#sorry y'all i was working out the plot as i wrote

[mcondance]

come close; hobie brown

getting high and talking about anarchy with some old 90's shit playing is a crazy way to fall for someone. but it happens.

pairing hobie brown x Black!afab!fem! reader

contents lots of weed, different terms for weed (mary jane, cess), talks of killing politicians (y’all r both anarchists so.), masturbation (both you and hobie), making out, fingering, riding, missionary, mating press, creampie, unprotected sex (they're horny man dwbi), dirty talk, cervix kissing, lotsssss of praise, porn with plot (sorry i love plot 🙏🏾)

words 4.7k.. back on my longer fic shit!

warnings reader wears lipgloss, barely proofread so if you see any mistakes pls shoot me an ask!, umm i use the n word once!, i’m also,, not that great at writing his voice yet so.. hope it’s at least sorta accurate :3

extras the form i wrote this in is kinda,, unique igs but it flows rlly well i feel.

song shoutouts special thanks to lipstick lover by janelle monae, come close by common and mary j. blige, and green eyes by erykah badu!

signing off happy father’s day to hobie 🫶🏾

—

not quite plug!hobie, but hobie who always has weed, who you smoke with the first time you buy from him.

you usually don’t smoke with randoms, but you hear some old 90's rap playing from inside his car, and he invites you in when you comment on it.

"what you know bout this?" you ask with a smile.

"a lot, actually. you wanna smoke and listen?"

not quite plug!hobie who's fine as fuck as he sits opposite you in his ride, tall and darkskin with cool ass hair. wild ass accent and even wilder style, but he makes it work. his music taste adds on to his overall allure.

but his political views? god. the charm in the shape of a little 'a' surrounded by a circle hanging from his mirror lets you know that he ain't like these other niggas.

he's an anarchist. so far, you're the only anarchist you know. it's so rare to find someone who has the same values as you.

not quite plug!hobie who's car you leave with music recs clumsily typed into your notes, and someone to talk about politics with, though you're too shy to text the pretty boy with the good weed, so you're sure it'll never happen.

not quite plug!hobie who texts you when you get home to make sure you arrived safely.

"driving while high ain't safe, ya know? you at home?"

"i've done it before. i made it home."

not quite plug!hobie who's so nice to you, complimenting your outfits and hair, even noticing when you meet him the 3rd time with a new style.

not quite plug! hobie who you find out has been giving you discounts when your friends ask if you ever bought from him after their recommendation, and you run them in on the details. you think it’s just cause y’all smoked the first time you ever bought from him and you bonded over political views and music. you don’t think nothing else of it.

not quite plug!hobie who you find yourself thinking about more and more often, ever since that first time y'all smoked together.

not quite plug!hobie who finds himself in the same predicament.

not quite plug!hobie who answers the door on your 6th buy in a pair of red sweats and a tight white t-shirt that hugs his lanky frame, hair tied up with a blue shoe string. he invites you into his crib, citing reasons of having no one else to talk to about his views with. after all, it's the first time you both have time to sit and talk and listen to music instead of a quick deal since that first time.

not quite plug!hobie who you get faded as fuck with, this time sharing a joint on his janky couch, heavy hands brushing against each other with each pass. he tries to ignore the aching in his very core every time you speak your mind, your aligning politics driving him crazy.

you mirror him, shaking off the.. arousal?.. no, it can't be. you can't be getting all heated just cause a man is an anarchist. whatever. just ignore it.

not quite plug!hobie who laughs when you tell him straight up, “people aren’t killing politicians anymore. that’s our fuckin’ problem.”

"really? you're wild. but i get it."

"course you do." you nod, taking another drag of the joint. erykah badu's "green eyes" is playing quietly in the background of your convo. hobie starts laughing.

"what?" you smile.

"song's called green eyes, right? well we got red eyes." it's corny and wouldn't be funny if you two weren't high as shit, but you are high as shit, so it's fucking hilarious.

not quite plug!hobie who's eyes linger on you as he pulls laugh after laugh out of your chest with his snarky little jokes.

not quite plug!hobie who walks you to your car after your smoke session, telling you to get home safely. he passes out after his head hits the bed, that after smoke sleep being some of the best he's ever had. he tries to chase you out of his mind as he succumbs to the cess.

not quite plug!hobie who lights a joint and then pulls his dick out the next day, hard and heavy, and strokes it thinking about his pretty little client— friend? whatever — hips stuttering as he wraps his hand around his thick base. he's tried to shake you off, went all day distracting himself with this and that, but it's not working.

not quite plug!hobie who cums in white spurts splattering on his chest to the thought of making you cum in a room filled with smoke, some old r&b playin as he dicks you down the way he's been wanting to since the first time your pretty ass came to him asking for some weed. he wants you bent over on the end of his bed, eyes low and red while he fills you up and fucks you good, gives you his dick like he feels you so rightfully deserve.

not quite plug!hobie who you seriously can't stop thinking of. last night's smoke session has you on edge, so you light another joint, but weed always gets you horny, so when you slip your fingers into your panties and touch yourself to the thought of the pretty darkskin boy with the piercings and cool hair pushing his fat cock into your pretty hole, you blame it on the mary jane sitting pretty in your veins.

the fault lies in the mary jane for making you think about him laid on top of you, talking you through it as he damn near kisses your cervix, his wiry hands roaming your body. the fault lies in the mary jane for having your legs shaking, imagining your pretty plug folding you in half and ruining you, leaving you and your cunt sore and satisfied and dripping his cum.

not quite plug!hobie who cleans up while telling himself that he can't do this again, that you're not interested in him.

not quite plug!hobie who you block out of your mind as you shower. what you did wasn't right. it won't happen again.

not quite plug!hobie who you don’t buy from for a minute, cause you’re trying to stop smoking so much, for a while. you still keep in contact with him, though. daily texts, funny memes, and of course talks of anarchy. one day, you call him “bee” instead of hobie, and it sticks. he likes it.

not quite plug!hobie… who you fuck yourself to again, this time slipping three fingers inside your greedy cunt to satiate the need for him. it’s almost every night, and it’s a different fantasy every time. 

in the backseat of his car, bent over on his counter, pressed into his couch cushions. your head pressing into your pillows while visions of hobie’s lips pressed to your ear praising you endlessly for being his good girl and taking him so well torment you. you’re insatiable, but when you text you have to pretend like you don’t want his piercing scraping against your clit as he eats you like a man starved.

not quite plug!hobie who has the same dilemma as you.. he can’t even go a couple of hours without growing hard in his sweats, glimpses of you spread out on his bed with your thighs thrown over his shoulders, or you face down ass up, sobbing in pure ecstasy. it’s not made better by y’all’s constant texting, more and more of your personality being revealed to him each day.

you both share one brain, really. and that one brain finds each other attractive, of course, but it’s not just that. it’s not just pure lust. you two have more in common than anyone you’ve ever met, and that sinks ache and want so deep into you that every night and day is spent trying to rid yourselves of it.

not quite plug!hobie who you buy from again almost two weeks later, two weeks that were filled with funny conversations and deep discussions of politics through text. two weeks that solidify the growing feelings you have for each other. this time, he’s wearing a pair of blue sweats and a tight black tee, and his hair is tied up just like the first time you came to his house. this time, brandy’s playing throughout his crib.

you’ve only known each other for about two months, but it feels like longer, for the both of you. you take your seat on the couch as he grabs his stash and his papers, pulling out one paper to roll up.

not quite plug!hobie who sits a little bit closer than he did last time. he smells good. your head is swimming already. 

not quite plug!hobie who lights up and then lets you take the first hit, watching you wrap your glossy lips around the joint like he doesn’t wish they were wrapped around his dick instead. you pass the joint to him and settle onto the couch, raking your eyes over his lanky frame, and what you swear is a hard-on. no way. it has to be the weed. 

he settles back onto the couch too, extending his long arms on the back. his arm comes up behind your head, and you rest your head on it, smiling dopily when he directs his hazy gaze your way. his playlist must have ended. you're left with him and your thoughts.

“you’re funny, you know?” he says through a breath of smoke, passing the joint to you.

“yeah?” you reply, hitting it again. “everyone tells me i’m just corny.”

“you’re not corny. you’re pretty hilarious, if i’m bein’ honest.” 

and there it is again.

not quite plug!hobie whose words light that fire in you again, the fire that you’ve been dousing every night for the past two fucking weeks. fuck, not here. not now. you grab the joint from him in an attempt to push more weed into your system to flush him out, but you meet his pretty fuckin’ brown eyes and they’re low and his lips looks so good and he smells so good and suddenly you’re asking not quite plug who you’re two seconds away from fucking!hobie why he’s been charging you less than everyone else who buys from him and why he invited you into his car and into his house, twice.

and not quite plug who really wants to kiss you right now!hobie can’t even joke and twist his way out of this one. he’s tired of cumming alone to the thought of you. the worst you can do is leave. but the best? god, so many things.

“'s cause i think you’re pretty. n' i really wanna kiss you right now.”

“then do it.”

not quite plug!hobie who tastes like weed and chocolate. the hand that was resting on the back of the couch finds it’s way to the small of your back, fingers drawing nonsensical shapes into it. your hands find his knee and his neck as you press your lips into his. you slide closer to him, and then he’s using the hand resting on your back to push you into his lap, hands settling on your hips as you settle above him, your hands circling around his neck.

“how long?” you ask between kisses.

“since the day you walked up to my car.” he responds quietly, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. he’s quick to trap your lips again.

god, he is hard. and he’s big, you can feel him pressing against the inside of your thigh. you hold your tongue, figuring you could deal with that later. right now, you just need to get out what you’ve been keeping in since the day you two met and you spotted the little ‘a’ hanging from his mirror.

the kiss grows deeper and he grows a little less shy, starting to use his hands gripping your waist to grind you against him. heat floods you when you realize that he's pulling you onto his cock, pressing your cunt against him, separated by the fabric of his sweats and your shorts.

you find his rhythm, falling into the pattern of his soft pushes and presses, a gentle lull of bodies moving against each other that makes you even more comfortable than you already are. soft little groans escaping the both of you, mixing with the smoke and infatuation in the air.

he lets you move the way you want, lithe fingers tracing up your back, hovering over where your hair falls onto your neck. he keeps kissing you for a minute, seemingly frozen. but then he's pulling away to speak, "can i- can i touch your hair?"

you stop moving with a smile. you nod. "yeah. thanks for asking." you kiss him again.

"course, love." he nods, and then he kisses you again. his long fingers snake into your hair, gently and softly. he strokes his hands through your locks, in time with your kisses and the movements of your hips that have started again. hands migrating from his neck, sliding down his chest, laying flat-palmed. your fingers slide under his tee, curling and gripping to pull him ever closer to you.

not quite plug!hobie who could kiss you forever. you could too, but you want more. you need him. so you pull away just a little, murmur "can feel you against me." chills rack through him at your words.

"i know. 'm so hard, darlin'." he pushes his hips up just a little, drawing a muffled whine from you.

"been wantin' you so bad.." you trail off. hobie takes it upon himself to move his hands from your hair to the waistband of your shorts, eyes fixed on yours, watching your every move. you nod, giving him permission to snake his fingers into your shorts, fingers that are met with no resistance.

"no panties? did'ya plan this, doll?" he smiles, slim fingers exploring your wetness, doing what he can with the limited space.

"mhm." you shake your head. "'s more comfortable." he hums in agreement. he circles your clit with his middle finger, dipping towards your entrance to collect more slick. you push down against his fingers, causing him to have to crane his wrist to reach you.

"can we take these off? can't touch you the way i wanna." you blush, averting your eyes to focus on the hand that disappears into your shorts.

"yeah." you breathe shakily, standing up and letting hobie pull them down your legs, hands on his shoulders as balance. your shirt is long, and it falls down to give you some modesty. hobie throws your shorts somewhere behind you before he leans back, giving you space to sit back down.

he looks so fucking good, brown eyes staring at you like you hung the stars in the sky. he reaches out for you, pulling you back into his lap by your hips. his hand disappears under your shirt while his lips find yours again, exploring you more freely this time.

"so wet, doll." he murmurs between one kiss and another, smiling when you whine. his fingers move at different speeds, pressing in different areas and circling at different speeds until he finds a combination that makes you jolt against him, whining "bee."

"thaaaaat's it, love." this time, you don't return your lips to his, instead tucking your head into his neck as you hump shamelessly against his hand, his cock pressing hard and heavy against your thigh. "keep going, baby," he urges, "show me how it feels."

and you do. you shiver and shake and whine and groan in pleasure, pressing kisses in his brown skin as he touches you the way he touched himself thinking about.

not quite plug!hobie who presses his thumb into your clit, sliding his hand farther down to tease your drooling hole. "'s wet, love. g'na feel so good 'round me." you moan loudly at that, at the thought of your fantasies coming true. you cant your hips down, sliding down his fingers until they're seated inside you, stroking gently at your sensitive walls.

pulling them out softly, he curls his fingers, twisting his wrist as you whine and mouth at his neck. "'s okay. you can bite." he nods, catching onto what you were holding yourself back from. you still don't, resign to licking and sucking instead.

until his fingers catch the spongy spot inside you, and your teeth are sinking into the column. "fuck," you damn near shout, pushing yourself onto his hand. he groans in response, pleased to be pleasing you and indulging in the pain you inflict on him. thumb on your clit and fingers playing with that spot, he brings his other hand from your hip to your hair to soothe you, to ground you.

it's sweet, really, his hand in your hair while the other one touches you the way you've been dreaming of. coos and hums meet your ears, soft sounds of affirmation egging you on to let yourself get lost in the pleasure he delivers you. arousal steadily dripping out of your hole, hobie's fingers sliding easier and easier inside you until he can pull out and slip right back in.

"you're so pretty, dove, fuckin' dreamgirl." he murmurs, staring down at your pretty face, arched eyebrows turned down in ecstasy, lips parted. the praise takes you closer and closer to the edge, his deep voice reverberating throughout your entire being, the pangs of arousal in your clit growing harder and faster. you're close.

you're so goddamn close to cumming for a boy you just wanted to buy from. his long fingers reach deep, deeper than you could ever even dream of. “hobie- i- i’m g’na-” you stutter against his neck, hips stuttering against his fingers.

“‘s okay, love, cum. i’m right here.” the rubber band snaps, and you're tightening your thighs around his hand while you shake and shiver, eyes closed tight with soft whines of "hobie, god it feels so good" tumbling from your lips. you tighten around his fingers, too, squeeze him so tight he winces, cause he just knows you're gonna feel so good wrapped around him. he pushes that thought away, though, focused on helping you ride out your orgasm.

fingers pressing into your clit and that spot inside you, he makes sure to milk every last second of your climax, eyes fixed on your ethereal features. aftershocks still racking through you, you finally open your eyes, and he takes it as a sign to gently pull his fingers out of you and wipe them on his sweats, and you shudder at the feeling.

"that was. . so much better than i imagined. n' i imagined it being pretty good." you smile and giggle, placing a kiss on his neck. he laughs in response, raising his eyebrows at your confession.

"bet i'm a better fuck than you imagined, too." the air in the room shifts again, and suddenly you're aware of his cock pressed against your thigh through his sweats again.

"bet you are."

you raise up, kissing him again as your hands find the waistband of his sweats and invite themselves in, meeting his dick that's been hard since you first sat down on his couch. "and i'm the one who planned this? you're free-balling." you murmur against his lips, and he mirrors your words from earlier.

"'s more comfortable, 's all— fuck." he's cut off when you pull his cock out of his sweats and run your finger over his pretty brown tip, dipping into his slit. his hips thrust up, chasing your soft hand. "g'na drive me crazy." he almost whines, jerking against you when you swipe your thumb against his aching tip again.

"just returnin' the favor." you shoot back, raising up to hover over him, swiping his leaking dick through your wetness. he wraps his hand around his thick base, moving in time with your teasing strokes. "you're big." you groan, hesitating to seat yourself on him.

"i know, doll, you can take it though. we'll make you take it." he speaks into your clothed chest, muffled and horny, and you’re sure he means what he says. you drip even more at his words, sticky slick wetting his fat tip.

not quite plug!hobie whose hands are on your hips as you sink down onto his pretty dick, whining into his neck as he encourages you. “you got it, baby, you’re takin’ me so well. god, she’s so wet.”

"she— fuck that's so hot," you moan, eyes rolling back at his words.

"mhm?" he hums.

you don't respond, too busy focusing on his fat cock pushing into you, focusing on the way you both make it fit, exactly like he said you would. finally, he bottoms out, your thighs resting against his sweats.

"g' job, babe. knew you could take me." you jolt against him, his heady words sending another pang of arousal straight to where you two meet.

not quite!plug hobie who you tell to move, raising your hips up as he pulls out, meeting him in the middle as he fills you back up. his hips slot against yours again, and his big chocolate eyes are fixed on yours, gazing upon you in adoration, while your eyes are fixed on where he disappears into you.

"so big, feels s'good. ." you whisper, meeting his gaze. the look in his eyes has chills running down your spine as you raise your hips again, choosing to connect your lips with his again. hobie starts to find a rhythm, now, wrapping his long arms around your waist. you swap spit with him as his hips meet your ass, taking over.

body bouncing with each of his thrusts into your pussy, arms wrapped around his neck. his lips slipping against yours, plump and wet. you both take it slow, basking in the feeling of finally being like this with someone you've wanted since you first saw them.

he fills you up so nicely, thick cock nestled in your achy walls, leaking tip just barely kissing your cervix as he thrusts just a bit harder and you push down a little more.

"y'feel me, darlin? 'm all the way in, at the end of you, god, 'm g'na make you mine." he babbles in pleasure, pushing his hips up even harder. still soft, but firm, and deliberate.

you nod against his lips, hand resting on his cheek. "feel you, bee, feel you in my fuckin' stomach, i swear." you feed off of him and he feeds off of you, kissing and slapping your hips against the others, wild and wanting. "fuckin' me so good, bee, makin' me yours."

"makin' me yours, doll, pussy's squeezin' me like she don't w'na let go."

"don't wanna let go, wan' you so bad." you confess, bringing your ass down onto his cock again. "i— fuck," you sob. his cock curves just right, and with his tip pressing against your spot now, hobie's found new determination.

"that it?" he asks, making sure to keep hitting that spongy patch of skin with every thrust, sheathing his cock in your wet heat.

"'s it, hobie, feels so good, shit." the high has worn off by now, leaving pure emotions and desire driving you two. you get tight around him again, cunt pulsing with every slam of his hips against yours. you feel so good around him, so tight and wet.

"'m g'na—, you're gonna make me cum, bee."

he moves one hand from around your waist at that, sliding between you two to toy with your clit, thumb rubbing wild shapes against the throbbing bud.

"fuck," you cry, grinding against his thumb and down onto his dick.

"you close again, doll? wan' you to wet me up, ma'me a mess," he encourages, big brown eyes fixed on yours like they've been the whole night.

"'m so close, bee, wanna cum for you, wanna wet you up."

"then do it." he mirrors your words from earlier, and the pleasure pulsing through your veins and infatuation swirling around in your blood gets to be too much, and you cum on his cock, still slamming your hips down onto him, meeting his thrusts in the middle. "thaaaat's it, doll." you hear hobie praise through the fog in your mind, bounces turned to messy grinds as you get all tight around him, cumming hard.

"y'alright, love?" he asks, moving your hair out of your face.

"mhm. w'na go again, you haven't come yet." he chuckles at your words, wrapping both hands around your waist and kissing you again.

"lay back, love." he murmurs against your lips, flipping you onto the couch. your back meets the smooth fabric as he lays you down, pulling his tee and his sweats off. you follow suit, stripping your shirt off and throwing it somewhere behind his couch. his watchful eyes fall on your face, then your tits, then your cunt, taking your body in for the first time.

he finds his place on top of you, balancing himself on his elbows as he kisses you again. he reaches down, but you stop him. "lemme do it," you urge, replacing his hand. you line him up with your sopping entrance, nodding twice to tell him to push in.

the stretch is so fucking good, his cock bullying it's way into your tight cunt again.

"fuck, that's it," he curses, watching your face as he seats himself in your once again.

"so deep. ." you trail off, looking down at your stomach, and oh fuck, no way.

"hobie, hobes, look," you urge, and he points his gaze to where you're looking.

"oh, love, look at that. can see myself, right there," he presses down on the bulge he creates, ripping a broken moan straight from your throat.

"fuck me, please," you sob, squirming under him. he nods, understanding, and finds his rhythm easier this time, lean hips slapping against you. your body jolts up the couch with every thrust, choppy whines of nonsensical sentences leaving your mouth.

not quite plug who's absolutely pussydrunk!hobie can't get enough of your cunt, the way you squeeze him oh so tight, the wet squelches of your heat drawing him further into madness. he needs to go deeper, needs to fuck you harder, so he raises up, throwing your legs over his shoulders, leaning back down to bury his cock deep inside you.

"baby, fuck." it's a gritted groan, head rolling back onto the couch as he mouths at your neck, licking and biting at your heated skin. his thrusts are slow and firm, dick kissing your cervix, the slaps sounding out through his living room.

you're both quiet this time around, too blissed out to do anything but fuck, allowing yourselves to succumb to pleasure. every inch of his cock fills you, driving you crazy, driving him crazy too. it's intimate, his lips on your neck, your fingers palming at his back, limbs tangled together. and you can feel it building up in you again.

"'m g'na cum, hobes." he moves one of his arms, bringing his thumb down to rub at your clit, still mouthing at your neck. he lets it happen this time, doesn't urge you or change anything he's doing, and you coast into your climax so gratifyingly that you almost cry, squeezing him tight once again. now, your focus is on making him cum.

"wan' you to cum, hobes."

"gotta pull out, love. we ain' even put a rubber on." he realizes.

"no you don't. 'm clean. jus' fill me up, please." in your right mind, you wouldn't let him, but you're not in your right mind, and neither is he. so he cums with a groan, shaking as he spills pressed against your cervix.

the air's.. different now, satisfied and calm. you both lay there for a while, until hobie's picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up.

after, he lights another joint that you two share tucked under his covers, hugged up like a couple.

not quite plug!hobie holds you as you both fall asleep.

[forhappysake]

Teach Me

A/N: This is my first smut and it is LONG. Sorry y'all, I love a plot. Also, not totally proofread, xoxo.

Warnings: SMUT, professor!reidxreader, implied age gap, mentions of dementia, loss of virginity, bl0wjob, protected sex, use of nicknames (good girl), sub!reader/dom!spencer if you squint

The fact that you’d managed to get into Dr. Reid’s criminology class was an absolute stroke of luck on your part. You’d stayed up until midnight, eagerly waiting for your round of registration to unlock, and you’d immediately submitted your requests and refreshed the page until you got confirmation. You were elated. You had read so much about the young doctor, only in his mid-30s, who had multiple doctorates and over a decade of FBI experience. You were fully aware that taking his class would elevate your resume, not to mention that he was quite easy on the eyes.

Of course, that last part was just the consensus around campus. He polled “hottest professor” on social media every year since he’d arrived. You stared at his professor profile on the university’s website. The picture was undoubtedly a couple of years old, with brown curls atop his head and a cleanly shaven face. However, you’d heard from lots of the older majors that he’d aged like fine wine. With that in mind, you shut your computer before crawling into bed for the night. This semester can not end fast enough, you thought. 

*Seven weeks later*

Returning from Christmas break was never easy, but knowing you were going into Dr. Reid’s class made things that much easier. It was your last class of the day, from 3:00 - 4:15, and you knew you’d soak up every minute of it. Though after surviving two other earlier classes and multiple rounds of icebreakers with your new classmates, you were starting to lose your initial excitement at what Dr. Reid’s course may hold.

You walked into the lecture hall, noting an empty seat about three rows from the front. Claiming the seat as your own, you pulled out your new notebook and a red pen, scribbling the date and course number at the top of your page. You checked your watch: 2:58. You couldn’t help but tap your foot impatiently as your fellow students filtered into the room.

After a few more moments passed, the side door in the lecture hall opened, and Dr. Reid walked out in front of the room. He didn’t look up at the students, whose murmuring had gone silent the moment he entered. Instead, he turned his back to the group as he wrote his name and the course number on the whiteboard. 

He turned back around, this time scanning the students in the hall before clearing his throat. “Good afternoon, my name is Dr. Reid. I’ll be your professor for this course.” He paced around for a moment before coming to a stop and leaning himself back onto the desk. He looked a bit different from his faculty picture. His brown hair had grown out, allowing you to see more of his curls. His once clean-shaven face had evolved into stubble, and the rings around his eyes looked a bit darker. However, you couldn’t argue, he had aged well. 

“First thing’s first, the university requires that I take roll call for the first three weeks of the course.” You waited for him to fumble around on the computer or take up a piece of paper with all of your names on it. Surprisingly, Dr. Reid began calling out names from memory without picking up a roster. “Riley Anderson?” 

“Here,” a light-haired boy in the back of the class said, waving his hand. 

The back and forth of Dr. Reid calling names and students replying went on for another minute before he came to your name, “Y/N Y/L/N?”

You raised your hand and offered a small smile, “Here.” He looked up at you and smiled back. As you looked away, you could feel his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he cleared his throat and continued, making quick work of the rest of the roll call before starting the course. 

The first day’s lecture was relatively tame. Nothing too gruesome was discussed, and thankfully the young doctor didn’t make you play any more icebreaker games. Upon class dismissal, a large line of students eager to make nice with their new professor lined up at his desk. Though you had hoped to meet the doctor personally, you didn’t want to wait around after being on campus all day. You quickly gathered your books and shoved them in your backpack before walking up the stairs and leaving the lecture hall. 

As with all semesters, the work began to pile on quickly as you did your best to keep up. Most of your classes began to blend together. However, Dr. Reid’s class was always your first priority. There was something about him that made you feel the urge to make him proud of your work. Maybe it was the way he’d smile thoughtfully as you asked him questions during the lecture or the time he’d made extra office hours for you when you needed help with a paper. It could have even been the morning you’d bumped into him in the campus coffee shop and he’d paid for your drink. As you pondered this, laying in bed the night before your midterm, you couldn’t help but feel a little silly. He did these things for all his students, right? You did your best to quiet your thoughts before forcing yourself to sleep the night before your exam. 

The next morning, you walked through campus with a certain confidence in your step. Though you had never been a great test-taker, you were confident that you were going to do well on Dr. Reid’s midterm. He’d even been so kind as to offer you a study guide, which you had been working through over the last week. You were prepared, but as you approached the lecture hall, you could see that your classmates weren’t feeling so confident. 

A young boy sat by the door, frantically scanning his handwritten notes in a last-minute attempt to memorise information. Several others followed suit.

Dr. Reid came around the corner, exams in hand. “Good morning, Y/N,” he said with a bright smile. “Are you ready for the exam?”

“Born ready, Doc,” you joked, following him into the lecture hall and settling into your seat. Dr. Reid passed out the exams. Just as you suspected, you finished without a hitch. You dropped the paper on his desk and he offered you a small smile as you turned and left the lecture hall. 

You made your way to the library to study for your fifth and final midterm. You chose your typical spot in the corner of the room, hidden behind a large bookshelf. As you settled into study, you put your headphones in. As you dove into your reading, you became oblivious to the world around you. An hour passed, and it was only when you felt a tap on your shoulder that you were pulled from your work. 

You turned to face whoever had tapped you, and you failed to hide your surprise when you were met with the dark eyes of Dr. Reid. “Oh, hey!” you said, trying to be casual as you paused your music and took your headphones off. “What are you doing here?”

He looked down at you from his standing position, offering an awkward shrug. “I’m not sure, really. I guess I just thought I might find you here.” 

You furrowed your brow. “Is something wrong? Did I mess up on the exam?” 

Dr. Reid shook his head, tucking his hands in his pockets. “Goodness, no. You did wonderful. The grade is already in, actually.” “Oh,” you mumbled, smiling a little at his compliment. “Well then, what’s up?”

He stumbled around for a second, working up the confidence to utter his next sentence. “I was wondering if you were free tonight.” 

Your eyebrows raised and you felt your jaw drop a little. Was this happening? “Uh… f-for what?” you asked, trying not to get your hopes up. 

He pulled his hands from his pockets, fiddling with his tie as he shook his head. “Ah, you know, this was silly of me. I should go,” he turned to turn from you, but you reached out and grabbed his hand before he could walk away. 

“For what?” you asked again, ignoring his previous comment. You locked eyes with him, trying to read his expression.

He stood up a little straighter, your obvious interest seemingly bolstering his confidence. “I’ve been working on an article for a journal publication here at the university. I was wondering if you’d be willing to look it over for me,” he said. There was silence for a moment before he added, “I will also be cooking a new pasta recipe I found, and I would like it if you would stay for dinner after that.”

You felt a small smile creeping on your face, but you tried to contain your excitement. However, you could tell from the blush growing on his cheeks that he noticed. “I would love to do that, Dr. Reid. If you could send the address to my personal email, I would be more than happy to be there in-” you looked down at your watch, “roughly an hour.” 

A smile spread over his face, “Great. I’ll do that right away.” He looked around the library for a moment before he seemed to realize where he was, snapping back to reality. “Right, well, I’d better go straighten up my place a bit. I’ll see you soon, Y/N.” With that, Dr. Reid turned from you and headed for the library door. He glanced back at you once, the blush on his cheeks evident as he walked out onto the quad. 

—

After Dr. Reid’s departure from the library, you quickly gathered your things and rushed to the parking lot, making quick work of the drive back to your apartment. You jumped in the shower and rinsed the day off yourself before drying off and standing in front of your closet. 

You examined your clothing choices. This wasn’t a date, was it? Maybe you should go with business casual… or should you choose something a bit more scandalous? Scandalous seemed to be the winning choice. If anything, you could lie and tell him you were going out after leaving his place. He wouldn’t think anything of it, right?

You settled on a shorter black dress that had a low-cut top. It exposed the tops of your breasts in a way that wasn’t wildly distasteful but wasn’t too subtle, either. You decided to skip on the underwear for the evening, the idea of being exposed underneath your dress enough to excite you. You’d never been with a man before, and you figured tonight wouldn’t necessarily be any different. You might as well have some secret fun of your own. 

Checking your watch, you realized you were running short on time. You dashed back out the door to your car. Checking your phone, you saw he’d emailed you as he promised: 

From: Spencer Reid Here’s the address you asked for, along with my apartment number. I look forward to seeing you soon.  -S.R.

You couldn’t help but smile as you entered the address into your car’s GPS before taking off. The fifteen-minute drive felt like an hour as you tried not to let yourself get too nervous. You entered the lobby of his apartment building, catching the elevator to the fourth floor. 

“Apartment 424,” you mumbled to yourself as you stepped off and walked down the aesthetically lit hallway. The carpeted floor was pristine, and the view from the window at the end of the hallway told you that living in this building was not cheap. You shook the thoughts from your head as you reached the last apartment in the hallway, closest to the window. This is it, you thought, don’t fuck it up. 

You knocked twice and stopped to listen for any motion on the inside. You swore you could hear the soft lull of classical music from behind the door, and you suddenly heard footsteps fast approaching. The dark wooden door swung open, unveiling the wild curls of Dr. Reid. “Y/N!” he said, a smile spread wide across his face, “I’m so glad you’re here. Please, come in.” He stepped back from the door, ushering you into the room. 

“Thank you, Dr. Reid.” You stepped inside, examining the room around you. It fit his personality wonderfully. The green paint on the walls was accented by large bookshelves and dark furniture. You smiled when you noticed the lack of a television and instead, a record player sat in front of the sofa. “You have a lovely apartment, Dr. Reid,” you whispered, in awe of the way his personality was infused into the design of the place. 

He furrowed his brow at you, tucking his large hands into his pants pockets once more. He must be nervous. “I appreciate that. But please, call me Spencer.”

“Spencer,” you said, testing how the name felt in your mouth. “I can do that.” He smiled at you before gesturing to the couch, offering you a place to sit. You followed his lead, sitting on the far end of the couch as he perched in the middle. You felt him watching you closely, so you turned to look at him. 

Spencer noticed that you’d caught him staring, so he cleared his throat to diffuse the awkward silence that had fallen over the room. “Here’s that piece I’ve been working on, if you’d still like to look over it.” He leafed through some files on the table before pulling out a thick stack of papers, held together by a large paperclip. 

You took the article from him. “Twenty-seven pages front and back? That’s quite the article, Spencer,” you joked, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. 

He blushed sheepishly. “You don’t have to read it all if you don’t want to. I just thought that-” 

You waved your hand, cutting him off. “Of course, I am going to read it all. I’ll get started right away if you want to go work on something else.”

“Actually, I think I’m going to start that recipe I mentioned if you’re still interested in dinner,” he rose from the couch, watching for a sign of your approval. 

You looked away from the papers to smile up at him, “Certainly, thank you.”

As he walked away, you continued scanning the papers he had given you. You weren’t sure why he wanted you to review it, you could find no issues. You let out an audible sigh, which Spencer heard from the kitchen. 

“Are you doing okay?” he asked. 

“Oh, yes! I’m not sure why you wanted me to look over this. It’s flawless,” you said, sounding almost disappointed. 

“I would take that as a compliment if you didn’t sound so let down,” he said jokingly, a nervous tinge in his voice. 

You shook your head, “I feel that I wasn’t much help.” 

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You’ve been a great help on this project. In fact, the questions you asked about the behavior of female abusers in class were what got me thinking about this in the first place.”

A blush spread over your face, “Really?”

He smiled, trying not to make it too obvious that he noticed the blush on your cheeks. “Really. You’re easily my best student. Your drive is unmatched, and your work is some of the best undergraduate writing I have ever seen. You should consider graduate school if you aren’t already.”

I shrugged at his words. “I’m trying not to get ahead of myself. We’ll see where life takes me, I reckon.” Spencer nodded before padding back to the kitchen, checking whatever he had put together in the oven. Almost on cue, a kitchen timer dinged, letting him know creation was complete. 

He pulled an oven mitt onto his large hand and pulled the dish out of the oven, setting it carefully on the stovetop before he turned back to you. “If you’d like to come sit at the kitchen table, I’d be happy to serve you.” You did as he requested, picking one of the two seats set at the table. Two glasses of wine were readily poured and thick, black cloth napkins were placed at each chair. You spread the fabric over your lap, noticing the careful vines embroidered along the trim. 

“Are these hand-embroidered?” you asked. 

Spencer nodded, “My mother used to live with me. She enjoys doing that sort of thing. I came back one day and she’d done these floral patterns around the edges.” He held up his cloth, gently tracing his finger along the vines and flowers. 

Despite your evident interest in her handiwork, you couldn’t help but wonder about his mother. “Your mother used to live with you?” you asked. “Where is she now?”

Spencer sighed as he looked down, gently laying his cloth across his lap as you had done moments before. “She stays in a nursing facility where they can give her the attention and care she needs. Between working at the university and consulting on cases for the Bureau, I wasn’t doing enough.” As he looked up at you again, you could hear the implication of his final statement: I wasn’t enough. 

You reached for the hand he’d placed back on the table, gently covering it with your own. “I’m sure you did everything you could for her. I’m certain she knows how much you care for her.” 

He offered you a sad smile, turning his hand up under yours and gently wrapping his fingers around your hand. “Thank you, Y/N.” Spencer trailed off, seeming to zone out for a minute as his eyes glazed over. You gently pulled your hand away from him, bringing him back to reality. 

“Well, uh,” he cleared his throat, rising from the table. “We can’t have dinner without the food, how silly of me.” Spencer gently picked up the dish from the counter, setting it on the table in front of you. You examined the dish of pasta. “May I?” Spencer asked, scooping up a healthy spoonful. 

“Sure, thank you,” you picked up your plate, offering it to him. He placed a large helping of food on your plate along with a piece of bread before passing it back to you. You waited for him to serve himself and get reseated before you took a bite. “Oh my god,” you mumbled. 

Spencer’s eyes shot up from his plate as he dropped his fork on his placemat. “What’s the matter?”

You shook your head, eyes wide in amazement. “This pasta is incredible. Where did you find this recipe?” 

Spencer’s shoulders relaxed and he let out a small laugh of relief. “Oh, I got it from a coworker. He’s a true Italian – cooks this sort of thing all the time.” 

You lifted the glass of wine he’d set out for you earlier. “Cheers to this mysterious coworker and your ability to replicate authentic Italian cuisine.”

He mirrored your movements, and your glasses gently clinked together. You locked eyes with him as you both took sips of your drinks. Something about the moment was wildly intimate and laced with flirtation. 

You forced yourself to look away, examining the cloth on your lap. “So, uh,” you stuttered, “are you looking forward to the end of the semester?”

Spencer took a bite of his pasta, mulling this over for moment. “Well,” he started, “yes and no. How about you?” He looked you over. You wondered if he was trying to profile you based on his careful examination of your body language and facial expressions. 

You chose to shrug, “Yes and no.”

“Why’s that?” he asked. 

“Oh, I’m not sure. There are some classes I’ll miss. Yours, of course.” 

He smiled shyly, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should. I love your class, but it’s really more than that,” you mumbled, refusing to make eye contact as you fiddled with the hem of your dress. 

He quietly rose from the table and approached your side, looking down at you carefully. “Tell me,” he whispered. He leaned down to you, putting a hand under your chin and forcing you to look at him. He placed his large hands on either side of your face, as one of his thumbs gently caressed your cheekbone. “Tell me if I’m reading this wrong,” he whispered. His dark eyes scanned your own. “Tell me if I’m reading this wrong and we can forget this. We’ll never talk about this again.” 

You swallowed nervously. “You’re not reading this wrong,” you answered quietly. You brought one of your hands up to cover one resting on your face. 

You rose from your seat and he followed suit. He stood several inches taller than you, adding to the strange power dynamic between the two of you. 

He lowered his hands, running them over your shoulders and down your arms until he slipped his hands around your hips, holding you in place in front of him as he looked at you. You could see the way he held himself back from you. He was trying to decide just how far he should go. 

You sighed and reached for him. “I’m not made of glass, you know,” you whispered jokingly, hanging your arms loosely from his neck to pull him a bit closer to you. He complied, leaning over you silently as your words hung in the air between you. 

“This entire situation is delicate,” he said in a serious tone. “I just don’t want to overstep.” 

“Spencer,” you laughed. “I’m standing in your apartment, calling you by your first name. Your hands are wrapped around my hips. I’m hanging off your neck. Don’t you think we’ve already overstepped?” 

He considered this for a second, looking around the room. “I suppose. What are you thinking?” he asked genuinely, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. 

“I’m thinking,” you said, pressing your body against his, “that I would love to push some more boundaries with you.” 

As much as he tried to deny it, he found himself giving in to you. Spencer closed his eyes, letting the scent of your perfume flood his senses. “You have no idea how long I’ve thought about this,” he whispered. 

“Tell me,” you pressed a gentle kiss to his neck. He leaned back, allowing you full access.

“Fuck-” he murmured, “I noticed you from the beginning. You…” His words trailed off into a groan as you gently sucked on his neck. He ran a hand down your body, pressing you against him with a large hand on the small of your back. “You’re always so attentive, so eager to learn.”

You hummed in agreement, continuing to trail your lips up and down his neck. “Is there anything else you can teach me?” you whispered dangerously close to his ear. 

He pulled away, placing a gentle hand around your waist, guiding you into the hallway of his apartment. “Where are we going?” you asked. 

“My bedroom,” he said. His hand tightened around your waist as he reached for the door. 

The two of you stumbled inside, unable to keep your hands off each other. You found yourself falling backwards on his bed as he leaned over you, catching your lips in a kiss once again. You ran your hands through his soft curls and thought of all the times you’d berated yourself for imagining this exact moment. This couldn’t be happening. 

“I’m not going to go easy on you,” he mumbled against your lips. You felt a tinge of anxiety. Was now the time to tell him you really had no idea what you’re doing? He ran his hands up the back of your thighs, lifting the hem of your dress and revealing your lack of underwear to him. “No underwear?” he asked, smile evident on his lips as he leaned over you, leaving your back pressing against his clothed chest. 

You blushed, trying not to let on that you’d secretly been praying for this to happen all evening. Of course, Spencer already knew that. You were putty in his hands. 

He lifted himself off of you, and you rolled over to face him as he stood over you. “Stand up,” he said. You did as you were told, rising in front of him. You stayed still as he circled you a moment, almost as if you were some kind of prey. Spencer found the zipper to your dress. He rested his hand on it for a moment, leaning forward to offer you a soft kiss on the cheek. You took it as his way of asking for your consent, so you nodded, to which he immediately began unzipping the back of your dress. 

The black material fell from your shoulders and soon laid limply at your feet. Spencer let out a quiet moan as he turned you around to face him. You were completely bare before him. “My god, Y/N,” he mumbled. 

His lips attacked yours as he pushed you back on to the bed, your dress forgotten on the floor as his hands explored your body. He placed both his hands around your breasts, squeezing them gently as he began kissing down your neck. Spencer’s descent down your body continued with the utmost purpose, as you saw him lowering himself off the bed and down on to his knees in front of you. 

“W-what are you doing?” you asked nervously. 

Spencer looked up from your body to meet your eyes. “I want to taste you,” he said, matter of factly. 

As hot as the statement was, you couldn’t overcome the insecurity and anxiety that had seeped into your mind. In one flash, the confession fell from your lips. “I’ve never done this before,” you whispered, voice barely audible. 

Spencer stopped immediately, completely removing his gaze from your naked figure to focus on your face. He rose from his knees and sat himself on the edge of his bed. “You’ve never had sex before?” Spencer asked gently, looking you in the eyes the entire time. 

You nodded, suddenly feeling extremely vulnerable in front of him. “I probably should have disclosed that sooner. I’m sorry, I know it’s a major turn off,” you started to sit up, reaching for your dress on the floor. As you did, Spencer grabbed your wrist, forcing you to stop and look at him. 

“Quite the opposite, actually,” he said. 

You furrowed your brow at him. “Really?” 

He cupped your face with his hands, gently tracing the edge of your jaw with his thumbs. “I know our situation isn’t the most conventional, but if you let me, I promise I’ll take care of you.”

You bit your lip in anticipation. “Okay,” you nodded. 

“Okay,” he whispered. “I want you to lay back for me, and I’ll make you feel good.”

You couldn’t help but trust him as you laid back on to the bed. He dropped to his knees once more, running his hands over your thighs before pulling them apart, exposing you to him. Spencer lunged forward, licking an experimental stripe up your slit to gauge your reaction. You’d never felt anything like it before, and you couldn’t help but moan as he continued his movements, focusing his attention on your clit. 

“Spencer,” you groaned. Your hand found its way to his mess of curls, tugging sharply. He moaned into your center, the vibrations nearly sending you over the edge. “I-I’m close,” you whined, continuing to hold the back of his head. 

You heard him speak from between your legs, “Let go, baby. I’ve got you.” Spencer dove back into your core, wrapping his lips around your clit. 

A sudden intrusion caused your legs to jerk, and you realized he’d inserted a finger into you. The mixture of the wonderful pressure he was placing on your bundle of nerves and the new sensation of his finger thrusting inside you sent you over the edge. You came hard, loosing your grip on the back of his head as you did. 

Spencer remained on his knees, lapping up what he could of you release before he rose to meet you on the bed. “You’re such a good girl,” he said, placing a soft kiss on your forehead as he laid next to you. 

You hummed in satisfaction, forcing yourself to open your eyes. He brushed a strand of hair out of your face. You couldn’t help but notice the sinful amount of clothes that were still on his body. You expressed this by tugging gently on his tie, “Why am I the only one who’s naked?” 

Spencer chuckled. “We can fix that,” he said, rising from the bed. He made quick work of his tie, and undid the buttons on his dress shirt as you watched in awe. As Spencer shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, you took in his physique. Though thin and tall, his muscles were pronounced. You noted a few scars scattered about his figure, and wondered if you could get him to tell the stories behind them. His voice brought you out of  your thoughts. “You’re staring,” he said as he slowly undid his belt. 

You shrugged from your position on the bed, “I like what I see.” 

He let out a quiet laugh as he discarded his belt on the floor next to the bed, the hard leather hitting the floor with a loud thunk. Spencer peeled his pants off his legs, neatly folding them and setting them on a dresser next to the door. You couldn’t help but notice the large tent in his boxers, and found yourself wondering what exactly he was hiding under there. 

Before you could stop yourself, you slid off the bed and stood in front of him. He raised an eyebrow at you, indicating his confusion as you dropped to your knees in front of him. “What do you think you’re doing?” he said with a tinge of humor in his voice. 

“Returning the favor,” you said shyly, not wanting to meet his gaze. 

A large hand came to rest gently on your head as he ran his fingers through your hair, “You don’t have to do this, you know. This is about you.”

You shook your head, finally mustering up the courage to look up at him. “I want to. I want you to teach me,” you whispered. 

That statement was enough to bring an end to his objections. Spencer smiled down at you with a sigh, “Pretty girl. Go ahead.” You smiled happily at the compliment and the permission to continue. You placed a few simple kissed above the hem of his boxers before locking your fingers under the seam and pulling them down completely. Spencer assisted by stepping out of his boxers, and he stood completely bare in front of you. You stared at his figure once more, eyes wide at the sight of him. His length was intimidating, especially for someone as inexperienced as yourself. You were unsure of how to proceed. 

Spencer leant down quietly and took your hand from his thigh, moving it to wrap around the base of his cock. “Now, just move your hand back and forth until you find a rhythm,” he encouraged. Like a student eager to please, you followed his instructions. After a moment he spoke again, “You’re doing so good, pretty girl.” 

You weren’t sure if it was your need to praise him or the flash of unadulterated lust you felt at that moment, but you leaned forward and slid the tip of his dick into your mouth. Spencer looked down at you through hooded eyes, the silent act urging you to continue. You opened your throat the best you could, sliding him further into your mouth until you couldn’t anymore. You wrapped your hand around the rest of him and, in time with the bobs of your head, stroked what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. 

“Y/N,” Spencer groaned from above, placing an encouraging hand on the back of your head. He held your hair tightly. “Relax, baby,” he murmured. You slowed your movements so that he could fuck your throat at his own pace. You could tell he was holding himself back for your sake, and your heart swelled at how gentle he was trying to be during such a filthy act. 

You closed your eyes, becoming accustomed to the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat, timing your breaths to the thrust of his hips. Suddenly, you felt the hold on the back of your head let up as Spencer pulled completely out of your mouth. “I’d love to keep doing that,” he said, out of breath, “but there are other places I’d like to finish tonight.” 

You blushed at the implication of his words. He reached a hand out to you, helping you stand up from the ground and pulling you into a passionate kiss. Spencer’s tongue entered your mouth as he moaned into the kiss, hands exploring your figure as he pushed you back towards the bed. You let yourself fall, the soft mattress greeting you as Spencer continued kissing you. 

He reached a hand down between the two of you, taking a hold of one of your thighs and spreading your legs open for him. Spencer pulled away from the kiss, meeting your eyes. “Do you still want to do this?” he asked. 

You nodded. “I want to do this with you, Spencer.”

“You have to be vocal,” he said, continuing to look down at you. “I want you to tell me what you feel and what you need.”  You agreed.  

He kissed you gently once more before guiding his hand in between your legs, pushing a single finger into your opening. Spencer thrusted the digit in and out of you slowly, allowing you to get used to the feeling. “Do you think you can take another one?” he asked quietly. 

You nodded, “Yes.” He gently pulled his fingers out of you, the next intrusion stretching you more than the last. He worked his index and middle fingers in and out of your opening as you moaned under him. 

After another minute, he pulled away from you. “You’re doing so good,” Spencer encouraged. He gave himself a couple quick strokes as he reached over to his side table, pulling a condom out of the drawer. He slid the condom over himself and positioned both your legs on either side of his body, lining himself up with your entrance. “Remember, you have to tell me what you’re feeling. Okay?” 

He rubbed soothing circles on your thigh with one hand as he gently rubbed his cock up and down your folds, collecting your wetness. You whimpered as Spencer pressed his tip into your entrance, body jerking inadvertantly as he continued to enter you. He peppered your collar with kisses as he continued. There was a small tinge of pain which brought tears to the corner of your eyes, but the pleasure was overriding the minor discomfort you felt. After fully entering you, he paused, allowing you to adjust.  

“How does it feel?” he asked. Your eyes, which had been squeezed shut, fluttered open at his voice. 

“Spencer-” you stuttered, “m-move. Please.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before pulling himself back and entering you slowly once again. 

“God, you’re so tight,” he groaned above you. You couldn’t respond, too focused on the feeling of him thrusting in and out of you to begin to form a reply. “I wish you could see yourself right now,” he whispered, peppering your cheeks with kisses, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You moaned at his praise, and you felt yourself tightening around his cock. “You like it when I tell you how good you’re doing?” Spencer asked, a mischievous smirk rising to his lips. “You’re such a good girl, Y/N. You’re taking me so well,” he punctuated the final two words with sharp thrusts of his hips.

Between the words coming out of his mouth and the consistent movement of his hips, you knew you wouldn’t last long. You moaned, dragging your fingernails down his chest in an attempt to let him know. “Words, baby,” he encouraged. 

“I-” you groaned, “I’m gonna cum.” 

Spencer nodded, lifting himself up on his right arm to create some distance between you. “Hold on for me, one second.” He snaked a single hand down your torso, reaching your clit. He began drawing tight circles on your clit, causing your legs to shake as you tightened around him. Spencer leaned down to you and pressed his body against yours, “Let go, I’ve got you.”

With his permission, your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks. Your back arched off the bed as you squeezed your eyes shut, Spencer’s name falling off your lips. Driven by the feeling of you constricting around his cock, Spencer drove one final thrust into you, pushing himself in to the hilt. 

You felt an unfamiliar sensation as he finished into the condom inside of you, lips parted in a silent groan as he held himself above you, staring deep into your eyes. “Good girl,” he whispered one more time as he collapsed on top of you. You both laid there for a second in a futile attempt to catch your breath. He leaned up, placing a soft kiss on your lips before he pulled out of you, causing you to moan at the sensation. “I’ll be right back,” he said. 

You heard him exit his bedroom, and the sound of water running drew your attention to the bathroom. A moment later, Spencer reentered the bedroom. “Come on, baby. Let’s get cleaned up.” It was then you became aware of the amount of sweat coating your body, as well as the wetness coating your inner thighs. You accepted his outstretched hand as he lead you to his bathroom, allowing you to sink into the bathtub before he followed suit. He climbed in behind you, allowing you to lean back against him. “How do you feel?” he asked. 

You turned your head to look at him, “I feel great.” You sat in silence for a second, a smile spreading across your face. 

“What?” Spencer asked. 

You shook your head, covering your face before letting out a small giggle. 

Spencer’s smile mirrored your own. “C’mon now, what is it?”  

“I guess you did have a lot to teach me, Dr. Reid.” You turned to look at him, eyes meeting for the first time since entering the bathtub. 

Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, lips dangerously close to your ear. “Believe me, there’s lots for you to learn, if you’re interested.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you asking me on a date, Doc?” 

He sighed, leaning back against the bathtub. “Sure am.”

“Maybe next time, we’ll actually make it through dinner and get to dessert,” you said with a laugh. 

“I don’t know,” he said, leaning around to look at you. He lowered his voice, “Now that I know what you taste like, you’re my favorite dessert.”

[respectthepetty]

Dunk and Joong could have offered me anything in 2024, and I would have taken it, gladly, no questions because my ass is a Jaidee fan first and a human second. But to hand me The Heart Killers? Oh! Let me list all the reasons y'all gonna hate me when this comes out.

Joong plays Khao's older brother

Khaotung is older than Joong, but in BL Land that doesn't matter because Khao is playing the hopeless romantic little brother while Joong is playing his stern older brother. Someone already wrote it was 10 Things I Hate About You/The Taming of the Shrew, and Shakespeare would be thrilled to know one of his masterpieces is getting the queer treatment and it's not Twelfth Night.

Dunk is playing the crazy seducer

Boy wants a car and is willing to go to great lengths to do it, including distracting some dude, so his buddy can play house with that dude's little brother. But the whole point is they had to find a guy who was crazy enough to accept the offer in the first place >insert Dunk's character< so the guy isn't just wanting the car. He is doing this for the thrill of getting tied up, stripped down, and threatened.

And I respect that.

Jojo is apparently directing

I wanna have beef with Jojo after Only Friends, then I look at his resume and remember this is the man who gave me puppy play in The Warp Effect, poly in 3 Will Be Free, and a chaotic stripper named Judo in Dirty Laundry PLUS the YinWar trailer for their Partner in Crime concert which has now lead to YinWar doing Jack & Joker, so as a vegetarian, I'm gonna be like Elsa and let that go.

Which means Rath is probably the cinematographer

I don't give men compliments easily, so when I state that Cinematographer Rath has never disappointed me, I mean it. The man knows what he is doing, and if he is in on this series, I know if anything, it will be visually stunning.

First and Khao being the Beyonce of GMMTV

I'm in Jaidee's corner always, but I have eyes and First and Khao could really do whatever they want and I'd eat it up. I have believed them with whomever they have been partnered with in the past, and if they want to play high schoolers in an oppressed school system or a banker willing to see his ex and his ex's new man just to flirt with the boy from the market, I'm buying the tickets, I'm sitting in the front row, and I'm holding up homemade posters. Basically, I'm shutting the fuck up and experiencing whatever they want me to experience.

First and Khao tears

This is its own category because when they cry, they are in a league of their own. They claimed this series was going to be lighter than their previous work, but what is a First or Khao series without tears? I hope they are drinking water right now because someone is crying in this series, and JD's faces are already wet for other reasons.

DUNK'S BODY!

Not to objectify the man's body, but . . . it's a banger, and he has been done dirty by wardrobe for two solid years. His face card never declines. His arms are solid. His waist is snatched. His hair is perfect. Even Tay, New, and Jan were talking about him in the BTS for Peaceful Property because they were saying how New's character was based off of Dunk - pretty, fashionable, and COCKY! But wouldn't we all be that cocky if we were walking around looking like this?! Like shut up fives. A ten is speaking!

It's high time that man got to stunt like Force always does just taking off his shirt for no reason. Good for him. And good for us.

Oh, yeah, and the plot

Sorry, I mean the plot.

SHIT, THE PLOT!

You know what? Nah. I honestly do not give a fuck about the plot. Joong and Khao are hired killers. First is out to get them. Dunk gets involved (although, I think he knows a lot more than he leads on), and . . .

All will end well.

Because if anything, Jojo ain't never been allergic to a happy ending *wink*

So just know this show hit its target audience

ME!

¡Salud!

[xomakara]

Welcome Home

(re-posting from my old account seulrinnie-rinrin/xomakara-secondary)

SUMMARY | In which you jump Seonghwa’s bones after he comes home from tour.

PAIRING | Seonghwa x Reader

GENRE/CONTENT/WARNINGS | Idol!Seonghwa, non-idol!Reader, smut with no plot, literally just pure unadulterated filthy smut, consensual sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up y'all), fingering, dirty talk, pet names (angel, baby), praise kink, kitchen counter sex, filthy sex, oral sex

RATING | Mature, Explicit, 18+, NSFW, MDNI

LENGTH | 3,281 words

TAGLIST |  @noir-aria

NETWORKS |  @cromernet (reuploaded so only tagging nets that haven't reblogged it yet)

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Literally wrote this in like 4 hours because my friend wanted me to. just pure, filthy pwp doesn't take me that long to write lolol. Apologies if it sounds rushed or whatnot lol. My friend sent me this video and I was inspired lololol. And now I shall drown myself in holy water.

Seonghwa was not ready for the attack you launched at him when he strode into the apartment after a few months of touring, but he was never one to turn you down. You'd jumped him in the entryway, lips finding his and legs around his waist before he could even get his jacket off.

He had his hands under your ass, keeping you from falling, and when he tried to pull away, you bit his lip, earning a deep groan. You smirked at him, and he walked forward, pressing your back into the wall and kissing you deeply. Your fingers slid into his hair and you tugged him closer, your body grinding against his.

You moaned softly, and he pulled away, "I missed you, baby." He murmured, kissing your jaw. “But why the sudden attack?" He asked.

You pouted, "You're supposed to be happy." You said, and he laughed.

"Baby, I am happy. I'm very, very happy. But this is unexpected. Not that I'm complaining." He said, squeezing your ass and kissing you again. "It's just, I expected a nice greeting, a kiss, a hug, maybe something to eat, and a shower."

"But-"

"But nothing." He said, "I'm not upset. I just wanted to know what had you so needy. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

You looked at him, biting your lip, "I don’t like watching my boyfriend half naked and gyrating his hips through a screen. I know it’s your job but just the thought of other girls seeing your naked chest or your sexy, smoldering looks...I don't like it. I don’t share, Seonghwa.”

"Awww baby." He smiled, kissing you, "How many times do I have to tell you I only have eyes for you? You're the only one I want to see, the only one I want to be with. It's always been you and only you. So, no worries."

"Mmm, still." You hummed, nuzzling into his neck, your feet landing back on the ground.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" He asked, hands on your hips.

“Nope."

"Fine. I'm sorry for being a sexy, gyrating, half-naked idol on stage and making you all hot and bothered. There. Will you forgive me now?" He said, leaning in close and wrapping his arms around your waist.

"No." You said, and he raised his brows, surprised.

"You're mad." He said.

"Yes."

"Because I'm a sexy gyrating half-naked idol onstage that makes you all hot and bothered."

"Yes."

"So, what's the solution here? I'm sorry. I'll wear a shirt next time. Or I'll do some hip thrusts and then I can take my shirt off and I can do the thrusting thing.

"I'm not mad at you for doing your job. I'm mad that you're sexy and I don't like the thought of other people seeing you like that. I don't want anyone else to have that view."

"So, you want to claim me. Mark me. Make me yours." He said, and you nodded. "You want to tie me down and mark every inch of my body with your lips."

"Yes. I do."

"Hmm. What are we going to do about that?" He said, smirking.

You pushed him back until he hit the wall, dropping to your knees in front of him, your fingers making quick work of his belt and zipper. You tugged his pants and boxers down, and his cock sprang out. He was already hard and throbbing.

“Fuck…” Seonghwa let out a moan as your lips wrapped around his cock. Your mouth is warm and wet, and it feels so good to Seonghwa that he just has to let out a loud moan. You start sucking him, going all the way to the base before slowly going back up, tongue swirling on the tip and then licking down the vein on the underside.

You repeat this a few more times, and every time Seonghwa lets out a string of profanities, saying how good it feels and how you are the only one who can do it. His fingers run through your hair and grips them, but he doesn't force your head down, letting you work your magic at your own pace.

And you love the noises he makes, moans and grunts coming out from his plump lips. He's the prettiest like this, you thought, pants down, lips parted, eyes closed and head thrown back, exposing the column of his neck. He looks ethereal, a sight to behold, and he's yours, only yours.

You start moving faster, bobbing your head and swallowing around his cock. You feel his hips twitch and thrust up, pushing his dick even deeper inside your mouth, and you moan, the vibrations making him groan loudly.

"Fuck, angel. You’re doing so well, taking my cock so good. Such a good girl." He praises you, making you look up. Seonghwa is staring at you, mouth parted and eyes half-lidded, looking so fucking hot that you felt yourself get wetter.

You continue sucking him, hollowing your cheeks as you pull out and lapping at the head when you come back down. Your tongue swirls around the tip and then you suck him again. Seonghwa's hands are in your hair, not moving, just keeping you in place.

You pull away, lips red and swollen, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to the tip of his dick.

"Seonghwa," you say, voice hoarse and rough. "You love it when I suck your cock?"

"God, yes, baby. It feels so good." He groans as you go back down on him, bobbing your head up and down quickly.

"You like seeing my lips wrapped around your cock? Do you think I look pretty?" You ask him, and Seonghwa nods frantically, telling you how good you look, and how pretty your mouth looks while you suck him.

"Yeah? Am I pretty for you, Hwa?"

"Yes, so fucking pretty." Seonghwa moans out. "God, so pretty, all mine."

You continue sucking him, taking him down until you almost gagged. His hips buck up, and you moan.

"I want to cum, baby. Make me cum." He says.

You keep going, moving up and down his shaft, tongue pressing at the sensitive spot on the underside. Seonghwa is a moaning mess, saying your name like a prayer, and it turns you on even more, and you are sure that your panties are ruined by now.

He pulls your head back and tells you to open your mouth.

"Stick your tongue out, angel." He says, and you obey. You open your mouth wide and stick your tongue out, and Seonghwa holds his cock and starts pumping it quickly, eyes fixed on your tongue.

"Fuck, such a pretty sight." He murmurs, and he cums, his release landing on your tongue and face. You moan at the feeling of his warm cum on your skin. Seonghwa continues to pump his cock, and some of his release lands on your cheeks, lips, and chin.

When he's done, he pulls you up and kisses you hungrily. He can taste himself on your lips, and it turns him on.

"You're so dirty, angel." He whispers, licking his own cum off your lips. "Such a dirty girl, letting me cum on your pretty little face."

"You made me like this, Hwa." You reply. "And now, you have to take care of me."

"I will." He says, pulling you in for another kiss. He pulls away, his lips moving to your neck, and you throw your head back, giving him better access. He sucks on the spot just below your ear, and you gasp, fingers curling in his hair.

He continues sucking and biting, leaving hickeys and bruises on your neck and shoulders. You moan, loving the feeling of his lips on your skin, and you feel him smirk against your shoulder.

"You like this, baby?" He asks, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down your spine.

"Yes," You breathe out. "I love it."

Seonghwa pulls away and starts taking his clothes off, and you follow suit, shedding your own clothing and tossing them on the floor. When you are both naked, Seonghwa pulls you close, and you can feel his erection pressed against your stomach. You grind against him, and he lets out a low growl.

"Someone's impatient." He teases.

"Can you blame me? It's been too long." You say.

"I know, baby, I know. But don't worry, I'll take care of you."

"Then hurry up." You whine. “I don’t care where we fuck.”

"So bossy." He says and he picks you up and carries you to the kitchen, setting you down on the island. He presses his lips to yours, kissing you deeply and roughly, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. His cock rubs against your pussy, and you let out a moan, breaking the kiss.

Seonghwa's lips move to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses down to your breasts. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth and sucks on it, and you let out a gasp. His tongue swirls around the bud and he nibbles it, then he moves to the other nipple and gives it the same treatment.

Your hands are in his hair, pulling him closer and holding him in place. He sucks and bites, leaving hickeys and marks on your chest. When he's done, he moves lower, kissing and biting your skin, marking you as his. You feel his hands at the juncture between your thighs, fingers brushing against your dripping cunt.

"Seonghwa.." You moan his name.

"You're so wet." He says as he unlatched from your nipple and trails down kisses on your neck, biting and sucking on the skin.

"It's your fault. You made me this wet." You whine as he rubs your clit.

"Really? And how did I do that?" He asks, teasing. He's still rubbing your clit, and the friction is driving you crazy.

"Fuck, Seonghwa."

"Answer me, angel." He says, plunging two fingers inside of you. You throw your head back and moan, feeling Seonghwa's long, slender fingers curl up inside of you.

"Oh, fuck!" You moan.

"C'mon, answer me. How did I make you this wet?" He says, thrusting his fingers into you, and you swear that you could feel his fingertips brush against your g-spot.

"You and your filthy mouth." You managed to say, and he chuckles, fingers continuing to move in and out of you.

"Do you like my filthy mouth, angel? I like using it to make you feel good. Like this." He says, pulling his fingers out of you, and before you could complain, he has already replaced it with his mouth.

"Shit." You let out a breathy moan, and your hand finds its way to his hair, tugging on it as his tongue moves against you.

He licks and sucks on your clit, occasionally dipping his tongue inside you.

"You taste so good, baby." He murmurs, lips pressed against your sensitive skin. "So fucking delicious."

"Shit, shit." You curse, hips rolling to meet his tongue.

He continues to eat you out, tongue and lips working together to make you feel good. His tongue is hot and wet, and it feels so damn good. He moans against your pussy, and you swear you could feel the vibrations up to your spine. He laps at your clit, tongue circling the bundle of nerves. You're a moaning mess, curses spilling from your mouth as you grip his hair. You look down, and you see him staring at you.

His eyes are dark, filled with lust, and they are burning with passion and desire. He's looking at you, watching your face contort in pleasure, and it's all because of him. He loves it when you lose control and submit to him, letting him make you feel good.

"Shit, Seonghwa." You moan, and he pulls away, kissing his way up to your neck and jaw, his lips pressing against your skin.

"God, you're so hot." He murmurs into your skin.

You whimper, wanting his mouth on your clit again.

"Hwa, please." You whine.

"Please, what?" He says, teasing.

"Fuck, I'm so close." You say, and he smiles, his hands gripping your thighs as he leans down, lips latching onto your clit again.

You roll your hips, grinding against his face, chasing the release that is so close, but so far.

"Hwa, please." You beg, and he obliges, tongue flicking against your clit faster. You moan, and soon enough, you are screaming his name, his tongue pushing you over the edge.

"Fuck!" You cry out, hips bucking against his face as your orgasm washes over you, making your vision white and your body shake.

"That's it, angel." He whispers, and he doesn't stop, his tongue and lips working you through your orgasm, prolonging it, and making it feel even better. When you are done, he pulls away and licks his lips, tasting the last bit of your orgasm.

"Fucking delicious." He murmurs and pulls you into a heated kiss, tongues clashing and teeth clacking, but neither of you care, too lost in each other to even notice.

He pulls away, and he presses his forehead against yours, his eyes locking with yours.

"Fuck, I need to be inside you." He groans, and you nod, not trusting your voice.

He lines himself up with your entrance and slowly pushes inside of you, inch by inch, letting you adjust to his size. He groans, and you can feel him throb inside you.

"You feel so good, baby." He moans, and he starts moving, his hips rocking against yours, his cock sliding in and out of you.

"God, Seonghwa." You moan, his name a mantra falling from your lips. He's hitting all the right spots, his cock filling you up and stretching you out in all the right ways.

"You're so tight, baby. So fucking tight." He moans, his thrusts picking up speed. “God, I fucking missed you. Missed this. Missed us.”

"Hwa, fuck." You cry out, his cock hitting all the right places.

"Yes, baby, yes." He says, his breath coming out in short pants. "Say my name, angel. Let me hear you scream it."

"Seonghwa." You moan, and he thrusts into you even harder, his cock hitting your sweet spot and making you see stars.

"You're so fucking sexy." He moans, his voice sending shivers down your spine and straight to your core.

You moan his name, his fingers digging into your hips, his grip almost painful, but you love it. You love the pain and the pleasure that he's giving you, the way he's fucking you, and the way his cock is making you feel.

"Fuck, Hwa." You moan, his hips snapping against yours.

"Say it again." He growls, his lips ghosting over your ear, his breath hot and heavy.

"Seonghwa." You moan, his name sounding like a prayer. "God, I fucking love you."

"I love you, too." He groans, his voice rough and hoarse, and it makes your knees weak.

You wrap your legs around his waist, bringing him closer, and he moans, his lips pressing against yours in a heated kiss. His lips move against yours, and you feel his tongue slip into your mouth.

He groans into the kiss, and his fingers are gripping your hips, holding you in place as he thrusts into you. His cock is hitting all the right spots, and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

"Hwa." You moan his name, and he smiles against your lips, his hips moving faster, his cock sliding in and out of you easily.

"I'm gonna cum, baby." He whispers, his voice rough and breathless.

"Me, too." You reply, your nails digging into his back.

He keeps going, his cock hitting your sweet spot with every thrust. Your legs are shaking, and your vision is starting to get blurry. You feel the familiar heat pooling in your lower belly, and you know that you're close.

"Seonghwa, fuck." You moan, and he groans, his thrusts getting faster and harder.

"Yes, angel, yes. Cum for me." He whispers, his voice a low rumble. "Cream all over my cock."

"Fuck, Hwa." You moan, and you can feel your orgasm approaching.

"That's it, baby." He grunts. "Cum for me."

"Shit, I'm gonna-"You reach your orgasm, and you cry out his name, your pussy clenching around his cock.

"That's it, baby." He moans, and he cums soon after, his cock twitching inside of you as his release coats your walls.

You both stay like that for a few minutes, his cock still buried deep inside of you, the only sound in the room is the sounds of your heavy breathing.

“Baby, I know we both came but I really want to continue fucking you. You feel so good, and I don't want to let you go." He murmurs, pressing a soft kiss on your neck.

“I need more of you, Hwa.”

He stands up and picks you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck. He carries you to the bedroom, his hands cupping your ass and holding you in place.

He carries you to the bed, and he lays you down, his body hovering over yours. He looks at you, his eyes dark with lust, and you can't help but moan.

"I should go on tour more often...if this is what happens when I get back." He smirks, and he leans down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

"And leave me alone again? Fuck no." You say, pulling him closer and kissing him hungrily. "Don't need you going around being half-naked again."

"I was clothed." He chuckles.

"And everyone was still eye-fucking you."

"Well, it was worth it." He smirks.

"Oh, was it now?"

He chuckles, his lips moving to your neck, nipping and sucking at the skin.

"Fuck, baby, you're so needy." He growls, and his hands are on your body, roaming your skin, touching and caressing.

"You made me like this, Seonghwa." You reply, your voice breathless and shaky. "I missed you so much."

"I know, baby, I know. I missed you too." He whispers and kisses you, his lips pressing against yours in a heated kiss.

You kiss him back, your fingers curling in his hair and tugging. He moans into the kiss, his lips moving against yours, and his tongue slips into your mouth, exploring and tasting.

Your hands are on his chest, your nails digging into his skin, leaving marks and scratches. He groans, his hips rocking against yours, and his erection pressed against your thigh.

"God, baby, I missed you so much." He says, breaking the kiss, and he sits up, pulling you with him, and his lips move to your neck, sucking and biting the skin. "Missed your pretty little lips, your pretty tits, your pretty pussy."

You moan, his words sending shivers down your spine. You pull him closer, his lips finding yours again, and he kisses you, his tongue slipping into your mouth and exploring.

You grind against him, his erection pressing against your soaked pussy, and you can feel him throb and twitch. You moan, and he pulls away, his lips trailing down to your breasts, kissing and licking and biting the skin.

"Such a good girl, waiting for me to come home." He whispers, his lips pressing against the swell of your breast. "My beautiful, perfect girl. I love you so much."

"God, Hwa, I love you too." You moan, your fingers running through his hair. "Welcome back home."

"It's good to be home, baby." He says, sliding into you once more. "It's good to be home."

[bitemybutt]

Desperate

Law x Reader NSFW!

Y'all, I wrote this at work, in between work, and in bed all on my phone so it is NOT proofread. But I just had to get this out of my head. Also this is pure smut, so no plot really. Hope yall enjoy!! Let me know what you think! MDNI!

WARNINGS: Female reader, dominate Law, female and male receiving oral, mentions of masterbation, saliva, vaginal penatration, fingering, light choking, hand necklace, aftercare, cuddling, SMUT, PURE FILTHY SMUT

Law had been desperate for a few things in his life, but a woman in any sort of romantic capacity was not one of them.

He may have enjoyed the touch of a woman every now and then...but he was never desperate for it.

That was, until you came along.

He wasn't sure when his need for you began, but it was slow, building over the two years you had been with the crew. He tried dismissing it, but soon his quick glances turned into lingering gazes, and innocent thoughts became blurred with visions of you bare before him.

Law knew that if he got his hands on you now, he would ruin you, and he would enjoy every last minute of it.

And that's where he found himself tonight: sat at his desk mind wandering to you. His paperwork was nearly finished and yet he couldn't focus anymore. You were always there, in the front of his mind. Law closed his eyes and leaned his head back against his chair. Your image was burned into his eyelids. And the thoughts came rushing in. He imagined what your nails would feel like digging into his skin, and what you would look like with disheveled hair and blown pupils, tears staining those pretty little cheeks as you beg to be fucked again.

Goddammit, he was losing his mind.

He wanted you...needed you, and yet he hadn't made any indication of such for fear of scaring you away.

He needed release and he found himself reaching for the button of his suddenly tight jeans. It would have to do, and had for some time now. Law nearly had himself free when a knock came at his door.

He gritted his teeth and redid the button and zipper. Who was coming to his door at this hour? He made his way to the door and opened it.

"What is it?" he grumbled before looking down. And then his eyes met yours. His breath nearly hitched at the sight before him. There you stood, hair tumbling around your face and cheeks tinged pink from embarrassment.

His eyes trailed down and saw that you were only wearing an oversized t-shirt, accentuating your plush thighs.

"Captain, I'm really sorry to bother you. I know it's late but I...I can't sleep. I've tried everything but my mind won't quiet. Do you have any medicine I could take? Or a tea? Anything really so long as I can sleep."

Law considered for a moment and opened the door more. He certainly could think of some ways to help you sleep...

"Come in," he gestured into the room.

As you slipped inside Law made his way to a bookshelf in the corner of his room where he kept specific medicines for sleep.

"Is this a normal occurance, y/n-ya?"

You didn't want to admit it, but it had been and you knew exactly what...or rather who the problem was. He was standing in the room with you.

"Yes. But tonight has been unbearable. I--" you stopped for a moment to consider your next words, "I feel like I'm losing it, Law..."

He stopped at the sound of his name spilling from your lips. You never called him that and he was in part glad for it, because he knew it would only add fuel to his burning desire for you. How many times had he imagined what his name would sound like as you cried it out?

When he turned around he saw you leaning against his closed door, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. When had the door shut? The room suddenly felt too small. Too hot. Focus Law, he told himself as he made his way back to you with two pills in hand. He held his hand out and dropped them into you open palm.

"Take these with a glass of water and you should fall asleep within thirty minutes." He tried sounding professional to cover for the fact that his heart was beginning to beat wildly in his chest.

You should have said "thank you" and left, but instead the words spilled out of your mouth before you could stop them, "Law...do you...have you ever had thoughts about someone that has...kept you up at night?" Your cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink and in that moment he knew exactly what you meant.

"What exactly is this about, y/n?" He played dumb but found himself stepping closer to you.

You looked up at him, forcing yourself to face the man that had been causing you so many sleepless nights. So many nights of feeling the warm slickness pool between your thighs. But then you lost your courage only to mumble, "it's stupid, nevermind."

But Law wasn't having it. He was moving closer still and you could feel your cheeks begin to burn hotter. "Law...?"

"Who's been keeping you so bothered?" his voice came out low and husky. He had tunnel vision. You were all he could see now and he was losing himself to you.

He placed a tattooed hand on the door beside your head and gazed down into those big doe eyes.

Your breath caught and you could feel heat beginning to build in your lower stomach. He was so close. So close now that if you leaned in you could kiss him. But instead, he moved in so that his lips were by your ear. "Who?" he whispered, and you inhaled sharply at the sensation that rolled through your body, the pills in your hand falling to the floor.

"You..." you choked out and now your whole body felt flush with embarrassment. But it was short lived because Law's lips were now on yours and his body moved to press you fully against the door.

He had finally snapped the moment it left your lips and without truly thinking, for once in his life, he acted on instinct. His lips moved against yours, soft but hungry and when he felt you reciprocate he ran his tongue along your bottom lip so that you would part for him. His tongue dancing with yours sent a heat through your core and your knees felt weak. The hand that had been on the door moved to cup your face and his other hand moved to your waist feeling the curve of your hip. His hand made its way down to the hem of your shirt where he then slipped under and gripped at your bare skin.

You were melting in his hands and you could feel your head begin to swim, your arousal apparent by the wetness you felt growing between your legs. You pulled away and looked up at him seeing nothing but hunger in his eyes. Oh, he would be your undoing. You would give him anything he asked of you. It took him no time to press his lips against the sensitive part of your neck and he trailed his tongue up to your ear.

"The things I want to do to you, y/n-ya."

A small moan escaped your lips and the heavenly sound was met with a low growl.

Your legs felt like jello. You were sure you soaked through your panties at this point.

"Then do them..." you were breathless as you looked up at him through half-lidded eyes. And then you were being picked up, your legs wrapping around his waist so naturally as if you had done this a million times. He moved you to his bed and laid you down, your shirt riding up exposing your stomach.

"Are you sure about that?" he asked as he hovered just above you. His hand was on your stomach and sliding further up until he reached your breast. His fingers moved to your stiff nipple where he gently pinched at it.

"Y-yes, Law..." you moaned softly.

He was so hard he could barely stand it. His cock was going to look so good shoved in that pretty mouth.

He moved to slide your shirt over your head and when he looked down at your bare chest he felt his cock twitch. Perfect peaks met him and he moved to grasp them, but then he felt your hands grasping at the buttons on his shirt. He let you work through them and when you got it off, you slid your hands over his tattooed chest.

You admired how beautiful his tattoos were and traced them for a moment. But then he grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head. His head dipped down to one of your breasts and he took your nipple in his mouth, sucking and rolling his tongue over it. You arched your back and a louder moan escaped your lips.

Law was starting to come undone with each moan that met his ears. He needed more. He needed to see that perfect pussy. He leaned back, releasing your hands and wasted no time in finding the elastic of your panties. He ran his finger teasingly along the band and watched you squirm.

"Tell me what you thought about when you touched yourself at night, y/n-ya"

Again your cheeks warmed and you looked to the side. Had he really known you played with yourself almost every night or was it a lucky guess?

"You, Law..."

His free hand grabbed your chin gently making you look at him.

"What exactly about me?" He wanted to hear the dirty details about your need for him. He pulled your panties down a little, trailing a finger further inside.

You supposed now was not the time to be shy, though it took you a few seconds to get it out.

"...Your hands...roaming my body, touching every inch of me. I-I thought about you slipping those pretty tattooed fingers inside of me." You felt your panties begin to slide down your thighs.

"And? I know there's more." Law was going to draw this out for as long as he could. His fantasies were coming to life before him.

"And your cock...filling me up. Pounding into me until I cant take anymore." The words coming from your mouth was pure exstasy to him. Your panties were now off and Law admired you for a moment before running a finger just above your folds.

"And do you think you deserve it?" he teased you as you moved your hips hoping his finger would slide further down. You were dripping onto his bedsheets.

One breathy "yes" from you and he ran two fingers along your slit and then inserted them into your warm and waiting cunt.

"Ah!" your eyes snapped shut and you arched into him. Was this really happening? You laying beneath Law, his fingers deep inside of you? He started slow, methodically pumping his fingers in and out but then he picked up speed and you let out a small gasp. Goddamn you were beautiful.

You grasped at the bedsheets and you tilted your head back when you felt him hit your sweet spot.

"L-law! Just like that" you cried out as he continued to hit it. If he kept going you were going to explode and cum all over his hand. Almost there.

But just before you could climax he abruptly pulled out his fingers and smirked. You collapsed and whined, your body shivering from the crash.

"Oh no, not yet," he purred as he put his soaked fingers up to your mouth. You opened obediently and he shoved them in, slickness met with saliva. Your lips closed around his fingers and you suckled at your own juices.

"Good girl," he crooned as he shoved them just a but further into your mouth causing you to drool. You made small whimpering noises and he pulled his fingers out. "Show me how you played with yourself," his mouth upturned into a wicked smile.

"Just like this..." your fingers moved to touch your clit, rubbing small circles and you let out a small moan as your other hand played with your nipples. He watched intently as he moved off of you and began working on getting his jeans off. He pulled them off with his briefs in one motion and your breath caught at the sight of his cock springing free.

Your mouth watered, and you stopped touching yourself to sit up. You needed him in your mouth now. You reached a hand out to grab it and ran it along the length of him admiring the softness of it. He let out a hiss at the touch and grabbed your chin and pulled your face forward. The tip of his cock coaxed your lips open and then your mouth. You flicked your tongue out and licked at the precum pooling at the tip and then put him in slowly, meeting his eyes.

Law stared into those big beautiful eyes full of lust and then in one motion shoved himself into your mouth. The size of him made you choke and he let out a moan at the sound. His moaning was music to you and encouraged you to begin bobbing and sucking at him. Your head moved slowly at first but the more you sucked the faster you got wanting to mouth fuck him until he came down your throat.

Law tilted his head back moving his hand from your chin and grabbing the hair at the back of your head. He pulled on it using it as leverage to shove himself into you.

"Greedy little thing, aren't you?" he teased, your chin glistening with drool. You answered by sucking harder, and he groaned. If you kept this up he was going to cum. You grew more fervent as he pulled your head back and pushed you back onto him. Your little noises were sending him to the edge.

"Mmm, you want me to cum in that naughty little mouth of yours?" his voice came out slightly shaky and you could tell he was going to bust.

"Mhmm," you nodded, your sucking becoming sloppy. He was covered in your spit the sight of which made you even wetter.

But then he pulled out of your mouth and let out a heavy sigh. Oh he was playing with you. You groaned and grabbed at him again, but he pushed you back onto your back his fingers back in your pussy, pumping hard and fast. You grabbed at his arms, your nails digging in. You were already close just from sucking him off, so it didn't take much to build to your climax.

You felt yourself peaking as your hips moves erratically against his hand.

"That's it, y/n-ya, cum for me" he whispered, hooking the tips of his fingers inside you and wiggling them back and forth. It was your undoing as your walls constricted and you cried out.

"Ahhh, Law! Yes, ah yes!"

The aftershock went through your entire body but he wasn't pulling out. Instead, he began wiggling his fingers again and dipped his head down, his tongue meeting your clit.

"Oh I'm not done with you," he said in between licks. Your legs began to shake and you grasped at his hair as he built you back up. Your clit was so sensitive now that each lick and suckle made you jolt and coupled with his fingers you felt yourself peaking again.

"Oh fuck!" You were almost there.

One more suckle against your clit and you were crashing around him again. Your fingers grasped his hair harder as you rode out your climax.

"That's my good girl," he said against your soaked cunt. When he pulled his fingers out he ran his tongue in between his fingers, cleaning up the grool and cum that covered them. The very sight was erotic to you.

Law still wasn't done with you though. He was going to stuff you to brim with his swollen cock. He wanted to feel your overstimulated pussy clenching around him.

He positioned himself at your entrance, his tip just brushing your clit which made you cry out. It was so sensitive now that it almost hurt.

"Fuck me, Law" you begged him, your body thrumming with the high of your climaxes. You weren't sure if you could make it through another one, but you were going to. You needed him inside of you.

"Begging for my cock?" he ran a finger down your cheek and smirked. His tip was poking at your entrance.

"Please...please fuck me," you begged again, spreading your legs wider for him.

"Since you've been so good, I'll let you have it." And then he pushed into you, going all the way to the hilt.

"Fuck Law!"

He was in pure bliss finally feeling your walls squeezing around him. He thought he never would. And you crying out his name only made him thrust harder.

You were so overwhelmed with stimulation that you could feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes but you didn't want him to stop. You were almost in a trance.

Law had his one hand on your hip, his other hand made its way to your throat. He wrapped his fingers around your throat applying light pressure. You didn't even realize how good it would feel but you enjoyed every second of it as he pounded you.

Law looked into your eyes, and there it was. Just as he had imagined: lust-blown eyes, with tears beginning to streak your cheeks. It was better than he imagined actually. You completely fucked out and spent.

The sight was going to make him cum. He wanted to fill you with his seed. He began pumping faster and his moans mingled with yours. You were going to cum again.

"Fuck, look how pretty you look with my cock buried in your pussy." His thrusts were hungry now, filled with need.

"Law...fuck Law, yes...yes" you could only whisper because you were so spent.

The hand Law had on your throat squeezed just a bit tighter as he reached the edge of his climax. "Fuck," he groaned, he was there. One more thrust and his head fell back.

"Fuck, y/n-ya!" At the same time, waves of pleasure hit you and your pussy spasmed around his cock. His orgasm was strong sending pulses to his cock and warm spurts of cum filled you up. When he pulled out he watched as his seed dripped out of you. What a sight.

The hand that had been on your throat moved to cup your cheek and you nuzzled into it. "Law..." you breathed. You reached up, covering his hand with your own.

"That was amazing," you rubbed his hand.

"You were perfect," he smiled and you thought you would do anything to see that smile more often.

He rolled off of you and went to the bathroom. When he returned he handed you a damp washcloth. You gave him a small smile and cleaned yourself up. When you were done, he took it from you and then crawled in the bed beside you. He laid his arm out, a request for you to move into closer. You snuggled into him, laying your head on his warm chest.

You felt the sleepiness begin the set in. And your eyes began to flutter closed. "Thank you," you managed to get out.

"For what?" he asked as he rubbed small circles across your shoulder.

"For helping me sleep."

He chuckled and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"The pleasure was all mine."

But you didn't hear him because sleep had taken you, so he snuggled into you and let sleep claim him too.

[highhhfiveee]

mint

pairing: mike schmidt x blackfem!reader summary: you’re abby’s mint chocolate-loving babysitter. mike takes notice. wc: 1.3k tags: suggestiveness, swearing, fluff. *minor movie spoiler that isn’t a spoiler fr but kind of is* a/n: oi. this is my first official piece of fanfic on tumblr and i'm excited but also super nervous. i never knew what characters i wanted to write for as most of my fandoms are obsolete tbh (teen wolf and maze runner, i'm looking at you 💔) but after watching the fnaf movie and falling in love with j hutch like i'm 14 again, i wanted to try to write for mike!  i'm sorry if this story sucks tbh. i wrote it pretty quickly, did not edit it in any way (watch for grammar and spelling errors!) and i'm still trying to establish characters and plot and do all this silly billy worldbuilding, but i'll get better! i'm also taking requests for both fluff and smut, so if y'all would like to send anything for me to write, i'll def accept! like i said in my last post, i think i'm gonna redo my tumblr layout so i can feel like a true fanfic/misc blog lmao so ignore its under construction phase ((: i hope y'all enjoy this though bc i've been thinking ab mike schmidt all night 

i have sooo many ideas, but between last night and this morning, i’ve been thinking of abby’s babysitter!reader (bc fuck max). 

you’ve been channel surfing in the living room since you put abby down, working with her to lock down a nightly routine. ideally, she’d bathe, eat dinner (god willingly), brush her teeth, and then you’d be able to get her to lay in bed and doze off. some nights, this required dessert. 

“you just brushed your teeth though. it’s gonna taste gross.”

“not if it’s one of those mint chocolate things you always have.” you straighten up, eyes squinted at the child before you; she meant the small, sometimes melted, squares of Andes mint chocolate you always kept. they’d always been your favorite, a guilty pleasure in this fucked up world. 

you hadn’t been babysitting abby for long, and you didn’t realize that she'd been watching you crush the chocolates like it was light work. they were easy to eat, and once you had one, you found out how easy it was to eat another one, and then another one, and then another one until there was a mountain of crinkled foil next to your phone and chocolate smeared on your face. 

"please, y/n. just one," you didn't exactly know if it was a lie. abby was convincing, able to break you down with her eyes, pleading and puppy-dog like. "please." 

you cave, leaning down to brush her hair back from her forehead and place a gentle kiss on the skin. with pursed lips, you whisper, "fine, but tomorrow night. i have to get some more." 

abby does nothing but smile, eyes fluttering closed. you stay with her for a bit like you always do--watching the way her chest rises and falls, and how her features twitched with slumber. features scarily similar to mike's. 

of course she'd look like mike. they were siblings, no shit, but the resemblance occupied your brain. there was sweet abby, with her colorful clothes and scribbled drawings and persuasive aura, and then there was mike. 

you shake your head, giving abby another kiss before exiting her room. you didn't need to think about mike. he wasn't what you were here for. you'd come to abby's school as an aide and after she'd privately confided in you about her home life, you knew you had to help her. you would do anything for her, even if that meant taking care of her while suppressing the overwhelming school girl crush you had on her older brother.

mike was a bit older than you, which didn't scare you at all. guys in their early 20s were rarely mature, doing anything they could just to fuck; but guys in their late 20s, mike specifically, had only ever shown you couth, surprisingly. 

for nearly two months, five mornings a week, the sound of the door being unlocked would ring out. you'd turn to see sunshine pouring into the living room, enveloping mike's brooding figure in a radiant golden glow.

he'd hang his coat on the wall hooks, drop his bag down to his feet, and give you a small but warm smile. you'd try to not to embarrass yourself as you two made small talk, packing up your things.

you always left unscathed, but recently it'd been hard. you were always thinking about him, dreaming about him even; how his hair would feel between your fingers, how his hands would feel on your face, how his face would feel between your thighs. 

the thought is washed away, drowned out by the sound effects of a loud infomercial when the door opens, and you're turning and squinting against the wash of pale yellow on your face. mike steps forward with a, "hey, y/n" and you meekly raise your hand to wave. 

he hangs his hoodie up to reveal his shoulder blades flexing under an uncharacteristically tight navy blue sweater. you can't help but stare.

"just wake up?" his voice is raspy, but he's still facing the wall, rummaging in his bag for something. 

"um...yeah. brain's still turning on," you lie, tossing the thick blue blanket off your body. you didn't sleep at all, kept up with your thoughts and the last of your Andes mints (though you loved her, you couldn't give abby your last ones).

"hm," he mutters, finally turning to you but keeping his hands behind his back. something crinkles in them and you raise your eyebrow at the tired yet amused expression he takes with you. it's enough to make your body hot and you awkwardly pull at the collar of your shirt, fanning yourself off.

"hot?" the gravelly tone sends you into a giggling fit, shaking your head as you shoot to your feet. you have to leave before you do or say something you regret. 

"uh, yeah, it was s-super hot under that...um...blanket. i shouldn't have worn sweatpants to s-sleep," you stutter, nodding your head along with mike as he steps closer to you. this couldn't be the moment something happens, right? it'd been so casual between you too, very friendly, and he'd never shown any signs of trying to do anything with you before. why would he choose right now, so spontaneously? 

he stands before you, the slightest bit taller than you. you're able to see every pore, every freckle, every microscopic detail in his eyes and lips.

you open your mouth, hoping your heart doesn't fall out, to ask what's happening, when he reveals a bag of Andes mints, one bigger than you've ever seen.

your mouth stays open in surprise. "wh-"

"abby's been talking about them. i wondered where she found out about them but--" he nudges his head towards the coffee table, where a small mound of green wrappers lay. you swear under your breath, cursing yourself for not throwing them away like you usually do. 

"i'm sorry," you whisper, blushing beyond measure as you begin to frantically pack your things. "i should be more careful with that stuff."

"god, y/n, you're saying it like it's coke," mike chuckles. he sets the bag down on the couch and reaches out to you, placing his hand on yours as you shove things into your tote. "hey." 

his voice forces you to stop and look up. you melt under his stare just like you do with abby. the puppy-dog thing must run in the family.

"i feel bad about not being able to pay you yet, and i really appreciate all you're doing. abby told me that you loved those mints, so..."

"thank you, mike," you say over the sound of your pounding heart. you didn't care about the money, you didn't need it. being appreciated by someone who made your heartbeat resonate throughout your body was payment enough. "this is really sweet." 

"thank you, y/n. you don't know how much this means to me." You scoff, throwing your tote over your shoulder and looking down at your feet. 

"i'm always happy to help." you and mike stand facing each other for what feels like hours, the air as thick as molasses between you. his eyes were squinted, low and dark and intriguing.

you wished you could read his mind. what was he thinking? did his heart do the same thing as yours, wacking against his ribcage with no end in sight? did he stay up thinking about you when he was supposed to be sleeping, imagining how you felt, what you sounded like, how you tasted---

"see you later tonight?" his voice rocks you out of your trance. he's not thinking about you. he's tired, wondering when you'll leave so he can fall into his bed and doze off. 

"yeah. tell abby i said i'll see her tonight." your smile is tight as you exit the house, cursing at yourself as you get into your car. 

you didn't know how long you could go on like this. 

ya, i know this sucks and it isn't really anything but we're gonna work our way through these fics and blurbs to really develop a cute relationship (,: i will still be writing other fics for mike, and possibly using another babysitter!reader in a different universe, but as for now, we're gonna be rocking with these two (: (thinking that we’ll label her as 🌱🍫!reader)  all notes are appreciated (: thanks for reading!

[powerfultenderness]

Dear @powerfultenderness , but how about neighbor! König hearing "those" sounds and him hearing his name from y/n after that jelly encounter~. With that we can sleep peacefully( I am so invested in this series and your work, girl you slayyy hard! Love youuu!!).

Ahh, thank you so much!

You have struck a plot point I am saving for a different part of the story! So I wrote a little something else instead, I hope you still like it! Also, I was gonna sit on this for a bit, but since I have nothing else ready, and I kinda wanna keep y'all hooked, I'm posting it now. 😅

Not the most detailed smut I've written, but it is smut, so I'm bumping the rating to (Explicit 18+)

Direct continuation of [König's jealousy]

If anyone were to ask him what his greatest test of strength was, he had a definite answer. It had nothing to do with his time in the military, nor with KorTac. It was leaving you like that, desperate for him and moaning his name. Every part of him was telling him to go back to you, to finally partake in you. But you were still upset from running into your ex, and he didn’t want your first time together to be tainted by that. He wanted to make sure that you really wanted him, and not simply a distraction. 

König sighed, fresh from a very cold shower, as he dropped into the soft embrace of his bed. He wished it was your embrace instead. In the safety and privacy of his own home, he let out an appreciative hum as he remembered the feeling of your soft body against his. He could still hear your little pants and whimpers as he rocked his aching cock against your ass. 

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself and rolled over, nuzzling his face into his pillow. 

This line of thought would lead him nowhere. He knew that. That didn’t stop his mind from conjuring the feeling of holding you in his arms, your body fitting perfectly against his. He softly rolled his hips into the mattress, as if that could replicate the sensation of having you. Instead of your sweet little “Ah!”s, his ears only picked up his own heavy breathing and the gentle rock of his bed. Even when he breathed in, his mind supplied him with your intoxicating scent. 

-

Knock! Knock! Knock!

He jolted with a muttered curse, he had been enjoying floating in his thoughts of you and this was a rude interruption. He grumbled a bit as he grabbed one of his masks and tossed it on before answering the door.

“König!” 

Oh! His heart quickened and his stomach flipped. Not a rude interruption at all, especially when you were wearing that dress he bought. Maybe he should go back and buy one in every color. 

He cleared his throat and stepped aside to let you in, “everything ok?” 

You sighed and shook your head, “no! How can you ask that?” 

“What?” Shit. Did he forget something?

You quickly turned away from him to move towards the couch, your dress flaring out around you for a moment and drawing his eyes down to your thighs. You were pouting at him by the time he was able to drag his eyes back up. “I have to know what you said last night!” 

Oh. Shit. He was a little apprehensive of how you’d react once you had a moment to gather your thoughts. He supposed that was now. He sat down next to you, about to answer but you started first, showing him the translation on your phone. 

“I’m pretty sure I caught at least one word! “Not”! Are you mad at me?”

“What?” 

“About how I let Adrian ruin our day?” 

Did you say ‘day’ or ‘date’? No. Now wasn’t the time.

“No. No-” 

You dropped your hands into your lap and looked down, away from him. “I’m sorry. It’s just seeing him again made me realize…” 

“Realize what?” 

You were trembling just enough for him to notice and the way you started to bite at your lower lip was reminiscent of when you saw Adrian out with that other woman. And then you forced yourself to smile at him, “heh. You know what? Never mind. Forget it. Forget-” 

“Realize what?” 

You tried to look away from him again, but he gently caught your chin and made you look at him, still you averted your eyes as you whispered an answer. “If Adrian couldn’t love me…?” 

“I can.” He didn’t hesitate. 

You gasped and slapped your hands over your face and leaned into him, hiding your face into his chest. “Don’t say thaaat!”

He chuckled at how cute you were flustered like that, and gently put a hand on your back. “Why not?” 

“Isn’t it too early for us to be even thinking about love?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged, then nudged you so you looked up at him again. “But I don’t want you to think about him again.” 

You smiled, but still found a way to hide your face from him again, this time by sitting back and dropping your forehead onto his shoulder. “That’s easy to do with you around. Sometimes, you’re all I think about.” You muttered shyly into his arm. 

Oh he knew that feeling all too well. He pulled his arm from your grasp and wrapped it around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest one more. You adjusted to sit more comfortably and tucked your head just under his chin. 

He was happy, holding you in his arms like this, and his feelings even tumbled out of his mouth, in German.

You giggled, however. “You have to stop doing that!”

“Doing what?” 

“What did you say?” 

He hadn’t meant to say that out loud! “Nothing.”

You huffed and looked up at him. “Tell me.” 

“Fine. I said, “I want to taste you.” 

Your eyes went wide and you gasped, burying your face in his chest again. He would have laughed but you mumbled something. “That’s funny.” 

“Oh? Why is it funny?” 

“Because I,” your fingers were playing with the edge of his mask, “want you to touch me.” 

His stomach flipped again. He couldn’t. Did you just. “What?” 

For a second, as you removed his arm from around you, he thought you were going to walk away. That he scared you off. Instead you climbed onto his lap, your back pressed against his chest and your right leg hooked over his knee. Then you took his hand and slowly began to drag it up the inside of your thigh. “Touch me, König.” 

He didn’t need to be told a third time and even without your guiding hand, he looked over your shoulder to see his hand disappear under your skirt. You gasped quietly as he cupped you, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing slow, gentle, circles over your cotton panties. Only when you started to move your hips did he slip his hand inside your panties, thick fingers gliding across your clit. You whimpered, head falling back against his shoulder, as his fingers prod at your entrance, gathering slick only to slowly drag up to your clit. 

“Take these off,” he growled and pulled at your panties. “Or I’ll rip them off.” 

You let out a breathy laugh and helped him move the offending garment down, wiggling in his lap and driving him crazy. Cute printed cotton that he had no attention for (right now at least) fell to the floor by his feet as he hiked your dress completely over your waist, pulling the excess fabric back. His left arm was wound around your chest, just below your breasts, holding you in place while his right hand went back to your now fully exposed sex.

“I want to see this pretty little pussy take my fingers.” 

He continued to tease you, dragging his fingers in soft gentle circles around your clit down to your entrance, slowly sliding a finger in one knuckle at a time and rubbing the heel of his palm against your clit. Not even your whining moans could drown out the lewd sound of his fingers sliding in and out of your pussy. 

“König!” You squirmed in his lap, ass grinding against his hard cock, and tried to close your thighs. 

“No!” He growled, “none of that!” and dropped his left hand from your chest to your thigh and pulled your legs apart, all while still vigorously pumping his fingers in your throbbing cunt. 

“Ah! AH! Stop!” 

König froze, fingers still buried deep in you, and even stopped breathing. “Shit. Are you hurt?” 

You shook your head, muttering a small “no,” but still pushed his hand away from you, whimpering as his fingers slid out of your pussy. 

He remained still as a statue as you moved, unsure why you stopped and afraid that you didn’t want to tell him if he had hurt you. You moved until you were facing forwards just enough to reach for his mask. Already frozen with anxiety, he couldn’t move to stop you from lifting the edge of his mask up. You stopped, however, just below his nose, then slowly brought his right hand, covered in your cum, to his face. “Taste.” 

He whined, gasping short excited breaths, as he let you guide his hand to his mouth. His eyes closed, mouth already hanging open.

-

Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt! 

His eyes opened and he swallowed thickly, mouth dry from… “Fuck.” He muttered to himself as the memory of his dream came flooding back to him. 

He sighed and flipped over onto his back, swallowing once more to alleviate his dry mouth, and realized he was hard as a rock. Sleepily he dragged one hand down to his waist. You were going to be the death of him. His mind supplied him images of both memory and dream versions of you as he shucked his boxers down and wrapped a hand around his cock. What a death it would be though. 

[More Neighbor König]

Tagging: @warrior-of-justice

[httpknjoon]

(re)starting over again | kth; 12

plot | Your four-year relationship with Taehyung was going well and strong. Until he was involved in a car accident, resulting to him losing some memories. By some, it means everything that happened five years ago. Things he remember? His friends, his bakeshop, and his ex girlfriend from the past. With that, you tried to keep up, restarting over again.

words | 5.3k

genres | fluff, angst, amnesia au

pairing | taehyung x reader

warning/s | mentions of death, drinking, disease (cancer)

note | surpisingly, i am still alive lol i'm kidding. i apologize for the delay! the bad headaches are now gone and the fever has cooled down. and now, the update's here! to everyone who sent their messages, tysm I appreciate it 🥺 I didn't mean to ghost y'all, I'm so sorry! anw hope u enjoy reading this one :)

main masterlist | series masterlist

Ever since you were young, you liked things to go the way you planned it. When you were younger, you carried a small notebook with you. Your father gave you your first one during the holidays when you were seven. In there, you make your own little bullet journal, listing off the things you would want to do for the upcoming days. With your messy handwriting, you even wrote your far future plans.

As a child, you used to see things with your rose-colored glasses. Everything seemed real and attainable for your small hands. You thought you just had to follow the usual path of your plans and you would be fine. But things do not always go according to plan. You learned it the hard way.

You always dreamt of being a nurse. At age eight, you were a frequent visitor to the hospital. Not because you were sick yourself, but because you and your mom had to go back there from time to time with your dad who was receiving treatment for his disease. You wanted to take care of him. So you did what a little girl could do, listen to your dad’s heartbeat through your plastic toy stethoscope and kiss his pain away. He would always call you his favorite nurse and you would give him your toothy grin. After a year, when you were nine, he lost his battle with cancer. 

Confused and in sorrow, you almost crossed out that dream from your list. You had a hard time understanding why you had to lose your dad at such an early age. Your friends had dads, how come you lost yours before you could even reach middle school? Then, you became angry. Your father was always in treatment in the hospital. Hospitals are meant to cure people, right? Your little kid brain thought. It felt unfair to you.

But then, you and your mom later left the small neighborhood you were living in and moved in with your aunt– her older sister. Aunty Belle is a nurse herself, a surprise for you as you didn’t know you have a relative who works in the same place you loathed at that time. But you couldn’t bring yourself to hate her, she was warm and welcoming when you arrived in her humble abode in Incheon. She doesn’t have a family of her own so she took good care of you and your mom. She became your third parent while your mom deals with the grief of losing her husband.

“It’s fun. You get to meet wonderful people every day and help them to feel better.” your aunt replied once when you asked her about her job.

Aunty Belle never got tired of your questions and curiosity about nursing. Slowly, you began rebuilding your plans. The dream of being a nurse is back, added with your other dreams: making your mom happy, and living independently (like your aunt). You studied hard, aiming for higher grades and going to the best college for your dreams.

But at age fifteen, Aunty Belle became your legal guardian when your mom passed. Through your aunt, you learned that your mother has been struggling heavier than you expected. Your aunt was extremely worried for your mom that’s why she begged her to come and live with her. You always thought your mom was getting better with how she cried less day by day and even took a job as a receptionist in a dental clinic. 

Since then, you have become more understanding and emotionally sensitive to everyone. The feelings you had years ago when you lost your dad were creeping around you. This time, instead of being angry at something else, you felt like this one was on you. You blamed yourself for not seeing the signs from your mother’s eyes. How she became more reserved or how her eyes were often blank whenever she tried to smile for you. Maybe you were too focused on reaching your plans that you didn’t give any attention to her. You were angry, hurt, and in guilt. It’s too overwhelming and is heavy in your heart. It reached the point where you broke down during breakfast, in front of the toast and bacon Aunty Belle prepared for you, weeks after your mom’s funeral.

“I should’ve seen it. I should have seen that she was not okay.” you sniffed as you looked down your plate. “I was supposed to make her feel better and happy.”

Crying, you pushed your plate in front of you and just covered your face with your palms. You repeated the words over and over again like you were reminding yourself how you failed as your mom’s only child.

“Oh, sweetie…” your aunt whispered before sitting beside you and enveloping you in a hug. Her hand moved up and down your arms, making you feel warm. “It’s not your fault. You are the best daughter she could ask for. She loves you more than anything else.”

After that morning, Aunty Belle made sure to get you the best help. She guided you in everything she could and supported you with your choices. She made sure that you will still pursue your plans, never stopping you from doing what you want. Years later, you graduated from high school and were about to embark on a new journey.

“You know that you can just have this place,” she mumbled when you were packing your things. “I’m selling it anyway.”

“But Aunty, this isn’t in my plan. You know how bad I want to live in Seoul.” you smiled at her.

Because of your efforts and hard work, you got accepted into one of the best universities in another city. You later moved from Incheon to Seoul to finish your studies and become a nurse there. While Aunty Belle sold her home and followed her own plans of living with her longtime best friends under one roof.

But none of what happened in the last few years was part of your plans when you were younger. You didn’t really see yourself coming back to Incheon after living in Seoul for the longest time. You never thought you would leave your job in the hospital you dreamed of and work in a slightly different environment.

Two years ago, you left home. The house you had plans in with someone else. You were the one who broke off those plans and moved away without really telling anyone. You remembered that night like it was yesterday.

Every step you took away from him felt like a piece of you fell on the ground. Your vision was all blurry and you had to cover your lips as you sobbed. You clutched onto your gown while you remind yourself that you need to do this. For the sake of your own being. But still, there is this voice telling you to stay– to turn around and come back to him.

“YN, honey,” 

Looking up, you see Julia looking at you with sympathy. She walked towards you with open arms and you immediately just broke down on her dress. Listening to your sobs, Julia eyes her date, whom you didn’t notice was there waiting too, to get in the car. 

Your whispered voice muffled in the hug, “I hate this so much,”

The whole drive home, Julia and Chanyeol respected your silence in the backseat. They put on some radio music and chatted about the wedding while your teary eyes just looked outside the window. They were like your parents that night. When you guys passed by McDonald’s, it took one nudge from Julia to make Chanyeol turn the car back around for the drive-thru. She ordered your food for you in a separate bag so you could have something to eat when you reached home. When you arrived in front of your house, they helped you with your small bag. 

“Thank you so much, guys. I’m sorry this is our first meeting, Chanyeol.” you tried to lighten the mood as you three stood on the porch.

He smiled, “It’s fine. Everyone has their bad day.”

You chuckled before Julia nudged her again with her elbow. Then, she turns to you.

“What time are you leaving tomorrow?”

“Probably early morning. I already have the keys to keep my apartment so I can go there now too if I want to.” your words rambled as your head felt like a mess.

“Okay, call me. I’ll pick you up–” Before you can say anything, she lifts her finger. “And no, I won’t take no for an answer. I wanna see your new place.”

They left after Julia made sure you were fine. Walking into your house for the last time, you tried to go straight to your room to change from your gown to your pajamas. Then, you cried again. And again. And again. 

The last time you woke up in that house was the morning after that. You woke up before dawn. The sky was barely lit and the moon was still present above you. You promised yourself that you would leave like a ghost. Like what you have been doing the last few days. Cleaning up, your hand ran on your bedsheets to smoothen out the wrinkles. Fortunately, almost ninety percent of your clothes fit in two pieces of luggage. You just have to leave a few things that you’ll probably get when you get back.

From Julia

Will be there in five

Five minutes left, you find yourself sitting in front of your vanity mirror. Making one last check, you pulled the small drawers in the table. That’s when you saw that old pearl ring Taehyung bought you in the flea market. A heavy sigh from your chest makes its way out of your lips. Holding it between your thumb and index finger, you stare at it.

We tried, didn’t we?

Before any tears can fall, you simply close your eyes. Your chest heaves. You clutched that ring in your palm for some minute, like you were giving your one last goodbye. Then, you carefully place it next to your keys. You decided to leave your keys as you don’t want to come and go here in secret as you always have the tendency to do that especially if you want to avoid a person. Like you were doing now. You want to come back here better and hopefully, talk to Taehyung in the future.

Feel at home, this house is yours too. Paint the walls with the colors you like, buy new furniture, and fill the frames with new memories. Just please don’t sell it. I’ll try to reach out as soon as I can. For now, live the last years you missed.

You wrote on a piece of paper that you left on the same table. In the weeks you two lived together after the accident, you knew how he struggled to adjust to this house. Now that you’re going, you wish for him to feel comfortable in this house you two shared and called home. The pieces of furniture and shade of blue that took over every wall in the house were picked by both you and Taehyung when you bought it. The frame kept every memory you and Taehyung love to look back on in the span of your four-year relationship. But if it means for him to feel at home, you won’t mind if he wants to change things around the house. Even though it will probably break your heart harder than it is now.

“You…”

It was only your first morning, the second day in your new apartment in Incheon when someone came knocking on your door. You were still organizing your place and unpacking when you heard continuous heavy knocks. Almost instantly, your eyes widened when you saw who it was through your door’s peephole. The person spoke again as soon as you opened your door.

“You moved?!” Jisoo immediately pushed through your door and welcomed herself in. “You moved here?!”

Based on the tone of her voice, she was more angry than surprised. Her eyebrows were scrunched together while her nose flared. Her hands were on her hips like she was waiting for an explanation. Your lips opened for a second before it closed again. You softly scratched your cheek before opening your lips again,

“I-I thought you were on your honeymoon vacation.”

She tilts her head, “Well, I’m not. Am I?”

“Why are you here?” you mumbled, sounding scared at her.

The thing is, Jisoo rarely gets angry or annoyed. You had known her ever since you began working as a nurse and you learned she have the longest patience for everyone else. But when she runs out of it, you don’t know how she will react.

“Why are you here?” she returned your question with raised eyebrows. “You did not tell me you were moving here or resigning in the hospital! What happened?”

You closed the door and quietly walked back to your messy living room since you knew she would follow. She did and continued,

“I saw the shift schedule like two hours ago and you’re not there. I had to ask Gail and she said you resigned. You were not answering my calls or messages! I had to call Julia. Then, she told me you moved here– What the fuck happened? I was only busy for like two weeks and next thing I know, my best friend’s in another city and hospital.”

You sat on your grey couch while Jisoo still stood in front of you. You looked away as your replied,

“Well, actually I’ll be working in a school–”

Jisoo’s tone went higher, “What?!”

“I applied as a school nurse–”

“No, no, no.” she shushed you. “Tell me everything that happened. Everything.”

So you did. But first, you asked her to sit down next to you. You ordered food by app as you don’t really have any stock of food at the moment. While you were waiting for the food, you began telling her about what happened. From how you met Lily to how you happened to be where you are right now. Jisoo listened intently. As you went on, you noticed her shoulders and facial expression softened up. From her jaw being clenched tight, her lips were formed into a slight frown. You tried not to cry throughout the whole story-telling impromptu but your voice did shake and you just felt your best friend’s warm hands somewhere in the middle of your story. At the end, you find yourself leaning your head on her shoulder while she leans hers on top.

“I and Joon just decided to go on honeymoon next month. Plus, I have a toaster and an air fryer in my car.” Jisoo broke the comfortable silence you two shared with a random sentence.

You lifted your head, looking at her, “What? Why?”

“We received like a ton of it from the wedding. We had to give some stuff away rather than selling it and I just knew your place is probably still empty. So I just bought some. I have plates too.” she smiled.

“But what if I was the one who gave you that toaster?” you asked, squinting your eyes.

“You did not.” she chuckled but your expression didn’t change. She blinked and asked with a feeble voice, “You did not, right?”

Your lips broke into a smile, “Yeah, we didn’t.”

She pouted before you two laughed and hugged. Just like that, you and Jisoo are okay.

Unlike any of your past decisions, nothing was truly planned when you decided to move away. Aunty Belle, whom you visit every now and then, comforted you about it and said that life just happens like that sometimes. And that’s how your two years went. Unplanned. You just applied for the first good job you saw, which happened to be being a school nurse in a preschool. You moved to another apartment after just a few months since your initial place is farther on the subway you always take to get to the school every morning.

Working with kids, you always miss your patients back in Seoul. Particularly, Naeun, whom you are still in contact with. You visit her a couple of times when you go to Seoul.

And there were times when you thought you saw Taehyung. Not just in Seoul, but also in Incheon. The first one was just months after you left, you were on your way to preschool when you saw him in the subway. But you thought it was just a look-alike and impossible since he would not have any reason to come here. Plus, you were feeling a little down that week as it was supposedly your fifth anniversary. The next time is when you come to Seoul to visit Naeun. It was a busy Sunday and you stopped by a toy store in the mall to get a gift for your favorite patient. It was a bit crowded since it was on sale. So you lost him in the blink of an eye.

The most recent one is when you came to Seoul for Julia’s birthday. You had a few drinks with your friends and everything was already slightly blurry. But you swore you saw him when you were waiting for your Uber late at night. You were with Julia, who was waiting with you just to make sure you’d be safe. She was talking about something but your eyes caught a man walking on the other side of the road with his head down on his phone. The small light coming from his screen made you recognize him. It’s him, you’re sure.

Although you have visited the city a couple of times already, you never drop by the bakeshop or the house. You never even contacted Taehyung. There were times it crossed your mind. But you never did. You miss him. God knows, how much. But you don’t know what to say about the house, him, you, or the relationship you two had.

You and Jimin talked seldomly. The first one was a week after you and Taehyung officially went separate ways. He would ask how are you and you would do the same thing. You were surprised but happy at the same time when you learned he had a kid, who happens to be Jisoo’s nephew. You two had this unspoken rule to not talk about Taehyung because Jimin doesn’t bring him up and you are too shy to ask. But you know they are doing well, you heard they expanded the shop.

In the whole two years, Taehyung never really left your mind. It’s hard. Especially when you would still get random reminders of your relationship in unexpected ways. In what was supposed to be your fifth anniversary, you got a scheduled e-mail from his account. Every year, your phone calendar still updates you to buy him a gift a month before his birthday. And just like last month, you found an old picture in one of your bags. Something you probably slipped there long ago. It’s a picture taken years ago during your first snow in your house with a handwritten caption, TOO MORE SNOWY DAYS TOGETHER. It was in his handwriting.

“Goodbye, Nurse YN!”

A little kid waved his little hand to you while his mom politely smiled at you. You waved back and continued walking back from your small clinic. This is how your day ends in school: tiny voices saying goodbye and sometimes giving you warm hugs. You were never really busy since you worked with two other school nurses who you became friends with. 

“Oh, hey, YN.”

You just sat in front of your computer screen, recording some student’s health records, when your co-nurse popped into your shared office. Martha just found her recent hobby a couple of months ago after you told her that you haven’t been dating for the last couple of years.

You exaggeratedly sighed and did not even look at her, “What do you want?”

“YN sounds so tired of you already.” Aileen, your other co-nurse, laughed while organizing her files.

“I know, she is.” Martha chuckled. She turns to you, “I know a guy…”

You paused from what you were doing, “Martha–” 

It’s not like you’re not interested in dating. It took you more than a year to be open again to the idea and so far, you’ve gone into two dates from Martha’s recommendations. But both were not a match. The first one is a great guy but he seems like he cannot get over an ex since he talked about her half of the time. While the second guy is just rude. That’s all you can say about him. The date was all about him not liking how the steak was cooked and how one of the waiters was too kind to you. It was horrible.

“No, no, honey. Listen to me first.” Matha cuts you off. “I personally know this guy. He’s my cousin and… he also works in the medical field! He’s a doctor.”

An eyebrow raised. A doctor? Well, you never dated one before. But you knew doctors were better than that last guy you mentioned.

Aileen joined, “Is he the one you showed me earlier?

“Yup,” Martha replied, popping the ‘p’ sound.

“Oh, you’ve got to see him, YN. The guy is gorgeous!” she exclaimed. “If you won’t date him, I will!”

The three of you laughed. Of course, Aileen can’t. She is currently seven months pregnant with her second child and married to one of the teachers in this same preschool.

“Just don’t tell Seb,” she added, mentioning her husband.

You still haven’t said anything even though you are admittedly interested. Martha pulled her phone out.

“Wait, I’ll show you his account.”

“Oh, that dress suits you perfectly!”

Jisoo’s voice filled your room as you fixed the dress on your body. Even though you two are in different cities, she is still your go-to every time you need to dress up for something. Usually, through Facetiming. The date is fine-dining. So, you tried on different dresses for Jisoo to pick on and eventually, you two agreed on the same one.

“Don’t forget your coat! It might get cold,” she advised. “Now, turn around again!”

You giggled before doing what she said. You heard her cheer and compliments, making you smile.

“You are stunning!”

“Thank you so much for helping me, Jiji,” you said with a small smile.

“You’re welcome. Just have fun, okay? Let me know how it goes later.” she told you and you nodded. She spoke again, “Now, go! Book that Uber already.”

“Okay, okay. Bye! Call you later. Love you!” you waved.

She waved back, “Love you, take care!”

You ended the call and moved to another app to look for a ride. Your date initially asked if you wanted him to pick you up. But you just agreed to meet him at the restaurant he invited you to. He seems nice. Martha said her cousin has been single for a while now. After his last relationship, he just gave most of his time to work.

To +82 65 78** ****

Hi! I’m on my way. See you there.

You sent your date the message when you finally got in the car you booked twenty minutes ago. It did not even take a few minutes before he replied,

From +82 65 78** ****

Okay, see you there! Take care.

Pursing your lips, you look outside the window of the moving car. You hope for the best for tonight. You hope Martha’s recommendation is at least okay this time. Maybe the universe could prove to you that Taehyung is not the only guy in the world who could make the butterflies play around in your stomach. Or the only guy who would be patient enough with your tendencies. You just have to know that he is not the only guy in the world. Period.

As much as you won’t say it, dating Taehyung for four years made him your standard for everything. You already met two versions of him; one before the accident and one after the accident. They are almost the same person but the latter just brought you a lot of pain because of various circumstances. But you know and feel he shows his emotions in other ways.

“We’re here.” the female driver, whom you saw is Val, said as she stopped the car in front of the brightly lit restaurant.

You smiled before getting out of the vehicle, “Thank you.”

Starry Night lives up to its name. As you noticed before, the whole place is lit up with many lights. Carefully, you walked inside with your strappy heels. The staff smiled and greeted you, and you greeted them back.

“Good evening, madam. Welcome to Starry Night. How may I help you?”

“I have a reservation under Jung Hoseok’s name.” you politely replied.

“Oh, okay. Let me check our list. Excuse me.” the host scrolled down his iPad for a minute. “The name’s here! Please, follow me to your table. This way please.” 

You followed him while looking around the place. It’s not too crowded and it has a romantic feeling because of the lights and jazz music. You know someone who would have loved to go here. Before you sit down, the host assisted you with the chair and offered to take your coat. You agreed. Pulling out your phone from your purse, you update Hoseok that you just arrived. You put your phone down and studied the whole place again with your eyes. 

A woman caught your eye. She was talking and chatting with the chef in the side station. They looked like they were waiting for someone to enter the door. Your gaze were broke off when someone spoke from your side.

“Good evening, ma’am. My name is Soojin and I’ll be your waiter for tonight. Would you like to order something?” the young waiter smiled.

“Oh, I’m still waiting for my date…” you murmured. “But can I have some water please?”

“Certainly, ma’am. Excuse me.”

Soojin left as you said thank you. As she was gone from your sight, your eyes landed on the man who was entering the restaurant. Dressed in a nice black coat over a light blue shirt, you quickly recognize him. Your mouth runs dry while your heart beats like a horse’s footsteps in a race. You were frozen.

What is he doing he– Fuck.

Your eyes meet. You can see his eyes widening as his lips gaped slightly. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down while you practically lost your hearing. All you can hear is the drum inside your chest.

Fuck, you cursed again.

What are the chances for this to happen? Is the universe playing or simply fucking with you? You asked for a great date and it gave you this. The man you’ve been holding as your standard ever since. 

It burns.

His eyes. You can feel them as you take a sip from the ice-cold glass of water. After the host led him to one of the empty tables in your line, your eyes traveled everywhere except on his spot. You two were literally just an empty table apart.

Is he here for a date? Why here? In Incheon, really? Can’t he just date people from Seoul?

It has been nine minutes, you’ve been counting. Your hand rests on your knee, to stop your knees from jerking up and down, while the other rests on the table with your phone. You’ve been texting but erasing messages to Hoseok. You don’t think you can do this. With Taehyung being just a few feet away from you, it felt wrong to be with someone else. You should have been sitting right in front of him.

Slowly, you try to move your eyes in his direction. You paused when you saw that he was staring at you too, unmovable. Are you supposed to smile? Wave? Nod. just nod. You were about to do that when the same woman from the side station walked up to him, covering your view of him.

“Hi, good evening!” you heard her honey-like voice greet him. “I’m Ashley.”

You noticed Taehyung stood up. They shake hands and you don’t really hear the rest of their conversation. You began texting your date,

To +82 65 78** ****

Hi. Where are you?

You’ve been alone for a while now.

Taehyung noticed. The glass of water on your table is almost empty. The waiter already come back to you a couple of times now. He can see you chewing on your lower lip as you check your phone every minute that passes by.

Did your date just stand you up?

His hands clutched as he thought of that idea. He knew you didn’t deserve that.

“I think this is good! Not too sweet, not too spiced. It’s soft too. Just perfect.” Ashley snapped him from his thoughts.

Taehyung tried to concentrate on what he originally meant to do here, “Yeah… uhm… Jimin, my friend, really tries to balance the texture and taste. It’s his own carrot cake recipe that he worked on before we even had the shop.”

Ashley already had a taste of every cake he brought. Five open Tupperware are on their table, including the cheesecake you love. She began talking about the other cakes and dessert while Taehyung stole some glances at you again. This time, you are on call. You pursed your lips before replying to whoever it was. He can read the disappointment through your eyes as your lips form into a small frown. You sighed before saying, it’s fine, I understand. No problem. 

“Okay, these are really good. I think your products will be a great addition to our menu.” Ashley spoke again. 

Taehyung looked at her with surprise, “Oh, wow. That’s… great.”

Did he just get this deal?

“Yeah, I trusted my chef when he said he had the best Tiramisu in your shop and I’m glad I did. These desserts are perfect and really satisfy my sweet tooth.” She compliments.

Taehyung bowed his head, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Your desserts deserve to be everywhere. Haven’t you guys thought of opening a branch here?” she asked.

“Oh, we’re still figuring things out. We just expanded our main shop in Seoul.” he chuckled.

“Well, I might go there when I visit Seoul.”

“Please do and let us know.” he smiled.

“I will. By the way, the contract is not ready now. But we are definitely having this deal! Can you and Jimin visit here again next week or maybe me and my head chef can visit your shop in Seoul?” Ashley offers.

“I still have to discuss that with my friend.”

“Oh, sure. Sure. Here, we are okay with any decision. Just let us know. You guys have our e-mail and numbers, right?” Taehyung nods. “Okay, I guess… that’s a done deal.”

Ashley stood up and offered her hand. Taehyung stood up too and shook her hand. 

“Thank you so much.” Taehyung smiled.

While Ashley replied, he stole another glance behind her. That’s when he sees you standing up and walking back to the host at the entrance of the restaurant. The host had an apologetic look on his face as you talked to him. He helped you with your coat. It seems like you’re leaving with your date being a no-show. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. But I would have to go for now..” Taehyung carefully said.

Ashley smiled, “Oh, of course. Yes. You can go. But one more thing… can you leave these cakes?”

Taehyung chuckled with that, “Of course!”

“Thank you! See you in the contract signing!”

“See you.” 

Taehyung took his coat from his seat and left in a hurry. You were already gone, possibly out of the restaurant. He said thank you to the staff who opened the door for him and he immediately searched around. That’s when he sees you standing, looking down at your phone.

“This one’s just a few minutes away–”

He took a deep breath before saying, “YN?”

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RESTARTING OVER AGAIN TAGLIST [🔧🔨 ]

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[chaostroberry1]

I would like to request another yandere please

Like what you did for Apollo but for Nikola Tesla please

.

.

.

PLEASSSSSSS I BEG OF YOU I NEED ITTT PKEASEEEEE 😭😭😭😭😭

The man has barely any media and I'm pretty sure he will never even get a sub plot but okeaseeeeeee I beggggg I beg on my knees for content of him pleaseeeeeee I begggggg of youuuuuu

Ofc! Nikola Tesla 🔛🔝

Yandere Nikola Tesla × Reader

Tesla's love calculations | by chaostroberry1 (loading...)

Love isn't a good enough word for how I feel. | Tesla's love calculations

- I'd say you were a janitor, who'd always clean up after him and all of the workers mess. You could say you even cleaned up exhausted workers who were incredibly tired after using up their brain power.

- but, not only that, you had a sweet crush on the main man. One who did not care about resting. Always using his brain whenever it came to new ideas that he believed he could create.

- he never noticed you, he was too busy with his work. And had already shown that he didn't really have given for that type of stuff. It's sad, but you had to get over it. You can't force someone to love some nobody like you.

- What you weren't aware of, was the fact that he also felt the same way. He just didn't understand his feelings yet. But that was all until he saw you interact in a little conversation with one of the men there. It just struck his heart with negativity for some reason, and he didn't understand.

- he had to think long and hard before finally realizing it after one of the dudes beside him noticed his jealous gaze, suddenly calling him out and asking if he wanted to be the one talking to you instead. Of course..how could he not have realized it before? He was in love! Or was it even love..?

- his fellow workers caught on after word spread around, obviously not to you, but almost everyone working with the mad scientist. And do not deny it, I KNOW they gossip. They oughta be snickering when they see Tesla eyeing someone out of jealousy that they were talking to you. Oh man, that was some real drama right there.

- if you look closely, he has a few books that he's been reading. About love, and all. Such a sweetheart he was...or not. (I'm sorry for edging y'all so much.)

- he came across one book that talked about the difference of love and obssession, and it really caught his eye. Making him buy it immediately and then reading about it.

- It was a poorly made book. The pages were torn and made of low quality materials. But that didn't stop him. The book perfectly described his feelings towards you, and it came to be such a surprise to him when he saw that ot was a sign of really unhealthy love. He had to read it over and over again, wanting to believe that maybe it was just a misunderstanding. But it wasn't. Whoever wrote it knew very well what they were doing.

- the next day, he avoided talking to you as much as he could. The man only wanted to make inventions, he didn't care about things like love. But oh boy was it so difficult to keep his eyes off you. The prettiest thing he saw and felt, it was undescribable. When you got the idea that he hated you, it ended with you talking to him less. And he did not like that.

- he caught you talking to another guy, a janitor who you've been talking to for the past few weeks now. And I am not kidding when I say that all the workers there saw the bitter look on Tesla's face. You thought it would end there, right? Wrong. A day passes, and you find out that the same guy you talked to, had ended up passing due to getting too close to one of the inventions. In Tesla's defence, he had told the guy not to touch any buttons, but the guy ended up doing so anyway, which is unbelievable. But you had no choice but to listen anyway.

- the real story was that the guy tried to clean the invention, which was made by the dear scientist, who made sure to program it as a bomb. Strong enough to kill anything once it's ready to explode. Tesla knew this, it was his plan all along to get rid of that pest, without putting suspicion on his name. And it worked! Good for him.

- finally, he confessed his love for you. Which you happily agreed to. Because you were just a little dummy who didn't know any better. That's why you were better off with him, cus he was smarter, and knew what was good for you.

- you won't even realize his growing possessiveness, not even when he gave such a bitter face to the people who are around you. Would you believe me if I said that he even thought of lying to you that a life threatening world ending virus was spreading and he had to lock you up forever to keep you safe? Let's be happy that he didn't go through with that. He's not THAT bad.

- he loves having you around whenever he's working on something, just so that when his eyes get tired from looking at the board, he can look back at you and immediately get an energy boost.

- he was such a sweetheart and he loved you so much. It was best of you just didn't know his secret side when it came to you. He barely let's you out. He'd drag you around to show you new things or ideas he came up with, and even asked you if you wanted anything made just for you.

- he won't ever let you out unless it was necessary. Like maybe a fire, or evacuating to somewhere safe.

- Expect him to ask for your opinion on basically anything. Just so that he can interrupt your thoughts from going anywhere near the idea of leaving.

- when you and him do it for the every first time, man was he addicted. It's like anytime he's stressed after work, he immediately gets on you so that you could relieve him. He's nice, don't worry. He's very romantic too.

- I can also believe that he'd make good pickup lines. Like geek typa shit that you wouldn't understand. But that's okay, it's Tesla. Your loving husband.

- Promise him that you'd stay with him forever. Don't ever make him think you'd leave. You know what happened to your friend right? He'll threaten to do stuff like that in the future if there really was no other way to convince you.

___

@gayerthanthegays here you go!! Luv some Nikola Tesla content 😍

[wispstalk]

wip wednesday

been tagged by various people over the past few weeks and didn't have much to share but now y'all get...

🚨🚨 IDLE IN THEIR THRONES SECRET BONUS CHAPTER 🚨🚨 i'm editing a version of my fic for my man, bc he wants to read my shit. but the problem is that my intended audience for the Oblivion fic is "people who have played oblivion" which he has not.

I made some mostly-minor changes to contextualize events/characters but Tanis's university B-plot warranted another chapter. Includes one microfic I've already posted, but the rest is new. fair warning: 4k words under the cut. tagging everyone who tagged me: @nuwanders @jiubilant @dirty-bosmer @sylvienerevarine @ehlnofay @everybodyknows-everybodydies (and a special shoutout to Talviel because I referenced her menus for the last section)

--

“Impressive, Apprentice!” Julienne Fanis, the Master Alchemist, watches with delight as the angry weal on Tanis’s neck smooths and seals over. “Sorry, Journeyman, isn’t it? Now that you have your staff. Traven ought to have bumped you up a few ranks after what you went through to get it…”

Tanis makes a noncommittal noise. He had thought, perhaps stupidly, that being ambushed by necromancers was only a test of his mettle. Only when he made an offhand remark to Delmar, the Master Enchanter, did the Elder Council fly into a flurry. The University has been abuzz ever since, and Tanis attracts stares everywhere he goes.

He rubs at the healed cut, which has begun to itch with a fury. “Trouble with spiddal stick,” he says, “is that it burns out the infection, and then keeps burning. But I thought with a pinch of frost salts—”

“Ah, but the cost…” Julienne’s eyes widen as Tanis produces a sizeable jar of salts. “Well! If we must be plagued with these Oblivion gates, I should count myself blessed to have a student bold enough to enter them.”

He offers her a half-grin and pinches some salt into his calcinator. “Or mad enough to go flower-picking in the Deadlands.”

“Well, should you decide the frost salts aren’t worth the risk, I’d try lady’s smock leaves. That ought to counteract the irritation.” She regards him, head cocked. “You seem to have a talent for healing. I’m more inclined to banecraft, myself, but I try to make my students understand that it’s not so different, is it? Here you’ve just made a healing salve from a poisonous flower.”

Yena would like this woman. “Just toyed around with it and got lucky. I’d like to learn more. Who’s the Master Restorationist here?”

Julienne gives him a strange look. “The University does not have a Master Restorationist. I teach apprentices how to make basic restoratives, and the Master Alterationist covers spellwork. But if you’re looking to further your studies, there is always work in the infirmary. I could have a word with the chief medic.”

Tanis blinks up at her. Yena would really like this woman. That was all the old witch ever wanted for him— a life as a healer. He wrote her off, could never tolerate working in a temple, but perhaps here…

“Excuse me, Master Fanis.” The reedy voice of a young woman cuts through the workroom. “Master Polus has requested Tanis Irathi’s presence in the tower lobby.” The grey-robed assistant does not wait for a response, but only ducks her head and shuffles out.

Tanis raises an eyebrow. Julienne Fanis gives him a tight smile. “One of Raminus’s little errands, no doubt.”

“Can’t it wait?” Tanis complains, and moderates the heat beneath his calcinator.

“You’d best go. Your reduction won’t go to waste, I’ll finish it.” Julienne sighs as she glances around the workroom. “I do hope you’ll keep attending lectures. I lose some of my most promising alchemists this way. The Council tends to take notice of mages with… certain skills.”

She throws a look at his swordbelt, slung over the edge of the worktable. He has, perhaps, made himself stand out. No one else wears a weapon around campus, unless he counts staves. And after what he went through to earn his, he paid the Master Enchanter to tip it with an ebony spearhead.

He leaves Julienne to experiment with his cache of Daedric ingredients, and makes for the tower.

—

Two days later, Tanis storms into the tower lobby, saddlesore and filthy with road dust. Raminus looks up at his arrival, and his face turns white when Tanis slaps a book down on his desk.

“You sent me after a book,” Tanis says, low and menacing. “So here is a book.”

“Er, Tanis, there—” Raminus clears his throat. “There was never any book.”

“There was never any book,” Tanis agrees.

“The Goblin with the Golden Arm,” Raminus reads from the cover. “Ah. A fiction. Consider your point made, mage.”

Tanis hadn’t put quite that much thought into it; he picked this one off the shelf because he liked the illustrations. “Give me that,” he snaps, and snatches it from Raminus’s hands. “So. What the fuck?”

Raminus takes off his spectacles and rubs at the bridge of his nose. “I’m truly sorry for the lie. Our relationship with the Count is tenuous at best, and Traven thought that sending a high-ranking official to Skingrad would alert the necromancers to our presence and drive them underground. After how capably you handled the necromancers that attacked you among the stave-trees, we thought you a good candidate for this mission.”

Praise, Tanis notes with annoyance, does soften his outrage. “Well, it’s done.”

“Please, tell me everything that happened.”

“Well, to start with, you told me to retrieve a book in the Count’s possession, so I rode all the way to fucking Skingrad, and—”

“I haven’t forgotten, Tanis. Just tell me what you found.”

Tanis had visited the castle once before, when he and Coradri closed the Oblivion gate outside Skingrad’s walls. He had known that Count Janus Hassildor was unlikely to grant him audience. But the castle steward, Mercator, was notably more unfriendly when Tanis identified himself as a representative of the mages guild.

Mercator informed him that the Count would meet him after dark, north of the mineshaft outside the city walls. So, after sharing a few rounds with the patrons at the West Weald Inn, Tanis made his way there.

“It was a trap,” Tanis tells Raminus. “Mercator and two of his friends met me instead. Summoned wraiths from thin air, cast a silence spell over me, and attacked.”

“My word, this is worse than we thought.” Raminus’s expression grows grave. “The Count sent him to kill you?”

No, Tanis continues, the Count arrived just as Tanis finished them off. Janus Hassildor was white with fury, or so Tanis thought— then he caught the strange glow to his eyes, his sallow cheeks. The flash of long canines as he gave Tanis an earful.

I suspected Mercator was involved with the necromancers, Hassildor said, but I would not move against him without knowing the identities of his allies. Despite what your Council may think, I would never throw in with such a cult.

“And he told me,” Tanis concludes, “the next time you want something from him, you come yourselves.”

“I see.” Raminus sighs and rubs at his jaw as he takes it in. “Tanis, please believe me when I say it was never the Council’s intention to put you in harm’s way.”

“Oh, piss off with that. I was four beers deep and had no fucking clue what was going on, but those three couldn’t have left a scratch on me.”

The Master Wizard lets out a humorless huff of laughter. “In any case, we are aware of Count Hassildor’s… condition… but it isn’t public knowledge. For that reason I didn’t share what we knew with you. We will not make that mistake again. And if Hassildor shares in our suspicions about this burgeoning cult, perhaps we can count him among our allies.”

Tanis folds his arms, skeptical. “And you lot aren’t worried that a vampire—”

“He hides his nature well, though he can’t hide it from the Council of Mages. We’ve come to certain accords. And if those agreements are strained of late, the fault doesn’t lie with you.”

“No shit.”

“You’ve done the guild a great service,” Raminus says. “And for that, you earn the rank of Evoker.”

Tanis blinks. While he grasps for something to say, Raminus unlocks the cabinet behind his desk, and comes around with something glittering in his fists. A silver chain with a pendant of citrine, carved with twin hands and the Eye of Magnus. When Tanis takes it into his palm, he senses the warding spell enchanted within it.

“Again, you have my apologies.” Raminus inclines his head. “I will speak to the Council.”

It bothers Tanis to find himself placated by this. Promote him, bestow some magical trinket on him, and he will gladly continue being a useful idiot for the guild. At least, he hopes, the Council will see fit to use their idiot well.

—

“Explain to me,” Tanis says, watching the ghost of his ancestor swoop and howl through the practice room, “how this doesn’t count as necromancy.”

Anaht’s nictitating membranes slide over her eyes in exasperation. “You do not want to get into this with me.”

“Don’t tell me what I want to get into,” he insists, and releases his focus, letting the restive shade return to the other side of the veil. “Say I’m attacked— bandits on the road, say, and say I kill the first one and make him get up and defend me against his fellow rogues and blaggards. That’s beyond the pale, and if I’m caught Traven throws me out on my ass.”

Her tail swishes with impatience. “Those are the rules, yes.”

“But dredging up my pissed-off card out of the ash is fine, and conjuring daedra— daedra, when they’re running thick as rabbits in the countryside— that’s all well and good.”

“Odd for you to be beating the moral drum,” Anaht says finely, “when I happen to know from Proctor Renault that you put your cohort to shame during the conjuration practical. A flame atronach, no less, while the rest of them were nearly bursting blood vessels just to call up a scamp.”

“Morals?” Tanis blinks. “Who the fuck said anything about morals? I’m a lout with a sword who does what I’m bid. It’s just that I can’t make heads nor tails of how you wizards think.”

Anaht relaxes then. “You will find,” she says, sweeping an arm for him to follow her out of the room, “that if there is a single thing that all wizards think, it is that we agree on nothing.”

In the Archives they find Tar-Meena, harried, drawing one claw down a list of requisitions, muttering to herself. “I need the key to the incinerator,” Anaht announces to the Master Archivist.

Tar-Meena throws Tanis a dubious glance, and speaks to Anaht in Jel, unaware that Tanis can parse it. “You are taking that one? Raminus’s hunter?”

“He was my hunter first,” Anaht sniffs, "and like any good hunter he knows when to be quiet."

With a skeptical lift of the brow ridge, Tar-Meena hands over a jangling ring of keys and returns to her work. Anaht leads him through the darkness and hush of the stacks, all the way to the end of the maze of shelves, to an unassuming heavy door.

More crammed bookshelves, to no one’s surprise. Sealed off from the carefully-controlled environment of the stacks, there is a window letting in the afternoon light, and a large round table scattered with a half-finished card game, books and papers, a mug of cold coffee dregs. It seems this vault of forbidden knowledge serves as a sort of employee break room.

No fires to be found, though, not so much as a reedlight. Like the stacks, this room is only to be lit by spell, with polished steel sconces on the wall to reflect the mage-glow.

“Why’s it called the incinerator?” he asks, drawing his reading glasses from his pocket.

“Yes, Arch-Mage,” Anaht says, taking a posture of mock obeisance. “We've found another treatise on the Black Arts, and we'll throw it straight in the fires.”

On the shelf before him, a veritable buffet of taboo: Necromancer’s Moon, Pathway to Lichdom. A journal purported to be authored by the Wolf Queen Potema. Even a title written in Dunmeris, On the Veneration and Summoning of Ancestor Guardians. The very spell he’d just opened his palm and offered his blood to learn.

And, tacked to one corner of the shelving timbers, a small folio: The Black Arts on Trial, by Arch-Mage Hannibal Traven.

“In the interest of being even-handed. A little joke among the scrivs,” Anaht says by way of explanation, then nudges him aside with her hip. “Now move, you big oaf, and let me look for something.”

He takes the folio with him and settles down at the table. The contents of this inflammatory writ are oft-bandied on the University grounds, but he’s never gotten around to reading it, what with all the… everything else.

While he reads, Anaht waltzes around the room, her tail jewelry jangling, occasionally plucking a book like a choice pear and stacking it on her arm.

“This gra-Kogg makes a lot of sense,” he says, holding a finger to mark his place. “Actually think her arguments were better than this other fella’s, but Traven’s conclusion doesn't consider her at all. Why include the debate, then?”

“Keep reading.” Anaht does not look back, but the tip of her tail shakes with mild amusement.

“Oh,” he says, squinting down at the afterword. “Reckon I ought to have seen that coming.”

“These will get you started.” Anaht drops her books to the table with a heavy thump, and delicately pats the top of the stack. Tanis grumbles; there has to be a dozen of them, and he’s already up to his ears in daedric research and work in the infirmary.

She perches lightly in the chair to his left. “Yes, Master gra-Kogg was a necromancer,” she says, and folds her jeweled claws beneath her chin. “But?”

“But,” he sighs, now seeing the point of that menacing bookpile, “that doesn’t make her wrong. Raminus has me running all over Cyrodiil flushing them out of their dens, but I don’t know a damn thing about how to fight them. Can’t interrupt their casting, can’t tell what they’re calling up, don’t know what they’re after.”

“If you insist on being the Council’s hunting dog, I will not have you go forth unprepared.” She taps the silvery-thin scar on the side of his neck, the one he’d earned while ambushed in Wellspring Grove, collecting wood for his mage’s staff. “So long as Traven invites the necromancers' wrath, we archivists will maintain this bulwark against them.”

“Oh, I'm sure it's all very noble."

She ignores the barb, tucking the books in her striped haversack and foisting it on him to carry. “Now come. Let us go to the King and Queen. You owe me dinner.”

Tanis follows her out the door. "What for?"

She swats at him with her tail. “You think I do all this tutoring for free?”

—

After dinner, he sees Anaht back to the University grounds and makes his way to Luther’s boarding house. Coradri is waiting for him in the common room, bouncing off the walls in her effort to rush him right back out the door.

“Good, you’re already dressed for dinner,” she says, breathless. “We have to get to the Tiber Septim Hotel now.”

“I just fucking— the Tiber? Are you trying to bleed me dry?” He lets himself be towed down the street, then digs in his heels. “The plaza district’s the other way, s’wit.”

“Ugh! This city is so big and stupid,” Coradri says with some venom, and steers him in the opposite direction. “Listen, it’s almost ninth bell and we have to hurry. I might have agreed to a private audience with the High Chancellor on your behalf.”

“It better be on his drake, then.” He looks askance at her— dressed in a billowy silk tunic, soft buckskin trousers, and an embroidered vest. “I see you’ve been helping yourself to my purse.”

“I knew you wouldn’t mind.” She dips into a little curtsy. “Can’t show up dressed like some Colovian poacher, can I?”

“You look nice,” he admits grudgingly, and they pass through the gates of the Talos Plaza district.

This part of the city is far more palatial than the Elven Gardens, where they have taken up residence for the past several weeks. The people who stroll the streets are aristocrats by their dress and bearing, and the ancient Ayleid architecture has been well-maintained.

Coradri walks into the sumptuous hotel as if she does this sort of thing all the time. The host identifies them as the Chancellor’s guests, and leads them away from the common dining room to a private balcony overlooking the square.

“Good sir. My lady.” The host drops into a deep bow. “Chancellor Ocato sent a page ahead to inform us that he has been delayed in Council deliberations, but will arrive shortly. He has requested that we bring out the first course while you wait, and a bottle of his favored wine— Tamika’s 415 vintage.”

A serving boy lays out plates of charred fennel and horse carpaccio. The host presents the bottle laid across her arm, then pops the cork in one deft motion and offers it to Tanis.

He takes it, baffled. The porter beams expectantly at him. “Ah, thanks,” he says. “That’ll… be all.”

Coradri erupts into laughter once the servers leave. “You’re supposed to sniff the cork.”

“How d’you know things like that?” Tanis rubs at his temples and stares at the spread before them. “Damn you, scribling. I split a slaughterfish pie with Anaht just before you dragged me here.”

“Tough luck,” Coradri says through a mouthful. “Have at the wine, then. I don’t want any.”

“And I’m already drunk,” he sighs, and pours himself a mug.

“You won’t have to talk much. You were too busy with your studies, so I went to the Elder Council without you. Waved Jauffre’s writ around a lot. Said I was a real Blade. Told them about Brother Martin, even. They won’t send us any legionnaires, I already know that, but I’m not giving up.”

“Fuck me.” Tanis takes a long drink. The wine— there is no other way he can put it— tastes expensive. It blooms at the back of his throat, deep and rich and mellow. “At least the wine’s good.”

“So’s the food,” she says, and reaches for another slice of horsemeat. “I’ve never had anything like this.”

Despite himself, he samples a bite from each platter. “Tell you what, let’s make a pact: after we win the priest his throne, may we never piss him off. Once I see how they live in the White-Gold Tower, I won’t want to go back.”

“Arensha,” she grins. “Do you think we’ll leave for the temple soon?”

“Ah… Raminus wants me to check in on some researchers. They’re excavating a ruin near Cheydinhal. But I can probably slip off after that. We could go there, take the Blue Road back. You getting bored while I’m playing at being a scholar?”

“No. I find plenty to do in this big, stupid city.” She props her chin on her hand and gives him a searching look. “But I miss Brother Martin. Don’t you?”

Tanis narrowly avoids choking on his wine. Just then, Ocato sweeps in, with a trail of attendants behind him, and burbles out apologies while dismissing his retinue with a wave.

The second course, a creamed nettle soup, arrives on the table just as the wizened, willowy Altmer settles into his seat. He greets them graciously and calls for more wine.

Tanis learned his etiquette from frequenting Cyrod merchants; whether it's tea or a full banquet, negotiation will not commence until all parties have sated themselves. Ocato makes polite conversation about the city’s various pleasure gardens and noteworthy watering holes, with Coradri’s occasional interjections to egg him on.

When the final course is cleared— a good two hours later— the real discussion begins. Ocato tents his fingers and looks to Coradri.

“I’ve kept you quite long,” he says, “but of course you didn’t come to the city to drink wine and listen to me blather on, so perhaps we can discuss the matter at hand.”

“Of course we can,” Coradri says. “And I hope the Chancellor will forgive us bringing him out so late, after working so tirelessly in the Council chambers.”

Tanis takes a long draught of wine to stifle a snort. Where does she get this shit?

“Nothing to forgive, of course,” Ocato says with a stately nod. "Your pleas before the Council haven't fallen on hard hearts, I hope you understand."

“The legion can’t be spared, I know, but of course the Chancellor agrees that the safety of the heir is important.”

“The utmost,” Ocato says gravely. “And of course I see the urgency of your request, but the generals simply will not divert the Legion.” He leans in and speaks lowly. “It’s no secret that the ranks have thinned since this crisis began. The Imperial Army has already pulled forces from the provinces, and that may yet cost us. Word has reached us of gates as far-flung as Black Marsh and Skyrim.”

“Of course we understand,” Coradri says. “I mean no insult to the Empire, Chancellor, but Irathi here is a legion in one. Six gates opened outside the cities, you’ll remember, and he closed each of them alone.”

Tanis opens his mouth to protest— Coradri had been with him outside Chorrol and Skingrad— but she stomps on the toe of his boot, the universal sign to shut the fuck up.

“Many of the counts and countesses have written to the Council of your deeds.” Ocato nods in Tanis’s direction. “And of course the whole of Cyrodiil is grateful for your protection. Quite a feat for one man alone.”

“In some ways, it makes him more effective,” Coradri says. “Irathi can move independently. Of course the Elder Council would have responded, we all believe that, but I imagine it would take some time to move enough forces to all six cities?”

“Of course,” Ocato agrees, then shakes his head. “With fourteen of us, the deliberations can go on for— well, I don’t have to tell you, do I? Once again, I do hope you can forgive my late arrival.”

“Of course we do,” Coradri says. “We wait at the Chancellor’s pleasure. The Mythic Dawn may not do the same, but no harm will come to the heir so long as Bruma is defended. And the Hero of Kvatch” —she gestures grandly to Tanis— “is the future Emperor’s own sworn sword.”

“You are the Hero of Kvatch?” Ocato’s eyebrows shoot near up to his hairline. “Of course! Who else could withstand such a trial? Then the Empire has you to thank not only for the security of its cities, but for its heir.”

With his hands under the table, Tanis has been counting off on his fingers. If they say it one more time, he’ll have a perfect round dozen. He likes his lucky numbers.

“Of course,” Ocato says thoughtfully, “as emissaries of the Blades, the council could grant you substantial resources in the army’s stead.”

“As an emissary of the Blades,” Coradri says smoothly, “I can assure you we would put them to good use.”

Ocato clasps his hands together. “It may take some doing— you’ve seen how the Council sessions can drag on— but consider it done. And I expect the Imperial battlemages would be quite interested to know how one man has come to run courses around them.”

A silence falls. Ocato regards Tanis with keen eyes, and Coradri gives him a small secretive smile.

“You… want me to tell you how I close the gates.”

“How you survive them,” Ocato says with a sudden fervor. “How you manage it alone.”

Gold— that’s what Ocato means by substantial resources. Enough for arms, for mounts, for mercenaries, and all he has to do is get to the other end of a story.

Tanis spreads his hands. “Of course.”

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Where's Mommy?

Wolffe x Lilith Sestri (OFC)

Part 18

Summary: Wolffe's wife suddenly dies, leaving him a single father in the middle of a war.

Pairing: Wolffe x Lilith Sestri (OFC)

Characters: Wolffe

Tags & Warnings: heavy angst, mention of death, off-screen death, spousal death, grief, hurt/comfort, family fluff, funeral

Word Count: 1.5k

Author's Note: Gonna be honest with y'all, I wrote this chapter this morning before lunch, because the last two weeks have been hectic at work and I haven't had any time. There was an important executive meeting Wednesday and everyone of importance was there, and then there was me 😅 So, yeah, sorry if this isn't up to my usual standards. I'll probably edit it at some point. As always, please enjoy 💚

Beta: @/beating-a-dead-plot

Part 1 || Prev | Next

Series Masterlist

Wolffe strolled down the streets of Coruscant and followed the coordinates Fox gave him for the nanny service. He was hesitant about hiring a stranger to watch his daughter, but he was more hesitant about leaving her in the sole care of the Jedi in the Temple. Wolffe trusted Plo with his life and his men, but Plo wasn't going to be the one watching Cara, and that was the unsettling part. On the other hand, Fox did mention that he vetted the nanny service, so it seemed safe enough. But it still rolled around in the back of his head like a marble on glass.

Wolffe tilted his head back towards the sky and groaned. He enjoyed life better when he didn't have to make these types of decisions. He was bred to think more outside the box than the average clone, but that was when it came to battle strategies, not babysitting. He knew about war and how to fight one, so he knew how to make those proper decisions, even in a split second on the battlefield under heavy fire, he could make clear and concise choices. However, parenting didn't come with a manual, simulations, target practice, or anything else useful.

Wolffe's comm beeped when he reached the coordinates. He must have been deep in his thoughts to have kept walking and ended up at the location he was headed to without realizing it. Auto-pilot is what everyone called it, but Wolffe called it a death trap. Distractions like that could get him and his entire battalion killed and then Cara would have no one–she'd be a real orphan. The thought made Wolffe shiver. He was going on a simple rescue mission and he'd be right back when it was done. There was no need for him to think those thoughts.

Wolffe looked up at the bright pink and blue neon sign with lines that swirled into odd shapes reminiscent of Galactic Basic letters. He raised an eyebrow at the strange sign and tilted his head to the side to try and read it. Why couldn't people just make signs with normal letters? He squinted in a final effort to read the words, but he shook his head and walked through the door without knowing what it said. If he was at the wrong establishment, he'd turn around, but something about the decor in the lobby told him he was in the right place.

It was a cross between, what Wolffe would consider, a child's play area and a sterile medcenter examination room. It looked and smelled clean, like an exam room, but their decorations were vibrant and colorful, and there were children's toys everywhere. It looked like a controlled clutter and it made Wolffe feel uncomfortable–anxious. He grew up in a sterilized environment with soft white lights, where the only color he ever saw was the dull blue or red of the cadet uniforms. The amount of color in this room made him dizzy.

"Can I help you?" the woman behind the counter asked.

Wolffe snapped out of his daze and approached the counter. The receptionist seemed nice enough–middle-aged, with graying hair, and glasses that reflected the light from the screen she sat behind. "I need a…" he paused. The words felt foreign in his mouth and almost disgusting to say, and he didn't know why. "...a nanny."

The woman grabbed one of the data-pads out of the docking port and handed it to Wolffe. "Start with completing this form."

Wolffe took the data-pad and stared at the woman, waiting for more direction. "Where…"

"You can sit in one of the chairs over there," she said. She stood up and pointed to a row of chairs that lined the far wall.

Wolffe nodded and sat in one of the chairs. It was made of plastic and squeaked under his weight. Even the chairs made Wolffe uncomfortable. Everything about this place made him feel itchy and prickly under his skin. He rapidly tapped his foot on the floor and periodically reminded himself to stop. The clones didn't have nervous tics. Well, at least, clone commanders didn't have nervous tics, and he wasn't sure when he possibly picked one up, but he could guess it had something to do with Cara. He wouldn't even be in this room if it wasn't for her.

Wolffe took a deep breath and started filling out the form. It started with simple information. How many kids–easy, one. Name–also easy, Cara. Date of birth–oh, no. He knew the day Cara was born, didn't he? Wolffe tapped his foot harder. What kind of father was he if he couldn't remember his only child's birthday? Maker, he wished his wife could help him. Then a light bulb turned on. The recording of Cara's birthday had a time stamp. Luckily, he had a good memory, and he input the date and month, and with a little math, he added the year.

Wolffe continued to work on the form. Much of it was simple, but there were more difficult parts, mostly to do with him. It asked for his last name–he didn't have one. It asked for his identification number–he didn't have one. It asked for his occupation–what was he supposed to put? War? Clone? Commander? He decided to leave it blank and move on. It was a dumb question anyway. This was about Cara, not him. Everything else about Cara and his wife was easy to input. It did ask for allergy and pediatrician information, but he didn't have any of that.

Once he completed the form to his best abilities, he brought the data-pad back to the woman at the counter. She took it and started importing the data into their system while Wolffe stood and waited for her to finish.

The woman frowned. "This form is incomplete."

Maker, he just wanted to get out of here. "I put in what I could."

"Your last name?" she asked. She stared at him like he was stupid or something.

"I don't have one," he said. "I'm a clone."

"Hm," she huffed with surprise. "I didn't know clones could have children."

Wolffe huffed. "We're not exactly sterile."

The woman ignored the comment. "I'll just put 'clone' as your last name. It won't let me submit the form without it."

Wolffe sighed. "Whatever works."

"And your daughter is…" she began. "Cara Dalott?" She paused, looking confused. "Wait, as in the Dalott's? The aristocratic Dalott family on the upper level? That Dalott?"

Wolffe gritted his teeth. "Yes, that Dalott."

"I didn't know the Dalott's had a granddaughter," she said while scanning through the rest of the information.

Now, he was getting annoyed. "It wasn't advertised."

"Such a shame about their daughter, Maria, though," she said, not looking up from her screen. "She had so much potential. What a waste."

"Please," Wolffe said. "Don't talk to me about my dead wife."

The woman peered up at him from behind her glasses, then went back to looking at her screen. "There's still some mis–"

Wolffe flattened his palms against the counter and took a deep breath. "Listen, all I need is for someone to live in the Jedi Temple and take care of my daughter while I'm halfway across the galaxy fighting a war! Can you help me or not?"

The woman sighed and placed the data-pad down. "Mr. Wolffe, do you need a live-in, full-time, or part-time nanny?"

"Live-in," he said.

"Species preference?"

"Human."

"Gender preference?"

"Female."

"Age preference?"

"Don't care."

"And when do you need the nanny?"

"Tomorrow, before sunset."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "You just want everything, don't you?"

"Do you have someone or not?" he asked.

The woman pulled out her comm. "I might have one that fits your needs. I'll send her a message and see if she's available to start tomorrow, but no guarantees."

"Thank you," he said. "How much?"

"How long do you need her for?" she asked.

Wolffe shrugged. He could try to guess, but it wouldn't be accurate. "Maybe two or three months?"

"Rates for live-in nannies are 2,500 credits a month," she said. "You want to pay for two or three?"

Wolffe's jaw dropped. Where was he going to get that many credits before tomorrow? This was way more expensive than he thought it was going to be. He hadn't counted, but he probably only had about 500 credits to his name. He could ask around the battalion, but credits were sparse among the clones and to ask his men to fund a nanny for his daughter sounded dumb. He'd have to find another way–some way. Once deployed, he could scavenge up more credits for the next time he needed the nanny. He'd never drink again, but it was a small price.

"Two months, and if I'm gone longer, I'll have it transferred," Wolffe said.

"Perfect," she said, then gave the data-pad back to Wolffe with a stylus. "Sign at the bottom."

Wolffe signed the agreement and gave the data-pad and stylus back to the woman.

The woman's comm dinged and she read the message. "Good news, Mr. Wolffe. I have your nanny. She'll be here tomorrow morning. Your payment is due then."

"Thank you," Wolffe said, and he turned to leave. Now he only had one thing to focus on, where he was going to get 5,000 credits before the morning.

Part 1 || Prev | Next

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[sparrow-in-the-field]

I haven't shared any random Bobby/Don ideas lately and I'm procrastinating working at my job rn I have several for "Don away at/immediately after the war" that I'm not convinced I'll ever write into a full fic because I have a weak heart (cries, do not separate them!).

I figured I might as well share them here, since otherwise they may never see the light of day (that being said, maybe if y'all like them enough, I can be convinced 👀).

Anyway here we go, my Bobby/Don war times head cannons:

Before Don leaves, Bobby gives him a ring to wear. He had his father make a pair, with "Moch" and "Hume" engraved on the inside. Bobby keeps the Hume one and gives Don the Moch one. He asks Don to wear it on his ring finger and claim to be married while he's away.

They write letters to each other obviously, and Bobby always just signs his as "B.", so the content can still be lovey/candid and Don can claim the letters are from a girl with a B name if needed.

Because I am weak of the heart, even in my head cannons, I imagine Don doesn't really see much of the actual war front because his engineering skills are what is put to use (I think that was a thing irl?). He has mixed feelings about this, some guilt, some frustration that he's essentially just doing his same job but forced to do it far away from home/Bobby. Bobby is grateful that Don isn't facing any danger, even if he realizes it's selfish.

Similarly, Don very selfishly is glad that Bobby couldn't join the army because of his health issues.

Bobby relies on friends a lot for support while Don is away. Joyce of course, because it's me, but also some of the other guys who couldn't enlist. They all know about Bobby and Don's relationship at this point.

I have an idea that is pretty much the closest to an actual fic plot of Don figuring out that another guy in his unit is gay and they befriend each other. It would include letters between Don and Bobby of them talking about it discretely.

Now, when Don returns when the war is over, nsfw but I imagine the two of them just fucking ravish each other. Like Bobby at one point is like "you better not expect to leave this house, this bed, for at least 3 days."

Related to above but the bullet was getting to long: They keep swapping between really hot/horny "meaningless" sex and super emotional lovemaking. They figure out early on that they have to decide/tell each other which it's gonna be so they're both on the same page lol.

After the war they still wear the rings :') maybe they have to switch them to the middle finger or right hand instead, since they live together and clearly not with wives, but still, they know what the rings mean.

I think that's it! Sorry for any heartache if you're like me and thinking about it for too long makes your heart hurt 🙏 knowing me, even if I ever wrote it I'd somehow manage to turn it into fluff lol.

[emeryhall]

Ten Questions for Writers

Thank you @artsyunderstudy @messofthejess and @roomwithanopenfire for the tags!

How many works do you have on AO3? 12

What’s your total AO3 word count? 393,555 (and I only started writing in March 2023!)

What fandoms do you write for? Carry On and Harry Potter (specifically wolfstar)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Hell fucking yes. Comments are my bread and butter. I love hearing people's thoughts on chapters; sometimes they even influence choices I make in the story (see @thewholelemon's Bleak House/spontaneous combustion suggestion in ALBD). I feel like if readers are taking the time to leave comments, I need to take the time to respond. That's what builds community, and community may be the most important aspect of fandom.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? no

Have you ever co-written a fic before? YES! I see most people are answering "no" to this question and I want to encourage y'all to try it! @hihimissamericanbi and I co-wrote our little Drarry baby PWP, show me how you like it. Apart from the fact that kudos-wise it is the most popular thing I've written and my only fic to have over 10K hits, it was really fun to write together, and I think Celine and I got to know each other better in the process. We beta-ed each other's sections, and I know she improved mine. So yeah, the next time your mutual posts "I think I might write some Drarry smut," you should always respond with, "I've got this idea that involves a Pensieve."

What’s your all-time favourite ship? snowbaz or wolfstar (sorry! don't make me Sophie's Choice this)

What are your writing strengths? comedy, smut (or as I like to see it, not smut for smut's sake, but smut as a driving factor in the plot and emotional development of the characters), dialogue, action sequences, plot development, descriptive language, unique and sometimes bizarre concepts

What are your writing weaknesses? I would like to continue improving my plots. Honestly, I think I might step out of fandom for a moment and write my own characters because I think it's so easy (and necessary) to shorthand characterization and character development in fanfic. I'd like to force myself to begin a character from the ground up, so I'm not relying on readers being already invested in them.

First fandom you wrote for? Harry Potter/wolfstar

Tagging: @bookish-bogwitch @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @cutestkilla @thewholelemon @hihimissamericanbi

@monbons @mooncello @shrekgogurt @orange-peony @larkral

[starcursedluvrs]

doomsday teaser

actor!gojo x techie!geto AU :)

hey y'all! thank you for all the love on Talk, I really appreciate every single like, comment, and reblog. i've started part II, and it should be out within 2 or 3 weeks (i'm a busy lady sorry). in a mean time, here's a little bite of another fic i wrote/am still working on. it's a techie!geto x actor!gojo AU where suguru is a wardrobe crew head for a hit broadway musical, and satoru is the star. this one is for all the former (and current) theater kids (kids as in people above the age of 18, MDNI!). there will be lots of smut and angst and plot to come, but for now, plz enjoy <3

wc: 845

With that, Suguru took a deep sigh and finished walking down the narrow hallway. His shoes squeaked considerably less as he climbed the winding iron staircase up to the cast’s personal dressing rooms. When he got to the top, he was distracted by a white-haired man violently shaking the vending machines in an attempt to release a chocolate bar from its clutches.  

Then he saw those eyes. 

Those beautiful, bright blue eyes. They looked like they contained the entire sky.

Suguru started sorting through color theory in his head to think about which piece of fabric would go best with those brilliant irises. 

“Do, uh. Do you need some help there, doll?” Suguru offered, flustered. 

The man just stared back at Suguru for a moment, before responding, “Sure, crazy bangs. That would be great.” 

“Not sure crazy bangs is such a great comeback from someone who’s attacking a vending machine,” Suguru bantered back. 

“Hey, it’s not my fault my boss man loves chocolate. Gotta stock up for him.”

“Oh, are you Mr. Gojo’s manager?”

“Never thought about it like that. Huh. Guess I am.” 

“Will I see you around then?”

“I guess you could say that, crazy bangs,” the white-haired man said with a smirk. 

A tense moment passed as the two men locked eyes. The mysterious blue-eyed beauty scanned Suguru’s body up and down with no shame. Suguru should have felt self-conscious, but he found himself oddly endeared by the man in front of him. Suguru felt a slight blush prickle over the skin of his cheeks.  

“So when is Mr. Gojo arriving?” Suguru asserted to break the silence. “I have some things I wanted to run over with him in terms of quick changes.” 

“So. You’re costumes?” 

“Yeah.” Suguru answered. Did he say the wrong thing? 

“Makes sense.” The lengthy white haired man smirked and turned on the ball of his foot and started walking - no, sashaying - to the door of Mr. Gojo’s dressing room. As the man opened the door, Suguru caught it behind him. 

“Why does it make sense, doll?” Suguru allowed a soft smile to appear on his lips. For the first time in a while, Suguru was flirting. 

And he was having fun. 

“Because. You’re so serious. You costume and props people always have sticks up your asses.” The man retorted with a snort. 

Suguru rolled his eyes, a verbal bite lingering on his words, “We’re just trying to do our jobs.” 

Even though the blue-eyed stranger was  taller, Suguru seemed to tower over him at that moment. 

“Well, I’m just trying to do mine.” Suguru couldn’t tell if this guy was a douche or if he was also flirting back. He hoped for his sake, it was the ladder. Unfortunately, he also had a job to do. No matter, he still had time to get to know this attractive stranger.

“Great. So, do you have an ETA on your client?” 

“Client? What client?” The man looked so confused. 

“…Mr. Gojo…” 

“Oh, we’re still playing that game.” 

“What game?” 

“You seriously don’t know who I am?” 

“You’re Mr. Gojo’s manager.” Suguru stated. 

The white haired man burst into a fit of hysterical laughter. It took a second for him to collect himself.

“Hot and funny. I’m keeping you around, crazy bangs.”

Suguru’s brain short circuited at that. Attractive stranger also finds him attractive. Noted.

“Haha,” Suguru offered a weak, uncomfortable laugh,”Not that I wouldn’t want that too, but I really have a job to do, doll.” 

Those blue eyes blinked in disbelief. 

“Wow. You’re serious, ok. Let’s start over.”

The man stuck out his hand, which looked as if it was crafted of the finest porcelain.

“I’m Satoru Gojo. It’s nice to meet you, what’s your name?”

Suguru looked at Satoru until it finally clicked in his head. So this was the brat Nanami was talking about. 

Suguru shook his hand hesitantly, as another question crossed his mind. “You said you were Gojo’s manager though,” Suguru pointed out.

“You’re putting words in my mouth, I said I had never thought of it that way. I guess I am kind of like my own manager because I don’t have one. I manage myself, thank you very much,” Satoru turned his nose and dramatically looked away from Suguru.

“But… who’s boss man?” 

“Oh that’s what I call Nanami. I asked him what his favorite candy was and I’m stocking up on it so that every time I annoy him, I can apologize with a chocolate bar.” 

A deep rumble left Suguru’s chest as he laughed at Satoru’s comment.

“I’m sure Nanami loves being called boss man.” 

“Oh please, he’ll grow into the nickname. Didn’t get your name yet though, crazy bangs.”

“Suguru Geto. Wardrobe Crew Head.” 

“If I see you around later, maybe I can show you how it feels to have something other than a stick up your ass.”

Banners by @bunnysrph

[eightringsofsaturn]

Private access road

By: Dogteethkakashi

Link to fic if y'all want to check it out:) https://archiveofourown.org/works/50749981

(P.s. I'm sorry that this is late, I wrote it up yesterday and then forgot to hit post)

Yet another absolute banger from the lovely Dogteethkakashi. Dear god where to begin!! I can't really even believe that they've never read the manga or watched the anime, like holy crap, the way they write Zoro (or any character really) is so spot on I can't even-

Also, absolutely living for independent Zoro, especially in highschool au! I love the way you write slow burn for Zoro and luffy, like every time I read one of their fics it's time to play another round of everyone's favorite game, let's see how long it takes Zoro to figure out that he and Luffy are dating, while everyone else already knows, it honestly has to be one of the best games. Another thing I especially like the way that the main plot points and character introductions translate over to a modern au!! This is probably one of my most visited fics (along with Spill Your Wine by Furthest_city_lights)

(Honestly though, I really love everything they write and I highly recommend checking them out!! They can be found on AO3)

[rickie-the-storyteller]

Steph's Crew - Book 3 Summary

I was meant to post this last year to sort of close the Steph-related content and focus more on other projects. Actually, I was meant to post a lot of things last year...

Bretanie analysis (on here)

Season 1 of AU (on my second blog)

Jekyll and Hyde, but in the modern world (I've been working on that for fun on the side, and I've decided to post the full story on Wattpad)

Revealing the identity of the secret blogger (I'll probably do it in this post, since it is relevant to this part of the story as well)

I've been so busy, y'all. Sorry for the delays.

I just want to make sure I have time to do everything as best as I possibly can, so you can enjoy it. I think it was less pressure posting the Steph's Crew dialogues and snippets because they were old pieces of work, and since the time I first wrote them, I've neatened it up and made it considerably better than it was... I know that the stuff I've shared isn't the final product, so I don't feel the urge to make it perfect. At least not to the extent that I do with all these other projects lol.

Hopefully this can help make up for lost time. I'll get to the other posts mentioned on that list as soon as possible, but until then... here's a summary of the third and final instalment of Steph's Crew!

Enjoy!

Keep in mind that I'm still working on this one. It isn't finished yet, but I wanted to give you guys a rough idea of how it goes. And prepare for this, because it's pretty unhinged lol. I collaborated with my sister on some of the wackier ideas...

Book 3 is titled "Story of a Broken Thing." It picks up where Book 2 ends off, more or less (or at least, it fills us in on what went down since the end of Book 2). If you can't remember how UVC ended, then here's a link to that summary:

But to put it briefly, the crew have successfully solved the mystery, Brelise have split up again, Bret's gone on tour with his band, Dalice are together, Bephanie is over, and Stephanie got arrested... but then escaped from holding. Nobody knows where she could have gone.

Which leads us to Book 3. It is set a couple of years later (I think about 5 years after Book 2 ended), and a lot of stuff has happened in all that time...

Dylan and Alice have broken up. Wasn't meant to be, I guess. But don't worry - they're still friends, and there's no bad blood between them or anything.

Victor and Jen have unfortunately split up as well, leading to Jen moving back to Texas. Alice decides to go with her. She's doing alright - currently taking some classes at a local college, and helping out at her old dance studio in her spare time. She's also still making YouTube videos.

Bret's band is still doing well. They're not touring anymore at the moment, but they are super busy recording a new album, and filming music videos. Plus, they have been asked to perform at the Jingle Bell Ball towards the end of the year, which is very exciting. Even though he has moved back to the UK, because of the nature of Bret's job, he can't just stay in London with his aunt anymore like how he used to... but he still comes to visit her as often as possible. And he and Elise are still close friends, so that's cool. He's been seeing other people over the past couple of years, though.

Elise and Charlie are together. She decided to give him a chance. They're really happy together and they seem to have a pretty healthy, solid relationship for the most part (they've been together for two years straight by the time Book 3 has started). Charlie still harbours some degree of jealousy/wariness towards Bret, though, since she's still really good friends with him. He's never once brought it up to her, though. But it becomes a big deal in this part of the story... more on that later.

Ben isn't really in this part of the story... at least not until towards the end, when Stephanie randomly decides to call him for some reason. But he's doing fine. Moved back to his cooking job from Book 1 lol. It was good money, and now he doesn't have another person to share it with! Wait, that sad-

And by now, Dylan, Connor (who has finally moved on from Daisy! Thank God), Elise and Charlie have all finished their university courses. Yay!

In fact, this is what kickstarts the plot. Dylan's family (we get to see them again in this one! Specifically his mother, her new husband and his younger brother Sam. I feel like we didn't get enough of them last time) is very proud of him for finishing such a long, tough course (3 years, + 1 foundation year + 1 year of masters), and they decide to reward him with an epic summer trip to Australia. And it is during this holiday that he sees Steph again (she's not in Australia btw - he sees her when he goes with a family friend to the Samoan islands).

She fills him in on how she got there. I haven't neatly worked this part out... but basically, Reggie helped her leave the country (idk whether to make him a villain or some kind of loose cannon/antihero type of guy. Like, he's awful most of the time, but he's also one of Stephanie's oldest friends, and he can be genuinely nice when he wants to be. Especially to her. He needs to be in trouble tho lol. I think the thing about him is that he gets away with his awful behaviour easily, whereas Stephanie is kind of forced to be held accountable, even if she actively runs away from the consequences of her actions sometimes...)

After that, she was stuck on her own again for a while and needed a job. So she applied for a job at a local Natia hotel (Natia is a famous line of hotels... kind of like Hilton, to give a known real-life example). She didn't have enough money for a cab or bus, so she had to walk the whole way there through heavy rain. By the time she got there, she looked terrible lol. But when she arrived, she bumped into a handsome young man who kindly helped her out. He got her a room and some clothes to change into, which helped in making a good first impression and whatnot. She got the job!

Later, she found out that the guy's name was Jordan Natia. The son of the hotel line founder (he also owns the hotel she got a job at). She thanks him for her help, and he invites her for dinner... and the rest is history.

And by history, I mean she ends up marrying him lol. Dylan finds out that she now lives at the resort that he and his family friend are currently staying at. She also has a baby daughter named Mia (short for Miranda. Not suspicious at all). She loves her life so much right now. She's always prided herself on being a strong independent woman who can take care of herself, but she's surprised at how much she's enjoying being a stay-at-home mother and housewife lol. She loves spending time with her baby, and she loves her husband a lot, too. He takes good care of her. However, similar to Ben, he doesn't really know all that much about her (Jordan goes through a similar arc to Ben's in Book 2, where he finds out the truth about Stephanie, and it changes the way he sees her. Minus the cheating lol).

Dylan is shocked at how much Steph has changed since the last time he saw her, but he's happy for her at the same time. He can see that she's genuinely happy and seemingly at peace, which is great.

Meanwhile, back in the UK, Charlie has decided to propose to El. He's taking it VERY seriously - even asked for her family's blessing and everything. They all said yes... even Adam lol (he's grown to like Charles by now). One summer evening, he pops the question (in a truly beautiful and romantic way btw), and Elise says yes in the moment, but she doesn't know if she truly feels ready for marriage yet. Something about the situation feels wrong to her, but she doesn't know what it is. However, instead of communicating her mixed feelings to her now fiance, she decides to distract herself with hangouts with her family and friends, as well as getting into her work and other hobbies, preferring to think about anything other than her problems (man, does THIS sound familiar lol). Charlie starts noticing a change in El's behaviour and it begins to really upset him (especially since Bret is one of the people she starts spending more time with, and we all know how she feels about him), causing more strain in their relationship. It only gets worse when they find out about Stephanie's whereabouts...

Dylan messages the others about his trip everyday through a group chat. One night he reveals that he's reunited with an old friend of theirs and sends a picture of him and Stephanie hanging out. The others are shocked. Elise especially.

The situation started becoming somewhat of a controversy in the news... people started talking about it more online, many blogs and news websites (including The Looking Glass) started covering it. Alice made a video on YouTube talking about it (and it came from the unique angle of her knowing the person from school and being their friend and everything. She didn't mention Steph by name, though). It blew her channel up.

The story of Stephanie's escape was quickly resurfacing back into people's minds after being forgotten for such a long time. And this wasn't good for Steph lol. Especially after finally making a life for herself that she was genuinely truly happy in.

But that's not the end of the story.

I'll tell you the rest in part 2 of this summary!