#ten page paper is easy

[luvmila444]

SWEET RELIEF - C.S

…………………………………………….. ☆ ★ ………………………………………………

Chris sturniolo x fmreader

summary: Chris can’t help but get a bit worked up while on a tutoring study call with you, when you realise what he’s doing, you only pushing him further to the edge.

content warning: male masturbtion; dirty thoughts; praise kink

word count: 2.8k

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Chris was a little embarrassed with how fast he had picked up the phone call from you, not to mention the blush that had spread across his cheeks and his quickly paced heartbeat when he heard your sweet voice ring through the speakers. 

“Hey, Chris!” You smiled as you spread your small pile of assessments and study papers across your desk to get yourself prepared. This had been a regular thing on Wednesdays and Saturdays for the past two months. You guys would set up a phone call together as you would help him study as Chris was falling behind in class…a lot. You guys had to do it over the phone as both houses were always so busy due to Chris’s brothers and your family always occupying your living spaces, making it difficult to have privacy and quiet to help him focus and bring his grades up. Therefore, you resulted in two easy phone calls across the week, which Chris always enjoyed a little too much. 

Chris loved that you could never see him and what he was doing at the sound of your voice over the phone. The sweet ring of it through the speakers. The way you ramble so passionately about the work. Yeah… he definitely liked having the privacy of his room for these calls more then he’d like to admit. Although he can never help but imagine what you looked like, what you were doing. Fuck… he’s been on the call for no more than ten second and he’s already getting himself worked up. 

“Chris…?” He heard you voice agin. Fuck that voice. 

“Yeah... I’m here, hey y/n.” He couldn’t help the smile that rose onto his lips hearing hear giggle at his slow usual response. 

“Okay well glad you're here,” you say readying the paper you had recently got giving by your teacher, on to the top of the pill of books you had been working on, “why don’t you fine the paper that mr Hudson gave us today and we will work through that one today, yeah?” You say cutely but trying not to talk so fast so Chris could take in the information. 

“Yeah, yeah sure…” he buries his way through his overflowing piles of unfinished homework to find the paper that was given to him today by his teacher “why did he give us the paper today, anyway?” Chris huffs, flipping to the first page that you wanted to start working on. 

“I have no idea, it’s not like we don’t already get enough work given to us on Mondays and Fridays, but now on Wednesdays too? It’s getting a bit intense at this point!”

Chris hums in agreement, loving the way you get worked up about things. However, once you were done with your small rant, you let out a sign that was so quiet only the most observant person would notice it, lucky for you, Chris was that person. As you made the noise Chris felt a familiar warm feeling in his lower stomach, just imagining you making that noise in a very different scenario…

“Did you see jenny today?” You interrupted his quickly drifting dirty thought, referring to girl who passes every class, not using her smarts but her body instead, fucking her way to good grades. 

“No, why? What was she doing this time?” Chris asked slowly, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat and suppress his dirty thought of you. 

“Woah I’m surprised you didn’t see her! She was practically pushing her tits out of her very tiny top to try and get out of this paper…. practically had all the guys drooling,” you huffed. You’d always been quite jealous of Jennifer. She could literally get any guy she wanted and could always get out of these stupid papers. It was irritating to people like you who tried their very hardest in their schoolwork and seem to go zero appreciation for it, when all jenny does is gossip, do her obnoxiously babyish laugh and pop a tit, therefore having the whole classroom wrapped around her finger. It was pathetic.

“Nah, guess i don’t really care that much about her,” Chris was very aware of Jenny’s usual inappropriate behaviour, yet he couldn’t pull his eyes away from you all through that class. He was sat near the back of the class, so he had a good view of his surroundings and could easily see you sat a few rows in-front of him, at the perfect angle so her couple see you left side perfectly. Chris simply couldn’t understand how anyone could pay attention in that class knowing that you were in there, not jenny but you. 

Your short denim mini shirt that accentuated you ass and hips so perfectly and highlighting your legs. However, to keep yourself warmer and seem more modest, you through a knitted sweater over the top, making Chris’s eager to rip it off and see what you hid beneath the layers of warm wear. God, if there was nobody else in that classroom, he would not hesitate you lift you up on the desk and kiss up your legs to your perfect thighs and up your body. He would make sure to take perfect care of you, bring his lips underneath your sweater and bring his hand to you perfectly round and covered tits. 

Full, he could barely take it anymore. He could feel his harder member quickly growing underneath his get sweats, but he didn’t want to stop. No… he couldn’t stop himself.

“Huh, thats surprising, i could’ve sworn that the guys next to me literally had dribble on his chin, it was crazy.” You laughed. 

Fuck that laugh. Chris brought his hand up to his crotch and felt where he had grown harder just thinking of you. He began to palm himself, trying to relieve the growing soreness between his legs. 

"We should get started now." You unintentionally break his train of thought, as he gulps, silently cursing at himself. "Because I you barely understood what was going on it that class."

"Uh, yeah." Chris coughed, forcing himself to focus. "What did you want to start with?" 

You voice begins to drift into an explanation of what was said at the beginning of the class, only worded in a simpler way, yet Chris could barely take in any of this information. You speak so innocently, brows furrowed, as Chris furrows his own for an entirely different reason. 

He continues to palm his dick through his pants while your voice was sending small electric jolts through him. All the way down to his dick, which has begun to strain painfully against his pants beneath his hand. Christ, i can’t actually be doing this right now-he thinks to himself. He licked his lips, quickly responding to what you were saying with a hum and an "ah, that makes makes more sense." 

Chris doesn't mean to drown out your words. Because he's listening. But more so to the hilt of your voice, and how it would sound much breathier, as you gazed up at him. One of his fantasies had you on your knees, teasingly licking at his cock, as your devious eyes held his. He had orgasmed extremely quickly, multiple times, when he found this imagine in his head. 

“So thats basically the first part,” you continued to explain, unaware and completely oblivious to Chris’s hand rubbing at himself on the other end of the line.  

He won’t do more. He can’t, this is just so wrong of him Just…relieve a hint of tension. You continued to speak, and your words began to sound like something he wished he could grab, as his hand tightened on his bulge, his rubbing growing messy. His breathing had grown heavier, but he covered it up by saying ‘yes’s and ‘no’s, answering your questions. 

“Sorry, I’m rambling. Did you have any questions?” You ask, feeling as if Chris wasn’t getting everything he needed out of your words. He had to spare a glance at his incomplete work, scanning to see if he’d written down any problems, trying to remember if he had any. Because the only problem he could think of right now is how his over-the-clothes rubbing was doing little to satisfy his need. 

His cock was now rock hard, it was torturous. His mind began to glaze over with lustful thought of you “I—I don’t think so.” He mutters out, his fingers reaching into the waistband of his sweats and briefs, pulling his cock, which was now leaking with drops of pre-cum and the tip was a bright rosy, red, much like his cheeks.

He imagined the way you would touch him. Would you be gentle and slow, or would you edge him and make sure he’s extremely overstimulated as you milk him dry. Chris’s breathing stutters as he strokes himself. The little hums you make when you think have begun to make his hips thrust up into his palm. His other hand had tightened around the sheet, praying that you can’t hear him jerking off to you. Chris becomes lost in your tone as his cock twitches. 

“Chris?” You slowly ask, making his hips jolt at the utterance of his name from your lips, but he tries to keep his voice of some composure. 

“Yeah?” He had to press his lips together after a needy whimper nearly falling. 

“Are you…okay?” 

Your question makes him halt, much to his cock’s dismay. “W-what?”

“You sound… i don’t know, out of breath?” You say, behind the line trying to think of why.

“Really, you think?” He hums with a small smirk on his face enjoying the uncertainty in your tone and how innocent you mind must have been.  You nod to yourself, but then you catch the smallest of sounds fall straight from Chris’s lips. You had to be mistaken, as it had almost sounded like one full of pleasure that could have only been as a result of one thing... 

Your mouth opened in shock as you realise. He’s out of breath because he’s…

“Chris.” You say again, hearing a stuttering whimper from him before he tries to cover it up by asking ‘yes?’ again.  

“What are you doing?” 

Chris curses himself because you sound suspicious. “I’m studying obviously. Being tutored s-so well... by you.” He says, really forcing down his cock’s wanting to just ask you to keep talking so he could reach his orgasm, attempting to stop himself from stuttering his words, but he just couldn’t help it. 

“You’re sure you’re good?” You asked unconvinced, as a small smirk rose to your lips.

“No. No, I’m all good, i swear.” He says, really forcing his words to sound normal, as he had slowly begun to stroke himself again, his cock angry. 

“Ah huh, yeah…okay,” you knew what you were going to do, this was going to be fun. “Did i tell you how good you looked today?”

Chris’s eyes opened, looking at his phone slightly trying to keep a steady pace of his raging cock but if you were going down this road of compliments, he probably wouldn’t be able to take it much longer.

“Uh, n-no,” he stutters pathetically, somehow unaware of the game you were playing. 

“Well, you did, your hair…wow. I could just run my hands through it! How do you always get it looking so soft?” You paused momentarily, hearing Chris’s surprised whimper. “Sorry thats kind of a goofy thing to say…sorry.” You were basically just teasing him now, the basic matters of the studying gone.

“I- no i don’t think its goofy. a-at all…” his words are broken up by that heaving panting.

“God. really? You’re so sweet chris…wow,” You hum, making Chris’s hips thrust up into his hand, his legs having widened as you spoke. 

“R-really?” His eyelids began to feel heavy again, wanted nothing more but to see the darkness and use it as a canvas to paint his dirty images of you in his mind. 

“Yeah, i mean you’re the literal sweetest” you hum lightly, “you always make sure i havea seat in class, you listen to me when i speak and when i help you i study, you defend me in-front of your friends! You’re so sweet! Such a sweet, good boy for me” you were practically grinning at this point.

Chris could have sworn that your words could have sent him spiralling over the edge.“I a-am?” He asked, almost to clarify that this was real, that you were actually saying this to him.

“Well of course, and you’re always so busy as well, yet you always make time for me in your busy schedule. You must be stressed a lot of the time. I could always help you…relax sometime, relieve some of your…tension.” You had lowered your voice now in order to have a more seductive tone to your voice now.

Chris chokes on a whimper as he places his hand over his mouth, still thinking you don’t know. “My tension…?”

“I mean, yeah… i could alway give you a massage, rub you down, you know I’ve been told I am very good at giving…massages.” It was becoming blatantly obvious what you were doing now but Chris must’ve been blinded and in a lustful haze because he still seemed to be completely oblivious to what you were doing. Continuously pumping his dick eagerly and chasing his release.

The thought of you sat on top of him, rubbing all down him in order to relax him was definitely doing the opposite effect and only working him up more. Fuck. He had almost come from the thought of you taking care of him. the tone you had dropped to makes his hand quicken as his hips had begun to grind into his palm.

“You’d do that for me?” Chris whined, only imaging what else you would do for him almost sent him over the edge.

“Of course, i would baby, you would tell me where it feels good before i drag my hands down your body…” Chris let out a pathetic whimper at not only the simple thought but at the nickname as well. Baby? Baby??! Oh, my lord he was going absolutely feral at this point, “however, through your clothes it mind be hard to properly get that tension out.” 

Chris moans through his teeth, as his hips pathetically thrust at your words. “No clothes?” 

“No clothes.” You confirm. “Would that be, okay? I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable— “

“Yes.” His answer was immediate, cutting you short. He coughs. “That would be fine.” 

You grin. “Good. Because that way I could really relieve some tension. I’d have to straddle you of course.” You pause to hear chris’s heavy breathing and the faint sound of his hand gliding along his cock. “You may even have to flip around, because I’ve heard that the most tension can be by your collarbones and neck.” 

Chris nearly orgasmed at the thought of you straddling him, as your hands wandered his body. “As in straddling..my front?” 

“Yeah, is that okay?” 

“Uh huh.” He hums, his cock twitching with a soon need to release. 

“I could give you that massage the next time we study.” You say, making chris’s breathing quicken at the possible reality of all that. “I could come over to yours.” 

At this point he couldn’t care how desperate he sounded. “Yes. Please, come anytime.” 

“Or maybe you should cum?” You ask, your innuendo strong, as pleasure began to rock through chris’s body. 

“W—what?” 

“Come to my place, i know yours is always super hectic.” You play it off, listening to the wet sounds his cock was making as you could hear how close he was to his orgasm. 

“Fuck…yeah that sounds good, i-if you’re happy then s-so am i…” he was no biting his own lip so hard he could’ve sworn he was drawing some blood. He now had his back so far arched up off of his bed and was practically fucking up into his own hand. 

“See, again, you are alway thinking…of me,” oh he was definitely thinking of you, thats for sure, “you are such a good boy.” And that did it. His orgasm wracked through him as quiet whimpers and moans left his lips his hips grinding into nothing. Wishing the air was you. He watched as the white strings of cum coated and stained his dark shirt. 

“Fuck” he let out a relieved groan, now not even hiding the action that he had just did. 

“Maybe next time we study i should just jerk you off instead,”

Chris’s eyes widened at what you had said, before realising how blatantly obvious what he was doing was. You giggled once again hearing Chris’s heavy breathes, pleased to know that it was you who had pushed him over the edge. 

“Fuck, you can do whatever you want to me,” Chris let out with a deep breathe. 

Oh, you certainly would…

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A/n : thank you so much for reading, this is literally my 3rd time trying to post this because I keep making mistakes 😭😭I really hope you enjoy and if there are any more mistakes pls lmk

ily my angels 💞 (especially @gamermattsgf)

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #smut #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you

[yanderenightmare]

L "Lawliet"

rewatched Death Note and just couldn't resist...

TW: strict schooling ig, orphan reader, creepy behavior

gn reader

You were placed in Wammy’s House at an age you don’t remember. To you and most of the orphans here, it’s been your entire lives. Birthdays aren’t celebrated. The days are cold, the residents even colder. There was a time when you’d consider them brothers and sisters, but that’s also long ago now. No one is close to each other in this house.

It’s a rather stale existence with boring conditions unfit for normal children – the solitude, the competition, the games, always a ploy to make each other feel worthless. And for what… more riddles to solve?

You’d long lost interest in proving yourself among the prodigies. When you were given puzzles, you always played with them differently than the rest. They’d tell you to fill out the sheets, and you ended up making origami swans instead.

Looking around at the others, you knew you would never understand them – all blank faces staring into space. They all make you uneasy. You don’t know if it’s you or them that’s missing something, but you recognize it’s a rather pointless question to be begged. 

So you leave your paper flock on the floor and walk away.

You’d started putting the chisel of a black marker to the library books in your spare time – trying to make something else out of the boring pages. Something more palatable than the droning of law and policy you’d already read ten times over.

You had blacked out the word doppelganger when there came a disturbance.

“You had 84% of them right.”

You peeked up from the book, lowering your knees from where you had them tucked close for privacy – sitting on the floor between two bookshelves – a little nook you’d discovered to hide yourself from the rest of the busy readers in the usually crowded library.

It was empty now. Everyone was otherwise busy with the test still.

And yet, a mess of black hair was crouched down in front of you, shadowing his equally dark eyes. He held your swans unfolded in his hands. It was a disturbing sight for some reason – as though he’d dissected their guts. 

“You left 16% unanswered. Most people would test their luck and guess.”

L must have been the least creative alias born in the dull walls of Wammy’s House, and yet, he’s supposed to be the brightest of all those living there. He always finishes your tests early and leaves in favor of his own devices. Much like you, you suppose. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him speak before.

Suppose it’s only courtesy you pay him the same effort even when what you really want is to tell him to leave you alone…

You narrowed your eyes a bit, looking at him.

You sensed foul play in a game you had no wish to partake in but moved across the board like a sacrificial pawn anyway. That’s how you play these things, after all – never show your cards.

“There’s nothing to guess.” You sigh – despite knowing he already knows all this. “The blanks are trick questions.”

“So you noticed, too?” His eyes are like inkblots – much like those spills you’ve made in your book when you let the marker rest too long. He dropped your papers between you in favor of gripping his knees, leaning forward. “We’re the only ones.”

You purse your lips at his eagerness. You should have played dumb from the start – should have said you swiped the answer sheet from the headmaster’s office. He’d only spoken all but four sentences, and you were already exhausted. Any conversation with any one of your peers was like an interrogation.

“You started folding paper cranes when I was 94% done. Easy logistics would put you 6% ahead of me. But, unlike me, it didn’t seem you were filling out the answer sheets in any hurry. In fact… you seemed bored. And in that case, I’d put you around 16%, no... 18% ahead of me.”

You allowed the following silence to inform him that his ramblings were boring you. But it didn't seem he took the hint – showing no signs he planned on leaving.

Your eyes grew more jaded.

“Paper swans.” You corrected blandly. “You know my alias is Swan.”

You clapped your book together and sighed again.

“And we both know you were finished long before I started folding them.” 

He had a small smile on his face. It looked as if you’d drawn it on with your marker.

“You can state all the percentages in the world to try and confuse me, but your mind games won’t get under my skin for one single simple reason, L…” You got up and brushed off the dust, then walked away while saying, “I’m not interested in playing – not with you or anyone else in this miserable place. So do me a favor and leave me alone.”

L watches you leave and taps his lips with his pointer.

Puzzles and answer sheets have bored him for a while. Maybe he ought to play with you instead…

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yancore #yandere L #yandere death note #yandere dn #yandere l lawliet #l lawliet #death note

[kimchikrust]

She's Breaking News

Lately, you’ve been on the news, and while Katsuki wouldn’t typically care, your recent popularity affects him more than he’d like. 

You’re rising in the ranks quickly for a newly licensed Pro. Up-and-coming rookie, and a woman on top of that, so the whole region knows about your masked persona. Unfortunately for Katsuki, you’re fast approaching the top ten and coming after his spot in the top five. 

He can tell you're formidable from the footage of your endeavors released to the public, and if this were high school, he’d be demanding to spar and test your skills. 

But you didn’t attend UA; you’re a transfer from North America. You held no torch for the citizens of Japan. Your position was merely a job that took you away from home. So why was Katsuki fuming over the latest front page in the paper?

FOREIGN HERO, HERE TO STAY

Katsuki had yet to work with you on any assignments. His job as a more seasoned residential hero was to remain on-call at all times and begin developing relationships with others – networking for a longstanding career as a Pro. He didn’t plan to ever cross paths with you. 

“Why are you such a hater, Kat?” Eijirou sighs heavily one day. They were sharing an elevator, and Eijirou brought you up. Katsuki rolls his eyes in a display of exhaust. 

“She’s a shiny new hero for the fanatics to fixate on,” the explosion hero grumbles, unable to mask his bitterness. “She ain’t that impressive.”

“We’ve watched the same footage,” Eijirou points out with a smile dancing over his lips. “She’s efficient and packs a punch. I think I read that she’s on the shorter side too; you can’t tell from the pictures-”

“I couldn’t care less, Eiji,” Katsuki murmurs, rubbing his palm over his face and breathing in relief at the elevator’s final chime.  

They called you the Sentinel in the States, and your moniker followed you to Japan. The Sentinel, Katsuki harrumphed. Did he consider your hero name ironic – a shorter-than-average American woman considered a soldier to Japan? 

“What a joke,” Katsuki said as he watched your recent battle play on the screen over the bar. 

“Sorry, Kachan,” Izuku panted, colliding into the counter in a rush. “Have you been waiting long?” 

“Yeah, but don’t sweat it,” he grumbled, sipping his fruity horoyoi can. “You come from work?”

“How’d you know?” Izuku bashfully scratched the back of his head as he slid onto his reserved stool.

“You’re still wearing your boots.” Katsuki glanced down at the massive accessories on his friend’s feet with an amused glint. Izuku’s face grew bright red at the realization.

“Oh, wow. That’s embarrassing.”

Katsuki pondered, waiting for Izuku to settle into his seat and order his drink. “How was she?”

“How was who? Ochako?” Ochako was Izuku’s partner since their days at UA. Izuku’s favorite pastime was fanboying over his Pro-Hero girlfriend, but sometimes his efforts were overzealous. 

“No, you crazy bastard,” Katsuki chastised. “Sentinel. You fought with her today, didn’t you?” 

Izuku looks at him curiously. “I didn’t really fight with her. They called us both in, but she handled the situation alone. Handled it well, if I’m being honest.” 

Katsuki hummed in displeasure, and his childhood friend saw it for what it was.

“I heard from Kirishima that you’re holding a grudge against her,” Izuku mentioned innocently. “From what I can tell, she doesn’t care too much about the rankings.”

“Doesn’t matter. The woman is still rising in the ranks like she could give a fuck, and that’s a threat to my number one spot.”

“Not yours yet, Kachan,” Izuku muses, graciously accepting his drink from the bartender. “There are other contenders you should be more worried about.”

“Oh yeah?” Katsuki couldn’t bite back his smile as he cut a glance at his old friend’s chipper expression. “You threatening me, shrimp?”

“I certainly won’t make it easy for you.” Izuku shrugs, taking a sip from his drink. 

They called you the Dimension Hero after you released information on your quirk to the public. It was in an interview that the Hero Commission set up, linking your appearance to their credit. A nameless interviewer innocently asked the details of her power, only to discover another trait Japan could love about you. 

From the footage of your battles throughout your career, Katsuki made connections to your quirk and fighting style. You fought with constructs for the most part. When you activate your quirk in battle, your body glows a soft purple – an excess of power drawn from ‘another dimension’ (a tidbit that sparked a lively audience amidst the public).

“Like I’m stupid enough to believe that,” Katsuki mumbled after watching the interview. 

You revealed that drawing power from this pocket dimension gave you an upper hand against opponents. With the ability to access a seemingly unlimited energy source, Katsuki couldn’t fathom the drawbacks of your quirk. 

It sounded like bullshit. 

The first time he meets you, it’s after witnessing your quirk in action. Katsuki, in his hero suit, spectates from the rooftops while you’re pursuing a villain. 

While you’ve had your Pro-Hero license for a while, you were still new to the landscape in Japan. That much is evident to Katsuki when you lose the villain in the unfamiliar industrial terrain. He could’ve left the job to you, let you lose the suspect, and taken a hit to your popularity. But it didn’t feel right to leave you scrambling. Katsuki’s job as a Pro was to help people, and he took his career seriously. 

It’s easy for a resident hero to navigate the streets, quickly taking a shortcut to cut off the villain. The suspect unfortunately doesn’t realize he’s trapped – too fearful of the woman on his tail – and Katsuki takes the opportunity to fire at his feet, sending the man flying into the side of the building. 

Katsuki waits as the man takes one look at him, standing tall and menacing in his costume, and rightfully surrenders. 

“Your first smart decision today,” he says with an amused huff, preparing himself for meeting you. 

“You got him,” you pant in pleasant surprise when you arrive at the scene. You look at him in exhausted awe and breathe, “Awesome.”

Awesome? He rolls his eyes as your resemblance to his moronic friends is uncanny. 

You eye the culprit sitting on the ground and look around. “Where’s the other one?” Katsuki frowns. Wasn’t there only one?

Suddenly, a chill ran down his spine, and his instincts roared in the back of his conscience. There’s a figure taking advantage of his lax state and attacking from behind, and there’s no time for Katsuki to dodge, so he prepares himself to take a hit. 

Before it landed, a hole ripped through the air before Katsuki and the accomplice fell in with a panicked cry. By the wall, a second hole reveals the suspect flying out against the concrete, successfully incapacitating him. 

“Thanks for the assist,” you say sincerely to the Explosion Hero. 

“No problem,” Katsuki murmurs, casting his eyes down. 

When you don’t say anything in response, he decides to introduce himself – as a coworker. 

“I’m Dynamight.” He watches your eyes shine your signature purple and conjure cuffs on the beaten-down criminals. 

“I know,” you laugh gently, scratching the back of your arm as you stretch it over your chest. “Your friends admire you a lot.”

Exchanging words with you for the first time didn’t turn out as Katsuki imagined. His ears glowing bright red, his palms sweating, and he’s a flustered wreck. 

“Those idiots,” he mumbles with a growl, halfheartedly cussing out Eijirou’s big mouth. “Don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“So, you’re not the hater?” You ask him dryly, and Katsuki can understand your sarcasm. “You can tell your friends I’m grateful the high and mighty helped me today.”

“Tell them yourself,” Katsuki retorts, crossing his gauntlets over his chest. “I suspect they like you more  than me at this point.” 

You only smile in jest. “Can you blame them?”

Your fluency in Japanese is laughable, but the enthusiasm is there, Katsuki notes. He watches as you pull out your phone and tap away at it while two suspects are in custody before you. 

“Shouldn’t you be taking these guys in?” he remarks, nodding in their direction.

“I’m looking up the nearest station. I don’t have the best sense of direction in newer areas.”

“Radio dispatch,” he says, because it’s protocol, and you should know that by now.

You sigh in frustration as if you’ve explained yourself several times before. 

“I haven’t received a radio yet. I think it involves some hazing from people in the Commission,” you say passively, pocketing your phone once you’ve pinned the location. “But it doesn’t matter because I don’t need it.”

“What ar-”

You don’t wait for Katsuki to understand before clasping your hands together in a prayer. In the next second, a vast hole rips open again, and Katsuki can’t make out what’s on the other side – like a purple-tinted mirror that reflects what’s in front of it. You don’t waste time to grab the men and shove them through with aggression. 

“I can handle filing the report, and I won’t forget to mention Lord Explosion God Dynamight made his appearance,” you tell him, stepping towards the portal. There’s a playful smile on your lips, and Katsuki can’t know if you’re joking. “I’ll see you around.”

You step through, and you and the portal disappear like you were never there with him. 

He still doesn’t know much about you, and if anything, that interaction only confused him more. But he knows you must have looked him up to call him his official hero title. 

He finishes the rest of his patrol without issue, wondering what he’d find the news saying next. 

#Katsuki is a nerd #he's so adorable #bakugo katuski #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader

[90ekz]

do you think you could write hcs of jean with a softspoken gf? nobody writes for him fr it’s so sad

an! i love jean and this concept anon ! im a soft spoken girl myself so this really hits home 🥹 i hope you enjoy!!

jean as your boyfriend <3

SFW

when you two first started dated, jean was convinced that he hit the lottery. you were everything he ever wanted and he loved a girl that kept to herself.

jean sometimes takes you to wing houses & burger joints and watches with a huge smile as you try to order your food against the chaos of the other people conversing around you. you weren’t the biggest fan of having to yell in public, but you tried your best, and his heart melts everytime.

when you first met him at connie’s house warming party, you bumped into him, spilling the contents of your cup onto his white button up. jean had turned beet red as you stood on your tippy toes to whisper a hurried apology into his ear over the sound of the blaring music, while rushing to go get paper towels.

his favorite thing about you is how attentively you listen. it doesn’t matter what he’s talking about, you’ll be making eye contact and nodding along to whatever he has to say.

gets irritated with you during arguments, because you well… don’t engage. he could be giving a verbal, ten page, double spaced paper about how irritated he is with you, and you’ll just look at him like you’re bored.

“all i’m saying is that you don’t have to get aggressive with me over this. yes, i was at armin’s late and didn’t say anything, but i’ll tell you next time, okay? i’m sorry.” “okay.” “i said sorry, damn! stop yelling!”

you aren’t the biggest fan of confrontation, but he is. connect the dots yourself.

“SHE SAID NO GODDAMN TOMATO!” “it’s fine, i can just take them off—“ “not now, baby. gimme a sec, okay? anyway, FIX HER FUCKING BURGER!”

the two of you communicate so silently that it freaks your friends the hell out. when you want to go home, when you’re tired, when he’s needy, when he’s irritated? easy, simple eye contact will send you or him springing into action to fix the problem.

you may be quiet, but you love to laugh. jean doesn’t think he can think of anything more angelic-sounding than the sound of your genuine laughter, only for him.

jean had to learn how to be more tender when doing daily tasks. he was so used to slamming doors and stomping up stairs that he didn’t remember to adjust that behavior when you moved in.

(the first week you moved in, he’d thrown open the door to your bedroom and felt his chest squeeze as you almost tumbled out of your desk chair. now he puts three gentle taps on every door when he needs to come in.)

physical touch fanatic. end of discussion.

NSFW

lemme tell you, this man takes it to heart when you try to hold in your moans. you’re a little embarrassed with how loud you get, but nothing turns jean on more.

“nuh uh, lemme hear you—need to hear how good i’m making you feel, princess..”

during your first time together, he’d almost cum in his pants at the mere sound of your loud groans bouncing off the walls.

loves when you pull his hair more than anything. he takes it as a sign to go harder, fuck you deeper, and he obliges everytime. his cock throbs harder each time you run your fingers through his loose curls.

about 5.7 inches roughly, but thick. his cock flares as it goes downward; the head being the slimmest part. giving him head is fun, you think.

jean has this weird little fixation with your neck. it doesn’t matter what position he has you in, he’ll have a hand—or his mouth—running across the skin of your throat. backshots? he’s got a hand pressing against your nape to keep you in place. missionary? he’s massaging his thumb over your throat so tenderly that it should be illegal. cowgirl? he’s squeezing the sides of your neck while whispering about how good of a girl you’re being for him. he’s pretty damn weird.

his favorite thing to do is eat you out. you deny it, but your voice shoots up a whole octave when he massages your gspot with his two fingers of choice as he suckles on your swollen clit.

utterly surprised at how much you talk during sex. it almost embarrasses him how much you beg, scream, and whine for him. a mixture of ‘please’s’ and ‘fuck’s being infused in his head for eternity.

“oouu—shit, you’re so fucking loud…”

presses down on your stomach to feel where he is so he can try and go deeper… yeah.

tries to fuck your throat hoarse just to hear your raspy voice for a few hours. you’re such a trooper, just sitting there and taking it for him, even if he laughs at you after.

“babe, i’m so sorry—hahaha!” “this isn’t funny, i sound like t-pain!” “I LIKE THE BARRRTENDERRR—ouch, im sorry, i said i’m sorry!”

aftercare god. he’ll spend hours taking care of you, washing your back in the tub, greasing your scalp, making you tea and cookies, the whole nine. this man loves you deep.

#jean kirschtein fluff #jean kirschtein scenarios #jean kirschtein x reader #jean smut #jean kirstein #jean kirschstein #jean kirschtein smut #jean kirschtein x you #jean kirschtein imagine #jean x black reader #jean kirschtein headcanons #jean kirschtien #aot x you #aot x black y/n #aot x female reader #aot imagines #aot smut #syno’s picks 💌 #i haven’t written abt him in so long thank you anon #curly hair jean supremacy !!!

[bluejayblueskies]

ten thousand flowers in spring | bluejayblueskies

[ID: Three photos of a hand-bound book from different angles that show the front, side, and back respectively. The book has dark green bookcloth, a decorative red and gold ribbon along the front cover and a black ribbon along the back cover, and a gold painted cherry blossom design on the front and back covers. The title and author name are also in gold on the front cover and spine and read, "Ten Thousand Flowers in Spring" and "bluejayblueskies." /End ID]

Last November, I got a Silhouette cutting machine for Black Friday. This weekend, I finally got the chance to use it for a bookbinding project! I bound my fic ten thousand flowers in spring as part of one of my Fandom Trumps Hate typesetting gifts, and I had a lot of fun going all-out with the flower iconography.

[ID: Two photos of the interior of the book. The first is the title page spread of the book, showing a pastel-colored painting of a cherry blossom-scattered hill with sheep and a shepherd that spans both pages. On the right page, there is the title "Ten Thousand Flowers in Spring" and the author name "bluejayblueskies" in a sans serif font. The second is the colophon (left) and table of contents (right) of the book. The colophon has details about the binder, the original fic, and the fonts and image sources used in the book. The table of contents has each chapter title and corresponding page number listed in a grid format with flower icons above each chapter title. /End ID]

Each chapter is titled after a flower that has a specific meaning that ties into the chapter content. I decided to style this bind after old botany books. Along with the cover, which is inspired by the covers of old botany books, each chapter header has an image of the titular flower pulled from public domain botany book scans, along with the flower's name and meaning below it.

[ID: The inside of the book, showing a page of text on the left and the chapter header on the right. The chapter header has an old-style image of blue salvia on it, with the name "blue salvia" and the meaning "friendship, family, thoughtful gestures, thinking of you" beneath it. /End ID]

Each chapter also begins with a faux-excerpt from the book Jon is writing throughout the fic:

[ID: The inside of the book, showing the introductory faux book excerpt on the left and the beginning chapter text on the right. The faux book text has an image of a flower beneath it; the beginning chapter text has a drop cap with a floral design at the beginning of it. /End ID]

Some more notes and pictures on process are below the cut!

The binding style of this fic is sewn boards binding, which I like for thinner books as the spine is much less fiddly to work with. It's also a really nice binding style in general because it eliminates my least-favorite part of the binding process: casing in. When casing in a regular case-bound book, you construct the entire case separately from the text block and then attach the case to the text block via the endpapers. Inevitably, I always end up just a little bit crooked, and because my brain currently refuses to let me try using paste instead of PVA, it's very hard to fix once the endpapers are pasted down.

With sewn boards binding, the boards are attached to the text block via an extra signature of folded cardstock on the ends of the text block. The case is then constructed directly onto the text block, and glueing the endpapers down is very, very easy and near-impossible to mess up.

The ends of the boards do end up exposed with this binding style. The first time I did it, I covered them with paper. This time, I painted them gold to match the cover:

[ID: A side view of the book, showing off the exposed boards near the spine which are painted gold. The front cover of the book can also be seen at an angle. /End ID]

I plan to experiment more in the future with potentially adding endbands to this binding style, as that's one thing I wish this book had that it does not.

For the cover design, I first cut out the stencils using my Silhouette:

[ID: A cutting mat with white vinyl stuck to it that has been cut and weeded to expose the backlit cherry blossom design. The title "Ten Thousand Flowers in Spring" and author name "bluejayblueskies" can be seen in the designs for the front cover and spine. /End ID]

I'd heard a lot of things about weeding, positive and negative, but I actually enjoyed doing the weeding on this 😂 it was like doing a puzzle in a way. I think I would like it less if I had to keep all of the tiny little pieces and make sure they looked nice, but as it was, all I had to do was remove them and it didn't matter if they got bent in the process.

The fabric paint I have dries very quickly, so I got very little bleed on my stencil and was able to remove it almost right away:

[ID: The back cover of the book with the vinyl stencil stuck to it, painted over somewhat messily with gold fabric paint. /End ID]

Overall, I was very happy with the stenciling process and will probably continue to do stencils as opposed to heat transfer vinyl unless I want to do some bigger, blockier designs in the future.

#the magnus archives #tma #jonmartin #ficbinding #bookbinding #jay's bound books #fanbinding

[yup-thats-me]

—UNO reverse • Geto. S

pairing : Husband! Geto x wife! Reader

summary : Y/n’s prank didn’t go as planned

Y/n was bored. Bored out of her mind. Her dear husband, Geto Suguru was out on an errand from their principal. Although Y/n had wanted to go with him, he had denied saying “There’s no point in you going with me. You’ll just get tired. I’ll be back soon,” and had left with a kiss on her forehead.

Deciding she’d use her phone for a while, she sat down on the couch hoping to come across something interesting. After about fifteen minutes of scrolling through dozens of videos on the app, something finally caught her attention.

The video showed a girl, wanting to prank her boyfriend had written a letter saying how she fell out of love with the man. She had kept the letter at a pace where the man could read and she hid herself in their closet. The result was horrible. The man had read the letter and in ten minutes, he had brought another woman into the room to get intimate with. The couple ended up breaking it off.

Although the outcome was cruel, Y/n wanted to try it herself with her husband. Surely, he wouldn’t do such a thing. The worst that could happen is that he would turn the world upside down to find Y/n, at least that’s what he had said when one-day Y/n had jokingly asked him what he’d do if Y/n were to ever leave him.

So began her plan. She grabbed a piece of paper laying around and a pen and began writing a letter that would tell Geto why she left. Initially, Y/n had thought it to be an easy work. But when she grabbed the pen to write, her hands didn’t move.

She couldn’t find a single reason why she’d ever leave Geto. It wouldn’t be bragging if she said he was the perfect man alive. He’d always leave home only after he had kissed Y/n goodbye, would always call beforehand to tell her that he’d arrive home late so that she wouldn’t stay up waiting for him (she did, anyway), anytime he’d go out of town for a mission, he’d always return with a big bouquet of her favorite flowers as an apology for staying away for so long if Y/n feels under the weather for some reason, he’d take it upon him to make her smile, he would also make the meals for the entire week when she gets her period and would go lengths to keep her happy during that week. The list wouldn't end. Y/n could write and finish all the empty pages in her house but the list of why Geto was perfect, would not end.

So, with much trouble, she was at last able to put together various lame excuses of why she “was leaving Geto.” As the letter was finished, she got a text from Geto. ‘Be home in ten minutes. Want something?’ The text made her smile to herself. Quickly replying with a ‘don’t want anything. Come home soon’, she ran to their bedroom to keep the letter and hide.

She decided to keep the letter on their bedside table under the lamp to make it noticeable. She then searched for her hiding spot in the room. The closet was filled with their clothes, the curtains were too see-through, and the corner of the room wouldn’t work. She finally settled for under the bed.

She quickly crawled under the bed and lay flat, trying hard to calm herself down. She was too excited for all of this. After about seven minutes of waiting, she heard the door open.

“Y/n? Darling, I’m home!” Geto called out as he kept some bags on the kitchen counter. Judging from his footsteps, he had checked all their rooms. When he couldn’t find her anywhere, he finally entered their bedroom in hopes of seeing his wife on the bed reading yet again another book.

When he found the room to be empty, he started to panic thinking some curse had gotten her, he quickly forced himself to calm down upon seeing the letter under the lamp.

The room fell silent and Y/n could only assume it was because he was reading her letter and was in shock. What was to her shock was that she heard Geto let out a laugh and mutter. “Fucking finally.”

The next thing she heard was him talking to someone. “Hey, baby? I’ve got great news! My wife finally left! Yeah, can you believe that? Anyway, come over! Can’t wait to see you baby!” He spoke merrily and left the room.

It took Y/n a few minutes to regain herself. It was just like the video she watched. She also got cheated by Geto Suguru, the perfect man in the entire universe!

She finally composed herself as she came out of her hiding spot. Unable to control herself, she sat on the floor, her tears finally flowing free. Who would think Geto was cheating on her the Geto Suguru cheating on his wife? Who would believe that? The two Jujutsu schools all across Japan knew how devoted Geto is to his wife. He worships the ground she walks on. And that man was cheating on her behind her back. The world we live in.

After what felt like hours, the door finally opened to reveal a smiling Geto leaning against the doorframe. “UNO reverse, my love,” he mocked playfully.

“…huh?”

Smiling still, Geto pulled her to his chest caressing her hair. “Did you not understand my love? I pranked you as well”, he revealed.

“Prank? So, you didn’t cheat on me?” She asked slowly, as if scared to hear him answer in any other answer other than no.

“No, my love. How could I ever?”

Hearing him, her tears finally stopped. In a weak attempt, she tried punching Geto on his back but her hands gave up, instead wrapping them around his shoulders and hugging him closer.

Geto carried her and sat her down on the bed but she was reluctant to let him go, making her sit on his lap instead. He didn’t mind, he was rather fond of having her in his lap. When her sniffles finally stopped, she turned to him, her eyes all bloodshot and puffy from crying.

“How did you know it was a prank…?”

Geto laughed again, booping her nose. “My sunshine, in all the excitement, you forgot to conceal your legs from my view, baby. I could see your slippers peeking from under the bed.”

Her face grew red in embarrassment. At last, it was her who shot herself in the leg. Okay it was her who gave herself away, but the call was a real one.

“Okay but who did you call then?”

Before he could answer, his phone rang. The very answer himself. Picking the call, Geto let out a sigh before Gojo could speak.

“Baby? Geto did you really call me baby? My god all my fantasies are coming true! I’m gonna die!” Gojo didn’t even let Geto say anything. Y/n giggled as she heard him through the speaker.

“Geto really? Are you leaving Y/n? Oh my god!” This time though, Geto was able to answer.

“Shut up, Satoru. I’m busy showering my wife with my never-ending love and affection.” His answer made the other sad, though. “Eh? Really? What a waste…But Geto, you should think over, you know. Maybe we cou—”

Before he could finish, Y/n cut him off. “Satoru, I’m going to kill you soon!” she said so threateningly but her usual sweetness was laced too. Geto felt a shiver up his spine upon hearing her.

“OKAY! SEE YA TOMORROW, GETO!” Gojo cut himself off as he hung up.

The couple stared at each other before bursting out laughing. Composing themselves, Y/n managed to ask the last question on her mind.

“Geto? How did you know the letter was a fake?”

Geto kissed her cheek. “Because, I know you well enough to say you won’t leave because I brought the wrong shade of the lipstick, now, will you?”

Y/n mentally facepalmed. She should have put more thought into the letter honestly. “You hungry, baby? I brought Chinese. Let go.” He again carried the woman downstairs, while she kept her hold strong on his shoulder.

do not copy, steal or translate my work to any other site. all rights reserved to yup-thats-me on tumblr

#geto suguru #suguru geto #jjk geto #jjk suguru #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru x you #geto x reader #geto x y/n #geto x you #geto x wife!reader #geto imagines #geto fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu geto #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #x reader #imagines #fanfiction #imagine #fanfic #x y/n #asks #blurb #anime fanfic

[saetoru]

#𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒

☰ SYNOPSIS ⋮ gojo satoru is a good ceo—but he just so happens to also be an even better boss

— pairing ⋮ ceo!gojo satoru x reader

— length ⋮ 3.3k words (why did this take me forever :/)

— contents ⋮ nsfw and 18+ content, fem! reader, ceo! au, assistant! reader, high key really shady and manipulative reader sobs, unrequited love, lovesick! gojo, unprofessional workplace relations, dry humping, blow jobs, orgasm delay, slight exhibitionism / semi-public sex (you suck him off under the table while someone is in the room + he fucks you over the desk when they leave), begging, teasing, slight brat taming, unprotected sex, he pulls out (for once LMAO), petnames (sweetheart, baby, princess)

— notes ⋮ for snow my beloveds im sucking off a ceo collab @suyacho ty for letting me join !! mwah 💋 also this is not proof read i am lazy rip

“satoru, are you done yet?” you whine, flopping over the couch in gojo’s office. of course, you’d expect nothing less than a sophisticated workspace for a sophisticated man such as him—and it’s certainly an extravagant setup, it makes for a nice atmosphere when you’re alone with him. 

he grunts, the sound of his pen scratching against paper ringing through your ears as he continues writing. “ten more minutes, baby.”

“you said that hours ago,” you huff. 

“‘s only been twenty minutes, sweetheart,” he chuckles, spinning his chair to face you with an amused look, “but…if you need attention so bad,” the pen finally, finally gets put down on the desk, and you brighten as his hand gestures you over, “then c’mere, baby.”

being a ceo is as anyone would deem, stressful. 

and now more than ever, gojo satoru is grateful for his snowy hair—otherwise, he thinks inheriting a business as young as he has would give him white hairs before he turns thirty. but coming into his office isn’t so bad if you’re there, looking pretty in your cute little blouse and your sweet scented lip gloss, clothes neatly ironed (and ready to be creased when he’s done with you.)

you’re the perfect assistant, always sweet and responsible, always making sure he’s done what he needs to do and is where he needs to be, always good at taking notes and organizing—and, you’re always good at relieving stress. 

very good, in fact. 

like right now, for example, making the stress roll off his body as you climb onto his lap and press your lips to his, giving him a perfect taste of the peach flavoring of your lip gloss—which is his favorite—and making him groan against your mouth. your hands fly to his soft tufts of hair, tugging gently at the roots and making him grunt. he should be getting these last few pages of paperwork done before his meeting (which you so kindly reminded him of before he forgot), but one taste of your lips has him too distracted to care. 

and plus, he’s the boss—he reasons it’s okay if he’s a little late here and there. 

“baby, we gotta make it quick, yeah? ‘s an important meeting,” he mumbles against your lips, panting slightly as you nibble on his bottom lip, grinding your hips to rub your clothed cunt over his hardening member through his slacks. he’s almost too easy to rile up, too easy to have perfectly dealt into the palm of your hands. and maybe, if you play your cards right, you might just fuck your way right to a promotion—or at the very least, a raise. 

in your short time being his assistant, you’ve learned that gojo satoru is almost too fun to work for. he’s young, doesn’t have those old-fashioned rules and outdated views, is lenient with hours and vacation and paid leave, and he even lets you have your own designated parking space. it’s a nice plus that he’s easy on the eyes and fucks you over his desk after hours—or during hours, if you’re being honest—and it’s an extra nice plus that he’s as quick to give into you as you are at trying to convince him. 

he’s a good ceo, sure, but he’s an even better boss. 

“jus’ send an email and postpone it for a bit,” you drawl sweetly, “want you, toru,” you whisper against his ear, making him moan as you rub over his hardened cock through his pants. his hands dig into your hips, guiding you to drag your cunt over his erection faster, drinking in your sweet whines as he rubs over your clit through the fabric. 

and just because you’re extra sweet today—and because you really want to come in late tomorrow—you quickly climb off his lap to sink down to your knees before him, making him let out a breathy chuckle as he spreads his legs wide for you to crawl between. 

“looks like you got better plans, huh sweetheart?” he grins down at you. anyone with eyes can see the lust that glazes his crystalline orbs, but you can see beneath that and recognize the fondness, the pure lovesick part that makes you swell with pride. gojo satoru is far too easy to have wrapped around your finger, and you plan on just twisting and twisting him around your well-manicured finger until he’s coiled around your every whim. 

“i can think of a thing or two you might like a bit more,” you say with a giggle. he watches through hooded eyes as you unbuckle his belt, sliding the zipper down before rubbing a hand over his thigh slowly, just close enough to where he needs you—but not quite.

he throws his head back and groans. “c’mon, baby. don’t tease,” he whines, making you giggle before tapping his leg, waiting for him to raise his hips so you can pull down his pants and boxers in one go. 

his cock is heavy between his legs, bobbing up and pulsing as pre cum oozes from the thick, reddened tip, making you grin as you lean in to press a delicate kiss to the head. he lets out a shaky exhale, watching as you delicately wrap a hand around him and squeeze at the tip, milking him of a bit more pre cum before smearing it over his length. 

“stressed, huh? working yourself to the bone?” you pout, faux sympathy lining your expression as you stare up at him with doe eyes. “my poor toru,” you murmur—the words are saccharine, seeping with sickeningly sweet affection, it’s borderline too obvious that it’s exaggerated. you almost want to laugh at how naive he is, how easily he makes it for you to play your cards, like he almost believes you won’t play your ace even as it sits in your hand. and you put a good show of being concerned, even going as far as to press a gentle kiss to his inner thigh, making his breath hitch in his throat. his heart spasms in his chest just a little at your words. 

my toru—he likes the idea of being yours. 

“you have no idea, baby,” he grunts, panting as you slowly stroke him, fisting his cock and squeezing at the base. “too many things to do—just need a fuckin’ break.”

“well, you deserve a break, toru,” you hum, gently cupping his balls and giving them a light squeeze, watching as his chest heaves as he moans lowly, “so let me give you one.” 

you watch happily as he greedily rolls his hips into your fist, searing the image of your boss’s lips caught between his teeth as he fights back the needy sounds threatening to bubble up his throat. you rub a thumb through his slit, twisting your hand around his swollen tip before dragging down his length with a tight grip. his forehead is a tad bit sweaty by now, his bangs clinging to the skin as his cheeks flush a soft shade of pink. gojo is pretty—too pretty. he’s certainly not immune to lingering stares and shy giggles from the other women in the office, women that could only hope to see him in the ways you do. 

it thrills you, really. watching him fall apart from the slightest bit of attention from you makes your ego rocket—and perhaps, maybe your bank account too if you’re lucky.

“yeah? gonna help me relax, sweetheart?”

“yes, sir,” you grin, making him groan at your words. with that, you wrap your lips around his cock, taking him down your throat and bobbing your head up and down as you swallow around him. he chokes, hand flying to the top of your head as the other grips the arm of his chair—knuckles turning white from the tight grip. 

“oh sh-shit, that’s it, sweetheart,” he whines, bucking his hips slightly and fucking into your warm mouth, moaning softly when your tongue traces over the thick vein on the underside of his cock. your hand still massages his balls slowly, the other pumping the base of his length where you can’t fit him in your mouth as your jaw slacks and you let him use you for his pleasure. “always take me so well, baby,” he breathes, “feels good—oh fuck.”

you let his hips snap up and rut into your mouth faster, slamming into the back of your throat as you feel his cock twitch in your mouth, as you feel him get closer to his high, as you feel him desperately chase the friction. the heaving of his chest harshens and the labored pants get increasingly more erratic as he feels the steady ache between his legs build up until—

“sir? do you have a moment?” there’s a knock on the door, one that makes gojo’s hips still and your eyes widen. quickly, he ushers you to crawl backward, pushing his chair in to cover himself and you under his desk as he clears his throat and quickly adjusts his appearance. 

“yes, come in,” he croaks, voice just a bit strained as his cock throbs, aching painfully from his orgasm dying down just before it could even hit him. 

the door opens and the soft clack of heels against the floor fills the room, making your eyes narrow as you hear whoever walks through the door approach gojo’s desk. 

“i was just wondering about the project you assigned me,” you hear a voice—and instantly, you roll your eyes. the new girl—whatever her name is—might as well attach herself to gojo’s hip at this rate, you think. you’ve always watched in amusement as she stalks up to him with clear hopes of his approval, always rolling your eyes and snorting at how she could only daydream about fantasies, only picture things that are your reality. but right now…right now is not the time for her to play teacher’s pet. 

“r-right,” gojo stutters, “i’ll go over details with you later. kinda in a rush for a meeting soon,” he chuckles nervously, hand tapping over his unfinished pile of papers from earlier. 

“oh, of course!” and you would be satisfied if not for her next words, “i’m really glad to be assigned this project, sir. i have big ideas!” 

instantly your mood sours. 

what a bitch, you think—it’s almost too obvious from the way her tone is far too enthusiastic and her goals are much too ambitious for a new employee for any of it to be genuine. you know a sweet-talking, rank-climbing, paycheck-grabbing employee when you see one, and you’ll be damned if some newbie thinks she can get away with that in the middle of your own attempts. with a slightly wicked grin as an idea pops into your head, you suck on the tip of gojo’s cock, making him jump slightly in his chair. 

“o-oh—good to hear, i like the enthusiasm,” he grunts, hissing slightly as your hand squeezes his balls tighter. you’re cruel—sucking only at his tip, ignoring the rest of his length even as you can all but feel the ache spreading through his cock. gojo is fighting every bone in his body to keep from bucking into your mouth with his hips to feel your mouth around the rest of him—it would give away the compromising situation a little too clearly. 

so instead, he clears his throat and brings a shaky hand to continue signing the papers in front of him. 

“are you okay, sir?” you hear the girl ask, making you roll your eyes at the clearly fake concern in her voice, “you look a bit—”

“i’m fine,” gojo says as he cuts her off (a little too quickly) and he offers a tight smile, “just uh…the air conditionings been awful in here. nothin’ to worry about, yeah?”

“oh, of course. 

“like i said, i’m r-really busy—like really busy, so we’ll discuss things later, yeah?”

“oh, that sounds—” he cuts her off with a harsh exhale, head falling into his hand as he grits his teeth when you slide your tongue along his slit slowly. “are you sure you’re okay—”

“j-just a headache,” he chuckles nervously, “nothing i’m not used to. now, if you’ll—” he hisses slightly when you swirl your tongue around his tip, “e-excuse me, i really need this paperwork done.”

“right,” she says, and you feel satisfied with just a twinge of pride when you hear her clear her throat and walk to the door, “i hope you feel better, sir. looking forward to our discussion.”

with that, the door opens and then shuts—and gojo instantly lets out a shaky, whiny little moan as he slumps back into his chair, letting you swallow around him a few more times before he clenches his jaw and cups the back of your head, stopping you. 

“sweetheart, that was risky,” he tuts, “what? just couldn’t wait? do i spoil you that much? i got you walkin’ around like the office princess, don’t i?” he pushes his chair back, his cock leaving your mouth, making you crawl from under his desk. 

before you can even say anything, gojo has you tugged to your feet by the wrist, bending you over his desk with your chest pressed plat against the surface as he pulls your skirt and underwear off in one go, making you gasp as his searing tip is tracing along your dripping entrance and tapping at your clit. he chuckles when you wriggle your hips back, trying to steal more friction from his cock until he tightens his grip on your waist and stills your movements. 

“toru, please,” you whine, pouting at him over your shoulder, making him hum as he leans down and presses a kiss to your shoulder. 

“i pamper you too damn much,” he scoffs, “that’s why you wanted to act like a brat with someone in the room, huh? want me to fuck you like a brat too, is that it?” you only whine when he slowly teases your folds with the first few inches of his cock, slipping into you slightly before pulling back out, rubbing the wet head of his cock over your clit as you grip the edge of the desk and whimper. 

“please, toru,” you pout again—but he’s not satisfied, doesn’t think he ever will be. there’s never enough of you, never enough to quench the everlasting thirst no matter how much he drinks you in. 

“c’mon baby, gotta gimme more than that,” he insists, and because he’s just a little mean, he shoves himself to the hilt in one go, making you squeal at the stretch as your legs shake. he chuckles lowly, keeps his hips painfully still as you try desperately to roll your hips back onto him for something—anything. but his grip is too strong, making you sniffle as frustrated tears collect at your lashes. 

“toru, need it so bad,” you plead. 

“need what? i wanna hear it,” he grins, “brats like you have to earn it, sweetheart. otherwise i’ll just sit here with my cock in you as i finish my paperwork. bet you’d like that too, though,” he laughs lowly, just a bit too smug. 

“want you to fuck me,” you sob, clit throbbing and pussy clenching down on his still cock as it curves into you just right. “right over your desk—wanna cum for you, want you to make a mess. please? please toru? always fuck me so good,” you add, making him twitch in your walls at your words. 

he groans, cursing under his breath at how quickly you turn the tables, so fast to turn him from smug to impatient as he all but pulls out before slamming himself deep into your tight cunt, making you mewl as his fat tip kisses against your sweet spot. he grunts, hands digging into your hips with a bruising grip as he feels your walls hug around him tightly. 

“f-fuck, gonna be the death of me, sweetheart,” he curses, rolling his hips as he bullies his length into your pussy over and over, the thick veins running along his shaft dragging against your walls, making your head spin and your spine burst with jolts of pleasure. “you like when i fuck you like this? bet you wish someone would walk in just to see you stuffed full of my cock, wouldn’t you? want them to see you get special treatment like the little princess you are?” he pants against your neck, hunched over your back as he continues to slam into you. 

you writhe under him, gasping as he splits you open with his cock, stretching your walls with his thick girth as his balls clap against your ass. it’s loud—the lewd, squelching of his length fucking into you and the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin mixing with both of your moans. you’re sure anyone passing by could hear exactly what’s going on—but somehow, that only excites you more, making an ache run through your core that only the harsh thrusts of gojo’s hips can soothe. 

“oh—toru, toru, more,” you wail, letting out a high-pitched whine when his hand trails over your hips to find your clit, fingers rubbing harsh circles over the sensitive bud. your legs quiver, the ache of your building orgasm between your legs clouding your vision and fogging your mind. you can’t think straight—can’t even comprehend that you’re screaming your boss’s name in the same building all your coworkers are in as well. “fuck, feels good—so, good,” you babble, thrusting your hips back and making him curve deeper into you. 

“yeah? that feel good, baby? then cum for me,” he pants into your ear, moaning softly as you clench down on him at the words, almost making it impossible for him to move with how tightly you flutter around him. “wanna feel you cum around me, sweetheart,” he groans, “please, gotta feel you—give it to me, princess.”

“toru! ‘m c-close, toru,” you say through breathy pants, and with that, you break, your orgasm ripping through you like a tidal wave as your mouth parts with a silent sob. gojo fucks into you through your high, tip slamming precisely against your sweet spot, making you gasp with each thrust, crying his name as the sensation borders on too much. his fingers are still working your clit, and as your hips twitch away from his touch from the overstimulation as you finish. he chokes on a gasp, cock twitching in you and indicating he’s just about to cum. 

“fuck, fuck, fuck—’m gonna cum, princess. g-gonna make me cum for you, sweetheart,” he whines, and with one more thrust, he pulls out of your warmth, hissing before pumping himself with his fist, stroking himself tight and fast as he falls over the edge and spills his seed across your ass. you feel the sticky ropes of cum paint your skin as gojo whimpers with each load that shoots from his tip, hips thrusting into his fist as he fucks himself through his high. “god—feels so good, baby. sh-shit.”

he finishes, slumping back onto his chair behind him, legs wobbly and weak as his chest rises and falls with each labored pant. you both catch your breaths, your body still sprawled over his desk as rolls his chair closer to you, hands rubbing slowly up and down the sides of your hips. 

“fuck, you’re something else, babe,” he chuckles quietly, “just what i needed before my meeting.” you grin to yourself as he leans down and presses a soft kiss to the side of your hip—and you think you have him just where you want him. 

“toru, ‘m gonna need to come in late tomorrow,” you mumble softly, taking the opportunity while you can, “and i need a few days off next week, kay?”

“of course, sweetheart,” he says instantly, mind still hazed from the post-orgasm bliss, making your eyes sparkle in victory. 

“thank you,” you giggle happily, “you’re my favorite boss i’ve ever had, you know?” and you can almost see the lovesick and pathetically giddy little grin he lets stretch across his lips from behind you.

“well, anything for my princess,” he hums happily, blissfully unaware of you reeling him tighter and tighter around your finger. 

© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik

#teepods.writings #thirstee! #fics. #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x y/n

[skyewritesstuff]

paper rings (mike's version)

my masterlist.

entry 2 in my (taylor’s version) songfic series.

summary: despite the recurring hardships, you and mike make a vow to stay together through it all.

pairing: mike schmidt x reader

fandom: five nights at freddy's

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, yall. :')

notes: based on "paper rings" by taylor swift. has been beta read. yall, i swear i'm going to leave the josh hutcherson tag alone for a bit after this, i promise lmao. i also know i need to update my masterlist. i'm going to do this soon!

word count: 3k

At this point in your life, you did not need an alarm clock. 6:30 in the morning started at 6:20 when you’d hear the tell-tale honk of your boyfriend Mike’s car being locked. You technically didn’t have to be up until 7:00 to get Abby up and ready so that she’d be on the bus right at 7:45, but you always liked to greet him when he walked in since work had never been something he’d regard as an easy part of his life.

You’d known Mike since high school. You’d been chemistry lab partners, occasional study partners, and then prom dates. It was as cliche as a “will they/won’t they” situation could be until you two separated after graduation. You’d gone off to college and Mike had stayed local. You didn’t reconnect until you ended up back home working as a nurse in the local hospital and one of Mike’s various work (fight) related injuries landed him in the ER. After reconnecting there and exchanging numbers, you began casually seeing Mike whenever you could. Sometimes he’d flake due to job and schedule changes, not feeling up to it, or needing to meet Abby's needs. That was until the dates became more frequent and it wasn’t so casual anymore. You then moved into his small home with him and Abby, sticking by him despite his numerous job changes.

You got up, putting your discarded pair of Hello Kitty pajama shorts back on despite the black t-shirt of Mike’s falling to a point where they were almost covered. You then wandered into the living room, still a little sleepy, but glad to see Mike after spending all night sleeping on your own.

“Hey, you…” You said with a yawn, reaching to take his vest and keys from him to hang them up.

“What are you doing up?” he asked, sounding rather groggy himself.

“You ask me that every single day…” You laugh, leaning in to gently kiss his lips, “I just want to be there for you as soon as you get home, because I’ve been on graveyard before and it’s the longest, shittiest night you can have.”

He leaned in and kissed you again, his lips curving up into a slight smile, “Thanks, baby…as always.”

You take his hand and begin to walk with him back towards your shared bedroom, knowing you only have about twenty minutes or so to lay with him before you have to get back up for Abby. Mike strips down to his boxers and then crawls into bed with a heavy sigh and you follow suit, not even bothering to take off your pajama pants knowing what little time you had was going to pass by in what felt like an instant.

“Things still super weird down there?” You ask, referencing the pizzeria where Mike had taken his security position.

“As fuckin’ always…” He mumbled as he scooted into your side, hiding his face in the side of your neck.

“I wouldn’t get too comfy, babe…I’ve gotta get Abby up and situated in like ten minutes.” You warned, only to get a passive ‘Mhm’ in response. “I’m just warning you.” You rolled your eyes affectionately, wrapping one arm around him, lacing it into his hair, and running your fingers through his hair as you picked up one of the random books he had on the bedside table. This was a book with photos of nature and wildlife in the mountains of Wisconsin. As you flipped through the pages, you were trying your best to avoid falling back to sleep. As much as you wanted to lay there with Mike, you knew that if you fell back to sleep it’d mean that Abby would miss the bus. You’d either have to take her to school yourself, causing your morning to be shot or she’d miss school altogether, ruining any chance at having a day at home with just you and Mike on your day off.

Right at 7:00, you carefully slid out of bed, putting a pillow in your place. This didn’t seem to phase Mike, who was sound asleep when you walked out of the bedroom to head across the hall to wake up Abby.

Abby was already awake, sitting up in her bed. She was still in her pajamas with a sketchbook in her lap and a crayon in her hand. She was drawing a very abstract-looking yellow rabbit when she looked up at you.

“Do I have to go?”

“Yes…Please get up and get the outfit we picked out last night, okay?”

“Is that Mike’s shirt?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Gross”

With only short instances of protest over what shoes to wear, brushing her hair, and the lack of orange juice in the house, Abby was ready for school. She collected her backpack and gave you a tight hug before running out the door towards the yellow vehicle. Once you were certain she got on safely, you headed back to the bedroom, yawning as you crawled back into the warm bed. You settled under the covers and then moved over next to Mike, who was now turned with his back towards your side of the bed. You wrapped your arms around him and pressed your lips to the back of his neck gently.

He stirred slightly, moving to rest his hands against yours before lacing them together. “Welcome back…” he murmured, “Abby on the bus?”

You nodded, “Mhm…even ate two bowls of cereal this morning.”

“Good work, baby.” he chuckled before turning towards you, wrapping both arms around your waist to snuggle into you. “I try.” You replied with a soft laugh, kissing his forehead. It wasn’t much longer before Mike was sound asleep again and you were starting to drift yourself. The blankets were just too soft and warm. Factor in Mike’s body heat and you were a goner from the start. Sleep took you over sooner rather than later and you found yourself snuggled up into Mike as you finally got to go back to sleep.

Roughly three hours later, you were woken back up by the sound of the trash truck coming to collect the garbage from the cans placed by the curb. You groaned, wanting nothing more than your peace back as you slept next to your boyfriend, but instead, your eyes didn’t feel as heavy anymore.

You turned to Mike, letting out a sigh of relief when you noticed how soundly he was sleeping. It wasn’t a normal occurrence by any means. Normally, he’d sleep for an hour or two before being jolted awake by nightmares from his past and whenever you could be there, you’d try to hold him and coax him back into what you hoped would be a more relaxing sleep.

Today, he was lying in your arms with his head on your chest, breathing slow and steady and his expression was peaceful. You stayed next to him, attempting to fall back to sleep to no avail for around an hour before deciding to slip out of bed and head to the kitchen. You began to prepare breakfast, despite it being almost noon, turning on the small radio in the kitchen so that music would softly begin to pour out of the speaker without being loud enough to wake Mike.

You were focused on the food, trying to make sure nothing burnt, blissfully unaware of Mike leaning against the wall in the entrance to the kitchen. “You know, I’ve told you before you don’t have to do all of this for me.” He sounded both sleepy and amused, but his sudden presence still caused you to jump, emitting a small gasp as your hand came to rest on his chest.

“Michael, I swear to God…”

He fully laughed this time as he watched your reaction with a smirk, “Cute”

“Not cute, you scared the shit out of me. How many times do I have to tell you to stop sneaking up on me?”

“What can I say? Maybe those creepy ass animatronics at work are rubbing off on me because I swear I’ve seen them move without anyone pushing the button…” He spoke, wrapping his arms around your waist, leaning into you. He knew you were a bit of a scaredy cat. You’d made it known several times how you could handle all the real-life gore of a lifetime at work, but horror movies…let alone being in an abandoned building for five nights a week…were an absolute no-go for you.

A chill ran through you, partially due to what Mike said and partially due to the kisses he kept casually pressing against your neck, “That’s so weird. I hate that. I hate that. Maybe they just kind of settle…like how the house settles and makes weird noises.”

“Or they’re possessed..” You could feel him shrug from behind you and you rolled your eyes.

“Like that happens…who’s going to pull a Chucky and voodoo their souls into a giant animatronic bear?”

“The world’s full of freaky people.” he said, letting go of you to go sit down at the table. You promptly turned on your heel and leaned back against the counter, prepared to drop the sarcastic comeback that immediately popped into the forefront of your brain.

“Oh, I know that for sure. You should meet my boyfriend.”

“I’d love to. He sounds like a winner. He’s probably pretty hot too.”

“You’re a loser.” You laughed.

“Please, at least your first jab was original. Your mother calls me a loser like that’s my actual job title.” He was also laughing despite the awful reality of his statement.

You sighed, “And that’s not true and you know that. She and your aunt are just shitty people and when we get our shit situated to the point that we do not need them…then, no contact and we live stress-free.”

You turned back to the stove and started plating the food as Mike replied, “I genuinely don’t think stress-free is ever something in my future.” Your heart sank as it always did whenever Mike would make a statement like this. He’d made one mistake, as a child nonetheless, and it’d started a chain of events that consumed his entire life. He deserved better and a much brighter future than the present you two were currently situated in.

“You know I love you, right?” you said, turning, and putting some of the plates on the table.

He nodded, looking a bit confused by your question, “Yeah…”

“So, let it be known, that if it’s the last thing I do…We’re going to have the best life. You, me, and Abs and we’re going to be fine..” You sat the rest of the food out and then walked over to his chair, nudging it with your foot so he’d scoot back from the table, allowing room for you to sit on his lap.

“I mean…If this is where I think it’s going, I’ll be more than fine.”

You pursed your lips, taking a deep breath before putting both hands on each side of his face. His hands were on your thighs, trailing upwards very slowly as if you wouldn’t notice. “Mike…focus…what I’m saying is…I’m with you. I’m with you no matter what and even if things are shitty and could be better, you’ve still got me and you’ve still got Abby at the end of the day. I know you’re going to tell me no…but again, if we got married the benefits would be there for you and possibly Abby and…”

He shook his head, “I’m not marrying you for benefits. That’s just…shitty. That's beyond my levels of shitty. I want to marry you, but not like that. You talk about me deserving better all the time, but you deserve better than that. You take care of all of us and haven’t ditched me even after I beat the ever-loving shit out of some guy at the mall. You’re a saint. If I can’t properly propose with like..a ring, candles, Abby not harassing me about when I’m going to do it like she’s been doing for the past…I don’t know…six months…then, I’m going to put it on hold.”

You chuckled at his comment, “You think too highly of me, baby boy.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist and raised an eyebrow, “Do I, though? You do all of this on the regular and I don’t even ask you, and in fact, I’ve told you to stop.”

You shrugged, still laughing softly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, “Just accept the love, Mike.”

You leaned in and kissed him gently. “You could do so much better, you know?” he stated. You kissed him again.

“How can I do that when I’ve already got the best?”

You spent the rest of the day with Mike, relaxing at home, watching TV, and napping off and on until Abby got home from school. Once her homework was done and everyone had dinner, Mike had gone to lay down for a bit to prepare for his nightly shift at Freddy’s and you were sitting at the table with Abby. Abby was drawing, per usual, and you were trying to finally put some of the pictures of Abby, you, Mike, and all three of you that you’d gotten developed placed into the frames you’d thrifted a few days prior.

“Why do we have to look at Mike any more than we have to?” she stated, eyeing a frame you’d just shut and were putting to the side containing a picture of the three of you on Abby’s last birthday.

You looked at her and then eyed the picture that she’d been drawing for the past hour. “That’s pretty bold coming from someone who puts him at the center of all of their artwork.” You laughed, causing her to immediately flip the paper over and act like nothing was there to begin with.

“You say that like you don’t pick on Mike too!” The younger girl rebutted. You shrugged in response. She had you there.

“You both just gang up on me. I’m outnumbered here. Two girls against me.”

You looked up and smiled, seeing Mike standing against the wall in a very similar stance as he’d appeared in the kitchen that morning.

“If you two have a baby and it’s a boy, we’ll all be even.”

“Abby!” You and Mike called her name in unison causing her to look up at the both of you as she flipped her drawing back around and grabbed a black crayon. No matter how long you and Mike spend informing Abby that she can’t just share whatever thought crosses her mind, all efforts seem to be futile. The comments should be expected at this point, but they still never ceased to shock not only you and Mike but her teachers and peers as well.

“What? I’m right.” she said, shaking her head before turning her attention back to the picture.

You let out a long sigh, sinking into your chair a little more as you went back to finishing the frames and Mike made coffee as part of his routine before work. He sat back at the table and took a sip, looking at what you were doing before looking at what Abby was doing. He sat his coffee mug on the table and took a piece of paper from Abby.

“Hey!”

“You’ve got like…twenty more pieces. You’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, but I could’ve had twenty-one!”

You rolled your eyes at the banter between the two siblings before putting the photo frames into a box so that you could start putting them out after Abby went to bed. You set the box aside and then turned your attention back to Abby and Mike. Abby was delicately coloring in the sky in her picture and Mike was ripping a small square out of the paper. You watched him carefully as he started folding the small square in a few different directions, his brows knit together in concentration.

You let your head come to rest on your hand as you watched Mike. He remained completely oblivious to your observations of him and kept working until the square of paper had been transformed into a small circular shape. He reached over and grabbed Abby’s red crayon, drawing something on top of it, and then put the crayon back before the girl even noticed its absence.

“What are you…”

Before you could finish your sentence, Mike had gotten out of his chair and dropped to one knee right in front of you, holding up a paper ring with a small misshapen heart drawn on top. Abby abruptly turned her attention to her brother’s action, the dark blue crayon in her hand falling to the floor as her jaw dropped slightly.

“Y/N L/N, I love you more than life itself…which doesn’t sound like it’s saying a lot coming from me, but I promise it is. You talk about giving me a good future, but I just want to do the same for you. You deserve so much more than I’ll ever be able to give you, but I promise I’ll love you for the rest of my life. Will you…one day…let me replace this with an actual engagement ring…and marry me?”

You couldn’t help the way your face heated up at his words, your hands coming to cover your face to try to hide your reaction.

“Are you serious? Is this real? Do you really want to marry her? Is this finally happening?” It all left Abby’s mouth in a string of what felt like run-on sentences.

“It’s not up to me anymore, Abs.” Mike said, nudging your leg with his free hand that wasn’t holding the ring.

You laughed, shaking your head as you removed both hands from your face and held your left hand out, earning a gasp out of Abby. “I’d marry you whether you replaced the ring or not. I just want you.”

Mike grinned and then slid the paper ring onto your finger, “Then, I’m yours.”

You grinned back before leaning in to kiss him, your left hand coming to rest on his cheek as he smiled into the kiss.

“Oh gross…no…let’s skip to the part where I get to pick out a pretty dress.”

“Abby!”

In paper rings, in picture frames, and all my dreams

Oh, you're the one I want

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x yn #mike schmidt x you #fnaf x reader #fnaf x you #fnaf x yn #josh hutcherson #fnaf movie #fanfiction #fanfic #taylor swift

[hellenhighwater]

Hi hello! So I saw your video about book binding and I wanted to offer a tip for people looking to try it out if that’s ok. So I’m working on binding a book right now and am following a YouTube tutorial. I’ve found most of the process pretty straight forward and relatively easy except for one step. The step where you cut the edge of the text block so that it’s all nice and even after you sew the signatures together. It sounds easy in theory but in practice I find it much harder so I found a solution. Instead of trying to even out the terrible job I did on cutting the pages I called my local staples and they said they’d be happy to give the edge of the text block a neat straight cut using their industrial paper cutter if I bring it by. I’m not sure if every staples would be up for this or have an industrial paper cutter but I figured it might be worth a shot if anyone else struggles with this step of the process. Will update with costs and results when I return from staples in a couple hours.

Staples update: it cost $8 CAD to get the edges of my text block trimmed it would’ve only been like $3 but then I would’ve need to wait a day to pick it up and I need to finish the project today so I had to pay extra for a rush order. Other than that though they did a fabulous job!! It’s so crispy and neat now I am in love with it. I would probably do it again but I would plan better so I don’t need to pay for a rush order lol

Good tip, anon! I've also done that, because trimming text blocks sucks tremendously and it's surprisingly hard to do well.

I will point out that you're likelier to have luck getting someone to do this at a local print shop as opposed to a franchise like Staples. Local shops are usually more able to give you a random price for a weird job, and sometimes the franchises wind up with cashiers that go "I don't have a button on the register for that so we can't do it," even though nobody's going to inventory how many chops the commercial guillotine did and I will hand you ten dollars cash money to go chop my text block. Most print shops will indeed have an industrial cutter, because almost any print shop is going to offer printing services that include full-bleed orders, which means trimming.

Anyway. Go local, and if there's any flexibility to the spine of your text block, make sure that the employee doing the chopping knows exactly how it needs to be positioned during cutting. And also give them registration marks to trim to.

#your local print shop can probably also do perfect binding on your small books if you ever want that #but thats sort of not what most people who are handmaking books want to have anyways

[forthelostones]

𝚙𝚝.𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 ; 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 ─── ⋆

⟡⋆˙୨ᥫ᭡. 𝚗𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚞 - 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎!𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚢 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛ᥫ᭡.୧⋆˙⟡

synopsis: abby was a woman whose presence was becoming deeply irresistible to you. in your final year of nursing school, you toil with the idea of pursuing her — ruin what you have or enjoy what’s in front of you?

warnings. 18+ (mdni); sub!abby, domsub!abby, sexual themes, jealousy, fluff, nickname: dummy, and modern au - pre-established relation.

an: guys. this has been such a crazy ride, thanks for the support on both of my stories. it means so much to me. sorry for the wait... lets get it.

CLICK HERE.

(no y/n)

Abby watched from the row behind you, observing how you chewed on the end of that neon #2 pencil. She could tell by the bobbing of your leg that you were nervous and stuck on a specific question. It was the same during studying — chew, bob, sigh. Almost on cue, a frustrated sigh left your throat. She knew it was her fault that this was happening.

She knew neither of you studied long enough for you to feel confident on this exam. Well, that’s what she kept trying to convince herself, she was already finishing up the last page. Although her pencil glided on the paper effortlessly, she couldn’t help but be distracted by your indecisiveness on the math equations and multiple-choice questions. The once full eraser had been subsided to pure metal scrapping into the pages.

The time on her watch read ten minutes left until the end of the exam and you were only on page two. Studying had become harder for you with Abby around. It wasn’t only the dating component it was mostly the difference in your skills. Her ability to memorize vocabulary and complete math problems without thinking twice about them made you academically insecure. While you averaged low B’s and high C’s, she had a 4.0 and made it look easy. The clock's ticking distracts you from the problem you are trying to solve. It was one you and Abby worked on multiple times, yet you’re frozen, unsure how to solve it. As everyone flicks their pages to finish, you just … froze. 

“Okay. Pencils down.” Your professor said just moments after you started a new equation. Your jaw dropped slightly and you squeezed your eyes shut. Abby shook her head, not at you specifically, but herself. You had practically moved in and the nights that would typically be spent studying were now used to learn more about each other beyond your friendship. Realistically, Abby understood that those moments would be worth more than a grade in the long run. But a part of her also resented getting this comfortable, ultimately impacting you. The feelings clashed within her. The heat forming inside of you could only be described as embarrassment. Why was it like your brain suddenly lost all power to its systems? It wasn’t unusual for you to skip a few questions but this was completely unlike you. 

You chew on your cuticles and fold the mostly blank pages and pass them down to the front, doing the same for your classmates. Their pages crumbled with computation answers and confidently filled bubbles exposed your shortcomings. You should feel relieved that the test is over but you don’t. A heavy anchor grounded you but you were still floating. Abby met you down in your row where you saw her concealing another A-plus smirk. Once you both exited into the hall Abby’s hand finds the center of your back and she begins to pet it slowly. You shrug her away gently. 

“Don’t.” You sigh. 

Abby knew it would set you off but she did it anyway to show you she sees you. The blonde’s brain was moving at a rapid pace. She so deeply wanted to ask you about the challenging problems and the scenarios on the quiz. Her translucent lashes tapped frantically as she imagined the sheet of paper behind her eyes. 

“I feel good about this one.” She finally says. 

“Good. I really did not do well. It’s — whatever. Right?” 

Abby looks to you and she couldn’t lie and tell you that it’s not just whatever. It’s your future. Both of your futures — together — it was important to Abby that her partner was just as successful as her. 

“You should be happy that you did your best but understand that if you did do as bad as you think, it’s worth asking for a makeup to understand the material.” She suggested. 

You hated when she got like this, rigid. Her posture was straight, her mouth set hard, and no softness found anywhere on her face. The regime her father instilled in her stayed and it was evident in moments like this. 

“Abby, sometimes I really need you to just listen to me and be rational later.” 

A chill followed down her spine following your sharp comment. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t study together anymore.” She muttered.

Part of you wanted that to be a joke but knew it wasn’t. The night before proved itself to be deeply uneventful for the both of you. 

“You’re distracting me.” You groan as you’re reviewing flashcards on Abby’s bed, the first mistake. She was wearing a thin, white tank top and a pair of loose black sweats, untied, on her hips. Her hair was drying from the shower you two just took and so was her body. The outline of her features was accentuated by the water being absorbed by the cotton. She was so casually beautiful and simply yours. The bed shifted behind you, her weight bending the mattress inwards, as she crawled towards you.

“Am I?” She asks, using the tip of her tongue to playfully lick a stripe of slick up towards your lobe. An instant bubble of relief popped inside of you. “Okay. Okay.” 

Abby couldn’t take her eyes away from you. She had seen you in this robe every night now but it was something about how it was gliding with you. As well as your skin's glint from your body oil makes you look regal. You sat at the base of the bed while Abby retreated towards the headboard, leg tucked under her butt. She took off three inches of hair and it looked so fresh, carving out her face perfectly, and highlighting her stiff jawline. “How about we make a deal?” She said brazenly. 

“What?” 

“For each answer I get right you remove something?” 

“Abby,” you chuckle, not denying her advances. 

You thumb the index cards in your hand and turn to tie your eyes with hers. 

“First question, the section is Anatomy and Physio. What best describes endocrine glands?” You ask. 

Abby taps her chin as if she’s searching for the answer. “They secrete chemicals into the blood, growth, metabolism, sexual development and function.” 

She raises her eyebrows and shoots her eyes towards your robe. A deal is a deal so you remove the silk, leaving you in your two-piece pajama set. Abby notices the goosebumps lining the outsides of your shoulders and can’t help but desire to rub them warm. 

“Question number two. Anaerobic respiration can lead to a burning sensation caused by which molecule?” 

“Easy,” she scuffed. “Lactic Acid.”

Her teeth appeared behind her Cheshire grin as your top found its way onto her floor. 

“Good job.” 

Your words made her cunt pulse. 

“The mediastinum is located within which cavity?” You ask. 

Abby’s face fell instantly. The outline of your nipples looked delicious and icy, she needed them in her palms immediately. “Fuck. I don’t know.” 

You lift yourself off the bed and bend right in front of her to retrieve your shirt, Abby’s shadow overcame you and her hips thrust into your ass in one motion. She spins you around to face her, mouths inches away. “Do you think you’re going to actually put that back on?” 

Her index finger traced the outline of your lips with her eyes following. You grip her wrist, halting her movements, “And if I do?” 

Abby gently places the index cards neatly on her bedside table and presses you into the wall behind you. Usually, Abby is submissive but the stalking woman imposed her strength on you, like she’s been wanting to do from the first time she saw you in clinicals. 

“I’ll just rip it off you.” She giggles. 

“Would that be so bad?” You reply, bringing her finger into your mouth, sucking it then adding another. Abby huffed a keen groan as she bent down onto her knees, immediately pressing her mouth into your cunt. She lapped at the fabric separating her from you and didn’t even ask for you to remove them. 

You insisted by beginning to take them off but she tore them off you and hoisting up one leg onto her shoulder following the other one. 

“Abby.” You gasp. 

“I got you, hold onto me.” 

She was flexing her skill by fine-tuning your pussy with her tongue while she slowly hoisted you up towards the ceiling. Not only did you feel as if you were floating, you actually were. She was a show off but you fucking loved it. 

After that, there was no more studying done.

“Do you think we should cut down on the time we're spending together?” You question, as the night replays in your mind. 

Abby’s face scrunched up in immediate disapproval without hesitation at the suggestion. She pulled her bottom lip slightly in her mouth and looked around as if the walls suddenly grew eyes. Abby wanted to tell you no but she knew what had to be done. 

“We can.” She grimaced with a shrug. 

Despite all the time you spent together the girlfriend conversation had yet to come up. She thought about it the most when you were in her presence. She didn’t comprehend how you liked her so much and yet, you refused to make it official. She truly believed that once you ditched Ellie she’d be over the moon, but right now it’s feeling the same and Abby doesn’t do stagnant. 

“Abby, we can still study together, in the library, several feet away from each other.” 

She forced a smile. “Fine. Does this mean you’ll still sleepover?” 

Before your crush on Abby developed you were denying yourself the fact that it was possible. But during this time, before the dating, your grades had been the best when you were alone, and you know for a fact, that it was because of her. You may not be as smart as Abby but you do want to come out on the other end with a degree too. 

“Why don’t we come up with a schedule?” She suggests.  

“That would be perfect.” You said. 

The schedule consisted of dinners at Abby’s during the week, sleepovers on non-clinical days which were Wednesdays and Fridays, and studying every day at the library. Abby liked the organization but her body had gotten so used to you beside her. A week into implementing the new schedule Abby felt an immense amount of anxiety without you around. She didn’t know how to break down the feeling and why it was so persistent. Although you two were next door to each other, text messages still provided a temporary cushion for her sadness, but it wasn’t enough. 

Abby clicked the icon that was the home for your name and called but there was no answer. Dinner was stewing on the stove, and in the middle of mixing a cocktail, Abby called to find out if you could taste what was missing. Another call led to another one and soon Abby was sitting with a candle flickering silently in front of her. Your plate sat untouched and she just picked at the remnants of hers. 

Little did she know you were closed off in your room after studying, panicking. You knew yourself more than you wanted to. The schedule was needed for you to clear your brain on the feelings you had for Abby. With upcoming exams and graduation where would that leave you? She'd move across the world while you were huddled up in your small town's hospital circulation? It was coming in so fast and before you could mix in a girlfriend you had to know what you wanted. The pages of your journal turned soft as you tore your pen through the book. 

A part of you wanted to hear the rapping of her fist against your door, ready to envelop you and reassure you that you would figure it out. She never came and because of that, a piece of you died. Conversations with her have turned short and passive since the last exam. It wasn’t just the exam it was a culmination of multiple things that either of you were ready to talk about. 

Abby put your dinner into a glass container and waited outside your door trying to gain the sense to knock. One of the many nights you spent together gave her a reason to knock instead of sulk in her bed, thinking about all of her shortcomings in the relationship. You were both lying down and Abby lit a candle that night that you bought her. The sweet scent of peaches and cream cut through the bitter smell of her pine products. She loved it. Between the sheets were your naked bodies damp and lazy. Abby had brought a glass of cold ice water and set it on the nightstand beside the candle. You took turns taking sips. 

“Thank you for the water.” You smiled. 

“Don’t mention it,” She nudged you. 

You twist your body onto your stomach and look up to her glimmering, post-sex face. 

“Abby?” 

“Yes, beautiful?” 

“You still make me nervous.” 

She cackles and brings her hand to your cheek and massages away your imperfections. With the roll of her eyes she licks her lips before curating a snarky response. But she quickly realizes you’re being serious. “Why?” 

“I care so much about you and that’s something I haven’t felt before. With anyone.”

A kind pause swells between you both. 

“I care about you too. I don’t want that to make you nervous.” She said. 

“I know you see me differently but I am a little insecure.” 

She leans down and kisses your forehead tenderly without a breath. 

“That’s normal.” 

“But I burrow. I distance myself when I get like that and I don’t want to subject you to that. I don’t want to hurt your feelings again. If I do that, get distant, don’t hesitate to just tell me to get out of my own head. It’s not your fault or your responsibility.” 

Abby’s fist banged on the door with your words echoing in her mind. The thuds startled you out of the sleepy daze you fell under. You shuffle to the door to see the goofy blonde in her pajamas and slippers holding what was supposed to be tonights shared dinner. 

“You didn’t come to dinner,” Her voice was more welcoming than usual. “I was worried. Are you okay?”

Shoving her way past you and nearly tossed the container on the kitchen counter. Without hesitation she opened her arms and you couldn’t help but to run into them. Although she didn’t say anything the affirmation from her presence was enough. 

“All too much in your head again aren’t you?” 

A sob escaped into her chest and she gripped you tighter. These past few days have been a blunder of confusing thoughts. A part of you knew getting together with Abby would make things unclear in your life. But if she was willing to get uncomfortable and support you, you were obligated to do the same to her.

“Abby, I should’ve answered your calls.” You pull away to notice how unswayed she is of your state.

“You should have but that doesn’t matter right now. We need to talk.”

You nod your head seldomly and she grips your hand and takes you to your bedroom. Abby pats beside herself to welcome you.

“I’m so scared.” You blurt out.

“Me too,”

Abby was scared for the complete opposite reason. When she was with you it seemed like all the decorative things such as school didn’t matter. She wasn’t familiar with how that felt. To have an identity outside of her accomplishments or care about someone. With you, she could flunk out of nursing school, move back to her home town, and still be satisfied. That scared her — that one person could allow her to have such a paradigm shift.

Hearing Abby say those words made your heart settle.

“I care so much about you. I didn’t think I would, this much. I should’ve known because on orientation when I saw you I thought, ‘I need to know who she is’ and I am grateful for that thought blossoming into my mind.”

You couldn’t muster any other word but her name. She picked up your hands to bring them into her lap. She leaned in to place a soft kiss on your mouth and lingered there with her forehead pressed against yours.

“When you moved next door, I just thought maybe this is the sign I need to do something different. To not let my ambitions lead me but instead my heart. And my heart loves you, Dummy.”

#abby anderson smut #abby smut #abby anderson x you #abby x reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby the last of us #lesbian #abby anderson #abby tlou

[olderthannetfic]

Some more book care tips, for people who have a nice copy that they don't want to destroy in a few decades (paperback or hardback, high or low quality).

Don't use newspaper as a long term bookmark. It's acidic as hell and will eat through a page. The same goes for cheap note paper, toilet paper, and reciepts, though newpaper is by far the worst. Find a scrap of regular printer paper for any bookmark that might get left in for a matter or years rather than days (eg, reference notes and favourite passages). Any bookmark that's left in for half a decade will leave a mark as the two papers age differently, but anything acidic will degrade the paper, and newspaper will burn through the page.

NO SCOTCH TAPE. Please, stop taping accidental tears, you will regret it in ten years when the adhesive turns into horrible sticky dust and the plastic starts crumbling. You can repair a tear with (acid free) tissue paper and craft glue, which sounds fancy but it actually as easy as using tape.

If you want to write in a book, grab a pen with acid-free "archival" ink. I've seen century old paper with holes in the shape letters where an acidic ink ate through the page. Most half decent writing pens that can be expected to write a whole page without clogging are acid-free.

And, if possible, place your bookshelf somewhere that doesn't get direct sunlight, isn't right on an air conditioning vent, and is not too close to a kitchen stove. Books are designed to be stored on a shelf in the long term, they don't need any special storage unless they're already damaged or very very old, but they will fade in the sunlight, and humidity fluctuations and grease and smoke from cooking can cause issues over time.

--

[cevansbaby-dove]

Lust Royale 1

Pairing:Dark!Andy Barber X Dark! Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: When Y/N is away on a mission with her boss, Steve, everything seemed to go well, until a dark figure in the form of Andy Barber appeared. From the moment he laid eyes on Y/N he knows he has to have her, and he's willing to do anything he can to get what's rightfully his. Little does he know that Steve is going in with that same mindset, wanting to protect Y/N at all costs, so he can have her for himself.

Steve was waiting for you in the office before Alexander walked into the room. "Rogers where is your sidekick? is she late yet again?"

You open the big doors and walk in wearing a white blouse and black pants.

You sit down at the table and say. "Sorry I'm late boys...Shall we get on with this?"

"Steve was just being updated on the upcoming mission." Pierce said as he looks at his notes. Steve looks at you and bites his lip and then says. "you sure you want to do this?"

You nod. "Just tell me where I'm going, and I'll make sure to get you what you need sir."

Steve nods and then says to Pierce. "She's honest at least"

Pierce hands you and Steve some papers and says. "the jet leaves in ten" He walks out and you flip the pages of the mission report and say. "Easy as pie"

Steve smiles. "This is why i like you being on my team L/N you very smart" You smirk. "Come on we'll be late"

You two walk out and you put on sneakers and then grab your gun and Steve Walks out in his suit.

You smile and he says. "Hey you look good..like a baddie"

"yea yea Rogers" You two get on the jet and Steve can't take his eyes off of you as you two sit on the bench as the jet takes off.

He wanted you if you gave him a chance but you were always saying Nothing more then a team with him...You didn't want to be distracted by Golden boy Rogers.

When the plane lands you walk out and Hear gun shots and Steve grabs your arm. "Stay with..me!" You press your lips together and pull away. "Watch and learn"

You take off running and end up shooting some Aliens and You didn't know but a bystander was keeping his eyes on every...single...Move you made.

That man was Andy, a widower, his son died and wife in a car crash and Your the girl he wanted to make HIS.

He takes a step back into the alley when Steve rushes to you saying. "Your reckless Agent L/N!"

You look at Steve. "Fuck off then Rogers" You were in control of this mission and you'd be damned if Rogers had to be the hero!

After the mission you and Steve came back to the tower and Steve was pissed that you'd do what you just did.

"Y/N we are not done talking" You turn around. "I am done talking about this! I had it handled"

Steve grabs your arm as you turn. "You want to be part of this team then fucking be PART of it or Leave!"

You were fuming so you say. "Fuck You Rogers!"

Tony says as he took a sip of his drink. "You two fight like lovers! Why not come to my party tonight? i have some friends coming with"

You look over at Tony and say. "Yea sure i might have fun for once" You look back at Steve and he sighs.

"See you then Agent" He turns and walks away.

Tony walks over to you. "What happened?" You look at him telling how you didn't wait for Rogers.

Later that day you changed into this dress.

You fix your hair and look out the tower at the city lights. You sigh then turn and grab your phone and walk out of your room and Steve is there by the wall.

You smile lightly. "Cap" He says as he looks at you. "Y/N look i want to say sorry for what i said...I just want to make sure your safe"

You nod. "I am Rogers, I forgive you and i am sorry too i didn't mean to get mad at you...Your just looking out for me"

He nods standing straight. "Yes i am you um..mean a lot to me" he looks right at you and you nod. "we'll be late" Steve follows you to the elevator letting you walk in first. "thanks"

You two walk in and Steve says. "Want a drink?" You nod. "Sure thank you"

He nods and you look around and see a tall man in a suit you walk over. "Hey i didn't think this was going to be a business kind of party"

The man looks at you. "Oh i'm sorry Stark asked me but he didn't tell me there would be a lovely lady like you" he holds his hand out to you. "I'm Andy"

You smile shaking his large hand. "Nice to meet you Andy I'm Y/N"

Andy Smiled at you then his eyes meet Steve's and he let's his hand drop and Steve walks up by your side. "Here you are"

You take the drink. "Thank you Captain. Oh This is Andy, Andy This is Steve"

Steve's eyes met Andy's and he doesn't smile back but he says "Nice to meet you i didn't think we invited you here"

"Tony did" Andy said without a smile. He glances at you and says. "So tell me about yourself"

Steve's eyes darkened as you and Andy spoke. "Y/N we should go talk to other's here"

You look at Andy and say. "I'm sorry but it was nice meeting you" Andy nods. "Yes of coarse see you around." You smile. "see you"

Later that night you look around the tower even through you have been on the team for a year you still got lost in the tower.

You look around and wonder where you went wrong or the wrong turn. You turn around and crash into Steve's body.

"Shit" You said looking up at him. "Are you lost Sunshine?" You say. "Um yes i seem to be" You laughed lightly. "Can i help you?" he smiles. "No but you could use help"

He holds his arm out to you and says. "Come with me" You lightly hook your arm in his and he leads you back to the party.

Steve smiles and Andy is over at the bar talking his ass off to Natasha.

He turns and looks at you and you can feel his eyes on you as you smile talking to Steve.

You say to Steve. "Thank you for helping me find my way back Steve you would think after living here for a year i'd know my way around" Steve smiles and says. "I can stay by your side if need be"

You nod. "Sure thank you"

After the party you run into andy. "hey sweets can i ask you out or is Steve trying to tell me yours HIS?"

You look around. "what no he's not my boyfriend he's my boss god nope"

He nods. "Well here's my card if you want to call me i'd be glad to hear your cute voice"

You take his card with a small smile. "thank you Mister Barber" "Aw sweets call me Andy please" You nod. "Sure Andy have a good night"

Steve walks by you and says. "Y/n Tony is asking for you" He lied. You nod. "Alright bye Andy" he waves and you walk away and Steve says. "Back off from her she's taken"

Andy chuckles. "thats not what she told me, your her boss..." He echoed your words.

"I won't ask again barber...back...off" Andy nods. "Have a good night as well" he walks out and you walk back saying "Tony said he didn't ask for me."

Steve folds his arms on his chest. "Y/N you know how i care about you right?"

You bite your lip then nod. "Yes sir" Steve's eyes go wide hearing those words...Sir Damn those words made his cock twitch. "Ahem right...Please stay away from the man you just met...I don't trust him"

You roll your eyes. "Steve come on don't be like this" He walks closer to you. "Please for once do as i say" he kisses your cheek and that makes you say. "that's it?"

Steve look into your eyes. "What?" You fold your arms. "Just a kiss on the cheek?"

He smiles. "This time darling" You both go back to your own rooms for the night and you don't fall asleep right away.

Shit...did you just hit on your boss...what about the other man? Was this going to bad for your mind during missions if you kept this up?

tags: @patzammit @nicoline1998enilocin @cutedisneygrl @armystay89

#dark steve rogers #steve rogers angst #soft!dark steve rogers #andy barber au #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber smut #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n

[eastleighsblog]

Multiplayer game

This is a story I commissioned from the amazing goldenhoney-cas if you would like to commission a story please go to them they do an amazing job , they keep you up to date and are exteremly resonable with their prices , there are three chapters of this story of you would like me to post the second and third parts let me know

Warnings: Smut, dubcon, somnophilia, loss of virginity, fingering, oral (male and female receiving), threesome, pervy skz, unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating, (light) exhibitionism/voyeurism, minor oral fixation, dom/sub dynamics, implied panty kink, begging, multiple orgasms, a single edging, some degredation and praise

Studying wasn’t your favorite pastime, and it certainly wasn’t your favorite way to spend your mornings. But it was just past ten in the morning, and you were cozied up in your favorite cafe, a warm drink in your hand and your notes spread across the table closest to the door (makes for an easy escape when you finally finish, after all). Your laptop screen threatened to go dark the longer you stared at it without moving a muscle, but that wasn’t enough to bring you to type anything.

Studying even when you’d rather be doing anything else was part of your plan to make this year of university better than the previous ones. Which was in turn the first step in your big, looming plan to get your life all sorted out the way that you wanted it to be. So you sucked it up, and took a drink of your coffee, and sighed as it warmed you from the inside out.

You flipped the page of your book, glancing up passively each time that the door to the cafe swung open and made the little bell up above it jingle gently. Studying was always rough, but it was a little easier when you had something to look forward to. So you had come here, bought yourself a drink, and promised yourself one of the absolutely delectable cinnamon sugar muffins that you loved so much once you were all finished with your assignments.

The air outside was crisp and cool, blowing in with each new customer, and you’d taken to spreading your hands over your papers so the sweeping gusts of air wouldn’t take your work with it. But as the door opened again, your reflexes weren’t quite quick enough. The loose papers on your table scattered, fluttering to the floor like the first fall of snow that was looming just around the corner. You cursed, and not as quietly as you probably should have. That of course drew the attention of the two men who had walked in, and an older couple sitting nearby. You flashed the couple an apologetic smile, but the woman laughed, clearly not too bothered by it.

“Sorry,” A nervous chuckle caught your attention, drawing it back to the situation at hand. You stood up to gather your papers, but one of the men had already gathered them and was offering them back to you. He smiled, and your heart did a nervous little flip-flop in your chest.

“No, no, it’s not your fault. I wasn’t paying attention to the door,” You took the papers from him, carefully putting them back in order and sliding the now neat stack into your folder. “Thank you for your help, you really didn’t need to do that.”

He shook his head, and there was that smile again. He was too pretty for his own good, and yours too actually because you were pretty sure that there was an incriminating blush climbing up your neck.

“It’s not a problem. I’m Chan by the way. That’s Minho.” He introduced himself, then motioned towards the friend that had come in with him. He was stunning too, a little bit taller than Chan, with chocolate brown hair that framed his face just right. You smiled at him, and he raised a hand in greeting, his lips curving every so slightly into an enticing, barely-there smile.

“I’m Eastleigh. Nice to meet you guys.” You turned back to the homework you’d been staring at mindlessly. You hadn’t made too terribly much progress, but your brain was beginning to go numb, and with two handsome men in the building you weren’t sure how committed your focus would really be. You closed your laptop. “How about I buy your drinks? To repay you for being so sweet and saving me from complete humiliation.”

They both insisted it wasn’t necessary, but you refused to back down, half wanting to show that their kindness was truly appreciated, and half just wanting to spend a few more moments with them. And with a bit of pushing and a little pout on your lips, they eventually gave in and let you buy their coffees. Minho, however, did manage to pay for the pastries they got.

“Do you mind if we sit with you for a little bit?” Chan asked. You hesitated, but it was damn near impossible to turn down such an offer. So you nodded, returning to your seat to clear space for them while they waited for their drinks.

When they came back, they both settled so they were facing you, looking at you like they were trying to memorize you. It was exhilarating honestly, having two unreasonably attractive men look at you that way. Minho sipped his coffee, iced despite the chill setting in at this time of year.

“So, what’s all that work you were doing? University?” Chan asked, leaning forward, eager to learn more about you. You were grateful for his friendly demeanor to break through whatever nerves were settling inside of you. You loved meeting new people and making friends, but you were a bit rusty at it at this point. You nodded.

“Yeah, I go to school near here,” You told them. They both made little noises of recognition, and you had to laugh at how impressed they seemed. “Are you guys in school?”

Minho shook his head as you brought your drink to your lips. He watched you sip the warm liquid, waiting for them to continue.

“No, we work together. We’re, ah, we’re musicians.” Chan said, trying to piece his words together as smoothly as he could without giving their identities away right off the bat. “We didn’t go to university. But your dedication is amazing. I didn’t even study this much in highschool.”

You tried not to fluster at the compliment, quickly waving him off.

“I haven’t always been this dedicated to my education. That’s why I’m studying so hard now. I want to do better than I had before and make the most of my time studying abroad.” You admitted.

The conversation flowed easily like that between the three of you. Chan talked the most, eagerly taking the lead with excited, curious questions that you answered without hesitation. Minho would pipe up now and then, never intruding too deep past what was acceptable first meeting conversation topics. He seemed more the introverted type, but he watched you intensely like he was trying to get to know you without having to speak. It made you shift almost restlessly in your seat as a warmth thrummed through you.

After nearly an hour, your homework was long forgotten, and you’d all finished your drinks as you built a couple of new friendships.

“We should leave soon,.” Minho said, tapping Chan gently to take his attention back from you. Chan looked almost startled at remembering that they’d have to leave at some point. You smiled at how precious his disappointment was.

“You should come hang out with us. We can watch movies at our place or something. You can meet our friends, they’re great.” Chan said, clearly hopeful. You laughed, rubbing your arm. With a grin like his and a silent glimmer of hope behind Minho’s eyes, it was impossible to not want to go. When you didn’t answer fast enough, Minho spoke in your defense.

“I’m sure she has lots of work to do. We don’t want to be a distraction if you need to focus.” He said. You considered his words. You really did have a decent amount of work to do, but you were already not doing it, and you couldn’t imagine you’d be doing too much more serious thinking for the rest of the day. What would a day off hurt? You sighed, brushing your hair behind your ear as you weighed the options.

To be fair, following two strange men to their house wasn’t exactly the sort of thing that your parents would approve of. However, they had been nothing but sweet, and you were studying abroad for the sake of widening your world view, to experience more of those once in a lifetime moments. How could you turn one down when it was right in front of you?

“I think I can hang out for a little while. I’ve already been studying for a few hours,” You said, watching the two of them share a look, Chan’s complete with a victorious grin that made you giggle.

“Can one of you go get me a cinnamon sugar muffin?” You asked, placing your money on the table in front of you and moving to put all of your things back into your bag. Minho agreed, standing up and walking to the counter, your money left on the table. You tried to protest, but Chan shook his head.

“Let him go, he’s not great at showing people how he feels, this is sort of his thing. Take it as a compliment.” He said. You hesitantly put your money back into your waller, silently reminding yourself that you’d have to pay him back when you got the opportunity.

Once you were all sufficiently wrapped up, and all of your things were collected, you followed the boys out into the cold, huddling closer to the two of them for the sake of sharing warmth.

“So you two live together?” You asked. Minho nodded quietly, still holding the small paper bag with your muffin in it.

“Yeah, not just us though. There’s a few other people who live there, too.” He explained. “They probably won’t be home when we get there, though. Is that okay?”

You nodded. You were always down to meet new people, and if they were friends with Chan and Minho, surely they couldn’t be so bad.

The dorm was pretty much what you’d expect from a handful of young men living together. It was messy as if they all had a hundred things going on at once, but not necessarily dirty. There were two couches in the sitting area, and an arm chair as well, sort of out of place as if it had been put there as an afterthought. Off to the side there was a doorway into a small kitchen that you figured could fit probably three or four people at a time. You assumed the doors down the hallway were their respective bedrooms.

“Make yourself at home. Do you want water or something?” Chan asked, putting his keys on the little table by the door and heading for the kitchen. You sat down on one of the couches and agreed to his offer. Before you knew it, Chan was coming back with a bottle of water for each of you. He sat himself down on the opposite end of the couch.

“So you’re not from Korea, right? How long have you been here?” He asked as you cracked open your bottle and took a drink.

“I came here in the middle of the summer I think? So about four months now.” You explained. Chan nodded. If he was honest, he knew that he didn’t have the purest thoughts in bringing you here, and neither did Minho if the way he was eating you alive with his eyes was anything to go off of, but it was genuinely so easy to just listen to you talk. The last thing he wanted was to cut that short.

“And you’ll be here for the entire year?” Minho asked, picking up the conversation when Chan got too absorbed in his thoughts to ask the question. You nodded, shifting a little bit as Chan took up more space on the couch, stretching enough enough that his thigh brushed against yours ever so slightly. You shifted, subconsciously chasing the warmth that his body radiated.

“Yeah, I might stay longer than that actually. I really love it here, but I have a while to decide before I finish school.” You shrugged. “I’d at least wanna go visit my friends and family back home, bring some more of my things over during the summer after I graduate.”

Chan nodded understandingly, explaining that he and one of their other friends were from Australia, about how it was hard to go long stretches without visiting their home and their families.

“Are you seeing anyone? Here or back home?” Minho asked, looking up from his phone. You shifted again, sitting a little straighter and accidentally scooting yourself closer to where Chan was stretched out. You laughed a little bit nervously.

“Oh, um, no. I’m not dating anyone. I actually don’t really have much experience in that department.” You were a bit hesitant to let on that you hadn’t dated much in your young life. You’d never had too much interest in it, always content just to spend your time with your friends or your family, or with your nose in a book. And by the time that you did want to date, you were much more focused on growing your education. And now, with your plans for the future still up in the air, and no roots planted in Korea or in your home country, you weren’t looking to rush head first into anything new.

“Really? That’s surprising,” Chan admitted, taking a swig from his water. You watched the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed, trying not to blush at the quick, filthy thought that flashed through your mind. You weren’t usually the type, but they really were very attractive and you were only human after all.

“Why is that?” You asked.

“Well, you’re just really pretty. And smart. Guys like that,” His words were followed by a nervous laugh, sweeter than honey. A smile tugged at your lips. “I just figured that you’d have guys falling at your feet.”

He made a vague gesture with his hands, and you could swear that he was getting flustered. You tried not to read into it. Chan and Minho were both charming, and exceedingly handsome, and you really didn’t want to toot your own horn by thinking that you could pull either of them. Or even worse, assume that was the reason that they were spending their day with you.

“What about you two? Are you seeing anyone?” You turned the question back on them, and they shared a look.

“No, not really. Minho has a hookup going though.” Chan teased, tossing his now empty bottle at his friend who gave him an incredulous look. “But dating doesn’t usually fit into our schedules.”

“You’re busy a lot then?” You asked. They nodded.

“We’re, uh, we’re kpop idols. Performers, you know? So we have a lot going on most of the time.” Minho explained carefully, almost sounding as if he were nervous for what your reaction would be. You just nodded, letting out an impressed hum.

“That’s really cool. You all must be really dedicated to your music, then. Like I am with school.” You said. They both seemed to let out a breath of relief at how casually you took their confessions. That at least gave them home that you weren’t some crazed fan trying to get close to them.

Your conversations drew on, a couple more hours passing before the sound of the door unlocking made you realize how long you’d been hanging around. You looked over the back of the couch at the door as it swung open. A couple of rambunctious boys spilled into the room, the first was lean, his chestnut hair falling over his forehead as he practically bounced on the balls of his feet. The other had blonde hair, half hanging off of the first and laughing brightly, matching his energy without even trying. Behind them was another dark haired boy, and a taller one with long hair tied back from his face. The two of them were hanging back to avoid getting caught up in the wild energy just ahead of them.

“Welcome back,” Chan called, his tone teasing at the way that none of them had noticed their guest. Their conversation fell quiet when they noticed you, and the blonde smiled. You smiled back.

“Hey, I’m Felix!” He said, the depth of his voice catching you a little off guard. You gave him a small nod in greeting.

“I’m Eastleigh.”

The other energetic boy introduced himself, seeming much less bouncy than he had moments ago, now a little more reserved. Jisung. The way he sat himself next to Minho made you wonder if he was the hookup Chan had referred to, half slinging himself over the man, Minho easily accommodating the closeness. Felix took a seat on the other end of the couch from him.

The next boy was Seungmin, who Chan had offhandedly mentioned wasn’t always as quick to warm up to new people as the others, and it was clear in the way that he didn’t have much to say before excusing himself to take a shower. You made a mental note to try to befriend him later on. And finally was Hyunjin, who was friendly enough for a first encounter. The way he stared at you, however, was a bit off putting, especially when you couldn’t tell for sure if it was curiosity or distrust. More than likely a side effect of working in the spotlight. You couldn’t imagine that they had the best experiences with random girls being around them.

Those of you still in the sitting room chatted for a while, nothing in depth. Jisung excitedly told a story about the trip they’d taken to the arcade, and some scene they’d watched while waiting to play a game. Something about relationship drama that you’d honestly thought had gotten left back in highschool. Even so, it was amusing to watch the way he told the story. His eyes lit up, and his arms waved wildly as he spoke, just barely missing his friends as he did so. Felix easily muted his hand-talking by laying halfway on top of him.

This was something you’d missed recently, a friend group to just relax with and spend your free time around. Ever since entering college, your friend group had been small, even more so once you decided to study abroad, leaving your friends back home. You hoped that maybe this could be a nice replacement for the time being.

Once Jisung had finished his story, Minho put his phone aside. “Where are Changbin and Jeongin?”

You could practically see Minho starting to come out of his shell now, and as he did, the cold exterior he’d begun with started to melt away. He was smiling more, goofing off with his friends. It was cute, actually. All of it was; how close they all were, and the way they were so comfortable being themselves around each other. Not to mention the way that they welcomed you with open arms.

“Changbin hyung wanted to go to the gym. Innie went with him. Didn’t want to slack between schedules,” Seungmin said, scoffing lightly. You laughed. You fell in easily with them, the same way you had with Chan and Minho. The conversations drew on, topped off with takeout once the other two came back home and were introduced. You let yourself relax around the boys in a way you never had before.

You’d left after dark that evening, having spent most of your day there. You’d learned that they’d just finished a promotion schedule, that they’d have more time on their hands than they had for a while. You’d also learned that they were planning a sleepover to celebrate. Movies, games, snacks. One that you were invited to without hesitation.

You spent the next week visiting them during every moment that you weren’t in class, even when you were just laying on the couch or one of their beds doing your homework. Their home became yours, and they were quickly becoming your favorite part of studying abroad. When the sleepover came around, you had already left a few outfits and bathroom supplies at the dorm, so you came straight after class to find the boys spread around the room.

They argued over whose room you would sleep in for hours before you’d even had dinner, which was endearing to say the least. You had watched a couple of movies, and watched the boys play video games and bicker about them. It was after this, once everyone had started getting tired, turned to their phones as the energy died down that Chan turned to you where you were curled up against him.

“Did you decided who you want to sleep with?” Chan asked. They’d opted to set up a makeshift bed in the middle of the room, but it looked like only a few of you were going to make it into a proper sleeping arrangement. Felix had already fallen asleep on one couch wrapped tight around Seungmin who didn’t look to be too terribly far behind him, his phone starting to slip out of his hand as his eyes fell shut. Meanwhile Jisung was curled up on the other couch with Changbin half-asleep opposite him. You looked at the bed the rest of you would share.

“Um,” You looked then at the boys who were still awake. “I don’t think it really matters.”

Minho was already settling down in the furthest pile of blankets. He waved you over.

“You can sleep here. That way you won’t have to trip over anyone if you need to get up,” He said, clearing the outside space for you. You smiled appreciatively.

“Thanks, Min,” You looked at the others to see if any of them had any objections, but none of them said anything. So you took the spot with another thank you to Minho. He didn’t say much, but you’d gotten used to reading into his body language. Especially when he was tired, and he seemed quietly pleased with your willingness to sleep beside him.

There was a little more talking and laughter as you all settled in, phones getting put away and blankets pulled around everyone. You found yourself pressed closer to Minho’s side, the two of you sharing a blanket. Your legs were pressed against one another’s, and the warmth of his body beside you had your mind straying. Maybe you were a bit touch starved after being away from your friends and family for so long.

Still, despite the thrumming warmth inside of you, you were eventually able to fall asleep. Minho was careful not to move, not wanting to risk disturbing you. You slept soundly for a while, only stirring to the feeling of Minho rolling over, slinging his arm sleepily around your waist and pulling you tight to his front. Honestly, you weren’t awake enough to think anything of it when you roused up a second time.

You hummed softly, squeezing your eyes shut as if that would lull you back into sleep. You were barely conscious, only focused on the tickling sensation along the front of your thighs. You shifted, and it didn’t stop. You pouted a little, fully intending to ignore it and go back to sleep when you felt the front of your nightgown shift, riding further and further up until the touch was firm enough to recognize. A hand, touching gentle and slow over the smooth skin of your thighs, sneaking your nightgown out of the way to trace the waistband of your panties. Your breath hitched, heart picking up to pound against your ribcage.

“So pretty,” The voice was just a whisper, air brushing past your ear. “I can’t help myself. But you don’t mind, do you?”

It was Minho, his voice low in the quiet of the room where all of your friends were sleeping soundly. His fingers slipped under the flimsy fabric of your panties. You were frozen, trying to wrap your barely awakened mind around the feeling of his fingers stroking your core, teasing you into arousal.

“I saw the way you were looking at me. Looking at all of us like a pretty little slut,” His words stung in an unfamiliar way, but the tone of his voice was like pure sugar, making your chest buzz. You squirmed a little, trying to escape the touch so you could at least think straight. You should be getting up, pushing him away and hitting him for touching you like that while you were sleeping.

“Minho,” You whispered, the desperation on the tail end of his name sounding almost like lust as you pushed his arm away. He just chuckled, he was close enough that his lips pressed ust below your ear. The sound of his voice sent a chill down your spine as he dipped his middle finger between your folds, spreading the growing wetness that he found there.

“There’s my babygirl. Shh, quit pushing,” He shushed you gently, kissing your neck a few more times. His voice was stern but sweet. Your stomach jumped, twisted. You whined.

“What are you doing?” You asked, still squirming, but it was hard to fight when the foreign sensation was catching you off guard. When it felt good to have him touch you the way that he was, ways you’d only ever touched yourself before.

“Taking care of you. Feels good, doesn’t it?” Gonna ruin you just like you want me to.” He told you, dipping his head lower to mouth down your neck, swirling his tongue over your pulse point. You hadn’t realized that you were overheating until you felt his breath on your skin. You let out a sigh as he sunk his finger into you, curling it just enough to press into your most sensitive spot. You could hear the smirk in his voice when he spoke again. “Hush, pretty girl, don’t wanna wake the boys up.”

You felt your heart leap. You didn’t want to wake the other boys up. How could you ever face them knowing that you were being fingered open on their sitting room floor while they were all oblivious to it.

“Please,” You whispered, his finger pumping slowly inside of you, dragging a warmth from your core to spread through your entire body like wildfire. You wanted him to stop, even if it felt good, you were too deep in your head. But you couldn’t seem to ask him for that, not with the pressure in your lower tummy building with every pass of his thumb over your clit, every press of his finger inside of you.

“I know,” He cooed. “I know, feels so good. Can’t even ask for what you want. Wanna cum, babygirl?”

He was taunting you, his voice a little louder than it should have been. Your back arched off the makeshift bed you were laying in, your hips grinding closer to his touch against your will. You shook your head a little, but he didn’t stop. Instead he slipped a second finger into you carefully. You bit back a pathetic moan at the feeling, biting down on the inside of your cheek.

“There you go, you’re so close. Doing so good. Can you feel how tight you're squeezing my fingers?” He hissed lowly, scissoring two fingers inside of you and then picking up his pace. The speed made you bite your lip, burying your face into the pillow you’d borrowed. It wasn’t too fast, not enough to overwhelm you completely, but it was enough to make your head spin. Your breath was coming out faster now, sharp gasps and hushed exhales as he fingered you straight into an orgasm.

His hand came to cover your mouth, but not before another too-loud moan slipped past your lips. You clutched at his wrist, silently begging him to keep his hand in place and using him to ground yourself in reality. He pulled his fingers out slowly, continuing to rub your clit until your eyes started twitching shut from the overstimulation. He finally pulled his hands away then, wiping your juices off on the inside of your thigh.

“See, that wasn’t worth all that fighting, was it?” He leaned over, pressing a kiss to your parted lips. His teeth caught your bottom lip, tugging at it gently as he pulled away. You followed him, curling against his chest as you tried to catch your breath.

Part of you was mortified. You’d never been touched by anyone but yourself before him, and the first time someone had made you cum it happened in a room full of your friends while they slept. Still, something about that sent another wave of sparks through your stomach. You opted instead to just bask in the afterglow of one of the best orgasms of your life.

It was quiet for a little bit as Minho stroked your hair, letting you come down from your high. Then a voice spoke from the silence on the other side of the room.

“You’re supposed to share your tongue, hyung,” Han spoke up, propping himself up against the arm of the couch. You looked up, mostly because you couldn’t fully believe what you’d just heard him say. But there he was, Han Jisung in all of his bed-headed glory, chewing on his bottom lip and looking at you like you were his favorite snack.

“Sure, you know I always share. Thought you were sleeping,” Minho said, still quiet and holding you close to him. “Let’s take this somewhere else though. Don’t think she’s ready for everyone all at once.”

He’d barely finished his suggestion when Jisung was springing to his feet, careful not to disturb the others as he moved. He reached his hand out to you, and you took it with a little hesitation, still thinking about what Minho had said about you not being ready. Still, a building part of your mind was desperate for this, your pussy aching with need despite having just gotten off. Maybe you were still just tired, but you desperately wanted to see what the boys had in store of you.

Jisung led you down the hall to his room, pushing open the door. Minho wasn’t far behind, making a pit stop in the kitchen to grab a bottle of water before padding into the dark bedroom. Jisung turned on the lamp, telling you to get comfortable on the bed.

You tried to obey, but it was hard to fully get comfortable when you were so entirely on edge.

“She looks nervous,” The younger of the two noted. Minho nodded.

“She’s never done this before. Wanna be her first, Sungie?” He asked, stripping off the plain black shirt he’d been sleeping in, leaving him in just a pair of pajama pants slung low over his hips. You shivered at the way they were talking about you like you weren’t even there.

Jisung looked like he was seconds away from pouncing on you, his eyes running up and down your figure, though it was mostly hidden under the nightgown you’d picked out. He nodded.

“Yeah. You want that too, don’t you pretty thing? Want me to fill you up?” Jisung stripped off the hoodie he had on, and pushed the sweatpants that covered his lower half off so he was left in only his boxers, which weren’t doing a great job of hiding his straining erection.

You didn’t answer right away, your eyes still fixated on his arousal. He laughed affectionately. His voice was rougher now, rich with lust, but the sound of his laugh was just as sweet and charming as it had been the moment you’d met him.

“I think he asked you a question. Better answer him,” Minho told you. You looked over at him, eyes wide and giving you a look much like a startled bunny. Minho was leaned up against the wall, palming himself through his pants. You swallowed, looking back to where Jisung was watching, waiting expectantly for your answer.

“Yes, please,” You said quietly. Jisung smile, leaning a little closer and cupping his hand behind his ear.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught that. Can you repeat it for me, baby?” Your face burned red hot.

“Please, Ji, I want you.” You repeated, this time a little louder. The words weighed heavy on your tongue, feeling clumsy and entirely unsexy as you mumbled the words. You’d never said anything like that out loud before. The boys, however, were clearly satisfied with your answer if they way Jisung closed in on you was anything to go by.

He tucked two fingers under your chin, tilting it up to face him. He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, smirking at the way that you eagerly followed him when he pulled away.

“Take that off,” He ordered firmly. The contrast between his gentle touch and the firmness of his voice made your heart pick up again, and you only hesitated a little. All thoughts of not giving in were gone when you saw the muscle in his jaw tick impatient. You shifted up enough to pull your nightgown over your head, setting it aside on his bed.

Having two men look at you like you were a feast all laid out for them did something to you. Your head tipped up with pride, and a wave of lust washed over you, dragging you deeper into the feeling like ocean tides. Jisung moved closer again, reaching out to run his hands along your bare sides. You were left in just your panties now, and your decision to sleep without a bra was brought to the forefront of your mind as he cupped your bare tits in his palms. Your eyelids fluttered shut.

His every touch was gentle as if you were made of porcelain, a priceless piece of art that he couldn’t bear to damage. His thumbs brushed the hardened peaks of your nipples, back and forth slowly until you were struggling to stay still under his ministrations.

“We don’t have all night,” Minho pointed out, his hand entirely down his pants now, though the way his hand barely moved gave you the impression that he was just trying to take the edge off as he waited for Jisung to get on with things. The younger of the two huffed, a half pout plumping his bottom lip as he looked at his elder.

“I don’t wanna break her, hyung.” He whined. Your stomach twisted at the idea of what he could possibly do to break you, another rush of wetness pooling between your thighs. He patted your hip. “Scoot up a little, lay back.”

You didn’t hesitate, doing exactly as he said and wiggling up on the mattress so you could lay down with plenty of space for both of them to follow you. And follow they did. Jisung kneeled on the bed, pushing your legs open so he could slot himself between them. He dipped his head, kissing along your jaw, down your neck, your collarbone. You closed your eyes, your fingers finding purchase in his hair as Minho sat beside you, his touch skidding after every press of Jisung’s lips to your skin.

It was hard to focus on anything other than the heavy warmth of Jisung’s mouth as his tongue ran circles over your skin, and the way Minho’s fingers touched your most sensitive patches of skin like you were a priceless gift to be treasured. Jisungs lips didn’t take very long to find their way to your tits, dutifully sucking your nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue around until it was fully hardened while Minho pinched and tugged at the other. Once Jisung was fully satisfied, they switched sides, repeating the process over again.

You squirmed beneath them, your hips lifting up in an attempt to find some sort of friction against your aching core. Jisung chuckled, pulling away from your breasts with a satisfied hum.

“What was it we said about asking, babygirl?” He asked sweetly, pushing your hips back down onto the bed before returning to the achingly slow process of kissing down your stomach, his teeth digging against the soft skin there to hear the little gasps and whimpers it earned from you.

“I’m sorry, Ji,” You breathed out, “I’ll be good. Promise I’ll ask better.”

Minho groaned, his head dropping back at how easily you gave in to their rules. With his free hand he’d managed to push his pants off, leaving his hard cock exposed. You watched him stroke it slowly, losing all of the thoughts you’d been having as your tongue swiped over your lower lip. You’d never seen a cock in person before, and you’d always figured it would be nothing special, but the way his length curved just a little, the tiny bead of precum sitting pretty at the tip, it was mouthwatering.

“Go on then, ask for what you want. Show us how pretty you can beg.” Minho urged. You nodded almost frantically, and Jisung stifled a giggle against the spot near your hip that he’d begun sucking at, determined to mark up that silken skin of yours.

“Please, Ji, want you to touch me. Want you to make me feel good,” You begged, wiggling again. He laid a slap to the outside of your thigh. It wasn’t enough to hurt, but you did make a startled squeak at the sound.

“More,”

“I need it, I need you.” You sounded pathetic as you continued asking him for something – anything – more than what you were getting. “Please take me. I wanna be so good for you. Wanna let you take care of me, make you feel good. Please.”

You were too far gone to properly think about how filthy your words were, and if you had you’d be blushing up a storm, but it got you exactly what you wanted.

Jisung sat back on his heels, pulling your panties off of you and marveling at the way that the crotch of them glistened with your juices. He tossed them to Minho, who caught them and dropped them into the drawer by his bed. Then the younger boy was slipping lower on the bed, his shoulders nudging your thighs open even more. He dipped his head, running his tongue between your soaked folds without so much as a warning. And one taste didn’t do anything except make him desperate for ore.

He wrapped his arms around your thighs, pinning your hips in place as he eagerly started in on your pussy, working his tongue around your clit and sucking. He didn’t give you too much, dancing the line between not enough, and absolutely perfect. You were grasping for anything you could find to keep your composure, your hands moving from your thighs, to the sheets, to his hair, and back again.

“Jisung,” You whined, squeezing your eyes shut. You weren’t completely innocent, but this wasn’t like any pleasure you could give yourself. “Need more, please, please, please Ji.”

He chuckled against your warmth, dipping his tongue through your folds again before pulling away to spread your pussy open in front of his face.

“Pretty little thing needs more? Wanna cum on my tongue?” He cooed. Your hole clenched at the words, more of your juices flooding onto his fingers. You nodded, your words melting into senseless moans on your lips. It would have been humiliating if you didn’t feel like you were floating.

“Gotta be quiet if you want us to keep going, sweetheart.” Minho said. He was standing up now, still stroking himself. You looked at him desperately, pressing your lips shut as he stepped closer. He reached down, caressing the side of your face before brushing his thumb across the seam of your lips, gently prodding until you opened up for his thumb.

You sucked gently, swirling your tongue around the tip of it until he moaned and retracted his hand. The way you looked at him, pupils blown wide, lips still parted and glistening with your spit, it was damn near pornagraphic, and he cursed himself for not thinking to grab his phone and record this. He pressed closer, tapping the head of his dick against your mouth and watching the way you instinctively opened up for him.

“Can’t be all noisy with your pretty little mouth stuffed full, hm?” He said, slowly pressing the tip into your mouth, his eyes shutting at the way you suckled on it until he pushed further into it. He was heavy against your tongue, his taste coating your mouth in a silent claim to you.

Just having them both touching you at the same time felt like heaven, even more so when the finger Jisung had been circling your clit with slid into you, curling up against a spot you didn’t even know existed inside of you. He seemed pleased when you rocked into his touch, repeating the motion and lapping at the wetness that he coaxed out of you. You moaned, the sound muffled around the cock thrusting lazily into your mouth.

The two of them were watching you intently, Minho stroking his fingers through your hair every time the tip of his cock would tease a little too deep into your throat and make the muscles flutter around him there. Jisung palmed at your thighs and hips gently while he fingered you open and ate you like a man starved. Your orgasm wasn’t going to sneak up on them, and the moment your muscles began to tense, the instant your breath picked up and your hips chased Jisung’s touch, he was pulling away completely.

The blissful heat in your body turned searing, and you whimpered. You had been so close, the pressure building had been heavenly, but now it damn near made you sob. You wiggled more, desperate to have his hands on you again.

“Come on,” Minho coaxed, pulling out of your mouth, and Jisung dipped his head again, his lips moving over the sensitive skin of your thighs. You knew quickly what you had to do.

“Please. Please please please, I need to cum. Need to feel you, I can’t take it,” You said breathlessly, writhing even more.

“Good girl,” Jisung praised, sitting up so he could line his aching cock up with your hole. Minho stroked himself, his other hand still carding through your hair as Jisung started to push into you. Jisung’s cock was just as pretty as Minho’s, though not as long and almost intimidatingly thick.

“Ready babygirl?” Gonna take his cock like a perfect little toy?” Minho asked, tugging on your hair so you’d look at him. You nodded, your hand scrambling to grip at his muscled thighs as Jisung started pushing into you. The feeling stung, and it was only partially offset by his thumb swirling figure eights against your clit. All the while they murmured praise your way, shushing your whines until you were filled with him.

Your chest heaved with desperate breaths as you tried to adjust to the feeling of being split open on his dick. You looked at Minho, watching the way he stroked himself as Jisung rolled his hips into yours, once, twice, three times.

“Fuck, look at you baby. Look how your pussy just sucks him in. So hungry for him,” Minho mused.

“So much,” You murmured breathlessly, your hips wiggling underneath his thrusts. He chuckled proudly, slowly beginning to pick up his pace. You nearly sobbed at the first feeling of not being full, but you didn’t even have enough time to voice your neediness before he was filling you up again.

You were having a hard time keeping your voice down again, so Jisung slid two fingers into your mouth. You’d never felt this good before, your mind hazy and your chest warm.

“Fuck, gonna cum,” Minho warned. You blinked up at him, having half forgotten that he was jerking himself off at all. Jisung carefully opened your mouth, pulling your jaw down with his fingers, and it was only a matter of moments before Minho was shooting his cum onto your face, most of it landing on your lips or painting your cheeks. Once he was done, Jisung used his fingers to scoop the liquid into your mouth. You sucked his fingers clean, moaning around them eagerly.

“So fucking load, babygirl. I knew you wanted everyone to know you’re our pretty little whore,” Jisung mused, pulling his fingers out of your mouth so he could grip your hips properly, tugging you to meet his thrusts. “Show me how good my cock feels, wanna see you cum on it.”

His words had your head spinning, and you didn’t stand a single chance. The thought of having the boys listening to you get fucked for the first time was too much. You came around his dick, and he didn’t slow down to give you a breath. If anything, his pace picked up as he chased his own end.

His breath hissed through his teeth as he fucked into you, driving your orgasm on for long enough that the stimulation began to sting through your limbs. You were trembling, and Jisung murmured sweet apologies for fucking you too good, his words becoming babbling as he neared his orgasm.

“I know baby, just a little more. Wanna fill you up. You can take it right? Gonna be my good little toy?” He groaned, his hips growing harsh and sloppy. You nodded, nails digging into Minho’s thighs. But it was worth it to watch the way Jisung fell apart. He buried himself deep into you, emptying his load and filling you up just like he’d promised. He moaned your name like a prayer, and both of your chests heaved when he pulled out.

All three of you were sticky with sweat, and both boys stroked your hair, your sides, your hips, dragging you back down from cloud nine. When your ears stopped ringing, you could hear their sugar sweet praise. Your entire body was heavy, and you closed your eyes.

Minho moved away from the bed, kissing your head, the Jisung’s. He stole a fresh pair of boxers from the closet.

“I’ll be right back. Stay with her. She can sleep in here, but we gotta get her cleaned up first. You made a mess.” He said, half scolding Jisung. He nodded, curling up beside you to wait, still kissing your shoulder and arm.

“Gotta stay awake love, just a little longer.” He murmured. You nodded, barely coherent but still happy to do whatever they said. And much to your relief, Minho returned quickly. He made quick work of cleaning you up, wiping your face clean, then your legs, and finally the mess between them.

“Let’s get you some rest. We can finish cleaning up in the morning, okay?” He sat beside you, tossing the washcloth into the laundry and stroking your now tangled curls. You nodded, nuzzling into his touch. On the other side of you, Jisung was fast asleep, and Minho grinned. His little risk had taken a much better turn than he could have hoped, and whatever persuasion was left could wait until morning. For now, he was satisfied with making sure you got a well deserved rest after putting on a show for him.

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[witch-hazels-musings]

The Versatility of a Workspace :: Alhaitham 

Warning -> 18+ NS-FW! (consensual sex (on a desk - penetration, pulling out), unspecified foreplay (reader receiving), shy/embarrassed reader, brief mention of previous sexual activity (reader), voyeurism (alhaitham watches reader)(friends -> lovers (not established relationship) | it’s been a while, let me know if i missed anything!

Alhaitham X GN Reader | Anthology

There is something incredible about seeing a man focus on his work, and today, when you found yourself staring just a little too long their attention easily shifted.

--

It felt odd to be in a room alone with him. Not just because he was rarely here in the first place, you knew quite well that Alhaitham didn't work in his office unless he absolutely had to and based on the slight scowl on his face, you assumed he'd gotten into another disagreement with his roommate. Still, the fact that you came here to find the room occupied, and that he'd even suggested you stay and accomplish whatever you'd come in to do was astounding.

Perhaps if you hadn't been too distracted by him you'd have finished earlier and could retreat to alleviate the growing discomfort rising in your stomach.

The way his fingers trailed over the pages of the book, how they curled and tugged at the tender parchment so his focused eyes could drink in every word

The way the light flickered off his face. Gentle, and unimposing as if it too were worried about disturbing him. It enhanced his already sharp features and made you jealous that someone could be so pretty

You adjusted in the chair, shook your head, and wrote -rewrote- the sentence you'd been working on for ten minutes now. With a sigh, you bit your lip hard to focus.

"You're being too loud," his voice called out, making you jump. It was only then you realized you were shaking your leg so much it was making the fabric of your clothes rustle. Considering how quiet the room was, it was easy to hear.

"S-sorry," you replied, stilling your leg.

His fingers ran through the silver locks on his head. They fluttered, falling haphazardly across his face and drawing way too much attention to his lips

His arms stretched, muscles moved under his sheer clothes and you felt your cheeks burn at the sight

You did your best to ignore the tingling annoyance between your legs, the clenching heat in your chest, and any thoughts that consisted of him that, at first, you thought you'd imagined his voice until it came again.

"If you're struggling, just bring your work to me already." An annoyed huff from his side of the room made you grimace. Of course, Alhaitham would never give the time nor desire to the feelings running around your head. You scolded yourself for letting your thoughts run away with you. "Do you not want help?" Flashing your eyes at him, you saw the way he gazed at you from below his bangs. Even if you wanted to, you wondered if you'd be able to stand up at all.

"Okay," you whispered and brought your paperwork to him. Being so close made you stumble but you played it off as best you could. "I'm sure this seems silly to you-"

Did I say that?" He inquired as he took the papers and sprawled them on his desk, his long fingers holding them down the way you wished he'd hold you. A small shake of your head failed at dislodging that thought from your brain. "You're distracted."

"W-What makes you say that?"

"You'd never be this sloppy otherwise." His words were direct as he pointed to an error on the page. Naturally, you leaned in to see what was amiss but when you felt his breath on your neck, you froze.

Swallowing, your breath hitched. You needed space but there wasn't any, especially with his body heat hitting you like a brick wall and his leg absentmindedly brushing against your own. “Ahm --” 

"Mmhm, as I thought," he moved the items off his desk, adjusting slightly so you had more room, "sit," he instructed by gesturing to the bare, flat wood of his workspace. He didn't need to say more; you knew what he meant - you weren't that dense.

"B-but-"

"Just do it. It'll be bothersome if you leave right now." Your body itched terribly for attention. Your heart pounded in your chest, your cheeks burned and spread down your neck until it felt like there was a fire in you. It was so hot it almost hurt. In the months you’d known him, he’d never initiated any kind of interest in you. At some point you realized he never would - a man as driven, isolated, and tunnel-versioned toward his own goals would never see past the book in his face long enough to notice how desperately you wanted him. Truthfully, you were happy he allowed you to be this close; so, in all the times you’d been affected by his existence, you vowed to never allowed yourself to be so vulnerable in front of him.

“I - um -” You tried to take a step back but his quick glance held you in place, and when his fingers gripped your chin you knew it was all over. 

“Your pupils are dilated, and your breathing is uneven and too quick. Your body temperature has risen significantly since you’ve been here. It’s obvious you aroused,” easily he pulled you toward him, positioned you between the desk and his toned torso. A peek at his chest made you falter and stumble into the heavy workspace now pressing against your back. “It would be faster to tend to this now,” when his hands slid down to your pants, you nearly collapsed on weak knees. 

“Wait - wait -” Pushing your hands against him, you attempted to make space in the already limited one you had. He stopped but didn’t remove his hands.

The heat of his touch, the feeling of his fingers just under the hem of your pants, his proximity, it all made your head swim and your heart pound.

“I see. If you’re capable of handling this on your own, I will stand by the door -” 

The need building in your stomach willed you to shake your head. “No,” clenching your fists, you squeezed the words from your tight throat. “It’s --” 

He sighed, removed one of his hands from your hips, and lifted your chin so you could look at him, “I can’t understand you when you mumble.” When he saw your face you wondered if he’d felt anything at all. Was the step he took toward you a show of interest or just so he could clearly hear what you were to embarrassed to say out loud?

He may have been holding your head up, but he couldn’t force you to look at him, “It’s n-not enough on my own,” you started, knowing full well he wouldn’t grasp what you were saying with such a vague explanation. He needed concrete answers, but were you brave enough to give them? “I-I’ve tried before but it’s not enough. I need ... help.” It was all you could squeeze out. You were certain that no matter the amount of light in the room or the shade of your skin, he could see the vibrant red shift of embarrassment all over your face. 

-- 

Alhaitham did what was necessary to get you seated on the desk. He made quick work of your pants, ensuring they draped over the back of the chair he no longer needed to use. He lifted you with ease and helped position your body until you were comfortable. Though you assumed he’d get annoyed or exasperated by the number of times you shifted, adjusted, and repositioned, he didn’t - he just waited until you were ready.  

“Settled?” he asked when you stilled. A nod brought him closer; you shivered when his fingers grazed your bare skin and let out a shaky breath at the sensation. You’d dreamt of this so many times - or daydreamed, or tried to will your dreams to let you have this once, just once - but now that it was happening, it almost didn’t seem real. “I’ve read my fair share of books on the subject,” Alhaitham hummed as he neared the area of your body screaming for physical contact. His tone, usually direct and blunt seemed softer now, and the contrast brought out a whimper in your throat. “I will start slow.” You nodded but when he finally touched you, you melted. 

His movements started slow just as he said. The steady strokes, the way he pressed his thumb against your sensitive skin as he continued his menstruations. It made you wish you had something to hold on to. Instinctually you reached for the loose bits of cloth that hung over the left side of his body.

As your breathing increased, and the moans he pulled from you came more consistently, he began to work harder. You opened your eyes for a second only to see how intently he was watching you - if you weren’t so shy you might have kept them open. Instead, you covered your face with your free hand and hoped you didn’t fall backward. 

Something warm slid across your lower back and made you jump slightly. Alhaitham’s voice spread across the back of your palm, his movements, which had been steadily increasing, slowed as if to give you a moment’s rest. “I cannot learn what you like if you hide your face from me,” he explained in his still, unaffected voice. You weren’t sure what was worse, the fact that he didn’t seem altered by what he was doing, or that he was asking you to be even more exposed than you already were. When you tentatively withdrew your hand, he slid his from your back until he reached your elbow. With ease, he maneuvered your arm to rest on his shoulder. “Thank you,” he hummed and picked up the pace again. 

At this point, all you could do was hold on. Alhaitham was making you putty in his hands; from the way he held onto you so you wouldn’t fall, his fingers pressing against your back, arm muscles flexing to keep you upright, to the pace he had found that was sending you over the edge - he was in complete control. 

You cried out. Head falling backward, rolling to the side to rest on the shoulder that had worked its way free of your shirt. Your chest heaved, nails dug into his clothes, hand slammed onto the desk and hips jutted closer to him as he brought you to your climax. 

Out of all the times you’d imagined this, imagined him, you were right to say that doing it on your own was never enough.  

Panting, overheating, you listened as your voice eased back to normal. “... sorry,” you finally said after several deep breaths and shakes of your head. 

“For?” 

“... being so loud ... I didn’t ... I’ve never-” Shaking your head again, you relaxed your grip on his shoulder. You expected him to correct you, or remind you to try to remember next time - next time? - but instead, he laughed, a sound that made you melt even more on his desk. 

“It’s a natural reaction,” he reassured you, the sound of a metal buckle ringing in your ears. When you looked down, your heart fluttered at the sight of his fingers working himself free from his pants, the heat he just alleviated from you hit you again like a hot desert wave. Was he really? Was the one thing you’d desperately wanted to do with him finally -- “You should be ready now,” he said, perhaps more to himself than to you as he used your fluids to lubricate himself. 

“wh- you’re going to --” Alhaitham pulled you further off the desk and positioned himself to enter you. The tip alone was enough to elicit a moan from your tired throat. You were satisfied enough with what he had already done, to think he would go this far! “Alhai-?” 

“I need more time,” he stated matter-of-factly, his voice out-of-character shaky, breath hitching as he began to push into you. He wasn’t huge, but he still stretched you, pushed against your walls as he slid all the way in. You shifted on your thighs and leaned back to give him more access as you exhaled the most sinful moan you’d ever made. It must have been something incredible because the noise that rumbled through his chest set you on fire. “Mmm ...” he hummed, breathing against you as his hands gripped your hips tightly. 

The two of you stayed there, still and unmoving for a moment, and took in the feeling of the other. You’d been with others before, but none of them felt like this - none of them made your skin ripple as if a thousand flower petals fell over you in a single moment. You sank into him, around him, and though you were certain he wouldn’t like it, you couldn’t stop yourself from kissing the edge of his lips. 

Sharp blue eyes shot your way. They flashed in the yellow light, flickered, searching your face. You were about to apologize when he captured your lips against his in a messy, heated kiss. It was only broken when he started to move in you and you gasped at the resulting sensation. 

Alhaitham pressed his forehead against you so hard it made your back muscles shake as you tried to stay upright. Every thrust of his hips into you caused you to cry out. Eventually, you wrapped your arms around his neck just so you wouldn’t fall; the sound of his hands slamming against the wood, the feeling of his shaking fingers digging into your flush, glistening thighs made you wish he would take you in every possible way imaginable. 

For months you’d only known the calm, collected, and never impressed Alhaitham wandering through the academy floors - you’d never imagined he could look so disheveled, so desperate, so aroused. 

You fell back onto your elbows and the resulting position made him moan, heated breath spreading over your increasingly exposed chest. He stood up, grabbed the underside of your legs and held onto them as he pounded into you. The sight of sweat rolling down his shoulders, across his biceps, the way it clung to the sheer black top he wore. It made you hysterical to see how his abs moved with every thrust. Soon, you couldn’t look anymore as you neared your second organism. 

Desperate breaths made your chest rise and fall, your nails peeled back the protective surface of the wooden desk and your head fell toward the unfortunate stacks of books that hadn’t been moved. One final look at Alhaitham’s face was enough to send you over the edge - no one should be that attractive. 

“I-I’m --” you tried to communicate but lost the ability. It seemed he was struggling too. His brow creased, eyes narrowed as he dipped his head and tried to breathe through your body’s reaction to him. It didn’t take him long into your own orgasm to come undone. Within seconds, you felt hot streams of cum against your inner thigh as he pulled out just in time. 

The two of you were shaking. His arms trembled; whether from overstimulation or your own shaking legs he still held onto, you weren’t sure. Unsteady, but wanting to help him, you pushed yourself up on weak arms so you could slide back onto the slick surface. When you were more stable, he let your legs go, his hands finding refuge on the hot desktop. 

So many questions ran through your brain but he interrupted them by speaking first. 

“Though I don’t engage in ... tedious emotions,” he panted, hands plastered on either side of you, hair grazing your exposed shoulder, “I also don’t enjoy seeing others in misery ...” 

Your throat felt dry, and a bead of sweat rolled down your neck and became lost in the clump of clothes bunched up around your lower back. Somehow, his words made you chuckle in excited hope, “So, you did this for my benefit?” 

“Yes.” 

“Does that mean ...,” - It can’t right? - “that you ... like me?” Alhaitham didn’t look up but you could tell by the way his fingers curled into fists and the way he flexed against your inner thigh that you’d drawn him out. 

“... I never said that ... don’t let it go to your head.” 

“Too late,” you replied as you lifted his chin with your trembling hand to take in avoiding eyes under furrowed brow, and his rosy cheeks with a hint of pink-tinted ears.  

#hazels 18+ #18+ #ns-fw #genshin smut #genshin 18+ #alhaitham smut

[shanbinswf]

KILL THE DIRECTOR — Chapter One, The New Professor

landing page. series masterlist. main masterlist.

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pairing: uni student heeseung x uni lecturer afab reader

genre: angst, smut (mdni)

plot: you were a freshly graduated teacher, and other teachers used this against you. you were determined to prove yourself. but then after a drunken night out, you find yourself in the grasp of one of the most popular students on campus. sure, you knew what you was doing was morally wrong, but something inside you almost felt like it was worth the risk… that he was worth the risk.

wc: 5331

warnings under the cut.

warnings: university student!heeseung, newly graduated teacher!reader, heeseung shamelessly flirting, slight age gap (reader is older by two-three years), no actual sex happens (kind of left it open for a smutty part two if people want), mentions of costumes, reader is kind of harassed but also not really detail

BEING A UNIVERSITY LECTURER SO YOUNG WAS NEVER GOING TO BE EASY—BUT YOU KNEW THAT.

You were always told from the day you graduated that when the next term began, you were going to be that one tutor that all the all of the students would oggle, regardless of if they were in your class or not. Some teachers in your major even made bets if you would reach the online forums kind of famous, other majoring students daring to come to the media building for sneaks of you.

You were close to the age of the students, only about 3 years older than the ones you were to teach at an absolute maximum, disregarding the older students who came for a change of knowledge so they could find a better career.

You knew it was going to be rough to gain the respect of the students close to your age, due to that very fact. But all you had ever wanted to do in life was teach. Your old tutor was retiring, leaving the slot open for you to steal with so much as just one word.

The desk was emptied before you even accepted your degree, and you got the job offer the very next day. You felt as if everything just fell into perfect place. You were excited to begin the new chapter of your life. And nothing was going to tear it down. That, you was determined.

You arrived at your class, bright and early. You wanted to ensure you had more than enough time to learn how to use the projector so you could showcase any and all needed documents on the board, and you needed to ensure all handouts that needed printing were neat and stapled to try and minimise the risk of anyone losing a piece of the information required. Of course, you would always print more if someone asked you—but you wanted your first class to be perfect.

You placed the paper stacks for each student at each seat, then you rushed back to your own seat and sat down, double, triple checking, that each PowerPoint and document made sense and was easy to read. You couldn’t have any mistakes, not on your first day.

You were shocked when students began to enter the room much too early for class, earlier than you were prepared for. They didn’t even seem to register your existence at first, you being almost hidden behind the desk which had a weird ‘back’ to it, a piece of wood sticking up to almost separate you from the students. You also had your laptop placed in a way so when students entered, they almost couldn’t see you from the side when you were sat down also.

Students continued to flood in, mostly in pairs or small groups. The final students trickles their way in, and almost every seat was filled with a good ten minutes left before class was to begin.

You sneaked looks from behind your laptop screen, watching as your students pulled their own laptops out, while some assessed the papers before them, and some of those even began highlighting the parts of the information that they found most crucial to remember. You couldn’t help the smile forming on your lips.

This was what you had always wanted, what you looked forward to. Now was your time to shine.

You finally stood from your seat, the students at the desks closest to the front of the room noticing you first. Their eyes were laser focused on your every move. You made your way in careful steps across the carpet to the glass door of the room before you pushed it shut, then you turned to face the students with a bright, forced smile.

You were terrified as to how they would react if they could sniff out your nerves. Your palms were sweaty and your skin was tingling from the adrenaline, but you had to try your best to remain composed and collected.

You clapped your hands together in a way to get the attention of the students at the back of the class, your eyes landing on one with dark hair and glasses framing his eyes. You remembered your old tutor, who taught the first term of class, had talked his big praises. Lee Heeseung, was it? Your tutor showed you the profiles of each of the students to try and make sure you were up too date with their talents, specialties, etc.

Your eyes quickly gazed over the rest of the students before you made the way to the middle of the floor. You feared your voice would shake, but you thought if you faked confidence, then soon enough it would come naturally.

“Good morning, everyone. As some of you know, Professor Youngbae has retired at the ripe old age of 54 to continue his career in the directing field, and you have been assigned to me. I’m still new to the whole teaching thing so I may not be as engaging or as fun as Professor Youngbae, but feel free to stay behind class and ask me any and all questions you have about the sessions.” Your voice almost wavered at the end, but you kept your head up high and your back straight.

You were like them not too long ago, now you had to lead them. You couldn’t be weak. You just had to keep reminding yourself that.

You walk to the desk but this time you stand at it, bending down awkwardly to be able to press some buttons in your laptop to turn the screen on.

“That’s a moving desk, you know,” A male voice filled the quiet room, your eyes looking around to try to decipher who it was who spoke.

As your eyes scanned the room, the black haired boy with glasses stood from his seat and side stepped so he was in the empty space between tables. “There’s a button on it so you can stand at the desk, or you can lower it.”

You nod your head slowly, squatting to try and find the button with no luck. You didn’t even hear the footsteps of the male. Suddenly you felt someone brushing up against your side, their hand reaching across past your face to a few inches away from the corner. The man pressed a button and like magic, the desk moved upwards to allow you to present and stand at the same time, that weird wooden wall remaining in place so it didn’t cover you as your presented.

You stood carefully, the student beside you also taking this as his own hint to stand. You turn to face him, taking a step back to add some much needed space between your close proximity. “Thank you…” You began, but fell silent. You weren’t sure of his name, so you didn’t want to call a name just in case you got it wrong.

“Lee Heeseung,” The student confirmed your suspicions before he bowed his head, his glasses falling down his nose. He lifted his head, then walked back to his desk.

“Thank you, Heeseung,” You thanked him again before you decided it time to get on with your lesson.

You came to the end of the lecture with much success, the students seemingly loving the lesson and the way you taught. You had never seen students so engaged in another tutor’s lessons before, and your heart swelled with pride at the thought.

You pressed the button to lower your desk and sat on your chair, your knees aching from standing and walking around for so long, but you still felt a thrill inside of your chest with the need and excitement to do it all again the following days to come.

You watched and waved at students as they left the room, some offering you warm smiles and others even offering words of encouragement to try to ensure you knew just how fun you made their class, and now the rest of their studies going forward.

Next to none of the students decided to stay behind, which made you feel a sense of accomplishment. You had made a lesson not only fun, but easy for them to understand and not need to throw you a million questions; which was an unspoken fear you had the last few weeks as you address, and readdressed your lesson plan.

You closed your laptop and placed it under your arm. You only had the one class for now, but as the next term kicked in after your teaching test term, you had no doubts you’d have many classes to teach and plan for.

You turned to face the door of the classroom, only to find it closed with Lee Heeseung leaning on the edge of the desk closest to the door. His head was tilted back, his eyes scanning the ceiling as if he was counting the tiles to better occupy his time.

You raised an eyebrow, but walked towards him regardless and offered him a smile as you came to stand before him. Heeseung noticed you from the corner of his eye and finally looked down from the ceiling. His eyes looked you up and down, and you couldn’t help but feel as if there was something hidden behind his gaze. Self-conscious, you moved your laptop to cover your body.

“Heeseung, how can I help you?” You asked in a cheery voice, the smile never once leaving your face.

Heeseung remained leaning against the edge of the desk, but looked at you over the top of the glasses the sat halfway down his nose. “You’re probably the youngest tutor in this whole campus,” He noted, to which you thought for a moment, then nodded your head in agreement.

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” You forced out a laugh. “I just graduated and Professor Youngbae said I would be a great replacement, so I decided why not try out for the job.”

Heeseung nodded his head, then lifted his head to a normal height for himself. He hummed. “You’re also the hottest tutor,” His voice was casual and calm, as casual as asking for a pen. But your skin instantly tinted pink and burned.

You choked on oxygen, using your free hand to slap at your chest to try and dislodge the air-blockage in your throat. “Why, thank you. But I think that’s a bit inappropriate to be telling me, don’t you?”

Heeseung pushed himself off the desk so his body was close to yours, looking down at you. He was so close you could smell his cologne. It was intimidating, but you decided not to take a step back. Maybe he was testing you.

“I only called you hot. We’re both of legal age, so I don’t see why there should be an issue if I find you hot,” Heeseung almost sounded as if he was defending himself, but he kept his voice calm and collected at the same time.

“I’m your tutor, there are just some boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed,” Your voice was low, quiet. You took the first move to leave, yanking the door open a little too aggressively before you walked out of the classroom and away from Heeseung.

Heeseung followed after you, but remained in the hallway by the classroom. He watched you walk away, smirking to himself. He was going to find a way to make you his for the night. He was Lee Heeseung, after all. He slept with every hot student and faculty member in that campus that he could get his hands on. You were trying to make it a bit of a challenge for him, but he knew you would fall into his traps at some point.

You arrived at your class bright and early, hair neatly brushed out of your face and a new casual suit was your fit for the day in an attempt to appear professional, but also friendly at the same time.

Heeseung was the first student at class, eyes wide and pen in hand ready to learn everything he possibly could from you. He sometimes stayed after class to drop in some questions after the sessions ended, and you didn’t fail to notice the longing looks he gave you from across the classroom.

Heeseung thew his hand up at every question you asked the students, and his hand rushed to note down every word you said. He was trying a little too hard, and you soon became suspicious of him. Sometimes, he even dared to brush his fingertips over your skin when you were in close proximity to him. His desk mate seemed to smirk every time you were anywhere within a metre space of Heeseung’s presence.

But the last few days, you had noticed that Lee Heeseung had been missing from your classes. You almost felt your excitement get snuffed out at the lack of his presence, but you chose to ignore the feeling. You were a professional, and having some form of feelings for a student was wrong. You couldn’t favour or enjoy another student’s presence more than others. That would be unethical, right?

It was early in the morning, you were tasked with an early session as your classroom was scheduled to have maintenance during your usual class time. Surprisingly, your students all agreed to come in earlier. You didn’t know, but they were all beyond happy to attend your classes regardless of the time.

You stood at the counter, watching the coffee pour out of the nozzle into your flask. You sighed softly, using your right hand to push your hair out of your face. You were exhausted, to say the least. Your friends enjoyed a good night out the prior night, and you were begged by them to go along. Now you were regretting staying out until 2 am, surviving on three hours sleep and endless amounts of coffee from the staff lounge.

You picked up your flask when you heard three beeps to signal the coffee was ready, then discarded the pod so the machine was ready for the next person to use.

You walked to your class and took in a breath through your nose before you enter your classroom. You expected it to be empty, another half hour until your class was to begin. But you stopped at the door, your eyes going wide as you noticed Lee Heeseung sat at your desk, his legs spread wide and his eyes staring right at you.

You swallowed a lump in your throat, the image of him before you making you feel intimidated. You kept your head high as you entered the room. You stopped before him, raising an eyebrow. “Sorry, you’re in my seat.” You even crossed your arms over your chest, trying to appear as intimidating and annoyed but you doubted it had any effect over the male.

“I know,” He replied casually, daring to lean back in the chair. He looked up at you, his eyes daring to snake down your body before his lips turned up into a ghost of a sideways-smirk.

You felt humiliation and some form of anger fluttered in your chest. You had a feeling the student before you either hated you, or was determined to test you within an inch of your abilities just because you were the new, young teacher.

You stepped closer and raised an eyebrow, trying to appear confident but the sweat forming on your palms told yourself otherwise. “Please go to your own seat,” You spoke, begging your voice to not shake and waver your authority over him.

The man before you stood from your seat and made sure as he walked past you, his body was as close to yours as he could get away with despite there being more than enough space for him to pass around you. You let out a breath you didn’t know you was holding, then shook your head. You placed your flask down carefully, scared you’d drop it if you held it for much longer.

You made your way to your desk and gently sat down, crossing one leg over the other. You placed your laptop on top of the desk and looked over your laptop screen to steal a glance in Heeseung’s director. He was staring right at you, so you rushed to look down, acting as if you were looking at the top of your screen and not over it.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” His voice filled the room after several moments of silence, scaring you from the sudden noise and causing you to jump and hit your flask, which in turn ended up coating your brand new white shirt.

“Shit!” You stand quickly, trying to pull your shirt from the skin as the heat burned. You didn’t hear the scrape of the chair before the man rushed to your side, a handful of tissues in his grip. You didn’t even think about what was happening, allowing him to try to soak up some of the hot liquid with the tissues. The stain remained, but the shirt was slowly becoming dryer.

When you realised your student was abnormally and uncomfortably close to you, you stepped back and rushed out a jumble of what was meant to be a thank you before you grabbed your jacket and went to make a move to run to the bathrooms.

Heeseung grabbed the back of your bag to stop you from escaping. You stopped in your tracks and watched as he slipped off his green jumper and held it out to you, leaving him in only a white t-shirt. You didn’t carry spare clothes for potential accidents, and at that moment you were desperate so you grabbed his jumper with a smile, then ran off to the bathroom.

“So don’t forget, your characters need to make the audience feel something and sympathise with them within the first five minutes at least, or else the audience will be turning their screens off,” You finished as you got to the end of your PowerPoint.

“Does anyone have any questions?” You asked, going to tuck a piece of hair behind your hair but then cringing at the realisation your hair, a wet coffee stained mess, was tied back.

“Whose jumper is that, Professor Y/N?” One of your best and friendliest students asked. She looked you up and down, and then wiggled her eyebrows. “It’s so big on you and my boyfriend has the exact same one, so I know it’s a man’s jumper.”

You wave your hand dismissively and force a laugh. Your cheeks were stained red in betrayal, and your mouth rejected the words your student suggested. “This is just a jumper I bought because it looked comfortable, it’s not a jumper of a boyfriend or anything. I like the baggy style of clothing,” You tried to defend yourself, but no one was falling for it.

The rightful owner smirked from his seat, his eyes avoiding you but a sense of pride and ownership came over him. In some sick twisted way, he was wanted to express the jumper was his and claim you as his own, but he knew now was not the time and it was unlikely he would get away with it without you shouting at him.

Your students settled down and chose to quit the questions about your love life when they soon realised you were going to remain tight lipped about the subject, but ever so slightly, for just a brief moment, your eyes glanced in Heeseung’s direction during the duration of the questions.

Your heart deflated when you noticed him talking to someone else, not so much as a care in the world. It was wrong to feel that way about a student, you knew that. But you couldn’t help it. He was, after all, the golden student—and dare you say it, your favourite student.

“Oh, come on,” Your friend whined as she draped her body over yours when she threw herself down on your sofa. “It’s just one night out, we used to love going to costume parties. Please say yes, I’ll never ask you to buy the wine on our Friday nights ever again!” Your friend rushed to kneel by your side, her eyes wide and her lips turned down in a sad, yet begging emotion. She even added the rubbing of her hands in a praying position.

She always knew exactly how to wrap you around her finger and get you to accept her pleas with next to no effort.

You stared at her for several long seconds before you threw your head back and groaned with defeat. “Fine, yes, I’ll fucking go. But you’re making all the effort and choosing the outfits. I’m just going to be getting dressed and turning up. Nothing more, nothing less.

Your friend smiled wide and nodded her head, already scheming all the ways she can dress you hot, and finally find you a good lay for the night.

“You won’t regret it, I promise. I’m going to make us look so hot–” You zoned out while she spoke, looking down at the green jumper you wore. You had better get it cleaned and hand it back to Heeseung…

You stood in front of the mirror in a small white dress, white stockings, white heels, and feathery angel wings for decoration with a halo on top of your head to complete the look. Your hair was left in waves and your makeup was gentle, yet sultry.

“Damn girl, you look hot,” You friend jokingly landed a spank on your ass before she came to stand beside you in an almost matching outfit, but everything in red and black with torn wings and horns replacing the halo.

“As do you,” You grinned at your friend before you sucked in a breath. Sure, some weeks ago you had complained endlessly about going out to some event which would likely be filled with those younger than you, but you needed a fun night out after the week you’d been having.

One of the older male faculty members had overheard your students singing your praises, even deeming you their favourite out of all the tutors. He didn’t take too kindly to that as he had been teaching them from the start, but you? You were new. Unknown. The tutor decided to make your life hell, making you do all the things a teach assistant would do. He made you get him coffee every morning, print his paper packs out, and he even made you get him lunch.

You had failed to see Heeseung the whole week, and had still yet to give him his jumper back. You were busy in work with your own classes, you didn’t have time to be running after a student and a faculty member harbouring bad feelings.

Tonight was the night you were going to forget about it all, if at least just for a few hours.

Your friend grabbed your bag and held it over her shoulder while the pair of you walked out of your apartment, then outside the building. The walk wasn’t too far to get to the venue for the costume party from where you lived, and as you made your way, you could already hear the thumping music.

You weren’t used to wearing heels anymore, so you kept almost stumbling but you chose to ignore the ache in your ankles and toes and kept walking right through the crowd of people scattered around in costumes and walked right into the venue, not even noticing you lost your friend in the crowd of people on the way.

The music was loud, addicting. It pulled your body to the dance floor, and that was where you spent most of the night. Some men bought you drinks and shoved them in your hands to consume, and while you should have been more resilient and not be so willing to accept drinks from strangers, you needed a release from stress and could care less about your safety. Surely no one would do anything back to you in a crowd of people?

You felt hands snake around your waist and huffed for what felt like the millionth time that night, about to turn and push the person away, but before you could turn in their arms you felt a breath of air against your neck and heard a familiar voice say in your ear, “Well, who would have expected to have seen here here, Professor Y/N.”

You felt heat rise up your neck and cheeks and moved your hands to place on top of his, trying to remove his hands from your sides with no luck. He was much, much more sober than yourself and so was stronger.

“Heeseung, what are you doing here?” You asked, managing to squeeze a way to turn around in his arms to face him. You ignored the close proximity, your faces close to one another.

“I’m partying with my friends, duh,” He replied with a cocked eyebrow and his famous side smirk that had you in a secret chokehold.

You noticed he was in a racer costume, his hair gelled back. You didn’t know what came over you, but one of your hands grabbed his cheeks and pushed them together so his lips smushed together. “You haven’t come to class in a while, I haven’t been able to give you your jumper back.”

Heeseung smiled and managed to get out, “You can keep it, it looks better on you.”

You rolled your eyes before your hand dropped to lazily wrap around his neck, not noticing how both your bodies swayed together in time with the music. “Everyone will get the wrong idea about us.”

“The only wrong idea about us is that my cock hasn’t been in your pretty little pussy yet,” He words were lewd, and you felt your stomach turn at them. Your eyes went wide, your lips parting slightly. The expression on your face said, ‘yes please’, but your lips held firm in rejection.

“I’m your teacher, I can’t have sex with you,” You were firm at the idea, but you made no effort to push his hands off your body as his one hand reached for your ass with a rough squeeze. “Plus… I don’t do those things anymore. It’s been… It’s been a while,” Your words trail off, only making Heeseung smirk more.

“All the more reason to let me fuck you senseless. I heard you’ve been stressed in class the last week. I can’t think of a better stress reliever than having you bouncing on some good dick. Don’t you agree?” Heeseung tried to tempt you again, his hands daring to move from your ass to between your thighs, pushing upwards under your skirt despite the crowd of people surrounding you.

You close your eyes and hum at the feeling, your body begging for the touch of a man. You go to reject his offer once again, but the alcohol and need for sex was begging for you to give in and allow Heeseung to have his way with you. Hard. So you opened your eyes and nodded your head eagerly. You grabbed his hand from between your legs. “Let’s go. If we don’t leave now, then this will never happen.”

Heeseung nodded his head quickly, his brain going numb with your words. He didn’t expect you to say yes so easily, but he did use the stress card against you. Maybe that was mean of him. You seemed very stressed lately. But the thought of helping you destress made his cock twitch. He was going to make sure you had a chance to destress, even if it took all night.

You dragged Heeseung pretty much all the way to apartment, but he could walk faster than you due to his longer legs and the fact you wore heels. He was right on your tail, his lips trailing along your shoulder and neck while his mouth spoke filthy words.

You got to the lobby area of your hotel and stumbled in your feels as you tried to practically run to the elevator. Heeseung thought that was a cute move, but resisted the urge to laugh. He smirked slightly to himself, then allowed you to grab his shirt and pull him inside the elevator.

Due to no one else stepping inside, Heeseung pushed you against the elevator wall and pressed his lips to yours for the first time. The kiss wasn’t as sloppy as he expected. He was gentle with the pressure he applied, and you reciprocated with the same. You parted your lips into the kiss, allowing his tongue access into your mouth but the elevator made a ding noise, signalling the door were to open soon.

You pulled your mouth off of his but still remained close, you arms around his body was you watched the doors. The floor was yours, and no one else was waiting to get on. You went back to dragging Heeseung along by his shirt, pulling him through the hallway to your door before you began typing to code into your handle.

As you focused your attention off him, Heeseung’s lips attached to your neck while his hands ran up and down your sides in feather-light touches. He wanted, no, needed you. And you would never admit it, but you needed him too.

You rushed to type your code in the door, then pushed it open. You used your back to keep it propped open before you grabbed his shirt and pulled him to crash your lips together, then you pulled him backwards inside your apartment. The door shut behind you both with a soft click, and the automatic lights illuminated the way down the hallway to your bedroom.

You reached behind you to push the door open and almost fall at the action to which Heeseung laughs against your lips. You go to scold him for not caring if you fell, but as you opened your mouth he pushed his tongue inside to gently massage it against your own. You never liked the idea of that type of kissing before, but with Heeseung, it was as if your body had a mind of its own.

Heeseung grabbed the halo sat on top of your head and pulled back from the kiss just enough to smirk at it and tut. “You won’t be needing this anymore after all the ways I’m about to corrupt you.”

You rolled your eyes at his cocky tone and grabs his jaw with your hands, forcing him to look at you. “Who’s to say all angels are good?”

Heeseung smiled at your response and pressed a single kiss to your lips before he bent down and wrapped his arms around our thighs, picking you up just enough to throw you backwards onto your bed.

He instantly leant down on top of you, his hands holding onto your thighs as he pressed his crotch tight against your own. You could feel his bulge through the thin material of your panties and moaned with need.

Heeseung gave a teasing thrust against you, smirking at your moan again. “God, you sound so beautiful.” He gently rubbed his thumb over your lower lip before his crashed his lips back to yours, kissing sloppily before he kept grinding against you.

You pushed his shoulders and whined, “Please stop teasing, I need you.”

Heeseung smirked as he watched your face as you tried not to squirm under him. His hands moved from your thighs upwards and reached your panties. He raised an eyebrow as his fingertips felt the material. “Lace? Never took you for a lace panties kind of woman.”

You rolled your eyes but laughed nonetheless, lifting your helps to allow him to pull them down. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Lee Heeseung.”

Heeseung lent down, his lips ghosting over yours as he spoke next. “Well then it’s time you taught me, don’t you think?”

#enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #heeseung #enhypen heeseung #enhypen lee heeseung #lee heeseung #enhypen heeseung smut #heeseung smut #heeseung scenarios

[nexility-sims]

𝐍𝐎. 𝟓   ❛ 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 ❜   |   THE DEN & NAKAWE PALACE, AUGUST 1991

❧  𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲  /  𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠  /  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬  /  𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

   ❛  She’ll be here any minute.' Arnaut proffered yet another empty explanation to fill the silence. The premier granted forty-five minutes, but he had already spent fifteen giving intermittent assurances that Leonor was en route, delayed in some unpreventable way. Although known as gregarious and energetic, Premier Eladio Guillen sat across from Arnaut this entire time with a small, static smile. The anticipatory silence that dragged on seemed not to faze him. Waiting grated Arnaut’s nerves, meanwhile, as did attempting to puzzle out Guillen’s thoughts. Every minute of quiet that passed constituted some kind of failed test, he was certain. Yet, he exhausted his list of aide-approved topics within the first three minutes, and Guillen resisted his efforts to sidetrack the stillborn conversation into small talk. It could only be taken as a clear, loud message that the premier preferred to sit in total silence than humor Arnaut’s attempts. 

❧ important psa: leonor is her grandmother's granddaughter; additionally, i did not proofread much and should've so sdjfsdf if you notice anything off, no you didn't !!!

𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝 & 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

In fact, Leonor was due to be there any minute. She was in the parking garage of Nakawe Palace's complex, and she had arrived there just ten minutes past the appointed time. What kept her was the newspaper she’d snagged from a stand on Oceanside Avenue. It wasn’t a respectable publication, certainly not Nakawe’s paper of record, but its headline for the day caught her eye. That was rare. Even if tabloid chatter affected her subliminally, she wasn’t one to read the stories or pay much attention to the headlines. The newsstands she passed in the course of daily life were easy to ignore; someone delivered her preferred papers and magazines each morning, whether or not she planned to open them. This paper’s claim cut through the inane, sensational fabrications about her body, her love life, the silly woes with which some two-bit copywriter claimed to empathize.

It was almost certain that her having bought a copy of the day’s paper accusing her drug abuse would become tomorrow’s headline. At any rate, the shocked vendor stared. So too did other pedestrians as they passed. The speculation wrote itself. Why, after all, would she have bothered if there wasn’t something to it? Incensed, morbid curiosity wouldn’t do. There had to be a more salacious explanation; it was the one that argued her interest was somehow proof of guilt. But, the simple truth was that she had gasped at the sight of it: a grabby headline, juxtaposed photos innocuous on their own but damning in this contrived context, an authoritative quotation of concern from some anonymous acquaintance. The front page promised a full story unfurled inside, and Leonor, who had never been accused of wrongdoing in her life, became consumed with the need to know every lie printed within the pages. 

As she sat in the car, reading about how her alter-self had become obsessed with benzos and tried heroin with a hard rock band, she knew there was no recourse. The Crown wouldn’t respond. These papers could publish whatever they liked, and they weighed that freedom against the constriction of access it only sometimes engendered. Leonor’s people had been silent and inflexible since winter—a moribund policy rolled over from before, when she was an off-limits teenager regarded as inseparable from the entity of her mother. Perhaps that was why she became fair game once the mourning moratorium lifted. More likely, the press’s the dark underbelly dwellers knew the larger apparatus of the royal family saw value in any public discourse about its members. Individual reputations were less of a concern, especially when the Crown itself and more reputable papers churned out flattering, factual stories to complicate any emerging narratives. For some time, gossip and relevance went hand-in-hand. Beatriz’s vision of the monarchy was increasingly a flirtatious one, winking when provocation paid off and demurring when it didn’t. Leonor had never needed to think too hard about it. Her mother went through the grinder time and time again, but her popularity remained intact, and she hadn’t ever let on, at least to her daughter, how terrible it felt. 

It was within Leonor’s power to huddle her team and insist they at least pretend to respond. Her little household was hardly autonomous, but it didn’t need to be. Leonor complaining to her grandparents about rude tabloids would get her nowhere; a conversation among aides about public relations, on the other hand, at least created an official paper trail of bureaucratic value. Yet, that was why she found herself frustrated. This paper she held in her hands trumpeted glaring, clumsy lies. Those lies, however, didn’t need to be rooted in fact if they had been planted in a context that made them feel plausible. For the average Uspanian, the takeaway wasn’t in the details. Most people cast idle glances at the newsstands, noticing ugly candids and buzzwords, passively gleaning less of a coherent story and more of an ambient sense. Leonor’s new friends and hangouts weren’t the kind of blank slate she had been. They came with their own public associations, jumbled facts, wild fabrications. These particular details were false, and The Den remained a locked vault to the public, but it wasn’t outlandish to imagine her as part of the scene if ample photographs and videos suggested she was. 

Leonor closed the paper and laid it on the passenger seat. It sat there, folded, for just a few seconds before she snatched it up again. Quickly, angrily, she tore at it. It wouldn’t rip down the middle, so she yanked out the pages instead. They shredded into scraps as she pulled wildly with haphazard, hurried fingers. Almost as fast as the impulse struck, it ran out of steam. Leonor stopped what she was doing and, feeling satisfied but far from content, tossed the mangled paper into the backseat. 

When Leonor entered the premier’s sitting room, Arnaut watched with disbelief. She strolled in appearing unperturbed by her tardiness, and the apology she offered to Guillen as he rose to clasp her hands was simple at best. It didn’t bother him. His reception of her made his demeanor toward Arnaut earlier that afternoon seem lukewarm—unwelcoming, even. They interacted like people who were well-acquainted; Guillen’s famed charm leapt out as he kissed her cheek and made a joke about Nakawe’s drivers, and Leonor took up space in the room with ease.

Arnaut knew, in theory, he had received an upbringing not dissimilar from hers. They learned the same rules of comportment, and they learned the art of politics from the same teachers. In preparation for today, they had received the same briefs with identical preparation from the same team of aides. Yet, as Leonor settled into the sofa beside him and suggested with unimpeachable authority that they get to work, Arnaut felt the distance between them stretch to its true size. There was no substitute for experience, and there was no hiding its absence. Arnaut had been on the periphery of Uspanian public life for over a decade. Everyone remembered him as the immature, troublesome spare he had been. They viewed his life abroad as suspect. Worse, each day brought a litany of small reminders that no one much cared about who he was now or who he intended to become. 

The television summarized it well just a few nights prior. These days, Arnaut watched news broadcasts as if it were a ritual, often doing so with a pen and pad that Lorraine politely ignored. USB’s evening news hour aired interviews with passersby on the streets of Nakawe as part of its programming. One elderly woman, prompted for an opinion on the crown prince, had furrowed her brow deep and hard. ‘Well, I think he is in for the most tragedy,’ she said finally. ‘People don’t change at forty. They just don’t. I lived long enough to know. You grow up right into who you are. So, what Uspana needs, he isn’t.’

Arnaut had been so immediately agitated by despair that he leapt from the couch and began to pace, talking aloud of how easy it would be to identify the woman, to find out where she lived, to go there with a box of sweets and get on his knees and beg her to change her mind. ‘Let me prove it to you,’ he would plead, holding her frail hands. Perhaps he would cling to her feet and even  pepper the crooked toes peeking from her sandals with supplicatory kisses. ‘Give me a few good years to show you that I’m different.’ That was how he would frame it, too. She was right that it was a fool’s errand to prove he could change. What he hoped—the hopes that were, almost daily, dashed to dust—was that someone different lurked under the surface, suffocated for too long but real enough to show his face if Arnaut somehow found a way.

That way was elusive, although Arnaut knew he would never find it if he capitulated so easily. Today’s meeting felt bungled already, but he pushed himself to see Leonor’s arrival as a reset, as a reinvigoration, rather than a performance of naturality that he could never possess. He struggled to believe in his heart that the ability to rule flowed through his veins as much as hers, but it was more compelling to remind himself that he had been trained for this, too. Had he been as serious about it as she had, that deceptive distance between them would be more of a trench than a canyon. What mattered now was exactly that: he was serious now and, if the unexplained absence meant anything, perhaps even more serious than she was. 

As the conversation turned to business, Guillen let out a sigh. “Fast-tracking legislation when there’s a passing is no way to run a government,” he explained, his tone light and wry even as he regarded them both with an earnest look of condolence. 

“We’d be doubling offshore drilling in memory of Mario Esparza,” Leonor quipped. The comment prompted a laugh from Guillen, who pointed at Leonor and nodded emphatically. 

Arnaut, meanwhile, sat bemused and wearing a vacant smile. The name didn’t ring a bell. He knew enough about the politics to understand why the policy idea was ridiculous, but he wasn’t privy to the personal backstory that gave it flavor in this context. Arnaut had once believed the capital to be a slow-paced, change-resistant bastion of tradition. The monarchy was sometimes accused of being arrested by its reverence for the old ways, and the legislative assembly had its own superficial but no less real way of doing things. People were the backbone of that. Perhaps naively, Arnaut had expected to find the same names in circulation a decade later. He hadn’t accounted for the turnover, but he also hadn’t accounted for how poorly acquainted with those people—with them, with their place in politics, with their connections to others, with the culture that glued them all together—he had been. It was difficult to insert himself now, knowing he had passed up the opportunity to belong as intuitively to this world as everyone around him did. 

Having noticed Arnaut’s expression, Guillen asked, “You remember Mario, right? You’ve met Paula?”

“His wife?” Arnaut, with the urgency of panic, responded.

Leonor snorted, and Guillen raised his brows before clarifying, “His daughter. She’s filling his seat until the provincial election is held, so I assumed—”

“Forgive my uncle,” Leonor said, casting a look his way. “He’s not in the know about any of this. Good thing it’s not his job to be, huh?”

It was clear Guillen wanted to chuckle, but he remained quiet with his lips quirked in a smile that Arnaut found somehow just as offensive. He looked away from the premier’s expression to regard Leonor with quizzical eyes. 

Apparently not finished, Leonor added, “You haven’t asked yet, but I’m going to assume Diago Tegridia has been talking to you. He’s never been a fan—especially not of the part about funding students’ studying abroad. My mother planned to massage him on it, but he won’t take any of my uncle’s calls, so—” 

Arnaut, growing nervous, laughed. “Well, I wouldn’t say that—”

“No? I suspect it’s because he offended him during a hallway chat,” Leonor said with a shrug. “Like with Paula? Similar misstep. If you don’t know who’s who and what’s what, that makes it hard to do business, doesn’t it?” 

“That’s not relevant, Leonor, is it?” Arnaut asked. From the corner of his eye, he saw Guillen sitting with the same amused, forbearing smirk on his face. “This meeting has nothing to do with Representative Tegridia, and definitely not a casual conversation we might’ve had.”

With an eyeroll, Leonor laughed, “There, see?”

Guillen nodded and offered Arnaut what was, it seemed, his best attempt at a placating smile. “I’ll admit,” he began, looking from Arnaut to Leonor, “Diago does have strong opinions, and I’ve been inclined to hear him out where he has expertise. But, alright, why don’t you walk me through the particulars again—to save time, just make the counterargument to his?” 

Leonor turned more fully to face Arnaut, her expression expectant. They stared at each other for a long moment while he assessed the challenging look in her eyes and what she wanted from him,. He remained all too aware that Guillen was staring and judging, too. More than a challenge, Arnaut saw mischief in her eyes. Leonor was unwilling to look away or say anything. The corners of her lips were curled—not altogether a smirk, perhaps something more predatory, as if she intended to bare her teeth instead of break into a smile. The more seconds passed, the more pleased she seemed. 

He turned back to Guillen with a sigh, concluding, “… I’ll let Leonor take the lead.”

TRANSCRIPT:

RENZO | Have I see you in blue? In person. LEONOR | Maybe once?

RENZO | It looks good. Black is better. Brown. White, whew. LEONOR | It’s for work. Work! I’m going to be late. Poor uncle.

RENZO | He’ll be alright? LEONOR | He’s a big boy. RENZO | Stick around a little longer? LEONOR | Nice try.

ARNAUT | She’ll be here in a minute.

GUILLEN | [Sighs] Fast-tracking legislation when there’s a passing is no way to run a government.

LEONOR | We’d be doubling offshore drilling in memory of Mario Esparza.

GUILLEN | You remember Mario, right? You’ve met Paula? ARNAUT | … His wife? [Leonor snorts] GUILLEN | His daughter. She’s filling his seat until the provincial election is held, so I assumed—

LEONOR | He’s not in the know about any of this. Good thing it’s not his job to be, huh?

LEONOR | You haven’t asked yet, but I’m going to assume Diago Tegridia has been talking to you. He’s never been a fan—especially not of the part about funding students’ studying abroad. My mother planned to massage him on it, but he won’t take any of my uncle’s calls, so— ARNAUT | Well, I wouldn’t say that—

LEONOR | No? I suspect it’s because he offended him during a hallway chat. Like with Paula? Similar misstep. If you don’t know who’s who and what’s what, that makes it hard to do business, doesn’t it? ARNAUT | That's not relevant, Leonor, is it?

ARNAUT | This meeting has nothing to do with Representative Tegridia, and definitely not a casual conversation we might’ve had. LEONOR | There, see?

GUILLEN | I'll admit, Diago does have strong opinions, and I’ve been inclined to hear him out where he has expertise. But, alright, why don’t you walk me through the particulars again—to save time, just make the counterargument to his?

ARNAUT | … I’ll let Leonor take the lead.

ARNAUT | Where are you going? We’re debriefing upstairs in five minutes. LEONOR | Clocking out early. ARNAUT | Did you let Central know? It’s a weekday. You can’t leave the premises without giving them notice. LEONOR | [Chuckles] No, you’re just not supposed to.

ARNAUT | You don’t think anyone will notice the … slacking off? Talk? LEONOR | What, are you going to tattle on me? ARNAUT | I don't have to. I’m just saying it’s a bad look. Trust me.

LEONOR | You should worry about yourself, uncle. Trust me.

#ts4 story #sims story #sims 4 story #royal sims #simblr #ts4 legacy #1992.story.post #1992.a1 #1992.e04