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g0r3wh0rre · 1 day ago

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ROMANTICISM HANDLED WITH DISCIPLINE ── 박성훈

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

⧼ 📜 ⧽ 一 pairing༚ ⸝⸝⸝ professor!park sunghoon ✗ student!fem!reader includes ༚ ༚ ༚ jungwon, jay and jake of enhypen, giselle and karina of aespa

genre ༚ ༚ ༚ smut, fluff, porn with plot

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

[notes.] a rewrite of a rewrite of one of the first ever fics i've ever written! this fic was originally written for soobin of txt, but i took that one down when i decided to discontinue writing for that group. but thanks to my lovely mutuals, they asked (demanded) that i rewrite it for hoon <3 this is a romanticization of student/teacher relationships where both parties are consenting adults, but it is important to note that these relationships can be problematic in real life due to one parties authority over another's and unstable power dynamics. banner done by my beloved mootie @heechwe! reblogs and feedback are very appreciated <3 i hope you enjoy!

YOUR FRENCH LITERATURE professor embodies everything you find detestable in a teacher. His classes are a monotonous drone of information, devoid of anything exciting or engaging, though that might not be entirely his fault with how painfully, mind numbingly boring the subject he teaches is. He rarely ever deviates from his tight-lipped script, and he absolutely refuses to entertain any questions or foster any interesting discussion. He never accepted late assignments or gave any extensions, his tests are ridiculously hard, and he’ll dock points off your assignments for the tiniest, stupidest reasons. Sure, it’s a difficult course, and it’s important to your major, but you swear he seems to take some kind of pleasure in making his students miserable. Each class feels like an eternity, and often you find yourself counting down the minutes until you can escape the insufferable, suffocating atmosphere of his classroom.

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

Maybe it was because you spent your time in his class focusing more on him than any of the words that came out of his mouth. His irritatingly handsome, angular face and his pouty, kissable lips, the moles on his cheeks framing his tall nose. The way his thick brow furrows and his lip curls when one of your classmates asks a question that he deems too stupid to grace with an answer. His big veiny hands and how they look shuffling papers and twirling pens, filling your head with thoughts of how they would look caressing your body. His tall, fit frame and how he towers over you whenever you come up to him, the way he has to lower his head to look you in the eye, a soldering heat bubbling in your belly from the way he makes you feel so small. You can’t stand to be his student, but you dream at night about being something else to him entirely— it’s a paradox that drives you to detrimental distraction. How can you be so obsessed with someone you loathe? His perplexing combination of qualities was like some kind of mystery you felt compelled to unravel, at the very least to put your own mind at ease.

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

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

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

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

"Miss L/N, what are you doing?”

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

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

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

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

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

Professor Park's lips pull into a thin line, his magnified eyes raking over your sweating face before trailing down to your bag, clasped protectively over your lap.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whoa, what’s up with you?” your friend Jungwon asks when you walk by him in the hall, looking up from his phone and tugging out his earbuds to cock his head in your direction. “You look live you’ve seen a ghost or something.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Professor!” you yelp.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Professor, please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, sir.”

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

“Yes, sir.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.” you reply honestly.

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s… it’s about Professor Park.”

“You and Gigi's lit professor?” Karina asks, cocking her head. “Isn’t he the one you have a massive crush on?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Karina and Giselle stare at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Something odd flashes in Professor Park's eyes and he jerks his head to shoot his friend a deathly glare. He was far too tipsy to notice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Apologize?” Professor Park's friend— Jake, you think— butts in, raising an eyebrow. “What happened?”

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

“Wait, Professor—!”

“Have a good night!”

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

“Are you okay?”

“Did you get lost or something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh. Um… alright.” He finally says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Professor—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“T-three!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You cant help but giggle at him.

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

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

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

“Will you give me that TA position then?”

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

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

“I know I won’t.”

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #sunghoon smut #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon hard thoughts #sunghoon fanfic #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic

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mattsstarlet · 2 days ago

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fully introducing… dilf!brat tamer!chris and soft!brat!reader.

contains: smut (fingering, p in v), unprotected sex (creampie), rough sex, dom!chris, orgasm denial, slight degradation (?), pet names.

note: thank you for 1k :3 love u guys <33

you huffed for what would’ve been the tenth time that night; you crossed your arms but immediately put them down as soon as chris’ low, stern voice spoke into your ear. “be a good girl, doll; you’re gettin’ on my last nerve.”

it was a warning, something that should’ve gotten you to behave. though you couldn’t help but ignite the cheeky girl in you as his tongue poked the inside of his cheek, trying to remain calm. you loved testing his patience, getting him to his breaking point. deep inside, chris knew that, but oh, how he loved taking the last laugh.

“but i want to go home,” you pouted, tugging on his jacket as he scanned his surroundings, checking to see if anyone was watching you throw a fit. he was furious, to say the least; you had been acting up the second the two of you arrived at a party he was invited to. he was rooting for having a good time, then if you were good, he was going to reward his pretty doll afterwards.

“please? this place is so boring and m'getting cold.” you whined, giving him your best puppy eyes. however, chris was completely over it; all he wanted to do was get home and use his toy. “you wanna go home, dollie?”

your face perked up, a giant smile tugging at your lips. you won. or so that's what you think. “yes. i want to go home now.” you said confidently, chris couldn't help but bite down his smirk. “yeah? get y’ass in the car and wait for me; i’m gonna go say ‘bye’ then.”

you squealed as chris’ hand came in contact with your bare ass, your skirt hiked up to your waist—not even daring to take your clothes off. he had you on his bed, face down, ass up, as he stood behind you, his hand finger-fucking your swollen cunt.

“do you think you deserve my cock or to cum after whinin’ in my ear all night? huh?” he roughly asked, his fingers curling inside you, making your own toes curl. he had denied you two orgasms already, making you desperate and sticky. you shook your head, whimpering as yet another knot forms in your stomach.

chris removes his hand from your ass cheek and to your hair, gripping it to give you a nice, harsh tug. “i’m fuckin’ talkin’ to you, mama. y’going speechless on me all of a sudden?”

“n-no,” you blurted out, your eyes leaking rain on the wrinkled sheets as your thighs shook. you were on the edge, about to cum, when chris took his fingers out of your sloppy heat once again.

he chuckled hearing your desperate sobs, “no, what, toy? use your fuckin’ brain and talk right.”

you whimpered, your hole clenching around nothing as your orgasm fades away. “n-no, i don’t deserve to cum… or your cock.” you cried, your tears staining your flushed face, ruining your makeup. you looked like a fucking wreck, but chris always thought you looked best in tears.

“say you’re sorry and that you won’t throw a fit when i'm with friends.” he demanded, his fingers running through your puffy folds. both his ring and middle fingers drew circles onto your clit, making you jump up from the stimulation.

you gasped, pulling the sheets to get a firm grip. “won’t do it again. m'sorry, baby, please.” you begged, no longer feeling his touch anymore. you squirmed, wiggling your ass in the air as you heard a soft thud—his jeans falling onto the floor. you almost lifted your head to look, but you knew your chances of getting a release weren’t guaranteed.

chris stroked his dick, coating himself with the remainder of your arousal on his hand. he thought about leaving you like this, needy and messy with your slick folds. though, he couldn't do that, not when he wanted to give you a deep fixing.

without a warning, chris plunged his cock into your pussy, holding you down by the back of your neck with his hand. “yeah? not gonna do it again right, mama? y'gonna behave like the pretty doll you are?” he groaned, hearing the wet noises your heat was making against his dick.

“uh-huh,” you breathed out; it was all too much for your brain—your eyes were droopy, and muffled sobs, along with saliva, left your lips as his hips snapped against yours. chris’ nails dug deep into your skin, leaving crescent moon marks.

chris groaned; your gummy walls gripped onto his angry length each time his hips pulled away. his hand on your hair pulled you back against his chest, nuzzling his face into your neck. “wakey, wakey, dollie,” he cooed, licking a strip up to your earlobe, tugging it with his teeth.

“did you learn your lesson now, baby? hmm?" he smirked, his free hand snaked around your tummy, feeling himself each time he thrusted. “or do i need to deny you another orgasm?”

“no, chris, please no. i’ll be a good girl, i promise.” you whined, your hand looped under his arm, gripping onto his bicep as if your life depended on it.

he placed a kiss onto your neck, his low voice whispering into your ear, “yeah? go ahead and cum on my cock, then, ma. show me what a good girl you can be.”

your own nails dug into his skin as a loud moan escaped your lips—finally getting the release your pussy ached for. your tummy clenched as he continued to fuck you, aiming for his orgasm. your mouth hung low; noises that came out sounded almost like screams. your mind and body felt too overwhelmed, as his load spurted deep.

“fuck,” you fell forward; your body felt weak and tired. your eyes fluttered shut, almost snoozing off till you felt a light shake followed by a kiss onto your cheek.

“good girl, doll. all good? yeah?” he smiled softly as he watched you nod, rubbing your back to provide ease and comfort. “head up, dollie. gotta clean you up and put you in pjs first.”

for @marrykisskilled , my argentina baby

#𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐬𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐭© ˚ ༘ ೀ #౨ৎ brat tamer!chris x brat!reader prompts ౨ৎ #brat tamer!chris ᯓ★#brat!reader ᯓ★#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets #sturn tumblr #sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets x you #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut

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ur-sick-and-married · 3 days ago

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JUST NEED A LITTLE LOVE • ABBY ANDERSON

CONTENTS: afab/female reader, mentions of blood, business woman Abby!

SUMMARY: Abby takes care of you when you have your period.

A/N: I’m supposed to get my period soon so obviously I’m gonna write an Abby Anderson one shot inspired by it.

Abby got home to a silent apartment. This was very unusual. Normally, you were practically tackling her, going on and on about how much you missed her. So the silence was…unsettling.

“Babe?” She called out, leaving her messenger style bag on the kitchen counter.

She peeked in the living room, but you weren’t there. She quickly made her way to the bedroom. She was getting nervous.

“Babe…?” She repeated when she saw a lump in the big bed, which is how you had spent most of your day.

You pretended to be asleep. You didn’t want to talk. What you really wanted was a damn hysterectomy. Your stomach had been aching all day, and no matter what painkiller you took, yoga pose you did, how much water you drank…the cramps wouldn’t go away.

You heard Abby moving around. The closet door opened. You knew it was because she had taken her work shoes off when you stopped hearing the clicking of the heel.

You felt the mattress shifting, and then she was behind you, a hand on your head.

“I know you’re awake…” She whispered while playing with your hair. “You’re too tense to be asleep.”

“How was work?” You asked quietly, giving up on faking sleep.

“Fine.” She responded, focused on you. “What’s wrong?”

“Just don’t feel great…”

Her grip on you tightened with worry. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s my period.” You muttered.

She immediately understood what you were feeling. She hugged you tightly, her face buried in your hair.

“Aw, I’m sorry…” She sighed. “I know it’s really fucking annoying. Cramps?”

You nodded, groaning softly. “They’re so bad, Abs…no matter what I do, it still hurts like a bitch.”

She kissed your head a few times, as if that would soothe the pain in your middle.

“Don’t worry, I’m here to take care of you now.” She promised.

She tugged off her work shirt and pants, leaving her in just a bra and underwear. She lifted the sheets to slip in beside you, but paused.

“You’ve been lying here for a while, huh?” She said quietly.

“I guess…” You answered, a little ashamed to admit it. “Why?”

“You bled through…”

Sure enough, there was a stain on the sheets, and your legs.

“Dammit!” You moaned. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart!” She said quickly. “Let’s get you in the shower.”

She easily picked you up, and carried you into the bathroom. She turned on the shower, making sure it was warming up.

“You get in there, and I’ll join you in a few minutes.” She told you.

“Okay.” You agreed.

She left you alone to get undressed. The hot shower felt amazing against your aching muscles. You rinsed yourself off, not wanting to be messy when Abby eventually got in.

Abby stripped the bed, and tossed the sheets in the laundry. Then she came back to the bathroom, where she got in the shower with you.

“Don’t worry about the mess.” She said softly. “It’s taken care of.”

“Thank you…” You sighed.

“Of course…anything for you.” She smiled. “Now let’s focus on getting you taken care of.”

She got your favorite body wash and a cloth, and started to wash your body. She let you lean on her as she did so. The pain in your stomach radiated to your legs, making standing uncomfortable. She had a strong hold on you, though. She wasn’t gonna let you fall.

“I got ya…” She murmured a few times, reassuring you.

Once your skin was squeaky clean, she got out some face wash, and started massaging your temples. Her hands slid down your face, and she squished your cheeks, making you laugh.

“Abby…” You giggled softly.

“There’s that smile.” She grinned. “You’re so gorgeous, baby…even when you’re on your period. It doesn’t bother me at all. I get it too. You know it doesn’t bother me, right?”

“I’m starting to get that, yeah.” You teased.

You two finished up in the shower, then Abby wrapped you both in fluffy towels. She went to get pajamas to give you a minute of privacy in the bathroom.

“Here…” She handed you some comfy clothes when she came back. “I thought you might want to wear one of my shirts.”

She had gotten you some pajama shorts, and a top of hers, some ratty old t-shirt that was insanely comfortable.

You both got dressed. You were feeling a bit better. The hot shower helped relieve some of your aches and pains, but not completely.

“You hungry, angel?” Abby asked, pulling you into her arms.

“Maybe a little.” You answered.

“You’re probably not super into eating right now…” She said. “But it might help you feel better. I’ll make you anything you want.”

You thought hard for a second, trying to figure out what you could possibly eat. Nothing sounded appealing.

“We could order from that place down the street…” She hummed.

That immediately got your attention. It was your favorite place for takeout. Just the thought of it almost made your stomach growl for the first time all day.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Abby laughed when she saw your eyes light up. “You wanna order when I make the bed?”

She went to get new sheets then started making the bed, while you put in your order for food. Once the bed was finished, Abby tucked you back in, making sure you were comfy.

“How are the cramps?”

“Still there…” You sighed.

She laid beside you, like she had before. Her hand slipped under the blankets. “Is it okay if I rub your stomach?”

You nodded. She carefully started massaging your stomach, right where the cramps were the worst. The warmth of her hands quickly helped ease the pain.

“I’ll do this until the food gets here.” She murmured. “Then we’ll eat and you can take some pain medication. I don’t want you taking it on an empty stomach.”

“Thank you, Abs…” You whispered. “For everything.”

“You’re welcome, baby,” She smiled. “But what else was I gonna do? Leave you all alone while in pain. No way, princess…you just need a little love.”

#abby anderson the last of us 2 #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby anderson #abby x fem!reader #abby x you #the last of us x reader #wlw imagine #wlw community #ursickandmarriedstories

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persevereforahappyending · 3 days ago

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A Legacies Regret |8|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You were living in New York with your girlfriend, trying to forget about last year and just enjoy life, but that was easier said than done. (Sequel to A Legacies Secret)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.8k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | A Legacies Secret Masterlist

Tara stood at the back of an ambulance as you got checked over. You didn’t seem in too bad of shape, you actually managed to not get stabbed this time. Tara crossed her arms as she waited for you, they were surrounded by cops and ambulances, this was where she should feel the safest but given that she didn’t know who she could trust she wasn’t awarded that comfort.

Her eyes darted back and forth from Sam off to the side talking to Danny, to Chad next to the ambulance Mindy was getting patched up in. Anika had been there in her own ambulance, but the medics decided her wounds were too severe and rushed her off to the hospital. Tara wanted to think that Anika would be safe in the hospital, away from all the craziness, but she knew better than anyone that just because someone was in the hospital didn’t mean they were safe.

Tara’s attention fully snapped back to you when she overheard you thanking the medic. You slipped off the gurney and hopped out the back of the ambulance. Tara made sure to raise her hands when you landed, she didn’t know exactly what happened in the apartment, but it was clear you were hurting.

Tara wrapped an arm around your waist, partly because she wanted to help you keep more weight than necessary off your knee, but mostly because she didn’t want to let you go. Back in the apartment you didn’t even hesitate to push her behind you and towards the door, the first thing that crossed your mind in a moment of crisis wasn’t your own safety but hers. She loved that about you, she truly did, but she really needed to have a talk with you about putting yourself in danger. Tara knows you want to protect her, but she needed to put her foot down, if you were going to be all heroic and self-sacrificing then she was going to be by your side.

The two of you had only walked a few steps when Tara noticed just how much you were limping. She could feel the muscles in your back tensing up with every step. “Are you okay?” she asked. “What happened up there?”

You slowed to a stop, wincing one more time before leaning into her. You looked around as if you were afraid someone was going to overhear whatever it was you had to say. “When I tried to stop him from getting Anika, he kicked me in my knee,” you whispered, your lips brushing against her ear so only she could hear.

Tara furrowed her brow. A whole new rage was burning inside her, she couldn’t believe Ghostface did that. Well, she could, but that didn’t change the fact that if she ever got her hands on him, she would tear him apart. She looked up when she realized you were looking at her expectantly. She had a feeling she missed the point of what you said for some reason, but she wasn’t exactly sure what her takeaway was supposed to be.

“He knew I was injured,” you whispered. Tara mentally slapped herself, not many people knew about your injury, that you still struggled with it so much. That meant Ghostface was either stalking all of them and saw you or he was in the friend group and paid much more attention to everyone than anyone thought.

“Who do you think it was?” Tara asked. She herself didn’t have any ideas, everyone, besides you and Sam, was a suspect. You experienced Ghostface up close though, to close for comfort if someone were to ask Tara. If you fought him, if you got close enough then there was a chance you felt something, something to determine if he was in fact a he, or if you picked up on something like the way he moved or talked.

You opened your mouth to answer but your head snapped up just as Tara whipped around at the sound of a loud bang. Tara released a breath; it had just been Chad slamming Ethan against one of the vans. She should probably be worried about Chad’s quick response to violence but given what was going on she couldn’t say she actually cared.

She couldn’t hear exactly what was being said but it was clear Chad was questioning Ethan and accusing him of potentially being Ghostface. Tara tilted her head, she never suspecting Ethan of anything, the only reason she hung out with him was because he was Chad’s roommate. He wasn’t the worst company by any means, she was just kind of quiet and awkward, sometimes he would have good taste in movies, otherwise he was just there. She couldn’t picture Ethan as some psycho killer, but then again there was a point in time she would have said the same thing about Amber.

Ethan weakly defended himself by saying he was in his night class. Tara honestly didn’t know if he was telling the truth, she didn’t know his schedule, she didn’t even know what his major was. Ethan was insistent in his denial, he even told Chad to ask the people from his class, which could speak of his innocence, or it spoke of how cocky he was. Night classes were rather popular, she didn’t know how big Ethan’s class was but there was a high chance that if Ethan skipped class no one would even notice.

Chad gave Ethan one final shove into the van before walking back over to Mindy. Tara’s eyes lingered on Ethan as he fixed his sweatshirt and looked around at the chaos as if he were a lost puppy. If he was Ghostface he sure was doing a good job at pretending to be clueless.

Your entire body tensed underneath Tara’s touch, making her furrow her brow at what could have possibly caused such a reaction. You weren’t looking at her though, you were looking straight ahead at something else. When Tara turned to see what you were looking at, she couldn’t contain her eyeroll as she saw Gale Weathers running up to the two of you.

“Are you okay?” Gale asked, looking at you with the most concern Tara had ever seen. “I came as soon as I heard.”

“Don’t you ever give it a rest?” Tara snapped.

“I’m not here to start anything. Truce,” Gale raised her hands in defense.

“Bullshit,” Sam said, coming up behind them. “What are you doing here?”

“I want to help.” Gale’s eyes darted to you. Tara wasn’t Gale’s biggest fan by any means, but she had a feeling wanting to help catch this Ghostface wasn’t the only reason Gale was there now. “Off the record,” Gale rolled her eyes.

Sam crossed her arms and shared a look with Tara. She still didn’t want to trust Gale, especially with how she’s treated you but Gale willing to help out off the record was definitely a start. “Fine,” Sam sighed, although a little reluctantly.

Gale looked at you, as if she were waiting for you to say something. You had yet to look Gale in the eye. Tara couldn’t even imagine what was going through your head. Besides recent selfish behavior she used to be able to read you better than anyone, when she opened her eyes, it seemed to be going back to that, except when it came to Gale. You already didn’t talk about Dewey but somehow you talked about Gale even less, Tara truly wasn’t sure where your mind was in regards to Gale.

“I see my present came in handy,” Gale said, giving an awkward smile as if it would help break the ice with you.

You still didn’t look at Gale as you lightly nodded. “Yeah,” you whispered. “Thanks for that.”

Tara looked from you to Gale and then back again. Her eyes widen as she came to the realization. “That’s where the gun game from?” she shouted.

Your mouth fell open, but nothing came out. Tara could practically see your brain spinning trying to come up with an answer. When you first came out of the apartment she didn’t notice the gun, she was too busy being relieved you were alive. When she did notice the gun, she didn’t get a chance to ask about it as you were being dragged to an ambulance. She knew Gale gave you a present, but you put it under the bed and that was that, she never even knew you opened let alone that it was a gun.

“The less people that knew about it the better,” Same said.

Tara slowly turned her head to her sister. “You knew?” she turned back to you, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes. “You told her and not me?”

You began opening and closing your mouth again. “I need to stay on her good side,” you defended weakly.

Tara just gave a small hum at the reveal. She knew that if you hadn’t told Sam and Sam later discovered it, she would have been pissed. She still couldn’t believe you never even told her though; it’s not like she would have told anyone; she knew how to keep a secret. That being said, Tara also couldn’t say you were wrong in keeping the gun a secret, no one else knowing was probably why you were able to catch Ghostface off guard. If the others had known she was sure you’d go for the case only to find it empty in your moment of need.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the group as Bailey walked up to everyone. He wiped his eyes from where he had been crying over his daughters’ body. “They took me off the case,” he said. “But that’s not going to stop me.” Tara had never seen such a rage burning behind someone’s eyes. “You fuck with my family, you die.”

“Hey,” Kirby greeted as she walked up to the group. Tara assumed she had to have just arrived because she hadn’t seen her before then.

“Kirby?” Gale asked, her eyes wide. Tara wasn’t sure how it was possible, but it seemed Gale hadn’t known Kirby was in town. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m in the FBI now,” Kirby smirked.

Gale rolled her eyes. “Then you’ll probably want to hear this too.” Tara scrunched her eyebrows together at what Gale could possibly want them all to hear. “It’s about the first victims; I found where the masks are coming from.”

Tara’s eyes widened. It was clear the masks Ghostface was leaving behind were the actual masks from the previous attacks. She didn’t know how anyone could possibly get their hands on those, but it seemed as though they had.

Tara barely listened as Gale went over everything. They were all going to go see what Gale discovered but Tara couldn’t take her mind off of you. She didn’t know where Gale was taking them or what they would find there, the only thing that Tara knew was that she didn’t intend to leave your side again.

Taglist: @mamas-evil-hag @thatshyboy1998 @btay3115 @idontliketoread2137 @nwestra

@honorarysimp @canyonyodeler @chxrryxcx @aceofspades190 @worstendingever

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem!reader #tara carpenter imagine #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #scream #scream 6 #scream vi #a legacies regret

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mittenkisses · 2 days ago

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hi! could i request a jade x reader where the reader is sort of insecure about their weight? like, theyve been gaining weight recently and arent sure how to deal with it. thank u !!

you gain weight

ft : jade

a/n : funny enough anon i've imagined this scenario a few times so i've got u

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ 🐚

though he doesn't judge looks, jade knows that you're beautiful. he's appalled that you'd even suggest you're anything less. it starts when he makes you a meal, he's always eager to feed you and show off his cooking, and you don't eat as much as you usually do. at first he thinks you're feeling sick, or the taste is off. he's quick to ask what's wrong. he's not expecting you to say that it's about your weight.

he doesn't see the issue with it. so you've gained a little weight, that doesn't change anything. if anything it means you're being fed properly! as long as you're still healthy, he doesn't think it's a problem at all; but it's upsetting you, and he'll be damned if he doesn't make you feel better. no one is allowed to talk down about his partner, not even the partner in question. ever the smooth-talker, he knows exactly what to say—you haven't changed at all, so why should it matter? gaining some weight doesn't make you any less beautiful. if he has to, he'll hold your waist and kiss you, reassuring you and telling you just how lovely you are.

of course, none of this will stop him from making you filling and nutritious meals all the time. if anything, it only encourages him. if it really, really bothers you that much, he could start making them a bit healthier, although he reminds you every time that it's really not necessary. he truly doesn't mind, though, as long as you're happy and healthy.

#kinda short sorry!! my mind is blank rn #ask.txt #fic.txt #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #twisted wonderland yume #twst yume #twisted wonderland yumeship #twst yumeship

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cressidagrey · 10 hours ago

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The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince - Chapter 14

Pairing: Lando Norris x Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton (Original Character)

Summary:

Elizabeth Treshton—bestselling romantasy author, queen of fae heartbreak, and sworn devotee of a carefully structured routine—never expected her service dog to abandon protocol and diagnose a Formula 1 driver with something. But that’s exactly what happens when Mara the wonder-dog ditches Lizzie’s side to aggressively alert to none other than Lando Norris in the middle of a coffee shop.

Warnings and Notes:

Mention of epilepsy and service animals. I don't myself suffer from epilepsy, so I asked my IRL friend, who thankfully was nice enough to let me ask her all the questions I could come up with. The rest I asked Reddit. So everything that's wrong...that's totally my fault and not on purpose. Also Discussion of toxic media/fandom/death threats.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Lizzie had expected the double date to be slightly awkward—meeting new people usually was—but she hadn’t anticipated this particular kind of tension.

Lily was too calm.

Too composed.

Too obviously holding something back.

It wasn’t anything dramatic. Just the way her eyes kept flickering toward Lizzie, how she took a slow sip of her drink every time she looked like she was about to say something, how she kept glancing at Oscar as if to say, Are we just pretending this isn’t happening?

Oscar looked exhausted already.

They hadn’t even ordered yet.

Lando, of course, noticed immediately. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “Alright,” he said, glancing between Lily and Oscar. “What’s going on?”

Lily took a deep breath, placed her hands on the table, and said, in the most carefully neutral voice imaginable, “I am not going to be weird about this.”

Lizzie raised an eyebrow. “Weird about what?”

Another deep breath.

Then Lily turned to her with a blindingly bright smile and said, “You are my favorite author, and I have read all your books, and I am totally fine about it.”

Lizzie was taken aback, unprepared for this sudden declaration of fandom from someone who had looked like she was about to say something entirely different.

"Um... thank you?" She replied, slightly bewildered.

Oscar groaned, shaking his head. "Lily, we talked about this."

“What?” she shot back. “I just had to say it out loud, or I was going to explode.”

Lando looked amused, a small smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "So you're a Lizzie Treshton fangirl, huh?"

Lily groaned. “Do not phrase it like that.”

Oscar leaned back in his chair. “She pre-ordered An Autumn of Fire and Stone six months early and took a day off work to read it.”

“Oscar.” Lily hissed, kicking him under the table.

Lando burst out laughing.

Lizzie, meanwhile, smiled. “That’s honestly really cool.”

Lily turned back to her, clearly trying to play it cool but still looking like she might combust. “I just—your books are so good. And your worldbuilding? Next level. And don’t even get me started on your character work—”

“Lily,” Oscar warned.

Lily exhaled through her nose. “Fine. I’ll stop.”

Lizzie laughed. “You don’t have to stop. I’m happy to talk books.”

Lily lit up. “Oh, thank god.”

Lando turned to Oscar, smirking. “Mate, your girlfriend is in love with my girlfriend.”

Oscar just sighed again. “I know.”

That kicked off the conversation properly.

The tension vanished as they delved into books. Lily's eyes lit up with excitement as she asked Lizzie about her publishing process, her inspiration, even how she chose character names.

Oscar and Lando just watched, occasionally chiming in to ask questions of their own, but mostly just amused and fascinated by the fervor of Lily's book-related interrogation.

Eventually, though, the conversation shifted.

“So, just to clarify,” Lily said, stirring her drink. “You’re a Ferrari fan?”

Lando groaned. “Lily—”

“What?” She smirked. “I just think it’s funny. Lando Norris is dating a Ferrari fan.”

Oscar grinned. “And her dog’s name is Maranello.”

Lily gasped. “Oh, that’s hilarious.”

Lizzie smothered her laughter as Lando groaned in mock agony. “You’re both going to tease me about this forever, aren’t you?”

Lily laughed, sipping her drink. “Oh, absolutely.”

Oscar patted him on the head. “Never gonna forget it, mate.”

Lando shot him a glare but couldn't hold back his own smile for long. "I don't know why I'm friends with either of you."

"Because you would be even more dull without us," Oscar replied

Lily nodded sagely. "And who else would keep your ego in check?"

Lando rolled his eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it.

*****

Lando had faced some tough crowds before—angry engineers, Zak Brown after a botched qualifying session, the entirety of Ferrari Twitter—but sitting at Lizzie’s family dinner table, preparing to tell them they were going public at Silverstone, was next level.

Tasha was watching him like a hawk, Aunt Lou was watching her wine with far too much interest, and Lizzie’s dad… well, he just looked unimpressed, but Lando had long since learned that was his default setting.

Lizzie, meanwhile, was completely unbothered. She was still picking at her food, like she hadn’t just convinced Lando that this was the right moment.

“Alright,” Aunt Lou finally said, tipping her glass toward him. “You look like a man about to say something important. Spit it out before Tasha combusts.”

Lando felt like a deer caught in the headlights. He swallowed hard, glancing around the table, unsure where to start.

Tasha looked ready to pounce, her gaze fixed on him with ruthless intensity. Aunt Lou sipped her wine with a smirk, clearly expecting drama. Lizzie’s dad just raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable as always.

Lando cleared his throat. “So… we’re going to Silverstone together.”

Silence.

Lizzie, because she was Lizzie, leaned in with a smirk. “And we’re making it public.”

More silence.

Then Tasha made an actual squeaking noise. “Finally!”

Aunt Lou, however, raised a single eyebrow. “And you’re both sure this is the right call?”

Lando nodded. “Yeah. We’ve talked about it a lot. It just—it feels like the right time.”

Lizzie’s dad exhaled slowly, setting his fork down. “It’s not going to be easy.”

Aunt Lou nodded solemnly. "The press will be all over it."

Tasha looked positively gleeful. "It's going to be a media circus."

“I know,” Lando admitted. “But I also know I love her and don’t want to hide it anymore.”

Lizzie squeezed his hand under the table, and Aunt Lou made a quiet humming noise, swirling her wine like she was debating whether to grill him further.

Tasha, on the other hand, was far more chaotic. “Okay, but the real question is—have you prepared for the internet’s meltdown? F1 Twitter and BookTok are about to go feral. It’s going to be a disaster.”

Lando groaned. “I know. I’ve accepted my fate.”

Lizzie just smirked. “At least we have an advantage.”

Aunt Lou raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Which is?”

Lizzie’s grin widened. “Mara.”

"Oh my God, they're going to have a field day with her," Tasha said, eyes wide. "F1 Twitter and BookTok are going to lose their minds over your dog."

Lando nodded. “She’s the best distraction for the media. Just let Mara loose, and they’ll forget all about me.”

Lizzie’s dad chuckled quietly, the first sign of amusement he’d shown since dinner started. “I can’t argue with that.”

Lando nodded sagely. “She’s the best distraction for the media. Just let Mara loose, and they’ll forget all about me.”

Lizzie’s dad chuckled, “I can’t argue with that.”

Aunt Lou finally cracked a smile. “Well. If nothing else, it’s going to be hilarious.”

Lando could only nod. Because, honestly? It really, really was.

Tasha laughed, raising her glass in a mock toast. "May the press have mercy on your souls."

Aunt Lou clinked her glass against Tasha’s, a smirk on her face. "Here’s hoping they don’t roast you too badly."

Still, there was something else on his mind: Lando had known this conversation was coming.

Lizzie’s dad had been watching him all evening—not in a hostile way, but in the kind of quiet, thoughtful way that told Lando he was being assessed. Tested. And, if he was being honest, it was making him a little nervous.

So when Lizzie disappeared into the kitchen with Tasha and Aunt Lou, leaving him alone at the table, he wasn’t surprised when her dad cleared his throat and said, “Come outside with me for a minute.”

Lando nodded, pushing his chair back. His pulse picked up slightly, but he kept his face neutral as he followed Lizzie’s dad out onto the back patio. The evening air was cool, the garden lit by the soft glow of the porch light. Her dad leaned against the railing, crossing his arms over his chest before turning to look at him properly.

“You’re making this public at Silverstone,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

Lando nodded. “Yeah.”

Her dad sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I won’t lie to you, Lando. That worries me.”

Lando swallowed. “Because of the attention?”

“Partly.” Her dad studied him for a long moment. “But mainly because of Lizzie.”

Lando frowned. “I’d never do anything to hurt her.”

“I believe you,” her dad said, surprising him. “But it’s not that simple. Lizzie isn’t just any other girlfriend of an F1 driver. She’s—” He hesitated, exhaling. “She’s Lizzie,” he said finally, like that summed up everything.

Lando nodded slowly, understanding what he meant. Lizzie was a high-profile author.

Lizzie, who lived in a world of words and stories, not flashing cameras and invasive headlines. Lizzie, whose epilepsy made that kind of spotlight infinitely more complicated.

“I know,” Lando said. “And we’ve talked about it.”

Her dad nodded slowly, then fixed him with a look. “Have you seen her have a seizure yet?”

Lando froze.

It was a blunt question, and it knocked the air out of Lando’s lungs.

“No,” he admitted, his voice hoarse. “No, I haven’t seen her have a seizure.”

Her dad’s expression remained stoic, but Lando could see the worry in his eyes.

“Then you don’t know what it’s really like.”

Lando clenched his jaw. “I know it’s serious.”

“You think you know.” Her dad’s voice was even, but there was something heavy behind it. “But until you see it—until you watch her go rigid and collapse without warning, until you see her completely vulnerable and unable to do anything—you don’t know. And you don’t know how you’ll react.”

Lando swallowed hard.

The words hit hard, because they were true. Lando hadn’t seen it. He’d only heard Lizzie’s explanation and seen the aftermath—the dazed expression, the exhaustion, the confusion. But he’d never witnessed a seizure firsthand.

He met her dad’s gaze, his resolve strengthening. “I’m not going to run when it’s bad.”

Her dad sighed. “Her mother left because she couldn’t handle it,” he said quietly. “She loved Lizzie, but love wasn’t enough. The reality was too much for her.” He glanced at Lando, his expression unreadable. “I need to know that won’t happen with you.”

Lando took a deep breath. The weight of the conversation was settling on his shoulders. "I'm not going anywhere."

Her dad watched him carefully. "You say that now, but—"

"No," Lando cut him off. "I'm in this. For the long haul."

There was a long pause. The cicadas were buzzing in the background, and the air was thick with the sound of summer insects.

And then, finally, her dad nodded. "Alright, then."

Her dad studied him, searching for something in his face. Then, finally, he nodded.

Lando took a deep breath, steadying himself. “What do I do?” he asked. “If—when—she has a seizure.”

Her dad seemed to measure him again before nodding, like he’d been waiting for that question. “First thing? Don’t panic.”

Lando almost laughed. Right. Like that would be easy.

Her dad must have seen it on his face because he gave him a look. “I mean it. You panicking won’t help her.”

Lando forced himself to focus. “Okay. What else?”

“Stay calm,” her dad said. “Make sure her head is protected. Don’t try to control her body.”

Lando nodded, committing each word to memory.

Her dad kept going. “And don’t, under any circumstances, try to put anything in her mouth. That’s a common myth, and it’s also dangerous.”

“Time it,” her dad continued. “If it lasts more than five minutes, call an ambulance. But usually, she comes out of it on her own. Just stay with her. Keep her safe.”

Lando exhaled slowly. “And after?”

“She’ll be confused. Disoriented. Sometimes she won’t know where she is or what just happened. And she’ll be exhausted.”

Lando’s chest tightened at the thought. Lizzie—his Lizzie, who was always sharp, always quick with a joke or a teasing remark—lost, confused, vulnerable.

“She might be—” her dad hesitated, his jaw tightening. “She might be upset. Or scared. She hates it. Hates losing control. Hates feeling weak.”

Lando swallowed hard, the thought of that almost worse than the physical aspect.

“The best thing you can do is just be there. Reassure her. Keep her grounded.”

He paused. “And she’ll need time. Don’t push her to get up too soon. Let her rest.”

Lando nodded, absorbing every word.

Her dad sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I know this is a lot. But this is what it means to love her, Lando. You have to be ready for this. All of it.”

Lando met his eyes, determination settling deep in his chest. “I am.”

Her dad held his gaze for a long moment. Then, finally, he nodded.

“Good,” he said. “Because she deserves someone who won’t run when things get hard.”

“I’m not running,” Lando said, voice steady.

Her dad studied him, then—almost reluctantly—gave him a small, approving nod. “Alright,” he said. “Then let’s go back inside before they start thinking I’m scaring you off.”

Lando let out a breath and followed him in. He wasn’t scared.

He just knew—now more than ever—how important it was that he got this right

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ekingston · 2 days ago

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Hi; I don't know if you're still following the word-stream stuff, but the app is back online on the app store as "booktok - books and podcasts". The reviews marking it as having AI scraped data are still on the page itself, even though the name has changed, and duckduckgo still directs to their page if you look up "word-stream audiobooks"-- although if I don't know how long that will last. The website is seemingly gone, but the app still presumably has access to all the stolen works in the database.

Best regards, -someone else whose fics were stolen

yup

word-stream is back

it just calls itself—in an obvious attempt to profit from the TikTok upheaval—BookTok, now. and it’s not just the app, either: the whole website is back online, same as it was just before Cliff Weitzman took it down.

(in case you missed it, here are the original story & the update.)

fortunately (so far) the fanfiction category hasn't been re-added, but if you go to the store page for the app you can see that it’s still using 'fan-created universes' as advertising.

Weitzman didn't register the app under his own name this time, but through something called 'Oak Prime Inc'. hilariously, however, the email address listed in BookTok's privacy policy still refers to word-stream.com, so if Cliff was trying to scrub the connection between Speechify and his BookTok app, he didn't do a very thorough job.

here's the thing (and i'm about to put this up in a separate, more easily digestible post): if you take a look at the terms & conditions of Cliff's other platform, Speechify, it claims a truly comprehensive license to use the works uploaded to that platform in any way Cliff sees fit, including publishing and monetizing it elsewhere. and i keep seeing posts on Reddit and Bluesky from both readers and writers, happily using the Speechify app to read fanfic, advanced reader copies and their own yet-to-be-published work to them.

this is a BAD IDEA. Cliff has already proven that he will take work authored by others without their permission and redistribute it wholesale if he thinks it might make him money.

Cliff is the financial beneficiary of both Speechify and word-stream/booktokapp. it seems pretty obvious to me that he's trying to claim, via Speechify's terms & conditions, that every work uploaded to Speechify is his to do with whatever he pleases, which naturally includes moving them to this other platform so he can charge people for two subscriptions instead of just the one.

thank you so much for keeping an eye on this, anon, and for reaching out!! like i said, another post will go up today about the above, but i'm going to ask you all to help ensure that my posts & my name aren't the only ones giving voice to this message. when i tried to approach people about this issue on social media, often the—completely justified!—response was 'why should I take your word for it?' and Wikipedia only allowed the mention of Weitzman's copyright infringement to remain on his page when 'The Endless Appetite for Fanfiction' was listed as a source.

it can't just be me. DON’T take my word for it. do your own research (i would love to be proven wrong about this!), talk to your friends, engage with posts on social media similar to the ones i mentioned above (those are just some examples, don’t pile on to the OPs!) and make sure people know what they're jeopardizing. help me protect authors from money-grubbing shitheads like this one.

#cliff weitzman #speechify #word-stream #writers on tumblr #ao3 #fanfiction #copyright infringement #fanfic theft #booktokapp #BookTok #text-to-speech #ask me things!#anonymous

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hrrtshape · 18 hours ago

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PLEASE talk about your gossip girl dr you mentioned and young coryooo🥺🥺🥺🥺

things that my boyfriend does in my better cr that....truly warms my heart ( aka emma yaps about coryo )

finished writing this up in maths class, and i just know my teacher thinks i’ve lost the plot….... why are you side-eyeing me? let me giggle in peace.

he carries (one of) my lip glosses in his pocket and acts like it’s the biggest inconvenience but pulls it out instantly when i ask.

sharing airpods in class like it’s a lifeline but he always gives me the one that’s fully charged while he suffers with the dying one.

taking pictures of me when i’m not looking and making them his lock screen. which. ugh. cutie.

he lets me draw on his arm with a pen during class and then complains when it doesn’t wash off before dinner with his parents.

matching hoodies but we pretend it’s not on purpose.

dumb little inside jokes that make absolutely no sense to anyone else. he texts me "frog incident" in the middle of a test and i have to physically leave the room because i’m laughing too hard.

he always ties my shoelaces for me if they come undone, even if it means getting on one knee in the middle of the hallway like a loser.

doodling on my notes in class and writing things like property of coriolanus snow just to get a reaction out of me. weirdo......cringe lowkey. no i love him.

him randomly biting my shoulder when he’s bored.

me (!!) biting his bicep when i'm bored.

he always waits for me outside my last class leaning against the wall like he’s in a music video.

wearing my scrunchie on his wrist because i “left it in his car” (he did NOT have to keep it on).

fell asleep on each other during long drive and woke up to find he’s holding my hand in his sleep.

we made dubai chocolate, and thank god i know my baking cause he curdled the only chocolate we had.

taking me to the gym (ew), but not for like any malicious reason, actually i was the one who suggested it because this man *exercises*!!!!! like ok miss productive at a gym at five am.

matching the maison margiela tabi shoes, it's such a small detail, but i absolutely adore it. he'd be wearing lace-ups and i'd be wearing ballet flats.

driving me to school every morning.

i just have to mention this one part cause it’s so GRAH but i was walking out of my apartment complex and he was leaning against one of the pillars smoking and i came outside and he like wrapped his arm around my shoulder and continued smoking with his free hand. like okay..........

picking me up from the airport at 1am a few days before new years because i got out of the holiday family meetups just a bit earlier to see him.

when i got drunk on soju during the lighting of the tree at rockefeller centre and he was trying to heat me up.

he pinches my cheek. and that’s so evil. like. what the fawk. cherubicusm is NOT A FUNNY THING.

if he’s tired or annoyed or just being an absolute menace, he hooks a finger through my belt loop and just tugs me where he wants me. like i’m a thing to be dragged around. (and maybe i like it a bit....)

late-night drive-thru runs where he insists on ordering for me even though i could do it myself, just so he can say “and a chocolate milkshake for my girl” like we’re in a 1950s movie.

he keeps a lipstick-stained napkin from a dinner date in his wallet and pretends it’s just in there by accident, but he refuses to throw it away.

when i do my makeup in his room, he sits on his bed and watches.

he always puts my hair behind my ear when it falls in my face. not even thinking about it. just automatic.

when i fell asleep on his shoulder during a flight, he stayed awake the whole time just so my head wouldn’t move.

he let me paint his nails, but only clear polish, and only if i promised not to tell anyone.

he never lets me carry my own suitcase. ever. even when i argue.

when we go to stupid parties, he always keeps an arm around my shoulder when we’re moving through crowds, just so we don’t get separated.

he untangles my necklace chain when it gets knotted. just takes it from my hands and fixes it like it’s nothing.

i didn't respond to his texts once and he sent me a picture of my own house like “i know you’re in there.”

this is the mooooost miniscule but ungodly detail that made me want to marry him, but, having soy milk in his fridge. mind you, he lives with his family (he's 18 and we're still in school) and i visit 7 times max per week (every day....). and. wow. ugh.

every time he borrows a pen, he returns it with the cap bitten.

when i was complaining about my hands being cold, he took them in his and blew warm air on them.

when i’m walking ahead of him, he loops a finger through my bag strap and tugs me back. like...... not so fast. like.... where do you think you’re going?

we hook our pinkies together when walking. monster.

he adjusts my necklace when it gets twisted, gently brushing his knuckles against my throat. no acknowledgment. no reaction. just fixes it and moves on. (like a freak.)

if we’re arguing and i cross my arms, he just reaches out and tugs my wrist free, uncrossing them with this calm, effortless little motion. LIKE??? HELLO??? I NEED THAT BACK, ACTUALLY???

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sunrisecaminus · 1 day ago

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HIII, I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM, ITS SRSLY SO SCRUMPTIOUS? <333

I wanted to request bumblebee/ratchet/knockout/ megatron headcanons of them finding reader working on a lot of figurines and their vehicle models. I want to see how the bots would react? (Esp ratchet, I love that grumpy old man sm)

Message - DUDE JBVPAVHUBSVO! I wish I could write more, but this is all I could think of. Also awe thanks! Don't make me blush :3

Bumblebee/Knockout/Ratchet/Megatron x Reader Headcanons

Summary - Human makes their Cybertronians friend a figurine of their alt mode. All their reactions to you making them the cutest thing ever.

Warning - Cute

Bumblebee

When he finds your little workshop, watching you making a polished figurine of his car, he was fully supportive of it. He loved everything that you did and every time he saw you making your projects, Bee stays around and observes how you make the details. There is a cute joke you guys do by telling him to "freeze!!!" when he is in his alt mode. You take pictures of what he looks like to help yourself have references. Bumblebee would try so hard not to make any sound while you work, but if you ask him if he likes it…you would get loud excited beeping about how beautiful you made him. The fact he would keep every single one of them will show you how much he appreciates them. If someone told you that the figurines suck, Bumblebee would go wild and make sure that person never comes close to you again. It's funny how mad he gets to protect you, but honestly its very sweet.

Knockout

Now, Knockout would be the most obnoxious person about finding out about your skill. This man would kiss and snuggle you every day for the rest of your life after he knows. Need references? Just ask him and he would stay in his alt mode for long periods of time so you can have one you could actually look at in person. Do you understand how much this guy would adore you? Do you understand how much he adores HIMSELF?! Do you remember how in the show, Starscream would brag to everyone how he was the one to kill cliffjumper? YEAH THAT'S KNOCKOUT! "Did you know I am a hired model? My body is so beautiful, a master of sculpting is using it for their art projects~" He will say it every where. Starscream being annoying? Knockout brags about being a model. Arachnid being a threatening meanie? Knockout will say you were useful for showing off his sexy body in sculptures. Megatron mad at him for having an unsuccessful mission? "Well big M, at least today I am going to outshine everyone on this ship by getting a sculpture version of me." He is weirdly supportive of it…in his own way. Knockout would cherish everything you do and even help buy you better supplies to help you improve. Everyday he would see you working on one and you would just feel a little kiss on your head to feel his loving energy.

Ratchet

"What in the Allspark are you doing? I am not someone for you to just make a replica of!" Yeah Ratchet is very much flustered about the whole thing. You making a figurine of his alt mode was adorable though, seeing a miniature him was so embarrassing. What you secretly don't know is that he put the figures up on the desk he has so he can appreciate your crafts while working. Does he wish you would just stop? Yes. Is he going to tell you? No! He would never tell you to stop doing things you like, just please stop making sculptures of him. He would try to nit pick the figurine to make you think you didn't do good and that would make you not sculpt him anymore, but when he saw how upset you got, thinking you made him look ugly…yeah he broke. Now he just blushes and says it looks good whenever you show him your finished product. Not a warm and fuzzy kind of guy, but he would secretly buy you more materials online so you could continue your dreams and passions. He understands the feeling of being good at your job, and doesn't want to ruin that for you. If he heard someone talk crap about your projects, Ratchet might get suspended for medical malpractice later.

Megatron

OF COURSE THIS EGOTISTICAL WARLORD LIKES IT! He would put the damn thing next to his throne to look at it from time to time. "Make me another or I will use you for target practice!" Anyone who says you are bad at making figurines will DIE. Don't question the decapitated body in the corner, please don't even mention it. He would title you are an architect on his ship and give you a respectable salary if you keep making him stuff. It doesn't even have to be sculptures of him. Make him a model of the ship and he would use it as a 3d blueprint whenever he wants to upgrade something on the ship. "And you see here, this is where I want the new engines to be placed." Starscream thinks this shit is stupid. Will he ever tell Megatron? FRAG NO! You are now the lord's favorite and nothing will change that. He would sit you on the arm of his throne and pet you on the top of your head. You will never leave, you will never switch sides, and you will never be killed. Oh and his threats are fake, that man secretly loves you and would never lay a finger on you. He would send a figure to Optimus as a "look at what my soldiers do for me" type shit. Bro, you could tell him that someone ruined your project and he would literally walk around the ship with you on his shoulder, asking you to point out who. Even if it was Airachnid, nah, bye Airachnid! He would not care who it was, do not ruin his pet's MASTERPIECE!

#maccadam #tfp #transformers #transformers prime #transformers x reader #transformers x y/n #transformers x human #megatron #megatron x reader #bumblebee #bumblebee x reader #ratchet #ratchet x reader #knockout #knockout x reader

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hollowed-theory-hall · 2 days ago

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Hello, I love your blog

Do you think that a lot of people at hogwarts had a crush on Harry? Do you consider him a dreamboat? I like to think that Parvati, Dean and even Neville had a crush on him at some point

Hi 👋

Thank you so much 💕

Honestly, yes. We know Harry was considered a catch at Hogwarts.

In 4th year before the Yule Ball, multiple girls ask him out (even older ones that didn't need a date to go to the ball):

“Why do they have to move in packs?” Harry asked Ron as a dozen or so girls walked past them, sniggering and staring at Harry. “How’re you supposed to get one on their own to ask them?”

(GoF)

A curly-haired third-year Hufflepuff girl to whom Harry had never spoken in his life asked him to go to the ball with her the very next day. Harry was so taken aback he said no before he’d even stopped to consider the matter. The girl walked off looking rather hurt, and Harry had to endure Dean’s, Seamus’s, and Ron’s taunts about her all through History of Magic. The following day, two more girls asked him, a second year and (to his horror) a fifth year who looked as though she might knock him out if he refused.

(GoF)

Cho Chang seems to have been open to it when he asked her out she declined becouse she already agreed to Cedric:

“D’you — d’you want to go to the ball with me?” said Harry. Why did he have to go red now? Why ? “Oh!” said Cho, and she went red too. “Oh Harry, I’m really sorry,” and she truly looked it. “I’ve already said I’ll go with someone else.”

(GoF)

And in OotP, Cho clearly was interested in Harry (not in his personality, but in who she thought he was):

“Yes, it’s on Valentine’s Day. . . .” “Right,” said Harry, wondering why she was telling him this. “Well, I suppose you want to — ?” “Only if you do,” she said eagerly.

(OotP)

Parvati was all for going with Harry Potter to the ball. So much so she dragged her sister to be Ron’s date so she could bag the Boy Who Lived:

“Parvati? Will you go to the ball with me?” Parvati went into a fit of giggles. Harry waited for them to subside, his fingers crossed in the pocket of his robes. “Yes, all right then,” she said finally, blushing furiously. “Thanks,” said Harry, in relief. “Lavender — will you go with Ron?” “She’s going with Seamus,” said Parvati, and the pair of them giggled harder than ever. Harry sighed. “Can’t you think of anyone who’d go with Ron?” he said, lowering his voice so that Ron wouldn’t hear. [...] “Well . . .” said Parvati slowly, “I suppose my sister might . . . Padma, you know . . . in Ravenclaw. I’ll ask her if you like.”

(GoF)

Who ended up being a disappointing date. Harry being a lousy date didn't stop Parvati and Lavender from thinking Harry is hot though:

Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, the last two of whom gave Harry airy, overly friendly greetings that made him quite sure they had stopped talking about him a split second before.

(OotP)

And in HBP we see many girls trying to get Harry's attention:

Then he blinked and looked around: He was surrounded by mesmerized girls. “Hi, Harry!” said a familiar voice from behind him. “Neville!” said Harry in relief, turning to see a round-faced boy struggling toward him.

(HBP)

The second group was comprised of ten of the silliest girls Harry had ever encountered, who, when he blew his whistle, merely fell about giggling and clutching one another. Romilda Vane was amongst them. When he told them to leave the pitch, they did so quite cheerfully and went to sit in the stands to heckle everyone else. The third group had a pileup halfway around the pitch. Most of the fourth group had come without broomsticks. The fifth group were Hufflepuffs. “If there’s anyone else here who’s not from Gryffindor,” roared Harry, who was starting to get seriously annoyed, “leave now, please!” There was a pause, then a couple of little Ravenclaws went sprinting off the pitch, snorting with laughter.

(HBP)

While I don't think Harry is Hermione's ideal romantic partner, she thinks he is a catch too:

“Oh, come on, Harry,” said Hermione, suddenly impatient. “It’s not Quidditch that’s popular, it’s you! You’ve never been more interesting, and frankly, you’ve never been more fanciable.” Ron gagged on a large piece of kipper. Hermione spared him one look of disdain before turning back to Harry. [...] “And it doesn’t hurt that you’ve grown about a foot over the summer either,” Hermione finished, ignoring Ron. “I’m tall,” said Ron inconsequentially.

(HBP)

And I don't really ship Drarry, as in, I don't really like the dynamic, but I have eyes and I can see Draco can very much be read as having a crush on Harry. I mean, he seeks out Harry on the train literally every year except 6th (& 7th), he seeks Harry out whenever he can in general, and his wand (with a super loyal unicorn core that tends to wilt rather than work for another owner) works for Harry perfectly — which says something about Draco's feelings for Harry. (His behaviour towards Harry kinda reads as pulling pigtails — he just, really wants Harry's attention and goes out of his way to seek it out way too often).

Not sure if Neville had a crush on Harry (I see him as straight), but he definitely looks up to him:

Neville Longbottom, who gave a roar of delight, leapt down from the mantelpiece and yelled. “I knew you’d come! I knew it, Harry!”

(DH)

Harry is who all the DA look to lead them, though, to know what to do:

“Look who it is! Didn’t I tell you?” As Harry emerged into the room beyond the passage, there were several screams and yells: “HARRY!” “It’s Potter, it’s POTTER!” “Ron!” “Hermione!”

(DH)

The DA are happy to see Ron and Hermione, but Harry is first, Harry is their figure-head and source of hope, so it's not just Neville and I wouldn't really call it a crush. You can headcanon it, but, it didn't read that way to me.

Dean is a possibility, honestly, but I don't really have any evidence for it, so you could headcanon that too if you want. (It could be funny that Dean and Ginny are dating each other to make Harry jealous because both of them like Harry. They spend their dates talking about Harry).

And obviously, Ginny thinks Harry is a catch.

The point of all of this, is yes, Harry is good-looking by the later books and is considered a catch to various students at Hogwarts since his 4th year. The majority of them, though, don't really know Harry as a person. They see the Boy Who Lived, not Harry, and that's who the majority are attracted to.

#harry potter #hp #hp meta #asks #hollowedtheory #optimisticparadisekoala #harry james potter #harry potter meta #parvati patil #draco malfoy #dean thomas #neville longbottom #cho chang

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bloomries · 11 hours ago

Note

Hey hey! I hope you’re doing well! I absolutely ADORE your “calling them husband” thing, it’s SO cute! Would you be up to doing similar for the other dateables? (So like… Dia, Barb, Simeon, and Solomon?) if not that’s totally chill too, but figured I’d ask! Either way, have a wonderful weekend!

me and my husband~

includes : diavolo, barbatos, simeon, and solomon.

summary : calling him your "husband" (even though you two aren't married yet) to see his reaction.

warnings : gn! reader. mention of marriage.

part 1

DIAVOLO

You knew you had to be cautious, say it at the wrong time and Barbatos would certainly be pissed- which was something you wanted to avoid more than anything. So, in the early hours, as you helped Diavolo get ready for the day, you couldn't help but tease. "What am I to do alone without my husband?"

At first it's eerily quiet, and you're nervous to glance up to see Diavolo's reaction, his fingers- which rested on your waist- twitch as his grips tightens a bit. "I- I was just prankin-"

He leaned in close, his lips by your ears. "Is that what you want?" His voice was low and smooth. "Should I finally bestow such a title upon you, hm? I've certainly thought about it more than a few times..." He muses, pulling away just enough for you to see the smirk on his lips.

You're still a bit stunned by his sudden shift in demeanor and his hinting words. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. Diavolo chuckles. "Be patient for me, spouse. We'll talk more about this tonight, okay?"

And before Barbatos can interrupt such an intimate moment, Diavolo presses a kiss to the corners of your lips before leaving- leaving you stunned and waiting for the promise of tonight.

BARBATOS

You were helping him set up for a party being hosted by the Devildom's prince, wanting to do anything to relieve some of the stress of it for him. "Where should these flowers go?" The delivery man asked, glancing around the giant hall.

"Hmm," you hum in thought, also glancing around the hall. "My husband will want them over there." You say casually, just loud enough to capture the said demon's attention. He didn't really give much of a reaction at first, just glancing your way before returning to the party details.

It wasn't until much later that you finally find out how he feels about your words. "Husband, hm?" He asks, his hand in yours as he leads you two around the dance floor- one of the few pleasures of helping to plan a party. You grin, your eyes sparkling with delight.

"I was wondering if you heard that." Barbatos hums in response, a smile sneaking its way on to his features.

"Whilst I'm not opposed to the title," He says, pulling you impossibly closer to him. "Perhaps we should wait until I've properly earned it, hm?"

"Oh? And when will that be?" You tease, biting your lip in anticipation. Barbatos chuckles, taking a step away as the song ends. He bows, placing a kiss to the back of your hand.

"Soon, I assure you." And then he's leading you to get a drink with him.

SIMEON

Sometimes it was hard to tease Simeon, but other times it was oh-so-easy that it'd be painfully hard not to mess with him a little. So when the little old granny cheerfully asked if you two were a married couple, you had to step in. You clutched his arm a little tighter, and before he could answer you spoke. "That's right, this my darling husband~"

Simeon sputtered a bit, looking at you mild disbelief to have agreed and even call him such an endearing term without hesitation. Simeon, trying not to cause a scene however, composed himself rather quickly and smiled at the elder woman.

"Mm, yes... I- I'm their husband..." He nods along. He's thankful she doesn't say much more, only commenting you two were adorable together before leaving. When she's far enough, you burst out into laughter. He frowns, arms crossed over his chest.

"Honestly..." He sighs, shaking his head at your antics. "You just love to mess with me, don't you?" You wipe away at tears from laughing so hard, glancing at him with a grin.

"Well it'll be true one day, so what's the harm in saying it now, right?" And if you thought his reaction earlier was cute, this one was much, much cuter- a shy smile he tries hard to hide. Simeon certainly hopes it'll be true one day.

SOLOMON

"Husband, oh my lovely husband~" You call whilst you know Solomon's in the middle of brewing a potion. You peaked your head into his lab, only to see him completely unbothered. He lifts his head only to meet your eyes for a few brief seconds before returning to his potion.

"Is there something you need, dear?" You frown, entering the room fully now.

"Not even a smile? No blush? Nothing?" He has a sly grin now as he shrugs.

"It's not I'm new to the title or anything." Solomon says simply, and this simple sentence causes your eye to twitch. "A great many, in fact, have called me such-" He narrowly dodges an attack, an alchemical book flying right for his head, before he realizes maybe he went a little too far with his own teasing.

"I'm never calling you that again, I swear-" Before you can leave he's abandoned his potion, his arms encircling you from behind.

"Don't be mad," He whispers, "You know that there isn't anybody I'd rather call me that than you." He presses kisses to the nape of your neck and downwards toward your shoulder. "And it's never sounded as sweet as it does than coming from your lips- like wine." He murmurs, "sweet and addicting." You roll your eyes, turning around to face him.

"Don't think your flowery words have gotten you out of trouble... completely." He grins, that mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"I have plenty more where that came from, if you're interested?"

Biting back a laugh, you drag him out of his lab. "Hm, keep it up and you'll have that title back by the end of the day." And he was more than happy to provide flowery, honeyed words forever should it please you.

#obey me x reader #obey me imagines #obey me headcanons #om x reader #om headcanons #om imagines #omswd x reader #omswd headcanons #omswd imagines #diavolo x reader #barbatos x reader #simeon x reader #solomon x reader

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ki2rins · 19 hours ago

Text

⟢ lowkey - nsr

pairings: badboy! riki x fem! reader || fluff, crack || wc: 5k

synopsis: news flash! nishimura riki is finally mature enough to acknowledge his feelings for you and he wants to let you know! but what would he do? A. try to feed you? B. walk you home? C. many more. or D. all of the above? warnings: hes not really a badboy...just more of a get into fights/suspensions boy, loosely based / integrated from the anime - my little monster, highschool! au, petnames, playful banter, teasing, confident ni-ki, shy reader, swearing, - lmk if i missed out anything! playlist: lowkey - niki, moonstruck - enhypen, your eyes only - enhypen, is this love - XG rin's yap: gawddd first try at writing an actual fic, big thanks to bby who sent in the ask, ily smm <3 do let me know what yall think about it!

➽──────────────❥➽──────────────❥

nishimura riki or ni-ki was too boisterous. too boisterous for your calm, simple minded nature. he was noisy, you were quiet. he was sporty, you were not. he had a reputation that followed him wherever he went, while you preferred to stay low and blend into the background. yet, despite these stark differences, he always seemed to gravitate towards you. shocking you by leaving random candies on your desk, doodles on your notebook and even occasionally gives you a smile or two whenever your eyes meet. you thought to yourself, countless times even, on the reasons why ni-ki would shower you with these subtle affections. little do you know that the man, the myth himself, has a major crush on you. ni-ki took note of every simple detail about you. from how you’ll do your hair - a simple ponytail on mondays to thursdays and a small tidy bun on fridays since there was gym class. he also noticed how you’ll forget to have your lunch when you are caught up on annotating your textbook, and today was the day he spoke up about it.

ni-ki’s footsteps echoed through the classroom as the door swung open. his usual confident stride was back after his suspension, as if nothing has changed, though the whispers around him had already started. he flashed his signature smirk to the few people who dared make contact, his reputation clearly preceding him. most of the students avoided him, but not you. you didnt really have time to keep your head into these dramas, and you certainly didnt understand why everyone cared so much about his return. yet, for some reason, there he was, standing at the entrance of your usual seat. “you mind if i sit here?” ni-ki asked, his voice laced with a lazy confidence, like it wasnt even a question.

you blinked, trying not to show the hesitation in your eyes. the desk next to yours was the only one left open. you nodded, but the words caught in your throat as he slid into the seat without waiting for your approval.

his eyes briefly scanned the open space on your desk - notes, pens, textbooks and the untouched lunch you had packed earlier.

“you busy?” ni-ki asked, as if making small talk with you was his second nature. his tone was nonchalant, like he was speaking to someone he had known for years, even though you had barely exchanged a couple of sentences before.

you glanced at him, then back at your notebook. “kind of.” ni-ki hummed, playing with the contents in your pencil case. “kind of? looks more like youre drowning in notes.”

you sighed, placing your pen down. “its lunch period, if youre not here to study, why are you sitting here and bothering me? shouldnt you be in the cafeteria or something?” he leaned forward slightly, elbow propped on the desk, resting his chin on his fist. “but you havent eaten.” ni-ki said lazily. his eyes stared at your lunch then back at you. “how do you-” “you do this a lot, get too caught up in work, forget the time then boom - lunch period passes and your lunch gets forgotten.” your mind went blank upon hearing the words that just escaped from ni-ki’s mouth. he described that usual routine so perfectly that for a second you wondered - do doppelgangers exist in this world? you were so lost in your thoughts that you didnt realised until you heard the presence beside you speak up again.

“eat.” ni-ki said as he nudged your lunchbox towards you.

you hesitated, scanning his face for any sign of teasing, but he looked…oddly serious. it was strange, having someone notice such a small habit of yours, much less some like ni-ki. at that moment, you found yourself staring at him - from his jaw to the countless moles on his face, to his lazy-looking eyes and the stray strands of hair resting on his nose. damn. he look…good.

“do you want me to feed you or something?” you blinked as you register his words. what in the world was he saying now? “come on yn, lunch period is ending in 10 minutes. chop chop.” ni-ki said as he took your lunchbox, opening it and passing you the sandwich you prepared for yourself earlier this morning, bringing it up to your lips.

“i-i can eat it myself.” you snatched the sandwich away and turned the opposite reaction. taking a bite as you feel blood rushing up to your cheeks.

upon seeing you shying away from him, ni-ki leaned back on his chair, arms crossed and a knowing smirk growing on his face. he admired the sight in front of him and it killed him to not take this chance to tease you even more, and what he says next really drove you insane.

“good girl”

then you choked. ➽──────────────❥➽──────────────❥

you were so caught up in your thoughts that you barely noticed the bell ringing, signaling the end of class. as you packed your thing into your bag, your mind drifted back to earlier - specifically, the moment when ni-ki pointed out that habit of yours.

“but you havent eaten”

“do you want me to feed you or something?”

“good girl”

your cheeks warmed again at the thought of his words. he was right, as much as it embarrassed you. it wasnt the first time you had forgotten to eat, but hearing him call you out on it felt different somehow - like there was a tinge of affection wrapped up in those sweet words.

as you were wrapping up your thoughts, you attempted to slip out of your seat, but you froze when ni-ki’s voice reached your ears.

“ready to go?”

you turned your head, confused. “ready to go where?”

his smirk remained as he gave you a nonchalant shrug. “home.” and that was how you suddenly found yourself walking side by side with ni-ki.

you cant lie, you dont have many friends. you chose to be part of a small, quiet circle that only hung out every once in awhile, mostly just to study or to catch up. your day to day was simple and predictable - go to school, proceed home, study then lastly, sleep. and so, it repeats again and again.

is he doing all these out of pity? is he…looking down on me?

it was unplanned, uncalled for even. you cant help but wonder if his actions covered up for any malicious intentions. but here you were, leaving the classroom and walking down the hallway, your footsteps in sync despite the silence hanging between you as you both made your way out of school. you glanced up at him, his hands shoved casually into his pockets, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

“so, whats your deal?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

ni-ki raised an eyebrow, glancing at you sideways. “my deal? you have been avoiding me.”

you stopped walking for a brief second. “i havent been-”

“yeah, you have.” he cut in smoothly. “you have been acting different lately, quieter. you dont usually keep to yourself.

fuck. why is he noticing every single thing?

but you could feel your heart skip a beat at his words. was it that obvious? you tried to brush it off, but his presence was so overwhelming, it was hard to hide anything. you forced a casual shrug. “its nothing.”

ni-ki raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “uh huh. sure. you have been way too quiet. no more random laughter with friends in class. not raising hands to answer questions anymore. you are usually…not this distant.”

you tried to think of a response but found yourself coming up short. was he always this perceptive? or were you just that readable?

“what about you?” putting up a more defensive front after being called out. “you dont exactly make it easy for people to talk to you.”

he just gave you a lazy grin. “i dont need people to talk to me. i have got everything i need.”

you blinked, unsure how to respond to that. his self-confidence, or maybe arrogance, was something that always threw you off. it was like he know he had the power to make anyone talk, but didnt care enough to do so.

“so, whats the plan after school?” ni-ki asked, his voice casual again, like the conversation had never left that easy, confident tone.

“im going to study.” you said quickly, almost instinctively, though your thoughts were drifting to the last few hours of class.

“of course you are. you always study, but you need a break.” he said as he turned, walking backwards now, his gaze never leaving you. “maybe i’ll join you someday, keep you company while youre at it. who knows, maybe i could even tutor you.”

your heart did a strange flip at his words, but you tried not to show it. “yeah, right. you spend more time being suspended than actually being at school, and you think you can tutor me?”

he shrugged, as if the idea didnt faze him at all. “well if you never try, you’ll never know.” he shot you a wink. “the invitation is always up, you could just give me a ring or drop me a text whenever.”

you hummed, trying to stay calm while still processing the casual ‘invitation’ ni-ki had offered to you. you wanted to snap something back, but the air between you was thick with something you didnt quite understand. was this the way he usually operated? you couldnt tell if he was serious or if he was just messing with you.

the walk home continued in silence, but your thoughts were racing. ni-ki was… unpredictable, and that made you nervous in a way you werent used to.

➽──────────────❥➽──────────────❥

and so, the weekend came along and not once did you leave ni-ki’s mind.

it wasnt like he didnt have other things to do. he had a routine - friends, his usual chaos - but somehow his thoughts kept drifting back to you. the way you blushed when he teased you about your lunch, the way you avoided meeting his gaze and the strange tension between you both that had been hanging ever since that walk home.

he didnt get it. you were different from the usual crowd he interacted with. quiet, reserved. he was used to people talking around him, trying to get his attention, but you…you didnt try at all.

maybe thats what made you so interesting. and alluring.

he found himself staring at his phone more than usual, waiting for a message from you. he had dropped the invitation, and part of him thought you had just ignored it. but another part of him wonder if maybe, just maybe you would reach out.

his fingers hovered over the keys, typing and deleting messages, not sure how to play this out. he wasnt used to feeling like this, like there was something worth waiting for.

with a frustrated breath, he tapped out a quick message, keeping it casual, trying to convince himself.

okay, you got this. just send the message. easy-peasy, no pressure.

he stared at the screen for a moment longer, then, with a sigh, he sent it.

ni-ki hey, its ni-ki just thought i'll remind you the offer is still open ;)

ni-ki stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity, waiting for a reply. his thumb hovered over the phone, already anticipating the silent rejection or the awkward radio silence that might follow. you see, ni-ki is a boy who dreams big, but he does not know how to achieve his dreams. he is not sure on the ways to approach or even to impress you. he is just placing his bets on the weird and awkward gestures he does to catch your attention, and something about his gut told him this time - that it he has a shot.

still, he tried not to get this hopes up too much.

the minutes dragged on, and his eyes flicked back to his phone again and again, even though he knew it was ridiculous.

finally, the screen lit up. his heart skipped a beat.

it was a reply.

yn thanks for the reminder i'll think abt it

his lips quirked into a small, knowing smile. it wasnt exactly a ‘yes’, but it wasnt a ‘no’ either. but he was determined to make you say ‘yes’.

ni-ki well if ure gonna think abt it u might as well take me up on the offer

he hit send, then tossed the phone to the side, trying to distract himself with anything else. but as always, his mind drifted back to you. was he coming off too strong? was he annoying you?

a ping sounded, and he instantly grabbed his phone.

yn youre serious about this huh?

ni-ki smirked, tapping a finger to his chin like he was trying to play it cool. he then replied quickly.

ni-ki i mean it wasnt a joke in the first place besides im pretty sure i could teach u a thing or two

yn im not so sure abt that im fine studying on my own

he grinned, sensing an opportunity.

ni-ki i know u'll say that but we both know ure not the greatest at keeping up w anyth and everyth remember what happened during that lunch period? classic example of u getting lost in your work dont think i didnt notice

there was a long pause, and ni-ki started to think he might have pushed it too far. but then, his phone buzzed again.

yn youre really observant huh? you sound very much like a stalker but abt ur offer im not sure abt it im not yk the best study buddy

ni-ki laughed to himself before replying almost instantly.

ni-ki ure prob right but thats why u need me and yk me irl so i cant be deemed as a stalker :) plus i promise i wont bite unless u want me to

ni-ki cringed at the last part but he didnt want to delete it. thinking to let you decide how to comprehend that.

yn :l fine i'll give it a shot but dont expect me to enjoy it

ni-ki's grin widened. he had won this round.

ni-ki deal see? that wasnt so hard

yn whatever i'll see u tmr then mr tutor

he laughed before typing out his last reply.

ni-ki cant wait to see u tmr promise it'll be fun :)

once done, he leaned back against his bed, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips. he wasnt sure what he had been expecting, but the fact that you agreed made it feel like progress. it wasnt much, but for ni-ki, it was a step forward and a win, is a win.

➽──────────────❥➽──────────────❥

you found yourself in the strangest places at the oddest times.

and here you are, standing outside ni-ki’s doorstep on a bright and sunny, sunday afternoon.

honestly you didnt expected yourself to agree to his offer at all, but something about his persistent messages and the way he would playfully pushed you to study with him had gotten to you. so here you were - standing in front of a you never thought you would be near, at a time you definitely never saw coming, door.

you took a deep breath and rang the doorbell, wincing at how loud it sounded against the silence of the street. your thoughts were scattered, your mind racing through the worst-case scenarios. what if he gave you the wrong address? what if hes not home? you swallowed hard, trying to shake off the wave of nervousness crashing over you.

just then, the door opened with a soft creek, there he was - ni-ki, standing in the doorway, donning just a simple tank top with sweats, greeting you with that familiar cocky smile on his face.

“hey” he said, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. “you actually showed up.”

you couldnt tell if his smirk was a teasing one or was he genuinely impressed at the fact that you were standing right infront of his doorstep. either way, it did little to calm your nerves.

“well” you cleared your throat. “i said i would, didnt i?”

he grinned wider, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “i’ll believe it when i see it.”

you rolled your eyes, trying to hide the flush creeping up your neck. “so uh. where are we studying?” you asked, doing your best to sound casual.

he stepped aside, gesturing you to come in. “follow me. i have a study spot all set up.”

as you entered, the tension in your chest started to ease slightly. it was just studying right, right? you could handle this. but still, you couldnt shake the feeling that something had shifted between the two of you ever since that walk home.

the study session wasnt anything out of the ordinary - at least, thats what you tried to tell yourself. you and ni-ki were seated side by side, books scattered across the desk, his room quiet except for the occasional rustling of papers and the soft tapping of your pens.

you tried to focus on your notes, but it wasnt easy when he kept glancing at you. his gaze was so intense, and it made your stomach do these weird flips you couldnt explain. every time you looked to your side, he’ll be looking at you with that half-smirk of his.

“need help with that equation?” ni-ki asked casually, leaning over to look at your paper, your shoulders making contact, making you tensed.

“i-i got it.” you stuttered, quickly writing down the the answer and shifting your body aside, slightly tucking yourself inwards.

he chuckled softly, clearly amused by your reaction. “relax cutie, im just making sure youre not stressing too much.”

your heart beat faster at his words, especially by the petname he just called you. it wasnt the first time he had said something to put you at ease, but somehow it felt different today. you couldnt help but notice how gentle his tone was, how patient he was with you.

there was a brief silence before you felt him brush his fingers against your cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. his touch was light, but it sent an unexpected shiver down your spine.

“youre too close.” you muttered, trying to distract yourself by scribbling down more notes, but it was hard when his hand lingered in the air, still so close.

ni-ki didnt seem to mind the tension. instead, he leaned back in his chair, eyes never leaving yours. “youre cute when youre flustered, you know that?”

you tried not to blush, but the heat creeping up your neck was unavoidable. “stop messing around.”

“im not messing around.” he replied softly, his voice suddenly more serious. he leaned towards you, resting his elbows on the desk, his gaze softening. “you know, i have been thinking about something.”

your eyes met his, and for a second, it felt like the whole world stopped. you felt nervous, your chest thumped in anticipation. you didnt know what he was about to say, but something told you it was important.

“wh-what?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

he hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking to your lips before returning to your eyes.

“i like you. a lot. like, more than just a study buddy. im not sure if you could tell, but i have been trying to get closer to you and i was praying all my gestures wouldnt shoo you away instead.”

your breath caught in your throat. you had not expect this moment, your heart raced, and you could feel the color rising in your cheeks, “ni-ki…”

he reached out, his thumb brushing the back of your hand gently. “i know this might sound sudden, but i like the way you are. quiet, thoughtful. you dont make a big deal out of anything. and…i think youre a lot more than you give yourself credit for.”

there was an awkward pause, and you werent sure what to say. you had been so focused on the fact that he was always the cool, aloof guy, that you had not noticed how serious he had been about this whole thing.

you did reciprocate his feelings back, but there was just one thing that was stopping you from doing so - his reputation. he was the headstrong boy who gets into fights and treats the world as his playground. you, on the other hand, were just an average girl exploring life one step at the time. both of you were polar opposites, and that scared you.

people had warned you about him before - teachers who sighed at the look of his bruised and battered sight, classmates who gossiped about his flights, the way he always seemed to get himself into troubles and brush it off like it was nothing. ‘he doesnt care about anything’ they said. ‘hes just looking for fun.’ but sitting here now, with the way he was looking at you, speaking so softly, so genuinely…you werent sure if that was true anymore.

before you could summarised your thoughts, ni-ki broke the silence, his voice playful again but with that soft edge of sincerity. “dont worry. im not expecting anything, not from you anyway. but i thought you should know.”

those four words that he slipped in hurt you in ways you couldnt explain. you wanted to admit your feelings for him but the fear still stays. however, something inside of you just wanted to give it a shot, not caring if you would get hurt in the process. life is full of growth anyways right?

“ni-ki” you said, still unsure of how to phrase your words.

he hummed, leaning close to you. “yeah?”

“im scared, but i want to try…wanna make this work. make this work with…you.”

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you and ni-ki did not settle on any label of your current in-between-friendship-situationship-relationship-state. instead, you both agreed to take this one step at the time, keeping things lowkey.

so when he texted you on a saturday night with a simple “wanna go out?”, you werent sure if he meant a date or just another random meet-up. but then again, did it matter?

the waves crashed gently against the shore as the two of you walked side by side, your footsteps sinking into the sand. the beach was quiet, save for the distant laughter of a few night strollers and the occasional rustling of the breeze. it wasnt planned, wasnt fancy - just the two of you, sneakers in hand, the salty air clinging to your skin.

“didnt think you would actually show up.” ni-ki mused, kicking a stray shell along the sand. his tone was light, but you caught a small smile tugging at his lips.

you scoffed, hugging your arms. “you do realise you texted me at, like, ten, right?”

“yeah, but youre here anyways.” he nudged you with his elbow. “you just cant resist me huh?”

you rolled your eyes, but your heart betrayed you, skipping a beat at the way he said it - so effortlessly, so naturally, like this thing between you had always been there.

the night stretched on as you walked, exchanging quiet conversation and playful remarks, but beneath it all, there was something else - something unspoken, lingering between your words - until ni-ki finally brought it up.

“you still scared?” he stopped to face you, his voice soft and you could tell he was serious, no teasing, no laughter. he didnt elaborate, but you knew exactly what he meant.

you hesitated, staring out at the dark horizon, “a little.”

ni-ki hummed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “good. means you actually care.”

he said it so simply, yet it made your chest tighten. you glanced at him, searching his face, and for once, he wasnt smirking. and in that moment you could tell - the facade was gone, he wasnt ni-ki but riki, just a boy looking at you like you were the only person on the stretch of sand.

you both now settled to sit on the sand, hearing the waves clash against each other as you both kept quiet. you studied his face once again, ni-ki hugged his knees, toes playing with the sand, the usual smirk on his face replaced with a faint frown. you could tell that he was distracted and for the first time, you felt his confidence falter and it was worrying you. his eyes didnt hold their playful spark, they were distant, thoughtful. you couldnt but ask.

“is everything okay?” your voice was soft, careful, unsure if you were stepping into something you shoudnt.

ni-ki looked at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. then, he sighed. “you ever wonder if people only see what they want to see?”

“what do you mean?” you blinked, processing his words, unsure of the hidden meaning behind his question.

he ran a hand through his hair, letting out another frustrated sigh. “i mean…im this ‘bad boy’ that everyone perceives me to be. i get into fights, i skip classes, i dont care about anything or anyone. people see that, and they think the know who i am. hell, even i have convinced myself that its easier to just be this…persona. its just easier to let people think im this heartless guy than to show them that…im more than that.”

his words tugged at your heartstrings. you knew the troubles, but you never understood it, not until this moment. the playful, cocky ni-ki you knew, that chased you, was suddenly nowhere to be found. instead, you saw someone who was burdened by an image that never felt like it fit.

“youre not heartless.” you said, your voice steady but filled with sincerity. without thinking, you reached out and gently placed your hand on his, the warmth of your touch grounding him in the quiet stillness of the night. “you never were.”

ni-ki looked down at your hand, gaze softening. “you dont get it. you dont know what its like to always be the guy everyone expects to mess up. i even made you second-guess this whole situation didnt i?” he turned to face you, eyes locked on yours.

you tried to search for the usual playful spark in his eyes, but it was gone. there was only vulnerability. he was no longer the confident, untouchable ni-ki, but just a boy who had learned to hide behind walls. his gaze searched yours, and for a moment, you felt the wright of his insecurities pressing down on you.

you couldnt help but feel guilty. you couldnt help but blame the world for putting so much on his shoulders. for making him self-doubt himself, for making you doubt him.

“you dont have to be that guy for anyone.” you said, your voice soft but firm. “youre more than what people think. i see you. the real you.”

ni-ki looked at you, his lips parted as if he wanted to say something but didnt know how. his usual confidence seemed like a distant memory now, replaced by a quiet, raw sincerity that made your heart ache for him.

but to ni-ki, that was all he needed to hear from you, that was all he wanted from you.

acceptance.

ni-ki remained still for a moment, his eyes fixed on yours, as if searching for a hint of insecurity in your words. when he found none, a flicker of something softer passed through his expression. the tightness in his shoulders eased, but he still didnt smile - not in the way he usually did.

instead, he simple nodded, his voice barely across a whisper. “i guess…i have been waiting for someone to see me like that.”

the words were simple, but they carried a weight that you werent sure you were reading for. it was as if, for the first time, ni-ki was letting down the walls he had carefully built around himself, trusting you to catch him if he fell.

you didnt hesitate, you reached out, gently brushing your fingers against his cheek. “i see you, riki. just you. no one else.”

his eyes softened, the guarded look that had been there moments ago replaced with something much more vulnerable. the usual cocky grin was nowhere to be found, but there was something more meaningful in its place - a raw, unspoken gratitude.

slowly, ni-ki leaned forward, his breath warm against your face as he closed the distance between you. it wasnt fast, and it wasnt rushed. it was a quiet, tender movement, as though he was giving you the choice, the space to decide.

and for once, you didnt need time to think. you leaned into him, the kiss gentle at first, as if both of you were testing the waters - treading carefully. but as the kiss deepened, the walls between you both seemed to crumble further, and in that moment, you realised that despite everything - the doubts, the insecurities, the fear - you werent as different as you thought. you were both just two people trying to figure things out, finding solace in each other’s presence.

the world around you faded. the waves, the sand, the night - it all disappeared as ni-ki’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, as if he, too, had been waiting for something to finally feel real.

when the kiss ended, you both lingered in the stillness for a moment, breathing in the night air. ni-ki pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, a playful spark finally flickering back to life in his eyes.

“so…are we, like…boyfriend and girlfriend now?” he asked, his voice light but with a hopeful smile.

you blinked, surprised by the directness, but then you smiled, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “youre asking me?”

ni-ki raised an eyebrow, teasing. “well, im pretty sure i have earned it.”

you rolled your eyes but couldnt stop yourself from smiling, the warmth between you undeniable. “i guess so.”

he grinned and pulled you closer, the playful glint in his eyes still there, but there was something more sincere behind it now, “good, because im not going anyhwere.”

you leaned into him again, realising that whatever this was between you, it was real. no labels, no expectations - just the two of you, finally figuring things out together.

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