#so much eyebrow pencil on your face when you never wear makeup is a problem

[dazzling-nishi]

was Miguel from Road to El Dorado for the Halloween party I went to last Thursday, and won the costume contest with it!

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

calculated iii, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You wanted to say that you were able to control yourself around him and not to have wild sex at school. But this is Jeon Jungkook we’re talking about. And what Jungkook wants, Jungkook gets. You wore that pencil skirt for a reason, after all.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; intense smut (fem reader, semi-public sex, dirty talk, nipple play, choking, m-receiving oral, gagging, pussy spanking, fingering, penetrative sex); fluff; non-idol!AU - university!AU; dom!Jungkook x sub!noona!reader, ft Jimin once again, lol

–

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

-

Career Week was somewhat of a nightmare.

So much running around, prepping tables, setting up presentations, helping the guests with their computers before their seminars, and you had to be dressed professionally too. Not just ‘nice’ clothes, but white dress shirt, slim black tie, tailored black vest, and matching fitted black slacks. It had to be monotone, it had to be hyper professional, and you had to wear heels.

Why had you agreed to this again?

Oh, yes, Kim Namjoon on his knees begging for help because he was overworked and they needed volunteers. And you, being far too responsible, accepted.

Not only were you also overworked, but Jeon Jungkook was staring at you across the auditorium.

In all-black – leather jacket, high-necked shirt, slim-fit jeans. Sharp jawline, tanned high cheekbones, piercing dark brown eyes, his black hair pushed back with a few strands on his forehead, revealing his clean undercut.

And he was smirking at you.

You highly doubted he was here to investigate prospective career paths. Actually, you were a hundred-and-ten percent positive that that was not the reason he was here and the soreness between your inner thighs proved it. You were willing to bet Park Jimin’s right nutsack.

Yeah, sorry Jimin, but you needed all your body parts.

For one reason, really, and that reason was staring you right now.

Who was going to hire him when he was dressed like that anyway? You certainly wouldn’t. Mostly because it was distracting. No one could work with Jeon Jungkook looking like that. You couldn’t, anyway. Well, maybe if his work was wrecking your–

Get back to your damn task, you scolded yourself.

You were setting up chairs for the cardiologist that was arriving soon. All the doctors always had tons of students listening, so the administration instructed you to pack as many seats that could be crammed into the space without causing a fire hazard. You unfolded the metal chairs, arranging them neatly, already knowing they would be an incomprehensible mess when the students left and that you would be the one cleaning up after them.

Sigh.

Come to think of it, it was all Park Jimin’s fault that you were being violently undressed by Jungkook’s eyes right now. If he had kept his trap shut and let you live in blissful ignorance, maybe you wouldn’t be trying to hide your wincing every time you bent over. You snuck a glance at Jungkook.

He cocked an eyebrow, highly amused.

Never mind, you probably still would have been accosted at Calculus I office hours, except instead of the door being closed and locked and having Jimin’s warning texts, you two probably would have been caught and expelled.

You grumbled and slid a chair into place, taking back your former thoughts and thanking Jimin in your mind. He wasn’t even here to witness your inner struggle.

Jimin probably would have found it funny.

You went back to your chairs, not addressing Jeon Jungkook’s presence anymore because if you looked at him again, you probably would have abandoned your post. And he knew it.

-

The next day, you already knew Jungkook would show up again. Mostly because he texted you a winking face of a semicolon and parenthesis, to which you didn’t respond, because you would probably get roped into phone sex in under twenty seconds, and you had to help this extremely riveting lawyer set up his laptop for the projector.

As in, you were ready to tape his mouth shut as he blabbed on and on about his work and how important it was to society, which it was, because defense attorneys were very important, but this guy’s laptop was a fucking hot mess of icons all over his desktop. This was a personal pet peeve of yours, as you liked to be neat and organized, with everything clearly labeled with dates. You didn’t care about most people’s personal habits, but it was annoying when you were trying to assist and the owner of said laptop was not shutting up and demanding noises of affirmation that you were listening.

If it wasn’t Jungkook demanding you to swallow his cock, you honestly couldn’t give a single shit–

You finally got his PowerPoint working and had him scroll through the slides to make sure it was the correct one. He thanked you and you realized the older man was looking at you up and down, the same way Jungkook usually did, except in this case you were not even remotely interested.

Guess everyone had the right to get a good look before they die.

You were wearing a white chiffon blouse with a black silk neck scarf, with a tight knee-length black pencil skirt, sheer tights and sleek black heels. You knew how good your ass looked in this skirt and you had worn it for a specific purpose.

“We will be letting the students in five minutes early to get settled,” you stated briskly, cutting the older man from his daydreams. “You will have forty-five minutes for your presentation, and then we’ll have a fifteen-minute question session, led by my associate, Kim Namjoon here.”

As if on cue, Namjoon appeared, cheerful smile with cute dimples, handing the lawyer a mic.

“Let’s test the microphone and the backup to make sure you don’t have any hiccups,” Namjoon instructed merrily, instantly captivating the man’s attention and diverting it from you.

You mouthed a ‘thank you’ behind the man’s back and Namjoon gave you the tiniest of nods as you excused yourself. Hmph. You knew people would notice – you were wearing makeup for once and would be around students and professionals all day, after all – but to be so shameless and gawk like that was annoying. Plus, the guy probably had a wife and kids.

You made your way to the bathroom to check your appearance. Maybe your makeup was a bit off or something. You had Jimin check you over this morning. Surprisingly, he knew a lot about cosmetics and how to look good in all lighting. Must be a dance major thing.

Ah, the door to the women’s bathroom. You hiked your skirt up a bit do you could use your damn knees to walk, because they had been suffocating for the past two hours–

Long fingers suddenly gripped your upper arm and yanked you around the corner, slamming you into a muscular body and black biker jacket. You nearly stumbled in your heels, but a second hand came to practically lift you off the floor and shove you into the wall.

“Good afternoon, noona.”

A clear, silvery voice.

You couldn’t possibly guess who it was.

“Why, fancy seeing you here, Jung–”

You were abruptly cut off by his lips crashing into yours, one hand grabbing the back of your head and disturbing your perfect bun. You whimpered, feeling him shove you into the wall again, your shoulder blades hitting the painted brick. His tongue slid into your mouth, exhaling into your throat and forcing you swallow his breath. Your hands clutched your skirt, moaning as his hard body pressed yours against the wall.

Jungkook drew back, panting a little. Looking so handsome with his slightly slicked-back hair, black strands around his right eye, chiseled jawline, silver hoops glinting in the hall light. He arched a sculpted eyebrow at you, smirking. His pink lips had a little red on them from kissing you.

“Now, you know you can’t be looking so delicious and not expect me to want to eat you up,” he purred, licking your lips. Your breathing hitched at the touch, unlocking your death grip on your skirt.

“What are you talking about?” you answered evenly despite your panties literally turning into Niagara Falls with the way he was looking at you like a carnivore at an all-meat buffet. “I have to dress like this for Career Week. Everyone has to dress professionally.”

Jungkook nodded, not believing a single word coming out of your mouth. His right hand came up, ink black tattoos against tan skin, and reached around to your bun, slowly pulling the hairpins out. Your skin tingled at the sensation of your hair gradually unravelling.

“A professional that I would hire to sit on my dick,” he mused.

You raised an eyebrow at him, your hair tumbling around your shoulders. “Subtle.”

Jungkook showed you the removed hairpins, opened his jacket, and tucked them in his inner pocket.

“I wouldn’t work for you anyway,” you added haughtily.

With each passing moment, Jungkook was becoming increasingly amused and aroused. You could tell by the way he was shoving his crotch into your thigh and by how wide his smirk was getting. The slacks he was wearing did nothing to hide his erection and you had a sneaking suspicion that he didn’t care.

“Oh? Why not?”

“I don’t know if I could trust someone younger than me to do a good job.”

He was unbuttoning your chiffon blouse now, humming. “I’m good at many things.” His dark eyes flickered to yours. “I think you would know.”

Your hands grabbed his despite him already having all the visible buttons completely open. Cold air drifted onto your heaving chest and white lace bra.

“Jungkook, we’re in a public place, again,” you hissed, narrowing your eyes at him.

“I don’t recall that being a problem,” he drawled, removing his hands from yours and squeezing your ass. “I’m beginning to think you like it.”

You sucked in a breath as his strong hands kneaded you through your skirt. Your hormones would absolutely let Jungkook rip off your clothes right here and let him fuck you, but the sliver of your brain that had any sense at all reminded you that you had to find a closed space. Jungkook slapped your ass, loudly, the sound echoing across the empty hallway. You nearly moaned, but bit your tongue, glaring at him.

“I have to get back,” you snapped. “And look presentable.”

Jungkook licked his teeth. “Hm. You have an hour before you have to appear to the public eye.”

Who the heck told him that? He smirked slyly at you as he saw your reaction.

“I could drag you to the bathroom–”

“At least give me more class than the woman’s bathroom,” you interrupted.

Jungkook looked annoyed that you had cut him off and also looked like he was going to remind you later. His fingers dug into your hips sharply and you gasped, back pressed flat against the wall. He inhaled a deep breath and began again, voice dangerously low.

“As I was saying,” he continued. “I’m going to take you into this classroom that I stole the key for.”

You frowned as Jungkook hoisted you up swiftly, princess-style, shirt still wide open. Fuck, what was he so strong for? He carried you down the hallway to the classrooms. You tried to close your shirt, but he growled at you, so you rolled your eyes and pushed the sides open, letting your bra-covered tits hang out. He seemed satisfied about this.

“Why would you steal a key?” you muttered as he deftly kicked the door open.

Jungkook slid through the door sideways. “So I could fuck you, of course.”

He dropped you and you had to catch yourself on your heels before you broke an ankle and ate shit. Half the lights turned on. You could hear him locking the door as you smoothed your skirt.

You turned to face him, saying, “You shouldn’t be a thief just because you’re horny, Jungkook.”

Jungkook turned around slowly from the now locked door. You were about to say something else, but your words died in your throat as you witnessed the overwhelming lust in his dark piercing eyes.

“I would be a thief, a murderer, and evade taxes for your body,” he snarled, advancing on you.

You pulled your blouse out of your skirt so he wouldn’t rip it, backing up into the desks. “You’ll get caught with the last one,” you said quietly, already removing your blouse and letting it fall onto a spare seat. “First two are acceptable.”

Jungkook grinned devilishly, licking his pink lips.

“Come here.”

You chewed on your lower lip, staring at his beautiful eyes, finding yourself already walking to him, heels clicking loudly in the empty room, but it didn’t matter, because he was the master now and you were the willing servant. Or slave. 

Take your pick.

He smirked at your obedience, placing his hands on your shoulders, stopping you. His dark orbs lingered down your body, focusing on all his favorite spots, pressing his fingertips into your skin.

“One day,” you said quietly. “We’re going to get in trouble.”

Jungkook’s powerful dark orbs shifted upwards, capturing yours. Time slowed down. You stared into his dark brown eyes, unable to look away, your heart beating in time with his words.

“You’re already in trouble.”

Voice haunting you, teasing smirk on his lips, and perfectly in command.

“From the second you let me have my hands on you.”

You gasped as his nails dug into your skin, scratching down your collarbones, leaving red marks. He snapped the straps of your bra, hard, and you whined, eyes pleading for him to take it off. His palms pressed into the lace cups, squeezing them roughly. Tongue dancing in between his lips as he felt your nipples harden, barely covered by the lace.

“You’re so dirty, noona,” he purred, lowering his palms and pinching your nipples through the thin fabric, smirking at your wanton moan. “Wearing such slutty underwear under these professional clothes.”

You whimpered as he tugged on them. “No one’s going to see them but you, Jungkook.”

He clamped your nipples between his thumbs and knuckles, dragging you to him. You sank your teeth into your lower lip, pussy throbbing as you collided with his firm chest. His breath was scorching hot against your skin, making you shiver.

“What if someone finds out? Some idiot like a perverted old man staring at your ass in this skirt?”

You snorted. “I’ll rip his head off.”

Jungkook snickered, flicking your nipples with your answer. “You wouldn’t let me do it for you?”

Your hips rolled into his, hands on his waist to keep yourself up as he played with you. “I’ll reattach it for you so you can do the same.”

He laughed, almost a little too jovially for the part he was playing, but then he was back, tipping his head close to yours, blowing soft air onto your lips. You frowned, glaring at him for the lack of kiss.

“If possible, you’re even hotter dressed like this,” Jungkook murmured, his forehead against yours. “So prim and proper, even with a cute gag tied around your neck,” he added, playing with the ends of your neck scarf. “You could be a CEO, and I could be the janitor fucking you on your penthouse-floor desk.” He was undoing your scarf now, teasing it apart, making you breathless. “Maybe fuck you against the window so everyone can see how good I make you feel, noona.”

“Give yourself a little more credit than a janitor,” you muttered, stiffening as Jungkook ran his fingertips over your throat, nails grazing your skin.

“True, I would rather be your secretary so I can follow you around and stare at your ass in this skirt,” he chuckled, lacing his fingers around your neck. Thumb under your ear, the other four fingers under your other ear. You made eye contact with him. He looked almost bored, one of his eyebrows raised, but he was watching you, predatory and attentive.

“I know what I’m doing.”

His whisper was so soft that you barely heard it, but the words were there.

His grip tightened around your throat.

You gasped, feeling the blood flow thinning, hazing your mind. Jungkook watched your expression, reaching around with the hand that was holding your scarf, unclasping your lace bra. You could feel it fall down your arms, but your thoughts were rapidly being clouded by lightheadedness and lust, Jungkook smirking at you as he lifted the silk scarf into your vision.

“J… Jungkook…” you choked out.

The mole underneath his lower lip winked at you as he grinned, brushing the silk against your hard, abused nipples, touch so light, and yet it made your whine, wanting more stimulation but unable to ask because you knew he was toying with you.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook taunted. “Not intense enough for my naughty noona?”

He choked you harder and you couldn’t respond, eyes rolling back into your head as black spots danced in your vision, the sensation intensifying but still not enough, not enough, and you shoved your hips into his repeatedly, whimpering, hands clutching his black shirt, nails digging into his abs.

“So needy for me,” he breathed, feathery touches of silk against your nipples. “Are you only mine?”

He leaned forward, loosening his grip a little. The blood violently rushed back into your head and all you could hear Jungkook’s cruel whisper of your name, tearing a moan from your lips, a raspy yes, yes, fuck, Jungkook, I’m only yours.

He chuckled darkly.

Then he forced you to your knees, tits bouncing uncomfortably as you slid on your heels, knees hitting the tile floor. You clutched his clothed legs, panting, brain only half-functioning due to the lack of blood and the relentless teasing. You lifted your head back up to look at him, panting hard.

Jungkook cracked his neck sharply, a harsh pop. “I want to believe you, noona, but you’re dressed so fucking sexy that I can’t.” His dark eyes bore into you, tearing you up, and you were dripping onto your inner thighs. He emphasized his words with a raise of his eyebrow.

“Letting other people fantasize about this body that belongs to me isn’t acceptable.”

His hands reached down, fingers of his right hand playing with the button of his pants, tattoos dancing with his movement. He smirked as you watched him, eyes darting from his face to his hands. Shit, you were nearly drooling with anticipation. You swallowed as he teased the button free.

“You gonna show me that you remember who you belong to?”

You nodded quickly, maybe too quickly, but it was doomed now anyway because Jungkook was lowering the zipper, pushing down his pants and underwear, past his muscular thighs. It was obvious this was getting him off as much as it was getting you off, because he was rock-hard, leaking, tip already a dark red. Jungkook grabbed the back of your head and shoved his hips into your cheek, smearing his pre-cum onto your skin, all the way up to your cheekbone. He hissed, using his hand to press the head against your temple, nearly into your hair.

Fuck, he was so fucking close to your mouth, but he wasn’t letting you have it.

Damnnit.

Your tongue snaked out and softly licked his balls, eyes on his face, watching him tip his head back and moan. You licked more, creeping your head closer, pressing your lips against his hot skin. He was letting you do it, holding his cock out of the way as you wrapped your lips around his balls and sucked, pushing them around with your tongue, pleading noises in your throat, begging him for his cock as you bobbed your head up and down under his hips.

Jungkook’s dark eyes shifted down to you, triumphant grin on his lips.

“You want to swallow my cock, noona?” he teased, smacking it against your face, leaving a string of pre-cum connecting your cheek to his cock. You narrowed your eyes at him, as if to say, no fucking shit, you punk ass bitch, and he chuckled deep in his chest. He looked past your head, down your back.

“Such a nice ass.”

You smacked his leg, aware that he was doing it on purpose to piss you off. He smirked knowingly, placing his palm on your forehead and pushing you off his balls.

“Swallow it all and don’t choke,” Jungkook snarled, shoving his cock into your open mouth.

Your eyes widened at the sudden intrusion, relaxing your throat muscles as Jungkook forcefully pushed into your lips, sighing with satisfaction as he buried himself to the hilt, his strong fingers tangled in your hair.

“Fuck, so good,” he moaned, making his cock throb into the roof of your mouth. You whined, hands on his hips, waiting for him to let you move. “Your throat feels so fucking good, noona. If only they knew how good you are, how perfectly slutty you are for me.” He snickered, releasing his hand, glaring down into your eyes.

“But they’re never going to know, because you’ll never service another cock ever again.”

You whimpered, nails digging into his thighs.

He ticked his chin at you. “Go on, noona. Show me how much you love my cock.”

You began to move, pressing your tongue against the bottom as you slid up and down his length, moaning at his taste. So good. You generated more saliva and ran it all over the head, sucking hard. He inhaled sharply as you teased the sensitive underside, tongue against the opening.

“That’s it,” Jungkook breathed. “Give it to me like you mean it.”

You gripped his thighs and began to bob your head back and forth, ramming the head into the back of your throat and squeezing it before arching your neck so it ran across the roof of your mouth and then back down so it hit your throat again. Was this going to make you hoarse? Probably, but you didn’t a single shit, because Jungkook moaning for you and telling you how good you were was much more important. The pace was slow at first, but you went faster and faster, tighter, your breasts bouncing with every movement, eyes closed to savor his taste and steel your concentration of not gagging because Jungkook was so big, so thick, so perfectly rough, and your tongue could feel him throbbing inside your mouth.

“Fuck,” he growled above you, nearly feral with desire. “Fuck, I’m going to cum down that perfect throat of yours, noona.”

His thighs tensed under your hands and you knew he was close. You increased the intensity, neck straining, already aching with how fast you were going.

“Drink it all and don’t fucking waste it.”

Jungkook grabbed you by your hair and thrusted his hips into your face, moaning lustfully as he shot into your mouth, hot creamy strings into your throat. You swallowed fast to avoid choking, gulping loudly as he gave you more, more, fuck it was so delicious that you gasped, swirling your tongue around his jerking cock and lapping it all up. Whimpering, you wrapped your lips around the head and milked it dry, rubbing your lips against the skin where the head and length connected.

“You’re so fucking good,” Jungkook sighed, running his fingers through your hair, pulling it away from your face. “So messy and dirty. I love it, noona.” He pressed your mouth down his entire length and held you there.

Your name drifted out of his lips, a sweet exhale.

He kept you there. You felt some of your spit drip down your chin and hit your breasts. You flinched at the coldness, still holding onto his hips. Jungkook finally looked down at you, chest heaving, panting. He looked like he wanted to say something. You shot him a questioning look, unable to respond, mouth still full of his cock.

He released your head, untangling his fingers from your hair. You drew your mouth back, rubbing your jaw and throat a little. Jungkook had a strange expression, lips parted, brows furrowed, the muscles in his neck tensed. He seemed a bit spaced out. You tilted your head.

Something felt off.

You stood up with as much grace as you could, knees aching, heels snapping to the tile floor. He still wasn’t looking at you. You backed up, to the desks, finding a study one.

“Jungkook.”

You smacked the wood loudly with your flat palm.

He whipped his head towards you, dark eyes flashing. Perfect. You smirked, placing your hands on your pencil skirt. Sank your fingers in, gripping the fabric. Jungkook’s voracious eyes watched your movement, each hike revealing more and more of your legs. A slow smirk formed on his lips. You yanked your skirt all the way up to your waist, revealing your white lace panties and sheer pantyhose, black fabric bunched around your waist.

Jungkook reached down and pulled his pants up, raising his eyebrows as he walked over, lower lip in between his teeth as he grinned at you.

“That’s a dangerous position to be in, noona,” he purred. “You know I love fucking you on a desk.”

You bounced your ass up onto the table, closing your legs, knees together. Placed your hands on your lap, pushing your tits together. Jungkook licked his lips, the predatory glint back in his eye. You kept your tone stern, with a hint if disapproval.

“Really? Because for a second there, I was beginning to think you lost your nerve.”

The menace in his eyes made your shiver with anticipation. You could tell Jungkook liked it too, your word selection, your tone, your defiance. He shrugged out of his leather jacket, and it fell to the floor with an oppressive thump. You sucked in a tight breath. The shirt was short sleeved, exposing his tattooed right forearm and his equally beautiful tanned left one. Some of his long black hair was falling down, brushing against his right cheekbone.

His eyes were so dark that you felt like they were devouring you.

Jungkook placed his large hands on your knees and vehemently shoved them apart, spreading your legs wide. He gave you a cold, expressionless stare as he placed a hand on your stomach, putting you onto your elbows, hips tipped up towards him. You were embarrassingly wet, juices soaked into your inner thighs, lace panties already molded to your soaked folds, the sheer pantyhose doing nothing to protect you from him and his hungry eyes. His voice was icy, making your pussy throb with need.

“Noona, if you close your legs, I’m going to punish you,” Jungkook warned.

Part of you wanted to know what the punishment was, but the other part of you really wanted to orgasm, so kept your snide remark to yourself and simply nodded.

Jungkook removed his hands from your knees and placed them on your shuddering breasts. Fuck. You hadn’t realized you were so horny until Jungkook touched you. A pained whimper strained in your throat.

The side of his lips curved upwards.

“Does my dirty, slutty noona want to be fucked?” His nails sank down, digging into your skin. “Do you want to be used by me, your tight little pussy stretched out and pleading for more?” Jungkook leaned forward, breathing into your face, growling whisper against your lips. He pinched your nipples and you moaned, wanting to kiss him, but knowing he wasn’t going to let you. He chuckled darkly, seeing your desperation.

“Do you want to be a slave for Jungkookie’s cock, noona?”

Fuuuuuuuck.

Your heart was beating so fast that your breathing was coming out in little gasps as he twisted your nipples harshly, rubbing the tips with his thumb. Your legs shook, threatening to close because the lack of friction was killing you.

“Y-yes, Jungkook, fuck yes.”

He yanked on your nipples and slapped them, making you hiss with pain, flinching as the sting shot up your chest. Jungkook reached into his back pocket and produced the silk neck scarf.

“Keep quiet for me noona or everyone will know how much of a slut you are for me.”

And then he shoved your own scarf into your parted lips, gagging you. Not a second too soon, because, without warning, Jungkook immediately spanked your barely clothed clit. You yelped around the silk, thighs quivering. He gripped one of your thighs, digging his nails into it, tearing the sheer pantyhose a little.

“Don’t move and take it,” he snarled.

Your back arched as Jungkook began to slap your pussy, hard, unforgiving, loud, and making you wetter and wetter, so much so his hand was slipping a little with each smack. You screamed around the scarf, hips trembling as they rose to meet each hit, flaring pain in between your thighs but so, so good. He clenched his jaw, dark eyes on your quickly reddening pussy lips that were sucking your panties deeper and deeper into your slit.

“Fuck,” he growled. “Fuck, you’re so hot and so fucking perfect for me.”

He removed his hand from your thigh and ripped the center seam of your pantyhose apart.

You started, eyes widening as you watched him tear through it, yelling at him through the scarf. You still needed to wear those! The small tears were one thing, but a full-on giant rip at the crotch was not going to be comfortable to wear for the rest of the day.

Jungkook smirked, raising a hand to his ear. “What’s that? Can’t hear you.”

You glared at him and was about to remove the scarf from your mouth to scold him, but his smirk turned into a roguish grin.

“Hm? Slap you harder and abuse your clit?”

You paled.

“My pleasure.”

You threw you head back as Jungkook mercilessly spanked your now only lace-covered clit, impossibly fast, towering over you and hooking his arm under your back, dragging you to him, arching your spine more, more, so your tits were straight up, bouncing right in his face as he changed from smacking your clit to rubbing it just as fast, rougher, so intense you were hoarsely wailing into the gag.

All of a sudden, your orgasm violently rammed into you, pleasure racking your entire body, amplified by stinging pain. Your pussy clenched around nothing, wetly squelching as Jungkook breathed hotly down on your nipples, still rubbing you through your orgasm, not letting up. You shook your head furiously, trying to tell him it was too much, that you were too sensitive, but you didn’t lift your hands to stop him, only spreading your fingers against the table, palms flat as your hips raised to his fingers.

You felt his hair brush against your nipples as he licked your cleavage, smirking up at your face.

“One more and then I’ll fuck you the way I want to, noona.”

Your legs were losing feeling from how hard you were locking them in place as you felt Jungkook pry your lace panties out of your pussy, shoving them to one side. Oh shit. You moaned as you felt him shove two fingers into you, eyes squeezing shut as he added a third, scissoring them as he smiled cruelly at you, eagerly watching your reaction.

“Such a greedy pussy, sucking in my fingers like this,” Jungkook drawled, your walls clenching around them, feeling every callus and every joint, all the way to his knuckles. “All mine, my beautiful, slutty noona.”

You would have asked Jungkook what the time was if your brain could still function, but your brain timed itself out, because Jungkook was thrusting his fingers into you now, filling you up, and feeding your need and desperation, assaulting your pussy with pleasure. The pain of your stinging, puffy lips rubbing against his hand added to the ecstasy, heightening it, your moaning now unintelligible behind the silk scarf that was saturated with your saliva. The sound was obscene, sloppy smacking sounds of your drenched hole getting pounded into the desk.

You threw your head back and choked out his name around the makeshift gag, throbbing pussy clamping down on his fingers. Thick, viscous liquid gushed out onto his palm, the back of his hand, dripping down to his wrist. It was so intense that your entire body jerked up into Jungkook’s face, hitting him with your tits.

If Jungkook was mad about it, he didn’t show it. He wrenched his slick fingers out and you whined, watching him with glazed eyes as licked them off, ferally growling at your taste. He released your back from his arm and you slid down, laying against the desk, panting.

“You taste extra delicious today, noona,” he chuckled. “Candy always tastes better in cute packaging.”

You barely had time to register that Jungkook had just compared you to a fucking convenience store snack before he yanked down his pants again, whipping out a foil packet and ripping it open. Less than a second and the condom was on, and then Jungkook shoved his cock into you, a startled gasp dying in your very over-used throat.

Jungkook moaned your name above you, softly and lustfully, pulling your hips closer to him so he was all the way inside you. You clenched around his length and he sighed, small smirk on his pink lips, eyelids fluttering.

“You’re going to kill me one day with how perfectly tight you are for me,” he mumbled.

Your eyes found his and he grinned, looking down at you through his lashes, his hair obscuring half his face.

Fuck, you could stare at him all day.

Jungkook placed your legs around his waist, finally letting them rest from the forced spreading. He roughly jerked his hips into yours and you whimpered, nails clawing into the desk. His fingers dug into your hips and he set his jaw, beginning a hard, fast pace, slapping your hips together, fucking you into the desk. It scraped noisily into the floor, but neither of you cared, you abused pussy lips rubbing against his crotch every time his hips met yours, carried to new heights of pain and pleasure, loving every second, every moment of Jungkook using you to chase his own orgasm, his cock swelling and dragging against your tight walls. So much. So full.

You could never be satisfied with another cock.

“Fuck.”

Jungkook hissed, grip on your hips tightening, bruising you with his fingertips.

“Fuck, noona, I love you.”

Your heart stopped.

And then your orgasm crashed down, overtaking you completely, your head smacking the desk and seeing stars, clenching around Jungkook’s cock and pulsating violently around his length, soaking his thighs with your juices, scent so strong you were sure whatever class that was going to use this lecture hall next was going to smell your cum splattering to the floor.

Jungkook gritted his teeth and rammed his hips into you, dragging you down to meet every thrust, intensifying your orgasm, ripping your pantyhose even more. Once, twice, three times, and he groaned, shuddering as he spilled into the condom, cock shivering inside you as he came. You could feel how much it was, pressing against your walls.

His long hair was all over his face, black strands clinging to his tan skin, sweat dripping off his chin, pink lips quivering, dark eyes roaming over your fucked-out form. Panting hard, matching your heavy, grating breaths behind your now saliva-drenched neck scarf. After a long moment, Jungkook reached down and held onto the condom, slowly pulling out of you.

Holy fuck.

Holy fuck.

You reached up with a shaking hand, pulling the silk out of your mouth. It came out in a long strip of fabric, smacking against your cheek as your removed it from your lips.

Holy.

Fuck.

You sat up, your body screaming at you, seeing Jungkook breathing hard, tying up the condom.

“Did you just tell me you love me?”

Jungkook’s ears turned bright red. He chewed on his lip, biting it hard before facing you. Dark brown eyes suddenly vulnerable, scared. It was the most uncharacteristic expression you had ever witnessed on Jeon Jungkook’s chiseled, handsome face.

“Uh… yeah.”

There was a moment where you realized both you two were mostly naked in a random classroom, clothes thrown everywhere, having made a mess once again.

“Sorry,” Jungkook added quickly. “It slipped out.”

You blinked at him. “Why are you apologizing?”

He rubbed his nose, looking away.

“Well… aren’t you just fucking me because you like to be dominated?”

You frowned. “No, I’m fucking you because I’m in love with you.”

You saw Jungkook freeze. He turned his head robotically, eyes wide and doe-like. “R-really?”

You looked down to notice that your heels were on the tile floor. When had you lost those? You grumbled, trying to straighten out your panties and the remains of your pantyhose. It was doomed. You shrugged, dangling your legs over the edge of the desk as you looked back at Jungkook and his surprised expression. You raised an eyebrow.

“Are you really that much of an idiot?” you muttered, your own cheeks burning, letting out a puff of annoyed air. “Yes, I love you. Why else would I tolerate you staring at me like I’m some kind of zoo animal? Why else would I risk getting in trouble by running around like this? Why else would I let you fuck me at school, in the middle of the damn day, again?”

Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck. “Erm… because I’m hot?”

You rubbed your forehead and sighed exasperatedly, standing up, instantly wincing. Jungkook took a step forward to catch you, but he almost tripped on his pants down his ankles. You caught yourself against the desk and raised a hand, shaking your head.

“Pack your damn dick,” you muttered. You yanked your tights down your legs, removing them and balling them up. They were useless now anyway. You found your bra and put it back on as you eyed your chiffon blouse. Good thing it wasn’t ripped. It only took you a moment to slip it back on, rebuttoning it and tucking it into your skirt. You pulled your pencil skirt back down, straightening it, thighs immediately sticking together from your own fluids.

Yup, still no more comfortable than yanking your pants back on after a session with Jungkook.

You noticed him putting his leather jacket back on and picking up the condom wrapper. He took the silk scarf from the table and shoved it in his back pocket. You went back to him to gather your shoes, but he knelt down, holding out your black heels as if you were Cinderella.

“I can just–”

“Step.”

His tone was sharp and you immediately obeyed, raising your foot and stepping into your shoe. First one, then the other. Jungkook stood back up, exhaling a little. You looked up at him. His chocolate eyes flitted about tensely. He opened his mouth to speak.

“Do you… uh…”

You cut him off. “Jungkook, if you cheat on me, I will personally castrate you with a spoon.”

He cringed. “Ouch.”

You took the used condom and the wrapper bits from him, shoving them into your balled-up pantyhose. You marched towards the door confidently, pain shooting throughout your body with every step. Jungkook called after you.

“Your hairpins.”

You turned your head back a little.

“You can drop them off at my apartment later.”

And then you unlocked the door and stepped out of the classroom.

Park Jimin waved at you, grinning. Plump lips curved into a mischievous smile, wearing a denim jacket and jeans. You almost jumped seeing him standing there. What the fuck is with this guy’s timing? He eyed your hand holding your ruined pantyhose and you put it behind your back, glaring at him.

“I told Namjoon you had a lady emergency.” Jimin wiggled his eyebrows at you before holding up your phone and black purse, the belongings you had left in the back room. “You took longer than you should have.”

You felt your ears burn. “Shit. I need to get back.”

“To Jungkook, yeah,” Jimin chimed teasingly, making you glower at him.

Of course. Jungkook had turned Jimin into his scout for your escapades. Fantastic. You suddenly felt a strong presence behind you. The door had opened and Jungkook’s arm snaked around your waist, yanking you possessively to his side. He placed his chin on top of your head, inhaling the scent of your hair.

“You wanna go on a date, noona?” Jungkook purred, his free hand playing with the ends of your disheveled hair.

You pursed your lips. “I have to get back and help Namjoon.”

Jimin waved a hand. “He’ll be fine for one day. Plus, you’re being kidnapped.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Jungkook slapped his hand over your lips, marching you in the opposite direction of Career Week, Jimin skipping behind you two, cheerfully humming.

-

part iv

--

masterpost

[spacegirlapollo]

Right Here, Right Now [Shouta Aizawa Smut]

Title: Right Here, Right Now 

Genre: Fluff, Smut 

Words: 3,379 

Notes: It’s a little long sorry sksk. But if you wanna skip to the juicy bits, scroll down to the “Part Two” Line break. Enjoy! Also Going to be trying to do a Sinful Saturday series where I post Smut on Sundays. Right now it’s mainly Aizawa but will be other characters as im feeling it. Send a request if you want ! 

---------------------  Part One ------------------------

Out of everyone you knew, your husband, AIzawa Shouta, had the quietest footsteps you never heard. He developed the frightening skill, from his undercover hero work, years before he’d even become a teacher at U.A.

You took it as a sign of your strong relationship however that sometimes you could sense his presence, even if you couldn't hear him. You always enjoyed the surprised look on his face when you turned to see him whenever he was silently catwalking into a room.

And now was one of those times, there were no signs to say that he’d entered your shared bathroom, except that you knew he had.

You looked up from the countertop full of your makeup products to see him, looking at the slight mess you’d made of the sink area. Your mouth fell open when you saw the state that he was in.

“Shouta!” You exclaimed in genuine horror. “ What the fuck are you wearing?”

You hadn’t meant for the last part to come out. And even though Aizawa was fully aware of your tendency to have a sailor mouth, you still hadn’t meant to say it. But you were appalled at the solid black dress pants, horizontally striped dress shirt, and dark navy blue jacket that he was wearing. The more you looked at him the more you noticed that nothing he was wearing was matching.

His eyebrow twitched a bit, but he gave you an otherwise blank look. You sighed, closing the eyeliner bottle in your hand and placing it on the sink.

You had suspected, when you were younger and first began dating, that Aizawa lacked some fashion sense. He’d mostly stuck to black anytime he went outside so matching wasn't really a problem. It wasn’t until you begam spending the night with him, that you’d seen him put together outfits that made absolutely no sense. You’d always found it funny to see what he would toss on.

It had been decided, mostly by you, that for big events you’d pick out the clothes. And it had been years of this going smoothly. You suspected that since you dressed him so sharply, he’d gotten compliments, and that was why he continued to let you dress him up.

And before you’d gone into the bathroom to fix your makeup, you’d laid out his outfit for the night on the bed.

There was a teacher’s appreciation night at U.A and you were going as his plus one. This had been your 5th time going together, and each year was more fancy than the last.

Shouta was crossing his arms over his chest, still not having said a word.

“Babe.” You said carefully as to not burst out into laughter. “ What happened to what I put on the bed?”

He uncrossed his arms and scratched the back of his head looking slightly uncomfortable. Now you were confused. He never had any issues before with what you’d picked out. In fact, if you had forgotten to pick an outfit he’d gently remind you.  You thought back to what you’d put on the bed, a simple black suit was what you had gone with since you were wearing a black dress. There was no way he wouldn't have liked it.

“It’s…. Too small.” He said finally, embarrassment tinting his cheeks.

“To small?” You were confused. You’d bought it only 8 months ago. You did a quick glance over, he hadn’t put on any weight where you could see.

“In the arms.. And thighs.” He said, he looking like he wished he could sink into the floor.

“Oh.” You said blinking. “ OHH!” you said again louder when you finally understood. Honeslty you felt a little dumb. He’d gotten buffer. You could even see in what he was wearing now that the arms were a little too tight and you could almost see the outline of his muscles as if it was a fitted jacket.

This time you couldn’t help the laugh that came out, which only got louder as he gave you a glare.

“I-I’m sorry baby. I don't mean to laugh” You said in between laughs.

“Yeah you do.” He mused out but he didn't seem upset.

You came closer and squeezed on his upper arms, which barely had any room, left in them, and were so… solid.

You couldn't deny that he had gotten thicker over the year, you just hadn’t thought about it when you bought the suit.

“Hmm… Maybe I do.” You said cheekily smiling up at him. He gave you a small smile back in spite of himself.

“Okay.” You said stepping back a bit and looking him up and down. “ Take all of that off. I’m going to use my quirk.

At this he looked surprised, an eyebrow raised. “Are you sure? You always get a  headache when you use it too much.”

You shook your head.” This won't be so bad. I already have an idea of what I’m going to make.”

He gave you another skeptical look before he unbuttoned the jacket to start taking it off.

You bit your lip a little as he focused on unbuttoning the dress shirt and sliding it off his frame.

He’d definitely gotten bigger, you weren't sure if it was deliberate, but you did not mind in the least. His hair fell over his face as he bent over to pull his pants off and move the pile of clothes out of the way.

You paused for a minute to take in your husband and all his glory as he stood in only his boxers and socks.

“Do you not like it?” He said quietly, shattering your ungodly thoughts.

You blinked. “ Huh?” You asked looking up at his unreadable face.

“That I’m bigger. Do you not like it?” He asked again.

You felt like someone had smacked you. Your husband, THE Aizawa Shouta was feeling a  little insecure. Because he kept his cards so close to the chest, it hadn't even crossed your mind that he would ever experience that feeling. And the fact that he was being vulnerable, right now in front of you made your love for him multiply.

You opened your mouth before you could even think to maybe censor yourself.

“Honestly Shouta, you look so fucking hot, I’m actually debating about skipping the event and jumping your bones.”

You covered your mouth a bit in shock, that you’d actually said that. There was a moment of silence where you were now the one wishing to sink into the floor. Then he came forward till he was almost pressed against you, a smirk on his face. Any trace of unreadable insecurity gone. You were glad, although a little embarrassed.

He moved your hand from your face and tucked a finger underneath your chin tilting your head up. You didn't get a chance to think as he pressed his soft lips against yours in a slow intoxicating kiss that left you fiending for more. Almost as if he sensed your sudden want he pulled away smiling down at you.

“Maybe we should go to the event first. Then we can talk about what happens when we get back home.”

You pouted. “ Fine. But you’re such a tease.”

He chuckled at this and took a step back expectantly. You took a deep breath and put your hands around his lower neck focusing on activating your quirk.

You had the quirk of Matter ideation. When you focused hard enough, you could make your ideas into reality by manipulating the matter that you touch with your hands. You could even make living things if you concentrate hard enough. But the bigger or more complicated a thing was the more energy it took from you and you were often left with a piercing headache that functioned like a hangover that usually kicked in an hour or two after you created something.

You breathed out, moving your hands down his bare and exposed chest. Your eyes were closed as you imagined the final product moving your hands down from his neck all the way down to his toes.

You could feel the matter pushing and blending together and taking on different shapes and colors, and molding around his skin.

When you were finished you opened your eyes and your mouth fell open. It looked better than you expected.

It was a deep and dark green suit that you had created that fit him, wonderfully, perfectly even. You turned to reach into the bathroom cabinet pulling out a hair tie.

Standing on your tiptoes, your faces once again close, you pulled his soft and freshly washed hair back and pinned it up into a half bun. You could feel his eyes on you as you did this meeting his for a moment and smiling.

“There.” You said after a moment, taking a step back to look at him. You put your hand to your chin as if you were thinking and nodded.

“Yeah that's hot.”

Shouta ignored you, turning to face the mirror, but you could see the slight tint of pink on his cheeks.

You watched him look at himself in the large mirror and eyebrow raised.

“What do you think?”

“I like the color.” He said in the most monotone voice possible but you just about rocketed off into space. You leaned up on his shoulder and kissed his cheek before turning back to your makeup mess, trying to locate your eyeliner.

“We have like half an hour left to get ready, so I have to finish doing my makeup. It's a disaster right now.”

-----

Half an hour later, Shouta was sitting in the dining room, looking over student essays when he heard the bathroom door opening upstairs. He keeps grading until he hears the clack of your heels coming down the stairs. Dropping his pencil and standing up he makes his way into the living room where he is stopped in his tracks.

You were coming down the stairs holding the rail with one hand concentrating on walking with your high heel.

Feeling a bit uneasy, he moved close to the stairs and just as he predicted your right foot slipped sending you flying forward. With one easy movement he caught you in his arms, a smile gracing his face when you looked up at him appreciatively.

“You look beautiful.” He said setting you straight and tucking your hair behind your ear.

To make sure you matched, you created yourself a green dress that complimented his suit.

“Thank you.” You said smiling. You were buzzing and ready to go.

“Ready?” He asked taking a deep breath as if he was steeling himself. Social events were never his thing but he went cause he knew you enjoyed them, and to appease his various co-workers.

“Yep” You slid your hand in his and headed towards the door.

------------------ PART TWO ------------------

It was two hours into the party and suddenly you were wishing you had headed your husbands warning. You were at U.A with Aizawa for a teacher’s appreciation event, and after having used your quirk to make you and your husband clothes, you were experiencing the side effects of your quirk.

You gripped the stem of your wine glass a little harder as your head started to throb. You felt like your brain was going to split into two at any second. Your quirk was like a muscle, if you didnt use it for a while, you had to build it back up again. You couldn't remember the last time you’d used your quirk, so making your dress and your husband’s suit was too much for your body at the moment.

The music inside the school gym was blasting and everyone was huddled around talking loud to hear each other. Shouta had gotten pulled away to take teacher photos in the corner of the gym. You could see him now, deadpanning into the camera. It would have brought a smile to your face if you didn't feel like you were about to puke from the pain.

Without taking a glance around you took a large gulp of your wine, finishing it off in a not so classy way. You knew you would pay with another hangover later, but maybe the alcohol would temporarily help you out.

Ten minutes later, and quite a few drinks later, you were sitting with your head down on top of a table, wishing that you could turn back time and stop yourself from making the dress. You still would have looked nice in the dress you had already picked out.

You wanted to go find some of the teachers and chat and have a good time, but you felt like if you opened your mouth, it would be a cry. You weren't sure how long you had been sitting alone, when a hand was placed on your back. You jumped up, feeling your head sloshing a bit as the alcohol you’d ingested started to catch up with you.

It was Shouta, looking down at you concern over his face. He crouched down close to you so that he didn't have to shout so loud.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. You looked at him and realized he still had on fake prop glasses that someone had probably put on him. You smiled and pulled them off his face to plalce them on the table.

“You were right.” You pouted. “ My head is about to split open.” You said. Understanding hit his face, but he made no move to shame you, the concern still there. Damn you loved this man.

“But never fear!” You said and he raised an eyebrow.

“ I downed many a cup of alcohol. And I am already feeling better.” You said grabbing his face and laughing. Maybe you were already a little tipsy. You tended to get giggly when you drink.

He grabbed your hands  and brought them back to your lap amused. “ Your headache is just going to be worse later.”

You leaned forward more, a mischievous look clear as day on your face. “ Exactly, later.”

Before he could say anything else you connected your lips, returning the soft but intoxicating kiss he’d given you earlier. You considered it payback. When he pressed back to take over the kiss you pulled away a smirl playing on your lips.

“After the party… remember?” You said.

He cleared his throat returning back to normal public Aizawa within a moment.

“Right.”

You smiled wickedly.

“Right.” You said back. You stood up. “ Let’s go bug Toshi!!” You said in a sing song voice.

---

Aizawa was vaguely aware of the conversation that was happening around him. But his eyes were focused past the the group of teachers he was standing around and onto you. You were dancing with Toshinori chatting away happily. He knew you had a soft spot for the old man and you had rescued him from an awkward conversation asking Toshinonri to dance, leaving Aizawa open to being brought into various conversations that he did not care about.

You looked cute as you chatted with All Might, spinning under his arm as the music changed. His mind wandered onto the kiss you had given him shortly before. He knew you were definitely a little drunk, as you typically did not engage in PDA for his sake. It had caught him off guard, in only the way you could. You smelled heavenly and looked so beautiful with your hair pinned up and your dress.

He couldn't think of anything he’d like more at that moment than seeing your hair wild over the pillows, screaming out his name. It was like he could feel your hands ghosting up chest and digging into his back.

Snapping back into reality, he didn't have to look down to feel how tight his pants had become.

Shit.

“Excuse me.” He said in the middle of someone talking before dipping out of the conversation and cutting across the gym to the dance floor.

Toshinori saw you first, giving him a bright smile as he stopped dancing with you.

---

You looked up at Toshi pouting trying to figure out why you’d stopped . You were having a great time dancing with him. He was surprisingly good at leading, and he was telling you about his golden day stories.

You noticed he was looking at someone behind you so you turned, to see your husband standing there a strange look on his face. Your eyes traveled down and a smirk graced your face.

“Can I cut in?” He asked Toshi who nodded and let go of your hands at once.

“Of course.” he said, either not seeing his coworkers hard-on or doing a great job of pretending not to. “ I think i’m going to help myself to some more juice.” Leaning down he kissed you on the forehead quickly before heading away.  

No sooner was Shouta grabbing your hand and almost dragging you in the directions of the parking lot. You felt a wave of wanton lust flow over you as you reached the car.

You slipped into the car barely waiting until the door was closed before you climbed over the passenger seat and into Shouta’s lap.

He gave a surprised grunt as you kissed him deep, your tounges swirling together. You were fumbling with his belt when he grabbed your hands.

“Were in the parking lot Y/N” He said a bit breathily.

You tapped the dark window next to you. “They’re tinted, remember?”

You leaned forward your face and chest leaning over him close. “ You wanna wait?” You asked placing a hand over his clothed cock, gripping it softly.

When he didn’t answer you began to stroke it excruciatingly slow. “ Hm?”

You leaned over and left searing butterfly kisses up his neck, until you reached his ear where you said softly. “ Don’t you wanna fuck me Shouta?”

You were being a big brat. But you didn’t care your brain was clouded in want.

“Fuck Y/N.” He almost growled out gripping your face with both of his hand and bringing you in for another head swirling kiss. You felt his hands skirting up your dress till they found your lacy underwear.

You heard the tear of fabric before you even felt him ripping your underwear, and tossing them into the backseat. With your free hand you pulled his hard cock out of his pants. His hands moved to your waist with a vice like grip lining you up perfectly with him.

You broke your kiss to moan as he finally filled you up with one hard push.

--

Aizawa head was swirling with thoughts of you. If anything you looked more beautiful on top of him. Your carefully placed hair pins had slipped and your wild curly hair was falling past your shoulders. You were the only person in the world he’d be vulnerable with the only person he’d let touch him. And you felt so good, too good.

He didn't waste any time lifting you up again, chasing that feeling of being completely connected to you.

The way your face shifted into pleasure as he stroked again into you, made him want to cum in your right then in there, but he would pace himself.

--

After letting you get adjusted the pace he sent was relentless. His thick cock was pounding up into you and you couldn't even think for how good it felt. Neither of you were going to last long like this.

“Oh baby.” You cried out your hands flat on his chest and curling into fist pulling at his clothing. “ Oh baby don’t stop.”

You were on fire in pleasure, the sound of your moans and wetness slamming together filling the car. You head flew back, mouth agape as you began to cum around his throbbing manhood.

“Shouta!” You cried out tightening around him sending him over the edge and gushing into you.

You brought your head down to kiss him again as you both rode out your orgasim. Your thigh spasming softly under his touch.

“Mmm. I love you.” he said between kisses. And you smiled against his lips.

“I love you too Shouta.” You said.

[rina-writes]

Baby Boy

Summary: You and Grayson are acquaintances with benefits. Being older than him you pointedly ignore all the signs that he has deeper feelings.  However, it becomes clear that you cannot keep ignoring your own.

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, kinda sub!gray, older!reader

“Did your door just open?” One of your friends asked, comically craning her neck on her screen as though she would be able to see behind you.

Out of paranoia, you moved your computer slightly despite knowing she wouldn’t be able to see anything.  This alerted your other friends who were clearly multitasking during the weekly group call.  The other two of your friends were parents and were currently begging their children for peace of mind.  The friend who mentioned the door opening had no interest in having children, but had been married the longest out of everyone.

You were the only one single and thriving...emphasis on thriving.  You felt it as you looked at yourself in the small preview of your video. You were wearing a baby pink robe that if the camera panned down it would reveal that it left nothing to the imagination.  It still looked luxurious against your skin, only heightened by the dangling diamond chandelier earrings that almost grazed your shoulders.  You were in the process of removing your makeup, or so you made it appear, so you only had on your eyebrow pencil and mascara.  Your lips were still tinted red as you were in process of removing your lipstick. In reality you were leaving a bit of makeup on for your visitor.

“Y/N!” Your friend yelled.  “Are you in distress?! Blink three times if you need help.”

You laughed. “No, a friend just arrived and...” You looked to your side before back to the camera. “...made himself comfortable.”

“Him?!” All your friends said simultaneously.

“Who is this mystery guy?” One of your other friends asked.

“The one you robbed from his cradle?” The last friend teased while they actually balanced an infant in their arms.

You hid a blush, embarrassed that Grayson could hear them. Your eyes darted to him, watching him sit on your bed with nothing on but his shorts that hung dangerously low at his waist.  He was pretending to be on his phone, but his fingers weren’t moving which told you he was listening. 

He was so handsome. The way he leaned back, propping himself up with one muscular arm bended at the elbow. He was so tan that it made his hazel eyes look lighter at times.  You were tempted to walk over to him, take his chin and force him to look at you with this big, puppy eyes.  It was your first friend’s voice that brought you back to reality.

“Earth to, Y/N! Girl, who is this man?” She slammed her open palm on her desk, causing her partner behind her to turn around to see what was going on.

“I don’t gossip.” You joked, grabbing your tea cup and taking a long sip.  That was a lie as you were all gossiping up until this very moment.

Before your friends could say anything else, you saw Grayson appear behind you in your self-view camera.  To be precise, you saw Grayson’s abs and his adonis belt appear behind you.  His large tan hand gently removed the cup from your hand while his other hand took yours to bring it up to his lips for a kiss.  While his face was out of camera for your friends, you could see this mischief in his eyes as he locked gazes with you. He walked out of the room and you heard the sound of him lifting the kettle to top off your cup.  He returned quickly with your refilled cup and placed it on the table.

“oh...my...god...” Your friends said in unison, their jaws dropping.

You finally broke your stare from Grayson to your camera to be greeted with their shocked expressions.

Not liking the loss of your attention, Grayson got down on his knees and turned your computer chair so you were facing him.  With your side profile to your camera, all your friends could see was you staring at something below you.  They saw the movement of your legs being uncrossed and spread apart, but not enough to get the graphic details.

“I’ll talk to you guys later...” You whispered, your eyes darting between Grayson slowly removing your underwear and the screen as you attempted to successful close the call.

With a click of a button, your zoom call was done, and you slapped your laptop shut.

Grayson pushed your legs aside and breathed in your aroma. You smirked and pushed his forehead to block him.  You stood up, still wearing your high heels because you knew he liked it, and catwalked to the middle of the room. Grayson smirked at you, gripping your panties that had fallen on the floor and tightening them into a ball in his hands.  He admired you in your designer robe. It was so short that as you looked at him from the side, he got an eyeful of your round butt. His eyes started from your high heel covered shoes, up your legs, tracing your butt and hips, dancing up your waist, and zooming in on your chest before finally locking on your disapproving eyes.

“Who told you you could interrupt my call?” You asked, keeping the same measured tone you use at work.

Grayson licked his lips, unapologetically. “I just wanted to show off for you.”

“I don’t need you to show off for them.” You rolled your eyes. “They are easily impressed.”

Grayson stood up and walked over to you.  He looked down at you cockily, but you met his intensity with confidence. 

“How do I impress you?” He asked.

“I think you know.” You stood with your legs wide and Grayson smiled softly.

Typical of you to make him kneel again just to show him who’s boss. He didn’t mind, he loved it. He loved eating you out and hearing you moan his name. In a strange way, you dominating him also put you at his mercy in certain positions. This was one of them.

Grayson got on his knees and placed his shoulders on the back of your legs. He tilted his head upward to nuzzle your clit before tilting back further to give it a little lick.  You groaned softly as he continued to lick your folds, greedily lapping the bit of arousal already there.  Your finger intertwined with his locks gripping them tightly as you grinded on his face.  If he had a problem with it, you wouldn’t know.  Grayson was practically moaning into your clit and it made it all the better. His tongue latched on to your nub and he sucked on it harshly.  You gasped, almost ripping out his hair in the process.  Except you would never remove those soft brown locks that you adored staring at between your legs.

“Harder...” You moaned out.

Grayson grunted in response and lifted you, holding your butt for balance.  Despite him doing this before, you had to brace yourself for the ascent.  You held on to his shoulders to steady yourself.  He now made long strokes with his tongue against your folds, his beard tickling you gently.

“Faster.” You commanded and his tongue jammed inside of you at a quick pace.  You couldn’t believe he was able to go so deep and so fast at the same time.  You would praise him later, after your third or fourth orgasm.  It wouldn’t be long as the first one was about to wash over you.

Your body trembled and you could feel Grayson bracing for it.  It embarassed you slightly that he knew your body so well.  With a half-yell, his tongue was covered with your arousal.  He knew that you could get so wet that he would have to eat you out for days to get it all, but he was willing to try.

As you came off your high, still on his shoulders, you let him enjoy his “meal.” Eventually, you sighed.

“Don’t be so greedy.” You teased.  “Put me down on the bed.”

He looked at you disapprovingly, but he still walked over to the bed.  You slowly untangled your legs from around his neck and shoulders and he laid you down.

Grayson sucked in a breath at the sigh of you.  Your robe came apart on top to reveal the center of your breasts while it was still short enough on the bottom to put your aroused pussy on display. He stared at you as he got down on his knees again.

“Ugh, Grayson, stop...” You groaned as you propped yourself up with your elbows on the bed.

“B-But...” He pouted.  “You didn’t squirt...”

“I don’t have to squirt every time.” You shook your head.  

You pretended like it was annoying, but it was stil mind boggling for you.  Before Grayson, you were used to being left high and dry.  He was the first guy to ever be sad that you didn’t orgasm wildly every time.

You sat up fully on the bed and gestured for him to stand up.  He did and you pulled him with his hips toward you.

“You were a good boy today.” You cooed. You pulled down his shorts and smiled when you saw him wearing nothing underneath, just how you liked it. “I am going to reward you.”

You pumped his cock slowly, admiring its girth and length. As much as your friends teased you about Grayson being young, at 20 going on 21 he was not lacking anything that men you date 10 and even 20 years older than him possessed. If anything, he gave you so much more.

How could you not enjoy his reactions? His hands locked around his wrists behind his back as he tried to choke back his moans. His toes curled making him shift his balance from side to side on his feet. It was so cute to see him trying to act tough, but you knew what it would take for him to give in.

You took him in your mouth. Slowly, but continued to tease the base of his cock with your hands. You heard his breath catch in his throat, encouraging you to keep going.  As you took him completely, your hands slipped down to fondle his balls. 

“F-ck...” He swore loudly, his hands resting on the back of your head.

You shot him a look and he returned it with an apologetic look, putting his hands behind his back once more.  You gagged on him, something you often faked in the past, but did naturally for him. He withered under touch, moaning your name. You could feel his knees giving out, but you only hollowed your cheeks in response.  His moans became pleas as he felt himself getting closer to release.

“Please...” He choked out.  “...let me pleasure you.”

As much as you loved how embarrassed he got when he cummed prematurely, you obliged and let him go.  You admired his cock standing tall and proud, slick with your saliva before leaning back on the bed.

“If you insist...” You said, trying to sound nonchalant.

He climbed on top of you hungrily.  As usual he leaned in for a kiss, but he anticipated you turning your head to avoid it.  He knew he would get his reward when he brought you to your orgasm.  Instead, he settled for laying soft kisses on your neck. He removed your robe along the way, not without kissing every inch of skin.  

You blushed, never getting used to the praise that he gave your body.  He kissed every bit of flesh on your shoulders and breast--oh how much time he loved to spend on your breasts, licking and sucking on your nipples--to your stomach, before laying butterfly kisses on your core. It was almost too much and you whined to get to the main attraction.

“Just put it in me...” You groaned.

He smiled at you, widening your legs as far as they could go. “Yes, ma’am.”

He put one hand on your hip and the other hand on his cock to moisten even more with your arousal.  In one swoop he was thrusting inside of you.  Your back arched and he greeted your chest by sucking on one of your nipples.  You clenched around him at the double sensation of him teasing your nipple while pounding into you needily.  You gasped as you gripped on to his locks, matching his rhythm to the best of your ability.

“God, harder...” You commanded.

He gripped your hips and slammed into you, your bed creaking loudly as a response.  It almost felt like an earthquake the way the entire room was shaking.  Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and Grayson knew it was his chance.

He leaned down and kissed your lips softly.  Your mouth, already open and panting, accepted the kiss with your tongue reaching out to greet him.  His tongue happily played with yours  while his hips continued to do their job and ram into you with all their might.

He broke the kiss while pulling out, making your eyes widen with rage.  Grayson smirked at you, before turning you on your side.  You instantly lifted your leg to rest it on his shoulder as he re-entered you.  The new angle sent a shock of pleasure through your body and you moaned approvingly.

Grayson smiled, hiding his pride by leaning down and nuzzling into your hair. He hated how much he lived for your acceptance.  At the same time, that little smile that crept on your lips as you neared your release it was the one thing that kept him going.

“I’m so close, baby boy.” You said, making Grayson grunt.

Just hearing that nickname made him want to bust.  But, he had to hold on.  You always came first, that was what started your rendezvous in the first place.  His ability to pleasure you like no other man put him at the top of your list, and he would not relinquish his spot to anyone.

“Fill me, baby boy.” You said, your eyes looking at him sensually. “Cum with me.”

Your eyes locked and he could only nod as he released.  You clenched around him with a force so strong that he wasn’t even sure his seed could come out, but it did. With a few more thrusts, he pulled out.  You rolled on top your back and spread your legs for him, the mix of your released oozing out of you.

“Clean it up...” You said, in a tired, but still authoritative voice.

“Yes, ma’am...” Grayson said, but he was already on his knees, excited to lap it up and finally make you squirt.

Somewhere between you squirting and your fourth orgasm, you blacked out.  When you came to, you were under the covers of your bed in the embrace of Grayson Dolan.  The sun was sneaking through your curtains and the sounds of cars and tweeting birds filled your ears.

You inhaled a sharp breath and wiggled out of Grayson’s big spoon grasp.  Before you could stop yourself, you turned and looked at him.  He looked so innocent when he slept.  Like a big man-child, with his long brown lashes and stubbly beard. Beside yourself, you pressed a soft kiss on his lips.  Your heart jumped into your throat when he stirred a bit.  Worried you got caught, you hopped off the bed.  You realized it was a false alarm as he bear turned and let out a snore, his back now facing you.

You sighed and grabbed your robe off the floor. Your eyes traced your room and you saw his t-shirt that he left on the floor by your door.  You figured he had taken it off the moment he entered, not realizing you were on the phone with your friends.  You grabbed his shirt and slipped it on, getting a whiff of a summery scent as you did.  This was your favorite.  You made the mistake of telling him once and he has never stopped wearing it.  

You liked that he wore rhe fragrabmncr, you just hated the fact that he knew how much you liked it.  

You sighed as you walked to your bedside table and picked up your phone. It was around 8am on a Sunday and you had a whole bunch of things to do before work the next day.  This was the first time in a long time Grayson spent the night, even if it was unintentional. He would usually slip out when you were sleeping, but he really put in his all the night before.  You decided to reward him.

You walked into the kitchen to make his favorite breakfast of yours, a breakfast sandwich, all vegan of course.  As you cooked the meatless sausage, you poured yourself a glass of orange juice.  You spotted the champagne your business partner got you to celebrate a new product launch earlier this week and you decided to add a bit to your juice.

“Isn’t it a little early to be drinking?” Grayson’s voice asked, still gruff from tiredness.

You were surprised, but you controlled it, shrugging.  You sipped the now mimosa with a soft smirk.  You quirked an eyebrow as you realize he was completely naked. He was also smirking seeing you in his shirt, something you rarely did.

“I may not have meat products anymore...” You said, your own voice deep from not using it all morning, “...but I refuse to give up my mimosas.”

“Hmm?” Grayson asked, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

You could feel all of him pressed against and you hid your amusement by taking another sip.

“It has special significance for me...” You continued.  “I remember my first one. It was during my summer internship, third year of college. I was working at a firm in Hong Kong...”

As you told your story, it was like there were two of you.  The you telling this long, bragadocious story about your success and the you wondering why you were like this.  It only happened with him.  As you turned out of his arms to put the sausages on the vegan biscuits and assemble the sandwiches, you saw the look of wonder in Grayson’s eyes.

That was why you did it. It was the way he looked up to you that made you become this caricature of a successful business woman. 

You were older than him, but with his maturity level, you were both on the same level.  You both had successful businesses that involved you making big decisions that impacted people’s lives.  In fact, if he knew the real you, he would know that you could be quite childish and impulsive.  It was only at work did you become this confident and borderline arrogant control freak.  

You met Grayson through a work thing and you first hooked up a few nights after your initial meeting.  You could tell he idolized you and didn’t want to ruin his image of you. It was a lie you kept both in bed and outside of it.

“Here...” You handed him the plate and he looked surprised as if he didn’t work out that the two sandwiches were for both of you.

“Wow,” Grayson grinned. “I must have been really good last night if I get to stay the night and I get breakfast.”

He took the plate and sat at the kitchen island.  You grabbed your plate as well and put it next to his, but stayed standing next to him.

“You were pretty good,” You smirked. “...baby boy.”

Grayson growled and surprised you by wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing you strongly.  Your eyes remained wide open and stayed that way when Grayson broke the kiss.  His lustful gaze morphed into one of worry when he saw your expression.

“Sorry, I just...that name...” He ran his fingers through his hair. “...it drives me crazy. Hearing you call me that...you know...”

You looked at him.  You really looked at him.  It was like a Greek God was sitting naked on a stool at your kitchen table. His rippling tanned muscles, his large length, the dark glint in his eyes...how did you not realize it sooner...

“You’re usually pretty dominant in bed aren’t you?” You teased, pushing him lightly.

Grayson frowned at you. “What do you mean?”

“I mean...” You chuckled. “I usually boss you around, but you’re probably the one doing the commanding.”

Grayson licked his lips. “I guess you could say that.” He smiled softly. “I guess I just enjoy pleasuring you. I feel like you’re always doing things on others’ behalf, I figured it would be nice if someone did something for you.”

You blushed, taken aback by his comments. “You’re joking right? I’m known for being the bossiest person ever.”

“You?” Grayson chuckled. “No way! Everyone talks about how hard you work and how much of a visionary you are while still taking in all the feedback from your team. It’s why I admire you.”

“I thought you liked me because of my international success.” You said, softly almost bashfully.  It sounded stupid out loud.

Grayson looked at his plate to avoid your eyes. “I mean I do..., but I like you for more than just your work. I just like you...”

“Grayson...” You said in a tone that Grayson dreaded to hear.

He cut you off. “I know, okay? I know that you don’t see me that way.” He sighed. “I know I’m just your...boy toy.  I just can’t help that I have feelings for you. I mean you’re the only woman I want to be with.”

“Grayson...” You knew you shouldn’t be surprised, but you were.  Sure, he came at your beck and call, but you knew yoy weren’t the only girl he was hooking up with these days.  LA was small when it came to gossip.  However, he looked so sincere. Finally you said,  “...I’m too old for you.”

“What?!” Grayson yelled, making you jump. “No, you’re not!”

“Grayson, you should be with someone your own age.” You said with a soft smile.  “I’m just a boring old lady.”

“I don’t know many old ladies that has a trunk filled with sex toys in her closet.” Grayson teased.

You laughed. “It’s the 21st century, baby boy.” You punched his shoulder. “I’m serious, though. I’m sure you heard my past.  I haven’t had much luck in the relationship department. You should be with someone who is more fresh...not worn out goods.”

Grayson grabbed your wrist and looked at you intensely. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.  I know that those guys in your past were trash.  They were 10 to 20 years older than you and used you as a trophy. They didn’t see how amazing you are. They don’t see you like how I see you.” He gulped.  “Maybe we should give this a shot...it could be good for us.”

“Grayson...” You said, your tone clearly apprehensive.  “...I don’t know if we should put labels on it.”

“Labels or no labels...” Grayson said, pulling you closer to him. “This is the longest time we have sat here talking to each other without having sex despite me being butt naked and you looked amazing in my shirt. And how does it feel?”

You thought about it.  It felt comfortable.  When you weren’t trying to fit some weird vision for him, you felt really good.

“It feels good, Gray.” You sighed. “It feels really good, but you have to realize that I am not what you see in the bedroom all the time.”

“I honestly can’t wait to see all sides of you.” Grayson muttered as he nuzzled into your neck.  “I want to hold you when you cry.  I want to listen to you rant about work. I want to be the one to buy you champagne when your launch goes well.  I want to see all the sides of you, Y/N.  And I want you to see all the sides of me.”

“Fifty shades of Gray?” You offered, making him groan in annoyance.

“Wow, so original.” He rolled his eyes before he looked at you, hopefully. “So, what you say? Want to be official with me?”

“Okay, baby boy.” You kissed his forehead.  “Let’s be official.”

You yelped as he put you on his lap and gave you a peck on your lips. You giggled as he brought his plate closer and picked up his sandwich, his arms wrapping around you in the process.

“Grayson, you can’t eat like this.” You chastised him.

“Excuse me. Please don’t interrupt me while I eat the breakfast my girlfriend made me.” Grayson grinned, already liking the sound of that.

“Whatever,” You rolled your eyes.  You took the sandwich holding it so he got the first bite before taking a bit yourself, alternating between you two.

“I could get use to this...” Grayson said, almost in a whisper.

“Me too...” You whispered back, with a soft giggle.

[candlelight27]

Chapter 3: I Chase Your Shadow

Summary: Sylvain has been ignoring you since you met him. You had been in love with him since you met him. College is about to offer you a fresh start. New academic year, new life. You were ready to forget him. But fate seems to have other plans… (COLLEGE AU)

Series: Seeking Your Warmth If Only For A Day

Warnings: ATTEMPTED ASSAULT (!!!), Alcohol drinking, swear words, kissing

Pairings: Sylvain Jose Gautier x Female Reader

Word Count: 4907

AO3: I Chase Your Shadow

A/N:  I hope you enjoy this chapter! Thanks for reading and sticking by. And, as always, leave a comment if you have any suggestion, request, question or just feel like it! My asks are always open, too!

Sylvain 18:35: What are you wearing? 😉

Sylvain 18:36: Just kidding hahaha

Sylvain 18:36: Although I want to know what’s your costume

You held back a laugh reading Sylvain’s messages. He was truly something else.

You 18:37: Top secret

“Is he texting you again?”, Dorothea asked, mascara in hand. You couldn’t see her expression, but you certainly knew the corners of her lips were curling upwards.

“So what?”, you answered feigning weariness.

Your brunette friend was applying the finishing touches to her makeup in front of your bathroom mirror. There were cases, brushes, pencils, shadows and liners everywhere, all varying shades of red and nude. The living room was in the same situation because Mercedes and Annette had insisted on helping Ingrid get her Halloween costume ready. Ingrid complained, of course, since ‘knights didn’t wear make-up’, but who could ever deny Mercedes? Not you, and not Ingrid either.

You were sitting upon the lid of the toilet, observing Dorothea’s carful movements. You weren’t going all out like she did. You had a black dress that you liked and cheap fake blood you found on a trip to the supermarket – this hectic year you had no time to prepare.

“Nothing, nothing. It’s just…” She turned around, her emerald irises glistening. “You are totally at his mercy.”

“I’m not”, you furrowed your eyebrows.

“I thought I taught you well. But I guess that’s what happens when your first love strikes you…” She took the brightest shadow of red lipstick she could find in her purse and began applying it.

“That’s totally wrong!”, you protested, putting your phone a way to prove your point.

However, Dorothea was painfully right, as always. You had developed a soft spot for a certain redhead. In fact, you’d dare to say you hadn’t felt anything this intense for him before.

Had it been any other person, it wouldn’t be a problem. But it was Sylvain. The root of all evil. You didn’t trust him at all. Wasn’t it very suspicious that he all of a sudden was paying you attention? He might just want to hook up a couple of times and then disappear, because he had just ended his available catalogue of other women. Was he really like that? You’ve certainly seen him act like that. You’d better stay away from him. But what you felt around him had you addicted.

“So now you are telling me that if tonight he gets you cornered in a room at Hilda’s…” Dorothea lowered her voice, a husky whisper, to avoid the other girls from hearing her. “If he presses his – rather hot, not going to lie here – body against you and leans in all bothered… and then kisses you… you are going to say no. And then remain friends.”

“Yes!”, you lied with all the dignity you could muster.

“I don’t believe you!”, she shouted. In between laughs you threw at her a roll of toilet paper that moved her fake horns. “Stop! Don’t ruin my look, I’m almost finished.”

Dorothea faced you and fixed her cleavage. She was wearing a tight-fitting red dress made out of a velvet-like material, along with headband topped with red horns and a fake tail. The only thing she was missing was a trident.

“You make a good demon”, you commented, tilting your head.

“I’m a succubus. It’s not the same”, she pointed out.

“Of course.”

“Wait, what are you going to wear?”, she stepped closer to you. She inspected you from top to the bottom.

“This”, you stood up and gestured your own black dress with both hands.

“What?” She crossed her arms. “You need a costume!”

“I’m going to put on some fake blood too”, you answered. “I didn’t have time to prepare something else.”

“I’m already seeing the disappointment in Sylvain’s eyes.” She shook her head and tried to reach the doorknob. Then it hit you that you had been meaning to tell her something entirely different.

“Wait, Dorothea.”

“Yes?”, she seemed confused.

“I’ve been having nightmares lately. A lot of them.”

“About what?” Her tone was serious.

“It’s kind of weird.” You scratched your head. It was hard to put together all the scenes that appeared out of thin air at night. “The atmosphere is… like those movies Ingrid watches. But the characters are us. And there’s a war going on. There’s blood, death… I see everyone dying. And I dream that… someone with a speak goes right through my chest and I wake up with this unsettling pain where it hit.” You pointed the exact area.

“That’s worrying… Maybe you’ll have to see Manuela in the clinic.” She looked in deep thought. “Could it be the pressure from university?”

“Perhaps…”

You both went out of the bathroom to meet the other girls. Dorothea was watching you with the corner of her eye, and you feared that you might have worried her over nothing.  

“Dorothea, you are breathtaking!”, said Mercedes as she saw her.

“Thank you”, the brunette smiled. “You are not so bad yourself as a …nun?”

“I love this costume! It always scares all the kids”, she laughed. And you wouldn’t have expected less of the queen of ghost stories.

The sight of her was unsettling. There was dark paint all over under her eyes and her lips that formed a stark contrast with the white base underneath. On the other hand, Ingrid was dressed as a knight, as she did every year. No surprises there. She looked ready to go jousting in any moment. Annette was dressed in a black outfit, completed by car ears and whiskers.

“I love Halloween!”, Mercedes exclaimed. “It’s my favourite holiday. Should we try an Ouija board session?”

“No way”, said Annette with wide eyes.

“I’ll pass too”, added Dorothea.

“What a shame. I’m going to get a glass of water,” Mercedes announced. She then said your name. “Care to join me?”

“Sure.”

You could hear the muffled sound of the conversation in the living room from the kitchen. Your hand reached for a glass in the cabinet. You filled it with water and offered it to Mercedes. She politely muttered a thank you, and drunk it slowly, not taking her eyes off you.

“I wanted to talk to you about something”, she paused, prudent as always, waiting for your response.

“What about?” You leant against the counter.

“It’s about Sylvain.”

The fact was not unforeseen at all. However, the fact that it was Mercedes carrying the message was unusual. You hadn’t seen her step in anyone’s affairs, so it must be serious. You gulped.

“I’m all ears.”

“I’m not going to beat around the bush. He hates women.” You remained silent, waiting for her explanation. “I’m her friend, and I’ve been for a long time. And I’ve had a lot of conversations with him… When a woman shows any interest in him, he thinks they’re after his family’s fortune, that they just want to brag of their relationship.”

“And what should I do with that information?” You said sceptically. You already knew all of that – you weren’t blind – but you didn’t see where she was going.

“I think you should be aware in case you are pursuing a romantic relationship with him.” She breathed in deeply. “I’m not saying he’s a bad person – I don’t think he is –, but he isn’t precisely nice when it comes to his girlfriends. Apparently he hasn’t always been like this… There were a few girls who took advantage of him, confirmed his fears, and now he feels entitled to use people as he wants. He can be the worst. And I’m afraid your feelings are pretty serious.”

“I’m not-”

“I don’t want him to break your heart. Even if you are made for each other, even if he seems completely in love with you, be careful. Anything can happen, because people who have been hurt often hurt others too.” She diverted her gaze.

“Are you telling me that I should just forget him?”

“I can’t tell you what to do, I just can give you my point of view. I don’t think he’s incapable of love… When he talks about you, he’s all happy and true. I’d never seen him like that. But I’ve also seen so many girls that tried to change him and failed…”  

“That’s… hard to process,” you replied as you let out a nervous giggle. “But I think I can’t just move on.”

“Whatever you do, I’ll be here, okay?” Mercedes touched your shoulder lightly. “Let’s head back.”

 The sky was dark and the moon was full. Your group walked down the main street to go to Hilda’s home, which was the closest to the campus. Her parents weren’t home, so she and Holst thought it would be a great idea to throw a party. None complained. Almost everyone you knew in high school was invited.

You weren’t exactly nervous. But Sylvain was going to be there and, even though there was some excitement within you, your mind was too busy second-guessing yourself and arousing doubt.

“What did Mercedes say?”, Dorothea whispered when the other three girls were distracted. She was always on the lookout for some gossip, just like Claude.

“She just wanted to warn me about the fact that Sylvain hates women,” you rolled your eyes.

“Well, it’s not untrue.” She smiled. “I’m sure she had good intentions.”

“I know, Dorothea. But it only makes me feel worse hearing it from the only person who had ever defended him.”

“Did it change anything though?” She placed her hand on your back Sympathetically.

“That’s the problem, it didn’t.”

“My poor baby.” She caressed your arm. “You look tired.”

“It must be the nightmares”, you concluded. “I couldn’t sleep that much yesterday.”

“Have fun today, will you? Everything will turn out fun if you do what your heart tells you.”

“That’s unexpectedly non-cynical coming from you”, you remarked, a smirk forming.

“Shush. You love me.” You hummed in agreement.

“Dorothea?”, Annette called her, turning around to locate her. “Where is Petra?”

“I still haven’t met her!”, exclaimed Ingrid.

“She must be already there! She went with Edelgard and Hubert,” answered Dorothea. “At first I wanted her to spend more time with other people but now I’m starting to miss the first few weeks when we were always together!”

As you arrived, Hilda opened the door. Her long, pink hair was tied back in a pony tail. She wore a white, lacy dress, and despite the beautiful eyeliner, she was kind of blue and had scars drawn all over her. You guessed she was a zombie bride. She had that sweet and satisfied smile of hers and a beer can on one of her delicate hands.

“Welcome, welcome! Come in! There’s a lot of people who will come later but we’ve already started. Ah, Petra’s waiting for you, Dorothea,” she said as she let you in the house.

“I’ll find her,” she said as she disappeared into the luxurious house. “Thanks!”

Mercedes, Anette and Ingrid entered too. Hilda was waiting for you, the last on line, on the doorframe. She winked at you.

“And you… Sylvain is coming in half an hour…”, she coyly remarked. “He’s coming with Felix, Dimitri and their brothers.”

“And that’s important because…?”, you played dumb.

“Not my business. Claude said that I should let you know”, she smirked. “Come in, let’s have a drink.”

 Hilda hadn’t lied. The music was roaring, and all the rooms were filled with people occupying themselves in the entailments of a party. Right after you greeted everyone, when you were the tiniest bit tipsy, you saw Sylvain arrive, along with Dimitri and Felix. He commented something to his brother, Miklan, who went away with Glenn, leaving the trio alone. Sylvain’s brother looked angry and aggressive – the opposite of the atmosphere of the place, and you had a bad feeling about him. He was known for causing trouble, but you hoped Glenn and Holst could keep him at bay.

Felix and Dimitri weren’t wearing anything remarkable. Dimitri, a white shirt on his torso and a plastic sword on hand, took advantage of his eyepatch to look like a pirate, while Felix had a scary-looking mask on. Quite the opposite was their redhead friend. He was wearing a cliché vampire costume, cloak and fangs included. His white shirt was unbuttoned halfway. It was totally in character for Sylvain.

“Admiring the prey?”, Claude’s voice resonated on you back, startling you.

“Claude, are you a furry?”, you laughed as you saw him.

“I’m the big bad wolf!”, he deadpanned. “You forgot to say hi to your sweetheart, by the way.” He whispered, then yelled. “Hey, Sylvain!”

“Claude!” Sylvain waved him. However, when his eyes met your form, he turned serious. He acknowledged you with a nod. You wanted to approach him, but you were unsettled.

Right before you could do anything else, the Almyran grabbed your arm and muttered a ‘let’s go’. Both of you disappeared into a corridor filled with portraits of Hilda’s family members that led to the kitchen. Right before going into your destination, you stopped.

“What are you doing?”, you asked.

“We’re going to play never have I ever with Hilda in the kitchen”, he smiled.

“What’s with all the rush? She’s not going anywhere, it’s her house.” You withdrew from him. “Besides, I thought you wanted me to greet Sylvain.”

“We’re setting the trap, don’t worry,” he winked. “Sylvain’s going to fall onto your arms tonight.”

“No, no, no”, you stated. Mercedes’ words resonated in your head, which further entangled all your thoughts about anything related to Sylvain. “No romance today. It’s a bad idea,” you said unconvinced.

“I think you are not telling everything to me, but it’s happening. I have a sixth sense for that.” You grimaced. “Don’t believe me? Then let’s bet! If by 2 a.m. you have kissed him, you’ll give me your dessert for three weeks.”

“And if I win?” It seemed easy, right? Just stay away from Sylvain all night, and there wouldn’t be any trouble.

“I’ll take you on a date”, he affirmed without hesitation. It shocked you that he wanted a date.

“It seems like a win-win for you.”

“I’ll also give you my dessert, okay?” he sighed.

“Seems fair, I guess.” You shrugged.

“Are you sure about that?” He smiled mysteriously, went into the kitchen and, being the natural at social gatherings he was, took a shot glass and filled it to the brim.

There were a lot of Hilda and Claude’s classmates partaking in the game, while your other friends were scattered throughout the multiple rooms. Holst, dressed as the zombie groom to his little sister, popped in from time to time to either get more booze or control the situation.

The hours passed by and you lost track of all the people you were interacting with, but everyone seemed very cheerful. There were a lot of sweets – it was Halloween after all – and pizza. You remembered that at some point you shared a conversation with Petra after those booze games, and she talked a lot about Brigid and how she missed it.

Another highlight was when you heard a ruckus about someone trying to contact spirits with a makeshift Ouija. You suspected it was Mercedes trying to scare anyone. And Hilda held a costume contest where the only judge was herself and the main price was helping her with her homework. Many people participated. There were films playing in the living room and techno music coming from upstairs. Petra and Dorothea were stuck together all the time, which was a little weird for you since your brunette friend used parties as a way to find a good catch. All in all, everyone seemed to be having fun.

Perched in the safety of a sofa with Claude and Dimitri – who, by the way, didn’t dare to speak with you out of shyness -, you were having a marathon of the worst gore-horror-sci-fi movies you could find. As time passed, you observed there were couples sneaking away, going to Sothis-know-where, and some of them came back dishevelled, others simply vanished.

You watched the clock. 1:56 a.m. No sight of Sylvain. You wanted with all your heart to look for him and talk because you hadn’t interacted with him yet. Maybe there was no harm in that. Claude had been following you like a lost puppy all night, so it had been easy to ignore the urge, but now… The youngest of the Gautier brothers had been talking to older girls, passing right next to where you were. You almost dared to say he was trying to make you jealous.

You stood up and went to another lounge where there was music. Incredibly, Felix was dancing with Anette. You guessed Sylvain could be there.

But then you stopped in your tracks. You spotted your prince charming. He was with a blonde girl who caressed his cheek with her fingers. He whispered something in her ear, she took his hand and led him outside.

Your heart flopped. That was it, wasn’t it? Game over.

Dorothea came out of the room and bumped into you.

“Did you know I haven’t seen Ingrid in like an hour? I think she left with Ashe and-”. She cut her sentence. “Are you okay?”, asked Dorothea, focusing her attention on you. Petra was behind her.

“Yes, why?”

“You look like you are about to cry,” the girl from Brigid said.

“I feel like I’m going to throw up,” you lied. “I’m going to the bathroom. Be back in a minute.”

“May I go with you?”, Claude, who had followed you, intervened.

“No, I’m fine”, you lied again. You were tired of lying. “Don’t worry.”

You went away and tried to navigate to the bathroom. Maybe you could spill some tears or at least splash some water on your face. You traversed the enormity of Hilda’s home, your mind a bit cloudy with the drink and the disappointment, yet overall you were sobered up. Keeping it together in a crowded place was a real challenge, more when you had to smile to the people you knew as you passed them by, but you managed just fine.

You bumped into some shoulders, did what you could to reach the white door at the what seemed the most remote corner of the hall.  

Once in the bathroom, you looked at yourself in the mirror.

What were you going to do? You were ready to go home. Or you could take what Dorothea once said literally and ask Claude to sneak away with you. Yet, you scratched that possibility right away. It wouldn’t be fair for any of you. If you just could have gotten into your head what Mercedes said and sticked to your original plan, you’d be fine, having the time of your life with your friends. Instead, your doomed heart yearned for him in a way you couldn’t undo.

There was a black hole in your stomach. It seemed that your desperation grew the further he was from you.

Why were you surprised? It was inevitable that it happened. Everyone said so, everyone thought so. Were you for real harbouring the empty hope that he would choose you? Or that he even wanted you? He was just being nice. It seemed clearer now.

As you sunk in your despair and confusion, the door of the bathroom opened.

“It’s occupied!”, you exclaimed. Still, the figured entered without any care and closed the door with a loud hit.

“You were taking too long.”

That rough voice… You turned around. It was Miklan. He wasn’t wearing any costume, and had the same expression than before. His eyes were cold, his stare calculated. His presence was eerie, turning on all your alarms.

“Miklan, get out.” You were still, as if treating a wild animal. “I need to use the toilet.”

“You know me?” He said very pleased with himself.

“We were in the same high-school,” you reminded him

“I see.” He smiled, and you got goosebumps. “I’ve observed you all night.”

“Why?”

“My bother hasn’t got his eyes off you. So, I took an interest in you.”

“If you haven’t notice, he’s gone away somewhere with a busty girl,” you passed him, trying to get out of there. “So, it’s quite useless to play now the dutiful older brother or-”

“You could have some fun with me instead.” He grabbed your arm. So that’s what he wanted. “I’m not an asshole like him.”

“You are acting like one right now.” You tried to force your arm free, but it was useless. “Let me go.”

“Why Sylvain and not me?”, he grunted. His breathing was becoming heavier as his irritation grew. “If it was him and not me, you’d gladly fuck me here.”

Suddenly, you remembered your last nightmare. It was about Miklan. He had turned into some kind of black monster before your eyes. It had horrified you, and everyone who was around you. Sylvain was next to you during that dream, trembling, as his brother’s features were consumed by darkness. The dream had felt so real. You woke up in panic, cold sweat, breathing with difficulty.

“Go away, Miklan”, you said with anger. He leant in.

“Or what?”

Then, out of instinct, you punched him in the face as hard as you could. As he covered his scarred nose, which was then bleeding, you run away from the bathroom.

“Bitch!”, he yelled.

You run a few meters before crashing into a solid body. He was talking to you, but you were focused on escaping. You assumed he was your Almyran shadow for the night.

“Claude, let’s go. Now.”

“Claude?” Oh shit. It was Sylvain’s voice. You turned around to see his confused features. Why did he look so sad for no apparent reason?

“Sylvain?”. You were disconcerted. Wasn’t he gone?

Thereupon, his brother appeared around the corner. He had blood smeared on his face and he was red with anger. You had done a good number on him. You felt safer, because you were surrounded by people.

“Go away, Sylvain. I’ve got some unfinished business with that whore”, he said as he came closer to both of you, slow like a predator. Sylvain pushed you behind him, but you could see the gleam of fear in his eyes. Miklan terrified him.

“Fuck you,” you retorted to Miklan.

“I swear if you did something, I’ll-” Began Sylvain, but thankfully he didn’t have to finish.

“Time to go away, buddy.”

You had never been gladder to see Glenn, the only human who had been able to control Miklan – or so it was said. Behind him, Holst and Balthus, a school drop-out you had only heard about, stood like two bodyguards.

Still, the older Gautier considering fighting them. You could almost hear his thoughts. But, in the last moment, he relaxed.

“Goodbye, losers”, he huffed, then made a beeline for the exit. “Not like I’m going to see any of you fuckers ever again.”

“Are you okay?”, Holst asked you, worried. “You have a red mark on your wrist. And your knuckles have blood.”

“I’m fine. It’s his.” You were so relieved.

“That was a really good punch! A piece of art on his face,” told you Balthus with pride. He seemed like a good guy, but way too violent for your taste. “Take that as a compliment from the King of Grappling!” You nodded politely.

“He’s going to a military school tomorrow. We thought he’d do the least harm if he felt…included. Not the case. If you need anything…” Glenn explained with a serious tone.

“It’s fine, really.”

“Can I speak to you in private?”, Sylvain got into the conversation.

“I’m fucking done with the Gautier brothers today, thank you.” You escaped from the men to look for the backyard to get some fresh air. Yet Sylvain, not giving up, chased you.

“I’m sorry”, he said. He was suffering too, but you chose to ignore that. “Really. Miklan just tries to take everything from me, so he must have thought-”

“That I was your girlfriend? That’s ridiculous.” You didn’t stop, your aim right in front of you. You didn’t see that his lips formed a straight line as soon as the words left your mouth.

“The thing is, he wanted to hurt you in order to hurt me.”

“That’s unfortunate then! Had he known you were out there fucking anyone that crossed your way, he would have left me alone!” You felt the cold breeze when you stepped out of the building. “I don’t understand why he didn’t bother any of your flings!”

“For your information, I wasn’t fucking anyone.” Sylvain closed the doors behind him. You moved to face him, since he didn’t seem to be going away any soon, so you’d better get everything out of your chest. It might do the job and reconcile your emotions.

“I don’t need to know, Sylvain. It’s your life, enjoy it as you want.” There was poison in your voice, but you couldn’t contain the raw emotions that controlled you.

“I want you to know! She was shitfaced and wouldn’t separate from me, so I called her a taxi.” He crossed his arms. “Why are you acting like that anyways? You and Claude seemed to be having too much fun to notice anything I did.”

“What are you talking about?”, you replied with indignation.

“All those touches and laughing. He does the same in class and you let him do whatever he wants. And then you come and text me as if you were interested in me! Do you kiss him when you’re alone?” He was approaching you, seeking the confrontation. You didn’t yield.

“You’ve lost it Sylvain.” You were so close, you were almost touching. Your faces were mere inches from each other. “I’m not the one who uses people as he wants and then leave them! Why are you so jealous? I’m just another girl in the count, you can easily replace me!”

“You have no idea what you are talking about!”, he shouted.

“Then explain it! Is it that fucking difficult?”

“It is! I’m trying to tell you, but you won’t listen! I could never replace you!”

At last, you surrendered to your heart.

You moved towards him and kissed him. It was like a weight lifted from your body. His lips were soft and warm, a hearth during winter. You clung onto his cheap costume, for you wanted to feel his warmth as close as you could.

It took him a few seconds to get back to his senses, but when he did, he turned the kiss into a fierce one, tainted with desperation. He placed one of his hands against the back of your neck, the other around your waist. You were perfectly anchored to him. His touch was exquisite, soft, as if you were a porcelain doll. You opened your mouth, caressed his with your tongue. You decided he was your favourite flavour, and that you’d never get tired of kissing him. He was experienced, determined, and knew what to do to turn you on beyond limit.

He lifted your body and pressed you against the wall. You wrapped your legs around his waist. He muttered a blasphemy. The next thing you felt, was his tongue back in your mouth. He was desperate to try your taste, to satiate the hunger that had been consuming him. You moved your hips, just in the slightest manner, because nothing he did was enough.

“We should stop,” he said, your taste lingering on his lips.

“Why?”

“We’re drunk. We were arguing.” You giggled. He wished he could hear that sound every day of his life. You disentangled your members from him and placed your feet on the floor, although he didn’t let go your waist.

“Don’t mess with me anymore Sylvain. Be clear. Don’t lie to me,” you pleaded.

“Okay.” He closed his eyes. “I tried to have sex with that girl before.”

“Oh”

“I was jealous of Claude. But I swear I didn’t do anything in the end.” His light brown eyes opened and gazed you sincerely.  “I called a taxi for her, I didn’t lie.”

“What happened?” You asked softly.

“I was thinking about you. As I was crossing the door, I regretted everything and… Well, I put her in the car and went in again.” He sighed. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“You got me right here and now,” you reminded him.

“I don’t want to spoil this like I almost did.”

“You won’t spoil anything if you tell me the truth.” You sounded calm, but you were a wreck on the inside. “I can stand it if it’s just a one-night stand. Just… don’t lie to me. Tell me what I am to you.”

“Please, believe in me. Please.” You could hear now how he slurred his syllables. He was right, neither of you were in the best condition to do anything.

“Why do you think I will?”

“Because you’re here with me right now. No one else has ever believed in me. Not even myself.” You caressed his cheek.

“Sylvain…”

“I promise you I will explain everything tomorrow. My intentions, my behaviour… I’m just asking that you believe all that I say and don’t give up on me.” He stared at you, waiting patiently for your answer.

“Okay, Sylvain. I promise.”

[girls-scenarios]

Eyes On You

Idol: Yves (Loona)

Prompt: scenario where yves and reader have been on the same dance team since they started college. when school starts up again in year 3, yves somehow got 10x hotter and the reader can’t pay attention during practice bc they keep staring at yves who pretends not to notice. after a few practices go the same, yves can’t take it and asks the reader why the hell they keep staring thank you^-^ and sorry if this isn’t much to work with :)

Writer: Admin Kiwi

A/N: Don’t worry, this was plenty to work with! I’m so bad at titles but I hope you enjoy what I came up with!

♡ Tip Jar♡

The change hadn’t necessarily been on purpose. Most of the things Yves did, she did on a whim. She decided she didn’t like her hair anymore, so she cut and colored it. She was bored during the summer, so she decided to start building a bit of muscle by working out more than normal. She saw some weird jawline device on Amazon and bought it out of curiosity. Her friend introduced her to a new makeup line, and she decided to pay more attention to makeup as a new hobby. In her eyes, she hadn’t changed that much. Even if her friends told her she looked hot, she thought they were just being nice. She hardly noticed the sharper jawline and how it looked with her new cut and color, or how her abs and muscles had gotten more toned.

In fact, she didn’t really notice anything until the semester started up again and she walked into dance team practice only for everyone to turn and stare.

“You colored you hair,” one of the girls, Seungyeon, said in surprise, her eyebrows raised. “You look really good.”

“Thanks? I mean, it was just something I decided to do.” She shrugged off their surprise. Really, it wasn’t that big of a deal. “I’m glad I made a good decision, though.”

“Well, you look great,” commented another girl, Lisa, sending her a smile. Yves returned the favor.

“So do you. I love the new haircut.”

“Did I miss the memo that we were all cutting our hair this summer?” Momo asked, touching her long dark hair. “You know, maybe it is time for a cut.” As she stood up, the rest of the room began to chatter, and Yves let out a sigh of relief. Good, the awkward stares had passed.

As she walked over to put her bag away, though, she felt eyes on her again. Turning around, she caught you staring at her, and her heart skipped a beat. You quickly looked away, cheeks flushing slightly, but her mouth immediately went dry and her mind began to race. Wait, why were you blushing? You’d never done that before! Maybe her makeover really had been a big deal....

“No,” she whispered to herself, knocking herself out of it and quickly putting away her things. That was stupid. You were just surprised like everyone else. It would wear off eventually and the two of you would go back to normal. After all, she’d known you for two years now. Why would you suddenly change because of a makeover? That didn’t make any sense. You were just shocked. That was why you’d blushed.

“Finish putting your things away and chatting,” called Chanmi, the team leader, clapping her hands and fixing the room with an intense stare. She always looked intense. “We’ve got some catching up to do after the break!”

Quickly, Yves grabbed her water bottle and walked over to her usual seat, which just happened to be beside you. As she sat down, she gave you a cool smile. “Hello again (Y/N). How was your summer?”

“Good,” you said, and the blush was gone. Yep. She’d been imagining things. “I wish it had been longer.”

“I get that.”

“How was yours?”

“Boring. That’s why I cut my hair and everything. To have something to do.”

You laughed and looked at the floor. Huh, the air felt awkward somehow. “That’s a good enough reason, I guess.”

“Okay, enough talking! Let’s go let’s go!” At Chanmi’s call, both of you quickly stood up and walked over the the middle of the room to begin warm-ups. For some reason, though, the awkwardness didn’t go away, and Yves felt eyes on her once again, watching her as she went through her warm-up routine.

When she looked back, you quickly averted your eyes, but it was obvious that it had been you. Her heart once again skipped a beat and she turned away, focusing on Chanmi instead even though she felt confused. What was going on?

-

“Isn’t this a good thing?” Jinsoul, her roommate, looked up from her textbook to where Yves was sitting on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. “Haven’t you had a crush on (Y/N) since you first met them?”

“Well, yes,” Yves said, letting out a sigh, “but I’m just confused. It feels weird. I don’t know why they’ve suddenly changed. I mean, for two years we’ve been just friends and they’ve never shown any want to change that. But now, all of a sudden, they started staring at me. That’s weird!”

“I guess I understand where you’re coming from.” Jinsoul hummed and spun around in her chair, pressing her pencil against her lips. “Maybe they’e just surprised?”

“Why?”

“Because you got hot,” Jinsoul stated bluntly. “Not like you weren’t attractive before, but you managed to get even hotter over the break. Maybe they were just surprised when they first saw you.”

Yves didn’t feel very convinced, but she slowly nodded her head. “I mean, maybe. But would you stare at a friend like that just because you were surprised?”

“I don’t know, I might. I’ve stared at people when I was surprised before. Remember when Olivia went through her goth phase and got a lip piercing in high school? I stared a lot at that.”

“But that’s something crazy.”

“Maybe you cutting and coloring your hair is crazy to them.”

“I doubt it....”

“Worrying isn’t going to get you anywhere, Yves.” Jinsoul reached into her backpack and fished around for a moment before pulling out a bag of half-eaten gummy bears and tossing it onto the bed. “There, feel better.”

“Candy isn’t going to make me any less confused,” Yves said, but grabbed the bag anyways, settling back onto her bed. “But I guess I can’t really do anything.”

“It’ll probably just blow over, I wouldn’t worry about it.” Her roommate turned back to her homework, leaving Yves to sigh and dig into her gummy bears. She was right, it would probably just blow over. But that didn’t make it any easier to ignore.

-

It didn’t blow over, and you didn’t go back to normal. Instead, you continued to star, stumbling over your own feet whenever Yves so much as looked at you and forgetting the steps more than usual. Having eyes constantly watching her made her self-conscious, even more so than usual, and she found herself almost dreading practice, despite loving to dance. Even the coolest of people couldn’t concentrate on dancing when their crush of a few years was staring at them the entire time. It was too unnerving.

She still went to practice (she was afraid of what Chanmi would do to her if she didn’t) but she tried to be a bit late and to leave early in order to stay out of your way. When she saw you on one side of the practice room, she’d head to the other, and when she saw you doing stretches, she would go back to the lockers to fix an invisible problem with her hair or clothes. As strange as it was to avoid a friend, she couldn’t help it.

You were beginning to drive her crazy. And she couldn’t take the staring anymore.

-

When she walked into the practice room on an off day to find it empty except for you, she almost turned around and walked right back out. But that would make it too obvious that she was avoiding you, and she didn’t want that either. So she swallowed and walked in, giving you an awkward smile and nod.

“Hey. Getting in some extra practice?” She asked, trying to keep everything nonchalant as she placed down her bag. Your eyes dug into her body again as you turned around.

“Trying to. I’ve been slipping up a lot recently.”

“Same here.” She didn’t tell you that it was because of your eyes that she was messing up. Instead, she bent down to tie her shoe, hoping that you would turn around and go back to practicing.

But you didn’t. You just stared. And she’d had enough.

“Okay,” she said with a sigh, standing up and crossing her arms. “Enough is enough, (Y/N).”

You startled, your eyes widening. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean! The staring!” She threw her hands into the air. “I can hardly focus because you’re always there watching me instead of the dance. It’s driving me crazy and I can’t take it anymore. Please just stop. Why are you doing this?”

Your face flushed a deep red and you stuttered for a minute before hanging your head, staring at the ground for once instead of her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was getting on your nerves.”

“How would you like it if someone was watching your every move during practice?”

“It would make me feel weird,” you admitted, looking guilty. “But I couldn’t help it. You somehow got even hotter from when I last saw you. I just couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

She flushed, but tried to keep her cool. She was annoyed, not flattered. Annoyed. “I cut and colored my hair and maybe learned how to do a bit of makeup. So what? Big deal! I’m still Yves! You’ve known me for two years. Is this little change really so shocking?”

“Yes!” You locked eyes with her again. “I-I mean, I’ve always thought you were attractive, don’t get me wrong, but when you came in that first day I was so attracted to you that I could hardly think. I can’t help staring, you just catch my eye. I can’t help it.”

Her blush grew deeper. “Um. What does that mean? Does it mean what I think it means?”

“Maybe.” You were blushing deeper too now, and she awkwardly tucked her hair behind her ears, needing something to do with her hands. This was too awkward. “If you think it means that I like you, then yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, sorry if you don’t like that.”

“No, I do! It’s just a lot to process.” She coughed, not knowing what else to do. “I mean, I like you too. I’ve had a crush on you since I met you.”

“Whoa, really?”

“Yep.”

“That’s crazy.” The two of you stood in the empty practice room, staring at each other and blushing like crazy. Then you laughed and put your face in your hands. “I can’t believe this. All this time, I could have been dating you?”

Yves laughed too, her heart pounding in her chest. “I mean, you can still date me now. If you promise to stop the staring.”

“I’ll stop,” you immediately promised. “Except for maybe when we’re alone. You’re breathtaking, do you know that?”

“Thank you. I think you’re really attractive yourself.” She grinned. The practice studio no longer seemed so intimidating, and she was so glad she’d stayed on the dance team. “So, what do you say to a first date? I heard the new taco place on campus is both cheap and yummy.”

“I could never say no to spending time with you. And to cheap tacos.”

“Then it’s a date!”

[skzhrs]

Bad Boy - Chan x Reader Smut AU

Switch!Chan, Fem!Reader, Degradation, Drinking, One Night Stand, 3.6k

Chan, AKA Chris Bang, is the playboy of the school. What happens when his goody two shoes desk partner, Y/N, manages to undo him?

You stare at the whiteboard, watching as your teacher makes dainty strokes of icy blue with her pen. The Expo marker leaves slick trails of color, the beryl hues weaving themselves into a mess of quadratic functions and systematic equations.

"So," she tsks, writing a simplified set of variables, "we get 3x after subtracting 7x from 10x, and then we have a slope we can use to-"

Everyone's heads gradually turn as the classroom door opens, and a broad shouldered boy with platinum blonde hair steps inside. His narrow eyes possess a mischievous glint, the edges of his paper thin lips tilted upwards in a snarky smirk. Stomping the muddy snow from his sneakers, Chris Bang lets the door swing shut behind him as he hands the teacher a tardy note.

"Hi, Chris," she says, less than pleased. "We're discussing functions and equations with three variables. Take out your notes, please."

"Alright," he bites his lip as he paces towards his seat in the back of the classroom.

"Actually," our teacher pipes up, "how about you sit up here? I want to make sure you take extra good notes to make up for what you missed." 

Heat rushes to your cheeks as you see the only empty spot in the front is the chair adjacent to yours. Your large desk that normally seats two is just half full. Chris glances at the teacher, then at you, and walks towards your space, placing his sagging black backpack on the desk.

"Much better," she smiles. "So, after eliminating 7x from the equation, we can see that we have a fairly easy equation left over: 3x equals 12x. After dividing both sides by 3, we can conclude that x is equal to 4."

Chris pulls out a tattered notebook, the cardboard cover ripped in places, and grabs a mechanical pencil from the spiral wires that barely keep the paper sheets together. He flips to a blank page while you scoot a bit closer to him. Although you have never had a serious infatuation with Chris Bang, his edgy sense of humor and stunning looks have always made you swoon. Just a little bit. You've never considered what it'd be like to really date him and you're pretty sure you wouldn't want that, but the idea of him just slamming you against the wall and melding your lips together, running his coarse fingertips over your bare skin, gave you chills.

"Okay," you murmur under your breath, pushing your notebook towards his. "You can copy my notes if you want."

"Thanks," he replies softly, his raspy voice still hoarse from a good night's sleep. Squeezing your legs together, you smile and try to contain the knot in your stomach. He's ethereal. 

He's crazy. He's a rebel. He makes the worst jokes at the worst times and he's all about partying and living life to the fullest. He's a bad student and overall a bad example.

And yet, he still fascinates you.

"Sure," you say, cheeks red. "If you need help, just ask me."

"Okay," he smiles in return. The way his eyes crinkle and the shape of his lips as they stretch across his teeth and how his skin folds mesmerizes you, and you find it hard to pull away from his enchanting gaze. But you do, focusing on your teacher.

"I'm going to pass out a page of problems for you and your partner to work on," she announces, pacing to her desk. Her heels click on the linoleum as she retrieves a stack of papers and hands one to each student. "You have the rest of the class period to do these. Anything that isn't completed by the end of class is homework."

You write your name on your assignment, and glance over at Chris, who has idly pulled out his phone. He scrolls through Instagram without a care in the world.

"Why were you late?" you ask daringly, and he looks at you. His eyes glimmer in the fluorescent lighting.

"Slept through my alarm," he shrugs, setting his phone down. "I stayed up pretty late last night."

"Doing what? Playing Fortnite?" You laugh through that last question.

"No," he rolls his eyes through a sarcastic smirk. "I was at a party."

"On a Thursday night?"

"It's never too early to party," he assures you. "I'm going to another one tonight, at Felix's house. You should come with."

"Maybe I will," you shoot back, a smile on your face. 

"You should," he repeats, edging closer. Your legs touch, and you can smell the faint aroma of mint and possibly alcohol on his breath. "It'll be fun."

"Wait," you shake your head, "are you hungover?"

"What? No, I hardly drank last night. Now that's reserved for Friday nights." You can barely tell if he's joking or not, but through your ecstasy and his intoxicating charm, you don't really care.

"Where's Felix's house?" you inquire, leaning against the desk.

"Oh shit, are you really gonna come?" His eyes widen at that.

"I might," you shrug, using your seemingly nonchalant attitude to hopefully convince him that, despite being the good kid who regularly gets good grades and has a good family and a good reputation, you can be daring when you need to be. You aren't 100% pure. For some reason, you want to prove that to Chris. You want to show Chris who you can be.

"Sweet, okay," he turns on his phone again and scrolls through a selection of apps before opening something. "It's at 328 Huckleberry Drive. Big beige house. White pillars on the porch."

"So, it's a mansion," you jeer.

"Pretty much," Chris shrugs. As his arms move, the sleeve of his jacket catches your pencil and pushes it onto the floor. "Oh, shit, sorry."

"It's fine," you assure him, bending down to grab the utensil. You pass uncomfortably close to his crotch, and as you grasp the pencil and return to a normal sitting position, your eyes skirt over his lower half.

And you definitely notice the tight bulge that threatens to poke through his denim jeans.

A wave of embarrassment cloaks your face in a bright shade of burgundy and you purse your lips, hurriedly looking away and staring at your paper.

Should you tell him? Does he even know?

"Uh," you murmur, awkward tension suffocating your lungs. "You've got a, uh, situation." You nod towards his groin. Chris glances down, and immediately crosses his legs.

"Hmm," he scoffs, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. "Would you look at that?"

"Trust me, I already saw it," you say, somewhat enjoying his embarrassment. Even if he tries to hide it, you can see he's flustered.

It's oddly cute.

"You wanna help me out?" Chris shoots a suggestive wink at you, wiggling his eyebrows. You shake your head with a lighthearted smile, nudging his shoulder.

"Very funny."

However, his expression doesn't falter. It takes you a moment before you realize he isn't joking. At least, he isn't fully joking.

"Wait," you close your eyes. Is this real? "Chris, we're in class, for God's sake."

"So you're not saying you don't want to-"

"Oh my God," you smirk. "Shut up. Maybe some other time." Like him, you are only half kidding.

Something is pulling you towards Chris Bang. A spark goes off when you're in his presence. And you love it.

The bell rings, and you stand, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. But before you leave the class, you feel Chris's veiny hand on your wrist and all of a sudden, his lips are brushing your ear.

"I really want you to come to the party tonight."

You pull away gently, staring at the lustful boy. A sly grin manifests itself on your face.

"We'll see."

***

Because Huckleberry Drive is just a few blocks away from your home, you choose to walk to the party. Wearing a silky, scarlet dress that brushes your knees, adorned with gemstones, you make your way to the address Chris gave you. Your silver heels clink on the sidewalk, as you follow the loud music wafting through the night sky. Even while putting on your makeup, you could faintly hear the sound of music blaring in the distance. 

You knew that the party was probably going to lead to...other things. And you weren't against it, by any means. While sitting with Chris in class, you felt something you hadn't felt in a long time. You wanted him. And his behavior suggested that he wanted you too.

So, you dolled yourself up. You wore the most elegant yet sexy shade of lipstick you owned. You wore luscious mascara and donned a layer of eyeliner and smoky eye shadow. You put on perfume, the tantalizing scent of rose filling the room.

And as you make your way to Felix's house, you feel a sudden burst of confidence overwhelm you. You're ready to slay at that party. You're ready to drop jaws. You're ready to show everyone who you can be.

And as you step into the mansion, feeling the music shake you to your core, and as you feel several pairs of eyes on you, drinking in your appearance, you smile to your self.

You're ecstatic.

"Hey," Felix beams, holding a red cup. "Didn't expect to see you here. And you look great!"

"Thanks," you smile. "I didn't expect to be here either. But a friend of mine convinced me to come."

"Ah, was it Chris? He's been talking about you nonstop." Felix takes a sip from his drink, sighing as he swallows the beverage.

"Has he?" You raise an eyebrow, amused.

"Yeah," he replies, a smirk growing on his face. "All good things. Trust me."

"Good to know," you say. "What are you drinking? Beer?"

"A bit," he shrugs. "Not drunk yet. I doubt I'll get drunk. Maybe buzzed, but not drunk. You want some?" Felix hands the frothy drink to you.

"Sure." You take it from his tiny hand and sip from the cup. By no means is it good. But it's invigorating. And so, you drink some more.

"Easy, easy," Felix grins. "This your first time drinking?"

"No," you reply truthfully. "I hold my alcohol pretty well."

"An admirable trait," he smiles. "I'll go get another drink. Feel free to keep that one."

"Thank you," you say as he smiles in return, disappearing into the raging crowd. You pace to the wall, standing near the hall as you drink. Soon enough, your cup is empty. And you can feel the alcohol pulsing in your veins. You're not drunk. But you aren't sober either.

"My God," you hear a familiar voice rasp. You turn, and see Chris gaping at your outfit, lips parted in awe. Smiling, you lean against the cream colored walls,

"Nice party," you beam, knowing that you're driving him crazy.

"Mm," he murmurs, stepping closer to you. His hands wrap around your hips, his touch tender. "Fuck, you're gorgeous."

"Thanks, you too," you wink, prideful. He gazes into your eyes, occasionally glancing at your ruby lips.

"You know," he says quietly, gently guiding you to a sofa by the hallway door frame, "I could barely control myself during Algebra today."

"Oh yeah?" He sits down, never releasing his grip on your waist. You situate yourself on his thigh, feeling his jeans on your bare skin.

"Yep," he breathes out, breath shaky. He lowers his head, massaging your skin through your dress. "God. You're driving me crazy."

You smile to yourself. "Good." Readjusting your position, you slowly move on his leg, and watch as he bites his lip to suppress sound. You let your fingers dance across his shirt, moving up his neck until you grasp his jaw. "You like that?"

He exhales loudly, staring at the ceiling. "Keep doing that," he mutters, finally mustering the courage to face you. His eyes are glazed over with pleasure. "You look so pretty when you do that." His hand moves to your back and all of a sudden, you can feel Chris squeezing your ass. You yelp as he smiles, bringing your head to his collarbone. "So fucking pretty."

Your heart pounds as things heat up. Your dominating attitude has begun to fade as you grind onto his thigh, holding onto his arms and burying your face into his neck. Your need for more contact strengthens with every second.

"I-I," you falter, already losing your power of speech.

"Hmm?" Chris chuckles, tilting your head up with his fingers. "Use your words, babygirl."

"I need you," you finally gasp. He smiles, lifting you off of his lap and standing.

"Let's get out of here."

***

The second the car door closes, his lips are pressed to yours.

You haven't even left Felix's mansion, and yet you're already attached to Chris in a fiery embrace. Your mouth moves against his as you feel his hands slide up your thighs, cupping your ass before traveling around your hips.

Your kiss becomes more heated, and gradually gets deeper as you tug on the collar of his shirt. But as you do so, his hand slaps at your ass.

"Not yet," he growls, finally pulling away. You're breathless, lips numb from the sheer force of the kiss. "Wait until we get to my place."

You nod, panting. You buckle your seat belt while fixing your tousled hair, smoothing town your ruffled dress as Chris begins to drive.

Aching, you cross your legs. Desperate to find some pleasure. You can feel yourself growing hotter and more needy. You can feel your heart rate rising with excitement.

"Don't even think about touching yourself," Chris says without looking over at you. You glance at the boy and see his clenched knuckles on the steering wheel, and how desperate he is as well. A sense of pride washes over you.

You're undoing the biggest player in the school. Just with a kiss and a sexy dress.

After what feels like an eternity of controlling your urges to reach down and seek some pleasure, Chris pulls into a modest and thankfully empty driveway. You get out of the car with him, and both of you pace to the front door. He unlocks it deftly and the second you two are inside, he slams you against the door and begins to kiss you again.

His lips are rough and ruthless, and you moan lightly as you feel him grind against your sensitive area. As your lips part, you feel his tongue enter your mouth.

"F-Fuck," you gasp as Chris fixes his hands on your waist again and guides you towards the hallway. You step into a room, still enveloped in his embrace, that resembles a bedroom.

Pushing you onto a bed but keeping you in an upright position, Chris's hands teasingly play with your dress and the zipper on the back. You breathe against his lips as he pulls on the zipper. You shrug out of the dress, smiling to yourself when you remember that you didn't even wear a bra.

Chris stops as you pull your hair to the side, staring at him with a smirk. His eyes are wide, lips parted in awe, as he examines your chest.

"Fuck," he blinks, his fingers tracing your soft skin. He squeezes the left side of your chest and you inhale, closing the gap between your thighs in an attempt to ease the growing fire burning there.

"You're impatient," Chris raises an eyebrow. Damn you. He knows he's driving you crazy.

"Says the guy who wanted me to jack him off in- fuck!" You throw your head back as his tongue swirls around the buds of your breasts, sucking on your nipples. At this point, you're sick of him teasing you.

You grab his shirt and throw it over his head, pulling him closer to you. You grind on him as he moves up your chest, leaving bite marks trailing from your breasts to your chin. His lips suck on your neck feverishly as you shove your hand under his belt, palming his twitching member. He groans, pulling away and letting you remove his jeans.

"So," you murmur, thumbing his head through his thin boxers, "how long have you wanted to get in my pants?"

You enjoy how he squirms under your touch, how fucking desperate he gets when you're barely even touching him. Hypocritical bastard.

"A bit," he chokes out as you take off his boxers, letting his length extend fully. Idly wrapping your fingers around him, you feign an innocent look. Staring into his hooded eyes while you finally give him what he wanted in class.

"C'mon, Chris. Give me a number. Days? Weeks?"

"Weeks," he cries out as you squeeze his member. You hum in response as you lower your head, taking him in your mouth.

Swirling your tongue around him, feeling his spasms of pleasure, you remove your lips from him with a loud pop. "And you have the nerve to call me needy? Fuck, Chris. You're such a little bitch."

"Shut-shut the fu-fuck up-fuck!" You increase your speed, pumping your fist up and down while bobbing your head around him. You let him slam into the back of your throat, and you slap your tongue against his member.

Finally, as you begin to use one hand to reach for your lace underwear, Chris grabs your face and rips you away from him. With your cheeks in his palms, you stare up at him with wide eyes and swollen lips, droplets of precum and spit dribbling down your chin.

"Little slut," he tsks. Without warning, he jams a hand into your underwear, and before you know it, his finger is twirling around inside of you.

"Ah," you cry out, clenching around him. He smiles, beginning to kiss your neck while inserting a second finger.

"You're already moaning with just one finger," he murmurs while leaving love bites on your skin. "Your voice is gonna be gone by tomorrow."

Fine, you grit your teeth, feeling his thumb move around your slit. His third and final finger begins to stretch you out and you groan with a mixed feeling of pleasure and some pain.

Chris takes his fingers out of you, but before you can even catch your breath, he's moved from your neck to your core. His wet lips suck on your pulsating clit, sending bolts of frantic electricity through your body. He fucks you with his tongue, feeling up your walls, and you scream, hopelessly grinding on him. You've lost all of your pride at this point. You've given in to him. And you're ready for him to take you.

"Come on, baby girl," Chris teases, squeezing your thighs. "We haven't even gotten to the best part."

"Then take me there," you snap, breaths ragged. He smirks, reaching for his jeans strewn on the floor.

"As you wish."

Chris fumbles in his pocket and grabs a condom. He tears open the packaging and you help him put it on, brimming with nervous energy. You need him. Now.

Spreading out your legs, you feel his hands grip your hips, and his tip prods at your entrance.

"Just fucking do- ah!" Chris slams into you without warning, and you feel your walls tighten around his length. Even though you had gotten a good view of him, you hadn't realized how big he truly was until he was inside of you.

And with that, he goes at a relentless pace, the sound of skin clapping against skin filling the room. Your throat chokes up with wild moans, making you sound almost like a puppy.

Chris's moans are breathy and long. Through hooded eyes, you can see the sheen of sweat on his naked body. His eyes are closed, his jaw is set. He's trying to hold it together, just like you.

"Wanna," he growls, pushing deeper into you with every word, "fuck you so hard, you can't even fucking walk."

"Yes," you shriek, your breasts bouncing with every thrust he makes.

"My little babygirl," he groans, leaning closer to you without slowing down. He kisses your chest again and you latch onto his back, your nails gouging into his skin.

"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," you whisper frantically, humping his torso. Chris smiles against your skin and he places his hands parallel to your shoulders, staring into your eyes as he slams his entire length into you. Stars dot your vision as you scream into his ear.

"I'm gonna come," you squeal, closing your eyes as Chris passionately kisses you again, his fingers caressing your cheekbones.

"Me-me too," he grunts, his forehead pressed to yours. "Ah, shit!"

With one final and grand thrust, you feel him come undone in his condom. You hit your climax a few seconds later, your body convulsing with waves of pleasure.

Panting, you let Chris lay on top of you for a bit before he finally rolls into his back, stepping off of the bed. You notice his legs shaking as he disposes of the condom.

"You can stay the night here," he says softly, crawling back into bed and wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Thank you," you reply, still catching your breath. "We should do this more often."

"Yeah," Chris smirks, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck. "We should." With a light laugh, he moves his mouth to your ear and raises the pitch of his voice. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!"

"Shut up," you laugh, turning to face Chris. He pulls you in for a long, mellow kiss.

"Sleep tight, babygirl."

***

i hope you guys enjoyed this!! 😩😉

[avis-writeshq]

Crush x Oblivious!Reader: Through the Years

Requested: Nope

Pairing: Male!Crush x Fem!Oblivious!Reader

Summary: A friendship that began when you were only kids can turn into so much more if you give it time, love and a lotta joy.

Warnings: Swearing, very much fluff, and trash writing

Other: There is a gay couple in here because PRIDE, so if you are not comfortable with that, you can either read with an open mind or read something else. If you do not agree with my choice, please do not DM me or hate on me. Thank you very much xoxo

Word count: 3,116                                                                                            

 Things you probably wanna know, for all you ‘x reader’ illiterates:

(Y/N): Your Name

(H/C): Hair Colour / Color

(E/C): Eye Colour / Color

(N/N): Nickname

(C/N): Crush’s Name

(C/H/C): Crush’s Hair Colour

(C/E/C): Crush’s Eye Colour

(B/F/N): Best Friend’s Name

 ***

[Age 5]

You pouted from behind your mother’s legs, clinging onto her skirt for dear life. You didn’t want to meet your new neighbours. You didn’t want to meet their son. You didn’t want to be outside. You wanted to be inside, helping your dad make cookies. You should be inside, adding extra chocolate chips to the cookies. Not talking to a bunch of strangers.

 “This is my daughter, (Y/N).” Your mother said, and you scrunched up your face in distaste. “Come on, hun, don’t be shy…”

 You shook your head, holding onto her legs tighter. And that’s when you saw him. A boy your age with sparkling (C/E/C) eyes and a bright grin on his face. “I’m (C/N)!” He says immediately, holding a hand out for you. “Are you (Y/N)?”

 You nodded, taking a step backwards. No, no, no, you didn’t want to make friends! Making friends was… scary! But you didn’t want to be rude. That’s what your mother taught you, isn��t it? “Hi…”

 You awkwardly shook his hand and his smile widened. It stretched across his face and you felt as if his face was going to split in 2. “Do you wanna be my friend?”

 What was the worst that could happen? “Okay.”

 Ever since that day, (C/N) came over to your house to play with you. The both of you were outside in your garden, playing in your garden when he wandered up to you, his usual smile on his face. You blinked at him, confused when he took you by the shoulders.

 “You’re pretty.”

 Pretty? No one has ever called you that before. Well, other than your parents, but they don’t count. “Huh?”

 “Well, my daddy tells that to my mommy all the time, and he said that you tell girls you love that they look pretty.” He grinned at you. “And you’re a girl I love.”

 [Age 10, in 5th Grade]

“Hey, (Y/N), over here!”

 You blinked, hearing your name. You had been sitting on a bench, alone, as per usual, as you drew. Your little scrapbook was almost out of pages, meaning you had to get another one. You snapped the book closed, turning to the direction of the voice. It was (C/N), your best friend since you were a little girl. Well, your only friend.

 Packing up your stuff, you went over to where he was. “Hi, (C/N).”

 “(Y/N), this is Alphie, he’s in my class!” He smiled at you with the same eyes that looked into yours all those years ago; glistening with excitement as he met another person.

 “Hiya,” the boy said, effortlessly brushing his blonde hair out of his eyes.

 You raised an eyebrow at him but smiled nonetheless. “Hello.”

 (C/N) quickly spoke for you. “(Y/N) is a little shy… but don’t worry! She’s a good friend of mine. We’re neighbours.”

 “It’s nice to meet you,” you said, trying your best to be friendly. From what the girls in your class had said, you were apparently ‘intimidating’ because of your quietness.

 “You as well,” he said, smirking.

 You didn’t say anything after that because of the lack of conversation starters. You didn’t really want to be the first to ask a question about him, either. What if (C/N) and Alphie thought you were annoying? You didn’t want either of them to leave you. (C/N) must have sensed your unease and bumped his knee with yours.

 “You okay?” He asked, smiling his usual charming smile.

 Nodding, you tried your best to reassure him. “I’m okay. I stayed up all night trying to finish my maths homework.”

 He snickered, “why do you have to be so bad at maths?”

 Rolling your eyes, you stuck your tongue out at him. “Hey, I’m not the one who got a C on his Science Assignment.”

 (C/N) pouted at you, “Biology is hard, okay? Not my fault. Maths is just adding numbers together.”

 “And times tables, and division, and we still have to learn about brackets!” You let out a groan, clapping the palm of your hand with your forehead.

 From across from you, Alphie scoffed. “You think that’s hard? English is the absolute worst.”

 “English is easy!” You and (C/N) exclaimed at the same time. The three of you burst into giggles.

 “Hey, (C/N), you’re right. She is really pretty,” Alphie remarked, thinking.

 “See, I told you!” He said, pointing a finger at him. “You didn’t believe the fact that I know a girl.”

 Alphie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, I’m not the one who tried to impress everyone by balancing a pencil on his nose.”

 “I balanced it for 5 seconds!”

 You watched as the two boys laughed together and you couldn’t help but smile. (C/N) talks about you? Is that what friends do when they care about each other? Questions whirled in your head but you decided to ignore them. You might as well cherish the time right now. Pretty… were you really pretty to him?

 [13 years old, 8th Grade]

You had been lucky enough to be in the same class as Alphie and (C/N). The three of you were glued together ever since 5th grade, and you were known as the Silver Trio, mainly because all of you claimed that there was no better trio than the Golden Trio of Harry Potter. Of course, now you weren’t as shy, and after talking to a few more people, you seemed to be much more comfortable at school.

 “Hey, (Y/N)!” You looked up from your book to be met with a brunette, her bright blue eyes staring at you.

 You smiled, “Good morning, (B/F/N).”

 “Isn’t today wonderful?” She asked, smiling at you. “The cherry blossoms are in full bloom, too! Do you think sensei would let us out early for lunch?”

 “I doubt it. We have a maths test, remember?”

 Her once happy-go-lucky smile morphed into a horrified one. “Ah, damn it! I completely forgot that! I thought it was next week!”

 “Sensei said it was this Wednesday, ergo, today is the day of the test.”

 She pouted at you, “Can you at least lend me your notes?”

 You nodded, fishing for your notes when you felt two hands wrap around your eyes. “Guess who!”

 You tapped your chin, grinning at his childishness. “It’s (C/N), isn’t it?”

 “Right you are, (Y/N)! Ready for that maths test this afternoon?”

 “I was just getting my notes to help (B/F/N) study.” You offer him a cheery smile. “Your notes helped me a lot. Thanks for letting me study at your house yesterday.”

 “No problem! You can let me know if there is anything else you need help with, okay? I’m gonna go find Alphie. Bye!”

 You waved him goodbye and turned to look at (B/F/N), who was smirking at you cheekily. “Is something wrong?” You ask her, slightly confused.

 “You cannot be serious.” She let out a huff, frustrated at your obliviousness. “When are you and (C/N) gonna date?!”

 “Yell it out to the world, why don’t you?” You roll your eyes, teasing her. “And what are you even talking about? (C/N) and I are best friends; we’re not dating.”

 “But don’t you think he’s cute?”

 “I never really thought about it…” you thought for a minute before shaking your head. You can’t like him. “The worst thing you could ever do is date a neighbour. What if we break up? We’re going to have to see each other every day. And he’s my best friend. I don’t anything to change.”

 (B/F/N) shook her head, “there you go being all-wise and stuff. This is life, (Y/N). Live in it!”

 You blinked. “Live in it?”

 ***

The maths test came and went, and you found yourself feeling particularly confident. Maybe you didn’t do so badly this time. It was a nice thought to have. You were sitting on one of the benches underneath a bright cherry blossom, waiting for (C/N) and Alphie. They both wanted to get lunch from the canteen (or cafeteria) today, so you decided to save a table for them. Then you felt someone slide into the seat beside you.

 You looked up at this mystery person. You recognised him to be one of the boys in your grade. From what you remember, he was one of the more… mischievous boys and he tended to be quite irritating to be around.

 “You’re (Y/N) right?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

 You nodded, “yeah, that’s me. Is there something you need?”

 He smirked, shaking his head. “(C/N) talked about you today in art. Wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Ya know, if you took a little more time to get your hair done and nice and splash on a little makeup, you could get into the popular group.”

 Ah, yes, the popular group. It contained not only the richest people but the best looking. They all had something to offer. Most of the time they only talked about fashion ideas and what you should wear regarding the latest trends. You, however, didn’t really care about fashion. Yes, you took pride in what you looked like and had a lot of self-care regimes, but you weren’t really one to follow trends. Not only that but what was the point of getting new clothes every month when you could wear the same clothes from the month before? And besides, nowadays the trends were things that you weren’t comfortable wearing, such as crop tops and miniskirts.

  You were just about to answer when you heard a familiar voice come from around the corner. “Hey, (Y/N)! This is Kaden; he’s in my art class. Dude, what’s up?” (C/N) high-fived Kaden, who smirked and clapped him on the back.

 Kaden looked at Alphie who grinned and ruffled his hair. “Hey, man, wish you were back in our class. Damn, teachers love to torment kids, huh?”

 Alphie rolled his eyes but nodded. “Hey, (Y/N), how did you go on your maths test? All good?”

 You shrug, smiling still. “It was fine. I think I did alright. Thanks, (C/N) for helping me out yesterday. Algebra is trash.”

 “Oh, guys, guess what I heard?” Kaden leaned in to whisper his little secret. “I was walking around the popular table, and guess who was talking about (C/N)?”

 You raised an eyebrow. You were never really one for gossip, but this piqued your interest. “Who?”

 “Gertrude! You know, the leader of the populars? Dude, she’s totally into you!” Kaden sAlphieered, shoving (C/N)’s head fondly.

 You leaned back, suddenly feeling a little disappointed. Was (C/N) going to leave you for them? The bratty and the idiotic? You swallowed thickly looking at your sandwich. He wouldn’t… right?

 ***

You and (C/N) walked home together, as per usual. It was a nice day today; the sun was shining, the birds were singing, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. But even while you felt the sunlight on your face, you couldn’t help but feel a little down.

 “Hey,” you felt (C/N)’s shoulder bump with yours, “you okay?”

 You offered a smile, trying your best to reassure him. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

 “That might have fooled me before, but I’m not a kid, ya know. I know when you’re lying.” He sighed, stopping you from walking by standing in front of you, looking at you in the eye. “Is this about what Kaden said at lunch today?”

 You couldn’t help but nod. “I don’t want you to go with them. You can’t just leave!”

 “Hey, you’ve been my best friend for 8 years. I’m not gonna leave you. I care about you too much to do that,” he placed a hand on your hand, smiling at you. “Remember when we were little and we played in your garden?”

 You nodded, “We played there every day.”

 “Well, one time, I told you something. You remember, right?”

 You did remember. But you wanted to hear it from him. With a cheeky smile, you looked up at him. “What did you say? I need reminding.”

 He laughed taking your hair out of your ponytail. “You had your hair out, I remember. It was a little shorter than what it is now, but it was kind of flowing in the wind. I was supposed to be looking for a stick to pick up the ladybug you found. Then I told you that you looked pretty.”

 He grinned at you as you looked at him curiously, continuing to speak. “You had the same expression of your face. You remember what I said afterwards? I told you I loved you. You got mad at me, though, because the ladybug flew away. But we don’t abandon people we love, right? So I’m not going to abandon you.”

 [15 years old, 10th Grade]

True to his word, (C/N) didn’t leave to go with the populars; no matter how much they begged and pressured him to be. Since that day in 8th Grade, he stood out to you in a completely different light. You didn’t know how to explain it but he was more… attractive? He stood by your side through thick and thin, so you were glad to know that he was there. Of course, you had Kaden, Alphie, and (B/F/N), but you always had a connection with (C/N).

 You were definitely a lot closer to him now than you were before. A lot of people mistook you as a couple, even when you made it blatantly clear that you weren’t, no matter how much you wanted to be. However, you and (C/N) did the most platonic things known to man. This included hugs from behind, forehead kisses, late-night calls… but you were not dating. At least, that’s what you told everyone.

 You didn’t want to be needy, of course, so if (C/N) didn’t want to hang out with you, you would never pressure him to. And he never pressured you into anything, either. It was all strictly platonic.

 “Hey, (Y/N)!” You heard him say from behind you, wrapping his arms loosely around your neck.

 It was the school holidays, thank god, and you were waiting for the group to wander into the café. You were always early to meet-ups because you had the irrational fear that they were going to leave you behind if you were the slightest bit late.

 You smile upon hearing his voice. “Hi, (C/N). Why are you early? You’re almost never on time.”

 You heard him chuckle, kissing your hair. “I knew you’d be here at least half-an-hour early, and I didn’t want to leave you alone all by yourself. There are terrible things happening, you know?”

 With a small scoff, you pulled him down to sit at the table. “You act as if you weren’t there for my karate lessons.”

 “Actually, that was impressive.” He grinned at you. “You flipped 3 guys in 5 minutes and they were both 2 years older than you?”

 You smirked proudly, nodded. “Yes, I did. I was awesome back then, huh?”

 “You’re still awesome now,” he smiled at you, lifting your knuckles to his lips.

 At that moment, a face gag was heard from behind you. “You guys are disgusting!” Alphie exclaimed an arm around (B/F/N) waist.

 At the sight, you couldn’t help but smirk. (B/F/N)’s cheeks were dusted pink and she caught your gaze. “Alphie, (Y/N) is bullying me.”

 You giggled, shaking your head. “I didn’t do anything. Besides, what could your man do to hurt me?”

 “Are you calling me weak?” Alphie demanded, faking a gasp at the insult. “Hey, I’m not the one who still hasn’t confessed to the girl that he likes, (C/N).”

 The said boy rolled his eyes, but a blush was still painted on his cheeks. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said as (B/F/N) and Alphie took their seats.

 “Sure you don’t,” he smirked, “go on, why don’t you tell her now?”

 You cocked your head to the side, oblivious as always. “(C/N) likes someone.”

 Alphie gaped at you, stammering over his words. “You don’t… you don’t fucking know?!”

 “He may be my best friend, but he doesn’t have to tell me everything…” you shrugged, grinning at the (C/H/C) boy. “We don’t really talk about that stuff.”

 “Please tell me she’s joking,” you heard (B/F/N) mumble to her boyfriend, who nodded in agreement.

 “Joking about what?”

 “YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!” Alphie exclaimed, slapping his palm to his forehead. “I can’t… this – I can’t even.”

 Before he could get up to leave, another voice sounded from behind you. “Hey guys, you’re all early, huh?”

 “Hey, Kaden!” You smiled, “You even brought your boyfriend! I’m (Y/N).”

 “I’m Danny,” the boy greeted, a small smile on his face.

 “We’ve heard a lot about you, Danny. I’m (C/N), and this beetroot-” he gestured to Alphie, “is Alphie, and this is his girlfriend, (B/F/N). Great to finally meet you.”

 “Oh, so you’re (C/N). From what I’ve heard, you’re not man enough to tell the girl you like that you likeher, even when there is so much sexual tension around you.”

 “Why does everyone keep saying that?” (C/N) muttered, rolling his eyes, “and it is strictly platonic. We’re not like that. Besides, she’s an oblivious piece of work, so no matter what I do, she never sees it.”

 “Ey, (C/N), you should tell me!” You frowned, feeling suddenly deflated. “Everyone else knows but me…”

 “Well, that’s because,” Danny began, but Kaden quickly slapped a hand over his boyfriend’s mouth.

 “We are going to order, right love? We’ll be right back…”

 At that, Alphie and (B/F/N) nodded as well. “Yep, we’re going to order something too. Gotta go!”

 You blinked, watching the 4 of them leave before turning back to (C/N). “Come on, who is it? I won’t tease you, I promise.”

 “You really are a dummy,” he rolled his eyes before tapping your nose. “Why do you think I give you hugs from behind? And why do you think I kiss your forehead every time I see you in the morning on our way to school? (Y/N), why do I tell you that I love you every night before you go to sleep?”

 “…because you’re a friendly person who doesn’t want me to feel alone with (B/F/N) and Alphie’s, as well as Danny and Kaden?” You ask innocently.

 (C/N) sighed, shaking his head. “No, it’s because I like you. More than a best friend.”

 “Oh.” You grin up at him. “I know.”

 “You what?!”

 “Well, if I said that I knew, I never would have heard it from you, right? And the others already make it stupidly obvious, but I want you to say it to me when you’re ready.” You smile, kissing his cheek. “I already knew, (C/N). And by the way,” you take his hands in yours, “I love you, too.”

~

If you like my work, please like and reblog! xoxo

[bleepblopbloop56]

The Murder in the Dressing Room

Chapter 3: 2 buttons

Chapter one, chapter 2, ao3

Warnings: slight suggestive content around the end (not too bad), murder/character death

As always @pathos-logical did an increble amount of work on this and everyone should go give her all the love

-

"Dada!" Logan could hear Patton's protest from the other room, which was quickly followed by the sound of unsteady footsteps that grew louder and louder until his one-year-old had run straight into his legs. He finished buttoning up his shirt before leaning down and lifting the child into his arms. Logan was the last person on earth you'd expect to want a child, and in a way he didn't. Or at least, he hadn't, not at first. About 16 months ago, his best friend had died giving birth to Patton, and all hopes of becoming "Uncle Logan" were thrown out the window and replaced with "dada".

His roommate Virgil walked in the room after the child, a small grin on his face. "The lil rugrat keeps getting away from me!" he laughed, sitting on Logan's bed. "I don't think he wants you to leave." Logan bounced the baby on his hip before handing him down to Virgil, earning a soft "nooo" from the child. 

"Thank you for watching him Virgil, I really can't tell you how much you're helping me." Logan shifted his attention back to Patton and smiled, poking his nose lightly. "Dada's gonna be gone for a while, okay?" The baby shook his head furiously, pouting before stretching out his arms and making grabby hands. Powerless to resist that face, Logan picked him up and began to bounce him again. 

"Pattttonnn," he sing-songed. "I gotta go, baby, or else I'll be late." He smiled at the boy clutching his shirt while trying to discreetly check his watch to see how long he had till he needed to leave. "Go to Uncle Vee now, okay?" Despite having lived with Virgil as long as he had lived with Logan, Patton had never really latched on to him the way he had Logan, deeming "Uncle Vee" as tolerable but not preferred- probably because of Virgil's piercings, tattoos, loud music, and overall gloomy vibe. 

Logan slowly pulled Patton off his shirt and placed him back in the arms of his roommate and friend. 

"Fix your hair before you go out," Virgil commented, standing up with the baby and tossing Logan's hair around with his hand. Logan looked in the mirror to see a "messy on purpose" look much more suited to Remy than him. 

"What was wrong with how I had it before?" he asked, flinching and covering his glasses when Virgil brought the hairspray to his hair.

"Too neat. If you really want this dude to like you, ya gotta loosen up." Virgil winked at him before unbuttoning the top two buttons of his dark navy shirt.

"This isn't a date, Virgil, this is a meeting between two friends to discuss the loss of… an acquaintance," Logan sniffed, but the shirt remained the way it was.

Patton let out a big yawn, arching his body before settling into Virgil's side. He seemed to have resigned himself to his fate and decided now was a perfect time for a nap. Virgil effortlessly adjusted his hold on him before quirking a pierced eyebrow at Logan. "Oh really? Your ex-boyfriend strolls into your life after you lose your mutual best friend, and now you're meeting up for the first time since the breakup." Virgil walked to the corner of Logan's room where Patton's small baby bed was set up, laying him down gently. "I've seen enough telenovelas to know that this will end with a makeout session in the rain." 

Logan rolled his eyes before stuffing his wallet and phone in his back pocket. He leaned down and kissed Patton's head softly, whispering a soft "love you" to the sleeping baby before making his way to the door. 

"Be home by 10!" Virgil called playfully, careful to make sure not to wake up the baby. 

"I am not a child, Virgil, I do not require a curfew," he joked, smiling back at his friend. He walked out the door and softly clicked it closed as he made his way down his apartment's hallway. 

"Is!"

"Isn't!"

"Is!!"

"ISN'T!"

"IS!" Remus shouted over Roman, laughing loudly before kicking his legs out, only to be silenced to a pillow to the face. 

"It. Isn't. A. Date!" Roman punctuated each syllable with another whack of the pillow, earning himself a kick in the gut. Amazing how even after twenty years they acted like they did when they were five. 

Remus kicked Roman again, shoving him into the floor and also probably leaving a considerable bruise. 

"Jesus fuck," Roman groaned, "do you always have to play so rough?" He lifted his shirt to observe the red mark on his stomach, flinching as he prodded at it. 

Roman ignored Remus' whiny "It's not my fault! You were trying to kill me!" and pulled himself up, picking through the mess on the floor to look through Remus' closet for anything he could pass off as acceptable fashion. Unfortunately, his twin's taste in clothing was… very different from his own, to say the least.

It had been three days since he and Logan had agreed to meet up, three days since Thomas has been murdered, three days since he'd last returned to his and Thomas' house. It hurt too much to go back now- he needed time. 

"Why the hell is everything you wear straight out of a clown's formal wear catalog?" Roman sneered, holding up a neon green polka-dotted suit jacket before dropping it in the trash can. Really, it was a wonder anything was hung up at all, considering the state of the house Remus was currently infesting. 

"Shut up and take what you can get!" Remus snapped, coming up and scanning the closet beside his brother. He reached in and yanked out a black pencil skirt before shoving it into Roman's hands. "There, that'll get you some detective D," he leered, wiggling his eyebrows. It took every ounce of self-restraint Roman had to not fucking deck the man in the face.

"I had planned on wearing pants," Roman scowled, thinking of how cold the walk back home could get, but he folded the skirt over his arm nonetheless. After some more bickering and insults, Remus managed to dig up a plain red short-sleeved button-up for him from the bottom of his drawers. 

"Do you have any makeup?" Roman called from the bathroom, frantically smoothing out his shirt from where it was tucked into his skirt, trying to keep it from leaving any weird bumps or wrinkles.

"Why the fuck would I have makeup?!" Remus yelled back. ‘Probably for the best,’ Roman decided. ‘Spending another minute in this bathroom might be hazardous to my health.’ 

"I don't know," Roman complained, stepping out of the bathroom and pulling on a pair of Remus' shoes. "You paint your nails and own a fucking pencil skirt, it doesn't exactly seem like you've fallen victim to toxic masculinity." He very maturely stuck his tongue out at Remus as he took out his phone to check the time. He glanced down, and then again with disbelief. Shit. He'd spent way too much time bickering with his brother, and now he was running late. 

"If I'm not back by midnight, don't come looking for me," Roman winked. It was an old joke- they used to say that to each other every time they snuck out of the house for a date or to hang out with friends. 

"Aha! So you admit it's a date!" Remus cheered, leaning forward for effect. Roman simply slammed the door in his face and began his trek to the restaurant. 

The restaurant was bustling. Friday nights were the busiest for all of the restaurants in the area, especially the nice ones. Roman had picked the place, although the reason he would choose such a nice place for a friendly gathering was beyond Logan.

As per usual, Logan had arrived early and seated himself in a booth near the back of the restaurant. Today, however, he was regretting his punctuality for multiple reasons. First of all, the restaurant's dim lighting, supplied by fake candles and an overly gaudy chandelier, called back to other times he had waited on Roman at some fancy restaurant for date night, and the longer he waited, the harder it was to suppress those memories. Second, the more time passed, the more self-conscious Logan got. After seeing all the men in nice suits and ties pass by, he was starting to regret letting Virgil mess up his hair instead of sticking with the neat slicked-back look he wore on a daily basis. 

And third, Logan had been waiting for so long he was beginning to suspect Roman had backed out on him. Just as he was promising himself he'd leave after another five minutes, he saw a man in a red shirt and tight black skirt squeeze his way through the restaurant. 

"Hi, I'm sorry I'm so late!" Roman rushed out. His expression went from apologetic to annoyed in a second as he said, rolling his eyes: "Problems with my brother, he can be a real bitch sometimes."

The explanation startled a laugh out of Logan. Roman's exasperation looked so genuine that Logan couldn't doubt him, and… it was nice to see that Roman hadn't changed after all this time. He waved off Roman's worry, who smiled with relief before sitting down and picking up a menu. "Wine?" 

Roman giggled as Logan pushed him against his car. Okay, so maybe after a bottle of wine it was… more or less a date.

Logan's hands pulled at Roman's shirt, unbuttoning it and pushing his hands under the fabric. It had been so long since they'd kissed like this- far too long since Logan had kissed anyone, really, and Ethan had never used to kiss Roman like this, like he was the center of his universe. 

Logan ran his hands over Roman's stomach, accidently pressing on the fresh bruise. Roman winced and pulled away, pushing at Logan's hands.

Logan backed away immediately. "What's wrong?" he asked seriously, brown eyes wide and sparkling down at Roman with concern. Roman chuckled and pulled up his shirt, showing off the now red and blue bruise.

"Remus," he sighed wearily. "You know how he is." He leaned back in and connected his lips to Logan's, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and dragging him down in a much less heated kiss.

"Can we go back to yours?" Roman asked quietly. This was really what he needed after things ended badly with Dee. Even if they could just snuggle like they used to, it'd make everything seem okay again. 

Logan shook his head. "I can't," he winced regretfully. "I have a child now, Ro, and Virgil's still there with us…" He trailed off, fiddling with his glasses. Roman smiled softly and nodded- not pushing, not asking for more. They'd just have to wait. 

"I could give you a ride back to Remus' if you'd like," Logan offered instead. "Making you walk home after, ah, that, seems rude." He laughed a little awkwardly, his smile a little strained, but Roman only nodded and pulled open the passenger door he was pushed up against only moments before. 

When Roman returned home just before 1 am, it was to find Remus lying dead on the kitchen floor, a golden mask with a deep frown adorning his face. Just like how he'd found Thomas…

The murder in the dressing room taglist:

@cataclysm-al @theteenagetrickster @intrurality-fusion @katie-the-noble-fangirl @whizzie72 @grayson-22 @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing 'm-d0ing @winterwonderland7669 @missieluvsmurder @sign-from-god-complex @dragonindigo245 @angryfanboyscreaming @ninja-wizard101 @sombraookami @crystalistrappedintheinternet @imtooaromanticforthis @why-should-i-tell-youu2 @dragon-hair @satanblessi @spookilyfingergunsoutofexistence @skruffy901 @selectivereality

[of-wrens-and-whirlwinds-blog]

Summer Day

Commissioned by the awesome @wombatking! I really hope I did your prompt justice! Commission info is here!

~

There were always going to be bitter days, but time with Samantha was usually less so.

Cassie woke at exactly 6AM without needing an alarm, and knew that this morning was going to bitter. The afternoon was her date with Sammy, so that would probably be alright; but she woke angry, and when Jenny, the carer her mom had hired, came in to help her get ready for the day, she couldn’t help scowling.

“Bad morning?” Jenny asked sympathetically, pulling back the blankets and checking the bed bag.

“Yeah,” Cassie muttered. She couldn’t take her anger out on Jenny, because she was nice, and knew her job, and never made Cassie feel bad about her lot in life. “Do I have any sores?”

Jenny checked her arms and legs quickly and thoroughly before starting the stretches. “Nope, and none beginning. We’ll check your back in the shower.”

Since today was going to be special, Cassie wished desperately to fuss, like she had before the jump. But Jenny didn’t fuss, and when Cassie got snappish, Jenny raised her eyebrow and said dryly, “Wow, I didn’t know it was your wedding today.”

Cassie stopped snapping, blushing. Who would want to be long-term with a quadriplegic person? she had once asked Jenny angrily. Who would want to tie themselves down to this?

Jenny had just shaken her head and replied, You never know.

That was before Samantha had told Cassie very firmly that unless something truly divisive came up, she was going to stick by her.

Cassie’s mood improved when Jenny and her mom helped her get dressed. Mom was still weird about this stuff, and cried over small things like Cassie never winning dance awards anymore, but she was mostly over herself. Cassie was forcing herself to be, if not cheerful, then at least calm, and that had seemed the help the whole house.

Today, she wanted to wear pink. So Jenny brought out her pink clothes and when Cassie had decided on an outfit, Jenny and mom helped her dress, like a life-size doll. It was embarrassing, but it got less so as the weeks passed. Almost a year, now.

Cassie really couldn’t believe it, but here it was. Almost a full year.

“Do you want help with your hair, baby?” Mom asked, looking worried.

“Nah, it’s fine. Sammy’s gonna help me.” Cassie couldn’t decide if it was humiliating or fun, that Samantha was so good at doing her hair. On the one hand, it felt nice, because Samantha was so gentle. On the other… well. Cassie looked down at her arms and willed with all her might for the left one to move. It didn’t. As usual.

At least Dad had sprung for a nice chair. A motorized one; the physical therapist had called it a “sip-and-puff” which Cassie would have found hilarious if she weren’t bound to it completely. But she was getting really good at driving it without having to think too hard about how to turn a corner or how to go up the little lip at the bottom of the front door. Mom still hovered, but Jenny, an experienced nurse, didn’t bother.

Meals were always soured by the fact that she needed help. Before, she could shovel a bowl of cereal in her mouth in a few minutes and be out the door; now she had to eat at the pace Jenny set, and couldn’t even feel if she was hungry or full. Well, it was nice to never feel hungry; but at the cost of not feeling anything else? Not worth it.

Still. She ate, and managed to get Mom to talk about things other than doctors. Then she went and practiced with that new software, Dragon, since she would still be expected to turn in essays in school. She refused to be home-schooled. She had nothing against home-schooling; but the thought of being stuck in this house, only allowed out with Jenny or mom like a dog on a leash, made her angry. She was going to do as much as she could to cling to normalcy.

Noon hit and her phone buzzed a text alert.

Jenny picked up her phone and gave her the mouth-stick that she still wasn’t that familiar with, and Cassie eagerly unlocked the phone and opened messages.

Sammy: I’ll be over soon! Shoes are on!

Cassie hit the heart emoji three times and then send. Jenny smiled as she took the stick back. “Soon?” she asked.

Cassie nodded, grinning. “Can you help me get my shoes on?”

~

Samantha was getting used to the giant van instead of Cassie’s mom’s dinky sedan, but it still made her stomach twist.

Oh well. She smiled as she parked and got out. She had brought those butterfly hair clips that Cassie had been eyeing at the mall on their last date, and a new pinky-peach lipstick. It would match her favorite heels.

Samantha knocked smartly on the front door. Cassie’s mom answered, plastering on a fake smile. She still didn’t approve of Samantha, but honestly, that was her own problem. Samantha just smiled and said, “Hello, Mrs. Shapiro. Can I come in?”

“Yes, of course.”

All awkward conversation was stalled by Cassie zooming out of the living room and halting sharply just a few feet away. Samantha closed the rest of the distance and hugged her, delighting in the soft scent of eucalyptus from Cassie’s hair and ignoring the stiff plastic smell of the chair. “Got you a present,” Samantha said as she let go, and took the packet with the lipstick and clips out of her packet. The look of delight on Cassie’s face made Samantha’s tummy flutter.

“Oh gosh, they’re so cute!” Cassie gushed. “Aren’t those the ones we saw at the mall?”

“Yep. I doubled back when I brought you home.”

Cassie laughed and Samantha smiled wider.

Cassie was one of those people who had a vanity in her room with all her makeup and hair stuff there. Samantha was glad of it these days; more room to maneuver. She was still so excited that Cassie trusted her to do her hair, and Samantha took care to make sure she never regretted it. It helped that Cassie’s hair was absolutely gorgeous, thick and strong, gold like wheat in the sun or watered honey or—

“Are you going to braid it or keep brushing it until the beach closes?” Cassie asked, bringing Samantha back to the present.

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry.”

Cassie smiled at her in the mirror, and Samantha smiled back, shyly.

A few gentle curls at the side of Cassie’s face, the rest braided and gathered into a flat bun, and the butterfly clips in a vague ring around Cassie’s head, like a crown.  Samantha had often thought of Cassie as a kind of royalty, and the accident hadn’t changed that thought. Makeup next. Samantha had been a disaster with it before Cassie first helped her with highlight and glittery eye shadow; now she knew exactly how to do Cassie’s makeup, and there was definitely a tenderness and level of trust in applying lipstick that made Samantha blush.

“You’re so cute,” Cassie murmured affectionately when Samantha lifted the applicator.

“And you’re the most beautiful,” Samantha retorted quietly, blushing harder.

Cassie laughed. “How long until this dries?” she asked. “I need to kiss you thank-you.”

Samantha shrugged. “Not long, I think.” She licked her thumb and gently corrected some eyebrow pencil. “There. Good. Gosh, you’re beautiful.”

“You said that already,” Cassie replied, grinning and blushing.

“Well, you are, so there.”

They were going to visit the beach. Not the sand, the chair wouldn’t work on sand; but the dock, definitely. They would get ice cream and judge old men on their dress-sense and maybe meet up with that nice older lady who wrote Harlequin novels and was so absolutely filthy that she put Samantha and Cassie’s classmates to shame. She was fun, though. And Samantha would get to see Cassie smiling at the sunset.

Cassie’s mom asked worriedly if they were sure they didn’t want her or Jenny to come to. Cassie frowned and said “No, we’ll be fine.”

“Call if you need anything,” Cassie’s mom insisted, then got out of the way.

Samantha helped with the ramp and securing the chair in the van, then leaned up and kissed Cassie quickly before getting into the driver’s seat. Cassie giggled and Samantha blushed.

The whole drive, they talked about Samantha’s latest research hole, butterflies and moths. Cassie laughed more than she did in public. That made Samantha happy.

There was a handicap spot open at the beach parking lot. Samantha swooped in quickly, and when a little old lady slammed her horn at Samantha, she ignored it and just got to work helping Cassie out. The horn-blaring stopped when Cassie came into view.

“Mean old tart,” Cassie muttered.

“She just didn’t know,” Samantha replied, and slid Cassie’s sunglasses on her face. “Better?”

“Yeah. Let’s go!”

~

Cassie enjoyed the fresh air and smiled at the happy children, and ignored the stares. Samantha walked close, less out of obnoxious hovering and more out of shyness. She was getting more outgoing, but sometimes she just wasn’t really very extroverted. That was fine, though Cassie desperately wanted to hold her hand.

“Ice cream first?” Cassie asked brightly, smiling up at Samantha. The other girl smiled back, blushing. She’d only braided back the front locks of her hair, leaving the rest fiery and wild, and it showed off her adorable freckles.

“Yeah, that works,” Samantha said. “And then we can check if there’s anything new at Gigi’s giftshop.”

“Oh, yes, perfect!”

They strolled down the boardwalk, talking. Samantha had started researching all kinds of bugs, but was also researching plants, and Cassie loved to watch Samantha’s face light up as she talked about specialized relationships between insects and plants. They reached the ice cream shop without incident, and Samantha bought two bowls of vanilla ice cream, one smothered in chocolate and the other smothered in caramel. They claimed one of the few tables and Samantha fed Cassie her ice cream slowly, both of them giggling. With helpers at meals, Cassie felt a deep resentment; when it was fun with Samantha, who legitimately only saw her as a girlfriend, not someone to take care of, it was a lovely time.

Little kids were staring. Cassie ignored them, and focused on telling Samantha about all the advancements Jenny had told her about. How her uncle had bought her speech-to-text software, and she was getting better at it, and how eventually her mom was going to replace the creaky shoddy temporary ramp with a nice solid one with proper tread. Samantha was encouraging, and never got uncomfortable or tried to turn the subject. This was Cassie’s life, now. There was no point pretending it wasn’t.

They were just starting to talk about the coming school year (gosh it was so cute when Samantha put her chin in her hand like that and just looked at Cassie) when an older woman walking by asked, in truly confused tone, “You’re going to school? Like that?”

Samantha tensed, her fingers curling and her face going hard. Cassie smiled at the lady sweetly, putting as much anger into her eyes as she could.

“Yes, I am,” she said. “I don’t see why I shouldn’t.”

“Well, you—I—” The woman realized she had well and truly fucked up, and flushed, looking guilty. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, and hurried away.

“Bitch,” Samantha muttered at the woman’s retreating back.

Cassie didn’t reply.

Gigi’s giftshop wasn’t as crowded as usual. There were new gewgaws on display, though; pottery, mostly, probably made by Gigi’s siblings’ children. There were some very nice stone-chip bracelets, and Cassie insisted on purchasing two matching ones. Samantha blushed and was very tender, fastening the bracelet around Cassie’s unresponsive wrist.

They went to grab snacks as they slowly went down the boardwalk, looking out at the ocean and the beach. It was getting cold; people were packing up and leaving. They paused by the rail, to watch the sunset. Cassie’s breath caught in her throat at the fiery sky touching the dark ocean with brightness. The raw glory of another day by the ocean seized her throat, reminding her that there was more to this world than one small human body, one small human life. The reds and oranges looked like Samantha’s hair. The blue waves looked like her favorite necklace, the once Cassie had made for her three days before the accident. Cassie looked up at Samantha, and caught her staring at Cassie with the tenderest expression. A bit excited, a bit reverent, a bit hopeful, a bit sad—and so loving that Cassie felt like crying.

The sunset played golden on Samantha’s cheek and woke the amber highlights in her hair.

“You’re really beautiful,” Samantha said softly.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Cassie replied, just as softly.

~

Samantha didn’t want to go home. She wanted to stay over at Cassie’s and cuddle and watch dumb Netflix shows. But her own parents were expecting her for dinner, and Cassie admitted that her mom was going through a weird phase of keeping mealtimes strict, and she wouldn’t have planned for a fifth person at dinner.

So they drove back to Cassie’s, talking softly and sparingly. Samantha greatly enjoyed the quiet times, just being near Cassie with nothing to do or say. She wasn’t sure if Cassie liked those times, but she snatched them when she could.

It was very selfish of her. But she told herself it wasn’t as selfish as forcing her company and talking on Cassie when she was quiet of her own volition.

“I want you to stay the night,” Cassie said very softly, when Samantha had parked the van.

“Our parents will be annoyed,” Samantha pointed out reluctantly, turning in her seat to look up at Cassie. Her curls had straightened from the dampness of the sea air, but they still looked adorable on her, as did the mulish look. “And I didn’t bring any pajamas.”

“You can borrow mine,” Cassie replied. “And mom and dad can get over it.”

Samantha thought for a moment, looking into Cassie’s face. And she realized that Cassie was more important than the scolding she’d get from her own parents.

“Okay,” she said. “But I’m not explaining to your mom why I’m still here. She’s scary.”

Cassie laughed. Samantha couldn’t stop a grin. “Fair enough! Let’s get inside. What do you want to watch after dinner?”

[allthingsfangirl101]

“Work”– Stuart Twombly

Warning: dancing, strippers, suggesting sex, slight smut, Daddy kink, language

There is something about me that my interning group doesn't know; the only way I can afford to be here is by working at the night club on weekends.

Yes, I'm an exotic dancer.

It's never been a problem until one Saturday night I had just gotten in my outfit and was about to step onto the stage when I saw a certain pair of glasses that I didn't want to see.

"Danger, you're up on the stage. Go!" My manager yelled.

I heard my signature song playing as the announcer's voice came through the speakers. "Give it up for the crowd favorite, Little Miss Danger!"

The second I stepped onto the stage, the nerves left me and I turned into Danger. I started dancing as Dangerous Woman by Arianna Grande blasted through the speakers.

The longer I was on stage, the louder the men in the room got. I sent a wink as the song came to an end. "Thank you, Danger!" I waved as I quickly sauntered off the stage. The second I got backstage, I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding.

Stuart noticed me.

"How could he not?" I mumbled. I ran my hand through my hair, trying to calm my breathing. With shaking hands, I picked up my water bottle and took a much needed drink.

"Danger," one of the waitresses said. "There's a gentlemen who is asking for a lap dance."

"Be right there," I said, clearing my throat. I fixed my lipstick before walking out into the lounge.

"That guy," she said, pointing. "The one with the glasses."

"No," I said quickly. "I can't. . . He. . ."

"He asked for you specifically, Danger. You know the rules." She started to walk away but stopped and looked at him. "Besides, he's hot."

I let out an annoyed groan as I slowly walked over to him. I walked up behind him, trying to plot how I can get through this song without him seeing my face. I scoffed when I realized it was impossible.

I took a deep breath as I put my hands on his shoulders, standing directly behind him. I slid my hands down his chest and back up. When my hands got back to his shoulders, I slid them down his arms.

"You can cut the act," he laughed. My breath got caught in my throat when he looked at me from over his shoulder. "I know it's you, Y/N."

"Fine," I scoffed as I walked around him, his eyes on me the whole time. "So you caught me." I crossed my arms against my chest, shifting all of my weight to one foot. I bit on the inside of my cheek as his eyes looked me up and down.

"What do you want, Stuart?" I asked, feeling extremely self-conscious of how much skin I was showing.

"Just taking it all in," he smirked.

"You don't have to be such an ass, alright?" I rolled my eyes as I turned around, not caring about the rules.

"I have one question," he said making me turn back towards him. "Why do you do it?" I felt the anger build as I saw the cockiness and judgement in his eyes.

"Not all of us can be trust fund babies, Stuart. Some of us. . . Some of us don't have a choice," I said as the tears started to build. His eyes widened slightly when he noticed the tears.

I cleared my throat, awkwardly wiping my hands on my bare legs. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to work," I said turning around.

"Yeah," he scoffed. "Work,"

"Excuse me?" I said turning around and crossing my arms over my chest making sure to squeeze my breasts together. I smirked when Stuart's eyes glanced down at my chest before quickly looking back up at my eyes.

When he caught me watching him, he smirked. "I'm just saying that dancing on guys, half naked, while they masterbate isn't exactly work," he smirked as he took a drink of his beer.

With a smirk on my lips, I slowly climbed on top of his lap, making his eyes widened. "It may not be the traditional "work" in the sense that you know it, but it gets me through school," I said sexily as I began to slowly grind my hips against his. "And it's fun making men squirm the way I'm making you squirm."

"You're not," he tried to say. He cleared his throat to cover up the moan that escaped his lips.

I leaned in to whisper, my lips brushing against his ear as I purposely pressed my chest to his. "You're a terrible liar, Stuie."

"I don't like being called that," he stuttered.

"What would you rather be called?" I asked sexily as I continued to dance on him. "Baby?" I pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, my lips barely touching his skin.

"Honey?" I kissed his other cheek.

"Sweetheart?" I kissed his jaw on the right.

"Sexy?" I kissed his jaw on the left.

"Babe?" I kissed his forehead.

I leaned in, my lips hovering over his as I whispered the last nickname, "Daddy?"

He took in a breath, causing me to smirk. I instantly felt his erection grow under me. "Daddy it is," I smirked as I reached down and palmed his bulge. He closed his eyes as he let out a moan, leaning his head back slightly.

I pulled my hand back, making him pout. "What did you say about this not being work?" I smirked.

"I take it back," he moaned, wrapping his hands around my waist, forcefully pulling my hips down on top of his. I shook my head, clicking my tongue a few times as I slowly got off his lap.

"One rule: you can look, but you can't touch." I smirked at him as I bit my lip before turning on my heels and walking away, moving my hips a little extra.

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

As I got up Monday morning and started getting ready for work, I realized I had two options:

1.) Act like Saturday night never happened and Stuart doesn't know I work at the club or

2.) Mess with him

I smirked when I found the perfect outfit to wear that would allow me to do both. It was a tight short pencil skirt that showed off my hips and a tight v-neck shirt.

I smirked when I saw my reflection in the mirror. I took time to put on a little extra makeup and curl my hair. I slipped on my black matching wedges and grabbed my bag.

The second I walked into Google, any and all male eyes were on me. I smirked as I walked into our workroom. "Morning," I smiled.

"Damn, girl!" Neha laughed.

"What?" I asked innocently.

"What's got you so dressed up?" Yo-yo stuttered, nervously.

"What do you mean?" I asked, turning around and crossing my arms against my chest.

"Nothing," he stuttered. I smiled before turning back around.

"Oh!" I smiled when I almost bumped into Stuart. "Hey Stuart," I said softly as I gently grabbed his bicep before walking past him.

"Hey Y/N," he said, taking in a breath as I passed him.

All day I caught Stuart staring at me. Whenever I noticed, he blushed and quickly looked away. He couldn't look at me all day, he avoided me at lunch and whenever he walked past my desk he sent me side glances. As much fun as it was messing with him, I couldn't help but think about Saturday night and what it felt like dancing on him.

"See you guys tomorrow," Lyle said as he walked out of the office.

I looked up and bit back a smirk when I noticed it was only Stuart and I left in the office. I looked back down at my computer, pretending not to notice. I slowly logged off as I saw Stuart out of the corner of my eye walking towards my desk.

I looked up right as he stood in front of me. "Oh, hey Stuart. I'm surprised you're still here."

"What the hell, Y/N?" He said, cutting me off. I raised my eyebrows, waiting for him to continue.

"I'm sorry?" I asked, turning my chair towards him.

"You better be," he whispered as he knelt in front of me. I bit my tongue as he uncrossed my legs and put his cold hands on my knees, making me gasp.

"I didn't appreciate how you left me hanging the other night," he smirked as he slid his hands up my thighs. He hummed as his hands slipped under my skirt.

"Sorry," I shrugged. "I had other work to do."

"Well, you have some work you need to finish," he said softly as he slid his hands back down my thighs.

I stood up, making him almost fall on his ass. I waited as he regained his composure and stood up. I took a step forward making him take in a sharp breath. I took another step making him take a step back. I kept making him walk backwards until his knees hit the couch.

I smirked as he fell back. I hiked up my skirt a little as I crawled onto his lap. "You sure you're ready for me to finish?" I asked as I instantly started grinding my hips against his. I leaned in, pressing my chest to his and whispered in his ear, "I want to hear you beg me, baby." I started sucking on his neck as I added, "I mean, daddy."

"Please Y/N," he gasped out as I bit down. "Please, baby."

I leaned back, smirking when I felt him hard underneath me. "What do you want, daddy? Hmm? Do you want to feel my lips on yours? Or do you want to feel my lips on something else?" I glanced down at his crotch and smirked when I looked back up, greeted with his wide eyes.

"I want," he paused to take a deep breath. "All of you," he finished.

"Mmmm," I moaned as I started to grind a little harder. "Tell me more." I started kissing up and down his neck, leaving wet bruises.

"I want to throw you down and make you moan my name over and over. I want to massage your breasts in my hands. I want to bend you over and fuck you until you're begging for more. I want to feel my dick inside your tight little. . ."

I cut him off by roughly pressing my lips to his. Our lips instantly moved in sync as he snaked his arms around my back and grabbed my ass.

He slipped his tongue into my mouth as I started to roughly grind my hips against his. With our lips still moving in sync, I reached down and undid his jeans. He smirked into the kiss as he lifted his hips, giving me the chance to slid his jeans to his knees. I sexily slid off his lap, pulling his jeans down to his ankles. I stood up and slipped my underwear down my legs without taking my skirt off.

Stuart watched me, biting his lip, as I crawled back onto his lap. I started sucking on his neck, making him let out a deep moan as I reached down and palmed his growing bulge. I pulled away, a big smirk on my face as I saw the group of purple bruises on his neck curtesy of me.

I looked at his very present pants tent, my smirk growing even more. I looked back up into his eyes, biting my lip. Without breaking eye contact, I reached down and slowly slid his boxers down to his knees. His eyes widened as I positioned myself directly above him. I smirked as I waited for him to make the next move.

"Now what, daddy?" I moaned out, teasing him.

"Ride me," he said instantly. "Please, baby girl. I need to be inside you right now." I smirked when I saw the desperate lust in his eyes.

"I don't know, Stuie." I said sing-songy. "I like watching you squirm."

I leaned down and pressed my lips to his ear. "Payback is a bitch," I moaned.

"Fuck me," he moaned as he roughly grabbed my hips and yanked me down. I gasped as he pulled my hips towards his, making him slip into me.

"Holy shit," he moaned loudly as I rode him. "You feel so good, baby."

"Thank you, daddy." I said into his ear as I kept grinding my hips against his. "Tell me more," I whispered, gently biting his earlobe.

"You feel so fucking good, baby. Just like that." I smirked as I watched his Adam's apple slightly twitch.

"I had no idea you were this big, daddy." I moaned as I felt him twitch inside me.

"And I had no idea you were so damn sexy." I gasped as he switched our positions and laid us down. The second he was hovering over me, he slipped back into me and instantly started grinding his hips against mine.

He started kissing my neck as he slipped the hand he wasn't using to support his weight under my sweater.

A moan escaped my lips as he found my breasts and squeezed. I silently praised the fact that I had made the daring decision to go bra-less today.

"Stuart," I moaned as he continued to massage my breast and push deeper into me. He moved his lips from my collar bone to my lips. The second our lips touched, he slipped his tongue into my mouth fighting for, and quickly gaining, dominance.

A distant crash made Stuart quickly, and a little too roughly, pull out of me. I gasped in pain, making Stuart look down at me. "Oh shit, Y/N. I'm so sorry." He instantly crawled off of me, quickly getting dressed as he continued to mumble apologies. I stood up, fixed my clothes before roughly grabbing Stuart's shoulder and turning him around. I pressed my lips to his, the kiss becoming heated fast.

I pulled away and smirked. "What makes you think we're done?" He opened his mouth with wide eyes. "Because I am far from done with you, daddy." I grabbed his cardigan and pulled him out of the office.

[ofhoneyandrosepetals]

We Move Lightly - Chapter 8

Pairing: Modern!Ivar x reader

Description: Y/N moved back in with her parents, after 7 years of taking care of her grandparents in another town. She had no idea how her neighbors would be, or who would they be, or even that she would fall in love with one of them.

Warnings: swearings. The basic of always.

Word count: 3.599

A/N: due to Tumblr’s links problems, I’m not going to put here the link for previous chapters, masterlist and my ask (which my inbox happens to be OPEN for requests) but you all can keep up with the link for my masterlist in my bio!

A couple of days later, you receive a text from Ivar.

Of course that it wasn’t his first text after that day when you met him after his doctor appointment.

But it was a text that made your heart jump.

Here’s the thing: I really wanna go out with you today but for that to happen I gotta delivery some projects first. U think we can put those two things together?

He was direct, not wasting time on calling you some sweet name (like he did sometimes) or with some chit chat. He went straight up to what he wanted, and that lightened something inside of you.

Before you could answer, he already sent another text.

After I deliver those projects my summer will finally begin and I want it to be with you - by the time I’m free of those things I wanna be with you at some nice place doing something nice. Gotta no time to waist.

After all, summer’s short, you text him back immediately. You think about how he put the word “we” in “think we can put those things together?” and your heart skipped a little bit more.

We.

You and Ivar.

It’s gonna be the longest summer, darling.

You bit your lips. Darling.

When are you leaving to hand those projects?

Around 1 pm. Be ready, I’ll knock.

You smiled and you felt like you didn’t have to answer to that, like if Ivar knew that you were smiling and that was some sort of “okay”.

*

By the time you were putting your dress on, a lightweight fabric of yellow, Ivar knocked at your door.

“Shit,” you mumble to yourself. You took more time than planned on the makeup, not being able to decide what to do. Should I put mascara? Or not? What about blush? Lipstick or gloss? You couldn’t decide, and that took more time than the makeup itself, which ended up being only mascara and gloss. You wanted to feel good with yourself and not wear too much - that was your daily makeup, on days that you actually put it on.

You ran downstairs, grabbing your shoes on the way. You put the right one and opened the door.

Ivar was wearing pants that its fabric didn’t look too hot, but the fact that he was wearing them already made you sweat. It was starting to get really hot, how could he wear that? His T-shirt was tight on his muscles, making all of them show up to you. You had to hold your deep breath.

He raised an eyebrow at you, then looking down at your feet, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Oh, right,” you laugh and put your other shoe on. “I’m ready,” you tell him while grabbing your little purse and locking the door.

“Where are your parents? I thought that they might open the door.”

“Groceries. Where are your projects?”

“At the car,” he pointed with his thumb to the black Sedan behind him. You thought that you held a surprise look on your face, because Ivar said: “What?, did you really think that we would walk all the way in this hot weather? Maybe when we get to our destiny, but not all over the way downtown.”

Yeah, you actually thought that maybe you two would walk all the way - even because you had no idea where Ivar would hand his work and because you were used to walk and take the bus.

But you had no idea that he actually had a driver license.

You wanted to make a joke of that so you could ease yourself up a little, but you were scared to hurt his feelings, so you asked: “Is this car yours?”

“Yeah, that’s my girl. I got her when I was 16 and cannot give it away. It’s not even my type of car, but… it has its meaning.” You smiled at that.

“Maybe one day I’ll know what she means to you,” you said gently.

“You’re not jealous, are you, Y/N?” Ivar said with a cocky smirk while opening the door for you. You gave his smirk back at him as you entered the car.

“Wow, a real gentleman…” you heard him laughing as he closed the door. You saw that he was limping a little.

“First stop,” he said when he got in the car. “Get rid of the work.”

“And the next stop?” You asked smiling.

“Where the summer begins,” he looked into your eyes and smiled at you. You thought that maybe he would kiss you, but that didn’t happen. You took a look at the back seat of the car to see a whole bunch of rolled papers.

“Wow, that’s a lot of work! When you told me that you’re busy with all of this, I didn’t imagine that it could be so much! I knew that it was a lot, but not… this…” you were surprised.

“Floki has a new idea and I kept working on that… half of what’s there are some ideas that can fit his own. To improve it, I don’t know.”

“You do deserve a longer summer,” you said distracted.

“So do you,” but you didn’t pay attention to that.

*

You were waiting inside the car while Ivar went upstairs the tall and glassy building with his arms full of projects. Even if it wasn’t hot or too far, you guessed that you could never go walking. You took the freedom to grab your phone from your purse and connect it to Ivar’s radio. You let your music playing in a low volume, humming along.

He opened the door to find you singing in a low tone.

“Hey, there.”

“Oh, oh, hi,” he caught you off guard, making you drop your phone and blush.

“I see you made yourself comfortable there,” he was already leaving the parking lot.

“Sorry.”

He didn’t say a word and, after he turned the volume up, you saw him smiling.

“I have no idea what you’re listening to, but I like it.”

You smiled and looked out the window. You were too shy to sing along but, inside your head and your body, you felt as loud as the music.

*

“I think I’ll call that the first stop of our next stop,” Ivar said stopping the car at the park. “What about some ice cream?” He asked smiling.

“You just read my mind; why are we wasting time?” You quickly got out of the car, waiting for Ivar. He stood at your side, offering you his hand to held. Your lips opened a little in surprise - you didn’t remember holding hands with Ivar. Well, at least not like this. On your first date, if that could be called a date (which you did like to call it) you two held hands at the dark of the café, but that was different.

Here you would walk holding hands.

Showing to everyone that you were together. As a couple.

Or something leading to that.

Walking to the ice cream shop, Ivar said: “I still haven’t said how beautiful you look today. But not only today, everyday actually, but today I still haven’t said it. Or… any day…” he scratches the back of his head. “Shit, that came out wrong.”

You were smiling at his embarrassed way, how quickly he got lost in his words.

“I give you a new chance to express yourself better, Lothbrok,” you said holding a laugh.

“Hey, don’t laugh, ain’t fair,” he passed his hand through his hair, which was in a man bun. “I ruined the whole thing.”

“You didn’t.”

“I just wanted to say that everyday you look beautiful because you are beautiful, and you look beautiful today. Just like every other day. I also liked very much your dress,” he said looking at you head to toes. You giggled.

“Thanks,” you squeezed his hand and kissed his cheek, slowly and gently.

You wished that Ivar couldn’t tell how you felt, because inside you were just a happy mess, like if all of yours cells were partying, very drunk. You were with the stars, heart pounding, happiness running through your veins.

You were in love.

After you two ordered your ice creams, Ivar led the way. Sometimes he had to pull or push you here or there, because you had no idea where you were going and you didn’t quite follow Ivar’s movements.

You were at the park, but going somewhere there that you’ve never been before.

“Okay, we’ll have to crawl here,” Ivar said.

“What?”

“Here,” he pointed to a bush.

“There’s no way to crawl there, Ivar.”

“Of course there is,” he said playful and pulled the bush up, the leaves and branches expanding to show a rabbit hole just like in the Disney movie. “Here, hold it please,” he gave you his ice cream. “I’ll go first, then you.”

You couldn’t ignore the fact that you were kinda worried about Ivar’s legs, his knees. You saw that he was taking care of it, while trying not to be obvious. “The branches can scratch a little, but it doesn’t hurt; it’s very soft.”

“Okay.”

Ivar’s hands appeared to grab the two ice creams so you could crawl.

“How won’t you let our ice creams fall on the ground?”

“Y/N, you forget that I deal with pencils and stuff. My hands are very good and secure.”

My hands are very good and secure. You tried not to think too much about that and started crawling through and under the bush.

“Hi there,” Ivar said giggling when he saw your head.

Once you passed you sat on the grass and took a look around. In front of you had a passage through trees, a tunnel of flowers. You could only see pieces of the blue sky cut by the branches. Ahead the tunnel you couldn’t see much because of the strong sunlight.

“Out of words?” Ivar asked. You nodded. “It got me like that too when I first found it.”

You couldn’t stop thinking about when he first found it. With another girl? Alone? Did he bring every girl here too? You decided to stay silent, to just enjoy the view. You took your ice cream from Ivar’s hand.

“Ladies first,” he said when you got up, gesturing towards the path. You walked under the flowers, looking up at them. They were yellow, pink, white. All the leaves had a different ton of green. The noise of cracking branches and leaves under your feet. Ivar kept talking behind you. “When it got worse I had to get a wheelchair, and wasn’t very happy about it. That was making me feel miserable. I was the different kid at school. Everyone looked at me, with pity in their eyes. I had to stop playing, running, swimming. And I was stuck in a wheelchair.” You were walking slowly, dividing your attention to Ivar and to that place. “I refused to use that thing out of school. At home I would crawl everywhere. I didn’t care, all I wanted was to not use that thing. I was 14 years old. One day Ubbe dragged me with him to downtown, just close to this park, while he did some things. I didn’t want to be with him, so I started walking around. Well, ‘walking’,” he laughed a little at his memory. “I got just near where we crawled through that bush when I saw a dragonfly. It was flying around me, and I wanted to get it, but it was a little higher than me, sat down on the wheelchair, so I had to stand up on my feet. I did that. I did that and started following the dragonfly - I remember how much my legs started to hurt. Until they couldn’t support my weight anymore and I fell. That made me so angry, it showed that I couldn’t walk anymore, and maybe never again. I started crawling, not having a specific destiny. So I noticed something curious in that bush, and… and I found this. I found this incredible place on a day and a situation that I was on my worst. Since then it was always my safe place. Now it can be yours too.”

“Mine?”

“Yeah.”

“So you never showed it before to anyone else?”

“Never.”

You stopped at the end of the path, where it opened to a little lake. There were some animals, and the sun reflected on the water. You felt Ivar stopping right behind you, close enough so you could feel his presence so close to you.

You felt something cold dripping on your breast - when you looked down you saw that it was your ice cream.

“Crap,” you mumbled, trying to clean it. Ivar was laughing, amused. “It got on my bra too, I can’t believe it.”

“I could clean it for you,” he said in a suggestive tone.

“No you couldn’t,” you said blushing, not wanting to fill your mind with those thoughts.

After you’ve cleaned yourself, you and Ivar got a spot under a shadow to sit on the grass and look at the lake.

“It’s so calm here,” you whisper, not wanting to make noise.

“It was the calm after my own storm.”

“It means a lot, you know that?”

“What?”

“It means a lot the fact that you showed me this place.”

“It means how important you are to me. How much I like you. You make me feel different, a way that I’ve never felt before. I like you that much, Y/N.”

Ivar was leaning towards you, and you moved with him, closing your eyes. The tip of his nose touched yours and you held your breath. Your foreheads touched. His fingers started trailing your arms to your shoulders, to the crook of your neck and then to your cheek, holding your face with both of his hands. You could feel his breath.

You grabbed his wrists, placing your hands on top of his, so you could feel them.

His hands are rough, the type of hands that you could never, ever imagine that could make such gentle movements, touches. But Ivar was an artist, of course his hands could perform such things.

And maybe other things.

You took a deep breath at the thought of his hands running through your body.

How hot his skin is, you thought.

You felt Ivar’s soft lips slightly touching yours, just a peck of a kiss. A hint. Both of your lips stayed like this for what felt like the longest time, until you opened your lips for him.

As his tongue touched yours, your hands trailed to the muscles of his arms, its hardness under your touch, his hot and smooth skin. You free his hair from the man bun, gripping it hard. Ivar lifted you and put you on his lap.

He kissed your lips, your nose, your ears, your neck.

He bit your lower lip, making a moan left from you and, at that, he gripped hard your hips, which made you move them on top of him. He groaned under his breath, hardening the grip on your hips and pushing you a little, breaking the kiss. He was breathing hard.

“Are you okay?” You asked him. He nodded, his eyes closed and mouth open. “Is it your legs?, am I hurting you?” You touched his legs.

“I’m fine, it’s not my legs. I just… I needed to breath,” he said with an airy laugh. You didn’t know why Ivar pushed you back a little and you weren’t paying attention, but the reason why he broke the kiss and the distance was because of the growing bulge. Always when he was with you and he kissed you, he tried his hard ass for that not to happen, but sometimes he couldn’t control it.

And that was one of them.

“You are amazing, you know that, right?” Ivar said, shining eyes.

Even though you were under the shadow, you could see sparkles of the sun on Ivar’s eyes, yellow swimming on blue.

“Hey,” you protested when something landed on the tip of your nose.

“It’s a ladybug,” Ivar said laughing. “Wait, no no no, don’t scare it away, you look adorable, just… hold still,” Ivar got his phone and took a photo of you.

You always were a shy person but, somehow, at that moment, you didn’t care about being in front of a camera. You didn’t care about how you would look, because it didn’t matter.

“Wanna see it?” Ivar asked. You nodded. “No?” He sounded surprised.

“No. Do you know how to skip stones?”

“If I know? I’m the best of my brothers.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“So I guess I’ll have the best teacher, then.”

“Guess so,” Ivar took some impulse to stand up. “There are some stones on the riverbank.”

You ran first and took a hand full of little stones, showing them to Ivar.

“It has to be the perfect stone. Here, this one. Every stone that looks like this,” you started separating them, making a pile on the ground. “You grab it like this and twist your wrist like this. You need the perfect speed, rotation and angle. It needs practice.”

You tried the first time. The stone sank in the water. You tried the second time. No success.

“Here,” Ivar got behind you, his left hand on yours.

“Are you left handed?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m right.”

“Oh. Okay, so… I’ll show you with the left hand and you try with your right hand. Here. Your fingers go like that and… when you throw it, you’ll make this movement.”

The stone flew from your hand, skipping so much that at some point it just got lost.

“Hey, you’re good!” You said looking at him.

“Told ya,” he winked an eye at you. “Your turn.”

You did with your right hand what Ivar showed you with your left. Your stone skipped two times. You looked at him with a big smile, like a child would look at its mother after doing something marvelous.

“Need some practice, just like I said.”

“Maybe one day I’ll be even better than you,” your shoulder pushed him aside.

“What? No way, I doubt it,” he said playful.

“The greater the teacher is, the greater the pupil will be.”

“Even greater than the teacher?”

“Even greater than the teacher.”

“I’m waiting for that.”

You kissed the tip of his nose on your tip toes. “I’m gonna take my shoes off.”

“That’s a good idea.”

Ivar was bare feet, his pants rolled up to his calf, skipping stones. You could see almost all of his back muscles under his tee and they working as he threw the stones. You decided that was your time to take a photo.

Your first photo of him.

“Hey!” You heard him calling for you while you appreciated the photo. “The pupil will never be greater than the teacher if she keeps looking at her phone! Drag your lazy ass over here!” You laughed.

“I’m not lazy,” you joked.

“Oh no?”

“No. It was just a picture.”

“A picture?” You nodded. “Of me?”

“No,” you said.

“Okay,” Ivar didn’t sound convinced.

*

The day ended with you sat on Ivar’s lap, snuggled although the hot weather, looking at the sunset. His arms were hugging you by your waist, yours on top of his, hugging him back. Your legs were tangled with each other. His chin was resting on the crook of your neck.

“I like it here,” you told him.

“We can come more times.”

“I thought that this was already implied,” you felt Ivar smiling.

You thought that a day couldn’t end more perfect than this.

But so did you think that that night at the café.

And that night at his house when Amy was here.

But for now, you thought that a day couldn’t end more perfect than this.

You snuggled on Ivar’s lap, being so close to him, with the sunset at the lake, the grasshoppers singing and the dragonflies flying all around. The ducks going to their way, the birds singing too.

You didn’t want to look away, and no camera could make justice to that view, but even so you closed your eyes and took that view to your mind, so later you could paint it.

You could feel the chill air coming and the hot air leaving. The sun leaving and the moon coming with its stars.

“The stars will always guide us home,” you whispered.

“What?”

“Nothing. I think the vikings probably said that at some point. Your ancestors.” You were playing with Ivar’s arm ring. He smiled at the fact that you remembered what he told you once, under the tree of his house. He kissed your cheek.

And again you thought that a day couldn’t end more perfect than this.

Taglist:  @mblaqgi @akamaiden @dangerousvikings @oddsnendsfanfics @deepdarkred @irishhiggins @tinypuppysoul @kingbouji3 @i-war-s-boner @capitanostella @loothbrok @noaor @thehuntress26 @sassymcgonagal1651 @hoodirwin5 @attorneyl @collecting-stories @certainobservationwasteland @dreams-in-different-colours @3x5gurl @readsalot73 @thisisparadisemylove @action-adventure-and-cheesecake @titty-teetee @cutiedaij @austenkingmylady @ivarthesweetheart @golden-pickaxe @lokis-sunflower-anna @bill-istvan @cynthianokamaria @slut4hazeleyes @chinduda @hallowed-heathen @cherryblossombaby69 @paintballkid711 @bisexual-dane

[littlemeowmeowschimmy]

Unexpected [Namjoon x Reader]

credit: littlemeowmeowschimmy

Requests opened // m.list

Genre: Fluff // Angst 

Summary:  Hi can i get a request with any bts member. That you push their face maskdown and kiss them? ❤️ (request by @brightjimini) 

WC:  2051

A/N: As previously mentioned I’m going to be working requests for the rest of the week to catch up to them. That doesn’t mean that my requests are closed, in fact I welcome more. It keeps me busy when I have writers block! 

Side note: This was supposed to be out on Tuesday but I had such a rough week it’s not even funny. Plus I forgot to take my medication last night so my ADHD is seriously through the roof right out. I’ve been trying to write this since nine this morning... I really really hope y’all like this!

»»————-　★　————-««

It came unexpected. How you let yourself do this... why you kissed him was beyond you. It was more than just a kiss, it was passion, mystery and much more. What you didn’t expect was how soft their lips were, nor did you expect yourself to be kissing them. How it came about, well that was a whole different story within itself..... 

»»————-　★　————-««

The sun was shining in above the city. Your hair blowing in the wind, sunglasses over, casual wear and some light makeup. You decided that today was going to be a great day, because it was a Monday. Normally, you hated Mondays, who wouldn’t? You collectively decided that you weren’t going to allow the start of the week to be so horrible for you. Instead, you wanted to have a change of pace. 

Wearing a smile on your face, a hop in your step, you weren’t going to allow it to take control. You didn’t have a great week prior, so once again, that’s were your decision came in. Continuing forth, you walked to your favorite coffee shop. There, you picked out one of your favorite lattes, making sure it had extra caffeine. Trying your best to wear a smile on your face, and keep that hop. 

To say you were tired was far beyond. You were exhausted because you couldn’t sleep the night before. Even after turning on some music, turning your fan low, and taking medication. Yes, there were bags under your eyes, but you wore makeup to blur them. Everything seemed to be going wrong and you didn’t know how to stop it. 

Trying to stay optimistic was proving much harder, considering that pessimistic was easier. With that in mind, you took a sip of your latte, smiling at the sweet taste. Moving out, you continued forwards with your day. Making sure that you had everything checked off. It was also going to be the start of the new month at work, meaning that your load would be difficult. However, you weren’t going to allow yourself to get dragged up and thrown all over the place. 

Instead, keeping a bright smile on your face, you strolled along. A few moments later, you ended up at your job. Talked with a few people, clocked in, and sat down. Logging into your computer, you set your now half drunk latte to the side. Your keys drummed across the keys, pulling up a few things, checking emails, all of that jazz. Getting spun into your work, you turned on some light music. Using it as white noise as you worked, because it usually helped you get through the day. 

It wasn’t even lunch time when your boss came around. You spun in your chair, gazing at him. Kim Namjoon was one of the most beautiful man you had ever seen in your life. He had always kept his hair short, pushed back by some gel, his small dimples, and cute uneven cheeks. He never wore a suit and tie, but when he did it was absolutely stunning. 

Today, he wore a white button up, with a white tank underneath. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing off his muscles. He wore fitting black pants, along with black oxfords. Today, he wore semi-oval glasses and his hair was gelled to the side. Namjoon stuffs his hands into his pockets, leaning against the right panel of the cubical. 

“Good morning Y/n,” he spoke his lips turning up into a small grin. His dimples poking out. To say that you had a crush on him, would be a lie. You absolutely adored him, and you found him extremely attractive. Your crush had turned more into infatuation. You’d get shy around him, even try to turn away so you were making eye contact. Namjoon made your heart flutter, yet you knew that you couldn’t be with him. 

He was your boss, and he was slightly older than you. Although age didn’t matter as much, he was still your boss. You wanted to keep things professional, however, your heart yearned for him more than you expected it to. 

“Morning Mr.Kim,” you spoke turning back around to grab your latte. It was your attempt not to look at him. Because you knew the second that you would, it would be harder to breath. 

“Please call me Namjoon,” he starts pushing himself off and walking closer. He leans down against the back of your chair, looking at your screen. “Mr.Kim sounds too much like my father.” he jokes scanning the contents in front of him. He was checking to see if you were ahead of the game or not. Since you came in a little earlier than normal, he knew that you were trying to get everything done. 

Your heart pounded in your chest, your hands feeling clammy despite them wrapped around your latte. It wasn’t as hot as before, yet there was just a little warmth coming from the foam cup. You didn’t have to look over your shoulder, you could see his reflection in the screen. Whenever your boss was in focused mode, his chin came out just a little more. 

His eyes narrowed, and his face showed little to no emotion. Instead, he was in his own little world, and you always stole a quick peak from him. Keeping his face in your mind for a later date..which sounded creepy but it helped. Namjoon moves himself back, his hands still in his pockets. He glances down at your small figure, grinning as he does so. 

“What time are you planning on leaving?” he ponders shifting the weight on his right side. 

“I’m not entirely sure yet. I might work some overtime considering the load that we have for the summer.” You mention setting the cup down then pressing your fingers into the keys. Namjoon nods his head, looks over his shoulders then sighs. He slowly moves himself out of the cubical, pausing then waving at you. He knew that you could see him, and you smiled giving him one last wave. You didn’t even look over your shoulder, you knew that you shouldn’t... 

He always took your breath away, and you didn’t want it to happen once again.. 

»»————-　★　————-««

“You’ve got to make a move Y/n!” Jimin, your best friend whispered. You both were sitting in the cafeteria during lunch. Since both of you were work a holics, you didn’t eat until two or three in the afternoon. Namjoon didn’t mind because you two were his hardest workers. So he just let you take your lunch and breaks whenever. Fixing your blouse, then your pencil skirt. 

Grabbing your fork, you stabbed your salad then moved the substance to your mouth. You didn’t answer Jimin, because you knew he was going to continue to say the same thing. How you two became friends was through an accident. You spilled coffee all over his beautiful shirt and wanted to repay him. Through that, you saw each other a lot and began to talk. Noting that you two had similar tastes in a lot, then from there you became much more than cowokers

He introduced you to his high school friend Taehyung, and you had a small little group at work. Taehyung worked in a different department so you didn’t see him as often at work. Outside, that was different considering most of your time was spent with Jimin. After swallowing, you shook your head and grabbed your napkin. 

“I seriously can’t,” you mentioned reaching forwards to grab your glass of water. Taking a sip to wash the contents down and stab another part. 

“No, you won’t.” Jimin corrects pointing his fork at you. Where you two sat was in the corner of the cafeteria, at a small little table right besides the window. If Taehyung came, there would be another chair pulled up and he would sit with it backwards. Taehyung usually ate at his desk, so he would often just come to dive into the conversation, or just listen. Sighing, you set your fork down then placed your back against your chair. 

Jimin was right and you knew he was right. But it didn’t help the fact that you didn’t want to fully admit it to yourself. It was just complicated and you told yourself that over and over again. Noting that it would be extremely difficult to even consider making a move on your boss. You didn’t know how he felt about you, nor did you know if he would even allow it. 

“Don’t tell me we’re talking about Y/n and Namjoon again,” you heard Taehyung’s smug remark as he moved forwards. You were surprised to see him, considering that it was the first of the month. He was usually loaded with work but it seemed like he needed to take a break. He pulled up a chair, pushed his work card over his shoulder and cracked open his Sprite. 

Jimin shamelessly nods his head, crosses his legs and smooths his jeans. He fills in Taehyung on everything that occurred. Your friend cocks his eyebrow, turning his attention in your direction. He simply shakes his head and reaches out to touch your wrist. His hands were surprisingly smooth, considering that he worked with wood and other rough material. 

“You need to make a move.” 

“That’s what I keep telling her!” Jimin pokes poking his fork at you once again. You sigh heavily, shaking your head in their direction. Of course you knew that you needed to make a move, but then again as mentioned previously, it was complicated. This time around, you attempted to stir the conversation away from your Namjoon problems. In attempts to get your best friends talking about something other than yourself. 

Lunch usually is an hour or so with your friends. Mostly due to how slow each of you eat because you are conversing, spilling tea, and having a great time. In doing so, you and Jimin usually bring your computers out and work on things in the meantime. Taehyung usually scolds both parties because he says you two do not know when to stop working. It’s evident when each are pulling in sixty hour work weeks. 

You weren’t going to speak for Jimin, but you enjoyed your line of work. Designing, planning, building, it was all natural to you. Everything about your position came naturally and you never knew you would be working in this field. Then again, you did go to college for it so you weren’t completely shocked. With that being said, you continued you lunch break, well it wasn’t really a break. In between conversing and talking to them, you worked on a few things. 

Then after your hour in the cafeteria, the three of you moved your sperate ways. Taehyung going back to working with wood, Jimin back to behind his cubical and you sticking your head into your computer. The time passed by just as quickly as the morning and you were left sitting in your office chair. Jimin left a few hours earlier, you trying to add the finishing touches to everything. When you glanced outside, the street lights were on and cars were passing by. 

Stretching, you let out a soft groan. Your music was the only sound that could be heard in your department. Everyone had gone home, or that’s what you assumed. Little did you know that Namjoon had stayed late nights as well. He had the months ends to finish up, the start of the month, and other fun activities. When he heard your music, his eyebrows perked. He pushed himself out of his chair, then moved out of his office. Heading towards your soft music, then smiling as he saw you. 

You didn’t even glance in his direction because you could see him in your screen. Heart pounding in your chest, you spun around to great him. This time, the first few buttons were undone and you were left looking at his collar bones. It didn’t come much to a surprise that he was in shape, and yet you were flushing at his sight. Standing up, you flattened down your pencil skirt. Attempting to give Namjoon your full attention now. 

“You should really go home Y/n,” he spoke concern filled in his voice. You nod, knowing that you should but then again, you felt like you needed to get ahead. 

Rubbing the back of your neck, you bowed your head. Turning your attention away from him, just so that you could stop locking eye contact. Jimin’s words filled the back of your head. You should make a move, yet you didn’t know what move you should make. Maybe asking him out on a date would be fine right? Your hands were getting clammy once again, stomach twisting in knots. You weren’t that type of person to step out of your comfort zone, let alone ask someone out. 

“Is everything alright?” he ponders moving himself closer. When he did, you smelt his cologne once again. Your heart pounding against your rib cage, your cheeks burning with heat. Glancing upwards you locked eye contact. One thing you dreaded yet loved about Namjoon was how easily you could get lost in his eyes. 

They were absolutely stunning. Milk chocolate, filled with a hint of honey. Whenever he was happy or excited they brightened, and when he was concentrated they darkened. His eyes said a lot about what he was thinking, yet right now you couldn’t figure it out. Your mind was too clouded that you didn’t realize that you had brought a hand up to his cheek. 

Namjoon caught your wrist, taking you out of whatever trance you where in. Quickly apologizing and moving your hand back down. Yet, Namjoon reached back to take your hand in his. Moving it back up to press your skin against his cheek. You were surprised he was welcoming such “work appropriate” conduct. You twisted your wrist in his grasp, pressing your palm against him. 

Then proceeding to move your hand back and lean up on your toes. You were going in for a kiss, one in which Namjoon wasn’t stopping you. His lips were surprisingly soft, just as you had imagined it. His hands moved to snake themselves around your waist, pulling you against his chest. Your hand pressed into his neck, fingers tangling in what little hair he had at the top of his neck. 

What started off as a peck soon turned into you deepening the kiss. Slightly nibbling on his lip, Namjoon grunting, and now tightening his hold on you. Your mind was going fuzzy, your heart was racing at a million seconds. It seemed like life was slowing down right in front of you. Everything was a blur, even after he pulled back. 

When snapping back to reality you shook your head. “I...I shouldn’t have pulled you in for a kiss I’m so sorry.” you instantly turning around. 

What had you done....

[artificialqueens]

Extra Credit: Part 9 (Shalaska) - Rosie

A/N: I’m back with more Extra Credit! This is a big ol’ chapter - 7,400 words! I left the last chapter on a cliffhanger so I won’t keep you long. Love letters welcome here or over at @aqrosie!

Previous Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven and Eight

Alaska felt like she was underwater. Everything was quiet. Pressure built in her ears. More importantly, she couldn’t breathe. Four words kept repeating themselves in her mind.

I think they know. I think they know. I think they know.

She wanted Sharon to say something, to fix the problem instantly. But instead her girlfriend, her professor, who she always admired, who she saw as practically invincible, looked as if she was crumbling right in front of her eyes.

Any pink post-orgasm flush had vanished as the blood drained from her face. Sweat formed across her forehead. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as her breathing shallowed. The phone in her hand shook, and Alaska realised she hadn’t seen her blink since reading the message. She grabbed the phone from her grip, pulling Sharon out of her fear-induced trance and reading the email for herself.

Sharon, it read, Alaska noting the lack of greeting. Bianca and I will meet with you tomorrow morning at 8am in your office for an emergency meeting to discuss a sensitive situation.

That was it. No sign off, no thank you. They weren’t asking if she was free, they were telling her they would be meeting her. Alaska wanted to say something, but she feared if she opened her mouth, the nausea in her stomach would make her throw up.

Sharon suddenly moved. She slipped out of the bed so rapidly that Alaska almost flinched. That was when they both noticed how tense the air in the room felt. Alaska never really understood the ‘cut the tension with a knife’ phrase. Now she did.

Surprised that her shaking legs didn’t give out, Sharon stood there completely naked, stressfully chewing on her thumbnail as she frantically surveyed their bedroom, which felt more and more like a crime scene as the seconds ticked by. She spotted their discarded clothes on the floor from their earlier haste of trying to get undressed as quickly as possible. She instinctively clenched, feeling where Alaska’s touch had been just moments before. Most incriminatingly, she looked at Alaska sitting against their headboard, her messy hair framing her worried face as the bedsheets pooled around her, which she was anxiously pulling tighter and tighter around her body.

Sharon let her arm drop, looking at Alaska as her eyes prickled.

“I don’t know what to do.”

She forced back tears, knowing if started crying she wouldn’t be able to stop. Alaska quickly crawled out of her sheet cocoon, skirting to the edge of the bed where Sharon stood. Kneeling, she grabbed the older woman’s shoulders, and only then did Sharon realise how much her own body was shaking and how rapidly she was breathing.

“Breathe,” Alaska said softly, looking up at Sharon and holding her gaze. “Just like you always tell me to do. Breathe.”

Sharon tried, but it was so fucking hard to breathe.

“I think I’m having a panic attack,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” Alaska agreed quietly, her tone almost in awe.

Surprisingly, Sharon cackled, one loud laugh causing tears to bubble over and run down her cheeks. She covered her face with her hands, her fingers pressing into her closed eyes, as if to physically block the rest of her tears from flowing. Alaska wrapped her arms around her waist and pressed her cheek to her stomach.

“It’s okay,” Alaska hushed her slightly frantically, knowing it wasn’t but knowing they both needed to hear it right now. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Sharon whined, her head still in her hands. “They know. They found out. Tomorrow I’ll get fired and I’ll already be in my office where I can pack my shit.”

A sob finally overwhelmed Sharon, swallowing the end of her sentence. She curled into Alaska, one of her tears dropping onto Alaska’s blonde hair below her.

This wasn’t like when Courtney found out Alaska was hiding a romance, or Willam picked up on the fact that Sharon had definitely found a special someone.

This was it. They had been found out.

This was game over.

*

When Sharon opened her eyes the next morning, she suspected she slept a total of seven whole minutes the entire night. For a cruel second, she forgot what today brought.

And then she remembered.

Throwing back her bedding, she dash the two steps it took to make it into her ensuite where she opened the toilet lid and threw up what little was left in her twisted stomach. She flushed before lowering herself down to sit on the cold bathroom floor. She didn’t care in the slightest and rested her arms and head against the edge of the seat, like a crash position on an airplane. It felt like Sharon’s entire life was crash-landing, wherein she was the stupid pilot who saw an electrical storm was brewing and decided to take off anyway, and hooked up with a student in the cockpit while she was at it.

After hauling herself up, brushing her teeth and washing her face, Sharon caught sight of herself in the mirror, realising she had been subconsciously avoiding her reflection. She winced at how defeated she looked; her lips were chapped, her eyes were red rimmed and her dark circles looked the worse they almost ever had.

Alaska appeared in the doorway behind her. It was the first morning in a long time that she was wearing her own pyjama’s, and not an old oversized shirt of Sharon’s. Her hair, which she usually wore out or in a messy bun or both, was brushed into a neat ponytail. It was like Alaska was trying to look more professional, as if Sharon’s bosses Chad and Bianca were landlords coming over for a rental inspection of their relationship.

“I made coffee,” Alaska offered, “but I don’t know how hungry you are.”

“Not very,” Sharon said.

Alaska nodded, playing with her fingers. “I almost feel like throwing up.”

“I already have.”

“Oh!” Alaska replied, before they both laughed. Some of the stress in the air lessened, and Sharon wrapped her arms around her girlfriend, kissing the top of her head.

“You look very sporty in a ponytail,” Sharon smiled.

“I know,” Alaska whined. “I kind of hate it. But everything just feels off today. I just, like, feel guilty even being myself.”

“Right,” Sharon replied, “that’s exactly it.”

They made their way into the kitchen to sip their coffees in silence before Sharon eventually brought hers back into the bathroom, Alaska following suit and sitting on the closed toilet lid as Sharon tried to do her makeup, even though her hands still shook and her stomach didn’t feel settled.

The makeup did help though. It made Sharon feel more like herself, and the act of it calmed her slightly as she felt like she was preparing for a battle. Her foundation evened out the greyish tones that had appeared overnight and her concealer hid her dark circles. Her eyebrow pencil made her look less scared and more determined, while her winged liner (though not as neat as she would have liked) took the focus off the redness in her eyes.

“I was thinking of wearing that burgundy two piece,” Sharon said as she curled her hair into thick waves she would brush out. “But I don’t want to get fired in my favourite outfit.”

Alaska slinked out of the bathroom, and when Sharon followed when her hair was done, she saw Alaska had pulled some options from her wardrobe.

“You always look good in a pencil skirt,” Alaska held it up her usual black one, “and I really like this top on you.”

It was a simple long sleeved white blouse with tiny black bats scattered across it.

“I forgot I had this,” Sharon smiled, taking the hanger from Alaska’s hands. “Thank you.”

Alaska sat on the bed while Sharon changed, feeling useless now that her coffee making and outfit selecting duties were over.

“Now I know why I stopped wearing this,” Sharon muttered, “I can never get these little buttons up.”

Without a word she turned to her girlfriend, who stood up at the same time to help her. Alaska quickly buttoned up her blouse, her fingers slowing as she reached the final few around Sharon’s chest, the both of them realising this was one of their final moments together before their world was shattered.

Alaska slowly did up the final button, and when she stopped, Sharon’s fingers found her chin and gently tilted her head up, their lips meeting.

It was so soft, and gentle, and Alaska let herself whine quietly as Sharon’s tongue lapped against hers. Sharon’s arms wrapped around her body and pressed her close, while Alaska brought her hands up to lightly pressed against Sharon’s cheeks.

Sharon breathed in, and out, and in, and out, her nerves melting away as she focused on Alaska and her breathing, just like she told her to do last night. Neither of them wanted the kiss to end, but it eventually did, and even after that they still pressed their foreheads together, not yet ready to move from each other’s arms.

“Call me if you need anything,” Alaska whispered. “Also when you know, just so I know, you know?”

“I know,” Sharon nodded. “I will.”

A moment passed, before they both spoke at the same time.

“I love you,” they said, and it was so corny but sweet and it made them smile, and they really needed to smile. Sharon kissed Alaska again, then once more, savouring the taste of her lips against hers.

Sharon eventually made it out the door, leaving an anxious Alaska to sit waiting in her apartment.

*

Due to it being the first day back from break, it was freezing when Sharon entered the Business faculty building at the university, the cold slicing right through her coat and settling into her bones - as if she needed another reason to shake. Through it all though, she was still sweating, making her paranoid huge wet patches were forming under her arms and across her back.

It was early, so not many colleagues had even arrived at work yet. Thankfully, none of them were Sharon’s close friends, making her grateful for only having to throw them a polite smile and a nod of the head in passing. She couldn’t muster anything else.

Once she reached the hallway she halted, realising the faster she made it to her office, the quicker this would all unfold. Slowly, and silently on the old carpet, Sharon crept down the corridor, passing Willam’s office which was still in darkness from the break.

Christ, she had forgotten about Willam. She didn’t want to see her today, to explain what had happened, to see her face when she found out the girl who made Sharon so happy was also one of their students.

Before she knew it, she was passing Chad’s office and already glancing inside, seeing that her light was on but the room was empty. Just a few steps away was Sharon’s office, where she could see the door was open, the light was on, and she could hear voices inside.

“… she shouldn’t be surprised.”

Raspy, judgemental. Sharon recognised Bianca’s voice instantly, even at its (rare) hushed volume.

“…I know… but… it’s going to be a shock.”

Even, calm, with its signature hint of concern. Chad’s voice.

Sharon held her breath, which wasn’t hard considering she couldn’t remember the last time she had breathed freely.

But then she thought of Alaska, and this morning, and their kiss. A flame of warmth flickered inside her body, inside her chilled, terrified bones. She heard a creak come from the room, and the shuffling of clothes as one of her bosses shifted in their seats.

“She should be here by now…” Bianca’s voice drawled, and Sharon could already picture her rolling her eyes.

It was now or never.

Sharon appeared in the doorway, seeing the back of their heads first as they faced her desk. They both wore the hairstyles they always sported; Chad’s salt and pepper hair twisted into an elegant French chignon, and Bianca’s brunette curls sculpted into a chaotic yet controlled up-do. They were exactly how Sharon expected them to look this morning, which just made this entire encounter feel suddenly so much more real.

“Hi,” she croaked, before clearing her voice.

They turned — well, Bianca jumped — at the sound of her.

“God, what are you, the little girl from The Ring?” Bianca noted, her hand on her chest.

“Sharon,” Chad said evenly, and Sharon hated how hard she was to read. Was that ‘Sharon’ a greeting? A welcome? An invitation to her career’s funeral? “Come sit.“

Sharon obeyed, passing them on the way to her desk and noticing the empty cardboard box hidden underneath Chad’s chair. She wanted to faint. This was actually happening. They knew, and she was about to be fired.

She shakily placed her bag on the floor and struggled to pull her coat off as it clung to her sweat patches. She feared they could smell her panic, like sharks sniffing for blood. Sitting down at her desk, she was thankful for the block of polished wood between them, which provided distance from her executioners and a barrier to hide her legs, as her left one just did not stop jittering.

She looked up, seeing her bosses expressions properly for the first time since arriving. Chad looked exhausted, even after the break. Her mature skin was beginning to sag, making her look permanently downtrodden. When she caught Sharon’s gaze, Chad gave her a small, sad smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

Sharon couldn’t take it. She glanced at Bianca instead, her who gave a bored look. Upon meeting Sharon’s gaze, she raised her eyebrows in her usual snarky way.

“Are you okay, Sharon?” Chad said, leaning forwards slightly. “You look a little pale.”

“Doesn’t she always?” Bianca murmured.

“I’m fine,” Sharon said shortly. She just wanted this over with. Her hands were clasped in front of her, and right now she didn’t care if they saw her knuckles turning white as she squeezed them.

“Oh,” Chad said, suddenly remembering. “Do you have a pen? I forgot to grab one from my desk.”

Sharon noticed the manila folder on her lap filled with documents — resignation papers for Sharon to sign. How cruel that she had to provide her own pen.

“Sure,” Sharon deadpanned, opening her top drawer and almost flinching as she saw red.

Literally. Right there, stuffed inside Sharon’s drawer —between her black stapler, black folder and pile of black paper clips — was Alaska’s bright red thong, the same one Sharon had pulled off her student using only her teeth.

Sharon slammed the drawer shut.

“Sorry,” she said quickly, “no pens.”

Chad frowned. “Alright.”

“Let’s hurry this along, please” Bianca sighed, making a show of checking her watch before looking at Chad. “I have a 9 o’clock.”

“Right,” Chad started, before she dropped her tone. “Sharon, I think you’ve figured out why you’re here.”

You’re fired, Sharon told herself, trying to soften the blow before her boss said the inevitable. You’ve been fucking a student and you’re fired. Pack your shit and go. We even got you a box. We think you’re so disgusting that we don’t even trust you to bring your own box, you pathetic, worthless—

“I’m retiring,” Chad said.

Sharon looked at Chad.

Chad looked at Sharon.

Upon receiving no response, Chad looked at Bianca.

“Needles,” Bianca snapped.  

“Sorry, what?” Sharon stammered, squeezing her eyes shut before blinking them open. “Retiring? Since when? I thought?”

“I know, I agreed for another five years,” Chad nodded, “but my daughter Morgan finally fell pregnant, and I just… it feels like it’s time. I want to be more involved with my family. This job, this career, was so good to me… and now I’m content. It’s time. And I’m okay with that.”

There was moisture in her eyes, and as she gave that same small smile to Sharon, she realised it was not a bitter expression, but a bittersweet one.

“Oh, Chad,” Sharon whispered, reaching out to hold her hands across the table. “That’s wonderful, but I’m going to miss you so much. Thank you for everything… I mean…”

Sharon didn’t expect to choke up, but she did, causing Chad to smile and blush as the gesture.

“You’ve honestly been such a mentor to me over the years. I remember how nice you were to me in my interview here and you were so welcoming from day one, and every day since then. Wow, fuck, I’m about to cry.”

They laughed as Sharon fanned her face while Chad dabbed at her eyes. Even Bianca cracked a smile.

“Wait, so,” Sharon frowned, “does anyone else know? I didn’t know? Why… am I here?”

Bianca and Chad cocked heads at the same time, realising Sharon hadn’t yet connected the dots.

“Sharon,” Bianca said, as if it was obvious, “you’re getting promoted.”

Doves flew through the air, jet planes took off, fireworks exploded in the sky. Sharon felt her entire body turn into confetti; colourful, weightless, alive.

“Wha…?” Sharon couldn’t even form a sentence. “How?”

“I’ve been speaking with the Head of School,” Chad explained, “and we both agree Bianca is perfect to take over my role of Executive Dean.”

“Which means my job is vacant,” Bianca continued. “So, you’ll now be the Associate Dean of the Business faculty. If you accept our offer, that is.”

Sharon could have cried, she nearly did. Instead, she swallowed and nodded her head.

“Yes,” she smiled, “yes, yes, yes. Please, and thank you. I’m so, so honoured to have been chosen.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, it was either you or Belli,” Bianca smirked. “A lose-lose, really.”

Ignoring Bianca, Chad smiled. “You’re technically on a higher band than Willam, so you’ve always been next in line. It’s not official yet, they’ll be a lot of paperwork to file, but we wanted to get the ball rolling now. I’m here until the end of the year, so the change will only come into effect next year, but Bianca and I will provide you with heaps of support in the mean time.”

“It’s nice and swish, lots of meetings unfortunately, but less teaching, if you’re getting sick of that,” Bianca shrugged, before rubbing her fingertips together. “But more moola.”

“Yes, no, that sounds like exactly what I need,” Sharon said earnestly. “Not the money, I mean, I’ll take it, duh, but I… was beginning to feel a little… stale in my current position.”

“Tell me about it,” Chad commented, making them all laugh.

“I’m ready for this, for another challenge,” Sharon smiled. Happiness bounced around inside her heart. She felt so proud of herself, so accomplished.

Also, really fucking relived.

“Perfect,” Chad smiled, passing the manila folder of documents to Sharon before grabbing her bag and making motions to leave. “There is lots to read through. I also added those sticky notes to tell you where to sign, but you fill those out later.”

“Wonderful.”

“Oh,” Chad said, grabbing something from the floor. “You’ll be moving into Bianca’s office as Bianca moves into mine. I thought you might need a box to help move. It’s a good idea to slowly start organising things so you’re not stuck doing it all at the end of term.”

Sharon forced herself not to laugh as she gladly accepted the box from Chad and thanked her, remembering how only minutes ago she was ready to throw up again right into it.

Stepping out from behind her desk, Sharon hugged Chad, knowing her retirement choice would have been difficult.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be having a big send off at the end of term,” Chad promised. “What do they say now? It’s going to be light?”

Sharon frowned. “Oh my god, I think you mean lit.”

“Oh, Grandma, I can’t take this,” Bianca cackled as Chad wheezed.

The two of them made their moves to leave, and they were almost out the door when Chad remembered something.

“Wait a minute,” she realised, “I assumed that you would have assumed this meeting was about a promotion. What did you think it was about?”

“I… don’t know,” Sharon stammered, before choosing to just be honest. “I thought the worst — that I was about to be fired.”

Chad and Bianca looked at each other before bursting into astonished laughter at the thought of it, and Sharon joined in too, perhaps laughing a little too hard before she reeled it back in.

“Is there a reason to fire you?” Bianca joked.

“No,” Sharon shook her head quickly. “No reason at all.”

*

Rushing into the bathrooms, Sharon breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was empty. For some reason, everyone was catching up with each other in the hallway right outside Sharon’s office. After Chad and Bianca had left, she went to call Alaska, but the amount of people hanging out in the hallway made her nervous they would hear her.

She locked herself into the stall at the very end before pulling out her phone and hitting the contact at the top of her Favourites. As the call connected, she remembered how on the night her and Alaska met, she had pulled her into the furtherest cubical just like this. Sharon slumped against the tiled wall, her legs weakening at just that memory alone.

It barely had time to ring once before Alaska was picking up, Sharon hearing her fumble slightly as she no doubt launched herself at her phone the moment Sharon’s called ID appeared.

“What happened?” Alaska demanded, her throat tight and her voice shaking. “What happened? Tell me.”

Sharon smiled, the phone line distorting her sharp exhale of breath into what Alaska feared was a sob.

“Oh my god,” Alaska whined, “It happened. They know—“

“No,” Sharon interrupted. “I got promoted.”

Upon Alaska’s silence, Sharon laughed. “I know, I had the same reaction. But I got promoted. I didn’t get fired.”

“Oh,” Alaska exhaled slowly, “my fucking god. Oh my fucking god! Sharon!”

“I know,” Sharon squealed, trying to hush her voice. “I know. I cannot believe it—“

“I’m so proud of you—!“

“Thank you!”

“How? Why?”

“Chad’s retiring.”

“Oh wow! So you’re now…?”

“Into Bianca’s role, Associate Dean of the Business Faculty—“

“Oh my god,” Alaska squealed, before choking up. “Fuck, I’m crying.”

“Baby, me too,” Sharon laughed, her eyes wet with tears. “It’s just been so much.”

She heard Alaska sniffle before inhaling deeply.

“I’m just so proud of you,” Alaska repeated. “Honestly just so proud. You deserve this so much.”

“Thank you,” Sharon sighed. “I’m just so, so happy they don’t know. We’re in the clear. It’s all going to be okay.”

“Yes,” Alaska exhaled, feeling the most calm she’s ever felt and smiling ear to ear. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Alaska,” Sharon whispered, leaning against the wall as she let her heavy eyelids close. Their high emotions were finally hitting her, and now she felt exhausted.

“I can’t wait for you to get home,” Alaska sighed. “I’m gonna cook a big dinner. Well I can’t cook. But I can order us food! From your favourite Italian place down the road. And we’ll have that good wine we’ve been saving! And then we’re gonna fuck all night.”

“That all sounds amazing,” Sharon moaned. “You’re amazing. And I love you. I can’t wait to see you again.”

After one whiney ‘I have go back to work’, four more ‘I love you’s’ between the two of them and a bunch of goodbyes, their call finally ended. Sharon ripped off a piece of toilet paper and dabbed away the moisture in the corner of her eyes. She flushed, before opening her stall door.

Recoiling in horror, she gasped. Her phone slipped from her hand, the smashing of the screen echoing around what she thought was an empty bathroom.

Standing there, hearing her entire conversation, was her best-friend Willam.

*

“Willam.”

That was all Sharon could say, or whisper, or breathe, because right now it felt like all the air had been sucked from her lungs, the bathroom, the entire world.

Willam stood there, her electric blue pencil skirt and blazer a shocking contrast against the white walls, stalls and sinks around them. But what was most shocking was her expression. In all the years Sharon had known her, she’d never seen Willam look so bewildered and confused.

“What…” Sharon swallowed, forcing herself to talk. “What did you hear?”

“Everything,” Willam breathed. “What the fuck is going?”

“Nothing—“ Sharon began stupidly, before Willam cut her off, actually stamping her stilettoed foot in the process.

“No don’t give me that shit,” Willam whined, and Sharon was taken aback at how demanding she was.

“Who else is here?” Sharon argued, pushing passed her friend and quickly walking the length of the ten stalls, partly to make sure they were alone, but mainly to get away from Willam. Still walking, she relaxed slightly when she confirmed no one else was prying on her, only to tense up immediately at Willam’s next words.

“I teach an Alaska.”

Sharon halted.

Actually, she almost stumbled, her knees weakening for all the wrong reasons. It felt surreal to hear Alaska’s name come out of someone else’s mouth. Realising Sharon wasn’t going to turn around, Willam repeated herself, her stern words bouncing off the walls.

“I teach a girl called Alaska. Final year. Only one with that name. Majoring in Marketing.”

With her hands on her hips, Sharon turned around, tilting her head back and rapidly blinking back the tears that were starting to form in her eyes. Her reaction confirmed what Willam was asking, but in her brutally honest way, Willam went ahead and asked it.

“Are you seriously fucking a student?”

With absolutely nothing left to lose, Sharon came clean, instantly snapping out of her weepiness as she entered complete protectiveness over her girlfriend and their relationship.

“Yes,” she hissed, walking up to her friend and matching her gaze. “We’re dating, and we have been since the start of the semester. We met at a bar on day one, hooked up, I didn’t know she was my student. We kept it going, fully knowing the consequences. Happy?”

Upon the outpouring of delicious information, Willam gasped as her face broke into a gleeful smile, making Sharon realise her anger had just been an act. “Stop it. No. Are you kidding me?”

“No,” Sharon said hurriedly, “and I would really appreciate it if you didn’t tell a single soul—“

“As if,” Willam cried. “Yeah let me just go and ruin your whole fucking life. What do you take me for?”

After letting out an actual ‘whoop!’, Willam stared at her best friend with a mixture of disbelief and admiration. “After all these years, I never thought that out of the two of us, you’d be the one to break that rule.”

“It’s not…” Sharon started, before immediately knowing she was wrong, “a… ‘rule.’”

“Oh, bitch.”

“It’s frowned upon.”

“It’s forbidden,” Willam drew out the word. “And you’re my hero, Needles.”

“For goodness sake,” Sharon sighed as Willam pulled her in for a hug. Sharon hesitated at first, before succumbing to the hug and squeezing Willam back.

“She’s the one whose been makin’ you so happy?” Willam asked, pulling back to grab Sharon’s shoulders and shake her slightly. “She’s the one got you smiling? Got you eatin’ good?”

That goofy, loved-up grin that only existed whenever Sharon thought about Alaska pulled at her lips, confirming Willam’s questions.

“She is!” Willam cheered. “This is nuts. This is so fucking nuts.”

“I know,” Sharon agreed. “Also I can’t believe you got it out of me. You cracked me.”

“I always get what I want,” Willam smiled, pulling away from Sharon and turning to the mirror to fix her hair which didn’t need fixing. “Except that promotion.”

Sharon’s stomach dropped. Willam really had heard everything. But before she could react, Willam interrupted her.

“It’s fine,” Willam said seriously. “Honestly. I like lecturing. I’m not ready for more. Plus, you’re technically more senior than me, in a lot of ways.”

“Shut up,” Sharon laughed as Willam winked at her in the mirror. “By one year.”

Sharon leaned against the sinks as Willam turned to her. “I genuinely am really happy for you. You deserve it. You work so hard, and I remember like even back last year you weren’t feeling like, challenged?”

“I wasn’t,” Sharon agreed, loving how Willam remembered. “I felt stagnant. And thank you.”

Now it was Sharon’s turn to pull her best friend in for a hug. She loved Willam, they had so much fun together, and Sharon cherished these special sentimental moments. Willam did as well.

“You’ve got 10 year coming up next year, don’t you?” Sharon remembered as they pulled out of their hug.

“Oh fuck yeah,” Willam smiled as they walked out of the bathroom, “I’m gonna go to Ibiza. Or Vegas. Or Vegas then Ibiza. I wanna do the yacht week too. I’ll do it all.”

“I know you will.”

*

As soon as Sharon closed her apartment door, Alaska was on her.

Their bodies melted together as Alaska’s hands tangled in the older woman’s hair, whose arms wrapped around her waist. Pressed against the door, their bodies grinded together as Alaska’s lips found Sharon’s again and again and again. She kissed her cheeks, her chin, her neck. Alaska couldn’t get enough, couldn’t celebrate her enough.

Sharon dumped her bag on the floor as Alaska’s hands slid down to her shoulders to begin pulling  off her coat, the passion and intensity of their embrace never wavering. Once it fell to the floor, Sharon pulled back, gasping for air before she looked at Alaska, who practically read her mind. Jumping slightly, Alaska wrapped her long legs around Sharon’s waist as Sharon’s hands lifted her up and held her.

“You’re so strong,” Alaska said in awe.

“Not really,” Sharon groaned, knowing the adrenaline would only help her carry Alaska so far.

Giggling, they quickly manoeuvred through their apartment until Sharon slammed her shin against the edge of their wooden coffee table.

“Ow, fuck,” Sharon whined, before dissolving into laughter at the sound of Alaska’s shriek as they almost toppled over.

“Don’t drop me!” Alaska squealed, tightening her legs around Sharon as she clung onto her girlfriend. Somehow regaining balance, Sharon hobbled them into the bedroom, the feeling of Alaska’s body pressing against hers fueling her the rest of the way.

They finally made their way into the bedroom, and as Sharon lowered — dropped — Alaska onto the bed, her lips parted in shock at the sight before her. Scattered around the room were candles Alaska had gone out of her way to organise. From their bedsides tables to the dresser to even the empty spaces on the bookcase, they were everywhere — except near the curtains, because Alaska knew that always worried Sharon.

“Oh, baby,” Sharon squealed softly as she looked around the place, admiring the golden shadows dancing across their skin. “I love it.”

Alaska smiled, bashfully shrugging as she laid on the bed. “Just thought I’d make it a little extra special.”

Fingers then yanked at buttons and grasped at zippers before clothes were pulled off altogether in a lustful haste. Their limbs intertwined, their lips found each other, and all Sharon could see and touch and smell and taste was Alaska.

Rolling across the bed, Sharon found herself underneath. Tearing her lips away, Alaska sat up, smirking as she flicked her hair back and admired Sharon, all rosy cheeked and breathless beneath her.

Alaska showered her in kisses, Sharon hearing her praise through her actions. When Alaska kissed her neck, sucking that one spot right under her left ear the made Sharon’s eyes roll back and her stomach flutter, she head I’m so proud of you. When Alaska’s thighs intertwined so perfectly with Sharon’s it was as if they were made for each other, her lips already on Sharon’s and capturing the moan that rolled off her tongue, she heard you deserve this. And when Alaska kissed her way down her body, worshipping every freckle, curve and valley as she went, she heard I love you so much.

Alaska parted Sharon’s soft thighs, her hands trailing down and massaging her milky skin before her lips soon followed, planting a trail of kisses leading to her centre.

She thumbed over Sharon’s clit, causing her to gasp and wither beneath her, completely submissive to Alaska’s touch.

“Look at you…” Alaska mused as Sharon bit her lip and nodded feverishly, whimpering slightly as Alaska continued to tease her with the light grazing of her fingertips. “All desperate for me…”

Gasping, Sharon pulled her thighs to her chest as she arched back, wanting nothing more than for Alaska to completely ravish her. “Please…”

Without needing anymore encouragement, Alaska lowed herself down, reviling in the whine she pulled from Sharon as her lips wrapped around her clit, her tongue lapping over the sensitive nub again and again and again. Sharon’s fingers tangled in her hair, holding Alaska close as she felt her clench and pulse, her heart skipping a beat as desire swirled in her stomach.

Alaska hummed, spiking Sharon’s pleasure before introducing her fingers, her middle one circling her slick entrance before gently slipping in. Sharon’s body was like a force; her walls squeezing around Alaska’s finger before drawing her in deeper, the feeling never enough. Alaska watched her grip the sheets, her eyelashes flush against her pink cheeks as she whined in bed, begging for more.

Suddenly, a thought hit her.

Sharon frowned when she felt Alaska pull away, the abrupt loss of weight on the bed rocking her. She opened her eyes to see Alaska rummaging through their bedside table to pull out a toy.

She bit her lip and smiled as she looked at Sharon with intrigue, the candles around them sparking a glint in her eyes. “Do you wanna try?”

Sharon looked at the strap on in her hands.

“For you?” She asked.

“No,” Alaska said. “You?”

“Me?” Sharon said in surprise, before they both broke into laughter.

“Yes!” Alaska laughed. “I mean only if you want to, of course. I got to experience its fun last time, and it’s good, and I feel like you might like it now—“

“Yes,” Sharon interrupted. She never considered it, in fact she totally forgot they owned it. But now, seeing its length in Alaska’s hand, she couldn’t stop imagining it. “God, yes.”

Pleased with herself, Alaska crawled back into bed, settling between Sharon’s thighs again. Sensing her slight confusion as she rotated the toy around in her hands, Sharon quickly and expertly clipped them into place, throbbing in pleasure at just the sight alone of the black straps pulled firmly across Alaska’s curves and the dildo now attached to her crotch.

“Someone’s excited,” Alaska murmured, as Sharon finished locking her in.

“And very horny,” Sharon sighed, biting her lip as she smiled. “Look at you.”

Alaska looked over her should, arching back to see herself in the mirror in the corner of the room. Her long blonde hair was tousled and ran down her back where she saw the straps criss-crossing over her ass. Her breasts jiggled as she moved, as did the dildo strapped to her body.

“Now I have penis envy,” Alaska giggled quietly, stroking the dildo as Sharon chuckled.

She laid back as Alaska shuffled forward, the dildo already catching between Sharon’s folds and gliding between them. They moaned in unison - Sharon at how good it felt, and Alaska at just how it looked.

When Sharon felt ready, she told Alaska. They both watched with parted lips as the slick head disappeared passed her entrance.

“I can’t feel it,” Alaska whispered, “so tell me.”

“It’s good,” Sharon said in a hushed tone, her hands already on Alaska’s hips as she pulled her forward, then back slightly, then forward again, until every inch was taken. She held Alaska against her, her walls pulsing around the length as she gasped.

“Feels so fucking good,” Sharon whimpered, her breath dancing across Alaska’s neck as she laid over her.

Gently, Alaska rocked her hips, pulling out slowly before dipping back in. She was hyperaware of Sharon’s reactions, and she took the mewling, hip grabbing and rolled back eyes as a sign to keep going. She picked up the pace, the dildo thrusting into Sharon, whose moans, whimpers and gasps rolled off her tongue in time with Alaska’s moves.

“So… good.. ah… more… yes,” Sharon gasped, spreading her legs further and pulling Alaska closer as pressure built and built inside of her.

Reading her body, Alaska slowed down, her thrusts dragging out before coming to a complete stop. Sharon whined, begging her to keep going, but intoxicated at the fact Alaska knew her so well, knew her enough to know when she was close, and knew her enough to string out her, drag her along and keep her going.

“Fuck me,” Sharon whined. “Fuck me, ‘Laska, make me cum, make me cum on your cock.”

Alaska almost came herself at the words alone. Instead, she grabbed Sharon by her waist and hoisted her up the bed a fraction. She pressed the tip back against Sharon’s entrance, watching as it disappeared much faster this time.

“Fuck yourself with it,” Alaska whispered. “I wanna see.”

Pulsating at the request, Sharon wrapped her fingers around the length before pulling it back and forth slowly, her eyes locked with Alaska’s as she did so.

“Feels so fucking good,” She whispered, moving it slowly, feeling every inch of it. Then, Sharon pulled it once, much harder this time, knowing that the strap between Alaska’s legs would press against her folds as she did so.

“Ah,” Alaska moaned, her hips jerking at the sensation. “Clever.”

Smirking, Alaska grabbed the headboard as Sharon brought her knees back to her chest, spreading herself further. Alaska rolled her hips, their new position allowing each thrust to go deeper.

“You hear that, baby,” Alaska gasped as she moved, “sound so fucking wet, so wet for me.”

Sharon almost couldn’t take it. Her toes curled, heat spiked through her veins and every one of her nerves were electrified.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Sharon whined as Alaska’s pace increased, “don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop—.”

Without breaking momentum, Alaska snaked a hand down and thumbed Sharon’s clit, watching as she completely sent her over the edge. Sharon came, Alaska not stopping once as she rode Sharon through her orgasm, the woman beneath completely falling apart as she was drowned in pleasure.

Desire shot into every corner and crevice of Sharon’s body as stars explode behind her eyes. She clung onto Alaska, feeling both grounded and weightless at the same time. Their lips found each other’s, Sharon panting as she came down from her high.

After slowly pulling out, Alaska discarded the strap, throwing it to the floor before wrapping herself in Sharon’s arms. They rolled across the bed. No words were needed as they both knew what Alaska wanted. It was fast and desperate the way their bodies moved. Throwing her legs over her shoulders, Sharon was between her thighs, her touch everywhere Alaska needed it to be and more. She had given so much of herself to Sharon and now she was being plunged head first into pleasure. She gripped the sheets, her back arching with lust as a string of moans and whines tumbled out of her.

And then she was coming, her body shuddering as desire took hold, Sharon’s lips guiding her through it as her walls clenched around her fingers. She felt like she was simultaneously falling apart yet being put back together again and again. Sharon stayed where she was, comforting Alaska as she came down from her high. Her hands rubbed her parted thighs as her lips kissed their way up her tummy. Crawling on top of her, she lowered herself down, their bodies collapsing together as the both of them found peace in the heat of their skin pressed together and the feeling of their hearts beating in sync.

*

“Why don’t we eat in bed more often?” Sharon asked, pinching one of the stuffed olives — her favourites — from its little bowl and popping it in her mouth.

Alaska smiled as she spread a tiny bit of the rich blue cheese onto her cracker, hating the fact that Sharon had gotten her hooked on yet another cheese. “Because not every day do you get promoted to Associate Dean of the Business Faculty.”

Sharon smiled. She hadn’t stopped smiling since she got home. After prying herself away from Sharon and their bed, Alaska had gotten up to arrange the giant spread she had organised as a little celebration. They were meant to graze over their platter, order dinner, and then have celebratory sex, but neither of them were complaining about the reshuffle of plans. They had never been ones to follow the traditional dating path, anyway.

Sharon felt so warm and loved and cared for. A giant wooden antipasto board was placed at the end of their bed, boasting a variety of breads, cheeses and fruits accompanied by olives, sun-dried tomatoes and even a little bowl of her favourite dipping oil. They had cracked open that bottle of wine they had been saving and their glasses of red sat on their bedside tables, the almost empty bottle now sitting on the floor.

“Thank you for this,” Sharon said for what felt like the millionth time. It just never felt like enough.

“You’re most welcome,” Alaska smiled. Sharon’s wins felt like Alaska’s wins, and that feeling was incredible.  

They kept grazing on their platter as they watched the sun set through the huge windows of Sharon’s apartment, admiring the way the city lit up in the distance.

And then Sharon remembered. God, she couldn’t believe she forgot it happened. But it did, and she needed to tell Alaska.

“Ah,” she began, not knowing where to begin, before just pulling off the band-aid altogether. “Don’t freak out, or do, I know I did, but I’m only remembering just know… because when I came home we were obviously distracted… but when I was talking to you on the phone earlier in the bathrooms at work… Willam was in the bathroom.”

Alaska stopped raising another blue cheese covered cracker to her mouth, instead staring at Sharon.

“And she knows it’s you,” Sharon revealed.

Silence.

Alaska blinked.

“Oh,” she said. “Wow.”

“Yeah.”

Another beat a silence passed.

“Is it weird…” Alaska said slowly as she frowned, “that I kind of don’t care?”

“Oh thank god,” Sharon sighed in relief, “because I feel the same? After the build up of this morning I just wanted to come clean and she already put two and two together so I couldn’t bring myself to lie to her. She isn’t going to tell anyone. And she was so happy for me. She always has been… ever since we started dating. Like, she noticed a difference in me.”

Alaska smiled, a big one that made her eyes go squinty and her heart flutter as she imagined a loved-up Sharon at work. Loved-up over her.

“Yeah,” she agreed, knowing how weird it sounded but immediately relieved Sharon felt the same. “What does it even matter anymore? I’m graduating in less than a month. All classes have pretty much finished. I’m done. I’m tired of hiding. I wanna shout that I love you from the roof, you know?”

“I know,” Sharon grinned, lacing her hand with Alaska’s. “I’m tired of hiding too.”

Alaska beamed once more before popping her cracker into her mouth, a sense of excitement about the future settling over her.

And as fate itself would have it, her phone buzzed from its place behind her on the bedside table. She grabbed for it, assuming it was a message from Courtney or Gia.

“Oh my god,” Alaska squealed, grabbing Sharon’s thigh and almost knocking the glass of red out of her hand.

“What? What’s happening?” Sharon said in a panic. “Also that was so close with the wine—“

“I got an internship!” Alaska cried, her eyes prickling with moisture as happiness overwhelmed her. “All those bloody emails. And I actually got something back.”

Sharon gasped, setting her glass down and pulling Alaska into her arms. “Baby that’s amazing! Congratulations!”

“I can’t believe it,” Alaska said, scrolling through the email agreeing to her offer of a two-week unpaid internship within the marketing department of a small ‘influencer’ agency in the city. “And it’s perfect timing. It finishes just a few days before grad.”

“That’s coming up soon,” Sharon said quietly, kissing Alaska’s shoulder. “Fuck, I’m so happy for you, Alaska. Can we open another bottle of wine? This calls for more wine.”

Alaska smiled before pecking her on the lips, already wanting to climb into her arms for round two. “Of course.”

[detrimental--scientist]

What is Detrimental Scientist’s daily makeup routine?

As a girl who grew up with books and highlighters on my hand, I never really had all the time in the world to wear make up and prioritize my looks over studies. Make up, liptint, blush on, and foundation, those are unfamiliar stuffs when you get yourself involved with healthcare students/professionals. Yes, we do know the basics, but it’s not so much of an issue if we wear it or not. I was the powder-only type of girl before, until my life’s greatest plot twist happened - my long term boyfriend cheated on me with someone who knows how to maintain herself. Reality slapped me and made me realize that, I, too, must exert effort in making my self presentable in front of people, so that’s when I learned how to apply light make up, etc.

But that didn’t really push me to join the bandwagon and dig deeper into the art of MAKE UP. I live by my belief that the best kind of make up routine is making it look simple, but fresh and classy. Girls have to remember that it’s not about applying full make up and such, we just have to own it and slay, but remember not to overdo it and turn us into a bitch or whore face. So, enough with the long intro, here’s how I do my everyday look.

1. BB Cream/Foundation

I always prefer using BB Cream over foundation because it gives a lighter look and feeling on the face. For BB Cream, I stick loyal to Missha, not only it serves as a cream, but also moisturizes and protects the skin from the sun. It costs around 1,500 php but it’s totally worth it. For foundation, I use Loreal and of course Maybelline (my boyfriend actually bought it for me lol).

Reminder: Be keen in choosing your foundation color, make sure it matches your skin tone. You don’t wanna look like a mumu or geisha ayt? Wag ambisyosa, don’t choose a lighter color lol.

✔️Apply small amount on the face and neck. You can use a foundation brush or foam, but I don’t have time for that so I just use bare fingers lol. After spreading, apply light powder (you don’t wanna over apply it, choose a powder that blends with your skin color).

2. Eyebrows

This is the best part for me because I have nice brows. I always get compliments like “how do you do your brows? Galing mo naman. They’re perfect!” Well, to be deeply honest, it’s not skills, it’s really my brow shape that makes it really good with make up on. I use Etude House brow pencil, simply because duh why not? I think it’s the best brow pencil one could ever look for. It doesn’t cost that much, but definitely not chipipay as well, so yeah, quality over quantity.

✔️You can search for tutorials over the net on how to perfectly do your eyebrows. I’ll make a tutorial pretty soon, if I get a chance to. But for now, the only thing that I can advice is when choosing a pencil color, pick the one that’s one shade darker than your hair color so it will complement. Second, don’t draw lines or fill the middle parts of both brows (nearest to the nose) so it would look natural. Lastly, use an eyebrow mascara (I use Nichido) to make the brows last for the whole day.

3. Eyes

I have three parts for this, first is eye shadow followed by eyeliner then mascara.

a.) Eye shadow

I’m not into bold colors, I only use one color when it comes to eye shadows - BROWN. I’m gonna bet on my life this color really gives the classy and pang mayaman look. One hack, you can use an old brown liquid lipstick (I use my old Kylie nude lippie). It lasts longer and the color is different from a normal eye shadow.

b.) Eyeliner

It was difficult to learn how to perfectly apply my liner, but if you want a trick, don’t use the tip to draw, tilt the pen horizontally and make the sides of the pen touch your lids. Cat eyes aren’t necessary, because for me it does look a little off the classy look. Just draw one straight line and make it as thin as possible.

c.) Mascara

I don’t always apply mascara because it’s really hard to take it off before bed lol. But if I do, I make it as natural as possible by not applying too much. For this, I also use Etude House and Loreal.

4. Cheeks

Here comes everyone’s favorite, but I think one of the most critical. Some girls overdo this part. They really think drunk blush really slays, but little did they know, that depends on the skin type. If you’re fair skinned, you can definitely slay a drunk blush look, but if you’re morena, then don’t overdo it, apply moderate amounts. And for both cases, too much blush on makes you look like the girls around q ave ready to get paid (you know what I mean). Wag pa-pokpok pls lang.

✔️What I use for my cheeks is really affordable and budget ready. It’s EB’s lip and cheek stain. I also use other lip tints such as Tony Moly and Etude of course but EB’s really the best for me because it spreads easily and doesn’t create dots and lines. I also have a powder version (Clinique) that I use when I attend special occasions. Apply a little amount on your middle finger then spread it with the other one, then dap on your cheeks, don’t forget the nose part so it would come out naturally. You can also choose not to apply blush, if you wanted to look a little more fresh and fair.

5. Lips

I have lots of lippies but currently my favorite is Maybelline’s Superstay. This is because of the fact that I don’t have to reapply every now and then just to maintain it. It lasts, no joke. And quick trivia about me, I don’t have dark red lippies. I stick to the nude or brown color because I really wanted to maintain the classy look. For liptints, Tony Moly is a favorite of course, followed by Etude and many others.

A little reminder to all of you tho, quit buying fake lippies and lip tints. It’s better to invest than to get your lips cracked, and worst thing you could have are lesions that can lead to cancer.

Brown/nude matte- I use this color whenever I meet up with my boyfriend’s parents, family members, employees, etc. Also, when I go to job interviews or anything formal.

Pinkish nude matte- I don’t know how to describe the color but definitely not light pink. This one’s a little nude but pinkish and I use this whenever I go on a date with my boyfriend. This gives a fresh and pretty aura.

Red-violet liptint- I use this to slay my party-goer look. This one makes me look a little badass chick and bold.

Light red liptint- this is my to go liptint because it looks natural. I use this whenever I go grocery or when I meet with close friends.

That ends my make up routine. If you would notice, it would qualify as a simple and light make up. There were no contours and extras, and I think that’s the reason why till now, my skin isn’t prone to acne and other skin problems. I make sure I test products first before I use, and I stick to limited make up brands that are safe and quality tested.

[thatgirlonstage]

Aftershocks

When the butterfly flits away on bright white wings, it leaves no memories. There is only a vague impression of rage, a seemingly righteous fury that burned away all other awareness. Rarely, the sound of a man’s voice echoes in their ears like the memory of a dream, giving them a name, offering them a deal.

———

Ivan doesn’t talk much about it, the first or the second time. He’s never been talkative, and despite the burningly curious stares he knows they’re all giving him, he doesn’t want to answer their questions. He couldn’t tell them what they want, anyway. All he can recall is the anger, the blinding searing anger that left it impossible to think. He endures the stares and glares any questioners into silence. The attention subsides when, a week later, the second attack comes. Curiosity deflects onto the next victim, and then the one after that, and eventually he’s not really special anymore, just the first in a long line of people who get to see their worst selves loosed on the world.

———

Nino remembers bubbles. He remembers a feeling of weightlessness, as if his own will for rebellion buoyed him straight into the air. He walks through the park and sees children blowing bubbles – innocent bubbles, real bubbles, nothing but soap and water whispered into existence on an afternoon breeze – and he can’t help but stare. Rainbows shine faintly on their sides like false promises, before the wind carries them into the shadow of a tree, where they soundlessly pop. He dreams of opaque spheres that fall to earth and shatter open like glass snow globes, spilling human bones.

———

Alya rewatches the footage of it, over and over. Some of it she filmed and broadcast herself while trapped in her own vicious quest for the truth. Some of it was regular news cameras, and some amateur phone videos submitted to the blog. She edits it methodically, piecing the footage together piece by piece, setting it out simply, chronologically. She pauses on her own face, caught in a rictus of obsessive triumph as her fingers curl around the edge of a mask. She struggles to understand that face as her, and not some creature created wholesale from fluttering black wings. Behind the mask of the girl behind her, blue eyes are wide with fear.

———

Her brother got a play-by-play of every moment, published on a blog for the world to see. Alix has confusing fragments and contradictory accounts, which can’t seem to resolve themselves into a single narrative. Her brother feels compelled to study his transformation, buried in notes of his own attempted murder. She has a blurry photo of herself, doubled and altered, and no one who can explain how or why. She takes heart at the sight of a blur of red and black soaring across the city, but something sits uneasy in the pit of her stomach every time, imagination run wild gathering into a tight uncertainty. Her suspicions are more frightening than any truth could be.

———

They reclaim their worst selves together. It was harder when it was just Nathaniel, for months on end, scribbling fragmentary scenarios. But Marc gets it, in a way that most of them don’t seem to, and between them, they rewrite their lowest moments into heroism. They are not the puppets of someone else’s malice.

———

The miraculous cure works excellently on demolished buildings or broken watches or zombie armies. It works less well on hurt feelings. By the time Kim is himself again, the damage is done. He hears the gossip wandering around school. So sad, they broke up on Valentine’s Day, they had a big fight on Valentine’s Day, they’re going on a makeup date after Valentine’s Day. He ducks his head and hurries past and tries not to imagine accusing stares following him.

———

There weren’t very many horror movies in their house to begin with, but when she gets home Mylène quietly gathers them up and throws them all away. Nino sends her the final version of the footage, and she turns the sound off, pulls up the blind to let in as much sunlight as possible, turns on her lamp, and presses play. She stops when she finds herself and pauses the video, freezing the face into unmoving pixels. She doesn’t stare at it for long before she hits the x to close the window and drags the file into the trash. She texts Ivan later. He’s the only one who might understand. He’s the only other one who was turned into a literal monster.

———

Emotions were hard to talk about. Neither Max nor Markov were much good at it. How were you supposed to articulate the illogical, explain something you yourself did not fully recognize or understand beyond the fact that it felt bad? Their discussions are halting and awkward, and full of rephrasing, but in a way it’s reassuring. They don’t have to wax poetic, in fact it’s better not to. But they get it. They get each other. They get how foreign it felt to have rage and frustration and abandonment and failure throttle them until those feelings overpowered any rational thought.

———

Sabrina tries to bring it up only once, and when Chloe speaks right over her, requesting Sabrina fetch her red heels, she never says anything again. She can’t get that upset again, she thinks. As often as she still feels invisible, she can’t let it get the better of her, or she risks losing herself again, and that means she risks losing Chloe. She tamps down her anger and frustration and tells herself she’s happy.

———

Chloe doesn’t do self-reflection or regrets. She doesn’t have a problem, she doesn’t need to get over anything. She was right, anyway. And she doesn’t remember it. Well, except for one vaguely unsettling thing, but she’s sure that she was just confused, or that everyone felt the same. She can remember her last lucid thought before she gleefully gave into her rage. She just doesn’t understand why she would think I know that voice.

———

Juleka doesn’t understand the girl in the pictures. The ones her classmates took with her – those are perfect, they’re tacked up all over her desk, and they make her feel warm inside whenever she looks at them. But the ones of the other her, or rather, the many other hers. She doesn’t understand why feeling invisible led to that face. She doesn’t understand who this doppelgänger is. She can’t see herself reflected in there, bubblegum pink and dolled up like some kind of alternate universe Barbie. Quite ironically, she never wants to see another picture of that face ever again.

———

It wasn’t that bad, Rose thinks, compared to others who brought down the Eiffel Tower or mind-wiped half of Paris. She tried to marry Ali, which was weird, but it really wasn’t that bad. She really doesn’t want to compare herself to someone like Nino or Kim, it doesn’t seem fair. She shouldn’t be that upset about it. But when her grandmother sends her a perfume bottle for her birthday, she stares at it for a very long time before she throws it away, gently dropping it into a dumpster, careful not to let the bottle break and release its scent into the air.

———

“So how come you’re the lucky one?”

“Hmm?” Marinette responded absently, more focused on her sketchbook than Alya, trying to capture the shape of the jacket one of the bakery’s morning customers had been wearing before it blurred too much in her memory.

“How come you’re the only one who hasn’t been akumatized?” Alya was sprawled across Marinette’s couch, looking at her upside down, flipping through comments on the Ladyblog. “Everyone else in our class has. You’d think Hawk Moth has some kind of grudge against us. Everyone except you.”

Marinette, pulled out of her concentration by the mention of akumas, set her pencil down. “That’s not true! she protested. “A–Adrien hasn’t either! Not that Adrien ever would, of course, he’s far too nice and sweet and kind, not that that really protects you from Hawk Moth but still he—” Alya interrupted her by laughing.

“Chill, girl,” she said. “You’re right, I forgot about Adrien. There have been like four akuma attacks at his house, I was thinking about that. Alright, so you and Adrien. What makes you two the lucky duo?” Marinette went red and tried to hide her stutter with a laugh.

“We’re not— I mean— The akuma that got Miss Bustier was supposed to be for me. It’ll probably happen sooner or later.” She tucked her hair behind her ear to hide the subconscious movement she’d made towards her earrings. “Unless Ladybug and Chat Noir catch Hawk Moth first.” She was counting on that. She had nightmares of butterflies closing in on her from all sides, of Chat’s voice calling distantly for help, of knowing that without her, no one could cure the akuma.

“Well, once you and Adrien both have your supervillain stint we’ll need to start a club,” Alya said, looking up from her phone and smirking. “Miss Bustier’s class: all your favorite akumas, all in one place. We can have a costume party dressed as our supervillain selves.”

“Do you think people would really want to do that?” Marinette asked doubtfully. Alya shrugged, the movement sliding her slightly off the couch.

“We’ve got to laugh about it sometime,” she said, returning her gaze to her phone. “Otherwise, it just tears you up inside.”

———

“Adrien?”

Adrien started, and guiltily put the child’s drawing back on the shelf. His father approached him, face unreadable, and studied the picture Adrien had been examining. He turned to look at Adrien and raised his eyebrows.

“It was one of the things you—” He swallowed and looked away. Adrien hadn’t seen the Collector’s destruction, only Chat had, and he didn’t need any complicated conversations about where he’d been that day. “I’d almost forgotten you kept this.” Gabriel’s face continued to betray nothing as he turned his gaze back to the picture. He reached out and closed the cabinet, locking it away.

“Your mother had it framed,” he said, and Adrien tensed. Gabriel turned back to him. “Shouldn’t you be at your Chinese lesson?” he asked. “I trust your regular teacher is back today.” Adrien felt a jolt of nerves. He still couldn’t quite believe the way that Fu had just walked in, as if it were perfectly normal for a magical benefactor to masquerade as a substitute Chinese teacher. Still, there was no reason his father should notice anything strange about “Mr. Chan.”

“He’s running late,” Adrien explained. “Bad traffic after the akuma attack.” Gabriel’s lips pressed together thinly.

“Go study in the meanwhile,” he instructed.

“Father?” He called it after Gabriel’s retreating back, and the question tumbled out before he’d thought about what he was saying. “What was it like, being akumatized?”

He wasn’t sure why he said it. Maybe lingering unwanted suspicions that his father might somehow still be Hawk Moth prompted him, trying to catch him in a lie. Maybe it was because he normally ducked out of akuma conversations, nervous he might forget himself and let something slip. Maybe he was just looking for his father to talk honestly about himself, for once, about anything besides work. He felt Plagg shift in his pocket, felt him practically buzz with surprise and sudden alertness. Gabriel had paused, stiff-backed and silent. Adrien resisted the urge to run.

Gabriel turned back to face him, a frown creasing his forehead in a way that Adrien might have almost mistaken for concern. He reached out and laid a hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “It’s nothing you’ll ever have to experience,” he said. Adrien frowned, shook his head.

“Almost everyone in my class has been akumatized besides me,” he said. “Anyone could be next.” Gabriel pressed his lips together again, and something dark flitted across his eyes. He squeezed Adrien’s shoulder.

“It doesn’t feel like much of anything,” he answered. “I have no memory of it. It is less than a bad dream. But—” he hesitated minutely “—you should not let it worry you.” He released his shoulder somewhat abruptly and stepped back. “I think I hear your teacher at the gate. Enjoy your lesson.” He turned and left. Once he was out of the room, Plagg zipped out of Adrien’s pocket to hover by his head.

“What did you ask him that for?” Plagg asked. Adrien didn’t answer, still looking after where his father had left. His shoulder felt cold.