your clothed heat. he soon got to your arms, carefully tying them behind your back. once he was done, wonbin took a step back to appreciate how beautiful you looked, a blush creeping up his cheeks as he smiled in satisfaction.

sure, his knots weren’t as clean as his reference but you still looked amazing. keeping his plaid shirt on you was the best decision he made, practically salivating as wonbin saw it clinging onto every curve. it was unbuttoned low enough that it teased your cleavage, nipples already hard and poking through your shirt. the rope was digging through and emphasizing them beautifully that wonbin couldn’t take his eyes off.

“you look breathtaking, y/n.”

you felt shy, not used to being stared at like this, especially not when you felt this vulnerable. wonbin noticed your skin flushing up, chuckling softly as he leaned forward.

”do you feel comfortable, baby? nothing tugging at you uncomfortably or causing you any pain?” you shook your head, staring up at him with doe eyes. wonbin laughs, cooing at you; he knew you were itching to get touched.

he ran his hands over the rope, biting down on his bottom lip as he grabbed your tits. the rope held them up nicely, jiggling ever so slightly whenever he played with the strings.

you pouted playfully, “i know this is the only reason you wanted to try this in the first place.” wonbin smiled sheepishly, giving you a small nod. his hands ghosted over your bound skin, sending electricity through your body. you let out a whimper, gasping softly as you looked at him.

wonbin thought you looked absolutely adorable like this, grinning as he helped you stand on your feet. you were a bit unsteady since you were sitting on your legs but wonbin held you tightly. he walked you towards a full-length mirror, placing his hands on your shoulder as he pushed you closer.

he had a huge smile on his face, “look at how amazing you look, baby.” you bit your lip, staring at your figure through the mirror and you could understand why wonbin was so obsessed with the idea of you getting all tied up. wonbin pressed a kiss on your cheek, resting his chin on your shoulder, “would be nice if i could have you suspended in the air too but we could take our time, right?”

you giggled softly, feeling his bulge against your tied hands. wonbin licked his lips, smiling as he rubbed himself against your bounded hands. “this is fun too, baby,” you laughed, staring at his reflection. wonbin’s brows furrowed, breathing shakily as he moved.

”mm, getting tied up like this isn’t so bad, bbin.” wonbin chuckled, pressing kisses all over your skin. “how do you wanna do this, babe?” you peeked over your shoulder, smiling as wonbin kissed you on the lips. he had his hand on your neck, gently pulling your closer to deepen the kiss.

you moaned softly, starting to find your situation a bit inconvenient when all you wanted to do right now was to have your arms over his shoulders and run your fingers through his hair. wonbin seemed to share the same feelings, pulling away a bit too soon with a small pout on his lips. ”guess i’m missing out on your touch for tonight.”

wonbin gripped on your thighs, pushing them apart and pressing his body against yours so that you’d lean your upper body on the mirror. “is this comfortable for you, y/n?” you gave him a quick nod, moaning as the rope dug through your core, the knot hitting against your clit.

”fuck, bbin, this feels amazing,” you gasped, rolling your hips as you focused on your own pleasure.

”you like that? i like it too, y/n. you look so cute like this,” wonbin giggled, licking his lips at the pathetic sight of you humping the air so desperately. he decided to give you a hand, hooking a finger through the ropes and tugging on it lightly, eliciting a loud cry from you. “that’s it, baby. feels better?”

your thighs trembled, barely holding yourself up as you melt from all the pleasure. wonbin slipped your panties to the side, sinking his fingers into your wet heat. “oh my god, bbin!” you shuddered, head spinning as he kept pressing his fingers against your sensitive spot while you rocked your hips. “fuck, fuck— right there,” you whined.

wonbin watched your reactions for a while, biting on his bottom lip when your walls clenched down on him. he pulled out quickly, leaving you whiny and desperate. he cooed at you, massaging your thighs with his hands. “wouldn’t be fun if you came already, y/n. you get tired so quick after all.”

you whimpered, “please, i want to cum.” wonbin shook his head, smiling softly. “bbin, please,” you sobbed, desperately wanting more stimulation. you had no idea how else to convince him, especially now that you were all tied up, trying to see if you could slip off of the knot he made.

”i tied you up so well, didn’t i?” wonbin grinned proudly, watching as you try to break free. “don’t move around too much or it’ll leave marks on your skin, baby.” you frowned, acting up even more, eliciting soft giggles from wonbin.

he ran his fingers through your bound hands, making sure that you wouldn’t hurt yourself from your little tantrum. ”i can give it to you, baby,” wonbin breathed against your neck, chuckling as you shivered from the contact, “make sure you can keep up, okay?” you nodded quickly, head starting to spin in anticipation.

wonbin let out a soft sigh, pulling his thick cock out to rub it against your bound hands. he winced when you gripped on his shaft, eagerly pumping his length. wonbin threw his head back, groaning at how good your hands felt. “can i make a mess, baby?” he whimpered, breath fanning against your exposed skin as he moved his hips ever so slowly.

you bit your lip, nodding as you watched him through the mirror’s reflections. “do it. make a mess on me, bbin.”

”fuck,” he moaned, pushing his plaid shirt up to cum on your back, hips stuttering as he slotted himself in between your ass. he breathed softly, hands roaming to your front to unbutton the shirt you had on.

wonbin quickly pulled it off, finally seeing your bare skin prettily bound up. he let out a blissful sigh, hungrily taking in every single curve and dip of your body against the rope. “i’m so fucking glad we did this,” he whispered, voice shaking slightly as he looked at you through your reflection, hands moving on their own to cup your tits.

you moaned softly, his fingers pinching and pulling at your hard nipples, drawing out even louder moans from your pretty lips. wonbin trailed kisses along your neck, nipping at your skin as he moaned softly.

”can’t fucking wait,” he grunted, leaning back to push his sweatpants down in a rush, settling in between your legs as he positioned himself properly against your slick entrance. you shuddered in anticipation, whimpering softly as you wait for his thick cock to stretch you out.

wonbin always lacked the patience when it comes to you, not wasting any time when you were right in front of him, wanting him just as much. you were grateful he’d never put you through something like that, whimpering for him to hurry up.

he smiles at your reflection, “i love you, y/n,” he whispered sweetly before slamming deep inside you. wonbin winced at your tightness, walls swallowing his cock deeper and deeper. he cooed into your ear, hands busily tugging on the rope by your stomach as he slowly moved his hips.

you were already a moaning mess and wonbin was barely getting started, rolling his hips against your plush ass. “you like that, baby? feel how deep i’m reaching?” wonbin asked breathily, reaching one hand down to press on your lower stomach. he smiled when you moaned louder in response, watching your reflection in amusement.

”look at you, y/n, so fucking pretty— fuck,” wonbin moaned, brows furrowing as he tried to focus on your ruined reflection through the mirror. the ropes were digging through your soft skin, leaving a red mark behind with every frantic thrust. he ran his tongue through his teeth, grinning deviously as he grabbed your flushed cheeks in his hand, forcing you to look at yourself.

wonbin leaned in, smiling as he pressed gentle kisses along your jaw, a huge contrast to his inhumanely rough thrusts. your mouth dropped open, moans pouring out as your legs barely kept you up.

you desperately grabbed on the hem of his shirt, crying out as your orgasm approached fast. he cooed against your ear, “close already, baby? stay with me a bit more.” wonbin buried his face in the crook of your neck, panting and moaning as his cock twitched deep inside your walls.

”wonbin! i can’t— please! please, baby!” you sobbed, leaning against the mirror as your body trembled from your orgasm. you could barely keep yourself up, wonbin effortlessly holding you up by gripping on the knot around your back with just one hand. the ropes were digging against your skin, constantly stimulating your clit with every thrust, prolonging and intensifying your pleasure.

with a smooth groan and a telltale frown on his pretty face, wonbin spilled his thick load deep inside you, hips not stopping until he was satisfied. you cried out sensitively, obscene wet sounds starting to echo in your shared room as wonbin slammed his cock desperately inside your willing heat.

he let out a drawn out moan, hands starting to dig against your sore skin. wonbin’s hands felt warm, adding to the friction of the ropes. a mix of your juices started to run down your thighs, the sound of wet flesh slapping against each other filling up the room.

“wonbin, baby, i’m already— fuck!” you cried out, thighs trembling as your orgasm washed over you once more. wonbin let out a high pitched whine, hips stuttering as he gripped your hips tightly, almost desperate. he whispered praises against your ear, cock throbbing as your walls clenched down on him.

you shuddered, whimpering at the slow and steady thrusts. wonbin slowed down, pulling his cock out, chest heaving with a low, guttural groan. he pumped his cock hastily, moaning as he began to spill his cum on your back, a deep frown on his face.

”y/n, y/n— fuck,” he mumbled, body tensing up and relaxing, gripping on his cock to milk out the last of his release. you let out a satisfied moan, leaning against the mirror to hold yourself up. “baby,” wonbin whispered, running his hands over your waist, “thank you, baby— you were so good to me, so fucking good.”

you whimpered in response, panting as you stared back at his reflection through the fogged up mirror. the blissful look on his face was enough to reassure you that he enjoyed this as much as you did, a small smile creeping up your face. you nuzzled against his head, chuckling weakly, “i’m glad you had fun.”

wonbin smiled sheepishly, a faint blush creeping up his already flushed skin. he rubbed his lips on your neck, “you know i’m easy to please,” he whispered. wonbin let out a sated sigh, running his hands against your bound skin. “just show these to me and you already got me smiling,” wonbin cupped your tits, grinning mischievously through the foggy mirror.

you laughed softly, letting him cool off by playing with your mounds. you knew how simple he was, though he’d occasionally go through these loops just to find new ways to highlight them.

regardless of how silly it sounds, you knew you’d agree to his requests without a second thought just to keep seeing that pleased smile on his face.

[p0orbaby]

Sweet Child o’ Mine

summary: Ella’s concern reveals a secret you’d been hiding from the team

warnings: pregnancy

a/n: not me living vicariously through my writing

word count: 589

-

“Can I ask you something personal?” Ella asks.

You smile at her despite your slight worry about what it might be. “Go ahead. You’ve never asked for permission before”

Despite her usual loud self, Ella seems closed off, cagey even, and you know something’s definitely up when she lowers her voice to talk. “Do you want me to get you in contact with our dietitian?”

There was a time when you and Ella weren’t this close. Herself having known Alessia for much longer than you have. In the very beginning, she was a friend of Alessia’s who lived parallel to you. You’d like to have thought you’ve come a long way since then, but even so, her question catches you off guard.

You weren’t expecting this topic, and her concern takes you by surprise. You stammer out, “I-, is there a reason you’re asking?” as you try to process what she just said to you.

Ella shifts uncomfortably on the spot, her usual confidence faltering ever so slightly. “Well, I’ve noticed you haven’t been feeling well lately. More toilet breaks. Tiredness. That sort of thing. I just thought maybe it could be related to your diet or nutrition”

It takes a lot to rattle you, but you feel as though you’ve walked through cobwebs. Stunned, you turn to Alessia who has seemingly stopped midway through her task of tying her shoes below you. Her eyes traveling upwards to where you’ve automatically held your stomach. Then to Ella, waiting to see how this conversation will unfold.

In spite of Ella’s attempt to keep things discreet, Mary’s head snaps towards the three of you. And Lotte covers her mouth when she sees where you’ve rested your hand.

“I’ve actually already gone to see a doctor about it” you offer, hoping you may be able to cover yourself for just a while longer.

Naturally, Lotte is the first to connect the dots. “Don’t tell me you’re…?”

Ella frowns and looks around the group, more confused than ever. “What?”

“Tooney” Alessia mumbles, placing a hand on her shoulder for a moment once she’s stood at full height. “We were going to tell you first. We promise. But we wanted to wait until we got the all clear”

She looks at Alessia, then at you. Your lips forming into a straight line. “Please don’t be upset” you plead.

Ella wasn’t stupid. Most of the time at least. But it takes longer than anticipated for her to realise what was going on. But when she did, you could see when it all finally clicked, and a spark appeared behind her eyes. “You’re pregnant?”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

She was on you in a second, arms wrapping around and twirling you around gleefully. Cheers echoing through the enclosed pitch “As if!”

With Alessia's firm instruction to be careful with you, Ella puts you down before the girls gather around to voice their own congratulations. Gentle hugs and kisses to the cheeks by the plenty.

“Can we see?” Mary asks, eyes gleaming.

You step back, making space around you to lift up your shirt. The girls gasp ceremoniously at how big you are already. Commenting on how well you’d kept it hidden.

Craning your neck, you look up and your wife. Her own eyes full of pride and excitement and gratitude as she looks between you and your friends who are examining your stomach.

She squeezes your shoulder knowing that, from the very start, your baby will be surrounded by the best people.

[homestylehughes]

do i know you?

coffee girl: part 2

pairings: luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: y/n's first day on the job, after her encounter big spill with luke hughes. her first day's is going as expected, until she locks eyes with luke, the tension begins to unfold.

wc: 1.6k

warnings: nervous and shy reader and luke. cuteness overload, cussing. fluff? nothing too crazy yet! cliffhanger kinda AGAIN

authors note: OMG HI!! i'm so so sorry it took me forever to get this up. college is actually kicking my ass. (someone help me). ANYWAYS this chapter is more of a filler, more reader focused. we will be getting to the good stuff soon, promise!!! thank you for all of your love and support, so so thankful. like and reblog if you enjoy. as always much love.

happy reading <3

Holy shit I got the job. I got the fucking job. The job that I was late to my interview for, because I ran into cute, sweet, day ruining Luke Hughes, spilling coffee on me and now we’re here.

I'm practically skipping out of the prudential Center, a smile on my face that nothing can take off, even the split coffee on my shirt. 

I start the walk back to my apartment, with a pep in my step. opening my door, my little orange baby Moe greeting me at my feet. 

“Hi, little baby” “mommy got her job” I said to him in a whiney pet voice as I lifted him up into my arms, cradling him into my chest. God, I need more friends, I think to myself.

But none of that matters because I got my dream job, that world is on my side right now. I put Moe back on the ground after our cuddle session, picking up my bag and making my way towards the bathroom. 

I take in my state, Luke's hoodie still covering my body, his scent filling my senses. Letting out a deep sigh, I pulled off the hoodie and put it in my laundry basket. Slowly making my way to my closet, pulling on the first things I find, and plopping myself into my bed. 

My eyes began to slowly close, the events of today filling my mind as I drift off to sleep. 

—

Today is the first day of my job. I'm shitting bricks, I'm not ready for this. You can do this y/n I think to myself, this isn't anything you haven't done before. You are more than qualified for this position. You've worked with athletes before, but these are insanely attractive athletes, but most importantly Luke Hughes is one of them. Fuck…Luke Hughes. 

Im quickly pulled out of my day dream, when the elevator door dings open. Swiftly making my way to my office, my office. 

Walking into the office I call my own, seems unreal, looking around once I set the box of my things on my desk, along with setting my purse in one of the chairs in front of it. Walking around the space taking it all. 

I'm quickly pulled out of my daydream again today when I hear a man's voice behind me. 

“I'm guessing youre y/n y/l/n?” turning around quickly, to meet eyes with the nameless man standing in the doorway.

“Hi yes, I'm y/n, nice to meet you?” I say holding out my hand to the man, whose name I still haven't gotten. “Hi, it's lovely to meet you! I'm Tyler but everyone calls me Ty!” Tyler or I guess ty says, shaking my hand with a smile on his face. 

“I'm guessing you like your place?” Tyler says behind me as we both look around the office, “Yes it's great! I love it already '' I smile back at him.

“Great! Hope you're ready, to meet the team, in about… 5 minutes” he says, as he checks his watch. Oh god, in 5 minutes, i haven't even unpacked yet. Oh gosh what if they all hate me. Oh my god, Luke. Will he remember me??

“I can see everything you're thinking on your face, they're going to love you, the whole team is excited to meet you. It's not everyday we get a female athletic trainer.” Ty says to me pulling me out of my thoughts, calming me down slightly.

“Thank you, i needed that” I sigh out back to him 

“Of course, are you ready?” 

“Yes? I think” Ty chuckles in response, as we make our way out of the office. 

“I'll give you a better in depth tour than the one you've had earlier, later. Sound good?” he says from beside me, nodding my head in agreement. As we make our way through the halls of the center. 

We finally make our way to what I think is the Devils locker room, my heartbeat begins to pick up. 

“The boys finished up practice about 45 minutes ago” Ty says as he's going to open the door, his back now turned to me. “I'm going to go in first to make sure they're all dressed and somewhat put together” he chuckles out to me. 

“Okay, I'll be here,” I say before he enters the locker room. 

It feels like 30 minutes goes by, but it's actually probably only been 2. 

I see Ty head pop out, “y/n, are you ready?” 

“Yes!” NO I  want to say, but I'll keep that to myself. Taking a deep breath, I follow Ty into the locker room. 

Walking in the locker room, I instantly feel 40 pairs of eyes on me. Oh gosh this is scarier than I thought, I say to myself. 

“Gentleman, this y/n, our new athletic trainer!” Ty says gesturing to me, our eyes locking briefly, silently asking me to say something. 

“Hi guys! I'm y/n! I'm really excited to work with guys "I say, as I pause to try and think of something else to say. 

“I'm not going to lie, I'm not sure what else to say… you guys make me nervous.” I laugh nervously. The whole room erupted in chuckles. 

They found that funny? I'll take it. 

“I like her already” I hear a few players chuckle out. My nerves are finally beginning to settle, until I lock eyes with him. Luke. 

It feels like my whole world stops, as his eyes lock with mine, our eyes swimming in each other, his gaze is so strong, it's almost like he’s trying to figure out who I am. 

I'm the first to break contact. Turning around to only get pulled into a conversation with the training staff, as they quickly pulled me out of the locker room, to show me around the rest of the building. 

I can't shake the feeling of Luke's eyes on me, as they show me around. My mind is still foggy from our interaction. 

— 

My “first day” was more of a tour and getting the feel of where everything was. I was even able to get my office together. This is beginning to feel like home I think to myself. Im pulled out my thoughts when I hear a knock on my door.

“Come in!” I shout out, from my desk, my face in the paperwork I'm currently filling out, not bothering to raise my head, thinking it's one of trainers. 

“One second, just trying to do this last bit of paperwork” I say, as my pen is quickly moving across the page. 

“You're okay, take your time” says the voice that I know oh so well, the voice that's been stuck in my head for the last 4 days. 

I slowly bring my head up from my desk, my eyes slowly taking over Luke's figure, taking in his appearance. He's just as beautiful as I member

Quickly snapping out of my trance, clearing my throat “Hi Luke, did you need something?” I ask as politely and professionally as I can. 

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Luke quickly says to me.

“Um.” I am trying to figure out a way to continue this conversation.

I feel Luke's eyes run over my face for the second time today. I see his mouth slowly open, as he runs his hand over his face, letting out a sigh. 

“Oh my gosh, you're the girl I spilt her coffee on like a week ago aren't you?” 

“It's actually been four days but, yes that's me.” I say back letting out a breathlily laugh to my desk. 

“Shit, i'm so so sorry” he rambles out quickly. “Its okay, I promise, it was an accident” 

“But I made you cry, oh my gosh. You were on the way to your interview here, weren't you?”

“Yes I was, but it worked out, I still got the job,” I say, gesturing to the room around us. 

“This is so embarrassing, I'm so sorry.” Luke begins to apologize again. 

“Hey hey, i promise it's okay” i say getting up from my desk, walking around to lean up against the front, to stand in front of Luke. 

“We can start off again on a better foot if you'd like?” I say holding out my hand to him, “Hi, I’m y/n” my hand still being held out in front of him, luke's eyes look me up and before he grasps my hand finally shaking it. “Hi, I’m Luke” he says, staring my eyes. 

“It's nice to meet you” I smile out to him, as our hands drop, his touch still lingering. “You're really pretty when you smile” Luke rasps out to me.

My cheeks begin to heat with a blush, lowering my head, now looking at my feet. 

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

“No, you didn't” i say suddenly “it just surprised me, that's all” 

“Good,” he says quietly, our eyes locked in a soft gaze. 

“I-I should probably get going, let you get back to work.” “Yeah of course, thank you for stopping by” I say, for some reason I don't want him to leave. 

“We’re really happy you're here y/n” luke says to me, there's something about the way Luke says my name, that makes my heart stop for a second. 

“I'm really glad, I'm here too.” 

“Have a great day” he says to me as he makes his way to the door. “You too!” I say turning back to behind my desk. 

Luke turned back once more, to take one final glance in my direction, smiling softly at me again, before closing the door behind him.

I released the breath I didn't even know I was holding out, letting my shoulder fall a little bit.

This job is going to much more difficult than i thought, and it's all because, of my stupid coffee and Luke Hughes. 

[heauxvibez]

Good Girl..

Warning: A sprinkle of smut (18+)

Lying sprawled on the bed, her body draped over the soft cotton sheets, Yasmine nestled into the comfort of his oversized t-shirt. A subtle smile played on her lips as her iPhone buzzed in her hands, each vibration sending a ripple of excitement through her. It felt as if Joe's presence was right there with her, despite the miles that separated them.

Being on the road meant constant communication between them, whether through texts, Facetime, or phone calls. Though she missed him dearly, she appreciated the space that his road trips afforded them. She believes that absence makes the heart grow fonder, and every time they reunited, they cherished every moment together, knowing they'd soon have to part again.

Joe: So, what's on the agenda for tonight?

Yasmine: Hmm, not entirely sure yet. Probably just gonna whip up some popcorn, binge-watch a few episodes of Martin, and call it a night.

Joe: Sounds like a plan. Wish I could be there. As much as I appreciate the road, being home with you sounds way better. I miss you 😞

A blush crept across Yasmine's cheeks at Joe's heartfelt message. It never failed to amaze her how he could evoke such tender emotions with just a few words, even from a distance.

Rolling her eyes playfully, she typed out her response.

Yasmine: Pshh, quit playing Mr. Reigns. Traveling across the country sounds way more exciting than popcorn and tv 😒

Joe: Trust me, being at home with you, feeling your warmth, and hearing your laughter is all I crave right now.

Yasmine's heart fluttered at his words, her pulse quickening with every beat.

Joe: And if I were home, I'd have you in my arms..making you scream my name all night long...

Her breath hitched as she read Joe's message, her imagination running wild with the vivid imagery he painted.

Joe: I can't wait to have you all to myself again, baby girl. Just the thought of you drives me crazy.

Her face burned hotter. She swallowed hard, watching three dots appear on the screen, indicating he was typing again. The dots vanished, replaced by another message. She wasn't prepared for the words that lit up the screen.

God, you have no idea how badly I want you.

She shifted, rubbing her thighs together as she continued to read his message.

I swear, when I get home, I'm tying you to the bed, and you'll cum so many times you'll lose count, baby girl. I promise.

She immediately flipped her phone face down, locking it.

Believe it or not, she had never received such a text from Joe before, so she was taken aback when she read it. It certainly had her worked up, and those words were enough to have her swooning.

It had been ages since they'd been intimate. With his focus on work, there was little time for sex, and she found it cruel of him to send a text like that given their circumstances.

Thoughts of him being there with her, touching her, flooded her mind. It didn't take long before she found herself on her back. With just his t-shirt on, it was easy access for her to slip her hands into her panties. This was the only way she could find pleasure right now, so why not indulge?

Her phone vibrated not once, but twice, and she groaned in frustration as she read the texts.

Don't you dare touch yourself, baby girl. You better wait until I get home.

Buzz

I will tease you until you're in tears. I won't let you cum for hours.

Three more dots appeared as she whimpered at the text.

And don't forget, I still have those cameras installed, so don't test me.

Her hand moved away from where she desired to be touched the most. She needed release, desperately. She groaned, tossing her phone onto the bed and throwing her head back on the pillow.

Her phone vibrated one last time. Buzz.

Good girl.

--------

Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade @empressdede @alichesmi

[anonnluvver]

brett with a very shy reader ? most x readers have a too bold personality for me to relate too lol, gender is unimportant and just headcannons pleaseee :) ty

HIII OMG YALL REQUESTED A WHOOOLLE LOT AND IM SO SORRY IVE TOOK SO LONG TO GET TO THEM BUT I PROMISE I WILL! I’ve just been so busy lately but I’ve finally got some free time on my hands so be ready for looots of posts. ANYWAYS let’s get to it, thanks so much for requesting! (Btw this one is a long one…and cheesy)

Brett x shy reader fluff(gender neutral)

“Deep breathes, okay. You can do this.” You quietly whisper to yourself, nervously fiddling with the seams of your shirt. It’s the first day of your new job in the shadow government at Cognito inc. taking one last deep breath and push the doors open walking up to the front desk. “Hi, im Y/n. Im new here and someone named Reagan said to ask you for instructions.” The secretary just looks you up in down with the blankest expression you’ve ever seen and simply said “go to the 2nd floor, conference room.” You awkwardly look away and thank the lady. Geez so much for good first impressions. Following the mean ladys instructions you stand right in front of the conference doors and give it a quick knock. “Come in!” You hear a women shout. Opening the doors you see who you assume is your boss, Regan. “Hi, I’m Regan your boss . Since of now you are part of the task force.” That was super brief, you thought. You’re a little shocked at how quickly you had been assigned to a job. “Oh um okay, well when do I get to meet this team of mine?” You question her a little scared to meet the rest of your co-workers. “Ah sorry I called you in a bit earlier than everyone else just so you could adjust to your office a bit. I’ll show you the way there then you’ll come back here when your done settling down to meet everyone else.” Regan walks you out to your office and leaves soon after. Your body slumps and your bag falls onto your desk as you sit down. “Well this hasnt been too bad. Regan doesn’t talk too much, which is kind of awkward but I mean so am I.” You talk to yourself in your small office hearing your voice echo a little on the walls from the emptiness in the room. Well I guess I should start heading back I’ve been here a while, sighing you stand up and hesitantly go to the conference room once more. You open the doors to find more people sitting down at the large table in the conference room, all suddenly turning their heads to look at you. In embarrassment your face flushes a little and you look at the floor awkwardly. “Oh, sorry everyone um hi I’m Y/n.” You quietly introduce yourself. “Oh my gosh!” *SQUEEL* “You must be our new co worker!” *gasp* You sharply gasp, surprised by being pulled into a tight hug and squeezed up into the air. Your face grows even hotter and flustered not knowing who is touching you or what to do. You look down to see the person hugging you so tightly and see a tall and really attractive guy. And suddenly your even more flustered if that’s possible. “Brett how many times do we have to tell you, you don’t hug people who don’t know you.” Reagan sighs tiredly, clearly this isn’t the first time he’s done this. “Oh! Right sorry… I’m just so excited to have a new addition to our gang!” He quickly puts you done and apologizes. “Y/n you can come sit down with us now, everyone just introduce yourselves normally please.” Wow, Regan already seems done and the day just started. “Oh okay.” Shit, well where am I supposed to sit? You look to the right and see that weird guy who hugged you patting the seat next to him. You just quickly look away and sit next to Regan on the opposite side from him. You don’t mean to be harsh but you’re just nervous to be close to him. And strange enough he looks sad you didn’t sit next to him. “Alright well I’m Andre Lee, the tasks force one and only biochemist. I also got the good stuff-if you know what I mean wink wink.” He elbows your side while dramatically winking. “You are such a weirdo Andre.” The next girl rolls her eyes at Andre “whatever, I’m Gigi Thompson, best looking one here and PR of the media manipulation department. I’m sure you’ve seen my work because I am everywhere.” She laughs at her own flattery. “And I’m Glen Dolphman, Cognito Inc’s supersoilder and responsible for managing the company’s arsenal.” He says while firmly saluting to the American flag. “Oh and I’m Brett Hand! And uh I guess I just work here.” He laughs awkwardly at the last part as it seems he doesn’t even know why he’s here. “Okay now that everyone has introduced themselves let’s get to business.”

Regans voice just fades out slowly from your head as your distracted by a certain someone. You just stare at him in confusion and curiosity, Brett seems like such a strange yet normal guy. Though as your staring at him you can say he is really cute. Lost in your thoughts you don’t even notice when Brett catches you staring at him at first. He smiles at you and you quickly look away in embarrassment.

Eventually the hours pass you by and your first day on the job was over. You’re glad it was nothing crazy but planning things and paperwork. Reagan promised you’d be safely at the office, just for your first few days. You collect your things from your office and head to your car in the parking lot. Content enough with your first day you decide to get a quick pick me up at Starbucks. You sit at a table by yourself waiting for your vanilla with extra sweet cream foam cold brew, your regular. “Oh hey Y/n, it’s me Brett!” You look at up from your phone in surprise. Brett stood smiling right in front of you. Immediately filled with awkward nervousness you look away from him and down the the table. “Um hi…” you quietly respond to him, clearly not matching his energy. Brett immediately frowns with sadness. “Hey, I’m sorry that I hugged you without your permission. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I was just so excited to meet you! From now on I promise I’ll always ask before touching you.” Surprised at his apology you look up to see him smiling sweetly at you. You feel your cheeks warm up and little and you start to smile just a little. “Thanks, I really appreciate it Brett.” You finally spoke to him while making eye contact! Brett’s eyes light up with happiness, just glad you accepted his apology. Before either of you could say anything else the employee called out your order. “Oh that’s me, sorry Brett I have to go now but um it was really nice to see you.” You grab your bag and coffee and wave goodbye to Brett. Finally at home lying in your bed trying to sleep, you find yourself staring at the ceiling unable to stop thinking about something. Or more like someone. You couldn’t get Brett Hand out of your head and it was unbearable. What was so intriguing about him to you? I mean surely you cant like him you just met. I’m sure it’s just cause your excited about having a new friend. Yes of course, that’s the answer. All these thoughts rush through your head for the next few hours of you sleepless night.

You wave lazily at the front desk lady on your way into the office this morning, tired from you lack of sleep from last night. You drop a few things off at the office and report to the conference room shortly after as Reagan directed. You walk in and it’s just Reagan, seems like your a bit early. “G’mornin.” You mumble and take a sit next to her slumping tiredly in the chair. “Woah you look just like me, what’s wrong?” Reagan questions your tired face knowing it a little too well. You slowly lift your head off the table to look at her with half closed eyes. “Hm? Oh sorry, im just really tired. I couldnt sleep last night and I forgot to get coffee this morning too.” You slur and mumble all your words but it’s clear enough for Reagan to understand what your saying. “Ah I get that but my question is, why were you having trouble sleeping?” And before you could fumble over your words trying to make an excuse the answer bursts right through the doors. “Hey guys! How’s it going?” Brett’s energy is way too much for you this morning so you just put your head back down and doze off as Regan and Brett talk for a bit. Yet before you can fall asleep Brett calls out your name. “Y/n, look up.” “Hm?” You hum and left your head of the table once more to look up at whatever Brett wanted. He was holding out a coffee to you. You wake up a little from the shock and slowly sit up straight. “Is this for me?” You look at him confused. “Yes of course, I swinged by this morning to get you it. it’s a vanilla cold brew with extra sweet cream foam!” He gleefully beams at you. “But that’s what I always get?” You look at him stumped “how do you know my order?” Still confused you question Brett. “Oh well I I remember what order the employee called out yesterday when I saw you.” He smiles once more and you gently reach out your hands to grab the cup. And suddenly your sense of touch heightens when your fingers brush softly against Brett’s as you grab the cold cup. You share one last look with Brett before he quickly jolts up. “Oh! I just remembered I should go find the others. I know they’re here probably just running late.” He smiles and heads off to find the rest of your co workers. You just sit there starring off into space from where Brett last stood. “Hey Y/n” “hello?” “Y/N!” Regan yells at you to wake up from your day dream. “Oh regan, sorry I spaced out.” “Yea I could tell. Now let’s get ready for another stressful meeting.” You fully turn your attention to helping Regan prepare for the day.

Once again the work day is over and it’s time to leave as your walking out to the doors of your office you’re stopped by a certain someone. “Hey Y/n! Great work today.” It’s Brett. “Oh, thanks Brett…” fuck you’re internally screaming. Why does this guy make you so nervous? Hiding your face from Brett inevitable feeling the heat flush to your cheeks once more. “Um by the way, thanks for the coffee. It was really cool of you.” Cool? Gosh I sound like a dork. You internally beat your self up for your stupid choice of words. “No problem! Anything for a pal.” He giggles a little from his own statement and winks at you playfully. “Okay we’ll see you tomorrow Y/n!” And with that you both exchanges waves and goodbyes. Once finally out of eyesight you mentally face palm and groan into your hands. Gosh. That was embarrassing “Honey, I just saw that whole thing and whooh that was awkward.” You quickly turn around to see who saw your embarrassing display with Brett and it was Gigi. “Ugh I know but I just can’t figure out why I’m so awkward around him.” You cringe at just remembering your interaction. And yet you find yourself weirdly comfortable talking to Gigi. “Mmhm I think I know exactly why.” She just gives you an all knowing look up and down. “Really? Please tell me why.” You plead do her to enough you so you can just solve the issue already. “It’s because you like him.” “WHAT?” You accidentally yell out in shock covering your mouth quickly. “I mean, why do you say so?” This time whispering so no one near could hear. “Honey it’s written all over that little face of yours.” You groan loudly at her claim. Could that really be the reason your social skills suck more then usual when talking to Brett? “But I just met him, how could I already like him?” You ask Gigi since she seems to be much more knowledgeable in this aspect. “Well I couldn’t tell you. After all how am I supposed to know why YOU like him? All I know is lover boy seems to be developing a few feelings of his own.” And with that mind breaking statement she leaves you alone with just you and your thoughts. Brett like me?? No way. Not in a million years. These words echoing through your head the whole way home. Throwing yourself over your bed with exhaustion more over your conflicting emotions rather than your heavy work load and eventually passing out.

A few weeks pass and your now comfortable in your new work environment, strange but now familiar. Yet one thing has not changed, the awkwardness you feel when around Brett. And yes those feelings Gigi talked about have not left one bit, in fact you’d say they’ve grown over time. Brett’s nice gestures always make your stomach flutter with butterflies and your heart face like some 3rd grade crush. “Y/nnnn, Come on! He clearly likes you, why not just make a damn move already. Everyone in the office practically knows already! It’s so obvious.” Gigi shouts at you while your just trying to enjoy your sandwich. You asked to have lunch together not a therapy session… “Gigi shhh! Don’t say that so loud!” You sigh and put your sandwich down “look, I like him sure but we don’t know for sure if he does and-“ “OH PLEASE!” Gigi cuts you off abruptly shouting and throwing her arms in the air. “He’s always extra nice to you and trust me Brett’s already way too nice. Plus he’s always bring you little gifts all the time.” She huffs and rolls her eyes at you. “Whatever Gigi, I’m not making any moves so sorry to dissatisfy your office romance fantasies.” You roll you eyes back at her and clean up since your lunch break is over leaving back to your office and go finish up some paperwork for Reagan. “Oh I will get my office romance wether you want it or not.” Gigi talks to herself planning a ‘special’ surprise for you.

*KNOCK* *KNOCK* you sigh getting up from your chair to open the door to your office. “Oh hi Gigi, Reagan, What do you need?” You see the two girls standing in front of your door. “Hey Y/n we were hoping you could help us find something in the chemical closet.” Gigi asks in a weirdly high pitch voice. “Sure,what is it?” You ask wondering what it was they couldn’t find. “Oh follow us then we’ll tell you”. So you follow Reagan and Gigi to the chemical closet and go inside. “It’s called fizzyflupflurp acid.” You can hear one of them trying to hold in a laugh behind you “Really? That sounds kind of stupid.” But before you can say anymore they quickly leave in a rush saying to just call them when you find it since they’re so “busy”. Huh, weird. But I mean this whole place is weird. You just think to yourself as you look through the various viles for ‘fizzyflupflurp’ acid. Suddenly you hear lots of giggling behind you and hear Brett stumble into the closet falling right on to you. He lets out a grunt from the impact of you two colliding and before either of you can get a word out you hear the lock click and Gigi and Reagan giggles burst out into laughter. You push brett aside and rush to the door trying to open the door but it’s locked, pounding your fist on the door in frustration when it doesn’t open. “Let us out!” You yell at the other two behind the door. “Yeah, What are we locked in here for?” Brett chimes in. “Oh I think you know why you’re in there. And we’re not letting you out till one of you spits it out.” You can just hear the smirk on Gigi’s face. You freeze in fear and feel your face turn completely hot and red. “Gosh no.” You breathlessly whisper to yourself not wanting to turn around and face Brett. “AH OKAY I ADMIT IT,” Brett suddenly yells out “I MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE STALKED YOUR SOCIAL MEDIA TO LEARN YOUR FAVORITE THINGS.” Brett winces as if you might yell at him for what he’s done. “Brett what? No, this isn’t what this is about. And that’s not a horrible thing Brett im not mad at you for it but it is kinda weird…” you sigh preparing yourself to ruin your small friendship with Brett and make it awkward for the rest of your career. “Then what is it about?” Brett asks confused to what other secret needed sharing. “Well it’s… it’s- gosh um” SPIT IT OUT ALREADY internally yelling at yourself to get it over with. “I like you.” You say extremely quite almost enough for Brett to not hear. “Oh well I like you too Y/n! You’re a great friend, that’s no secret.” He laughs at you for your ‘silly’ secret that he just doesn’t seem to understand. “No, Brett. I like like you. As in romantically.” You muster out clarifying things for Brett. It’s silent. Way too silent that you look up to see his expression and he looks so, shocked? Panicked you start apologizing “look Brett I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable I jus-“. Oof is the noise you let out from being knocked back into the closet door. “Brett?” “I’m sorry, I know I said I’d ask next time before hugging you but I just really needed to this time.” He whispers softly and your heart just melts. You hug him back tighter than ever happy he isn’t upset. “I like like you too Y/n” he quietly says nuzzling into your neck and gently squeezes you reassuringly.

I AM SO SORRY I TOTALLY READ THIS REQUEST WRONG I DONT KNOW HOW 😭. well regardless I hope some of you like it but I am truly sorry anonymous hope you can forgive me🙏.

[blog-name-idk]

Mold a Pretty Lie | 08

Pairing: professor!Jin x Fem undergrad!Reader

Genre: College!AU, Unhealthy relationships, toxic relationships, virgin reader, eventual yandere, eventual smut

Summary: They say love is like a garden that requires regular care and attention. Kim Seokjin, your kind and handsome professor, is more than happy to cultivate the vines that bind his heart to yours.

Word Count: 6746

Rating: 18+

AN: TY to my beloved @matchy6812 and @madbutgloriouspond (whom this fic is FOR 💜💜💜) for beta-ing and general awesomeness and support. Also I T ' S H A P P E N I N G ! ! !

~~~~~

"This is highly inappropriate," you heard Dr. Kim arguing as you tried to wrap your head around what the concierge had just said. "What about the rooms for my colleague and their student?"

"Unfortunately the university already canceled their reservation," the receptionist replied apologetically after clicking through the computer. "It looks like when their rooms were canceled, they accidentally included a third. We can have a cot put into your room, but otherwise we are completely booked for the conference, along with most of the hotels in the area."

Sharing a room? With your beautiful professor? Who you had kissed and still couldn't stop thinking about despite all common sense telling you to stop? What even was your life right now?

Your chest twisted guiltily as you caught the frown on Dr. Kim's face, killing any of your budding excitement. How could you feel that way when you had already put him in an uncomfortable position? And it would probably look strange or suspect for him if word got out that he shared a room with a female student, no matter how necessary the circumstances.

"Professor," you began, feeling your face warm when he turned to look at you. "I'm fine with whatever you decide. If this is the only option then I promise I'll do my best not to bother you."

Dr. Kim stared at you with an indecipherable expression on his face, his normally friendly gaze so intense you began to twist at your shirt. Did he really despise the idea that much?

"Let me make a few calls first," he finally replied, pulling his phone out and walking a short way away, leaving you standing awkwardly with your carry-on. God, you had really fucked up when you had kissed him. Why did you have to be such an idiot? He obviously didn't believe you wouldn't do something, he was just too kind to tell you to your face.

Feeling morose, you moved out of the way so others could check in, and settled yourself on a couch in view of your professor.

"Can I take your bag, miss?"

You started when a bellboy appeared by your side, a smile on his face as he held his hand out questioningly.

"Oh – thank you, but not quite yet," you answered apologetically, smiling back at him. "We're trying to figure out a mix-up with reservations, we were supposed to have separate rooms."

You meant it as an explanation because you didn't want your professor to look like some opportunistic predator, but for some reason the bellboy's smile brightened.

"It happens sometimes," he agreed, giving you a commiserating look that made you feel a little better about the awkward situation. "Is this your first time in the area?"

"Yeah, me and my professor are here for the conference," you replied, relieved he didn't seem to think anything odd about the situation. He didn't look that much older than you, and you wished the other student was here so you would have had someone else your age to talk to. It really sucked that she had won and couldn't even make it. "There were supposed to be a couple others, but they got sick."

"Well, if you get tired of hanging out with a bunch of old brainiacs I wouldn't mind showing you around."

The offer took you by surprise, and you felt a moment of panic. Was he being friendly or was he hitting on you? Why were you even full of yourself enough to believe he was hitting on you?

"Um, that might be nice," you began cautiously, at a complete loss for what to say. He was kind of cute, and maybe it would be better to spend time away to lower the probability of making an idiot out of yourself again. But he was a total stranger whose name you didn't even know. And what would Dr. Kim think if you left the hotel just to hang out with some random guy after the whole Taehyung thing?

"I believe that couple needs help with their luggage."

You looked up to see that your professor had joined you, and was looking at the bellboy with narrowed eyes and something very near a glare.

"Of course, sir," the bellboy nodded politely before turning back to you. "I'll be working here til four if you end up having time."

With a grin that was now definitely flirtatious, he turned to go back to work, leaving you with your frowning professor. You felt yourself wilting at the disapproval emanating from his form, until he turned to you and his face softened.

"Is everything alright?"

What did that mean? The bellboy hadn't really been bothering you, necessarily. Or was he talking about the rooming situation? Was he concerned that you would neglect the conference to go gallivanting with some stranger? Perhaps he really did just think you were a flighty party girl.

No, he knew you took your work and responsibilities seriously. Hadn't he praised you enough, even offered for you to continue working with him despite all of your embarrassing missteps?

"Um, yes, why wouldn't it be?" you asked tentatively, peeking up to see that Dr. Kim's smile had tightened at your words. Was he annoyed that you might spend time with the nameless bellboy? Or were you just projecting something you wished was the case?

"The keynote speech starts early tomorrow, and the student talks are right after," he finally replied. "I wouldn't suggest staying up too late tonight."

So he did think you might go off with the bellboy. And he wasn't bothered by that, but because he thought it might affect your presentation. Great. Just great.

"Thanks, professor," you said with a sigh, hoping you could somehow change however he saw you to a responsible adult. "I didn't particularly want to spend time with a stranger but I didn't want to be rude."

"Always so considerate," he teased, his face relaxing. To your relief, he smiled at you and held out a hand to help you up. "You're allowed to be selfish too, you know."

You took it, despite not needing the aid. His skin was warm against yours, and he tugged a little harder than you expected, bringing you close. His dark eyes gazed down at you and you stared back, completely bewitched.

"Am I?" you asked a little breathlessly before you could stop yourself, drawn to him as if invisible tendrils were binding your heart onwards. His eyes widened in surprise, and you suddenly came to your senses, letting go and turning to adjust the zipper on your carry-on. "Er, so were you able to figure something out?"

You internally cringed at your obvious behavior and terrible subject change, too embarrassed to look back at Dr. Kim. Why did you keep doing this?

"Unfortunately there aren't any other options," was the unexpected reply. "I hate to ask this of you, but…"

He trailed off and you turned back to look at him in surprise. Dr. Kim was still open to the idea? Even after you had just – whatever you had just done? And he was acting as if it was an imposition on you, letting the two of you pretend you weren't constantly embarrassing yourself. He really was too good to you.

~~~~~

The hotel room was at least decently sized and would fit the promised cot easily, though Seokjin wasn't sure how he would be able to sleep knowing you were right there, so near and yet out of his reach. But the sight of the obnoxious bellboy making eyes at you had him hanging up the phone and striding towards you before anyone even picked up.

And despite your assurances to the contrary, over your shoulder he had seen the bellboy glance your way. He didn't trust the boy not to show up to your room unannounced if he managed to find some alternate accommodation, and well – if sharing meant he'd be able to keep a better eye on you then perhaps that was the best option anyway. Besides, it was already late enough that finding a new place would have taken too long for a decent night's rest.

It would be fine. He was an adult, not some hormonal college kid who couldn't keep it in his pants. He had enough self-control not to take advantage of a student. No matter how captivating you happened to be, or how much you consumed his thoughts.

"Professor, I'm done in the bathroom."

Your quiet voice broke through his inner musings and he looked up, only to wish he hadn't. You were wearing an oversized t-shirt that almost hung off your shoulder, revealing a tempting amount of collarbone. Your bare legs taunted him, and Seokjin wondered whether you were wearing shorts under your shirt.

You had also washed your face, looking so soft and sweet he felt his own ears heating up as he drank you in.

"Thanks, [y/n]. I might shower, so feel free to turn off the lights as long as you keep one of them on so I don't embarrass myself by running into anything."

Seokjin swallowed hard, unable to miss the way your eyes had widened when he said the word shower. Your gaze darted to the bathroom, then back to him with an expression that was slightly hazier than before.

He knew you were still attracted to him. It was obvious in the way your breath quickened when he gave into temptation and let himself touch you with seemingly innocuous gestures, in the way your eyes always sought him out first in a room.

He knew he was to blame. Jin was supposed to know better, to be better, but every time you smiled he found it difficult to care.

Now here the two of you were, alone in a hotel room, protected only by the fraying strands of his self control. He couldn't stop himself from wondering what thoughts were swirling behind those pretty eyes of yours. Were you picturing what it might be like for you to join him?

His pants tightened at the thought of you bare and wet with water rolling down your soft skin, and he suppressed a groan as he tore his eyes away from you and gathered his things. Well fuck, now he really needed a long shower.

Seokjin let himself stand under a blast of cool water, willing himself to calm down and stop thinking of you. Unfortunately his traitorous brain had other plans, tormenting him with the hint of collarbone you had shown, your pretty lips, and the way your eyes had darkened at the thought of him in the shower.

"Fuck," he groaned quietly, wrapping his hand around his hard length as he gave in. Had he locked the door? Did it even matter? What if you came in, clothes already off to slip into the shower with him?

You would probably look uncertain, embarrassed by your boldness, and he would kiss the hesitation off your face until you were soft and yielding in his embrace. You would let out that little sigh he couldn't erase from his mind and wrap your arms around his shoulders while the water ran over the two of you, washing away any evidence of his sins.

What other sounds could he coax out of you? Jin let out a little groan as he pumped harder, haunted by the enticing whimpers and moans he pictured leaving your lips while he explored everything your body had to offer.

And you were such a good girl. You might sink to your knees before him, looking up at him with wide eyes for permission before wrapping your pretty, perfect lips around his cock.

You would struggle with his size, eyes watering as you tried to take him deeper despite gagging on his length. But you would persevere, staring up with him with glassy, determined eyes as you swallowed around him.

"Fuck, fuck," he cursed softly through gritted teeth, feeling his balls begin to tighten. He sped up his pace, hips thrusting into his grip as images of you, perfect and pliant, flooded his mind. "Shit, [y/n]."

As soon as your name left his lips and he came hard, groaning as ropes of thick, white cum swirled down the drain. Along with his pride and dignity. He shuddered in pleasure, panting as he let go of his softening member, and closed his eyes as guilt began to set in.

In the clarity of his release, he let the cool water wash over his burning skin as he stood, dumbfounded and unsure of what to do next. How could he go out there and face you after this? Could he even look you in the eye, knowing that this had really been only the tip of the iceberg of the depraved things he wanted to do to you?

There was a knock on the door and he jumped, heart pounding. You wouldn't… would you? His cock gave a traitorous twitch.

"Professor," you called through the closed door. "I'm going to bed. I'll leave the reading light on for you."

"Okay, good night, [y/n]," he called back, surprised by the steadiness of his voice. At least he wouldn't have to face you until tomorrow morning.

When he finally left the bathroom, already wearing his pajamas, you were nestled under the covers of the cot and fast asleep. He gave a fond, exasperated sigh - the two of you had argued long and hard over who would get the bed, and he assumed he had won. He smiled at your sleeping face, your mouth a little open, almost forgetting his earlier shame in the surge of fondness that filled his chest.

"Sneaky," he murmured appreciatively before moving to the large queen-sized bed and pulling back the covers. He paused, then padded quietly back to your sleeping figure and pulled off your covers gently before his breath hitched. Your shirt had ridden up past your hips, exposing your bellybutton and a mouth-watering expanse of bare skin. You were in fact wearing shorts, not that it made much of a difference considering how tiny they were, and Jin swallowed hard as his eyes roved over your defenseless form. You were so beautiful it hurt, and before he could stop himself he was brushing a stray lock of hair out of your face.

A sleepy little grumble made him freeze, but when you made no other motion or noise he relaxed. As gently as he could, he slid his arms beneath you to pick you up, and you instinctively snuggled into his chest, making his heart jolt.

Your body nestled perfectly against his, and he couldn't resist brushing his nose against your hair to take in the scent of your shampoo. Then he forced himself to deposit you onto the queen bed, resisting the urge to crawl in next to you, and tucked the covers firmly around your sleeping figure.

When he finally burrowed into the sheets of the cramped cot, he stared up at the ceiling, mind racing. The pillow smelled like you, and he breathed in, feeling your scent wrap its sweet tendrils around his heart.

He was so fucked.

~~~~~

You awoke to the sound of two alarms ringing, feeling comfortable. Too comfortable.

Your suspicions were confirmed when you sat up and realized you were in the queen bed. Chagrin warred with embarrassment when you realized he must have carried you into bed, and you felt warmth flood your body at the thought of your professor's arms around you.

Part of you wailed that you had slept through it. Another part of you was relieved, because you weren't sure if your heart could have taken it if you were awake.

You looked over to the cot to see Dr. Kim sprawled out on it, mouth hanging open as his feet almost dangled off the edge, and had to suppress a giggle. He looked almost comical in the cramped space, and he seemed to be wearing a matching pajama set with cute llamas dotting the fabric.

It was disarming to see him looking so silly and casual, a far cry from the polished professor you were used to. You had always seen him as perfect and put together, far out of your league and impossible to reach. But like this he looked so young, and for a moment you let yourself dream.

Still, you weren't going to let him get away with it no matter how cute he looked.

Nodding to yourself, you pushed out of bed and marched over to your professor, reaching forward to gently shake his broad shoulder. He grumbled cutely, a furrow appearing in his brow as he tried to turn away from you.

"Professor," you whisper-shouted, shaking him more insistently as you tried not to laugh. To your surprise, his hand snaked to grab your wrist; he pulled, and you toppled on top of him with a surprised squeak. Strong arms wrapped around you and you instinctively melted into his chest, letting his warmth fill your senses.

Then you realized what you were doing, taking advantage of your professor's sleepy state to get what you wanted, and shame flooded you. You pushed against his chest to get up, but his hold only tightened.

"Professor!" you said more loudly, wondering how the hell you were going to explain this. His eyes began to drift open, and when they met yours his lips curved into a drowsy smile. Your heart hammered in your chest at the thought that he was happy to wake up to you.

But then lucidity crept into his gaze, his eyes widened and his arms loosened. Feeling your stomach sink, you scrambled off of him and took several steps backwards, as if that could somehow erase his memory.

"[Y/n]?" he asked, looking confused and still a little sleepy. Your heart plummeted as you wondered if Dr. Kim had thought you were someone else – someone he wanted to wake up to. Of course he probably had someone.

"I'm so sorry!" you stammered, looking at your feet as shame warred with disappointment. "I was trying to wake you up, and you pulled me in your sleep, and I lost my balance, and…"

You realized you were babbling, and shut up as Dr. Kim stared at you with an unreadable expression. Did he believe you? God, he probably thought you were a perv who couldn't keep from throwing herself at him. And after you had promised him not to do anything, too.

"I've been told I get clingy when I sleep," he finally responded with a chuckle, relaxing. Your relief was marred by the bitter taste of jealousy. You envied the lucky person who had that firsthand experience. Then you forced the thought out of your head, knowing it was none of your business, and remembered what you had meant to do in the first place.

"I can't believe you switched us," you complained, crossing your arms and glaring at him as menacingly as you could. His full lips began to twitch into a smirk that made you forget your annoyance, and possibly your name.

"And I can't believe you disobeyed your professor like that," he teased, eyes twinkling as he pushed back his covers and got up. It was a matching set, and it was unbearably cute that your older, beautiful professor was wearing it. The top couple buttons were undone, and you cast about in your head for any reply while you tried not to ogle the toned chest peeking out at you.

"Well at your age you should think more about your back," you shot back before you could stop yourself. His eyebrows shot up at your snark, and he stepped a little closer to you.

"Calling me an old man?" he asked, tone still amused, though something else you couldn't identify gleamed in his eyes. You wanted to step backwards, but something kept you rooted to the spot, as if vines had sprouted up from the ground and locked you into place.

"U-um, I just meant older," you stuttered meekly, your brief flare of defiance fading with each step he took towards you. You stared at your feet as he came closer, until fingers dipped below your chin to tilt your face up to meet his.

"Hmm, so that should mean I know better, shouldn't it?"

Dr. Kim's voice was still husky from sleep, and something in his eyes sent heat rushing through you as you stared at him like a deer in the headlights. The way he said it made you wonder if he was talking about something else, and you gave an involuntary shiver you hoped he didn't notice.

You licked suddenly dry lips as your pulse quickened, but before your mind could get too carried away, he stepped backwards and walked past you to the bathroom.

"I'm going to take a quick shower," he called over his shoulder. "But I shouldn't be long."

You blinked as the door closed behind him, taking the time to let your racing heart settle to a pace akin to normal. Hadn't he just showered last night? He really liked to be clean, apparently.

You tried not to dwell on the fact that he was naked just a few feet away from you, divided by only a wall and a door. It had been hard enough last night, and now you had that dark glint in his eye filling your head, the underlying croon in his voice, and the memory of his arms wrapped around your body.

A part of you knew that he was perhaps a bit touchier than a professor should be. But the idea that your handsome, brilliant, and kind professor paid you special attention made your chest feel warm. Perhaps nothing could ever happen, but you wished you could somehow bottle up the way he made you feel in moments like these. Maybe then you wouldn't so pathetically hope for more.

With a sigh, you went to the closet to pull out the clothes you hung there the night before. You had already decided on what to wear for the three days of the conference. The pathetic, hopeful part of your brain hoped the professional clothing would make you seem more like a woman to Dr. Kim, someone worthy of his attention. You had agonized over what to bring for an embarrassingly long period of time. It was foolish – selfish – of you to want more when that would be nothing but catastrophic for him, when he had already told you it was impossible, but your heart refused to heed your advice.

You doffed your pajamas and pulled on your well-fitting pants, admiring how perky it made your butt look in the mirror. Remembering your underthings were in your suitcase, you hurried over to grab a bra, sliding your arms through the straps and fiddling it as you walked back to the closet. Your fingers fumbled over the hooks as you struggled to clasp them, and then the bathroom door opened and you froze, staring at a wide eyed, shirtless Dr. Kim.

"I-I forgot to bring in my clothes," he stuttered, sounding like something was strangling him. You couldn't stop yourself from ogling at his gloriously toned chest and abs, or the way his towel was slung low around his hips, revealing hip bones that made your mouth water. Was it normal for academics to be so – so fit?

You were so distracted by his naked chest that you didn't notice the way he was similarly captivated. His own eyes roamed the bare skin of your shoulders, your stomach, and the way your bra was hanging teasingly off of your breasts.

Suddenly you came to your senses and whirled around at the same exact time he did.

"Tell me when I can turn around," you heard him say in that same choked tone, and you wondered if he could hear the way your heart was pounding from across the room. Your fingers didn't want to cooperate, but you were finally able to hook your bra and you almost flew into the blouse you had chosen to wear. Despite your clumsiness you were able to button it up relatively quickly, and finally you turned back around, pulse picking back up as you took a moment to appreciate the way Dr. Kim's broad shoulders tapered into a slim waist. Of course his back was also perfect.

"You're good," you said softly, tearing your gaze away to fiddle with the bottom button of your shirt, too embarrassed to look your professor in the eye. You heard him take quick steps toward the closet where his own clothes were hung up and flushed, belatedly wondering if you should have moved out of the way. You shuffled to the side as you felt warmth and the smell of soap wash over you, and his arm brushed your shoulder as he reached to pluck his own clothes off the hanger.

"Sorry about that," he whispered into your ear, his breath hot against your skin. You let out a squeaky noise of response, eyes fixed on your feet as you tried to ignore how close he was standing. Then his body heat vanished and he retreated to the bathroom, door clicking firmly shut behind him.

Feeling lightheaded, you moved to fall face-first onto the bed with a muffled thump. You were not going to survive this conference.

~~~~~

Three days. Seokjin just needed to hold out for three days, and he could go back to sleeping alone without being blessed and cursed by your constant proximity. He took a deep breath before releasing it in a slow exhale as he did his tie in the bathroom mirror, wondering how exactly you would inadvertently tempt him next.

His morning jerk off session had been in vain, and all he could think of was your bare skin and the little noise you had made when he had leaned in close. You had no idea what you were doing to him, a pretty, innocent little lamb walking willingly into his clutches.

It made him want to protect you, cradle you in his arms against anything that might hurt you. It made him want to bend you over the bed and ruin you for anyone who wasn't him.

"I'm ready, Professor," you called as you stepped out of the bathroom, hair and make up done, blouse tucked into your slacks, wearing heels that drew his eyes to the curve of your backside. You still couldn't meet his eyes, which allowed him to drink you in without fear of being caught. Still, this wouldn't do. As endearing as it was, he didn't want you to be embarrassed forever, or for others at the conference to sense something might be amiss.

"[Y/n]."

At his tone, you forced yourself to look up, and he gave you a reassuring smile even as he admired the way your lipstick emphasized the pout of your lips. You looked so lovely, professional and subtly sexy with an outfit that emphasized your figure without announcing it. If it weren't for your doe-eyes and flushed cheeks, you could have passed as one of his colleagues, albeit with a younger face.

"Come here."

Jin sat on the queen sized bed and patted the spot beside him. You obeyed without hesitation despite your apprehension, and he smiled.

"I-I'm really sorry about earlier," you stammered, eyes fixed on your hands, which were in your lap. "I wasn't trying to - I thought you were going to take longer."

"I should have warned you, too," he replied, hesitating just slightly before he gave in and rested his hand on your shoulder. He knew he shouldn't keep doing this, keep entering your personal space or touching you, but he couldn't help himself. You were like a drug he couldn't get enough of. "Let's just pretend nothing happened, and be more careful in the future, okay?"

Your muscles relaxed at his words and you finally turned your head to peek up with him, a tentative smile touching your lips. "Okay," you agreed, looking so sweet he had to restrain himself from doing something that would make his earlier words useless.

"Good girl," he responded, and the way you shivered at his praise made him wonder just what else you liked to be called. He was playing a dangerous game, but you were impossible to resist. "Now let's get some breakfast. I'm starving."

~~~~~

"In short, phyto and zooplankton populations appear to be in a dangerously fast decline in the world's oceans," you explained, flicking your presentation to its final slide. You cast your gaze over the audience to lock eyes with Dr. Kim, who was grinning with undeniable pride on his face. Your chest fluttered, and you continued your presentation with renewed confidence.

"With their position as the basis of the food chain for marine life everywhere, it will likely lead to even more disastrous results than are already being witnessed. Fishing villages have been reporting worse catches year after year, and fishing trawlers are crossing over international lines to reach their quotas, which will have both economic and political ramifications."

Another handsome man was nodding along with your words, cheeks dimpling into an approving smile, and you felt another surge of delight that your work was being so well-received.

"Unless policies are put into place to protect these fragile ecosystems, these shortages will only grow worse. We need to urge stronger guidelines and restrictions on waste disposal and climate change, otherwise the damage we are causing to these ecosystems may be irrevocable."

You clicked your presentation shut, feeling your cheeks heat up at the applause as the lights in the room turned back on.

"Thank you for such an enlightening report," said the mediator, smiling at you and then looking out at the row of seats. "We will now commence the five-minute Q&A, does anyone have any questions?"

A few hands popped into the air, including that of the handsome, dimpled man. Your chest thumped as you nervously prayed that you would be able to answer everything adequately, and you met Dr. Kim's eyes again for reassurance. He made a goofy face as he gave you a thumbs up, and you felt your nerves settle. The mediator gestured towards Dr. Dimples, and he stood as someone passed him a microphone.

"That was a lovely presentation, Miss [L/n]," he began in a pleasant baritone, eyes crinkling into a warm smile. You felt your face flush despite yourself, and distractedly wondered if you had a thing for older men. "The ocean is vast, and often some findings can be exclusive to a specific area. How has this been accounted for in your research?"

"Great question," you began brightly, relaxing as you realized this was something you could answer quite easily. You smiled at the man as you continued. "You are correct, hard numbers did vary amongst different samples, but…"

You were able to answer every other inquiry just as easily, and you felt your confidence build with each response. What you didn't notice was the way Dr. Kim's smile had faded, and the way his jaw clenched every time you smiled at someone who wasn't him.

~~~~~

"Wonderful job, [y/n]," murmured Dr. Kim quietly when you took your seat next to him.

You felt your body heat up at his praise, and you couldn't help but beam at him. Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much, but you couldn't help it, high off adrenaline and triumph and your professor's approval. He gave a quiet chuckle at the way you were practically vibrating next to him, setting a warm hand on your knee to settle you down before the next presentation.

You tried not to read too much into it, especially since his touch vanished as quickly as it arrived, but it was impossible. Instead of paying attention, you spent the entirety of the next talk hyper-aware of his presence beside you, daydreaming about what it might have felt like if he had kept his hand there.

Would it have stayed innocently in place for the entire presentation? Maybe his fingers would have drawn absent-minded patterns against your stockinged skin as he listened to the lecturer, clueless to the effect he was having on you. Or perhaps he would have dragged those digits teasingly up your thigh, to rest just shy of where you wanted him most.

With a start, you realized the lights had flicked back on and everyone around you was applauding. Holy shit, had you just spent an entire twenty minute presentation daydreaming about your professor's hand not even actually touching you? You shifted in your seat uncomfortably to ease the ache between your legs, realizing your underwear had grown uncomfortably damp.

"Are you alright?"

Hearing Dr. Kim's husky voice, breath hot against your ear, was certainly not helping the state of your body. You squirmed again, too embarrassed to meet his eyes, and thus unable to see the way they flashed darker when he saw your thighs clench.

"J-just a little tired," you mumbled, looking anywhere but at your beautiful, concerned professor. You had literally just promised him earlier that you wouldn't be weird, and here you were fantasizing right next to him. You were the worst.

"It does get a little tiring to sit through talk after talk," he whispered conspiratorially, voice laced with humor. "Did you know that once I fell asleep and woke myself up by snoring during a lecture?"

You giggled in spite of yourself, picturing a cute Dr. Kim with his mouth open, a hint of drool at the corner of those plump lips.

"Are you sure you should be telling me that?" you asked with a grin, finally able to look straight at him and immediately regretting it when his smile pierced your heart. "You're a bad influence, professor."

Something in his eyes shifted at your words, and though his smile didn't change you suddenly felt exposed under his gaze as he responded.

"You have no idea."

~~~~~

Objectively, the conference was going incredibly well. You had absolutely killed your presentation, and Seokjin was currently watching from afar with a glass of wine as you mingled with the other conference-goers. While he had been with you initially, introducing you to a few colleagues here and there, he had backed off to let you handle things on your own. It was important for you to network, and having him hovering over you as if you couldn't speak for yourself would do you no favors.

Even if he absolutely hated it.

He took a long sip of the burgundy liquid, letting it slide down his throat as he watched Namjoon fucking Kim, marine biologist and wunderkind, introduce himself. Seokjin tried not to read into the excited way you answered whatever question he had posed, or the way you flushed when the man aimed his deadly dimples in your direction. He had no right to feel this way, no claim to your smiles or laughter or – why the fuck was he touching you?

"Dr. Kim!"

The surprised cry brought him back to reality, and he realized that his hand was wet with a mixture of wine and blood. There was glass stabbing into his palm and yet he could barely feel it over the rage eating at his chest.

"Oops," he said with a forced chuckle as one of the caterers rushed towards him with a cloth napkin. "I guess I don't know my own strength."

His colleague relaxed slightly at his nonchalance, giving an awkward snort as he took a sip of his own glass.

"I swear, you take absent-minded academic to a whole new level," he teased. Anything further was interrupted when you arrived, somehow beating the caterer.

"Professor!" you exclaimed, looking worried and frantic as you grabbed his hand, uncaring of the glass around your feet. Seokjin glanced at where you had come from, and saw Namjoon Kim staring after you looking more than a little disappointed. Another surge of irritation ran through him. Didn't he know you were way too young for him?

"Do you have a first-aid kit?" you asked the employee who had finally arrived, grabbing the napkin from him without asking and holding it gently beneath Jin's bleeding hand. The roaring in his chest faded to a muted buzz at the tender way you were touching him, careful not to dislodge any of the glass piercing his skin.

"Not here," squeaked the employee, staring wide-eyed at the red dripping to the floor and looking a little green around the edges. "Each room has one though."

"Let's go," you ordered, looking Seokjin straight into the eyes with an adorably determined expression. He couldn't help but humor you, and gave a nod to his colleague before letting you tow him out of the conference hall and into an elevator.

"What happened?" you asked softly, still holding his hand face-up, staring wide-eyed at the lacerations on his skin. What had happened? He had just been watching you, when that man had fucking set his hand on your lower back, and –

"Professor!"

He realized that his hand had tried to clench into a fist and he forced himself to relax.

"I'm not sure," he replied, saved from further questioning when the elevator dinged and the doors swished open.

"You should be more careful," you scolded cutely, pulling him down the hall and fumbling with the keycard for your - our, hissed Jin's brain - hotel room. You dragged him into the bathroom, seating him on the covered toilet as you opened drawers until you found what you were looking for. He watched in amused interest as you pulled a first-aid kit from under the sink, utterly endeared by how you were acting like you were in charge.

You frowned when you opened it, ordered him to stay put as you left the bathroom, then returned with some dainty tweezers.

"Are those for your eyebrows?" he asked in amusement, making you scowl at the clearly lacking first-aid kit.

"Yes," you responded primly before kneeling next to him and taking his bleeding hand in a tender grip that made his heart stutter. "Now be quiet and let me concentrate."

Why did you have to be so fucking cute when you tried to be bossy? You began plucking glass from his palm, attention completely absorbed by your task, and he took the opportunity to drink you in without interruption.

You really were too beautiful for your own good, Jin mused with a mixture of admiration and despair. His eyes trailed over the scrunch of your brow, the slopes of your cheeks, and your pursed lips in a soft caress his hands itched to make a reality. He was only torn away from his silent worship when you clucked your teeth and tugged him to the sink to rinse his hand.

"I think I got everything," you said in a fretful voice that made him want to kiss the worry off your face. "How does it feel?"

"Fine," Jin assured you. He felt better than fine, honestly. The pain in his hand was nothing compared to the euphoria of your skin on his own, or the way your attention was on him and him alone.

"Okay, good," you murmured with a smile, smearing his hand with something that made him hiss. Your expression dropped in an instant, though you wasted no time grabbing a roll of bandages. You wrapped the white cloth around his palm in gentle, almost reverent hands, and peeked up at his face when you were done.

"All set," you said quietly, looking at him tentatively, your hands still holding his in a soft, warm grip. Jin swallowed as he gazed back, completely captivated. You were perfect, a lovely blossom just waiting to be plucked by some uncaring hand. But he couldn't.

Shouldn't.

Then you smiled, and he decided that hell was worth it if it meant that look was reserved for him and him alone, if he could keep you from those who wouldn't treasure you the way you deserved. Especially undeserving predators like Namjoon Kim.

"Not quite," he heard himself say, almost as if he were underwater. You cocked your head at him, confused, and he grinned as the dark vines inside of him cut through the final strands of his self-control. "I hear kisses help speed up the healing process."

~~~~~

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[spideystevie]

hi sweet allie!! may I request 💘 with the prompt "fixing their tie" from "little romantic gestures?" ur an angel i love u happy valentines day <3 xo, @familyvideostevie

sweet sweet emma!! happy valentine’s to you, too! i love you <3 had one idea for this initially and then went a completely different way after consulting a friend. anyway, very excited about this one even though it became more of a tying the tie instead of fixing it but alas same concept! hope you enjoy - [0.9k] | join the party!

There’s an agonizing bite of nerves under Bradley’s skin this morning as he gets ready. You’d been skirting around each other all morning, hurrying to get ready in a rush after waking up late.

Your baby sister graduates college today, a huge feat that she’d told you felt almost impossible. When it came time for invitations to the ceremony, Rooster was one of the first people on her list. He nearly cried when you’d told him, something he made you promise not to mention to anyone. 

After all these years it didn’t come as much of a shock to you. He’d basically become her older brother by association when he started dating you and she looked up to him almost as much as she did you. 

Even still, Bradley was nervous. He’d been to family dinners and that one New Year’s Eve party, a Thanksgiving once too, but those all felt like something on a completely different scale than this. It feels like something more intimate, reserved specifically for blood, being one of the few invited to watch your sister walk across a stage. 

He knows it’s silly, a little bit juvenile even, to feel like he’s going to somehow mess this up or be a disruption. He can’t count the amount of times your mom has told him he was a part of the family now. She still insists each time he’s around that he drops the formalities and just calls her mom. 

His tie not cooperating with his shaky hands isn’t helping his nervous antics either. 

“Need some help?” your voice is a calming siren breaking through his anxious reverie. You’re leaning against the doorframe, halfway in the bathroom with a sweet smile on your face.

He looks at you through the mirror, his hands stilling on the fabric material of his tie. A sheepish look crosses his face as he turns around to face you. You use it as an invitation to step forward and take the two ends of the tie into your hands. 

“Thought you’d be a pro at this by now,” you tease him, a gentle probe that’s softened by your smile when you look up at him through your lashes. A flustered shade of pink rises to his cheeks. He shakes his head as he watches your hands move.

“So did I,” he says and you laugh. A small pinch forms between your brow from concentrating, eyes focused on making sure you get the knot on his tie right. This close, you wonder if he can feel your heart accelerating in the slightest over an action so inherently intimate.

Silence settles over the bathroom save for the sound of your hands on the tie and the fabric brushing against itself as you start to tighten the knot up towards the collar of his shirt.

He takes the time to just look at you, memorizing the lines and slopes of your face. He thinks you’re radiant. 

“And…done,” you nestle the top of a knot in a spot you hope is comfortable for him. One of your hands smooths down the front of the tie, adjusting it just a bit to make sure it’s perfect. Your eyes drift back up to his face to find him already staring at you. 

“What would I do without you?” It feels like there should be a teasing bite to it, but he says it with such sincerity, it makes your head spin. Because yes, you did up his tie for him but you also managed to silence any wavering thought in his brain. There’s a warm adoration coating his features, an intensity that makes your chest feel funny in the best way. 

You stare at him for a beat, enough for your gaze and his to flicker towards each other's lips. A heat rushes to your face as he lowers his face down to yours. You use the hand still resting on his chest to grab at his tie and tug him down to meet you fully.

If your usual demeanor and bright smile weren’t enough to quell his nerves before, the way you’re kissing him definitely is. His hands fall against your waist, his lips soft against yours. You kiss him like you’re not running late for a graduation ceremony, like right now in this moment time’s paused and resting in the palm of your hand.

You pull away, both of you a little dazed but full of lovestruck smiles. You take a step back and towards the door to grab your shoes. He takes a second to breathe before following after you. The two of you pull on your shoes by the door and just as he’s about to open it to leave, you stop him. 

“Wait!” you rush out and he pauses, hand wrapped around the door handle ready to pull it open. You step forward into his bubble of space again, shifting his tie that you’d caused to go askew back into place. Your hand lingers against his chest for a moment, palm against the fabric of his shirt and tie. 

You step back again, your hand falling back to your side. “Okay. Now we can go.”

Bradley can’t resist, he pulls you in by the small of your back to kiss you once more. It’s over sooner than the last but it leaves you just as doe eyed and blinking. 

You make it inside and to your seats near your parents in the nick of time and all at once his nerves seem to return. It’s different though, they mix with a swell of pride in his chest, one that grows only stronger when your sister’s name is called. She spots him in the crowd with ease, cheering loud next to you and her face lights up. 

When he sits back down with you, he feels more at home than he has in years.

[poursomesunaonme]

beanie imyyyy❤️ so excited to for the promised event!!!! i would like to request kuroo and the song fade ! sfw or nsfw whatever feels right for the song! you know me better than i know myself so i can’t wait to read what you write hehehe 🦭

SOBBINF CRYUBH TY FOR REQUESTING ILY

cw: smoochin, suggested nsfw

"when you fall asleep next to me / it's nice to have you by my side / to keep my body company"

you add the rest of the ingredients to the pot, stirring to make they’re all assimilated when suddenly you hear a key turn in the door lock.  you throw the lid on the pot and scurry to meet your husband when he finally opens the door.

“hi there, beautiful.”  tetsuro smiles, dropping his bags to free his arms to hold you.  his face burrows into the crook of your neck, his breath fanning over your skin.  his fingers just slightly dig into your sides to pull you closer to him as your arms wrap around his neck.

“hey, love.”  you grin, pressing a kiss to his temple before he pulls back, not hiding the way his eyes slide and focus directly on your lips.  when he leans down, the first kiss is soft, sweet, and chaste.  you pull back, finding that he leans forward to continue.

“hold on, there,” you giggle.  “dinner’s still working.”

“but what if i wanted to skip to dessert?”  his eyes crinkle with a wide smile, pulling you closer so that your hips press together.  his fingers manage to snag a piece of your hair and twirl it around.

“i’d say you need a well-balanced diet.”  you pull away and walk towards the kitchen, much to his chagrin.

“not even one cheat day?”  you can hear the pout in his voice from behind you.  “c’mon… it’s been a week since i saw you.”

“all the more reason to wait a little while.”  the tongue in your cheek doesn’t win the battle with a smile, but he can’t see your face.

“now that doesn’t make a lick of sense.  but since you’re so adamant about it…”  his lips press a soft kiss behind your ear.  “i’ll just have to listen.”

you serve your bowls of tetsuro’s favorite dish and eat dinner without much incident.  he tells you about the work he did when he was away for a week, all the while devouring his serving in just a few minutes as if to show you how quickly he wants to get back to business at hand.  before you know it, the food is gone, dishes are clean, and he’s practically tearing your clothes off your body.

“just missed you so much,” he mumbles against your tongue and teeth before tracing a line down and back up the column of your throat to kiss you again.

“tet-tetsuro,” you pant as you nimbly undo the buttons of his shirt.  he goes away frequently, ripping the company of his body away.  even so, you never get used to it.  every day of missing him, every day of him not warming the bed, every day of sleeping alone—you poured them all into each kiss, each movement, each breath as you ravished each other.

maybe, you had thought at the beginning of your relationship, maybe we would be cursed to be the kind of people who’s affection eventually died down. 

yet years later, tangled in his limbs and his love, you know that this feeling was never going to fade.

submissions for the promised event are now closed but you can still click here to go to the nav page

© all work belongs to poursomesunaonme. do not copy and repost.

[welldonebeca]

It' s a Bad Idea, right? (13)

WC: 1k words Warnings: Mafia AU. Secret identity au. Fluff. Flirting. 

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Steffan was the one who picked Betty’s outfit to go to Coney Island, something she could be comfortable in – a nice pair of jeans, with walking shoes and a cute shirt, nothing too fancy. 

She had never been to Coney Island before and had never been particularly interested in amusement parks. However, when he suggested the trip, his eyes sparkled with excitement, and he looked genuinely thrilled about the prospect of being by her side for her first visit to Coney Island. 

In those two weeks together, she had learned a very important thing: very few things made Steffan’s eyes sparkle in excitement, and she wanted to see more of that. 

He knelt to the floor to tie up her shoes, very careful as she watched him silently. 

It made it impossible for her not to smile. He was so gentle. 

He was tying her shoes!

What other man in her life had tied her shoes before? None. 

Her dad had bought her Velcro shoes when she was little to prevent her from tripping, but he had never tied her shoes because she didn't have laced shoes until she was old enough to do it herself.

When he was done,  he took a moment to adjust her socks and looked up at her with a gentle smile on his lips.

"How's your mood now?" he asked in a soft voice.

Betty exhaled slowly. She couldn't completely hide that her day had started off poorly.

"Better," she replied.

He set his eyes on her face, resting his open hand on her knee with his palm up. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he offered. 

She did. But not with him, no. 

Betty knew very little about Hydra, but Steffan was absolutely in a higher position than the Malicks. Anything she said could have a negative impact on them, and she didn’t want anything to happen. 

“I went to church in the morning,” she exhaled. 

Steffan’s face softened. 

“Did Mrs Malick see you?”

A little smile tugged on her lips. 

“Yeah,” she nodded. “She always asks why I don’t go much, but it’s enough to stop her from asking questions.”

She placed her hand on his, and he gently caressed the skin of her palm.

"Hiding who you truly are is the most exhausting thing someone can do," he said, looking into her eyes. "I...”

He paused, watching her face carefully. 

"I can't begin to imagine how that affects you," he continued in a soft tone, "but I'm really sorry you have to do that to stay safe."

Betty observed him, uncertain. There was something in his expression, something she couldn't quite grasp. But it felt like he genuinely understood, and that meant more to her than words.

She puled his hand up and kissed it, and Steffan smiled, pulling her to stand with him. 

“Ready?” he asked gently. 

Betty exhaled. Coney Island, there she went. 

He raised his hand to her cheek and pressed a kiss to her lips, pulling back and looking into her eyes. 

"It's going to be fun," he assured her, his thumb gently caressing her skin. "If it's not, well... you get to choose your prize."

And that was how she ended up in his car, with his right hand holding hers as he drove off and Taylor Swift played in the radio, and the thirty minutes were quite peaceful, honestly. It was a bit weird, going places by car. She was so used to just taking the subway, this was strangely comfortable. 

Oh, if he broke up with her, it would suck to go back to not being able to drive around. 

“Did I ever tell you about the first time I’ve been to Coney Island?” he asked. 

“No,” Betty shook her head. 

He thought silently for a moment. 

“I visited the US as a boy when my father got a job opportunity but it wasn’t that good, we were living a little tight,” he told her, facing the road. “And I had this friend, this… boy, he was my age. James. He was very patient, he taught me a great deal of English.” 

Betty watched him quietly, listening quietly. He looked a bit nostalgic as he spoke. It sounded like something very important. 

“We scrapped all the money we had, together. Anything we could get delivering newspapers… it was the 90s, parents weren’t worried about us getting kidnapped yet,” he chuckled.

Betty couldn't help but laugh along with him.

“So, we saved all the money we could get for two weeks, and we went to Coney Island,” he told her. “It was my first time there. I don’t think I’d ever had so much fun in my life.”

Betty smiled warmly. 

“It sounds very nice,” she told him. “Are you still friends?”

Steffan hummed, reflecting on the past. 

“We still talk,” he told her. “But I moved back after a while.”

Betty nodded in understanding. 

"I'm hoping I can make your day just as fun," he said, squeezing her hand. "Do you trust me?"

She smiled and leaned back in her seat, her eyes fixed on him. 

"I do," she replied. "My fun is in your hands."

He parked the car and unbuckled his seatbelt before giving her a serious, yet playful look.

"I'll open the door for you," he teased with a grin. "You have to start letting me."

Betty chuckled. Yes, he had this charming habit, and yes, she was still getting used to it. She remained in the car, unfastening her seatbelt, and observed as he walked around to her side and opened the door.

"Thank you," she giggled when he held the door open, and she stepped out.

After closing the door and locking the car, Steffan paused for a moment. He took her hand, gently squeezed it, and pulled her a little closer. Their lips met in a sweet, gentle kiss, and he smiled warmly at her.

"Ready?" he asked.

She sighed contently. 

"Ready," she replied with a loving peck on his chin and then his lips. "Let's go."

…

“it’s a Bad Idea, right?” was posted on my Patreon in September 2023. To have early access to it (and lots of other stories), consider subscribe to my page! It’s just $2 a month, and I know you won’t regret it!

…

Bad Idea: @peaceloveancolor

[capsensislagamoprh]

CHA 5

Christophe knew a lot of people. He knew fashion designers trying to make it, models desperate for a gig, crew looking for anyone to sign off on production work just for the college credit, and he knew how to get them together at a moment's notice. What he couldn’t do was recreate the missing designs. Victor had been absolutely distraught to realize that some of his pieces were positively wrecked by the move, while other less spectacular pieces made it through just fine. In the end, he was left with a set of angora sweaters, slimline slack jeans - or sheans, as he liked to call them - that combined the elegance of high end office wear with the durability of street fabrics, and a single pair of sheer socks he’d made from scraps of a disastrous attempt to make panty hose more fun and less annoying.

It was a frantic week of pulling fabrics, bolt by bolt, from boxes, tubes, and any piece of clothing that had been destroyed, trying to make something new, exciting, something that would not only delight the senses, but bring some whimsy into an otherwise very monotone world. Why everyone thought beige was the be-all, end-all of the last two seasons, he wasn’t sure, but come hell or high water, he’d see this change. “Don’t get me wrong,” he babbled to the man behind the counter, “it’s a fine color. It has its place. But so much? All the time. Non. It’s - how you say?” Victor waved a hand in front of his face, letting his jaw go slack, eyes blank. “Steklyannyy pritsel?”

“Terne?” came a voice rich as clotted cream. “Means dull, boring.”

Victor turned, eyes bright. “Yes! This is the word!” It was the man in the jeans. The delicate blond boy was standing with his hands behind his back by a selection of buttons, looking exceptionally bored. He must have noticed Victor’s flicker of recognition. His eyes were beautiful. Long lashed, blue, wide and earnest. Not just any blue. Cobalt. They caught the light in just such a way… “Hello,” Victor said with his friendliest smile.

“Hello. Sorry, I didn't mean to step in. You just seemed to be a little lost with the language.”

“Oh, yes. It mixes with the others sometimes. Ty govorish' po-russki?”

The man winced. “Not that well, if I’m being honest. Knew someone who spoke it pretty well. Taught me a few phrases, some things here and there.”

“But that’s marvelous! Learning something new is never out of style,” Victor purred. The boy by the buttons huffed, turning his head away. “Your … son?”

“Ah. Yes. He’s supposed to be choosing the buttons to fix his shirt with,” Mr. Cobalt Eyes said with a slight frown. The boy turned slowly towards the display again, grabbing four sets of ladybug shaped novelty buttons, handing them to … Victor really needed to find out who this handsome man was.

“Victor, by the way. Nikiforov.” He made a move to lean on the pile of fabrics being measured and weighed, casual interest in his gaze.

“Trent. Trent Dale.” He put a firm hand on the boy’s shoulder. “This is Yuri.” The boy stared at Victor, eyes as viridian as the sea. Vivid colors ran in the family, it seemed.

“Nice to meet you, Yuri.” The boy said nothing, clutching the buttons tightly. “He must have his mother’s hair,” Victor added, trying to prolong the conversation. Trent was tall, and handsome in a corporate way. Victor could almost see him dressed in suits, polished shoes gleaming as he stepped from his bedroom, freshly showered, smelling like the promise of sex and money. Yuri frowned, shuffling uncomfortably. Victor realized he had missed something Trent was saying.

“ - it’s okay, though. We get by. Don’t we Yuri?” He shook the boy’s shoulder, jostling a mumbled nonsense out of him.

“Oh, well, I suppose that’s all we can do,” Victor covered smoothly. “Try to get by. So, what happened to the buttons?”

“Oh, that. Small accident. Popped one. It got lost in the shuffle, I suppose. Rather than walk around with one missing, we decided to replace them all. Although, I don’t know about ladybugs. Little out of place, don’t you think?” Trent addressed the last half to Victor, half to Yuri. The boy stiffened, looking at the buttons as if trying to figure out if he wanted to fight about it or not. Victor took pity.

“I think it adds a bit of whimsy to the design. As long as the colors don't clash horribly, it just makes it fun.” Crouching to be more at the boy’s eye level, he shone a smile that bent his lips in at the bow. “What color is the shirt?”

Yuri glanced at Trent who nodded. “It’s black,” Yuri answers in a bite that seemed to cut off the rest of his sentence.

“Is it a dress shirt?” Yuri nodded. “A black dress shirt. Full sleeves? Bit of a wider collar?” The blond’s eyes widened. He shook his head. Another glance at Trent, then he turned back to Victor, swaying towards him just that little bit. “It’s got a mandarin collar, and it’s trimmed in red, Like the cuffs, and it’s long.”

“Is the black very shiny?”

Yuri wrinkled his nose. “No.”

Victor couldn’t tell if that little pout was because he wanted it to be shiny, or if the boy was offended by the very idea. His eyes burned as he looked at the fabrics, then lowered his head to look at the buttons he was clutching. “Well, in that case, ladybug buttons would be perfect. A little pop of color to accentuate what’s already there, and a little childhood wonder. Snakes and snails, yes? Why not some insects too? Particularly when they…” Victor’s mind went blank, searching for the word. “Slivat'sya? Sootvetstvovat'?” he muttered.

“Da. Oni podoydut i ne slishkom bol'shiye…” The words trailed off as Yuri stepped back, biting his lower lip. Victor beamed. “You speak po-russki very well,” he chimed, throwing a glance to Trent as the boy clammed up. “Well…” Standing, Victor looked over his shoulder at the clerk neatly packaging his trims and notions. “If you ever need button advice again…”

“Be hard to ask if I don’t have any way to contact you,” Trent smiled. Those teeth were so white, Victor could have gone blind.

“Oh! Yes.” Snatching one of the store's business cards, he pulled a fabric flower from the display vase, revealing it to be a pen in clever disguise. Jotting down a number with a small winky face holding fingers up in a peace sign, Victor handed it over. “I’ll be busy for a week or two, but I'm free after that.”

Trent looked at the card curiously. “Interesting.” Then those blue, blue eyes glanced at the many bags. “Making something big?”

“Massive,” Victor purred. Then he chuckled. “I’m making my spring collection. Again.”

“You’re a fashion designer?”

“I will be. I’m at PCA.”

Trent gave an impressed little nod, considering Victor. “A hard school to get into.”

“I did my best. I am going to take on the world, one fashion disaster at a time.” He spared Yuri a conspiratorial wink.

“I look forward to seeing it.” Trent’s easy smile almost had Victor walking out of the shop without his copious amount of goods.

____

CHA 6

Victor spent the next three days bent over the kitchen table, back aching, hands smudged, eyes strained as he littered the floor with rejected designs and sketches. He had his originals, but they were old, and while there was something he could draw from them, there was no joy in the way they lingered on old problems, previous mistakes. Instead he pulled the idea of it from the place it originally came. The jumpsuit - that recalled a particular night at a club that ran well into the next morning, having to face down an unforgiving instructor and her brutal, soul crushing constructive criticisms - needed a refit. A modern twist that fit more than the desperate need to not look like he’d been wearing the drink stained clothes from the night before under it. It was giving him problems. Jumpsuits were pretty much fashionable or made you look like a dock worker. It was hair pulling maddening.

“Min vän,” Christophe cooed, sliding a cup of warm tea under Victor’s nose. “This is not good for you. You need to rest. Let your mind recover, gain inspiration.”

“I’ve tried, Chris! I tried,” Victor cried, using the cup to warm his hands. “I just…” His lips drew tight as he threw his feet on the seat of his chair, folding in on himself. Leaning against the wall, Victor closed his eyes. “It’s not working.”

“Okay.” Christophe drew a chair over, sitting close. “Tell me what you were thinking when you created it?”

“I didn’t want to throw up on my presentation, and I wanted to pass.”

Christophe scoffed. “Sure. We all want that. What was really going on?”

Victor searched his mind for a witty segway only to come up flat. Sighing, he set the cup down. “I just wanted to hide. I’d done something stupid,” Christophe’s mock shocked expression withstanding, it felt good to be able to speak about that very strange twenty four hours. “I’d been stressing about finals.”

“As you do.”

“As I do. I needed to get out, clear my head. I let myself get talked into going to the club.”

Christophe shrugged. “Nothing wrong with a little fun.”

“At nine p.m. On a Tuesday. During finals week. The night before my organic harvesting and natural fiber production's economic impact on the future of fashion presentation.”

Christophe winced. “You spent months agonizing over that! The late night calls, the desperate pleas for help researching.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Victor muttered.

“The way you sobbed into your sketches when you couldn’t find drafter blue pencils.”

“The color disappears once ink is overlaid! They’re worth their weight in rubles!”

“Your sudden desire to become an oil rigger to avoid the whole section on soil erosion, and sustainability.”

“It’s a touchy topic.”

“Your inability to admit you were addicted to lattés for a whole month.”

“I didn’t know four a day would make me gain six pounds, okay?!”

“Sure it wasn’t the stress eating?”

Victor shoved him with his foot. “As I was saying!” Christophe smiled into his cup, eyes sparkling. Victor huffed before leaning back against the wall with a little wiggle. “There was this guy, and he was just… so fine. Strong, and firm, and - “ Victor sucked in his bottom lip, biting down on it as he made a little grunting sound.

“Sure sounds like it,” Christophe grinned.

“I thought so… until I woke up to the sound of him talking to someone while I was in his bed.” Christophe winced. “Same old song and dance, da? One night stand, already committed, and torn between tearing through, setting everything aflame, and slinking away, tail between legs.”

“I take it you went with option two?”

“I went with option two.” His head hit the wall when he threw it back. Rubbing the spot, he crossed his legs, sitting up more in the chair. “My clothes were covered in spilled drink and… other things.” Christophe nodded sympathetically. “I needed something to cover it up. I found a jumpsuit in this awful tan color just hanging on the line outside, and took it. I spent the whole rush to campus trying to find things to style it, and just went with using it as part of the presentation. Added a whole bit about how sustainability was good, but it couldn’t be allowed to cover individuality, and sort of…” He made a motion indicating he’d unzipped it from neck to crotch.

“How did that work out for you?”

“I got a pass, so not too bad.”

“I’ll bet you did,” Christophe winked. “Well, as thrilling as that story is, what are you going to do about this?” He motioned to the design. “It’s not too complicated. Pants are a bit much. Maybe shorts?”

Victor sat up. “Shorts. Christophe! You’re a genius!”

“Naturally. Why?”

“Shorts! If I turn the pants into shorts with a roll cuff, side strap buckles to hold them up, they become adjustable, allowing for more range of use. Increase the drop of the collar, add a little extra here so it flaped to the side in open neck mandarin, a-la-militare, add whimsy with the buttons and piping at the edges… a wide belt with a buckle that has shine, little sparkle with the accessories… Look at this!”

Christophe peaked over Victor’s arm to see the sketch produced. “Loose top kitten heeled boots, scrunched socks with pops of color… you know min vän, you may make a fashion designer yet.”

cha 1&2, cha 3&4

[foxblood]

The Threads of Memory: III The Liar's Masquerade

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24/25

The sun slanted across the water and directly through the picture windows of Gale’s bedroom, causing the shot gold in his embroidered silk robe to shine in the mirror.  It was tighter around his waist than he remembered, so he shed it and the brown shirt beneath it and dug through the drawers of his wardrobe for the waist cinch his sister Dolores purchased as a joke for his birthday the past year.  He laced it up, then readjusted his shirt and checked the fit of the robe in the mirror once more.  Much better.

The orb strained against his ribs, an unpleasant reminder that made him catch his breath.

“Is this a good idea, Gale?” Tara asked, her tail tapping the wood of the wardrobe as she lorded over Gale’s head.

“Yes,” Gale insisted once he found his voice again, “I promised Velim the Liar’s Masquerade.  Orb be damned, I will be keeping that promise.”

“I worry you will overextend yourself,” Tara huffed, “I won’t be there for rescue should the worst come to pass.”

Gale affixed the gold cufflinks and pulled a heavy velvet cape off the hanger and swung it around his shoulders.  He clasped the gold chains in the front and turned himself around for Tara.  “What do you think?”

“Magnificent, but your spinning wheel mask won’t match.” Tara tucked her paws neatly beneath her.

Gale held up a finger and picked up a box on his desk, unwrapping the tissue paper within.  He held it out to Tara, who sniffed the leather mask and studied the gilded detailing, then pressed it to his face.  The ribbons hung loosely to either side, and Gale studied his masked face in the mirror.

“Fits perfectly,” he grinned.

“Are you going to shave?” Tara demanded, stretching.

“Hardly time for that now,” Gale said, tying the mask behind his head and adjusting his half-do to hide the knot.

Tara scoffed and jumped softly down from the wardrobe, sitting herself in the pool of sunlight coming through the windows.  

Gale flourished his cape in the mirror and his heart swelled in excitement.  “I have a good feeling about this, Tara.”

Velim tugged the crocodile skin gloves over their wrists and up their arm until the leather pulled tight to their fingertips.  They traced the pattern of scutes on the back of their hands, disguising the feel of their own scales beneath them.  The black-green leather was polished to a shine that almost matched their own scales.  They secured their green shirt over them with gold cufflinks and pulled on the split-sleeve doublet.  The black brocade shimmered as they tugged the fabric of their shirt so it could be seen through the slits that reached up to their shoulders.  Satisfied with the amount of green cotton showing through, they affixed the scalloped shoulder cape with a brooch in the shape of a dragon’s wing and tested the look of the ensemble with their skull mask in the mirror.

Satisfied, they turned and let the shoulder cape flow like a dragon’s wing.  They admired the cut of their body in the mirror, the neat braids in their hair, and let the excitement flow into their step.  It felt something like a fairytale.

They stopped and studied themself in the mirror once more, pushing the Ring of Mortal Guise out of place so their eyes flashed bright in the reflection.  Acidic through the bone white mask, scales like pebbles ghosting over their face, their hair going deep black and glossy for just a moment before they pushed the ring back into place beneath the glove.

This wasn’t a good idea.  Even if the amount of magic in the room disguised their presence from watching eyes, even if truesight would assume their scales were a part of the costume, it still wasn’t wise.  The child inside them wailed in upset at the reminder, but they snapped back at it to shut up.

They locked the door behind them, tying on the skull mask as they walked the couple blocks to the agreed upon street corner.  A carriage was already waiting, the wooden cabin stained black as a puddle of oil in the sunset.  The door opened and Gale leaned out, nearly toppling over in his enthusiasm.  He caught himself on the handle beside the door, the velvet cape flowing around him.  

He caught Velim’s eye and flushed red.  “Velim, you look like the specter of death itself.”

“Thank you,” Velim climbed into the carriage and tucked his cape out of the way as they sat beside him, “that color brings out your eyes nicely.”

Gale’s heart stuttered.  “Well, thank you.”

Warmth crept up their neck, but they knew the limited magic of the ring wouldn’t translate it.  “A masquerade is not my usual social affair, can I trust you to guide me through the intricacies?”

“Gladly,” Gale chuckled, “I feel as a prince, with dragon for retainer.  You need only stand at my side.  Are you quite fond of them?  Of dragons, I mean?”

“I am,” Velim watched the people on the street pass by in paper mask and costume from one festival block to another, “I find them fascinating, the variety of forms they take and their abundant skill as both magic users and creatures of inborn magic.  Perhaps I’m just attracted to their fierce demeanor.”

“No one trifling dares confront one, to be sure,” Gale agreed, “perhaps you relate to them?”

Velim’s stomach flipped in fear, and they questioned the wisdom of their costume.  No one trifling, indeed.  “Perhaps in an aspirational sense.”

The carriage climbed the incline, the sound of the ground beneath the wheels changing from cobblestone to smooth black brick as they traversed the bridge that crossed one of the many rivers branching through the city and into the sea beyond.  The lamps shone in purple and orange, glittering with the strange light of arcane fire.  The horses panted as the carriage turned to a stop in the long round driveway in front of Blackstaff Tower’s main floor.  Velim opened the carriage door and stepped down onto the brick, extending their hand to Gale as soon as they had their footing.

Gale’s hand held theirs with a sort of tentative honor and he dropped from the carriage in a flourish of burgundy fabric, keeping his hand in theirs longer than he needed to before pulling away and offering his arm.  Velim slipped their arm into his and felt the flush on their neck reach their ears, grateful he couldn’t see through the illusion.

A translucent specter drifted toward them, holding a ghostly lantern.  The cool wisps curled around Gale and Velim, a long finger pointing them towards the gardens and into the ballroom at Blackstaff Hall.  They fell in line with a crowd of people dressed in fine brocades and lace, the long trains of lady’s dresses floated off the ground behind them and made them seem to float like ghosts.  Eyes behind masks passed over them, and one of the specters passed both Velim and Gale a goblet of wine.  Gale held his glass out, and Velim clinked their’s against it.

The high vaulted ceilings of the ballroom shone with shifting frescoes of the gods, each wearing a mask befitting their domain and lit with an internal luminance so that each perfected figure glowed with a light from within.  At the center, Mystra held court with a distaff in one hand and a drop spindle in the other, twirling a silvery strand of weave on and on and on.  Something about her dispassionate gaze through her mask caused Velim to shrink.

A tug on their arm brought them back to the moment, removing their eyes from the ceiling and coming to rest on Gale’s profile in the mask.  They stood taller as he led them through the crowd.

“I’d like to introduce you to some of my colleagues,” Gale suggested, “I do hope Martha is in attendance, she’s a magical disease specialist and I think she’d be delighted to meet you.”

Velim scanned the crowd, people gathered in each corner or spinning with partners on the wide dance floor.  Their stomach turned, feeling eyes on the back of their neck.  “It would be my pleasure.”

Gale’s face lit up as his eyes alighted on a tall gray hat rising above the banquet tables.  He took Velim’s hand and pulled them towards the cloth spire.  “Come, there’s someone I must introduce you to.”

Gale cut through the crowd with Velim’s hand in his until the banquet table opened up before them and the man in gray robes to match his gray hat from which fog cascaded to cover his face looked up and opened his arms, gesturing widely with his smoking pipe in one hand.

“Gale, my boy!” his gruff voice puffed out, but he remained faceless behind the falling fog that vanished before it reached the end of his gray beard.

Gale embraced the older man.  “Elminster, I thought you were bound for Menzoberranzan until next spring, what brings you back to Blackstaff?”

 “And miss the mischief of Liar’s Night in the city?  Perish the thought,” he held Gale at arm’s length, “you’ve donned a new mask, I see.  How have you fared?”

“I thought it time for a change,” Gale ignored his second question, “Elminster, allow me to introduce you to my date,” he placed his hand on Velim’s lower back and ushered them forward.

Velim resisted the urge to lean into Gale’s touch and shook Elminster’s hand firmly.  “Velim, a pleasure to meet you, Elminster.  Your ecologies have saved me more than once in the field.”

“Who among us does not owe our survival to one volume or another,” Elminster waxed, “I should thank you for bringing Gale back into public life.  You know he has never taken a date to the Masquerade before?”

“He said something like that,” Velim shot Gale a crooked grin, noting the blush creeping over his collar with satisfaction.  Elminster didn’t radiate as much magic as Gale did, they noticed, despite his reputation as Mystra’s chosen.  Perhaps an aspect of control.

“What is it that you do that my ecologies serve you so well?” Elminster asked.  His pipe disappeared beneath the curtain of fog and a series of four smoke rings pushed back out.  He swayed, already a few drinks down.

“A plague doctor with the health corps,” Velim explained, “trained as a surgeon, but much of my job consists of contact tracing in far-flung backwaters.”

“Fascinating!  No easy task, chasing down the plagues that terrorize gentle folk,” Elminster exclaimed, “I’m not surprised Gale sought you, such a thing requires a formidable mind.”

Velim grinned, but their smile faltered when they noticed Gale rubbing his chest as though it pained him.  “I won’t deny it.”

“Elminster, could I bother you to take Velim off my hands for a moment?” Gale asked, “I need only slip out for a short time.”

“Gladly!” Elminster offered his arm to Velim, “come, I’ve much to ask you, wyrmling.”

The nickname sent a cold spike of fear into Velim’s back, but they kept their face calm and easy as they slipped their hand through the crook of his elbow and let him lead them to a sofa upholstered in violet suede.  He snatched a glass of wine from a tray that floated about unattended, and the glass disappeared beneath his mask of fog before reappearing empty.  He set the empty vessel on the side table.

Velim lifted their full glass to their lips without drinking.  “Forgive me if I’m a bit starstruck,” they feigned embarrassment, “this event is more lavish than what I’m used to, and I certainly didn’t expect to encounter a Weavemaster of such caliber.”

“And what were your expectations, wyrmling?” Elminster asked.

“Researchers and teachers, other scholarly minds, but none so lofty,” they inclined their head to Elminster, “I’ve known Gale only a month.”

Elminster leaned back, directing the smoke of his pipe up and away from them in the shape of wispy ducks fluttering towards the high ceiling.  “My, my, don’t you work quickly!  To think, a year of absence from us, and all it takes is a month of you to bring Gale back into the fold.  I thought that condition of his would turn him recluse.  Pray, how did you come together?”

“You will laugh,” Velim warned.

Elminster leaned forward.  “Oh, please tell.”

“His mother signed him up for a matchmaker.” Their lips twitched in a smile.

Elminster let out a sharp laugh.  “And he allowed her?” then he looked at Velim, “and you?”

“Doing research for a book,” they waved him away, “I had no experience with matchmaking, and thought going through the motions might inject some realism into the project.”

“And haven’t you found yourself in a sprawling narrative,” Elminster prodded, “oh, Mystra, the man is more than you believe.”

Velim plucked another goblet of wine off a tray as it floated by and handed the new glass to Elminster.  “Is that so?”

“Indulge me in some fatherly concern, would you, wyrmling?” Elminster’s head tipped to one side.

“Please.” Velim waved him on.

“What are your intentions with Gale?” he held his glass up to stop them from answering, “I only wish to avoid him more heartbreak than he has already suffered.”

Velim thanked the ring for hiding the blush creeping up to their ears.  “Perfectly platonic,” they assured him, “I only seek a like mind and some company.”

Elminster’s head remained cocked to the side, the cascading fog leaving his expression a mystery.  Velim forced the unsettled twitch in their fingers into mock-drinking again.  Elminster finally lifted his glass beneath the veil of fog.

“Good!  Good.  After all that’s transpired, a friend will do him well,” he rested his hand on Velim’s arm, stronger than Velim had expected, “I believe you, wyrmling.”

“I know very little of what transpired,” Velim admitted, resisting the urge to pull their arm away.

The brim of Elminster’s hat dipped conspiratorially.  “The folly of a man in love,” he leaned back, “Mystra, forgive him.  I am so relieved to see him return,” he clasped Velim’s hand in his, “thank you, Velim.  Truly, I haven’t seen him in a year.”

“My intervention is only a happy accident,” Velim smiled at him, “may I ask you something?”

“Of course.” Elminster leaned in for the conspiratorial question.

“Do you know what his condition entails?  My curiosity is both professional and personal concern for a friend,” Velim explained.

Elminster sat back, suddenly serious.  “My dear, I’m afraid his condition is not mine to speak of.  It lies between himself and Mystra alone,” his joviality returned, “may I ask you a question?”

Velim’s mind gnawed on the rebuttal.  “That seems only fair.”

Gale clutched at his chest as the orb surged against the cage of his ribs.  A faint violet glow bled through the fabric of his shirt.  “Why?  Why now?” he choked down at his heart, “Why must you act up now?”

He groaned at the pain that drove all of his awareness down into the depths of his body, leaving his legs and arms numb.  His heart spasmed against the pressure.  He sucked a cooling breath between his teeth, forcing the balloons of his lungs to inflate until they suffocated his racing heartbeat and held it until the spasm of the orb died down.  His vision blurred with the violent pulsing of magic up his neck and into his face.  Slowly, his body resolved again.  The feeling worked back into his trembling fingers and the orb compressed down to a knot of pain nestled against his heart.

Gale breathed long and slow, wiping the sweat from his clammy forehead.  He pushed out onto a balcony overlooking the glittering lights of Waterdeep and let the cool air wash over him, easing the hot prickling ache that assaulted his skin in the aftermath.  The open windows of the ballroom exuded conversation and jaunty music, sending it over the sides of Blackstaff tower and onto the city below where paper lanterns danced with light in the market streets.  The trembling in his hands slowed, though it continued deep in his stomach, and he returned to the din of the ballroom to rescue Velim from Elminster’s probing questions.

He found them on a sofa surrounded by a throng of people, Elminster officiating the conversation as people peppered them with questions about their occupation.  A dwarven man Gale dimly recognized as an expert in healing invocation was pressing them for the specifics of removal for invocation hyperplasia and what they, as a surgeon, might do to prevent recurrence.  Velim sat with their back straight and their drink still full, and in their considerate silence all waited.

“The best way I’ve found to prevent recurrence involves both an intimate knowledge of the arterial anatomy of the afflicted area and a strong grasp on necromantic magical principles.  I rarely come across both in the same person, but a few years ago during an outbreak of Proudrest’s disease in a duergar settlement north of Cairnheim I had the pleasure of working with a drow necromancer who was passing through on a particularly nasty case of IHP,” they swirled their wine in the glass, making sure everyone was still paying attention, “an inexperienced druid saved this patient’s life ten years ago.  Gutshot by an arrow tainted with the venom of a bloodbloater that was liquefying his insides.  The druid somehow rerouted his intestines, but the invocation magic left behind prompted them to grow uncontrollably.  By the time I arrived, it took him a month to digest a single meal and he couldn’t move for the sheer amount of flesh contained within his midsection.”

Gale joined the crowd, noticing that some of his colleagues had gone a little green.  Velim shot him a smile.

Velim continued, “So the drow and I, a bit sick of feeding porridge to Proudrest victims, decided we’d take a shot at solving his problem.  We got him sedated and open and spent the next two hours mapping out the extra lengths of small intestine -- his duodenum measured about ten feet long.  In order to go about removing so much of his bowel, we sectioned each piece off in two foot lengths.  She would kill the vasculature in the area to halt the action of the residual invocation, and I would remove the newly dead section of bowel.  Some fifteen hours later, we had a mountain of dead bowel and a duergar with a normal digestive system.”

“And the duergar survived?” the dwarven expert pressed.

“Ate his first meal and passed it within six days of the operation.”  Velim nodded as though that was that.

The dwarven expert’s eyes went wide.  “You wouldn’t happen to have this drow’s name?”

They shook their head.  “No name, she was quite insistent.  She told me she didn’t care to share such things with someone who may be raw material tomorrow.”

He seemed crestfallen, but the others around him murmured in sick wonder at the feat.  The band slowed one song, ramping up for the next, and Gale saw his opportunity to steal them back.

He cleared his throat, and Velim looked at him with some soft relief.  “Velim, I would hate to whisk you away so abruptly, but perhaps I could steal that dance now?”

Velim set their glass down on the table and swept between his colleagues, nodding at the dwarven expert and Elminster as they took Gale’s arm.  “I would like that very much.”

The crowd remained pressed around Elminster as the pair extracted themselves.  Velim could see the lines of pain around Gale’s eyes plainly through his mask.

“Are you feeling alright?” they asked.

“I am now.  Shall we?” Gale offered his hand as he stepped onto the parquet dance floor.

Velim hesitated before taking his hand, their eyes darkening with concern.

Gale closed his fingers around their hand.  “Just let me lead.”

The violin struck up first and Gale guided Velim’s other hand to his shoulder.  His fingers trailed over the back of their arm before resting at their waist.  Veilm’s heart rocketed into their throat and they swallowed it down by looking at their feet as they began to move.

“Your feet aren’t going anywhere,” Gale said, drawing Velim’s eyes back to his face.  A little jolt of disappointment crossed his mind, their face as unflappable as it always was.  How was it that they could make him fumble and blush with a single look, but he couldn’t unsteady them at all?

Velim ignored the tension in their core and forced their body to yield to Gale’s lead as he spun them around on the floor.  The music picked up, the rest of the string section taking hold of the melody the violin began with a rapid rising and falling rhythm.  Velim’s heart stuttered in their chest as they realized they were moving without thought, leaning into Gale’s hands and the heat of his body.  Magic flooded off of him, the weave leaving Velim buzzing down to their fingertips.

The piece slowed into something more gentle, dancers pulling one another close on the floor.  Velim found themself gazing into Gale’s soft brown eyes and a spark of fear shattered their enchantment.  They pulled away, instead of pressing closer as the other dancers were to their partners.

The orb stuttered in Gale’s chest and he winced.  Velim’s hand slipped out of his, and he looked around at the rest of the dancefloor.  He followed Velim off the parquet and into a corner of the room.  Gale drew the gazes of his colleagues in their own conversations.

“Would you like to show me around?” Velim suggested, tugging at the collar of their doublet, “I could use some air.”

“Yes, I would.” The tension at Gale’s temples relaxed and he pulled Velim’s arm closer to his body.  

His steps sped up, leading them out of the ballroom and into emptier and emptier parts of the tower.  The sconces on the wall lit automatically as they passed, flickering oddly off the wallpaper.  Velim looked over their shoulder at the dark hallway behind them, the chatter of the ballroom gone around four corners and a staircase.  When they tracked their path back, they couldn’t remember if the third turn was a left or right because they had been too busy looking at the embroidery on Gale’s robes.  Velim resisted the urge to pull away as Gale led them onto a balcony sitting area spotted with other pairs sheltering from the busy ballroom.  The wind sped across the city and gusted into Velim’s face.  They swayed with the dark sickness of vertigo as they glanced into the black horizon. 

“Where are we going?” Velim hoped their voice wasn’t too tight.

Gale’s warm smile and the gentle press of his hand against their’s soothed their heart.  “The rare books library.”

Something in the bowels of Blackstaff Tower.  Velim counted the turns back to the ballroom, and still couldn’t remember the third turn.  They counted their breathing.  5 seconds in.  5 seconds out.  Gale stopped in front of a blank wall and turned around to face them.  Their heart blocked their throat, but he held out both of his hands palms up.  When they took them, he stepped backward through the solid wall.  Velim stumbled into a low-ceilinged room lined with stacks of books locked behind filigree brass grates.  Gale released their hands to gesture at the room around them.

Velim sucked in a breath of dry, cool air.  They turned around, the shelves lit with a dim sunset-toned light that glanced off the brass and dark wood and Gale’s hair and skin to turn everything gold.

“For preservation,” Gale explained, his voice low with near-religious reverence, “but to a remarkable effect, you’d agree.”

Velim peered between the brass bars at the books on the shelves inside.  Everything from leather bound and gilded volumes to crude leather wraps around stacks of parchment and paper.  Some had characters on their spines that Velim didn’t recognize.

“The grimoires of every headmaster of Blackstaff and many of their most famous alumni rest here,” Gale pointed at a deep brown leather book, the spine worn frayed at either edge, “that one belongs to the original founder of Blackstaff Academy, Khelben Arunsun.”

Seeing true lust in Gale’s eyes over the ratty book relaxed Velim some.  Safer, once they were certain the gentle possession in his voice was directed at an inanimate object and the information contained within instead of them.

“Do you intend to donate your own, one day?” Velim wondered.

Gale pulled away from the grate.  “You flatter me.  I don’t believe I’d make the cut.”

“Somehow, I do.” Velim turned as Gale’s knees buckled.  

Gale caught himself on a shelf, but doubled over in pain.  Velim took his weight against their shoulder and eased him onto the floor.  They rested the flat of their hand between his shoulderblades and counted his shaking breaths.  Magic rushed off him in pulsing waves and wrapped electric tendrils around Velim’s hand.  Gale clutched his chest, his face twisting with each pulse.

Velim eased him up and peeled his hand away from his chest, placing their hand over his heart and the source of the roiling magic.  It clawed at their skin through the leather as they concentrated on summoning up enough of their own magic like the first part of a shocking grasp spell.  The transference ran against their glove like an armored shield.  They pulled it off with their teeth and pushed their bare hand beneath his shirt so whatever was lodged within his chest could lap at the crackling magic they funneled into it.  They pulled their hand away as soon as the waves of magic eased and Gale sucked in deep, quick breaths.

“Thank you,” he finally said.

Velim looked into his pallid face, sweat glistening on his forehead in the low light.  “I think I’d better get you home.”

Gale glanced at their bare hand like he wanted to hold it again, and they put their glove back on.  “Yes,” Gale sighed, his eyes trailing to the mosaic tile floor, “that would be for the best.”

Velim hovered at his side as they made the journey back to the driveway, and they waited in silence as the valet summoned their carriage.  Velim saw Gale into the cab before climbing in themself, and resisted the urge to ask him additional questions.  They lasted nearly to the Trade Ward.

“Your condition, it’s magical in nature?” Though Velim phrased it like a question, it was a statement of fact and they both knew it.

“Yes,” Gale swallowed, “a folly of mine.  Please, let it be only mine.”

“Do you live alone?” they asked, unable to suppress the doctor’s instinct to meddle.

Gale shook his head.  “No, I live with a dear friend.  Tara, is her name.”

“A roommate?” Velim watched out the carriage windows.

“Of a sort.  Tara is a tressym.  She takes good care of me,” Gale assured them.  His voice was hoarse from strain, the small amount of magic Velim had funneled into the orb quickly devoured.  His chest began to ache again, “I’m sorry to cut our evening short for a second time.”

Velim scoffed.  “Nonsense.  I had a great time.”

“You are too gracious.” He smiled at them as the carriage jerked to a stop.

Velim hopped out and offered Gale their hand.  He took it as he stepped down, still unsteady on his feet, and Velim followed him up the spiral staircase to the stoop of his tower.  He waved his hand over the knob, unlocking the door with a small pulse of magic.

“Thank you again, Velim.  I also had a wonderful time.” Gale’s eyes flicked down to their hand.

Velim tucked their hands into their pockets.  “I’m glad it wasn’t a dud of an evening,” they smiled, “get some rest and call on me once you feel better.”

Gale lingered in the doorway.  “Good night, Velim.”

“Good night, Gale,” they echoed.

He closed the door slowly, stealing one final glance at them before it finally clicked closed and locked with a soft whoosh and glow from the locking runes.  Velim waited a heartbeat before descending the steps.  The carriage was already gone, the clicking of hooves drowned by the chatter of patrons spending their nights at taverns and inns across the city in costume.  Velim turned down an alleyway and onto a market street, comfortable in their mask and glittering costume under the lantern light and among the revelers as they began their walk home.

As they passed off the market streets and into the darkened neighborhoods of the Trade Ward, their mind wandered.  A teenage girl squealed in delight from an alley, and Velim ignored her and the soft murmuring of young voices with her, mind consumed with the intricacies of Gale’s condition.  

A violent outflowing of magic, chest pain, and the consumption of magic as treatment for the injury.  It had some hallmarks of invocation hyperplasia, in that the source was some foreign fragment of weave within the body, but all other symptoms matched nothing Velim had seen or even heard of.  They entered their apartment, locked the deadbolts, and sat down at their writing desk to chew on the problem some more.

[hawkins-losers]

You’re my best view (part 2) | Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You fulfill your promise and take polaroids for your boyfriend

Word count: 1.6k

Warning: nudity? 

A/N: This ended up being so much longer than planned and I’m not even sorry. It’s also the type of girlfriend I am, but that’s bc I’m an artsy bitch 

Part one

-

It’s been three weeks since you mentioned it and it’s been three weeks of Eddie asking you when you’d do that damn polaroid you promised him.

The day had finally come.

On Thursdays, Eddie's uncle had an earlier shift at the factory, meaning the trailer was empty at an earlier time. You took advantage of that knowledge and planned accordingly.

That meant convincing Eddie to move his Hellfire club meeting.

''Why did you ask me to cancel my 'Satanic worshiping' tonight?'' he asked as you got out of the van and headed inside the trailer, quoting a news magazine about Dungeon & Dragons.

''I did not ask you to cancel it, I asked you to move it to tomorrow. That's different,'' you corrected, sliding your backpack off your shoulder and down on the table.

‘’Same thing,’’ he waved off, closing the door behind you. ‘’So, are you finally going to tell me why? You were being very secretive and promised me I would not be regretting it. It better not be a catch to get me to help you study for Biology class or something because, unless it’s body anatomy, I’m not going to be a great help.’’

You chuckled at the ground. ‘’That’s not it.’’

‘’Thank you, Jesus.’’

‘’Check in my bag, I got a surprise for you.’’

Eddie cocked an eyebrow, curious.

A surprise could mean a lot of things. It could be a movie you rented and a bag of popcorn, sexy lingerie - although that would already be on you and not in the bag -, a tupperware of cookies you had baked, the latest record of one of his favorite bands, or, in tonight's case your polaroid camera.

You watched as he unzipped your backpack, trying to hold back a smile, impatient to see his reaction. His doe eyes rounded up like saucers at the sight of the polaroid camera, and his lips twisted into a Cheshire cat smile, immediately putting two and two together.

A film camera would’ve been more practical to use, but you didn’t trust anyone to develop them. It’s too easy to print one more and keep it in your pocket for personal use. The idea of a stranger having a sexy picture of you on their nightstand and wanking every night to it made you sick to your stomach and very uncomfortable.

Eddie flickered his eyes to you, seeing a bounce in his bones, unable to contain his excitement. ‘’Where is it? Is it in there?’’ He motioned to your backpack.

You shook your head. ‘’No. I need someone to take them for me.’’

‘’Them? As in…more than one?’’

You nodded slowly. There were five polaroids left to take in this camera.

You took a few steps toward the tall young man, tying your arms behind his neck as you made eye contact with him. ‘’Eddie Munson, will you do me the honor of being my personal photographer tonight?’’

As if possible, his smile widened even more. He grabbed your face and kissed you. ‘’Fuck yes.’’

Although the creative concept was quite simple, the ‘make it happen’ part was not.

While Eddie tidied the bed and cleaned a little - an empty bag of chips and a condom wrapper were not good background decor accessories -, you stood before his closet and picked out the shirt you’ll be wearing for the pictures. It was messy and some shirts were very creased from having fallen off their hanger and down the bottom. You were tempted by this Black Sabbath one, but, out of the corner of your eye, you recognized the shirt he gave you the first night you slept over.

It was the one.

‘’Found something to your liking, sweetheart? There’s some a few the dryer too.’’

You said nothing.

In silence, you removed your sweater and jeans and slipped the black and white raglan shirt over your head. It reached about your mid thigh and it smelled woody and spicy, topped with a tinge of weed.

‘’How do I look?’’

Eddie turned around, his jaw almost dropping at the sight. He looked at you with admiration in his eyes and swiped his tongue over his plump lips, feeling his body react instantly. ‘’Are you trying to kill me? You know I can’t control myself when you wear that? It’s my weakness. I swear you woke up today and thought ‘ah today is a beautiful day to kill my boyfriend’.’’

You threw your head back laughing at his antics. His sarcasm and sense of humor were one of the things that seduced you first.

You sat on the bed and Eddie had to fight the envy to pull you on his lap and make out.

Instead he asked, ‘’What’s the plan? I’m no photographer, so you gotta guide me here.’’

‘’I’m gonna do pretty much all of the work. All you gotta do is check in the viewfinder, make sure I’m in frame, and push the button to take the picture.’’

He rolled his eyes. ‘’I know how to use a polaroid camera. I meant, how do I get the right shot? We only got five and I don’t want to mess up.’’

It was cute that he cared this much about the project. That he wanted all the pictures to look beautiful and sexy and not just…dirty - something to jerk off to. If he wanted pictures of that genre, he could just open one of his Playboy magazines under his bed.

The first picture was simple. Just you, sitting on the bed with Eddie's precious red electric guitar. Eddie's Hellfire club shirt was relaxed on your body and exposing most of your thighs as you sat cross-legged. Your hands and fingers were positioned as taught, making it seem like you were playing for real.

For the second one, you laid on your back against the pillows, still holding the guitar. The angle was changed, now exposing your underwear - and the hickey on your right inner thigh - to the camera while Eddie sat on the end of the bed, watching with hungry eyes. He felt his dick stiffening at the sight before him, causing his jeans to become tight and uncomfortable.

He reached for his belt to release some of the pressure down there, but you stopped him.

‘’Nuh-uh.’’ You shook your head. ‘’You take nothing off.’’

‘’Wha- That’s unfair! That was not part of the plan,’’ he began to protest. ‘’How can I sit there and watch you undress and do these sexy pictures if I don’t get to - at least - take my pants off? You know how you make my dick feel. One small peak of your tits and my pants are about to burst.’’

With a mischievous smile on your lips, you grabbed the bottom of your shirt and lifted it to flash him.

Eddie groaned painfully. ‘’You little devil.’’ The corner of his lips twitched and he grabbed your ankles. ‘’Get over here,’’ he said, pulling you down and closer to him, making you squeal and giggle.

Your shirt had ridden up due to the movement, exposing your under-boobs.

You didn’t bother fixing it.

Hesitantly, Eddie grabbed the camera. He searched your eyes for consent and pushed the button after getting a nod. This one was a little more on the dirty side, but a little glimpse was nothing too scandalous, right?

You heard the soft click and the polaroid was released. Eddie put it on the table to develop and sent the camera down again. He leaned over you, connecting your lips and slipping his tongue in. Your hands went to his hair, feeling his soft curls and pulling a little as the kiss deepened, while his snaked up your body and to your chest, the coldness of his silver rings making goosebumps raise on your skin. One of his thumbs brushed over the bud of your nipple, making you gasp softly into the kiss and arch your back.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling yourself closer and grinding down. His jeans were rough against your soft skin, but you did it again.

Eddie moaned at the feeling, breaking the kiss. ‘’If you do that again, we’ll never finish this shooting,'' he warned against your lips.

A part of you wanted to say 'fuck the shooting', your body craving his in all the possible ways, but another part wanted to continue playing model.

You captured his bottom lip between your teeth and pulled, teasing a little more before breaking away and taking the shirt off completely, leaving you topless.

Between your collarbones, there was a dainty silver chain with a small pendant of your lover's initial, matching Eddie's. Unlike your school's basketball players who lended their jersey or team jackets to their girlfriend to mark them as theirs, this jewelry represented that you were the only one who really knew the other.

He was about to kiss you again, thinking the shooting was over, but you grabbed the camera. ''Let's do the last two.''

‘’Are you sure?’’ Eddie asked with a puzzled look on his face, his eyes shifting from the camera to yours.

Although you had said no nudes - which Eddie was totally fine with and respected -, you wanted to take a topless picture. You felt confident enough and safe enough to take one. You trusted the hands in who it would be in.

‘’Yes.’’

Later into the night, after a shower and fixing something to eat, you took a look at the now developed pictures and smiled pleasantly at the result. They could’ve been better. The lighting was weird on two of them and you could see perfectly the handcuffs by Eddie’s bed - which you once used in bed -, but you made them together and that’s what made them special.

You took the one where you were clothed the most and handed it to Eddie, who was confused. ‘’That one you can keep in your van. You know, in case you need to show off your hot girlfriend.’’

He shook his head and grabbed the rest from your hands. ‘’Hell the fuck no. No one's going to see any of these. All mine.’’

-

Taglist:  @broadway-or-noway​ @violetsleftfist​ @thelaststraw3​  @cursedandromedablack​  @Slashersimpfor  @savagejane1​  @wh0reforbucknasty  @eddiemunson-slut  @slvdsjjk​  @hehehehannahthings  @dreamdancers-world  @grace-loux

Eddie Munson taglist: @nighttwingg @yourfavoriteakutagawakinnie​ @heizenka @eddiemvunsongf @Eddie_munsons_girlfriend

[luveline]

i freaking love how u write peter!! i was wondering if ur still taking requests if u could do a peter x reader fic that they’ve been together for awhile but never had sex bc the readers insecure (me projecting lol) and finally she’s ready he like worships her and like compliments her over and over and teases her and stuff ty i love ur writing!!!

this was so fun tysm for ur request <33333 and tysm <33 slight nsfw 18+ please (heavy petting <3)

"There's no right time," Peter had said to you once. "We'll go as slowly as you want."

Peter knows you well enough to realise when you're feeling insecure. Whether it be in your relationship, your appearance, anything, really. He always knows, and he handles everything with more love and care than you ever feel like you deserve. You're shy and you don't have a high self-esteem, but you love the way he looks at you and you trust him more than anything.

You know Peter well, too. You know exactly what the little crinkle between his eyebrows means, know that the look in his eyes as he hovers over you and is trying his very best to suppress is lust.

You've messed around before, never far, heavy kissing and over clothes touching. It's probably why Peter is so surprised when you put your hand over his where it presses into your waist and push them up together, under your shirt. 

He pauses where he's attached under your jaw. You pant, released from the trap that is his evil, biting kiss into one of your tried and true sweet spots. You push his hand up further as if to prove a point in his silence, nervous by his inaction. 

His hand flexes under yours. He murmurs your name against your throat in question. 

You don't know what to say so you don't speak, guiding his hand to just under your chest. You're not wearing a bra, the whole reason he's on top of you now - you know, 'cos he's a sucker for your tits. He's never tried touching and you weren't really ready to let him. 

Until now. 

"Touch me?" you ask. 

His hand flexes again. "Are you sure?"

"I'm ready," you say quietly. 

His hand inches up by itself until he stops cold and lifts himself up off of your chest to look at your face. He assessed your features. You give him a good smile; you're ready, for real, even if you're nervous. You're excited, you realise, and he sees it too. 

"You'll tell me if you want to stop?" he asks, face stony. 

"Yeah. I promise." 

He gives you his serious face for a few seconds more before he smiles so wide it looks painful and dips down to kiss you. 

His lips are warm as he mouths over yours, kiss wet and soft. You try not to be too obvious as his hand stretches over your breast but you are, a too-pleased moan slipping out into the space between you as he pulls back. 

His fingers brush over your nipple. You make another small sound that gets him smug and adoring at once. 

"You like that?" You nod quickly. "Yeah? You're so soft," he dives down to kiss below your ear. "You're perfect," he murmurs, hand massaging gently as his mouth moves down, and down, and down. "Pretty girl, perfect girl." His hand goes wide, smooths gentle over your sternum to fondle your other breast in his big, firm hands. 

He sucks unforgiving hickeys into the column of your throat and you're too distracted by his pinching fingers to worry about the bruises, squirming and gasping at his playful twisting. A familiar heat starts between your legs. You know you're in for a good, long night as Peter pulls back to watch your face as he bullies your sensitive chest. 

He, overcome by fondness or heat or something similar, pushes his forehead against yours and giggles boyishly. "You're so fucking cute. You should see how you look, baby. All wound up and excited." 

"Oh god," you say, worried about the monster you've created, months of sexual tension with no where to go. 

"Keep his name out your mouth, babe. This is between you and me," he jokes. You grab his face in your hands and beam. "Oh, you're lovely. I can't wait to see your face when you-" 

You tilt your lips up and kiss him before he can say it. 

[hanluex]

♡ MANNER LEGS, TEACHER VOICE, AND TIME-OUTS — JJ MAYBANK

jj x fem!reader | wc : 1.8k words | content : possible grammar and spelling mistakes, lowercase intended, established relationship au, fluffity fluffy fluff. jj pissing off reader and whatnot, jj is adorable i love him

“are you sure you want to do this? i didn’t tell them about you, so it’ll be fine if you can't.”

you assured your boyfriend, watching him tie his shoes before standing next to you.

“i’ve always wanted to see where you worked. you’ve been to the island club, and the wreck is basically a second home.” jj shrugged, shoving his hands in his pant pockets. “it’ll be fun, right?”

“it will be very fun! i can't wait for you to meet the kids!” you giggled to yourself, excited for your students to finally meet your boyfriend. “not that i’m bluffing, but it’ll be difficult to get them to like you at first.”

jj laughed, nodding as you struggled to contain your smile. “guess we’ll have to stop by the bakery and grab some donuts before we go then,” he suggested, watching you as you excitedly clapped, rushing to leave the house faster.

you worked at a small school that mainly handled playschool and elementary kids — and jj was finally going to get a taste of what you did for a living. trying to make use of his free day — other than partying and sleeping — he accompanied you to your workplace.

jj had his fair share of interactions with kids — he knew how to handle their tantrums and play with them. but teaching them was something he wasn’t familiar with, so it was a pleasant change to see what you spent your weekdays doing to make a living.

“let’s go! let’s go! let’s go!” you cheered, overflowing with excitement as your favorite small hoomans were going to meet your favorite tall one. “you are going to love the kids, i promise!”

“the real question is whether they’ll love me.”

“everyone. get your aprons and line up! let’s do some painting!”

you announced, going over to the shelf, grabbing the box full of aprons, and placing them on the floor so the children could easily get them.

“yay, painting!” they responded in sync, forming a line while a student handed each of them an apron for their art class.

jj leant against the table as you put on your apron, sitting on the little chair as you waited for them to come to you.

“you’ve taught these kids well,” he commented out of the blue, taking you by surprise. “they are childish, but at the same time, they have certain mature aspects. it’s really admirable.” he watched the smile on your face widen as you looked at the kids before turning to him.

“trust me, it’s all them.” you shook your head, letting him know you had nothing to do with their behaviour. “they play, they fall and they learn. i only teach them basic math and do fun activities with them.”

“are all teachers here as humble as you?”

you chuckled, smiling widely as your first student rushed towards you, her apron in her hands. “lila! i love your pigtails, they are so cute!” you complimented as you tied the apron for her.

jj watched you interact with each student one after the other, fondly smiling at every comment you gave them. as he listened and observed more, he figured the children were more excited about receiving a compliment from you rather than the art class they had.

“nick! you are looking twice as handsome as yesterday!”

“wow, your hair clips are so pretty, jess!”

“mason! mickey! i love your matching shirts!”

after finishing the apron-tying line, you gestured to jj to get his apron, wanting him to join in on the art class with the youngsters as well. your boyfriend complied, grabbing his apron — but instead of wearing it, he stood in front of you, holding it out.

you furrowed your brows, looking confused. “what?” you took the apron out of his hands, hiding your laugh when you saw him raise his hands — just like the kids when they got their aprons tied. “oh, i see. we have a new student, it seems.”

not thinking much about it, you took the apron, wanting to place it over his head. however, the height difference between the two of you became a slight obstacle. you cleared your throat, wordlessly point out the issue to your boyfriend who eagerly waited for his apron to be tied.

“jay, if you could …”

“oh, right, my bad!”

jj immediately grasped the situation, using ‘manner legs’ as he stretched his legs a little so you could easily place the apron over his head and tie the strings. you smiled at your boyfriend, turning away to join the children who were waiting with their mini canvases.

“you forgot something!” he pointed out, holding your hand as he turned you to face him. “you can't go until you say it.”

confusedly looking at your boyfriend, you wondered what you were missing. and the smug smile on jj easily gave you the answer. he wanted a compliment. “thank you for coming with me today. i love you,” you whispered, quickly placing a kiss on his lips before joining the kids.

“ah, y/n, you are gonna give me a heart attack at this rate.”

“finally! i finished it!”

jj exclaimed, stretching in his seat as he looked at the boat he had finished fixing. for the first time that day, jj walked into the house, trying to find you so he could boast about his accomplishment.

finding you sitting at the kitchen counter, he excitedly ran up to you, not seeing that you were busy with finalizing lesson plans for your classes.

“baby, baby! look!” jj showed his grease-covered hands, but you held his hand to the side, single-handedly typing out the email to your higher-ups. “i finished it! see!” he wanted to share the joy of fixing the boat he had struggled on for so long.

“give me a minute, love,” you stated, blindly reaching for your boyfriend’s shoulder, and patting him. “i’m a bit busy.”

the blond froze in his place, not used to the tone you used with him. you never speak to me with such a sickly sweet voice. “huh?” he confusedly played with his ear, patiently waiting until you were done.

after hitting send on the email, you turned to your boyfriend, ruffling his hair out of reflex. “good job! you did so well! i’m pro–” you paused, immediately touching your throat as you realised you used your ‘kindergarten teacher voice’ with him.

“did you just speak to me like you do with your students?”

“hm?” you hummed, turning your attention to your laptop as you feigned innocence. “n-no. why would i do that? you are not my student. that’s crazy,” you blabbered, internally screaming at the situation.

jj crossed his arms over his chest, raising his brows in question. “really?” he inquired, smugly smiling.

“really.” you nodded, facing your boyfriend. “what did you want to tell me?” you gave a tight-lipped smile, wordlessly begging him to drop the minor mistake on your end.

fortunately enough for you, jj was more excited about sharing his mini accomplishment rather than teasing you, so he instantly grinned, dragging you with him to show the boat. you had a smile of adoration on your face as you looked at your boyfriend, feeling your heart flutter at the endless passion he has for his work.

quite a time passed as you went back to your work, with jj sitting in front of you as he scrolled through his phone. you two usually had some quiet time whenever you worked, but you found it odd for it to be this silent — especially when jj was done with his work.

looking up from your laptop, your gaze meets his sparkling eyes, with him just staring at you with a look of mischief on his face.

“what?”

“about earlier, did you really use your — okay, okay, i’ll stop.”

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry! i promise i’ll–”

jj shut himself up as you glared, not in a good mood after all your white clothes had turned pink.

you took a deep breath, slowly blinking. “i told you multiple times …” you stressed on your words, because you indeed had mentioned the dangers of mixing colored clothes with white ones to your boyfriend. “… that you should be careful with the laundry.”

walking away from the pink clothes in an attempt to calm yourself, you sat on your bed, taking deep breaths. after a while of breathing, you went back into the kitchen, wanting to get your laptop and complete your work.

“jj, can you get–” you paused in your tracks, seeing the tall male standing in front of your papers, his hands covering his face. “what did you do now?” you sighed, already knowing from his posture that something was wrong.

“look, y/n … baby, i really love you, yeah?” jj had his hands together, wordlessly begging you to forgive him as you walked towards him. “just stay there, don’t come closer.”

you bit your lip as you saw your cup of coffee had fallen, and all its contents covered the lesson plan printouts you had worked hard to make. running your fingers through your hair, you tugged on it out of frustration, eyes twitching as you controlled the anger you felt.

“y/n, i’m really–”

“ssh! save it, maybank.”

you grabbed the nearest chair, picking it up and placed the chair in the room’s corner before silently going towards the storeroom. trying to remember where you kept them, you found the party hats you were looking for.

you beckoned jj to follow you, taking him towards the chair. “come. sit here.” you pointed at the seat, making him wear the party hat before making him face the wall. “this hat is your cone of shame. sit here and think about what you did.”

frowning, you crossed your arms over your chest, staring at your sulking boyfriend before you took your laptop, starting your work from the beginning as you sat at the dining table, keeping an eye on the male.

“babe, are you really–”

“you are in timeout right now. keep your mouth shut.”

jj sighed, turning from his seat. “come on, y/n. you can't be serious,” he said, looking at you with a bored look on his face.

“jj maybank!” you slammed your hand against the table. “you don’t speak when you are in a timeout!” you grumbled, still pretty mad about the little messes jj had made.

in an instant, he was there by your side, ignoring all the glares you gave him. “does it hurt?” he asked, worried as he held your hand, shaking his head as he saw the reddening marks.

“mhm.” you nodded, pouting at your boyfriend. “but it doesn’t hurt as much as it does to see all my white clothes pink.”

“i’m sorry, baby. i really am. if you forgive me, i promise to replace all of those clothes and help you out with your lesson plans.”

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[dylankeeper]

Sunrise

prompt: "it's three in the morning"

soft dramione; early birds; sunrise at the beach

"It's three in the morning."

Hermione could barely open her eyes. She didn't remember tying rocks to her eyelids, but they felt just as heavy. She tried again to open them more than a smidge. 

Draco's face was hovering over hers. His hair was a mess, he was still not wearing a shirt, and he was grinning widely.

Hermione groaned and rolled over. 

"Come on, come on, it's Sunday!" Draco said in a hushed excited voice, as if afraid to disturb the unmoving silence around them. 

"All the more reason to sleep longer," Hermione buried her face in her pillow, "Come back to sleep, Draco. Five more minutes. Or an hour more. Please."

"I'll make you pancakes later."

Damn him. 

"Fine."

Hermione heaved herself upright and rubbed her eyes. Draco pulled her hands away from her face and smiled down at her. 

"Good morning," he said, lips turning up in a smile. 

"I hate you," Hermione threaded her fingers through his hair and kissed his nose. 

It took a while for her to wash her face, make sure her breath wasn't gross, and then get rid of whatever disaster her hair was in. Half an hour later, she walked into the living room. 

Draco smiled at her, "You look good."

Hermione looked down at herself. She was still wearing her five year old pajamas, and a loose t-shirt that sagged on her frame and read '1995 Radio' in faded red letters. She didn't even remember how she had gotten it. 

"I question your choices sometimes." Hermione shook her head and walked to stand next to him. 

"Beach?" 

"Beach."

He took her hand and apparated. 

They landed some ways away from a cliff side. The ground was carpeted with soft grass that was moist with dew. The sky was still purple, but was beginning to turn lighter on the horizon. The sound of the sea filled the air, and Hermione breathed in deeply. 

They watched the sunrise every Sunday. Hermione was no early bird and sure, she did look fussy about it sometimes, but in reality she wouldn't lose this weekly ritual for anything. 

She laid a cloth down on the grass and patted it down. Draco sat down. They were both barefoot. Hermione sank down next to him. She placed her head on his chest. 

"We can take a nap together later, if you want." Draco said, his voice a rumble in her ears. 

She hummed and settled down more comfortably. After a while, she turned her head up to bury it in the crook of his neck, while her arm went around his waist. 

"Will you be mad if i fall asleep for just five minutes?" 

"No, darling, I won't."

"Promise you'll wake me up?" 

"Promise."

Draco's breathing worked as a soothing lullaby. His fingers tangled and untangled her hair, and soon he started humming something. 

She didn't know how five minutes went by, but it seemed like only a few seconds before Draco kissed her neck to wake her up. 

"The sun is coming up."

Hermione breathed him in. She took in his warmth, his affection, all of him. 

When she looked at the sun, it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, and she was feeling beautiful feelings and thinking beautiful thoughts and all was good in the world.