#thanks for the distraction I really really need this

[fear-less]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 she ignored my letter!

pairing: james potter x f!reader

➥ In which, James writes you a love letter and hides it into your luggage carrying your clothes, not knowing he put it in a pocket you never open.

Warnings: angst, fluff, james pov, this inspired by awae (aka the best show ever)

a/n: heyyy... i had sm fun writing this, can't wait to write the rest of this bc i literally LOVE anne with an e and this is inspired by it ofc!!!! anyways, im barely writing now..smh, its cause im reading manacled and its literally heart breaking... im also editing on ae and its so hard so im slowly learning😭 but i want to finish this mini series by next week!!

series masterlist ! - divider creds: i-mmaculatus & dollywons

James had liked you for a while now. He wasn’t quite sure when it started—maybe it was the way you laughed at his jokes, always the loudest in the room. Or perhaps it was when he’d catch you staring at him, your gaze lingering just a bit too long, thinking he was too distracted to notice.

With the Christmas holidays fast approaching, James knew he had to make a move. He had to let you know how he felt. If you didn’t feel the same, maybe the time apart over the holiday would make it less awkward. But he couldn’t let another term slip by in silence.

Knowing your love for all things old-fashioned, James decided there was no better way to confess his feelings than through a handwritten letter. It felt personal, genuine—something you’d appreciate. But writing it turned out to be harder than he imagined.

He’d written and discarded at least a dozen drafts, each one crumpled and tossed aside in frustration. Finally, after half an hour of agonizing over the perfect words, he settled on this version. It was short, straightforward, and sincere:

Dear, (Y/N)

I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a complete idiot. I’ve tried a hundred times, and every single attempt has been worse than the last. So here’s the truth—I’m hopelessly in love with you.

You’ve probably guessed I’m not great at being subtle. But what I’ve never been able to say outright is how much you mean to me. The way you laugh, the way your nose scrunches when you’re concentrating—Merlin, you make it impossible to focus on anything else. I want you to know that you’ve made me braver, happier, better. If you don’t feel the same, that’s okay—I just needed to get this off my chest.

Yours, James

He sighed deeply, folding the letter carefully before slipping it into an envelope. Your name was written on the front in his slightly shaky handwriting. Taking a steadying breath, he tucked it into the inside pocket of his robes. He’d leave it somewhere you’d find it tomorrow, just before you both left for the holidays.

As he lay awake that night, James tried to figure out the best way to deliver the letter. Should he hand it to you directly? No, that was too nerve-wracking—he’d probably end up babbling like an idiot. Maybe he could slip it into your bag and avoid the risk of witnessing your reaction.

The morning was crisp, the kind of cold that painted your cheeks red and sent little clouds of breath swirling in the air. On the platform, the train sat waiting, puffing out plumes of steam that mingled with the frosty air. It was alive with the sound of students saying goodbye and dragging their luggage over the cobblestones.

James walked beside you, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He was doing his best to appear casual, though every step he took felt heavier with the weight of the letter in his robe.

“Let me take that for you,” he blurted suddenly, nodding toward your luggage.

You blinked, surprised by the offer, but your lips curved into a warm smile. “Oh, thanks, James. That’s really sweet of you.”

He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but his ears turned a telltale shade of pink at your words. “What kind of bloke would I be if I didn’t help you out?” he mumbled, his voice tinged with nervous humor.

The two of you chatted as you strolled toward the train. You told him about your plans for the holidays—how you were excited to see your family, how your mum always made far too much food, and how you couldn’t wait to decorate the tree. James listened intently, nodding and laughing at all the right moments, even as his mind raced ahead to the task at hand.

Then, his opportunity came.

You turned away for a brief moment, waving at one of your friends across the platform. James acted quickly, pulling the envelope from his pocket and slipping it into the outermost compartment of your bag. His fingers brushed the fabric for only a second, but it felt like an eternity.

His heart was hammering so loudly he was certain it could be heard over the clamor of the platform. He straightened up just as you turned back to him, completely oblivious to what had just transpired.

“Thanks again for carrying that,” you said with a smile, your eyes meeting his.

James gave a small, lopsided grin and shifted your bag on his shoulder. “Anytime,” he replied, his voice steady despite the storm of nerves swirling inside him.

As the train’s whistle blew, signaling it was time to board, James knew there was no turning back now. All he could do was wait—and hope that when you found the letter, you’d read it and understand the words that had taken him so long to say.

It had been days since you’d left for the holidays, and James still hadn’t heard from you. Each passing day only worsened the sinking feeling in his chest.

Did you not feel the same? Did you hate him for ruining the friendship? Or worse, were you so disgusted by his confession that you couldn’t even bear to send him a letter saying so?

By Christmas morning, the knot of worry in James’s stomach had become unbearable. He’d stopped pacing and pretending not to care. He spent the early hours staring at the window, waiting for an owl that seemed as though it would never come.

But then, just as the first rays of sunlight streamed through his frosted window, he saw it—a familiar owl perched outside, clutching a small envelope in its talons. His heart leapt with a desperate flicker of hope. Maybe you’d only just found the letter. Maybe you’d taken your time because you wanted to write something perfect.

James hurried to open the window, shivering as the cold air rushed in. The owl extended its leg, allowing him to untie the letter. “Thanks, mate,” James murmured, absently offering the owl a treat before it flew off into the winter sky.

His fingers trembled as he opened the envelope, eager to see your handwriting. But his heart sank the moment he read the first line.

“Happy Christmas, James!”

No mention of his letter. No response to his confession. Just a short, cheerful note wishing him a wonderful holiday and apologizing for not writing sooner. You explained that things had been hectic at home and promised to catch up with him soon.

James felt his chest tighten, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. The hope he’d been clinging to was slipping through his fingers.

You’d ignored his letter.

You’d chosen to act as though he’d never written it at all, as if he’d never poured his heart out on that piece of parchment.

James scoffed, his grip on the letter tightening. Fine, he thought bitterly. If you were going to pretend his confession didn’t exist, he could do the same.

He shoved the letter onto his desk, glaring at it as if it were the source of his frustration. Deep down, though, he knew the truth: he didn’t want to ignore you. He wanted to write back, to ask if you’d found the letter, to make sure you weren’t upset with him.

But pride was a stubborn thing, and James Potter wasn’t about to let his vulnerability show again—not now.

As the snow fell softly outside his window, James sat in silence, staring at the letter and wondering if he’d made a mistake by ever writing to you in the first place.

When it was time to return to Hogwarts, James made no effort to find you. Normally, he’d scan the platform, pretending it was a coincidence whenever his eyes landed on you. This time, he couldn’t bring himself to look.

He saw you anyway, just briefly—standing near your family, your face lit up with that familiar smile. His heart leaped in his chest, and his legs almost betrayed him, ready to stride over and say something, anything. But he stopped himself.

Instead, James turned sharply, mumbling a quick goodbye to his parents before heading onto the train. He didn’t want to see you—not now.

The walk through the train felt heavier than usual. He knew exactly where his friends would be—the same compartment they’d claimed since their first year—but it felt like an eternity to get there. When he finally slid open the door, the familiar faces of Sirius, Remus, and Peter greeted him.

“Oi, Prongs!” Sirius called cheerfully, but his grin faltered when James slumped onto the seat next to Peter with a loud huff.

James leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. He could feel Sirius’s gaze on him, curious and probing.

“What’s got your wand in a knot?” Sirius asked, unable to resist.

“Don’t.” James’s voice was sharp, firm. It was rare for him to be in a foul mood, let alone snappish.

Sirius raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I won’t say a word.”

The tension in the compartment was palpable. The train rattled on, and the usual chatter of the four friends was noticeably absent. Sirius kept stealing glances at James, who sat brooding, arms crossed. Peter fidgeted nervously, while Remus flipped through a book, clearly uncomfortable with the silence.

Finally, about an hour into the ride, James broke.

“She ignored my letter.” His voice was low, bitter, but it shattered the quiet like a hex.

The others exchanged looks before Peter spoke hesitantly. “She really ignored it?”

“Yes, Peter,” James snapped, his tone sharp enough to make Peter flinch. Realizing what he’d done, James sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” Peter mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

“Maybe she didn’t see it,” Remus offered, his tone calm and rational. “What if it got lost in her luggage? Or someone else found it and hid it? Maybe you gave her another piece of parchment? There’s always a chance—”

“Moony, no.” James cut him off, his voice strained. “I double-checked. It was the right letter, in the right spot. And who doesn’t check their trunk full of clothes over the holiday?”

“Maybe she doesn’t,” Sirius said with a shrug, trying to lighten the mood. “You know, women can be unpredictable. Maybe she’s got a secret stash for random letters in her trunk.”

“No, she checks,” James said with certainty. “I’ve slipped plenty of things into her luggage before, and she’s always found them. She just doesn’t fancy me back.” His voice cracked slightly at the end, but he forced a small, bitter smile. “And it’s fine. I’ll get over it. I always do, right?”

The compartment fell silent again, the weight of James’s words sinking in.

Sirius leaned forward, a flicker of frustration in his eyes. “It’s not fine, James. If she didn’t fancy you back, that’s one thing. But ignoring you? That’s—”

“Don’t,” James interrupted quietly, his gaze fixed on the floor. “Don’t make it worse, Padfoot.”

Sirius bit back a retort and leaned back in his seat, muttering under his breath.

The rest of the ride passed more comfortably, but the shadow of James’s disappointment lingered. His friends cracked jokes and told stories, trying to lift his spirits, but even when he laughed, it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Deep down, James wondered if he’d ever stop wishing that you’d read his letter and felt the same way.

Hours later, everyone had gathered in the Great Hall. The enchanted ceiling reflected the dusky evening sky, and the buzz of students catching up after the holiday filled the room. Normally, James would sit with Sirius to his left, you to his right, and Remus and Peter across from him. It was a familiar arrangement, one you’d fallen into without question.

But tonight, James broke the routine.

He subtly nudged Peter into the spot on his right before sitting down, leaving the space where you’d usually sit conspicuously empty.

You walked in a moment later, scanning the Gryffindor table until you spotted your usual group. But when you approached, your steps faltered. Peter sat where you always did, looking apologetic but saying nothing.

Your eyes darted to James, silently questioning him, but he avoided your gaze, his attention fixed stubbornly on his plate.

Confused, you looked to Remus for an explanation. Out of all the Marauders, he was the one you trusted most to give you a straight answer. But Remus only shrugged, his expression carefully neutral, though the twitch at the corner of his mouth hinted at discomfort.

You scoffed, your chest tightening. First, James ignored you all through the holiday, and now he didn’t even want to sit near you? Fine. If he wanted to sulk like a child, you weren’t going to beg for his attention.

Without another word, you turned on your heel and walked further down the table, sliding into a seat beside your other group of friends. You forced yourself to laugh at their jokes and join in their chatter, but your mind kept wandering back to James.

At the Gryffindor table, James���s eyes flicked toward you more often than he’d admit. Every time he saw you laughing with your friends, his stomach twisted.

“Why is she acting like I’m the one in the wrong?” James muttered under his breath, jabbing at a piece of roast potato with his fork.

“Maybe because you’re acting like a prat?” Sirius replied, his tone laced with amusement as he leaned closer.

James shot him a glare.

“Look, Prongs,” Sirius continued, dropping the teasing. “She doesn’t know what’s going on. You didn’t even give her a chance to explain, and now you’re sulking like a first-year who lost his chocolate frog cards.”

“Explain what? She ignored my letter, Padfoot. What’s there to explain?” James hissed, though his tone lacked its usual conviction.

Remus sighed, setting down his goblet. “Did it ever cross your mind that maybe she doesn’t even know what letter you’re talking about?”

James froze, his fork hovering mid-air.

“Just talk to her, mate,” Sirius said, giving James a nudge. “Or don’t. But if you keep this up, you’re only making it worse—for both of you.”

James huffed, slumping back in his seat. The truth was, he didn’t know if he had it in him to face you just yet.

From across the hall, you caught the way James’s shoulders sagged, and for a brief moment, you considered walking over. But pride held you in place. If James wanted to act like this, fine. Two could play that game.

You and James hadn’t spoken in what felt like weeks. The once effortless connection you shared had been replaced with an awkward silence that weighed heavily on you. It wasn’t just James—it felt like the whole group of Marauders had grown distant, their usual antics and inside jokes missing their spark when you were around.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d done something to upset him. But what? You racked your brain for answers, replaying every interaction from the past few months. James had always been one of your closest friends—why was he acting so strange?

Charms class was the hardest part of it all. You always sat beside James, sharing notes, exchanging whispers, and stifling laughs when Professor Flitwick wasn’t looking. Now, you sat in the same spot, the chair next to you glaringly empty.

You tried to focus on the professor’s instructions, but your thoughts were louder than his voice. Scribbling aimlessly in your notebook, you hardly noticed when someone approached your desk.

“Are you alright?”

Startled, you looked up to see a boy with a blue-and-bronze tie standing beside you. His face was vaguely familiar—you’d seen him around in class but had never spoken to him.

“Yeah—yes, I’m fine,” you stammered, blinking in confusion. Why was he talking to you?

He gave a polite, slightly amused smile. “Well, can you move your stuff? I’m sitting here now. We’re partners for the project.”

“Oh!” Heat rose to your cheeks as you hurriedly shoved your books to one side. “Sorry about that. I didn’t realize.”

“No worries,” he said, settling into the chair beside you. “I figured you weren’t paying attention—no offense. But I was, so I’ll explain what Professor Flitwick said.”

You managed a small smile, relieved by his casual tone. “Thanks. That’s… helpful.”

While he began outlining the project details, your focus wavered, glancing at James out of the corner of your eye. He was across the room, seated next to a loud and enthusiastic partner who seemed to be trying desperately to get his attention. But James wasn’t listening.

His gaze was fixed on you.

There was a flicker of something in his expression—jealousy, maybe? Regret? Whatever it was, it made your stomach twist.

You quickly turned your attention back to your new partner, nodding along to his explanation, even if you weren’t entirely listening. You felt James’s eyes on you the entire time, but you refused to look back.

Across the room, James’s jaw clenched. His partner waved a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his trance.

“Oi, Potter! Are you even listening?”

“Huh? Yeah, sure,” James muttered, though his eyes drifted back to you moments later.

He hated this—seeing someone else sitting beside you, making you smile when that used to be his seat, his job. But he didn’t know how to fix it. The letter. The silence. The way he’d avoided you. It all felt too big now, too messy to undo.

Still, James couldn’t stop watching you, his heart sinking further with every laugh you shared with your new partner.

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[hongcherry]

pretty please (stain me red) || c.sc [2][m]

It's the night of your boyfriend's company award banquet and all you want to do is support him, but slurs from an attendee and your self-doubts begin to taint the night. Seungcheol offers to distract your mind in a way he's been wanting to do ever since he saw you getting ready earlier.

🍒 Pairing: businessWorker!Seungcheol x fashionDesigner!Reader (f) [Pretty Please couple] 🍒 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+)/Smut/Established relationship 🍒 Word Count: 3.7k 🍒 Warnings: Nicknames (Cherry, baby), dirty talk, breast play, spanking, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (be safe and stay educated!), rough sex, oral (m. rec)/face fucking, messy sex (!!!), gagging, squirting, cheol really likes reader's lipstick…, ultra soft ending 🍒 Author's Note: I didn't want you guys to wait too long so here's part two! And thanks again to @lovetaroandtaemin for beta'ing this! ♥️ You da best! Also, this has very minimal plot so if you just wanna read this part, go ahead 😉

pretty please masterpost | seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

part one

this blog is 18+. minors do not interact. plz & ty! (ageless/minors/blanks blogs will be blocked)

Seungcheol’s kiss is as desperate as a man seeking warmth after falling into a frozen lake.

“You looked so pretty tonight,” he mumbles into the kiss, walking you slowly backward from the door to his bedroom.

You smile and squeeze his shoulder blades in response.

The second he had stepped into his apartment, he had locked the door, tossed his keys in the bowl, and then hungrily captured your lips with his. You barely had enough time to set down his award on the entry table.

“The prettiest in the room,” he continues.

“Cheol,” you whine against his lips.

He chuckles and pulls away. His lips are slightly tinted from your red lipstick, which makes your desire grow. It’s a sight you never knew you needed.

“What? You don’t agree?” He smiles and cocks an eyebrow.

You bite your lower lip and shrug, not really agreeing but knowing Seungcheol won’t like your answer. And he doesn’t.

He tsks at you then leans down and lifts you over his shoulder. You gasp as your world gets turned upside down. Your hands land on his plush ass.

“Cheol! A warning next time?!” you huff halfheartedly.

He laughs and walks to his bedroom.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he asks, patting your ass on the way.

When you enter his bedroom, you expect him to toss you on the mattress, however, he walks past it and enters the bathroom instead. With careful hands, he lowers you to the floor facing him.

“What are we doing in here?” you ponder.

He pushes down the strap of your purse to grab it. You watch confused as he rummages through its contents.

“Did you leave something in there?” you ask even though you don’t recall holding anything for him. 

Seungcheol doesn’t answer and instead, lifts up your lipstick tube.

“Put this on,” he instructs.

Furrowing your brows more, you tilt your head.

“I’m already wearing it,” you say.

He hums and removes the cap.

“It’s faded,” he explains.

“Are we going out again?” you question and slowly take the lipstick from him.

“Just humor me, baby,” he says, grabbing your hips and spinning you to look into the mirror.

You give Seungcheol another puzzled look as you begin leaning over the counter slightly to reapply the makeup. Meanwhile, Seungcheol presses against your backside, making you feel his faint hard-on. He watches with rapt attention as you glide the product across your lips. Once done, you hold the tube up for Seungcheol to cap. He does so, then sets it off to the side.

“Want to tell me what this is about?” you ask.

He smiles, a hint of mischief in his expression. He cups your face with one hand and rubs his thumb against your cheek lovingly. 

He leans in to talk lowly in your ear, “Remember when I said your makeup was gonna be ruined tonight? I wasn’t lying, Cherry.”

Then his thumb glides against your lower lip, smearing your lipstick across your cheek. Your mouth parts in surprise.

“That’s just the start,” he says, then turns your face to kiss you roughly. Seungcheol glides his hand from your cheek down the column of your neck to squeeze your breast. His other hand soon joins in massaging your chest. His strong hands feel good on your soft breasts.

Seungcheol continues to kiss you as he reaches beneath the top of your dress to feel you directly. His fingers pinch and roll your nipples, causing your needy moan to get lost in his mouth.

You reach a hand back and start rubbing him through his suit slacks. Seungcheol nips at your lips in response, hips bucking into your palm. You can feel him get harder the more you rub and squeeze his clothed cock.

By the time he finally pulls away, you’re panting like a dog. He just smiles at you—lips redder from your lipstick—and adjusts the top of your dress so your breasts are exposed. He gives them one hard squeeze before moving your hand to rest on the counter.  

Seungcheol trails his hands up your arms and then down your back. He stops at your lower back and gently pushes you down. When you’re at the angle he wants, he trails one hand down to your ass while the other holds your waist. He gives your cheek one rough squeeze then smacks it.

You gasp as you’re jerked forward.

“You have no idea how badly I wanted to drag you into the bathroom and have my way with you,” he sighs. He reels his hand back and smacks your other cheek.

You bite back a moan and press your palms on the counter. The thought had crossed your mind too, but you resisted the desire. It wouldn’t have been an appropriate time.

“You know how many people stared at you tonight?” he wonders.

You shake your head. Sure, you had noticed two or three, but you didn’t consider that abnormal. People have been staring at you for years. You’ve gotten used to ignoring them—for the most part.

“It’s a good thing that event was for work,” he says, slapping your ass once more before grabbing your hips to pull you against him. His hips grind ever so slightly against your ass, pushing his growing erection into you.

You hold back the noises you want to make and stare at him through the mirror with want.

Seungcheol leans over and kisses the back of your head. As he trails the kisses down, he starts gathering up your dress. He slides the bunched-up fabric just above your ass. There’s no doubt he can see how wet your panties are.

He holds the dress up with one hand while the other glides between your legs. He slips his fingers beneath the dampened material and circles your entrance.

“I love how you’re already so wet, baby,” he says. “We’ve barely done anything.”

You hum and push your hips back for more. 

Seungcheol smiles, sliding one finger in as he leans over to connect your lips. You whine into the kiss.

Seungcheol pumps his finger a few times before adding another. He moves a little faster than he normally does at the start.

“Even if I wasn’t touching you, I can just hear how wet you are for me,” he mumbles against your lips. “Listen.”

His fingers slide in and out faster; the squelching gets louder. Embarrassment rises in your chest, but you also can’t help feeling turned on more by the sound. 

You moan and squeeze your legs together. Your hangs between your arms as Seungcheol switches movements back and forth, stretching your walls.

“Shit, Cheol,” you whimper.

Seungcheol retracts his hand and gives your ass another slap. The arousal on his hand leaves a wet spot on your cheek.

“I need to fuck you,” he nearly growls and quickly undoes the top of his suit pants. He slides them down enough to free his thick cock, rubs the tip along your slit, then slowly eases in.

You cry out as your eyes roll back, hips raising to meet him better. The slight pain from his cock stretching your hole makes you want to push him away, but you stay still because you know the pleasure will come soon. 

Seungcheol cups your neck and pulls you back so he can see you.

“Squeezing around me so good like always,” he groans in your ear as he bottoms out. He gives one shallow, rough thrust that makes you gasp.

“Do I feel good, Cherry?” he asks and rubs his thumb along your neck.

“Y-Yes,” you stutter.

“Have you been imagining this moment all night like I have? My cock buried in your sweet pussy?” he questions. You feel him twitch inside you. You like how just the thought of you can turn him on.

“Yes,” you repeat.

“Good.”

Seungcheol slides his hands down your sides and stops on your hips. He slowly pulls out halfway before slamming inside.

Your mouth falls open.

He does this two more times then picks up his pace and swiftly glides his cock in and out. He uses your hips as leverage, shoving you back as he thrusts forward. His big cock strokes your walls so perfectly that any thought besides Seungcheol fades away. Your focus is solely on how he feels between your legs.

“Nearly three hours of torture,” he huffs while still fucking you from behind. “Having to be near you and not able to touch you like I wanted to. All those eyes on you didn’t help.”

“Sounds miserable,” you mockingly say with a smile.

Seungcheol shoves his hips against yours and digs his fingers into your skin. Your smile disappears.

“Oh, you liked that?” he asks. “Were you hoping you’d drive me wild enough to fuck you in the bathroom?”

You bite your lip and push back against him.

“Naughty fucking girl,” he nearly growls. He slides out nearly fully and shoves his hips against yours harshly—trapping you between the counter and his big body. You try not to moan but fail.

“Wanted my cock that bad, huh? How about you show me that.”

Seungcheol pulls out, grabs your hand, and then the lipstick again. He tugs you from the bathroom into his bedroom. You follow on wobbly legs, forcing yourself to stay upright so you don’t fall.

He stops in front of his full-length mirror and undresses you; however, he leaves your heels on. Once you’re bare, he then lowers you to the floor. Your bodies are sideways to the mirror.

“Put it on,” he says and hands you the lipstick.

You don’t question him this time and turn to face the mirror, swiftly swiping on another layer. You cap and toss it to the side.

During that time, Seungcheol removes his clothes.

“Good,” he hums. “Now, show me.”

You almost deny his request, but decide against it. You’ve been just as eager as him. 

You shuffle closer, taking his heavy cock in your hand and silently marveling at his size. You lean in and kiss his shaft softly. When you pull away, there’s a red stain in the shape of your mouth. There’s something about it that makes your heart flutter.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol whispers above you.

Your eyes flicker up to see his mouth open as he stares down at the mark you put on him. That gives your confidence a boost, so you lean in and kiss his cock again.

“All mine?” you ask with a pretty smile.

“Yeah, baby,” he mumbles and sweeps your hair from your face. He cups the nape of your neck and slowly pulls you closer to his crotch. “It’s all fucking yours.”

Your smile widens. You pepper more kisses along his shaft until it’s covered with red. It’s a sight you store in your memory bank.

Seungcheol brushes his tip against your lips, and you give it a sweet kiss. He curses again, guiding you in more.

You smile and part your lips so his cock slides into your mouth. You can taste your arousal, which makes you squeeze your legs together. One hand raises to stroke what’s not in your mouth while the other rests on his muscular thigh.

You bob your head steadily, eyes drifting close as you focus on sucking his cock. Your tongue cups the underside of his shaft as you glide your head up and down.

Seungcheol’s breathing gets heavier as he cards his fingers through your hair. His hips buck to push deeper into your mouth, causing you to gag. Seungcheol moans and does it again.

Your hand on his thigh squeezes his muscles.

Seungcheol pulls away to let you breathe. He raises your chin to see you better and gives you a smile.

“You doing good, Cherry?” he asks, voice a little gruff.

You nod, pumping his cock with your hands as you catch your breath.

Seungcheol reaches down and wipes at the small string of salvia from your lips. You figure he’s smudged more of your lipstick as well.

“Can I fuck this pretty mouth?” he questions.

“Please,” you beg and kiss his shaft again.

He chuckles and shifts his hips to rub his cock along your lips.

“Using your manners like my good little baby,” he coos. “But you can do better.”

He moves away, making you frown. When you try to grab him, he simply holds you back.

“Cheol,” you whine.

“I know, baby,” he says with a faux pout. “You want my cock so bad, but I want to hear you ask for it.”

You huff and glare up at him.

He smirks, bringing a hand down and stroking his cock. Your eyes drop to watch him pleasure himself. While you love the sight, you want it to be your mouth around his thick dick and not his hand. 

“Fuck my mouth,” you mumble.

He chuckles and shakes his head, still pumping his cock leisurely.

“My pretty girl can do better than that, hm?” he taunts.

He moves closer and taps his tip against your mouth. Your lips part invitingly, but he doesn’t slide in. Instead, he traces your mouth slowly.

“I’m waiting, Cherry,” he says and gives your mouth another tap.

You swallow your pride and lock eyes with him.

“Pretty please, fuck my mouth, Cheol,” you say.

He smirks and pushes his tip against your lips to part them.

“That’s my girl,” he praises, then pushes his cock deep into your mouth.

Your eyes widen and your hands fly up to his thighs again, gagging. You didn’t expect him to go so far so fast. 

Seungcheol eases on his depth, barely hitting the back of your throat. He does this a few times so you’re used to it, then he pulls out.

“Relax and breathe through your nose,” he reminds you. “Tap my thigh if it’s too much.”

“Okay,” you reply.

When he smiles, it’s softer than before. He quickly leans down to kiss you. You follow him in a daze afterward, which makes him laugh and give you another kiss.

“Want your mouth for something else, Cherry,” he chuckles.

You bite your lip and nod. You sit back down, opening your mouth for him.

“Poor baby. Is this how badly you wanted me?” he questions, suppressing his moan. “You’re just willing to sit here with your mouth open, ready for my dick?”

He tilts his head and stares at you. He doesn't move or touch you; he simply admires. The more he waits, the more self-conscious you become. You begin to close your mouth and turn away, but Seungcheol quickly reaches out. He grabs your face and squeezes your cheeks enough to stop you. 

“Keep that mouth open, Cherry,” he murmurs. “Nice and wide to fit my cock.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. Seungcheol’s always been a talker during intimate times, but something about him tonight is another level. And damn, does it make you wetter. 

Once you do as you’re told, he slides between your lips again with a deep groan. His hands move to rest on your head.

He starts slowly, gradually getting deeper until your nose is against his pelvis. You hollow your mouth and force your breaths through your nostrils.

He stays still for a moment, petting your head softly. Then after a few more seconds, he starts thrusting. His grip on your hair gets rougher as he picks up his pace.

The sound of him pumping his cock in your wet mouth and your occasional gags fill the bedroom. It makes your arousal pool between your legs.

He continues for a few more hard thrusts then suddenly pulls out to give you a break. You gasp and take a big gulp of oxygen.

“Fuck,” he rasps. “Look at you.”

He angles your head toward the mirror. Spit falls from your open mouth, sliding between your breasts, while tears stream down your cheeks. Your red lipstick has smeared more from the last time you’ve seen yourself. You look like an absolute mess. Meanwhile, Seungcheol looks breathtaking with his partially damp hair sticking to his forehead and a coat of sweat covering his wide, fit chest.

Seungcheol slips his tip in your mouth, pushing it against the inside of your cheek so it pokes out. He keeps your head still so you can see yourself.

“So fucking beautiful,” he hums. He slides the tip across the inside of your cheek until it slips from your mouth with a pop. He pats your face with his cock, wetting the area with your drool.

“My messy baby,” he continues, then pushes his tip in and along your cheek again. “So pretty with my cock stuffing your holes.”

You whine at his words, shifting on the floor and staring at his cock in your mouth.

“You like that, Cherry? Hm? My cock fucking whichever holes I want?”

You hum, mind hazy and only filled with lust and desire. You’d probably give him lip if you were clear-minded.

He chuckles and turns your face from the mirror to his body. He pushes his cock deeper without warning, causing you to sputter. His hips snap against your face, throaty moans slipping from his mouth as he fucks you quickly. You can feel spit accumulate around your lips and dribble down.

Your throat and legs are beginning to ache, but you can’t focus on that due to Seungcheol using your mouth harshly.

“’M close, baby,” he grunts and grips your head. He starts guiding your head as he slams his hips forward. You squeeze your eyes shut and drop your hands from his thighs, body weak.

After a few fast thrusts, he pulls out as cum spurts from his cock. Seungcheol grips your chin to keep your mouth open. A glob of spit falls from your mouth as Seungcheol pumps his cock empty. Cum lands in your mouth and on your cheeks—only adding to your messy and ruined face.

“Fucking hell,” he shudders, breathing heavily. He falls to his knees and pulls your face toward his in a heated kiss—obviously not caring that some of his cum is still on your tongue. This kiss is sloppy and wet and full of love.

“So so good to me,” he mumbles between kisses. “Let me be good to you.”

He sits you down in front of the mirror, resting behind you. He spreads your legs and circles your clit quickly. Your hips jerk at his already-bruising touch.

His other hand gathers up the salvia that trailed down your body and spreads it across your skin and up to your chest. His hand gropes your breast roughly, pushing it up and kneading it.

His fingers on your clit trail down and push two fingers in.

“Cheol,” you gasp and jump in his hold.

Seungcheol pumps his fingers fast in your dripping pussy. Squelching sounds instantly fill in the room. You squirm and throw your head back against his body.

“No, baby; watch yourself,” he says and moves his hand that was on your breast to angle your head.

Your eyes fall on his hand between your legs. He adds another finger and increases his speed. It feels so naughty to watch him stretch you out with his fingers.

Seungcheol nudges your head to tilt to the side as he latches his mouth to your neck. He nips at the skin and sucks, eyes unwavering from your wet cunt covering his hand in your arousal. You’re so focused on his hands that you don’t even think to tell him no hickeys.

Seungcheol trails his other hand to circle your clit, causing you to shriek and shut your legs. He wastes no time in pulling them apart and hooking them over his so you can’t move. He resumes fingering your cunt and rubbing your clit roughly, getting you closer to your high quickly.

Your body begins to shake as your whimpers get louder and more frequent.

“Let go for me, Cherry,” he murmurs against your neck.

Your hands grip his biceps as you buck your hips and let the rope in your tummy snap. You’re crying out and Seungcheol’s moaning as you squirt. He continues to rub your pussy roughly, making the liquid spray in different directions. It covers the mirror in front of you and the inside of your thighs.

“Cheol, Cheol, Cheol,” you whine hurriedly, hips stuttering as your orgasm courses through you.

“Fuck, baby,” he marvels with a low groan, slowing his hand and moving his other to press you against him. He gently glides his fingers through your soaked folds, causing you to buck your hips and whimper.

He spreads your pussy lips to see your fluttering hole.

“Have you ever done that before?” he questions and slips one finger inside. You gasp and squirm again. He grins and removes his finger. He rubs his hand along your thigh, making your skin shine as he spreads your wetness.

You shake your head, slumping your body on his chest and hiding your face against one of his arms.

He chuckles softly and carefully unhooks your legs. He adjusts you so you’re sitting sideways in front of him then he gives you a gentle kiss.

“Don’t be shy,” he says and cups your face with both hands. “It was really hot.”

”R-Really?”

He nods and kisses your lips once more. “I want to see if I can make you do it again.”

Not sure what to say, you nod and tuck your chin, leaning against his chest. He laughs and wraps his arms around your body.

He gently rocks you back and forth, letting you both take a breather from everything that just happened.

Seungcheol’s about to stand up when you lift your head. Your eyes are a little glossy.

You’re not sure what causes it. Perhaps it’s from all the released chemicals coursing through your body, but something in your heart snaps. Emotions you’ve pushed down break through their barriers and you’re over your head with a multitude of feelings.

Trust. Affection. Love.

It’s the first time you’ve allowed yourself to actually feel what’s deep in your heart. 

You know you need to say it.

“I love you, Seungcheol.”

Seungcheol inhales a sharp breath. His body melts and his eyes soften. You know Seungcheol already knows this, but this is the first time you’ve initiated saying it. It’s rare for you to even say it at all.

Seungcheol squeezes you tightly and kisses you with so much passion, it makes your head dizzy.

When he pulls away, he looks over the moon with his big dimpled smile.

“I love you too, Cherry. So much.”

Taglist: @christinewithluv, @lockburn-castle, @maknae00, @morklee02, @kittyhui, @aeerio, @cherrylovescheol, @toplinehyunjin, @verogonewild, @ellllsia, @gyuguys

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

[winternightswren]

From Under The Desk

JaycexFem!Reader

Modern College AU

You have a paper due at midnight. A very important one. You absolutely CANNOT afford to be distracted.

Jayce distracts you.

Warnings: 18+ (this is basically just smut without plot tbh.) Reader is AFAB. Oral sex, cunnilingus, descriptions of genitalia. Small age gap? Like, only a year or two. Does that count? Idk let me know if i missed something <3

You scrubbed a hand across your face, exhaustion tugging at your eyes. It wasn't actually that late- it was only about seven pm. But, you'd stayed up all of last night writing this damned paper, only to go and spend a full day in class afterwards. And now here you were, hunched over your desk like a vulture pecking at your keyboard.

Getting the words down was the easy part. It was making them make sense that made your brain hurt. The amount of words you'd back-spaced over was probably comparable to the ones you'd actually kept.

You took a swig of your energy drink, wincing as the carbonation hit the back of your throat. You don't know why you bothered honestly; it wasn't doing anything for you at this point.

It was then that you heard the lock on the front door click, and the telltale shuffling sounds of someone entering your tiny apartment.

"I'm home!"

You heard Jayce's muffled voice through your bedroom door, but you made no effort to tear your attention away from your computer screen.

"Hon?" You heard him call again, "You home?"

More shuffling. Then, he knocked softly on the door before opening it. "Hon?" He repeated.

"Hey," you said automatically, fingers still flying across your keyboard.

"Hey, you." You could hear the smile in his voice, and it made your stomach flutter a little. "I picked up some takeout for dinner- I even got those little crab rangoons you love."

In your head, you meant to say something like, 'Wow! Thank you, my love. Im so excited to eat my favorite food with you!' But you didn't, leaving only an awkward pause in the back and forth you could barely call a conversation. You scrolled back to the top of your paper to re-read it, skimming for mistakes. Ah- there's a typo here. It should be "perceived", not-

"Hey, are you okay? Did you hear me?"

"What?" You bristled a little bit, annoyed to have been interrupted. You finally turned around to acknowledge him, trying to hide your chagrin. "Oh...sorry. Um, thank you. That was thoughtful."

It had taken a moment to force your eyes to focus on him, after staring at a bright screen for so long. When they did, you found he looked significantly more chipper than you felt. That made sense, you supposed. He had been freed from the confines of student life already, no longer bogged down by trivial things like homework and exams. Lucky bastard.

His eyes grazed across your face, then the rest of your body- and stopped when he found something interesting.

"You're wearing my hoodie,". He said. Irritation clawed at your stomach, and you swallowed the 'so what?' rising in your throat. You really just wanted to get back to work.

"It's comfy," you said instead, shrugging. "Sorry. I hoped you wouldn't mind. Do you want it back?" He shook his head, starting towards you.

"No, it looks good on you. Keep it on." He leaned down to peck you on the cheek, and you smiled tiredly at him. His hair was slightly tousled from a long day at work, and his chiseled cheekbones were smeared with grease. His cologne was mixed with the smell of coal and something vaguely chemical. Truthfully, what you really wanted was to yank off the hoodie, and his clothes too, and pull him into the shower with you- but there was no time for that now. You swiveled your chair around again, going back to your work.

"Im sorry," you said, "This paper is due in a couple of hours and I need to get it done. You should go ahead and eat if you're hungry. You don't have to wait. And please take a shower."

"What?" He teased, "You don't like the smell of hydraulic fluid?" He wrapped his arms around you and dropped his chin on top of your head. You found it difficult to keep yourself upright under his immense weight.

"No, I don't," you huffed. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude, but I need to focus on this. But once I'm done, I'm yours for the rest of the night, okay?"

The weight was lifted as he moved away from you, chuckling. "Alright, Alright. I'll leave you to it. God, it's kinda hot when you're mean to me. Maybe you should do that more often."

You swatted his arm, staring incredulously, and he ducked away as he laughed again. "I'm not being mean to you. I thought I was being pretty polite all things considered."

"You are mean to me," he whined. "You wont even let me give you my love and attentioonnn." He gave you fake puppy dog eyes, and you snatched a pencil off your desk, holding it up like you were going to chuck it at him.

"Get out," you warned. He held up his hands in surrender and backed out the door, eyes full of mirth.

"I bet you'd be nicer to me if you ate something."

You threw the pencil as hard as you could, but he shut the door before it reached him, and it bounced off the wood instead. You heard him cackling on the other side, before you heard his heavy footsteps move away.

You huffed, running your fingers through your hair. It was greasy, and in need of a good combing-through. You hadn't really had time for a shower yourself; but it could wait a little longer. You went back to your pecking.

Too soon, you heard the bedroom door open again. "Back already?" You asked mechanically.

"Already?" He repeated. "It's been like an hour." You glanced at the clock on the bottom corner of your screen. He was right. You'd been so focused that you didn't realize how long it had been.

"Whoops." You still didn't cease your typing.

You felt his weight upon you the same as before, forcing a wheeze from your lungs. "Why are you so heavy?" You huffed.

He chuckled, and you felt the vibrations against your back. The two of you stayed there like that for a moment, and you rubbed your eyes again. His warmth was comforting, and dangerously cozy. You were going to fall asleep at this rate. You shrugged, trying to get him to move off of you- but he didn't budge. Instead, he pressed his face into your neck, and his hair tickled your cheek. It was still damp, and you could smell his shampoo- like mint, and something darker, more earthy. You tilted your head to kiss the top of his own, breathing in the scent; but never taking your eyes away from your computer.

"Your food's getting cold, love." His breath tickled your skin, giving you butterflies again. "You should come eat something. You'll feel better."

"Can't," you muttered. Even if you wanted to, the caffeine you'd been chugging all day dampened your appetite, despite your empty stomach. He was probably right, but if you stopped now, you might not be able to start again. You had to capitalize on your focus; you couldn't afford to lose it.

Jayce brushed his lips against your jaw, pressing little kisses into the bone, and down your neck. He trailed a hand down your arm, the one opposite to him, and slipped it across your thigh, into the space between your legs-

'What do you think you're doing?" He stood up straight, taking his hand back. You glared at him, half annoyed, and half aroused. It was only now that you realized he wasn't wearing a shirt- just a pair of sweatpants that accentuated his girth in just the right way. You could see every muscle he worked so hard to build on full display, and your breath hitched. His tanned skin was just as damp as his hair, still shining with water. You wondered if he'd even bothered to dry off when he got out of the shower.

"I'm sorry. I can stop if you really want me to," he said gently. He looked down at you with something on his face you couldn't quite read. He wasn't frowning, nor smiling. His eyebrows were quirked upward just slightly, eyes half lidded. His expression was somewhere between lust and fatigue, you decided. Maybe he'd had a long day, too.

You blinked, trying to keep your eyes open. Maybe you didn't want him to stop- but you had to get this done if you had any hope of graduating next semester. You couldn't afford to fail this class. You looked away from him, feeling torn. In the corner of your eye, you watched him kneel beside you, and felt the weight of his head in your lap. He slid his hands around your waist, one of them between you and the back of your chair, and the other across your lap.

"You don't have to stop," you said quietly. "But I can't, either. This is important."

"Is that what you want though? For me to keep going, I mean?"

You nodded, swallowing thickly. "I do. I just need you to understand that I'm not ignoring you to be mean; I don't want to hurt your feelings because I'm not being an active participant."

He lifted his head, shifting himself between your legs. He had to duck and curl himself up awkwardly to fit himself underneath your desk- it was kind of cute, actually, watching him trying to fit his giant shoulders and long legs into such a tight space.

"I don't think that at all," he said when he was finally comfortable. "I know this it's important to you." He slid his hands up your thighs, letting one of his thumbs land on the spot where he knew your clit to be. He stroked it gently through the fabric of your pants, and you bit your lip to stop the gasp trapped in your throat. His other hand grasped your hip, massaging the soft malleable flesh of your curves with his thumb. He rested his cheek on your knee, looking up at you lovingly.

"You just seem so stressed," he said. "I wanna help you relax." He punctuated his words by swiveling his hand around, sliding his fingers under the curve of your pelvis. Well, 'relaxed' isn't the word you would use to describe yourself right now. A coil had wound itself inside your stomach, and your legs were tense with anticipation. In his hands, you were putty. You couldn't think straight anymore. You tried to focus, tried to keep your eyes on the prize. You were almost done here. Just a couple more paragraphs to go, and then you could-

"Oh-" you gasped involuntarily, something girlish and high pitched. Your face burned with embarrassment- you'd never made a noise like that before. But you couldn't help it- not with the way he was sliding his fingers into you now. You hadn't even realized he had managed to tug your pants down enough to expose you to him.

His other hand, previously on your hip, had slid up your sweater. It was on the small of your back now, pressing you forward. He drew his fingers out of you, slowly, and you bucked your hip forwards with a groan. He was moving so, so slowly. He was being so gentle and sweet, you thought your teeth were going to rot and fall out of your skull. He leaned forward, kissing your stomach, moving down to the side- to your hip, in the crease of your skin where your pelvis met your thigh. You shivered; his lips brushed you so lightly it tickled a bit. Your fingertips buzzed with electricity as you tried to keep typing. But then you felt his tongue sliding between your folds and you couldn't do it anymore.

You let your eyes flutter shut, letting him finally overtake your thoughts completely. You buried your face in your hands, trying to control your ragged breathing as he moved his tongue up, and down, slowly, gently. He pushed his tongue inside of you, lapping at you like he hadn't had a drop to drink in days. You whined, sliding a hand under the desk to grab his hair, to bring him closer to you. You could hear him panting, feel his breath against your pubic mound. His movements grew more desperate at your touch, ever eager to please.

You laid your other arm on the table, resting your head on it like a pillow. You really couldn't stop the sounds escaping from you now. Every gasp, moan, and whimper from you only seemed to further spur him, urging him to move faster. He alternated between fucking you with his tongue, reaching as far inside of you as he could manage, and moving back up to lick tiny circles around your clit.

You moved your hips with his rhythm, desperate for more friction as you felt yourself growing closer and closer to the edge. "Jayce," you whispered shakily, "I-I'm really- mmmfh- close-"

He didn't let up even a little bit, even when you leaned back, pushing his head against you so hard you were worried he'd suffocate. You were almost blinded by pleasure, the coil winding itself tighter and tighter- until it finally snapped.

You cried out his name like a prayer, over and over again as you shook. You clamped your thighs around his ears, wrapping your legs together over his shoulders. You tugged on his hair like it was a lifeline, feeling every crashing tidal wave of your orgasm in full force as your back arched away from your chair. You practically sobbed, your eyes watering. You couldn't help it. It was so good.

He finally stopped when he sensed you'd had enough, slumping in your chair like a rag doll as exhaustion racked your brain through the afterglow. He pulled back, his face shiny with spit and slick. You smiled at him, before letting your head flop back as you closed your eyes.

'That was hot," he whispered. You snorted, not opening your eyes. You felt his fingers brush your skin as he pulled your pants back up, and shivered slightly when the cold wet fabric of your underwear met your overly-sensitive groin. You pressed your toes against the floor to push your chair from under the table so he'd have room to get out.

"That didn't take very long, either" he teased. "You must have been pretty pent up." You heard shuffling as he stood, and you finally opened your eyes when you felt his lips brush against your forehead. You flicked his shoulder.

"You're just good at what you do."

He smiled, his eyes flickering across your face. You reached up to rub your thumb across his chin, trying to wipe off some of the remaining fluids. He grabbed your wrist and pressed a kiss into your palm before you could withdraw it, never taking his eyes off of you.

"Come eat something, please," he whispered. You sighed and glanced at the clock again, considering it- it was almost 9:15. There was still time.

"Alright, alright," you resigned. "Give me five minutes, and I'll be right there."

Jayce made a face you couldn't discern, and let go of your hand. "Okay," he said, and stepped out of the room.

He came back ten minutes later to find you still at your computer. "I couldn't wait any longer," he said- making you jump.

"Augh, I'm sorry, Jayce," you said- and you meant it.

"It's okay," he shrugged, "I had a feeling this might happen. You get so sucked in sometimes. It's endearing, actually."

He set two styrofoam boxes next to you, and opened another for himself. "I thought I would just bring dinner in here. Maybe I could help you edit? Make things go a little faster so we can get you in the shower?" He smirked, sitting on the edge of the bed. It was lodged into the corner of the room, with the desk beside it like an oversized nightstand. There'd be no room to move about, otherwise.

You cracked open the first box, choosing to ignore his quip, and your mouth watered at the sight of your favorite food inside. Ugh, even cold it smelled amazing. You shoveled it into your face with the flimsy plastic fork, newfound hunger making itself evident. You looked to Jayce, intending to thank him for the meal; but you found he was looking at you expectantly.

'What?" You asked through a mouthful of food.

"Did you want my help?"

Oh.

You swallowed.

"Sorry. Um, yes. That might be nice honestly. I could use a break."

He set his food aside, chuckling. "The first one wasn't enough?" He teased. You scowled, only pretending to be upset.

"Whatever man. Switch me places." You stood up to give him your chair, and he complied- though he had to pull the lever under the seat to lower it, to make room for his mile-long legs.

"Alright, let's see, here..."He squinted as he read your work, and you took the opportunity to admire him. God, he really was incredibly handsome. His long, calloused fingers looked enormous over your keyboard compared to your own. His bulky shoulders hunched forward, pulling the skin of his back taught over his muscles. You bit your lip, feeling your arousal coming back through your fatigue. He glanced at you, and you blushed when you caught him staring; as if you hadn't been together long enough by now that this wasn't embarrassing. But he still never failed to give you the warm-and-fuzzies so to speak. He smiled, laughing through his nose.

"What're you looking at?"

You twirled your hair with exaggeration. "Oh, yknow. Just this cute guy I have a crush on, or whatever," you flirted. He rolled his eyes, still grinning to himself.

"Eat your food, dork." He looked back to the screen, and you did what you were told.

It didn't take long. You wolfed down your dinner so fast you even surprised yourself. You stood to collect your trash, and kissed the top of Jayce's head before heading to the kitchen to dispose of it properly. When you came back, he was already standing up to stretch.

"It looks good to me," he said- with his arms over his head, his obliques were in full view and it made you just about weak in the knees. "I think it's ready to submit, if you're happy with it."

You thought about re-reading it one more time- just to be sure- but your brain was so foggy with exhaustion (and maybe some arousal). You trusted Jayce's judgement, too. He'd graduated summa cum laude last year, after all. You were sure he knew what he was talking about.

"Thank you, love. I really appreciate your help." You patted his chest with a weary smile, and sat down to submit it. When you were finally able to click your laptop shut, you were just about to collapse. You looked over to find Jayce already waiting for you in bed, and he opened his arms for you.

"C'mere, you," he crooned softly. You complied, shutting off the table lamp before you crawled across the blankets to meet him. He pulled them over the two of you, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead. You buried your face in his chest, breathing in the scent of mint and clean bedsheets. You suddenly felt self conscious, remembering you had forgotten to bathe.

You sat up. "I'm gonna take a shower real quick actually-" but he yanked you back down before you could move, burying his nose in your hair.

"Nooooo," he mumbled. "Stay with me."

"Jaaaayce," you whined, "I smell terrible. Wouldn't you rather I got cleaned up before bed?"

He didn't move, keeping you pinned between his arms. "Mmm, girl stink."

"You- what?" You sputtered, laughing at the absurdity. You tried to move, but he was already snoring softly. You couldn't tell if he was faking it or not, but you gave in anyway. You tangled your legs with his, letting his warmth overtake you and carry you to sleep at last.

[revelboo]

GUESS WHO CAME IN THE MAIL FROM THE EBAY PEOPLE U RECOMMEND. MY FAVE MY DARLING 🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣

I love him so much I want him in my pocket and take him everywhere. I want him to see the world. I'm so happy. I think I might be done now. Atleast for a bit so I can see who comes next. Might get some TFone guys or the new defender ones(? The tiny tiny ones) but I'm so happy I found this blog, your amazing works and blokees 💕💕💕💕 thank you !!!

Soundwave! I'm glad you enjoy my stories! They’ve given us so many Megs variants… I need some more Soundwaves and Starscreams now

Pretty much 🤣 Megs was an oops, though to be fair

Everything Is Alright Pt 118

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Servos lightly trembling feeling your stress and anxiety soaking into him to mingle with the almost manic fury radiating from Megatron and Starscream’s own outrage until he’s nearly overwhelmed, Soundwave swallows a growl. “No,” he says, voice calm and unyielding. Wrapping his servos around you, he opens his cassette compartment and gently eases you inside. Shielding you from what he suspects is coming with how volatile Megatron’s thoughts are right now. And it's a comfort to have you tucked safely inside him, helping ease the ragged hurt of that severed bond. It had felt like having his spark ripped out of him. Had known the Seeker wasn't happy that he'd tried to bond you, but hadn't realized the other mech would go that far.

• Did he really just nope and hide you? Sitting down, illuminated by his biolights and surrounded by the thrum of his spark, a part of you is thankful for the respite from the madness. Because your hands are shaking, just overwhelmed and you really want some alone time to try and process. Maybe cry at how ridiculous your life is. And it’s warm and safe inside Soundwave. “Thanks,” you whisper, unsure if he can hear you in here or not. Can still feel that jangling wrongness where Soundwave's bond had been as you press yourself into a corner of his cassette compartment. Letting yourself grieve that loss with no one staring at you.

• “Give me back my mate,” Starscream growls. Optics narrowing, he checks his wing to make sure that big brute didn’t bend it dragging him and to distract himself from the worry clawing at him. Had felt your pain echo through him and hadn't been able to do anything. Had been helpless to save you or himself and that can never happen again. Needs to be able to hold you in his servos, reassure himself that you're really okay. Doesn't even want to think about the fact that Megatron stole his sparkling and bonded you while you were helpless even if it was to save your life. And his. Doesn't want to owe that mech anything. Denta gritting when Soundwave just folds his arms across his chassis and stares him down. And he can pry that stupid cassette door open if he needs to. Starts forward only to hiss when Megatron seizes him by a wing. Again.

• Pulling until the Seeker leans so far one leg kicks out for balance, Megatron smiles down at Starscream. Because all of this is his fault. His selfishness. He’s sparked because the Seeker had severed Soundwave’s bond and hurt you. “Leave our pet alone. I think we need to have a little talk anyway. Just the three of us.” Ignoring Starscream's furious expression, he releases him and sits on Soundwave's berth. Trying to get his temper under control when he just wants to wring the Seeker's neck. Rip his still pulsing spark from his chassis. And he can't. Can't lay a servo on the mech to do any real damage. Killing Starscream might kill you. And because he's fully bonded to you, him as well. Maybe you'd fully bonded to him on purpose as a way to ensure he couldn't hurt your other mate. Wants to be furious, but he hadn't felt any scheming when he'd been tangled in you. "No one is to find out that we can spark a human or that I'm sparked." Not until he can figure this out. Because yes, it's a chance at saving their race slowly declining race, but if it gets out, there's the question of who the sire is and the Pit will freeze over before he lets it get out that he has Starscream's sparkling. Still can't understand humans and their alien weirdness. You're the carrier, you were supposed to stay sparked. Not pass it to him.

• Servos pressed protectively against the door to his cassette compartment, he croons softly to you, trying to soothe away your turmoil. Lulling you like he would a cassette. Aware that they're both staring at him when he lifts his head and he stares them both down defiantly, daring them to say anything. "Hurt our mate instead of protecting," he says, attention fixing on Starscream. Tries so hard to be the one in control, to be calm and rational, but he'd lost it when the Seeker had torn through his bond. And why? Because he was jealous? Didn't want to share you? Just callously lashing out without realizing there would be consequences. "Keep hurting our mate."

• "Our mate," Starscream hisses, angry and upset at the truth in that accusation. Because he had hurt you trying to free you. And even now, he's not sure if he'd done it to protect you or to keep you to himself. Because you were supposed to be only his. To love only him. You're all he'd needed or wanted. So why hadn't he been enough for you? "You're not my Trine. Not my brothers. You seduced my mate." And Megatron had stolen his future. Denta bared, his wings flare out before dropping. "I was happy."

• Servos pressing to his head, Megatron looks from Soundwave to Starscream. "At this point, it doesn't matter who screwed up the worst. You're fully bonded. I'm fully bonded. Soundwave will be, too." Snarling when Starscream opens his mouth to protest, he looms over the Seeker. "Soundwave, too. Primus, knows our poor pet will need a calm voice in all this. Safety." Pointing at Soundwave when Starscream hisses, Megatron thumps him in the chassis with the end of his cannon. "Where is the human right now? Hiding from both of us with Soundwave. And I swear to Primus if I could blast you in the face for getting me involved in this stupidity, I would without hesitation." Thumping him again to make the Seeker stumble back, Megatron's servos curl into fists. "It's divine comedy that I'm now tied to you for the rest of my existence."

• "Or our mate's. Humans don't live that long, Lord Megatron," he blurts, trying to hurt the other mech. And Starscream freezes as Megatron's optics narrow. Because it's something that has occurred to him more than once. Bond mates bond for life. One following the other in death and he'd known how short your life was when he'd claimed you. Willingly made that sacrifice to spend what time you have with you. But Megatron didn't know and a petty part of himself is almost gleeful about the blank expression on the warlord's face up until Megatron grabs him by the jaw, servos squeezing. 'How short?' Megatron snarls.

Previous

I finally gave up and did an inbox cleanse… but I kept quite a few still as drafts. I just discovered the TransArts Tarantulas figure and he's so pretty. And so, so out of my price range lol

[nickfowlerrr]

once more with feeling

pairing: professor!bucky barnes x curvy!actress!reader (reader is not a student)

warnings: mdni. no smut. flirting. i’d label this as soft horny if that were a thing lol. edward/guy moratz makes a short appearance. not much else really but self-indulgence at its finest. reader is probably minimum twenty five but you can imagine whatever age 21 and up you'd like and it should read alright.

words: 5185

notes: this was originally going to be a professor bucky x reader fic but then i got the idea for auditioning reader and then i thought oh! what if i wrote for my latest obsession - edward/guy! so then it was gonna be guy x actress reader but then i realized i kept picturing bucky and i’ve missed writing for him so then it changed again into professor bucky but now with actress reader and that’s where i landed with it even though i think this would work so well with guy as our guy and truth be told upon rereading myself i did start to picture him instead of bucky ha but ANYWAY this is buckys fic but if you wanna picture guy that works pretty well too 🤭 writing this was a nice distraction from the craziness of life lately and i hope you enjoy it. also just to say it - if you haven’t had the chance to watch a different man yet, you absolutely should. it’s great.

pls lmk your thoughts! i’d love to hear what you think. thank you in advance for reading! as always, comments and reblogs are so appreciated and more than welcome. 🩵

Goosebumps have risen all over your skin as you sit in the uncomfortable auditorium seat. Your legs are freezing thanks to the dress you don; despite its length, the fabric doesn’t provide much warmth and you can’t help but shake just a touch as another chill comes over you. You wrap your arms as tightly as you can around yourself but it too does little to help. The shrug cropped cardigan keeps your arms covered but the cold still chills - even inside the walls of this classroom auditorium.

This was a stupid idea, you accept far too late.

Granted, your planned outfit originally saw you in lined leggings to help fight the cold of the season, but after your little trip down the stairs on your way here - despite having held the skirt of the dress up to avoid such a fall to begin with! - you decided to toss the ripped and coffee soaked leggings and keep on instead of doing what the universe clearly was screaming at you to do: Go back to your apartment, take those god forsaken heeled shoes off, and put on something simpler. You were trying too hard.

Maybe you were. But you couldn’t care. You needed this. And when do you get to wear a dress like this on the daily? It fits the mood and works for the role without being a costume. You may feel a little uncomfortable, you don’t wear dresses out often, but you don’t think you’ve really made the wrong choice.

You were last on the audition sign in sheet so thankfully no one would be left to watch you the way you’d just studied the twelve other girls reading for this role.

They all dressed casually, had book bags with them, it was obvious they all attended this school. And here you were! A college dropout, overdressed in comparison, and clearly out of place.

Ah, you’re getting too in your head again. Always looking for a reason why something won’t go your way. But you’ve been working on that, and calling yourself out seems to help.

You take a deep breath as the last girl clears the stage and the casting table speaks amongst themselves.

You haven’t been able to see any of their faces, only the backs of their heads. You aren’t sure if there are students or faculty at the table with them but you figure it doesn’t really matter.

The casting call said all were welcome to audition - student or not. The location was only at the college because of renovations on the theatre in the city.

…It did say that, right? You’re not auditioning for a college show, right?

Your heart begins to pick up speed as you worry. Did you read it wrong? Were you making things up? You scramble for your phone and as you pull up the email the city theatre sent out last week, your name is called.

You don’t have the chance to reread it before you shut your phone off and tuck it away in your bag, placing it on your seat as you stand. You take a breath as you smile as confidently and friendly as you can and make your way down to the stage.

“That’s me,” you say as they watch you.

Finally you’re able to see their faces and as you make eye contact with each of them you can feel them sizing you up. Three people sit at the folding table before the stage and one man sits a bit further back in the second row of auditorium seats. He has yet to look up from his book and you realize you hadn’t noticed him at all earlier.

A younger man at the casting table, no more than 30 if you’d had to guess, tilts his head as he watches you ascend the few steps to the stage.

“So,” he states your name again, “do you attend classes here?”

“No,” you answer with a small shake of your head, “no I’m not a student.” You work to maintain your easy smile as you feel all eyes on you.

The man nods and turns to speak to the man still sitting and reading behind him. “Well, Mr. Barnes,” he gets his attention finally, “no pressure to stay. All the students have been seen, you’re free to go. This is the last audition for the day then we’ll be out of your hair.”

“Until tomorrow when you’ll take over my auditorium again,” he rumbles lowly as he stares at the man who is still looking at him.

You swallow hard as you do the same. His eyes are bright despite his obvious annoyance, his dark hair pushed back as he tries to keep it out of his face, only a couple silver strands shining through the dark chestnut brown; the stubble that covers his jaw adds to his air of gruffness - the spot of gray near his chin adding to his appeal. He’s tall, you gather as your eyes move down his body, his long legs. He wears dark slacks and a baby blue button up dress shirt tucked into his pants. The sleeves are rolled up his forearms and the top couple buttons of his shirt are undone, giving just a hint at his chest hair and the chain that hangs around his neck.

You realize you’re staring as you hear the voice of the younger man responding to Mr. Barnes, but you don’t hear what he’s saying as you force yourself to look away. Your eyes blink up and you’re caught. His blue eyes are on you, brows furrowed and his expression unreadable. You quickly look away and pretend you weren’t doing a thing as you wait for them to give you the go ahead.

Some more words are exchanged as they seem to try and appease the man whose classroom they are in. You’re not entirely paying attention to the conversation as you run your lines in your head for the millionth time.

You know the words. You know the part. You’re not worried, necessarily. But you haven’t booked a single thing in the past eight months and to say that hasn’t shaken your confidence in yourself even just a little bit would be a lie. But you’re getting back to your roots. You’ve missed the theatre. It was and will forever be your first love. This is your first stage audition in a while though, and your first experience with this theatre. Since moving to the city, you swore you’d audition for one of their shows but just never got around to it as your focus shifted to film. This is your time now. Is it going exactly how you’d envisioned it’d go? Well, you’re standing in a university campus auditorium instead of the stage at the Fervent Fires Theatre to audition, so, no. But that’s okay! You have a good feeling about this. And as you stand here, you feel more and more relaxed. It’s kind of bringing you back to your high school days - the annoyed teacher having to share the auditorium with the annoying theatre people. It’s funny.

And after seeing the other girls audition you really don’t feel too stressed. Most of them were late teens auditioning for Elmire. Despite the fact you played her in your late teens, too, that was simply because the production was full of other teens and young adults. You’re definitely more of the right fit even now. You’ve seen some of the theatre's productions before and who and how they tend to cast. Granted this is second day auditions and everyone else who has been seen might be in your league, but you won’t dwell on who you may be compared to - and you kind of needed the confidence boost today.

You take a breath and remind yourself you know what you’re doing. Whether you get a callback or not, just being on a stage again, acting in front of people again, you’ve needed this. It’s good.

You come back to yourself, out of your head and more at ease and hear Mr. Barnes as he speaks.

“And I appreciate being ‘free to go’ but I’m fine right where I am. Seeing as how this is my classroom, I’m sure that won’t be a problem.”

“Oh, no, of course not. I just meant that if you wanted to go, you were free to, are free to, do, ya know, whatever you want. We were under the impression you were required to be here as a faculty member during student’s auditions, but, uhm, yes, of course. We aren’t trying to push you out or anything,” he smiles before nervously clearing his throat and turning back to face the table. He shuffles around the papers before him and you see him pull your headshot and resume to the front of his stack, grabbing his notes and pen before turning his gaze to you.

“Alright, sorry about that. You can start whenever you’re ready.”

Their eyes are all on you. The casting table, and the man behind them. He’s set his book down next to him, has his hands folded in his lap as he sits back in his seat, casual and intent all at once, while his brilliant blue gaze is set right on you.

-

The audition is a blur, it goes by so fast. As you thank them for their time, you’re surprised when they offer you more information they hadn’t given out before.

“Callbacks will be next Tuesday and they’ll be at the actual theatre. We’ve been under construction all month but should be good to go next week. We appreciate you taking the time to come audition here, we know it’s a little out of the way in comparison.”

“Not a problem at all, it actually isn’t too far from me,” you smile.

“Good, well, keep a look out for an email with more details and…” the director on the end of the table looks up to you as if she’s catching herself from revealing a secret, then sighs, “ah, screw it, you’re definitely on the callback list,” she smiles, “we’ll see you there.”

“Amazing,” you breathe, “I’m looking forward to it. Thank you again, so much,” you can’t help your grin as you walk closer to the steps of the stage.

The casting table packs their things as you walk past them back to where you were sitting before. You’d left your bag and half drinken coffee so you make to go get it. As you pass the first few rows, you feel Barnes’ stare again, this time only fleeting as his name is called from the young man who spoke to him before.

“This table?”

“You can leave it,” he states, sounding bored.

“Okay. Thank you again for letting us use the stage, we really do appreciate it.”

You don’t hear him reply as you hear the casting team leave out the door.

The realization you’re the last one left intruding on this man has you hurrying up.

Until you hear his voice again.

“You were good.”

You turn at the compliment, wide eyed as you see him coming closer up the steps. Your heart seems to skip a beat and you wonder what he’s doing until he bends down a few rows before you and picks up an empty coffee cup someone must have left earlier.

You’re caught a bit off guard but force your mouth to work after a second, “Thank you.”

“Yeah,” he nods as he stands back up straight. You watch as he tosses it easily into the trash can at the bottom of the stairs before he turns back to look at you again.

You were right. He’s tall, and somehow even more attractive than you’d originally thought now that you’re seeing him even closer.

“I’m no director, but from what I’ve seen yesterday and today, if I was casting, you’d be it.”

“Oh,” you feel your face warm despite how cold the auditorium still is, “that’s,” you laugh a little under your breath, “that’s really nice to hear, thank you.” You have to look down as his gaze is just a little too much for you right now. You don’t need to fall down another set of stairs today and if you let yourself get lost in those ocean blue eyes of his, you’re almost certain you will.

“You seem more shy off stage than you do on,” he comments, taking another step up the stairs, another step closer to you.

“Yeah,” you titter nervously, “um, I’m an actor, ‘m pretty good at faking it when I have to.”

He raises his brow at your unintentional innuendo and immediately you catch yourself. You feel like you’re on fire and you see something in his eyes, almost like he’s working himself up to reply as he takes the last step he needs to be on the same level as you.

“You fake it a lot?”

Your lips move as if you have words to speak but nothing comes out as he stares at you and you stare back.

God, he smells good. And he’s so tall. And muscular. And pretty.

You blink as you try to break yourself free from this trance.

Is he hitting on you? You don’t even know this man’s name and yet there’s a fluttering in your tummy at the way he’s eyeing you. His gaze roves down your body, over your soft curves that are accentuated by the corset dress hugging you. His tongue darts out as he wets his lips seemingly without thought and that familiar desire that’s been plaguing you the last six months since your breakup has you fidgeting where you stand. He’s so effortlessly hot and the thought of getting on your knees right here and now for him hits you out of nowhere and only burns you further. Wow, where did that come from?

You haven’t been with anyone since you ended things with Nick, and you may be horny, but you’re not desperate… Are you?

You swallow hard and extend your hand to him, offering him your name as you do. He smiles with a deft chuckle, looking from your hand back up to your eyes before he takes your hand in his, seeming to ease some tension in him you hadn’t noticed before. Maybe not tension, maybe anxiousness? But no, that couldn’t be it. His smile is so easy there’s no way the word confident wouldn’t be in your top choices to describe him.

“James,” he supplies as you shake his hand. His big, warm hand that you can’t help but imagine the weight of if he were to place it on your waist. He squeezes you just a bit and another wave of your sudden desire rolls through you.

“Nice to meet you,” you say, sounding a lot more sultry than you ever intended. His lips quirk and he takes a second before he responds, again, you get the funny feeling he’s working himself up to say what he does.

“Can I be honest with you?” he asks bluntly, waiting for your nod before he continues. “I saw you staring at me when you were on stage.”

Okay. Ha. Wow. You’re so hot you wouldn’t be surprised if steam was coming off your cheeks. God, you could just explode from your mortification at his words. Is he really calling you out like this, right to your face? Your cheeks are burning and you don’t know what to say. You suck your lips in your nervousness as you inhale a breath through your nose, letting your lips go as you suck your teeth when you release them. You look down as your tongue runs along the edges of your teeth. A nervous habit when you’re at a loss for words as you let out a breathy titter at being caught and having it brought up.

You hear a light laugh from him before your breath is stilled when he gently touches your chin, his touch warm as he tilts your face up so you’re looking at him once again.

You’re stalled in a sort of awe as his eyes seem to twinkle at you.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed,” he assures you, his voice smooth as silk, “I was staring back.”

The soft smirk on his lips lights you up as you unthinkingly wet your own. In any imagined scenario you would never have thought you’d be so receptive to a stranger coming on this strongly - so boldly and up front. But here you are. Receptive as hell. There’s something about him, about his approach, that has you even more attracted to him than you were at first glance…er, stare. His voice, his attitude, the way he’s looking at you. As if he knows exactly what he wants, and he’s going for it. As if the very thing he wants right now, is you.

“Your eyes alone are captivating, but there’s something else about you,” he muses, “you got on stage and it was like I couldn’t look away.”

You almost have to force yourself to take a breath before you can talk. “The dress,” you quip with a small shrug.

“The dress,” he looks down at your body once more, a funny fluttering setting your core alight under his gaze, “well it definitely helped. It’s nice,” he compliments, his hand reaching to touch the fabric and grazing your hip. At his touch his eyes flick up to gauge your reaction and, seeing what you’re sure is a dreamy like haze, he goes on. “Look, I have to teach a class here in half an hour so I’m just gonna cut to the chase,” he says, a hint of an east coast accent slipping in and becoming clearer in his voice as he speaks, “I think you’re gorgeous. And I think you might think I’m not so bad myself,” he half smiles as his lips twitch. “I know this is forward,” his eyes meet yours once more, “and there’s no expectation here.”

Your brows raise despite yourself as you wait for him to go on. He licks his lips again and takes a step closer to you.

“Do you wanna have sex with me?”

You inhale sharply as you pause, your lips parting with the breath.

Weirdly some far off part of you was kind of expecting that was where this was leading, but in the very same breath, you really were not expecting him to say that. Your mouth goes dry and your mind goes blank as you try and process his words. You know your immediate, no thought involved answer. But surely, this calls for some thought, doesn’t it?... It’s not like anonymous sex isn’t a thing, it’s just never been your thing. But you do have the rest of the day free and you’re riding on a kind of confidence high at the moment, and god is this man tempting.

A small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he stares at you, studying you and waiting for your yes or no.

“You do this a lot?” you ask instead.

He breathes a soft chuckle, “Never, actually,” he shakes his head, “but I’ve been out of the game for a while, recently been told I need to put myself out there, and I guess I don’t really know how to be anything other than direct these days.”

“Hm,” you look into his bright eyes, a sincerity there you don’t find in people often these days, “I guess I can appreciate that.”

“Is that a yes?”

Fuck it, you think. You’ve been pushing past your normal comfort zones all day. What’s a little sex with a hot stranger? …Right? You’re seconds away from saying yes, how could you not, you egg yourself on, but you figure you should make this as clear as you can. Not that his answer has much chance of changing yours.

“Is this just sex? Or…” you trail off.

“At the very present moment,” he specifies, “just sex.”

You nod in easy understanding, readily taking it for what it is, but he continues on.

“And if you wanna leave it at that, we’ll leave it at that, but if you’re interested in dinner later tonight, too, I’d be glad to buy. Pick you up and everything.”

“Oh, what a gentleman,” you simper with a titter you can’t suppress. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Mhm,”

“Sex?”

You nod with a smirk as he closes the gap between your bodies.

“Right now?” he adds again, getting the same response as you smile against his lips when he leans in closer.

He kisses you. You’re immediately lost to him as his lips touch yours, his stubble tickling your soft skin. It’s surprisingly tentative, slow and soft at first, like he’s testing the waters between you. After a long moment, he decides to pull away, not too far, only parting for a split second. You're struck by the fleeting feeling of his lips being on yours, it steals your breath as you mindlessly lean into him immediately looking for more. Your eyes meet again, there’s a glimmer of shared recognition and you know he feels the same, and then his lips are on yours even more hotly. You’ve always thought people were dramatic when they spoke about having sparks with someone, that it wasn’t a real experience, just hyperbole… exaggeration, but you’re realizing now you just hadn’t ever experienced it before. That spark, that zing, it is real. It must be, because as crazy and sudden as it is, you think you have it here.

His hand comes to hold your head, keeping you close as he leads you. You might be embarrassed by the way you melt into him if you were thinking of anything other than how good his touch is and how perfect his lips seem to meld with yours.

You’re filled with a thrilling excitement you don’t know you can compare to anything you’ve felt before. This is new and nice and as the kiss deepens, your nerves turn from jittery butterflies in your belly to a smoldering desire that burns lower and lower. His firm body is pressed to your soft one and his free hand falls to the tail of your back, holding you closer and keeping you there against him before his hand snakes to your hip, wandering up your curves as he feels as much of you as he can. Your own hands are against his stomach as you chase his kiss, fingers fisting the fabric of his button down shirt.

James nips at your bottom lip and you give him entry without a pause, his tongue slipping in your mouth as he kisses you fervently, like something out of a movie. You’ve never been in a situation like this, and you can say with certainty you’ve never been kissed like this either.

You let your hands slide up his torso until you find the first button. As if you’ve done it a million times, you easily begin the tedious task of unbuttoning each one - though you take your time, not wanting to break any as you’re still caught in his hold, still lost in his kiss.

You hate having to break away but you need a breath and despite the loss of contact with your lips, James’ continues to travel along your skin. From your cheek to your jaw and down your neck as you angle yourself to allow him more access, all the while your fingers do their work and your breathing turns heavier. Once the buttons are undone you pull the tails of his shirt from his pants. His hands are still on you, feeling you as he kisses your delicate skin.

Your hands stabilize yourself by holding his sides as he yanks you closer to him still. He’s much thicker than he looked, you realize as you touch him. Your hands wander up his back, wanting to get his undertank off as soon as humanly possible so you can really feel the muscles there.

He brings an arm around your waist and his other hand glides down your back until he gets to your bottom, groaning in your neck as he squeezes you there.

“Buck?”

A loud voice breaks the trance the two of you have been under and causes you to jump as you hear the doors closing and footsteps coming around the side staircase, bringing a different man into view.

You’re startled, and James gallantly moves you just behind him despite your still fully clothed state. You’re still grateful though, you know you must look a little mussed, your cardigan falling down your arms and James’ undone shirt hardly producing any air of innocence about what was unfolding just moments ago.

“Oh, sorry,” the man starts with inquiring eyes, looking between the both of you. He’s just as tall as James and has eyes just as blue. He’s clean shaven, though and not as bulky. Still, they look like they could be brothers. “Professor?” he asks, “Am I interrupting something?”

“She’s not a student, Guy,” James responds, annoyance clear as day in his voice. “I’m not Drysdale.”

“Right,” Guy says on a light, breathy laugh, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He seems uncomfortable at the mention. You see him as he eyes James’ still undone shirt.

“What do you need, Guy?” James asks firmly, getting his eyes back on him.

“It can wait,” he brushes off, “just wanted to say thanks for letting the theatre use the stage again, we appreciate it.” His eyes flick to you and he seems to make a connection. “Elmire?”

Your eyes meet his in surprise, “Um, yeah,” you nod with a small smile, shifting your weight from one leg to the other, arms crossed over your chest.

“Tartuffe,” he gestures to himself with a smile of his own. You suddenly recognize him and take a step forward.

“Wait, did I see you in Death of a Salesman the other month?”

“Yes,” he smiles even more sincerely now, “yes, it’s the year of the classics at the theatre,” he chuckles.

“Right, yeah, you were incredible. Really great performance,” you compliment him.

“Thank you very much. I heard good things just now about your audition, I’m assuming you’re -,”

James interrupts Guy by supplying your name himself, causing you both to look at him. You fight a smile at the sound of it on his lips.

“Well then,” Guy looks back toward you, clearing his throat a bit, “I will be seeing you at your callback,” he turns to James, “and I will be seeing you in the office later.”

He takes a step back, “It was nice to meet you, and thank you again, Bucky.”

The name catches your attention as Guy walks off and James turns back to face you.

He sighs as he looks at you, reaching for your hand which you allow him to take.

His touch is deceptively delicate and you can’t pretend you don’t like it.

“Bucky?” you question. He meets your gaze and gives a sheepish half smile.

“Nickname.”

You nod, “Ah. Makes sense,” you lilt, holding his eye. “Suits you.”

“You can call me Bucky if you’d like. Like the way it sounds when you say it.”

You huff a laugh, looking away. He continues on, “I’m sorry for that interruption, I uhm,” he let’s go of your hand and moves to start buttoning his shirt back up, “I think we’re gonna have to try this again later,” he pauses, glancing back to you, “if you’re still-,”

“I am,” you smile, cutting him off.

He finishes tucking in his shirt and then immediately takes another step closer to you.

His eyes are scrutinizing in the best way as he takes your face gently in his hands, your own coming to hold his wrists; his bright gaze shining into your own. It feels intimate but strangely…right.

“I guess I should be thanking Guy,” he muses. Your brows furrow in unvoiced questioning. His lips quirk at the face you make. “I was taking the advice of someone I’d never normally take advice from being so forward with you. Honestly, it’s not really me,” he admits, admiring the soft smile of your own gracing your lips at his words. “I’m more of the courting type.” You laugh brightly at his choice of words as he smirks. “Old fashioned, I know.”

“No, that’s..That’s good. More my speed. I was uh, stepping a little ways out of my comfort zone with this myself.”

The want that had been burning between you two wasn’t exactly boiling over at the moment, but despite the space between you now, it was still there... Call it a low simmer.

He pulls you closer as you wet your lips and his nose brushes yours. You’re certain he’s about to kiss you and your eyes flutter shut but instead, Bucky pulls away. He lets you go as he bites his own lip and you both hear the opening of the door again before you hear multiple footsteps follow in.

“My class is starting soon. But,” he gets his phone from his back pocket and hands it to you, “we’re still on for dinner?”

You take his phone with a demure smile, feeling somewhat grateful for the shift in direction, and send yourself a text message, saving your contact in his phone before handing it back, his fingers grazing your own. “I’d really like that.”

Students begin to file in and get seated around the auditorium as you stand with Bucky.

You turn to grab your bag and your coffee cup, then face him again. You glance around and notice you’re still relatively alone, most of the students have sat toward the middle of the auditorium, and no eyes seem to be on you, but you keep your voice low anyway.

“And I do get it if you really want to go slow here, but, if you want to…ya know, try this,” you raise your brows, hoping to communicate your meaning, “again, tonight, I’d be up for that, too.”

He nods, a schoolboy smile on his lips as he admires you.

Your lips twitch with a smile of their own, “I’ll see you later.”

You feel a renewed giddiness as you turn from him and he returns your ‘bye’. His eyes are on you as you make your way down the steps and follow you until he can’t any further. You liked the feeling.

Call you crazy, but you think you just might be developing feelings for Bucky already as it is, despite not knowing much more than he seems to be a kind man, gentle, confident, insanely attractive…. You wouldn’t be surprised if this dinner solidified those feelings and more, even further. You’re looking forward to talking with him, really getting to know him.

You may not be one for sex with a stranger, but sex after the first date doesn’t sound too out there for you... Especially not when that date is with Bucky.

[yan-est]

I love love love love loveee your househusband hcs :o UR SUCH A GOOD WRITER LIKE REALLY GOOD! BUT ANYWAYS (UR AMAZING) HOW DID HE GREW UP? WAS HE WEALTHY GROWING UP?

stop im giggling like THANK YOU ANON!! 🤍 UR SO SWEET and bc of that i'm making this a teensy bit longer than it should be

neways, pretty sure he was a loner growing up buuuut at least he had you :) based on the warnings below idk if that should be a good thing or

cw: creep behavior, mentions of stalking and homicide

yan!househusband was filthy rich; total trust fund baby, spoiled kid, deep pockets. he might've looked like he had what he wanted and needed in life, but god, he would kill for a second out of his parents' agonizing, suffocating hold.

to distract himself while growing up in his mother's private estates, he tried everything. doesn't mean he was good at it though, if anything, he was on the mediocre side, but hey, he was a fast learner. that skill comes in handy when he finally met you.

and to be honest, he didn't expect falling this hard. sure, you were nice, and smart, and you had what he didn't have in his childhood— freedom. he could've chosen anyone else, he could've fallen for anyone else, but when he unconsciously drew you on the margins of his textbook one day, oh, that sealed your fate.

you were stuck on his mind, and he preferred to keep you in there.

the doodles started small. first, he drew you looking at the board. then he started drawing your side profile, your hair, then your portrait. then your pencil case, your favorite snack, your shoes, your uniform, your thighs, your house, your bed, and… everything down there.

he had to buy a new textbook. the old one was stained and it reeked of him.

he was obsessed.

you, the epitome of his wishes, his lifelong dream to be free, was within his grasp. after being caged by his mother and ignored by his father for so long, you were the breath of fresh air that he yearned to inhale.

you were everything he ever wanted. and he sure as hell wasn't going to let you get away.

it began with a dinner conversation. high school graduation was in a week, and on the rare occasion where they all gathered together, he and his parents sat around the candle-lit dining table. they were discussing his future, told him to pursue the path they did, and everything was fine!

it's just that… you weren't mentioned in his parents' plans, and that put him off. and as delusional as he may be, he knew the reality of what they'd think of you.

so when they mentioned setting up a good marriage partner for him, he was glad he laced their meals with cyanide beforehand.

the whole dinner blurred by into moments. he doesn't remember much of it, and he has already buried his past along with his parents. what matters is that he pulled some strings, inherited millions, bought you a promise ring, and planned to provide for you.

he has a whole plan in motion, from his career to finances, and one word from you will forever—

oh, um… you want a stay at home partner after college?

good thing yan!househusband looks fuckable in an apron!

[plumbottompie]

"What day is it?" you snap as she comes in. Your affini looks at you.

"Petal, you seem upset. I think you need some class-Es." She extends a vine, with a large flower on it. You barely even register the suggestion before you're pressing your face into the flower, and breathing deeply, inhaling the scent and holding it.

After three deep breaths, you pull away. "Thank you, Miss," you say, which is the proper response to her giving you a dose of xenodrugs. "Uh, what day is it, Miss?"

"I don't really see why you would need to know, cutie, after all, you spend every day more or less the same way, don't you?" She pats you on the head.

"Yeah but... uh..." you trail off, distracted by the hand on you. "Did you just give me class-As just now? I feel really sensitive."

"Sometimes class-Es can make people feel more sensitive. It's easier to focus on enjoying sensation when you're relaxed, after all."

You lean into her hand. "Focus... on enjoying..." you mumble, as you process her words. It still feels too strong to just be psychological, but she would never tell an outright lie. "Uh, Miss? I... how long have I been here?"

"I don't know, sweetie, you were standing here when I got back, but you could have been waiting here for hours. Do you need me to check the hab's tapes?"

"Yeah... I mean, no, that's not what I meant. Has it been more than a month since my wardship started?"

"You were only assigned for me for a one month wardship, and you're still here, aren't you petal?" You blink, feeling stupid. She's right, of course. Why are you even thinking about this?

"B-but... my boobs...?" What are you talking about? Oh, you remember! "I read they can't grow this big in only a month."

"I see, that's very interesting. Let me examine you more closely." Your clothes fall away, removed by vines that immediately start caressing you. Your knees go weak in a matter of seconds, and you happily collapse, letting her hold you up. "Your boobs are getting nice and big, aren't they?"

"Yes Mistress." You only call her that during sex, which this really wasn't supposed to be, she was just looking at you, but you're so turned on the word slips out on it's own. You expect her to be upset at you for turning this into something sexual, but a vine snakes into your ass, and at the same time, she leans down and kisses you, her tongue vine sliding down her throat, before she pulls away.

"Good girl," she says, and you realize that instead of being upset, she rewarded you. You smile, happy to know that you've pleased your Mistress. "Do you think your tits are too big?" she asks, squeezing them.

"No, MIstress. I want them even bigger. I just..." you just what? It's so hard to think, so hard not to just focus on enjoying your Mistress's vines. "I just need to know if I'm an independent."

A vine teases down your breasts and to your rock hard clit. It's a little over two inches now, even though it was bigger than average before your wardship. "An independent terran is considered an affini's equal. Tell me, petal, do you feel like my equal?"

"No, Mistress." Her vines pull away from your tits, clit, and ass, and she looks at you, observing you closely.

"Do you want me to treat you like my equal? I can, of course."

You shake your head so hard it makes you dizzy. "No! No, Mistress, I don't want that!"

"Good girl. You're going to be ready very soon, aren't you? Now, I think you need some class-Zs, and then to forget this whole day, don't you?"

You open your mouth, but the only response that comes out is "May I cum, Mistress?"

"No, not today, you've been a little naughty." The flower covers your face again, and you breathe deeply. You feel as your body stops trembling, your mind starts to slow, your eyelids droop, even your clit goes soft. "And next time you figure it out, kneel while you wait for me."

You dimly wonder what you figured out, before you go to sleep. When you wake, you'll discover that your tablet will no longer show you the timeline of class-Gs, but it's not like you're unsatisfied with them. After all, look at how much you've changed in only a month.

You were assigned to an affini for a one month wardship, and she helped you realize you were a trans woman and put you class-Gs. Now, looking in the mirror, you realize that from your research, the changes you've experienced should have taken at least three months.

You check your tablet to see what the date is, but it's not showing the date or time anywhere. Even if it was, you can't remember what day your wardship started. If you're right, your wardship ended a while ago, and she just... kept you? Didn't tell you that you were allowed to leave?

You consider trying the door out of the hab, and seeing if you can just walk out, but she'd be worried if she came back and you were gone, and besides, you're pretty mad. You'll wait for her to come home, and confront her about it. Maybe give her a chance to come clean, if it's true, or explain it to you, if you're wrong.

[alessiathepirate]

Squid Game

THE SEARCH: Hwang Jun-ho x fem!reader

Summary: The search for Gi-hun takes its toll on her. Luckily, someone's there to help.

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistakes I may have made while I wrote this short story.

Warnings: swearing, mentioned death and guns, mentioned and/or referenced trauma and PTSD

●●●

She was dreaming again - that was the reason why she tried to avoid sleep ever since Gi-hun went missing.

--because she was always dreaming about him: him dying, him being alone, him being scared after all that trauma... And her dreams always pointed out her self-blaming - she wasn't supposed to leave him alone, she should be there with him...

Her dreams were troubled once again - with nightmares. She was dreaming about Gi-hun and the marble game, which he failed so he could save another player's life...

That was another reason why she was scared for Gi-hun: because she knew his own life wasn't important to him anymore. She knew it, because she felt the same way.

She woke up to someone shaking her awake. She felt hands grabbing her shoulders, she heard a voice calling out for her - yet she couldn't identify the person; not immediatelly anyway.

Tears were running down her face, blinding her; she could barely breathe; and she could still hear gunshots even though she was no longer asleep.

"Y/N..." she heard her name once more, this time clearer. "You're alright. It was just a dream. Y/N, can you hear me?"

She was shaking - God, she was shaking so badly she barely knew where she was or who she was.

Still, one of those hands gently touched her face, turning her head so her eyes could meet someone else's.

Her lips started to tremble.

"You're okay now. You're awake."

Her fingers wrapped themselves around the hand on her face.

"Jun-ho?"

Reality suddenly hit her and she could feel shame climb up her throat.

She stared into his eyes as he nodded, his lips curled upwards into a faint smile. She swallowed hard as she let go of his hand. Her fingers were still trembling, but she put her hands down and pushed herself upwards into a sitting position. Her blanket fell onto her lap.

"What time is it?" she asked quietly as she raked her fingers through her hair.

"It's almost midnight." Jun-ho said as he grabbed a water bottle from the small desk in the corner of the cabin; he gave it to her, then joined her on the floor.

As she drank she slowly looked around.

They were alone, although she could hear the henchmen, Woo-seok and Captain Park talk outside.

They were probably fishing, she thought. They needed something to do and the Captain needed a distraction after she almost punched him. He would've deserved it though, since he didn't want to look for the damn island late at night. He really should've said a thank you to Jun-ho, because he was the only reason why he didn't get a black eye.

As she put the bottle aside she noted a map and a marker on the desk, under the light of a flashlight. Jun-ho must've been working on finding the island and Gi-hun, when he noticed her trembling in the corner. She was really thankful for his help: for waking her up and for the search.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" she asked as she pointed at the map. "I could've helped."

"Because Woo-seok said you are barely sleeping." Jun-ho looked at her from the corner of his eyes. "And I agree with him."

She didn't want to meet his gaze.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not." he argued and he sounded like a parent who's about to scold a child. "You barely eat, you barely sleep... I know you want to find Gi-hun more than anything, but you need your strength for it."

Her fingertips started to play with the edges of the blanket. She didn't say anything - she didn't know what to say.

Jun-ho was right, of course he was; but it was impossible to eat and sleep peacefully when guilt and fear was killing her from inside.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"About what?" she asked.

"You know what."

She knew - of course she did.

The nightmare was still being replayed in her head, again and again. She could see Gi-hun losing all ten of the marbles, she could hear the gunshots...

One of her hands shakily reached up to wipe away the tears.

When she took too long to answer, Jun-ho turned to look at her, and seeing her crying again made him regret his question.

"I'm sorry... we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." his hand landed on her thigh and before he could pull it away, her hand was on his.

She look up at him, her eyes glassy and her lips once again trembling.

"I dreamt that he died." she said after she swallowed. "That's all I can think about - what if he's dead? He's playing those stupid games again and I'm not there..." her voice sounded angry as she spat those last few words. "I'm not there with him and we promised, we promised that we'd never leave each other..." she took a deep breath. "Gi-hun saved my fucking life more times than I can count. And now I failed him... I'm failing him every single moment when I'm not with him." the tears were burning her cheeks as they ran down her face and landed on the blanket. "Why can't it be me who's in there..."

She was full on crying by then, her body was shaking.

It was a pain so deep and unbearable... And nothing could help. Her heart ached, her whole being felt numb and heavy.

She just wanted it to end - all of it.

Jun-ho let go of her thigh and put both of his hands on her cheeks, his thumbs wiping away the tears. He made her look him in the eyes.

"Don't say that..." he put some locks of hair behind her ears and then went back to wiping away the tears - since they just didn't want to stop falling. "It's not your fault. None of it. You had no way of knowing what would happen at that party."

Gi-hun didn't let her go in with him. He wanted her to stay in the car with Jun-ho. He wanted her out of danger's way.

She should've fought harder.

"And you didn't fail him..."

"Yes, I did!" she shouted. "I fucking did..."

Jun-ho held onto her tightly, not letting her wiggle away until he was sure she's fine.

"You played Russian roulette for him!" he argued.

She just blinked in surprise.

That was how she met him again - Jun-ho. He wanted to arrest her after she won the game of Russian roulette against the Salesman. And later, when Gi-hun arrived he almost shot Jun-ho for keeping her in cuffs.

"You played Russian roulette, so that guy - that Salesman - wouldn't go after him." Jun-ho repeated. "You didn't fail him. And he knows that. He almost shot me for you."

She continued to cry quietly and he let her. He let her cry it out as he pulled her close, so she could hide her face in the crook of his neck.

She wrapped her arms around him, letting the blanket fall between them, since she finally had someone to talk to, to be honest with. Someone who understood the concept of loss and uncertainity.

"Thank you..." she whispered as she felt his fingers massage her scalp.

"It's nothing." he said. "And I promise you that we'll find him. Okay?" he felt her nod so he continued: "But I need you to get some sleep for that."

"I'll try." she mumbled.

They changed positions. Jun-ho leaned against the wooden wall of the cabin, while she rested her head on his shoulder. Their knees were touching, and she was sure it had been a while since she felt this kind of comfort.

Right then, she needed him.

Her crying slowly died down and she felt like she could both breathe and think again.

"Jun-ho?"

"What's wrong?" she found the panic in his voice adorable - and it felt great to know that someone cared.

"Nothing's wrong, I just... never really apologized for handcuffing you to the bathtub."

She felt his chest rise as he began to laugh, and the sudden change of mood in the cabin felt nice.

"I handcuffed you first. You have nothing to apologize for."

She felt a small smile tugging at her lips.

"I also apologize for accusing you of being one of Them; and for trying to shoot you." she said as she remembered him sitting in the bathtub as she pointed his own gun at him.

Jun-ho chuckled. "I kind of did those first too."

She couldn't help herself - a small, barely there chuckle left her mouth too.

"Well then... thank you, for being here."

Jun-ho didn't answer for a while and she felt ashamed for being so outspoken. Yet a few seconds later he kissed her forehead and she felt a rush of sudden heat run through her whole body.

"Of course, I'll always be here - if you need anything..."

Jun-ho continued to stroke her head; gentle touches caressing her scalp, her neck and then later on: her back. Slowly but surely her eyelids became heavier and heavier - until she fell into a dreamless, peaceful sleep.

Tomorrow she'd wake up with her head on Jun-ho's chest - and somehow her blanket would be over them, keeping them warm.

Tomorrow she'd wake up with a slight feeling of shame, yet she'd have a new reason to keep on going for.

Tomorrow Woo-seok would give her an all-smile thumbs up.

Tomorrow she'd continue the search with a new amount of hope, knowing she has someone who'll help her every step of the way...

[rook-laidir]

Rook Banter part whatever!

Welcome to my twisted mind

~~~

Bellara: I’m trying to restock the pantry, but I’m a little lost - where did you get those chocolates?

Rook: The fancy ones? Minrathous. Don’t worry about restocking those, they were really expensive.

Bellara: Really? Then how did you…Oh.

Rook: Venatori were using it as a front, they could afford the hit.

~~~

Rook: Did I see you punch a Venatori in the face yesterday?

Neve: Probably. They’re like roaches, it’s hard to keep track.

Rook: You’re a mage. Why the punch?

Neve: You can take the girl out of Dock Town…

Rook: I’m bringing you with me the next time I go to the Hall of Valor. We’d make a killing.

~~~

Emmrich: I fear the answer, but I simply have to ask - what are you doing with Manfred so late at night?

Rook: Teaching him to dance.

Emmrich: How lovely! And Assan is helping?

Rook: He’s the backup dancer.

Emmrich: I look forward to seeing it!

~~~

Emmrich: Rook, I’ve received complaints from Isabela about Manfred’s presence at The Hilt.

Rook: What? Why? The Lords love him!

Emmrich: Yes, that would seem to be the problem. Apparently, someone taught him a dance distracting enough for a certain person to start picking everyone’s pockets.

Rook: What? Who would make poor, innocent Manfred an accessory to a crime like that?

Emmrich: Your outings with Manfred will be supervised.

Rook: Fair.

~~~

Taash: So how’s your…gender?

Rook: Fine? How’s yours?

Taash: Good.

Rook: Great!

~~~

Taash: There are some things I liked doing when I thought I was a woman. Can I still do those?

Rook: Who’s stopping you?

Taash: No one. I just don’t know how to do all the gender stuff yet.

Rook: There aren’t really any rules. It’s like the Lords - as long as you’re not a dick to anyone who doesn’t deserve it, you’re probably fine.

Taash: ‘Kay. I can do that.

~~~

Lucanis: We have a very well-stocked pantry, you know.

Rook: Ok?

Lucanis: Plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables. I’m also awake most hours of the night. I can make you a snack if you need one.

Rook: Thanks, but where’s this going?

Lucanis: I saw you eating shredded cheese out of the bag at three in the morning.

Rook: Oh.

[dalamjisung]

A muted shade of green ✧ Chapter 9: His angel girl

genre: comfort, smut (minor do not interact!!)

word count: 5902

pairing: reader x spencer reid

description: you two take a step into getting back to normal... or at least trying.

a muted shade of green masterlist

previous chapter // next chapter

would like to welcome all the new readers and to dedicate this chapter to the beautiful @starofthedawn who's been reading and commenting on my chapters since the beginning <3 thank you for your undying support love! means the world!

“Happy Monday!” 

You want to shoot her in the head. You want to turn around, grab Officer Kaper’s gun from his holster, and shoot her in the head, and you want to stop wanting to shoot her in the head. For someone who probably had the most magical Sunday of her life, you are not in such great mood once the consequences of sleeping a total of two hours sets in. Spencer deals with it much better than you, and you wince just remembering how snippy you were when he woke you up with the same kisses that had you moaning just hours ago. Lucky for you, though, he only laughs and pushes a full mug of coffee your way. Spencer knows you well despite the little time you two have been living together. But then again, if he really tries, Spencer would know anyone well. 

“Ah, happy Monday,” You say, shooting Officer Kaper a look that has him snorting. “Did you have any questions about the starter email? Sorry it wasn’t super in depth, it’s my first time hiring someone to help me.”

“That is absolutely okay, I’m sure I can learn a lot from you today!” 

It should be exciting, finally having the store open full time and with help to keep it functioning, but you’re just so exhausted that you can’t find it in you to be your usual cheery self. Not when just hours ago, you were feeling like you had endless energy, charging through Spencer’s touches. 

After JJ left his apartment, quite begrudgingly, you must admit, you two finally have some time to breathe. It sounds cliche, really, cheering for the moments you two can be together without an audience, but lately, there has been so few of them that it’s almost impossible to not turn selfish when they come about. And my god, are you selfish then… Spencer can’t move to the kitchen without you following him. But to your credit, he doesn’t seem to be all that comfortable with moving away from you either, and that is how you two end up in his room, digging through his mismatched socks drawer with so much gusto that it might just look like you found the long lost treasure of Atlantis. 

“You have no matching socks!” You giggle, shivering a little when you feel his presence behind you. His breath hits your nape, and Spencer drops a gentle kiss there. “Sweetheart, do I need to buy you socks?” 

“No,” He mumbles and just by the tone of his voice you know he’s distracted with dragging his lips through your neck, biting, kissing, grazing. Spencer is having his own fun with you, one that has nothing to do with the fact that your feet are freezing and his heater seems to be giving up on getting his apartment at a liveable temperature. When you ask him to look into it, he chuckles and tells you that he can fix it, that he will fix it. This, however, doesn’t look like he’s fixing it. “But you can keep calling me sweetheart.” 

Cocking your head to the side, giving him more space to work his magic. Something inside of you keens at the way he grabs at your waist, pulling you closer and keeping you there with a demanding attitude that is new and welcome, and you wonder if this has anything to do with how he finally spoke out. Taking control of a situation is always somewhat of a thrill, and you think Spencer is basking in his newfound confidence by pushing it a little further.

Not that you are complaining. Much to the contrary– a sharp exhale leaves your lips the moment he brushes those teasing lips on the junction of your neck and your shoulder, and you can feel the way he smirks, doing it again just to draw a whine out of you. “Spence,” Your voice goes all high pitched with the way he adds pressure with each kiss, the way his hands slide from holding you by the waist to encircling you completely. “Spence, what are you doing?” 

His chuckle sends another wave of shudders through you. “I’m not letting anyone take you away from me,” He whispers back, taking one step, then another, and another, until your knees push against the edge of his mattress and his kissed turn into light suckles travelling all around. At this point, you get yourself ready for the bruises you can feel blooming on your skin. “I’m never letting anyone take you away from me, I promise, angel. My angel girl…”

One day, when you think back to this moment, you’ll blame the ‘my angel girl’ for the way you so quickly clambered up to bed, hands grabbing him by that tie he insists on wearing even inside the house and tugging him down with a force you’ll probably never be able to conjure ever again. You’ll blame the ‘pretty girl’ and the ‘my Y/N’. You’ll blame the way his eyes plead, oh so quietly but never subtly, for you to get closer, to kiss him harder. You’ll blame him and his pretty lips, his pretty skin, his pretty legs. 

Everything about his is pretty, and you can’t help the excitement growing in you with each button undone. Oh, the amount of times you’ve dreamt of unbuttoning these shirts he religiously wears, uncovering inch of skin by inch of skin, dropping a kiss in every new bit of him that you get to see. Spencer is not as quiet as you thought he’d be– he rambles, and pants, and moans, and you smile because you know you’re the one dragging these sinful noises out of him, and you know that this show is all for you and you only. Spencer is not far behind though, and his hands are as equally busy– they pull, tug, rip, unzip; they do all they can until you’re left in your mismatched underwear and him, only in his boxer briefs. For some odd reason, you’re slightly disappointed that his tight underwear, outlining those beautiful thighs of his, are not purple. 

It’s cute, how his cheeks blush when his eyes land on your breasts, even if they seem stuck there for a while. “Spence,” You whisper, hand raising to caress his cheek. You are blushed yourself, redness going down your neck and chest, but you don’t mind it much, not when he seems to follow down the path of shyness you’ve created like it was the map to heaven. “Spence, is… is this okay?” 

“So much more than okay,” Spencer whispers back, face turning gently to kiss the palm of your hand cupping his cheek. “Is this okay for you?”

“So much more than okay,” You agree, smiling wide and pulling him down for another ravenous kiss. Like an instinct, your legs move to wrap around his waist, squeezing until every bit of him presses against every bit of you. 

And then you feel him, hot and heavy, and you exhale a sharp breath that has him jumping, trying to put some distance between you two as if he had somehow hurt you. “Are you okay?! Are you–“ You shut him up effectively with one more pull by the legs, hips dragging your heart against him and having him exhale as sharp as you. 

Raising your brow in a silent challenge, you mutter, “Are you okay?” With every word your lips brush against his and for once, in a long, long time, you feel good about yourself. You feel powerful, in command… sexy. The last time a man looked at you the way Spencer is looking at you had been years ago, and it hadn’t even been Josh. Josh never looked at you like that, like you could solve all his issues and pains with just one kiss, no, no; Josh looked at you like a challenge. A task. An objective. You never want to be looked at like that ever again. 

No. For the rest of your life, all you want is for Spencer to look at you like he’s doing right now. Specifically him, because if it’s not coming from those melting, honey eyes, you don’t want it. “Oh,” You breathe out, too lost in your head to have felt his hand moving upwards from your waist to sneak under your bra, nimble fingers squeezing it in an experimenting feel. From the way he bends down to kiss you, other hand rushing to unclasp the garment and throw it somewhere in the room, it must feel really fucking good. He takes it to a whole other level, though, when his lips– those lips you adore so much, that you spent hours watching move and talk and lecture– wrap around a perk nipple. “Oh, Spence…”

Sex is incredibly intimate for you. Is an act of giving and taking and giving back, and it’s a constant exchange that leaves you floating, on good times; on bad ones, it makes you feel as heavy as a rock. Just from his kisses alone you already feel weightless, so you know that from now on, there is only great things coming. Great things like how he grinds his hips down on you, catching onto your most sensitive spot again and again and again, and you’re not sure when was it that you desperately pulled his boxers down, but when you come back to yourself, climbing down from the building pleasure of having Spencer humping you like an uncontrolled teenager, you have him stark naked… and you’ll dream of this for the rest of your life. 

Naked Spencer is not the most confident, but he’s not coy about it either. In all fairness, you don’t think his brain, usually brilliant and expansive and now working in a one-track mind, is able to juggle a lot at the moment, and you chuckle at how awkwardly endearing he looks. One hand moves to push his hair our of his face, basking into the way he smiles at you, so brightly and larger than life. “You’re beautiful,” You whisper, forehead resting against his. “So beautiful…” 

“I’m afraid that would be you, darling angel,” Spencer kisses you quickly rubbing his hands on your arms, your back. “So pretty for me… all mine.” 

“All yours,” You agree, arching into his touch. It’s not possessiveness that you catch in his voice, but desperation. Fear. Need. Spencer is not dominating you, he’s not taking and taking and taking; he’s simply going along with a pace that is set by the both of you. You two are like water, moulding to each other, soft yet strong. No one has more power than the other, and no one commends nor obeys. This is a collaboration of two weirdly shy people trying to push past their natural hesitations to make something beautiful. 

Your hand slides down his chest, between your bodies, and grabs a hold of his cock. For a man that despised touch, Spence let out an eager groan, pushing his hips up towards your touch, and you whine. You want to be touched too, and he catches on instantly. Your sweet profiler, reading you even when his eyes could barely focus on yours. “So good,” He said, clumsy mouth trying to kiss yours while speaking. “So fucking good.” 

Just when you thought it couldn’t get better, Spencer curses, the word so foreign to him that you can’t help the rush of excitement that runs through you right there and then. Spencer knows, too, with how he gently slides his hand under your panties, finger diving into your wetness shamelessly. “So fucking good.”

There is not embarrassment in how loudly the sounds your body makes echoes in the room. Mixed with both your breathing, your moans, and the way your skin hits so perfectly, the sound of your eagerness is just another instrument in the symphony of you guys’ pleasure. “Spence, come on,” You whine again.

When you try to push your underwear down your legs, Spence gently slaps your hand away, tutting at you with a glint of mischievousness. Instead, he hooks his own fingers on the sides of it and makes a point of dragging it down as slow as possible. By the time he has your legs up in the air and finally gets it off of you, you are wiggling in place. “Stay still,” He gently admonishes you, nipping at your ankle that rests on his shoulder. It’s almost like Spencer is adamant on killing you slowly, keeping you teetering at the edge of a precipice created by him and him only. It’s up to him to push you over. Safe to say, with the way his lips slowly move from you ankle, down your legs, inching closer and closer to where you want him the most, you are as good as dead already, now it was all about enjoying the ride. “I want to make sure I commit this to memory.” 

“Y-You have an eidetic memory, S-Spencer– oh my god,” Your voice wobbles a little at the first touch of his mouth to your folds. Despite your… occasional dirty dream of Spencer, you had no expectations for this at all. After your conversation with Penelope, it was obvious that your beautiful nerd hadn’t had the most common teenage-hood. He had never experienced those marks of growing up– had never made out under a bleacher, never passed notes to his friends during class, never put a sock on the door of his dorm. Besides Lila and Maeve, you know nothing about his past relationships, and you found Lila’s name because of an article that leaked a photo of them kissing on a pool. Sure, you weren’t all that glad to now have the picture of Spencer kissing someone else ingrained in your brain, but it made you happy to know he had people appreciating him for all he is, before you. 

So safe to say it surprises you to know that Spencer knows how to use his mouth, and knows it well. Part of you wants to look at him, watch him eat you out like the starved man he apparently is and try, your damned hardest, to never forget it. Unlike him, you’re but a mere human that, at the moment, is so lost in pleasure that you’re not even sure if you remember your name. Doesn’t take long to have you shaking in his hands, legs trembling around his head and hips pinned down by his hands. “Let go,” Spencer whispers, opening his eyes just for a second, just to catch a glimpse of your face as he licks you whole, just right until he’s able to wrap those lips– those sinful lips– around your clit. That is your undoing, and before you can even warn him, your thighs snap closed around his head and you cum, moaning Spencer’s name like he is the prayer that will keep you alive. 

“Hmmm,” He brings you back to life with the soft little trail of kisses he drops on his way back up. In his tongue there are traces of you, of your taste, of your soul, and you are addicted with well it mixes with him. “You truly are sweet, angel.” 

“And tomorrow, I’ll figure out how sweet you are,” It’s a promise and one that you full intend to keep, though right now you truly think you will go insane if you don’t feel him like how you’ve been yearning to all night. “But right now, I really need you to–“

“To what?” He asks when your voice dies down, suffocated by the sudden feel of his cock rubbing against you just right. “Hm? What do you need, angel girl? Tell me and I’ll do anything for you…” 

Seeing Spencer so lost in pleasure is something new. His hair looks wild and his eyes are hungry and curious, focused on you and you only. He catches every reaction, every little twitch of your hips, every breathy whine; Spencer memorises everything. This will be stored in a little box inside his head, for those nights alone in strange hotel rooms in even stranger cities. For the afternoons with too little work and too many insecurities clouding his head. For the mornings when you leave before him and he can’t make you whine his name like you’re doing right now. His name… my god, his name is all he wants to hear coming out of your mouth; his name and those little gasps that send jolts of electricity up and down his spine. When you look up at him, arms going around his shoulder to pull him down for a kiss Spencer is smiling. It’s bright and wide and true and you think– no, no you know– and you know you’re falling in love with this man. 

You hike a leg up his waist, brushing yourself all over him, and you smile back. It doesn’t last long, though, because Spencer chooses that moment to push inside of you, biting your shoulder in a failed attempt to hide the guttural groan rising up his throat. “Holy shit,” You mumble, eyes threatening to close. This is all very overwhelming– in the best way possible, surely, but still overwhelming. There is the sting of stretching grounding you, but it quickly dissolves into a pleasurable burn and you are sure you’re experiencing the best of both worlds, floating in an in-between space midway to heaven from Earth. 

Ever since Cat found out your name, you’ve been living in fear. Every day, every night, you can feel the thrumming of anxiety running through your veins– sometimes stronger, like your heart is about to beat itself out of your throat, and sometimes weaker, more of a hum in the back of your ribs; but it’s always there. 

Except for now. 

Right now, you feel nothing. 

You are drowning in a world of silence, in a motionless state of being… 

…until Spencer snaps his hips at you again and you feel more than you’ve felt your entire life. 

You feel alive.

On fire. 

Burning. 

Like every nerve in your body has been ignited, like your brain is working overtime, like the air in your lugs have been punched out of your body. 

You feel so much that you can’t even begin to put into words. But you don’t have to speak, not when Spencer whispers those sweet nothings into your ear as if he’s not filthily moving his hips and driving himself so deep into you you basically see start. “So pretty, my angel,” He whines, mouthing at your neck. “So good for me, feels so good, pretty girl. So perfect.” In his words, promises lay unsaid. Promises of love, adoration, fondness. Promises of kindness, gentleness, safety. “I got you, Y/N, I got you. I promise.” 

Nodding, you let your nails drag down his back, the sounds of it all getting a bit too much for you to handle. Spencer’s hoarse voice, the slap of his skin on yours, the breathy moans he lets out; everything seems to be getting to you, and you hope this never ends. You hope to feel like this for the rest of your life, like you don’t have to have a single worry in life, because Spencer’s got you. 

“Spencer,” You cry out, pulling him for a sloppy kiss. You two are a mess of tongues and teeth and lips and the more he fills you up, the more he pushes into the you, the more you’re willing to fall, fall, fall… and you so you fall. “Oh! Spencer!” 

Your orgasm washes over you like a crashing wave, approaching fast and silently but crashing loudly once it hits shore. It’s a surprise to you and apparently to him too, from how he groans the loudest he has so far. You tense up for a second or two or three or maybe even an eternity, squeezing around him oh so perfectly, enough to make him falter, arms giving out and almost having his whole body crash onto you. In his own desperation to cum, Spencer speeds up in such a delicious way that it feels like you’re in a never ending downward spiral, pussy fluttering around him until he pushes into you one last time. “Y/N…” Spencer moaned, keeping himself quiet with how hard he bites your neck, tensing as he let his pleasure wash over him in jerky movements of his hips before completely stopping.

Slowly but surely, he pulls out of you, laying by your side looking completely spent with a lingering hand on your waist. Takes him a bit, but eventually, Spencer gathers enough strength to pull you to him, kissing your forehead lovingly. “You’re… everything,” He breathes out, eyes running over your face to commit it to memory, to engrave it in a type of forever that only he knows. His own forever. You are his very own forever.  “Is it too corny to say thank you?” 

You laugh and look up at him. “Depends,” Cuddling closer, you let your lips graze over his ear. “Are you thanking me for a job well done?”

“Hmmm,” His chuckle reverberates through you. “A job very well done, sweetheart, yes.” 

“Then no, it’s not corny,” You giggle, trowing a leg over his waist. “But as an academic, I don’t think your sample is large enough to be reaching any conclusions yet, doctor.”

“Oh, no, no, I’m not concluding anything yet,” Spencer shivers a little at your teasing joke, eyes darkening in a way that is surely becoming familiar to your. His little smile is enough to have you pushing yourself closer to him, kissing his neck gently. “I am making an inference. An inference is an educated guess, and based on that, I form a hypothesis.”

“And what’s your hypothesis here, doc?” 

Clearing his throat, Spencer lets out a breathy hum and tugs you on top of him, thighs on each side of his waist so he can run his hands up and down your beautiful skin. “I think I need a bit more… education first, if you don’t mind.” 

“Oh?” Cocking your head to the side, you smile brightly at him. “And how will you embark in this search for knowledge?” 

“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll show you how, angel girl.” 

In ten minutes he was kissing you all over again, muttering your name like a mantra. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N-

“Y/N?”

Your head snaps up to look at Abigail again, cheeks blushing when you realise where your mind had just gone. “Yes? Sorry Abi, what did you say?” 

“We have a consumer, could you help me with the cashier system?” And when Abigail smiles, you’re back to your sour mood. Honestly, you feel for her– you feel like a massive bitch who hates on a girl for absolutely no reason, but considering everything that’s been happening, her enthusiasm sending you for a loop.

“Of course!” Doesn’t mean you won’t still try and be a good boss. This is, after all, a place of business. Walking to her, you guide your new store manager through everything she needs to know; the cashier system, the ordering and cataloguing inventory, the filing system on the shelves. Much to your dismay, Abigail is a quick learner and she’s eager to help, jumping into the action as soon as a client walks into the store. You’re quite grateful for that, now having time to actually focus on the administrative tasks you’ve been putting away for ages, and when the time comes to close the store, you look at her with the friendliest smile you can handle under the current exhaustion and soreness that took over your body overnight. “You did great,” You promise, locking the door behind you. “Honestly, I could already work that much better with you handling everything, thank you very much.” 

“It was my pleasure!” Abigail smiled. “Will I be given a key for the days you’re not coming in?” 

You didn’t think that far, but the thought made you shift a bit uncomfortably. Giving her entrance to the bookstore so freely means you’re giving her entrance to your apartment just upstairs. And besides Officer Kaper and the BAU team, no one knows where you live. The goal is to keep it that way. “We can cross that bridge when we get to it, for a while I intend on coming in every day to make sure your introduction to the store is smooth and seamless!”

“Sounds perfect!” When you finish locking the door, you turn around to find her waiting with an expectant expression. “I uh, I don’t mean to bother you boss, but how about some drinks to celebrate the first day? You can come over now that I’m fully decorated!”

The invite is kind, and as much as you really want to go home and kiss your boyfriend silly, you can’t. You can’t tell her no, not again and again and again, and to your surprise, and hers, you nod. “Yeah, why not? You deserve it. Should I stop at the store to buy anything?” 

Quickly shaking her head, Abigail starts guiding you both back to the building calling your name. At least she lived a total of one floor away from Spencer. “No, no, I have everything back home to make some mojitos.” 

“Then we’ll order some pizza,” You chuckle, following her inside and up the stairs. “On me!” 

“Deal!” 

Her apartment is strangely familiar. It looks a lot like Spencer’s, though you can’t help but miss the muted shade of green that adorn his walls, surrounded by a bright pit of white instead. Everything about her place screams single female; the neutral furniture, the romance books piling by the sides of the couch, the quirky decorations that bring some type of colour to the room, and the obvious excessive amount of throw pillows everywhere. “Sorry for the mess,” Abigail chuckles, closing the door behind you and immediately trying to organise the living room. But you see the charm in how it is, and you don’t really mind being in a house that looks like someone lives in. 

“Don’t worry about me,” You wave at her. “I like being in a house that feels like a home.” 

“Have you ever considered being a writer?” The question makes you laugh. “Sometimes you say some very poetic things and I swear they would sound great in a book.” 

“I’m happy selling other people’s books,” Is all you give her, shrugging at her suspicious glance. “So… Pizza?” 

You don’t want to admit it, but at one point, you start having fun. It’s right after the awkward talking time and just as the pizza arrives that you two start laughing together, giggling at crazy stories from her old jobs. For a moment, this feels right– feels like what a girl’s night should feel like, with the gossiping, the drinks, the greasy food, and the shitty romance movie playing in the background without you paying attention to it, besides a couple of comments on how Jude Law is so cute. “…And then he wrote his number on the receipt and gave it to me! The audacity!”

Abigail has just finished telling you the story of how she met her ex and you chuckle, shaking your head. “Honestly, I lucked out with my customers. You’ll see that soon, but so far, everyone’s been incredible. I had some horror stories from the stores I worked at back in Manhattan, but thankfully they haven’t followed me here.” 

“Hmm,” Abigail is sitting in front of you, happily munching on her food while she squints at you. “Is that how you met Spencer Reid?”

You choke on a bite of crust and the way you have to wash it down with your mojito is ridiculous. The alcohol burns through your throat but at least you can breathe better. “Uh, Spence?”

“Yeah, Spencer Reid,” Abigail chuckles. “The neighbour upstairs. Your… something. Is he your boyfriend? You never really clarified.” 

Blushing, you nod. “Yeah, that’s my boyfriend,” Saying those words out loud feels surreal, like you have suddenly added a seal of authentication to it all. “We’ve been– We are dating.” 

“Oh,” This is the least enthusiastic you’ve seen her all night, and something tickles your brain. Is she disappointed that you two are officially dating? Is she into Spencer?! “Good to know. Uh, did you meet him at the store?” 

“Yeah,” The mood quickly turns upside down and tension settles where laughter previously occupied. “We’ve been friends for a while, though, and I uh, I used to watch his apartment while he was out of town for work and he’d bring me books and–“

“Is he out of town a lot?” This. This is exactly why you always feel weird next to Abigail– her invasive questions. “For work, that is.” 

“I–“ What are you supposed to say to that? Yes. He travels regularly and I’m constantly vulnerable and alone at his apartment? Absolutely not. “I mean, sometimes, but he can take cases from home.” 

“Cases? What does he do again?” 

“Oh,” You need to change the subject right now. “Spencer, he uh, he works with–“ 

You are not sure why you don’t want to tell her the truth, but you and Spencer had never discussed a story, a cover up; but then again, you two had never discussed being separated. A certain level of codependency has instilled thanks to the current situation, and it just makes sense to assume you’d always be together in social situations. 

“Because Officer Kaper also knows him, right? He said something back at the store, and I was curious.” 

Curiosity might have killed the cat, but Abigail is the one who will kill you. Cat knows Spencer works for the BAU, why would her partner be kept in the dark? Logically, nothing about this makes sense, and you might be overthinking and overreacting, but telling her about Spencer’s private life still feels wrong. Dirty. Like you’re breaking his trust just with a couple of words. 

Gulping, you nod, looking around with a nervous chuckle. “He uh, he works in a governmental agency,” Taking a deep breath, you think of semantics, of words that mean the same thing but can be as vague and open-ended as possible. “Some team I forgot the name. You know how those things are, you can be as close as possible with someone and still not be able to tell what they do for a living.” 

Her laughter is enough to have you breathing easier. “Oh my god! I so know what you mean… but when you really like someone, I think you remember the little things you know. Or at least I do. I still remember that book you mentioned on our first interview–“ Shuffling to grab something behind her, she shows you the cover of the book you mentioned a while back. “I’m halfway through and it’s absolutely incredible!” 

Holding back the impetuous Spencer remembers everything that you so badly want to throw at her, you just chuckle. With every word Abigail speaks, it feels like she’s throwing a dig at either Spencer or your relationship with Spencer, and you’re not sure which one makes you angrier. “I’m glad you like it,” You say, and the buzz of your phone saves the day. It’s been buzzing for a bit, but you didn’t mind checking it much while you were having fun. Now that things have gone a tad south, you can’t wait to come up with an excuse to go home. “Sorry, let me just– oh… Abi, I’m sorry, but I think I need to go home.” 

3 missed calls. 8 new messages. All from Spencer. Quickly helping her clean everything, you smiled. If this is going to work, you need to put in as much effort as Abigail is. You need to stop being afraid. You need to be honest with her. You need to do a lot… but not tonight. Tonight you’ve done enough. 

“Thank you again for having me, this was actually fun,” You smile, giving her a quick hug before opening the door and stepping out onto the hallway. “We can go to work together tomorrow, if you want! Text me when you’re about to leave?”

“Oh!” That is enough to have her smiling wide. “Yes! Amazing, I will!” 

One last wave and you’re running up the stairs, unlocking Apartment 23 with the key Spence gave you. “I’m so sorry!” You call out as soon as you’re inside, bag and shoes dropped by the door as soon as you spot him sitting on his couch. “Spence, I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you I was hanging out with Abigail after work and she made mojitos and we got pizza and–“

“Hey, hey hey hey, it’s okay, it’s alright,” Getting up, he walks to you and cups your cheeks, eyes searching for… something… in yours. “You’re okay?” 

“I’m okay. Better now, but okay,” You mumble back, kissing his lips gently as a reassurance. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you I was going to Abigail’s.” 

“You should’ve,” Spencer sighs, nodding with a small smile. “I was really worried… But then I called Garcia and she pulled the cameras, so I knew you were downstairs.” 

“Uh… Babe, I don’t know if that’s the best use of–“

“I don’t care, I was going out of my mind,” His arms squeeze you closer and he hides his face on your neck. “I know you can’t be here 24/7, and we talked about you going back to work, but… but let’s try and let each other know where we are more often? Just while this Cat thing is not solved, yeah?”

“Yeah,” You agree. Your lips press against his forehead lovingly. “Yeah, I’ll do better.” 

“Thank you, angel. Did you have fun?” 

“I did, for a while. But then Abigail started asking some… personal questions and I just– it sets me off, I don’t know why,” You are clearly frustrated with yourself, sighing and letting your body fall on the couch. In a beat, your arms open for him, inviting Spence to lay with you for a moment. “She asked where you work. I said a ‘governmental agency’ and I don’t know why I feel like I need to hide you from strangers, like she’s going to try and do something to you if she finds out details about your life.” 

When he lays down, you curl into him. “You’re protecting me, and that is really cute,” Spencer clarifies. “Maybe she’s just desperate for a friend, you know? I certainly have been there before, it can make you lose a bit of that common sense that should kick in and hold you back from putting your foot in your mouth, or any other idiot expression people use.” 

“Could be,” Truth be told, you don’t want to talk about Abigail anymore. You don’t want to think about Abigail, you don’t want to think about Cat, you don’t want to think about anyone but Spencer. 

You want to bask in your silence. In you quietude. 

You want to feel normal again. 

This feels normal again. 

“Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

“I missed you today.” 

Yeah… when he giggles; when he kisses your cheek, your neck, your shoulder; when he mumbles excitedly about his day… it all feels normal. 

---------------------------------------

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[v-eee]

── jungkook x you

scenario: you and Jungkook used to be best friend until new female staff came into his workplace, Jieun. He has introduced you to her. Jungkook starts getting busy with his work and often cancel the usual food hunting night with you because he needs to work overtime with Jieun. You know Jieun doesn't like you because she has come to your cafe a few times and told you to stop texting Jungkook during his work hour. when you told him about that, he didn't believe you. Starting that day your friendship is not like it used to be.

(iii)

The next day, Jungkook woke up with a tight knot in his chest. He checked his phone first thing.

Last night he texted you asking if he can have a lunch or dinner with you. No reply from you last night, today he woke up hoping for a reply from you. But nothing.

He stared at the screen, debating whether to text you again. Finally, he typed:

'Y/N, please let me know when you're free.'

He waited, the minutes dragging into hours. By the afternoon, there was still no response.

At work, his mind was all over the place. Even Jieun noticed his distracted state, but he kept their conversations short, avoiding her entirely when he could.

By evening, still no reply. His chest felt heavier with every passing moment.

Jungkook headed to your café after work.

When he arrived, he was hoping to see you working behind the counter, but his heart sank when a staff member—not you—greeted him.

"Hey, is Y/N here?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

The barista shook her head. "Oh, she’s not around. She’s out of town for a few weeks—work-related. Can I help you with something?"

Jungkook blinked, stunned. "Out of town? When did she leave?"

"Uh, she supposed to left tomorrow but she got an urgent call and left this early morning."

Jungkook nodded slowly, mumbling a quick, “Thanks.” He stepped out of the café, the cold evening air hitting him harder than he expected.

You were gone. You normally will tell him if you go to other places, you always sharing what you did or new things you found with him. But he had been so focused with work, project with Jieun.

Few weeks ago, you still trying to text or call him, he is the one who's too busy and often delaying his reply to you. And now when he's looking for you, you are not even in the same town.

He gets into his car, sitting down heavily. He pulled out his phone again and stared at your name in his contacts.

'Y/N, I heard you’re out of town for work. I didn’t know. I… I hope everything’s going well. Let me know when you’re back, okay? I really want to talk.'

He sent the message and leaned back, closing his eyes. The guilt was almost suffocating. He had pushed you away, doubted you, and now he might not even have the chance to apologize properly.

All he could do was wait and hope you’d let him back into your life when the time came.

[eclectic-sassycoweyes]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tags @paperstorm @heartstringsduet @everlastingday @henrygrass @nisbanisba @whatsintheboxmh @alrightbuckaroo @carlossreaders

An idea for a future/Jonah fic merged with Ranch Fic which I believed I've shared a bit of before. It won't leave my head. Here is a snippet from a chapter in which Jonah starts preschool and brings home a gift in the form a stomach bug they all get to take their turn with. Look how happy the little guy is with himself.

Thus this snippet is also me jumping aboard the Carlos Sickfic train whoo Niz you're still the captain and the driver I'm just joining the ride for a bit! Warnings for descriptions of nausea and a mention of throwing up but no more than those exact words.

He kind of wants to check in on Jonah and TK, wants to say goodbye to Jonah before he leaves for half the day but his eyelids are already drooping and the nausea still sits on the edge of his consciousness. He feels like he has a small window of time wherein if he just moves very little and goes to sleep soon he might be able to skip the next bout of nausea.

His wish is granted anyway as the bedroom door opens, Jonah entering first along with TK’s voice reminding him to be gentle, TK himself emerging last.

“He wanted to show you the dragon he chose,” TK says as Jonah climbs carefully up the bed to sit next to Carlos.

“Hey Jonah," Carlos says, fighting to keep his eyes open as he pushes Jonah’s bangs away from his forehead. He’s gonna need a haircut again soon. “Did you choose a good one?”

“Look!” Jonah says, pulling at the hem of his shirt and puffing his chest out, proudly showcasing the pink dragon on the front.

“Wow, mijo, that’s a really good choice,” Carlos says, making Jonah beam up at TK at the confirmation that they chose right.

“Are you gonna wear your pajamas to work, Carlos?” Jonah parrots TK from earlier. He does that a lot these days. Sometimes it makes him say weirdly wise things that sound way too adult coming from his four year old voice which always makes Carlos laugh.

“Carlos gets to stay home and sleep some more, because he’s sick, remember? Just like you stayed home when you were sick.”

“Did you throw up?” Jonah asks, turning to Carlos with wide eyes. He looks a mix between concerned and intrigued.

“Yeah, but just like you I’ll feel better again in no time,” Carlos reassures with a out upon smile. He hopes he's right.

“Do you want an ice pop?” Jonah asks, remembering that had made him feel better.

“Maybe later,” Carlos smiles at him. “But that was a nice thought, mijo. Thank you.”

Jonah looks like he’s thinking hard trying to come up with something else that will magically heal Carlos. He’s so sweet and caring, just like his brother. TK interrupts him before he can suggest any more remedies, heartwarming as they are.

“Okay, buddy,” TK says. “Time for breakfast I think, so we can get to preschool on time.”

“Can we make omelets?” Jonah asks, sufficiently distracted. Carlos usually lets him ‘help’ when he makes omelets in the morning and Jonah loves being delegated with small but very important tasks.

TK chuckles. “Sure. I don’t know if I can make them as good as Carlos though,” he says. “You’ll have to ask him for the secret ingredient.”

“What’s the secret ingredient Carlos?” 

Another time Carlos will tell Jonah how to make his favorite omelet, but right now Carlos can’t bear the thought of pronouncing the word of any food related item. “Love,” he says instead, ruffling Jonah’s hair, trying not to show that even the act of lifting his arm feels like a tremendous effort. Jonah frowns for a moment before he giggles like Carlos just said a super silly thing.

“Love? You can’t put love in an omelet Carlos!”

“Sure you can,” Carlos says. “You just have to make the omelet for someone you love and that’s how you put love into it.” He doesn’t know where the spontaneous pocket philosophy comes from and he hopes he hasn’t made a mistake in case the omelet TK and Jonah whip up for some reason isn’t to Jonah’s liking.

Kids don’t think that deep, he tells himself. Jonah will probably have forgotten about it in the time it takes them to go from the bedroom to the kitchen. And besides he fully trusts TK’s abilities when it comes to cooking. 

His jumbled overthinking is interrupted by Jonah making his heart grow two sizes and do a little dance in his chest. “Then we have to make some for Carlos too TK! So we can put love in it!”

Unfortunately his stomach seems inspired by his heart to start matching its little dance routine. Thinking anymore about omelets, let alone one being made for him that he has to eat, isn’t helping. He feels his little window of time starting to close as the nausea begins tauntingly closing back in on him. Luckily TK seems to read it on his face. Or maybe he’s just turning visibly green.

“We’ll make some for him to save for later,” he says. Planting a soft kiss to Carlos forehead he tells him “You should try to finish that glass of water though, if you can. I’ll bring you a new one before we leave.”

Turning back to Jonah he says more loudly, "Now, can you say bye to Carlos so we can let him sleep?” to Carlos he says softly “You look ready to, baby.” 

Carlos only hums in response.

Jonah rises up from his knees on the bed, putting him at eye level with Carlos as he wraps his little arms around his neck. “Bye, Carlos. Feel better,” he says before turning back to TK, putting his arms in the air to be lifted off the bed.

Carlos musters his last energy for a sincere “Bye Jonah. I love you,” But Jonah has apparently already moved on, or rather back to discussing what to put into the omelet, beside love.

“And ham,” he says as TK lifts him under the armpits and sets him back on the floor.

“And cheese!” he says, “And eggs and pepper and-” 

“Okay buddy,” TK interrupts quickly, sending Carlos an apologetic wince before quickly ushering Jonah out of the bedroom, as he keeps listing ingredients. 

Once the door is closed behind them, Carlos takes a few steadying breaths, the nausea thankfully retreating back to the peripherals. Having learned to listen to TK when it comes to medical advice, he sips the water until the glass is almost empty before he gingerly lays down, foregoing his own freshly clean pillowcase in favor of TK’s, and pulling their shared blanket up and over his body. He shifts a little to make himself as comfortable as he can and then closes his eyes.

He doesn’t hear when TK creeps in half an hour later to replace the near empty glass of water, or the front door opening and closing as they leave to drop Jonah off at preschool.

OPEN TAG

And tagging @herefortarlos @emsprovisions @paperstorm @heartstringsduet @ironheartwriter

@bonheur-cafe @ladytessa74 @sapphic--kiwi @literateowl @lemonlyman-dotcom

@rangersoup @theghostofashton @everlastingday @henrygrass

@freneticfloetry @liminalmemories21 @carlossreaders @chicgeekgirl89

@the-126-family @goodways @carlos-in-glasses @whatsintheboxmh @tailoredshirt

@nisbanisba @nancys-braids @your-catfish-friend @rmd-writes @goldenskykaysani

@captain-gillian @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @alrightbuckaroo @tellmegoodbye

@carlos-tk @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @pimento-playing-hopscotch @firstprince-history-huh @thisbuildinghasfeelings

@never-blooms @lightningboltreader @welcometololaland

I finally made a taglist so lmk if you want to be removed from it or added to it!:)

[oscinhaslandito]

Hello hello, I would like to make a request.

George and Reader meet at a party and George finds out reader works at the traffic department and starts getting fines and more fines just to see the reader

heyy anon!! first of all thank you so much for the request i love wrting for y'all!! also i'mso sorry but i don't know a lot about traffic laws and stuff so it's gonna be super vague cause i literally got no idea how that works so yeah hope that's fine. also enjoy hope you like it🥰

Red Lights, Red Hearts

The light music echoed through the crowded room as conversations and laughter wove through it. Y/N stood near the drinks table, her fingers loosely gripping a glass, as her eyes flitted across the sea of unfamiliar faces. She wasn’t entirely sure why she’d agreed to come—networking wasn’t her forte, and most of the people here seemed engrossed in their own social circles. Still, the vibrant energy of the party was hard to ignore.

Across the room, George Russell, effortlessly charming in a tailored navy suit, scanned the lively crowd. His gaze landed on Y/N, who stood apart from the chaos, exuding a quiet confidence that immediately piqued his curiosity. After a brief pause, he weaved his way through the throng, his heart beating slightly faster than usual.

“Hi,” George greeted her with a warm smile, holding out his hand. “I’m George. Mind if I join you? You look like you could use a partner in surviving this madness.”

Y/N glanced at him, her lips curving into a small, amused smile. She shook his hand. “Y/N. And sure, as long as you’re not one of those people who’ll try to sell me a business opportunity.”

He chuckled, the sound genuine and light. “Promise. No sales pitches here. So, what brings you to this fine gathering of extroverts?”

“Honestly? A friend dragged me along. She claimed I needed to ‘get out more,’” Y/N replied, rolling her eyes slightly. “What about you? Networking or just here for the free drinks?”

“Bit of both, I suppose,” George said, leaning casually against the table. “Though I have to admit, meeting someone who’s not actively trying to hand me a business card is a refreshing change.”

Y/N took a sip of her drink, studying him. “And what exactly do you do that has everyone handing you their cards?”

George hesitated for a moment, then offered a modest shrug. “I drive for a living.”

Her brow furrowed. “Like, a chauffeur?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Not quite. Formula 1, actually.”

Recognition flickered across her face. “Oh. That sounds really cool. So, you must have sponsors lining up left, right and center, huh?”

George nods, "Exactly. I hate formal business parties. What about you? What's your day job?"

“I work in traffic enforcement,” she said with a sly smirk.

George raised an eyebrow, caught off guard. “Traffic enforcement? As in… parking tickets and speeding fines?”

“Exactly. Riveting, isn’t it?”

He let out a hearty laugh. “I have to say, that’s not what I expected. So, you’re the one who ruins everyone’s day with a single piece of paper?”

“Pretty much,” she replied, amused by his reaction. “What can I say? It’s a thankless job, but someone’s got to do it.”

Their conversation flowed easily from there, George finding excuses to linger by her side. They traded stories and playful banter, and by the end of the night, he’d managed to get her number. As Y/N walked away, she couldn’t help but wonder if their paths would cross again.

A week later, Y/N was at her desk in the bright, bustling office of the traffic department. Her computer pinged with incoming files as she sorted through reports and tickets. The sound of the door opening drew her attention, and to her surprise, George walked in.

“George?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”

“Apparently, I parked in a no-parking zone,” he said, feigning innocence as he handed over the ticket. “Shocking, isn’t it?”

She arched a brow, glancing at the citation. “You didn’t notice the huge red sign?”

“I guess I was distracted,” he said, his grin giving him away. “But hey, since I’m here, maybe you could recommend a good coffee spot nearby?”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “You’re something else, George. But sure, there’s a café around the corner.”

Over the next few weeks, George became a regular at the traffic department. Each time, he had a new excuse—a speeding ticket here, an expired meter there. The staff began to notice, exchanging knowing glances whenever he walked in. Y/N, meanwhile, started to anticipate his visits, though she’d never admit it out loud.

One day, as she processed yet another fine for George, she finally decided to call him out. “George, do you enjoy breaking traffic rules? Is it the adrenaline of an F1 driver that leads you to overspeed? I don't understand, you literally drive for a living.” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

He rubbed the back of his neck, pretending to think. “Yeah, just adrenaline, I suppose. Somehow, always lands me here.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “At this rate, I should give you a loyalty card.”

Outside the office, George leaned against his car, taking a deep breath to calm his heart rate down. “She’s going to figure it out soon,” he thought to himself. “Worth it, though.” The man couldn't stop smiling on his way back home.

One day, George arrived at the counter without a ticket in hand. Instead, he held a bouquet of vibrant, freshly cut flowers. His usual playful demeanor was replaced with something softer, more earnest.

“George,” Y/N began, confused, “no fine today?”

“No fine,” he said, his tone more serious than usual. “But there’s something I need to confess.”

She tilted her head, intrigued.

“All those fines? They weren’t accidents,” he admitted, looking sheepish. “I just wanted an excuse to see you. I know it’s ridiculous, but you’re worth every penny.”

Y/N stared at him, speechless for a moment, before bursting into laughter. “George, you could’ve just asked me out instead of sabotaging your driving record! You literally could've had your driver's license revoked.”

He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous smile, “I know, but I just wanted to see you.” He sighs, “And well, I’m asking now,” he said, holding out the flowers. “Will you let me take you out? I promise it’ll be a ticket-free experience.”, he adds jokingly.

She smiled, taking the bouquet. “You’re lucky you’re cute. Alright, George. One date. We'll see how it goes from there. But, please for the love of God and for your sake, no more breaking traffic laws just to see me.”

George chuckles, raising his hands in mock surrender, “Promise.”

The two of them lingered by the counter, talking long after George’s confession. Outside, the afternoon sun bathed the street in golden light, and for the first time, Y/N felt like her otherwise routine job had brought her something extraordinary.

[coquettemouse]

The loud ring of the school bell echoed through the hallway, and Leo instinctively covered his ears, wincing at the sound. He was used to it by now, but that didn’t make it any less unpleasant. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the new kid—Jason—doing the exact same thing, though his expression was different. He looked genuinely startled, his face tightening as if the noise had caught him completely off guard.

Leo watched him for a moment, curious. Guess I’m not the only one who hates that thing, he thought to himself.

Meanwhile, Piper was busy packing up her books and notebooks, neatly sliding them into her bag like the organized machine she was. She glanced over at Leo. “Earth to Leo? Our next class.”

Leo gave her a half-smile, still distracted. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.”

The two of them walked to their english class together, joining the crowd of kids heading in the same direction. When they entered the room, the teacher—Mr. Hermes—was already at the front, adjusting a stack of papers. He was this skinny guy with super messy hair and a beard that looked like he just forgot to shave. He always kinda looked like he just rolled out of bed, but he had this cool vibe about him, the kind that made even boring stuff seem kinda fun.

Leo liked Mr. Hermes. He always had a joke or a story up his sleeve, and he wasn’t afraid to bend the rules a little bit if it meant making class more fun.

“Alright, everyone, settle down!” Hermes called out, clapping his hands. “We’ve got something a little different today. I’m giving you an activity to work on in groups of three.”

The class perked up slightly at that. Group activities were always better than sitting through a lecture.

Mr. Hermes continued, waving a paper in the air. “Here’s how it’s gonna work. I’ll hand out the instructions, and you’ll work with your group to come up with some creative answers. You’ll have until the end of class, so don’t waste time deciding on your trios.” He paused, grinning. “And yes, you can pick your own groups.”

The room erupted into chatter as everyone started looking around, deciding who they wanted to team up with.

Piper tilted her head, clearly already thinking about their group. “So, who should we—”

“I wanna team up with the new kid!” Leo blurted out, cutting Piper off. He pointed right at the blonde boy sitting in the back, all quiet like he was trying not to be noticed. Leo didn’t really know why, but something about him just made Leo want to drag him into their group. Maybe it was because he looked so... out of place. Or maybe Leo just thought it’d be fun to see what his deal was.

Piper blinked at him. “Him? Why?”

Leo shrugged, grinning. “I dunno, I just wanna talk to him. He looks kinda cool. And, y’know,” he added with a cheeky glint in his eye, “he probably needs help making friends or something.”

Piper rolled her eyes but smiled anyway. “Fine. But don’t scare him off, okay?”

Leo ignored her and turned to Jason, waving him over. “Hey, Jake! Wanna join our group?” he called out, loud enough for half the class to hear.

Jason’s head shot up, his eyes widening slightly as he looked at Leo, then Piper, then back at Leo again. For a moment, he hesitated, like he wasn’t sure if Leo was serious. But then, with a small, uncertain nod, he grabbed his notebook and slowly made his way over to their table.

Leo beamed. “Cool! You’re with us now. I’m Leo, by the way. And this is Piper. Don’t worry, we’re pretty awesome.”

Jason gave a small smile, his voice quiet but polite. “Thanks. I’m Jason, actually.”

“Yeah, I know,” Leo said, leaning back in his chair. “Mrs. Roberts introduced you, remember?”

Jason shifted awkwardly, clutching his notebook to his chest. “Um, yes,” he said softly. “You called me Jake.”

Leo blinked, then let out a chuckle. “Did I? Oops, my bad. Jason, Jake, same thing, right?”

Piper rolled her eyes, giving Leo a playful nudge. “No, it’s not the same thing, genius. Maybe try listening for once.”

Leo shrugged and Piper let out a sigh. “Well, welcome to the group, Jason. Let’s see what Mr. Hermes has in store for us.”

Leo leaned forward, his excitement bubbling over. “Don’t worry, dude. We’ve got this. With me on your team, there’s no way we can lose.”

[slxtarchive]

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ✦ 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐁𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. when you find yourself struggling in one of your classes, you thank your lucky stars for such a helpful professor

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃. yes, you can find it here.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. SMUT ! age gap [ up to your interpretation but about a 4-5 yr age gap is intended ], degrading, use of the words dirty & filthy, name calling [ slut, dirty girl, filthy girl, whore, sir ], pinch of handjobs, pnv sex [ unprotected - not recommended ], table sex & standing doggy style.

𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒. he looks so good in that photo. thank you for being patient, i hope you enjoyyy [ divider is made from youtube & capcut ]

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 2.4k.

the classroom was quiet, the only thing heard was the scratching of the chalk on the old school chalkboard. standing in front of the equation you tried and tried to think of how to solve it but ended up stumped. your lips pressed into a pout as you turned around. “i don’t get it.” you sighed, finally turning to glance in colby’s direction.

professor brock with his hands on his hips leaned back against his desk. he crossed his arms and gave you an encouraging nod. “alright, where are you stuck?”

you bit your cheek. “um, everywhere?” you replied, motioning to the unsolved problem on the board.

he let out a soft laugh, pushing himself off the desk, and walked over to stand beside you. “okay, let’s just break it down again,” he spoke pointing to the beginning of the equation. “what’s the very first thing you do here.” his tone was soft and light holding a bit of a intelligent sound.

you hesitated getting a bit distracted by the wafting scent of his cologne. you bit your cheek trying to think about the equation. “simplify?” you guessed mindlessly.

he held a light grin. “close.” his voice was so patient. “distribute first, then simplify. go on, try it.” he nodded to the boards.

you nodded slowly grabbing the chalk and began to write. you were on a roll but your hand froze halfway through. “shit — no this doesn’t even make sense.” you groaned, glancing up at him.

your professor sighed, stepping closer so he was standing right behind you. “here,” his tone was light. “let me guide you.”

he reached out, placing his hand gently over yours. his touch was warm and steady, and he guided you through the motion of writing out and solving the next step.

you felt a fire ignite on your skin and your heart started to race. his breathing was slow on your neck as he focused on solving the problem. everything about this intrigued you, turned you on even. he was so — “see?” he murmured, his breath brushing against your ear. “it’s not as complicated as it looks.”

you looked at the problem and noticed everything had been solved. you had been daydreaming. you swallowed harshly before speaking up, “i don’t know.” the uncertainty in your voice was apparent. you tilted your head up at him slightly noticing the flush in his cheeks. “it still feels… complicated.” the eye contact you made with him felt very intimate so he found himself stepping back.

he froze as he put distance between the both of you, your hands no longer touching anymore. “you just need practice.” he cleared his throat.

the way he stood there awkwardly showed you that he felt the exact same way. how he put his hands in his pockets and tried to avoid any extra eye contact.

“maybe,” you bit your lip to fight off a huge grin as you turned toward him. “or maybe i just need the right teacher.”

colby raised a brow noticing your flirty tone and how your posture was telling. “yn…” he said with a warning, though his voice was soft.

“what?” you asked, feigning innocence. “i’m just saying, you’re really good at this.”

his jaw tightened, and he looked away, trying to focus on anything but the way you were staring at him. “we should continue to focus on the math now.” he said, his voice low.

you put on a playful pout. “i am focusing.” you replied taking a step closer. “but maybe i just need a little… incentive.”

colby’s chest rose and fell heavily as he met your gaze. “yn, this… this isn’t— ”

“isn’t what?” you raised your brows. “professor, you don’t have to pretend like you don’t feel anything that i feel.” your voice was quiet and insistent.

he ran a hand through his dark hair looking at the way your shirt was tight around your body leaving just a few to the imagination. how your skin looked so soft, so smooth, so pure. his resolve slowly crumbled around your boldness. “this is a bad idea.” he muttered softly, barely above a whisper.

you were closer than ever before, your body nearly making contact with his. she looked up at his tall figure. “then stop me.” you whispered, your voice daring as you stepped one more inch closer.

he didn’t move. not one inch. he couldn’t. he wanted this.

for a long charged moment, neither of you spoke. your heart was beating so fast, racing even but you held your stance. you searched colby’s eyes trying to wonder what his next step would be.

then, as if something inside him snapped, coming closer to the distance between you. his hands found your waist, pulling you against him as his lips claimed yours.

the kiss was intense, a release of all the tension that had been building between you two. you pressed your hand against his chest, tilting your head to deepen the kiss as he backed you against the chalkboard.

you gasped as your back hit the wall. he pushed you further up against it kissing you with passion and need.

when you both finally pulled apart, you were breathless and felt dizzy trying to register what just happened. colby rested his forehead against yours. “this is going to get us both in trouble.” his voice was hoarse.

you lightly smiled, licking your bottom lip. your fingers curled into his shirt clutching it in your hands and pulled him closer. you then whispered against his lips, “then let’s make it worth it.”

he seemed to have an internal battle within himself before he grabbed your face pulling you toward his slowly, tortuously slow. your lips touched ever so slightly as your breathing mingled with his. he sighed softly, wanting to connect them.

you leaned forward trying to mold them together but he pulled back teasingly. he grinned looking at your eyes and then lips. you let out the slightest whimper that had him lose all control.

he molded your lips with his gripping your waist with urgency. your moans got caught in your throat as he grabbed you harshly before muttering ‘up’. you gasped before jumping so his hands rested on your ass carrying you over to sit on his desk.

he knew it was risky but at this point in time, he didn’t care. he shoved everything off his desk to make room for you and continued to kiss you on your lips, then brought his own all the way down to your neck — sucking and biting. “this is so wrong.” he groaned against your neck.

your eyes fluttered shut loving the feeling of his skin on yours. your chest was moving up and down as you tried to speak through your staggered breathing. “is it?” you questioned, trailing your hand down until you found his print. he was hard under his slacks. you felt excitement course through you as your brain rested on the thought of how you were turning colby on.

you palmed him through the thick material of his pants, earning a low groan from him. he clutched your hips pulling you closer to him. you moved your hand from between you two allowing your centers to collide with one another. you felt that pressure send a shock up inside you. “feels so good.” you whined as you held onto colby’s shoulders.

a low laugh left his lips. “yeah?” he fiddled with his belt with his free hand. you took your hands off his shoulder one by one to prop yourself up. he took his hand off your hip looking down at you as you sat down staring up at him. “so pretty starin’ at me.” he licked his bottom lip unbuckling it swiftly before unbuttoning his pants.

you pulled him by the belt loops of his pants then brought your hand up to his chest clutching his shirt. “make me feel pretty.” you pulled him closer. he looked down at you just before grabbing the waistband of your skirt and tugging it down a bit. you lifted your hips so that he could fully take it off so it pooled hanging off your legs.

his hand reached inside your panties using two fingers to collect your arousal. “already so wet for me, so filthy.” he purred. “my filthy girl.” he brought your slick up to your clit slowly rubbing circles. you bit your lip whimpering slightly.

he kept this going as he spoke in your ear. “you love the thought of fucking your professor? dirty dirty girl.” his fingers picked up the pace stimulating you so good. his words also brought you close and faster than you’ve ever cum before. you felt yourself try to catch your breath and keep up. “gonna have to teach you another lesson huh?”

you nodded the pleasure practically blinding you as you clenched your eyes shut. you felt your legs practically shaking as you felt your impending orgasm. suddenly colby stopped his actions, bringing his fingers up to his mouth. your eyes were mesmerized by how he licked and sucked them clean. “wanna taste you so bad but i have a meeting in a few minutes. can’t believe a dirty slut like you…” he grabbed your jaw. “would make me late for a meeting, all because you’re greedy and needy for my cock, yeah?”

that mouth of his had you completely dripping on his desk. he noticed laughing humorlessly. “making a mess too, so disrespectful.” he pouted. “you wanna be like that, probably shouldn’t give you what you want huh?” he stood still not making any more to continue what was happening.

his words causing you to speak up. “n-no! please… please fuck me.” you begged. “promise i’ll be a good girl for you professor.” you bit your lip as you called him his professional name. he raised a brow, secretly loving the way you called him that but he was looking for more.

“beg more. how bad do you want my cock, huh?” he put your hair behind your ear.

you gulped bringing your hand inside his boxers before grabbing his hard dick and gently pumping him once. “s-so bad sir. so bad, been wanting it.” you licked your lips as you saw his head lull back at your touch. “want you so bad. promise i won’t be filthy anymore. i’ll always be a good girl for you.” you blinked at him.

you were so hard to resist for him, he just had to give you what you wanted.

he licked his teach grabbing your hand and moving it aside grabbing his own cock out. he pumped himself a few times before nudging your legs further apart. he lined himself up with you feeling how smooth and silky you felt.

your hands fell behind you once again holding your balance. you almost felt yourself collapse when colby pushed all the way inside you. you gasped your jaw dropping as you felt him immediately nudge that sweet spot and at that moment, you knew you weren’t going to last long. he thrust in and out of you slowly enjoying the feeling of you wrapped around him.

he moaned at how your walls closed around and swallowed him. “taking me so well. whore for this cock, yeah?” he grabbed your hips thrusting in and out. the view in front of you is so hot. the way his hair fell in front of his eyes, how it was sticking to his forehead because of his sweat — a dream you got to see in reality.

he looked at his watch noticing he had to speed things up. “fuck — have only five minutes.” he groaned, “wish i could take my time with you.” he muttered. he ended up pulling you off the desk and turning you around. “don’t worry baby, gonna make you feel so good, jus’ quicker.” he said sliding back in. you gripped the desk as he pushed down onto his. skin slapping together echoed through the lecture hall — your tiny whimpers and moans threatening to escape.

you felt that natural feeling in your stomach rising up and banding together. you couldn’t help but clench around colby. “fuck — gonna cum! please please please…” you whimpered, the pleasure becoming too much.

colby had a lazy grin on his face as he felt the same way. “cum on my cock. be the greedy good girl you are and milk my cock.” he groaned, grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he felt himself spill inside you shortly after your legs shook in response to your orgasm.

your hands gripped the desk until they appeared white. sweat beading down your forehead.

in the silence that followed only your harsh breaths mingled in the air — the reality of what just happened settling into place. you slowly stood up as colby helped you lift up your underwear and skirt. you felt colby’s cum slowly dripping out of you; a reminder of what previously occurred.

you bit your cheek observing him buckling his pants up and fixing his collar. then he finally made eye contact with you. “i’m dropping you.” he stated.

your heart dropped out of your chest as he gathered his things. “what? i — im sorry professor brock. i… i didn’t mean to—”

he shook his head. “yn, i’m dropping you because i can’t have any romantic relations with a student.” his face did not at all show how serious dropping you from the class would be.

you gulped realizing he was right. did you regret what happened? you didn’t know. all you knew though was that you needed the class.

“i’ll make sure to get you enrolled in another class though.” he nodded. “and by no romantic relations with a student i mean, it’s because i… want to do this again. i’d like to take you out though, if that’s okay.”

his words caught you completely off guard. he just asked you out? it wasn’t just some in-the-heat-of-the-moment sex, he actually wanted to get to know you.

the smile that made its way onto your face was huge. he pressed his lips together trying to refrain from smiling back. “we'll talk tomorrow, can’t be late to this meeting.” he opened the door waving you over. “you have my number.” he stated as you walked out.

you nodded, giving him a polite smile. his thoughts raced clouding with thoughts of what just happened and what could happen as you walked away.

© 𝐬𝐥𝐱𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞

[pdriesta]

a love like this — 8

an — a series of blurbs based on the main couple of "something real". this is based on this request! i am sorry it took so long, i hope it was worth the wait!

masterlist

the bedroom was calm and quiet, the kind of peace that only settled late at night when the world outside felt far away. y/n sat cross-legged on the bed, her ipad propped on her knees, her glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose. her focus was razor-sharp, her finger swiping across the screen as she scrolled through lists, pictures, and notes. she was the picture of a type-a planner, meticulous in her approach to everything, even birthdays.

beside her, jude was reclined against the headboard, his arm lazily draped over her waist. her leg was slung over his, and his fingers traced absent patterns along her thigh, his touch soft and soothing. his phone lay forgotten in his lap as his gaze remained fixed on her. she looked so cute like this, glasses perched crookedly, lips pursed in concentration, completely in her element. the corners of his mouth quirked up in a smile every time she frowned slightly or adjusted her glasses with an impatient push.

"all right," she said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence. her tone was all business as she glanced at him over the top of her glasses. "we’ve narrowed dinner down to two options. do you want something fancy and formal, or cozy and intimate?"

he leaned forward slightly, his head hovering near hers as he peered at the screen, his face close enough that he could smell the faint vanilla of her lotion. "cozy," he said without hesitation, his voice warm. "mum’s not really into all that posh stuff."

y/n nodded, her lips curving into a satisfied smile as she made a quick note on the ipad. "good choice. there’s this little italian place i found. family-run, super cozy vibe, and they do a special birthday dessert. i think she’d love it."

“sounds perfect,” jude said, his hand sliding up and down her thigh now, squeezing gently as he watched her. “you’re really good at this, you know?”

“someone has to be,” she teased, shooting him a knowing look, her brows raising slightly. “if i left it to you and jobe, we'd be stuck with you boys playing fifa all night.”

he laughed, the sound rich and unrestrained, his head tilting back slightly. “true. but you know she’d still be happy with that.”

“sure,” y/n said, her tone softening as she glanced at him. “but she deserves more. she deserves to feel celebrated.”

“we both do,” jude agreed, his voice quieter now, laced with a genuine gratitude that made her pause. “thanks for helping me with this, baby.”

she leaned into his side briefly, her cheek brushing against his shoulder, and his heart swelled at the simple gesture. “don’t thank me yet. we still have decorations to figure out. oh, and we need a distraction plan. i don’t trust jobe to handle this without supervision.”

jude groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the bed like a petulant child. “he’s going to be a nightmare, isn’t he?”

“you’re both nightmares,” she said with a smirk, swiping at her screen again.

his hand stilled on her thigh for a moment as he stared up at her, his chest tightening at how into this she was. her energy, her enthusiasm—it all meant so much to him. it was more than just planning his mum’s birthday; it was about how she always cared, how she always gave her all.

“what?” she asked, blinking down at him when she noticed his silence.

“nothing,” jude said, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “just... you.”

she tilted her head, her brows knitting in confusion. “what about me?”

he reached up, his thumb brushing along her cheekbone before he kissed her cheek, lingering just long enough for her to giggle. “just love you, that’s all,” he murmured.

she rolled her eyes, but her blush betrayed her. “focus, jude. we still have work to do.”

“nah,” he said lazily, pulling her ipad out of her hands and setting it on the nightstand. “you’ve done enough planning for tonight. come here.”

“jude—” she started, but his hands were already guiding her to lie against his chest, her leg still draped over his as his fingers resumed their slow, deliberate strokes along her thigh.

“you’re amazing, you know that?” he said softly, his lips brushing the top of her head.

“you’re just saying that because i’m doing all the work,” she teased, though her voice wavered, her heart fluttering at his words.

“nah, it’s because it’s true,” he replied, his eyes fixed on her as she nuzzled into him, her hand splaying across his chest. “and because i’m obsessed with you.”

she laughed softly, the sound muffled against his shirt. “don’t let that go to your head.”

“too late,” he said with a grin, pressing another kiss to her temple. “but for real, baby. thank you. this is going to mean the world to her.”

y/n tilted her head up to look at him, her expression softening. “you’re welcome, jude.”

he stared down at her, his heart swelling with so much love it almost hurt. “how did i get so lucky?”

“probably because i felt bad for you,” she teased, grinning up at him.

he laughed, the sound vibrating through his chest. “you’re terrible.”

“and you’re stuck with me,” she quipped, her grin widening.

“damn right,” he said, pulling her closer, his lips brushing against hers in a tender kiss. “and don’t you forget it.”

the next morning, sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, painting the cozy space in warm golden hues. y/n sat across from denise at the wooden table, a steaming mug of tea cupped in her hands. the faint scent of chamomile mingled with the comforting aroma of freshly baked bread, leftovers from breakfast still sitting on the counter.

y/n’s phone was tucked discreetly in her lap, her thumb moving quickly across the screen as she sent updates to jude.

y/n: everything’s good here. she hasn’t suspected a thing. we miss you, though.

she glanced up at denise, who was eyeing her with the kind of look that only a mother could give, one that seemed to see right through her.

clearing her throat, y/n set her mug down with a light clink and forced a casual tone. “so,” she began, her voice bright, “i was thinking we could have a little girls’ day. you know, just the two of us. nails, maybe hair, a bit of pampering. what do you think?”

denise arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sly smile as she cradled her own mug. “you’re spoiling me, aren’t you?”

y/n mirrored her smile, feigning nonchalance. “of course. it’s your birthday week—you deserve it.” she reached for her tea, taking a sip to steady herself under denise’s knowing gaze.

“and jude’s too busy to hang out, is he?” denise asked, her tone light but laced with suspicion, her eyes narrowing just slightly.

y/n shrugged, her expression carefully neutral. “he said he’s got things to do,” she replied smoothly, though her phone vibrated softly in her lap, likely another message from jude. “so, what do you say? just us girls?”

denise studied her for a moment, her smile widening as if she were onto something but didn’t feel the need to press. “all right,” she said with a soft laugh, shaking her head. “you’re better company than him anyway.”

y/n laughed, relieved, and stood to grab her bag from the counter. “don’t let him hear you say that. his ego will take a battering.”

“oh, i’ll tell him to his face,” denise quipped, her voice full of playful mischief as she stood as well, straightening her blouse.

y/n grinned, her hand brushing her phone in her pocket as she sent one last message to jude

y/n: we’re heading out. don’t mess anything up while we’re gone.

“ready to go?” y/n asked, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

“ready,” denise said, glancing at her with a smile. “this better not be some elaborate scheme you and my son cooked up.”

y/n feigned innocence, her eyes wide as she held the door open. “me? never. you know i’m much more trustworthy than jude.”

denise chuckled, stepping outside. “we’ll see about that.”

as they walked down the path, y/n couldn’t help but smile to herself. the plan was going smoothly so far, but the hard part was yet to come. she only hoped jude had everything under control.

the nail salon was a picture of calm—soft instrumental music playing in the background, the gentle whir of dryers filling the air, and a faint lavender scent drifting through the space. denise was thoroughly relaxed, reclining in her pedicure chair as a technician worked on her feet. her expression was one of pure bliss, and y/n felt a brief pang of guilt for what was happening behind the scenes.

beside her, y/n was fidgeting, flipping through the color swatches with half the attention they deserved. her mind wasn’t on the vibrant shades of polish or the serene atmosphere. it was on her phone, which she’d tucked into the pocket of her hoodie to avoid distraction. unfortunately, that plan was failing miserably.

her phone buzzed once. then again. then, a third time in rapid succession.

denise opened one eye, glancing at y/n’s jittery movements. “someone’s popular,” she teased, her tone light.

y/n forced a nervous laugh, waving it off. “probably just spam,” she said, clearly lying through her teeth. the buzzing continued.

denise smirked, sitting up slightly. “spam texts don’t usually come in triplets. what’s going on?”

“nothing!” y/n blurted, far too quickly to be convincing. she hesitated for a beat, then turned to denise with a sheepish smile. “actually, uh… could you grab my phone? it’s kind of stuck in my pocket, and my nails are wet.”

denise gave her an amused look, but she reached for the phone, pulling it free and holding it out. “here you go, miss ‘nothing’s going on.’”

“thanks!” y/n said brightly, taking it with a little too much enthusiasm. she unlocked it and glanced at the screen—and froze.

the group chat with jude and jobe was in full-blown chaos.

jude: WHERE’S THE DUCT TAPE? jobe: WE DON’T HAVE ANY. WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME WE NEEDED IT? jude: I DID TELL YOU. YOU NEVER LISTEN. jobe: THIS IS YOUR FAULT. jude: WE NEED TO STOP ARGUING.

y/n’s eyes widened as it hit her like a brick to the face—she had completely forgotten about the surprise they were planning for denise. her stomach dropped, and she let out a strangled noise that made denise sit up straighter.

“what’s wrong?” denise asked, her concern giving way to curiosity as she watched y/n’s panicked expression.

“uh, nothing!” y/n said, her voice climbing several octaves. she tilted the phone away from denise’s view, typing furiously.

y/n: STOP TEXTING ME. SHE’S RIGHT HERE. I FORGOT. FIX IT.

another buzz came through before she could lock the screen.

jobe: we’re out of balloons. jude: WHY ARE WE OUT OF BALLOONS? jobe: ask yourself that, mr. “i need to test how much they can stretch before they pop.” jude: don’t bring science into this.

y/n groaned audibly, smacking her forehead with her free hand.

“y/n,” denise said, leaning over with an amused smile, “you’re acting like you just got caught cheating on a test. what’s going on?”

“NOTHING!” y/n squeaked, quickly locking her phone. she was failing spectacularly at hiding her guilt, and denise was enjoying every second of it.

“let me see,” denise said, reaching for the phone.

y/n dove—literally dove—out of her chair, clutching the phone to her chest like it held state secrets. “nope! nope! everything’s fine! don’t worry about it!”

the salon technician paused mid-swipe, blinking in confusion as y/n scrambled back into her seat, trying to act normal while clearly anything but.

denise raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching as she fought back laughter. “you’re hiding something,” she said, crossing her arms.

“me? hiding? never!” y/n stammered, avoiding eye contact. her phone buzzed again, and she visibly winced.

denise smirked. “it’s jude and jobe, isn’t it?”

y/n froze, her eyes darting to denise like a deer caught in headlights. “…no?”

denise burst out laughing, her suspicion confirmed. “oh, they’re up to something, aren’t they? and you’re in on it.”

“nope!” y/n said, shaking her head so quickly it was a wonder she didn’t get whiplash. “not me! i don’t know anything!”

denise leaned back in her chair, still laughing. “whatever it is, it’s going to be a disaster, isn’t it?”

y/n groaned, covering her face with her hands. “probably,” she muttered, which only made denise laugh harder.

despite the chaos, y/n couldn’t help but smile a little. as disastrous as the boys might be, she had to admit—it was shaping up to be a memorable surprise.

meanwhile, jude and jobe were knee-deep in party supplies. balloons were scattered across the floor, some half-inflated, others popped. the banner they’d bought was somehow tangled beyond recognition, and the cake sat untouched in its box.

“this is a disaster,” jobe muttered, holding up a deflated balloon.

“just focus,” jude said, trying to untangle the banner with one hand while texting y/n updates with the other.

when y/n’s message came through, telling them to stop fighting and focus, jude let out a breath of relief. “see? she believes in us.”

“she’s the only one,” jobe said dryly, but he grabbed the tape and got to work on the streamers.

when y/n and denise walked through the door later that evening, denise froze in her tracks, her eyes widening. the living room was a breathtaking vision of golden balloons floating in clusters, warm fairy lights strung across the walls, and a table beautifully arranged with a spread of food, desserts, and neatly wrapped gifts.

but what truly stole the scene were the three men standing at the center of it all—mark, jude, and jobe—all grinning from ear to ear.

“surprise!” they shouted in unison, their voices overlapping in a cacophony of excitement.

denise’s hands flew to her mouth as tears welled up in her eyes. “you lot… oh, my boys…” her voice cracked as she clutched her chest, clearly overwhelmed.

mark stepped forward first, pulling her into a warm embrace. “happy birthday, love. you deserve this and so much more.”

“oh, mark…” denise whispered, her voice trembling as she leaned into him. “thank you.”

jude was next, stepping in with a boyish grin as he wrapped her in a tight hug. “happy birthday, mum. hope we did you proud.”

denise held onto him for a moment longer, cupping his face as she pulled back. “you always do.”

jobe was already hovering nearby, shuffling awkwardly but with a proud smile. when denise turned to him, he opened his arms sheepishly. “i helped too, you know.”

“of course you did, my baby,” denise cooed, pulling him into a hug that made jobe groan but didn’t stop him from holding on just as tightly.

when she finally pulled back, her tear-filled eyes landed on y/n, and her expression softened into something almost mischievous. “you had a hand in this, didn’t you?”

y/n laughed nervously, glancing at jude and jobe for backup that didn’t come. “maybe just a little,” she admitted, her cheeks warming.

denise didn’t hesitate to wrap her in a hug, her voice warm and full of affection. “well, you’ve officially earned your spot as my favorite.”

“hey!” jude protested immediately, stepping forward to slide an arm around y/n’s waist. “she’s mine, actually.”

“not today,” denise said with a playful laugh as she wiped her tears and gestured to the table. “now, let’s eat before you three manage to burn something else.”

“oi!” jude shot back, feigning offense. “dad was the one in charge of the oven.”

“and i supervised,” mark added with a grin, clapping jude on the shoulder.

denise shook her head, a fond smile playing on her lips as she took her seat at the table. “you’re all lucky i love you so much.”

jobe plopped into his chair, shooting a pointed look at jude. “she loves me more, though.”

jude crossed his arms, leaning casually against the table. “let’s not get carried away. everyone knows i’m the favorite—firstborn, golden child, all that.”

“golden child?” jobe repeated, raising an eyebrow. “you couldn’t even blow up balloons without popping half of them. i had to fix your mess.”

“fix?” jude shot back. “half the streamers are lopsided because of you!”

denise laughed, shaking her head as she served herself a plate. “you’re both my favorites, and that’s final. now stop bickering and eat before i take the title away altogether.”

y/n giggled, pulling a neatly wrapped box from the pile of gifts. “maybe we should let auntie decide after she opens these. the best gift wins favorite status.”

denise opened her presents one by one, her laughter and joy filling the room. jude’s gift—a personalized bracelet with charms representing their family—earned an emotional gasp, while jobe’s cozy slippers drew an equally delighted response.

“oh, these are perfect!” denise exclaimed, slipping the soft slippers onto her feet immediately.

mark chuckled as he poured drinks for everyone. “see? between the three of us, we’ve got everything covered.”

jobe groaned dramatically, slumping in his chair. “ugh, i’m surrounded by couples. it’s disgusting.”

“don’t be jealous, mate,” jude teased, leaning over to nudge him. “your time will come.”

y/n smirked. “maybe one of the girls here will catch your eye.”

“great,” jobe muttered, shaking his head. “just what i need—relationship advice from you two.”

denise laughed, her hand resting on mark’s arm as she looked around the room. “well, one thing’s for sure: i’m the luckiest woman in the world to have all of you.”

mark leaned over to kiss her temple, while jude and jobe immediately started arguing again over whose gift had been better, their banter filling the air as the family settled in for a night of food, laughter, and love.

hours later, after the laughter and the cake and the countless stories shared, y/n found herself in the kitchen, tidying up some of the remnants of the party. jude appeared in the doorway, his face softer now that the chaos had subsided.

“hey,” he said, walking up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. “we did it.”

y/n turned in his arms, a small smile playing on her lips. “we really did. your mum looked so happy.”

“she was,” jude said, pulling her into a hug, his chin resting on the top of her head. “but let me tell you, next time jobe is on mum duty. you’re with me. i almost had a hundred breakdowns today.”

y/n laughed, her arms tightening around him. “you’re so dramatic.”

“i’m serious,” he said, his tone mock-indignant. “the balloons, the banner, jobe threatening to eat the cake before dinner—it was chaos.”

“well,” y/n said, leaning back to look up at him, “maybe next time jobe can get his hair and nails done. he’d love it.”

jude chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “you’re probably right. but for now, i just want to hold you.”

they stayed like that for a long moment, the noise of the day fading into the background as the comfort of each other took its place.

“i missed you today,” jude murmured, his voice low.

y/n smiled against his chest. “i missed you too. but look at it this way—we survived, and she had an amazing birthday.”

“yeah,” he said softly. “thanks to you.”

“thanks to us,” y/n corrected, lifting her hand for a high-five.

jude grinned, meeting her hand with his. “team bellingham, undefeated.”

she laughed, her head resting against his chest as he held her tighter. the day had been long and chaotic, but in this moment, with jude’s arms around her, it all felt more than worth it.

© PDRIESTA 2025

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