#the voices r loud today ):

[jamandjazz]

My personal headcanon is that Pony got his love for reading from Darry. When Darry was in high school he’d read the books he got in class out loud to Ponyboy and straight up just handed him some of the easier ones so they could talk about it later. In my brain the reason Ponyboy clings onto it so much is because it’s one of the things he and Darry REALLY bonded over when he was a kid and it just brings back good memories of when they got along better.

[yoichist]

hi pooks i’m curling into a ball on ur lap like a kitty

[gales-boyfriend]

yesterday was a i was so sleepy and overstimulated so i grab a plushie and walk into a closet to take a nap on the floor kind of day

[rafecameronssl4t]

Forced marriage au request: I know it was purely a transactional marriage and he finds her annoying, always acting cold but maybe you could write about him going soft, starting to feel something towards her. being a bit confused and feeling protective of her 🥺

Foreign feelings || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: THANK YOU GUYS FOR 2K FOLLOWERS AHHHH LOVE EACH AND EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOUS

Warnings: mention of blood,

Word count: 1,840

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

Rafe’s voice slices through the air like a knife, its sharpness reverberating down the long, empty hallway. You sit in the armchair, your eyes fixed on the TV screen, pretending not to hear him. But his presence is impossible to ignore. The steady rhythm of his footsteps grows louder, the sound bouncing off the cold marble floors, each step punctuating his rising anger.

He finally comes to a stop beside the armchair where you sit, tension radiating off him. “Get up,” he commands, his voice cold and unyielding. The chill in his tone sends a shiver down your spine, but you stubbornly refuse to acknowledge him. Your gaze remains glued to the screen, as if the scene playing out before you could somehow drown out the tension crackling in the air.

“No,” you reply, your voice firm, laced with quiet defiance. You don’t bother to look at him; the anger radiating from him is palpable enough. His scoff is filled with derision, the sound grating against your nerves. “I said get up. I’m not asking, I’m telling you,” he spits, his words sharp as glass.

Reluctantly, you drag your eyes away from the screen and turn to face him. The sight of him only intensifies the knot of irritation in your chest. His jaw is clenched, his eyes flashing with barely restrained fury. Something has clearly set him off, and by the look on his face, it’s bad.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work? What are you doing here?” you snap, suspicion lacing your tone. It’s rare for him to come home in the middle of the day, especially with this kind of energy. Your eyes narrow, trying to gauge the storm brewing beneath his composed exterior.

“Yeah, I’m supposed to be at work,” he snarls, “but instead, I get a call from your mother asking about your whereabouts because you can’t seem to pick up your damn phone.” His voice is rising, the anger simmering just below the surface. You roll your eyes, dismissing the seriousness he’s trying to impress upon you.

“My phone was flat. I was charging it in my room,” you say with a shrug, your tone indifferent, as if that alone should explain everything. To you, it’s a non-issue, not worth the confrontation. “Why couldn’t she just call Anita? Or literally any of the staff?”

Rafe’s eyes narrow, his frustration bubbling over. “Did you forget that today is a public holiday? No one is here,” he snaps, his words dripping with condescension. His hands drop to his hips as he lets out a loud, exasperated sigh, trying to rein in his temper. “She wants to see you at her house, now,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. The demand in his voice is clear—this is not a request.

You open your mouth to argue, to push back against his orders, but the words die in your throat. There’s no point in resisting when he’s like this—volatile and unyielding. “Fine, just let me get my shoes,” you huff, annoyance prickling at you as you stand up. He steps aside, giving you space to pass, but as you brush by him, you hear his muttered curse, low but unmistakable.

“Fucking brat.” The words hit you like a slap, stinging more than you care to admit. You pause for a fraction of a second before continuing your stride, your back stiff with indignation. “I heard that, you prick,” you call out over your shoulder, your voice sharp, the anger simmering beneath the surface finally finding an outlet. You don’t bother to turn around; you’ve already given him enough of your attention.

~

You let out a sigh, the weight of the situation pressing down on you as you shut the door of Rafe’s car. The air outside is thick with the late afternoon heat, but it does little to warm the chill that runs down your spine as you gaze up at your parents’ house. The grand facade looms before you, imposing and uninviting, its elegant walls holding more secrets than comfort.

You wonder, not for the first time, why your mother has summoned you here so urgently. The unease you feel is only deepened by the knowledge that nothing good ever comes from such unexpected calls. As you begin the walk towards the front door, you glance back over your shoulder at Rafe. He’s leaning casually against the bonnet of his car, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes focused on his watch as if your family drama is just another inconvenience in his day.

His indifference grates on your nerves, and you roll your eyes, turning away from him. He isn’t coming inside, leaving you to face whatever awaits you alone. The door opens before you even reach it, your parents’ butler standing there with a solemn expression. He nods curtly, directing you to the drawing room where your mother waits. His silence feels like a warning, but you push it aside, forcing your feet to move forward.

The house is eerily quiet, the only sound the soft click of your heels against the polished floors. When you reach the drawing room, you pause for a moment, hand resting on the door handle. Steeling yourself, you push the door open and step inside. The room is dimly lit, heavy drapes partially drawn against the late afternoon sun.

Your mother’s back is turned to you, her posture rigid as she stares out the window, her reflection a ghostly figure in the glass. “Did you not think I wouldn't notice?” Her voice cuts through the silence, sharp and cold, freezing you in place. A shiver runs through you as your body tenses instinctively at her tone.

“Notice what?” you ask slowly, the words cautious as you take a few steps into the room. There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach as you approach her, the air thick with unspoken accusations. You move towards the armchair, lowering yourself into it with deliberate calm, though your heart pounds in your chest.

Your mother doesn’t turn to face you. Instead, she lifts her teacup with a graceful hand, taking a delicate sip before setting it back on the table beside her. The soft clink of porcelain is the only sound that fills the room, heightening your anxiety.

“Oh, don’t act stupid now, dear,” she says with a chuckle, the sound low and mocking. The corners of her lips curl into a smile, but it’s anything but warm. It’s the kind of smile that sends a chill down your spine, a predator’s grin before the strike. You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry as you struggle to maintain your composure.

~

The metallic taste of blood filled your mouth as you bit down on your trembling lip, trying to keep yourself from breaking down completely. Your vision blurred, the tears that you had fought so hard to hold back now clouding your sight as you stepped out into the harsh afternoon sun.

Rafe was still where you had left him, leaning lazily against the bonnet of his car, his expression one of bored impatience. He barely glanced up at the sound of your footsteps crunching against the gravel. But as you drew closer, he turned his head, his eyes narrowing as he took in your appearance.

“Finally, haven’t got all fuckin’ day—” Rafe’s words trailed off as his eyes narrowed, his irritation quickly giving way to something else, something unfamiliar. Concern? It felt foreign to him, this sudden urge to care about what was happening to you. His eyes widened slightly when he saw the state you were in—your eyes red and swollen from crying, cheeks streaked with tears, and most telling of all, the angry redness of a handprint still visible on your skin.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice softer now, laced with a concern he wasn’t used to feeling, especially not for you. But you couldn’t bring yourself to answer. But you couldn’t bring yourself to answer. The tries you had tried so hard to keep from falling fell, and the sobs that had been building inside you came rushing out, unstoppable and raw.

Your hands flew to your face as if to hide from him, from the world, from the humiliation and pain that you couldn’t bear to show. Rafe hesitated for a moment, wanting to tell you to pull yourself together. But something in the way you crumpled in front of him, so broken and vulnerable, made him pause.

Without a second thought, he closed the distance between you, his annoyance evaporating as he pulled you into his arms. The gesture surprised him as much as it did you. His hold was firm yet gentle, one hand cradling the back of your head as the other wrapped around your waist, anchoring you to him.

It was as if his body moved on its own, instinctively knowing that this was what you needed, even if he didn’t fully understand why. “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice uncharacteristically soothing, a contrast to the cold, distant tone he usually reserved for you. His fingers tangled in your hair as he tried to calm you, his touch surprisingly tender as he stroked your back, letting you cry against him.

For once, his usual rough edges were softened, and all you could feel was the warmth of his embrace and the steady rhythm of his breathing, grounding you in the midst of your anguish. As you clung to him, your tears soaking into his shirt, Rafe found himself torn between confusion and something deeper. This wasn’t how he was supposed to feel—this protectiveness, this need to shield you from whatever had hurt you.

You were supposed to be an inconvenience, a pawn in a game neither of you had wanted to play. But now, with you trembling in his arms, he couldn’t ignore the tightness in his chest, the way his heart ached at the sight of your pain. He had always prided himself on keeping his emotions in check, on maintaining that distance between the two of you. But now, as he held you close, something inside him was shifting, softening in a way that scared him.

He didn’t want to care, didn’t want to feel this pull towards you that was growing stronger with every passing second. Yet here he was, unable to pull away, unable to stop himself from wanting to protect you, even if he didn’t fully understand why. Rafe didn’t say anything more, didn’t know what to say as you continued to cry against his chest.

The world around you faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in that moment—one filled with pain, but also with a strange sense of comfort. For the first time, Rafe allowed himself to be vulnerable too, to let down the walls he had so carefully constructed. And as he held you, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was more to this marriage than he had ever let himself believe.

[pirateprincessblog]

Killer Eyes

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: when a lowly prisoner's eyes meet the ones of a kind young woman, his heart fills with a will to live again

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: song mingi x fem!reader, ft jeong yunho (not a love interest)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 12.4k

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: smut, angst, prisoner!mingi, prisondoctor!reader, prison theme

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: masturbation, body worshipping, praising, size kink, possessive kink, marking, v-card loss, fingering, squirting, creampie

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: self h*rming, attempted s*icide, bullying, violence, swearing, r*pe mentions, unprotected sex

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: oh how i love angst and cliffhangers. also, the reader is not actually pictured as someone tiny or small, it's just the way mingi views her because of her kind nature.

check out sequel HERE

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

it wasn't fair how slow the sun and the moon chased each other. how slow the shadows of the cold metal bars moved on the dusty floor. perhaps it was on purpose. perhaps it was their way of making fun of him. as if they knew just how long he was going to be a cuffed man, and they decided to make it just a little longer.

song mingi sat on his bed. the mattress was heavy from dust, dead skin cells and sweat. it smelled horrible, and whenever mingi would get the privilege of taking a shower, he would rather sleep on the floor, so he can feel cleaner. the floor was swept regularly, yet the smelly old mattress stayed the same.

mingi stared at a can of coke a fellow prisoner had smuggled him. it was empty, the sweet burning of the beverage running down his throat and getting rid of the summer heat for a while. now, his attention was on the cap. he has removed it, the small item ripping a part of the can and leaving it very sharp and dangerous. he played with it, spinning it between his fingers. little by little, he worked up the courage.

he brought the cap to his wrist, the metal cutting in like a knife in soft butter. he yanks it, ripping his skin apart and dripping red liquid down his hand and into his palm. he shook, watching the beads stain the floor. another one, then another one. tears roll down his cheeks, mixing with sweat and dust.

"fuck!" he yells, standing up and banging his head on the wall.

nobody understood. nobody knew what he knew. everybody held him accountable, but nobody knew why he did what he did. as if it was easy to have his hands stained with someone's blood, to have his sister stare at him with horror, to have his body dragged over the floor all the way to the police car, tears and blood dripping down his face. none of it was easy, but if he found himself in that situation again, he would do the same. it was the only way to save her.

loud thuds echoed in the room, startling the man and making him crawl to the corner. he sat, knees firmly pressed against his chest, and body shaking as he sobbed. the knocking on the door doesn't stop, and neither does the blood pooling on the ground.

"do i really need to come in today? you didn't have enough yesterday?"

at the mention of yesterday, mingi clenched his back. the cuts and bruises are still open, untreated, and probably infected. he spent the night pressed against the cold wall, in hopes to help relieve the pain.

the thumping stops, and mingi hears rattling, multiple keys turning, then finally, a familiar creak of the door opening. freshly polished black boots step into the dusty room. mingi has nightmares about those very same boots.

"stand up."

the man on the floor stills, sobs stopping for a moment. he comes to a realisation. yesterday's torture was going to happen again. and today, it might be the end of him.

"what are you, fucking deaf? stand up!" his voice roars, bouncing off the walls and travelling to mingi's already sensitive ears.

he sits still, vision blurry with upcoming tears. the boots take a few steps towards the man, stopping right before him. the guard sighs, then turns around. just when mingi wanted to sigh in relief, the boots are headed his way again, this time one of them aimed for his face. the pointy part of it hits mingi in the jaw, throwing his head against the wall.

"fucking rapist, murderer, manipulator, playing victim games with me?!" with each word, the guard proceeded to kick, punch and slap the man, taking great satisfaction in seeing blood drip down his face.

he pulls his hair, dragging his body across the dusty floor, until he is near the bed. the guard positions the man on his knees, back turned towards him, and head buried in the mattress.

"stop, stop!" mingi begs, gripping at the bed sheets stained with fresh blood and tears.

the fabric is ripped from mingi's body, exposing his massacred body to the one that massacred it. a finger trails down his spine, then suddenly, goes a different path. a deep scream leaves mingi's throat, his nails and teeth ripping the sheets apart, as the guard's finger dips into his wound, picking at it.

"stop, stop, stop!" he groans, mouth foaming from anger and pain.

"excuse me, what is going on here?"

a gasp, a cracking sound, and a scream later, mingi finally gets a second of peace. his teeth let go of the sheets, face relaxing into the somewhat soft surface.

"oh, doctor, please. don't you worry about it."

"that man needs help!"

"this man has his assigned doctor. besides, a newbie like you cannot handle a psychopath like him. you're better off with thieves."

"help"

his voice comes out raspy, tired and painful. he hoped that the person at the door would show mercy, and do as little as distract the guard for a while.

"i'm calling help, mr barnes."

"you do that and i'll smash your head right between this iron door and this stone wall."

mingi's vision is dark, his body collapsing from weakness. he lets go of the sheets, falling on his back and taking in his surroundings one more time. when his eyes land on the figure whose voice he heard today for the first time in his life, he is glad that you're the last thing he sees.

you're furious. you can't believe what this place has allowed to happen. judging by all of those wounds, this isn't the first time. and something tells you it won't be the last one either.

you are told to not sympathize with prisoners, they'll use you as a way out of this place. but how can you not sympathize, seeing the poor man covered in blood and scars, suffering new ones right in front of you? has anyone cleaned those wounds? washed up the blood from his body? assured him that it won't happen again? then did something to make it not happen again?

"i want a patient change."

"prisoner change, you mean?" the supervisor doesn't lift his eyes from the scattered papers on his desk.

"he's a human before everything, sir."

the man throws the pile of papers on his desk, letting out an exhausted huff. you're amazing at what you do, that he knows. but he also knows just how stubborn you are. and he has no patience to compete with you today.

"him being a human doesn't excuse the reasons why he's here, no?"

"i'm just a doctor–"

"–s assistant, yes." he finishes, giving you a tight smile. he stands up, his hands finding comfort in the pockets of the perfectly ironed suit pants. he stops right before you, looking at you as if you're not close to evaporating from anger right there in front of him. "mind your business, love. otherwise, you'll become a marionette in the hands of those criminals. inhumans."

"i am but just a doc–" you try again. a finger finds its way on your lips, catching you off guard and shutting you down.

"then act like it."

he turns on his heel, and in a short moment, he is back in his seat.

"jeong yunho!" your voice betrays you, and you immediately cover your mouth.

at the mention of his full name, he drops the papers once again. the chair falls back when he stands up again, this time marching towards you with a look that you know means trouble. he has you pressed against the wall, body hovering just a little above the ground. he is shaking, the angry veins on his neck popping and warning you to be quiet.

"sister dear, please, follow my instructions so you don't get yourself killed." he says through his teeth. you cough, your hands desperately trying to move his from your neck. "i don't want you to get involved with that part of this building. understood?"

you struggle to answer, so you opt for head nodding. his grip gets stronger, and you gasp, head falling back in hopes to get some sweet oxygen.

"understood?!"

"yes, yes–"

your body hits the floor, and stays there as you try to breathe normally. you're all red and sweaty, hair sticking to your face and your throat feeling as if you fell on needles with it.

"you," you breathe out, glaring at him from the floor," you absolute asshole."

"no matter the blood relation, i am still your supervisor. you take orders from me, and me only. you don't do reckless things, like playing an empath and falling right into the killers hands."

"i just want to help him heal physically. that's all."

"no need. he deserves everything he gets." he is firm with his decision, truly believing that a prison is a place of suffering, not healing and learning of a better life. "if i hear about you stepping foot into the H section, i will personally chain you up right next to him and make you watch."

"you're–" you start, tears spilling down your cheeks from defeat.

"a monster, yeah. very original. talk to me when you come up with a better one." he finishes for you, then sits at his desk again.

you stand still, hoping he might somehow change his mind. but how hopeful can you be, when he just choked you seconds ago? he looks up at you, making you twitch at the sudden eye-contact.

"dismissed."

days pass awfully slow, with you spending them in your office, buried in papers. you are holding a file. one that you borrowed from jeong yunho himself. the printer finally made a sound, letting you know that it is still alive and capable of the task you gave it.

a few duplicates land on your desk, and you swallow. the soft brown eyes look at you from a small picture, and it takes you back to the day you found him gripping the sheets and screaming in pain. your chest feels tight, and you feel the tears gather in your eyes again.

what could he have possibly done to end up in the H section? isolated from everyone except two guards, his doctor, and yunho. no proper food, no normal conversations, no clean water. just four stone cold walls, a dusty floor, and a probably bedbug infested mattress.

you return the file, making sure to position it right as you found it. you return to your desk, and breathe out. in the mugshot you have printed out, a bigger format than in the file, he has dried blood on his face, lots of bruises, and a cut on his lip and cheekbone.

your fingers brush over his lips, admiring the shape and volume. if only you could brush an alcohol dipped cotton ball over it, to clean his cut and feel him under your fingertips. the people of this building intrigue you. especially those who have done heavy crimes and believe they did the right thing. they have their own twisted belief of what's morally wrong and what is not. but this person is something that is reaching deep parts of your brain. it might be that you're only feeling sorry for the way he is treated, but either way, you want to know more.

your eyes look into his. a deep brown, anger evident in his gaze. in that moment, he also believed he did the right thing. maybe he believed now too, that's why he is being punished the way he is. this man might just be the most gorgeous one in this building, but if the guards and yunho keep it up this way, his pretty face will soon be butchered. you let out a huff, then proceed onto the next paper.

PRISONER INFO

name: mingi song

record id: ##############

nationality: korean 

gender: male

citizen: yes

eye colour: brown

hair colour: brown

dob: 09081999

age: 24

height: 183 cm

weight: 75 kg

ARREST & SENTENCING INFO

date: 25122022

charge: kidnapping, assault, voluntary manslaughter, domestic violence

summary: song mingi breaks into the song residence on christmas day, assaulting the partner of his sibling, in the process hurting the sibling and his mother. proceeds to lock himself in a house, threatening to commit suicide and dragging the victim with him. upon hearing the gunshot, the forces run in to find the victim laying with a hole in his chest, and song mingi with a gun in his hand. later on, the mother admits to domestic abuse going on at home, coming from song mingi himself.

you cannot believe your eyes. something smells funny in that paragraph, and you think you have just found yourself a new hobby.

the phone rings, startling you and making you drop the papers into a drawer. you clear your throat, then glance at the clock. it's been two hours since you started your mission, and during that time, you've done a lot of worrying and thinking. lots of it. so much, that you think they'll see the files through the phone. that's why you lock the drawer, before you swallow and pick it up.

"jeong office."

"i'll need you to cover for me today."

"doctor?"

"just do the hospital visits; draw some random check marks, and tell them to rest. do not interact with them more than necessary. i have someone else that needs taken care of."

it's like an early birthday present. to cover her means getting her chip. and to get her chip, means entering the H section. you are smiling, your gaze fixed on the locked drawer.

"hey." her voice is firm. she knows you're up to no good. "no funny business. i very much hate cleaning your messes."

"i grew out of it." you assure, opening the drawer and getting the picture out. you look at his eyes one more time. "nothing funny this time, promise."

"they aren't your level patients, but they're all cuffed, so no worries, doc." the kind guard assures, before opening the door for you.

you are in one of your usual institution uniforms, not the actual doctors one. if anything, your brother had a fashion sense. he demanded colour, and each outfit had to be approved by him before anyone could wear it. your heels click over the freshly mopped marble floor, the hot pink matching with the blouse and the lipstick. your white pants already had a small chocolate stain, which you so cleverly covered up with the silk bow from your new promotion bag. your freedom with outfits makes you feel powerful. as if you're working for a fashion or marketing company, not your brother's prison.

you hold the files tight in your hand, scanning the room in front of you. beds are lined up on each side, every single person cuffed to it. they are all in critical condition; from heart and lung diseases, to broken ribs and sewn faces.

"good morning." you try with a smile, and immediately regret.

they are all loud, trying to stand up and reach out towards you. you're lucky they're in bad shape and have elijah next to you, otherwise, you'd be dead meat by now.

"sit on my face, doc. guaranteed i'll feel better."

"no, sit on mine!"

"i'd rather her sit between my legs."

"i'd rather sit between her legs! ha!"

you're feeling dizzy and sick. they're not like your thieves and fighters from A section. these are real criminals. those who have killed, and will kill again if given the chance. you look back at the doors, making sure the guard is still there. the kind man nods towards you, as a way of assuring you that he will protect you if anything happens.

you do exactly as you were told; draw random check marks, tell them they'll get well soon, and move on. you try to ignore the awful sexual comments directed at you, but each one makes your stomach twist, and you can't wait to get out of here. you are ready to do so, when the guard comes to you.

"come here." he guides you to a door at the end of the room, entering first.

"what is it, elijah?"

the big man turns on the light, and carefully lets you in. your breath stops at the sight.

"he usually gets a detailed checkup, his state isn't the best. i went into his room at least five times today, he hasn't moved an inch. i know, i know, he's dangerous. just... i want to know he's okay."

and with that, he closes the door, leaving you alone in the room with one bed. a man lays there, a man whose face is now familiar in your eyes.

"song mingi." you whisper to yourself.

he is breathing through a mask, thin tubes connecting him to multiple devices. you sit in the chair next to his bed, and pull out a fresh white paper. the clock is ticking loudly on the wall, making it hard for you to focus on not doing anything stupid. he's there, completely exposed and vulnerable to you. and so fucking beautiful. even with the ugly mask on.

"i'm here to do a quick checkup on you instead of dr rachel maslow. i won't stay long, i know i'm disturbing you."

he doesn't move an inch. you gulp, then glance at the tubes connected to his arm. stupidly, you reach out to take his arm in your lap. you notice cuts, old and fresh ones. untreated. your thumb grazes over one, making him jolt and grab your wrist.

"fuck!" you jump, but his grip is strong, and holds your body in place.

you try to squeeze out, nails subconsciously digging into his wounds, trying to defend yourself, but only making it worse.

"let go of me," you beg, "you're hurting me!"

you gasp when he pulls you hard, your body falling over his. you're face to face with him, eyes looking deep into yours.

"imagine how it hurts me."

you gulp. you let go of his arm, hand slowly creeping into your pocket. he doesn't release your wrist, grip so strong it makes your skin lose colour.

"can you make my pain stop, doctor?"

"i'll do my best if you let go, mr song."

"the source of my pain, doctor. please."

your hand stops in your pocket. the injection is in your hand, ready to be used. and he seems clueless, or he knows, he is just used to it.

"you want me to find a way to stop the guard?"

"guard, doctor maslow, jeong yunho, everyone."

you stare in silence, words ringing inside your head. tears have become a regular visitor since you've started working for your brother, but it's always uncomfortable when they announce their arrival. your voice is stuck in your throat, and seeing the man so vulnerable at your fingertips, makes you want to take him into your arms and assure him that you'll protect him. the sun rays fall on him, brown eyes turning into gold pools of honey. he stares at you, eyelids half closed, and grip falling loose. you drop the injection in your pocket, body inching closer to him. an invisible force pulls you, but to tell the truth, you don't fight it. you help it, hand reaching to move the hair out of his eyes.

he exhales, eyes falling shut. you carefully monitor his body language, suddenly aware that you are in the presence of a prisoner after all. you almost choke on your spit, when you see a tear escape his closed eye and roll down his cheek.

"mr song?"

"god, that's the first time i didn't get hit for speaking."

he laughs, tears creating streams down his colorless skin. tears of joy, you guess. he is now staring at the white ceiling, laughing like crazy, an occasional sniff interrupting him. his eyes lock with yours, causing you to twitch at the sudden emotion change. his lip twitches, tears of sadness replacing the ones of joy. your heart breaks at his state, but there's only so much you can do right now, and that is to sit and listen to his side of the story. the justice is in yunho's hands. in wrong hands. maybe better. if it were in yours, you'd set everyone free.

"i forgot what it feels like to be a human. it's been years."

"i'm sorry." you say, aware that yunho has forbidden you to use those words with prisoners.

at this point, you are doing everything that he has forbidden you. talking to patients that do not belong to you, entering places you're not supposed to, physical contact with someone from a restricted section, stealing his files, and whatnot. mingi has taken comfort in keeping your wrist secure in his hand, and is breathing normally again.

"i'm not asking to get out of here. all i ask is to be treated like a human. why is a child molester better treated than someone who just wanted to protect his family?"

"because the world is a rotten place, mr song."

"mingi," he exhales.

"i'm not supposed to-"

"please."

you gulp. one of the rules is also to not get comfortable around them and have them call you by your first name, or call them by their first name. but how can you decline such a polite request?

"okay, mingi."

his name rolls off your tongue like it was made up to fit you. his lips twitch in a weak smile, and his grip on your wrist loosens.

"is there... a chance that i could have you as my doctor?" he asks.

"i don't think so. dr maslow is quite persistent when it comes to, well-"

"dangerous criminals, yeah. i figured."

he exhales, defeated. you want it, you really do. but going against your colleague means going against yunho too, and you do not have the energy for that. not yet.

"but i will do my best to somehow ease the situation for you. maybe move you to another cell?"

"i think the bed bugs will evolve into a new type of dinosaur before i get a new cell. i am fine with it, really. i don't need anything materialistic. only a meal and proper healthcare. that's all i ask."

your heart feels heavy. it really is cruel how child molesters and cold blooded serial killers and rapists are treated better. the place is a sinking hole, and you alone cannot change anything. it is only a matter of time when someone dies from all this cruelty going on. knowing your brother, he could easily cover it up. now that you think about it, it could've already happened, and you know nothing about it. that's how immoral this place is.

"i will do my best to provide that." you assure him, then try freeing your hand from his.

he tenses up, immediately grabbing you back and opening his eyes to look at you, pure fear transforming his face.

"mingi, you will have to let me go."

"just a bit more, please."

"i'm sorry, i can't. if i'm not back in the office in the next fifteen minutes, this might be the last time you see me. just let me do a quick check-up and then you can continue your rest."

the man immediately lets go of your hand, laying still in the bed. you take the time to check his tubes, and write up a quick description of the state he is in.

"lift your shirt up for me, please?"

he does it, wincing in pain as he moves his arms. sore muscles, you conclude. no visible bruises or cuts other than the cuts below his elbow. your eyes scan his torso, and you sigh with disappointment when you examine it closely. he is poorly wrapped up in bandages, blood seeping through it and onto the shirt and thin blanket he was covered with.

you stand up, rolling his shirt up further. his body emits warmth and caresses your fingers as you work on him, making you slightly flushed. even though his state is awful, you cannot help your own feelings. he is a gorgeous man, with the warmest eyes you've ever seen in your life. and right now, you are about to touch his bare skin. it is only normal for the swarm of butterflies to act this way in your stomach.

you start unwrapping his bandage, and he hisses under your touch.

"you'll have to sit up for me. can you do that?"

"i think so." he says, voice raspy from pain.

he sits up, and holds his shirt up so you can work easier on him.

"good job," you say, smiling at him as encouragement.

he smiles back, his eyes forming crescent moons. he almost doesn't feel the pain anymore, his whole focus shifting on the way your hair falls over your eyes as you remove the stained bandages. he can almost feel your kindness wrap him in a big warm hug, and he wishes the feeling stays there forever.

"you're pretty." he blurts out.

"huh?" you say, not sure if you heard him right.

"nothing." he says, cheeks red with embarrassment.

"i thought you said something about me being ugly?" you poke, a playful smile on your lips.

"no, no! you're very pretty, that's what i said." he repeats himself, cheeks so warm he looks feverish.

"thank you, mingi. you're very sweet."

you finally take a good look at his wound. two open lines decorate his torso, remains of dried blood splattered around them.

"oh, god. what is this?"

"that would be a belt." he says, as if it the most normal thing in the world.

"a belt?!"

"a high quality one, too. managed to break my skin. it doesn't do that usually."

"usually," you repeat, scoffing in disbelief.

you are utterly disgusted by everyone at this point. the guards, the doctor, other prisoners, your brother. you are sick and tired. no man deserves this.

"and what about this? does this hurt-?"

"ow!" he jumps in the bed, body running away from your touch.

your fingers retread from his body. the area on his rib cage is slightly deformed and bruised, and judging by the intense reaction made from a light touch, it could mean a broken bone.

"i'll write you down for an x-ray, okay? this doesn't look good."

"x-ray? what could it be?"

"probably a fractured bone. i'll get you fixed, don't worry."

he seems very nervous, eyes big with concern and curiosity as he tries to read what you are scribbling down on your notes. you check the time, and when you realize that you have stayed here longer than you should've, you hurriedly stand up, collecting your things.

"so, uh..." he trails, hands still holding his shirt.

"oh, god, i'm so sorry. right."

your fingers tremble as you search the room for new bandages and wiping alcohol. you are very late, and considering that both yunho and rachel know where you've gone, they could barge here any second now. and mingi will be at fault again. there is no time for you to be as gentle as you wanted to be with him. your heart feels heavy each time you swipe the cotton on his skin and you hear him hiss and flex under your touch. you are nearly done, all that's left is to put fresh bandages on him and check his tubes before taking a few more notes and leaving.

"are you eating properly?"

he chuckles, but not the funny chuckle. the tired, sarcastic chuckle.

"sorry. i forgot that your section is..."

"a shithole, yeah. i eat four to five spoons of lentils, and two cups of water a day. three if i've been good. which is confusing, i always try to be good. he just-" mingi stops, biting his lip.

he has said too much already. he doesn't want to bother you. after all, you are here just to do your own job. not save him.

"just what?" you ask, curiosity overshadowing the fear from your brother.

"nothing."

"you can tell me." you push.

the man stays silent, eyes fixed on the ceiling. he isn't showing any intention of answering your question, or speaking further. he has exposed himself too much, and now you can sense him pulling his walls up.

"mingi..." you start, trying to tell him that you understand and won't push him harder. but he doesn't let you finish.

"i said nothing! get out!" he yells, making you jump from the chair.

his eyes are wide, bloodshot. they are glossy, and you realize that he wants you out of the room before he breaks down. he doesn't want to cry in front of you again.

"i'll be back for that x-ray. i'll also try to get you proper food so you can heal."

you see remorse on his face, but he doesn't say anything. he is overwhelmed with emotions. he feels sadness, anger, and sudden comfort coming from a new person. it is a rollercoaster of emotions, and he doesn't know how to navigate it. it is best to leave him be before he explodes.

"take care." you give him a smile, and finally leave for your office.

a week later, song mingi exits the x-ray room. he is disappointed, his eyes not able to find your face behind the glass among the doctors. maybe you were there, but hid from him. after all, he did yell at you last time he saw you. he couldn't help it. he was scared of anyone and anything at this point, no matter how tough he tried to act. song mingi is just a flower who has surrounded himself with a walnut shell.

the man furrows his eyebrows, seeing that the guards are guiding him to a lower level of the building. then, when he musters up enough courage to ask where they're taking him, the words stop in his throat as his eyes fall on your figure. he smiles, so wide that his cheeks hurt. you smile back, and as you approach him, he is reminded just how beautiful you are.

"good morning, mingi."

he hated his name. it was screamed and drenched in pain and sorrow many times before he ended up here. you saying it, it felt like the name was just given to him. like he had no awful history behind it.

"answer when someone talks to you." the guard hits the back of his head, and the smile disappears off his lips.

"good morn–"

slap. 

mingi looks up, terrified. he looks over at the guard who hit him, only to find him holding his cheek and looking down at your shoes.

"do not, ever, and I mean ever, do that again. did I make myself clear?"

the guard nods, gaze still fixed down.

"did I make myself clear?!"

"yes, yes! perfectly clear."

mingi is mesmerized by your sudden surge of confidence. he saw you as an innocent young woman, gentle and quiet. this, however, didn't shut down the growing interest he has for you. in fact, his heart beat just a bit faster when his eyes met yours. the transition from tough to soft gaze when you finally looked at him had him blushing hard.

"you feeling alright?" you tilt your head slightly, trying to properly look at him.

his head still hangs a little low, too afraid to cross a boundary with his staring and overly friendly smiles. he nods, then slightly bows his head as a thank you.

"that's good to hear. I managed to get you a better cell for your recovery. if you continue being a good boy, they'll let you stay."

you say it playfully, but mingi is ashamed by the twitch in his pants once the words leave your mouth.

a good boy.

he'll be the goodest boy ever for you. just to see you proud of him. after all, it is your work reflecting on him. he will help you leave a good impression in this hellhole. and, if he's lucky, he'll keep you as his doctor.

"right, then. I'll come and visit soon, I hope. take care. and take your medications!"

he nods again, suddenly unable to speak. he wanted to say so much. he wanted to drop on his knees and thank you. he wanted to feel your hands on his face again. but he soon realises just how unprofessional that is. he would rather only secretly glance at your figure one more time, before the guards drag him to his new home.

he is thrown on the floor, the humiliated guard landing kicks all over his freshly bandaged torso. blood seeps through them again, staining the new prisoner uniform you have gotten him.

"piece of shit, that's what you are. no fucking dinner for you, you pig."

but mingi did not care. he stayed on the floor, not bothering to check out the new cell he was given. he only stared as the heavy doors shut, listening to multiple locks turning, before he smiled to himself like a crazy man.

you looked stunning in your blouse. purple is your colour, he concludes.

in the morning, mingi finds himself laying on a soft surface. he opens one of his eyes, the light too strong for him to handle. he sits up, rubbing his eyes, before feeling discomfort in his lower body. he looks down, and soon enough discovers why it feels that way. his crotch is a sticky mess, and it feels hot.

he wonders how that happened. he fell asleep from exhaustion and pain last night, on the floor. he knows he didn't jerk off. and he knows for sure he didn't willingly climb on the bed. now, he either came in his sleep on the floor and humiliated himself when someone transferred him, or he came peacefully in the bed after the transfer. either way, his brain works hard to figure out the reason of the relief.

he barely manages to glance around the room, taking in all the sunlight, before the doors open. then, as soon as you walk in, he is reminded how the mess spawned in his underwear and all over his pants.

your sighs against his ear, your skin under his fingertips, your warm walls swallowing his hard cock. that's why he didn't hear the three knocks for breakfast in the morning. and that's why he didn't feel the transfer to the bed. all because he was having wettest dreams about you.

his jaw is slightly hanging, seeing you approach him so cheerfully. you are wearing a dress, past the knees length, with long flowy sleeves. he spends a few seconds memorizing every curve of your body, so he can inappropriately think about you after you leave. you are lovely, kindness embodied, and as pretty as the first cherry blossom in spring. mingi wishes he could keep you in his cell, just so that he can look at you and feel safe.

he lowers his gaze, scared that you might see in his eyes exactly what he is thinking about. but you grab a chair, and sit in front of him. your finger find a spot under his chin, gently guiding him so that he can look at you.

"you're not supposed to-" the guard steps forward, in case mingi tries something.

"shut the hell up."

the man on the bed had to fight the urge to laugh in the guard's face. he loves your fierce side. as long as he doesn't get on it, it's hot. way too soon, your hand leaves mingi's face. you flip through your notebook, scribbling something down.

"that lip cut looks new." you comment.

"uh, yes." he confirms, scratching his neck.

"cole?"

"yes, doctor?" the short male answers.

"you don't happen to know where mr song got that cut, do you?"

"no, doctor." the guard lies easily to your face.

"okay."

mingi doesn't say anything, in fear of you more than the man behind you. but you only give him a sweet smile, before writing into your notebook again. the pen glides so smoothly on the paper, and maybe he was just smitten, but mingi swore that he never saw such pretty handwriting.

"here's your medication."

you hold out a singular blue pill, waiting for him to take it. he does, unsurely popping it into his mouth, and then takes the water bottle that stood untouched on his nightstand. your intense gaze makes him accidentally spill it all over his t-shirt, and before he can start apologizing, you take the bottle and close it for him.

"good job. you'll heal in no time." you encourage, then hand him a towel.

"thank you." he finally says something without mumbling or stuttering.

"no, no. thank you, for being cooperative and not giving me headaches. like some people." you look over at the moody guard.

the young prisoner smiles, knowing that it will probably earn him a kick or two as soon as you leave. you stand up, closing your notebook.

"get him new pants." you casually comment, and mingi immediately feels his ears heat up from embarrasment.

"i'm so sorry-" he apologizes, again and again, until your hand finds its place on his to stop them from flapping around while explaining.

"stop apologizing for everything. and i better see you in the canteen for lunch soon. got it?" you playfully demand.

"canteen?"

"yes. i worked something out and got you access to the canteen. you can't heal from lentils only."

and with another smile, you are gone.

canteen. he hasn't seen that place for years now. he barely remembers the taste of real meat and potatoes. but he vividly remembers the cold silver tables and stools. the very tables where he got thrown on and beat lots of times, by both guards and prisoners. all because he didn't want to share his bread or give away the little earning of the day he had made. eventually, they stopped letting him into the canteen, simply because his presence alone would cause chaos. he was everybody's punching bag, and as much as he cried of hunger at nights, he would rather stay in the safety of the four walls. well, partial safety. one bully is still better than twenty.

the next few weeks, you visit him often. to give him the blue pill, hype him up, and treat to his wounds. he has healed nicely, and you are proud of him. he is mostly silent, except when he thanks you or apologizes to you. he still doesn't have enough courage to leave the cell to get himself food, so he settles for lentils for two more weeks. until you've had enough, and scold him.

"your progress is going awfully slow, and you're making it harder for me. please go eat something."

"okay," he finally agrees.

he doesn't get to know about you much. you are there only for a few minutes a day, but even that is better than nothing. he gets to stare at you as you write into your notebook, and each night when his hand travels down his pants, his image of you is more and more vivid.

with new fresh pants and a t-shirt, song mingi finally walks up to the canteen doors. he sees so many people, ones he has known, and ones he will get to know. the loneliness is slowly vanishing, but the anxiety is just announcing its arrival. mingi is swallowed by fear. he doesn't want to let you down, but what will he do if someone decides to test him? will he have enough self control?

"you're not getting married, you're just getting food. get in." he is pushed through the doors.

the smell of fried chicken and soup fills his nostrils, and his stomach grumbles in anticipation. his legs carry him to the waiting line, hands already grabbing an empty tray. he blends in so easily, like he was here every day. he announces his order to the kind lady that has always liked him and given him the best piece of meat, feeling fully confident in himself. the lady smiles widely at him, and mingi is happy knowing that he has two people caring about him.

he takes a seat in the empty corner by himself, eyeing the warm soup. finally, he dives in. the liquid drips down his chin as he eats like a starved man, the chicken flavour melting on his tongue. he is lost in the joy of eating, he almost doesn't notice a hand grabbing the chocolate muffin off his tray. but he does, dropping the spoon in the already empty bowl.

"well, well. lookie here."

three men surround his table, each sending him smirks and glares. mingi isn't scared of them anymore. he won't give them a reason to be a threat. for you.

"oh, sorry, were you gonna eat that?" the bald one speaks with a stuffed mouth. chocolate bits fall on the table, making mingi grimace in disgust.

"no, you can have it." he simply says, then moves on to his fried chicken.

"oh?" the men look at each other, surprised by how calm he is. three years ago he would've gone feral on all of them, giving the whole canteen a reason to start a chaos. all for a piece of pork.

"did you want my juice too?" the young man holds the little box of apple juice out for one of them to take.

they're all puzzled. just what was happening in section H that made mingi calm down like this? or was this his new strategy? what exactly was in that apple juice?

"cut the shit, asshole. let's relive some memories, shall we?" the taller one grabs mingi by his collar, dragging him up so that he stands.

"i'd rather not. not in the mood. another day maybe?"

"oh, another day? so you're back for a longer period, huh?"

"hope so." he genuinely says, looking around the place.

"aren't you a dove. almost makes me feel sorry for what i'm about to do to that pretty face."

the third man suddenly starts tapping their shoulders, looking behind at the doors opening. mingi is dropped on his stool, all forgotten. the three men don't move away from his table yet, but their attention remains on the people that have just walked in. and when mingi finally sees it too, his mind and heart have a very difficult time.

jeong yunho, dr rachel maslow, and you, walking peacefully to the end of the line, each grabbing a tray.

"i thought they had their own fancy ass canteen?"

"they do. i don't know what the fuck kinda experiment this is, but i'm not liking it."

"i don't know about you, but i'm liking the view of the chick."

"you think if we kill that asshole that we can escape? i mean, he's right there."

"nah, he's invincible. remember that guy who tried to stab him with scissors? the bastard survived even that. i heard he keeps the scissors framed in his office."

mingi eavesdrops further, in hopes of getting information he can forward to you. but his ears pick up something that itched a certain part of his brain. a click, which set his old self free.

"maybe see how useful his sissy is and serve him her head when we're done with her?"

"i'd rather her give me a head."

"i heard she's a virgin."

"aw, i get to be her first and last!"

mingi sees red. his hand grips the empty soup bowl, and his teeth are biting the insides of his cheeks. he looks at you as you get your own food, walking with such elegance that every woman on the planet should envy you. and then, he sees you naked, scared, in the hands of these awful men. he sees your big, scared eyes looking up at him and silently begging for help, while the laughter of the three men rings in his ears.

one thought leads to another, and mingi does exactly what earned him the section H. he loses himself to his overthinking and rage. his hand smashes the bowl on the head of the bald man, his other hand soon grabbing his throat. 

"i'll keep her safe," the young prisoner mutters, looking into the man's eyes as he fails to beg for mercy.

mingi's fingers dig into his neck, as if trying to rip his throat out. he feels punches on his shoulders and back, and when the man in his hands finally collapses, he turns around. he lands a punch into one's nose, sending him back a few steps. he turns towards the third one, the one who made a comment about being your first and last.

"i'll keep her safe," he repeats, this time louder. he marches at the man, biting into his throat and ripping out a chunk of meat. red liquid drips down mingi's chin, but he isn't bothered. his fingers dig into the scrunched body, holding it in place so that it doesn't run from the death grip that is song mingi.

"what the fuck?!"

"oh my god!"

"who let him in here?"

"run!"

"get dr rachel!"

his ears are ringing, and his vision blurs. but he still doesn't stop, not until life fades from the men's eyes and they lay on the floor, painting the floor red. he isn't sure how long he stays there kicking their bodies, smashing their limbs and ribs, until a pair of hands grab him by his shoulders.

he kneels down by force, the brand new uniform drenched in the blood he spilled. your face appears in his frame, and he sees that you are kneeling, just like him. you are speaking, but he doesn't hear a thing. only the distant echo of their laugh, and your silent pleas for help. he looks down on the floor, and feels terrible guilt when he sees that your dress is  slowly turning red.

"safe..." he whispers.

jeong yunho holds the man in place, while dr rachel fidgets with something in her hands. you send him a confused look, not knowing what the word safe means in this situation. you want to help him, you truly do. but he makes it very difficult.

"i'll keep you safe," he says again, more to himself than you.

"safe from what, mingi?"

"i'll keep you safe."

his body loses strength under yunho, dr rachel already pulling an empty injection from his arm. he is dizzy, but his eyes don't leave yours. he uses his last ounces of strength to smile at you, before collapsing.

"see what he's capable of? you still want to go play good doctor with him?"

dr rachel scoffs, throwing the injection in the trash bin. yunho doesn't speak. he walks around his desk, hands behind his back. he is probably thinking of ways to punish you. but you couldn't care less about what happens to you. you need to know that mingi is alright before everything. then, you need to know what caused the outburst.

"this isn't a fanfiction, you can't change him. he's locked in section H for a reason, and you stay away from those sections for a reason. i do not want you near him again."

"that isn't your call to make." you spit at her, then look over at yunho with anticipation.

"mr jeong?" she searches for support.

but he remains silent.

"so what? you granted him access to the canteen, then brought me there just so i could witness him going feral? you planned it all?"

"shut up."

"you sent those men at him, didn't you? you wanted to create a problem..."

"shut up."

"...so that mingi acts up. and when he does, rachel will prove that i am not capable..."

"shut up."

"...of taking care of such high level criminals, and you'll go back to your bullying ways again uninterrupted. is that what-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

yunho throws the lamp from his desk right at the wall beside your head.

"fuck!" he kicks the little coffee table in front of his desk, flipping it and spilling the cold coffees all over the carpet. "fuck, fuck, fuck!"

tears stream down your face from fear. each time you see him recently, he has less control. it isn't your brother anymore. it's just mr jeong.

"i will say this one more time, and if you bring me into a situation where i have to repeat myself, i swear to god, i will fry his brains in front of you. you'll see him on that electric chair every time you close your eyes, and you'll hear his screams every time you go to sleep at night. i will make the experience so traumatic and gruesome for you that you will need not two, not three, but ten fucking psychiatrists to heal you! you will stay the fuck away from him, stay the fuck away from my files, my prisoners, my business, and my way of doing things! if i see you, no, if i even hear possible rumors that might not even be true, that you stepped foot - not in the cell, but in the section - i will personally serve you his long suffering and death. and i'll enjoy every second of it. have i made myself clear?"

your jaw hangs low, blood running cold in your veins. pure venom drips from yunho's lips, and it makes your stomach sick. you feel like throwing up. he turns around at your lack of response, marching over to you. you run, squealing. hiding behind the armchair, you shield yourself from the person that possessed your brother.

you nod frantically, trying to swallow the lump of pure fear in your throat.

"i don't want to see your face anymore for today. or tomorrow. get lost."

and you obey, running past him and into the hallway. you struggle to catch your breath as you reach your office, and once you're safe behind the locked doors, you finally let it out. you sob, whimper, fingers reaching into the drawer to pull out his picture. the kind brown eyes look at you from the paper, and it only makes your chest hurt from the upcoming sobs.

"i'm sorry," you say, as if he can hear you.

days turn into weeks, and you are scared to even look at the sign that says section H. dr rachel has her eye on you, and you don't dare disobey. you work with a lifeless expression, mind and heart drained of the will to live. guilt is eating you inside out, and it's killing you that you can't ask anyone about mingi's wellbeing.

you haven't seen yunho since that day. and you don't think you have the strength to. you hate him. you hate what he's done with this place. you hate that a place of rehabilitation has turned into one of torture. and you hate that he's corrupted all the other workers. is it the pay? is it their equally fucked up morals? how can all of them be alright with it?

"doctor?"

you turn around, expecting to be given more news about ill prisoners. the flu is spreading like crazy the past two days. but when you see elijah approaching you, your heart flutters. he is usually unreachable, always roaming the forbidden section.

"how is he?" you ask before thinking.

elijah looks around for you, and when he makes sure that he coast is clear, he lowers his voice.

"not bad, but not good. he is holding on."

"how are his injuries? anything new?"

"barnes is beating the life out of him for every little thing he does. so he decided to go on a strike and just sit in the corner all day and all night. he doesn't eat, barely sleeps, and started harming himself worse than before. he wants to die, doctor."

you feel your heart dropping low in your chest, and it hurts. you wanted to help him, and look what you did.

"don't blame yourself. he did it to himself." as if he knew what you were thinking, elijah interrupts.

"he was talking about... safety? do you have any idea what that might've been?"

"keep you safe, that's what he keeps repeating. apparently, he heard a few guys talk bad about you, planning to do something to you, and he lost it."

"i need to see him."

"no."

"make it happen, please. please, elijah."

"all three of us will lose our heads, doctor."

you feel your cheeks become wet, your vision getting blurry. putting your palms together, you beg. "please. for just a second. and then i'll never ask for him again. never think of him."

elijah exhales. "fine."

at exactly two o'clock in the morning on a sunday, you walk barefoot down the hallways, like a ghost who haunts a castle. successfully avoiding guards, you slip into the H section, scanning elijah's code on the hallway doors and letting yourself in. the heavy door waits for you at the end of the hall, mysterious and inviting. mr barnes is not in his usual position, meaning elijah has found a way to distract him. you had exactly fifteen minutes, and five have already passed.

hurriedly, you scan the code again, then as quiet as possible turn all the locks. your breath stops once you get in, the smell of sweat and blood hitting your nostrils. then, you see him. curled up on the floor, holding his head, knees to his chest. sobbing, fingers pulling his hair, and shivering.

you feel the dusty floor under your bare feet, and wonder if the room ever gets swept. it looks the same as when you first found him. slowly approaching, you try not to startle him. he doesn't know that you are coming, and one wrong move could send you flying into the wall. you saw what he was capable of, like dr rachel said. but you also know he doesn't do it for no reason. treat him like a human, and he will do the same.

"mingi," you call in a whisper.

his sobs quiet down, and shivering stops. he sits up, back still turned towards you. the hallway light poorly illuminates it, open wounds on his skin making your heart sink.

"you shouldn't be here," he says, voice raspy.

"sorry, i- i had to. i had to make sure you're okay."

"well, i'm not."

you don't know how to respond. you can see that he is not, you just don't know how to help. there is no time. so you settle for a simple shoulder touch, which he doesn't reject.

"i know. i'm sorry." silence swallows the room. mingi doesn't move. he doesn't remove your hand from his shoulder either. with a gulp, you continue. "can i see you? please?"

when he doesn't budge, your other hand finds its way on one of his wounds. immediately, you realize your mistake. the man stands up before you get the chance to properly feel his rough skin under your fingertips, grabbing you by your neck and slamming you against the wall. your toes barely touch the ground, and for a split second, you are back in the room with yunho doing the same thing to you. only this time, the man in front of you has a full right to do so. you violated his privacy, and he reacted.

"i'm sorry," you choke out.

you sound pathetic to yourself. apologizing three times under five minutes, and still breaking boundaries.

"i don't want... i don't want to hurt you." his grip softens, and he slowly lets your feet touch the ground. "i want to keep you. i want to- i need to have you."

his voice fades as his gaze falls on your lips. you are unsure what he means, considering that he is still holding your throat, but his gaze is locked on your lips. he gulps, then looks into your eyes intensely, making you subconsciously clench your thighs. you feel a rush in your lower stomach, one that you're not sure you've ever felt.

"can i? please?"

"i'm not sure what you mean, mingi." your voice is a whisper, afraid that if you speak louder you'll spook him away.

"i just- let me put it this way. i want to thank you."

"for what? i've done nothing but cause you trouble."

"i've caused it myself. i did it to myself. you only helped me. you healed me, treated me with kindness, and i'd like to repay."

a sudden creak from the hallway makes both of you jump, and you run into the corner behind the door. mingi follows, putting his hands on the wall beside your head and shielding you with his body. footsteps approach, and almost get to the unlocked but closed doors, then stop.

"barnes! care for a drink?"

"i'm doing checkups. besides, with you, elijah? no thanks."

"come on. now that we work in the same section, how about we bury the axe? besides, i did the checkups already. it was my turn anyway. we should be good for half an hour."

"you paying?"

"sure am."

"then what the fuck we waiting for?"

the footsteps slowly drift away. and you thank elijah for his quick thinking and buying you time. your attention is on mingi again, whose eyes are still fixed on your lips.

"my savior,"  he says, hand gently cupping your jaw and thumb caressing your cheek.

"you're exaggerating. i barely did anything to help you. i got you into bigger troubles than you started with and-"

mingi doesn't hesitate anymore. he leans in, still tilting your jaw so that you're almost at his level, and softly presses his lips into yours. you stand there, wide eyed, still processing what's happening. it isn't until mingi presses his body against you, trapping you between one cold wall and one warm one that you finally relax in his arms. you're not sure what to do, or what to feel. you're being kissed and held by a prisoner, and not just any prisoner. the prisoner that is considered one of the most dangerous ones in the whole building. and you're enjoying it. why else would your stomach feel like hot magma waiting to burst.

sensing your frozen state, mingi pulls away. his other hand rests on your waist, fingers subconsciously drawing patterns over your blouse. "let me thank you, doctor. please."

"i'm not sure i'm familiar with this type of thanking," you admit, your cheeks heating up.

his eyes change, from soft to hard, and you're not sure what to feel. yet again.

"so it's true."

"what is?"

"you're a virgin."

"well... yeah, i mean. yes. does it matter?"

"then, the gratitude i had in mind falls off."

oh. oh.

"you should go back before they return. or before i lose my mind."

"no, wait! we have a little less than thirty minutes, i didn't go through all this trouble just to go back."

the young man lays down in bed, hissing a little when his back makes contact with it, then folds his arms over his chest in protest.

"don't be a brat. i came to see you."

"and you did. i'm fine. now go."

"why are you like this suddenly?" your eyes start burning, tears gathering in the corners and blurring your vision. there's a lump in your throat, and no matter how hard you try, it's hard to swallow it. "you're mean to me, when you yourself said that all i've done is help you. make up your mind, do you hate me, or do you like me? do you want me close, or not? do you-"

"what i want is out of line and question. so the next thing i want is naturally for you to leave." he looks at you, almost glaring, before adding, "please."

"don't make this difficult. tell me, and i promise, i'll leave you alone. you'll never hear from me again."

he lays in silence, eyes closed. as if that will make you leave. instead, it brings out the stubbornness and braveness in you, overshadowing your fears. you know what he wants. you are a virgin, but not stupid. if you weren't sure, the obvious bulge in his pants makes it clear. without much thinking, your fingers start unbuttoning the purple blouse, revealing the black bra underneath. you don't take it off, instead leaving it to hang off your shoulders.

mingi's eyes open when he senses the mattress dipping, then a warm body hovering over him. he feels your warm crotch on his naked torso, your skirt hiked up and your bra exposed.

"i can't."

"why not?"

"i'll hurt you. and i already did that tonight, and i won't do it again."

"maybe i want to be hurt."

"you don't mean that. trust me, you don't mean that."

your hands take his cold ones, guiding them so that they rest on your waist. your body shivers at the cold touch, but you don't remove them. instead, you guide them higher up, until his big hand covers your breast. he gulps under you, afraid to move.

"i'd break you."

you lean in, capturing his lips in a kiss. this time, you are more confident, and allow yourself to swipe your tongue across his plump lips. he responds, biting softly into your bottom lip and tugging it, gently sucking on it and licking it. you shiver in his hands, from pleasure more than from the cold. you finally pull away, a string of saliva connecting your lips in a way so erotic that you haven't seen it in movies even.

"please do." you finally respond, a whisper into his mouth.

"and if you regret it?"

"i'll get over it."

with a swift move, mingi's hand yanks your bra down, freeing your breasts and attaching his lips to your tense nipples. you sigh, fingers reaching for his hair and pushing his head into you. his rough tongue swipes over the sensitive bud, lips sucking, while his finger spins the other one. you shake under his touch, never having been touched this way before except by yourself. it feels more intense when it is someone else, and you are dying for more.

"more, please," you beg, pulling at his hair.

"i'll give you anything you want. just ask, doctor. say it, and i'll give it to you."

"touch me more. i need more."

the dark haired man grabs your waist, and like a doll, easily lays you down on the bed and hovers above you. his strength fascinates you, and turns you on even more. you have the urge to feel his every inch under your fingers, but you aren't sure how he will take it. so you settle for placing your hands on his firm chest, just to see his reaction.

he doesn't say or do anything about it. instead, he plants kisses between your breasts, down your stomach, to the waistband of your skirt.

"should i take it off?"

"no." he says firmly. "keep it all on. bright colours look beautiful on you."

"but won't it be difficult?"

"let me do the worrying. you just relax."

with a glint in his eyes, he disappears under your skirt, and you almost yelp when his cold fingers touch your thighs. you try closing them, but his strong grip keeps them apart.

"stay still for me, princess."

a new flood of arousal washes your panties, the new nickname almost making your back arch from the hard mattress. his fingers move your panties aside, and without any warning, his lips press against your folds, leaving a kiss to test the grounds. you gasp at the newfound pleasure, and then moan when his wet muscle swipes across your clit.

"i'll make you feel so good, i promise. i'll repay you. i'll show you how good i can make you feel. just stick around me, please. i'll let you use me for your own pleasure any time you want. do anything you want to me, or order me to do anything you want to you. just stay with me. please."

"i will, i promise, i do." you're lost in the feeling of pure ecstasy, his plush lips sucking and kissing your clit as his finger tests your hole. you clench at the strange feeling, pleasure now being replaced with discomfort. "mingi-"

"trust me. relax." he peeks over the skirt, lips glistening with your arousal. 

and you do, at least try to. his lips return to abusing your swollen clit, tugging it and circling it with his tongue, distracting you from his finger. when he decides that you are wet enough, he slides it in, slowly. he tests the waters, and when he sees that you're not clenching, he goes deeper. he moves in and out, knowing that you don't feel anything just yet, but preparing you for the second one.

he watches as your chest rises and falls heavily, soft sighs and moans leaving your pretty parted lips, and your hair already sticking to your face. he is satisfied with himself, finally living out his fantasy of making you feel good as a thank you. he inserts a second finger, easily gliding it along your walls. he curves them slightly upwards, brushing against the spongy part of you, and when you slightly jump and reach for his hair, he smiles to himself. jackpot.

"does it hurt, doctor?"

"it's a bit unpleasant." you admit.

"it'll be better, i promise. i'm just preparing you so that it hurts less later."

his fingers continue pumping inside you, with each entrance gently grazing your soft spot until you get used to it. when your whines turn into moans, mingi finally gives it his all. his thumb rubs your clit, while his two fingers continue with a faster pace. his lips find yours once again, tongue rubbing yours and letting you taste yourself from him. your brain feels fuzzy, and your stomach warm.

"stop, stop." you try pushing his hand away.

"why?"

"i'm close." you whine, trying to push the feeling away. it feels too soon.

"don't worry. i can do wonders in fifteen minutes."

his pumps become stronger and faster, and you helplessly grip at his biceps, nails digging into his already poor tormented skin. but he doesn't complain. he is too lost in the way you look, pure bliss on your face from his touch.

"that's a good girl," he mumbles when a long moan escapes your throat, your body collapsing under him with pure pleasure. "ride it out, come on."

your hips grind on his hand, which continues abusing your overstimulated pussy. you try to move away, but mingi grips your wrists and pins them above your head, then proceeds to finger you faster.

"please-" you're not sure what you're begging for; him to stop or to give you more.

tears stream down your face, pain and pleasure mixing inside of you and creating a roller coaster of emotions. your body twitches, another orgasm washing you over. the room is filled with squelching noises, and when you gather an ounce of strength to pick your head up and look down, you are shocked to see liquid spraying out of you and all over mingi's arm and bed. the man removes his fingers from you, wasting no time and popping them in his mouth. you watch as his tongue swirls around them, his gaze pure lust as he watches your body recover.

"forgive me."

"for wha- oh." your panties are ripped apart, pieces of fabric hanging loosely from your thighs.

"you're so pretty," he kisses you, "so beautiful," your neck, "so pure," your collarbone, "so kind," your stomach, "and so perfectly made for me."

his hands pick you up from the bed, then gently lay you across the dusty old desk near the little window with your back turned towards him. your upper body shivers when it makes contact with the cold wood, and legs almost tremble. you grip the edges of the desk, not questioning his methods. you can barely stand, but your desire to feel him, all of him, gives you energy.

"you're so small underneath me," his hand flips your skirt over, fingers caressing your buttcheeks and thighs while his other hand works on his boxers. "you fit in my hands just perfect."

you can only hum, too lost in the euphoria. his hand spreads your legs apart, and carefully pulls your hair back so that it doesn't fall in your face. you feel a warm muscle circle your hole, which clenches around nothing.

"i'm gonna claim you, doctor. you'll be mine, full of me. i'll mark you up, let everyone know that you belong to me, and i belong to you."

then, he slides in, making you grip the desk and almost bite into it. it hurts like hell, his thick cock splitting you apart. you almost growl in pain, but mingi puts his hand over your mouth just in time. you bite into it, finding comfort in hurting him while he hurts you. but it doesn't last long, because mingi knows what he's doing. he gently pulls out, then slides back in, and so a few times until your hips willingly push back in search for his cock. you are stuffed, and feel him in your stomach. his hands hold your hips in place, while his lips kiss along your spine and shoulders. every now and then, he bites and sucks, marking you just like he promised.

"you'll be mine, and mine only. won't you? tell me you will, please. have mercy on me."

"yes, yes, i will." you groan, focusing on chasing the pleasure.

"can i stuff you full of my cum?"

"you can, please."

"are you on any pills?"

"no, oh fuck- no, i'm not. just- just fuck me, please. i don't care."

mingi is taken aback by your request. but who is he to disobey you? he finds himself roughly pounding into you, completely ignoring your painful whines. he raises one of your legs on the table, and finally reaches the angle he needed. you bite into his hand again, hiding moans. he would love to hear you, more than anything, but with elijah and barnes right around the corner, it's impossible. another time. if mingi is lucky, he'll get to see and hear it.

"pretty," thrust, "so pretty," thrust, "i'm obsessed with you."

"you look beautiful stuffed with my cock."

"your cunt is the prettiest one i've ever seen."

"i want to see your cumming face every day, forever."

"i want you all to myself."

he chants against your ear, warm chest pressing against your back as he reaches deep inside of you, his pace slowing.

"i want to feel your walls swallow me every single day."

"your cunt was shaped for me."

"i'll have you squirting all over my tongue."

"nobody can touch you except me. not even you."

"and nobody will touch me, except you."

"please, doctor, make me the happiest prisoner in this shithole."

he halts his movements to catch a breath. but you, so desperate for him, move your hips and fuck yourself on him. it gives him a new surge of energy, and mingi can't help but bruise your skin with his grip as his skin slaps against yours, cock kissing your cervix and driving you insane.

"cream all over my cock, princess. please."

he doesn't have to say it twice. the third orgasm has your vision blurry, and you mouth almost drooling. you fuck yourself dumb on his cock, riding out your orgasm and feeling warm liquid spilling inside of you. he grunts behind you, helping both of you get the final touches of pleasure out before pulling out. his cum drips from your hole, down your thigh, and mingi fights the urge to stuff you full of himself one more time. it's enough for one night, he concludes.

"see? and five minutes to spare." he jokingly whispers, planting a kiss on your shoulder where a purple bite sized bruise is being formed. "let me help you get dressed."

you stand up straight, and allow him to take care of you. he delicately buttons your blouse up, fixing your collar, then reaches for his half soaked bed sheet so he can dry your skirt. you watch him as he tries his best to put you together, thinking if this was your best or worst decision of your life.

"wow. just what the fuck did i say? i find you, i kill him."

your legs feel cold, like they were sliced. your eyes widen, and mingi stills on his knees under you. you can only put your hands on his head and bring him close to you for a hug in hopes of protecting him somehow. a few seconds feel like hours to you, holding his body close to you and feeling his hands hug your legs shakily, before he is mercilessly torn away and dragged down the hallway, by none other than elijah and barnes.

jeong yunho stays at the door, a smirk expanding on his lips. he knew. from the moment you met mingi, yunho knew this moment would come. he just needed a puppet to arrange his sentence.

my saviour, the young prisoner said.

yet he didn't know that you would be his death. served as kindness on a platter, only to turn out the biggest bullet of them all.

[parfaitblogs]

never grow up ❀ s. reid x reader

in which you are at the age you never thought you'd live to. 

genre: hurt/comfort + fluff! tags: established relationship. (very brief) mentions of r not eating. depression. non sexual nudity. mention of a past suicide attempt. reader is codependent on spencer #anxiousattachment!! mini argument not really because he loves you a lot!!! please know your triggers ♡  word count: 2.2k a/n: this was a vent write. LOL! i think i switch tenses a lot in this? i tried to fix it. this is why we don't write fanfiction while we're crying!!! i love u i love u i love u and i am so so glad you are the age that you are!! continue to grow please!! life will become beautiful!!!

Depression is a funny thing.

Sometimes you are forgetting there has ever been a version of you out there that fantasised about death and longed for an escape from this world you deemed so cruel, so invasive. Other times, you are sat naked on the cold floor of your bathroom rocking back and forth, clawing at your skin and ripping hair out of your scalp because you are sobbing so ferociously. The world spinning around you and your cries, so violent, are making you lightheaded and you wonder if you pass out here if anyone will ever find you. 

Clearly, tonight, you are the latter.

It started as a small pit in your stomach that morning, that you braved through and ignored to the best of your ability, even as you said gentle 'no thank you's' to food offered by your co-workers and forced your brain to focus on work and not the never-ending abyss of dread in your abdomen. Then, it became a tear or two on your way home, that you vehemently wiped away and pretended was never there because it couldn't be. 

Then you were showering to get your mind off things — a stupid decision, really. For your brain was latching on to every awful emotion it had felt thus far today, and you were stepping out of the shower with an even heavier heart, and your hands were wrapping around your now goosebump riddled body, as you were sinking to the floor in a ball.

And maybe hours passed by you. Maybe days — it certainly felt that way. Maybe it was only a mere five minutes. But your loud sobs felt like they took an achingly long time to slow and quiet down, until they were falling into ugly sniffles of the snot on your face, and a raging headache behind your eyes. 

Loud sobs — scream sobs, really — had a lot of disadvantages. The aftermath feeling of embarrassment of screaming at your brain that refused to simply shut up, the scratch at your throat from every sound you ripped from it. The audio block it gave you from the rest of the world. For you truly were in your own universe when you were howling alone in the comfort of your bathroom walls.

So much so, that the familiar sound of a door opening and closing, and a bag being placed down by the side of it, went entirely unnoticed to you. Footsteps against your apartment's wooden flooring weren't picked up, nor were the first two knocks on your bathroom door. By the third, you were blubbering through saliva and snot, and you had heard it. Followed by a very gentle calling of your name, that had your heart clenching within your chest for a new reason. 

He had said he was coming home tomorrow. Which almost always meant he wouldn't be home for another three days, and so, in your mind, you thought bawling that night could be a secret kept between you and your tiles. 

Apparently not. 

He called your name again when you didn't reply, an added hint of desperation in his voice. Trembling, you stood, your limbs feeling as though they were creaking while you straightened them out. And you didn't bother about the towel sitting in a crumpled heap on the floor, nor the pile of your clean clothes sitting on the countertop. In fact, you didn't bother about anything as a shaking hand twisted the doorknob and pulled it open.

In an instant, his worried frown deepened, and eyes that might usually drink in the sight of your naked body beautifully, now didn't wander further than the scarlet scratch marks along your neck — blood vessels risen to the surface from how fragile that part of you was. He exhaled, and took a hesitating step towards you. One you welcomed by remaining planted in your spot — you didn't know if you could move, though. 

"Can I ask what's wrong, or do you simply want a hug?" 

Both, you wanted to say. Both, but also neither. 

You didn’t say that. Instead, you said, "Hug."

He hardly took a second to register what you'd said before his arms were wrapping around you. If he found the slightly damp state of your skin annoying, he didn't comment on it. He didn't say much at all, as he enveloped you into his body, a hand securing itself on the back of your head, and his chin resting atop your head. 

Water dripped uncomfortably to the floor, splattering on the tiles and his shoes, being the only sound aside from your irregular hiccups and sniffles. His button-up was wet from your tears and your body, and you could almost hear his complaints about it, if this were any other day. 

Minutes passed, and even though you didn't want to, you pulled back, feeling his hands slip around to your waist and hold you benevolently. Your own hands reached up to your face to wipe away tears, an embarrassed laugh escaping your lips. 

"This is pathetic," you said, fingers digging into the corners of your stinging eyes. 

"How?" he asked you.

"I didn't think you'd be home to see me having a mental breakdown."

A smile that didn't quite reach his eyes appeared on his lips. "Well, I am." Fingers squeezed your waist reassuringly. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

You shrugged, wordlessly, your eyes dropping from his face to the damp spot on his chest from where your face had once been, heart stuttering. 

"We don't have to, honey," he said. "But it might help."

"I know it might," you muttered. 

He was silent, as were you. A few more beats passed between you two, before you were turning around to pick up clothes you had left for yourself on the counter. You didn't really feel any different under his watchful gaze as you dressed yourself. Accustomed to the act, or simply too overwhelmed with another emotion, you didn't know. 

He followed you into the living room when you walked out there, and he sat down next to you on the couch you curled up on. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, and he lifted his head on each intake of breath you had, as if about to say something. But you never did. 

So, he took over.

"Did something happen today?" You shook your head, and he nodded his own. "Okay. This past week?" You shook your head again, because other than missing him while he had been stuck in Texas for a case, nothing had actually happened. 

You wished it had. Truly, you wished you had experienced a murder on your way to work, or a distant family member had passed away so you could blame this feeling on something other than memories simply resurfacing. 

You sniffled again. "You know," you began, voice thick and wobbly from the lump lodged in your throat. "When I was fourteen, I didn't think I'd ever be this old."

Your gaze lifted from your lap to look at him, and you let a helpless tear fall from one of your eyes when you locked eyes with him. He was confused, unsurprisingly so.

So, you continued. "I tried to kill myself. When I was fourteen."

He readjusted his posture, eyebrows falling into a more concerned state, and he was silent for so long you wondered if this was when he decided you were too much and too complicated for him to deal with. 

He didn't. "I didn't know," he said, instead. 

"I don't exactly advertise it," you replied, and even if it was an attempt at being light hearted, it fell flat. "I just realised I never thought I'd be this age," you continued when he hardly reacted, "and I've been really anxious and down all week, so I think that realisation kind of sent me over the edge."

"Are you happy you're at this age?" 

Hesitantly, but surely, you nodded your head. "I got to meet you."

His lips twitched, but a smile never crossed his face. "You should be happy for reasons more than just me."

"You are my reason for being happy," you argued. 

"And I'm glad to hear I make you happy, but I cannot be your only reason."

"Why not?"

"Because that's dependency." 

You short-circuited, and he sighed upon realising the way you were taking his words — maybe not the smartest thing he could've said to his still tear-stricken-faced girlfriend. 

"What I mean is you should have other areas in your life that make you happy. Not just me."

"I like my job," you mumbled, gaze relocating to your lap. "And my friends."

"Great," he said, and you could feel his weight shifting on the couch as he nudged closer to you. "As long as I'm not your reason for living."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "You've been my reason for living since we started dating. Why is it different now?"

"I didn't know I was your reason for living until now."

"So if you are, then what? You leave me?" 

"No," his response was so immediate you were sure you could feel the whiplash, and he ran a hand down his face with an exasperated sigh. "I don't want to fight with you when you're like this."

"I don't want to fight with you either," you agreed, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap. "I'm sorry I'm co-dependent."

He didn't respond for a while, mulling everything you two had shared and now, your apology, over in his head. You sat, anxiously, as minutes ticked by until he was puffing his cheeks to let out air, and standing up from the couch. 

He turned to you. "I love you, you know that," he began, and even before he had a chance to finish, you were already drowning him out, world crumbling around you as tears welled back up in your eyes. Maybe if you weren't as emotional as you were that night, your vision wouldn't have already gone blurry, and your heart wouldn't be shattering in your chest already. 

"But?" you countered, a sob escaping you at the end of the word.

He froze at the sound of it, his eyebrows turning in to each other, "Sorry?"

"You love me, but?"

"I don't understand."

"I'm sitting here, sobbing really violently and I look hideous, and you've just discovered I'm co-dependent, and you don't like that about me, so now you're telling me that you love me, but this isn't going to work out, and I need to work on myself before I get into another relationship, and you hope I can find happiness, and—"

"—What are you talking about?" he cut your ranting off, blinking a few times, confused. 

"Is that not what's happening?" 

"No?"

"Oh."

You stared at him, and he stared at you, and you felt your heart slowly pick itself back up from the pits of your stomach, each piece mending itself back together. He wasn't breaking up with you.

"I wasn't going to say that at all. Please don't put words in my mouth."

"Sorry," you said, though it wasn't very sincere. He crouched down in front of you, hands finding your fidgeting ones to hold them.

"Can I finish what I'm going to say before you cut me off this time?" Wordlessly, you nodded your head, and so he continued. "I love you, and you know that, and I don't want you to think I'm upset or mad at you for being codependent. You're allowed to not know how to navigate a relationship. But—"

"—There it is—" he glared with no real heat at you, and your lips twitched "—Sorry."

"But I need you to communicate with me. I'm going to inevitably do things that upset you, because you're co-dependent. We need to figure those things out, because a lot of the time you will respond unhealthily, and knowing what I know now, I don't want to be a trigger in any way."

"You won't be a trigger," you mumbled, and he shot you a pointed look, and your shoulders deflated. "I just feel stupid communicating things like that. Like, oh, I'm sad because my boyfriend is out of state for work and he's super busy and not responding to my messages so I think he might hate me."

"That isn't stupid."

"Yes it is!"

He said your name, eyebrows risen, and he shook his head. "You're upset about something. That isn't a stupid thing at all."

"It feels stupid."

"Okay, well, how about the next time I'm away on a case and not replying and you miss me, which is what that crazy, sad, completely reasonable phenomenon is called, by the way, you communicate that with me, and you see how I respond?"

"What if you tell me to go fuck myself?" 

He didn't even need to verbally deny your words for you to know that that response was completely out of character for him. All it took was one simple look, and you were diffidently smiling and averting your gaze, mumbling a quiet, "Okay."

And yes, the next time he was out of the state and you missed him, as he so kindly put it, you told him. And he spent three hours on the phone that night with you, reassuringly expressing how much he loved you, and how little he hated you.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[hoshigray]

I told you I was going to do it and here I am lmao. Any who reader and Toji are bumming on the couch watching a movie within the movie there is a spicy scene involving 69 that is mediocre. It gives reader an idea to make a bet with Toji to see who can last the longest. Toji isn't budging at first but when the reader mentions that they want to do in the same position within the movie (something they never did before) he gladly accepts the challenge. I'll leave the plot and ending up to you love. I know you will work your magic for him.

69 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒 𝐒𝐎 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄 .ᐟ | toji fushiguro

hehehe ty jazz, i'll do my best for youuu ☆☆☆

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - masturbation (m! receiving) - 69 position - oral (f! + m! receiving) - impact play (spanking + f! receiving) - overstimulation - clitoral play (licking and sucking) - pet names (baby, doll, mama, pretty thing) - mention of saliva/spit. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.9k

“Wow….this movie kinda sucks.”

“Mhm…Aye, y’re the one who wanted to watch this shit.” 

“Well, I mean, at least it’s…semi-enjoyable.”

Toji and you were sitting on the couch, winding down in the living room after a nourishing dinner. One of the many things you liked to do with your man was to watch movies, figuring that would be a perfect thing to do during the downtime to chill and huddle with your man. What you didn’t expect, however, was how underwhelming the movie seemed. 

It was one of those rated R movies batted around within the year, figuring now would be an ideal time to get to it. Welp, it was entertaining enough for you two to continue watching. Now, being midway through, it’s getting a little frustrating to deal with. 

“Oh, okay…” annnnnd now the film has transitioned to an abrupt sex scene….how great. “I guess this is why it’s rated R.”

The sex scene you two were watching was…average at best. You’ve seen way spicier scenes in your life — hell, literal cringey porn you’ve watched with your friends was heavily more explicit than this. There was the rushed kissing, the frantic clothes coming off, no amount of foreplay whatsoever — just heading right into it, exaggerated cries coming from the woman as the guy frantically humps her nude frame.

You observe the scene through a neutral gaze as you lay against Toji’s side, his arm stretched to your shoulder to keep you close. But then, your head tilts when something on the screen catches your attention. 

The camera pans to the guy’s face, who’s lying on the bed as the other straddles them, facing his lower half. For a few seconds, you can only see the guy’s face until the camera follows him going closer to the girl’s ass that’s hovered before him. His tongue sticks out before he propels his mouth to her bottom, and her muffled moans can be heard off-screen with his grunts. 

Loud, amateur sounds aside, the position sparked something for you to turn and ask the following to your boyfriend: “Hey, Toji?” He hums, feeling the vibration of his voice from your hand on his chest. “Have you ever done that position?”

You can see his eyebrows trench down — not bewildered by your question, but pondering how he could answer truthfully. “Mmm…I think so? Been a long while, though.”

You nod aimlessly with your eyes glued to the screen, hearing the woman’s whimpers get a bit louder as the guy grasps her ass while “eating her out.” The thought of being on top of Toji and his mouth and hands on your body like that, you had to bite the inside of your cheek to remind yourself not to get too—

“Why you ask; ya horny?” Well, you can’t be too modest around this man, huh. You finally turn to look at him, prepared for the smirk he greets you with. A smile is all you reply with. “Sorry, baby, I don’t know about tonight. Kinda tired.” 

For a few seconds, you’re on his side. You understand he’s a little fatigued from work today and only wants to chill with his partner. However, a tiny part of you – the devilish cutie side – takes over and slides your hand from his chest. Down to his hard abs covered by his black wife beater, stopping at his clothed inner thigh, resulting in him hitching his breath. 

“Tired?” You say in a soft tune, your eyes peering down to your hand as it rubs on his thigh, inching further and further in. You take note of Toji’s fingers tapping on your shoulder – a silent warning. “Are you sure about that?” 

“You better move that hand, Y/n.” His body jolts when your hand creeps up to his groin, motioning around it with provocative kneads. 

“Hmm, why?” You play coy, placing kisses on the underside of his chin. “You tired of me?” 

He throws his head back at your soft lips, attacking his neck while your hand comes to the hem of his sweatpants. A shaky breath is released at the contact of your cold fingers on his warm erection. “Hmmm…could never be tired of you….Ahhh,“ your forefinger swipes around the glans.

“Then what are you so scared of?” You keep pressing on, sucking on his skin under your lips. His length gets firmer under your grasp, veins grazed by your fingertips. “Scared you wouldn’t last longer than me?”

“Ohh, don’t play with me, Y/n,” Toji grunts, the hand on your shoulder grips your cardigan. His erect cock throbs on your palm, and precum begins to leak out from you, playing with the tip. “–Mmmph…I already told you I wasn’t feelin’ it tonight.”

Liar, you say to yourself, noting him breathing slowly while you massage his balls. “Please, Toji?” You ask sweetly to his ear, his hand coming down to your waist as you stroke him off. “I never done that position before, but it looks real fun…I wanna do it with you.” 

Toji doesn’t give in easily, looking at you with a raised brow. So you throw in another please with an innocent pout and two bats of the eyes to seal the deal. He chortles; how can he say no to you looking at him like that? “Bet I can make you lose within the first few minutes.” 

You beam at him, “Bet I can make you cum first.”

“Y’re not gonna last for very long, princess, I can promise you that.”

A smirk pulls your cheeks. “Let’s try it out then.”

And just like that, with a mutual agreement, the challenge was put to the test. 

So here you are, straddling on top of Toji on the living room couch, both your bottoms and his sweats on the cold floor. Your bare ass out in front of him to see as he lies with his head on the couch pillow. Your front facing his legs, and his dick erected for you to lick and suck on. 

It started slow in the beginning; Toji massages your asscheeks as you lick around the glans and stroke his girth. “Mmmm, just like that, mama,” he praises, egging you on to take in more of him. Your mouth bobbing up and down his shaft, gradually taking in inch by inch until your mouth reaches the hilt. “Fuuck, feels so good…”

You aren’t forgotten either, Toji starting with slow licks, his tongue lapping your labia. You mewl on his cock, voluntarily moving your hips to satiate the throbs of your cunt. Shit, you love it when he eats you out, but this position makes you turn on even more — unable to see what he’s doing, letting his hands and tongue speak for himself. 

And you have to give it to yourself; you mangled to survive for a little while! The first minute was just him warming you up, teasing your folds with swishes to get you real wet as you blow him, his fingers groping your ass as his thumb plays around your ass taint. It all had you riled up, rocking your lower half so much that the man had to station you still for him to feast on your wetness properly. 

It wasn’t until you felt his tongue brush up on your clitoris did shit get serious. One sharp, muffled gasp paired with a jolt from your body. Of course, Toji noticed, his grin coming from ear to ear. “Oh, did I do that?” Yes, you did, you bastard. “Heh, you are not ready for this, baby…”

He says this before stuffing his mouth back into your leaky chasm so his tongue could swirl around your slit with vigor so rough that you nearly choked on your gasp for air. “—Oohh!! W–Wait, Toji, not so—Ahhn!” Fast licks have you squirm, prompting your man to keep you on him with his hands on your waist. It’s hard to concentrate giving Toji a blowjob with him nibbling on your labia before throwing more laps on your clitoris. 

“Wait, Toji, s-stoop; I’m gonna—Nnaaah!” Your fingers clamp around his girth, howling as he bullies his tongue to enter your vagina, his face buried nose-deep in your ass while sucking on your genitals. “Fuuck, oh shit, I can’t…Ohh, ohhh!!”

And just like that, you release into his mouth before you could even prepare yourself. Your trembling figure jolts with every shock coursing through your body. And Toji drinks your essence with every passing wave, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you straddled above him. 

Oh fuck, the clarity you experience is mind-blowing every time he eats you out — whimpers escape pretty lips as your sensitive nerves still receive gingerly laps on your soapy folds. That felt way too good, oh my God…

But it doesn’t stop there — no, no. Not with Toji, too pleased with how he made your legs tremble before him. He snickers while spreading your folds, “Pretty thing, look at you winking at me...Nnmm, so fuckin’ good…”

He brings his mouth back to your cunt, and you jerk from the contact as your body is still not rid of the shocks from the previous orgasm. You frantically call for him, trying to writhe your ass away from him. “Ohhnn, Toji, wait, let me rest for a—Ahhhnn!!“

A sharp pain comes from an abrupt smack to your buttcheek, the skin stinging from the impact of Toji’s hand. “Aht, aht, don’t try and run now. You talked big earlier, even when I warned you.” He smacks your ass again, his fingers digging deep into your flesh to pinch. You scream for him — that’s what he wants. “Now you’re gonna sit right here and let the winner have his fill.” 

You can’t argue with him from there; Toji’s hold on you not giving in to your attempts of mercy — same for his mouth on your delicate labia. The noises coming from there are so raunchy, downright erotic, way more than whatever the hell that movie was doing. You could only wail out your cries, eyes spiraling up to your head from every lap to your clit. No point fighting the pleasure, resting your head on his thigh.

But that was short-lived because Toji was quick to correct you with another slap to your butt. Shit came out of nowhere, almost choking on your spit. “C’mon now, doll, you can’t leave me hangin’ here. Suck me off, princess.” He rubs the pain on your butt away, yet you know he’d do it again if you weren’t compliant.

You bring his fat cock back to your face, licking on the tip while stroking him. You take in the head and suck him in, bobbing your head and coating his length with your saliva. Kisses to his glans result in him burrowing his face into your ass again, hungry lips ravishing your tender insides. Jesus, the way his tongue flicks on your clit has you humming on his cock nonstop.

Oh, God, oh fuuuuck, you remove your lips from Toji’s dick, yet your hand keeps gliding up and down. “—Mwah! Hoohhh, oohhh, Tojiiii…! Again, I’m gonna cum, again….Khaa—Ohhhhh!!”

The second orgasm hits you hard, more keenly than the last, and your body quivers on top of Toji once again. Whines come from wet lips as you descend into your haze, and your toes curl as Toji doesn’t withdraw himself until he’s satiated his thirst with every remnant of your fluids. 

With every jolt and shock flowing down your frame, you use this time to let your body ride this high out, placing chaste kisses on Toji’s cock. That is until you feel Toji suck on your folds suddenly. You jump and quake, turning around to beg. “Stooohp; let me rest, please!”

He gives you a smug look with a playful smack to your hot, stinging butt. “Done being curious now, mama?”

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are wholeheartedly appreciated ☆ dividers by @/benkeibear.

[postracehair]

chicane

max verstappen x reader | 1.6k

you tell max you love him for the first time. accidentally.

cw: r is drunk but happy, max is charming and tipsy, being silly and in love, love confessions

a/n: this came to me while i was taking a drunk shower.

--

You're drunk and tonight was perfect.

The late-night lights of the city rush by as you get closer and closer to your hotel, the cab driver content to turn the radio up a little more as you ramble in the back seat.

"It's just so nice that they all wanted to celebrate you," you say. "And for that one guy to buy us all drinks 'cause he's a fan! Oh, look, Max, that one is so pretty."

Max dutifully agrees and gently keeps you from pressing your nose to the glass with an arm around your shoulders. He's less drunk than you are, though he probably had just as many drinks. After his remarkable win today you're glad he let loose. He deserves it. You think he deserves everything, but a night out with the team and his friends and some free drinks is a good start.

And, god, he looks so good like this. Cheeks flushed, hair a little sweaty and tousled from his hands and yours, shirt open a button or two lower than his usual. You abandon the window and look at him instead, watching lights you were so focused on color his face and make his eyes shine.

You're so proud of him.

He laughs. "Thank you, liefje." Oh, did you say that out loud? The hand not twisted in the strap of your top squeezes your knee. He keeps his eyes on your face, mouth curled into a soft half-smile like he can't help but be fond of you.

The cab driver says you're just about there and Max pulls away from you to hand him some cash and a thought hits you full-force, louder in your head than the rush of his car across the finish line earlier today.

You love him.

Did you say that out loud, too? No, no. He gives no indication of having heard you so you don't think so. But the realization fills you with awe, with lightness, with joy. You laugh to yourself and Max shoots you an amused glance. You'll tell him, probably. At some point. But for now it's like the best kind of secret, new and exciting.

Max slides out of the cab first and holds a hand out for you. Beaming at him, you take it and don't let go as he tugs you up through the hotel doors and across the lobby to the elevators.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

It's like a song in your mind that syncs with the beat of your heart. You probably have for months, now. Maybe even as soon as you met him. How could you not? He's so good to you. Kind, patient, gentle. Funny, generous, intuitive. Quick to own up to his mistakes, willing to apologize when he's in the wrong. He's taught you so much about communication and healthy boundaries, about hard work and discipline.

Max says your name, pulling out of your lovesick musings. "Do I have something on my face?" he asks you, wearing his signature amused smirk and raised brow. You've been staring at him. The elevator arrives and you pull him into it, hitting your floor number and then the close button as quick as you can.

"No," you say, cheerily. "You're just handsome."

He rolls his eyes but welcomes you into his space, steadying you with a hand on your hips as you press your lips to his in the solitude of the elevator. It's a near miss -- you manage to catch the corner of his mouth, but Max redirects you easily for a proper kiss, slotting your lips together perhaps a little sloppily but it's exactly what you wanted.

A robotic voice announces your floor and Max pulls away first, pressing one more chaste kiss to your mouth before threading your fingers together and leading you down the hall to your room.

"Did you have fun tonight?" you ask him. He waves his room key in front of the pad and it lights up green.

"I did," he says, holding the door open for you to sneak under his arm. "Did you?"

You kick off your shoes and look around your shared room. Clothes draped on chairs, your suitcases lined up next to each other on the luggage racks. Max's laptop and meeting notes on the desk, the book you bought at the airport. It makes that feeling in your chest swell even more. You want to share space with him for the rest of your life.

"Yeah," you say. "I always have fun with you, Max."

He snorts at your enthusiasm but allows it, toeing off his sneakers and sitting heavily on the bed. You stand between his knees automatically and card both hands through his hair. He leans back on his palms and closes his eyes, chin tipped up. You could do this for hours, probably. It's always worth seeing him relax, let his walls down. Even when you're out with everyone on a night like tonight, blissfully loose and celebrating, you know he's not quite who he is when it's just the two of you. It's Max's nature to have these masks. They protect him.

But you protect him, too. You let him be himself.

"Are you hungry?" he finally asks, words slurring just the smallest bit. Probably from your fingers on his scalp more than the alcohol, really. "Want me to order some room service?"

It's the best idea you've ever heard and you tell him so. "Fries, maybe?" you suggest. "Oh, and a Diet Coke. For sure. And ice cream!"

"Okay, okay," he laughs, sitting up again and grabbing your wrists so he can kiss both of your palms. "Go shower and I'll call down."

"Shower!" you gasp, your drunkenness making your enthusiasm impossible to contain. "Such a good idea. You're so smart, Max."

He laughs, a bright, boyish sound. You would bottle it up if you could.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

This time it slips out.

"I love you," you say, beaming, without a second thought. "Wow, I can't wait to eat some fries."

You're so excited about this turn of events that you don't register his reaction, don't realize what you've confessed. You just head for the bathroom, grabbing your sleep clothes on the way and humming to yourself.

It's not until you're rinsing the fancy hotel body wash from your skin that you hear your own words in your ears.

You told Max you love him.

The water is warm but you shiver. "Oh god," you whisper to yourself.

Obviously you meant it. That's not the problem. It's just not really how you wanted to say it -- drunk after a night out celebrating his race win, thanking him for ordering you some 1am room service. Max deserves romance. You should have waited for a dinner date, or a night at his place this week, whispered it while you're both wrapped up in his sheets.

But now he knows. And does he feel the same?

You turn off the spray and wrap yourself in one of the huge, fluffy bath towels. He probably does, right? He certainly shows it. Even if he doesn't want to say it just yet you can feel it. In the way he looks at you, the way he looks after you. In his touches, the innocent ones and the not-so-innocent ones, in his gaze and the way he says your name like it's something precious.

He loves you. You're sure of it. You just feel a little silly about the whole thing.

You dry off and slip into your comfies. When you open the bathroom door you find Max tugging off his shirt, clearly planning to hop in the shower, too.

"Food should be here any minute," he says. "They had a few kinds of ice cream, so I got them all."

He turns to you and smiles so wide you feel your cheeks heat. He just looks so happy.

"I was going to tease you a bit," he says fondly, crossing the room to stand in front of you. "About what you said before you went into the shower. But right now you just look so --"

"What, Max?" you ask, pouting a little. He's teasing you plenty, in your opinion.

"Cute," he finishes. "Liefje, you look like a raccoon."

You must look confused because he scrunches his nose at you and cups your face, thumbs swiping at the skin under your eyes. He shows you them, black mascara flecks dotting the pads of them.

"Oh," you say. "Whoops."

"I love you," Max says. "I should have led with that."

Your hands rest on his bare chest of their own accord, feeling the solid warmth of him you know so well. His heart beats steadily under your palm. As sure as his feelings for you.

"Really?" you breathe. You can't help it. Even though you believe him, even though it's not really a surprise, a reflexive sense of doubt swells in your throat. Can life really be this good? Can you have someone who loves you, someone who takes care of you, someone as good and kind as Max?

His brows furrow for just a second before he clearly surmises that you're just drunk and starry-eyed.

"Really," he echoes. He kisses you just once, soft and sure. "I'm going to shower. Leave some fries for me?"

You nod dutifully. "Obviously," you say. "You get some of my fries because I love you."

There's that laugh again -- unguarded, transforming his whole face.

"I'm a lucky guy," he says.

[toxicmalysh]

Aphrodisiac

Word count: 2k

Summary: Wanda slips you a labido enhancer sorry it's late guys rough day at work

Warnings: aphrodisiacs (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), cunnilingus (r receiving), mentions of breeding kink, strap on (r recieving)

Any scene involving aphrodisiacs, drugs, or alcohol should be discussed with your partner/s, boundaries and safe words must be discussed before hand. consent is important people!!

✧⋆✦⋆✧

You walked through the heavy door to your home, dropping your bag to the floor lazily. You were tired and honestly couldn't wait to throw yourself into the shower and bed.

“Malysh?”

Your head snapped up towards the open kitchen, the sweet sound of your girlfriend's voice helping you to relax instantly.

“Yeah Wands?”

You called back, your voice filled with exhaustion.

You watched as Wanda peeked her head around the corner of the kitchen, finding you at the door taking your shoes off.

She could see the long day on your face, and immediately walked over with open arms.

“Oh dorogaya, bad day at work?”

You softened in Wanda's embrace, smiling to yourself before answering.

“It could have been worse, but I'm happy to be home, and with you.”

Wanda smiled into your neck, before turning away from you slightly.

“Well lucky you because I'm cooking your favourite for dinner, it'll be ready in about twenty minutes if you want to shower and come down later?”

You nodded strongly before placing your shoes away and making your way upstairs.

✧⋆✦⋆✧

You were ranting about your day, trying to get out the stress that it had put on you. Wanda however seemed distracted, fidgeting in her chair, almost watching you expectantly. The food was amazing, and she had poured you a small glass of your favourite alcohol to take the edge off. You were surprised as Wanda usually discourages drinking for stress related reasons, but today was very willing.

“And I told them if they were going to transfer stocks into the warehouse, they would have to print out multiple copies of the paperwork, did they listen.. no?”

“Thank you Wands, this is delicious.”

She nodded, her smile widening as she picked up another mouthful of her meal.

“How was your day?”

You exchanged pleasantries as you continued eating, and when you were both done, you decided to help Wanda clear up.

“Did you want to watch a movie tonight?”

Wanda spoke softly. For some reason you felt, not dizzy, but fuzzy? A hot feeling running through you, and a consistent throb was loud between your legs.

“Darling?”

Your head snapped up.

“Yeah, sorry, that sounds good.”

You went back to wiping down the kitchen island. You'd dreamt of Wanda bending you over this counter, pounding you senseless with her strap, making you beg for-

Why were you thinking like this?

Your thighs brushed together as you stood back up and you nearly whimpered from the sudden friction.

Your shirt felt too tight all of a sudden, and your skin was on fire. You sat down on the chair of the island as you scraped off the last stubborn marks. The way your arm moved made your body shake, your hips grinding softly into the chair, and you let out a whine. Your eyes flicked up to Wanda hoping she hadn't heard the pathetic noise, to your surprise she was still cleaning the counter opposite you. You admired the way Wanda was leant over the marble surface, her left hand gripping the side whilst her right arm was reaching across to the wall.

What you'd do to have her behind you like that gripping you ha-

“Y/n?”

You looked up to Wanda, her looking at you in confusion. You cleared your throat, pressing your thighs together.

“Sorry what.”

Your voice was breathless, and you felt your nipples straining against your shirt, if you weren't so lost in this headspace you would have noticed Wanda watching you with a shit eating smirk.

“I said what movie did you want to watch… are you okay?”

You rubbed your forehead for a moment, watching as Wanda leaned back against the counter, her arms coming up to her chest, pushing her breasts up nearly spilling out of her top.

You got up from your chair, walking around the counter quickly. You moved face to face with Wanda, only taking her eyes in for a split second before reaching for your shirt.

Wanda's eyes widened watching your boldness in surprise.

“Please. Just touch me.”

Wanda's eyes fell to your bare breasts, seeing how hard your nipples were, and the whininess of your voice, was enough to make her break.

Her lips immediately came up to yours as her hand cupped your breast. It was so sensitive and the feeling of your nipple rolling between your fingers was sending an immense amount of stimulation to your core.

Wanda wasted no time in pressing you against the kitchen island, her mouth finding your nipple again.

God did it feel good, you felt like your whole body was throbbing, begging for touch. And this stimulation from Wanda felt much more pleasurable than usual. What was going on with you.

“Wanda something's…”

She didn't listen, her lips simply going to your other nipple, biting softly.

You moaned feverishly, your clit aching, your pussy dripping already.

Wanda's free hand came up to your free nipple pinching and pulling at it. You felt your stomach tighten, were you seriously about to cum from Wanda touching nothing but your breasts?

Your hand reached the back of Wanda's head, forcing her head to move back and forth on your nipple. Your head filled with thoughts, if Wanda bred you, gave you her babies, the way your breasts would swell and you could let her taste you.

No, no, something was seriously wrong…

“Wanda this feels w-”

Her words cut you off as she groped at your skin,

“Cum.. malysh I know you want to.”

Her mouth wrapped back around the other nipple switching her movements, and just like that your legs shook, the hotness falling over your body as you felt your pussy spasm around nothing. The coil snapped for a moment, before tightening up further than before, you needed more, you needed much more.

Wanda's fingers hooked your joggers and thong, pulling them down, and she wasn't disappointed by the sight, your cunt was dripping, wetness spread against your thighs. She brought her nose up to your clit, inhaling deeply letting out a low moan.

Your hand gripped her hair again, practically shoving her against you.

She let out a grunt in surprise, usually she'd punish you for being so rude but right now she was intoxicated by the state of you.

Her tongue lapped desperately at your clit, her fingers trailing up your thigh as your hips ground against her face.

Wanda wouldn't admit it, but something about you taking what you wanted from her, not even asking if she was okay, as if she was merely a toy for you to get off with, well she was dripping for you.

You pulled her head back and forth as she wrapped her lips around your clit.

Fuck what if you had the strap and she was this pathetic on her knees for you.

Okay no seriously what is wrong with you.

You tried to think, your brain foggy as Wanda's mouth worked on your sensitive clit, you tried your hardest to work out what might've had you feeling like this but as Wanda pressed into your gummy walls with two fingers, your brain switched off.

After only a few thrusts you felt your tummy coil again, this was ridiculous but you didn't want to stop. Your hips rutted against Wanda's mouth as you whined out.

“Oh my god oh my god.. I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna-”

Your words were cut off by a low growl, your hips now stuttering as that familiar white pleasure filled you.

You stood for a moment catching your breath, looking down at Wanda and her eyes met your. She was licking your arousal off her lips and that sight alone was enough for your clit to start aching again. You watched Wanda's face curl into a tight smirk.

She stood up and you pressed your lips hard against yours, the taste of yourself making you breathe heavily.

Wanda's hands wrapped around to the back of your thighs, lifting you up onto the island.

Your legs spread immediately and Wanda didn't waste time in slipping two fingers back into your sloppy heat.

“Look at you..”

Wanda was breathless, and beyond aroused by your sudden desperation.

“So needy… what a pretty slut you are.”

She punctuated her sentence by thrusting particularly hard into you.

“Such a good whore… I know it aches, turn that little brain off for me, I'll take care of you.”

You felt your pride slipping from you, a red fog clouding your thoughts, all you could focus on was the pleasure Wanda was providing.

Not even thinking your hands came up to squeeze your breasts as if it was a reflex to feel as much stimulation as you could.

“So greedy malysh.”

You let out a throaty moan grinding your hips into Wanda's hand.

“Shut up and fuck me.”

Once again, usually Wanda would spank you for the use of language, but right now Wanda felt nothing but heat rush through her, moving her hand firmer into you.

Your pussy was impossibly tight, sucking in Wanda's fingers and the feeling of you throbbing was making Wanda's mindset fuzzy.

“Fuck I'm..”

“Do it.”

Wanda stood up straight still thrusting as she took your lips against hers, your lips hot and swollen as they matched Wanda's peace.

The pleasure between your legs was overwhelming, you were almost scared for that coil to snap, but then your thighs tense, your nails digging into Wanda's shoulders, and that feeling of relief washed over you.

Your moan was loud and gritty, and Wanda muffled it by kissing you again.

Wanda pulled back from you,

“More..”

You whimpered, the throbbing and sensitivity coursing through you was still so strong and you wanted it gone.

Wanda flicked her wrist slightly, her strap appearing on her hips.

You didn't give her a second before gripping the toy and lining it up with your cunt. Wanda let out a long moan at the feeling of your hand around her.

“God I love when you're like this.” She laughed slightly as she pushed the head against you, before ramming the toy fully into you.

Your body was exhausted, and you let yourself fall back against the counter.

Wanda gripped tightly onto your hips, thrusting fast and hard into your throbbing heat.

“Harder.”

Wanda raised her eyebrows in surprise, she was already thrusting painfully hard, but she obliged, almost tearing through your cervix.

Your walls were hot and sticky and Wanda couldn't get enough of how you felt around her. She was already so close to the edge having watched you fall apart the way you had been.

You moved your fingers, massaging rapidly over your swollen clit. You were surprised at the rock solid bundle of nerves beneath your fingertips but carried on moving as it felt, so damn good.

You were so close, this time feeling a heavy pressure in your core.

“Wands..”

“Me too baby.. fuck.. me too.”

Without hesitation your legs spasmed, your core throbbing widely as your pussy clamped hard, bringing Wanda over the edge, white hot cum filling you.

You both moaned in unison, Wanda's a low grunt whilst you practically whined.

Your body fizzled, and relief filled you as the consistent heat left your body.

You smiled up at Wanda, feeling slightly embarrassed by your behaviour. She nodded firmly, standing up straight as she slowly pulled the strap from you. You lulled your head back catching your breath slowly.

“I'm definitely slipping you another pill soon.”

Your eyes snapped up to hers as everything clicked, your tone a half laugh.

“I knew it!”

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

You asked for Spencer Reid and Reader requests, particularly plus size, and I am so down bad for that man! Especially later seasons him.

Could I have one where he and the reader are intellectual peers but also enemies? Like she's on the team and just as wicked smart as him and into old literature and languages but they constantly butt heads? And the team knows they really just have feelings for each other, but they'll never admit it. Maybe the reader admits it to Penelope or someone one night drinking that he's hot but she never thought he'd actually sleep with her bc she's fat, but she'll take his attention any way she can get it. Maybe Spencer overhears and proceeds to show her just how hot he finds her arguing with him? 👀 Thank you in advance, girlie!

༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

— pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader

— summary: you and spencer hate each other, that much is obvious... right?

— warnings: very surprisingly crude language in this, self-doubt, implied insecurities, misunderstandings, e2l, they're in love and everyone else knows besides them, i made them dorks i don't apologize, mentions of wet dreams, mentions of male masturbation, dirty thoughts, kissing, stripping, vaginal fingering, spencer's dirty mouth, lots of reassurance 'cause i'm a sap, spencer reid #1 consent king, missionary, unprotected sex, sex god spencer?!?! (he does his research), pleasure dom!spencer, switch r & spencer, heavy praise, and a fluffy ending to tie this all up in a nice little bow!

— wc: 3136

⋆ a/n: okay i do admit that this is RIDICULOUSLY long, but i knew exactly what i was getting into writing this and honestly i had so much fun! i don't think i've ever created such characters that have so much chemistry with each other, so cheers to that! (unedited unfortunately :[)

masterlist | AO3

As soon as you hear Spencer’s voice, you make a point to groan obnoxiously loud.

“And just to think I would be able to go home without a headache today.” 

You could feel the glare from said man burning a hole in the back of your head, so you swivel your chair around in order to face the music – in a pleasurable masochist kind of way. His annoyingly handsome face was twisted up in irritation – much to your glee – his eyebrows turned down, and his perfect, plush lips pulled into a deep frown. 

You could tell you had interrupted him saying something that he deemed important, most likely a fact that you and him would go back and forth on, and you couldn’t be more pleased with yourself.

“Funny you mention that seeing as though your voice is the cause of mine.” He bit back, his eyes narrowed into slits. “Aw, you think of my voice?” You tease. “Only in my nightmares.” You wink at him. “You still think about me.”.

“You know what this reminds me of?” Luke piped up from his own desk, drawing the attention from your other intrigued co-workers in the bullpen. “Oh here we go.” Tara said in amusement at Luke’s rambling.

“Back when I was a kid there was this girl that I went to school with, and I would always tug on her hair or try to trip her,” His voice was almost reminiscent. “Everyone thought I hated her, when in reality I was just trying to get her attention.”

“Ah,” Matt said with a smile, “The classic ‘boy bullying the girl he likes,’ or in this case, it’s the girl this time.” Your cheeks began to heat and your eyes went wide, Spencer’s own face and the tips of his ears turning an admirable pink hue.

“Absolutely not -”

“What? No -”

Both Spencer and you stumbled over each other to try and defend yourself, but you didn’t have a chance because Emily’s voice cut through whatever was about to be said next, the woman making haste from her office and into the room with the round table.

“Alright you guys, enough. We’ve got a case.”

“To a job well done!” Penelope cheered as she held up her citrusy alcoholic beverage in the air, signaling she wanted to toast.

You smiled indulgently at the woman sitting next to you, clinking your glass with hers noisily and flickering your eyes over to where a disheveled Spencer Reid sat. You didn’t say anything to him though, because you’re a big ol’ softie and like to let the boy wonder rest before you have him back on his toes.

His eyes met yours the same time your glasses collided. You wish you could say that the vibrations from the clinking was the cause of the shiver that forced its way down your spine, but you knew better. 

It was like the rest of the bar disappeared, the sound of the others joining in on your rejoicing fell on deaf ears. You could have sworn his dark brown puppy-dog eyes drank you in before he looked away and cleared his throat, taking a rather comically large gulp of his water.

Your eyelashes fluttered like a thousand butterflies wings as you rushed to drink your own beverage.

“Okay, what was that!?” You felt Penelope’s finger poke at your ribs before you actually heard her. 

“Ow - fuck! What was what?” You yelped quietly, your hand reaching down to bat away her stabbing digits. “The - the -” She fought to portray her words before her face lit up when she found the correct ones, “The eyefucking!” 

Your stomach erupted in butterflies, “Eyefucking? What eyefucking?” You asked with a scoff, hiding your blush behind the rim of your mug. 

“Oh, please, don’t give me that.” It was Penelope’s turn to scoff at you. “Everybody knows that you and Spencer like each other.” She said it almost like it was a fact, leaning forward to take a smug sip of her drink through the miniature black straw.

Spencer knew listening in on Penelope and your conversation was inappropriate; but in his defense, you guys weren’t really quiet about what you were talking about.

“I -” He heard you begin, “It’s one-sided.” Was all you said before draining your beer. “So you admit it!” Penelope exclaimed with a gasp.

Spencer felt his eyes go wide at her words, but there was this desperate feeling that spread throughout his body; one that caused his fingers to twitch and the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

“When you put it like that it sounds childish!” You complained slightly, biting at the meat of your lip. “I… I’m just not his type you know? Like - you know better than anyone that guys don’t pay attention to girls like us, so you have to learn to improvise.” You were cringing at your own words, but the liquid in your cup was enough to loosen your tongue and lower your inhibitions.

“Was me choosing to constantly argue with him the smartest way to try and peak his interest? No, but I knew he liked a challenge and well… it definitely wasn’t the proudest conclusion I ever came to, but what was I supposed to do? It isn’t like Spencer would date me let alone actually want to sleep with me.”

Spencer wanted to argue with you about how wrong you were, to tell you about every thought he’d ever had about you.

He wanted to tell you about how much you frustrate him, how at first, he thought he hated you and it took him an embarrassingly long time to realize he hated how badly he wanted you; hated how many dirty dreams he had included you and that plush body of yours. He’d wondered how soft you were, how you smelled and tasted. 

Did your moans and whines sound as enchanting as your laugh? Did your eyes twinkle the same way when you were about to cum? 

Those thoughts kept him up at night and his hands in his pants, stroking himself to his unlimited imagination all revolved around you. Those were the days that he was more prone to pick fights with you, mostly because he was embarrassed, ashamed, and quite frankly plain ol’ horny.

Spencer thought you were just so sexy, especially when he had managed to light that fire under your ass that really got you going. He wasn’t a sadist or a masochist by any means, but he loved when you yelled at him. So, for you to think so lowly of yourself it almost drove him mad because you didn’t know.

But you were going to.

You were going to kill whoever was bothering you on your day off.

The knocking was unexpected, but so was who was responsible for the noise.

“Spencer?” You asked in surprise. 

Usually you were prepared for your exchanges with the man, but if your pajamas were anything to go by, you were anything but. Spencer felt his mouth go dry at the sight of your tits sitting braless in a thin undershirt, your soft tummy slightly straining against the cotton material and a pair of shorts that look like they were practically strangling your thighs.

The only thing he could really say was… “Do you know how infuriating you are?”

Your eyebrows furrowed and you crossed your arms over your chest, and little did you know the action pressed the tops of your breasts over the hemline. “Excuse me?” You almost scoffed, “Please don’t tell me you came all the way here just to argue with me.”

“No I - fuck just let me finish.” This was not how he wanted this to go. You looked like you wanted to say something but your curiosity made you choose to stay silent.

“Do you know why you’re so infuriating?” He asked, taking a tentative but careful step towards you. “Because you haunt my every living thought. I see you when I’m awake, I see you when I’m asleep. I can’t… I can’t escape you! I can’t escape how I feel about you.”

Your eyes were wide and your brows were furrowed; it looked like you almost couldn’t breathe.

“But you want to know the worst part?” His hand lands on your cheek and his thumb gently caresses the skin there. “You have the audacity to think that I wouldn’t want you.” 

“You want me?” You asked in disbelief. “But I… but I thought you hated me? I mean - I haven’t been all that nice to you.” You attempt to joke weakly, but your body is on fire; your stomach is tangled up in knots. You were trembling in excitement at his words but in disbelief too.

“Do you have any idea how much I love arguing with you?”

You laughed at his words, your lips slipping into a small smirk as you threw your arms around his neck in an act of boldness. “Oh yeah?” You hummed seductively. “You wanna show me how much?”

“Yeah,” He replied breathlessly. “I do.”

And just like that his mouth was on yours and a long leg shot out behind him to shut your front door. The slam made you yelp, but it quickly melted into a giggle against his lips when he reconnected them.

Spencer tugged you closer to him, and God the feeling of your body was so much better than anything his subconscious could have conjured up. You felt so soft and the front part of your torso pressed against his chest in a way that if he didn’t have you naked under him soon he was going to go crazy.

“Where’s your bedroom?” He didn’t want to pull away from you, but he wanted to do this right.

“I didn’t know you were a gentleman, Reid.” You teased with a dazed smile on your face. “There’s a lot of things that you don’t know about me.” You quirked a brow. “Oh really? How about you tell me?”

“Later,” He said with a lazy shake of his head, “Later.”

His hand reached down to cup your ass, your crotch rubbing on the large boner restrained by his pants. You moaned quietly at the feeling, and found yourself saying, “Down the hall and to the left.”

When you arrived, he couldn’t keep his hands off you; they grabbed at your back, ass, waist, hips. There was so much of you that he had no idea where to start. All he knew is that he wanted all of you right now.

“Can I take your shirt off, please?” His words almost came out as a whine and it welcomed a fresh wave of arousal in your panties. “Take off whatever you want, I’m yours.” A reassuring confession that Spencer had no idea he needed to hear. 

His lithe, veiny hands tugged at your top first, dragging it over your head and throwing it somewhere random. Your pants and panties were next to go and you couldn’t help but shiver at Spencer's intense stare.

“I’m uh- feeling a little vulnerable here, could you lose a layer or two?” 

The man blinked rapidly, his fingers shooting to undo the buttons on his cardigan. “Yes, yeah of course, sorry I -'' You grabbed the shaky digits. “Calm down, take it slow. I’m not going anywhere.” It was a light jab meant to ease his nerves. For a moment he looked unsure but you gave an encouraging smile.

After his clothes disappeared he held you by your waist, walking you backwards until your calves hit the bed. You quickly hurried to scale the mattress until your head hit the pillows.

“God,” Spencer gulped. “This is so much better than what I imagined.” You giggled slightly. “As much as I appreciate your flattery, I want you to fuck me. Now.” You said it with such simplicity that his eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets at your crudeness.

He swallowed his shock. “Whatever the lady wants.”

He hurried to crawl over your leaning body; you cup his cheek in an act of haste, dragging him down to lay on top of you. His own hands didn’t stop their determined trail, tracing the soft planes of your plush body until he reached your wet cunt.

You whine loudly at the feeling of Spencer’s fingers stroking your damp slit.

“So responsive.” He murmured with delighted smirk. You go to say something snarky but you’re quickly cut off when he begins to rub tight circles on your clit. “‘M sensitive.” You gasp against his lips, your back arching and pressing further into him.

His body falls to the side, laying next to your naked one with a cheek balanced on his fist. “I’m gonna make you cum on my fingers first,” Spencer whispers into your ear. His ring finger entered your warmth slowly and he felt himself choke on his words. You mewled, a hand shooting up to tangle in his long, curly hair, the other grabbed at his wrist.

“Then, I’m gonna make you cum on my cock.” After a few experimental twists of his wrist, his middle finger joins the first. Your breathing speeds up with every movement of his digits. 

“Afterwards, ‘m gonna clean you up and take you out to eat.” Your brain could barely process what he was saying, but every word that left his mouth added to the swarming butterflies in your gut – which felt so juvenile seeing as though he was already knuckle deep inside you.

“And when we get home, I’m gonna eat this sweet pussy for dessert.” 

Your eyelashes were fluttering rapidly, your hips moving frantically on his fingers in an attempt to try and get him deeper. Spencer must have sensed what you needed, because with a few firm swipes on your sensitive clit sent you spiraling over the edge.

“Spencer, Spencer, Spencer… I - I -” Your gummy walls squeezed his digits, and the only thing keeping you grounded was the heat coming from his body.

“Wow.” You laughed breathlessly. “Wow indeed.” He mimics with the same amount of amusement.

“Are you okay to keep going?” He asks. 

“Are you kidding?” The look on his face was almost laughable, and you gave his naked chest an encouraging pat. “Hell yeah I’m good, how about you?”

“If I told you I could cum just from watching you, would you believe me?” You roll your eyes and snort. “We’ll find out later, loverboy. Get up here.”

He scrambles to get on top of you, but then stops. “Wait, wait,” He reaches behind your head and grabs a pillow. “Lift your hips up for me.” Your eyes go wide, because who in the fuck taught him that? Though you move a bit slowly through your surprise, he manages to get the soft thing under you, your lower back now elevated.

But all excitement dies out when he realizes there might be no protection, he looks like he could almost cry.

“It’s cool, Spence. I’m on the pill and I… I haven’t had sex with anyone in an embarrassingly long time.” You admit shyly, your eyes casting to the side nervously. “I’m clean too. I don’t really remember the last time I’ve had sex either.” 

You guys make eye contact and erupt into a fit of giggles, “To relearning the art of sexual intercourse then.” Spencer scrunches his nose up at your wording, but you don’t give him any time to retort because you’ve already placed two hands on his face, tugging his head down to kiss your smile-split lips.

He takes the time to kiss you for a moment before reaching down to line his dick up to your entrance. You both shiver at the sensation. You guys disconnect your lips to watch him enter you, your foreheads pressed together and breaths mingled in anticipation.

You moaned in unison when he slowly but surely seethed himself in you fully, and your body tensed at the long awaited intrusion. “Gimme a sec.” You gulped. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” He panted.

You allowed yourself a moment to relax, brushing your fingers through his curls as a way to comfort Spencer as well. After taking a few more seconds to enjoy the raw, intimate moment between the two of you, you said, “Okay. Okay, I’m good.” 

Spencer licked his lips and rolled his hips tentatively, and your breath hitched. A string of whimpers were soon to follow with every drag of his cock against your sensitive inner walls, the leftovers of your previous orgasm leaving your body feeling electric.

Your mouth drops open into an ‘o’ shape when his tip brushes your g-spot.

“Right - right there Spence…good boy - fuck - good fucking boy.” 

The term of endearment was an accidental slip of the tongue, but it had frayed some nerve in his body, because the groan that left him was guttural and hungry.

“Say -” He huffs. “Say it again, please.” The pace of his thrusts speed up as he begs, and your nails drag down his back. “You’re my good boy, Spencie.” His eyes flutter shut at the praise and he doesn’t bother to be gentle anymore.

“Mphm! More - I need more.”

“Okay, okay.” He rushed to balance on his elbow so that his other arm could slip between the two of your bodies to rub at your clit. Your back arched, and Spencer all but throbbed inside of you, his balls tightening and threatening to cum right then and there; but ever the gentleman, he waited, his stomach sucked in tightly and his body jolting quivering.

“I - I’m gonna cum.” 

It didn’t take much to pull you into a kiss. It was sloppy, and messy, and lewd and all of those other wonderful synonyms. Spit dribbled down your chins and with one last hard thrust that almost sent you up the bed, you gripped onto the older man for dear life.

Everything went white as you came; your hearing, your vision, every single cognitive thought you had pretty much flew out the window.

It was Spencer gently wiping the sweat off of your brow that brought you back down to reality, your lungs finally opening up and expanding for that much needed air.

“Hey,” He cooed. “There you are.”

“Hi,” You sighed with a ditzy smile on your face.

There was a moment of silence before you said, “How about we save the oral for breakfast?” Spencer laughed, but nonetheless nodded in agreement. “That sounds perfect.”

“So, what’s for dessert then?” He couldn’t help but ask. “Hm…” You pondered for a moment. 

“How about ice cream?”

“I like ice cream.” But then he added, “But I like you more.”

“Ugh, you’re the worst.” You groaned, covering your eyes, but your grin gave you away. “I like you too, I guess.”

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[eviesaurusrex]

Escaping | Azriel x High Fae

summary: Azriel carries his mate off to a much-needed picnic, away from her duties at the Court of Dreams.

word counter: 3.2k

warnings: none, pure fluff, Az being a simp for his woman, mentions of reader being an empath/reader having empathic abilities, Az’s pet names being always accompanied by “my” (bc he needs to remind himself constantly that she’s indeed his), reader is part of the Night Court ever since

author’s note: This is also my first time writing anything for ACOTAR, so please be gentle with me, but I just had to, okay? Az deserves every ounce of happiness I can offer him. Also: This is my first time writing and uploding anything in a minute, so this is definitely not perfect

Dividers are made by @enchanthings and @sweetmelodygraphics <3

He had planned this little escape for weeks now, always trying to find the perfect moment to whisk his mate away between duties and obligations, only to grant her and himself a much-needed break from quite literally everything. His shadows had been restless ever since, just as their wielder, the growing stress and frustration traveling along their strong mating bond only a figment of an indication of how she grew to feel every morning she awoke to tend to the court and their cause to protect and free Prythian in the War looming on the horizon.

And today had been finally the perfect day—due to Rhys’ helping hand after he had seen the growing and building anxiety of his brother.

“Is it not strange how adamant Rhys has acted earlier? I think it’s weird. Do you think I should go and check up on him later? Maybe trying to ease his mind? I think I should.” Her sweet, melodic voice filled the warm air, and a rare chuckle escaped the spymaster at her fast-working mind. Gently, he took the blanket out of her arms, placing it over the arm that already carried the basket filled with all her favorites, and tenderly, his free arm found its home around her waist, pulling her closer to his side.

A perfect fit. It was as if the Mother and the Cauldron had molded them to fit just as perfectly as two puzzle pieces. Made for one another… He still couldn’t grasp how his lifelong wish had been answered and granted after so many centuries.

Azriel’s head dipped to press a lingering kiss to her temple, his nose slightly buried in her soft strands, the soothing scent overpowering the scents wafting around them. “Will you scold me if I tell you how I asked him to give us at least today to ourselves?” His voice was soft, tender, a loving and humored edge to it. Hazel eyes began to twinkle as she looked up at him, meeting his gaze, not surprised in the slightest at his revelation, and the teasing twinkle in her eyes in return made his lips twitch into a smile. “Did you now?” She teased and nudged his side, tickling Az because she knew of every existing weak spot—the only person aside from Cassian and Rhys. Her growing smile made him feel light, free, and still, it was the most exhilarating thing he had ever achieved in his long life; felt as if his heart might explode any second when she turned and stretched slightly to press a kiss to his jawline. Reaching further wasn’t possible with the towering male walking beside her. “Thank you, my love.” Only a whisper, but loud enough to travel to his ears, accompanied by the warm and fuzzy feeling sent down the bond by her.

Another pull with the arm around her waist put her even closer—if that was even possible—and Azriel couldn’t hold back the urge within him to kiss her soft lips he had already kissed so often ever since they had accepted their mating bond. Still, it wasn’t often enough, in his opinion. Giving in, the shadowsinger stopped their path in the hidden passageway towards the lush green rolling hills along the coast of Velaris and slowly bent his body, letting their noses run alongside one another. “Nothing to thank me for, my darling,” he hummed, lips almost already touching in the softest of kisses, and he felt her fingers run through the short hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to her and letting their lips melt into one. Neither he nor she could tell where the kiss started and where it ended, where his lips began and hers ended.

The low rumble of her stomach put a pause to their antics, and Az hummed once again before entwining their fingers and continued on their path. “Let’s find a place where we can ease that growl, my darling.”

Wildflowers of all kinds surrounded the place they had finally settled on—the glittering ocean right next to them, the rolling green hills as far as sight could reach, and Velaris in the close distance, beautiful as it had always been. Az had made himself comfortable on the blanket, the picnic basket opened right next to him, his body propped up on his forearms, and his eyes followed his mate as she strolled through the flowers. He could see her fingertips gracing the soft petals that stretched their colorful heads towards the sun, his shadows slowly, almost lazily winding around her wrist and fingers, always keeping her company, making sure she was alright. Not that Azriel minded their own ways, but sometimes he suspected they might abandon him entirely for her if they had the chance—and the shadowsinger couldn’t blame them either. He would do the same if it meant being at her side at all times.

“Eat at least a bite,” he now called over to her as she picked the first flower. She only spared a quick glance at him, but her radiant smile couldn’t fool him, nor could it hide the roll of her eyes. “Yes, yes. Only a minute, love.” Azriel himself rolled his eyes now, but the tuck at his lips was too strong to withstand it. Not when they were alone, not when she was the cause of that rare smile sneaking its way onto his face.

So, he watched her while already eating some of the fresh berries, patiently waiting, eyes moving when she moved toward the next flower in full bloom, bending down to pick her, placing the delicate thing in the soft embrace of her arm he knew wouldn’t dare crush her new possession. She wasn’t violent or cruel to beings who couldn’t defend themselves, who didn’t possess a single malicious thought in their entire body. And even for those who might commit evil deeds, she still held compassion if necessary. By the Cauldron, she even had accepted him from the very beginning of their friendship all those centuries ago when Rhys had brought her into the Court of Dreams, right after the War had been won.

A sigh left him when she finally strolled toward him in her pretty flowy dress, hair flowing in the warm breeze, her smile growing the closer she got to him. “What am I supposed to do with you, hm?” Az had pushed himself from his arms into a sitting position, legs slightly crossed, an arm resting on his muscular thigh, while the other reached for her, enveloping her fingers as she sank onto the blanket and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. The sound of his wings stretching and rustling behind him accompanied her adorable chuckle, and he almost melted at the sight of her shining eyes when she pressed his scarred palm against her cheek, her lips leaving a warm mark on it, letting him forget about the pain of the past in an instant.

She had that power over him.

“Az, you had more than four centuries to get used to my antics.” Grinning, her lips pressed another set of kisses to his palm before letting his hand sink onto her knee, where it immediately started to wander and found its place on her thigh, squeezing it tenderly. “I should know by now, you mean?” A nod followed his question, grin still prominent on her lips, but he felt her concentration slip toward the many flowers she had sprayed over the blanket in front of her, and her soft and delicate fingers had already started to weave some of them together. “Perhaps even a lifetime isn’t long enough,” he dared to hum and tease, moving closer toward her side and holding a strawberry in front of her lips. The tip of Azriel’s nose nudged her temple, and she took a bite, sighing in satisfaction. “Perhaps.” The sweet berry muffled her words, and without thinking or even considering he was prepared for it, the woman scooted closer and leaned backward, pressing her back against her mate’s strong chest—because he had been ready. He was always ready and always there if she needed or craved anything.

Even though the bond had taken its sweet time before it had finally snapped into place, they had been close from the beginning, a mutual feeling of closeness and understanding the root and foundation of their slowly blooming friendship. And over the decades and centuries, they had started to learn to know one another. Now, with the bond in its rightful place, it all was merely heightened; no longer a want to fulfill anything they wished for, but an urging need. So Az just knew without thinking when she needed his arms wrapped tightly around her body, his chest pressing against her back like a steadfast wall in a sea of uncertainty and fear.

His chin rested on her right shoulder, the strong and powerful wings softly tucked behind his back, granting the sunlight to kiss and warm her skin while she weaved flower after flower in a steadily growing circle.

“When all of this is over…” The soft voice of his mate traveled alongside the warm breeze. “When all is over, I’d like to leave for a while. Just… the two of us. Somewhere enjoying life itself, forgetting about War, bloodshed, and intrigues. Healing and growing,” she continued even softer, reminding him once again of her calm and peaceful nature, and Azriel felt how she longed for all those things after everything that had happened in the past fifty years. He didn’t dare to think about all that had happened Under the Mountain when she had been forced to live there, didn’t try to recollect everything she had shared with him in those days after Rhys and she had finally returned to Velaris.

All that was important was the exploding sensation of relief since she had followed Rhys over the threshold in the House of Wind, stepping out of the shadow of his broad back and came running right to him. That immaculate sensation had been his companion since that day.

Burrowing his face into the warm crook of her neck, the spymaster released a deep breath. “Whatever you wish, my darling,” he whispered against her skin, making her giggle and squirm in his grasp. “Az! Stop it, or my flower crown will be ruined!” He hid the growing smirk against her skin and nipped at one of her weak spots, making it tickle once more. “They always turn out beautiful.” Azriel could practically feel the playful roll of her eyes at his words, and dutifully, he picked the next flower for her to weave into the growing circle before a small lemon tart found its way to her lips, reminding his mate that they indeed had something else in mind when they had left the House of Wind earlier.

The deep, soft sighing after the first bite of the masterfully baked tart warmed his heart, and Azriel didn’t object in the slightest when the small cake was eaten within a heartbeat, her sweet tooth demanding even more after weeks of relinquishment because they had all been so busy with the preparations for the meeting with Prythian’s High Lords.

“Another one?” He whispered quietly as the shadows now surrounded their legs, resting like they did. “Do we have one of these tiny strawberry cakes we had for Starfall?” Immediately, the memory of the last festivities occupied his mind as he looked for the mentioned dessert and presented it to her like an offering to the gods in his open, scarred palm. “My Lady.” She chuckled at that and abandoned the almost finished flower crown with a gentle “Thank you, my Lord,” only to take the delicate cake and took a savoring bite out of it.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you looked at Starfall? More radiant as the stars…” Az’s voice trailed off into the distance, pictures of that night clouding his mind once again. As she turned her head to look at him with that one smile entirely reserved for his eyes, he pulled back and let her kiss his lips in a heart-wrenchingly soft kiss. “You told me that countless times, my love. Especially when you see the dress hanging in the armoire.” She grinned at that, making him almost blush. “But do I need to remind you how handsome and dashing you looked that night? All those ladies turning and twisting their heads as soon as you walked through the room…” Even though she knew that no one could take her mate, the bitter feeling of jealousy boiled in her blood for just a second before it vanished at the glowing and warm, but also shadowy feeling of their bond, reminding her once again that they were bound for the rest of their existence.

“No need to be jealous, my darling. There was never anyone but you, and there will never be anyone but you.”

His index finger under her chin moved her face upward to face him, skin touching skin and lips brushing over even softer lips. “I know,” she whispered against Azriel, and for a moment, she leaned her forehead against the strong line of his jaw, feeling him pressing a tender kiss on her hairline.

A rumble in the far-off distance let them look up at last, and both watched the building and rolling clouds over the sea, knowing that rain was a mere thought away. But still, they took their time.

Az continued to feed them both, watching her tirelessly weaving flower after flower into the crown, humming a tune they had danced to countless times by now and savoring the warmth radiating off his body. “Another one for Elain?” Azriel dared to ask as she seemed to be done. All the flowers she had gathered were woven into a beautiful, intricate pattern, and none were wasted. His mate had started to bring Elain flowers and plants in all their forms, especially ones only growing in their lands and not behind the wall, explaining their nature, natural habitats, uses, and sometimes hidden beauty. She was so soft and gentle with the young female that Azriel had to ask himself—more often than not, if he was honest—if she would be like this to their children if they ever were allowed that sort of happiness.

He let her sit up and turn onto her knees, holding the crown in her delicate fingers. She shook her head, an unsure smile now surfacing on her lips, as she softly placed it on top of his dark hair. “I never made one for you, my love.” He was stunned, not daring to move nor touch the petals now resting on his head. “You don’t have to keep it, of course. If you don’t like it, I can just bring it to Elain, and we’ll forget about it. It’s silly anywa-” He stopped her right then and there by pulling her close and kissing her fiercely, only holding himself back from roaring down their bond and scaring the living daylights out of her. He took great pride in the fact how breathless his mate was when Az finally ended the kiss, how gleaming her eyes were when she looked at him, how the blush that had crept to her cheeks made them glow, how her fingers gripped the fabric over his chest to steady herself. “Don’t you dare take it,” he growled and kissed her once more, shorter this time, less desperate, and still tickled those delicious sounds out of her body he still kept reveling in, even after all this time.

The first drop falling from the heavens made them part, and while she started to collect their things to pack them safely into the basket and fold the picnic blanket, Azriel spread his wings to protect his mate from the mighty raindrops. When they were ready to winnow to the barriers of the House of Wind, the summer downpour had already picked up its intensity and soaked the two from head to toe. However, their laughter still lingered over their sacred space of Velaris even after they winnowed away.

Feyre’s brows creased in worry as she looked out the many windows in the palace atop the mountain, overlooking Velaris during the downpour that had been foreseen. The heavy drops splattered against the glass, making it difficult to discern any shape moving in the distance. She knew the rain wouldn’t harm them, but the thunderstorm rolling over the hills induced an anxiety within her that she could barely contain.

“Feyre, darling?”

Rhys’ voice let her spin away from the windows, facing her mate who had stood from his desk he had worked on for the past couple of hours, and walked closer toward her, worry furrowing his forehead. “What is wrong?” He wrapped his strong arms around her body, and the High Lady sighed deeply as she sank into the embrace. “Nothing, I…” The first roaring thunder let her pause for a moment. “Az and YN haven’t returned yet.” Violet eyes gazed out of the window, brows slightly furrowed in concentration as he tried to make out the shapes in the gloomy light of the early evening.

Then, a smile spread across his handsome face, and Feyre turned to see what had happened. “They are now. Come, my love,” the High Lord coaxed his mate toward the door to meet the pair down the hall to greet them. She followed him without hesitation, needing to see for herself that both her friends returned without harm, and had to know if they enjoyed their afternoon, needing all the raunchy details YN would spill over a glass of faery wine and a warm fire.

They only made it atop the stairwell leading down into the hall that housed the balcony primarily used to enter the House of Wind, and the pair watched a dripping YN pulling a not-less-dripping Azriel inside, a laugh dancing on her lips.

The Illyrian shook the rain off his shoulders and wings, eyes entirely focused on the brightly smiling High Fae before him. Without a thought, he let the basket drop to the floor, not sparing a single second for its whereabouts after because his entire being narrowed down to the bond beating in his chest, demanding intimacy, closeness, with the female he desired and loved more than life itself. A shriek escaped YN between laughter as Az playfully pounced on her, wrapping her in his strong arms and lifting her off the ground in one smooth motion, moaning deep in his throat at the first taste of her lips drenched in rain droplets.

As he carried her down the hall toward their shared bedchambers in long, purposeful strides, flower crown still proudly atop his head, YN laughed: “Az, the basket!” The pair above the stairs could only hear him say, “It can wait until I’m drunk and delirious on you,” before a door closed, and Feyre finally allowed the giggle to escape her she had held onto for so long.

Rhys shook his head with a humored grin, pulling the female next to him closer to his chest. “My spymaster wearing a flower crown? I won’t ever let him forget it,” he chuckled deeply, amusement and happiness dancing across his face, especially as Feyre hit his chest in warning. “Don’t you dare tease him about it!” The male grinned at that, pulling her face toward him, and pressed a lingering kiss to her lips. “I can’t make such promises, Feyre darling unless you are interested in a little deal with your beloved mate.”

Now, it was her turn to let a laugh freely echo through the halls.

Thank you everyone for reading! As usual: I'd love to read your thoughts and comments, perhaps you have an idea for a future Azriel - or any ACOTAR character - fanfiction you'd want me to write. Also, likes and reblogs are very much appreciated! <3

[l0lita-luv]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ “Polar Opposites!!”

Fluff+Smut!!

Summary-Some fluffy hcs about you and Vi, along with other arcane characters. And some sweet sex at the end.

Warnings-Use of y/n, reader is described as hyper!fem, Powder still exists, Caitlyn is a friend, Vander, Mylo, & Claggor are still alive, Switch!Vi, Mostly Sub!reader, Fingering R!receiving, Oral R!receiving, pet names: Angel, baby, sweet sex :)

a/n- Wrote this before act lll came out so…

men dni!!

Sfw!!

Vi has always loved the way you dressed. Your frilly dresses and skirts, not to mention your adorable little shirts. When she first saw you, she just knew she had to have you!

When the two of you met, she was wandering the streets of Piltover going to visit Caitlyn. But when she saw you struggling to carry your groceries, she sprinted to help you

“Hey! Uhm-let me help you with that!” Vi said nervously, “Oh thank you so much!” You beamed at Vi’s kindness. She almost melted when she saw your adorable smile.

“You ok?” You asked snapping Vi out of her trance, “Oh yeah! Uh no problem!” Vi stumbled helping you carry your groceries to your car.

“Could I maybe get your number?” You both asked in unison.

Everyone who knows her is so sick of hearing about you, specifically Powder

“Did you see what she wore today? It looked great on her right?” Vi said rambling to Powder once again, “Mhm…she looked great Vi.” Powder said her voice dripping in annoyance. Sighing as Vi opened her mouth once again.

But when everyone meets you they understand why Vi is so utterly in love

When Powder sees you she’s just so stunned by your clothes, hair and everything about you!

She’s tries to contain herself from stealing the bow in your hair

When Claggor and Mylo meet you, their very akward

Stumbling over their words, and saying things most would find offensive!

Vi was obviously staring them down the whole time

When you first met Caitlyn, you were a bit scared of her…why? Well because of the amount of stories Vi has told her about you, you were afraid you would make a horrible first impression

But when Caitlyn greeted you with a warm smile and a hug, you knew everything was fine.

Overall, everyone loves you

She also likes how your style and hers clash

Def calls you angel, doll, and love

She tries to act tough whenever the two of you are out but behind closed doors, she’s such a sap

Buys you whatever you want!

“Baby…can I get this?” You ask holding up a pair of heels. “Of course you can! They would look great on you.” Vi responds looking at the price tag nervously.

But it was worth it! Because let’s just say you payed her back…

Nsfw!!

Absolutely loves when you wear skirts and dresses

Lowkey gets annoyed when you try to take it off

“Babe-“ Vi tries to speak between kisses, tugging your skirt up. “Keep it on!” Vi manages to get out.

You love when Vi gets like this, you pay her no mind continuing to grind on her lap making her groan as you took your shirt off.

You were so focused on teasing her you didn’t even notice when she took of your panties, until she slipped in a finger only to pull out and rub your clit sweetly. “Vi!” You squeak, “Please…”

She only smiles at you, flipping the two of you over so that you can be under her. Quickly taking off her shirt.

“What do you want Angel?” Vi asks taking one of your nipples between her fingertips pinching them, making you whine. “Y-your mouth…” You whisper loud enough for her to hear.

Vi chuckles softly at your desperation, leaning forward to kiss you making her way down to your throbbing cunt. Almost immediately getting to work, she was eating you like you were her last meal. “Oh!” You yelp, reaching for Vi’s hair tugging her head closer. If even possible, she starts moving her tongue even faster making your moans louder.

You practically start screaming when she enters a finger pumping it in and out gently, looking up at you. “Think you can take another Angel?” Vi asks sweetly her face still buried in your cunt. “Yes!” You whimper your legs beginning to twitch. Vi gently slipping in another finger, her pace being generous.

“Vi…” You whisper, “Hm?” “Kiss me…” You whine. Vi comes back up, her fingers still moving. Leaning down to kiss you passionately, “I love you Angel.” Vi says, reaching for your hand, holding it. Your grip became tighter as you came undone, moaning into her mouth. “I love you too baby.” You respond back, catching your breath.

[chlorinecake]

Rabbit Hole | S.JY

▹ PAIRING: ex fling ! classmate ! jake x f. reader

▹ GENRE: smut, scandalous, college au

▹ SYNOPSIS: In an attempt to escape your past life by running off to a new university, you end up encountering a former lover—one that you never thought you’d see again, and one that you’d soon realize was bad news all along…

▹ WARNINGS: KINKTOBER SPECIAL, foul language, humiliation kink, kinda dubcon because I need therapy, mentions of anal play, ft. other idols, mild bullying, switch!jake x switch!reader, lots of dialogue, degrading kink, impact play, light bondage, oral sex (m. r), unprotected sex (not for you), hair pulling

▹ WORD COUNT: 5.9k — DAY 7

Monday

Today, your current university was hosting its annual day of orientation for newcomers and recently transferred students.

You found yourself here after being promptly expelled from your previous university, a victim of being framed after someone planted hard drugs in your gym bag—an incident that still leaves you unsure regarding who set you up in the first place…

Fortunately, however, the transition to this new college was seemingly smooth, as many of your closest friends were also attending this institution, speaking in your honor and defense to the enrollment officials countless times.

And so, as a freshly admitted student at a prestigious college located more than 100 miles from your former campus, you were eager to leave your old life and watch it burn behind you.

Though, as your cousin would often quote from one of those shitty Max Payne games he played all the time, You can't run from your past. You will end up running in circles until you fall back down into the same hole you were trying to escape from, only the hole's grown deeper.

Orientation had just ended about forty minutes ago, and like several other students, you decided to treat yourself to a nice coffee at the campus café.

However, you never anticipated running into someone you met along that gruesome 100-mile journey—someone with whom you shared a fleeting romance that you never thought you’d see again.

A fling, you might add, that you met during one of the darkest times of your life.

It was a reckless and foolish decision on your part, honestly… after all, being drunk and horny simultaneously was a combination that rarely ended well—

“I offered to pay you for sex and you said you’d do it for free!” The man shouted back at you with his frustrated brown eyes flickering behind his glasses.

And by now, everyone in the cafeteria was staring at you two—

“No the fuck I didn’t, I don’t even recognize your lying little face!” You clapped back, standing up from your table now as you angrily started shoving all your belongings back into your backpack.

A couple of pencils awkwardly clattered to the floor, but you didn’t bother to retrieve them. They were from Amazon and made your notes from orientation look terrible anyways… cheap fucking ink—

“You were a kinky bitch, too… wanted me to call you mommy while I fingered your asshole in doggystyle and everything.”

“Oh, your pervy little imagination is really running wild today, isn’t it?”

“You keep saying calling me ‘little’ when you could rarely even take me without being prepped!”

“I’m calling you ‘little’ because I don’t even know your fucking name for crying out loud!”

“It’s Jake, and you know that already, so quit playing dumb… you also told me your name when we hooked up in August, but it was probably a fake one since you thought I’d be stupid enough to not remember your face…”

Zipping your last backpack compartment, you sighed at his words, “I’m sorry to hear you’ve mistaken me with someone else, Mr. Jake, but you have to stop with these false claims… I’m not the girl you slept with…”

“Seriously?” he scoffed, shaking his head at you in disappointment as his gaze roamed over your entire frame… “You’re even wearing the same bra…”

His voice trailed off, and you stared at him with wide eyes as if he had just plunged a rusty knife into your miserable gut.

He was right. He was honest… and there was no escaping him now that he had figured you all out.

“I’ll see you in class this week,“ he sighed sullenly before walking off, looking back at you once before fully exiting the shop.

You made a mental note to never let him humiliate you again… even if you couldn’t physically prevent it, you planned to avoid it at all costs…

Tuesday

“He said all of that in public?” Your friend Ningning asked.

“Yes, and in the middle of me ordering my coffee, too…”

“He’s so disrespectful,” Minji added.

“Despicable… he was even shouting it all at the top of his fucking lungs…”

“No one kicked his crazy ass out?”

“No… and I guess that’s a good thing because we both looked fucking insane in that moment…”

“You still haven’t told us why he said all of that to you though,” Juria went on.

“I figured it was probably posted all over the internet by now…”

And you retelling them would only make you relive the incident all over again…

“Well let’s hope not, because a video like that could really ruin your academic standing… even his…”

“I seriously can’t risk that happening again, you guys… there’d be enough proof for them to accuse me this time, too… probably speculating that I was higher than a cloud in that café…”

“Noooo, let’s not even think like that, okay baby?” Juria soothed you with a comforting hand to your back.

“She’s right, everything’s gonna be alright… this’ll just blow over like every other video online,” Minji added with a smile.

“Oh my God…” your friend Ningning exclaimed while looking at her phone.

“What? What is it?”

“You said his name is Jake, right? I just found his Instagram, and his bio has our uni’s initials in it.”

“Yea, I forgot to tell you that part, too… I’ll apparently be seeing him again in English class on Thursday… and every week after that…”

“You need to look into getting transferred to a course with a different professor ASAP,” Minji suggested.

“She can’t. Deadlines already closed for class registration,” Juria added with a pout that mirrored yours.

Though at this point, Ningning was the only one smiling.

“What now, Ning?”

“I mean… y’all are just gonna have to hear me out on this one, but why’s he highkey hella attractive?”

“Give me that,” Minji said while snatching the phone from her, only for her mouth to create an O shape at one of his pictures.

“Relax Ji, you can’t slurp his soul through the screen,” you joked, which only egged them in even further.

“You should give him a second chanceeee,” Minji continued.

“After you just agreed that he’s a disrespectful little cunt?” Juria asked sarcastically.

“Look, I’m just tired of us being the single and hot friend group. It’s not a good match.”

“Mhm… we need a beau to chauffeur us around… buy us designer bags and take us to dinner…” Ningning added.

“Yessss. I’m tired of hookup culture, I need somebody reliable… you should ask him if he has any other hot friends!”

“Ooo, or a brother!”

“You guys are insane,” you chuckle, sitting back in your chair now as you know you only have a few more minutes before class starts.

You didn’t wanna tell your friends what really happened because you didn’t want them to judge you. And although you had a good feeling they wouldn’t, you were still too ashamed to confess… to admit that you had lied to the poor guy, and needlessly to as he wasn’t even trying to get anything from you.

He probably only stopped by to say “Hi” to a familiar face, but you panicked when the truth started to come out…

Wednesday

You were so close to calling in sick and just skipping class for the whole day, simply to avoid bumping into Jake.

But you knew that was a cowardly idea that would only negatively affect your attendance in the long run.

So, after some careful consideration, you came up with your own solution; you planned to wear the most provocative outfit you could find, just to get revenge by teasing him all day.

You wanted him to experience the embarrassment he had put you through when he exposed you in the café… you craved the feeling of being in control of him again.

Though, you knew it wouldn’t be easy because part of you still had a soft spot for him…

He was so caring on all those nights, prioritizing your pleasure while still achieving his own… and then right after, he would ask you about your life, to which you foolishly responded with complete honesty every single time…

You told him about what happened at your old school, about how you were transferring to a new institution, and even details about your family life…

So, when you unexpectedly ran into him on campus that Tuesday, it wasn’t entirely shocking… he had even followed you on Instagram that same day, tagging you and other students under a post entailing his excitement about “finally starting his academic journey on the right track.”

Jake was clearly keeping tabs on you, and you couldn’t fathom what he could possibly want, but you knew it had to be something, and you weren’t gonna sulk over his nice guy act any longer.

Sure, you recall him mentioning his plans to pursue personal projects, but those ambitions have to include you in some way, otherwise, why the fuck would he even be here?

The past version of you would allow such uncertainties to intimidate her, but the new you was ready to stand firm. You had to; it was the only way to change the dynamics of your relationship with him.

Thursday

Straightaway upon reaching the classroom after running up and down the halls for what felt like a second lifetime, you finally made it in.

It didn’t take long for you to spot Jake either, as he was sitting in one of the closest seats he could probably grab.

Nerd, you thought to yourself, making your way towards him with your lace-up Mary Jane heels clicking behind you.

The desks were two-seaters in this class, so you’re lucky enough to have snatched a spot with Jake before some other whore did—

“So you’re not disgusted by my lying little face anymore?” He asked almost immediately after you got settled in the chair, slowly meeting your eyes as if to shame you. Intimidate you.

“Oh I definitely still am,” you corrected, crossing your legs beneath the desk, “I’m simply just sitting next to you…”

“Right… and are you still going by that fake name these days?… What was it again… Raychel with a Y?”

“My real name is ____, alright? Not like you didn’t know that already after stalking me down online—”

He let out a breath through his nose, “I didn’t stalk you, ____—”

“Don’t call me that,” you interrupted, making him look down at his desk for a moment before snickering to himself at your tone.

Your adorably stern voice…

He always found it cute whenever you tried acting like the one who held dominance out of the two of you—

“What shall I call you then?” He asked while smirking, and you resented the way it made your insides flutter.

“Pretty,” you said plainly, and he quirks a brow at you.

“P-pretty?”

“What, do you disagree with that?”

“No,” he clarified, eyes shamelessly checking out your outfit now, “not at all…”

You were wearing a tight white button-up that exposed all your cleavage with a high-pleated skirt and heels.

And if anyone looking didn’t know any better, they’d probably think you were either trying to seduce the professor or get away with wearing borderline lingerie in public—

“There has to be a reason you approached me on orientation,” you began again, reaching in your backpack to pull out your notebooks and stationary, “why?”

“Well,” he started while clearing his throat slightly, “you can’t blame me for wanting to reconnect with an old lover, right?”

“Friend, Jake… we were just friends…”

“Okay, okay, whatever you wanna call it, but,” he whispered, leaning closer to you now as he spoke right below your ear, “wasn’t the sex just amazing… Pretty?”

You angrily swatted his hand from your thigh, to which he snickered at you.

Again.

“Listen, I’m an entirely different woman from the broken one you met two months ago… what we had was nothing,” you whisper-yelled, eyes filled with frustration.

“It certainly doesn’t seem like it was nothing,” Jake said, but his expression had lost its luster as his resting face became blank, and you’re just now realizing that your hand was gripped around his neck tie.

Click click.

The sound of the classrooms front door sounded, craning open with a loud creak to reveal the long-awaited English professor, the bustling classroom gracing her with their full attention.

“Good morning, my bright and wonderful students,” the heavy-set woman announced with glee as she walked up to the chalkboard, “anybody miss me?… No? Just my puppies at home? Okay, let’s get started then… You youngsters can call me Ms. Thompson, by the way!”

God—you sighed within yourself at her attempt to be likable despite her egregious sense of humor—Thursdays were going to be a lot longer than you anticipated…

“Uhm, Britney Spears, why don’t you come up to the board for me real quick,” the teacher said about thirty minutes into the session, and you were so lost in your head, you hadn’t even realized.

“It’s ____, ma’am,” you corrected her, not wanting to have a permanent nickname on the first day of college.

“Could’ve fooled me… anyhow, let’s make our topic of arguments a little more personal now… is there anyone in this room who you’d like to envision as your target offender?”

A smile creeped upon your face at this opportunity, “Yes, actually.”

Your eyes went straight to Jake, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know exactly who you were looking at, especially with the way his face looked now.

“Great! Come on up, Misterrrr…”

“Sim,” he said shyly, standing right beside you at the front of the class.

“Now, state your stance on the following argument, Ms. ____. Today’s topic issss,” her voice trailed off as she fished through her pile of notecards, “The Relevance of the Past in Shaping Identity!”

The classroom air grew thick with anticipation, as mostly everyone in the class had seen they way you two were acting earlier, and the café video that went viral earlier that week.

Though, given your outfit, you were already in the mood for attention today, so this was the perfect topic choice for you to spark a heated debate.

“I just think the past should be left in the past. We shouldn’t let it define who we are today.”

“Could you be more descriptive?” Ms. Thompson urged.

“Well… my view is that we shouldn’t associate any sort of relevance to our past selves and experiences, as we only limit what our future selves can achieve,” you clarified, trying your best to sound confident.

The professor nodded at your words, and you nearly giggled at the look on Jake’s face now.

“Any students in favor of ____’s stance?”

You noticed a little less than half of the classroom raised their hand, with one student in particular extending her hand above everyone elses.

“Yes, Ms. Castillo?”

“I agree with ____’s stance as I believe that humans should treat their lives as the butterfly by means of metamorphosis, where we reflect on our past, reject it, and eventually transform into something more beautiful.”

“This is especially true for victims or survivors, as they might view their past as a hinderance to their growth and finding new identity,” another boy added.

Crossing your arms, you watched as Jake cleared his throat like he always did, right before saying the most annoying shit imaginable.

“You see, that’s where you’re wrong, class. The past is crucial to our character development. You can’t just pretend you’re from a different walk of life or… I don’t know, change your hair a little bit and call it an identity swap…”

A murmur of agreement and disagreement rippled through the class up until a voice from the back spoke up.

It was Alex, a student known for their liberal insights. “Um… sorry to interrupt you Jake, that’s offensive to queer and transitioning people. Please use more inclusive language.”

A few students behind Alex snorted at their words, but Jake’s face flushed with realization, and he nodded respectfully.

“You’re 100% right, Alex. I didn’t mean to offend anyone. I just think that our experiences are relevant in shaping who we are, and that no amount of ‘make-believe’ can erase the impact of the past on both our present and future lives…”

Jake is handling this much better than you thought he would’ve, even though he was picking at his nail bed like a madman.

Ms. Thompson is quick to sense the growing tension though, and steps in before the debate lasts the entire class duration.

“Alright, everyone. Let’s remember that we’re here to learn and respect each other’s opinions. ____ and Jake, you both have valid points. The past can be both a burden and a guide, however, it’s ultimately up to each individual to decide how they let it influence their present and future.”

The class fell silent, reflecting on the professor’s words while scribbling copious notes down in their notebooks.

You flashed Jake a glance, one that he couldn’t read at first, but it still made him feel uneasy.

“So uhhh… that’s how you have an opinionated argument, everyone!” The teacher chirped awkwardly, “you may return to your seats, Mr. Sim and Ms. ____… thank you to everyone who participated in this portion… now, as we turn to page 13, we find that…”

Friday

At the end of class yesterday, Ms. Thompson assigned you and Jake to produce a group PowerPoint presentation by the following week, and you weren’t dreading it as much as you could have.

Your little tough and mean girl act seemed to have successfully scared Jake into some submission towards you… plus, you were having way too much fun teasing him everyday to turn down an opportunity to hang with him one on one.

You both were currently sitting in the campus’s private library to do research on your topic. It was relatively late in the day, so no one was there except you two.

By now, you had already punked Jake into bringing you coffee from the café that was literally a 20 minute walk away, and into agreeing that he’d produce most of the project on his own, but your fun with him hadn’t ended just yet.

Sad as it sounds, he just looked too cute while reading to himself in the grand brown chair across from you… you wouldn’t dare leave him there to study in peace, not while you were in the mood for chaos.

“Jakeyyy~” your voice sang with a cloyingly sweet melody, making his face flush with embarrassment behind his thick-framed glasses at the nickname.

Closing the book he was reading, Jake walked over to where you sat with your foot extended before him, a messy cluster of shoe strings dangling at your ankles.

“A little help here?” You continued, subtly squishing your breasts together with your arms while looking into his eyes.

“Sure,” is all he says as a small smile overtakes his feature. Kneeling down obediently before you, he took your ankle into his grasp, getting to work at re-tying the shoelace for you.

“Thanks,” you say, leaning forward to ruffle his hair as he taps your other foot, signaling for you to lift it so he can re-tie the lace there it as well.

“I didn’t just call you over here to tie my shoes though, Jake,” you whisper, drawing his gaze from your shoes and up to your eyes.

He holds back a sigh, and his chest expands because of it, “What else is it that you want then, ____—“

“Pretty,” you corrected him, moving your foot from his grasp only to let your leg fall, gently pressing the weight of your foot into his bulge, “we talked about this yesterday, Jake… you will never address me by my first name, understood?… Or is that too much to ask?”

Jake felt his whole stomach tense up at the feeling of your foot pressing into his groin, and he tried his best to get a solid answer out, knowing that prolonged silence would only bother you further.

“N-no,” he breathes out shakily, barely meeting your gaze now as the temperature in his face became hotter and hotter, with a mix of his own arousal, embarrassment, and anger, “I u-understand, Pretty…”

You let yourself smile at his compliance, releasing the pressure from your foot in his lap.

“So pathetic,” you announced, watching as he caught his breath on the ground, “I can get you to do anything for me, can’t I Jake?…”

He’s silent for a moment, making you feel impatient now that he was resisting all of a sudden.

“Jakey, I asked you a question—”

“And you really shouldn’t talk to me like that unless you want some sense fucked into you,” he retorted, making your eyes widen with genuine shock at his sudden boldness.

“Excuse me?” You asked with a scoff, but your voice gets lost in the sound of him getting up from the floor, standing over you, caging you beneath his frame in a way that intimidates you.

Jake had been swallowing his pride with you for long enough, and wasn’t gonna let another day pass without putting you in your place.

“I’ve been getting real sick of you treating me like this, y’know that ____?”

But before you can even think to answer, he’s reaching for the cup of coffee he fetched for you earlier and bringing it to your mouth, a ring of condensation glistening on the desk.

Trying to maintain your dominance, you let out a feigned laugh of amusement that Jake is quick to cut off with his stern words.

“Jake, what is this, huh?” You asked, giving him a fed up look even though your heartbeat was beating faster than the speed of light below his dark gaze.

“Drink it, ____….” He orders with a deep voice, eyes becoming so dark now that you can’t even bring yourself to refuse.

And you’re impossibly annoyed, too… by the way he’s very intentionally using your real name while simultaneously making you feel as feeble as a fairy.

Hesitantly bringing the cup to your mouth, it doesn’t take long before Jake smacks the coffee out of your hand, leaving the cold liquid to spill all over you.

“Jake, what the fuck?!” You shouted, shivering as the caramel-colored liquid trickled into all the intimate crevices of your body.

“How embarrassing,” he said, shaking his head, “making such a mess of yourself in front of me…”

Balling your fists, you look him dead in the eyes as you shout, “That was all you’re doing, you stupid fucking clutz- JAKE, s-stop that!” Your voice cracked at the feeling of his hand smacking you across the face now, surely leaving a cut in your lip as he soon went to squish your lips together into an odd shape, maintaining a painful grip.

“If only your brain was as big as your tits,” he clicked his teeth, wearing a somewhat neutral facial expression at first until a smirk started tugging at the corner of his lips…

“And now you’re crying?” He scoffs, almost as if both annoyed and amused by the moisture forming at the beds of your eyes.

During all this though, your mind was in a complete haze, not being able to wrap your head around how innocent he still looked while talking to you like this…

Hell, even his cheeks were still blushing, and you could tell he was getting harder behind his pants.

Jake caught onto your staring though, swallowing the urge to just fuck you right then and there.

“Take off your top,” he demanded, releasing your face from his grip and taking a few steps back, “I can’t believe you even want to be called ‘pretty’ while wearing such a filthy thing…”

“Who cares? You still got hard just from looking at me,” you jabbed back through a wobbly voice given your tears.

That’s when a feeling of chills ran up and down your skin, and it’s hard to keep up the tough girl act once Jake started unbuckling the belt he wore, keeping an intense eye contact with you the entire time.

“Just like old times,” he said, making your organs irk at how easily you found yourself falling down the same rabbit hole with him, but things were far too gone to turn back now. You complied with his words, sliding your top over your head and exposing yourself now, the swell of your breasts looking so delightful while cupped in the lace of your bra.

“You’re making this too easy for me,” he grinned, tossing his belt to the floor with a clink before closing the space between you both, still standing up as he slides his fingers against your scalp, gently gripping the hair.

But it feels so good that you almost purr at the contact, even though his behavior was a bit unsettling to you.

That’s when he landed another smack to your face, snickering at how loud you winced given the sudden shock of sensations.

“God, what the hell is wrong with you?” You yell at him, trying to escape his daunting frame but you have no chance against his strength, especially not while sitting down in a chair… “You’re a freak, Jake!”

You kept wrestling beneath him, provoking him to yank your arm harshly and pull you out of the chair and onto the floor, your bare knees hitting the floor with a thud.

“And you’re a little bitch,” he bit back, handling your body with ease as he situates you before him on your knees, taking your spot in the chair and spreading his legs.

And his belt isn’t too far from him now either, compelling him to reach down for it and use it to secure one of your wrists to the chair before finally shimmying his pants down.

So lost in your thoughts, you watch with a mix of fear, disgust, and anticipation at the erectness hiding behind his boxers, just as his taunting voice resounds again.

“C’mon, ____… it’s about time you make good use of that big mouth of yours…”

With teary eyes, you watch as his full length slips out, smacking against his abdomen as the burning in your restrained wrist feels worse now.

Everything feels worse now… you had never felt so humiliated in your entire life.

He tapped the tip of his cock against your lips, using a thumb at your jaw to pry your mouth open and push himself in.

And as much as you didn’t wanna admit it, you were enjoying this a lot more than expected…

You had always preferred men who were more on the submissive side, and Jake, being a nerdy introvert, was no exception to that craving.

However, you didn’t mind him getting a little rough with you either, and perhaps that’s why you felt ashamed for it… you felt vulnerable with the idea of admitting you liked being someone else’s play thing…

“Stroke me like you used to, ____… ‘atta girl,” he groaned, watching with pleasure as you let your free hand find his shaft, stroking the bass as he kept your mouth secured around the tip.

And as embarrassing as it sounds, you felt yourself getting wet just from sucking him off, the sounds of your own throat gurgling around his length being a turn on for the both of you.

“I bet you still haven’t even told your friends about what really happened between me and you, huh? Imagine if they knew your lips liked sucking my cock just as much as they liked lying…” he slithered, keeping your head angled back just enough for him to get a full look at your face while you took him in your mouth.

Jake soon catches onto the way you’re closing your thighs together as tears continue to well in your eyes, and he lets himself snicker at how needy and pathetic you looked before him...

“What is it, Pretty? Hm? Don’t want your friends to find out about how much of a raging cock-slut you are?”

You moaned softly as he gently pulled your head from around him, and a string of your own saliva and his precum keeps you two connected as he finally loosens the belt around your wrist.

“When’d you get so mean, Jake?” You asked weakly, voice a bit raspy now after taking him in your mouth.

He almost couldn’t look you straight in the eye after asking that, but he had to keep his act going… he had to put you in your place—

“I only get this way when I have to,” he practically whispered, and part of you couldn’t even get annoyed with him for it.

You felt the same just a few moments ago, and you’re just now realizing how much you and Jake really have in common—

“Get up,” he ordered, and you listened, standing on shaky legs as he pulled your panties down, letting them rest at your ankles as he stood up to meet you.

Without speaking, he simply pointed at the chair he was just sitting in, and you’re given the opportunity to choose the position.

You decide to get back on your knees, bend over the chair, and stick your bare ass out for him, and he snickered at the sight, kneeling down himself now.

He ran a hand over the curve of your hip before landing a hard smack there, his own cock twitching every time you winced.

After this, he wastes no time in gliding his cock between your folds, right before plunging his tip into your sloppy cunt and groaning at the feeling.

“Fuck~,” he cursed under his breath, trying to adjust himself inside you, “has it really been so long that even your pussy’s gotten tighter?”

“Well your tiny cock definitely didn’t get any bigger- nghh~…,” you whined through a bitten lip, trying to suppress your moaning as he started to bottom out, over and over again.

“And here I was thinking you’d actually shut up for once,” he sighed, but his voice was clearly being affected by the way you felt around him.

He had been missing this… all of it, and not even just the sex. Jake wanted more to come out of your relationship with him, but if this is how you wanted to play, so be it—he still got something good out of it.

You can’t remember what you were going to say, but your thoughts were harshly cut by the feeling of his hand pulling you up by your throat and holding you close to his body.

“Let’s see… do you still squirm while having your tits touched? Do you still squirt just from the sound of my voice?” He whispered, and your breath was so restricted that all you could do was pant pathetically.

His released his grip pretty quickly though, only for his hands to find your breasts and fondle with them as he picked up the pace of his thrusts.

“J-Jake,” your voice bobbled, given the strong impact of his hips behind you, “d-don’t you fucking dare…”

“What do you mean, Pretty?” He asked, snickering now at the way your thighs trembled briefly, “you’re a flashy little bitch, but that doesn’t mean I can read your mind…”

You groaned at his words, feeling lightheaded now that his tip was brushing up against your cervix.

“Don’t… fuckkk~… don’t tell anyone about this…”

“Which part of this, hm?” He asked knowingly, “the part where I made you cry or the part where I finish inside you?”

“N-not any of it, just- please…” your words slurred, and your heart started to ache just as much as your core with a mix of worry and desperation.

Of course, you were enjoying every part of this, but you didn’t wanna face the embarrassment that’d come with it if anyone found out…

Just imagine it… how down bad must you be to (1) let a guy hit it after treating you like shit, and (2) in the middle of the campus library of all places?

He’s slamming into you so hard and fast that you lost track of your thoughts again, and the squelching sounds coming from the two of you only adds to the warmth growing in your faces—

“That’s really what you want? Huh?” Jake asked with a low growl to his voice, and all you can reply with is a string of whiny yes’s.

“Beg for it louder,” he demanded, “beg for me to keep fucking you like a good little slut…”

And you did, letting your hips bounce to a rythme with his thrusts as your high drew closer and closer to approaching.

“P-please, Jake! I’ll do anything! I’ll be a g-good cock-slut just for you if that’s what you want… I-I’ll even let you cum in me,” you stammered, only for your pleading lips to trail off as a symphony of moans ripped through your body, his harsh hand smacking your ass one more before holding you in place by a handful of your hair.

“Yea, Pretty? Want me to fill your juicy pussy up with my cum? Gonna let me fuck it back into you nice and slow? Yea?” He rambled breathlessly, panting in place of groaning so he could get his words out better.

Crying out another yes, Jake’s hip plummeted into you as hard as they could, your breasts rocking back and forth with the force until you finally felt it; your walls pulling him in as his first spurt made you shiver, and then his second spurt made you climax.

“Awww, fuck!” You whimpered, shaking beneath him as he rode out his high inside you.

It didn’t take long for him to stand up, though, and just in time to pull up his pants and readjust your panties before the library doors creaked open as a new soul joined the space.

It was a girl. You could tell me the gentle hums that bumped from her throat, echoing off of the shelves of books.

“____! Minji said I might find you studying here, so I came to check since you’ve been hiding from us… And don’t even think about scolding me for yelling in here!” The voice called out, and you immediately knew it was Juria from her accent.

She had just came back from class to return a few books that she borrowed earlier, and your heart never pumped as fast as it did when Jake landed a harsh smack to your clothed cunt while holding you in place, even though you tried squirming away.

Everything in you was fighting to avoid being caught like this, and even more so because Juria was literally 30ft away from you two.

When she finally made her way over, though, the poor girl nearly dropped the stack of books she was holding, delicate eyebrows furrowing behind her silky bangs as her lips asked the words, “What on earth happened over here?”

You were sitting beside a now standing Jake with your cold ass right against the tile floor as you lazily slumped over the reading chair, being too fucked out to bother moving.

Your hair was a mess atop your head and your outfit was totally disarrayed, foggy mascara smudged beneath your swollen eyes and your whole body reeking of bittersweet aromas.

Juria couldn’t put a finger on it, but she knew something had happened. Something off…

“She spilled coffee all over herself…” Jake eventually answered, an aura of emptiness being present in both his expression and tone… an eeriness that made both you and Juria tremble in the knees…

From that moment, he simply walked past you both, looking back only once before leaving… he glanced at you first before looking Juria straight in the eye, his expression only now softening as one last line escaped his venomous lips…

“Such a silly girl, isn’t she?…”

⋆♱✮ Thank you to everyone who made it to the end of this fic, which actually concludes DAY 7 of my Kinktober Event !! If you're interested in reading more works like this, feel free to check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist by clicking one of these links !!

⋆♱✮ PERMANANT TAGLIST:

@squoxle, @nishiimuranights, @ashgonedash

@yourmomscuntis2tighy, @wonbinisbabygurl

@watamotee33, @addictedtohobi, @ot7sevenlvr

⋆♱✮ KINKTOBER TAGLIST:

@pasteltheghost16 @fawnpeaks @melonvrs

@mheretoreadff @skzfelixlove @inishij

@yaorzu-blog @andromedawillburyyou @ramyeonzprincess

@zaihypen @simjaeyunns @gardenwonnies @hynier

@idontknowhowtomakeusernames @enhymeowz @minhosimthings @stormy1408

@crownj1min @jay-0n3s @gacktsa @leeknowinggg

@d-dilemma @mrsjohnnysuh

[daisyblog]

English Love Affair

Our Story Masterlist Summary: YN plays ‘English Love Affair’ to see Harry’s reaction.

based on this request.

YN scrolled through her phone, trying to find a song to play from her Spotify to put on whilst she cleaned, recording herself to upload to her TikTok later on.

“Guys does anyone else need music on whilst they clean?”. She asked the silent audience, knowing that nobody could answer her. “I just love a sing and dance as I do it”.

As YN scrolled through her never ending playlists, her eyes lit up when she saw the popular 5sos song that was popular in the directioner world. “Fook off…how could I forget this song existed!”.

“It started on a weekend in May…I was looking for attention, needed intervention…Felt somebody looking at me…With a powder white complexion, feeling the connection”.

YN began to mouth along to the words knowing Harry would appear any minute to tell her to turn it off. “I’ll give Harry ten seconds before he appears”. YN continued to dance as she placed some dishes in the dish washer.

“The way she looked was so ridiculous…Every single step had me waiting for the next…Before I knew it, it was serious…Dragged me out the bar to the back seat of her car”.

“Turn it off!”. Harry voice echoed in the distance.

YN stopped her dancing as she placed a hand up to her mouth to stop her laugh from bursting out. “What did you say? Can’t hear you!”.

“When the lights go out, she's all I ever think about…The picture burning in my brain, kissing in the rain I can't forget, my English love affair…Today, I'm seven thousand miles away…The movie playing in my head of a king size bed means I can't forget…My English love affair”.

Harry appeared in view as he stood with an unamused look. His arms folded across his chest, the muscles of his biceps shouting out as they tensed.

YN rolled her lips inside her mouth, trying her hardest not to let out a hint of amusement as she looked at Harry’s harsh frown. But her internal battle failed her as she sang the next line.

“My English love affair”.

“Why are you listening to this song? There’s millions of other songs you could listen to…and you choose this fucking one!”. Harry voice was calm for someone who was clearly annoyed and irritated.

YN shrugged her shoulders as she gave Harry an innocent smile. “It’s a good song”.

“It’s about my sister…yah know…and yeah”. Harry tumbled over his words, not wanting to say what the song was about out loud. “Imagine having to listen to a song like that about your siblings”.

YN knew what Harry was trying to do, but she was one step ahead of him when it came to arguing the point. “Yeah…at least you know how Louis felt listening to Watermelon Sugar!”.

Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times trying to find a way to defend himself, but his lack of words failed him.

Wanting to push his reaction further, YN continued to sing along. “Gemma’s a queen for this one!”.

“YN!”.

Tag List:

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats@harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r  @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour@bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl@buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream@treehouse-mouse @mrs-anna-styles211994 @macy-tpwk @mrs-anna-styles211994

[zebuie]

⭑.ᐟ after class . ݁ ₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

read this ₊⊹ daily click # mlist

♱ pairings; professor!ellie x student!reader

₊˚⊹ ㅤsynopsis; Class was now the brightest spot in your day, thanks to your Professor's praise and smiles. You were falling for her fast. Lectures were once dreaded but now awaited, all because of her. if only to be around her more…

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ wc / cw ; 8.2k || smuttt!!!! , age gap , swearing , angst? , situation ship idk , kissing , r touches herself to the thought of e , eating out ( e & r receiving ) , strap on usage ( r receiving) , breast sucking ( e receiving ) , I thinkkk that’s all????

✶ a/n; hihiiii another professor ellie fic bc u guys lav ittt and i do too❤️ happy fall !!

You walked into your first class of the new semester, dreading the next few hours of lecturing and notes. The room was almost empty, with only a handful of other students sitting about, all probably feeling the same as you were. Upon checking the roster, you saw a name that would be the source of your next few months of pain.

As the last students trickled in, there was a loud click from the door, signaling the class was about to start. Everyone looked up, watching as the Professor placed her books on the desk and turned to look at the class. She was a tall, attractive woman, her hair cut just above her shoulders. Her voice echoed through the room as she finally spoke.

"Hello class, name is Professor Williams."

She paused, looking out across the room at her students. She then pulled out a small paper, glancing down at it and back up at the students. She pulled her glasses out of her pocket and slipped them on as she spoke again.

"I'll be your Literature professor, and I hope this won't be a waste of my time or yours..."

She folded the paper up and stuck it back in her pocket, before walking over to her desk and resting her hands along the edges of the surface, looking back out across the room full of students.

"I hope the lot of you will be paying attention this semester, as I don't have much tolerance for slacking. If you feel yourself falling behind, make sure to come speak to me during my office hours. Understood?"

You couldn't help but steal a glance at your Professor as she spoke. She was a lot more attractive than you had first assumed. This was definitely going to be a long semester for you as a student.

As the Professor continued talking, you were only half-listening in class, paying more attention to the way she stood than to what she was actually saying. You took in the way she looked and her figure, finding yourself already attracted to her.

She continued to walk back and forth across the room as she lectured. You couldn't help but think about the way her hips moved as she walked, or the way that her glasses hung on the edge of her nose. She wasn't old or anything, though she was definitely older than you.

She was in the middle of her lecture when she noticed you zoning out. She paused for a second, before walking over and standing directly in front of your desk.

"you, is there a reason you seem distracted today? Do I not have your attention?"

Her tone was firm, leaving little room for excuses or slacking off. From up close though, you could see a few more details of her face, including the way her green eyes shone under her glasses.

You sat up in your seat, now under the gaze of your Professor. You mumbled out a quick apology, before giving a very half-hearted excuse about not having much sleep.

 She eyed you suspiciously, not seeming fully convinced by your excuse. Her eyes studied you for a moment, before she finally spoke up again.

"You better make sure you're paying attention for the rest of class. Got that?"

She stared down at you for a moment longer, before turning on her heel and walking back to the front of the room. You could feel your heart beating a little faster after having been directly in front of your Professor

The class continued for the next hour or so, before the Professor closed a book on her desk and spoke up, signaling the end of class.

"Class is dismissed for today."

The students packed up their things and began to file out of the classroom. You began packing up your own things, when you heard a voice from behind you.

"Hold on a moment."

The voice was quiet, but firm. You turned around, to see her, the Professor sitting at her desk, sorting papers into her file. She glanced up at you, before gesturing forward with her hand.

"Come here please, for a moment.

She waited for you to walk over, before folding her hands on the desk and looking up at you. It was a little intimidating, how she looked up and stared at you with those emerald eyes behind her glasses.

"I want to discuss your *attentiveness* during class today."

She spoke in a firm, steady tone, making it clear that she wasn't joking around. She pushed her glasses up her nose, before speaking again.

"You were out of it the whole time, what's distracting you?" She asked, suddenly you felt like your lips were sealed.

The Professor stared up at you with a firm expression, her sharp, emerald eyes studying you from behind her glasses. Her tone was blunt and straightforward, much like the rest of her demeanor.

"So I'm gonna ask again. Why were you not paying attention in class today?"

You met the Professor's gaze, the direct and firm tone of her voice making you feel a little on edge. You managed to mumbled out a quick reply, not wanting to dig yourself into a deeper hole.

"Um.. was just tired...not much sleep, yknow.."

The Professor seemed to study you closer at your response, her eyes remaining fixed on you. She let out a quiet scoff, her expression unreadable.

"That's all, is it?  Just tired?"

She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms over her chest. Her voice held doubt, her brow raised slightly.

"Is that what I should expect for the rest of the semester? You just being tired in class?"

You hastily answered, not wanting to keep her waiting.

"no miss, of course not."

she was just so fucking intimidating.

She Professor chuckled quietly, the corner of her mouth upturning in a half-smile.

"Good, I didn't think so. Because I don't have a lot of patience for slacking off in my classes."

She leaned forward again, studying your face for a moment longer. You felt a little uneasy, under her intense gaze.

"I don't expect to see you falling asleep in my lectures, ever again, understand?"

You nodded, a slight feeling of uneasiness in the pit of your stomach. Her intense stare and firm tone scared you a little to say the least.

She continued to stare at you, not speaking for a moment. Her face was still completely unreadable, her emerald eyes locked on yours.

"good. I'll be keeping my eye on you. Make sure I don't see you being distracted like that again."

She stood up from her desk, folding her arms as she stood to her full stature. She still was a bit taller than you, which wasn't a surprise, yet it still made you feel a little vulnerable under her gaze.

"Now go on, class is over."

Her firm voice broke the silence, signaling for you to go. Her expression didn't soften or change, the only sign of any emotion being her one half-raised eyebrow.

You quickly grabbed your things and slung your bag over your shoulder, giving a quick nod before hurrying out of the classroom. As you left, you spared one final glance back over your shoulder at your Professor. She was already back at her desk, flipping through papers, looking as stern as ever.

You couldn't shake the feeling that she was watching you closely now, her emerald eyes boring into your back as you hastened down the hallway.As you walked, you replayed the scene in your head. Her words echoed in your mind: "I don't expect to see you falling asleep in my lectures, ever again, understand?" The way she said it, with that commanding tone 

and unyielding gaze, made it clear she meant business. 

You had to try harder, be more focused. But why did it matter so much to her? 

The rest of the day was pretty typical as far as classes go. A few hours of class, some note-taking and lecture, boring stuff. The whole time, thoughts of your Professor were in the back of your mind. Her stern expression and firm tone didn’t seem to leave your brain, replaying over and over in your mind.

You finally reached the empty locker room, where you quickly changed out of your uniform and into casual clothes. 

As you glanced in the mirror, you caught a glimpse of a familiar figure waiting outside - your best friend, Mia. She waved at you, her bright smile a welcome respite from the tense atmosphere of the school."Hey, sleepyhead!" Mia teased, noticing your frazzled expression. "What's got you so riled up?"

"Oh, you know, just the usual stress of being a teenager," you replied with a half-hearted chuckle, trying to brush off the lingering unease. "And a stern lecture from Professor Williams to top it off."Mia raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "What did she say that was so bad?" You hesitated, not wanting to share the full extent of your interaction with your friend. But Mia's concerned expression encouraged you to open up."She caught me dozing off in class again," you admitted sheepishly.

 "She warned me not to fall asleep in her lectures again."

Mia looked at you with genuine concern, her eyes softening behind her glasses. "Hey, it's okay if you're tired sometimes. We all have off days," she said reassuringly. "But if it keeps happening, maybe we should talk to the school about getting you a tutor or something to help you stay on top of the work too."You appreciated Mia's concern, but that wasn't quite the issue at hand. 

As you pondered how to broach the subject, your mind drifted back to your earlier encounter with Professor Williams. A flutter of nervous excitement coursed through you as you recalled the way her emerald eyes had locked onto yours. 

Before you could second-guess yourself, the words tumbled out."Mia, I... I think I might have a bit of a crush on Professor Williams," you confessed, your cheeks flushing pink in the process."A crush? On your teacher?" Mia's eyes widened in surprise, her head cocking to the side. "Well, I guess that's not entirely unheard of."

────୨ৎ────

After your candid conversation with Mia, you both decided to part ways, promising to meet up later to grab some lunch. As you headed home, your mind was a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts. 

You couldn't believe you had actually admitted your attraction to your teacher, and even more astonishing was how little Mia seemed to think of it as a big deal. 

Her nonchalant attitude put you at ease, and for the first time, the idea of having feelings for Professor Williams didn't feel so taboo or wrong.The brisk walk home gave you a chance to process everything, and by the time you arrived, you had settled into a more composed state of mind. 

Entering your room, you kicked off your shoes and dropped your bag onto the floor, ready to collapse onto your bed and try to forget about the day's events.

But as you glanced around, taking in the familiar surroundings of your bedroom, you found yourself drawn back to the encounter with Professor Williams. 

The memory of her piercing gaze and commanding presence lingered, making your pulse quicken and a shiver run down your spine.You shook your head, trying to clear the distracting thoughts. You needed to focus on your schoolwork and extracurricular activities.

You pulled out your homework, focusing intently on the math problems in front of you. As you worked, your mind kept drifting back to her. 

You found yourself wondering what she was like outside of the classroom - did she have hobbies or a family? What kind of person was she when she wasn't playing the role of the strict teacher? The more you learned, the more fascinated you became. 

Your phone was nearby, and before long, you found yourself scrolling through social media, looking for any mention of your Professor. 

You came across a few old news articles featuring her, and you read with interest about her work as a leading researcher in her field. Time seemed to slip away from you as you continued to browse, and soon it was well past your bedtime. 

You glanced over at your bed, feeling suddenly very tired, but also too engrossed in what you were reading to resist finding out more.

As you continued scrolling through the articles and posts about your teacher, your mind began to wander to more intimate scenarios. 

You imagined what it would be like to be alone with her, to feel her strong hands on your body, to taste her lips. The fantasy took hold of you, and before you knew it, you were stroking yourself, your breathing growing heavier as the images in your head became more vivid and explicit.

Your fingers moved deftly, mimicking the actions you longed for her to perform on you. You pictured her leaning over you, her emerald eyes burning with desire as she explored every inch of your skin. 

The thought of her full lips on your neck sent a shiver through you, and you quickened your pace as the pleasure built inside you.Your fantasies intensified, and soon you were picturing her on top of you, her hips grinding against yours in a slow, sensual rhythm. You could almost feel the heat of her body, the softness of her curves pressed against you. 

The mental images were so real, so visceral, that it was like having the real thing, even as you maintained your solitary pleasure.Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as the tension coiled tighter within you, ready to burst.

The fantasy reached its climax, and you came with a quiet moan, your fingers still moving in the aftershocks. As the pleasure subsided, a wave of shame washed over you. What was wrong with fantasizing about your teacher? She was a real person with a life outside of the classroom. 

You felt dirty, like you had betrayed the trust between a student and teacher.You lay there in the afterglow, your mind reeling from the intensity of the fantasy and the subsequent guilt. You knew you needed to get a grip on yourself. 

I mean she was just an attractive woman, but she was still your teacher. You had to learn to see her in a more professional light, as an authority figure rather than an object of desire.

With a heavy sigh, you got up and changed into your pajamas. As you settled back into bed, you made a silent promise to yourself: you would try harder in class, stay focused, and avoid letting your mind wander to such inappropriate places again.

As you drifted off to sleep, your mind was still replaying the events of the day. Her stern gaze, her firm tone, the way her body seemed to exude an air of power and control. 

You knew you needed to push these thoughts aside, to compartmentalize your feelings for the sake of maintaining a healthy dynamic with your teacher. 

But as you slept, your subconscious continued to weave fantasies around her, spinning tales of forbidden passion and secret trysts.When you woke up the next morning, the lingering guilt from the previous day's escapades still lingered, but it was tempered by a sense of determination. 

You made yourself a quick breakfast and got ready for school, resolving to stay focused and on track throughout the day.

As you walked to class, you couldn't help but glance over your shoulder, half-expecting to see williams standing there, watching you. The thought sent a shiver down your spine, and you quickly looked away, trying to quell the butterflies in your stomach.

When you arrived in her classroom, you took your usual seat and began to unpack your things. Your eyes kept drifting back to the closed door, waiting for the moment she would sweep in with her commanding presence.

As the minutes ticked by, your anticipation grew. You found yourself checking the clock every so often, wondering where she was and when she would arrive. 

You knew she was punctual, always arriving right at the start of class, but for some reason, you were extra anxious today.Hearing the door click open, you jumped in your seat, your heart racing as she stepped into the room. 

Her eyes scanned the classroom, locking onto you for a brief moment before moving on to the rest of the students. 

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks at the intensity of her gaze, as if she could see right through to the swirling mix of emotions within you.As she began to take roll, her voice was crisp and authoritative, putting you at ease. You settled back into your usual state of focused attention, determined to make a good impression and show her you could stay on task.

But every time your gaze wandered to her, you found yourself lost in the same fantasies that had plagued you the night before. You saw her standing beside your desk, her emerald eyes burning with a different kind of intensity. You pictured her bending down to whisper in your ear, her breath hot against your skin.

You pushed through the rest of the lesson, determined to stay focused. As the class ended and your classmates began to file out, you remained seated, carefully packing away your things. You couldn't help but steal glances at her, who was tidying up her desk. When she finally looked up, her gaze met yours, and you felt that same jolt of electricity as their eyes locked.

Walking over to you, she leaned down, her voice low so as not to disturb the other students still in the room. "You seemed to be paying attention today," she said, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Keep up the good work."

You sat in silence for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts, before turning to Professor Williams with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Professor. I really appreciate it." you said sincerely, meeting her gaze for a brief moment. 

She nodded in acknowledgement, her expression softening slightly before she turned her attention back to her papers."You're welcome," she replied simply, not looking up from her work. 

You knew that was her way of showing approval without making a big fuss about it.

With a final nod, you stood up and made your way to the door, your footsteps echoing in the emptying classroom. 

As you stepped out into the bustling hallway, you felt a sense of pride and accomplishment wash over you. You had done well, and Professor Williams had noticed. The rest of the day passed in a blur of classes and conversations with friends, but the memory of her praise and the intensity of her gaze lingered in your mind, a constant reminder of your growing attraction to your strict yet caring teacher.

You met up with Mia at your favorite coffee shop, eager to share the events of the day. As you settled into your seats, sipping your hot beverages, you recounted every detail - from Professor Williams' stern warning to her praise for your focus in class. Mia listened intently, her expression shifting from concern to amusement as you described your growing attraction to the teacher."Wow, it sounds like she really has you wrapped around her finger," Mia teased.

 "But seriously, I'm proud of you for staying focused today. Maybe try to enjoy the attention from your hot teacher without letting it get too distracting, yeah?"

Mia playfully rolled her eyes. "Okay, enough about your hot teacher. Let's talk about something else that's been on your mind lately." You both spent the next hour chatting and laughing over steaming cups of coffee, discussing everything from your favorite TV shows to your plans for the upcoming weekend. 

As the afternoon wore on, you glanced the time on your phone and stood up, gathering your things. "I should probably get going," you said with a yawn. "I have some homework to finish up." Mia nodded understandingly. "Yeah, I should probably get back to studying too. See you later, sleepyhead." With a wave and a smile, you parted ways, heading home as the sun began to set.

You arrived home, dumped your bag on the floor, and settled into your desk chair. Pulling out your textbooks and notebook, you dove into your homework with a focused mindset. 

Hours slipped by as you worked through math problems and studied for your upcoming history test. 

By the time you finished, the clock read 10 pm. Feeling satisfied with a day's worth of work, you changed into your PJs and crawled into bed, the events of the day drifting through your mind as your eyelids grew heavy. 

With a contented sigh, you let yourself fall into a deep, dreamless sleep, ready to face another day of school and secret crushes.

Weeks passed, and each day, you found yourself being held back after class by wiliams. Your initial nervousness gave way to comfort and anticipation as you looked forward to these one-on-one sessions. 

She would often lean in close to point out mistakes in your notes, her breath warm against your skin. 

Her praise and corrections were always delivered in that same low, velvety tone that made your heart race.

One particular day, as you were scribbling down a summary of the lesson, she moved to stand behind you. peered over your shoulder, her body heat radiating onto your neck. You could feel her eyes on you, but when you turned to meet her gaze, she simply smiled and nodded in approval. 

The intimacy of the moment sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself stealing glances at her reflection in the classroom window as she stood there, her body silhouetted by the late afternoon sun.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of class, Professor Williams took a step closer, her voice low. "Keep up the good work," she whispered, her lips nearly brushing your ear. "I'm always here if you need help—with anything."

On this particular afternoon, as you were chatting away after class, Professor Williams brought up a topic that caught your attention. She mentioned a research project she was working on, and you found yourself asking questions, genuinely interested in her work. 

As the conversation flowed, she shared more about her personal life, revealing tidbits that humanized her in your eyes. 

You were struck by how down-to-earth and relatable she seemed, despite her authority figure status. 

And then, she dropped a bombshell that made your heart skip a beat."By the way," she said with a casual shrug, "I'm Ellie." The name felt foreign on your tongue, yet somehow intimate, as if you were being let in on a secret. 

You met her gaze, and for a moment, you just stared, trying to process the revelation that your strict, enigmatic teacher was actually named Ellie."It's nice to meet the real you, Ellie," you managed to stammer out, a flush creeping up your neck at the boldness of your words. 

She laughed, a soft, melodic sound, and nodded in agreement. "Likewise, I suppose." The tension in the air was palpable as you both stood there, the usual boundaries between teacher and student feeling suddenly blurred.

The rest of the lesson passed in a blur, your minds both elsewhere as you navigated the usual routine of taking roll and handing out assignments. 

When the bell finally rang, signaling the end of class, you lingered, reluctant to break the spell that had settled over you. 

Professor...Ellie stood by her desk, seemingly equally loathe to end the encounter."So," she said, breaking the silence, "I'll see you tomorrow." The way she said it, the implication was clear - this new dynamic between you two wasn't going to disappear. 

With a final nod, you turned and left the classroom, your steps uncharacteristically slow and heavy, your mind reeling with the revelation of your teacher's real name and the unspoken tension between you.

Over the next few days, you found yourself glancing over your shoulder more often than usual, half-expecting to catch a glimpse of Ellie in the hallway. Each time you saw her, your heart skipped a beat. 

The familiarity of her name on her lips felt strange yet intimate, like a secret shared between friends rather than teacher and student. 

You couldn't help but wonder what other aspects of her personality she might reveal, now that the mask of professionalism seemed to be slipping.Ellie held you back after class again, and you settled into your usual seat, eager to continue your conversations. 

As she spoke about her latest research findings, you listened intently, feeling a growing sense of admiration for the brilliant, multifaceted person she was. Her eyes met yours, and you felt an undeniable spark, as if the air between you was charged with an electric current.

As the days passed, you started noticing a pattern in Ellie's words. Every so often, she'd call you something endearing - "pretty", "sweetheart", even "pretty girl". Each time, her voice would drop an octave, her emerald eyes sparkling with a knowing glint. 

You felt yourself melting under her affectionate terms, your heart racing at the subtle hints of her desire. 

It was as if, little by little, Ellie was claiming you as hers, whispering sweet nothings into your ear during private conversations after class. 

You found yourself craving these moments, these stolen glances and half-whispered pet names that made you ache with a longing you couldn't quite name.

One day, as you were engaged in your usual post-class chat with Ellie, a bold idea struck you. You decided to test the waters, to see just how far you could push the boundaries of your budding connection. 

With a confident smile playing on your lips, you reached out and gently brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, your fingertips grazing her soft skin. 

Ellie's eyes widened in surprise, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned into your touch, a subtle nod of approval in her gaze. Emboldened, you let your hand linger on her cheek for a moment before pulling back, your heart pounding in your chest. 

The air between you crackled with tension as you awaited her reaction, unsure if you had overstepped or not.

Your pulse raced as Ellie's green eyes locked onto yours, a silent communication passing between you. Her lips, full and inviting, were mere inches from yours. 

The air felt electric, charged with the promise of something new, something forbidden. And then, in a move that felt both spontaneous and inevitable, Ellie closed the gap, her lips pressing against yours in a kiss that sent shockwaves through your entire being. 

The world around you faded into oblivion as you melted into her, your tongues dancing in a sensual tango. 

Time stood still as you lost yourself in the taste and feel of Ellie, your crush finally blossoming into something real, something tangible. When you finally broke apart for air, both of you were breathless, gazing at each other with a mix of wonder and desire. The game was changed, the rules rewritten in the heat of that stolen moment.

As the kiss deepened, Ellie's hands became more exploratory, roaming over your body with a sense of wonder and desire. She pulled you closer, her fingers trailing down your back to the curve of your hips, before finally placing you gently on the edge of her desk. 

You felt a thrill of excitement at the sudden shift in position, your pulse racing in time with her touch."Is this okay?" Ellie breathed against your lips, her question tinged with a hint of nervousness. You nodded, your answer lost in a moan as her hand slid up your thigh, fingertips dancing just above the hem of your skirt."Can I touch you here?" she asked next, her question specific and tantalizing. 

You nodded again, your breath hitching in your throat as her palm made contact with your inner thigh, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.

With a soft gasp, Ellie's other hand reached up to tangle in your hair, tugging gently to angle your head just right for her kisses. Her lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, before finally settling on the soft skin of your collarbone."You feel so good," she murmured against your skin, her words a mere whisper of the passion burning between you.

Ellie's touch was like a flame, burning away the last of your inhibitions as she explored every inch of you. Her fingers dipped higher, teasing the fabric of your underwear, before pausing altogether as she gazed into your eyes."What do you want, sweetheart?" she asked softly, her lips brushing against yours in a feather-light caress. 

You felt a rush of desire at the endearment, your heart pounding in time with the racing of your pulse. You took a chance, your hand reaching out to cup the curve of her breast, feeling the soft swell of her flesh through the thin fabric of her blouse."Like this?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Ellie's eyes fluttered closed, a soft gasp escaping her lips as you touched her. "just like that," she breathed, her hand moving to cover yours. 

Just as the intensity of your passion was reaching a fever pitch, a sudden knock at the door broke the spell. Ellie's eyes flew open, a startled look washing over her features as she quickly pulled back from you. "Wait here," she whispered urgently, scrambling to tidy her disheveled hair and straighten her blouse. 

You remained frozen on the edge of her desk, your heart still racing from the intimacy of the moment, as Ellie made her way to the door. She opened it a crack, peering out to confirm the identity of the visitor before allowing them in. You overheard muffled voices, a brief conversation that ended with Ellie's apologetic tone. "I'll be right out guys. We were just wrapping up." As soon as she closed the door once more, Ellie turned back to you, a sheepish grin on her face. "Looks like we need to pick this up another time, forgot I asked my friends to pick me up.." she said with a sigh, though her eyes still sparkled with desire. 

You reluctantly climbed down from the desk, smoothing out your skirt as you stood before her. "I'll see you tomorrow," you managed to say, your voice husky with lingering arousal. she nods and gives you a small peck on the lips.

Days turned into weeks, and the strange dynamic between you and Ellie settled into a new normal. You no longer met after class, no longer exchanged flirtatious banter or charged glances. 

It was as if the magical bubble that had surrounded you both had suddenly popped, leaving reality to intrude once more. You found yourself wondering if the whole experience had just been a vivid fantasy, a product of your overactive imagination. 

But then, one fateful day, you stayed after class, lingers in the doorway of the empty classroom. Ellie looked up from her desk, a look of surprise on her face. "You still here?" she asked, her voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. 

You took a step inside, your heart pounding in your chest. "Yeah, I wanted to ask you something," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Ellie's eyes widened, a mix of curiosity and apprehension etched across her features. "What is it?" she asked, her question heavy with unspoken meaning.

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest as you finally voiced the question that had been eating at you for weeks. "What are we, Ellie?" you asked softly, your words hanging in the air like a challenge. 

She looked taken aback by the directness of your query, her eyes widening slightly as she searched for the right words. "Well, for starters, you're my student," she replied, a touch of sternness creeping into her voice. 

But you noticed the way her eyes softened as she took in your expression, a subtle nod of understanding. "But that's not all, is it?" you pressed, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Ellie sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly as she settled back into her chair. "No, I suppose not," she admitted, her gaze dropping to the desk.

"Look, I know things got... complicated between us," Ellie began, her words slow and measured. "But I never meant for it to go this far. I'm your teacher, for God's sake." She looked up at you, her jade eyes pleading. "I care about you, I really do. But we can't... this isn't right." The words felt like a punch to the gut, the reality of the situation crashing down on you like a ton of bricks. 

You'd been so caught up in the thrill of the forbidden, the rush of exploring your desires, that you'd forgotten about the potential consequences of your actions. "What are we supposed to do now?" you asked, feeling lost and confused. Ellie stood up, walking over to stand in front of you. "We need to be smart about this," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "Let's take some time to think things through, yeah? I care about you too much to mess this up." With that, she reached out and gently brushed a stray hair behind your ear, her touch soft and reassuring. "I'll see you tomorrow in class, okay?"

You nodded, your heart heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions as you left the classroom. The rest of the day dragged on, each minute feeling like an eternity. 

Finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. You lingered outside the classroom, waiting for Ellie to emerge. When she finally did, she looked just as worried and unsure as you felt. "Hey, cmere." she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. 

You nodded, your throat suddenly dry. Without another word, Ellie reached out and took your hand, leading you out of the building and towards the nearby park. 

The cool evening air was a welcome respite from the stuffy classroom, and the lack of distractions allowed you to focus on each other. As you walked, Ellie began to speak, her words tumbling out in a rush. "I know things got complicated, and I'm sorry for leading you on. But the truth is... I've developed feelings for you. Real ones." She looked up at you, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I never meant to hurt you or compromise my integrity as a teacher. But I can't just stop caring about you, no matter what. I need to figure out what this means, for both of us."

As you walked through the park, the sun dipping below the horizon, Ellie's words hung in the air between you. 

You felt a rush of emotions - relief, hope, and a hint of trepidation all swirled together. "I want to make things right between us," she said softly, her voice laced with uncertainty. "Would you... come over to my place? We can talk, and figure some things out." The invitation felt heavy with unspoken meaning, the boundaries between teacher and student blurring once more. 

You looked at Ellie, her eyes wide and hopeful, and you knew in that moment that you would follow her anywhere. "Yeah, yeah sure." you said simply, your hand finding hers once more as you followed her off the path and towards her apartment.

Once you arrived at Ellie's apartment, she invited you in, gesturing to the cozy living room. You settled onto the couch, the worn leather creaking under your weight. 

Ellie took a seat beside you, her thigh pressing against yours as she turned to face you. For a while, you simply sat in comfortable silence, the soft hum of the city outside mingling with the crackle of the nearby fireplace. 

Finally, Ellie spoke, her voice low and thoughtful. "I know this is a lot to process," she began, her eyes searching yours. "But I care about you, more than I'm willing to admit. And I don't want to lose you, not like this." She reached out, her hand finding yours once more. "Can we... try to make this work? Whatever 'this' ends up being?" The question hung in the air between you, heavy with possibility and uncertainty.

You sat there in silence for a while longer, the weight of Ellie's question hanging heavy in the air. But as the minutes ticked by, you found yourself growing restless, your heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and desire. 

Without a word, you shifted on the couch, crawling over Ellie until you were half-on top of her. Her eyes widened in surprise as you loomed over her, your face inches from hers. And then, in a move that felt both sudden and inevitable, you kissed her, your lips pressing against hers with a desperate hunger. 

The world around you faded into oblivion as you lost yourself in the taste and feel of Ellie, your hands roaming over her body with a sense of wonder and desire. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you deepened the kiss, your tongues dancing in a sensual tango.

The kiss sent shockwaves through both of you, the sudden intimacy breaking down the last of your inhibitions. You could feel Ellie's heart racing beneath your fingertips as you trailed them down her sides, her skin hot and flushed against your touch. 

She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer as she returned the kiss with equal fervor. Your bodies pressed together, the softness of her curves molding against the hardness of yours. 

The couch creaked beneath you, a steady rhythm that only served to heighten the tension between your tangled limbs. Hands roamed, fingers exploring the contours of skin and flesh, seeking out the sweetest spots to touch and tease. Breaths came in ragged gasps, punctuating the deep, sensual kisses that seemed to last an eternity. The rest of the world receded, leaving only the two of you, lost in a world of desire and passion.

Ellie's fingers intertwined with yours as she gently tugged you towards the door, her eyes gleaming with a mix of anticipation and longing. "My room," she whispered, her voice husky with desire. 

You nodded, your throat constricting with excitement as you followed her down the hallway. Her room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the lamp casting shadows across the walls. Ellie led you to the bed, the plush carpet barely muffling the sound of your footsteps. 

She turned to face you, her hands coming up to frame your face, her thumbs tracing the curve of your cheeks. "Tell me to stop if you want," she murmured, her eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. 

But you could feel the tension between you, the air practically crackling with the promise of something more. "I don't want to stop," you breathed, your lips finding hers in a hungry, desperate kiss.

The kiss deepened, your bodies pressing together as you lost yourselves in the taste and feel of each other. 

Ellie's hands slid down your back, her fingers tracing the curve of your spine before coming to rest on your hips, pulling you closer. You could feel the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of her shirt, the scent of her perfume mingling with the sweet tang of her sweat. 

As the passion mounted, you found yourself growing more bold, your hands roaming over her body with a sense of wonder and desire. You broke the kiss, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you gazed down at her. Your eyes wandered over the soft expanse of her chest, the delicate curves of her collarbones rising just above the neckline of her shirt. Without a word, you leaned in, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin as you kissed a trail down her neck, your hands sliding up to cup her breasts through the fabric.

 "Can I take this off?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Ellie's eyes fluttered closed, a soft whimper escaping her lips as she nodded. "Please," she breathed, her hands coming up to assist yours, eager to shed the barrier between your skin and hers.

With a gentle tug, you freed Ellie's bra from the confines of her shirt, the soft fabric fluttering to the floor. You gazed up at her, your eyes drinking in the sight of her breasts, the rosy buds peeking out from a swirl of darker areolas. 

Without hesitation, you leaned in, your tongue darting out to circle one pert nipple, tasting the salty sweetness of her skin. Ellie gasped, her head falling back as she arched into your touch, her fingers tangling in your hair. 

You suckled harder, the tender flesh filling your mouth, the subtle flavor of her arousal mingling with the clean taste of her skin. Your free hand came up to palm her other breast, kneading the soft flesh as you explored her body with your mouth. 

Ellie writhed beneath you, her hips bucking up against the growing wet patch in your panties , seeking friction against your straining erection. You released her nipple with a soft pop, trailing kisses along her collarbone as you gazed up at her with a wicked grin. "taste so good," you whispered, your voice husky with desire.

Ellie's eyes widened with desire as she took in the sight of your disrobed form, the soft glow of the lamp casting shadows across your skin. She reached out, her fingers trailing over the curves of your hips, the swell of your breasts, the sensitive skin of your neck. 

You felt your pulse quicken, your breath hitching in your throat as you gazed back at her, your own eyes shimmering with anticipation. With a gentle tug, Ellie turned you around, her hands gliding over the small of your back as she guided you to sit on the edge of the bed. 

You felt a rush of excitement as she knelt behind you, her fingers dancing along your spine before disappearing beneath your rear. A gasp escaped your lips as you felt the cool air hit your bared sex, your thighs clenching together instinctively. 

Ellie's hands were a revelation, her touch both tender and bold as she explored your body with a sense of wonder. You closed your eyes, surrendering to the pleasure, lost in the sensation of her hands on your skin. And then, just as you felt yourself on the brink of ecstasy, Ellie pulled back, her breath coming in soft gasps. "need you so bad,"

Ellie's lips trailed a burning path down your spine, her tongue darting out to taste the salty skin. You arched your back, a low moan escaping your throat as her mouth reached the hem of your panties. 

Her eyes, dark with desire, met yours as she looked up at you, her question hanging in the air. You nodded, your breath coming in short gasps as you awaited her next move. With a gentle tug, Ellie pulled your panties down your thighs, exposing your glistening folds to her hungry gaze. 

She inhaled deeply, the scent of your arousal filling her nostrils and making her mouth water. Her hands came up to grip your hips, her fingers digging into the flesh as she leaned in, her hot breath wafting over your most intimate area. You could feel the tension building within you, your body trembling with anticipation. "Please," you whimpered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

Ellie's lips curled into a sultry smile as she looked up at you, her eyes gleaming with promise. With a soft hum, she leaned in, her tongue extending to circle your clit with delicate precision. 

You gasped, your hips bucking up involuntarily as jolts of pleasure shot through your veins. Ellie's hands slid around to cup your ass, her fingers kneading the flesh as she continued her sensual assault. Her tongue danced over your sensitive nub, flicking and swirling in maddening patterns. 

You writhed beneath her touch, your head thrown back in ecstasy as she explored every inch of your aching flesh. Her breath was hot against you, the moist warmth sending shivers down your spine. 

You could feel your orgasm building, the coil of tension winding tighter with each languid lap of her tongue. Ellie seemed to sense your impending climax, her pace quickening as she devoured you with a ravenous hunger. You were lost in the throes of pleasure, your mind blanking out everything except the sensation of her mouth on you.

Ellie leaned in close, her lips brushing your ear as she spoke in a husky whisper, her words dripping with desire and sweetness. "Fuck, you feel so good," she murmured, her hips rocking against yours in a slow, sensual rhythm. Her fingers curled around your hips, pulling you down onto the strap-on as she nibbled on your earlobe. "gonna make you feel so good, baby," she promised, her breath hot against your skin. 

Her tongue flicked out to taste the shell of your ear, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. "like that?" she asked, her voice a wicked purr. 

Ellie's murmurs grew softer, more intimate as she continued to move within you, her words lost amidst the symphony of pleasure. "Mine..." she breathed, her hips undulating in a slow, sensual grind. "So pretty baby..." Her lips found your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin as she spoke in hushed tones, her voice a soothing balm against your skin. 

Her hands roamed your body, tracing the curves of your hips, the swell of your breasts, as her hips continued their relentless pace. "My perfect girl," she whispered, the words a tender caress against your mind as you lost yourself in the throes of passion, her sweetness the soundtrack to your pleasure. 

as the strap bumped against her clit just the right amount, Ellie teetered on the brink of orgasm, her murmurs grew fewer and further between, her breaths coming in short, sharp gasps as she focused all her energy on the building pleasure. "Fuck," she gasped, her hips jerking against yours in a desperate rhythm. 

Her fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place as she sought that final push to send her over the edge. You felt her tense, her body coiling like a spring, ready to explode at any moment. And then, with a sharp cry, she came, her orgasm ripping through her like a tidal wave, her body shuddering and convulsing in the throes of ecstasy.

Ellie's cry was muffled against your neck, her teeth sinking into the soft flesh as she rode out the waves of pleasure. You felt her pulse quicken, her heart racing against your own as she came undone, her hips continuing to grind against yours in a slow, sensual rhythm. As the aftershocks faded, she lifted her head, her eyes glazed with satisfaction and a hint of lingering lust. 

She brushed a strand of sweat-dampened hair from your face, her touch gentle as she gazed at you with a look of tender affection. "Holy shit," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. "So pretty." She said caressing ur cheek.

As Ellie caught her breath, you shifted positions, lying down on the bed and gesturing for her to join you. 

With a coy smile, she obliged, straddling your face as she lowered herself onto your outstretched tongue. 

The musky scent of her arousal filled your nostrils once more, and you licked eagerly at her dripping folds, savoring the taste of her essence. Your hands came up to grip her hips, pulling her closer as you delved into her warmth with increasing urgency, your tongue swirling and circling her sensitive clit. 

Ellie moaned, her head falling back as she rocked against your face, her fingers tangling in your hair, “fucking hell—“ she whimpered.

You could feel her getting close again, her movements growing more desperate as she chased another climax. 

With a final, intense flick of your tongue, you sent her over the edge once more, her orgasm crashing through her like a tidal wave. She came hard, her juices flooding your mouth as she trembled and writhed above you, her cries of pleasure echoing off the walls of the room.

As the waves of her orgasm subsided, Ellie collapsed onto your chest, her body still trembling with aftershocks. You wrapped your arms around her, holding her close as you caught your own breath. "I love you," she murmured, her words muffled against your skin. "So much." "love you too," you replied, your voice soft and content. "Always." You lay there together, wrapped in each other's arms, the sound of your combined heavy breathing filling the room. 

It was a moment of pure intimacy, a snapshot of a life shared, of two people lost in the comfort and warmth of each other's embrace. And as you basked in the afterglow, you knew that no matter what lay ahead, as long as you had Ellie by your side, everything would be okay. "you’re so perfect," Ellie whispered, her lips brushing your skin. you smiled. "let's just stay like this for a while." And so you did

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

[jazzyoranges]

heyy i love how well written your works are, and i was wondering if there could be another tara carpenter x gp reader?? an enemies to lovers kinda thing, smut/fluff but it is totally up to you!! thankss❤️

All Mine

Tara Carpenter x gp!reader

Words: 2.8k

A/n: thank you!! also kind of a combination of this request and a prompt in this request

Warnings: reader has a penis, hate fuck? i think?, bottom!T, top!R, explicit sex, implication of breeding kink, teasing (lots of it), unprotected sex (your pullout game is weak), implication of alcohol consumption, no ghostface au

MINORS DNI!!

Tara hates three things in her life. You, hairless cats, and soggy bread. In that order too

She could handle hating hairless cats and soggy bread, but you? You were in Tara’s friend group. Tara hated you and to make matters worse, she was the only one that did

You were nerdy like Wes and Ethan, quick-witted and funny like Mindy and Amber, athletic like Chad, charismatic like Quinn, protective like Sam, and (allegedly) nice like Anika. You had nearly every one of her friends best traits, but Tara knew why she didn’t like you. You were really fucking annoying

Along with all of your positive traits, you were loud and obnoxiously social. Not that Tara was antisocial or anything, but god you were on a whole other level. It was mildly infuriating how you could go to a party you knew nobody at and somehow come out with more friends than you started with

All those people and you decided Tara was the one you’d annoy. A nudge to her shoulder made Tara look up from where she was putting her head down

“You look like shit” The brunette doesn’t respond and puts her head back down on the table

“Sam tase someone without your permission again?” Tara could practically hear the smirk in your voice

“Please for the love of god shut the fuck up. Your voice is the last thing I need to hear today”

“Woah, someone’s mad” You stick out your tongue in response at the glare Tara sends your way

“Suck my dick, (Y/n).”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Carpenter”

Tara abruptly leaves the lecture room. You think you really fucked up this time, but let out a breath of relief when you see that Tara didn’t grab her things. She was probably going to the bathroom to escape you. Which, who would ever want to escape you?

Apparently not Tara because she’s back in her seat just a few minutes before the lecture starts

“Aspirin?” You grab the bottle from a pocket in your bag, shaking it next to her

“You have Aspirin laying around?”

“Anika told me you were at a party, I figured it’s the least I could do”

“You’re trying to drug me, aren’t you?”

“If I was trying to drug you, I would’ve offered it to you at the end of class”

“Why weren’t you at the party?” Tara asks, taking the bottle from you hands and shaking out two tablets before downing them with some water

“Missed me?”

“Nope, just surprised you weren’t blackout drunk”

“Good to know you think highly of me. I was studying, thank you”

“You? Study?” Tara scoffs

“Don’t act like the idea is so out of this world”

“Right, because last time I remember you passing up a party was because your betta fish died and you forced all of us to have a funeral for him at the park”

“Trout’s death is not one to be made fun of!”

Before Tara can respond, the professor starts talking and the lesson begins. Unfortunately her head is still kind of throbbing with only mildly wanting to throw up. She had to accept she wasn’t going to get anything done until that Aspirin kicked in. Especially when she can feel you staring at her

The class goes as smoothly as it can and you notice Tara hasn’t made an effort to even try to take notes. The lesson eventually ends and when everyone gets up, the brunette begrudgingly does too

You bump your shoulders together and Tara glares at you with enough power you actually manage to feel fear for a split second until you realize it’s Tara. The girl was like two apples tall. Two and a half on a good day

The brunette doesn’t realize you were handing her a paper so you physically have to place it in her hand. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion

“What is this?”

“Notes, you need them”

“I’m not buying you Raising Canes if that’s what you want”

“Since I’m such a good friend, I’ll give it to you free of charge. Just make sure to bring it back with minimal damage”

“You’re not gonna make me Paypal you fifty bucks?” Tara doesn’t have any classes for the next few hours so you two made a point to walk to your next class. She didn’t know how it started, but you were okay to talk to when you weren’t being annoying

“In my defense, Trout recently died”

“We buried him in the fucking park, I don’t think that costs money”

“It was condolence money. I made everyone pay and I think it was pretty genius”

“I really do wonder how you still have friends”

//-//

Someone knocks on the door of you and Anika’s apartment. When you realize your roommate is probably listening to music that was too loud to be healthy, you get up from your very comfortable bed

You don’t remember ordering food and you’re pretty sure Anika didn’t invite Mindy over, so the person behind the door was probably just the nice old lady across the hall that made cookies for everyone

For better or for worse, you’re met with a Tara Carpenter that’s caught off guard when you open the door. Tara usually sees you in well put together outfits so you can only imagine her surprise when she sees you wearing boxers that outlined your cock and a hoodie that barely covered it up

“Eyes are up here- What brings you to the Mojo Dojo Casa House?”

“Can’t you just let me in?” Tara’s cheeks burn in embarrassment. Thank god you just glossed over… it

“It’s protocol you identify yourself and state why you’re here” You lean on the doorframe, actively blocking the entrance to your apartment. Tara knew this was a losing battle and hated how you looked hot while winning

“Anika and I have a project we need to work on”

“You didn’t identify yourself” you’re wearing that same dumbass smirk you have after telling a horrible joke

“Tara. Tara fucking Carpenter.”

“Unfortunately I don’t think we know any Tara Fucking Carpenters. Guess you can’t come in” you shrug

“God give me patience.” Tara rubs at her temples like you’re giving her a headache

“Isn’t it god give me strength?”

“If god gave me strength, you would be dead.”

“Point taken, but you still need a password”

“You didn’t say anything about a password!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know if you’re the real Tara or not. Say a fact about me only the real Tara would know”

The brunette pretends to think for a moment, even putting her hand on her chin and looking off into the distance for effect. When she notices you’re starting to get suspicious of her antics Tara pushes you though the door, successfully getting in without a password or confirmation

You stumble back almost like a cartoon character and you can hear Tara let out a small laugh. You can see the dimples on her cheeks whe she tries to cover it up with her hand

“Nika, your friend’s here!” You lead Tara to Anika’s room, making sure to knock loudly while Tara’s busy either checking you out or trying to blow you up with her mind. It’s unclear, but you have to lean towards the latter

“Isn’t Tara your friend too?” Your roommate opens the door, headphones around her neck

“No.”

“Yes.” Both of you say in unison. The look you give each other is almost comical with how Tara’s glaring while you’re smiling. Anika stares blankly between you two and it eventually starts to make more sense

“Stop eye fucking each other, we have work to do” Anika pulls Tara into her room. You shrug, heading off to probably yell at ten year olds on Fortnite or something

“We were not eye fucking” the shorter girl huffs, sitting on Anika’s bed

“I literally opened my door and thought you two were about to make out”

“I didn’t expect to get interrogated when I came here!” Tara flops onto her back, covering her eyes and trying (and failing) to stop the red that dusted her cheeks

“Whatever, I’ll get you to crack later”

“Kill yourself.”

//-//

Tara doesn’t understand what she’s feeling when she sees some random girl grind against you

It’s like that one scene in Euphoria when Maddy and Nate stare each other down at the school dance, except you were looking far more more bored. That is, until you see Tara glaring at both of you

Like a switch turned on, you’re suddenly more interested in the girl. You encourage her grinding with a hand kneading her hip, using your other hand to take a sip of your drink. And just like Maddy, she’s tempted to find Chad to do the same to you. She doesn’t.

Tara fucking hated you. But she also needed you now.

Making you jealous would take too long. In theory she had the time, but her hunger to taste you was making her do things she would’ve never thought of before. One of those things being grabbing your hand and leading you away from any girl that tried to even look at you.

The girl who was grinding on you calls her a bitch among other things, but Tara knows it’s worth it when she sees you smile at her like she’s your entire world. Because she was your entire world

She leads you into an empty guest bedroom of the house, locking the door before getting close enough to you she can smell the alcohol in your breath

“What’s all this about, Tar?” You grin. Tara doesn’t know if she wants to kiss or slap that smirk right off of your annoying face

“You know what this is fucking about.”

“Do I? I think you should spell it out for me.”

“You know, I’ve had it with your attitude.” Tara jabs a finger at your chest, the back of your knees hitting the end of the bed. In one motion you sit down and bring Tara down with you. You make her sit on your cock

“Anyone ever tell you you’re fucking hot when you’re mad?” You smile, finding the blush on Tara’s cheeks absolutely adorable

“Only you.”

“Good. How about we keep it that way, baby?”

“You’re so annoying.” The brunette cups your face with both of her hands, your lips fitting together like they were always meant to

“I know I am” You say in between kisses, your hands finding their way up Tara’s shirt, kneading the spot right under her boob. She forces your hand to stimulate her nipple, eliciting a moan from her mouth

“You’re so pretty, Tar. I can’t believe only I get to see you get all hot and bothered” You smile breathlessly

“Fuck. S-Stop talking like that or you’ll make me like you” Biting a hickey on Tara’s neck, you take of her shirt and her bra in a flurry of heat

“I bet you’ll like me even more when you’re bouncing on my cock” You force Tara to grind on the bulge in your pants, earning you a small whimper that makes you smile

“C’mon, all you have to do is admit you like me and I’ll fuck you better than anyone has” It should be considered torture how much you were teasing Tara. You were biting hickeys on her neck, playing with her nipples, all while a few layers of fabric were the only barriers between your dick and her pussy. Fuck you knew how to overstimulate a girl

Laying Tara on on the bed, you could really tease the brunette better in this position. You can feel the Tara’s wetness through her soaked panties, and you’re sure she can feel the pre-cum leak out of your cock. Your hands are on her hips as if you were thrusting, yet you deny her and your pleasure for the sake of being an ass

“Don’t you want me to ruin you for anyone else? I promise I’ll stretch you out so good no other guys’ cock can fill you up like me.”

“Fuck you. I hate you, you’re s-such a fucking asshole, you know that?” Tara reaches for anything she can hold onto, your arms being the nearest thing

“I can think ways you could ‘hate’ me even more” You smile when Tara reaches to take off her panties but you find her hands first. You intertwine your hands together and the action is so soft Tara almost forgets about the situation she’s in. Almost

“Whenever I masturbate I think of you, did you know that? God, sometimes I have these hookups and all I can think about is you cumming around my cock”

Tara thinks it’s embarrassing how she’s about to cum just by your sickeningly sweet voice and the constant friction between you two. Tara also thinks she’d rather die than miss an opportunity of a lifetime.

Sure you were a cocky pain in the ass, but you were her cocky pain in the ass.

“Fuck- I admit it! I think you’re the hottest fucking person in the world. I like you.” Tara looks straight into your eyes, and the smile reserved only for her makes another appearance

“That wasn’t so hard, was it Tar?”

“I still hate you.” You unbuckle your belt and unbutton and unzip your jeans with watchful eyes. You pull down your boxers just enough so that your cock springs out, making Tara’s mouth water. Fuck you were big

Pulling Tara’s panties to the side, she’s dripping wet when you swipe your finger across her slit

“Fuck- (Y-Y/n)” Tara sings when you lick up her juices with your tongue. She buries her hands in your hair, bringing you closer to her dripping cunt. You moan at her taste and the vibrations are almost enough to get Tara to cum. Almost

You rise to your knees, lining up your dripping cock with the shorter girls dripping pussy. You decide to be evil and rub your dick against her slit before easing your tip into her hole. It was infuriating how slow you were going and Tara remembers why she hated you in the first place

Tara’s whining and whimpering under you and you can’t remember a time where you’ve been happier than in this moment

Tara on the other hand, has never hated you more in her life than in this moment

The younger Carpenter decides to be bold when she grabs your shirt and forces you forward. You’re caught off guard and over half of your cock finds itself nestled tightly in her pussy as you catch yourself with your arms

“Y-You’re sneaky, aren’t ‘cha” With your face so close to hers, Tara realizes you’re as much of a victim to your teasing as she is. She can tell it’s taking everything inside of you not to fuck her raw until your dick is limp and Tara’s legs are sore

“You can go fast. I can handle it, baby” Tara cups your face with her hand, stroking your cheek with such softness like you aren’t literally lodged into her cunt like a dog in heat

With that confirmation, you give Tara a peck on the lips and buck your hips in such a way you hit that spongey spot inside of her

The sound of skin slapping is louder than the blasting music downstairs, but your grunting and Tara’s moaning combined are louder than both. Thank god the owner of the house was your friend because you don’t know if you could come out of that room if this is what Tara sounded like

“Fuck- I’m close” You say a little too breathlessly for your liking

“Don’t p-pull out.” The shorter girl uses your shirt as leverage to keep you inside of her. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion

“T-Too messy, don’t feel like cleaning up.” Tara answers between moans like she can read your mind

The familiar heat you’re so used to finally snaps. Wrapping her legs around yours, you cum with almost a guttural whine. Your orgasm is enough for Tara to have hers and you fuck her through it, making sure none of your cum drips out of her hole

You pull out and a few dribbles of your semen flow out of her cunt. You plug her pussy with your fingers and Tara is far too sensitive to handle it

“D-Don’t tell me you’re tired already?” Tara jokes, but all air in her lungs leave when you let out a laugh of your own

“I’ve got all night, love.”

Tara has to remember to make you buy her a morning after pill.