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#on the subject of thinking does everyone have to like try to hear a voice in their head or is that normal
emerdoodls · 5 months
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does anyone else with aphantasia ever say "i always pictured..." then realize you never pictured that bc you don't ever picture anything and you also thought that picture this was a metaphor so you don't say it in a literal way but everyone else will take it literally and ask you what you mean bc "don't you not get the pictures in your head??"
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tunafruitt · 4 months
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--> ||❝ The Creator has a.. LOVER?! ❞
SAGAU || Warnings: fluff, gender neutral reader, slight crack, reader gets called a test subject and is implied to be used as one [Dottore’s part] OOC w/ Dottore..? Idk I haven’t finished sumeru yet </3
[ The people of Teyvat find out their grace has been romantically involved with someone for a while now.. what do they think about it? ]
Character(s): DOTTORE, XIAO
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-> [ DOTTORE ]
“The Doctor is the Creator’s suitor? As in… the Second of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers? Are you sure that’s him? You are? Oh.. is— Is Your Grace feeling okay? I don’t see why anyone would be willingly involved with the Fatui Harbingers. What?! No! I’m not saying that’s not okay. Your Grace can do whatever they want! Hmph..”
The people of Teyvat felt conflicted to say the least. They weren’t judging your ability to make choices! They really weren’t… they just thought that there were better choices out there for Their Grace!! Yeah, everyone knew you liked the harbingers even before you descended, but couldn’t you have chosen a less deranged harbinger? For example… uhm... none of them.
Dottore could really care less what everyone else thought of his relationship with you though. He got the full package! His lover was the All Mighty Creator, and now he has a new “test subject”! (he says it affectionately.) Dottore knows people hate him even more than before, but who’s the one with the Creator’s arms wrapped around them, head over heels? This benefits him in so many ways. Wether it be research, obtaining materials, or just being able to have something more to use against the rest of the harbingers.
No one would ever dare voice the opinions they have of him while you’re in the vicinity. They’ll listen to you talk about a “date” you had with Dottore, which was really just you and him in his lab…. and he’s using you to help with his research. Hearing this, the rest of the allogene’s eyes are twitching, their fists are clenched, they’re FURIOUS. Not at you! Never. They’re mad at Dottore. How dare he use you as a test subject?! (you volunteered) How dare he use you to try to make another god?! (you thought that sounded fun) How dare he be IN LOVE with the All Mighty Creator?! (you fell first.)
When the two of you are seen in public, the streets go QUIET. Dottore carries this eerie aura with him, everyone knows who he is. And adding to the fact he’s a harbinger, he is also now recognized as the Creator’s suitor. Everyone besides you feels the silence and the stares, including Dottore, but if his lover is happy does it really matter? <3
In conclusion, everyone hopes Dottore dies. It’s not that they don’t want to see you happy. In fact, the entirety of Teyvat is glad you’re experiencing love and joy, just not with HIM.
─ִ━━ ꯭  ───ׂ─ִ─  ͜͡✿͜͡  ─ִ──ׂ──  ꯭  ━━ִ─
You spend a lot of days in Dottore’s lab. Today was one of those days.
You were conversing with one of Dottore’s younger clones. The clones, while being segments of Dottore, have their own distinct personalities. The one thing they hold in common is the love they have for you.
You love talking to the clones and giving them breaks from whatever days-long tasks Dottore gives them, but you miss the Dottore who’s the last thing you see before you fall asleep and after you wake up. You haven’t seen him since yesterday! Is this really how your boyfriend treats his lover…. who also happens to be the Creator???
And so you decide to go look for him. Who would’ve guessed he was sitting where he always was; his desk. Once you’ve spotted him, as payback for leaving you alone, you decide to sneak up on him. You try your hardest to silence your steps as much as possible in this hollow and echoey office of his.
“I can hear you, Y/N.”
“No you can’t... C’mon Dottore! Cut me some slack. I haven’t seen you since yesterday… and you didn’t even come to say good morning to me today!”
“Good morning.”
“It’s 4:00 PM, love. Take a break. It’s not like I’ll die anytime soon… can I even die..? Uhm.. that’s besides the point. You can conduct your experiments on me and do you research later. Come entertain me, please?”
“Are you asking because I have a choice?”
Your silence gives him an answer. You pull him up from his chair by grabbing his hands and pull him into a hug. You lean in closer to peck his cheek. He leans into you and grabs you by the waist to pull you closer—
“Doctor, the segments have finished—“
“Oh.”
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-> [ XIAO ]
“Oh! One of the adepti? THE VIGILANT YAKSHA?! S-sorry that caught me by surprise… So the Yaksha is dating the Creator, huh. His tales have been documented for millennia’s, yet he’s rarely seen in public… I guess even someone like that can’t help but fall for Our Grace.”
So that must be why you always cooked Almond Tofu… Well, since Xiao IS the Conqueror of Demons, I can see the people of Liyue being quite happy. Jealous? Yes. But who’s even more jealous? Mondstadt. Why couldn’t it be one of the Knights of Favonious or something? But they guess you’re happy and that’s enough… (Though it could’ve been with them.)
Xiao is seen a little more often with you now that it’s confirmed you two are dating. Not too often, but if you want to go try out a restaurant in the city of Liyue, he’ll never say no. He may not speak much, but according to rumors is Liyue… “his eyes are always on you, listening to anything and everything the Creator has to say. It’s clear he’s fallen completely in love!” (Said by Chef Mao, probably.)
Being Xiao’s partner may seem awkward from an outsiders perspective, but he’s surprisingly sweet! He still won’t talk much, but he’ll reply to any questions you have, no matter how stupid or obvious they are with full genuity. Him being the Conqueror of Demons and you being the Creator, you both live busy lives…. so his eyes literally light up when you two are both able to finally see each other after a long time. <3 (he’s head over heels guys help.)
The adepti would be so PROUD. They probably already knew you and Xiao had a little something going on even before it was announced because of the way Xiao seemed slightly more happy. This lead to then being suspicious and eventually seeing him and you together… doing the most intimate thing ever…..
…. HOLDING HANDS. UNDER THE MOONLIGHT. But they kept quiet so don’t worry!
─ִ━━ ꯭  ───ׂ─ִ─  ͜͡✿͜͡  ─ִ──ׂ──  ꯭  ━━ִ─
“Xiao! I found you.”
As per usual, Xiao was sitting on the roof of Wangshu Inn. Today was one of the days where both of you were busy. You had a meeting to attend, and he was doing his job as The Conqueror of Demons. It was night by the time you were able to see each other.
“You should’ve called my name, Your Grace. It would’ve been easier for me to find you.”
“Yeah but I like looking for you. I always know where you are since you’re in the same spots anyway. And besides, I like how Wangshu Inn looks at night!”
You always thought Xiao looked pretty, but he looked especially pretty under the moonlight. His face seemed to glow more than usual today. Maybe it was the warm colored light radiating from inside of Wangshu Inn, or the light reflected by the moon shining down on him. Maybe it was the fact he had missed you so much that seeing your face again brought him a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Your Grace?”
“Oh, sorry Xiao, I lost my train of thought. Let’s go eat! I’m feeling hungry… today’s meeting was waaayy too long… C’mon, I’ll buy you something!”
“No need. I’ll be okay with just accompanying Your Grace.”
“Agh, stop calling me that. Y/N? Can you say Y/N? Please Xiao?”
“… Y-Y/N..”
“See? Not too hard right? Ok let’s go eat! I’ll make you Almond Tofu how you like it.”
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FINALLY DONE OOHMYGODDD sorry this took so long. Idk what I should do next so feel free to request anything… ANYWAYS THE FIRST PART OF THIS GOT ALMOST 700 NOTES??? omg stop guys I’m giggling and blushing aughshsgghh. But seriously thank you so much I’m bawling
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jeonghantis · 11 months
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✧ — HEAVEN ANGEL (y.jh)
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PAIRING ⇝ yoon jeonghan x reader.
SUMMARY ⇝
beautiful, everyone had called you. the compliment lost its charm on you, knowing fully well it’s paid only for the surface-level appearance you kept up and nothing else you had to offer. irritating, he had called you. you let him fuck you.
TAGS ⇝ uni!au, fratboy!jeonghan, fwb, smut, a dash of angst (oopsy!).
WARNINGS ⇝ language, fem!reader (she/her), houseparty scene (not exactly detailed), gossip, explicit sexual content (MINORS DNI!), bathroom (mirror) sex, unrequited crush (or is it?), reader has commitment issues, reader is kinda mean, mentions of p*ss and sh*t but not in a sexual manner, just for jokes.
WORD COUNT ⇝ 4.1k words.
note: funnily enough, i had two requests specifically for house party sex with yoon jeonghan. i lost the ask for them both (accidentally deleted while my laptop glitched). i am insane. and before anyone asks, yes there'll be a part two/prequel :) and also this is somewhat connected to my upcoming cheol fic. so i hope you stay tuned! proofread by the star of my life @cheolhub. sar fr put up with every version and my constant anxiety over every paragraph. i couldn't have done it without them. i love u so much. @szakias was also helpful in keeping me sane as i wrote this out 🙇 i love u so bad. loosely based on the song heaven angel by the driver era. don't think it'd go with the fic but you know :)
reblogs & comments are very much appreciated.
explicit tags under the cut.
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EXPLICIT TAGS ⇝ semi-public setting (bathroom sex while there's a party), unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, mean dom!jeonghan, sub!reader, dumbification, teasing, petnames (angel), degradation (whore, bitch), dacryphilia, marking, briefest thigh-fucking, clit stimulation, cumming inside, squirting, light overstimulation, (a little) aftercare.
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A strange rumor went around the campus. A rumor of a person whose beauty was so out of this world that it was terrifying. 
Unreal. Everyone had said. You won’t be able to look her in the eyes! 
But beyond that angelic beauty was a personality so sour, no one dared thought to approach her. Those that tried their luck had it beaten right out of them and they came to hate her to hide their broken hearts.
What a bitch, they had said. Does she think she’s all that?
Yoon Jeonghan, for one, thought they were being overly dramatic. It was a strange and interesting phenomenon how gossip can evolve to add in such theatrics. It was like living in one of those regency novels his sister owned which he had perused over on one particularly boring day. Had these people really had nothing better to do with their lives? Were they trying to live in a novel of their own? Jeonghan never understood them, neither cared for these kinds of things. He’d much rather form his opinions. He had better things to do than to dabble in such frivolity. 
What a stuck-up, one would say. What better things could Jeonghan be doing that puts him above everyone else? 
Oh, fucking the subject of the rumors of course. 
“How irritating,” Jeonghan sighed, abruptly ceasing his thrusts inside you to harshly yank you back by your hair. 
You yelp, a deer in the headlights, when your neck is forcibly craned back, made to look up at his looming figure. You looked pathetic from where you were pinned against the wall, exposed breasts pressed flush against the cool tiles and your mini skirt flipped upwards to reveal the swell of your bare ass flattened against his hip bone.
“I said to keep your voice down,” he tuts. “Do you want the whole house to hear you?” 
“I’m s-sorry,” you stammer out, throat raw and chest heaving. 
“Are you?” He mused with a raised brow, mocking and unbelieving. 
You couldn’t meet his gaze, or at least you tried to. Jeonghan liked to make eye contact, he once told you, for he loved to see your sanity visibly ebb away from your eyes, leaving you a mindless, glassy-eyed whore. You had not reached that stage, not yet, not when some semblance of your being remained clear in your gaze, dilated pupils fearfully wavering back and forth between his simpering face and the bathroom door where a rather large, booming frat party laid beyond.
He cocked his head to the side and tightened his grip on your hair, forcing your eyes back on him. He leaned forward until he’s breathing your air, and all you could do is stare up at him pitifully with quivering lips. “Or…” he starts, his lips twisting cruelly. “Do you want them to hear you? Want them hear how good you’re being fucked right now?”
You remain silent, the lump on your throat bobbing as you swallow hard. But your walls tighten around him and Jeonghan couldn’t help the curve of his lips.
“You’re really weird, you know that?” Jeonghan sighed, releasing his hold on you. A lithe finger curls a lock behind your ear, the gesture jarringly affectionate from his prior cruelty, before his mouth moves to hover over it, his warm breath tickling. “You moan loudly when I tell you to shut up. You shut up when I ask you questions. Have I fucked you stupid already? Or have you always been stupid?”
You let out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.”
“Is that all you know what to say?” Jeonghan laughs. “A renowned bitch, known to reject her admirers without so much of a second thought, now reduced into this pathetic bitch in heat. What would everyone else think, hm?”
His derogatory spats clamored down to your bones, making you shake with emotions that you couldn’t quite place with your hazed mind. At one point, with the last bit of pride you had left, you’re irritated, and it’s shown in the twitch of your eye and narrowed gaze. Then there’s embarrassment, shown by how your face warms and flushes. There was no denying how fucking dazed and desperate you had been, that much was true, and the demeaning tone of his voice did its job of filling you with shame. The twisted part of it all is that you enjoyed every minute of this ridicule thanks to pure, carnal desire. You couldn’t care less about what other people would say about you, what matters now is when the fuck would Jeonghan move his dick inside you. 
But Jeonghan being Jeonghan, he wanted his answers. His last question was rhetoric. You knew. He knew. And yet he looks down at you with cruel expectancy masked in the sweetest, angelic smile that has fooled so many, and had once fooled you. 
“I-I don’t care,” you say, deciding to be honest. “Who the fuck cares what they think?”
“Oh, but I’d like to know,” Jeonghan said. He hums for a moment, looking you over in consideration, before speaking again. “But you’re right. They don’t matter right now, do they?” 
You release a breath you hadn’t known you were holding.
And Jeonghan watched, amused. He wasn’t done speaking. “But I’d at least like to know what you think.”
You blinked. “What?”
Before you could question him some more, Jeonghan pulls out of you, leaving your weeping cunt fluttering around nothing. You cry out, high and broken, from having pleasure ripped away with such cruelty. Jeonghan ignores it and his own throbbing problem as he goes to peel you off the wall with a rough tug on your arm. He has you by over the sink, has you staring at yourself through the vanity mirror. Jeonghan casts a smile at you through the reflection, his gaze weighted as he drinks in the sight of you as well.
Jeonghan had to admit, the rumors weren’t all baseless. You were stunningly beautiful, there was no denying that when anyone with functioning eyes could see it. The way you carried yourself tells him you’re well aware of it too. You held confidence with a raised chin, an allure with your own posture and stance even in this vulnerable position you were forced in, looking as disheveled as you are with tufts of your hair sticking out in every direction, framing your flushed face. Your blouse had been carefully unbuttoned despite how desperately urgent you both had been for each other the moment the bathroom door shut closed, but the rush was evident in how your bralette had been roughly tugged down enough for your perked breasts to spill over. Jeonghan had been anything but kind to your skin, having left angry red splotches blossoming all over your chest; you weren’t either on his, knowing if Jeonghan had craned his neck enough from behind you, they’d find similar markings on his throat, though considerably less in quantity.
Jeonghan also looked considerably less damning. He had not made moves to remove any of his upper clothing and so he remained presentable with his black varsity over a loose white shirt. Even his long hair had not looked loosened from where it’s tied up. But below, away from the mirror’s sight, his dark jeans had been unbuttoned and unzipped for his curved dick to spring out freely, for it now to rub over your ass teasingly.
“So?” Jeonghan asks. “What do you think of yourself?”
You glare at him through the mirror. “Fucking awful.”
“Of course you’d see it that way,” he laughs, resting his chin on your shoulder. “For me, I think this is the most beautiful you’ve ever been.”
It’s your turn to look unbelieving, but your pulse rouses. 
Jeonghan grinned. “Ask me why.”
You reluctantly indulge him, “Why?”
“Because you finally look fucking awful,” Jeonghan said cheerfully. You turn to glower at him but stop when he lifts a hand to trace a line over your chest, mapping out the marks adorning you with a nimble finger. “And because I’m the reason for it.”
“A little vain, don’t you think?” You remark, albeit breathily, your face heated.
“I can be proud of my work,” he quipped, pressing his smile against your skin. He looks you over once more, taking in every detail down to the last freckle, and something deep in him thrums sweetly. “And I had a beautiful canvas to begin with.”
“How charming,” you sighed, derisive, as you threw your head back against his shoulder so you could look at him with batting lashes. “Can you fuck me now?”
“But I mean it,” Jeonghan murmured and relented, reaching around you so he could press a roughened finger over your swollen clit.
 “Mean what?” You ask, but you’re barely listening, not when your focus is narrowed to the deft circles he’s making on your sweet nerves.
Jeonghan guides his length between your thighs, letting it glide languidly right under your weeping and throbbing cunt at a lazy pace. His lips are still curled, his eyes bright when he gazes down at you before he’s responding, “You’re absolutely beautiful.”
Sincerity was not something you’re used to when it came to the ever sarcastic Yoon Jeonghan, and yet here it was, bleeding into his tone in its purest form. Never in the entire three months of sleeping with him had he ever complimented the way he had just now, and if he had uttered any, it was quickly followed with ridicule or said with ridicule.
Good, he called you when you were obedient.
Cute, he called you when you were crying.
Beautiful. It was new. From him at least. 
It was a temporary moment of clarity in your lust-addled head as you blink at him, making sense of what he had said, making sense of the warmth that starts to bloom throughout your chest. And temporary it remained as Jeonghan led his cockhead right back to your entrance, pushing himself in without so much of a warning, and the bare grasp you had on lucidity loosened.
You gasp out loudly, doubling over the bathroom counter as your walls tense and quiver painfully from the sudden breach, but still yield around him nonetheless. Jeonghan was quick to catch you, to force you right back up with his long fingers encircling your throat. 
“Again?” Jeonghan barked out a laugh but it’s hoarse. “You really want everyone to hear you.”
“I c-can’t help it,” you whined, your head resting weakly against his shoulder, warm breath puffing over his marred skin. 
Jeonghan looked unimpressed. “Well, help it.”
“Oh, fuck!” you cry out when he starts driving into you with no sense of leniency, your body thrown fully forward and voice shaking from the repeated impact that clatters your bones.
“You’re horrible at this,” he cackled. He grips at your hips this time, pulling you hard against him, balls slapping heavily against your ass. He's practically pulling and pushing your cunt onto his cock as if you weighed nothing, as if you were nothing but a cocksleeve for him to enjoy. Each decadent slide of his length in your heat draws out breathy grunts from him, his head drunk with pleasure.
You weren’t faring any better. Your head is thrown back to reveal flushed skin stained with tears that drip from closed eyes as you try desperately to hold yourself up with palms flat against the cold marble counter. There was nothing else for you to do but feel it, feel his cock stretch your pussy, its silken insides practically making way for him with each piston that has you crying out more in volume and pitch.
“Open your eyes.” His hot, staggered breath wafted over your ear. His thrusts ease its pace, slowing into something more languorous and teasing. “Open your eyes and look at me.”
You whine but your eyelids flutter open. Glassy, unfocused eyes find Jeonghan.
A devious smile splinters across his face. 
There you are.
“Please,” you whimper, your hand reaching to paw at his nape. 
“What is it, angel?” His tone is sweet but it rolls off his tongue sharply. “I n-need - ”
Jeonghan laughed cruelly. “I don’t think you’re in the position to demand something from me when you can’t even listen to my one demand.”
You grab at the ends of his hair and rock your hips back into him, fucking your cunt right on his dick in a faster, but struggling, rhythm. 
“Hannie,” you mewl. “You feel too good. Please, please, just fuck me. I can’t help it, I just - Please? I’ll b-be good. Just please fuck me, Hannie.”
Jeonghan doesn’t respond right away to your pleas, allowing himself to revel in the broken desperation you display with an amused smile and delighted throbs made inside your velvety walls. Perhaps Jeonghan should be used to this sight now. He’s seen you in much messier and miserable states, ruined you far worse than he had now. And yet he’s plenty invigorated than he’s ever been, pure excitement searing his veins.
What would everyone else think, hm?
Jeonghan thought it was rhetoric. Jeonghan said it didn’t matter. 
It wasn’t. It did. 
“I don’t think you can be good,” he began as a hand inches forward between your legs, “But if you’re going to be loud, then at least use my name. That way, everyone will know who’s fucking you so good.”
“H-Hannie!” You mewl, oh so pitchy, as your frame jerks from the brush of the roughened pads of his fingers on your clit, pleasure flickering up your abdomen so wildly that you could not easily bear through it. 
“There we go,” he crooned, pride gleaming in his eyes. Jeonghan was much too familiar with your body by now, so it’s easy when his hips brings back its pace, fucking at your insides at an angle so the length of him glides over your sweet nerves with each impact. 
“Yes, yes, yes,” you sob out like a mantra, spreading your legs a little wider to accommodate his brutality, your channel tightening around his throbbing girth. “Ngh, Jeonghan, right there! Oh my god - !”
The nectar that leaks out of you coated his shaft with an amazingly significant amount that makes the slides so much easier and louder, the wet noises bouncing off the four walls and meshing with your own cries of his name like he wanted. It was almost enough to drown out the muffled music of the party that seemed many worlds away now.
Jeonghan soon enough joined in this sinful chorus, letting out panted moans of his own. Some were incoherent but when it wasn’t, it was mostly your name, just in case everyone couldn’t tell who was screaming his name like a wailing prayer. How he’s managed to keep himself restrained and sane for this long was a strong feat in itself. Your everything put him in a trance, every touch of you—nails, fingers, and obviously your tight cunt, was a little too much, it was dizzying. 
Even at your seemingly waning state, your hips somehow finds itself moving back against him, undulating with the same force and rhythm. You’re driven by the tightness both in your chest and in your abdomen, white flashing across your vision the more you keep up your pace, your moan becoming more muddled as your thoughts were. And when balance fails you, having you bow back down and lean all your weight on your forearm, Jeonghan inclines with you, his chest pressed right against your back and you could feel his raging heartbeat that very well matched your own.
“How are you holding up, angel?” He chuckled and pressed his face against your neck, his breathing hard and warm on your skin, as his thrusts become more shallow. “Doing okay?”
“I-I’m close,” you whimper. “Please, Hannie - ”
“I’ve got you,” he whispered back as nails dig crescents on your waist, muscles flexing as the intensity of his strokes inside you extends once again and remains at the same tempo. He doesn’t know what came over him the next moment, his senses just completely overtaken and all he could do was be at awe at all this perfect bliss you’re bringing him, and only him. “You’re mine tonight,” he breathed. “I’m going to fucking ruin you for everyone, angel, you understand that? You’re mine.”
There it was again. The clarity. The warmth. It all happened in a single moment.
You turn your head and stare up at him. Jeonghan stared right back at you. A completely indecipherable expression confronts another.  
Where it had been temporary then, it intensified now. Where there had been questions, suspicions took its place. 
Then came fear.
Jeonghan catches a glimpse of it in your eyes and for the very first time, his stomach sank at the sight of it. 
But his facade is flawless. It comes too naturally before he’s fully aware—a sweet curl of lip, the faintest crinkle at the corners of his eyes. He’s fooled too many. He could fool you again. 
Jeonghan takes advantage of your moment of daze to toy once again with your clit, and is relieved at how immediate your body reacts. 
“Ngh, J-Jeonghan!” You keen high as you reach a hand to cup over to where his fingers flicks and pinches at the delicate bud, pressing down on him for added pressure to alleviate your own self. Oh, how embarrassingly easy it was for your thoughts to be completely overwritten by your own lustful desires, but as you have learned, it always prevails, doesn’t it? 
Your thighs seize up from the overwhelming pleasure crawling up your spine; while your rhythm falters from it, Jeonghan’s is relentless even when his own breathing turned ragged and his body strained from the effort. It all becomes so much so fast; the feverish heat spreads under your skin, tightening up coils in your abdomen, but your frame is trembling, as if a chill settled so deeply into your bones. 
“Hannie, Hannie, I’m going to -”
“I know,” Jeonghan grunts as his face falls in the juncture of your neck, lips pressed right over your pulse point. He can feel your walls start to restrict around his twitching girth, and it did little to aid his own self-control. “Let go for me, angel. C’mon. Let me hear you. Let them hear you.”
And you do. With the most shrilling wail, you come, your warm release spilling onto his cock and, much to your surprise, squirting onto themselves, their clothes, and his hand. 
“Holy shit,” Jeonghan marveled under his breath. If he could burn a memory into his brain, this would be fucking it. Just you shivering and quivering around his dick. Your back prettily arched back with tits hardened and perked. The fluids spurting all over yourself and him so shamelessly and so intensely until you're convulsing back down on your front from it all. 
Watching this whole brilliance of you, just reminded Jeonghan of how lucky he truly was to have you like this, to be able to make you this fucked out with crossed eyes, pupils blown wide out of proportion. Hidden concerns were washed away by this single glance, replaced with nothing but gratitude, pride, and true bliss. And with all that and a poorly thrown out warning, he’s thrown over the edge. A moan is punched out of his gut as he’s releasing inside you with one last valiant thrust, his cum white and hot as it spurts and paints your walls.
And poor you having to tolerate this continued abuse of your insides that pushes you close into the sphere of overstimulation. You’re spent, fatigue already ebbing into your consciousness, but you stay still for him, letting him use you for all your worth until the last few twitches of cock, until the last few spews of his cum is fucked back into you.
For the next few moments, only a dulled bass fills the air as two heaving bodies try to steady themselves. When the remnants of carnality wane, Jeonghan finally pulls out of you, your channel left with nothing but their shared release dripping out of you, beading down your legs. There’s a crack of a smile thrown your way through the reflection just as you feel a light tap made over your cunt. You resist the urge to roll your eyes at the gesture. And to rock back into it.
“If I clean you up,” Jeonghan began, eyeing the puddle on the floor, “could you help me with the rest of your mess?”
Now you did roll your eyes. “Ever the gentleman.”
“Hey, I just thought I should ask. It’s a lot.” 
Your face warmed up. “Forget it, I’ll clean myself up. You clean the floor.” You move to lift yourself up from the counter, but catch yourself as your muscles start to strain, limbs shaking. 
Jeonghan raised a brow.
You winced. “Can you help me over to the toilet?”
 “Need to piss it all out again?” He jests and takes a hold of your arm to gently pick you up. 
You sneered. “That wasn’t piss, asshat.”
Jeonghan laughed. “I know it wasn’t. But it was hot as hell.”
“Shut the hell up.”
That only made him laugh again.
Then came a knock, a very aggressive one.
“Yoon Jeonghan, are you done fucking in there?” Said a male voice beyond the door, sounding just as irritated as his knock was. 
“Ah, damn,” Jeonghan muttered quietly to himself, then raised his voice at the door, “There are other bathrooms, Cheol!”
Choi Seungcheol, you now recognized Jeonghan’s fellow frat brother, responded right away. “All occupied! Can you hurry your shit up?”
“No!” said Jeonghan, but he’s quick to guide you over next to the toilet with an arm now encircling your waist; you tell yourself this was just a helpful gesture, but there’s no helping how your skin heats up under his touch. From where you stand leaning against the wall, you watch him rush around the bathroom, first cleaning himself up and shoving his dick back in his jeans before he throws a clean towel down on the floor to soak up your mess.
“I’ll leave first,” Jeonghan explained as he sauntered back to you with soap and another fresh towel in hand, setting them down where it’s within your reach. “I’ll appease Cheol first and buy you some time to clean up.”
“Is he always so impatient?” You asked.
“Always,” he sighed, “but once I explain, he’ll understand. I don’t know why he’s fussier than usual though.” 
“Maybe he needs to shit.”
“Shitting at a party? That’s disgusting of him.”
“He has no respect for the partygoers out there.”
You exchange grins with each other. 
Then another round of knocking came around.
“In a minute!” Jeonghan called back, trying to sound calm but his face was scowling. He lowers his voice when he speaks to you again, “Are you sure you don’t want any help? Now I just want to make him wait.”
“Go,” you tell him and wave him off. “He sounds like he’s about to kick the door open. I’d rather not have that.”
Jeonghan huffed a laugh at that. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”
Jeonghan turned to leave. Your heart lurched from your chest.
“Jeonghan?” You call out before you could stop yourself.
He looked back. “Hm?”
“Do we…” You didn’t know what to say, how to phrase it. “Should we talk about it?”
It was miniscule, but you caught his wince. “Talk about what?”
“About what you said?”
“Angel, I said a lot of things.”
“Don’t play stupid with me. You said - ”
Another loud knock, quickly followed by Seungcheol yelling. “Jeonghan! Hurry up!”
Jeonghan let out another sigh, a mix of annoyance with a tinge of relief. “We’ll have to talk about it another time.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Jeonghan - ”
“We will talk about it,” he said firmly, his tone spoke of sincerity, but his face said otherwise. “Just not now. Not yet.” 
You gave him a skeptical look. 
He tried for a smile, perfectly saccharine. You saw right through it.
“Fine,” you relented.
Jeonghan gave you a grateful nod of his head and made a move to leave again. You watch again with the strangest restriction in your chest.
“Cheol, you have got to learn patience,” Jeonghan said once he cracked the door open.
“And you have got to learn to be quiet,” the disembodied voice of Seungcheol parried back. “I’m sure the people passing the hallway could hear you both.”
“Well, we were trying to get the whole house to hear us.” Jeonghan spared a quick glance your way and grinned. You wanted to punch his teeth in.
Seungcheol groaned. “Of course you fucking were.”
Jeonghan laughed and finally stepped out of the bathroom. “At least I’m getting my dick wet. You haven’t been with anyone since - Oh, I spoke too soon. Cheol, you sneaky son of a - ”
The door shut closed behind him, leaving you all alone, and you buried your face in your hands.
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© jeonghantis. all rights reserved. do not re-publish, translate, plagiarise, edit any of my work on any other platform.
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starvity · 9 months
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— ☆ sides zb1 only show when they’re with you
gn!reader x zb1 (ot9)
genre: fluff, drabble // warnings: insecurities, jealousy, a bit angsty for gyuv and yujin
author’s note: this was such an interesting request and i had so much fun thinking about what to put for each member!! (★ω★)/ [requested♡]
ੈ✩‧₊˚ jiwoong - his funny side
okay i’m not saying jiwoong isn’t funny usually but he would be the FUNNIEST when he’s with you. he's most of the time someone kind of serious and reserved in public settings but then he would suddenly whisper a funny comment (that only you heard) and you would have to fight internally to not burst out laughing. some other time, you’re just getting ready to sleep, already cuddled up in the blanket while waiting for jiwoong, when his silly side would appear. like he would be brushing his teeth then he would start running around and doing some handstands on you idk???? he’s just a silly guy
ੈ✩‧₊˚ zhang hao - his protective side
hao loves himself a good princess treatment. he would always use his puppy eyes to get whatever he wants from you and you both know it, that you can never win. and that dynamic works for your relationship!! but then sometimes you appear in front of hao looking a bit more tired, stressed, or sick than usual and it’s like something switches in his brain. he will treat you like absolute royalty, that being by doing the chores, giving you a massage, cooking for you, cuddling with you? ANYTHING YOU WANT!!! that always happens when you’re away from him too, walking home or coming back late from a party. he will come pick you up whenever he can or at least ask you to facetime him.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ hanbin - his jealous side
i am certain that not a single person on this planet can dislike this man. he is loved by everyone and everyone knows him. when you two go out on a date he would usually be the one to meet like 5 of his friends on the way. but today it was your turn to randomly meet one of your old high school friends in a store. naturally, they come to hug you and keep an arm around your waist while you two catch up on each other’s life. suddenly, you feel hanbin’s arm slide around your shoulders as he pulls you closer. "i’m their boyfriend, by the way." he says, with a smirk on his face and his eyes turning dark.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ matthew - his insecure side
matthew is your biggest fan. he will always hype you up, telling you that you’re the most beautiful and amazing person he’s ever met. he will brag about you to his friends and talk about you to his family all the time. but when you do the same for him, he immediately gets shy, saying that it isn’t true and that you’re doing too much. you frown, repeating that he’s just perfect and he shakes his head again. you cup his jaw with your hands to make him look at you. "you.are.amazing.matt." you repeat, kissing his lips between every word. he lowers his gaze, a pinkish color settling on his cheeks "you really think so?"
ੈ✩‧₊˚ taerae - his calm side
dating taerae can be a bit exhausting sometimes (especially if you’re introverted) because this man YELLS. like it’s not even that he does it on purpose most of the time, he just has a really prominent voice. he would be playing video games online with his friends and he wouldn’t even hear how loud he is screaming because of his headphones. you throw a pillow at him, monitoring a "silence" motion with your index finger as you were trying to take a nap. after mouthing a sorry, taerae delicately turns off his computer, puts his headphones aside and takes his guitar before sitting next to you on the bed. he strokes your hair, apologising with now the calmest voice before he starts singing you to sleep with his sweet voice.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ ricky - his attentive side
you don't even try to figure out what's on ricky's mind sometimes. he would start talking about some random subject, then starts talking about another, then another... he himself would be distracted with his own words when he's talking to you that he would need to get quiet, blink a few times and let out a "what?" before laughing and trying to focus again. he can be easily distracted but he is also really observant, especially around you. one day he started talking about all the little habits you have that he finds endearing and you realised that you weren't even aware that you had half of these.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ gyuvin - his serious side
one thing about gyuvin is that he's always going to make fun of people. and you being his partner gets the WORST treatment. he was on his phone when he suddenly laughs, shoving it in your face. you were horrified when you saw the ugliest picture of you sleeping and started begging him to delete it. he continues laughing as you try to snatch the device out of his hands but, again, he was too tall. without even you knowing, tears roll down your cheeks and the expression on gyuvin's face completely changes. he takes you in his arms, stroking you back and apologising over and over again. later in the evening, you two had a deep conversation and he asks to set boundaries because he never wants to hurt you ever again. (he won't stop making fun of you though, as far as you allow him <3)
ੈ✩‧₊˚ gunwook - his cute side
mister giant baby thinks that his role is to protect you no matter what. he thinks he always need to be tough, and that you're probably just dating him to open jars and carry heavy stuff for you??? "can i be the big spoon today?" you ask, opening your arms for gunwook who had just showered after coming back from practice. he looks at you confused, at first disapproving because blah blah he's the big boy here before sighing and placing his head on your chest. you suddenly see his eyes soften at the sudden contact as you pull him closer. gunwook hums contently and closes his eyes. "not so bad , after all?" you chuckle while stroking his cheek with your thumb. "shut up~" he whines in a cute voice, hiding his face in your neck.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ yujin - his emotional side
you know that it is not easy to read yujin like an open book. and since he's also pretty new to the whole relationship thing, he finds it quite hard to express his emotions, especially around you. you were studying in yujin's room while he was practicing his vocals in the bathroom (the acoustic is good, apparently). and you were so focused on studying for your next test that you didn't hear nor see the door open a minute ago. "can i talk to you?" yujin's voice startles you from across the room and you gulp nervously, inviting him to sit next to you. he suddenly leans his head on your shoulder and your hand naturally comes up to pet his head. "i feel like i haven't been doing really good lately, with my vocals and dancing... and like i don't know if i'm even good enough..." you listen attentively to his worries and reassures him that he's doing great and that you're proud of him. (might have teared up a little).
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mitsies · 8 months
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❊ foolish one - inumaki toge . . silence speaks volumes, and he thinks that you can't listen for much longer.
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it's not fair of him to love you like he does.
inumaki feels horrible, he really does. his affection is selfish and abominable, and it hurts to feel it. but he can't not. it's a kind of love that makes him sick. his chest burns and heaves with unspeakable words, and his nails carve half-moons into his palms with uncontained admiration.
there isn't a thing about you he doesn't love. from every sunspot to every hair on your head. he loves the cadence of your voice, and he loves the face you make when he pokes you or does something otherwise annoying. he relishes in this expression, really, because it means you noticed him, you saw him. he really is awful, for how he scrounges and scrabbles for every piece of your attention he can get. like a beggar on the street, like a moth, like a starved animal. it's pathetic, he thinks.
he feels especially selfish on sunday movie nights with all the first-years, when he steals the spot on the couch right next to you because he knows you'll fall asleep on his shoulder. he feels even worse on mornings when he hopes something like a strange sickness will befall maki so she can't go on a mission with you, and he'll get to replace her. because maki is his friend, but she's also your friend, and he'd much rather if he was your only one. and he's the most selfish on break days, where he gets into predicaments on purpose so you'll help him out.
inumaki remembers the first snow of the year, because he remembers the little stuffed animal punching him through his pocket. one of principal yaga's stuffed animals had not-so-accidentally ended up in the pocket of his winter coat, and he needed your help— not panda's, or maki's, or yuuta's— your help, to get it back to his office without being caught. oh, he loved that day. he loved the look of exasperation on your face, he loved the amusement in your eyes every time the living stuffed animal would hit him, he loved that stolen hour in your company.
the guilt is abrasive. the anguish of loving you scalds like hot tea slipt on his palms and he's sick, he has to be, because he can't get enough and at the same time it's too much. he loves you but he shouldn't, because you deserve better.
he can't love you the way you deserve. he knows it— if you know, then you probably know it. everyone probably knows it. everyone. he's so, so unfair. he's cruel to subject you through his love. you should have someone who can tell you how much they love you, instead of relying on a hand on the shoulder or a friendly shoulder during a movie. you deserve the compliments that are spoken, and not written. you deserve someone who can match your inflection, and tone, and cadence, the very parts of your voice he admires so much. someone who can your favorite songs with you. someone better, much better than him.
he thinks he's merciful for letting you go. he decides he should one night, when he hears you laughing through a door at something someone else said. because he doesn't have the words to make you laugh, and actions are never enough for him. it's an act of kindness, for how he blocks you out. for how he stops trying to steal you away, to sit next to you, to slip you notes, and make you smile. he believes it's the right thing to do, to take away your choice.
avoiding you is hard at first. cutting out an addiction to your warmth is easier said than done, but he finds that looking through you has become easier than looking at you. if he looks through you, he doesn't see the creases of your smile and the lines of your eyes that make him fall harder every time. and he thinks you don't even notice— if you do, you say not a word. inumaki thinks it makes it easier. if you said nothing, it meant you didn't notice his withdrawal. if you didn't notice, it meant you didn't like him back. and if you didn't like him back, then he never had a chance to begin with.
that is, until, the second night of summer.
for the first time in a while, it's too hot to sleep. a summer storm brews somewhere in the distance, and the humidity of the air cuts like a blade. inumaki finds himself outside, seated on the steps of the boy's dormitory, unsurprisingly thinking of you. so it's almost like he's the one who summoned you, when you appear in front of you. he didn't even hear your footsteps.
you look upset. arms crossed over your chest, dressed in a loose, too-big t-shirt and shorts. you look like you just woke up and inumaki wouldn't be surprised if that ended up being the truth, considering the late hour and the unbearable heat. you're frowning in a way that makes his chest hurt because whatever has made you upset must be the worst thing in the world, and he hates it so much, too. but then he realizes what he's feeling, purses his lips beneath his scarf, and looks away.
"can you even look at me?"
he wasn't expecting you to talk to him, let alone so bluntly. but you do, and it's your voice, the one he loves so, too much. and you're talking to him. his eyes drift towards you.
it's silent for a beat before you speak again. "did i do something?"
and oh, you sound so shattered. it's something unusual, the grief carried in your tone. it's an inflection he wishes he wasn't familiar with, but knew all too well considering the nature of your career. but nothing bad had happened, he thinks. only good. so what happened? inumaki shakes his head and tips it to the side in an inquiry, even though he wants to run to hold you. he wants to take your head in his arms and hold it to his chest and speak, and tell you it's okay, and ask what's wrong. but the best he can do is sit and stare like a dog.
you purse your lips and breathe in deeply before continuing: "then why are you ignoring me?"
his stomach plummets. he didn't think you noticed. he can't look you in the eyes anymore, and he's almost as surprised when you scoff, "oh. so i was right; you are."
he really, really can't look at you. he settles for the bush just behind you that blows with a pleasant cold breeze carried through the hot summer night as you keep on talking. "i was hoping i was imagining it. but you aren't even pretending?"
he sits still, like a statue. and you must be so hurt because you have a million more words to say, it seems, as you steamroll over his silence. "and i thought we were friends. a whole year of this school— you'd think it'd make us friends. but now— out of nowhere— you act like i'm not even here. what did i do? and to think—"
you pause. your voice is cracked, shaky. you don't know what else there is left to say, except for the truth: "and to think that i liked you back."
his back stiffened. his eyes meet yours. a shiver passes through him, and it's suddenly freezing cold. inumaki blinks at you. you glare at him. "yuuta told me everything," you state bluntly.
yuuta, the one person to whom inumaki had admitted his feelings. of course he told you. he was too good to lie about something like this. inumaki feels the fabric of the world around him rip and shred like it's been dropped in a cat's cradle, a vice grip squeezes the air out of his lungs, and for the first time, he has nothing he wants to say, even if he could.
"you decided for me," you continue after a short lapse, "decided that you weren't good enough. but you didn't even think about what i would've wanted."
he is silent. you keep speaking, unshed tears scratching your words into sharp, snappy sentences.. "i would've liked you no matter what. no matter your technique, or fucking whatever. i did. i do. but you chose for me."
he hopes he's seeing things when a tear, illuminated by the moonlight, slides down the apple of your cheek before you wipe at your face with your palm. you conclude, "it wasn't fair. for me, or for you."
unceremoniously, briskly, you turn and leave. it happened almost as quickly as you'd appeared. if he blinked, he'd have missed it. the pit in his stomach is growing deeper and consuming him whole.
inumaki cannot say a word. he can't move, to chase after you. he can't do anything but sit, and stare, and watch you go. he can't breathe, he can't think, he can't picture a future where it all works out because he doesn't know if it will.
loving you was unfair. he didn't deserve you, he knows. but leaving you was worse.
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flowers chosen: belladonna & columbine . . silence and foolishness
❊ send a request! ❊ 5k masterlist ❊ event info ❊
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goldenlikedayl1ght · 2 months
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wildest dreams - m. murdock
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a/n: i have literally not been inspired for two weeks then i was STRUCK with the urge to write this. guys. i am so proud of this one i am not even going to lie. this one is dedicated to @bunmurdock because i am literally always thinking about professor murdock.... i really hope you guys enjoy this one, because i enjoyed writing it :) warnings: SMUT! inappropriate dynamic, P in V smut, so much cursing, lots of inappropriate thoughts and pining, power dynamics, dirty talk, reader does an edible and is high for a small part of this fic, reader isn't stupid in this one! she is just horny! she is also deaf, and there is yapping of readers daddy issues word count: 6.3k likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! <3 summary: you have a huge crush on your professor and spend many days desperate for him. pairing: professor!matt murdock x hoh!reader now playing: wildest dreams - taylor swift (taylor's version) "i said, "no one has to know what we do"/his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room"
You could treat him better than any of these other horny grad students.
Seriously, that is your only conscious thought watching this man move around the front of this lecture center. You’re not dumb, you know everyone sitting here wants him—Those who are attracted to men want to fuck him and those who aren’t seek his approval. But you are built different, you’re also lacking a major sense, besides, your brain runs ramped with disgusting thoughts about the man.
Today’s focus is on the man’s outfit. It’s his last class of the day, and it shows. His clothes are a bit more wrinkled, and his hair is messier than it had been when he started the day. But most importantly, his jacket is thrown on the back of his chair, meaning you have a phenomenal view of his torso.
He wears a white button down, with the cuffs of the arms rolled up to just below his elbows, the bottom of the shirt tucked into the waistline of his pants. The shirt is tight, maybe a little too tight, especially around the arms. Maybe it’s because he works out. Or at least, you assume he works out.
That brings us to his tie. Oh, his tie. It’s nothing special—a pure black tie, just hanging from his neck. Your mind wanders. It starts at the dissection of a key court case in the subject of minimum wage, but from there, it starts drifting to his tie.
You think about the tie moving back and forth above you as he thrusts into you, brushing against your face, pulling on it to bring him closer. You think about that soft half chuckle he does, before he says something dirty like—
“Did you have something to add?” His voice right in front of you snaps you out of your trance. Fuck. You were not paying attention.
“Uh, No, Professor..” Your face is a deep red, embarrassed. You wish you could take off your hearing aids to stop listening to all the giggling from around you, from peers who are thrilled that Professor Murdock’s little (not-so) secret admirer got called out for her staring.
“Hm,” he taps the table in front of you, “Then I want you paying attention.” He says, before going back to his lecture. You could die right there. Everyone is laughing at you. He embarrassed you.
Okay, so you have no proof that he’s ever wanted you in the way that you’ve been so god damn desperate for him, but it’s still crushing that he’d single you out in that way. That maybe while you were increasingly needy for him, he found you fucking annoying, in such a way that he felt the need to embarrass you in front of your peers.
You want to melt—Melt into a puddle with just your boots and your hearing aids left behind so you never have to face him ever again. That’s why you’re so relieved when he dismisses class right on time (Well, right on time for him. He always ends class five minutes early to leave room for questions) and you quickly gather your things.
Because of the sheer level of embarrassment he has caused you, the other students in the class who want him try to flock to him, sensing that you no longer have the confidence to engage with him—But your desire is still there, as you messily shove your things into your backpack. You turn when you’re finished, slinging your bag over your shoulder.
Your face is still flushed, part because you’re embarrassed, part because you are out of breath from rushing. But you are faced with the view of your professor, all alone. Your breath hitches when his hand moves up to the top of his tie, as he smooths it out, running his fingers down the fabric.
“I read your essay on the expectations of the courts and law versus the realities of it. I loved it. The argument using Gideon versus Wainwright to justify the existence of the right to counsel as a civil right and not a liberty was fascinating, especially considering your other arguments about how race, class and gender play into those realities. Well done. I thought it was some of your best work.”
Your face is flushed for a new reason now. Wasn’t this the same man who was mad at you for not paying attention?
“I thought so too.” You confess, and he just smiles. He loves that you’re confident in your work. You’ll make a great lawyer one day.
“Oh, and,” He digs through his leather satchel to pull out some notes, running his finger over the folder tab to make sure he has the right folder, “Here are the printed copy of our notes from the last few lectures.” It’s part of your accommodations that professors give you a copy.
“Thanks, Professor.” You smile gently, reaching out to take the papers. Your hands meet and as you grip the notes, the tips of your fingers just barely brush against his. Neither of you say anything. Neither of you let go.
“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you today.” He starts, “But you’re bright—Smarter than most of your professors, I bet. And I don’t want you to fall behind.” He says softly, and without saying it, you know he’s worried because of your hearing. He was disabled in law school once upon a time, and he recognizes your potential.
“It’s okay.” You say softly, softer than your voice usually is. “I get it, really. It won’t happen again.”
“Good.” He says gently, letting go of the papers now. As you clutch them close to your chest, his hand goes back up to mess with his tie again. Does he know what he’s doing? Does he know how wild it drives you? He must. “I’ll see you on Thursday.”
“See you on Thursday.” You agree, and that’s when you leave the classroom.
As the door closes behind you, he listens intently. He hears your nervous heartbeat, could practically feel the heat radiating off you. But he knows your routine by now. You’re about to start playing music, and he likes knowing what sort of mood you’re in as you leave his class.
A smile spreads across his face when he hears the opening notes of that new Hozier song, ‘Too Sweet’.
• • •
You are a straight A student. You study days in advance for exams, you write elaborate study guides and most of all, you do not miss class, unless you are dying (no, seriously, the last time you missed class you were rushed to the hospital, sick with pneumonia after a big exam, which you aced). So, when you’re not in Matt’s class on Thursday, he tries not to panic.
You’re a grown woman, he tells himself, and he doesn’t have an attendance policy, having told the class on syllabus day that he trusted them to know when to come to class and when they should go lay in the sun or stay home with a bad cold.
But you once came to class doped up on cold medicine with a mask on, just because you didn’t want to miss any important information. He heard it before you got to class, so he faked a family emergency to cancel class early that day. He could hear your rattled sigh of relief as the other students flooded out.
And he knows for a fact you didn’t show up today because of how fucking loud you are; You don’t mean to be, but he can hear the light buzzing of your hearing aids, and you wear these big work boots that stomp even when you’re trying to step lightly. And he heard neither buzzing nor stomps today.
Oh, your boots. He’s spent years with everything being too loud, but he just can’t help but think about the boots—What color were they? What were their texture? He has this fantasy that lives at the very back of his mind of putting you in heels, heels too big for anyone let alone a girl who only wears clunky work boots, that way he would have to help you, take care of you, and it is a fantasy that will probably live at the back of his mind until he dies.
Sure, he’d probably get married, settle down with someone his age and never worry if she might be dissatisfied with an older man, and she’ll be quiet. No hearing aids, no big boots. They’ll have kids, they’ll be happy together. He’ll still go to you when he can’t sleep, and no one will ever know.
Wait, what was he doing? Oh, right. You weren’t in class today.
His fingers move over the keyboard to look you up in the system. He clicks on the audio assistant to read him your information. It reads out your first and last name, middle initial, then your grade in his class (A+), your accommodations (Notes, time and a half, things like that), your birthday, and—
Wait, he takes a moment, and his fingers go over to his braille calendar, realizing that you’re taking a day off because it’s your birthday. A laugh escapes his lips, because how silly was he being?
His fingers move again to find your email address. He debates for a moment before adding the subject line, “Absence Today.” Then, he erases it and changes it to, “Class Today”, hoping you wouldn’t freak out before reading the email.
And just for a moment, he lets himself dream. He writes the following email to you,
“Hey, sweetheart—
Happy Birthday. I’m so happy you’re taking a break, you deserve it, more than anyone else I know. Are you doing something fun for it? Going out and getting wasted? Hooking up with some college guy who couldn’t fuck you properly?
If I could, my birthday gift to you would be a day spent with my face buried between your pretty thighs, although that might be a birthday gift to me and not to you. I’ve always been a selfish man, and you seem to be something I am entirely selfish about. I want your hands tangled in my hair, tugging on it as I taste you. I want you all to myself. I didn’t hear the buzzing of your hearing aids or the clunking of your boots, and I felt this striking yearning.
I can’t stand being around you without having you. It’s torture.
Happy Birthday,
Matthew.’
He thinks about it for a minute, before completely erasing the email, and sending you this one instead:
‘Missed you in class today! We went over the reading for Chapter Seven. Happy Birthday! Professor M’
He sends it, and then rubs his face, a long sigh leaving his lips. He is completely enamored by you, and it is so unfair.  You’d be in class on Monday, he told himself. He’d see you then, and it would be like getting his fix of you.
Then, he turns to the distraction of trying to grade papers. It won’t work. He’ll still have you on his mind all day, and there will be no relief in sleeping. Hopefully he’ll dream of that long day between your thighs.
• • •
Truth be told, you were not drinking and fucking some random guy when Matt emails you. You were cuddled up in bed, giggling and eating snacks, so many snacks, because, well, you took an edible with a bunch of your friends and now are high out of your mind.
Some animated shows are on in the background, and when your phone buzzes, you pick it up and almost melt when you see the email from your favorite professor. You start giggling like a kid, your fingers clutching your phone as you read the email over and over again.
One friend looks up to you from her place on your floor and asks, “Are you alright?”
You don’t answer at first, but then you nod, and pull your blanket close, imagining Matt’s arms around you. Your brain paints you a picture of him holding you against his chest and gently playing with your hair.
It’s a nice fantasy.
• • •
For being a law student, you really fucking hate it sometimes. Okay, that’s not true. You love being a law student and are so excited to go out into the world and make that difference. But you’d be lying if you don’t sort of contemplate dropping out and getting a sugar daddy over certain assignments.
Maybe Matt is in the market. Then you shake your head to get the thought out of there, before opening your laptop to check your professor’s office hours. The one that assigned this assignment is an old bat who does not have office hours except for during your other classes on Fridays.
Then, you look at Matt’s office hours. He has office hours right now. You click the pen in your hand a few times, thinking. Contemplating. Would he want to see you at this point? Would you be able to control yourself?
You give the question you’re working on one more time before you lean down and grab your boots, starting to lace them up. Then, you pack up your bag, heart beating nervously over what—Asking him for help with an assignment?
You make it all the way across campus, the whole time worried about if you’ll walk in on your professor with some other girl. You almost laugh at that thought, because you think you’re silly for how dramatic you are about the man.
You stand down the hallway from his office for a few minutes, just contemplating. You could just turn around and not at all open the possibility of being around him, and everything stays the same. Nothing changes, and your relationship with your professor maintains it’s strictly professional relationship.
You walk towards the door, knocking on it before holding your breath.
“Come on in,” He calls from behind the door. Now or never. You open the door, and smile in his direction.
“Hey, professor,” You greet, a soft smile on your face. His tie is loose around his neck. You blink away whatever daydream your brain wants to dive headfirst into.
“Hey,” He greets, “I don’t think you have any assignments due, so what’s up?” He asks, tilting his head in your direction. As you think about it, you realize that you do not need help with an assignment.
“This is going to sound like a lie. But I had trouble with this assignment earlier, and suddenly I walked in here and realized I knew exactly what I was doing. I’m sorry for bothering you.” You explain, but you make no attempt to turn around and leave.
“Let me guess,” He starts, gauging by what year and academic proficiency you’re at, “Professor Reid’s estate planning class? That assignment about the will and testament of an old lady with a marriage less than 90 days and estranged kids?”
You groan and take a seat in one of the chairs in his office. He laughs in response, shaking his head.
“That old bat.” You roll your eyes. He just smiles and shakes his head.
“You’ll be fine. Just remember to cheat on your final.” He tells you, and you give him a perplexed look.
“What?”
“Well, for the final, there’ll be a question about a super niche argument on inheritance. Just cheat on it.”
“You’re a professor, telling me to cheat?”
“I cheated on it,” He shrugs. You suddenly remember that he used to go to school here and has taken all the classes you’re struggling with right now.
“You’re being unprofessional.” You tell him, and he smiles again. Your heart skips a beat, and somehow, his smile grows. As if he knows exactly what sort of effect he has on you. As if this is all a game he likes to play with you, his eager and willing participant.
“Okay, forget that I told you to cheat on Reid’s exam. We have to talk about something, it would be awkward to just sit here in silence. Uh, what did you major in in undergrad?”
“English. I minored in Disability studies.”
“So why Law?” He asks curiously, leaning forward and clasping his hands together, before resting them on his desk. Jesus Christ.
“I’m tired of being poor.” The answer slips out before you can really stop yourself. He laughs again, and something in you stirs. As if making him laugh is the newest way you feel good about yourself. How twisted is that? “I’m being serious!” You laugh too, unable to contain it.
“I’m sure,” he promises, “I grew up poor too, I was sick of it too. But if you’re going to be a lawyer—”
“You need to have respect for the law and the people taken advantage by it,” You finish, “I get that, really, I do. And I want to help people. I want to go into divorce law and help all the poor and battered women like—” You’re forgetting yourself. You’re forgetting that this isn’t a date and that this man is your professor.
“Like..?” He prods you to finish, curious. He is on the edge of his seat about you. This is more than he has gotten of you in the past few weeks you’ve been taking his class.
“Like my mom.” You finish suddenly looking for something to do with your hands. Anything, really. “But the check that comes with it isn’t exactly deterring me, you know?”
“I get that,” he says earnestly, “I was an orphan, one of those dirty scrappy ones you feel bad for,” he does that half chuckle that makes you want to go over there and kiss him. “Never knew my mom, and my dad died when I was young. So, I get it. Being poor and wanting to do better for yourself. For your parent who sacrificed for you.”
But it clicks for him, the hidden meaning behind your ambitions. You have daddy issues, and he can tell that’s part of your crush on him. Though, he’ll never say it to you. He’ll let it be something unspoken between the two of you.
“Yeah, I guess you do get it.” You smile softly. But this is dangerous. So so dangerous. The two of you are dancing this dangerous line—Well, more like you’re damn well dancing clear over the line and ignoring it. But you don’t know how to stop it. Maybe you don’t want to stop it.
“Well, uh, maybe you could finish that assignment while we’re here.” He clears his throat, straightening his tie and you try to connect the wires in your brain to focus on the assignment. You pull it out of your bag and place it on his desk, smoothing it out a bit. Matt gets up and starts to wander around the office, and you look at him curiously. “I think better when I can move around.”
You should’ve known that much, you have stared at him doing lectures, wandering from end to end of the rows and rows in the classroom.
“Yeah, totally,” You nod, focusing on the assignment. It’s on paper, the old bat refuses to use online assignments. You’re practically flying through the assignment, and it’s at the point where you are forgetting your company. In fact, you really don’t notice him.. Until you lean back and stretch, jumping when you realize that Matt has taken a spot right behind you, his hands on the arms of your chair, leaning forward. You’re practically leant up against him.
“See? Was that so hard?” Your face flushes, his voice right next to your ear. He has to know; he has to know how you’re affecting him. You tilt your head a bit, and your eyes are level with his chin. His stubble moves as he sets his jaw. He doesn’t smell much like anything… except the faintest hint of clean sheets and this slight scent of mahogany. It would go perfect with a whiff of whiskey.
“No,” you say quietly, and he almost shudders at the feeling of your warm breath against his cheek. “Not at all, Prof—”
“Call me Matt.” It’s almost begging. You’re kind of into it, but that’s not surprising given how incredibly attractive you find him.
“Okay.” You say quietly. He has reduced you to one-word answers. The two of you stay quiet for a while. You’re unsure what to say. Matt is contemplating his options. Anyone could walk in on the two of you like this. The door isn’t locked, and you want to bring this up, but the words die out in your throat. His head tilts a bit towards you, and you get a glimpse at those perfect lips of his.
“You know—” He starts, but before he can get any farther, you lean in and kiss him. You kiss him intensely, your hand on his cheek, and for once, you are not filled with regret at a bad decision. He doesn’t react at first, and for just a second, you’re nervous.
Then, He kisses you back, letting out this deep hum as he deepens the kiss. He tilts his head to get deeper into your mouth, and his hands make their way down to your hips. He focuses for a second, before wrapping his arms around you to pick you up and sitting you on his desk.
His hands trail down as the pair of you kiss, landing on your thighs. His fingers rub back and forth, and you gasp when he squeezes your thighs. He grins and takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your clunky boots hit against his desk and he practically growls at the sound. He pulls away, his teeth biting your bottom lip as he does.
You’re completely out of breath, and so is he. He stumbles back a bit, his lips swollen and bright pink from kissing you. He wipes his mouth as he pants, and inhales deeply. You run your fingers through your hair, brushing the hair that has fallen onto your face.
“We..” he mumbled gently, running his hand over his chin. “Holy shit, kid—”
“Don’t call me kid—”
“Listen,” he goes over to you and brushes the hair from your face, “That was.. it was phenomenal, but someone could’ve walked in on that, and.. Fuck, if we do that again, I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.” he confesses, his hands on your cheeks.
“When I was staring off into space last week, I was thinking about your tie.” You tell him, your hands are finding the base of it now. He tilts his head, curiously.
“What were you thinking about?”
“Was daydreaming about it brushing against my face as you fuck me.” You could swear his face is red. You grin.
“Yeah?” He laughs, taking the tie from you and bringing the tie up to brush against your cheeks, “Like that?” he teases, and you laugh back. Dick.
“Mhm,” You giggle, and your hands find his, wrangling the tie out of his hands, and tugging on it, before bringing him in for another kiss. He inhales deeply as he kisses you, taking the taste of you in for a moment before pulling away.
“I’m serious, sweetheart, this is dangerous.”
“Sweetheart?” You grin. He takes your chin and grips it between his thumb and pointer finger.
“Hey. Pay attention.” He says, and you want to argue that saying things in that low gravely tone will not help you pay attention, but you can tell he’s serious. That he wants your attention focused on him, this is important. “Listen. I like you. I like you a lot, but we have to be careful if we want any of this to go further. We have to be subtle and watch our steps.” He says softly.
“Okay.” You promise, “Okay, we should be careful.” He smiles gently and leans in to kiss your forehead.
“Good pup.” He hums, and your face flushes.
“I like ‘pup’.” You like sweetheart too, but your stomach flips when he calls you pup.
“Yeah, I know you do.” He grins. “Wanna get out of here?”
“I thought you said we have to be careful.”
“Okay, then I’ll give you my address and you can come over.” He shrugs. “I know how badly I need you, I can only imagine how you feel.” He hums, and you grin.
“Okay, Here, give me your phone.” Matt fishes his phone out of his pocket and hands it to you. You put your number in with your name, sending yourself a quick text before handing the phone back to him. “There. Send it to me.” He steps back so you can hop off the desk, before putting your homework back in your bag.
As you sling your bag over your shoulder, he grabs your wrist in his hand and pulls you close, just to kiss you again.
• • •
Your hands are shaking as you drive over to Matt’s apartment. You’re so full of desire for him, and you take a second after parking the car to adjust your hair and makeup. Luckily you had no plans with your friends so it’s not like you’re hiding anything from anyone.
Are you about to sleep with the professor you’ve had a crush on since the beginning of the semester? Hopefully. You take a quick glance down to the apartment number he sent you before climbing out of the car, locking it behind you.
Then, you manage your way through the building, finding yourself in front of his door for the second time tonight. You hesitate. Though, you’re not sure why. Well, maybe you do. Maybe you’re terrified that this is going to be bad. Or maybe that you’re scared you’ll be bad, and he’ll hate you.
Maybe you just need to get over yourself. Although, you can’t really do much more convincing because Matt swings open the door and grins at you. You almost die at the sight of him. His tie is gone, and his shirt is unbuttoned by three buttons.
“You’re so hot,” You blurt out as you hand him a cheap bottle of wine you picked up on the way here.
“You’re cute,” he hums, grabbing your arm and pulling you into the apartment, leaving you giggling as he closes the door behind you. You look around his apartment, your eyes catching on the giant billboard. You’re standing in front of the window when he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. His lips gently kiss your neck, up and down, biting your shoulder gently. “Enamored by the billboard, sweetheart?”
“Your windows are so big, probably a lot of light in here during the day.” You say softly, and he smiles against your neck.
“Mhm, one day, I’ll fuck you against those windows—”
“Matt,” You groan, but he just shushes you and kisses your neck again.
“I know, pup,” He hums, “But don’t worry, I’ll show you a very nice time, hear all those pretty noises you can make for me.” You blush, turning to say something to him but he wraps his arms around your waist again, before throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you to his room. You’re laughing all the way there, before throwing you onto the bed.
“Mean.” You accuse, but he shrugs.
“You’ll get over it, sweetheart, I promise.” He hums, and you sit up on his bed. He stands between your legs, leaning down to kiss you gently, his hands finding your cheeks again. He kisses you like this for a few minutes, before slowly kneeling in front of you, never breaking the increasingly sloppy kiss. You pull away from the kiss to study him. He tilts his head, his hands finding your thighs to rub them again as he did in the office. “What?” he asks gently.
“I spent all those lectures only being able to study you from a far.. Just let me really look at you for a while..” You request. He grins gently as your fingers run over his stubble again. Your hands move up to his glasses. “Can I take these off?” You request, tilting your head.
Matt hesitates, just for a second. He’s not really used to it, to someone truly wanting to see him, every part of him. But he trusts you, wants you to see him. So he nods, letting out a soft ‘yeah’ as you pull off those circular red glasses, gently folding them and setting them down somewhere safe.
Then, you take a good, long look at his eyes. They’re this deep brown, almost black, irises that are drop dead gorgeous. The skin around his eyes is scarred, but the scars are old, yet, you rub your thumb gently against that scarred skin. You lean in and press a kiss to the corner of his eyes, first the left one, then the right one.
He leans up and kisses you after that, his hands slowly making their way down your legs. Your hands find his buttons of his shirt starting to undo them. He pulls away from the kiss, before slipping off his button up, throwing it away somewhere in the room. Your eyes drift down to these scars on his collarbones, and your fingers run over them. Then, you notice other scars on his skin, and your hands find those too.
“Your boots are so loud,” he hums, and you’re taken back by it.
“What?”
“Your boots.” He hums, “I hear you stomping around with these things on, they’re.. Like a bell, you know? I like knowing you’re around.” His fingers go down to the laces of your left boot, slowly untying them. Then, he does the same with the right boot.
He pulls off your boots, before running his fingers over your socks.
“They’re multicolored. Bright and patterned.” You confess, and he grins, before pulling them off. Then, he stops, realizing you have another pair of socks on. He blinks, before starting to laugh.
“You have two pairs of socks on?” he chuckles, your face flushing.
“My boots are just a little too big!” You tell him, and he laughs, resting his head against your thigh. He finishes taking your socks off, before working on the buttons of your jeans. When he finally gets those undone, he pulls off your pants, throwing them somewhere close to his now abandoned shirt. His hand comes up to rub you through your panties, and he lets out a scoff as he does.
“So wet for me, pup..” He mumbles, coming up to gently kiss your cheeks and then your jaw, as you whine. “I know, baby, I know,” he says softly, rubbing your clit gently. You whine gently at the feeling, gripping his wrist. He chuckles softly, kissing you to shut you up a bit.
He pulls his hand away from your throbbing cunt to pull off your tee shirt, throwing it wherever. He starts to kiss you as you fiddle with the buttons of his pants and pull them off, letting him step out of the before he casts them away.
You grin into the kiss, before he pulls away.
“What? What’s got you so giddy, pup?” he asks, a grin on his face too.
“Briefs,” You hum, fiddling with the waistband of his briefs, and he laughs, shaking his head.
“Thinking about your professor’s underwear?” He teases, leaning in to bite your neck. “Dirty, dirty girl.” He grins, and you swat at his shoulder, which causes him to laugh. He likes having fun with you, even if it’s not inherently sexual.
His hands come up to run gently over your skin, trailing from your hands up to your shoulders, and then all the way to your ears, where his fingers gently run over your hearing aids. It’s a nice gesture, really, but as soon as his fingers brush over your hearing aids, you immediately retract, the feedback shooting through your skull, uncomfortably.
“Ow—” You cringe, leaning your head back to try and get away from his fingers. He cringes, hearing the feedback, not as badly as you do but knowing it’s there and that you’re in pain pains him.
“I’m sorry,” he coos softly, his fingers moving down to cup your jaw. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I hadn’t realized—”
“Hey, it’s okay,” You hum, tilting your head to kiss his palm gently. “It happens, It’s why you should never touch them while I have them on.” You shrug. He leans down and kisses your stomach a bit, before going back to kiss you again, deepening the kiss a bit before roughly shoving you back on the bed. You giggle as he climbs on top of you, caging you in between his legs, as he slips his tongue into your mouth again. He kisses you with passion and need, and it drives you entirely too wild. As he pulls away, one hand comes up to grip your chin, before he leans down with his head against yours.
“Want me to fuck you, pretty thing?” He asks gently, his voice sweet as honey as he talks so obscenely to you. You whine, finally getting what you want after weeks and months of waiting. He just smiles and shakes his head, “No, no, puppy, you gotta say it to me.” He requests.
“Yes, I want you..” You groan, bucking your hips a bit at the thought of him finally fucking you.
“Want me to do what?” he asks, innocently.
“Want you to fuck me, please..” You request, and this finally seems to satisfy him. His hand comes down to unhook your bra, throwing it behind him with the rest of your clothes, before his lips begin to travel downwards, kissing down your jaw and neck, before he’s kissing the valley of your breasts, his hand going down to rub your clit again.
He groans against your skin at the feeling of your wetness soaking through your underwear and listening to your moans. His hands begin to work to take off your panties, and as soon as those are gone, your hands come up to his briefs, wanting them gone.
“Off, off, off—” You huff, and he laughs as he slips them off. Then, he reaches over and grabs a condom from the bedside table, but you grab his hand, shaking your head, “No, no—I’m on the pill, promise.”
“You sure?” He asks gently, and you nod, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.
“Sure.” You nod, and then you’re kissing him again, your hand going down to stroke his cock, and he gasps into the kiss, before chuckling. He pulls away to mutter out to you--
“Needy girl,” he purrs, before moving to kiss you again. As you’re kissing, he slips his cock into you, and you moan into the kiss, tensing at the feeling, “Relax for me, pup.. So fucking tight for me.” He groans, his hand coming down to swat your thigh. “Relax.” He tells you, his voice sterner this time.
You nod, trying to form a more conscious thought than the pure bliss you feel, your hands wrapping around his neck, scratching down his back a bit. He groans softly, as he starts to slowly thrust into you. He is using every ounce of self-control he has, resisting the urge to absolutely violate you.
But he’s trying to be gentle, be nice.
“Faster,” You gasp out, your fingers pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck. He does that half chuckle, and it makes you whine as he begins to speed up.
“Beautiful little pup..” he says lowly, “Been staring at me.. Wanting your professor so badly these past few weeks, dirty little thing,” he hums, “Fuck, so.. fuck..” Your legs are beginning to shake the longer and harder he thrusts into you. “So fucking good for me..” You whine into his lips as they crash into yours, one hand going down to rub your clit gently, the stimulation too much for someone who hasn’t had sex this good, ever, but especially because you haven’t had sex at all in the past.. well, six or more months.
“Matty, ‘m..” You can barely get the words out as he fucks you harder,
“I know baby, come on, cum for me, pup,” he coos, his thrusts nor rubbing slowing down, maintaining his pace. Within a minute, you’re coming with loud moans into his ears, and he’s following suit shortly after, coming deep inside you.
But for the few minutes after the two of you finish, he continues his thrusting, relishing in the pretty moans and the sound of his deep thrusts into you. Eventually, he slows down, remaining deep inside of you. He pulls you close, kissing you deeply before flipping the pair of you over, and holding your legs close to stay buried deep inside of you.
For a few minutes, there are no words spoken, just deep, frantic pants and sweaty skin against each other.
“You know, that was as good as I’ve been fantasizing about for weeks.” You pant, “Better, even..” He laughs and nods.
“Me too..” he kisses you softly. “Let me take you out somewhere.”
“I thought we had to be careful..”
“We’ll go away somewhere then. Just the two of us for the weekend. I need to be with you, I can’t get enough of you now that I’ve had a taste.. Besides, I haven’t even eaten you out. Now that, that is going to be fun.” He grins, and you swat his arm.
“Evil, mean man!” You gasp, and he just laughs, kissing your forehead.
“I’m sorry, pup, let me make it up to you,” he hums.
“How?”
“Calling you pup a few times, ordering Thai food and teaching you how to suck me off?”
“I know how to suck you off,” You scoff.
“Oh yeah?” He tilts his head, leaning in to kiss him. Then, lips still against yours, he whispers, “Prove it, pretty puppy.”
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peachesofteal · 6 months
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Soap x Cypher's masterlist 18+ mdni / dark and twisty themes / dubcon / explicit, spanking Soap/female reader Sergeant MacTavish teaches you a lesson about honesty
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"Cypher."
"Yeah?" You barely look up, too focused on the raw data that's filtering across your screen.
"Laswell asked for you." You don't hear it at first, the request. You're too lost in the lines and lines of code, numbers, letters, symbols all working together, where is it, where- "Cypher!" your coworker barks, and you jump.
"Shit. Sorry... what?"
"Laswell. Upstairs. Briefing room. Now?" Your lips quirk, head hanging. Yeah, guess you deserved that.
"Did she say for what?"
"No. And it's not my place to ask." They jerk their head, and you lockdown your console. Fine.
Station Chief Laswell scares you. She's probably one of the smartest people you've ever met, quick with analysis, observation, she can read a situation from top to bottom in less than three seconds. She knows everyone, and everything.
And, she handles the 141.
You don't have frequent interaction with her. You report to her, ultimately, but it's hard to understand where she falls on the org chart. It's hard to understand where you fall on the org chart, if you're being honest, since you're not military, just a civilian contractor. All of the authoritative titling and chain of command makes your head spin a little bit, and you've pretty much decided to ignore it all. Keep your head down, do your job, mind your ps and qs. Your yes sirs and no sirs.
You tap your knuckles against the briefing room door.
"Come in." It's a man's voice, a deep, smooth voice with a British accent, and it makes you pause, confused. I thought Laswell was up here?
You push the door open, hesitantly, and what you find makes your stomach nearly crawl up into your mouth.
The 141 are in here. You glance around hastily before finding Laswell, eyes a little wider than you’re comfortable with. They’re all seated at the table, looking at you, and when you peek at Sergeant MacTavish, he cocks his head so subtly, you might have missed it. Fuck. Shit. Why is he looking at you like that? You think you might pass out. Why do you feel like this around him?
"Gentleman. This is the civilian specialist I told you about." She gestures to you, giving them your government name before continuing, and they all nod. "This is Captain Price, Lieutenant Riley, Sergeant Garrick, and Sergeant MacTavish." She points to each, making the introductions to which you nod, and smile, trying as hard as you can to make eye contact so they don't think you're rude. When she gets to MacTavish, your stomach heats, and on instinct, your eyes drop to the floor before glancing back up to find him focused on you, jaw tight, eyes narrowed.
"You're Cypher." Lieutenant Riley comments, and you nod, surprised. How does he know you?
"That's uh... my nickname. Sir."
“Cypher is our resident analytics expert, and we believe she’s located your targets.” Laswell continues, tapping a key on her laptop that wakes up the black screen of the giant TV. You do a double take when you see your work up there, your lists of compiled data, cross matched and sorted. “I was hoping you could walk them through some of this.” Oh. Oh no. Talk to them?
“Uh okay.” Your fingers find each other, instinctually, trying to pick and tear at your skin as your heart rate speeds up. “This is-“ you glance at the screen, and then back at their expectant faces. Sergeant MacTavish is watching you, predatory gleam in his eyes, and you gulp. Is it hot in here? It’s hot in here. “This is a highlight of hot zones in two different target cities. It’s pulled from local agencies’ databases, everything from license plate readers to residency records, IP hits and census information. After cross matching with all possible identities for your targets, family members, associated persons, patterns of behavior, I confidently believe I've identified and located your subjects, and they reside in these areas.”
"You know who they are?" The Captain asks, surprised, and you nod.
“How confident are ye?” Sergeant MacTavish asks, and you blink.
“Uh, like ninety percent” He looks… displeased. “Sir.” You tack on at the end, hoping to see some sort of approval for it, and when it doesn’t come, the ache inside you widens.
“I like those odds. Heard you were good, but this is something' else. Our intelligence has been working on ID'ing these guys for months with no luck.” Sergeant Garrick raises an eyebrow, exchanging a look with his Captain, and you brighten a little bit. Okay, that’s good. Right? You did good?
“Not sure ninety percent is good enough.” Sergeant MacTavish answers, and Laswell nods like she agrees. You wilt. Welp. And now your boss agrees. “Can ye show me the raw data?”
“I- sure, it’s…” you snap your mouth shut abruptly when he stands, and motions for you to follow him out the door.
“Let’s go then.”
You don’t make it back down to your console. Instead, he pushes you inside a maintenance closet, hand firm on your shoulder, guiding you down to your knees in the back, behind a shelf.
“Sergeant I don’t understand, I-“
“Ye tryin’ to send us out on a wild goose chase?”
“What?” You stare up at him, jaw slack. He’s terrifying, lit by damp, yellow light, arms crossed in front of his chest. There’s something in the way he looks at you, something that makes your thighs press together instinctively and at the same time, your heart starts palpitating. “Sir, I don’t-“ his hand darts forward, pinching your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, squishing them just a bit with a menacing smile.
"Are ye tryin' to send us on a wild goose chase? Yes or no, specialist."
"Nossir." It mushes together in your mouth, vowels trapped between your cheeks, and he nods.
"I didnae think ye were." He releases you, only to step closer, and you gulp when his hands find the waistband of your pants. "Take these to yer knees. Now."
"My... my pants?"
"Aye." When you don't move, he sighs. "Ye dinnae want me to have to ask a second time, do ye?" And no, you don't. Because you're sure whatever is coming will be far worse if you test his patience.
It's humiliating, dropping the pants to your knees, and the mortification gets even worse when his finger slips under the hem of your very boring, generic brand black cotton thong, pulling it with a yank so it jerks you forward and you almost trip.
"Sergeant... Sir, I'm sorry, I-"
"Why are ye sorry? Stay put." He turns away for a second, locating an old, fold up chair that he sets up where he was standing, settling into it with his knees spread. "Now, come."
"I'm sorry, I don't know why... why this is happening, I don't understand." You try to explain your confusion, but it all comes out as nonsense, and he nods, sympathetically, like he's sad for you, in a mocking, cruel way.
He taps his thigh.
"Hips here." He instructs, moving you like a doll when you start to bend down, pressing your belly against one leg, your breasts and collarbone against the other, ass in the air. "Bleedin' Christ. Ye sure are a sight." He squeezes you, fingers rough in the swell of your cheeks, before smoothing over the skin of your hip, pressing a firm palm to the small of your back. "Do ye know why we're doin' this?"
"No." You whisper, eyes closed. You don't know why you're doing any of this, why he's doing it. You don't know why he picked you, why he keeps you in his sights, why he has you bent over his knee. You don't know why you felt floaty and fucked up after the first time, why you dreamt about it, why you felt like you needed it. This is wrong. Isn't it? He swats your ass, barely a tap, and you flinch. "Sir. Sorry. Sir."
"Ye said you were ninety percent."
"I did."
"But I know, ye're better than ninety percent, aren't ye, my wee genius?" Your lungs are burning with the breath you're holding, and you let it out in a burst.
"Yes." You whisper to the floor.
"Why did ye lie?" The question is followed by a swing of air, and then a palm is stinging across your skin, pin prickles of pain making you whimper. "Count."
"One-e." You gasp. He doesn't pull his punches. He strikes fast. True. Twice in a row, the intensity making you choke on a whine. "Two, three. I didn't."
"Ye did." He rubs the point of impact, cooing at your ass like it needs comfort, before asking again. "Why did ye lie?"
"I wasn't, I-" Smack. This one comes in the exact same spot, a cruel choice, and you bite down on your lip, eyes scrunching shut. "Four."
"Why did ye lie?" You don't answer right away, and he swings, palm swatting down onto your other cheek, skin rippling beneath the hit. It steals your breath, and he prompts you again, with the same question, and you fail to answer, his response coming swiftly against you, smacking raw against burning skin. It's starting to shift now, the pain blurring the lines between uncomfortable and unbearable, while also taking on a different characteristic all together, one that has blood rushing beneath your skin, clit rubbing against the front of your pulled tight thong uncomfortably, not enough contact or pressure to do anything, but enough to drive you insane. You blink, trying to keep yourself together, trying to prevent floating away into space somewhere.
"Sir!" You pant, and he laughs, shadow of a hand swinging through the air, landing against you with a resounding crack.
"Tell me. Why did ye lie?"
"I-" You scramble for an answer. Why did you lie? Why didn't you just say the truth, the facts. What you knew, without a doubt. Why did you lie? "I was scared."
"Of what?"
"Of... of the room. Of making a mistake."
"But ye didnae make a mistake. Ye found a needle in a haystack." You nod. He's right, you did. "So the next time I ask ye how confident ye are, ye say one hundred. Ye tell everyone in that room, that ye did something other people can't, and ye own it."
"Y-yes sir." You whisper, and he runs a palm over the screaming skin of your ass.
"Good girl." He murmurs, your lower lip trembling. "Ye did good for me. So good."
"Thank you." You sniffle, and he shifts your body, lowering you to your knees in front of the chair, pants bunched under your bones like a little cushion.
"Sir?" You ask, confused as he pats your cheek, bending to press a long, hot kiss to your mouth, fingertips stroking across your pussy, overtop your underwear, before pulling back with a devilish smirk.
“Open.” He instructs, and your eyes widen. “Not goin’ tell ye again, sweet Cy. Open. Now.” You do, lips parting, mouth cranking wide, and he removes his fingers, hand drifting to his pants. Oh, fuck.
If your mouth wasn’t already hanging open, it would have dropped to the floor when he pulled his cock free. It’s long, long enough that it’s intimidating, and thick, probably as wide as your wrist, flushed red at the tip. There’s a bead of pre come dripping from the head, cozy crop of brown curls at the base.
“S-s-sir.” You squeak, and he smiles, cupping the back of your head as he taps your lips with it. "It won't- I can't, it's too-"
"I'll teach ye." He grunts, feeding you his cock slowly, tears falling down over your cheeks when he presses it into the back of your throat, as much as you can go, not even to the root yet. "That's it. Jus' like that, easy." He uses your mouth, your face, hand firm on the back of your head, stroking in and out between your lips until they go numb, faster and faster until you believe you might pass out, cock head jamming down past your tongue, blocking your airway with each thrust. You think you might black out. You could be blacked out right now, and not even know. You're not positive you're still in your body, the body with a sore, stinging ass, wet pussy, and occupied mouth, your Sergeant using you as he sees fit, determined to possess you like some sort of demon. You gag on him, throat seizing, and he pushes through it, bound and determined, your name a ragged whisper whistling through his teeth. "Fuck, swallow it. Dinnae lose a drop." He grits, and then plunges all the way, flooding you with sticky, sour salted earth that pours down your throat, hot come dripping down into your stomach.
You sit there, on your knees, after, stunned, unmoving. He shifts around you, pulling your pants up, fixing your hair, wiping your face. He's speaking to you too, murmuring soft words in your ear, lips touching your cheek, your temple, something about how good you are, how sweet, how he's not going to let anything happen to you, how you don't have to worry, because he's here now- and you slip into it like you're falling into your bed, closing your eyes and drifting away, melting into his side when he gathers you up, cradles you against his chest.
"C'mon sweet Cy. Let's get ye to bed."
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luvyeni · 1 year
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jeongin request!
hanging out with jeongin and the rest of the boys at the dorms. the boys start to baby him to embarrass him in front of you. you start to tease too only for him to drag you to his room and rearrange your guts, making you loud enough for the members to hear. yup, thats it lol.
LOUDER; YANG JEONGIN
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pairings. meandom!jeongin x fem!reader
wc. 992
warnings. choking, degradation, facefucking, unprotected sex, squirting.
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hug me was playing when i wrote this, i am in shambles i love this trope of pissing jeongin off and then having him fuck you stupid.
jeongin showing you what happens when you act out your place.
"jeongin be serious who wears the pants in your relationship?" jisung's question made everyone turn to the boy, his face turned red from the sudden question, they had been teasing him all day, pinching his cheeks, baby talking him, asking him inappropriate questions, like right now. "w..why do you need to know?"
"jisung don't be stupid, it's obviously _." seungmin said, making your eyebrows quirked up as you sat in your boyfriends lap, boy was he wrong, there was no dom bone in your body, jeongin made you ride him once and you almost cried.
"no way our innie could be a dom." jeongin was no longer embarrassed, but he slowly was growing angry, there's no way in hell you look like a dom to them. "she probably pegs him." this caused the room to erupt into laughter.
you didn't mean to laugh, you really didn't mean to it just came out, but they took it as a conformation. "she does!"
chan finally chimed in. "okay guys, that's enough, let's stop with the sex talk, what they do in the bedroom is none of your business, change the subject."
jeongin stared you down, you turned to him feeling his icy stare on your neck. "fucking room, now." he whispered in a low tone, venom laced in his voice, that made you get up and quickly make your way to his room...you just had to laugh at seungmin's stupid joke, now you're really gonna pay for it.
"you really think you can dom me?" jeongin had you pressed against his room door, his hand wrapped around your neck, pressing down lightly. "answer me." you shook your head. "n..no."
"then what the fuck was funny about seungmin's joke?" he let his hand hang loosely around your throat, letting you speak. "i didn't mean to." he scoffed. "of course you didn't." you knew he was being sarcastic.
"if you really think you can dom me, here's chance, tell me and i'll let you" you quickly shook your head at the horror of trying to do that. "no, i don't want to, please." he smirked.
"that's right, now get on your knees like the good slut i know you are." it was pathetic how fast you got down on the floor, but you didn't care, you wanted him. "should i take a picture, send it to them, show them how fast you get on your knees for me ." he unbuckled his pants, letting them fall to his ankles, pulling his cock out jerking himself off until he got hard.
"open your fucking mouth." he smacked his cock against your cheek, pushing himself through your slowly parting lips. "f..fuck, suck me off slut." you began to bob your head up and down his shaft, wrapping your hand around what you couldn't fit in your mouth.
"if i wanted you to jerk me off, i would've told you, can't do anything right." he slapped your hands off his cock, grabbing your hair, signaling he was going fuck your face. "listen next time slut." he pushed your head down until your nose touched his pubic bone, holding it until down, doing this a few times before thrusting against your face, your gagging and throat tightening around his cock egging him on.
"fuck! that's right slut, take my cock down your throat." he groaned. "im gonna cum, shit." he held your head down one more time, while he painted the back of your throat white. "f..fuck." he slapped his tip against your lips. "swallow." you obeyed, licking your lips of any extra. "good girl." he picked you up, basically throwing you on to his bed.
"ass up." he stepped out of his pants, getting on the bed behind you. "look at this, soaked." he pulled your panties down. "don't even need to prep you, your dripping down your fucking leg, that's how wet your little pussy is." he slapped your ass, making you yelp.
"yup, that's how loud i want you to scream when im fucking my cock into your tiny pussy." he pressed his tip against your heat. "let them hear how much a slut you are for me." he fully pushed his cock inside you. "jeongin fuck!" you screamed, not matter how rough he was being, he always started off slow, so this was different. "too much!"
"fucking take it!" he pulled out, slamming back again, you let out another almost pornographic moan. "fucking louder, let them hear you." his hips snapped repeatedly against yours, as you just scream and moan his name. "that's right, scream for me love, let them hear how much of a dom you are." he hissed. "shit."
you were a mess, you knew they were just outside, but that didn't stop jeongin from being as loud as he could. "you're clenching my dick pretty hard, you're gonna make a mess on my cock aren't you baby." he hit a specific spot that had you seeing stars. "jeongin, i..i feel- do it, make a mess." he didn't slow down his thrust.
"fuck!" you let out a scream that probably would warrant a wellness check, as you came hard. "oh fuck." he still didn't slow his thrust down, it wasn't until he was about to cum that his thrust slowed down. "take my cum." he painted your walls, his stomach pressed against your back as he kissed your shoulders softly. "shit."
"you fucking squirted."
"i didn't mean to go so rough." he helped you clean up. "i just was upset that they kept teasing, i should've taken it out on you." he rubbed your hip. "innie." you hushed him with a kiss. "i'm, besides it was hot." he smirked. "really, then should we go again?" he was about to pull you into another kiss when someone banged on the door.
"absolutely fucking not, if you're gonna go at it like fucking wild animals, go to her house, instead of traumatizing the entire dorm."
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©️LUVYENI
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nolita-fairytale · 10 months
Text
burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter eight
summary: you and luca pick up where you left off a week ago.
warnings: fluff, smut (18+ only), literally just p*rn FOR the plot. big note on consent: there is protected (then sort of) unprotected sex in this chapter. the biggest point i'd like to make here is that both characters consent to both kinds and have a very open and honest conversation about it which, if you take away anything from this chapter, it's PLEASE HAVE HONEST CONVERSATIONS WITH THE PEOPLE YOU'RE SLEEPING WITH FOR EVERYONE'S SAFETY. ok rant over.
word count: 4.9k
listen to: the official 'burn your life down' playlist
a/n: another busy week ahead of me so I wanted to get this out here ASAP, but most likely won't be able to get the following chapter out for a bit. obviously, we don't know what happens w/ marcus' mom, but in this world, she doesn't die opening night of The Bear.
on another note: you guys are seriously the best and leave the sweetest and most excited comments/reblogs. i seriously love it when you guys scream at me in gifs/memes/all caps. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.
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part seven | masterlist | part nine
“Yeah uh, everything’s been goin’ good. I think Carm’s still trying to deal with everything that happened since opening – I don’t know if you heard but – but… it’s been good,” Marcus says over his FaceTime call with his mentor. 
“No, I hadn’t. Eh, haven’t talked to him much since before you visited,” Luca answers, hesitant to ask about what happened during that first night. 
“Got locked in the fridge and kinda lost it but… he’s doin’ okay,” Marcus explains, summing up the events of The Bear’s friends and family night. 
“How are you doing? How’s your mum?” Luca asks, changing the subject from Carmen to his mentee. 
He’s had more contact with Marcus – knows more of what’s going on in Marcus’ life than Carmen’s for a bit now – and Luca wants to make sure he’s being a good friend to him, considering he’d heard about Marcus’ mom’s emergency the night of The Bear’s friends and family night. 
“She’s hangin’ on but… it’s not lookin’ great. It’s hard, man. I’m… doin’ the best I can,” Marcus admits, solemnly. 
“I can only imagine,” Luca empathizes, because he can’t bear the thought of losing his own mum. 
“But uh… anyways, what’s up? What’s new with you?” Marcus asks, his voice much more energetic from the prospect of changing the subject. 
“You sure you want to hear about me?” Luca hesitates cautiously. 
“Yeah, man,” Marcus agrees. Luca can hear something so sure in his voice, as if Marcus is in dire need of a distraction – to talk about anything but his sick mom. “Shit. I’d love to hear about someone else’s drama for once,”
Luca chuckles softly, his voice light as he replies, “No drama on my end. Though. Ehm… I met a girl. I actually kinda have you to thank for it, mate.” 
“What do you mean?” Marcus questions. 
“Well. All that talk about inspiration…” Luca says, thinking about how what he’s just makes sense. 
“... you know, about being open to things outside the kitchen…. After you left, it made me realize that it’d be a while since I’d taken my own advice. Got stuck on a menu, went out for inspiration, and, well you know what they say: the rest is history.”
He knows it’s not as simple as that, but it seems like Marcus needs a little good news right now. 
“Oh shit! How’s that going?” Marcus asks, his tone much lighter now. 
“I’m positively chuffed, mate,” Luca chuckles, unable to hide the i’m-very-much-enamored smile that spreads across his face.
“The fuck does that even mean, man?” Marcus teases with a laugh at the oh-so-posh-sounding expression. 
Luca laughs again before explaining, “It means I'm pretty damn smitten.” 
“Shit,” Marcus sighs. 
He can see it all over his face as he continues to see his mentor. 
“You’re a goner, man.”
-------------------------------
Luca walks you home this Saturday evening after his regular dinner date at your restaurant. While you had a steady flow of business tonight, Mathilde and the rest of your kitchen staff made it a point to rally so that you could join him for a bit. It’s been a week since your unplanned sleepover with Luca (and your pleasantly surprising sexy morning after), and you haven’t stopped thinking about it. 
Haven’t stopped thinking about him:
The way he called you ‘love.’ The way he watched you fall apart with the most pleased look on his face. The way his fingers felt inside of you. 
“Luca,” you begin. 
The two of you stand across from one another, at a crossroads. The night could end here. You could say your goodbyes, give him a goodnight kiss, and go your separate ways, but that’s far from the option you’d prefer.
“Yes, love?” he asks you, as if he’s waiting for you to ask first.
There it is again. 
Love. 
Your eyes flicker from the cobblestone streets then back up to him as you the words fall out of your mouth:
“Do you… wanna come up?” 
Something flashes across Luca’s face as he opens mouth to say something, pausing for a moment before answering, as if it’s an agreement to what you’re really asking, an ever-so confident,
“Yes.” 
You smile, take a breath, then grab his hand as you turn towards the door to your building. As Luca follows you, the only sound between the two of you are your footsteps as you make your way up the stairs. The tension between you is thick, the anticipation of what happens next palpable, that takes shape as a pregnant silence. Luca is more-than-patient as you unlock your door, welcoming him into your home once again, before locking your front door behind you. He’s busy removing his shoes as you giggle, taking yours off as well. 
Once both of you are barefoot, you reach for him, pulling him towards you so that he towers over you, your back pressed against the front door once again. 
“This feels… eerily familiar,” Luca jokes softly, so close to kissing you that it hurts. 
“Yeah,” you agree, under your breath. This is exactly where he had you a week ago, before you both decided not to do the thing you were about to do. “Think you might wanna… pick up where we left off? Now that neither of us are plastered?”
Luca waits a beat, leaning in and ghosting his lips over yours, causing you to gasp in response to his teasing. 
“Do you?” he asks, his voice steady.
He wants to know that you’re sure. Wants to know that you want this as much as him. That you haven’t stopped thinking about the other day when he watched you fall apart on his fingers and how it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. 
“Yes,” you answer, your voice unwavering. 
He swears under his breath before his mouth is on yours, kissing you so deeply that your head spins. You make a mental note to tell him later how absolutely perfect his lips are – how deliciously plump they are, how they feel perfect against yours, how talented they are. You kiss him back, allowing him to steal the air from your lungs as he does it, crowding you up against your front door. 
Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you. You push your body against his, surprised at how steady his hands are, while yours feel so desperate, so frenzied, when he reaches for you. 
His hands are all over you, leaving confident, strong touches all over your body: pulling you in closer to him by your hips, stroking up and down your back, sliding underneath the hem of your shirt like he’s already done this with you a thousand times before. With his hands already underneath your shirt, exploring new territory, and his mouth leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck, his name leaves your lips like something between a sigh and a moan. 
He hums in response, pulling back for a moment. Your heart skips as a beath, as blue eyes lock with yours in a heated, lust-filled standoff. 
“Come with me,” you whisper, causing Luca to move aside, letting you lead him towards your bedroom. 
On the way there, you flip a hallway light on so that you can at least see where you’re going. You feel his fingers tangle with yours as he grabs your hand, his heart pounding in his chest. As soon as you reach your bedroom, you sit him down on your neatly-made bed, before turning on a small, soft, golden lamp that feels like candlelight. 
It’s just enough – more of a nightlight than a lamp, really.
You approach him without a word, and Luca marvels at you. You’re a sight for sore eyes: your hair messy from the heated makeout against your front door, your lips kiss-swollen from the fact that he can barely keep his hands, let alone his mouth off of you, your pupils blow wide with desire for him and only him. You pull your shirt over your head as you climb on to his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck as you press a searing kiss to his lips. 
“My god,” he murmurs, his hands coming up to meet the newly exposed skin. You settle into his lap, pressing your hips against his, arching your back into him in response to each touch. “You are so incredibly beautiful.”
You giggle before thanking him.
“Yeah, and I know that you know you’re hot,” you tease him in between kisses, because the man must know what he looks like, right? Luca mutters something about how he wasn’t trying to solicit a compliment from you as he lays back on your bed, taking you with him.
His hands hungrily grab at exposed flesh: the sides of your back, your breasts, the straps of your bra, just to pull them down enough to think he’s going to take it off. Impatiently, you grind your hips against where a tent in his pants has begun to form, earning a moan from his lips as he bucks his hips up to meet your clothed core. 
“We should um-,” you start, already so turned on by the way Luca’s body moves against yours that you think you should bring this up sooner rather than later. “Things we should talk about….”
“Yes, my love?” Luca asks, grinding against you again. 
You moan in response, throwing your head back as you giggle, knowing that he’s teasing you – testing your patience. 
You settle down, just for a moment, both hands going to his well-toned chest. Luca’s hands still around your hips as you say:
“I have condoms. In my nightstand. And I’m also on the pill. I… just got back on it.” 
Just got back on it when you started seeing him – you know, just in case this became a thing. 
“I haven’t been tested since my yearly physical which was… almost a year ago… but I also haven’t exactly been having sex so,” you add, your eyes flickering away for just a moment before returning to Luca’s very blue ones. 
“That’s very sexy,” he smiles up at you, his hands softly stroking your hips. 
“What?” you ask with a giggle, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you shoot him a quizzical look. 
“This… very direct communication,” he replies with a smirk, grinding his hips back up into yours again. 
“Luca!” you squeal in response, catching yourself against him so that you don’t lose your balance. 
He grins before answering, “My last test was three months ago at my yearly physical. Clean bill of health.” He pauses before saying the next thing. 
“And I’m not seeing anyone else.”
You nod, leaning down to kiss him in understanding, “Okay.”
“Okay,” he replies, bringing you down once more for another passionate makeout. 
Luca is right. It’s an even bigger turn on, the open communication, and now that you’ve gotten that conversation out of the way, you’re ready to dive in head first to exactly where you hope this is going. Getting undressed is a sexy, dreamy blur. You’re practically tearing Luca’s shirt over his head, unable to hide the fact that your jaw is near-on the floor as you take it in the hard planes of his abdomen. He expertly removes your bra, and before you know it, he’s gotten you onto your back, and you’re kicking your pants off to the bottom of the bed. 
Luca pins both of your hands to the bed overhead with one of his hands – his fingers laced with some of yours as he holds them in place – while his other hand once again makes its way between your legs. You gasp in anticipation, unable to stop the confession that comes out of your mouth. 
“I haven’t stopped thinking about that. About you. All week,” you whisper, eager to have him touch you again. 
“That so?” Luca asks cockily, in between kisses. 
“Yes,” you gasp, squirming underneath your touch as two his fingers dance over your clothed core. 
From the wetness pooling between your legs up to your clit, the way he touches you sets off sparks all over your body. You pant, unable to think straight as Luca pulls your pantied aside, his fingertips meeting your wetness immediately. He moans in response to this discovery, his forehead pressed against yours, and you cry out when he finally gives you what you’ve been begging for, as he slips a finger into you. 
“Luca,” you sigh, like you’ve gotten the only thing that could remedy your restlessness as of late. 
Luca kisses you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth for a millionth time tonight as he begins sliding his finger in and out of you. 
“You’re so wet, love,” he coos, teasingly, into your mouth. “It’s too easy. The way my fingers slide in and out of you.” He pushes another finger into you, beginning to stretch you again at a deliciously slow pace. “You want me this much?”
And all you can do is moan, arch your back in response to the pleasure he brings you, his hand keeping both of yours above your head while he has you at his mercy. 
“So good,” you cry, as you breathe heavily. “So good. It feels-. Fuck.” 
He chuckles cruelly, breaking the kiss between you as he pulls his fingers from you. You whimper in response, impatiently, greedily. The man has you under a sexual spell and you could care less about anything else right now. 
“I already know how you feel about my fingers. Think I should give you my mouth too, hm?” he rasps, his question anything but rhetorical. 
Luca releases your hands that he’s pinned to the mattress, beginning to kiss down your jaw, your neck, your bare torso, pausing to take each of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flickering across them like it’s a goddamn preview. 
“I need to hear you say it,” he commands, his voice quiet yet dominant. Luca pauses, his journey south, leaving hot, open mouthed kisses across your belly as he looks up at you with piercing blue eyes. 
“D’you want my mouth? Will you let me taste you?” 
“Please,” you’re too quick, too eager to respond when you’re looking down at him, looking down at the sight before you. 
Without hesitation, Luca tears your panties down your legs, impatiently tossing them behind him. He begins kissing the inside of your right thigh, alternating between soft kisses, and gentle love bites that have you squealing in delight. You let out soft moans in anticipation, sure that whatever happens next will bring you to an early grave. 
A hiss in pleasure escapes your lips as you feel the heat of his breath fan over you, but before your brain can even catch up, Luca’s licking a broad stripe up your core, parting you open for him and only him. 
You cry out, your head thrown back as he buries his face between your legs, tracing fierce abstract shapes over your clit. He moans against you, the vibrations too much as you surrender to him. He alternated between sucking and licking, and it’s not till he’s pushing two fingers back into you that your hands are grasping at the sheets, grabbing at the back of his head as your body writhes in pleasure. 
You can feel it, that spark so deep in your belly, the coil that winds itself so tightly that the only thing it can do to relieve any tension is to snap. 
“Luca. I’m gonna cum,” you beg him, a desperate whine in your voice. “Please don’t stop.” 
He doesn’t. It’s as if he couldn’t bear the thought of it – like he could never be cruel enough to deny you what you’re asking for when your voice sounds so sweet, so desperate, so on fire for him.
Using his fingers and his mouth in tandem, he’s relentless in bringing you to your climax, so determined to keep his name on your lips with every gasp, moan, and exhale.
And god, does he love the way it sounds: when you’re moaning it, when you’re begging him not to stop, when you make it sound like a symphony – like he’s just created a goddamn masterpiece. 
He’s left you breathless, and all you can do is breathe, allowing your brain to catch up with the pleasure your body has just experienced. Luca makes his way back up to you before pressing a searing kiss to your lips. You can taste yourself on his lips, and you have no intention of stopping now. 
You can feel the weight of him as he folds his body over yours. Curious hands begin to move as you become more and more interested in exploring Luca’s body. His muscles flex underneath your fingertips as a reminder of the sheer strength of the man above you. Luca groans as you cup him over his pants, before you begin to undo his pants.
“Do you… want to grab a condom?” he asks softly. 
You pause, your hands to meet his gaze with your own. 
“Uh.. yeah,” you reply. You had every intention of returning the favor, but perhaps that’s something you’ll save for tomorrow. “Let me just um….” 
You sit up, and Luca pulls back, kneeling on the bed as he finishes the job, undoing the button on his pants as you open your nightstand to grab a condom. You place the condom down on the bed next to you, before laying down, your legs spread enough so that Luca can settle between them as you watch him slide his pants and briefs down over his erection. 
Holy. Shit. 
The man’s an adonis. 
And…
Well, you know you shouldn’t be surprised. 
He’s 6’ 3” for godssake. 
But as you see his cock standing tall, hard, precum leaking from the tip, you’re glad you’ve had quite the night of foreplay so far, especially since it’s been a while since you’ve taken a lover. Instead of hesitating, you sit up just for a moment so that you can pull him over you, pulling Luca down to you for a kiss. He’s quick to respond, using one tatted hand to cradle the back of your head, deepening the kiss as he lays over you once again. 
Your right hand makes it way between you, beginning to stroke him, earning a hiss of pleasure from Luca as you wrap your hand around his thick length. He bucks into your hand and you stroke up and down his erection a few times before guiding him towards you, allowing him to use your slick as lubricant as the two of you grind against each. 
You know you should do the responsible thing, but you can’t help wondering what it would feel like too. But there’s time for that. Another time for that… 
As if he’s read your mind, Luca grabs the condom next to you, before sitting up. He carefully rips open the foil packet before tossing it somewhere on the floor, giving both hands the freedom to slide the latex over his hard on. And then he’s back on you, folding his body over yours as you make room for him between your legs, pressing the gentlest kiss to your lips. 
“You sure you want to do this?” he asks, and you think you’ll melt with how damn considerate he is. 
“Yes, baby,” you whisper back, it being the first time you’ve called him that. “Yes.” 
With your ‘yes’ Luca reaches down, pressing his thick tip against your opening, then begins to push in. You both gasp at the contact as he holds your gaze, and you feel the slightest pinch as he stretches you open. Luca caresses the side of your face, watching you for any sign, any kind of reaction that you’d want to stop. He keeps his eyes on you, pushing deeper, and then deeper, till he bottoms out.
Leaning his forehead against yours as he pauses, he’s got to focus on not cumming right then and there. 
“Fuck. You feel so fucking good,” he exhales, letting the way you feel take over him. You’re all warm, wet, pulsing heat and it feels too fucking good. 
You give yourself a moment to adjust to his size, before beginning to give him a few experimental movements, grinding your hips where the two of you are connected. Without having to say a word, Luca understands, dragging his hard length out of you at an unbearably slow pace, before pushing back into you, eliciting moans from the both of you this time. 
“Do that again,” you murmur, your eyes fluttering close and you focus on the delicious drag of his cock. 
He does it again, this time thrusting a little bit harder into you, causing you to moan a little louder this time. His mouth is back on yours as he begins to set a rhythm, thrusting in and out of you while you meet his hips with yours, rocking against him at a pace that matches. It’s as if Luca’s begun to map out your body, wanting to memorize every little thing that makes you tick, that makes you scream, causes you to grasp at any grabbable surface – the sheets, his hair, his back. 
His mouth is back on yours, swallowing your moans as he continues to fuck you. You’ve settled into a rhythm that feels just right – something that you can get completely lost in. It could be minutes, hours, days that you’ve been here, chasing mutual pleasure, wrapped up in each other’s arms like you need it to breathe. The way he moves against you is strong, yet gentle as Luca makes love to you, whispering the filthiest things into your mouth, into your ears, the soft canvas of your skin, as if he’s engraving them in stone.
You take me so well. So fucking pretty like this. My beautiful girl. 
“Luca,” you gasp, as he gives you a particularly euphoric thrust. 
“Hm?” he hums in response. 
“Let me ride you,” you request, your eyelids heavy as he stays close to you. 
“Yeah?” he asks you, one expressive eyebrow raising up. 
“Yeah,” you nod. 
Luca kisses you deeply before pausing, pulling out of you and rolling over onto his back. He thinks he’s died and gone to heaven as he watches you climb on top of him, your disheveled sex hair and desire to fuck him seem to awaken something primal in him. As you hover over him, your knees framing his hips, you line yourself up with him before taking him once again. 
Luca groans, letting his hands trace gentle patterns up and down your body – his hands smooth over your ass and caress your breasts, as calloused fingertips drag across your stomach, your shoulders, your ribcage – as if he's writing a love letter against your skin. 
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says, his voice low and gravelly. 
He moans, closing his eyes as you begin moving your hips over him, forward and back, beginning to ride him like you’d asked to earlier. Large hands make their way to your hips, as you continue your movements, this time leaning down to kiss him. Luca moans into your mouth as your tongues tangle together, your hips never ceasing their grind against him. 
It feels too good. 
You feel too good.
You break the kiss this time, placing your hands on Luca’s chest for leverage as you begin to speed up your pace, letting out a moan as you fuck yourself on your lover. Back arched, hair messy, and your head thrown back, you’re completely lost in the way that he feels inside of you. 
“Look at you,” Luca marvels, hands everywhere as you bring yourself closer to your second orgasm of the night. “My god, love.” 
And before you know it, Luca’s sitting up, sitting tall, wrapping one of his long arms around your torso while the other braces against the bed behind him. He’s thrusting his hips up into you, his hand moving to the small of your back to keep you in perfect harmony with him. The way he hits the back of you with each thrust, how deep he is, how good it feels has you so, so close for the second time tonight. You cry out in response to a particularly hard thrust as your body slumps, resting your forehead against Luca’s shoulder. 
You are no longer in control. It’s funny really – and sweet – that he let you think even for a second that you could be. But when he’s bouncing you up and down like this over his hard length, thrusts becoming more erratic, more chaotic, sloppier, you have no choice but to surrender to him. You hold onto his back and his shoulders for dear life as he fucks up into you and you can tell he’s close too. 
“God, you’re so good. You’re so fucking good at this,” you whine, all nerves, and explosive pleasure behind your admission. 
“I’m close. Baby, are you-?” Luca struggles to get out, the tension in his brow telling you everything you need to know. 
“Yes. Harder. Fuck. I’m gonna cum,” you sob, sure that your neighbors will send you the dirtiest or looks when you run into them in the hallway tomorrow. 
You cry out as his fingers return to your clit, rubbing hasty circles against you in an effort to take you there with him. All you can do is moan as you busy your mouth with leaving kisses and love bites against his shoulders and chest. 
It’s somehow too much and not enough all at once as your orgasm rips through you, your entire body contracting against his. You bite down on Luca’s shoulder, and you think the pain and pleasure combined is what gets him across the finish line as he fucks you through your climax. Before you can properly come down, it’s one, two, and then a third hard thrust up into you before he lets out a primal grunt, pressing your hips down hard against his. 
Luca stills inside of you, panting as the ripples of pleasure course through his body, his ears ringing from how hard he came. His eyes meet yours, and he chuckles, moving a piece of hair from your face before tucking it behind your ear. 
“Hi,” he smiles, watching you carefully. 
“How ya doin?” you ask him, teasingly. 
He shakes his head with a laugh before pulling you towards him so that he can kiss you once again. 
“I’m great,” he answers, in between kisses. 
“Me too,” you agree as your lips curl into a smile against his. You press one more kiss to his lips before pulling back. As you climb off of his lap, allowing him to slip out of you, the two of you hit the mattress like you’ve just run a marathon. 
“Come here, love,” he says, encouraging you closer to him. 
More than happy to oblige, you curl up to his side, one of your legs wrapping around his as you lay on your side. You giggle, settling into the softness of moment, pressed up against the guy that just fucked your brains out. 
“What?” he asks, in regards to your laugh. 
“I just-,” you start, before giggling again. “That was really hot.”
Luca gives you a comforting squeeze, hugging you closer to him as you relax even further into his body. 
“Yeah it was,” he agrees, a grin spreading across his lips. 
He looks over at you to see that you’re on your way to being fast asleep. You’ve closed your eyes, so perfectly tucked underneath his arm as you rest against his body. Luca places a gentle kiss on top of your head as he grins to himself again. He’s not sure what to call it – this thing he’s feeling – because it’s too soon to call it anything, but whatever it is, he knows that his friend was right: 
He’s a goner. 
-------------------------------
Luca doesn’t know what he did in a past life to deserve this, but as he watches you take him into your mouth, he knows he must’ve done something right. Your name escapes his lips like a prayer as you spend your morning going down on him, completely incapable of ignoring the hard-on you woke up to minutes ago.
You’d promptly pushed him onto his back before asking if you could. 
And who was he to say no?
“Shit,” he hisses, as your tongue runs over the head of his hard, leaking cock.
“Wait, just-. I don’t want to cum yet. I-,” Luca stammers out, using all of his self control not to cum in your mouth right then and there. “I want to fuck you again.” 
His words shoot straight to your core as you release him, climbing back over his body and letting him roll you onto your back. 
“Do you want me to grab a condom?” he asks you, nipping at your jaw as his fingers discover that you’re already ready for him. 
His words from last night echo in your head: 
And I’m not seeing anyone else. 
“No,” you say, immediately searching his face for some kind of negative reaction. “Is that okay?” 
He nods, one side of his mouth turns up into that crooked smile that makes your heart race. 
“Fuck,” he rasps, his head spinning as he lines himself up with your entrance, beginning to push in. 
“Of course it is, love.”
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sunnycanvas · 2 months
Note
Hi can I request a part 2 for unfaithful baldwin where he regrets or the reader escapes?
Find her! Find her!
Baldwin IV screamed at the top of his lungs. He was sweating so much. His beautiful blonde hair was drenched in sweat. His eyes wide in fear and shock. Baldwin IV quickly shifted his hair back by his hand as he screamed in his thunderous voice. "What are you doing, does it take so much time to follow my orders"? Knights assembled quickly in front of the king. Shocked at such furious face. Baldwin IV was known to have strong mind and great courage. It's unlikely to see him furious. He manages to remain calm in most tense situations. The knights assembled in front of the king confused. The king's mistress was surprised as well. She slowly approached her beloved but kept safe distance. Last thing she wanted for her to get scolded as well.
"Your queen consort is missing" "Which one of you helped her escape" "Tell me now and I will spare you"
The knights trembled in fear not knowing what to respond. For the queen consort to go missing. Especially when they were given strict orders to keep continuous watch on her was not going to go well for them. Nobody dared to speak up and Baldwin IV 's mistress watched everything astonished. Even she didn't think the queen will be able to escape. "Helping her escape is a crime against crown" "I will investigate the person who helped her escape" "The person will not only be punished but their family as well as people who shares their nearest blood kin with them will suffer as well". "This fate can be avoided if you admit right now which one of you helped her escape and where she might be, right now". The whole hall grew quite and King Baldwin IV waited patiently for an answer. The hall became so quiet that one could easily hear the sound of water dripping. King Baldwin IV waited patiently as time went by his face became redder and his eyes grew colder. The king's mistress couldn't help but think if (Y/N) is found by the king. She will never be able to have same relationship as before with the king. "Baldwin IV is sensitive about his honour" "I know that he is not only upset about her escaping due to personal reasons but also about his honour as well ". She knew the king despite the love he shared for his queen won't be happy about people gossiping or perhaps mocking him that he can't control his wife. "This has taken a huge blow on him" "He has been possesive and careful when it came to her" "Ever since she caught us the king knew she would try to escape". "Nobody thought she would be successful though"
"Quick get the horses ready we will find the queen, I will personally lead the search". Baldwin IV repeated last words with so much venom that it sent shiver across everyone's spine Baldwin IV 's mistress although scared was shocked at sudden proposal ran towards the king forgetting about gravity of the situation. "Your majesty you recently caught another disease" "It won't be good for your health" . Baldwin IV raised his hand up indicating "Stop". The mistress grew quite. She quickly composed herself and said "My apologise your Grace" "As your humble subject I should have been more careful" .
"Who let a woman in knights meeting"
The mistress was shocked since Baldwin IV has never spoken to her like that, "My apologise my lord I will leave right away"
"Make sure you do, it seems like the palace has been lenient when it comes to security". The mistress didn't say anything and quietly left plotting her revenge when the queen is found. "I will ensure to win him back and make the queen's position so poor that she will seem invisible in palace"
"Gaurds, prepare the horses and ensure to send message to nearby Kingdoms as well" "Repeat the same message I gave you today to them as well"
Meanwhile:
"Thank you so much". I bowed against lady Sybilla the wife of King Bohemond III of Antioch I remember one of the Muslim sources mentioned her as Muslim spy but I never thought that it would be true. "No need to thank me" she replied with poisonous smile. "Just ensure not to get caught, erase all your traces" "In case you do, don't tell them who helped you". I asked her again doubtful "King Bohemond III of Antioch doesn't know, does he?".
"No he doesn't" she replied. "Now leave" "Your and mine journey ends here"." Leave as fast as you can, we have so less time right now" I smiled again and bowed one last time before I left in disguise looking for time portal. It took me some time until I finally reached my destination. "This has to be it" I thought as I looked at the place. Hopefully my calculations are correct. I need to hurry before I am caught or else my life will be over. Baldwin IV will be even harsher about guarding me but before that, I shuddered as I thought of his face red in anger. His eyes wide and cold and his teeth gritting. "Worst he can do is severely scolding and lot more restriction. I quickly dismissed myself of these pessimistic thoughts and went back thinking about my original plan . Based on my calculation time portal must be here. Time portal should open inside this river right now.
(Y/N)!!!
I froze. No! No! No! Why now?! Does universe really hate me so much. I could see the king, my husband with group of knights "Gaurds quickly stop the queen". Seeing them approaching I started running as far as I could, of course I was not match for trained knights with horses. I could hear my husband pleading"(Y/N) please don't jump" "Killing yourself will lead to enternal damnation in hell" "Your body won't be buried" "You won't be accepted by church". "Come back to me and I will forgive you". Angry I yelled at my husband "I hate you" "I will rather go into damnation of hell than being with you" "You killed whatever we had because of your adultery" My husband stopped at looking back at me shocked and hurt "(Y/N)"
Later:
"You mean to tell me that the queen jumped in river in front of everyone and was never found".
"Indeed my lady" replied the knight who secretly acted as spy for lady sybilla of Antioch. Sybilla laughed joyfully and said "In front of king as well" "How did the king react". The knight snickered and said "He later jumped in river as well when nobody was able to find her". "The king kept on trying to find the queen" "Finally he was physically retrainsed by his knights" "Everyone has accepted that the queen drowned in sorrow".
"After that" Lady sybilla of Antioch smiled like a excited child. The knight gleamed in joy and said "The king looked mentally dead when we arrived back" "He didn't say anything much" "Later he blamed his mistress saying that she was the one who seduced him" "That it was her fault this happened"
Lady sybilla nodded with joy and said "The king is known to be mentally strong" " Even when he first learned of his disease he was calm and accepting about it". Lady sybilla smiled again saying "That girl gave me more than I was expecting". "Soon Jerusalem will be ours"
Back to our time:
I was found in dead of night by station master near the railway tracks. I was drenched in water. I was asked questions but I could barely say anything in state of shock. I later was admitted to hospital. Soon I was discharged and left for home. Once I came back home.I was happy to wear my cozy clothes. "Finally, it's all over" I took my IPad and sat on my sofa surfing the web. I was curious about how events played out after I left. I did quick Google search and found out:
"King Baldwin IV ensured the gaurds kept close eye on Queen consort (Y/N) of Jerusalem after she found the king with his mistress. She was monitored all the time. Queen (Y/N) was able to escape though. Nobody knows how she was able to escape. Not even most researched historian of crusades can tell. Some historian have suggested that Raymond, count of Tripoli helped her with a maid acting as her spy to escape. While some suggested king Bohemond III of Antioch bribed some church members to help her escape but nobody knows for sure. The king went into his deep sorrow. His disease got infected worse because of swimming in contaminated water. We know now that he suffered with dysentery and swimming made it worse. The loss of queen affected his reign. The king reign was no doubt affected because of loss of his queen.....
I read further and realised how mistress was shunned. How her seduction was blamed and how Baldwin IV was thought to be king easily manipulated until recently rest all events went same with princess sybilla. "Yes, he is not a man to be manipulated" I thought Although unlike before Jerusalem did have quite a few losses like never before, I read further was able to find "Although king died of natural causes his body was never found". This last line seemed suspicious to me. "Wait.. wasn't he buried but his bones later removed from tomb in the late 12th-13th century after the recapture by the Ayyubid dynasty". I had a bad feeling about this, something isn't right
"Ma, Cherie" I froze. "Please not again". I turned around fearful and saw my king behind me looking sickly. "You shouldn't question my sense of duty" "I knew it I could find you ". I gulped in fear. "What did I get myself into" I thought
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aewinty · 9 months
Text
The way you heal me
Wednesday Addams x fem reader
Playlist
Part 1
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You stormed out of Wednesday and Enid’s dorm, footsteps leaving a trail of desolation in his wake. If your tears weren’t flowing before, they definitely were now. You swung open the door to your dorm, quietly hoping your room safe wasn’t around to see you in your current state. Your request was fulfilled as she was nowhere in sight.
Flinging yourself on your bed was a bad idea - Wednesday’s scent still lingered on the sheets from the night before; a thought that urged more tears to spill. A quiet knock resounded from the door; one in which you ignored. If they really needed you they could send you a voice message on your phone. But they never left - the knocks persisted as you attempted to block out the noise with music in the background.
Grumbling, you stood up and pulled the door open to reveal Enid Sinclair. She gave you a look of pity when she saw your disheveled state before asking “can I come in?”. Wordlessly nodding, you opened the door a bit wider so she could slip in. You sat back down at your bed, hearing the door click before the soft padding of socks came towards you. You were grateful Enid sat right next to you as you opted to lean your head on her shoulder.
A couple of deafening minutes passed before Enid spoke up “Sooo.. what happened back there?”.
She could feel you physically stiffen before groaning. You picked at the skin near your fingernails, not feeling the need to answer her question at the moment.
“You don’t have to tell me Y/n; whatever you feel comfortable with saying is fine.”
You stayed quiet for a bit before speaking up, voice rasping as you did so. “I was just trying to get her to take a break Enid.”
“I understand that Y/n; Wednesday can always be a little stubborn.”
“She said it like I was pathetic for caring about her health.”You spat out the word while grimacing.
Enid sighed, grabbing your arm to make you look at her. “Listen, Wednesday doesn’t think you’re pathetic and you should be the first person to know so. I’ve seen the way she looks at you - like you’re the star of the world. So, instead of subjecting yourself to these deteriorating thoughts, how about we talk about how she shows she loves you?”
You seemed to contemplate her idea prior to obliging.
“She does this thing when I’m upset with something - like she kisses my ring finger to comfort me I don’t know how to explain”
“Great! So how does that make you feel?”
“Like I’m the only one she looks at” You say, cringing at your words.
“Because you are she only looks at you and when you enter, she stares at you like you’re the only one in the world. It’s kinda creepy to be honest..”
“Enid she also looks at you, Yoko and Bianca I’m not the only person she knows.”
“Okay but I swear she looks at you differently like I’m being real here she looks at everyone else the same but with you it’s not the same. And you’re her girlfriend for crying out loud!”
You chuckle a bit before frowning right after. “Then why did she..”
“Y/n it could be from the stress, the pressure, or even in the spur of the moment! I don’t know, but I definitely know that she didn’t mean it. Wednesday would never say that without a reason. She even tells me you’re the love of her life; the one that keeps her going. But enough of that - how else do you know she loves you?
“Well she also calls me Y/n/n but don’t tell her cause she will get mad..”
The night was full of laughter with a few breakdowns before turning right back up with the faint music playing from the disc in your room.
When you woke up Enid was nowhere to be found. You laid in bed, staring at the ceiling for a few solid minutes bracing yourself for the pounding headache you had.
Not feeling up for classes, you sent your friends a quick text telling them to tell the teacher that you would be absent. Finding yourself unable to lull yourself back to sleep, you settled for a cup of coffee and a random romcom you and Wednesday would never live in.
Wednesday’s book thudded on the table while she sat down in her seat beside Xavier.
“What has you so worked up??” He said while staring at Wednesday.
“Nothing that concerns you.” Wednesday responded, eyes never peeling from the door.
“Erm..okay” he said, diverting his attention away.
Wednesday’s eyes stared at the door in hopes of you to turn up.
Yoko came in
Then Bianca
Then Enid
Then Ms. Thornhill
Maybe you were just late? She thought
But you never showed up - you didn’t even attend your club with Eugene where you two would crack random bee jokes.
“Where’s Y/n?” Wednesday asked Enid.
“Probably at her dorm sobbing her eyes out because of something YOU blew up at her for.” Enid snapped at her
“I didn’t mean to hurt her”
“I had to stay with her all night while she cried her eyes out thinking you hated her for caring about you.”
Wednesday paused for a moment. “Is she okay?” She asked in an unusually quiet voice.
“I don’t know Wednesday you should ask her not me. Look, I know you don’t hate her but you have to apologize because right now she fully believed you loath her so you have to clear that up with Y/n - not me.”
Wednesday gave Enid a silent nod before pulling on her shoes to rush towards your dorm.
Your roommate shot Wednesday a weird glance when she entered your dorm room. “What are you doing here?”
With a quick glance, Wednesday could tell you weren’t there so she had no choice but to converse with your roommate. “Do you know where Y/n is?”
“Umm can you tell me why you are here first?”
“No.”
“Then no I don’t know where Y/n is.”
“Tell me”
“No.”
“Okay. Fine. I need to apologize to her for something.”
“THE Wednesday Addams apologizing? Never would’ve guessed.”
Wednesday rolled her eyes before asking “Can you tell me where she is now?”
“She’s right there” Your roommate said while pointing at the door Wednesday came in a few seconds prior.
Sure enough, you were standing there, eyes narrowed at Wednesday.
“Hey..?” You said slowly setting your drink down on your desk. You shot your roommate a look telling her to get out, which she did at that.
Wednesday watched you sit down at your bed, eyes staring intently at you.
“So..” You started
“I would like to apologize.”
“Oh.”
“I apologize. Can you forgive me?”
Knowing Wednesday had trouble expressing her emotions, you pushed on.
“Can you tell me why you’re apologizing?”
“I apologize for implying you were a burden to me.”
“And?”
“And I apologize for spouting that you weren’t able to assist me. I understand you care for my mental stability and insinuating that you would oppress me in the future was discourteous. Although I previously inferred you wouldn’t be a big presence in my future, I would like to retract those words. These past few hours have been displeasing without you - something I would normally crave for, but without you, that feeling is nothing to me.”
“Do you know how that made me feel?”
Wednesday grimaced. “It made you feel unhappy.”
“Not only did it make me feel unhappy Wednesday. It made me feel inferior. I understand that the Hyde case puts a lot of pressure on you but you can’t take that out on me. I’m similar to you. I get frustrated. I get stressed, but I don’t take it out on other people especially you. In the future, if you are uncomfortable with what I’m doing, you can just tell me and I will stop. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable with me.”
“It’s not that you made me uncomfortable. I presume the stress buildup caused me to lose my temper. For that, I apologize.”
“Wednesday you don’t have to apologize. Feeling stress is normal and you unconsciously get it. I understand that you didn’t know how to relieve it.”
Wednesday just gave you a ridged nod at that.
“Wednesday come here.”
She strides towards you until she stood in-front of you. You pulled her down into an embrace. Wednesday’s hands hung stiffly around your torso but not quite touching it. You chuckled at that.
“You know you can touch me I’m your girlfriend.”
At that, her hands rested at your waist. Your head buried itself into her neck, leaving a chaste kiss on the skin there. You pulled back, hands still intertwined behind her neck.
“I love you. Do you know that?”
“Yes.”
You pulled her chin towards you, giving her a quick peck on her lips.
“Say it back Wends”
“I love you too.” Wednesday muttered, pale cheeks growing into a dark red color.
You smiled, pulling her back into a heart searing kiss, sealing the emotions drawn from today behind you as a memory of strengthening your relationship.
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A/n
Woo part two to The way you hurt me!! How did you like it?? Honestly idk if I do the comforting//apologizing part correctly/well bc I’m not really good with apologizing either. I also hope I portrayed each character accurately
If there are any mistakes in my writing please msg me or cmt it down - this is not reread at all
Always happy for constructive criticism!
Again thank you for reading and thank you for the notes on my last post!
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tlouadditc · 10 months
Text
hate to hate you.
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enemies to lovers abby x reader.
a/n: this was an ask but i forgot to put this under it 😭 anyway thank u anon for asking!! this was so fun to write tbh and also i am not a nursing student so idk how any of this works .... hope you enjoy anyway :,) also might write a pt. 2 depending on how this one does!
warnings: 18+/MDNI, men dni either, mean!abby [kinda], super fem!reader, abby's a bully :,((, switch!abby, switch!reader, clothed grinding [?], oral [a!receiving], dirty talk ;), pussy slaps [?], rushed ending because im crocheting, probably more. NOT PROOFREAD AGAIN.
abby has been your rival since middle school. she was always making fun of you- could be how you had lower grades [by a couple points, to be specific], how you always dressed in pink and in skirts and were a "tryhard", literally anything. hell, when she found out you were interested in nursing, she made it a competition to see who could be the better doctor. eventually, the amount of taunting had gotten to you and you started dressing like everyone else and becoming a quieter person.
ever since then, there's been some silent tension between you two. it was stupid, of course, but neither of you made an effort to end the rivalry. every class you had together in high school was a competition to see who could participate the most, get the most praise from the teacher, highest grades- everything. but no matter what you did, you'd always be second to her. once senior year was over, you were free from this hell and decided to finally be your true self in college.
or so you thought.
it was your first day of freshman year. you were doing your makeup in your bathroom, trying to calm your nerves. you've done this multiple times before, you thought to yourself. why am i still nervous??
you were adding little finishes- a bit more blush, curling your lashes one more time, adding a bit of glitter to your inner corner, etc. you check the time: 8:03am. class starts in 20 minutes, and you have to walk! you quickly check your outfit, straightening out your pink skirt and grabbing your bag before leaving out.
the walk to class isn't bad; a little confusing, but there's staff around to help direct new students, so you easily find your class. you walk in as soon as the class starts. to your horror, all the seats in the front are taken. the professor stops her introduction and walks over to you to speak. "hi, you must be y/n? you're a tad late, but it is your first time here, so i'll let you have a pass. your seat is in the back corner next to ms. anderson."
anderson...? your smile fades as you look towards the seat the teacher is pointing at. there she is- sitting there with her smug smirk and her always-braided hair. fuck my life actually. you turn back to the teacher, crack a small smile, and nervously walk over to your seat.
"didn't think you'd see me, huh?" is the first thing that comes out of abby's mouth, her big smile growing wider after seeing the dread on your face. all you can do is glare at her and get your things out. as you rummage through your bag, you hear the professor say:
"the person you are currently sitting with will be your partner for the semester."
you've LITERALLY have to be joking. the girl who's been borderline bullying you for years is your partner for the rest of the semester?? you debate asking the teacher to change seats, but decide against it.
"can't believe im stuck with you," she mutters, mocking the disbelief on your face. "shut up, abby," you hiss, trying to keep your voice down.
this was gonna be quite a year, huh?
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abby was unbearable the entire class. always asking useless fucking questions, moving her braid from one side to another- it all annoyed the fuck out of you. however, to pass this class, you had to work with her and put your feelings aside.
the first assignment was to study and review the human anatomy with your partner. the test on the subject was in a couple of days, making it the first grade of the semester. everyone else in the class was easily discussing plans for studying while you and abby made a horrible attempt for friendly small talk.
"so.. we have a test-"
"i heard."
"goddamnit, abby, i'm trying to pass this class. can you be nice for once?"
"stop staring at me like that and maybe i will."
"i wasn't even- [sigh] just give me your number so we can figure out a time and place. please."
and with that, you two later that night made the plan to meet up at your apartment and study there the next day.
the next day
you spent most of your morning doing your usual routine; cleaning, listening to your podcast, organizing your things- basically a mini-spa day. since abby was coming over, you didn't want to give her any reason to ridicule your space. you also debated on wearing some bland outfit to avoid the bicker, but ultimately decided you shouldn't care anymore. you settled on something casual; a floral tube top, a pink cardigan, and some comfy shorts to match the top. you also threw on some pink bunny slippers to match the ribbons in your hair.
as you finished the kitchen, the doorbell rang. must be abby. you walk to the door, slowly losing your happiness as you turned the doornob. upon opening the door, you see abby, leaning against your doorframe. she's dressed in a black wifebeater and gray sweats. she has a small tote bag and headphones around her neck.
as you study her look, she does the same to you. you suddenly feel small in comparison to her; almost feeling weak in her presence. if you were honest with yourself, in all the annoyance that you felt toward her, you could admit she was hot. she was your lesbian awakening, if you were 100% honest. but since she didn't like you, you suppressed all feelings.
"someone got dressed up," she teases, looking you up and down. "this is just how i dress," you say, rolling your eyes. "come in."
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an hour later, you and abby are sitting on your couch, going over flashcards for the test. abby has her information down, of course- you keep missing the same two vocab words.
"you dumbass," she laughs, watching you pout over missing the same word for the 4th time in a row.
"this is so annoying," you say, burying your head in your hands. the frustration you feel is so intense, you feel tears well up in your eyes. you attempt to hide it as abby continues to laugh, but a sniffle gives you away.
"are you- there's no way you're crying right now," abby says, genuine disbelief in her voice. "don't be a crybaby, bun. you can get it."
bun.. ?? what the hell? she's being... nice? no fucking way.
you lift your head, tears running down your face, messing up your makeup as you wipe your face with your hands. abby analyzes your face before sitting back on the couch. she pats her thigh, "c'mere, let me help."
okay, this has to be a dream.
you hesitantly get off your side of the couch and sit on her lap. almost immediately, you feel the warmth radiating off her body, making you shiver a bit. she chuckles lightly, "what, are you scared or somethin'? just trying to help you since you clearly need it." you're still wiping your face, too busy to rebuttal.
she begins to explain. "so, these two are similar, but they aren't the same thing. y'know why? because this one.."
all you can focus on is the amount of contact you two have right now: her right hand slightly touching your inner thigh. her abs resting against your back. her voice, soothing and calming, in your ears. the scent of pine and clean laundry filling your nose. you knew it was wrong, but fuck, you were wet. there was probably a puddle under you by now.
"uh, y/n? you there?"
you snap out of your slutty daze, realizing you're supposed to be listening. "mm, what? can you explain that, uh, again, please?"
she laughs, putting the cards on the coffee table in front of you two. "i'm sitting right here, trying to teach you and you still can't focus that pretty little head on this? god, what am i gonna do with you?"
you turn slightly, face to face with abby. her piercing blue eyes study yours, searching for something. you don't know what comes over you, but you completely turn to face her, move your hands to the sides of her face, and kiss her.
she immediately kisses back, hands finding comfort on the top of your hips. she falls back on the couch, lips still connected as you straddle her lap. you can feel the passion, intent with every kiss you give her. her strong hands push your hips onto hers, grinding through her sweats. a soft moan leaves your lips, giving her the opportunity to insert her tongue into your mouth and deepen the kiss.
you pull back, catching your breath as abby continues to make your hips roll onto hers. "you know how long- hah- i've wanted to do this to you?" she breathes, eyes moving from where you two meet to your flustered face.
you look at her, eyes wide. ".. what?"
"i've wanted to kiss you for forever. wanted to have you close like this. wanted to fuck you. everything." shes now completely focused of your face, trying to read your expression.
"i thought you hated me." you're so confused, you don't know whether to cry, smile, get angry, or whatever.
"fuck- i didn't mean to, i'm sorry," she's desperate, her hands moving to your cheeks to bring you back to her face. "let me make it up to you, yeah?"
after a while, she moves her hand to cup your throbbing cunt, earning a whimper from you. "you're so fucking wet, shit," she hisses, feeling the wet spot on your cotton pink shorts. "who's this for? hm?"
the embarrassment takes over you, making you pitifully whimper as you cover your face. she's quick to swat your hand away and ask in a more demanding voice, "who made you this wet, baby?"
"y-you," you manage to choke out, subconsciously grinding into her hand. she smirks, "good girl."
the praise catches you by surprise, not to mention the way her palm accidentally catches your clothed clit. a soft moan leaves your mouth, feeding into the power dynamic between you two. "oh, you like that name, huh?" she whispers, keeping eye contact with you as she rubs your clothed cunt. "you wanna be my good girl?"
"yes, oh my god-" you're chasing your high, overwhelmed by all the feelings you feel. she hums in response, clearly satisfied by your state. she moves a hand to your face, inserting a thumb into your mouth. you suck on her thumb, moaning around it as your hips stutter against her palm. "you gonna cum f'me, bun?" she coos, not slowing down at all. all you can do is nod, too caught up in the knots forming in your abdomen. "go ahead, pretty girl. cum for mommy."
the name pushes you over the edge, making you clench around nothing in your shorts. abby still has her hand over your cunt, feeling the wet spot grow as you pitifully moan. she talks you through your orgasm, mostly praising you for how good you are to her.
as you catch your breath, she removes her thumb from your mouth and peppers small kisses across your cheeks, releasing small praise in between. once you come to your senses, she's still under you, chuckling at your fucked out state. she mutters something along the lines of 'you're so cute' before you start to giggle with her.
you accidentally grind against her while laughing, making abby whine. you immediately realize you haven't helped her at all, making you guilty. you reach a hand down to her heat, feeling her warm cunt under her sweats. she hisses, hips bucking up onto your fingers. you get up and stand in front of her.
"sit up," you say, catching abby by surprise. she hesitantly sits up, looking suspiciously at you. "what for?" she questions, side eyeing you. you chuckle as you kneel in front of her, placing hands on her strong thighs. you reach a hand up to the band of her bottoms, signaling for them to come off. "m' gonna help you."
if her boxers weren't already soaked, they definitely were now. her face heats up as she shyly takes off her sweats, leaving her in just her wifebeater and undergarments. she puts her knees up to her chest, looking away as you assess the wet patch on her boxers.
"i make you this wet, abs?" you say quietly, pointer finger tracing her slit. she slightly gasps at the contact, slightly nodding to answer your question. "use your words. i know you can do it."
"you do, clearly. you've made me this horny for you for years, so yeah." she's being a brat, acting like she's in charge! you give her cunt a small slap, a small surprised moan leaving her lips.
"act like a brat, get treated like one." she stares at you, surprised that you went from such a submissive state to a dominant persona. you tease her, feeling her sensitive bud through her boxers. she whimpers, gripping onto the couch for any stability. "i think it's about time we get these off," you pull at the top of her boxers, "don't you think?"
she immediately gets up and takes them off, sitting back on the couch. she sits and moves her hips to the edge of the couch to reveal her cunt, glistening with slick. you study her sopping cunt, making her nervous under your gaze. "not so cocky now, hm?" you tease, making her face heat up as she huffs and puffs.
"please t-touch me," she almost whispers, barely able to be heard. you could've let up from here, but you don't.
"what was that? i'm gonna need you to be a bit louder, babe."
she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, swallowing her pride. "please touch me," she musters out.
she was such a pretty site to see, how could you possibly deny her? "okay, baby."
you spread her lips apart, revealing her swollen, sensitive clit. she shudders, cold air meeting her core. she's not sure what to expect until you dip your head down and place a flat tongue on her heat, making her gasp.
her reaction makes you smile; you quickly latch onto her clit and suck, still watching her reaction. she throws her head back, moaning loudly.
"oh, you like that," you say, quickly going back to placing kitten licks onto her cunt. she's overwhelmed with pleasure, loud moans and groans leaving her mouth. when you decide to insert your middle finger into her heat, she's going over the edge, babbling your name and please's. her hand comes down and grips the back of your head, pushing your face deeper into her pussy.
her sounds get you wet all over again, making you moan into her pussy. "s-shit, m' cumming- oh, fuck," she cries, gripping your hair and pulling you closer than ever to her as her heat clenches around your finger. tears are streaming down her face as you continue to lap up her juices. after she catches her breath, you pull her into a sloppy kiss, sharing her fluids in between you two.
"shit," she breathes, pulling away from the kiss, "i'm gonna have to fuck you harder next time."
"next time? oh, we're already making dates?"
"yeah, we're gonna have multiple assignments like this later."
you both laugh and get cleaned up before cuddling on your couch and sleeping in each others arms. :,)
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taglist [if you're striked out, i can't tag you!!]: @ellabsweet @digit4lslut @macaroni676 @mostlyhornyandsad @yorlenybaires @Pigwideon
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oharababe · 4 months
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CONCEPT 02 -professor rivalry with miguel
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professor! miguel o'hara x professor! reader mature: just the two of them bickering. wc: 581 academic rivals to potential situationship.
Molecular Biology and Genomics; two subjects of science that interlink with each other. But unfortunately, you and Miguel do not.
The two of you have this competition in the subjects you both teach your area of interest is molecular biology, whilst Miguel's is genomics. Both of you are professors at Neuva York Institute and this rivalry started back when you and Miguel started as students. Competing for the same grades, trying to come up with impressive projects and research and challenging each other when it comes to critical thinking and debates. Even now as alumni and professors of NYI, the fire between you and him hasn't extinguished. 
You and Miguel always clash when it comes to the subjects you both teach. There isn't a day that goes by where neither of you would miss out hearing each other's name in the classes you both teach. "Oh? Professor O'Hara said that learning about the ACGT bases is just a child's play?" You repeated, nodding to yourself as you tried not to sneer in front of your students. It's not their fault that his students are also your students since both subjects are certainly connected. They think it would help them progress to another year of studying.
You can almost hear Miguel's voice in your head, scoffing at you in his usual treatment. "Well, tell him as the professor of genomics, he should know that without understanding the concept of our DNA molecule, the area of his interest would just crumble into a hypothetical theory. To do a genomic mapping without learning about the DNA structure would just be a fantasy thought in the science department if people wouldn't bother to take my subject. Pass the message to O'Hara, would you?" 
When it comes to presentation research proposals, Miguel is always five steps ahead. He explains his scientific research clearly and thoroughly. But you always find a weak niche of his to point out and debate it. And in Miguel’s case, he shows no mercy towards you about your research proposals. Finding every little fault to the tiniest detail. “That wouldn’t work because the genetic code doesn’t match with what you wanted and it won’t get you the protein you want for your DNA,” Miguel argued. “You’ll have a shit genomic library for your research so come up with a better proposal.” 
You and Miguel would bicker at any point in time. But what’s more applauding is that everyone in the institute thinks that you and Miguel are suited for each other. Even daresay, the two of you would fall in love, already acting like an old married couple. Ha, as if! 
No matter how many times the two of you happen to be in the same room together, making a cup of coffee or tea at the same time, you can’t see yourself falling for someone like Miguel without frowning. No matter how many times you catch his gaze and he catches yours, the tension from the glaring across the room heightens, you don’t see how people can fathom the thought that you and Miguel are meant to be together. 
And no matter how many times you and Miguel bicker in the shared lab room, bodies leaning close intimidated in frustration as the two of you pick on each other’s thoughts, you convince yourself that in no way the two of you would start kissing from the heated passion. Even if that thought lingers in your mind at every argument with Miguel. 
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former molecular biology and genomics major here 😭 i graduated uni like three years ago and did both subjects. it was a blast and i did lose hairs from the intense learning. i'm working on professor rivals with miguel fic because i cannot get this out of my head. professor miguel does things to me and i want you to experience this with me too.
TAGLIST GROUP:
@99matterss @tojishugetiddies @miauamy @pigeonmama @oyayablog @therealloopylupin2099
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lunicho · 4 months
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SEXY TUTOR NICHOLAS *passes out*
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8bFSCo2/
-😵‍💫 anon
link
thinking abt tutor nicholas who everyone thinks is so attractive but he only comes to school to study and learn and nothing else. he always has his headphones in while he walks the halls as well. he has this mystery about him, his sharp eyes making you wonder if he's friendly or not. everyone knows he's super smart, he pokes his nose in books all day long and he spends his free time on campus in one of the labs on campus. you kept wondering that until you finally got the chance to meet him, your teacher recommended that you see him for help. the class happened to be his strongest subject and your teacher said he's actually a great tutor and that he just never offers his services.
it took a bit for you to actually approach him, the initmidation actually setting in everytime you tried. there was something about him and his aura that was a bit,, almost scary. once you approached him he actually already knew what you wanted, your teacher already mentioning it so it was actually a smooth sailing conversation. he made it quick and easy and he invited you to meet him in the library after school. things started off easy enough, he'd help with homework and answer any questions you may have. but then it turned to something more,, you'd gotten a little crush, just pretending to be confused simply to spend more time with him. you didn't know what he was thinking,, in fact nobody did. he was very good at staying consistent with what he shows to you and how he acts which is what made you like him even more, the mystery and curiosity is what kept you coming back.
one day he'd invite you to study at his place, saying something random about how he has to watch his dog or some shit. you'd come over and you'd feel very very nervous once again,, you don't know why but you do. he'd let you know that he wanted to try something new today. "seems you're not grasping the material so i wanted to try something new.. gotta see how much you really know." he'd leave you sitting in the dining chair, he'd move behind you, hands moving your hair from over your shoulder. you'd find yourself leaning towards his touch, wanting nothing more than to feel his hands on you. he'd lean down to your ear, "read from your notes, i want to know if you've been listening to me." you already know your notes suck balls, you've been focused enough to write SOMETHING down but the notes are definitely not what they should be.
you'd start reading anyways though, your voice hushed as you do. his hands would move towards the collar of your shirt, slightly dipping into your shirt, his fingertips touching skin he hasn't even seen. you'd jump slightly when he does this, your voice shaking. "something wrong?" he'd act clueless, his hands moving back to your shoulders. you'd shake your head faster than you like to admit. he'd ask you to continue reading, which you do. he'd get a bit more bold now, grabbing handfuls of your breasts. he'd squeeze the skin in his hands, chuckling at the way you slow down reading. he finds it amusing how fast you lose your focus. "doing great y/n,, keep reading." so you do!! you keep on going, trying so hard to keep focused.
you'd hear him moving behind you,, he'd pull your chair back before popping into your vision out of the corner of your eye. he'd turn your chair a bit, sinking down to his knees. if you're wearing a skirt then he'd just pull your panties down under your skirt but if you have on something else he'll just remove both. he'd move one of your legs onto the table, asking you to hold the book and keep reading. he'd do like a test run, licking one long stripe up your pussy, smiling again at how your voice and body shakes a little. you'd be tripping over words as he eats you out, his eyes sharp everytime you look down at him.
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skibasyndrome · 6 months
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"Are you mad at me?" and Honesty
inspired by the awesome parallel @impossibleknots found between these two shots
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and these tags by @darktwistedgenderplural I'd like to talk about this
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For both of them, this line comes after a breaking point, when they realize that they just can't stay away from each other for any longer.
Wilhelm, after rejecting Simon out of some misplaced sense of duty and swallowing down his grief about it, literally breaks down on the football field and, fuelled by alcohol and drugs, for once manages to let his guard down.
"You think you know me, eh? You don't!", he yells, followed by "That's right, I do whatever I want!". And then, well, he does what he wants and calls up Simon. And he's finally honest with him. Granted, it's very much the drugs that help him let his guard down, but - in an effort to be less fake than everything that surrounds him - he tells Simon that he likes him. That's one of Wilhelm's first and most authentic verbal declarations of what he feels. And from then on, at least for now and at least in front of Simon, the floodgates are open and he's baring his soul: "Thank you for coming", "You're so beautiful", all his little love declarations, and then he's letting him in on his insecurities as well. "Are you mad at me?" and, after once again declaring that he's so glad Simon is here, "I don't want you to be mad".
It's one of those things he hasn't been allowed to voice or even show, we know this. When he's nervously biting his thumb in s1e1 his mother slaps away his hand, lest he be seen behaving unprincely, and he's thoroughly internalized keeping up the facade, like when we hear him blatantly lie to Simon about being happy to be at Hillerska. Everything and everyone being fake, that includes him, Wilhelm. (And we know that his journey in deconstructing this fakeness is only starting out)
But at least for the time being, he's able to stand by his feelings for Simon. He does still need his assurance that "it's okay" once he's confronted about his love declaration, but he still does admit to it. And that honesty is what leads to them making love for the first time.
Letting their guard down, fully committing to what they're feeling for each other. Honesty is what leads to this.
The second time, it's Simon's turn to bare his soul. Yes, Simon has been the one that has helped Wilhelm be more honest and more vocal about his own feelings, but Simon himself, while forthcoming about his love and the fact that he wants to be with Wilhelm, is still struggling himself, especially when it comes to voicing his not so pleasant feelings, like how heartbroken he's feeling for all of s2.
Even during their 'exchange' in class, it's still only about him slowly starting to see Wilhelm's side, and not about the uncomfortable and conflicting things Simon himself is feeling on the inside.
So when he worriedly texts Wilhelm "Are you mad at me?", that's him admitting that, yes, he's also very much still invested in this, in them and that that's scary, unnerving and that he's not sure how to read the situation. He's letting his insecurity show, something he very, very rarely does. Beautifully, he does it again later, now face to face with Wilhelm. After Wilhelm says that he's scared, Simon admits it, too, letting down his walls for Wilhelm to see that he's not as tough as he pretends to be AND he lets Wilhelm be the one to comfort him, reach out his hand and take him ino his arms.
So in one instance, we have Wilhelm finally letting his true feelings show, proving to Simon - who's been open about his attraction - that the feeling is mutual. And in the other we have Simon, who up until now has been trying to keep his conflicting feelings under wraps and his fear hidden, reassured and coaxed into admitting to them by Wilhelm openly saying that he also is scared and physically showing that he's there for him. Mutual honesty.
Two very different admissions and two very different subjects that they now finally managed to be honest about and every single time it brings them closer and, in both scenes, it repairs the trust that was broken by dishonesty before.
And what makes it even more beautiful to me is that, in addition to it being in a way a new beginning every single time, we know that both instances did have a lasting impact on both of them and their journey towards being more honest with each other. Yes, there are ups and downs and Wilhelm did lie to the world about the video after their first time, but he keeps on learning and the second time around, he is much more honest about his love for Simon. And we even see it bleed into the last episode with Simon now finally admitting to just how much he feels for Wilhelm and Wilhelm in turn finally taking back his initial lie in front of the whole world.
Their journey towards full honesty is still very rocky, but with every instance of them letting down their guards together, they grow closer and their ability to be authentically themselves not only together but also towards the world vastly improves.
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papercorgiworld · 7 days
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Not into you
A Regulus Black imagine
This is part two to Lily’s Potion. Read it here.
Regulus is taunting you, hoping you will confess that you’re into him. When you try to get your revenge things get very interesting.
Warning: slightly suggestive, but also just sweet
I was super excited about this one when I wrote it, but I just reread and meh. But I really hope you like it. It's less smutty than part one and more fluffy, I think... Feedback is always welcome. Sending you all lots of love and of course happy readings!
– The request –
NEED a part two for Lilys Potion pleaseeee 🙏🙏
– The writing –
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When Lily and Marlene had told you that avoiding Regulus wasn’t that difficult they clearly forgot that you’re both in the same year and that he can be an obnoxious ass if he wants to be. You feel your whole body tense when you notice he’s taking the seat behind you. You hear a little shuffling but try to focus on your book, checking today’s subject before class. Regulus gets up from his seat slightly leaning over his desk to get closer to you. “I did some research and there’s no way that the things you said and did… or at least tried to do, were all induced by that potion. You wanted it.” His raspy whisper and words make you forget to breathe for a second. There’s a silence and Regulus’ smile grows smug, convinced that you’ll admit you like him, but you regain composure. “Don’t flatter yourself, Regulus. You’re my best friend’s baby brother.” Merlin, he hated it when you referred to him as just his brother's ‘baby’ brother, but his scowl was mostly caused by your ridiculous argument. “What does that have to do with you being horny for me?” Regulus asks bluntly, eyes taunting and smug. You’re absolutely baffled by his choice of words. Horny? Who does this brat think he is! You turn slightly but don’t face him and protest with an annoyed but hushed voice. “I’m not horny for you!” Far from convinced, Regulus' eyes turn even more cocky than they usually are with a filthy smile tugging on his lips. He’s about to open his mouth when the professor walks in, bringing an end to the conversation.
***
You join your friends at the gryffindor table, but do so with a scowl on your face. “What’s gotten you in such a pissy mood?” Peter asks, making everyone look at you. “Them.” You say, making all eyes move to the slytherin table, not needing any further reference to who you were talking about. Regulus and his friends were snickering about something but Regulus’ eyes were focussed on you. When he sees half the gryffindor table look at him, he just smirks and looks away. “Yeah… what’s up with that?” Sirius asks you and you frown. “What happened at the party? I mean Regulus pulled you away from me and next we find you both in your room?” You feel your cheeks heat up and avert your eyes to the food instead of your friends’ questioning looks. “Nothing happened.” You say, sounding annoyed and anything but convincing. Lily tactfully changes the subject and most of the table follows her lead, except for James who keeps his eyes focused on you. “You know there’s such a thing as revenge.” He whispers just loud enough to get your attention and avoid the rest from picking up on what he’s saying. “What do you mean?” You ask confused but also genuinely interested in whatever James’ brain had cooked up. “Put him through the same and see if he’s still laughing at you then.” 
Your smile slowly mirrors James’ grin as you see the whole plot work out, but at the slytherin table a very wary Regulus senses trouble. 
***
James had come up with a plan. You had to distract Lily so he could steal the last dose of her crappy potion. You didn’t like going behind your friend’s back but James had convinced you that it was best to avoid Lily since she had somewhat of a moral compass and purposely drugging a guy to get some petty revenge was a bit ‘morally grey’ as James put it. The second step of the two step plan was to convince Sirius to join in so he could slip Regulus the potion. After some judgmental frowning Sirius quickly decided to pick James’ plan of mischief over his own flesh and blood. 
***
So now here you were, casually hanging at a party with Marlene and Remus by your side discussing the immense workload the professors had hit you with over the past few weeks. You occasionally scan the room to see if you could spot Regulus. When an hour had passed and you still hadn’t seen him you began to worry. You clearly hadn’t thought this through at all, what if you had caused Regulus to end up with someone. You and James had agreed to not let things escalate but James had clearly forgotten about that since he was more than a little wasted already. 
You leave your friends in search of Regulus, but he’s nowhere to be found at the party. So you decide to be brave and approach a drunk and wickedly smiling Barty. Who’s smile turns filthy as soon as he notices you walking over to him. “Well, look at that, pretty girl looking for some entertainment? Come to the right place.” He winks and leans a little closer to you. You roll your eyes and just ignore his words. “I’m looking for Regulus.” You state and Barty rolls his eyes. “Really that's the guy you want to go for?” Barty teases with wiggling eyebrows. “You could have me. I’m better looking, funnier and slightly less emo.” You raise your eyebrows and feel saved when Evan shouts from a nearby couch. “Sit your drunk ass down Barty.” Barty complies without a single word of protest, his eyes suggestively looking at Evan now. “I’m afraid you missed him, pretty sure Regulus left for his dorm about half an hour ago.” Evan says and you quickly thank him rushing out to find Regulus.
You fling the door of Regulus’ room open to find him pacing around in his room. His tie was undone, shirt wrinkly and hair messy. There was a cauldron and a mess of ingredients surrounding it. As your eyes focus on whatever he was brewing, Regulus spots you and turns red. When you meet his eyes he spins around, away from you. “You! What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here.” A stressed hand moves through his hair and you observe him carefully. “You alright?” You ask, closing the door behind you and taking a step towards him. “No! I’m not alright. I know what you did! You gave me that potion and now my mind’s running wild!” He turns around, but takes a step back to keep some distance between you two. For the past hour his mind and body had been craving you. He had done his best to keep himself in check and work on a cure rather than run to you, confessing his secret crush on you. You feel guilty, seeing him this distressed. 
“I’m so sorry, Regulus. James and I just didn’t think this one through at all, but you were being a bit of  a dick and we thought it was funny.” As you apologise and explain yourself, Regulus’ mind wanders. His eyes lustfully move over your figure, taking in every beautiful detail. He feels his whole body heat up and his member twitches in his pants. Her lips are so kissable. Fuck, I need her in my bed, underneath me. Or she could just hold me and kiss me. She’s wearing that perfume again. It’s killing me. I bet she tastes even better than she smells. - What the hell am I thinking? She’s just a stupid girl. - Merlin, I want her, need her. Damn potion. She’s the one. So fuckable. She would be such a sweet and beautiful mom to our children. “Regulus? Did you even hear a thing I said?” You snap your fingers in front of the dreamy slytherin.
“Just help me make a cure before I confess my feelings for you.” Regulus snaps, turning to the cauldron on the table. Your eyes widen and it takes a second before his eyes fill with horror. “Feelings?” You ask, feeling your cheeks heat up and your heart swell with joy. “It’s the potion talking.” Regulus quickly argues, but a cheeky smile tugs on your lips as you remember what he had told you just a few days earlier. “No, Reg, I clearly remember you telling me that the potion doesn’t induce any feelings of any sort.” 
“Shit.” Regulus curses, looking down. He had been so eager to have you confess your feelings and now it was blowing up in his face. “Well since I’ve already embarrassed myself today, I might as well do this while I'm still high on this potion.” He takes two big steps towards you and brings a hand to the back of your head, pulling you into an intensely deep and passionate kiss. He pulls away and takes a deep breath, calling up on all his self control to ignore you and focus on the potion. Meanwhile you’re still on cloud nine due to that amazing kiss. “Hey, twinkle eyes, you gonna help me or just stand there being beautiful and distracting me.” Though he was giving a compliment there was clear annoyance in his voice. He hated being so vulnerable and was still embarrassed about confessing. 
You eventually snap out of it and tell Regulus to take a seat on his bed and relax so you can work properly without his mess of hormones interfering. When you finally finish the potion he swallows it down eagerly. You watch him carefully to see if it worked. Regulus lets himself fall onto his bed again, relieved that the horny hunger inside of him had somewhat calmed down to a normal amount. However, now that the effects of the potion had worn out you were still on his mind, as always. He runs a hand over his face. “Fine. Laugh all you want.” Regulus finally says, throwing his arms wide in surrender and you chuckle at his dramatics, but you don’t laugh to Regulus’ surprise. Instead you move closer to him and straddle him. He’s confused for a second, but more than happy to welcome you on his lap. 
“You’re kinda hot when you’re all bothered like this.” You whisper as you comb through his hair with your fingers, making him smirk, satisfied to have you. He pulls you closer and pushes himself up so his lips brush yours. “I thought you weren’t into me?” Regulus whispers teasingly. “I lied.” You say with a cheeky smile and Regulus, squeeze your side making you yelp before kissing you lovingly. I knew it. 
Word count: 1728
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