#you have no idea how quickly i was going to close my laptop the moment she took her helmet off

[lizzardwitch]

watching 'edge of extinction' is so funny because i'm equal parts excited that heckyl came back to save kendall (shipping heart going crazy rn) and highly irritated that kendall doesn't even get to be involved in the greenzilla megazord fight and barely gets to do a solo fight since becoming a ranger

like god forbid kendall ever have a solo fight or ever get solo focus on anything or ever get involved in the main fights

she always has to be shoved to the fucking background holy shit

[4ttack-ur-heart]

Dr. Zayne will handle it.

Pairings: Zayne x afab! Reader

Summary: Zayne finds out your gyno appointment is going to be with a male doctor and he’s less than happy about it.

Warnings: not really any just Zayne being jealous yet respectful, idk if I wrote him ooc or not… but it’s a learning experience lol.

Ps- it’s a lil shorter than what I normally write but I have so many ideas brewing.

————

Zayne’s fingers type quickly on his laptop, a warm cup of tea steeping next to him. His glasses are perched on the bridge of his nose with the lenses reflecting reports and patient files. He had promised only an hour of working in his home office while you stayed with him.

He could hear your voice in the main room arguing with whomever you spoke with. After your tone sharpened slightly, he decided to close his computer, remove his glasses, and see what was happening.

“No, I’ve been waiting for this appointment for two months! There has to be something else you can do.” You plead with frustration.

Zayne raises a brow, wondering what kind of appointment has you so stirred up. He watches as you angrily huff and say goodbye before ending the call. Your phone is tossed to the couch carelessly and you rub your face in your hands.

He carefully comes up behind you, his large hands covering your shoulders and the pads of his thumbs gently massage the tissue.

“Is everything okay, dear?” Concern is evident in his voice.

You nod and turn around to face him. “Yeah, just my stupid gynecologist.”

Zayne remains quiet, obviously waiting for you to continue.

“I’ve been trying to see this specific doctor because the association recommended her, but they just called me and said they overbooked her for this month and she won't be able to see me."

“Why does the association even have a recommended gynecologist?”

His questions hung in the air for a few moments while you scooped up your phone from the couch.

“I guess Dr. Lina is the best in her field. Kinda like how you’re the best cardiologist- most hunters try to see you instead of anyone else for heart issues. I guess it’s the same for her, and since a lot of hunters are women, the association trusts her to handle any issues for us.”

Zayne hums in understanding and places a tender kiss on your temple, his hand stroking your back to relax you. “So, what are you required to do now?”

You let out a sigh, “They can either reschedule me a month from my original appointment or I have to see the other gynecologist that the association recommended… who’s a guy.”

He tenses up and his hand stops moving.

Zayne maintained a high level of professionalism in his interactions with female patients. He recognized that the primary objective of doctors, including himself, is to assist individuals in need. Nevertheless, he experienced a sense of jealousy at the chance of another man observing you in a vulnerable situation.

“And are you comfortable with that?” His voice grows more cold and tense.

You pull your lip that you were chewing on from between your teeth, “Not really… that’s why I was waiting for Dr. Lina. If I’m not cleared soon, then I’ll have to be put on desk duty until I am.”

The foreboding future of being limited to desk duty when you weren't even physically injured was sure to make you go crazy. It was one of the most frustrating things about being a hunter- forget the wanderers, no, it was staying on top of all the appointments to ensure you were completely healthy. Dental appointments, eye exams, physicals, and now gynecology.

“I’ll miss my deadline if I wait for her,” frowning, you collapse onto the sofa in defeat. “Hello desk duty for the next month.”

You glance up at Zayne, searching for a hint of his thoughts on the situation, but he simply exhales through his nose, a silent acknowledgment of your frustration. He settles beside you, and you allow yourself to rest against his chest, feeling the cool steadiness of him. As you roll your eyes at the absurdity of it all, you pull out your phone to dial the clinic once more. Unbeknownst to you, Zayne’s gaze is intently fixed on the screen, curiosity dancing in his eyes.

“I’ll just book with that other doctor,” you say dejectedly.

Zayne's hand clamps down on your wrist with a surprising intensity, preventing you from dialing the number. Shock floods your senses, and as your gaze meets his, you can't help but notice the piercing coldness in his green eyes. The tension in the air thickens, making it clear that this moment is more weighted than you had anticipated.

“Zayne?”

You look back to his hand locked onto your wrist. Little white snowflakes flurry from his arm, and from that, you can tell the doctor is having an internal battle with his emotions.

“Forgive me for my impracticality, but I don’t think I’m comfortable with you seeing a male gynecologist.” You don’t fail to notice the way his voice was now lowered and a chill ran through your body.

The flurry of snowflakes burst from his hand in quicker movements at your words and he quickly lets go of you.

“My, my, is Dr. Zayne… jealous?”

“I don’t see why I cannot clear you for this, I am your primary doctor after all.”

Aww, your snowman was jealous. He just didn’t want to admit it.

“Zayne, honey,” you lock your fingers with his, noting the way the snowflakes start to calm down. “As much as I would prefer you to do it over anyone else, the association wants someone specialized in that field.”

Zayne furrows his brow, a wave of frustration washing over him. He knows deep down that he lacks the authority to grant you the necessary clearance, and the thought that another man will see you exposed, no matter how justified it may be for medical reasons, angers him even more. The tension in the room thickens as he rises abruptly from the sofa, his movements are almost forceful as he unintentionally nudges you aside in his haste, caught between concern for your well-being and the turmoil within himself.

“Don’t make the appointment.”

And with that, he leaves the room.

"Zayne!" You call out, but the sound of his office door shutting was all you received in response.

—————-

About an hour ticks by and you never leave the couch, instead just opting to watch some soap opera to pass the time with a throw blanket covering your body as the rain pelts against the windows.

You could faintly hear Zayne's muffled voice speaking to someone over the phone. You didn't want to disturb him, understanding how difficult it is for him to express his emotions. If he needed some time alone, you would give him that space.

By the time the door opens, the main character is already in tears again for the umpteenth time. He stands over you and you turn off the show.

In the stillness, you can sense his struggle to meet your gaze, while your eyes remain locked on his, filled with concern and curiousness.

Finally, he clears his throat.

“You have an appointment with Dr. Lina at 8 a.m. on Monday. Please do not be late.”

Shock washes over your features and your mouth parts open.

“What? Zayne, how did you-”

“Being at the top of your field has its advantages.”

You're silent, not knowing what to say, just overall confused. It would’ve taken you another month to see her and now you’re seeing her in three days?

“One of my colleagues is Dr. Lina's cousin. I explained to him your situation and he talked to her. I guess she was delighted to find out that the one and only Dr. Zayne’s girlfriend wanted to see her- so she pushed back one of her appointments.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Without another thought, you move off the couch and wrap your arms around his neck. Zayne reciprocates the hug and cradles your head to his chest.

“Thank you.”

Zayne's hand continues to stroke your hair, a bit hesitant as he chooses his next words carefully. "Darling, I want to apologize for my behavior earlier."

You pull away with furrowed eyebrows as he meets your eyes.

"You were right, it seems I was a bit jealous." His hand brushes back a stray lock of your hair. "If you were required to go see another male doctor, I should have been more understanding of that. It wasn't right nor professional for me to intervene without your consent-"

"Zayne." Your sharp tone cuts off his apology. "You don’t need to apologize for anything. I understand how difficult it is for you to confront your emotions. Honestly, I couldn’t be more relieved. I had already told you that I wasn’t comfortable seeing a male doctor for this, so you being jealous and taking action like that is kind of sexy."

"You think that was sexy?" Zayne smirks as if humored by the situation. "Really."

You shrug and nod your head, "I mean, yeah. You being all protective like that and realizing you're jealous is something I don't get to see every day. Maybe I should make you jealous more often..."

He lets out a low growl and pulls you back to his chest, lips brushing against your hairline as he inhales your shampoo.

"It would be wise not to push it," He warns. "Besides, I’d much rather owe Dr. Lina a favor than you forced to be uncomfortable.” His thumb brushes over your ear.

“What’s the favor?”

“That I see one of her children. With the discovery of his new evol, I guess his heart had some abnormal fluctuations.”

You frown at his answer. A child with heart problems already?

Zayne notices your change in demeanor and he tilts your chin up to look at him.

“Don’t fret over it darling, I’m seeing him tomorrow and she had already given me a brief rundown on his condition. It sounds like it’s just the body getting used to the abundance of power. It's common in children.”

You nod, relieved. If anyone can figure it out, it’s your boyfriend.

The rest of the night was spent cuddling on the couch and snacking on sweets while the cliche drama played in the background.

———-

Your appointment with Dr. Lina went very smoothly and she said you were in perfect health.

By the next week, you were approved to continue out in the field and the heavy weight was lifted off your shoulders.

Zayne was very relieved to find out his hypothesis was correct with Linda’s son, Ivan. As it turns out Ivan’s evol was super speed and the fluctuations in his heart were just him needing to burn off the energy.

You were glad it all worked out, thanks to your Dr. Zayne.

[p0orbaby]

Dancing in the Dark

summary: a tactics coach and a vice captain walk into a bar… have a not so secret relationship

warnings: mentions of sex but nothing graphic

a/n: i asked for requests and someone sent me this gem

word count: 3.1k

-

Leah texts you at exactly 12:02 a.m., a time she insists is “late enough to avoid suspicion but early enough that we’re not knackered in the morning.” The precision of it is very Leah—practical, calculated, with just the faintest whisper of rebellion. It’s always the same text—Room 308—as if she’s writing it for a stranger who might need the address for their sat nav. She never adds punctuation. You think that’s intentional, a way of keeping it casual, devoid of any intimacy that could be misconstrued.

You’ve stopped bothering to reply. It’s not that you don’t want to see her—want isn’t the word for what you feel when you see her name flash on your screen, but it’s close enough. It’s that typing on my way feels excessive when the answer’s already obvious. She knows you’ll come. You know she knows. And there’s something about that silent agreement that feels like the only part of this whole arrangement that makes sense.

The desk lamp casts a faint yellow glow across the room as you pack up. Your laptop goes into the bag first, followed by the notepad you’ve been using to scribble ideas for tomorrow’s strategy meeting. You pause to carefully align its corner with the edge of the desk—a habit you’ve had since you were a child, though you’re not sure if it’s a quirk of personality or a learned behaviour from years of Catholic school and its draconian rules about neatness.

Your hoodie is next, slung over the back of the chair like it’s been waiting for this exact moment. It’s an old one from university, the logo cracked and peeling, the sleeves stretched from too many washes. It smells faintly of your laundry detergent—a scent marketed as “ocean breeze,” though you’ve always thought it smells more like cheap fabric softener and an overactive imagination. Nothing about it suggests the ocean, or even a breeze. It’s more akin to the air freshener in a Southend-on-Sea rental cottage, the kind with faded floral curtains and a broken kettle. You wonder, briefly, if Leah would find this thought amusing. Probably. She has a way of laughing at things that don’t seem funny until she does.

The hotel corridor is silent, save for the distant hum of a vending machine and the occasional creak of overused floorboards. You walk quickly, your trainers barely making a sound on the patterned carpet—a gaudy, swirling design in shades of burgundy and gold that seems to scream corporate retreat. You keep your eyes trained forward, as if avoiding eye contact with the carpet will somehow render you invisible to anyone who might happen to step out of their room.

You’ve mapped out every staff member’s room, memorised the most efficient route, and calculated the probability of running into someone based on their known habits. Karen from PR always goes to bed early, probably still jet-lagged from the US tour. The physio, Jamie, is a night owl, but he’s more likely to be glued to Netflix than wandering the halls. Leah finds this level of detail ridiculous.

“You’re acting like MI5 is going to raid the place,” she’d said once, sprawled on her bed in a tangle of limbs and laughter. Her hair was still damp from the shower, a faint halo of gold catching the light as she turned her head to look at you. “You’re allowed to have fun, you know”

She’d been peeling off your shirt as she said it, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your shoulder, her eyes glittering with amusement. You wanted to argue, to tell her that fun is precisely what you’re having, in the only way you know how to have it: meticulously planned, risk-assessed, and executed with the precision of a military operation. But then her hands had moved lower, and the argument had dissolved into something else entirely. Something much harder to put into words.

-

Room 308. You knock twice—firm, precise knocks that betray none of the absurd nervousness bubbling under the surface. The kind that makes your palms clammy and your chest feel like it’s trying to audition for a drum solo. The knocks are part of a ritual now, as familiar as tying your boots before a match or double-checking the pitch markings. Three sharp raps, never four, because three would seem impatient, and two would feel too casual, as though you’re dropping by to borrow sugar or ask for her Netflix password.

The door opens almost instantly, as if she’s been standing on the other side, waiting for you. Leah’s dressed in one of those oversized T-shirts she always wears off the pitch, the kind that blur the line between effortless and lazy. This one is black, or it might have been once, but it’s faded now, the fabric soft and worn thin at the seams. The logo across the chest is barely legible—AC__ME—as though it’s been through the wash one too many times. You can’t tell if it’s a nod to Arsenal, a subtle homage to Wile E. Coyote’s endless misfortunes, or one of those niche designer brands that only appear on people with a six-figure salary and a curated Instagram aesthetic. It’s probably the latter. Leah strikes you as the kind of person who’d know what Vetements is and pretend she doesn’t care about it while secretly owning three pieces.

“Hey,” she says, stepping aside to let you in. Her voice has this easy warmth to it, like she’s just woken up from the kind of nap that makes you forget what year it is. There’s a hint of amusement in her tone, the faint lilt of someone who’s just thought of something funny but isn’t planning to share it with the group. You’ve always liked that about her—how she can hold a joke in her mouth like a secret, like it’s something she doesn’t owe to anyone else.

“Hi,” you reply, because what else is there to say? Hello feels too formal, like you’ve shown up for a job interview, and anything else—anything softer, more intimate—feels dangerous. Like stepping too close to the edge of a cliff just to see how far you can lean before gravity kicks in.

Her room is a mirror image of yours, down to the garish burgundy carpet and beige curtains that don’t quite close properly. It’s a symphony of stereotypical hotel design, where the furniture all looks like it’s been bolted down as a precaution against theft. But there’s something different about hers, something distinctly Leah. It smells faintly of her perfume, a citrusy Chanel scent you’d once looked for in John Lewis out of curiosity. You’d sprayed it onto one of those paper tester strips, only to feel your lungs contract at the price tag. It smells like sunshine and sharp edges, and now it’s permanently tangled up in your memory of her.

The bed is unmade, the covers thrown haphazardly across the mattress like they’ve been caught mid-escape. One pillow teeters on the edge, a casualty of her apparent inability to sleep neatly. There’s a half-empty bottle of water on the nightstand, its label peeling from condensation. A pair of socks—crew-length, white with a small Nike tick—lie abandoned on the floor near the foot of the bed, one inside out. The room is messy in a way that surprises you. Leah, who is precise and meticulous on the pitch, leaves her personal space in a state of mild chaos. And for some reason, it makes you smile. It’s humanising, like finding out that superheroes still get toothpaste on their shirts.

You step inside, careful not to trip over her trainers—Adidas Sambas in a muted beige tone, scuffed at the edges but somehow still immaculate in their coolness. The door clicks shut behind you, the sound punctuating the silence like a full stop. You turn to face her, and she’s leaning against the dresser now, her hands resting in the pockets of her shorts. She’s watching you, her eyes half-lidded and impossibly blue, the kind of blue that makes you think of open skies and lost afternoons.

“What?” you ask, because the weight of her gaze always makes you self-conscious, like you’ve walked into a room wearing mismatched socks.

“Nothing,” she says, her mouth curving into a smirk. “You just look…” She pauses, letting the sentence hang in the air like an unfinished melody.

“What?” you repeat, a little sharper this time, though you’re smiling too.

“Like you’re trying not to smile,” she finishes, pushing off the dresser and moving closer.

And maybe you are. Maybe you’re trying not to give away how much you like this—the quiet intimacy of it, the way she looks at you like you’re the only person in the world who knows what this feels like. Maybe you’re trying not to admit how much you want to reach out and touch her, to close the space between you with a single step. But you don’t. Not yet.

-

The sex is unhurried, languid. Leah moves with the same precision she does on the pitch, her hands mapping the curve of your waist, the line of your jaw, like she’s planning her next move three steps in advance. It’s the same deliberation you’ve seen in her during matches—the way she reads the game like it’s written in a language only she understands. But this isn’t a match. There are no spectators, no whistles, no rules, just her and you and the slow, deliberate way she’s undoing you, piece by piece.

Her kisses are deep, focused. They land with intent, the kind that makes you forget your own name, let alone the fragile, tenuous boundaries of this arrangement. Her mouth lingers on yours, then moves to your neck, her lips brushing just beneath your ear. She doesn’t bite, not yet, but you can feel her teeth graze your skin, an unspoken promise that leaves you gasping, your fingers curling into the rough fabric of the hotel sheets.

Her fingertips press into your skin—not hard enough to hurt but just firm enough to leave the ghost of her touch behind, as though she’s marking her territory. They trace the length of your back, down your spine, to your hips. Her thumbs skim over the waistband of your joggers before she tugs them down with a kind of casual confidence that feels maddeningly unfair. She knows exactly what she’s doing. She always does.

“You’re so quiet,” she murmurs, her voice low, teasing. She presses a kiss to your collarbone, her hands slipping beneath your shirt to push it up, her palms warm against your ribs. “That’s not like you”

“I’m—” You try to respond, but her mouth finds a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, and the words catch in your throat.

“Exactly,” she says, her voice smug as she moves lower, her lips trailing down your chest, your stomach, her pace agonisingly slow. She hooks her fingers under the waistband of your underwear, and you lift your hips instinctively, barely registering the soft laugh she lets out, the sound dark and smooth like melted chocolate.

There’s no rush. Leah’s always like this—methodical, unhurried. She knows how to take her time, how to keep you teetering on the edge until your body feels like it’s no longer your own. She kisses her way back up, pausing to nip at your jaw, your shoulder, the place where your pulse beats just beneath your skin. Her hand slips between your thighs, her touch deliberate, controlled. And you’re gone.

It’s like a tidal wave, slow to build but devastating when it crashes over you. You’re not sure when you start begging—if it even counts as begging, the broken sounds spilling from your lips without your consent—but Leah doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, she seems pleased, her smirk pressing against the hollow of your throat as she mutters something you’re too far gone to catch.

At some point, she presses her forehead to yours, her breath coming in short, uneven bursts. She murmurs something—low, unintelligible, a slurred mix of swear words and your name. Or maybe it’s not your name. Maybe it’s a prayer. Maybe it’s both. You don’t ask her to repeat it. You’re too busy trying to remember how to breathe, your hands clutching at her back, pulling her closer like you can merge into her, like you can stop time if you just hold on tightly enough.

By the time you collapse onto the mattress, tangled in the hotel’s suspiciously rough sheets, you’re vaguely aware of how loud you’ve been. The walls are thin. The kind of thing where you can hear your neighbour’s TV murmuring away or the occasional flush of a toilet. It’s almost comedic, really, the way you’d tried so hard to avoid being seen earlier, only to make it painfully obvious now. You half expect a knock on the door, some irate teammate demanding silence.

Leah doesn’t seem to care. Of course she doesn’t. She lies beside you, her face flushed, her hair falling loose from the ponytail she’d barely tried to secure. She’s smirking, the way she always does after these nights, like she’s just scored the winning goal and nobody else on the team noticed. Her arm brushes against yours as she stretches out, her skin warm and damp, her breathing slow and even.

-

The next morning, you arrive at breakfast twenty minutes late, a record even for you. You’ve spent the better part of that time in front of the mirror, tilting your head at impossible angles to assess the carnage Leah left on your neck. Hickeys, in various stages of bruise-like blossoming, dot your skin like a battlefield casualty report. You try concealer—two layers, then three—but it only makes you look like you’ve dipped your neck in cake batter. After an extensive wardrobe evaluation, you settle on a jumper with a collar just high enough to obscure the worst of it, but not so high that it screams I’ve made several poor life choices and am now concealing the evidence.

You enter the dining area cautiously, your eyes scanning for witnesses like you’re in the opening sequence of Casino Royale. The room is loud with the sound of clinking cutlery, chairs scraping against linoleum, and conversations overlapping in a way that is both chaotic and oddly comforting. You spot Katie McCabe first, standing by the buffet with a bowl of cereal that is more milk than anything resembling a solid. Her spoon hovers mid-air as she glances at you, then swivels her head in Leah’s direction, who is seated at a corner table, scrolling through her phone like she has never made a suspicious noise in her life.

Katie’s eyes narrow, and her mouth stretches into a grin so wicked it should be trademarked. She sets her cereal down and makes a beeline for you, walking with the kind of determination that belongs exclusively to people with too much time on their hands and absolutely no regard for personal boundaries.

“Well, well,” she says, stepping closer. Her eyes dart to your neck, then back up to your face. “Someone had a busy night.”

You freeze. Instinctively, your hand twitches toward the collar of your jumper, but you stop yourself. Guilty behaviour. Act normal. Be cool. You shrug in what you hope is a convincing display of nonchalance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Katie tilts her head, her grin widening. “Oh, don’t play dumb,” she says, gesturing vaguely toward your neck. “What’s that, then? Tactical bruising? Working on a new game plan?”

“I slipped in the shower,” you deadpan. It’s a lie so bad it physically hurts to say, but the alternative is giving Katie McCabe ammunition, and you’d rather die than give her the satisfaction.

She snorts. “Jesus, you’ve got to at least try with these excuses”

You glare at her, but it’s useless. Katie is like a shark in open water—she can smell blood, and she’s circling. She follows you to the table, sliding into the chair next to yours without so much as an invitation. Her cereal sloshes precariously in her bowl, milk dripping onto the edge of the table. She doesn’t notice. Or doesn’t care.

Leah, of course, is completely unbothered. She’s leaned back in her chair, scrolling through her phone like she’s reading the football section of The Guardian and not actively trying to avoid eye contact with you. Her hair is still slightly damp from her morning shower, and she’s wearing a hoodie that looks suspiciously like yours. Katie clocks the hoodie immediately and raises an eyebrow, but says nothing. Not yet.

“Just to clarify,” Katie says, her voice loud enough to carry to the next table, “are we calling this a team-building exercise or…?”

Leah doesn’t even flinch. Without looking up from her phone, she says, “Mind your business, McCabe”

Katie lets out a delighted laugh, stealing a slice of toast from your plate like she’s earned it. “Oh, it is my business,” she says, buttering the toast with an enthusiasm that borders on offensive. “You lot kept me up all night. Thought someone was being murdered in the next room. Turns out it was just—”

“Katie,” you interrupt, your voice sharp enough to cut through her sentence. Your face is burning, your ears hot enough to fry an egg on.

Katie leans back in her chair, utterly unrepentant. “Relax,” she says, taking a bite of the toast she stole. “Your secret’s safe with me. For now”

She winks at you, a gesture so insufferable you consider lobbing a teaspoon at her head. Instead, you glance at Leah, whose lips are twitching at the edges, betraying the smirk she’s desperately trying to suppress.

You shoot her a glare that you hope translates to I will kill you later, but she only raises an eyebrow, as if to say go ahead, make my day.

Katie’s still watching you, her grin as infuriating as ever. “You’re lucky it was me who heard you,” she says, her tone dripping with mock sincerity. “Imagine if it had been Beth. She’d have the whole squad doing impressions by now”

Leah finally looks up from her phone, her expression cool, but there’s a dangerous glint in her eye. “You done?”

Katie holds up her hands in mock surrender, her grin never faltering. “I’m just saying. Maybe next time, try keeping it down. Or don’t. Makes for great entertainment”

You slump in your chair, burying your face in your hands. You can feel Leah’s gaze on you, and when you finally peek through your fingers, she’s smiling. Not smirking, not teasing, but actually smiling, like this is the most fun she’s had in weeks.

You make a mental note to kill her later. Or maybe kiss her. You haven’t decided yet.

[thebigbadbatswife]

OCT 17th - Wall Sex

Pairing - Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Title - Welcome Home

Summary - There’s nothing quite like the sex that takes place after Simon comes home from a long deployment

Warnings - Wall Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Multiple Orgasms, Simultaneous Orgasm, Large Cock.

Word Count - 1.8k

You’re on the sofa, reruns of your favourite tv show are playing in the background while your eyes are glued to the screen of your laptop. Your fingers fly across your keyboard as you work on your most recent project. Inspiration hit you out of the blue, right as you were about to call it a night and go for bed and, not wanting to lose it, you decided to fire up your laptop and start typing.

You’re so engrossed in your work, you almost miss the sound of keys in the front door. 

Your head snaps upwards as a smile makes its way across your face. You know exactly what the sound means. 

Simon’s home. 

You close the lid of your laptop and set it down onto the seat next to you, your work and inspiration now completely forgotten. Because your boyfriend is finally home, safe and sound from his most recent deployment, and you have missed him so much. Jumping to your feet, you make your way out of the living room and into the hallway. 

As soon as you lay eyes on him, you’re sprinting toward him and jumping up into his arms. Your legs wrap around his hips as he just about manages to catch you, with how little warning you gave him. His laughter is deep and you can feel the way it rumbles in his chest. 

“My girl missed me, yeah?” he asks.

You nod as you pull the balaclava off of him, revealing his scarred, but handsome face. You cup his face your thumbs smoothing over his cheeks as you look him over. Deep brown eyes watch you closely, like he’s committing your face to his memory, while you check him. Other than the fact that his dark hair is a little longer than when it was when he left several months ago, there’s nothing new of note. At least, on his face.

“You know I always miss you,” you reply. 

He hums softly as he readjusts his grip on you so one of his hands can come up to cup your face. His eyes glance down to your lips before returning to your eyes. You answer his silent question by moving forward and pressing your lips against his. Simon responds in kind. His chapped lips moving slowly against your softer and more moisturised ones. 

Like every time he comes back home, you want to savour the first kiss. Kissing each other for a long moment until you’re forced to break away as your lungs scream for oxygen. And even then you’re not pulling away fully. Your lips a blade of grass width from each other as you both pant. 

As soon as you’re no longer feeling lightheaded, your lips meet his again. The kisses quickly grow heated as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Both of you moan into the kiss and his grip on you tightens. There’s already heat blooming in your lower stomach and between your legs. 

Before you know it, your back is against the wall and the hand that had been previously cupping your face is pushing your shorts to the side. Simon smirks against your mouth as he discovers that, not only are you not wearing any underwear, but you’re already wet.

“No panties and you’re already wet?”

You shrug. “I have no idea when you’re going to be home, so I always need to be ready, don’t I?”

He chuckles. “I think you were writin’ something dirty again, weren’t ya?” he teases.

You feel no shame about the things that you write. In fact, Simon only knows what you write because you’ve asked for his “help” when you have got stuck on a scene, in the past.

“And so what if I was? What are you going to do about it?” you playfully challenge.

He quirks an eyebrow at you. “Nothin’. Just going to give you better material to write with.” 

There’s no opportunity for you to reply as he’s pushing two of his thick fingers into you. You inhale sharply, your nails digging into the thick material of his coat. His fingers stretch and work you open. The rough, calloused pads of them pushing up against that soft, sweet spot deep within you. Soft sighs leave you each time he sinks his digits inside of you. 

Simon’s always been great with his fingers. It’s one of the first things you quickly learned when you got past first base. He always knows exactly how and when to move them in order to get you to see stars. Two fingers soon becomes three and your soft sighs start to turn into soft moans.

Dark brown eyes watch you closely as you lose yourself to the feeling of his fingers. Months of only having your own fingers or one of your toys to try and satisfy yourself with don’t come close to the way that he makes you feel. Already you feel amazing and he hasn’t even come close to making you cum yet.

He loves watching you lose yourself to the pleasure that he’s bringing you. A sense of pride filling his chest knowing that he’s the reason that you feel so good and that only he gets to see you like this. And you’re well aware of all of it. In the moments where he thinks you’re too far gone to be paying attention, you notice the way that he looks at you. It’s like no one else. 

And as much as you love his fingers, you desperately want his cock inside of you. 

“Si, please,” you gasp softly. 

“Please what? Come on, gotta use your words for me, lovie. I can’t read minds.”

You whine. Trying to get your tongue to cooperate with your brain is starting to get harder and you’re sure he knows that. Even when he’s aching to be buried inside of you, he still likes to watch you squirm. 

“Simon, please, I want your cock.” 

You expect him to tease you further. More often than not, that’s what he loves to do. Really work you up and get you to beg for him. This is one of the rare occasions where he’s as impatient as you are. Simon pulls his fingers out of you, making you whine again as he leaves you feeling completely empty. 

He doesn’t leave you to feel empty for long. There’s rustling as he unbutton and unzips his trousers, freeing his cock from them. Before you know it, the head of his cock is pressing up against your needy hole and he’s starting to push inside of you. 

You moan in unison with each other. Your walls squeezing his cock as he buries himself to the hilt. His head comes to rest against your shoulder as he stills, giving you a moment to adjust to the size of him. His grip on you harsh as he holds himself back from starting to ram into you. Simon’s always so much for you to take and even with the prep from his fingers, you still always need a moment.

Glancing downwards, you take in the sight of where your greedy, drooling cunt is swallowing his cock. No matter how many times you take him, you still can’t quite believe how perfectly he fits inside of you. Like he was made for you and only you. 

“You can move,” you tell him. 

“You sure?” he asks. Normally you would find his concern sweet. Right now you find it annoying. You just want him to lose control and fuck you dumb.

“Yeah.”

Simon wastes no time starting to drill into you. Each thrust is hard and fast, the head of his cock now hitting that sweet spot continuously. Your moans are loud and you’re certain that you’ll receive a noise complaint from the neighbours that live next door of the semi detached house you live in, but you’re already too far gone to give a damn. Your boyfriend’s home and he’s finally starting to fuck your brains out. 

As he fucks you against the wall, his fingers grip the front of your tank top and he roughly pulls it down, letting your breasts pop out. Immediately his lips close around one of your nipples and he starts to suck. At the same time, his pinches your other nipple, rolling it between his thumb and index finger.

“Fuck,” you gasp, your back arching into his touch. Your fingers run through his brown hair, tugging each time pleasure surges through you. Which has him groaning each time. 

You can feel the way his cock grows harder and thicker inside of you with each thrust. He’s getting close and so are you. Your neglected clit pulses with need and you untangle your fingers from his hair to try and slip it between your two bodies, but he bats your hand away. His calloused thumb presses against your clit and you can’t help, but gasp his name as he starts rubbing it in time with his thrusts. 

“Fuck, fuck, Simon!” you cry as white hot pleasure slams into you, almost causing you to see white as your body clamps down onto his cock and you cream all over his shaft. 

He follows shortly afterwards. His mouth releasing your nipple as he groans your name, grinding his cock into you as it throbs and releases deep inside of you. You expect him to stop, but he doesn’t. He continues rutting into you, his cock still rock hard. 

Your orgasms leave you both sensitive. The feeling of pleasure and pain mixing together as you can feel him hurtling you toward another one. You’re muttering his name now. Over and over again like a mantra, begging him to make you cum again. 

And he does. 

You and Simon hit your orgasms together. It’s even more intense than your first one. Your toes curling as your eyes roll into the back of your head as cunt squeezes him, milking every last drop from him as he fills your cunt once more.

You collapse against him, your head coming to rest against his shoulder. Both of you are panting heavily as you both come down from your highs. 

Simon adjusts the grip he has on you and he moves you away from the wall. The sound of his heavy boots is loud as he manoeuvres both of you back into the living room. He keeps you seated on his cock as he settles down on the sofa, his head lolling back to rest on the cushion. 

“Gimme a sec and we’ll go again, yeah?” 

You chuckle as you work on unzipping and removing his coat from his body. “Someone’s insatiable,” you tease.

He huffs a laugh and lightly slaps your ass, making you gasp. “Months in the middle of nowhere, no idea when I’m ever gonna see my girl again? I’m not stopping until one of us passes out from exhaustion.”

[pixiexdusts-world]

Seven chances

Min ho Moon x ex!reader

Summary: Min Ho plans seven dates to win back his ex—and it just might work.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

I never thought I’d see Min Ho Moon again. Not after the way things ended between us.

The moment I spot him across the café, I freeze. He looks exactly the same—maybe even better. Same tousled hair, same confident smirk, same annoyingly perfect skin. But something in his eyes is different. I quickly turn my attention back to my laptop, pretending I didn’t see him.

I should’ve known that wouldn’t stop him.

“Hey,” his voice is smooth, casual, but I can hear the nerves underneath. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

I exhale slowly before looking up. “Min Ho.” I keep my tone neutral.

He doesn’t take the hint. Instead, he slides into the chair across from me without asking. Typical.

“How have you been?” he asks, as if we’re old friends catching up.

“Fine,” I say. “Busy.”

Min Ho leans back, studying me. I hate how easy it is for him to make eye contact, like we didn’t go months without speaking. Like he didn’t break my heart.

“I miss you,” he says. Just like that. No preamble, no hesitation.

I let out a short laugh. “That’s not how this works, Min Ho.”

He frowns. “How what works?”

“You don’t just walk back into my life and say you miss me,” I say, folding my arms. “You don’t get to act like nothing happened.”

His jaw tightens. “I know. That’s why I’m here.”

I glance away, out the café window, watching people walk by. It’s a crisp afternoon in Seoul, and the city feels like it’s moving faster than I am.

Min Ho sighs, rubbing his hands together like he’s bracing himself. “I messed up.”

“No kidding.”

He nods. “I hurt you. And I hate myself for it.”

I close my laptop, giving him my full attention. “Then why did you do it?”

Min Ho hesitates. “Because I was scared.”

“Scared?” I repeat, incredulous. “That’s your excuse?”

“I didn’t think I was good enough for you,” he says, voice quiet. “I thought if I let myself get too close, I’d end up ruining everything. So instead of losing you later, I pushed you away first.”

I stare at him. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I know,” he says, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “I’m an idiot.”

I shake my head. “You really are.”

There’s a beat of silence between us. I should get up and leave. I should tell him it’s too late, that I don’t care anymore.

But I do care.

And Min Ho, for all his flaws, is sitting here, admitting he was wrong. That’s not something he does often.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he says, his voice softer now. “But I want to try again. I want to prove to you that I’ve changed.”

I look at him carefully. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?”

Min Ho smirks, the familiar confidence creeping back into his expression. “Give me a week. Let me take you on seven dates. No expectations, no pressure. Just… let me show you why we were good together.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Seven?”

He nods. “Seven.”

I should say no. I should walk away and never look back.

But instead, I sigh. “Fine. One week.”

The grin that spreads across his face is enough to make my heart ache. Because deep down, I know the truth.

I never really stopped loving him.

Day One: The Ice Rink

Min Ho picks me up right on time, a smug look on his face. “You’re going to love this,” he says, leading me inside the rink.

I narrow my eyes. “You remember that I can’t skate, right?”

“That’s the best part,” he teases. “You’ll have to hold onto me the whole time.”

I glare at him, but when we step onto the ice and I immediately slip, I have no choice but to grab his arm. He chuckles. “Told you.”

Despite my frustration, I can’t help but smile. Maybe this isn’t the worst idea after all.

Day Two: The Bookstore

“I remember you used to spend hours in here,” Min Ho says as we step inside my favorite bookstore.

I give him a suspicious look. “You hate bookstores.”

“I hate reading,” he corrects. “Not bookstores.” He picks up a random book and flips through it, pretending to look interested.

I smirk. “You’re just trying to impress me.”

“Is it working?” he asks, grinning.

I roll my eyes, but I don’t miss the warmth creeping into my chest.

Day Three: The Street Market

Min Ho buys me tteokbokki from my favorite vendor, and we wander through the market, the scent of food filling the air. He tries to feed me a piece, but I swat his hand away.

“You’re so difficult,” he groans.

“You love it,” I tease before I can stop myself.

He grins. “I do.”

Day Four: The Beach

We sit on the sand, watching the waves roll in. Min Ho looks at me, his expression unreadable. “I don’t deserve you,” he says suddenly.

I sigh. “Min Ho—”

“I just need you to know that,” he interrupts. “Even if this doesn’t work out, I need you to know how much I regret losing you.”

I swallow hard. “You’re trying, Min Ho. That’s what matters.”

He nods, but I can tell he’s still scared.

So am I.

Day Five: The Arcade

Min Ho drags me to the arcade, his eyes full of mischief.

“Winner picks the next date,” he challenges.

We go head-to-head in basketball, air hockey, and racing games. He wins some, I win more (at least, that’s my version).

At the claw machine, he spends way too many tries before finally winning a small stuffed dog. He hands it to me, a little sheepish.

“For you.”

I hold it close, pretending it doesn’t mean anything. But it does.

Day Six: Karaoke Night

Min Ho books a private karaoke room, and I immediately regret saying yes.

“You just want to show off,” I accuse.

He winks. “Obviously.”

He belts out Love Scenario like he’s on stage, dancing like an idiot. I laugh too hard to resist when he shoves the mic at me.

“One song,” I warn.

By the end, we’re both breathless from laughing. He looks at me, eyes soft.

“I missed this,” he says.

I don’t respond. But deep down, I did too.

Day Seven: The Rooftop

Our final date is on a rooftop, fairy lights strung around us. The city glows beneath us, and for a moment, it feels like we’re the only two people in the world.

Min Ho turns to me, looking nervous for the first time. “Did I do enough?”

I exhale. “Min Ho…”

He shakes his head. “Wait. Before you say anything—I just need you to know. I love you. I never stopped.”

My heart clenches. “I know.”

He steps closer. “Do you still love me?”

I hesitate. Not because I don’t know the answer, but because I do.

“Yes,” I whisper.

Min Ho lets out a shaky breath. “Then let me be better for you.”

I bite my lip. “You already are.”

His lips crash into mine, and just like that, I know—

We’re going to be okay.

[russellsppttemplates]

Carrying it all on your shoulders (Daniel Ricciardo)

Juggling two kids without Daniel proved to be harder than you thought

Note: english is not my first language. I don't get requests for Daniel that often, and dad!Daniel is very fun and cute to write!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: reader's self-doubt and low self esteem associated with motherhood and parenting, exhaustion, curse words

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Y/N, are you sure you want to do it? I'll do it no problem", your colleague assured you, "even one of the interns can do it, Y/N! Seriously, go home earlier!", she offered.

"I can do it", you added, crossing over the task you had completed on your post it note and writing two more down, "Sophia just started her ballet class and Alice's nursery had a pantomime today so they're keeping the kids for a little longer", you winked at her, gathering the documents and getting ready to complete the task.

Lately, this was your routine. Drop the girls at school and nursery, head up to work, pick the girls up and drive home before homework, playtime, dinner time and then the bedtime routine. When Daniel was still home, it was usually him doing the school and nursery runs so it wasn't like it added a lot to your routine, but it requires more juggling than you initially thought.

By the time you finished the tasks, you were the only one left, shutting down your laptop and closing all of the doors once you had your belongings all packed into your bag, finally calling it a day and heading to your car.

Picking a very sleepy Alice from nursery and then a pouty Sophia from her ballet class, you tried your best to not bother the youngest one, "how was your class today, princess?", you wondered once you stopped at a red light, turning around slightly so you could look at your daughter's face.

"It was okay", she stated, remaining unusually quiet all the way back home as she looked outside the window.

"I'm going to put Alice down for a little nap and then I'll go and help you with your homework, okay?", you said to Sophia as she set her backpack down near her desk, "I don't have any today", she said, closing the door behind her as you walked to Alice's room, laying her down on the mattress and kissing the top of her head, feeling it warmer than usual.

"Oh, babygirl", you cooed, grabbing the thermometer from the medicine cubby and putting it on her ear, silently hoping it was just you.

A minute later, the result showed she was beggining to develop a fever. Sighing, you stored the thermometer in its box and got the medicine from your bathroom, grabbing the syringe to put it in her mouth when you managed to waker her up without a big fuss.

"I know you don't want this, baby", you cooed as Alice stirred in her sleep, big brown eyes looking up at you with tears welling up on them, "take this for mummy, okay?", you pleaded, "you'll feel better, my love", you said, holding her on your arms so she could fall asleep again.

The tiredness came over you pretty quickly, making you sit on the rocking chair, closing your eyes for a little bit and taking a deep breath. Because she was your second child, you didn't feel like the first time Sophia got sick. While in the first time, you ran around like a headless chicken, ready to bring her to the emergency room and messaging her pediatrician until both your parents' and Daniel's parents assured you and your husband you were doing just fine. So far, she didn't seem to bothered by it, just sleep, so you allowed yourself the moment to rest with her, rubbing her back and showering her with kisses and a good cuddle.

"Mummy?", Sophia asked, knocking on the door of her sister's room to announce she was coming in, "what are we having for dinner?", she asked, taking in the sight of you and her sister.

"Oh", you noted, not having given it much thought until that moment, "we can have spaghetti bolognese, I'll just have to boil some pasta - I think we still have some of those heart shapes pastas daddy brought home the other day -, or we could have some chicken nuggets and rice if you prefer that", you offered, thinking of the meal plan meals you had in the fridge as you didn't feel like cooking everything from scratch tonight.

"The spaghetti bolognese is fine", she whispered, coming closer to you and kissing her sister's hand, "is Alice sick?", she questioned.

"She has a bit of a fever, it's probably something she picked up from in nursery, you used to get these every now and again, too", you explained, brushing the curls away from her eyes, "she'll be fine though. Are you feeling okay, beautiful girl?", you checked with her, wanting to be prepared in case both kids came down with this bug.

"I feel fine", she assured you, kissing your cheek before she saw you get up and grabbing the sling, wrapping her sister against you, "do you want to help me with the pasta then?", you smiled, stretching your hand so she could grab it and you both could head to the kitchen.

"I'll set the plates", Sophias offered, making you kiss the top of her head as a thank you and going back to stirring the pasta while the sauce warmed up in another pot.

You ate the food in a quieter environment that usual, and while the reasonable voice in your head told you that it was due to the fact that everyone was a little tired, the snarky and mean one made you feel guilty.

As you washed up the pots and plates from dinner while Sophia spent some time watching cartoons on TV, your mind took you to the mom guilt feelings, rewinding back to all of the times in the last two weeks where you didn't spend time with either of them separately, all of the times where you had to rush to get out of the house all in one piece and all of the things you weren't doing well.

"Soph", you called, "I'm going upstairs to put Alice down, is there anything I can do for you before I go?", you wondered.

"Can I have your phone so I speak to daddy, please?", she asked, "he hasn't called today", she reasoned, "take it from my pocket, bub", you said, tuning your back to her slightly so she could retrieve the device from the denim material, "call me if you need anything, okay?", you checked with her, "okay, mummy! Night night, Alice, I love you", she waved at her sister who blew her a sloppy kiss.

Sitting down on the sofa, Sophia pressed Daniel's contact, smiling at the love heart on the contact despite having seen it many times before, "hey!", Daniel said, a little surprised to see the little girl's face instead of yours.

"Hi daddy!", she smiled, "mummy is putting Alice to sleep so I thought I'd talk to you for a bit", she said, "I have something to tell you".

"Oh, okay, tell me then", Daniel concerned, sensing that what your daughter wanted to tell him was something troubling her.

"I'm confused", she began, "do you remember that book you and mummy read to me and Alice? The one with the monster who is now doctor?", she tried as Daniel nodded.

Anna Llenas was one of your favourite authors for kids' stories and you always read them to your family. The way they spoke about their emotions and how to deal with them became a great tool to get them to talk openly about how they felt and Sophia seemed to be getting it.

"Yes, baby, what about it?", Daniel asked.

"I feel confused, because today I didn't really want to go to the ballet practice but I did it anyway", she said, "so I was really quiet and my friends noticed it, the teacher, too. And mummy, I think she's upset with me, too", she admitted.

"Well, do you remember what the turtle nurse did in the book?", Daniel questioned, "she had her first aid box full of things that make her heart feell warm and good", Sophia mumbled, "go and get it then, princess", Daniel urged.

Sophia pulled the box from under the sofa. The premise of the activity on the book as simple: the kids had to make a box full of things that helped them regulate their emotions and feelings when they felt confused, sad or anxious. While Alice was still too little to make one, Sophia loved the arts and crafts aspect of it and spent the whole afternoon with Daniel making her perfect first aid kit.

"Do you remember what we do with the bee drawing?", Daniel guided, "we take a big breath in, and then a big breath out", he exemplified, doing it three more times with her before speaking up again, "do you feel better?".

"I do, daddy", she said, fishing out something out of the box, "this is the pillow we made with mummy, she sewed it with my favourite soft fabrics", she smiled at the memory, rubbing it on her cheek, "and a picture of us, look!", she showed Daniel the frame with the picture of the first race Alice attended, the four of you in front of the motorhome with big smiles.

"That's right baby, we can also dance it out a little if you want", Daniel offered but she shook her head, showing him the empty bottle of medicine, "this is the 'No medicine', right?", she checked with him. The bottle was of course empty, but the idea was there.

"That's right! Sometimes we have to say no when we don't want to do some things", Daniel advised, remembering the story well enough without having the actual book in front of him, "to adults, we have to be more careful because there are things that we can't run from, but for your ballet classes, for example, you can say you don't want to go if you don't want to, sweetie", he told her earnestly.

"Okay daddy", she whispered, taking another deep breath with her finger following the wavy bee line on the drawing.

"Promise you'll tell me or mummy whenever that happens?", he asked, "I promise, daddy", she smiled, seeming calmer and happier now.

"That's great, Soph. I'm very proud of you for telling me that", he complimented, "Can I ask you about mummy, princess? Is she still upstairs?", he checked with her, not wanting her to think he didn't care about her anymore.

"Yes, daddy", Sophia smiled before pouting, "she's a little tired, and yesterday I think she was crying. I know I wasn't supposed to be up, but I forgot Snuggles by the door", she explained, mentioning her stuffed teddy that she loved to sleep with, "and when I went to pick it up, I heard mummy sniffling, she was doing it quietly but I heard it still", she told him.

Your daughter confirmed his suspicions. Before he left, you spoke about how you were going to handle two kids and your job, and while at the time it seemed good, the practical side of the conversation looked to be otherwise. He called everyday and he noticed you looking more tired each day, but he justified it on the adjustment. Eventually, there would be a day that you finally adapted to the routine, but that was wishful thinking.

"Soph, are you still on the phone with daddy?", you called from the corridor, loud enough for her to hear but quiet enough that it wouldn't disturb Alice in the sleep you worked so hard in getting her to.

"Hey, gorgeous", Daniel said as you appeared on the screen as Sophia handed you your phone back, "I'm going to get ready for bed, mummy, I'll wait for you when you can read my bedtime story", she smiled, kissing you cheek and saying goodbye to Daniel.

"How was your day?", he asked, "busy busy, but it's over now. Things are going at full speed. Sophia was a bit quieter when she arrived, but she seemed better - no need to rub it in that she's a daddy's girl -, and Alice has caught the bug that has been going around", you shrugged your shoulders, "her temperature is slowly cooling down, and other than that, she's fine", you sighed, "and yours?".

Daniel told you about his meetings, not wanting to pester you too much as he could sense the tiredness you felt, "I'll let you go rest, though. Have a good night, gorgeous", he blew you a kiss before your face disappeared.

Opening his laptop, he looked for a flight that would make him arrive just in time for school pick up, "I can't stay for the rest of the week", Daniel said to the members of the team on the meeting room, "Y/N and the girls need me back home, so if that's okay with you, we'll do these remotely", he half stated, looking for any signs of discontentment or disagreement.

As soon as he got the green light, he couldn't wait to finish that sponsorship content meeting, filming everything he needed to as quickly as possible before bidding goodbye to everyone, going back to the hotel room and pack everything up so he could go to the airport. A long flight away from his wife and kids and all would be well.

Alice didn't sleep all that well, and in turn neither did you, so you called in to work to let them know that you would be working from home as best as you could since your little girl was staying home for the day. Sophia seemed well that morning when you dropped her off at school, soothing your heart from the worries that had plagued you.

"It's me and you, baby girl", you said, kissing the top of her head as she slept on the sling, her fist grasping the fabric of your cardigan as you walked around the house, hoping to really settle her when you heard a car outside.

"Why does that look like daddy?", you mumbled out loud as if Alice could give you her opinion, focusing on the man walking up to the front door and giving you enough time to open it.

"Before you say anything, I had to do it and I won't go back", Daniel raised his hands once he set his luggage inside, closing the door behind him and kissing the top of your head and then Alice's as you stood there surprised.

"Danny, we didn't- I-", you tried, and as if your mouth wouldn't let you lie, the words didn't seem to come out of you.

"I came as soon as I could, and I should've come sooner", he said, "I want to be here for you as much as I can and I need to make sure my girls are okay - all three of them", he looked at you, "Soph told me she heard you crying", he stated as he got you to sit on the sofa in the living room.

"Another point for the greatest mother of the year award", you chastised yourself, taking a deep breath to level out your emotions.

"No, none of that", Daniel offered sternly, "you have been juggling everything on your own and it's harder that we originally thought it would be. I'm sorry it took me so long to come", he apoligised, hands undoing the sling so he could get Alice to rest against his chest instead.

"It's been a lot - and frankly, I haven't been very good at delegating at work", you chuckled, smiling at the delicious sight of a sleeping child on Daniel's chest.

"You also need the 'No medicine' Soph has in her box", he giggled despite the seriousness of the conversation, "I can see that you haven't slept all that much, so why don't you go and have a good sleep?", he suggested, "we'll talk a little bit more about this afterwards, but you need to rest first", he said, "I'll go and pick up Sophia, so you just stay here and take care of yourself, okay?", he said, tapping your butt playfully to get you to get up and head to your bedroom.

While you caught up on sleep, Daniel tidied the house as much as he could before picking up Sophia, who excitedly ran up to her father when she saw him and his sister on the parking lot, "Is mummy with you, too?", she wondered, "no, mummy is resting at home. We are going to get some food for dinner so we can all have a cosy night in, how does that sound?", he questioned, earning cheers from her and her sister who qas thankfully feeling much better, giggling in delight as she clapped her hands.

"Who's that? That's mummy, isn't she looking pretty today, Alice? Yes, she is!", Daniel said as you walked into the kitchen, Sophia's notebook open on the table as she wrote on it, "she didn't want to leave the kitchen and I wanted to make pancakes for their snacks, so we found a middle ground", your husband justified himself.

"It's okay", you smiled, kissing everyone's cheeks and tapping Alice's nose, "well, I'm glad you're feeling better, little miss", you said.

"Also, I'm in charge of dinner. I spoke to the people on your team - I'm their boss' husband so I sort of have some power too", he joked, "and they're going to delegate the work these next few days so you can stay home to rest and just work a teeny tiny little bit. I also plan on doing the school pick ups and cooking", he smiled, proud of his plans.

"I'm okay to help, too, Daniel, really", you tried, "no need for that, like I said! I'm going to take charge of the next few days, there's no reason why I can't and it's going to be great", he giggled, "we're in this together, darling, and there's no way you're carrying this all on your shoulders".

[queenendless]

ÆŁŁ ƏŸƏ§ ØŊ MƏ

A/n: This was gonna be for another series. But this idea popped up for this one instead.

Pairing: Seto Kaiba x Yami Yugi x F!Reader.

Self aware AU. Inspired by Cross Duel and Duel Links; especially plot wise. Other YGO sequel series mentioned. But mostly DM. Mainly on these two.

CW: Depression, dysphoria and dysmorphia implied, chronic ailments; based off my own issues. Brief swearing, blood, violence. But also fluff, hurt/comfort, and romance/dark romance.

You spend many a day into the late nights, wasting the hours away by watching whatever and every other thing to dash away the emptiness you have inside. Whether on the TV, your laptop, to even your phone, you get lost into the vibrant, upbeat, tear-jerking moments of your favorite media. Shows, movies, games and beyond.

Like an iconic anime on a trading card game.

Having gotten late to the party, you quickly fell for the series, the plot, and its cast. Most of all, the reincarnated Pharaoh and his fated rival for his life.

The appeal of a brand new game peaked your interest. More so a fan game. The mechanics of Duel Links paired with the 2D CG moving models of Cross Duel. An immersive app combining all the series.

While you weren't the best at such competitive games, you still found yourself enjoying the experience. With every series up to the present day. So many characters to unlock and many decks to make. You weren't good at memorizing names, though. But your top two would be your #1 priority.

Anything to help you get through the days. Your job less, disabled days. Cooped up in your room, blocking out the yelling and slamming doors and intrusive thoughts.

Focusing on their handsome faces and familiar voices kept you calm and elated as you always switched between the two throughout your playthrough.

"You're a long way from become a true duelist ... but I can see you have the interest and potential for it. Stick with me and I'll make it worth your while."

"Not to fret. Each battle helps you learn and improve. So long as I am at your side, you'll be amazed at how far you'll go. I'm looking forward to it."

Hearing their voices, seeing those beautiful faces, gave you such serotonin as you stay cooped up in your own little safe haven, escaping from the suffocating cracked home life into the YGO verse.

You spent the next few days grinding in this immersive game, your free time spent leveling up, collecting your favorite cards, and raising the trust level of your other liked favorites. Especially to see the interactions, crossovers, and more as you picked up their voices.

The surprising sight of tapping all over your screen to see their hair and attire rustle paired with such flushed alarmed expressions poking their faces.

"You've got a lot of nerve to mess with the President of Kaiba Corp ..." The sight of him flicking you followed by the immediate firm tap on your forehead made you yelp loudly, nearing dropping the phone. Seeing Seto's laughing face on screen made your strewn expression lighten. "Well deserved."

Yami's raised brow look made you look away in shame. "Pardon me, but I'm right here. There was no need for that." The firm poke to your cheek made you jump in alarm and drop your phone on your bed, gaping at Yami's chuckling face. "Now that was well called for."

It had been a week when that happened. The real world influence from the digital world held in your hand. Startled, alarmed, concerned you had to close the app and take a while to process your racing, anxious self. The app flickered from blue to red. Your phone screen glitches.

Escaping to your laptop proved fruitless. For seeing your lockscreen darken and distort yourself, only to show the cast walking and chatting along the metropolis setting of the game you just checked out of in alarm. A certain white trench coat wearing giant walked along the screen, only to stop and turn to face you. Frozen in place, you watched as he walked head on in, getting closer when he started speaking in his usual snide, sarcastic tone.

"(Username) huh? To tell the truth, Y/n sounds better to say. How do I know your name, you ask? From your account profile, obviously." The roll of those piercing blue eyes was in character. The low soft words that came after were not. "I didn't mean to scare you off earlier. I was actually starting to enjoy myself around you. You're tolerable, at best."

The tri colored star shaped head of his rival peaked out from the side, guilt laced in his features, when he came in fully. "He won't bite you, if that's your concern. But, I too apologize for alarming you. We mean you no harm, Y/n. Honest."

The uncertainty of this meta phenomenon taking place before you was mellowed out at the sight of THE rival pair acknowledging you. Pinching yourself hard to smacking your cheeks to make sure you weren't in lala land now.

Dopamine and endorphins came hand in hand as their eyes widened in astonishment at the way your entire expression lite up, covering your now squealing mouth, not wanting to draw unwanted attention from your folks, your lips curving peaking out beneath your hands. It's all real.

You spent the remainder of that night asking them anything and everything you ever wanted to tell them, curled up in bed, smiling dazedly, lost in the nostalgic fuzzy experience that is these self aware anime baes, bouncing off each other in prideful, sparky conversation. The corner of their eyes caught sight of you sound asleep, Yami smiling tenderly at the sight and Seto's eyes giving off the same aura.

The following week since that night, you felt more energized and motivated than you have in a long time. You were curious if any other fellow players experienced such a phenomenon. Being able to interact with them, actually talk to them outside the contrivances, even offline was a relief. Even your old dead TV was brought to life by the sights of the vibrant series setting; Domino City. Numbers, Dueltaining, Links, and beyond. The world of dueling was seemingly endless.

"Artificial intelligence is more real now than ever. Not to mention virtual reality. So it was only a matter of time. This game is experimental proof of that self awarness. Not all of us are that bright, though."

Joey's pinched face cameo over that comment didn't go unnoticed by as evidence by Seto's snide face. Mai dragging Joey off screen to see kisses literally flying off in the background had the CEO turn pink at the PDA.

"I'd rather glimpse into the real world to broaden my knowledge. Every single being that's connected to us gives us insight. Getting to know you Y/n has been the best experience in all of it."

Waving to Yugi, Jaden and Yusei driving recklessly on the latter's duel runner in the off distance made you crack out a laugh. The charmin smile Yami gave at the sight of your expression caught your eye, turning you a bashful pink, to which he deeply chuckled in kind.

But even you need a break every now and then. You have bad days. And by bad, it gets BAD. Constant styes or eye irritations. Circulation issues in the feet. Swollen ankles. Depression, stress and many intrusive thoughts becoming hyperactive in that tired scarred mind.

Demented suffocating folks. Dysfunctional argumentative drama. And you? Walled up in their corner, feeling years older than their actual age, self pity and self hate over this defective body. The thoughts of self made wounds made on every defective part of you brought on tears every time.

So, fights like the one you just experienced today brought tears, swelling, and the truth to light. Your own fault for believing your own flesh and blood would provide genuine professional help, for the body and mind. But all they can afford is gaslighting, dogpiling criticism. Slamming doors, holing up in your room and blasting tunes through your ear buds was your only affordable escapism.

Black, blue and red glitches overtake your phone. It all happened in such a blur. Layers of warmth swallowed you whole, brushing away those tears, as you felt your face pressed gently against such support, protectivness enveloping you.

"Now that's just bullshit. Everyone’s flawed. If you count me and my many attempts at dethroning my one and only rival myself as one, go right ahead. Point being, screw them. You're genuine. Flaws and all ... you're perfect."

"You should never feel ashamed of yourself or your appearance. You should feel comfortable in your own skin. Regardless of what others choose to believe, your own feelings matter the most. When I look at you, I see nothing but a goddess in my eyes."

Digital character gaining form in reality before you changed things. Just as soon as they were there, they were gone, leaving you fuzzy or better ... and for worse?

The rare times when you had to go out on trips or even taking walks by yourself around your area meant you waving your phone around, being their window into more of your life. Even giving a room tour meant them blushing at spotting chibi plushies of them on your nightstand; their egos rising at further proof of you being smitten with them.

Only when everyone else in your household went to bed would you go hogging up the living room couch and be on your laptop and phone to get lost in watching your movies, shows or whatever to lift your spirits. Yet these late night binges bring with them chronic headaches that would kick in during your all night bends, leaving you closing your eyes and falling sound asleep to drive off the pain on top of your flared up feet covered in cold compresses.

Your laptop flickered and buffered in distortions as whatever you were watching is halted as entities literally come out of your screen. Warmth brushed your flushed cheeks, rubbed your scalp to soothe your aches, rewarded by your hums of content, as murmurs of their names parted your lips, causing the seed of possessiveness to grow at such a rate.

"They don't deserve your tears. They don't even deserve you. None of them are worth it. Unlike them, you've always been deserving of greater and better things. And I'll make sure of it."

"Please dream sweet dears, my dear. It hurts me to see you like this. Things will get better ... they will be better ... you will not suffer alone anymore."

But all good things come to an end. And this was no exception. For there came that time when you were in so much agony, suffering to the point where you wanted the rest of your ignorant home to suffer with you. Eyes too Strained to open. Feet too swollen to walk. Even your neck and scalp were stiff in pain. Your own body fell apart and all you could do was cry in silence, stuck in bed, as you just wanted to be free of it all.

A cold storm raged outside, tipping things over the edge. Your phone vibrating and dinging with notifications were left unchecked. The various reports of disapperances over your fellow real life players and the like. The strong voices of your kings calling out to you were left unanswered as you were too still and quiet.

So they animated right out of your phone screen. The eye of Udjat glowing as the Pharaoh dealt the fatal blows. Thrown furniture exploding. Glass shattering. Ear shattering screams cut off midway. Gurgling cries of agony follow right after. Thumps hitting the floor. The tall shadow of his megalomaniac partner covered your frail weak body as he carefully took you in his arms. It was now or never.

"Seto, are you sure about this? Bringing an actual human over to our side is too risky. Her body will not survive it."

"Please. My next gen solid vision system is visionary. Finding you across dimensions, for example. Connecting others across time and space through dueling has broken boundaries. Linking the cerebrum of those that have accessed my side project app has allowed us to view everyones memories and knowledge of our counterparts in this world has expanded our reach. Sharing our energy with her shall give the strength she needs to cross over. And besides, you practically begged me to take her with us from the start."

"Don't tell me THE Seto Kaiba is jealous about sharing me with another now. As if dragging me out of the afterlife wasn't enough for you. Part of me is still wrapping around your experiment on cross dimensional expansion. Regardless if we're just avatar copies based on fiction, we're still alive. We're past the point of no return. I just hope Y/n will understand."

"Take me ... take me away from here ... please."

Your consent was the trigger. Crimson met solid hologram as their combined hold made you feel at peace at last, blue and golden energy seeping into you, falling fast asleep. The next time you woke up, all the pain left your body, replaced with such looseness. Such levity. Basking in the endless streams of code and ethereal light. The faces of many familiar characters standing about among those like you that now obtained their virtual anime counterparts.

Smothered in between such defined sturdy bodies to remind you of your situation, your heart hammered on in the blue eyed and violet eyed gazes of your two Kings gazing down at you with such fervor, pristine looking with no signs of crimson staining their attire, right before they both layered gentle kisses all over your face. Their sculpted veiny hands held each of yours, tracing your very real skin, squeezing them to assure you that this is all happening. Tears of joy filled your healthy e/c eyes and giggles filled their ears as the sight of you brimming with happiness made their own hearts tremble at the hold you have on them. And vice versa.

Reshaping the future of dueling outsides the confines of an app game takes so much work, you know. Gaining sentience and all that. And it means everything to them to have you there with them for their journey across the Yu-Gi-Oh! multiverse. Hand in hand in hand. For life. These two Kings have finally found their Queen.

"Welcome home."

[hsunrry]

online meeting // one shot

harry styles x fem!reader

summary: based on this request.

|| masterlist ||

words: ~900

warnings: smut18+, masturbation (f), dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, squirting, oral (m receiving)

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“what’re you up to?” you wrapped your arms around his neck. he was sitting on the couch with laptop on his lap. you were standing behind him.

“i have online meeting with my team, about new dates and stuff.” he mumbled, going on the facetime app. you kissed the nape of his neck few times.

“can’t it wait?” your lips brushing the skin on his neck when you’re talking. he sigh and shook his head. “please, baby.” you sucked on his neck.

“darling, i’ll take care of you after meeting, okay?” he turned his head to look at you. you pouted. he grabbed your bottom lip between his fingers and slightly pulled it. “don’t pout at me.” he smiled, grabbing the nape of your neck and pulling you for the kiss. the rest of the team started calling him on the group chat. you pulled back, going on the opposite couch. you came up with devilish idea. “hello guys.” he smiled to the camera. you quickly took off your t-shirt and since you had only this and panties on yourself, you were sitting only in your underwear now. his eyes widened at your actions, clearly didn’t knew what you’re up to. he cleared his throat and his eyes were back at his team. “so, about new dates…” he started, but quickly went back with his eyes on you, when you started touching your naked breast. “excuse me for a moment.” he said to the laptop and he muted himself from conversation. he closed it slightly so his team couldn’t see him. “y/n, that’s not funny.” he licked his lips.

“what’s not funny?” you smiled innocently, taking off your panties. you started tracing small circles on your clit, gasping. “just focus on your meeting baby, i’ll focus on myself.” he clenched his jaw at your words, because how the hell he was supposed to focus on meeting, when you were like that and his dick was already painfully hard? he unmuted himself, going back to conversation.

“sorry. what i was saying…” he went back to the call. in meantime, you laid down on the couch, pushing two fingers inside you. your free hand immediately went to cover your mouth, when with other you were pumping your digits in and out slowly. you tilted your head back with closed eyes. he’s cock twitched in his boxers at the sight. he tried to focus so hard on the meeting, but with you in front of him like that, he just couldn’t. his last straw was sight of you arching your back on this fucking couch in front of him. “i’m sorry, i have to restart the wifi router, i can’t hear you all properly. i’ll join the call in few minutes.” he ended the call and immediately went to you. he grabbed your wrist, pulling your fingers out of you. he licked them clean. “you think you’re funny?” he focused his gaze on your face, pushing his two fingers inside you. your other hand was no longer on your mouth, so you moaned. “hope you’re ready for my cock.” he pulled out his digits, taking off his sweatpants and boxers in one swift motion. he lifted you up and positioned you, so you were kneeling on the couch with your hands holding the back of it. he quickly pushed his dick inside you, not even giving you a chance to adjust. he gripped your hips, moving fast in and out. “feels fucking good, huh? bet it’s better than your fingers.” you moaned loudly at his words. he slapped your ass firmly. “answer, whore.”

“y- fuck- yes, baby.” you cried out. he grinned, moving faster. your eyes rolled back already and your grip on the couch tightened. his leg went on the couch, to give himself better position to move even faster. “H-Harry, fuck, slow down, please.” you gasped, feeling something else than regular orgasm. something new to you. “i feel like i have to pee.” you looked at him over your shoulder. his eyes darkened and he went around your waist with his hand to rub your clit.

“it’s not pee, honey. just let go for me, let yourself go, yeah?” he started to pound even faster in and out and his hand was working on your clit. your legs started shaking slightly.

“jesus christ!” you moaned, when you felt the biggest orgasm in your life. he pulled out, rubbing fast on your clit still. you almost collapsed on the couch and your juices wetted material of the couch, floor and his cock. your body was shaking and your breath was heavy. “did i just-?”

“yes, you just squirted baby.” he smiled, giving your shoulder a kiss.

“i didn’t know i can do that.” you said, sitting on the couch, being ready to suck him.

“me neither, but now that i know that you can, it’s a whole different story.” he caressed your cheek, moaning when you took him into your mouth. you started bobbing your head fast, taking almost whole of him. “so fucking good, suck me off, just like that.” he panted, holding your hair with his hand. your lips quickly took him over the edge. his hot sprouts going down your throat, making you moan around him. you swallowed, letting go of him when he calmed down. he leaned down, pecking your lips. “now go to our bedroom. i’ll quickly clean up this mess and after i’m done with meeting, we’ll do it again.”

[jromanoff]

I could ask Regina and reader are dating and reader introduces Regina to Minecraft for the first time and she's like "this game is for nerds" but she ends up liking it and they play together and they're cute

An introduction to Minecraft II R. George

Pairing: Regina George (2024) x Reader

Warning(s): none

Authors note: I had so much fun writing this, thanks for the request. Sorry for taking so long to write it though, it sent me back into my own Minecraft spiral :)

Summary: You introduce Regina (and the other Plastics) to Minecraft.

Word count: 2k

The doorbell rang. Finally. You quickly ran to the front door and found a package sitting on the doorstep. Shouting an excited “Thank you” to the delivery man who walked away, you got back inside and ran up the stairs to your room.

You bounced on your toes as you tore open the package. The label confirmed your excitement: inside was the new graphics card you ordered.

Regina, lounging on your bed, glanced up from her fashion magazine, a curious eyebrow raised.

"What's got you so hyped?" Regina asked, flipping a page nonchalantly.

"It's my new graphics card, an RTX 4090! My current one is really old," you replied, eyes sparkling as you carefut took the graphics card out of its packaging to install it.

“Nerd…” Regina mumbled, watching with curiosity as you installed the graphics card in your PC.

“All done!” you grinned and closed the case of the PC. You plugged the PC in and pushed the ‘on’ button. Within moments, the computer roared to life, the sound of fans humming filling the room. Your fingers danced over the keyboard as you started your favorite game: Minecraft.

“Woah! I have like 600 fps!” you said excitedly as you joined a server. “Oh and look at the graphics- I can even use shaders without lagging”

"I have no idea what you’re talking about, it’s-“ Regina moved to look at your screen. “You seriously play that?" Regina asked as she looked at your screen with a frown, her tone dripping with skepticism. "This game is for nerds. Well- every game is, but you get what I mean,” she rolled her eyes.

You chuckled and shrugged, unfazed. "It's actually pretty fun,” you glanced over at Regina, a playful challenge in your eyes. "Wanna give it a try?"

Regina hesitated, this game was for nerds, but she was curious. With a dramatic sigh and a roll of her eyes, she slid off the bed and approached your setup. "Fine, but only because you're so excited about it," she said, taking a seat on your lap. You smirked, Regina could never refuse a challenge.

Regina turned to look at you in your lap. “Let me show you how a real pro does it,” she said with a smirk.

You guided Regina through the basics of the game enthusiastically. To her surprise Regina found herself getting drawn into the game, she didn’t let it show, though. She already had a few ideas for what she wanted to do and build in the game and it was a good opportunity to have quality time with her girlfriend.

You noticed Regina’s small smile and her attempt to hide her enthusiasm about the game, so you made a mental note to download the game on her laptop later so the two of you could play together.

The next day after school, Regina came home to find a surprise waiting for her. You stood in front of her, holding up her laptop. It was a ridiculously expensive laptop for someone who only used it for school, its specs more than enough to run Minecraft.

“I got something for you," you said, a proud smile on your face. "Minecraft is installed and ready to go, now we can play together. I already added my server to your server list.”

Regina took the laptop, her initial reluctance giving way to genuine excitement. "Alright, let’s play then," she said with a grin.

You took your own laptop out, having Minecraft installed on both your PC and laptop so you could play at Regina’s house too. The both of you sat down at the massive table in Regina’s living room with your laptops. Mrs. George was out of town for a few days for a “mental health retreat” to a spa resort, as she called it, so you and Regina had the house to yourselves. Good for her, really.

You were the first one to log into the server, then Regina followed.

QueenBeeRegina joined the game

A smug smile appeared on Regina’s face as she saw the username that you chose for her appear in the chat. “That’s just perfect, baby. Now everyone will immediately see who’s boss on our server,” she looked over at you “Speaking of which… I decided that you’re building me a castle after yesterday.”

You looked at her in surprise “A castle? Seriously?”

Regina's eyes sparkled with determination as she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “Yes, seriously,” she said, her tone leaving no room for any protest. “I want a big castle. It needs to radiate power and elegance, just like me. You need some ambition in this server of yours.”

You glanced back at your screen, looking at the blocky, green landscape with trees in front of you. Building a castle from scratch was no small task, but just like Regina, you could never resist a challenge.

“Alright, but you have to help with the design. I’m not building you a castle just for you to blow it up because it’s not to your liking,” you conceded, meeting her gaze again.

“Deal,” Regina agreed, a playful smirk appearing on her face. “But don’t think I’m going to gather recourses and all that boring stuff. I’m more of a visionary.”

As you started to gather resources by cutting trees and mining, Regina began scouting the world for a perfect place for her castle and potentially an entire kingdom.

“This has to be the most fabulous castle in Minecraft,” Regina mused as she finally found the place to build her castle. “I want a big throne room, kitchens, chandeliers and banners. I want the whole package.”

Regina’s passionate talking about the game was absolutely adorable to you. You looked away from your game to admire her. She was focused on the screen, her brow furrowed as she was figuring out the foundation of what would soon be her castle. You couldn’t help but smile at how engrossed Regina was in the game and how relaxed she was.

“Hey,” you said softly, not wanting to break the calm and quiet that had settled over the room. “I’m glad we’re doing this together and that you’re enjoying it.”

Regina glanced at you, her expression softening as she met your eyes. “Me too,” she admitted. “I didn’t think I’d actually like this game, but… it’s kind of fun. Especially with you.”

With that, she returned to the game, her usual confidence back in place as she started issuing orders. “I need like, a lot of cobblestone, wood and probably some pink stuff for aesthetics too,”. Pink. Always the damn pink with her.

“So demanding,” you muttered, which earned you a playful glare in reply. Despite Regina’s demanding nature, there was something really attractive about seeing her take charge, even in a game.

You turned your attention back to your own screen. “I’m building a storage room here temporarily to store all the building materials, then I’ll start gathering stuff again,” you told Regina as you started building something resembling a shed.

“Good,” Regina replied, looking at where you were building in-game. “And we’ll continue tomorrow after school right?” she questioned you, trying her best to sound nonchalant.

“Yes, baby. We will.” you agreed with a chuckle, looking at your girlfriend fondly. It was a rare sight to see her so invested in something she considered to be an activity for nerds.

The next day the two of you went to Regina’s house after school again to play Minecraft. You were already logged in on your server when a message appeared in the chat.

orandge joined the game

“Uhm, baby? Who is joining our server right now? Their username is orandge,” you questioned Regina as she got the two of you something to drink. You didn’t give out the IP address of the server, so it must’ve been Regina.

“I think that’s Karen. I gifted Gretchen, Karen and Cady Minecraft so we can all play together,” Regina said excitedly as she sat down behind her laptop, logging in on the server as well.

QueenBeeRegina joined the game

“You mean to tell me that Karen managed to install Minecraft and add my server all by herself?” you looked at Regina in surprise.

Regina rolled her eyes “Karen’s just… simple. Not stupid. Surely she can install a game on her laptop on her own,” she frowned “Although… on second thought... Gretchen probably helped her.”

TheFetchest joined the game

“Well, that just confirmed my suspicions” Regina remarked as she watched Gretchen’s username appear in the chat. “She’s still hung up on making ‘fetch’ happen. So annoying,” she complained.

“I don’t know, I think her username is kinda fetch,” you replied with a smirk.

Regina shot you an unimpressed look “No.”

CadyFromKenya joined the game

“That’s the lamest name ever. She could’ve literally chosen anything else,” Regina commented with an eye roll as she saw Cady’s username.

“Be nice,” you scolded her playfully. Regina only gave you a middle finger in response.

Regina then turned her laptop towards you and opened some double chests for you to see. “I gathered some more materials last night, so we can start building.”

“I thought you were a ‘visionary’ and didn’t do resource gathering?” you teased your girlfriend with a grin.

“This was an exception, a one time thing. Gathering resources isn’t really befitting of a Queen, now is it?” Regina replied confidently with a smirk.

“You’re something else,” you shook your head in amusement, returning your attention to the game as you saw Karen type in the chat.

orandge: where are you guys???

QueenBeeRegina: I sent the coordinates in the Plastics gc

The two of you continued to build the castle as Cady, Gretchen and Karen made their way to the coordinates you were at. Karen only died twice, but that meant Cady and Gretchen had to pick her up again at the spawn twice too.

At last Regina saw Gretchen and Cady walk up to her. Cady was accompanied by well over 20 tamed wolves and two parrots on her shoulders.

QueenBeeRegina: Cady wtf

CadyFromKenya: They’re so cool right??

QueenBeeRegina: …

Suddenly, you heard a soft hiss from your game, followed by an explosion.

orandge was blown up by Creeper

orandge: oops

“Karen just let a creeper explode in my storage room,” you looked at Regina in disbelief. Regina just burst out laughing “Typical Karen.”

A part of the chests were gone and materials were scattered everywhere, including several flowers that Karen had collected in her inventory.

“Perhaps we can let Karen build the big garden around the castle, it seems like she’d like that,” you suggested to Regina as you saw the flowers she collected on her way to the castle. “Great idea,” Regina smiled.

QueenBeeRegina: Karen? You can help build the garden, just make it pretty.

orandge: yay!!! i love flowers

TheFetchest: And make sure it has a lot of pink so it fits the aesthetics, Karen

orandge: i love pink

At the end of the week the castle stood proudly on the server and Regina was satisfied with the result. Her throne room was massive, just like her throne that stood at the end of the room. She was already brainstorming new ideas for the server, the castle was just the beginning. She wouldn’t settle for anything less than a kingdom.

There were also two new additions to the server that week.

PyroLez joined the game

FierceAndFab joined the game

“Baby,” Regina started, her tone deceptively sweet, “why are they here?”

You give her a calm smile despite sensing Regina’s irritation. “I thought it would be fun. The more the merrier, right?”

PyroLez: never thought I’d see the day that the Plastics would play a video game

QueenBeeRegina: Yeah. Shut up or I’ll ban you.

FierceAndFab: you can’t ban us, that’s homophobia

QueenBeeRegina: …

Regina rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the small amused smile that creeped onto her face. “They better not mess up my castle. I swear, if they touch it it’s on you,” she looked at you pointedly. “Besides, Janis is definitely taunting me with that username,” Regina huffed.

“Probably, and it’s working,” you looked at Regina’s pouty expression. “You look adorable like that.”

“Shut up.”

You were definitely curious to see how Janis and Damian would fit into this dynamic.

[stsgluver]

𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 — gojo satoru

synopsis. libraries and gojo do not mix

wc. 1.3k

tags. rb!gojo, gojo x reader, reader is close friends with geto + shoko, gojo is described as an 'attention whore'

a/n. i might write for choso next since ive got some yuuji's older brother x babysitter ideas

series masterlist

“say it again.”

“now you’re just fishing for compliments.”

gojo’s head rested on his crossed arms as he stared up at you with those cerulean eyes that you so adored. he wore a confident grin as he shrugged off your allegations, “i’m gorgeous who wouldn’t want to compliment me?”

you scoffed, maybe a little too loudly for the student library you were currently in (they dreaded whenever you walked in with your snowy-haired boyfriend in tow since he couldn’t shut up for more than thirty seconds). “maybe someone who has three exams,” you emphasised by showing him your laptop screen with more tabs open than you could count, “in the next week and actually wants to study so they can pass.”

“my trust fund’s probably more than you could ever make working,” gojo waved a hand dismissively.

“that’s brilliant, satoru,” you deadpanned, “i’m not leeching off of you.”

“it’s not leeching, it’s love,” he said wistfully, blowing you a kiss.

you shook your head in disbelief – his parents had raised him in such a controlled environment, teaching him about his future important roles and the importance of his wealth. he’d risk it all for you and a relationship that he was not even sure was forever. well, in gojo’s mind you were forever – in his dad’s? not so much. so your boyfriend can’t exactly blame you for your hesitancy when his dad asked him at least once every week if he had broken up with you yet.

“i will never understand you.”

“but you do baby. better than anyone.” there was a sincerity in his tone, one that convinced you that he was right and you two were meant to be it for one another. he leant forward to press a quick peck on your lips, sitting himself back down far too soon for your liking. you weren’t even ashamed by how quickly he had you staring back at him with hearts in your eyes.

“this is a public space. i did not come here to see that.”

you twisted your head to see shoko grimacing with geto in tow, an unlit cigarette between her lips as she stuck her nose up at the two of you. they had just come out of their own exam and you were surprised that shoko hadn’t chosen to go and have a smoke before she met you. presumably, you took it as a sign she felt she hadn’t completely bombed out. 

pulling out the seat next to you, you excitedly gestured for your close friend to sit, having barely seen her for the last couple weeks with exams and assignment deadlines. she pushed her bag off of her shoulder, dropping down into the seat next to yours, before leaning across to steal the bag of crisps that you had next to your laptop.

“where’s my kiss, pretty boy?” geto sat down in the seat opposite gojo, an over exaggerated pout on his lips, the metal hoop on the corner of his mouth jutting out. he sent you a wink when you rolled your eyes at his usual flirting with your boyfriend. 

“see!” gojo didn’t even flinch when you elbowed him in the side because of how loud he was being. one of these days they were going to outright ban you altogether and then you would never get a moment of peace to yourself to study. “he compliments me. i wish he was my girlfriend.” 

you, again, went to hit him in the side, but this time he caught your arm, pecking your cheek quickly despite you trying to wriggle out of his gasp.

“shhh,” another student in the room hissed and gojo quietly groaned (somehow always the victim in his mind), releasing your arm and slumping down in his seat like he’d just been scolded by his mother. shoko snickered at his behaviour and the look on your face.

“can we please leave?” gojo whined a little more quietly, though not by much, resting his head on your shoulder. glancing over between the two who had just finished their exam, you let out a quiet sigh. they’d made no effort to take any materials and of their bags yet so there was no way they were going to be doing any studying now either. you were outnumbered three to one.

“depends,” you slowly closed the screen of your laptop slowly, gesturing between your boyfriend and geto opposite who raised an eyebrow. “you really want suguru to be your girlfriend instead of me? over a compliment?” you folded your arms in front of your chest, trying to not laugh as you acted serious.

geto clasped his hands together, clicking his tongue, “you hadn’t told her yet?”

gojo lifted his head from your shoulder, hesitantly glancing towards you with a grin he couldn’t hide as he (unsuccessfully) tried to shuffle his seat away from yours, “i was getting there. haven’t you seen her? she’s violent, i was scared.” 

“funny that,” you pointed a thumb at your snowy haired boyfriend, “weren’t you just offering me your trust fund?” 

that peeked shoko’s interest and she held out her hand to you, “i’ll go halfsies with you on that.”

“of course, anything for you,” you agreed, slipping your hand into hers and giving it a quick shake. shoko winked now at gojo, who’s mouth had dropped wide open at how carelessly you’d just hypothetically given away half of his money.

“woah, woah,” geto raised his hands in the air, bringing the attention back to him as hbe leant back in his chair, “this changes things dramatically. i was only ever here for the money.”

gojo gasped and stood up, overwhelmed by the consecutive betrayals, pointing an accusatory finger at his best friend, “you’re literally rich yourself. how could you use me like this?” to any random onlooker, they may have actually been convinced that he was seriously devastated by his fake mistress’ words.

“yeah but spending someone else’s money means everything’s free. i’m not asking for much, i deserve a life with no burden.” shoko stood up so she could reach across the table and give him a high five. 

gojo held out his hand, aggressively raising his fingers as he listed aloud, “i’m feeling undervalued, underappreciated, under-”

your boyfriend almost jumped out of his skin as a librarian placed a hand on his shoulder. it was almost comical at how this older woman, half the height of gojo, glared up at him. “excuse me sir, we’ve had several complaints,” though her words were formal and polite, she gritted her teeth as she spoke, narrowing her eyes at the disruptive male. if it were up to her, there’d be a large sign of his face on the door with a massive, red ‘x’ through it.

“sorry ma’am,” geto stood up and bowed his head, clearing his throat as he tried not to laugh, “we will be leaving now.” gojo nodded in agreement, slipping under the woman’s grasp and scurrying out of the room with geto close behind.

“i’m going to kill him,” you muttered, although you were still smiling as you hurriedly packed your laptop back into your bag to follow after your boyfriend. 

“all of that walking for nothing,” shoko complained as you stepped outside to see gojo and geto at the bottom of the stairs. pulling out her favourite yellow lighter from her pocket, she finally lit the cigarette she’d been teasing herself with since she’d left her exam.

once you got to the bottom of the stairs, gojo hooked his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to himself. geto stole shoko’s cigarette to take a hit, blowing out the smoke upwards before he looked between the three of you. “where to now?”

“i’m treating you all to ice cream with my hard earned money,” gojo pressed a kiss to the side of your head before lightly shoving you off of him, giggling to himself. “kidding! we’re all racing and whoever gets there last has to pay.”

taglist. @jar-03 @animeflower26 @hyori2 @ja-zz

[nickistuffs]

Design Choices

Hi, I’m back with some inspiration! As a designer in product development, this photo really resonates with me.

Pairing: Harry x Designer Reader (curvy or plus size—whatever you feel works best! This is just my preference 😌)

Summary: Harry invites you to a Pleasing meeting.

Word Count: 874

Warnings: None. Just fluff 💗

Please enjoy! I’m just doing this for fun.

✨masterlist✨ read the rest of Harry x Designer Reader there ...

Today, Harry had a meeting for his cosmetics brand, Pleasing. While getting ready, he saw his girlfriend sitting at her desk, working on designs and 3D renders for various brands vying for her talent.

He’d always wanted to add Y/N to his team of designers or do a small collaboration. However, being the shy and offline person she is, Y/N mostly kept her work to her portfolio and artworks online, with little to no social media presence. She’d told him before that she didn’t want to be seen as the girl who got work because of her boyfriend—something Harry found ridiculous since he would’ve gladly welcomed her on the team if she’d asked.

After slipping on his socks, he tiptoed to her workspace, wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and placed soft kisses on her head. Briefly, he watched her work on what appeared to be a floor plan for a coffee shop. An idea crossed his mind, one he hoped she’d be open to.

“Hey, baby. Are you busy today?”

“Uhmm, not really. I’m just finishing my files, and my meeting got moved to tomorrow. Why?” she replied while continuing to type up details and notes for her contractors.

“Well, if you’re done with that, would you like to join me in a meeting today?”

She quickly saved her file and closed her laptop, looking at Harry with curiosity.

“For… your next album?”

“No, silly! For Pleasing. We’re finalizing some packaging boxes and stickers for a new nail polish release this New Year.”

“Oh! Right, sorry. My mind’s been all over the place.”

“No worries, love. So, do you want to come?”

“Sure, but can you pack my stuff for me? I’ll just go change.”

“Go ahead. I’ll take care of it for you.”

Harry rummaged through her work bag, filled with her essentials: a pen case, notebooks, journals, sample swatches, three different types of measuring tools, and other knick-knacks she might need for meetings or site visits. Knowing her, inspiration—or a design mishap—could strike at any moment. He added her laptop and earphones to the bag just as she walked back into the room.

“Ready! Do you have my bag, babe?”

“Yup, everything’s secured. I’ll just put on my shoes, and we can go.” ...

As Harry drove them to Pleasing’s unofficial office, he broke the silence.

“Babe, thank you for coming with me today. I thought you’d say no and stay home.”

“Well, I know I’ve said I didn’t want to be part of the product development team, but I still want to support you. If going to this meeting means so much to you, I’ll gladly hop in when I’m free.”

At a red light, Harry grabbed her hand and kissed it gently. ...

When they arrived at the small office, Harry and Y/N were greeted warmly and offered coffee, pastries, and nuts. She placed her bag on the floor and settled onto the couch, her eyes immediately drawn to the sparkly, hot-pressed foils on the PR boxes inside a nearby cardboard box.

“You can touch them if you like,” said Harry’s head designer.

“Thank you. Harry, may I?”

“I know you’re dying to feel it, love. Don’t let me stop you.”

Harry smiled at her excitement as she examined the new products Pleasing had created. He silently observed her body language, sweating a little as he hoped nothing was out of place—knowing how detail-oriented she was.

“These are so nice. The feel is great. Do you have options where the box is fully foiled or mixed with matte finishes for texture variety?”

A sigh of relief escaped Harry’s lips as he saw her getting into her element.

“Yeah, we have all of that here,” the head designer replied. “Here are the inserts, the bottles, and other packaging we’ve printed, along with the initial samples, if you want to try them.”

They laid everything out on the table. Y/N immediately locked eyes with Harry.

“These are amazing! The supplier you got is really good. You have to tell me who they are!”

Harry chuckled at her enthusiasm.

“It’s a secret, love. I can’t reveal that to the competition. I might even ask the team to whip up an NDA before you leave.”

The three of them laughed at Harry’s joke, but soon the meeting shifted into a more serious tone. Work began in earnest, with Harry choosing his preferred designs, giving feedback, and discussing limitations and options with the team.

Meanwhile, Y/N started snapping photos of Harry looking serious, as well as top-down shots of the table and the stickers he was pointing to.

**“What do you think, love?” Harry asked.

“Sorry, I was distracted. Can you say that again, babe?”

“I asked if we should add another color to the collection, or if this is enough?”

“Well, is it in your budget? I thought you already finalized a color story. Adding another might confuse the supplier if it’s a last-minute change. I’d recommend saving it for your next release or an expansion of the range, maybe with a different collaborator.”

Harry nodded, impressed by her quick, thoughtful response. He felt a surge of pride, knowing he was in a relationship with someone as brilliant and passionate as she was. ... Thank you so much for reading! I have more in store and might write again soon. See you! 💗

[dumbandowned]

Today I needed to get things done. These things were giving me a lot of anxiety, even though they seemed relatively simple. Go over my resume, take care of some healthcare stuff. All easily done at a laptop, but I just couldn't handle the idea of it without panicking. So, Owner decided to play a game.

I was bent over the bed while he teased my asshole with his fingers, using the dripping from my cunt to lube it up. Then he pushed a plug in, and I hadn't really stretched that hole since he had last fucked it. The sudden stretch and pop was painful and I tried to jerk away from him, but his strong hands held my hips. "Oh, it couldn't hurt too bad. You just sucked it in." Owner said softly, fingers running over my thighs as he turned the vibrating plug on. My face burned, and I buried it with a hood up to cover my face.

Before the pain could entirely subside into pleasure, the vibration was turned off. Owner pushes me over and tells me to sit up before handing me my laptop. My hole clenches around the plug, wishing the sweet low hum of vibration would return. He sits next to me, remote to the plug filling my needy hole in hand, and tells me to get to work.

I have a hard time focusing, the stretch of my hole on the forefront of my mind. Between the desperate need to be Owners good puppy, and my puppy holes begging to be bred, any anxiety or stress about the tasks were forgotten. With each finished task marked off the to-do, I earned a few moments with the plug turned on. As I finished the last task, my Owner groped my tits, and as I finally got to close all my tabs, he twisted my hard and sensative nipples which left me shuddering and forced a moan from my lips. He got out of bed and turned the plug onto the highest vibration, before saying he had his own tasks to finish.

I couldn't stop myself. As soon as he left the room I spread my legs. I tugged on the plug to feel the aching stretch, using my other hand to start stroking my tcock. I was so close when the door opened and Owner asked what I was doing. I looked at him from my spot on the bed, mouth open and gasping softly as I had tried not to make too much noise.

Owner got a devious look on his face and flipped me over. He pulled the plug from my hole, quickly replacing it with the tip of his thick cock. I arch my back, high pitch moan coming ftom deep within my chest. His first thrust feels so deep, but I'm forced to remember just how big my owners cock feels in my tight puppyholes on the second thrust. I can feel my stomach nearly buldge when he forces his whole length into me on the second thrust.

Drool ran down my chin as he started to pound into my asshole. My brain instantly overloaded with how long I was being edged. I spread my legs further, bouncing back on his cock like a proper breeding bitch to take his seed, but my legs begin to tremble and he still doesnt stop.

Then, he hands me the vibrator.

"Go on, be a good puppy for me. Don't take it off until I say you can."

My empty puppycunt is dripping, desperately wanting its womb filled, but my owner keeps fucking into my asshole. He fucks it even harder when the vibrator nearly immediately brings me to orgasm. I try to get away, but he pins me down. Overstimulation brings tears to my eyes and I can feel the tip of his cock hitting deep on my guts even long after he cums. I'm shaking, thighs squeezing shut desperately, trying to stop the body shaking orgasms.

He pins my face into the bed, slamming his hips into my limp body while my cunt keeps drooling, ignored, clenching. He pulls out as he forces me into an orgasm that forces a scream out of my weak form. Then before its even finished, he forces his full 9 inches in again. It forces me to cum from my ass all over again, squirting this time, and he fucks me as I cannot stop cumming. My tiny little tdick twitching as my puppycunt weeps for the breeding that my loosened asshole.

Tears stream down my face as the back to back orgasms rip through my body. I scream, hes thrusting so deep and filling me so much that head deep full length thrust forces it out of me. He starts to slow down as I sob softly, body shaking, but my hips still try to rock against his cock until he will empty his balls into my holes again.

He covers my mouth and fucks me so violently all I can do is sob and plead, saying hes too big, I can't handle any more.

His response?

"But look, you're cumming again. I thought you couldn't take any more? Why are you lying?"

When hes done stretching my asshole with violent fucking, my face is in a puddle of tears and spit. He slides out and I can't stop shaking and whining at the empty feeling. My guts hurt. Yet... as he pulls me close, his chest against my back, I spread my gaping hole so he can slip back in. Plugging my puppyhole so his cum doesn't drip. I find myself grinding back against it, teasing my cock and puppycunt with my fingers, slowly as he gropes my tits i bring myself to a final slow orgasm before finally shutting down totally in my owners arms.

I love when I get to be his desperate and good puppy.

[smilingformoney]

Rickmas Day 5: Open Doors

Character: Eli Michaelson (Nobel Son) Relationships: Eli x reader Warnings: smut, student/teacher hookup

Read on Ao3 or below:

You closed your laptop with a sigh. You’d tried pretty much every spot on campus you could think of, but everywhere was crowded and noisy, and you just couldn’t focus. You left the study hall with your laptop under your arms, trying to think of where you could go to get your coursework done. You needed somewhere quiet, somewhere no one would disturb you - preferably somewhere with a lock.

As you wandered through the halls of the college, you passed through the science block, and an idea struck you. It was a long shot, but you thought you might as well give it a go.

You found your Chemistry professor’s office door and knocked. After a few moments, the door swung open to reveal a frowning Dr Michaelson.

“Office hours are over,” he said shortly. He hesitated, though, looking you up and down thoughtfully. “…I might make an exception, though. What do you want?”

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Dr Michaelson, and I know this is gonna be a real cheeky ask…”

Dr Michaelson raised an eyebrow curiously and leant against the doorframe, his arms folded.

“I’m tryna do my math homework but everywhere on campus is so busy, I can’t focus. Is there any chance I could just sit in the lab to do my homework?”

“And risk knocking something over?” Dr Michaelson scoffed. “No chance. But… you could work in here.”

That took you aback.

“Really? You wouldn’t mind?”

“Sure. Just keep the noise down, would ya? I got my own work to do.”

Dr Michaelson stepped back and opened the door, gesturing for you to come in.

“Wow, thanks, Dr Michaelson, I really appreciate it. I owe you one.”

You said this as you walked into the office, so you didn’t see the hungry smirk that teased at the corner of your professor’s lips when he heard that.

“Not a problem at all, [Y/n]. Anything my students need. Here - lemme make you some space.”

He gathered up some of the papers strewn over his desk to make some space, then pulled a chair around for you. You thanked him again as you sat at his desk next to him.

“Now, don’t go telling everyone they can do this,” Dr Michaelson said firmly. “This is a one time thing, you hear? You caught me in a good mood.”

You mimed zipping your lips closed. Dr Michaelson smiled, then turned back to his own work.

You opened your laptop and loaded up your math homework again. Finally, you were able to concentrate. You liked having company when you studied, but not the obnoxiously loud company that Stanford seemed to be full of today. It was nice having Dr Michaelson for company, because he didn’t disturb you, and you were able to really focus on your homework.

Although he was mostly quiet, you did hear Dr Michaelson grumble under his breath sometimes. After the third “fuck’s sake” from him, you had to glance over.

“Something wrong?” you asked with amusement.

“I hate computers,” Dr Michaelson replied with a grumble as he hit the backspace button aggressively. “It keeps telling me I’m spelling Musettamycin wrong.”

You peered over at the screen, where his word processor had put a red squiggle under ‘Musetamycin’.

“It has two Ts,” you said.

Dr Michaelson frowned at you. “I think I know how to spell Musettamycin, [Y/n]. I am a Nobel Laureate.”

“Yeah, in Chemistry, not English.”

He narrowed his eyes, then stood up and grabbed a book from his shelf. He flicked through the pages, apparently found what he was looking for, and quickly put the book back on the shelf.

“Well done. You passed my test.”

He sat back down and added an extra T, and the red line promptly disappeared. You giggled.

“Do I get extra credit?”

Dr Michaelson looked at you thoughtfully.

“You get one chance for my help with your math homework.”

“Who says I need help?”

Your professor scoffed.

“You’re smart, [Y/n], but you ain’t that smart. You’ll need it,” he said confidently.

He turned back to his work, and you to yours - and, sure enough, eventually you came across a problem you just couldn’t solve.

“Alright, I admit it, I need help.”

Dr Michaelson leaned back in his chair with a triumphant grin.

“Well, well, well…”

“Stop!” you laughed. “Are you gonna help me or not?”

Dr Michaelson sighed dramatically. “Well, there are drawbacks to being a Nobel Laureate, I suppose. Everyone thinks you know everything - which I do. Come on, then, let’s have a look.”

He scooted his chair closer to yours to look at your screen.

“Oh, that’s easy. You gotta find a substitution to simplify it. Look at the denominator - what kind of substitution d’you think you need?”

“Uhm…”

Your mind went blank for a moment when you felt Dr Michaelson’s breath on your cheek. You realised suddenly that he’d scooted very close to you. He had one arm on the back of your chair, while with his other hand he pointed at one of the integers on your screen.

“Oh, er… trigonomic, right?”

“Good girl,” said Dr Michaelson, and you felt a strange shiver run across you, like he’d said some secret code to make you blush. He glanced at you, clearly noticing your reaction, and smirked.

“So… choose a substitution.”

He spoke softly, as if he were talking about something very different.

You cleared your throat and went to write out a substitution, trying not to get distracted by how very close to you he was. Dr Michaelson pulled his hand away from your screen… and rested it on your knee.

You could feel his gaze burning into you as you wrote out your workings, and when you paused, he glanced back at your screen.

“Good. Now, rewrite it in terms of theta.”

You weren’t sure how you were supposed to do that when his hand was still on your knee… or when it began moving up your leg, his fingers grazing your inner thigh. Was your Chemistry professor seriously coming onto you right now?

“Good girl… so smart,” Dr Michaelson muttered in your ear. “I don’t think you need my help at all… you just wanted some attention, huh?”

You could feel your heart racing. Your cheeks were burning red, but it just seemed to spur him on.

“Is it really all that busy on campus, [Y/n]? Was I really your only option for some peace and quiet? I don’t think so…”

“I, um… I remembered you said the lab stays locked…”

Dr Michaelson chuckled, his deep voice reverberating in your ear.

“Mmm, and you wanted to get me behind a locked door, is that it?”

“N - no, I…”

You gasped as Dr Michaelson reached the top of your thigh, but instead of stopping, he just kept going, his large hand suddenly cupping your crotch firmly through your pants.

“It’s bad form to lie to your professors, [Y/n],” he whispered. “I could report you for academic misconduct, you know.”

He stroked you with his fingers, and even through the fabric of your clothing, it sent a tingling feeling right to your core.

“Dr Michaelson…”

“Call me Eli.”

“Eli… how do you know I won’t - ah!” - another squeeze from him - “won’t… report you for this?”

He smirked.

“Are you telling me you don’t want it, [Y/n]? Say you don’t want it and I’ll stop.”

He continued caressing your crotch, his fingers dancing dangerously close to your zipper.

“It’s… it’s bad form to lie to my professors,” you said, stealing a glance at him. His pupils were wide with lust, his confident smirk on his lips just begging to be kissed.

Eli chuckled.

“Smart girl.”

He unzipped your pants and slipped his hand inside, causing you to let out a high-pitched whine.

“Wet already?” he teased, his fingers exploring your folds as you tried to keep your lips closed tight, lest you cry out a little too loud and be heard in the corridor. “My, you are an eager little thing, aren’t you?”

He pushed two fingers between your inner folds, digging deeper into the wetness that was pooling between your legs. You bit your lip, your eyelids fluttering, and let out another whine when Eli’s fingertip found your sweet spot.

“You need to simplify the expression,” he murmured in your ear as his finger circled your clit.

Your eyes fluttered open, confused.

“I - huh?”

Eli nodded towards your computer screen. “Simplify it, then integrate with respect to theta. Then your integral will be straightforward.”

What the fuck was wrong with him?

What the fuck was wrong with you, for that matter?

He stopped his movements very suddenly, and you whined in frustration.

“Go on. Show me how clever you are.”

You tried to clear your mind and focus on the expression on your computer screen, but you were far more interested in the finger that was now circling your clit again, spreading your wetness around as you tried to remember what numbers were.

“Good girl,” Eli said again. He’d clearly figured out how weak you were to those words, and he was using them to his full advantage. “What do we do next?”

Finger me, you thought.

“Substitute back to x,” you said.

“Go on, then. You can finish it from here.”

As your fingers moved across the keyboard, his fingers moved down through your folds, and pushed at the entrance to your pussy.

“One more step. Go on.”

You cried out as his fingers slipped inside you, but you kept going, willing your mind to try and think about stupid numbers at a time like this.

“Root over four minus x squared,” you said aloud, trying to ignore the way Eli’s fingers were crawling deeper inside you, reaching out to find your G-spot.

“And then - ah! - plus C.”

You sighed with relief as you finished your answer.

Eli smirked.

“See? You didn’t need my help with math. But I do think you needed my help with this, didn’t you?”

The hand that was on the back of your chair reached around to slide under your arm and grab your breast through your t-shirt as he began pumping his fingers harder inside you. You moaned.

“You like that, huh? You like getting fingered by your professor?”

“Y - yes,” you admitted. “It feels so good…”

“You think this is good? Just wait ‘til you feel my cock… you’ll be coming back every day on the pretence of needing help with homework, but really you just need my cock.”

You let out a moan of his name, which seemed to spur him on, as he began fingering you more aggressively, his other hand pawing at your breast, as if he were resisting tearing your clothes off to get straight to your flesh.

You grabbed onto the arm of your chair to steady yourself, and with your other hand, you reached over to Eli’s lap to cup his hard length beneath his trousers, and you couldn’t hide your reaction when you felt how big he was.

“You want it, huh? You want my cock, [Y/n]? Go on, tell me you want it… all you have to do is ask…”

“P - please, Dr Michaelson,” you panted. “I need your cock. Please - please, fuck me on your desk…”

Eli groaned, overwhelmed with arousal at your words. He withdrew his hands from you, then grabbed you by the waist and pulled you onto his lap. Your lips connected with his instantly, his arms wrapped around your torso, and you could feel his rock hard erection straining through his trousers, rubbing against your own far too clothed crotch.

He was a sloppy kisser, seemingly trying to get as much of his saliva in and around your mouth as possible. You reached down to unbuckle his belt, and he groaned with relief when some of the pressure on his cock was relieved.

“Fucking hungry little minx,” Eli growled as you fumbled with his belt. “Bet you’ve been dreaming about this, haven’t you? Fingering yourself to the thought of me… mhm, I know you have. Go on, get those damn pants off.”

He pushed you off his lap, and you obediently pushed your pants and underwear down past your knees, kicking them off along with your shoes while Eli finished opening his fly and pulled his cock out from underneath his boxers.

He hummed with satisfaction as he looked at you, pulling languidly on his cock as he took in the view of you, naked from the waist down, your pussy soaked and ready for him.

Oh, he had definitely found his new plaything.

Well, he’d better test her out.

He got to his feet and kissed you again, his cock brushing against your skin, his lips parting from yours only to pull your t-shirt over your head. He grinned when he saw the lacy bra you were wearing.

“Someone had a plan when she got dressed this morning,” he said smugly. “Did you decide to seduce your professor this morning or were you already planning it last night?”

“I like to wear this sometimes,” you admitted. “It makes me feel confident.”

“Mmm, and damn right too… God, those tits are so fuckable. Maybe another day, hm? I promised you my cock and you’re gonna get my cock. It’s what you deserve for being such a smart girl. Now - on the desk.”

You obediently hopped up onto the desk, perched on the edge, but Eli placed a firm hand on your shoulder and pushed you onto your back. You could feel papers sliding around beneath your back, and you had to push aside a stapler that was digging into your shoulder, but something about getting fucked by Dr Eli Michaelson on his work was incredibly hot.

“Look at you, fucking hell,” Eli growled as he rolled a condom he’d pulled from a drawer down his shaft. “You’re gonna get your slutty pussy juice all over my papers. Ah, well.”

He entered you with one fluid motion, causing you to cry out in surprise as his cock pierced your cunt, sliding easily up your walls, stretching them out with a delicious burn that sent your pleasure receptors wild.

Eli kept a firm grip on your thighs as he thrusted into you, groaning with abandon and no apparent care for who might be walking by.

“God, I fucking needed this,” he moaned. After his wife had left him and his last plaything graduated, he’d been going through a frustrating dry spell. And now here you were, presenting yourself at his office with your low-cut top and your tight little ass. It was too good an opportunity to pass up.

“Oh, fuck - fuck, Dr Michaelson, that feels so good…”

He smirked proudly at your moans. He knew just how good he was at fucking, but he still loved to hear it.

“Your cunt’s full of my cock, [Y/n]… I think we’re on first name terms now.”

You laughed, which quickly turned into a groan of surprise when Eli pushed your thighs back further, spreading your pussy out for him as his hips pummelled into your flesh.

“How long have you wanted this, [Y/n]?” Eli asked. “Did you walk out of my first lecture with soaking wet panties? Or did it take you a few lectures to realise how badly you wanted my cock?”

“I - I always thought you were handsome,” you admitted. “Ever since I - ah! - saw your picture in the paper when you got your Nobel Prize. I saw you worked at Stanford and - oh! - applied for my postgrad here.”

Eli grinned, his ego swelling as much as his cock.

“You applied here just so you could fuck me?”

“No!” you insisted. “I was gonna go to UCLA, but I thought - mhm - if I came here instead, I could study under a - ah! - a Nobel Laureate - fuck!”

Eli picked up his pace, fucking into your cunt furiously, the stroking of his ego sending a fresh wave of lust over him.

“Mmm, now look at you - you’re certainly under me now, huh?”

The desk was shaking violently, papers flying everywhere, and you heard the crash of a pen pot falling to the floor. Neither of you paid much mind to it.

“I might just have to schedule some one to one tutoring with you, [Y/n]… since you went to such lengths to be under me. Would you like that?”

“Y - yes,” you panted, your voice straining as you felt pleasure coiling inside you. “I think that would be - ugh - beneficial… fuck, Eli, I’m gonna cum…”

“Mmm, yes, cum all over my cock,” Eli growled. “God, look at you… fucking magnificent… and all mine…”

He released one of your legs from his grip to press his thumb against your clit, and as soon as he began rubbing circles around the swollen bundle of nerves, you knew you were done for.

“Yes… yes… Eli…”

“Fuck, [Y/n], I’m so close… I’m gonna cum so fucking hard…”

His moans increased, his thumb rubbing your clit and his cock furiously fucking into your cunt, and combined with the look of unadulterated pleasure on his face, you felt yourself tipping over the edge, and you cried out his name as you came, your legs twitching and your cunt gushing around his cock as your orgasm overwhelmed you.

Feeling you cum around his cock was the last straw for Eli, and he moaned loudly as he came too, filling the condom with his seed as he continued fucking you through his orgasm, hips stuttering erratically as he came inside a cunt for the first time in far too long, and such a warm, tight one too.

Eli stayed buried inside you for a few moments as his movements stilled and you both caught your breath. Then, he pulled out of you with a loud squelching sound, and passed you a box of tissues to clean yourself up.

“Fuck, that was so good,” he panted as he pulled the spent condom from his cock and deposited it in the bin.

You mumbled what sounded like “uh-huh” in agreement, your mind still addled from the pleasure as you tried to mop up as much as you could from between your legs.

When finally you’d managed to locate your clothes and get them back on, Eli was sitting back in his chair, watching you with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Well, I’d certainly give you an A for that,” he said proudly.

You laughed.

“What, am I majoring in sex now?”

“If you did, you’d be top of the class.”

He passed you your laptop, which thankfully hadn’t been damaged by your escapades.

“So… reckon you need some one-to-one tutoring?”

You blushed under his intense gaze, his eyes still staring at you hungrily.

“If you think I need it, Professor,” you said coyly.

Eli grinned and reached around to give your ass a squeeze.

“My door’s always open for you, [Y/n].”

[lincolndjarin]

constructive criticisms

main masterlist ✧ kinktober masterlist ✦

kinktober : day two - afab!ficauthor!reader x javier peña

prompt : virginity loss [ 18+ mdni ]

word count : 5.1 k

summary : javier peña has been a thorn in your side for months, the last thing you need is for him to find out you write dirty fanfiction

warnings, etc. : language, fluff, smut, protected sex, p in v sex, oral m!recieving, fingering, mutual masturbation, viginity loss (duh), innocence kink sorta, squirting, reader is completely clueless when it comes to sex, javier is a dumb sweetheart in this, plot w a little porn lol

a/n : yippee! this is an idea ive had floating around for a bit and this seemed like a good opportunity to do it! easily the longest of the kinktober stuff lmao which is why i didnt want this to be day one cause i didnt want to set a precedent haha. also i hate this but it's october so like i can't do much about that lmao. AND the edit was rushed bc i gotta get to work so apologies for any errors!!

  “What’s that?” You slam your laptop shut the moment you hear his voice. 

“Nothing.” You hadn’t heard him come into your office yet here he is, looming over your shoulder. 

“Didn’t look like nothing.” You can’t stand the mocking smile on his face. 

“Did you need something?” You do your best to sound patient. 

“I’ve got some suspect photos I need you to identify.” He’s still grinning from ear to ear as you hold your hand out for the file. You flip through the pictures before tossing them onto the pile of paperwork you’ve been trudging through. You’re waiting for him to leave but he just stays in place behind you until you spin around in your chair. 

“Is there something else?” You cross your arms in front of your chest, glowering at him. 

“What were you working on?” For god's sake, drop it. 

“Get out of my office Peña, or I won’t process your suspects.” Thankfully that gets him to leave, sighing as he closes the door behind him. Once you’re sure he’s not coming back you open your laptop again, quickly closing out your tabs. 

The last thing you need is for Javier fucking Peña to read your Star Wars fanfiction. 

He makes your life hell around the office enough as is. He makes fun of how you dress, he only ever asks you to file his paperwork, (despite the dozen others who are just as capable.) and you’re pretty sure he stole your lunch one time. He’s just in general a nuisance. (And it doesn’t help that he’s gorgeous and knows it.)

It’s not like you’re ashamed of your writing, you’ve mentioned it in passing to some of your friends around the office but Javier is different. He gives you enough grief without knowing how badly you wanna fuck Anakin Skywalker, you can’t imagine how much worse thing would get if he found you’re writing. 

So you get back to work, trying to forget the interaction entirely. 

You like to work late on fridays, it makes things easier, you don’t have to come in early on monday and no ones around to bother you while you work. You’re just about done with everything as you gather up all the finished documents, going from empty office to empty office as you leave the respective papers on each person's desk. 

You’re nearly done, you’ve just got Javier’s suspect list to deal with as you step into the bullpen to deliver it you’re surprised to see him still sitting at his desk, everyone else is gone, only his desk lamp and computer monitor light the large room. You approach quietly, wanting to get this done as quickly as possible so you can just go home. You’re about to clear your throat to get his attention when you freeze in place. 

You recognize the website he’s on. 

You’d know that red bar anywhere. 

There’s no fucking way. 

You feel your face getting flushed, a deep shame settling in your stomach as you take another step forward just to be sure.

Archive of Our Own beta

And just below that, the name of your favorite song, but more importantly, the title of your fanfiction. 

You’re so fucked. 

You feel a mess of angry tears starting to pool in your eyes as you hear him groan. 

That somehow hurts worse. 

Not only is he reading it, but he also thinks it’s so bad he’s audibly expressing it. You’re livid, and humiliated, you should spend this weekend looking for a new job because he’s about to become insufferable. Knowing him, everyone will know about it before you even get in on monday.

In your rage you walk forward noisily, tossing his files down onto his desk, turning, planning on glaring at him once before leaving, hoping he doesn’t see how truly upset you are. 

Nothing could have prepared you for what you’re met with. You’re expecting a smirk or maybe even a look of disgust, instead he’s gritting his teeth, his hair sticking to his forehead, a visible sheen of sweat on his face and most prominently, his hand haphazardly shoved down the front of his pants. 

You both realize the predicament you’re caught in at the same time. You stare way too long. Eyes lingering on the exposed skin where his shirt rides up, a trail of hair running down his naval. Neither one of you moves until you finally snap out of it, squeezing your eyes shut and turning on your heel, walking as quickly as possible towards the exit when you hear the squeak of his chair on the floor as he calls out your name. You don’t dare turn around though, not slowing your pace until you’re out of the building and in your car. 

Thankfully he doesn’t pursue you further as you drive home as quickly as possible. Hands tightly gripping the wheel the entire time. You can see your phone blowing up in your bag, the inside dimly lit the entire length of the drive. When you pull into your apartment building’s parking lot. You grab your bag and hurry inside, desperate to just go to bed and forget everything that just happened, ignoring the throbbing between your legs from what you just witnessed. 

You step inside your studio, locking up behind you as you toss your bag onto the bed, shedding your clothes and stepping into the bathroom, praying that a cold shower will clear your head. 

It doesn’t. 

You feel just as hot and frazzled as you did before. Maybe he was just trying to mess with you. If that’s the case then now he’s just sexually harassing you. 

Stupid fucking Peña. 

You pull a tank top over your head and throw on a pair of panties before collapsing on your bed. You don’t want to look but you won’t be able to sleep if you don’t, so you reach into your bag, retrieving your phone. 

Just as suspected you have an endless amount of messages from the man himself. You're about to start scrolling through them all when you read the most recent one. 

[ I’m coming over. ] 

Son of a bitch. 

You quickly scroll through the previous messages. 

[ I’m sorry, are you okay? ]

[ Call me or I’m coming over. ]

[ Please just text me back. ]

[ I really liked your story. ]

[ I’m sorry. ]

There’s about a hundred similar messages but one stands out to you more than anything else. 

He liked your story. 

Why does that make your face burn up?

You start typing, telling him that he doesn’t want to find out what’s gonna happen if he shows up but you’re interrupted by a knock on your door. You trip over yourself as you rush to your dresser, pulling on a pair of sweatpants before peering through the peephole. 

Sure enough, there he stands, he looks exactly like you’d left him, shirt untucked and askew, hair a mess, except now his hand isn’t in his pants. You’re about to reach over and turn your lamp off when he clears his throat. 

“I know you’re in there, your car was out front.” Well, so much for pretending you aren’t home. You hesitantly unlock the door before pulling it open, plastering a scowl on your face. 

“What do you want?” You try to look stern but you know you probably just look nervous. 

“I just wanna talk.”

You’re hesitant but you open the door fully, letting him in as you return to your bed, sitting and pointing at the loveseat in the corner for him. Neither one of you speaks, you watch as his throat bobs, he won’t look at you, staring at his hands instead. 

“How did you get my address?” You finally break the silence. 

“Your file.” He says sheepishly. 

“You can’t do that! That’s an invasion of my privacy!”

“That’s what you wanna be mad about?” Fair enough. 

“Fine, why did you do it?” You don’t like that he’s here, in your tiny apartment, the memory of him splayed out in his chair takes up all the space.

“Which part?” He finally looks up at you, meeting your gaze. 

“Why did you read it?” 

“I was curious.” He looks truly apologetic, it almost makes you want to believe him.

“Really?” Your tone drips with sarcasm. 

“You seemed really defensive, I wanted to see why.” It seems genuine but you know better. 

“You wanted to embarrass me.” You say plainly. 

“Why do you act like I’m out to get you?” His brows furrow and his mouth settles into a frown. 

“Because you are.” You say it matter of factly, you honestly can’t believe he’s acting like he doesn’t know. 

“I don’t understand what I did that makes you hate me so much.” You’re tempted to soften your gaze, but the last thing you need to do if this is all just some trick is appear vulnerable. 

“You can’t be serious.”

“Please, enlighten me.” He throws his hands up in exasperation. 

“You despise me! You torment me every single day!”

“Really? I torment you?” He points an accusatory finger in your direction. 

“You make me do your paperwork every single time, even when there are plenty of other people who are capable of it.” You feel the urge to stand and have this argument, you’re getting heated in several ways now. 

“You do it better than everyone else.” He shrugs like it’s a valid excuse. 

“Bullshit.” You snark as he puts his head in his hands.

“And I like the excuse to see you.” He mumbles before looking back up at him.

“You make fun of how I dress.” You’re quick to change the subject, not wanting to fall victim to his charms. 

“I do not.” His voice pitches up defensively. 

“You said I dress like your grandma.”

“That was a compliment.” He can’t be serious.

“How the fuck is that a compliment?”

“I love my grandma very much.” He sounds serious. 

“You’re a nightmare.” You fall back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, your head swimming with confusion. 

“Have you ever considered that I just wanted to be around you? You assume that I just liked to bother you but maybe I just like being near you.” He stands as you sit up, a look of honest upset on his face. 

“You expect me to believe that you did those things because you like me? Are we in middle school, Peña? You could have just asked me out instead of pulling my pigtails on the playground.” You stand, not liking the power imbalance of having him towering over you where you sit. 

“I did, you said no.” He crosses his arms and you scoff. 

“You did not, you can’t just make things up to get out of this conversation.” You poke a finger into his chest but he just brushes it away. 

“I asked you out to lunch two weeks ago and you said no.”

“I think I would remember that if it happened.” His anger fizzles out a bit as he looks you up and down. 

“I may or may not have thrown your lunch out that day so you’d be more likely to accept.” He gives you a sheepish look. “But you were so mad you brushed it off.”

“That was a serious offer? I thought you were messing with me.” He just stares at you, wide puppy dog eyes you have to turn away from lest you fall for this act. You don’t get a moment's rest though because as you stare at the floor a particularly harrowing thought crosses your mind. 

“How much did you read?” You turn back to him quickly. 

“Enough.” When you turn back to him he’s staring at his hands again. 

You both know what that means. 

“It seemed a little familiar.” He says softly. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You want him out, now.

“Don’t play dumb, you know what I’m talking about.” You’re going to look at job listings once he goes home. 

“I think you should leave.” You clear your throat, nodding towards the door. 

“I’m not leaving until we talk about it.” 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You sit back down on your bed, your legs feeling unsteady. 

“Well I do.” He takes a few steps in your direction and you immediately regret sitting. 

“I don’t care what you want, get out of my apartment, now.” You head is tilted up completely as you glare at him.

“Do you really not realize exactly what is happening here?” You can feel his breath on your face, cigarettes and spearmint. You turn your head to the side, refusing to look at him. 

This is exactly what happens in your story. 

“You’re an idiot.” You whisper, willing yourself not to get any more upset than you already are. 

“You wrote your story about us.” He says each word sharply as you grit your teeth. 

“I did not.” Now who’s just making things up to get out of a conversation?

“Everything that I did to you, he does to her.”

You don’t have a response to that. What are you supposed to say? He’s right, straight down to the confrontation where he tells her he wants her and she tells him that can’t be possible. He hates her. 

He kneels in front of the bed, moving to be in your eye line and when you go to turn your head he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. 

“I really did like your story.” You shove his hand away as he says it.

“Don’t mock me.” 

“Jesus, what do I have to do to make you realize I don’t have an ounce of contempt for you?” He stands, throwing his hands up in defeat.

You finally snap. 

“Maybe stop taking my shit and stop giving me extra work and stop invading my privacy and just fucking talk to me like an adult, you arrogant, immature, son of a-“ He grabs your face in both of his hands as he leans down and crashes his lips against yours, you let out a surprised squeak as he cups your jaw. After a moment he pulls back and you’re left staring at him dumbfounded. 

“Now, can we please talk about it?” He mumbles before pulling you in again for a single chaste kiss. 

“Okay.” You feel a little breathless at the abruptness of his actions. 

“I really liked it.” He smiles now, the energy in the room changing drastically. 

“You keep saying that.” You whisper.

“It’s true.”

“Wanna give me some constructive criticism?” You laugh but you can see his eyes flicker to the ceiling quickly and suddenly you want to press further. 

“You know you quoted me word for word a couple of times.” 

“You’re avoiding the question.” You laugh again but now you’re genuinely curious. 

“I guess I thought the sex scenes were the tiniest bit unrealistic.”

“Unrealistic?” You feign offense. 

“Well yeah I mean, it’s written like you’ve never had sex. They go at it all night and he never needs any breaks? And doesn’t she have like twenty orgasms? I’m pretty sure she’d be in terrible pain at that point.” He laughs softly but when you furrow your brows he stops. “I assumed because it’s fantasy that that’s intentional though.” He adds on quickly at the end. 

Your embarrassment is clear on your face as his own expression goes to one of poorly concealed surprise. 

“You’ve never-” He whispers, clearly shocked. 

“I’ve never.” You finish his sentence, not wanting to hear it out loud. 

“I mean, that’s fine.” His ears are burning red. 

“I know it’s fine.” You mumble. “I’ve had opportunities to, I just… I don’t know, I guess I made it too big of a deal in my mind and now I just don’t care but I’ve waited this long and-”

“Cariña, it’s fine.” He interrupts you now, that soft smile on his face never wavering. 

“Do you think my writing would be better if I had more experience?” You say it like it’s a joke but he sees right through you.  

“I’m not sure, how much experience do you have just in general?” He stands, moving to sit beside you on the bed. 

“Well I’ve kissed people before.”

“That’s it?” You glare at him and he coughs nervously. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course.”

“I’ve been busy with work, it's just, it’s never been a priority of mine.”

“You do know… how to do it? Right?” You smack him on the arm. 

“Of course I know how to do it, you read my stuff.”

“That’s why I’m asking.”

“Oh come on, you said it was good!” 

“It is good! Everything but the dirty stuff is really good!” You groan, putting your head in your hands, he sits quietly beside you for a bit, rubbing your back. 

“Do you want me to teach you?” He says lightheartedly. 

“Seriously?” You glare at him. 

“It’s the least I can do for unintentionally making your work life hell.” He’s starting to sound more genuine in his over, it sends a chill down your spine. 

“So what? We just… do it?” You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the idea of losing it to someone who knows what he’s doing. 

“No we don’t ‘just do it.’ we do other stuff first.” He sounds amused but you’re glad he doesn’t outright laugh at you. 

“Can you just- can you just tell me what to do?” You rest your head on his shoulder briefly and he runs his fingers through your hair. 

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes please.” You mumble, feeling a strange mix of aroused and nervous. 

“Well, in one of the later chapters she blows him, right?” You nod slowly. “And you say it’s her first time doing it, she probably shouldn’t have been able to just take all of him in her mouth right off the get go, especially since he’s apparently nine inches? Which is a whole separate issue by the way.” You can feel your face getting hot all over again as he explains everything like it’s obvious. “If you want to start there we can do that.” He murmurs, trying to meet your gaze but you just keep trying to look anywhere else. 

“How big is it supposed to be normally?” You chew on your lip, hoping you don’t sound stupid, you couldn’t be more thankful when he once again doesn’t laugh. 

“It depends, but nine inches is a bit outlandish. Have you ever actually looked at that on a ruler? It’s way bigger than you think.” He holds out the estimated size with his hands and you have to stifle a giggle. 

“Fair enough.” You lean against him one last time before sliding off the bed, kneeling in front of him. “So she’s like this.” You watch his throat bob as he swallows harshly, everything is starting to quickly become real as he nods. You reach your hands towards the noticeably larger bulge in his strict jeans, stopping just before you touch him. “Can I?” 

“Yeah, of course.” With his approval you gingerly unzip the restrictive fabric, watching his half hard dick spring free. He’s certainly not nine inches but he’s still intimidating. You don’t have a frame of reference but you have to assume he’s on the bigger side of things. 

“You don’t wear underwear?” You scoff, trying to lighten the mood despite the combined anxiety and arousal pulsing through you right now.

“Not usually.” He murmurs, notably softer than before. 

“What do I do first?” 

“If you want, you can start by touching it, just do what feels right.” He reaches down to hold your face for a moment until you’re able to calm down a bit. You reach forward at a snail's pace until finally wrapping a hand around the base, jumping a bit as you feel him twitch against your palm. You slowly stroke him, just once before looking up at him, a reassuring smile on his face as you stroke him a few more times, feeling him swell until he stands fully erect. Almost absentmindedly your other hand drifts between your legs, you experimentally grind against your own hand as you continue to leisurely jerk him off, watching how he grips the sheets when you run your thumb over his drooling tip. 

“What do I do next?” You look up at him. 

“Spit on it, hermosa.” His voice is raspy and you sit up on your knees, a line of spit falling from your mouth onto the head of his cock, drawing a hiss past his teeth. It’s easier to stroke him when it’s wet, you experiment with different speeds, watching his reactions until in a moment of bravery you tentatively guide him into your mouth. You can’t help but feel pleased when his hand instinctively flies to your hair, not moving you in any direction, just holding you. You swirl your tongue around the tip, tasting the bitter pre-cum as you open your jaw a bit wider, letting him slide over your tongue. As you take him deeper you feel him against your throat and you quickly gag, coughing a bit as he gently pulls you off. “Go slow, don’t take more than you’re able to.” You cough again, catching your breath before taking him in your mouth again, slower this time. “Use your hands on the rest.” He murmurs, the low tone shoots through you and you quickly go back to touching yourself with one hand while using the other to stroke the half of his length that you can’t fit in your mouth. 

After a few minutes you begin to moan against him as you try to reach your own peak, your hand now haphazardly shoved down the front of your pants. He’s leaning back, his pupils pitch black as he watches you, his breathing unsteady. 

“You think you’re ready for more?” He says sweetly, caressing your hair. You pop off of him, watching a line of spit going from the head of his cock to your lips. 

“Sure.” You feel less nervous than you thought you’d be as you stand up, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. You feel all fuzzy and slick between your legs, your pussy aches with need as he takes your hand, pulling you onto the bed with him. You sit up against the headboard as he strips completely, discarding his shirt and shoving his pants all the way down. 

You can’t help but take in the sight of him as he turns back to you. 

His warm sun kissed skin, the wide expanse of his shoulders a sharp ratio to his slim waist. He’s toned but he’s soft around the edges and his cock stands proud against the thatch of hair on his lower abdomen. You tilt your head the way it curves, admiring it until he laughs. 

“I want you to do something for me that wasn’t in the story.” He climbs back into bed with you, playing with the waistband of your sweats. 

“Sure, what is it?” You lift your hips, letting him pull them down, tossing them off the bed. 

“I want you to show me how you touch yourself.” You stare at him, a little shocked by the request, your eyes going wide. 

“Why?” 

“I want to see, I want you to show me what feels good.” You want to feel more self conscious but he’s completely naked and something about the fact that you’re still a little covered up helps you relax, with a soft sigh you gingerly slip your hand down the front of your panties. You go off of muscle memory, recalling what you would do if he wasn’t here. 

Tracing your fingers in delicate circles around your clit, watching as he begins to touch himself, almost matching your pace. This would have been a fantasy of yours that you’d resort to when nothing else worked. Javier Peña in your bed, revealing some sort of secret attraction to you, you just never thought it would ever come to fruition. 

But here he is.

Ravaging you with his eyes as you dip two fingers into yourself with a shuddering breath, his own movements stuttering a bit as you do so. With everything leading up to this it isn’t hard to feel the familiar heat building as you expertly push yourself towards it. After a few moments more you shove your panties down completely, wanting to be unencumbered as you discard them. Without them restricting you, you can easily feel that hot tightening sensation approaching rapidly. Your breathing gets heavy as you grind your fingers against your palm, you feel the familiar fiery sensation in the bottom of your stomach as you start haphazardly fucking your own hand, you keep your eyes on the way he fucks his own until you’re just about to burst and he takes hold of your wrist, stopping you.

“Please I-” You let out a frustrated whine but he shushes you with a quick peck.

“I know, can I do it?” You nod frantically, you’d like nothing more. He gently pushes two fingers into you, you gasp in surprise at the sudden stretch as he slides them in and out slowly, continuing to jerk himself off with his other hand as he watches how you eagerly suck him in. 

It doesn’t take much from there. 

His thumb mirrors the motions you did against your clit and that’s all he has to do to push you over the edge. Your cunt spasming around his fingers as he works you through your orgasm, hot white burns the edges of your vision and you keep your eyes open long enough to watch as he squeezes the base of his own cock, groaning as he makes his own attempts not to finish. You're vaguely aware of him murmuring something that sounds like praise in Spanish as you get your bearings, he slowly removes his fingers, leaning forward on his knees to kiss you. You catch your breath through the kiss until finally he pulls back.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” His breathing heavy as he nudges his forehead against yours. 

“Is it gonna hurt?” You’re more curious than nervous at this point. 

“It shouldn’t, and if it does I’ll stop, okay?” He hops off the bed for a moment, searching through his wallet before tossing you a condom. 

“Okay.”

“And you’re sure this is what you want?” You carefully tear open the condom wrapper, handing him the rubber ring with a nod, watching how he aptly rolls it onto his cock. 

“Probably wouldn’t have come this far if I didn’t.” You slide down the bed a bit so you’re mostly laying on your pillows as he positions himself on top of you. He still seems worried about you so you reach forward, taking his cock in your hand and guiding him between your legs. 

You can’t help but sharply inhale as he eases just the tip into you, your eyes flutter shut and your mouth opens slightly as you sigh.  

God, you wish you’d done this sooner. 

It doesn’t hurt. You expected a stinging, or a tearing, instead it’s just pressure. When you open your eyes you find his squeezed shut now as he slowly works himself into you, rocking slowly back and forth. He keeps your foreheads pressed together, occasionally, bumping his nose against yours. 

“Still good?” He whispers, a noticeable strain to his voice. You nod, watching curiously as he pushes his hips forward in one last motion to fully seat himself in your heat. His jaw is tense and he’s breathing through his teeth. “So fucking tight.” He mumbles before leaning forward, groaning into your mouth. 

“Does it hurt?” You ask when he pulls himself away with a soft smile. 

“No, it just makes me worried about hurting you.”

“I’m okay, I want you to move.” You look down to where the two of you are joined. Watching how he gently pulls himself from you just a bit before pushing back in. That’s when he bumps against that spot inside of you that suddenly has you seeing stars, your hands grip his shoulders as a moan slips out of you, the grin you’ve seen a hundred times before forms on his face, you’d once hated it but now it has you gushing around him. 

“Does that feel good?” He tilts his head to the side, nudging his nose against your temple as you nod fervently. He repeats the motion, pulling out about halfway before snapping his hips forward again, your back arching when he slams into the sweet spot inside of you. 

“Fuck- Peña, right there.” You whine, your nails leaving little crescent indents in the tan flesh of his shoulders. He gets into a steady rhythm with it, crashing into you with precise deliberate strokes, designed to make your head spin. He grits his teeth once more, his breath going ragged.

“Javier.” He pants, gripping your waist to hold you still. For a brief moment you almost see vulnerability in his eyes. 

“Just like that, Javier.” You stammer out as he bends one of your legs up, pressing you into the mattress further as he throws your ankle over his shoulder, the new angle letting him fuck far deeper into you than you even thought possible. The soft and slow Javier starts to dissipate as he bares his teeth, his breath hot and heavy through his tense jaw as he slams into you. The second orgasm building in your stomach isn’t like anything you’ve ever felt before, it’s molten inside of you, threatening to burst as he brings a hand to your clit.

“Shit- tell me when you’re close.” He growls, your vision’s already blurring again as an unfamiliar pressure settles within you. 

“I- I am.” You pant out, he accentuates each thrust with a grunt and you feel yourself slip as he applies the slightest pressure to your sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re positive you’ve never come like this before, you soak his cock, a flood of your release pulses out of you as you strangle his cock. He collapses into you, your orgasm sending him over his own edge. You feel him throbbing within you as he groans into the pillow next to you. The two of you lay in a sweaty, breathless heap for a moment until he pulls out of you with a hiss, rolling over, his chest heaving as he lays beside you. 

“Now do you believe that I don’t hate you?” He gasps out. 

“I might need a little more convincing.” You grin, reaching behind you to turn your lamp off before rolling yourself over so you're on top of him.

a/n : I have a very serious love hate relationship w this.

[onlinesuzie]

can u write something about you and hamzah being apart and missing each other?? 😮‍💨😮‍💨🫶

♡ hamzah misses you ♡

words: 1.6k

genre: FLUFF!!

summary: Hamzah misses you a lot.

notes: guys i literally just needed an excuse to make hamzah the most cringe rom com man in the world.

☆

Hamzah couldn’t stop thinking about you. All day, thoughts of you filled his mind, he missed every part of you. It had only been a few days since you last saw each other, but to him, it felt like it was far too long. The warmth of your smile, the sound of your laughter, the way you always seemed to know how to make him laugh—he missed it all.

Hamzah was used to being busy. His days were often filled with filming and editing for slushy noobz. But today, even the excitement of a new video idea couldn’t distract him from how much he missed you. Sitting in his apartment, surrounded by cameras and editing equipment, he found it impossible to focus on anything else. Every glance at his phone, every moment of silence, brought him back to the same thought: I miss her.

Finally, as the afternoon sun began to go down, Hamzah made a decision. He closed his laptop, grabbed his keys, and left his apartment early. His audience would understand if the next video came out a little later than usual. Right now, there was something more important—someone more important—that he needed to see.

As he walked through the door, the rich scent of fresh flowers enveloped him. He scanned the colorful array, his eyes finally settling on a bouquet of your favorite flowers—soft pink roses mixed with delicate white lilies. He smiled to himself, knowing how much you would love them.

With the flowers in hand, Hamzah made his way to your favorite restaurant. The familiar smells of spices and freshly cooked dishes greeted him as he entered. He ordered a selection of your favorite meals, making sure to get everything just right. Once the food was packed up, he hurried to his car, excitement bubbling up inside him. He couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when you opened the door.

By the time he reached your house, the sky was painted with shades of orange and purple. His heart raced as he walked up to your front door, balancing the bouquet and the bags of food. He took a deep breath, hoping you’d be as happy to see him as he was to see you. Then, with a slight shake in his hand, he knocked.

You opened the door, and the moment your eyes met his, his nerves melted away. A smile spread across your face, lighting up the dimming evening. "Hamzah!" you exclaimed, surprised but clearly delighted. He handed you the flowers with a shy grin.

"I missed you so much," he said simply, his voice filled with genuine kindness. "And I thought maybe we could spend some time together?"

Your eyes softened as you took the flowers, their sweet fragrance filling the space between you. "You didn’t have to, Hamzah but I’m so happy I could cry," you replied, stepping aside to let him in. "These are so so so beautiful. Thank you so much."

Before Hamzah could respond, you leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "I’ve missed you too, but don’t tell anyone" you whispered, your lips grazing his skin.

Hamzah’s smile grew, his eyes sparkling with affection. "I, um, also brought you something else, to you know.. eat!" he added, holding up the bags. "I wasn’t sure what you’d like today, so I got a little bit of everything."

"You are so cringe sometimes Hamzah," you laughed, leading him into the living room. "Well come on my loser! Let’s set up in here and eat ‘cause I am actually starving."

Inside, you both moved to the living room, where Hamzah set the food on the coffee table. You brought out a couple of blankets, draping them over the couch as he unpacked the containers. The room quickly filled with the savory scents of the meal. You laughed softly as you saw he’d ordered all your favorites, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself at how happy this boy makes you.

"How was editing today, my love?" you asked as you both sat down, plates in hand.

"It was okay, there was a lot we had to cut today though because Martin kept doing weird dances and for his ego i just could not release that," Hamzah replied, giving you a warm look. "I couldn’t stop thinking about you thought, so I decided to come see you. I hope you don’t mind."

"Of course, I don’t mind," you said, touched by his honesty. "I’ve missed you too. It’s been such a long week, and being with you is exactly what I needed."

As you ate, you couldn’t stop sharing glances at each other. It was as if no time had passed at all since you last saw each other. You told him stories from your insane week, laughed at jokes from the past, and fell into comfortable silence between bites, simply enjoying the company.

"Remember that time we got lost trying to find that restaurant?" you asked, a smile playing on your lips.

Hamzah smiled. "How could I forget? We wandered around for an entire hour before you realized we were on the wrong street the whole time.

"At least we eventually found it," you teased. "And the food was so worth it."

"Well.. I wouldn’t say it was truly worth it," he agreed. "But either way I think tonight’s food might be even better. But maybe and just maybe, it’s just the company."

"See, you are so cringe you idiot," you said, playfully nudging his shoulder. "But I guess you’re right, if i had to confess."

Hamzah laughed softly, and as you both finished your meal, he leaned in closer, his eyes locking with yours. "Oh! You’ve got something," he said surprised, his voice teasing as he pointed to your lips.

You raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? What?" You began wiping at your face.

"Stop, let me get it for you," he said, his tone playful. Before you could respond, Hamzah leaned in and kissed you, his lips brushing over yours in a tender moment. You felt your face glow red, warmth spreading through you as you kissed him back.

When he pulled away, his smile was soft, and his eyes were full of affection. "There," he whispered, "I think it’s all gone now."

You laughed, pushing him away from you. "You’re way too much, you know that?"

"Only for you," he replied, pretending to be hurt.

After dinner, Hamzah suggested watching a movie. You agreed, scrolling through the options until you found something you both liked. The lights were dim, and the only glow in the room came from the TV as the film began. You curled up next to him on the couch, wrapping the blanket around you both. Hamzah draped his muscular arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. The steady rhythm of his breathing and the gentle rise and fall of his chest under your head made you feel safe and so happy.

As the movie played, you found yourself more focused on the way Hamzah’s fingers gently traced patterns on your arm than on the plot. You turned your head slightly to look up at him, catching the soft smile on his lips as he watched the screen. His happiness was infectious, and you couldn’t help but smile, too.

"You know," you whispered during a quiet moment in the movie, "I’m really glad you came over tonight. I didn’t realize how much I needed this, even if that means I have the most embarrassing boyfriend in the world."

Hamzah looked down at you, his expression tender. "Me too. I was worried you might be busy, but I just couldn’t stay away."

"You’re always welcome here, Hamzah," you replied, resting your head back on his shoulder. "Anytime."

Hamzah leaned down and kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering against your hair. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice filled with comfort. "That means a lot to me."

The movie eventually ended, but neither of you moved. You were too comfortable, too content to let the moment slip away. It was only when you glanced at the clock that you realized how late it had gotten. Hamzah noticed, too, and for a moment, there was a pause—neither of you wanting the night to end.

"Stay," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t want you to go."

Hamzah didn’t hesitate. "I’d love to," he replied, his smile widening. "I didn’t really want to leave anyway."

"Good," you said, standing up and offering your hand to him. "Come on, let’s get ready for bed."

"Sounds perfect," Hamzah agreed, taking your hand and following you. "This has been the best night I’ve had in a long time."

As you led him to your bedroom, Hamzah gently pulled you to a stop, turning you to face him. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs softly caressing your cheeks. "I’m really glad I came over," he said, his voice low and full of emotion.

Before you could respond, Hamzah leaned in, capturing your lips in a heartfelt kiss. It was soft and unhurried, full of the emotions he couldn’t quite put into words. You melted into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pulled him closer, enjoying the moment.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, but your smiles were wide.

"Me too," you whispered, your forehead resting against his.

You both got ready for bed, the routine now familiar and comforting. When you finally lay down, Hamzah pulled you close, his arm wrapped protectively around you. You nestled into his embrace, feeling his warmth and the steady beat of his heart against your back.

"Goodnight," he whispered into your hair, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

"Goodnight, Hamzah," you murmured back, your voice filled with contentment. Before you drifted off to sleep, you turned in his arms to face him, giving him one last sweet kiss on the lips.

[thehereticdiaries]

Into the Wonderland: Chapter Four

Chapter Summary: I'm building plot, it's cute and y/n actually gets a break for once. San's a menace and the alphas are horny bastards but nothing sexual happens YET

Warnings: not much, they talk briefly about kinks and bedroom dynamics but nothing explicit

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You woke up the next morning later than normal. Thankfully, it was Saturday, which meant no classes to worry about for the next two days. You blinked the remnants of sleep from your eyes, looking up to see Hongjoong awake and scrolling on his phone. You rested your chin on his chest to admire his bedhead while he was still distracted. You only got a moment, though, since he felt you move when you woke up.

“Morning, did you sleep any better last night?” His raspy morning voice sent a shiver down your spine.

“Mhm,” you hid your face in his neck. “No nightmares for the first time in weeks.” 

“Good.” He kissed the top of your head, patting your hip afterward so he could get out of bed. “We should get back to the dorms. The others are worried since I didn’t come back last night.”

“You didn’t tell them?” You sat up and watched him make his way to your bathroom.

“Nope!” You rolled your eyes, checking your notifications before getting up to get dressed. You finished changing just before Hongjoong exited the bathroom. “You ready to go?”

“Actually, I remembered a couple things I wanted to talk to you about. I kinda forgot after doing the pack bond.” He sat next to you on your bed with one hand on your knee. “Okay, my first idea has to do with my apartment. I’m not sure if Mingi told you, but my grandmother gifted it to me. I’m not willing to sell it.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to,” Hongjoong’s eyebrows creased, prompting you to continue.

“Well, I was thinking that since I’m eventually going to move into the dorms with you all,” you didn’t miss the way he sat up straighter at the idea. “We could use my apartment as, like, an extra space for our heats and ruts. Just in case any of us want more privacy.”

“We can talk about it with the rest of the pack when we get back, but I think that’s a great idea,” Hongjoong agreed, tracing circles on your knee.

“The second thing has to do with what me, Seonghwa, and Yeosang discussed back when I first joined. We had a long conversation about our heats and how we handle them and who we handle them with and –”

“Y/N,” he interrupted your rambling. “It’s okay, you can just tell me.”

“I’mstillavirgin,” you muttered way too quickly. He stared at you with one eyebrow raised, silently asking you to repeat yourself. You took a deep breath. Honestly, you didn’t know why you were so nervous to tell him when it was so easy to talk about with the other omegas. “I am still a virgin.” The silence that followed made you anxious, only getting worse when Hongjoong closed his eyes and counted to ten.

“Okay!” He sounded almost too chipper. “That’s fine, no problem.”

“Riiiiiight,” you trailed off, baffled by his reaction. “Uh, that’s everything. We can go back to the dorms now.” You stood, grabbing your backpack and his laptop bag then leaving your apartment.

You and Hongjoong walked into an empty living room. He set both of your bags down, then wrapped his arms around your shoulders from behind, effectively hiding your new mark. He covered your ears.

“Everyone in the living room!” He shouted and immediately footsteps approached from all over the dorm. His hands dropped back down to their original spot on your shoulders. One by one, the other pack members filed into the living room. No one sat, too on edge from the head alpha’s disappearance last night.

“Care to explain why you never came back last night?” Seonghwa questioned with a hand on his hip. 

“I’m sure most, if not all of you, have noticed how tired Y/N has been.” Everyone nodded and you hid behind Hongjoong’s arms. You thought you were hiding your exhaustion pretty well. “Our precious little omega has been having nightmares because of her piece of shit classmate.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell us?” Seonghwa’s voice filled with concern as he stepped forward to run a hand through your hair.

“I thought I could handle it, that they’d go away on their own,” you admitted softly, looking up at your elder omega through your lashes. 

“That’s why I didn’t come back last night. We’re not going to let her sleep alone, whether she’s over here or one of us is at her apartment.” Hongjoong flicked his eyes across each of his pack members. He smiled fondly when they all agreed with no hesitation. “How about some good news?” He stepped back, letting his arms fall from you to his sides. You were instantly crowded by the betas and omegas of the group, with San and Jongho lingering a tiny bit further away. 

“Yes! Holy shit, you’re officially ours, dollface,” Wooyoung laughed and ran his fingers over your new mark. Seonghwa swatted his hand away.

“Don’t touch it! It’s still healing,” he scolded the younger beta. Wooyoung held his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay, jeez.” San rested his chin on Wooyoung’s head to get a better view of your neck. You blushed under all of the attention. In the opposite corner of the room, Hongjoong whispered to Mingi and Yunho. They not-so-subtly glanced over to you every so often. Curiosity got the better of you, and you wormed your way out of the doting hands of Yeosang and Seonghwa. 

“What are we talking about?” You inserted yourself between Hongjoong and Yunho, the latter slinging an arm over your shoulders.

“Hongjoong was just telling us that you asked him to be there for your heat,” Mingi started with a sly grin.

“And that you want his claim during it,” Yunho concluded. You scrunched your eyebrows at them.

“Yeah? I think that’s pretty normal, so why are you guys acting weird?” You looked between the two taller alphas.

“I’m just warning you now: I don’t think either of us will be patient enough to wait until your next heat to add our own claiming marks,” Mingi stated with a shrug. You hummed and leaned into Yunho’s side.

“I wasn’t really expecting you to with how far apart my heats are.”

“What do you mean?” Hongjoong turned your head to him by your chin. 

“Seonghwa and Yeosang didn’t tell you? I’m on a suppressant that pushes them to every three months,” you explained.

“Is that healthy? Why do you need them, anyway?” Yunho asked next, trailing his fingers over your bicep.

“I need them because my heats were excruciatingly painful. Yes, they’re completely safe. The only side effect I really have basically took the pain and turned it to neediness,” you snickered at your attempt at a joke. No one else laughed. In fact, Yunho tensed at your side and Hongjoong had to close his eyes for a few deep breaths again. You looked at Mingi, but he was faring no better, covering his mouth with his hand.

“Okay!” Hongjoong had the same overly chipper tone as earlier that morning. “Thank you for telling us. I gotta go work on that mix more, see you in a bit.” He pecked your forehead then practically sprinted down the hallway, laptop bag in hand. The other two alphas left with similar excuses, leaving you alone in the living room. You were once again baffled by their reactions, and it must have shown on your face.

“Everything alright?” San asked as he re-entered the room. You sat on the couch with a huff. The beta set his gym bag on the counter then took the seat next to you.

“Yeah, I’m just confused, is all.” He arched his brow, gesturing for you to continue. “I’m confused with the way Hongjoong, Yunho, and Mingi reacted to something I said. This morning I told Hongjoong that I’ve never had sex, then just now I told the three of them about my heat suppressants and the way it makes me super needy. All three of them got really quiet and really tense. They’re not upset, are they?”

“Nope,” San managed to say between his giggles. “I promise they’re not mad. They were probably just trying to keep themselves in check.”

“What do you mean?”

“Honey, our pack is entirely doms and switches. Hongjoong has a huge corruption kink. Him, Yunho, and Mingi were holding themselves back from jumping your bones right then and there.” Your jaw dropped at his bluntness. This was interesting.

“Oh, you have to tell me more,” you insisted while poking his ribs. He laughed, gently pushing your hand away.

“Ah-ah, that’s gonna be something you have to discuss with everyone individually.” San checked his watch. “I gotta meet Changbin at the gym soon.” He stood to grab his bag, but paused to smirk at you. “I can give you a hint, though.”

“Yes! Tell me.” San leaned over you, bracing himself on the couch on either side of your head, effectively caging you in.

“Our alphas and your fellow omegas are all mean.” Your breath hitched, both at his proximity and his admission, red coating your cheeks and ears.

“What about you?” 

“Me? I’m one of the nice ones.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips then walked out the door like nothing happened. You gawked at the front door until someone cleared their throat from the hallway. Wooyoung leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

“Does he always do that?” You pointed in the direction San went in, assuming he heard enough to know what you were talking about.

“Oh, yes. San is too patient for his own good. He’ll tease you for days just to see you get riled up and desperate for him,” Wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows at you. 

“And he says he’s a nice one,” you scoffed, fanning your heated face with your hands. 

“He is, trust me.” With a wink, Wooyoung disappeared back down the hall. You shook your head, no less confused than you were 10 minutes ago. Jongho and Seonghwa passed through the room as you pulled your book out of your backpack. The latter grabbed a list off the fridge, meeting up with Yunho and leaving the dorm. The youngest pack member sat next to you, handing you a water bottle and draping your legs over his lap. You fell into a comfortable silence with the beta, each absorbed in your own activities while enjoying each other’s company.

The next day you woke up with Wooyoung practically on top of you. Last night when you left the dorm, he insisted on being the next one to stay at your apartment. You attempted to wiggle out from under him, making the beta whine in the back of his throat. He wrapped his arms tighter around your middle.

“Wooyoung, let go I have to pee,” you shoved his shoulder half-heartedly. He buried his nose in your hair, pointedly ignoring you. “Wooyoung.”

“Ugh, fine!” He reluctantly let you go so you could both get ready to go back to the dorms. You really need to figure out when you could move in, the back and forth was getting annoying. You barely had a chance to set your backpack on the couch when Yunho grabbed your hand and pulled you right back out the door.

“Yunho, where are we going? I wanted to work on my code,” you complained but didn’t fight him, easily letting him lead you outside where Hongjoong and Mingi waited.

“We,” he started, gesturing between himself and the other alphas. “Are taking you on a date.”

“What?! Why didn’t you tell me, I would’ve dressed nicer!” You looked down at your sweater and jeans.

“You look great, come on,” Hongjoong took your other hand, lacing your fingers together. You walked between the two with Mingi right behind you. It almost felt like you had bodyguards. They guided you through the subway and a short walk later you stared wide-eyed in the lobby of the Seoul Science Center. You, Yunho, and Mingi waited off to the side while Hongjoong got your tickets.

“I’ve never been here,” you grinned while looking through a pamphlet detailing the exhibits. 

“Really? That’s surprising, considering your field of study,” Yunho commented, accepting his ticket when Hongjoong held it out to him. 

For the next couple hours, your alphas followed behind you, listening intently as you gushed over the displays. You were happy to explain anything they didn’t understand and looking up the things that none of you knew. At one point you got stuck trying to figure out how to start a demonstration. You futzed around with the damn thing for nearly fifteen minutes before giving up. A young girl and her father came up beside your group. The girl was maybe ten-years-old at most, but she activated the demo in about three seconds. You collectively decided to browse the gift shop after that.

It was late in the afternoon when you returned to the dorms. You went to collapse onto the couch, groaning dramatically at Mingi pulling you into the kitchen to place you on the counter and stand between your legs.

“You’re letting them get away with too much,” Seonghwa remarked on his way into the living room. “Remember to share. You guys have had her all day.”

“Five more minutes, then she’s all yours,” Hongjoong responded as he and Yunho joined the two of you. 

“Any reason why I’m still being held hostage?” You raised an eyebrow at them.

“Kiss,” was the only explanation you got before Mingi dipped down to connect his lips to yours. One hand held the back of your neck, the other resting on the counter next to your thigh. His tongue slipped into your mouth, running along yours before pulling away with a light nip to your bottom lip. Satisfied with your dazed expression, Mingi gave you another quick kiss then left so Yunho could take his place.

“Did you have fun today?” He cupped your cheek with one hand, brushing his thumb over the flushed skin. You nodded rapidly, pressing your forehead to his. “Good.” The force of his kiss contrasted the gentle touches he trailed across your neck and hip. He licked into your mouth, guiding your tongue to his so he could suck on it. A string of saliva connected you when he pulled back to kiss down your jaw and neck. Hongjoong growled in warning when Yunho got too close to your mating gland. The younger alpha rolled his eyes, shooting you a wink before following Mingi’s path further into the dorms.

“Don’t be mean,” you tried to scold Hongjoong but your smile took the sting out of it. He pressed himself into you, pulling your legs to wrap around his waist.

“Oh, you haven’t seen mean yet, babe,” he smirked, eyes intense and lips ghosting over yours. You inhaled sharply to suppress the whimper that threatened to escape your throat. His mouth devoured yours, all tongue and teeth. Hongjoong’s self-restraint frayed at the edges as he allowed himself to roll his hips against yours once, just to hear your tiny moan. He tore himself away from you, leaning closer to your ear.

“I need to stop it here, my pretty omega. Or I’m gonna end up fucking you on the counter,” his voice sent a shiver through your body. 

“W-why can’t you?” You stammered and scratched his scalp at the base of his neck. He sent you a warning look that only succeeded at sending a rush of heat to your lower belly.

“The first time I fuck you is going to be during your heat,” he stated firmly. 

“But why?” Your whine was cut off by Hongjoong gripping your jaw. 

“Don’t argue. You should know this, sweetheart. We produce the strongest bond that way. Understand?” You pouted, but nodded against his hold. His eyes softened immediately. “Good girl. Go give some love to the others.” You tried to keep the praise from going to your head while he lifted you off the counter. At the doorway of the kitchen, Hongjoong steered you to the living room with a pat to your backside. 

“Finally!” Seonghwa quipped, pulling you to sit on his lap when you were close enough. His arms draped lazily around your waist. Yeosang scooted closer to maneuver your legs over his lap, resting his head on the eldest’s shoulder. “Are you staying here tonight or going back to your apartment?”

“As much as I’d like to stay here, all of my school stuff is back at mine. We gotta figure out when I can move in, and what room I’d be moving into,” you noted offhandedly. 

“Hmm, your heat’s in two weeks. Do you want to wait until after to talk about it with everyone?” Yeosang suggested.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” you agreed and relaxed into Seonghwa’s chest to watch a movie that Jongho put on. After dinner, you and San returned to your apartment. You fell asleep that night tucked safely under the beta’s chin.

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