#there's nothing specific. no picture of him obviously

[anghraine]

Can't lie, I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the representation of Kirk in The Wrath of Khan (yes, a great movie in many ways, and internally to the film it's a compelling arc, but—). The film persistently presents Kirk as a man who has refused to truly face death throughout his life thus far, but instead evaded and tricked and outmaneuvered his obstacles in such a way that he only accepts victory and has never had to really contend with death and serious loss.

It's interesting as a character concept and executed well within the film, but the more I think about it, the more absolutely baffled I am by it as an interpretation of James T. Kirk specifically. As a refresher, these are some highlights (by no means exhaustive) from Kirk's life in TOS:

The obvious one: at age 13, Kirk survived starvation and genocide in the colony he lived in to become one of only nine surviving eyewitnesses. He remained markedly grim into young adulthood (Kirk as a very young man is described as severe and somber across multiple episodes). He discovers in the first season that someone has been methodically killing the other survivors of the genocide. Early in the relevant episode, he has already become the eldest of only two remaining eyewitnesses, and spends the whole episode carrying the weight of stopping the murders and remembering enough to finally see justice done (and perhaps avenge the dead).

In S1, he gets stranded in 1930 and falls deeply in love with a principled pacifist/social activist who loves the stars as much as him. He has a very sweet, romantic courtship with her, only to discover that she has to die young to prevent a Nazi hellscape future (it makes sense in context). Kirk desperately hopes they can find another way, but in the end, he faces reality and helps Spock prevent McCoy from saving her life. He ends the episode obviously devastated.

In literally the next episode, he finds the dead body of his brother Sam (his only sibling; Sam, his wife Aurelan, and their young sons were all present to support Kirk when he formally received command of the Enterprise, and he seems quite close to them). Kirk tries to save his sister-in-law and nephews from the same excruciating death that Sam suffered, but they aren't fast enough to save Aurelan and, like her husband, she dies in anguish.

In S2, a fellow starship commander and friend of Kirk's who is grief-stricken after the deaths of his entire crew launches a suicide run at a largely invincible, planet-destroying monstrosity. Kirk begs him, "Matt. Matt, listen to me. You can't throw your life away like this" but fails to convince him.

Also in S2, there's a whole episode about Kirk's intense guilt over an attack he survived at age 23 that killed 200 fellow crewmen and a captain he was devoted to. Kirk has spent the last 11 years believing all of this was the result of a two-second hesitation on his part (records of the time indicate he's wrong, as does the evidence within the episode, but he's so haunted by surviving yet another slaughter that for much of the episode he can't really accept the reality that nothing he could have done would have made a difference).

In another episode, the entire crew of the Enterprise shows up just in time to witness, but not prevent, the deaths of 400 Vulcans. Later, Kirk fully believes Spock has died heroically, and in the midst of disaster, takes care to leave a record of the highest commendation to Spock in case he himself dies.

There's another episode where intergalactic conquerors start transforming Kirk's crew into cubes of salt and they straight up destroy the cube "containing" a dutiful yeoman simply to punish Kirk. His log of the incident concludes: "I can't forget the picture of Yeoman Thompson crushed to a handful of dust."

In one of the various Kirk vs. AI episodes (and in my opinion, the best one), the AI forcibly installed on the Enterprise takes control and through a programming error, ends up wiping out another Starfleet ship with hundreds of people on it. Kirk is horrified and angry, and sets about trying to find some way to keep the AI-supercharged Enterprise from killing the thousand or so other Starfleet crew still out there, even if it means the deaths of many members of his own crew. They have so little power after regaining control that he can't communicate with the other Starfleet vessels, and takes the massive risk to his and his crew's lives of lowering all of the Enterprise's shields to signal peaceful intent.

It's honestly hard to overstate the degree of repeated horrific losses that mark his entire life. The show was designed to not require knowledge from any other episode to watch a current one, so it rarely references specific events in other episodes, and continuity instead tends to come from persistent character traits or development. And for Kirk, one of his most persistent TOS traits is white-knuckling through horrific losses he cannot prevent (and sometimes has to enable) over and over and over again.

J and I talked about it a little, and about ways to try and make some sense out of this characterization ... like, J pointed out that Kirk has endured many horrific losses, but his relationship with Spock specifically is a unique kind of sanctuary in his life and that's something he couldn't face losing. And that's true enough, but it's not really my feeling that this is what WOK is saying at all; this is not presented IMO as a quality of his relationship with Spock individually, but as a major element of his character. He refuses to accept the possibility of losing in general, he says he was always able to trick or maneuver his way out of confronting death and loss (?????????????), etc. The more I think about it, the less sense it makes to me beyond an interpretation of a kind of pop culture-inflected idea of Kirk rather than anything he experienced in TOS.

[thelighttasteslikelasagna]

I once got so down bad that I made a moodboard for this one teacher that I used to have a crush on

[blitzos-horse-ranch]

Something that has always stood out to me (and got me thinking) IRT Blitzø and his true nature underneath all of his sharp edges is this specific scene in Oops:

Here, Blitz is very, VERY badly burnt. Enough to be permanently disfiguring on at least a third of his body. Yeah, Fizz had it worse, but this is still awful and was probably horrifically painful. But he barely seems affected, because his only concern is his mom. We as the audience can't hear what he's saying, but he's clearly calling out to her in this flashback.

Blitz could easily, and understandably, put himself first here. But he doesn't. And it says a lot about him. Take this with several other standout moments in (and upcoming!) the show...

...and you get a really good picture that one of Blitz's core traits is how protective he is of those he loves. A lot of the fandom writes him off as nothing but a selfish asshole that doesn't give a shit about anyone but himself. And as sad and uncharitable as that read of him is, it's also kind of funny because if you actually watch the show it's obviously not the case at all.

Blitz values and is very protective of his loved ones, and if you can't see that you're blind or purposefully ignoring moments like this.

[roosterforme]

Sugar and Lace | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Bradley had a hot wife. He went wild for you in your work clothes and his worn out shirts. You didn't need any bells and whistles to look sexy, and you never would. But now that he knew what you looked like in a little lace, he needed to have that version of you, too.

Warnings: Fluff, adult language, drinking

Length: 3000 words

Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time but it can be read on its own! Check out my masterlist

Bradley looked at Jake over his beer, and Jake looked right back at him. The Hard Deck was virtually empty this early on a Saturday in the middle of the blazing summer heatwave, leaving the two of them very much alone together with their drinks.

"So..." Bradley said, tracing a line through the condensation on his half empty bottle. It wasn't that he disliked Jake. Not really. But he didn't know how many times he could be coerced into hanging out with him for the sake of you having a 'girls day'. It wasn't like he could complain about work to the person who annoyed the shit out of him at work yesterday.

"So..." Jake replied, picking up his drink and chugging it before signaling to Penny for two more. When he turned back, he had a smug little smile on his face that let Bradley know he was about to get annoyed again. "I'm assuming by the way your wife looks and how fucking pussy whipped you are that she has good taste in lingerie?"

Bradley sputtered, almost knocking his bottle off the high top. "Jesus fucking Christ, Hangman. What the hell kind of question is that?" He could feel heat rising in his cheeks at the memory of you prancing around the bedroom last weekend in a lacy tie dye bra and matching boy shorts. Everything you wore was sexy.

"That's obviously what they are out shopping for," Jake drawled, handing the empties to Penny as she dropped off fresh beers. Bradley waved two fingers in a half-hearted salute and then glared at Jake as he added, "Jessica specifically asked your wife to go with her. She told me she's picking out some things for the honeymoon, and you and I both know what that means. They are trying on lingerie." His smirk was back. "Together."

Bradley swallowed hard, digging his fist into his thigh. His teeth were clenched as he said, "Stop picturing my wife in lingerie."

All he got was a jovial laugh in response. "Tell me right now to my face that you're not picturing both of them wearing something tight, cropped and lacy, and I'll stop."

Bradley raked his fingers through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut against the mental image of you and Jessica in a cute little fitting room, laughing together. "God damn it, Hangman!"

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

You and Jessica were crammed into a fitting room together, trying not to laugh at the enormous stacks of cute things to try on. Your pile was on the left side of the decorative bench, and hers was on the right. You knew that Jessica Reed happened to collect lingerie in every color imaginable, but she was on a quest to find some unique things to take on her honeymoon. And you were on a quest to wow your husband with something more than a bra and boy shorts for once. 

Not that he complained. Not that he ever complained. Bradley went absolutely feral for you in your damn work clothes and loafers. He about lost his mind when you wore his ratty, old tie dye tee shirt to bed. He often sounded like he was going to need CPR when you put on his bathrobe and nothing else. It was hard to contain your smile when you just knew that something in this fitting room was going to blow his mind to the point that he would be rendered speechless.

"Try something on," Jessica suggested gently, and you took a step closer to your pile. "Then you'll get a better idea of what you like." 

There was red, green, black, white and pink fabric. There were nightgowns, thongs, bralettes and stockings. When you reached your hand out, you hesitated, confidence wavering. This seemed a lot more challenging than solving a linear algebra matrix.

Jessica whispered, "You'll look beautiful in anything, Advanced Calculus. I can promise you that." When you kind of shrugged in response, she said, "Do you want me to wait in line for my own fitting room so you can have more privacy?"

The two of you already agreed to help each other make selections, and the last thing you wanted was to keep opening the door so everyone else could see you wearing this stuff. "No. It's not that. I just... don't really own anything like this. I mean, I have a few things, but some of this is elaborate." You glanced at her over your shoulder and winced. "And this was supposed to be a shopping trip for you! For your honeymoon! Not for me."

She shushed you and then reached into your pile and pulled out a fairly innocuous looking nightie in a soft champagne color. "Start with this. Then you'll see how hot you look, and it'll be a gateway drug to you starting your own collection that will rival mine."

"I've seen your closet," you muttered, taking the hanger from her and holding the garment up in front of your body. It was pretty. The color even complimented your hair. It was a far cry from what you usually wore to bed, but you'd give it a shot.

When you started to undress, Jessica turned around and played with her phone, which you did appreciate. All of your bumps and lumps would be on display soon enough anyway, but at least you'd have a minute to straighten yourself out. The fabric was cool and slick against your skin, and you shivered as it settled high on your thighs. When you looked in the mirror and turned, you were pleasantly surprised with the result.

"It's not bad," you said, and she looked up and gasped, green eyes wide.

"It's perfect!"

"I wouldn't go that far," you muttered, smoothing your hands along your sides.

"Well, I would. And I'm sure Bradley would, too. Do you want me to take a picture on your phone?" she asked, and you nodded while she posed you with one hand on your hip. "Like I said, perfect," she muttered as she took the photo and then set your phone down again. "Try on something else."

"Okay," you whispered, reaching blindly into your pile and pulling out a black lace corset top.

Jessica jumped up and down and clapped her hands. "I love that one. I picked one up to try it on, too."

"I don't know about this," you said, holding it up in front of the nightie. "Not sure how Beer Boy is going to like it."

"You won't know until you try it on."

With those words of wisdom, you changed from the nightie to the corset, and your immediate thought was how cute this would look under your sweaters and tweed when you were at work. And it would feel amazing. It was snug and sexy, and somehow you felt like you could kick even more ass at work if you were wearing this thing.

"What the hell?" you whispered, and Jessica turned to look at you, clapping her hands once again. "I feel like I have super powers."

"Because you do! Look at you! Please let me take another picture of you to send to Bradley."

This time you posed yourself and turned so your tattoos were visible through the lace cutout on the side. Then you stood there and admired yourself before saying, "I'm definitely buying this. Catch me wearing it to work under my cardigans in the fall."

Jessica started digging into her own pile now as you changed from the corset into a bodysuit, but when she met your eyes in the mirror, she looked like she was going to freak out.

"What?" you asked. "The bodysuit looks that bad?"

She shook her head, and pressed her lips together before almost shouting, "When were you going to tell me you have a math tattoo?"

"Oh," you replied, not sure you'd ever heard her voice reach that octave before. "Euler's Identity? I've had it since I was nineteen."

"I love how you embrace your inner nerd," she said as if she was in awe of you, and you started laughing which made her laugh. "Now send those pictures to your husband and let that man worship you."

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

Bradley had just buried his face in his hands while Jake laughed when his phone went off. You hadn't even bothered to inform him that your little 'girls day outing' was a quest to make sure Jake enjoyed his honeymoon with Jessica. Honestly, Bradley kind of hoped the other man was correct in his assessment that you'd be shopping for something for yourself, too. Not that you needed it. Holy shit, you still looked like the girl he fell in love with over a decade ago whenever you wore his old Grateful Dead shirt or his robe around the house.

But now he wanted something special, too. Why should Jake get to have all the fun when it came to having his partner all wrapped up in a pretty package that was specifically meant to be removed?

"Sugar," he grunted when he saw that you'd texted him. Jake was rambling about something across the table, but Bradley couldn't hear him. He could no longer hear anything. He couldn't process thoughts or form words. All he could do was stare at the two photos you'd sent to him. "Oh, fuck."

In the first one, you were wearing a shimmery light gold colored thing that looked soft. Like maybe almost as soft as your skin. His heart hammered up into his ears as he examined every inch of it on your curves. Your nipples were pebbled against the fabric, and he could practically feel them between his lips. When he swiped to look at the second one, he abruptly stood from his stool with his phone gripped tight in his hand, eyes bugging out.

"Let me guess... your wife sent you photos?" Jake asked, clearly amused.

Instead of verbally responding, Bradley made sure his phone was tipped away from Jake as he zoomed in for a closer look. Holy hell. Your tits were being pushed up in the sexiest black lace he had ever seen. It was sinful, and now he was imagining you wearing it under one of your tweed blazers while giving a lecture. He swallowed hard, realizing he could see the tiniest bit of your tattoos through the little cutout on the side, and he actually whimpered.

"Yeah... she definitely sent you photos," Jake murmured as his own phone chimed. "Oh, Jess just sent me five."

"How did you get five?" Bradley complained, swiping back and forth, desperately looking for more. "I only got two!" 

It was then that he noticed you texted him after you sent the pictures.

What do you think, Beer Boy?

Bradley laughed a bit maniacally. What did he think about the lingerie? Ha! He could barely think at all! He paced back and forth a bit, sweating as he wrote back.

You look fucking hot as hell, Sugar. If you don't bring that black top home, I think you'll break my heart.

Bradley cringed, because now Jake was the one who was whimpering. "They're sharing a fitting room," he whispered, and Bradley's eyes went wide with the realization that Jessica must have taken the photos for you. Then his eyes narrowed as he reached for Jake's phone.

"You better not be able to see Sugar in any of the pictures!"

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

You and Jessica were wearing matching fluffy robes and sorting through everything you'd already tried on.

"You have to get that thing," you told her, pointing to the garters and stockings. "It fits you like a glove."

She nodded and added it to her 'yes' pile. "And you have to get the thong and bustier," she replied.

"I'm already buying four things," you reminded her. The bustier was nice, and your breasts looked good in it, but you didn't love the color very much. Besides, there was one last thing you hadn't tried on for fear of looking or feeling ridiculous, but there was a part of your brain that just knew your husband would love it.

"Missed one!" Jessica said, pulling on the bright pink fabric like she could read your mind. Always the best cheerleader, she held it up in front of your body and nodded. "It's bold, but I think you can pull it off."

You took it from her, but looked at yourself skeptically in the mirror. "I don't know... it's going to look bad. Like I'm trying too hard. I don't know why I even picked it up."

But you did know. Bradley was attracted to you in that dumb tie dye shirt like you were some sort of exotic bird whenever you put it on. All of the bright colors swirled into something that just lured him right to you. Part of it was nostalgia, sure, but you felt like there was something more as well.

"Actually, I do know why I picked it up," you told Jessica, holding the chemise closer to yourself. "Bradley really likes it when I wear his old shirt that I kind of held hostage for ten years. It's vibrant and bright, and I think this is the sort of thing he might enjoy?" You pursed your lips and sighed. "But, maybe I'm wrong, because he also just seems to like me how I am. No frills, you know? He's always been that way."

Jessica smiled. "Yes, I understand. And I hope you realize that you just described a man who is desperately in love with you, not just how you look. Sounds like the kind of man you should spoil a little bit." She tugged gently on the chemise and added, "This is a far cry from a tee shirt, but you won't know how you feel about it until you try it on."

"You're right."

Once you were out of the robe, you pulled the stretchy lace over your body, and gaped at the deep neckline as Jessica tied the satin ribbons around the back of your neck. You hadn't noticed before, but there were some yellow and orange threads woven in, making delicate swirls in the fabric. Almost like a different kind of tie dye. It actually looked stunning on you, and as you turned from side to side, you already knew you had to have it.

"I'm obsessed," Jessica said, bouncing excitedly as she clapped her hands together. "Should I take one last round of photos for you to send to Bradley?"

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

Bradley was lightheaded. He sweat through his shirt, and he had his forehead cradled in his hand as he opened three photos of you wearing something so bright and pink and sexy, he wanted to lick it off of you. Everything was covered up, but barely. In the one shot, he could almost see your ass. In another, he could definitely see your pert nipples. In the other one, he could make out part of your titty tattoos.

It was a good thing Jake was staring at his own phone in amazement, because Bradley was pretty sure he was drooling and incapable of formulating a sentence. He had already written back to you, begging you to buy the pink thing. Telling you he needed it. Letting you know he wanted to peel is slowly off of your body in bed later. In fact, the last thing he sent was 'Buy everything in that whole fucking store, money is no object'. And he meant every word. 

Bradley had been crazy about you for so long, and most of the appeal came from how smart you are and the fact that you weren't fussy. You let him dote on you in your work outfits. You wore his clothing around the house. You didn't need all the bells and whistles to be sexy, and you never would.

But now that he knew exactly what you looked like in black satin and colorful lace, he needed to have that version of you, too. He needed it.

"Since when does your wife have tattoos?"

Those words snapped Bradley out of his lust filled stupor, and his brown eyes bore into Jake's green ones. How did he know about your titty tattoos? When his gaze drifted back to his phone, he turned the screen toward Bradley with a grin. Apparently you had taken a photo of Jessica, in which your reflection was visible in the fitting room mirror. You were wearing a bra, and you were as covered up as you would be for a beach day, but Bradley loathed the idea of Jake having any sort of access to those tattoos.

"Hey!" Jake complained as Bradley snatched the phone and deleted the photo. "What the fuck, Bradshaw? I wanted that picture of Jessica! You could have just cropped it."

"Hey, boys!"

Bradley turned in time to toss Jake's phone aside as Jessica headed through the nearly empty bar with you following behind her. There were two enormous shopping bags in your hands, and you had a smile on your face as you asked, "Ready to go home, Beer Boy?"

"Hell yes," he murmured, closing the distance to your lips and kissing you hard. "Did you buy that pink thing? And the black one?"

His hands wound around your waist possessively, and he got even more excited as you tucked the bags behind your back and whispered, "There's only one way to find out."

Bradley started guiding you to the door. "Yeah. We're going home. Right now." He ran his nose along your cheek and gave you one more sweet kiss before shouting over his shoulder, "Thanks for the beers, Bagman. Oh, and Jessica, I need you to crop your photos better next time you take my wife shopping."

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

I love Beer Boy for making Sugar feel so good about herself every day. She's a badass, and he knows it. I wrote this as a little wedding treat for @je-suis-prest-rachel Congratulations, Rachel! And thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls

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[moonlightcycle571]

All the Batkids have their own favourite Superhero (that’s not Batman), but it comes as a surprise when Damian says his favourite is Captain Marvel.

Captain Marvel, after being put on ‘Robin Watch’ after Batman had to disappear in the Watchtower for whatever reason: so … what do you like to do?

Damian, who vividly remembers Dick telling him to play nice or he’ll tell Batman about the 364 cats he’s fostered with Selina: I … like Cats

Captain Marvel, who has no idea what normal kids do: Oh, me too! My best friend is a talking cat!

Damian, intrigued: … elaborate

Captain Marvel, already showing Damian pictures of Tawny: This is Tawky Tawny, he’s a magic tiger that sometimes live in the Zoo! He’s also my best friend 🥰💕😍💕😍💖💗💗💗💗😍😊🎉😊😍😍

Damian, already calling Selina: I would like to meet this Tawky Tawny.

Later, Batman would start to panic when he couldn’t find Robin, but then would be shown a picture from Instagram of Robin, Catwoman and Captain Marvel in Fawcette Zoo, specifically the tiger cage hugging a massive Bengal Tiger, captioned “the most civilised tiger you will ever meet”. The next picture is a picture with the three of them having tea with said Tiger in a suit.

Bonus

Dick, Superman’s Number 1 fan: Oh please, he’s obviously the most like me! Captain Marvel and Superman look like they can be BROTHERS

Jason, forever a Wonder Woman Stan: HA, I heard that he WAS Wonder Woman’s Brother

Tim, hiding all his Cap merch: Oh yeah, he’s nothing like Red Tornado, so I’m good

Steph: why wasn’t I invited to the tea party …

Barbara and Alfred, tracking Captain down: Don’t worry, we’ll be invited to the next one

Cass, sensing something is off: … new … brother????

If you see Batman sulking in the corner, you saw wrong. If Batman sulks harder when he realises Barbara and Alfred figured out Captain Marvels identity before him and refuse to share… you’re a fucking liar.

Bonus

Flash: …

Captain Marvel: …

Flash: so when do we get to hug the magic kitty

Captain Marvel: FOR THE LOVE OF-

Tawny, not even a week later: ✨I’m so popular✨

[theworldgate]

I have to explain what is going on in the UK, because it is absurd.

So, this is Gary Lineker:

He's known for a fair few things over here. He was a very good (association) footballer, playing for England in the 1986 and 1990 World Cups, winning the Golden Boot in 1986, and managing to never get a single yellow card in his playing career. He played for Leicester City, Everton, Barcelona, and Tottenham, before finishing his career in Japan. But if you aren't in your mid 30s, you probably know actually know him him for a couple of other things. The first is the role of spokesman for another Leicester icon, Walkers Crisps (which are sort of equivalent to Lays, but hit different), as pictured above. Despite being a notably clean player, he used to play a cheeky serial crisp thief. I don't think he's done that for well over a decade, but his ads were on the telly a lot when I was a kid and it's a bit like learning that the hamburglar was an incredibly clean (American) football player or something.

The second thing Gary is widely known for is having presented Match of the Day, the big football program on the BBC, the sort-of state broadcaster, since 1999. He is, incidentally, very well paid for this (though with a consensus that he could get even more if he went to one of the non-free-to-view broadcasters because he is very good at the job). He also has a twitter account. And political opinions. So, the UK government has got itself dead set upon doing heinous stuff that will totally somehow work to prevent people who want to come to the UK making the perilous crossing of the Channel (between England and France). By heinous, I mean "openly advertise that they won't attempt to protect victims of modern slavery" stuff. It's very obviously using a legal hammer to victimise a marginalised group of people in order to win votes. And, uh, I should clarify that by "legal" I mean "using the passage of laws" - the policy is, in addition to all the other ways it's awful, probably incompatible with the Human Rights Act and the UK's international law obligations. Gary, top lad that he is, objected to this. On Tuesday 7th March, he made a quote Tweet of a video of the Home Secretary, Suella Braverman, bigging up the policy, he wrote "Good heavens, this is beyond awful.". This got a bunch of backlash from extremely right-wingers, and then he made the tweet that really got him in trouble (with right-wingers): "There is no huge influx. We take far fewer refugees than other major European countries. This is just an immeasurably cruel policy directed at the most vulnerable people in language that is not dissimilar to that used by Germany in the 30s, and I’m out of order?".

Now, I am not actually subjecting myself to watching a video of Suella Braverman bigging up a cruel policy to say whether the specific comparison of the language to 1930s Germany is accurate. But needless to say, Ms Braverman was amongst the many figures on the right of UK politics objecting to Gary's rhetoric. And here's the part where a fact about the BBC comes in: it is nominally neutral and impartial (and so, of course, is routinely accused of bias from all sides but particularly the right-wing), and has something of a code for its contributors to this effect. Now, that code has previously been applied to Gary Lineker, over a comment about whether governing Conservative Party would hand back donations from figures linked to the Russian regime. But it generally hasn't been applied too strongly to people like Gary, whose roles have nothing to do with politics (such as presenting a "here's what happened on the footie today" show), on the basis that, well, their roles have nothing to do with politics. However, when directly asked about whether the BBC should punish Gary Lineker for his tweets, government figures basically went "well, that's a them problem". But a couple of days passed, and it seemed like Gary's approach of "standing his ground because he did nothing wrong" was working and everything would die down. He was set to get 'a talking to' but not much more than that. The Conservative right, after all their fire and fury earlier, had gotten bored and moved onto something else. And then, on Friday 10th March, the BBC announced that he would be suspended from hosting Match of the Day this weekend. But it could still go ahead, because there are, like, other hosts! Except, well, funnily enough, when you take a beloved figure off air, for making a fairly anodyne tweet, no one wants to be the scab who actually takes up the role of replacing him. Gary's two co-hosts, Alan Shearer and Ian Wright, said that they would not appear without him. People who (co-)host Match of the Day on other days followed suit. The net result is that Match of the Day is currently set to air without hosts, BBC commentary, or global feed commentary. And the solidarity shown to Gary Lineker, over what is very flagrantly actual cancel culture and an attack on freedom of speech (the logic implied is that institutional impartiality requires that no one say anything too critical of the government ever), has continued to grow. The BBC has pretty much been unable to run pretty much any live sports content today, and has resorted to raiding the BBC Sounds archive to fill the sports radio channel. And, as of 17:30 on Saturday 11th March, the situation shows no signs of improvement, though some are calling for the Chairman Richard Sharp, who is separately facing corruption allegations, to resign (yes I linked to the BBC itself there, there is nothing, nothing, the BBC loves more than going into great detail about how much the BBC sucks).

[gremlingottoosilly]

Camgirl!Reader X Loser!Konig

This is safe, you think. Getting some losers to jerk off to your body, knowing they would have nothing to find you. Filming from a specifically made background with some dumb anime figures and your pretty pink ring light, never getting any information that people might use to get to you. For fucks sake, you even faked an accent so no one could know where are you from. You're banning any subscriber from an area too close to you - most Europeans are not getting you a lot of money anyway, so as soon as you see an Austrian IP address, you're getting your mods to ban them. Until this one. You stare at the donation in awe. You were popular - but not popular enough to have donation over 1000 Euros for something as silly as calling a name in the video. You were popular, but you were also paranoid and it held your back from growing your account. No video chats before you could gather enough for non-disclosed apartment in a protected area, no face pics until you got enough money to move immediately if something would go wrong. The guy is weird, obviously. He is always so eager to send you money, he already bought all of your photo and video sets, asking for new ones almost every day - and you know rich people, you know people who are saving their last cents to get to their favorite camgirl...and Konig didn't seem like neither. Always having such weird requests too - like you speaking in German and praising him like he is a king from some medieval fantasy. Or talking to him like you're a mean girl from some cheap high school movie, always belittling him. Then apologising with tears, playing into some perverted revenge fantasy. Tying yourself up so he can pretend that he did it, that he could do whatever he wants with you now. Sometimes he wants you to call him daddy or sir - and sometimes he asks you for pictures in that heavy military vest he bought from your Amazon wishlist after you expressed the desire to play into army chick glam. They guys is weird, the guy is obsessed, he will pay for you to insert largest dildo into your soaked pussy and spread ass, and then he would still say that his cock is bigger. Would make you a freaking size queen with the size of the stuff he sends - making you whine and cry for real as you struggle to acomodate, asking your daddy, your commander for help. Begging for him to come - always just a play pretend until someday, he finally showed up on your doorstep. Always a play pretend so he could send you more money, until you suddenly woke up in a dimly lit basement. Maybe you should have banned him a long time ago.

[retroellie]

Mile-high club

Summary: After a month of not having sex, you decide to be bold with what you want from spencer. Stepping out of both your comfort zones due to complete sexual frustration.

A/N: This one is a bit rushed, but can y'all tell what my faviote spencer era is? Like i love long haired spencer i can not! Also yall... I just turned 19 :) So that's a little life update lmao. Anyways love and miss y'all!!

Warnings: NSFW, public sex and dirty talk

Word count: 5.4K

As with any other case, this case dragged on and on until you felt you were nothing but skin and bones. Cases always left you feeling so empty inside, always so bleak... it always took you a bit to come back to your natural self. The first rule of being a part of the FBI is never to take it personally, don't take it to heart. But how could you not? You're inviting yourself into these people's lives, picking apart their brains, and using that to your advantage. You knew it was for the best but that didn't mean you had to like it.

You were doing what you normally did after cases, drinking hot tea on the jet aching for the sweet release of sleep. This time, however, you weren't aching for sleep. This entire week there was a thought always in the back of your mind, you weren't sure why it was this case specifically but for some reason, the thought lingered. Spencer... You felt yourself heating up every time around him, focusing only on his hands when he was showing you paperwork or squeezing your thighs together as you watched his hips. You had never been the needy one in the relationship, it has always been Spencer... but something about him now left you hungry. You racked it off to just you being hormonal, but you knew it was because Spencer's hands hadn't been on you for a while. Back-to-back cases like these always left no time to get down with Spencer... one downside to this job among many.

Even now, while sitting on the jet, you could only look at him. Emily and JJ were talking about god knows what, while you started across the jet to see your little Spencer. He was reading, his hands so delicately following as he read... His hair had gotten long, almost touching his shoulders now. You had gotten real used to pulling on it, sometimes subconsciously doing it as you hugged him. You started to think about how he looked last time you made him whimper, the picture burnt into your brain as you slid yourself up and down until he begged you to stop. "too much...." was all he could muster up, his wrist rubbing against the rope as he so badly wanted to reach up to touch you.

"You hear Y/N?" You heard a voice say, your heart dropping as you whipped your head towards it.

The voice belonged to Emily, her eyebrow raised as she wondered what you were thinking. She could see that something was up and not just because she was a profiler. Anyone who could see how you were looking at Spencer could see exactly how you were feeling, sexually frustrated. The way you gripped onto your coffee mug, and bit the inside of your lip roughly... basically eye fucked Spencer. Obviously, you could never tell Emily how you were thinking about Spencer being so pussy drunk that it physically hurt him. So you just sent a smile over to her, brought your tea to your lips, and nodded.

"Yeah! Sorry..." You kept the grin on your face, your embarrassment getting the best of you as you began to become flustered. "Just a bit distracted today."

You flicked your eyes between my cup and Emily, not wanting to make too much eye contact in the state you were in, your state being extremely turned on. It was gross to even admit, but even just looking at Spencer... your body reacted. Emily looked over at JJ, shooting her a look. You caught onto this, but not sure what that look even meant. JJ just chuckled softly, shifting herself in her chair. You looked between them, feeling as though you were left out of a really funny inside joke of theirs. Emily looked back at you, giving you a smirk.

"I can see that..." She leaned back in her chair, hands placed on her stomach as she read your confusion. "Been a while?"

Her words confused you, not sure what she meant by that. You now started feeling like you were the butt of the joke, feeling like you did in high school when girls would giggle behind you. "Been a while." Could mean anything, has it been a while since you showered? Has it been a while since you ate? Has it been a while since you went to a concert? The possibilities were endless yet Emily still expected an answer. You furrowed your brows, cocking your head to the side.

"What?" You asked, genuinely needing an explanation before you could even answer her question. Emily chuckled once again, looking back at Spencer before huddling herself closer to you as if she had to tell you a huge secret.

"You and Spencer?" That was all she said.

Your heart dropped, was Emily a mind reader? or were you just that frustrated that it was written on your skin? Her words made you think, however, how long has it been? It was definitely before this case and the one before it... then there was that 4-day conference y'all were forced to attend, well then that one week you got your period and didn't feel like doing anything but laying in bed... You would say it's been a good month, maybe a little more. This was definitely not normal for you two, sex was like food to the two of you. It was y'alls way to destress from cases, it became so normal to go home after a long case and bang it out. Trust and believe this drought had been taking a toll on you, you were so horny that you could start humping Spencer's leg at any moment, just like a dog in heat.

You hesitated to answer, not wanting to cross that boundary with Emily but also not wanting to be humiliated. You were the more private person when it came to the BAU, you would come in and do your work... that's it. Obviously, you were a part of the BAU family, you knew everyone's business and you would hang out with them outside of work. But you were a mystery to everyone there, well except Spencer, he had quite literally known you inside and out. As of right now though, you were frustrated and in need of a rant so that boundary didn't exist for you today.

"Is it that noticeable?" You said sarcastically, scoffing as you did so. You hated the feeling of being easily read, but the frustration was sloshing around inside you so it was only a matter of time before the people around you figured it out. Emily chuckled softly, looking over at JJ before she spoke.

"I mean you have been grouchy, you're not focused, and well..." Emily paused, she was now reading you like a book. "You've been undressing Spencer with your eyes this entire trip."

You wanted to melt into the ground, and let the worms use your flesh as food. You were embarrassed, completely and utterly ashamed of her words. You were acting like a starved man, only able to focus on the mere thought of food... like a complete glutton-driven man. You never really knew how much you needed sex, you started to wonder if you always had this need deep inside you. You remember before Spencer, you went months without an orgasm and was perfectly fine. Maybe it was Spencer, maybe his cock switched something on inside your pussy... or maybe other men hadn't been doing it right.

You felt your cheeks heat up but at the same time, your body ran cold. All you could do was watch as Emily snickered at your reaction, like your embarrassment was the funniest thing she had ever seen. You were much younger than Emily and JJ, you were newer to this world and newer to sex than they were. Trust and believe that both women have had their share of droughts, so this is not new to them. They weren't trying to embarrass you or make you feel you needed to be ashamed. No, they just found it amusing that you were so blinded to the fact you were so obvious with your motives. Let's just say your subtle touches and comments towards Spencer weren't so subtle.

"I just..." You start, your voice sounding as though you were pouting and honestly... you were pouting. "It used to be every day! Every night, after work... like clockwork! But this stupid fucking job is getting in the way of us, I mean sex is how we communicate!"

Your voice is rising, alerting the sleeping Derek who sat right behind you. He was too tired to even comprehend what you were talking about, which surprised you because he always teased you and Spencer about your sex life. The girls didn't laugh this time, only watched as you looked like you were going crazy. They didn't realize how upset you were about this, this felt it went far beyond sex to you. It did in some sense, as said before you and Spencer were always having sex so if there was no sex happening... there was no and him happening either. This could turn into a therapy session, you could cry about how you felt ignored and put aside but it wasn't that at all... you were just so horny for Spencer, this frustration building up and ready to burst. JJ sighed softly, patting you on the shoulder.

"I get it... I mean we get it." She points between her and Emily, shooting Emily a smile. "Y/N... You need to have sex or you're going to go insane."

Emily nods, agreeing with JJ's clear over-exaggeration. You felt like you were already going insane, you couldn't do anything without the thought of Spencer's cock down your throat completely eliminating your focus. So although it was clear JJ was being dramatic about it, you felt it was pretty accurate for the feeling inside you. You let out a sigh, pushing your hair back as you leaned back in your chair. You have been at this job for 4 years, and insanity came with the job, so this feeling of complete and utter insanity due to not having sex was killing you simply because it was so new to you.

"Trust me, I know." Was all you said, biting your lip softly as your eyes flicked over to Spencer once more.

He was now leaning back in his chair, his thighs slightly opened as his hands were placed on them delicately. He was looking out the window, watching the clouds go by as the sun started to set. You couldn't help but look at his veiny hands placed so pretty on his thighs, you suddenly gained tunnel vision and your eyes started to outline his cock. Spencer sensed you looking at him, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as he turned his head. He made eye contact with you, sending you a soft smile. Talk about the straw that broke the camel's back, that opened the floodgates inside of you.

"You know what you should do?" JJ asked, trying to get your attention, and in only milliseconds... she had it. "You need to make him want it, it's what I used to do with Will all the time when I was pregnant, and believe me pregnancy hormones are no joke."

How does one go about making someone want them? You were no stranger in the teasing scene, it was your favorite thing to do with Spencer. But you haven't even had 2 seconds to tease him since the drought started, so you were a bit out of practice. Spencer would usually be a puddle on the floor you stepped on in seconds when you teased him, but he was so stressed that he couldn't tell his ass from his head sometimes. You were more than willing to know how JJ did it, and how she made men want her in times of desperation. 

"How?" You ask, feeling slightly more embarrassed by your sudden confusion. JJ thinks for a second, looking over at Emily for her to pitch in at any moment.

"There's many ways to do it, all people are different Y/N" Emily chuckled, looking over at JJ who was still thinking about how she even managed to seduce Will like she did. "My advice is just be overly affectionate with him, you know? Touch him more, show a little more skin, laugh louder... Just make it known, be loud with it."

You took in her words, especially the "make it known" and "be loud with it". You felt you could do that, with how frustrated you had become you could see yourself screaming for him to just fuck you. It would be a bit hard because Spencer is kind of not good with social cues, if you try to flirt with him sometimes, he just throws statistics your way. You repeated the words "make it known" in your head, how could you make it known... at that moment as you repeated it in your head like a mantra, you had such a devilish idea. Your hands almost started shaking due to excitement, the feeling taking over your body as you went to speak.

"I can do that..." You said with a smile, standing up from your seat and fixing your shirt. "I need to use the restroom, be right back."

You basically ran to the bathroom, zooming past Spencer who was quite confused at your sudden rush. You locked yourself in the small bathroom, the excitement taking over your body as you could see yourself start doing handstands due to excitement. You pulled out your phone, setting yourself on the small counter sink as you started to pull your shirt off. You weren't sure how to do this, your nerves getting the best of you as you clicked on your camera. You had no time to think, you just pulled your shirt off and aimed your camera at your chest.

The first one was more of a softcore nude, only in your bra as your hand laid on your chest. You took a couple of pictures with your bra on, then you clicked through them, deleting the ones you didn't like. You would've stopped there but you wanted to go the extra mile, you were "being loud" with it as Emily would say. You pulled your bra off, watching it fall to the floor, the nerves in your stomach only fooling you to go further. You pointed the camera at your chest, snapping a couple of pictures. Again, you weren't good at this... you never claimed to be, so you took pictures from multiple angles and positions. Some you were squeezing them together, some you weren't.... you weren't a model or a photographer so you were working with what you had.

You finished, hopping down from the sink and putting your clothes back on. You sat on the lidded toilet, scrolling through the pictures as you picked the ones you would send. You were nervous to say the least, you knew it was just Spencer but you had never taken sex outside of the bedroom before. This was new, this was scary... this was so arousing. You clicked on Spencer's name, his name being "spencie poop" In your phone, you clicked on the pictures you wanted and hovered over the send button. Would this work? what if he isn't into it as much as you are? What were you even doing?

"Make it known. be loud with it." You repeated in your head, closing your eyes before clicking the send button. It took only seconds for it to send the anticipation building in your stomach. You decided to stay sitting in the toilet for a little longer, getting yourself together before you faced the world behind the small bathroom door. You knew Spencer wouldn't see the pictures until later on, knowing that he always put his phone on silent as he hated technology, especially when it interrupted his reading time. You wondered how he would react, knowing that Spencer didn't know how to react to most things. You wouldn't be surprised if Spencer sent you a thumbs up and a message saying how pretty you look, you weren't sure this would even work in your favor.

You gathered yourself, breathing in and out before you stood up to leave the bathroom. As you reached for the door, there was a small knock on it. You assumed it was someone who needed to use the bathroom, you had been in there for a good 15 minutes before you decided to leave. You reached for the door, opening it... Your heart dropped, your entire body went hot and your underwear became wetter than before. It was Spencer, his face was bright red and his hands shook softly. He didn't give you time to even open the door all the way before he barged into the small bathroom with you, shutting and locking the door behind you.

"Are you crazy?" He whispered, hoping no one else saw him or heard him come in. You were pressed against the sink, Spencer pressed against you as the small bathroom was not made for two. "Are you trying to get me in trouble? what if someone had seen?"

Spencer looked upset but his hard cock against your stomach gave his true feelings away. Spencer could never be mad at you, you knew this and you took advantage of it often. Unfortunately, Spencer was very by the books, he followed all the rules but when it came to you... rules didn't exist. So he wasn't actually upset about the pictures, he was just frustrated you decided to send them now. While Hotch was sitting right next to him, a clear shot of his phone and everything. You bit your lip softly, your eyes being pulled toward his cock rubbing against your belly, there was no hiding that in this small compact area.

"Seems like you liked them.." You teased softly, chuckling out as you looked up at him with doe eyes.

Spencer could have come then and there, your innocence creating a deep desire within him. He let out a sigh, his breath panning across your face as he did so smelling of coffee and mint. You brought your hand up to his tie, fiddling with it softly as you stood on your tiptoes, trying to come face-to-face with him. Spencer's breath hitched as your lips brushed his own, his mind going foggy and forgetting where he was in the moment... Something inside him though reminded him, the small voice in the back of his head telling him this was a bad idea and the team was only feet away from you both. As you started to undo his belt, He grabbed onto your shoulders, pushing you back softly.

"Y/N, that was extremely inappropriate..." He said sternly, trying not to give in to your pleading eyes. "Hotch was right next to me an..."

His words were cut off by your hand grasping his cock softly. In the short time, he had been scolding you, you managed to stuff your hand down his pants, Spencer was far too focused on trying to not give into your motives he didn't even realize. Spencer became putty just then, your hand rubbing his cock slowly cutting his iq down by 100. You knew this was also a horrible idea, I mean were you really going to let your twisted, horny mind risk your job? The answer was, yes... yes you were. If it meant that Spencer would be inside of you, then you would do anything.

"I know baby... I've been so bad." You whispered out, your hand still wrapped around his cock. You fluttered your eyes up at him, watching as his ability to control himself slowly disappeared. "But I had to! it's been so long, you have me all worked up and it's starting to hurt."

You rub his cock softly, his own eyes fluttering shut as you turn him into putty. Spencer hadn't even realized how long it had been, he didn't have much time to think about anything but work nowadays. He didn't realize it until he almost came in your hand just from a few pumps. His body had heated up, his cheeks red as you slid your thumb across his tip. His head was foggy but he still couldn't get past the thought that his boss was just outside the small bathroom you both had been in. He stiffened himself up again, putting a hand on your wrist.

"Y/N, the team is inches away from us." He spoke, pulling your hands from his pants and doing up his belt again. "I promise you I will let you do whatever when we get home to make up for these last couple of weeks okay?"

Trust and believe that it took Spencer his entire self-control to say no to you, especially after seeing those pictures. Your half-naked body, the way you looked up at the camera for him. He wasn't sure if he would be able to get his cock to soften after knowing those pictures existed, he knew this was going to be a long trip home. He struggled with getting his belt looped, his hands shook so vigorously that they were no help to him. You finally reached your hand out to stop his hands, reaching up to lift his head to look up at you.

"Spencer, if you tell me to stop right now... I will." You spoke, you were frustrated and it was so obvious you both needed this. "I will stop and we can walk out of here like nothing happened okay? I just need you to say "I want this to stop." and that's it, I'll stop. But all i need is 5 minutes, I'll get us both off and no one will even notice.``

Spencer thought for a moment, seeing how serious you were. He knew you would never force him to do anything, so he knew if he really did tell you to stop, you would. but he really didn't want you to stop, his "professional FBI agent" side told him to stop but his "love drunk" side didn't want you to stop. All he could think about was your pictures and how uncomfortable this boner was going to be for the rest of the plane ride if he didn't just flat-out fuck you.

He tried to calculate just how far away the team was from the two of you and what the chances of them hearing the two of you were. He came up with it being 72% they won't hear the two of you, due to the fact the bathroom is a bit insulated and most of the team liked to sit far from the bathroom. You could see him doing this math in his head just by the look on his face, you chuckled to yourself knowing this was a complete Spencer Reid thing. Spencer struggled internally, both his logical and hormonal sides butting heads just as he looked down at you with those pretty doe eyes you kept giving him. Spencer was going to burst, the month of no sex finally catching up to him all at once.

"Fuck it..." He said right before crashing his lips onto yours.

Now Spencer Reid must have really been frustrated as he never used words like that, but something about you just sent him over the edge each time. You kissed him back immediately, his hands kept your mouth on him as his tongue slid into your mouth. It was all so fast-paced, just like you said it would be... you just needed five minutes. You reached down to his half-done belt and started undoing it once more, trying to focus on his lips and your hands at the same time. Spencer was so completely engulfed in the kiss that he couldn't even contemplate helping you at all, he just pressed you against the sink hinting at you to hop on it.

You positioned yourself on the sink, Spencer's hands going to your ass to prevent you from falling into it. You finally got his pants undone, pulling them down so only his cock could bounce free causing a soft groan to fall from his lips. You smirked softly into the kiss, feeling just as hard he had gotten just from your little "fight".

"Really liked them huh?" You said through the kiss, Spencer just kissed you harder trying to get you to shut up.

You just laughed softly, your hands now going to your own pants to take them off. You struggled with your pants, trying to keep Spencer's mouth satisfied with your mouth while also trying to get out of your very tight pants. Spencer noticed this, pulling away from you to help you slide your pants down your thighs and watching them bunch up on your ankles. As soon as they were out of the way, Spencer didn't even bother with your panties, he just pushed them to the side and slid himself into you.

"Fuc.." Was all he could get out before he stuffed his face into your neck, silencing his moans that were bound to come out.

Your eyes immediately rolled to the back of your head, gripping onto his shoulders for support. You felt whole again, his cock sliding inside of you like it never left. Spencer didn't sit still for long before he started thrusting inside of you, his hands gripping your hips roughly. Spencer's thrust started rough and fast, taking your word for it only taking 5 minutes. To avoid suspicion and losing your job, you both needed to hurry up and get off.

You couldn't help but get lost in the feeling, finally after weeks of needing to be fucked and it's actually happening plus the feeling of getting caught only added to the pleasure. You thrust back into Spencer, lifting your hips off the counter just to slam your own hips into his. It went like this for minutes, both of you breathing heavily and using each other's bodies to get off. Suddenly you felt a knot inside of your form, your hands moving up to his hair to pull on it to alert him.

"Gonna cum... fuck gonna cum." You whispered into his ear, as his face was still stuffed between your neck and your shoulder. He was afraid if he replied, he was going to not be able to control the moans that came from his throat.

He just thrusted faster, his hand coming up to rest on the mirror as you both were being pushed further and further up onto the sink so the faucet was almost digging into your back. He let out a couple of soft whimpers as his thrust became sloppier, his eyes tearing up as his cock twitched. He'd never come this fast before, only besides the first few times you both had fucked, but this was a record and it was clear he had become so backed up that this was definitely needed.

He came first, coating the inside of your walls with his hot cum, fucking himself through his own orgasm as well as coaxing you to your own. You came only moments later, the feeling of his warm breath on your neck and his hot cum inside of you... you broke. You came with a soft moan and your nails digging into his shoulders. It wasn't the best orgasm he had ever given you but it was so needed, it felt like you had been given water after days of dehydration.

As said before, you needed to be quick so after a few seconds of recovering from ecstasy, you both were pulling your clothes back on. It felt dirty in a way, aftercare, and soft kisses weren't a luxury you had at the moment. You watched as he pulled his pants back on, once again struggling with his belt. You realized how lighter and rested he looked now like the quickie was the thing he was missing his entire life. You chuckled softly, moving your hands down to his belt to help him loop it through.

"Guess we just joined the mile-high club huh?" You smirked up at him, his face still red with lust. Spencer chuckled softly, watching as your hands fixed his belt.

Spencer was almost embarrassed that he allowed you to sit high and dry for almost a month straight, he hadn't even thought of touching you that entire time. Although his mind had been elsewhere the entire time, it still felt wrong for a person to completely deny you of anything. Spencer felt he needed sex as much as you did, something he would have never thought he would ever need. He now understands why Morgan is the way he is, the constant need to feel that closeness to someone... to feel so vulnerable, especially in a job where vulnerability is a weakness. You noticed that Spencer had been in his head again, he always just had that look to him.

"You okay?" You asked, your hands now fixing his hair slightly. "I didn't push a boundary did i?"

Spencer shook his head almost immediately, the feeling of any discomfort so far away it wasn't even there. Spencer felt completely comfortable with you, even if it was such a weird situation to be in. He just got into his own head a lot, letting his mind wander and making up all kinds of assumptions about things. The assumption on his mind right now was that maybe having a healthy, functioning relationship in this field was almost impossible. You both hadn't had a single conversation that wasn't about a case or coffee or anything that didn't involve the office, in weeks. Could you both go on like that or are you both destined to just have quickies in the jet bathroom for the rest of your careers.

"No! Of course not!" He breathed out, basking in your soft hands touching his face softly, something you had done to comfort him. "Just wanted to say sorry for being so distant lately, didn't know you were feeling this...ignored?"

He wasn't sure what the right word to use was and honestly, you didn't know either. You weren't actually angry with him, just frustrated especially when your only kind of stress release was coming home and fucking him till he cried. You continued to rub his cheek softly with your thumb, pushing his hair back from his face.

"I'm not mad honey." You chuckled, trying to reassure him that he did nothing wrong. "Just please start checking in with me okay? So the feelings don't build up and we have to risk our jobs again."

Your joke caused Spencer to crack a smile, his laugh filling the small bathroom. He nodded, leaning down to set a soft kiss on your lips. The reality started to sit in however, you both just fucked on the job basically and the embarrassment and shame were written all over both of you. You both had only been gone for 15ish minutes so it was going to be an easy lie to come up with, you'll probably blame it on your motion sickness that you actually feel often on the jet. You both agreed on a story, you had gotten sick and asked Spencer to hold your hair back, easy enough. You went to open the door, taking a breath before facing your team again.

"Hey y/n?" Spencer spoke, stopping you in your tracks before you opened the door. You gave him your full attention, turning to see his eyes once again filled the lust. "I did like them...You should definitely start, you know I'm...Sending them more often."

You let out a soft chuckle, rolling your eyes before walking out of the bathroom. You both nonchalantly went back to your seats, as if nothing happened. JJ and Emily were talking about something when you got back, completely lost in conversation to realize what had just happened. You looked around at everyone, trying to see an inch of disgust or knowing on their faces. Fortunately, everyone was oblivious to the events that happened in the bathroom so you could relax in your seat. You tried to listen in on JJ and Emily's conversation, putting your two cents in here and there but your eyes kept flicking over to Spencer. He was now boring his eyes into your skin, making your body heat up once again. You could tell that what was supposed to be a simple quickie, was definitely not over yet and it was going to be a long trip home. 

[cupcakeinat0r]

Your middle-aged, loser Genetics professor who has a dad bod <3

Part 9

Wc. 7.7k

Miguel waits in his car, his gaze not fixated on anything specific; simply forward. He rests his forearm on the car door, window down. The thick hairs of his arm raise as his mind ventures, replaying the past few hours in his mind. A low hum stirs against his chest. There’s a sort of glow he emulates as he sits there idly, smizing at nothing in particular. He probably looks like a total creep with how he’s grinning in his car, alone, looking off into space. No passenger. You've sat there for the past few months, from campus to your place, and vice versa. But today, you aren’t there, yet he’s happy. His heartbeat intensifies, his stomach contracting once or twice due to unfiltered chuckles. As he waits patiently in the car, he lets it consume him, the memory of that morning, and he closes his eyes.

“Okay, what do you think?” you reach your arms out as if to present a prize, and the winner is Miguel. Miguel, who looks uncomfortable in your too-small-for-him lounge chair but shows no sign of strain on his face, fixes his glasses and observes with love-sickened eyes. After a simple, romantic breakfast at his place, he insisted on taking you back home so that you could get ready. Then after dropping you off, you figured he might as well stay so he can take you to the ceremony, too.

“Is it too much?” You give a little twirl.

His eyes scan thoroughly scan you. “Jesus… How’d I get so lucky?” The question sounds genuine, as if needing an actual answer. “You’re beautiful, mama.”

This makes you smile in return. You look to the mirror to see if Miguel is right (obviously, he is), running your hands over your pre-planned graduation outfit. Today, you receive your hard-earned Master’s Degree, and even though throughout the year you were convinced you wouldn’t be, you’re feeling more nervous than ever. “Picked it myself.” Your voice wavers just a hint. Has two years really gone by so fast? More specifically, the second year of your grad. The first one felt like eons. Maybe it’s just because you didn’t score an Adonis of a professor that year.

Miguel stands from his chair and comes from behind, his hands snaking through the gap between your arms and waist, holding you tightly against his plush exterior, “I just wish I was the one who got it for you.” and a kiss is pressed to your temple. His grasp seemed to soothe your nerves a bit, your body sinking into his natural warmth and plush. You can see his face through the mirror, the absence of doubt and judgment in his expression making you fall all over again. You really were a lucky girl. He looks at you with such reverence. And maybe a touch of arousal. Those aren’t his keys you feel on your backside.

“Oh, stop. You’ve given me more than enough, Miguel. All I need is you.” With his chin resting on the top of your head, you reach to cup his face, a picture-perfect moment displayed on the full-length mirror. He whispers into your ear, “Giving you lessons doesn’t count, that’s just my job. te voy a dar el mundo, mi Vida.”

“Right, right, and I’m guessing giving me that necklace was a part of your job description?”

You win a rich, dark chuckle from him, but he ignores you, still sprinkling kisses on your skin, his bifocals bending out of place at times. You giggle and even try to break away, but he doesn’t budge. You fight the urge to kiss back just to spite him.

“Or that skirt? Or those shoes? Or that one purse? Damn, how much does the school pay you?”

And before you can further argue, he presses more kisses onto you, almost sending both of you to topple over. “Just let me spoil you, mama.” He speaks against your jaw.

“Miguel!” the gravel chuckle of his voice continues to rumble against the side of your neck. You can’t complain and never will, but the difference between Miguel now versus the Miguel you met still leaves you baffled to this day. Or it isn’t much of a difference or change, really, but rather an unmasking. This Miguel was just stowed away until further notice; placed in the backest corner of the freezer to never see the light of day. This is the person Miguel was dying to show, he just needed the right person to coax it out of him. Now you have him attacking you with wet kisses in the middle of your living room, his hulking arms locked around you with no chance at an escape.

“Right, enough fooling around and help me into this, will you!” Reluctantly, he’ll let you move your hair for better access to the still-open zipper of your outfit.

“Fine. On one condition.”

Sigh. “Yes?”

“Un besito.”

“Oh my God.”

“Take it or leave it. Last offer. Don’t make me make it two.”

“Given there’s no one else around to zip me up, I guess I have no choice. Just my luck.” you joke, eagerly leaning your head back against his chest, granting his kiss entry to your neck, your chin, and then lastly, your lip. And then one kiss turned to multiple. If you weren’t so completely lost in his tongue and lips, you’d notice his hand rested and wrapped around your neck. The minor callouses provided a sensation that only added to the fervor of the exchange. Once y’all finally pull away, low eyes traveling in triangles, he politely requests, “Step forward for me.”

You move forward slightly so as to give him space to zip you up. But before he can do the job, he takes a second to look over the details of your back, a part of your body his hands have gotten to know very well, but his eyes haven’t gotten the same pleasure of. Miguel was very good at respecting your boundaries and wishes, which meant a lot (a lot) of making out, but nothing further than that. He notes to himself how soft it looks, the hills and curves of your spine creating a Grecian masterpiece.

And you can practically feel his eyes roam every inch of exposed skin, making you feel like art. You think to say something, but you’d rather let Miguel have this moment, and you let yourself have it, too. You’d often think about what it’d be like to see Miguel’s reaction to you. All of you. He’s made you feel nothing but like a deity for the duration of your budding, unlabeled relationship, and you’ve been fully clothed at all times. You can only imagine how he’ll act when you’re completely bare.

You know for sure he loves you. He said so. And he’s shown it to you. You’ve decided that being that vulnerable with him is something you want, it’s only a matter of when.

You start to hear the friction of the tab pulling the teeth together, one by one, that’s how slow Miguel was going. Unable to resist the urge, he stops the zipper and reaches to plant a tender kiss on the back of what’s left of your exposed neck. “I could do this every day, you know?” he admits softly, like a hymn. You turn, not completely, just so that your face is to him, “‘Everyday’? For how long?” You know the answer, kind of, but there’s still curiosity in what he’ll say. There are so many instances where you wait for Miguel to say the wrong thing; to do something that’ll break this spell, but he hasn’t. He just doesn’t have the capacity to. He’s perfect in your eyes.

“For however long you’ll have me. Which I’m really hoping is forever or else this’ll be extremely embarrassing.”

Damn, he said the right thing. People can say his stab at humor is mediocre all they want, but Miguel never ceases to make you snicker. If you opened an Oxford Dictionary to ‘adorable’, it’d have his picture.

“Who am I kidding, you could absolutely humiliate me and I’d still say ‘thank you’.”

“Oh, this’ll make some good blackmail.” you finally turn around to tauntingly wave your index finger at his amused expression.

“Oye, Final exam grades aren’t due ‘til next month, so I’d be careful if I were you.” his brow perks when he says ‘you’, and your only response is a sarcastic ‘Oooooo’ before you’re muffled by the millionth kiss of the day, but who’s counting?

“There. Secured. Anything else, princesa?”

You take a deep breath, getting in one last overall look in the mirror before facing him, “Okay, yeah, I’m ready. Just need my chauffeur.” You look over at Miguel, who looks back at you confused, then looks around knowing fully well there’s no one else except the two of you.

“Oh, yeah? Who?”

Ha ha ha. Very Funny. If expressions could talk, this is what yours would’ve said.

Miguel smiles, taking your hand to kiss the back of it, and rubs your knuckles with his thumb as an apology. “Your chariot awaits, your majesty.”

Wait, where is he going?

“Mig, stadium’s that way.” your thumb points toward the window next to you, the street that leads to the graduation growing farther and farther.

Despite that a mistake has obviously been made, Miguel looks indifferent, eyes aimed straight at the road before them with no sign of a doubt. He huffs from his nose before responding, “I know,” his thumb runs across the back of your hand, “I have something for you, though.” He takes your hand up to his lips, a smile creeping up on your features.

“At your office?”

“Accidentally left it there.”

What is he up to?

His crooked smile tells you a different story. Miguel can feel you questioning him. You can see him physically gather his words in the driver's seat.

“Remember when… we were in the library one of those first nights and we exchanged books?”

You nod. How could you forget?

“And I told you about Gabriella?”

You nod again. He’s asking obvious questions here, it’s sort of scaring you.

“That was my first time talking about her with someone. In years.” His chest and belly deflate as if releasing a weight he’s held onto, “And you’re also the first person who’s said her name out loud. Someone other than me. In a very long time.”

You listen intently, everything that has happened up until now making more sense with this piece of information. You always knew the painful fact that Miguel has been by himself mostly since starting teaching, but it stings even more knowing that he’s never opened up to anyone about this. No one to turn to. No one to be soft with. Sure, he had his friends, from what you remember him telling you about his hero, multi-dimension, whatever-it-was days, but to your understanding, they all left him alone. By means of Miguel’s requests. He wanted those days to be over completely.

“She was beginning to feel like- I don’t know. Like a figment of my imagination. Photos and videos that I rewatch and stare at every single day were starting to… go stale,” this admission makes him wince in shame, “I replay them over and over again… and nothing new. I know what happens in each and every single one of them. And it ends up hurting every single time. I didn’t know how much more I could’ve taken before stopping altogether.” His lips purse, the guilt seeping from every inch of him. “Well, at some point, I even became afraid. Terrified that I was starting to forget the little things about her, or worse, that I’d move on,”

You didn’t even notice, but the car had been parked minutes ago, it’s only when he turns his face to look at you, eyes beginning to gloss, when you realize the car had stopped.

“Until that night.” His narrow gaze softens.

“The night at the library… I told you things that I hadn’t even thought about until that night. Like, for example, how she liked to match the color of her hair ties to her shirt,” Miguel allows himself to softly beam with this memory, “or whenever I’d fall asleep on the couch, she’d always, always, place a blanket on my feet so that ‘the monsters don’t get me’,” you both giggle at this, “Like those things? They had just come back to me in that moment.”

You both had entered campus grounds and turned to his office door, and he whipped out his keys, the metal hitting against the doorknob. The halls are quiet and hollow. It feels like the end of an academic year.

“I just never thought I could possibly let those things slip.” His voice lowers, an air of disbelief in his words.

“Will you ever stop loving her?”

“Of course not. Never.”

“Then she will live on forever. You’ve proven to yourself that you’ll never let the small things leave. They’ll always come back to you.”

Miguel smiles to himself, thinking about this.

He heads toward his bookshelf, reaching for something, but you can’t see given that he himself blocks the entire view of it. “When I hear you say her name,” you see his head bow down at something in his hand, “You sound so… lively... If that makes sense? Like… as if she were still here, as if you knew her. It meant a lot to me. Even in the way you talked about her. Maybe it explains why I was able to recall so much.”

He turns around to you, and you can only make out something small in his hand; something blue?

“I figured that, if she were still here, she’d want you to have this.”

He unfurls his hand and out blossoms a satin blue ribbon formed in a rosette; the words ‘first place’ are displayed in the center. “Wear it today?” He stands before you, the dwarfed ribbon sitting in his hand. His request sounds more like a plea.

“Her teammates gave it to her when she scored their winning goal. She was so happy. It was her last game before she-” Both gazes leave the ribbon and land on each other, glossed and daring to well.

He clears his throat, “She used to- used to show it off any chance she could,” His eyes well up, but regardless of presuming tears, he looks down at the ribbon with a soft smile.

“Miguel,” Your head slowly shakes from side to side, “I can’t.”

“Yes you can,” he persists, “Take it, it’s yours.” He insists through choked words. He places the ribbon in your hand, folding your fingers in, hoping that you’ll accept his gift.

Here stands a man you’ve been falling so hard for for the past year, who is not only giving you a piece of his late daughter’s life, but insisting you take it. You haven’t been around enough to know what love is, but with what Miguel is doing right now, you’re starting to think maybe this is what it might look like. When you started seeing Miguel, who was your professor, you didn’t think all those thoughts of him being yours would ever have come true. You knew it was silly, childish, and most importantly, out of the question. Yet here he is, giving you a piece of himself. This isn’t casual anymore. So he did really mean those three sacred words said last night and this morning.

After letting the ribbon sit there for just seconds but what feels like minutes, you take his hand back, but the ribbon is now pressed between you and Miguel’s palms. You give it a tight squeeze, taking in a deep breath. “It’s ours.”

You look up at him, a trail of a tear down your cheek. “Because I’m yours, if you’ll have me,” a bright smile grows behind your wet eyes. “And I’m really hoping it’s forever, or else this’ll be extremely embarrassing.” You actually laugh, and so does he, pooling eyes and all.

“You’re stuck with me. I love you.”

With those words, it was like the past five years of being alone became all worth it. All the lonely nights, all the predictive mornings, and the dune of a civilian life he was leading came crashing down on him because he knew a new one was dawning. Still civilian, but now, he has someone to put all the love he has to offer into. All his fears, all his insecurities, it all dissolved. The label of your relationship was blurry, uncertain if this was the kind of thing you entertained for only a bit and never spoke of again or something worthwhile. If last night wasn’t a confirmation of the answer, then this moment was, marking it as the official beginning of a romantic, exclusive, official relationship.

“I love you. I love you. Te amo. Te quiero. I love you. I love you… I love you…” his soft declarations are muffled in kisses on any spot he could get to. All those fantasies he’s conjured in his mind where you two live together, share a life, make a life… or two… or three… or however many you’re willing to carry, he doesn’t care, all of those scenarios now seem like promises. Like a nearby reality. Solitary nights dreaming about you in ways that leave him hot and bothered will finally come to an end. On a more suggestive note, He’ll finally be able to get through class without raging hard-ons again.

“I love you.” You manage to breathe out between kisses. Arms wrap around the back, hands wrap around the neck, fingers rake through tussles of hair, and legs begin to lose balance and find their way to the edge of Miguel’s desk. Visions become blurred, ears begin to grow hot, and heart rates quicken with beats large enough to feel on each other’s chests. You two are much too deep in it that you don’t hear the creaking of the wood underneath you. “Yes. Please.” Miguel hears your whisper, moving his head to look you in the eye. “You mean…?” He asks gently, to which you nod, repeating your plea. Without much thinking, Miguel taps your thigh. This was it. Miguel didn’t hear you say the exact words, but he knew. He knew what you were saying yes to. You, much less thinking, instinctively raise your leg, allowing Miguel to prop you onto the desk. “I love you. So much, it’s crazy, Miguel. God, I wanna spend the rest of my life with you.” You mewl in his ear, and in return, Miguel, with softly knitted brows, lets out a pathetic groan. Miguel may be quiet in everyday life, but when it came to the two of you, alone, he wasn’t afraid of being vocal about what he liked, and right now, with what you’re saying plus your legs wrapping securely around his waist seemed to have both an audible and physical effect on him. A big physical effect.

Is this the right spot to do this right now? Couldn’t y’all get in trouble? Was this even a good time?

These are questions that a sane person would probably think of, but with the current circumstances, you simply couldn’t give a damn, let alone Miguel. Even if you tried, you don’t think you would’ve even had enough brain wattage to string a single thought with Miguel touching you like this. However, if you had the luxury of logic, you’d know that:

1. Getting in trouble isn’t of concern since faculty are either at home starting the Summer they’ve been so impatiently waiting for, and students are at home doing the same or at the stadium.

2. Given that the ceremony won’t start until another 2 hours from now, it’ll give you both plenty of time. The traffic would’ve been dreadful anyway, so might as well just show up at the last minute.

3. What better place than here… where you two met.

You breathe heavily along with Miguel, “Remember… the first meeting… I sat right in front of this desk,” Miguel makes an effort to listen, but he’s currently too occupied with straining his hard-on against your heat, “Mm-oh…now look at us.” your breathless voice and coquettish smirk goes straight to Miguel’s cock, the feeling of his pants shrinking in size making him hot all over. Trapping your lips between his over and over again. You're pretty much without oxygen at this point, but you don’t care, it feels amazing. His teeth on your lips, his hands squeezing the flesh of your ass deeper against his length. Your fingers tugged onto his now disheveled curls and he whined. He whined.

“Mama, you don’t wanna know how many times I’ve imagined this moment. Fuck, am I dreaming again?” His words hit your skin like the thick air after a calm rain.

You cup his face in your hands, pulling him from your neck, and you’re met with a lust-drunken, devoted worshipper; a big man that’s been stricken of sex for far too long. In doing so, you notice the ribbon still in your hand, which knocks a bit of sobriety back into you. It’s almost like Miguel read your mind because the same alarm goes off in his head. With that, the two of you are quick to mend one tiny problem.

Miguel, still between your legs, reaches over to lower any pictures he has of Gabriella, faced down on the shelf. As for you, you stash the ribbon safely in a drawer right behind you. Gabriella shouldn’t be present for this.

Capturing you in a kiss again, your hand ends up untucking his shirt, resting on his stomach, your fingers caressing his skin. He huffs, slightly tickled by your soft touch along his belly. The corner of his lip curves into a dorky smirk as you sneak your hand into the waistband of his slacks and boxers, pushing past his dark happy trail. “Oh fuck. Haven’t been touched like this in so long,” The clank of his belt buckle rings in your ears, making you pulsate, “I need you. So fucking badly.”

“Keep talking. Please.” You murmur, unbuttoning his shirt, unveiling a plethora of chest hair covering a body fit to raise your future children.

“So lonely, honey… miss you every night when I come home. Miss you so much in the mornings, it hurts.”

Once his shirt is on the floor, with hands and eyes, you revel in all his glory: six feet and nine inches of caramel deliciousness, coated in equal parts of muscle and fluff. You could come undone just from this sight.

His hand holds your chin with a soft caress of his thumb, “I used to look a lot better back then. I’ll work on it.”

You pull him down by his neck to eye level in protest. “Don’t you dare change a single thing on this body. You’re perfect. You’re beautiful. Finest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.” Oh, that made his dick twitch. Your free hand wraps around his broad shoulders while the other is in his hair, smashing faces. Miguel, with no hesitation, swipes everything off the desk and instantly pushes you onto your back, his soft husky exterior pressing you against the cold wood. Tongues are down throats. He stutters as his dick twitches, “Tell me I can eat you out.” The question and tone of voice alone make your back arch. You kiss even deeper, tongues intertwining as he moans in your mouth.

“God, yes, please, Mig, please-”

He gives a vicious squeeze to your ass, reminding you of his pure strength, “That’s not what I want. Usa tus palabras, mamita.” Your begging makes his cock ache, but he needs to hear the words. He needs to know you want this as much as he does. He needs your permission.

Your top lip curls before you speak again through hooded eyes, “Professor,” the name catches him off guard, “please… fuck me with your mouth.”

You were playing a dangerous game. Before you was a sexually deprived middle-aged man who’d been silently pining for you since day one, and you were begging him to treat your cunt like a 5-star meal. Having a gorgeous girl like you pleading for him to tongue fuck you like you deserved, it was driving him crazy. He wasted no time going down to the most sacred corner of this divine body.

“Funny… I zipped this up not even half an hour ago.”

“Hey, hey, careful, I still have a ceremony to wear this to.”

You had a point. And as if you were a gift, he bunches the fabric high enough to reveal some panties he’d recently given you. If it wasn’t for him wanting to last for both hours until the ceremony, he would’ve came right then and there. He looks at you with darkened eyes, a gaze intense enough to strip the cockiness from you, your cheeks growing hot from the act, “What? I assumed this was gonna happen later-”

Miguel cuts your sentence short with a French kiss to your clit through the thin lace, the combination of his nose, tongue, and breath on your heat making your thighs shake. “ So wet… you always this wet during class? Fuck.” With how Miguel was moaning and groaning against your sensitive skin, you’d assume he got more pleasure in giving you head than you did receiving it. Your hand darts for his scalp, the other holding onto the edge of the desk for dear life once he hooks the panty with his finger to move it out of the way, pursuing even more thirstily now. The wood creaks with each buck of your hips, but with the way Miguel’s arms hold your weight on his wide shoulders effortlessly, it doesn’t phase you. Breathless prayers of his name left your lips, panting softly as your head fell back against the table. You can feel the bundle in your core form as your whimpers turn to wails.

“Mig, s’good, feels so good. I’m close, pleasepleaseplease-”

Meanwhile, his eyes were practically to the back of his head, hips pathetically bucking to the matching rhythm of your hips as he took turns treating your clit like a lollipop and your entrance like a fleshlight. “M’gonna- aw fuck… voy a cuidarte, mamita, don’t you worry your pretty little head.” you hear through a whine before his tongue is back at it again. His hands take turns squeezing your thighs tighter around his head and occasionally using his forefingers to stimulate your sensitive bud. His glasses start to fog, and his eyes are covered by humid lenses. This was starting to obscure his perfect view of you and your euphoric expressions, and he just couldn’t have that. So, he pulled away for only a millisecond just to basically rip them off and he was right back to devouring your weeping cunt. There’s no way he was missing this.

You’re choked whines signify the peak, your body trembling uncontrollably. This will be the first of many, and he’s only getting started. When the man promises to take care of you, he’s gonna take care of you.

He spends the remainder of your climax lovingly rubbing his fingers up and down your pussy, making sure you ride it out all the way to the very end.

“Good, baby? You okay?” he purs back into your ear, tenderly caressing your thighs and planting gentle kisses of reassurance on your face. You nod with half-lidded eyes, catching your breath before replying ‘yes’.

“Tell me what you want, mama.”

“Fuck me, professor. Please?”

“Say that again.”

You look at him above you, your legs pulling his waist closer so that his aching length meets your pulsing core, “Please, I want you to fuck me, professor.” Whilst maintaining eye contact, Miguel reaches down to put your hand on the bulge. “Look what you do to me.” Your theory of his size is confirmed.

“This what you wanted?”

“Need it.”

“C’mere.”

Miguel sits you up, telling you to relax since ‘he’ll do all the work’. He carries you to his office couch. He plops onto the cushions with you straddled on his lap. While he has your tongue entwined with his, he releases his cock from the restraints of his boxers, the base erects against his lower belly. Not wanting to waste another second, although the view of it was mesmerizing, you sit up on your knees to line yourself up with him, but Miguel sits you back down, “No hay prisa, mamita, need to get you ready, but first,” His hand snakes to the back of the zipper, and the dress unveils, “Need to see all of you, beautiful.” you seem to knock the air out of him as he lets his hands explore you, your breasts the perfect hand full. “You’re so fucking hot.” He even looks up for a moment and thanks God for blessing him with someone like you, making you look down at the endearing gesture.

Your body goes limp once he laps at your chest, sucking and pulling like it was his first meal in ages. The feeling of his tongue circulating your hardened buds made you clench around nothing. He has you in a bear hug, front sides pressed against each other. The small room seems to disappear around the two of you, totally forgetting where you are, in both space and time. It’s just you, Miguel, and the beautiful sounds of pure, raw pleasure.

“Mig, wanna make you feel good, too.”

Miguel unwillingly pulls away, only half-hearing what you said, and not given even a chance to process. You’ve already positioned yourself on your hands and knees next to him on the couch. Kitten licks and tender sucks to the tip send Miguel’s head falling against the back of the couch. You know he’s needing more when his hips buck upward, and you’re more than willing to give it to him. Occasionally, you’d rest your head against his stomach chub to give him a few rewarding strokes, admiring his size, just to let it sink back into your hollowed mouth. You managed to get Miguel growling, hoarse moans spilling from his bitten lips as you tend to his stiffened cock that you’ve daydreamed of tasting.

“Baby, please, slow down, not gonna last long.” But it was no use. You were relentless on his aching manhood. The only way to get you to go easy on him was to reach over your ass and pump his fingers into you, so that’s exactly what he did. You whine with his tip in the back of your throat, but you’re able to still keep him in. To Miguel’s hopes, you do slow down, the mutual pleasure putting both of you in sync.

“Let’s come together, mamita, hm? Can I put another one in, baby?”

He takes your eye contact as a cue to put in a third, thick finger, eliciting a high-pitched moan against his veiny shaft. Having both ends of you completely filled was, in all honesty, a bit overwhelming, but it’s the best feeling you’ve ever felt. There’s no one else you would’ve rathered have you like this than your Mig.

His fingers get faster, and your strength to keep his cock inside is dwindling, but for him, you try, nonetheless.

“That’s it, mamita, that’s it…” His fingers are unbelievably fast at the point, droplets sent flying and falling onto the fabric of the couch. That’s something he’ll worry about later, but right now, his goal was to get you absolutely fucked out and coming all over his hand. Unable to hold it anymore, you free him from your mouth, letting yourself cry and whine freely as he finger fucks your second orgasm out of you. Still determined to have him come with you, you pump him with your hand as you ride off your high on his hand. Miguel wants to praise you, but his panting and mewling get in the way. You had this gentle giant making what would be considered embarrassing noises, but symphonic music to your ears. At the first sign of his juices, you place him back into your mouth, but this time, he holds your hair and fucks up into your mouth in short, fast, desperate thrusts until he’s finished.

You don’t even let him have a moment to breathe once you start kissing up his happy trail and to his stomach; what once was a pack of abs has given way to pudge. You kiss a little higher, giving his pec a gentle lick where it’s most sensitive, making him sharply inhale as a result. They proceed to the valley of his pecs, up his neck, to his jaw, and cheek. If Miguel still had doubts in the back of his mind about your love for his body, they’ve vanished now.

Your lips meet now, and various soft ‘I love you’s’ are exchanged.

“Just want you to sit back n’ relax now, mami. Wanna see that gorgeous face,” Holding onto your head and lower back, he carefully lays you on the couch, “Can I?” The gentle dominance this man radiated was good enough to make you already contemplate marriage. The expression on his face reflected utter devotion and praise. You thought his kind were only written in books.

“Of course, professor. Gotta repay you for all those private sessions.” Even after two orgasms, you still had to keep the cliche going. Miguel was unable to help a small chuckle. He had no problem playing right along, though. “You made it so hard to focus in class, you know that?” His voice is dark and low, a stark contrast to the noises he was making just a minute ago. He speaks while spreading your legs like precious artifacts, lining himself up. Finally.

“Sitting there all gorgeous n’ smart. Drove me insane.” He whispers into your ear, his leaking tip making a connection to your entrance. “And then having the audacity to help your classmates? How dare you have a heart just as beautiful.” He kisses you while sliding inside, muffling your gasp.

He tuts against your mouth, “Yo se, bebita, me too…mmnnshit,” His hand caresses your hair in an effort to soothe at least some tension, “I’ll go slow, mama, m’kay? Gonna take care of y- oh fuck,” His forehead presses against yours, his free hand holding onto yours as he slowly slides in and out, gauging how deep you can take him. The stretch induces a euphoric pain, causing you to squeeze his hand, but he squeezes right back, your cunt sucking him in all too well.

Miguel starts to go stupid once he’s halfway in. The sensation has him beginning to babble, choked words coming out in a gentle lull.“Que rico…Feel good, mamita? It’s okay mama, let me hear you. Please, let me hear you.” He talks delicately as he continues to go in and slowly draw out with only half of himself, just to be sure you're warmed up enough for all of him. Your eyes are closed, trying to focus on breathing, but it only makes it more difficult. It worries Miguel. “Too much, baby? I’ll stop.” And just as he’s about to pull out, you use your other hand that was clinging onto the arm of the chair to stop him, “Nonono, please,” He lowers himself, still connected, “Need you, Mig. Please, keep going, don’t stop.” You beg, the undeniable need in your voice making Miguel go weak. He puts all his weight on you, cautiously going all the way inside. When he gets as deep as he possibly can, his tip kissing you right in the perfect spot, he pecks your forehead before telling you, “You look so pretty taking it, beba.”

Miguel’s words are slurred as he begins fucking you, thick fingers playing at your clit as he does. He can’t help but prop himself on his elbow just to get a look of himself going in and out of you, the slick sounds and what looks like a bulge of his cock sending him into insanity, driving him to go desperately faster. He gets lost in the way every time he pumps in, he creates a hill in your stomach. You look down, too, seeing what he’s seeing, and it only makes his name fall from your mouth embarrassingly loud, as well as telling him how good he feels and how much you love him, every syllable coming out with pure verity.

Not now since you’re too busy getting amazingly fucked, but later on, you’ll surely think about how good of stamina Miguel has for his age. He should’ve been tired by now, but the man was rutting and there was no sign of him slowing down anytime soon. When his mouth wasn’t latched onto yours, he’d speak nonsense to you. He’d let out long, exasperated ‘Yes’s’ into your ear, unafraid to let his unfiltered noises fill the room. When he knew he was being too rough, he’d slow his thrusts until he was dragging his dick in and out of you, pumping ever so slowly and lovingly. It was then he’d be able to coherently form sweet words of nothings, “I’m obsessed with you. Wanna keep you like this forever.”

Whether he was going rabid or making sweet love, Miguel still made sure to hold your hand through it all.

He can feel himself coming soon. As if he needed to be deeper into you, he only stops for a nanosecond to bring your knees over you, pressing you even deeper into the couch, so as to better ram your already abused pussy. Your panting heightens in pitch. “Right there, sweetheart? Aww Fuck, there it is.” His big, strong hands hold your knees in place where they frame your head. Your bodies are sweaty, only enhancing the lewd sounds of his hips smacking your ass with each thrust. When your pussy flutters around him, it makes his eyes roll back. He’s already made you orgasm twice by now, getting his juices all over you, but he needs more. “I can’t stop.” He stammers through a slack jaw.

“Mig…dunno if I c-can… going-”

He slows down his rhythm, hands cupping your face to make eye contact, “Baby, please, gimme one more, just one more. Promise.”

With a nod of your head, he buries you in his arms, his face in your neck, body on body, leaving no space between you, and he rams into you like no tomorrow, luring one last orgasm from you. The way the curve of his belly and muscles rubbed against you was the icing on the cake. You feel Miguel getting closer with the way he moans into the crook of your neck. You are, too.

The dam breaks loose with an outcry of his name, to which Miguel lifts his head to kiss your tears as you peak, his own following right behind. Once it starts to descend, a rain of butterfly kisses fall on your face, “I’ve got you, sweetie,” he coos, “I love you so much… mamita,” he gently calls to get your attention, “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You at least accomplish a weak smile, requiting the love with a kiss to his swollen lips.

There was no need to rush, so the two of you just lay there, embracing each other.

“Miguel,”

“Hm?” He hums against your skin.

“I feel like I’m in a fairytale.”

“Me too.”

6:49 PM.

You don’t know how, but in one hour, Miguel and you were able to go back to your place, shower (separately. You two knew a joint shower would’ve most definitely led to other things.), redo your makeup, fix your and Miguel’s hair, and leave to the stadium with moderate traffic. You look in the passenger seat mirror for the last touch-ups.

“Praying I don’t trip on that stage. If I do, it’s your fault.”

“I’ll happily take the blame.” He gives your thigh a small squeeze, in which you glare at him in return. The shit-eating grin on his face still made you smile, though.

You sit in your assigned seat among a sea of students, dawning the traditional cap and gown, with numerous achieved stoles and ropes around your neck, but only one stands out from them all, and one that you consider your best achievement: Gabriella’s Blue Ribbon.

You look down at it, giving it a little tug to straighten it out. You look up to search for Miguel in the enormous mass of seats, but it isn’t too hard. All you had to do was find the freakishly tall man with glasses, and when you do, you smile at him. As subtly as possible, he mouths ‘I love you’, and you do it back. You think to blow him a kiss, but given the situation, you also think it better not to in public. You still don’t have that degree in your hand, and you can’t risk anything, especially not when you’re so close. But trust, the second that piece of paper is in your hand, Miguel is all yours, no shame attached.

You’re on the edge of your seat the entirety of waiting for your name to be called, and once it is, you feel you could cry. You walk across the stage, a sense of accomplishment and fulfillment filling you to the brim. Miguel watches on, a prideful expression on his face. You shake hands with a few faculty members, some you grew to love and will cherish, some you secretly wished would accidentally fall through a manhole, before you get to the dean, who currently holds your degree in their hand. You’re congratulated once it’s in your hand, the feeling of two very difficult years weighing down on your hand. It feels good. Smiling ear-to-ear, you look out into the audience as you walk across, degree facing outward for the whole stadium to see because one thing for sure is that everyone in the establishment will know that you did that. Your smile shines like a thousand stars, at least to Miguel. His heart could explode with how much love and awe he feels for you. Heaven knows he tried to make a new life for himself by putting the Spider-Man title to rest, and though he was successful, he was still missing a piece of himself. In this moment, he’s thanking you for taking a chance on him; for letting a different man, a happy man, come out for a while, and hopefully, for the rest of his life.

And that’s where he sits now, in the car, waiting for you in the parking lot. Prior to the ceremony, it was agreed that Miguel would slip away just a couple of minutes early (basically skip the dean’s farewell speech) so that you and Miguel could beat the crowds and go celebrate wherever he had planned for you. Hoards of crying mothers and cheering students catch his attention. It must’ve ended. It only takes a moment for him to pick you out from the crowd, immediately exiting the car to open the passenger door for you.

“Congratulations, mi vida.” He calls out, leaning against the car.

Elated, you crash into him, arms around his neck, legs lifted in the air, and you kiss him. You pull away with a joyous mwah.

You both retreat into the car. “You helped, my cute lil geneticist.” Giddiness beams from your voice. You reach over the center console to cup his chin and squeeze it, puckering his lips to kiss him again and again. This makes him chuckle. He may be older and bigger in every sense of the word, but at the end of the day, he is and always will be your dork. Your teddy bear.

“I just taught you a few formulas. This was all you, mama,�� he starts the car but glances at you for a second. “What?” You tilt your head.

“I wanna thank you.”

“For what?” Every time Miguel opens his mouth, you’re reminded of what a lottery win you’ve made. You grab his hand to hold it up to your heart; the same spot where Gabriella’s ribbon is pinned.

“For loving me. The way you do.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me.”

His brows furrowed, his lips curled into a soft smile. He notices the blue ribbon. He caresses one of its tails, and a few of his heartstrings pull at the sight. He knows that if Gabriella were there, she would’ve been the loudest in the stands. “Wish she could’ve been here.”

You press his hand against your heart.

“She is.”

Miguel has told you so much about her that at this point, she feels like yours, and you feel that she’s there. You know with your whole heart that she is.

You both share one more tender kiss before Miguel pulls out of the lot.

“Well, it’s official. I am no longer your student. How do you feel about that?” you smirk, relaxed in your assigned seat; your rightful throne as passenger princess.

“Speaking of which, I hope you know that that degree is for decoration purposes from this day forward.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re quite the comedian today, huh?”

“You think I’m kidding? I want you home 24/7, you hear me? In the kitchen, an apron and all. I’m dead serious.” The sarcastic tone in his voice sends you chuckling through the nose.

“I’ll stay home and be your housewife if you give me a perfect score, how about that?”

“Deal.”

“Ok, no, but seriously, baby, please score my paper accurately.”

“Of course, beba. Just jokes. I’m kidding about the staying-home thing, too. You can do whatever you want,” He looks over at you at a red light, “Just as long as you always come back home to me.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You two snuggle in Miguel’s bed after a nice dinner celebrating you. The sheets are warm and soft, but it doesn’t compare to the warmth and softness of Miguel’s body on yours; skin to skin. You’re both entangled and nude, having just had another (or a few) rounds of passionate love. Sleep looms over both you and Miguel, a little heavier on you. You’re quickly learning that Miguel does not have the endurance of an average man.

Knowing how much you loved his speaking voice, he decided to finish and read aloud to you Pride and Prejudice, a book you recommended to him and has become a new favorite of his. A king of aftercare. How more perfect can he be?

Miguel, seeing your eyes grow heavy, kisses your temple and smiles before starting again, “ ‘I love you. You have bewitched me, mind, body, and soul. And wish from this day forth never to be parted from you.’” He recites the notorious line written by Austen, but not for the sake of reading aloud anymore, no. This line was directed to you. And only for you.

“And I love you.” You whisper back.

And for the first time in much more than just 5 years, Miguel didn’t have to go to bed alone. And he won’t have to ever again.

Miguel hasn’t thought about the canon theory in a very, very long time, but a fleeting thought went through his mind before drifting away:

If going through everything that he had to, may it be the day his genetic makeup was altered, the spider-verse, Gabriella, trading in the suit for a life of solitude, everything; Despite the pain, if it all had to happen in order to have met you.

Then it’ll all have been worth it.

<3 Tags <3

@mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive @faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi @little-lovelace @monstersimp @oharasfilipinawife @obi-mom-kenobi @hyjionie @maomaimao @pomakori @pinkhelados @mochimoqa @princesatracionera @queerponcho @walmaerts @froggygal @yaysposts @koko-1025 @kikaaauu @lauraolar14 @anotherprettyprincess @kaidxra @farrowroyale @pigeonmama @exactlyyoungchaos @fayeofthenightingale @s4dow @safixiovi

@hartsucks @amberbalcom14 @wait2nourh @tatooieve @helen-j-magnus @cl3stevu

@mintssanctuary @ghost-lantern @snails-doodles22 @tinythebunni @shaquilles-0atmeal @nina-from-317 @exoticb-utters @sugurusyndrome @aphinthestars

A/N: Fav chapter I've ever written. It was made with love <3 Really hoped you guys enjoyed it <3 n thnx sm for sticking around even if I made y'all wait so long 😭 love youuuuuuuu‼️ MWAH!!!

[pierregazly]

in the mind of another ꨄ max verstappen

max verstappen x fem!soulmate!reader

warnings: mentions of sexual themes (no smut), pining/yearning for another, tiny bit of angst but hea! [wc is 5.4k]

in which soulmates always have a way of building the connection with one another. for you and max, you've always been the voice instead the others head, the one thing that has always been a constant presence. but will that voice inside your head, ever be the voice you hear from in front of you?

By legal terms, a soulmate was defined as “person with whom one has a feeling of deep or natural affinity.  This may involve similarity, love, romance, platonic relationships, comfort, intimacy, sexuality, sexual activity, spirituality, compatibility and trust.” In today’s day and age, more often than not, your soulmate was that of romantic origin, a person you yearned for on a regular basis. 

It was something instilled in you at an early age, that everyone had a soulmate, but not everyone met their soulmate. Everyone had a way of interacting with their soulmate before they met. You learned early on, very early on, that you could interact with your soulmate through your mind. Through words, pictures, even internal conversations. But sometimes those interactions would lead to nothing, and your parents tried to ensure you were aware of that in the fear that you would be heartbroken one day.  

One thing you could never do was tell them your name, who you were, or where you were until it was time. It was like your mind would go elsewhere when you tried to tell the male on the other end who you were. He told you the same thing happened to him every time he tried.  

The both of you spent a plentiful amount of time interacting in your shared youth. He would often ramble on about his day, about go-karting, and his dad who he kind of hated but obviously loved, about his mum who he missed, and his sister who he couldn’t wait to see when she came to visit him wherever he was in the world. 

You would do the same, you’d tell him about the things you did that specific day, explain little things about your family, the things you looked forward to for the remainder of the week. It was something you both just got used to. 

The both of you grew up together. Even if it wasn’t physical, you were an emotional tether for one another when either of you needed it. He was there for almost all of your firsts, your first graduation, your first familial heartbreak, your first crush, your first boyfriend (which he was eager to help you through when it ended).  

Ever embarrassing to admit, he was even the one in your mind, more times than you can count, when you felt the butterflies in your tummy growing as your fingers explored different parts of your body. He always pushed you to continue, telling you exactly what he would do with his own fingers, or his own tongue; when he finally got the chance to make you feel the way you were making yourself feel. 

It was something you didn’t speak about after it happened, but it didn’t change the fact he was usually the one your brain went to when you made yourself feel that way. He argued it was the soulmate connection, that your soul just simply wanted him to be the one to do it. 

As time went on, the conversations dwindled amongst the two of you, both of you growing up and growing out of the fantasy that you would meet your soulmate one day, meet each other. 

You still got glimpses into his brain occasionally, pictures of blue and red cars, racecars are what you presumed. His fingers on what looked like a controller, but turned out to be a steering wheel when you asked him what it was. 

“Seems like a bit of an extravagant steering wheel, no?” 

The silent laugh was loud in your mind, as if you could feel his body rumbling in its laughter at your words, “Pretty extravagant, yeah. Not everyone gets to use something like this, though.” 

“Explain the steering wheel to me, there’s too many buttons and toggles,” you prompted him, knowing full well it would dive him deep into an explanation about the object you so often saw inside his head. 

That was another thing you learned about him early on. He liked to explain everything. He used to spend hours describing the go-karts he drove every weeknight and weekend, putting as much detail and emphasis into his explanations so that you would better understand. As time went on, so did his explanations, explaining situations he’s found himself in around the world, explaining how his career was kicking his ass but how he loved it, occasionally getting drunk and explaining how soulmates worked and that it was inevitable you’d meet one day, even if it felt like that day was never coming.  

Not wanting to be the one to burst his fantasy and ruin whatever hope he had, you would usually just nod along and silently hum to him when the conversation of eventually meeting one day was brought up. 

You still shared nights together, even from thousands of miles apart, your brain yearning for him as his did the same. 

There were moments in time, where you were positive you had almost met him, or perhaps had made eye contact with him. It was a small feeling inside of you, like everything you were looking for was in the same building as you, or around the corner, or even in the same city. 

Usually just as fast as the feeling appeared, it was gone. It never lasted for long periods of time, it was like your soulmate bond was teasing you, pushing for you to reinstate your faith in the connection. He always argued that if you lost faith in the soulmate bond, it would lose faith in trying to push the two of you together. 

Yet another thing you learned early on, whoever he was, arguing was in his blood. If he disagreed with you, with something you said, or with an opinion you had, he would go off into a whole explanation and argument about why he knew you were wrong, and how he knew he was right. 

It was endearing, how passionate he was about everything in his life, and seeing how his passion for everything just continued to grow as he grew up.  

Over the last 8 years, you had learned not to even attempt to communicate with him on Saturday or Sundays. He had told you that it was the busiest time of the work week for him, and that he couldn’t handle internal distractions on those days. 

You would only speak to him when he spoke to you on those days. Usually it was a fleeting ‘have a nice rest of your weekend’ or ‘I can’t wait until you’re here with me, celebrating this with me’.  

He never elaborated on the last part, and you never went out of your way to ask. Whoever he was, he was usually celebrating something on Sundays, at least that’s what you assumed from the raw happiness and elation that usually went through your connection on those days. 

You hadn’t heard from him, from your soulmate, in weeks. Which wasn’t necessarily unusual, either of you could cut off the connection for weeks at a time if things were stressful in life, or if you just needed a break from the never-ending person that was inside your head at all times. 

It didn’t mean you didn’t miss his dry sense of humour, the bluntness with which he said things to you, the never-ending arguments about the stupidest things. You would never admit any of this to him, though.  

Ignoring the yearning-feeling from inside of you, you allowed yourself to think about how things would be if you ever met the person on the other end of the connection. Would it be instant happiness? Relief? Joy? 

People always explained their own experiences to you, saying it was like love at first sight, but amplified so significantly, because it felt like your soul was complete, like everything was finally where it needed to be in life. They described it as meeting the one thing that made you whole, the one thing that made you continuously push to be your best self, to continuously push to be better at everything you did in life.  

You truly couldn’t believe what they said, not that it sounded exaggerated or silly. It was just difficult to imagine anything causing a feeling so instantaneously and intense as what they described.  

Your friends had disappeared earlier in the day, eager to try and find themselves different drivers throughout the entrances to get photos or autographs with. You really had no interest in any of it. Your soulmate had eagerly admired, and shit talked almost every single person on the grid to you, at least once or twice, so it really wasn’t worth trying to interact with any of them after that. 

Your paddock pass sat heavily on your chest, the lanyard rubbing against your neck as the bright Sun shined down upon your skin. The cheering of the Tifosi could be heard throughout the entire fan sections. The Ferrari faithful were dedicated, especially at their own Grand Prix. 

He had told you that Monza was one of the ones not to miss. That it was electric, regardless of who you drove for, even if the fans were booing your favourite driver, or your favourite team, it was a delight to drive in Monza. 

You found yourself staring at the different drivers names that were wrapped around the seating section. Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell... Max Verstappen. 

He was handsome, that you could admit. With his pretty blue eyes, and his arrogant little smirk, and his annoying obsession with having to win.  

“Oh, you think Max Verstappen has pretty blue eyes, huh?”  

A small sound erupted from your chest as you listened to the words floating through your head from the man you hadn’t heard from in weeks. 

“Look who’s alive! Thought you got lost with your little controller steering wheel.” 

Laughing at your words, “You didn’t answer my question! You think Max Verstappen has pretty eyes?” 

“I think Max Verstappen himself is pretty. Other than when he’s being an arrogant prick.” 

That feeling had been eating at you all day, again. Like your soulmate bond was trying to force you to go in a direction you weren’t understanding. It was like it was trying to tell you that he was here, that he was so close you could almost smell him, almost touch him. You had been ignoring the little jabs inside of you all day, refusing to acknowledge the fact that maybe, just maybe, the person you were yearning for so heavily, was so close. 

“My soulmate just called me an arrogant prick, without realizing she was calling me an arrogant prick.”  

The Brit in front of him guffawed, his whole body moving as he gripped his side at Max’s words, “Mate, how did that even happen?” 

Shrugging his shoulders as he looked at Lando, “Not too sure. I haven’t heard from her in a few weeks, figured she had shut the connection off for some time alone and all of a sudden, she’s thinking about how ‘Max Verstappen has such pretty blue eyes’ and then told me that I’d... or he’d be attractive all the time if he wasn’t such an arrogant prick.”  

Patting his shoulder gently, all Lando did was grin at him, “Just think, mate. At least whoever she is, she thinks you have pretty eyes and that you’re good looking when you’re not being an arrogant prick.” 

Max shoved him as he walked by, walking away in the direction of his driver's room. He had been having that feeling again, like his body was yearning for something that it couldn’t explain to him. He had tried to ask a few people about it, had asked Sebastian in the past if it was something he had experienced before meeting Hanna. Of course, Seb hadn’t been much help when one considered the fact that he and his soulmate had met in their shared childhood. 

It wasn’t something he could ask either of his parents, both admitting long ago that they weren’t destined for one another and that they had never had a connection with their true soulmates, which allowed them to willingly marry each other. Victoria had met her soulmate and now husband when they were young as well, so she would be of no help. 

He was almost embarrassed to ask Christian, or any other older person who had already met their soulmate. He was a grown man, he could literally just google it if he wanted to, but what exactly would he type in? 

What is that weird yearning feeling I get every now and then, out of the blue, in random buildings or random cities? 

Max was almost positive the answer would be ‘allergies’ or ‘hunger’. He figured that maybe it was soulmate related, it would make sense, but it wasn’t a feeling he had often. It wouldn’t make sense to only yearn so heavily for your soulmate in certain areas. 

It was always the strongest when he felt like he was truly connecting with you. He noticed it for the first time when both of you had touched yourselves to the sound of the other, egging one another on, saying exactly what the both of you know the other wanted to hear. Max couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed that time with you, how intimate it was, how much he craved to be the one making you moan and whimper. 

The feeling always grew after that, the yearning for the other person, the desire to have you there with him, the desire to have you underneath him after a night of celebration, the desire to have you wrapped in his arms, the desire to send you an unnecessary bouquet of flowers... if he could just figure out who you were, all of that would be possible.  

But the yearning today was different. It was like his body was trying to tell him he needed to go somewhere, trying to encourage him to walk down halls he didn’t usually walk down, or trying to push him in directions that made no sense.  

“You gonna tell me why you’re thinking of Max Verstappen so much today, and why you’re thinking so much about his pretty blue eyes?” 

He could feel the involuntary smile reach his lips when he heard your soft laugh. He really tried not to be someone who was smitten with a person he had never met, but he couldn’t deny that he was in love with you, likely had been since the both of you were young.  

You were the one constant in his life, the one person he could always turn to when he needed someone. You listened to all his ranting, dealt with hours upon hours of ‘Maxsplaining’, dealt with unnecessary outbursts and temper tantrums, but you never complained about it. You always eagerly pushed for him to continue, asking him more and more questions, prompting him out of his head and prompting him to get over whatever frustration had pushed him over the edge that day.  

“If you must know. I’m at the Monza Grand Prix, and I had to get away from all the Ferrari fans for a bit, pretty sure they were going to blow my ear drums. Max Verstappen’s name is everywhere, so I, of course, had to internally acknowledge his attractiveness while grimacing at his name in front of me.” 

Max felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. You were here? In Italy? At the Monza Grand Prix? The same place where he was, at this very moment, at this very second?  

He could tell you were waiting for a response from him to your words. It was like he could sense the raise of your eyebrows from the silence that emitted between your connection.  

“You’re in Monza?” He questioned eagerly, his hands sweating as he waited for a response 

“Yes sir, just about to try and force myself to go find my friends and head back to the paddock so I can avoid getting trampled by any other Ferrari fans.” 

Max knew almost instantly that, that had to be what the feeling was. The yearning. You were close by, and his side of the soulmate connection knew it.  

He had tried to tell you who he was before, had tried to explain it to you in words that the connection wouldn’t muffle or meddle with. It never worked. Any time he tried to explain to you who he was, or what he did for a living, it was like his brain malfunctioned and he had to hotwire it back on. 

You had told him the same thing happened to you every time you tried to explain to him who you were, or the easiest ways to find you in the real world. Every time either of you tried, it was like the connection was shutting it down. 

Daniel had told him it was likely the bond, telling him it wasn’t the time yet, that the both of you had to wait until the bond was steady and ready for you to finally meet in person. Max had never believed it, until right now.  

You had never been able to tell him exactly where you were before, at least, not that he can ever remember. You had told him the things you were doing in the past, had told him the people you were spending time with, even that you were getting dinner in certain districts. Any time you had tried to tell him the restaurant, or the city even, the connection would malfunction. 

But you were just mentally able to tell him where you were, you were internally able to tell him where you were going in the place that you currently were. 

“I’m... I’m in Monza too. At the Grand Prix, I mean.” 

He could almost feel the instant shock and excitement at his words. Before he or you could get the chance to say anything else, he heard GP calling for him, the annoyed expression on his face an indication that he had been looking for Max for far longer than he actually wanted to be.  

“I have to get back to work. Please, don’t leave before you hear from me again. Maybe this is a sign.” 

You could practically feel the shock coursing through your body. Both of you were here. In Monza. At the Grand Prix. At the same time, together... but not together? You tried to contain the giddiness at his words, a silent hum in acknowledgement when he told you not to leave. How could you leave? Especially now that you knew he was here? And that he was working? 

It gave you some indication as to why he was always so busy on Saturdays and Sundays, if he worked for a Formula 1 team, or for Formula 1 in itself. Their biggest days of the week were the weekends, especially during race weeks. It made sense why he could never talk on those days of the week, or why he always seemed so happy or moody on Sundays. 

You couldn’t believe that both of you were able to tell each other where the other was, that the connection finally allowed you to give that little tidbit of important information to the other. Maybe it finally was time, maybe the connection was finally allowing you to meet the one person you had been yearning for, even if you tried to convince yourself that you weren’t.  

The text message to your friends asking where they were garnered a response, which prompted you out of your train of thought. Letting them know that you were on your way to their location, your brain moved back to the previous thought your mind was on. He was here, like truly here. Within the same 10 kilometers as you. Probably the closest either of you had ever been to each other before. 

Your friends greeted you eagerly when you finally found them, excitably telling you all about the drivers they had met, how Alex Albon even recognized two of them from previous Grand Prix and how they just knew Charles Leclerc was going to win today because the Tifosi were going crazy and how could you not win with all that support screaming for you? 

Nodding along with a smile on your face, you had an inkling they were wrong. Max Verstappen was likely going to get his tenth win in a row, but you weren’t going to say that to them.  

The drivers parade went by faster than you were expecting, before you knew it, the cars and their drivers were lining up in their respective places along the grid. Your friends eagerly itching for a better view of the upcoming race. You couldn’t even put the effort in to pay attention, wondering where he was right now.  

Was he working? Was he one of the mechanics? One of the pit crew, eagerly waiting for their driver to pull into their spot? One of the engineers, hoping their instructions and their drivers did as they were supposed to? You tried not to let your mind wander to the other possibility, but it was hard not to. 

What if he was one of the drivers? One of the 20 men now pushing themselves around the track at the fastest speed their car could take them? You tried not to stay on that thought too long, but your mind seemed to wander back to it.  

It would make sense, really. Whoever he is, he had been karting since he was a boy. His father had been unnecessarily forceful with him about it, always pushing him even when he was down, telling him that champions didn’t cry and that if he wanted to win everything one day, he had to act like he wanted to.  

He always made it seem like he was on top of the world on Sundays, like everything he ever wanted had happened that day. Would a mechanic, or an engineer, or someone from the pit crew consistently have that level of elation on Sundays?  

You knew it was possible, if they were working for a winning team, or a winning driver, and that driver was making their lives as easy as possible, then you knew it was definitely a possibility. You just couldn’t shake the idea that maybe, just maybe, it was one of the drivers. 

The crowd was cheering as eagerly as they possibly could, Verstappen had overtaken Sainz three laps prior after the Spainard had led for 15 laps straight. The Tifosi were relentless though, cheering as loud as they could for their two drivers. Your friends had resigned themselves to the fact that Verstappen was getting his tenth win in a row, which was slowly coming closer and closer as the time ticked down. 

It felt like time was zooming by; the minutes on the clock trickling down as the stadium waited for that last lap to start. Sainz was battling to keep Leclerc in fourth, doing everything in his power to keep the third podium spot he had rightfully earned. 

The checkered flag waved as the Red Bull car of Max Verstappen passed the finish line, a simultaneous cheer erupting within the crowd when the two red Ferrari’s passed the line with barely a second apart. 

That feeling inside of you, the yearning, it had been getting stronger and stronger throughout the race. Strong enough that you had to rub at your chest with a grimace more than once, ignoring the signs that obviously your soul connection was trying to give to you.  

The television in front of you showed Max Verstappen on the top of his car, both hands and 10 fingers up as he stared at the moving camera, an obvious celebration beginning as he ran towards his team. Verstappen jumped at them, right as you heard his voice in your head. 

“Where are you right now? I want to see you. I need to see you.” 

He sounded out of breath, but elated, as per usual on a Sunday. Must work for Red Bull then, you thought to yourself. 

“I don’t really know how to explain where I am, I’m in the Paddock Club with my friends.”  

Turning away from the screen, you tried to focus on the words coming through the connection. 

“Come to the area where you can go towards the garages, I’ll have someone tell security to let you in. What are you wearing? I don’t think you’ll be able to tell me your name yet, and I don’t want to risk fucking this up.” 

You had absolutely no clue how to find the area he was describing to you, explaining to him that you didn’t spend most of your time at Grand Prix’s unlike someone, apparently. All he did was laugh joyfully, explaining to you in simpler terms how to get to where he wanted you to go. 

“I have to go do a few more things, but just wait for me, okay? I’ll come to find you, the moment I’m done. I swear.” 

“I’ve waited for years; I think I can wait a few minutes more.” 

He didn’t verbally respond, but you could still feel the happiness, the sense of something you could only describe as adoration come through the connection before he shut it off again. It was obvious he had commitments, but it was disheartening knowing you still had to wait a few more minutes, that he wouldn’t be there waiting for you, behind whatever security guard you were going to have to verbally grapple with to be let behind the barricades. 

All you told your friends when you left was you had to go make a call, and that it may take a few minutes. They tried to argue with you, telling you the drivers were just about to do their post-race interviews and that it was always one of the best parts, but you simply brushed them off, eager to get to where you needed to be. 

It didn’t take you long to find where he had told you to go, his explanations as thorough and necessary as they usually were. Before you could even get a word out to the security guard, a tall brunette in a Red Bull shirt lightly tapped your shoulder and gestured for you to follow her, flashing her entry pass at the guard and pulling you along. 

“I’m Liv. I work in PR with Red Bull; I was told to wait for you. Sorry for just like... pulling you along. No one really gave me any explanation, just that I was told to look out for someone wearing the exact same outfit you are, and that it had something to do with a soulmate thing and I couldn’t get involved or ask questions.” 

“This pass will get you in and out of pretty much wherever you need to be in the Red Bull garage and areas nearby,” the brunette rambled on as the both of you walked, pulling a second entry pass from her back pocket to give to you. 

Both of you stopped in front of what only could be the hospitality lounge, if the plethora of food and drinks were any indication. You didn’t necessarily know where to go, or where to stand, so you looked back over at the brunette with confusion evident in your eyes. 

“Just wait here! He shouldn’t be long. Feel free to snack, or make yourself a tea, or you know... drink whatever really. I have to get back to work. Just like, don’t leave. I’ll probably get in trouble for that. Anyways, bye! Good luck!”  

Not giving you the chance to respond, Liv, as you learned previously, turned and basically ran out of the room. You were left alone in the hospitality area, everyone from Red Bull obviously still celebrating Max Verstappen’s tenth win in a row. 

You didn’t know what to do with yourself, deciding to sit down on one of the couches being the only real option you could decipher. The television was on low, the interviewer speaking to Sainz, Perez, and Verstappen. 

“You look eager to get out of here, Max. Big celebration planned for your tenth straight win?” 

The Dutchman chuckled, a cocky grin prominent on his face, “I have something I have to do after this, of course, though, not the celebration right away. I’m sure the team has a celebration planned, but it’s a bit arrogant of me to be involved in my own celebration party planning, no?” 

The interviewer laughed in response; you simply cocked your head at his words. Ironic that Max Verstappen would call himself arrogant, just hours after you had told him how arrogant you found Verstappen.

A few more questions zoomed by; your own thoughts preoccupied by the idea that your soulmate could be coming towards the room at any minute. The feeling in your chest, in your body as a whole, had grown substantially again since you sat down. What you didn’t notice was him grabbing his chest at the same time you did, rubbing it with a grimace as the yearning grew and grew. 

It didn’t take long for the interview to end, the television going back to the reporters as the drivers evidently went to go do whatever it is they do after their post-race interviews. 

You could hear someone walking down the hallway, which was strange considering how busy the Red Bull garage had to be right now. The steps grew louder as they got closer and closer to the room you were in, the door slamming open being the only thing to pull you out of your thoughts as you spun around. 

Making direct eye contact with your soulmate for the first time was exactly how everyone described it. It was instant, the feeling that seated itself inside your heart, inside your mind. It felt like you were whole, like everything you had done in the past 24 hours, let alone the past 10 years, had led you to this exact moment. 

You subconsciously moved off the couch, stepping in the direction of the man that was now eyeing your every move. You couldn’t tell what was going through his mind, whether he was happy, disheartened, you didn’t know. 

He stepped in your direction, just as you put another foot towards him. You could see the corners of his lips turning up, a smile starting to edge itself onto his cheeks.  

“I can’t believe you’re really here. In front of me. Like, a real person.” 

It was the same voice that you’ve heard in your head for years, except the words were coming from the mouth of the man in front of you, coming from the mouth of the man with the prettiest blue eyes you had ever seen. 

You barely had time to process anything before he had wrapped his arms around you, pulling you directly into his chest as you wrapped your own arms around his body.  

He was real. Everything you had yearned for, for years was real, and Max was right there, holding you in his arms as he pressed his lips against the crown of your head, not wanting to let you go. 

Max could barely contain his eagerness as he basically sprinted down the hall of the Red Bull garage after the end of the interview. Olivia had told him where she had brought you, telling you to wait in the hospitality lounge and that he’d be there to see you as quickly as he could get out. 

He couldn’t believe that you were really there. After spending years of talking to an invisible force inside his head, years of having a constant companion who he could turn to for internal comfort, you were barely seconds away from him. 

Max didn’t hesitate to throw the door of the lounge open, making eye contact with you just a second later. 

Everyone was right, the feeling you get when you finally meet your soulmate, the person that’s supposed to complete you in the best of ways. It was instant love, instant happiness, a feeling better than any win he had ever accomplished, a feeling that could barely be explained in one million words.  

He knew right then that he loved you, and when you smiled at him, he knew you knew it too.  

i am obsessed with the soulmate trope so this obviously got out of hand and way more descriptive than i intended. im hoping you all love it as much as i loved writing it!! let me know what you think

my requests are also open :)

taglist

@leclercdream @myescapefromthislife @iloveyou3000morgan @love4lando @asfaraslifegets @decseptapril @somanyfandomsbruh

if you're interested in being added to my taglist, just send me a message/reply and ill add ya. i lost my list of who asked so if you weren't tagged and wanted to be pls let me know. (if your name has a strike through it, it wouldn't let me tag you)

[xxxanteaterxxx]

Roommates AU

roommate!remuslupin x fem!reader

CW: swearing, thats about it really.

lemme know what you thinkkkkk part 2

this is totally inspired by @moonstruckme btw

"So, do you have anything specific that you're looking for mate?" James asked, staring down out his laptop. Remus sighed; he had been looking for an apartment for weeks, but nothing had turned up in the area he was interested in.

"Honestly, anywhere would work at this point." Remus was looking at his own laptop, scrolling through all of the postings he could find. Nothing was available through, and Remus was about to be homeless.

He couldn't afford to keep living in his current flat, not since his roommate had decided to move back home. Remus had been stressing over this for months now, ever since his roommate had told him the news.

"How do you feel about a roommate bud?" Sirius asked suddenly, sitting up from where he had been laying down and scrolling on his phone. He stretched his arm out towards Remus, waving his phone around.

Remus snatched it and took a look at the posting Sirius was looking at.

"Two bedroom and one bath apartment. Looking for a roommate ASAP. Rent is $500 a month (utilities included). Message me for more information. :)"

There were pictures underneath the post. Remus clicked on the first one. It looked nice enough to him. He forwarded the post to himself before he messaged about it.

"I'm gonna send a message, see if I can schedule a walk through." Remus sighed as he tossed the phone back to Sirius, who seemed highly impressed at his find. He picked up his own phone and found the post.

He clicked the message icon at the bottom of the post.

`Hey, I saw your post about looking for a roommate. Is the room still available? Could I maybe come by for a tour soon? `

He sent the message before setting his phone to the side and continuing the search. Not expecting to receive a response for a while.

Not even two minutes later his phone buzzed. He grabbed it and sat up when he saw the response.

`Would today work? Maybe around 12? `

Remus was quick to respond.

`Yes, 12 works great!`

Then he followed it up with another.

`Can I bring some friends?`

The reply came just as fast.

'Yes, I'll see you then!'

Remus stood up, a large smile growing on his face. To say he was relieved was the understatement of the year. He looked at his friends.

"I've got a tour scheduled at 12 today, you guys wanna come?" He questioned. He really hoped they would, what if you were a serial killer and the post was only a ploy to draw unsuspecting victims in.

"Course mate! Its 10 now, what if we head out and find some food around that area?" James asked, causing Sirius to jump up quickly.

"Let me grab my shoes!" He called as he raced down the hall to his room. Remus shook his head and gathered his belongings.

It was right around 12 when there was a knock at your apartment door. Abandoning the cookies you were making, you raced over to the door. You had almost made it too, but the fuzzy socks adorning your feet caused you to fall.

You groaned as you pushed yourself up and yanked the door open with a large smile on your face. It dropped slightly when you realized that it was men on the other side.

"Hi! I'm Remus, we're uh here for the apartment tour?" There were three guys standing outside. The tallest of them was the one who had spoken. You nodded and opened the door wider for them to enter.

"I'm Y/N! I'm sorry about the mess..." You gestured around the living room. "It's my day off and I've been bingeing some shows." You kept a smile on your face as one of the other boys chuckled.

"So, let's get on with the tour!" You clapped your hands together. "I'll show you around and then let you guys look around by yourselves, yeah?" Receiving nods, you turned around and began the speech you had practiced in the mirror when you and received the message.

"Obviously this is the living room..." You mumbled and then walked towards the kitchen. Before entering you turned around. "Warning, I'm making cookies right now, so the kitchen is a bit of a mess."

You entered and they filed in after you, looking around and nodding to themselves. "Cookies anyone?" You asked as you grabbed the plate of the ones that were ready. They each reached out and grabbed one.

"These are amazing." You heard someone moan.

Moving on you began to lead them upstairs. "Right there is the bathroom and right here is my room and right here is the other room!" You said walking quickly down the hall and pointing things out as you did so. You turned around to face the three. "Any questions?"

No one answered and so you nodded. "Smashing, have a look around. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me!" And with that, you were darting back downstairs just as the alarm for your second round of cookies beeped.

Sirius was staring after you like you were the love of his life. His mouth hung open and his eyes were wide. James cleared his throat while looking at his best friend and roommate in amusement. Sirius shook his head and turned to look at Remus.

"Well, if you don't want to live here, I sure fucking do." He said before he walked past Remus and into the room you had said was the available one.

It was a nice sized bedroom with a window and a very large closet. Remus was quite impressed with it actually and you seemed nice enough.

He could definitely see himself living here, even if it was with a total stranger. He walked back out into the hall, heading for the bathroom to have a look in there.

You seemed pretty neat; all of your stuff was kept on a shelf and in a couple of drawers. Remus noticed how big the bathtub was, and he sighed at the thought of a nice bath.

As he walked further down the hall, he realized that your door was open, and he had to fight the urge to take a look around. He turned to walk back to the room that would be his so that he could ask James what he thought but his two friends were gone.

He listened for a second as he heard talking coming from downstairs. He turned and made his way towards the stairs. As he made it down and saw that no one was in the living room, he headed for the kitchen next. There he saw James and Sirius sat at the table while you danced around the kitchen cleaning things up.

"These are delicious, by the way." James spoke after chewing what looked to be one of the cookies you had made. You turned from the sink to grin at him. When you saw Remus, you smiled and wiped your hands on the towel thrown over your shoulder.

"So, what did you think?" You smiled at him this time, your question had alerted the other two to his presence. Sirius answered before Remus himself could.

"Well, if he doesn't want it, I fucking do!" He spoke loudly causing James to look at him.

"And what about our fucking apartment?" James asked incredulously, looking at his friend as if he had just stabbed him. You paid them no mind as you looked at Remus for an answer.

"I'll take it. When's the soonest I can move in?" Your shoulders sagging in relief at his answer.

"Oh, thank fuck, no one else has responded and the last chap I had look around gave me the Heeby jeebies." You paused, blowing a strand of hair from your face as you thought about it. "How about as soon as bloody possible eh? That work for you?"

Remus nodded and a brilliant smile formed on your face.

"Great, let me fetch the lease agreement."

[kooktrash]

his special secret | kim taehyung

summary: you’re an art student who has recently broken up with your cheating ex boyfriend. he’s your art professor recovering from a divorce just a year ago. what happens when your relationship goes beyond that of a professor and his college student?

➢ genre/au: college art professor!tae x art student!y/n [she/her… afab] [age gap 9 years]

➢ 12.5k words

warnings: smüt. secret relationship. tae is 30, y/n is 21. car sëx. oral [f&m]. make out. groping. tae is divorced. both got cheated on in past. jealous tae. dirty talk. makeout in art closet. y/n is confident but going thru it. professor x student. no protection. y/n is on top.

[REUPLOAD] HIS SPECIAL SECRET 2

You know when you're really mad to the point that you wanna cry? Not because you're sad but because you're so mad and you can't even act on that anger, especially not right now, you couldn't even show that you're upset because you're in class. Obviously it started off with your stupid ass ex-boyfriend's tenth apology text where it was mostly just him trying to gaslight you. Then it was because of missing the bus to campus which made you have to get a taxi and spend way more money than necessary, but get this, you spent like 20$ so you wouldn't miss your first class and yet it was canceled. Canceled! After spending that money to make it for that specific lecture you walk over to the room only to find a big fat 'canceled' sign on the door. Plus,  you had enough time to catch the next bus if the professor only posted or emailed everyone saying it was cancelled, hell you could’ve even slept longer.

Your phone is still being blown up and you just can’t focus on your painting today. You can’t mix the right shade and it is beginning to drive you crazy. Your palette is getting too full and your water is so dirty that it isn’t even cleaning the brush anymore. You had already been trying to keep your cool this entire time but now you can’t take it anymore. You were so upset with the trillion texts you were being sent and with your painting not going the way you wanted it too, oh and missing the bus and class being canceled, you were very clearly overstimulated and overwhelmed. You felt like there is nothing you can do but just give up for the day.

You stood abruptly taking your brushes and palette to the sink in the back of the room. You dried and packed them all up not caring to say anything to anyone else as you picked up your bags and canvas. You put your things away and left, not turning back to professor who looked up from helping another person to watch you leave so suddenly. You finally got your phone out and dialed one of your friend's number hearing it ring twice before they picked.

"What do you want? I'm trying to take a nude here?"

"Can you pick me up? I'm done with classes," you asked him. You weren't even that far from the classroom but you were done. You had been working on the same part for over twenty minutes and it was not getting any better so you just had to go.

"You're lucky I was gonna go get Bora too, I'll be there in fifteen," Jungkook said finishing up his last shirtless picture before going for you two.

"Will that be all for today?" A voice spoke up behind you as your call came to an end. You jumped looking back and following the voice's direction and froze at the sight of your professor.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I just—I can't focus today," you sighed rambling out a shitty excuse. He huffed crossing his arms over his chest. You swear your professor came from a world where only the most attractive people are born. It wasn't even you being dramatic, it's just the facts. He had dark hair always styled neatly, his face was angular yet soft and his dark brows made his expressions more attractive. His voice was always so low that it was quite literally mouth watering and he loved wearing long sleeve button ups where he could just roll his sleeves up if he got too hot. You looked at his face, snapping yourself out of your thoughts at his expression.

He looked annoyed, but he kept himself neutral as he spoke, "The exhibition is next month. You only have a few weeks to finish the piece before the submission deadline. Don't you think you should try to focus on your painting?"

"I did try Professor Kim, I've just been—there's just a lot going on and—" you stopped suddenly staring at his left hand, a silver band no longer there. You stuttered a little to start again, "I apologize."

"Mhm," he muttered looking away from you to the others inside the art studio focused on their work, "Just go on, make sure the next time you step into the studio you're more focused."

Dick. "Of course sir," you said turning your back to leave finally. You got to the campus entrance just in time meeting Bora along the way and the two of you got into Jungkook's car. He was shirtless as he drove.

"What's up with you?" You asked buckling yourself in as you got in the passenger's seat. He was on his phone looking up at you through sunglasses that made you laugh, "You look like such a douche."

"Shut up I told you I was taking nudes," he said as he drove away, "Plus I'm hungover and the sun's way too bright but I wanna know what took you two so damn long."

"Oh my god I left my laptop in the journalism room so I had to go all the way to get it and you know I hate walking too much," Bora said from the back seat. You sighed, "Mr. Kim caught me outside and he kind of lectured me but it's whatever. You won't believe what I noticed today—"

"What?" The two said in harmony ready for any sort of gossip. You looked genuinely surprised, "He doesn't have a wedding ring anymore." They leaned back in disappointment.

"Yeah we know," Bora said sarcastically, "Everyone's been talking about it since last semester. The word is he must've gotten divorced over the summer."

"Wait so it's almost been a year? How did I not know? He's so young," you said with furrowed brows trying to understand what you were being told. Jungkook sighed dramatically, "Because you had a boyfriend and you're not into older men."

"He's like 30, that's not old, first of all," Bora cut in, "And Y/n has daddy or mommy issues, so she's probably into older men."

"How did this get turned on me?" You asked looking between the two before settling your eyes on Bora, "He really got divorced? I thought he'd been with her since he was 20."

“Yeah, apparently word on campus is that he caught her with her coworker," Bora told you, "Minho from the Tech department heard it in the staff room. Apparently he was asked to help with some computer problem and two teachers were talking about it. He told his girlfriend and she's told basically everyone."

"Why do so many care?" Jungkook asked pulling up to your apartment. Bora gasped, "Why? Because he is literally the world's most attractive man? He's like a God. I promise you everyone has a crush on him and that's why so many of the beginner art class was filled. Everyone wanted to have him as a teacher even if they weren't art majors."

"Is that why you signed up for an art theory class this semester?" You asked turning to her. She nodded with a pout, "Yeah but it was already filled. You're so lucky he's head of the department and you're in your third year. You get to work with him more since his focus is on proficient students.”

"He's super strict though," you told her with a defeated sigh, "But I guess he's honest. You have to be ready to face critique and he's helpful. He just makes you feel like shit when you're not focused."

"I bet he's an ass because he's probably not getting laid," Jungkook laughed, "Divorce does that to people. Turns them bitter."

"Are you kidding? Look at him, women must be all over him, hell half of us on campus would gladly have him," Bora swooned. You looked down at your phone, yet another text message from your shitty ex-boyfriend.

"Y/n you should sleep with him," Bora joked, "Since you're both newly single and you'll be a good shoulder for him to cry on."

"Thanks but I like guys my own age and I’m pretty sure being his student already complicates things enough," you said absentmindedly before reading over the newest text. It's been at least two weeks and he still hasn't quit trying to gaslight you. It was ridiculous and so damn tiring. Your professor was right, you had to focus on art and this was only a distraction. You'll have to stay over time tomorrow because he hasn't left you alone today.

namjoon: I srsly don't get y you're still ignoring me

namjoon: you kno I'd never do something to hurt u

        One of the best parts about being an art student who has finished their prerequisites is that now you can really just focus on your work. So you'd basically go to one or two art classes and then you would go and work on your art. Bora was right when she said he was your mentor and it was in fact pretty exclusive.

You sold a painting last year in the Spring Art Exhibit for the university and Professor Kim became a lot more helpful. Despite his young age he had great connections in the art world from financers to auctioneers and museums. He helped proficient students participate in more exhibits and some art auctions where they could be noticed for their work and now you're one of them. Obviously he could be strict but it's because he saw potential in you and you definitely did not want to disappoint him. That's why you've spent majority of your day here well into the evening. You did have to work later but it would be open for at least another hour and that's enough time to adjust some color blocking. The sunset was long gone and you’ve barely been twenty minutes into your groove when someone else entered the studio.

You lowered the music coming from your speaker immediately at the sight of your teacher. He looked at you for a moment before continuing his walk to his desk. You tried going back to your work but now all you could think about is how dumb you were for not noticing he was divorced even if it didn’t matter to you at all. He was fishing some black portfolio out of a drawer as he spoke, "A custodian should be by soon to mop the floors and lock the room. You'll probably want to leave soon."

"Yes, I’ll start cleaning up now," you sighed as you looked at the very little work you got done. You could obviously try and work on it at home but that was too distracting. Your apartment was small and filled with distractions and there wasn't enough room for your things. It was a three canvas piece and with the easel and all your paints, brushes, palettes, and sketches spread out on the floor there's no room. At least here you had places to lock it up in. It got awkward again as you cleaned up your space and he did something at his desk. So, awkwardly, you tried to fill the silence, "Any plans this weekend, sir?"

"Nothing too interesting," he said seriously as he shuffled through some documents to find something, "Probably nothing like what all of you get up to on the weekend."

You assumed he was talking about college students. You went to one of those Universities that was extremely popular for producing majority of the well-paid lawyers, athletes, engineers, actors, musicians and artists. The student succession rate was high and yet every weekend every college student was out there getting completely shitfaced because of stress. You shrugged, "Well mine’s not interesting either, I have to work all weekend."

You doubt he cares at all but you said it anyway. Mr. Kim left shortly after with a quick goodbye and you rushed to catch the bus.

        Taehyung's weekend didn't completely start till Saturday night. His Friday night was filled with directing a new upcoming event happening. The exhibit is in a month and Taehyung's been stuck calling buyers and businesses for confirmation in their attendances. It was really a large charity event where large corporations get publicity and popularity from but a lot of the students who have managed to put their name out there are pretty well known in the art world. Many have gone on to create their exhibitions and events for their art and have had large commissions. The school did a really good job at providing their students with advantages in their careers and Taehyung was pretty proud to be helping his art major students. Of course it was stressing but it was an honor at his age. Obviously it helped that his parents were well known art curators and have worked with foreign and home artists for years. The only thing that was hard is how much work it really was and with the shitty year he's had he needs a break.

"It's been a year Taehyung, nobody's telling you to find another wife," his best friend Jimin said as him and his two friends sat at the counter of some lounge bar. "We're just saying you should at least have post-divorce sex with some random chick and let off some steam. It's a Saturday night, I say we hit up some night club after this."

"No thanks, I'm not in the mood to be shoved around by drunk college kids," Yoongi cut in as he read over the drink menu as the bartender showed up. He gave his drink order first putting the attention on Taehying and Jimin making him look up. His mouth opened slightly in surprise at the sight before him.

You managed to hide your surprise at actually seeing your teacher outside of campus but you were working and he was with friends. He was the one to stumble over his words when he gave you his drink order. Jimin smirked evilly when you turned to make the drinks at the way Taehyung was acting. You wore a black skirt and fitted black top with your hair and make up done.

"Well well well," Jimin whispered to the other two, "I guess I don't need to force you on blind dates. You can chat up the bartender."

"It was pretty awkward hearing you try and talk to her," Yoongi added in making Taehyung shake his head in disagreement. Still, he continued, "No, I—she’s my—she’s too young.”

"Taehyung, look at your gorgeous face, I doubt it matters, plus you’re a college professor! You’ve got a PhD, you’re well off, you’re artistic! It's no wonder everyone throws themselves at you, so go at it," Jimin said making Taehyung laugh, "Do you have a crush on me Chimmy?"

"Of course, I'm one of those college girls of yours who join your lectures just to for you to notice them," Jimin joked shaking his head, "And yet Jihyun is the one who cheated and not you."

"Way to bring that up," Yoongi hit him letting them conversation drop as you came back with the drinks taking their money, Taehyung looked after you. Did you work every weekend? He didn't expect you to be the type to work here. He doesn't usually pay attention to his students aside from during his teachings but you were obviously a different story along with all of his advanced students. He was your mentor and you spent a lot of time in the art studio. You mostly kept to yourself and did your work. He usually saw you stressed out but the other day was the first time in two years that you just walked out of his class. It was hard juggling the art piece from the Spring Art Exhibit and the final for their realism class but that's life and you leaving was so out of character to him.

It was still weird to see you give up that day. He obviously didn't know how you acted outside of the art department but he really was surprised especially considering the way you were dressed. He also didn't know you were the type to be friends with muscular men covered in tattoos and piercings.

"Holy shit that really is your professor," Jungkook whispered to you as he wiped the inside of some shot glasses. You and him stood at the other end of the bar gossiping. Jungkook smirked, "This is a sign, you should sleep with him."

"Do you ever think about something other than sex?" "Not really."

“Alright well focus on your own sex life and not mine. I just dumped Namjoon like three weeks ago," you complained, "Plus I'm pretty sure there's a rule against student and staff relations."

"Alright but you're 21 and he's like 30 so legally..." Jungkook trailed off giving you enough time to cut in. You sighed, "Just stop."

After some time you did circle back to the group of men and took more drink orders. While you were there one of them excused themselves to the restroom and the other got a call. In the end, Taehyung was the only one left. You found yourself stalling as you wiped your side of the lowered counter in front of him.

"I'm off," Jungkook came by patting your shoulder, "Want me to wait for you?" You shook your head at him, "No, I have to close remember?"

"Alright well call me if you change your mind," then he reached out and flicked your forehead, "See ya, Ugly."

You rolled your eyes swatting his hand away as your cheeks reddened in embarrassment. He's such an asshole. Taehyung didn't say anything for a second and then said, "So this is where you go after the studio?"

"On the weekends yeah," you said biting your lip nervously, "Also sorry if I seemed disrespectful but you're out with your friends and I didn't want to interrupt."

"Don't worry about it, I'm not offended I was just surprised. You're the first student I've seen outside of school-related events," he confessed with a small smile. From what he saw of you with that guy you definitely seemed outgoing. You seemed playful and maybe a little sarcastic but when he sees you in the studio you’re serious. When you talk to him it seems like you're always on edge and he still wanted to know what made you walk out the other day. Sensing another wave of awkwardness coming between you two you took a glass in your hand, "How about a drink? On the house."

"That's alright, I can pay—" "Sir, it's just one drink it'll be fine," you waved him off already mixing it before handing it to him, "You seem stressed."

Your fingertips touched his on accident as he took the drink. Your eyes locked once more before you were backing away to help some people on the other end. Taehyung has never looked at any of his students sexually but obviously he'd never been blind to the attractive ones. He'd been married for five years and he was loyal unlike his ex wife. Plus, he knew the position he was in and what it'd do to his career if he ever got involved with a student so the thought never came to mind. Right now though, he's having a hard time seeing you as a student and not just someone from the bar. Thankfully, his friends returned to him just as you caught him staring again.

Bora would be losing her shit over your small interaction with your professor. He was so unbelievably attractive and to see him in a setting like this made you want to do very bad things with him. Maybe their jokes about using your Professor for rebound sex was getting to your head. Obviously your friends never meant anything serious by that but wow did that seem do-able right now, especially considering the fact that he keeps staring at you.

"Come on Taehyung, let's go clubbing, I haven't gone in a while," Jimin begged him turning to Yoongi, "You too, let's go."

"Nah man, I'm not cut out for that anymore. I’m older than the two of you," Yoongi reminded making Jimin roll his eyes. He pulled on Taehyung's arm, "Let's go get you laid."

"Shut up, I'm not going, why don't you go? You don't need us," Taehyung told him. Jimin huffed gathering his things, "Fine. I will."

They waved him off watching him leave until it was just the other two. Yoongi sighed, "I should probably head home before Jieun comes to get me herself. It was nice drinking with you though, call me if you need anything."

Taehyung knows that he should just head out too. His two friends just left and he's got no reason to still be at the bar but he waited for you to come back and clean up their glasses.

"Your friends left already?" You asked him wiping at the counter.

"Uh yeah, I think I need to sober up before I head out though," he cleared his throat nervously, "Can I get a water?"

"Of course," you left for a second to fill it before coming back. You set the glass down in front of him stalling a little before asking, "I don't know if this is inappropriate or anything but are you alright sir? I, uh, I actually just realized you're not wearing your ring anymore."

His breath hitched for a second. He'll be a year since his divorce in two months and you've just now noticed? Well he doesn't expect his students to notice a small detail but still felt weird to hear it. He nodded in acknowledgment to your question, "It's alright, but yes, I'm not wearing my ring anymore. I had a divorce last summer."

"Wow," you said absentmindedly, "Well I hope you're doing well. I know this isn't all that similar but I actually just recently ended a relationship too."

"Oh?" Taehyung questioned with peaked interest. The nagging part in his brain was telling him to go before he got too curious about his student's personal life, "Is everything alright with you then?"

"Yeah it's fine," you shrugged leaving for a second to help someone else. Taehyung still waited even if he knew it was his chance to return to his empty home. When you came back he rushed to question you, "So, what made the two of you end it? Was he someone you were with since high school?"

"God no, we'd only been dating a few months but he still cheated," you blurted out, the topic still annoying you, "I mean, you know, some people just aren't worth it."

"He cheated on you?" Taehyung asked looking you up and down without much thought. He might be crossing the line with the next thing he says. You nodded no longer caring about keeping this to yourself, "With one of my closest friends actually. Safe to say I don't talk to either of them anymore."

"You're beautiful."

You froze. His words were mumbled behind his hand as he looked away from you, "I mean... you seem like a great person and I don't see why anyone would ever choose someone else over you." You didn't say anything for a moment before nodding your head, "Well I could say the same for you Mr. Kim."

Ah, so even if you just found out he was divorced clearly you’ve heard the rumors. It was embarrassing that his students and others knew what happened. The conversation changed after that. He asked about your progress and you went into detail about your work. He nodded listening, "Well maybe I could offer some guidance after class."

"I'd really appreciate that, and once again I'm sorry for walking out of class the other day," you bit your lip nervously and it had Taehyung doing the same. Stop, Y/n's your student and is at least nine years younger than you, he told himself.

His breath hitched as he tried to push his thoughts away before something bad happened. The two of you talked for another hour or two, before you knew it the bar was supposed to close soon as it was past midnight. Taehyung noticed the a sense of all other customers with a sense of dread, he'd have to leave now. He actually enjoyed talking to you, he's never connected with his students but you were easy to talk to. Obviously that was already inappropriate and he should just forget all of this but it was hard. He liked having someone to listen even if it weren't his close friends. He sighed as he stood, "So, you're closing soon?"

He was setting some cash down on the counter, a good tip that you tried to refuse. You nodded, "Yeah, I've gotta do some cleaning up unfortunately."

"How do you get home? You ride the bus?" He asked playing with his keys. You pushed some hair behind your ears, "No actually I'll probably have to call a cab since it's so late."

"Nonsense, if you're up for it I can give you a lift," Taehyung offered up before he could even process what he was saying, "I mean, I don't know how comfortable I'd feel letting you get in a stranger's car this late at night when I can wait for you. Unless you think that's inappropriate." It was.

You nodded, "I mean, if you don't mind waiting..." "I don't," Taehyung rushed to say, "I'll bring my car around to the front and wait for you alright? It gives me a chance to sober up some more anyway. You've got my number right?"

You did since he was your mentor. A lot of you students who were in advanced classes had his number since you all had a group chat. Taehyung would be lying if he said he hasn't had female students in the past be a little too suggestive in his messages but he always shut it down right away. The only reason he wanted to take you home tonight is because he actually enjoyed talking with you. He hadn't spoken with a woman this much in a long time unless it was school or work related. He's shot down every one of Jimin's offers to set him up with someone and when they'd go out drinking Taehyung was never interested in hooking up with strangers.

When you got in his car he passed you his jacket to drape over your legs and you thanked him, "Thank you so much, cabs are so expensive."

"Yeah, I bet they are, just tell me when to turn, alright?" Taehyung said as he pulled onto the street heading down the direction you pointed to. Your phone sat on your lap ringing and you didn't hang up or answered. If you hung up he'd just keep calling and calling.

He looked down at your phone before shifting his eyes back on the road, hand adjusting his grip on the steering wheel, "Do you need to answer that?"

"Huh? No it's just my ex," you told him honestly staring out the window, "He's still bothering me all the time."

"Mm," he hummed in acknowledgement as you pointed at what street to turn down, "He's still trying even after sleeping with your former friend?"

"Yeah, he thinks apologizing over and over again is gonna change my mind," you said with a shrug, "But that's done with thankfully. Don't you feel that way? Happy it's over?"

He waited a moment trying to think it over. Is this conversation with you wrong? Well in reality, getting you in his car this late at night is wrong. Thinking about how your perfume filled his car with a soft floral scent. Plus you were pretty, he'd thought that the other day too when he caught you in the studio so late. Your hair had been pinned back and your smock was covered in paint along with your hands. He had found himself stalling his mission that night before rushing home once he realized it.

"Um, I am happy it's over but it was also a ten year relationship that she threw away for one night," Taehyung said to you, "I'm happy it's over but it still upsets me. Sorry, maybe we shouldn't be talking about this?"

"Of course I'm so sorry Mr. Kim," you said turning away from him, "Um it's just up the street. The building with a gate."

He nodded driving forward. He was about to know where one of his student's lives. But why didn't he want to drop you off now? When he pulled up to the side of the building still a little hidden under the night sky he turned to you. Should he walk you up to make sure you get u wide safely or would that be taking it too far?

Maybe you were crazy or maybe your friends really got to your head because you did not want to leave. Obviously before you thought he was just your hot, married professor but now? After spending over an hour just talking to him and then him dropping you off home was messing with your head. Plus, you went through very similar experiences and he had to be at least a little into you to go out of his way to wait for you to take you home. Obviously it was wrong since he was your professor but in reality the age part didn't matter. Sure, you've always said you like guys your age but just look at Kim Taehyung.

So yeah, you were taking your sweet time unbuckling yourself and giving him his jacket back. He didn't say anything watching you sit up trying to get your things and for some reason he really did not want you to go. What he hadn't expected was the look in your eyes when you caught him staring again. This was wrong. He had to stop looking at you like that. He was nine years older than you and your college professor.

But then, you surprised him when you reached over the middle console. He didn't even have to think about what was going on when his hand was on your jaw pulling you closer until your lips met. He released a soft groan into your mouth letting his tongue lick along your lower lip until you gave him room to explore your mouth.

You were so eager, a hand on his thigh to keep yourself up as he tongue kissed you.  He should not be doing this, he knows he shouldn't but it's been so long since he's had anyone's hands on him but his own. He did not sleep around and he was acting out of character with you but in this moment he just needed to have you. The nagging feeling was still in the back of his head though.

You trailed wet kisses down his jaw, kissing along his neck arching your back into him. He couldn't stop the slide of his hand over the back of your skirt, groping a little at your butt as he reached over to touch you too. Even then he just had to speak, "This is wro—ng, you're my student."

You're not completely sure what came over you in the car but at the moment you did not care. Your hand slid closer to his inner thighs making his muscles tense. You were getting a little too close to his groin now as you kissed him shutting him up. He kissed back hungrily despite his words and then your hand was running over his middle. You sighed into his lips, "Nobody has to know, just tonight."

Taehyung didn't put up much of a fight after that. He let you unzip his jeans and button. His hand was at your throat pulling you into him while his other hand trailed down your back. Your short skirt was a little too tempting to reach out and touch. He licked his lips when you kissed down the middle of his collarbone where the top buttons of his shirt were undone. With the first grade of your hand palming at his growing erection he groped at your butt in the skirt. He nodded with a lick of his lips, "Just tonight."

He couldn't stop the deep moan that he released when your hand dipped into his briefs. He was sporting a semi but with the first touch of your hand on his hardening cock. You still hadn't even looked down to notice he was thick and long. He felt heavy in your hand as you palmed over him, too dry to feel good so you brought your hand up. You held it to his chin and with his eyes locked on yours he spit into it watching you do the same before bringing it back down to his member. He jumped at the first feel of the slick grip you had on him now creating a wet slide around him. He was panting, it'd been way too long since the last time someone else touched him.

Also, it helped that it was past midnight and how far was well tinted so you couldn't see anything from the outside. The car wasn't even on anymore. His hips met your hand's efforts to jerk him off, moaning into your mouth as he grabbed a handful of ass. After some time you pulled away from him making sure to pull on his lips as you backed off watching him try and chase after you. He watched through lust filled eyes as you shunned further toward your door backing your butt up so you could lean over the middle console until you were face to face with his slick cock. He bit his lip in anticipation, no longer thinking about how wrong this was the second your tongue licked up a fat stripe up the length of his member.

"Is this alright, sir?" You asked holding his cock in a loose fist while you left soft kisses on his mushroom tip. Your tongue poked at the vein on his underside, rounded innocent eyes staring at him that he knew were anything but innocent. He'd never been with anyone this young, he'd never even thought about this before he'd been married for five years and dating for another four or five. She'd been the last women he was ever with and his relationships prior to her hadn't meant anything. Yet, here he was enjoying the warm tight feel of your mouth on him that had him forgetting everything wrong with this.

He licked his lips, "Y-Yes, but call me Taehyung." He liked hearing you call him sir too damn much but considering all his students call him that he couldn't think about it right now.

"Alright Taehyung," you leaned up to peck his lips in a quick kiss that had him craving more. Then you flashed him a mischievous smile before coming back down to his member, "I'm gonna suck your dick now."

Taehyung shudders out another velvety groan as your lips finally wrapped around his whole tip. Hips rise off the leather seat to meet your mouth hoping to get himself deeper.  Wet warmth around his length and he's gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles whiten. You're far from gentle. The flick of your tongue over a thick vein before lapping at the slit on his head with every bob. The gentle suck of the tip. You've never found so much pleasure from sucking a man's cock before, but then came your hot Professor. Nine years older than you, too young to be divorced, and the man he taught you about art all week. None of that matters though when it comes to the deep growls and husky moans he releases as a hand plays with the end of your panties. A thing paid of things he had to pull out your underwear, fingers running over your covered slit.

Taehyung had decided the moment you reached into his jeans that he wanted to fuck his student. He wanted to let out all his pent up sexual frustration on his pretty little student who was just so eager to take his cock in their mouth. Who would've known he would've broken his head long dry spell for some college pussy. He brought his hand back from your underwear sticking his fingers into his mouth to lather them in spit.

He groaned when he hit the back of your throat relishing in the tightness of your mouth as he slid his hand to your head again, pulling the poor excuse for underwear to let his finger run down your slit toward your clit. You were so fucking wet, stupid wet actually and it only turned him on more.

His finger brushed roughly against your skin, a moan escaping your throat that sent vibrations around his dick. Taehyung toyed with your clit feeling more slick being produced by his touch. It was so fucking hot. The sec with his wife had gotten boring and repetitive over the years but this felt new and exciting. You were attractive to him from your looks to your art work and it was all hitting him at once.

"That's it sweetheart, take it all in your mouth," Taehyung panted stopping his motions, but pressing down against your clit. Your head began to bob harshly now, sucking him into your mouth while your hand stroked whatever didn't felt. He was feeling close but with how tight you felt, he needed to stretch you.

Taehyung hummed, rubbing circles around your cunt, his thumb gently massaging your clit. "Am I making you this wet baby? Should I punish you for it?"

You moaned and whined as Taehyung's fingers slammed into you, while rubbing your clit. You caught him by surprise when you bounced your hips forcing his finger in and out of your cunt at a speed you wanted and it made him groan deep in his chest.

He didn't stop fucking your throat as you fucked yourself on his finger giving him time to push another in too. He wished he could see this from an outside point of you. This thirty year old man getting his dick milked dry by a hot twenty one year old art student of his while he stuck his fingers into their tight pussy. He was so close, honestly surprised he'd been holding off this long. When his fingers began to feel your walls relax around him he knew you were ready for him now.

"Think you can ride my cock sweetheart?" He asked brushing your hair out of your face as you slobbered all over his member. You didn't need to be asked twice as you popped off him feelings his fingers toy with your folds but no longer fingering you. He pushed his seat back to give you more room before reclining his seat back. He guided you over his lap watching as you didn't waste a second in lining himself up with your wet pussy.

"I'm on the pill sir," you said calling him that name again that had his cock twitching. He nodded pulling you in for another kiss as his hands found your waist sinking you down his length. You moaned into each other's mouths. You slowly raised your hips and sunk back down on him, and he tightened his grip on your throat just slightly pulling you away from the kiss. Your face pressed against each others in breathy moans of want as he began to bounce you on his cock while bucking his hips.

It had been awhile for the both of you, though he knows you probably hadn't waited as long as him. He'd been dry since his divorce while you just broke up with tour boyfriend weeks ago. He had a feeling you were always eager like this for sex, and you clearly knew what you were doing with your mouth too and it was just so hot. He was kneading your ass as your head rested on the crook of his neck. He was so close but he was trying to hold off for you. He resort to talking, "This is wrong, y'know?"

Even then he said it with a buck of his hips loving the way your plump wet walls felt around him, "Only bad girls jump on their teacher's cocks."

"Mm," you whined teasingly as you sucked love bites into his collarbone, "You gonna punish me sir?"

"Oh fuck," he moaned when your walls clenched around him intentionally, "Call me Taehyung, love."

"Taehyung," you moaned into his mouth moving onto a quick grind of your heads into each other, "I'm gonna cu—"

"Do it, do it now, fuck Y/n," he held you tighter getting a little rougher now as he reached up for the handlebar on the roof of the car and used it for leverage as he forced his hips off the seat to push more into you. With the new force you weren't lasting long, your release hit you like a tsunami making you shake around him as he held your chest against his. He didn't stop thrusting though, trying to get himself as close to orgasm before he had to pull out of your tight walls as they twitched around him.

You let him raise you off his cock as you sat back down in your seat adjusting your underwear that had been pulled to the side this entire time. You reached across him with a hand jerking him off using your own release as lube and he was fucking into your hand forcing your mouth back on his. With a low grunt and a shake of his hands, he was cumming. Thick drops of creamy cum fell around your hand like a flood. You didn't think much about it as you pulled away from his lips to cover his cock in your mouth licking him clean as best as you could.

After some time you moved off him awkwardly pulling your hair out of your face as you cleared your throat. He tucked himself back in nervously as he adjusted his seat back up looking at his disheveled reflection. He couldn't even look at you, not because he didn't want to stare at your beauty but because it really was wrong. He was your college professor for fuck's same. It didn't matter his strong attraction toward you. What mattered is that he was in a place of authority and could easily lose his job and probably ruin your reputation. He couldn't do that to you but he really wanted you.

"I should probably head inside now," you said shyly as you grabbed your bag opening the door. Taehyung didn't say anything nodding his head watching you leave. He hated the fact that he looked at the length of your legs as you left. It wasn't right.

By Monday morning Taehyung wasn't sure what to think anymore. After the crazy night with you on Saturday it was all he could think about on Sunday. He met up with his friends for brunch and he couldn't help but rant. It didn't do him any favors that they knew something was wrong with him since the beginning. He ended up being honest and telling them that the bartender was his student and that they hooked up in his car.

At first they had been extremely confused by it all but Taehyung already felt guilty on his own as it was, he didn't need them making him feel worse. He expected them to slap him or tell him that he should never do it again. But they didn't say that. Instead they filled his head with possibilities that should never even be thought off.

"In reality you two are adults and didn't you say she's a third year? She'll graduate in a year so really there's nothing wrong with it," Jimin tried reasoning, "She wanted to do it right? Look, I'm just happy you got your dick wet. We both know it's been way too long, plus nobody is saying you have to keep seeing your student. It was just a one night hiccup."

He had to tell himself over and over again that it was just one night. He was thankful that when you walked into class you were in the middle of a discussion when another girl from the class. The two of you were talking so much you merely walked past his desk without a stolen glance. Good, it seemed like you had no intention on more. Great. Amazing. It was the right thing.

Today a male model would be brought in for you all to paint. He had a sheet draped over his intimates and once the assignment was started you put all your focus on it. You were supposed to use him to sketch a person and then use your own art style to tell a story. You tried not looking to your professor in case he felt awkward about Saturday. You kind of did.

Mostly because you could still feel his lips on yours and it made you nervous. You spent all of Sunday in your room trying not to freak out but you just felt so stupid. It felt unbelievably good for him but you knew it wasn't right.

"I swear to god these stupid fingers are pissing me off," your friend Yuna whined as she had to erase more charcoal. Neither one of you noticed the professor making his rounds to check on all the sketches down so far.

"Think about which perspective you're using and the proportion of his hands where he has them placed," Mr. Kim told her pointing to areas that seemed off. You could feel your heart race when he made his move to you next. He was hesitant at first to speak to you, just standing behind your stool watching your sketch and he only stepped closer when he had advice.

"Pay a little more attention to the line of his body, focus on proportions too and use more shadowing,” he said pointing at spots in your painting. It felt like he was too close but neither one of you were actually bothered by it. In the mix of slight regret there was also this strong wanting for a recreation of that night. Neither one of you would actually go for it though. Right? Not again?

He looked down to make sure you were listening, your eyes lcking for a moment before you both looked away nervously at the realization of your proximity. He didn't notice the way his tongue ran over his lips before biting down on his bottom one in remembrance. You're wearing the perfume from the other night.

Clearing his throat, Taehyung looked away from you standing straight again, "But other than that it looks like you have more done than others, thank you for focusing better today."

"Of course sir," you said absentmindedly looking back to your sketch too. It took him a second to move away. He'd never felt so damn embarrassed at the fact that he had to focus so hard on not getting turned on and breaking a sweat. This is exactly why he asked you to call him Taehyung only but of course you would slip up since you were used to referring to him with the honorific. But right now he could only think about what you'd said to him that faithful night.

"You gonna punish me sir?"

Looking down at you nobody would ever guess you'd say something like that but he knew you did. He heard you say it and he really liked it—

"Sir do you mind taking a look at mine?" A student asked snapping him out of his thoughts. He had to look around to find where he was still a couple feet behind. He didn't bother responding as he started working that way not noticing the way your eyes followed after him making you smudge a mark across your paper. With a small annoyed huff you worked on cleaning it up again.

After class you were one of the last to leave the room. You've been thinking about him nonstop but because of the positions you're in, you shouldn't. But in reality, you were two adults who happened to have sex. There was a sense of sexual attraction and honestly, hooking up with someone other than your ex definitely did something to you. Considering the fact that he definitely seemed affected by your presence in class, you found yourself staying another late evening at the studio making sure Taehyung saw you the next time he passed by the room.

He did see you again a couple hours later. He was locking up his classroom ready to leave at the end of the day finding you through the door's window. His steps faltered, head turning as he looked at his surroundings. Then, he was pushing the door open letting himself into the studio. The other side of the room was all glass windows since it face the courtyard but it was dark out there. In the room all the lights were off too minus a lamp by your table and a light above the sink.

You turned instantly with the sound of the door finding him standing by it. He ran his fingers through his hair that had been casually combed back. His other hand was stuffed in the pocket of his corduroy slacks with his tote bag hanging off his shoulder. He licked his lips nervously, "I just came to let you know that the custodian will be around."

"Thank you for the reminder sir," you said with your back to him to hide a playful smile, "Or is it Taehyung? I forgot."

His breath hitched as he stared at you from across the room. You turned to look at him, the lamp above your head creating a shadow in your facial feature but appearing like a spotlight only for you. It made him feel further into the shadow at the corner he stood. He really wanted you, but it just didn't feel like he should. He was your mentor. He was nine years older. You were a college student and he was your teacher. It definitely wasn't right. But he was just so attracted to you in this moment.

"Well it depends on what we're doing," he answered absentmindedly realizing a second too late his response was flirty. He had no reason to be in the studio at this moment but he made up an excuse to go in anyway just because he wanted to see you again.

When you finished cleaning up you were walking toward him. He looked down at you through a hazy gaze as you reached for the door handle pulling it open. Taehyung simply followed behind calmly as you spoke, "Did you have a good weekend?"

His pace slowed for a second trying to unravel your question and the subtle approach you took. He's quickly realizing you're a bit promiscuous. Your nonchalant hints of something more that only he could understand but everyone else thought nothing of it. You were a tease but you hid it so well. He thought for a moment about how to word his response, "My weekend was great, and yours?"

"Oh it was really fun," you answered as the two of you walked down the path through the courtyard, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about it."

"Mhm," Taehyung hummed in acknowledgment looking around again to see if anyone was around, "I can imagine what that's like. Hopefully you have more like it."

Your eyes met in a side glance as the split in the sidewalk separating the parking lot from your bus stop. He played with his keys like he did the night at the lounge bar, "Going to wait for a bus?"

"That's the plan unfortunately, unless someone were to come around and take me home," you said with a shrug looking away from him the further you walked down your split sidewalks. Teahyungs voice the further he got from you, "I'm sure someone would love to drive you home."

So you said your farewells and you sat at the bus stop nervously. Maybe you were a little too obvious with you felt and he was probably worried. He most likely regretted getting involved with you.

Of course that was the opposite. He knew he shouldn't but really it was because of the university. Aside from that there was nothing wrong with being attracted to someone younger. You were both adults. That's why he was rushing to his car pulling out of the driveway and going around the corner to the bus stop. He waited a few yards back from the bus stop flashing his emergency lights at you and in an instant you were up and walking to the car. He rolled the window down flashing you a smile as you opened the door.

He did end up giving you a lift but it wasn't to your apartment, it was to his.

        "I don't know if I'm going crazy, but I've got this feeling that you're seeing someone," Jungkook told you with narrowed eyes. He was currently walking you to your class before going home. He always had shorter days than you and Bora since he worked in the afternoon but he always hung out with you two.

"I'm not seeing anyone," you told him simply as the two of you walked along the sidewalk. Jungkook just hummed in acknowledgment as he carried your canvas for you.

"Yeah, sure you aren't," Jungkook responded, "You don't have to tell me if it's supposed to be a secret. Is it supposed to be a secret? Oh my god are you dating someone in a relationship?"

"Why would I become a homewrecker when I've been cheated on?" You asked him clearly displeased with his assumption. He shrugged staring down the hall to the studio, "I'm just curious why you're keeping it on the low. Is he like, not someone you should be with?"

"I'm pretty sure I told you I'm not seeing anyone," you responded back to him entering your classroom. Taehyung was standing at his desk watching everyone walk in when he noticed the same tatted guy helping you with your canvas.

"Jungkook! Hey man, what are you doing here?" One of the other students called out to him. It was Seungjin, he was in your department and you knew each other better through Jungkook. Occasionally you'd talk but not always. He came over to where you and Jungkook were to talk as you got all your things settled.

Taehyung found you standing in the middle of two guys smiling over whatever they said watching the one with tattoos pull you into his side. Technically, class hasn't started but he can't stand the sight. Just a couple days ago you were wrapped in your professor's bedsheets sleeping soundly next to him. Now you're here with two guys your own age who were making you smile and laugh.

He shouldn't be surprised you had a lot of male friends. You were clearly well known around campus and people always approached you during class. Even at your job he found all the guys behind the counter trying to impress you with whatever. Even Jimin and Yoongi commented on your looks so really, this was normal. You had a boyfriend before of six months who cheated on you—which Taehyung would never understand why—but you also told him about other past relationships. Taehyung felt like he was different than your usual type and though he could say the same about you, right now he's getting annoyed.

He smiled down at the papers on his desk but it was anything but genuine. It was a forced smile to remind himself it was alright. It's not like you two could be forward with what's happening, not until you at least graduate next spring. As his class began to fill he finally had the nerve to approach you. If he could just get any guy your age away from you that'd be great. He was 30, he couldn't compete with all the college guys who surrounded you, had the same energy as you, got the same references. Taehyung's a millennial for Christ's sake, you're a Gen Z.

He made his round toward you well calculated. He greeted other students along the way to seem natural before he zoned in on where you were. He got close enough just in time to hear his student, Seungjin, speak, "Let's go drinking tonight, bring Hoseok with too. He hasn't been around in a while."

"Alright so us three and Hoseok? Should I tell Bora too?" Jungkook asked.

"Gentlemen, I'm sure you can continue this conversation outside of the art room," Taehyung's voice was bitter. He didn't want you going out with three guys tonight. He wants to order pizza for the two of you while you go into detail about your art piece for the Spring exhibition at your place. It was definitely a college student's place. He only went in the morning he dropped you off home after spending the night with him. You invited him in for a drink and he was too curious to say no.

Compared to his neat, bachelor pad, yours was chaotic. His place was clean, dark, and modern. Yours was ecliptic, slightly unorganized with paints and brushes everywhere. Thick woven throw blankets and patterned pillows. Hanging plants that were halfway between dying and thriving. You had vinyls piled in a corner with books. You had colored LED lamps, it was basically like a hippie fest at your place. He liked it though, compared to his place yours was warm and welcoming. He liked that he could see little pieces of you everywhere he turned.

When he first moved into his own place it felt cold. He never lived on his own like that. From his childhood when he lived with his family to college when he lived with roommates and finally when he lived with his ex wife.

Jungkook looked up at your professor who seemed slightly out of focus staring at your canvas. Jungkook's never gotten an up close look at him but Bora was right, he was an attractive guy and you seemed slightly awkward now that he was here. He looked between you two, his best friend senses tingling when he watched the way Taehyung bit into his lower lip when you brushed your fingers through your hair. Seungjin was too busy apologizing to the man telling him they'll get right to work.

"Sorry Professor Kim, I'll get going now," Jungkook said warily as he went and shoved your head to the side playfully, "Am I picking you up after?"

Before you could respond Taehyung was cutting in, "Actually I've asked miss Y/n to stay behind, we've got some discussing to do about her piece for the Spring Art Exhibit."

Obviously he hadn't but you didn't even dare to deny his claims looking to Jungkook, "I'll text you, go, you're interrupting class time."

"Once again, I apologize sir, I'll be leaving now," Taehyung had to resist the urge to roll his eyes as he nodded. Jungkook bowed respectfully before turning around to leave, glancing back at you two to catch your Professor glaring at Seungjin who was pulling his things closer to you.

Jackpot, Jungkook thought when his eyes caught sight of a small purple bruise peaking out from under the collar of the professor's shirt. He was clearly seeing someone too and Jungkook's curious to know who.

Taehyung returned to the front of the room after continuing his round around his students and started his lecture on surrealism. Seungjin sat next to you now that he'd been talking to you and Jungkook and you didn't mind. You'd hung out with him a few times outside of class and he was fun to be around. Still though, you couldn't focus on what he would say when you were so focused on Taehyung.

Had he been jealous because of them? Or was he annoyed that you were delaying class time? After class would he keep you around to tell you, 'Just because we're having sex doesn't mean you can do whatever you want in my class' or was that just an excuse so Jungkook wouldn't be able to pick you up?

"Sir if it's alright with you, I'd like to discuss my work for the exhibit too," another student pointed out at the end of class. Taehyung huffed in annoyance as he looked up to find you waiting as well. You looked away, "I could always come after my last class? That way you two could discuss privately?"

He tried hiding his smile. Obviously he wanted you alone, not with another student there so he nodded in agreement watching you leave. He had to work on keeping things lowkey. You're way better at it than he is. To be fair he's been out of the game for ten years and he never had to keep a relationship a secret before.

"Perfect! I was just coming to find you, are you coming with Jungkook and I to find costumes for the party this weekend?" Bora asked once you'd left the classroom.

"What party?" You asked confused. She gasped dramatically, "The costume party! Halloween in Spring, as Hobi calls it. Jungkook's waiting by the gate."

"I've still got one more class and then I've gotta meet Professor Kim and talk about the Spring Exhibit," you told her.

Bora laughed, "Yeah you should have your discussion while riding his face."

"What?" You sounded on edge and it only made Bora laugh harder.

"I'm kidding obviously, but I'd gladly sit on his face," Bora said with a shrug, "Alrighty then, text me later and I can go shopping with you tomorrow if you don't have time today. Jungkook and I are just going to get an idea before we meet up with the others tonight for drinks."

"K, bye love you," you waved her goodbye as you went to your last class for the day. You couldn't focus on it though, not when you kept thinking about Taehyung. That's why the second it was over you were rushing over to his room.

Luckily there was no one around when you let yourself in and he barely gave you a glance before pointing to a box of painting palettes, "Mind helping carry those to the storage room?"

You nodded taking the box as he took another one before walking you to the back of the room. He opened the door to storage room and let you in first looking around through the windows to make sure nobody was watching. Then, he entered closing the two of you in as you set the boxes down. The second he turned to you, you were jumping in his arms. Taehyung's hands went to your waist holding you up as your lips met in a hungry kiss that had him groaning in want.

After some time kissing like that he set you back down but his arms didn't leave your waist keeping you close. He looked down at you, "What are you doing this weekend? Let's go out of town."

You made a pout that had his eyes rounding in curiosity and anticipation searching yours for answers. You looked down hugging around his middle section, "My friend's throwing this costume party on Saturday and everyone I know is going. If I don't go they're going to get suspicion."

"Well just tell them you'll be seeing someone but you're keeping it private," he said hopefully squeezing you in his hold a little more. You just fit so perfectly in his arms despite the taboo of it all.

"I've tried but they won't quit. Trust me, once Jungkook and Bora get suspicious that's a wrap. Jungkook is like a ducking detective when it comes to other people's business," you explained watching the way his jaw clenched as he looked away from you sadly. You rested your head on him, "What about next weekend? Are you free then?"

"I'm free, I can make reservations now," Taehyung said biting his lip, "Alright I'll go out first, make sure the coast is clear."

You nodded watching him turn to the door before stopping to look back at you, "Since I can't spend the weekend with you, maybe you can give me tonight? We can order in, watch a movie..." He seemed strangely nervous as he spoke.

Jungkook and Seungjin did make dinner plans tonight but you didn't care much about that. You'd rather get laid and spend the night with a guy who interests you. You don't want to jump into things so quickly because you could easily get hurt. It didn't change the fact that you felt safe and comfortable with him. Even when you just saw him as a mentor, yeah he could be strict but he was also very good at consolation. He'd constantly tell you how talented you were and that you shouldn't forget that even when you're feeling down.

Then obviously you're getting closer to him so it's not bad to want to spend time together. Were you dating? Not that you know of? Would you consider him to be the only man you're sleeping with? Yes. Could say that same about him to you? Probably? He didn't seem like the type to mess around with just anyone and you've been talking on the phone on nights you can't see each other.

"Then, should I wait for you down the street?" You asked once he signed that the coast was clear. You both left the room stalling as you got to the door.

"Of course, make sure you do your school work too."

"Yes sir, I'll work on it tonight," you said as the two of you stood outside now. He bit his lip to hide a smile, "Well have a good night."

"You two, thank you," you said your goodbyes as you walked in opposite directions. Then, like a constant cycle, he was picking you up in his car.

On Friday night you spent the night at Taehyung's place. It's crazy how quick the two of you have progressed but it didn't feel forced. It's like, when it was just you two you could forget about the fact he was your professor. Even when he'd quite literally tutor you for some of your required course it didn't feel like he was your teacher.

The main reason you spent the night is because you wouldn't be able to see him this weekend other than Saturday morning. Tonight you'll have Hobi's party and you had to work Sunday and Monday night. You had already dedicated next week as crunch time for your paintings so you really weren't going to be seeing him outside of class and the art studio.

So, he drove you about fifty minutes out of the city to some expensive rooftop restaurant for lunch. You wanted to spend as much of today as you could with him before Bora would be getting to your house to get ready for tonight. The restaurant was far enough and way too expensive for any of your class mates to be here so it was the perfect place for a nice lunch date. Taehyung clearly had money from his career and his parents so it wasn't a question that he'd want to treat you to something nice. He wore a YSL cream colored button up shirt and black slacks while you wore a little black dress.

The two of you walked in with linked arms letting the hostess lead you to a table while you talked. You look extra pretty today. You wore light make up that accentuated your features and your hair was styled in a way that really suited you. He couldn't keep his eyes off you, if he could he would've noticed the waking nightmare about to cross paths with him.

"Tae?" His blood ran cold as the two of you looked up, the hostess waiting at your table for the two of you. You stared at the woman and man in front of you. She looked you up and down and you did the same shamelessly. She had black hair up to her shoulders and bright red lipstick. She wore a white blouse and grey pencil skirt. An ugly pencil skirt in your opinion.

"Jihyun..." Taehyung cleared his throat and it didn't take you long to realize who this woman was. The man was quiet but he looked uncomfortable yet you felt his eyes travel down to your exposed legs. You knew this must be his ex wife and you expected Taehyung to take his arm away from your hold. It must be awkward for him to be seen with you. You were obviously sticking out from the more mature group in appearance.

"Oh, uh, it's nice to see you doing well," Jihyun said with a forced smile. You wondered if the man was the coworker she cheated on Taehyung with. His arm almost pulled you even closer to his side, "Yes, I am doing well. Oh, this is Y/n."

You gave them a tight smile leaning into Taehyung more. He smiled at that, "It looks like our table is ready so we'll get going now."

"Was that your ex?" You asked once the two of you were to the table. Taehyung nodded before flashing you a smile, "But let's not think about that. This is our first official date so let's make the most of it before we have to get going."

Without thinking you leaned across the table and placed a soft kiss on his cheek before going back to looking at the menu. Before the food arrived you excused yourself to the restroom. It was windy and you could not have your hair all over the place. While you were in there you reapplied a light layer of lipgloss as a stall opened.

You couldn't believe your luck when the cheating hag—you mean Jihyun—came out. It made you smile a little as you wiped up the corners of your lips. She gave you a look as she went to wash her stupid musty hands right next to you.

"Taehyung seems to be doing well lately," Jiyeon said washing her hands. It was the second time she'd said it like she expected him to be crying in his room, "I've known him for a very long time an—"

"I don't really care how long you've known him," you flashed her a perfectly fake smile, "And of course he's doing well. Why wouldn't he?"

Jihyun pursed her lips in annoyance, "I'm surprised when he didn't introduce you as someone he's seeing. He only said your name, it's very strange."

If Taehyung wasn't going to do anything that's alright but she's clearly judging your appearance and possibly your age and relationship with him too.

"I really like your skirt," you added with another fake smile, "Only some women can pull off that kind of look. Unfortunately it's not for me, it's too bland?"

She scoffed as she ran her hands under the sink water, "It's office attire, but you look a little too young to know anything about that."

"Oh to be young and beautiful, do you miss those days?" You said finally closing your little handbag. In fact she was only 30 but if she was going to act like this then you would too. You ran your fingers through your hair one last time and check the back of your dress in the mirror, "I'll go first since Tae is waiting for me."

You began to walk away, Jihyun stayed at the mirror for a second trying to process what is happening. You must've been more important than she thought because it looked like you clearly knew who she was. You were bitchy but that wasn't the main problem. The main problem was that you were... everything Jihyun wished she could be when she was younger. She doesn't know your age but Taehyung was surprised he could even attract someone like you. The Taehyung she knew would never be into someone like you.

He had always had a sort of timid, mysterious nature on the outside and Jihyun had been the same. That's why it was so easy for them two to get close so long ago. Jihyu had always felt insecure when it came to the confident appearance as girls like you but Taehyung always assured her he never cared for looks like that. Clearly that been nothing but a lie if he is with you.

She barely made it out the restroom's entrance when she stopped in her tracks.

She had a clear view of your table, right by the glass ledge of the rooftop. Taehyung's smile was bright as he laughed over something you said and when she looked closer his hand was in yours.

He had never been the type to be openly affectionate. It had been years since he last looked at her that way. Maybe it was her mind playing tricks on her but Taehyung had never looked at her with that gleam in his eyes like he was giving you.

"Can I come over tonight?" You asked tracing swils with your finger on his hand, "After the party I mean or will that be too late?"

You're not sure if Taehyung seeing his ex actually affected him or if he was genuinely okay but whatever it was you wanted to make sure he was okay. He already told you he'd be playing tennis later with his friends but later tonight maybe he'd want to see you.

"Hm, it will be late but I can pick you up from the party if you don't care. I don't want you driving a cab so late especially if you'll be drinking," he said as he used his free hand to eat while the other held yours.

"Aw, sir aren't you just so sweet? Maybe we can reenact our first night together in my bunny costume tonight," you said it to tease him but you were also being serious. He was so attractive you swear you could just eat him up.

Taehyung nearly choked on his water but he couldn't help but smile, "it's barely noon and you're already thinking of that?"

He felt the tip of your foot against his leg, pulling on his pant leg teasingly. You gave him an innocent smile, "No, I just think about you and then I think about how much I want you."

He placed a kiss to your knuckles, "Always so eager."

"For you."

::.

this flopped so bad last time so pls YALL 😭

personal taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile

[iri-desky]

iri my dear, you seem to know something about this. what is happening with dream/the dsmp. did they restart or smt? did dream say something stupid again?

im gathering its a mix of both of those but i have no clue if they correlate or idek:

HELLOOO Soda my friend!! Longtime no see!!

Okay so. Tw slurs and grooming mention

So, at one point, on Tommy and Jack's podcast, Shut Up I'm Talking, Tommy offhandedly, jokingly mentioned he didn't like Mizkif. This got Tommy in a little argument with XQC on twt-- it really wasn't anything that bad, they were just firing insults at each other, and it was mostly pretty silly (mainly on Tommy's side. XQC was just being salty but Tommy was handling it like "haha cringe" trying not to provoke too much). And TOTALLY UNPROMPTED. WITHOUT WARNING. MIND YOU THE SITUATION HAD LITERALLY NOTHING TO DO WITH HIM. DREAM BARGES INTO THE THREAD AND PROCEEDS TO MAKE A MEME THAT SINGLEHANDEDLY CALLS TOMMY'S ENTIRE FANBASE THE R SLUR.

Literally. Now for obvious reasons people were outraged, and three hours later Dream comes back and claims that he doesn't understand the backlash by revealing in the weirdest way possible he actually doesn't just have adhd, and is also autistic (i add this comment every time I explain this; "uh, go off ig") and therefore can allegedly "reclaim it" (even though that's not how you reclaim slurs, and even then that specific word is so bad that even ND people want to kill it with fire).

Now obviously this set off a chain reaction of events and replies and people going nuts, including an asinine explanation post he made on reddit (now deleted, pictured below).

This went on up until recently, whereupon Tubbo decided to get involved and set up a stream with Dream to talk about it. Dream discussed a variety of things during the stream (here's a post that just outlines all the crap he said in a lighthearted way for your own sanity) but basically, dream victimized himself the whole stream (two or three hours) and basically kept on screwing himself by mentioning more and more insane crap that happened once upon I time?? To defend himself??? One of them actually involved confessing that he allowed p●rn to be shown in a vc involving minors back during smp era. What was he thinking. The most awful part is that he barely even mentioned the event that started this whole thing at all and just redirected all the attention to other things, which, unsurprisingly, just made him look WORSE.

Naturally, Twitter is going ballistic, which includes plenty of the old dsmp members and bloggers weighing in ("happy dsmp reunion everyone").

Friendly reminder that all of this could've been avoided if Dream didn't spontaneously stick his nose into an argument that didn't involve him in any way whatsoever.

TL;DR: yes, Dream said something very, very stupid again and Twitter is going insane. As time goes on and Dream tries to defend himself, he's SOMEHOW making all the moves that just make himself look much, much, MUCH worse.

Hope this helps 👍🏽👍🏽 !!

(I'll be marking this with all the usual tags, so if this helped anyone else understand the situation, feel free to like, reply, or reblog! I'm just happy to help)

[nobodysdaydreams]

I already know the Wizard is probably gonna be so scared of Dorothy for so many reasons.

First of all, she’s from our world and from the same region of the US, so she knows exactly where he’s from and the technology he’s using to fake his magic. In fact, if time in Oz and Kansas/Nebraska are moving at the same rate, Dorothy should be from a time period ahead of when the Wizard came to Oz and should be able to easily explain most of his “magic”.

Second of all, the Grimmerie’s prophecy is that it will be read by someone from the sky in Oz’s darkest hour. Obviously, that’s Elphaba counteracting the Wizard, but the Wizard has everyone convinced it was him fixing things after the drought. But now, Oz is under “threat” of the witch and a young girl from his world shows up, kills the sister of the Wizard’s enemy, and has a dog with her, possibly a talking one. Everyone thinks Dorothy is super powerful, she fits exactly what the Grimmerie predicted, and she has everything she needs to expose the Wizard. He’d be terrified.

This is how I picture it going down:

Some guard: “The girl is quite powerful, sir. She came from the sky and immediately killed the Wicked Witch of the East. She claims it was easy, unintentional even!”

The Wizard (to himself): “Nothing to worry about. That was technically Morrible’s doing, the fact that she came from the sky is coincidental. I’m certain she has no real power.”

The guard: “She also acquired the dead witch’s shoes and when the Wicked Witch of the West showed up to take them, it was discovered the witch had no power over the girl.”

The Wizard (trying not to freak out): “You mean…Elphaba was powerless to stop this new witch-killing visitor from the sky? One that killed her sister and stole her property? You don’t say. And um… did the girl happen to say where she was from?”

The guard: “Yes. Kansas. She claims it’s a place without magic or talking animals.”

The Wizard (slowly becoming paranoid and trying to play it off): “Oh really? Haha… how silly. Never heard of a place called Kansas or anywhere without magic seeing as I’m clearly a powerful Wizard. And um… where is this girl now?”

The guard: “Why, she’s on the way to the Emerald City right now along with two animals, a least one of which can talk, and two men cursed by the Witch of the West. Apparently, they want to see you, specifically.”

The Wizard (sweating): “They want to see ME? I mean um…who wouldn’t? Haha… but whatever for?”

The guard: “Well, they’re demanding you fix the condition of the two men the witch cursed, give the girl passage home, and help the talking lion overcome his trauma. Seeing as they are celebrated throughout Oz for killing one wicked witch for us, surely it is appropriate and well within your power to grant their requests immediately.”

The Wizard (slipping into madness and frantically trying to hide it): “Indeed it is I am a generous man yes, and I can totally do that for sure, yes of course, I have the power, but first, let’s take them all prisoner upon arrival just in case can never be too careful these days.”

The guard: “Sir… are you saying you want us to…”

The Wizard (shouting and trembling in fear): “Throw that little girl in prison, put those Animals in cages, and keep the two the witch cursed out of my sight! Tell them I’m busy! Tell them I have the flu! Tell them I’m out of town! Any excuse, I don’t care what it is, and whatever you do, DO NOT let that girl escape!”

By this point, the Wizard is paranoid out of his mind, assuming they are on the way to kill and/or expose him and given the company Dorothy keeps, it’s unlikely the Wizard will be very successful in getting her on his side. His goal would likely be to cage the Animals, find a way to deal with Boq and Fiyero (if he even recognizes them), and capture Dorothy as a potential enemy.

Maybe Elphaba writing “Surrender Dorothy” in the sky with her broom in this version of the story isn’t asking Dorothy herself to surrender, but demanding the Wizard to give Dorothy up because he takes her prisoner out of fear that she will expose him and the Wizard lets her go on the condition that she proves her loyalty by killing the Witch. The Wizard probably figures it’s a win/win for him: either Elphaba or Dorothy will die, and one of his enemies will destroy the other. What he wouldn’t expect is them working together, because as far as he knows, Dorothy has stolen the witch’s sister’s shoes and befriended two men cursed by the witch.

[th3sungod]

parkner au where harley technically remembers peter, and is very concerned that tony suddenly stopped talking about him one day.

he remembers hearing about tony's insanely smart intern and how he rivals even tony's genius ( harley would beg to differ on principal but tony never says that about anyone ) so he assumes the kid must be special. he absentmindedly assumed the kid was spider-man, and when he asked, tony simply told him 'i can neither confirm nor deny' which basically answer that question.

but, he never got a name for the intern. spider-man. the kid. underoos. spider-boy. spiderling. 'one of the two people fully responsible for every grey hair on his head' -- all names used, but never explicitly stating a name.

and, when after nearly a month and a half of not hearing a thing from Tony about him, he asks. at first he assumes he has no new stories since it's been a hot minute since Tony's even been able to do anything other than sit in bed and recover, but something isn't sitting right with him. he asks where's the intern been, and says as much about not hearing anything, throwing in a joke or two about leaving him on the side of the road, but Tony is silent.

"Who?"

"Uhh- your intern? Spider-man? Don't tell me you're already forgetting in your old age." Harley jokes dryly.

Except, Tony actually has no clue why Harley would think Spider-man interns for him. And, he doesn't seem to remember any instances he'd brought up when trying to jog his memory. He says he remembers Spidey helping for a few different things, but never stayed to chat and never revealed his identity.

So, given that it's not particularly out of the question, he automatically assume an alien has taken over Tony Stark's body and calls Pepper. And Pepper knows nothing. And after a very frantic bout of questioning, he takes the initiative to drive all the way to New York.

He doesn't know The Avengers, he talked to Rhodes and Vision maybe once at Tony's wedding, but something is most obviously wrong so his first thought is to tell them. Get there before whatever took over Tony's body, or is impersonating him, or something doesn't have the time to infiltrate the world's mightiest heroes.

No one knows anything. Happy said he drove him once, but he was in full costume and he doesn't remember the starting address off the top of his head. He feels like he's going crazy. He tells Tony as much.

He tells Tony about the kid from Queens he picked up basically off the side of the road, gave him a new suit, and every single story he can remember Tony told him about Spidey. It's a fucking long shot, but he recounts the Vulture incident and about how he took the suit, so he has to know who's under the mask.

Eventually, Tony tries picking out specifics about the dates Harley mentions, and can't honestly tell him what happened otherwise -- other than things that definitely don't add up.

Harley, now trying to think back to ever since time Tony even mentioned the kid, while simultaneously trying to figure out why the vigilante has been subsequently missing since around the time Tony stopped mentioning him, puts himself to work immediately. He said the kid had an aunt, he doesn't know her name. He went to one of the best STEM schools in New York, but he doesn't know which one. But, there are discrepancies. The AI he knows Tony made the kid is still functioning, though it won't locate since the HUDs been off for nearly a month.

Slowly, Harley finds himself spending every waking hour thinking of Spider-man, one of the world's finest, who simply fell off the face of the earth. And, by the time he finds concrete proof in the form of a picture and a name, Tony finally brings him to a resident wizard to help. There are no files on Peter Parker anywhere, so maybe magic will help?

What they find is a scrawny teenager half dead in an abandoned train station, wearing what's left of a spider-suit underneath dingy clothes. he's balled up, and doesn't hold a lick of peace in sleep.

he despises, then and there, he isn't leaving New York until whatever happened is fixed, and everyone remembers peter again. he doesn't know why any of this happened, but he's gonna damn help as much as he can.

( harley would've definitely heard the news of some teenager being outed as being spidey, but he never got a name. he did see a picture, so any memories of the outing are wiped from his mind. )

[yenqa]

10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU — TEASER

READ HERE!

in which...

you hate heeseung. you hate his snobby little voice, his stupid little glasses that are too big for him, his nosiness, and his ability to prove anything or anyone wrong easily. you hate hate hate the way you try to avoid him, but somehow he’s always around, and he can’t see how much you hate him. you swear nothing could make you like him, but after you get caught in a sticky situation with him playing your knight in shining armor, you realize that maybe he isn’t so bad after all.

pairing — heeseung x fem!reader

genre — one sided enemies to lovers, highschool au, he falls first she falls harder, oblivious x obvious, tutor x tutoree (kind of), childhood friends (ish because the whole one sided enemies thing) to lovers, long fic

wordcount — teaser is 1005! fic est. 9k-13k words (hopefully not too ambitious)

warnings — profanity, kissing (no suggestive stuff or nsfw), miscommunication, parties/underage drinking, name calling (bitch, whore, stuff like that), food

featuring — lia of itzy, miyeon of g-idle, hyung line of enhypen (sorry maknaes too many people), ocs : sooyun + teachers

disclaimer — i am not saying this is an accurate representation of these idols or trying to sexualize them at all. this just something i do for fun.

release date — hopefully by mid march?

taglist — open! send an ask or comment to be added!

yenqa — watched the movie on the plane and i was kind of obsessed… but this does not follow the movie plot, i just thought the title fit

YOU WATCH AS THE SNOW FALLS SLOWLY TO THE GROUND

A blanket of white has got you and the guests at your house locked in for the night. You weren’t very happy with these strangers staying at your house for the night—In fact, you had just been completely shut down by your dad when you asked him to kick them out. It was obvious why he did that, but this definitely had to be your least favorite christmas out of the eight you had been through.

You snap out of your thoughts, continuing to eat whatever you had left on your plate, hesitating when you saw the amount of vegetables still left.

“Mom! I’m full.” You try to hide your plate from her, showing her instead a pout with a hand on your stomach. 

It didn’t work—obviously, so you were stuck at the table, a frown on your face as you forced in the greens. Across from you, a boy your age, who didn’t seem to mind, he almost looked like he was enjoying it.

That’s impossible though, no one likes vegetables. Maybe he was doing it so Santa would get him an extra special gift?

You grumble when he finishes his place, showcasing his plate that had been licked clean to his mom. He stared at you for a second looking down at your—full plate then looking back at his mom, she said “Great job Heeseung!”. He returns his plate to the table with a smile. 

Stabbing your fork back into your food, you stuff it into your face, hoping that you would enjoy it as much as Heeseung did. Again, it didn’t work, and the bitter taste returned to your mouth.

After what felt like hours of groaning and complaining, you had taken the last bite of your food, a proud smirk on your face when you made eye contact with the boy from earlier, who only smiled at you in return. 

Throwing away your plastic plate, you realized that now it was present time, and Santa just had to reward you for your good deeds.

Rushing over to the tree, you spot everyone gathered around the area, opening their presents. You run to your present, recognizing the wrapping paper from last year. Looking at your mom for approval, she nods and you tear apart the paper, lifting up the box inside.

You squeal when you see the picture, you had been begging your mom for weeks for a Lego set, specifically if it was minecraft themed. And Santa had gotten you just that. You hug the box, squeezing it. You exclaim a loud “Thank you Santa!” before running up to your room to assemble the build.

Reading the directions, you start the house, quickly getting confused on how it isn’t looking like how it does in the picture. 

“I think that’s the wrong piece.” A voice says, you whip your head around to see the same boy who sat across from you.

“Who are you?” Your eyebrows furrow at the sight, confused on why those were the first words he said instead of “Hi!” or something.

“My name’s Heeseung—Um, my mom told me to come upstairs and said we should be friends. Do you want to be friends?” 

You huff, “I’m Y/n. Also no, I don’t want to be friends, you’re mean.” You force your legos together, frustrated already with the pieces. You continue to reread the directions, pushing—what you think are—the exact legos to the board. But it doesn’t seem like it’ll fit. Maybe if you push it harder?

“Oh—okay.” You jump slightly, too focused to realize how he's been watching you for the past few minutes. “Do you need some help?”

Yes, you need help. But did you want to accept his help?  . This was your christmas gift from Santa, you shouldn’t have to share.

Glancing at the picture then to the building that had looked like an abstract rendition of it, you let out a sigh. I mean, it wouldn’t hurt, right? “Yeah, I guess.”

He takes a seat on the carpet next to you, focusing hard on the directions before breaking off the wrong pieces, reassembling it so you’ll be on the right track.

“Does this go here, do you think?” “No, it goes here.”  That was a summary of what the conversation was between you, and somehow you were always the one asking the question. Sighing, you lean back, taking a short stretch break before starting again.

You’re shocked at his speed and efficiency, it almost seems like he’s always a step ahead of you. Geez does this guy ever slow down? 

The roles are quickly switched as you are sitting watching him instead. Rummaging through each box only for his eyes to lighten up one he finds the right one. You watch him for a while, getting a break that you very much needed.

You hope that he waits for you to finish it, or that he doesn’t completely do it all by himself because again,  it’s your Christmas gift, and he wouldn’t do that, right?

Not right, because apparently he’s a machine—he finishes the build. He stands up, pushes his stupid glasses up also and smiles at you, heading to the door. You think he’s going to say something else like “Sorry for taking away your present!” instead, he thanks you for sharing and happily skipping away. 

Heeseung. Even his name infuriates you. He was very unpredictable and you hated that. Why did he just do that? He’s so rude. People don’t make sense—especially boys, they have cooties.

Your head was filled with calling him the rudest things you could think of—You even said a few curse words.

Though later you realized that you probably would never see him again, you were ecstatic, so ecstatic you had disassembled your legos just to rebuild it, to completely forget about your bad experience with the boy. 

Only two weeks later were you disappointed to see that same boy, sitting across from you during dinner once again.

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