#this is. kind of that. but it's not exactly that

[reignpage]

Bath Time

Content: romantic, intimate sex with THE Nanami Kento (I'm willing to share him with you), unprotected sex, choking

“Come here, sweetheart. The bath’s perfect.”

You’ve had a long day — your boss was mean, blaming you for a missing file, your team were especially incompetent today, you dropped your sandwich and stubbed your toe on the freaking coffee table when you were settling down at home. It's like being stood on the edge of a cliff, having been shoved at every turn until there's nowhere left to go.

But Nanami Kento, being the best husband ever, saw the tension in your shoulders and the strain in your smile immediately. He held your face in his soothing hands and kissed your forehead, letting you know he’ll run you a bath and all you could do was insist he bathe with you. 

And, of course, he didn't turn down the invitation.

“Oh, Ken,” you moan as you submerge half of your body under the weather and lean back into his chest with his legs cradling yours. Hair tired up, you’re completely bare, skin to skin, and the steam is filling your vision. The hot water is amazing but you’re still tense, burrows furrowed as you think about all the things that went wrong. 

He hums, cupping water and letting it cascade over your body. “You must have had a long day, my love.”

“You have no idea.”

Kento grips your shoulders, fingers pressing and kneading in small, circular motions. His thumbs are working out the kinks and knots in your muscles, grumbling in disapproval over how overworked you are. You feel ripples of pleasure and relief washing over you, the water lapping gently around your bodies as you sink deeper into the bath, leaning further into his warmth. 

His hands explore lower, tracing the dips and divots of your collarbone, feeling and tracing in an intuitive rhythm. Years of love and devotion and faith have been buried in his bones; he knows exactly how to touch you so the tension melts away, so your eyelids are left fluttering shut and moans escape you. 

“Feel good, sweetheart?”

“Mhm, so good, Kenny,” you moan out with a smile. 

Pressing soft kisses to your dry hair, he mutters soft confession of love. His soft lips move to your neck, tasting the salt of your skin even through the fragrant soap. A faint lavender smell wisps with the steam, calming your nerves, but truthfully, all you can smell and feel and hear is Kento. 

Always Kento.

He’s being so sweet, so attentive, so kind and you're being very very bad. 

You shouldn’t be pressing your legs together and your nipples shouldn’t be tightening into stiff peaks. And when your hand falls onto his knee, you definitely shouldn’t be sliding it down his thigh, searching for something in particular. 

Although, to be fair, he should not be hardening against your back.

“Now, now, darling. This isn’t about me,” he chastises you, playfully biting your shoulder. 

You groan in complaint. “But Ken...I want to. I want to feel you. I want you inside of me. Please?”

Kento sighs and buries his face into the crook of your neck, arms winding around your waist to hold you close. You can tell he’s fighting the urge to do as you say, even though it would be so easy to just let you have what you’re desiring. You’re sure you’re soaked enough to have him slip in, it wouldn’t be the smoothest entry, but the stretch would be so delicious, like a massage from the inside. 

His hands are gripping your waist tightly but when one of yours pull at his, lifting it to carry the weight of a breast, he doesn’t put up a fight, rather he begins kneading as if he can’t help himself. Then he groans into your skin, thumb flicking your nipples, and you write in his arms.

“Oh, I could never say no to you, could I?”

Turning your head, you meet his lips with yours. It’s a slow, sensual kiss. You feel every drop of love from his very soul be swallowed by you and you can only accept everything he has to give. Whilst his hand continues to grope your breast, his other slides down your stomach and disappears between your legs. 

He grunts. “Sweetheart, you’re soaked.”

“I can’t help it,” you coo, “you’re just too good at massages, Kenny.” 

His fingers spread you open, his touching gliding around your clit where he begins rubbing tight, rhythmic circles, mimicking the motion he used on your shoulders. “Oh, that’s so good,” you whimper.

And when his fingers curve into your pussy, your back arches instinctively, hand clutching his wrist like you want to simultaneously keep him close and pull him away. His touch is firm, unyielding as he seeks out your pleasure, curling against the spongy part of your pussy that makes you release a shaky breath. 

“I missed you all day, darling,” Kento confesses. “I’m always ever so lonely when I’m not holding you.”

Hearing his gruff voice in your ear, calloused fingers massaging your insides and solid abs tensing at your back, you're being driven crazy. It’s too much and yet not enough. You want more, you want him inside. Now. 

He knows. 

He can see it in the way your ass is grinding against his hard length and the way you’re thrusting your chest in the air, encouraging him to pinch your nipple. And Kento’s never held anything back from you, never let you down, or left you wanting more. So, he lifts your hips, the water sloshing with the movement and you sink down on his cock.

“Here you go, beautiful,” he groans. “Take it all in, alright?”

Just as you had anticipated, the stretch is magnificent and you’re whimpering, nails digging into his thighs, the muscles there flex as he grunts. He’s sliding in with just the right amount of friction to leave you panting and when you bottom out, his hand flies up to your throat, holding your head close. The ceiling is all you can see as your mouth falls open in a perpetual moan.

Squeezing slightly, he steals your breath just as he thrusts up, heavy balls slapping your clit. You almost cum right there and then. 

“Ah, Ken!”

His mouth descends on yours, gulping every muttering of his name you’re feeding him. The water is sloshing around, moving with every thrust you make down his length, and when he rubs your clit again, bubbles form, frothing. Tiny droplets are clinging to your arms, and you can’t tell whether they’re from the bath or whether they’re beads of sweat. 

“God, you’re so tight, sweetheart,” he rasps, hand tightening around your neck. “I love you so much.”

Finding the energy to giggle, somehow, you tease, “Me or my pussy, Ken?”

“Both.” He emphasises his answer with a kiss to your temple, a smile pressed to your skin.

When he gives you a combination of a squeeze of your neck, a thrust up inside your wet walls and a pinch of your clit, you cum. Body tensing and back arching, you explode on his cock, an elongated moan reaching his ears and fuelling his own orgasm as you clench down on him painfully. 

“I love you so much, Ken!”

“God! Always so fucking tight, darling.”

Thick ropes of hot cum paint your insides as you both ride out your highs, and you’re groaning and holding each other tightly, afraid to slip and lose the warmth you’re emanating. 

Eventually, a silence falls upon the bathroom and the water stills to small ripples as you find contentment in each other's mere presence. The day's troubles fade anway and you can't even remember why you were so upset.

His voice is low, breathy and with a slight tremble when he asks, “Feel better, my love?”

You twist your body to kiss him, answering his question with your touch, sloppy cunt pulsing on his softening cock and swallowing the hiss he pushes out as you threaten to overstimulate him. 

"Careful, darling," he murmurs.

You whisper into his lips, “Thank you so much, Ken.”

Tearing up, you place a hand on his heart and rejoice in the galloping there, finding comfort that his beating reflects yours. Shaking his head, he pecks your mouth and with a conviction that makes you all gooey inside, he insists, “You never need to thank me for loving you, sweetheart. I’d do that for free and expecting nothing in return.”

And when he holds you like that, like you’re the most precious thing in the world and no one could ever take you from him, you know he means it. Because at every cliff you've found yourself on, he's the one that brings you back home.

Always.

[marypsue]

Man, it's cool and all if you see a metaphor for marginalisation in the monstrous, and if you want the power fantasy of 'what if you could just eat anybody who threatened you/pissed you off'. Me too.

However, as soon as you start saying 'no, these monsters are a 1:1 on Specific Marginalised Group, and you have to treat them in the fiction like they are directly representative of real human members of the marginalised group', BUT you also, in the fiction, make them hurt/kill/eat humans? And then try to shame me, your audience, for noticing or engaging with the bit where they kill people, because you made them directly representative of a real-world marginalised group? You have lost me, and also, I think, the plot.

[nosyp]

Twst Third Years reacting to someone else calling you 'honey' or 'sweetheart'

First Years | Second years

A/N = Likes, reblogs and comments r apprecaieted btw!

Trey Clover

He raises an eyebrow. Like what did he just say?

“Honey? Sweetheart? That's a little forward, don’t you think?”

Gives the person a polite but firm smile, subtly stepping closer to you.

HE WILL try to keep things calm but is lowkey plotting how to make sure that never happens again. Like you should probably... do something about him.

BUT in private, he’ll ask you if you’re okay with it, but also makes sure to remind you he’s got your back.

Cater Diamond

He laughs at first, but the playful glint in his eyes slowly shift into something more possessive.

“Oh? So you think you’re that close to (Y/N)?”

Gives the person a teasing grin before pulling you closer to him.

“You know, I think I’m the only one who gets to call them that. So how about we leave the nicknames to me, yeah?”

When alone with you, he’s definitely more affectionate but might joke about it a bit more.

Leona Kingscholar

Glares at the person, his face darkening in the process.

“The hell did you just call them?” he scowls.

He doesn’t hold back. His tone DRIPPING with irritation.

“You’ve got some nerve. Back off, they’re mine.”

Will pull you closer to him, practically growling if the person doesn’t get the hint.

Vil Schoenheit

Freezes for a moment, then smiles, but it’s far from a kind smile. It's more of... getoutofmyfacebeforeismackyouintotomorrow typa smile.

“How cute, you think you’re that familiar with them.”

Casually places a hand on your shoulder, making sure the other person notices how close you two are.

His voice is laced with poison: “I think you should stick to more formal terms. After all, you’re not exactly their type.” ouch that kinda hurts.

Vil keeps it classy but is definitely claiming you in his own way. He's probably not gonna let you out of his sight after this.

Rook Hunt

He simply... smirks. He's entertained. He's slightly enjoying this... but of course with a possessive glint in his eyes.

���Oh? Honey, you say? You’re a bit too forward for my liking.”

Leans in close to you, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“(Y/N) belongs to me, in a way that no one else can even dream of.”

He loves the tension it creates, and you can expect him to be a lot more possessive afterward.

Idia Shroud

His face turns red, and he freezes up.

'W-Wait, honey? Who the hell do they think they are?' his mind races.

You can practically see the steam coming out of his ears as he starts muttering to himself, fidgeting nervously. He's like a kettle about to BURST.

'I-I don’t like it when other people call them that! I get to call them cute names, okay?' he thinks to himself.

He doesn’t show it on the outside, but internally, he’s definitely marking his territory.

He tries to listen in on the conversation to know more about him for... reasons. AND goodluck to his online reputation cuz it's gonna be non-existent or absolutely ruined in a matter of seconds.

Malleus Draconia

Stares at the person, unblinking.

“Did you just refer to them as honey?”

His voice is calm, but his eyes have a dangerous glint.

Steps closer to you, his presence overwhelming.

“No one else has the right to address them that way. They belong to me.”

Will silently observe, but you’ll feel his possessive nature once the clouds start getting dark and raindrops fall from the sky. Then the air around you seems to shift, heavy with his unspoken claim.

Lilia Vanrouge

He chuckles, but his tone is laced with amusement and something more.

“Oh? Sweetheart, you say? How bold of you, but I think you’ve got it wrong.”

Laughs to himself and then ruffles your hair affectionately.

“(Y/N) is mine, so maybe you should pick a more appropriate nickname.”

While playful on the surface, you can feel the possessive edge in his words.

A/N = I love third years the most tbh

[jupiterpilgrim]

Silent Night, Whispered Secrets

Christmas Special 🎄

Yunjin x Male Reader

word count: 4.5K words

The office is eerily quiet on Christmas Eve, with only the soft hum of your computer and occasional clicking of the keyboard breaking the silence. Most of your coworkers left hours ago to start their holiday celebrations, but you're still here finishing up year-end reports. The only other person crazy enough to still be working is Yunjin, whose office is just down the hall from yours.

You've known Yunjin for the two years you've worked at the company. She started a few months before you and helped show you the ropes when you first joined. You hit it off right away, drawn to her quick wit and infectious laugh. She's the kind of person who can find humor in even the most mundane office situations, making even boring meetings more bearable with her subtle eye rolls and whispered commentary.

Physically, Yunjin is absolutely your type, though you've tried not to think about her that way given your professional relationship. She has a classic beauty about her, with delicate features framed by stylish glasses that give her a sexy librarian vibe. Her lips are full and naturally pouty, the kind that make you wonder what they'd feel like pressed against yours. She typically dresses conservatively for the office in blazers and pencil skirts, but you can tell she has a slim, petite figure with small breasts that suit her frame perfectly.

The sound of heels clicking on the tile floor pulls you from your thoughts. Looking up, you see Yunjin leaning against your doorframe, her jacket discarded and the top button of her white blouse undone.

"Still at it?" she asks with a sympathetic smile. "You know Santa won't come if you're still awake doing spreadsheets."

You can't help but chuckle. "Pretty sure Santa skips over office buildings anyway. What's your excuse for still being here?"

"Same as you probably - trying to get everything wrapped up before the holiday break." She walks into your office and perches on the edge of your desk, something she's done countless times during your friendly chats. "But I'm officially taking a break and you should too. We've been at this for hours."

The familiar scent of her perfume - something light and floral - wafts over as she settles next to you. You realize she's right about needing a break; your eyes are starting to blur from staring at the screen.

"Yeah, you're probably right," you concede, leaning back in your chair. "Most of this can wait until after Christmas anyway."

"Exactly! Speaking of Christmas..." She swivels to face you more directly, crossing her legs. "What are your plans? Big family gathering?"

"Pretty much the usual - heading to my parents' place tomorrow morning. Mom always goes overboard with the decorations and Dad pretends to complain about it while secretly loving every minute." You smile thinking about your family's traditions. "What about you?"

"Similar, minus the over-the-top decorations. Though my mom does make enough food to feed a small army." She pauses, seeming to consider something before asking, "Will your girlfriend be joining you?"

The question catches you off guard. In all your conversations, she's never directly asked about your relationship status before. "No girlfriend to bring along," you answer honestly. "Flying solo this holiday season."

"Really?" Her eyebrows raise slightly above her glasses frames. "I find that hard to believe. A guy like you, single at Christmas?"

There's something different in her tone now, a slight flirtatiousness that makes your pulse quicken. "What do you mean a guy like me?" you ask, playing along.

She adjusts her glasses in that adorable way she does when she's about to say something bold. "Oh, you know... Smart, funny, easy on the eyes." Her lips curve into a playful smile. "The kind of guy who probably has women fighting over who gets to kiss him under the mistletoe."

Your mouth goes dry as you process this shift in dynamic. Is Yunjin actually flirting with you? After two years of carefully maintained friendship?

"Funny, I was just thinking the same about you," you reply, testing the waters. "Surprised you don't have a line of guys waiting to take you home for the holidays."

She laughs softly, uncrossing and recrossing her legs. "Maybe I'm waiting for the right guy to ask." Her eyes meet yours with unmistakable intent now. "Someone who already knows me... understands me..."

The air between you feels charged with possibility. You've imagined moments like this before but always pushed the thoughts away, not wanting to complicate your friendship or work relationship. But now, with her looking at you like that...

"Yunjin..." you start, not quite sure what you're going to say.

She slides off your desk and extends her hand to you. "Come with me. I want to show you something."

You don't hesitate for a second, turning off the computer and getting up from your chair. Your heart pounds as you take her hand, letting her lead you out of your office and down the darkened hallway. Her fingers are soft and warm interlaced with yours. She guides you past the break room and copy area to a section of the building you rarely visit.

"Where are we going?" you ask, though you're happy to follow her anywhere at this point.

"Somewhere private," she answers mysteriously. "Where we can talk without worrying about security cameras."

She leads you into what appears to be a storage room, flicking on a small lamp that casts a warm glow over boxes of office supplies and forgotten furniture. It's cozy in an odd way, like a secret hideaway.

Yunjin turns to face you, still holding your hand. Her cheeks are slightly flushed and you can see her chest rising and falling with quick breaths.

"I need to tell you something," she says. "Something I've wanted to say for a long time but never had the courage."

You squeeze her hand encouragingly, heart racing with anticipation.

"I have feelings for you," she continues. "Real feelings, beyond friendship. I think I have for a while now but I was afraid to admit it, afraid of ruining what we have. But being here tonight, just the two of us... I couldn't keep pretending anymore."

The confession hangs in the air between you for a moment before you respond. "Yunjin, I had no idea you felt that way. I mean, I've definitely thought about you like that but I always told myself it was just a crush, that it would pass..."

"And did it? Pass?" she asks softly.

You shake your head. "No. If anything, it got stronger the more I got to know you. You're amazing, Yunjin. Smart and funny and beautiful... I love how you can make me laugh even on the worst days. How you always remember little details about things I've told you. How passionate you get when talking about things you care about..."

She steps closer, reaching up to touch your face. "We've been through a lot together, haven't we? All those late nights working on projects, lunch breaks spent venting about difficult clients, celebrating each other's wins..."

"Yeah," you agree, letting your free hand rest on her waist. "I guess it's natural that feelings would develop. We just... fit."

"We do," she whispers, then rises on her tiptoes to press her lips to yours.

The kiss is gentle at first, tentative, as if you're both still afraid of crossing this line. But then she sighs against your mouth and something ignites between you. Your arms wrap around her waist as hers circle your neck, pulling each other closer as the kiss deepens.

Her lips are even softer than you imagined, moving against yours with growing passion. You can taste mint on her breath, like she'd been preparing for this possibility. The thought makes you smile against her mouth.

"What?" she asks, pulling back slightly.

"Nothing," you murmur, trailing kisses along her jaw. "Just happy."

She tilts her head to give you better access to her neck, letting out a small moan when you find a sensitive spot. "Mmm... want to know what would make me happy?"

"Tell me," you breathe against her skin.

"Letting me give you your Christmas present." Her hands slide down your chest as she speaks.

You pull back to look at her, seeing desire burning in her eyes behind those sexy glasses. "What kind of present?"

Instead of answering, she starts unbuttoning her blouse, revealing smooth pale skin and a simple white bra underneath. Your breath catches as she reaches behind to unhook it, letting the garment fall away.

You can't take your eyes off Yunjin's exposed chest as she straddles your lap in the dimly lit storage room. Her breasts are small, almost flat against her slim frame, but they're absolutely perfect to you. Each one is barely a handful, topped with delicate pink nipples that have hardened in the cool air. The sight makes your mouth water with desire.

"I know they're not much to look at," she says shyly, noticing your intense gaze. "Most guys prefer bigger..."

You silence her self-consciousness by cupping both small mounds in your hands, feeling their subtle weight. "These are exactly what I want," you tell her firmly. "Perfect little tits that fit my hands just right."

She shivers as you run your thumbs over her nipples, watching them stiffen further under your touch. The rosy buds stand out proudly now, begging to be sucked. You lean forward slowly, maintaining eye contact as you take one peak between your lips.

"Ohhh..." Yunjin moans softly as you begin to suckle her breast. Her fingers thread through your hair, holding you against her chest as you worship her sensitive flesh.

You alternate between gentle suction and firm licks, paying attention to how she responds. When you graze your teeth lightly across her nipple, her whole body trembles and she lets out a gasp. You do it again, a bit firmer this time, and are rewarded with a breathy "Yes..."

Your hands knead her small breasts as you continue lavishing attention on her nipples. Despite their size, or perhaps because of it, they seem incredibly sensitive. Every touch, every lick, every gentle bite makes her squirm and moan in your lap.

You pull back slightly to admire your work - her nipples are now swollen and deep pink from your ministrations. "So responsive," you murmur, blowing cool air across the wet peaks and watching them tighten further. "I love how sensitive these little tits are."

"Only for you," she whimpers as you dive back in, this time taking as much of her small breast into your mouth as possible. There's something incredibly arousing about being able to almost fit the entire mound between your lips.

You suck firmly while massaging her other breast, feeling her nipple press hard against your palm. Her hips begin to rock subtly in your lap as her arousal builds. The movement makes your already hard cock throb with need, but you're determined to thoroughly worship these perfect little tits first.

Moving to her neglected breast, you trace circles around the areola with your tongue before capturing the straining nipple between your teeth. A sharp gasp escapes her lips as you apply just enough pressure to toe the line between pleasure and pain.

"Oh god," she pants, grinding more insistently against you now. "That feels so good... I never knew my breasts could be this sensitive..."

You hum against her flesh, the vibrations making her shudder. Your hands slide around to grip her ass, helping guide her movements as she rocks in your lap. Each roll of her hips makes her small breasts sway slightly, a hypnotic sight that has you alternating between watching and tasting.

"Such perfect little tits," you murmur between licks and kisses. "Love how they bounce... love how responsive they are... love how they fit in my mouth just right..."

Your praise seems to turn her on even more. She arches her back, pressing her chest more firmly against your face as you continue your oral assault on her sensitive peaks. Her breathing becomes more ragged with each passing minute.

You bring your hands back to her breasts, squeezing them together so you can move back and forth between nipples more easily. The sight of her small mounds pressed together, topped with those pretty pink nipples, is incredibly erotic. You lap at both peaks simultaneously, making her cry out.

"Please," she whimpers, though you're not sure what she's begging for. You respond by sucking harder, drawing one taut nipple deep into your mouth while pinching and rolling the other between your fingers.

Her whole body is trembling now as you continue your relentless attention. You can feel how wet she is through her panties as she grinds against your lap, seeking friction. The combination of your mouth on her sensitive breasts and the pressure against her clit seems to be driving her wild.

"I think..." she gasps, clutching your head tighter. "I think I might... from just this..."

The revelation that she might cum just from breast play spurs you on. You double your efforts, sucking and licking and nibbling at her swollen nipples while your hands massage the soft flesh of her small breasts. Her movements become more erratic as she chases her pleasure.

"That's it," you encourage between sucks. "Let go for me... show me how sensitive these perfect little tits are..."

With a sharp cry, she does just that. Her body goes rigid in your lap as waves of pleasure wash over her, triggered by nothing more than your mouth on her breasts. You continue gently sucking and licking through her orgasm, prolonging the sensation until she weakly pushes your head away, too sensitive to take any more.

"I've never..." she pants, looking down at you with wide eyes. "That's never happened before..."

You press soft kisses to her flushed chest, admiring how her nipples are now deep red and slightly swollen from your attention. "Just proves what I said - these are perfect."

With a smile Yunjin slides down your body with a hungry look in her eyes, her delicate fingers work at your belt buckle as she settles between your legs, licking her lips in anticipation.

"Now I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel," she purrs, finally freeing your throbbing cock from its confines. Her eyes widen slightly at the sight. "So big..." she whispers, wrapping her small hand around your shaft.

You groan at the first contact, already rock hard from getting her off with just breast play earlier. She starts with slow, exploratory strokes, learning the feel of you. Her other hand cups your balls gently, rolling them between her fingers as she studies your reactions.

"Tell me if it's good, okay?" she asks softly, her hot breath ghosting over your tip. "I want this to be the best you've ever had."

Before you can respond, she leans forward and drags her tongue from base to tip in one long, slow lick. Your cock twitches in her grip as she swirls her tongue around the head, gathering the bead of precum that's formed there.

"Mmm," she hums, savoring the taste. "Already so excited for me..."

She continues teasing you with her tongue, tracing the prominent veins along your shaft and paying special attention to the sensitive spot just under the head. Her hand keeps up a steady stroking motion, spreading her saliva along your length.

When she finally takes you into her mouth, you have to fight not to thrust up into that wet heat. She starts shallow, just sucking on the tip while her tongue works against the underside. Her eyes flutter closed as she focuses on the task, clearly enjoying herself.

"Fuck, that feels good," you groan as she gradually takes more of you in. Her mouth is so hot and wet, and the suction is perfect. She hums in acknowledgment, the vibrations sending pleasure shooting through your cock.

One hand wraps around what doesn't fit in her mouth yet, working in tandem with her lips and tongue. The other continues massaging your balls, occasionally trailing lower to tease your perineum. The dual stimulation has your toes curling.

She pulls off with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting her lips to your cock. "I love how hard you are," she says, pumping you with both hands now. "Love feeling you throb in my mouth..."

Before you can respond, she's diving back down, taking you even deeper this time. Her tongue pressed flat against the underside of your shaft as she bobs her head, building a steady rhythm. The wet sounds of her sucking fill the room, obscenely erotic.

You thread your fingers through her hair, not guiding her movements but just wanting to touch her. She moans around your cock in response, the vibrations making you groan. Her pace picks up slightly, switching between deep sucks and focusing on the sensitive head.

"Just like that," you encourage as she finds a particularly good rhythm. "Your mouth feels fucking amazing."

She pulls back again, this time to focus solely on your tip while her hands work your shaft. Her tongue swirls around the head before flicking rapidly against the frenulum, making your hips jerk. "Want to taste every inch of you," she murmurs before taking you deep again.

This time she doesn't stop until you hit the back of her throat. She holds there for a moment, swallowing around you, before pulling back for air. Strings of saliva connect her lips to your cock as she gasps.

"So fucking hot," you groan, watching her catch her breath. Your cock twitches in her grip, achingly hard from her skilled attention.

She smiles up at you before diving back in, this time maintaining eye contact as she works you over. The sight of her pretty lips stretched around your girth while she stares up at you with lust-filled eyes is almost too much.

Her technique varies between long, slow sucks taking you as deep as she can manage, and focusing on the tip with quick flicks of her tongue. She seems to delight in finding what makes you moan loudest, repeating movements that get the biggest reactions.

"Getting close?" she asks during another brief break, her hand never stopping its stroking motion. When you nod, she smiles. "Good. I want to taste your cum... want to swallow every drop..."

The dirty talk combined with her renewed oral assault has you right on the edge. She seems to sense this, doubling her efforts. One hand pumps your shaft while the other gently squeezes your balls. Her mouth focuses on your sensitive head, sucking firmly while her tongue works the underside.

"Fuck, I'm about to cum!" you growl, staring down at Yunjin's face as she works your throbbing cock with her skilled mouth. Her designer glasses are slightly fogged up from her heavy breathing, adding an irresistibly naughty librarian vibe to her cock-hungry expression. Those plump, glistening lips stretch obscenely wide around your thick shaft as she bobs her head with expert precision.

Rather than slow down at your warning, she doubles her efforts - taking you even deeper into her hot, eager mouth. Her full, pouty lips form a perfect seal around your cock as she sucks harder, her tongue dancing and swirling along your sensitive length. Drool runs down your balls as she services you with single-minded determination, the wet sloppy sounds of her enthusiastic sucking filling the room.

You reach down to tangle your fingers in her silky hair, accidentally knocking her glasses slightly askew. She doesn't miss a beat, continuing to worship your cock while reaching up to adjust them with one hand. The intellectual look of her wire-rimmed frames contrasts deliciously with the absolutely filthy things she's doing with that talented mouth.

Her crimson lipstick is completely ruined now, smeared all over your cock in scarlet streaks. The sight of those perfect dick-sucking lips wrapped around you, combined with her sultry gaze behind those sexy glasses, has your balls drawing up tight. She must sense how close you are because she takes you impossibly deeper, until you feel the back of her throat squeezing your sensitive cockhead.

Her nose presses against your pelvis as she deep-throats you with practiced ease, her glasses fogging up even more from her heavy breathing. The rippling sensation of her throat muscles working around your length finally pushes you over the edge.

"Fuuuuck!" you roar as your orgasm hits like a freight train. Your cock pulses violently, shooting thick ropes of hot cum directly down her eager throat. She moans in satisfaction around your spurting length, continuing to suck and swallow rhythmically as you empty yourself into her hungry mouth. Not a single drop escapes those perfect cock-hungry lips.

Even after you're completely drained, she keeps gently nursing on your sensitive head, her tongue lapping up every last trace of cum. Only when you're trembling from overstimulation does she finally release you with an obscene pop. Your cock emerges glistening with her saliva, still twitching occasionally.

She looks up at you with heavy-lidded eyes behind her slightly steamed glasses, licking those full, swollen lips with obvious satisfaction. A thin strand of saliva and cum still connects her mouth to your cock. "Mmm, fucking delicious," she purrs, her voice slightly hoarse from taking you so deep. She gives your softening length one final kiss before sitting back on her heels.

Your legs feel weak as you watch her run her tongue over her lips again, savoring your taste. Her ruined lipstick smeared across her mouth and chin. Combined with her messy hair, fogged glasses, and the hungry look in her eyes, she's the perfect picture of debauchery.

"That was incredible," you manage to say once you catch your breath. She just grins wickedly, clearly proud of her cock-sucking skills. And rightfully so - you've never had your dick sucked with such enthusiasm and expertise before.

"I love the way you taste," she says, running one finger along her bottom lip while pushing her glasses back up her nose. "And the way your big cock feels stretching my mouth open. Makes me so fucking horny." To emphasize her point, she brings both hands up to her small breasts, squeezing them firmly through her top.

The sight of her playing with herself while looking at you with those intelligent eyes behind her frames makes your spent cock twitch with renewed interest. She notices and laughs, her hands still kneading her chest. "Already wanting more? Such a greedy boy." She leans forward to plant soft kisses along your shaft, which is already starting to harden again.

"Can't help it when you've got such perfect dick-sucking lips," you tell her, running your thumb across her plump bottom lip. She captures the digit between her teeth, sucking it into her mouth with a sultry look. The combination of her hot tongue swirling around your thumb and her glasses sliding down her nose again makes your cock throb.

"These lips were made for worshipping cock," she agrees after releasing your thumb with a wet pop. "Especially yours. I love how thick you are - really makes me work for it." She emphasizes her point by wrapping those gorgeous lips around just your sensitive head, sucking gently while maintaining eye contact through her slightly fogged lenses.

You groan at the sight and sensation. "Fuck, you really are insatiable aren't you?" Your hand finds its way back into her hair, careful not to knock her glasses off this time as you guide her movements. She starts taking more of your rapidly hardening length into her mouth again.

She pulls off just long enough to say "When it comes to sucking your cock? Absolutely." Then she's diving back down, taking you to the root in one smooth motion that has you seeing stars. Her throat contracts around you as she swallows, making you gasp.

Your grip in her hair tightens as she starts bobbing her head with renewed vigor. The wet sounds of her enthusiastic cock-sucking fill the room once again. She alternates between taking you deep in her throat and focusing on your sensitive head, her talented tongue doing incredible things that have you moaning.

"Such a good little cocksucker," you praise her, making her moan around your length. Her glasses fog up completely as she works your cock faster. "Love watching those pretty lips stretch around my thick cock. You were born to suck dick, weren't you?"

She responds by taking you even deeper, until her nose is pressed against your pelvis again. The feeling of her throat squeezing around your cock while she looks up at you with those big, eager eyes behind her steamed-up lenses is almost too much to handle.

"That's it, take it all like a good girl," you growl, using your grip on her hair to hold her in place for a moment. She moans and squirms, clearly loving being used like this. When you finally let her pull back for air, she gasps and immediately dives back down for more, quickly adjusting her glasses before wrapping those perfect lips around you again.

Her enthusiasm is infectious. You start thrusting your hips slightly, fucking her willing mouth while she moans encouragement. The sight of your cock disappearing between those perfect cock-sucking lips over and over, combined with her sexy librarian look, has you racing toward another orgasm embarrassingly quickly.

"Gonna cum again," you warn her through gritted teeth. She responds by sucking even harder, her cheeks hollowing as she works to draw out your load. Her tongue does wicked things to your sensitive head while one hand massages your heavy balls.

This time when you explode, she pulls back just enough to catch your cum on her tongue. You watch in awe as rope after rope of hot cum paints those gorgeous lips and fills her eager mouth. Some of it lands on her glasses, making her look even more debauched. She makes a show of swallowing it all down before licking her lips clean with a satisfied smile.

"Mmm, even better the second time," she purrs, giving your sensitive cock one final kiss. Her lips and chin are glazed with a mixture of cum and saliva, her lipstick completely destroyed, and her glasses are splattered with your seed. "Well, what did you think of my blowjob? Think that lived up to being the best you've ever had?"

"Fuck yes. Your lips, your mouth, your tongue, those fucking glasses... You're perfect, Yunjin.”

Still on her knees, she reaches for the open cardboard box nearby. It’s crammed with small packs of wet wipes. She plucks one out, tearing it open with her teeth before pulling a single wipe free. As she starts cleaning her glasses, she laughs softly. “These glasses? Expensive as hell,” she says, wiping the lenses with a casual ease. “But having you cum all over me while wearing them? Fucking worth it.”

Her words make you shudder slightly, your breath catching as you watch her throw away the last used wipe, her face and glasses less messy now. She smirks, using her thumb to rub at the the forgotten bit of smeared lipstick.

When Yunjin finishes, she sighs, looking at you with those big lovely eyes. "Did you like your present?" she asks softly.

You pull her closer, crushing your mouth to hers, tasting yourself on her tongue but too far gone to care. “Best Christmas present ever,” you murmur against her lips, your hands finding her hips, pulling her impossibly closer as she melts into you.

"Merry Christmas then," she says with a playful wink, wiping her mouth delicately.

"To be honest, I've never liked Christmas as much as I do now," you tell her when your lips move away.

She laughs softly, tucking her head against your neck. "Just wait until you see what I have planned for New Year's."

You hold her close, both of you catching your breath as the reality of what just happened settles in. Outside the windows, snow has begun to fall, dusting the city in white. It's still Christmas Eve, you still have family obligations tomorrow, but right now none of that matters. All that matters is this moment, this woman in your arms, and the promise of more to come.

"We should probably head home soon," Yunjin says eventually, though she makes no move to get up. "It is Christmas Eve after all."

You press a kiss to her temple. "Five more minutes," you bargain, and feel her smile against your skin.

"Five more minutes," she agrees.

You sit there together in comfortable silence, watching the snow fall outside while your racing hearts slow to normal. Whatever happens next, you know this Christmas will be one to remember. And as Yunjin snuggles closer in your arms, you can't help but think that sometimes the best presents come when you least expect them.

The office will look different from now on, you think. The familiar halls and rooms now charged with memory - her hand in yours as she led you here, the first press of her lips against yours, the way she looked on her knees between your legs…

Finally, reluctantly, you both begin to dress. You help Yunjin button her blouse, stealing kisses between each button until she laughs and pushes you away playfully. Her hair is slightly messed up from your fingers and her lips are still swollen from their earlier activities.

She's never looked more beautiful.

"Walk me to my car?" she asks, slipping her hand into yours.

"Of course," you reply, squeezing her fingers gently.

As you make your way through the quiet building, you can't help but marvel at how much can change in a single night. Yesterday, Yunjin was just your friend and coworker. Now... now she's something more, something precious and exciting and full of possibility.

In the parking garage, she turns to face you before getting in her car. "Text me when you get home?" she asks, and you nod.

"Definitely." You pull her close for one more kiss, slow and sweet. "Merry Christmas, Yunjin."

She smiles against your lips. "Merry Christmas."

You watch her drive away, snow swirling in the headlights, before heading to your own car. As you drive home through the quiet streets, you can't wipe the smile off your face. This Christmas is already shaping up to be the best one yet.

Your phone buzzes with a text just as you're pulling into your driveway. It's from Yunjin: "Already missing those five more minutes 😘"

You reply quickly:

"We'll have to make up for lost time after the holidays."

Her response comes immediately:

"Can't wait 💕"

As you head inside, you find yourself actually looking forward to returning to work after Christmas. Who knew the office could hold such possibilities? But then again, with Yunjin involved, anything seems possible.

You fall asleep that night with thoughts of soft lips and gentle hands, of whispered confessions and promises of more to come. In your dreams, it's still snowing, and Yunjin is there, smiling at you through the white flakes, reaching for your hand.

Tomorrow will bring family gatherings and holiday traditions, but tonight belongs to the memory of her - the taste of her kisses, the sound of her moans, the feel of her skin under your fingers. It's the best Christmas gift you could have asked for, and it's only the beginning.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Christmas II

Hardersson x Baby!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your first holiday season

You sniffle a little bit in your pram.

You're fast asleep amongst your blankets but your little nose is red from the cold, as are your little cheeks.

"Are you sure you don't want to take her inside?" Popp asks as Pernille gently rocks the pram back and forth to settle you again. "It's warm there."

"She'll be fine out here," Pernille assures her," The cold air will be good for her lungs. We've got a call with Magda later and I want her to be awake for it."

"Magda can't come for Christmas?"

"She's still trying to sort out a flight but most of them are already booked up. She's going to try but..." Pernille sighs. "I don't know. It might just be me and the princesse. We'll survive."

"Well, you will," Popp laughs," But I'm not sure how long this one will in the cold."

Pernille rolls her eyes. "I told you! The cold is good for babies to nap in! She'll be fine!"

You sniffle a little in your sleep again, wiggling around in your pram and Pernille pops a dummy into your mouth. The effect is instant as you suckle it for comfort and drift back off to sleep again.

When you wake up, it's only because your dummy is being replaced with a bottle and people are standing over you and cooing.

Lots of your Momma's friends are watching you but it's the stern face of Caro that you focus on, legs kicking out happily as you feed from your bottle and reach out for Caro with your little grabby hands

"Caro's the favourite," Ewa teases, reaching up to ruffle her hair.

"Frido will be jealous," Pernille laughs as she adjusts your bottle so you're not drinking quite so quickly," She's convinced that she's the favourite."

Caro rolls her eyes dismissively. "Yeah, well Frido isn't exactly here, is she?"

Pernille's lips curl upwards into a smirk. "You've warmed up to my baby then? Because a few months ago, you would never say such a thing."

Your little hand curls around one of the fingers Caro offers you, a tight grip on the appendage that she wouldn't even get out if she tried.

"My heart isn't made of stone, Pernille," She says with an eye roll," Besides...y/n's...She's kind of cute when she's feeding."

"Do you want to feed her?"

"Let's not go that far. Baby steps."

You end taking yet another nap during the gym session and Pernille feels slightly vindicated when it's clear that this nap hasn't been nearly as nice as the nap you took in the cold air earlier.

The two naps you take at training gives you more than enough energy in the car to attempt to take both your shoes and socks off by the time that Pernille pulls up to the apartment.

In that time, you've managed both shoes, one sock while the other one hangs off half your foot.

"Good try, princesse," Pernille laughs, stroking a finger down your nose so you go adorably cross-eyed trying to follow it," But you haven't beat me yet. Let's get all of this back on, shall we?"

You make little huffing noises as Pernille puts your socks and shoes back on you, tightening them up so you won't be able to kick them off on the way upstairs to the apartment, as was your habit.

Pernille nearly drops her keys in shock at the sound of music playing through the front door, frozen in horror at the unexpected sound. Her grip on you tightens for a moment before Magda's horribly off tune singing reaches her ears and she's all but breaking the door down to get inside.

"You're here?!"

Magda's slumped over the kitchen table with a piping bag that she's trying to force icing out of to act as cement for a crumbling gingerbread house.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I...The flights? The airport? You said-"

"But it's a good surprise, yeah?" Magda teases, gently taking you from Pernille's arms and kissing her girlfriend on the lips," Besides, I couldn't miss the little one's first Christmas. I've got such a nice Chelsea kit to put her into! It's got my name on the back, you know."

Pernille laughs, somewhere between delight and shock.

"Ow!" Magda yelps as the back of a hand connects with her shoulder. "What was that for?!"

"I thought someone had broken in!" Pernille scolds before bursting into laughter. "Next time, send a text!"

"And ruin my surprise? Never!" Magda's voice goes high pitched as she lifts you up to blow a raspberry on your belly. "You hear that Princesse? I'm never going to ruin a surprise!"

Your peels of laughter echoe over the music playing, feet kicking happily as Magda does it again.

"Let's get these little booties off," Magda coos at you," And this silly little snow suit. We've got a Chelsea kit to put you in!"

"It's not Christmas just yet," Pernille reminds her before she can sweep you away," We don't do early presents in this house."

"Bah!" Magda waves a dismissive hand. "What's a few days early? She won't understand."

"That's not the point," Pernille says with a laugh," But, by all means, if you think you can get her in that kit without crying, go right ahead. I'm going to shower."

"Yeah, yeah...Wait, what do you mean?!"

Getting you into that Chelsea kit, like Pernille predicted, didn't exactly work. You started crying the moment it was brought near you and you didn't stop until Magda banished it from your sight.

Instead, you're put into a fuzzy reindeer onesie that matches with Magda's own and the one that she'd left for Pernille on the bed.

"Is that my little reindeer making that noise?" Pernille coos as she comes back into the room to the sound of your little giggles as Magda tickles your tummy with your swan and moose toy.

"It is!" Magda says proudly," Your little reindeer also decided we're going to watch some Christmas movies tonight."

"Oh she did, did she?"

"She did," Magda insists, flipping up your onesie's hood to show off the little antlers on it," She also requests that we order in dinner rather than cooking."

Pernille laughs. "I'll grab the menus."

[softbabybelle]

CORRUPTION𓍯𓂃 r ֶָ֢cameron 003.

rafe cameron x shy!reader

 𝜗𝜚 summary : rafe has been trying to get you alone for far too long and now that he finally has, he won't give the moment up for anything.

𝜗𝜚 words : 2.3k

𝜗𝜚 c!w : smut, humping, thigh riding, public!sex, finger sucking, risk of being caught, praise kink, kinda degradation kink.

part 1, part 2.

days had passed since the incident with rafe cameron and the boy who's name you didn't wish to remember.

this time, you hadn't gone out of your way to avoid the boy but instead went back to normal, almost as if nothing had happened between you two at all. you sat on the couch of tannyhill, giggling at something on sarah's phone with your legs crossed.

now, that simply wouldn't do.

rafe had been eager for a minute alone with you which seemed almost impossible when his sister was hanging off your side every minute you spent at tannyhill.

he was sitting on the living room couch, the one across from you both, scrolling on his own phone, a finger to his mouth as he gnawed at the completely bitten down nail.

his eyes kept travelling over to you, skimpy little summers dress clinging to your form while the skirt part began to ride up your thighs as you moved against the couch.

dirty thoughts swarmed his head, thoughts that shouldn't be repeated out loud. thoughts that shouldn't have been in his head to begin with.

he thought he was sure to be damned to hell for the things he was thinking.

and then, ironically enough, the gods seemed to smile down on him. it was as if all of his prayers had been answered and every beg and grovel had finally been listened to by an angel.

the angel who's name was wheezie, standing in the living room door frame. "sarah." wheezies hair was a mess, thrown into a bun with loose strands of hair sticking out every which way, she looked tired, so awfully tired and dreadful as she stared forward at her sister who's head instantly snapped up. "please help me. i'm trying clean out my wardrobe but it's too much."

a laugh fell from sarah's mouth. "no way. it's your mess, clean it yourself."

but that was when wheezie's arms crossed over her chest, cocking a brow. "I'm sorry, who covered for you and topper last night?"

"wheezie!" sarah exasperated, glancing out into the hallway. ward and rose were upstairs but sarah still didn't wish for them to hear about the late night activities she'd been getting up to with her boyfriend.

defeated, she turned her head back to you, who was sitting so sweetly on the couch, that same sickly sweet smile crawling up on your features. you liked watching the cameron siblings interact, even if it wasn't always so pleasant, there was something oddly homely about it. "'s okay, sarah, 'm fine down here."

"okay." she sighed, getting up from the couch. "okay, you just―just hang out for a while and i'll be down soon, okay?" she watched you nod. "okay, come on, let's get this over with."

and suddenly, tension ran thick through the air.

it was you and rafe, alone.

his legs were spread apart on the armchair he was seated on, eyes running up and down your body. you seemed to notice your dress riding up and instantly tugged it down with pink cheeks. you swallowed thickly. "I, uhm―i wanted to say thank you." your eyes finally looked up to reach his.

the minute he heard your voice, his phone was turned off and tossed away. his head cocked to the side. "what for?" teasing. for he knew exactly what for.

you squirmed in your place. "for everything you did with max."

"didn't seem too grateful when you ran away, hm?" he didn't mean the bitter words that slipped from his lips. he watched the way you hung your head low, eyes glassing over. instantly, a kind of guilt washed over him and he leaned back further into the chair. "c'mere." and he patted his thigh, watching your eyes flicker down. you glanced out to the hallway and he had to roll his eyes. "'s okay, nobody'll see you. they're all too busy."

you did as you were told, crossing the room and landing in his lap.

there was something so sensational about being in his lap again.

memories flooded your head, pictures and images of you and he, in this same predicament inside his bedroom, his lips tainting yours. you couldn't help but latch your eyes onto his lips.

"you wanna tell me why you keep runnin' away, hm?" you don't answer, eyes searching anywhere but his face. he doesn't allow it, turning you slowly towards him once again. "asked you a question, sweetheart."

you fought words inside your mouth, all threatening to come tumbling out. "was scared." is all he's met with.

"scared of what?" his head dips, his eyes trying to reach yours, trying to look in and gauge your emotions. "scared of me?"

you shook your head, fingers reaching out to trail across the fabric of his sweater. "i... liked it when you kissed me." you admitted and he watched as a blush fell across your face, red reaching the tips of your ears. "i liked it a lot but 'was scared that sarah would find out 'n i don't―"

"sarah doesn't need to know anything." he answers quickly. "besides, who you kiss..." his fingers trailed across your bottom lip, sucking in his own bottom one between his teeth as he gazed down at them, sweet like honey. "is none of her business, yeah?"

you nodded too quickly, too eagerly, too convinced by his words too quickly. "'m sorry, rafe, 'm really sorry."

"think i know how you can make it up t'me." his fingers left your lips and placed themselves against your hips. "you wanna make it up to me?"

"yes, please." came out too swiftly.

he couldn't help but smirk at your eagerness. "'m gonna kiss you again, okay?" and suddenly, you could feel heat pooling in the bottom of your stomach. he leaned in, his breaths falling hot against your face, his scent filling your senses. and just as his lips brushed against your own, he whispered. "you gotta promise me something first, 'kay?"

you licked your wet lips. "anything." wanting nothing more than for rafe to lean in and seal the kiss. you'd do anything he ever asked.

"no runnin' away this time." his fingers pinched at your jaw, holding it so your eyes could reach his. "you want this? you take it 'n you don't go pushin' me away again, alright?" a curt nod. "words, princess."

"promise." you spoke quickly. "promise, rafe, please."

his lips quirked.

but he didn't keep you waiting.

when his lips crashed into yours, you were very aware of the fact that you were sitting on the couch of tannyhill, the living room door wide open. all it took was for ward or sarah to come down the stairs and they'd see what you'd been up to.

they'd see that you weren't such a good girl after all.

but you couldn't seem to care.

you were too focused on his hot hot lips, tongue slipping into your mouth as he deepened the kiss, hands pinching at your waist, holding you in place.

your mind began to unravel, all you could think about was him. rafe cameron. you were sitting on his lap, kissing him, again. and you swore it was a feeling unlike any feeling you'd ever felt in your entire life. it was making you so desperate, so messy, so wet.

and you were sure he could feel it too. he tugged on your waist, rolling your hips against him.

you let a whimper be swallowed by his mouth.

his lips finally broke from yours for air but he didn't allow himself enough to fully regain his breath before they were latched beneath your jaw, sucking and kissing harshly.

again, he rolled your hips. you weren't sure if it was him moving you or you doing it by yourself now. you could feel him growing hard beneath you, you could feel him pressing himself up against your clothed pussy and all you could think about was how much you needed everything off.

you needed to feel him, skin to skin.

it seemed so close yet stretched so far away.

his hands ran up the skin of your thighs, pushing the fabric of your dress up as he went. "r-rafe." you whimpered out, head turning to the door. "someone could see―"

"'s what you asked for, isn't it?" his hands were rough against you, tugging the dress upwards, not caring for the family who remained upstairs. "isn't it?"

you swallowed thickly. "yes." you stammered out. "b-but―"

"you still wanna make it up to me, don't you?" his brows knitted together in this false sense of sadness, as if you'd done something awful to the poor man. you'd felt suddenly guilty for even suggesting that you stop.

you felt yourself ease against him, your own brows pinching together. "'m sorry, rafe, swear 'm sorry. i'll do anything, jus' please don't be angry―"

"'m not angry." he assures you, fingers brushing up and down your thighs, inching too high. "jus' need you to do something f'me, can you do that, sweetheart?" you were nodding like a puppy, eager to do anything he would ask of you. he maneuvered you so you were situated on one of his spread thighs and not his lap anymore. "y'gonna rub yourself on my thigh like the pathetic good girl you are, okay?"

you'd never done anything like this before.

suddenly you began to panic. "rafe, someone'll hear 'n―"

"nobody'll hear you, baby, jus' gotta be nice 'n quiet, yeah?" you still looked hesitant, top teeth clamping down on your bottom lip. "would make me feel so good, princess 'n you jus' wanna make me feel good, isn't that right? yeah, baby, jus' wanna make rafe feel good, you're such a good girl, aren't you?"

and you don't know how, why, or when but suddenly, you're doing just what he told you.

your hips are stuttering as they move against his jeans, you can feel your panties growing wetter and wetter with every jolt of movement.

rafe doesn't appear to be doing much, hands skillfully moving your hips while he leans back against the armchair.

"there you go, good girl." his cock twitched in his jeans, watching your hesitant, shy face as you moved oh so slowly on his jeans. "lift your hips f'me, sweetheart." you did as you were told, pausing to lift yourself up from his thigh. his hand moved beneath you, tugging your panties to the side and rubbing gentle circles against your clit.

"oh." fell so sweetly from your lips that to anybody else, it would have appeared almost innocent. but rafe was well aware of how dirty you really were.

he landed you back on his thigh, letting you rub yourself against him, this time, it was your bare pussy that ran up and down his jean-clad thigh.

he groaned at the sight of you, free hand coming down to fix his situation that was suddenly growing in his pants. he pulled at the jeans slightly, trying to make his growing bulge less noticeable but there was simply too much to hide.

your eyes cast down to his hand, then to the bulge and you found a little whimper leaving your mouth.

his eyes studied your face, watching you lick your already wet lips and rubbing yourself against him a little quicker. sweet, poor, innocent, you was so turned on by his growing dick. and he could feel it by the dampness of his jeans turning wet hot

you really were filthy.

a particularly loud whine left your lips and rafe realised that perhaps it wasn't a smart idea to start this whole thing off while his whole family was home.

but he couldn't stop now. that'd be cruel. especially seeing how worked up he'd gotten you.

he trailed his fingers up to your lips and tapped on your chin.

you didn't even need to be told, you simply opened up. he stuck his digits right in, feeling your flat tongue against them and spit coating them.

"so filthy, baby." he uttered so softly, as if he were complimenting you. "what'll we do with you, huh?" you only whimpered around his fingers. "'s okay, sweetheart, gonna get that pussy stuffed jus' like you want. just gotta be patient, yeah? can you do that f'me?"

and you're sloppy against his thigh, sloppy against his fingers. you can feel juices rubbing against his jeans and dribble forming at the gaps between your lips and all you can do is not so dumbly.

a stutter of your hips.

a grin on his lips.

"you gonna cum, already, huh?" it didn't take long, but you were already approaching your orgasm. he wished now more than ever that he could take pictures with his mind. that he could frame this moment and pull it out every time his dick got hard. he slipped his fingers out from your mouth. "gotta ask like a good girl before you cum."

your hands pawed at his shoulders. "please, rafe." your mind was turned to mush. "please, please, please."

he shrugged so cruelly. "'m hearin' a lot of beggin' but i don't hear you asking me yet."

"p-please, can i cum?" your face was red hot, embarrassment flooding your features quickly. "please?"

he smirked, leaning back against the armchair and removing his hands from your waist. you were a big girl, you could finish yourself off. "go on, princess."

he watched as your hands pawed at him, hips stuttering and eyes rolling backwards, mouth falling open. it was such a pronographic, filthy scene. and yet, he knew by tomorrow, you'd be prancing around in the same little dress and everyone would see you as the same lovely good little girl that you pretended to be.

and rafe thought that was enough to make him cum in his own pants.

[enderlovez]

can you write Spencer Reid and his secret girlfriend that's a nurse/doctor, when the team comes back from a mission and reid is injured they all go to the hospital and they see them two flirting and figure it out

(sorry idk how to phrase it)

also can you tag me when it's out?

Kiss It Better

Spencer Reid x Nurse Reader

WORD COUNT: 1000+

Summary: Spencer gets injured on a case. Imagine his team's surprise when they come to see him and find his nurse flirting with him.

Content Warning: hospitals, Spencer got hurt on a case, probably a whole lot of medical inaccuracies, stitches and needles

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

Spencer sits on the edge of the hospital bed, his button-up shirt and cardigan draped over the back of a chair, leaving his undershirt rolled up past his elbow. His thighs are parted so you can stand between them, cleaning the small gash on his arm, your gloved fingers brushing over his skin with the gentlest touch.

"You know," you begin, your tone lightly teasing, "for someone with your IQ, you're really bad at stay out of trouble."

Spencer chuckles softly, though his ears turn a shade of pink. "It's not exactly something I plan for," he defends quietly, good arm wrapped loosely around your waist. "Besides, statistically, my injury rate is relatively low for the kind of work I do."

You glance up at him, a brow raised. "Spencer, you've been here three times in the last two months. At this rate, I should really just set up a reserved bed for you."

"Maybe I just like the company," he quips, and now it's your turn to blush slightly.

"Flirting isn't gonna get you out of a lecture about taking better care of yourself," you reply, tying off the final stitch and cutting the rest of the thread off. "There we are. Good as new."

Spencer watches as you peel off your gloves and toss them into the bin. Everything you do seems to catch him off guard, even after months of... well, whatever this thing between you two has become.

"You're amazing, you know that?" he murmurs.

You laugh lightly, shaking your head. "I just stitched up a cut. Pretty sure that doesn't qualify as amazing."

"To me, it does," he counters, his gaze soft as he watches you walk around the room. "You're brilliant and kind and—"

"—And wondering why you're still sitting here," you cut him off with a grin, moving back to your previous spot between his thighs and holding the back of your hand to his forehead. "Don't you have a team to get back to?"

As if on cue, the door swings open, and a group of people spills into the room, their voices a mix of concern and exhaustion.

"Reid, how's—" a man with a shaved head starts, but immediately stops again, his eyes narrowing slightly as they dart between the two of you.

The room grown awkwardly silent as they take in the scene: you standing between Spencer's legs—closer than any medical professional should be with their patients, his unbandaged arm hung loosely around your waist.

"Oh," says a woman with dark hair and a wicked smirk. "This is interesting."

Spencer shifts uncomfortable but doesn't quite move away. "Guys, this is—uh—this is Doctor L/N. She was just... patching me up."

"Patching you up, huh?" the man from before drawls, a teasing lilt in his voice, his grin widening. "Looks like a little more than that to me."

You straighten and take a step back, trying to maintain your professional demeanor despite the heat crawling up your neck. "Doctor Reid is in good shape now. He'll need to keep the stitches dry for a few days, but the cut wasn't too deep."

The blonde woman in the back raises an eyebrow, clearly biting back a smile. "Thank you, Doctor L/N," she says politely before her attention shifts to Spencer. "Though I have to admit, considering his arm got cut open, this is the first time we've seen him quite so... comfortable."

Spencer groans, his head falling slightly forward. "Can we not do this here? Please?"

"Oh, we're doing this," the dark-haired woman says, crossing her arms. "How long has this been going on?"

"Emily," Spencer pleads, his voice laced with something somewhere in-between exasperation and resignation.

You glance between then, suddenly feeling a little like a deer caught in headlights. "I'll just—uh—leave you all to it," you say quickly, stepping toward the door.

Spencer's hand shoots out, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest moment. "Wait—"

But you shake your head with a small, reassuring smile. "It seems you've got enough explaining to do without me making it harder."

As you slip out and shut the door, you hear the inevitable teasing start.

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

The hallways is surprisingly quiet compared to the chaos inside, and you take a moment to collect yourself. You've grown used to Spencer's shy smiles and occasional compliments, but seeing him surrounded by his team—people who clearly adore him and who are incredibly perceptive—feels like stepping into a spotlight you hadn't anticipated.

You're about to head back to the nurses' station when the door opens again, and Spencer emerges, wearing all his clothes and his cheeks still faintly red.

"They're never going to let this go," he says, running a hand through his hair.

You bite back a laugh. "I can see why. You should've warned me they'd be so observant."

"I was trying to keep things simple," he admits, stepping closer, "but apparently, we weren't as subtle as I thought."

"Subtle?" you repeat, raising an eyebrow. "You were practically glowing in there, Spencer! You were quite literally holding onto me."

He grins sheepishly. "I can't help it. You make me happy. I like being close to you."

Your heart does a little flip at his words, but you roll your eyes for his benefit. "Well, now that they know, I'm sure the rest of your team will, so I guess our secret's out."

"They'll adjust to the idea," he says lightly. "And for what it's worth, I don't mind them knowing. I'm proud to be with you."

You smile, reaching out to brush your fingertips against his. "I'm proud to be with you, too. Even if it means getting interrogated by the Behavioral Analysis Unit."

Spencer laughs, the sound warm and genuine. "They'll get over it. Probably."

"Probably?" you echo, laughing with him as you start walking back to the nurses' station.

He shrugs, his hand brushing against yours as he keeps pace. "I think Morgan might take longer. But that's okay. I'm not in any hurry."

@priv-rose

[sirxlla]

Whispering dirty Christmas lines in the Batboys ears 🎄

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

Dick: "Are you a candy cane? Because I’d like to lick you up and down." You said to him through comms.

"Y/N, you know everyone can hear you on comms." Dick stiffled a laugh.

"Oh, shit! Are you serious?" Embarressment and worry filling your voice.

"Nah, I'm just messing with ya. I switched our comms to private." Dick said with major confidence.

"Yeah, you must've not done it right Dumbass cause we can hear you loud and clear." Jason teases as he states through comms. Making your heart fall into your stomach.

Dick, in his embarressment stays silent the rest of patrol, you do as well. He thinks back to the comment in his heart swells proud of you for being confident enough to try to flirt with him considering usually you are fairly quiet and turned into a stuttering mess whenever he would flirt with you.

Jason: He was sitting on the couch reading a book just chilling. Something sweet about Jason is how the both of you needed space from each other on occasion but always came back to bother each other to tell each other about something that the other thought was interesting or random other things. You snuck up behind him even though he a thousand percent knew you were there before you got even close enough to whisper in his ear.

"Is your name Father Christmas? Because you look like a daddy to me." Giggling a bit as you spoke, your lips brushing against his earlobe.

"Babygirl, I'll be whoever you want as long as it makes you happy." He said with a charming smile; Something so lovely about Jason was how he could say just about anything and make it sound like smooth talking. He pulled you over the couch after setting down his book on the coffe table, sliding you into his lap facing him.

Bruce: You were in the cave filling in for Barbara as Oracle because she was feeling extremely sick this evening and Bruce wanted to give you a spin. Of course you have been flirting with him all evening.

"I need help spelling Elf. I have an E and an L. Can you give me an F?" You spouted the random Christmas pickup lines you read online cause this is exactly what Bruce intended the Batcomputer to be used for.

"I'm sorry, what?" He stopped in the middle of what he was doing on patrol.

"Seriously you just now noticed? I've been flirting with you all evening." There was a humor to your voice as you asked him in disbelief.

"Are you serious?" He asked with complete confusion and disbelief.

"Yes, I'm serious." An infectious laughs escaping your lips.

"Well at least youre having fun, Darling." He stated with a smile begging to reach his lips.

Tim: Everyone was sitting down for dinner as you passed him you whispered in his ear.

"Are you the Polar Express? Because I’d like to ride you." That's all it took for him to choke on his drink his face turning bright red. Of course you just returned your seat and acted like nothing had happened.

"What'd she say?" Dick teased Tim, noticing his younger brothers bright red face.

"I don't know but he is sure definitely gonna give Rudolph a run for his money." Jason teased as well.

"My face is not red, I don't know what you guys are talking about." Tim suttered as he lied through his teeth glancing at you. Obviously you had no choice but to look at him but you famed and innocent smile like you didn't just say that until his ear.

Damian: Considering how grumpy of a man he is you kind of knew what to expect when what you flirted with him in any sort of cringey cliche sort of way but that didn't stop you from trying and the joy you felt from his reaction so you walked into the training room.

"Do you believe in kissing someone under the mistletoe? Because mistletoe is what I named my sheets." You asked Damian with a shit eating grin.

"That's the best you could come up with?" He says with a bit of an annoyed tone as he approches you. There's a glint in your eye as you try to run off before you tackles you, a smile graces his thin lips, his smile sharp and cheeky.

"Oh no, I didn't say you could leave." he says in a rather happy tone, a tone he didn't let a lot of people see. He was very mushy on occasion and he could be extremely sweet.

Masterlist

[andypantsx3]

BY THE BOOK : MIDORIYA IZUKU X READER

SUMMARY: When your pro hero boyfriend comes home to find you studying, he suddenly takes a great interest in helping out. You find his methods... questionable. TAGS/WARNINGS: nsft, hysterical literature (reading out loud while sexually stimulated), pro hero deku, deku still has ofa, support tech grad student reader, slight intelligence kink, gn + afab reader, cunnilingus, established relationship, aged up characters, fluff (3k) NOTES: Hi guys! I have been in survival mode as of late and the writing has been slow going; my sincerest apologies for how long it’s taking me to burn down my @ficsforgaza backlog. But I finally had the time & energy on my hands this weekend to work on this one and I had such a blast!! I hope I’m not too rusty—and if I am, I hope you enjoy it as much as I loved writing it regardless lol. Love you and thank you always for your patience. Happy Holidays!!

Sometimes, you thought you could tell your boyfriend was near, even before you heard his key in the lock.

It was something to do with his power, you’d always suspected—as a support engineer unduly interested in other people’s capabilities, you’d spent hundreds of hours turning it over in your head. It was the unnatural immensity of other people’s powers, you thought, pulling and coiling just beneath the surface of Izuku’s skin. In close proximity, after prolonged use, its presence felt like a shiver up the back of your neck.

You felt the barest hint of it now, an unsettled feeling creeping into the marrow of your bones, and you sat up on the couch just as you heard the scratch of Izuku’s keys at the door.

One For All fit cleanly into Izuku’s own unwavering intensity somehow, like the last piece of his puzzle. Though one would certainly never think so looking at him as he spilled through the door, pink-cheeked from the cold, all bright eyes, sweetly angelic features, and a riot of wild green curls. He looked windswept from the biting winter breeze. He also looked too kind to be carrying the sort of power he did—too sweet and eager and lovely.

“Look what the wind blew in,” you grinned at him over the back of the couch, after assessing he was well. Your eyes tracked the sinuous movement of those broad shoulders as he yanked his mouthguard over his head, the flex and pull of his bicep as he hung it beside the door. He was moving without pause, no sign of injury or muscle strain , and his suit was intact. Ordinarily you didn’t mind if there was a bit of shredding about the abs as long as he came back to you whole and hale, but in the winter you didn’t like him wandering about risking the chance of frostbite.

Your heart fluttered when Izuku returned your smile with one of his own, so beautiful and bright, chasing away the cold he’d tracked in like a warm sliver of sun.

“Lots of small, easy fights today?” You guessed, judging from his intact suit but clear whiff of power about him.

Izuku scrubbed a hand through that riot of curls, exposing the reddened shell of a cold ear. “I only had to use blackwhip a couple of times,” he said as he shouldered the door closed behind him, the muscle of his thighs flexing enticingly as he stepped out of his boots.

You gestured at the pot of soup you’d left warming on the stove, and the veritable pile of crusty bread beside it. Warmth and carbs, exactly what you would have wanted if you were a pro hero fresh off a long day of patrolling in the snow.

Izuku’s eyes fixed on it with an obliging amount of interest, and he almost tripped over himself in the genkan in his haste to get to the kitchen. “I love you,” you heard him say, muffled through a mouthful of bread, heard the clatter of the silverware drawer and a bowl being placed on the counter.

You smiled and turned back to the book in your lap, a particularly dry, knotty text on robotic imitation learning that had had your eyes drifting closed for the better part of an hour. It was the last you’d need to get through for your Wearable Technologies graduate course, and something you were deeply interested in incorporating into your design practice. You could train a piece of equipment on how an individual pro hero moved and deployed their quirk, and use predictive modeling to deploy assistance functionalities within milliseconds if you got it right—such as immediate cooling in pro hero Shouto’s temperature vest the moment he ignited an arm.

The implementation was going to be so cool—but the theory was so mind numbing.

You felt the couch sink in beside your feet, and Izuku peered interestedly at the title in your lap.

“Introduction to Robotic Imitation Learning,” he echoed, and you could hear the note of excitement in his voice. You suppressed a fond smile, knowing he was already thinking through the same applications you had—he was just as much of a nerd as you were.

“Introduction to Snoozing and Napping,” you grumbled, turning back to your page. “There are only so many words on the Kalman filter framework a brain can handle before the human mind shuts itself down.”

Izuku hummed in interest around a spoonful of soup, propping himself up against your leg. The exterior of his suit was still cool from the outside, and he groaned with relief from the warmth of your skin, even as you hissed at the chill.

You knew he wanted you to go on, so you generalized for him. “It’s an algorithm used for robotic motion planning—you not only take measurements of the thing you want to model but you account for uncertainties to predict the probability that something is going to happen.”

Izuku nodded, taking another spoonful of soup, gesturing for you to go on.

You summoned up the willpower to explain joint probability distribution, pleased when Izuku easily managed to follow—he’d always been a quick study, especially of anything that could be employed in the service of heroics. You’d long thought if he hadn’t been gifted his quirk, he would be an insane support engineer.

He managed to finish his entire bowl of soup in the time it took you to explain, and housed another two slices of buttered bread with the sort of alacrity you’d only ever seen in pro heroes and professional athletes, making you smile while you spoke.

His spoon clinked softly against the edge of the bowl as he set them aside on the coffee table, and he hooked his chin over your knees as you finished explaining. In the setting sun from your windows he looked especially lovely, the kind, angular planes of his face brushed in gold, softening the spots of his freckles.

His eyes were especially bright, the way they always were when something in particular had caught his interest, and he smiled at you again over the tops of your knee caps.

“I admire how smart you are,” he told you, in the simple, straightforward way he always gave out compliments. It was like a shot to the heart every time, and you could feel your face warm with the praise even after years of receiving similar compliments.

You reflexively flapped a dismissive hand. “Not smart enough to have internalized it all! I have mostly been falling asleep to it,” you promised him.

He tilted his head, a green curl falling into his eyes. “I know you won’t have a problem when you’re awake.”

You shifted your legs with embarrassment, and a long fingered hand came up to cup the front of your thigh, as Izuku turned more fully towards you. You could feel the warm, hard planes of his chest against your shins, the line of his jumpsuit’s zipper pressing insistently just below your knee.

“Gotta try to impress you somehow,” you joked, your skin prickling as Izuku’s fingers absent-mindedly drew a pattern across your thigh. You could feel the heat of his hand through the thin material of the leggings you’d lounged around in all day, the chill finally chased away from his skin now that he’d come inside and warmed up.

“You do impress me,” he said in his soft, gentle tone. Which made your cheeks and nose burn hotter.

You knew you did, and the steady faith Izuku had in the people around him was one of your favorite things about him. It still made you feel like a middle schooler with a crush to think about, though, the intensity of your feelings too much for one body to handle.

“I will study hard to live up to your faith in me,” you promised, unable to help the goofy smile you knew you were giving him.

Izuku’s chin shifted against the tops of your knees, and he pressed his mouth to the knob of your left one, leaving a smiling kiss. “Tell me more?” he asked, fingers still sliding softly over your thigh.

“I’ll read it to you as I go, then,” you said, turning back to the brick of a tome, propping it up more firmly on your stomach as you adjusted yourself against the couch arm. Izuku’s eyes watched you over the top of the pages, that emerald gaze tracking your face closely.

“‘The algorithm works via a two-phase process: a prediction phase and an update phase’,” you began, trying to turn your attention away from Izuku and back to the text. “‘In the prediction phase, the Kalman filter produces estimates of the current state variables, including their uncertainties. Once the outcome of the next measurement (necessarily corrupted with some error, including random noise) is observed, these estimates are updated using a weighted average, with more weight given to estimates with greater certainty.’”

Izuku’s long fingers traced firmer lines across your thighs, almost like he was taking notes. He layered another kiss along the line of your knee, eyes glittering at you as you read.

“‘The algorithm is recursive,’” you continued, “‘It can operate in real time, using only the present input measurements and the state calculated previously and its uncertainty matrix; no additional past information is required.’”

You almost jumped as Izuku’s mouth trailed lower, into the space between your knees, leaving kisses along your inner thigh. His fingers gently pulled one thigh away to make space for him in between, and you cleared your throat, trying to return to the text at hand.

“‘Optimality of Kalman filtering assumes that errors have a normal–that is, Gaussian–distribution,’” you read on. “‘The following assumptions are made about random processes: Physical random phenomena may be thought of as due to primary random sources exciting dynamic systems. The primary sources are assumed to be independent gaussian random processes with zero mean; the dynamic systems will be linear.’”

Izuku let out a soft breath, insinuating himself further between your thighs. Your own breath came out a little uneven as he bent over you, mouth tracking dangerously towards the inseam of your leggings.

You paused, but Izuku fixed you with a look of his slightly-darkened eyes. “Please—keep reading,” he said, his tone a little lower than it had been a minute ago.

You swallowed in shocked understanding, skin tingling. You felt yourself nod, as Izuku’s fingers strayed to the waist of your pants, dipping below the band.

You let him slowly peel your leggings down, your underwear with them, adjusting as needed to make it easy for him, even as you tried to return your attention to your textbook.

“‘Regardless of Gaussianity, however, if the process and measurement covariances are known, then the Kalman filter is the best possible linear estimator in the minimum mean-square-error sense,’” you quoted, nearly squeaking when Izuku pressed his mouth to your hip, his curls tickling the skin of your belly. His hands gripped either side of your thighs, palms square and rough against your skin, and you tried not to shiver with the feeling.

“Um—‘Although there may be better nonlinear estimators’,” you said, then nearly jumped out of your skin when Izuku pressed his mouth to the core of you, only the strength of his grip stopping you from accidentally kicking him in surprise.

“Oh my g—uh! It—um—‘It is a common misconception perpetuated in the literature that the Kalman filter cannot be rigorously applied unless all noise processes are assumed to be Gaussian,’” you managed, before your cut off into a groan as Izuku layered a hot, sweet kiss over you, tongue dipping carefully between your folds. “Ah-–Izuku—”

Izuku petted a thumb gently over the top of your thigh to show he was listening, even as he swiped his tongue over you again, a long, firm stroke that had your thighs flexing in his hold. He laved over your clit, sucking ever so slightly, and your grip almost tore the edge of your textbooks as it tightened.

“Keep going,” he urged briefly, then did it again, punching a groan out of you.

“Extensions—oh—‘Extensions and generalizations of the method have also been developed, such as the extended Kalman filter and the unscented Kalman filter which work on nonlinear systems,’” you read on, voice shooting up nearly into a squeal when two of Izuku’s long, firm fingers pressed into you, as his mouth moved over you again.

“Ah! Oh my god—the—um, the basis—-” you said, breath growing short. Izuku’s fingers unerringly found the spot inside you that made you twist in his grip with the ease of long practice, and his jaw worked as he kissed you so shockingly filthily. You could feel something already starting to build up behind your navel, a fluttery lightness, an insatiable insistence on more.

“‘The basis a hidden Markov model—oh, fuck—such that the state space of the latent variables is continuous and all latent and observed variables have–ah!--Gaussian distributions,’’’ you recited, your voice tripping up further into a register that sounded more like begging than reading.

Izuku’s fingers worked you, long and thick and perfect inside you, as his tongue drew unrelenting circles around your clit. Stars seemed to spark in your vision, and your eyes squeezed shut, losing your place on the page as your hips flexed into his face. You felt suddenly very floaty and lightheaded, and not at all in a position to keep going.

Still, you tried to refocus your attention.

“‘K–Kalman filtering has been used successfully in—oh—multi-sensor fusion—ah, ah!--and distributed sensor networks–fuck, please, Izuku—to develop distributed or consensus Kalman f-filtering,’” you said, your tone nearly a cry.

Izuku groaned softly, sucking gently as his fingers curled inside you. It made your veins spark under your skin, your legs shaking in Izuku’s hands. You abandoned your grip on your book to seize the arm of the couch, clawing desperately at the fabric.

“Please, Izuku,” you cried, hips bucking towards his mouth.

The book tumbled off your stomach but you hardly noticed, gaze refocusing on the way his eyelashes fluttered as he licked you. His fingers played gently within you, a maddening press that was simultaneously too much and not enough, and his other hand came up to slide under your sweater, plucking gently at your nipple.

You lost yourself to the feeling—caught between the mind-melting curl of his fingers, the delicate suction of his mouth, and the careful pinch of your nipple. A delicious heat curled through you, waves of unbearable pleasure, and you could hear yourself babbling nonsense—garbled syllables of Izuku’s name, and every entreaty you could think of, a hundred thousands mores and oh pleases.

Izuku abandoned your nipple to pull you more firmly against him with a strong arm curled under your thigh, pressing you even harder into his mouth.

You muffled a scream in the sleeve of your sweater as he sucked you harder, tongue laving over you in loving strokes. Only his terrible strength held you down as you writhed beneath him, and then his fingers twisted in a way that had your vision whiting out—and you were suddenly thrown out over the edge of your pleasure.

Izuku licked you through it as you squirmed and begged and cried out his name, your climax seeming to last for eons.

You were panting hard when you finally slumped into the cushions of your couch, the ceiling seeming to swim in and out of focus before your eyes. When you gained enough control of your body again you looked down at Izuku, finding him watching you with a satisfied, almost shy curl to his mouth.

“You’re beautiful,” he told you, emerald gaze glittering with sincerity. “You’re so smart.”

Impossibly you felt your heart swell with even more love for him, and you seized his shoulder, dragging him up over you so you could kiss his mouth. The taste of yourself on him was embarrassing yet thrilling, and you petted a pleased hand through Izuku’s wild mess of curls as you kissed him.

“Well you are amazing,” you told him, swiping a thumb over his cheek fondly, smoothing over his freckles. A gorgeous watercolor of pink washed over his cheeks and nose at the proclamation, and you could hear his fingers flex in the cushion beside your head.

The sight of him flushed and waiting over you like another small something inside of you, like a pilot light, and you let your mouth pull into a wry grin.

“I hope you know I learned nothing though,” you said casually, your plan for your next steps already forming in your head. You let a hand trail carefully down Izuku’s flank, tracking towards his waist. “I think maybe I might need a few rounds for it to really sink in.”

Izuku’s ears went red against the green of his hair, and you felt your smile widen. “Maybe you could read it to me this time?” you asked, guiding him to roll under you, retrieving your book from the floor as you did so.

You settled yourself on the tops of Izuku’s thighs, feeling the hard press of him against your core, as you placed your textbook into his waiting hands.

Izuku’s answering smile was all the permission you needed. You directed him to start from the beginning of the chapter, and he did so in that soft, lilting tone of his you so loved. And then your fingers trailed up to the zipper at his collar.

It was time to return the favor—wholeheartedly.

REFERENCES: Kalman Filtering (Wikipedia) I took the passages our Reader recited from here because I do not actually understand Kalman filtering at all and could not organically come up with feasible text for her to read through. Sorry in advance to the author of this page lol.

[jinniejjam]

Breaking Down Walls

✎ CollegeBand!Bang Chan x nerdyAfab!Reader

✎ Nerdy College AU, Emotional, strangers to Lovers, 18+ MDNI! NSFW, Slight breeding Kink and bulge kink, creampie, cunilingus.

✎ 5,9k

✎ Synopsis: Bang Chan, the campus heartthrob, reluctantly seeks help from Y/N, a no-nonsense tutor who doesn’t trust boys like him. As late-night study sessions turn into something more, their differences blur, and unexpected feelings emerge, challenging both their walls.

A/n : hii guyss, another Chan X Nerdy again loll, i just love this trope so muchh! Enjoyy and please don't mind the typo or the grammatical error^^

— Bae

You stared at the email on your laptop screen, a sinking feeling pooling in your stomach.

Dear Y/n,

Professor Lee has recommended you for a special tutoring assignment. The student, Christopher Bang, has been struggling with his coursework and could use your expertise. We believe you are the right person for this. Thank you for your cooperation.

Best,

Academic Support Team

You groaned audibly and smacked your forehead against your desk. Christopher Bang. Everyone on campus called him “Bang Chan,” the lead singer of a campus-famous band. He was the kind of guy who was perpetually surrounded by a sea of admirers, always with an easy grin and a cocky confidence that screamed trouble.

You didn’t have time for trouble.

When Professor Lee mentioned this tutoring opportunity during class, you thought it’d be for someone serious. Someone who genuinely wanted help—not a guy who probably spent more time flirting than studying.

Still, you couldn’t exactly back out now. The professor had personally vouched for you. Besides, you needed the extra credit this gig offered. So, with a deep sigh and a firm resolution to keep things strictly professional, you emailed Chan back to arrange your first meeting.

"Tuesday, 4 PM. Library. Be on time."

It was Tuesday at 4:17 PM, and you were tapping your pen against the library table, glaring at the clock.

Of course, he’s late.

You had your laptop open, notes prepared, and a coffee you’d already drained. The quiet hum of the library did nothing to calm your irritation.

Just as you were about to send him a passive-aggressive follow-up email, you heard footsteps approaching.

“Hey! Sorry, sorry—I got caught up!”

You looked up to see him. Bang Chan, in the flesh. His dark hair was slightly messy, as if he’d just rolled out of bed, and his leather jacket was slung carelessly over his shoulder. He looked every bit the campus heartthrob you’d expected, complete with that infuriatingly charming smile.

“You’re late,” you said flatly, refusing to return his smile.

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Guilty as charged. Traffic on the way here was brutal.”

“This is a walking campus,” you shot back, raising an eyebrow.

He grinned, unbothered by your sarcasm. “Touché.”

You sighed and motioned for him to sit down. “Let’s get started. I assume you know why you’re here.”

“Enlighten me.” He plopped down across from you, leaning back in the chair with an air of relaxed confidence.

You slid a piece of paper across the table. “Your midterm grades. Let’s just say they’re not exactly... stellar.”

Chan winced as he glanced at the sheet. “Yikes.”

“Yikes indeed,” you said dryly. “If you want to pass this course, you need to take this seriously. No distractions, no excuses.”

“Got it. Serious. No distractions.” He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at you with those annoyingly pretty eyes. “But just to clarify—you’re not a distraction, right?”

Your jaw tightened, and you rolled your eyes. “We’re not here to play games, Bang.”

“Call me Chan,” he said with a wink.

You ignored him and opened your laptop. “Let’s start with last week’s lecture material.”

Despite your initial assumptions, Chan actually seemed... attentive. He took notes, asked questions, and even admitted when he didn’t understand something.

“Wait, so this formula—does it only work for linear functions, or can it apply to quadratic ones too?” he asked, frowning at his notebook.

You blinked. That was actually a decent question. “It’s primarily for linear functions, but there are variations you can use for quadratic ones. Want me to show you?”

“Please.”

As you explained, you couldn’t help but notice how focused he was. His pen tapped lightly against the notebook, and his brow furrowed in concentration. He even nodded along occasionally, muttering things like, “Okay, that makes sense now.”

It was... unexpected.

“So, do you actually want to pass this course, or are you just here because your professor made you?” you asked after a while, unable to hide your curiosity.

Chan looked up, surprised by the question. Then he smiled—this time, it wasn’t the cocky grin you’d seen earlier. It was softer, almost sheepish.

“I mean, yeah. I’ve got a lot on my plate, but I don’t want to fail. Music’s my thing, sure, but I don’t want to let my grades tank either.”

Something about his honesty caught you off guard. Maybe he wasn’t as shallow as you’d assumed.

“Well,” you said, clearing your throat, “if you keep this up, you might actually pass.”

He smirked, the cockiness returning. “Is that a compliment, tutor?”

“Don’t get used to it,” you muttered, trying—and failing—not to smile.

--

The next few sessions followed a similar pattern. You’d meet in the library, Chan would inevitably charm his way through your carefully constructed defenses, and you’d catch yourself noticing more than his academic progress.

It was frustrating.

“Okay, I think I’ve got this,” Chan said one evening, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied grin. “All thanks to my amazing tutor.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the warmth rising to your cheeks. “Flattery doesn’t get you bonus points.”

“Good thing I’m not doing it for points.”

Your pen paused mid-sentence. His voice had dipped slightly, teasing, but there was something about the way he said it—soft and genuine—that made your chest tighten.

“Focus, Chan,” you muttered, flipping to the next page of notes.

“Right. Focus,” he echoed, but you caught the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

---

The tension reached a boiling point during one particularly late session. The library was practically deserted, save for the two of you tucked away in a quiet corner.

“Okay, last problem,” you said, sliding your notebook toward him. “Solve this, and we’re done for tonight.”

Chan groaned but picked up his pen. You leaned back, watching as his brows furrowed in concentration. He tapped the pen against his lips—a habit you’d noticed—and you quickly averted your gaze, pretending to check your phone.

“How’d I do?” he asked, sliding the notebook back to you.

You scanned his work, nodding slowly. “Not bad. You’re actually starting to get the hang of this.”

“Wow. Another compliment?” he teased, leaning closer. “You’re spoiling me, tutor.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Don’t get used to it.”

But then, as you reached for your notebook, your fingers brushed against his. It was a brief, almost insignificant touch, but it sent a jolt through you.

You glanced up, and Chan was already looking at you, his eyes searching yours.

The air shifted.

For a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had fallen away, leaving just the two of you in that small, quiet corner of the library.

“You know,” he began softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “you’re a lot more fun to be around than you let on.”

Your heart thudded in your chest. “Chan—”

“Relax,” he said, leaning back with a playful grin. “I’m just messing with you. Unless... you don’t want me to stop.”

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks betrayed you, burning with heat. “Goodnight, Chan.”

As you packed up your things and left, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something between you had shifted—something you weren’t quite ready to face yet.

---

The shift came unexpectedly a week later, during a particularly bad storm. You’d just finished your last class of the day when your phone buzzed.

Chan: “Library’s closed. Raincheck?”

You sighed, staring out the window at the torrential downpour. Normally, you’d jump at the chance to stay in, but something about the thought of Chan struggling with the material alone bothered you. Before you could overthink it, you replied:

You: “Come to my dorm. Bring your notes.”

Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at your door.

“Hey,” Chan said, slightly breathless. His hair was damp from the rain, droplets clinging to his leather jacket.

“You look like a wet puppy,” you teased, stepping aside to let him in.

“And you’re as welcoming as ever,” he shot back, but there was no malice in his tone—just the easy, teasing warmth you’d come to associate with him.

As the session went on, you noticed Chan seemed... off. He was quieter than usual, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something more subdued.

“You okay?” you asked finally, setting your notebook aside.

He hesitated, then sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. “It’s just... a lot. The band, school, everything. Sometimes it feels like no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. For all his confidence, it was moments like these that reminded you he wasn’t as invincible as he seemed.

“You’re doing fine,” you said softly, surprising yourself with the sincerity in your tone. “You just need to give yourself some credit.”

Chan looked up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the unspoken tension between you thickening.

“Thanks,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You don’t have to thank me,” you said, your voice softer than you intended. “You’re doing the work. I’m just here to guide you.”

Chan gave you a small smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Still... It’s nice to hear. Sometimes, it feels like everyone only sees what they want to see, you know?”

You nodded, understanding more than you cared to admit. “Yeah. People look at me and think, ‘nerdy girl who has her life together.’ But they don’t see the rest—the doubts, the late nights wondering if I’m good enough, or if I’ll ever be more than just... this.”

Chan tilted his head, his eyes scanning your face. “Why would you think that? You’re... incredible. Smart, focused, driven—”

“Boring,” you interrupted with a bitter laugh.

“No.” His tone was firm, and the intensity in his gaze made your breath catch. “You’re anything but boring.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, pressing against your chest.

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Instead, you looked away, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your notebook. “You don’t mean that. You’re just saying it because... well, that’s what guys like you do.”

“Guys like me?” Chan repeated, his voice laced with curiosity.

“You know.” You waved a hand vaguely. “The popular, charismatic type. Always knowing exactly what to say to get what you want.”

His expression softened, and he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “You’ve got me all wrong.”

You glanced at him, skepticism evident in your eyes. “Do I?”

“Yeah,” he said simply. “You think I have it all figured out, but most days, I’m just trying to keep my head above water. And if I seem like I know what to say, it’s only because I’ve spent my whole life trying to make people happy. It’s exhausting.”

His honesty caught you off guard, and for the first time, you saw him—really saw him—as more than just the confident, untouchable guy everyone adored.

“I didn’t know you felt that way,” you admitted quietly.

“Not many people do.” He smiled faintly. “But I feel like... I can be real with you. Like I don’t have to put on a show.”

Something shifted in your chest, a warmth spreading through you that you hadn’t expected.

“Same,” you murmured. “I don’t know why, but... you make me feel like I can let my guard down, too. It’s scary.”

“Why?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Because... I’ve spent so long convincing myself that people like you and me don’t mix.”

Chan reached out then, his hand covering yours. The gesture was gentle, tentative, as if he was giving you the chance to pull away. But you didn’t.

“Maybe we’re not so different,” he said softly. “And maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”

You looked at him, your breath hitching as his thumb brushed against the back of your hand.

“Chan—”

Before you could finish, he leaned in, his face inches from yours. His eyes searched yours, asking a silent question.

When you didn’t pull away, he closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was hesitant at first—testing the waters—but quickly deepened as you responded.

Your hands moved almost instinctively, one tangling in his damp hair while the other rested against his chest. His heart was racing, beating in time with yours as the kiss grew hungrier.

Chan pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. “Is this okay?” he whispered, his breath warm against your lips.

“Yes,” you murmured, your voice trembling with the intensity of the moment.

That was all the encouragement he needed. His lips found yours again, more urgent this time, and you felt yourself melting into him.

The books and papers scattered across the table were long forgotten as he pulled you closer, his hands resting on your waist, anchoring you to him.

The storm outside raged on, but inside, everything felt still—like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured against your lips, his voice raw with emotion.

Your heart swelled at his words, and you found yourself smiling despite the heat of the moment. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Chan chuckled, the sound vibrating against your skin as he pressed kisses along your jawline, trailing down to the sensitive spot just below your ear, a shiver ran through you, and you tightened your grip on him, pulling him impossibly closer, for the first time, you let yourself stop overthinking. You stopped doubting his intentions, stopped worrying about what this meant. In that moment, it was just you and him, tangled together in a whirlwind of affection and desire, and it felt... right.

The intensity between you grew, as the room seemed to shrink, leaving just the two of you in your shared bubble. Chan's hands trailed gently along your waist, his touch firm but careful, like he was afraid you might dissapear if he pressed too hard.

"Wait," you murmured suddenly, pulling back slightly.

Chan froze immediately, his hands dropping to his sides, his breathing was ragged, his lips slightly swollen from the kiss. "What's wrong?" He asked softly, concern flickering in his eyes.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "I just... i need to know this isn't just a game for you."

He blinked, clearly caught off guard by your question. "What? No. It's not a game. Why would you think that?"

You shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "Because guys like you—"

"Stop saying that," he interupted, his tone gentle but firm, he gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushed lightly in your cheek "I'm not some stereotype, neither are you. I know i've got reputation but that's not who i am—not when im with you."

His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity. Slowly, you looked up, meeting his gaze. There was no hint of the cocky playfulness that he usually do. Instead, his eyes were full of something deeper, Something real.

"I like you," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not just for this. For everything. The way you so passionate about what you do, the way you don't take anyone's crap, the way you challenge me to better."

Your chest tightened at his confession, a warmth spreading through you that felt both terrifying and exhilarating.

"I like you, too," you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them, seeing him in that vulnerable state make your heart weak.

Chan's lips curved into a soft smile. "Good. Then let me prove it to you."

Before you could even respond, he kissed you again—this time slower, more deliberate. It wasn't just about the heat or the tension, it was about connection, it was about trust.

As the kiss deepened, you found yourself letting go of every lingering doubt. Your hands moved to his shoulders, pulling him closer, and he responded by wraping his arms securely around your waist.

The storm outside seemed to mirror the intensity between you, thunder rumbling in the distance as the rain pounded against the window.

Chan's hands slip up your sides, his touch leaving a trail of heat in it's wake. His lips moved from yours to your neck, pressing soft, open mouthed kisses along your skin, sucking the skin under your colarbone untill it turn purple, marking you as his.

"Chan," you breathed, your voice barely audible above the sound of your own heartbeat. he reached for the hem of your sweater, his hands firm as he yanked it off with sudden force, sending it flying across the room. The fabric brushed your skin before it landed, discarded in the corner.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with desire but still full of that same tenderness "Tell me if it's too much," he said, his voice husky but laced with care.

"It's not," you assured him, your fingers tangling in his hair. "Its perfect."

The words seems to spur him on, and he captured your lips again, his kisses grow hungry.

Before you knew it, you were pressed against the edge of the desk, the paper and books scattered around the desk now laying on the floor. He trail kisses from your neck down to your clothed breasts, his fingers brushing against the plush skin, squeezing your tits with his big hands.

Your breath hitched at the contact, and he paused, his gaze meeting yours. "Is this okay?" He asked again, his voice steady despite the beat between you.

"Yes," you whispered, your cheek flushing.

He continue to assault your tits, yanking the bra off to suck on your right nipple, making you let out a loud moan from the feeling of his warm tongue swirling around your perked nipple, he let go of your right nipple to lick and play with your other nipple, giving it the same service, making you squeze his shoulder from the sensation.

His hand trail your curve and gripping your waist, he let go of your nipple with a pop, he smilled—a soft, almost shy smile that made your heart flutter— he leaned in to kiss you again.

His hands were still on your waist, his grip firm as he guided you to stand, before you could react, he was lifting you effortlesly, the next thing you knew, you were perched on the edge of the desk the cool surface hitting the back of your thigh sending a shiver down your spine.

He stepped closer, his breath hot against your ear as his hands brushed the side of your body, pulling you in with a controlled intensity. His fingers traced the curve of your hips, lips still attached to yours— his tongue slipped in to your mouth—guiding you closer until you were flush against him, the proximity sending a wave of heat through you.

He pulled back slightly from the kiss, "Look at me," he murmured, his voice low and commanding but tinged with something softer, something you couldn't quite place. You met his gaze, your breath hitching as he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Spread your leg for me baby."

Chan’s eyes flickered with something dark and unreadable as he waited, giving you a moment to decide. The tension in the air was almost unbearable, and the quiet hum of the room felt louder than anything.

You could feel the heat between you two growing, the closeness undeniable as his fingers lightly traced the inside of your thighs, his touch a contrast to the urgency in his eyes. Slowly, you shifted, obeying the unspoken command, spreading your legs just enough for him to move closer.

He leaned in, his breath fanning over your lips, but he didn’t kiss you right away. Instead, his hand found its way to your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his, searching your eyes for something—permission, reassurance, understanding. His thumb brushed over your lower lip, his gaze softening for a brief moment.

“You’re sure?” His voice was barely a whisper, the weight of his question settling between you, the intensity in his eyes matching the tension in your body. His hand was still on your thigh, but there was something so much deeper in his touch, as if he was waiting for you to guide him, to tell him you were ready.

You nodded, your voice caught in your throat. You didn’t need words anymore. The pull between you two was magnetic, and you knew that despite the hesitation in your chest, there was no turning back.

He smiled softly, his lips brushing against yours for a brief moment, the kiss slow, tender, before his lips parted from yours, trailing down to your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, sending shivers through you. As his hands slid further up your body, his movements were deliberate, almost teasing, drawing out the anticipation.

He move his hand to cupped your aching core, "So wet already, hm? So eager aren't we?" Your heart pounded louder now, the room seeming to close in around you. Every touch, every breath felt amplified as you finally let yourself sink into the moment, unable to resist the pull of everything that had been building between you.

He paused again, his gaze meeting yours, that soft, unspoken understanding passing between you two. And then, as if to confirm the depth of what was happening, he murmured, “I’ve wanted this... wanted you... for so long, you have no idea what you've done to me" he said with a hoarsh groan falling from his lips, while his hand still drawing small sircle around your bundle of nerve making you squirm and moaning mess for him.

"Mmh chan, please." You were not even sure what you were begging for, but you just need him to ruin you into a complete mess with his touch.

He chuckled, low and deep, a sound that sent shivers down your spine making the wet spot on your panties even more visible.

Chan didn't stop swirling your clit watching you squirming under his touch, chasing your pleasure like a cat in a heat.

"Sshh sshh, patient kitten, patient." He said, stopping his finger movement on you, leaving you whining in the lost of contact. But not too long after, Chan lowered his height, pushing your knees to spread your leg even wider for him, displaying your damp panties.

You moan to the sight, him kneeling between your leg, spreading you open like that was never on your bingo card. Chan look up to you, drawing a small sircle on your inner thigh, asking for your consent once again, you nodded eagerly, you already so wet it literally drenched. "Please, Chan" you whine, feeling so desperate for his touch.

He chuckled, seeing you so desperate like this is so cute but also turning him on, Chan hook his finger to move your drenched panties to the side, displaying your glistening pussy clenching around nothing. He mutter "Fuck—" from the sight, "You're leaking baby, holy shit" your pussy is so wet—drench even— he bet he could slide right in right then and there, but he didn't want to rush, he wants to take this moment slowly, savoring every inch of your body, worshiping it, he wants to make love to you.

He began to run his finger up and down your slit, teasing the clit with his thumb, brushing it slowly making squelching noise from how wet you were. "You hear that baby?" He said, looking up to watch your fucked out expression, lips swollen from how much you bite it to muffle your sound, eyes looking down at him, you look so pretty like this—he thought.

Seeing you enjoying his action, Bang Chan started to get bold, he lick a fat stripe along your fold making you let out the most pornographic sound that you don't even know you could. "Ahhh Chanh fuck" eyes rolling back to the back of your head, the feeling of his warm tongue on your pussy is top notch, you never feel this good before. He continue his action, licking your cunt skillfully leaving you breathy and a moaning mess, hand fall to his head, gripping his hair for the overwhelming pleasure, that sent a shiver down his spine, the sound that u made is enough to make him rock hard and trying so hard not to bust in his pants.

"Fuck baby, keep moaning my name like that mmhh you taste so sweet" he said while giving your clit a kitten lick, making you feel a knot bubbling in your lower belly, a strange feeling that you've never experience before.

Your moan getting louder in each flick of his tongue, Chan knew that you were so close, he try to elevate the pleasure, he insert 2 finger into your hole, making you scream and tug his hair harder, the painfull stings on his scalp sending a rush right in to his throbing cock making him moan onto your pussy, the humm create a buzz who made you clench on his digit, making the knot inside your belly tighten, you are so close.

"Chanh i–i nghh fuck" the words die in your throat, he chuckle, quicken his finger pace, pumping his finger into you faster, curling it in the right spot where you can see the star.

"Cum princess, let go, cum on my mouth like a good girl you are" he keep hitting that certain spot with an unbelievably quick pace, making you break and cum on his mouth, your orgasm washes over like a tsunami, leaving you breathless from the intense orgasm you just had.

Chan sit up from his position, licking his lips clean, your wetness spreading all over his chin, the sight is blissful making you blush so hard, heat rushing up to your cheeks seeing him covered in your cum.

His smirk grew wider as he leaned in, his fingers sliding down to your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “You’re blushing, darling,” he teased, his voice low and smooth, dripping with mischief. “Did I make you shy, or was it the way you screamed my name?”

Your breath caught in your throat, his words sending a wave of heat rushing through your entire body. You tried to look away, but he caught you, gently pressing his forehead to yours. His scent enveloped you—warm, intoxicating, and entirely him.

“Don’t hide from me now,” he whispered, his nose brushing against yours. “I want to see every bit of you like this. All messy, all mine.”

His lips found the corner of your mouth, pressing a feather-light kiss that sent sparks racing through you. Then another kiss, softer, right below your jaw. Each touch was deliberate, leaving you breathless and clinging to his shoulders for balance.

“Chan,” you finally managed to whisper, your voice shaky but laced with yearning.

He hummed against your skin, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with you, "Say it again," he murmured, his thumb tracing your lower lip. His gaze was dark, filled with something unspoken yet undeniable.

Your lips parted, and before you could even utter another word, his mouth was on yours— hungry, claiming, leaving no room for hesitation. His hand reaching to the waistband of your panties, sliding it down to your ankle, leaving you bare for him, the cold air hitting your core sent a shiver all over your body, making you gasp from the contact. His hands sliding back to your waist, pulling you flush against him, grinding his rock hard cock on your bare pussy.

The contact drew a chorus of moans from both of you, the raw pleasure sparking between your bodies like fire. “You feel that, baby?” Chan groaned, his voice thick and ragged, hips grinding against you with deliberate force. “Fuck… look what you do to me.”

His lips parted, his breath shallow and uneven as he took in the sight of you beneath him, flushed and needy. It was enough to snap the last thread of his patience. Without wasting another second, his hands moved with purpose, fingers fumbling slightly as he unbuckled his belt. The sharp clink echoed in the heated air, sending a thrill down your spine.

His gaze never left you, dark and full of promise, as he freed himself, his cock springing to life in his hand. “I can’t wait any longer, can i baby?” he murmured, the desperation in his tone making your heart race but the way he still asking for your consent is making you melt, you nod eagerly, muttering a soft "Please," that makes Chan groaning in return.

Your breath hitched as his hand returned to your waist, steadying you as the tip of his cock brushed against your entrance. The sensation sent a jolt of electricity through you, and your fingers instinctively gripped his shoulders, holding on for dear life.

“Relax, baby,” Chan murmured, his voice softer now but no less commanding. “I’ve got you.”

Slowly, he pushed forward, the stretch making you gasp, your body adjusting to the delicious intrusion. His low groan vibrated against your skin as he buried himself inside you inch by inch, his head falling to the crook of your neck.

“You feel so perfect,” he whispered, his voice shaking with restraint. “So tight… so warm… just for me.”

Your nails dug into his back, your mind hazy with pleasure as he finally stilled, letting you catch your breath. He pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder, his hands stroking your sides soothingly, grounding you in the moment.

“Tell me how you feel,” he urged, his lips brushing against your ear.

You couldn’t find the words, overwhelmed by the fullness and the way your bodies seemed to meld together. Instead, you let out a shaky moan, tilting your hips slightly in response. That was all the encouragement he needed.

Chan began to move, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back in, slow and deep. The sensation was maddening, each roll of his hips perfectly measured to drive you wild. He set a pace that was both tender and commanding, as though he wanted to savor every second while still unraveling you completely.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice rough but filled with affection. You opened your eyes, meeting his intense gaze. The way he looked at you—with unbridled desire and something much deeper—made your heart skip a beat.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, punctuating his words with a deep thrust that left you gasping. "And i'm going to show you exactly what that means."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, the possessiveness in his tone making your core tighten around him. Chan groaned at the feeling, his control slipping as he snapped his hips harder, pulling a cry from your lips.

“That’s it,” he rasped, his hands gripping your hips as if anchoring himself. “You’re taking me so well, baby. So good for me.”

Each thrust seemed to claim you further, his movements growing more desperate as your moans filled the room. The sound of your bodies meeting was intoxicating, mixing with the broken gasps and groans that spilled freely from both of you.

“Chan, please,” you whimpered, your body trembling under his relentless rhythm.

“Please what, baby?” he teased, though his voice was strained, his forehead damp with sweat. He slowed his pace just enough to drive you insane, his cock dragging against your most sensitive spots with every deliberate stroke.

“Faster,” you pleaded, your nails digging into his arms. “Don’t stop.”

His smirk returned, though it was softer now, his lips brushing against yours in a fleeting kiss. “Anything for you,” he murmured.

With that, he adjusted his grip, pulling your legs higher around his waist as he slammed into you, deeper and harder than before. The angle was devastating, and you cried out, your body arching into him as pleasure coiled tight in your stomach.

“That’s my girl,” he groaned, his voice rough and full of pride. “I can feel you, baby. You’re so close, aren’t you?”

You nodded frantically, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. His lips brushed your ear as he whispered, “You’re gonna take everything I give you, aren’t you? Let me fill you up, baby. Let me make you mine in every way.”

The heat pooling in your stomach surged at his words, the thought pushing you even closer to the edge.

“Yes,” you whimpered, your voice trembling. “I’m yours. Always.”

“That’s right,” he growled, his pace quickening, each thrust hitting deeper. “Gonna fill you up so good. Gonna make sure you feel me for days.” he said, and his palm pressing to the buldge visible on your lower belly, where his cock going in and out.

The tension inside you snapped with his words, a wave of ecstasy crashing over you as your walls clenched around him. You cried out his name, your body trembling as pleasure overwhelmed you.

Chan cursed under his breath, his hips stuttering as your release pulled him over the edge. He buried himself deep with a guttural groan, his warmth spilling into you as he held you close, his grip on your hips unrelenting.

“Fuck,” he panted, his forehead pressing against yours as he caught his breath. “You’re perfect. You were made for me, baby.”

As the intensity of the moment passed, the room fell into a quieter, more peaceful rhythm. Chan pulled out slowly, carefully adjusting you so that you were no longer perched on the desk but supported against him, still breathing heavily. His hands gently cupped your face, his touch tender and reassuring.

“Hey, baby, are you okay?” His voice was soft, the previous urgency replaced by a genuine concern. His eyes searched yours, his gaze warm and comforting.

You nodded, still catching your breath, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’m okay,” you whispered, your hands gently brushing his chest as you let your head rest against him.

Chan let out a breath of relief, his hand sliding down to your back as he pulled you closer to him, his warmth grounding you. He held you against him, his lips brushing your forehead in a soft kiss.

“You were amazing,” he murmured, his voice thick with affection. “I’ve got you, alright? Just breathe, take your time.”

His hands continued to move gently over your skin, tracing circles along your back and shoulders as if he were trying to erase any tension that might have lingered.

After a few moments, you met his gaze again, your heart still racing but feeling safe and cherished in his arms. “Thank you,” you said softly, your voice trembling just a little. “For being so gentle…”

He smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “Anything for you, baby."

Chan leaned in and kissed you again, slow and tender this time, his lips soft against yours. When he pulled back, he continued to hold you close, his hands never leaving your body.

“You’re perfect," he said, giving your lips a light peck.

The air was still heavy with the aftermath, but now it felt like a calming silence, the love and care in his words washing over you like a warm tide. You stayed close, letting the quiet moments stretch out between you, savoring the feeling of his presence.

[moonlightwritingf1]

Unspoken Desires | LN4

🎀 summary ━━━━━━━ Lando and Y/N had been friends for some time, having met through mutual friends. Lando had been attracted to Y/N from the moment they met, and his admiration for her only grew over time—particularly for her breasts. He thought no one knew about his fixation, but Y/N had figured it out. Once she realized Lando's obsession, she started wearing more revealing tops whenever she knew they would be in the same place. One night, when they ended up alone, Y/N began teasing Lando with her breasts. It was then that she confessed she knew about his attraction.

🎀 pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

🎀 word count ━━━━━━━ 2.8k

🎀 warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

Lando shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to avert his gaze as Y/N walked into the room. She had chosen one of those tops today—the kind that seemed designed to test the limits of modesty. The fabric clung to her curves, leaving little to the imagination, and he could feel his pulse quicken as his eyes instinctively drifted downward.

Her boobs. He swallowed hard, cursing himself for being so obvious. Focus, Lando. Just focus. But it was no use. Every time she moved, the material stretched, teasing him with glimpses of what lay beneath. He wondered if she noticed his ogling. Surely not. He prided himself on being discreet, on making sure his admiration stayed hidden behind a veil of casual indifference.

Y/N sat down across from him, crossing her legs in a way that made the hem of her skirt ride up just enough to keep him guessing. "Hey," she said, her voice smooth and inviting. "You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind."

"Uh, nothing," he stammered, quickly glancing away. "Just… just thinking about work, I guess."

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a sly smile. "Work? Really? Because you’ve been staring at my chest for the past five minutes."

His face flushed instantly. "What? No! I wasn’t—"

Y/N leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table. The movement caused her top to dip slightly, revealing just enough to make his breath hitch. "Relax," she said, her tone light but laced with something deeper. "It’s not a crime to appreciate a good pair of… assets."

Lando felt his throat go dry. Was she messing with him? Testing him? Or was she really this nonchalant about it? Either way, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Her confidence was intoxicating, and the way she toyed with him made it impossible to think straight.

"I… uh… I wasn’t staring," he mumbled, though the words lacked any real conviction.

She chuckled softly, leaning back in her chair. "Sure you weren’t. And I suppose you haven’t spent every night since we met fantasizing about them either?"

His jaw dropped. "How—how do you know that?"

Y/N’s smile widened, and she tilted her head ever so slightly. "Let’s just say I’m observant. And you’re not exactly subtle, Lando."

He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, he felt heat rising to his cheeks, his heart pounding in his chest. She knew. Somehow, she knew. And instead of being freaked out or angry, she was… playful. Teasing.

"Listen," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "It’s okay. You don’t have to hide it anymore."

Lando blinked, unsure if he was hearing her right. "I don’t?"

"No," she replied, her tone confident yet inviting. "In fact, I kinda like it. It means you’re paying attention."

Her words sent a jolt through him, and he felt his resolve slipping. There was something in her demeanor, in the way she held herself, that made him want to lean in, to close the space between them. But he hesitated, unsure of how far she was willing to take this.

"Look," she continued, her hand reaching out to gently brush against his. "Why don’t we stop pretending? You want me, and I… well, I want you too."

Her admission hung in the air between them, heavy and electric. Lando’s mind raced. This was insane. They were friends. They had always been friends. But now, with her so close, her touch so warm, the lines blurred.

"Y/N," he began, his voice shaky. "Are you sure about this?"

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she stood up and rounded the table, her movements slow and deliberate. When she reached him, she placed a hand on his shoulder, her fingers tracing small circles against his skin. "Positive," she murmured, her breath hot against his ear.

Lando shivered at her nearness, his body responding instinctively. He wanted to reach out, to touch her, but he was afraid—afraid of ruining whatever this was, afraid of pushing too far.

"Don’t overthink it," she whispered, her lips brushing against his earlobe. "Just let yourself feel."

And then, without warning, she stepped back slightly and pulled her top over her head, tossing it aside. Her breasts were exposed now, ripe and full, the pale curve of her nipples begging to be touched. Lando’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes fixated on her form.

"Y/N…" he muttered, his voice barely audible.

She smiled again, stepping closer until her hips were pressed against his lap. "Go ahead," she urged, her hands moving to guide his own. "Touch them. Adore them. Let me feel how much you’ve wanted this."

Y/N’s fingers curled around Lando’s wrists, her grip firm yet gentle, guiding his hands toward her breasts. His palms were sweaty, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst through his chest. He wanted to pull away, to tell her he couldn’t do this, but the weight of her confidence and the undeniable thrill of finally being allowed to touch her paralyzed him.

Her skin was so soft.

His fingertips brushed against the underside of her breast, and she let out a small, breathy moan that sent a shiver down his spine. She didn’t stop him, didn’t scold him for moving too slowly. Instead, she leaned into his touch, her head tilting slightly as if she were savoring the sensation.

“Lando…” she murmured, her voice low and teasing. “You’ve been dreaming about this for so long, haven’t you? Don’t hold back now.”

He swallowed hard, his throat dry, and nodded dumbly. Her nipple grazed against his palm, and he almost jerked his hand away in shock. But she tightened her grip on his wrist, anchoring him in place.

“That’s it,” she whispered, her lips curling into a sly smile. “Feel how perfect they are. Tell me what you think.”

His mouth moved, but no words came out. All he could do was stare at her chest, at the way her breasts jiggled ever so slightly with every movement, at the rosy tips that seemed to perk up under his hesitant touch. He didn’t know what to say, how to articulate the chaos of emotions swirling inside him. Desire, guilt, disbelief—it all crashed together in his mind, making it impossible to form coherent thoughts.

“I-I don’t know what to say,” he stammered finally, his voice cracking.

She chuckled softly, a sound that was both comforting and intoxicating. “You don’t have to say anything,” she said, her tone warm and inviting. “Just show me how much you’ve wanted this. Show me how much you’ve thought about my body when you’re alone.”

Her words were a dare, a challenge, and Lando found himself unable to resist. With a quiet groan, he cupped her breast fully in his hand, his fingers tightening instinctively as if afraid she might slip away. The feel of her weight in his palm was surreal, something he had fantasized about countless times but never dared to believe could be real.

She was real.

He could feel the heat radiating from her skin, the rapid flutter of her heartbeat as it pressed against his palm. And then there was the taste of her name on his tongue, the way it rolled out of his mouth as if it belonged there.

“Y/N…” he breathed, his voice thick with emotion.

She rewarded him with another soft moan, her eyes fluttering closed as she pressed herself more firmly against his hand. “Yes, that’s it,” she whispered, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “Touch me, Lando. Let me feel how much you’ve wanted this.”

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep his composure. Every stroke of his fingers against her skin felt like a spark igniting aflame within him. His other hand rose tentatively, mirroring the movements of the first, until both of her breasts were cradled in his palms. He kneaded them gently at first, marveling at their softness, their weight, the way they filled his hands perfectly.

And then, without warning, his thumbs flicked over her nipples, catching them between his fingers and rolling them teasingly. Y/N arched her back immediately, her head falling backward as a gasp escaped her lips.

“Oh…” she cried out, her voice trembling with desire. “Lando, yes… just like that.”

He could feel her pulse quickening beneath his fingertips, her body reacting to his touch in a way that made his own arousal impossible to ignore. His cock twitched against the fabric of his pants, aching for release, but he couldn’t tear his focus away from the woman in front of him.

Her breasts were even more magnificent up close, their pale perfection streaked with the faintest blush of pink. He marveled at the way her nipples hardened under his touch, the way they seemed to beg for more attention. And when his fingers circled them again, pressing lightly before releasing, she whimpered softly, her hips shifting against him.

“Don’t stop,” she pleaded, her voice breathless and urgent. “Please, Lando… I need more.”

Her desperation sent a surge of triumph coursing through him. For so long, he had been the one craving, the one yearning for her attention. Now, she was the one begging, and the power of it was intoxicating.

With renewed confidence, he changed his technique, sliding his hands up to cup her breasts more firmly. His thumbs dragged slowly across her nipples, teasing them until they stood proudly, begging for more. Y/N’s moans grew louder, her hands gripping his shoulders for support as she pressed herself closer to him.

“Harder,” she demanded, her voice breaking slightly. “Touch me harder, Lando. I want to feel how much you’ve wanted this.”

Her words were a command, and Lando obeyed without hesitation. He pinched her nipples between his fingers, twisting them gently but firmly, eliciting a sharp gasp from her lips. She bucked her hips against his lap, grinding against him in a way that left no doubt about her arousal.

“Ah! Yes!” she cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders. “God, Lando… I knew you had it in you.”

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up. His own need was growing unbearable, his cock straining against his zipper as he continued to explore her body. Each moan, each shudder of her body against his, only served to fuel his desire further.

“Y/N…” he muttered again, his voice hoarse with longing. “I can’t… I can’t take much more of this.”

She opened her eyes, her gaze smoldering as she looked down at him. “Then don’t,” she said simply, her tone daring him to push further. “Take what you want, Lando. Stop holding back.”

Y/N smirked, her eyes locking onto his as she slowly slid off the couch, her movements deliberate and confident. She knew exactly what she was doing. Lando watched her with wide eyes, his breath hitching as she dropped to her knees in front of him, her face level with his crotch. The air between them thickened, charged with unspoken desire that neither could deny any longer.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, though there was no real question behind it. He knew exactly what she was doing.

“What do you think I’m doing?” she replied, her tone playful but laced with something deeper—something that made his heart pound harder in his chest.

Her lips curled into a wicked smile as she reached for the zipper of his jeans, her fingers brushing against his skin as she pulled it down slowly, deliberately. His cock twitched at the sensation, already hard and pressing against the fabric of his boxers. Y/N hummed softly, a sound that sent shivers down his spine, as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his pants and tugged them down just enough to free his aching erection.

“You’re so eager,” she murmured, her voice low and teasing as she wrapped her hand around his length, giving it a slow, firm stroke. “I can feel how badly you want this.”

Lando groaned, his head falling back against the couch as her touch sent waves of pleasure coursing through him. “God, Y/N…” he muttered, his voice strangled as he tried to hold himself together. “You have no idea.”

She laughed softly, a sound that made his stomach tighten with need. “Oh, I think I do,” she said, her tone dripping with confidence. “I think I know exactly how much you’ve been dreaming about this.”

Before he could respond, she leaned forward, her lips brushing against the tip of his cock, teasing him mercilessly. Lando’s hips jerked involuntarily, his hands fisting in the fabric of the couch as he fought to stay still. “Please…” he begged, his voice cracking. “Don’t tease me like this.”

“Hmm, but I thought you liked it when I tease you,” she said, looking up at him through her lashes as she took him into her mouth, her warm, wet tongue swirling around the head of his dick before sliding down his length.

Lando groaned loudly, his body arching off the couch as her mouth worked its magic on him. She sucked gently at first, her lips tight around him as she bobbed her head up and down, taking him deeper with each movement. Her hair fell around her face like a curtain, framing her in a way that made her look even more irresistible. He couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“Fuck, Y/N…” he gasped, his fingers tangling in her hair as he tried to steady himself. “You’re killing me…”

She pulled off him with a pop, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she looked up at him. “Am I now?” she teased, running her tongue along her lips as if savoring the taste of him. “Well, maybe I don’t want to kill you just yet.”

With that, she shifted her position, kneeling up slightly as she cupped her breasts in her hands, pushing them together to create a perfect shelf for his cock. Lando’s eyes widened as he realized what she intended to do, his breath catching in his throat as she guided the tip of his dick between her cleavage.

“Do you like that?” she asked, her voice sultry as she began to rock her shoulders, using her tits to fuck him. “Do you like feeling my boobs wrapped around your cock?”

“Yes,” he choked out, his hands gripping the edge of the couch as he struggled to stay upright. “God, yes…”

Y/N continued to move, her breasts slick with the saliva from her mouth as she pressed them tightly around him, squeezing him with each thrust. Lando’s vision blurred with pleasure, his whole body trembling as she worked him over, driving him closer and closer to the edge.

“You’re so good at this,” he managed to pant, his voice hoarse with need. “I can’t believe you’re doing this for me…”

She grinned wickedly, her eyes locking onto his as she quickened her pace, her tits bouncing with every movement. “Believe it,” she said, her tone sharp and commanding. “And don’t you dare come until I tell you to.”

Lando groaned, his head falling back again as he tried to obey her command, but it was nearly impossible. Her tits felt so good around him, so warm and soft and tight, and the way she moved only made it worse. He could feel the pressure building in his balls, his orgasm threatening to spill over at any moment.

“Y/N…” he warned, his voice strained as he opened his eyes to look at her. “I don’t think I can hold back much longer.”

She smirked, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “Good,” she said simply, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Because I want you to feel every second of this.”

With that, she tightened her grip on her breasts, forcing them even closer together around his shaft as she rocked her hips, her movements becoming more erratic as she pushed him toward the edge. Lando’s breath came in short, desperate gasps, his body tensing as he felt the climax begin to build.

“I’m close,” he admitted, his voice barely audible as he struggled to hold on. “So close…”

Y/N didn’t say anything, just kept moving, her eyes never leaving his as she drove him closer and closer to the brink. And then, finally, he couldn’t hold back any longer. With a loud groan, Lando came, his release spilling out over her breasts as she continued to milk him until every last drop was gone.

Panting, he collapsed back against the couch, his body limp and spent as he stared up at the ceiling, trying to catch his breath. Y/N, meanwhile, sat back on her heels, a triumphant smile playing on her lips as she looked down at him.

“Told you I knew what I was doing,” she said, her tone smug but undeniably sexy.

Lando couldn’t help but laugh weakly, his body still buzzing with pleasure. “Yeah,” he agreed, his voice rough. “You definitely did.”

[chewingbatmanlikeasqueakytoy]

It was a safety switch

So I'm actually obsessed with the idea that the "on" button Danny hit going into the portal wasn't actually an on button like one you get in a computer.

In basically any legally compliant workspace where I am (and I think in the western world broadly) you get these big red EMERGENCY STOP buttons that tend to be every few feet and on every machine so if something goes wrong people don't have to run far to make what ever's going wrong stop going wrong

Now to me that thing looks pretty much exactly like this thing

With a different layout, but the big red button is the subject of interest

Jack and Maddie seem to have cartoon consistency in their lab safety protocols, which checks out honestly given that's what they are, but It makes sense to me that they didn't so much put the ON button on the inside of the portal as that they flipped the power off to finish the final checks on the portal and then

Forgot About The Emergency Stop

(Incase people dont know, emergency stop buttons stop all the machinery it's attatched to. This can be anything from Only One Machine to literally an entire floor or building depending on the levels of "oh shit everything needs to stop RIGHT NOW." They're usually 'released' at a seperate point which can be anything from the keys in the panel above to a seperate button/keypad. Or, like the ones we had in our high school, the original red button that was pushed but you had to twist it to get it to pop back up. Kind of like a weird child lock)

So I'm proposing that the Fenton Parents, instead of being idiots in their planning and putting the on switch somewhere insane when they were drawing the schematics, actually built in a safety feature they forgot they tripped

Essentially, the Fenton parents were EXTRA safe in their lab and it half killed Danny

[fruvittea]

"he's just a gryffindor"

💌﹒→﹒gryffindor!jungwon x hufflepuff!reader (harry potter au) ﹒ ﹒ ♪

— genre: fantasy, slow burn, romance

— word count: 3.1k+

— warnings? none;  reader is afab + mention of yunjin from le serrafim

— synopsis: At Hogwarts, reader, a Hufflepuff student, finds herself drawn to Jungwon, a Gryffindor, during a Care of Magical Creatures class where they’re paired to care for Nifflers. And for some reason Jungwon just stays in her life, finding her in the library or even in the dining hall. As the Yule Ball nears, Jungwon invites reader to the dance. During the night of the Yule Ball the two enjoy each other’s company as their relationship blossoms into something more.

— author's note: gosh i just love making fics with jungwon in any school setting LOL, they always turn out so cute >_< anyways enjoy !! and if you have any requests feel free to put it in my inbox :)

want to read more? check out fruvittea's enhypen masterlist: click here !!

The crisp autumn air swept through the open ground of Hogwarts, rustling the golden and scarlet leaves scattered around the stone pathways. You adjusted your scarf, tucking it tighter against the wind as you made your way to the Care of Magical Creatures paddock. Having your common room close to the kitchens made it much more difficult to get to your classes all the way across campus. And now you were running late. Today’s lesson was a joint class with Gryffindors, a combination that usually promised chaos. You weren’t sure what was worse—the rambunctious Gryffindors or the Nifflers Professor Hagrid had promised would make an appearance.

In the nick of time you reached the paddock, Hargid hadn’t rounded up the class yet. AS you fixed your uniforms you spotted the telltale messy black hair of Yang Jungwon, Gryffindor’s golden boy. He was standing near a group of his housemates, grinning widely as they laughed at something he’d said. You tried not to look too long, but it was difficult not to notice him. He had a natural charisma that seemed to draw everyone in, his laughter infections even from a distance. 

“All right, settle down, everyone,” Hagrid called, his booming voice cutting through the chatter. “We’ve got a special test today. You’ll be working in pairs to care for a Niffler. They’re cheeky little devils, so you’ll need to keep an eye on ‘em.”

You swallowed nervously. Working in pairs meant you’d be stuck with a Gryffindor for the next hour, and knowing your luck, it wouldn’t be one of the quieter ones.

“Let’s pair up then!” Hagrid announced, waving his massive hand to gesture for the students to group together. 

You stood there watching as classmates mingled and sat down together. you were unsure of who to approach, when a familiar voice piped up behind you. “Looks like we’re partners.”

Turning around you found yourself face-to-face with Jungwon. His dark eyes sparkled with amusement, and his scarf was loosely draped around his neck, the crimson and gold clashing beautifully against his warm complexion. 

“Oh. Okay,” you managed, your voice quieter than you intended. “Let’s do this, then.” 

He grinned adjusting his scarf. “Try to keep up, Hufflepuff. Nifflers aren’t exactly known for being cooperative.”

You bristled at his teasing tone but bit back a retort. Instead, you focused on the small, mischievous created that Hargid placed in your hands. the Niffler’s tiny class dug into your glove as it sniffled around, its beady eyes darting towards Jungwon’s pocket. 

“Careful,” you warned, shifting the Niffler slightly. “It’s eyeing your pocket. Did you bring anything shiny?”

Jungwon smirked. “What kind of student would I be if I did?” He pulled a golden Galleon from his pocket and held it up, hte coin catching the sunlight. The Niffler’s attention snapped to it instantly, and before you could react, it launched itself out of your hands and straight towards him. 

“Whoa!” Jungwon stumbled backwards as the Niffler clung to his robe, scrabbling at his pocket. You stifled a laugh as your reached out to help, carefully prying the creature away. 

“You’re not making this any easier,” you said, your tone laced with amusement.

“And you’re supposed to be the patient one,” he shot back, though there was no malice in his words. If anything, he seemed to be enjoying the banter. 

The next hour passed in a blur of chaos and laughter. The Niffler’s antics kept you both on your toes, darting from one shiny object to the next. At one point, it disappeared into Jungwon’s bag, emerging triumphantly with a handful of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.

“I don’t even know how those got in there,” he muttered, earning a chuckle from you.

By the time Hagrid called the class to a close, you were exhausted but oddly energized. Jungwon was leaning against the paddock fence, his hair slightly disheveled and a faint flush on his cheeks. He looked at you with a crooked grin.

“Not bad, Hufflepuff. You might actually have some Gryffindor in you.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at your lips. “And you might have a little Hufflepuff. You were surprisingly gentle with the Niffler.”

“Surprising? I’m hurt,” he teased, placing a hand over his chest dramatically. “But I’ll take the compliment.”

Professor Hagrid dismissed the class and the adventures with the Nifflers came to an end. You thought your interactions with Jungwon would come to an end but before you left the room Jungwon caught up with you. The walk back to the castle was filled with easy conversation, much to your own surprise. Jungwon had a way of making you feel comfortable, even as he teased you relentlessly. By the time you parted ways in the Great Hall, you found yourself looking forward to your next Care of Magical Creatures lesson more than you cared to admit.

The following weeks brought more unexpected encounters. Whether it was passing him in the corridors or running into him during shared classes, Jungwon seemed to pop up everywhere. And each time, he greeted you with the same teasing grin and lighthearted banter.

One particularly chilly afternoon, you found yourself in the library, poring over a book on magical creatures for an essay. The familiar scent of parchment and ink surrounded you, and you were just beginning to lose yourself in the text when a shadow fell over your table.

“Studying? On a Saturday?” Jungwon’s voice broke your concentration. 

You looked up to see him standing there, his arms crossed and a playful smirk on his face. “Some of us care about our grades,” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged, sliding into the seat across from you. “Looking for you, apparently. You left your scarf at the paddock yesterday.”

Your eyes widened as he pulled the yellow-and-black scarf from his bag and placed it on the table. “Oh. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “So, what’s the essay on?”

Against your better judgment, you found yourself explaining the assignment. Jungwon listened attentively, occasionally interjecting with a joke or question that made you laugh despite yourself. Before long, what had started as a quiet afternoon of studying turned into a surprisingly enjoyable conversation.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm glow through the library windows, you realized you hadn’t written a single word of your essay. Jungwon seemed to notice, too, because he stood up with a sheepish grin.

“Guess I’ve distracted you enough for one day,” he said. “Good luck with the essay, Hufflepuff.”

“Thanks,” you said, watching as he walked away. For a moment, you thought he might look back, but he didn’t. As you turned back to your book, you couldn’t help but smile. Maybe Gryffindors weren’t so bad. 

-

The weeks following your unexpected partnership with Jungwon passed in a haze of routine and subtle anticipation. You’d find yourself scanning the Great Hall during breakfast or lingering just a little longer in the corridors, hoping to run into him. To your surprise—and slight annoyance—he always seemed to catch you off guard, his sharp wit and easy charm leaving you flustered more often than you’d care to admit.

It was late November when the snow began to blanket the castle grounds, transforming Hogwarts into a winter wonderland. Students bundled up in their house scarves, laughter echoing through the corridors as everyone prepared for the upcoming Yule Ball. It was all anyone could talk about, and despite your best efforts, the excitement was contagious.

You were heading to the greenhouses for Herbology when you heard a familiar voice call out behind you.

​​“Hey, Hufflepuff! Wait up!”

You turned to see Jungwon jogging toward you, his Gryffindor scarf askew and his cheeks pink from the cold. His smile was as bright as ever, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

“You know I have a name, right?” you teased, though your tone lacked any real bite.

“Of course it's Y/n,” he said, falling into step beside you. “But ‘Hufflepuff’ just suits you better. So, have you picked your Yule Ball date yet?”

The question caught you off guard, and you stumbled slightly on the icy path. “What? No! I mean… I haven’t really thought about it.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Come on, the whole school’s buzzing about it. Don’t tell me you’re not the least bit curious who’s going to ask you.”

You felt your face heat up and quickly looked away. “I’m more focused on my classes, thanks. Unlike some people, I don’t have time to obsess over a dance.”

Jungwon laughed, a sound that sent a warm flutter through your chest despite the chilly air. “You know for being so into your classes I would think you were a Ravenclaw but fair enough. Although if you need a last-minute partner, you know where to find me.”

“Is that your way of asking me?” you shot back, trying to regain the upper hand in the conversation.

“Maybe,” he said with a wink. “Or maybe I just like keeping you on your toes.”

Before you could respond, he gave you a quick wave and disappeared down a side path, leaving you standing there with a mix of confusion and something you couldn’t quite place.

“What the hell.” You muttered under your breath as you continued your walk to Herbology.

-

The days leading up to the Yule Ball were a whirlwind of preparations. Your dormitory buzzed with activity as your housemates tried on dresses and robes, debating hairstyles and accessories. You’d finally picked out your own attire, a simple yet elegant dress that you hoped would keep you from standing out too much.

The night of the ball arrived faster than you expected. And there you were standing at the mirror looking at your dress as your roommate talked about her date and what they were going to do after the dance. 

“Y/n, I heard Jungwon asked you.” Yunjin, your roommate, decided to bring up.

“In a way, but I’m not going with him.” you said still looking in hte mirror trying to find any imperfections.

“Why? He’s really cute, plus I’ve seen you two talking like all the time.” You made eye contact with her through the mirror and she was smiling, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Calm down, we just met in class and he has just kept on talking to me. Anyways—do I look okay?” You turn to Yunjin with a worried look on your face. 

She comes up to you and gives you a hug. “Don’t worry Y/n. Jungwon will think you look beautiful.” She teased.

You rolled your eyes not wanting to give her the satisfaction. "He's just a Gryffindor boy, not worth my time."

“Whatever you say. But I've seen the way to you smile when you're with him. Cmon let’s go, before it gets too late,” Yunjin takes your arm and you make your way to the dance. 

The Great Hall was transformed into a magical wonderland, with twinkling fairy lights and shimmering icicles hanging from the enchanted ceiling. Students milled about in their finest attire, the air buzzing with excitement and the soft strains of music.

Yunjin had met up with her date and you were left standing near the refreshment table, sipping on a cup of warm pumpkin juice, when Jungwon appeared at your side. He looked impossibly dashing in his formal robes, the Gryffindor colors subtly incorporated into the design. His hair was neatly styled, but the familiar twinkle in his eyes remained unchanged.

“You clean up well,” he said, his tone light but his gaze warm.

“So do you,” you replied, trying not to let your nerves show. “I thought you’d be off charming the crowd.”

He shrugged, leaning casually against the table. “Maybe I’d rather be here. Besides, someone’s got to make sure you’re not hiding out all night.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “I’m not hiding. I’m observing.”

“Observing, huh?” He held out his hand, his grin softening into something almost nervous. “Care to observe the dance floor with me?”

For a moment, you hesitated. But then, something in his expression—the mix of confidence and vulnerability—made you reach out and take his hand.

The dance floor was crowded, but Jungwon guided you with surprising ease. The moment you stepped closer, you caught the faint scent of his cologne—something clean and subtly spicy that made your head spin. As the music swelled, you found yourself relaxing, letting him lead you through the steps. His hand was warm in yours, his touch steady but slightly trembling, as if he was as nervous as you felt.

“See? Not so bad,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, a stark contrast to his usual playful tone.

You met his gaze and noticed the way his confident demeanor faltered slightly. His eyes flickered from yours to the space between you, like he couldn’t quite believe how close you were. For once, you couldn’t think of a single witty reply. Instead, you let yourself smile, feeling the moment stretch between you like a thread of magic, fragile yet unbreakable.

The steps slowed, and Jungwon’s grip on your hand tightened, as if he wasn’t ready for the song to end. When it finally did, he didn’t let go immediately. Instead, he leaned in slightly, his voice soft and uncertain as he said, “Thanks for the dance, Hufflepuff.”

“Anytime, Gryffindor,” you replied, your voice just as quiet, your heart fluttering wildly as he finally released your hand.

“You know,” Jungwon began, a hint of hesitation in his tone, “I wasn’t sure you’d say yes to that dance.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. “It’s not like you gave me much of a choice.”

He chuckled softly, the sound almost self-conscious. “Fair point. But still… I’m glad you did.”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and for a moment, you forgot how to respond. Instead, you looked at him, really looked at him, and saw something in his expression you couldn’t quite place—a mixture of nervousness and relief.

“Well,” you said finally, your voice softer now, “it was… nice. Dancing with you, I mean.”

“Nice?” he echoed, pretending to be offended, though the slight upward twitch of his lips betrayed him. “I’ll take it.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the small laugh that escaped you. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” he said with a grin, but there was a gentleness in his eyes that made your heart skip another beat.

But Jungwon didn’t stray far. Throughout the night, he stayed by your side, his usual teasing demeanor giving way to something more genuine. He made you laugh with stories of his misadventures in the Gryffindor common room, his eyes lighting up every time you smiled. The two of you shared more dances, each one more comfortable and intimate than the last, until the space between you felt almost non-existent.

As the night wore on, you found yourself wondering how you’d never noticed the way his laugh sounded like music, or how his presence made you feel like you belonged exactly where you were. Jungwon seemed equally caught up in the moment, his gaze lingering on you longer than necessary, his hand brushing yours even when there was no need.

By the end of the ball, it felt as though the rest of the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you under the enchanted ceiling, the stars above mirroring the spark between you.

Jungwon’s voice broke the comfortable silence. “You know, this has been the best Yule Ball I’ve ever been to.”

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “How many have you been to, exactly?”

He chuckled softly, the sound warm and a little shy. “Well, it’s my first, but… it’ll be hard to top this.”

You felt your cheeks warm at his words, the sincerity in his tone catching you off guard. “I’m glad you had a good time,” you said softly, looking down at your feet before meeting his gaze again. “I did too.”

His smile widened, and for a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something else. Instead, he hesitated, glancing around the Great Hall. The music was softer now, the crowd thinning as couples began to drift out.

“Do you… want to go for a walk?” he asked, his voice quieter, almost nervous.

You blinked in surprise but nodded, the idea of some fresh air suddenly appealing. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Together, you slipped out of the hall, the crisp night air wrapping around you as you stepped onto the snow-dusted grounds. The moonlight reflected off the blanket of white, casting everything in a silvery glow. Jungwon walked beside you, his hands tucked into his pockets, his usual confidence replaced by a quiet thoughtfulness.

“It’s so peaceful out here,” you murmured, your breath visible in the cold.

“Yeah,” he agreed, glancing at you with a small smile. “I think I needed this.”

“From all your Gryffindor antics?” you teased lightly.

He laughed, the sound soft but genuine. “Something like that. It’s nice, though. Being here with you.”

You looked at him, your heart skipping at the earnestness in his voice. Before you could overthink it, you nudged him playfully. “Careful, Jungwon. You’re starting to sound sincere.”

“Maybe I am,” he said, his tone quiet but steady. The vulnerability in his eyes made your teasing smile falter, replaced by something softer.

The two of you stopped near a frozen fountain, the snow glimmering around you. Jungwon turned to face you fully, his expression hesitant but hopeful. “Thanks for tonight. I mean it.”

“You already said that,” you replied, though your voice lacked any real teasing.

“I know,” he said, taking a small step closer. “But I wanted to say it again.”

The space between you felt charged, the air holding a kind of anticipation you’d never felt before. Jungwon’s eyes flicked to yours, then to your lips, and back again, as though waiting for a sign.

Not thinking but acting you leaned in close to Jungwon’s face, brushing your lips against his. It was soft and tentative, but the warmth of it spread through you like fire. Jungwon froze for a moment before responding, his hand gently coming up to cup your cheek as he deepened the kiss just slightly.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, the cold air sharp against your heated skin. Jungwon’s smile was small but radiant, his eyes searching yours.

“So… does this mean I’ve secured you as my partner for the next ball too?” he asked, his playful tone returning but laced with unmistakable affection.

You laughed, shaking your head. “We’ll see, Gryffindor. We’ll see.”

✴︎🪷𓈒͏ུུ̑̑. ཉ — by @fruvittea

[hinamie]

mentor

[ratspider]

someone help her for the love of god

[raichukfm]

It's a fascinating question and the answer doesn't speak to it at all. We're talking about swapping perceptions, you know, the hypothetical thing that could answer those "What if my blue is your red?" ponderings. Were that the case and you were to swap, you would start seeing everything red as blue and vice versa, but you would be able to tell this. That's a controversial point, but we aren't proposing a full qualia inversion here; your internal concepts of red and blue haven't changed, just the way that your brain maps sensory stimuli to your qualia has. You can imagine red, and it's red as you have always imagined it, you just look at a red delicious apple and you see it as blue. (Actually a fascinating question whether people would agree with this assessment, and has me wondering about people with aphantasia specifically about if they think their 'red as they have always imagined it' can be separated from the way things with that color look to them. I'm getting off track.)

But this swap is different. Semiotics refers to the meanings that things have; for instance, the way you are looking at these squiggles or hearing these sound waves and taking them as a message. I am intending a meaning now as I type these words out, and you are taking away a meaning as you perceive them, and though it won't quite be the same meaning it is related. There's a question of where exactly the meaning you perceive is; is it in the message itself? Is it just contained in the context around it? Was it put there by me? Is it only there when you read or hear it?

And now specifically we're talking about abstract objects, things which aren't concrete; for instance, words as words, not images or sounds but the thing that those patterns invoke. Things where it is already an interesting philosophical question about how exactly it is that they exist. (For those with the bent to ponder it and not just go 'Uh, they just do, duh' because yeah that's fair.) And that's just one example of an abstract object. It's not all messages. There are numbers. There are complex mathematical objects, like groups and rings and fields. Are things like "peace" abstract objects?

If we do this swap of perceptions, so you perceive the meaning of an abstract thing to be the meaning that I perceive... What are you perceiving, exactly? Is it the thing anymore? Is this even truly a swap of perceptions or is it rather a swap of thoughts? If you took one piece of my mental model of the world and swapped it out with one of yours, how would it fit in? Would it fit in at all? It's fascinating.

The world isn't shrouded in darkness. There's not some blinding fog that has settled over everything. You can observe the world, make sense of parts of it, peer into its mysteries and try to think of answers. Yeah, it's confusing and a lot of pieces of it are out of reach but that's just because the world is so fucking big and complicated and so many parts we simply lack the faculties to possess. This question is that lovely kind of philosophical pondering that is fundamentally unresolvable and by all rights has no practical purpose... But we can still talk about it, and in talking about it, we can share ideas and work through how it is we think of things. If nothing else, we can enjoy ourselves. And that's as practical a purpose as anything else.

Don't see something you can't think of how to answer and decide that it cannot be answered and that now is a time to shrink away to safe thoughts that can be trusted. Ponder whatever bullshit that strikes your fancy, and try to think about what the answers would be. Even if you can fundamentally never find out if you're right or wrong, the thinking itself is a worthwhile exercise. Encourage other people to do it too, though don't try to force it; different people have their own sorts of funtime questioning. I've got things like this, some people have how much prep time Batman would need to defeat Shrek in a fight.

equally confounded and obsessed by this quora question and response that i just stumbled onto