#Lessons classics have to offer

[holybibly]

𝔗𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔯'𝔰 𝔭𝔢𝔱 | Mingi x reader

Pairing: Professor Mingi x cam girl | student reader Summary: You hated Professor Song Mingi wholeheartedly. He was young, successful, too handsome to benefit himself, and сonfident as the devil himself. The living embodiment of all your red flags - 10 out of 10 on the "rich, narcissist, idiot" list. At the same time, Song Mingi was the sexiest, most gorgeous man you'd ever seen. But what will you do when Professor Song discovers your dirty little secret? And that he might be too interested in giving you a private lesson in good manners? Genre / Au / Trope : Smut, University!AU, Sex Work!AU, Non-idol!AU, sugar daddy, student х teacher, forbidden relationships, cam girl. Rating: 18+ / 21+ / MDNI Word count: 10.3 k Warnings: Unprotected sex, stomach bulge, fingering, degrading, pet names, size kink, face fucking, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, pussy slapping, oral, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, сreampie, rough sex, masturbation, humiliation, blow jobs, rough oral, power play, spanking, orgasm delay, sex toys (dildo, sex machine), sex work and more. net: @cultofdionysusnet A|N: This ff has been in my drafts for a very long time and was supposed to be a really sweet "gift" for my bunnies. But for various reasons, it didn't turn out the way I had planned, and I'm personally not entirely happy with what I've written. But I tried too hard, so I'm posting it. I hope that the bunnies will be pleased with the amount of debauchery and lust that I am about to offer you.

Bunnies, Professor Song is waiting for you in the lecture hall.

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 @tiny-apocalypse @captain-joongz @alicedawitchbish @woohwababes @wlv-asteria @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisprincesss @lavishloving @teagietots @spooo00oky @sousydive @hwapou @bunnliix @softwsan @mjyungi @fantasy2wonderland @noirsfantasy @cassies-cookies @renaholicss @luffypants @hyukssunflower @watermelon2319 @peachygiku @bunnyxoxodarling @stolasisyourparent @soranosnowbunny @certifiedmoa @sanglix @slvtiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hecateslittlewitchling @xxawl @pastellbunno @starlletsblog @seonghwasstar @hwanring @vtyb23 @pearltinyy @minjaeum @chasevixx @bomi-ja @onedumbho3 @sanglix @cursedeastern @itza-meee @pinkies-things @atinism @mxnsxngie @nenefix-on @therealcuppicake @annafeebou @sharksandminhos @@lixies-pixieboy @@vampzity

The real life of a student is not always as fun and glamorous as it might seem at first glance. If you think university life is an endless whirlwind of parties and passionate romances, then I'm sorry to disappoint you. Student life is nothing more than tonnes of homework, endless stress, and litres of coffee, which you probably drink on an empty stomach because you've been up all night studying for the next 'ultra-important' lesson, and of course impossibly annoying and boring professors who seem to be just waiting for the moment to ruin your life. So when there was an announcement at the beginning of the new term that your group would have a new French literature professor, you were completely oblivious. Your previous professor had been a boring, retired man with an unhealthy obsession with young female students and cigarettes who always left his classroom reeking of tobacco, so you didn't expect much from another 'amazing' professor. But, God, you were wrong. Professor Song Mingi was maybe, just maybe, the most handsome and attractive man you had ever seen in your life. With his elegant and chiselled features, he could definitely pass for a haute couture model. His body was an art form in itself and the hottest topic of discussion in the entire university, not only among the crowd of blushing girls in love but also among the female faculty members. 

The way his perfectly pressed classic shirts fit his broad-shouldered, muscular body and the tight, expensive fabric of his pants tightened over his thick, juicy thighs, outlining every muscle, could leave no one indifferent, and even you gave in to the temptation of checking his Instagram profile, especially on lonely evenings. In your defence, you weren't the only one who started fondling herself when thinking of Professor Song Mingi. After all, how could you resist when the man was literally a walking list of the categories on Pornhub? But while Professor Song was a wet dream come to life, he was also the biggest jerk you've ever met. And there were more than a few of them. He was 10 out of 10 on your red flag list: arrogant, narcissistic, annoying, and impossibly self-centred. The world seemed to revolve around him as he looked down on everyone from his lofty perch. 

Seriously, every time you thought he couldn't be more handsome and sexy, Mingi would rush out to prove otherwise, driving everyone around him crazy, but in the process, you found even more horrible traits that both excited you and made you hate him with all your heart. 

And it seemed that you weren't the only one to feel hatred and resentment, as Professor Song, for reasons unknown to you, decided to make your life a living hell, infuriating you with his every word and action. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't live up to Mingi's high standards, and you always ended up at the very bottom of his class. In all seriousness, the man treated you as if he had the proverbial stick in his arse 24 hours a day. But God, that arse, if you had the chance, you would have loved to sink your teeth into it. It was juicy and firm, and it just created an irresistible urge to hold it in your palms and pull his body closer as Professor Song fucked you hard into the mattress. All in all, if Mingi had been able to hold his lectures standing with his back to the students all the time, as a good student, you would have wanted a seat in the front row, but hell, that was a pipe dream because Professor Song Mingi found a new way to drive you to hysteria every time. 

It was really fucked up; you were rewriting your report for the third time, and it looked like you were going to keep on doing it for an indefinite amount of time. It didn't matter to Professor Song that everyone who read your report praised what you said and thought or that you spent a lot of time writing it, sacrificing sleep and nerve cells. But it seemed that nothing could live up to Mingi's standards, which no mortal could ever hope to reach—except for himself, of course. 

"Your report lacks depth and understanding of the subject; I'm afraid you weren't paying enough attention while I lectured, Y/N. Did you have more important things to do than listen? Your report is not very good for a student in the third year. I am going to have to ask you to make significant changes; otherwise, you will not be able to pass in my class. Don't let me down this time, or I'll have to take even more serious measures against you."

As if all you ever thought about was being a good girl for him, slobbering all over him, and giving him obedient nods. He can go fuck himself. You hated Song Mingi so much. 

French literature was always the first class of the day on a Friday, and it was absolutely terrible. After listening to Professor Song lecture for two hours in his deep, pornographic voice, you usually spend the rest of the day looking grumpy and depressed. And to top it all off, Mingi decided to wear one of his most stunning black designer classic shirts today, in which he unbuttoned a few buttons so that everyone around him could admire his stunningly smooth skin, which you wanted to lick. You swear that this man is a true spawn of hell, sent to earth to be your tormentor and sexual frustration. Needless to say, as well as he ruining your mood, your panties were hopelessly ruined by the sticky juices that tickled your labia whenever you moved. 

"Good, at least this day is finally over."  You mutter tiredly to yourself as you enter the dormitory that you share with your best friend, who you can't seem to see anywhere at the moment, which is understandable since it's Friday.

Shit, it's Friday; how could you forget it? Damned Professor Song Mingi. You forgot you were supposed to be streaming tonight because you were so caught up in the whole situation. 

You hadn't planned to do this all along. It was just a one-time thing to pay off some debts, but money is a real drug that you get addicted to too quickly. But it wasn't just the money; it was the attention. The huge amount of attention you got from your followers was so sweet and exciting that it was impossible to refuse. So, like most other poor girls, it was no surprise that you got sucked into sex work and webcamming too quickly. It was good money that paid your way through university and your way of life without much thought for the future. You received thousands of comments from people who were desperate to fuck that pretty pink cunt of yours, as they had always told you, or to do many other lewd and horrible things to you. You weren't ashamed to admit that you had always been an attention whore, and their words and praise made you want more. It gave you confidence in your body and gave you immense power over those on the other side of the screen, just because of your well-groomed little cunt.

With an excited smile on your face, you walk to your room and remember the package that was delivered to you this morning. A very special gift that you are hoping will be the highlight of this evening's stream. You give a slight squeak as you see a beautiful black box made of heavy, expensive cardboard sitting in the middle of your bed, with a small envelope on top of it. You pick it up, sit down on the bed, and bite your plump lower lip in anticipation. The envelope looks like it came from one of those books of gothic literature that you love so much. It's as black as the box it came in, with a blood-red wax seal in the middle.

As you carefully remove the seal, revealing the small note inside, your whole body subconsciously warms.

"I hope this will make you think of me, doll." Le Maître 

The white ink on the black matte paper looks too formal, and you're a little disappointed that the note isn't handwritten. But just to be on the safe side, there's no hint as to who the mysterious sender of the parcel might be. After all, for your own safety, you had to accept the parcel under a made-up pseudonym. 

Le Maître. You practically squealed like a schoolgirl when this user first appeared in your paid private chatroom after one of your streams. There were a few other people there, but Le Maître was different; he was regal and bossy to you despite the fact that he paid to jerk off on your body. He was your number one viewer, attending every stream, sending you huge amounts of money, and complimenting and praising you. By now, you can definitely see that you've developed an unhealthy obsession with praise ever since the first time he referred to you as his "good girl."

Just a few days ago, he sent you a text message saying that he wanted to do something special for you—a little gift in celebration of the fact that your account now has over 25,000 subscribers. The gorgeous gift box on your lap is a special gift, and you have an inkling of what's inside the decadent scarlet corrugated paper. You impatiently rifle through the layers of wrapping paper and gasp when you see what you have received—a little sex machine. As you inspect the shiny, erotic pleasure device, you notice a small piece of paper attached to the sturdy, mechanical body of the machine.  "A special gift for my angel, who already has more than 25,000 subscriptions. You are such a sweet girl. Please use it in your next stream so your Maître can see it. P.S. I have a controller, Dolly."

You swallow loudly, feeling a nervous shiver run through your body and heat build in the pit of your stomach; you're sure your pussy is already wet with a strangely arousing anticipation, juices dripping down the quivering folds onto your lace panties. Fuck, he's really going to fuck you, thanks to this sex machine. Your attention will be drawn to the large dildo that is attached to the mechanism. It's thick and long, with lots of veins running down the shaft, mimicking the swollen veins on a real cock. It's cold and textured to the touch, and you can imagine how shiny and smooth it will be when your cum runs down it. You squeeze your thighs together in excitement, looking forward to using it tonight and putting on a show for your audience that they won't forget for a very long time. You put your 'gift' to one side and get out of bed to get ready for your weekly stream. 

"Hello, bunnies! Are you ready for this evening?" You chirp, your voice sweet and luscious with a slightly childish, innocent tone, as you shyly rub the strap of your sheer lace lingerie. "Tonight I'm going to show you something different from my usual show; as you all know, by now I've reached 25,000 followers." You fidget slightly on the bed, twirling a strand of your long hair around your finger. You purse your lips, knowing that the shimmering lip gloss makes your mouth look just fuckable. 

The mini-sex machine is standing on a pouffe out of the camera's view, and you take a deep breath to calm your excitement before you lean closer to the camera so that everyone can see your face and how plump and juicy your tits look in that bra. Luckily, this site doesn't allow screenshots and will quickly ban any user who dares to do so; otherwise, you could be in big trouble. 

"You're all so nice to me; you deserve to enjoy my face. Today,  I'd like to be a little closer to you. Don't I look especially pretty today?" 

One by one, the comments come in, and you giggle at everyone's excitement. 

"Goddamn, you're beautiful." "I want to cum on that pretty face of yours, baby."  "Your face is making me so horny, sweetie." "These lips are made to suck cock." "You're so pretty; are you going to be an obedient kitty for Daddy?"

We all have our own dirty little secret that we carefully hide, and it happened that the secret of the seemingly arrogant and fastidious Professor Song Mingi was that his regular nightly routine involved watching livestreams of pretty webcam girls with small, tight pussies. A man has needs; sue him for that, and being so busy with work and surrounded by a crowd of hormonal, giggling university students every day, he doesn't have the time or energy to find a connection. And Mingi doubted that anyone could satisfy his sexual appetite. He had always been overly demanding in everything he did, and sex was no exception. Mingi wanted to find a perfect little doll who he could fuck and spoil as much as he wanted; he needed a sweet mouth and free access to a tiny pussy, and in return, he would be happy to give the cute doll his black credit card.

One evening, he found one who immediately caught his attention, and not just because of her pretty, juicy tits and doll-like, shiny mouth, while he was browsing through the numerous profiles of various girls. You were so adorable and innocent-looking, but completely slutty. It was an instant match made in heaven for Mingi. Imagine his surprise when he saw you the first day he started working at the university. You were his student, his sweet little student, the girl he had shameless fantasies about all the time. He thought that he should feel disgusted with himself, or at least ashamed, but to be honest, Mingi didn't care; your cunt was pink and tight, and that was enough to make him forget all sense of decency.

Mingi doesn't know how he feels about it, but the way his cock gets hard just at the sight of you means he'll be getting his money's worth and enjoying the show. His classic black shirt is unbuttoned, revealing his embossed abs and golden, luscious skin dripping with sweat. He unzips his trousers and pulls out his big, throbbing cock, which jerks at the sight of you in the slutty lingerie you have bought with his money. He hisses softly, biting his plump lower lip, his eyes fixed on the cleft between your tits. Mingi desperately wants to fuck your breasts.

"Someone very special has sent me a beautiful gift, my darlings, and I am definitely going to make use of it today." Your cheeks are burning from all the lewd comments, but it is only turning you on more and more, making your pussy even wetter and more needy.

You sit down on the bed, bend down until you can't see the chatter, and pull the ottoman between your legs to the edge of the bed. The sound of the incoming tips becomes loud and constant as soon as the erotic device appears in the frame.

Mingi slowly strokes his thick, veiny member with his hand, clutching the small sex machine controller in his other large hand. He can't help but wonder what it would be like to be the one to destroy your pretty pussy with his cock. His dark eyes bore into yours as he bit down hard on his lower lip and used the pad of his thumb to circle the already-leaking red head of his cock. If only he were able to fuck you right now.

You take a bottle of vanilla lube and smear it on the dildo, moaning loudly as you run your hand from the base to the head several times, tracing the ridges with your fingers to simulate veins, imagining that this is the dick of a certain professor. God, you hate and adore Professor Song at the same time; he is the star of all your most depraved and vulgar fantasies, which is why you always cum so hard and profusely. Fortunately, when you collapse during your orgasm, you have enough control over your mouth to keep from moaning his name.

With your other hand, you pull your pretty panties aside and run your fingers through your wet folds, spreading them slightly and showing off your wetness.

"Fuck, your pussy is so nice." "You've played with yourself before; you're already so wet." "Give me a lick of your pussy, angel."

The comments go on and on, as do the messages about the tips while you are gently massaging your pussy. You close your eyes, bite your lip and let out a soft moan as the pad of your middle finger makes contact with your sensitive clit.

"Damn it, I wish I could have your fingers playing with my pussy right now," you whine. Your free hand pulls down your bra straps, exposing your breasts to the camera, your nipples hardening with growing pleasure. You take the nipple between your fingers and gently twist and pull at it. Your pussy is leaking, the transparent, viscous mucus enveloping your fingers, making them shiny and smooth, and running down your milky thighs, leaving a wet, cold trail.

You imagine Professor Song's long fingers penetrating you, stretching your tight hole, and preparing you for the insertion of his dick into your pussy. Mingi has breathtakingly beautiful hands—wide palms, thick, long fingers, always adorned with rings and bracelets. Fuck, just to feel those rings inside you, pressing against the silky hot walls of your pussy, you would do anything. You circle your fingers around the wet, quivering edge of your hole before you slip two fingers inside, your soft walls tightening around them in an instant. Your other hand stops playing with your nipples and reaches out for the toy that is about to fuck you to death.

Your breathing becomes uneven, your chest rising and falling with your moans and gasps. Your fingers run over the silky walls of your pussy a couple of times before you start to fuck yourself to death at a fast and furious pace. Your eyes roll back in pleasure as you stick out your tongue and let it drip onto your naked tits.

You know the effect you have on your audience; they love seeing someone so sweet and angelic looking like a slutty whore, and to get more praise and tips, you pull your fingers out of your cunt and slap your pussy with them. The loud signal of the incoming tip is echoed by the wet, disgusting sound of your hand touching your skin.

"Oh daddy, I want your cock so bad; my pussy is throbbing for you," you say. You hold your fingers up to the camera to show how wet they are with your slick. "I'm such a sweet Daddy; I want you to eat me up. I promise I'll come on your tongue like a good girl." You put your fingers in your mouth; you lick them, suck them, and slurp around them. The moans you make sound more like whimpering than something soft and melodic.

On the other side of the screen, Mingi is moaning in a guttural way as he leans back in the big leather chair in his home office, squeezing and massaging his balls as he enjoys the wet slurping sounds that you are making. His cock is pressed against his hard belly, the viscous pre-cum dripping from the head of it and flowing between the reliefs of his abs. His eyes roll back in his head as he imagines fucking your cunt with his nimble fingers, stretching your tight little hole in preparation for his hard fucking. You will be moaning loudly and writhing as your juices flood his hand and run down his sinewy forearm.

You get on your knees on the bed and adjust the toy so that it's right in front of your dripping hole, holding your knickers so that they don't block the view of your pussy. You are already looking so messed up. A long string of mucus is coming out of your hole, straight onto the toy, and the strokes are coming in at a crazy rate. You look straight into the camera with your big innocent eyes; your lips are pouting sweetly. Mingi hisses at this, grabs his dick, and squeezes it several times. The fingers of his other hand are flicking the switch on the controller of the sex machine.

"Please, sir, I've been such a good girl for you. Are you going to fuck me now?" You are licking your lips with the tip of your tongue, and you are lowering your pussy down onto the artificial dick. The silicone is cold and smooth, and the contrast in temperature between it and your hot pussy makes you moan loudly and for a long time.

Mingi growls, the desire coursing through him as he hears the respectful title that falls from your plump lips, in the same way that you address him as "Sir" in class when you turn up for his lecture, and it drives him mad. He turns the dial, and the car comes to life and begins to move. Your eyes lose their focus, and your mouth falls open as the toy begins to move inside of you. Your fingers spread your labia, and you show the audience how the dildo is slowly stretching your tight little hole. The size of the toy is huge, despite the artificial penis being cold and lifeless, but that doesn't change the fact that it is tearing you apart. Your legs tremble as you try to maintain a stable position on the bed. Your toes curl as you begin to play with your swollen, sensitive clit, stimulating yourself further and causing more of the sticky, slippery fluid to gush out of you.

Mingi watched intently through the screen as you writhed and moaned; the toy was finally buried completely inside you, and he could see its impressive size causing your belly to bulge. Damn it! He can bet his bottom dollar that the silicone head of the dick is in direct contact with your cervix. When he sees how greedily your cunt swallows the toy, his predatory dark eyes flash, and he swallows noisily. You can take his cock like a good girl, and he'll see to it that it happens soon. Even though this toy is much bigger than any you've fucked your cunt with in previous streams, Mingi doesn't give you time to get used to its size. But he knows that in reality, you are an absolute slut who lives for the cock and that you can easily take anything that is given to you.

The sex machine picks up speed, and you scream loudly as you feel the fake veins on the dildo drag along the walls of your body with every mechanical movement—your hands cupping and massaging your breasts, your fingers pinching your swollen nipples. The pleasure coursing through your veins, your moans growing louder by the minute, and your head falling back. Your thoughts turn to Professor Song, of course.

God, that man—the way your body has reacted to him has been completely abnormal. Professor Song Mingi is an absolute asshole, and all he does is bully you and ruin your grades. But fuck, you wanted it so much—to destroy your pussy with his dick. You hate every part of his gorgeous appearance—that stupid long hair, a weird shade of orange that looks damn good on him, those sharp fox eyes that always look at you with judgement. There's such disgust and contempt in his eyes; it's like he's saying, "You're a worthless whore," and God, you really want him to address you like that, especially in that porn voice that makes your pussy leak.

Under your fingers, what will his hair feel like? Will it be as soft to the touch as it is to the eye? What will his eyes be like? Will they be filled with unbridled hunger as his long, slick tongue flicks across your clit? Will his deep voice vibrate against your skin as he moans softly and tastes you in his mouth? Will his big, rough hands be gripping your hips, digging their fingers into the soft flesh until you're bruised and scratched, holding you still as he buries his face in your cunt as if he couldn't live without it for a single day? All these vivid erotic images flash through your brain, the constant beeping of the donors just background noise as you imagine your professor's deep, velvety voice commanding you to cum.

"Wish you could fuck me now. Oh fuck! Please, sir, fuck your pretty little doll properly." You moan loudly as the speed of the sex machine increases, all the words blending together. The whirring sound of the machine synchronises with the rapid beating of your heart as the silicone cock thrusts into you, lewd squelching fills the room, and your moans and cries become longer and more pitiful, like a cat in heat, as your orgasm begins to build rapidly.

"Oh sir, I'm thinking about the way your dick is sliding between my legs. Is it as thick and as big as this toy? Are you going to feed your doll with your cum?"

There are few things in this world that can make Professor Song Mingi lose his balance, but the sight of his cute little student fucking her dripping, plump cunt with the toy he has given her is definitely the one thing that makes his jaw drop. You are fucking beautiful, a real doll that Mingi would like to sit on a velvet cushion in his house and admire like a work of art. He knows you're about to come—your cheeks are flushed, your lips are parted in a perfect orgasmic "oh,"  your trembling little hand reaches for your clit to rub the throbbing bundle of nerves and bring you to the desired climax, and your eyes are so closed you can hardly see.

Mingi's hand glides a little faster over his dick; it's slippery and shiny with the sperm that leaks out of it. At the same pace as you rub your aching clit, Mingi makes sharp, quick circles with his palm around his cock.

"Fuck!" Mingi growls as he grips the arm of the chair and pushes his hips into his hand, the massive bracelets around his wrist clanking as his hand comes down hard on his cock. As the sex machine fucks you hard and fast at top speed, the controller is forgotten on the table next to his laptop. Your piercing moans are music to his ears, and the way your thighs subtly tremble shows the immense pleasure he is indirectly giving you. Your head is thrown back, exposing your neck, and your hips roll on the toy, the juices from your vagina running down your ass and soaking the sheets beneath you, your juicy, plump tits bouncing with the movement of the sex machine.

"Sir, Daddy, please! Can I cum for you? Please let me come for you! I've been such a good girl for you!" You are shaking all over, your orgasm is growing stronger with each passing second, and you know that it is going to be amazing. The palm of your hand is slapping your pussy again, and the sounds of tipping over are coming with renewed force. What fucking perverts!

When he realises the effect he is having on you without even touching you, a tingle runs down Mingi's spine. He has complete control over your orgasm, and you will do whatever he wants without him interfering in your real life.

"Come for me, my doll." His voice is dark and deep, despite the force with which he fucks his hand, the leather chair creaking from the powerful thrusts of his thick, meaty thighs. As if you can hear him, you pinch your clit sharply and squeal deafeningly, your body shaking in small convulsions as you cum on a toy you imagine is Professor Song's dick. The walls of your pussy contract as you try to hold the fake cock inside you as you ride out your orgasm.

Mingi cum right after you, moaning gutturally, his eyes rolling back in his head as streams of cum spray onto his thighs and abs, his mind clouded by the orgasm, and he completely forgets that he hasn't turned off the toy that continues to mercilessly stuff your cunt. His attention is drawn back to you when he hears you squealing pitifully, the tears rolling down your face and smearing your make-up, and Mingi finds himself thinking that he would like to see the same look on your face when his dick is deep down in your throat.

"Oh my God, s-sir, turn it off! Please, I can't... Oh, bloody hell! Sir, I beg you..." You scream, the tears streaming freely down your face as the sex machine continues to fill your pussy with cock like there is no tomorrow, your hands gripping the sheets as the sensory overload washes over your body like a tidal wave.

Mingi looks at you with hunger and animal lust as he watches the toy abuse your used, dripping cunt. Of course, he could turn it off if he wanted to, but he doesn't because he knows that you could just lie back on the bed and put an end to your supposed agony, but you don't want to.

He gives you a devilish grin and licks his lips as he watches the fat tears roll down your flushed cheeks as you beg him to make it stop. Your whole body glistens with a subtle sheen of sweat, and as Mingi has watched your body countless times, he knows every reaction of yours—you will cum for him; he is sure of it.

"Oh god, damn, damn! I'm going to cum again, Daddy." You let out another loud squeal, your back arching as you come for the second time that night, and this time a clear stream of liquid shoots out of your pussy, soaking the sheets even more. The tipping sounds are louder than they were before, and if there was an audience in your room, they would definitely enjoy watching you squirt over and over again. Damn, you really put on a show for them that they won't forget in a hurry.

Mingi smiles with satisfaction and strokes his cock once more, this time prolonging his pleasure with lazy strokes as he watches you whimpering and twitching with the overwhelming pleasure of your orgasm. He is kind enough to put an end to your torment by picking up the controller unit from the table and turning off the sex machine. The loud mechanical whirring ceases as the toy stops fucking you. You slowly rise from your seat, the thick dildo sliding out of your pussy—glossy and wet with your essence. You whimper quietly, still too sensitive, your chest heaving with heavy, ragged breaths. The next thing you do is make Mingi sink teeth into his lower lip until it starts to bleed.

"Let me clean you, Daddy; you have been so good to me today. My cunt feels so warm and full." Your pretty, plump lips wrap around the fake cock's head, smacking sweetly before shoving the larger half of the toy into your mouth, sucking and licking with your tongue like a real cock. After tasting the juices running down the length of the silicone, you close your eyes and moan.

Your brain forms images of how you would do this to Mingi, choking on his cock, swallowing it to the base, tickling his balls with the tip of your tongue; sucking him like a good girl, licking every swollen vein along its huge velvety length, and you know Professor Song has a big, thick dick. You think about how he will grab your hips, slap your butt cheeks hard, and penetrate your needy, horny cunt with one hard thrust until his balls are slapping against your ass. Fuck, you really want Professor Song to destroy you, and this desire almost overshadows the hatred you feel for this man.

Snap back to reality, and you're practically crawling over to your laptop with innocent, tear-stained eyes before pulling the toy out of your mouth with a wet pop and smiling brightly at the camera as if you hadn't just been ruined by a silicone dick. Your mouth is shiny and wet from a mixture of saliva, sticky pink lip gloss, and your juices.

"Fuck, that was so hot."

"I'd like you to splash on my cock as well, honey."

"Wow, baby, I didn't know you could do that. Will you squirt on my face if I pay you?"

"I want to cum in your cunt so bad, sweet cheeks, daddy must keep you full and pretty with his cum."

"You're so fucking beautiful, angel, I'll jerk off on your face every night."

"That was your best stream ever, princess."

All these comments are making you giggle. Men are really just horny animals; show them a nice pussy and they will be at your feet.

You spend some time interacting with the public, reading comments, and showing off your new toys and lingerie that you bought with the money you made from streaming. The cursor hovers over the bright red button, and before you press it to end the broadcast, you look straight into the camera, first slowly licking your lips, then slightly tilting your head to the side with the sweetest expression on your cute little face. It may seem that you are talking to all the viewers, but in fact you are talking to just one man, Le Maître.

"I hope you have enjoyed today's show, sir, and that you have had a lot of fun. But I really want you to use your real dick to make me cum and squirt so hard. I really, really want you to fuck me in real life, Daddy." You kissed and winked at everyone, and you finally finished your show.

Mingi couldn't sleep at all that night; after the show, he jerked off two or three more times, even using an artificial pussy, imagining he was fucking you instead of a cold silicone toy. He came so much that his cum was everywhere, even landing on his luxurious diamond-encrusted Rolex.

In contrast to your restless, overheated professor, you fell asleep almost immediately—tired and satisfied—from an amazing orgasm and from a huge amount of money that fell into your bank account after the stream had ended. Of course, your Le Maître was the biggest donor of all.

Next Friday

"I expect all of you to take this course more seriously and to have your homework done by Monday. From next week, there will be three more lectures on French literature in your course, so don't be a disappointment to me. The class is dismissed."

You sigh heavily, already anticipating the torment the extra pairings with Professor Song will bring you. Fuck, you hate him so much, but the sight of his thighs in those tight trousers should be illegal. That's a real crime against humanity. You gather your things and hope to get out of the stuffy lecture hall, which now always has the smell of pure sex—Professor Song's perfume. If you didn't know any better, you'd be thinking that the man was literally bathing in an aphrodisiac, because it's just not real to smell like that. You never thought you'd be turned on by someone else's perfume, but here we are, drooling on the floor at the incredibly sexy scent that Professor Song Mingi wears like a second skin. Sometimes you wonder: Does the bitch know how attractive he is? But he does, and he uses it to his advantage, judging by that smug, arrogant grin that always sits on those plump, sensual lips. 

You are just about to leave when you hear his deep, husky voice calling out your name. Oh no, not now. 

"I'd like to talk to you about your performance, Y/N." Mingi begins to speak slowly, stretching out the letters and putting emphasis on the last word. There is definitely a certain ambiguity in all this, which you can't quite make out. "What can you tell me about it?" He walks around his desk, leans his gorgeous butt against it, and crosses his arms over his chest. His poor shirt buttons try harder than the devil on a good day.

You tilt your head to the side in confusion and walk down the stairs, authematic, to be closer to him. Why is he asking you that now? Damn, he always finds the perfect time to throw you off balance. Your heart races, and you try to ground yourself, thinking about what an idiot he is and what strange things could be going on in that beautiful head of his. You struggled to read him; his stunning model face always had this arrogant royal expression that completely failed to convey his true feelings, so every time you talked to him, it was like playing with a big cat. 

"I think I'm all right, Sir. Why are you asking?" You stammer slightly, but when you hear Mingi's deep moaning, all your mental scolding about your nervousness quickly fades away. You stare at him with your eyes wide open in an attempt to comprehend what the hell is going on. Your eyes focus on Professor Song. The way your narcissistic jerk of a professor shamelessly adjusts his trousers, which now show a very noticeable bulge in his crotch.

Before you know it, you're standing right in front of him, and your nervousness has returned with a vengeance. He's even more handsome up close—classic glasses perched on the bridge of his perfect nose, his long fingers reaching up to remove them and place them on the table. He stares at you with his dark fox eyes, towering over your petite frame, as he carefully pulls the sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbows, revealing the massive bracelets around his wrists and the bulging veins on his forearms. God, does he have any idea of the effect this has on you? Too afraid to look him in the eye, you cast a glance at the small cross around his neck.

"Yes, you're doing very well. Too well, actually, aren't you, Y/N?" As his thumb runs down your soft cheek, tracing the outline of your mouth lower until he slides it between your parted lips, you almost gasp and feel like you're going to faint. You don't hear anything but your heart pounding in your ears. It feels like it's about to burst out of your chest. You stare at him helplessly as he presses the pad of his finger against your tongue, stroking it lightly. A devilish grin appears on his plump lips, replacing his usual bitchy expression with something more sinister and dangerous. "Such a beautiful little dolly, aren't you? So skilled with your fingers, so good with that pretty little doll mouth of yours, and you definitely know how to serve that little cunt of yours perfectly." Mingi whispers as he leans closer to you, his other hand reaching under your skirt and squeezing your bare bottom. Fuck, you definitely shouldn't have worn a thong today. "I'm sure you're playing with your sweet bottom, too, bunny." He continues to rub his thumb over your tongue for a few more moments, while his other hand gives your arse a hard massage that makes you squeal with pleasure. You're quite sure that the skin on your bottom is already red from his aggressive touch. As soon as Mingi stops touching you and pulls his hands away from you, crossing them over his broad chest, the situation comes back to you.

You are watching his every move, breathing heavily, letting your eyes glide over every pulsing vein on his forearms, and praying to God that you will have enough strength not to lean over and run the tip of your tongue over them. 

"P-Professor, I don't have a clue what you're talkin' about."

"Oh, darling, don't play innocent; you have a very clear idea of what I'm talking about. I'm really glad you found a good use for the gift I gave you last night, my angel." Professor Song's voice is a velvety whisper, and considering how quiet it is in the lecture theatre, he might as well have shouted, the meaning of his words ringing loudly in your ears. He's like a predator, slowly circling around you, the soles of his designer shoes clicking on the parquet floor. Your feet feel as if they are glued to the floor, and you don't know what to do. When you try to speak again, your voice sounds broken, and you are on the verge of tears. 

"Will there be a report against me, Professor Song? Or what? You haven't got any hard evidence that it's me." You say it with conviction, and hope springs, but unfortunately, it dies as soon as Mingi opens his mouth.

"That may be true, my dear. But you wouldn't want such terrible accusations to be made against you, would you? Mingi taunts you; his deep voice suddenly comes very close to your ear. You feel so unprotected in his presence, so tiny in comparison to his huge, tall body. Why does this man have to be so bloody big?

"They'll never know it was me who found your profile on the porn site; I could easily pass it off as an anonymous tip." You catch your breath as you feel his rough, hot hand slide under your skirt and up your thigh. Mingi smiles at your reaction and leans in closer to you, biting the lobe of your ear. "Besides, this is going to get rumoured around the university. People will be tempted to do a check on your account—people you know, people you might be close to." He goes on, the heat of his breath making you shiver. 

His broad palm grips your mound in a possessive way, the heat from your pretty pussy causing his cock to twitch in his trousers. You try to stifle a shameful moan, but the sound escapes you, and you unconsciously lean forward, pressing your breasts against him. Mingi wraps his other arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his body as he does so. Oh shit, your head is spinning from the smell of his perfume so close, and on top of everything else, you're ashamed to admit it, but your pussy is terribly wet, and you're pretty sure Professor Song can feel your wetness in the palm of his hand. 

"It may be illegal to screenshot, and your streamers will disappear, but what about the pictures and videos you've posted? Of course, everyone will be able to see your sexy little body all over the place. And don't you dare argue about it. You always look like a thirsty slut, wearing those tiny skirts and shoving your tits in everyone's face. You are a worthless little bitch." Professor Song hisses and presses the palm of his hand harder against your pussy, and you want to rub it against it so badly that it's almost pathetic.

Your tongue doesn't turn into an object; it's as if it were glued to the roof of your mouth. Mingi was right; you've always dressed rather provocatively, and it's never bothered you, but it seemed to bother him. 

"Either way, your name will still be in tatters, and my reputation will be perfect and clean, as it should be. I'm a respected professor with a model student. I'm not someone who watches a cam-girl stream every Friday night and watches how she stuffs a fake cock into her luscious little cunt." Wiping away a tear that has accidentally escaped your eye, Mingi's thumb runs down your cheek. Your vision is blurred by the tears, and the dark, lustful eyes of Professor Song are the only thing you can see clearly.

"Please tell me... What can I do to stop you from saying anything about me?" Your voice is barely above a whisper, and your words are a useless string of letters. Mingi's eyes flash angrily at your whimpering plea.

"Ah angel, you sound even better in real life when you're begging." Mingi moans as his middle finger slowly rubs the folds of your folds through your panties, which are more like a tiny piece of lace and do very little to cover the plumpness of your cunt. You whimper softly as you lean back against his shoulder. You've always been easy to arouse, and the wet sound you make when Mingi's fingers tease your pussy makes it clear that you're absolutely flowing for him right now. You can be sure that as soon as he pulls your panties off to the side, your viscous slime will be dripping freely out of your hole and onto the polished parquet floor. "I think you know very well what it is I want from you. I pay you good money all the time; don't you think I deserve the real thing, my doll?" You let out a loud whimper as his big hand pressed down hard on your shoulder. "On your knees, little one; don't keep your sir waiting."

As you kneel before your professor, facing the growing bulge in his trousers, your lower lip trembles. Professor Song is leaning against the desk, his hands on either side of his body, gazing up at you from under the lashes of his eyes. Your trembling hands are fumbling with his belt, and the sound of the metal echoes through the empty room.

"Oh, now you're embarrassin' yourself, darlin'? Where's that slutty bitch who was squirting all over yesterday because she let her pussy get stretched by a big dildo?" Mingi says it arrogantly, tilting his head to the side and tapping his fingers on his desk in disappointment. You flinch at his words like a slap in the face, but don't bother to reply as you pull down his trousers and underwear, the sight of his thick, wiry cock making your mouth dry as you try to swallow the lump in your throat. Like everything else about Professor Song, his cock is amazing—a drop of pre-ejaculate glistening on the flushed head, a thick vein swollen and throbbing just waiting for you to run your soft tongue over it, and its size—he's got a huge cock with a massive girth that you can barely wrap your palm around. Mingi wraps his hand around the cock, his thumb smearing the wetness over the head before he brings it to your lips and runs his whole length over it, leaving a wet sheen, and slaps your mouth a couple of times. 

"Open your mouth, dolly."

Mingi's other hand tangles in your hair, pulling hard on the long strands as you obediently open your mouth for him. His thick cock enters your mouth slowly, your jaw tensing as you try to get used to the size of it. You choke as the blunt head of his cock hits the back of your throat and the balls rest against the side of your chin. Mingi's thumb caressed your tear-stained cheek, and he cooed sweetly as he watched you gurgle around his cock, drool bubbling at the corners of your lips and dripping down your chin. His cock is hot and heavy in your mouth, the veins stretching across the sensitive, velvety skin. Professor Song doesn't give you enough time to get used to the size of his cock and pulls your head back until the only thing left in your mouth is his head.

"Don't you think you should lick me before I fuck you in the mouth, doll? You were very eloquent about wanting me to do it yesterday." You obediently run your tongue around the head of his cock, feeling more pre-cum pouring from his slit onto your tongue. It has a sweetly bitter taste, and you think that it is very suitable for Mingi. "Well done." Professor Song hisses at you before he pushes his cock all the way back into your mouth. You gasp as your hands fly to his strong, muscular thighs in an attempt to push him away as his hips thrust sharply forward, mindlessly using your mouth as his personal cock sleeve. The thick length of it presses down on your throat, and the bulge of his cock is perfectly visible against the back of your neck with each powerful thrust. 

"I have been waiting for such a long time to fuck that slutty mouth. Darling, I can see that you have nothing more to say to me, do you? That's how it's supposed to be; whores don't get to talk." Mingi lets out a deep moan and throws her head back as she pushes you down on his cock. Your saliva mixes with his pre-cum and sticky lip gloss, coating the length of thickly dick, making it shiny and smooth so it slides easily over your tongue and deeper into your throat. As you reflexively try to swallow, your jaw aches, your lips stretch around the thick circumference, and the walls of your throat contract. Never in your life have you sucked such a big, long cock, yet here you are, fulfilling the role of a pretty sex toy for your professor to enjoy. At least, unlike some lifeless silicone, no matter how expensive, your cunt and mouth are warm and moist. 

As he mercilessly fucks you in the mouth, Professor Song is not shy about his volume, emitting hoarse, prolonged moans and growls. Anyone could walk into the lecture hall at any moment and see your compromising position, but for some reason it turns you on. Maybe you really are a slut, although as long as you get paid enough, you don't mind being one, especially when Mingi is the one scolding you daily until you pass out. 

"Fuck, I'll cum." Mingi gasps as he wraps both of his large arms around your head, trying to hold it in place. You moan around his cock, the vibrations making Professor Song growl ducky as he presses harder into your slluty mouth and your grip on his hips tightens, your nails digging into the juicy flesh, leaving vicious marks, but Mingy doesn't give a shit; you could rip his skin off if he keeps fucking you like a personal doll. His dark, foxy eyes find yours, his beautiful, plump lips are slightly parted, and his balls are clenched, slapping you on the chin. Now you don't even know what to call him. If you thought Song Mingi looked like a wet dream before, then now he's sex itself. 

"Damn, damn, damn, doll!" He moans loudly, jerking his hips as his sperm pours into your mouth. As you forcefully swallow the viscous liquid that seems to have no end, your prolonged whimper is distorted. There's so much of his cum that some of it seeps through the corners of your mouth. He continues to slowly fuck your mouth. "Don't waste it, slut." He says it in a threatening voice, and you whimper at the venom in his tone. Mingi uses his long fingers to push his cum between your lips and roughly wipes the wet mess around your mouth. All of his rings are covered in a thin layer of cum and saliva, but you think it's hot.

You blink twice, catch your breath, and the next thing you know, your knees are no longer touching the cold floor, and your face, wet with tears and sperm, is pressed against Professor Song's spotless, cold desk; he has thrown you on the desk like a fucking doll. Fucking hell, that wasn't supposed to turn you on, but God, this man is just driving you crazy. You're too preoccupied with your thoughts to notice that Mingi has lifted your skirt, exposing your wet thong to his gaze. The cold air in the audience causes your hole to clench in reflex and the liquid to squirt out. 

You have to clench your fist to keep from squealing as the tight, expensive leather of his belt lands on your bottom with a loud crack. Oh my God, he has just hit you with his belt. Oh shit. Mingi doesn't let you recover; he holds your head against the table with one hand while he slaps your bottom again with the other. The sting of the contact between your soft flesh and the belt makes you squirm and writhe. 

"You just sucking my cock, and you're already so wet? You really are a slut. Aren't you?" He smirks as he leans down and sinks his teeth into the flushed skin of your arse before giving you another good spanking. You whimper as Mingi pulls your thong down your trembling legs, long strands of your own slime tugging at the insignificant piece of fabric as he does so. He pushes your buttocks apart so that your plump, flowing pussy is exposed to his hungry eyes.

Mingi picks up your leg, which is bent at the knee, and puts it down on the table. You whimper and grab hold of the edge of the table, embarrassed at how open you are to him at this moment. To be honest, it's the most disgusting feeling—you're embarrassed, but at the same time, you want him to do even more disgusting and humiliating things with you. Professor Song crouches down in front of you and spits into your cunt before licking a long, sloppy strip between your folds. Mingi uses his fingers to push your folds apart and then slides the tip of his tongue into your tight hole, tracing the edge of it. 

"Oh, God, sir..." As Mingi eagerly licks your cunt, avoiding your throbbing clit, you let out a long moan and arch your hips towards his tongue. He pulls back abruptly, his heavy hand coming down on your bruised arse to spank you hard before you can get the stimulation you need. 

"Did I tell you you could move, huh? You impatient bitch." You whimper at his reproachful tone. You scratch the wood with your fingernails as he spanks you again. "A good student answers the question, Dolly." Mingi hisses, mixing the scalding pain with the pleasure of the spanking, as his hand touches your bottom again.  "N-no, sir! You didn't tell me to move! I'm so sorry."

"That's right, doll, but I have a feeling the games are over for today." Professor Song says as he finally gets up to his full height and puts his arm around your neck.

Breathing heavily and hoarsely, Mingi feels the heat emanating from you as he guides his thick cock into your little hole. You let out a loud breath and wonder if his cock will feel like the toy he has given you. Probably not; however much you like it, nothing compares to the warmth and throbbing of a real cock, especially Song Mingi's cock.  You squirm as you feel the head of his cock pass slowly between your muscles, a soft howl escaping from your lips. The dildo you used yesterday is nothing compared to Mingi's dick; it feels bigger and thicker, the swollen veins of his cock stretching deliciously along your silky, trembling walls. The urge to hold him inside you is almost irresistible, and you can't help but clench around him. Fuck, and here you thought Mingi couldn't be more slutty and godlike, and you were wondering if his cock had been given special attention during his creation? You let out a loud moan, your tongue flicking out of your mouth, and right now you definitely fit the definition of 'well fucked'. Drops of sweat roll down Mingi's neck, disappearing beneath the fabric of his unbuttoned shirt, exposing his hot golden skin and sculpted breasts. Heavy breathing replaces what he's saying, and you feel partly grateful for that. When he finally enters you at the base, the head of his cock touching your cervix and his forehead pressing against your shoulder, you both moan loudly.

"S-Sir, y-you're too big."

Ignoring your whimpering, Mingi grabs you by the hips and immediately sets a brutal but rhythmic pace with you. The objects on his desk shake and fall, shattering on the parquet floor as he fucks you, pressing your body against the desk with the full weight of his body. The fabric rubbing against your hardened nipples sends a pleasant tingle down your spine and makes you shiver from the added stimulation. Your moans grow louder and louder, your cheeks burning, and you can hear his heavy balls slapping against your clit as he thrusts your tight pussy back and forth along the length of his throbbing cock. The humiliation of pouring cream around Professor Song's cock brings tears to your eyes, but at the same time, you come to an almost orgasmic pleasure as he slaps your arse again. The sting stings like a bitch, but it feels fucking unbelievably good.

"That's it, goddamn it. I've been thinking about fucking that tight little cunt for ages. You really are the perfect doll to fuck."

It all makes you dizzy, and you moan "sir" and "daddy" as your pussy sucks him up greedily. You're getting so excited; you don't want to admit it, but you can't help yourself. You can't get enough of Mingi's cock. It feels so good inside you. 

"That's my good little girl. You're definitely worth what I've paid for you." Mingi growls in your ear as he pushes harder and harder into your used cunt. He presses down hard on your neck, pinning you to the table, not letting you move, and fucking you relentlessly, his hips moving hard and fast as he takes complete control of your body. Your orgasm starts to form, an intoxicating sensation of rapture coursing through your veins like lava. 

"Sir, please! Harder!" You need to cum so badly that you beg him to go harder.

Mingi's eyes were narrow—dark and cruel—and his muscles were quivering and tense from your pathetic begging. He's a professor, and professors always want the best for their students, especially the ones they like best.

"Look at you, begging for my cock like a good little bitch," he says. He accentuates the last word with a strong thrust and plunges so deep into your cunt that you can almost feel the head of his cock entering your cervix. A mixture of incoherent words and intermittent moans escape your lips. Your head falls forward as Professor Song releases your neck to grab your thighs again, leaving more bruises on them. 

"Will you cum for me, bitch?" He leans down to your ear and nibbles on your lobe, the slapping of your skin and squishing of your pussy echoing through the empty hall.

"Hell yeah! I'm going to cum for you! I'm going to cum for you, Daddy; I'm going to cum on your cock!" You scream, the knot in your stomach gets tighter and tighter, and Professor Song fucks your flowing cunt faster and harder.

"Then cum, bunny." He growls, his hips losing their rhythm and jerking, his cock throbbing as thick, hot jets of cum coat the walls of your cunt. He moans your name quietly while your voice is barely audible—a weak, panting whisper, 'Mingi'. Both of your bodies are slowly at rest, revelling in the haze of your orgasms. Soft cries and whimpers escape from your lips, and you shudder as you feel your mixed juices pour out of you, staining the floor that was once so clean. You collapse helplessly on the table, your body going limp, a puddle of saliva pooling under your cheek, and your breathing heavy as you try to clear your mind.

Mingi moans. He bites his plump lip as he comes out of you. You whimper, squirming awkwardly as more cum pours from your pussy. You turn back to look at Professor Song, and your eyes almost pop out of your head as you see him pressing your panties to his nose and moaning loudly and satisfied. He smirks at you vulgarly, licks his lips, and wipes his cock with your underwear before tucking his dick into his trousers, the zip jangling loudly. He dismissively tosses your thong aside and presses against you again, pinning you between the desk and his big muscular body, his hot breath touching your earlobe, before whispering in his deep porn voice.

"Don't think that this is just a one-time thing, doll. I have paid for you, and now you belong to me. Do you understand what I mean?"

"Yes, Professor Song. I understand you perfectly."

"That's good. You're a real teacher's pet. On Monday evening, I will be expecting you for an extra lesson. Don't you dare disappoint me, doll." He slaps your butt once more before he pulls himself away completely and walks out of the classroom. 

Oh, this is really fucked up. 

#cultofdionysusnet #ateez smut #kpop smut #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez yandere #yandere #atz smut #smut #seonghwa smut #hongjoong smut #san smut #yunho smut #mingi smut #jongho smut #wooyoung smut #yeosang smut #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong x reader #mingi x reader #san x reader #wooyoung x reader #yunho x reader #jongho x reader #yeosang x reader #ateez unholy hours

[obeymematches]

Cheer up MC!

You were disappointed. You almost failed your ancient spell exam and you were disappointed as hell. Of course your day is now ruined.

Lucifer:

• Although he understands how you feel and thinks you need to feel the disappointment you feel now to be better in the future (what a dick), he can’t let you hang your nose the entire day, can he?

• He does the classic thing; takes a piece of stick-it note and writes on it.

• As he is sure you are in your room, he knocks on your door and slides the note under it.

• You sigh as you get up from your bed.

• „Thinking of you. Take all the time you need, I’ll be waiting for you in the garden.”

• There he waits for you under the garden lights with a table and only two chairs. He prepared some fine wine for you.

• You spend the evening talking and expressing your feelings of disappointment.

• He is quick to reassure you; ask him to help you next time, or even better, he can give you a private lesson or two, so your success is guaranteed next time.

Mammon:

• AH. Can’t have you be sad for 1 minute!!!!

• Doesn’t know why you are sad, doesn’t even care, he only cares about cheering you up ASAP.

• His best bet is making you go out!

• However you don’t really feel like dancing or drinking tonight.

• Well anyway he must disappear now!

• When he comes back he has chocolate, balloons, some crisps with him! He even got you a flower!

• No it is not too much he is on a mission here!

• You smile a lot and maybe even tear up a bit depends on how you handle these kind of stuff-

• He is more than ready to cuddle you by the way!!!

Leviathan:

• Okay so do you know that game you always play together but you are friggin stuck??

• Well he does ALMOST beat the boss but he absolutely needs your support now!!! What is his worth without his partner-

• If getting past that part doesn’t interest you now he would just cuddle and put on your comfort anime for you! Perfect time for a marathon afterall!

• It always works for him so maybe you’ll feel better too!

Satan:

• Of course you must be blue right now, he know exactly how much you prepared as he was right there with you the whole time.

• But if you don’t cheer up soon he might threaten the teacher to give you another chance to write this test-

• He is there to do whatever you want, he might even do the stuff he always turns down.

• If you don’t feel like doing anything then it must be more serious than he thought originally.

• So he decides to write you a love letter, that could probably work, right? (If you are already in a relationship!)

• He tells you all the reasons he loves you and how much he appreciates everything you do and how YOU make his days better than ANY book ever could!

• If you are not dating he’d make you solve some kind of mystery, he came up with the idea in about 10 minutes.... but it does make you think and forget what made you upset in the first place.

Asmodeus:

If you are sad he is sad! That is the rule!

Comforts you with cuddles but doesn't let you stay melancholic for more than half an hour.

He would start putting on some nice music, maybe you'll get to go out tonight and forget about it all!

If you decide to go out he makes sure you'll be the centre of attention at the party; you get all your favourite drinks, the DJ only plays songs you like, you end up having a good time out!

However if you don't feel like dancing he'd make you a romantic bath with candle light, lots of foam and rose petals! It's what you deserve babe! It's what you deserve!

Beelzebub:

• Oh damn the last thing he wants is to see you sad and mad at yourself.

• The test didn’t go too well for him either so he really gets you-

• He offers you to join him on a bike ride through town!

• It makes you move and makes you feel much better right away.

• On the way of course you must stop and eat dinner somewhere.

Belphegor:

• Honestly if you want to relax and chill he is your best bet!

• Ready to take a nap and maybe you’ll feel better after!

• But he also doesn’t mind cuddling until you feel loved.

• He is caressing your hair, your back, your face

• Can tell you all the sweet nothings in the world, doesn’t mind talking a lot if his voice calms you!

#obey me #obey me swd #swd obey me #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me leviathan #obey me! #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanon #obey me hc #om hcs #obey me lucifer #obey me asmo #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x you #obey me x y/n #obey me x reader

[sserpente]

Happy Ending

Synopsis: Out of all people you could have been assigned to for your lifeguard training, it had to be Billy Hargrove. You hate the guts out of his cocky and flirty demeanour and during your lessons, Billy has no mercy and it shows—muscle cramps torment your entire body after another intense training session, and (un)fortunately, Billy takes notice and offers to give you a massage. What could possibly go wrong?

A/N: Request from anon. You asked, I delivered! But hear me out… what if he gave RC a seductive massage beforehand? ;-)

Words: 2654 Warnings: pure, shameless, and filthy smut

“Ugh…” You groaned, rolling your shoulders. Your lifeguard training was killing you. You’d be as stiff as a piece of log by the time you’d made it through the final exam. That’s how you’d end up saving drowning folk. They’d just use you like a piece of wood.

But you were determined to push through, if anything to prove a point. Billy Hargrove aka the pain of your existence, was pushing you to your fucking limits. Out of all people you could have been assigned to… well, technically, it had been a fifty-fifty chance. But boy, would you have preferred Heather over him.

Billy was a cliché on two legs. A cocky boy from California with abs, a womanizer, and a classic jock—not to mention he preferred to resolve disputes with his fists. You knew what he stood for and what his intentions were with the women he wooed and you hated yourself for being insanely attracted to him. Nothing good would come out of giving in to his recurring flirting attempts. He knew exactly what he was doing—knew about the effect he had on women and he was bathing in it. His ego was too big for his head, that was for sure; and the fact that during your lifeguard lessons, Billy repeatedly had his hands all over your half-naked body didn’t exactly make things easier for you.

You groaned once more, attempting to stretch a little. You had absolutely no idea how you had survived the past hour.

“You okay?” Billy came walking into the changing rooms, still wearing nothing more than his red swimming trunks. He was chewing on gum, a sly smirk playing on his lips when he noticed your struggles. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“Yeah… just tense. Muscles cramps.”

“I wasn’t going too… hard on you, was I?” He asked, playfulness playing in his voice. Damn him.

“No… I’m just not used to excessive workouts every day.” You realised your mistake, or rather, your poor word choice, the moment he started grinning.

“Oh, you’re not?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, stop it already. I hate you, remember?”

“I can help you, you know,” he said, unimpressed by my complaint and clearly still amused.

Raising your eyebrows, you glared him down suspiciously. “Oh yeah?”

Billy nodded. “I know a few… massage techniques.”

Your eyes widened and you took, no, jumped a step back.

“Absolutely not!” Billy’s hands slowly gliding all over your body, kneading away the knots? That… that sounded horrifying, it sounded… really hot. Which was why you could, under no circumstances, agree to it.

“Come on… Are you scared it could be… good?” He leaned in close and you cursed internally. Yes. Yes, that is exactly what I’m afraid of, for Fuck’s sake.

“No. I just… I don’t need you of all people to massage me, Billy. If I need to release some tension, I’ll go to a professional.” You winced, again slapping yourself mentally for your poor word choice. Billy chuckled.

“Follow me.”

You didn’t know why but you did. Billy led you to the lifeguard office in the back of the building. There wasn’t much in here—just some equipment, first aid kits, a surprisingly neat desk, and a low treatment table for injured pool guests.

“Lie down, stomach down.” He pointed at the treatment table. You hesitated. This was a bad idea. This was a really bad idea. So why the fuck did you move toward it and did as you were told?

“Is it just your shoulders and your back?” Billy went to grab something from the sink area—you could only assume it was some sort of massage oil. You doubted this was part of the equipment here, he must have brought it himself at some point.

“Yeah…” you croaked out.

You tensed, staring at the wall and avoiding his gaze at any cost when Billy slid the straps of your swimsuit off your shoulders and then proceeded to pour some massage oil into his hands. He rubbed them together, the soothing sound sending pleasant shivers up and down your spine, and then… you felt his hands on you.

Billy’s fingers were surprisingly soft and yet, they went to town firmly. A moan escaped your lips when he located the knots and began to massage them away.

“Told you I’m good,” he purred. You groaned by way of a response. Because the fucker was right. It felt amazing. He felt amazing. Billy knew exactly what he was doing—you didn’t even protest when, after a while, he pulled your swimsuit down further to reveal the entirety of your back. Up and down his hands went, exploring your bare skin and working away all of the tension his training had caused in the first place.

You could get used to this. You could fall asleep to this. Fall asleep and dream of Billy’s hands further down… no, stop! That’s exactly what he wants to achieve!

You were about to protest and opened your mouth when he travelled south with a start, testing the tense flesh on the back of your thighs. He tsked at you when his thumbs rolled over the knots and tense spots.

“I don’t think you were completely honest with me, doll.”

“I’m fine…”

“Flip over,” he suddenly said.

You ripped your eyes open, only realising now that you had closed them. You were naked from the waist up. If you turned around now, you’d give him a full front-row view of your tits. He wished, huh?

“I’m good, Billy.”

“Flip. Over,” he repeated. His voice was darker now, almost a little intimidating and… taunting in the most delicious and fuck, sexual way.

Grunting, you pulled your swimsuit back up just enough for it to cover your breasts and rolled on your back, meeting his blue eyes and staring daggers at him. He only chuckled.

“You’re really cute when you’re pretending to be angry.”

“I’m not pretending. I am angry.” Angry at how good it felt. Angry at how good he made you feel.

Billy smirked and poured some more oil into his palms. Next thing you knew, he was working your thighs so thoroughly that you tensed up in order not to wriggle around.

“Relax, babe…” Ha, easy for him to say. You had no doubt that he was enjoying this, perhaps even more than you were. Especially when his thumbs moved toward dangerous territory. Again and again, he grazed your inner thighs just a little too close to where you kept claiming he didn’t have an effect on you. A circumstance that was getting harder and harder to deny because fuck, you were growing wet. You could already feel the heat pooling between your legs, your breathing quickening.

And before you even knew it, your legs fell open further, inviting him in. It was over there and then. Fuck it. Fuck him, literally. You could only hope he had locked the door behind him. He won. He fucking won.

Your lips parted as Billy’s hands took the invitation. You bucked your hips the moment his thumb brushed directly over your still clothed clit, your nails digging into the treatment table, though this time, he didn’t tell you to relax. Instead, he did it again. And again. And again.

For a brief moment, he paused. And then, when you didn’t protest, he slowly pushed the thin stripe of fabric out of the way to reveal your glistening pussy to his greedy eyes. You were panting at this point, lost in the pleasure he was promising you without even speaking a word.

His fingers were slippery with the massage oil, his left thumb slowly circling your sensitive bundle of nerves. You gasped when you felt him push two fingers inside of you. He fucked you languidly, savouring every single second and you bucked your hips and arched your back, meeting his thrusts, silently begging for more.

You almost flinched upon hearing his seductive voice again. “I think that swimsuit needs to go, doll. It’s in the way… and we wouldn’t want to get massage oil all over it, now would we?”

Biting your lower lip, you hummed in agreement. All of a sudden, you did not mind him seeing you topless anymore at all. Quite on the contrary—it turned you on even more knowing that you’d be lying before him completely exposed, all his for the taking.

Billy did all the work for you. He removed his fingers from your pussy and chuckled when you whined at the loss. He then hooked his fingers into the hem of your swimsuit, pulling it all the way down—at an antagonisingly slow speed—to your ankles. You kicked them off, unable to hide your trembling. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been this aroused, except, perhaps, this one time you’d been unable to fall asleep and instead decided to masturbate to the thought of Billy fucking you. Shit, you were a goner. A complete and utter goner.

“Jesus, I knew you’d look even hotter without the swimsuit.”

You moaned in response, still unable to meet his gaze. You kept your eyes shut, a sigh of relief escaping your lips when his left hand cupped one of your breasts as if they’d been made for him. His other hand returned to your slick cunt. Sweet, wet noises echoed through the otherwise empty room as he fingerfucked you all the while the hand on your breast kept teasing your hardening nipple. By the time he moved on to the other breast, you were breathing heavily, a warm knot tightening in your stomach—fast.

And yet again, you had to admit… Billy knew exactly what he was doing, working you toward what already felt like the most mind-blowing orgasm of your life. His voice alone almost tipped you over the edge.

“Do you wanna come, babe?” he rasped.

“Please…” You barely recognised your own voice at this point. Begging Billy Hargrove for an orgasm… you’d most definitely lost your marbles.

But before you could slap yourself for your horny stupidity, you fell. Billy made you see stars, his fingers working your cunt like an instrument and hitting all the right keys. You clenched around his fingers, drenching them in your juices as your toes curled and you came hard.

He made sure help you ride it out before he released you, wet hands gliding all over your bare body. He massaged your breasts for a little while until you came back to your senses, your eyes still closed in pure and utter bliss. You didn’t protest when he tilted your head and stroked your neck.

For just a brief moment, he stopped touching you. Then, you felt something hard pressing against your parted lips. You didn’t care what you were, didn’t care that he was a player and would move on to the next girl after this. You didn’t even care that you were supposed to hate him. You wanted Billy and you wanted him now. His cock in your mouth seemed like a good place to start.

Moaning with relish, you closed your lips around his tip and sucked gently, testing the waters. You’d given a couple of blowjobs before but with him, you felt the odd need to impress with your skills. The results were almost immediate. Billy sucked in air audibly when you took him deeper, tongue darting forward to tease his slit. He pushed forward slightly—surprisingly patient, he let you take him inch by inch at your own pace until you rolled over to taste him properly.

You were done for the very moment you tasted a salty drop of precum on your tongue. Accompanied by another moan, you started bopping your head up and down, your left hand busying itself with his tight balls. You released him with a smacking noise, right hand covering what you could not take, and suckled on his tip like a popsicle before licking over the entire underside of his shaft.

“Fuck…” Billy threw his head back just when you opened your eyes. Pleased with his reaction, you repeated the motion and then took him in your mouth again, faster this time. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, thrusting forward now and slowly taking control. You let him. You let him fuck your mouth until your gag reflex hit and your eyes were watering and yet, when he pulled out of your mouth, leaving your lips swollen and tingling, you made a disappointed noise.

“Where?” was all he said. You bit your lower lip and nodded toward the desk. He didn’t need to elaborate on his question. You knew exactly what he meant and quite frankly, you were too far gone to back out now.

“Condom?” you breathed out as you slid off the treatment table and approached the desk naked, your limbs still trembling a little from your intense orgasm earlier.

“Yeah…” You figured he went to grab one from his bag stored away in the corner, always prepared for a quick fuck with a girl he’d wrapped around his finger for sport. As much as you attempted to force yourself to, you couldn’t complain about it. Not right now. Not when you were desperate for him to finally fuck you and get that remaining tension—the tension between the two of you—out of the way.

Billy didn’t disappoint. His blue eyes were dark with lust when he returned to you without his trunks and quite an impressive erection still glistening from your saliva under the thin latex of the condom. He flipped you around so your hips hit the edge of the desk and bent you forward, fingertips ghosting over your spine.

You shivered, your lips parting to beg him to put it in already when he knocked all air from your body. Billy sank himself into you with but one eager thrust, a groan escaping his lips in the process. He grabbed your hips tightly, holding you in place for him as he began to fuck you, withdrawing almost entirely only to plunge back in so forcefully your breathing became uneven.

Your hands reached for the opposite edge of the desk to hold on to something, your legs almost dangling in the air. On your tiptoes, you kept your arse lifted to meet his hungry strokes. Hunting his own pleasure now, you could all but let your eyes roll the back of your head. He was fucking you so good… Billy hit all the right spots inside you and his stamina… fuck, all of the other guys you had been with would have creamed their pants long before you could have brought your lips anywhere near their dick.

It felt good… it felt so good… oh god.

“You gonna come for me again, babe?”

You nodded and hummed in response, too dazed for a coherent answer, feeling yourself tightening around his hard cock right before you exploded a second time. Pleasure coursed through your body, filling you from head to toe.

Billy grunted. He fucked you through your climax relentlessly, stilled only moments later when his own release overwhelmed him and he emptied himself into the condom. Shit, for a second you wished you’d have asked him to fuck you raw just so you could feel him coating your walls with his seed. You whined when he withdrew. But there was always a next time. You’d make sure of it.

You were certain now that you didn’t actually hate Billy Hargrove. You had hated how much you had wanted him.

“I think I’ll need a… ‘massage’ after every training session from now on. Your lessons are so exhausting,” you said, panting.

Billy helped you turn around and stand up straight, naked bodies pressed against each other. He grinned, his lips ghosting over yours. “You know what, I think so too, doll.”

A/N: Check out my blog for more Imagines and my original novel(s)! ♥

#billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove #stranger things #stranger things imagine #dacre montgomery

[legacygirlingreen]

The Nose Knows // Sebastian Sallow x MC

This was a collaboration with @darch7995 ! I had so much fun writing this. It’s your classic amortentia story with a twist!

Warnings: some angst but ends good!

Word count: 4k

Here is a link to her audio: part 1 , part 2

She hadn’t intended to be so late for class, but when Professor Garlic had asked for additional help repotting mandrakes she could hardly say no, as the witch had always been polite as could be. The only issue was she had lost track of time. Barreling through the door to the potions classroom, she cringed as she saw the faces of all her fellow peers turning towards her hasty entrance and the face of Aesop Sharp turn sour at her late arrival.

“How nice of you to join us MC. Perhaps a worthy investment would be a watch as you seem incapable of keeping the time. Detention-“ he started and she begged him.

“Please professor I was helping Professor Garlic and we lost track of time-“ she pleaded and he looked at her, still unsure.

“And if I address this with Professor Garlic she will confirm this as well?” He asked her and she nodded.

“Of course Sir.”

“Fine. But come to the front of the class, identify our lesson today since you are avoiding detention on the grounds you were late.” He told her and she panicked.

Carefully setting down her things and whipping her dirt soaked hands on her skirt she started towards the front of the room. She caught the eyes of some of her classmates. Garreth gave her a reassuring grin and Imelda smirked, always competitive with her. Poppy gave her an apprehensive look, to which she would ponder later and when she finally noticed Sebastian, leaning in with curiosity she decided to give identification of the mystery potion a shot ignoring the looks she received.

Professor Sharp handed her a potion bottle, completely blacked out, not revealing the color of the potion. Color was usually the easier identifier of any potion so she’d had to get creative. Uncorking the bottle she attempted to catch a whiff of any particular ingredients used.

Letting the smells fill her senses she became utterly confused, her face twisting as her eyebrows drew and she once again took a whiff of the potion for confirmation at the overwhelming but unique liquid.

“What the-“ she asked confused as people in the class giggled.

“Relying on all of one’s senses for potion identification is integral, especially with the more volatile and dangerous concoctions. When items have been laced with potions or poisons you will not be able to use color as an identifiable agent, so would you be so kind to elaborate to the class what the potion smells of and perhaps your classmates might be able to help you identify this particular brew” Professor Sharp offered and she once again took a whiff, finally being able to separate the multiple smells to which she encountered.

“That’s the thing professor - none of the things I smell are reminiscent of any potion ingredients I am aware of…” she tried to reason and the man continued.

“Then what do you smell?” He asked her, feigning intrigue while knowing full well what he was asking her to reveal. A small amount of embarrassment often went far in discouraging students from being late to class.

She looked up as some of her classmates gave her an awkward glance and she noticed Natsi’s eyes grow with a small shake of her head telling her not to reveal what it was. Confused, she raised an eyebrow as the professor responded.

“We don’t have all day, perhaps another one of your classmates is more capable...”

“I smell… parchment, like the dusty old books that students have long forgotten in the library. I also smell fire… not any ordinary fire, but the strong Smoky smell you’d attribute to spells like incendio or confringo… and lastly I smell-“ she trailed off realizing exactly what fragrance she had identified, yet she realized it had come from across the table and not the liquid.

It was a fragrance so holistically masculine in nature. She immediately recognized the cedar wood and bergamot undertones, that blended with whatever spices warmed her cheeks whenever she was privy enough to catch a whiff lingering on his skin. Any time they studied together in the undercroft she was easily lightheaded when he’d lean over to see something in her notes and she could indulge in the fragrance he kept from an area she believed was under his ears but she couldn’t be quite sure.

She was reminded of the one time he’d lent her his scarf and she couldn’t stop smelling the green fabric as his cologne had lingered to the knit so intoxicatingly. She could recall the first time she’d ever realized that he’d taken to wearing it - some time at the start of 6th year, he’d approached her and something about the way his warm body, now accentuated by the fragrance warmed her cheeks to the point that he worried she had the chill, led to the back of his hand stroking her cheeks with worry. She assured him everything was okay, but he never quite let it go.

But perhaps she could just smell the fragrance directly, not in the potion, given he was so close to the table. He was directly across from her, staring intently at what she was holding. Without realizing her critical error she calmly told the professor.

“I smell Sebastian’s cologne, but that’s mostly since he’s standing so close to the table and likely went a little heavy handed again with it” she joked and when no one responded for a second she grew confused. Immediately Imelda called out from the back row with a loud laugh.

“Oh this is rich. Our resident troll slayer is in love with Sallow”

Looking down she immediately realized her fatal error, once again wafting the potion and realizing that the smell had in fact come from the bottle, not across the table like she’d thought.

Immediately she felt sick to her stomach, realizing that professor sharp likely had thrown a love potion she was unfamiliar with into her hands as she corked the bottle and handed it back to him.

“I - I don’t know what this is sir… I apologize for being late” she said, voice faltering as she felt a small bit of moisture pooling in the corner of her eye as she looked down to avoid the stares she felt. The room was still whispering and chuckling at her mistake and she refused to meet their eyes.

“Would anyone else like to inform our late classmate what potion she has neglected to identify?” He asked, completely uncaring of her embarrassment as she quickly worked around the table, finding Poppy by identifying her muddy shoes and slightly frayed gray and yellow plaid skirt. Still refusing to look up she heard Amit confirm her fears as he awkwardly explained.

“Amortentia. The love potions. Often identifiable by its fragrance or pearlescent appearance.” He said, hoping to leave it at that but Professor Sharp seemingly had it in for her today as he pressed the ravenclaw for more information.

“And what of it’s fragrance Mr Takar? Explain your classmates' findings?” He asked

“Well um… it smells different to every person based on what or who is attractive to them… MC smelt books, fire and… cologne… since that is what she is attracted to, " Amit said and she didn’t have to look up to know the boy was grimacing while explaining the results to the class.

She felt a hand on hers as Poppy leaned in to whisper in her ear. “I’m so sorry MC… I can talk to Professor Garlic since she’s the head of my house if you’d like… explain the situation since you were only late to help her "Poppy offered quickly and she shook her head, looking up at the hufflepuff just as a tear leaked out of the corner of her eye.

“The damage is already done, Poppy. Let’s just focus on the lesson.” She said, brushing the tear off before it fell too far, turning back to the front and putting on the best brave face she could muster, hoping her tone would be enough to sully her friends worry over what had happened.

At the conclusion of the lesson, she bolted as fast as she could from the classroom, ignoring the many concerned people calling after her and pressing on faster as she heard continued laughter from Imelda Reyes and Samantha Dale.

Quickly turning the corner she bolted through the library annex, rushing off towards the greenhouses and taking a sharp left. She could hear someone following her and she would recognize those footsteps anywhere.

“MC wait!” Sebastian called out behind her.

Panicking she saw the familiar owl statue and in a hasty decision she dove for it, turning the wall as she slipped behind the secret alcove just in time. Resting carefully on the other side in relief she heard the footsteps falter just outside in the hallway.

“Sebastian, slow down” Ominis said as she held her breath hoping Sebastian hadn’t seen the wall shifting but his frustrated sigh let her know he had not a clue where she slipped away too.

“She’s gone.” Sebastian said and she could tell by his tone he was concerned.

“I’m sure that she will be alright… she’s just embarrassed… give her some time to collect herself” Ominis explained and something about the phrasing easily agitated Sebastian

“Oh yes because being associated with me is embarassing Ominis, wonderful vote of confidence” Sebastian responded.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. I hardly think she’s embarrassed of you, just embarrassed at how that information, the kind of things people like to remain personal, was just ousted to the classroom like that.” Ominis tried to be the calm and level head they needed, to which she was grateful. As she sunk to the floor she decided to continue to listen.

“Stupid, foul, git Professor Sharp. I always hated that man you know” Sebastian said and Ominis chuckled.

“I’m not sure you should be cursing the man when he accidentally revealed the information you’ve been dying to know for such a long time” Ominis explained.

Information Sebastian wanted to know?

“Not like that. Did you see the way she absolutely crumbled after she realized her mistake?” Sebastian asked

“Shockingly enough Sebastian I can’t say I did see the ordeal” Ominis responded with a chuckle, referring to his inability to see in an attempt to alleviate some of the stress.

“I’m fairly certain I saw her crying next to Poppy in the corner Ominis… wait perhaps Poppy knows where she ran off too, let’s go see if she knows anything” Sebastian explained and she could hear his footsteps moving away from the alcove.

“Sebastian, it may just be best to let her come to you when she’s ready…” Ominis said and that was the last thing she heard before their voices got too far from the door for her to hear.

————————————————

Luckily the ordeal had occurred during her last class on friday, giving her the entire week to hide from everyone. Using the time to explore the highlands, and the frustration to crush another one of Imelda’s flying records - or perhaps that was more out of spite for the slytherin girl’s less than tactful response in class - she spent very little time at the castle. Only slinking back in right before curfew and refusing to speak to any of her dorm mates.

When Monday morning reared it’s ugly head, she slunk down to the kitchens, avoiding the great hall entirely and finding Feenky the house elf who was kind enough to slip her some breakfast before she waited until the absolute last second before strolling into the back of class. Quickly slipping out at the conclusion of each lesson, ignoring those speaking to her, she wandered the school like a ghost.

She had maintained that the whole week and Friday eventually rolled around, having been a full week since everything had occurred.

In every class she could feel him staring but she refused to look in his direction. She just wasn’t ready to face him yet or hear his rejection. She knew that despite how embarrassed she was, he likely felt worse knowing he shared common rooms with Imelda and she could hear their classmates frequently teasing him about it, along with his threat of “knock it off”.

Eventually she came to realize that at some point she would need to face the boy again and that continuing to prolong this endeavor would only make it worse, yet she worried over how to acknowledge what had happened. Could she pretend it never occurred? Would he want an explanation? Would his rejection be kind? And what had Ominis meant by the words he’d spoken in the hall?

Sighing, she stood from her desk at the conclusion of Professor Hecat’s class, traversing the length of the room and seeing Sebastian with his back turned to her, in some form of a heated argument between himself and Imelda.

Summoning some of that gryffindor bravery Natty was so well known for, she tapped him on the shoulder, cowering beneath his tall frame as he turned around to face her. Surprised to see her he let out a gasp as she avoided his eyes.

“MC…” he said

“Might we have a word” she said glancing down below them before finally meeting his eye after signaling the undercroft below their feet. “In private,” she added.

“Of course” he told her, immediately abandoning the heated discussion between himself and his housemates. She watched as Ominis scolded Imelda before reaching for Sebastian’s discarded things as she left with Sebastian in tow.

Once outside the classroom she could feel all eyes on them in the hallway and tried her best to put on a brave face and ignore it. Attempting to lighten the situation she said, “wow I feel like I’ve had more attention and eyes on me in the last few days than I did after the battle under the school” and he chuckled.

“Leave it to teenagers to be more interested in crushes than mortal danger or goblin rebellions. The way even you fall asleep in Professor Binns’s class should tell you people care more about the personal lives of their peers than the historic moments” he countered and she knew he was right.

“I suppose you’re right.” She said as they rounded the bottom of the stairs and made sure no one was watching before slipping into the underCroft in silence.

“I just-“

“About what-“

They both started at the same time and both paused.

“You first” he insisted and she shook her head.

“I believe I’ve spoken enough, you should say what you were going to” she argued and he silently nodded.

“I’m sorry about what happened in class. It was really foul what Professor Sharp did. He didn’t need to embarrass you like that… I’m sure it wasn’t fun having your um… feelings exposed like that when you were only trying to make a joke…” he said gently, trying to convey he truly felt for her. After he found Poppy, the Hufflepuff and Ominis were able to convince him, against his very obsessive and compulsive nature, to allow her some time to settle her emotions. As difficult as it had been for him all weekend not seeing her and worried about how upset she might be, he did his best to avoid everywhere she often went - the undercroft, hogsmeade, the library and the astronomy tower - just out of respect for her hurt feelings.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you either” she said with a sigh

“Why would I be embarrassed?” He asked her confused

“Because I - you were there.” She didn’t want to have to voice it again.

“I know. But why would what happen embarrass me? If anything a small part of me is thankful that I know I just…” he trailed off and she waited for the rejection to come.

She sucked in a breath as she closed her eyes waiting for him to just rip the bandage off. She could take it. And she mentally had prepared for it in the whole week she’d spend avoiding him.

Instead she felt him grab her hand gently, his own shaking slightly as she opened her eyes in confusion. In his other hand she saw a small vile.

“I uh, didn’t think it was fair that you were the only one who had to explain what amortentia smells like to you…” he said holding up the pink shimmering potion.

“So you brewed more of that vulgar concoction that caused this whole mess?” She asked teasingly despite the lump in her throat.

“Can you give that a whiff?” He asked her gently, passing it off and she sighed and nodded, uncorking it and having the familiar smell of fire, books and cologne overtake her senses once more.

“Smells like amortentia. 10 points to slytherin.” She confirmed with an awkward laugh as she handed him back the vial.

“Perfect.” He said with a small grin, taking it back from her before removing the topper and taking a whiff of it himself.

“Mallowsweet” he told her.

“What?”

He gestured to the small pocket on her belt that he knew always contained the small herb, it’s unique fragrance always clinging to her and apparent when she stood close by.

“Mallowsweet. You always have some on you, in that pouch for those Merlin trials you showed me during our fifth year.”

“What about it?” She asked confused and he lifted the amortentia vial again, taking a whiff as his eyes fluttered shut and he replied with a spell bound tone.

“I smell it in amortentia”

She gasped realizing he was explaining what the potion smelled like to him.

“Sebastian you don’t have to-“

“Heathers. Like the ones growing in your vivarium where you keep the Phoenix. You smell like them and I know they are your favorite flower. I know to most they are just weeds but you always pick them to put in your books or pockets and it’s just so endearing to see how much you adore something that to everyone else is worthless but you think they are pretty. I love laying in the grass with you and getting to read outside even when it’s the winter because it’s always warm in the room of requirement and you look so pretty just laying amongst the Heather with a book in hand.”

She didn’t reply as he went on. He reached forward, grabbing her wrist and lifting it to his face, placing the delicate ball of his nose against the inside of wrist and inhaling with a sigh.

“And that perfume you bought in Hogsmeade with Poppy during our 6th year. Merlin I remember when you borrowed my scarf, and the day I got it back I couldn’t help but smell your perfume lingering on it for weeks. Any time you adjust your hair or you lean in to whisper something in class I just can’t help but notice it”

“Sebastian…” she whispered as he let go of her wrist and opened his eyes.

“All I smell in amortentia is you.” He confirmed and she looked at him as her eyes softened.

“You do read a lot in front of fireplaces” she told him with a quiet sigh.

“I also forgot to put on my cologne that morning,” he admitted as she gasp.

“What?”

“I was running late and I forgot to put it on that morning. I wasn’t even wearing it the day we had potions. In fact right when you burst in the door Ominis was telling me how much I needed to bathe since I got sweaty at crossed wands and the lack of cologne didn’t help.” Sebastian admitted to her with a chuckle.

“I - well that’s something… she faltered, realizing he truly did have confirmation the whole time she had feelings for him.

“Let me take you to hogsmeade sometime. A proper date?” He offered.

“You don’t have to do that. Proper first dates are for people who don’t really know one another… I feel we already know so much about each other…” she said softly as he nodded, tracing the side of his finger down her arm before he reached her hand where he laced their fingers together.

“Fair enough, but I wouldn’t feel right just kissing you without at the very least being a gentleman first”

“Sebastian Sallow, you want to kiss me?” She teased him as she chuckled

“I think asking you out on a proper date, which you seem to have rejected might I add, as well as admitting to smelling you in the most powerful love potion known to wizard kind would confirm that yes I do indeed want to kiss you” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, however his reddened cheeks gave away his nervousness.

Leaning up on her tiptoes and she gently pressed a kiss to the side of his cheek before pulling away, smiling at his nervous and shocked expression.

“Fine. You’ve convinced me we can go on to hogsmeade on a date. Then you can kiss me” she teased.

“Wait no, I take it back, come on I think we know each other well enough for a little kissing, don’t you” he asked desperately trying to pull her back against him as she ducked under his arm with a laugh.

“No you’re right Sebastian… it just wouldn’t be proper for you to kiss me without being a gentleman first “ she quoted him running off behind one of the large posts in the undercroft before casting disillusionment.

“Not fair MC” he groaned as she snickered, sneaking up behind him. Right when she thought she had him he turned around, grabbing her and in the panic the spell was dropped.

“No more hiding from me MC. This last week has been torture” he admitted and she smiled

“But it’s so fun” she replied and he rolled his eyes at her, holding her closer to him.

“Hmm I suppose I could be persuaded….” She told him.

“How so?” He asked

“Kiss me.” She demanded and he didn’t reply, instead lowering his lips to her own as they kissed. His soft lips claimed her own with a mix of gentleness and firmness that left her feeling warm. The scratch of his recently shaved stubble lightly grazing her upper lip as they carefully moved their mouths together.

Breaking away she giggled.

“What is it now?” He asked feigning annoyance as he tried to lean in once again with a small grin on his face.

“I am going to need to borrow your scarves on occasion you know? I meant it when I said that your cologne is quite intoxicating..” she purred while leaning into his neck.

“Only if they come back smelling like you” he offered in rebuttal.

“I think that can be arranged,” she said once again, connecting their lips as the rest of the world melted away in the dim light of the undercroft.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow/reader #sebastian sallow x slytherin!reader #fluff #hogwarts legacy fandom #anne sallow #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts legacy fanfic

[ultralightpoe]

S-L-U-T 2 - Eddie Munson

Authors Note: CAN BE READ ALONE, but if you want there is a first part on my page.

Word Count: 5038

Warnings: this is just pure porn with very little plot. Good luck

(Thank you for the gif @gayshipsandanxiety )

Enjoy!

(Last warning. This is pure porn with very little plot. Turn back now)

Never in your life did you expect to be in a situation like the one you’re in today.

Tarzan Boy, a random pop song, playing on the stereo of the vans speakers as said van rocked quite a bit under the movement of the two people in the backseat.

It had started out as Eddie driving you home from school, which lead to the both of you arguing over the music choice, him wanting his classic rock and metal music and you begging for anything else. He had been mean, not mean enough to elicit an actual fight but just mean enough to lead to you lifting your tiny skirt to your hips and flash him your panties as he drove. You were going to to teach him a lesson today.

He had, no shocker here, swerved to park his car in the woods and followed you into the back of the van where you ended up straddling him with all your clothes still on. He was leaning against the wall, eyes wide as his hands gripped at your hips harshly, looking panicky and awed all in one go. His lips swollen and open wide in an “o” shape as you dug your clothed heat down onto his own clothed tent, enjoying the feeling that fizzed through you.

“Eds….” You mewl, another swipe of your hips that has him moaning loudly, feeling him tense under you. The van rocked, squeaking a bit as you kept riding him through both your clothes. “Ed’s…….”

“Oh fuck.” He growls, eyes cinching shut as his hips rise to grind against your own, his hands pushing you down to add pressure as the somg keeps playing.

His breath came out in heavy pants, and while one hand dug its fingers into your skin the other fisted in your dress as if the cloth was keeping him grounded. You made sure to lean down, your hot breath blowing on his ear as you moaned out a simple “uh huh…”

And he tenses more, thighs clenching as he tries to pull you close but you’re too quick, immediately lifting your hips from his that has him crying out and opening his eyes with a frantic “no!”

You had been playing with him for close to an hour now, had edged him more times than you can count, and he was beginning to fray. But you had yet to get what you needed from him.

“What do you say?” You pant out, leaning back as his hands tighten in an attempt to keep you close.

“C’mere.” He pants, teeth gritting together.

“What. Do. You. Say?” You try again, hand moving to his chest to keep him still.

“I’m sorry.” He whines out, bangs clinging to his forehead. “I’m so sorry baby. I’ll fix my attitude I swear it.”

“What a good boy.” You smile, leaning your hips down to his own, and just at the mere touch of your clothed heats together once more he groans out.

“Iswearit” he whines out as you beginning moving your hips back and forth again.

“You want it slow or fast baby?” You offer, watching him struggle beneath you. You already know his answer, he’ll say fast. That he wants all of you, every ounce of power you have.

“Use me.” He moans. “Gimme everything.”

So you do, smiling and biting your lower lip as you press your hips together, humping him in the back of his van like it was the only thing keeping you both tethered to this earth.

His moans and growls were constant now, one hand sliding up to paw at your breast in a skilled manner, pulling the flimsy material covering it off so he can pinch your nipple which makes you shudder above him.

“M’ close.” He snaps, canting his hips into yours as the van rocks some more.

“Me too.” You moan out, leaning forward the same time he does as your bodies press together and your arms wrap around eachother, letting your hood keep moving as your lips meet and clash.

He moans through the kiss, his tongue making its way into your mouth as you shudder and come undone above him, making him cum in his own pants soon after.

Even after your hips finish riding our your shared highs you stay meshed together, chest to chest as you make out in the back of his van.

When he pulls back to breath his hair is completely messed up and his jaw is red from your hands rubbing at it, lips swollen and red themselves.

“We switch music back and forth then?” He asks, hands rubbing circles on your back slowly.

“I mean…. If you want.” You blush, avoiding eye contact.

“Baby, you just made me cum in my jeans over it. You won.” He laughs, pulling your jaw to look at him once more. “Don’t get all shy and docile. Own that shit. Own me.”

“Yeah?” You laugh, playing with his hair. “Then when can I have you?”

His face shudders at the memory of his rule he made a month ago, when you had dragged him back to your room to show him what you wanted and he had declared it.

“I will not fuck you until you’re ready.” He had said, and you had laughed asking what he meant.

Eddie would not be fucking you in that final way until he was sure you were ready and comfortable to tell him what you wanted or needed. He claimed that he wanted you to learn your sexual life at your own pace. Which right now included a lot of dry humping, and that sucked for laundry but boy was he in heaven.

And just like you had the last time you both did this you brought up the rule and he felt lame and ready to fuck you.

But then he remembered that you hadn’t had him finger you since that original night, and there were plenty of other things in between that he wanted you to experience.

She’s rushing.

“It’ll be worth the wait when you’re ready.” He smiles.

“For me?”

“Oh no. For me baby. You’re gonna hate it.” He jokes which pulls a laugh from you that has his heart melting.

-

“Did you do the homework for English?” A voice blurts to your right, drawing your attention away from where you were searching through your locker for one of your books.

Your head whirls to find Wes from your class smiling at you, leaning against the lockers by your own and taking up too much space in general.

“You mean the homework we got last period?” You ask, raising an eyebrow and risking a glance over to the lockers across from your own where the boys of Hellfire (Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, and Paul) had been waiting for you to head to lunch.

The three boys pretend to be looking anywhere else, giving you privacy but you see all their fists clenched. Eddie however watches carefully from his spot, a soft smile on his lips as you make eye contact.

“Hello?” Wes snaps, actually snapping in your face which has you blinking.

“I’m sorry? What did you say?” You rush out, feeling a little guilty he had asked you a question and you hadn’t been listening.

“I asked if you wanted to get together to do the homework later.” He sighs, irritation laced on his features before his eyes cast down to where your cute dress showed off some cleavage. His eyebrows raise slightly and a red adorns his cheeks before he looks back up at you with excitement, irritation suddenly gone. “Say my place around 7?”

You risk a look down, wincing when you see that your nipples were now visible through the dress from your little staring contest with Eddie.

“Can’t tonight. I’m busy.”

“Oh? Doing what?” He laughs, moving a little closer and reaching a hand out to play with your hair. “I’m sure you can make time.”

“Ready to go?” Eddie interrupts , smiling softly at you as you close your locker and grab his arm to lead you away.

“Fucking slut.” Wes sneers and within a moment Eddie has him pinned. It’s a flash of leather and chains, whirling to follow his figure as he shoves the jock into the lockers.

“Watch your mouth. You hear me?”

“Fuck. Fine. I’m sorry!” Wes grunts as Eddie’s forearm shove into his throat. “I’m sorry man!”

“Not to me. To her.”

And just like that Wes whirls to you and repeats the words. You grab Eddie’s arm, pulling him softly.

“Come on baby.” You whisper.

“You two dating now?” Steve asks, shuffling closer with a wide eyed look. You hadn’t seen or spoken to him since last year and he looked entirely different, nicer now if that made sense.

“Yes.” You bite out.

“Easy. I was just asking. Came to make sure you were okay.” He smiles and holds up his hands as Eddie walks past, keeping his arm held at an angle you could hold onto.

When you both are a decent enough distance he shakes his head. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Say you’re dating me.” He mumbles and you panic.

“I’m sorry. I assumed and I- well all the ….. stuff and I just-“

“Hey hey. No don’t think that.” He rushes to stop you, hands on your jaw to pull you close. “I just meant even with all the mind blowing stuff we do I want you to have options. Don’t feel the need to be tied down to me, okay?”

“Will you be seeing other people?” You blurt.

“God no. I wouldn’t be able to get it up if I tried.” He smiles.

“Then I won’t either. I want to date you.” He smiles at your words, leaning to kiss you before the rest of the boys are there pushing you both into the lunchroom.

-

The bowling alley was a terrible make out spot as you’d come to learn, not because of the music or the smell, no. It was terrible because it was everyone else’s make out spot as well which frustrated you beyond belief.

Friday nights at Hawkins there was nothing much to do so a lot of the teens ended up driving to neighborhood towns to check out their own places. Shadyside bowling alley was one of them.

Shadyside had an extremely bad reputation, one that ended up being wrapped into some insane conspiracy of a witch cursing the land and that’s why tons of kids from this town ended up slaughtering one another.

You had been a little nervous when you found out the boys were all going and they were all begging you to come with them, well all but Jordon who still made snide comments about your attire to this day. Not in front of Eddie because he would pummel him and you never bothered to tell your boyfriend because you didn’t want him having to kick out the kid from their dnd game.

But nonetheless they convinced you which had led to you attempting to bowl as everyone around you drank and had fun. A couple hours in you decided that you had enough to drink and now you wanted nothing more than to kiss your boyfriend so you did. He enjoyed it, humming pleasantly as he deepened it before pulling back and giving you a knowing look.

“Hey guys. We’re gonna go smoke. Switch up teams for next round.” He mutters, pulling a cigarette from his pocket to place between his lips as his hand grasps yours and he leads you away. Gareth smiles and flicks your forehead as you pass, which makes you laugh until Jordon glares harshly and you trip over yourself a bit.

Then the issue of finding a nice spot became apparent, because every corner was taken by couples that seemed to have the same idea you two had.

“Fuck.” He grunts, kissing your cheek. “There’s the van?”

“It’s cold out.” You shake your head, watching him nod in agreement. Warming up the van for a quick make out session would take far too long and wouldn’t be worth it.

So he chooses to kiss you lightly with his hands rubbing your back softly. “Okay. Let’s go back. We can catch another game-“

But then you’re tugging his jacket and he grunts out as you lead him into a stuffy closet that smells like mold and has terrible lighting.

“Is making out really worth the black lung we can get in here?” He laughs, only to get cut off when you pull him in for a deep kiss, moaning into it a little.

Then he realizes what this is, excitement filling him a bit as he pulls you closer. “There’s not enough room in here baby.”

Even as he says it you bump into a mop while trying to move closer. “Jesus. This place sucks.”

“Hey now. Mop closets can be fun.” He coos, rubbing your hips before helping you turn around. “Hands on the door princess.”

Without any hesitation you do as he says which makes him smile, still rubbing at your hips slowly while you use to door to keep yourself upright. Slowly, so slowly, he moves his hands down until he can start shuffling your skirt up a bit.

“Is this okay?” He whispers in your ear, waiting a moment before he keeps doing it for your confirmation. When you nod he shakes his head. “You know the rules.”

“Yes.” You snap, pulling your head back to look at him. He smiles, even with the attitude and keeps working your skirt up.

“I just want your consent princess. Is that so hard?” He huffs.

“If I said no would you stop?” It’s meant to be an off handed jab, he knows this, but the second the words fall from your lips he freezes, not moving a single inch as a quiet rage fills him.

“I’m sorry?” He snaps.

“It’s just….. well wouldn’t you be like… upset?” You ask, gazing behind you for eye contact.

“Did you say no to Harrington or Kelleck?” He snaps, his voice closer to a whisper but still powerful. “Princess if you-“

“I didn’t. Eds I didn’t say no. It was all consensual.” You rush out, trying to move to face him but he keeps his firm hold on you.

“Did they give you enough time to say no?”

“Steve did.” You nod.

“Not Kelleck?!”

“Baby please.” You huff, leaning up to kiss him quickly. “I want you. I don’t wanna talk about that right now.”

“But-“ before he can argue you are grinding back into him which makes him curse out sharply. “We’re talking about this later.”

“Mkay.” You huff, letting him nip at your ear before his hands begin sliding again. They move your skirt up past your hips and you with the waistband of your panties before sliding in.

“This okay?” He asks, fingers moving closer and closer.

“Yep.” Your answer is short and clipped, mostly because you were already focusing on that burning feeling in your lower gut as his fingers slip to begin rubbing through your folds.

Out of basic reaction your thighs try pushing together but his own leg is there slamming between yours to slot them open and give him better access, a loud moan passing your lips as you bend forward a bit so your forehead is pressed to the door.

He slides the pads of his fingers long your folds, leaning to his back was pressed to yours as his left hand comes up to your hip.

“Look at you.” He huffs. “Such a pretty fucking princess for me right now.”

“Eds!” You whine, hips wiggling. Without warning he slots two fingers inside you, making you inhale sharply and shut your eyes as he curls them.

“Are you my pretty princess?” He coos, kissing behind your ear.

“Yes!” You moan back, feeling his hands begin pressing in and out of you at a rapid pace, the metal chain bracelet he always wears pressing on your clit with every movement.

“This is my favorite skirt of yours.” He admits, the hand on your hip punching the fabric. “Your pretty in pink skirt.”

You can’t even find the words to respond and his thumb flicks you expertly , the tight coiling fleeing making you want to close your legs but his own leg keeps them shoved apart still.

“I knew I wanted you then. You know that?” He laughs. “The night you called me? Second I got off the phone and I fucked my fist with the image of you in my jacket.”

“Baby.” You try to catch your breath, but everything is a haze of pleasure. Your arms and legs are shaking.

“My sweet girl.” He mumbles into your neck, adding two more fingers and sending you right over the edge. One of your hands comes to grip his hair as the other scratches at the door as you cry out shaking wildly while cumming on his fingers. “Perfect. As usual.”

You try not to roll your eyes as he brings his fingers up to suck on them, but that feeling in your lower stomach coils again at the image.

“Fuck me….. please.” You whine and he laughs before shaking his head.

“Not in this place. Not even close.” He turns you around and works on fixing you up, setting your panties right and sliding your skirt down before licking his thumbs to swipe your makeup and clean it.

In a last ditch attempt you slide your hand across his abdomen. “I wore the jacket you know….”

“Hmm?”

“On the date with Steve? Wore it the whole time. Even when he fucked me.” Eddie’s eyes widen at that, pressing into you a bit as he blinks.

“Y-yeah?”

“And when we were fucking, I just couldn’t get into it. So I closed my eyes and inhaled your scent…..” you grasp his hand, sliding it up your body before landing it on your boob. He immediately squeezes. “And I imagined you touched me like this as you fucked me.”

“M-me? You imagined me?” He blinks, flushing a bit.

“Uh huh.” You pant, letting him squeeze at your breast.

“Fuck.” He grunts, leaning forward to kiss you before there is knocking on the door that makes you both jump.

“I need a mop fuckers.” Someone grunts and you smile, watching Eddie sigh out before shimmying his leather jacket off and helping you slide it on.

When you enter the lighter side of the door you have to blink to readjust as a blonde kid on the other side smiles at you both.

“Hey Simon.” Eddie grunts with surprise, and you note the nail polish on the kids hands.

“Hey Eddie. Eddie’s girl.” The kid smiles from ear to ear. “You christen my place up nice?”

“Perv.” Eddie mumbles, pulling you to his side as he leads you away.

“How do you know him?” You ask, playing with the chain bracelet as you walk.

“He has a friend named Kate. We both sell for Rick,”

“Sell? Like….?”

“Sell baby. Drugs.”

“Really?” You gape up at him. How did you not know this? “So do you…. Get high?”

“Yep. Why? You want to?” There is a gleam in his eye as you get closer to the group.

“No. Of course not.”’you huff, moving to hug Jeff the second he opens his arms for you.

-

“Oh. My. God.” You mumble, fingers digging into the carpet of his trailer as you lean against the couch, trying to relax a bit. Your eyes are closed, but the room is still spinning into a galaxy.

After a couple moments, you riding out the spins, you feel a tap on your thigh pulling your attention to Eddie. He sits beside you, head leaning against the couch as well, watching you carefully.

“You okay princess?” He mumbles and you can do nothing but nod.

His hand stays on your thigh, thumb rubbing soft circles and you can feel everything, your body rooting you back to this planet and keeping you there. “Keep your hands on me.”

It’s an order, one that makes him smile as you close your eyes. “Don’t let go Eds.”

“Never. Keeping you with me forever.” He grunts, squeezing a bit before you both close your eyes and ride the high a bit. Your head rolls to his shoulder, pressing your lips to his arm as you begin to trace patterns on his skin with your tongue.

“What are you doing?”

“I like you without a shirt.” You giggle, not opening your eyes but still able to picture him in his boxers all the same. “I want to see you naked.”

You hear him inhale sharply, hand squeezing your thigh harshly before easing up a bit. “You can’t say stuff like that without warning.”

“Why?” You whine.

“Cause I nearly fucking came right there.” He growls, pulling your attention to him and making you open your eyes before he is kissing you.

You don’t know how long you kiss for, could he seconds or hours, all you know was that everything felt so fucking good.

“Fuck me.” You plead. “Please.”

“Room. Now.” He orders, both of you helping each other there and landing on the bed quickly. You plan on him landing on top of you, only to be surprised when he remains kneeling above you and moving to ship your panties off.

“I’m not fucking you like this.” He grunts.

“Please-“

“No.” He snaps, fingers already sliding against you. You sit up, eyes narrowing at the tent in his boxers before you huff and slam your legs shut, pushing his fingers away.

“What’s wrong?” He mumbles, blinking slowly, too high to tell if you’re hurt or angry. “I’m sorry-“

Before he can back away from the bed your snatching the waistband of his boxers. “Off.”

“No.” He laughs.

“Fine. Then my panties go back on.” He stares yiu down before rolling his eyes and standing to shuck the boxers off. Holy. Fucking. Gods.

He was big. Wayyyy too big. You wouldn’t be able to fit that, he would break your cervix open and-

A hand covers your mouth, looking up to see Eddie breathing ragged. “Give me a fucking chance here doll. I’m about to cum.”

You hadn’t even realized you had been saying it all out loud. He lets go of your mouth, moving up the bed until you are both laying on his pillows against the headboard.

“Touch yourself and I’ll touch myself.” He offers, and how can you fucking refuse?

Within moments you're rubbing yourself, watching closely as his eyes train to your center, his own hand sliding down slowly as his thumb begins rubbing at his length. “Show me how you do it at home.”

“Eddie.” You whine, rubbing faster. One finger slips in and then another, and you try to keep it up but you’re just a little too high to keep anything going. So you let out a frustrated grunt, stopping and watching him instead.

His eyebrows are pinched together as he aggressively pumps his fist across himself. “Don’t stop.” He begs.

“I can’t.” You whine back. “Not enough.”

Just like that he stops, huffing with irritation before he nods and gets up. “I’ll be right back.”

You wait patiently, and watch when he comes back with….. “no.”

“Why not?”

“That’s a tooth brush.” You scoff, watching his face light up with joy when he turns it on.

“No.”

“It’s mine, not Wayne’s.” He huffs moving across the bed to get closer.

“It’s gonna…..” you bite your lip, watching as he kneels before you, moving both your legs over his thighs until you were splayed out for him.

“You trust me?”

“Yes.” You admit. Watching a smile crack out on his face before he plunges the vibrating toothbrush into you and turns it on, keeping his thumb right on your clit so the vibrations move throughout.

A moan slips from your lips, watching as he spits in his hand before beginning to pump himself again, eyes wild at the scene before him.

Everytime he pumps his fist he shoves the toothbrush back into you, starting a rhythm that has you moaning loudly.

“You’re gonna be so tight when i fuck you.” He grunts. “Arent ya?”

“You’re so big.” You coo, the high from the drug’s heightening your pleasure as you arch off his bed. “There she is. There’s my good girl.” He smiles. “You gonna be this good when I’m ramming into you?”

“I will.” You nod. “I’ll be so good.”

“Swear it?”

“I swear it. I swear it dungeon master.” You nod, watching in real time as his eyes widen at the name and white spurts explode from his length all over your thighs and center.

“FUCK!” He yelps, eyes slamming shut as his high racks through him. “FUCK SHIT FUCK!”

“You’re so hot.” You whine, leaning up to continue pumping and milking him. “You’re such a good-“

He pushes you back quickly,‘throwing the toothbrush across the room so hardly you hear it slam and shut off at the impact while he readjusts himself so his face was shoved between your thighs.

Next thing you know he is lapping at your cunt.

“OH MY GOD!” You gasp, immediately grinding up into his face, shuddering as his nose pressed to your clit.

He stays down there, devouring you like a madman and finally your high comes. Paired with the weed you feel like your spinning, thighs clamped around his head as you spiral before it ends and you try to back away. But his own hands snatch you to stop you as he keeps going.

“Baby?” You ask, overstimulated and whiny.

He looks up at you, face gleaming with yours and his juices as he growls. “Mine.”

“Uh huh.”

And just like that he goes back to it.

He doesn’t let up until you finish 4 more times, a sobbing shaking mess that he gets to cuddle.

-

You suck him off in a double feature of some weird Star Wars movies, sitting in the back row.

You had grown bored of the shit film quickly and took to kissing around his face, over and over over as he closed his eyes and moaned out in the nearly empty theater. Not that anyone could hear him anyways.

His hand slides across your thighs and to your center before you slap it away. “Watch your movies perv.”

He huffs a laugh, pulling his hand back to keep watching the film before your hands undo his belt.

“Woah.” He huffs, gulping down. “You sure?”

“Want it so bad.” You giggle, immediately leaning over to take him in your mouth once he is freed. He hisses through his teeth, hand immediately flying to your hair and you suck on the tip, licking in circles before sliding your tongue along the slit at the top which makes him hiss and thrust up.

“Baby-“ you whine and he whispers an apology before you take as much as you can in your mouth, gagging a bit as you blow out your cheeks.

As the background music and shooting of those weird blaster guns fills the theater he begins thrusting up, using your hair to pull you up for down with his thrusts and your eyes water in a good way.

He grunts out when he feels your hot tears fall onto the exposed skin of his pelvis, pulling you off so he can look at your tear stained face.

A wave of panic consumes him thinking he hurt you before your sliding to the ground on your knees, taking him into your mouth again, allowing him to begin thrusting once more as he cums in your mouth while Luke fights Vader.

-

(This next part might not be for everyone but sometimes sharing is caring so )

You ask so blow Jeff at the Dnd meeting 3 weeks later. You had been straddling Eddie in his seat, playing with his hair when Jeff came in early, eyes wide as he said hello.

He was always so respectful, even when he pitched a tent.

So you turned back to Eddie, leaning in to whisper “can I take care of him?”

“Only if you want to and he wants to.” Eddie smiles. “You know I won’t be mad baby.”

And so you smile, sliding off his lap and moving closer to a Jeff who stares at you with wide eyes.

“Can I help?”

“Shit- I’m sorry. I’ll go.” He rushes out, thinking it’s a trap until you stop him.

“I can help,” you smile. “Help me learn how to please Eddie bit more too.”

And just like that your friend is nodding, watching as you readjust his chair so you can slide down and undo his pants.

“I’m sorry eddie.” Jeff whines when you free him.

“Don’t be sorry.” He laughs. “You want me to leave for a little?”

Jeff doesn’t answer, so you turn to nod at him to help relax the boy. eddie winks, leaning to kiss your forehead and drape his jacket around your shoulders before getting up and shuffling off.

“You really don’t have to princess.” Jeff breathes out. “Really this was enough in its own.”

“You don’t want me to?” You coo, tracing your finger along his hip bone. “I wanna be Eddie’s slut.”

“Oh fucking Christ.” He moans, head falling back as you take him in your mouth.

-

That night eddie eats your out like his life depends on it, fingering you and lapping at your folds as you moan and squirm beneath him. “I want you so bad. Please!”

And he gives him finally, smiling from ear to ear and he crawls up your body and leans to his nightstand to grab a - shit. Where were the condoms.

“Baby.” He moans. “We might have a problem.”

“What?”

“I don’t have condoms…..” you glare for a moment before you both start laughing loudly at your luck, moving to hug eachother.

“I can suck you off and then we can watch a movie.” You offer, kissing along his jaw. “We can get some condoms tomorrow.”

“I’m in.”

{The request for this wishes to remain anon so hope you enjoyed it and don’t ever feel nasty about requesting cause sometimes we all need just pure filth. ;) }

#eddie munson smut #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanart #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff

[munson-blurbs]

A little Eddie x bookworm!Reader fluff for my beloved @corroded-hellfire 💚 thank you for being my soulmate. You mean more to me than you’ll ever know.

The school library is your favorite place to be. Surrounded by stillness and books, rows and rows of novels that allow you to escape into your own fantasy world. You love it so much that you’ve started volunteering there after school just to embrace its feeling.

“What’re you in for?”

The voice startles you, breaking your focus of reshelving mysteries. You turn around to see Eddie Munson standing beside you, pushing a cart of paperbacks. “Wh-What?”

“The manual labor,” he clarifies, gesturing to your book stack. “I accidentally told O’Donnell to kiss my ass, so Higgins stuck me here. Guess he finally realized that detention wasn’t helping me ‘learn my lesson.’”

You’re not quite sure how someone can accidentally tell a teacher to kiss their ass, but you move on. “Oh, um, nothing. I mean, I just help out here. For fun.” You cringe at the phrasing. Yes, while most people are out partying, I hang out in the library. Try not to be jealous of how cool I am.

Eddie just nods. “Fellow bookworm, huh? Nice.” He glances around the library. “You’re really smart, right? Probably read everything in this place.”

“Pretty much,” you agree, even though it’s far from the truth. Your crush on Eddie Munson is beyond cliché: shy honors student falling for the metalhead bad boy. He leaves you both tongue-tied and rambling. “I didn’t know you liked to read, too. What’s your favorite book?”

He brings his hand to his heart as though he’s just been stabbed, stumbling back dramatically until he bumps into a bookshelf. “That’s like asking a mother to pick her favorite child,” Eddie laments, rubbing the back of his head where it collided with the shelf. When he does, his Hellfire shirt rides up slightly, exposing a pale sliver of stomach. “I love anything Tolkien writes, but pretty much anything fantasy is fair game.” He hands you a book to shelve as he asks, “What about you?”

“Fantasy’s…fantasy’s good,” you manage, embarrassed at how flustered you got by just seeing a bit of his skin. You grab another book off of his cart. “But I’m especially partial to the classics. Like Little Women.”

You expect him to scoff at that, but he just plucks a pen from his back pocket and clicks it open, scrawling the title on his calloused palm. “Little…Women.” His tongue pokes out from between his lips as he concentrates, skin not the best medium for writing. “Okay, now I’ll remember to read it.”

You spend the next hour shelving books with him and swapping stories. Eddie tells you about his band and his D&D Club, and you confide in him that you’re working on writing your own novel. His eyes widen at the information. “No shit!” he exclaims, seemingly unaware of his otherwise quiet surroundings. “How much have you written?”

“Just an outline so far,” you admit, but he’s already excited.

“Bring it with you tomorrow,” he instructs, “and I’ll read it after we’re done.”

You cock your eyebrow at this. “How many days of manual labor did Higgins give you?”

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to be bashful. “Just, uh, just the one.” His cheeks tinge pink. “But I’d like to keep talking with you.” He lets his fingers brush against yours for just a moment, but it’s enough to tell you that there’s hope for something beyond friendship here.

“Yeah, okay,” you smile, returning the empty cart to the circulation desk and shutting the lights. “Walk me to the bus stop?”

“I’ll do you one better,” he offers with a grin. “Let me give you a lift home?”

And who are you to deny this cute, metalhead, bookworm bad boy?

—

#eddie munson #fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fluff

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

A Day with Duckie (Sequel to Three Generations)

Pairing: Rooster / Fem!Reader (Wife!Reader)

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Rooster is a Dad; Female Reader with No Name or Physical Description, No Y/N, Third Person POV; OC Bradshaw Kid without Physical Description (minus a reference to his smile being similar to Rooster's)

This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.

Summary: Maverick takes Kai to the zoo for the day and finds out why Rooster was so insistent upon needing a babysitter.

Part of Three Generations Universe

Master List

About three months after the mission, the Bradshaw family permanently moved from Virginia Beach to San Diego. And they even moved into a house that was only a seven-minute drive from Maverick’s small residence. So, Maverick was over just about every other day. He tried to not encroach on their family time, but Rooster and his wife assured Maverick that they loved having him around.

And the free babysitting offers.

Rooster’s wife always sounded worried that she was completely inconveniencing him when she asked Maverick to pick Kai up from daycare or watch him for a few hours, but Maverick hadn’t turned them down once. He already missed so much time out of Kai’s life and Rooster’s, so any opportunity that he had to spend with either of them, he was going to take it.

And today, Maverick was going to take Kai out to the zoo for the day. Rooster texted him a few days ago, practically begging for Maverick to watch Kai for a few hours, and even offered to pay him. As if Maverick would take any money for watching Grandbaby Goose.

Gliding through the relatively quaint streets of Miramar, Maverick hummed a tune to himself as he made his way to the Bradshaw family home. He pulled into the driveway and parked his Kawasaki beside the Bronco. Turning off the engine, Maverick reached up to undo the strap of his new helmet that Penny bought him only a month ago.

It followed an afternoon where Kai was learning how to ride his bike and gave his mom a bit of sass about not needing to wear a helmet since ‘Mav doesn’t wear one.’ And, so, every time that there was even a chance that Maverick would see Kai, he wore his helmet. Penny even somehow got one customized to replicate the markings on his pilot helmet.

Walking up to the Bradshaw house, Maverick knocked on the door and waited patiently to be let inside. A few seconds later, Rooster opened the door. But before Maverick could even greet him, he was attacked by a very excited four-year-old with seemingly limitless energy.

“Mav!” Kai screeched happily, wrapping his little body around Maverick’s leg.

“Hey, Kai,” Maverick chuckled, stumbling back a little bit. “You excited to go to the zoo?”

“Yeah!”

“And what do you say to Mav for taking you to the zoo?” Rooster asked his son, in that classic ‘parent giving a lesson’ tone.

“Thank you, Mav!”

“Anytime, Kai,” Maverick chuckled, ruffling Kai’s hair.

“Thanks for taking him again,” Rooster replied, letting Maverick hobble inside with Kai on his leg. “We really appreciate it.”

“Stop thanking me for it,” Maverick told Rooster with the classic grandparent tone.

“Can we go?” Kai pleaded, grabbing Maverick’s hand and tugging it a bit.

“Kai, wait a second. Your mom’s still packing your bag,” Rooster stated somewhat firmly. “And you need to put some sunscreen on.”

Kai let out a sigh, but stopped tugging on Maverick’s hand. When Rooster walked off to grab some sunscreen, Maverick squatted down to Kai’s height and motioned for him to come closer, like he had government secrets. Kai quickly perked up and cupped his little hands around his ear for Maverick to whisper his ‘secret.’

“Don’t worry. The zoo’s not even open yet. We’re not missing out on anything,” Maverick assured Kai, poking him in the side.

Kai let out a little giggle and curled away from Maverick, rubbing his side. But the smile on Kai’s face quickly dropped when he saw Rooster returning with sunscreen in hand. Kai didn’t fight his dad, but he certainly pouted through the whole thing. He even shot Maverick a look that screamed ‘see what I have to deal with?’ that made Maverick have to hide a chuckle behind his hand.

As Rooster was finishing up with Kai’s sunscreen, Rooster’s wife walked into the room with a small bag for the day. She greeted Maverick with a wide, kind smile and a quick squeeze of a hug.

“Thank you again for taking him to the zoo,” Rooster’s wife stated as she handed the bag over to Maverick. “He’s been dying to go since we moved out here.”

“Any time,” Maverick assured her, putting the bag on his shoulder.

“Can we go now?” Kai called loudly, sliding out of his dad’s grip easily due to the sunscreen.

“Yeah, you can go,” Rooster replied, handing the bottle of sunscreen over to Maverick. “Behave for Maverick, okay, Kai?”

After a quick set of goodbyes and Kai all but dragging Maverick through the front door, they headed out for the day. Rooster handed Maverick the keys to his wife’s car, which was the car with Kai’s car seat already in it. Maverick set up Kai in his seat and put his little backpack down on the ground before walking around to the driver’s seat.

“Alright, talk to me, Duckie. Am I clear to maneuver?” Maverick asked Kai as he started the car.

Kai made a dramatic show of whipping around to check the driveway and the road for any sign of cars or other hazards. And Maverick, although he already knew that he was clear and was going to triple check for any dangers anyways with precious cargo in the backseat, waited patiently for Kai to finish up with his thorough check.

“You’re clear, Mav!”

“Copy that, Duckie.”

~~~~~

The zoo was rather full on a nice Saturday, but Maverick and Kai intended to have a good time anyways. Kai was still bursting with energy and pointing at everything that he could see and identify. And even though his identification skills were not always accurate, he certainly sold his story.

Kai waved to his ‘Uncle Coyote,’ even though the animal in question was certainly not Javy Machado and was actually a wolf, not a coyote. He also practically screamed in greeting to ‘Grandpa Goose,’ even though the animal was actually a spoonbill.

Maverick was having a wonderful time and happily snapped plenty of photos of Kai for Rooster and his wife in front of just about every exhibit. They made their way through the penguins, the big cats, and now they were on their way over to the reptiles. And, of course, they had to stop by the grander bird exhibits before they left.

Walking around the outside exhibits, Maverick led Kai by the hand as they entered the tortoise area. However, Maverick quickly noticed a frazzled looking zookeeper diverting people further down the path. And when Maverick saw what the tortoises were doing, he quickly understood the situation.

“Let’s keep walking, Kai,” Maverick tried to urge Kai, but Kai inherited his father’s stubbornness.

“But I want to see the turtles,” Kai stated, tugging a bit on Maverick’s hand. “They’re right there.”

“Oh, yeah, they are,” Maverick chuckled nervously, sharing a look with the flustered zookeeper. “Alright, we saw them, so—”

“—What are they doing?” Kai asked curiously, turning to the zookeeper.

“Um,” the zookeeper grunted out, forcing a smile, “they’re, uh . . . they’re just playing with each other.”

“Oh,” Kai held out, nodding along. He turned to Maverick with an innocent smile. “I saw Mommy and Daddy playing like that!”

The zookeeper let out a noise between a squeak and a gasp and slapped a hand over their mouth. A set of heads swiveled over to Kai and Maverick as Maverick tried to not let his eyes pop out of his skill. Maverick didn’t get embarrassed often or severely. But holy hell, he wanted to get away from those stupid turtles or tortoises or whatever the hell they were in that exact moment.

And, well, maybe he figured out why Rooster was so desperate to have someone babysit Kai.

“That’s . . .” Maverick trailed off, unable to find the right word to use. After a few more moments, Maverick quickly whipped around and pointed over at the next exhibit. “Oh, look, Kai, there’s some ducks over there!”

“Where?” Kai asked, whipping around too.

“Oh, you just missed them, but they went this way, come on,” Maverick replied, dragging Kai with him.

“Okay!”

~~~~~

After a dinner of burgers, fries, and milkshakes and a quick stop at a hardware store, Maverick and Kai returned to the Bradshaw family home.

The sun had already started to set, but there was still a glow of light left in the day. Kai was a bit sleepy, so Maverick scooped him up and carried him inside. Kai insisted that he was old enough to not take a nap, but his energy still seemed to have a limit. At least after 5 PM.

The door was already open for him by the time that Maverick walked around. Rooster stepped outside, dressed in a pair of gym shorts and a casual tank top. He smiled softly when he spotted Kai half-asleep against Maverick’s shoulder.

“You tuckered out, Kai?” Rooster called out to his son.

“No,” Kai protested sleepily.

“Alright,” Rooster replied with a light chuckle, taking Kai into his arms.

“I got a you, Daddy,” Kai stated, picking his head up as he transferred hands.

“A me?” Rooster asked, sounding confused.

Maverick opened the bag that he was carrying and held up a brand-new stuffed rooster from the zoo gift shop. Rooster let out a light laugh before pressing a kiss to the top of Kai’s head.

“Yeah, you did, bud,” Rooster agreed as he headed inside. As Maverick stepped inside behind Rooster, Rooster’s wife walked over.

“Hi, Kai. Hi, Mav, how was the zoo?” she asked kindly.

“Well, I can’t speak for Duckie, but I had a great time,” Maverick replied, smiling proudly.

“Was it fun, Kai, honey?” Rooster’s wife called again, rubbing his back soothingly.

“Good,” Kai mumbled out quietly.

“Ok, let’s get you to bed,” Rooster’s wife stated, pulling Kai into her arms and heading for the stairs. She shot Mav a smile and a small wave. “Thanks for taking him, Mav.”

“Any time,” Maverick replied, returning the nod. Once Kai and his mom were out of earshot, Maverick turned to Rooster. “But I have one last gift for you.”

“What? What gift?” Rooster asked, sounding confused. 

Maverick led Rooster out to the car and pulled out a bag from the trunk. Handing it over to Rooster, Maverick motioned for Rooster to open it. Rooster shot Maverick a look, but begrudgingly opened the bag. Pulling out the door lock that Maverick bought him, Rooster took about three half-seconds to register what the gift was, before turning pink with embarrassment.

“He told you?” Rooster groaned, holding a hand to his face.

“Well, apparently there were two tortoises who were ‘playing’ like ‘Mommy and Daddy’ at the zoo,” Maverick replied, folding his arms over his chest. “He forgot about it in about three seconds, but I thought that I should get you a lock. Just in case.”

“You cannot tell anyone,” Rooster begged Maverick, grabbing his shoulder gently. “Mav, I’m dead serious. My wife wouldn’t even look at me for a day after that.”

“I won’t,” Maverick assured Rooster. “Just wanted to spread the embarrassment.”

“You know that I can’t bring this inside, right?” Rooster replied, holding up the lock.

“I’ll leave it in your car,” Maverick stated, plucking it out of Rooster’s hand and putting it into the Bronco. Chuckling to himself, Maverick shook his head, far too proud of himself and this little joke. “You know, if you and the missus needed some alone time, you could have just said that. I babysat you all the time so that your parents could—”

“—Mav, as much as I would love to talk about that,” Rooster interjected, causing Maverick to laugh. “But thank you for watching Kai. We really appreciate it. And he really looks up to you and likes spending time with you.”

“I’m always here if you guys need me,” Maverick promised, nodding curtly. “And tell Duckie that I’ll have the side car attached to my old bike in about a week.”

“I will,” Rooster returned, before he paused. “Wait, what!?”

#rooster x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun fanfiction #tgm #tgm fic #pete maverick mitchell

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #1] Purple Starfuckers

warnings: alcohol, clubbing

soundtrack: bad decisions - bts, passionfruit - drake, promiscuous - nelly furtado & timbaland

wc: 3.5k

bd total wc: 540k (on-going)

minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist 

"Don't think of it as a bad decision. Think of it as a lesson learned. Something to remember for next time."

The way Hoseok looks at you is borderline comical - face all scrunched up, mouth hanging ajar. He's scowling, but it isn't new. He's had a face like a slapped arse all evening. Kinda goes with the territory of a fresh break-up, mind you.

"You don't seriously believe that?" He scoffs, before swallowing his words down with the rum and coke that he's been nursing for the past fifteen minutes. It tastes like shit, and is far too strong - but he's the one who asked for a triple. No one else to blame

The bartender had raised his pierced brow, told Hoseok that he's "not allowed to do that" - but had offered to make him a double and pour a separate shot, instead. "What you do with that shot is up to you," the bartender had shrugged - and so Hoseok had poured it straight on in. 

You finish your own drink with a roll of your eyes and shake of your head. "What I believe is that she wasn't 'the one', Hobes. Was a lucky escape, if you ask me. She was fucking vile to me and Danbi."

"You guys just didn't get to know her proper-"

"Hobi, she wore white to Jungmi's wedding," Danbi interrupted. Truthfully, she could not have cared less for how badly Hoseok's ex had treated her - it was when she started behaving badly around other people, embarrassing them in the process, that she started to take offence. If there was one thing Danbi had, it was pride. "WHITE! Who does that?! Poor Jungmi. She's a better woman than me. I'd have fought that bitch on the spot, right in the aisle. Don't care if it's my wedding day, when bitches deserve a slap-"

"Dan," you laugh but try and get her to quiet down, knowing that Hoseok is still reeling from the break-up. As true as her words are, he doesn't need to hear them right now. Turning to Hoseok, you stroke up his shoulder tenderly, with a soft smile on your glossy lips. 

You didn't cover yourself head to toe in glitter just to sit in the smoking area of a shitty club all night. There's fun to be had.

"Look, Hobes, it sucks that things ended the way they did -" a screaming match over the price of asparagus in the middle of a supermarket, that was totally an argument about something more than that, but Hoseok is still in denial - "but not everything we lose is a loss. Okay? You've still got us."

Which is admittedly more than he deserves after how much of a shitbag he'd turned into during the relationship. He'd go days, weeks - hell - sometimes months, without getting back to you. You and Dan had been fine - you had each other after all - but it still sucked not having your third musketeer with you. 

"Now c'mon," you smile. "Get that drink down you, and get that pretty ass of yours on the floor. We both know you're dying for a good dance."

"I don't feel like it," he groans - but he downs his drink regardless, and is dancing to a noughties classic within five minutes. 

You think it's Nelly Furtado - it is - but you're so drunk that you can't really place it. It's the kind of song that everyone knows; the kind of song that gets everyone's hips moving just right. Bodies are hot and sweaty, the clammy dancefloor a pit of sin. To you, though, it feels like heaven at that moment. This is all you've wanted for months. You're holding Danbi's hands, Hoseok between the pair of you, unable to escape and not really wanting to, either. He's smiling, and it's the best thing you've seen all night. 

The lights of the club beam down on you, pinks and blues reflecting the satin dress you're wearing. It's short, barely covering your ass, and silver. Picked out especially for a night like this; when attention is welcome, but not necessarily encouraged. You think you look like a trophy. Maybe someone will be lucky enough to win you. Maybe not.

From the bar, Jeon Jeongguk thinks you look like a little disco ball. 

He's wiping a tumbler dry, fresh from the glass washer, making most of the lull in customers coming to the bar. There are only three of them behind it, and it always makes Friday shifts feel that little bit more hectic. 

Dionysus, a club just on the outskirts of the party district, is always busier on a Saturday, so he prefers Friday shifts. A relatively small club, it has only a single dancefloor and a bar area with a few seats. The back entrance leads to the smoking area, which is where he'd first noticed you coming from with your friends. There's nowhere to hide, really, in a club like this. If you're in Dionysus, everyone knows about it. 

Especially the bartenders. 

"What do we reckon," Yeonjun, the youngest of the crew, smirks at Jeongguk as he nods towards you and your friends. "They all going home together, or what?"

A little air squeaks through Jeongguk's lips as he purses them, trying to get a read on your little trio. The way you're moving your hips towards the dude in the middle certainly seems a little more than friendly. At least, if a girl he'd never met before was dancing with him like that, he'd take it as a good sign he was getting laid. 

What makes it interesting is the fact that there are two of you. You in silver, another girl in black. Both pretty. Both incredibly different, but both captivating nonetheless. Like a pair of shooting stars, he thinks, cracking through the crowd at a vibrancy that could blind. Is a little confused as to how the fuck you aren't being pestered by other guys - doesn't complain though. Makes for a clear line of vision.

It's nights like these which make Jeongguk wish he worked a normal job. He misses out on all the fun always being behind the bar, he thinks. Does also save him from making some bad decisions that he knows would surely haunt him. If anything, he should be thankful.

"Fuck knows," he simply says, closing the glasswasher and whipping the towel over his shoulder. "10,000 won says he's going home alone."

Yeonjun smirks. "You're on."

It's less of a bet for Jeongguk. More of a manifestation. He likes watching you dance. Doesn't like the thought of you dancing with the dude by yourself. Doesn't like the idea of you leaving with him, either. Considers the fact that maybe you're not even interested in dudes, and that it's the girl you're holding hands with who you'll be leaving with instead. He's less intimidated by that - at least your disinterest in him would be preference based - but it's still not his favourite scenario.

It's not like he knows you, nor will he ever know you. He just likes to live in the what-ifs. They're always so much safer. Can't get rejected if you don't put yourself out there.

And so he carries on with work just like he should, serving the next punters who stumble to the bar. He pours them a water with their order, because lord knows they need it, and laughs when someone tries to pay for it thinking it's a vodka lemonade. 

"On the house," he shrugs, letting their drunk minds believe it really is a vodka lemonade. Easier that way. Will get them drinking water, at least, even if just for a sip or so before they clock on.

You're laughing, a little out of breath and not entirely steady on your feet, as you head to the bar. 

He'd been so busy with the last customers that he didn't even notice until he saw you using the bar to help steady yourself. You aren't looking in his direction, but up at the row of spirits behind him, trying to sus out what you fancy. 

Your hair is dark, up in a ponytail with grown-out bangs framing your face. The makeup you've been wearing has faded, melted off from the heat of the club, but the glitter remains. You really do look like a disco ball, he thinks. It makes him smile.

"Hey, sorry," you beam towards him, eyes just as sparkling at the glitter dusted on your collarbones. He raises his brows, expression open, receptive, as he moves closer to the bar. "What's something that can get me fucked up but also tastes delicious?" 

Oh, how he loves a challenge. He licks his lips and tilts his head to the side. "What do you qualify as delicious?"

"No passionfruit," you say almost instantly. "So no pornstars." And then you gag a little, to emphasise just how much you hate passionfruit.

"No pornstars, noted," Jeongguk says as he pulls an imaginary pencil from behind his ear and pretends to jot it down on his palm. He looks back up at you, and doesn't bother fighting the way his teeth bite down on his bottom lip - why would he? You're giggling. He likes it. And he also knows you're probably drunk, so won't remember this interaction in the morning. 

"Well, I mean, none of the drinking variety," you grin, tongue in cheek. "If you happen to know any of the human variety, send them my way."

He almost chokes on his own spit. The shock in his eyes has you laughing again.

"I'm joking, you idiot."

Although you kind of totally aren't. You haven't been laid in a while. You'll take anything with a pulse who is interested at this point. 

"I knew that," he bluffs, and looks back down at his palm as if he's reading again. "Okay, so no pornstars - pornstar martinis. What else?"

"Don't like orange juice."

"Do you like anything?"

You like lots of things. So many things that your brain can't think straight, actually.

You like the way a tattoo is peaking out of his shirt sleeve. You like dancing with your friends. Being drunk. His smile. The way he's joking with you. The knowledge that Hoseok is probably doing the robot as you speak. Sunsets. The chain around the neck of the man in front of you. Those cute tiny straws he puts in some of the cocktails. Him.  

But you narrow your eyes, and ignore your brain. "Alcohol." 

He narrows his eyes right back. Purses his lips. Looks down at his fake notepad, then back up at you. "I think I have just the thing for you."

Reaching for the plastic cups which you know are reserved for water, you almost look offended. Does he not think you have eyes? Are too drunk to know he's giving you water?

He places it in front of you and smiles, lips together, eyes round - but still challenging you.

"It's water," you tell him, and he nods. No denial.

"Uh-huh. Cleanse your palette first."

"Are we fine dining?"

"We aren't doing anything," he assures you. He's on the clock. "But everything tastes like shit after a smoke, so if you wanna enjoy it, have some water."

Your brows furrow together, head tilting and then you're self-conscious. "Do I smell like smoke?"

You'd doused yourself in perfume and had been chewing on gum to hide it, but apparently not well enough.

Jeongguk shakes his head, realising how much wider your eyes are. You don't seem as confident. You're not smiling anymore. 

"No, no," he says quickly and nods toward your clutch, which is propped open on the side of the bar. A packet of cigarettes are sticking out slightly, a lighter tucked into the side. "I just guessed - sorry. I didn't mean to- I mean, no. You don't. Not at all."

You follow his gaze, and find yourself smiling. Small misunderstanding. That's all. But he seems just as panicked as you had been. It's sweet. 

"Fine," you elongate your response and let your eyes narrow again, to let him know you're ready to banter again. "I'll drink it - but whatever you're making better be good."

"If you hate it, it's on the house," he says, knowing that you won't hate it. He sets about making your drink as you sip on the water, not really watching him because you're trying to focus on not falling over. Water actually seems like a great idea. You're thankful for it. 

When Jeongguk returns to your spot by the bar, he can't stop blinking. The glass of water - an entire pint - is finished. You're smiling, lips a little wet, eyes a little hazy.

"Thirsty," you shrug. 

He checks your jaw to make sure it's not grinding, but it's perfectly still. Not a gram of MD - the drug of choice in Dionysus circles - in your system. You just really are thirsty - had been dancing all bloody night. He knows this, but he's naive to how hot it is down there. Hasn't actually been on the dancefloor himself in a while. Always working.

He accepts your defence, and holds up the shot in front of you. It's tiny, and pretty, all purple and shimmery. 

Jeongguk smiles. "Purple Starfucker."

The water you've just finished almost comes back up through your system. "Sorry?!"

"Purple Starfucker," Jeongguk simply repeats. "Amaretto, peach schnapps, a little curacao and cranberry juice. Fucking delicious."

You do love all of those. It's the ideal drink for you. You've never had it before, but you know it's gonna be good. He places it down in front of you, but that challenging look is still in your eye. 

He laughs a little. Can't figure you out. Has no idea what you're thinking. "What are you waiting for?"

"Nothing," you grin, picking the shot glass up by the rim, raising it with a nod. "To Purple Starfuckers."

Jeongguk nods back. Toys with his lip piercing, the tip of his tongue peeking out ever so slightly before he bites down on his lip. "To Purple Starfuckers."

From his peripherals, Jeongguk can see Yeonjun leaning against the countertop at the back of the bar, watching him with a curious smirk.

Un-fucking-believable, Yeonjun thinks. Reckons Jeongguk is trying to fuck with the bet. Trying to lure Disco Ball away. He doesn't hear the conversation, but he can read your lips - 'Holy shit? That's fucking delicious? How much do I owe you?' - and watches the way Jeongguk shakes his head. Hands too. Shrugs. Bloody git is giving it to you on the house. 

10,000 won ain't that much, but Yeonjun doesn't like losing. "Oi, Disco Ball. Get your friends"- he nods towards Hoseok and Danbi. -"We'll make you a round."

He ignores the way Jeongguk's eyes burn into him, knowing that his shit-eating grin is enough to wind Jeongguk up. They love each other really, but in a way you'd love a sibling. Fully capable of hating one another, too. 

You glance up to Jeongguk, almost as if you're asking his permission. You kind of are. You trust him. He's been kind. This other bartender? He's a bit louder. Far brasher. And he'd called you Disco Ball? The fuck?

Jeongguk nods. Doesn't want you to leave, but equally knows the only reason you're looking at him like that - eyes all wide and innocent - is 'cause you're drunk. Doubts it would be the same if you were sober. When he comes to think of it, he'd rather you were with your friends. Safer that way. "Hurry. Before we get really busy."

And so you scurry off, running on the balls of your feet to avoid awkward heel mishaps. There's something endearing about it and it's almost enough to distract him from Yeonjun's taunts. 

"If he doesn't take her home, I will."

"She's fucked," Jeongguk tells him, voice stern, eyes still on you. Fucking around with punters isn't against the rules, but taking advantage of drunk girls? Yeah, not on his watch. Doesn't matter who it is. He's seen enough creeps and enough girls in tears because of them to know when to step in. "You're going nowhere near her."

"I clock off in an hour," Yeonjun reminds him. Jeongguk the one who's closing the bar tonight. "Plenty of time to play catch up."

Yeonjun - brilliant, blue-haired, and with enough boyish charm to seduce almost anyone - isn't a creep. He looks up to Jeongguk. Respects him. Follows his lead. Would never take advantage of a punter. He just likes winding Jeongguk up a little too much. 

Jeongguk ignores him. Doesn't put it past him. While Yeonjun likes to think he has values, Jeongguk knows he's just as horny and desperate as the rest of the fuckers in the bar. 

That's not to say Jeongguk is discounting himself from the generalisation - he just actually does have morals. To some degree, at least.

You're on the dancefloor for no more than thirty seconds, dragging Hoseok and Danbi with you to the bar. They complain and moan - "but I love that song!" - though as soon as they're faced with a tray of shots, their moods shoot up. You go to pay Jeongguk, but he shakes his head.

"On the house."

"You're trying to get me drunk," you accuse with a knowing smile.

"You're already drunk," he smiles right back. It's not his goal. It's a fairly quiet night. If anything, this is entertainment. Not like there's much better for him to be doing. Not until his friends drop by later, at least. "I'm just a nice barman."

Part of you wants to protest. He's covered in tattoos - his hands, the ones peaking from his shirt at the wrist and the neck - and has more piercing in his ears than you do. There's a stud in his brow, and a ring on his lip. It's his eyes though, that you think scream danger the most. They're deep and they're dark, and you know better than to trust them.

And yet when he smiles like that, your tummy feels all fuzzy in the same way that your head does.

"Well thank you Mr Nice Barman," you nod and curtsey, because that somehow feels appropriate. 

"Jeongguk," he corrects, before knocking his head to the side and nodding towards the dancefloor. "Go enjoy your night, trouble."

Not too much, though, he thinks to himself, but watches as you bounce back to the dancefloor with your friends. 

The drinks were a small gesture, but one that he knows will have made a difference to their night. No skin off his back. He likes doing things like this. You're not the first, likely won't be the last - but he spends a lot longer than usual quietly observing you as you get on with your night. Doesn't notice the smile on his face.

Yeonjun does, though. Chooses not to say anything. Knows when to pick his battles.

Does warn him when he sees Jeongguk's friends bundle in through the door, though. "Watch out boss. Same as usual?"

Jeongguk nods, and Yeonjun sets about making a round of drinks for the usual suspects. Three malibu and cokes, one rum and lemonade and four purple starfuckers. Jeongguk'll make those. They're his signature. 

"Look what the cat dragged in," he grins towards his friends, all a little worse for wear. Bleary-eyed, they're smiling and joking, having come from dinner - which turned into drinks, and then more drinks and then - fuck it - clubs. Dionysus is always the final stop. They like the atmosphere; like the free drinks even more.

"You know us," Park Jimin grins at him in the sleazy way he so often does, which lets Jeongguk knows he's up to no good. "Where the pussy goes, we surely follow."

"Speak for yourself," Namjoon snorts beside him, a little more sober than the others. Taehyung and Yoongi are engaged in their own conversation - something about the Samsung Lions and baseball strategy that Jeongguk doesn't care much for. "Quiet night?"

"Fairly," Jeongguk nods - which can only mean one thing. Same thing it means every week. 

He'd always thought that by the time they hit their mid-twenties, they'd be over this lifestyle by now - but his friends like to make just as many bad decisions as he does.

"Round up boys," Jimin cheers, his voice booming above the bass of whatever noughties classic is on. "Purple Starkfucker time!"

Jeongguk laughs. Shakes his head, rolls his eyes. Unfolds his defensive arms. Glances up to the crowd - but you're lost to the night. Maybe not forever, but for now, at least. 

And so he just nods, and cheers along with them.

"Purple Starfucker time."

AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT

#by holly #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk #jungkook x reader #jeongguk fanfic #bangtan #jungkook fluff #bartender!jungkook #non idol au #bts fanfic #jeongguk fic #bad decisions #dappleddaisies

[amphitriteswife]

Do more of ror school au hcs please 🙏🏻 💓 💕 💗

📝✂️Ror/ Snv characters as Students📝✂️

Also am I spotting a fellow Alien stage fan??? @miserable-homo-momo

Hades:

☠️He’s a top student. On top of most of his classes, and he’s a senior.

☠️ Mostly hangs out with Qin or his brothers. He doesn’t necessarily have friends but a lot of ppl want to be tho, only he focuses on being a big brother.

☠️ Listens to a lot of music tastes. Like his play list is full of mood swings. It contains: Classic music, Pop Music, HipHop, Heavy metal ect. It kinda depends on what he feels tbh. A few of his faves would be: Tupac, Beyonce, Megan Thee Stallion, Cardi B and Mozart.

☠️Drives a nice car which made him very popular. He used it to take his brothers everywhere but he ended up sharing it between his brothers and bought a motorbike of his own🤭

☠️ He had a lot of piercings: Ears, lip, Eyebrow…nipple…But he looks good and knows how to pull it off. Like just Imagine it. Gah dayum

☠️ He actually skipped class?? You wouldn’t expect it from him but he did skip class. It’s not often but once in a blue moon. Most of the times it’s cause he wants to hang out with his brothers.

☠️ goes to all the house parties. As good of a student he is, he also likes going out. So most of the time he gets invited to parties or hang outs.

☠️ most ppl thought he was a player but ended up being one of the ppl that married their high school sweetheart. He might have dated some ppl but they weren’t flings but actually legit relationships

☠️ probably the one person that brings snacks or drinks for the class if they have a field trip or just a hot school day y’know. Like just imagine it being a hot sunny day and you still have a lot of lessons to follow and boom, hades brings ice cream for the class?? Life safer fr🙏

☠️ He probably likes History, astronomy and psychology. He kind of has random subject but he just chose what he deems as interesting. He only likes the 🪐⭐️🌠🌌 and not the math in astronomy.

☠️ He cooks on field trips that last more days. Only if its’s necessary tho. Mainly because he’s rich enough to afford going to restaurants or the school handles it.

☠️ he’s the therapist friend fr. Genuinely knows when there’s something wrong and asks, not in public tho. He doesn’t judge but actually listens to you. He also offers comfort if you need it. What a goat

☠️ class president. Even though he didn’t want to be. Most ppl voted for him for the above stated reasons. And because he’s kind of a big brother type.

☠️ man could do anything and he wouldn’t get into trouble. Mostly because all the teachers love him as a student so shawty has a good reputation.

☠️ He’s bad at art yet has very nice cursive handwriting. Probably because he takes extra poetry lessons. Or he practiced it till he was satisfied.

☠️ Is in the chess club with Beelzebub and the birb. They often play and even have participate in Tournaments.

☠️ He’s the type that also chose languages as subjects, so like German, French, Italian, Chinese, Latin and ofc Greek. Probably because his ass has a photographic memory

☠️ doesn’t eat cafeteria food and actually goed off campus to buy food. If some of his lessons are canceled he just goes to restaurants or shopping streets to kill time

☠️ Actually doesn’t rly do his homework. He only does it in classes that check homework or give bonuses for it, otherwise he usually doesn’t do it. Besides he only studies like 2 weeks before the week where all the tests are. Unless he knows he needs more time for a certain subject. Then he catches up

☠️ Went to Spain, Germany and France because he choose those subjects and teased his younger brothers for it. He did buy them a requested item for each of em. Not Zeus cause he requested a Latina babe.

☠️ He has a place in school where he always sits when he aint off campus. So if ya eveer try to find him he’s probably there.

☠️ graduated w honors fr. Mosy of the teacher wrote nice things about them and held wonderful speeches for him since he was a good student. His quote in the year book was sum like ‘👍’.

☠️ He probably went on luxurious vacations and posted the pictures on his insta. He dont do snap or any other form of social media.

Buddha

🪷 the student that doesn’t really care about grades but does get good ones.

🪷 He’s usually eats in class. But for some reason the teachers allow it cause he ain’t causing a mess. Or because he’s actually a prince and could buy the school in a second.

🪷 Definitely choose a language as a subject and geography cause man knows a lot about different cultures. My goat

🪷 Definitely a music lover. You can always catch him with one AirPod in his ear. Probably has the latest phone too cause he richy rich.

🪷 Goes to on lot of vacations. Like every break he’s somewhere. Japan, Greece, Italy, Singapore, Canada, Brazil, he goes to many places. Brodie might start doing them travel vlogs atp

🪷 He has lots of Social Media’s. Tiktok, Tenten, insta, snap, Discord??🤨 , Be real ect. His tiktok is just goofy ahh videos while his insta is usually pics of his vacations. Like you know them influencers who have them nice ahh pics? He has that, but he just aint a influencer

🪷 Never takes notes in class. So you might wanne share em w him if you have em. In return he’ll let you munch on his snacks.

🪷 BIG supporter of Cultural day. Like he already sighed a petition and complained that every school should have one. He even offered to host them and buy stuff for it.

🪷 biggest class skipper together with Qin. He’s either off campus buying stuff, at home cause brodie didn’t wanne come or he just bailed mid way with the ‘can i use the restroom?’ Tactic. His ass almost got into trouble w the school cause of the many times he was absent.

🪷 If you have a presentation with him. Yall will score perfectly. Especially if it’s a subject he knows a lot about, brodie will carry you like how Eren carried that stone in Shiganshina (aot reference 🤨)

🪷 Deals candy in school. Like you know how some schools have the policy that their cafeteria doesn’t sell unhealthy stuff? And the stuff is overpriced asf. Yeah he broke that by buying a lot of different candies and letting ppl buy em for €1 no matter what the OG price was. He may or may not have gotten into trouble but man did not care

🪷 LOVESS LOVES LOVES school trips. He always buys snacks for em. He usually researches the place where yall is going so that he can divide the time and go see the whole place instead of just only doing the assignment.

🪷 He is friends w actually almost everyone. Almost. Except Loki. But it’s difficult. Loki HATES him. While Buddha is kinda like 😒. It got so bad that Loki had to switch classes fr. Now one may ask why? Buddha worked together Sigyn that’s why

🪷 house parties, pool parties, after school parties, just any party tbh. If he catches one he is going. And Believe me it makes it so much better. He has the music, the vibe, the photo’s everything. Man is so chill fr

🪷 lowkey good friends w Hades. Mainly because they both chose languages. They usually practice together if they have like a verbal test. They got each other’s back. And yeah Buddha’s a senior cause he skipped some grades

🪷 Ppl expected him to actually be single cause of how care free he is but they were wrong cause man was SMITTEN by Yasodharā. They were literally THE couple.

🪷 Got into a class fight with Loki. Imma leave room for yall to think how that went. Man CLEARED him. But he didn’t hit tho. He didn’t square up. He just dodged and threw chips in his face.

🪷 watched anime, reads manhwa and hd merch. But he the cool ones that keep it lowkey and dont rly act upon it

🪷 Man saved the ppl who graduated w him. He arranged that the ppl in the last year could have a week long vacation to Italy. Mainly to see art or just enjoy being free from school.

🪷 As much as he hated school. He’s the type that goes for a good time. He likes being w his friends or his glorious gf Yasodharā.

Shiva:

🧿 Laid back student that barely passes but doesn’t really mind.

🧿 member of the party club! He hosts all the dances, plays, school events, parties, gala’s. Anything to do with the sort!

🧿 Also a big fan of house parties. Good music, good vibe, lots of ppl, drinks n a good home? He’s all in.

🧿 He 100% had music, art and religion as a subject. Dancing is included with art and he gives extra lessons to the youngsters. He might even have his own dance club on campus.

🧿 He’s also a fan of p.e. He 100% has a one sided rivalry with Hercules and Ares. But if it’s Ares and Hercules against each other he’s on Hercules’ side.

🧿 He hosted a Gala for the seniors and it was so goated, he even had a department for ppl who didn’t want to dance and put on game consoles on the big ahh boards.

🧿 He and Poseidon were playing Mario Kart and SSBU against each other. Half of the ppl there spectated on how the two were so focused and at each other’s throat. But after that Shiva went back to dancing.

🧿 A lot of ppl think that he’s poly but he’d monogamous and has a girlfriend. Aka Parvati. Who was his partner to homecoming. Which he hosted ofcourse.

🧿 Skips school so much that he once had to have a conversation with the school therapist to make sure there was nothing going on at home. (There isn’t) but he played it off cause he a smooth talker and got away with it.

🧿 He’s besties w Rudra. They’re the duo that everyone knows cause they’ve been going to the same school and usually have most classes together. Even if they don’t like the subject. Like you can see Shiva in some classes they don’t have together cause he just asks the teacher it its cool and most of the time it’s cool. Most.

🧿 They the duo that they meet each other in the halls cause they both got sent out of the classroom. Or they both have detention and never do any work in it there.

🧿 you can usually spot them outside going for a run or at the gym. They also share a playlist for of they go to the gym and its very intense. Or they’re goofing around and end up doing something else.

🧿 He’s also in Hades class as a senior but they aint rly close, no bad blood but they just have their own friends. Though If they were to be paired up they’d make a very good duo.

🧿 Also a big fan of Culture day. But the best part is that Parvati is in a beautiful sari, her make up done, mehendi on her hands and feet, churias on her arms, a veil on her head. Hmm perfect.

🧿 He lowkey beefs with Loki but does it in a goofy way y’know. Like he seems very intimidating cause of his physique and height but he’s lowkey chill and doesn’t bother ppl.

🧿 is lowkey a model together with Poseidon. He posts a lot of pictures on his insta, Indian weddings (they’re the best) pics of himself or if he went somewhere. Some of them are lowkey so aestheticly pleasing.

Yuh that’s it. Might make a part 3 tho

Tagging: @mizz-sea-nymph @vilereign @tinyy-tea-cup @das-jaim3 @monstertreden @rukia-writes @snowmantita @brokensenseofhumor @itz-hel @nicasdreamer @imperfectbloodmoon @swallowtail-lotus @m3l-moony @riseofamoonycake @bumblebees-knees-threes @praisethesuuun @telvess @salmonpoki @aresarmyblog

#ror/snv characters as students #buddha snv #snv #ror #shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnarok #snv hades #ror hades #snv buddha #ror buddha #snv shiva #ror shiva #ror parvati #snv parvati #ror headcanons #snv headcanons

[flwrshee]

✉️ TUTOR

duo ﹒ heeseung x fmr genre fluff and slightly suggestive wc 1,4k warnings nicknames , kissing , cursing ( tune in while reading )

clicking your pen, you stare at heeseung’s hands gripping on the pencil as he writes down the answer to a hard equation.

if you had told yourself that you would be helping the lee heeseung with his chemistry and maths homework every wednesday you would have laughed at yourself.

tutoring wasn’t something on your list, ever. even though you considered yourself smart compared to your class, tutoring people didn’t suit you. dealing with people who weren’t up to your level disgusted you.

it happened when your teacher suggested you to heeseung because his grades were not very great. he was the epitome of a classic, cliche frat boy. he always skipped lessons and you often spotted him with bruises or in the middle of hallway fights.

at first you didn’t wanted to accept the offer and thought of multiple ways to kindly decline the offer but seeing your teacher recommended you over and over again to him made you feel bad. the only reason you chose to tutor him was because your teacher would love you more than she hated you. you were such a try hard despite yourself knowing that already.

“you want to be with heeseung so bad.” yunjin says while teasing you for the nth time today, you were sick of it.

“i already told you, i do not like him.” you emphasise the last five words as you turn around ignoring her teasing face.

“who don’t you like park yn?” a voice whispers in your ear.

fuck. lee heeseung.

“none of your business lee, go back to your table” you shoo him away with your hands. “yes miss yn, see you after school!” he says in a high voice while waving his hands and giving you a stupid wink.

a stupid wink. you hated it.

it was right that you accepted your teacher’s offer to work with him, only for your benefit but as time flew by heeseung started becoming close to you. your small smiles and hand waves became long conversations about things that weren’t about the topic you taught him. he slowly started seeping in your life and you didn’t even realise.

“see it’s that simple!” you say to heeseung while finish explaining the question. the maths problem he had found confusing was a piece of cake for you. “ugh why do you find everything easy?” he mumbles under his breath just enough so you can hear the irritated tone in his voice.

“lee, just accept the fact that i'm better than you in every way possible” you tell him with implied arrogance to piss him off even more. "i kind of forgot that your a miss know-it-all thats ready to do anything to make me mad." he utters leaning closely to your face just so you could feel his hot breath surrounding your face.

"what the hell lee, get out of my face." you say while turning around hiding the pink tint entering your cheeks, why does he make you feel this way? your phone beeps making you get of your thoughts, realising that your tutor session with him had ended. finally, you think. no more covering your face from him until another 24 hours.

"class finished! you can now leave my room lee." you tell him while signalling at the entrance of your doorway. "yn," he speaks while making an abrupt pause, "see you soon." while waving his hands and giving you a smug smile. what was he up to now?

to be honest, you couldn’t sleep, no matter how hard you tried. all your attempts from sleeping with a eye mask to listening to music, failed. looking at your bright screen, you read the numbers 1:03. it was one in the morning and your eyes were still as wide as a bat’s.

just as you were about to turn around and try a different technique to make yourself sleep, you hear the rattling sound of your window opening, with a gust of cold wind entering your room. looking at the silhouette trying to get into your room, your defensive mind grabs the lamp by your table as you jump over your bed and hit the person’s head.

ouch.

when they turn around, you see them holding a hand to their head while the other one gives you the middle finger. must have hurt them bad. you can’t see them very clearly, however you can define the neat jawline, unkept hair and distinct fashion tense. why were they in your room? not a kidnapper right?

“look first and then react, park yn” a low voice says as the light in your room switches on as you can see the person in front of you. lee heeseung. “what are you doing h-” before you could finish your sentence his large hand covers your mouth as the other one grabs your waist. he places his hand on his lips while making a shh sound.

“can you not be quiet for a second?” while rolling his eyes, “how can i not when you trespassed into my room lee, i can report you for thi-” he interrupts you again “don’t you understand the meaning of quiet?” while leaving barely any space between your faces. “for gods sake lee, why are you here ?!” you utter with irritation laced in your voice, wanting answers, not him stalling your time.

“well…” he says while looking at you, “i need help with one of my math’s questions, i have a test tomorrow.” his hands still on your waist.

“so your telling me, you came all the way from your house, climbed up to my window, broke into my room just for a maths question?” tilting your head to the side, you ask him not very impressed.

“yes, i did all of that just for a maths question” he shamelessly replies while maintaining the eye contact between the two of you. you didn’t believe him one bit.

“i don’t believe you lee”

“then don’t”

“your not going to convince me?”

“have you always been this stupid?”

goddamn it. this man was getting on your nerves, your ego was getting crushed from each word he spat of his mouth. or were you really that slow? does lee heeseung make everyone feel this way?

“what if i said yes, just fucking tell me” you whisper-scream not wanting to wake up anyone in your house. “she’s so oblivious” a mutter rolls of his tongue just loud enough for him to hear himself.

“did you really think i came all the way for a maths question? you tell me miss-know-it-all.”

“i don’t have an answer”

“fuck it”

all that happened next was a blur to you. your lips and his lips were together, moulded perfectly like they were made for each other. both his hands were on your waist while your hands went automatically to his neck.

heeseung kissed you like it was the end of the world, kissing you so you would remember this for a lifetime. you couldn’t admit to yourself that you genuinely enjoyed it.

breaking it, you catch your breath while staring at his plump lips. “is this was what you wanted to tell me heeseung?”embarrassed to even look and talk to his pretty face.

“heeseung? thats new”

you lightly hit his chest and held you face with your two hands. he takes them away and cups your cheeks with his hands and gently kisses your forehead.

“you finally got it.” while bopping his nose with yours, “after you made out with me, yes i did heeseung”

“you know what, you should call me heeseung often,” he tells you while slightly stroking your hair looking at brown strands glow under the dim light, “ok, hee”

“hee?” he says flustered, the tables had turned, “hee suits you better.” you say while giving him his signature smug smile, now it was his time to be shy.

“so hee, what are we now?”

“do i need to kiss you again to remind you?”

“maybe?”

the kiss was a short as a peck — sadly, but you could hear footsteps approaching you room and a voice calling your name. it was your mum, “yn, are you asleep?”

“yes mum im fine” you hurriedly say while pushing heeseung towards the window indicating him to get out. before leaving your room, he sends you a flying kiss and a cheesy wink.

rushing to your window, you spot him at the bottom while waving his hands for you to see him, “see you tomorrow girlfriend!” you signal him to be quiet while whispering, “me too boyfriend.”

as you watch him leave, you sink into the warm sheets of your bed wondering what happened in the last hour. everything felt too unreal to be true, but it was, and you were glad it was.

it was a dream that came to life.

© flwrshee

note 💬 thank you my love @yeokii for proofreading this, this has been in my drafts for way too long and sorry @seongclb for making you wait so long. hoping it turned out well 😁

#⠀⠀ ౨ৎ flwrshee works⠀⠀ #enhypen #enhypen heeseung #enhypen lee heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen drabbles #enhypen oneshots #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen ff #heeseung imagines #heeseung scenarios #heeseung oneshots #heeseung fluff #heeseung fanfic #heeseung ff #heeseung drabbles #enhypen x reader #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x yn #heeseung x reader #heeseung x female reader #heeseung x yn

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

I'm taking a Classics course this year and it's extremely funny to me that, while some versions do make Kronos into Greek-Satan, in most versions Zeus eventually just... like... releases Kronos after a few centuries.

It's like "Hey dad, yeah, you and the other Titans can come out now. I think ya'll've learned your lesson, just no more eating your kids, K?" And Kronos just... accepts his son's rule. It's honestly hilarious.

From a historical perspective it's meant to be reflective of the Athenian banishment system where you got to return after ten years or so, but it's also endlessly funny to me. Zeus just has his ex-con cannibal father puttering around occasionally offering advice and its usually terrible.

It's even funnier in Roman mythology because in that series of events Saturn (Roman Kronos) and the Titans go to Italy and rule over a Golden Age while making ready for Jupiter and the other Gods to come over with Aneas once the Trojan War is over.

So, I'm proposing an alternative version of Percy Jackson. While the Greeks were fighting the secondd Titan War, the Romans just have to like, settle a dispute between Jupiter and his geriatric father over some bullshit. It's be hilarious.

#incorrect super smash bros #mythology #roman mythology #greek mythology #greek #roman #Rome #History #ancient history #Zeus #Kronos #Chronus #Saturn #Jupiter #Jove #Aneas

[fayes-fics]

Lessons Applied

Lessons Series Masterpost PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader, Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader (threesome)

Summary: it’s time the Viscount learned a lesson…

Warnings: 18+smut, minors DNI, threesome, d/s relationships - sub!Anthony dom!Benedict switch!reader, dirty talk, light bondage, pussy spanking, hair pulling, handjobs, edging, nipple clamps, fingering. cockwarming, anal sex, vaginal sex, double penetration. Watch out, there are also some emotions in this one.

Word count: 10.0k (I'm so sorry...)

Author's Note: Please read the warnings, and if you are looking for something romantic and vanilla, please look elsewhere. If you don’t mind DP filth, step up. Thank you to @colettebronte for her invaluable advice when knocking this into shape. I'm still not sure I like this, but I can't mess with it forever. So my apologies go to @iboopedyournose, who gave me a brief for this installment where Anthony has the tables turned on him and is submissive. Enjoy <3

You are on the balcony observing Anthony Bridgerton as he effortlessly makes his social rounds at the latest soirée. Your bottom is still smarting a little from the riding crop he used on you last night.

There is movement behind you, and you know who it is by cologne alone. You can’t school the smile tugging at your lips.

“Can’t sit down yet?” 

“Not comfortably. He was particularly harsh,” you reply dryly.

“Mmm, yes, I thought it a little excessive,” Benedict opines softly, drawing up next to you. “You should turn the tables; give him a taste of his own medicine,” he chuckles.

“Hah!” you laugh, glancing sideways to catch his handsome profile as he scans the crowd. “You are very droll.”

“I mean it. For the right person, he would be willing to cede control,” Benedict says quietly, not wanting your inappropriately intimate conversation to be heard by others milling in the vicinity.

“Really?” you feel sceptical about it. In all of your time with Anthony, he has been a classic dominant even before Benedict became part of your dynamic. But Benedict knows his brother much better than you.

Below, the master of ceremonies announces for everyone to gather in the gardens, and the balcony starts to thin out as people move towards the staircases. 

“He’d only do it for someone he truly trusts. And I think that might be you,” Benedict’s tone is affectionate as you both track Anthony’s movements out of sight.

“Hmm, I’ll try it, on one condition,” your mouth ticks into an amused pout as you twist to face him.

He turns to face you as well, smirking in a bemused fashion. “Name it.”

“You help me,” you cross your arms and raise an eyebrow in challenge.

It is just the two of you left now on the balcony as the crowd files out of the French doors beneath.

He chuckles and then leans close, his lips near your cheekbone, and his hands settle on your waist. “Do I have to submit to you too?” His voice is a teasing murmur.

“Do you want to?” you whisper back, touching his forearms.

“Hmm, maybe someday,” he offers thoughtfully, his fingers squeezing you gently. “But I think I’d prefer the privilege he had that first time we met. He got to do whatever he wanted to you, but I had rules. I want him to be the one under rules, and I get to do whatever I want.” He runs a thumb slowly down the front of your dress. “And I want him to watch as I destroy you, darling girl.”

You are panting at the thought of Anthony under your control as Benedict unleashes his full potential.

“God, yes,” you breathe, swaying close to his face, hungry to kiss him.

“Mmmm, not here, not now,” he intuits your desire, his breath hot on your face. “Save it for our session. Anticipation makes it so much sweeter, I find,” his voice almost an octave lower, his hand hovering over the junction of your thighs through your dress. “But if you need a little something to tide you over…” he adds, eyes glittering with menace. 

You nod enthusiastically.

Double-checking that the entire room is empty now, he yanks your dress up and sneaks a hand under the hem. Somehow he expertly locates your clit and pinches it between his thumb and pointer finger. Hard. Almost painfully. You gasp and stutter.

“This is mine, do you hear me?” his tone utterly authoritative.

“Yes, sir,” you quiver.

“You do not have permission to touch it until our next session, understood?” he intones.

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good girl,” he rumbles, and the fingers are gone before you can even register your thoughts.

He sucks them into his mouth, staring you down, watching your pupils dilate and your mouth open a fraction—he loves to tease you.

“I will know,” he warns, “just one look at you, and I will know if you disobeyed me.”

“What will you do if I disobey?” you whisper fervently.

“I would probably tie you down, worse than you will to Anthony, tease you until you screamed the damn walls down. Just keep taking you so close to the edge of bliss but not letting you over,” his deep voice a warning bell to behave.

“And If I’m a good, obedient girl?” you query, already breathless.

“I will make you come so many times you pass out,” his devastating crooked grin in full effect.

“Sir, you are dangerous,” you smile in response.

“Says the woman willing to punish my brother,” he lobbies back playfully.

“Only if you help me,” you remind.

“Nothing will give me greater pleasure, my girl,” he assures lightheartedly, offering his arm to walk you outside to the festivities.

—

“My lord,” you bow and signal Anthony to sit in the wingback chair in Benedict’s bachelor lodgings. 

At the end of the soirée, Benedict had suggested you all go back to his for a nightcap; as he did so, he had sent you a conspiratorial wink.

Anthony frowns, bemused by your theatrics, but takes the proffered seat.

“How is your bottom, darling girl?” he smirks, pulling you down to straddle his lap, pushing your dress above your knees so you can do so.

“Not great,” you pout, placing your hands on his shoulders as he huffs a laugh.

“Then do not be such a naughty one,” he replies, hands running heavily over your body. 

“Well, that is just the thing. I do not think I was that naughty,” you counter, heart fluttering a little as you unbutton Anthony’s waistcoat; Benedict moves to stand behind the chair, catching your eye with a quick smile.

“Is that so?” Anthony's smirk grows bigger, his eyes sparkling, loving when you are a little mischievous and wilful with him.

“No, in fact,” you roughly tug the waistcoat down his arms so they are trapped in place, “I do not think you were fair at all,” your voice lively but with a hard edge. 

“Does my girl have a problem with her lord?” his ask laced with intrigue, chasing your lips with his own.

“Maybe your girl wants her lord to behave himself for once,” you whisper as seductively as you can, teasing with your lips but never letting him meet them.

“Oh, does she?” his tone is low and mirth-filled. “What does she want him to do, hmm? Submit to her will?” He doesn’t seem to be objecting; in fact, he seems rather engaged with the tease of it all.

“Yes,” you say boldly, holding his arms firmly trapped, finally allowing his lips to land on yours. You kiss him deeply, setting the rhythm, and a thrill runs through you when he lets you, your lips and tongue chasing him for a change.

“Maybe he just might,” is his quiet whisper, and the euphoric buzz in your veins is electric. 

Benedict was right. You don’t look at him, but you allow one hand to slide out of Anthony’s hair and reach for him over the back of the chair as you move to kiss Anthony deeply again. Instead of just perhaps holding it as you might expect, Benedict takes your hand up to his mouth and sucks your fingers obscenely, lathing his warm tongue over and between them. It makes you push deeper into Anthony’s lap as you kiss, plundering his mouth and rocking your core over his growing bulge, loving the power you have over him pinned under you.

“Oh darling girl,” Anthony sighs, sounding under a spell as you release his lips, and Benedict lets go of your hand, “you are doing so very well at this,” he flatters. “What are you planning to do?”

“Well, my lord,” you manoeuvre him out of the waistcoat, toss it aside, then grab his braces and twine them around your fingers. “Maybe I tie you down a little? Maybe I punish you just a little.” As you whisper, you watch his pupils rapidly dilate and feel his breath go ragged, his chest heaving slightly under you.

“My wonderful filthy girl,” he pants, “I have taught you so well.”

“Mmmm, I am a keen observer, and tonight you do not call me girl,” you trace a thumb over his lips, “you call me lady.”

“Yes, certainly, my lady,” he answers with a smile.

“Oh yes, that’s it,” you gasp and delve in for another bruising kiss, pushing down his braces around his hips, basking in how compliant he has become under your touch. You grasp his hair near the scalp, and he hisses onto your lips. “Now I have rules for you tonight, my handsome boy.”

His eyes flash at the new title you have bestowed on him. “I’m all ears, my lady,” Anthony says sotto voce, complying as you pull up and remove his shirt.

“You don’t get to touch me unless I say you can. You don’t get to touch yourself unless I say you can. But I can touch you whenever and wherever I want. Understood?” you bark as your eyes roam his toned torso.

“Understood, my lady,” he confirms with an almost blissful smile. “What about my brother? Is he to submit to you too?” 

Benedict rounds the chair swiftly and grabs your hair, pulling your head backwards, so you look up at the sharp underside of his jawline.

“Oh no, brother,” Benedict responds with a bemused lilt, “she’s mine. You get to watch.”

Anthony groans, “I love watching you be fucked hard, my gi… my lady,” he amends quickly. 

You smile at his correction and recall how Anthony’s eyes had burned into you, stroking his cock fervently as his brother fucked you for the first time a few weeks ago at Aubrey Hall. 

Benedict releases his grip as you stand up from Anthony’s lap and place your left foot lightly on his knee. 

“Remove my shoe,” you order softly. 

He smiles at you and delicately grabs your ankle. His hand is warm through your stocking as he pulls the shoe off your heel, then slides it off your toes, placing it gently on the floor. 

“Well done, my darling boy,” you smirk and watch him take a hitching breath as you push your dress up slightly and grab the ribbon holding your stocking above your knee, unfurling it slowly. 

You know from where he sits that he can see up your chemise to your bare cunt. You watch his eyes track up your inner thigh. 

“Do you like what you see?” you tease lightly as the ribbon falls away, and you push the stocking slowly down your leg until it pools on his thigh. 

“Yes, my lady,” he answers keenly, licking his lip.

You see a wash of disappointment on his face as you lower your leg, but it’s only temporary, as you kneel and wind your stocking around his wrist and the arm of the chair—tying it in a neat bow after a few loops. The look on his face is now priceless, and Benedict chuckles from where he is leaning a few feet away. 

You put your right leg up on Anthony’s other knee expectantly, and he knows instantly to remove the shoe, which proves a little trickier now one-handed. As it clatters to the floor from his hand, you inhale sharply as Benedict suddenly crowds into your back as you undo the ribbon on your stocking.

“Did you touch yourself since I warned you not to, my girl?” his tone sinful, a large hand wrapped loosely around your throat, his lips trace the shell of your ear, and you freeze your motions. 

This is all for show. Benedict only warned you three hours ago; you’ve had no time alone since then to touch yourself, and he knows it. You push your body into his solid frame, clit throbbing as you feel his rigid cock slide across your tailbone.

“No, I promise, sir, I’ve been good,” you murmur.

His free hand tugs at your dress, pulling your hem all the way up around your hips, so your lack of underwear is apparent. Anthony is already breathing unsteadily; his trousers painfully tented. The hand at your throat releases and smears down your breastbone, the fingers spidering inside your dress and pinching your nipple, Benedict’s teeth grazing the cord of your neck.

“Undo my ribbon,” you call to Anthony, and his free hand shoots forward to unfurl the ribbon on your thigh.

Anthony’s fingers trace seductively down your leg, taking your stocking with him as Benedict teases your breast, flexing his fingers expertly, making you squirm into him. You know he is enjoying the liberty to play with your body as his brother watches on, powerless to participate.

“I love how you writhe when I squeeze your nipples,” Benedict drawls right in your ear, “I could do this for hours, just tease you, but I suppose I should let you tie him down properly,” withdrawing his hand from inside your neckline and giving you an insouciant bite on the neck. 

You bend over provocatively, pushing your bottom right into Benedict’s crotch as you take the other stocking from Anthony and secure his right hand onto the chair. He is now tied down at your mercy, and the sight causes a hot wave of want to gallop through your chest. He could fight out of the stockings easily, it's a symbolic hold as much as anything, but he doesn't. He sits there docile, looking up at you through heavy lashes and a soft pout, cock straining against his trousers, the chest hair across his pectoral muscles rising and falling with his rapid breaths. You want to climb on and ride him so hard he cries your name.

“Kiss me right now, my lovely boy,” you command.

He smiles so happily and leans forward joyfully, meeting your lips again as Benedict surges his cock onto your bottom and maps your body with his hands. He starts to pluck open the buttons at your shoulder blades, each relenting with a small rock into Anthony's kiss. His hands round your shoulders, roughly tug your dress, and chemise down together, sliding until they hit the floor. You are naked now except for your stays, which feel too hot and tight over your breasts as you inhale deep at the sensation of Anthony's tongue and Benedict's greedy hands.

“Darling girl, you still have marks,” Benedict says quietly, his touch a gentle glide over the globes of your bottom.

Anthony breaks the kiss, his face contrite. “I am so sorry, my lady,” he whispers, ashamed.

“It is all right, my boy,” you assure, running your knuckles along his jawline. “But you will learn not to be so harsh again.” Your tone takes on an undercurrent of steely determination that makes his face morph into one of both admiration and trepidation.

“As much as I wish to spank this beautiful bottom, I think it needs a little longer to recover,” Benedict sighs and leans down to kiss your back, making your breath catch with the tender action. That he can make you feel so cared for causes a slight bloom in your chest, which feels too dangerously close to devotion. All you want is for the sentimental ache to be replaced with an erotic zing, a thrill of some kind that feels less emotionally vulnerable. You twist to look at him over your shoulder challengingly.

“Then fuck me right now instead,” you goad, knowing that being wilful with him always brings out his need to dominate.

He snarls and pulls you upright, backwards a few steps from Anthony, then spins you around, trapping you with his body, a hand snaking between your legs.

“I will,” his voice dripping with menace, a finger teasing your clit. The power dynamics at play are so beguiling as you switch between the domination of Anthony and submission to Benedict. You want to shock them both. Say or do something that makes them both crazed, feral—poking the proverbial bears under your thrall.

“Call me something derogatory,” you plead, almost ashamed of your request. 

Benedict’s middle finger presses higher, pushing your clit against your public bone. You inhale sharply, and when he doesn’t move, you hold his gaze and slowly rock on his finger, loving the sensation of your clit being so trapped. 

“You wanton little whore,” he growls.

That word on his sinful tongue causes a shiver down your spine and makes you flood over his hand.

“Only for you, sir,” you whisper back, sliding back and forth a little more, so you rub yourself from his fingertip to the base where his finger meets his hand, undulating your hips. “And for him,” you add, looking over your shoulder at Anthony, who is watching you with hooded eyes, longing to palm his obvious erection. The fact that he is so turned on watching you makes you moan, and your cunt clenches around nothing.

“I felt that,” Benedict purrs, surging his cock forcibly into your hip, moving his fingers back and sliding two easily along your slit. “Only we can touch you here,” he warns, and you are staring into his hazy blue eyes as two fingers suddenly spank your folds, making you squeal in surprise.

He spins you around to face Anthony, and you see his almost crazed wild look just as Benedict’s fingers spank you again. This is practically theatrical; he is putting on a show, aroused by the power dynamics and finally having free reign over you. Anthony’s gaze is licentious at the apex of your thighs. He watches you honeying over his brother’s questing hand as you gasp loudly, another spank there, wrapping both of your hands around Benedict's forearm. 

“Please, sir,” you appeal for clemency.

“Don’t pretend you aren’t loving this,” he blazes, “you are drenching my hand.”  

The sound of the wetness pooling there seems to echo around the room as he slides his fingers through your folds, teasing your clit with each pass. Anthony's responding moan is savage, gaze locked on you as you writhe hard. Benedict's eyes cut over to his brother.

“Isn’t she just beautiful like this, brother?” he taunts, “You should feel this; it’s exquisite.” Suddenly his hand is gone from between your legs, and he is sucking the fingers into his mouth with an appreciative noise. “And the taste is so delicious,” he adds.

Benedict’s large hand lands on your shoulder, and you feel the dampness of your arousal paint your skin as he presses down there until you kneel, still facing away from him. His other hand slides into your hair and pulls roughly. 

“You always look so fucking good on your knees,” Benedict's voice is gravelly. “I have half a mind to use your mouth right now. Doesn't she look amazing, brother?”

“You are a goddess, my lady,” Anthony asserts, eyes glittering as his hands flex in their bindings, almost as if they want to dive forward and drag you to him.

“And don't you forget it,” you murmur, even as Benedict pulls your hair as if you were his puppet, forcing you to look up and back at him.

“Tease him, my girl,” Benedict recommends as he gazes down at you imperiously, “do what he made you do to me in my library.” The memories come flooding back—Anthony ordering you to fondle Benedict's cock repeatedly but never allowing him to release until he came down your throat, shaking with need. “You remember, don't you?” Benedict continues, “make him desperate and writhing, feeling the exquisite pain of being so close to ecstasy but denied it. Over and over again, until it bleeds into something so heady, your whole body wants to burst.” 

The words fall out of him from experience, This feels like payback, and you look up to see the disquiet in Anthony's eyes—the karmic moment of realising that harsh lessons have a way of coming back to haunt one. And you want to do it. Edge Anthony until he is craving and needy, a panting wanton mess just for you. You remember the teeming desperation of Benedict’s kiss as you denied him over and over as Anthony ordered you to keep going. This will be the exact reverse.

Benedict releases your hair, and you fall forward onto your hands. Your gaze holds Anthony’s as you slowly place one hand before the other, prowling cat-like over the hard polished wood floors towards him. You watch his whole frame move with each inhale and exhale, like the act of breathing is laborious but also somehow pleasurable. You run your hands over his legs, loving the feel of his muscles tensing as he squirms, tied down in the chair.

“Hello, my pretty boy,” you tease with a smirk, “do you know what I'm going to do?”

“Yes,“ his whisper is ardent, and you can't help but hold his fiery gaze, surging up to capture his lips in a searing kiss.

“Please, my lady,” he pleads as your hand falls to his crotch, the heat seeping through the material as his cock strains against it. 

He makes a noise that is all animal as you squeeze him and start to pull open the buttons at his hip roughly. As you suspected, he's not wearing underwear, and his familiar cock springs out, already leaking so very eagerly. You take him in hand, and he growls. The chair squeaks under his thrust into your loose grip.

“Nuh uh uh,” you tut, the pointer fingernail of your other hand catching deliciously on his pursed lip. “You sit still like a good boy, and maybe I’ll take you in my mouth too.”

“Please…” his broken groan is lewd; you can see him fighting every cell in his body to stay still for you.

You begin a languid rhythm with your fist, and he closes his eyes, bites his lip and whimpers just a touch. His cock is so red and leaking so profusely that you genuinely wonder how long he will last. With your other hand, you tug his trousers further, and he pushes up his hips to allow you to slide them under his bum, and you have to temporarily release his cock to pull them down his legs and off. Now he is fully naked and looks glorious. He whines loudly as you re-grasp his shaft and start to pump again. 

“You look so stunning naked, my darling boy,” you murmur, your other hand swirling a pattern in the hair on his chest, and his whole being seems to swell with pride.

“Thank you, my lady,” he responds humbly, and something about him being so meek makes you want him so much you just want to fuck him right now, ride him regardless of the consequences.

You keep hold of his cock and push up to kneeling. Anthony senses you want to talk to him and moves forward in the chair as much as possible while tied down.

“I want to ride you right now,” you whisper hotly but so quiet; it’s just for his ears.

The hitch in his breath is like poetry. “I want that more than air, my lady,” his voice a broken breeze over your face.

“I’ve never seen your cock so red and wanting; it looks delicious, my wonderful boy,” you flatter.

“Please, please take me into your beautiful mouth,” he is wrecked. So desperate for you; you can feel it in your bones. His body is calling to you, his lips pleading. 

“Remove your hand,” the commanding voice from a few paces away interrupts your thoughts, and you obey without question, so conditioned to be the perfect submissive yourself. Anthony whines loudly at the loss of contact. “Sit back on your haunches and stop whispering to him,” Benedict orders, and you can hear the jealousy woven into words. He doesn't like that you are sharing an emotional moment with Anthony, and it makes you want to laugh at the irony—that is precisely what you shared with him when he was in Anthony’s shoes. He probably doesn't even see his own hypocrisy and certainly wouldn't appreciate you pointing it out. 

Benedict moves behind you, long fingers plucking at the strings of your stays, loosening the criss-cross laces holding your last piece of clothing. It's somehow fitting that you and Anthony are both going to be naked before Benedict has so much as removed a stitch of clothing save his jacket. And again, a mirror image of that moment in Benedict's library, just next door, all those weeks ago, when you and he were naked as Anthony barely removed a stitch to fuck you. Suddenly you realise why he wanted to return here tonight, to redress the balance in the same building. 

“You may touch him again,” Benedict chimes and instantly, your hand is back on Anthony, who whimpers with relief, leaking over your knuckle, his wrists flexing under their bindings.

Once again, you feel the weight of Anthony’s stare, and your eyes cut away from his cock to meet his—a ring of burnt umber iris around his dilated pupils. He seems to be silently begging you to let him release, but you both know it won't happen. There is something so beguiling about his desperation, though.

“Do not let him come,” Benedict warns cooly, and you slow your hand. 

Your stays loosen to the point they fall down your arms, and Benedict stops your ministrations to pull your hands off his brother entirely and remove your last scrap of material.

“Look how sensitive her nipples can be, brother,” he riles his sibling as he snags them both almost painfully between the tips of his pointer and thumb. You inhale tremulously and grip Anthony’s knees hard, instinctively leaning back into Benedict, even as your eyes still hold his brother’s. His chin rests on your shoulder as he keeps teasing you until they are stiff peaks, you writhing slightly under his touch as the buzz of pleasure-pain grows. He is not gentle, and it's precisely what you need. 

“I may have been in France lately,” he adds conversationally, addressing you both. “Tell me, my girl, have you read Justine?”

Your breath catches in your throat. The scandalous book by the Marquis de Sade was your sexual awakening.

“Yes, sir.”

“Mmm, good,” he rumbles as he continues to pull on your nipples to the point you gasp. “Grab him again. I shall be back.”

Even though Benedict leaves the room and is out of sight, you grab Anthony's cock as you were told and stroke him again.

“My lady, please let me come,” his eyes so large, his long lashes blinking so appealingly as his toned chest heaves. 

“No,” you retort quietly as your nipples throb and miss Benedict's fingers, “I have more plans for you.”

“What plans?” he almost stutters, ragged.

“I cannot go tonight without this sublime cock being inside me,” you admit as Benedict reenters the room with a little box, a small bowl of water and a bottle of clove oil. You recognise the product - it is used to make anal penetration comfortable, and your heart leaps into your throat. You have not crossed that line with either of them yet.

“Release him,” he commands, and you do so. 

Anthony almost howls, a vein in his temple throbbing, all the tendons in his neck tensing. Part of your heart goes out to him; part of you wants to keep him like this all day. Teeming with need and so wildly ravishing when so on edge. 

“Turn to face me. Stay on your knees.” You do as bidden; Benedict feels so tall as you kneel submissively before him, keeping your head bowed. “Look at me,” and you lift your sights to him, not missing the straining bulge at your natural eye line. 

He snaps open what looks like a jewellery box and holds out a small metal item, almost resembling an earring but with a small round loop and a teardrop blue jewel hanging from two prongs.

“Do you know what this is?” he asks, holding it closer to your face.

“No sir,” you admit honestly.

“I remembered how much you enjoyed it when I slipped your hairpins over your nipples some weeks ago,” he smiles, and you blush at the memory. “So I purchased you a special gift in Paris recently. It is designed to clamp onto your delightful nipples,” he explains as you feel your body tingle at the idea. “They can be adjusted to make your pleasure more… acute,” he smirks.

“Oh, thank you so much, sir. They are splendid. Please put them on me,” you beseech, and a tart-tasting thumb hooks into the corner of your mouth.

“You are such a good obedient little thing, aren’t you?” his tone impressed, and you blossom under his praise. 

You would do anything to please him. You shuffle forward on your knees and nuzzle your face onto his straining cock, as it almost threatens to tear the seams of the wool.

“Not yet,” he clucks, “you get your treat later,” he proclaims, pulling you away as you attempt to suckle him through the material. “Shoulders back,” he taps your skin, and you do so, presenting your breasts to him. “Good girl.”

Those two words are always catnip to you; you want to do everything he says when they roll decadently over his tongue. He could parade you naked in public on all fours, like a little pet, and you would do it. 

“What delightful thoughts are running through that sharp mind of yours,” he asks with a knowing smile, stroking your cheek fondly.

“Just how much I enjoy pleasing you, sir,” you reply truthfully without giving specifics.

Suddenly he grabs a nipple and slips the clamp over it. The pinch and pressure he selects takes you by surprise. 

“You’ll have to give me more detail than that, or I slide this tighter,” he cautions.

“How I would do anything for you, sir,” you amend, your voice going a little reedy as your nipple starts to tingle and throb lightly with your pulse.

Before you know it, the other nipple is trapped with the same force. You gasp as both start pulsing. It makes your clit throb, too, in sympathy almost.

“How I would let you parade me naked in public,” rushes out of your lips with a hiss before you can stop it.

“My darling girl,” his voice suddenly rough. “I want that; everyone should know you belong to me.” Behind you, Anthony growls. “To us,” Benedict amends quickly with a nod.

That Anthony thinks he has a right to claim you when he is tied up submissively makes you want to laugh. 

“Sir, may I have your permission to deal with my defiant boy?” you request drolly.

Benedict barks a laugh. “Granted, my love.” It’s the first time he’s used such a term of endearment, and your eyes dart to his. You see a sliver of panic slicing the usual calm of his demeanour, the dominant mask he wears slipping a fraction. You don’t want to say anything to jeopardise the moment, but something feels tender and taut like an invisible cord could snap if you react wrong, unravelling the wonderful scene you have built together. You opt to ignore or treat it as if it means nothing.

“Thank you, sir,” you respond brightly, and he seems to exhale a relieved breath.

Your nipple throb as you swing around on your knees and address Anthony.

“What makes you think you may lay claim to me, pretty boy?” your voice steely. “I think you may be forgetting who is in charge of you here tonight,” your eyebrow almost at your hairline, so excited to see how he will react.

“I’m sorry, my lady,” he bows his head. “I am so used to thinking of you as mine. I am, of course, yours,” he assures, not daring to meet your gaze.

His long-abandoned cock throbs in his lap. He has sat patiently without reward as Benedict clamped your nipples. But you want to punish him some more before you reward him with your body.

“Sir, do you have any clean paintbrushes?” you ask over your shoulder to a bemused Benedict.

“Of course,” and he walks to his easel returning with a medium bristle brush, handing it to you.

“Thank you, sir” you smile up at him, and he pets your hair affectionately.

“More importantly, what are you planning to do with it?” his tone amused.

“I’m going to make my boy here a moaning ticklish mess,” you reply with a wicked grin.

Anthony groans as you immediately run the bristles lightly up his inner thigh, the muscle quivering. 

“Maybe this gentle torture will teach him that sometimes the harshest punishments of them all are the softest,” you say pointedly to no one in particular. Still, the ironic laugh from Benedict suggests he appreciates it. You swirl the brush over the head of Anthony’s cock, and he groans gutturally, heavy puffs out of his nose. “And you don’t need to leave heavy marks on someone to teach them a lesson.”

“Oh dear brother, there are most definitely some lessons being applied here,” Benedict says with a wry smirk, perhaps a touch uncharitably, revelling in his freedom as his brother is teased so thoroughly.

Anthony leaks again over the bristles of the brush, and you paint his precum down his shaft as he pants and squirms harder.

“Please, my lady,” he implores on a jagged exhale, “please do not tease me more. I promise I have learned my lesson not to treat your body so harshly.”

“And do you promise that if you ever leave such harsh marks on my body again, I have every right to do the same to you?” It's a daring proposition you make, knowing he’s hardly in a position to negotiate as you slowly drag the bristles over his balls.

He snuffles, and you can see him warring with the idea, his eyes a maelstrom. “Yes, my lady,” he agrees through clenched teeth.

“Good boy,” you compliment and push up to kiss him hotly, invading his mouth with a predatory kiss. 

“Well, I think he has earned a show,” Benedict opines rhetorically, “And it’s high time this lovely girl had an orgasm,” he adds, taking the brush from your fingers.

He walks away and drags another wingback chair right in front of the one Anthony is tied to. Then he sits in it while you are still kneeling between them.

“Climb into my lap, darling girl,” he coos invitingly, and you obey instantly, curling into his lap almost catlike. He kisses you hard and heavy, a hand holding your jaw. “Face him,” Benedict nudges your nose as your part. You twist and face Anthony as you perch in his lap. “Now open those legs wide and show him your pretty cunt, do it,” the words are murmured warmly in your ear, and you obey. Bringing your feet onto Benedict's knees and splaying your thighs out wide. “Good girl,” he flatters, and you moan as his fingers slide over your pubic hair and into your folds.

You know this is to rile Anthony even more. He cannot even touch himself as you are being pleasured. 

“Be nice and vocal now; show him how good this is,” Benedict lectures, his fingers instantly making you flex your toes around his kneecaps, and you savour the heat of his cock branding your lower back as he circles your clit with just the perfect amount of pressure.

‘It feels so good, sir,” you raise your arms and wrap your hands back around his neck without prompting, which he greatly approves of, the jewels of your clamps catching the light and sparkling brilliantly as you flex with each touch. 

“Good girl, cling to me; look how pretty your nipples look. All swollen and sparkling with my jewels,” he compliments, staring down the plain of your body. “Now tell me what you want.”

“I want your fingers inside me, sir,”  you respond, ensuring you hold Anthony’s gaze, jealousy and covetousness written all over his features.

Benedict does as you ask, sliding two long elegant fingers down your labia, hooking them into your pussy. His thumb pushes gently on your clit, moving his whole arm as he teases you with expert strokes. He knows exactly what you need and wastes no time taking you right where you want to go.

“Is that what you need?” his voice like rich honey.

“Oh god, yes, sir,” you nod and bite your lip for Anthony’s benefit, playing up just for your captive audience.

“Talk to me, pretty boy,” you call to Anthony.

“You look angelic, my lady,” he responds instantly.

“Tell me what you would do to me if you were free,” you goad, wanting him to talk explicit detail as Benedict expertly plays your body like an instrument.

“I would like to be on my knees between your legs, my lady. I want to bury my face into your beautiful flower, enrapture myself in your aroma, drink your nectar, caress your petals with my tongue,” he offers, his voice low and gravelly.

“Yesss,” you hiss, your mind conjuring the image of him knelt before you deferentially, his wrists bound together behind his back with your silks as his mouth brings you untold pleasures. You move one hand from around Benedict��s neck down and push it between your bodies, grabbing his rigid cock through the wool of his trousers, needing to feel steely power under your fingers. As you do so, you stare at Anthony’s cock, almost pulsing in time with your moans.

Benedict growls as you palm him, and his hand inside you speeds up. The room fills with the sound of his movement in your wet channel and the scent of your arousal. Your moans getting louder and more urgent. Anthony’s knuckles turn white where he grips the arms of his chair, his eyes trained between your legs.

“I bet your boy wishes this was him,” Benedict baits, “his fingers inside your gorgeous cunt, you grabbing his cock….” 

You giggle and blow Anthony a kiss, knowing the jibes are winding him up even further.

“So close, are you not?” Benedict mutters richly in your ear, somewhat superfluous; he knows your body so well now that he can sense all the signs of your impending orgasm.

You nod, panting loudly, climbing that invisible ladder where your skin feels flushed and your lips tingle. Benedict's other hand suddenly spans across your chest, and he is able to flick both clamped throbbing nipples at once. The jolt is like fire—the catalyst that hurtles you breakneck fast, screaming almost instantly. 

“Make a good show for him.” 

It’s the last thing you hear before the rush of blood in your ears, and you convulse hard, throwing your head back and shuddering full-bodied on his lap. You writhe, trying to evade the intensity, but he holds you open with his body strength, drawing it out into something that makes you scream again, leaking onto his fingers as he spouts encouragements. 

Spent, you slump back onto his chest, gulping deep breaths and pleading for him to stop. He stills his motions and withdraws his fingers, taking them to his mouth and licking them clean obscenely, staring down his brother, who is breathing raggedly. After a few moments, when you return to normal, Benedict senses your need for something else.

“What is it, my girl? What do you want?”

“I want to fuck my pretty boy,” you stumble as he caresses your face, your speech still drowsy from your orgasm.

Both men make a noise that exhilarates every ounce of your being.

“I will allow it,” Benedict concedes, “with one condition…. I get to fuck you too.”

Your brow knits. “Of course, you will, sir,” your voice portrays how facile you think his request is.

Benedict grabs your jaw to the side to ensure you look at him, into his eyes. “Oh no, you don’t understand,” he chuckles darkly. “At the same time,” he specifies, and your stomach feels as if it has taken flight.

“Sir…?” your disbelief a broken whisper, staring at him, mouth agape.

“You heard me. You will take both of us at once. And I get to choose which place I want.”

“But sir….” You begin to protest, nerves flaring.

“Give me your colour,” he demands, cutting right to the point.

“Green,” you mumble your truth. 

“Yes, that’s exactly what I thought,” he smirks.

You climb off Benedict’s lap and go to Anthony’s, like a safe harbour in a storm. Even though his hands are tied down, he strains his fingers to touch you, and you lace them with yours, taking comfort in him.

“I am nervous,” you confess quietly, sitting on his knees.

“Do not be my lady,” his tone pitched to reassure. “You know your sir would never hurt you,” he reminds.

“I know that; it's the intensity,” you answer. “You are both blessed with, how should I say, a familial trait of impressive size. I fear my body may be unable to accommodate you both at once.”

Benedict is suddenly close behind you. “Is your word closer to yellow or even red, my girl?” his commanding voice replaced with a gentler tone of concern.

“No sir,” you state clearly, “I just…. I have never experienced penetration into my other place beyond fingers.”

Benedict looks at his brother. “You have never…?” he asks quietly.

Anthony shakes his head.

“My apologies, darling girl,” Benedict mutters, “I made an error in my assumption. We do not need to do this…” he places a tender kiss on your shoulder.

“NO!!” you exclaim rather more forcefully than planned, taking them both by surprise. “I want to do this,” you clarify, “more than anything. I will just need for it to be slow.”

The brothers share a look you have long since realised is their silent communication. Somehow they know how to care for you without breaking the scene. It is why you cannot resist playing with them—the wonderful way they can both intuit your needs and work together to take you places you have never dreamed of. It's why you are so desperate to take them both at once; you trust them implicitly to make it unforgettable for you.

“You are a wonder, my lady,” Anthony murmurs, his eyes shining with reverence, squeezing his fingers around yours.

“Truly special, my girl,” Benedict adds, rubbing a soothing pattern over your spine. “I have a suggestion for how we can do this.”

“Tell us, brother,” Anthony breathes, his status as the elder statesman of the family somehow seeping out into the way he says it. 

You realise it must be a strange dynamic that, as firstborn, he is willing to submit to the will of his younger brother for you through you. Your admiration of him ratchets higher as your gaze falls again to his hands and how he has continued to respect the hold you have placed him in; a few easy moves, and he could be free. 

Unsure how to process the feeling, you surge forward and capture Antony’s lips in a searing kiss that takes him by surprise, as he does not respond for a split second. Then he is opening under your assault, and its fire in your lungs, burning bright. With the hand not holding Anthony’s, you reach blindly back for Benedict, and sweetly he brings your hand to his jaw and holds it there, leaning his face into your touch. Your tongue spars with Anthony’s, and it takes every fibre not to climb onto his cock, but you want to hear what Benedict has to say about how this can be done. Breaking your kiss with Anthony but keeping your hand tight in his, you whip around and pull Benedict down into a similarly passionate kiss, your nipple clamps dragging delightfully through the ruffles of his shirt as you press your body into him, moulding around him, his hands hot on your skin.

“What do you suggest, sir?” you pant over his mouth, squeezing Anthony’s fingers.

Benedict's lips run over your cheek and land hot on the column of your neck. “My brother should be the one you explore new territory with; I think you should take him inside your bottom while I fuck you, darling girl.”

You love the idea. And so does Anthony, based on the noise he makes. You twist slightly to meet his gaze.

“My lady, I want that. So very, very much. Please.” He whispers, his eyes imploring.

“I want that too,” you concur as Benedict’s lips run down to your shoulder.

“I believe you may find this easier laying down,” Benedict counsels, “my chaise over there may be best,” signalling a piece of furniture reminiscent of the one you all used in his art studio at Aubrey Hall. “But you could not tie him to it, alas.” he ends drily.

“I believe he may have learned his lesson well enough to be untied now,” you state, moving to unwrap the silk stockings over Anthony’s wrists.

Anthony looks overjoyed as his hands are finally freed, and without asking your permission, he bands his arms tight around you and stands, wrapping your legs and arms around him like a vine.

“My darling lady,” he dotes as he walks you over to the chaise, nuzzling your face.

“My beautiful boy,” you smile, running your fingers over the contours of his face, something so profound at that moment. 

This night seems so emotionally charged compared to others. As if this final hurdle of intimacy between the three of you represents a new chapter. You know these men will be so physically close doing this, with just you between them, that must represent a new level of understanding between them. 

“I need you both so much,” you admit honestly as Anthony sits down on the chaise with you in his lap.

“We need you too,” Anthony responds, his voice a little tight, and his lips find yours again in a sweet kiss as if sealing a pact as he shuffles to lay down with you on top of him.

“We really do,” Benedict concurs as he draws up behind you. “Let me prep you, my wonderful girl,” Benedict says gently with a quick kiss on the slope of your shoulder. 

You whisper your consent and widen your stance on top of Anthony. Benedict pulls your cheeks apart, and you jump slightly at the sensation of oil being poured there. You release a calming breath as Anthony whispers reassurances, your fingers entwined with his, your lips tracing his cheekbone, feeling a slight rasp of stubble there.

You groan as the sensation you have felt only once before, a swirling around your tight ring of muscle, then gradually fingertips applying pressure there that your body doesn't want to yield to.

“Relax, my girl,” Benedict’s voice is a soft tutor, “take a breath, let me in.” You do as asked and moan as a finger breeches inside you, fighting your body’s urge to push him out. “That's it,” he adds, and you relax into the invasive feeling, his finger moving deeper as another joins it.

You hum and close your eyes, rocking slightly back onto his hand, starting to enjoy the unusual sensation, the drag of his knuckles against your passage.

“Yes, darling girl, take me all in,” he says velvet dark, “you are doing so well.” 

Anthony strokes your hair and peppers light kisses on your face as you gaze at him with no doubt blown pupils and wide eyes, getting used to being filled somewhere new. Benedict adds a third finger and starts to make a scissoring action inside, and you can’t help but groan at the stretch as he pours more oil around and into your body.

“Anthony…,” you murmur his name, not your titles, on reflex, feeling susceptible, and he smiles reassuringly. 

“You do this so well; I cannot wait to try this new experience with you,” he offers honestly and kisses your lips delicately.

“I think you are ready, my girl,” Benedict states quietly, his fingers deep in you, spreading your muscles and coating you with more oil. “Rub some of this on his cock,” he coaches, placing the bottle in your hand and gradually withdrawing his fingers.

Anthony whimpers lightly as you lubricate his cock, ensuring it is glistening and shiny, looking somehow more appetising now than ever. Benedict cleanses his hands in the small bowl of water, then sweetly helps you to your feet to lay down backwards on top of Anthony. All you feel under your spine is the tickle of his chest hair and the play of muscles across his toned chest as you settle over him, glancing at the ceiling as if in a short prayer.

“Whenever you are ready,” Benedict whispers, “take him into your body, my darling.” Once again, it's a term of endearment without the girl moniker that you try to ignore. 

You shuffle on top of Anthony, who just holds your waist loosely. Taking a deep breath, you line him up. They are quiet as you do, giving you the space and time to do this at your own pace. You place your other hand over Anthony’s as you feel an entirely new sensation of his cock sliding bluntly between your cheeks.

“You are doing wonderful, my girl,” he reassures, grasping your fingers between his, and you give a brief nod in acknowledgement. 

You groan as he breaches your body and puff out air. It’s all heat and pressure. It feels so different, not unpleasant, just… odd. Anthony groans, too; his forehead rests on your shoulder as he seems to babble nonsense words. It must be intense for him too. So slowly, you sink down, taking time and deep relaxing breaths. Inch by inch, you sink lower, cataloguing each reaction your body has. After what seems like ages, you reach his root and let out a long low whimper—feeling so invaded and stretched.

‘Well done, darling girl. Benedict touches your face dotingly, and you beam up at him, the praise doing wonders for you. “Brother, you should hold her open,” Benedict advises, and Anthony moves his hands down to either side of your legs.

“I hope you like my hand imprints on your thighs, my lady,” he says softly into your neck. You don't have a chance to ask what he means before Benedict is giving orders again. 

“Hook your legs up his onto his arms. My brother will hold you,” Benedict lectures, and you slowly move into position, moaning as you feel Anthony flex inside your bottom as you do so.

Anthony’s strong fingers wrap around your inner thigh, and then you gasp as he pulls his arms upwards and outwards. You feel a slight burn in the tendons of your pelvis, legs forced so obscenely wide open and exposed.

“Perfect,” Benedict opines and stares at you. “I wish I could paint this moment. Look at you, all open and leaking, desperate for another cock.”

You can't stop the noise you emit; it's apprehension, want and nerves all wrapped in one. He starts to strip, enjoying his captured audience of you staring at him, almost open-mouthed. Your mind is still turning over the idea of taking both of them at once. As he roughly unbuttons his trousers, you find your voice.

“Sir, I'm not sure I can do this,” you pant, nerves flaring as his sizeable cock stares you right in the face. You feel so very full, impaled as you are on Anthony.

“Yes, you can,” he answers gruffly. “You know your safety word,” he warns. 

You clamp your lip between your teeth—that is the last thing you want to say. It’s like he senses you need a slight roughness of tone in this moment, a balance to the unspoken emotions bubbling away this evening.

“You know you can do it, my lady,” Anthony’s soft voice rings in your ear. “I’m right here, with you, inside you; you feel so wondrous.”

“You feel so good, too,” you whisper, surprised that is the case. The more you adjust to the feeling, the more you enjoy it. 

Then Benedict is climbing over you, all warm skin and lithe muscles. He is careful not to put too much weight on your body, his lips finding yours in a kiss as you feel his cock nestled hot on the apex of your thighs.

“Alright, sir, I'm ready,” you murmur as your lips part, and he cups your jaw, the blueish ring of his eyes flaring as his pupils dilate.

“I will go slow, I promise,” he rumbles, his thumb swiping tenderly over your cheek, and you feel his speech vibrating your ribcage.

Your body feels so hot pressed between them, Anthony's chest hair tickling your back as Benedict's warm skin covers yours, dragging your jewelled clamps, your nipples still throbbing insistently. And then you feel him reaching down to guide himself into your body.

You groan loudly as his tip nudges into your cunt. You have never felt so stretched in that region before. A curse falls from your lips, and Benedict pauses, allowing you to get used to this small amount.

“Are you alright?” he checks, his voice filled with affectionate concern.

“Yes sir, it's just…. it's so much,” you reply truthfully.

Anthony’s hands holding your thighs up and open, caress your skin in a soothing pattern as Benedict starts to move again, sliding deeper inside you. You have no words to describe the feeling except utterly full. Anthony is making small panting sounds under you, and you know they must be able to feel each other; you can feel them pressing against each other through the wall of your body. You make a long, continuous whining noise as he pushes further until finally, Benedict rests entirely inside you. 

“Well done, my wonderful girl,” Benedict gusts, sounding a little breathless already, “you feel so exquisitely tight.”

They both make sounds of pleasure as you move to kiss them both, swivelling to capture Anthony’s lips and then Benedict’s. You have never kissed them as much while you play as you do tonight. Something indeed so profound is happening between you.

“Im going to move now, slowly,” Benedict advises.

You find yourself incapable of words, so you just nod, one hand covering one of Anthony’s on your leg and the other resting on Benedict's shoulder.

You feel him withdraw slightly, then surge back in; your mouth falls slack, and your eyes roll back. Nothing could have prepared you for this. How it feels, how the motion and fullness pulls all your skin taut, your clit being pulled down towards his shaft so strong that you may not even need anyone to touch it to come.

You whine a curse as he repeats the motion, and you just know you won't last long like this, your body already so overwhelmed. Anthony behind you is already moaning gently too.

“Go faster, sir,” you goad, greedily chasing what you feel is headed for you.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes,” you answer with clenched teeth, “give it to me, sir, to us,” knowing the friction and tightness will probably be enough for Anthony without moving.

And that is the permission he needs.

Benedict starts to fuck you properly as he always does, and you cling on for dear life as he wrenches the most debauched noises and the most extreme sensations from your body. Every ounce of your being feels on fire, and you are hyper-aware of everything, the puff of their breaths on your damp skin, the noises each of them make, the pressure and intense pleasure you feel as Benedict ploughs into your cunt repeatedly while Anthony holds your ass open. And then Anthony begins to ripple under you, fractional surges into your body, and you lose all sense. You go limp and slackjawed, just letting them both take you somewhere that is so far away and yet so rooted in your body.

You know you are moaning and babbling nonsense, and you know they are wrenching the most filthy noises from your body, and you just don't care. All you want is for them never to stop. No words are spoken; in fact, you have temporarily lost the power of speech, so engrossed in just chasing all the feelings in your body, getting lost in the fog of both men moving inside and around you. All three of you are panting and moaning in unison as the rhythm you hit together adds another layer to the explosive dynamic. Over and over and over, you move as if one, some carnal dance that is astonishing and almost mystical. This is something so other, so uniquely shared and incredibly intimate, that you know things could never be the same between you again.

“Please…” you gasp, broken and panting, and they intuit precisely what you need. Benedict kisses you hard, all tongue and biting intensity, as one of Anthony’s hands snakes to your breast and pulls off one of your clamps.

The rush of blood to your nipple as it is released makes you yell out and convulse around them, and they both groan so deeply your whole body vibrates. 

“Holy f….” Anthony’s curse is broken and wrecked. “Do that again, just please, please do that again.”

“Take off the other one,” you implore desperately, and Benedict's fingers find the other clamp and yank it off roughly, and you scream. The throbbing in your clit is almost painful and in sync with your nipples.

“Oh my god,” Benedict groans, his hand roughly cups your breast, his mouth falls to your nipple, he sucks hard and then bites down, as Anthony snakes a hand between bodies, and as soon as his thumb brushes your clit, that is it, you are gone.

The intensity of your orgasm is almost frightening. Your whole pelvis convulses, contracting and rippling around both of them to the point they howl more like beasts than men. Every cell in your body feels changed, altered, broken and rearranged in a new pattern, your skin hums like static after a storm, and your heart feels ready to burst out of your chest. All you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears. You know the boys are calling out, but they have stopped moving, the crush of you tightening like a vice around them, faltering their movements. Vaguely, you feel something warm bloom in your bottom, and Benedict withdraws from your body suddenly.

When you return to presence, they are both breathing so hard your body is being pushed with their chests heaving, and you feel sticky wetness all around your thighs as Anthony slips from inside your body, and you groan at the change of sensation there.

“I… I don’t have the words for that,” Benedict admits, his head slumped onto your breastbone, sounding so overwhelmed.

“Same brother, same,” Anthony chimes in over your shoulder, his voice so rough that he clears his throat.

You cannot even speak, rendered dumbfounded, earth-shaken, mind-altered. They seem to accept your muteness, and their soothing hands skim your body silently as you all absorb the intensity of the experience you just shared. Your insides ache, but in a way that you are desperate to feel again. Part of you wants to pipe up your usual witty remark about ‘same time again tomorrow, boys’, but another part of you stops short. The atmosphere feels too precious to be glib, too tender and profound to dismiss with humour. 

And as they help you to your feet, they are extra loving, with lots of kisses and tender touches. Anthony goes to sanitise and relieve himself, and while he is gone, Benedict sees you stifle a yawn and convinces you to do something you never have before. To rest in his bedroom, Anthony joining you. 

You argue that it will just be for an hour, and then you will leave, but you fall asleep almost instantly. Sometime later, you awaken in the middle of the night and are sandwiched between their warm bodies. Both look so angelic as they sleep soundly, their limbs wrapped around yours. And for the first time ever, you choose to stay—to spend the night. As you drift back to sleep, your only thought is how a large part of you wants this, just this, always.  

Anthony & Benedict taglists: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @queenofmean14

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #Anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton x reader #Anthony bridgerton x female reader #Anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x y/n #Anthony bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton smut #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton

[notwiselybuttoowell]

In 2014, the Guardian asked me to nominate my hero of the year. To some people’s surprise, I chose Russell Brand. I loved the way he energised young people who had been alienated from politics. I claimed, perhaps hyperbolically, he was “the best thing that has happened to the left in years” (in my defence, there wasn’t, at the time, much competition).

Today, I can scarcely believe it’s the same man. I’ve watched 50 of his recent videos, with growing incredulity. He appears to have switched from challenging injustice to conjuring phantoms. If, as I suspect it might, politics takes a very dark turn in the next few years, it will be partly as a result of people like Brand.

It’s hard to decide which is most dispiriting: the stupidity of some of the theories he recites, or the lack of originality. He repeatedly says he’s not a conspiracy theorist, but, to me, he certainly sounds like one.

In 2014, he was bursting with new ideas and creative ways of presenting them. Today, he wastes his talent on tired and discredited tales: endless iterations of the alleged evils of the World Economic Forum founder, Klaus Schwab, the Great Reset, Bill Gates, Nancy Pelosi, the former US chief medical adviser, Anthony Fauci, Covid vaccines, medical data, the World Health Organization, Pfizer, smart cities and “the globalist masterplan”.

His videos appear to promote “natural immunity” ahead of vaccines, and for a while pushed ivermectin and hydroxychloroquine as treatments for Covid (they aren’t).

He championed the “Freedom Convoy” that occupied Ottawa, which apparently stood proudly against the “tyranny” of Justin Trudeau’s policies. He hawks Graham Hancock’s widely debunked claims about ancient monuments.

A wildly popular clip from one of his videos about the Dutch nitrate crisis offers a classic conspiracy theory mashup: a tangle of claims that may be true in other contexts, random accusations, scapegoating and resonances with some old and very ugly tropes. He claims that “this whole fertiliser situation is a scam”. The real objective is “to bankrupt the farmers so their land can be grabbed”. This “shows you how the Great Reset operates”, using “globalist” regulations to throw farmers off their land. He claims it’s “connected to the land grab of Bill Gates” and the “corruption of companies like Monsanto”.

In reality, the Dutch government was forced to act by a legal ruling, as levels of nitrate pollution, largely from livestock farms, break European law. Its attempts to curb this pollution have nothing to do with the World Economic Forum and its vacuous rhetoric about a “Great Reset”. Or with Bill Gates. Or with Monsanto, which hasn’t existed since 2018 when it was bought by Bayer. So why mention them? Perhaps because these terms have become potent click triggers.

Brand is repeating claims first made by far-right conspiracists, who have piled into this issue, claiming that the nitrate crisis is a pretext to seize land from farmers, in whom, they claim, true Dutch identity is vested, and hand it to asylum seekers and other immigrants. It’s a version of the “great replacement” conspiracy theory, itself a reworking of the Nazis’ blood and soil tropes about protecting the “rooted” and “authentic” people – in whom “racial purity” and “true” German identity was vested – from “cosmopolitan” and “alien” forces (ie Jews). Brand may not realise this, as the language has changed a little – “cosmopolitans” have become “globalists”, “aliens” have become “immigrants” – but the themes have not.

On and drearily on he goes. He manages to confuse the World Health Organization’s call for better pandemic surveillance (by which it means the tracking of infectious diseases) with coercive surveillance of the population, creating “centralised systems of control where you are ultimately a serf”.

Some of his many rants about Bill Gates are illustrated with an image of the man wearing a multicoloured lapel badge, helpfully circled in red. This speaks to another widespread conspiracy theory: those who wear this badge are members of a secret organisation conspiring to control the world (so secret they stick it on their jackets). In reality, it shows support for the UN sustainable development goals.

Such claims are not just wrong. They are wearyingly, boringly wrong. But, to judge by the figures (he has more than 6 million subscribers on YouTube), the audience loves them.

Some of his theories, such as his recent obsession with UFOs, are innocuous enough. Others have potential to do great harm. There’s the risk to the people scapegoated, such as Fauci, Schwab and Pelosi: subjects of conspiracy theories often become targets of violence. There are the risks misleading claims present to public health. And bizarre stories about shadowy “elites” protect real elites from scrutiny and challenge.

While I’m not suggesting this is his purpose, it’s a tactic used deliberately by powerful people to disarm those who might otherwise hold them to account. Donald Trump’s former chief strategist, Steve Bannon, had a term for it: “flood the zone with shit”. As Naomi Klein has shown, the Great Reset conspiracy theory was conceived by a staffer at the Heartland Institute, a US lobby group that has promoted climate denial and other billionaire-friendly positions. It’s a bastardisation of her shock doctrine hypothesis, distracting people from the malfeasance of those with real power.

#russell brand #british comedy #conspiracy theories #george monbiot #uk politics

[lurkingshan]

Goodbye Cooking Crush

Aw man, I am so sad this wonderful little show is over. It delivered everything I needed and held up all the way through its run. Everything came together in this finale for some great final payoffs, and the characters stayed true. When we were watching the finale I said to @neuroticbookworm and @twig-tea that this show is writing porn, because all of the narrative threads build and converge in such a satisfying way. I posted a couple weeks ago that this show is exactly what you want from a good romcom, and I stand by it. Great outing for OffGun and a very rewarding show that I will surely be rewatching many times.

As expected, this week delivered a solid, nuanced ending for Ten's family conflict. I loved the way Ten sat Prem down at the family table, took the chair opposite his father at the other end of the table in a clear power move, and told him in no uncertain terms that Prem was his boyfriend and he had to accept it. And his dad did not have a sudden personality transplant; he pushed back and challenged Prem to prove his integrity. It made sense to me that Prem wanted to pay that money back; the money scam from the beginning of their relationship has been weighing on him the whole time, and he doesn't want any shred of doubt lingering over his relationship with his in-laws. My favorite part of that whole sequence was Prem's grandma finally finding out about the money and getting out her switch; this was never Prem's burden to bear alone and I'm glad he learned his lesson about not asking for help.

So Ten's dad was forced to accept Prem when he came through on his promise, and he even offered a classic Asian parent version of an apology by coming to Prem's restaurant to acknowledge him, which is more than I expected from him. My favorite thing about that final scene at the restaurant is that Ten's dad hasn't really changed and he and Ten are not suddenly getting along; their conversation was still adversarial even as he finally explained a couple things, and in the end he was left to eat at the table alone. No unearned parental 180 here. They are not suddenly a big happy family, but they've settled on a detente everyone can live with. It feels right.

And in another family drama, Fire finally found the courage to tell his mother how much she has hurt him, and after an initial rejection, she realized she didn't want to lose Fire and offered him acceptance. I would have liked a bit more breathing room in this plot because her turn felt a little too easy, but it's a side story so I get that they were time constrained. It was nice to see Fire finally stand up for her, and Dynamite begrudgingly accepted into the family. I liked that Dy's family didn't magically appear; not all families will accept their queer children, and that is the reality he has to live with. But it must have felt somewhat healing to see that happen for Fire and know he was a big part of giving Fire the courage to finally come out.

Meanwhile, the Three Must-Eat-Ers lost the cooking competition but won the hearts of many with the touching story of their final dish, and built careers bolstered by their show fandom. I was so pleased to get the flash forward to show us that Prem did get to open his chef's table restaurant, with Ten's full support (and with rings of some sort on, not sure if they're engaged or married but they are definitely committed). It was the very sweet cherry on top of the ice cream sundae of their romance. Ten and Prem, Communication Kings, are going down as one of my all-time favorite bl couples.

I am agnostic on the final Samsee/Pang reveal, given my hopes for a Samsee/Metha pairing. I'm not mad at the show for not going there--it would definitely have been pairing the spares to put Samsee and Metha together, which I generally do not go in for--and am mostly happy that Samsee found love and Metha is still part of the gang. I would have also loved to see those bullies get some comeuppance, but honestly, bullies often win, and it didn't feel like a true loss for our boys so I'm good with it. This was a solid finale for a feel good show and I will miss it dearly.

#cooking crush #thai bl #shan shouts into the void

[jisungsdaydreamer]

Stray Kids as High School Romance AUs

Pairing: OT8 x fem!reader Genre: headcanon, fluff, angst if you squint Warnings: mentions of bullying but nothing super serious! Word Count: 5.4k

Lee Know

The mysterious one, a classic tsundere

You know that one kid who’s been in your class since you were a little kid but you still don’t know anything about them? Minho right there.

He sits in the back of class and says nothing, even though some of his friends (aka the rest of the boys) are so loud at lunch

He would just quietly eat his sandwich before he catches you watching him and stares right back at you, making you awkwardly look away 

You’re so intrigued that you keep observing him, noticing little things like the cat stickers his phone is covered in, or the fact that he’s the secret mastermind behind the pudding trading business that your principal banned from school

Your first interaction with Minho is when you stumble upon him feeding a couple stray cats in the abandoned playground in your community

He’s super embarrassed to be caught being all soft and cute, especially given his cold front at school, but eventually warms up to you when you offer the cats some bread from your pocket

Meeting at the playground to pet the cats or just sit on the swings in a comfortable silence becomes your thing with Minho. You get to know each other better, and turns out, he’s actually really unhinged and chaotic and hilarious. The mysterious and borderline emo thing he worked is just a facade. 

But things don’t change at school, because you feel like you don’t have an excuse to talk to him there.

Until one random day, he just walks into class and wordlessly sets his bag next to your chair

“Why are you sitting next to me?”

“I should be able to sit next to my girl, right?”

You’re confused and exhilarated and kind of skeptical until Minho explains that for some time now, he’s seen you as his girlfriend. Who else would he sacrifice his dance lessons for? Feeding the cats together was basically a date, right? Do you not feel the same about him?! Wait, what?!!?

He’s all shy now and unsure and panicking internally, until you squeeze his hand under the desk and whisper to him that you like him too

You meet more often from there on, and he’s the kind of loving and attentive boyfriend that doesn’t say much, but will do anything for you. 

He takes an extra water bottle to school everyday, just in case if you forgot, and brings you delicious lunches that he made himself

Going to cat cafés and long drives around town are musts for you both

And when his friends tease him about you, he fiercely swats them away before retreating to you for cuddles like one of his beloved kittens

He’s soft only for you

So sweet ^ω^

2. Hyunjin

Everyone has a little bit of a crush on Hyunjin. The girls who fawn over his good looks, the creative writing kids who pine over poems they spin about him, and even the sweet old lady at the front desk.

And you’re not immune. 

You’ve basically had a huge crush on him since your first day of high school

You’ve done a couple of assignments together and how sweet and charming he is never fails to get you screaming into your pillow when you get home

He once bought you an iced americano at the coffee shop when you were partnered together on a project for school, and even though you didn’t like it, you drank the whole thing. 

The smile on his face was worth it

Now that you’re in senior year, you can’t help but wish he’d ask you to prom

But that would never happen, because someone as wanted as Hyunjin would never like you

Except he does. Ever since he first saw you in biology class, he’s been floored.

You don’t think he even remembers you outside of class, but the man is so down bad that he watches you doing anything and everything. 

Not in a creepy way ＾▿＾

You’ll be sitting outside in the grass with your friends during lunch, and Hyunjin will also be observing you, sitting against a tree and sketching you in his little notebook like the lover boy he is

You laughing. You sipping on your mango juice. You tucking back your hair.

Bro is just in love.

You randomly find a small sketch of yourself in your bag. It’s beautiful, but you’ve no idea who drew it, even after asking around

More of these drawings show up, everywhere. In your notebook. On your desk. In your glasses case. You wonder who this mystery artist is, and why they chose you to be their muse.

One rainy afternoon, you are trying to find your missing bracelet and find Hyunjin painting in the empty art room

His clumsy self almost falls out of his chair when you walk in on him 

He tries to hide his painting canvas from you until you get suspicious and look over his shoulder. 

It’s a simple portrait of you just smiling

You nearly cry at how beautiful and raw it is, but are also ecstatic because Hyunjin is your secret admirer/artist?!

He confesses his feelings at that point, seeing no point in hiding them any longer, and also unveils the bottom half of the portrait that you hadn’t noticed

PROM? is written in big, bold letters because we all know Hyunjin is extra

He then pulls out a rose, which is a little crumpled from being in his pocket. He pouts about it until you kiss him on the cheek and thank him, accepting his promposal

Hyunjin, the beautiful, unattainable one, is actually the sensitive romantic, and he turns red when you kiss him

You guys are the hottest couple at senior prom, tearing up the dance floor before Hyunjin whisks you away in his car, driving you to a secluded gazebo where he has candles and snacks and everything set up, and you guys just lie there, exchanging hushed “I love you’s” for the first time and gazing out at the stars

3. Changbin

Changbin has been your older brother’s very best friend ever since they both met in their first year of high school

At the gym.

Both your brother and Changbin were kind of unpopular, so both of them were bullied often. And being on the skinnier side, it also made it easier for them to get beat up

So your brother decided to get toned to protect himself, and he ended up registering at your local gym. And guess who he runs into there?

Changbin!

They both become gym buddies, and eventually, bond outside of their work-outs

And bonding includes meeting his baby sister, you.

Changbin had brought a box of biscuits for your mom and a bag of candy for you. 

He was one whole year older than you, but your eighth grade self was WHIPPED.

From then on, you follow Changbin around everywhere. 

And you know what? He never gets annoyed.

He always talks to you without getting embarrassed and even includes you in his conversations with friends, even when your brother clearly tries to kick you out.

But he always sees you as his best friend’s younger sister, like his own sister. You watch him go through many relationships, but your crush on him never wavers. 

And in due time, he becomes real buff. Which doesn’t help. At all.

So you keep your feelings for him as a secret, even though all you really want to do is confess to him and have him all to yourself, because you know he’d probably have to gently reject you.

By the time your junior year rolls around, you know you’re going to be watching Changbin and your big brother graduate together. You don’t have much time left before he leaves town to go to college, and you don’t know how often you’ll see him.

You overhear a lot of the senior girls gossiping about who Changbin might ask out to prom, and everyone whispers about some girl named Soyeon.

You know who they’re talking about; Soyeon is one of Changbin’s good friends, and she, your brother, and Changbin have hung out together multiple times.

You’re instantly filled with so. much. jealousy. 

Because of course he’d choose a hot, cool girl that’s actually his age, over you.

And you’ve even noticed how Changbin has been spending less and less time with you, always dashing off in the middle of conversations or hurrying away to do “homework.”

But you’d rather leave than be left.

From then on, you try to avoid Changbin as much as possible, because liking him was hurting you, more than you’d like to admit, because he didn’t even know. He was your first love.

A few days of ignoring Changbin’s texts and pretending not to see him in the halls, well, of course Changbin will notice.

He knocks on your front door and you open it. Immediately, you assume he’s here for your brother, and you look away.

“My brother’s at soccer practice right now. He can’t hang out.”

“No, actually, I wanted to talk to you.”

You’re surprised, and a little nervous, but still, you let him in, leading him to the kitchen. 

Wordlessly, Changbin heads over to the freezer, pulling out a pint of ice cream, and then a bowl from the dishwasher. He hands a bowl full of rocky road to you, and your heart immediately melts.

He knows you so well; when you’re feeling down, you love ice cream. And he knows your family too, where everything in the kitchen is :((( 

“Are you going to tell me why you’re avoiding me?”

You try to deny it, but one look from him and you’re a goner. You can’t ever lie to him.

“I heard you’re taking Soyeon to prom.”

Changbin looks confused. 

“We’re just friends though???”

“But I heard—”

Changbin rolls his eyes. 

“You believe gossip too much. I was going to ask you.”

Now you’re really unconvinced. 

“Sure. As your little sister.”

Uhhhh, nope.

Changbin groans, and for the first time, he lowkey looks kind of shy.

“I was going to surprise you, and I kept getting nervous, so that’s why I kept rushing off when we were hanging out.”

You feel the happy bubbles rising in your chest, but you’re still kind of unconvinced, until Changbin pulls out his phone and shows you his background.

It’s a selfie of you and him. 

So you both ended up going to prom together, and yes, your brother was watching you both very, very carefully. After, you guys did make it official and started dating over the summer.

When changbin left for college, you guys still stayed together. He’d come back home to visit you a lot, and you guys facetimed multiple times a week. 

Changbin would even help you on your college applications and edit your essays

And he’d also come back for your senior prom, and you guys would go together again.

He’s so cute help meee (✿◠‿◠)

4. Han

You’ve been friends with Jisung ever since you were in diapers.

Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. You became friends in middle school, but Jisung insists that it feels like you were meant to be best friends with him since you both were born.

You met on a cloudy Monday morning during the first week of middle school, when Jisung plopped down in the chair next to you and introduced himself to you. 

Even with your efforts to ward off his friendship, forever wary of strangers, he soon became a part of your daily life, and you actually began to look forward to his antics in class everyday. He made everything so much more interesting and fun, and you love him for it.

Fast forward a few years later, you’re both in your junior year in high school. Both of you are still best friends.

And there’s also Minho, this hot senior you can't talk about because you claim he’s as mysterious as the moon.

Yeahhh, Jisung isn’t buying that crap. To him, Minho is a blank notebook. Boring. He just doesn’t get what you see in that guy!

He whines whenever you bring up Minho, and once, he was so excited that you invited him to Chipotle, but then he realizes it was only because you wanted to inconspicuously spy on Minho, who was also there for lunch.

Jisung ended up grumbling over his rice bowl and then storming out of the restaurant when you *accidentally* went to the soda fountain at the same time as Minho

Later that night, you confront him about why he ditched you at the Chipotle. Jisung gets annoyed and says he doesn’t like how you were using him to be your spy-buddy

And now you’re annoyed, because is that all he got from that?!!!!

Muttering to yourself, you walk home and ignore Jisung’s call to your retreating back

FOR GOD’S SAKE, YOU’RE TRYING TO MAKE YOUR BEST FRIEND JEALOUS.

Your crackhead best friend is the one you like, because puh-lease, Minho is too emo for you.

Jisung keeps texting you all night, but you ignore him, because you’re angry. How dense could your best friend be? Your “mysterious moon” reason for liking Minho was bullshit?! Can’t he take a hint?! Like-

Jisung interrupts your deliberating by throwing a small pebble onto your window

Although you’re still irritated, you guide Jisung up the small tree next to your window (in the process, he nearly falls off to his doom)

Once he’s inside your room, Jisung sits on the bed and you stand in front of him, arms folded like you’re his annoyed parent

“What do you want, Ji? It’s midnight” 

He thrusts out a bag of twizzlers towards you, and you just can’t resist. Candy is your weakness, and it’s what he always bribes you with when you get mad at him

“Iwasntmadbecauseyoumademecometochipotletospyonminho”

“Sorry?”

But Jisung keeps going without slowing down, like the menace he is.

“Iwasmadbecauseilikeyouandimjealousofminho.”

“Yo, what??!”

“I LIKE YOU, JEEZ!”

You rush forward and clamp your hand over Jisung’s mouth, shutting him up before your parents come and kill you. 

“Yeah, I got that, genius! I was just surprised!”

Both of you just stare at each other for a good minute, and then burst into loud laughter

Yeah, this ain’t friends to lovers. More like idiots to lovers.

And yes, your mom also comes in, fuming, and kicks Jisung out. You’re grounded.

But the next day, at school, you and Jisung make things official. You also take the chance to blackmail Jisung that if he ever refuses to buy you candy again whenever you ask, then it’s over.

Jisung laments that he made a mistake in asking you out, but one look from you and he shuts up.

Other than that, you guys become that disgustingly sweet and hilarious couple that’s always in sync.

You both have the dumbest inside jokes and cover each other’s eyes during horror movies

U_U  

5. Felix

The boy next-door… 

He moved in to the house next to yours a few years ago, with his whole family, and with your curiosity, you watched him and his sisters laugh together from behind your curtains

Later that night, Felix knocked on your door and offered you and your parents homemade brownies. Your mother immediately falls in love with the chocolate treats and invites this charming boy’s family over for dinner that night

You become best friends with Rachel and Olivia, Felix’s sisters, but you couldn’t help but have a crush on Felix

Some time later ,when you went over to hang out with the girls, they both had to leave in the middle for piano lessons, but before you could go home, Felix offered to teach you how to bake

That’s how you end up giggling in the kitchen together and teasing each other with flour fights

When Rachel and Olivia are busy, you play video games with Felix in his room— at least, he plays and tries to teach you, while you miserably fail each time

But it’s just so fun to see his eyes light up whenever he wins a match or something

Gamer bf vibes for real 

In school, you notice him in the hallways and he always has a bunch of girls swooning over him, but he always smiles at you and gives you a sweet hug whenever he sees you

Summers are filled with trips to the pool with the Lee siblings and biking around town, getting ice cream and enjoying the air conditioning in the public library.

You and Felix literally grow up together :(

Your bedroom window is directly across from Felix’s, and sometimes, you both wave to each other through glimpses

Once, since your homes aren’t spaced that far apart, Felix threw a delicate paper plane through your window and into your room. 

You were studying for your math test tomorrow, and so it has a cute note written inside wishing you good luck. Also there’s a candy taped to the paper because of his sweet tooth <33

The paper airplane notes become a tradition, and one night, Felix throws an airplane asking you to meet him at the little pond in your neighborhood

It’s literally almost midnight so you’re like ???

But you sneak out anyway, and meet him at the pond

It’s late autumn so you’re freezing in your pajamas, cursing yourself for not bringing a jacket. And the woods surrounding? Creepy as hell, especially in the dark

When you feel someone grab your arm, you scream but then they cover your mouth with their warm, tiny hand and you realize it’s Felix LMAO

He’s brought a container of warm brownies for you, hot cocoa, and a little blanket

You’re speechless. Because what is happening?!

He immediately notices you’re shivering and wraps you in his own jacket and the blanket, before sitting you down next to him, drawing you close in his arms

And snuggled together in front of the moonlit pond, he confesses that he’s liked you since the moment he set his eyes on you

Just kill me now.

Anyway, his sisters are a little mad that they have to share you with him when you guys reveal that you’re a couple, but for the most part, both of your families love you both together

And you guys even become that couple that’s always clinging to each other and being all lovey-dovey in the hallways

But PDA is never cringe with Felix :P 

EVER.

6. Seungmin

He’s definitely the smartest kid in class, the one who everyone goes to get homework help from

You completely envy him, because before he started attending your school, you used to be first in everything

Now?

He’s always first, and you follow closely behind as second. Every. Single. Time.

It infuriates you to the core when your teacher hands back test papers, and before he even checks his score, which is obviously better than yours, he shoots you a little smirk

You dislike him so much that you even tell him that, and you both bicker back and forth. Every time, however, he ends up reminding you that you’re just jealous and need to work harder to catch up with him, which is very true and angers you even more

But when you complain about him to your friends, they tease you and say you like him

Which you absolutely do NOT

Even though you’ve always noticed how his eyes seem to shimmer when he reads a book, or how his smile is brighter than the sun

Ever since your friends have made it their mission to torment you about Seungmin, you can’t help but gaze at him a little longer

He’s always on his own, either studying diligently or finishing homework for another class during study hall, when everyone else just goofed off

At lunch, he sits under a tree and eats calmly while engrossed with a book in his hand, slowly sipping his juice occasionally

One day, you see a couple of the older kids picking on him outside, and you overhear that it’s because he scored better than them in advanced exams

When one of them grabs Seungmin’s shirt and tries to drag him, you instantly see red and charge for the idiot, punching him to the side and grasping Seungmin’s hand

You’re Seungmin’s knight in shining armor!!

But then the other older kids start to close in on you both

Uh-oh.

You and Seungmin make a run for it, escaping narrowly by catching a departing bus. You don’t even know where you both are going, but you breathlessly laugh together about the ordeal

Later, Seungmin’s mom finds you both and drives you home. While you and Seungmin sit quietly in the back, his mom cheerily thanks you for being his friend, since Seungmin doesn’t have any. Also, she notes that it’s wonderful to finally meet you, because Seungmin can’t stop talking about how smart and cool you are at home

Seungmin is mortified because his mom has exposed him and refuses to look at you, but for the first time, you feel like you don’t hate him

Not even close

When you reach home, Seungmin’s mom makes him get out of the car and walk you to your door. Before your anxiety gets the best of you, you lean forward and kiss him on the cheek, shyly running inside before he can say anything. 

Little do you know that he can’t even think of words right now. He just stands there, frozen, not hearing his mom’s honking above the beat of his heart

Soon, when he musters up the courage to ask you out, you both become official

And you both become study buddies as well, so you finally end up beating Seungmin after learning his tips and tricks. 

P.S. years later, Seungmin jokes that if he never dated you, he still would’ve been first in class. But who knows? Because you guys are made for each other.

7. Jeongin

This story is less about you and more about Jeongin. He’s the main character, not you. 

Duh.

As one of the most popular people in school, Jeongin is used to getting everything he wants. Teachers and students alike adore him for his charisma, looks, and sweet personality

Even though he’s a junior, all the seniors know who he is and would die to hang out with him

One day, surrounded by his big group of friends, as usual, Jeongin is walking down the neighborhood streets to that diner he loves to eat at

And then he notices the most beautiful girl walking into the restaurant right next to his favorite diner, the very establishment that he swore to never eat at and betray his beloved diner

But he’s immediately awestruck and curious to know who you are, and so he walks in right after you, ignoring his friends confused questions as to why he’s literally going into to the rival restaurant of his usual place

As soon as he is inside, he looks for the table you’re sitting at,

He grabs the table right next to yours and rattles off his order to the waitress, still in a daze with his eyes fixated on you

He recognizes your two friends who you are sitting with. They’re both senior girls, which means you must be one too

Oh? ;)

The hot older student? Sign Jeongin up.

He boldly goes up to your booth and asks you out, straight-up, flashing you a cute smile and a daring wink

You and your friends just glance at each other, amused, before you politely let him down

Because you don’t even know him?? Tf??

But your rejection makes him even more infatuated with you, because although he’s an attention-whore, the one thing he loves more is a good challenge

He swaggers back to his table, but not before shooting you a grin that screams “this ain’t over”

And it isn’t over.

Because he spends time learning about what you like through the grapevine, and as one of the school’s most popular kids, he has good access to it.

You love pink carnations, banana ice cream, and surprises. 

And through that wonderful grapevine, he also finds out about what kind of person you are. Funny, kind, and incredibly smart, as one of the toppers in your grade. 

So cute.

At school some time later, after you have almost forgotten about him, he slides in next to you at your lunch table, opening his bag and eating as if everything is normal

You just watch him like??

But you go along with it because you don’t want to be rude. All of your friends love Jeongin (obviously) because he’s so funny and charming

But you just eat your food silently, wondering what this kid is up to

As soon as the school bell rings, you walk out of your classroom and towards your locker, but surprise, surprise, Jeongin is already waiting there. With a bigass bouquet of baby pink carnations.

“Can I be your boyfriend?” 

Jeongin beams at you confidently, but you can see a hint of nervousness behind it. 

And you find the whole cheesy getup very endearing. Still… he’s trouble.

You hide back your smile, shaking your head. 

“I don’t date junior boys.” You walk off, leaving Jeongin hanging once again.

Damn. What a woman.

It’s time for Jeongin to pull out the big guns, because no one has ever made him work for it like you. 

A few nights later, just as you’re about to sit down with your family for dinner, you hear a knock at the door. Your dad offers to get it, so you pay no mind.

But a minute later, your dad walks in with none other than Jeongin, a box of ice cream in his hands

“Your nice friend came over to drop off some dessert. So I invited him to stay for dinner.”

Stunned, you just watch Jeongin drag a chair next to your seat and dig into his food enthusiastically.

As the rest of the evening progresses, your family literally falls in love with Jeongin; he laughs at your father’s horrible dad jokes, listens to all of your mom’s embarrassing childhood stories about you, and engrosses himself in discussion about Fortnite with your little brother

After dessert, you announce that you’ll walk Jeongin out, grabbing him by his arm and pulling him outside onto your porch before he can protest

Once the front door is shut, you glare at Jeongin

“What are you doing here?”

“Dropping off dessert!”

“But why?”

“Because I like you, okay?!”

Jeongin squares his shoulders, looking you in the eye. “Go out with me. You won’t regret dating a junior, I promise.”

What a cliché. 

You roll your eyes, because you’re tired and your feet are cold. Also, you’re not amazing at expressing your emotions. Your heart feels like a damn water slide and you really need a sec.

“Jeongin, go home.”

“You like me too, right? I know how you look at me.”

It’s pretty obvious, you know it too. Ever since his whole stunt with the flowers, you’ve been watching him from afar, your own crush growing on him. But you can’t be with a junior, can you?

“Doesn’t matter. I have homework to do, let’s talk tomorrow.”

“You also like surprises, yes?”

Jeongin steps closer to you, nearly cornering you against the porch pillar. You shove him away.

“Dude, are you trying to kiss me?!”

Jeongin stumbles back. “No!”

He whips out a small velvet box behind his back and opens it, revealing a gorgeous bracelet. “It’s not as pretty as you, but I thought it would look good on you.”

He gently takes your wrist and slips it on, earnestly gazing down at you. “But I would really like to kiss you, if you don’t have too much homework.”

“Screw chemistry.”

You loop your arms around Jeongin’s neck and pull him down, kissing him. 

“Guess I’m the one who surprised you in the end.”

8. Bang Chan

He would 100% be one of those nice popular kids.

He’d have like a million friends and a bunch of wannabes would follow him around too, but he’s so sweet to everyone

Chan is a jock, because he’s athletic and the captain of the soccer team, but he’s also one of those really smart kids too. He gets amazing grades and even plays the guitar, because he’s a sensitive music guy omgggg

Anyway

You have to agree he’s cute, but you’ve always been a little wary of the popular kids. A lot of the people he’s friends with are rude af, but he chills with everyone because no one could ever say anything to him, that’s how well-liked he is.

You have history class together, and you get paired up together. 

He’s super friendly, obviously, and asks if you can meet up with him at the library after school. What else can you say but yes?

So you get to the library, but Chan is nowhere to be seen. 

Fifteen minutes late, he shows up, and you’re really annoyed at this point, but….

He brought you both boba!

Suspiciously, you accept it (it’s delicious) and you’re surprised to find out that Chan actually really knows his stuff

You both finish a good chunk of your work, and a lot of your progress is thanks to Chan’s immaculate planning and organization

You’ve never seen a guy have a binder with color-coded separators and aesthetic notes and stuff, but Chan keeps surprising you

You both meet up two more times to finish the project, and each time, Chan brings you a different flavor of boba. 

And eventually, you warm up to him, and it’s hard not to fall for his endearing, caring personality. He even offered you his hoodie when you got cold because of the library air conditioning!

When you finish your project, you’re sad that it means that you have to stop hanging with Chan, but he actually keeps saying hi to you at school and striking up conversation, even though you get a little shy. 

He moved seats to sit next to you in class too, and comes to the library more often to just sit at your table and do homework in silence with you

One day, you overhear a few of Chan’s friends complaining about him spending more time with some unpopular girl. They start picking on the girl, when you realize the girl they’re making fun is you. 

Immediately, you run off to the bathroom to cry in the stalls’ privacy, because you should have known that being friends with someone like Chan was a bad idea

Although he might not have been a bad person, some of his friends certainly were. That made him a bad guy by association.

A few minutes later, as you’re wiping your tears and stepping out of the bathroom when you crash into Chan, who’s waiting right outside

You try to step around him and leave, but he just hugs you from the back and apologizes by whispering into your ear

His voice is so soothing :(( 

“I’ll make them apologize, and I’m not going to hang out with them anymore, and anyone else who says anything to you.”

And honestly, you’re kind of shocked that he is willing to give up his friends for you

But like he can read your mind, Chan answers for you:

“They don’t matter to me as much as you do.”

He indirectly confesses that he likes you, but you guys actually don’t go into a relationship right away.

You spend a lot more time getting to know each other, personally and on a deeper level.

You learn about his passion for music, and he learns about your own interests. You share your hopes and dreams and fears, until you finally realize how much you both truly mean to each other

After all, Chan is the type of person who would take his time before committing himself to someone

And although when you finally get together, it seems like Chan is always protecting you, it’s actually the other way around:

You teach Chan that it’s okay to be vulnerable, and that you’ll always love him no matter what. 

More than anything, you’re proud of Chan and the person he is. Always.

TAGLIST @hamburgers101 @chansburgah @ajxreads @hash2013 @pixigreen @ana-marais98 @ohish @chizumiyoshi @lilydaisyyy @jetblackbelle @yeahhspider @army-stay-noel @143hyunes

Network: @kflixnet

#stray kids x reader #skz headcanons #kflixnet #k-labels #straykidsland #stray kids #skz #skz soft hours #skz fire #soft hours #softthoughts #angst #fluff #skz fluff #imagines #scenarios #skz fic #ot8 x reader #skz scenarios #stray kids fic #stray kids fluff #stray kids headcanons #stray kids softhours #jisungsdaydreamer #kpop fics #seungmin imagines #changbin imagines #lee know imagines #felix imagines #hyunjin imagines

[ivystoryweaver]

(Everybody's Waiting for) The Man With the Bag

This is your 2nd place poll winner, losing to Moon Dads/Hanukkah by only 9 votes!

Summary: Miguel wants to bring a little Christmas cheer to some kids who need it most

Word Count: 1050

Content: holiday/family angst with a bit of comfort, fluff-adjacent, longing, mentions of loss/death, (nothing you didn't see in the film), not beta'd.

The spider society was quiet.

As quiet as it ever got, anyway.

There were always lives to save - timelines to correct or salvage.

But it was Christmas.

Practically every timeline had some version of the holiday, and even now - after so much loss...after Miguel felt the weight of the universe pulling him apart like a thousand spiderwebs - he still remembered Christmas with is little girl.

Gabriella loved Christmas.

What child wouldn't love a pile of presents, too much sugar and staying up late? The troll of Christmas carols, hot cocoa, magical movies and twinkling lights...

But what Gab loved most was Santa Claus. Miguel assumed it was because he gave her presents, but she surprised him one Christmas Eve. She climbed up in his lap, ready to read The Night Before Christmas before being tucked into bed to wait for ol' St. Nick and said, "Daddy, I think Santa Claus is the best person in the whole world."

Miguel chuckled warmly, admiring how her chubby fingers traced the beautifully illustrated picture of the classic figure. "Why, because he brings you a bunch of stuff?"

"No," she softly replied, pointing to the huge bag he had flung over his back. "Because he gives so much away. Don't you think we should all be like that?"

Miguel's heart melted as he squeezed his daughter close. "Yeah, Gabs. We should."

Then he proved to be the complete opposite of Gabriella's hero, destroying her entire timeline.

Since then, Miguel made it his life's mission to not...overstep.

But it was Christmas.

This timeline's Gabriella lived in one of the poorest neighborhoods he'd ever seen. Miguel told himself not to get involved - he certainly knew better than to interfere directly with her life. He'd never learned a harder lesson.

But surely, it couldn't hurt to leave a Christmas present behind - a treasure that could simply be credited to Santa Claus.

Miguel got to work, collecting toys and locating a Santa suit to fit his impossibly large fame, since making himself an unstable molecule Santa suit seemed a tad excessive. At any rate, He was going to bring Christmas to this neighborhood.

This was, of course, after dozens of calculations between himself and Lyla, to make sure delivering a toy fire truck wouldn't obliterate a universe.

Miguel walked through a portal, discreetly, into Gabriella's low income neighborhood, late Christmas Eve, donned in head-to-toe red and white, with a pack of toys flung over his back.

He didn't quite have Santa's tummy, but hopefully a little padding would do the trick, should he be spotted.

His spider abilities made it pretty simple to dart in and out of houses undetected. He even sampled a cookie or two.

The he came to Gabriella's house. He saved her house for last, trying to work up the courage to be in her presence but not interact with her in any way.

The house was tiny and old, but clean. The cold, hard floors had been swept and the tables wiped recently. Dishes were handwashed and piled on the counter to dry. A plate of homemade cookies peeked out from their plastic wrap. There was love here.

The Christmas tree was more of an old, ragged bush, with glass ornaments with chipped paint and a few handmade offerings of popsicle sticks and pipe cleaners. A string of popcorn served as garland. No twinkling lights illuminated the darkness.

And the whole place was freezing.

Miguel pressed his lips together, squeezing his eyes shut, willing himself not to interfere any more than he was about to. Reaching into his bag, he produced a copy of The Night Before Christmas, a warm winter blanket, a matching hat, scarf and gloves, and a soccer ball.

He set each item under the Charlie-Brown-worthy tree - the only gifts present, making sure they would be plainly visible to whoever woke first.

His eyes landed on a snapshot of Gabriella with her mother, and just when he thought he tempted fate enough for one evening, he heard a sharp intake of breath behind him.

"Ohhh, wow, Santa," the voice of Gabriella O'Hara made his heart completely stop.

Miguel squeezed his white gloved hands into fists, willing himself to not turn around and lay eyes on her, just one more time.

It wasn't her. She wasn't his - she never had been.

He could hear her sock covered feet shuffle closer. "I-is that you, Santa? Is it really you?"

Miguel cleared his throat, deepening his voice purposely. "Merry Christmas. You caught Santa just finishing up."

He heard her gasp, her giggle like a tinkling bell. "Oh, Santa, thank you so much. Thank you, thank you!"

"You're welcome," he choked out. "Now, be a good girl and get back to sleep. Santa has a lot of presents to deliver."

"Okay," she breathlessly answered. "My friends told me you weren't real, but I just knew you were. I knew it."

The sound of her voice drifted closer. She stood directly behind him now. He had to get out of here.

"You're absolutely right. Back to bed now. Merry Christmas, Gabs."

She sucked in a breath, but didn't speak or move for several agonizing moments.

"Merry Christmas, Santa," she finally decided. And he heard the old, hard floor creak as she retreated.

But she paused one more time. "I think I know now," she declared from across the room. "You must be an angel. You sound just like my dad."

One tear slid down Miguel's cheek, soaked up by the cotton of his fake beard.

"Your dad is very proud of you," He choked out, gathering his bag, making sure he kept his back turned so she wouldn't see his face.

"Thank you, Santa. Or...whoever you are," she whispered, finally retreating to her room.

Miguel raggedly exhaled, tears burning his eyes as he left the house and made his way back through a multi-dimensional portal.

His Christmas Day would be spent not watching Gabriella wake up her mother, unwrap her presents, or maybe, talk about the Santa Claus who'd left them for her.

No, he was done intervening. A few simple gifts to help keep her warm - to bring a little cheer - it was enough for her.

And hearing her voice one more time was the best present he could have ever hoped for.

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