#then I'll have a little bit of time before summer classes start!!!

[run-down-that-dream]

another 100 words, 1 test, and 1 meeting away from a break ☀️

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 2 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

chapter 1 / chapter 3

During the school day, she'd ignore you as usual. Wandering the halls of Northshore, you'd catch glimpses of her but no more than that. It actually felt like you were seeing less of her than usual. It was hard to avoid somebody in a school like Northshore, but somehow she managed it. You doubted it had anything to do with you specifically. She'd been acting off since you'd had dinner at the Georges'.

After school, those days you went to Regina's house to do their yard work, it was as if a switch had been flipped. Gretchen and Karen weren't around. Regina had taken her mom's place on the patio and bathed in the sun as you worked.

You hated to say it was distracting. Partly because the whole thing had thrown you off kilter, like why was she doing all this all of a sudden, and also because she was hot. There was no question about it. Regina George was hot.

You desperately tried maintaining focus on the chlorine you were pouring into the pool, pretending you weren't all too aware of Regina lying not too far away from you, in a skimpy hot pink bikini, large sunglasses covering her eyes.

"Regina! Oh, that's such a cute 'suit you got, where'd you get it?" You were distantly aware of Mrs George stepping through the sliding door to the backyard. Regina muttered something in return. You didn't have to look to see Mrs George wilt at her daughter's dismissal.

It pissed you off. Regina didn't have to entertain her mom's every whim, she could be a bit much, even you could admit that, but she didn't have to be so mean.

You walked over to them with the empty chlorine bag in hand. "Hey, Mrs George." You called as you approached. "Margaritas?"

"Hi, sweetie! I brought you two some, gotta stay hydrated in this hot weather. All virgin, of course!" Mrs George winked and offered up the tray she had in her hands. You smiled gratefully and took one of the glasses. You were actually quite thirsty and Regina's mom made the best (alcohol-free) cocktails.

"Thanks," You said before taking a sip. Mm, strawberry and basil. Yummy.

"Just leave it there, mom. She's gotta work and I'm busy." Regina pointed at the little table next to the sunbeds before directing her attention back to, uh, lying in the sun. She sure looked busy.

"Okay, honey." Mrs George smiled, but the chirp in her voice was strained. "You just call and I'll be right here, alright?" She looked from her daughter to you.

"You got it, Mrs George."

Once the older woman had ducked out of the door and closed it behind her, you turned to Regina.

"You don't need to be mean, y'know." You took a sip, watching the pink slush move through the swirly straw.

"Excuse me?" Regina craned her neck in your direction, looking very uncomfortable. You walked around to the sunbed next to hers and sat down facing her.

"She just brought us margaritas." You said, continuing to sip on your drink.

"Uh, yeah, and I'm busy." She huffed before reaching for her own drink. "Why she feels the need to bother me is beyond me."

"She's your mom and wanted to do something nice." You rolled your eyes, already sick of her attitude.

Regina didn't bother responding. You adjusted on the seat so you were sitting on it the right way, legs kicked up and leaned back. You decided to relax for a few minutes. It was still the beginning of the school year, September barely just started, so summer was still lingering warm in the air.

There was a robin's nest in one of the apple trees. Red-chested birds flew around, from their home branch to the bird pool, to somewhere you couldn't see and back. Soon it'd be apple picking season. For the last two years of high school Mrs George had given you maybe more than half the apples since she didn't know what to do with so much. Before that, it used to be you and Regina. Picking apples, sitting on the branches, peeling each and every one and boiling them into jam with obscene amounts of sugar. Looking back, you were pretty sure doing all those things without proper adult supervision was like tempting a tragic accident.

(To be fair, you had fallen out of those apple trees once before. You were maybe twelve and it was the middle of summer. You'd lost your balance and toppled onto your wrist. Regina had nearly fallen herself scrambling down to get you. She'd cried more than you and you were the one with a broken bone. She insisted you pick a pink cast. She was the first to sign it, too.)

Out in the sun, it was much hotter than under the partial shade in the yard. You chugged the rest of your drink before standing back up. You pulled off your shirt as you walked to the patio stairs, leaving on just a sports bra and your shorts.

"Jean shorts are so lame," Regina said behind you. You turned to look at her and found her looking at you from over her sunglasses. Her eyes raked over your body, no doubt judging how much weight you'd gained since she last saw you without clothes.

Fuck. Not like that. That sounded wrong. You had spent a lot of time at her pool, both of you in swimsuits, as kids. A totally normal, non-sexual setting.

You shrugged, pretending her wandering eye did not make you insecure. "I like my jorts."

"Your taste is questionable." Regina scoffed, a little smile playing on her lips. "At best." She added sassily. You had a feeling she was mocking you.

"Thanks!" You struck a little pose, cocking your hip and blowing a kiss her way, responding in an equally snarky manner. You knew you didn't stand up to her fashion standards. Loose jean shorts down to a little above your knees, basic brown slides, and now sans a raggedy, well-loved Queen tee was not exactly high couture.

"You're not cute, jorts." She leaned up on her elbows and pushed the shades up to her hair. "I think I saw this exact outfit on you, like, three years ago." She pretended to think, finger on her chin. "So, when we were thirteen..."

"Yeah, you probably did." You chuckled. "You also called me jorts three years ago. So, clearly, nothing's changed, right?"

You both damn well knew a lot had changed. Still, she entertained you with a seemingly genuine smile. You smiled back before turning away to retrieve some tools from the shed. There was a gap in the fence that needed fixing.

Then, for the following week and then some, as if the past years of her ignoring you hadn't happened at all, she started speaking to you. Not at school, though, never in public. Only Kylie and Mrs George were privy to your rekindled friendship. You weren't sure if you could even call it that. Was it friendship if it was conditional to time and place?

You couldn't find it in yourself to care too much, though. You had your own crowd at school. You had things other than the Georges' yard work to do. Sometimes you went skating with the guys, picked up shifts at the shop, did chores and yard work at home, played video games, and on rare occasions studied. You had a life outside of Regina George.

So what if when you fucked up a trick and looked around all frantic, checking that Regina hadn't suddenly spawned at the skate park and seen your epic fall. So what if you spent your work hours thinking about her, counting down the minutes until you got to clean the Georges' pool again. So fucking what you wanted to beat the shit out of Regina in Mortal Kombat.

Maybe you did care. You wanted to spend more time with her. Was that a crime? If you could talk during the several hours of the day, five days a week, that the two of you went to the same school, then that want would've abated. But you had to wait. Sometimes there were several days in a row that you barely got a glimpse of her.

You sounded pathetic. Gosh. You hadn't realized how much you missed her until you got a taste of what it was like to have her back. You couldn't even remember what had caused her sudden avoidance back then. Something with Janice and a sleepover. The details had gone blurry since then. You hadn't even been at the sleepover, but you'd heard something bad had gone down. Something that caused Janis 'Imi'ike to switch schools for the remainder of middle school.

Sighing, you let your pencil fall from your hand. You fucking hated algebra. Functional math, business math, that you could deal with, but derivatives and parables and all that stuff? No. Just no.

You rolled your chair back from your desk and decided it was high time for some relaxation. You walked across the hallway to the computer room, planning on fucking around on RuneScape.

Before you could get into gaming, though, you checked AIM and noticed you had a message. From Regina. What? You click the chat open and see that it's been sent a pretty long while ago.

> can i come over? daddys home

You stared at the uncharacteristic message. You two never spent time at your house back then. It was always empty and you didn't have the same fun things Regina did. Mrs George had been a significantly better cook, to add. Your toaster oven tater tots and dino nuggies couldn't compare.

But, hey, maybe this was the start of something new.

> sure > when? whenevr is fine w me

That could've all been one message but, well, here you were. You jumped in your seat when she responded almost immediately.

> omw

Shit. You shot up from the desk chair, sending it rolling to the other side of the room. You shut down the behemoth of a machine as fast as you could, which wasn't very fast, and shot down the stairs. The living room was a mess 'cause you'd spent the last few days pigging out in front of the TV, playing videogames and eating exclusively takeout.

You spent some time in the pantry trying to look for a garbage bag, time was running out, before rushing to the crime scene that was the couch. Styrofoam containers, probably some cutlery, empty bags of Cheetos and whatnot, empty cans, all that flew into the bag. You wouldn't have time to vacuum, so you just brushed the crumbs away into the couch cushions or onto the floor.

You were almost done when the doorbell rang. You had collected all the trash, but you still had to put away some of the still good leftovers. Didn't wanna waste those since you could eat it later.

"Hi!" You exclaimed, a little too riled up to seem sensible at the door. "I was just cleaning up."

"I see that." Regina drawled, eyeing the garbage bag as well as you. You'd completely forgotten about how you looked.

"Shit, sorry," You looked down at your body and the unfortunate clothes draped over it. Blue briefs with little Spidermen printed on them and a ratty grey hoodie with a devastating stain right on your chest. Your hair probably looked just as bad. You hadn't been bothered to fix up your bedhead, it was a goddamn Sunday.

"Don't worry about me." Regina, with her hands at her hips, looked at you expectantly. "So..."

"Yeah, uh, just stay here," You turned and put your sandals on. "I'll put this to the trash and, I still gotta put some things away and then you can come inside."

Regina just stared at you. You pursed your lips together and hustled past her, down the porch steps and toward the trash cans. By the time you'd hauled the bag away, you could no longer see Regina on the porch.

"Regina! I said don't go in!" You ran after her.

"Don't be ridiculous, jorts, I'm not afraid of a mess. Gosh." You could hear her from inside, probably taking her shoes off. That'd been a thing at your house always, but you didn't expect her to remember.

"Fucking- fine, okay, just..." You huffed as you spied her saunter into your living room as if she owned the place. She slumped down onto the couch, the very same you'd slept on the previous night.

You collected the food from the coffee table and moved it to the kitchen. You gave tentative sniffs to glean if they'd gone bad already. They'd only been out in the open for like, less than a day. So it was probably fine.

"When'd you order that?" Regina's voice came from behind you unexpectedly. You turned to her, caught with your nose in some noodles.

"Uh, last night..." You wiped at your nose with your sleeve.

She walked up to the container, right up in your space, and also gave it a sniff. Then she shrugged.

"I was thinking the same," You poured the noodles into Tupperware and shoved it into the fridge.

"Why's your fridge so empty? Has your dad gone bankrupt?" Regina stepped in before you could fully close the door.

"No, Reggie, he's fine. I don't have the money to stock up like your mom."

Regina turned to look at you, a displeased pout on her lips. She'd always hated it when you called her that. "I fucking hate that stupid nickname. And what do you mean you don't have the money?"

"I mean I don't have the money?" You paused in pouring beef and broccoli into another container, turning to look at her.

"Doesn't he send you money or make someone do it for you when he's away?"

You smiled a little bitterly. "He hasn't done that since I was, like, twelve." You paused. "Well, he's always sent me money but he used to have my babysitter buy groceries when I was way young."

Regina's lips twisted like she was genuinely thinking. You continued, feeling weird now that such a weirdly vulnerable conversation had been opened: "He sends me an allowance every week for groceries and school lunch, but it's not that much. If I didn't work at yours or at the shop I'd be toast." You grinned as you put on the last lid, moving to put the last two containers into the fridge too.

Regina didn't look all that amused. She was still frowning at your fridge, the rather pathetic state of it. You could admit it was pretty bleak. Two-litre bottles of various sodas, microwave meals, and an astonishing amount of condiments were not a sight that sparked hope.

"That's weird," Regina commented. "It's like you're poor but with a nice house."

"Gee, thanks so much, Reg, that makes me feel so good and seen." You drolled. "Oh, you think I have a nice house? That's nice."

"It's alright, I guess. Mine's better." Back to her usual, unthinking and overall not-that-nice persona. This was familiar territory.

"I would know. I work there." You motioned for her to follow you to the couch. "I'm gonna pick your apples soon."

"Daddy's home now. I don't know if you can." Regina sat with her shins tucked under her, leaning her side against the back of the couch. You sat a comfortable distance away, facing her with your legs crossed.

"What did your dad do again?" You asked, trying to remember.

"I don't fucking know." She gestured with her hand. "Human trafficking?"

"I hear it's a lucrative business." You grinned, enjoying talking like this with your old friend.

"We should start a company. Who'd you think would have a good price at our school?" She looked so excited at the prospect of talking shit about your peers. It was a little adorable, but in the way that a man-eating beast was. Like a devil cougar or something like that.

"I think that's eugenics, Reg." You muttered, jokingly wincing. "That's problematic."

"What, are you gonna sue me?" She leaned forward, inclining her head cheekily. "With what money?"

"With daddy's money, you fuck!" You laughed. "What money are you gonna sue me with? Wait, let me guess, uhh... Daddy's money."

"I'll have you know, it might be mommy's money." She widened her eyes dramatically as she began to tell the story. "I did some snooping around, and it just so happens daddy might not be the breadwinner after all, because-"

As Regina got into telling you about Mrs George's strange investments, which she and Kylie both had been pretty sure were pyramid schemes, you listened keenly and watched as she spun the story. She'd always been a good storyteller, good with performing and making the room pay attention to her. It was a shame she'd started to use her powers for evil.

Sitting here, Regina George on your dirty couch in her designer clothes and all, listening as she told you about the most mundane things in her life, made you feel warm in a way you hadn't in a long time. Loneliness was a quiet thing. It snuck up on you and you hadn't even noticed.

You hoped she wouldn't duck out of your life again.

Notes: Written late at night. My eyes don't work like they used to before. Might've missed some spelling errors or weird grammar. I'll return to it after I've slept. Also, in case you haven't noticed, this is firmly set in 2004. This story takes elements from both films, 2004 and 2024, but time-wise it is 2004. Another thing, I changed up the chapter titles. Originally, the first part was the prologue but then I thought about it and it really isn't like a prologue. So, that was chapter 1 and this is chapter 2. Bye-bye, party people.

Taglist: One person asked for this lmao, but I am but a servant of the people. Comment on this post if you wanna be tagged on the next part when it comes out. Disclaimer! Chapters will not usually come out this fast.

@autorasexy

[capslocked]

KINKVEMBER DAY: 9

[prompt: problematic relationships]

male reader x nana

10k words

"Do you have any idea how long I've thought about it?" Nana slips a finger between the buttons of your shirt. "You, me - us?"

And here, you actually, truthfully do not want to know.

So, go ahead, cue up the sound of a mental rolodex spinning out while you start to list the very real, very valid, very adult reasons you should never, ever put your hands on her. (1) She's too young for you, (2) you're kind of a community figure, or at least someone who has to appear to be one, and more pertinently (3) she was your student not long enough ago - in your ethics class, the irony of which is not lost on you - and that makes it the kind of dirty, low thing you'd feel guilty for even masturbating to. Let alone actually attempt to live through, no matter how insistent some parts of you might be to the contrary, a point emphasized by the pressure of her finger against the dip just below your sternum.

"These... oh, how should I call them." Nana hums softly just before easing a bit of distance between the two of you, head tilting like she's in a trailer for this summer's romcom, and not, you know, trying to drag you into hell. "Filthy little fantasies?"

-

You're a high school teacher, interdisciplinary. Sometimes history, other times philosophy, you've also taught math - and once, egregiously, home economics when the faculty member whose usual duties consisted of teaching the class was out on a very sudden and scandalous maternity leave. But it's your love of literature that finds you in a bookstore near enough to the high school to sell more used copies of intro textbooks than actual novels.

You're paging through a book you'd say you're considering buying - if any of the store staff were to push the question onto you - when she appears at the other end of the fiction aisle.

You catch the look first of her dyed hair, this perfect shade of chocolate, to the edges, the fade-to-brown, cascading over where a more formal shirt would ostensibly have shoulders.

She smiles; it's pretty.

Then, you make the mistake of glancing down and seeing the modest rise of her chest beneath a crisp-collared sleeveless top; all your typical college-age tells but for the red flannel, rolled back down around her waist. Her fingers, long and thin, dangle from where a uniform button-down would taper off around her wrist, thumb rubbing lazily at her forearm. The briefest glimpse of her nails, all done up in acrylic - perhaps the most potent way to show contempt for an old dress-code.

You have, admittedly, also noticed the length (appropriately, the lack thereof) of her pleated skirt and those frilly stockings that ride so far up the creamy curves of her thighs that it has your stomach rolling and tightening when she shuts closed the book in her hands and says -

"Isn't it weird how most of the novels in the romance section are written by women?”

- she speaks with a slow deliberateness, like she'd only ever hoped to find one of her old teachers alone and slightly vulnerable in a used bookstore -

“Like, how do you think a man would even go about writing those kinds of stories?" She grins, because maybe this isn't really a question at all - not one meant for you, certainly. And for one wild moment, the rush of relief (she's not actually talking to you), then panic (she's actually talking to you.) surges through you.

But then the girl pushes another couple books along the shelf and continues.

"Because I'll tell you what, Professor - all this stuff," a flip-flip-flip of her fingertips against a leathery dustjacket, "about just feeling it, not being able to control it. It's all women, always women." Another wave of her hand to set another row of spines a-shuddering. "Do you ever think maybe people will get tired of listening to girls talking about feelings when what they really need to see is what guys would do?"

There are so many reasons you should turn and run. 

So many little flags, flickering wildly in your mind. This is one of your students. Was it this fall? Maybe the last; she had sat front-center. Never slept in, was one of your best by several measures - not simply in regards to the simple repetition of classroom work, but by her insistence on getting in the kind of heated discussion where one might dig their fingers through the innards of your lectures. Not just good - fantastic.

"Nayeon," you end up saying, flat as your suddenly paper-dry mouth can make it - with just the tiniest hint of unease. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

And almost as if she knows that you're trying not to let your eyes dip any lower than the collar of her shirt, her shoulders do that lilting little move (hiking up and away just so), the one that your girls tend to learn a long, long time before your boys ever manage to figure out. She laughs out this pleasant sound, adds: "not that long, sir."

"Well," you're clearing your throat, looking around the bookstore like it might contain a way out, and eventually landing somewhere on her skirt, "you know how fast it all goes."

"Nana, by the way."

“I’m sorry?”

“Nana,” She gently corrects you again with this mischievous slant to her smile, and you start remembering: all the gossip and rumors, how she was being courted by these talent-scouts and labels. A prodigy, or as close to it as anyone from this town could ever get.

Your eyes are starting to sting again when she, this perfect-fit model of your worst impulses, runs her hand through her hair, tugging at the roots a little bit, a silver wristwatch falling slightly down the perfect length of her forearm. It almost hurts not to reach out and steady her. And it definitely shouldn't, but it has you breathing a bit faster. The rationalization: you are a man, and there is a perfectly ordinary part of you that might be aroused by any amount of smooth, inviting skin. That's fine. You're fine.

"Just for the record," Nana starts, still looking like she wants to put a hand forward and hook one long fingernail into the buttons of your shirt. "You were, like, absolutely one of my favorite teachers."

"I guess it's nice to hear I'm not a complete lost cause," you say.

She snorts. "Oh, definitely not." And maybe because, after all of the years you have been teaching these soon-to-be lawyers, politicians, and doctors, you've come to not look down on them for saying the wrong things so much. Though you do envy their absolute ability to say the wrongest of things - just so - just on purpose.

"Are you," you nod at the thick stack of paperback novels that she is still holding, and with which, suddenly, she's bashful and flustered - this perfect shade of pink blossoming through her cheeks. "Actually here to buy those?"

The response: a demure little shrug. A drawl. "We all have our vices, professor."

"I'm not your teacher anymore," and remembering at the last moment, "Nana, you can drop the honorifics, please."

She holds a book out, cover turned toward you, and your mind stalls - even your fingers slip a little where they are resting on the spine of your own paperback purchase. The title is an affront to literacy, and the art on the cover seems to have been produced only with stock photos, gaudy.

"Have you heard of it?"

"Can't say that I have."

"Well," she laughs and has the courtesy not to lay it at your expense, "it is so good." Then, without missing a beat, she twists her lips together, and finds the book flush against your chest. "I'm sure it beats reading textbooks and essays about the merits of Locke and Hobbes' life-after-death stuff all day, anyway. An hour if you can spare the time? I'd love to hear your thoughts on it"

And - ah, there it is. The push.

-

There is a zero percent chance that, after any of this, things will end neatly for either of you. 

You still wonder, slightly, how long Nana will keep up the charade before breaking character - because there's no way in hell she doesn't see what she's doing: wrapping you around her pretty fingers, her shiny, manicured nails, twisting every chance you get to reject her into an excuse to linger that little bit longer.

But it's well over an hour spent at the cafe-end of the bookstore, where she orders an iced-coffee and fills you in on the details you don't really need to hear, what she's been up to these last couple semesters - playing twenty questions; questions about other faculty members, the school, if the school newspaper is still anything like it used to be (for the record: no), then coming back to if you've been seeing anyone lately. That last one slips in so naturally you can't stop yourself from taking a slow drag off of the straw in your drink and answering: "not recently."

Because no honest deed goes unpunished, or however the saying goes.

"Hey," her hands splay out over the tabletop, pushing the cold, condensing water of her glass, smudging where a finger drags a line through the pool.

Maybe she knows. How you're already caught, and there's no going back, which is to say you're perfectly free to watch, hungrily, where her throat moves, and then where her lips part.

"I’ve got the perfect thing for that," and for one unhinged, hysterical moment you picture it, Nana: lying back against a counter or maybe in the cushions of a sofa, panties thrown carelessly over her shoulder; heaving out this soft, heady gasp. You: pushing inside of her for the very first time, both of your legs bracing, the heel of her foot pressed into the small of your back - but before you can convince yourself that she can't be talking about that, and just barely before the air gets stuck in the back of your throat and you realize that you might be so thoroughly, tragically fucked -

"Read this." A snap back into the here and now. She is looking at you very pointedly, not naked - but beautiful and perfect as she leans a bit into the table and crosses those lovely, lovely legs of hers, and tilts the copy of that awful, awful filth at you.

"Nana, respectfully, this is drivel," you say, immediately and plainly, listening to Nana laugh out loud as you glean more than you need to know from the info on the inside cover. "They've crossed like five major genre boundaries for a hook-up. Why should anyone bother?"

"Come on." She waves it off with a careless gesture of her hands. "There's plenty of things to like. Maybe you should give it a chance - broaden your horizons, teach. Besides - the sex scenes?" She rolls her shoulders with the same shrug you remember watching so carefully all those times she made her way, out of the hallways and back into that front-and-center-seat she was always occupying whenever the bell rang. "So filthy. I can show you one of my favorites."

"Doesn't really seem like appropriate reading material for -"

"You said it yourself," her voice has a bright, saccharine tone, just on the right side of strained. And between sips of that straw stuck in the purse of her pert, little mouth, she draws that next sentence - the ice cracking, thinning under your feet -

"Not my teacher anymore."

Nana smiles; this brash, cock-sure thing that reminds you, as you try to clear your throat of the nerves making a bed there: you are actually so, so fucking gone on her. So far gone it hurts, when, with a flourish and a bounce and a complete, reckless lack of discretion, she starts paging through the first chapters.

"Who says you can't study these kinds of stories on an academic level? Think about it: sex sells. Whoever ends up writing, it's a whole lot easier and a hell of a lot cheaper than trying to do it all yourself." She looks up, this mischievous twinkle in her eyes, as she angles her fingertips down on the book and opens it - page after page of very obviously poorly-written sex. You look, not even consciously.

But of course, her fingertips drift lower and lower along the pages until it's evident: she doesn't have an exact page in mind, but only a particular passage -

"Here. Let me show you, just one."

"Alright, fine," you start - trying for an effect of exasperation, something to mitigate this god awful throbbing, "whatever - you get one, one sample paragraph and I'll, you know, whatever."

"Yeah, you'll definitely see. Just trust me. Just the one."

She drums her long, gorgeous nails against the table, then eases back with a finger highlighting the text.

You're screening and scanning the words as she tells you about the heroine in the story: a pretty girl who comes down with a bad case of infatuation for her teacher - unrequited, of course. And then, into a passionate affair, of course; all the most raucous, explicit details laid out over the table for everyone else to hear. She says it is about as nonchalantly as though she had been reading you the daily weather forecast and not an elaborate metaphor for - and here, you stop her.

"He cums on her desk?"

"Fucking hot, right?" She nearly snorts and gestures you onward, her eyebrows jumping - go on, go on.

So, you skim along: a heavy rush of nausea (alongside another) pulsing down around your gut at the thought of actually doing such a thing, your ears going hot and your legs crossing on instinct. There's not so much a breath of hesitation as Nana, cool, unfazed, and utterly unaware of the uncomfortable churning of your stomach and the simultaneous thrumming in your cock, takes another deep swig of coffee.

She hums, thoughtful. "Honestly? Kinda wished it happened to me like that. You were a good, good teacher, professor. I wouldn't have minded your hands all over me." You hear her laugh, and the entire universe collapses like the end-days. You are struck down with feverish conviction: this girl is the worst. 

"Anytime you wanted," she adds, so carelessly.

There's a clunking sound, of glass on wood; a half a second where you almost lose control over yourself.

“Nayeon,” you let slip, the old name - a mistake of an invitation she grasps like a weapon. All coming to a glint in her eye that says she knows how you see it, how you can still picture her sitting with her hands folded over the skirt of her uniform, chest rising and falling beneath her cotton shirt. Studious, taking notes, acting every bit the naive sweetheart everyone believed her to be.

You shudder out some pretense of composure and settle back a few inches as she continues to coax a reaction out of you, prodding: "how many girls did you make confess back then, hm? Did it ever do them any good?"

"Dial it back, Nana."

Her expression is all feigned, gentle surprise. "But sir," she looks at you so innocently, "you said I should drop the honorific."

You want to argue that, you also want to tell her off for being such a brat - to demand that, instead, she cut the shit, sit back, and remember who you both are, but when, with a wink and a smirk, she's getting up out of her seat, Nana sets a gentle, reassuring hand on your shoulder as she pushes her chair back beneath the table. You get onto your feet, and when the two of you are stood close together like this - she's really and truly that much smaller than you remember. Waist so tiny you think you could almost, almost wrap two hands all the way around her; skirt rising all too easily when she tosses her weight between her heels.

"I hope you know what you’re doing," you tell her, sternly - the voice of a teacher whose patience is running thin.

But no matter where you look, the consequences are dire and immediate: an abject fascination, a kind of debilitating greed; the absolute fucking loss of ability to look her directly in her eyes. Not like Nana isn't staring right through you. There's no doubt some part of her relishes the feeling.

"Hey, what do I know?" This sweet, demure-like chuckle follows. "It's just porn, right?”

-

Eventually, Nana says to call it a night because the sun's long set into the horizon and the chill starts getting at the both of you.

She tells you while you're packing up your belongings to come by again sometime, her voice teasing as she explains that you should pick out a new novel to read for your benefit.

Which is possibly the ideal outcome, all things considered, if it wasn't for the way she found herself in your hands just a few paces into the parking lot - no one around to catch you, where you're gripping fast onto her wrist and pressing the lines of her body into door of your car, looming and ready to give a piece of your mind.

You know what you ought to say - things like don't bother, you've enjoyed her company, she's fun and sweet, and in a dozen different ways: be a good girl, and go home. You had your fun, didn't you? But she's practically begging, those huge, wide doe eyes that stare straight up into your soul.

"C'mon,” her voice lilts into a deeper, more purposeful register, “you wouldn't turn down a student on her way home, would you?

(This fucking girl.)

She speaks of propriety, like you aren't a man of your own principles - like you aren't reaching down to press a kiss to the swell of her lips like she undoubtedly deserves. To lick into her mouth and pull and kiss and bite until she's trembling, teeth caught in a delicate whimper. Or, that you aren't running your hands down her sides to find the backs of her knees and draw them upward, hooking your hips flush against hers.

She's all too breathless, watching you draw off her lips, fingers fast in your shirt, your hair - holding you close.

Then finally, a true, honest reflection of your heart. Nothing less than sheer and utter capitulation: "let me take you home."

Nana just nods before wrapping her arms around your neck and kissing you again.

-

It's definitely on you for expecting anything different, but Nana fucks like she talks.

Conceited. Brash. A little selfish.

The girl's sitting there on her kitchen counter with one leg hooked over your shoulder. She's stripped herself down to near nothing save for those fuck-off ridiculous panties: slick, shiny with a thick strip of satin between her lips, complete with white lace frills and all; the same ridiculous pattern as the thigh-high stockings clinging tight around the soft-gentle fat of her legs and the lace top of her garter. Her pussy - all tight and pink and soaked - has left this shimmering, shiny mess that's trailing down the insides of her thighs.

Your fingers are in the elastic of her panties, near bruising the curve in her waist where she's rocking, flushed and keening against your grip.

You tell her, "take these off."

"Off?" She repeats it back to you with the same little grin: playing dumb, the smart, charming ass she's been all night.

"I'd tell you what I really want to do to you," you start, pushing your fingers in a little harder, eliciting another pretty moan. "But I'm really, really sure you can fill in the blanks yourself.

"I hope you're not planning on being rough with me," she teases, running her hands all through your hair as she pulls herself against you - and of course, it's her audacity to insist, "no marks." She drops a chaste little kiss along the underside of your jaw. "At least, nothing that might show up on a camera."

Someone with a little less baggage might have done just that. Might have jerked her panties down a couple inches further - ripped the cloth, exposed her even more. You might have followed the waistline further along the perfect round of her ass, found those dips and dimples that, maybe, no one else has ever gotten to explore. You may have grasped at the ends of her hair and gotten your fingers in her pussy without ceremony - driven Nana to the very brink of her climax just before palming two greedy handfuls of that ass - shoving yourself right there between her lips and, lost to shame, put a fucking kid in her.

All the things she must be dying for you to do.

"Something the matter?" She pushes her mouth into yours for a kiss that has all the urgency of a lazy Sunday morning. Your tongue against hers, languid and gentle at first; wet-sloppy, kissing and sucking on her bottom lip. You can feel her smirking when she says, "don't tell me you've forgotten how."

It's a lot, the effort you're putting in not to crumble - to crack at her taunts, snap your restraint, the temptation. You just wanna grab her pretty tits in both hands, shake her, and say: "shut the fuck up." But no - even in your wildest fantasy, you want to hear her first - beg you to make a wreck of her. So you force the words between your lips, dry and cracking:

"Not a fucking chance."

A laugh. "Guess I'm in good hands, then. Have to admit," Nana slides her hands down to hook under your own, bringing them lower. She grinds your fingers in slow circles over that one, aching, perfect little bud - a shock that has her curling tight inward until she's whining, clutching at her waist. "Not the - not the situation I had in mind."

Nana shifts her weight a bit more on one hip, guiding you through rubbing along the entrance to her slit - sloppy with precum, silky and aching - and when you place just the lightest pressure over all that hot skin, she opens her mouth: 

"Ah."

Her eyes, her hair, her fucking mouth - you can’t look away - she’s so gorgeous it hurts.

Even the way she pants; the perfect furrow between her brows. And then, you dip a finger inside her, just to the first knuckle. It’s enough to make her whine, all shaky and high.

"Go on then, with how you’d pictured it," you press, already easing your digit in and out; slow, slick pumps that she is growing hotter, needier around. "I'm sure you've touched yourself to it more than a few times. The details and - stuff - must have been vivid."

"You haven't the slightest clue."

A brief kiss. You coax another shy sound from her, drawing a long sigh against her mouth -

"Try me, Nayeon."

"This is a lot closer to the truth than you’d think, professor." This time, no correction, she just smiles wide and tosses her head back, asking, sweetly, as if to absolve you of the responsibility. "Do you have any idea how long I've thought about it? You, me - us?" 

Nana slips a finger between the buttons of your shirt and starts to pull.

On that detail, you actually, truthfully do not want to know.

"These... oh, how should I even call them." She hums softly just before easing a bit of distance between the two of you, head tilting like she's in a trailer for this summer's romcom, and not, you know, trying to drag you into hell. "Filthy little fantasies?"

"You know," you start. And by this point, her cunt's that much tighter. You've managed two fingers now, but no further, and she's making these desperate, punched-out gasps. Her clit's a swollen pink nub, jutting out from its soft hood. "I really had you pegged all wrong."

"Not - not at all. You can fuck me just fine, trust me - ah. Please, you can fuck me anyway you want."

And here, you grab a little higher on her hips, pinching her on the outside of a thigh, and begin working your fingers fast. You've never cared much for teasing, not really, but something about the way she squirms in your grip, tries to lean up and grasp onto your shoulders with shaking hands, it gets you smiling. It gets you grinning, even, especially the way she makes these pretty noises: a long, desperate little, "ah," at each press and thrust, her breath going high and uneven. 

"Listen, Nana -" She squeals out loud when you push your fingers just a little deeper, a little bit harder. "I'm not going to talk about what a slut you've been today or how badly I want to spread you wide open," you can already tell it's affecting her: the sudden change, the subtle hitch in her breathing, the tremor where her thighs press together. "Tell me about you, about your little ideas. Let me help."

"Wouldn't be fair." Her pussy's getting tighter, urgent with want. And still:

"C'mon now. Humor me a little. There was probably-" you say, sliding down that ridiculous pair of underwear along her ass, tugging them over the curves of her legs - so slow and easy, all while you're not bothering with easing off. Nana moans again; voice pitched. "Lots. Lots and lots of dirty things - and, I'm willing to bet my career that they made you a hot, mess - an awful, soaking fucking wreck. Who could've guessed? You, of all people, with just the right kind of teacher's-pet-appeal, hm?"

And you meant it to be a joke, just some ribbing. But the question has her immediately tensing, looking at you very intently, no trace of shame as she snaps back -

"Your mouth." She rocks forward. "Your fucking mouth."

You shouldn't keep touching her, you shouldn't keep staring, you shouldn't push her flat on her back and shove your face right into her cunt, you should pull away before this goes too far - it shouldn't be your fingers drawing out sopping-wet gasps out of her pussy, nor should you press your tongue to her cunt, your mouth to all that delicate flesh and, at your first taste, shiver.

Nana laughs: shaky, nervous. Then, your fingers sink back into her pussy alongside your tongue, your lips, the way even your hot breath against her aching pussy has her all stunned, breathless - and -

"Please."

- right before she breaks off into a beautiful sound that catches her hard in the chest.

(A sound like you’re all she could ever want in this life, maybe the next; it’s this wordless plea.)

"Hah, I had - ah, had so much - hah - dirt on you, used to masturbate thinking - ah," and there, she arches her spine, forcing a sigh out, "thinking about how you might punish me." She laughs - nearly choking. "How you might break down all your veneer of being a good, moral man and fuck me raw and rough and - ah - fuck. Oh god, fuck."

You twist your fingertips up just so, right against this perfect spot in her, and all the sudden the entire line of her body seizes - stiffens up, the muscles in her thighs twitch as you both moan through the moment, the spasms reverberating in your own ears, loud and unashamed, right against her wet, wet clit. Your fingers are fucking and fucking and fucking away in her cunt, harder and faster and sloppier, every word, every groan, every gasped breath only making it easier to forget. To give in. And with every heavy slap and squelch of your fingertips digging in as deep as her body allows - you're sending her that much closer.

You pull back long enough to bite out: "cum whenever you want, Nana.”

She can’t, she can’t, she can’t, is what she’s trying to say, bracing against how your tongue moves around her clit, and she knows, there’s no use fighting it.

A kiss against her swollen mound and she writhes. “There you go sweetheart, cum for me.”

Nana comes undone. Gradually at first, then vaulting over that edge all at once. She lifts and lowers her hips - pushing your fingers into the smooth, velvety muscles of her cunt; rocking up and up again. It's a torturously slow kind of grinding, and her feet find purchase on either side of you as her toes curl, one heel digging into your shoulder. An assurance; a promise; a lifeline; that she might tremble and shake through it, moaning.

“Fuck,” and, “god,” and, “you’re gonna make me-” slip past her lips alongside all the assured gasped-out cries for relief - the orgasm sweeping through her, tearing her apart.

Back pitching, shoulders narrowing, face twisting, cinching tighter and tighter -

Until she collapses.

Until it’s over.

As she lays there, chest heaving, arm draped carelessly across her forehead and half over a kitchen cutting board - her thighs splayed open, fucked and spent - she's so, so beautiful.

And it’s in that sort of fucked-up-noodly-state where she just slides right into your arms - those long, slender legs wrapping tight around your middle. "Here's the deal," you say, grabbing hold of her hips and steadying her, as best as either of you can.

"Hm." This lazy, sated look, the way her tongue's dragged out - slow and slick - across the top of her teeth and bottom of her lips. "Go ahead, sir. I'm listening."

The lip service - that coy little appeal to authority that maybe you’re actually plenty fond of - it makes you stop for the barest of moments. This girl, she's unreal. How hard could you ever be asked to resist her?

She lifts a brow. "Professor."

So you continue:

"I'm going to get out of these clothes, and we are going to see what happens after that - if you have a preference for the bed or the sofa, now's your chance to pipe up. Or else -"

"Or else-" She repeats, shifting her weight around again. You can feel how she adjusts her heels to hang higher up your ribs, rocking her weight against your abdomen, against your cock - and the instinctual twitch that runs through your spine is turgid and rough. Like a shot. If it had a smell, it'd probably remind you of gasoline.

And then, maybe just to rile you up even more: "the dining room table makes a good impression of a teacher's desk, no?"

You slide your hand along the backs of her thighs until you have a good, tight, high hold on them and pick her up, leaving the panties, the stockings, all of it down where they can gather dust or whatever - she giggles, and tightens her hold around you like she doesn't need to worry about falling.

"I'd rather fuck you into a mattress to be perfectly candid."

Nana throws back her head and laughs - this real, honest-to-goodness peal of laughter, a hint of playfulness where there was usually just a practiced ease. "Oh. So forward."

(In all likelihood, you're both going to hell, and on the off chance you meet down there, you figure you'll fuck her then, too.

You've read the myths, the Greek tragedies, the ones that have these gods descending from the heavens on human women, for pleasure and nothing but, you've read those stories and plenty more - the details don't matter: it's always a bad, bad end for everybody involved.)

She takes you upstairs. And the two of you fall through the doorway to her bedroom, stumbling all the way.

Her apartment is simple and clean in the way all young adults try to emulate, all white countertops, but with pictures hanging in little, neat rows on the walls and the space void of anything with some sort of character or history.

You know because you're fumbling toward a dresser or desk or bookshelf in an attempt to orient yourselves, bumping and tussling, half-blind, on your path forward and all of a sudden there's a goddamn framed photo in your hand - not of her family, thank god. Though just about every other person in the picture is familiar to you, you remember every single one - but all you're capable of focusing on is Nana, Nayeon: not quite the same. The same glint in her eyes, the way her smile has a timeless kind of quality, the faint dimples in her cheeks. 

And some wicked part of you is all too willing to ignore the whole timeline of events that has led up to you, Nana, like this: you want to pull her hair. You want to shove her around like she doesn't matter - is in any way disposable or replaceable; the most selfish parts of you wishing you could keep her pinned down by her slender neck; pressing a palm, bruising, into her collarbone as you start to work at your belt buckle and slacks with your other hand.

It's hard, getting a grip on yourself as Nana, sliding onto her bed and rolling across the sheets, pulls her stockings down the length of her legs - only stopping herself long enough to meet your eyes. Her throat bobbing.

“Of course,” she says, because your cock is hanging out by that point, straining and a little pent-up. "I fucking knew you would have a perfect cock."

"Flattery or sincerity?"

"Um, let's say both." She shifts around the pillow - that sweet little pout on her lips. Her gaze dropping from your mouth and running all along the length of your torso, lower and lower. Like her hands. And when her eyes flick up to meet yours, just when you're stroking at your cock, base and shaft, teasing yourself, well past the point of pretense, a devious smile spreads wide across her pretty, beautiful face. The implication: you aren't leaving here until you're cumming inside her.

And with a glimmer in her eyes, the sheer audacity, her fingertips ghost the underside of your cock as she draws up toward the head, "you're going to ruin me with this thing. You know that right?"

"A bit dramatic."

Nana moves to rest with the tops of her knees at the edge, her chin resting against the insides of her wrists, elbows propped up - poised, playful, everything she should be as the both of you regard each other a moment longer. "Can you blame me? It's not just that it's huge, I mean - I've barely even gotten a hold of it, and yet... god," she snorts. Her eyelids are heavy, mouth curved, almost a snarl as she drags her bottom lip through the grip of her teeth and sinks down onto the mattress.

"Say something filthy again," and this is a test, this is Nana testing you to see what exactly you'll get away with.

(Hint: it's a whole lot.)

She sighs. The image of indigence, innocence, everything pure and good you couldn't hope for. "Should I suck it or not? Or maybe, I don't know. Would you prefer me to beg for it first, ask if you'll put it in? Like, I think if you ordered me to put it in my mouth, right now, I wouldn't be able to say no."

"Really," the most sarcastic answer.

"Really," she continues. "For instance. If you came over here right now and guided me up and onto your dick and told me, specifically, that you were going to face-fuck me? I couldn't say no. No sir."

You could have her any damn way. You could have her, and you both know it.

"So tempting," you tease, mostly in earnest, "maybe another time, when my self-control isn't quite so lacking."

Nana hums a low, flippant sort of noise - like: whenever you're ready - and just how much trouble it gets you in, the mere suggestion, is what she is banking on.

"Hey," is her invitation, "I won't beg yet. You still want me to put my mouth all over it," and to emphasize, she slips her fingers between the plump pillows of her lips, smiling at how that makes you reach over the nightstand, accidentally pulling open a drawer, possibly reaching for the first aid kit, "or would you rather watch me stuff all these fingers in my wet, little hole."

A sharp inhale: it really would be fun, probably, but you can't take it.

"Nana," this voice, gravelly-ragged and harsh, "if you're planning to make me snap, you are, without question, on the right track."

"Then before that happens," she says, pulling you down into the bedsheets beside her. Your body flush against hers, the beat of her heart loud against your own; this gorgeous, pristine girl, so nakedly giving - this is an honor and a curse all rolled up together, no doubt.

And after a hot, wet kiss: "fuck me like I always thought you would."

(She was made to be like this; it's the only explanation.

Made for wanting. Made for fucking. Made to be loved and made to have her cunt fucked full - ruined by your fingers, your tongue, your cock. This absolutely perfect body, and all the delicious parts of her; this thing of desire, bashful and coy and that deserves all the world and, having none of the grace or courtesy to actually beg, orders, like she always knew she could:

"Like, right fucking now."

Or else.)

Then you're there - her hot mouth, her cunt, your fingers digging in bruising-tight all along the curve of her thighs where they meet her ass, hips, thighs, waist. She's pumping her soft palm and delicate fingers, slick with her spit and yours around the length of you and this isn't going to last long; not that there's any doubt you're going to leave her sore. But still, you drag the head of your cock across the swollen lips of her pussy, down through the plump swell of her clit until it rests where the ridge just begins and every slide, every pressure along every inch of your cock, the thought of being enveloped entirely in all that silky warmth is nearly the end of you.

A whimper, "professor."

You wrap your hands tighter around the smooth, firm muscles in her thighs; dragging your fingers back and forth across the supple skin there - just firm enough to elicit a reaction from the tension in her legs, until you have her flipped over on her stomach. Because if you're going to fuck her properly, it's going to be with her face buried deep into a pillowcase and you perched above her, holding her down against the sheets.

You watch her get her elbows underneath her, laying almost flat. Watch her trace the shape of her own jaw, her nose, her neck - the smooth expanse of her chest - as you straddle her thighs. With her ass pointed right up at you and the heel of her ankle gently grinding into the underside of your leg, you groan, placing both hands just above her ass. And once you're gripping the whole shape of her, you push your cock into her, just an inch, listening to the shift in her breathing.

She shudders, "don't tease - oh, please, sir-"

"Is this what you expected, Nana?" You grab onto her hair. Then again, when she tries to get her hands on herself. Her shoulders are high, tight. You just don't give her a chance; pushing yourself another inch, a couple. The pace, so gradual she starts making these soft, little breathless sounds as you stretch her tight pussy open. A few moments when she stops trying to bury her noises, her gasps - stops trying to angle her hips or squeeze or resist the thick shape of your cock where it is so, so hot and full inside of her - and there you stop. "What is it you had in mind, hm?"

"Ngh - oh."

Her cunt's clamping tight around just the first few inches of you. The tightness, the wet heat is staggering; how it pulls and begs with the words she seems reluctant to spill out.

So - you lift a hand, bringing it back down again onto the pale, rounded flesh of her ass with a smack, a gasp, and this wet sound from the sopping heat of her pussy, all aching and sobbing, "don't, fuck, stick it - fuck, put it - just. Just fucking get on top of me and pin me down - make it hard for me to breathe - do it, just. Like I, fuck, like I always wanted, sir, please-"

And you sink all the way in.

"Fuck." She bites into those consonants, a whole-body motion that pulls at the tension in her spine, the muscles in her legs. But her hips angle right up, and she presses her ass into the hollow of your abdomen and says, "thank you. Thank you. God."

"Don't get lazy on me," you say, grinding the tip of your cock in little circles; pulling it out and angling it down until it's prodding at all the right places to make her arch and shiver.

"Please," she says again, louder this time, almost a moan. "That. Fuck. Yes. It's."

"Yes, yes, I know. Nana, you-"

"Just use me. Whatever you like," she pants; then, once you've pulled yourself out to the tip, slowly filling her again, "use me like a fucktoy, alright. Because - fuck," Nana shivers, pushing her hips into yours. Her shoulders lower, as if by degrees, "please. Use me. Make it rough. Please, professor - use me however you want, I don't care - anything's fine with me - use me, as long and as much as you need, I. Please."

The real difference here, beyond anything else, is that this is no longer the game it was; the very instant she was sprawled across the mattress with a line of drool dripping into the sheets, all her bright, polished glory has vanished, leaving this bare edge of her exposed - the girl who lives solely to be fucked and used by your cock, her cunt leaking, begging for more. Reduced to the basics and nothing else.

"Your fucking cunt, Nana, the goddamn clench - you feel - it's-" (So fucking good, is what you can’t quite say, because she’s tight and wet and her tiny pussy is quivering like mad every time you bathe your cock in its scorching heat. Over and over.) It’s hard to think; you’re truly - truly - fucking her, but you can’t ignore the tautness in her spine either, bent below you. There are probably tears beading down her cheeks, but there's no helping the raw instinct screaming through the core of her being, pleading with you to pull yourself free, before sinking hilt-deep into her again, again, again - to a chorus of sloppy, loud, nasty, fucking whimpers and moans.

Like music. 

It's easy after all, how her pussy gives way to you. How she molds around you - sleeves onto you like a glove - like there was only one cunt in the world you should ever be fucking up and fucking apart. 

"It's incredible. Fuck. Just that perfect."

Nana, as best as she can, trying to stay steady, braced against her hands and knees, is raising her hips.

But it's clear with the way she's slipping all over, slicking the sweat off her palms and rocking her ass back into your thrusts, a cry falling out of her, unbidden, when she speaks and not.

"Please," she pants, through tears probably, this breathy-shivering. A renewed enthusiasm for your grip on her - where, in another place, you'd worry about leaving marks behind - for the feeling of your weight slamming down into her, driving the air from her lungs.

The sheets are a crumpled mess, pillows knocked from the mattress, where the two of you are shaking it apart.

You're pulling her apart, slowly, thrust by thrust into her sopping cunt, and in a promise of how you'll put her back together, you get your mouth on her shoulders, her neck, kisses in her hair, behind her ear - Nana just whimpers, curling her toes and ankles along the backs of your knees, her face against the pillow and gasping, "thank you - thank - thank-"

And when your palm smacks against the generous swell of her ass, again, she keens so perfectly for you.

It's a breathtaking sight, so good, so perfect: her flawless ass pitched high, round and flushed pink. The flutter of her eyelashes and the tears and drool. The outlines of her pale white cheeks sent into ripple after ripple, and then the way you can slide one hand forward between her shoulder blades and slip it into her hair, nails raking her scalp, grabbing a handful of hair in your fist and tilting her face - to the side, enough for her cheek against the pillow and the way her hips try to press against yours; try to chase the pleasure; this brash, gorgeous, slim-waisted, well-curved, exquisite young woman - like everything.

"Please," is all she says as you fit your chest up tight to her back and mouth at her neck - lick all along the sweat. "Please."

You can't take it anymore, can't keep watching this masterpiece, can't stand the molten heat wrapped around your cock every time the drag in and out of her pussy pulls sets every nerve on fire. Right in her ear: "I'm cumming, Nana, I'm cumming inside this tight, little pussy."

A short gasp, "yeah."

"Yeah. Inside, Nana. Cum inside, you -" You twist your fingers against her scalp and find purchase, an excuse - a means to yank her head around and lean into her, teeth against skin, that familiar coiling in your gut and the burning sensation that flows right alongside every slap and smack of her hips on your skin.

"Fuck me." You watch her bite down, swallow a sound, try to say: "fuck your load so deep inside me it’ll be all I think about for weeks, let me feel it, all that hot, all that sticky, fucking cum"

And you drag your hips, these final, punishing drags through her drenched cunt. Her fingers are white knuckled and fisting the sheets, until the very second you've pressed every ounce of your own body's worth into her own, when you're collapsing her spine and pushing her face into the bedspread, this wave rushes through your ears like the buzz and hum of insects and waves and things out of sync - the high, the peak -

And then:

Sobering, subjugating silence.

In fact, you're shuddering; You're cumming, spilling pools of thick cum deep inside of her. It's all in that warm, filthy sensation, a heady, hazy, desperate thrill when her own cunt seizes in its climax around you, trembling, throbbing, quivering, clenching; drawing everything out and taking your cock deeper - even while the whole of her is thrashing and bucking, all of this messy with her pleasure and her voice caught up, writhing and breathless.

"God-" is the last thing out of her mouth before you can kiss it quiet, tug on her lower lip and open her up like a present - messy and breathy, crying out, you're making this mess inside, this beautiful fucking mess - as the whisper you feel against your lips:

"Inside me, like that."

As you groan, deep and hot, "filthy fucking cumslut-"

Right on the verge, riding out every twitch of your cock and each flex of your hands at the skin around her ass, her waist, back and shoulder blades; even after you've caught your breath, you keep pumping more and more inside of her, you don't stop, won't, and even when you manage it, pulling out the head of your cock - you can feel every slick detail - just the slit and rim, resting the throbbing head of your cock at her swollen little mound, feeling the length of her fucked-out pussy spasm at the emptiness and trying to grasp around nothing - empty, tight and aching, sopping.

There's her hips, just this, right there; the line, the silhouette. Her thin waist and the curvy swell of her ass, jutting out straight - the cream-colored flesh dusted pink. The lithe, soft line of her stomach and the insides of her thighs a little farther along, sweaty and inviting.

She's so pliant in your grip, even though she's trying her best to curl herself backward - to angle your spent cock back into the ready, welcoming warmth of her slick, wet pussy - and once the afterglow has begun to wear away, that same greed and yearning takes its rightful place. A glimmer in her eyes. The unmistakable need and drive.

"One more," she says, wiggling her hips back into your stomach. "For me."

(The truth: you can't refuse her, not as she bites her lip and twists, all that soft hair splayed across her face, stuck to her tear-damp skin.

One more, because you both still want it. One more, because in the dim glow and evening air of her bedroom, everything that happens now matters just as much as anything that happened before.

One more, because you need her again.)

-

When she wakes in the dark, you figure her bed will be empty.

Nana will realize that you're gone. Of course you’ll be - it was never going to go differently; the sex had to end at some point. After all, if you stayed, eventually she'd start saying something you'd find a fault in or your skin would be so sensitive she couldn't stand not running a finger up your spine and maybe kissing your hip.

The reasons to go always outnumbered the reasons to stay.

The world would catch up and someone would find out and that's the sort of gossip that might leave both of your careers in shambles. Or else, you'd do something you couldn't come back from, the moment the heat of the sex left your body and her cunt, god, her perfect little cunt was spent - slackening - and the moments-after-haze, her legs locked up and her arms a bit sore, would clear up. Then you'd look at her, or else the shame would win out - the guilt and you'd call it quits. She won’t blame you. She can't.

-

But then again,

Her heart won't fall completely to pieces, because:

You've stayed. And it isn't an easy position, even if she is easy.

Here she is, though: sleeping on her side with her wrists crossed in front of her face - peaceful and quiet, probably tired enough to sleep without dreams. The dark has long since settled across her bedroom, save the pinpricks of stars in the sky out her window and a sliver of moonlight. You can see her, or you could reach out and run your hands all along her calves and thighs, but you don't.

Nana's shoulders slump forward in the faintest of sighs, and there it is - the slow, gentle swell and fall of her chest.

-

Here's how you got here:

In this scandal-in-waiting of a relationship. Here's the stupidest possible path, where a bright-eyed student with a crush fucks her older professor just once, and somehow you both find yourselves coming back for more, like maybe your very, very bodies belong together - a maddening compulsion.

Even once you've managed to work through the idea of your cum all inside of her, a seedy, twisted corner of your mind murmurs how it makes the most sense. To stick your cock inside of her again.

Where she can show you the way it can look; the mess and the texture of the slick, white spill - dribbling out of her pussy in the afterglow, onto her palm, and down the crevice in her ass and lower.

It's the phone calls probably - and not just the phone sex - late-night talking, conversation and every once in awhile, the kind of hot, hard fucking that gets you in trouble, but also a reason to be with each other again. Not just the quick fucks but the nice ones - the days, the late nights and mornings and what have you: all the casual intimacy of it. All the sweet nothings exchanged.

The after-sex cuddling, with her straddling your lap;

The sensation of her thighs sliding into place around the tops of your legs, her arms tucked around your neck;

The kisses you don't take and kisses you'd be okay with, all the promises made to love you as many times as necessary, however necessary, wherever.

That's all here too.

Again:

She is young. But, who the fuck are you to say? Who the hell can tell you she doesn't deserve the least rotten, least painful, most promising love she can find in this particularly fucked-up world?

Who else is going to keep the both of you safe and hidden?

And who else, despite everything, seems to like having a secret that they're sure only you know; every glance or accidental touch with her eyes brimming, alive, and the whole of her bent like a bow-string - all held back and wound-up tight.

To the point her spine will shiver and shake; you know how it can be.

-

"Are you actually going to buy those?" Nana asks one day, dangling on her toes, chin rested comfortably in the sweep of your shoulder.

When she crowds the swell of her hip and her breasts and her entire body into your back and snakes her arms around your shoulders, you think there's nothing else in the world you need.

"You called them drivel," she adds, almost pouting - which is a look you're slowly trying to inoculate yourself against because the moment it comes up, you have a knee-jerk reaction to drop anything and everything and carry her off someplace else. To have a place where she could, could, could -

"Hah," you roll your eyes, not taking the bait. There's a shelf-full of campy, smutty romance novels in the dollar bin. "It is. The story was less than complicated, but I couldn't figure out what the hell two or three characters' plotlines had to do with one another, and sometimes you just want a little guilty pleasure, you know?"

"Ooh. So," Nana smiles, the devious sort. "I guess there is some honesty in you after all."

"Come on, this one at least has an original story," and it is a shameless attempt, "plus-"

"I know, I know. Fine. And if it is so terribly bad, well, I suppose I can use your chest as a pillow to take a nap," she says, before throwing this particular glance over her shoulder.

The cashier doesn't need to ask if the two of you want your copies of 'Wild West of the Heart' or whatever-the-fuck this one is titled, scanned separately.

All of that, those paperback-cover love stories and TV drama plots, these are the sorts of things you do just for Nana; as the two of you wait in long lines, get carried along, get bumped and pushed, like every other ordinary-person thing you've done for her ever since.

("Honestly, this isn't my kind of thing either," you tell her in the aisle of a grocery store once. The fluorescent lighting only accentuates the blush high on her cheeks. "don't make me fuss over something like this."

"Have a little sympathy," she insists, nudging the handle of the shopping cart against the inside of your shins. "A girl like me isn't good for much else.")

It's not romance, really, that's such a fucked up way to go about describing any of it, but then there's Nana, bouncing on her heels and prattling on, this girl in the spring of her life who is full to the brim and bursting with the most chaotic and eclectic sorts of thoughts and passions -

So, what.

"Really," she adds - another side, another angle on an issue the two of you had an hour ago while cooking breakfast. "Just, think about it. Would you honestly put all this effort into somebody who doesn't make you laugh at least as much as they irritate you? Because like, you would never tolerate some self-obsessed jerk long enough to eat their burnt, terrible pancakes every day of the week."

"Fine. Maybe." You sit across the table. "You're right."

Nana blinks and this look of wonder crosses her face as she grins. A moment of triumph for her and that was more than the honest truth. It's still strange, admitting defeat in any argument here or there, or that the two of you make an actual decent couple - together. The kinds of things that come naturally to other people.

"Any more caveats to all of this, professor?"

"You’re gonna end up bent over that counter again if you keep pushing it, kid."

The both of you break out laughing and then you finish your coffee, or she stabs the last few pieces of cantaloupe on her plate, or you kiss her neck, and just -

Everything.

[agirlandhersweetdelusions]

Mermaid who is infatuated with your legs and wants to be in between them. The encounter is by chance, but it ends in something deeper than friendship. 🌊

Feminine Reader x Mermaid

CW: Smut | Some Horror | Mentions of Drowning | No death

"C'mon don't be a baby," Noah said. His tone indicated that he was joking, but you knew well enough that deep down, he hoped you would swim in Lake Lost at night.

"Leave her alone. You know she's not down for things like that," Mira hissed in his direction.

Mira had been your best friend since high school. She knew what you liked, didn't like, and downright hated. Which made it all the more surprising when she started going out with Noah years later.

Noah had always been an ass. He spent a majority of 11th grade in detention, and a majority of college skipped class from being too hungover. In your opinion, Mira was too good for him. It was an inside joke that if she were into girls that you would treat her way better.

You sighed. "If only," you thought to yourself.

The water seemed to have an electric hum to it tonight, and the closer you walked to the edge of the dock, the louder it got.

"Do you guys feel that?" You asked, turning to face your two friends. Of course they didn't because they were too busy making out. Again.

You cleared your throat.

"Earth to horny. Can you hear me? I am standing right here, you know."

Pulling away from Noah, Mira's eyes widened and she bit her lower lip. Embarrassed looked cute on her.

Noah, however, wore embarrassment about as well as he would wear anything. Proudly and way too loud for your liking.

"What can I say," he pulled Mira back to his chest. "She's hot," he finished with an annunciation on the "t".

"At least go back to the car so I don't have to watch," you sneered. Clearly, you were the least important thing here.

"No! This is supposed to be our little reunion before the wedding," Mira's eyes dropped as she tried to step towards you. Ah, right. The wedding. You were going to be Mira's maid of honor next week.

None of it felt real. The wedding. College graduation. Hell, even life itself felt strange these days. It's as if everything you knew turned inside out over night, and nobody else felt the difference but you.

You took a deep breath.

"I can always jump in the lake some other time," you faked a half smile.

"Besides. I'm sure you two would like to make one last memory here before becoming," you swallowed, "husband and wife."

Mira turned her head. What her eyes fixated on, you couldn't quite tell. The only thing apparent is that she'd rather look anywhere but at her so-called best friend.

"Well," Noah said breaking the tension.

"Maybe she's right. We can always go for some new memories." He wiggled his eyebrows and Mira's shoulders eased. Your stomach lurched in a pattern with the waves behind you.

"If you're sure -" Mira began.

"I'm sure. Go. I'll be here. I - I missed Lake Lost."

"Really?" They said in unison, brows furrowed.

"Yeah. You know, I love lore and mysteries. What is Lake Lost besides one big mystery. All those bodies are still missing. Surely, it was from boating accidents or drowning, but still. You guys deserve some privacy."

Mira's gaze leveled with yours. Her eyes, a coppery brown, finally showed signs of softening.

You were getting comfortable under the heat of her eyes when Noah swept her off of her feet. Literally.

"Let's go, future Mrs. Scobolt."

With that, they were disappearing in heaps of laughter back towards the car. It wasn't quite that far from the dock, but Mira suggested parking at the entrance in case anyone showed up.

Technically, the park closed at sunset which was 2 hours ago, but when you saw the sign from the backseat of the car, you got a little excited.

Mira hadn't been wrong. You guys used to spend every evening here in the summer. It was where you learned to swim, where Mira caught a baby crab, where a pelican stole your shoe, and where you and Mira kissed.

These waters have seen everything and more. Much more.

Your spine ran cold in the July heat at the thought of the deaths. They had explanations for all of them, but it was eerie how they all occurred at night. Who would go boating at night? The lake is closed!

Then again, here you were. You looked back towards the car, but a thick fog had begun to roll off of the restless waters. You couldn't see more than 200 feet around you in any direction. It was as if a cloud had swallowed you in the time you were thinking.

Going back to the car was still an option, but the mental image of Mira being pounded into by Noah set off a dozen alarms in your head.

Her head rolling back, his hands on her hips.

No. You'd stay at the dock until you were sure that whatever they were doing was over.

Cementing the idea in your head, you say down at the edge of the wooden structure. The water reminded you of the midnight sky, an abyss that had no end. Yet, the clinginess of your shirt to your skin meant that the humidity was only rising.

You decided to soak your feet in the water, and as your legs made contact with the coolness of the lake, a happy sigh escaped your lips.

A few minutes pass of you relaxing on your forearms, feet gently swaying in the lake. You watched the ripples from your moments with hooded eyes.

"I can see how people fall asleep out here," you think whilst fighting back a yawn.

The rustle of leaves in the summer breeze, the chirp of bullfrogs, the increasing bubble of the water - wait.

You sit up, fully alert and eyes wide. The bubbles are concentrated in one area, but they're quickly moving closer to you.

Whipping your head to the car, you open your mouth to call for help. The problem is that nothing comes out. You're stuck.

It's as if you've been submerged in ice. A chill coats your bones, freezing you in place. Your mind races onward, begging your legs to rise from the water.

The circle of erratic lake closes in and as the bubbles reach the edge of your legs, you come to your senses.

But it's too late.

The summer air is warm, but the spot of the lake where you're pulled into is warmer. Water floods your vision and you find yourself flailing, gripping as nothing as you are pulled down into an ombre of darker blues.

You can't see what's grabbed you, nor do you care. Why does it feel like a hand? That doesn't matter, you begin to kick with the hope of striking anything.

The murky water is quickly filling your lungs, and your ability to struggle is growing weak. A blackness eats at the edge of your vision, and dizziness begins to set in.

"Mira!" You try to scream, but it comes out in a slew of air bubbles that only floods your lungs quicker.

You give one more kick, stronger than the rest. You feel your heel connect with a mass. Suddenly, you're free. You slowly make your way to the surface, fighting the urge to pass out.

"Fuck," you gasp in a voice that sounds unlike your own. Coughing and sputtering, water spews from your body, and you grab onto the wooden base of the dock for support.

"What on earth was -," you stop when you hear the familiar rumble of hot water. The bubbles. They've come back, and they're racing towards you.

With no time or energy to pull yourself onto the dock, you wait - panting, for whatever the creature is to take you again.

Maybe it's for the best? You weren't exactly happy with your life before, and it's not like Mira would miss you at this point.

Just as you've resigned to becoming fish food, the creature begins to show itself. First, a black spot appears on the surface. Then, as it rises, you're frozen to the spot by icy white eyes with thick lashes of the same hue.

It's a woman. No? It's - what is she? Her eyes are huge and nearly human minus the color, but her skin is a milky blue. She's beautiful albeit definitely not human.

"Are those," your voice trembles, and you reach a shaky hand up towards her face.

The woman - thing, tilts her head. She doesn't move from your touch. Instead, you made contact with her skin. It's ice cold, and your suspicion was correct. She has gills.

Lost in a sea of thoughts, you hardly realize that you'd begun to stroke her skin.

"What -" her voice startles you back to the present. It is dreamy and quiet with a lilt that has you mesmerized.

"What are you?" She asks. Her eyes are wider than yours, but while you're staring at her face, she has taken a liking to staring at your chest.

The look on her face isn't at all displeased, and a heat trickles down your neck. As if on cue, her eyes snap to yours. She waits for you to respond.

"Oh, um. I'm a human. I'm a woman."

"Human? Woman?" Her head is still tilted, so you continue.

"Yeah. A human. I live up there," you point towards the land and her eyes follow. She blinks a few times before looking down into the water.

"And what are those?"

"What are what?" You look down to see what caught her attention, but instead of finding the source of her curiosity, you stir up your own.

A tail. She has a tail. Her human form ends at her bellybutton, and from there blooms a tail that glitters in sparks of white and lavender beneath the dark surface.

"Mermaid" you whisper under your breath.

Apparently, you did not answer the mermaid's question fast enough because you feel her looming over you before you see her.

Her chest comes into view, and you're forced to look up to meet her eyes once more. You bite your lip to avoid smiling at how gorgeous she is.

She chuckles, emitting a sound like tinkering bells and you feel a webbed palm on your thigh.

A panicked yelp slips from your lips before you register what happened.

"I apologize!" The mermaid responds.

"I did not know that your tails were so sensitive. I should have asked first."

Tails? She thinks you have tails? You look down at your legs, then back up at her. She's shrunken into herself, embarrassed at what she thinks may have hurt you.

"No. No no no," you begin to laugh.

"These are my legs," you swim around her in a small circle.

"They help me to swim, walk, and run. They're kind of important. I guess they are to me what your tail is to you."

You don't know why you've become so animated, but seeing the mermaid smile at your explanation has your heart picking up it's pace.

"By the way," you can't stop talking. You've tried, but the words keep flooding out.

"Why did the water bubble when you came? Also, why did you try to drown me?"

She blinks again, narrowing her eyes.

"Drown you? I - I thought you could swim like me? Are you not able to breathe water for long?"

"I can't breathe water at all. I have no gills. Human."

"Huh," she looks off to the side.

"Perhaps that is why those other humans did not last very long with me. I only wanted to study their two tails, but by the time I took them back to my shell cave, they did not want to talk to me."

Your stomach lurches again. She's the reason Lake Lost is called Lake Lost, and she has no idea what she's even done.

"So - So you only wanted to look at their legs? You drowned those people by accident?"

Recognition hits the mermaid like a wave. She spins around, scaled fingers over her mouth.

"I took their lives. Oh goodness, I drowned them!"

She did, and she should probably feel bad about it, but watching her tail flap in distress was not only upsetting you, but it was causing some bigger waves to form in the lake. You could swim, but you weren't sure if you could survive a tsunami.

You swim to her, placing a hand on her back.

"Warm," she turns to you, claimed.

"You are warm."

"Yes. I am. It's human blood. If I'm not warm, then I'll die."

She giggles at your factual explanation.

"You're very interesting. I still feel remorse for the humans that I hurt. I didn't mean to. I promise," she looks at you pleadingly.

"I know you didn't, and if it makes you feel better you can study my legs," the end of your sentence comes out as more of a question. You can't believe you just said that. What if she tries to rip your legs off?

Still, she's stunning. The moon is in its crescent phase, casting a dim shadow over the lake. Her dark hair has a faint light to it, and her white eyes look pearlescent. You could study her for hours, but her lack of shirt deters you as you don't want to make her uncomfortable.

She, on the other hand, has no problem with taking all of you in. Her claim is that she wants to study your legs, but every time you look away, her eyes flutter back to your chest, your lips.

Her hand twitches, and she claps both of them together in front of her.

"I would like that. Thank you," she smiles, and you shiver again at her teeth. They're razor sharp. She could kill you with one bite.

Not that she would. In fact, what happens next surprises you. Grabbing onto the dock, you begin to hoist yourself from the water without much success. Your hands are too wet to get a decent grip.

Sinking back into the water for the second time, you let out a frustrated huff.

Without warning, you feel a pair of icy cold hands gripping your hips, and a torso pressing itself to your back.

Staring into those white irises, she doesn't break your gaze and she lifts you onto the dock, setting you down gently.

You open your mouth to speak, but she beats you to it.

"You are welcome, human." A light blue creeps onto her neck and cheeks.

"What is it that fascinates you about legs? I know you don't have them, but they must look awfully funny to you from beneath the lake's surface."

"They do, but that is why I like them. They are something new. I have had this tail since I was young. It no longer interests me."

The mermaid takes pause, and her eyes scan you over again.

She continues, "Humans are different. Your anatomy is more complex. There are parts that do different things. I have heard many stories about your kind."

"Really? From who?"

"Fish that get set free, my sisters who used to watch humans from a distance. They say that if you make a human very happy, then something good happens. They called it "the cry".

Now it's your turn to be confused.

"Crying is usually not a good thing when humans do it. At least, in my experience. Though, I've not had many joyous occasions to cry over," you avoid her piecing eyes.

"No. It is not a sad cry. It is one that happens when you touch the spots between a human's legs."

She speaks in a voice that edges with excitement. You inch closer towards her at the edge of the dock until your legs brush her chest.

"Do you - are you saying that you want to do that? You want to have sex with a human?"

She laughs again, "Yes. I want to know everything about you. How your legs feel when I wrap them around my waist, how the -"

"What?"

"What would you like me to call your sensitive place, sweet human?"

"Well it's -" you snort out a laugh. You can't believe this is happening.

"Most people refer to it as a pussy, but you can use whatever word you see fit,"

"May I take a look at it?" she asks, moving forward to close any space between the two of you.

"And while I'm at it," she maneuvers your legs so that they rest on her hips, stroking them with her palms. You expected more scales, but her palms are completely smooth.

Leaning towards you until her nose nearly brushed yours, she whispers, "is this ok?"

You nod eagerly as words fail you again.

"Gosh, your legs are so cute. It's like they were made to hold people - or merpeople between them," she looks down, admiring the connection of your limbs and her body.

"Human."

"Hm?"

"I asked you earlier, but I think you were too distracted. May I see your pretty, sensitive areas?"

You think for a moment.

"Only if you promise that you'll greet them with a kiss."

Her eyes beam, a faint white glow added to their usual milkiness. A high pitched purr rumbles from somewhere within her throat, and she smiled, barring all of her teeth.

You lifted yourself enough that she could pull off your bottoms, but she protested the action.

"Human. I think you misunderstand my kindness. Please, do as I ask like an obedient creature."

Your ass hit the dock with a thump. Why on earth were you listening to her willingly? Is she using magic?

You didn't have to ponder because with a airy whisper of the word, "lift" you found yourself rising again for her to do exactly what you tried to help her with.

"Good girl," she mumbled.

And it was if your head no longer existed for the second she saw pussy, she was in a trance. She sunk into the water, leveling her gaze with your cunt. Her eyes reflecting no trace of what she saw, yet you could feel the wind rolling onto your clit.

You were wet, and she loved nothing more in the world than water.

"Pretty," she said breathlessly, still moving closer until her lips were centimeters from your clit.

"Is this it, sweet human?"

You knew she meant your clit. You could feel her cold breath chilling you from the outside, in.

"Yes, miss," you tested the nickname.

She made no sudden movement and to say, "What a polite pearl you are."

That must've been her last thought, too because after that you felt bliss. Short kisses were being peppered onto your folds.

She was working her way down to your entrance, teasing your hole with her double pointed tongue before she spread her affection to your inner thighs.

Your hand reached out, resting lighting in her damp hair, and emitted another of those high-pitched whines.

You gripped her harder.

"Do not get greedy, human," she teased, lifting one of your legs from the water to kiss her way down to your ankle.

"If it is me you want, then I will give it to you with time."

Her movements never ceased, and within seconds she was back between your legs, lapping at your folds.

Delighted hums left you in waves, and with a shaking voice, you mumbled, "Clit. Please, suck on my clit."

"Silence," she whispered, shutting you up in an instant.

She obeyed nonetheless. Her lips wrapped around the bundle of nerves while her tongue continued its journey. It was clear that she was being extra careful not to nip you with her teeth, but the tentative behavior only made you want more.

You began to pant, grinding your hips onto her face. Her eyes fluttered open unbeknownst to you, and while she continued to sail you towards an orgasm, one of her eyes bled into an inky blue.

Her efforts ceased, and your eyes opened immediately. It wasn't like you to outwardly pout, but the loss of contact had your lower lip trembling.

When you noticed her eyes, you felt like crying for an entirely different reason.

"Are you alright?" You said breathlessly.

She did not respond.

Her hands gripped your legs in a bruising fashion, and she yanked you into the lake once more.

Instead of drowning, you found yourself being held to her bare chest. She was looking down at you expectantly.

"I want to know what you're feeling, sweet pet."

Her tone was like molasses. Sticky and sultry. You were lost in her, and her gaze did not move from you.

Securing you in her arms, her tail found a home between your legs. As she positioned herself, a few of her scales glided across your cunt, and you moaned into her chest.

A breath was let out by her, and a strangled groan followed.

"Did you - did you feel that?" You searched her neverending pupils for signs of pleasure.

"A mermaid's tail is much more than a vice for swimming, pet. I can feel every contraction, every throb of your pretty pearl. I love it."

She closed her eyes, hugging you tightly while her tail moved back and forth against you. Every few seconds she would go farther out with her movements so that a stray scale would make contact with your clit.

It was as if you were grinding on her except she was holding you, suspended in the foggy lake.

"Miss, please. More. Need more," you begged.

Her tail moved faster. Meanwhile, her lips found yours, kissing you harshly as if to keep you quiet.

Your tongues found each other, swirling before she plunged hers into your mouth. You sucked on it eagerly, moaning into her mouth as your wetness coated her scaled.

Her heartbeat was increasing, and you were a mess.

"Pet, I am not going to last much longer. Use those pretty legs to move yourself on me. Let us finish together."

She loosened her arms. You used the opportunity to place your hands on her abdomen, grinding yourself faster against her.

"Such a good pet," is all you heard amongst the splashing of the water. The bubbles had returned, and steam rose into the air. You felt the nerves in your pussy throbbing, and you knew that she could feel it, too.

"Let it out, sweet human. Finish for me," she cooed into your ear.

Your legs trembled, and you nearly gave out onto her as your orgasm crashed onto you. Your hand groped her breast, and she placed a shaking palm over yours.

Her tail vibrated, and you heard faint a whimper and whines as she gasped for air. She had cum.

"Keep going. Keep moving. I am almost done," she begged, rocking you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of warmth and wet kisses, you both regained your breathing.

A tail and a set of legs stay intertwined in the sway of the waves, and she guided your hand up towards the moonlight.

The two of you stayed that way, enjoying the frog symphony and the crickets hum. Drifting to the center of the lake as you lay on her belly, watching as her webbed fingers toyed with yours.

"Thank you, sweet human," she said after a while.

You felt like you should be thanking her. After everything that's been happening to you, you finally felt real. You had been seen for the first time in a long time.

"If it is not too much to ask, may I see you again? I am sure there are many more parts of you that I could learn from."

You smiled to yourself.

"As long as I can learn from you as well. I'm sure you've got a ton of stories to tell."

She laughed. You were prepared to ask her about her family, but the familiar sound of tires on asphalt made you both freeze.

Mira and Noah. You had forgotten.

You felt your new companions heartbeat race. Turning to her, you took her cheeks in your hands.

"They're good people, but I understand why you might not want to be seen. I'll come back again tomorrow. This time, I'll bring you a gift."

"A gift?"

"Mhm. Something that you can keep or take to your sisters to show them,"

A few clicks sounded from her throat, and she pressed her forehead to yours.

"Fine, but take care of these legs, sweet human. I do like them very much."

She swam towards the dock with you on her back, shifting to set you on the wooden structure unharmed.

With a wink, she dove into the abyss of Lake Lost, and you heard Mira in the distance.

"Hey! Are you ready to go? Noah saw a park ranger coming this way."

Shit.

"Yeah! I'm coming," you glanced back at the lake, and a shimmer of lavender twinkled not so far away.

"Tomorrow" you thought to yourself.

You could look forward to tomorrow.

[daenysx]

hi I can’t stop thinking about an aemond fic with his girl graduating university. I graduated today and can’t stop thinking about how supportive your modern aemond would be!!

thank you for requesting, angel! i'm sorry, this is a bit short but i hope you enjoy, congratulations!! requests are open

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader ♡

aemond watches you take your make up off as he does every night.

this time, it's a bit different. the hour is later than usual, you are a little tipsy because of the celebration drinks but you insist on completing your skin care routine. he lays in bed, his eye following your movements in the little bathroom attached to his bedroom. you give him a smile when your eyes meet, he likes being the person you smile at night.

you apply your night cream on your clean face and turn off the lights as you leave the bathroom. aemond adores how your face looks without any make up on, he likes it either way but your clean face reminds him how safe you feel with him. you trust him enough to create a night time routine with him, it's so nice to be the person you sleep and wake up next to. he opens his arms, you willingly lay next to him, your head on his chest and your arm wrapped around his waist.

"you don't have classes tomorrow." he says. "how does that feel?"

you sigh, nuzzling closer. "it's so weird. i don't think i ever remember a time when i don't continue studying after summer."

"you'll get used to it." he graduated three years ago. "and you can always continue studying if you want."

"i feel free." you say. "and i'm kinda proud of myself. i mean at some point it was really hard like it's never gonna end."

aemond is proud of you. so proud, he can still remember how his posture got straighter the moment you finally graduated. he is the person who has been with you all the time when you were studying, when you were crying because of your papers, when you were finding out about your grades and celebrating them. now, it's all over. you finished another important part of your life and he is one of the main characters. such a nice feeling, he thinks.

"i totally remember that point." he smirks. he does remember the time of your final week during your last semester at uni. it's safe to say he won't let you forget it either. it was a hectic week, you don't remember you ever studied harder in your life. one night, you were literally talking about your lecture notes in your sleep and aemond had the pleasure of learning your class.

"it happened once, aemond." you roll your eyes. "i can't control what i do when i sleep."

he changes your positions to be on top. he kisses your nose, your cheeks. he feels delightful tonight, you cup his cheeks to start a kiss that plays with his heartbeat. he brings his finger to your chin, tilts your head back for a deeper angle. you are both very tired but aemond thinks he can kiss you for an eternity. it makes him feel like he's the lead of one of those cheesy romcoms but he can't help himself.

"do you think it's gonna be okay?" you ask him, breaking the kiss. he knows you are nervous about what to do with your life now, university was hard but it had consistency. your every day was planned, routines were safe. right now, you need to build yourself a new life, it's a new chapter. beginnings are always scary.

"of course it's gonna be okay." he says, playing with your hair. "no matter what you decide to do, i'll be here."

"i think i'm afraid of stucking into a thing i'll hate and then never being able to change it."

he smiles, your pout has always been this cute. "trust me, sweetheart, you can change it. if you ever feel like you're stuck into something, i promise i'll help you with the change you want."

your pout turns into a smile. there she is, his brilliant girl. he kisses the corner of your lips fondly.

"i'm so proud of you." he says before kissing your forehead.

"thank you." your eyes are shining, you kiss him as a way of telling how much his words mean to you.

[haologram]

how to be a latin lover ♡ h.js (teaser)

♡ synopsis: the dreadful semester has started — meaning your summer vacation has come to end, and so has your summer fling…or has it? ♡ genre: summer fling au ; big dummy dumb idiots to lovers ; ta x student dynamics. ♡ pairing: spanish ta!joshua hong x chaebol!fem!reader | side pairings: lee chan x jung haerim (weki meki) ; wen junhui x lee saerom (fromis_9) ♡ word count: 2.4k | full fic: tba because i don't fucking know. ♡ rating: 18+. minors do not interact, i beg. ♡ warnings: honestly, a little toxic if you squint. lots of pining. hella slow burn. [official warnings: joshua and y/n are absolute idiots. i'm talking the dumbest mfs you've ever encountered, you'll want to scream at them through the screen.] ♡ what to listen to: otro atardecer - bad bunny, the marías ; get to you - mac ayres ; more to come.

Friday, September 16th.

It'd been a little more than a week since you met with Joshua in the library.

And since the two of you officially acknowledged that you'd slept together. What you didn't know was, while he was having his own feelings about the history that weighed the two of you down, he wasn't going to force you to return his affections. In fact…he even felt a bit silly, liking you so much off of three weeks of getting the full experience of…well, you.

Better yet, he wasn't even going to tell you there are any residual feelings on his end. If he knew anything, it was you and your type. If he came off too strong – flowers, a date, chocolates and the like, he'd scare you off even more. You were skittish, like a deer, and he had to either slowly gain your trust…

Or irritate the living hell out of you every chance he got.

Subtle flirting, double entendres, maybe the occasional lingering look. He knew that if he wanted a chance, and man did he want it – he was going to have to work for it. No problem, though. You were definitely worth the wait.

"So, as you can see, the proper conjugation is hablar, not hablando." His laser pointer is steady at the bottom of the projector screen, and he looks up to see half of the class staring intently and the other half jotting down notes. You were neither of the two – your head was resting on Chan's shoulder, eyes low. He cleared his throat, your head jumping up and a wince crossing your features.

Joshua knew Chan was really no threat. The fraternity really liked him, and he was set to move in this weekend. According to Chan's Instagram story, you'd been at his dorm the night before helping him pack up. Saerom had also been there, and Soonyoung – another Beta Tau member. You had been holding a can of Red Bull and in one of the following videos, you were shotgunning another.

"Any questions?" He calls out, and Haerim shoots her hand up. "Yes, Haerim?" "Since this is a conversational class, how would we ask someone out? Or, for their number?"

The classroom fills with childish snickering, and Joshua just smiles as he shakes his head. "Well, I-" "I don't think this is an appropriate question, to be honest." Your voice is heard from the back of the classroom, and Haerim turns in her chair, a wicked smile crossing her lips as Joshua rounds the desk, perched on the edge of it. "And why not, Y/N?" She asks, and Joshua can see you shift uncomfortably in your chair.

"This is Beginner Spanish Conversation, not Coffee Meets Bagel. Flirt on your own time, at your own pace." You scoff, and Haerim's smile only grows wider. It's like she knows something about you, and Joshua notices you begin to bristle slightly. "Why are you so uptight about it, Y/N? It's just a question." "I'm paying for this class, as is everyone else. I think I'd like to appreciate my money's worth by learning something I'll actually use." "Alright, ladies. Honestly, Miss Y/N is partially correct. This is not Café y Rosquilla, but I do think that this is…a learning moment. Asking someone out does involve conversation, you know." Joshua attempts to diffuse, but he can see your subtle annoyance at his siding with Haerim. "So, for example, if I wanted to ask out…" He looks around the room, before a flash of diablerie crosses his eyes. "If I wanted to ask out Miss Y/N, I'd have to make conversation. I'd say…eres muy bonita." "Yeah?! What else?!" You hear Myungjun shout from the far left side of the room, and you can feel Chan's knee bumping yours. You scowl at him, earning a smile as he hides in his hoodie. "I'd say…" Joshua scans your face, and he knows you're probably embarrassed. Embarrassed, but enjoying his subtle attention. He pushes off the desk, pacing in front of the students. "Hm, I'd probably say I like her dress, or me gusta tu vestido."

He watches you cross your legs, tucking the extra fabric of your black dress under your thighs. "Okay, but how do you ask her out!?" Haerim interrupts excitedly, and Joshua is on the first step of the stairs before he catches your eyes again.

"You don't just ask someone out flat out like that. You build repertoire, you make conversation." He rolls his eyes playfully, and you think you're about to get off without any further embarrassment when you hear Chan speak up next to you. "How much repertoire can you even build at this point? Psychology says it only takes two minutes to decide if you like someone." Joshua sees you gape at Chan, before pinching his bicep. Chan pouts in your direction, rubbing his arm as Joshua holds back a laugh. "Psychology also says that there are five components to figuring out if we will have a crush on someone. Physical attraction, proximity, similarity, reciprocity and familiarity. Miss Y/N is very pretty, so physical attraction is checked off. Proximity is also checked, as we see each other three times a week for this class." "What about similarity?" Myungjun pipes up again, making you sink lower in your seat. Joshua is enjoying making you squirm a bit, and he steps up a few more. "Hm, I think that's something I'd have to figure out. Tell me, Miss Y/N, do you enjoy…long walks on the beach?" Your eyes are full of fire, and you'd be almost scary if he didn't notice the way your lip wanted to twitch into a smile. Haerim shouts for you to answer the question, making you send her a scornful look – and she just sticks her tongue out at you like a child. "I do…enjoy long walks on the beach."

"What a coincidence, so do I! Now, we have a similarity. Miss Y/N is familiar, because again, I do see her quite often. Now, it's about reciprocation. This is when you ask the question, this is when you try and make a move." "Shua, how do we make the move!?" Chan asks, and you kick his shin, about to tell him to shut up when Joshua finally reaches your row. He's looking you dead in the eyes, his hand gently wrapping around the edge of your desk. He leans forward, and you can hear the stupid woo-ing of your classmates. "Señorita Y/N, ¿le gustaría salir conmigo?"

Somehow, this all feels like some stupid romcom for the both of you. The class is egging you both on, and Chan is next to you with the most idiotic smile you'd ever seen. You huff, the class is now chanting for you to agree to said…"fake" date.

"No." You say quietly, and Joshua feigns pain. He holds his hand to his heart, a pained expression on his face. "You wound me, Miss Y/N."

He turns to the class, all of which are giving you the dirtiest look ever. "Now, now. This was just an example, don't look at her like that." He scolds, and the class turns back to face the front as he barrels down the steps, checking his watch. 

"Shit, it's already ten past noon. You guys are free to go, and if any of you are taking Psych with Professor Seo Jungkwon, tell him I fulfilled his lecture for the day." This earns a laugh from the class, except you. You're angrily stuffing your laptop into your bag, the class eagerly exiting the room. Chan is holding your arm, apologizing most likely, but you don't seem like you want to hear any of it. By this point, Chan looks a bit like a kicked puppy as he quickly takes the steps down, with you following slowly behind him.

Chan is out the door by the time you make it to the last step, and the classroom is empty.

You arms are crossed as you approach the desk, where Joshua is quietly shutting down the projector. His eyes don't meet yours as he disconnects the machine from the wall, winding the cord up to tie together. "Y/N." He calls gently, and you huff angrily. He bites back a smile.

"Why do you insist on embarrassing me? The first week, it was you running your mouth to my best friend. Last week, you practically held Jeonghan at gunpoint to apologize to me. Today, it's putting me on blast in front of an entire classroom with people I will continue to see for the rest of the year."

"Oh? Was it embarrassing?" He's nonchalant as he looks up, tucking the wrapped cables behind the projector. Your eyes are narrowed, and it seems you've caught onto his little game. "Do you get off on this or something? Knowing you fucked one of your students?" "Hm, not necessarily. And none of what was done was done to embarrass you, per say. It's just decent honesty, and we both know you deserved an apology for Jeonghan's behavior." He states matter-of-factly, making you purse your lips. "What about your behavior? You asked me out in front of all these people!" You gesture to the empty room, and Joshua gives you a small smile. "And you rejected me in front of all of those people. The way I see it, it's a teaching moment."

He's on the same side of the desk as you now, resting against it as you complain. HIs smile seems to be getting under your skin, because you grab his shirt by the collar, pulling his face close to yours before you speak through gritted teeth. "Use someone else as your stupid guinea pig. I don't want to be with you, Hong." You're holding him so close, your lips just barely brushing his. He can't help but scan your face quickly, his hand reaching to brush a stray curl off your face. Your eyes follow his fingers, feeling them tuck the hair behind your ear before he swallows carefully. You can feel your stomach flip slightly as his hand drops, ghosting over your hip as he pushes off the desk, making you slightly stumble back. His fingers grab you gently, pulling you flush to him before his nose is touching yours. "Tell me you don't want me," He whispers, his breath hitting your lips making your lashes flutter closed as you press your lips to his. A whimper escapes his throat as he kisses you back, his grip tightening as your hand lets go of his shirt, your palm resting against his stomach as your other hand holds his waist. The kiss is slow but desperate, your tongue licking into his mouth in the way that drove him crazy over the summer. 

He can't help himself, his hand moving to tangle in your hair, moving his lips down your jaw and exposed neck. A sharp inhale from you as he reaches one of the many sweet spots he'd discovered, a soft whine sounding in his ears making him feel dizzy as he nips at your skin. Pulling back, he holds your face close to his as he speaks again. "Tell me you don't want me, and we can stop this right now. I'll be nothing but professional for the rest of the semester."

He can tell that wasn't what you were expecting. Your eyes are wide and full of mixed emotions, but overall, they flash with a bit of fear. "I…" Your hands move to rest on his hips, a frown on your lips as you let go, and he does the same. His arms cross with an expectant look on his face, and you grimace.

"Stop embarrassing me in front of people, and if you don't have a good reason to talk to me or be near me, don't engage at all." 

He gives you a nod, his smile reappearing as he reaches to wipe your lip gloss from his lips. "That being said, I'm guessing you will not be attending office hours tonight?" Huffing, you look away. "No. I have to help Chan move into the frat house with you and your hooligan friends."

"So I'll see you tonight anyway." He speaks with a grin, and you tongue your cheek. "Leave me alone, Joshua."

You spin on your heel, but his arm is on your elbow before you can walk away. He pulls you back, pulling you into a hug, pressing his lips to your hairline as you hesitantly wrap your arms around him. He speaks against your hair, "One more. For the road."

"Joshua." You groan, trying to hide the giddy feeling spreading in your stomach. He smiles at you, planting a kiss to the tip of your nose. "Just one, and I'll let you slam out of here like we were arguing."

You roll your eyes, but let him slot his lips with yours, the minty taste of him still lingering from the previous kiss. This one is much gentler, the warmth of his body against yours comforting as he pulls away with a chaste kiss. And another. And another.

"You said one." You grumble, swatting at his side to make him let you go. He smiles, his thumb coming to wipe at your lips. Your lipgloss is gone entirely, just glitter remaining. "Mmh. I'll see you later." "Whatever." You pull away from him, and he watches as you slam your way out of the classroom, a few students from your class still lingering in the hallway catching his eye. They look questioning, but he just shrugs as the door closes. He sighs as he looks around the empty lecture hall, a glimmer on the third step up calling his eyes. 

Making his way towards the steps, he sees the gold plating of a seven-pointed star, a message engraved in the back. 

For my brightest star, Y/N.

Picking it up, the diamonds mock him.

He feels slightly stupid to think this is fate, while knowing that once you realize it's gone, you'll be panicking. It seems nothing is really going right for you these days – your car being hit, fighting with Saerom, not being able to stand your ground against him…and now your necklace is 'gone'. He wants to be selfish and say it's because you're being a bit of a jerk to him.

So he'll believe that.

haologram © 2024 || no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[florawrites-blog]

Over the summer - enhypen

-seeing you in school after summerbreak

(Guys i dont fuck with school and i need to get kidnapped sooner then later)

Lee heeseung - 이희승

The summer had been a time of transformation for you. You'd experimented with new trends, updated your wardrobe, and embraced a style that was entirely your own. As senior year began, you felt both nervous and excited to show the world your new look.

Walking into the school, you felt a few eyes on you, but you kept your head high, feeling more confident than ever. The first day of senior year was always a bit chaotic, with everyone trying to find their classes, catch up with friends, and adjust to the new schedule. You were heading towards your locker when you suddenly bumped into someone, causing your books to tumble to the ground.

"Ah, sorry about that," you said quickly, bending down to pick them up.

As you reached for the books, you noticed a familiar face across from you—Heeseung. He was your best friend's boyfriend's friend, someone you'd met a few times at gatherings. He had always been nice, but you'd never really talked much. Today, however, he seemed different. As he handed you your books, his movements slowed, and he just… stared.

There was a moment of silence, his eyes scanning you with an expression you couldn’t quite read. It was as if he was seeing you for the first time, truly seeing you.

You blinked, then cleared your throat to snap him out of whatever trance he was in. "Uh, Heeseung? You okay?"

Heeseung shook his head slightly, blinking as if waking up from a dream. "Oh, yeah, sorry! I just… didn't recognize you at first. You look… different. In a good way," he added quickly, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

You chuckled softly, feeling a bit of heat rise to your own cheeks. "Thanks, I guess I tried something new this summer."

"It really suits you," he said, still looking a little dazed. He handed you the last of your books, his fingers brushing against yours for just a second longer than necessary. "Well, I guess I'll see you around," he said, finally stepping back.

"Yeah, see you around," you replied, giving him a small smile before turning to head to your locker.

As you walked away, you could feel his eyes on you, and you couldn't help but smile to yourself. Maybe this new style was a bigger hit than you thought.

Park jongseong - 박종성

It was the first week back at school, and everything felt new and exciting. Over the summer, you had embraced a major glow-up, transforming yourself in ways you never thought possible. You weren’t just ready for senior year; you were ready to make it your best year yet.

The school’s newspaper writing club, which had been your second home since middle school, wasn’t starting until next week. But today, you found yourself in the club room, alone, testing out the new cameras the school had purchased. The room was quiet, the only sounds being the occasional click of the camera as you snapped some test shots.

Lost in your thoughts, you were adjusting the lens when you suddenly heard the unmistakable sound of a camera shutter clicking, but it wasn’t your own. Startled, you quickly turned around, your heart skipping a beat.

Standing there, with the biggest smile on his face, was Jay. His charming dimples were on full display, and there was a certain warmth in his eyes that made your breath catch for a moment. He looked even better than you remembered, the summer having been kind to him as well.

“Welcome back to action, gorgeous,” he muttered, his voice smooth and teasing as he lowered the camera from his face.

You blinked, trying to process the moment. Jay had always been your partner in the newspaper club, a constant presence since middle school. But today, there was something different in the air, something you hadn’t noticed before.

“Jay, you scared me,” you managed to say, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you tried to play off your surprise.

He chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours as he stepped closer. “Sorry about that, couldn’t resist. You looked so focused, I had to capture the moment.”

Your cheeks warmed slightly at his words, and you glanced down at the camera in your hands. “Well, I was just trying to get the hang of these new cameras. They’re pretty nice, huh?”

“Yeah, they are,” Jay agreed, but his gaze told you he wasn’t just talking about the cameras. “But I think you’re the one who’s really shining here.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his playful words, feeling a flutter in your chest. “Flattery won’t get you out of helping me with the first article, you know.”

He grinned, leaning against the table beside you, still holding the camera loosely in his hand. “Wouldn’t dream of it. But seriously, it’s good to see you again. This year’s gonna be something special, I can feel it.”

There was a sincerity in his voice that made you believe him, and as you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, he was right. Senior year was off to a promising start, and with Jay by your side, you knew it was going to be unforgettable.

Sim jaeyun - 심재윤

It was the first day of senior year, and the summer break had left you with more than just memories. A trip back to Korea with your mom had turned into a complete makeover experience, something you hadn’t planned but thoroughly enjoyed. You felt refreshed, like a new version of yourself, ready to tackle the final year of high school.

Walking into school that morning, you noticed the familiar buzz of excitement and nerves that always came with the start of a new school year. But this year, it felt different—maybe it was the confidence from your summer transformation, or maybe it was the realization that you were finally in your last year of school.

As you made your way through the hallway, catching up with friends and exchanging stories about summer, you suddenly heard a commotion behind you. Turning around, you saw Jake sprawled out on the floor, a mix of shock and embarrassment on his face. It took you a moment to realize what had happened: he’d tripped over his own feet while staring at you.

Jake Sim, the school clown, known for making everyone laugh with his corny jokes and ridiculous antics. To everyone else, he was the funniest guy on earth. But to you? Well, let’s just say his jokes never really hit the mark. Maybe it was because he was your neighbor, and you’d had a front-row seat to his constant comedy routine since you were kids. Over time, his jokes had gone from amusing to… well, a bit tiring.

But as much as you were used to rolling your eyes at Jake’s jokes, there was something different about the way he was looking at you now. His usual goofy grin was nowhere to be found; instead, he was staring at you like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

You arched an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at your lips. “You alright there, Jake? Need some help?”

Jake quickly scrambled to his feet, brushing off his clothes as he tried to play it cool. “Y-yeah, I’m good,” he stammered, his usual confidence nowhere in sight. “Just, uh, didn’t see that… crack in the floor.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking your head. “Sure, Jake. Whatever you say.”

As you turned to walk away, you could feel his eyes still on you. Jake had always been the type to chase after what he couldn’t have, and you knew you were the one thing he hadn’t been able to get a hold of. Maybe that’s why he was so persistent, always trying to make you laugh, always trying to get your attention.

But today, something about the way he looked at you was different. There was a softness in his eyes, a vulnerability you hadn’t seen before. For a moment, you wondered if this year would be any different, if Jake would be different.

Before you could dwell on it, Jake called after you, his voice returning to its usual playful tone. “Hey, wait up! I need to tell you the best joke I came up with over the summer.”

You rolled your eyes, a smile creeping onto your face despite yourself. “Jake, if it’s anything like your usual material, I might just have to transfer schools.”

He laughed, falling into step beside you as you continued down the hallway. “You’ll love this one, I promise. It’s got all the elements—timing, delivery, and a punchline that’ll knock your socks off.”

“Alright, hit me with your best shot,” you said, bracing yourself for whatever corny joke he was ab'out to deliver.

But as Jake started telling his joke, you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes kept flicking to you, as if he was trying to gauge your reaction, trying to see if he could finally crack through the wall you’d built up between the two of you.

Maybe this year would be different after all.

Park sunghoon - 박성훈

The memory of that incredibly awkward encounter in the men’s bathroom was something you had tried hard to forget, but it seemed like it had lodged itself in the back of your mind permanently. And apparently, it had done the same for Sunghoon. Ever since that day, there had been this strange, unspoken tension between the two of you—a tension that had grown stronger with every passing week.

It wasn’t like you and Sunghoon had been close before. He was just another face in the sea of students, someone you occasionally passed in the hallways or shared a class with. But after that fateful day, everything changed. You couldn’t look at him without your cheeks burning, and whenever you saw him, he’d either avoid you entirely or quickly look away as if you were the sun and he might go blind from too much exposure.

Today was no different. You were sitting in the canteen with your friends, catching up on all the summer happenings. The conversation was light and easy, full of laughter and the usual teasing that came with being close for so long. Everything was perfectly normal—until Nudsie, your best friend, nudged you with her elbow.

“Hey, don’t look now, but someone’s staring at you again,” she whispered, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips.

You felt your stomach flip, already knowing who she was talking about. But still, you couldn’t resist. Your eyes flicked up, scanning the room until they landed on Sunghoon, who was sitting with his own group of friends across the canteen. Just as your eyes met, he quickly turned his head away, his movements so abrupt it was almost comical.

It was the same as it had been all week. You’d catch him staring, but the moment you looked back, he’d act like nothing had happened, like he hadn’t been studying you from afar like some sort of brooding vampire. The whole situation was driving you crazy, not to mention how awkward it made things feel.

Nudsie raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “What’s up with that? You two have been playing this weird staring game for days now.”

You sighed, pushing your food around on your tray, trying to play it off. “It’s nothing. Just… something stupid that happened last year. I’m sure it’ll blow over.”

But even as you said it, you couldn’t help but feel like this tension wasn’t going away anytime soon. Sunghoon was avoiding you, sure, but he was also watching you. There was something in the way he looked at you—something that wasn’t just about the embarrassment of that one incident. It was almost like he was trying to figure something out, like there was more to this weird tension than just what happened in the bathroom.

As the week dragged on, the stares continued. You’d see him in the hallways, in the classrooms, and even during lunch—always with that same guarded look, as if he was afraid you might suddenly bring up that embarrassing memory in front of everyone. And yet, every time your eyes met, he’d turn away so quickly it was like he was ashamed of being caught.

It was exhausting, and honestly, you were getting tired of the whole thing. How long could the two of you keep avoiding each other? How long could this ridiculous game of almost eye contact go on?

But every time you thought about confronting him, your mind flashed back to that day, and the embarrassment came rushing back tenfold. Maybe, for now, it was easier to let this strange tension linger in the air between you—unspoken, unresolved, and frustratingly awkward.

But in his case he just couldnt take his eyes off of you it wasn't even intentionally but his eyes would randomly drift in your direction, (he was down bad and he'd go home screaming in his pillow remebering both how good you look and that incident that he can't get over)

Kim sunoo - 김순우 (I relate cause SUNOO WTF)

The first day back at school after an amazing summer break was the last thing you wanted to deal with. Grumpy and irritated, you dragged yourself to class, barely able to muster the energy to interact with anyone. As soon as you reached your desk, you dropped your head on the table, hoping to catch some sleep and avoid the day altogether.

When you finally lifted your head, your eyes locked onto none other than Kim Sunoo. Over the summer, it seemed like Aphrodite herself had blessed him because he looked even more stunning than before. The sight of him looking so effortlessly gorgeous irritated you more than you could have imagined. Annoyed and frustrated, you let out a sigh and dropped your head back on the table with a loud thud.

The noise drew the attention of everyone in the room, and you could feel their eyes on you, but you couldn’t care less. Today was not the day for this, and seeing Sunoo looking like a literal god wasn’t helping. You just wanted to get through the day without losing your mind.

Yang jungwon - 양중원

The first day of school after summer break had been eventful. You had taken on the role of leader while Jungwon was away on a trip with his parents. As you walked through the hallways, you noticed the buzz around Jungwon's return. Everyone was excited to see him after three weeks.

When he finally walked into the room, the energy shifted. Conversations paused, and all eyes turned to him. But instead of greeting everyone, his gaze immediately locked onto you. His jaw dropped, and for a moment, he looked completely dumbfounded.

"You’re so beautiful," he blurted out, his voice barely above a whisper.

You blinked in surprise, your cheeks flushing slightly. "What?" you asked, almost not believing what you heard.

Jungwon quickly tried to recover, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away awkwardly. "I mean—uh, I was just… I meant to say hello. Yeah, just, um… hello."

You couldn’t help but smile at his flustered state. The usual composed and confident Jungwon was caught off guard, and it was all because of you. "Hello, Jungwon," you replied with a soft laugh, enjoying his reaction a little more than you probably should.

Ni- ki -남편

It was the first day back after the summer break, and the energy in the school was buzzing. Over the summer, you'd undergone a transformation that left even you in awe. As you walked through the school, heads turned, but you were more focused on the day ahead than on the attention.

During the break, Ni-ki had a basketball match to celebrate the return to school. You knew he'd be playing, and while you usually didn’t care, today you decided to watch, purely out of boredom. As the game progressed, Ni-ki was his usual self—focused, competitive, and annoyingly good. But then, something strange happened.

His eyes drifted toward the crowd, and they landed on you. You were casually leaning against the bleachers, your new look catching his attention. It was as if time slowed down for him. His focus shattered, and before he could regain it, the basketball smacked him right in the face.

You couldn't hold back your laughter. It was loud, genuine, and probably a bit mean, but the sight was just too hilarious to ignore. After the game, Ni-ki marched straight to the nurse’s office, holding his nose and glaring at you the entire way.

When he returned, a bandage over his nose, he made a beeline for you, still fuming. "This is your fault!" he accused, eyes narrowing.

You raised an eyebrow, still giggling. "My fault? I wasn't even on the court!"

Ni-ki huffed, clearly frustrated. "How the hell do you look like this?"

That caught you off guard. "Excuse me?"

He looked flustered for a moment, then crossed his arms, trying to maintain his usual defiance. "You distracted me. That's why I got hit."

You blinked, genuinely confused but also amused. "So, you're blaming me for you not paying attention? Sounds like a you problem, Ni-ki."

He opened his mouth to argue but then closed it, seemingly at a loss for words. For once, it seemed Ni-ki didn't have a snarky comeback. Instead, he just muttered something under his breath and walked off, leaving you standing there, half-smirking at his sudden, strange behavior.

his mutters (She's to pretty I can't even argue)

[goldsbitch]

I gave so many signs

summary: First unrequited love is not the one to ever leave your mind. Y/N looks back at her missed connection with Charles Leclerc from the time they were just teenagers and regrets having him slip away.

song fic (disclaimer: rights belong to the respectable owners)

exile - Taylor Swift Lie to me - 5 Seconds of Summer (feat. Julia Michaels) Worst of you - Maisie Peters

warning: Present time, the past

Coming back home to Monaco always brought a sour smile to her face. She loved growing up in this strange small town where everyone knew each other and celebrities came to show off and then went back to wherever, to tell stories of Monte Carlo.

They say that you get to experience three very different real loves in your lifetime - and only if you're lucky, it would be with the same person. Her first love was Charles Leclerc.

I saw you lookin' brand new overnight I caught you lookin' too, but you didn't look twice

Visiting family was the reason why she always came back, but going out with the few girls from high school who stayed there was a treat she dared not to miss. There is just something about hanging out with those people who helped one buy the first eyeshadow and with whom she pregamed at one of their step dad's dermatology office before going on trying to get into any club that would allow minors in. So there she was once again, at the old time spot, having a harder time to hold her alcohol since she'd passed the magic non hangover years. And to her luck, he walked in only a bare half an hour later than her.

Whenever she saw him, even after those years, it was like everyone else had dissapeared from the room. He seemed to age like wine.

It's 3 AM and the moonlight's testing me I know that you've been holding on to someone else And now I can't sleep

"Come here to me," she teased, moving closer to him. He tried to stop her and playfully pushed himself the furthest away possible the couch would allow. "Charlie, let me see!" she insisted and sat on top of him. She had to act quickly, there would be no way for her to keep the upper hand. He was just turning eighteen soon and the time in gym was starting to bring back results. "I do not have any hairline, Y/N," he gasped, annoyed. His tone changed. Back then she interpreted it as just him being done with her shit. Looking at it now, there probably was a different reason why he became more stiff. She sat on him, going through his hair and taking few photos, blissfully unaware. "I'll show this to you in a few years and we'll see! Ha!" Charles eyes were shooting arrows in her direction. She looked back at him, curious and not grasping the moment in the same way as he did. "What?" she asked simply. "Nothing..."

I can see you standing, honey With his arms around your body Laughin', but the joke's not funny at all

She laughed a bit at that memory as she sipped her drink and tried her best to avoid keeping looking back at him as he sat with his current friends and an absolute gorgeous girl laughing at his joke. She knew who she was. Sometimes she peaked at his socials and then blocked him again right away. She certainly knew he had her blocked.

They went to different schools and Charles had his racing activities anyway. So they'd spent a lot of time texting. A lot.

It was just one of the horrifically long school days where she doubted the point of her existence. Life had to be more than sitting in a pointless computer science class. She wanted to be a big lawyer girl boss one day, so why would she ever care about programming. There she was, staring at the assignment from the teacher who was stuck in 20th century anyway, having little to no clue what to do. As she'd usually do, she texted Charles. Bombed him with twenty texts demanding attention, before he finally responded. "OMG i thought someone had died" "i am dying charles" "no your not" "*you're" "i can go back to my race simulator if you keep being a little shit" "nooo, please dont go. you're my only hope. sorry, your. i get it, you got out of the school too early." "that's it, i'm gone" "noo, please stay, I'll be nice and say nice things about you" "i'm staying, go on" "you are absolutely gorgeous" "yes, agree. more" "you are soo funny, amazing, future heart breaker and your passion for racing is so inspiring" "i like this. more"

Second, third, and hundredth chances Balancin' on breaking branches Those eyes add insult to injury

They were inseparable, yet nobody knew. Always meeting alone, because they did not need anyone and their social circles didn't really meet together. Whenever he was back in town, the two of them would hit up their favorite café or hang out at his house and then go for a walk. The two of them walked around Monte Carlo as if they were suppose to be the cartographers creating the first map of that area ever. Those were the good old days that came to end very unexpectedly.

We always walked a very thin line You didn't even hear me out (Didn't even hear me out) You never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)

His hands were shaking when he sent the email. But he just could not take it anymore. He was over the moon in love with her and didn't know how to contain it.

"there is no easy way to say this. i love you. sorry. i'm stupid and i know we're just friends. but i basically live only for racing and seeing you. i'm terrified of seeing you with someone else. if there is at least a cell in your body that feels the same, please let's meet up and talk about it. if not, do not reply and i will never mention this again and deal with it. i love you."

She was seventeen when she got his message out of the blue. A scared little girl who was petrified of feelings and anything relationship related. So she never replied to his email.

All this time I never learned to read your mind I couldn't turn things around (I couldn't turn things around) 'Cause you never gave a warning sign (You never gave a warning sign)

Charles had a very little hope that she'd feel the same - why would she, such an amazing person, kind, fun and totally glorified in his eyes, so he could not even imagine him being worthy of her. But what if? What if he was enough? With every day when she did not respond to his email, his heart sank lower. Still, the pain of the first rejection is a hard one to take, because it's usually from a scared unexperienced heart to another and the clumsiness causes great deal of accidental collateral damage one remembers until the end of their life.

You're not my homeland anymore So what am I defending now? You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out

She texted him from school few days after that - a normal text, as if nothing happened. Both of them were too chicken to address the situation openly. So he opted for buring his feeling and she for playing like she had no idea. Deep down, she always knew, even before he emailed her. They texted, continued to meet up. But it was never the same again.

Flashing back to New York City I was done, but you undid me Classic me to run when it feels right

It was hard to get closure for her. After all that had happened and the mess the two made for each other was a hard lesson she remembered vividly. She glanced at your first love again - and finally she met his look, after almost two years of managing to missing each other while they were both back in Monaco. She'd daydreamed about bumping into him, the two chatting and smiling again. The world stopped again for few moments. He shot her an unsure quick half smile that said it all. She knew him too well for that.

And now I wish we never met 'Cause you're too hard to forget While I'm cleaning up your mess I know he's taking off your dress

It was her prom night and she could not be more excited. All her friends were here, family, even Charles managed to get in town to watch her dance and drink all night. She had the night of her life, perfect end to end this chapter of life. The excitement her eyes held was contagious. She spent the first half of her evening with the family and Charles, sharing few dances and laughs. If felt like the good old days. But one shot of tequila led to another and there she was, drunk as pirate and unhinged like a teenage girl. Charles did his best to keep her parents at bay, keep them occupied while he got one of his friends to take care of her. He was worried she might do something stupid, like walk up to the stage and fall down breaking all of her bones. Finally, her parents decided to leave without having to saying goodbye to her after Charles spent a good half an hour convincing them she was just in the back stage and that he'd get her home safe. When they were gone, he began to search for her, only to finally find her sitting on the stairs, making out with the friend he assigned to keep an eye on her.

So take me to every party and just talk to your friends Why don't you let me down, I'll let you do it again Go on and walk all over me, just don't walk away Give me the worst of you 'Cause I want you anyway

It was like being cut open alive and having people watch. There was nothing even remotely graceful about her actions, she was literally sitting on the floor having a battle of tongues with another drunk teenager while people had to walk pass her. It was embarrassing. Charles didn't know what to do. He wanted to run away and never come back, but he couldn't leave her there alone. He couldn't bring himself to stop the two of his friends, because he was just too sad and heartbroken to do so. He just stayed nearby and kept an eye on them. It was one of the longest nights in his life.

She couldn't remember the second half of her prom night and Charles would never speak of it, even though she begged him many times. He always became stiff and started to leave the room. She only kept asking, because it marked one of the biggest shifts in their friendships. He became cold, unresponsive and after few weeks, he stopped communicating completely.

You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out I think I've seen this film before

Funny how people's faces change with years, but the eyes stay the same. The eyes and the look. Charles looked at her the second time this evening. It was like staring back at the eighteen year old boy who was drowning in his feeling.

It was one of her last nights in Monaco before leaving for university. Finally, her dreams were coming true. She was more than ready to get our to show the world she was a force to be reckoned with. She sent Charles countless messages before her final departure, at that moment, she was sure she'll never ever get back to Monaco and wanted to at least understand why he became distant. One evening, he finally agreed to meet up and talk. She was over the moon. Knowing that she could always turn Charles over, she left feeling confident - he was one the very few people she was sure shared the same soul as her. It was as if they'd never stopped talking. Jokes flying everywhere, the two of them strolling around, having no idea this would be the last time (and maybe, that was better for her at the time). There was so much to share, the two kept talking over each other for hours. Charles was happy when she finally stopped to take a breath for a moment. She looked him in the eye and saw a look she'd seen countless of times on his face. There was a shift in her mind and out of nowhere, she was kissing the boy she'd been unknowingly in love for years. She'd realize that she loved him only once she started dating a random guy from her college, expecting the same feeling Charles gave her. But it never came. Had she known, she'd have stayed with him. He tried to convince her to start dating him. Almost begged her to try it with him long distance. But there was a whole world for you to discover, places to be and versions of her that needed discovering. She had kissed only once. But it was a kiss of a lifetime. He blocked her on all socials after she rejected him again.

I never learned to read your mind (Never learned to read my mind) I couldn't turn things around (You never turned things around) 'Cause you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs) So many signs, so many signs You didn't even see the signs

The girls were laughing at some joke she missed while digging in her memory for traces of her first love. Charles Leclerc. He was sitting few tables away from her. This time, her heart sank as he kissed his girlfriend on the cheek as they walked away from the bar. She wanted to run to him, to talk to him again after all those years. To tell him the same thing he once emailed her. To explain that she was just too young to notice she had the love of her life right next to you. But she knew all too well what his answer would be. And just like he had back then, she never wanted to hear it out loud.

And I know that you don't, but if I ask you if you love me I hope you lie, lie, lie, lie, lie to me

part 2

[httpiastri]

❣️ I just read your confession post for oscar and others! Can you do it for other drivers like Paul, Ollie, and Kimi? Love your writing! You inspired me to start my own Formula blog :D

❣️ – send me a prompt and one/a few drivers and i'll tell you how i think they would react!!

paul aron

paul is no stranger to short-lived flings and summer romances, but he's not as familiar with the feeling of his heart fluttering the way it does whenever he thinks about you. he isn't used to the way that he thinks about telling you whenever something good happens to him, nor the way that he wants to ask for your help when he's going through something. he doesn't understand why you're the first thing he thinks about in the morning, and the last thing on his mind before he falls asleep. it takes him so long to figure out these new feelings, and when he eventually realizes that he's falling for you, he just gets scared.

he has no experience with these feelings, and everything he's heard about real relationships – commitment, trust, loyalty – sounds terrifying. but it doesn't take long for him to realize that it's worth it if it's with you.

i think the confession itself would be quite impromptu and unplanned. i'm imagining a movie night at his place, with you cuddled up to his side, when he just can't hold back anymore. when he asks if he can tell you something, he sounds just as playful as he usually does, so you never could've guessed the words that fall from his lips after that. "you're so... special. in a good way, a great way. and i... i think i'm falling for you."

ollie bearman

i see ollie as... kind of shy in this way? he isn't embarrassed or cowardly, but something in him makes that first real step a little too hard to take. i think ollie would much rather find a romantic, subtle way to do it.

one day, you're surprised to hear your doorbell ringing – you aren't expecting anyone, right? and you didn't order anything, did you? when you open your door, you find only a big bouquet of flowers standing outside it. you smile to yourself as you pick it up, your mind instantly wandering off to the tall, handsome brit you've been spending a lot of time with recently, who has had a bit of a habit of giving you flowers. this bouquet is especially big, though, and you try to search through your mind for any possible major occasion the bouquet could be for as you bring it inside.

but when you set it atop your dinner table, a note falls out from in between the flowers. and on the note, in ollie's messy handwriting, comes that confession you've been waiting so long for.

i like you. i really like you, and i would love to see what we could be. only if you feel the same way, of course. (please forget about all of this if you don't)

i'm sorry for not having the courage to say this to your face, but i would love to see you tonight if you're free. please call me.

sincerely, your bear ☺︎♡

kimi antonelli

kimi would be very spontaneous about it. he would not be planning it; it would come as just as much of a surprise to him as to you. i see it coming when you're sitting next to each other in class/the truck/etc, and you've been playing around with him and bothering him for quite a while. when you notice that your attempts to disturb his focus haven't worked, you turn to tickle him in hopes that it will work better – and it definitely does.

kimi folds over instantly, gasping loudly as his own hands come down to wrap around your wrists. "you're so annoying!" he exclaims, switching to hold both of your wrists in just one of his hands, as his other hand gives you a playful slap across the face. "you're lucky i like you so much, otherwise..."

you both come to a halt at his words, neither of you having expected them. instead of addressing it, though, he settles for moving his hands to tickle you instead, hoping to distract you from what just happened. you definitely won't forget, though, but the change is only for the better.

[baronessvonglitter]

Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 6 🍒 "Daddy Issues & Dads With Issues"

pre-outbreak! AU!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 1,906

Summary: after Joel's admission, the following day is rife with possibility, and a path is set for the future. (Basically a breather chapter)

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, talk of reader 'needing to get laid' (said by friend at work), talk of side character having hooked up with a teacher when she was presumably underage, mutual pining, finding out Joel was your dad's best friend (stumbling into dbf!Joel territory, but it's glossed over in this chapter), Joel basically agrees to be your first, age gap (reader is 18, Joel is 35), reader's race not specified but she is tomboyish, story takes place in summer 2003, no outbreak, no use of y/n

Series Masterlist

You wake up feeling like shit.

Your head hurts, your stomach hurts, your mouth feels like cotton. But then you remember the very best part of the night.. the end of it. You made out with Joel Miller. And that is the thought that puts a big silly grin on your face and turns those aches in your gut to fluttery little butterflies. At least momentarily.

You're stuck with the late shift at work, for which you are only mildly thankful. You have time to try to sleep off the effects of the party last night. But then you get a call which jolts you awake. It's Sarah.

"Are you okay?" her whispered, worried voice comes over the line.

"Yeah, not too bad. Kinda feel sick. What about you?" Closing your eyes you lay back on your bed. And then a terrible thought occurs to you. Does she know?

"I'm okay too. My dad was pretty pissed, but not as much as I thought he'd be. He seemed to have calmed down once he got in. But I'm still grounded. Was he pretty mad at you?"

You remember Joel's hands on you, how his tongue devoured your mouth, the thrust of his hips into yours, mimicking what you both really wanted in that moment.

"Uh, I don't think he's mad.. per se.." you answer.

"Yeah, you're not his daughter, he can't ground you," you hear the sarcasm in her voice and you laugh a little.

"I feel bad that you're grounded, even though you shouldn't have come along in the first place you little twerp," you tease her. "Listen, I have to work today but I'll bring you a frappuccino since you won't be able to leave your house until school starts."

Sarah giggles. "It's the least you could do."

You feel somewhat better when you finally get to work, and of course Hailey's there, commenting on your arrival. "Wow.. you look like shit."

You give her a deadpan stare. "Thanks. I feel like shit." You tie on your apron and get to work.

"Sorry.. about the cops busting the party," Hailey helps you start washing dishes at the sink. She looks fresh as a daisy, and you know you look like a monster compared to her. "Do you want to come by tonight? It's gonna be just a few of us. I could introduce you to some guys.." she nudges you and you fight to not roll your eyes. "Come on, you're young, you're usually hot." (This earns Hailey a playful shoulder shove from you.) "To put it mildly you need to get laid before college starts."

You sigh. Going out into the world alone you never imagined there would be such a strong emphasis on sex. And Hailey's waiting on your response.

"I can't tonight."

"Why? Got a date? I knew it! Someone from my party?"

There's no point in telling the truth. It's much easier to just lie to her. "Yeah," you say, hoping that if you just think of Joel you'll blush a little bit.

"I knew it! Well good luck tonight," she gives you a playful nudge.

You smile but remain quiet as you slowly wash, deep in thought. "Hailey, can I ask you something? Like, personal?"

"Of course," she shrugs.

"Have you ever been with anyone.. older? Like way older?"

Hailey's eyes grow wide. "How much older?"

This time you blush for real, keeping your head down to hide it. "Um, let's say.. ten years older?"

She smirks. "Once. He was a sub for my World History class."

"Oh.." you hide your look of shock. "What was it like?"

She looks up, a look on her face like she's trying to remember a state capitol instead of a former lover. "It was fine. Rushed. I think for him it was the thrill of being with someone younger."

You absorb her answer. Your situation is very different and for that you are glad. "On that note, have you ever been with someone older than that? For instance.. twenty years older?" This is the question you really mean to ask, but you let her think it's purely hypothetical.

"Twenty years older? No.. that's like sleeping with someone my father's age." Hailey's nose wrinkles in disgust.

"Yeah, no, you're right," you say quickly, not wanting to be under suspicion. "But in general, older guys are.. like, it's not weird?"

"Not really. It can be really hot. Most guys know what to do by a certain age and they love to teach what they know. Well. not most guys. Some guys," she amends her statement. "So what's up? You got the hots for an older guy? Little Miss Daddy Issues?" Hailey giggles.

"Yup. Got a date with your dad, bitch," you say jokingly, finishing up and giving Hailey's ponytail a little tug.

Driving home after work you have Sarah's drink in your cupholder. A quick glance at the Miller's driveway shows that Joel's not there, or at least his truck isn't. You're both relieved and sorry to miss him. You park at home and make the short walk to their house. The sky is already turning a pale purple from rose and gold. Maybe a dip in the pool is exactly what you need tonight.

Sarah greets you at the door, looking bored then she lights up when she sees you with her drink. "You're a lifesaver," she says.

A truck pulls up in the driveway and you turn to see it's Joel. Your stomach flips upside down and you tell Sarah bye, but when you start to leave you freeze as Joel gets out of his truck. "I'm glad you're here. I've been meanin' to talk to ya." He approaches you.

You gulp. "Oh, okay."

"About last night.." he looks around. "Can we talk in private?"

You remember what passed between you the last time you were in private. "Are you sure we should?"

He exhales but keeps his composure. "I wanted to say I'm sorry for my words and my actions yesterday. I had no right to say or do those things." He takes a closer look at you. "You do.. remember, right?"

"Yeah," you reply, your face scarlet.

He blushes in turn. "It was wrong, and I hope that you can forgive me."

Your stomach sinks and you feel ridiculous for having entertained any notion that he could possibly want you or even like you.

"It's fine," you manage a smile. "Forgiven and forgotten."

You turn to leave and he calls your name, lightly gripping your arm. You realize how much the sound of your name on his lips entices you, and even more so how such a small touch has such huge meaning for you. You turn to him and for the first time you see something like affliction in his eyes. Your heart turns over in your chest.

"I don't really get what's stopping you," you tell him quietly. "You say you like me, next thing you turn me away. Do you think I'm afraid of you? Because I'm not." You remove his hand from your arm and hold it in your own.

You can see from the rise and fall of Joel's chest that his pulse is quickening. He casts a nervous glance at the house, at the yards of each house around you, and you get it. He's worried about what other people think. And you can't really blame him.

"I'm not a child, Joel. And I don't care what anyone thinks. People never pay as much attention as you believe they do." He hasn't released your hand and you take that as a good sign.

"There's a lot you don't understand, sweetheart." His voice is low, gruff, yet soothing. He gently strokes the pad of his thumb against your hand.

"Then tell me. Let me be the one to judge if I can understand or not."

He shifts uneasily from one foot to the other, and slowly releases your hand. "Your dad and I were friends growin' up, through high school. Best friends, I s'pose. We drifted away after he got your mom pregnant, right before graduation. I knew about you before you were even born." His fixes his gaze on you, as if to merge the idea of you with the person you have actually become. "Does that bother you? Hell, I'm your dad's age. And by the way it pisses me off to hear he just ran off on you and your mom. That fact has been boilin' in my chest ever since you told me." He sighs and leans against the bumper of his truck, arms crossed. "Sweetheart, you oughta find someone your own age. You deserve that."

"I don't want someone else," you say stubbornly. "Do you want someone else?"

He's quiet so long that you worry you won't get an answer. But then he says, "No."

Your heart vibrates in your chest as you get closer to him, hoping he'll let his guard down but not willing to pressure him.

A little smile graces his lips. "Sweetheart, if you come any closer I can't guarantee I won't kiss ya."

"You want to kiss me, you just won't." It's half-challenge, half-assumption.

"Is that some reverse psychology?" Joel smirks.

"Is it working?" you counter.

He swipes a hand through his hair and you want so badly to do that too. He says your name under his breath, three times, chuckling to himself. "You're gonna be a handful, ain't ya?" The way he smiles at you makes you feel like you're on fire.

"You sayin' you can't handle me?" you playfully mimic his accent, hands on your hips, as a smile lights up your face, making Joel laugh. You love the sound of it.

"I think I wouldn't mind tryin'," and even though he's smiling you notice the slow ogling he gives you.

The coming dusk has tinted the entire world with a lavender light, giving a dreamlike touch to you and to him. And it definitely feels like a dream when you go into his arms and they wrap around you, and he presses his lips to the top of your head. "Don't think you're off the hook yet for takin' Sarah to that party," he mumbles.

You start to feel rebuffed but you pull away slightly to see that playful little smirk on his handsome face. "In that case maybe I should be punished," you offer.

He exhales quickly and presses you close to him, hands on your hips. "You're temptin' me to do just that, sweetheart."

You're in his arms, right where you want to be. "Did you mean what you said last night? About.. being with me?" Though you've both admitted how you feel, you still can't bring yourself to use the verbiage Joel used.

He doesn't even blush, doesn't even bat an eye. "I do mean it. Is that somethin' you want?" He looks at you intently.

"Yes," you say without hesitation, and he trembles with emotion before kissing you. This time he takes his time with you, gently pressing his lips to yours, his hand gently cupping your face. Even his tongue is gentle, teasing, igniting a slow burn in the deepest part of you.

Afterwards, he holds you again, gently stroking your back. "So. Your first, huh?"

Your head on his shoulder, you nod, heart jumping when you realize where his thoughts are.

"I'd be honored, sweetheart.. "

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dividers by @saradika-graphics & @firefly-graphics

[skz317cb97]

The Enemy of my Enemy

Seungmin x Female reader

Word count: 5.1k

Synopsis: Your soulmate's name on one wrist, your enemies on the other, and no way of knowing which is which. Having Kim Seungmin’s name on your wrist could only mean one thing after years of torture he was, no doubt, your enemy.

A/N: 18+ ONLY! The poll was overwhelmingly for this soul link to be next. A lot of people were saying it was a take they hadn't seen before or often. I thought it was unique too and it screamed Seungmin to me. I didn't go too crazy with smut in this, others will have more. As always warnings and smut below the cut!

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI! Cursing/ strong language, mentions of bullying, excessive drinking, vomiting, unprotected piv sex (please use condoms), cream pie. That's it yall. If I happened to have missed something let me know and I'll add it!

If you would have known when you turned twenty-one that Kim Seungmin’s name would appear on your wrist you would have cut off your arm. Okay maybe that was a bit drastic but the last thing you wanted to see every time you looked down was his name. He’d tortured you through most of middle school and high school. The other name on your other wrist, Andy Cope, he sounded nice. You tried to imagine what he looked like, what kind of person he was. How this worked was one of the names that appeared on your wrist was the name of your soulmate, the other, your enemy and if Kim Seungmin’s name was on one of your wrists it was for one reason and one reason only. He was your enemy. 

What was crazy was in primary school, you and Seungmin had been inseparable, best friends. You weren’t sure what happened. You left for a summer between primary and middle school and when you came back he was... different. Mean. It started with ignoring you, even if you walked straight up to him he just turned and acted like he didn’t see you. It was embarrassing the couple of times it happened and then you just stopped trying. You didn’t even know why he was being the way he was but you were just a kid and it hurt you so if he wouldn’t talk to you about it then you wouldn’t talk to him either. As time went on just ignoring you wasn’t fun enough and he started to torment you. Every day it was something any little thing he could do to upset you, like sliding a broken ink pen in the back pocket of your new jeans, he would tell new kids that although you looked normal you had brain damage from falling off a toilet, on three separate occasions he’d changed your name in the yearbook to Chu Bocca. They eventually stopped allowing him to work for the yearbook so he had to find other ways to pick at you and he did, every... single... day. 

When you finally graduated high school you were so relieved to be going to a college far far away from Kim Seungmin. Or so you thought. To say you were a little upset to see Seungmin at your freshman orientation would be an understatement. Truthfully as soon as you saw him you ran back to your dorm, fell onto your bed and cried. It had been seven years, did you really have to go through another four? When you were done with college would he move next door to you? Would he always be right there to pick at you? Tear you down for reasons you didn’t even know? It’s not fair you thought to yourself. In all actuality Seungmin had no idea you had even applied to that college, it was your second choice and his first. It wasn’t like he was going out of his way to follow you. He’d looked forward to not living in the shadow of his pain anymore but he saw you as you dashed away from the freshman orientation and his heart sank. 

The summer in between primary and middle school had been really hard for Seungmin. He missed you terribly. Fourth grade he’d developed a bit of a crush on you. By the summer before middle school, it was full on puppy love. Then one of the boys from your class showed Seungmin a note that looked like your handwriting. It said that he was annoying and that you were glad to be gone for the summer so you didn’t have to pretend to be his friend the whole time. The boy who showed Seungmin the note said that you had given it to him because he was your boyfriend now and you didn’t want him to think you had any feelings for Seungmin. The boy said to stay away and to not bother you anymore. Poor Seungmin’s heart was broken, he was hurt and angry. If you didn’t want to be his friend anymore fine! The first day back at school you walked right up to Seungmin and acted like everything was perfectly normal. He was gob smacked and when his brain finally caught up he just turned and walked away. He did the same thing the next time you tried to talk to him.  

Then you started to ignore him and that made him even more angry. Who were you to be mad that he wouldn’t talk to you when you had said what you said? That’s when the little petty picking started. Seungmin would never do anything that would get you into big trouble or anything that would hurt you. He was mad at you but he would never want to hurt you like that, no matter what you did to him. Seven years. No matter how much he said he hated you to anyone that would listen, deep down every year Seungmin loved you more and more which only made his pain grow more. He had been looking forward to his own fresh start at college and then he saw you running away and it seemed like any chance of that happening ran out the door with you. 

Whether you were there or not Seungmin decided to stick with his plan. This was a new place with new people, a fresh start, and that’s exactly what he did. He made new friends and avoided you if he could but didn’t make a thing of it. Once classes started it wasn’t hard since you were both so busy with your workload. You actively avoided Seungmin which made his job of staying away from you easy. That was until Seungmin’s twenty-first birthday when he looked down and saw your name on one of his wrists, he quickly looked at the other and knew instantly what it meant. You were Seungmin’s soulmate. You of course wouldn’t know this until your own twenty-first birthday unless he told you and there was no way you would believe him even if he showed you. A couple weeks after your birthday you got a text from an unknown number. 

Unknown: Uh... hey. 

You: Uh... who’s this? 

Unknown: We’ll get to that, for now just know I’m someone you know and probably don’t like very much. 

You: Seungmin? 

Unknown: Dammit! 

You: 🙄 What do you want Seungmin? Why are you cryptically texting me? 

Seungmin: Well it was your birthday a couple of weeks ago... 

You: Yes it was, I’m surprised you still remember when it is. 

Seungmin: Well don’t you think we should talk about it? 

You: What is there to talk about Seungmin? It’s not surprising, is it? 

Seungmin: You weren’t surprised?! I have to say I definitely was. 

You: I don’t know why, you’ve hated me for years, of course you’d be my enemy. 

Enemy? You thought he was your enemy?! Did you hate him that much? He never hated you; he was hurt and immature. He’d learned since then and the last couple years away at college had made him grow up a bit. If you thought he was your enemy you must be pretty certain that the other name was your soulmate. He wanted to know. 

Seungmin: What’s the name on your other wrist? 

You: Not that it’s any of your business but Andy Cope is the other name. 

Seungmin was so confused. 

Seungmin: How do you know him? 

You: I don’t 

Seungmin: Then how do you know he’s your soulmate and not me? 

You: Are you actually being serious right now? 

Seungmin: YES! 

You: I’m not doing this Seungmin, you know you’re not my soulmate you just want to fuck with me. We’ve been civil and leaving each other alone here. Let’s just keep doing that. 

Seungmin: Wait... I’m not fucking with you listen! 

You: No. Seungmin drop the soulmate thing. 

Seungmin: Just let me tell you something! 

You: Whatever you want to tell me Seungmin I don’t want to hear now leave me alone! 

Seungmin: This user has blocked this number 

Seungmin was so frustrated. He only wanted to explain that he knew he was your soulmate, he knew because the name that appeared on his other wrist on his twenty-first birthday was also Andy Cope. Obviously you both didn’t have the same soulmate, and to have the same enemy was extremely rare but it did happen. Seungmin went to pull you up on social media but you blocked him there too. After that he never saw you around campus. Before he’d see you here and there but now he never did. He was hurt all over again, just like that summer. He just couldn’t believe you hated him so much that you believed he was your enemy. He was a pest yes, and did things to bother you constantly, mostly for attention because he was a dumb teenager but he never did anything to actually hurt you. He would never because underneath all that anger was a broken heart. He was certain when you said the same name that you would know who this Andy Cope was. The name sounded so familiar to Seungmin he just couldn’t place it. 

A few months after blocking Seungmin it was time to head home for break. Seungmin was home too but still hadn’t seen you. He was still stuck on that name Andy Cope, Andy Cope... He pulled out one of his old yearbooks and started thumbing through it. It was seventh grade. He got to the page with your picture the name under read Chu Bocca, it was the first year he’d done that. He’d honestly hoped you would think it was funny, you both watched Star Wars a lot but apparently pubescent girls don’t like to be called a big hairy ape man. Then Seungmin saw a face he hadn’t thought of in years. Robby Hobbs. Robby left in the eighth grade when his family moved. Robby was the boy that had shown him your note, or the note he had believed to be yours, and threatened Seungmin to stay away. Then Seungmin remembered something he’d learned from one of Robby’s old friends after he’d left. It didn’t seem like an important piece of information at the time, so he’d forgotten until now. Robby was adopted and his birth name was Andy Cope. 

You were bored, it was Friday, your parents were away for the weekend. You decided to go out to the bar and have a drink or two, try to actually relax and loosen up a bit, enjoy your break. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Seungmin every time you looked down at his name. You’d also be lying if you said you didn’t ever wonder if maybe he was right. Maybe he was your soulmate. The way you were as children, so close you knew even then, you had big feelings in your tiny body. The older you got the more you realized those feelings had been the budding of young love. Young love that was squashed. You were your fourth drink in, you hadn’t planned on drinking so much but your mind got the best of you and the more you thought the more you drank. Suddenly a large man who smelled of alcohol and sweat sat next to you at the bar. You glanced over and realized you actually knew who this gross man was. 

“Robby?” He looked over at you. 

“Well if it isn’t y/n, Jesus Christ are you as miserable as you look?” His words dripped with venom. Your face contorted. 

“Excuse me?” That was a lot coming from a guy that looked like he’d just rolled out of a gutter.  

“You and Seungmin still at each other’s throats still after all these years?” What did he know about that? He moved away not too long after that happened. 

“Best thing I ever did was give Seungmin that note. He tried to hide it but his poor little heart was broken.” Note? What note? What was he talking about? 

“Robby what the hell are you talking about?” He laughed. 

“Didn’t he ever tell you why he was so mad when you came back? Why he stayed away?” You shook your head and Robby started laughing his ass off. 

“Oh that’s fantastic! I expected the silent treatment to last a few days, maybe a few weeks and then you’d figure it out but holy shit! It’s been like what ten, eleven years?!”  

“What did you do?” He wiped his tears away and looked down at you. 

“I scribbled a shitty note and told Seungmin you wrote it to me. Then I told him to stay away from you because you were my new girlfriend.” You were disgusted at the thought and how could Seungmin believe you’d do something like that? 

“Why the fuck would you do something like that Robby? What the hell did we do to you?” He laughed bitterly this time. 

“Because you both were so fucking annoying. Always giggling and whispering, talking shit about me behind my back so I put an end to it.” Your jaw dropped. 

“Robby we never talked about you! What the hell is wrong with you!?” He motioned for another drink, when the bartender sat it down Robby grabbed it and got up grumbling. 

“Gotta live with both your stupid names on my wrists for the rest of my life.” You stood up a little wobbly. 

“Wait what did you just say?” He showed you his wrists and your’s and Seungmin’s names were there plain as day.  

“How is that possible the names on my wrist are Seungmin’s and someone named Andy Cope.” Robby rolled his eyes. 

“And I was born Andy Cope. When my parents adopted me they changed my name to Robby, guess fate didn’t get the memo.” He snatched his arm from your grip and walked away . You realized that if Seungmin’s name was also on Robby... Andy... whoever, if Seungmin’s name was on his wrist then his name was on Seungmin’s too. That was how Seungmin knew you were soulmates, that was what he had been trying to text you but you were too stubborn and proud to listen. Robby had caused so much pain with just a little piece of paper. You feared the damage was done. Seungmin had pushed you away for so long and now you’ve pushed him away. What if you couldn’t fix things, what if it was too late? You drank and worried, doing far too much of both. Once you were good and drunk you grabbed your phone and unblocked Seungmin’s number. 

You: I dkdnt wsrite that noteee I justs thow=ght you shsould know. 

Seungmin: y/n? Are you drunk? 

You: a lilbit 

Seungmin: I think its definitely more than a little, where are you? 

You: I met Andyd coppe tongihst 

Seungmin: You saw Robby? Where are you? 

You: Howd youy knsow he wassss Adny? 

Seungmin: y/n just tell me where you are so I can get you home safe and we’ll talk tomorrow when you’re sober. 

You: You sate me I know syous do You ahte me I dinsdt’ wrire it Min 

Seungmin: I DON’T hate you y/n please tell me where you are 

You: the bar... 

You: Lousie’ 

Seungmin: Louie’s bar? Stay there I’m coming to get you. 

You: mkayy 

Seungmin jumped in his car and sped all the way to Louie’s bar. When he got there, he started looking for you everywhere. You weren’t by the bar or the shitty makeshift dance floor, not by the pool tables. Then he saw you slumped over passed out in a booth. He hurried over and started trying to wake you up. 

“y/n come on wake up, can you hear me?” You hummed and attempted to open your eyes. 

“I hear you Minnie...” He helped you up and by helped it was more like heaved you upright in the booth. All your body weight went against Seungmin’s and he struggled a bit. 

“You’re gonna have to help way more y/n I can’t drag you all the way to the car.” You nodded and leaned into whisper into his ear, your breath smelled like whatever sweet concoction you’d been drinking to get this hammered. 

“I’ve got a secret Min cm’here.” He leaned in close so that you could tell him and he could get you out of there. 

“The first time you changed my name to Chu Bokka in the yearbook was kinda funny...” He smiled a little and shook his head. 

“It was never funny, it was mean and I shouldn’t have done it. Now come on help me out here a bit.” Even drunk, you were surprised to hear him say that. When he put your arm around his shoulder you managed to plant your feet and help him stand and steady you. 

“Think you could walk?” You nodded and the room started getting spiny. You stumbled quite a bit but Seungmin got you to his car and inside. When he got in he looked over at you and you were already slumped over again asleep. He reached over to buckle your seat belt and you hugged him out of no where. 

“Please don’t hate me an’more... I don’t hate you...” He shooshed you. 

“I already told you y/n, I don’t hate you. Get some rest, I'll get you home.” You laid back in the seat again and took a deep breath relaxing and dozing off again. Seungmin sighed and shook his head before heading towards your parent’s house. When he pulled up it was dark and your folk’s car wasn’t there. He gently shook you to wake you up. 

“Hey y/n... is someone home?” You shook your head. 

“Nnnoo, itsss why I went out, momndad are gone for the week’nd” He started grabbing at your pockets looking for your keys and you tried to pull him closer and kiss him. He stopped you. 

“y/n no stop, you’re wasted.” You pouted and he finally found your keys. He helped you out of the car, once he got you to your front door, he made you lean against the door frame while he unlocked it. When he grabbed you to steady you again and get you inside, you tried to kiss him again. He pulled away. 

“I told you to stop that, now come on y/n” He was a little exasperated with you but drunk you thought he didn’t love you. Your eyes got big and teary and you sniffled. 

“It’s ruined, Robby, Andy whoever the fuck he is ruined us.” Seungmin shook his head. 

“No he didn’t you’re just drunk, we’ll talk about everything when you’re sober, I promise.” You allowed him to lead you to your room.  

“Will you stay?” You were still crying, sniffling. He didn’t want to leave you alone with your parents gone.  

“If you behave, I will stay.” You nodded and half heartedly wiped at your tears. Seungmin sat you on the edge of your bed. 

“Where’s your pajamas?” You started unbuttoning your pants and Seungmin quickly turned away. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” You kicked your pants off and pulled your shirt up over your head tossing it too. 

“I sleep naked.” Seungmin pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. 

“Not tonight you don’t, not if I’m sleeping in the bed. Now what drawer are your pajamas in?” He walked over to your dresser refusing to look in your direction. 

“Top.” He opened the top drawer and fished out some shorts and a tank top. He held them back for you to grab. You pulled the pajamas on and laid back in your bed exhausted. Seungmin climbed in and pulled the covers over the both of you. As soon as he was laid back your arms found his and hugged it close while you buried your face in his shoulder. He looked down at you and pushed a little hair away from your face. He shook his head and laid back closing his eyes. 

When the sun came through your bedroom window you cursed yourself for not closing your curtain. How could you have pulled such a rookie mistake and forget that when you drank last night. You knew damn well the sun came in that window early. Then you started to think a bit more clearly. The last thing you remembered was being at the bar. How the hell did you even get home, nevermind the curtain. When you turned someone else in the bed turned to and you sat up quickly screaming. Seungmin woke up immediately thinking something was wrong and quickly realized why you were screaming. When you realized it was Seungmin in your bed you stopped screaming but you weren’t any less upset or confused. Then all excitement and screaming caught up with you. 

“Oh fuck move I’m gonna get sick!” You ran him over and to the bathroom, managing to make it to the toilet before puking. He sleepily walked in behind you rubbing his eyes. After you were done evacuating anything that was left in your stomach you sat back catching your breath. You looked up at Seungmin who was standing there waiting for you to be okay. You could at least somewhat process that you just woke up with Kim Seungmin in your bed now. You asked the first question that entered your mind. 

“Did... uh... did we...” Seungmin shook his head no immediately 

“Oh hell no!” You gave him a shitty look. 

“Not like that! I mean you were drunk as fuck, I’d never, we’d never... you know, if you were that drunk.” You nodded softly, understanding what he meant. 

“Well... I uh... I don’t really remember much of last night.” He nodded. 

“I’m sure you don’t. I’ve never seen you like that before.” You were a little embarrassed. 

“Seungmin... why are you here? Why are you being so nice to me?” He sighed heavily. 

“Why don’t you wash up and I’ll explain everything over some toast and coffee.” You nodded agreeing. 

“Okay, I’ll be quick.” He bowed and backed out, closing the door. After you showered and brushed your teeth thoroughly, you snuck off to your room and got dressed quickly. When you walked out you found Seungmin starting a pot of coffee. He stopped when he saw you. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t sure where everything was.” You shook your head. 

“No it’s fine I’ll make the toast. Do you still like honey on it?” Seungmin’s heart fluttered. 

“You remember that? I haven’t had honey on my toast in I don’t know how long...”  

“Oh okay I won-” He stopped you. 

“No no! Please put some on.” You smiled a little and made the toast, drizzling a little honey on Seungmin’s and yours. You both sat at the kitchen table across from each other sipping coffee and eating your toast in silence. After a minute you couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Seungmin...” He nodded; he knew. 

“Okay yea so last night you text messaged me after you ran into Robby Hobbs.” That part started coming back to you. 

“Oh my god yea! He’s Andy Cope!” Seungmin nodded.  

“Yea I know, one of my baseball buddies had told me when we were kids but Robby had moved away already and I just forgot.” Then you remembered what Robby said he told Seungmin. 

“Min... I... I didn’t write that note. Why on earth would you believe such a thing? You were my best friend. Why didn’t you just tell me?” Seungmin looked down at his cup of coffee. “ He shrugged 

“It looked like your handwriting and it was easier for me to believe that at the time than it was to believe you cared about me. Robby threatened me also but after he left, I was just a hurt kid that took it out on the one person that meant the most to me. I’m sorry for everything I ever did to you y/n. I am.” You reached across the table and squeezed his hand. 

“I’m sorry too. For not listening, for not giving you a chance to explain things. If I hadn’t been so pig headed...” Seungmin shook his head. 

“I’d done a lot to make you say no, I understand.” His other hand came to rest on top of yours. 

“Maybe we can start over?” Seungmin suggested and you smiled brightly. 

“I would love that.” After coffee and toast Seungmin decided it was probably time for him to leave. You walked him to the door and just before he went to leave you kissed his cheek. 

“Thank you for getting me home safely.” He nodded. 

“Any time.” You spent the rest of the break from school getting to know each other again. You picked up where you’d left off like it had just been the day before. When break was over you traveled back to college together. School kept you both busy but you always made time for each other, whether that was a lunch, a dinner, coffee before class, you found time. 

Tonight you had a k drama night. The plan was to binge as many episodes as possible of your favorite show. You were well into the fourth or fifth episode that night. You were tucked up under Seungmin’s arm your legs stretched out on the couch. You started looking up at him out of the corner of your eye, when he noticed he smiled and then looked down at you. You didn’t even care that you were caught staring, he was so beautiful and you loved him so much. He leaned down kissing you and you crawled up onto his lap, straddling him as you opened your mouth and deepened the kiss. Seungmin’s hands rested on your hips and yours were threaded through his hair as you made out, grinding against each other. You broke away panting, needing to take a breath. Seungmin pressed his forehead against yours as he caught his breath as well. 

“Will you stay tonight?” He looked at you, his thumb tracing the apple of your cheek. 

“You’re sure?” You nodded biting at your lips. 

“I am. I want you to stay, please?” You pecked his lips once, twice, three times and he shook his head. 

“Let’s go to bed baby.” You crawled off Seungmin’s lap and he clicked the tv off as you both walked towards your bedroom. You shut and locked your door and suddenly Seungmin was right behind you, arms wrapped around you, his face buried in your hair. 

“Afraid your parents might catch us?” You giggled and shook your head as you spun around in his arms. He kissed you and you started to back him towards your bed. He pulled his shirt off and then yours and you both took in the other’s bare skin. 

“Fuck you’re beautiful.” He managed to finally get out before crashing his lips into yours again. Seungmin crawled back on your bed and you climbed on top of him straddling his lap. You sat up and unhooked your bra tossing it aside. When Seungmin saw your bare breasts, his hands slid up your body to cup them and pinch your nipples. You let out a breathy little moan. You couldn’t take it anymore, you needed him. You got off him long enough to get your pants and panties off. You unbuttoned and pulled at his pants, he lifted his hips helping you get them and his underwear off. You climbed on top of him again and lined his tip up with your aching sex. The moan that came out of Seungmin as you slid down his cock was sinful. When he was fully inside you, you leaned over and kissed him then rolled your hips. 

“You feel so good Minnie.” You whispered against his lips and he nodded taking a couple deep breaths. 

“God so do you baby, you feel fucking amazing!” You sat up and braced yourself on Seungmin's chest. He gripped your hips again and you started riding him slowly. 

“Yes just like that baby, so good.” You rolled your hips against his. Seungmin started rocking your hips back and fourth faster, your clit pressing and rubbing against his pubic muscle. Your legs started shaking, you could feel your orgasm building.  

“S-Seungmin! I’m... I’m so c-close.” He moaned and kept you moving against him. 

“Cum for me y/n! Let me see that pretty face you make when you lose yourself.” The combination of his cock being buried deep inside you and the stimulation to your clit sent you on a round trip to an oasis of pleasure. Your whole body felt like it was vibrating. When you came back down, you leaned down and kissed Seungmin, soft lips slotted against the others. Seungmin sat up with you still in his lap holding your face and devouring your lips. 

“Bend over for me baby.” You crawled off of his lap, grabbed the headboard and bent over. Seungmin knelt behind you, gripped your ass and pushed his cock deep inside you again. He started a steady pace snapping his hips against your ass. 

“Deeper Min deeper!” He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you up, your back flush with his chest. One hand gripping a breast and the other teasing your clit as he grinded into you deep and hard. Your arms reaching back and wrapping around his head, your hands tugging at his hair. You could feel the mercury rising again. Your sweaty bodies pressed together, gripping each other as you teetered towards mind shattering bliss. 

“God you feel perfect, made for me beautiful, cum with me baby.” He thrusted deep inside you again and you went ridged, your back arching as you came again, hard. 

“Yesyesyes oh god...” A soft moan left Seungmin as he wrapped his arms around you tightly and came deep inside you, you were still braced against the headboard, Seungmin resting against your body as his cock softened inside you. After a minute of catching your breath both of you laid down. You laid there with your head on Seungmin’s chest quietly basking in the body buzz after that amazing orgasm. 

“Do you want to have kids?” Seungmin’s question came out of nowhere. 

“I’m on the pill Minnie.” He realized how out of left field that must have seemed. 

“No I mean like one day, do you want to have kids one day?” You thought about a little piece of you and Seungmin running around wreaking havoc. 

“Yea I think I do.” He smiled and squeezed you tighter. 

“Me too... but... well... how will we explain our story?” You smiled up at him and pushed his hair away from his face. 

“Easy, we’ll tell them the truth...” Seungmin’s face scrunched up confused by what you meant. 

“The truth?” You nodded, kissed his lips and hummed. 

“MMhmm...that it turned out, the enemy of my enemy was my friend.” 

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

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[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

harry potter timeline sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (see full series here)

1993

The school year draws to a close, with the school still chattering away about Sirius. You spend it relatively simply, teaching the last of your classes and then finally handing out end-of-year exam results. You're glad to see Hermione gets an almost perfect score — and Ron and Harry do...well, they do okay. You make a mental note to start buckling down on their incessant chatting during class.

You also spend it full of worries. Your every waking moment seems to be consumed with thoughts about Sirius. He's out there, all alone, on the run — you can't imagine how he's feeling right now. It ties knots in your stomach. You just want to grab and hold him, caress his soft, smooth skin, run your hands through his silky curls —

You miss him.

You sit in your compartment on the Hogwarts Express, flicking through the latest edition of The Quibbler. It's quite a unique little publication, very quirky. Luna Lovegood, one of your second years — her dad is the editor, so you decided to pick up the magazine after she recommended it to you once.

You're currently skim-reading a very in-depth article about some sort of creature called an 'epippinpor', when the door to your compartment slides open and Harry pokes his head inside.

"Harry!" you greet. "Need something?"

He holds out a folded piece of parchment, smiling. "Padfoot."

You take the parchment from him as he leaves, closing the door again. You beam excitedly, throwing down The Quibbler and pulling the parchment into your lap. Dubh gets up and starts to sniff the parchment curiously and you giggle, full of giddiness like you're a young teenager again.

My darling love,

I hope you get this before you've left Hogwarts, otherwise it may be quite some time before this letter reaches you. I decided to put your letter in with Harry's, because I'm sure your post is being monitored.

Buckbeak and I are in hiding, so you don't need to worry. I have so many questions to ask you, so many things to tell...I guess they'll just have to wait. I miss you, my love, just like you miss the stars during the daytime.

I hope I haven't lost my romantic flair.

Also, you're a professor now? Very professional, Professor Black. I suppose it does have a pretty sweet ring to it. And Astronomy, too? I'm still your favourite star, right?

You snort, rolling your eyes. Typical. You can just imagine his face when he wrote that: signature smirk, maybe a wink.

Can I get a kiss for that when we reunite again?

Typical!

I wish I could be with you this summer. At our home. Also...do you have a cat? I thought I saw you with a cat. Come on, love, we are obviously a dog home!

I miss you so much. I miss your voice, your warmth, your beautiful face, your kisses. Especially the last one. It's not easy to go twelve years without a single kiss...even if the Dementors offered me several. I love you with all of my heart. If you need me for anything, Harry's owl will find me. All my love, Sirius. P.S. I love you. I can't wait to see you again.

You smile at the letter, eyes tracing the edges of his scratchy handwriting. Your stomach is full of fluttering butterflies and it really does feel like you're a schoolgirl again. You re-read the letter several times, smiling especially wide when he says he loves you or compliments you.

No, Sirius. You didn't lose your romantic flair. Not one bit.

You reach out to pet Dubh, still holding the letter in your hand.

Maybe next year will be a little different.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

"Here you go," you say, handing Remus his cup of tea. He accepts it, careful not to spill a drop, and gives you a grateful smile.

"Thanks."

"So, any news?" You ask, pulling your legs up onto the couch and folding them in beside you as you look at the man in front of you. You're sitting in your living room, a wonderfully cosy little room, warmed by soft rays of August sunshine. There's green plants dotted around, and the walls have photos and beautiful paintings decorating it. There's even a few of Remus' original paintings up there!

One big hobby of Remus' is painting, though he is very secretive about it. He paints beautiful landscapes and still-lifes...it calms him.

One particular painting catches your eye. You had once asked him to paint you a nice, simple picture of pottery. A jug, a bowl, a plate...just general pottery works. It's quite nice.

Remus shrugs. "Nothing really since last we spoke. How are your parents?"

You stayed with your parents last week. Dubh had been put into Remus' care, as she always is, and she always comes back a little fatter than before because Remus is a big softie.

"They're grand, yeah," you reply with a shrug. "I told them everything that happened and honestly they were pretty nonchalant about it all, you know how they are...Mam thought I was very stressed and made me one of her special herbal teas and honestly, it was amazing. Felt young again."

"You are young," Remus says with a sigh.

"Sure don't feel it," you say bitterly. "Could do with a dose of that special tea every morning."

"So this tea isn't special?" Remus asks, gesturing to the cup in his hand.

"Not at all," you reply with a short chuckle. "I asked her what she puts in it, and she said it was an 'age-old secret only passed down when the last generation has ceased and the next lives on'. She's lying, of course, she's only saying that to be mysterious. I'm beginning to think that it's just the placebo effect."

Remus nods thoughtfully. "I think I'm going to trust your mother's words and say it is an age-old secret."

"Suck up."

He raises his mug and gives you a mocking smile. You sigh.

"And," you continue, "Dad took me to the muggle cinema, and we seen this film called 'Mrs Doubtfire'. Moony, when I tell you I sobbed — Merlin, muggles sure know how to make an emotional impact. I'm beginning to think that truly, wizards aren't better than muggles because they get to have cool films and we don't. It's unfair, really, if you think about it."

"'Mrs Doubtfire'? What was it about?" Remus asks.

"A woman called Mrs Doubtfire, obviously," you say and he rolls his eyes. "But turns out it's not actually a woman, it's this guy whose wife divorced him and can barely see his kids, so he pretends to be their babysitter and puts on a wig and a mask and fake tits and everything — "

"And that made you cry?"

"It was emotional! Then he gets caught and can only see the kids with someone supervising the visits! Isn't that sad, Moony? It's much sadder in the movie."

He raises his eyebrows, humming in weak agreement. "Right."

You scoff, sighing. "Anyway...Quidditch World Cup is coming up! And guess who's going?"

"You? No way, how did you get tickets?" Remus asks in shock.

You grin. "Minerva McGonagall, the gem that she is! Sent me a letter yesterday morning. Said she happened upon two tickets and asked me to go with her."

"I didn't know the two of you were such good friends."

You shrug. "Sometimes it can be a bit odd because she used to be my teacher, y'know — but she's such fun to be around. I mean, I've told you before that we have tea together sometimes."

He nods thoughtfully. "Mhm, yes, I remember."

"Anyway, I'm really looking forward to it! I wish I could bring you with me," you say with a small apologetic smile.

Remus waves you off. "It's a full moon. I daresay I might steal the spotlight off the teams if I attend."

You laugh. "That may be so."

→ all kinds of interaction are appreciated ♡

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

→→ read chapter fourteen here!

sorry for the extra-short chapter...just wanted to draw this year to a close. Goblet of fire next!!!

as always, a big thank you to my taglist loves for all their amazing kindness and support:

@wholelottalove05 @izuoyarmin @hyperspeedo @carpe000diem

[aetlasx]

prologue

pair: eddie munson x witch!reader

summary: Ah, memories. You journal your first day of high school, but things quickly take a turn just a few weeks later.

tw: menstruation, pad/tampons, bullying, name calling (pls lmk if there’s anything I missed)

a/n: just stick with me lol. he’ll be in the first part. Also, this is an AU!! For spooky season!! thank you so much for reading!!

*the chat font is the diary entry and it goes back to normal at the end*

August 22nd, 1983 It's been a few months since i've written in this thing. I thought it'd be a good time to start now since I finally made it to high school!

You know what that means? Four more years till I leave this shithole!! Better than five. June was actually waiting by the door when I got home, she really wanted to hear every detail of how it went. I told her about my classes, I have Jonathan in two and Nancy in several. I told her how the school and people were so different from anything I was used to. But, it doesn't take her long to find something wrong with the way I think. She started with her usual warnings and advice, all the things I need to avoid, all the mistakes I shouldn't make. I know she's just trying to protect me, but it feels like she can never have trust in her little sister.

On the other hand, at least Teddy asked if I had fun. He's always been the one who knows how to lighten the mood, especially knowing how his wife is. He asked about my teachers and any clubs that looked cool enough to join. He even asked about Jonathan and Nancy.

Jonathan was definitely not as excited as me. He's quite, but he's always been that way.I know that his mom was excited for his first day of high school, she even convinced him to bring his camera. Right now, I'm trying to convince him to join the newspaper but he just shrugs me off. And Nancy, well, although it's been one–girl is practically glow. Within just 8 hours of the school day, she was able to meet a boy. She kept gushing about him and is pretty excited for the rest of the school year here. I'm genuinely happy for her.

Before June could add her two cents, I interrupted her with how I stopped by Aunt Claudia's after school to see how Dustin's day went. He was already sprawled out on the couch, 'exhausted' from fighting with his new math teacher. It had been a bit since I had seen them, I slaved away my summer at my job so stopping by, I felt grateful that they weren't even mad. I'll have to start hanging out with him again.

Anyways, I’m determined to make the most of freshman year with my friends. I’m ready to prove that I’m more than just a product of this stupid town.

Wish me luck!!

September 16th, 1983

I think I lied. I don’t know where to start…but a four year wait is too long. I don’t know where it all went wrong but it started over the weekend.

Sometimes I’d like to think that if my mom was still around, this wouldn’t have happened. Hell, June is like my mom, why did it happen. I’m talking about mother nature’s gift. It seemed as though no on thought to inform me that a girls first period would be this chaotic.

Nance and I had a movie night planned. I hadn’t really talked to her much, only in class, because her new boy toy or whatever—Steve Harrington, was taking up most of her time. I thought this would be a good time to just catch up and gossip, I was wrong. That Friday was horrible. I ended up throwing up, getting the chills, my body ached to no end. But I was still determined to make movie night happen, especially since June and Teddy were gone for the weekend.

As I was dying on the couch, Nancy finally showed up. But to my disappointment, it was only to cancel. Her and Steve were going out on their first date. I don’t know if it was how hot I was feeling or my intestines twisting, but black spots started clouding my vision. I just remember her screaming for Steve and once I knew it, I woke up in the hospital.

What I’m about to write, I’ll say with confidentiality…probably because I’m the only one reading this. Whatever.

A period is probably normal for all females. What’s not normal is having to go to the hospital and having your best friend’s boyfriend make fun of you because the doctor called you a late bloomer. I mean, she apologized but, if I could’ve just died on that bed, I wouldn’t be here.

Even June lectured me when I interrupted her weekend getaway. The whole ride home she kept complaining and saying ‘how could I not know’ and ‘you just gave us another unnecessary bill’. Like, sorry my baby’s natural response has ruined something for you.

Fuck. That’s not even the worst part. When Monday came back around, everyone was looking at me when I walked in. I know how cliche it sounds after what had just happened but knowing how popular Harrington was and who his friends were, he had already told the whole school by now. During gym, Carol and a few other girls threw pads and tampons at me. I got called ‘Bloody Mary’ and ‘Leak Freak’ in the hallways, at lunch, and anytime anyone had the chance. I tried to stay strong, I even hoped Nancy would say something to me during class or at least when she saw me but she just looked at me with sympathetic eyes. It’s just hard to believe that a few weeks ago, everything was fine. We were making fun of our teacher, gossiping with Barb, and even went shopping but I guess things change. Now when I look at her I’m just consumed with rage.

Jonathan has been supportive, though. The evening I got out of the hospital, he had actually brought over some of my favorite snacks and listened to me cry all night. Even when the mocking was bad, he’s stuck by my side. He’s told some kids to fuck off, walks me to class, and I’m grateful, don’t get me wrong but knowing that I have to wake up and go through it again doesn’t really ease my pain.

I feel like my chances of making friends and actually joining some clubs are ruined. When I try talking to some new, they give me dirty looks. When I go to ask about different clubs, they turn me away. I’ve lost hope. Thought this was suppose to be a fresh start but I guess not.

And just to add more salt to the wound, I haven’t been able to sleep. Every time I close my eyes and drift to away, I’m met with such an unsettling environment. The atmosphere is thick, groggy, red. It’s coated in fog, but a man I’ve never seen before always walks through it. He says his name is Henry, he starts talking about my worries and pain. It’s always the same—he says he’s ‘there to help me’, he’s there to ‘take away the pain because he knows what it’s like’. I truly don’t know what has caused my subconscious to create things like this but I guess I’m just tired of feeling like shit.

I don’t even know why I bother keeping a journal around. Sometimes I feel like I won’t even be here in the future to reminisce on the shitty days like this. Why would I even? I guess it’s just easier to write these things down than having to say them out loud. I thought I’d be able to make my sister, aunt, cousin, and friends proud, but I’m starting to think I’m just not cut out for this.

Closing the diary, the blonde places it back in the shoebox you hid it in. Pushing it back under your bed, standing from the place he sat. A satisfied smirk on his face.

He’d been following your turmoil closely, knowing that this was just the turning point. Your struggles were feeding into his plans. This entry was straw that broke the camels back—your vulnerabilities, your fears, and your desperations. It was almost too easy.

“Your suffering is almost poetic,” Henry said to himself, walking out of your room, your house, determined to take action now. He planned to finally confront you, to force you to acknowledge the full extent of what your destiny could be with his help—with what he had to offer.

[lowkeyremi]

HE'S TROUBLE ✧ Atsumu x fem!reader

Summary: Starting fresh is never that easy and here you are starting a new school year as a freshman in college. Frat boy Atsumu is determined to make your life all the harder, because why the hell not? Will you make it to the end of your first year without losing your shit?

Content: Implied black female reader but anyone can read (reader wears a scarf/bonnet to bed), swearing, the miya twins have a little sister. (divider)

WC: 2k words

ONE - MOVING IN (Chapter Masterlist)

Reality finally hit you when it turned July 29th. You’ve graduated high school and now you’re going to college. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the college on the top of your list but it was the third option, which in your opinion is still pretty good considering some people don’t even get into any of the colleges of their choosing.

Now your only issue is packing. You’ve been procrastinating all summer, hanging out with friends, playing video games, and doing other random little things you like to do. You have not packed a single box– or bought any boxes for that matter.

Your mother has been urging you to at least start on the little things so you can get something done. Of course you’d blow her off with the idea of ‘I can do it later’.

August is approaching fast and your dorm move in day is August 16th. That gives you two weeks and four days to get everything you want to take with you packed and into your dorm. After that, classes start on the 21st.

Are you nervous? Just a little of course. It'll be weird not seeing family everyday, having your phone taken away because of something stupid you'd done, or being asked to drive your cousins/siblings somewhere. As a college student you'll be expected to manage yourself and get up for classes and what not.

It sucks that seniors get the first pick for classes. Freshmen are last on the list meaning you get the scraps. It's okay though, at least you're taking the essential classes, right?

"[name]! Have you started packing anything yet? I bought you some containers and vacuum seal bags!" Your mother yells from the living room.

"Uhhh..." She's bound to be upset, it's obvious. She asked you to start packing like last week– or was it the week before that?

"I'm packing right now!" Why did you say that? Now she's going to come and check for herself. With haste you begin to spread things across your floor to make it look like you're packing stuff. Clothes, shoes, jewelry, decor, stationery, anything in your line of view is tossed on the floor- in a neat pile of course.

When you look up you meet your mother's eyes and her look is skeptical, doubtful even, she can tell you probably hadn't been packing.

"Mhm... have you looked at that list I sent you? The one with the essentials." Your eyes meet the stuff in her hands then her face once more.

"Will you be mad if I say no?" The sound of soft laughter fills your room. Your mom joins you on the floor, giving a good look to everything on your floor. "Oh what am I going to do with you? For years it was 'I can't wait to move out and go to college.' and now that the time has come you haven't even started packing yet."

"Yes I have! Do you not see the stuff I have out?"

"Girl bye, I am not stupid. I know you just threw this stuff on your floor before I came in here."

"Okayyyy you got me." You raise your hands in defense your mother starts to organize the stuff on your floor.

"It can be a little scary, but you'll get used to it. If you ever have any trouble.. call me. I fight kids." That statement lightens your anxiousness to pack a little bit. The fact that she's actually serious makes it all the more comforting.

"Okay.. I want at least, half your stuff packed by tonight. Your move in day is a little over two weeks from now. That time is gonna fly by and knowing you; you'll want to get some more goodbyes in before you leave." She's right of course, if there was a president of 'waiting until the last minute' it might've just been you.

"I'll get it done. I promise!"

"Is this everything?" Your mother asks looking at both her car and yours. They're packed to the brim with all your things: bedding, boxes of clothes, your small TV, decor, and other things that may not have a use as of right now. At this point it would have been better to rent a small moving truck.

"Uhh.. I'll go check one more time, but I think it is." In order to move things along faster your siblings (or cousins) decided to tag along to help with the moving process. There's a little space in both cars to fit them comfortably without being pulled over... you assume.

When you make it upstairs to check your room, you ultimately decide on not even walking in. Even though your bed, dresser, and some of your posters are hanging up the room feels empty, void of life. It's going to be a lot getting used to your new living conditions, but no one forced you to go to college. It was your own choice.

"Take care of my room for me, okay?" You'd ask no one in particular. Hesitation fills your body when closing the door to your old room, it'll only be a few months until you see it again, fall break. Your youngest sibling or cousin stampedes up the stairs, "Hurry up [name]!! we don't wanna be late!!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming. Let's get on the road."

Your first thought is that this school is huge, and well duh of course it is.. it's a college campus. It's nothing like the little high school you went too. Your second thought is that there are a lot of people too.

People of all kinds of backgrounds; you realize. People come from all over the world just to go to school here which seems a little crazy but in reality it's not in the grand scheme of things.

All you family members are helping you haul your stuff up to the second floor where your dorm is. Since you are a freshman you're getting a dorm in one of the older buildings while seniors can rent out school apartments and what not. It's only the beginning, you'll reach that level some day, but for now, this is your life.

Your RA is a young woman probably around 8-10 years older than you are. A kind lady with a welcoming face. She's a bit on the shorter side, but her face also gives you the impression that she is not one to mess with.

"Good morning! You must be a new resident. Can I please get a name and an ID?" A polite nod is sent her way while you search your bag for your school ID. The trip across campus to get your ID was certainly worth it, if you hadn't gotten it before hand you would have had to walk back and get it.

The woman walks you through everything, tells you where everything is and the policies of the dorms, even though you already knew them because they had you read them online and accept them. Minutes later a key was placed in your palm, excitement and nervousness welling up in your body.

"This is it, baby. Time to see your room!" Your mom sounds a little too excited to see your dorm and she says it's because you'll be out of her house but you know she'll miss you.

It was the moment of truth when you reached your door. With no haste at all you placed the key into the lock and slowly turned it in the way that unlocks it. You pushed the door open with your leg because there was a box in one of your arms. Once you could move the box from your face you got a nice look at your room.

Definitely small... it looks pretty bland. Well, at least your side of the room does. Your roommate, Emily, had already moved her stuff in a few days prior to you and she's not here at the moment.

"Cute little room." Your mom snickers your way. When she isn't looking you roll your eyes in fake annoyance. She's most definitely making fun of you. It's not like she has room to talk though, you'd seen her dorm in pictures that she took with her roommates.

The move in was smooth. Stuff was once again everywhere. It was hard making choices of what goes where. Your family spent a little bit of time with you before they were on the road again to go back home.

You can't even lie you started missing them the second they pulled out of the parking lot. It's different, very different. Emily bursts through the door pulling you out of your sorrowful thoughts. Upon seeing her for the first time you can kind of tell she's the 'life of the party'.

"HIIII ROOMIE!!! YOU ARE SO CUTE AHHHH!! I was scared I'd end up with an ugly or weird roommate. Thank God they put me with someone cool though." She's also a chatterbox.. which you are one too but not upon first meetings.

A giggle falls from your lips at her words, you like her already, "How can you tell I'm cool if you don't even know me?"

"Trust me, I know cool people when I meet them. Sooooo do you wanna go get dinner? I was hanging out with some people I met in order to give you some time to settle in." She also seems to be considerate. The two of you will get along just fine. All your worries start to fade away as Emily talks your ear off.

The first couple days of school were nothing like you thought they'd be. When classes were over you immediately crashed in bed when you got back to your dorm. Waking up and trying to actually get ready without your mom telling you to hurry up was hard.

You managed to arrive two minutes before your first lecture but the way those seats were packed made you feel like you were late. You ended up sitting all the way in the back with some girl who had chocolate colored eyes.

Ever since then she's decided to buddy up with you. She always saves you a seat because she somehow is pretty early. Her name is Emi, you learn. Emi Miya. When your professor starts to get boring Emi will tell you stories about her crazy older brothers. You've never met them but you've heard a lot about them. Specifically a lot about the older one, Atsumu.

Three weeks into school Emi invites you to eat lunch with her at this cute little brunch place she's been frequenting. Of course you said yes because honestly you had nothing better to do. Most days you would buy lunch and take it back to your building and eat it in your dorm or one of the common areas.

Emi is so easy to talk to, which you like about her. Sometimes you can be a 'I won't talk to you unless you talk to me' kind of person so you like people like Emi who make socializing easy.

As the two of you are walking to the brunch place Emi strikes up easy conversation, "Soooo do you have a boyfriend?" Her eyebrows wiggle, causing you to laugh a little bit at her silliness.

"Nah, I haven't really met someone I can connect with. All my crushes in high school were just guys I was physically attracted to." Her eyes widen at your statement and she quickly comes to a full stop.

"No way! I thought you would for sure have a boyfriend, but your reasoning is valid. I guess that kinda makes you like a forbidden fruit, huh?" A cheeky smile is painted across her face, she knows something you don't.

"What do you mean by 'forbidden fruit'?" Genuine curiosity courses through your body as you match her steps.

"Well this little group of guys came up to me before you got to the lecture yesterday and asked me if you were single." She's kidding.. she has to be. Well maybe not.. you're attractive of course, and those boys probably just want what you can give them rather than a genuine relationship.

"Yeah well... they probably just want sex, you know?" She nods in agreement, "Which is why I told those boys you have a boyfriend. Just looking out for you."

"Thank you, Emi." The restaurant is in view now so the two of you fall into a comfortable silence.

Well what do you know? Maybe this won't be as bad as you thought it would be. It's a lot to adjust to but you've got it figured out.... for right now at least.

note: second chapter will be more interesting. you meet tsumu for the first time!! I hope you guys enjoyed this little intro chapter. i'm excited to see where this story takes us :3

taglist: @luvly-writer @bugglesboop @vleathers67 let me know if you want to be tagged!!!

[i-eat-boyz]

Hear me out!

Sugar Baby Oliver Quick

As in highschool Oliver is completely friendless, horny with no outlet in a stifling house. He goes out and drinks usually tucked into the corner of the pub turning his oh so blue and wanting puppy eyes on anyone who gets too close. He notices a trend usually of older women (or men from time to time) are his best bet. He always seems to fumbled when they're closer to his age.

They tutter over him.

What beautiful eyes.

Much to pretty to be all alone.

I was young once I do so miss it and enjoy it while you can.

It's cold tonight let me drive you.

My place isn't far.

They like to be manhandled with all his youthful strength. They like to be craved by his young lustful eyes. To be begged on knees that don't creek.

So he does; gives them exactly what they want. How they want it and when. In return they carefully skirt around the topic of age. Always assuming he was a college student. He never corrected them. Sometimes they'd slip a bit extra in with the cab fair.

For school books.

Put it towards your meal plan.

It wasn't this expensive when I was young.

If he did a really good job they would drive him home (dropping him four blocks away by an apartment complex) kiss his cheek and slip a little "pocket change" into his waist band.

Oliver is very intelligent but a little (very) slow on the uptake when it comes to human relations. It's not till the fourth time an older man is sending him off with a peck and some money. Telling him he had a very good time and he was, "Worth every pound" driving off with a wink. Oliver Quick realizes he in his teenage fueled horny blindness has been maybe (most definitely) pimping himself out.

It's a few more times after that when He picked him up. He was a little older than Oliver usually allowed his desperation to allow him. He tutted over him yes, but not like the others.

What beautiful eyes you have.

You're much too beautiful to be here all alone.

How has no one kept you yet?

What delightful lips you have.

Do you know how to use them?

Oliver followed Him home practically floating on a cloud. He let him strip him down then dress him back up again.

Do you like that love?

A pretty little thing dressed in pretty little clothes.

Just for me?

Oliver is panting, foaming at the mouth for it.

Just for you sir.

Oliver is thankful it's the weekend when he opens his eyes to realize it's morning. He's giddy when he's offered breakfast. He must have done a VERY good job then.

Everything is off to the side, love.

How about your eggs ?

I'll have the driver take you then. Much to early for a cab.

You don't have classes do you?

To say Oliver was a little disappointed was to say the least. He had thought he had done a very good job. He gets dressed without a fuss. He wants to decline the ride all together but he knows he's much too far from home for that.

He grabs Oliver's pouting mouth before he heads to the door.

Don't be like that, love. I would very much like to see you again.

Something is placed in Oliver's hand. He doesn't pay attention till after He has taken Oliver's number down. Sent him off with a pec and promised to ring him.

He's halfway home before he opens the envelope he'd been gripping. Written on the back in looping script.

Thank you for such a beautiful time. Please buy yourself something pretty for next time.

Inside more money than all his former companions pocket change put together.

It lasts till the end of the summer before college. He had to get back to his wife and kids with the youngest just starting school and all.

You understand right, love?

Oliver does understand. He does even in their short 5 months together he has learned many things by rubbing shoulders with the elites. By hanging off His arm pretending not to understand a word as socialites giggle a leer and purposely using niche jargon and name obscure artists. Letting others reveal themselves in front of him watching and understanding them.

Oliver understands he is a pretty thing to be wanted to be kept. He refuses to be tossed away again.

[sserajeans]

you are in love | 24. match made in ocean

- gyuthegoofy started a video call.

- ynthesexy, hanthebitch, and wonythemvp joined the call.

audio directory: wonyoung, leehan, gyuvin, y/n

—

"so what are we supposed to be looking at here?"

"the fundraiser proposal.... again."

"someone needs to hold me back before i commit a REAL HEINOUS CRIME against that hagrat excuse of a principal."

"i'm so glad you said that over call instead of text 'cause..."

"shut up."

"wait guys focus please..."

"right sorry."

"i'm using all the brain juice i got i swear but this is so hard."

"right? i have no idea how serenades didnt pass..."

"as much as i'd hate singing around with y/n it was a good idea as a fundraiser. low cost."

"matches the school tradition too. i don't know why so many people confess around christmas time, but it could've worked!"

"for real. hagrat lim."

"you're going down with y/n."

"absolutely not! how could the ever-so-lovely scholar kim gyuvin be disrespectful to his teachers! meanwhile school jock swim captain lee y/n..."

"I'M NOT EVEN A JOCK?"

"we're definitely getting off topic."

"oops..."

"anyways..."

"i think we should definitely stick to something on the romance side. it just sells more?"

"yeah, we can make it a little general for people who wanna do it for friends or family too."

"okay so... romance... romantics... what's something you guys would like to receive?"

"flowers without pollen."

"i laughed a bit i'm sorry."

"jellies!"

"candy could be low-cost, but won't the students feel like they could just buy them from the grocery or the cafeteria?"

"flowers could work. it's quite tiresome to pass by florist shops these days, so having them close by is convenient. sorry, y/n."

"i mean... i guess i'll be fine if i take the medicine before leaving?"

"i'm sorry y/n... we'll keep this as a backup idea so we can continue looking for something better and less... life threatening?"

"it's okay guys i don't mind it as long as principal lim gets off our back."

"we'll think of something else y/n... this'll just be the absolute last resort."

"speaking of flowers and y/n's pollen allergy though..."

"i know where this is going."

"I'M SORRY OKAY.... we just, or i, just wanna know!"

"didn't i tell you already??"

"details, y/n... details!!"

"I ALMOST DIED GYU..."

"LMAO PLEASE..."

"okay so you almost died... DETAILS!!"

"fine..."

"stay strong lee y/n..."

"we went to the cafe after practice, we talked about stuff. started with classes and how she's adjusting to the workload of juniors, then how i'm going around with colleges as an athlete. speaking of which, coach gave me a semi-scolding over text earlier today, but moving on."

"god he dumps the pressure of the swim team's success on you as if he isn't the literal COACH."

"for real like y/n is human too... hello?"

"yeah, then when we got to the cafe we had a mini argument over who was gonna pay but the cashier suggested to pay for our own, so that's what we did."

"you're so... anti-romantic."

"what? what did i do??"

"you're supposed to pay for her regardless, like never back down."

"NEVER BACK DOWN NEVER WHAT?"

"NEVER GIVE UP!!"

"but it was a date that dani asked for, so? kinda cancels out right, wony?"

"hm... i guess.. anyways, continue, y/n."

"well... yeah after i updated wony via text when i was in the toilet, we mostly talked about our interests and stuff. so me and movies, music, and mostly swim."

"90% swim. you might've bored her to death..."

"don't say that!"

"i'm being honest! she might've thought you were a fish in your past life or something..."

"she brought up swim in the conversation first actually! she said she swims a lot whenever she goes back home to australia during the summers."

"well isn't that a lovely surprise? match made in heaven!"

"match made in ocean.."

"she definitely knows how to keep y/n hooked that's for sure."

"oh yeah... great pair in that sense!"

"what were the other interests she talked about?"

"flowers, plants, nature in general! she's so outdoorsy."

"this is so ironic 'cause didn't you almost fail biology?"

"so that's where the park part came from..."

"no i did not almost fail bio... it just simply is my lowest scoring subject okay..."

"whatever you say!"

"but yeah that's when she brought up the park, and i just couldn't say no. she was talking about how this specific flower only bloomed in autumn and she wanted to see it at its first day."

"you didn't bother telling her you had an allergy?"

"she sounded so excited you guys i didn't want to ruin that... and i guess i kinda wanted to see the flowers too, they were really pretty! i'll show you pics."

"you couldn't say no to flowers... so you just put your life at risk instead?"

"i had a mask! and i didn't think it'd react that bad again."

"right."

"so yeah that's all that happened, really."

"sounds like you had a fun enough time to almost kill yourself!"

"OH MAN....."

"YES I DID! okay? i did have a fun time! she's really nice, cute, pretty, outgoing and all. we talked about going to a different nature park to rent bikes next time."

"i'm kicking my feet in the air right now you guys have no idea."

"we do actually."

"and don't bother showing us."

"yeah we can go a day without seeing your feet gyu."

"I DIDN'T EVEN OFFER?"

"you'd do it whether we liked it or not, unfortunately."

"she's right on that... AND DID YOU SAY NEXT TIME?"

"SHE DID!!"

"weren't we supposed to be finishing work so we could be free tomorrow? right we were! isn't that right, wony?"

"but... but that's... fine, yeah."

"wonderful! let's get back to work then!"

masterlist. next.

taglist: @yyeonmis @lostamoeba @jisooftme @yoontoonwhs @awkwardtoafault @kvnii @lcv3lies @limbforalimb @spritin @kaypanaq @i06kkura @manooffline @kimsgayness @justme-idle @jenaissantex @mightymyo @sewiouslyz @txtbrainrot @li0ilthecxnt @captivq @paranoxic @sofakingwoso @daniellobers @pandafuriosa60 @haerinkisser @staryujinnie @wowowowcake @lesleepyyy @haechansbbg @rosiehrs @jiwoneiric