#i will be thinking about this for the next week

[filmnings]

you don’t know how excited i am to finally start reading this!! like i’ve been waiting for the spare time to sit down and devour all the words, let’s get right in to it hehe~╰(▔∀▔)╯

“Yet, for some strange, inexplicable reason, you find yourself absolutely obsessed with him.” the biggest smile just came to my face

“How can you be so obsessed with someone you loathe?” oh girl you’re about to find out

her finding the lessons in attraction book and immediately going like “yeah, that’s my professor FOR SURE” is killing me so bad😭😭 the way she slowly gets more and more obsessed with him is so me. like girl,,, hiding it in your stack of textbooks and not being able to look at the cashier?? LMAOOO that’s me when i go to the library and find some old ass book that’s looks interesting that i end up checking out

“Everything he does makes your belly swirl with need, even something as simple as running a hand through his hair or adjusting his glasses” i can literally picture soobin doing this and it’s driving MEEE crazy like omg girl i feel you i’d start tweaking in the middle of class

“Something about it excited you, reading about fucking your professor with your real professor standing there in front of you, none the wiser. Being able to admire him as you indulged in your secret desires. If he caught you, you would be humiliated, but you would be lying if you said that the thought didn’t excite you a little too…” oh she’s BOLD omg i cannot wait until they start fucking

“Miss L/N, what are you doing?” FUCK

““Give it to me.” he orders curtly, stretching out his hand.” i’d literally kms in front of the entire class and change the trajectory of their lives forever

GODDDD THIS IS SO EMBARRASSINGGGG

“He places it gingerly face-down on his desk like he was handling a dead fish, and you’re both grateful and horrified that he noticeably avoids making eye contact with you when he steps back up on his podium.” this is killing me

“And you’re absolutely sure it was, because the first thing you see once you step into his office is your professor lounging back in his chair reading your book.” HELLO?????

“Professor Choi glances up from your book, a mischievous glint shining in his eyes as he sends you a tight-lipped smile.” see id get naked right then and there and i’m so serious

is this a bad time to mention that i didn’t look over the warnings or anything?? i’m literally reading this completely blind hehe i hope he’s a secret hard dom

““I followed my professor to his office, watching with bated breath as he rounded his big wooden desk.”  Professor Choi reads aloud.” OH GOD HIM READING IT OUT LOUD ID LITERALLY DIE

“’Now bend over with your elbows on my desk, so that you are looking directly at the essay. Keep your face very close.’” i’m gonna need them to recreate this

soobin getting all flustered like YEAH YOU SHOULD’VE MINDED YOUR BUSINESS

“Professor Choi shut the book closed abruptly and looked up at you with a very red face and wide eyes.” what did we learn soobin what did we learn

“You shouldn’t be reading this. It’ll put... thoughts in your head that don’t need to be there.” extremely too late for that

“Karina and Giselle loved to go out and party.” omg my girls

“You stumble through the crowd in search of a bathroom sign, quickly getting lost in the sea of bodies.” can you imagine soobin being here id actually bust out laughing

“But all of that goes out the window when among the countless bobbing and weaving heads, you spot a frighteningly familiar pair of broad shoulders. “Professor Choi?!” you call out in shock, shoving your way towards him. “What are you doing here?!”” LMAOOOHDSHFHSIFBDJC

““Oh, this is Y/N?” One of the men slurs gleefully, a grin stretching across his handsome face. There was a certain hunger in the way he undresses you with his fox eyes, scanning you head to toe like a predator. You could tell from his flushed pink cheeks that he was very drunk. “I’ve heard all about you! It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”” hehe so you’ve heard about me??

““You’ve… heard about me?” you cringe, your heart sinking. Out of whatever Professor Choi had to say about you, none of it could be anything good.” our two different reactions LMAOOO

YEONJUN AND CHAN I JUST SCREAMED AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS (yeonjun call me)

““If you fuck him, please put in a good word for me.” Giselle slurs drunkenly in reply. “I need to pass that fucking class.”” HELPFHSXGHSBDHD so real tho

OMG THE WET DREAM???? and it’s about her apologizing too like oh girl you’re in DEEP…

“…And I was touching myself.” OH???????

“I could see your hand up your skirt all the way from the back of the class.” Professor Choi spits, his carefully controlled demeanor cracking and his wild, untamed anger boiling to the surface. “It’s like you’re trying to get the two of us caught. You’re lucky no one else was looking… or was that what you wanted? Did you want everyone to see what a slut you are?” giggling and kicking my feet

“I’m here to tell you, sir, that going through my book was an invasion of my privacy! And that it’s none of your business what I read! I’m an adult, not a child, and I can do whatever I damn well please!” PERIOD!!!! you tell him!!!

“Listen.” He growls, his voice octaves deeper than you’ve ever heard it before. “You’re acting way out of line right now. Don’t you dare ever talk to me like that, you understand me? I’m still your professor, even when we’re not in class. You’re to treat me with respect—” his voice getting deeper my god… (s)creaming… where’s that one lin manuel miranda meme when i need it

I FOUND IT!!!!

“I know you have some sort of feelings for me. You’re not very good at hiding it.” i wish gifs were easier to add in here cause right here i’d add in the gif of beyoncé winning the album of the year grammy like HELLO?????

“Your entire world comes crashing around you, though you suppose that you shouldn’t be too surprised. You had just let yourself hope beyond reason that he would never pay you any attention.” genuinely id try to disappear beneath the floorboards id be SO embarrassed

“and ten years your senior.” who cares about that,, NOT ME!!!!!

““But I do!” he interjects suddenly, his head shooting up to look at you with wild eyes. His entire face was bright crimson red.” evilly smirks,, i’ll literally bend over right now don’t test me

“and now I can’t go a single second without thinking about putting you over my knee! It’s driving me insane! I can’t even look at you!” DO IT DO IT DO IT RAHHHHHH 🦅🦅🦅

“Then do it.” you say, voice barely above a whisper. Soobin looks just as shocked at your proclamation as you were. “If you want to do it that bad, do it.” YESSSSSSSS

““Do you really want this?” He breathes, voice low, his breathing hard” YES. “the outline of his cock presses hard against your stomach through his slacks, making it considerably hard to focus on the words that came out of his mouth.” AHHHHHHH OH MY GOD

i think i just died.

“Use your words like a good girl.” i’m literally that girl singing against the wall right now. every christina aguilera and demi lovato song combined.

“That’s for being a fucking tease,” Soobin states, soothing your reddening flesh with a soft caress of his palm. “Being so fucking hot all the time and driving me crazy because I thought I could never have you.” my nose is literally pressed to my phone right now and i have the biggest smile

“You’re on the verge of tears from the red-hot stinging in your ass, but you still giggle at his words. “You’re kinky.”” SHE SOOOODJDHFHSBCBD😭😭 me riling him up so he can slap my ass more and harder

“You relished pushing him as far as he would go; you relished losing.” she’s so me

“Soobin grabs a handful of your hair and yanks hard, making you gasp loudly and your empty pussy flutter. Leaning down close to your ear, he lets out a warning growl; “I said fucking count.”” literally dripping right now

“Oh bunny, if this is too much there’s no way you’ll be able to take my cock…” let’s test it😁😁

“Soobin’s other hand, the one that had been stroking your hair, then comfortingly up and down your back, rises up to smack your ass, the sudden burst of stinging pain making you scream, and for real this time.” can you imagine passing his office and hearing all of this

“Can I please suck you off, sir?” about to give him to bj of his LIFE

“nearly as thick as a can and twice the length of one, throbbing veins making your mouth water.” me measuring this out: DAMNNNNN #needthat

“The hardwood against your cheek does nothing to muffle your loud, unabashed shriek, so he improvises by shoving two of his thick fingers past your open lips” OH MY GOD

HELLOOOOO??? that was so good oh my god???? i love the build up to it and how she progressively got more and more obsessed with him lmao,, i also like the subtle glimpses that he felt the same way about her too, like her saying how he wasn’t going to notice her reading the book since she sat in the back and him immediately noticing her, karina and giselle talking about how he looks at her and stares at her ass, yeonjun and chan saying how he never shuts up about her… like it’s so perfect

ANDDDDD soobin doing a whole 180 once he found out that she wanted him in the same way he wanted her too!!!! like literally so good, so delicious, i need him SO bad

hehe you ate once again!!! i’m so happy that you reworked this and that i finally got the chance to read it!! the rework is so so so good!!~~

CAUGHT BETWEEN THE PAGES ⋆˚࿔ 최수빈

your professor catches you reading a not-so-safe-for-school book in the middle of his class. in an effort to make things better, you fear that you may have just made them worse.

⧼ 📖 ⧽ 一 pairing ⸝⸝⸝ professor!choi soobin ✗ student!fem!reader includes ⚬ ⚬ ⚬ beomgyu and yeonjun of tomorrow x together, dino of seventeen, giselle and karina of aespa

genre ⚬ ⚬ ⚬ smut, fluff, porn with plot, comedy

warnings ⸝⸝⸝ teacher/student, age gaps, power play, light dom/sub dynamics, switch! to soft dom!soobin, masterbation (f. rec), erotic literature, explicit language and sexual content, spanking, cumming in pants, dirty talk, pet names, praise kink, name calling (slut), wet dreams, impact play, oral (m. rec), facefucking, deepthroat, big dick soobin, doggy style, sex on furniture, unprotected sex, creampies, talk of contraception (reader is on birth control), alcohol mentions, drinking and partying, hair pulling, size kink word count. 12. 2 k | ⧼ 📜⊹₊ ⧽ 一 to library.

[notes.] a rewrite of my first ever fic on tumblr, study night! this is a romanticization of student/teacher relationships where both parties are consenting adults, but it is important to note that these relationships can be problematic in real life due to one parties authority over another's and unstable power dynamics. thank you to @jellymochii, @biteyoubiteme and @beomiracles for proofreading! reblogs and feedback are very appreciated <3 i hope you enjoy!

YOUR LINGUISTICS PROFESSOR embodies everything you find detestable in a teacher. His classes are a monotonous drone of information, devoid of anything exciting or engaging, though that might not be entirely his fault with how boring the subject he teaches is. He rarely deviates from whatever script he had thrown together— no doubt just the night before, from the way he rambles and stutters— and he absolutely refuses to entertain any questions or foster any interesting discussion. He never accepted late assignments or gave any extensions, his tests are ridiculously hard, and he’ll dock points off your assignments for the tiniest, stupidest reasons. Sure, it’s a difficult course, and it’s important to your major, but you swear he seems to take some kind of pleasure in making his students miserable. Each class feels like an eternity, and often you find yourself counting down the minutes until you can escape the insufferable, suffocating atmosphere of his classroom.

Yet, for some strange, inexplicable reason, you find yourself absolutely obsessed with him.

Maybe it was because you spent your time in his class focusing more on him than any of the words that came out of his mouth. His irritatingly handsome, angular face and his pouty, kissable lips, how he turns red and gapes like a fish out of water when he’s talking himself into a corner or is asked a question he doesn’t know how to answer. His big veiny hands and how they look when he waves them around animatedly, filling your head with thoughts of how they would look caressing your body. His tall, fit body and how he towers over you whenever you come up to him, the way he has to lower his head to look you in the eye, a soldering heat bubbling in your belly from the way he makes you feel so small. The way he loves to pepper his lectures with painfully unfunny dad jokes, and the way he gets all blushy when no one laughs. It makes you cringe, but in some odd way you also find it incredibly endearing. Sometimes you even catch yourself giggling quietly, stupid and u lovesick puppy. You can’t stand to be his student, but you dream at night about being something else to him entirely— it’s a paradox that drives you to detrimental distraction. How can you be so obsessed with someone you loathe? His perplexing combination of qualities was like some kind of mystery you felt compelled to unravel, at the very least to put your own mind at ease.

That was when you found the novel. It was hidden in the romance section of your favorite used bookstore, squished between two old technicolor cover harlequin novels, it’s dark and simple spine juxtaposing against all the bright colors and ornate fonts. It intrigued you enough to pull it from the shelf and look it over, your cheeks heating up as you take in its cover. A headless, well-dressed man sat in a chair with his legs spread invitingly, the smart suit he was wearing disheveled and his undone belt held tightly in his hand, the leather strap resting against his inner thigh. The title Lessons in Attraction was printed where his head would be, vague but provocative enough to make your stomach flip. The man immediately reminded you of Professor Choi, from the way he was dressed to the prominent veins in his hands, and when you flip the book over to read the synopsis you understand the connection. It outlines the story of a steamy romance between a strict economics professor and his teaching assistant, an innocent, young virgin who wants nothing more than to please. It was as if the author had plucked your deepest fantasies straight from your head and printed them out on paper, then planted the book in the perfect spot for you specifically to discover. You knew just from skimming through the pages that reading it would only do you more harm than good, but you just couldn’t put it down, drawn to the story like an addict needing a fix. You hid it in your stack of textbooks, and you refused to look the cashier in the eye as they checked you out.

At first, you had intended to keep it hidden in your bedroom, only to be read late at night when your roommates were either out or asleep. But as your obsession with your professor continued to deepen, so did your obsession with the novel; soon you found yourself taking it with you everywhere you went, reading snippets whenever you had the chance and quickly shoving back into your bag anytime someone would walk by or glance over at you. Your dreams devolved into graphic, vivid replays of your favorite dirty scenes, with Professor Choi in the place of the professor from the story. You wake up hot and bothered every morning, and his class becomes even more difficult with your head now full of illicit, naughty fantasies. Everything he does makes your belly swirl with need, even something as simple as running a hand through his hair or adjusting his glasses— you can’t even bare to look at him, and instead try your hardest to focus on whatever boring tangent he was rambling on about… until you caught yourself fantasizing about how his deep voice would sound whispering dirty words in your ear.

You couldn’t take it anymore. Professor Choi’s lectures were beginning to feel more like sick torture— you needed something to keep you distracted before you went insane.

So, against your better judgement, you started to bring the novel to read in class. You sat far enough in the back that you were certain he wouldn’t notice, and your poor classmates were too bored out of their minds to look your way. It was easy to keep it hidden away tucked in your lap, so you could pretend to be writing in your notebook while you read. Something about it excited you, reading about fucking your professor with your real professor standing there in front of you, none the wiser. Being able to admire him as you indulged in your secret desires. If he caught you, you would be humiliated, but you would be lying if you said that the thought didn’t excite you a little too…

“Miss L/N, what are you doing?”

You nearly shoot straight out of your chair, your professor’s sudden call of your name shocking you out of your reverie. You had gotten so absorbed into your novel that you had forgotten to check to see if he was looking your way. “H-huh?”

“You keep looking at your lap.” Professor Choi remarks, peering up at you from his spot at the podium with an unamused frown. His thick-rimmed glasses made his pretty brown eyes appear even larger than they already were, blinking up at you like he was studying you through a magnifying glass. “You’re not on your phone, are you? You know I have a no-tolerance policy when it comes to electronics.” [GU1] 

“Oh! No, sir, I’m just…” your startled gaze bounces back to the book in your lap, and you swallow nervously. “Reading.”

“Reading?” Professor Choi echoes, raising his brow. “What are you reading? I assume it’s not the textbook, from the look on your face.”

You blanche, trying your hardest to appear nonchalant as you snap the book shut and shove it down into the recesses of your school bag. “It’s nothing!” You reply far too quickly, sounding guiltier than sin.

Professor Choi blinks, his magnified eyes raking over your sweating face before trailing down to your bag, clasped protectively in your lap.

“Give it to me.” he orders curtly, stretching out his hand.

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. “What?! W-why?!”

“Reading anything that isn’t the course material is against my class rules— I have it printed clearly on the syllabus, though with how you can never seem to pay attention I wouldn’t be surprised if you missed it when I went over it at the beginning of the semester. I would recommend looking over it again to see if there’s anything else you’ve forgotten. Now, get up and hand me that book.”

The entire class has turned to look at you now too, dozens of pairs of eyes fixated on your every move. The silence is absolutely deafening. Your heart races and your hands tremble as you squirm in your seat, trying desperately to come up with some sort of escape as if you were in a horror movie; you might as well be, because out of all the ghouls and monsters you can think of, this has to be your worst nightmare.

You consider refusing. Technically, Professor Choi couldn’t force you to do anything you didn’t want to— hell, you could walk right out of the classroom right then and there if you really wanted to, with both your book and your dignity intact. After all, you were a grown adult paying to further your education out of your own pocket. Trying to confiscate your belongings as if you were a child was borderline insulting.

But you can’t risk your grade over something like this, as embarrassing as it was, and you wouldn’t put it past him to penalize you in some way for defying your orders. You were already struggling as it was, partly because of how difficult the coursework was and mostly because of how you could never concentrate whenever Professor Choi was around. To make matters even worse, passing was a requirement for your degree. Getting even more on his bad side than you already were simply not an option.

It takes every ounce of energy you have to force yourself to stand up out of your seat and trudge down to Professor Choi’s podium, clutching your novel against your chest like you were clutching pearls. He has to pry it out of your hand with a considerable amount of force, because you can’t seem to loosen your fingers around the cover.

You scamper back to your seat, but not before turning back to see Professor Choi eye the cover with a startled expression. It would have been comical if you didn’t feel like you were seconds away from throwing up all over your desk.

He places it gingerly face-down on his desk like he was handling a dead fish, and you’re both grateful and horrified that he noticeably avoids making eye contact with you when he steps back up on his podium. “You can come by my office later to get it back, Miss L/N. I have a free period at six.”

“Yes, sir.” You answer glumly, staring at your shoes.

Luckily for you, he dismisses the class only a few minutes later, muttering about something to do with grading papers. You’ve never ran out of that lecture hall so fast in your life.

“Whoa, what’s up with you?” your friend Beomgyu asks when you walk by him in the hall, backpack and skateboard in hand without a care in the world. “You look live you’ve seen a ghost or something.”

You stop just long enough to realize that you were still running, even though you had made it nearly halfway across the building. “I’m so fucked.” You state simply.

“What? What happened? Did you do something to piss off Professor Choi again?”

“Yes. No. Kind of?” you cringe inwardly. There’s absolutely no way you’re telling Beomgyu about any of what happened; he’d laugh at you to the point you fear you might actually start crying. “I don’t want to talk about it. I gotta go.”

You shuffle away before he can respond, and while you feel bad ignoring him as he calls out to you in confusion, you’re focused solely on finding somewhere quiet and empty to hide out until your next class. And maybe grabbing an iced coffee or something. Just to drown out the tears as you wallow in your own misery.

Against all odds, you manage to make it through the rest of your classes. The wait was almost worse than getting caught, barely able to sit still in your seat as you panic inwardly for hours on end. If it was Professor Choi’s intention to psychologically torture you, he wildly succeeded.

And you’re absolutely sure it was, because the first thing you see once you step into his office is your professor lounging back in his chair reading your book.

“Professor!” you yelp.

Professor Choi glances up from your book, a mischievous glint shining in his eyes as he sends you a tight-lipped smile. “Oh, Miss Y/N! You’re just in time. I was just flipping through your book here, it seems awfully… interesting.”

You gulp, your trembling hands clutching the strap of your bag in a vain attempt to ground yourself. “Um, sir!” you squeak, rushing to his side to glance over his shoulder at what page he was on, praying to whatever god that will listen that he hasn’t read anything raunchy. “I think it would be best if you, um, didn’t read that…”

“Oh?” Soobin flips the page and quirks his brow, not even sparing you a second glance as he adjusts his glasses, “What do you mean?”

You rack your brain desperately for a good enough excuse, but you can’t think of anything other than just how mortified you were, watching helplessly as your professor’s keen eyes scan over the pages. “Can I have it back now?” you say instead, your voice small and shaking.

“Surely you can wait just a little longer— now I’m dying to know why you don’t want me to read this.” Professor Choi’s crooked, dimpled smirk infuriates you.

Was there any possible way that you could talk your way out of this without telling him upfront that what he was holding in his hands was an erotica, one about a teacher and a student no less? You shuffle nervously, stumbling over your words as you try to stutter out something, anything, “You, um… you wouldn’t like it.”

He turns his head to look up at you again, the look in his eye sharply changing when he takes in your frightened state, into something you don’t recognize and aren’t sure you like. “How can you be sure I wouldn’t enjoy it? I’m a fan of many different genres of literature, though I’ve never read anything quite like this before. Is it some sort of romance novel? If it is, you don’t have to be ashamed, Miss Y/N. I’m sure many young women such as yourself read these sorts of novels, though I strongly discourage reading them while I’m in the middle of a lecture. It’s simply disrespectful. Now, where was I?”

He trails his finger down the page as if he was looking for his place, and you bristle. “Sir, seriously, don’t—!”

“I followed my professor to his office, watching with bated breath as he rounded his big wooden desk.”  Professor Choi reads aloud. You barely stop yourself from screaming, instead letting out a sort of pained choking sound. “He stopped to stand behind me, looking down my shoulder as if he were looking over my essay just as I was. I had made three errors in my writing, each one circled in bright red ink. He seemed more upset about it than usual.”

“Professor, please.”

“’Put that essay on my desk.’ he said, so I did.” Professor Choi continues, ignoring you. He had gave the professor character a stupid, high pitched voice when he spoke, which would have been funny if you weren’t so humiliated. “’Now bend over with your elbows on my desk, so that you are looking directly at the essay. Keep your face very close.’”

“Stop it! Just let me have it!” You hated to talk to him this way, but if he continued reading any further… it took everything you had to keep yourself from running out of his office and crawling into the nearest ditch to die in.

“That’s not how you should speak to me, Miss Y/N. Now you certainly aren’t getting it back.” Professor Choi retorted, his evil little smirk growing even wider. You wanted to hit him, or kick or scream, but you couldn’t do anything except stand there and try your hardest not to cry. “I was puzzled, but I followed his instructions, bending over the top of his desk so that my chest, belly and arms were pressed against the hardwood. My nose was merely a centimeter or two away from the letter, which made it difficult to read. My skirt was starting to… to slide up the backs of my thighs, but I was sure that if I moved to tug it back down, I would just get into even more trouble.”

You grimace when Professor Choi’s voice broke, his smile slowly starting to slide off his face. But he did not stop reading. “’Now read the letter to yourself. Read it over and over again.’ My professor said. I read: “In today’s rapidly evolving global landscape, the integration of technology in…” and at the word “integration”, which I had misspelled, he— he… um… Oh.”

You began to feel less like wanting to die and more like you were actually dying. Professor Choi stared hard at the pages for a painfully long moment, his ears turning bright cherry red, but to your surprise and absolute mortification, he began to read aloud again. His voice had dropped that cheerful quality, however, sounding winded as if he had been hit upside the head. “At the word “integration”, which I had misspelled, he reeled his arm back and spanked me hard. I stopped reading with a loud gasp, shocked— the sting reverberated through my core, fiery hot, and despite my embarrassment I began to soak through my panties. At my silence, I was spanked again, even harder. ‘I said read it.’ My professor reminded me. ‘Be a good girl and follow instructions.’”

Professor Choi shut the book closed abruptly and looked up at you with a very red face and wide eyes. The tears that had been pooling in your lashes threatened to spill down your cheeks, so overcome with fear and embarrassment that your stomach turned like you were going to be sick. That was just what you needed to top off this already life-ruining experience, wasn’t it; vomiting all over your professor after he uncovers your darkest, dirtiest secret.

“This is extremely inappropriate material to bring on campus.” Professor Choi finally says, his voice wavering.

“Yes, sir.”

“And that relationship, it’s… wrong. It’s against the university’s code of conduct. I— he could get fired for that.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You shouldn’t be reading this. It’ll put... thoughts in your head that don’t need to be there.”

“…Yes, sir.” Part of you wants to argue with him, remind him that you’re an adult and can read whatever it is that you would like, but you don’t have the strength to.

He sighs heavily, like something important is weighing on his mind, and he hands you back your book before turning back to pour over the scattered, forgotten papers on his desk. “Go home, Miss L/N. And get rid of that book.”

You turn tail and scamper out into the hall, but you can’t help but glance back into Professor Choi’s office as you leave. He’s hunched over his desk with his elbows resting on the wood, his fingers tangled in his dark hair as he rests his head in his hands. It seems like something is bothering him, something bigger than grading papers or your stupid, silly book.

You don’t stick around to find out what it is.

The next morning, you receive a rather hastily written email from Professor Choi telling you that he’s cancelling classes for the rest of the week. He’s come down with a cold, he claims— you and the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach know better than to believe that.

You don’t see him until next Monday, but even then he might as well not have shown up at all. He struggles to get through his lesson plan even more than usual, and he wouldn’t look away from his papers or the projector, even when one of your classmates raised their hand to ask a question. You spent the entire period gathering up the courage to go up to him after his lecture, but when you do he brushes you off with a lame, half-baked excuse about having papers to grade and no time to talk, grabbing his things in a rush and scampering out of the lecture hall before you can call out for him to come back.

The pit in your stomach opens up into a black hole, swallowing up everything except for overwhelming, gnawing anxiety. It’s eating you up inside, manifesting itself in how you’ve chewed your lips until they bled, and then bit your nails down to the quicks— anyone with eyes could see that something was weighing on you, and you became increasingly tired of all your friends asking if anything was wrong, so once you were finished with your classes you took to hiding out in your dorm room curled up on the couch, your favorite fluffy blanket wrapped around you as you sullenly binge-watched a k-drama you’ve seen a thousand times.

While you were more of a homebody, your two roommates were much the opposite. Karina and Giselle loved to go out and party. Tonight was no different, the two of them flittering around the dorm as they got ready to go out to some club, and while they had given up on trying to get you to join them a while ago, something about the way you moped about seemed to reinvigorate Karina’s desire to get you off of your ass and out on the town. She knew you better than anybody, and immediately she could sniff out that something was off.

“Why don’t you come with us? You can borrow one of my dresses.” She offers, rummaging through her collection of high heels. “It’s a Friday night, everyone’s out! We can dance, we can find some boys to take home; it’ll be fun. You look like you need some.”

“I don’t need to have fun. I need to study.” You reply solemnly, scowling, but you make no moves to get up off the couch. It was a shitty excuse even to your own ears; it was obvious you didn’t have any plans to do anything tonight except feel sorry for yourself.

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” She huffs. You don’t even have to look at her to know that she’s rolling her eyes. “Something’s bothering you and you won’t even tell me or Gigi what’s wrong. Don’t you think a drink or two would be good for you? You can vent to us all night, too. I promise we’ll listen.”

“I don’t know if I even want to tell you about it.”

“Why not? We’re your best friends, Y/Nie. You can tell us anything, even if it’s stupid or embarrassing. If it’s bothering you this badly, it’s clearly something serious.”

You peer out from under the blanket to look over at Karina— the worry in her eyes makes your heart sink. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t even consider taking her or Giselle up on their offers, but the way you were stuck running circles inside your head was far from normal. “You promise not to laugh at me?” She smiles warmly. “Nope. But I promise I’ll hear you out regardless.”

The loud, thumping bass reverberating throughout the club did very little to help ease your pounding headache. Your temples throbbed with every beat, the pressure so severe it felt as if your skull was just moments away from splitting in two. You don’t think you’ve ever been this uncomfortable in your life; the dress that Karina gave to you was a size or two too small, the shiny fabric so tight around your chest that you gasp for air. It would be difficult for you to breathe even in properly fitting clothes, the air hot and heavy from the throngs of sweaty bodies that surrounded you. You felt claustrophobic, the crowd closing in on you and threatening to swallow you whole— the only place to escape was to the bar, but even there you’re bombarded with flashing lights, deafening music, and the overlapping voices of everyone around you. You have to strain your ears to make out what Giselle was saying, and she was just on the barstool right next to yours.

“Aren’t you glad you came?” She giggles, sipping on a brightly colored cocktail. She had ordered a round of them for all three of you, and the amount of alcohol mixed in them felt like a sucker punch to the face, even with all the sickeningly sweet grenadine the bartender had used to try and mask the flavor. You watch in abject horror as both she and Karina downed them one by one like they were water.

“No.”  you reply honestly.

“You will once you tell us what’s going on with you!” Karina interjects from your other side. “I meant it when I said I wanted you to vent to us, let it all out and give us the tea! Aeri’s dying to know.”

“It’s really embarrassing…” you admit, staring forlornly down at your own drink. “I’d rather just forget all about it.”

“It can’t be that bad. You didn’t drop your pants in front of everyone or anything, did you?”

You cringe. “God, no. It’s not like that.”

“Then it’s nothing you can’t tell us about.” Giselle shoots you a smile over the rim of her glass.

“It’s… it’s about Professor Choi.”

“Our linguistics professor?” Karina cocks her head. “Isn’t he the one you have a massive crush on?”

Your cheeks flush, your drink becoming even more interesting as you avoid looking at either of them in the eye. “Maybe.”

“Ugh, your taste in men is the worst.” Giselle snickers. “I don’t understand why you like him so much. He’s such a dick.”

You fight down the urge to defend him— for some odd reason, you feel a surge of protectiveness over Professor Choi, even when you completely agree with what Giselle is saying about him. “Yes, I like him, but that’s not the point. The point is that I totally fucked up and now I think he hates me.”

“What did you do?! Please tell me you cursed him out, he fucking deserves it.”

“No, Gigi, oh my God.” Even the mere thought of doing something like that sends shivers down your spine. “He caught me reading during class.”

“…That’s it? You’re freaking out over that?” Giselle blinks.

“It’s what I was reading that’s the problem.” you lament miserably, gathering your courage with a sip of your disgusting cocktail. “I have this book; it’s about a teacher and a student… getting together, if you know what I mean. It’s really dirty… and he caught me reading it in class. He took it, and then he read it himself right in front of me! He thinks I’m a freak. It’s been two days and he won’t even look at me.”

Karina and Giselle stare at you.

“Why the hell were you reading a smut book in class?!” Karina gasps, her dark glittery makeup making her wide eyes look even wider. “And one about a professor, too— were you trying to get caught? There’s better ways to go about telling him that you want to fuck him.”

“I don’t know— I was bored and stupid, okay?!” You had been asking yourself the same question for days, mentally beating yourself to a pulp every time it crossed your mind. “I thought he wouldn’t notice me since I sat in the back… now he’s going to tell the dean, and I’m going to get expelled, and—”

“Woah, woah, woah!” Giselle stops you in your downwards spiral, grabbing your shoulder to ground you. “You’re thinking too hard about this. He’s probably just a prude. If he was going to do something like that, he would have probably done it by now. Plus, I don’t think that’s really something you can be expelled over.”

You lean into her touch, resting your head on her shoulder as she pats your back comfortingly. “He’s mad at me…” you whine petulantly. “I was trying to get that TA position, too… fuck, I’m so screwed.”

“What would he be mad at you for? Being horny?” Karina laughs, “It’s really his own fault for snooping in your stuff.”

“I think you’ll still get it.” Giselle supplies helpfully. “You’ve really got nothing to worry about. Sure, your grade sucks, but I’ve seen the two of you talking in the hallway before— the way he looks at you is insane. And the way he looks at your ass when you leave is even crazier. You just showed him that you feel the same way about him that he does about you.”

“Don’t say that.” You groan. “You think that about every guy I talk to. There’s no way in hell that Professor Choi feels anything for me except hatred.”

“If you’re really that worried about it, you can always just apologize.” Karina says, drumming her long nails against her glass. “It might not do anything, but it’ll make you feel better.”

That was the first bit of real advice either her or Giselle had given you in a while, even if it left a bad taste in your mouth. “I don’t know. I feel like that would just make things worse. I need to go to the bathroom.”

You scramble off the barstool in a rush, teetering on your heels— you weren’t even that tipsy, but every step made you feel like a newborn deer. Karina and Giselle watch you hobble away in pity.

You stumble through the crowd in search of a bathroom sign, quickly getting lost in the sea of bodies. There’s little room to move around, everyone pressed up against each other dancing, too intoxicated to notice you trying to politely squeeze by. They jostle and knock you around, and you nearly trip over your own wobbly feet multiple times. Your headache grows nearly unbearable, your desperation to find an escape leading you to start pushing people out of the way so you can continue to move forward. One particularly drunk woman nearly knocks you to the ground, and she shoots you a dirty look over her shoulder when you shoulder past her roughly. You hate to be rude, but you’re teetering dangerously close to your breaking point. You need to find some peace and quiet, and fast.

But all of that goes out the window when among the countless bobbing and weaving heads, you spot a frighteningly familiar pair of broad shoulders.

“Professor Choi?!” you call out in shock, shoving your way towards him. “What are you doing here?!”

Without his suits and big clunky glasses on, you almost don’t recognize him. He was leaning back against the wall with two men who you vaguely recognize as other professors at the university, talking and laughing amongst themselves with beers in their hands. You admire the curve of his tall nose, the way his pronounced collarbones peeked out from the loose linen shirt he wore, the first few buttons undone to show a delicious strip of tan skin. His dark hair, usually gelled back to show his forehead, was left fluffy and untamed, framing his pretty brown eyes. He jumps a little at your voice, turning away from the men to look at you.

His eyes widen sharply, moving slowly from your face down to your chest. They linger there for a moment, blinking owlishly, before he tears them away from you completely, the tips of his ears turning bright red.

“Oh, um. Hello, Miss L/N.” he stutters, suddenly very interested in the state of his shoes. You make a quick mental note to thank Karina later for convincing you to squeeze yourself into this stupid dress.

“Oh, this is Y/N?” One of the men slurs gleefully, a grin stretching across his handsome face. There was a certain hunger in the way he undresses you with his fox eyes, scanning you head to toe like a predator. You could tell from his flushed pink cheeks that he was very drunk. “I’ve heard all about you! It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”

Something odd flashes in Professor Choi’s eyes and he jerks his head to shoot his friend a deathly glare. He doesn’t seem to notice.

“You’ve… heard about me?” you cringe, your heart sinking. Out of whatever Professor Choi had to say about you, none of it could be anything good.

“Oh, not much, just that you’re one of the brightest students that he’s ever taught.” The other man cuts in, chuckling. He tips his head back and takes a swig of his beer, flashing you his sharp jawline. “One of his favorites to have in class, he says.”

“Such a smart head on those little shoulders! You should consider taking my econ course next year, it’d be a gift to see your pretty face in my class.” The first man adds, his crooked smirk widening.

“Yeonjun, Chan, please.” Professor Choi grits out through his teeth, anxiously running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, what did you say, Miss L/N?”

You splutter as your lips refuse to form words. You?! The brightest student he’s ever had?! That was just a complete and utter lie; if it wasn’t for Giselle helping you with an extra credit assignment you had practically begged him on your knees for, you would be failing his class spectacularly. You couldn’t fathom why Professor Choi would say something like that to these two men, when nearly every class he was scolding you for being late, distracted, forgetting your deadlines, a combination of all three and more. Not only that, but with what had transpired the other day still fresh and stinging… they had to be saving face or making some kind of sick joke. As you collect your thoughts, you half expect them to start pointing and laughing.

“What are you doing here?” you repeat, peering up at Professor Choi’s blushing face. He avoids meeting your eyes, just like how he was in class.

“Am I not allowed to enjoy the start of my weekend?” he retorts, fiddling with the pull tab on his beer. “Clearly, you’re doing the same.”

He spits out the words like they left a bad taste in his mouth. It stung like an insult. “I thought you said you were busy.” you assert, biting your lip to keep from scoffing. The liquor giving you a little too much courage; he was still Professor Choi, even if now standing in front of you he looked like just any other guy.

“I… was.” He mumbles, “And now I’m not anymore. It’s really not any of your business.”

It takes everything you have to keep from blurting out that your book really wasn’t any of his business either, but you manage to hold your tongue.

“I’m sorry, I just— Sir, I need to talk to you.”

 “There’s nothing to talk about.” He says matter-of-factly. It’s far from what you were expecting him to say.

“What do you mean?” you challenge, your annoyance starting to turn sour. “It’s about the other day.”

Professor Choi continues to play dumb, though he keeps throwing sidelong glances to his coworkers. “What about it?”

“I want to apologize.” You bite hard on your lower lip. For doing nothing wrong.

Professor Choi’s eyes snap up to meet yours, inky dark irises wide in shock. “Y/N—”

“Apologize?” Professor Choi’s friend— Yeonjun— butts in, raising an eyebrow. “What happened?”

All the color leaves Professor Choi’s face, even the blush that was slowly trailing from his cheeks down his neck. He awkwardly clears his throat and averts his gaze, putting on a show of cupping his ear and pretending to be confused. “Sorry, I can’t hear you over all of this noise! If you have a question, I’ll be in my office tomorrow afternoon. Go on and have a good night.”

“Wait, Professor—!”

“Have a good night!”

It takes you a long time to find your way back to the bar, drunk, defeated, and stewing in your own thoughts. You’re pleasantly surprised to see that Giselle and Karina have been sat waiting for you all this time, but you don’t have it in you to feel happy or grateful as you plop yourself back onto your empty barstool. Their irritation quickly shifts to confusion and worry, both shooting you odd glances as Karina tentatively hands you another cocktail.

“Are you okay?”

“Did you get lost or something?”

You take a long sip, the disgusting sweetness and the bitter liquor overpowering your senses enough to calm your racing thoughts. “I think I’m going to go and talk to Professor Choi tomorrow.” is all you say.

“If you fuck him, please put in a good word for me.” Giselle slurs drunkenly in reply. “I need to pass that fucking class.”

“You’ve been a bad girl, haven’t you, Miss L/N?” Professor Choi whispers in your ear, his deep voice dripping with honeyed venom. The fabric of his dress shirt ghosts over your back, his body so close that you can feel the heat radiating off his skin. He has you trapped against his big wooden desk, bent over it obscenely with your ass in the air as you whimper and squirm. Your skirt and panties pool at your ankles, leaving your most intimate areas exposed for him to view. Your leaking pussy quivered from the icy cold air, your hole clenching desperately around nothing and aching to be filled.

“I’m sorry!” You mewl, voice wavering.

“You didn’t answer my question. What are you sorry for?” he presses, so deliciously condescending in the way he feigns ignorance, “Apologize to me properly and tell me what it was that you did.”

“I’ve been bad, sir. I was reading during your lecture, and I’m sorry—”

“Oh, you weren’t just reading.” Professor Choi scoffs, straightening himself up and off your back. He rounds the desk to circle you like prey, his slow methodical steps echoing throughout the quiet of his office. They echo in your ears and strike a dizzying mix of fear and anticipation in your heart.

“I-I was reading smut and…” your face burns hotter than the sun, and you close your eyes and take a deep breath to will yourself to have the courage to admit what it was you were caught doing. “…And I was touching myself.”

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that.” He stops to stand at your side, his mere presence hovering above you enough to make you shudder. “Tell me exactly how you were touching that slutty little pussy.”

His words go straight to your core, making you squeeze your thighs together in need. Just a little friction was all you needed, and the edge of his desk granted a great opportunity… but as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t let yourself give in to desperation and grind yourself against Professor Choi’s desk like a dog in heat. He would notice immediately, and it would only worsen your punishment.

“I was… I was rubbing my clit through my panties.” you admit ashamedly, “Grinding against my fingers. I was going to put one inside but you… you stopped me.”

“I could see your hand up your skirt all the way from the back of the class.” Professor Choi spits, his carefully controlled demeanor cracking and his wild, untamed anger boiling to the surface. “It’s like you’re trying to get the two of us caught. You’re lucky no one else was looking… or was that what you wanted? Did you want everyone to see what a slut you are?”

“N-no!” you gasp, but the idea gets you even wetter; you wanted nothing more than for everyone to know that he was much more than just your professor, that he was yours and in turn you were his. “I’m a slut j-just for you, no one else!”

“Fuck, that’s right.” he groans lowly, his voice dripping sex. He picks up a long wooden ruler off his desk, right by your head, and points the tip at the nape of your neck. It ran slowly down the curve of your spine, a ghostly barely-there touch that left a trail of fire erupt across your skin. He stops at the plush swell of your ass, gently caressing your flesh with the cold wood. “You’re all mine. My favorite little student. You just need some discipline to put you back in your place, hm? Show me what a good girl you can be and count for me.”

He rears his arm back, poised and ready to strike. You can hear the ruler whooshing through the air, sharp and fast as he swings his arm forwards—

Your eyes snap open with a gasp. Suddenly, you’re back in your bedroom, curled up safe and sound in your bed, groggy and disoriented as you slowly come back down to reality. While you dreamt about Professor Choi often, never had one felt this vivid, this real. You can still feel the echoes of his touch, the phantom pain of his ruler against your asscheek haunting you like a ghost. Your panties are soaked through completely, sticky arousal pooling in the fabric and dripping down your thighs, creating a wet spot on your sheets. You toss and turn to try and go back to sleep, but it’s no use; you’re so horny you can’t think straight, can’t ignore the dull throbbing in your core.

As your hand slides under the waistband of your panties, you decide that enough is enough.

You were at your breaking point. Your life had spiraled completely out of control in the span of just two days, all because your stupid puppy-love crush of a professor had to be nosy about your reading material. He just had to find a way to humiliate you even more than he already did, didn’t he? He could’ve just given you your book back and the two of you could have gone on with your lives. He shouldn’t have even taken your book in the first place! You could have continued fantasizing about him from the back of the class, not a worry in the world, instead of losing precious hours of sleep and mentally beating yourself up.

And after your interaction at the bar, you feel even more ridiculous. If Professor Choi truly had the intention of telling someone about what he had caught you reading, wouldn’t he have told the other professors that he was with? And lying to them about you being his smartest student…  you couldn’t wrap your head around it.

It was clear that Professor Choi didn’t want to talk about it. But even if he wants to pretend like none of this ever happened, you just couldn’t.

There was simply no other way for you to get over all of this other than finally confronting him. You needed to make the endless spiral stop, tell him exactly what was on your mind and finally put this to bed. The longer you stew over everything that has transpired, the more your fear and anxiety boils over into anger. This was all Professor Choi’s fault! You needed to give him a piece of your mind, or you don’t think you’ll ever be able to move on.

Professor Choi doesn’t answer until after the fifth knock, his face immediately dropping once he swings open his office door to see you standing there in front of him. His hair is a mess and his clothes are disheveled, his tie half undone and his shirt sleeves rolled up past his elbows. Anxiously he adjusts his glasses, the wide brown eyes behind them looking like a cornered deer’s. “You actually came over to apologize?” He blurts out before you can even open your mouth, genuine surprise taking over his features. “I didn’t think you—"

“Actually, no, I’m not here to apologize!” you declare, the words spilling out before you gave yourself the time to second guess yourself. You had lied awake until the sun came up thinking about what to say, and you weren’t going to let those wasted hours go to waste. “I’m here to tell you, sir, that going through my book was an invasion of my privacy! And that it’s none of your business what I read! I’m an adult, not a child, and I can do whatever I damn well please!”

Professor Choi blinks owlishly, staring at you in stunned silence for so long that your newfound confidence falters and you begin to shuffle nervously.

“Oh. Um… alright.” He finally says.

“Alright?!” you echo incredulously, your irritation coming back in full swing. “You’ve been avoiding me for days and all you have to say for yourself is alright?!”

Professor Choi’s eyes flicker around anxiously, and it suddenly hits you that you were yelling at him in a public hallway. “I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“Yes you do!” you shriek. This really wasn’t how you were planning on any of this going, but it was far too late to turn back. You open your mouth to continue your rant, face burning hot with unbridled rage, but Professor Choi quickly grabs your wrist and roughly pulls you into his office. The sudden act shocked you into silence, your eyes wide and mouth agape as he drags you all the way back to his desk. 

“Listen.” He growls, his voice octaves deeper than you’ve ever heard it before. “You’re acting way out of line right now. Don’t you dare ever talk to me like that, you understand me? I’m still your professor, even when we’re not in class. You’re to treat me with respect—”

“Then you treat me with respect first!” you retort, though you do manage to calm yourself down enough to lower your voice. “Playing dumb and refusing to talk to me after humiliating me in front of everyone! What was even the point of doing that? Was it just for your own sick pleasure?!”

“Y/N.” Professor Choi sighs, the second time you’ve ever heard him call you by your first name— the first was at the club, but you were far too distracted to dwell on it. “I know you have some sort of feelings for me. You’re not very good at hiding it.”

Your entire world comes crashing around you, though you suppose that you shouldn’t be too surprised. You had just let yourself hope beyond reason that he would never pay you any attention.

“What I’m trying to say is… Y/N, you need to stop it. Get rid of the book. I can’t be with you, it’ll never work, okay? I’m your teacher, and ten years your senior. There’s plenty of college boys around campus for you to ogle over instead.”

“You say you can’t but… do you want to?” you ask quietly, barely above a whisper.

Professor Choi doesn’t meet your eyes. “I could get in a lot of trouble, Y/N. You could too.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” You challenge, a hopeful spark igniting in your chest. He didn’t say no… and you may be looking too into things, or just clinging onto hope, but that was more than enough proof to you that your professor was hiding some feelings of his own.

“We can’t do this.” He mumbles, his voice growing wilder, more defiant.

“Sure we can! I’m an adult, you’re an adult… did I scare you away with my book or something? Look, it’s okay if it wasn’t up your alley. There’s nothing wrong with being vanilla, Professor. You don’t have to, like, spank me or anything—”

“But I do!” he interjects suddenly, his head shooting up to look at you with wild eyes. His entire face was bright crimson red.

“You… wait, what?” you must have misheard him. That was the only explanation, surely; There was no way he actually—

“I can’t stop thinking about it! I thought there was no way you’d be into anything like that, that I needed to stop thinking about you and move on like a professional, but then you go and pull this, and now I can’t go a single second without thinking about putting you over my knee! It’s driving me insane! I can’t even look at you!” 

“Professor—”

“Soobin. God, just call me Soobin. I can’t handle you calling me that right now.”

You open and close your mouth a couple of times, surely looking like a fish out of water— This was the absolute last thing you expected to come out of your professor’s— Soobin’s—mouth. Your eyes bulge out of your head, your face burns hotter than the sun… your pussy clenches pathetically. It felt like you were in a dream, almost, which might have been why you suddenly felt so brazen— if you wanted him, and he wanted you, who were you to deny him?

“Then do it.” you say, voice barely above a whisper. Soobin looks just as shocked at your proclamation as you were. “If you want to do it that bad, do it.”

He moves in a flash, giving you no time to prepare— within seconds has you thrown over his lap on his office swivel chair, your hair hanging in your face as you blink wildly at the floor. Soobin brushes one of his big hands against you skirt-clad ass, barely a brush of his fingers, but you still gasp all the same.

“Do you really want this?” He breathes, voice low, his breathing hard—the outline of his cock presses hard against your stomach through his slacks, making it considerably hard to focus on the words that came out of his mouth.

It takes you a moment, but you manage to choke out a whiny “Yes, sir, please.”

Soobin stutters out an uneven breath, his fingers inching down to the hem of your skirt, teasing the tops of your thighs for just a moment before pulling the fabric up to expose your ass, a noticeable wet spot present on your panties.

“So pretty…” He coos. You can feel his cock twitch against your stomach, those long knobby fingers trailing along the edge of your lacy thong. “Is it okay if I take your panties off, bunny?”

You whimper and nod your head— Soobin lands a gentle love-tap to the junction of your thighs with an airy chuckle. “Use your words like a good girl.”

This couldn’t be happening. You had to be dreaming, or hallucinating, or something, anything except truly living through this fantasy come to life— Boring, bland Professor Choi, the biggest prude you thought you knew, was just way too good at this, at making your legs shake and your pussy throb all the while barely touching you. In just an afternoon your reality had shifted from thinking that he had to be the world’s biggest loser virgin to thinking that he was even sexier than the professor in your book.

You weren’t sure how to feel about it, but your cunt did. 

You must have stayed silent for too long, because without much warning Soobin lands a much harsher spank to the top of your asscheek. “Bad girl!” he admonishes, and you can hear the teasing, dimpled grin in his voice “C’mon baby, use your big girl words. Tell me how much you want it.” His hot breath fans over your ear— you couldn’t hold in your moan even if you tried, the broken whine sounding weak and pathetic even to your own ears. 

“P-Please, sir… please take my panties off. Please spank me.” you whimper, your face beet red and your pussy drooling— Soobin’s deft fingers stroke slowly up and down your folds, feeling the wetness seep through the cotton fabric of your panties. You bite your lip to keep from screaming.

“That’s my good bunny.” You could hear your panties rip as he tears them off of you in one solid motion, the biting cold air meeting your hot soaking cunt and making both you and Soobin hiss. He admires the slick leaking down your thighs for a brief silent moment, deep breathy voice cooing at the way you arch into him and his touch, before he straightens back up and lands a stinging, eye watering spank deliciously close to your core. You yelp at the sting.

“That’s for being a fucking tease,” Soobin states, soothing your reddening flesh with a soft caress of his palm. “Being so fucking hot all the time and driving me crazy because I thought I could never have you.”

You hadn’t realized that this was confessional. Shooting him an evil smile over your shoulder, you giggle, “You could’ve just asked.”

Another spank, this time with even more force. Your hips buck with a shrill cry spilling from your open, panting mouth, your eyes watering— you had no idea Professor Choi was this strong. He refuses to give you any time to prepare, never warning you when the next hit to your ass will come. “I didn’t say you could talk back.” He growls.

You’re on the verge of tears from the red-hot stinging in your ass, but you still giggle at his words. “You’re kinky.”

Soobin just rolls his eyes, spanking you again, albeit a little softer. “And this one’s for being a brat. How about you start counting for me, bunny? That’s one.”

“One?! You’ve hit me four times!” Maybe you were pushing it too far, but it just came naturally to you to fight back, make him work for your submission and obedience. You relished pushing him as far as he would go; you relished losing.

Soobin grabs a handful of your hair and yanks hard, making you gasp loudly and your empty pussy flutter. Leaning down close to your ear, he lets out a warning growl; “I said fucking count.”

You don’t think you’ve ever been this wet in your life. Torn between bucking your hips into Professor Choi’s bulge and pushing back into the touch of his hand, you give a quiet, watery whimper of “One…”

The hand holding your hair lets go, your head falling limply over his knee. “That’s my girl.” He coos lowly, stroking your head.

It distracts you enough that the next harsh slap to your ass feels even more intense than any of the others before it. “T-two…”

“That’s for being so fucking disrespectful. And in front of my colleagues too, no less. It’s like you were asking for me to ruin you.” Soobin tsks. “You need to learn to watch your mouth.”

The urge to say something smart tugs at you again, even if just to prove his point, but another spank rains down on your sore, bruising asscheeks before you can seize the opportunity.

“T-three!”

“And that’s… that’s for pushing me to put you over my lap in the first place. You couldn’t just leave it alone, could you? And now look at you, making me risk my job to teach you a lesson.” Soobin’s voice wavers, filling with an emotion you couldn’t quite place— it was extremely difficult to focus on his words when his fingers began to trail down the curve of your ass to your sticky, quivering folds, rubbings the tip of his thumb right over your clothed core. You moan unabashedly, shifting your hips and opening your legs to give him better access to what was peeking out between your thighs.

The fifth spank never comes. Soobin tugs your panties to the side and pushes two long, thick fingers between your folds, stuttering out a low moan like he was the one being touched. He starts a rough, dizzying pace almost immediately, his fingertips searching for that spongy spot inside of you. You grind your hips back against Soobin’s fingers, a drooling mess against his slacks.

“Pr-Professor…” you whine high in your throat — you want more, want him to speed up, slow down… his touches were driving you wild. You hadn’t been touched like this ever before.

“I told you not to call me that.” He hisses, curling his fingers against your sweet spot and making you keen. “Please, call me by my name.”

“Soobin!” you cry out, writhing against him. You felt a passion rising within you like the hottest fire, clouding your brain. You couldn’t think of anything except of the pleasure that he gave you, couldn’t utter out anything other than his name.

“Such a slut, falling apart just on my fingers…” he chucks huskily, enamored with the filthy wet sounds your cunt made and how they echoed through the quiet office. “I’ve thought about doing this for forever, God… you’re just as beautiful as I thought you’d be.”

His thumb, wet from your arousal, comes down to rub tight, delicious circles against your sensitive, engorged clit, your strangled wail no doubt loud enough to be heard from the hallway. The building ecstasy distracts you enough for him to push in a third finger into your tight hole. The stretch burns but you love it, your hips kicking and moans growing louder and louder as he effortlessly takes you apart. 

“...Too much…!” you manage to choke out, digging your teeth into the fabric of Soobin’s slacks to keep yourself from screaming out in bliss. You felt full to the brim, pushed closer and closer to the edge with every rough flick of your clit and thrust of his perfect talented fingers. He teases a fourth finger around your leaking, stretched out rim, the threat of it alone enough to make your eyes roll back in your head.

“Oh bunny, if this is too much there’s no way you’ll be able to take my cock…” 

The tears that had been brimming in your eyes start to stream freely down your burning cheeks, choked hiccups and sobs wracking your body, but it was the most pleasurable agony you had ever been in. Your hips move with a mind of their own, bucking against Soobin’s cock, thick and hard as a rock, only seeming to grow bigger and bigger every time you rub against it. You relish the sharp intakes of breath he takes every time you move against him. He was starting to fall apart too, you could tell, his voice sounding a lot less dominating and a lot more whiny and pathetic with each roll of his hips up into your tummy.

“I’m gonna… gonna make you cum on my fingers,” he whines low in his throat, his hand completely soaked in your arousal up to the wrist. “You gonna make a mess for me?”

His fingers dig impossibly and wonderfully hard into your sweet spot, that white-hot band of desire in your stomach winding tighter and tighter with each perfectly aimed thrust. You wail and sob, your hand reaching back to grab a tight fistful of his shirt sleeve. “I-I-m— ‘m gonna cum!”

Soobin’s other hand, the one that had been stroking your hair, then comfortingly up and down your back, rises up to smack your ass, the sudden burst of stinging pain making you scream, and for real this time.

 “You gotta ask first, bad girl! Gotta ask for permission b-before you cum…” His voice starts to break, his hips stuttering helplessly— the feeling of his big fat cock grinding hard against you only added to the fire in your belly. 

“Can I cum? Please, sir, can I cum? I’ll be a good girl, I promise, just let me cum!” you had no control over your mouth, hardly any conscious at all— all you could focus on was the tightening in your belly, the way Soobin’s fingers thrusted in and out of your pussy so good… you were his brainless whore, fucked dumb on his fingers. 

“Shit, go on honey, my good girl, my bunny… cum all over me, make a mess!” with his permission you let yourself topple over the edge, moaning and whimpering like a whore as you soak your thighs, Soobin’s hand, his shirt and slacks with your juices. You lay across his lap twitching for quite some time afterwards, your chest heaving like you had just run a marathon… you’d never come before like that in your life, not as hard or for as long. Soobin was with you the whole way as you come down from your high, sweet as can be as he coos praises into your hair and pats your back, kissing your head when you raised it to look over your shoulder at him.

Slowly, you realize that you no longer feel his bulge poking at your belly. You release your iron grip on his shirt to slide your hand down his chest and abdomen, all the way down to gently cup his very wet crotch. “Sir…?”

“S-sorry, bunny… couldn’t help it…” he turns his head away from you to hide his glowing red face, but you can see how his blush spreads down his neck and up to the tips of his ears.

“Did you just… cum?” you ask in awe and disbelief, looking down to see a dark stain spreading across the fabric of his slacks. Soobin only mumbles in response, refusing to answer or turn back to look at you, his blush growing an even deeper shade of red. It was all the confirmation you needed.

Professor Choi came in his pants like a virgin without you even needing to touch him. Something about that alights a blazing inferno in your core, your senses overtaken with need even though you had just had an orgasm yourself.

“I want to taste it.” You breathe out, your overwhelming desire eclipsing any rational thought and taking control of your words.

“Y-you… what?” his head snaps back to you in surprise, his eyes wide and clouded with lust as they gaze headily into yours.

“Your cum, wanna taste it, want it on my tongue…” you’ve never spoken like this to anyone, your voice not feeling like your own— the words spill out from between your lips mindlessly, desperate for more of Soobin’s brain numbing pleasure as you rub him through his slacks. His cock twitches underneath your fingertips, beginning to harden again from the ministrations. “Can I please suck you off, sir?”

“Fuck.” Soobin moans, rough and deep in his chest, the sound shooting straight to your sensitive pussy. “Yeah you can, naughty girl, come on, get on your knees and suck my cock. Clean up my mess.”

Your entire body feels limp and weak, not wanting to cooperate with you as you slide off of Soobin’s lap to the floor. It takes great effort to get yourself situated, kneeling on the floor with your unsteady hands grasping at his thick thighs. He widens his legs to give you more room to get comfortable, one of his big hands instinctively coming down to tangle in your hair as your own begin to slide up the insides of his thighs towards his straining belt buckle.

Ever so slowly and meticulously you unbuckle Soobin’s belt, the jingling of the metal buckle as it’s casted aside like music to your ears. You pull his pants and boxers down together in one rough tug, Soobin canting his hips to help you guide them down his thighs. His cock springs free and slaps obscenely against his belly, smearing the light fabric of his dress shirt in his thick, viscous cum. You can’t help but stop and stare, enamored by the sheer size of it— nearly as thick as a can and twice the length of one, throbbing veins making your mouth water. Cum still leaks from his angry red tip, fat and bulbous, the entirety of his length wet and shiny down to his heavy, twitching balls and neatly trimmed pubes.

You kiss the tip with a delighted grin, the contact barely-there but enough to make Soobin throw his head back and whimper in delight. Your tongue peeks out from between your lips to slide across his slit, earning a high-pitched needy hiss from the man above you, his long fingers tightening their grip on your hair as you lick down his dripping shaft. His thick, salty cum tastes like ambrosia on your tongue, the delicious bitterness quickly getting you drunk. You can’t stop until you lick him completely clean, and even then it’s impossible for you to pull away, the feeling of his weeping cockhead heavy on your tongue far too addicting. Greedily you suck him into your mouth, relishing in the way his girth stretches your lips before swallowing him deeper and deeper until his tip knocks against the back of your throat. You can hardly fit your hands around him, let alone your mouth, fisting what couldn’t fit down your throat as you start bobbing your head. More broken tears collect on your lashes and drip down your wet cheeks, looking utterly ruined and wanton as you gaze up from between Soobin’s legs into his hazy, unfocused eyes.

The eye contact is too much for him— his eyes roll back in his head with a whimper and his cock twitches violently inside of your mouth, the grip he has on your hair shifting from guiding your head along his shaft to tugging you off him with a sudden and disorienting strength. He pulls you off him with a wet pop, a foamy string of saliva connecting from his shiny cockhead to your needy whimpering lips.

“I’m gonna cum again if you don’t stop,” he pants, gasping for breath, “I gotta fuck that pussy first, bunny, please. Need to feel that tight cunt squeezing around me.”

“D’you wanna cum inside?” you goad, a lustful, mischievous grin overtaking your features, “Don’t worry, Soobin, I’m on the pill. You can fill me up if you want to.”

Your words make him visibly shake, what was left of his flimsy resolve crumbling right before your eyes, leaving nothing but primal hunger. “Get on the fucking desk.”

You obey immediately, hardly able to contain your excitement as you stumble to your feet and bend over Soobin’s big oak desk, wiggling your ass in the air invitingly. Your skirt and panties were still pulled up and pushed aside, exposing your dripping puffy hole for his eyes to feast upon.

“So pretty…” he croons behind you, his hands caressing your hips and waist. They smooth over the exposed globes of your ass, his fingers fiddling with the gusset of your drenched panties. Sheer pink lace that compliments your flushed skin, looks so delectable running through Soobin’s fingers as he grabs your asscheeks and spreads them wide. “You look so cute in pink.”

he hisses in appreciation at the sight of your dripping hole quivering, sliding a finger down between your pussy lips to circle at your engorged clit. “Holy fuck, you’re so wet,” he groans, accentuating his claim with a flick of his hand— your pussy squelches obscenely, the lewd, pornographic sound making your cheeks flush. “I can’t take it anymore, I have to be inside of you— you can take it, right bunny?”

“Please!” you beg, hardly able to string together a sentence, “Please, sir, put it in, I need it so bad, need your cock—”

You’re interrupted by the feeling of his cockhead slapping against your entrance, Soobin running the leaky tip up and down your slit a few times just to hear your little whimper before burying himself inside to the hilt in one smooth thrust. He rams into you with a force that knocks the air out of your lungs, his long fat shaft stretching out your hole much more than you could have ever been prepared for. The burn is indescribable, overwhelming every single one of your senses in the best way, your tight gummy walls gripping his cock like a vice as the both of you struggle to adjust.

He's so deep inside of you it feels as if he’s poked through your cervix and into your womb, his big fat mushroom head snug right beneath your belly button. You’re so deliciously full that it makes your head spin, already fucked completely brainless before Soobin had even begun to properly move.

“Does it hurt?” he asks you softly, so gentle compared to how he carved out your insides. In any other circumstance you would find it sweet that he was this concerned, but you were certain that if he didn’t start moving inside of you right then and there, you were going to die.

“More.” you croak back in response. “Give it to me.”

With a winded groan, Soobin relents. He pulls his cock out until just the head was inside of you, giving you not a single moment to prepare before slamming back in with a force that knocks you further up on the desk. The hardwood against your cheek does nothing to muffle your loud, unabashed shriek, so he improvises by shoving two of his thick fingers past your open lips, the musky tang of your own juices filling your mouth when you suck hungrily at the digits. He set up a punishing rhythm within seconds, his hips clapping loudly and wetly against your ass while he muffles your whines and wails. His heavy balls smack against your oversensitive clit with every rough thrust, sending shockwave after shockwave of pleasure straight to your core. The desk cuts into the skin of your hips painfully, but if anything, it only adds to the burning sweetness building steadily in the pit of your belly.

“F-fuck, I’m close already!” Soobin puffs against the shell of your ear, pressing himself up against your back— you’re suddenly thrown back into your dream from the night before, the way the sensations were eerily similar yet nowhere near as good as the real thing. “Gonna cum inside you, is that okay? Wanna see how pretty your pussy looks dripping my cum.”

You can only drool in response, your thoughts fragmented and scattered, babbling desperate nonsense and rolling your hips back to meet Soobin’s thrusts with a dizzying force. Your body vibrates with liquid fire, heating your puffy cunt and quivering thighs— faster than ever before were you hurtling towards your climax, that familiar tightening in your core growing harder and harder to bear. You wanted nothing more than to yield to the tide, let it overtake you completely, and in turn pull Soobin down with you.

Your professor was going to cum inside of you. The fantasies that had haunted you for months truly became a tangible reality. What did you do to make you so lucky?

“This slutty pussy’s sucking me in so fucking tight,” Soobin groans, his thrusts growing sloppier, “Tell me you want my cum, baby, come on. Who’s cum do you want inside of you? Tell me and I’ll give it to you!”

“Yours!” you shriek with the last remaining bits of your energy, your words nearly incomprehensible to how you sniffled and sobbed around Soobin’s fingers. “Want your cum— my professor’s cum inside of me!”

You took a gamble, but it was just what he wanted to hear. With one last aggressive thrust, Soobin bottoms out inside of your pulsating cunt, his bulbous cockhead kissing your battered cervix as he cums with a broken cry. The sensation of his sticky, hot seed splashing against your insides is just what you need to tip over the edge yourself, your walls clamping down on him and milking him for all he’s worth as you ride out your own climax with long, surrendering moans. He hisses from the overstimulation, but he makes no movements to pull out, letting himself soften inside of you as you both struggle to catch your breaths. Thick viscous globs of your mixed cum leak out from where you’re connected, dripping down your thighs and Soobin’s balls to collect in a puddle on the floor.

You gaze over your shoulder to watch as Soobin slowly and carefully pulls out, a creamy, foamy white ring formed around the base of his cock. His glasses were fogged up from his heavy breathing, his hair and clothes even more a mess than it was when he had first opened the door, his pink face so irritatingly kissable when he shoots you a nervous dimpled smile.

You cant help but giggle at him.

“You’re not going to… tell anyone about this, are you?” he asks you anxiously, opening one of the desk’s drawers to retrieve a packet of tissues.

“As long as you explain to me why you told those other professors that I was your best student.” You reply smartly, your grin widening when he scowls.

“It was the only way I could think of how to explain why I talk about you so much.” He admits shyly, wiping down the mess between your thighs. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d rather if we continued that charade so it doesn’t look suspicious when I ask you to come to my office every once in a while.”

“Will you give me that TA position then?”

“You technically don’t qualify,” He laughs, “but I thought that was a given.”

“You won’t regret bending the rules a little, I promise.” You tell him with a wink and a smile. The love-stricken, goofy dimpled grin he shoots back at you makes your heart soar.

“I know I won’t.”

𝒯O𝔐ORROW X 𝒯O𝒢E𝒯HER 𝒯A𝒢L𝒾S𝒯 ⪼

@dwaekkicidal , @11vr1 , @jjunbug , @enigmaticaphrodite , @jellymochii, @mapofthemazeinthemirror, @fullbodyblankets , @hyunj00 , @yunverie, @izzyy-stuff, @arcturus444, @love-ning, @gncbnahc, @dawngyu

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[sai-int]

fwb!simon, reader catches feelings- NO. FWB!SIMON BUT SIMON CATCHES FEELINGS.

it's quite simple.

simon comes home from a mission, he's restless, twitching, pacing, can't figure out what to do with his hands.

so what does he do? he knocks on your door, waiting anxiously until you open it and he's scooping you up, hauling you across the hall and into his basically empty apartment, and fucking you into the mattress for the night.

and you're just so good at taking it—whatever he gives you and whenever he gives it. you cry, whine, beg and plead for his cock in all the ways you know how—until you go blue in the face—and simon fucking revels in it. he's all harsh words and degrading names, calling you a filthy slut, his cocksleeve, a fucking cumdump—you name it, he's probably said it.

it's perfect, until it's not.

he's spent months fucking you stupid, night after night. he fucks you even when he's not restless. he fucks you when he's bored, when he's lonely. especially when he's lonely.

simon riley's a gridlocked man. hardly anything ever gets past him, but it didn't take many rendezvous between your thighs for him to forget that.

his mask would come fully off—not just above his lips—and you'd still kiss him breathless, still scream his name until your throat went hoarse. you weren't afraid of everything underneath. if anything, you liked it.

It's not like the both of you frequently exchanged actual conversations, but he could tell by the way you dripped and soaked his sheets even more than you ever had.

after that, he even began to gather enough courtesy to let you get some rest after he fucks you, letting you stay wrapped in his sheets for whatever sliver of the night was left.

you never pushed, and that's what he liked most about you. you always went by his terms because you never really cared as long as you got fucked six ways from sunday.

so, you always left when he woke without a problem. that was the arrangement and you were more than fine with getting a good fuck only a few steps away from your own home.

then even you began to notice the shift.

simon could never fuck you badly, per se. but he began to fuck you more softly. tenderly, as if he was suddenly aware that humans shouldn't be bent in half as long he's had you pinned underneath him in the past. he'll rock his hips into you with similar fervor, but he'd caress you, rather than grab at you. hold your forehead to his, rather than choke you with his thick hands.

then came the praise. god, it's like fucking a completely different man. from one week to the next, you're no longer a slut or a hole, you're pretty girl and angel. it makes your head spin. you try to pinpoint the change and why it happened, but you can't. somehow, you cum twice as hard now.

it all came to an ugly head when he spent the better part of 2 hours between your thighs, moaning and groaning as if you were doing him a service.

now, you weren't going to complain, but love just wasn't in the cards for you right now, and the looks simon was giving you from where he lapped at your cunt were filled with adoration, like he was waiting for you to tell him how good he was doing.

hell, you could see a phantom tail wagging each time his eyes met your own. and after a session that felt more like making love than an explosion of pure lust, you could feel his eyes lingering on you as you slipped your panties back on.

"what?" you hum, not wanting to face him in fear you'd see that godforsaken look in his eyes again.

and you were right, because he's staring at you like he's about to drop to one knee. "nothin'."

you toss your shirt back over your head and steel yourself as you turn to face him.

"simon," you start and he's already hanging on your words, "what's going on with you lately? i don't mean to sound rude but—"

this is it, he thinks. it has to be now, or nothing will change. he's not a religious man, but if he's ever prayed to god for anything, it's for this to become something real.

"'m in love with ya."

one blink, then two. two to three, three to four. you stare at him as you try to piece together what he's saying.

"simon, i don't think you understand—"

"—i do. i do understand and i want ya, bad. so bad, i can't even stop thinkin' bout ya, sweetheart. even when y'not 'ere im thinkin' about ya. everything about y'is perfect, and i don't think i can function without y'with me."

this is the most emotion you've ever seen out of simon and it rocks you to your core. if you didn't know better—and if the lighting wasn't so dim—you'd think he was tearing up.

you didn't know how to break it to him.

[rebelssvy]

addicted ✧.*

nanami x reader ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

added twt links !!!

summary: nanami was going out of town and had you recreate his fave porn so he could record. a little spanking, sex, oral sex fem receiving, he finishes in u.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

this came from an ask. i am working on the second part of it now, ukai version. save urself. this was also my first full jjk fic!!! lmk what u think

nanami had an actual problem. he was addicted to your pussy.

he was going on a mission soon, and the though of not having you clamping down on his cock every night brought him close to tears. he’s never been this emotionally distraught in his life. finally an idea struck his mind.

“my love?” he said as you two were cuddling in bed. your wine glass was on the counter next to you. deeply immersed in his love you lazily turned to face him.

“yes?” your voice alone did things to him. ungodly things. things that made him go heavy in the head.

“my mission is coming up soon and… i just keep thinking about how much im gonna miss you.” he said rolling over to put his head in the pillows. arm still draped over you.

you could tell the man was in heat. he was always so obvious with it. the way he would get al obsessed with you. and trust me he’s always obsessed with you. there was no doubt in your mind that he loved you. but there was somthing different about the way he yearned for you.

he was truly irresistible though.

“baby?” you tapped him on the shoulder to look up at you. his face was all flushed and his hair was ragged. fuck. he was perfect.

“hmm?” he mumbled, all drawn out. the next words that were going to come out of you were going to be truly shocking to him.

“wanna fuck me and record it for when you go away?” the smile on your face was blinding as you watched his entire demeanor change.

“fuckk babe that was the sexiest thing you’ve ever said.” he said before instantly pulling out his phone. you stopped him short.

“mmhmh not yet baby… first.. lets get some inspiration.” taking his phone out of his hands. you unlocked it and went straight to the compilation of porn he had ‘hidden’ on his phone. you knew where it was a week into dating him. only just recently have you been sending eachother videos labeled ‘when r we trying this?’

excitement filled your gut. all of your body stood on end as you scrolled though his personal collection. all his kinks, all his thoughts and secrets on a screen.

some of the videos added were new. you hadn’t seen them before. like this one of a girl practically jumping up and down on her bfs dick. fuck. that shit was hot. “i imagined fuckin you like that… after work and i come home an ur al hot f’me.” he slurred like he was drunk. but he was just drunk off your pussy. not even close to touching you and he was al riled up like a dog in heat.

the next one was foul. a girl chained up to a chair as the man had his cock buried in her underwear. pinching her clit tight and smacking her ass. you didn’t know he watched stuff like this. especially since he was normally all vanilla with you. his voice rang out in your ears when he spoke. “i’m sorry darling that one…. isn’t like me. i just can’t get it out of my head though… my pretty girl all tied up to my desk in my office… fuckkk. god let me touch you.” the way he rambled on you knew he was way past his limit.

you went to set his phone down but he cut you off. “no. keep watching. i’m gonna play with you and your gonna keep watching porn. got that?” you gasped at how demanding he was. he really truly normally wasn’t like this. it was.. hot.

“okay…” you said, hesitant.

you scrolled as he kissed and licked all your open skin. taking his sweet his taking off your undergarments. when you were fully naked he spent several seconds just staring at you before touching you. your wettness pooled as he then spread your legs. looking the most eager he ever has he licked your pussy. smacking on your clit and tounge fucking you.

“keep watching my phone baby.” he said into your sloppy cunt. brining two fingers to your hole, before putting them in.

it was hard to concentrate on the, man 69 his girl. when nanami was groaning under you. just from your taste. you forcefully pried your eyes back onto the screen.

you gasped when you came across a video so unholy you tightened around his fingers. “fuck me like this! please an- and record it! pleasee babe…” you held up the video to him, a girl getting so pounded her face was pushed into the couch.

he groaned under you. “fuck babe… i have dreamt of doing that to you. fuckin ur pussy al raw…” he mumbled to himself before pulling you into a missionary position. it was more intimate. you didn’t mind. but you wanted to be fucked tonight.

he pulled out his phone, his demeanor changed. suddenly, a fire filled his eyes. slapping his stop on your clit. he recorded everything. your face, your body, your wet fucking cunt. god. you needed him.

“please… i need ur cock…” you were suddenly camera shy. you didn’t know how to act anymore.

“want it so fuckin bad…?” he mumbled before shoving himself balls deep into you. the movement was harsh. your back arched into him. he was girthy. sometimes he was too much. you screamed out. not looking at the camera.

“…look at me baby..” he mumbled, phone in hand pounding into you. you let your head fall back.

“when i say look at the camera..” his voice was sharper, before he laid a soft little slap on your spred pussy. “- u fuckin look at the camera.” that movement awoke somthing in you.

“fuck na-! harder. slap me harder.” you moaned out. as if he wasn’t already balls deep in your sopping cunt.. he pounded you at rapid speed now.

almost like that angle wasn’t enough, he turned out over onto your face, ass up, like the girl in the video.

“fuck me! nanami~ fuck i’m gonna miss your fat cock…!” you moaned out to him. the words went straight to his cock and he fucked you like it.

his pace changed rapidly, grabbing into on of your arms with his free hand, he propped the camera up with the other. getting a clear view of you taking his cock like his little doll. you watched in the phones reflection of you getting pounded. your wet pussy getting torn apart.

it was all overwhelming you came on his cock without recognizing. the pressure was too great. it was too much. you were approaching your second orgasm. you went to warn him but no words came out of your mouth. just moans and gasps. plowing for your second orgasm, the way your tight pussy clenched on his fat fucking cock made him burie his load deep in your cunt. his liquid filled u up to the brim. almost too fucked out to hear his ple’s behind you.

“god y’ur so fuckin perfect.. this pussy- all mine. fuck yes all mine…” he mumbled over and over.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

ukai ver. soon…

[aliosne]

One of my mother’s better Parenting Moments was when my older sister started stealing food. Not ideal behaviour at the best of times, but we were poor, and meals were strictly allotted, so eating food in a neurotic rush now meant it wasn’t there later. My mother mostly fell into the former camp for a variety of reasons, but somehow, this time she did different. She sat my sister down and they drew a contract.

The contract consisted only of “If you are hungry, you can ask me for a snack. I will say yes.” They both signed it. My sister stopped stealing food.

Quote unquote “bad behaviour,” particularly sneaky behaviour, is often about lack of trust. It is the adult’s responsibility to establish and uphold that trustworthiness.

If a child is anxiety-prone or HAS been abused, a lack of trust can also mean not knowing what will happen if they ever do something really bad. I know it’s a cloud that hung over my childhood, and I’m so glad OP’s parents found another way.

I love contracts. I think kids, with their pronounced sense of fairness, love contracts. I use them in my dealings with children today. 4yo and I have a contract that if something is safe for him to do (a kid job, not a grownup job), I will let him do it.

Bringing it back around, I think that’s something adults struggle with. I was talking with my family yesterday about how much covid has eroded my trust in people, in their investment in taking care of each other, in their willingness to suffer minor inconvenience to keep themselves safe, never mind others. A lot of us are dealing with similar lack of trust, whether or not their ideology and concerns align with mine. And so many of us are facing down states that are like abusive parents. If we do something really bad, or even something PERCEIVED as really bad, well. We know exactly what could happen to us.

Some of this is part of growing up. The world is not arranged to keep you safe, and bad shit can and does happen. But maybe it should be safer, more trustworthy. And there’s stuff we can do on a political level to encourage that, but it also starts with showing those most in our power that there can be a different way.

I am exceptionally lucky in that my parents never hit me, grounded me, confiscated my things, banned me from my hobbies or threatened any of these actions to make me behave as a kid. as an adult it has made me realise how very very long a road most people have to traverse before they can take a statement like 'no rule that must be enforced by threat is legitimate' seriously.

[cod-indulgences]

Simon Riley x female!reader, neighbor!Simon, cheating, revenge fucking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral, fingering

Your boyfriend was a jerk. Your ex boyfriend, now, since you'd found him balls deep in your best friend in your bed. The bed you'd paid for, supporting him while he worked to "network" and "make connections."

You hadn't even said anything, just shut the door on them and left. Now you were sobbing in the stairwell, feeling like a loser, stupid, how did you not see it? How did this slip past you?

A big, black-gloved hand dangles in front of you, a white handkerchief waving. You take it and sniffle.

The owner of the hand and handkerchief sits next to you. Your neighbor, mostly glimpsed as he rounded a corner, the edge of his huge shoulders blocking the light through a doorway for a moment as he left. You'd joked about him being the apartment cryptid.

Right now he's realer than anything else, a silent black shadow in jeans, hoodie, balaclava. You blow your nose. Gross.

He tilts toward you a little, and you answer, "my boyfriend. And best friend." He nods, and leans in, letting you rest your head against his shoulder. You sniffle. "I just- I should have seen it, she's always wanted what she can't have, he's never happy with me, I just..." A couple more tears leak down your cheeks. "I feel so stupid. And so angry, about feeling stupid! He's cheating! I shouldn't feel bad!"

Cryptid neighbor is silent still, but not like he's bored. He's just thinking it over, and you have time to blow your nose again and wipe your eyes before he speaks.

"They're at your place now?"

"mmhm. Fucking in my bed."

"Pretty girls shouldn't cry over guys like that," he offers, and you gape at him. Worn out work scrubs and face all mottled and swollen, he's calling you pretty? He's just seen you blow snot into his handkerchief, twice.

He looks down at you, dark brown eyes under pale lashes, the end of a scar visible through the eye-slit of the balaclava. The skull print is old and faded, soft, like he's on vacation from whatever scary job keeps him gone for weeks.

"Want to get revenge?"

".....sure."

-

He's got you folded in half, knees to your chest, and his cock is so big and hard, so deep in your belly, that you're losing your mind. You've never been fucked like this, never come on someone's hands and tongue so easily.

You make sure to be as loud as possible telling him how good it is, how big his cock is, stretching out your pussy until it'll never get back. You'll be gaping open for him, pussy drooling, begging for him to come back and let you keep him warm. You'd do anything for another chance at this cock and the man attached to it.

He'd made you ride his face first- made you, held you down with those huge hands and mask shoved up to his nose, kept your pussy on his mouth until you sobbed and begged for a break, and then he'd rolled you off and shoved two fingers into your pussy. Thick fingers, a thumb merciless on your clit, already sucked hard and throbbing, you came in seconds. That was the third orgasm.

A fourth, on three fingers, aching when he stretched you open, finding your g-spot and hammering it until you sobbed and squirted down his wrist. He'd fucking licked his hand clean, and you'd moaned at the sight, thighs open and your body thrumming with pleasure.

And now, knees up in what you knew was called the mating press, rearranging your guts and making you scream. Fuck, so fucking good, deep and heavy, his cockhead bouncing off your cervix as he bottoms out. Your mind is a liquid mess, you don't even need him to touch your clit, you're just coming for him over and over, waves of it crashing through you.

He pulls out and puts you on your belly, lifts your ass up to fuck back into you, and spanks you, making your ass cheek bounce. You clamp down and squirt a little again, and he goes again, fucking into you and spanking you on each thrust, slick and precome dripping on the bed, that's banging so hard against the wall the windows rattle.

You're still louder.

"Fuck, fuck please, please yes aaah, fuck! So good, so fucking, Simon, Simon please, again- ah! Again! More, again, don't stop, God please don't stop, I'm coming, coming, Simon fuuuuu k~!!" Your tongue hangs out, drooling, limp as you're fucked blind into the mattress. Each spank lights you up and sends you over, so oversensitive it's a continuous wave, and when he finally, fucking finally, groans and grinds deep into you, pouring hot come into your belly, you quiver and melt down, overcooked, blown out. You're vaguely aware of Simon moving you to lie on your side, cradled against him, a soft cloth wiping off your thighs. Gentle hands sooth the heat on your ass, caressing up and down your back, and you feel him kiss your forehead through the mask, softly.

It's the most special, most treasured you'd never felt with your boyfriend, and you wrap your noodly arms around him and cuddle close.

He rumbles in your ear, "Think we got the message across?"

You consider the way the wall is dented and how your screaming left your throat hoarse. How the apartment layouts mean Simon's room is directly opposite yours, with a shared wall, too thin for what you pay in rent.

".....not sure. Might have to try again in the morning."

-

You do try again in the morning, actually- you had no idea you could be so loud with a cock down your throat, but then Simon is a very determined person, just like you.

[r-aindr0p]

From starved and stressed to satiated and (a bit less) stressed, yippee ! He will nap for the whole next week

Thought about having the wrist held out for Idia at first but when you think about it if anything bites into your wrist it will fuck up all the tendons more likely than biting in the biceps (a bite must hurt as hell either way though, I remember once getting a volleyball hit right on the inner wrists right below the hands and it felt so painful already)

Part 1 - Part 2

[covenofagatha]

Four times Agatha fails at cockwarming (and one time she doesn't)

The Third Attempt

Based on the third part of this brainworm

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: g!p Agatha, cockwarming, breeding kink, spanking, jealousy, bratty!reader, light degradation, mommy kink

When Agatha comes downstairs in the morning the next weekend, wearing a purple crewneck and gray sweatpants with loose hair, you’re already awake and doing yoga in the living room in nothing but a bra and underwear. 

She takes one look at you and snorts, already in tune with the game you’re trying to play. “What happened to wearing clothes while working out?” 

You shoot her an impish wink from a tree pose. “Didn’t you hear, mommy? Clothes are so restrictive, especially for yoga. You want to have a full range of motion so you can bend any way you want.” Your voice drops suggestively low and she squints and nods like you’re making perfect sense. 

“Of course, why didn’t I think of that?” 

Shrugging, you put your foot down and shake out your aching limbs. You haven’t done yoga in months, but you just felt in the mood for something different. Absolutely no ulterior motives whatsoever. “I would’ve done it completely naked, but that would’ve been indecent.” 

Agatha actually laughs. “You—indecent? Never, honey.” You blow her a kiss as you assume warrior pose and she walks into the kitchen and you hear her pouring herself a cup of coffee. 

She walks back in and takes a seat on the couch, slurping from her mug and watching you with scrutinizing eyes. 

“Want to join?” you ask, a little out of breath when you finally sit down and bend your knees, pushing the soles of your feet together in the butterfly pose. Coincidentally, also giving her a perfect view of the already-wet gusset of your underwear. Even the mere sight of her is enough to get you turned on.

Agatha shifts on the couch before shaking her head. “I’m good to just watch.” 

You smirk and lay on your back, legs bent in the air, and you grip your ankles in the happy baby pose. She chokes on her coffee. “Babe, can you help me for a second? I think I need to get into more of a stretch.” 

“It looks good to me,” she says, voice taut, and you have to bite on your lip to stop from laughing before fixing your face into a pleading look. 

“Please? I can barely feel anything. And if I can’t feel it, that means I’m not going to make any progress,” you pout. She raises an eyebrow. You both know you’re not trying to progress to anything in yoga and you’re just trying to tease her. 

Because even after Agatha fucking you every single day this past week, you’re still insatiable and your need to be a brat will always prevail. 

So she sighs and slinks off the couch, crawling over to you on her knees and putting her hands on the underside of your thighs, keeping her body a safe difference from yours. “Is this okay?” she murmurs and gently pushes your legs up more. You notice the pointed effort she’s making to not look down at your covered cunt that is positioned right toward her face. 

“I think I need to have a deeper stretch,” you say and yank her closer by the collar of her crewneck. Her hands let go of your legs in surprise and catch herself on the floor, her face above yours and her bulge now positioned right against your pussy. She sucks in air quickly and moves to pull away, but you lock your legs around her back, crossing your ankles. “There we go.” 

“I somehow doubt this is proper form,” she rasps, her gaze darting from your eyes to your lips and then back up. 

You raise your hips gently and smirk. “What do you mean? Doesn’t it feel good, mommy? This is what yoga’s all about.” 

Her jaw clenches and her cock twitches against you. “Oh, yeah? Yoga’s all about being a needy slut?” You gasp, heat tearing through you, and you grind up again before nodding with a grin. 

“Exactly.” You peck her lips with yours. “Now it’s time for child’s pose.” You push her off you and she clears her throat before giving her cock a quick stroke through her sweats. You turn over onto your hands and knees, giving her a perfect view of your ass. She sharply inhales and you smirk to yourself before sitting back on your heels and extending your arms out. 

It does actually feel really good and you can’t help but wonder how it would feel for Agatha to fuck you like this. You might not have to wait long to find out, judging by how easily affected she is. 

“Agatha, can you?” you prompt and she tentatively reaches out to cup your asscheeks with both hands and rock you forward. Her labored breathing echoes through the room. “Not like that. Like, lay on me. It’s the only way you’re really going to be able to help.”

She grumbles something unintelligible, probably about how full of it you are, before you hear her scooch forward and then her weight drapes on top of you. Her loose hair spills down and tickles your cheek and her cock is pushed into the cleft of your ass. You sway your hips from side to side, enjoying the whimper in your ear.  

Then you clench your cunt around nothing and she moans—heat spreads through you and pools in your underwear because you didn’t think she’d actually be able to feel it. 

“Mommy,” you admonish, just because you want to push her further, “I’m just trying to get a good workout in and you’re trying to distract me by pressing your hard cock against me like that. Now who’s the indecent one?”

You can practically hear her roll her eyes before she growls, “How many times do I have to fuck you speechless before you learn to stop being bratty?” 

Chuckling, you rise back to your hands and knees, moving Agatha with you as well, and you feel her cock throb. “Time for cat-cows.” 

Before she can ask what that is, you arch your back and look up to the ceiling, pause for a quick breath, and then round your back out, tuck your chin inwards, and look towards your belly button. You repeat the motion over and over, essentially twerking your cunt against her throbbing cock until she grabs onto your hips with a steel-like grip. 

“I think you’ve got it from here,” she gasps, pats your ass, and then stands back up. You turn over so you’re sitting on the mat and you watch her limp back over to the couch before starting to look for something. 

Your brows furrow as she digs through the pillows before she whirls around to you. Her cock is prominent through her gray pants and you can actually see the outlines of the veins because of how hard she’s straining. Your mouth waters—you want her cock in your mouth right now.

“Have you seen my phone?” Agatha asks, breaking you out of your horny stupor. You shake your head. You’re not even sure you saw her bring it downstairs. “Can you call it?” 

Grabbing your phone off the coffee table, you hold down the side button and make eye contact with her, a wicked grin on your face. “Call mommy,” you say. 

She scoffs. “Yeah, right, that’s not my contact. You have a job, what if I called—” 

“Calling mommy,” Siri says and then there’s a ringing noise from the kitchen. You wink smugly at her stunned face. Obviously you have to be very careful when checking your phone at work and you’ve definitely come close to an embarrassing moment a few times, but this was so worth it. 

Agatha swallows before going to get her phone and when she comes back, she’s scrolling on it with a frown. 

“Everything okay?” you ask, still on your spot on the ground. 

She purses her lips and looks up to you. “You know that annual teacher thing we do?” You nod. Each year, the school Agatha works at does a gala for all the staff—super fancy, great food, even an auction. You’ve gone to the last three of them with her and you always have a fun time for the most part. “I completely forgot it’s tomorrow afternoon. You don’t have to come if you’re busy or working or doing more yoga.” 

You laugh sarcastically before standing up and wrapping your arms around your middle and pushing your tits up and together so she gulps. “Will Rio be there?” you ask cautiously and she gives you a stern look. 

Rio Vidal is the Biology teacher and you are absolutely convinced she has a crush on your wife. Every gala you’ve been to, Rio has found a way to steal Agatha away from you for at least half an hour and you see the way Rio looks at her. 

“Yes, Rio will be there,” Agatha sighs. “And for the last time—” 

“What about Wanda?” you interrupt and Agatha’s gaze narrows. Two can play this game and you know exactly the right buttons to push. “You know, the English teacher, the one with the red hair and the green eyes who always wears the most beautiful outfits?” 

She nods curtly. “Why do you care if she’ll be there?” 

You shrug with a simper and slowly start to sashay over to where she’s standing before perching on the edge of the couch. She arches her brow and you can see the heat in her eyes. “She’s really nice and always keeps me company when you run off with Rio, leaving me all lonely.” 

Agatha’s nose flares and the vein in her head twitches. “You need to be careful,” she seethes. 

“Or what, mommy? Going to punish me?” You pout mockingly, knowing you have her right where you want her. “Remember what happened the last two times you tried to cockwarm me? I bet if Wanda had a cock, she wouldn’t blow her load before she even got inside me.” 

Her growl is animalistic and you think you may have crossed a line before she grabs onto your wrists, pulls you up, and then spins you around and bends you over the side of the couch. “You are such a brat,” she says and roughly spanks you, making you moan loudly. 

“Fuck, mommy.” 

She slaps your ass again and your hips jerk forward against the couch, your clit pulsing. “Tell me who you belong to,” she demands and you shake your head. You want her to make you say it. 

Agatha chuckles dangerously before tracing two fingers up your clothed slit and pushing the soaked fabric into you. You groan and arch your back for just a bit more stimulation. 

But then she spanks you again and you jump. “First, you rub yourself all over me while you’re doing yoga like a slut. And then you try to make me jealous? God, you’re really just asking for it, aren’t you, honey?” 

You look over your shoulder at her and bite your lip with big, doe eyes: the picture of innocence. “Asking for what?” 

She scoffs and runs her tongue against her bottom lip before spanking both asscheeks simultaneously. “Who do you belong to?” Your head drops down with a groan. 

“Please, mommy, I need you,” you whine. Another spank. Your cunt is throbbing right now, absolutely aching for her cock. “I need you to fuck me so bad right now.” 

Agatha soothes your raw skin. “I know, honey. I’ll give you what you want if you just tell me. Or else, I’ll just have to get creative.” 

The promise makes you perk up. Your wife loves to get creative—and it can either be heaven or hell for you. The time she made you ride her while holding a vibrator to your clit until you squirted all over her was one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had. Making you wear a vibrator and edging you over ten times in public and then not letting you cum until the next day was tortuous. 

“Creative, how?” you ask and she spanks you even rougher than the ones before, making you yelp. Heat has flushed through you and your breathing is heavy—you know you won’t last long no matter what she does. 

She hums, rubbing your ass while thinking about it. “Maybe I’ll just tie you to the bed and not touch you for the rest of the day.”

“Why don’t you show me that you can cockwarm me?” you suggest, voice thick with desire. You would do anything to get her inside your empty pussy right now. She spanks you one last time before grabbing you by the scruff of your neck and pulling you up. 

“Tell me who you belong to and I will,” she says lowly and you don’t have it in you to resist anymore. 

“I’m yours, mommy, I’m all yours—please, I need you so bad,” you pant and she nods in satisfaction before ordering you to get upstairs. Your panties cling to you with every step that you take and her footsteps echo behind you all the way to your bedroom. 

You sit on the edge of the bed, chewing on your bottom lip, while Agatha strips off her crewneck, sweatpants, and boxers. Her cock is, no surprise, pointing right at you, hard, red, and leaking precum onto the floor. She gives herself a quick stroke and then freezes—you think she might lose it right then and there, but she doesn’t. You let out a breath of relief. It would’ve been slightly disappointing to have her not even get inside you again. 

There’s something about the pressure of cockwarming that really gets to her. Every other time she has no problem fucking you. 

Or maybe it’s because of the incessant teasing you give her that has consistently been proceeding it. 

“Mommy,” you whine and she snorts before stalking over to you. Agatha stands over you and cups your cheek gently before roughly shoving two fingers into your mouth. You gag around them and she begins to fuck your mouth, her cock twitching and weeping onto your legs. 

She pulls out and smears your saliva all over your face before climbing onto the bed and sitting next to you. She nods and you straddle her, your covered cunt finally against her bare cock and you moan at the heat radiating from it. 

Agatha’s arms wrap around your back to unclasp your bra and then she slides it down your arms and throws it somewhere in the room. She reaches down to move your underwear to the side and slides her fingers through your wet folds and she tosses her head back when your wetness drips onto her cock. 

She rubs your clit but you’re done waiting—you push her down so her back is on the bed and then position your entrance at the tip of her cock before sheathing her inside you in one motion. You say a silent prayer that she doesn’t cum. 

You both groan and your eyes close, her cock filling you deliciously. Agatha bucks beneath you, but she doesn’t lose control. 

“I’m impressed,” you tease and she thrusts sharply into you before she realizes that it only makes it harder for her too. The stretch is satiating the ache, but you need so much more, so you begin to rock back and forth slowly. 

Agatha’s hands shoot out and grab your waist, stilling you. “This is your punishment,” she grits out. “Don’t move.” You pout but obey, the hunger in your cunt coming back with a vengeance. She’s so deep inside you, the tip of her cock resting against your g-spot, and tears prick your eyes with how it feels. 

So it’s really not your fault when you can’t help but start to rut occasionally and she whimpers, nails digging into your skin. Her face has turned red, her mouth is open and panting, her eyes are dark and pleading. 

“Mommy,” you say slowly and she whimpers. As hard as this is for you, it looks like it’s even worse for her. “Please? Can you please fuck me?” 

She shakes her head with a muffled, pained grunt. “Not until you learn your lesson.” 

If the lesson is that your wife is less composed than a horny teenager when it comes to you and your cunt, you think it’s safe to say that you’ve learned it. She’s going crazy right now—and all you have to do is turn the tables a little. 

“I’m yours, mommy,” you say breathlessly and start to grind. Her eyes go wide and you coax your own nipples to hardness with your fingers. She instinctively thrusts up into you and you moan loudly. Her hair is sprawled out beneath her and she looks like she might cry. “These tits? All yours.” You slide a hand up to trace your lips and then suck on two fingers like she made you do earlier. “This mouth? All yours.” 

The muscles in her neck are taut and she’s making even more sounds, especially when you clench around her cock to accentuate your words. 

You reach between your bodies and rub your clit. “This cunt? All yours.” You make sure to press your wet fingers against her cock as you roll your hips and she bucks again. 

“Honey, honey, please,” Agatha begs, a slight sheen of sweat breaking out on her chest, “you need to stop. Stop moving. Please, I can’t—” 

You brush your hand against her nipple and she cuts herself off with a loud groan. “Come on, mommy. It’s okay. You can just give in and fuck me.” 

She shakes her head and screws her eyes shut tightly when you lift yourself up and then drop down on her cock. “Honey,” she pleads quietly and she throbs inside you. 

Leaning down, you start to pepper kisses along her collarbone and chest. “I know you need to fill me up, right? You need to breed me?” 

Agatha whimpers like she’s been wounded and her cock twitches violently. You slowly inch up, feeling her veins drag against every ridge inside you and then you drop down fast and she keens, her back arching off the bed. You’re still very impressed that she hasn’t cum yet and you’re getting close as well. 

“Baby, please,” she whispers, hands grappling at your waist to try and hold you still again, but it’s weak and you keep steadily riding her, “this isn’t even cockwarming.” 

You muse on that and then stop, opting to just clench around her and she groans. Both of you know that you don’t need to be moving to make her cum. You swirl your tongue around her nipple and tug on it with your teeth and she squirms and breathes louder. “I need you to fill me up, mommy,” you whine and she sobs before bucking up just once. “I need you to breed me. Need you to breed my hot, wet cunt that’s all yours. It was made for you, mommy—I was made for you.” 

“Oh, fuck—honey, fuck,” she babbles and her cock swells. A thrill runs through you and you clench involuntarily. “Gonna breed you, mommy’s gonna fill you up, you’re gonna be so full of me.”

Tension builds in your lower back and you decide to give her what she needs. “Cum for me, mommy,” you say hoarsely, rocking your hips and scraping your teeth against her breast and her cock throbs before she lets out a long, guttural cry of relief and you feel her hot seed paint your walls white. 

She flips you onto your back so she’s on top and starts thrusting wildly into you through her orgasm, finding your clit and rubbing it while she sucks on your nipple, and you can feel her cum being pumped into you and then leaking out. 

“Fuck, mommy,” you whine and she’s getting softer but she doesn’t stop until you cum too, adding to the mix of fluids seeping out of your cunt and onto the bed. 

Agatha collapses on top of you, pressing kisses to your sweaty forehead and then she finds your mouth and she tugs on your bottom lip. Your limbs are entangled and both of you are sticky now, but you lay like that for a few minutes, just soaking each other in until she finally sits up and pulls out of you. There’s a gush of cum from your pussy and you weakly hump up against nothing when you watch Agatha’s cock twitch. 

“Little Aggie did such a great job making it that long,” you mumble, still slightly delirious from your intense orgasm. 

Your wife chokes and looks down, flabbergasted. “What did you just call my cock?” 

You giggle. “You don’t like it? I think it’s cute.”  

“Little Aggie? She’s not even little,” Agatha scoffs. “And I’d like to point out that if you had actually cockwarmed me correctly instead of moving around and talking, I would’ve lasted even longer.” 

“Pfft,” you wave dismissively. “Please, you never stood a chance, you can’t blame that on me. Not my fault you’re too desperate for me.” 

She leans in to kiss you, long and slow. “It’s all your fault.” 

“You know what?” you ask, breaking away and resting your forehead against hers. “I think I’ll take full responsibility for that. And don’t worry about failing again. There’s always next time.” 

Taglist: @lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @n3bula-cats @m1vfs @agathascoven1 @loneliestafterparty

[peterhollandkait]

I-

An Unexpected Discovery

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: Benny Miller x f!reader

Warnings: Established relationship, panty kink, sending lewd photos while at work, piv sex

Summary: A joke turns into a new discovery.

Word count: 2.6k

Author’s Note: Thank you so so much to @green-socks for talking me through the entire process while I wrote this, and for supporting my Benny Miller obsession. Sam is the absolute best and also beta’d this for me. Also huge thanks to @wyn-n-tonic​ who gave me the idea of how their “discovery” came to fruition.

The morning sunlight pours through your blinds, illuminating the empty spot on the bed, still warm from Benny’s body heat. He’s rifling through his overnight bag, bent over with his bare ass in the air, mumbling to himself.

“You having trouble over there, honey?” 

Benny straightens up and turns around, hand on his hip.

“I forgot to bring underwear,” he huffs, clearly frustrated with himself.

“Why don’t you just borrow a pair of mine?” you quip.

Keep reading

[okwonyo]

THE COCKROACH──── ୨୧ 성훈𓈒

✶ 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝑜𝑛𝑒⠀ㅤ𓈒⠀ 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝖻𝗈𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝗂𝖼𝖾. 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗇𝗂𝖼𝖾.

neighbor!sunghoon & fem!rea 1OOO potential future relationship ㅇㅅㅇ skinship ⎯⎯ recue𝒾l

嘉 ܃ this is so silly and this isn’t my best work but .. i like it 🎀

reblogs ♡ feedbacks please + daily

being overdramatic has never been one of your characteristics. despite what some of your friends say, you think that you are rather rational when it comes to your emotions as well as the way you manage them.

you know how to control your fear especially. you swear, you are not the kind to get scared of the smallest things. fear doesn’t take over you easily at all.

however, if there was something that you could admit, it would be your dislike for certain creatures and your blood’s tendency to go cold at the sight of them.

it isn’t your fault, whenever you see one of those barely noticeable insects with multiple legs and arms, you can’t restrain disgust to get to you. and yes, seeing one of them always makes you scream at the top of your lungs. today is no different.

that scream is loud enough to make your throat hurt a tad. it keeps on getting worse the longer you look at the cockroach in front of you. when it moves on your not-so-brand-new apartment’s floor, you run out of your own home.

perhaps, you aren’t thinking straight or perhaps, it’s just the way you are— but you find yourself jumping in the arms of the first person you encounter, without taking a look at their face first.

your entire weight landing onto them without any warning doesn’t make them stumble, therefore you assume they are muscular.

under your fingertips, you feel their muscles, their broad shoulders are comfortable enough for your arm wrapped around them. it must be a man, you can tell at that.

as well as by his deep voice when he asks, “what’s going on?”

it is as if you are at a higher altitude than you were when you stand on your couch earlier. he is well built and tall, which is impressive. but it is not your main concern.

“i’m sorry, it’s just that—” you start, a little out of breath. you want to continue, but you turn your head towards the man and your breath catches. half of your voice dies in your chest, “there is a cockroach in my apartment.”

the man who lives in the apartment in front of yours looks right back at you. you observed him often since you moved in a few weeks ago, but you never caught his name.

it’s the first time you see him out of his work suit, including the first time you see him without the black tank top he wears at the gym. his long hair is quite messy, he isn’t wearing his glasses. on top of everything, he doesn't look bothered by your position in the slightest.

“do you need any help?” the handsome man offers. funnily enough, you are confused about what he is talking about.

however, he is too beautiful for you to refuse, “uh, yeah.”

your neighbor manages to make you stand back on the floor without you noticing. you are too absorbed in staring at him to see anything else. your eyes follow him while he gets into your apartment.

from behind him, you can see how broad his shoulders actually are, bigger than you thought they were, wider than when you see them from afar while you work out. he is even taller than you thought, taller than when you watch him get into the elevator on his way home.

you follow him like it’s not where you live, standing behind him and peeking at the paper cup that you used as jail for the ugly insect.

his big figure protects you so you feel safe enough to say, “it’s in that paper cup.”

the said paper cup moves slightly and you gasp. at the sound you let out, the man’s arm raises slightly beside him in a protective gesture.

“stay behind me,” he tone is soft as he starts speaking again. “i’ll take care of it.”

you don’t know him at all. yet, seeing him walking towards the spray on the table next to the trapped cockroach makes you understand what a wife feels when she sees her husband leaving for war.

attractiveness lays in his moves, how he rolls up his sleeves, how he squats down almost nonchalantly, how he sprays the cockroach in the paper cup. everything he does makes your heartbeats go faster.

you spend most of your time admiring the beauty in front of you than anything else. your gaze lingers on his exposed forearms, on his side profile, on his fingers. your heart burst in your chest when his voice reaches you:

with a reassuring and victorious grin, “i think it’s dead.”

you stare at him in pure admiration. with more admiration than when you see him lift seventy bench at the gym. “thank you so much, uh—”

your knight in shining armor begins to come back to you with his grin still plastered on his face. “sunghoon.”

“a–ah, right!” you say in an awkward laugh. “how can i repay you?”

sunghoon stops in the middle of his way back to you to put the spray on the tabe again, “there is no need,” he chuckles, in most beautiful way you have heard. “i didn’t do much.”

you want to protest but he gets well too close for you to think straight.

“it’s going to take a while before it dies properly, though,” he continues. “and you shouldn’t stay there. because of the toxic product you know?”

you didn’t know that. still, you nod at his words.

“so..” the tall man looks like he is waiting for you to understand something, where he is going. but you don’t— maybe it’s because of the said toxic product or the otherworldly guy in front of you.

he bites his lower lip when he realizes that you are still confused. he finishes his sentence with a huge smile that showcases all his teeth, fangs included.

“do you want to come to my apartment and wait?” it must be written all over your face, how you didn’t expect this outcome in the slightest. because his smile gets wider, “we’ll come back later to see if the cockroach is really dead.”

your stomach flutters, your tongue gets tangled. being so smooth and straight forward wasn’t what you expected him to be.

it’s hard but you manage to choke out, “s–sure.”

taglist open + net— @sgz-net

[withlovemark]

“how to make a girl cum?”

synopsis -> mark lee. 25 years old. too busy with his career. has only ever touched a girl once in his life and he’s not even sure it counts considering she didn’t cum and he lasted 7 seconds. all he knows is his hand and what he watches from porn. you’re absolutely tired of seeing your loser of a best friend, who’s supposed to be this hot sexy idol, fumble every girl he comes in contact with because of his fear of sexual acts…so you decide to help him out.

warnings: fingering, unprotected sex (reader is on the pill), praising kink if you squint

—

“how are things with belle?,” you ask mark! who is seated right next to you on the black couch in the middle of the practice room. the two of you alone in this room full of mirrors.

“oh dude, i ended things with her,” he says nonchalantly.

“what!? why? weren’t you just telling me last week how she was perfect?,”

“exactly! it was getting too serious, she touched my thigh and i was like okay, yeah, we’re done,”

“are you fucking kidding me? this again,” you sigh in disappointment. he practically begged you to introduce her to him and he just pulls away like he always does.

“uhhh yes this again,” he replies blatantly, rolling his eyes, “remember what happened last time with that other girl, she laughed at my face and told me it was disappointing that i didn’t live up to everyone’s expectations yet alone even make her cum,” he cringed at the words, that day vividly replaying in his mind like a reoccurring nightmare.

“it was your first time mark, cut yourself some slack, it happens!,” you reassure him for the millionth time.

“yeah, no, i’d rather die a virgin than go through that embarrassment ever again,” he scoffs and you almost can’t believe what you’re about to say but your best friend needed serious help.

“how about you do some practice?,”

he looks at you like you just said the most ridiculous thing ever, “and who exactly am i gonna practice on?”

“me,”

“what?!”

“me,” you repeat even louder.

“i-what?”

“me! mark,” he freezes on the spot, registering your words and for a second you’re afraid you broke him until he breaks the silence, “no.”

“and why the fuck not? do you think i’m ugly?,”

“what?! no dude, you’re fucking hot,” the comment going straight to your head, giving you a boost of confidence.

“so what’s stopping you?,”

“dude, c'mon, you’re literally my best friend!”

“so?,”

“best friends don’t touch each other,”

“sure but as your best friend i can’t keep seeing you sabotage potential relationships because of something as silly as this!,” you argue while he still looks at you like you were crazy.

“i promise i won't laugh at you and i promise you will at least know how to make a girl cum after this,” you continue, becoming more compelling with every second that passes.

mark sits there in silence, weighing out the pros and cons of this agreement…and well, he couldn’t think of any cons. plus, you’re the only person he trusts enough to do this with.

he sighs deeply, finally making up his mind, “when do we start?”

you smirk at his response, happy to hear him agree, “right now.”

“what!? no!,”

“but you just agreed!,”

“yeah but i gotta do research first,”

“you mean watch more porn??,” you roll your eyes, scoffing, “THIS is your research, it’s not gonna get better than actually experiencing it firsthand,” you make your point and mark can’t argue with that.

he does learn faster when he’s doing it himself.

“okay,” he nods slowly, trying to come to terms that this is happening now.

“okay,” you agreed, slowly inching the space in between you, “we’re in a practice room after all,” you smirk, whispering against his ear, sending goosebumps throughout mark’s body as he waits for you to take the lead, not quite sure if this is real or just a figment of his imagination.

you notice the way he froze, only indication that he was still in the room was the anxious bouncing of his leg, eyes staring straight at the floor, “relax, mark,” you say, placing your hand gently on his thigh. mark gulps, staring at your hand, still refusing to look at you.

“well, this just won't do,” you break the silence, grabbing his hand and pulling him across the room, making him sit on the floor – right in front of the mirror.

“wh-what?,” he sputters, looking up at your figure, still standing in front of him.

“now you have no choice but to look at me,” you tease, slowly removing your pants, leaving you in your panties before quickly taking your seat right in between mark’s legs, back rested against his body, facing the mirror ahead of you. this was as vulnerable for you as it was for him.

mark watches it all unfold in a blink of an eye, seeing you in your pink lacy underwear has got him salivating, the gravity of the situation settling in him…he was about to touch his very hot best friend.

“mark,” you call out to him, snapping him out of his daydream, his eyes following your voice, “yeah?,” he responds quietly, finding it hard to breathe. you give him a gentle smile, “is this okay?,” you ask, making yourself comfortable in the space between him. he responds in slow nods, the warmth from your body making it hard for him to think about anything else but you.

“good,” you part your legs for him, grabbing his hand and placing it on your clothed core, “touch me,” a light shocked expression appeared on his face due to your boldness before he obeyed, lightly rubbing his fingers against your panties.

“more pressure, mark,” he immediately follows your command, adding more pressure to his fingers as he slid them up and down the cotton barrier. you release a sigh of pleasure, feeling your arousal start to build up, watching mark through the mirror as he focuses on his fingers, eyebrow’s furrowing, making sure he’s rubbing you with the just the right amount of pressure.

it’s cute how determined he looks.

“don’t think too hard about it, you’re doing so well, can’t you feel how wet my panties are now?,” his cock twitching at your praise as your stained panties were starting to feel sticky against your cunt.

“take them off,” you demand. mark follows straight away, gently removing your panties off of you, leaving you completely bare, all for him.

“look in the mirror, mark,” you order and for the first time he finally makes eye contact with you through the glass, “look how wet i am for you,” you pout, your juices glistening under the lights.

mark can’t help but stare in awe, “dude, i-i did this?,” he says unsure, cheeks pink.

the nickname makes you frown, “do not call me dude when you’re about to have your fingers inside me,” you reprimand and he lets out a tiny apology before you grab his hand, placing it back on your cunt.

“now, show me what you know,”

marks fingers are back on you, rubbing you the way he did before, his fingers easily sliding up and down your slick folds, the friction making you whine under his touch. he takes that as a sign and without any warning, jams a finger in, immediately thrusting them in and out of you at an already brutal speed, making you hiss in pain.

“stop!,” you say, legs instinctively closing as he quickly pulls his fingers out, eyes wide, afraid.

“that did not feel good,” you give your feedback and he almost crashes out, the reminder of him being bad at this catching up to him, “b-but that's what they do in all the videos!” he sputters out, slightly panicking.

oh, how badly he needed your help.

“just take it slow mark, there’s no rush,” you smile softly, trying to comfort him, “here,” you grab his finger, controlling his speed as he slides down your core again, finger slowly disappearing inside you, following the curve of your pussy.

you let out a shaky breath at the slow intrusion, feeling your walls tighten around his digit. like this, you can feel how much longer his finger is compared to your own, reaching that spot so easily, “now curl it,” you instruct and he curls it perfectly on the first try, eliciting a moan from you, making his cock twitch.

“good boy,” you praise, boosting mark’s confidence as he curls his finger in the same spot again and again. you let go of his hand, letting him take over as he took note of every moan that spilled from your lips.

“i-is this good?,” he asks, adding another finger in and curling it just the way you like it.

“s-so good mark,” you whine under his touch, approving his action, “go faster now,” you say, hips arching up, needing more from him.

mark loves watching the way your body reacts to his hand and almost like his free hand had a mind of it’s own, it finds its way around your sensitive bud, rubbing slow but harsh circles, “ohhh fuuck,” you moan, head falling back to his shoulder as your hand gripped his thigh trying to ground yourself, the tension in your stomach tightening.

“yeah?, you like that baby?,” he whispers against your ear, the nickname sending tingles down your core, pussy clenching tightly around his fingers. mark doesn’t need to hear your answer with the way your body speaks to him, he takes note of all of it.

“s-say that again,” you gasp, fingers continuing to move inside you while the tingle in your stomach keeps growing and growing, mark’s newfound confidence becoming stronger and stronger with every moan you give him.

“gonna make my baby cum,” he grunts in your ear, more determined than ever to get a job done. you watch it all play out on the mirror in front of you — body trapped in his, mark’s fingers curling in and out of you, juices leaking onto his fingers, eyebrows slightly furrowed, light sweat dripping down his forehead, muscles clenching.

he’s so focused on you, and he looks fucking hot doing so.

you can’t help yourself, turning your head towards him and catching his lips in yours. mark halts his movement for a quick second before regaining his composure, kissing you back ferociously, tongue meeting yours, quickly taking the lead. he did not need any tips for this – mark was a good fucking kisser, great even.

his lips moving with yours heightens the rest of your senses, drowning out all the other noises and only focusing on the boy next to you. you feel everything — the circles around your clit, the curls of his finger, his rock hard cock against your back; making you feel lightheaded, heat traveling throughout your body as mark swallowed your moans with his kisses.

you only pull away when your release took over, “—gonna cum,” you barely warn him, head falling back to his shoulder, eyes rolling back, toes curling as you let out a strangled gasp, the mind bending orgasm making your body shake, mark coaxing you through it.

“made my baby cum on the first try,” he softly teases, leaving soft kisses on your temple as he watches you unravel through the mirror. your hips arched up as you leaned on him for support, eyes closed, lips flushed, looking absolutely fucked out and his own body can’t help but react to the scene, staining his sweats.

you try to calm your erratic breathing, eyes fluttering open to the scene of mark licking his fingers clean off your arousal, “how does it taste?,” you tease. his eyes darken at your question, looking right at you through the mirror, “so good baby…you taste so good,” he says before diving his fingers back to your cunt, making you jump, as he collected the remaining juices, bringing it back to his lips, humming in satisfaction, eye contact never breaking – the action turning you on more than ever.

“congrats, you just made a girl cum,” you smirk, turning around on your knees to face him.

he lets out a nervous chuckle, glancing at you with uncertainty. "be honest, how was it, really?" he asks, his voice tinged with anxiety and you can tell the burst of confidence he had earlier was gone.

“honestly,” you start, gaining his full attention, “soo good mark, you learn so quickly…you think you can make me do it again?,” you ask, doe eyes innocently looking up at his brown ones.

he nods furiously at your request, hands immediately going to your hips, getting ready to turn you around and have you back in the same position before you stop him.

“hmm, i was thinking, maybe you can make me cum on your cock?,” you ask and mark chokes on his own breath, glancing around the room, getting shy under your gaze.

“i-uhm, i already came in my pants,” he whispers, afraid to confess it out loud.

“that’s. so. hot.” you comment, hands finding its way to his thighs, as you observe the wet stain on his grey sweats, capturing mark’s attention.

“wait? really?”

“mhm, i think it’s really hot how much effect i have on you, cumming in your pants and i didn’t even have to touch you,” you tease, his pants feeling tighter and tighter, “what do you say, mark?, you want to cum again?,” you whisper, pouting your lips.

“fuck y/n,” he whines breathily, you had him wrapped around your fingers now, how could he ever say no?

he pulled you towards him, taking the lead and smashing his lips against yours, gently sucking, tongues battling for dominance. your hand wraps around his neck, fingers finding its way to his hair, gripping it gently. the action enough to harden his cock.

quickly you pull away, taking off your shirt, pink lacy bra coming into view matching your panties. mark takes a second to admire your body, warm hands squeezing your waist, before following suit, discarding his own clothes to the side, leaving him in his stained boxers, lips back on yours as you continue to explore each other’s mouths.

your hand travelled down his chest to his torso, lower and lower, slipping inside his boxers and wrapping around his cock, earning a moan from him. you take note of how long he is, the anticipation of him inside you making your pussy twitch, insides bubbling once again.

you pump him once, twice…his whines against your lips, making you clench around nothing but air.

“stop it baby, i'm not gonna last if you do that,” he pleads and you want so badly to just have your way with him, pumping him to finish as he withers in his moans but before you could do so, he pushes your hand away, creating space between you.

“stop, please…want to be inside you,” he cries, shutting his eyes, trying to calm himself down as he slows his breathing, holding you an arm length away. he feels like he’s gonna burst any minute now and he really doesn’t want to do that without making you cum a second time.

“okay, mark,” you follow his order, “you’re in charge, baby,” you give up control, waiting for mark to take the lead, as he inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying his best push away his orgasm. he slowly opens his eyes, all his breathing work practically useless at the sight of you.

“you’re so pretty,” he says before his hands wrapped around your hips, easily picking you up. you let out a quiet yelp at his sudden action. your best friend was a lot stronger than he looks.

he makes his way over to the couch, gently placing you down, body hovering over you as you push his boxers down, pink cock springing up, hitting his belly.

there was absolutely no going back from this.

“mark, do you have a condom?,”

“fuck,” he says looking at you wide eyed, “i-i dont have one,” he stutters, frustrated, tears brimming in the corner of his eyes at the thought of not being able to satisfy you.

“you don’t carry one around?,”

“dude, we’re literally in this situation because i don’t get any action,” he reminds you, earning a laugh from you – you almost forgot…especially with how good his touches felt against your skin.

“you’re laughing, i don’t have a condom and you’re laughing,” he says in disbelief, annoyed at himself, his frustration increasing every second your laugh reaches his ears, “hey, you promised you wouldn’t laugh,” he pouts, gently poking your sides, a small smile displayed on his lips.

“sorry, sorry, i-just, you should’ve seen your face, you look like you’re about to cry,” you point out, calming down, “i’m on the pill mark, its okay,” you soothe him, and mark’s jaw almost drops to the floor.

the last and first time he had “sex” with a girl, he came in the condom as soon as he bottomed in and now he expects himself to last more than 7 seconds with you? raw? he freezes once again and you notice the change in his demeanor.

“don’t be scared mark, we’ll take it at your pace,” you comfort him, turning his head towards you for a soft, gentle kiss – so much different from the rushed kisses you previously shared.

“hey, i'm your best friend, okay, you can trust me,” you remind him, giving him a small smile “it’s okay if you cum faster than me, you’ll know what to do if that happens,” you assure him, completely trusting him with your body and all his worries fade away.

mark finally snaps out of his overthinking mind, taking the lead once again, soft lips on yours as he gently pushes you down, back against the couch, body completely hovering over you.

he swipes his cock against your folds, collecting your juices, making you shiver in anticipation, before lining against your core, slowly pushing the tip in your hole, he breathes in — you feel so fucking warm. you moan at the invasion, walls expanding, adjusting to the size of his cock as he slowly pushed inside. synchronized moans filling up the air as he bottomed in, walls tightly clenching around him, sucking him in deeper and deeper you swear you can feel him in your cervix — feel every vein on his cock twitching.

“fuuck mark, you fit perfectly,” you whine, never have you had anything feel this good inside you and he hasn’t even moved. the comment makes him blush. he was gonna have to bring that up later…right now, he’s committed to redeeming himself and pleasing you.

he starts thrusting slowly, focused on your reaction, “hmmm, feels soo good mark,” you whine. he recalls the curl of his fingers inside you, making sure he angles his cock the same way, hitting you exactly where you need it. he finds it almost instantly, faster than any other guy has ever found it, “oh god, mark-fuck,” you jumble your words, too caught up with how he’s making you feel. the slowness of it all making it more intimate, each thrust properly hitting you deep inside, back arching at the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you, deep grunts right by your ear, hips meeting his.

“y-you’re so fucking tight baby mhm, making it so hard f-for me,” he whimpers, quickening his pace, the sound of clapping starting to echo throughout the walls, moans mixing in the air, the growing tension in your belly making you feel hot as you gripped his toned arm muscles.

“f-fuck mark, i-im close,” you gasped. your sensitivity from your previous orgasm quickly catching up to you, as he continued his thrusts, “m-me too baby,” he stutters, cock twitching inside you.

his fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing quick circles. “oh fuck! mark, mark, mark-,” you moan over and over again, forgetting every other word but his name.

he feels like he's going to explode. the amount of restraint he was holding on to to make sure you came before him is making him feel lightheaded — desperate.

“c’mon baby, c-come with me please,” he pleadingly whines, thrusts gaining more speed, your juices making it easier for him to slide in and out, toes curling at the sensation as you feel the heat rise, the coil in your stomach making you gasp for air.

you didn't have time to warn him before your walls immediately closed in on his cock, second orgasm completely taking over, body going slack, breathy moans slipping past your lips, eyes shut, the tension in your stomach coming undone.

mark’s movements falter on top of you, your release triggering his as he paint your walls white, “fuuuck baby,” he groans, head burrowed into your neck, breathing heavily, body shaking on top of yours.

mark slowly pulls out, making you hiss at the loss of contact. you watch, in amazement, as your mixed juices spill out of your throbbing cunt, pussy still pulsating.

“how was that?,” he asks earnestly awaiting your response and all you could do is shoot him a smile, “are you sure you’ve never done this before?,” you ask, making him chuckle in satisfaction.

“good?,” he wanted to hear it from you.

“very good, mark,” you nod in approval earning a smile from him as he got up to get his shirt, using the fabric to clean you up.

“you’re a really quick learner,” you praise him.

“or i just have a really good teacher,” he shrugs, refusing to take credit for the mess the two of you made.

“well, i barely had to tell you anything for that one, you really took notes earlier huh?” you point out, as he sat down next to you, “i guess so,” he says, a small smile on display.

“think you got it, now? won’t be sabotaging any potential relationships anymore?,” you tease, disheveling his hair, a playful smile on your lips.

“hmm,” he hums, pondering.

truthfully, he was proud of himself, he really was scared over nothing, or maybe…maybe it was because you were his partner? and that made everything different. he trusts you which made it easier for him to not get caught up in his own fears, the sound of your moans and praises pushing away all his anxieties, leading him to success.

he wants to hear it again.

mark smiles mischievously, bright eyes shining, before turning to you, grabbing your hips and pulling you on top of him, “i don’t know baby, i think i might need more practice,” he says cheekily, lips on yours once again as he unhooks your bra.

—

au: whew! well that’s that >.< genuinely….what do i need to do in life to make sure this happens to me and mark ?????????

[callmeizukunotdeku]

the absolute tomfoolery those two would commit if given access to media and a reason to annoy bruce is something i need to see more of

jason: bruce keeps fucking going into the bowery when i said he couldn't

tim: do you want me to log into his twitter and post about how he's hosting a gala in a week?

jason: i don't think increasing awareness for his next gala counts as revenge

tim: if i was advertising for his next gala, i'd say 'two months'; i want to see what he cooks up in a week

jason, with tears in his eyes: this is the kindest thing anyone's ever done for me

the lego batman movie reads like it was written by jason and tim mocking bruce and dick, like you can’t tell me the batjokes isnt there to piss bruce off, courtesy of tim, or the whole scaly panties thing isn’t jason making fun of the robin uniform

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Sideline Chemistry

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Sports Media!Reader

Fandom: UConn’s women’s basketball

Word Count: ~2.3k

Summary: As a sports media intern, having to interview Paige for a class project and games should be fun right, but she takes it as an opportunity to shamelessly flirt each time.

As far as internships went, I had a pretty good one. Covering UConn sports for SNY as a student journalist meant I got to attend games, interview players, and build a solid portfolio. But it also came with one huge downside—my current assignment.

Interview Paige Bueckers.

For most people, that wouldn’t be a problem. Paige was an easy-going interview subject, known for her charm and humor. But I wasn’t most people. I was also in her friend group, which meant I had to deal with that version of Paige—the one who lived to tease me, held eye contact for way too long, and always found a way to make me flustered.

I’d prepared a professional approach. Keep it short, ask good questions, and don’t let Paige’s antics get to me.

Too bad she had other plans.

By the time I arrived at the UConn practice gym, most of the team had already left. A few players were still getting shots up, but Paige was leaning against the scorer’s table, scrolling through her phone.

She looked up when she heard my footsteps, a slow smile spreading across her face.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite journalist,” she said, slipping her phone into her hoodie pocket.

I sighed, setting up my camera. “Don’t start, Paige.”

“What? I’m just stating facts.” She stepped closer, resting a hand on her hip. “I feel honored. You could’ve interviewed anyone, but you chose me.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to focus on adjusting my tripod. “I had to choose you. It’s an assignment.”

“Mm-hmm.” Paige rocked back on her heels, watching me work. “Admit it, though—you’re kinda excited.”

I huffed a laugh. “Yeah, totally. This is the highlight of my week.”

She smirked. “See? Told you.”

I shook my head, refusing to let her get under my skin. “Can you just stand over there so I can frame the shot?”

Paige moved to the designated spot, but instead of standing normally, she put her hands in her hoodie pockets and tilted her head, eyes locked on me.

“You’re staring,” I muttered, adjusting the camera settings.

“You look cute when you’re focused.”

My fingers fumbled over the buttons, nearly knocking the camera off its mount. Paige’s quiet laugh filled the space between us.

“Paige,” I warned.

“What?” she said, feigning innocence. “I’m just being supportive.”

I took a deep breath, trying to reset my brain. Focus. I hit record and lifted my notepad.

“Alright, let’s start. Name, year, position.”

Paige grinned. “You already know all that.”

“It’s for the recording, genius.”

She huffed dramatically but answered. “Paige Bueckers, red shirt senior, guard.”

I nodded. “So, this season’s been a big one for you. Coming back after injury, new team members, leading the team—what’s been the most rewarding part?”

Paige leaned forward slightly, resting her hands on her knees. “Honestly? Just being back on the court with my teammates. The rehab process was tough, but it made me appreciate the game even more. And, you know…” She flashed me a smirk. “It’s nice having my favorite reporter covering it all.”

I kept my expression neutral. “I’m sure you say that to every reporter.”

“Nah. Just you.”

I clenched my jaw, fighting back a smile. “Next question.”

Paige chuckled, clearly enjoying herself.

I went through a few more, mostly straightforward ones about team chemistry, goals for the season, and her personal growth as a player. And, to her credit, Paige answered them seriously—at least, until the end.

“Last question,” I said, scanning my notes. “What’s something people don’t know about you?”

Paige pretended to think. “Hmm. That I’m a great flirt.”

I blinked at her. “Paige.”

“What? It’s true.” She leaned back, giving me a slow once-over. “Want me to prove it?”

I pointed at the camera. “I will put this in the final cut.”

“Oh, please do,” she said, grinning. “Maybe it’ll finally get you to admit you like me.”

My breath caught in my throat. She wasn’t just playing around anymore—there was something different in the way she said it. Confident. Sure.

The air between us shifted.

I looked at her, really looked, and she met my gaze without hesitation. Her blue eyes held mine, steady and unyielding, a challenge wrapped in warmth.

I swallowed hard. “Paige—”

“Say the word,” she murmured, stepping closer. “And I’ll stop messing with you.”

The way she said it—low, teasing, but undeniably sincere—made my brain short-circuit.

A sharp whistle from the other end of the gym shattered the moment. I jolted back, turning off the camera.

“We’re done,” I said quickly.

Paige chuckled. “For now.”

I spent the next couple of days editing the interview, but no amount of technical work could erase the way Paige had looked at me. It didn’t help that our friend group noticed something was off when we met up for a post-practice dinner.

“You’re quiet,” Azzi noted, sipping her drink.

“Just tired,” I lied, stabbing at my fries.

Paige, sitting way too close beside me, leaned in. “Or you’re thinking about something. Or someone.”

I elbowed her. “Stop.”

Kk, sitting across from me, raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

Paige smirked. “She interviewed me. Got all flustered.”

I groaned. “I was not flustered.”

“Yeah?” Paige tilted her head, eyes gleaming. “So you didn’t almost drop your camera when I complimented you?”

Azzi grinned. “Oh, this is good.”

I shot Paige a glare. “You’re the worst.”

Paige just laughed, draping an arm over the back of my chair. “Nah. I’m your favorite.”

Kk snorted. “Yeah, this is definitely a thing.”

I covered my face with my hands. “Can we change the subject?”

“Fine,” Paige said, nudging my knee under the table. “For now.”

But as the night went on, she stayed close—casual touches, lingering looks, little comments only I could hear.

By the time I left, my heart was pounding.

A week later, my professor praised my interview, and my editor asked if I wanted to do a follow-up feature on Paige.

I hesitated.

Another interview meant more flirting. More of those looks. More of whatever was happening between us.

But before I could think too hard, Paige texted me.

Pb5🙄: So when’s our next interview? Gotta keep my favorite reporter happy.

I stared at my phone, exhaling.

Then, against my better judgment, I replied.

Me: Next home game. Try to behave this time.

Pb5🙄: No promises.

And somehow, I knew she meant it.

The next home game came so quickly, I wasn’t even mentally prepared.

So, when the first half of the game had been intense, UConn leading by only a few points against a tough opponent. Paige had been playing lights-out, and I knew she’d be the one pulled for the halftime interview.

I ran over my questions in my head, reminding myself to stay professional. But when Paige jogged over after the buzzer, sweat on her brow and a grin on her face, I knew I was in trouble.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she said, eyes glinting as she took her spot next to me.

I swallowed hard, forcing a neutral expression. Professional. Focus.

“Paige, great first half from you,” I started, keeping my voice steady. “What’s been working so well for you and the team so far?”

She wiped her forehead with her jersey before answering. “Honestly, just playing together, trusting each other. The energy is great out there.”

A solid, textbook answer. Good. Maybe she’d keep it normal.

I nodded, moving to my next question. “You’ve been on fire, leading the team with 15 points already. What’s your mindset going into the second half?”

Paige tilted her head slightly, her smile just a little too amused. “Stay aggressive. Keep making plays. And, you know—keep impressing my favorite reporter.”

My breath hitched.

I knew she was doing it just enough to be subtle—flirty, but professional enough to avoid getting in trouble. Still, my ears burned.

I cleared my throat. “Right. Well—uh—” I cursed myself for stumbling, but Paige’s smirk only grew.

She lifted an eyebrow, waiting. Daring me.

I quickly recovered. “What adjustments do you think the team needs to make in the second half?”

Paige took pity on me, answering normally. “Just tightening up on defense, getting stops, and taking smart shots. If we do that, we’ll close this game out strong.”

I nodded, feeling my pulse return to normal. “Thanks, Paige. Good luck in the second half.”

She leaned in slightly, voice lower but still audible on the mic. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

I barely held back a reaction as she jogged off, leaving me standing there like an idiot.

And then I heard the announcers laughing.

I turned my head slightly, realizing the game commentators had been watching the whole thing.

One of them chuckled, “I don’t know about you, but I think Paige might have a favorite reporter for real.”

The other commentator joined in. “She’s got the confidence on the court and off it. That was smooth.”

I wanted to die.

The interview wrapped, and the second half started, but my phone was already blowing up.

Fuzzy Fudd: No way you just let that happen on LIVE TV.

Hey Arnold: Paige Bueckers is NOT real.

Icey B: Not sweetheart on a broadcast—BE FR.

Kayla Wayla: girl. GIRL.

Me: you three shouldn’t even be on your phone rn, like listening to coach fudd about the two man pick n roll p and sar been doing all night.

I groaned, clicking send before stuffing my phone in my pocket. I am never living this down.

UConn won. Of course they did. Paige went on a scoring tear in the second half, finishing with 27 points, and the team dominated the fourth quarter.

By the time I finished post-game coverage, I was exhausted—and dreading seeing our friend group.

But Paige had other plans.

As I packed up my things, she walked over, still in her warmups, a towel draped over her shoulders. “Hey.”

I glanced up, wary. “Hey.”

She grinned. “So, since I was on my best behavior tonight—”

I shot her a look. “Best behavior?”

“Okay, decent behavior,” she corrected. “I think I deserve a reward.”

I sighed. “What do you want, Bueckers?”

Paige shifted closer, lowering her voice just enough that it sent a chill down my spine. “Go on a date with me.”

My brain short-circuited. “W-What?”

“You heard me,” she said smoothly, blue eyes locked onto mine. “A real date. No interviews, no sideline reports—just us.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

She smirked. “You thinking about saying no?”

I exhaled sharply, glaring at her. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you love it,” she shot back. “So? What do you say?”

I rolled my eyes, but my lips twitched. “Fine. One date.”

Paige grinned like she’d just won the national championship.

“Oh, and don’t think you’re off the hook for movie night tomorrow,” she added, nudging my arm. “Kayla said we’re doing a marathon, and you’re not skipping.”

I groaned. “Paige—”

“See you there, sweetheart.” She winked before jogging off, leaving me stunned for the second time that night.

I should have known I wouldn’t make it through the night without getting clowned for the halftime interview.

Kayla’s apartment was packed when I walked in. UConn’s entire women’s basketball team, plus a few extras like me, Sam and Kariny had claimed every available couch, bean bag, and blanket-covered floor space. The lights were dimmed, popcorn bowls were already half-empty, and The Lion King was paused on the screen.

But the second Paige walked in after me, all hell broke loose.

“Ohhh, look who finally decided to show up,” Ice called out, her smirk way too satisfied.

Caroline flexed dramatically from her seat on the floor. “UConn’s power couple has arrived!”

Azzi, the only one who usually kept it low-key, still shot me a knowing look. “I hope you’re ready for tonight.”

Paige just grinned, completely unbothered. I, however, was already regretting this.

We barely made it to an open spot on the floor before Ice turned to the TV. “Hold up, before we start, let’s go over tonight’s highlights.”

She grabbed her phone, tapped something, and suddenly, my own voice echoed through the dorm.

“Paige, great first half from you…”

I froze.

No. No, no, NO.

“ICE, I SWEAR TO GOD—”

“Oh no, let it play,” Paige interrupted, smirking.

The entire room erupted when we got to the part where Paige smoothly said, “Keep impressing my favorite reporter.”

Aubrey wheezed. Kayla facepalmed. Ice was on the floor.

KK pointed dramatically. “AIN’T NO WAY.”

I wanted to die.

“Okay, fun’s over,” I rushed, reaching for Ice’s phone, but Paige just casually leaned back, enjoying the chaos she created.

Azzi chuckled. “Nah, because the announcers even backed her up—‘I think Paige might have a favorite reporter for real.’”

Allie snorted. “THEY WERE ROOTING FOR HER.”

I groaned, sinking further into my spot on the floor. “This is actual harassment.”

Kayla nudged me. “It’s what you get for flirting on live TV and expecting us to ignore it.”

“I WASN’T FLIRTING.”

The entire room answered in unison: “YOU WERE FLIRTING.”

Paige, the devil herself, finally took pity on me. “Alright, alright, let’s focus on something important—like how I carried us to victory tonight.”

That successfully derailed the conversation, as the team started debating plays from the game.

But Paige?

She leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear. “You were flirting, by the way.”

I turned my head sharply, ready to argue, only to be met with those damn blue eyes already on me.

Paige smirked. Held the eye contact.

I swallowed hard.

This girl was going to be the death of me.

Kayla clapped her hands. “Alright, we’re starting the movie! No more flirting in the corner.”

“We’re not—” I started, but KK cut me off.

“Shhh, let them have their little thing.”

I gave up. Completely.

Paige just threw an arm around my shoulders as the movie started, completely unbothered by the attention.

“Hope you like long movie nights,” she murmured.

I huffed, but I didn’t move away.

I was doomed. So, so doomed.

And, somehow, I didn’t mind one bit.

---

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                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[f1fantasys]

Thought you were mine all along, guess I was wrong - Part 5

Summary - Lando's pov on everything that's going on.

Warnings - angst, dickhead Lando.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.

Lando's pov.

Lando knew from the very beginning that the two of you could never be just friends with benefits. His feelings towards you were too strong, and it was only a matter of time until he asked you out officially, knowing that you felt the same way.

Well, that was the plan. Unit Magui came back into the picture.

Your relationship wasn't exclusive - there was never a conversation about getting with other people, not that Lando had done so since you'd started, but all it took was a moment of weakness to unleash the terror of the next few months.

It was Singapore, like 3 months ago. You weren't at that race and Lando had just won. High on adrenaline from a much needed win, a familiar presence stood by his hotel door as he got in from the circuit.

He wasn't sure how he felt about seeing her there. They'd fooled about in the past, but nothing came of whatever they had going on. He won't lie though, at that time, when they broke off, it hurt him more than he let on. Whether it was just the fact that once again there was no one to come home to, or something else, he couldn't say. And it wasn't soon after that you jumped into the picture, so all his woes about Magui were quickly forgotten.

Anyways, he'd invited her into his room, and one thing led to another, and the two of them fucked. He internally kicked himself the second he slid a condom on and buried himself in her. And the high - well it wasn't a high. It was anything but. All he could think about was you, and how much more incredible you were. Lando had kicked Magui out straight away, the guilt eating at him for betraying you, though he didn't have the guts to come clean.

Fast forward another 3 months, and this time she showed up at Lando's apartment in Monaco. He thanked the gods that you weren't there when she did, because his world came crashing down when she broke the news about being pregnant.

He wasn't ready to be a father, hell he wasn't ready for her to fall into his life so easily, but the more he thought of it, he really didn't have a choice.

And when it came to you? He thought it better to have you cut out completely because he couldn't bare the thought of being around you when you couldn't be together.

Seeing you in Monaco one evening had all of Lando's feeling towards you rush up to the surface. It was a no brainer, no matter how wrong, that he dragged you to his car and fucked all of those said feeling into you, knowing he would never get another chance.

He'd so wanted to come clean, tell you the truth, but again, he didn't want to see the look in your eyes when you learned of his betrayal. So he made up a lie. That he and Magui were giving it another shot. That he wanted to give it another shot with her.

He could tell you were hurt, trying to hold it together in front of him, and as much as he tried to say the words pregnant, or baby, he got stuck in his throat, and once again, he'd rather usher you out as if he didn't want you. He thought it would be easier if you hated him.

Then came the McLaren event in London a few weeks later.

Lando was caught off guard when as the elevator doors opened to reveal you standing there, looking beautiful as ever. He couldn't help but let his eyes roam over your body, feeling his cheeks heat up when he caught a glimpse of your cleavage.

It wasn't until Magui snapped him out of his trance, and when she kissed him, he went with it, not sure how he'd survive the few minutes with the girl he used to 'see' (?) and the girl he's seeing. He knew he was being a dick, doing this in front of you. But he was afraid, as always.

Lando had hoped to catch you before the interview on stage. He wanted to clear the air in the hopes of things not being so awkward, but of course there was no time. So he held his breath as he walked on, and somehow your presence calmed him, and the interview went on without a hitch. Ironic, he thought. But he wasn't complaining.

At some point later that night his eyes caught you and Magui. The sight didn't look pretty. It looked as if you both you ready to knock the other out, he intervened. And of course, being the asshole he was, he acted like a bitch towards you. He had no idea where the adrenaline came from, but before he knew it he was throwing words and questions to you.

''I'm in love'' the words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them, and honestly? The look in your eyes could have killed him. This time, he knew he message up. There was no taking back his words, no going back.

He wasn't sure why he followed you outside, but again, his brain and body were on autopilot even though his heart was on another dimension. He made you choose, the bastard. And his heart broke a little more when you revealed how you'd already lost him.

Lando so wished he could pull you in his arms, beg for your forgiveness even though he didn't deserve it one bit. But he chose the easier route, his plan was he make you hate him, wasn't it? And he actively had no choice and needed to move on from you, so he stuck with it, and watched you walk away.

It was no surprise the night was spent wallowing, an annoyed Magui at his side, but he made the conscious decision to come clean to you. Only then would he be able to fully let you go, and concentrate on his new relationship and baby on the way.

He woke up the next morning and the first thing he did after showering was make a beeline for your room. Don't ask how he knew your room number.

Was it a mistake to just barge in? Maybe. Because the sight of you when you opened the door was one he wished he'd never see; you, in another mans' tshirt, legs barely covered. When when he saw who it was that shuffled in the bed, Lando felt a rush of anger flow through he body. Out of all the men in this world, you chose another racing driver, and that did unimaginable things to him.

He knew he had no right to react the way he did. You didn't deserve a disgusted look thrown your way when you whispered his name. He could see the hurt in your eyes, but Lando knew, before he said something he regretted, he needed to get away from you. But his feet were planted on the ground, stuck. He opened his mouth a few times to say something, but each time the words got stuck in his throat. It wasn't long until you slammed the door on his face, and he didn't blame you. So he walked away, shoulder sagging, a mix of emotions roaming his body.

The weeks following that were the hardest for Lando. He'd hated how he tret you, how he talked to you, reacted as seeing you move on from him. Did he really think you'd stay single forever after he dumped you? No. You were too switched on for that. And you deserved someone a thousand times better than him. Didn't sting any less though.

One night, as Lando had flown back to Monaco from Spain and was driving back to his apartment, he somehow managed to end up driving to your place. He didn't plan on coming here, hell he didn't even know what he'd say to you. But his legs dragged his ass up to your floor and taking a breath, he knocked.

He heard shuffling instead, praying you were alone, praying Mitch or any other guy wasn't here.

For whatever reason you let him in, and he found himself sat on your couch, his nervousness turning him into a dick again.

Finally, he broke the silence with a chuckle, quoting you, and catching you off guard.

''There really isn't anything to say..yeah..easy for you to say, what with fucking Mitch so quickly''

''Lando seriously, grow the fuck up. How is it okay for you to move on, and not okay for me to?''

''Move on from what? We were nothing, it was just sex''

Lies. He knew every word leaving his lips were lies. But he wouldn't, couldn't correct himself.

He knew his words crushed your heart

''Yeah, exactly, it was just sex, so why is me fucking Mitch at the minute a problem? you said, voice like stone.

''You're over reacting'' he sighed, leaning forward and running a hand through his hair.

''Am I? You're the one who wanted to talk. So talk''

He stayed silent.

I'm sorry

''Like i said, i have nothing to say. You're the one who decided to stop...the sex, whatever..so why are you here?''

Lando's eyes found yours with a look you couldn't place, anger? hurt? pleading? you weren't sure.

''Lando'' you pressed, standing up, hoping he'd get the hint and leave because you were this close to breaking down.

''Magui's pregnant''

The words came out like word vomit. This was not how the conversation was meant to go, but he couldn't help but feel a weight off his shoulders lifted. At the same time, he needed to leave. He refused to see you break down because of him, in front of him, the selfish coward.

So, like always, he walked away, closing the door for your apartment behind him as he leaned against it, tears prickling the corners of his eyes.

It was the baby he was mad at. Hell, he didn't know know if he was mad. He was just overwhelmed. Too much was happening too quickly, and in the process he'd lost the person he cared about the most.

Exhausted, Lando made his way back home, sighing when he opened the door to see Magui, fuming.

''What?'' he asked, sounding defeated.

He chuckled sarcastically.

''As if I wouldn't find out about your....detour, to her house'' she spat.

''It's not what you think'' he threw back, not having the energy to continue with ridiculous conversation, so he walked past her.

But the night didn't end there.

It was the beginning of the end for Lando and Magui...

A/N - quick little pov on Lando's side. Didn't really come out as great as I'd hope but hope y'all still enjoyed it? Let me know in the comments!

Taglist - @somanyfandomsbruh @lanf1an @annimausi @ernegren @plotpal @hurtblossom @rbv3rstappen @tylerstacobell @wanderingreigns @bowielovesyou @alexanderachillesisgay @sarx164 @xoxomansee @hurtblossom @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @msimpala-67 @jxnellat @chlmtfilms @abq654 @ernegren @stav2004 @myformula1addiction @ayap4paya @l0nelyhe4rts-club @callsignwidow widow-cevans meglouise00 @hoeforsirius @hahdb8 @cmleitora @oscahpastry @maxv33rstappen @saythename-sm @htpssgavi @xoxomansee @anayaverse @rendezvoushn

[queervegancryptid]

I'll never forget working at Walmart and going through orientation where they showed us this video literally encouraging us to snitch on anybody who might be in favor of unionizing.

They were all like, "Unions get in between you and management." And I had to smile and nod, because I needed the job, but all the while, I'm thinking, "Yeah, thanks for explaining what a union is for!" Unions correct a power imbalance between the individual worker and management by leveraging collective action. They're literally supposed to get between you and management to protect your interests and give you recourse in the case of employers violating your rights or otherwise mistreating you.

We met the GM directly after seeing that video. A calculated move on their part, I'm sure. He went out of his way to make himself seem like a "regular guy," just another Good Old Boy, and of course they trotted out the "we're a family here," bullshit.

They'll also do literally anything they can to avoid paying you what you're worth. One day, I accidentally clocked out about an hour late. This put me at something like 40.27 hours for the week. Next thing I know, management is furious with me. Despite only one other person being on the schedule for the shift, they forced me to take a three-hour lunch break to bring my hourly count back safely under the 40-hour threshold. Because otherwise they'd have to give me overtime and benefits.

They didn't fire me. But after that, my total hours for the week never went above 25. They also hired a new person in my department and gave her about 20-25 hours a week. The reason was transparent: better for their bottom line to have two people working 20-25 hours a week than one person who works 40-50 hours a week. I ended up quitting not too long after this. But that's another story.

And all the while, I'm hearing all over the news that "millennials don't want to work." Here I was, begging for more hours or to be trained as a cashier so I could pick up more hours doing shifts on that, and all over the news, people are screaming about how entitled people like me are and how we don't know how to do things and don't want to actually earn a living.

But yeah, the boss is not your friend. You can and should have a cordial and respectful relationship with your boss and coworkers, but they pull the "family," thing for a reason. It's designed to guilt you. Plenty of actual families do this, too: "we're family, so you have to love me, and you have to do/give me x." It's a way to get away with bad behavior, sometimes including outright exploitation and abuse. Don't fall for it.

An incomplete list of things that employers commonly threaten that are 100% illegal in the United States

"We'll fire you if you tell others how much you're making" The National Labor Relations Act of 1935 specifically protects employees who discuss their own wages with each other (you can't reveal someone else's wages if you were given that information in the course of work, but you can always discuss your own or any that were revealed to you outside of work duties)

"If we can't fire you for [discussing wages/seeking reasonable accommodation/filing a discrimination complaint/etc], we'll just fire you for something else the next day." This is called pretextual termination, and it offers your employer almost no protection; if you are terminated shortly after taking a protected action such as wage discussion, complaints to regulatory agencies, or seeking a reasonable accommodation, you can force the burden onto your employer to prove that the termination wasn't retaliatory.

"Disparaging the company on social media is grounds for termination" Your right to discuss workplace conditions, compensation, and collective action carries over to online spaces, even public ones. If your employer says you aren't allowed to disparage the company online or discuss it at all, their social media policy is illegal. However, they can forbid releasing information that they're obligated to keep confidential such as personnel records, business plans, and customer information, so exercise care.

"If you unionize, we'll just shut this branch down and lay everyone off" Threatening to take action against a group that unionizes is illegal, full stop. If a company were to actually shut down a branch for unionizing, they would be fined very heavily by the NLRB and be opening themselves up to a class-action lawsuit by the former employees.

"We can have any rule we want, it's only illegal if we actually enforce it" Any workplace policy or rule that has a "chilling effect" on employees' willingness to exercise their rights is illegal, even if the employer never follows through on any of their threats.

"If you [protected action], we'll make sure you never work in this industry/city/etc again." Blacklisting of any kind is illegal in half the states in the US, and deliberately sabotaging someone's job search in retaliation for a protected action is illegal everywhere in the US.

"Step out of line and you can kiss your retirement fund/last paycheck goodbye." Your employer can never refuse to give you your paycheck, even if you've been fired. Nor can they keep money that you invested in a retirement savings account, and they can only claw back the money they invested in the retirement account under very specific circumstances.

"We'll deny that you ever worked here" not actually possible unless they haven't been paying their share of employment taxes or forwarding your withheld tax to the government (in which case they're guilty of far more serious crimes, and you might stand to gain something by turning them in to the IRS.) The records of your employment exist in state and federal tax data, and short of a heist that would put Oceans 11 to shame, there's nothing they can do about that.

[wonderjanga]

Okay so I had an idea and my mind is blanking on what to do with it, so Captian Marvel does in fact have a secret identity outside Billy and it it literally Captain Marvel but with glasses and he is a professional Captian Marvel Impersonator, who also goes by Captain Marvel to stay in character.

Flash: “Marvel!”

Marvel: *indisguise* “No, no no no, I’m Calvin Marvin.”

Flash: “Yeah, right. You’re Captain Marvel but you’re wearing glasses.”

Marvel: “Nope, I’m a Captain Marvel impersonator who needs glasses.”

Flash: “Wha? There’s no way. You look exactly like Cap. Buddy, you’re not fooling me.”

Marvel: “But I’m not Cap. I’m just a really good impersonator. I’m so good Cap hires me whenever he doesn’t want to do anything.”

Flash: “What?” *doesn’t believe him* “When’s he done that?”

Marvel: “Well, there was the last weekly meeting.” *shrugs*

Flash: “What.”

Marvel: “Yeah. The one where Batman ended up showing a bunch of photos of Robin when he was younger.”

Flash: “WHAT?”

Marvel: “What?”

Flash: “Dude, you have to be lying.”

Marvel: “But I’m not-”

Flash: “But you are! There’s NO WAY I didn’t notice one of my best buds was being impersonated! There’s no way Bats didn’t notice! Or Supes!”

Marvel: “Well, maybe they didn’t know Marvel as well as you think?”

Flash: “Of course I do! I’ve known him for years!”

Marvel: “Oh really? Well, did you know it was actually me who is playing Mario kart with you the other day?”

Flash: “No way-”

Marvel: “You picked Wario and we played the rainbow road track.”

*silence*

Flash: “Cap could’ve told you-”

Marvel: “Why would he tell me about how you got a call from Iris asking about whether or not you could pick up some milk for her?”

*more silence*

Flash: *rethinking every encounter he’s had with Billy* “Jesus…”

Marvel: “Oh, I know him. He’s cool. Got to meet him through Cap too.”

Now, in case you couldn’t tell, to Billy this was a little jokey joke. Billy thought this would just be a little funny ha ha thing… but no. Flash ended up staring at him with the most betrayed expression for the next few weeks.

Marvel: “Hey, Flash!”

Flash: “Which one are you?”

Marvel: “Huh?”

Flash: “Which one are you? Cap or Calvin?”

Marvel: “Uh… Cap?”

Flash: *thousand yard stare* “Dude, is it bad I couldn’t even tell if you weren’t, Cap?” *honestly sounds slightly ashamed*

Marvel: “No??”

[ilonii]

Prisoner Toji Headcanons - T.F

Prisoner Toji who you met on complete accident. You and a friend thought it’d be a good idea to try out “write-a-inmate”. The pair of you cooked up some letters and prepared to ship them out right up until you unfortunately got cold feet. Your friend, however, was determined to complete the process, sending off both your letters to your respective inmates.

Prisoner Toji, who was absolutely shocked to receive a pink, strawberry scented letter in the mail. The only person who’s ever sent him as much as high five is his son, and even that’s only once in a blue moon.

Prisoner Toji who isn’t really interested in replying until he saw the small polaroid attached to the bottom of the letter. This couldn’t possibly be the person writing to him. You were too young, and far too pretty be interested in writing some 40-year-old man rotting away in a cell.

Prisoner Toji who ends up taking a few extra weeks to write you back. He wants to make sure that he didn’t talk about the wrong things or say something that’d stop you from replying to his message.

Prisoner Toji who doesn’t know how shocked you are to see a letter from the state penitentiary mixed in with your bills and magazine subscriptions.

Prisoner Toji who is delighted to see you’re long-awaited waiting on his bed after an early morning workout.

Prisoner Toji who realizes how much you two have in common. You answered all his questions and even asked him a few of your own. It turns out that you guys like the same shows, enjoyed the same foods, even had a few of the same hobbies (toji had a hidden talent for crochet but shhh, only you need to know that)

Prisoner Toji who after five consistent months of writing each other, finally works up the nerve to ask you to come and see him. He even asked for your number to give you a call and arrange for a date.

Prisoner Toji who almost creams his pants the first time he hears your voice. It’s more perfect than he imagined. Absolute music to his ears. You ended up talking so long he had to threaten a few of the guys behind him just to get a few extra minutes.

Prisoner Toji who absolutely cannot wait to see you. On the day he’s supposed to see you he wakes up extra early, showers longer than he’s supposed to and attempts to actually style his hair for the first time in the five years he’s been incarcerated.

Prisoner Toji who didn’t think you could get any beautiful but stands corrected when he see’s you walk through the doors.

“Hi Toji”

“Hello pretty”

“Sorry If I’m a little nervous, I didn’t think I’d be seeing you so soon”

“Don’t worry, I’m a little nervous myself”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’ve been locked up five years this is the firs time I’ve seen any outside of sweaty old men; I don’t even think I still know how to talk to a woman”

“Toji you’re so silly, but for what it’s worth I think you’re doing a pretty good job”

“Well thank you, how have you been”

“I’ve been good, I spent a lot of time tryna figure out what to wear today, I wanted to look nice for you.”

“Yeah? Stand up let me see what you landed on”

Did toji really care what you were wearing? A little. Did he really just want to see you get up and spin for him? Absolutely.

“Wow, I think you look amazing. Wonderful choice sweetheart”

Prisoner Toji who makes the best of the next 30 minutes he has with you. Flirting, laughing, cracking jokes. He does it all in the little time he has left.

Prisoner Toji who after you, for the first time in half a decade, really wishes he was out of this hell hole.

border by @bernardsbendystraws