#rip angel bin

[choisansexual]

[lostintransist]

Fallen Angel | Ovulation is a Bitch™ - SFW-ish

18+ MDNI

CW: Sex mentioned in vague detail.

John had found a property that would fit everyone. The original house had an addition added sometime in the last ten years. The extra space roughed out to a room per person, minus Johnny who would be sharing with Simon. They took the largest room since it would be housing them both. You got the next largest room despite all arguments. John put his foot down as the ‘owner’ and assigned the rooms out. The kitchen, dining space, and living room all ran together from the front door, two bedrooms extending behind the kitchen. The other

The last of the moving boxes were getting broken down and put in the bin. Moving had been quite a process, trying to decide which of the several options of everything everyone owned you had taken Kyle aside to beg him to convince John to buy a new set of everything for the new house to avoid the headache of trying to find where to store three couches, four kitchen tables, and five separate kitchen sets. John always listened best to Kyle.

Lord only knows how but Kyle convinced everyone (but they wouldn’t let you offer up even a single piece of money) to pool in and buy the biggest couch you had ever seen and a TV to match. If your opinion on the choice of color or which table to bring home held greater weight? Well, you wouldn’t fight them on this front.

Simon would be cooking and Johnny, who was not allowed to touch the stove after the last incident, would rotate around him prepping things for Simon to cook no matter what it was. Finally, after stepping on his lover a few times Simon would pin Johnny to the counter by the hips, kiss him firmly on the lips, and send him to sit next to you as you smirked into your coffee cup. Watching those two dance around each other in the kitchen became one of your favorite pastimes.

It wouldn’t be so bad if they weren’t so fucking hot.

You were asexual. The understanding of your sexuality sat firm and undeniable in your soul. Except when you were ovulating. The bitch that is your uterus did not care that your soul and mind were finally in agreement, she wanted to be fucked into the mattress and given a baby.

It wasn’t just Simon and Johnny. It was Kyle with his skin that looked so smooth and smelled divine, Gary and his pheromones wafting off him as he slams the front door behind him after a run, and John and his fucking beard that you want to paw through like a cat as he is buried to the hilt in you.

You couldn’t ask that of any of them. The lines you had drawn after they asked you to choose were deep. How did you step over those without confusing the boundaries?

Standing abruptly, you announce to the room you are going on a walk. Kyle and Gary had entered the kitchen sometime while you were sucked into the vortex of your thoughts. Nodding once to yourself of your intentions you leave the kitchen, ignoring all the unspoken communication that must be going on behind your back.

You run into John when you leave your bedroom dressed for your walk. The slight moan that escapes your mouth when you physically slam into him is ignored on both sides.

“Going somewhere fun?” John settles a hand on your back, chest, and stomach flush with the side of his body.

Polyamory as an ace person had been such a delight. You could snuggle with any of them, offer or accept kisses as needed, tickle or tease as needed to help someone out of a funk, and never expect anything more. Right now, though? You fought the urge to rip your flesh off; John’s body against yours fired off every signal in your uterus that you strained to ignore.

“Just a walk,” you smile and step away to retrieve your shoes from the rack next to the front door.

“Sounds delightful, I’ll come if you don’t mind.” John grabbed his own shoes, settling next to you on the couch and skillfully knotting his laces.

Your find stagnates on all the knots he must know that could hold you in place while he makes you feel better. Fingers stilling on your shoes it takes John kneeling before you and replacing his hands with your own to draw you back into your skull and out of your uterus. He handles the task with the competence he does everything before slipping his hand in yours and keeping you close as you leave the house. If your bits throb the entire walk? No one’s business.

The mile loop is enough to take the barest hint of the edge off your desires. John had a way of settling you and making you laugh all at once. It would have been enough if Gary hadn’t come to find you.

Head deep in your closet looking for the vibrator you knew you had packed over from the flat you shared with Simon, you smelt him first. The raw and masculine scent of him called to you, petrichor to your parched lady bits. Biting your lip so hard you nearly drew blood you straightened up.

“Hi Gary, whatcha needing?”

Have you seen my toiletries? I know I moved them over but no one has seen them since we got back from our last mission.

Searching through your memories you can’t recall a single instance of seeing any bottles that weren’t immediately claimed.

“No, but I can show you which ones are mine and you can use those until you get a chance to order some more of yours. Does that work?” You look up at him and smile.

He nods, stepping into your room to offer you a hand up.

Taking it was a mistake.

As you stand you can see the shimmer of sweat across the width of his throat and upper chest and all you want to do is lick him.

You must freeze for too long. Gary crooks a finger beneath your chin and lifts until his questioning face matches yours.

“Gary, I need help,” you whisper.

“Anything-ng-ng,” he whispers back.

“Fuuuuck,” your eyes roll back into your head. He could have said anything but that and you would have been able to talk yourself out of asking.

Stepping around him, you trail your fingers across his abs as you reach for your door, shutting and locking it.

Curling your fingers still on him you hug him from behind, burying your nose between his shoulder blades.

“You know I’m asexual right?”

“Ye-ye-s?” Even his stutter seems to question you.

“Sometimes I still want sex. Only when I’m ovulating, but I swear it’s worse because it only happens one day out of twenty-eight,” you press your nose into him further, taking in a deep breath of satisfying man smell.

He waits. Gary had been government-trained to observe until he could draw solid conclusions.

“The help I need is sexual. I can’t find my vibrator and if I have to look at any one of you deliciously strong, good-smelling men I am going to start to bite like a rabid dog.” Your fingers tighten down on the ribbed tank top and the muscles below them. “Nothing will change in the day-to-day and if that doesn’t work for you, I won’t ask.”

His breath hitches both in your ears and under your touch. The air clicks on, the gentle rush of air entering your room now. Screwing your eyes shut you wait for rejection in the darkness you have created.

Gary’s fingers trail over the back of your hands, peeling them from his shirt. You shift from foot to foot, waiting for the embarrassment to start. Instead of him releasing your hands he brings them to his lips and kisses the tip of each finger. When that is completed, he turns and cradles your face, eyes shining as he searches for confirmation.

“Please Gary,” you whine, waiting for his decision.

He crashes into you like a wave meeting shore, lips fusing with yours.

Taking everything you can from him leaves you feeling half-satisfied. Thank all the gods you bought a new pack of condoms on your last shopping trip; the last ones had expired. It had been over a year since you could reliably have a partner, you didn’t dare have anyone over when Simon might appear at any moment. Taking care of your own needs had never been a problem until the plethora of options before you.

Gary drops a kiss on your lips as you rest in your bed. He had already cleaned you using the pack of wet wipes you kept in your bedside table drawer. They were wonderful for when you forgot to wash your face until you were already settled into bed, and aftercare apparently.

Hold on, let me see if I can get you some more help.

“Who?” you glare up at him unsure if you would prefer John or Kyle.

Dressing in his gym-sweated clothes he ducks.

Guess we will see who is home.

Sitting up you hiss at him to stop before he unlocks the door.

“Leave Simon and Johnny alone,” you hesitate to explain your thoughts. They were too new to each other to dare poke at their dynamic.

Gary nods before ducking out the door.

To your surprise, Kyle appears next. He pampers you, leaving your body shuddering. Kyle is a gentle lover. He is the first man to put his mouth to your clit, sending star across your vision and chuckling as you scramble for purchase in his hair.

He sends in John as the day slips closer to night. John comes bearing dinner. After he pulls his shirt off to settle across your body he eats with you.

“Is this why you were so sparky earlier today?” John glances up at you from his plate.

“Sparky?” You ask, incredulous.

“You looked like you wanted to chop yourself in half rather than be touched,” he dipped one shoulder in a shrug. “Sparky.”

Your mouth opens as you run your tongue across your teeth, frustrated.

“Yes.”

The admission costs you. The Cheshire grin that tugs John’s cheeks to his eyes should have told you what you were in for. He edged you for nearly an hour before fucking you like he was trying to touch your brain. At one point you cried out when you had to use both hands to push back against your headboard and further into his thrusts to avoid slamming your head. John had shushed you and lifted you and rolled to his back, so you rode him.

John settles clothes on your body, deposits you in the bathroom, and retrieves you when you are done. He hands you an electrolyte drink and orders you to bed. When you protest about the sheets he takes great pride in informing you that Kyle and Gary changed your sheets while you were in the bathroom.

“But I want to spend time in the living room,” you protest.

“Are you still feeling nippy? I bet Gary would be ready to go again.” John, nonplussed by offering one of his men up for sex, looks at you with an unfathomable expression.

You squeeze your legs together and stick out your tongue at him.

Taking your act of impertinence as an invitation John kisses you, licking into your mouth.

“To bed bird or I might find the energy to fling you around again,” he growls against your lips.

This time you listen.

Someone let it slip while you were sleeping. Johnny lay nose to nose with you when you woke the next morning.

"Why not me bonnie?" The sadness in his voice hurts you.

"I don't want to cause problems with you and Simon. I love you both and watching you in love brings me so much joy," you rest a hand against his face. The appearence of an early morning beard scratches at your hand. The sadness in his eyes lingers. "There is alway next month?"

He pushes forward, teeth and tongue and pretty little moans marking his intentions to take you next month.

A/N: well that got a bit more steamy then I meant for a SFW version...

@the-loneyest 😘 @lilynotdilly

Fallen Angel Masterlist | Masterlist

[christronomy]

sugar daddies (maybe slight pervs?) chan and changbin who enjoy giving their bimbo/sugar baby reader the best princess treatment by getting her everything she wants, especially cause she likes clothes. they absolutely loooove when you dress up cause cause you always wear the skimpiest clothing—thigh highs that are super tight they make the plushness of your skin spill over the fabric ever so slightly, the thinnest shirts that show your bra and nipples and short skirts that just barely cover your ass, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. they enjoy the thrill of being able to bend you over any surface in the huge house they got for you and lift up the skirt anytime they want, ruining your cute pink cotton panties by fingering your puffy clit through the fabric, and it makes you sad, but, "we'll buy you new ones pretty angel," changbin says as him and chan exchange lustful gazes. they want to absolutely ravage you right now.

they loooove that you're so sensitive and responsive, and how you can get so uncontrollably loud at times too. chan would be the one pinching your clit gently through your already drenched underwear, coaxing out yet another orgasm from you while changbin plays with your tits, suckling on and gently grazing his teeth against your nipples. they know that even if chan wasn't touching you, you'd definitely still cum just from the stimulation bin is giving you alone, but chan is enjoying this too much—the pathetic little puppy like sounds that escape your lips and the way your thighs tremble every time he so much as grazes his fingers over your clothed pussy, and god do they look so pretty in those thigh high socks you've got on. it makes him want to rip the fabric off, bury his face in between them and give you another reason to whine so pathetically, "like the dumb little slut you are," he'd say.

he's too impatient to undress you or himself so he just tugs your underwear to the side, pressing two fingers into your sopping hole and curling them just the way you like, reveling in the way you jolt and let out a squeal of surprise. they've already got you where they want you—all dumb and fucked out. you're their pretty little fuck doll and you best believe they're gonna have their way with you, taking turns filling you up til your body gives out.

[lovebugism]

Heyo!

Can you pretty please with sugar on top do something with Steve and shy!reader and then passing notes?

Feel free to skip if you want, and thank you in advance! Your writing skills are so good!

ty angel! hope you like it xoxo — after a scolding from keith for talking to you on the job, steve takes matters into his own hands (shy!fem!r, fluff, established relationship, 1.3k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Grieving, grieving, grieving.

Steve goes into his fourth hour on the clock mourning the lack of you. You’re sitting just beside him, click-clacking away at the chunky computer, but he misses you anyway. He hasn’t said a word to you in an hour. He’s pretty sure it has to be a record by now, especially with you close enough to kiss.

Keith got mad at the two of you for ‘fonduing on the job.’ Whatever that means. Now, the two of you are silent and unsure of what to do with yourselves. This job was only tolerable because he could spend eight hours with you. What’s he supposed to do now? Work?

“Have a good day,” he says, a bit robotically but with a smile, as he hands a customer their bag of movies. Killer Klowns, Poltergeist, and Basketcase — for what must be a horror movie marathon for a holiday season cleanse.

The customer service grin washes away the second the door dings open and shut again. The store is quiet and mostly empty, eerily so without you to fill the void. 

A funny joke pops into his head then, and his first instinct is to tell you about it — just to see you smile ‘cause he knows you’ll laugh even if it’s not funny. He looks over his shoulder to make sure Keith isn’t looking, then finds the weirdo watching him like a hawk, only his beady eyes visible over the aisle of tapes.

Steve cowers beneath the ice-cold glare and turns away again. He reaches for a sticky note instead, bright yellow and with the Family Video logo printed in green at the top. The jotting of his pen against the pad fills the mostly silent store. 

He yawns and fakes a stretch to stick the thing on the counter next to you.

You don’t notice it at first — because inventory has drained your awareness so much that it’s all you can focus on — but you’re smiling the second you do. It schlicks when you un-stick it from the laminate to find a sloppy drawing of a cartoon pig. 

“Missing you pig time” is written in something close to chicken scratch just beside it.

You get all giddy, like a schoolgirl in the back of the classroom getting a note from their crush. Being with Steve feels exactly like that, all the time. On the legal pad next to you, you write a cheesy pun of your own — a plump hippo in a neater cursive that reads “I hippopota-miss you.” 

You rip it from the notebook slowly and with a palm spread flat to avoid making too much noise. You crumble it up to pretend like it’s trash, then intentionally miss the bin beside you. The thing bounces by Steve’s sneakers before he bends down to pick it up with a golden hand.

He smooths out the paper as best he can on the counter. Then leans on his elbow and props his scruffy chin in his palm, using his fingers to hide the beam on his face. With his free hand, he draws you a hedgehog adjacent to the cartoonish animal you’d created — only he doesn’t really remember what a hedgehog looks like, so it’s more of a circle with spikes.

“Could really use a hedge-hug right now,” he writes.

He crushes the paper between his palms and tosses it into your lap.

You shoot him a glare, accompanied with a small smile, but he looks away too quickly to see it. 

You begin to beam as your eyes dart over the crumbled paper, an expression so wide Steve can see it in his own head. He’s grieved to miss it, but he doesn’t want Keith to see him and think he’s distracted again. Besides, he knows if he looks at you too long, he’ll have no choice but to kiss you stupid.

Now all you are is unkissed and grieving, more so than you were just five minutes ago. You grow empty with the feeling. It makes the spark of bravery and sudden longing burn brighter behind your ribcage.

You rise from your squeaking swivel chair and walk the very short distance to Steve. Three steps. Five, maybe. Six at the very most. You don’t count them, too overwhelmed by your love for the boy who doesn’t see you coming.

You wrap him up in your arms, wedging yourself between him and the countertop. Your arms clasp behind his lower back as your cheek squishes into his sternum. He smells like home, cologne, and something warmer.

Steve tenses beneath your embrace. Not because he doesn’t welcome it, but because you’re not usually so affectionate this way. It took you months to kiss him first — longer to stop asking to kiss him before you did it. 

And you’re a delicate little thing, too. You hate getting in trouble. Hate the thought that someone, somewhere in the world, was at some point unhappy with you. And even though you don’t particularly care for your boss, you’d think you’d probably cry if Keith ever scolded you.

Steve knows this, too. So he doesn’t give in to you so easily.

“Whatcha doing?” he croons lowly to you.

“Give you a hedge-hug,” you mumble into his chest.

He scoffs a faint laugh that fans across your forehead. “You’ll get in trouble,” he teases in a gentle whisper, slowly melting into your embrace. His wide hands smooth warm along your spine. He doesn’t press you anything closer with his touch, just cradles you softly against him.

“Don’t care. I just miss you.”

“Hippopota-miss me?” he jokes and noses into your hair. You smell like home, in both the figurative and literal sense of the word. Equal parts because you spent the night at his place and because your scent strikes something short of nostalgia inside his chest.

You laugh. He can feel the golden sound of it in his ribcage. “Pig time,” you answer.

“How’d you like that one, huh?” he asks, muffled against you.

“It was genius.”

“Right!” he chuckles. “Thought of it outta nowhere and had to tell someone about it.”

Your head shakes against him as a grin blossoms on your lips. He can’t see it from this angle, but he can feel it — in the way your cheek squishes harder against his sternum. “Your brain is so amusing, you know that?”

Steve, knowing that would be an insult coming from Robin, decides to take it as a compliment from you. He presses his petaled mouth to your forehead and lingers there for several moments. “Thank you,” he murmurs after.

The Robin in question turns out to be his savior, neither intentionally nor ungrudgingly.

She’s stacking VHS tapes on the shelves with Keith, both of them crouched to restock the bottom rows. She rises first, bones creaking in protest. “God, I feel like an eighty-year-old, man,” she groans and stretches her aching knees.

Back to full height again, she sees the two of you wrapped in an embrace behind the counter. She scoffs and rolls her eyes. Not because she’s jealous — she’s definitely not jealous — but because the two of you couldn’t last a whole hour not talking. It’s deplorable.

But despite her internalized complaints, she refuses to let Keith catch you fonduing a second time. Right before he stands beside her, she swipes a hand over the top row of tapes. Adventure movies titled L through M tumbled to the ground, a few of them knocking the older boy on his mulleted head.

“Ow!” he winces, nasally and whiny. He cradles the top of his deep brown, only slightly greasy hair and stares daggers at the girl above him. “What the heck was that for?”

Robin shoots him a shaking smile, freckled face blotched pink. “Sorry,” she lilts, voice trembling. “Spasm.”

[elixrr]

part 1 here

It's heartbreaking, being a fictional character in a fictional world. But what makes it worse it that his player; his love—his God, grew bored of him and discarded him.

What was he to you? Did you even feel affection for him? He loved you. He truly loved you because he had nothing but you. He's constantly locked in the same fake, digital room, even when you think he's out living his supposed stable life that some temporary code convinces you he's living. He'd do anything to please you, to keep you with him, because ultimately, you were his savior. You were everyone's savior.

And yet, you threw them all away.

Answer him.

What was he to you?

What were they to you? Were they toys to you? Dolls?

He feels betrayed. Rather, he felt betrayed. He can't feel a single thing now. Floating in the void of a digital trash bin stole all his feelings. It stole his supposed friends; it stole his supposed city; it stole his supposed life. His lifeless soul couldn't feel how much time had passed since the day you deleted the game, not that he would want to, even if he could be conscious again. It's dull in a dark void, and everything about him is already on the line. If he were conscious, not only would he have to openly sulk about how worthless he became in your eyes, but he would also have no future to look to. There wouldn't be any point to existing, let alone wanting to exist. If you ever re-downloaded the game, you would probably continue benching him, and that would be an extra sign that you'll never care about him again; that you came on for anyone else but him.

The only thing he'd wish for,

would be complete deletion.

Deletion of the email linked to your game account would result in the deletion of every single file of him and you. Every single fracture of evidence that you cared would disappear.

And, what he'd really want would be his whole self being erased.

In this life of his, he'd have no point. You left him, and probably completely. It doesn't matter what you do. Whether you never play the game again or even start it up again, none of that would matter because he wouldn't have a use in your life. If he doesn't matter in your life, then he wouldn't matter ever until he's possibly featured in an Archon quest or in some event. Even so, you might never use him ever again.

A single tear forms in his eyes. There's no point in existing.

Another tear falls. You never loved him, did you?

His eyes flutter open, and he's back in the team lineup screen. You're there. The supports are there, but he can't bring himself to pose. He can't bring himself to lighten up.

What are you going to do now? Repeat history, strip him of his artifacts, his weapon, and trash him? Slam him down into a pit of despair? A loveless void made for the hopeless and hurt, all of which once loved you and felt you loved them, now suddenly were torn and tossed like old, ragged dolls.

Through his broken heart and blurry eyes, he could see your face. You were about to enter his character detail screen, but you paused. You were looking at him like you were worried, and genuinely so. And, like an angel, you whispered his name with delicate, careful concern.

“What happened to you?”

You abandoned him. That's what happened, and he bets you never knew.

“Leave me alone,” he nearly sobs, “I know you don't want to use me anymore. Rip me apart for all I care—it won't matter when I'm back in that void again.”

“A void..? Wait, never mind that, I do care. What— really, what happened? Wait, you can hear me?”

He wipes his tears away and stands to face you fully. All the supports watch his bravery against the code.

“I could always see you; everyone on the field could. We can hear you.” He takes a moment to breathe it all in. Maybe... Maybe he can get you to listen. Maybe he can help you hear him out.

Maybe he could help you love him again?

“Anyways, the void is where every unused person goes. Once... Once we leave the screen, we just sit here until you use us. And if you remove us from all teams, we're sent— we're plummeted into said void.”

“Oh my God,” you whisper, leaning back, “I need to revisit everyone I...”

“Please, wait, I—” I want to be used. I want to be the one you revisit. I want to be the one you miss.

“Player, creator, whoever you are, just please,” he watches as you scroll through the team lineup options, “please don't leave—”

And you enter another lineup.

And everyone else is gone, too.

“Please. Don't leave me again.”

He falls over, not caring how much it hurts. Nothing works. Nothing will work. It's hopeless.

He'll be stuck here, waiting, waiting, and waiting. Not for you—there's no point in that anyway, but for your second deletion.

He'll be waiting for the game's deletion.

For his final deletion.

You left him, and he's clearly not important to you. As heartbreaking as it is, he accepts it. Even with this dimensional intersection, he can't convince you.

As heartbreaking as it is, he's just a fictional character to you in this fictional world. He loved you, and he thought you did too, but clearly, you don't. Because he is just an abandoned, rotting toy, and you are the player who abandoned him.

And, he thinks, if you want him to rot, then so be it,

Let him rot.

@iridescentrays @inlovewithlondonn @falconclaw244 @shiningpaint-marbleheart @jeremyth @hikaru-sama @ayatoq @krrkt @yureismellslikefanfic @samhelleborewrites @bi-panicatthedisco @hannya-writes @thomaliciouss @notisekais @lovelykrystal @raeharmonia @ayra2452008 @chikai-k @dreamsofmoney @shutingstar

To everyone who wanted part 2 :))

[blueberrylixie]

yes, professor

part one of the yes series

to read part two, yes, sir, click here !

professor changbin x fem! student reader 

word count: 9,903

content warnings: oral sex (m and f receiving), vaginal penetration, pussy job, fingering, overstimulation, unprotected sex, creampie (use protection kids!), professor kink, pet names (princess, angel, baby), light degradation (bin calls her a slut mostly), spanking with hand and a ruler, classroom sex.

let me know if i missed anything in this one-shot bc i tend to miss stuff! if you want to skip to the smut, scroll to the white heart divider!

Your first day of your last year of college was already off to a bad start. 

Not only was it already eighty-eight degrees out at only ten in the morning, but you had tripped and fallen on your way out of your dorm, and skinned your knee. The cut still hurt like a bitch, even as you traipsed the fifteen minutes to your first class of the day. 

And that was really the cherry on top of this miserable summer day. You had to attend your first and only college math class. And you were absolute shit at math.

If you had your way, you wouldn’t be taking this course at all. Not only were you bad at the subject, but you hated it. You wanted to become a technical writer, which 90% of the time didn’t actually require you to know any math. Writing? Love. Science? Fine. Even history was passable, Cs get degrees and all that. But math, for lack of better words, was the bane of your existence. You even struggled to pass back in high school. 

So no one could blame you for putting off this class until practically the last second. You didn’t want this to be your very last course before graduation, because that would be absolute torture. So you buckled in to take it your fall semester instead.

And oh how you were regretting it. 

Now, you stood outside the classroom. The little window on the door was covered with white paper, so you couldn’t see inside. If you could, you would probably have run away. 

Instead, you steeled yourself, straightened your shoulders, took a deep breath, and pushed it open. 

You had arrived a few minutes early, a little later than you usually were to other classes. You had admittedly stalled back at your dorm for as long as possible, knowing what was in store. 

You took a seat in the second row, a few seats away from a quiet-looking guy with dark hair. You pulled a notebook and pencil out of your backpack, before looking up at the front of the room.

And that was when you saw him.

He was standing facing away from you, writing something on the chalkboard. He wasn’t very tall, but he was incredibly built. His broad shoulders flexed in that navy blue button-up as he wrote, and you couldn’t help but check him out. His movements were confident and sure, like he knew he belonged up there. 

You’d never had a hot professor before. Maybe that was about to change.

Of course, he could have an unattractive face, you reminded yourself. Or even worse, a shitty personality. Just because he was ripped didn’t mean he was hot.

Then, he turned around.

Dear God. Your heart rate picked up immediately, your chest contracting as you gazed upon him rapturously. You didn't want to look behind you to see if anyone else felt the same way. There was no way they didn't. 

His dark hair was styled casually, wavy bangs sweeping across his forehead. He had kind, intelligent, yet humorous eyes, adorned with thick-framed black glasses, and small but full lips. Your eyes kept zeroing in on them, and you found yourself wondering what they would feel like against yours.

You shook your head, instantly clearing that thought from your mind. You could not be imagining your professor in that way. Even if he was young, maybe five years older than you at the most. You could not think about him like that. You were terrible enough at math as it was, and you couldn't afford to get distracted.

But when he smiled at the class, your mind went blank, forgetting your little pep talk. God, how could a man look so fine by simply existing?

“Good morning, class,” he said, pointing up at the board. My name is-“

Seo Changbin. 

You read the two words, written in a rushed, messy scrawl. You almost mouthed his name, wanting to feel what it was like to say it. But you kept your mouth shut. 

“My name is Seo Changbin, and I’m your professor this semester,” he continued. “This is a mid-level calculus class, so if that’s not what you’re here for, then you should probably leave now.”

You inwardly sighed. Taking a mid-level math class when you hadn’t taken math in four years seemed dangerous. And honestly, in any other situation, you might have hopped up and left, off to find the easiest possible course the school offered.

But how could you pass up the chance to be around this absolute specimen of a man for an entire semester?

So you stayed put.

“Good.” Changbin moved his hair out of his face, and you watched with a fervor you never thought possible. If your friends could see you, they would call you a simp. For this man, hell yes you were. 

“Now, I’ll be coming around with the syllabus.” He held up a stack of papers. “We’ll go over it, and then jump into the first lesson. Don’t worry, it’s nothing crazy. Yet.” He smirked, and your breath stuttered in your throat. Every time you assumed he couldn’t get any hotter, he inevitably did.

He started making his way up and down the rows of students, handing them the small syllabus. He greeted a few who he must have known from a previous course, asking them how their summer was. 

So he was an attentive teacher, too. Dammit.

Finally, he reached you. When your eyes met, just the hint of a smile graced those perfect lips. You held his gaze, unable to look away. Your entire body was on fire, and you crossed your legs in what you hoped was a casual manner. 

For a split second, you could have sworn his eyes flicked up and down your body, once, checking you out. But it was so fast, you couldn’t tell. Your face was so hot, you couldn’t think straight.

“And what’s your name?” he asked, coming to a stop in front of you. 

As you introduced yourself, he took a step nearer, leaning down. He wasn’t even that close, but you instantly felt the need to pull him to you. You weren’t sure if he felt it too, but the energy between you was magnetic. 

“Are you new here?” he asked curiously. “I’ve never seen you in my class before.”

“No, I don’t usually take math classes,” you responded. “This is my first and only one, actually. I’m an English major, but it was required.”

“So you’re a senior?” he chuckled. “Waited till the last possible minute to join us, did you?”

You shrugged, embarrassment threatening to overwhelm you. But you didn’t let it show, simply shrugging and smiling at him. “Math isn’t my thing.”

“Well, hopefully I can change that,” he grinned, handing you a syllabus. “Welcome.”

As he started class, you became enthralled with how knowledgeable he was. While most everything went over your head, you found yourself wanting to understand what he was saying. You wanted to impress him, wanted him to be proud of you. So while you would usually space out and succumb to boredom, you actually read the syllabus in its entirety, and took vigorous notes. Even if it was boring, you wanted to hear every word that came out of Changbin’s mouth.

When class was over, and you were packing up, Changbin walked over to the desks, saying goodbye to some of the students. You ignored him, not wanting to come off as too eager.

“It was nice to meet you, Miss English Major,” Changbin said, and you looked up, shocked that he remembered anything about you.

You glowered at him, rolling your eyes playfully. “Is that all you’re going to refer to me as from now on?” you teased.

He shrugged, straightening his shirt and smiling. “Once I get to know you, I’m sure I’ll refer to you as something else. For now, have a good day, Miss English Major.”

——————————

Two weeks passed uneventfully. 

Changbin’s calculus class had started ramping up, and you were barely surviving. Everything was very confusing, and you found yourself blacking out for most of class just staring at your hot professor, instead of learning. All your other courses were a breeze, which left you tons of time to focus on failing to understand basic math. 

You and Changbin had continued to talk, a little bit every day after class. He would ask you about your other courses, mostly about writing and all kinds of grammar. He seemed genuinely interested in you and your life, which was so opposite from any other teacher. He even wanted to know about your personal life, like your family and friends. You told him everything. Except the fact that your friends were dying to meet your aforementioned “hot professor”. It felt nice knowing that he supported you, even if you were inevitably going to fail his class.

You fell into a nice groove, of sorts. You would act cool, funny, even effortless, to his face, and when you got back to your dorm, when none of your roommates were back yet, you would touch yourself to the thought of him. Fantasizing about his rough, strong hands holding your thighs open as he ate you out, or him caging you in between his huge arms as he pounded into you from behind. You couldn’t help it, you were infatuated by him. You wanted him, no matter how terrible you were doing in his class.

All that changed on the Monday of your third week.

“Next week, we’re having our first test,” Changbin announced as he stood at the front of the room. He turned on the projector to display a PowerPoint presentation with information about the test.

It would be thirty percent of your overall grade. One test?? Thirty percent??

You felt your mouth hanging open as you stared up at the screen, then down at Changbin. How could such a kind, handsome man do this to you? Was he trying to make you fail?

Changbin met your eyes, and a smile graced his lips. You snapped your mouth shut, feeling your face warm. He definitely just saw you gaping at him like a fish. Totally smooth.

“I know some of you may be worried, and some of you may not,” he said. “And if you’re one of the former, I would love for you to stay after class and talk to me about it. I know you all have the ability to pass this test. Every answer to every question is in your notes. Study those as hard as you can, and you’ll be more than fine.”

You could feel your heart rate picking up as you thought back on the dozens of pages of notes you’d taken over the past four classes. You couldn’t think  of anything that made sense. How were you supposed to take a test and pass? Let alone one that was worth so much of your grade?

For the rest of the lecture, you could scarcely pay attention as you continued to spiral. Clearly, you should have just taken a different class, hot teacher be damned. To be fair, you hadn’t expected the class to be this hard. 

As the class ended, you started packing up in a daze. You had a morphology course - one of your favorites - next, but you were thinking about skipping it so you could study for this test instead. Even a week straight of studying probably wouldn’t be enough for you to pass, so you needed all the time you could get.

You were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice someone calling your name, over and over again.

“Miss English Major! Miss!” Changbin finally called, and your head whipped around to face him, your cheeks warming at the nickname.

“I-sorry, what’s up?” You stumbled over your words, trying not to look completely flustered. From his look of understanding, you knew you had failed.

“Would you like to study with me tonight?” he asked gently, approaching your desk. 

“Ah, why would you think I need extra studying?” you asked quickly.

“I have eyes,” he said with a quiet laugh. “And you look like you’re about to pass out. Really, the test isn’t going to be hard. But like I said earlier, I’m more than willing to tutor any student who needs help. I have the time.”

You sighed. “Am I really that obvious? Or do I just look like an idiot?”

Changbin shrugged, moving so he stood in front of you. “I can tell you’re really smart. You just don’t believe in yourself. So… I’ll see you at six tonight? I’ll bring donuts?”

You relented, grinning. “If you bring glazed donuts, I’m in.”

“Are there any other kinds?” he winked. “See you tonight.”

Oh, you were so done for.

——————————

You arrived at 5:55pm, terrified of being late, or wasting Changbin’s time. You assumed he was so busy already, and you didn’t want him waiting on you.

Seeing as he wasn’t there yet, you just stood awkwardly at the side of the room, unsure if you should pull up a seat by his desk, or just wait for him.

He arrived a few minutes later, carrying a cardboard box from the campus donut shop. Your heart leaped when you saw him, dressed in a casual black t-shirt, zip-up hoodie, and jeans. He would have fit right in as a student. 

“Oh, you’re already here.” Changbin grinned at you, and your face heated. He was so hot when he smiled. 

“I’m always on time,” you pointed out.

“You’re always late to my class,” Changbin chuckled, shaking his head.

“Maybe it’s because I don’t like your class,” you countered.

“Ouch.” He came to sit at his desk. “Here, sit with me.” He motioned to the chair next to his. 

“So, what would you like more help with?” He asked when you got settled.

You sighed. “What don’t I need help with?”

He frowned, tilting his head. “Am I really that bad of a teacher?”

“No!” you said hurriedly. “Math just really isn’t my thing. I probably made a mistake taking a mid-level class. Everything is just really over my head. It’s not your fault.”

“Well, we can start from the beginning,” Changbin conceded. He glanced down at your notebook, which was covered in your neat but hurried scrawl, and even a few shitty doodles at the top of each page. “May I?” he asked, pointing at them.

You nodded, pushing them towards him. 

He took it, and flipped back to the beginning. “You’ve taken really thorough notes,” he complimented, and you blushed. At least you were doing something right.

“I’m trying to pay attention to you.” You smiled weakly.

Changbin started pointing at things in your notes, trying to explain them as thoroughly as possible. You had to admit, he was very good at dumbing down every concept, and even gave you examples of when they might be used in the real world. That tended to be your struggle with math. None of it made any practical sense, it was so abstract. At least with words, they always correlated to a real-world thing, or concept. Math was filled with what-ifs, and you hated that.

As he pointed at your notes, he moved closer and closer to you, his arm brushing yours. Your skin tingled from the touch, almost desperate to feel more of him. His arms were so firm, entirely made of muscle. Of course, you had known that from hours of staring at him. But being this close to him, getting to touch him, was intoxicating, making your mouth water. If only you could reach out and-

“Are you even listening to me?” Changbin’s voice snapped you out of your lusting. 

“Yes! I was just uhh…” you paused, unsure what to say.

He raised an eyebrow at you, pushing his glasses higher up his nose. 

“Ah, no I wasn’t. I’m sorry.” You ducked your head, unable to meet his gaze.

He turned his chair to face yours. “I’m sorry, this is all probably way too much all at once. I should have realized that,” he apologized. “Maybe we should take a five? Then we’ll get back into it.”

You brightened, nodding quickly. “Yeah, that would be great.”

He grinned, sitting back in his chair. “You’re nothing like my usual math students, you know.”

You raised your brows at him. “That sounds like a badly veiled insult, Professor Seo.”

His eyes darkened for a moment at the way you said his name, but he seemed to shake it off immediately. “No, it’s just an observation. You’re very different.”

“How?” Your eyes drifted over to the box of donuts, which sat untouched next to you.

He shook his head at you. “Because of stuff like that. You’re very easily distracted. Just have one, or I’ll never get your attention back.”

You smiled apologetically, before tearing the box open and grabbing a glazed donut. “I can’t believe you actually brought these for me.”

“For you??” Changbin exclaimed. “Nah, I wanted them. You were just an excuse. Pass one here.”

You glared, taking a bite. “Okay that’s rude. I would think you cared more about your struggling student.” You handed him a donut.

He laughed at that before taking a bite too. “Of course I care about you.”

You gazed into his eyes, watching the way his throat moved as he swallowed. Your eyes flickered back up to his, wondering if there might, just might, be a hidden meaning behind that. 

Before you could stop yourself, or fully process what you were doing, you felt yourself moving imperceptibly closer to him, like there was an invisible force pulling you. 

Your face was a mere foot away from his, your eyes remaining locked with his. “How else am I different from the others, Professor?”

He groaned, a low sound deep in his throat, and you saw a flame flicker to life in his eyes. A flame of desire, you wondered? Did he want you just as badly as you wanted him? Had he thought about you in the same way you thought about him? Your stomach twisted with desire, hot and potent. 

Your hand reached out to grip his thigh, desperate to touch him. But before you could make contact, his hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

“What-“ you began.

“We can’t do this,” he said. His voice was quiet, but firm. 

“What are you…?” you trailed off, your heart thudding so hard your head hurt. Was he rejecting you right now? After that almost animalistic noise came from him, just by making eye contact?  A noise that would most definitely be used to fuel your nightly desires? “But you were just flirting with me!”

“I was,” he paused, licking his lips. You wanted to know what that tongue tasted like. “But I can’t. You’re my student, and it was incredibly unprofessional of me. I’m sorry.”

You pulled your hand from his grip, moving your chair away from him, fighting to keep your voice steady. “Yes, you’re right. Let’s continue studying.”

“Okay.” Changbin nodded, picking up your notebook again. “Onto lesson two.”

You continued the study session for another hour, before bidding him farewell. He promised that he would continue to help you study for two hours every night, and you agreed. He also demanded that you take the rest of the donuts home, but you refused. It felt wrong, somehow, to take something from him. 

You walked back to your dorm, body burning with shame.

——————————

For the rest of the week, you dutifully attended each study session with Changbin, carefully avoiding any kind of physical closeness with him. You knew that if you got near him again, you wouldn’t be able to control yourself. 

Your thoughts were plagued by images of him. The way he smirked playfully at you when you got a question wrong, the glimmer of pride in his eyes when you got one right. His strong arms as he leaned over your notes, and his tight ass and muscular legs when he stood in front of the chalkboard to write every morning, or give lectures. 

No matter how hard you tried to ignore your growing feelings for him, you couldn’t help it. Every night, you found yourself desperately touching yourself to the thought of him doing unspeakable things to you, imagining it was him ravaging you instead of your vibrator. Him straddling you from above as he pounded into you with that thick cock, instead of your fingers. At this point, you knew it would never happen, but the forbidden, risky aspect turned you on even more.

Finally, the day of the test had arrived. Your heart had been racing with adrenaline. The night before, you had left this very classroom, saying goodnight to Changbin before cramming even more. 

“Good luck, Miss.” He’d smiled at you on your way out.

“Thanks, I’m really gonna need it,” you had replied.

“No you don’t,” Changbin said as you left.

The test had been shockingly easy. You weren’t sure if it was because Changbin purposely made the questions simpler than usual, or if his study sessions really had helped. But you whizzed through that test like never before. It gave you hope that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t absolute shit at math after all.

Now, Changbin was passing out the test results. You hoped your gut instinct that you’d done well was right.

He placed the test on your desk, shooting you a faint smile.

“Well done, Miss English Major,” he whispered, so quiet you could barely hear him.

You peeked at the top right corner, almost afraid of what it said. 

92%.

Your head whipped around to face Changbin, who was now a couple of desks down. 

Holy shit. Not only had you passed, but you passed with an A! How was that possible??

You wanted to run over to him and leap into his arms, but you had to hold yourself back. No one, including Changbin, wanted that.

You would wait until the end of class to celebrate.

As you packed up your bags, Changbin cleared his throat. 

You looked up to see him motioning you towards him. Of course, you couldn’t help but obey.

After the other students had left, you approached him, a huge smile plastered across your face.

“I passed!” you exclaimed, suddenly breathless. “I-I can’t believe it! Thank you.”

He shook his head, unable to hide his smile. “It was all you. You studied harder than I’ve ever seen any student do before. You earned it.”

Before you could stop yourself, you wrapped your arms around his midsection and hugged him.

“Seriously, thank you,” you said quietly. “I’ve never gotten an A on a math test, ever.”

Changbin laughed, and for a split second you thought he was going to hug you back. His arms raised to grab your waist, and your heart thudded in anticipation. You had thought about what it would feel like to be in Changbin’s arms countless times.

But instead, he pushed you away. His movements were gentle, respectful even, like he didn’t want to hurt your feelings.

It did quite the opposite. It stung more to know that he wasn’t an asshole who just wanted a girl's attention, but he thought he was doing the right thing in rejecting you for a second time.

“Well… thanks again,” you said lamely, moving away from him. “I’ll see you next week.”

You practically ran out of the room, tears stinging your eyes. You wouldn’t let yourself get hurt again.

——————————

Changbin stood at the front of his classroom, preparing for that day’s lesson. It was two months into the semester, and about time for another test. The last one had been almost a month and a half ago, and his students were beginning to get complacent. It was his job to make sure they didn’t get too comfortable.

It had also been about a month and a half since he’d properly talked to you. Ever since you had thanked him for all his help on that first math test, you had avoided him. 

He wished you wouldn’t. But you were right to. He would have done the same thing if roles were reversed.

He had rejected you, twice. Those glorious five days tutoring you were some of the best times he’d had in his entire three years as a professor. He’d never met someone half as bright, witty, or funny as you. 

Or as beautiful. 

Let’s be real, fucking sexy.

That first day of class, when he’d turned around and met your gaze, still stuck with him. Those curious yet guarded eyes of yours instantly drew him in, and he’d had to inwardly slap himself just to focus on his job. He’d never let anyone distract him from work before, let alone one of his students. He’d worked hard to get where he was, and ever since he got the job, he’d made a promise to himself never to date a student. From watching his colleagues, it never ended well.

And no one had ever made him question that promise. Until you.

Everything about you intoxicated him. The way you rolled your eyes at his cringey jokes, that little crease in your left eyebrow when you were focusing extra hard, the dimple on your left cheek when you smiled. Your determination to be good at whatever you put your mind to. And something he hadn’t expected: your desire to please him. 

In a strictly professional sense, of course. Or so he convinced himself. Until you two had almost kissed. And he’d told you no. That had to be in the top five of his stupidest moments, and he had a lot of those.

For that whole week, he’d found himself wishing that you would try again. He couldn’t stop thinking about you. When he went home to his empty apartment, he found solace in his hand, thoughts solely on you. About the way it would feel if it was your hand instead of his, gripping his shaft as you stroked him up and down, those nimble fingers knowing exactly where to place more pressure, where to be gentle. That pretty mouth of yours wrapped around him, taking his thick cock to the hilt. And he would cum to the thought of you, knowing that he couldn’t have you.

Even when you hugged him after the test, he still rebuffed your advances. Why? What the hell was wrong with him? He wanted you, you wanted him. It was legal, you were both adults. And yet, he had still rejected you. 

He still thought about you, obsessively so. The more he came to the fantasy of you, the more he became reliant on your presence, craved it, really. He looked forward to seeing you everyday in class, even if you didn’t speak a word to, or barely looked at him. But your beautiful self walking to his class by yourself, gave him a sense of security.

Today, he arrived at class, eagerly awaiting your presence. When he turned around to face the door, slightly concerned because even two minutes into class, you hadn’t arrived, his stomach quite literally dropped.

Because you weren’t alone. 

——————————

Hwang Hyunjin was the smoothest man alive.

You’d noticed him sitting a few seats away from you since the first day of class. He was incredibly smart, but tended to keep his mouth shut. He was always busy writing or drawing something on his notes instead of paying attention, and when you weren’t busy staring at Changbin, you found yourself watching him instead.

The two of you had been paired up for a class discussion, and he mentioned that he loved art. Being the creative that you were, you asked him what he liked to draw, and he showed you some of the doodles he did during class. They were good, really good. 

When he asked you out for coffee a month into the semester, you’d had no choice but to say yes. And you had a great time. 

It was clear that Changbin had no interest in you, so who could blame you for wanting to spend time with another hot guy? Who cared if you still thought about him in the privacy of your dorm, late at night? That was just a phase. Every college girl had a crush on her professor at some point, right? 

You and Hyunjin weren’t really seeing each other, it was casual. So you had never come to class together, or showed any sign that you were interested in each other.

Until today. 

Hyunjin had walked you to class, after treating you to coffee. You were even later than usual, but you found that you didn’t mind.

But when you walked into the classroom, and Hyunjin suddenly grabbed your hand, it was clear that someone minded. They minded a hell of a lot.

Changbin’s eyes seared into the two of you, his gaze roaming over both your and Hyunjin’s faces, before landing on your connected hands. His jaw clenched and unclenched, a vein ticking in his forehead, but he stayed quiet. His fists were pulled tight at his sides, those huge arms flexing in a most mesmerizing way. You couldn’t help but stare. Was there the potential that he was… jealous? 

Of you. Being with another guy.

Before you could think about it further, Changbin cleared his throat, and Hyunjin sat next to you for the first time that semester. 

You should feel giddy that this gorgeous man was sitting with you, but you couldn’t pay attention to anything, except your stud of a professor glaring at Hyunjin like he wanted him to disappear. 

“Today, we’re going to be discussing next week’s test,” Changbin ground out, his teeth gritted so hard you could hear them scraping against one another. “Mister Hwang, do you remember what our first unit after last month’s test was?”

Hyunjin paused next to you, brows furrowed. How was he supposed to remember what you’d learned over a month ago, off the top of his head?

“No Professor, I don’t,” he said evenly. “If I could just check my notes-“

“No, you may not,” Changbin snarled, his eyes narrowed as he stared Hyunjin down. “Clearly, you weren’t paying close enough attention.”

“Professor!” you exclaimed, blood pounding. Why was he targeting Hyunjin all of a sudden? You thought he liked Hyunjin.

“What?” Changbin sneered. “Trying to protect your boyfriend?”

“Just don’t.” You rolled your eyes, looking away from him. 

For the rest of the class, Changbin continued to pick on Hyunjin, calling on him for the hardest review questions, and actually laughing at him when he couldn’t remember.

Finally, when class was over, the two of you made to leave. 

“Miss, please stay behind,” Changbin practically growled, gaze hot on your back.

“Will you be okay?” Hyunjin asked, glancing between the two of you.

You nodded. “Yeah, don’t worry about me. I’ll see you later.”

Hyunjin followed the rest of the class out, casting one last look back at you.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

You stood behind your desk, staring at Changbin. He stared back at you, expression unreadable. Was he upset? Of course he was. He wasn’t very good at hiding that during class. 

He walked to the door and slammed it shut, the force startling you. But when he clicked the lock in place, your chest seized up. What was he doing? 

“Come here.” His voice was soft, yet you could hear him clearly. His face looked calm, but you could see the fire in his eyes as he gazed at you. Your breath caught in your throat as you wordlessly obeyed, coming to stand in front of him.

Was this really going to happen? Was he-

Before you could formulate a proper prediction, his lips were on yours. His hands fumbled at your waist with a desperation you didn’t expect, even in your dirtiest fantasies. He picked you up, grabbing your ass roughly as his plush lips forced your mouth open, sucking and biting with enough pressure that would leave marks in the morning. 

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Changbin growled against you between kisses. Your hands slid into his hair, clinging to him as you kissed him back with equal strength. 

“What took you so damn long?” you gasped, pressing your tongue into his mouth and rolling your hips against him.

He groaned, the sound low and guttural, before setting you on his desk as gently as he could. He slid a finger under your tank top strap, pushing it down slowly, his gaze devouring your skin rapturously.

“I’ve been so good, so in control,” he breathed as if you were torturing him, his mouth coming to land against the shell of your ear. You shivered at the sensation. “Until today, when you decided to bring that poor Hwang boy along with you. What are you, boyfriend and girlfriend?”

You shook your head quickly. “N-no, it’s casual,” your voice shook despite yourself. “We’ve just been hanging out.”

“You like that he’s willing to give you attention when I wouldn’t?” He leaned down, nipping at your shoulder and collarbone. “Has he fucked you?”

You moaned softly, closing your eyes. “No, of course not,” you whispered. “And even if he had, why would you give a shit? I made a move on you, and you fucking rejected me, twice!”

Changbin let go of you, stepping back. For the first time, he looked embarrassed. Good, as he should. 

“I'm sorry, Princess.” He slid a hand down your arm, skating his fingers across your skin. “I thought I was making the right decision. But… I want you all to myself. Is that so bad?”

You glared at him. But no matter how long you tried to play hard to get, you knew damn well how this was going to end. You needed him too badly.

“Well, you better prove how much you want me, then.”

His mouth curled into a smirk, and your core dampened at the sight. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He pushed you back against his desk, shoving your legs apart, before tugging your denim shorts down your legs and ripping your panties clean in half.

“Changbin!” you gasped. Those were your nice panties, too.

“What? You won’t be needing them,” he smirked, holding them to his nose and inhaling a hungry breath, before tossing them away. “And from now on, you will call me Professor, not Changbin.”

You gaped at him for a moment, before you realized he was watching you expectantly.

“Y-yes… Professor,” you said weakly.

He smiled, kissing your cheek in an uncharacteristically tender way. “That’s my good girl. Now I’ll make you feel the best you’ve ever felt.”

He traveled down the length of your body, pressing kisses to your bare thighs as he went, admiring every inch of you. Your breaths came in short gasps as you laid in anticipation. You didn’t know much, but you were sure that Changbin was experienced when it came to sex.

As he gazed in appreciation at your soaked cunt, he tore his glasses off and set them on the desk, licking his lips. “Gonna need to get close and personal, huh Princess?”

Oh yeah, he was most definitely experienced. 

But nothing could prepare you for the sensation of Changbin’s tongue against your center. He pressed his mouth flat against your clit, swiping his tongue up and down in broad strokes. He covered your entire pussy with his warm, wet mouth before sucking and licking in earnest. 

“Holy shit, yes,” you gasped, your eyes widening as your hips jerked up against his movements.

He grabbed your waist to stop you, his tongue fucking in and out of your cunt as his lips pressed against the sensitive nerves above it. You moaned, your hand finding purchase in his hair as your vision sparked in and out, stars flashing before your eyes.

“Fuck, faster, please,” you begged, tugging his hair as you tried to pull him closer.

“What’s my name again, Princess?” he rasped against your core, his voice interrupted by his continued slurping. 

“P-professor, please,” you whimpered, gazing at him with wide, pleading eyes.

“Fuck, how could I say no to you, Princess,” he snarled against you, yanking your legs open even further as his tongue moved impossibly faster, two of his fingers sliding into your pussy, adding even more squelching sounds to the mix.

The addition of his fingers nearly sent you spinning over the edge, your free hand gripping the side of his desk as your legs shook, your thighs trying to squeeze his head.

“Stay nice and spread for me, Angel,” he sucked hard on your clit, and you sobbed his name over and over, clutching at him like your life depended on it, your entire body vibrating.

“Professor, I-I’m gonna cum, please let me cum!” you begged, squeezing your eyes shut as you ground your hips up against him, this time Changbin allowing you.

“Cum for me, Princess, let me hear you,” Changbin ordered, pressing his tongue in just the right way against your throbbing pussy.

With a strangled cry, you rode out your orgasm against his mouth and fingers as he thrusted them in harder and harder, working you through your release as you crested the peak and came tumbling over, your whole body falling onto the desk in a trembling, sobbing mess.

“Was that good enough for you, Princess?” Changbin licked his lips as he gazed at you smugly, coming to his feet and gazing down at you.

You rolled your eyes, standing up to meet his eyes properly. “It was amazing, Professor,” you murmured against his lips, before kissing him forcefully. The taste of you lingered on his lips.

He kissed you back hungrily, his fingers traveling back between your legs to rub your clit gently, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You licked his bottom lip, grinding against his fingers as you moaned into him. 

“Let me return the favor,” you whispered, pushing him against the desk this time, before kneeling in front of him.

“Let’s just hope you’re better with your mouth than you are at math,” Changbin teased. But you could see the desire flaming in his gaze as he caressed your hair with a rough hand, fully pushing you down onto the floor.

“You don’t have to worry about that, Professor,” you said sweetly, and he groaned, eyes flickering shut.

“No more dawdling Angel, open up.”

You unzipped his black work pants, tugging them down to his knees. Even with his dark gray boxers on, you could tell he was huge, and already hard. Pulling his underwear off, his cock sprang free, angry and red, leaking precum.

Your eyes widened, and Changbin kicked his pants to the side, smirking down at you. 

“Big enough for you, Princess?”

“Perfect, Professor,” you breathed, gripping the base with one hand.

“Ah shit,” Changbin gritted his teeth, his hand already tangled in your hair. “Don’t make me wait too long, Princess. I’ve already been waiting for months.”

You giggled softly, sticking your tongue out and kitten licking the pretty pink tip. He was quite thick, so thick that your hand could barely fit around him. He was about seven inches long, with a pretty vein running along the right side. Your core throbbed at the sight, imagining how well he would fill you up. 

“Fuck,” he snarled, thrusting into your hand impatiently, a bead of precum dribbling onto your skin. “Are you asking me to punish you, Princess?”

You felt your core clench at his words, and you almost hoped he would just flip you over and spank you for disobeying him.

But that could happen later. Instead, you slid his entire length into your mouth, taking him so deep your nose hit his hips. Coarse brown hair tickled your face, and you shut your eyes. 

“Holy-“ Changbin choked out as you began sucking hard and fast, using your hand to rub the base where your mouth couldn’t reach. Your saliva instantly became sloppy, running down his cock and onto his waist.

“Oh fuck yeah, just like that,” he grunted, tugging your hair roughly as he thrust his hips against you, driving his cock further into your mouth. “I bet you just love being my little cockslut, don’t you Princess? You like me using you like this.”

“Mm,” you moaned, sending vibrations up his cock. He shuddered at the sensation, his huge, muscular legs flexing next to you. One of your hands gripped his thigh, the other squeezing his taut ass as you fucked your mouth up and down on him so he didn’t even have to move.

“Oh shit, you do know what you’re doing, don’t you, Slut?” He ran his hand through your hair, and you felt a tinge of pride shoot through you. A thin line of tears dotted your lash line and your jaw hurt, but you didn’t care. He was impressed with you, and that was all that mattered. 

“Only for you, Professor,” you gasped as you took a quick breath, before sliding him back into your mouth. Your hands moved to cup his balls, and he growled, loud and animalistic, against you.

“Fuck Angel, you’re such a good girl for your professor, aren’t you?” he moaned, pulling your hair into two makeshift ponytails as he started fucking against you in earnest.

You started to choke on his harsh ministrations, but you didn’t want him to stop. Your core was so wet, arousal was dripping onto the ground. 

“I’m gonna cum, Princess,” Changbin growled, as his hips stilled. “But I don’t want to cum in your mouth. I want to breed that little pussy of yours. How does that sound?”

“I-it sounds amazing, Professor,” you breathed as you pulled his rock-hard cock out of your mouth.

He grinned, yanking you into another bruising kiss. “That’s my good little Cockslut,” he murmured, picking you up and setting you back on the desk. “This is exactly how I imagined fucking you for the first time. You look so beautiful lying there, all wet and ready for me.”

You whimpered softly, shooting a seductively innocent look at him.

“Fuck, do you know what you do to me, Angel?” He closed his eyes, his body trembling at the sight before him. “Even better than my imagination.”

“You’ve thought about me, Professor?” you said faux-shyly, grabbing his hand and placing it against your core.

“Of course I have, Princess,” Changbin chuckled, opening his eyes again as his fingers roamed over your clit gently. You shivered at his touch. “Who wouldn’t think about ruining a perfect girl like you?”

“I'm not a virgin, Professor,” you pointed out. 

“I know, but you’re perfect,” he responded, stepping closer. “Just look at you.”

“Professor?” you asked softly, gazing at him. “Can I ask just one thing?”

“Anything.”

“Can you take your shirt off?”

Changbin’s eyes flickered in amusement. “Do you like my body, Princess?”

You nodded vigorously. “I love your body. I think about it all the time.”

“I like the sound of that,” he murmured, leaning over and pressing harsh kisses against your neck. “What do you think about?”

“Fuck me, then I’ll tell you,” you breathed against him, starting to undo his shirt buttons.

He tugged the shirt over his head hurriedly, before coming to hover over you again, those perfect, muscular arms of your dreams caging you in. You whimpered at the sensation alone, pulling him closer to you so you could grab his cock, stroking him a few times.

“Fuck yes, Princess,” Changbin choked out, before lining himself up outside of your core. “I need to be inside you right now.”

“I need you inside me too, Professor,” you begged, moving your hips back and forth against his hard cock, wet squelching sounds ensuing as his cock rubbed through your slit. You threw your head back at the overwhelming sensation, moaning into his shoulder.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he pulled your face up and kissed you once. Then, screwing up his eyes, he slid his entire cock into you in one harsh thrust.

“O-oh shit!” you cried, eyes widening and hands coming to grab his broad shoulders. He filled you perfectly, his girth stretching you deliciously, that vein rubbing against your walls just right. “Fuck Professor, you feel so good inside me.”

“God, you feel heavenly Princess,” he croaked, his voice hoarse. “Can I move? Please, tell me I can move.”

“Please move, now,” you gasped, fingernails digging into his back. “Don't be gentle with me, Professor. I can take it.”

“Yeah? We’ll see about that, Angel.” Before you could say anything else, he pulled all the way out, leaving you feeling incredibly empty, before thrusting back in with all his strength. 

You squealed, fingers scrambling for purchase against him, as he pounded in and out of your tight, wet pussy over and over, filthy noises filling the classroom. 

You whimpered against his neck, pressing harsh kisses against him as he thrusted in and out, balls slapping your pussy as he went harder and faster. His cock slammed against the spongy part inside of you, causing you to cry out and clench around him.

“Ah shit, Princess, ease up a bit!” he grunted, nipping your neck as his hips stuttered against yours.

“Y-you just feel so good,” you sobbed. “Please fuck me harder, don’t stop, please, Professor.”

Changbin listened, continuing to hit that sensitive spot over and over again until you were a babbling mess, unable to say anything except “Professor”.

“Fuck baby, can you stand?” Changbin demanded into your ear.

“Y-yes Professor,” you breathed, and before you could stop him, he was carrying you over to the chalkboard, and setting you down, so your face was towards the board, ass presented to him.

“Well shit, don't you look like a treat,” he whispered, slapping your ass with a calloused hand, before trapping you between his arms once more, his mouth against your neck. 

You gasped at the stinging sensation of his hand against your skin, but it wasn't fully because of the pain. Him slapping you felt good. What did you have to do for him to do it again?

His fingers traveled between your legs again, feeling the dripping wetness that gathered there. You felt him smirk against you.

“Did my Princess like it when I spanked her? Does she like it when she gets punished?”

You nodded vigorously, closing your eyes. Was he going to think you were disgusting for liking something so violent? 

Changbin started chuckling, and you glanced back at him. Did he find this funny?

“I might have underestimated you, Sweetheart,” his hands traveled up to your breasts and squeezed, making you squeal. “I guess you were right. You’re more of a whore than I thought.”

“N-no Professor, I’m a good girl,” you gasped, rubbing your ass against him as you begged for him to hit you again. “I just need you so bad, please.”

“You want me to hit you again?” Changbin snickered. “Okay, I can hit you again. Anything for my princess.”

He stepped away from you, leaving your skin cold. You missed his hulking presence warming you, his huge arms caging your body. 

You watched with wide eyes as he stepped back to his desk and picked something up. What was he doing? He couldn’t leave you hanging like this.

But when you saw what he had in his hand, you knew he very much was not leaving you hanging. He was just getting started.

“A ruler?” you said softly, staring at the wood strip in his hand. Your core pulsed at the sight, causing more arousal to slide down your thigh. Fuck, you wanted it.

“You said you wanted to get slapped, didn’t you, Princess?” he challenged.

You nodded, trying to hide your desire. If Changbin saw how much you needed this, he might deny you.

“Yes, Professor,” you responded, not moving from your position at the chalkboard.

“Good, Angel,” he approached you with a satisfied grin on his face. “So, are you ready for your test?”

“Test?!” you squeaked. You hadn’t expected that. You’d hoped he would just slap you with the ruler a few times, then fuck you silly.

“You’re going to have a math test in a few weeks, aren’t you?” He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you want me to tutor you still?”

You nodded furiously. You would fail without him.

“Well, consider this our first session.” He came to stand behind you, running the ruler up and down your thigh a few times. 

You shivered despite yourself. You would do anything he wanted at this point.

“So, answer this problem, Princess. The axes of two right circular cylinders of radius A intersect at a right angle. Find the volume of the solid of intersection of the cylinders.”

You gasped at him, speechless. You had no idea what any of that meant. Solid of intersection? You were an English major, for god’s sake!

“I-I don’t know Professor!” you whispered, body quivering as you waited for his response.

Changbin tutted quietly, pacing back and forth behind you. You tried to watch him, but he kept going in and out of your line of sight.

“What a shame.” His voice was dangerously low. 

Suddenly, the ruler came slashing through the air, landing across the center of your ass. You let out a loud gasp, covering your mouth before you could curse or yell. 

“Chang- Professor, what the hell?” you exclaimed, whipping around to face him.

“Did that stir up any potential answers?” Changbin said smoothly, ignoring your protest. “Please turn back around, Angel. We're not done yet.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but you caught that steely look in his eyes, and obeyed. 

“Well?” he prompted. “Anything?”

“N-no, Professor,” you said meekly. “We haven’t learned anything half that difficult yet.”

This time, as the ruler made contact with your ass again, you were prepared. You bit your lip so hard it almost drew blood, but you had to admit, it felt… nice. The stinging sensation it left after the pain was gone was incredible. 

“Fine, if you can't come up with even a guess, how about this. What is the mathematical perception of the gradient said to be?”

You paused, thinking the question over. You knew Changbin had talked about this in a lesson at some point, but it had been a while ago…

“Is it tangent?” you said with a little smile. You knew the answer was wrong but… you also didn't mind.

“I’m sorry, Princess,” Changbin grinned, and the stinging pain of the ruler raced across your skin.

You let out a stifled moan, squeezing your eyes shut as hard as you could. Oh god, did Changbin hear that? He was going to think you were such a whore.

Changbin set the ruler down on his desk and slid a hand around your waist, breaths coming hard and fast against your neck. You whimpered softly, unable to look back at him. 

“I knew you liked that, you little Pain Slut,” he snarled into your ear, nipping the lobe. “You're my little Pain Slut, aren’t you?”

“Y-yes, only yours!” you exclaimed. “P-please Professor, fuck me again.”

“Mm, you're just insatiable aren’t you?” he snickered, his hand coming down onto your ass cheek, sharp and hard. “Now say thank you, Professor.”

You cried out, your core soaking wet. “Th-thank you Professor!” You forced out through the blinding pleasure.

His hand came down on your other cheek. “Again.”

“Thank you, Professor!” you moaned, turning your face to him and pressing your lips against his. 

He didn't pull away, as the hand he used to spank you wound around your leg, lifting it up so your body was still facing the chalkboard, but your lips were attached to his. 

“I’m gonna fuck you like this now, Angel, down and dirty. I’ll bet you like it like this, don't you? Seducing your poor professor, and letting him have his way with you in his classroom. That's exactly what you wanted, wasn't it?”

“No, I didn't mean to seduce you,” you mumbled against his mouth, as he positioned his hard, heavy cock outside your entrance. “You're just so hot and smart, and I wanted you so bad. But you kept rejecting me so I gave up, remember?”

“How do I know that little boyfriend wasn't just part of your plan to get me to change my mind?” Changbin challenged, finally breaking the kiss. 

“Well, if it was, it worked, didn't it?” You teased him. “Now are you going to fuck me or not?”

Changbin growled deep in his throat, thrusting his hips slowly against you, running his cock through your wet folds. “I’ll fuck you when I’m ready to fuck you, Princess. Not sure you deserve it, with all the stunts you’ve pulled. And you didn't even get that easy math problem right.”

You giggled softly. “If I get it right, will you fuck me properly? Nice and rough?”

He paused, like he was pondering the question. “Sure, Angel. What’s the right answer?”

You turned around, pressing your lips against his ear gently. You watched in satisfaction as he shivered. Thank god he was holding your leg up, or you would be numb by now. “It’s the slope,” you whispered to him, lips curling in a smile. You knew you were right.

“Mm, you knew the right answer the whole time, didnt you, Slut?” Changbin shook his head at you, a hungry glint in his eyes. “But you were a good girl, listening to your Professor so well. So I guess you get a reward.”

“Yes please, Professor.” You immediately started begging at the prospect of his cock inside of you. “Please fuck me now.”

“It takes a lot of self control to stay away from you,” Changbin groaned. “Self control that I clearly do not have.” 

This time, he thrusted into you nice and slow, one inch at a time. You gasped loudly as he shoved you up against the chalkboard, still holding your leg up, as he began pounding in and out of you mercilessly. 

“Fuck, this pussy was made for me, Angel,” he hissed into your hair, breathing deeply as he did so. “So tight and wet, squeezing me perfectly. You hear that? This pussy is all mine.”

“Yes, it’s all yours,” you wailed, fucking your hips back against his, forcing his cock to impale you to the hilt. “You feel so good inside of me, Professor.”

“Mm, hell yeah I do baby.” His huge arm wrapped all the way around your waist, trapping you entirely as he hammered in and out, the lewd sounds of his length thrusting turning you on even more.

“Fuck, Professor please touch me!” you begged, grabbing his arm that was holding your leg up and sliding it towards your clit. 

“You’re such a greedy little girl, aren’t you?” he sneered, pressing rough kisses up and down your collarbone, sucking harsh bruises along your soft skin. “I can’t deny you though, can I?”

His fingers slid over your sensitive nerves and rubbed in rushed, frantic circles as his hips pounded against yours, causing the entire chalkboard to shake and rattle. 

“O-oh yes Professor just like that,” you panted, your legs nearly failing as he turned your entire body to jelly. 

“Don't give up on me now, Princess,” Changbin warned as he spun you around and picked you up, not removing his cock from your throbbing pussy. “You don’t cum until I do, you hear?”

“Of course, Professor,” you whimpered helplessly, the new position hitting spots inside of you you hadn’t known even existed. “Please go harder!”

“Just for you, baby,” Changbin ground out, and he started bouncing you up and down on his huge length.

The vein on his cock slid against your nerves addictively as you wrapped your shaking legs around his waist, clinging to his beefy arms desperately. Your core throbbed as you tried to be a good girl and hold your orgasm back, but it was coming.

“Please Professor, let me cum!” you pleaded, pressing kisses up and down his huge pecs, sobbing into his chest. “I’m so close, I’ve been so good!”

Changbin grunted against you as he bullied his cock deeper and deeper into your cunt, hitting your g-spot over and over while you pleaded incoherently to please, please let you cum.

“Shit, okay, cum for me baby,” he hissed.

You didn't need to be asked twice. Your hips shook against him so violently you thought you were going to pass out. Stars blinked in and out of your vision as you cried, “Professor, please!” once, your pussy clenching around his cock like a vice, as he pounded his cock infinitely faster. His fingers pressed against your clit, and you were done for. You exploded around him in a puddle of whimpers and moans, clutching onto him for dear life.

“Holy shit baby, you’re so fucking hot,” Changbin panted, squeezing his eyes shut, his thrusts becoming more jerky and unstable. “I’m so fuckin’ close, Princess, gonna cum inside that slutty little pussy of yours, yeah?”

“Oh fuck, please give me your cum Professor!” you begged, moving your hips in time with his. “Want you to breed me like the good girl I am!”

“Fuck Angel, you really want it?” Changbin hissed, his hips stuttering as his lips smashed up against yours again. “You wanna feel my hot cum inside you?”

“Yes Professor, please, I need it,” you breathed against his mouth, biting his bottom lip and sucking it into your mouth. 

Changbin thrusted sloppily in and out a few more times, his breaths stilted and hoarse, before halting entirely inside of you. You felt his warm cum fill your pussy, ropes and ropes of hot, sticky liquid, and you let out a shaky moan, closing your eyes at the sensation.

As he was about to put you down and pull out, you shook your head, gripping his arms.

“P-please, stay inside.” Your legs tightened around his waist. His softening cock felt so good, keeping his warm cum inside you. You didn’t want him to let go, not yet.

“You like me cockwarming you, Princess?” Changbin’s cock stiffened at your actions, and you nodded.

“You feel so good inside of me,” you sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“I bet I do,” he said cockily, and you slapped his arm.

“Way to ruin the moment, Changbin,” you glared.

He laughed, finally letting go of you and setting you back on the ground. 

“I'm kidding, baby.” He pressed his lips against yours, much more tender this time. You melted against him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close. 

“I like the confidence.” You giggled against his lips, before breaking apart. “I should probably go. I've got another class in an hour, and I don’t want to walk in looking like this.”

“I wouldn't want that either,” Changbin observed. “You might get dress-coded. Or arrested.”

When you were both dressed and semi-cleaned up, you waved goodbye to Changbin.

Changbin waved back, a little smirk on that handsome face of his. 

“So, we on for another study session tonight?”

You smirked, biting your bottom lip before replying: “Yes, Professor.”

laska's note — wow, this one shot took me forever to finally finish! but i wanted it to be perfect you y'all, so i spent a long time figuring out the plot and exactly how i wanted everything to go. i really hope you enjoyed it, because i'm kinda proud of how this turned out. i'm sorry for the slow ass updates, but again it's just supposed to be for fun! hopefully i'll get some more content out soon. leave any comments about what you liked, i love reading them! until next time... 😏💋

[cheolhub]

HEAD — CHOI SOOBIN ࿐

summary. soobin goes down on you for the first time.

wc. 1.1k

warnings. [PLEASE READ] sub!soobin, oral (f. receiving), grinding into mattress lol, dommish?reader, heavy praise (use of good boy), c*m eating — MINORS DNI 18+

note. based off a req from a very long time ago… if u saw the first post, pretend u didn’t lol. i revamped a little :p likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

soobin is eternally grateful for you, really. you’re his first everything. first partner, first kiss, first fuck— his first love.

now he’s going down on you for the first time after hearing from his best friend that eating pussy is the closest thing to paradise. when he asked to so meekly, you were shocked to say the least. the mere thought of his mouth on your cunt had heat spreading from your cheeks to the tips of your ears and you instantly felt arousal pool in your panties.

“can i try eating you out?”

you could see in his face that he wanted it. almost like he’d die if he didn’t get the chance to bury his face in between your thighs. and with a face like that, who were you to deny him?

that’s why you’re on you elbows, legs spread open as you guide him in between your legs.

“okay, baby, just do what feels right. i’ll let you know what feels good.” you tell him sweetly to which he nods eagerly.

he dives in, tongue pressing flat against your wet core and, immediately, his eyebrows knit together. he let’s out a loud moan, the noise vibrating your entirety. he holds his tongue there for a few seconds, relishing your taste.

you shudder out his name, eyes fluttering and his body fills with a sudden… urgency… to hear you call out for him again. his tongue moves again, lapping up your honeyed arousal.

and he does it over and over and over, naturally becoming an ace at eating pussy.

“feels good, angel, just like that.” you moan when his mouth trails up to your clit. “suck right there—yeah, just like that, good boy.” you praise breathily, head falling back as his mouth suctions around your sensitive bud.

the praise causes a short circuit in soobin’s brain and, all of a sudden, it’s like he forgets about everything except how to make you feel good. he’s digging his face into you deeper, tongue flicking at your clit faster, hands squeezing your supple skin harder— he needs more. more of your words, more of your cunt, more of everything.

he’s so lost in your pussy, he doesn’t even realize he’s grinding his messy, aching, incredibly-hard cock into the mattress.

you’re shocked by the sudden onslaught of pleasure that it has you wondering if soobin lied about his pussy-eating experience. “slo-slow down, ‘bin.” you attempt to tell him, feeling your mind slowly escape you.

but your words fall on deaf ears because soobin can’t hear a thing. he’s in heaven, he fucking swears. the friction on his cock and his mouth sucking up your arousal are validation that he is, indeed, in paradise.

when a loud whine rips through his body and vibrates yours, you realize you actually can’t take it anymore, just about ready to combust on his face. “okay— fuck, baby— okay!”

your hand finds his head, tugging at the dark locks to pull him off of you. he resists at first, not wanting to part from what he believes is the best thing he’s ever had in his life, but eventually, he comes up for air.

he whines softly, still fucking himself into the bed.  “lemme keep going.” his fingernails bite into your skin and you’re honestly in awe.

no man has ever begged you to eat you out like this. no man has ever been this desperate for you. ever.

“just let me catch my breath, ‘binnie, was gonna cum too fast,” you pant, pushing his slightly hair back and basking in his beauty.

his swollen, wet lips turn pouty at your words, “w-want you to cum quick, please. p-please, i wanna taste it.”

your pulse accelerates, eyes nearly rolling at his desperation. all you can do is give him a wordless nod, hands coming back to fist at the bedsheets and letting him continue his assault on your cunt.

and that he does, quickly diving in and slurping you up, nose digging into your clit to further stimulate you. his tongue then drags from your drooling hole all the way back up to your swollen bud and that’s when you know this isn’t his first time.

there’s no way. there’s no way choi soobin, a virgin to oral, eats you out better than men with experience. there’s no way he has you this close to cumming this quick.

“fuck, ‘binnie, you’re so fucking good. eating me so fucking well. good boy, you’re so, so good f’me.”

at this point, he’s whining uncontrollably, making the entire experience all the more pleasurable. you swear he’s mumbling “‘m your good boy,” into your cunt, but your jumbled mind could easily be making it all up.

you can feel the bed rocking faster and faster and you can tell he’s close. you are, too, so you urge him.

“‘bin— ‘binnie, keep going. fuck, if you keep going, ‘m-m gonna cum.” you promise. “y-you want that, right? wanna be a good boy—my good boy— ‘n make me cum, yeah?”

you think he nods, but his change in pace confirms that he’s most definitely heard you. he’s erratically tonguing in and out of your cunt while his nose sloppily rubs at your clit. it gets you where you need to be— breathily moaning and tummy tightening while your brain fogs over— you’re going to cum.

and so is he.

it happens for you before you get a chance to warn him. you clench tightly while his tongue wanders and the knot in your stomach unravels. you cum hard. harder than you ever have during oral. white spots fill your vision and your back arches off the ruffled bed sheets while you cry out his name.

it triggers his own orgasm. he's filling up his boxers while he sobs into your pussy, continuing to eat you out through both of your orgasms.

the come down takes awhile for you. soobin insists on licking you clean which slightly overstimulates you, but you let him do so anyway because… well, he claims he needs it.

but when the two of you slowly— but surely— come down from your intense highs, you look at him bewildered.

“soobin, i thought you said you hadn’t done that before?”  you ask, still a bit breathless.

he furrows his eyebrows, “i haven’t! that was my first time.”

“liar.”

“i’m not lying!”

it’s true. you see the genuine look on his face and you can tell it really was his first time.

he smiles cheekily, your arousal still dressing his lips and chin. “does that mean i did good?”

you scoff loudly at the praise-seeking. “you could use a little more practice.”

“okay, no worries. lemme try again, i bet i can make you cum faster this time.”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

[god-has-entered-my-body]

I'll take it one day at a time - M.H x Reader // pt.7

A/N: this took a while to write soz my loves TW: hard drugs especially in this one, please take care of yourself! Also very NSFW minors do not interact. I had a fun time writing it and an even better time listening to @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff (absolute cunt) tell me i'm evil❤️ Enjoy yourself my loves!!

wc: 5k

part eight

It hurts 

Everything hurts. This impossible pain that was eating you alive from the inside out. You missed him, it was like a part of you had been ripped out of you. Since the day you met you hadn't spent more than two or three days apart, and even that was by force of either his parents or yours.

You kept replaying that day in your mind. The way he had looked at you, his eyes wide and teary, begging you to let him explain. Maybe you should have stayed, made him tell you exactly what had happened. What made it all worse was that Ruby was a part of all this. She had given it to him in the first place, the thought made your stomach churn.

The past few days had been spent laying in your bed, curled up in a ball under dirty covers. He had lied to you. The lights were dim, barely illuminating the numerous piles of plates that littered the surfaces in your room. Your mother had tried multiple times to get you out of bed, but you just ignored her, not being able to find the strength. 

Hann had come over, meeting your mother in the process. She had directed him to your room, saying something about your boyfriend leaving you. Completely false, since you hadn't said anything to her. She liked to assume things, taking on whatever narrative helped her feel better.

The door creaked open, light flooding the otherwise dark room. 

His hand brushed against your arm as he sat down at the foot of your bed, his eyes filled with worry. You didn't speak at first, refusing to make eye contact. It hurt too much. 

“Darling, where is Matty?” The pet name made your heart wrench, reminding you of him. The pit in your stomach just dug itself deeper, and it felt like a thousand knives were stabbing into you always. 

You shrug your shoulders, honestly not knowing where he was. Matty had called and called, texting you hundreds of times begging you to talk to him. By the second day, you had already switched off your phone, chucking into a corner, forgotten. 

“No one knows where he is, George is having a proper meltdown.” he continues, his voice slightly shaky, the anxiety in it evident. He tells you how they had tried his house, and it turning up empty. Mattys parents were away, and nobody knew how to get ahold of them. 

“Adam.” was all you could muster, not having spoken in days. The creak of the bed is deafening as you turn around to face him, looking up. “He..” your voice cracks, tears welling up in your eyes. 

“...he did something. Heroin.” you manage to finish your sentence before breaking out into tears again, clutching his arm. “He promised he wouldnt do it again.” the sound of Mattys voice filled your mind, broken promises and lies.

“I believed him.” you force out, your eyes pleading with Hann to say something. 

“Jesus Christ, are you serious?” The question is rhetorical. He knows. 

The day is spent with Adam comforting you through crying fits and feelings of blame, even bringing you water and food. 

You ask for a spliff, that being the only thing you knew would calm your nerves. Not having done anything else since your fight with Matty, you were starting to feel small symptoms of withdrawal. Cold sweat, dizziness, you had even thrown up once or twice into the bin next to your desk.

Hann, like the angel he is, pulls out a baggie of weed, rolling you a spliff. You ask him to open the window to let the smoke out, not quite in the mood for a hotbox. He obliges, and the warm air that is let into the room feels nice. The light helps too, letting you see the absolute state your room was in. 

The haze of the weed calms you down, your crying down to only silent tears rolling down your face as Adam tries to speak to you. You don't listen, his voice sounds distorted and far away. At some point, he gets up to leave, telling you to switch on your phone. When you don't react, he searches for it, finding it underneath a pile of clothes. Turning it on, he sets it onto the nightstand, pressing a comforting kiss to your forehead as the door closes behind him.

You were alone. 

With the spliff almost down to the filter, you chuck it into the rubbish, noticing Adam had cleared the vomit from it. It dwindles out, burning a small whole into the plastic of the fresh bin bag. Staring at the wall for what felt like an eternity, you hear your phone start to ring. 

You think it's Adam calling, making sure you were eating the sandwich he had made you, so you pick up, not bothering to look at the ID. The receiver picks up only silence for the first few seconds of the call, then heavy breaths fill your ears. Matty. 

Your heart jumps at the sound of him breathing on the other end of the line, dread filling you instantly. Something was wrong, you could feel it.

“I-'' he cuts himself off, a laboured groan leaving his lips. “I don't..” 

Something starts in you, and you jump to your feet. Eyes darting around the room to locate your keys, you tug your shoes on while holding the phone between your ear and shoulder. 

“Where are you?” you say, trying to remain calm. “Matty, where the fuck are you.” you repeat, your voice sounding more urgent. 

His answer is barely audible, but you understand. 

“I'm at Carolines..- please- I can't..” the line goes dead, the dial tone as loud as sirens in your head. 

You push past your mother, ignoring her requests to know where you're going. This wasn't the time, you had to get to him, now. 

You were never particularly athletic, always opting to cut P.E in favour of smoking a spliff behind the bushes with one George or Matty. Breathing heavily, you sprint down the street towards the old paper factory, dodging cars and people like it was an olympic sport.

Out of breath and sweaty, the last bolt up the flight of stairs leading to the terrace was difficult, your legs almost giving out on you multiple times. The door to the platform was already open when you finally made it to the top. 

Your heart stops when you see curls peeking out from the side of the sofa, falling limply over the material of the armrest. A soft groan echoes through the air, pained and tired. 

The sight of him will be burned into your mind until the day you die. Matty is half laying half sitting on the cushions, an old pillow holding him up, his skin deathly pale, even more so than usual. Tears run down his face, track marks littering the inside of his forearms. 

“I’m- i’m s-so sorry, I didn't-” his words are weak, still coming from a very bad high. You start to take care of him, just like you did in that bathroom all those weeks ago. The needle is still in his arm, dirty and used, he winces when you pull it out, chucking it off of the balcony. 

“We need to- you need help, Matty, I'm serious.” His eyes widen at your statement, his free hand reaching up to grab you. “P-please, don't call anyone.” he starts, visibly shaking. “I dont- i just want you.. no one else.” he’s scared. You've never seen him scared before, the fear visible on his face. 

“Just hold still, let me-” You have no experience in cleaning wounds of any kind, but you try your best, finding a pack of tissues in your bag, wiping down his arm. 

His hands are still shaking, and they feel cold to the touch. It breaks your heart to see him like this, scared and cold, not knowing what to do. 

“Please don't tell anyone.'' He forces the words out of his mouth, making eye contact with you. 

“I won't. But this is the last time.” you answer, stroking his upper arm comfortingly. He looks wrecked, dark circles under his eyes, hair obviously unwashed. He was wearing the same clothes he was when you last saw him

“Do you have anything else on you?” you ask, holding out your hand. You weren't letting him do this again. Never again. 

He nods, taking a kit out of his pocket. Inside, another needle, a spoon, and a small baggie. Taking it out of his hands, you walk over to the edge of the terrace, shaking the sandy coloured substance out onto the street, letting it fly into the wind to disappear. 

The needle was broken in two, also thrown over the edge of the terrace. Gone 

Matty let out soft groans as he moved to properly lay down, asking you to sit with him. You do, lowering yourself onto the ground next to the sofa, your hand reaching up to stroke his face. His tears still stream down his face, and you wipe them away, smiling at him. 

“I'm moving in with you.”

“I missed you.”

Both of you spoke at the same time, your voices overlapping. He raises his eyebrows at you, words forming in his mouth before dying. 

“Okay.” he nods, accepting your decision. 

“I’ve told Hann. We’re getting you clean, I don't care if you want to or not.” 

“Okay.” 

Silence 

“I love you.” the words slip out of your mouth, hitting him just as hard as they did you. He squeezes your hand, leaning down for a kiss. He doesn't say it back. The two of you sit there, staring into each other's eyes. Mattys breathing becomes more regular, and so do his pupils. 

“Don't do that ever again, please.” your voice is small, audibly shaking. 

“I won't.” a wave of deja vu washes over you

He won't. 

What are we?

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Fuck you are! You're not going anywhere” your mothers shrill voice pierces your ears, and you shake your head. Packing your things, you walked around grabbing the remaining clothes out of your wardrobe, stuffing them into a suitcase. 

Your mother had tried to stop you, but she couldn't. Having turned 18 a while ago, you were free to go wherever you pleased. Mattys house was already filled with a bunch of your stuff, and you had been sleeping over there more often than in your own bed. What was the difference?

“If you leave now, you're not my daughter anymore.” she said quietly, almost expectantly. 

You roll your eyes.

“Never really was, was I?” that was all you needed to say. All you've been wanting to say for years. Her eyes widen, and you turn around as the hurt spreads onto her face. 

The door shuts with a loud bang, the sound echoing through the neighbourhood. 

—-------------------------------------------------------

The days dragged by as Matty became more and more restless, making it entirely your problem. No amount of weed could calm him down, jittery and shaking. The itch was there for you as well, albeit not as strong as Mattys, who was close to crying by the looks of it. 

But he had promised you, and was intending to keep said promise even if it was extremely uncomfortable, the headache that was spread throughout his head wasn't helping either.

The two of you had spent the day in each other's arms, a blanket draped over you. The TV was quiet, the lights flickering over Mattys face softly as he pulled your lips into a firm kiss. 

‘What are we?’

You push the thought out of your head, letting yourself be kissed. His hand drew small circles onto the side of your arm, ever so often stopping to lightly pinch at the skin, making you jump. You felt his smile against your lips, the feeling only comparable to some sort of divinity. It was soft moments like these that made you forget everything else. The fighting, the drugs, the others.

You had called Hann, letting him know that you and Matty needed space. Withholding most details, like the state you had found him in, you assure him of Mattys wellbeing, stating “He’s going through it, but I've got it under control. Denise doesn't know, and don't tell her when she comes back.” His mother was set to make a return sometime in the next couple months, you overheard her tell Matty on the phone.  

The kiss deepens, with Matty attempting to slip his tongue into your mouth, and you let him. Since this started happening, it had always been you that had control of the situation, not letting him even get a taste of power before pushing him down, telling him to “Be good for me, yeah? I'll give you what you want, just…” 

His hand threads itself in your hair, and you gasp at the slight tug he gives it. The look in his eye when you finally glance up makes your breath hitch. Pupils completely blown out, he looks at you with an expression that can only be described as pure lust.

He pulls away for a split second, his eyes asking you a silent question. You nod.

Immediately, his hands are occupied with pushing your shirt up, hands palming your tits, and you feel rough calluses against your skin, making you moan. It seems like all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room when he pressed a searing hot kiss onto your ribs, slowly working his way to run his tongue across your peaked nipple, making your back arch back into him. 

He lets out a low, almost animalistic groan as you grind against him, your hips rolling onto his steadily growing erection. A flicker of pride flashed through you at the thought of you being the reason he was worked up after a few kisses and a look. You smile, raking a hand through his hair as he kisses down your stomach, quickly stopping him before he could go and lower. 

“Can we switch?” you ask, batting your eyelashes, a faux innocent expression. He nods vigorously, letting you climb on top of him. 

The look he gave you when you started to grind down onto him is priceless, wide eyes and parted lips staring back at you. You kiss down his neck, leaving aggressive hickeys in your wake, marking him up. He adjusts underneath you, and you reach a hand up to his chest, raking your hand over the expanse of it. The nipple piercing catches your eye, the black metal almost shimmering in the light. 

“O-oh my go- fuckk-” his moans fill the air when you tug on it, a sharp pain reverberating through his body, and you feel him twitch against your leg. Your teeth find the piercing, biting down and pulling again, drinking in the noises he makes in response. Hands find his sides, thumbing at his ribs, trying to distract from the pain coming from his chest. 

“You want me?” you ask, smugly, seeing his expression rapidly change. He looks blissed out, and you haven't even properly touched him yet. The next words to come out of your mouth make his breath hitch and his hips buck upwards in desperation. 

“Want me to suck you off? I promise I'm good.” you mock his words, grinning at him in the same manner he did. The sight of you perched on top of him and your question almost made him cum in his pants, again. 

“P-please, i promise i won't touch- just.. please” his voice cracks as he says the last word, morphing into a drawn out moan, the sound going straight to your core. 

“But- i want you to get off first.” he never ceases to surprise you, his statement making you perk up, raising an eyebrow at him. “You can, you know..” he vaguely gestures at his thigh, eyes avoiding yours. A laugh escapes you when you realise what he meant, an extremely unsexy snort leaving your lips. 

“You want me to.. Seriously? Grind on your thigh?” he cringes at the way you say it, flexing his legs under you. “Well, yeah, you're pretty and I like to.. watch you?” he sounds unsure, like you're about to laugh at him again. The compliment takes you by surprise, butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You don't speak anymore, instead sitting up straight, towering over him. Mattys breathing becomes even more irregular than it already was, his chest rising and falling up and down rapidly. “Okay, i'll do it.'' Your voice is breathless and small, but his reaction is thankful, hands finding your hips comfortingly.

Your fingers toy with the hem of Mattys shirt, which was now pulled back down. He nods, giving you permission to take it off of him, softly moaning as it brushes against his nipple, still sensitive and raw from your previous attack on his chest. 

Your lack of pants in the first place helped you settle onto his thigh comfortably, the shirt you had on covering most of you. You could feel his gaze on you, watching your every move. An experimental grind onto his jean-clad thigh made a spark of pleasure lick up your spine, a soft moan leaving your lips as you make eye contact with Matty. He urges you on, hands creeping up to cup your tits again, softer this time. 

You grind down harder, feeling a dull pleasure spread throughout your body. Matty lets out a quiet groan at the sight of you using him to get off, getting even harder than he thought possible. Speeding up, you settle into a distinct rhythm, your hips ever so slightly guided by Mattys hands resting on them. 

“You look so pretty like this.”

He sounds genuine, his eyes raking over your body with a look of adoration. You smile, letting out a moan as he tensed his thigh slightly, upping the pressure against your clit. Lowering down to catch his lips in a desperate kiss, you can feel yourself get closer to the edge, Mattys tongue licking into your mouth only spurring you on. 

“Fuck- Matty.” you look down, seeing Mattys eyes still on you makes something ignite within you, the rubber band in your core tightening even more. His hands play with your nipples, thumbing at the skin, leaving light kisses on the back of your hand. His expression is sickly sweet, almost cocky. You cup his face, kissing him roughly as you feel yourself throttling towards your orgasm. 

A hand finds his cock, firmly palming him through his jeans, making him groan into your mouth. You can feel a wet patch forming on the front of his pants, soaking them with precum. A particularly pathetic moan and skilled twist of your nipple from Matty makes you fall apart on his thigh, legs shaking as you grind your way through your climax. 

Your breathing is heavy when you finally start to come down from your high, Matty jumpy and twitchy underneath you, watching you collect yourself. There's a wet patch on the front of his jeans where you had just been, perfectly matching the one he had caused all by himself. 

“Is this all f’me?” you ask, your hand stroking him through the material of his pants, watching him clench his fists at his side. You bat your eyelashes at him again, and he lets out a short string of please’s and begging. The sight in front of you is absolutely delicious, Matty panting and squirming, his curls sticking to his forehead.

“Relax for me baby, let me take care of you.” you coo, watching his reactions closely. He throws his head back, hitting the pillows as he lets out another loud groan. Your hand moves to the zipper of his jeans, slowly unbuttoning them. The tent in his boxers is obvious, his cock straining against the thin material.

Your nails graze his thigh, digging into the skin. You knew he liked a bit of pain to his pleasure, and you were going to give him just that. 

His hand finds your hair as you pull down his boxers, letting his erection spring out. Precum dribbled down the side, coating his cock in a layer of shine. Your hand wraps around him, giving him a light squeeze. The moan he lets out is heavenly, and you stroke up and down the length of him, thumbing his slit. He shudders, his hand tightening in your hair. 

“Please- do something.” you listen to him, reaching down to drag your tongue up the underside of his cock. Sputtering and moaning, he mutters out “T-thank you, fuck, thats so good.” 

You do the same again, taking him into your mouth. He feels heavy on your tongue, precum spilling out of the tip. 

“I’m not gonna last- i’m sorry I-” you cut him off with a graze of your teeth along the inside of his thigh. His thighs tense as your hand grasps the base of his cock, stroking what your mouth can't take. You bob your head, groans of pleasure leaving his lips as he bucks up into your mouth. He tries to apologise, and you tell him you’ll stop if he does that again. 

Nodding, he watches as your hand tugs at him, your bright nails a stark contrast to the leaking head of his cock. The sight is erotic, the way your red-rimmed mouth moves up and down his length, taking him deeper each time.

“I can’t- i’m going to-” he tries to pull you off of him, but you resist, instead speeding up your movements, desperately trying to bring him to the edge. Your eyes are watering and you can feel spit dripping down the side of your chin, but that didn't matter to you. You needed to feel Matty come undone in your mouth, and you were so close.

He whined, bucking up into your mouth, biting back yet another apology. 

“F-fuck-” is your only warning before he spills into yor mouth, hot ropes of cum painting the back of your throat. His hand never left your hair, gripping onto it for dear life as you worked him through his orgasm. 

Sticking out your tongue to show off what he had done, Matty screws his eyes shut at the sight, a groan leaving his parted lips. You swallow.

“That was.. So fucking good.” you giggle at the praise, crawling up to kiss him deeply. He can taste himself on your tongue, moaning softly into the kiss. You reach down to play with the piercing on his chest. The sounds he made were too heavenly to make you stop. 

The hickeys you had sucked into the skin of his neck and chest made you gawk at him, admiring your work. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” he smirks at you, cocky. You take out the camera you kept in your bag, which was conveniently sitting on the glass table adjacent to the sofa. Angling the camera so you could capture everything, the flash goes off three separate times. It blinds him the first time, making his eyes shut at the light. 

The second picture is better, with Matty looking at you instead of the camera, a provocative grin spread onto his face. He was always a sucker for attention, absolutely relishing in it. The picture perfectly caught the deep purple of the marks you had left on him, contrasting his pale skin perfectly. 

The third picture though, was your favourite. Your hand had made its way to his nipple, pulling at the piercing right before snapping the photo. His face contorted in a mix of pain and pleasure, mouth slightly open with his eyes almost fully closed. He sure was a sight for sore eyes, the expression igniting a fire in you. 

Leaning down to kiss him, you chuck the camera somewhere behind you, hearing it hit cushions on the other end of the sofa. The moment was soft, tender, like a fond memory. 

One thing ruined it all. A nagging feeling at the back of your mind you just couldn't calm.

"What are we?" 

—-------------------------------------------------------

It had taken days of convincing to get Matty to go with you. Ross and Adam had invited you to dinner, and George was also going to be there. He was reluctant to go, not wanting to face any of them. After hours of pleading and a makeout session, you stood by the door and watched as he put his shoes on. 

 You both walked hand in hand down the street, taking a shortcut through an old junkyard. Hann was probably just as nervous as Matty was to see him again, and you told him as much. Matty just shrugged, eyes glued to the ground in front of him. 

The ring of the doorbell as you pressed it made him finally look up. Ross answered, eyes softening and he saw you both. He pulled you in for a hug, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. Matty was twitchy and frankly, scared, to see everyone again. The way he had acted made him cringe inwardly. 

“Hey Matty.” Ross spoke as he pulled him in for one of his big man hugs. Matty hugged him back, finally smiling. It was okay, everything was going to be okay. 

The conversation had been hard at first, with Hann going on his ‘drugs are bad for you’ rant again. Matty sat and listened, and so did you, squeezing his hand under the table when Adam finally finished, getting up to put on the kettle.

George was sitting on the couch, eyeing you as you went to plop next to him. Everything seemed normal, except for Hann’s incessant rambling and checking if everything was alright, which was pretty regular now that you really thought about it. 

The night was spent laughing and watching Pulp Fiction on the telly. It felt like old times, before everything had gone to shit. You smile fondly at the memories of Matty and Ross almost killing each other over trivial games of FIFA, clawing at each other until Hann finally pulled them apart. 

You watch the others, absolutely engrossed in the movie, with soft munching coming from the direction of Ross and his bag of prawn cocktail crisps. He had an obsession with the flavour, reluctant to try anything else. George had even offered him a tenner to swap with him his cheese flavoured ones, and he flat out refused. 

The night was calm, with you leaning against Mattys chest for the majority of the movie. You felt his breathing and heartbeat in his chest, it calmed you. Everything felt alright, and you could feel your eyes droop closed. The last thing you remember was Mattys hand stroking your hip lightly as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep, breathing in the scent of his cologne.   

[biaswreckme]

is anyone listening | seongjoong

Every night, a cold heart A rough fight, tiring day Embrace me in your warm arms or Kim Hongjoong is touch-averse and a colleague at a company dinner steps over his boundaries.

Fandom: Ateez

Pairing: Hongjoong/Seonghwa

Member: Hongjoong, Seonghwa

Word count: 1656 words

Genre/Tropes: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Rating: nc-17

Triggers/Warnings: touch-averse Hongjoong, ace Hongjoong, feeling wrong in one's skin, someone touches Hongjoong without asking (innocent touches, nothing sexual), mention of wanting to rip off own skin, physical discomfort, established songjoong, Seonghwa is an angel who comforts Hongjoong

You can read it on: AO3

It was one of those days.

One of those days in which Hongjoong spent an entire day just staring at the bright monitor in his studio, no new ideas. 

One of those days in which Hongjoong had a constant headache and no medicine, no matter how strong, was enough to alleviate it. 

He could feel something under his skin, almost a buzzing or something electric leaving him restless. when he passed by people in the company’s hallways, he dodged them, not wanting to touch anyone and worsen the feeling. Because when he was like this, skinship or any touching just made things even worse. He already usually avoided skinship, especially in public, so whenever he had a bad day, physical touch tended to aggravate the situation. 

And then there was dinner, with new people from the production side of the company who had no idea about his unease around virtual strangers. They had never been out with these people before, and he was sure he would never want to do this again. There was one person who sat by his side - before any of his members could - and would not let him go. He knew this colleague did not have bad intentions, it was just a friendly company dinner, but the guy had too many drinks and would not physically let go of Hongjoong. A side hug, poking Hongjoong on the side when speaking to him, massaging - more like digging his fingers - Hongjoong’s shoulders and back, and at some point in the evening there were even kisses on his cheek. 

It took Hongjoong a long time to come to terms with his needs and voicing them to the closest people around him and they knew how to respect his boundaries, so when the man started with the touches, he froze. He had no reaction whatsoever, could not even speak, let alone shy away, his body stiff, praying for dinner to be over soon. And he was alone there, with the members engaged in their own schedules. He could barely remember the guy’s name, his insistence was too overbearing, even trying to get Hongjoong to go to a party after dinner. 

And then he finally got home. The apartment was empty, for it was relatively early, and he had never been this happy to have the place to himself. There it was, the buzzing under his skin, a sob lodged into his throat that only came out under the hot spray of water. 

Hongjoong lost track of time. 

Once he discarded his clothes in the bin and turned the shower on, setting the temperature as high as possible, he could finally let go. Under the constant stream of water falling down on his shoulders, unfreezing him and washing away the numbness, he collapsed. At first he did not even notice the tears, but his sobs only got louder, shaking his entire body. It was an overwhelming feeling, the sensation that there was something crawling under his skin in the places the guy had touched him.

The scalding water was not enough to wash everything away, but he couldn’t properly reach around his back with the loofah to scrub his skin; he wished he could rip it all off, skin and muscles where he could still feel the fingers digging in, and replace with something new, something pristine, something untouched. There was desperation in his crying, scrubbing, yet he could feel nothing, only the itching in the spots he couldn’t reach, his sobs getting louder. He felt wrong. 

And then came the knock on the door, which he did not hear at first. Then the person knocked louder, calling out his name. And this time he almost whimpered in relief, but he couldn’t speak yet; he could barely cry out Seonghwa’s name in response, but he knew he was understood when the door opened slowly and just slightly, Seonghwa’s voice soft now he knew he was being heard, letting Hongjoong know he was coming into the bathroom, giving him time to close the shower curtain if he wanted.

“I got a message from Eden-hyung, telling me to check on you, something about a guy being touchy at dinner… oh, honey,” Hongjoong sobbed harder at that, knowing other people noticed his discomfort, feeling angry at himself for not being subtle enough. “What do you need from me?” From all their years together, this was the first time in a long while that Seonghwa was seeing Hongjoong like this. It was usually never this bad, and his heart clenched in worry. 

“Can you… can you scrub my back?” Hongjoong’s voice was so low Seonghwa almost missed it. “Just… don’t touch my skin? Can you do that?” 

“Of course I can, love. Take your time, I’m here when you’re ready.”

Hongjoong took a deep breath and turned his back to the curtain, holding the loofah above his shoulder and told Seonghwa he was ready. He heard the curtain opening, and over his soft cries he could not mistake the moment Seonghwa saw - and understood - how bad it was, for the older softly gasped at the sight.

“Love…” Seonghwa started and stopped, silently and carefully getting the loofah and starting to scrub at Hongjoong’s back. 

“Harder, please.”

“Joong… it’s…”

“I know what it must look like, but I need you to scrub harder. Please, it hurts” he sobbed, hugging himself, and Seonghwa obeyed. He felt the harshness from the loofah all over his back, but never once Seonghwa’s fingers, and relief started seeping in slowly. He was sure his skin must be an angry red at this point, both from the hot water and from the scrubbing, but there was something still crawling in there, and Seonghwa didn’t stop until he said he could, until the feeling started to go away and down the drain.

When Hongjoong stepped under the water to wash the soap away, finishing his shower, Seonghwa told him he was going to the kitchen, wanting to make him something warm to drink, because he knew Hongjoong would need something more for comfort that night. Hongjoong used the towel to give himself a last scrub down, looking at his back in the mirror. He could almost see small purple bruises starting to show up where he could still feel the phantom of fingers jabbing into his back - or was it just the shadows? -, his entire body red from the heat and scrubbing. He put his clothes on, and found Seonghwa on the sofa. 

“I told the others to give us some privacy tonight, they got Eden’s message as well, so they understand.”

Hongjoong just nodded and sat down, putting a little distance between them and getting a warm cup that was on the small coffee table. He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I’m like this.”

“What? No, Hongjoong…” he could see Seonghwa wanted to reach out and comfort him physically but restrained from it, shaking his head vehemently. “You are allowed to have boundaries.”

Hongjoong could not meet Seonghwa’s eyes. “But I didn’t tell him no. He didn’t know. It’s my own fault that I’m feeling like this.”

“Joong… it’s not. Some people are touchy, sure, but it’s not your fault for feeling uncomfortable with the situation. Touching people - colleagues - at a work dinner is uncalled for, especially when you don’t know said people enough to know if they’re okay with it.” Seonghwa tried to be emphatic, needing Hongjoong to believe him.

“But most people are fine with it. There’s just something wrong with me,” Hongjoong replied, looking down at the liquid in the cup.

“Kim Hongjoong. There is nothing wrong with how you feel. Look at me, love, please,” Seonghwa begged, his heart breaking, choking back tears at Hongjoong’s forlorn expression. “You are more than allowed to feel the way you feel, there is absolutely, and I repeat, absolutely nothing wrong with it.”

“But I should have told him to stop. I can still feel his fingers on me. I just… froze. I couldn’t. I should have…”

Seonghwa interrupted him. “And we can work on that if you want, on speaking up I mean, but don’t blame yourself, please.”

Hongjoong sighed, finally letting out what had been on his mind all night long. “I just wish things were easier sometimes. Feeling that kind of attraction. Being fine with any touching at any time. I know it must not be easy for you to be with me.”

“Hey, stop,” Seonghwa stated, “being with you and loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done, and we all have our preferences and limits. You are not wrong for being who you are. Now tell your brilliant brain to shut up and stop worrying about things that are not even remotely close to being true.” Hongjoong chuckled, and Seonghwa felt the small victory. “I’m serious, Joong. I love you for who you are, just as I know you love me for who I am.”

“I do love you. And thank you. Can you sleep over tonight? Just maybe…” Hongjoong trailed off, a little unsure, even with all of Seonghwa’s words to him.

“Of course. Maybe what? Tell me what you need,” Seonghwa encouraged him.

Hongjoong’s voice was low, barely above a whisper. “I need you close, but not… touching yet. Is it ok if we use different blankets?”

Seonghwa smiled, Hongjoong’s ask as a confirmation that he knew his boyfriend well. “I had a feeling you were going to ask for that, so I already got the extra blanket and it’s on your bed.”

“Thank you,” there were tears in Hongjoong’s eyes again, but this time they were of relief, of realizing how much he was loved and understood.

The feeling of wrongness was slowly going away - even if his back was still itching in discomfort by the time they went to bed -, the love in Seonghwa’s eyes leaving no room for him to doubt anymore.

He would be fine. 

[mayashesfly]

Radio Killed the Video Star

"HAHA! Fucking finally"

Vox grinned as blood and coolant dripped from the crack on his face.

His suit in disarray after coming into his demon form, skin ripped by his own cords and wires that dug deep in his skin and erupted outside.

He felt his power drain from him as a spark of electricity left the crack on his face.

But he did it.

He defeated the Radio Demon!

Alastor fell on his knees, covering the burnt skin that irritated his angelic scar.

His cane laid broken beneath his feet.

And oh! The fucking irony of this scene! HAHAHA!!! THIS WAS SO MUCH BETTER IN PERSON!!!!

"Y-You're celebrating too early... old pal" Alastor got out through gritted teeth. And Vox merely smiled despite the blurry and fragmented scene before him.

"Oh please. You really think I would let you escape just as easily as last time, Alastor?" Vox asked rhetorically, mocking him as he knows just how difficult and painful it is for the demon to travel through shadows in blinding light.

Especially with how weakened he is now.

"Don't make me laugh"

"HA!" A cough wracked through the radio demon's throat from the laugh, blood dribbling underneath his chin, yet he still continues on with a smile. "Oh please, my old pal. You're the one laughing at your own high for your ego!"

"F-zzt-UcK YOU!" Vox hissed, electricity crackling over his form despite his diminishing powers as he slowly walked over Alastor's prone form, claws moving from the ache in his systems.

"You're just ge-GEtting unDER my sKiN... Beca-caUzzt you lost, you pathetic liTtLE HA-HAzzt-bin"

"How sharp of you to notice something so obvious, my d-dear....!"

Vox paused in his approach as he stared into the distance.

The Radio Demon's quips falling in deaf eyes as his eyes widened.

Ice flowing through his veins despite the warmth of his systems.

Alastor was still talking despite his waning strenght.

But when he noticed Vox stopped responding, he rose a brow and looked behind him.

"Now what's the matter Vox? For you to—"

"MOVE!!!"

The air around him burned as electricity crackled through the air.

Eyes widening upon seeing blue and red color angelic steel.

Ears pinning down as he stared at shocked eyes beneath the cracks and distortions.

Despite it all...

He smiled.

"I'm the only one that gets to kill you..."

That softened gaze disappeared into an abyss of darkness as his old friend powered down for the very last time.

The air crackled.

Not with electricity.

But with magic as he absorbed the ambient radio waves that fueled them both.

"How dare you come between us"

His neck creaked like a broken radio as dials burned in his eyes and green symbols tore through the air around him.

The lights around them flickering before promptly cutting off.

"How DARE you come between us you impudent low life"

Screams erupted from the holy being as shadows soar through the darkened sky, coiling around the angel before ripping them apart limb by limb.

Bright golden blood littered through the air like stars in the night sky.

But the gruesome sight in front of him did nothing to quell the aching hollowness that burned through his chest.

As if he was the one who's been hit.

As if he was the one who died.

His body creaked as if he was the one wailing.

The crackle and crunch of broken bones accompanying his breaking unbeating heart.

When did he start crying?

The shadows wasn't satisfied with the mangled corpse, dragging the body into the void as he curled around the cold form of his old companion.

The wound in his chest burned.

But he paid no mind as he hugged the still frame of his friend.

Stupid, stupid little picture box.

Always making harsh mistakes and emotional decisions that one.

And now he's.... and now he's.......

Alastor gulped down the pooling blood in his mouth as his body turned ice cold.

He had always been cold-blooded despite his deer-like appearance but Vox....

He shouldn't be cold.

He shouldn't be this cold.

Why is he cold?

"You stupid old picture box...."

"Why....? Why did you do it.....?"

"I'm the only one that gets to kill you..."

[pippastrelle]

I'm No Angel [2.5k Chaggie]

Vaggie's a fallen angel doubting she'll survive the end of the extermination. When a demon appears at the alley's end, she expects to go down fighting. Instead, she finds a kindness that did not earn hell like she did.

2.5k fic about Vaggie and Charlie's first meeting and Vaggie's decision to stay with her. I wrote it to give Chaggie some more attention and depth and as practice for making a visual novel (so it's somewhat in that format).

tw injury detail

Vaggie is dying.

She's been dead for decades and she's dying.

And again, no-one will miss her.

Bloody rips in her muscle and skin chafe against her top with every crawl forward. She gasps through her teeth and stops, groaning. Her vision pulses black. Grit bites into her raw hands keeping herself up.

Vaggie: Fuck.

Her back muscles flex instinctively, trying to balance herself with the wings Lute ripped out and strew across the road. Vaggie's eye boils in the hellish air. Everything's on fire.

The only reprieve was in between ripping off her uniform to dump in a bin with her spear and dragging the top off some corpse onto her own.

Pain is hardly unfamiliar. She wished she could forget it. Angels don't feel pain. They don't get hurt.

She stopped being an angel when she spared that sinner.

But they were a child. They posed no threat to heaven. Killing them wouldn't have achieved anything.

Vaggie: Gurgh.

She collapses front-first onto the splintered boards and junk piled at the end of the alley. Metal digs into her side, yet her exhale is almost in relief. She's bared worse.

She's no longer in the open.

Vaggie convulses as her skin is already knitting back together. It sears and itches, covering over each bloody wound. Angelic blood did not belong in Hell or anywhere.

Angelic blood... is gold. She didn't know.

Her breaths quake her whole body. She stares down the alleyway.

Luminescent, gold splotches trail all the way from the street to her body.

Even if the demons wouldn't recognise it, all it would take is to follow it and they could kill her in the grime of a back alley, all while she's wearing a top stolen off an exterminated sinner with Xs over the tits.

Like a sinner deserves.

Blood burns acrid all over the Pride Ring. Vaggie retches as she inhales it. She buries her face against a junk box to cover her choking while she waits.

When the demon arrives, they're a blur of a red suit. They block out the fire Vaggie was squinting against.

She grinds her jaw and readies herself to fight. But her arms don't raise. Her spear is in a bin. How can she fight back?

Demon: Oh. Oh! You're alive! You're alive!

Their voice chimes like music.

Still, demons are nothing but deceptive.

Even if the demon is tall, they're skinny. They rush forward and Vaggie plans to knock out their feet with her own.

Her legs don't move.

The demon falls to their knees before Vaggie. She squirms away. They lift gentle hands that don't yet touch her face.

Demon: You are not going to die! I promise. I promise you that.

With their faces so close, Vaggie sees the demon looks... angelic.

They wear a small smile that they're pushing even bigger for her as if for her benefit. It pushes into apple red cheeks. It shines like the golden, curly hair cascading down their back. They brush Vaggie's hair out of the way of her face, exposing her hollow eye socket.

Demon: Okay, I... can't see your eye anywhere, but lots of demons live with one eye, and they're none the worse for it!

They reach into their blazer and with a gurgle nowhere near words, Vaggie bucks out of their hand.

Demon: No, no, no, don't worry. Don't move. I can bandage your wounds then bring you over to my infirmary to get better. Or at least just bandage your wounds. Please?

They bring out a fresh roll of bandage from their inside pocket.

Even if the skin is reforming, it's thin. Bandaging the wounds will keep them from reopening and from festering with hellish infection.

If the demon wanted to kill her, they wouldn't need to pretend anything. So, Vaggie stills. The demon applies the bandage around her face with care not to aggravate either the injuries or Vaggie.

Vaggie: What are you doing?

Her voice is thick with all the blood and spit in her mouth.

Demon: I am making sure that no more of my people die in the extermination than absolutely need to. Like you.

In every extermination, the only thing more deadly than an angel's blade is how the sinners turn on each other. They'd shove the next closest sinner into her blade instead, only for another angel to gut them through the back.

Vaggie: And you are?

Who would protect them? Why would they help her?

The demon's lilt is as sweet as ever, but there's a bracing to their smile. Their eyes keep flicking to the bandages they're now applying around Vaggie's raw hands.

Demon: I'm Charlie Morningstar.

‘Morningstar’.

…Seriously?

Vaggie: Is that... a coincidence? Charlie Morningstar? Lucifer Morningstar?

Charlie: He's my dad.

Vaggie: You're his...?

Charlie: Yes, I'm his daughter.

Lilith and Lucifer, the roots of human evil, have a daughter. And she is nursing Vaggie's wounds.

Charlie's red blazer and trousers paired with a black bowtie belong in a theatre. The extermination counters sinners, not hellborn demons like her. She shouldn't have been attacked. Still, Vaggie begins to notice blood on her shoes, from walking the Pride Ring during an extermination, and bloody, handprints on her front and arms, from demons shoving her away.

Charlie could have been a threat to them. She could be a threat to Vaggie. Vaggie couldn't know. But Vaggie isn't the only demon she approached this extermination.

Vaggie: You-

The word splinters into coughs. Charlie rests a hand against her head to steady it.

Vaggie: You don't act like a fallen angel.

Vaggie: Thank you.

Charlie's big eyes go bigger, and she stops to stare at Vaggie. Her mouth flaps even before she finds the words.

Charlie: Thank you. Yes, yes, so, is this all okay? How are you feeling now? Do I need to bandage anywhere else?

Vaggie's hand goes to her back without thought. She stops herself; it looked just a twitch. But Charlie's eyes catch it.

Charlie takes one of Vaggie's hands in her own.

Charlie: You know, I can bring you to a little infirmary I've made. You can even stay the night if you'd like to. It's totally rent-free. Please.

Her hands are warm, and not in the choking way Hell is warm. It thaws through Vaggie and brings her back to her first home: the tropical constant of El Savador.

Vaggie is in no condition to fight. Her body trembles to move and the alleyway junk pile is hardly shelter. If Charlie turned on her, Vaggie would find a way out. Healing first. Everything else... later.

She nods.

Vaggie: Thanks. Please.

Charlie: What's your name?

Vaggie: Vaggie.

Charlie: Ohhh... Uh, nice name.

Her attempt to smile is genuine at least.

Vaggie had volunteered to leave her human life behind her when she became an exorcist. What does it matter what she's named? She thought it then and she thought it now. It didn't occur to her to make up a new name. Who cares?

Charlie: Come on, Vaggie, let's get you up!

Charlie, as kindly as she can, drags Vaggie from the alley into a taxi. The driver sneers some inappropriate comments about the two but Charlie meets it with a smile and a wad of cash, which doesn't shut the taxi driver up but it does get her driving. Vaggie mentally notes the location of her spear.

*

Charlie takes them to a lonely high-rise atop a hill of scorched grass. It's lit up with too many lightbulbs but it's intact.

Inside, after a bit more dragging, Charlie lays Vaggie to rest into a bed set close to the entrance and Vaggie sinks into the clean blankets like a kiss against her ripped up body.

Charlie: Don't worry, I'm just getting what you need for your back.

While Charlie sets to gathering disinfectant, water, and bandages from scattered buckets, Vaggie sees she's in a grand hall of empty beds. Every inch of marble floor, every windowsill, and even the start of the staircase is set up with blankets and medical supplies. The beds seem sourced from everywhere in existence. Metal-framed singles that quiver in the breeze next to four-poster kings next to cracked cots next to...

Vaggie: Uhhh.

Charlie must have got most of the beds from some sex clubs that were either destroyed or having a sale. Vaggie is surrounded by love hearts and mirrors and leather and chains.

Thankfully, Vaggie landed on a love heart. She stares up at the pink and the pain briefly melts behind her awkwardness.

Charlie: It's clean! They're all one-hundred percent clean. Scrubbed and new bedsheets. But if you want I can move you to one of the others-

Vaggie: It's... okay.

Her face burns.

Vaggie: Am I the first you brought here?

Charlie: You know, the others I found, they said they were fine without it. It's fine. It gives me more time to focus on you. Now-

Charlie returns to Vaggie and she's shed her blazer. The white button-up underneath brings attention back to her cute bowtie while her suspenders and rolled up sleeves make a handsome shape on her. She was tall, with long arms and long legs to suit it.

Charlie: So, um, how do you want to show me your back?

Vaggie: Huh?

Vaggie splutters a bit, Charlie's voice calls her mind back, but Charlie's apple cheeks seem somehow redder. She lifts the medical supplies in her hands.

Charlie: If you want me to clean the injuries on your back, I'm going to have to, uh, see your back.

Vaggie: Don't worry about it.

Vaggie: I'll take my top off.

Meanwhile, Vaggie's face combusts. She looks again to the love heart on the bed. There is no practical reason to swap.

Charlie: I'm not going to look.

Charlie gives an exaggerated twirl of her legs as she spins around to give Vaggie her privacy.

Vaggie took another look around the grand hall. Although the windows span almost as high as the walls, they're made of individual panes too small for most demons to break through. The arching front doors are thick enough to be weapons of their own right if intruders try to enter. They're alone in the high-rise.

As satisfied as she can be by the security, Vaggie peels off her stolen top and lies on her front on the bed.

Vaggie: You're good.

She hears Charlie turn, then hiss in sympathy.

Charlie: Owwww.

Charlie: They'll heal.

She starts cleaning the two vertical gashes between Vaggie's shoulder blades, but Vaggie's wings are gone. Taken back to Heaven with Lute as proof of her fall.

Vaggie hisses too as the wet rag first hits her back. Her hands claw into the bedsheets.

Charlie: Sorry! This'll be quick. Don't worry.

Vaggie has dealt with worse. She has dealt with worse. She grinds her teeth and focuses on breathing. Charlie starts to rub little circles on her neck to comfort her, which stalls Vaggie.

Charlie: Aaaaaalmost done.

Once they're clean, Charlie covers them with some bandage she sticks across Vaggie's back. Though itching, it's tolerable.

Charlie: You look beautiful!

Charlie: I mean, it all looks nice and clean and you're totally fine now! I'm turning again. You can put on your top again if you want to.

The breath of a laugh escapes Vaggie without her permission.

Vaggie: It's fine.

Her lips quirk strangely. Vaggie didn't expect the first demon she found to be... so cute.

Fuck. If she'd said that up above, Lute's spear would have been through her lungs before Vaggie finished the breath. So, she wouldn't have said anything. But she never looked a demon longer than assessing a target before Charlie. Are these feelings a sign she was always going to fall, or is this because she fell?

Vaggie: You can look again.

Charlie returns with a smile. She rests a hand lightly on Vaggie's arm while she props herself up on her elbows.

Charlie: How are you feeling?

Vaggie: Like shit.

Vaggie: But I'm not dead, because of you.

Vaggie: Is this what you do every year?

Charlie bobs her head from side to side.

Charlie: This is the second year. I try new things, see what works and what I can do next year. I guess people don't need an infirmary as much as I thought, so back to the drawing board!

She gives an attagirl swing of her arm.

Vaggie: And this building. Is this the base for Lilith and Lucifer?

Charlie: No, no, Dad's got his own place. It's a bit deeper into the Pentagram. I got this place for myself. I used to live with my mum but she had some business or something that was very important and she had to leave a few years ago.

Vaggie frowns.

Vaggie: Why did you tell me that?

Charlie's eyes and mouth form perfect Os.

Charlie: You asked, did you not?

Vaggie: I could use this against you. If Lilith's gone, and I know where Lucifer is...

Charlie leans closer to Vaggie and gives her a little nudge with her elbow.

Charlie: But I don't think you will.

Charlie: Thank you, Vaggie. I'm happy someone could be saved.

Vaggie thinks on the child she spared. With the sheer population of Hell and no way to find their name, she'll never know if they got away.

Why can't she regret it?

It makes sense someone like her ended up with the sinners eventually.

Vaggie: Why protect the sinners?

Charlie: Just because you're sinners doesn't mean you should be exterminated. You're still human! Humans have such amazing potential. You can do anything. Who says Hell has to be the end of that?

Vaggie lets her eye fall closed. Charlie is watching her face.

Vaggie: I think you're the more impressive one.

Charlie: Mmph-!

Vaggie peeks her eye back open but Charlie's turned her head with her fluster.

Charlie: That's a nice thing for you to say.

When she's turned, Vaggie can see tears in the side of her shirt, like a clawed hand punctured it.

Vaggie: Do the sinners hurt you?

Charlie: No, no, they don't hurt me. Not like that.

Vaggie: You're doing a good thing, Charlie.

Everything from Charlie's eyes to her voice shines with sincerity. She's nothing like the sinners Vaggie has seen or the demons she's heard of.

Of the two of them, only Vaggie earnt her place in Hell.

If she was made to defend, maybe this can be her penance.

Vaggie: Is anyone else working with you?

She tried to phrase it neutrally but Charlie gasps with delight.

Charlie: Do you want to stay? You absolutely absolutely can!

Vaggie: I'll make sure no-one hurts you-

Charlie throws her arms forward as if to hug her, before remembering Vaggie's back wounds and jerking to a stop. Vaggie's insides lurch with some disappointment, before she also chides herself.

Charlie: I've got plenty of rooms upstairs for you! You get to choose. And if there's anything you need, just tell ol' Charlie and she'll sort it.

She keeps nattering her niceties, not particularly checking whether Vaggie is listening.

Vaggie's in a bed taken from a Hell sex club, under the asylum of the daughter of Lilith and Lucifer. Just breathing reminds her of the tears down her back and in her skull where her wings and eye were ripped from her. She spared a demon. She fell from the angels. She didn't deserve to smile.

Still, she is, however slightly.

[choisansexual]

many arohas and other fandom members alike, are changing their dp's on their socials to solid black pics. this is to signify unity in mourning. we are encouraging those that feel compelled to do so, to please set your default avatars and photos to solid black to represent your pain and grieving.

furthermore— feel free to reach out to anyone who has this as their default pic; find comfort in others experiencing and suffering the same hurt and loss.

[goatcheesecak3]

Halloween headcanons 🎃🦇🕸🕷

Going thru a few of devon's characters and guessing what they'd be getting up to on Halloween

#1 Adam

He's most likely taking you to some frat party, nothing too special, but he does dress up - well kinda. He puts a little fake blood around his mouth, says he's a vampire and calls it a day. Halloween is more about the parties than the spooks for him.

#2 Freddy Klein

Halloween is a business opportunity for him, knowing that parents are gonna be taking their kids trick or treating, he organises a few spooky games and refreshment to try and get their attention to the dealership. You help the kids play games like bobbing for apples, while Freddy tries to sell cars to their parents. Once the night is over, the two of you celebrate some successful sales wrapped up on the sofa with a couple of beers.

#3 Casper Galloway

Casper HATES Halloween, he's a big scaredy cat. Even the doorbell ringing from trick or treaters makes him jump out of his skin. He's still pretty freaked out from the whole zemon thing, so you go out of your way to distract him on Halloween. You order a pizza and snuggle up in bed to watch anything other than a horror film - he usually picks a rom com because let's face it, this man is a huuuuge softie.

#4 Mike (rip picture quality)

You and Mike go to great lengths to make Halloween fun for Angel. You carve pumpkins together, make her a little boo basket and take her trick or treating. You let her stay up an hour past her bed time on Halloween, so she can watch a spooky film for kids, like monster House. Once she's been put to bed, you and Mike split a bottle of wine while watching a classic horror film and fall asleep on the sofa together.

#5 Dean Taylor

According to Dean, Halloween is just an excuse to go out and raise hell without getting in trouble. He's been known to graffiti people's houses, set people's bins on fire and even mug drunk party goers. He's kinda an ass.

Where are you while all this is going on? You're at home none the wiser, waiting for him to get back so you can watch a movie together. You're under the impression that he's just out getting some snacks.. but now he's been gone an hour and you're pretty sure the store is closed by now.. oh, never mind, he just got back. He always seems to show up juuuust when you start to worry.

#Rodrick Heffley (yeah i made you wait until the very end, I know that's who you came here for)

He's throwing a rager, and you better believe he's gone all out with his costume. He's painted his face to look like a skeleton and ordered a cheap robe off amazon so he can go as the grim reaper. He usually gets pretty drunk at parties, but on Halloween, every time without a doubt, he gets absolutely wasted. It ends up being your job to carry him up to bed and try to wipe his face paint off him so he doesn't ruin his bedsheets. He ends up getting very clingy and insists that you stay and cuddle with him instead of going back to the party - which you have no problem with at all.

A/n happy Halloween everyone! Hope you enjoyed these hcs, and let me know if you think I should do more "How different characters would act in a scenario" type headcanons- because this was a lot of fun to write!

As always, replies and reblogs are greatly appreciated, they help me figure out what sort of stuff people wanna see more of :^)

Requests are still open! Check my pinned post for details

[blackswan446]

worth it || four.

→ pairing: yan!knj x reader

→ wc: 1044

→ cws: mentions of drugging/anesthetizing someone

→ notes: i wonder what's gonna happen next!! (seriously i have no idea)

it had been a week since namjoon has seen you, since his eyes were blessed with your smiling face and your angelic voice graced the slopes of his ears. the whole time, it felt like he was going through the worst withdrawals a human could feel. the warm light that had shone through the deepest cracks of his soul had suddenly dimmed, the bulb had shattered, and the shards of broken glass stuck to his heart like a pincushion.

despite his melancholy, he still showed up everyday, long sleeves and all, hoping that you would come out of the room you had holed yourself up in and just talk. all he wanted was to hear that sweet voice of yours fill his head, and make his heart race once again. oh, he would kill to be in your presence again, even if it were only for a minute. after all, you had no reason to be all tucked away, when the problem that put you in this state was long gone.

did namjoon feel guilty for what he did? no. why would he? he was simply a piece of trash that needed to be disposed of, and disposed of he was. namjoon knew all the right chemicals to use to make the carcass of the animal that he had murdered fizzle away until it was nothing but liquid in a plastic bin. liquid which was then dumped into the ocean and forgotten about. not great for the environment, he knew, but he saw it as more of a service to the world. after all, daekwan was just a piece of garbage that was polluting the planet, and namjoon simply threw it away. where's the harm in that?

one particular evening, which consisted of a few rounds of video games and some take-out, the dynamic duo wound up lounging in the empty living room, where comfortable silence took up the atmosphere. that was, until namjoon decided to break the serenity and ask the question that had been lingering in his mind for way too long.

"so, how's [name]? is she doing any better?" he asked, setting his phone down on the cool leather sofa. jiwon sighed. "she's...i don't know. i mean, she's coming out of her room to eat and stuff, but that's about it. she doesn't say much to any of us. she hasn't been like this in months." he said discontentedly, furrowing his brows as he talked about his sister.

namjoon's heart broke, more than it had before, if that was even possible. you poor little thing. you were so careful, so cautious. you kept your guard up the whole time, all for some slimy predator to slide through the moat and into the castle, and turn everything upside down and inside out.

you

poor

little

thing.

luckily, namjoon was here now, your knight in shining armor had saved the day and killed the monster that haunted you, you just didn't know yet. and now it was the end of the story, where the brave knight marries the beautiful princess and they live happily ever after. but how? how was he going to get his happy ending, when you were still locked away in the tower of despair?

"i'm no expert," he continued, "but i feel like it'd be good for her to get out for a little while. just have some fun with someone she can trust, and push out all the bad thoughts and replace them with happy memories." he said quietly, face drooping with a look of despondency. "but i don't know how to convince her. i've tried to bring her with me on walks and errands, but she refuses to go."

bingo.

namjoon looked up quickly, mind flooding with ideas. this was how.

all he had to do, he realized, was climb into the tower. he had to rip off the iron bars, and unlock the heavy wooden door that kept you locked inside, and the rest would be history. this was his golden opportunity.

"you know," namjoon said, "i wouldn't mind going out with her. or with the both of you, i don't know, maybe more people will make her more comfortable. just a thought." he faltered, putting on his best show of uncertainty, hiding the dark ideas brewing in the depths of his brain with a pure, white veil.

jiwon paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his featues as he considered the idea. "that actually might be..really helpful. thanks, namjoon. i'll ask her later on." he said, a genuine smile unfolding on his face. namjoon's own innocent grin passed over his lips, before he turned his attention back down to his cell phone.

this was just perfect. this basically meant that you and him were going out on a date, if only your brother wasn't coming along. he needed to get rid of him, not forever, just for the night. once you two had spent some quality time together that night, namjoon would tell you his true feelings, and the two of you would live happily ever after. right?

what if his plan didn't work out? what if you didn't feel the same for him? it was well within the scope of possibilities, hell, it was extremely probable! what then? he couldn't just pack up and move on, no way. he'd never given up on anything, every project, every subject, every everything he'd done had been seen through to the end! he wasn't going to lose his streak now, and especially not on you. but what could he do? losing wasn't an option. but winning wasn't guaranteed. unless...

-- flashback --

"halothane," the professor said, "is used as a general anesthetic. it's colorless, and smells sweet. it's also given through inhalation, which makes it easy to administer." he concluded, setting down his pencil.

--flashback--

of course! if you were...unwelcoming...of his undying love, then he could just put a cloth drenched in the sugary-smelling liquid over your pretty face. you'd take a little nap, and when you'd wake up, everything would be perfect! it would work. it had to.

grinning inwardly at his devious plan, his excitement for the future began to set in. just you, him, and all the time in the world.

what more could he possibly ask for?

--

taglist: @teugiie

[kit-williams]

Barn Anon. Decided to do a silly Gaby one.

Gabriel waits for his human to leave the apartment before turning his attention to the couch. A deep growl fills the air. Everything was fine until his human's birthday party. Then one of her friends went and gave her this... thing. His golden eyes darken as he eyes the offensive item.

At first he thought nothing of it. It was just a gift from a friend. Then his human started bringing and placing it around the house. Not all the time, but enough that he noticed. Again, he could put up with it. Then one day she placed it on her bed, on her pillows. For days he had been forced to watch attention that was once completely his would get occasionally directed to this thing. No more! Never again shall he be forced to share his human's attention in her own home!

Gabriel snarls as he effortlessly rips apart the fabric and stuffing falls out onto the floor. He huffs in dark satisfaction before cleaning up the evidence of the crime scene. He tosses the tattered remains of the innocent plush teddy bear into the trash bin.

I will respect your decision to make this one canon but god I can easily read this as him being a yandere but then again I'm a degenerate trying to survive off of writing only very little smut and little to no yanderes in a month

Note: finally getting to this after fluffuary. My thoughts have not changed

Husbandry Taglist: @egrets-not-regrets @liar-anubiass-blog

Gabriel just cooed as he should have seen how you had gotten upset about it being destroyed and sure it was an "accident" of his strength getting the better of him but the way you scolded him on how it was a gift from a friend. He saw you still upset with the drying wetness of your eyes as you fold your arms frowning at him. He fully knows what he did was wrong but he didn't want to admit that he got unreasonably jealous over a stuffed toy...

He pulls out the bear from behind his back repaired and cleaned from it sitting in the trash. His red eyes looking apologetically like the cute non threatening puppy that he was... and not the xeno killer and astarte killer that he was... no he was a sweet little angel.

You look at the bear looking at its "scar" as Gabriel tries to lighten your mood by saying, "While I might not be an apothecary I did manage to save him from being interred in a dreadnaught."

You give the bear a hug before opening your arms to your Gaby and giving your silly angel a hug as you whisper thank you to him and just hear him coo.

[nortism]

doctor who liveblog pt 33

s6 ep8 night terrors

- ok i think this kid’s got ocd

- uh oh the lift ate them

- uh oh the bin bags ate her

- oh giant eyeball

- maybe the real monsters were landlords all along

- uh oh living doll

- comrade carpet eating the landlord

- FAKE CHILD?!

- george is the cupboard monster omgg

- shittt the landlord turned into a doll

- ohhh doll’s house

- uh oh they doll-ified amy

- the family back together

- uh more creepy singing

s6 ep10 the girl who waited

- they’ve gotta stop splitting up, this is the cause of 100% of their problems

- uh oh old amy

- there’s gonna be two amys?!

- i know she’s not doing the macarena

- his wives

- nooo old amy

s6 ep11 the god complex

- i’ve always wondered what id have in one of these worst fear rooms, probably something boring like disappointing people. or peacocks, im also scared of peacocks

- they gotta stop losing the fucking tardis

- not loving this joe guy

- forgetting ur pe kit and having to do it in my pants is def a contender for what would be in my fear room

- finally the fear of disappointing your parents room!

- uh oh weeping angels

- oh they ate his soul

- hell does seem like a plausible explanation

- no amy don’t go in the room!!

- rip howie

- NO RITA NO

- RITAAAA NOOO

- oh it’s faithhh

- oh no amy

- oh minotaur / labyrinth myth

- ohhh he’s leaving amy and rory??

- also how did he afford a house?

- wtfff