#slack jawed at my email like girl what

[writeouswriter]

Thinking about the time I commented on a fanfic saying it was one of the most in character works I’d ever read and they replied back with a thank you telling me they never actually saw the show, fascinating interaction

[paperclip-skz]

The Good Idea.

fem*Reader x Han Jisung

*WARNING*

contains oral (f receiving), over-clothes stimulation, teasing, unprotected sex, Jisung finishes quickly, cream pie, and lingerie; I'm sure I missed something. This one was slightly rushed, but let me know what I missed in the comments!

WC: 3.9k

********

“So we had an idea.”

Felix strides into your office along with Changbin, Chan, and Minho, all with a grin stretching across their faces. This is going to be good. 

“Every time you guys come into my office and open with that,… its usually a bad idea.”

“Oh, it certainly is.” Minho keeps his hands slumped in his pockets, keeping his calm composure. 

They all take a seat facing you and your desk. You're seated comfortably, your computer shining with your most recent emails. Chan keeps his head down, but his smile remains. They’ve been planning something. 

“Hey, buuug,” Felix chimes, his cute nickname for you rolling off his tongue like fresh wine. 

He knows you can’t resist when he uses that nickname. It has resulted in many broken rules and policies and maybe a few nights where you’ve let some of the members sneak out of their dorms. 

“Just get to the point, Lix,” Chan tips. 

“Yeah, I want to see her reaction to this.” Minho sits cross-armed and stares holes into you. 

“Okay, so here is the idea. You know how Jisung's birthday is coming up.” You nod your head, following along. “We were thinking about hiring someone…as a treat to him.” 

“What like an entertainer? Like a singer.” 

“Not exactly, more so entertainer.” Chan finishes your thought. 

“Yea, like adult…entertainer.” 

Your eyes pop out of your skull. “Lee Felix Yongbok, are you suggesting you want to hire a stripper for Jisungs birthday?” you say in the calmest tone you can muster, which isn’t really calm at the moment.

“Kind of.” Felix’s face scrunches up in a defense to hide himself from your deadly stare.

You pinch the bride of your nose, anticipating the major headache this could cause. “Guys, I know you want to do something special, but you are still celebrities, and I am still your publicity manager, and you cannot imagine the headache it will cause if something like that got released to the public.”

You’ve been handling Stray Kids’s publicity projects for over a year. Something like this wasn’t a surprise, and you couldn’t blame them; even though they were singers and all-round gentlemen…they were still men. 

You’ve handled drunken nights, exes, hook-ups, and some crazy girls who believed they were “the one,” all before a single word got out to the public. Needless to say, you were pretty good at your job. That still didn’t mean you wanted to deal with something that could potentially get out, and if this got out….it could be bad. 

“Well, we have a way around that.” Changbin raised his eyes at you, quickly snaking his eyes from your chest down to your black pumps. 

This time, it was Chan’s turn to continue with this shameless idea. “They want to hire you.” 

If your eyes weren’t out of your skull before, they certainly are now, and your jaw is slacked as far as your desk. A shaky and breathless laugh leaves you. “You must be joking.” 

****************************

What the hell is happening? How did they convince you to do this? 

You were at your desk one day, and the boys were telling you about their stupid idea. Yet somehow, they convinced you with a single promise: They promised you a night with Jisung.

They knew you had a sweet spot for Jisung; you couldn’t describe it even if you tried. He had a way of making you smile or laugh at anything he did, and you loved the way he worked. How he could get so focused on his work, it was like the whole world fell away. 

So somehow, someway, they convinced you to do this. Now you were in the dorms…in Jisungs room…wearing nothing but your favorite lingerie set and a small laced mask. 

“I want a mask.” The boys questioned you; you could tell by the looks on their faces. “To at least hide a part of me. If I do this, I need to at least try to hide my identity somehow.” They agreed, nonetheless, as long as they got to choose the mask. You thought it was the most brilliant idea you could ever think of…however, you didn’t think about the mask they would choose. 

The mask did hide your face, but it was laced, which matched the sensual theme, but it did hardly little to hide your identity. If Jisung had really paid attention, he could have probably mapped out your features, but you wouldn’t give him the chance. If you were going to do this, you were going to do what you always did, do a damn good job. 

“So let me get this straight.” You take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves and whatever is boiling inside you. “You don’t want me to strip…just dance?”

“Yeah, kind of. We want you to tease him.”

“We want you to do anything you are comfortable with.” Chan and Felix bounce off each other, shooting ideas and ensuring they aren't scaring you away. Why aren’t you scared away? They just asked you to strip tease one of your clients. Why does this ‘idea’ make you excited? 

“So I can choose how far I let this thing go?” you nod your head, and they nod along with you. If he never sees my face…he’ll never know it's me. 

“But I don’t even know what to do.”

“Just let your body carry you doll. Your mind will tell you what to do.” Binnie smiles at you. 

You could hear the distant chatter behind the door. Your heart is thumping out of your chest, and you keep swiping your palms across your thighs. You keep pacing the floor, back and forth, back and forth. You keep fiddling with the chair you so carefully placed in the center of the room, and your eyes keep darting from the chair to the nicely made bed. At least he keeps his bed nice. 

A slight knock makes you jump. “Can I come in?” You can’t tell who the voice belongs to, but it's soft and gentle. 

“Yes,” you respond, trying to sound sexy. 

Chan slowly peeks his head through and steps inside. “Jesus, Chan, you scared the crap out of me. Do you have any idea how nervous I am right now?” 

Chan’s face falls, and his demeanor changes from gentle to dominant in seconds as his eyes wander across your frame. His eyes are darker than the night sky outside the window, and his build suddenly stiffens. You’ve never been intimidated by Chan; you’ve only ever shown respect and admiration, but the way he stands tall and his chest heaves with every breath, you can’t deny that it makes your thighs clench. 

You are fairly covered. The hipster-style underwear you choose to wear hugs your hips but hides the most sensitive parts of your body. The matching stockings clip to the edge of the garments, and the whole outfit is complimented by the push-up bra-style top that does little to hide your breasts. You’ve left your hair down, and the mask brightens your eyes. 

“You look….breathtaking.” 

You can feel the warmth of the blush on your cheeks. You feel so exposed and bare that it makes you want to hide and be brave simultaneously. Chan notices your conflicted thoughts, and without warning, he walks up close to you. Now, his lips are only a few inches from yours. “You know, after this whole thing with Jisung, maybe you could pay me a visit on my birthday?” 

You both chuckle. “God, you are so beautiful,” he said, leaning his forehead against yours. You can feel his warmth, his scent, everything. You're consumed by it. It almost makes you forget why you're here. “And you smell so goddamn good…but today is Jisung’s day” Gently, he kisses your forehead, “Are you ready?” 

You step back, bashing your lashes up at him, and softly nod. Chan leaves the room to yourself, and you begin to get situated. You try to find a comfortable position in the room that makes you look cool and sexy, but it results in you panicking and pacing back and forth over the room, finding a new position every 10 seconds. 

The voices behind the door become louder, and then you hear a slight tap at the door. Quickly, you rush to sit on the bed, crossing your legs and leaning your arms on the bed. Your body is stretched out perfectly for display.

Jisung stumbles through the door, being pushed by his bandmates. You can hear them snicker and laugh until the door closes, leaving only you and Jisung in the room. You can see Jisung’s dazzling smile once he enters the room, but the second he makes eye contact with you, his smile falters, and his eyes grow darker. 

You try not to let your confidence waver as his eyes memorize your every feature. With the mask covering your face, your hair down, and the dim light in the room, there is no way Jisung can tell it's you. For all he knows, his friends have hired a random stranger to do a lap dance for his birthday. All you have to do is keep your confidence up, and he won’t notice a thing. Just keep this mask on, and you can do this. 

The second you lift your body to stand, you hear him curse under his breath. His body is completely frozen in place; he doesn’t make any move to step toward you or the chair in the room. “Hi Jisung,” you say. You’ve practiced how you would talk to him. You wanted your voice to sound husky, dark, and breathy…and you were doing just that.

His brows scrunch; he’s trying to place your voice somewhere. Your heart starts racing with adrenaline, shit he knows, “Hello, beautiful.” 

His face didn’t tell you much, so with that, you continue as if he doesn’t know a thing. You carry yourself to walk around the chair in the middle of the room, letting your hand seductively drag along the rim of the chair. Jisung picks up on your silent request and finally wills his feet to move. 

He sits quietly in the chair, his eyes never leaving your body as it walks around the room. 

“So what? I’m just supposed to dance?” 

“Yeah, just be sexy, you know.” 

Felix’s voice echoes through your mind. Just swing your body, should be easy enough…

Han

His knuckles turn white. His mind goes fuzzy. And his eyes can’t leave your hips. You’ve turned around, giving him a show of your ass swaying right in front of him. He wants to touch you, to squeeze that beautiful ass that you're teasing him with. He wants to pull you down onto his lap and grind himself on you. But most of all, he wants to hear your voice again. He swears he knows it, but he can’t place it anywhere. 

Maybe if you weren’t wearing that damn mask, I could pin you somewhere…or perhaps I could just pin you. 

You start to lower your body. Your hands prop yourself just above his lap. Inches, just inches away from his growing hard-on. 

You’ve done nothing but sway your body in a teasing matter; you haven’t made one move to touch him. “Did the boys tell you to tease me, or are you scared to touch me pretty?” 

You stand up slowly, only to turn around and prop yourself in front of him. Your ass is hanging in the air, and your face is right in front of him. He studies your eyes. Wait…He knows those eyes. He can’t ever forget those crystal eyes. How could he? Those eyes haunt his dreams and his nightmares. 

“They told me to tease you until you begged.” Your lashes fan at him, and Jisung swallows…hard. The way you're positioned right now gives Jisung a perfect view of how your tits practically spill out of your bra; he wills himself not to gawk at your exposed chest. 

“You want me to beg?” his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Well, all you had to do was say so pretty.” Jisung shifts in the chair, suddenly acting like he’s getting comfortable. “Pretty please, miss… will you touch me?”

He sees your demeanor change, your breath caught in your throat, and your eyes widen with every word that leaves his lips. You didn’t think I’d actually beg.

Your hand glides up his chest carefully. It's like ice on burning skin, and you're not even touching his skin yet. The material of his shirt scrunches up into your hand, revealing a bit of his abs. Your eyes dart down, and your lower lip disappears between your teeth. “Want to see more pretty?” Your eyes snap back to him, his signature snarky smile taunting you. 

You lean back to stand up, and Jisung’s heart races again. Did he offend you in some way? Did he take his teasing too far? Did he talk too much?

Your body moves out of Jisung’s sight, walking behind him and the chair. Your hands are back on him, feeling out his shoulders and daring to venture to his biceps. His head rolls back as your touch sends him into a frenzy. 

A low hum leaves his throat. “Just focus on me baby.” His whole body shivers from the nickname, sending shockwaves down his spine. 

His eyes flutter closed, focusing on your hands moving around his body. All his other senses are on overdrive while your fingertips graze the outskirts of his shirt, daring to touch the little skin thats exposed. His body is filled with pent-up anticipation; he could burst and beg at any moment. Until your left hand expertly sneaks down the neckline of his shirt, touching his chest. 

Your touch is soft and gentle, but he can only imagine how sweet you smell. “Does that feel good, Ji”

The second that name falls from your lips, he knows who you are immediately. It might seem like a simple nickname, something one of his bandmates might use, but only one person on this earth says his name like that. Only one person who makes that nickname sound like a song, only one person who could send a warmth through his body with that nickname. “Y/N?” 

His eyes open when he no longer feels your hands on him. He’s afraid that you ran, disappeared, and all of this was just a dream. 

He stands up in a panic in front of the chair, staring at you. He sees your blown-out eyes and your shaky hands. He should’ve known. Now that he’s paying attention, he can see you clearly, even with the mask. How could he not have seen your perfect curves, shiny eyes, and even your lips—he’s studied those lips countless times. 

Your lips part, and your chest heaves, but Jisung interrupts you before any words escape. "Please, don't stop," he implores, locking eyes with you. His desperation is evident, and he's oblivious to how he sounds.

His look makes your stomach turn, and you match his eyes. “But- I-”

“Please,” Jisung whispers. 

Nothing but prayers cloud his mind, desperate for this moment to last. He knows he won’t do anything if you aren’t comfortable, but he is not above begging for what he wants. 

“Okay,” it doesn’t hold the confidence that you had, but it is confirmation—confirmation that Jisung needs. 

Seconds later, he’s back to sitting in the chair, his heart racing out of his chest. When he doesn’t feel your hand back to its original position, he comes up with an idea, “Would it help if my eyes were closed, like before?”

“Strangely, yes.” 

You

You should have known he would catch on quickly, but you didn't think he'd be that quick. When he said your name, you imagined the worst. You thought he would be disgusted, or worse, he would take advantage of the moment. But when he pleaded with you, pouting his lips, all you could think about was how those lips would feel on yours.

Once you could see Jisung’s eyes were closed, you placed your shaky hands back on his shoulders. The contact made him flinch, but as your hands ventured further down his torso, he melted into your touch. 

You could hear his chest hum as your fingertips felt every ridge and detail of his chest. You try to slip the confidence you once had back on, but it's different now. You're not some stranger to him anymore; he knows it's you, yet he didn’t tell you to stop. He begged for you to keep going. 

Something about that realization sets a fire in you. Your hands confidently slide down his torso. You can feel his abs flex under your palm when you press flatly on his stomach.

“You want me to touch you,” you whisper, ghosting his ear. The only response you get is a small whimper from him. Your flat palm snakes down to the already evident bulge thats tented his pants.

“Fuuuuuk,” Jisung breathes out. You can feel his length twitch in your hand, practically begging for attention. 

With more confidence inside you, your other hand sneaks its way to hold Jisung by the neck. You don't squeeze enough to block his breath but enough to have him whimpering in your grasp.

Before you knew it, your hands were sliding up and down Jisung’s clothed member, and Jisung was whimpering and wining with pleas. “Y/N, please” 

“Please, what Ji?” you breathe down his neck. 

“Please kiss me.” You didn’t notice that Jisung’s eyes were wide open now, his neck craned to look at you, staring down at your lips. 

Your shocked expression makes you suck in a breath, parting your lips only for Jisung to smash his lips in return. Jisung’s hand comes to the back of your head, deepening the kiss. 

He tastes like fresh water. A freshness you didn’t know you needed. You resisted falling for his large boba eyes, charming smile, and silly personality, but now you let those buried feelings pour into the kiss.

You can feel his free hand sneak its way to your waist, gently pulling on your skin. You break the kiss, blinking your lashes down at him. You can see his mind catching up to him, the gears ticking, and the worry that he took things too far. “Is- is this okay?” his voice is barely above a whisper. 

You don’t think to answer. Silently, you walk around the chair, coming face to face with him. You sit down on his lap, leaning into him, quickly, Jisung places his hands on your waist, tightening his fists on the delicate fabric that separates your bare core from him. 

“Is this a good enough answer for you?” 

******

If it weren't for your bleeding attraction for the man in front of you, your lips would be chapped and bruised from how much Jisung kept kissing and teasing them. 

Finally, you convinced Jisung to take your little make-out session to the bed, but not before he took his sweet time undoing the lingerie set you had on. Now you're naked on the bed, presented perfectly for a shirtless Jisung that stands before you, looking at you like your his last meal. 

He leans down to trail kisses from your lower stomach to the valley of your breasts, all the way where both of your lips meet. “Please, Ji.” You break the kiss enough to plead his name. 

“Please, what, Y/N?” You both let out a small chuckle. 

You bite your lip at your next words; you’ve gone this far, so why not farther? “Please fuck me”. 

His dazzling smile shines brighter than you’ve ever seen, “thought you’d never ask.” 

Before you know it, Jisung is pulling down his black sweats and boxers. His member springs free in the palm of his hand. You see the prominent veins and his red tip already dripping with a shine of precum. Impressive, you think to yourself, more than impressive, you're actually kind of nervous. With how nerdy and cocky he is, you didn’t think he be that big.

“Are you sure?” Your eyes shoot up to meet his expression. He must have read your thoughts like a projection board. You gulp, nod your head, and bring his shoulder closer to you. 

“Words sweets” 

“Yes, Ji. I’m sure. Please,” you beg. 

With one last kiss, Jisung is aligning his length with your core and slowly pushing in. Your walls stretch to take in the sheer girth of him. The both of you groan with pleasure, your folds slick with your wetness. 

Jisung doesn’t give you more than a second to relish in the feeling until he’s setting a steady pace. You can feel every fat inch expanding your gummy walls around every vein. You let every moan slip, your grip on his shoulders is unbearing, and you let your face fall in pure pleasure.

Jisung cannot get enough of you. The way you let yourself relish in this feeling, the way you let him see you like this, he knows it's too much. You're too much.  

“Y/N, I’m not gonna last long,” he doesn't have to tell you; you can already feel his hips quicken and his cock twitch inside you. 

You knew you could feel yourself getting closer, but you also knew you needed more. Nonetheless, even though you desired this as much as him, it's still his birthday. "It's okay, Ji, let go."

That was all he needed. Jisung whimpers your name as his climax rushes through him. Every nerve stands still on his body and his mind melts.

You try to chase your own high, but it runs faster than you can chase it. He continues with his uneven pace, pushing his white cum into you. 

A combination of apologies and praises leaves him like a breathy chant. “Ji, I told you it's okay. There's always next time,” you smirk. 

“No, no this isn't right.” like a flash Jisung is pushing you further onto the bed and pushing your thighs apart. He lines himself right in front of your dripping sex, he watches the remanence of his release slip out of you. 

You watch him with a shaky breath, until he meets your eyes, “Close your eyes, sweets, just let yourself go” and then you feel his warm muscles lick your folds. You close your eyes like you were told.

His tongue moves faster as he sucks on the small bundle of nerves, eager to pull more sounds from you. The pink muscle flicks and swirls around your clit, inching it further and further out from between your folds. His perfectly pouty lips wrap around the swollen bundle of nerves and sucks and pulls with a rhythm that sends your breath to hitch and freeze in your throat. 

Your walls are swollen, your clit is throbbing, and Jisung knows each and every button to push to get you so close. What sends you over the edge completely is the slender finger that Jisung pushes into you, angling it up to abuse your g-spot. You come crashing onto Jisungs hand with a loud moan. His lips shine as a victim of your release. 

“Now it's right.” 

Words dissolve on your tongue, but Jisung doesn’t expect you to speak. He climbs up the bed, swinging his arm around your middle and burring his head into the crook of your shoulder. Moments later, you're both asleep in each other's arms. 

I guess this was a good idea.   

[warcorrespondence]

@ceeturnalia/traveller wrote this fic called aftermath, usa. I read it a little while back, and then I proceeded to think about it for a long time. It's about love, and about trauma, and the ways we love and the ways we trauma, and how maybe none of them look great from the outside, but we are on the outside, so maybe we should all shut up.

(Shocking no one, @ep6bastogne recommended it to me, but I'm stealing a march on writing the review)

fandom: generation kill

pairing: bradnate

explicit, 24616 words

I started this while sitting on a beach, a calm and idyllic setting if ever there was one, with my heart racing and my jaw clenched.

A month or two before, I said to @screwby, "I really just want an angsty road trip fic, is that so much to ask?"

And behold! The angsty road trip fic of my dreams! Only this particular road trip is precipitated by Nate getting shot.

He stops a couple of bullets intended for the President of the United States (no, he’s not Secret Service, just in the right place at the right time, standing there being Nate Fick). He recovers enough to call Brad to come pick him up from the hospital.

They drive across the country, from DC to San Diego, and it becomes clear that whatever their feelings for each other, they haven’t spoken in 10 years. And yet Brad dropped everything to come get him.

It’s a trip of recovery, of Nate’s health both emotional and physical, of their relationship, of what they meant and could mean, and what they decide they do and will mean to each other.

It's by turns rough and moving, gentle and brutal. It's sexy and sweet and funny all at once.

Is this a long quote? Yes. Yes it is. But it also, for me, fully encapsulates what this fic does, like a punch in the gut (or a weak, post-gunshot attempt at violence).

"I'm asking you for help," Nate says. "You fucking retard." Nate's weak left hand lands on Brad's arm, fist closed. "Was that… was that a punch?" Brad stares, swallowing the rest of the wash of emotion. "Because what I saw was the most limp-wristed pussy faggot attempt at violence since that time Person got in a catfight with a fucking Laker girl." "Fuck you," Nate says, hitting Brad again, a little harder this time, but the effort shows on his face. "Brad." Brad takes his hand, gives the fingers a squeeze. "You're serious." He looks back to the road, the white lines and the blue sky flying by. "Sooner or later, whether or not I want to go back will cease to be an issue." Nate's voice drops, shaking a little. "They'll fuck around for a while longer, probably months, maybe even years, but I'm going to have to. And I'm going to need. Help." Ten years where Nate didn't call, where the emails tapered off and finally stopped altogether. Nate graduated, Nate got married to some Back Bay princess, Nate wrote a book that barely mentioned Brad at all. Nate moved on. And Nate somehow knows, when Brad meets his eyes again, and he shakes his head. "I tried. But I missed you every fucking day," he husks. Brad bites down on the inside of his cheek. He's thirty-nine years old, he's a man, he's a Marine. He's not going to break down like some screaming teenage girl, pissing herself and crying at the latest Disney Channel dicksuck's concert. "You too," he says. Nate leans back in his seat, his whole body going slack. "Wake me when we hit Utah," he says, and closes his eyes.

[thecountoflondonfansite]

Henry gave an annoyed glare at his counterpart's remarks. "You do know that not everything in my life is pathetic and dull Hyde." The being known as Hyde gave a hum and somewhat of a soft smile. "Tis true. Our wee pup Amber is the only bright and exciting part of your life. Though give her time and under my influence, she would be a true force of nature for these gullible buffoons." Hyde spoke in a proud tone. This time Henry did give his counterpart an angry glare. "You will not be corrupting Amber with your terrible influence Hyde!" Henry nearly shouted. Hyde only responded with a wide, cat like grin at Henry, further irritating the teacher. "We'll see doctor...we'll see." "Hey dad we're back!" Becky called out to her father as she entered her home. "Hey kiddo. I'll be out in just a minute." A scratchy voice called from the kitchen. Becky gave a quick okay in response before heading to the living room. Her pet monkey Bob grabbed the remote and plopped down on the couch. He turned to television on and changed the channels until he got to the celebrity network. Meanwhile, Becky had grabbed a Princess Triana book and began to read it while she waited for her dad. Soon Dr. Two Brains exited the kitchen though he was still wearing an apron over his regular clothes. "So how was school today?" Two Brains asked his daughter. "It was good dad. We have a new teacher today that replaced Miss Davis since she had to leave for a family emergency. We mainly did introductions today to get to know each other." Becky explained. Two Brains' eyes widened in surprise. "You got a new teacher?" He asked in confusion. Becky nodded. "Yeah I just met him today. Didn't the school send out any emails about it?" Two Brains let out a tired sigh. "It kind of slipped my mind today Becky. I had a lot to do yesterday." Two Brains responded. Becky gave her dad a sympathetic smile. She knew her dad was a bit scatterbrained even before the accident. The cheese obsession and focus on raising her hadn't helped him that much. Usually her, Bob, the henchmen, her aunt and uncle, and a few other people had to help keep her dad on track with stuff. "Its alright dad." Becky replied. Two Brains gave his daughter a small, grateful smile before moving on from his slip up. "So your knew teacher, who are they and what are they like?" The mad scientist asked. "Oh. His name is Dr. Henry Jekyll. He said he moved here from London with his daughter who is five years old. He is actually a really nice and patient teacher. He also knows a lot of words and I didn't even have to define anything for him. But get this, the most shocking thing was that Tobey was on his best behavior today. Dr. Jekyll looked calm and attentive when Tobey was bragging about himself. What surprised a lot of us was when Dr. Jekyll told him his turn was over, Tobey didn't even throw a tantrum or anything. He peacefully sat down." Becky exclaimed. Dr. Two Brains almost had a slack jawed expression from what Becky told him. "Wow Tobey behaved for someone that wasn't his mother! That guy sounds like a really good teacher." The mad scientist exclaimed in an astonished tone. Becky nodded in agreement. Two Brains wandered if there was anything in his emails about a parent-teacher conference with Becky's new teacher. He wanted to meet the guy that got "The Boy Genius" to behave. In another part of town, Dr. Henry Jekyll soon arrived at an apartment complex. He headed towards the elevator which took him to the second floor after he pressed a button. Henry headed to a particular door marked 'Room 205' and used his keys to open the door. Inside a little girl with orange brown hair and ruby eyes was drawing on a table with a young woman that had curly black hair, dark skin, and green eyes. Henry gave a soft smile at the scene before he announced his presence. "Hello I'm back." The two girls turned their heads. "Daddy!" The young child called out. She dropped her crayons and raced towards her father. @unhingedexperimenter

(You can tag me on my tgs side blog. I also apologize but I know a few Scottish words. So to anyone reading this I apologize for the inaccuracy.) Becky Boxleitner noticed a change in the atmosphere as she and her pet monkey Bob walked into the sixth grade classroom. All of the students were excitedly chatting with one another. Becky and Bob exchanged confused looks at the scene. 'What is going on?' They both thought. Becky walked to where her friends Violet Heaslip, Rose Franklin, and Todd Scoops Ming were sitting, also joining in the excited yet low volume chattering. "Hey guys what's going on?" Becky asked her friends. They each turned their heads to greet their friend. "Hey Becky guess what, we're getting a new teacher for our class!" Scoops exclaimed. Becky looked surprised at the announcement. Bob also mimicked her facial expression. "Wait really? What happened to Miss Davis?" Becky asked, wondering what happened to their old teacher. It was just a week only into the new school year so a sudden teacher exchange was a complete shock to Becky especially since there were no announcements about it beforehand. "Miss Davis had to move back home because of a family emergency." Rose Franklin answered. "The principal had to scramble to find a new teacher to fill in for our class. It was all last minute stuff." Becky nodded in understanding of her friends' answers. It was a nice perk to be friends who were upcoming reporters. Soon the final bell rang which indicated for every student to take their seats. Becky took her place beside her best friend Violet and Bob plopped down next to her. Soon a man who looked to be in his mid 30s walked in and towards the desk. He had curly brown air, an arched nose, and reddish brown eyes. He wore a tan button-down shirt with a red vest as well as brown slacks and dark suede shoes. The man gave a pleasant and warm smile to all the students there. "Hello my name is Dr. Henry Jekyll and I will be your teacher for the school year." Becky and the other kids ears perked up as they took note of the man's accent. Even Tobey became slightly interested in his new teacher. None of them were sure where their new teacher was from. Dr. Jekyll gave a light chuckle as if he could sense their growing curiosity about him. He lightly clapped his hands together to gain their undivided attention and focus. "Well since this is my first time teaching here, why don't we all play a little game so we can all get better acquainted with each other. Here's what to do. One at a time, say your name and share a wee bit about yourself. Likes, family, interests and all that. I'll go first to show ya what ah mean. Again. My name is Dr. Henry Jekyll. I was born in Glasgow but ah moved to London where I attended university. I have a five year old wee lassie or daughter named Amber. I enjoy chemistry and reading on occasions. Now who would like to go next?" @unhingedexperimenter

Of course Tobey had taken the opportunity to place attention on himself and to have a reason to boast about himself. “My name is Tobey McCallister the third and I will be the most intelligent student you'll meet here.” The others had rolled their eyes, used to this kind of behavior from their peers. Becky seemed to be the most annoyed by it. Having been forced to put up with his destructive tantrums in the past. Henry smiled just as warmly as before. Unbothered by the obnoxious behavior that the boy had been displaying. Tobey had been going on about himself for a good few minutes before the teacher finally spoke up. “Ahem, yes. Thank you for that Mr. McCallister. Would anyone else like to tell me a bit about themselves as well?” No one could tell that behind the facade, Dr. Henry Jekyll was becoming more irritated by the moment. Not by the child but by the pest that refused to leave him be. Scoffing within his head at what they just heard. He didn't share the disembodied voice's opinion but wanted to give the other children a chance to introduce themselves as well. To the others' shock, Tobey seemed to have taken this well. Quickly going back to his desk with no issues. Becky was relieved at that. Soon the other children had started to introduce themselves to their new teacher with little to no issues. He seemed genuinely nice enough to her. This new teacher didn't seem like most of the adults within this city. Some she had to define words repeatedly for. Dr. Jekyll knew what he was teaching and knew his vocabulary. It was Violet who had brought Becky out from her own thoughts, calling her name. Waving a hand in front of her face. “Becky?” The girl smiled in an embarrassed manner. “Huh? Yes?” Violet smiled, patient with her best friend. “Why don't you introduce yourself now? Nearly everybody else already did.” She had given a surprised expression. Becky hadn't realized that she was so lost within her thoughts until then. She stood up and began speaking. “My name is Becky Boxleitner and I also like libraries,reading and Pretty Princess.” The presence that was grating at the teacher's nerves had deemed this too dull to enjoy. Leaving Dr. Jekyll be to his teaching. Well, getting to know his students. He was happy to see that they were engaged in these activities that were meant to break the ice. Though one student in particular had caught his attention the most. Becky. While she did seem rather bright, there was something strange about her behavior at times. Pausing whatever she was doing at the time to listen in on something. Thinking it went unnoticed. Even once looking alarmed and she made an excuse to go to the bathroom. He had allowed it. Feeling that it would've been better to have let her. It seemed…oddly familiar. As if he had seen that behavior somewhere before but couldn't figure out exactly where from. When the school day was finally over, Becky had gone to go home like the others. Dr. Jekyll had of course stayed behind to set more things up within his new classroom. Making a plan on exactly what he'll actually start teaching the next day. Though, the grating voice had returned to be a thorn in his side. “Come on. Leave this boring stuff alone. Leave it until tomorrow. I've been pent up for far too long. Let's have some fun.” This had earned an eye roll and a loud huff from the teacher. “No, I've got to get this done now. You will have enough time tonight. Just be patient until then.” A shadowy figure formed in front of Dr. Jekyll. A frown on its face. “But this is so extremely dull. I want to stretch my legs. I want to make myself known already.” Dr. Jekyll glared. “And that is precisely why I'm so hesitant to let you out so soon. At least let us get acclimated to our surroundings first.” The figure let out an annoyed groan. “You know you want this as much as I do. Otherwise you'd never have any actual fun in the sad and pathetic life you call yours.”

@thecountoflondonfansite

[nsheetee]

109 Steps To You

this is a part of the “almost” collaboration hosted by @hyucksie​

Pairing: Haechan x Reader Genre: romance, fluff, angst, mature content, soulmate!AU, college!AU Length: 19k Summary: Everyone is born with two marks on their body: one that is identical to your soulmate’s, and one that is identical to the person who will cause you immense pain. No one knows which mark means what until they live out their life and meet the people destined to bring them love and hurt. However, you were only born with one mark. Out of all the places you thought you would meet the person with the mark identical to yours, you never thought it would be on your first day of college. Warnings/Details: female reader, mentions of other nct members (and yuqi from g-idle), explicit sex (unprotected + the consequences that come with it), mentions of a dysfunctional family, swearing

— read epilogue here

a/n: if you’re a minor: beware! there is explicit and mature content in this fic.

“I want to thank you guys, again, for helping me out today.” You shyly announce to the table, swirling your spoon through your froyo and glancing back and forth between the other people sitting before you.

“Oh, it’s no problem, we weren’t doing anything today anyway.” Xiaojun softly knocks his elbow into yours, sending a reassuring smile your way. If it wasn’t for Xiaojun, an old childhood friend, you weren’t sure how moving into your dorm room and getting settled into campus would’ve gone; you would probably still be a mess right now.

“He’s right. Plus, I really wanted to meet the girl Jun kept raving about, he wouldn’t stop talking about how much we would like you-” Mark’s comment is quickly cut off, a thud under the table and a pained look on Mark’s face giving away that Xiaojun just kicked him.

“I just hope I lived up to the hype.” You laugh at their antics.

“Oh, definitely,” Yuqi quickly buts in before Mark can retaliate back at Xiaojun, “And I live a few floors below you, so just let me know if you need anything at all.” She adds on, her warm deposition and all around friendliness from today making you let out a small sigh of relief, some stress falling off your shoulders when you realize just how many people around you are here to help you out.

“I appreciate it so much, really.” You lean away from Xiaojun and Mark, closer to Yuqi and Lucas who are sitting on the other side of the table, “By the way, I love your guys’ marks. They look so good on both of you.”

At your comment, Lucas puts down his phone and gently grabs Yuqi’s hand, their matching chamomile flower marks touching as their fingers intertwine. You almost didn’t notice their matching marks earlier today when they were helping you set up your dorm room, but when you did, you couldn’t help but stop what you were doing and stare at their hands. Such a simple mark has never looked so pretty to you, maybe it’s because Lucas and Yuqi made such a good pair that their fated marks looked so right for them.

“I still wish I got a cool dragon mark down my back, but I’ll let Jun be the one to deal with that in this life.” Lucas smirks at Xiaojun, who just rolls his eyes at Lucas’ fake jealousy. “Yours looks good, too.” He finishes and glances down at your left hand. There, a dragonfly mark stains your skin, the long tail trailing over your thumb and the wings spreading out over the back of your hand and your wrist.

“Thank you.” Your reply is genuine, however you can’t help but remember the solemn fact that surrounds your mark, your voice inadvertently dipping down as your eyes trace over the wings of your dragonfly.

“So, what kind of classes are you taking this semester?” Xiaojun changes the subject, no doubt hearing the lament in your voice.

“Oh, just some required classes. Nothing for my major, really, except Intro to Ethics for my humanities credit.” You reply as casually as you can to bring the mood at the table back up, but your comment makes Yuqi gasp and all four pairs of eyes at the table turn to you. You slouch in your seat at their sudden attention on you.

“Why would you do that to yourself?”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Do you know your advisor's email? Let’s send them a message right now to get you out-”

“Stop.” You shake your head, laughing a bit at the overreaction from your new friends, “What’s wrong with Ethics?”

“It’s in the Hauss building.” Xiaojun says as if you should already know what that means. You roll your lips in and shake your head; you do not know what that means at all.

“It’s the building all the way on top of the big hill on the west side of campus, by the auditorium.” Xiaojun explains more.

“They only teach three classes over there: Ethics and Music Theory 3 and 4.” Mark sets down his melted froyo, not realizing he has some sticking to his upper lip.

“I’m failing to see what’s so horrible about that?”

“When Xiaojun says it’s a big hill, he means it’s a really big hill-”

“Didn’t someone count the steps once and it came out to be, like, close to 100?” Lucas asks, one hand still tangled with Yuqi’s and the other now rapidly slurping his triple chocolate froyo.

“That was me, and it’s 109 steps.” Mark shutters, “I took Music Theory 3 last year and I ended up skipping half of the time because I couldn’t find the energy to climb up and down those steps three times a week.”

“Why 109? Aren’t groups of steps usually in even numbers? That’s not very architecturally smart.” Yuqi purses her lips and her eyebrows screw together.

“Screw architecture. Are you telling me I’ll have to climb up and down 109 stairs three times a week just to go to Ethics?” You can already feel a headache growing at the back of your head when you think about the complications of dealing with this big staircase. You needed that class for your major, and you thought it was going to be a class that you could pass with flying colors, but it seems like it might just be a nuisance to you more than an easy A.

“Talk to your advisor. Try to drop out and take a different class. Trust me, 109 steps don’t seem like much until you actually have to climb them.” Mark gives you his piece of advice, sticking his spoon filled with froyo into his mouth and then immediately scrunching his eyes and mumbling about brain freeze.

You’ll have to send an e-mail to your advisor real quick, but for your first day of classes tomorrow, you’ll just have to deal with those 109 steps.

The walk to your ethics class the next morning is very calming, the university’s nice landscaping and the warm weather calming your nerves down for your first day of classes. When you round the corner of the stonewall you had been following, you’re met with the infamous set of steps.

You have to crane your neck to look up at the top of the staircase, your jaw slightly dropping at how steep of a hill the stairs were built on. There are other students around you walking up and down the staircase, their headphones shoved in their ears and their heads down as they make the climb to and from class.

The stonewall you had been following all the way here continues up the staircase on your right and on the left is a thick wall of trees, their branches hanging over the stairs and giving protection from the sunlight to the students below. You begin to count every step on your way up; four regular steps, the fifth one a bit longer than the rest, and then repeat. It’s not that you don’t trust Mark’s words when he said there’s 109 steps, you just want to count for yourself.

You hear some rowdy boys coming down the stairs, but the noise is not enough to pull your head up from the ground or to stop you from counting, until you’re forcefully pushed into the stone wall on your right. Breathing in through your teeth sharply, your left hand clutches your collarbones where the pain is the worst.

“Oh, my god. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to push you.” The guy laughs through his words, a high-pitched and almost squeaky laugh, making him sound not as sincere as he probably meant to be. When you turn to face him, the first thing you notice are his eyes. Chocolate colored and almond shaped, some laugh lines showing from the remnants of his shenanigans with his friends.

Looking back, you realize you fell in love with his eyes first. How they don’t hold back from showing any emotion, and the mischievousness they hold no matter what.

Even when his smile falls, his face looks pretty; long hair hanging down over his forehead and ears, and plump lips spreading into an ‘o’ shape as he looks at your dragonfly. Every line and detail is just the same as his own, as if fate spent a little more time with you two to make sure you know you’re each other’s soulmate the moment you meet.

“Your mark…” The man points at your hand, and that’s when you realize who you’ve just met. His brilliant eyes fill with excitement and he starts to breath harder, taking a step back from sheer surprise that you’re here. His soulmate. His one and only for the rest of this life.

However it all fades away the moment you drop your hand from your collarbones, stepping past him to continue up the staircase.

“Next time, watch where you’re going.” The first words you ever say to him are filled with so much indifference that Haechan can only follow your back with his eyes, his jaw slack and his hand still reaching out for you.

“Hey, wait-” Haechan is about to run after you, but he’s held back by Renjun, his best friend and the one who pushed Haechan into you in the first place.

“Was that-” Renjun begins, holding onto his friend’s elbow as he also watches you walk up the rest of the 109 steps.

“Yeah… Why did she ignore me like that? She saw that I have the same mark. We’re soulmates!” Haechan almost cries out in confusion, his heart and mind in a mess. Can you blame him? He’s been waiting to meet his soulmate since he knew what the dragonfly on his hand meant. Haechan has never been a patient person, and even waiting several years for you to come to him was testing him. Now that you’re here, he isn’t going to let you go easily.

As Haechan begins to walk back up the staircase to follow you, not caring about his Literature class in 15 minutes, Renjun’s grip on him tightens and pulls him back.

“You can’t just go harass her about this.”

“I’m not going to harass her. I just want to talk.” Haechan tries to pull out of Renjun’s grip again, but the little man has the sturdiness of a boulder and pulls his friend back.

“Maybe she doesn’t want a soulmate?” Renjun and Haechan stop their tug of war at Jaemin’s words. He had been leaning against the handrail by the trees the whole time while watching the scene unfold in front of him, his arms crossed over his chest and his baseball cap covering his eyes. “It’s not that uncommon these days.”

Haechan and Renjun let go of each other at their friend’s words. Jaemin sends them a bitter smile and all three of them recall the incident that happened last year when Jaemin met his own soulmate:

A rejection.

Jaemin took it hard; if it hadn’t been for his best friends, he doesn’t know where he would be in life right now. Jaemin can’t help but let the memories surface as he continues to walk down the stairs, slower than before, his head bowed and his hands shoved into his pant pockets. Renjun sends Haechan a look that tells him to not push the situation further, following Jaemin down the stairs.

Haechan sends your retreating figure one last look, watching you reach the top of the staircase and walk into the Hauss building. He retreats and follows his friends dejectedly, the promise of you showing up on this staircase at the same time on Wednesday being the only thing that lets his legs follow his friends down the stairs.

“Hey, ___, come in.” Mark smiles brightly when he recognizes you at the door, stepping aside to let you into the dorm room. “Xiaojun is in the shower still… Will you be okay by yourself if I leave?” He looks unsure as you set your backpack down on Xiaojun’s desk chair.

“Oh, I’ll be fine. You do whatever you need to.” You state and then plop down onto your friend’s bed. You hear Mark laugh and say something about how all the first years look tired at the end of their first day and then leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. You lay sprawled out on the bed, the only sounds surrounding you is the water from the shower and the ticking of the analog clock on the wall.

Even though the whole ordeal happened several hours ago, you haven’t been able to get the moment you met your soulmate out of your mind. It was almost impossible for you to turn around and walk away. Even now, your feet still itch to go back to that staircase and find the sweet looking guy who you no doubt left confused.

However, you can’t do that— you won’t let yourself do that. And that’s partially why you’re in Xiaojun’s dorm room after your last class today: so that he can knock some sense into you.

The shower turns off and a few moments later, the bathroom door opens and Xiaojun steps out. He has a towel wrapped around his waist and a smaller one on his shoulders to catch the droplets from his hair; when he sees you laying on his bed, he jumps in fright.

“Good, God,” He sighs and clutches his bare chest with one hand, the other protectively going to the towel around his waist. “Can you say something the next time you come over? I almost had a heart attack because of you.” He walks over to his closet on the other side of the room, rummaging through some clothes as you sit up.

“Sorry, I thought you heard the door open…” You trail off, getting distracted by Xiaojun’s mark. The dragon on his back is huge, taking up most of the area and spreading to his shoulders and upper arms, too. However, that’s not the mark that caught your attention. Right on his ankle sits a three-leaf clover, so small and such a stark difference from the monster drawn on his back.

You’re pulled away from your thoughts when Xiaojun turns around and walks back into the bathroom, this time leaving the door open, “So, how was your first day?”

“Oh, well, it was okay…” You trail off, speaking a bit louder so that he could hear you from the other room. You stand up and start pacing in the space between Mark’s and Xiaojun’s beds, a nervous habit of yours.

“But? I know there’s a ‘but’ somewhere.” Xiaojun replies.

“Well, something happened…” You trail off, not sure how to make the words leave your mouth yet.

“What is it?” You swallow at the question, your throat dry and hands clammy. You must’ve been taking a long time to answer because Xiaojun walks out of the bathroom, now fully clothed, and stares at your pacing form. “What’s wrong, ___.”

“I met him.” You say simply, hoping Xiaojun gets what you mean, but he doesn’t. You sigh and sink down to the floor slowly, catching yourself on Xiaojun’s bed. The action makes his eyes widen in fear and he crosses the room in a few short strides, kneeling down next to you and searching your eyes for the answer.

“What? What is it?”

“The person with the same mark as me. I met him.”

“... Oh.”

Xiaojun slowly slides down onto his butt in front of you, folding his legs. He’s not sure what to say, or how to comfort you in anyway. He didn’t expect to be the only person around that you trust when something like this happens. He sees the lost look in your eyes and slides towards you to pull you into a hug.

Unlike Xiaojun, and most people in the world, you do not have two marks.

Xiaojun’s dragon and clover match with two different people in this world; one who will be his soulmate and the other who will bring him immense pain. Everyone has two marks— except you; it even states it on your birth certificate, your parents can testify that they’ve never seen a second mark on you, just the lonely dragonfly that spreads its wings over your left hand.

When you were younger, you were curious about what it meant to only have one mark. The people around you always had two marks, the people on the TV shows you liked to watch always had two marks, even anatomy books have depictions of humans with two marks. Why were you different? What did it mean?

After gathering up the guts to type the question into the Google search engine, you found your answers, and it changed your thoughts on your one and only mark forever. The people in the world who only had one mark testified to the same story online: the person who’s mark matched theirs were both their soulmate and the person who hurt them the most.

After learning about that, you promised yourself that if you ever met the person with the same mark as you, you would not meddle with them in any way if they were only destined to bring you pain in the end.

If you knew jumping off a bridge would definitely kill you, you wouldn’t jump, right?

Xiaojun is the only person, other than your parents, who knows about the situation. Which is why when he hugs you, you lean into him and accept his comfort.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about. You must have so many questions.” He mumbles into your hair.

“Not questions. I’m just curious about what I am to him.” You reply, whispering into Xiaojun’s shoulder.

“About what you are to him?”

“I know he’ll be the person I’m meant to love the most, and also the person who will hurt me the most. But am I the one that’s supposed to love him or the one that’s supposed to hurt him?”

“Lots of people say that they can feel it when they meet. Like Lucas, he said he instantly knew Yuqi was supposed to be his soulmate.” Xiaojun thinks back to all the people who have told him the exact same thing, even his parents.

“The guy… he kept calling me his soulmate. He sounded so sure about it, too.” You lean away from Xiaojun to look into his big and curious eyes.

“What about you? What did you feel?” He asks.

“It felt… like I left a part of myself with him.” Xiaojun’s eyes widened at that, “Is that crazy? I was only around him for a minute, maybe less, and I can’t stop thinking about how I never wanted to leave. It was so hard to walk away from him..” You trail off, feeling tears suddenly gather at the edges of your eyes.

“Xiaojun…” The edge in your voice makes him grab a hold on your hands, “I don’t want him to hurt me. I’m not ready for it.”

“Hey, hey…” Xiaojun squeezes your hands before gently guiding your face to his, meeting his eyes with your own, “He’ll hurt you eventually, yeah, but he’ll also be the person who is supposed to love you unconditionally. The person who is going to know you so well, better than yourself. Maybe you should see where he takes you in life? Destiny still wanted you to meet each other no matter what the end game is going to be… Are you really going to tell fate to fuck off?”

“Can’t I?” Your response makes Xiaojun laugh, which he apologises for laughing in a serious situation right after, but the mood is already broken and you laugh at yourself a bit as well.

“C’mon, let’s order something to eat and get your mind off of this, even if it’s just for a few hours.” Xiaojun pulls you off of the floor and reaches for his phone, trying to find the phone number to his favorite delivery place.

You sit on his bed once again, your hands limp in your lap and so much appreciation for Xiaojun in your chest. You probably would’ve gone insane if he wasn’t here for you. His suggestion on giving the guy you met today a chance plays like a record in your head, but the record scratches when you remember the promise you made to yourself a long time ago.

Don’t mess with him. He will only bring you pain in the end.

On Wednesday, Haechan is the first one out of his seat in his Music Theory 3 class, not even waiting for the slow Renjun and even slower Jaemin before sprinting out of the classroom and outside, waiting at the top of the staircase for your figure to appear at the bottom.

Students float up and down the stairs, but he doesn’t see you anywhere amongst them. Eventually, Renjun and Jaemin catch up to him, standing behind him and also staring down the long staircase.

“C’mon, Haechan, we need to go to our next class.” Renjun is the first one to step down, followed by Jaemin. Haechan takes a good look at everyone’s faces on his way down, getting some weird looks sent his way for staring, but he doesn’t care.

“Haechan.” Jaemin suddenly calls out, making his friend turn suddenly to look at him. Jaemin only nods his head to the bottom of the stairs where you just turned the corner. Despite his hurry from before, Haechan stops at the sight of you. His usual confidence is lost when he sees you climb the stairs. Now, he’s not sure if he should approach you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Renjun nudges Haechan, but the younger only turns around to look at his friend.

“I don’t know what to say to her. What do I say to make her see I’m her soulmate?” Haechan asks, helplessness seeping into his words.

Renjun rolls his eyes; whenever his best friend needs to be the usual confident man he is, that’s when the confidence is most likely to drain out of him. Renjun shakes Haechan’s shoulders with a tight grip on his jacket, making some more people send the two of them some weird looks.

“She’s your soulmate, right? Fate already gave you everything you need to know about how to talk to her.” Renjun then pushes his friend towards your direction, “But for the love of god, don’t harass her.” Renjun ends with a pointed look and continues walking with Jaemin down the stairs.

Haechan slowly makes his way to you, crossing over to the middle of the staircase and stopping you in your tracks. You look up to inspect who it is that just stopped in front of you, and your surprise fades when you realize it’s the same guy from Monday.

“Hi.” He says simply. You only nod your head, lips pursed, and then move around him to continue walking to class.

“Wait…” Haechan calls after you, but you don’t stop this time. So Haechan keeps walking after you, only one step behind, “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but you’re my soulmate. I’ve been waiting for you for so long—” You sharply turn to face him, making Haechan cut off and tilt his head up to look at you.

“How do you know I’m your soulmate? What if I’m not?” You ask. Haechan shakes his head softly at that, his golden hair moving over his sun-kissed skin as he does.

“That’s not possible.”

“How do you know?” You ask. Haechan loves how curiosity burns in your eyes. He takes longer than normal to speak only so that he can look over your features and memorize them to the best of his ability. Last night, he tried to recall your face but the image came out so blurry since he only saw you for a moment on Monday. He wants to clearly remember what you look like.

“How about I take you somewhere, and then I’ll tell you?” The proposition stuns you, and your burning curiosity makes you want to say yes. However, going anywhere with him would be breaking your promise to yourself, so you decide to forget it.

“Nevermind…” You mumble, turning around to walk up the stairs again.

“You seem like you really want to know how I’m sure we’re soulmates… Aren’t you curious?” Haechan asks, making you stop in your tracks again. This man has only known you for a day, only talked to you for a few moments, yet he already knows how to get you to do something. “I promise I won’t hurt you, and I’m not lying either.”

You take a moment to think about the proposition. You’re really curious about how he’s so sure that you’re soulmates. Sure, you know you’re soulmates, but why is he so sure you aren’t the person who’s supposed to hurt him? You consider taking up the offer, but can you stay strong to your own promise while being close to him?

Curiosity wins, and you turn back around to face him, nodding and making him smile widely. There’s that crinkle in his eyes again, that sparkle against the sun that makes saying yes to him so much more worth it.

“My friends call me Haechan, but you can call me Donghyuck. That’s my real name.” He sticks out his hand for you to shake. You once heard that physical touch brings soulmates together quicker; you’re not sure if that’s true, but you don’t want to test it.

“I’m ___.” You nod at him and grip onto your backpack straps instead of accepting his handshake.

“Haechan, hurry up or we’ll be late!” You both hear Renjun shout out from the bottom of the stairs, “And on our second day, too.” You hear him groan.

“Okay, ___, I’ll see you here at 7pm tomorrow night.” Haechan turns around to run back to his friends, sending you one last wave goodbye and almost tripping down the stairs as he does.

You take a deep breath and turn around to walk up the rest of the steps. You’re unsure if you did the right thing by agreeing to see him tomorrow night, but the deed is now done, and you can only wait for Donghyuck to quench your curiosity.

As promised, you meet Donghyuck at 7 o’clock sharp the next day. He’s already waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs.

“So, where are you taking me?” You ask after saying your hello’s.

“It’s a surprise.” He smiles and nods his head to make you follow him. He leads you through parts of campus you haven’t seen yet, the buildings looking older and older the further down the path you walk. Soon, Donghyuck takes a sharp turn into what looks like the middle of the forest but is really just a small, hidden extension of the trail.

Under a canopy of tall trees that wave with the wind to you and Donghyuck, there is a skinny trail that leads to glimmering water. It draws you in, your curiosity struck and your feet now moving on their own accord. Bushes tickle your ankles and the smell of some sort of flower you cannot identify floods your senses, but you can only keep walking towards the sparkling water.

The scene in front of you takes your breath away, a crisp gasp that you have no control over leaves your lips. The pond before you is big, stretching further than what you can see. The water is blue and the setting sun’s light reflects off of it to create rippling sparkles. There are some lily pads floating around, their flowers gone due to the temperature dropping recently.

You didn’t even notice that you stopped walking, your eyes wide as you take in the scenery before you. You almost forget who you’re with and why you came, but Donghyuck doesn’t let that happen. You snap out of it when he continues to walk along the trail that leads around the pond. You walk alongside Donghyuck, a few feet away with your hands awkwardly tucked into your pockets.

“C’mon, let’s sit.” He motions to a weeping willow tree. It’s tall and the branches sway pleasantly in the wind, completely unaware and indifferent to the years of history in the area. Underneath the tree is a sturdy bench, you sit on the left side while Donghyuck sits on the right side. Then, you both take a few moments to stare at the mesmerizing water that led you all the way to this seemingly magical place.

“Why did you bring me here?” You ask after a bit.

“Do you not like it?” Donghyuck asks back.

“No.” You quickly reply, looking over his side profile before turning back to the water, “I’m just curious.”

“Something in me knew you would like this place, that’s all.” Donghyuck replies while trying to hide his proud smile, looking down at the grass. “You’re curious about a lot of things, huh?”

“Yeah, I can’t help it. There’s just so much I want to know.” It’s easy to talk to him, a bit too easy. You have to keep reminding yourself that you’re supposed to have your guard up in front of him, but it’s proving harder than you thought it would be.

“Like how I’m sure that you’re my soulmate and not the person who is supposed to hurt me?” Donghyuck leans his weight away from you, his eyebrow cocked in a question. You nod your head lightly, playing with your hands on your lap.

“It’s because I’ve already met the person who’s supposed to bring me pain. I’ve already been hurt.” At his words, surprise fills you up and you turn your head to look him straight in the eye.

For some reason, you always thought that when people meet the person who brings them the largest amount of pain to their life, they couldn’t be the same ever again. How does one get hurt so badly, and still live on?

There are so many ways to hurt someone. Some people become bankrupt, some people lose all of their belongings, some people are even physically hurt by the person who has the same mark as them. How does a person go through any of that and still be themselves afterwards? More importantly, how did Donghyuck go through immense pain and still be able to smile at you like he is right here, right now?

“Here.” He begins to explain, pushing his pants around until you can see his second mark through one of the holes in his jeans, a sunflower on his knee, “My dad had the same mark as me.”

“Your…. Dad?” You ask, still confused.

“Mhmm,” He nods, now tracing the petals of the sunflower mark absentmindedly, “My parents immediately knew something was wrong when I was born. Why would a son and dad have the same mark? When I was growing up, he worked a lot, so I spent lots of time with my mom and grew closer to her. I don’t remember much from that time, but I do remember we were happy. We didn’t have a lot, but we had each other; that kind of feeling.” He looks over at you to see if you’re keeping up with the story. To Donghyuck’s surprise, you already have tears lining your eyes.

“Then one day, Dad comes home and tells us he lost his job. I remember my parents fought a lot the few weeks after that happened, mostly about how to raise me if they had no income. Dad would go out and look for work, but always came back with no luck. So eventually, my mom started working. For a while, the reason we could keep living was because of her.” Donghyuck swallows and pauses for a moment before continuing.

“And then one night, dad came home and told us he gambled. Everything, he gambled everything away. Even the little that we had, it wasn’t ours anymore. That night, my dad told me I was a mistake. My parents never meant to have me, and he said…” Donghyuck purses his lips for a moment. It had been a while since he thought about this. The scar on his heart still hurts when he picks at it. “... He said that he wished I had never been born. Then, we wouldn’t have been in that mess.”

“How old were you?” You speak up after a moment.

“Seven? Or eight.” He nods and sniffs his nose, looking down at his knee. The whole day, Donghyuck was preparing himself to tell you this story. He felt that the only way to get close to you was to open up like this first, to show you that he isn’t someone scary or bad. To Donghyuck’s surprise, telling this story hurts less now than it did earlier in this life. Maybe that means time is working, and his heart is being mended bit by bit.

Donghyuck leans his elbows against his knees, looking at the water once again while waiting for you to say anything. Are you still curious? What do you think of him now?

He was in no way prepared to feel your arms wrap around his waist in a hug, your head resting against his shoulder and your chest pressed against his side. He freezes for a moment, and then melts into your embrace completely. He’s overcome with lovesick softness for you, lightly griping the part of your arm that’s across his chest as his head turns to the side to press a kiss to the top of your head. It’s so quick that you don’t even have time to move away or to react. You just let it happen, as it’s supposed to be.

“You said that something in you knew I would like this place,” You mumble against him. He hears your voice straining with emotion, “Well, something in me knows that you need this right now.”

You and Donghyuck sit there until the sparkling water is no longer fueled by the sun’s light, but by the moon’s. It seems as though now you’ve touched Donghyuck, you never wanted to stop. You’re almost one hundred percent sure that it’s because of the soulmate bond, and a part of you nags at yourself for already chipping away at the promise you made to yourself when you were younger.

However, younger you never knew what it would be like to have a person sit in front of you and share a part of his past with you in an act of confidence and security. Your younger self never knew what it would be like to feel the same pain as someone else, and the pull you felt to touch him after sensing that physical affection would help ease that pain away.

Your younger self had no idea it was this easy to fall into a person, especially when you know they’ll catch you.

“God, I’m so sick and tired of Accounting. ___, I’m quitting school.” Xiaojun gravely tells you, his eyes not wavering from his computer screen.

“Shut up and do your homework, Jun.” You mumble, your eyes not leaving your own computer screen as you type up your Ethics essay. Three weeks into school and you’re already fully emerged in your classes. The newness of college has faded and now it’s time to start the next four years of studying endlessly for the future.

“Are you guys… okay? You haven’t moved over there in a few hours.” Mark asks from the other side of the room where he’s doing his own homework. He eyes you and your best friend from where you’re sitting on his bed, “Are you even comfortable?”

You and Xiaojun are sharing a blanket, he’s leaning against his headboard and you’re leaning against the wall. Your legs are thrown over his and several textbooks are scattered over the blanket. You’re not even sure which of these books are yours or his, or which papers laying in messy stacks belong to who.

“Yeah, I think we’re okay. We’ve been studying like this since high school.” Xiaojun answers, his fingers moving along his keyboard at the same time. You nod at Mark and he shakes his head, not understanding you two but accepting the answer.

You’re over at the guys’ dorm room enough that Mark is not surprised to see you here anymore, hanging out with Xiaojun or waiting for him to come back from class. It’s not that you don’t like your own dorm room, but it’s always so quiet in there since your roommate always studies at the library. You only hear her come into the room late at night when you’re on the verge of sleep, and when she leaves early in the morning before your alarm rings. Weekends are the same. You don’t really care, but you’ve started to hate the quiet, so you’re glad that Mark and Xiaojun don’t mind you chilling here.

“Argh,” Mark yawns and stretches after a few minutes, throwing his computer to the side and standing up, “I’m getting some snacks from the vending machine. You guys want anything?”

After you and Xiaojun answer with simultaneous shakes of your heads, which creeps Mark out, he leaves the room to get food. The room is silent for a few more moments until Xiaojun angles the lid of his laptop down to look at you.

“So… How’s the guy?”

“What guy?” You ask, still preoccupied with your essay.

“Your soulmate, ___, what other guy is there?” Xiaojun answers exasperatedly, “You never told me his name, so I don’t know what to call him. Actually, I haven’t heard you talk about him since the first day of classes. I was hoping you’d tell me what happened with him, but I guess I have to go digging up your dirt myself.” He rolls his eyes.

“His name is Haechan.” You answer, moving your computer to the side, “And I haven’t said anything to you about him because… I haven’t seen him in weeks.” You admit quietly.

“Huh? Didn’t you say you were meeting up so he could tell you why he’s sure you’re his soulmate?” You nod your head at the question, “So, what happened after that?”

“Well… I kinda, maybe, sort of…. have been avoiding him.” You answer quietly, stealing a glance at your best friend to see him staring at you blankly. When he sighs and reaches for his pillow, your eyes widen and you hold up your hands in front of you, spewing pleas and ‘wait’s. Xiaojun doesn’t care, though, flinging his pillow from behind him and into your face.

“Ow?” You whine after the pillow makes contact with your head and forces you to turn to face the other way, “Was that necessary?” You rub your nose, the part of your face that hurts worse from his attack. You’re used to Xiaojun doing this to you whenever you did something that both of you know you shouldn’t have so that you can “get some sense knocked into you, hopefully.”

“You’re so dumb. So, so dumb. Why would you avoid him.” It’s not a question, more of a confused statement to the general air. “You realize people would kill to meet their soulmate, right? People would do anything to be in your position, but you just hide away?”

“People would do anything to meet their soulmate, but people would also do anything to stay away from the person who shares their other mark.” You retaliate, “You don’t understand. To me, Haechan is both of those people.”

“There you go again, worrying about the future when you’re not even sure about what is going to happen. When will you stop worrying about something you can’t control and start thinking about today?” Xiaojun sounds so tired talking about this topic, a conversation you’ve had many times in your friendship. You wonder if he’s so tired of it, why he keeps bringing it up himself.

Before you can answer, the door to the room opens and Mark walks in, several snacks in his arms, “Hey, everyone, I hope it’s okay I brought a friend. He’s in the same major as me, just a year younger—”

“___?” Mark stops talking when his friend speaks, surprised that he already knows one of the people in the room. Your eyes widen, jaw slackening as you’re unable to even let out a peep from your mouth.

“You know each other?” Mark asks, looking between his two friends.

“Yeah, you could say I know my soulmate.” Donghyuck replies, making both Xiaojun and Mark’s eyes widen. You suddenly realize the situation you’re in: under a blanket with Xiaojun, your pajamas on, and your soulmate in front of you after you ghosted him for weeks. For the first time in a while, your eyes meet.

Donghyuck is mad. You can tell by how his fists are clenched and his jaw is tightened. Slowly getting out of the bed, you try to form some words, but Donghyuck snaps and walks over to you quickly. Grabbing your hand, he pulls you out of the room and down the hallway until you get to the lounge area. When you reach the empty room, that’s when you come to your senses.

“Donghyuck,” You pull your arm out of his, making him turn to face you, “I’m not even wearing shoes.” You hiss, pointing down to your feet as if to prove some point.

“What was all that?” He disregards your comment and hisses back at you, stepping closer so that you’re barely a few inches apart. “You were under a blanket. With some guy. Don’t you feel wrong doing that?” He asks, his hands now on his hips. You feel slightly like you’re being lectured to.

“That guy is my best friend.” You spit out.

“So, do you go around and do that to all of your guy friends?” Donghyuck chuckles vehemently, you can tell he’s angry and jealous, and that those emotions are clouding his brain at the moment. That doesn’t mean his words don’t hurt, though.

“Xiaojun and I have been best friends since we were in diapers. I’ve known you for three weeks, barely. I’m more comfortable around him than I am with you. You think just because I’m your soulmate, I’ll automatically trust you and we’ll all of a sudden be a happy couple? It doesn’t work like that, Donghyuck. I don’t even know you.” You can tell you hurt him by your last words because he turns silent, his shoulders slouching and his anger subsiding.

You can tell you hurt him, hard, because you feel the hurt, too.

It makes you realize how scary the bond between soulmates is. Even though you and Donghyuck haven’t spent that much time together to strengthen your bond, it’s still strong enough to allow you to feel his emotions. It makes you wonder if Donghyuck will be able to feel your pain in the future when he hurts you, like he’s destined to.

“Have you even tried to get to know me? You’ve been avoiding me ever since I took you to the pond.” At his comment, you fold your arms over your chest and look away, not ready to answer that question.

“I’m… just scared, is all.” You manage to reply. Although not the complete truth, it’s not a total lie. Donghyuck completely softens at your words, his close proximity to you feels less threatening and turns into something more gentle. His hand softly slips into yours, but this time with a lighter touch than before.

“You don’t have to be scared, not around me. I’m new to this too, so I don’t know how it all works yet, but this is something we can figure out together. That’s what we were fated to do.” Donghyuck can feel his words pulling you closer to him, he can feel you on the edge and he’s ready to catch you with his arms wide open.

But in the last second, you take a step back and slip your hand out of his, making his drop limply to his sides. You send him a look, something he can’t read, and then turn around and walk back to the dorm he pulled you out of.

He almost had you, almost.

When midterms come around, you use your upcoming tests and projects as a way to dive deep into your work so that you don’t have to think about Donghyuck. It’s a good plan overall, however your friends quickly start worrying for you and your health. Staying up late several nights in a row and not even being able to remember when the last time you ate is where Xiaojun pulled the plug on your bad studying habits. He confiscated your backpack and dropped you off in front of your dorm building with the promise that you’ll have all of your things back tomorrow morning only if you rest for tonight.

On your way to the elevator, you run into Yuqi, both of your facial expressions brightening when you recognize each other.

“Oh, ___, Hi!” You stop in the middle of the hallway to greet her, a smile pulling at your lips due to her bright hello. “How are you?”

“Midterms are kicking my ass, but other than that I’m fine.” She laughs at your answer, throwing her head back and letting her new short hair ruffle her shoulders.

“I wish I could tell you it gets better, but that would be a lie.” You nod your head in solemn understanding, “Listen, I can’t talk for long since I have a night class, but promise to text me when things slow down, yeah?”

“Of course, I promise.” You nod, just the thought of spending some time with a good friend already pushes away your stress. You wave bye to Yuqi as she begins to turn around but after a loud “oh!” leaves her lips, she turns back to face you.

“Your roommate, her name is Mya, right?” At her random question, you tilt your head in confusion, “She has really long, black hair and big glasses, right? I think I saw her when I was helping you move in?”

“Yeah, that’s her.” You nod, “Why?”

“She found her soulmate today.” You would’ve been more interested in the news if you knew Mya beyond when she goes to class and when she gets back to the dorm, but you feign surprise and nod your head absentmindedly.

“Lucas managed to get a video. It was a whole performance in the quad today, you’d think someone was getting married. I’ll send it to you later.” And with that, she says her last goodbye and runs off. You slowly turn and continue walking in a slow pace up to your dorm room, taking the stairs just so you can have some time to think and be away from people you could potentially run into if you use the elevator.

You’re genuinely happy for Mya, even if you barely know a single thing about her. However, something about a person close to you finding their soulmate makes you sad, considering the situation with your own soulmate. You can’t help but feel a little jealous that there are people who can meet their soulmate and fall into each other’s lives easily.

In times like these, you crave for Donghyuck.

You crave his touch and his words, you crave that comfortable feeling of belonging somewhere you get when he’s around. It’s insane that you haven’t spent much time together, yet you can yearn for someone to the extent that it hurts. It’s been like this ever since Donghyuck pulled you out of Xiaojun’s dorm and you rejected him.

Turning away from him all those weeks ago still haunts you. When you’re struggling to fall asleep, your mind goes to that night. When you let your mind wander, it wanders to that night. You constantly think about stepping away from him, but you’re not sure if you keep remembering the moment out of guilt or shame. One of the questions you keep asking yourself is if you did the right thing. You still do not have an answer.

When you walk into your dorm room, you kick off your shoes and turn on your bedside lamp, falling onto your bed with a deep sigh. You close your eyes for a second, but the peace and quiet of your room is ruined when your phone dings with a notification.

Yuqi’s message pops up, and when you swipe your phone open you can see she sent a video. You click on it and turn the volume up. This was no doubt taken earlier today in the quad, the sun shining and lots of professors and students walking in the background. Under the huge clock tower stand two people, one of them holding a large bouquet of roses. When the clock strikes noon, the bells on top of the tower begin to ring a familiar melody that can be heard all over your big campus. You see the exchange of the bouquet and the two people hug, and then applause rises from the people walking by. You smile when you hear Lucas’ whooping and hollering from behind the phone.

You’ve heard about the tradition of soulmates meeting under the clock tower at your university. Yuqi told you about it when she was giving you a tour around campus at the beginning of the semester. You remember her telling you that it’s really romantic, probably due to the history of so many people getting together in the exact same spot.

Although the idea is rather plain, you do feel your heart strings tug at the beautiful display, glad you could see something like this through a video. Then, as the camera gets closer to the couple, your smile fades and you pause the video, zooming in to get a better view. Mya is no doubt the one who received the flowers, but you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows as you recognize her soulmate.

It’s one of Donghyuck’s friends.

Not the quiet one with black hair that hangs around on the outside of their group, but the shorter one who seemed to simultaneously love and hate Donghyuck, or at least that’s what you gathered from seeing him a few times.

After the realization, you drop your phone to the side and stare up at your ceiling in defeat. Is this fate? If you didn’t meet Donghyuck on those steps two months ago, would you eventually meet him through your roommate and her soulmate? Or is this all just one big coincidence?

In this world, coincidences are harder to find than the work of fate.

Your train of thought is quickly cut off by the opening on the door, you quickly sit up to watch a huge red bouquet of flowers enter the room, followed by your roommate. You’ve only seen her face a few times this semester, but never have her features looked so bright and happy. She also looks startled when she notices you’re in the room, but her happiness doesn’t fade.

“Oh? You’re here?” She asks.

“I could ask you the same thing.” You both chuckle awkwardly, “Congrats, by the way. For finding your soulmate.” You motion to the flowers in her hand.

“Thank you! To be honest, Renjun wasn’t at all what I expected in a soulmate, but I think I love him already.” The sweetness drips from her eyes and words, and you nod and smile, remembering that Donghyuck’s friend’s name is Renjun. Her phone begins to ring and she shuffles the flowers in her hand to look at the screen, “Oh, it’s him.”

She answers the call, speaking quietly as she walks over to her side of the room. You weigh out the options of sneaking out of your dorm and finding a place to chill until your roommate falls asleep. You're not sure if you can talk to her about soulmate stuff and keep up this happy look on your face.

However, all thoughts of those plans leave your mind when Mya turns to you and holds out the phone, “It’s for you?” She says it more like a question, but you’re sure you’re the one who’s more confused.

“Hello?” You ask into the phone, awkwardly looking around the room.

“___? Oh, thank god. It’s Renjun, Haechan’s friend. I need your help.” He talks quickly and shallowly, like he’s out of breath and currently moving somewhere.

“How did you know I’m Mya’s roommate?” You ask, disregarding his cry for help.

“It’s a long story, I promise I’ll explain later, but can you please come to the auditorium? The back entrance.” You hear more voices in the background of the call, but you can’t make out what they're saying. One of them is definitely Donghyuck.

“What’s going on?” At the sound of your soulmate’s unique tenor, you suddenly become more aware of what might be happening. Is Donghyuck safe? Did he get in trouble?

“Donghyuck drank too much and he won’t go home, he keeps asking for you.” At that, you hand the phone back to Mya, who takes it from you with an unsure look. By the time Mya says her worried goodbyes and hangs up, she turns back to an empty dorm room, your phone snatched from your bed and your scattered shoes gone.

You must’ve made it to the auditorium in record time, not even the climb up the 109 steps could slow you down. When you reach the auditorium, you can hear Donghyuck and his friends conversing loudly and you follow their voices, which eventually leads you to the dingy backside of the auditorium. Donghyuck is sitting on the ground with the hood of his coat pulled up and covering his eye sight, arms crossed over his chest and his lips in a pout. His two friends, Renjun and the black-haired kid, stand above him. The quiet one is shivering in his spot while Renjun practically yells at Donghyuck on the ground, who doesn’t seem to be moving any time soon.

“Hi, ___.” The quiet one notices you first and then all three guys turn to look at you.

“___…” Donghyuck whines out your name and tries to stand up but Renjun gently pushes him back down.

“What happened?” You ask, sniffing your nose when the harsh, cold air nips at it.

“He said he wanted to unwind before his midterms tomorrow but then he went out and had some drinks, a few too many as you can see.” Renjun explains, “We followed him here, he said he won’t go anywhere unless it’s with you.”

“It’s strange. Haechan is a good drinker, I didn’t think he would get drunk so quickly… Oh, I’m Jaemin, by the way.” He introduces himself with a bright smile, as if you weren’t just discussing the drunken state of his friend.

“I’m Renjun, I called you earlier. I promise I have a good explanation for how I know you’re Mya’s roommate, I just don’t think right now is the best time to talk about it.” Renjun explains, his hands pointing towards Donghyuck.

“Right, about him… I think you guys should leave.” Both sober men widen their eyes, looking at each other and then back at you.

“Are you sure you want to handle this yourself? He looks small, but Haechan is kind of heavy.” Jaemin warns.

“Hey!” Donghyuck speaks up, but even his verbalization sounds slurred. When he points an accusing finger at Jaemin, he sways and misses Jaemin’s figure by a whole foot, “Don’t say that kind of stuff to my girlfriend.”

At his use of the word, Jaemin and Renjun stand straight with awkwardness and you sigh, white puffs of air leaving your mouth, “Yeah, you guys should go.”

Renjun and Jaemin give you an unsure look, but turn around and leave the area anyway. Renjun sends one last look over his shoulder with a wave of his hand. You look at Donghyuck after they turn the corner, kicking his shoe gently.

“Hey, get up. How much did you drink?” You’re not actually curious about how much alcohol he consumed, you just want to know if he can even respond to simple questions.

“Babe!” He exclaims when he looks up, “Oh, not much. I could go for another round right now, actually.” His words slur together and he sways in his sitting position against the brick wall of the auditorium.

“You’re not going for another round, you’re going home. C’mon.” You grab onto the sleeve of his puffer jacket, pulling him up so that he’s standing. He immediately falls onto you, his arms around your waist and his legs spread wide so that his head is hidden in your neck.

“Hyuck, you have to walk. Get up.” You pull him up once again, putting one of his arms around your shoulders and giving him more support around his waist. Slowly, you begin to walk away from the auditorium with Donghyuck’s drunk mumbling filling the cool air. His legs barely work underneath him, and he turns his head and leans into your ear every once in a while to sing some random lyric that pops into his mind at that second, like a small concert that he allows only you to hear.

Once you reach the top of the staircase, you stop and take a long look down to the bottom, “Why did you have to come all the way up here? How are we getting down the stairs?” If you start to climb down, Donghyuck could fall and hurt himself. You’re not that strong to begin with and your shoulders are already feeling sore from carrying most of Donghyuck’s weight.

“We can ride this.” He giggles and breaks away from you, one of his legs swinging over the handrail so that he’s straddling it.

“No, no, no.” You pull him off, but his shoe gets caught against the rail and he comes falling down onto you, both of you landing on the top step of the staircase. You wince in pain at how your back hits the concrete, but you don’t think about it much as you push Donghyuck off of you and into the space next to you on the top stair.

“Oh, no. Are we stuck up here?” He asks as you brush your hands together to get rid of the little pieces of concrete in your skin.

“Yes, and it’s all your fault. What are you gonna do about it?” You reply, so sarcastically that even Donghyuck’s drunk brain registers the joke. Your heart almost leaps out of your throat when he grabs your hands and pulls you closer to him, gently picking out each little ball of cement in your palms.

“I’m sorry I keep hurting you.” He apologizes. This close, you can smell the alcohol in his breath, mixed with his shampoo and cologne. He smells warm in this cold weather, and you feel like falling into him and drinking up his scent, not even minding the alcohol stench.

“Keep hurting me?” You ask.

“Yeah, that must be why you don’t want to be with me. I have to be doing something wrong for you to hate me.” He sighs, sniffling and enclosing your hands in his, his glassy eyes looking up at you and his long hair hangs down over his forehead and tickles his eyelashes. “I’m a bad soulmate.”

The way he says it makes your heart break. It makes you feel regret 1000 times worse than what you’ve been feeling these past few weeks; as if all of the worry and sadness hit you all at once, you feel like crying.

Isn’t he supposed to be the one who hurts you? Why does it feel like you’re the only one doing the hurting?

“You’re not a bad soulmate,” It’s not Donghyuck’s fault that he got stuck with you, or that things will turn out the way that they’re destined to, “And I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t?” He looks up into the night sky and sways a bit as he thinks, “Then why won’t you be with me? Hm?” He tilts his head, his lips pouting as he thinks. You desperately want to find an answer that’ll soothe him, but nothing you can come up with will give you that result, the truth included.

“It’s complicated…” You trail off, and your answer makes Donghyuck snort.

“How? I’m your soulmate, you’re mine. What else matters?” He laughs incredulously.

“What if you’re not just my soulmate?” You ask him, surprising yourself with how easily you can ask the question, probably because the influence of alcohol over him has you more at ease, “What if something happens in the future? I’m just… looking out for me, and for you.” You explain, trying to sound as vague as possible.

When you glance at Donghyuck, he looks dead serious. You think that maybe he has suddenly sobered up with how deep and calculating his eyes look. One of his hands tighten around yours while the other slowly raises to your hair, pacing himself along the way, and pausing before he touches you. When you don’t stop him, he gently caresses your hair and moves it away from your face, his nimble fingers sliding to your jaw. He moves your face so that your eyes meet his.

“I know I’m drunk, but I can make this promise again when I’m sober. I’ll make this promise every single day for the rest of my life, only if it means you can be there with me to fulfill it.” The severeness in his tone is like a wake up call about how serious this is for him.

“What promise?” You whisper back.

“It’s not just a ‘you’ or just a ‘me’ now. It’s an ‘us.’ And I will do everything I can to not hurt us.”

He says it with so much conviction that you somehow believe him. You finally fall into him and rest your tired head on his shoulder as he welcomes you into his warm arms. Maybe it’s foolish of you to think you two can go against fate’s words, but with him by your side, you feel like you can conquer the whole universe.

“Stop smiling like that, you’re making it very obvious that you got laid for the first time.” Donghyuck peers over his laptop screen to Renjun, where he has had a permanent smile on his face ever since he, Donghyuck, and Jaemin met up today to study in the lounge center of their dorm building.

“You know, Haechan, I’m not even mad at that. It’s more than what I can say to you.” Renjun tries to hide his widening smile while looking down at his own laptop, but that paired with Jaemin’s quiet laughter leaves Donghyuck bitter. “Didn’t you and ___ make up?” Renjun asks.

“They were fighting? I thought they just weren’t talking to each other?” Jaemin asks.

“Isn’t that fighting?”

“Kids.” Haechan cuts them off, “Not that it’s any of your business, but we were not fighting and we did make up.”

“That makes no sense.” Jaemin mutters and squints his eyes at Donghyuck.

“I’m older than you.” Renjun retaliates, but Donghyuck pretends like he doesn’t hear.

“We’re just… taking it slow.” Donghyuck ends his explanation with a firm nod of his head, and Renjun shuts his laptop and turns to his friend.

“Can you take it slow during the Fair this weekend? I’m planning to go with Mya and accidentally bought two pairs of tickets. I’ll give you the other pair.” Renjun leans into his friend’s side and wiggles his eyebrows.

“At what cost?” Haechan leans in as well and raises an eyebrow.

“Help me with my English project.”

“No way,” Haechan leans back and focuses on his own laptop screen again, “I haven’t even started mine, I don’t have time to help you with yours.”

“Please,” Renjun draws out the word, grabbing Donghyuck’s sleeve and tugging at it so hard that he can’t properly type, “I suck at English, and unfortunately it’s the only thing that you’re better at than me.”

“The only thing?” Donghyuck glares at Renjun. “Now I’m definitely not helping you.” When Renjun whines at that Donghyuck gets a devilish idea, and it shows by the smirk on his face, “... Unless, you’d like to show us how you really need help.”

At Donghyuck’s proposition, he leans back in his chair with his arms folded across his  chest while Jaemin mirrors his actions, his own goofy smile on his face as he waits for Renjun to either accept or deny the proposition, but he hopes he’ll accept it.

Renjun looks between his two friends and sighs, dropping his head down as he mentally prepares himself. When he lifts his head, he looks at Donghyuck with his lips pursed, his pointer finger over them and makes a “kyu” sound that is way higher than his original speaking voice. Jaemin and Haechan immediately burst into as quiet of laughter as they can, Jaemin reaching over the table to poke Renjun’s cheek at his cuteness.

“I never said to act cute, I just wanted you to say please again.” Donghyuck jokes through his snickering, and Renjun immediately stands up from his chair to take a fistful of Haechan’s jacket and pull back his other fist, all cuteness gone from his facial features in a split second.

“Okay, okay, sorry, sorry.” Haechan tries to pull away, his voice rising as Renjun holds onto his jacket tighter and threateningly leans in.

“Hey, quiet down.” Someone whisper-shouts from a few tables away, and it makes Renjun let go of Donghyuck and slowly sit back down. “This isn’t even a library, why are they shushing me.” He grumbles.

“You guys have fun on your date,” Jaemin sighs as he begins to put away his things, satisfied with the study session and with his friends' mischief, “I would go too, but I don’t feel like being a fifth wheel.”

Once your classes end on the day of the Fair, you and your roommate meet up with Donghyuck and Renjun outside of the Fair grounds. You and Donghyuck walk side by side, a bit behind the other couple as they lead the way, practically in their own little bubble. Your hands are shoved in your pockets to keep them from turning numb from the cold and you try to shove your head as far into your jacket as you can to keep your face and neck protected from the wind. Other than the chilly weather, it’s a perfect day for a Fair.

You don’t seem to notice Donghyuck’s predicament right beside you; he’s trying to find a way to hold your hand, but you don’t move them out of your pockets. Actually, Donghyuck is sure you’re doing this on purpose, since he has been trying to touch you the moment you met up with him tonight.

“So, what do you wanna ride first?” He asks you. After looking around the area, your eyes land on a tea cup ride, where the large cups move in circles and also spin in their spots.

“That.” You point to it. Before you can move, Donghyuck latches into your hand that was pointing into the air and pulls you to the ride, a smug smile on his face at how he succeeded in finally sharing some skin to skin contact.

The ride was, to say the least, nauseating. Not that it was disgusting, but Donghyuck wouldn’t stop spinning your individual cup around in fast circles, and you were so sure that you would fling off any second due to the strong velocity those tiny cups have when they go at full speed. However, walking off of the ride with wobbly legs and not being able to see straight was funnier than you thought it would be.

Donghyuck was actually still pretty dizzy when he tried to win a stuffed octopus for you with a dart game. However, he ended up losing $15 while trying to win the game, and you’re sure he would’ve spent more if you didn’t pull him away. After eating some good food and refilling your energy, the sun begins to set on the horizon in a colorful display of red, orange and pink, and people start to make their way to the ferris wheel.

“C’mon,” You hear Mya say from behind you, “We need to get in line first or else we’ll be waiting for half of the night.” She pulls Renjun by his sleeve and passes you and Donghyuck, practically running to the end of the growing line for the Ferris Wheel. When you see where she’s running to, you stop in your tracks which in turn makes Donghyuck stop. Your intertwined fingers pull you back to each other as he looks at you with a puzzled look.

“I’m… not good with heights.” You confess and look towards the top of the ferris wheel, shivering just at the thought of going that far up into the sky in a metal contraption, “Or small spaces…” You add on.

“That’s okay,” Donghyuck gently reassures, smiling lightly at your sudden timidness about your fears. Honestly, he’s just happy you now trust him a bit more to even tell him what you’re afraid of. “We don’t have to go. We can do something else.”

“Like what?” You ask. Donghyuck purses his lips and looks around, until a set of stairs on the edge of the fairgrounds catches his eye.

“I know a place where we can still get a good view of the sunset without going too far up.” He replies and tugs you along with him towards the set of stairs. They lead down to the park that’s nestled in the middle of your University, which eventually leads to a pedestrian bridge that crosses over a river that runs through your town.

The river isn’t that big, nor is the bridge, but it’s big enough to have your head tilting up in wonder as you gaze at the lights adorning the sides of it, lighting up not only the bridge itself by the sky as well. You’ve seen this bridge from your dorm room, but you’ve never once stood on it, and it looks remarkable from this close up.

Donghyuck continues to lead you over the pedestrian bridge onto the other side, where an outdoor museum that was constructed by art students a few years ago holds several different abstract paintings. His hand in yours, which has been it’s resting place all night, keeps yours warm. You try not to think about how your hands fit into each other like the gears of a hand-crafted watch. The lines on your palms connect with the lines on his; it’s painfully obvious he was made for you and you were made for him.

When you reach the end of the outdoor museum, you turn west and face the sunset just as it’s setting over the skyline. Even though some tall buildings obstruct the view, the colors of the sky stretch overhead and make both you and Donghyuck stand still and appreciate the artwork in the sky.

“You like these kinds of things, huh? Sunsets, and ponds, and that kind of stuff?” He suddenly asks, not talking his eyes off of the sky. You, however, turn to look at him. He has his eyes screwed as he tries to look at the sunset, obviously not liking the bright sunlight.

“You don’t?” You ask back.

“I think... there are more enjoyable things.” Donghyuck takes a while to make up his mind about what he wants, obviously trying not to make the things you enjoy sound bad to him.

“Then we should go.” You turn around, but he pulls you back to your original spot.

“We walked all this way, we’re watching this sunset even if my feet freeze to the ground.” He tightens his grip on your hand and speaks through his teeth, making you sputter out a laugh and hit his shoulder with your own lightly.

“Sometimes, I wonder why fate put us together.” You ask, watching as the sun moves bit by bit, leaving behind trails of light and the beginnings of stars and the vast universe on the other side of the sky. “We’re different. I don’t know about you, but you are not who I imagined my soulmate would be.” You speak truthfully.

Even though there are some strings attached to Donghyuck’s relationship with you, it didn’t stop you from thinking about what kind of person he’d be— what kind of person fate would pick to be your perfect fit. Maybe they would have some sort of major flaw, like an anger problem or a lack of common sense. Maybe they would be an alcoholic or someone who commits crimes.

When it came to your soulmate, you always thought of something bad considering that they were also going to hurt you in some way. You never thought that your soulmate would be someone as unique and fun as Donghyuck. Fate made it way too easy to be with him, and you’re not sure whether to feel bitter or thankful.

“Well,” He blows some air through his nose, “You’re exactly what I thought my soulmate would be like” Your heart jumps into your throat and beats irregularly when Donghyuck says that, struck with the feeling of surprise once again.

“Mark tells me you’re smart and get good grades, and I know it was you who ordered that soup for me the morning after you took me home when I got drunk. Not to mention, you went out when it was dark to take me home in the first place.” Donghyuck explains, his hand that’s still interlocked with yours waving around as he does so, “You’re willing to help others, you have a good head on your shoulders, and not to mention you guard your heart to the very end.”

“Guarding my heart… That’s an admirable quality? If I remember correctly, it caused you some pain in the past few months.” By now, the last rays of the sun are disappearing over the horizon and night begins to blanket the sky. You turn to your soulmate when he takes more than a moment to answer, watching the way his face reacts to the thoughts turning in his head.

“Yeah, it is a great quality. I think if you completely trusted me the moment you saw me on those stairs, we wouldn’t end up here now. You wouldn’t be the perfect fit for me if you loved me so easily.” He turns to you, a teasing smile playing on his lips. Your interlocked fingers are basically frozen together at this point and maybe your feet really have stuck to the ground, but his words warm you up from the inside out.

“I think I would’ve fallen in love with you even if we weren’t destined to be together.”

Somehow, he manages to remind you of one very important fact that you’ve set aside since the moment you met him. You’ve always put the fact that he’s supposed to hurt you first, and the fact that he’s your soulmate second. However, he is a human and so are you, and you’re both given the opportunity to love one another wholly and truly. People die to have this type of moment. People live their whole lives without experiencing this type of emotion.

It’s time to remember that Donghyuck is your soulmate, first and foremost. He is deserving of love, and you’re now willing to give it to him.

When you pull Donghyuck into you, he feels like it may be a hallucination. Surely your lips can’t be that close to his own. But when he smells the cinnamon on your lips from that churro you had and your fingers sliding up his arm to grip his jacket, he becomes scared that this might actually be a hallucination.

You slowly lean in, almost painfully slow, but Donghyuck doesn’t dare rush you. When your lips do meet, both of you feel complete. The feeling of finishing a lifetime’s worth of work with one gentle kiss is the most delicious feeling ever, different from anything that either of you have ever experienced.

It’s slow and careful, but passionate and full of true love. No matter what happens in the future, it will always be your memory to savor and remember for the rest of your lives.

“___!” You hear Mark’s voice from your right, turning your head quickly to see him stick his hand up in the air and begin to make his way through the throngs of people between you two. You move towards him, attempting to meet in the middle, but somehow he ends up behind you, and you laugh as you attempt to meet again.

“Hey, Mark,” You look over him, noting how well he manages to pull off the choir robe that everyone else seems to look like a sack of potatoes in, “I didn’t know your concerts could get this packed. You guys could start your own group and make it big.” You look around while adjusting the flowers in your hand so they don’t get squished against your chest.

“Nah, it’s mostly just families that come to these concerts. Since there are a lot of vocal majors, there are a lot of families that show up.” He explains.

“So, what does that make me?” You joke, but Mark doesn’t seem to get it and tilts his head to the side.

“You’re Donghyuck’s girlfriend. That makes you family, right?” At the mention of your relationship, you glance down at the flowers in your hand, the flowers that are meant for the aforementioned boy. You nod, mumbling something like a ‘I guess’ before Mark looks down at his watch and sucks a breath through his teeth.

“Okay, I have to go warm up. Make sure you get a seat in the middle, that’s where it sounds best.” He gives you a quick wave as he walks away, and you manage to send one back. Before you know it, the doors to the auditorium open and people flood in to grab the best seat they can.

You barely manage to snag a seat in the middle, an older lady to your right and a grandpa to your left who seem to be unrelated and didn’t mind you sitting between them. You shrug off your coat as you look around, feeling anxiety build up in your chest. You know you don’t have anything to be anxious for, so you deduct that it’s probably Donghyuck.

He invited you to the concert today. For him, it’s part of his final grade for his vocal class and for you, it’s a chance to see him sing on stage. Strangely, he has talked about how much he loves to perform but never wants to sing in front of you. When he told you he auditioned for a solo in one of the songs, and ended up getting the part, you knew you absolutely had to come today.

Pulling out your phone, you send Donghyuck a text saying that you’re seated and that you wish him to break a leg. You see the read receipt pop up next to your text, and although he doesn’t text anything back, the anxious feeling in your chest subsides and you smile to yourself.

“Those are pretty flowers.” Turning your head to the lady on your right, you glance down at the bouquet of black-eyed susans on your lap.

“Oh, thank you.” You put your phone on silent and slip it into your pocket.

“They’re my mom’s favorite.” Your attention turns to a kid who sits on the other side of the woman. He can’t be any older than ten, and his feet don’t touch the ground as he swings them back and forth and looks up at his mother.

“Oh?” You ask, turning back to the older woman, “Would you like some?”

The woman seems to be stunned by your question, obviously not expecting you to hand over flowers at such a comment from her son. She looks almost flustered as she shakes her head at you.

“No, it’s okay. I bet those are for someone special?” She asks while nodding towards the stage.

“They’re for my… boyfriend.” You mumble, still not used to the words leaving your tongue, even though it has been more than a few weeks now.

“Then you should save them for him.” She nods and you smile back.

“But I want one.” The woman’s son pouts, and the mother nudges her foot against his leg. You laugh a bit, using your right hand to hold down the bouquet and your left to pull out a flower. Carefully, you hand it over to the little boy and he grasps it, his pout turning into a smile while he sings a ‘thank you’ and counts the petals on the flower.

The woman gives you a nod, and you all turn to face forward where the students are beginning to walk onto the stage.

The concert went well; you weren’t familiar with any of the pieces of music the choir performed, and many of them were in different languages, but you still enjoyed the performance by the many music students from your university. You managed to catch sight of Donghyuck fairly quickly, and Mark was just a few rows behind him.

Donghyuck’s solo fit his voice perfectly. Maybe you’re biased, but you think no one would be able to match his tone and technique to fit the song as perfectly as he did. Since it was the first time you heard him sing, you were a bit taken back by how amazing his voice sounds and how much control he has of it. It didn’t look like he struggled to hit the notes, and he looked like he was in his element on stage.

After the concert, you wait on the staircase outside of the auditorium building where you agreed to meet up with Donghyuck. You roll on your feet, jumping up and down slightly to keep warm. You clutch the flowers to you, scared that the cold weather might cause them to bend and begin to wilt quicker.

“Oh, it’s the flower lady!” You hear a familiar voice call out, and you turn your head to see the little boy and his mom from earlier… walking with Donghyuck? He has his choir robe hanging from one arm and his other hand intertwined with the little kid.

“Do you guys know each other?” Donghyuck asks, looking between the three of you with confusion.

“We happened to sit next to each other during the concert.” The woman explains, a grin growing on her face as she looks between you two. “This is your soulmate.” She doesn’t say it like a question, she says it plainly and nods her head in content.

“I’m sorry, did you already know who I was when we met?” You ask her.

“No, until I saw the mark on your left hand. I would recognize my own son’s mark anywhere.” Son? This is Donghyuck’s mother?! Your eyebrows must be up to your hairline and you think your mouth might be open, but you can only focus on remembering every little thing you said to her before the concert started to recall if you said anything dumb.

“Let me introduce you properly. This is ___, my soulmate and my girlfriend. ___, this is my mom, Sara, and my half-brother, Hyunjin.” Donghyuck gently takes your elbow and pulls you closer to him.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You politely greet them as if it’s the first time ever.

“Well, I like her. She gave me a flower.” Hyunjin exclaims.

“Back off, she’s mine.” Donghyuck jokes with the kid. “Thank you guys for coming today, by the way.” He continues, “I appreciate my favorite people being here for my first college performance.”

Donghyuck goes to hug his mom as she sets a kiss to his cheek that makes him cringe away slightly. However, you’re still struck to your spot from being included into Donghyuck’s group of favorite people. There’s a warm feeling in your chest at being included into something so special so early on in your relationship. There’s also some anxiety that comes with it, since promises that are made too early hurt the most, but you push the feeling away and soak in Donghyuck’s unconditional love.

After you all bid farewell to each other, and Sara and Hyunjin leave, you turn to Donghyuck with a deadpan expression, “You didn’t tell me I’d be meeting your family today.”

“Would you believe me when I say that I forgot they were coming?” He asks and you roll your eyes, not believing his words at all.

“These are for you.” You push the flowers into his chest and dig your hands into your pockets so that they can finally get warm, “Your solo was… interesting to listen to.” You say with annoyance dripping from every word.

“Thank you,” He replies cutely, not affected by your irritation. You roll your eyes again, but a smile tugs at your lips as well. “What kind of flowers are these? I don’t think I’ve ever seen them?” He asks while digging his nose into the bouquet.

“Black-eyed susans.” You reply, and Donghyuck gives you a weird look.

“That’s such a random flower.”

“They attract dragonflies.” You explain, nudging his side with your elbow. When you glance over to him, he has a smile playing on his lips.

“Should I be giving these to you, then?” He hands them over, but you push them back at him.

“No way. I’m already attracted to you.” You state, turning around to walk back down the staircase. When you don’t hear any footsteps following you, you turn around to find Donghyuck kneeling over with the flowers clutched close to him.

“Are you okay?” Alarm rises in your chest, especially when he shakes his head at your question.

“No, you just made my heart beat really fast and I’m afraid I’m gonna have a heart attack.” You would roll your eyes again, but you’re afraid they might roll out of your head at this point. You climb back up the stairs and yank on his sleeve jacket to make him walk alongside you.

“___, feel my heart. I swear it’s going to beat out of my chest.”

“Shut up, Donghyuck.”

“No, seriously, I think we should go to the hospital.”

“Shut up.”

In the morning, Donghyuck loves to wake up next to you. He has always been a spread-out type of sleeper; arms to the side, legs open, laying diagonally across the bed. Once you two moved out of your dorms and moved into an apartment together during your second year of college, Donghyuck’s way of sleeping changed dramatically.

Now, he can’t help but snuggle in, wrap his arms around you, tangle his legs in with yours, and do everything he can to sleep as close as he can to you. Maybe that’s why he suddenly woke up. The absence of you next to him made him shuffle awake, missing the frame of your body next to his like how it usually fits.

He groggily opens his eyes and immediately shivers, catching the open windows in the bedroom letting in fresh, cool, morning air. Donghyuck shivers once again, blindly reaching for the blanket and wrapping it around his head and shoulders, then making his way out of the bedroom in search of you.

He checks the kitchen, but you’re not there. Then he goes to the living room, and he sees your figure outside on the balcony, the curtains that are supposed to be hanging up in your bedroom moving with the wind as they hang next to you. He tightens the blanket around him and opens the glass door. Even though you definitely heard him come outside, you don’t turn around. You have a cup of something warm next to you and you’re leaning against the balcony while staring out into the city skyline, watching the sun rise into the sky to welcome the new day.

“Good morning.” Donghyuck mumbles as softly as he can. When you mumble back a reply, he opens the front of the blanket so he can swallow you into his embrace. His chin rests on your shoulder and tries to guess exactly what you’re looking at, but when he lifts his head to look at your face, your eyes are closed.

“So, do you want to tell me why our curtains are out here and not on our windows like they should be?” He rests his head against yours, also closing his eyes.

“I woke up and suddenly felt the urge to clean them, I don’t know.” You laugh a bit, making both of you move with the movement of your chest. Donghyuck smiles at your reason; one of the things he learned about you when you moved in together is that your work ethic comes in random bursts of energy, rather than carefully planned out schedules to follow. You always have a small goal for every day, and sometimes you don’t even know what it is until it randomly pops into your head. Although he doesn’t really understand how you’re able to work like that, he loves this little quirk anyway.

“Did I wake you up?” You whisper and nudge your head into Donghyuck’s, nuzzling back into him when a particularly strong gust of wind blows over the balcony.

“Not technically, no. You not being next to me woke me up.” He replies.

“Well, I’m here now. How about we sleep some more?” You ask, leaning back against him and looking at his face.

“Best thing I’ve heard today.” He sighs. Without letting you out of his blanket trap, he walks you both back into the apartment and into your bedroom, both of you beginning to giggle at one point when you almost trip over the blanket and crash into the ground.

Thankfully, you both made it back safely to the bed, falling into the soft mattress. Immediately, Donghyuck gathers you in his arms and cuddles you to him, almost like he’s latching onto you. You wrap your arms around him slowly and lean into his shoulder, placing a kiss against his collarbone. You were going to stop there, but when he lets out a whimper at the small press of your lips to his skin, you continue moving up his neck.

When you reach the space underneath his ear, he twitches at how you suck on the sensitive skin, not expecting you to pay closer attention there. His hand slides over your back, between your shoulder blades, and back down, pressing you to him as he caresses you and silently hopes you don’t stop what you’ve started.

You don’t seem to have any intention to do that when you lean back, looking up at Donghyuck’s big, round eyes as they stare down hazily at you and quickly connecting your lips. He kisses back slowly, as if taking his sweet, sweet time in loving you.

“I thought we were supposed to sleep?” You ask between kisses.

“We can sleep later…” He trails off, grabbing your hand and pulling you on top of him so that you’re straddling his hips. “... If you’re really tired we don’t have to.” He suddenly pulls away, his hand comfortably resting over your waist.

“No way. It’s too late for that.” You answer, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it to the other side of the bed. A chill runs through you at the cold temperature in the room, goosebumps forming over your arms and your nipples hardening. Donghyuck wraps his arms around your middle and presses a kiss in the valley of your chest, moving over until he reaches your left nipple and taking it into his mouth.

Biting your lip, your hands find his hair and tug on the long strands. Donghyuck’s hands squeeze your sides and his fingers draw random, little lines over your bare skin as he sucks and plays with your nipples, switching between each one.

“Hyuck…” You whine, giving a particularly sharp tug to his hair when he bites down onto your right nipple. “Please…” You trail off.

“Hmm? Please what? What do you want.” He leans back and looks up at you. You comb your fingers through his hair, pushing it back away from his face and behind his ears. His eyes are clouded and hooded over by the thoughts of you that are speeding through his mind.

“Please, make love to me.” You say it shyly, your eyes looking over his face but not meeting his own. He can’t help but smile at your timidness. You act like it’s the first time those words came out of your mouth. He can’t help but find it endearing how you ask him to make love to you every single time you find yourselves in this position.

“Of course, anything for you.” He connects your lips again, keeping the slow and steady pace from before. He shifts around as he moves his boxers away. Breaking the kiss, you move his hands away and pump his shaft, glancing up at him as he leans back with his weight on his hands and his head leaning back.

He lets out whines every time you twist your wrist, and you almost want to take a moment and stay this way, loving the sounds coming from Donghyuck’s mouth and how he looks as he pants beneath you. However, the tension growing between your legs makes you stop and sit up, pulling off your own pajama bottoms and underwear, throwing them somewhere along with your shirt.

Donghyuck grips your hips with one hand, the other pressing his middle finger to your slick folds, watching you squirm from above as he slides his finger through slowly.

“Just— Can you just do something already?” You almost whine out, grabbing onto his arm hard enough that you leave crescent moons in his skin.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure.” With your permission, Donghyuck positions himself at your entrance and slowly brings your hips down, watching your reaction throughout it all. The way your jaw slacks and drops open to the way you swallow when your hips meet with his, closing your eyes in pleasure at how he manages to fit inside you so perfectly. When everyone says your soulmate is made specifically for you, they really do mean in every way possible.

You sit like that for a moment, before opening your eyes and looking at your lover. He helps you move your hips up and back down, you let out a gsap at the sparks that fly up your spine. Your hips start to move in unison, yours grinding down and his moving up to meet yours in a steady rhythm, like a dance to music only you two can hear.

Your nails hurt when they move over his shoulders and chest, leaving temporary marks, but Donghyuck doesn’t mind. Actually, he loves it when you tug on his hair and scratch up his back, his whines turning into full out groans when you lean in and attach your lips to the side of his neck, pressing hot kisses down to his collarbone and biting down gently in the same place this whole situation started.

“H-Hyuck, I—” Before you know it, you’re so close to your orgasm, it’s basically right in front of you to reach out and accept.

“I know, baby, I know. You can come, I got you.” He answers back messily, using the last of his energy to keep your hips in place and drive himself into you. You let out a shriek at the sudden pleasure, only a few more deep thrusts into your hole and you’re falling over him as your orgasm spreads to every crevice of your body.

Donghyuck loves the way your muscles seize and flutter around him, making him pant and his thrusts become sloppy as he comes as well, his warm seed filling you up as he rides through his high. You both fall into the mattress below, you on top of Donghyuck, too tired to roll over and opting to just rest on his sweaty chest.

“I think that was way better than sleeping.” He says, his chest rumbling underneath you as he speaks.

“What a good way to tire ourselves out.” You yawn.

In the last few moments before your tired bodies fall asleep, you find Donghyuck’s hand and intertwine your fingers together, happily and contently falling asleep with the fresh air coming through the window and the sunlight now fully streaming into the room.

In the late summer before your and Donghyuck’s last year of university, you attend a wedding. Not just any wedding: Yuqi and Lucas’ wedding.

Although the ceremony is held outside, there’s a nice breeze that keeps the guests from getting too hot and sweaty in the summer sun. The whole wedding is held in a botanical garden and the place is decorated in white and purple, lilacs and daisies filling vases everywhere you go and freshening the air with their scent.

You and Donghyuck walk into the room inside the administrative building that’s designated for the bride. Yuqi is there, her face shining brightly with happiness and a glow that can’t be stolen from her today.

When you walk in, you let out a sound of delight at how pretty your college friend looks in her wedding dress, taking note of the chamomile flowers that adorn her hairpiece.

“Ah, I can’t believe you’re here.” She all but shrieks, embracing you tightly with her small bouquet still in her hands. After she gives Donghyuck a small, welcoming hug, she backs away to look at both of you.

“You look amazing today, I can’t believe you’re actually getting married. Congratulations.” You say sincerely.

“I can’t believe it either, actually. I feel like we’ve been planning this for forever, and now the day is finally here.” She recalls, a blissful look in her eyes even though you’re aware of how much stress she has had during the past few months over this one day.

“Are you nervous?” Donghyuck asks and you nudge his side and send him a look for asking a question like that.

“No, I’m not,” Yuqi laughs, “I feel one hundred percent happy. Like I’m starting the next part of my life with the one I love.”

“I’m glad you can spend the rest of your life with your soulmate, you’re definitely luckier than most.” You muse, and she suddenly softens her expression and takes your hand in hers, gently holding onto you.

“I’m not marrying my soulmate. I’m marrying the one I love. It just happens to be the same person.”

After bidding your farewells and good lucks, you and Donghyuck walk out of the room and head to where the ceremony will be held. He pulls out of sunglasses, propping them on the edge of his nose, and then grabbing your hand and strolling through the exhibits on the way to the ceremony grounds.

Yuqi’s words ring in your head throughout the peaceful walk, specifically how happy she looked to be marrying the one she loves. Somehow, you never thought about separating soulmate from lover; those two people have always been one in your head. You always thought that there can’t be a soulmate without a lover, and there can’t be a lover without a soulmate.

But the moment with Yuqi reminded you of the first time Donghyuck properly confessed to you, the words you can still hear floating through your head whenever your mind wanders off and thinks about him.

“I think I would’ve fallen in love with you even if we weren’t destined to be together.”

Maybe Donghyuck has been wiser than you this whole time. Not that you’d ever admit that to his face, unless you’d like to hear about it at least three times a week for the rest of your life.

Every memory— every year that has passed by with Donghyuck has only grown the idea of soulmate and lover further apart in your mind, and it took the matrimony of your close friends to realize it. You don’t think it’s a bad thing; in fact, you’re lucky that you can call your lover and your soulmate the same person.

You feel something tugging at your hand, and when you look over at your lover, he looks at you expectedly.

“Huh?” You say, dumbfounded since you’ve been in your own little world for who knows how long. Donghyuck laughs, bending over a bit at the funny, bewildered look on your face before straightening up and looking over to you again.

“I said, what colors should we do for our wedding? I personally think I look good in red, but I’m sure we can figure out something less contrasting.” He explains nonchalantly, you realize he’s kicking a random pebble around as you walk. Looking around, confused out of your mind, you turn back to him.

“Are we getting married?”

“Well, yeah,” He does something between a laugh and a scoff before leaning next to you, a serious look that permeates through the shade of his sunglasses, “You do want to marry me, right?”

Your brain is in a complete fritz. If you had a whole day to think about this you could maybe make up a sentence that resembles a sophisticated answer, but you can only shrug.

“Uh, yeah, I guess.”

“You guess?” Donghyuck stops walking, “I just asked you if you want to get married, and you reply with ‘uh, yeah, I guess.’” He mocks your tone and it makes you roll your eyes at him.

“This is the first time we’ve ever talked about this and I got nervous.” You explain, making him relax and stand in front of you with his hands leisurely resting in his pockets. “Of course, someday I would like to marry you. I guess you’re… tolerable.” Donghyuck pushes you away from him and quickly walks down the path, twice as fast as he was walking before. You laugh and follow him, running slightly to catch up.

“Excuse me, Miss, would you like to leave a wish for the happy couple?” A sudden voice stops you, making you turn back around. A man stands with a camera, looking at you expectedly.

“Uh, how?” You look from the camera and back up to him.

“I’ll take your picture. You can write a wish on it and hang it up over there.” He points to the dozens of polaroids already hung up a few feet away, random people posing in the photographs with different color writing on every picture.

“Let’s do it.” Donghyuck comes up behind you, no doubt catching the last part of what the photographer said and pushing you lightly over to where there’s better lighting while taking off his sunglasses and tucking them into his shirt. The photographer asks you to pose, and you and Donghyuck smile for the camera, your eyes slightly shut due to the sun beating down on top of you.

“Great, how about one more for yourselves?” The photographer asks as he waits for the photograph to develop and you agree. This time, Donghyuck wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer so that your back is against his chest. You feel him rest his cheek on your head and drape his other arm around your front. You grab onto his forearm, not knowing what to do with your hands, and then suddenly the picture is taken and the photographer hands over both of the developed photos.

You take the second picture out of Donghyuck’s hands, not being able to look away. The sun seems to hit both of you just right, and the slight candidness of the photo adds another layer of reality to the picture. Donghyuck has a small smile while his cheek is slightly squished against your head, but he still looks as handsome as ever.

“What wish should we leave them?” He asks, picking up a golden sharpie from the table nearby, somehow already having his sunglasses back on.

“Maybe just… Congratulations on getting married?” You suggest.

“And a million other people will have the same thing. We need to be memorable.” He stresses and taps the end of the sharpie against his head. “What do you wish for Lucas and Yuqi?”

“I wish…” You think about it for a moment, “For them to have a lifetime of memories that they can share until the very end.” You nod.

“Oh?” Donghyuck looks at you, “When did you become a poet?” He asks as he writes that down at the bottom of the first picture.

“I’ve always been like this. I’m glad you just now figured it out.” You reply sarcastically, to which Donghyuck replies back with his own sarcastic laugh. He hangs up your picture close to where Mark and Xiaojun hung up their’s, and then turns back around.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road.” He pushes up his sunglasses with his ring finger and thumb, walking with swagger towards the ceremony and grabbing your hand while he’s passing by.

“If you’re going to be like this at our wedding, maybe I’ll have to change my mind…”

For one today being one of the most awaited days of your life, it started out pretty regularly.

You wake up from the ringing of your alarm, get ready, and go to your classes for the day. You had breakfast before you left, and lunch right before your last class of the day. Even work was boring as usual, but nothing beat going to the store afterwards.

When you got to the aisle filled with shoes, you were first puzzled by how many options there are. So many colors and styles, you didn’t expect to be so overwhelmed and accidentally spent almost an hour just looking at every individual pair. This had to be perfect. This was going to be a memory that you thought about for the rest of your life.

You call Donghyuck when you approach your front door, he answers almost immediately.

“Hey, love, what’s up?” He yawns through the words, and you can’t help but smile as you look down at the bag in your hands.

“Oh, I was just wondering when you’ll be home.” You open the front door and shut it behind you, taking off your shoes.

“I’m right outside of our building. Did you just get home?” He asks, no doubt hearing the front door from your side of the line.

“I’ll talk to you when you get up here then, see you.” You send a kiss through the phone and abruptly end the call. If Donghyuck is right outside of the building he’ll be up to your apartment in just a few minutes.

You drop the rest of your things down at the front door and hurry into the kitchen, setting down the small white bag with a lace bow on top in the middle of the kitchen table, clearing the table of anything else. You slide into a seat at the table, fixing your clothes nervously as you hear the front door open. Not even a few seconds later, Donghyuck walks into the kitchen, his eyes moving from you to the white bag and back to you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, dead serious. Your nerves and anxiety, and maybe even some fear, must be strong enough for him to feel. You shake your head and pat the chair next to you. Donghyuck takes a seat, he came through the door so quickly that he didn’t even take his shoes or his jacket off yet.

“Open the bag.” You can’t help the excited smile and small clap of your hands as he reaches out and holds the bag. He gives you a quizzical look, but you only nod to encourage him.

Donghyuck unties the lace ribbon, looking down into the bag for a few moments. You can’t read his face and you can’t feel any emotions from him, and your anxiety grows tenfold. He reaches in and pulls out the little shoes, a light blue color with white stitching. They’re so small, they can sit in Donghuck’s hand perfectly.

“What are these?” He asks, still looking at the shoes in his hand.

“Well, they’re shoes… For babies. For our baby.”

At your reply, he does nothing. He doesn’t react at all, which only worsens your nerves and makes your leg twitch up and down as you wait for him to say something. He swallows and sets the shoes on the table, still looking at then with a blank expression.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Yeah…” You reply, reaching out to put a hand over Donghyuck’s, “Say something.”

“I’m not sure what to say, this is very… sudden.” He tilts his head. Your stomach drops at the lack of emotion in his voice. You aren’t sure what you were expecting, but it was not this stoic expression in his face. Whatever traces of a smile that you had on your lips vanishes and you grip his hand tighter.

“I know this is not what we had planned. I know this is kind of… not good timing, since we’re still in school and not married, yet. But this is what fate had planned for us, I guess?” You’re not sure if you’re trying to console him or convince him, but the icky feeling in your stomach tells you Donghyuck’s reaction to the situation is not good.

“Yeah, fate did us real good.” Donghyuck replies sarcastically and you drop your hands from his, resting them in your lap. You can see the tears forming in his eyes even when he tries to look away from you, and you can feel the fear that’s boiling and overflowing inside him.

“I know you’re scared, I’m scared too. But we can get through this to—” You’re suddenly cut off by Donghyuck standing up abruptly.

“I’m not scared. I’m worried.” He rubs his face with his hands. “I’m worried that I won’t be able to support this kid. I’m worried I won’t be able to be here for you through it all. I’m so worried I’m going to end up like my father that I feel like it’s going to eat me alive.” He runs his hands through his hair, pulling his head back as he looks at the ceiling and paces around the kitchen.

“I never knew your father, but from what you told me, you’re nothing like him.” You stand up too, your legs feeling like jello.

“No, you don’t understand. What if I say something wrong and ruin this kid’s life like my father did to me? What if I can’t find a job after we graduate? Are you going to support all three of us? I can’t let you live like my mom did, it was too hard to watch back then and it’ll be even harder to watch now.” He suddenly stops, not giving you a chance to speak as he looks from you, to the little shoes, and back to you. “I can’t.”

“You… can’t what?” There’s panic rising in your voice as he shakes his head and backs away.

“I can’t be here, not around you or this baby. I won’t be a good father.” He turns and walks out of the kitchen, leaving you standing dumbfounded with tears brimming in your eyes. You move to the front door, watching at Donghyuck’s shaking hands pick up his keys and wallet.

“Are you leaving me? Right now?” He doesn’t look at you and he doesn’t answer, opening the door, “Wait!” You cry out. He stops, his shoulders tense and his hand clenching the doorknob.

“What about that promise you made me? Huh? You said that it’s not just a ‘you’ or a ‘me’ now. It’s an ‘us.’ You said you’ll do everything you can to not hurt us.” You ask, recalling the promise Donghyuck made back when you two were young college students, and a promise he has repeated and vowed to you over and over again every time your relationship got into a rough patch.

“I think… that what I’m doing is what’s best for us. It’ll be better if I wasn’t here. ___...” He looks back at your teary eyed figure with one last look of regret, “I love you. I’m so sorry.” And with that, he closes the door, leaving you all alone in your cold and dark apartment.

You jumped off of the bridge. You jumped off a while ago, actually, but the fall took longer than you expected. You thought Donghyuck would be there to catch you at the bottom, but he’s nowhere to be seen now. The fall was peaceful and enjoyable, a soft limbo between making the hardest decision in your life and the ultimate consequence of that decision. The fall was long and made you feel faux comfort, so when you reached the very end, it ended up hurting a lot worse. You knew jumping off of a bridge would kill you, so why did you jump?

You’re not sure how long you stand by the front door, but it’s long enough that the sun sets outside and the room turns dark. You stare at the door, waiting for Donghyuck to come back. You wait for the door to open and for him to run through, hugging you and whispering that he’ll be here for you. You can only walk up to the door and slide down onto your knees, your forehead pressed against the cool wood as you wait.

Tears run down your cheeks silently, your eyes red and your head hurts. You keep your forehead pressed against the door for the whole night, waiting for him to come back. You wait, and wait, and wait. Donghyuck never comes back.

Your heart rips open from pain, it feels like it’s bleeding onto the floor in front of you. Your mind is numb from any other emotion, your body is cold from sitting on the floor, but you can’t get yourself to stand up. That’s when you realize, this is it. This is how Donghyuck hurts you.

What a sick and twisted way for fate to finally serve up her plan. You almost forgot who Donghyuck is supposed to be; the one who loves you, and the one who hurts you the most.

— read epilogue here

[live-the-fangirl-life]

Misplaced Mail - Part 1

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn - Mini-Series

Aelin accidently opens a package addressed for Rowan. Not a big issue. Except that he opened a package addressed to her. Issue.

Fic Masterlist | Read on Ao3 | Part 2

Warnings: Language

1131 words

*******

One of the simple joys in life, Aelin decided, was getting an alert that a package you ordered finally arrived.

She’d just sat back down at her desk, after having taken a very short lunch because ‘that article better be in my inbox by the end of the day, Ms. Galathynius’ and she had a decent amount of editing that still needed to be done.

When her phone buzzed with a new email notification, she was sure it was another spam email but was pleasantly surprised to see it was the delivery alert for one of the orders she’d made earlier that week.

If hard-pressed, she wouldn’t be able to say what exactly she’d ordered—according to Elide, Aelin had a teensy, tiny, online shopping addiction—but whatever it was would surely be a bright spot in the stressful day she was having.

Deciding to act on the small burst of energy the alert had given her, Aelin opened the article she was writing and powered through for the rest of the afternoon.

***

Stepping into the lobby of her apartment building, Aelin quickly picked up her mail—ad, ad, bill, ad, and her package!

She took the elevator up to the fourth floor and walked down the hall towards her door. She wasn’t familiar with a lot of her neighbors, people mostly kept to themselves, but she did know the resident of the apartment directly across from hers.

Rowan Whitethorn. They’d had more than a few conversations. It was mostly bickering, but she could always sense that he enjoyed their banter almost as much as she did. He was also insanely attractive, and she couldn’t help but occasionally watch from her peephole when he went for runs in his very tight workout gear, or when he returned in his very tight, very sweaty, workout gear.

Aelin collapsed on her couch before pulling her box closer. Forgoing a knife, she managed to lift the tape and rip off the adhesive sealing the cardboard together. She didn’t recognize the logo on the box inside, but it wasn’t like she knew the manufacturers of all the products she orders.

With a small smile on her face, Aelin tossed the cardboard aside and opened the actual box.

Her excitement immediately morphed into confusion as she looked at what was sitting in her lap. A thousand questions raced through her mind.

“What the fuck is this?”

“Why would I order this?”

“Did I drunk-buy again?”

“Seriously, what is this?”

Aelin stared at the strange object for another long moment before her brain clicked. It was a piece of some kind of weird exercise equipment.

Her eyes flew wide as she scrambled for the cardboard box it came in. She flipped it over, eyes scanning the label, and then she cringed.

It wasn’t addressed to her.

It was addressed to a Mr. Rowan Whitethorn.

Shit. Oops.

Brows furrowing, Aelin reached for her phone and found the email confirming the delivery of her package. Right there, the confirmation.

She winced. If she had Rowan’s package, that meant that he most likely had hers.

A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts and she rose from her perch on the couch to open the door.

Standing in her doorway was Rowan.

“Uh, I think I—I mean, I accidently—Uh, this is yours.” He thrust a box into her arms so quickly it was as if it burned him to hold it.

Aelin didn’t think she’d ever seen him look so flustered. His face was a bright red, he was stuttering over his words, and he wouldn’t meet her eye as she adjusted the box to get a better grip.

She just raised an eyebrow at him and slowly said, “Thank you. Yeah, there must have been a mix-up because I grabbed one of yours.”

Aelin placed the box in her hands on the counter as she walked to the couch to get Rowan’s package. When she turned back to him, she caught his eyes quickly dart away from her face. Weird. Normally he was cool and composed, but right now he looked like he wanted to bolt.

“I don’t even know what this is.” She gave him his rightful box and he mumbled a thanks before turning to leave.

She leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms, and watching perplexed as Rowan fumbled for his key to unlock his door.

“Okay, Whitethorn, what’s got you so jumpy?” Maybe she was a little too amused by his obvious discomfort at whatever she’d ordered.

He whipped around, dropping his key to the floor, and cursed before reaching to pick it back up.

“Nothing. Hm? I’m good. Its nothing.”

She snorted. “It’s obviously something. Gods, I can’t even remember what I bought,” she turned to grab the box on her counter, Rowan still trying to unlock his door, and lifted the lid to see inside.

She choked on air.

Now she remembered what she ordered.

It was three nights ago when Lysandra and Elide came over for girl’s night. They all had a little too much wine and binged watched rom-coms all night. Aelin remembered pieces of a conversation about her so-called dry spell, honestly, Lysandra, three months isn’t that long.

At some point, the three of them found a particular website that specialized in devices to aid in those dry spells. And apparently Aelin had placed an order.

Gods, she needed to get better at hiding her credit card from herself when she knew she’d be drinking. Not like it would do much good, she thought, she’d had those numbers memorized for years.

The sound of Rowan door finally opening made her look up, and it was then she had the full realization:

Rowan, her neighbor, her extremely hot neighbor that she had a not-so-secret crush on, opened her very realistically-shaped, bright pink, vibrator.

If only the universe could open a hole at her feet so she could disappear.

The only reason she could keep her voice steady was because Rowan seemed far more embarrassed than she was. Besides, she was an adult woman, why shouldn’t she own a vibrator…or four.

“Ah, thanks, I uh, wouldn’t want to lose this.” She cringed, why did she have to make this so awkward. More awkward.

Rowan didn’t say anything, but she saw his face get even redder. The tops of his ear were now a bright pink.

In a split-second decision, Aelin decided to throw caution to the wind and say, ‘Fuck it’. She drew up all her bravado and smirked at him as he turned and caught her eye.

“You know,” she winked, “maybe you could help me out sometime and I wouldn’t need this.”

Grinning at his slack-jawed, wide-eyed, stunned face, she turned on her heel and shut her door.

****

Taglist:

@acourtofsnakes @allthebooksunderthemoon @astra-ad-mare @becarefuloflove @bisexual-genderfluid-loki @booklover41802 @charlizeed @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @danibutterr @doubt-less @emily-gsh @enormousbooklover @foughtconquered @fromthelibraryofemilyj @hakunamatatazz @i-have-but-one-brain-cell @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jorjy-jo @lemonade-coolattas @mariamuses @mayhemories @midsizewitch @miserablesmusings @morganofthewildfire @nehemikkele @rowaelinismyotp @rowansfirebringer @sayosdreams @sheharahu @sleeping-and-books @stardelia @story-scribbler @superspiritfestival @surielandiareendgame @swankii-art-teacher @tomtenadia @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading @ladygabrielli1997 @moodymelanist @realbookloverproblems @gracie-rosee @julemmaes @yesdreamblog

[egg-on-the-run]

Massage

The turtle's s/o is exhausted, they help make things better with a massage.

(she/her pronouns used)

Leonardo

She's already asleep in his bed when he comes home from patrol. Usually she waits for him on the couch, even when she was tired, but Splinter had specifically told him she was already asleep, warned him to do his best not to wake her up.

She must be exhausted.

He tiptoes in as quietly as he could after his shower, spots her lying flat on his bed: not tucked in, just lying atop his blankets on her stomach. She had been too tired to lift the sheets.

He can see how tense she is, can see the way how even in her sleep her shoulders still rise to her ears, how her finger twitches with an anxious need to keep moving. Her face scrunched up slightly, adorable, but he would rather it be relaxed and soft.

He's careful and slow moving her onto the bed properly, still not setting her under the covers just yet. He's even more careful when he straddles her legs, keeps his weight off them almost entirely. His hands start at her lower back, kneading into her very softly.

She jolts and eyes snap open, "What are you doing?"

"I uh, I was giving you a massage, you look tense, even in your sleep."

"Oh," She relaxes, "You're an angel, just scared me a little." Her head hits the pillow again, already drifting off.

He tries once more, hands softly pressing into her lower back. She lets out a breath of air, sinking further into the mattress. He continues, travelling further up her spine. Usually he hates the sound of bones cracking (all of his brothers teased him constantly about it), but tonight he was quite happy to hear little pops coming from her spine. He especially didn't mind when she gave a little moan afterwards.

His hands travel further up towards her shoulders, kneading and rolling his wrists into the dozens of knots in her back. Her shoulders were so tense that she whined whenever he was too rough. He had to be gentle, working them out slowly.

By the time he was finished, she was sleepily trying to reach his hand with her eyes closed.

"Cuddle me," She mumbled as she found his hand, "Pretty please? I've got tomorrow off."

"Of course," He replied, moving to help her under the sheets, "That was the plan anyway."

He pulled her tight against his chest, hearing her bones crack once more as she melted like putty in his hands. He kissed her forehead.

"Thank god you've got tomorrow off, I'll let you sleep in as long as you want." He sighed, relaxing himself, "I'll make sure the lair is quiet."

She didn't hear a word of what he said, she was already fast asleep.

Raphael

Raphael was the king of tension. He wasn't like Michelangelo where little bothered him, or like Donatello who had those random self care days, or even like Leonardo who learned to de-stress through meditation. Oh no, Raphael carried tension like a mother with a clingy child: pulling on his shoulders, weighing him down and making him irritated.

It came with the whole anger thing.

So there have been countless times where she has used her knuckles to work the knots out of his shoulders. It was no easy task, especially when she had to use most of her body weight to actually get through each and every knot.

But she'd do it a hundred times more if he needed her to, and Raphael knew that, knew it all to well.

So when he sees her already grumbling to herself at the latest email that just came through to her laptop, when he see her shoulders rising to her ears in frustration and hands balling into fists, he knew he had to do the same thing for her as she had done countless times for him.

She jumps when he first puts his hands on her shoulders, but recognises the warm touch shortly after.

"What are you doing?" She asked, one hand reaching up to rest on top of his, she kept her attention glued to her screen, "I have a lot of work to do, Raphie."

"I know," He said, beginning to knead into her shoulders, "Just a massage, you look stressed."

"Oh with that lovely email, I am more than stressed."

She's always had a sharp tongue, never directed it to him (never intentionally) but he knows her patience is wearing thin and work certainly wasn't helping. He thought about taking his hands away entirely, not wanting to pester her; but she ran her thumb across his hand, typed with only one set of fingers, and Raphael remembered how often she did this for him when his patience was thinner than a piece of paper.

He pressed his hands into her shoulders again, watched as her head leaned back and body moved with his hands. He knew the feeling, when the knots were so tight they just hurt. He continued to work his hands into her shoulders, and slowly it seemed to stop hurting and the tension started to melt away. She closed her eyes, pushed her laptop away from her and just let herself be for a moment.

"Those big ol' hands of yours," She said, voice more like a breath, "So gentle with me."

"Not like you, using your damn elbows to get the knots out."

"But does it work?" She laughed.

He chuckled, "Of course it works, you're the best at this."

"Oh I dunno, you might give me a run for my money, this feels like heaven right now." Her head rolled to the side, turning slightly to kiss his hand, "Take me to bed Raphie, please."

With one final squeeze he let go, moving his arms to wrap around her waist and carry her to bed. Work wasn't important, this was.

Donatello

The lair was far too noisy, Donatello's lab was far too bright. Everything was just too much, all at once. Even as she sat on his desk, the reflection of his computer in his glasses from behind her was glaring into her eyes. He sat between her legs, arms around her waist and rambling about — god, she didn't even know at this point. She'd spaced out long ago, too overwhelmed to even try and catch up.

He moved his head at he spoke, Donatello was always an expressive fellow, and the light bounced off his glasses right into her eyes. She squinted, scrunched her entire face up and groaned.

"You have a migraine," He said plainly, "I have some painkillers in my drawer—"

"I took some earlier, they just haven't kicked in yet." She frowned.

She looked in pain, Donatello hated to see her like this, hated when there wasn't anything he could do.

He reached up and cupped her face, "Have you had enough water today?"

"Yeah," She mumbled, "Been using that new water bottle I got."

"When did you last eat?"

"Went out for dinner with some coworkers."

Donnie hummed, not knowing what else could cause her such a migraine. They usually had a reason behind them, she didn't usually just get them randomly. He wondered if she'd be on her phone too much, not to sound like Splinter, but she's been talking to him for the past hour or so, her eyes should have rested by now.

She pushed her cheek into his hand, letting his hand squish the chub on her face. Donatello squeezed gently, rubbing her cheeks in a circular motion.

"What are you doing?" She asked, voice muffled by his hands.

"Massaging your face," He replied, moving to knead her cheekbones with his thumbs, "Maybe it's tension that's brought this on."

"Maybe..."

He moved his thumbs over the bridge of her nose and followed the shape of her eyebrows, he repeated the action a few times before gently rubbing her temples.

"You're really good at this..." She murmured, eyes closed and jaw slack. Her face was no long scrunched up, but instead so completely relaxed she looked as though she was already asleep. Donatello persisted, using his thumbs to move the tension away from her face. His hands moved to her hair, grasping tightly and then releasing, he tickled his fingers through her locks: slowly so as not to pull on any tangles.

By the time he'd moved back to her jaw, he was pretty sure she'd fallen asleep where she sat. He smiled softly at her, kissed her forehead, and carried her off to bed.

He needed an early night as well.

Michelangelo

She had been on her feet all day, running errands for a coworker who had recently hurt their leg. Said coworker was fine, and would be perfectly capable of putting of such errands until their leg was better (really, Mikey huffed, using his girlfriend like a servant). But she could never just say no, and even after she'd ran around the city collecting bits and bops, dropping off items and buying groceries, her coworker hadn't even offered her so much as a sit down before he not-so-subtly led her out of his apartment.

So she came stumbling to the lair, exhausted and drained beyond compare and ready to collapse but still so eager to see her darling Mikey. He was in the shower when she arrived, she knew because Raphael told her, and because she could hear his singing before she'd even arrived.

She dragged herself to his bed, kicking her shoes off and not even caring where she left them. She collapsed to her knees before she could crawl under the blankets, lying surprisingly comfortably on the floor.

"Hey, hey angel! What are you doing down here?" Mikey's cheerful voice woke her up, along with a little shake of her shoulder. "We snoozing on the floor now?"

"So tired..." She mumbled, eyes fluttering closed, "Carry me to bed."

"No problem, the whole five feet distance it is." Mikey chuckled. He picked her up, sliding her onto his bed, careful not to bump her head on Raphael's top bunk. "All those errands huh? Guy owes you a thanks at least."

"Jackass kicked me out before I could even sit down at his place," She glared at the mattress above her, "So rude."

"Uh, totes rude? My girl did all that for him and he doesn't even let you sit down? Jackass is a very nice way to describe him." Mikey smiled at her, "Your poor little feet must be sore after all that running around."

"I think my ankles are swollen."

"Just a little." He teased, moving to sit between her legs. He took one of her legs and squeezed firmly along her calves. His hands slid down to her ankles and he frowned: they were slightly swollen, he had only been joking but turns out he was right. He rolled her ankle for her, moved her foot so that it pointed and then helped stretch her heel. He squeezed her calf one more time before moving on to her other leg.

"You're so sweet," She babbled, "Thank you for taking care of me."

"No problem babe, somebody has to," He laughed, "And it's not hard work."

She smiled at him, eyes struggling to stay open. He smiled back at her, not that she could see him, and softly told her to go to sleep; he'd take care of her.

[sweettodo]

Professor ⟿ Hisoka Morow x femreader

Includes : smut, student x teacher

Word count : 2,7k

[STUDENT IS AGED, IN COLLEGE]

••

"Please- please sir, I'll do anything, please don't fail me this semester."

Professor Morow sits in his office chair; hand on his chin as he ponders, he did like the sound of you begging.

••

You could cry.

You could drop out right fucking now. Beyond fed up.

Tutor after tutor, study session after study session since ninth grade never did you any justice, even cheating- peeking over to your neighbors left you with an end result of the huge red D's, F's and C's scribbled onto your paper. You were tearing the hair out of your head.

You couldn't write an English essay even if there was a gun being held to your temple; you weren't necessarily illiterate, but you envied your classmates who could throw together a thesis in an hour lecture, not to mention these giant papers which could've driven you to kill.

Today, bright and early in the morning, here you sit in your English classroom writing a timed essay, an essay about the logistics of capitalism, whatever that meant. Headache booming while you wrote illogical sentences onto lined paper vigorously.

You didn't even bother to read over your work; an hour later you're finally standing up from your seat and shuffling down the row, reaching to drop your paper into the basket, "Miss. Y/l/n, have you looked it over?" Professor asks, you smile and nod, he takes it from you.

"I wrote it sir, I don't need to reread it." You retort, he leans back in his chair and raises an eyebrow at you.

"That's not necessarily what I meant; very well then." He smiles, you go back to your seat and wait for class to be over.

Thirty minutes later, kids are gathering up their bags and papers, scurrying out of the classroom to their next lecture, as you walk out of the double doors into the hallway, your last name is being called and you stop in your tracks, turning around, "yes, Mr. Morow?" You respond, stepping back into the classroom, he stands from his desk, hands patting the black button up as he stands, he waits for you to approach his desk, his arms crossed and he seemed a little irritated.

You approach the front of his desk, nervous, "now, you can't honestly tell me this is your best work." He sighs, you swallow hard, slightly embarrassed, he looked completely unfazed.

"W-well, in my defense Mr-" you stutter, he immediately cuts you off.

"There is no excuse for this lackluster paper." He states, you jump out of your skin, his tone threatening. Everyone always knew not to mess with professor Morow, he was strict and rarely tolerated unprofessionalism. But you- you, always drove him mad, he hated how you acted, he wished he could fail you for the year, being as you were so incompetent.

But that would be immoral or him to stoop that low.

"I should have you rewrite this, do you know how important this is for your grade? Do you want to pass, y/n?" You not, picking at your nails in fear, he was definitely failing you for this semester.

"I'm sorry sir, I try- I really do, it's just I can't bring myself to it." You mumble, head down in total humiliation. "Please- please sir, I'll do anything, please don't fail me this semester." You plead.

Professor Morow sits in his office chair; hand on his chin as he ponders, he did like the sound of you begging.

He sighs and moves towards his bag, opening it and shuffling through papers, pulling out mine, you braced yourself, "you're going to rewrite this, I will swallow my pride and give you a chance, I'd like to see you get higher than a C." He deadpans, you nod, gracious for his generosity.

Handing the essay back to you, "would you like me to do it right now?" You ask, he shakes his head no, closing his bag and picking it up.

"Nope, I'll help you later, you'll have to leave campus for this evening, so clear your schedule." Your eyes widen, he begins walking out, back to you before he peers his head back towards you, "do you want help?"

"Yes, yes sir I do." You sputter, he gives you a half cocked smile.

"That's what I thought." He leaves you breathless as he turns off the lights as he turns the corner out of his class, leaving you there in the barely lit room. You slowly walk out of the empty class, unsure if something like this was even appropriate, 'but it has to be, he's helping you.'

The next few hours would feel like eternity, laying chest up, looking at your ceiling spread eagle bored out of your mind. Waiting for time to pass before you anxiously awaited for later tonight. As you lay there, you hear your phone swoosh, indicating you had just received an email. You sit up and snatch your phone off the bed stand, opening it and seeing an email from the professor.

With an address being the only thing sent to you, you don't bother responding, 'this must be his house,' you spoke out loud, looking at the time on your phone, you might as well get ready, only an hour until you need to leave.

Wearing the same thing you had worn all day, a plain black skirt with a sweater, you just spray perfume over yourself and brush through your hair.

It was only 5pm, but the time of the year brought early darkness; so it was pretty dark by the time you were walking through the parking lot and unlocking your car door. Bag in toe you drive off campus, you scolded yourself for being so, so stupid. How can’t someone write an essay? Not to mention you were at fault for letting it get this bad... a teacher, y/n? A teacher is doing this for you? It was embarrassing.

Soon you're driving up the spiral driveway up towards the large house in your view, nice car in the driveway, lawn well taken care of. It was beautiful. You take off your seatbelt, opening the car door with your bag and keys in hands.

You walk up the path and inhale before you're knocking on the door; waiting a few seconds and the door is opening. Professor Morow allowed you entrance, wearing the same button up and black slacks as earlier in class. We great each other, "follow me, my office is upstairs." He speaks, you follow him up the marble stairs, down the hall and he's opening a beautiful wooden door, a large desk, chairs in front, a couch with a bookcase behind it with stunning red curtains which were closed.

"You have a nice home Mr. Morow, stunning." You breathe, looking around and observing.

"My, well thank you y/n." He hums, sitting in his chair behind the desk, you sit in front of him, taking out your paper along with a notebook and pencil, “I'll have you rewrite, and after each paragraph I'll read it over for you." He says, crossing his leg, you nod.

"I- I wanted to thank you again, for helping me." Yoy mutter, he nods slowly.

"Don't worry, you'll make it up to me." He smirks, motioning to your paper to get you to start; so you do. Starting with your thesis, you spend extra time making sure you think it looked good. You hand it to him and he reads it over, eyes trailing across the page, "not bad, but I know you can write more about the proprieties within some enterprises.” You groaned and quickly started erasing, his hand immediately grabs your wrist, stopping you, “I didn’t say erase it.” He insists, you look up at him, then down at his hand; a big hand wrapped around your wrist obviously didn’t fill your head with appropriate things.

He suddenly stands, walking around the desk and reaches his arm to grab your pencil, his arm flexing next to your head while he rewrites the things you disregarded, your throat hitches, sitting still and tense; intimidated by his cologne aroma and the fact he was inches from you, “what has you so tense?” You internally gasp, heart beating and you see him now standing against his desk to your right. How the fuck could you answer this?

“I-uh, no reason.” You nervously chuckle, he crosses his arms; he didn’t buy it at all.

“Cat got your tongue?” He chuckles, stepping closer to you, you stared up at him, he towered over you, swallowing hard, “no need to be nervous, y/n.” He says. The tension was really thick in the room, you didn’t notice until you found yourself pressing your thighs together for pressure.

“Sir I-” his hand moves, tucking hair behind your ear, instantly silencing you. You’re spinning. Such an authoritative man making you feel small was a new feeling you hadn’t felt before; like you needed to listen to him or else you’d be in some type of trouble.

“I hope you’re paying attention, if you want to do good of course.” He murmurs, dropping his hand back down, you nod slowly, listening to him. “I’ve always known you could be a good girl.” You were stunned, you chewed on the inside of your mouth like crazy as he still stood over you.

“Mr. Morow,” you breathe, nervous, “I need to pass this class.” The desperation in your voice was pitiful, and Hisoka fucking loved it.

He brings his hand up to your jaw, caressing only a little with his thumb, “don’t worry, you’ll get a good grade,” he purrs, thumb running across your bottom lip, agonizingly slow, “open.” Mouth opening immediately. His thumb slides into your mouth and down deeper towards the back of your throat. You look up at him with beady eyes, he licks his lips and smiles.

He pulls out of your mouth, you hesitantly bring your two hands up, lightly touching his belt, his head drops down and he assists you in unbuckling his black leather belt, “my my, such a fast learner, so good.” Your face heats up, fingers working at the zipper of his pants, the tight space was noticeable, the bulge in his pants made you squirm.

Hand grabbing the back of your head, he’s releasing his cock from his open slacks, you braced yourself for the thick and long cock to stab the back of your throat. He holds your hair back out of your face while you’re spitting up the base of his dick, taking the tip between your lips slowly while you looked up at him with those eyes.

Tongue swirling around the tip, his grip tightening on your skull. You push your head further onto him, spit seeping down your chin; taking over, Hisoka pushes your head down all the way to the base, choking and your throat constriction, he groans and pulls you off him quickly, “do you like my cock down your throat princess?” He purrs, index finger lifting up your chin, you nod, he smiles and grabs you from under your shoulder, you stand and he pushes you over the desk, legs locking and you’re held up by your arms.

“Hmm, how about you give me these wrists.” He hums, ripping you off your only stability, side of your face hitting the desk... right on top of your essay. You hear a click followed by another, cold metal now holding your wrists together.

“What, do you just have handcuffs in arms reach for this typa’ thing?” You found it humorous.

Mr. Morow didn’t.

Your skirt flying up, followed by a shard pain on your thigh, you gasp and try to look up; belt in hand, your English professor had whipped you. Hard. Your leg tries to move back but he’s placing his hands on your waist, keeping you still, “tell me, why might your panties be this soaked? I haven’t even touched you.” He had bent down to your ear, vibrations sending you crazy, “do you want me to fuck you? Princess? Fill you up?” You bite down on your lip, he made you tingle just by the sound of his voice.

Another smack of the belt against your ass rings through you and you yelp out in pain, hissing. “Answer me. Go on,” even his soft voice made this sound harsh, you press your forehead against the desk, panting; the pool of wetness most likely slipping down your thighs.

“Fill me up professor, please.” You mewl, he chuckles deeply, the sound of the belt on the floor caused you to sigh out of relief; instead his hands were grabbing your thong, pulling them down slowly and letting them hit your ankles.

“Oh my, so fucking wet.” He hums, pulling apart your ass cheeks to get a better look.

“Sir.” You retort, needy and beyond ready to be fucked at this point.

“Yes?” You tense up, mouth dropping open when you feel his tip stroke up and down your folds, your thighs tremble and shake under his grasp, slowly pushing his throbbing cock into you. You cry out, “use your words, what is it?” He questions you once more.

“So fucking big.” You moan, he pulls your hips further onto his cock; shaping your pussy to his liking, stretching you out and hitting every nerve possible, “oh my god!” His hips finally touching your ass, you twitched and tightened around him, fitting around him accordingly.

“You take my cock so well.” He pulls out, hands tight around your waist as he slowly thrusts you, you gasp and squeal, he didn’t even need to try to hit your gspot. He speeds up, enough to feel that sharp pressure of his head poking at your cervix, his name spilling from your mouth.

“Such a good girl, do you like that?” Ramming into you, your legs wanted to drop as he fucked you numb, his big hand grabs your hair, yanking your head upwards, “answer me.” He grits, you couldn’t, you couldn’t even compose words as he fucked every syllable out of you.

You didn’t answer, he shoves your head down, slamming onto the desk painfully, you wince and he picks up pace, “I told you to answer me,” drilling into you, you’re stomach twisting into a tight knot.

About to reach your hard orgasm, he only fucks harder, screaming out a gasp, “fuck! Your cock feels so good Sir!” You cry.

Your moans and screams were music to his ears, only inching him closer to stuffing you with his kids, “such a good little fruit, you’re sucking me in so good.” He groans, your cum coating his dick, he picked up your arms by the metal chain of the handcuffs, using it as leverage to demolish your insides.

Your wrists sore, makeup dripping down your eyes along with your tears, hair a mess, legs numb and shaking ready to give out, “I’m-I’m gonna cum again!” You wailed, he didn’t change his pace, cock stroking against your sweet spot.

“Do it.” Hips sputtering, only slowing down slightly, you become his cum disposal, dumping his seed into your hot cunt. He’s groaning, panting lightly; throwing your second orgasm into the mix, your slick and his cum pouring down his cock and your thighs, you shook profusely, he massaged your ass with his hands before unlocking the cuffs and pulling you up, dropping to your knees and huffing.

“You took me so well.” He purrs into your ear whilst picking you up by the armpits and placing you in the chair, he wipes under your eyes where most of the mascara was and brushes your hair out of your face, crouching down to your level and pulling your panties over your knees, you lift up a little so he can pull them up completely while watching his every move.

While you composed yourself, he walked back around to his desk, gathering papers together in a stack, “we can finish writing tomorrow, how about that princess?” You smile and nod, relived he wouldn’t put you through the torture tonight.

“Sure,” you say, standing and trying way too hard to walk normally, you pick up your bag and keys, walking towards his office door.

“See you in class tomorrow, professor.”

[sinner-as-saint]

My Favorite Kind Of Night - 2.

Camboy!Bucky x CEO!Reader

Part 2 of this series

Run-through: On Friday nights, you are punctual to your virtual meet-up with your favorite camboy over a streaming platform, for your private stream session. You’ve known him for a couple of months now. He goes by the alias of ‘Winter Soldier’ on the platform, which is perfect for the kind of man he is; brawny and drop dead gorgeous. Over the past few months, he has become your favorite kind of night. And secretly, you became his as well. You two get closer over time, and things get interesting when your real, professional lives gets intertwined.

Themes throughout the series: sex worker!bucky, smut, phone sex, fluff, language, dirty talk

James Buchanan Barnes walked into your office not even a minute after your assistant walked out. And you took one look at him and your jaw almost dropped to the floor.

He was tall, broad and very muscular. Blue eyes which made your knees weak even though you were sitting down. His button down shirt seemed so damn tight around his biceps that you feared they might rip at the seams anytime now. Well-groomed beard and a man bun – very few men could pull off this look, but he did so perfectly. You could tell he had long dark brown hair; tied up in a bun which made him look so manly and strong and still boyish at the same time. His facial hair made him look mature and wise and yet, he had a playful smile.

You immediately liked his overall demeanor. And you liked it even more when he flashed that million dollar smile at you. Also, there was something about him which felt weirdly familiar.

“Good morning, Ma’am.” He spoke in a deep voice. Like the kind of voice you know you’d never get tired of. Just the right in between smooth and gruff.

Oh fuck. You gave him your best smile. “Good morning, Mr. Barnes. Please have a seat.”

 You had to constantly remind yourself not to stare dreamily at him all throughout the interview. But God damn, James Buchanan Barnes was one fine specimen.

Better than Bucky? Your conscience asked and your eyes widened. Shit. You hadn’t thought about Bucky for even a second since James walked into your office. This man really had you under his spell, huh?

You asked him all the same questions you asked the other candidates, and his replies were well thought out. He was well spoken and carried himself with the right amount of confidence and ease. You could already see him fitting in just right with the rest of your staff. And he was perfectly qualified for the job as well.

You gave him another smile and spoke up, “Very well then, Mr. Barnes. We’ll be delighted to have you here with us. You may start as from tomorrow, is that alright with you?”

He gave you a bright smile back. “Of course, tomorrow’s perfect.” He stood up to leave and you shamelessly admired his back and of course, instinctively your eyes dropped to his lovely butt.

Oh damn. Was there anything about this man which wasn’t perfect?

Before he walked out, he turned around to face you again. “Have a nice day,” he spoke, catching you off guard, he added almost playfully, “Ma’am.”

“You too, Mr. Barnes.” Your voice sounded raspy and dry – mainly because he made you so nervous with just one look.

 After James Barnes left your office, you leaned back in your seat with a goofy smile on your face. There was this weird sense of familiarity which lingered around even after he left. There was something about him which made it seem like you had met him before. Had you come across him at a party before? Or seen him on a magazine cover because God knows he belonged on one with all that beauty. You couldn’t put a finger on it.

Regardless, he occupied your thoughts for quite a while. Around an hour later, your phone buzzed while you were typing an email. You checked and saw that it was an incoming call from Bucky. Oh?

You held your phone with nervous, shaky hands. Streams, chats and texting were one thing, but calling? He had never heard your voice and this made you nervous. Fuck it.

You answered the call. “Hello?”

You heard a deep voice groan on the other hand. “Fuck… your voice just had to be as beautiful as the rest of you, huh?” Bucky spoke in that smooth, velvety and playful voice of his. You noticed he sounded a little different on call than he did on video.

You found your face getting hot, your toes curling in your Louboutins and your body getting tingly at the sound of his voice. “But you haven’t seen all of me yet.” You obviously hadn’t shown him your face yet. Which was so bizarre that neither of you knew each other’s name, nor what the other looked like, yet here you were – shamelessly flirting.

He chuckled, and it sent chills down your back and caused the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy. “I don’t have to. I know all of you is beautiful.” He paused. “Also I should tell you, that photo of yours is making it hard for me to go about my day in peace.” He paused again. “Pun intended.”

You laughed and leaned back in your seat. You felt much better now that you heard from him. You had been moody all morning given he hadn’t texted you. But just hearing his voice set your mood straight.

 You two talked for about half an hour, carefully avoiding asking any personal questions about each other because you weren’t there yet and neither of you were sure what this… situation was nor where it would go so you both decided to just enjoy it and go with the flow. For now.

Your assistant walked into your office and motioned frantically to her watch – meaning you were a little late to a meeting. So you wrapped up the call with Bucky in the next minute.

“I gotta go. Duty calls.” You sighed, standing up and picking up your laptop.

He groaned again. “Time flies whenever I talk to you.”

You giggled. “Same here, Bucky.”

-

For the rest of the day, your thoughts kept bouncing back and forth from that flirty phone call with Bucky to thoughts of James Buchanan Barnes. Ah, what a pleasant dilemma it is having two hotties occupying your thoughts.

When you thought of James, your body tingled. The way he walked towards your desk; how he towered over you and how you liked it. How he looked at you with those intense blue-gray eyes, and how his voice carried this tone of comfort but also seriousness when he talked to you.

And when you thought of Bucky, you had more or less the same reaction. You had the shape of his body memorized. His voice when he talked to you on the phone, how he explicitly told you all the things he’d do to you. How goofy he was on text and how equally shameless on call.

Ugh stop. Bucky was a lovely distraction. He pleased you sexually despite being however many miles away and you paid him for it. That’s it. Right? And James was… well, your soon to be employee. You shouldn’t be thinking about him like that.

Oh goodness… what a mess. A hot mess.

 -

Bucky was a happy man when he left your office building and got in a cab, making his way to his apartment. He still could feel how nervous he was when he first entered your office. Mainly because of the interview but also because he had opened his favorite girl’s message right before he stepped into his new boss’ office.

That photo messed with him in the best ways possible. Thank God he was a man who had mastered control, so when he did step inside your office, he didn’t do so with a hard on in his pants.

When Bucky saw his new boss, his jaw almost dropped to the floor but he caught himself before he slipped. And gave you his best smile. The interview went well, he gazed at you whenever you looked away.

Good thing he got the job, which means this wouldn’t be the last time he saw his boss. There was a warmth radiating off the classy, elegant woman behind the desk, one which felt familiar weirdly. But he couldn’t place his finger on it.

As soon as he got home, he decided to call his favorite girl right away. And the minute he heard the lovely voice, all thoughts of his very gorgeous boss left his head temporarily. And he immediately wished it was Friday night already, where he could spend time and pleasure his favorite girl.

When he got off the call. He smiled at the thought of the woman whom he had been flirting shamelessly with for the past days. Then he thought about his boss. What a perfect little mess, being torn between two obviously beautiful women – not knowing who to daydream about the most.

 ---

Tuesday morning as you stepped into the elevator to go up to your floor, you sensed someone getting into the metal box along with you. You turned your face to the side and met with the prettiest stormy-blue eyes you had ever seen.

Your new office manager – James Barnes. Fucking hell.

“Good morning, Mr. Barnes. Ready for your first day?” you spoke, trying to act like you weren’t hot and bothered as you took in his appearance. The same well-groomed beard and slightly messy man bun. Dark blue button down shirt; which accentuated his eyes, grey tie and black slacks. His suit jacket folded over his arm. He looked good.

Better than good actually, he looked freaking hot. And you always were a sucker for men who knew how to dress properly.

He gave you a big smile. “Good morning, boss.” You chuckled at what he called you. “I am actually, and I promise not to let you down.” He spoke with a promise in his voice.

And you liked his confidence. His stance and demeanor screamed confidence, but not arrogance. Not one bit. “I’m certain you won’t.”

The rest of the elevator ride was spent in silence, both of you sensing the tension in between you two. You couldn’t tell if it was just a thing you had with elevators, or was it being inside a closed space with James which made you feel all hot and bothered.

On your way to the top, a couple of people entered the space as well. And in order to make room for them, James inched closer to you. And you could feel the smirk on his face as he did.

Lucky for you, he would work on the same floor as you. So you parted ways right outside his cabin.

“See you around, Mr. Barnes.”

“See you around, Ma’am.”

This time, the playfulness in his voice was hard to miss.

 Your phone buzzed as soon as you sat at your desk, signaling you had a message from Bucky.

Bucky: I hope you’re missing me. Because I am.

You giggled and replied right away.

You: Always am, soldier. Gotta go though, duty calls again.

Bucky: Are you bored of me already? Damn, and here I thought you liked me :(

You shook your head at his message, smiling.

You: I do! I promise we’ll talk tonight.

Bucky: Okay, doll. I’ll wait.

 You placed your phone down and got to work. There was a lot to be done today. Bucky lingered in the back of your head, but so did James. And you had to push aside thoughts of both men and get to work seriously.

 You were going about your morning just fine, free of thoughts of both gorgeous guys for some hours, when a knock at your door caught your attention.

“Come in.” you called. And in walked one of the most perfect man you had ever seen – James. “Oh, hi. How have you been so far?”

He walked over to your desk with two coffee cups and handed you one. You smiled and motioned for him to take a seat. “Great actually. I love it here. I was getting coffee and met up with your assistant. Then she mentioned your constant need for caffeine so I thought I should get you some.”

You smiled. “Buttering me up, huh? What did you do, Mr. Barnes? How bad did you mess up?” you joked, taking the cup from him.

He laughed. “None of that. Just wanted to see how my boss was doing.”

You giggled. You were sure that by now all your staff knew how much you relied on coffee to get through the day.  

-

You and James had a little chat – just about the company, and work and life in this city – before he had to get back to work. And even after he left, his cologne lingered in the air. You sighed in delight thinking about him. He was easy to be around and talk to. He was magnetic.

And the way he stared into your eyes when speaking made you all tingly and warm.

----

You got home and hopped into the shower. Your thoughts were again filled with James and Bucky. You made a mental note to call Bucky later since you had promised him so earlier in the day. But then, by the time you finished showering, a naughty idea formed inside your head as you looked at the large, floor to ceiling mirror in your bathroom.

You dried yourself, but on a flimsy black thong and posed in front of the mirror. Your arm shielding your breasts barely, as you snapped audacious pictures of yourself – naked, just in your thong; which also left very little to the imagination. Once satisfied, you selected a couple and sent them to Bucky.

Then you got dressed and lounged around in your bedroom; catching up on some reading, and responding to a couple of emails, until your phone rang again. It was Bucky, so you answered with a smirk.

“Hello Bucky.” You chirped, knowing damn well why he was calling.

He sighed, groaning. “Where are you?” his voice sounded so deep and raspy. The voice of a man who’s hot and bothered.

“In my bedroom. All alone. Why?” you acted oblivious.

He groaned loudly. “Get naked, and get on your bed. Now.” he ordered. Sounding so authoritative and stern that his voice sent pleasant chills down your spine, ending in tingles right in between your bed.

Woah… well you certainly didn’t expect that. “But… but today’s not our-,”

He cut you off by growling. “I don’t care what today is, babygirl. Your photos have me rock hard and now, I just need to hear you cum for me.”

Oh.

Your heart pounded at the sound of his voice. And at his request. This was new because he had never heard you moan, or orgasm before, it was always just him on video. This suddenly felt so intimate and it made you burn with desire and excitement.

“You…” you trailed off, not knowing how to reply to that.

He chuckled, and you could tell he had that god damn smirk on his face. “You heard me, babygirl. On your bed. Now.”

You trembled at the sound of his voice. “Okay.” You murmured and smiled as you got on your bed. You put the call on loud and waited.

“Now take off everything you’re wearing. I want you naked for me.” He whispered through the phone, his voice slowly but surely pulling you under his spell.

You took off the oversized shirt, and thong – leaving you bare in your bed. The dimmed lights only added to how hot you were feeling. Now all you needed was Bucky here with you, but unfortunately, despite however much you wanted him here in your bed physically, you’d have to make do with his voice alone.

“Are you done, babygirl?” he asked.

“Yeah.” your voice was just a little shaky.

“Good girl.” He purred and you almost audibly whined. “Now think of me and touch yourself.” he exhaled loudly, which gave away that he was probably touching himself as well. “If I was there, I would kiss every inch of your body, slowly… down your neck, your collar bones, and down your breasts… I would make you squirm and whine under me.”

You gasped as your cupped your breasts and pinched and tugged at your erected nipples. You imagined how those sinfully pink lips of his would feel against your skin. Warm and soft. He heard you, and chuckled.

“Are you wet for me, babygirl?” he asked, clearly smirking on the other end.

“Yes…” you whispered, voice barely audible as your hands slowly trailed down your body.

“Hmm,” he purred. “I wish I was there with you, in your bed. I would kiss my way down your body… your thighs, your pretty little cunt. And I wouldn’t give you want you wanted until you begged for it.” He chuckled. “Come on babygirl, beg for me…”

You whined loudly and obeyed. You begged, unashamedly, wantonly. And he was going crazy on the other end at the sound of your pleas. If only he could have you actually under him, he thought.

“Please Buck…” your voice hoarse and strained as you toyed with your breasts.

He chuckled. “Okay babygirl. You may touch your wet, little cunt for me.” He spoke, just a little breathless compared to earlier.

You lied down, parting your legs gently and touched yourself; imagining it was him. Your fingers slightly toyed with your folds.

“Feel how wet you are for me, babygirl? Fuck… I wish I was there to get a taste of your sweet little cunt. I’d put your legs over my shoulders, exposing you to me.” He chuckled darkly. “And I wouldn’t stop licking and tasting and eating out that little cunt of yours, fucking you with my tongue until you’re sensitive, and crying and begging for me to stop.” He growled.

Obscene sounds escaped your lips as your two fingers slipped inside your entrance with ease given that you were dripping by now. “Bucky…” you gasped, your body hot, your chest heaving.

“Hmm,” he groaned, touching himself at the thought of you. “I’m an impatient man, babygirl.” He chuckled again. “I would be so deep in you by now. Stretching you open, fucking you raw and making you scream and cum around my big cock.” He whispered, speeding up as he stroked himself.

Your back arched off the bed again, causing the air to mercilessly hit your bare chest and causing your nipples to erect even further. The pace at which your fingers effortlessly slipped in and out of you increased – your fingers brushing against every sensitive spot inside you; making you moan out loud.

He growled and swore under his breath as he heard you moan for him. “That’s it, babygirl, fuck yourself faster…” you did just as he asked. “Fuck, I wish I had you here on my lap. I would take you over and over and over again, just fucking you relentlessly, pumping my hard cock in and out of you until your body can’t take it anymore.”

You moaned out loud, back arching off the surface of the bed as you pushed your fingers deeper inside you; knuckles deep and you still wanted more. “Buck…” you gasped, swearing and moaning all at the same time.

“I’m right here, babygirl.” He whispered as he fisted his cock and threw his head back, grunting. “Are you close? Are you so close that you can’t think of anything else, huh? All you want is my big cock, isn’t it babygirl?”

You whined in response and he smirked.

“So desperate and needy, aren’t you baby? But don’t worry, I got you.” He groaned as he stroked himself faster. “Will you be my good girl and cum for me? Yeah?” he was starting to feel a little hazy, feeling his orgasm approaching fast.

You whimpered as you sped up your fingers inside you. “Yes… please Bucky.” You moaned and begged him to grant you your release. He was right, you couldn’t think of anything else. Nothing other than a certain man with a pair of blue eyes inside an elevator.

“Fuck… I love the sounds you make, babygirl.” He sounded breathless as he stroked himself, faster… and faster. He was groaning and clenching his teeth to keep himself quiet as he thought of a certain woman he saw this morning, behind a desk, looking like an angel yet so fuckable at the same time. “Come on, babygirl. Cum for me.”

The palm of your hands rubbed against your sensitive bundle of nerves over and over again; your moans got louder and louder as you felt your body getting warmer and warmer. You thrashed around and whined.

“Cum for me…” Bucky’s voice was a whisper. “Cum for me now!” he growled and you came around your own fingers as he came all over his hand. Both of you gasping, chest heaving and heartbeats ringing in your ears.

“Oh fuck…” you groaned as you let your orgasm wash over you.

Bucky panted, then chuckled. “Well done, doll.” he sounded so calm now that he had released all that pent up tension. His gorgeous boss, and then your photos. He was just a man, he could only take so much in one day.

You giggled as you came down from the high. “Now what was that, Soldier?” you asked, playfully.

He exhaled loudly through the phone and spoke, “Well, since we’re now friends, I figured I should also benefit from the perks of our friendship. Besides, you’re not exactly making it easy for me.”

You laughed. “Maybe I should do that often then, huh?” you teased.

He chuckled. “Like I said before babygirl, you can do and have whatever you want.” He repeated.

You smiled, part of you wondered why you thought of James earlier. And you got quiet for a minute. Bucky didn’t notice, because he too was wondering why he was thinking of his boss lady while touching himself just a minute ago.

“You okay, babygirl?” Bucky asked after a while, and you found your lids starting to droop a little.

You opened your mouth to speak, but yawned instead. Bucky heard and chuckled. “Yeah, just a little sleepy. I had a long day.”

He smiled and his voice came through the phone. “Get some sleep, okay? We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Okay. Good night, Buck.” you replied, picking your phone up.

“Good night, babygirl.”

He ended the call and laid down on his back. Well, well, isn’t this a lovely way to end a night?

 You sighed as you laid down on your back, lying naked in your bed you thought of the day and smiled. James and Bucky were making your days much better so far.

Just as you were about to doze off, your ‘work’ phone buzzed. You picked it up from your nightstand, and checked it. It was a new number who had texted you.

-Evening ma’am, this is James Barnes. Your assistant suggested that you should have my number. Also wanted to let you know that I’ve emailed you all the necessary details regarding the new project. Which you are not obliged to check right away of course. I can wait, I’m a patient man.

You chuckled a little at his message and quickly added him to your contacts.

You: Very well, Mr. Barnes. I’ll check the email first thing in the morning.

He replied right away.

James Barnes: Alright. Good night, ma’am

You giggled, typing a reply right away.

You: Good night, Mr. Barnes

You threw both your phones aside and fell asleep feeling all tingly.

Was it because of the very steamy phone call with Bucky or was it because James – your new, very hot employee just texted you good night?

 Bucky put down his ‘work’ phone and fell into bed with his personal phone in hand. He played around for a bit, checked his socials then found himself staring at the photos you sent him earlier again. He sighed, smiling to himself.

He felt all warm. But he couldn’t tell if it was because of the phone call with you or because of the thoughts of his boss lady. Either way, he was a happy man as he fell asleep that night.

  Little did either of you know that the grand revelation was right around the corner…

[some-kindofgnome]

Kinktober #5: Pretty Please? -  Hawks

In which you and Keigo coin a few new petnames for one another.

Characters: Takami Keigo (Hawks) / f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!), daddy kink, dom!Hawks, vaginal sex, a touch of begging, inappropriate use of gen Z social media apps

Notes: This man is getting dangerously close to the top of my simp list. It’s really becoming an issue. Today’s prompt is ‘Daddy Kink.’ Also, I didn’t come up with ‘kid’ as a nickname that Hawks uses... if u know, u know

Kinktober Masterlist

“How long have you been here?”

Keigo’s voice echoes in the hallway of his little apartment soon after you hear the jingle of his keys in the lock. While it certainly isn’t your first time coming to his place without him, you’re still not quite used to the appearance of that silvery little key dangling from your key ring.

Nor are you used to hanging around the place by yourself. You spent the morning in a coffee shop around the corner, working away- popping by the agency to see Keigo over lunch. He’d told you to come back here if you needed somewhere quiet to work- bonus points, since you’d be here waiting when he got home.

“Came straight after lunch,” you call absently. Your eyes are glued to the screen as you finish your thought, typing out your last email of the day. As soon as you hit send you snap the laptop shut, pushing it gently across the kitchen counter while climbing out of your chair.

“Hi,” you purr, catching up to him in the hallway. You grab his hand and he pauses, leaning in to peck your lips. When he pulls back, he’s got a lazy smirk drawn across his mouth.

“How you been, kid? Sure feels good comin’ home to you at the end of the day.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you tease, pushing your shoulder against his. You lean down and nuzzle his jaw, letting your cheek scrape against his scruff. “I’m a strong, independent woman.”

“Which is exactly why I love you,” he replies. He grabs your chin and pulls your mouth back to his, catching it in a kiss that would have surprised you with its tenderness, if you didn’t know him so well.

When you first met, he played the Cheshire Cat role eagerly. Smirking at you, pulling lines on you, making you think he was the laid-back hero that everybody knew him as. But the more time you spend with him, the more he opens up. The more he lets himself be vulnerable to you. And you him. You’d never meant to let him in so easily, but…

Here you are.

You flop down on the couch together, Keigo leaning against one arm while you keep your head cradled in his lap. He’s happy to fold his wings over the back of the couch and absently stroke your hair while you catch up a little. It’s only been a few hours since you’ve last seen one another, so you settle quickly into comfortable silence.

That’s when you open your phone, idly opening Tik Tok and starting to scroll. Every so often you come across a video related to Hawks. He’s got a lot of fans out there- and a lot of fangirls, too. You don’t mind, though. Sometimes they get a little too personal, however, and you like to scroll.

This time around, you don’t scroll fast enough.

You don’t catch the whole video, but it’s a clip of Keigo that somebody took on their phone. Suddenly, the audio cuts out and it’s interrupted by the sound of a female voice, moaning more obscenely than you could ever hope to.

“Daddy,” it mewls, and you scroll so fast the phone almost topples out of your fingers.

Frozen, you pull your eyes carefully up to meet the gaze of your boyfriend. He definitely heard. And while he knows that Tik Tok can pull up some random videos at times, you can see the flush spreading across his cheeks.

He shifts a little underneath you, hand paused on top of your head. He clears his throat.

“What was that?”

You consider your next words carefully.

“…A video.”

He swallows hard and licks his lips.

“What kind of video?”

Suddenly, it hits you. You have the reins. You realize exactly what’s going through his head. And the next time you look up at him, it’s with a wicked smirk stretching your lips.

“Why do you want to know?” You ask, and your voice has taken on the low sort of drawl that makes him shift again underneath you. “Don’t tell me you like the sound of that… Daddy.”

You feel the barest vibration in his chest as a tiny groan escapes him. He doesn’t move, but you can see the way his wings bristle, the joints stiffening a little as his feathers spread. Your stomach jolts excitedly.

“Don’t call me that,” he grunts, but you know he doesn’t mean it.

The two of you are far from vanilla most nights. You’re definitely up for a little experimentation. And pet names flow between you like water. But this feels… different. This feels controversial.

Oh, fuck. You’re into it, too.

“You do.” You scramble into a sitting position, swinging one knee over his thighs. He looks up at you with a pair of lidded tawny eyes, his jaw drawn slack in an expression that spells sheer arousal to you. You know that face well, and it makes your body ache.

“Do you want me to call you Daddy from now on?” You’re not letting up, and as you lean forward, his hands find your hips. They squeeze. Hard. His wings fan a gentle breeze over your face, and you love the way his breath hitches in your ear.

“Fuck, stop,” he groans. It’s more desperate this time, and as his hips keen against yours you can tell just how hard this is hitting him. He’s half-hard already, straining against the thick denim between you.

“Maybe now’s the time to tell you,” you whisper, “how bad I’ve wanted you all day, Daddy. I couldn’t stop thinking about you all afternoon. I even thought about ducking into your room before-”

That breaks him, and he snatches your hips and stands abruptly. He’s strong enough to carry you easily, and he lifts your thighs securely around his hips before beelining for the bedroom.

When you get there, instead of being spread on your back like the pillow princess he’ll normally let you pretend to be, he pushes you face-down into the pillows, letting your hips hang off the edge of his wide bed. He bends close, his chest brushing the column of your spine as his jaw brushes your ear.

“You brought this on yourself, kid,” he gruffs. He’s already working your sweater up your back. You lift your torso enough for him to wedge it off of you, but he doesn’t wait for you to do the same before he’s peeling your leggings down your thighs and taking your thong with it. The second your ass is bare he brings his palm down across it with a resounding snap.

“Kei-” you start to gasp, but he quickly silences you with another spank that draws a yelp from your throat.

“You started this,” he grunts, “you’re gonna finish it. What’s that you were gonna call me?”

You suck in a shaky breath and let your eyes flutter shut. You deserve this. You want it. All you have to do is take the plunge. The rest will follow. That breath you drew before gets held for a moment. And then you jump.

“Daddy,” you whimper, throwing an extra edge of desperation into it, “don’t tease me.”

“Shit, kid,” he grunts. His belt jingles as he gets his pants undone, and you hear them hit the floor. A breeze from his wings and another pile of fabric hitting the carpet determines that he’s naked now. He’s left your leggings partially on, though, keeping your legs pressed tightly together at the knees.

He knows what he’s doing.

When he steps up behind you again it’s with the warm presence of his bare skin on yours, and you feel the brush of his hand against the back of your thigh, gentle and rhythmic. He’s stroking his cock and you want more than anything to turn your head and sneak a peek, but you know that doesn’t fit into the game you’re playing.

“You ready for me, sweetness?”

He slips a hand between your legs, drawing his thumb along your slit and making you shiver. You could use a little more time, but you’re wet already. He drags his slick thumb down to the swell of your clit and circles it. The tender nerves are already pinched between your thighs, and the sensation is enough to make your hips buck harshly back against him.

Your ass connects with his thighs and he steps back a little, chuckling as he lays one hand in the small of your back to steady you.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you wanted something,” he drawls, continuing to circle your clit with that lazy thumb. It’s making your toes curl against the wood floor as stars explode behind your eyelids.

He leans in close. “Why don’t you tell me what it is?”

“You know what it is,” you choke, because it won’t be any fun at all if you fold right away.

“I know,” he quips, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “I just wanna hear you say it.” He draws his thumb across your clit in a sudden swipe, making your whole body jump. You squeeze your eyes shut and brace yourself.

“Fuck me, Daddy,” you plead, and he chuckles so low and feral it sends vibrations up your spine. He shifts forward again, hand still pushing you into the mattress. His thumb leaves your clit, but it’s soon replaced by the head of his cock, pressing flush against your slick pussy. You can feel it now that he’s touching you- you’re soaked.

“Now how am I s’posed to say no, baby, when you ask so- ah- nicely?”

His voice breaks as he pushes in, and your whine comes in sync with it. You’re always amazed at how perfectly the two of you seem to fit together. There’s a stretch, but no pain. There’s never been pain. And on top of that, the thirsty Twitter accounts are right.

Your man knows how to fuck.

He bottoms out inside you, sliding a palm to your ass, and lets out a breathy groan. But he’s grinning. You can tell. It’s been a long day for both of you.

For a man who talks so much during foreplay he’s relatively quiet- or, wordless, at least. There’s nothing quiet about the way he grunts as he draws himself back and pumps slowly into you again. He’s testing the waters, but with your thighs pressed together the way they are you’re even tighter than usual.

“Not gonna last long,” he warns headily, and that’s the last thing you hear before he starts to fuck you properly and all your senses go haywire.

When you swim back to the surface, the only sounds in the room are your mingled, laboured breathing, and the rhythmic slap slap slap of his thighs against your ass. There’s something about the angle he’s taking you from- he’s hitting you just right, and you squirm in front of him with a desperate mewl.

“Daddy,” you whine, taking the game and running with it, “daddy, please, I wanna cum.”

“Don’t you worry, sweetness,” he growls behind you, breathless and feral. “Daddy’s not gonna leave you hangin’.”

It sounds different coming out of his mouth. The appeal was already there- anything that turns him on turns you on, too, almost as a direct result. But when you hear it coming from him, it flips your stomach in a way that you could get used to.

He slides an arm beneath your waist and hauls you off the bed, pulling you back against his chest as he continues to fuck up into you. His right hand dances down your hip and between your legs, finding the swollen nub of your clit. He strums it deftly, making you squeal.

“Yeah,” you whimper, letting your head fall back against his shoulder as he holds you close. “Fuck, I’m getting there.”

“Me too, kid,” he pants into your ear. “So damned tight. Fuck, you’re suckin’ the life outta me.”

In another half-dozen thrusts you’re dangling precariously on the edge. He’s still going, hitting you just right and pushing you there one inch at a time. Suddenly he re-centers his grip on you and comes back with renewed ferocity. His rhythm doubles.

You fall.

Your orgasm is particularly spectacular this time around. Your spine goes concave as your legs go fluid. You reach back and grab at his hips as you keen and twitch and rock through the pleasure. Your pussy convulses around his cock and his hips stutter. He grabs you hard, holding you up as he explodes, warm and liquid inside you.

When it’s over, you both collapse onto the mattress. Outside, the sun is painting brilliant streaks of apricot across the sky. A gentle autumn breeze flutters the curtains. You finally catch your breath.

“So,” you sigh, turning your head where it’s cradled on his chest. His body is beautiful, and now that you’ve finally got the chance to look you don’t take it for granted. He’s all long lines and clean muscle, dusted over with tawny hair and the last kisses of the summer sun.

He’s kissing your shoulder as you speak up, one scarlet wing folded neatly at his shoulder, the other fanned out across the bed.

“It’s gonna be Daddy, then, is it?”

He snorts, smirking against your skin.

“Sure didn’t sound like you had a problem with it two minutes ago.”

“I don’t,” you quip, tracing a finger down his sternum. “I liked it. I…” You trail off, and your ears warm. “I liked it.”

He pulls back from your shoulder and rests his head against the pillow beneath him, his eyes casting over your face. Warm and loving and heartbreakingly genuine despite the… sensitive nature of your conversation.

“So did I,” he purrs, and you fall silent for another few minutes. Decompressing. Basking, he’ll say later on. Inevitably, the needs of the evening step in, and as the last rays of light fade from the city you lift your head.

“Dinner?”

His eyes were closed, but they slide slowly open again at the sound of your voice. In the dim like this, they’re the colour of almonds, always soft when they’re looking you over. You fall a little more in love with him every time he looks at you like that.

Then he shoots you a near-boyish crooked grin and your heart warms all over again.

“Whatever you want, kid.”

[soulwillower]

taboos and the absurd iii • richie tozier

(professor richie tozier x reader smut)

requested: hi! i just finished reading taboos and the absurd, SUCH A GOOD SERIES. This is just some idea i had and im totally okay if u don’t want to do it, but would you write maybe a final part of the series when the reader finds out richie fucked more students (more than she though) and she gets upset and stops talking to richie (ridiculous jealousy) but he really was falling for her so he talks to her and well things get heated, and KDKDKD ok sorry if im too specific, hope u see this❤️❤️❤️🥰🥰 + hey omg i love the prof. richie series sm 🥵 if you plan on making a pt. 3 might i suggest reader giving richie head while hes giving a lecture and reader gets fucked on the table 😳😳 its hoe hours frfr + so many other requests to continue the series :)

warnings: smut, oral sex (male receiving), bad morals, abuse of power, dont fuck your professor, filthy stuff, professor richie, deepthroating, dirty talk, use of the word slut, cockwarming, unprotected sex, mentions of exhibition, a bit of degradation and a lot of praise, unedited as usual lol

[losers + reader are 20+ in this]

4.4k words

part 3 of taboos and the absurd series. sorry it’s been so long :) i wanted to surprise u a bit with a lil surprise for the holidays. i love u all!! <3

[ i  ii ]

 ♡

you hadn't been to class in almost a week and a half.

it was really bad, you know - and the ditching has started to affect your grade, but you don't even care as much as you really should. because you're.... extremely jealous.

yeah.

you'd first gotten suspicious the lecture after you stayed behind and ended up with professor tozier's dick in your hands. a girl was sitting on his desk after class, when you'd walked in to turn in a late paper, and richie had been twirling her hair. they were laughing together, her bare legs. it made you burn up, and so you tossed the paper down at the drop bin at the back of the classroom loud enough that he noticed you’d come in.

you were so mad you didnt stay to see anymore. and you didnt go to class for more than a week after.

it could have been just an innocent gesture, or maybe just some woman richie was dating - either way, you were beyond jealous. it filled you with rage to imagine richie fucking anyone else, let alone a student. you were hurt, too - because you've really started to like spending time with your professor.

but that backfired of course, because you’re in your apartment staring at an email from him.

i will be at my office on campus after hours this friday, until roughly 9:30. if you're available, i encourage you to stop by.

we have a lot to discuss regarding your grade and future in my class.

thanks,

professor richard tozier

you blink at the screen, your heart racing. your fingers shake slightly as you reach up to rub your temples - oh god, he wants to talk. he's going to turn you down, say it was a mistake, and fail you.

and in the few days until friday, your rage and fear meld together to make a jealous, ugly monster as you stalk up the empty corridors to his office, ready to speak.

it's late, probably around 8 when you knock on his door, but he's still there as promised, answering with a faint come in!

you walk in slowly, heart pounding in anxiety as you meet eyes with him for the first time in almost 14 days. your heart thumps hard still as he nods at you, "you can shut the door and take a seat, ms. y/l/n."

you swallow as you click the door shut and move to the chair, sitting down awkwardly and biting your lip. "hi, professor." you say, afraid your jealousy is going to spill from you if you say anything else.

"you haven't been in class."

you nod, "you noticed."

he sighs through his nose and leans forward on his desk. you clench your thighs - no getting turned on, y/n. not now. "of course i did. i'm your professor, ms. y/l/n."

"right, sir, i almost forgot. you just get so comfortable with all your students now, sometimes it's hard to remember." you bite, and his eyebrows raise. "some more than others." he adds, shooting you a look that you ignore, instead turning your stubborn gaze to the clock behind his curly head. you can nearly smell his cologne from where you sit, and you're almost drooling. you can't let him see it.

"what's going on? your grade is dropping. you’re not coming to classes." he says, sounding like he's concerned. you bite your lip, shaking your head as you look at him. "i'm not going to come to class just to watch you flirt with the girls and let them give you fuck me eyes."

"that's exactly what you do to me constantly, as i seem to recall." he bites back. you feel yourself turn red, but you sit forward more so you lean over his desk just like he is.

"whatever. i don't care, i'd just appreciate it if you'd tell me that you're going to fuck other students so i can leave. and not walk in on you right before you do so.” you say, suddenly so thankful you chose to come later when nobody was on this floor, the only other person in the building being the custodian sleeping at the front desk.

professor tozier tilts his head with a smirk, "oh, you're adorable. my jealous little slut, crying because she can't have me to herself."

your jaw drops, the remaining thin layer of professionalism gone the minute he opened his mouth. "fuck you, professor. i'm leaving."

"i wasn't finished." he says sternly, and something in his voice makes you sit back down. he looks mad and it's confusingly hot, your legs feeling like jelly because of your excitement. "if you weren't such a brat, you would have heard me say that i'm not fucking anyone else. student or not."

you stare at him, confused as your face reddens again. you're embarrassed. "but-"

"the woman you saw last week, when you came back after the lecture. that's professor marsh, she's one of my colleagues and best friends. she's also happily married." he says, sounding pissed off. "i'd appreciate some trust, it's not like i going around fucking every student who wants to open their legs for me - although plenty have tried." he says.

you feel yourself soaking through your panties. god you have problems,don't you? "i'm sorry sir, i-" you start but he shakes his head, standing up from his chair and walking towards you. you watch him with big eyes, as he clenches his jaw. "no, don't apologize. just know. you're the only one." he mutters as he crosses behind you.

you stare at his empty desk, face blushing at his words. the only one. the click of the lock on the door gives you butterflies, and then he's behind you, hand trailing over your shoulder. "if you still want me, that is. your most recent paper was very good, but i know you can do much better. you just have to try for me." he's caressing your neck now, lips ghosting over the skin. you let out a soft moan, goosebumps raising on your soft skin as he feathers it with kisses. your butterflies are alight as you turn your head, kissing him.

he grips your jaw almost immediately, pulling your head upwards towards where he bends over you. you gasp as his hand rests on your thigh, and he smiles against your lips. "you're so sensitive, hmm? when was the last time you touched yourself?"

you gulp, shaking your head, shocked still by his boldness and by your willingness to be honest. "a f-few days ago." you say shakily as he kisses along your jaw, hand sliding up your thigh slowly. he tuts, "baby, you're going to fall apart when i'm through with you." he mutters, almost to himself, and that makes you choke out a moan.

he kisses you again and you push back enthusiastically, hand raising to palm him through his slacks. he's already semi hard, which makes a swell of pride blossom in your chest. but suddenly he breaks off the kiss, hissing in surprise. "fuck." he mutters, backing away from you. you blink, did you go too far? your thighs press together as richie rushes to his desk. "i have to proctor this exam in zoom. in....two minutes."

oh.

you blink and watch as he logs into his laptop and adjusts his hair in its camera. it's endearing, in a way that makes you smile, though extremely riled up and disappointed. you begrudgingly reach for your things, but professor tozier's hand comes up to stop you, "please stay. it's only going to be max forty minutes. i have beer in the bottom drawer if you want some." he rushes out, and you smile. "you sure?" you say shyly.

he looks at you, pausing. "yeah, y/n. of course." he says gently, smiling almost shyly back at you. he looks so young, it makes you stare in awe. his dimple pops and you hear the sound of ringing, the students joining the call to take their exam. only professor tozier would have an exam this late on a friday. asshole, you laugh to yourself.  

you open a bottle of beer you find hidden under a stack of manilla folders, but don't even take a sip as your mind wanders. richie's speaking to the class, sounding professional and confident. you wonder if he's still hard.

so you smirk, feeling bold, and you get down onto your hands and knees and crawl under his desk until you're face level with his belt. gently, you spread his legs apart so you can get up and closer to him, and the slight jump he gives confirms that he didn't even notice you go under the desk.

you gently start to palm him and he clears his throat loudly, fist slamming on the desk slightly above you. over the speakers you hear professor, are you alright? and then richie's muttering, "y-yes, just a slight problem i need to fix." he's gritting it though his teeth and you grin to yourself as you unzip his pants and pull out his fully hard cock, running your fingers over it and smearing the precum. he's breathing tensely and he starts to speak to the class, giving tips on a certain question after one student asks him a question.

you pump him a few times gently, then start to kitten lick his tip, wanting to tease him since you've never had the upper hand like this before. you flatten your tongue along the bottom of his cock, teasing him a bit before slowly taking him into your mouth, sliding a bit before bobbing. the quiet groan he lets out as you take him as far as you can is sinful, a student asking richie about formatting as you suck him off. bobbing your head, you hollow your cheeks and relish in the feeling of richie’s cock in your throat, stretching you out and making you moan around him.

"y-yeah, so for this i'm really just looking for MLA-" he almost hiccups to cover up a groan as you try to hold yourself still with him all the way down your throat, as far as you can take him. "MLA formatting, nothing out of the ordinary. thank you for asking that."

and then you hear him slam a button and he groans out, “you feel so good baby.” he hisses, his hand moving from above the desk down to grip the back of your head, carding through your hair. "don't fucking stop." he says, his hand guiding your head as you work hard.

after a few minutes you pull off of him to take a few breaths, pumping as much as you can with your hand as he tries to act like he isn't getting sucked off while proctoring an exam. you can hear people starting to turn in their exams and saying goodbye, so you take him back into your mouth and try to relax, breathing through your nose as his cock twitches in the back of your throat and you gag.

you bob your head after that, your tongue flat against his cock as he slightly bucks his hips. you feel him type out something for the class and then he moans very lowly, bucking his hips up and you choke a bit as he slides further in your mouth and stretches your throat.

he doesn't feel you that he's about to cum, you just know, and he's clenching the edge of his desk and breathing hard as you eagerly swallow around him, moving slightly so the new angle makes him toss his head back for a brief moment before snapping back to the screen.

"professor, are you sure you’re okay?" someone asks again. you keep bobbing up and down on him as he mutters, "yes, thank you ms. ruben. finish your work and we can leave."

you figure those words are for you, and you move harder, helping him chase his high. he pulls your hair suddenly, which makes you keen forward and take him deep, gagging as you force your throat to relax.

and then soon he’s hitting his high, cumming in your mouth with a silent shudder, his hand squeezing his desk as the other hovers over his keyboard. you moan a bit as you swallow, pulling off him slowly as he pants, eyes glancing down at you.

you slide back up into your seat and sip on your beer, fixing your hair slightly as his eyes bounce from you to the screen. you smile innocently at him, his cheeks flushed and looking disheveled as he waits fro the last students to finish.

it's about three mintes until they're done and he stares directly at you once he ends the meeting. you expect him to say anything but what comes out of his mouth next.

"if you pull something like that again i will fuck you in front of the entire class.” he says it dead serious, eyes bright behind his glasses and boring straight into yours.

your legs feel like they could give out and you turn red as you watch him, “don’t act like that thought doesn’t have you already getting hard again.” is all you can think to say. it spills from your mouth quickly, your mind not even given time to think before you say it.

richie narrows his eyes, rising slowly from his chair and walking towards you, eyes locked the whole time. “funny. because you’re the one who couldn’t even wait two minutes before needing my cock in her mouth. i bet you’d let me fuck you anywhere i wanted and you’d still thank me for it afterwards, right princess?”

you’re not really used to this fierce banter between you and your professor - but when has this ever been professional?

you squeeze your legs together and stand up on wobbly legs. “shut up. you’re the one who said you’d give me first-hand experience on my essay. you wanted me the second you saw me.” you try to regain the upper hand, but he’s walking towards you and your legs hit the edge of his desk.

“of course i did, doll.” he says lowly, lips suddenly very close to yours. “and i still do.”

and you’re kissing again desperately, days upon days of desperation working its way into your kiss as you sit yourself on his desk and he comes between your legs, gripping your thighs.

he's dragging his hips against yours, his hard cock pressing against your heat and making you pant with need as you tug his curly strands. his hands then move to quickly undo his pants and pulling himself out of his boxers, his hard cock slapping against his abdomen. you whimper slightly as you spread your legs a bit, desperate to finally feel him inside you.

and then his hand is grabbing your face, thumb holding your chin as he turns your head to look right at him. "you better do exactly what i say, princess." he says, looking into your eyes. you nod, his thumb grip stern as he lines up at your entrance. “hm? or you wont get what you want.”

"yes, richie, yes. wan' it so bad, please." you mutter, making him smile. "aren’t you a good girl." he says with a grin, nudging your shoulder down until you’re laying on your elbows, legs bent and feet propped against the edge of his desk. then he’s pulling your lacy underwear aside and pushing into you in one motion.

the sudden stretch fills you to the brim and you let out a guttural noise at the feeling, having not been too warmed up to his cock. your back rubs uncomfortably against the wood of the desk as he pushes into you, but your hands grip his shoulders and all you can think about is richie. but then he stills, staring at you as he’s stretching you out, buried to the hilt.

you think he’s giving you time to adjust and so you relax, breathing as you take in the size of him. after a few moments, you kiss him. “please move richie.”

but he doesnt. and you moan, your legs quivering as he gently caresses one of your bent knees.

“good girl, begging for me.” his hands grip your thighs, holding them open as your eyes roll back slightly, “so fuckin’ pretty like this, baby.”

you turn red at the praise, trying to move your hips and feel him deep inside you. his hand falls to your stomach, pressing slightly. he tuts and you gasp, “stay still for me baby, wanna see you wait for it.”

you whimper, eyes closing as you try to breathe normally. his hands run up and down your sides, stomach, chest, hips, and then down your legs as he stands still, buried in you. your breathing is shaky with need. 

and then when you think you can’t handle it any longer, richie slowly pulls out. you moan, hands gripping his shoulders as the feeling coils your abdomen with pleasure. he starts thrusting slowly, picking up the pace so slowly it was torturous.

your nails rake down his back, and even though it’s through his shirt you’re sure it’ll leave faint red lines. your toes curl in pleasure as he moves his hips, hitting the perfect spot inside you.

“look at you, all wrecked on your professor’s cock.” he pounds you into the desk, lips then falling to suck large marks on your neck, the stinging pleasure adding to the volume of your moans.

his hands rise to lift your shirt up over your chest, sliding up to quickly palm your breasts, his hips starting to snap in an unforgiving pace. you feel him so deep inside of you that tears prick at your eyes, the pleasure building instantly. he’s leaning over you as he hits the sweet spot deep inside you, your vision coming in and out of focus as your legs begin to shake. “yes, richie, right there.” you moan, holding him above you as one of his hands goes to your hip, gripping tight as he pulls you towards him in time with his thrusts. it makes you yelp in pleasure, head tiltin back in euphoria.

he pulls back to look at you, hand tugging on your hair so you look at him as he pounds into you. "look at you, such a brat teasing me while i was teaching.” his voice is deep and rough, "look at you now, drunk on my cock. you just needed to remember your place, huh baby?" he coos, pressing a kiss to your temple, the feeling overwhelming as your orgasm creeps up quickly. “such a pretty girl.” he whispers.

you’re speechless as he pounds into you perfectly, the feeling making you sigh. "so perfect, all for me... so fuckin' pretty, baby." he's muttering kissing you like he's claiming you, his teeth clashing slightly with yours and his tongue dominating. you're weak, legs shaking as he pounds into you.

“are you close, doll?” he asks, eyes closed in bliss as he tilts his head back, hair catching the fluorescent light of his office lamp and looking beautiful. “yes, s’close, please-“ you moan, pulling him to your lips.

your eyes close slightly as he thrusts into you, one hand slipping up to roll your nipple softly and making you moan his name. as he sucks a hickey on to your neck, his thrusts begin to get sloppy and you clench around him. “god, you were made for me, baby. fuck, takin’ it so well.” 

and you hit your high after a series of pleas and moans of richie’s name, your eyes rolling back in euphoria. he’s rubbing your cheek, still thrusting as he whispers, “good girl, cumming on my cock.” the moan he lets out at the feeling of you clenching around him has you red as you feel his hips stutter. “fuck, y/n.”

you’re still clenching slightly from overstimulation as richie quickly pulls out of you, cumming on your bare stomach with a moan of your name, a sweet sound from the pink of his lips. you moan in pleasure as you watch him.

you look up with hooded eyes, still coming down from your high as his head falls on your shoulder. “fuckin’ hell, toots.” he whispers with a laugh, which makes you giggle a bit as you catch your breath, mind still muddled.

after a moment richie pulls away, re-tucking in his pants and straightening his shirt. he crosses behind you and returns with a shy, boyish grin and a box of tissues. you smile back and he gently guides your hand away as he reaches for a tissue himself, wiping you clean gently and pressing kisses over your stretch marks, kissing all the way up to your lips and making you giggle. your stomach is full of butterflies as he helps you right yourself from the desk.

“did you drive here?” he asks. you shake your head, looking up to him for a second, “i walked.” you squeak.

he nods. “i’m driving you.”

you flush, “no, i couldn’t ask you to do that, professor.” you say shyly. he throws you a look as he pulls his jacket on, shutting down his work laptop. “get over here now, doll. and don’t protest. i’m driving you, toots. it will make my night to buy us some chinese takeout.”

your heart flutters as you take his hand, glancing at the ground with a smile as he locks his door, both of you stopping and staring at the plaque on the outside of the door that reads:

professor tozier, sociology dept.

you cough and he looks down the hall before grabbing your hand again and making your way out to the parking lot. it’s silent - both of you certainly thinking about how wrong this, whatever it is, is. you almost roll your eyes at the cheesiness of what you think next - but why does it feel so right?

© all content belongs to soulwillower 2020. do not modify, repost, or redistribute.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings​ @stenbrozier​​  @sft-core @clownsloveyou​  @moon-shine-baby​ @daughter-of-the-stars11  @trashedfortozier @oceandog13​ @chl0bee​  @kait16xo @upamongthestarss​ @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s  @leighjaenikhowell @cowbellies @deepestofwaters @melinda-weasley @sassy-uris @loverloserrr

[hisunshiine]

—𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘥  |pjm|

⟢ pairing: Tattoo Artist!Jimin x First Time Tatoo!reader

⟢ genre: strangers2lovers | smut, fluff | oneshot | tattoo shop au

⟢ rating: 18+, nsfw

⟢ summary: You decided to get a tattoo when the $13 dollar deal is happening and find out it’s because your tattoo artist is celebrating his birthday, which falls on the 13th. His needle penetrates you, then he penetrates you. Happy Birthday indeed. 

⟢ warnings: minimal blood and pain (she’s getting a tattoo)

⟢ kinks: pain kink (from the tattoo) teasing, semi-public sex, thigh kissing, oral f.receiving, fingering, cum eating, unprotected sex, breast play, is there a term for fucking the cum into someone?

⟢ word count: 2.2k

⟢ author’s note: the way they looked at the MOTS ON:E concert really fucked me. Happy Birthday to our cutie sexy lovely Jimin.

“I’m excited and scared at the same time.” You said, bouncing nervously on your toes. Your best friend eyed the display in front of her.

“I think this one is really pretty… Maybe I should get a piercing. I really like this one, YN.” She points out a shiny gemstone embedded in surgical grade silver, and you nod.

“I am so torn. I want to get a tattoo really badly, and today is the 13th, so they’re doing 13 dollar tattoos. But I also want to pierce my cartilage.”

“You ladies need some help?” 

You looked up at the figure that had approached you from the other side of the counter. His smirk as he eyed you up and down left you feeling warm.

“Yes, ” your best friend began without looking up, “she’s looking to get a 13 dollar tattoo, and I’m debating on this piercing.”

Once she finally was done ogling the jewelry, she made eye contact with the man and almost gasped. He was taller than the both of you, roughly 5 foot 8, and lean. His grey/platinum blond hair was loose around his face, showcasing the cut of his jaw and the intensity of his gaze. Dressed in black and silver, you couldn’t deny how hot he was. He quirked an eyebrow up, turning back to you.

“Do you know what tattoo you want?”

“I do,” you answered shyly. “I want a simple one, just the outline of a heart, but, um.. Do you have any… female tattoo artists?”

He smirked again, and you felt embarrassed for asking.

“Bangtan Tattoo Shop doesn’t have any female artists or piercers currently… but I promise, I’ll be gentle.”

Your best friend inhaled again watching the exchange between you and the worker, nearly choking on the sexual aura he was exuding.

“Oh, are you the tattoo artist?”

“The one and only Park Jimin, at your service. We have a couple artists, but they’re all already working on someone and I just finished, so once you fill out the online consents, I’ll take you back.” He passes you a tablet that’s open to a consent form.

“Um, what about piercings?” Your best friend had finally found her voice again.

“I’ll send Hobi over, he’s the best we’ve got.” 

Jimin hands another tablet to your best friends and disappears behind the curtain behind him.

“Please tell me that you saw what I saw.”

“That fine ass man? I definitely did.”

“I can’t believe you’re gonna let him touch you there...” Your best friend hit submit on her tablet and set it back down on the glass display case. 

“It’s not like it’s that risque… it’s small anyways so it’ll be done in no time.”

The sound of the curtain opening ends your conversation.

“Ready, little lady?”

You nod and he motions you around the counter and through the black curtain. As you walk past him, you see a man with several piercings and multiple tattoos on his arms walking towards you.

“She’s right out there, boss. Had her fill out the waiver and everything.”

“Thanks Chim. Happy Birthday again!”

The man, despite all of his jewelry and tattoos, had a cheerful disposition, and radiated a fun energy. He looked tough and menacing, but when he smiled, all of that melted away. You felt confident he would do a good job on your friend.

“Andddd.. Right through here.” Jimin pointed you towards a doorway and you headed inside, eyeing the bed and tattoo equipment laid out. As he followed you inside and shut the door, you turned to ask him where you should sit.

“Alright, before I have you climb up on the table, where do you want this small tattoo?”

“I want it right here.” You pointed at a spot below your hip, right at the apex of where your bikini line meets your leg. You thought it was the perfect place for a dainty tattoo that would only be seen by the men who would be lucky enough to get your panties off of you.

“Ah, I see why you asked for a female artist.. Well, I will have you know that I have tattooed many a half naked woman. No worries. I’ll treat you right.” He winked, and it went straight to your core.

“Let me see the design you want, so I can get that drafted up and ready to draw onto you.”

You showed him a beautiful image of detailed line work that created a flower. 

“This will look so good on you, send this to the email posted above the door.” Jimin pointed at a plaque on the wall above the closed door that listed the wifi information and an email to the shop.

“I’m just gonna have you strip from the waist down, and wrap this towel around you as best as you can to cover all the bits you're worried about, just make sure to leave the area you want done exposed. I’ll print out the design and I’m gonna grab the correct size gloves, they put the wrong ones in here again.”

Jimin left the room with a box of gloves in hand, and you quickly stripped down, winding the towel around your waist and climbing onto the table. Laying back, you tug at the towel, creating enough slack to cover your mound while still keeping the right side exposed for the tattoo. Getting comfortable, you logged into the wifi network and sent the image to the email address as requested. Waiting for Jimin to return felt like it took forever, but you knew that it was just your nerves talking. This would be your first tattoo.

“Ready, baby girl?” Jimin popped back into the room and you jumped, nerves getting the best of you. He adjusted the table so that you were slightly leaned back and your legs dangled at the knee.

“Let me wash my hands and glove up, then we can get started.”

You took the opportunity to eye Jimin as his back was turned to you. The way the black leather pants hugged his ass, showcasing his lean legs that were toned. 

“It’s, uh, it’s your birthday today?” You asked, voice cracking just slightly.

“Yup! The big 2-5. That’s actually why we do the 13 dollar tattoos in October. I offer this rate to celebrate so I can spend the day doing something that I love.”

“Wow, that’s amazing. Happy Birthday!”

“Thank you. Alright, if you’re ready, I’m gonna use this wipe to remove any hair and then place this and you let me know if it’s where you want it or we can adjust.”

You could feel his gentle touch as he wiped the hair removal cloth along your skin before placing the trace of the flower there. Handing you a mirror, you eyeball the location and nod, letting him know that you approve of it.

You take deep breaths as you wait for him to start, trying to ease your nerves. Once the gun makes contact with your skin, you let out an indecent moan. You were expecting it to hurt, and while there definitely is some pain, there is also no mistaking the arousal that leaks from your core. The buzz of the gun is loud, but you’re sure that Jimin noticed the way you formed your mouth into an ‘O’ and closed your eyes. If you hadn’t been instructed to stay still, you might have arched into it, enjoying the way his other hand was braced along your hip, gripping you as he leaned over your lower half to follow the outline. 

Sitting on a rolling chair and positioned between your knees, Jimin was very aware of the way you were reacting to the tattoo. It excited him, finding someone who looked as good as you did who reacted the same way to being tattooed as he had his first time. He tried to ignore the slight hard-on he got from hearing you moan from him decorating your virgin skin.

About 15 minutes later, Jimin had finished the delicate lines of the flower, and wiped away the residual ink. You sat back with your eyes closed, breathing heavily as you calmed down from the rush of endorphins. Jimin looked up at you, admiring the way your lashes highlight your cheekbones.

“Well done, baby girl.”

His breath tickles your inner thigh as he inspects his work, and you look down at him, perfectly positioned to fulfill your wildest dreams.

“It actually didn’t hurt like I thought it would.”

“Seemed like you enjoyed yourself through it.”

“Oh, you noticed that did you?” you ask sheepishly, failing to close your thighs to soothe the ache forming. 

“I noticed quite a bit… This tattoo is gorgeous here by the way. The perfect surprise.” Jimin looks up at you, eye fucking you slowly. “I can see it now, the lucky bastard running his hands like this along your thighs,” Jimin had removed his gloves and placed his soft palms against your thighs. He slides them up, eyes daring you to stop him. You don’t.

“I can see him spreading your thighs apart, kissing up your leg...” He dips his head down and you shiver as his pouty lips make contact with your thigh, soft wet kisses dragging themselves higher and higher.

“Him removing all the clothing blocking you from sight...” Jimin grips the towel and you watch as it glides off of you, revealing your wet folds to him. “Baby girl, I’d really like something sweet for my birthday...”

You nod consenting to his statement, knowing he’s asking to taste you. He wastes no time, tongue tracing your folds as he sucks and licks you, tongue dancing across your clit as your hands bury themselves into his hair. His hands grip your hips, careful not to touch your tattoo. You can’t help the sounds you make, moans rolling from your lips as he pushes your legs farther open before guiding his fingers inside of you. His lips latch onto your clit, paying it special attention as he finger fucks you, but it’s not enough.

“Please, Jimin...”

He pulls away from you, chin glossy with your arousal, but continues to pump his fingers in you slowly.

“I want to feel you, all of you.”

You buck your hips suggestively, and he grins.

“Fuck, baby girl, I’d love to feel you grip me the way you’re gripping my fingers.”

With a lewd, slick sound, he pulls his fingers free, enjoying the way your wetness coats them. He spreads the two fingers that were inside of you and you can see the way the juices cling together, sticky between his digits. He brings them to his mouth, sucking them clean.

The sight along caused you to clench, a small mewl from your throat catching his attention.

“Such a dirty girl… That turned you on?”

Eyes hooded, you nod, biting your lip.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.”

His lips meet yours, and they’re as soft as they looked. You can taste yourself in his mouth, and you tense when you feel the flared tip of his cock sliding against your leaking cunt. He teases your opening before he pushes past, stretching your walls to fit his girth. The angle of the chair allows you to feel him well, the tip of his cock teasing at your g-spot. 

His hands travel up your torso, pushing up your shirt until his hands are cupping your breasts, thumbs teasing your sensitive nipples through the lace bra you wore. He eases his face down until his tongue is lined up with your breast, the wet muscle laving the peak through the material. His hips move steadily, plunging him deeper and deeper with each thrust, and you can feel yourself building closer to climax. 

“Shit, Jimin, you feel so good...”

He giggles, and it’s a beautiful sound, melodic and soothing, and you feel him speed up. A free hand rubs at your swollen nub, infinity symbols drawn against your pink clit. His teeth graze your neck and when you feel him bite you, you let go.

Legs trembling, it’s earth shattering the way Jimin takes you through the crests. He can feel each wave of the multiple orgasms he produced, and he takes advantage of the pulsing walls to join you in this euphoric state. 

He wasn’t planning to fill you, so he pulled out and allowed his cum to pool on your mound. Due to the angle, it began to leak down across your clit and towards your opening, which he watched with desire. He really wasn’t planning to fill you, but he couldn’t resist fucking his seed back into you, allowing your satin core to milk the rest of him into you.

You had fully intended to only get ink on your skin today. Expected a little pain with every puncture. The pleasure of your tattoo artist's cock penetrating your pussy walls was just an added bonus, one you’re pretty sure the birthday boy enjoyed as well.

-

ℍ𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕪 𝔹𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕙𝕕����𝕪 𝕁𝕚𝕞𝕚𝕟, 𝕔𝕦𝕥𝕚𝕖, 𝕤𝕖𝕩𝕪, 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝𝕪

[ciggylungz]

Music to my ears

Music to my ears- 1.7k

Blurb night: (Request: What abt like something in the studio? Like studio sex 🥵 your header inspired me lol)

 ------

Y/n always loved when Harry brought her to the studio with him, seeing her man all in his grove and in his element made her happy. She couldn’t deny how sexy he looked when he was strumming on the guitar or sitting with a clenched jaw, drumming his fingers while tweaking some lyrics to make it perfect.

Harry was all smiles when he heard the studio door open, his beautiful girlfriend making her way into the room holding some water bottles for him and the band, and some nice food- remembering to skip any item with dairy in it since it can clog up his throat with phlegm which wouldn’t be too good while trying to belt out another billboard hit.

“There she is! Hey darlin’” Harry craned his neck to peck her as she walked by, he was seated in a office chair going over some sheet music Mitch had written that belonged to the instrumental section of one of his works in progress and Y/n gave him a good once over decided he looked especially hot in his black slacks and wrinkled rolling stones shirt. “I brought treats! The BLT for Mitch, Cesar salad hold the crotons for Sara with a side of soup, two blueberry muffins and a black tea for Jeff and a sparkling lemon water with a vegan chicken noodle soup for my Harry- with of course- the breads you requested with it my dear.”

Y/n handed out the goodies to the group of artists, giving Harry his food with a kiss on his cheek perching herself on the table in front of him to snag a few bites of his food every so often as she talked with the group listing to some of the music they’d already got down dancing in her spot a little bit enjoying the behind the scenes of his upcoming album. “Sound’s good, I think you got another hit in the makin’ here baby. ‘m proud of yeh bub!” Y/n ran her fingers through Harry’s hair, the man giving her a content coo and grip on her thigh in return rubbing his thumb on the denim covered skin lovingly.

“Thank ya’, couldn’t do it without these guys or you my love. You guys make me great, would be nothin’ without ya’” his sweetness got a chorus of adored ‘awes’ which the slightly arrogant artist bathed in dramatically waving his hands and pretending to be bashful earning him some chuckles from everyone in the room.

 -------

It was nearing 10 in the evening when Mitch finally decided to call it a night, everyone else besides Harry and Y/n had left over the last few hours. Each trickling out with some yawns and good bidding's as they decided to make their way home but Harry was focused on his music, and Y/n knew once he was this much in a grove, he wasn’t going to pack up till he felt it was time. in the meantime Y/n was sprawled out on one of the couches in the room, her left hand absentmindedly running over the suede pushing the material back and fourth in a satisfying pattern while scrolling through her phone texting a few friends and replying to some emails in between playing random games on the device.

Harry was deep into his work, tongue tucked between his teeth while his knee bounced slightly to the melody playing in his head. He was currently trying to put the finishing touches on medicine , a rather proactive song that he was still on the fence about releasing or keeping a concert special. His inspiration behind it was his journey through sexuality, romance and the fast pace lust that he’s experienced as a star during his formative years. Of course his Y/n was a big inspiration on that track, their sexual endeavors prominent in his mind while coming up with the lyrics.

His mind was filled with photographic memories of the times they did various naughty things. The foursome in brazil where they both explored bisexuality, having Harry, Y/n and then another couple join them, the hand full of times they’d had sex in public. In his car, in an alley, in bathroom at the VMA’s. on the roof, in a pool, and even the once Y/n went down on him in his mothers back garden while she ran to the shop.  He thought of the sloppy kisses, the spitting, cum eating, rim jobs and pussy eating. It was all so dirty and god he knew this song would drive people mad. So being the cheeky bastard he is, he made two final decisions about the piece of work right then and there.

1-      It would be an exclusive concert song

2-      He wanted to have some special audio in it

 Harry knew the idea was daring, likely to turn heads and cause mothers of concert goers to place a hand over their heart with a raised eyebrow but this was his music and he never had an issue with controversial art.

The man then looked to his side, seeing his love in her natural state. Relaxed, lips slightly pursed with her eyelashes batting every few seconds as she focused on the screen. Somehow even when she was lying in a lazy position, hair in a messy bun with a small stain from her tea on the bottom of her shirt, she still looked insanely beautiful.

“Love?” y/n shifted her eyes towards her boyfriend when she heard the pet name, turning onto her side to give him her full attention. “What’s up, H?” she rested her chin on her fist, blowing a few stray hairs out of her eyes. “How would you feel about helpin’ me out with this song?”

Harry gave her a bit of a suggestive taunt of his brows, the girl tilting her head slightly. “Sure, what do yeh have in mind, bub?” Y/n was quick to her feet walking towards him to peer down at the notebook full of lyrics, yet her attention was soon focused on the sensation of being tugged into his lap and the feeling of a rather firm lump pressing into her bum. Her head turned to look at her now smirking boyfriend, pursing her lips slightly in question. “Well, the songs a bit alt to what I usually write…going to keep it off the album make it exclusive but I think I want some background audio of us…making love princess.”

To be clear, Y/n wasn’t a prude. She wasn’t shy about her sexuality, she actually felt very empowered by how confident she was about her sex life and Harry found it exceptionally sexy to be with a woman who was open and not shy at all about trying new things, and this was definitely a new one for her to consider.

He gave her a moment to mull it over, seeing her head sway slightly while she weighed the offer before she gave a shrug and a nod to her boyfriend. “Sure, why not? Gonna be music layered on it right? So it’s not full blown balls smacking into ass?” her question made the man snort, nodding his head. “Yup, gonna layer the instrumental over it. Hoping to isolate the vocals of the moaning to mesh into the music then my singing. I think it could sound fuckin’ excellent and well I get to fuck yeh, so I think it’s a win win hmm?” his hands migrated to her tits, giving them a firm squeeze as his lips pressed into the back of her neck. His touches achieved his goal of sending a shiver through his girl, her spine tingling and hips starting to squirm as he sponged open mouth kisses from the nape of her neck to each shoulder.

“Yea…yea lets do it.” Her words were breathier, his touch putting her under his spell instantly. Lust hung in the air while he kept his grip on her his free hand used to turn on the mic in the sound booth before starting the recording and pushing them both in the padded room.

“god, you’re a doll lettin’ me fuck yeh for my track. I love you so much baby..” his words were as rushed as his frantic hands tugging their clothes off. Hers were prying the buttons of his trousers undone while he ridded her of her bra and started on her pants their mouths crashing together in a sloppy, needy dirty kiss. One that left the lower half of their faces shiny and their teeth slightly clenched from knocking them together in the heat of their movements.

“I love you more, jesus Haz, please hurry up need you in me.” Y/n worked on shoving her panties to the side, Harry hoisting her leg up to have her angled just right to sink his cock into. These were the moments he praised whoever invented birth control, nothing beats getting to spontaneously fuck his girl without having to worry about finding a condom.

Gasps, moans and whines filled the booth. The pleasured noises bouncing off the foam glued to the walls, the insulation amplifying their noises as Harry pounded himself inside Y/n relentlessly, his cock forcibly spreading her inner walls stimulating the deepest parts of her making her pour out a river of beautiful moans he couldn’t wait to mesh into the song. He did little to contain his own groans, deciding if they were prominent in the recording he’d match them with the bass so the deep tones complimented each other.

“ ‘m gonna cum”  

The string of words every guy loves to hear from the woman they are pleasuring, it boosts their ego and gives them an extra shot of stamina to push her over the edge satisfying her fully before he lets himself go.

When the tightening of her cunt gripped onto his cock, sucking him in further happened the best moans of the session were let out. Harmonious perfectly pitched moans spilling from her mouth, his joining hers in a duet soon after as his balls gave everything they had inside of her. the pair were a sticky mess, but it didn’t matter to them they both were still in the orgasmic haze complimented with the rush of voyeurism.

“Jesus baby, I think we just secured a grammy.”

[writerwrites]

Little Town Street

Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader

Summary: A college fling with Andy Barber is rekindled when you move back to Boston and you’re both single. 

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Smut 18+, language, tinge of angst, Defending Jacob spoilers / all the warnings that would go along with the series, fleeting mentions of divorce and bad breakups

A/N: *THIS IS A ONE SHOT* This is the Week 3 prompt to the Optimistic Captain Donut Challenge created by @captainchrisbaby, @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho , and @donutloverxo​ || The Week 3 Prompt was based on  All Too Well by Taylor Swift || I’m only 3 months late, minimum || Fall dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Boston. Your heart raced just thinking about getting back to the place you went to college. The glide of the tassel across your cap and the memories of late night conversations over pizza and beer while elbow deep in a tort. You’d loved the smell of law books and the haze of the green lamps on the library’s oversized and ancient oak desks. The magic of that place was lost on you while you were there, as was the magic of the few relationships you managed to establish while getting your law degree. But here you were, the little suburban town just out of the city, boxes piling up in the empty living room as you settled into your newly single life at a small firm that liked your big New York City success. This was a needed change after a painful breakup. This was your clean break.

Covered in sweat with your hair in a messy top bun, tank top slithering up the steep curves of your soft sides while the sun kissed the back of your bronzed skin, you heard a honk at the intersection in front of your house. The unexpected sound jolted you and the heavy box of books slipped from your fingers and landed on your foot. Hopping to the steps of your new brick home, you looked over at the intersection. It was a near-accident that was the cause of the ruckus. Both cars now at a standstill at the center of the four-way intersection. It took a minute for you to process the shock as you rubbed at your aching foot, but there he was, thick brown hair and bright blue eyes looking at you through the windshield of a black Audi A6. Andy Barber.

With such a public court case and the subsequent car accident, every news-viewing American knew who he was and knew a little too much about him. The problem was that while you’d sat in your own office in the Big Apple, trying to put yourself in Andy’s shoes, you watched a person you once knew in a new light and while your now-ex kept bringing up the commentary of obvious guilt, you couldn't help but sympathize with the collapse of his life. It was too easy for you to slip into the heartache of a family stalked and ruined, a person left so completely exposed and judged by everyone that you’d trusted. It was, after all, why you’d left New York. It was a miracle you’d gotten your fresh start, the Barbers certainly didn’t. You could picture it, but you never speculated, never stayed on the channel when the case came on. Every fiber of your being couldn’t look at him, not because of what broadcasters said but because of the too real memories of a love lost.

You were the one that ended the stare-off, your foot aching more with every passing second. Jaw clenched and lips pressed into a line, you were just about to convince yourself that there was no way Andy Barber, your biggest competition in college and your first love, was outside your new home… and then you heard him say your name. God, it always sounded so good coming from his mouth. The last time you’d heard it he was asking you not to go, drunk outside the bar you’d had your first date telling you that what you two had was bigger than the careers ahead. He didn’t see the tears streaming down your face once you turned away to get in your cab. Maybe, after all this time, he thought you didn’t hear him scream your name.

When you opened your eyes Andy was there at the bottom of your driveway on that little town street, brows knit together with concern as he locked his car that was perfectly parked on the steep driveway like he’d done it a million times. “Don’t look so worried about me, Andrew. You’re the one who just nearly crashed a bajillion dollar car.”

He laughed, despite noticing how you’d used his full name like you two were standing on opposite ends of a courtroom- and maybe you were. But that laugh, the warmth of it wrapped you up and you were thrown back through the magic and memories of that romance once more. The plaid shirts you stole in the middle of the night to run to the kitchen for a midnight snack. Your skin was covered in goosebumps despite the heat as you remembered how Andy had peeled you out of his shirts to warm you back up with his skin on yours, the metal of the fridge pressed to your back. Every moment with him was crystal clear in your mind the smells of autumn and taste of cider and beer when your tongues met, the feeling of his beard scratching your thighs, and... It took his hands on your chin to pull you out of the pain and want of those happier days that you’d ignorantly run from scared of settling. “Are you sure the box didn’t land on your pretty little head?”

The sound that passed your lips was practically a damn purr, you mentally cursed him for pulling it out of you with familiar ease. Opening your eyes to look up at him, you wondered if the emotions of that tumultuous relationship sat at the forefront of his mind too and if it was written on your face. “Nope, definitely landed on my foot.” Swallowing at the sandpaper in your throat, you looked at the swollen discolored mess. “You didn’t have to see if I was okay.”

“First, yeah, I did. It’s been fifteen or sixteen years since I’ve seen you. Second, I saw you hop over here clutching your foot. I can’t leave a wounded deer on the side of the road, can I?” His hands were stubbornly placed on his hips and that’s when you noticed the pale indent of a missing wedding band on his left hand’s ring finger. His blue eyes followed your gaze and he rubbed at the spot like he’d not gotten used to the absence of the cool metal. A similar thin, faded line from a discarded engagement ring on your matching finger. “I guess we’ve both been through it.”

Offering him a small smile, he helped you up and as Andy’s strong hands clutched your waist you wondered if he’d remembered just how ticklish the space between your ribs and hip were when he was careful to not touch you there. When you grabbed at the perfectly tailored coat trying to hop around the man let out an amused grumble and scooped you up. “Aren’t we a little old for grand gestures?” Your head rolled back as you laughed and he turned to get you through the door without smacking your injured foot on the frame. “Jesus are you hitting the gym and benching thick girls, Barber?”

The laughter filling the house was only amplified by his unceremonious dropping of you onto the love seat. The crooked smile looking down at you made you melt. That look, it was a drug that you’d had you first taste of in a mock trial, when he knew he’d won his case and looked back at you in the seats behind him, taking notes. “Other than the box on the lawn, are there any more?”

“You don’t have to..”

“But I’m going to and I want to. Besides, you can’t.” Andy was already pulling off his coat, loosening his tie, and buttoning his shirt before you could protest... not that you were capable of it. He bit his lip when he caught sight of you drinking him in. The slacks and the undershirt that clung to him. “Like what you see?”

“It’s rude.” You stated matter of fact, gesturing to all of him. Andy raised his hands as if to apologize, heading to the door to get to work. Closing your eyes, you could perfectly picture that one picture of the two of you at your graduation. Inadvertently, you mumbled to yourself. “I miss looking that damn good.”

If your eyes hadn’t been closed maybe you would’ve seen the way he froze in the doorway, biting his tongue before stepping out. It wasn’t until you heard the hefty thunk of a box on the hardwood floor that you peaked your eyes open. A clear sheen of sweat glistened on his brow and you bit your lip, the heat running over your body was hardly from moving boxes or the summer heat pouring in the front door. “Please tell me the rest of it isn’t boxes of books, Legal Beagle.”

Scoffing at the old nickname you sighed, “Nope, it’s just bottles of wine and liquor and pictures. The remnants that I didn’t want to break or misplace in the moving truck that came a few days ago.”

“You’ve been here for days and you didn’t call.” His tone was surprisingly wounded.

“Well, Legal Eagle, you didn’t exactly shoot me an email either.” Andy’s eyes burned into you when you used his old nickname back, but you couldn’t decipher what that look really meant. Before you could ask or apologize he was turning back out the door, leaving you there to chew the inside of your cheek raw.

Andy made quick work of the boxes in your car while you nursed your bruised foot trying to unravel the feelings bubbling to the surface of your mind in memories and regrets. When the front door shut, you couldn’t even bring yourself to look up, eyes fixed on the bruise while you thought about the emotional bruising you’d caused each other. It wasn’t hard to really know why he hadn’t emailed, nothing funny in the broken pieces you bother were left to pack up and move on from. When had you started crying? Cheeks wet when his hands cupped your face, forcing you to look up at him, thumbs brushing the tears away. “Hey, if it hurts that bad maybe we should take you to get it looked at.”

Reaching up you grabbed Andy’s wrists, but you found yourself hanging there, incapable of pulling him off of you. Instead, your thumbs brushed across the inside of his wrists just applying a little bit of pressure before skimming your hands up the firm muscles of Andy’s forearms. Each of you tried to translate the signals the other was putting off. If it hadn’t been for the haze of being so close to him, maybe you would’ve had the sense to pull away. With a sniffle and apologetic smile you shook your head ‘no’- or at least to the best of your ability when he was still comforting you like no time or pain had passed between the two of you. How long had you been holding on to this first love?

This close you could see it, the little creases of age at the corners of his eyes and a little salt and pepper in his beard. Despite the way those lines seemed to crease his face like words of chapters you’d not been privy to, his blue gaze was unchanged and every welcoming detail of them looked at you like you hadn’t changed either. The moment his knee pressed between your thighs to your core you realized just how needy you were, whimpering and parting your legs as he lowered himself onto you. His hands moved down your neck to your breasts and a firm squeeze and the brush of his thumb over your nipples elicited another breathy moan from your lips. How long had it been since anyone had looked at you like that? How long since you’d gotten off?

“Andy,” The weight of his name on your tongue was dizzying, but the way he said your name back was just as heavy. You pulled his mouth to yours and he parted his lips to wrap around  your bottom lip. His beard scratched at your chin, sending shivers down your body.

Picking your hips up from the couch, you satisfied the ache between your legs on his thigh. Smirking against your lips Andy pressed harder into your core. “You missed me.”

“To the bone,” The confession passed your lips and all you wanted was for him to stay, the thought alone so wholly selfish. Your eyes fluttered open, scared that it had been poison on his own tongue, noticing how he’d pulled away ever so slightly. “That wasn’t fair.”

Though it seemed like a poor apology, Andy was already shaking his head to reassure you that it wasn’t. That quiet, it wasn’t a trait in him you recalled. His hands moved down your frame and he pulled you onto his lap, careful to let you move your legs to straddle him and not hit your foot along the way. “Did you think I wouldn’t care that you were coming back?”

Before you could answer, he stole your air again. Andy’s lips pressed to your neck and he hummed as he tasted the salt on your skin. Then he found the spot he used to always mark, that spot that always seemed to peak just a little out of your favorite courtroom blouse. Gasping, your nails scratched softly at his sides. He took it as a hint and pulled off his undershirt, throwing it at the boxes that had his tie, coat, and button up. “Andrew. I’m trying not to assume anything here but…”

He looked up at you so sweetly that it erased whatever logic you were trying to pull on him with that one dopey smile. “Tell me this isn’t home.”

“I..” Your mouth bobbed open and you looked at him with wide eyes. Did he mean Boston or this moment on his lap like pieces were falling into place since you’d left.

Squeezing your thighs in his palms he repeated the question. “Tell me this isn’t home. Tell me you don’t remember the promise you broke. Tell me those boxes with pictures don’t have the pictures of us all over this town.” Was this a call out? If he hadn’t been looking at you with such heartache you would have looked away. “Maybe I asked for too much and maybe I was just as scared as you were about the future I saw for us… but tell me we didn’t just find our time.”

The tips of your fingers moved up his chest and settled at the sides of his neck, innocently tugging at his beard. Leaning forward you pressed your lips to his forehead and slipped off of his lap though your whole body seemed almost unamused by the cruel neglect of his warmth, your legs staying draped over him and one arm still linked through his. Looking over the boxes you found the stack with the bright blue sharpie, ‘winter clothes’ sprawled across the top as it sat halfway between the bottom of the stairs and the closet by the front door. “Grab that one.”

Andy untangled himself from you with his fingers burning across your skin, reluctantly slipping off the couch to grab the box. When he came back with it you noticed a hesitant look on his face. His eyes moved to his discarded clothes and you sighed and pulled him back to the small couch. “Want to tell me why you’re avoiding my questions?” Ignoring him you peeled the box open and moved a few things out of the way while you pulled out exactly what you knew you needed. “I don’t break over honesty anymo-”

Words seemed to escape him the moment he saw his scarf from the first time he’d gone home with you to meet your family. He didn’t do the meet-the-parents charade and the relationship had been new, but yours had welcomed him in and made him want his own one day. Andy never thought he’d settle with someone else, but that’s exactly what he’d done when you didn’t call, write, visit, or move back… he’d settled. That little trip was a memory he’d revisited often in the torment of waiting for you to come back. The pair of you had spent most of the holiday either studying for exams on your twin sized bed or pouring over old photographs from your childhood. Now you could practically see the memories flooding back as he reached for the scarf and brushed his fingers over the soft fabric.

So, it was your turn for a confession, an apology even. “I remember it all. I miss it all. We may have been young, but we weren’t wrong. No one knew me like you did. No one ever has. We grew up, but you lingered here.” Your fingers combed through his hair and tapped his temple before moving down his body to his sternum, tapping at his pulse, “... and here.” Andy covered your hand in his, drawing your fingers lower to the buckle of his slacks. Your cheeks went red and you nodded a ‘there too’ without being able to form the words.

“Do I get a hundredth chance?” The hope in his eyes was mirrored in your own, your racing heart no longer felt like a warning sign.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” A shaky laugh passed your lips. Andy wrapped his arms around you, tender, before he laughed too, his body shaking against yours. “Oh, this is a prank? Well, damn. That’s embarrassing.”

Andy looked at you and lunging forward, mouths ricocheting in a deep kiss, tongues hungry for the lost time. Only when you came up for air, the pair of you now buried in the couch cushions, did he speak up, “You deserve all the hell I’m going to give you for waiting this long to let me love you.”

“Does that mean you’re going to stay and rub my skin raw with this beard?” Squirming under him, the pair of you frantically reached for every clasp and zipper until there was nothing left between you. His lips moved down your frame and you surprised yourself, pulling him back to your mouth. “You’re staying with me Andy Barber.” Your fingers wrapped around his length and pumped him, brushing the head of his cock against your slit, already dripping. “You’re staying so beard on thighs can wait.” Pressing your mouth back to his as you continued to tease him you whimpered, not even needing to say it but recalling how much he used to love hearing it. “I need you. Don’t make me wait anymore. I need to feel all of you. I miss-”

The begging and pawing, he couldn’t take you slowly, not yet at least. Andy rutted himself into you, growling when your tight wet heat wrapped around him. He buried his forehead into the curve of your neck as he thrust into you over and over, savoring the way you gasped at his every slight movement. Andy worshiped the new softness of your frame and none of this felt like strangers trying to figure out how to get each other off. His thumb brushed back and forth across your swollen clit and, unlike anyone else, you stuttered his name as you got closer, clamping around him, hips bucking off the couch to meet every deep thrust as he slowed his pace to draw this out for both of you.

You loved the look on his face, the way he bit his swollen lips between a million kisses left on your sweaty skin. The way he lost focus when you said his name and how he gently grabbed your chin as you stuttered his name again; so close, so wet for him, so ready to finally get off. Permission, your legs shook and you whined as he kept you right there at the tipping point, building himself up to his own orgasm while he edged you. “Come for me, lover.”

The words were so welcome, just enough to push you over the edge and quickly chased by you begging him, “Stay inside me.” Andy throbbed inside you as you pulsed around his cock, your fingers digging into the meat of his thighs as your orgasm didn’t seem to stop, the room seemingly silent as the echoing thrusts and calling out of names tapered out to the sticky collapse of you both tangled up on the love seat.

Your eyes closed, exhaustion settling in, and Andy watched you breathing. Softly, Andy nuzzled his nose against the top of your head. “If you fall asleep, I’ll fall asleep.”

With a hum you nodded, reaching up to his hand that had settled on your breast, patting it, “Would that be so bad?”

More to himself, voice so low you almost couldn’t hear him. “I can’t lose you again. Can’t lose anyone else.”

“There’s probably a lot we can’t talk about, but this isn’t a dream, Andy.” Pivoting just enough to look at him you held his hand and kissed his chin. “I can’t lose you again either. I already lost a foot.”

There it was, that cheeky little smile. You both sleepy laughed and you watched his body relax. “You almost cost me my car.”

“I couldn’t run away again, even if I wanted to.” Crinkling your nose you smiled, brushing your finger over the smooth part of his skin where the missing ring marked him. He did the same. The scarf hung over the back of the sofa and looked up at him. “I don’t want to, if that wasn’t obvious.”

His blue eyes closed, his smile went soft, and Andy Barber fell asleep in your arms. If someone would have told you that this would have happened when you left New York you would have run back to Boston and spared the pair of you a world of pain. Though you were scared of bridging the gaps caused by the many roads the pair of you had taken to get here, you shut your eyes and smile at the reality that all those roads led home- to him. Like kintsugi everything seemed hopeful, incapable of breaking like the last time, stronger and made beautiful through the healing time of quiet apologies, verbal and physical.

It had been him all along, no denying it. Neither of you would ever have to ask the other to stay again.

All Content Tags: @tom-hlover​

CEvans Content Tags: @void-hoechlin​

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

Boy Band

Well @detective-giggles  and i have have been at it again. Just a little bit of fun 🤭

Warning: Smut

WC: 1439

Enjoy x

You really didn’t know the meaning of love till Rafael Barba came along and it was like all the stars had aligned for the first time ever in your life. Age didn’t cross anyone’s mind, it was nice just to be surrounded by people that were happy for you and wanted you to be happy. You both disclosed quite quickly and Liv was excited that Rafael may actually love someone more than coffee and scotch. Rafael had taken you home to Lucia and Catalina not long after he asked you out and it was at the point that he met your family before he asked if you wanted to move in with him to start the next step of your relationship. The drive to Connecticut was peaceful and filled with sightseeing, old music, storytelling and laughs. Rafael had every intention this trip to have a chat with your Dad about his intentions with you and hopefully have his blessing.

The day had gone well, you and Rafael were excited for the rest of the family to come for Easter so he could meet them all. Your parents welcome Rafael with open arms and while your Mum ask you to help make night caps before bed, Rafael finally got a moment to have a chat with your Dad one on one,

“So Rafael I hope that this isn’t some fling if Y/N has brought you here. I quite like you but if you hurt her my opinion of you may change dramatically”

Rafael shock is head sitting up straight in his chair,

“No Mr Y/L/N I adore her, I’ am actually in love with her. I would like to have a future with her. I want to move in with her and eventually make it official”

“You want to marry our daughter?” Your Dad raised an eye brow at him.

“Eventually yes”  

“Don’t hurt her Rafael”

The rest of the night had gone smoothly, quite well really and while you were in the kitchen with your mum helping clean up after she had made the Fireside Rum Toddies, Rafael had gone upstairs to shower and answer some work emails in bed. You kissed your Mum good night and then your Dad making your way upstairs to your bedroom.

Your room was just how you left it, your baby sitters club books filling your book shelves, your bright pink blow up bubble couch and bean bag in the corner and your walls and roof above your bed covered in 90’s Boy Band poster and a huge Saved by the Bell poster of Slater and Zack above your bed. Rafael was in the middle of a call so you walked in grabbing your nightie from your bag and walking to the shower to freshen up and get ready for bed.

As you walked back into the bed room to Rafael sitting up leaning against the head board and you saw him scan the trophy’s on the shelf next to your book case as you closed the door locking it behind you,

“Did your chess club know how flexible you were mi Amor?”

“Did your Harvard class know what a smart ass you were?” you raised an eye brow at him with a smirk as you crawled onto the bed and Rafael chuckled.

“They always knew I had a quick tongue- mi Amor come on not now” Rafael sighed as you moved up the bed to straddle his thigh “Your parents are just up the hall- and after last night I thought it would have got you through the weekend” Rafael raised his eye brows at you.

“Come on Rafi, we can be quite” you purred grinding your hips down on his thigh.

“No we can’t and you know it” You pouted at him and rubbed his crotch with you knee and he groaned his hands going straight to your hips.

You reached down to the hem of your nightie pulling it up over your head and throwing it at the end on the bed leaving you naked. A low growl rattled through his chest and you started to roll your hips over Rafael’s flannel clad thigh. The friction on your harden pearl making your jaw go slack.

“You’re such a naughty girl” Rafael said just above a whisper as he watched your head drop forward biting your lip and looking up at him through your lashes nodding.

Rafael could feel your wet seeping through his sleeping pants and he reached up to cup your breasts twisting your nipples as you rolled your hips down on him harder and deeper. Rafael could feel his thigh getting wetter, your breathing deeper and your hips moving fast,

“Come quietly mi Amor and I promise as soon as we get back I’ll fuck you anyway you want me too”

Your body filled with unbelievable pleasure, your forehead landing on Rafael’s shoulder whimpering so softly Rafael could hardly hear you, your hips rolling feverishly on his thigh. You slowed your hip rolls after you came down from your high and took in a deep breath. Rafael reached up and cupped your cheek kissing you deeply groaning into your mouth when he felt your knee grind against his rock hard cock,

“Did you like watching that Rafi?” you cooed running your hand down to his crotch cupping him through his pants.

“Si” Rafael groaned looking up at you through hooded eyes.

“Want me to fix that for you?” Your hand slipped into his pants and boxers wrapping your hand around him pulling him out, his tip covered in pre-come. You started to stroke him up and down and he nodded “Be a good boy and come quietly and you can fuck me anyway you want when we get home” you echoed his words from before.

Rafael grabbed onto your ass cheeks in a bruising grip as you ran your hand up and down his hard length, his pre-come spreading over your hand. You arched your back into him and he groaned slightly when he felt your hard nipples through his t shirt and you lent in close to his ear,

“Such a big delicious cock Rafi”

Rafael whimpered and started to buck up into your hand, his moving to your hips.

“And its all mine. I’ am so lucky to have this big cock whenever I want”

Rafael groaned slightly and grabbed onto your hips tighter biting his bottom lip. Your hand was gliding up and down his long hard member and you felt his thigh muscles twitching signalling he was close.

“Does that make you feel good Rafael? My hand around your cock?” You purred into his ear.

You could see the beads of sweat on his forehead, his jaw slack and his eyes closed bucking up into your hand moaning slightly, the soft noises leaving his lips going straight to your core.

“Me gusta hacerte sentir bien, pero apuesto a que deseaste follarme, verdad Papi” (I like making you feel good, but I bet you wished you were fucking me, right Daddy)

Rafael stiffened and you lent down quickly slipping his tip into your mouth as his hot milky cum squirted into your mouth coating your tongue and rolling down your throat, not spilling a drop on him or you. Rafael’s hand moved to the back of your head holding it in place till he had come down from his high falling back on the head board breathing heavy. You pulled off with a pop and licked your lips dry grabbing your nightie slipping it on and moving to sit next to him as he tucked himself away,

“You speak Spanish now?” Rafael raised an eye brow at you.

“Nick gave me a crash course on dirty talk” you winked and shrugged your shoulders at him.

“You’ve done that in here before haven’t you?” Rafael chuckled leaning over to peak your lips.

“I have-a very long time ago. You didn’t enjoy it? You loved it when I called you Papi” you started to kiss along Rafael’s jaw.

“Oh mi Amor I did- especially that”

“I’ am glad. Although, you’re the first man I’ve had in here that I didn’t wish was one of them” You nodded towards the posters on the wall. Rafael giggled and moved to lay down with you in his arms.

“Well I’ am glad” Rafael kissed the top of your head “You don’t need some boy to fuck you good when you have a man that does a better job.”

You giggled rolling over to rest a leg over Rafael

“I love you Rafi”

“Love you to mi Amor.”

Tags: @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @the-baby-bookworm @dianilaws @scarletsoldierrr @permanentlydizzy @averyhotchner @lv7867 @infiniteoddball​

[itsmeevie01]

A Moment in Time-Ch 5

I'm back! lots of things to come, and a slightly longer, Tim centered, chapter! and...the build-up to the Timari subplot! 

Yay!

 I know that is what everyone is actually here for lol.

Tim was tired of looking for Jason.

He wasn’t at any of his normal safe houses, and none of his usual contacts had heard from him in the last few weeks. Three weeks after the ridiculous scandal had broken, the press had all but forgotten Tim for the time being. As he ducked through alleyways, the teen couldn’t help but be thankful as he climbed back on his bike and sped back towards Wayne Manor.

He was done waiting for his brother to show up. There was something sketchy going on in their city, and if Jason wasn’t going to show up, then it was no longer his concern.

When he got home, Tim found Bruce waiting for him in the study looking over the side gardens. The older C.E.O.’s face was grim.

When Tim approached the desk, Bruce handed him a stack of papers. As Tim started to page through them, he had a flashback to when Jared Stone had brought the pile of tabloids.

As he flipped through the new stack, Tim realized that it was Jason’s credit card statement. And-was that…? “did he buy a ticket for Paris? Why didn’t we get notified about his passport passing through customs? Why is Jason in France of all places?” when he looks back at his adoptive father, the man’s face was grim.

“I don’t know, Tim. But we sure as hell are going to find out. Go to his apartment. I know you have a key. We need to see if he left anything out from before he left.” Bruce paused before adding, “he’s been gone for two weeks. There has to be a reason.” Tim nodded as he moved to stride from the room before Alfred spoke, shocking both Bruce and Tim.

“Maser Bruce, did you by chance call Master Jason? Last I remember, his cell phone was still working.” The father and son froze, before turning to the family Butler, slack-jawed.

“We really are stupid.”

 Damian didn’t see anything wrong with Todd being gone. It was quieter around the Manor and it meant that the 13-year-old was allowed to patrol through Crime Alley by himself, something none of his predecessors had been able to do at his age.

As the young teen flew over the city, his mind raced. He found this the most relaxing part of his time with his father.

At the manor, there was always something going on and there was always someone looking over his shoulder. Here, as he went rooftop to rooftop, arching over this city, the boy was able to finally find some peace.

A sound over his earpiece broke Robin from his quiet elation. “Robin, how are you doing? Is everything clear?” oracle’s voice filtered through, bringing him to relax. Oracle he could handle.

“it’s a regular night, Oracle. A few of the regulars. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“perfect. Finish up and head back, B wants you back before 2 because you have school tomorrow.”

The annoyed “Tch” that came down the line made the redhead laugh from where she sat at the computer.

 Tim had texted Jason before he had left for patrol. When he got back, there was a response waiting for him.

Jason: in Paris. I’ll be back soonish

Tim: Jay, what’s soonish?

Tim: there’s a situation we need your help with.

Jason: kid, I'll be back when I can.

Jason: if B cares, tell him Gina kidnapped me. I’m staying with her right now.

Jason: otherwise, just wait. It's personal business.

Tim: Jay, we are your family. Doesn’t that make it our business too?

Jason: in this case, no. fuck off, replacement

Tim: See you when you get back Jay

 The teen sighed. It was just like Jason to try and handle everything himself. This time, Tim couldn’t play interference either, he was stuck across an ocean. He just hoped this Gina person wasn’t as impulsive as his older brother. If she was, they would all be in trouble.

 As he made his way to his room, having showered and gotten himself ready for the next day, Tim paused by his desk.

He had taken the time to compile a file on the girl from a few weeks ago but hadn’t read it yet. He knew that if he was to read it, it would be violating her privacy, but he did that every day, so was this any different? To Tim, the only difference was that this girl wasn’t someone to watch or take in. she was just a normal girl with a normal life, who had run into him for a split second.

It wasn’t like he was going to meet her, right?

The teen shook his head and flopped onto his bed. It wasn’t worth it tonight. He could have the moral debate with himself when he was properly rested.

 Maybe he should have called in sick. Tim was definitely finding a way to leave early, as he looked at the list of meetings that he had been scheduled for.

Why had he agreed to this again? He could have sworn that he had told his assistant that Wednesday was his day to go home and work on his college classes. Instead, Tim had a feeling that he was going to be at the office late.

On his off night too.

 Partway through the day, he noticed an email that he didn’t recognize in his personal inbox. The inbox that he probably shouldn’t have been checking on the company computer but…

After a moment of hesitation, the young C.E.O. had clicked on the new email and blinked at what pulled up.

  From: Mari_Beri2001@gmail.com

To: timdrakeeeee99@gmail.com

Mr. Drake,

My name is Marinette Dupain Cheng. I believe that we ran into each other quite literally a month and a half ago, approximately. As I am sure that you have at least seen the fictitious stories floating through the media, I assume that you are aware of the interaction that I am referring to.

Originally, I had no intention of reaching out, but a friend of mine encouraged me to reach out. (had actually was the one to give me your email. Does the name Jason Todd ring a bell?) I do hope that this whole press fiasco hasn’t hindered you too terribly.

Kindest Regards,

Marinette Dupain Cheng

 Tim blinked once before rereading the short email that the girl had sent. No. no way. She knew Jason? And what did she mean, Jason was the one to encourage her to reach out? Opening up a new draft, Tim hesitated before flicking his wrists to rid himself of tension and trying his reply.

 From: timdrakeeeee99@gmail.com

To: Mari_Beri2001@gmail.com

Miss Dupain Cheng,

I was surprised to receive your email, but it seems that it came at a fortunate time. Yes, I do know Jason Todd. I know him quite well, actually. He and I were adopted by the same man, Bruce Wayne. If you don’t mind me asking, how did you meet my brother?

I must apologize, for the whole scandal from last month. I know that neither of us were directly responsible, but I do feel bad for any trouble it may have caused you. If it is not too much of an intrusion, I might also ask, how were you able to respond so quickly? The only reason I knew about the incident was Bruce’s old friend Jared. The man came into my office in a fit about the nerve of the photographer.

(if you ever meet the man, you will understand what I mean when I say that he never does things halfway. He had picked up a copy of every magazine or tabloid that ran a story about it. When he came in, he actually brought his crocodile as well. Fang scared the lobby staff more than anything has for the past bit, I believe.)

I hope this finds you well,

Timothy Drake Wayne

 After reading through his email one more time to make sure it sounded professional enough, Tim hit the send button and let out a deep breath that he didn’t know he had been holding. He didn’t know why, but he had a feeling that this was the start of something important.

Suddenly, Tim was very glad he hadn’t read the girl’s file.

 As he was preparing to head to yet another meeting later that afternoon, Tim glanced at his personal email again. To his surprise, the teen was met with another email from the French girl.

 From: Mari_Beri2001@gmail.com

To: timdrakeeeee99@gmail.com

Mr. Drake (or is it Drake Wayne?)

Jason was sitting next to me when I opened your last email. Imagine my surprise when he panicked. Apparently, he had decided against informing any of his family of his departure. I must say, his reaction was quite entertaining.

Onto your question from your email, Penny Rolling, a good friend of mine, dropped off a box full of the tabloid trash that her husband, Jagged had shipped to her as soon as she got it. After my initial reaction, the two of us got a good laugh out of the whole situation. Especially when we heard that Jagged tried to bring Fang into your office! I guess to you, he would be Jared, but to me, he will always be my Uncle Jagged.

In other news, I thought it would be polite to pass on that Jason will be returning in the next few days. He has been fretting over a family emergency, not that he will tell me what it is but, there is only so much I can do. However, I thought it might be prudent to forewarn you that he will be bringing my grandmother back with him. Nona said it was something to do with one of his ‘side hustles’. Knowing those two, however, makes me think that Jason has gotten himself into something significantly illegal this time.

No need to apologize for something that neither of us could control! You did not ask for the photographer to take that ridiculous photo, nor did you ask for the fiction writers who work for the tabloids to write a piece of the photo. That said, I do feel that it has opened many new avenues. I know that Jason and I reconnected because of the photo, and it has given my lawyers something to focus on while we wait on proceedings for other matters.

Have a good day,

Marinette Dupain Cheng

 Jason was coming home sooner than he planned. It seemed like Tim’s text had actually gotten through to his older brother.

With a sigh, he marked the email as important so that he would remember to respond to it before he started on his homework.

The teen C.E.O. snagged his thermos of coffee on the way out the door, he had a meeting to go to.

And...there it is! this week I'm going to try and work out my posting schedule. what did everyone think of the emails?

  i know that there are a lot more people in the Wayne/bat family, so I'm going to work them in a little bit at a time. as far as Dick Grayson is concerned, btw he knows about the scandal but not about Jason's sister or that he's not in Gotham.

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