#so it looks very Old in here. some may say it's dated but i lean into it and say it's vintage lol

[henry7931]

Babe It’s Okay, I’m Bi

James:

This beautiful man right here is my girlfriend Chloe. It’s a very weird situation so let me explain, a couple weeks ago Chloe was in some strange science experiment accident that caused her to swap bodies with this guy named Derek.

And from what information we’ve collected this may be a permanent situation. As you can imagine she’s been pretty upset the last couple of weeks. And I’ve been trying to be the best to support her while she figures everything out.

It’s been a challenge for the both of us especially since we just moved in together a couple of months ago. We’ve been dating for a while but I think we’re at a point where I’ve been thinking about proposing which this just messed everything up. Well not completely I guess…

I have been holding on to a secret from her for years now and I don’t know how to say it. Not that I ever thought it really mattered until now.

The truth is really don’t care if she swaps back to her old body, I love her. Okay let just say it, I am sexually attracted to girls but I also like dudes. Specifically dudes like the body she’s in.

She or he is so freaking handsome! He’s tall, tan skin, has this really sexy stash, and I can’t get over his tattoos. So hot!

But I’ve been trying to walk a very careful line with him. And we still low key flirt all the time but I can see his hesitation.

Which makes me sad, I just wish I can tell him without hurting his feelings.

On the flip side, it would so help since every time he asks me something about being a guy I get extremely turned on. Like why are his balls itchy from time to time, why is it easier to pee standing up, and the boners!

I don’t know if he even notices but he’ll walk around with a hard on in our apartment and it’s everything in me not to reach out and dig into his briefs.

Which makes me wonder, when the hell does he jerk off? I know he’s been staying busy lately, I’m just curious how he makes the time.

He’s been hitting up the gym a lot and when comes home. He’ll kick off his smelly shoes, workout clothes, and walk around sweaty in nothing but his undies. Which I can’t help but stare.

And the hardest part is at night, we still sleep in the same bed.

It’s my favorite part because he will cuddle with me in his sleep. I don’t think he even notices that I let him. But every night I’ll something poking my back and then his arm will wrap around me. He’ll start humping me in his sleep from time to time.

But I need to get this off of my chest. This is probably going to be permanent and I desperately want my relationship back!

So tonight I’m going for it. I’m going to let him know that I’m into him.

That Night:

I get off of work around 6 and the second I walk through the door I hear a light moaning coming from another room.

I walk to the outside of the door and peak inside.

That’s when I see Chloe stroking it on our bed with his headphones in. I don’t think he can hear me.

I hear his voice, “James..” so softly…

Fuck, he’s jerking to pics of me.

“James… baby I want you so bad…”

I start unbuttoning my shirt and I kick off my shoes ready to jump in any second.

“Holy shit! James!”

All of the sudden Chloe grabs a pillow and covers his massive boner.

I grin at him and say, “You don’t need your cover yourself I was enjoying the show babe.”

“Oh shut up you’re just saying that!”

“No, I mean it,” I say walking over and unbuckling my pants.

“Babe, you don’t have to pretend for me. I know this isn’t ideal but—“

I immediately grab the pillow and pull it away. His dick is fully exposed and he has this shocked look on his face.

Before he can react, I grab his junk and say, “does this look like I’m pretending?”

“But… but… I’m a guy!”

I start fondling his junk just lightly tickling his balls.

“Yeah and I haven’t been honest with you,” I say leaning in to his face.

“Yeah?” he says to me softly.

“I don’t really care what body you’re in, I’m attracted to you. And sides, you wouldn’t be the first guy I’ve been with.”

“What the hell James!”

I start rubbing his cockhead and he lets out a yelp noise.

“Can we talk about this later? I’ve been waiting to do this with you for a minute now,” I say right before kissing his neck.

“Oh my! James that feels so damn good.”

I kiss down his neck until I get to his nipples.

I twist one of them which makes his eyes roll back into his head.

I kiss down his chest to his happy trail until I’m at his thighs.

“God you have the nicest dick,” I say to him.

He grins, “thanks I think I like it too.”

“Well I think you’re going to like it more after this.”

“Huh?”

I wrap my lips around his dick giving it a very sloppy kiss. I begin to take down my throat which causes him to moan even louder.

“Holy shit yeah I love having a dick!!” he lets out.

I stop for a sec to let out a giggle.

“You know this is going to change everything for our sex life right?”

“What do you mean?” He says confused.

“Well, I’m vers but we don’t know if you’re a top or bottom yet,” I say grinning.

His eyes get wide, “I mean I’m open to anything but will it hurt?”

“A little at first but we don’t have to try right now,” I say back.

I look over his fully naked lower half, it’s the first time I’ve gotten to see it this close.

I rub his thighs down to his feet. I look up at him and say, “hey can I do something?”

“Sure babe as long as you go back to sucking this,” he says holding out his hard cock.

I lift up his feet and bring them to my face. I take deep breath before inhaling them.

“Are you kidding me?!? You’re not just bi but have a foot fetish?”

“Well I wouldn’t go that far, you just have some sexy toes,” I say kissing them.

“Yeah they are nice I guess, even for a boy.”

I pull off my pants and boxers, we’re both naked now.

“Oh I’ve missed your dick babe!”

“Aw thanks!”

“Can I touch it?” he says reach out.

“I would love nothing more”

I feel his hands touching all over my junk. It feels so good. Thats when I got another idea.

“Hey since we both have dicks now? What if we 69?”

“I’m not opposed!”

Chlo gets on top of me and starts to lower his crotch towards my face. I can feel his lips touch my dick. That’s when I feel his mustache which makes he squirm at bit.

It takes us a second before we have a full rhythm down. I’m sucking and we start pacing faster before Chlo lifts his head.

“Oh my god! I’m about to cum!!”

And with very little warning, Chlo pushes his 10 inch dick down my throat and shoots so much cum out.

As he pulls out it’s dripping from my mouth. It takes a second to register but his cum tastes pretty good.

“That was amazing,” he says panting.

“Well I’m not done yet,” I say pointing at my eager boner.

“Well how a nice surprise for you.”

That’s when he does something I’d never expect. Chlo wipes a bunch of cum off my mouth and proceeds to rub it on the soles of his feet.

“Since you like them so much,” he says with a silly grin.

He takes both of his feet and wraps his toes around my dick.

He begins to move back and forth with them and it’s so hot that I can’t even take it.

His feet touch my dick for like 1 minute before I burst all over them.

I look at the cum covered toes and I can’t help myself from licking them clean.

I go grab us a couple of towels and walk back in to see my beautiful boyfriend laying in bed grinning.

“You wanna go somewhere for dinner?” I say to him.

“Nah let’s do take out, I’ll be ready for round 2 here soon,” he says patting at the bed for me to come back.

“Fuck, I love you!”

“I love you too, even if you forgot to mention the whole liking guys thing.”

“Well babe, what can I say? I’m bi.”

#body swap #male body swap #permanent tf #ftm tf

[yardsards]

little man investigates a lamp

#this picture was strangely aesthetically pleasing??? #anyway 5 seconds after i took this pic he nearly knocked that table over again #it's not a very sturdy table and he knocked it over once already #but he has Orange Cat Syndrome and did not learn his lesson i think #eliot posts #vincent the cat #aes #yeah sure this goes in the aesthetic tag #i was not even Trying to take a pretty picture i just wanted more images of my silly little guy sniffing things #what aesthetic does this image even fall under #grandmacore #cabincore #cozycore #? something like that i reckon #this apartment has not seen a fresh remodel since before the cold war #and most of my furniture is either thrifted or came with the apartment #so it looks very Old in here. some may say it's dated but i lean into it and say it's vintage lol

[ericityyy]

Hello dear, i dont know if your tired of young sheldon requests but if you are im so sorry, i promise that for future requests it will be another fandom. But i was just thinking about georgie with a female reader where she is very protective over missy and makes sure she is not forgotten or less than sheldon, which george finds very cute.

Thank you so much

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐒𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘈 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘔𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘥.

𝙏𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙚: 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘎𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘉𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥’𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺

𝙏𝙮𝙥𝙚: 𝘍𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 600

𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

“Y/N, do you think I can join the baseball team?” Missy asked with an insecure look on her face. She’s been meaning to join the baseball team for some time and was about to talk to her father about this, but then she decided to consult Y/N first.

Y/N stopped putting nail polish on the younger girl’s feet to look at her. Missy, although she may always seem fierce, doesn’t change the fact that she’s still a little girl who sometimes doesn't get that much attention from her parents. The attention most of the time is to scold her.

Don’t get Y/N wrong; Mary and George are great parents, but a lot of the time, they don’t have much trust in Missy and Georgie, and for good reasons too since most of the time, the two of them have been troublemakers. However, that doesn't change the fact that they feel inferior to Sheldon due to how their parents treat him. It has always been Sheldon who gets most of the attention.

“I think if that coach won’t let you in the team, I’ll go there myself and give him a piece of my mind.” Y/N finished polishing Missy’s nails, looking proud as ever seeing the girl’s beaming smile. “You are great with the sport, and if he can’t see that, then that old guy must be having some sight problems.”

Missy teared up at her words. She has always treated Y/N like a sister, even before Georgie and she started dating. Y/N always had Missy’s back, when Mary praised Sheldon or when George made comments about Georgie and Missy being less than Sheldon.

Missy doesn’t have a team. Not until Y/N came.

“You always are so kind to me.” Missy sniffled, causing Y/N to coo at her, bringing the crying girl into her arms. “Thank you for being here with me when I need you. You’re my team.”

Y/N pulled away from the hug to wipe the girl’s tears away, giving her a warm smile. She then stood up and grabbed a baseball bat before throwing the ball softly at Missy’s bed. “How about you and I play some ball before you go to your tryouts?”

The two girls didn’t notice that Georgie was at the doorway, leaning, "Well, aren’t you two sweet?”

Missy and Y/N turned at Georgie, the former standing up from her bed and grabbing the ball before running outside her room shouting, “Come on, Y/N!”

Y/N laughed at the girl’s enthusiasm, then turned to her boyfriend, who was smiling at her, and asked, “What is it?”

Georgie shook his head, standing up straight and walking toward the girl, who had a baseball bat on her shoulder and a hand on her waist. Georgie, at this point, decided that he was deeply in love with her. “Nothing.” He put his hands on her waist. “I just love how you’re always there for my sister; you have always protected her, and I love you for it.”

The boy kissed his girl’s cheek, noticing the slight pink hue appearing on her skin as he smirked playfully. He still has that effect on her.

“Well, what can I say? I’m the big sister she never had. I am what you call a sister by heart.” Y/N proudly, albeit teasingly, put a hand over her chest where her heart is, closing her eyes with a smile on her face. Georgie rolled his eyes, despite the chuckle that left his lips.

"Yes, you are, darling. Yes, you are.”

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄

hi, i’m sorry this is short but i can’t really think of anything else. but i hope you like this though :>

i’m also fine with the georgie requests!! but yeah i do wish i get to write other fandoms though… it’s okay though!! i enjoy writing georgie cooper imagines!!

#x reader #georgie cooper x reader #young sheldon #georgie cooper #georgie #imagines #imagine #georgie cooper imagine #fluff imagine #fluff #missy cooper #missy #platonic #romantic

[xiakato]

HAN SOHEE - A Dead Rose In The Rain (M)

You never understood why she chose you of all people. She had options upon options, ranging from Idols to Actors. Yet she chose you, just a normal mechanic. What many may think is that she chose you to date and love, but no she chose you to use as a tool, a toy to rid her of desires. She chose you as Idols and Actors will be too much trouble. Too much drama for her, she wants it to be lowkey. She knows you won’t say anything, not that anyone would believe you. 

  Answering your door, you sigh seeing who it is, “Why are you here again?” 

“You say that as if you weren’t hoping for me to show up,” She pushes past you, into your meager apartment. The only good thing in your apartment is her, “Plus the rain is a pain.” 

“Never stopped you from going home before Sohee,” Your eyes finally leave her, landing onto the window as it’s pelted by the rain. The lightning in the distance lights up the darkened sky, adding a sense of beauty to the greyscale world, “Are you here just to use me again?” 

She looks at you, no feeling in her brown eyes, “I mean, that’s all you are to me Y/n, a toy.” 

   “Get out Sohee,” You point out of your still open door, “You have no place here.” 

“Don’t act like that~” She smirks, “You knew from the very beginning,” She walks up to you, her eyes are that of a predator looking at easy prey. Those eyes you used to love seeing but now you can't help but feel hatred. 

“Leave Sohee,” You steeled your resolve, “Don’t come back for the sake of both of us, don’t” You tell her watching her scoff, leaving. You quickly slam the door behind her, smiling to yourself. Yet the smile doesn’t last very long as it falls from your face as you sit on the couch staring at the ceiling. One of the main reasons why you got into this situation was the deal you made with her. Don’t fall in love, easier said than done. She was the most beautiful woman that you ever seen, and had the honor of having her in your bed. You turn looking back at the door, having multiple thoughts. The thought of chasing her down is most prominent. But she said it herself, you’re nothing but a toy to her. You get up and look down at the street in front of your apartment, looking at the water running through the gutters. You see her car parked off to the side of the street. You shake your head and move on, turning on music full volume to drown out the voices. You start cooking yourself food, Tsukemen. One of your favorites for a rainy day.  The knock on the door stops you in your tracks. A part of you hopes it’s her yet another part of you hopes she left for good.  You answer the door, revealing her, drenched from the rain. 

“Hi…” she smiles slightly, her jacket dripping water onto the floor in front of your door. 

“What do you want?” You ask her while leaning onto your door, wanting to slam the door shut.  

“Um… can I come in?” She asks softly, you immediately shake your head, “thought as much. Um.. I’m sorry for what I said. It’s just I fucked up on our deal.” 

“What do you mean So-” 

“I fell in love. I fell in love with you,” She cuts you off staring into your eyes, “I know we made that deal not to fall in love with each other, but I couldn’t stop it. The way you smiled at me for no reason, the love that your eyes held.” 

“Stop Sohee, you know that after everything I can’t believe you.” 

“Let me prove it to you Y/n, please.” 

You sigh, fighting yourself internally, “Come inside, take a hot shower and change. I’m making some food so I guess you can eat too.” 

“Thank you Y/n,” She said, shivering, walking in and towards the bathroom. While he rushes back to the kitchen, tasting the broth. Taking it off the heat and setting the table waiting for her.  She comes back sitting in the chair across from you at the table, her body covered by one of your old tees. 

 “Eat Sohee,” She nods meekly, taking some noodles dipping them into the broth. You eat your own portion, silently watching her. She still is shivering but ever so slightly, “Why didn’t you just leave like you always do? Instead of looking like a dead rose in the rain.” 

“I was going to… But I just couldn’t. So I took a walk around real smart right? I did some thinking realizing what I’ve said to you how toxic this whole thing was especially for you,” The sadness in her eyes you can’t tell if it’s fake or not. She looks at you, tears threatening to fall from her beautiful eyes, “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.” 

You simply nod, turning your attention back to your food. It’s cold but it didn’t stop you from eating the rest of it. You ignore the sobs coming from across the table, as you take your dish to the sink washing it. You feel her wrap her arms around you, the tears staining the back from your shirt. Sighing, you turn around and hold her, letting her get it all out. After a few minutes she pulls back a little, looking up at you.

“C-Can I kiss you?” She asks, her eyes falling to your lips, you merely nod. Her lips collide with yours. Her kiss was filled with love, her kiss was filled with lust before. You kiss back, your arms fall picking her by her thighs lifting her onto the counter. Her arms wrap around your neck as you feel her tongue glide against your lips. Letting her tongue in, yours wrap around hers, fighting for dominance. Your hands grip onto her waist, as she pulls away. A string of saliva connecting your mouth to hers. Sliding off the counter, she grabs your hand pulling you to the bedroom. 

“I don’t think we should Sohee,” You try to reason with her but she pushes you onto the bed, peeling your tee off her frame. Revealing the body that no matter how many times you’ve seen it, it still amazes you. 

“I want to show you my love for you, in my own way,” She smiles brightly as she straddles you. She grinds as she feels your hard on through your sweats. Pulling them down as she slides down on her knees, she smiles as your 9 inches lays on her face, “I missed this.” 

“You had it last night Sohee,” You shake your head looking down at her as she starts peppering kisses up and down your shaft. 

“That doesn’t mean anything babyboy,” She giggles as she takes it into her mouth, her tongue swirling around your tip. Pushing your cock deeper into her throat, slightly gagging as her eyes roll back as she chokes on your cock. Pulling you out of her throat, spitting on and stroking your cock fast, “I love you and I love this cock,” She smiles looking at it glistening with her spit. Standing up, she fully strips going back to straddling you. She slides in you into her dripping wet pussy, “F-fuck so big~” 

“So tight Sohee,” You gasp, she was something that you never got used to. No matter how many times you were inside of her, she was just as tight as the first time. 

“Call me baby, just like all the other times you did,” She starts moving her hips, getting her riding set in a rhythm. 

“Fuck baby ride that dick just like that,” You tell her looking up at the beauty on top of you, her smile ever brighter as you fill her up. She gets to her feet, squatting down on your cock as she bounces on it. Her hands resting on your abs as she fucks herself using you. 

“F-fuck I’m so close baby,” She moans out as she bounces faster and faster. Her nails dig into her as her legs shake. Reaching her orgasm, your cock slips out as she squirts on you, “Fuck fuck fuck!” She rubs her clit as she squirts more. She scrambles to put your cock back into her, she leans down resting her forehead on yours as she keeps riding, “I love you, I love you so fucking much Y/n. I love you I love you I love you I love you,” She says over and over again as her hands cup your face, you swear if her eyes could they would have hearts in them. You reach down, gripping her ass trying to get some semblance of control, “Take control baby boy, use me~” 

You smirk as you flip off, grabbing ahold of her legs pushing them above her head. Your cock deeper in her than before, this position is something you always loved with her. The mating press, you start pounding away, pounding her into the bed without mercy. You stare at her as you keep going, her legs shaking and her eyes rolling back as she squirts more. You don’t stop as you wanted to break her for saying all those things to you. Slamming all of you in her, reaching places no one else would be able to reach in her, “This is what you wanted right?” You say between your grunting trying to keep your pace.

She nods frantically, “Fuck yes please, please give it to me. Give me that fat fucking cock,” She begs and begs, the mess of what your bedroom has become means nothing to you as of now. The only thing that matters to you is her, holding her, breaking her. You continue to give her what she wants, “Please daddy please cum in me, I’m only yours~” You smile as you get closer and closer though, you don’t know if you can get enough of her. You start cumming rope after rope as you keep pounding making sure you won’t leak out of her. Once you were satisfied you slowly pull out as she giggles, “I hope I have your baby~ I love you baby I love you I love you I love you,” She pulls you down littering your face with kisses. 

*A few years has passed* 

“So Sohee, welcome back to the world of acting. How was your break?” the interviewer asks.

“It was amazing, meeting someone as amazing as my husband as something that I longed for and I knew I needed to take some time off to really focus on making sure I get the love of my life.” 

“I’m so happy for you, How is Y/n and the baby?” 

“They are great, but of course Y/n is taking care of our little monster while I work.” 

You look away from the TV, and from your wife as you hear a cup drop, “Aigoo, Seol-Ah be more careful.”

#kpop smut #smut #kdrama #actress #Han sohee

[its-time-to-write]

hi, i love your writing! could i request something where jamie and reader are dating and jamie starts introducing them to the important people in his life, like roy, keeley, the richmond boys, etc. and each time they get introduced to someone new, whenever jamie steps away, they basically get some variation of the 'you better not hurt him' talk, and when jamie finds out he's worried that reader is gunna be offended or upset but they reassure him that it's fine, they think it's cute that everyone's so protective of him and that it's nice to see him have so many people care about him

Sorry this took FOREVER. Here it is!

the way it goes

It has been exactly twenty-one days since Jamie asked you out on a proper date, and you’re of the opinion that life can’t get much better than this. You’ve only met two of his teammates so far, (Isaac because he’s one of Jamie’s good friends and Richard because you ran into him while shopping) and honestly, they aren’t what you expected at all. 

They’re kind and they seem to genuinely like working together.

(It’s a little funny to call football “work.”)

Isaac tells Jamie to bring you next time they all hang out, and reminds him to buy more juice packs than last time so they don’t run out again.

—

Turns out the next “hang out,” is a night at Isaac’s, and the whole team is there with various partners and spouses. There’s a strict sweatpants-only drsesscode, and pretty much everyone is in clearly expensive matching sets. You’re grateful that Jamie shrunk a brand-new deep green set the other week, because you didn’t have time to go out and buy something new/not ratty.

There are tables of board games, a pile of snacks, and even a bar. Jamie drags you over so he can get “proper buzzed,” and requests something incredibly complicated from Beard, who appears to be the only coach present.

“Babe,” Jamie says, “you good here? I’m gonna get some food.”

You nod and watch him weave through groups of people. You lean against the bar and wait for Jamie’s drink.

“So,” says Beard, “you’re Jamie’s girlfriend.

You nod. “Yeah, I am. I’ve known him for ages, though. Since I was in uni. Always thought he was just some prick footballer trying to score, if you know what I mean.”

Beard chuckles. “I get it. He’s a bit of an asshole sometimes.”

You grin. “He’s my asshole.”

Beard slides you Jamie’s drink but before he completely lets it go, he says, “Hey.”

His voice has lost its jocularity, so you look up to meet his (very intense, slightly terrifying) eyes.

“Jamie doesn’t need his heart broken. He may have been a giant prick, but he’s different now. He’s not the kind of guy you can just screw and move on from.”

Your mouth has gone a little dry, so you just nod. Right then. You turn to go find Jamie and hope he won’t mind if you take a sip of his drink. You’re planning on staying sober tonight, so that one sip is going to have to get you through till the end.

It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s told you to be careful with Jamie. The first time was actually Roy’s niece, Phoebe. Jamie was babysitting and he asked you to come along, so while he was paying for ice creams Phoebe tugged your arm so you’d get down to her level and said, “If you make him cry, they’ll never find you again.”

You had looked at her in shock while she matter-of-factly stated, “My Uncle Roy’s been teaching me things.”

She said the word things far too ominously for an eight year old, but then Jamie came back and she was all smiles again. 

You got a similar, equally threatening talk from Phoebe’s mum, and then from Roy, and then Roy’s girlfriend Keeley.

Variations of the “break him and I’ll break you” talk had begun to trickle in whenever you’d pick up Jamie from Nelson Road. The tone ranged from Sam’s vaguely threatening, “We all love Jamie very much. We’re incredibly protective of him,” to Jan Maas’s blunt, “If you break his heart, you will never find another date on this entire continent.

Even Ted had a comment, which was more along the lines of, Jamie’s a big softie, he doesn’t need some to play him right now, he needs a real supporter. Each time, you assured them that you weren’t going to hurt him. You didn’t ask why they thought you would be the one doing the hurting when he was the one with the reputation.

Because you are fully aware of his reputation. You hadn’t seen Lust Conquers All, but you’d seen enough clips to piece together exactly how it went. And you’d seen the details of his cheating scandals all over the papers. And dealt with him firsthand while in uni. So yeah, Jamie’s past prick-ish behavior is not a mystery to you.

You find it endearing that so many people love him enough to protect him. It’s a good sign, you think.

You find Jamie carefully stacking various snacks on a tiny, tiny plate. His face lights up when you come into view.

“Oh good,” he says. “Extra hands.” He grabs his drink with one hand and gives you the plate with the other. He starts piling on something flaky and slightly green. 

“Isaac’s girlfriend makes these fucking pistachio things, and they always go way too fast. Gotta eat them while you can,” he says while creating an engineering marvel.

“Glad you like ‘em, bruv,” comes Isaac’s voice from behind you. You jump a little, and the plate wobbles. 

You turn to see Isaac with an absolutely gorgeous woman on his arm.

“I’m Stella,” she says. “It’s wonderful to meet you. We’ll have to have you two over for a real dinner.”

Jamie and Isaac quickly become engrossed in a serious discussion about football tactics, with Jamie downing his drink and then taking the plate of food from you. He was right, those pistachio things are amazing.

You chat with Stella for a little bit and learn she’s the face of a modeling agency and met Isaac during some football/branding thing.

“He was the only one during the entire shoot who made sure I was drinking enough water,” she laughs. “Who knew the way to my heart was through proper hydration?”

You talk a little longer before Jamie’s arm is snaking around your waist to whisk you off to see Dani. It goes like that for a little while until you finally settle down at one of the game tables. It’s a card game involving a lot of yelling and pointing fingers.

The house is noisy and cozy, filled to the brim with people who are just comfortable around each other, and you think you’ve never experienced something like this in your whole life.

Jamie on the other hand, is yawning a little bit. His hand, which had been on your knee tracing squiggly patterns, is starting to slow down so you put yours on top of his and whisper, “You about ready to go?”

Jamie nods and presses a kiss to the side of your head.

“Got fucking extra training tomorrow,” he quietly laments.

You get up to leave and Jamie follows suit with a very loud pronouncement that he’d rather be somewhere private, much to the amusement of the Greyhounds who begin to hoot and whistle. You roll your eyes and smack his butt on the way out.

Forty-five minutes later, Isaac’s phone dings with a photo of Jamie in a pink robe and green face mask, hair pulled back in an equally pink and fluffy headband. He’s lying on your bed and he can see the tv screen playing Notting Hill. You’ve typed, Someplace private, my ass, and Isaac just shakes his head and grins. Fucking Jamie. Prick on the outside, softie on the inside.

You better not break his heart, he writes.

HAH comes your reply a moment later. Not a chance.

“Babe, look,” you say handing Jamie your phone. “I’ve collected the whole set.”

Jamie reads your text thread then looks up at you in confusion. “What d’you mean?”

“Isaac is the only one who hasn’t like, threatened me or something if I hurt you,” you reply.

The tips of Jamie’s ears turn red. “What do you mean, the only one?” he asks. “Like, the team?”

You shake your head. “Oh no. I mean, yes, the whole team, but like pretty much everyone who works at Nelson Road.” 

Jamie’s eyes widen as you begin to list people on your fingers. “Alright, so obviously the Greyhounds, plus all the coaches, Keeley, Rebecca, Higgins, Trent, Samantha at the front desk, Gary, Phoebe and her mum, Will-” you pause. “Should I keep going?”

Jamie groans. “Fucking hell. I’m sorry. They’re all twats, except Phoebe. I swear, they’re not always like that. I’ll talk to them and make ‘em leave you alone.”

“No! You can’t let them know that you know! And…” you hesitate, “I thought it was kind of sweet. Like a green flag, you know? They all like you enough to make sure that you’ll be ok, and they want me to know I have something special. Of course, I already knew that,” you continue, “but it’s nice confirmation.” 

Oh. That’s new.

Jamie’s quiet for way too long so you look over at him. “Babe, are you crying?”

“No,” he says, choked up. “Face mask got in my fuckin’ eye.”

“It’s dried solid, babe.”

“Fine,” he says, “I might be a little. But you can’t tell anyone, especially not Ted, because then he’ll talk to me about feelings and shit, and I’d rather eat ten fucking scones than that.”

You laugh and snuggle into his side. There aren’t going to be any heartbreaks here, not if you can help it. You’re both planning on keeping the other around for the rest of your lives.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt

[lokis-army-77]

Dinner for Three

Demon!Eddie Munson x Human!female reader x Angel!Steve Harrington

Word Count: 2208

It's date night with two supernatural beings and before reader can eat dinner, she becomes the meal.

Warning: 18+ unprotected sex, double penetration, anal fingering, and sex (female receiving), p in v, threesome

Masterlist

Everyone knows that old saying that you have an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other. Well, some don't realize that it is a very true statement, at least for me. Either a blessing or a curse, I had somehow been granted the presence of two supernatural beings in the form of two of the hottest guys I'd ever had the pleasure of interacting with. 

At first, their presence were just whispers, helping me to make decisions. Then slowly, for unknown reasons, they began to manifest themselves in physical forms. I had met Steve at the grocery store one afternoon and soon after I met Eddie at a bar in town while I was out to drink with a couple of my friends. I kept running into them more and more until we eventually started to hang out separately. It wasn’t until I saw the both with one another in town that we started to hang out just the three of us.

Now, I had no intention of falling head over heels for these two, especially after they told me what they were, but here we were, on date night number three. We each sat at my small dining room table, Eddie was on my right, while Steve was on my left. I had barely gotten to take a sip of my wine when I felt soft and calloused fingers sipping up my legs and under the skirt of my dress. I tried pushing them away with my own hands, but they were back in an instant. 

“Can you two stop, I’m trying to enjoy this dinner?” I looked between both of them. 

Eddie just smiled his wicked grin as he massaged his fingers into the fat of my thigh. “How can I stop when you look so delicious? I may just skip straight to dessert.”

“That may be the best idea you’ve ever had Demon,” Steve answered, his own soft fingers traveling further up my leg. 

I gulped. Having the attention of both of them at the same time was overwhelming but somehow comforting at the same time. When both of them looked at me the way they were now, with sultry stares and tongues darting out to moisten their lips, it made butterflies flutter in my stomach and I struggled to deny myself the pleasure they could give me. 

I tried to ignore them, to pick up my fork and eat the pasta it had taken me so long to prepare. Yet, in the end, when Eddie leaned over and began nibbling on my earlobe, the metal utensil fell from my grasp and clattered onto the plate. Steve wasn’t that far behind and eventually, his lips kissing down the column of my neck had me whimpering. 

My legs squeezed together involuntarily. The two of them caught on quickly to the way they were starting to make me feel and quickly removed us from the table. Eddie stood up first, pulling me along with him. His hands were all over the skin of my arms which was exposed by my dress. 

“How you torment me so, little human. You could bring a god to his knees.” His lips attached themselves to mine. A moan caught in my throat as he kissed me so sinfully. 

Steve, practically crawled up my body, worshiping every curve and patch of skin. Slowly, he began to unzip the back of the dress, lips kissing my shoulder and down my back as he let the fabric fall, leaving my body bare. 

“Nothing underneath, you dirty little minx.” He smiled, hands filling up the curves of my ass. His hands travel up the length of my body and pull my face away from Eddie, pulling me in for his own kiss. 

I can hear Eddie groan as he takes both my breasts into his hands, squeezing them softly before latching onto the right one with an open mouth. I can't help but gasp out at the overwhelming feeling of both of them. 

“Want to ruin you, Pretty Girl.” Mumbles Eddie around my nipple. His fingers play with the left one for a while, pinching and pulling at it before his mouth and hand switch places. 

“Want to play with you, Darling. Give you something you’ve never experienced.” Steve whispers in my ear. 

I roll my head back onto his shoulder. “What do you want to give me?” I ask in a daze. 

Eddie takes that moment to pop off my nipple, rising to his full height and looking me dangerously in the eye. “The angel and I have talked and we would like for you to take both of us.” 

I look at each of them back and forth, “B-both? But I’ve never…” 

Eddie nods, reaching his hand up to cup my cheek, thumb rubbing over the skin soothingly. “We know. But with a slow pace and a bit of magic, I have no doubt you will be able to do it.” 

“He’s right, love. You can do it.” Steve is brushing the stray hairs away from my shoulder as he peppers kisses there. 

I gulp but ultimately I am not afraid. I have taken both of them separately before and in either entrance, the two of them should be no problem together. 

“O-okay.” I nod. “We can try.”

“Good.” They both speak at the same time. 

The next thing I know, Eddie is lifting my right leg up onto his hip. At a snap of his fingers, his clothes were gone. I could feel his hard cock poking into my thigh. 

Looking behind me, Steve too had no clothes on as his palms transverse my skin. Down, down, down he went before finally stopping and groping at the globes of my ass. 

Feeling them on me together was a new sort of high. My heart pounded in my chest as adrenaline poured through me. Each soft touch and firm grasp had my head spinning around and around. It was hard to focus on just one of them, so I closed my eyes trying to slow the spinning down. 

“You ready baby?” One of them asked. At this point, even their voices had melded together. 

I nodded my head anyway, ready for whatever they would throw at me. My body jostled a bit and then I felt the hard head of a cock being pressed along my slit. ‘Eddie,’ I thought, whimpering. He toyed his cock through my wetness, making sure to place pressure on my clit. 

Both Eddie and Steve laugh as my hips buck into him, searching for more. Eventually, he pushed his head into my entrance. He let out a loud guttural groan, filling the room, as I stretched around him. He felt amazing. 

“Fuck, yes.” I gasped, fingers gripping Eddies toned biceps, nails digging crescents into the skin. 

“Does demon cock feel good in your tight pussy, Darling?” Steve asks as he leans into my ear, licking up the shell. “Imagin how good it will be when I take your ass.” 

“Please, Stevie. Need you too.” My head lulls back onto his shoulder. 

“Patience baby, need to warm you up first. S’gonna be such a big stretch.” 

“I can take it,” I whine frantically, in need of as much pleasure as they could give me. 

Steve only hums. His hands massage my skin before a steady finger begins to circle the puckered hole. All the while, Eddie is slowly pumping into me at a torturing pace, he might as well have been standing still with how slow it was. 

“Take her other leg will you?” Steve asks over my head and Eddie obliges, taking my other leg my the thing and sliding it up. He was holding me now, cock hitting deeper as it seared into me.

My ass was spread wider and steve’s finger entered me. I arched my back, pushing against Eddie, at the intrusion. “Feels so good, Stevie.” I moan. 

And this is where magic entered. Normally it would take more than a few fluid pumps for his finger to stretch me out but as he started to push a second finger in, scissoring the two inside me, I knew something was aiding in the process. I didn’t mind though, as it felt amazing and had both my cunt and ass clenching in need. I worried my lip between my teeth and moaned breathlessly. 

“Look at you, taking my cock and his fingers. You’re such a good girl aren’t you?” Eddie coos. 

I have no words, mouth hanging open taking in sharp, quick breaths. It’s honestly a struggle to nod my head as an answer. 

Steve inserts a third finger and I cry out, clinging tightly to the demon holding me up. “More, more, more,” I mumble. There is a need bubbling up in my stomach and I can't begin to explain how much I need to be filled completely. 

“You heard her angel, she wants more.” Eddie snickers, hips snapping once, twice, into me harshly before going back to a slow pace. 

My back is pressed further into Steve’s chest and I whimper. Our combined body heat had me shaking. “You ready Darling?” He questions, fingers still working. 

I nod, biting my lip hard to keep my noises down but that failed when Steve replaced his fingers with his cock. Slowly but surely he pushed his fat length into me, stretching me around him impossibly far. 

A long drawn-out moan escaped from my lips. “Fuck, Steve.” Tears welled in my eyes as I was spread out and filled with the two biggest cocks I had ever taken. On their own, this would have felt great, but together? Together they touched every spot I needed and then some, making me feel like I had died and gone to heaven. 

Slowly, in tandem, the two men moved. I could feel every vein and ridge on them. It was quickly sending me over the edge. Sweat poured from my body, limbs staring and holes contracting as I was used between them. Eddie had my legs held over his forearms and his hands stretching my ass cheeks out to hold me up but to also clear Steve's way. Steve was holding my upper body up, as I had gone limp in their hold and would have fallen over if it wasn't for his strong arms wrapping around me, one hand cupping my breast and the other moving to lazily swipe at my clit. 

Stars began to appear in my blurry vision once they picked up the pace. They both fucked into me like it would be the last time they would ever do so. Eddie continuously pounded into my g-spot and with the added effort of Steve's fingers, and the fullness of both my ass and cunt, an orgasm was on its way. My whole body went ridged and my toes curled.

“I- I’m gonna. Ah! I’m gonna-” I cried, big blueberry tears of pleasure now falling down my face. 

“That’s it, Pretty girl. Give it all to us.” Eddie dives in pressing his lips to my open mouth, swallowing my moans and gasps. 

Steve hums in my ear, “You’re doing so well. Taking both of us so well. Fuck, you were really made to take both of us.”

I moan in response, fingers digging into the skin of Eddie's arms. Working me through my orgasm. They each began to grunt loudly. The sounds melded together perfectly, creating a musical experience in the room accompanied by the percussion of skin slapping skin. 

Their once fluid motions began to fall off when my holes continued to flutter around them, squeezing tightly. Each thrust became just a little more erratic, the rhythm no longer there. Now, they were each fucking me like they wanted, taking the last of what they needed before letting themselves fill me full. 

I cried out when Eddie’s hips came to a sudden stop deep within me. Soon something hot poured into my cunt and I know he was finished. Steve was close behind, rutting into my ass before letting out a strained gasp, cum shooting out, coating my walls. 

They stood there for a moment, breathing hard, holding me high in their arms. 

"God, you were amazing." They harmonized. I laughed, exhaustion taking over.

My body was pliant as they each pulled out, leaving my holes gapping and then clenching around nothing. An intense shudder rippled through me at the feeling. 

Eddie kept me in his arms and carefully carried me to my bedroom where Steve cleaned me up. I was so tired out that as I closed my eyes my hearing was going in and out. I could barely hear the whispers the two men were sharing. Whining, I reached out to them, and then suddenly I was hit with the warmth of each of them as they climbed in beside me and sandwiched me between them once more. 

"Did such a good job " praised Steve, fingers playing in my hair. 

"The best," Eddie confirmed, lips peppering small kisses up the side of my face. "Get some sleep, sweetheart, you've earned it."

I spoke not a word, only humming in a response to them before snuggling further into Steve's chest and falling asleep.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #female reader #demon!eddie #demon eddie munson #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #angel steve harrington #steddie x reader #steve harrington

[f1daydreamers]

𝐀 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨 [𝐋𝐒𝟏𝟖]

photo credits: Pinterest

Pairing: Lance Stroll x Fem!Reader

Summary: Asking the driver of the team you work for to attend a wedding with you as your fake date is possibly one of the dumbest ideas you’ve had ever.. but also one of the best.

Warnings: fluff, friends to lovers romance also fake dating trope so we’re going all in baby

A/N: I love this man, this man is very underrated and this is going to be a mini-series, probably 7/8 parts but we’ll see how it goes

Word Count: 1.7k (7 minutes reading time avg)

…

Lance oddly glances over your face, definitely dumbfounded by your ask.

Trying to persuade one of the two drivers for the team that you work for, that going as your pretend date to your brother’s wedding was quite possibly the weirdest favour you could ask of anyone.

You tilt your head, reasoning with him. “Whatever you need, I will do it and I’ll do it to the best of my ability.”

He hums, “I don’t need anything.”

You inhale through your nose, “I’ll wash your race suit and even bring it to the remaining.. 20 races."

With pursed lips, he appears untempted by your proposal.

“Okay, then I’ll do all your laundry, not just your race suit.” You say.

“There’re people in the team who do that anyway?” You sigh, leaning your elbows on the table.

“I’ll clean your driver’s room, after every practice session, after every qualifying, and after every race.”

He feigns offence, “my room is very neat for your information.”

You scoff, not wanting to but getting all the more closer to giving up.

“Then do this for me as a friend, you just said you had nothing to do between now and Baku anyway.” You countered, pointing an accusing finger at him.

Lance smiles slightly. “It’s a massive favour Y/N, I can’t just drop all my plans.”

You half-frowned, knowing he had a point. “Look, the moment I set my phone down, I know my mum would’ve been rounding up all the bachelors from here to Canada.”

He laughed and you smiled, though you were pretty sure your mum really was doing so.

“Have you asked anyone else?” He questioned, out of sheer curiosity on why you came to him first.

“No I haven’t, should I?”

“I don’t know.” His answer makes you groan, “one weekend Lance.”

There was a shift of emotion in his face and you jumped at the opportunity to try and make it as convincing for him as possible, “one or two photos, my dad loves racing so tell him about Bahrain. I have a nephew who’s into motorcycles so talk away about them.”

“With an 8 year old?” You blinked at him, “I admit the conversations may not be enthralling but toy motorcycles really get his gears turning.”

The F1 driver weighs out the pros and cons of your request, circling the rim of his glass with the tip of his index finger.

His eyes flicker to your pleading expression, your fingernails digging into the underside of your chin, your hands brought together in a praying gesture.

“Is a weekend with me going to be that horrible?” You inquire.

“No,” he admits, casually falling back on to his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “I was never going to say no, I just wanted to see how far you’d go.”

He grins cockily and you reach over to slap his arm which he manages to pull away from in time.

…

The few days after the Australian race, you'd been hammered by your parents and your siblings, on who the mystery boy was. It was pretty well known that they'd meet him at some point next weekend but that obviously wasn't reason enough for them to stop asking every question under the sun about him.

When the build to that weekend officially began, you prayed that it would pass smoothly, you'd tell a few little white lies along the way and should they ever ask about him following the wedding, you and Lance would've been peacefully broken up by then.

Easy.

"Oh gosh, here we go." You lower your head to your lap while Lance takes a single sip from his champagne glass, setting it down on the coaster.

You knew bumping into a relative who asked a million and one questions during the rehearsal would be a given so you'd prepared your 'date' as best you could.

You instinctively reach for his hand, settling the palm of yours on the back of his. He's slightly disconcerted at the contact but doesn't move an inch, he glances at you sat on the seat besides him as you do the same.

You release a shaky sigh, "my sister's going to interrogate you like she's trying to put the FBI to shame. You remember what I told you right?" You ask quietly.

He nods faintly, "yeah, of course I do." He assures you.

You muster a sincere smile before retracting your hand from his and allowing it to fall on to your lap again. You then rub your palms on your thighs and stand up to embrace her.

Lance straightened on his chair, allowing your sister to approach the table before he followed your movements. You swallow when his hand rests on your lower back, but you reminded yourself it was just a part of the act.

It was amusing in hindsight how you'd pleaded, borderline begged, for him to be your pretend boyfriend for a weekend but you hadn't actually thought about what that might necessitate.

"Hi!" Your sister was ever the bubbly one who could rave about her passions for days while remaining oblivious to the other person's lack of interest.

She flung her arms around your neck and brought you in for a hug, to which you chuckled and winded your arms around her back. Lance's hand fell to his side, his gaze falling to his feet.

Once you'd pulled away, she sighed happily then glanced at him expectantly. You cleared your throat and he swiftly turned his head towards you, then at her.

"Dais, this is Lance," you realise he probably needs no further introduction. "Lance, this is my sister, Daisy."

He gives her a genuine smile, taking her hand that she holds out as a formal introduction. "Is this the boyfriend I messaged you a million times about?"

You scoff with a smile, feeling his eyes fall to your face, as if he was watching for something. "Yep, in the flesh." He swallows, nodding.

She gasps, pointing a finger towards him and you panic for a moment, if there was a single hidden talent your sister had, it was putting two and two together at record speed.

Luckily, Lance remained unphased despite the stark contrast between yours and his tension levels.

"You're the F1 driver Dad was telling us about, the one with the broken wrists." She announced loudly, though it was only a surprise to her.

"That's my reputation I guess." He comments, turning his head to your side, directing it at you. You smile, continuing to fidget with your two intertwined hands.

But he confirms it nonetheless, "that's me."

"Wow, F1. Must be cool having the girl you date at the garage for every race." He gave her a polite smile, not knowing how to continue the conversation.

“It has its perks.” You agree with him, not vocally saying what those supposed perks were.

“What kind of perks?” Your sister asked craftily and you sigh, dismissing her question.

“Behave, now go and find Kev, we want to congratulate him.” As your baby sister, with a huff, she agreed and sauntered off elsewhere.

“She’s nice.” You hummed, turning your body to Lance’s so your back was facing the crowd of people that would occasionally glance in your direction.

“She’s one of many,” He smiled, seeing the deflation on your face form when you realised this was going to be a very long weekend of lying.

“Regretting it?” You meet his eyes, he meets yours. “No. Just wondering if it was the best decision.”

“One question less, 20 more in its place.” You chuckle knowing he was referring to the inevitable question on where your date was had you not brought one, but because you had, it was flipped on its head.. then multiplied.

“Should I apologise for bringing you here now?”

“How bad are they?” He asks.

“Enough.”

…

"I haven't seen anything about you two online, considering you're famous and all." Your words remained stuck in your throat as you scrambled to try and find an answer for it in your head, Lance chuckled a little nervously.

"We keep it on the down low, trying to navigate through a relationship while being in the spotlight has its own challenges." You looked up at him and gave him a sympathetic look, a doubtful smile on your lips.

You turned back to your mum who hummed, almost with a certain distaste in her tone, a sour look on her face which you really weren't in the mood for. She was never fond of the guys you 'picked' for yourself, but instead the male specimen she spoke to once were going to be your Prince Charming, God forbid you ever went against that.

"Look, me and Lance are a little jet-lagged so can we carry this on sometime else?" You gave her a pointed look and she took the hint, though not without shooting you a knowing glance.

"Well, your room's all ready for you at home." She says.

Home. You hadn't heard that word from your mother's lips for some time, having moved away and working everywhere in the world, it was rare you found time to go and see your family.

"Thanks mum." She kissed you on the cheek before walking away, ignoring Lance's existence entirely. Your shoulders slumped once her attention had turned towards your brother and his soon-to-be wife, whom you'd already congratulated.

He exhales through his nose and you lift your eyes up to his face, "Okay, getting slightly worse." You shake your head, your fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of your nose. At this point, you were wishing for the night to be over.

By the time the night is coming to its eventual end, you and Lance had managed to convince most people with your act of being a couple. That entailed a lot of hand-holding and lovesick smiles but you'd pulled it off, a little too well.

With his hand splayed out on your thigh, your hand was wrapped around his bicep. Along with every little gesture and movement, there was a fresh wave of goosebumps forming on your skin. You didn't think Lance knew that he was stroking his thumb along the fabric of your leggings.

"We should get some sleep," You turned your head to him and he looked down at you, his attention turning away from the current conversation your sister had everyone tuned into.

"Ready when you are." He added and minutes later, you and Lance were leaving the table, a few of your folks extending their fair shares of goodbyes and nice to meet you's to him.

...

Part 2

Masterlist

Comment if you want to be tagged in the next part!

#lance stroll #lance stroll imagine #lance stroll x reader #lance stroll x you #lance stroll fluff #lance stroll x y/n #lance stroll fic #lance stroll oneshot #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one fluff #formula one fanfiction #formula one fic #formula one oneshot #formula one x reader #formula one x y/n #formula one x you

[wintaerbaer]

things we don’t say: part 1 (kth)

banner credit goes to the absolutely incredible @itaeewon

summary: Three years after graduating college, everything seems to be falling into place for you: stable job, cozy apartment, and a long-term boyfriend with a ring box hidden in his desk drawer. But when a mutual friend makes a remark that your best friend of nearly two decades is clearly in love with you, you realize that life may not be as simple as it seems.

pairing: Taehyung x Reader (with some VERY brief Seokjin x Reader and Yoongi x Reader)

rating: 18+ (minors dni)

genres: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers (they’re so, SO stupid), slooooow burn, angst, fluff

word count: 8.4k

series warnings: swearing, sexual themes, one instance of mild violence, alcohol use, infidelity, brief mentions of neglectful parents and alcoholism

chapter warnings: potty mouths, oc teasingly threatens her friends, art world inaccuracies (probably, idk how art shows work), fns music festival dynamite performance taehyung (BLESSED), friends who can’t mind their own business, quick backstory on the aforementioned shitty parenting, oc needs (and has) a drink

a/n: so here is my first foray back into writing after being out of the game for several years! big shout outs to @itaeewon​ / @jeonqkooks​ for the banner and encouragement as well as @taegularities​ for giving me writing advice and letting me cry in her inbox every time i got frustrated with this. they’re also both INCREDIBLE writers so go show them some love once you’re done here!

 SERIES MASTERLIST // MASTERLIST

Read on ao3

“She was checking you out.”

“She was not checking me out.”

“Kim Taehyung, she was so checking you out!”

“No.”

“She tucked her hair behind her ear and gave you the ‘come hither’ head tilt.”

Taehyung makes a face. “No one says that anymore, and that’s a perfectly normal gesture to make in everyday conversation.”

“When you want to get someone’s pants off.”

He shushes you, eyes flicking over to the nearby tables in the mostly-empty dining room with all of its dim lights and dark wood paneling. The bar had been a go-to for you and your friends in college, boasting a wide variety of burgers, sandwiches, and wraps that could even satisfy Jungkook and his bottomless appetite. Though your visits have become fewer and farther in between after graduation, nostalgia occasionally drags you back for a lunch or round of late-night drinks, which is how you’ve wound up here on a bright Saturday afternoon.

“You should ask for her number.”

“I am not asking her for her num—!”

“Can I get you anything?”

Taehyung’s face turns bright red as the waitress materializes at the side of your table as if on cue. It’s subtle, but she bats her eyelashes at him, body angled in his direction as if you’re not even there. You raise an eyebrow at him from across the table. See?

“I think we’re ready to order,” you say, mostly to put Taehyung out of his misery as he wordlessly stammers at the blonde.

You’d think he’s never seen a girl before in his life.

The waitress jots your orders down before strolling away in the direction of the kitchen, and you’d swear she’s swinging her hips a little more dramatically than before. You turn towards Taehyung.

“Told you.”

“I said no,” he says sheepishly, cheeks still brushed with pink. “Besides, she looks like she’s probably still in college.”

“You look like you’re probably still in college.” Taehyung rolls his eyes. “And we’re not that old, Tae. You could date a college student.”

“Pass.”

You sigh, leaning back in your seat. “Fine, but we still need to find you a date to the wedding. Can’t let those youthful good looks go to waste.”

Taehyung huffs in faux annoyance, but his lips quirk up at the compliment. “I’m not bringing a date.”

“So you say, but I’m going to change your mind.”

His smile widens. “Oh, really?”

“Really.” You hold out a pinky, and he only hesitates a moment before linking his with yours.

“Okay, we’ll see.”

You fall into one of your usual conversation patterns as you ask about how his job is going. He tells you about the upcoming art show at the gallery where he works as a curator, doing some freelance photography as a side gig. He’d managed to snag Maya, one of the aforementioned friends, a spot in it, and he smiles as he gushes over how great her pieces turned out, cheeks lightly flushed with what you interpret as pride. The two of them met freshman year as photography majors and quickly developed into friends and partners, challenging each other artistically and now occasionally teaming up to shoot larger weddings and events.

It makes pride warm your own belly, seeing him flourish and succeed in the field he had always dreamed of. Photography had been an outlet for him throughout high school, a vital reprieve from the insulated struggles of your shared childhood. Taehyung has never been a negative person, never weighed down in spite of the home life which would have given him every justifiable reason to become jaded. Still, you’d watched a new light bloom in him after he discovered photography as if the camera lens truly gave him a fresh way of seeing the world.

And you’ve always loved seeing happiness spill from your best friend.

Your food is just being brought to the table when Jimin comes shuffling up in a zombie-like trance, eyes wide and mouth slack.

"Finally made i—woah, are you alright?"

Jimin drops into a seat, glazed eyes fixated on the window overlooking the street.

"Maya and Kook are hooking up."

Taehyung chokes on his drink, water spraying onto his plate, while your jaw hits the floor.

"They're what?!"

"What the fuck?!"

Jimin works his jaw before wiping his hands over his face, "Yup."

You and Taehyung gape at him.

"What in the name of God would make you say that?" you ask emphatically, just as Taehyung says, "They hate each other."

"I don't know. Probably because I just caught her straddling him on our couch half-naked. But it’s just a feeling."

"Oh my God, we don't need to know that!"

"Our couch?!"

Jimin scrubs a hand over his face again as if he could wipe the image from his brain. “Yeah, I…can’t say I’m entirely surprised, but, Jesus, I did not need to see that with my own two eyes.”

“Okay, wait, wait,” you say, blinking rapidly in a futile attempt to clear your thoughts. “You’re sure it was Maya—not another one of his random hook-ups?”

“You think I don’t know what she looks like?” Jimin asks, pulling a face. “Look, she stopped by to grab some camera equipment Tae left for her and said she was going to hang around for a minute to wait for an Uber. I was already late for here so I left, but I forgot my wallet. When I went back they were…compromised. And I didn’t exactly stick around to interrogate them.” He frowns again, turning to Taehyung. “Speaking of, can you cover me for lunch?”

“This is unreal. Fucking unreal,” you fume. “I’m going to kill them.”

“Is it really all that surprising?” Jimin asks. “Somewhere in all of their bickering and nagging and constant frowning at each other was always some thinly-veiled sexual tension.” When you glare at him, he adds, “Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t sleep with her.”

“That’s not the problem, Chim. You know how this shit goes.” You rub a thumb between your eyes, trying to ease the sudden tension there. “They already fight all the time, and sex only ever complicates things. How long until this blows up and we’re forced to choose sides?”

And that’s the crux of your worry—a disaster seems inevitable. Maya and Jungkook have always been clear about their bare tolerance of each other, seeing it as a necessary evil for the benefit of the rest of your friendships. And while their arguments and bickering have been relatively muted in recent years after you, Taehyung, and Jimin had put down a collective foot and told them you were tired of hearing their shit, you are not eager to see them test the fragile thread that links all of you.

You’ve dealt with enough instability regarding the people in your life; the last thing you need is more.

The waitress comes up to take Jimin’s order while Taehyung studies you as you press the heels of your palms to your eyes.

“Hey,” he says as the waitress walks off again, a hand sliding across the table in your direction but not quite making it there. “No one is getting divorced or anything. Just talk to Maya first. We really don’t even know what’s going on here.”

Jimin lets out a puff of air. “I do. He had his hand up her—” He shuts his mouth as both you and Taehyung shoot daggers at him.

After a moment, your fingers tap absent-mindedly over your phone. “Yeah, I guess I’ll talk to her tonight. We’re supposed to go dress shopping for the art show.”

“Gotta get something nice for Jace?” Jimin asks, wiggling an eyebrow. You smirk back at him.

“No, he can’t make it. Work has him putting in overtime like crazy for their annual convention in a few weeks.”

“How is he doing—Jace?” Taehyung asks. His tone is light, but as Jimin turns to look at him, he notices his hand on the table had closed into a fist.

“He’s good,” you say, the tension finally melting out of your face as your eyes light up. “He’s been incredibly upbeat lately, actually—more romantic even.” There’s a pause as you hesitate. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was going to…you know.” You wave faintly with your left hand.

Jimin’s eyes go wide. “You think he’s planning to pro—” You quickly press a finger over your lips, and Jimin slaps a hand to his thigh. “Fuck yes! About damn time. Hey,” he settles his face in his palm and stares off dreamily. “Can I be your maid of honor?” Then, when you giggle, “Don’t laugh. I would look great in a dress.”

“I’ll put you on the short list,” you say, turning towards your food as Jimin pumps a fist. “But no more talk about that. I’ve waited damn long enough and do not want to jinx it.”

Taehyung’s knuckles had gone white.

“It’s really none of your business,” Maya says, picking up a bright purple, thigh-length dress off the rack and holding it up to her shoulders. “How about this one?”

“Too short.” She puts it back. “And I beg to differ. When something stands to get between two of my best friends who I care about deeply, I think that makes it my business.” When Maya doesn’t say anything, still nonchalantly flipping through dresses, you press on. “You know this can’t end well, right? You’re adding sex to an already volatile relationship, and I don’t like the idea of the friend group having to split if and when the two of you implode.”

“First of all, we’re not your damn parents. Kook may be a walking man child, but the rest of us are mature adults. We’d figure it out,” Maya says. She holds up a green gown, frowns, and returns it. Turning towards you, she quirks an eyebrow. “Second of all, who says that this morning was the first time?”

Your jaw drops. As you stand speechless, Maya resumes her dress perusal.

“Wha—how long?” you finally choke out.

“Ooh, this is pretty.” Maya pulls out a deep red cocktail dress, silver roses adorning the fabric. Catching the look on your face, she says, “Two years, give or take.”

“Two—!” you squeak before shaking your head. “No. No fucking way. You two can barely be in the same room for two minutes let alone sleep together for two years.”

Maya smirks. “Turns out he can do much better things with his mouth when he’s not using it to talk out of his ass.”

“Maya, oh my God!”

“What? You wanted to make it your business, right?”

You take a breath to steady yourself. “Look, I am just worried about you guys, okay? That’s it. You’re two of my best friends, and I don’t want to see anyone get hurt. And I certainly don’t want to be put into a situation where I have to choose between you.”

“That won’t happen,” Maya says, trailing off towards a dressing room. “For someone to get hurt, there’d have to be actual feelings involved, and the only feeling he gives me is a migraine.” She slips into a changing stall while you lean against the wall, still trying to wrap your head around what you’re hearing.

“Besides,” Maya’s voice sounded from behind the curtain, “Jimin only found out because of his stupid wallet, and he notices everything. If we could fool him for that long with no problems…” She pulls the curtain back. The red fabric of the dress hugs her hips, her dark hair draped over one shoulder. “How do I look?”

“Gorgeous, as usual,” you say. And then, because you can’t help it, “I’m sure Kook will love it.”

Maya rolls her eyes. “Oh, please.” She steps back into the stall and yanks the curtain closed again. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“I’m sorry. It’s just…weird.”

“It’s only weird if you make it weird,” Maya says over the shuffling of clothes. “Nothing changed during the two years when you guys didn’t know and nothing has to change now.”

Maybe she’s right, you think to yourself, resting your head back and closing your eyes to the bright fluorescents above you. Maybe everything would be fine. Jungkook, in spite of his cocky playboy persona, may be a big teddy bear at heart, but you’ve never known him to mix emotions with pleasure. And Maya is certainly capable of handling herself.

Still, the whole thing just reeks of disaster waiting to happen.

The sun has just started its descent when the two of you step out of the shop, Maya now carrying a long white bag along with her. You pause for a moment, taking a slow inhale of the soft spring air. This is probably your favorite time of day, when the whole city is tinted gold, the push of the foot traffic slowing to a lazier pace as college students and businessmen alike meander their way to dinners and evening plans.

“Do you want to do dinner at my place?” Maya asks, starting to move in the direction of her apartment as you trail at her side. “I was planning on trying this new pot roast recipe, and I’d rather not get stuck with too many leftovers.”

“Ooh, that sounds good,” you say. “I’m in.”

“You just have to promise to stop looking so constipated.”

You let out a puff of a laugh. “I’m sorry—I really don’t mean to meddle.” You purse your lips. “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“I know, you said that already,” Maya sighs. “But we’re all grown-ups, Y/N. I know you mean well, but you’ve gotta loosen up the reins a little bit.”

“Whatever. As long as I don’t have to walk in on you guys like Jimin did.” You chew the inside of your cheek. “And just…be careful.”

Maya rolls her eyes for what feels like the hundredth time that day. She knows your heart is in a good place—the stereotypical “mom friend” just looking out for everyone—but your own blind spot drives her crazy.

You insist that you don’t truly mean to meddle. Maya, however, has no such qualms.

“You know,” she says, smirking at you with a sideways glance. “If you’re really worried about someone getting their heart broken, you should spend less time worrying about me and Kook and more time worrying about Tae.”

Your steps slow, frown lines gradually forming on your face. “Tae? What about Tae?” You pause. “He and Luna broke up months ago. He said he was over her.”

They were barely together a year, but the relationship had been the longest of Taehyung’s life. He’d spent the two weeks following the breakup locked in his room while you juggled both making sure he was alright and moving into a new apartment.

Maya gestures to the bag in her hands. “Don’t stop walking. This thing is a bitch to carry.”

As you jog a few steps to catch up, you ask, “Why? Did he say something to you?”

“Oh, please.” Another eyeroll. “He was never into Luna. It’s a wonder they even lasted as long as he did.”

“Then who?”

“C’mon, Y/N.”

“Maya, I genuinely have no fucking clue what you’re talking about.”

It’s Maya’s turn to stop in her tracks this time, passerby giving the two of you dirty looks as they swerve around you. She pins you with a pointed expression that has you blinking back at her. “What?”

Maya only continues to stare, tilting her head and biting her tongue until you finally put the pieces together. Your eyes going wide before you shake your head vigorously.

“No. No. You’re wrong.”

Maya scoffs and continues walking. “Uh-huh.”

“I’ve told you this before. We’re just comfortable with each other. He’s my—”

“Best friend who has made heart eyes at you the entire time I’ve known you two.”

“He does not. He looks at me like he’s always looked at me.”

“Exactly.”

“I—need I remind you that I’m in a committed relationship?”

“So? That doesn’t affect his feelings.”

“Tae has dated plenty of girls.”

“And with much success, obviously.”

You hesitate. “It’s not his fault that they all—”

“See how he looks at you and decide not to waste their time?”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Sure it is.”

“You’re misreading it. It’s just that we have history.”

“And chemistry. And while we’re rattling off school subjects the two of you share, I’m sure he’d be willing to help you with your physical education.”

“Maya.”

“I’m just saying!” She adjusts the bag, the plastic rustling the air. “I just got this sense that something, I don’t know, broke after Luna. I figured he finally realized how hung up on you he is or something, and that’s why he hasn’t dated since.”

The idea of a broken Taehyung squeezes your heart as your frown impossibly deepens. “That’s not…no. That’s definitely not what it was. He’s fine. We’re fine. Everything is fine.”

“Okay. Fine. If you say so.”

The two of you fall into silence, the light crackle of Maya’s bag hanging delicately between you. The sun is starting to dip behind buildings now, stretching long shadows onto the ground in front of you as you turn onto her block. You inhale a long, shaky breath.

Yes, it’s been a while since Taehyung has dated, and yes, this is a little peculiar. He may be your best friend,  but part of that means you’ve watched him grow from awkward kid to gangly teenager to one of the most handsome men you’ve ever laid eyes on. You’re not blind—you’ve seen how it’s unsurprisingly garnered him a good deal of female attention throughout the years (Saturday afternoon was not the first time he’s been hit on by a waitress). And while he’s never been anywhere near Jungkook’s level of playboy, he’s definitely been on his fair share of dates.

You don’t doubt that Maya’s noticed something of a shift in him—after you, she’s probably the person who knows him best. But both you and Taehyung have always insisted that your platonic relationship is, well, entirely platonic. So even if something changed for him, she has to be off base as to the why.

Right?

“Maya—”

“Look, I’m not telling you to sleep with him or leave Jace or anything like that. Just…” Maya purses her lips together, blowing air out of her nose. “Step back and look at what you’re doing to him before you lecture the rest of us. The guy is crazy about you, and you’re the only one who doesn’t see it.”

Well.

Shit.

She climbs the steps to her front door, slipping in the key and opening it before turning back to where you remain at the bottom of the stoop fiddling with your purse strap.

“You coming?”

“Um,” you hesitate. Your eyes drift off down the street, mind suddenly racing . “I don’t know. I’m not really hungry anymore.”

Maya’s expression softens. “I didn’t mean to upset you…”

“No, no,” you say with another shake of your head.  “I’m not mad. I just think I want to go home, maybe take a bath.”

“Okay,” Maya slowly responds. “I’ll see you at the show Friday night?”

You smile. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

Perhaps, Maya muses as she watches you saunter down the sidewalk, calling you out was not the right move. But the thought only lingers for a moment before she turns with a shrug and goes inside.

It’s Sunday night when you find yourself at the guys’ apartment for your and Taehyung’s weekly meal prep tradition. The ritual is the evolution of several years of having to care for yourselves—a need to eat turned into a sacred bonding activity for two people who had learned to rely on each other.

You and Taehyung met when you were eight-years-old after your teacher had fatefully situated your desks next to each other on the first day of school. A compliment from Taehyung on the color of your pencil case (a bright and bold turquoise) turned into a fast friendship that rapidly deepened as you realized just how similar you were: both only children living in homes with parents who were neglectful in their own ways.

In spite of growing up in a lavish, sparkling house with more rooms than you could count, your childhood was a struggle as your endlessly-busy, high-powered-lawyer parents virtually ignored your existence and left you to your own devices, working late hours every day and oftentimes not even ensuring that you had been properly fed. The mansion had felt like a prison, long hallways and tall ceilings devoid of life, filled with nothing but a terrible sense of loneliness.

That was, at least, until Taehyung showed up.

When either of you had a bad day (which was, admittedly, most days), he would slip away from the tiny, one-bedroom house on the poorer side of town, where his mother had abandoned him to an alcoholic father, and you'd sneak him in the back door (your parents either never noticed or simply didn't care). The two of you would raid the kitchen cabinets for snacks and lug your loot up to your bedroom, where you'd throw together a giant fort made of pillows and blankets with your prized possession at the center—a small globe light with tiny cut-out stars.

You never really talked about your respective situations—there was never really a need to. He saw your non-relationship with your parents firsthand, and you had heard the rumors about his family—whispers at school about the boy with secondhand clothes and a dad who often had to be dragged out of the local bars. The outside world may have been cruel, passing judgment on the both of you (and Taehyung especially) for circumstances outside of your control, but in the comfort of your room, even that fostered your kinship. It was like your own minuscule universe, belonging only to the two of you, and as you munched on your popcorn and watched the soft stars dance across the propped-up fabric, you'd talk and tell each other stories. Stories about anything from kings and queens to pirates to cowboys to astronauts. The only rule was that every tale had to have a happy ending.

As you got older, you traded your storytelling nights for evenings experimenting in the kitchen, sick of gorging yourselves on chips, pretzels, and sodas. Occasionally, once Taehyung purchased his first camera from a secondhand shop with money he saved delivering newspapers, he'd drag you around town for a photoshoot. You’d wander the streets together, helping him to scout out areas for inspiration, and he’d use you as his model to practice portraits and photographing human subjects. This tradition, too, had faded once the two of you escaped your hometown to go to college (you're not sure your parents even realized you had left), as Taehyung began working on class projects with Maya and you started spending more time with Jace. Only your weekly meal prep had persisted.

Your cooking had been a staple during college, you and Taehyung hosting “family dinners” for you and your friends on weekends (usually followed by a good few rounds of drinks), eventually shifting into you making batch meals on Sundays once you’d all graduated and begun working. That was when it had been you who’d lived in this apartment, back before you’d moved in with Jace and Jungkook had taken your place here. Still, even as lifestyles and living arrangements changed, you always wound up cooking with Taehyung on Sunday nights.

“What are mom and dad making tonight?” Jimin trills, reaching over the counter to take a swipe at a baby carrot. You shoo his hand away.

“Nothing, if you keep stealing our ingredients. Aren’t you supposed to be going to the gym?”

“I am, but someone,” he turns to yell over his shoulder, “is taking their sweet ass time getting ready!”

A door clicks open down the hall before Jungkook’s voice yells out, “Calm down, asshole, I’m almost done!” The door slams shut again.

“Such a diva,” Jimin huffs, gaining an edge to pop a carrot into his mouth. You let out a cry of protest.

“Chim, cut it out!” You turn to Taehyung who is at the opposite counter with his back to you, chopping more vegetables. “Tae, stop him.”

Taehyung snorts, not turning around. “That’s my job?”

“You have a knife.”

“Sorry, I’ve taken a vow of nonviolence.”

“Unbelievable,” you mutter as Jimin tries to reach around you again. “Hands off, Park, or I swear to God I will kick you in the balls, and you will not see it coming.”

“Guy’s gotta get some action somehow, am I right?” Jungkook comes striding down the hallway in a tank top and shorts, looking more like he’s ready for a magazine cover shoot than a gym visit as he bounds up to where you and Jimin stand in the kitchen.

“Hey, I get plenty of action!”

“You were literally whining this morning that it’s been three months.”

Jimin flushes. “That’s because I don’t sleep with my friends.”

“Neither do I,” Jungkook says, throwing a wink in your direction as you roll your eyes back at him.

“You’re disgusting. It’s a wonder Maya puts up with you.”

“It’s definitely more of a puts out situation.” He taps his chin thoughtfully. “And not really up? Contrary to what you might expect, she’s usually under—“

“Jeon Jungkook.” Then, when he makes a move to grab a carrot, you turn to Taehyung and snap, “Tae, give me a knife, I’ll stab them myself.”

Barely looking up, he reaches over to grab a knife out of the block, twisting it in his hands to hold it delicately by the blade and offer it to you handle-first. You grip it, only to slam the knife down firmly on its side in front of you, staring down Jimin and Jungkook in a silent challenge. But Jimin merely quirks an eyebrow in silent laughter, while Jungkook lets out a teasing, “Hot.”

You glare and raise the knife to chest level, pointing it at his sternum and trying to muster as much threatening energy as you possibly can in the face of a guy who could bench press you in his sleep. And while his facial expression remains one of passive amusement, he raises his hands in mock surrender and says, "Fine, fine, we're going."

With a sweep of their gym bags, they make their way out, and there's one last, "Save some for us!" from Jimin before the door swings shut behind them.

You sigh. "Idiots."

"But they're our idiots," Taehyung says, and a glance over your shoulder tells you that he's laughing at your frustration, a smile brightening his features and warming your chest.

"Remind me why we adopted them again?"

"You instantly fell for Jimin's puppy dog eyes when he was wandering around lost at orientation, and Kook..." He trails off. "Why did we adopt Kook?"

"School administration made you dorm with him, and we haven't been able to get rid of him since?"

"Oh yeah, that's right."

You fall into a comfortable silence, the only sound being that of your respective knives hitting the cutting board before Taehyung speaks up again.

"Speaking of Kook, you never told me how your conversation with Maya went."

You're thankful you have your back to him because you immediately feel yourself flush, heat shooting up your neck like an erupting volcano. You want to say, Yeah, it went great. She told me that you're desperately in love with me, and I'm the reason why none of your relationships have worked out. But that's ridiculous, right? Right?!

Instead, you do your best to mask your expression into one of relative impassivity and say, “Well, according to her, this isn’t new. They’ve been doing this for two years.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish.”

Taehyung ignores that. “How did none of us ever notice?”

“That’s what I can’t figure out. You’d think we would’ve noticed a change or something, right?”

He’s quiet, and you glance over to see him staring at a distant point out the window, lost in thought, the heel of the knife absentmindedly tapping a beat against the board. Taehyung’s always been introspective—content to sit in contemplation as he slowly works an idea through his mind. He’s thoughtful like that, ever the deliberator and rarely one to act on impulse. You balance each other out in this regard, with you having always been more inclined to break rules as you see fit and Taehyung being there to reel you in as needed.

“Maybe it works for them,” he finally says, and you feel your eyebrows shoot halfway up your forehead.

“You can’t seriously think this is a good idea.”

He shrugs, attention drawn back to the vegetables in front of him. “It hasn’t caused a problem yet, right?”

“The operative word there being yet.”

He shrugs again, brows tilting together. “I’m just saying that they’re both consenting adults, and if it’s gone this long without any catastrophes, maybe it really is a good arrangement for both of them.”

“It’s Maya and Kook. They’re always a catastrophe.”

“Exactly. They’d probably have an eventual falling out even if they weren’t sleeping together, so who knows? Maybe it actually helps them work some of that tension off.”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

“I didn’t say it was healthy.” He finishes chopping his last onion and sets his knife down, crossing the kitchen to check your own progress. Reaching over you, he grabs a piece of carrot and slips it into his mouth, grinning when you frown at him. “Really, Y/N, what can you do?”

“I know, but they’re…they’re the closest thing to family that we have. You know that.”

“Families can be dysfunctional. We both know that.” He munches on another carrot. “I’d still take them over my biological family any day.”

When that still doesn’t seem to entirely placate you, he reaches out to squeeze your shoulder, the tips of his fingers brushing the base of your neck and raising goosebumps there, before he slides his hand down to loop your pinkies together. “What will happen will happen. Don’t let it worry you unnecessarily.” Then he’s off heating up oil on the stove.

Normally, the brief touch would have barely registered in your mind—a simple gesture you had gotten into the habit of using when you were kids to provide reassurance. But it’s like your conversation with Maya has been inked under your skin, recoloring your perspective on the single-most steadfast relationship you’ve ever had in your life.

You hate it.

The oil begins to bubble on the stove, but Taehyung is distracted, rummaging around the refrigerator for something, so you take over, dumping in the beef that will help form the base for the soup. You throw in some seasoning, poking at the meat with a spoon and willing it to brown.

“So you’re really not interested in dating again?”

The words slip out, and the contents of the pot pop angrily at you.

Yeah, you might regret this later.

“Hmm?” Taehyung closes the fridge, cracking open the beer that’s now in his hand.

You curse your loose tongue under your breath. “Just…the other day at lunch. You were so against asking that waitress for her number.”

“She wasn’t my type.”

“And you don’t want to bring a date to the wedding.”

“I’d only bring a long-term girlfriend to a wedding. Less of a chance we’d have to edit her out of pictures later.”

“And how many dates have you been on since Luna? It’s been what, almost a full year?”

His brow scrunches, and the way he’s studying you makes you blush. “Why the sudden interest in my love life?”

You stare determinedly into the soup pot, trying to look nonchalant. “You’re my best friend, and I want to see you happy. Of course I’m interested.”

He props his hip against the counter in thought and takes a long drag of beer before he answers you. “I thought after Luna that it would be best if I take some time to focus on myself before diving back in. That’s all.”

“She really did a number on you, huh?”

“Something like that.”

You poke at the beginnings of your soup, memories of an absolutely miserable Taehyung surfacing in your mind. “It sucked, you know.”

“What?”

“Seeing your heart break.”

“Ah.” He takes another drink. “Right.”

“I swear, if I saw her again, I’d be tempted to kick her ass.”

He chuckles at that, and it rumbles his entire chest.

It might stir something in yours, too.

“I mean it, Tae.”

“Oh, trust me, I know you do.”

“Could be anywhere: club, grocery store. I’m not afraid to throw hands.”

He gives a tilt of his head. “She was a third degree black belt.”

“Well I kicked that Kenji kid in the groin during recess after he stole your backpack, and he cried for like twenty minutes. Remember that? He was practically six feet tall in the fifth grade, and that didn’t stop me. First degree black belt my ass.”

“Third degree.”

“Whatever.”

“Well as much as I appreciate your determined defense of my pride, I can assure you any emotional distress I suffered was minimal—“

“You haven’t dated since!”

“—and is definitely not worth putting yourself in the hospital over.”

“You don’t miss it though? What about like…” You trail off, cursing your stupid mouth getting ahead of your brain. You’ve never really talked about this before. Relationships, sure, but when it comes to the physical, along with your families, it’s one of the few subjects you avoid.

As your pause stretches on, he raises his eyebrows in question, and you decide to just come out with it.

“What about sex?”

Taehyung, to his credit, is unfazed by your sudden mention of the taboo. “I still have two hands, and they haven’t failed me so far.”

“Oh, Tae, ew.”

He grins devilishly at you, mischief brightening his eyes. It’s a look that he used to wear all the time when you were kids but which became rarer once he mellowed out with adulthood.

Seeing it on him now makes your heart jump.

“Point taken, forget I asked,” you say, and he laughs.

“Really, I’m fine with taking a break from dating for now. Isn’t that what that band you love is always preaching? Self-love and all that.”

You huff out a breath, nodding at his hands. “You don’t say.��

He laughs again, grinning down at you, and the uncertainty you’ve been feeling bubbles up again, your nerves sparking in time with a particularly loud crackle from the pot on the stove.

“Ah, geez, don’t let it burn,” he says, nudging you out of the way to take over. You take the opportunity to wander over to the fridge for a water bottle, feeling the need to cool yourself down. Honestly, what is wrong with you?

Taehyung, in sync with your moods by now, reads you like a book. “I feel like I should be asking you if you’re okay.” He says as he sets the meat aside and begins simmering the mirepoix in the fat. “You seem distracted.”

The conversation has become too much for you to wrestle with at this point, and you feel the need to shut it down before it gets out of control entirely. So you swallow down your anxieties like a pill without water and deflect.

“There’s just…a lot going on right now.”

It’s almost imperceptible, possibly a trick of the light, but his back stiffens ever so slightly. “Hmm, I’m sure.” He looks up at you from the stove, eyes pinning you where you stand. “But you’d tell me if there were something?”

You swallow. “Of course. You?”

“Of course.”

And that has to be enough for now.

The glow of the sunset creeps into your room as you put the finishing touches on your make-up for the night. You're running later than anticipated as you had hoped to catch Jace before you left—you know he has a virtual client meeting scheduled in fifteen minutes that he had planned to attend from home, but he texted you a half-hour ago saying that he got caught up at the office and might just take it there.

With your make-up done, you can't justify lingering any longer and decide to just leave him a note letting him know when you'll be back. Jace's desk is an absolute mess, but you're thankfully able to locate a notepad easily. A pen, however, is a different matter, and it's not long before you're rummaging through the drawers trying to find anything to write with. For a man who keeps his appearance so well-groomed, he has a true affinity for clutter, and you roll your eyes at the junk you have to sift through in search of a simple writing utensil: a hammer, old movie tickets, a broken picture frame, a ring box...

A ring box?

You pause, fingers hovering over the black velvet. Surely, you shouldn't look, right? You already feel like you're crossing some line by discovering the small box—you should preserve some element of surprise for both of your sakes.

Still, the devil on your shoulder whispers to sneak a peek...

Your decision is made for you as you hear the front door click open and shut, and you hastily close the drawer and try to school your features into something casual.

"Hey, gorgeous."

Jace leans in the doorway grinning, not a single sandy brown hair out of place and his impeccably-ironed dress shirt pulled tight across his toned chest. In a fraction of a second, you see his eyes flick from his desk drawer to where you stand stiffly in front of it.

"Hey!" The word comes out a little too loudly, and you rush to cover up the blunder. "I thought I wouldn't see you."

"Wanted to surprise my girl," he says, smile brightening as he swings a hand from behind his back to offer you a single red rose. You feel your cheeks heating up as you take it from him, marveling at how—even four years down the line—he can still manage to charm you.

He presses a kiss to your mouth, hands trailing down the back of your dress to palm your ass with a groan. "Fuck. Can't believe I have this work meeting when you look like this."

"And unfortunately, I need to get going, too, or Maya will have my head." You lean in for another quick peck. "Rain check for later?"

He chuckles, letting you go with one final squeeze. "I'll hold you to that."

"Look who finally showed up!" is what you're greeted with when you locate your friends in the gallery atrium, dodging the other patrons milling about.

"Sorry, got caught up with Jace," you say, shrugging at Maya's teasing glare.

Jungkook winks at you. "I'm sure you did."

"Yah, Kook, don't be gross," Jimin complains, slapping him on the arm.

"What?! She looks great! Right, Tae? Tell her she looks great."

You meet Taehyung's eyes for the first time since you walked up, and he shifts on his feet, gaze darting down to the accentuated curve of your hips. Clearing his throat, he smiles and says, "You look beautiful."

Cheeks hot, you murmur a quiet, "Thanks," so distracted by the awkwardness of the moment that you don't notice the look exchanged by Jimin and Maya between you.

Friends can call friends beautiful and not have it mean anything beyond that, right? You told Maya she looked gorgeous when she bought her dress with you last weekend, and you’d definitely be willing to admit that Taehyung looks incredible tonight. His navy blue suit hugs the lines of his body perfectly—highlighting his tall, lithe form—while his hair is combed up and off his forehead in a style that projects both professionalism and approachability. Combine that with the easy smile he keeps on his face, and he’s basically in male model territory.

You’ll be stunned if he doesn’t get hit on again tonight.

You make some idle small talk with your friends for a few minutes (Jungkook is trying to convince the others to head over to the bar where he works after the reception) before Maya gently nudges you with an elbow.

"Go and have a look around. Mine are back there," she declares, nodding her head towards the right hand corner of the exhibit, "but you should really check out all of the work—there's some good stuff. Hoseok and Sunny are around somewhere too."

You nod, welcoming the chance to see what it is your friends have been working so hard on, and excuse yourself to peruse the gallery. You may not be much of a creative mind yourself, but years of friendship with Taehyung and his infectious enthusiasm have at least helped you develop an appreciation for art. Weaving between the walls of frames and canvases, you stop here and there as a piece catches your eye: dark bars slashed across a messy outline of a heart titled Fake Love; a small boy offering up a waffle cone that holds a rose instead of ice cream—For You.

However, you find yourself slowing down entirely when you get to Maya's collection of photographs. They're mostly black and white candids of strangers. A woman shopping in an outdoor market. A girl chasing a dog in a park. Your friends pop up occasionally, and you smile at one of the memories you recognize: Jungkook pushing Jimin into the pool during your friendcation last year, bunny smile stretched wide across his face.

And suddenly you're frozen by a photo that's in full color.

It's Taehyung's face in close-up, his head turned to the side as he looks at something out of frame. His jaw strikes a downward line, mouth ever so slightly dipped open in something akin to wonder and tan cheeks curving with subtle delight. It's his eyes you can't look away from, though, opened wide enough to soak in whatever he's looking at that they reflect the golden lights around him, tiny galaxies swimming in his irises.

"Enjoying the view?" a deep voice teases at your shoulder, the man himself coming to stand at your side.

"That's an incredible picture of you," you tell him, still taking it in.

He hums in agreement. "I told you, she did a good job."

"Was that last summer?"

"Yeah." He nods his head at the picture of Jimin and Jungkook. "Same night as that, I think."

"What were you looking at?"

Taehyung is quiet as he thinks, scratching lightly at his nose. "I can't say I remember. Probably Hoseok walking out with that plate of pork belly. That was mouth-watering."

You laugh, and he smiles back at you before gesturing at the rows of artwork. "Can I show you some of my favorites?"

"I'd love that."

You let him drag you away, but not before glancing back to read the title card delicately placed next to Taehyung's image.

Your eyes tell.

Taehyung navigates you around the exhibit for a while, describing his role in organizing the gallery and stopping to gush about his favorite pieces. You've always loved hearing him talk about art, his passion for the subject illuminating his face as he enthuses about light and shadows and colors.

He's explaining the rule of thirds to you when Maya interrupts, telling Taehyung she has a potential client for him that she wants him to meet. He promises to find you later as she whisks him away, and, alone again, you decide to head to the adjoining reception area in search of your other friends.

You’re only a few steps into the room when you hear a voice call out your name, Jimin flagging you down from where he stands at a table with Jungkook, Hoseok, and Sunny, and you quickly slide up to hug the latter two.

“You guys made it! We’ve missed you. How’s wedding planning going?”

Hoseok groans into his champagne. “Please do not remind me,” he grumbles. “It makes med school feel like a cakewalk.”

“What my wonderful fiancé meant to say,” Sunny says, playfully elbowing Hoseok in the side and making him sputter on his drink, “is that it’s going fantastically, and we can’t wait to celebrate with you all.”

“Rumor is that it’s the can’t-miss event of the year,” Jimin singsongs. “And Kook and I are bringing the party!” He reaches over so he and Jungkook can share a short but excessively elaborate handshake.

Sunny looks on, amused. “Speaking of, do you two know if you’re bringing dates? We don’t have to finalize headcount quite yet, but knowing sooner rather than later would be appreciated.”

“I will definitely be going stag, but I think Kook might have one, yeah?” Jimin’s voice is teasing, but Jungkook doesn’t catch on, throwing him a quizzical look and causing Jimin to clarify with a smirk. “Maya.”

Jungkook scoffs, muttering, “Not a chance,” while Hoseok’s and Sunny’s eyebrows shoot up in sync.

“You and Maya are dating now?” Sunny asks, eyes wide.

Jungkook tosses Jimin a glare. “No, he’s being an ass.”

When Sunny and Hoseok continue to look confused, glancing back and forth between Jungkook and Jimin, Jimin explains, "We found out recently—and unpleasantly for me, might I add—that Maya and Kook here have been engaging in some activities with, ah, no strings?"

Hoseok's eyebrows go impossibly higher, threatening to meld with his hairline, as his mouth pops open in surprise. "Uhh...congrats?"

Jungkook shakes his head, bottom lip jutting out like a child. "Chim's just jealous because he's in a drought."

"Hey!"

"I, for one, don't see an issue," Sunny says, hopping in to play peacemaker before Jimin and Jungkook devolve into one of their notorious bickering sessions. "You're both adults. And don't sweat it, Jimin, any girl would be lucky to have you."

"What's that supposed to mea—" Hoseok starts to ask before Sunny shuts him up with a finger to his lips, subtly nodding her head at the clearly placated men.

"I just can't believe you two are finally getting married." You change the subject, snatching up a flute of champagne off a tray as a waiter walks by. "Been a long time coming."

Sunny hums. "To be honest, I'm surprised we're beating you and Jace to the alter," she says, and now it's your turn to cough on your drink. "When is that happening?"

"Oh, I, um—" you stutter, as you weigh how much you should say. You should keep what you saw earlier a secret, right? After all, what if you're wrong and you come out looking like a fool?

But four pairs of eyes are now fixed on you expectantly, and these are your friends so you cave.

"Okay, I am swearing all of you to secrecy," you say, making deliberate eye contact with each of them in turn to emphasize your point, "but I literally found a ring box in his desk earlier when I was getting ready to come here."

The table erupts in your friends' squeals and cheers, Jimin and Jungkook coming around to playfully shake your shoulders.

"Oh my gosh, I knew it!"

"That's amazing news!"

"I want to be man of honor!"

"I already called dibs!"

"What are we calling dibs on?"

Your heart skips as Taehyung joins your table, smiling at the five of you but obviously perplexed as to what the ruckus is about. And maybe you're imagining it, but your friends all seem to quiet down at his appearance as well, causing Maya's words to once again echo in your mind. The guy is crazy about you, and you're the only one who doesn't see it.

An awkward silence drapes itself over the table, Jimin being the one to pipe up when Taehyung's expression begins to morph from curious to concerned. "Y/N, tell him the good news!"

At that, Taehyung's brown eyes settle on you, and so you take a deep breath and spill. "I found a ring box in Jace's desk."

You're looking at him intently, and it's only the tiniest sliver of a second, but you see it. Unmistakably.

His face drops.

If Maya's photo captured stars in his eyes, you watch each go out one-by-one, his lips pressing together like he's trying not to be sick. A heaviness hits his shoulders that has his chest curling inwards and you almost reaching out to him...

And just like that—all at once—he's gathered his features into a smile and beams at you.

"That's fantastic, Y/N. I'm so incredibly happy for you."

His voice sounds genuine, dripping in the baritone honey that is so warm and so him, but you know what you saw—you're sure of it—and it has your mind spinning.

Shit, shit, shit, she was right.

You down your champagne in one gulp, oblivious to the shocked faces around you as you throw it back and thump the glass harshly on the table. "I'm going for a drink. Anyone want anything?"

You barely give them time to shake their heads before you're scurrying away to the bar and ordering a cosmopolitan—strong. Thoughts whirring, you try to make sense of Taehyung’s crestfallen expression as the bartender mixes your drink. There surely must be an alternate explanation, right? Until now, Taehyung has never, ever given any indication that he has feelings for you. This must be a mistake; you must be seeing things…

But just as the bartender slides your glass across the countertop, you glance back at the table, blood running cold as you find Taehyung already looking at you. He gives you a tight-lipped smile that doesn’t quite make it to his eyes before turning back to listen to whatever Jimin is currently saying.

You quickly down your second drink of the night and order a third.

NEXT

a/n: and we’re off! likes, reblogs, comments, asks, feedback, constructive criticism, and carrier pigeons are all appreciated! this started off as a story with all OCs, and the first drafts of some of these scenes were originally written in third person omniscient so please forgive me if the POVs are a little all over the place in this chapter. it’ll be rectified moving forward!

taglist open: just message or reply 😊

#taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #taehyung imagines #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #taehyung #bts fic #bts fanfic

[luveline]

bribery and a movie | steve harrington x mayfield!reader

summary Steve wants a date with Max’s older sibling. You want Max to be happy. It doesn’t hurt that he’s good looking. [3k]

warnings fluff, first date, steve is a pining mess, mutual pining, max is a baby angel sweetheart that deserves the world, gn!reader, mayfield!reader, mentions of domestic violence not graphic, pre-s4, some s4 spoilers, requested here

<3

“Bribery is a felony,” Max says, looking up at Steve with her solemn eyes.

Steve leans against the store window behind him. Family Video glows red, painting the young girl in neon crimson, her auburn hair aflame. He knows she’s playing hardball — there has to be something a sixteen year old girl wants enough to accept a bribe, even if that bribe is to secure a date with Max’s hot older sibling.

Steve tries to be very patient. If he gets hysterical Max will react with sarcasm and ridicule, and Steve will lose.

“There has to be something you want.”

“Enough to serve up my sibling like a piece of meat? Classy.”

“Not serving up! I just want a date. One date. Or a phone number, I’m not picky.”

“Y/N isn’t interested in boys.”

“At all, or just me?”

Max, sitting on the hood of Steve’s car with her skateboard across her knees, grins. “Just you.”

“And they said this to you?” he asks incredulously.

“In a way,” Max says.

He’s quickly at the end of his rope, tipping his head back, mouth open in indignation. “You’re hurting my feelings.” He scrubs a hand over his face and then presses his hands together pleadingly. “I would be a perfect gentleman. Dinner, a movie, that’s it.”

“And then a quick soiree at Skull Rock.”

“No!” Steve shouts. After smiling at a startled customer on their way out of the store, he says, “No, of course not.”

Max looks unconvinced. She hops down off of the hood and sets her board on the ground with more kindness than she’s ever shown him, one foot on like she’s about to push off. Steve feels it for what it is.

A vague threat to up his bribe.

“There has to be something you want, Mayfield.”

“For you to stop propositioning my sibling via me? I’m not their pimp.”

“I’m not propositioning. Just asking you to ask them if they may or may not be interested in me.”

He’d do it himself if he could talk to you without pissing his pants.

Max sighs, kicking the skateboard up into her waiting hands. She’s wearing her new jacket, blue with yellow accents, and it turns purple in the store's light. It’s getting late. She shouldn’t be skating around in the dark.

“Look, get in. I’ll drive you home,” he says, feeling dejected at being nowhere closer to a date.

Max hesitates and tilts her head, messy red braids falling to one side. “Shit,” she says under her breath. “Fine, I’ll ask them for you. I know you’re a good guy deep down, Steve. Deep, deep down.” Her voice is smooth as silk, her mouth open in a sympathetic smile. “And who knows, maybe they’ll find you inexplicably attractive. A beat up 733i, a steady job at Family Video, no college degree, no opportunities-“

“What the hell, Max?” he asks, scowling. He can’t believe he almost fell for her sarcasm. Again. A year ago he would’ve ruffled her hair. Instead, he pushes up off the window with a groan. “You're a little shit, you know that?”

Max smiles saccharine sweet and nods.

He rubs his forehead with the back of his hand and fishes for his keys in his pocket. “Alright, get in the car before I change my mind.”

“Y/N’s coming to get me.”

Steve thinks he might have gone a bit deaf for a second or five. “Here? Y/N’s coming here? To Family Video?”

“That’s what I said.”

Sure enough, what can’t have been ten seconds later your car turns a corner and there you are through the window, beautiful and radiant and so out of Steve’s league he forgets to breathe, even from the side. You roll down the window and turn. He chokes.

“Hey, Maxie,” you call brightly, arm crossed over the open window.

Steve sees the way Max’s face lights up even though she tries to hide it.

“Hey, Steve,” you add. “Family Video? Nice.”

“H-hey, Y/N.”

Max looks between the two of you, disgusted, walking to the trunk to throw in her board. She drags her feet like listening to your interaction is torturing her.

“How’s it going?” you ask pleasantly.

Steve feels like he’s shrinking under your gaze, obsessed with your hair and your skin and the way your eyes are basically sparkling in the evening dark.

“It’s going,” he says, voice high. He coughs. “Yeah, definitely going. How are you doing?”

“Oh, you know. We’re okay. I got a new job with my mom at the diner. I look killer in the uniform,” you tell him with a cheeky smile.

“I bet you do,” he says.

You laugh quietly. “Yeah, I’m the bell of the ball in that place.”

Max opens the passenger door. You give Steve an intoxicating smile. “Nice to see you!” you call, rolling up the window.

It’s firmly closed by the time he’s managed to reply. “Nice to- oh.”

He blinks, ashamed and embarrassed, looking down at his wrecked shoes with something close to pleading. God, he thinks, if you’re real, let the ground swallow me up. Please.

“Steve!” Max calls.

He flinches, his attention drawn back up. Max stands with the door open and resting on her hip, leaning over the roof of the car with a begrudging expression. He tries not to look at you, your hands fiddling with something hanging off of your rear view mirror.

“Kate Bush, Hounds of Love on cassette. The day it comes out. The day it comes out,” she emphasises.

“Whatever you want!” he promises, tripping over his words in a rush to get them out.

Max glares at him. “Don’t make me regret this.”

-

You smile at your little sister in the passenger seat. Her braids are a mess, loose and windblown from skating. You slow at a red and take the opportunity to reach out, running one through your fingers gently.

“They’re a mess, Maxie.”

Max pretends to be mad. “You weren’t there.”

“Sorry, baby.”

She shrugs. It’s been hard on her — everything. Losing Billy, your step dad leaving (though he was an asshole), moving into the trailer home, a summer alone; she'd broken up with her boyfriend and was spending less time with her friends. She’s been having bad headaches and nightmares.

Max doesn’t tell you much besides the bare minimum. Good thing your baby sister hasn’t ever needed to say her feelings aloud before you clocked them.

“You know my shifts are early now. With the overtime, and mom’s, we should be real comfortable.”

“Comfortable,” she scoffs.

You chew your bottom lip and take a long turn. “Don’t be like that. Overtime got you your new jacket. Which looks great, by the way.”

“Thank you.”

You frown even more at her serious, grateful tone, reaching out for your little sister's hand blindly. Max is kind enough to save you the effort and you give her smaller fingers a brilliant squeeze.

“You don’t have to say thanks to me. You deserve everything you want, Max. You know that.”

There’s a long silence then. You steal your hand back and flick on your indicator.

“Are you happy?” she asks.

You giggle, startled peels, and can’t help but look at her.

“Am I happy?”

“Are you happy?” she repeats resolutely.

“Of course I am. I have you. I have mom. Every night we go to bed with full bellies, and we don’t ever have to worry about someone laying their hands on us.”

“But are you happy? Are you…lonely?”

“Max, baby, is this about Lucas? You know, it’s okay to miss people, especially when you’re struggling-”

“No, it’s not about Lucas.” She slouches down in her seat, the seatbelt almost strangling her. You hold in the urge to scold her and wait for her to explain. “Do you like Steve?”

“Sure I do.”

“Enough to go out with him?”

You give her a tight smile. “I don’t have time for boys.”

Max looks out the window. You’re on the road outside the trailer now. You pull your car up onto the grass though you’re not supposed to and put it in park. Neither of you move to get out.

“He’s very handsome. And sweet. I think if I had a little bit more time and he asked me, then yes. I’d go out with him,” you tell her honestly.

Max doesn’t just admire honesty, she thrives on it. It’s good for her to feel trusted, and right now all you want is for her to be happy when she so clearly hasn’t been.

She looks at you seriously. “I don’t think you and mom both need to work overtime.”

“Come on. We have to take what we can get. You start high school in a few weeks, you need new clothes, a new bag. One of those fancy calculators,” you say, going for an airy lightness.

“I don’t need new clothes,” Max says, almost angry as she tears off her belt.

“We just want you to feel good about-”

“I would be happier if I thought you were happy,” Max says, quick and firm, pushing open the passenger door with her leg. She scrambles out, stands up tall, and then ducks her head back inside the car. “If you go, Steve said he’ll get me the new Kate Bush cassette.”

You pull the keys out of the ignition and give your scheming sister a reluctantly impressed chagrin.

“He really is handsome,” you say, sighing. Max’s smile is worth it, even if he turns out to be a real freak.

-

Steve doesn’t look like a freak outside Enzo’s. He looks tall. Casual enough, a button down and a pair of dark trousers, fancy shoes but not too fancy. He stands with his back to you but you’d know that hair anywhere. You call out his name as you approach.

It seems natural to give him a kiss on the cheek. He’s pretty and he’d been really, really nice over the phone when you’d called. Funny, slightly doting. And he’d said a bucketful of nice things about Max.

You were sold.

“Hi,” you say happily as you set back on your shoes.

“Hi,” he says, equally enthused.

“I’m sorry if I’m a bit late,” you say quickly.

You don’t have a watch. Steve doesn’t look at his own as he says, “No, you’re not late. I was early.”

He opens the door for you and gives his name for the reservation and soon you’re sitting down just close enough to the kitchen to smell a little bit of everything they’re making. Being asked on a date is nice in that you know Steve likes you, at least enough to ask, if not more, so all the real pressure is on him.

He’s feeling it, you think, his eyes everywhere but your face as he takes off his jacket.

“I’ve never been on a real date,” he says.

“Me neither,” you smile, “‘Less you count, like, prom.”

He raises his eyebrows, pushing up his sleeves as he slides forward, his full attention on you. You melt under his warm, brown gaze. “Who did you go with?”

“Randy.”

Steve wrinkles his nose. You grin, ready to lay into him.

“You have a problem with Randy?”

“What? No, no problem with Randy. Randy’s a nice guy. Really… tolerable.”

You snort. A waiter puts down two menus and asks if you’re ready for a round of drinks. Steve asks for a soda and you hold up two fingers with a smile.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” you confide, hedging forward on your elbows to be closer to him. “Randy was tolerable. He was a bad kisser, though.”

“I’ve heard that about him,” Steve says.

“Yeah?”

“No.”

A small silence, then you’re bursting into laughter, hand thrown up to cover your mouth.

“Have you had dinner here before?” you ask once the giggles have faded.

“No, but Dustin said we should try the Ziti.”

“Dustin…” you squint, eyes looking up to your lashes quizzically. “Max’s friend?”

Steve pales but saves himself quickly. “Yeah, Dustin Henderson. He’s like,” his lips part but nothing comes out. He wets his lips. “He comes to me for advice. And I look out for him, drive him places. He’s a good kid. Funny.”

“So he’s like your little brother.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s why Max likes you so much,” you say, nodding.

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I would. Max is very particular, you know.”

“Trust me, I do.”

Your soda arrives and Steve orders the baked ziti. You ask for the same, this time aloud, and then spend the time waiting looking over Steve appreciatively. He’s very handsome, as you’ve said, with a nice body and a nice smile, but what you really like about him is his kindness. He asks questions, seems more than intrigued by your answers. His chin rises as he answers yours, humble and funny.

He’s also a bumbling idiot, visually smitten and easy to get a rise out of. You’re obsessed.

“The uniform,” he’s saying, a fork held loosely in his hand, “you have an apron?”

“And why does that matter, Harrington?”

“You know, just in case you get messy.”

You put down your drink. “That’s disgusting,” you say seriously, knowing perfectly well he wasn’t insinuating anything.

He blushes mad scarlet. “No, I didn’t-”

You can’t contain a smile, laughing as it dawns on him.

“Oh, you’re mean,” Steve says. He doesn’t sound like he minds.

You finish up, running late for the ‘movie’ part of dinner and a movie. He insists on paying. You insist on going halves. It’s brisk outside and he’s quick to offer you his jacket. It smells like him, amber buried beneath bergamot, sandalwood, a handful of rich smells. A cologne you could get used to, you think, his jacket over your shoulders as you walk to his car.

You’re about two feet from his car, dizzy with how well you’re getting on and excited to see a new blockbuster with him when he puts a hand out between you. You slow.

“You have…” he says, hand raised slowly to your face.

You close your eyes and he draws near, careful where he touches your face. His fingertips brush against the well of your eye and pinch, his warmth disappearing. You blink open your eyes and see he’s holding an eyelash in front of your face.

He’s looking at the eyelash. You look at him, his brown eyes hedged in long, dark lashes, his thick eyebrows. He has a darling crop of freckles smattered over his nose and cheeks.

It’s dark out now. The ebbing light of the restaurant kisses his face, throws a shadow across his cheek as it hits his straight nose. His lips form words and you’re enchanted.

“Make a wish,” he says easily.

You close your eyes to think. For Max to be happy, you decide. And then, a voice that sounds suspiciously of your aforementioned sister, for me to be happy.

You blow the eyelash away and open your eyes. Steve’s hand hovers in front of your chest for a moment. You can’t explain why, only that the light and his company and the fullness of a great meal has made you slap dap happy, but you step forward, closing the gap until there’s less than a half foot of space between your rising chests. His hand bumps into your shoulder.

He has a split second to decide whether he should take it back or play it off. He makes the right decision, you think, or at least the one that makes you happy, when his palm sweeps up your neck, his fingers brushing the hair at the back of your head. Your chest burns with pleasure at his touch.

“You look really nice, tonight,” he says.

“Thank you,” you murmur, watching your own hand as you wrap your fingers around his elbow. You slide your hand up the warm plane of his forearm until you're clutching his wrist. “You look really nice, too.”

He rubs the curve that makes up the juncture of your neck. His hand is so warm you think it must be filled with nothing but hot, hot blood, rubbing your shoulder, his fingers spreading as they chase down the fall of your arm and then pull away.

“I’m glad you think so. Lucas vetoed the majority of my wardrobe this morning. Shithead said I dress like I’m trying too hard.”

He pulls open the passenger door. You’re busy feeling fond, your stomach awash with a thousand dancing butterflies.

“Are you getting in?” he asks.

You nod and smile and brush past him, lingering at his side for a half-second too long. You climb in. He shuts the door behind you.

He rounds the hood and jumps in next to you. You turn to him as he’s checking his rear view mirror, curious.

He sees your curiosity and is quick to grin, albeit nervously.

“What?” he asks.

“Do you always let 15 year olds dress you?” you ask.

Steve sighs morosely. “Not always.”

“Ah,” you say. You decide then and there that you’ll be sorely put out if he doesn’t kiss you goodnight after the movie.

He does.

<3

thank you for reading! | my masterlist | requests are open

#steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #my two fave characters <3 #steve harrington x mayfield!reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington one shot

[pottedplant53]

Twisted Wonderland Birthdates/Birthyears, In Order.

A comprehensive list of each TWST character’s exact birthdate, in order, down to the year + their ages. This will be going off of Twisted Wonderland’s release date, (2020), and not the current year (2023 at the time of writing). Contains chapter 7 spoilers.

- I’m aware that the Japanese school year starts in April instead of September, but for some reason my brain refused to process this so I ended up doing these based around the school year cut-off being September. I decided to post it anyway, since I’m pretty sure most of it’s still accurate, though I may do a Japanese version at some point!

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Lilia – Unknown, 1321. Chosen date is January 1st, 1321. (699 Years Old).

Silver – Unknown, 1621. Chosen date is May 15th, 2003. (299 - 300 Years Old, mentally 16 - 18).

Malleus – January 18th, 1842. (178 Years Old).

Leona – July 27th, 2000. (20 Years Old).

Trey – October 25th, 2001. (18 Years Old).

Rook – December 2nd, 2001. (18 Years Old).

Idia – December 18th, 2001. (18 Years Old).

Cater – February 4th, 2002. (18 Years Old).

Vil – April 9th, 2002. (18 Years Old).

Jamil – September 12th, 2002. (17 Years Old).

Jade - November 5th, 2002. (17 Years Old).

Floyd - November 5th, 2002. (17 Years Old).

Azul – February 24th, 2003. (17 Years Old).

Ruggie – April 18th, 2003. (17 Years Old).

Kalim – June 25th, 2003. (17 Years Old).

Riddle – August 24th, 2003. (17 Years Old).

Ace – September 23rd, 2003. (16 Years Old).

Jack – October 11th, 2003. (16 Years Old).

Sebek – March 17th, 2004. (16 Years Old).

Epel – May 6th, 2004. (16 Years Old).

Deuce – June 3rd, 2004. (16 Years Old).

Ortho – August 14th, 2011 - 2013. (6 - 8 Years Old, mentally 11 - 16).

~Ortho’s age is anonymous, so I had to do some speculations and maths here. I’m going to assume that R!Ortho was 8 years old at the date of his death, and that Idia constructed O!Ortho when he was around 10. This would give their parents plenty of time to start caring about Robortho before the pair left for Night Raven. I’m going to assume that O!Ortho is either 3 years old with the mental state of an 11 year old, or 3 years old with the mental state of a 16 year old (since he joined the first years, albeit as a special exception). Personally I’m leaning more towards the former.

~If Lilia was 300 years old during the war and Silver was a baby at the time (seemingly 0 - 1 years old) then that would mean that his birthyear falls somewhere between 1620 - 1622, most likely 1621. Lilia also states that the day he found Silver was the day that he decided for Silver's birthday, meaning that the odds of May 15th being his real birthday are 1/365. During Silver's identity crisis dream we see what he looked like on the day that Lilia found him, which we've established was May 15th, and he looks to be roughly 6 months old.

It's possible that Lilia thought of this and decided to consider this Silver's 1st birthday, but if that were the case, there's a good 50% chance that Silver has actually been awake for 16 years of his life, which would actually be very clever since Aurora was 16. In the reverse, if Lilia decided to treat the day he found Silver as the day he was born, then there's a 50% chance that Silver is actually 18. Basically what I'm saying is I haven't got a fucking clue-)

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Hope you get some use out of it, feel free to correct me if I'm wrong on anything <3

#twisted wonderland #twst #riddle rosehearts #trey clover #cater diamond #ace trappola #deuce spade #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #jack howl #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #kalim al asim #jamil viper #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #epel felmier #idia shroud #ortho shroud #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #sebek zigvolt #silver twst

[jadeee]

Living with Nanami - Part 2

feel free to read part 1 here 🛋️ I poured my heart into the first one and what do you know, I did the same thing here. this is incredibly long so consider youreself warned.

Not a lot of pillows on the couch or bed. It's just not practical. Honestly, he doesn't really care too much about this so he lets you have free reign. As long as it's comfortable enough to relax on, he's happy.

If you're like most people, your plants are barely surviving. They only get water when you remember. You don't think much about re-potting them, fluffing the soil, or moving them toward the sun from time to time; so, that unintentionally becomes Nanami's part time job. He can'r just leave them to die! Because then you'll complain, then buy another plant only for it to wilt within a matter of days.

The routine he develops is actually quite nice. He takes care of your plants every Saturday morning while you're still in bed - wiping their leaves of dust, checking how damp the soil is, looking for pests. When you comment on how well they're growing he simply says "Yes, they are," feeling a bit of pride swell in his chest.

Self-insert: One night, you two paint some terracotta pots together. Nanami isn't really sure what he's doing. He's not very artsy or creative; it comes so naturally to you and he's a bit envious because you make it look easy. The corner of his mouth was tight as he dragged the paint brush across the fragile pot in his hand. When he pulled back, he eyed it with obvious disappointment. {** pls read the footnote to hear the inspo behind this}

You sensed your husband's uneasiness like an incoming storm. "Ken, let me see." your voice was soft as you leaned over and he turned his handiwork toward you. Your eyes tried to make sense out of the shapes and lines.

"It's supposed to be an animal."

"... oh..."

"Is it really that bad?"

Heat filled your face "What?! No! It's," you studied the piece "abstract."

A soft grumble left him then but he perked up when you grabbed his artwork from him then started to add to it. After a moment, you flashed him the newly improved piece which was another little creature by the animal along with your shared initials. A remnant of a smile flashed across his face.

If you read part 1, do you remember that special framed object I mentioned? It's actually a memento from one of your earlier dates. You're cleaning your purse out one day when Kento walks over and notices an old receipt. He's a bit surprised when you don't throw it out. A smile forms when he hears you say "It means a lot to me." Because it's personal, it's in the bedroom away from prying eyes. Whenever he looks at it, he remembers that moment and it makes him feel warm, safe... loved.

Please don't hang those pictures and things on your own. He doesn't want you to accidentally fall or hurt yourself, so he prefers to do it. Maybe it's just me but I get the feeling these would be perfectly hung. Nice and straight, not slightly crooked.

Always interested to see how you'll redecorate the place when you get "bored". He'll study your Pinterest board and even search for things in his free time -- although he may not tell you. When I say 'search', I mean he's a collaborator on your board so he's adding notes and inspiration when he has the time but he's also searching for what you have so you can actually put it into your home. Imagine coming home one day to a package and he's not there yet. You: Hey, did you order this? *image* Kento: I did. I was hoping to get home first so I could set it up as a surprise. You: Aww! What is it? Kento: Don't open it. Just wait until I get there. You: Okay .... but what is it? Kento: Don't. Open. It. You: But.. Kento: 🫥 You: 🧍‍♀️... please? Kento: No. You: .... just a peek? Kento: (y/n), no. ~His sixth sense kicked in when you didn't respond right away.~ Kento: You did it anyway, didn't you? You: Sorry, I couldn't help it but aaahhhh I LOVE IT! TYSM! 🥰 Kento: You can be so impatient. You're welcome ❤️ Just don't set it up without me, ok? I don't want you to hurt yourself. You: Okay 😊 thank you, dear darling husband💐 Kento: You're welcome, sweetheart ❤️ I love you. You: I love you too, prob more Kento: Oh, don't start. You: 🤭

Side note: he really loves when you call him sweet little nicknames or things like 'darling'. No one's ever seen him in that light so you calling him something so soft and endearing makes his heart sing.

In regard to texting and all things tech, he's a fast learner but he doesn't dedicate himself to keeping up with these kind of things. So when you mention a new game system or getting a DVD player or projector {I saw a tiktok months ago where this lady's living room setup was a projector instead of a TV and now I want one} he's a bit indifferent. He doesn't really care as long as it's not costly and smthn you'll only use sparingly, go for it. Don't be surprised when he starts using it though, after you teach him ofc lol. Imagine coming home early after runngin errands and he's playing your switch 😂 I can also see him using emojis without knowing their intent {example: the sweat emoji}. If you get a DVD player or have anything similar, he actually loves it. He's a milennial {hope I got that right} so the whole thing is nostalgic for him. It makes him feel young again.

He'd have a few special movies that are close to his heart and remind him of better days before he met you. I'd bet everything I own that he has a DVD of the movie(s), he and Yu would watch. He doesn't watch it at first because he already tears up just holding it in his hand so it sits on the shelf for a while. When you inquire about it, he briefly talks about it. He's already told you about Yu and his entire past so you're not surprised. He loves how you don't push him to talk any further though, you're a quiet comfort and he couldn't ask for anything more. One day, he does watch the movie though, I'd imagine it's when he's by himself. 9 times out of 10 it's some horrible comedy. Yu loved it and Nanami only suffered through it for his friend's sake. As the movie plays on, he chuckles at some horrible joke then gets teary eyed when he hears the echoes of Yu's laughter in his mind. "Y'know he'd be proud of you, right?" he hears your words playback in his head then wipes his tears.

He's a laundry wizard. I remember seeing a post a long time ago that said smthn like 'we know he's great at laundry because how does he get all the blood off his clothes'. Can't find it but shoutout to the OP. This would honestly come in clutch for whatever period incidents you have {bc it happens}. I love this though bc he's completely unfazed when it first happens. He sees you rushing to the bathroom and watches you try to get it out then just says he can take care of it. Imagine just watching him to learn 😭he gets a little flustered but tries to maintain his seriousness.

"Wait," you move closer to him until you're peering over his shoulder. Your scent envelops him and he hates how quickly the blood rushes to his cheeks.

"Hm?" he stops working at the stain then looks back at you.

"How much of that stuff did you use?"

"Just a capful."

"Oh, okay." you remain close to him "Continue."

He didn't speak. He couldn't so he just did as told, rubbing out the stain with you hovering over his shoulder.

Actually gets a bit upset when he sees you taking the trash out for the first time. He doesn't yell but he simply stands by you and takes the bag out of your hands with a "I've got it". Tradition gets the best of him at times. His reasoning is that he "doesn't want you to get your hands dirty".

Everything has a designated spot. He'd prefer if you don't move things but if you must, at least tell him first. This actually made me think of the "Honey, where's my super suit?!" scene from The Incredibles lol.

The welcome mat at the front door is what solidified it for him. Seeing it everyday when he unlocks the door just makes him feel so warm. When his eyes land on you popping your head out of the kitchen to greet him with a brief "hey!" they tear up just a bit. He sheds his coat and shoes then walks into the kitchen to wrap his arms around you and bury his head in the crook of your neck. You chuckle out of surprise then wrap your arms around him "Are you ok?" Your fingers find their way to his undercut to give him that comforting caress. He blesses you with one of those low hums of contentment.

Domesticity really brings out the softer side of him. Don't get me wrong, it was always there but the fact that you two now have a place to call your own. It's not an apartment or a small shared space but a house that you've turned into a home. He can paint the walls with you, build a garden, maybe a nursery... he can live here. He can be happy... he can be happy with you.

You don't know he's thinking all of this though. All you know is that one morning, you're glancing out the window and see your husband painting the mailbox. The fabric of your houserobe feels warm on your skin as you step outside. "What are you do-" your eyes land on the white paint of his unfinished work which reads "Nan" in white paint. "I figured we'd be here for a while." he glances at you with rosy cheeks, still holding the paintbrush in his hand. "Where's mine?" He chuckles and hands you his paintbrush then places a kiss on the top of your head. For once, and more to come, he let himself smile fully as he watches you add "a" to your shared last name. "Y'know darling, you shouldn't be out here dressed like that. People may want you for themselves." "I guess you'll have to let them know I'm your wife then." you glance back at him with a smirk then face forward to finish the last detail of your work. When you turn around to hand him the paintbrush, he barely grips it before pulling you in for a brief kiss. The morning feels cool on his skin. The birds are chirping... are they bluejays? He'd find out tomorrow when he wakes up by your side and hears them again.

Author's Note: I think we've established I'm sick for this man made up of lines and colors.

** In season 1, episode 3 of Life Lessons with Uramichi Oniisan, there's a scene where Uramichi is watching TV and a commercial pops up for the viewer to take a psychological test by drawing simple pictures. One of the pictures is an animal and he draws a dog. He then has to send the picture to other people to see if they can accurately guess what it is and it's meant to show if he/the viewer has personality issues. You should be able to watch the full clip here, just go to 21:00! Lmk if the link works or not - this is honestly such a favorite of mine and I haven't even finished it.

p.s.: I found out about the show when I used to work at the mall, LUSH for pple who are curious, and one of the girls/a customer had this really cool tattoo of this funky looking bird. Idk what it was so ofc I had to ask - then she tells me that her and her friend, who was by her side, have matching ones and that it's from Life Lessons with Uramichi Oniisan! I made sure to watch the show when I had time and even though I haven't finished it, I plan on it. He's so relatable, too relatable lmbo, and I can see some similarites between Kento and he; so now I have to finish it, right?

p.p.s: if you read all that, here's your reward lol 🧋🌼🥠🍎🫂

#going back to my hidey hole. i really write then dip - ok byee!!! #madebyjade #kento nanami #nanami kento #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk kento #kento x reader #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nanami headcanons #jujutsu nanami #jjk x reader #jjk #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen nanami

[lostfirefly]

If you sit down with this old clown, take that frown and break it, before the evening's gone away, I think that we could make it

I probably won’t surprise anyone, but the idea came to me in a dream. In it, two girls were sitting at a bar and one of them wanted to meet Buggy (I'm serious!). So welcome to another dream! :) English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Buggy and F/GN Reader - Masterlist is here.

Description: Your sister took you to a bar so she could meet someone. She saw Buggy, but he clearly showed interest in you.

Warnings: Nerd people are mentioned here. I have nothing against people who are passionate about something. The basis is the reaction of people who do not understand other people's hobbies.

Words: 1815

Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots

The title is taken from “I Hope That I Don't Fall in Love With You” by Tom Waits.

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GIF by vinnymauro

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“Why did you bring me here?” You twirled a glass of wine in your hands. 

“Well, because I'm tired of being alone. It's time to get back into the game after we broke up with that asshole.” Your sister leaned back in her chair and scanned the entire room with her eyes. “There are no decent candidates yet.”

“That's all very nice to hear, but why do you need me here?” You took a sip of wine and snacked on cheese. 

“I’m afraid I need a co-pilot, Y/N.” Your sister chuckled and scratched her nose.

“We've been sitting here for two hours and the only options that have come to us are those pot-bellied weirdos over there.” You carefully pointed your little finger at the table where a group of chubby guys in glasses sat, endlessly discussing aliens and yeties. 

“They’re not that weird.” Your sister tilted her head slightly. 

“Not weird? Seriously? One of them came up wearing a t-shirt with the inscription that said “take a ride on my flying saucer.” You laughed. “Sorry, but I didn't sign up for a such kind of date.”

“Well, if there are no other options, I'll choose the one with the Bigfoot t-shirt.” Your sister shrugged and opened new bottle of wine. 

“I'll hope he's not as hairy as his pet on his clothes.” You giggled and poured some wine into your glass. 

“You're such a bitch.” Your sister shook her head and took a piece of cheese.  

Suddenly a loud laughter echoed through the bar. Everyone sitting in the bar instantly turned towards the sound.

“Lord, who is laughing so hard?” You turned around, craning your head. “Apparently that tall guy at the bar.”

“Wow! He’s cute! Why didn't we notice him before?!!” Your sister looked in the same direction. 

“Seriously? Are you sure we're looking at the same guy? Blue hair, red nose, makeup on his face.” You nodded your face towards the guy sitting at the counter. His laughter seemed to shake the walls of the entire establishment.

“Yes. He’s cute!” Your sister kicked your leg under the table. “Go and find out from him whether he’s sitting here with someone or alone.” 

“Why me?” You look at her.  

“You're my co-pilot, Y/N. Or do you want me to start playing the poor abandoned girl card.” Your sister made a sad face. “I might even cry.”

“Okay!” You rolled your eyes. “Fuck. Why is it always me?” 

You muttered under your breath, took a glass, stood up and headed towards. You cleared your throat and gently patted the blue-haired man on the shoulder. “Hey, you. Hello!”  

“What?” He turned sharply and looked you with his green eyes up and down. 

“Nothing. My sister liked you.” You took a sip, realizing that you had said something stupid.

“And what?” The man look at you questionably. 

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “Go up to her and say hello like all normal people.” 

“No! I’m busy!” He turned around and poured some whiskey. 

“You’re busy? How? What are you doing? You just sit and drink.” You threw up your hands.

“It's called being busy, brownie! Do you see?” He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, grinned and poured himself a glass of whiskey in one gulp. “So, sorry, my love.” 

“Fuck you! Asshole!” You returned to the table, sat down and groaned. 

“So? Will he come? Y/N, please, say he'll come!” Your sister looked at you with hope. “He's so cool when he grumbles.” She smiled slightly.

“No, he won’t. He’s kind of strange, to be honest. He’s sitting there alone, and by the way, he wears more makeup than you and me combined.” You leaned your elbows on the back of the chair and looked towards the bar counter again.

“Y/N, go and ask what he is doing? Maybe he will come..” Your sister took another sip of wine, looked at you with pleading eyes and lightly tapped her palms on the table.

“Why me? You liked him, so you go! You made a hand gesture, sending your sister to the bar.

“I’m shy.” She stared at the table and began to move her finger along the glass. “You’re better at talking than me. Y/N, plee-e-e-a-a-ase!” 

“Why do I always fall for this? Okay! Site here.” You groaned, stood and came to the bar counter. 

You tapped the man on the shoulder. “Hey, you! Hello again!”

“You again?” He looked at you, and it seemed to you for a second that he was glad to see you. “Now what?” 

“Yeah, me. Well... My sister… My sister is still sitting there.” You carefully pointed towards your table. “And still likes you.” 

“And my question is still, “so what?” The man turned to you. 

“Listen, are you always such a rude person?” You squinted your eyes and took a sip. 

“Great!” He laughed loudly. “Your sister is sending you to me, and I’m the rude one in this situation!” 

“Look, okay, I admit it. I'm not very good at being a co-pilot. To be honest, I have no idea how to do this correctly.” Your chuckled. 

“That's noticeable, brownie!” He flicked your nose and winked.

“Is it difficult for you to spare 5 minutes with us? Say hello, say a joke and then say goodbye. Her boyfriend dumped her, by the way. And for some strange reason she liked you.” You softened your voice.  

“Still my answer is no!” The man turned back to the bar.

“Ass!” You muttered under your breath and was about to come back to your sit.  

“Hey, wait!” The man shouted at you. “What's the name?” 

“Whose name? Sister?”

“No! Your. What's your name?” He looked at you and took a sip. 

“Y/N. And you?” You squinted one eye.  

“Buggy.”  

“Well, hi, Buggy.” You smiled slightly. 

“Well, hi, Y/N.” He winked at you again.  

“Won't you come over?” You nodded again towards the table.

“Sorry, brownie, no!” Buggy shook his head and laughed again.  

“Okay!” You exhaled. “Enjoy your drink!”

You returned to the table and shrugged. “I'm a lousy co-pilot, sister. He won't co~.” 

"So, girls.” Suddenly, a white-gloved hand slammed a bottle of whiskey onto the table. “Are we relaxing?" 

“YES!!!” Your sister shouted happily, and immediately covered her mouth with her hand, not expecting such volume from herself. 

“Yes. Relaxing.” You looked at Buggy and quietly whispered “thank you”.

Buggy winked at you again. “I thought I'd rather keep you company than these weirdos in weird t-shirts.” He placed his hand on the back of your chair. “And I’m Buggy, by the way. So. What are you talking about?” 

“About various things.” Your sister said, started twirling her hair on her finger. 

“Come on, brownie... and... well.. brownie’s sister, tell me about yourselves.” Buggy poured himself a glass of whiskey and gently placed his hand on your back. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye and smiled slightly. 

“Oh, I work at the police station.” Your sister took a sip of the wine without taking her eyes off Buggy. “Well, you know. Administrator. I register cases and everything.”

“Sounds good. What about you, brownie?” Buggy moved his hand over your back a little lower. 

“Nothing to tell, to be honest. I just quit my two jobs, and now I’m celebrating my freedom.” You blushed a little, feeling his hand started stroking your back. 

He took the bottle, turned it over in his hands and smelled it. “You can't celebrate by drinking some crap.” Buggy called the waiter and ordered another bottle of wine. He placed your open bottle on the weirdo’s table. “Guys, this is for you. The best wine in this bar. Enjoy your evening.”  

Buggy chuckled strangely, sat down and moved his chair closer to you. You could smell him, smelling like a mixture of rum and whiskey, and musk.

“Okay, okay.” You glanced at him. “You asked about us. It's our turn! Tell me, what do you do in life?” 

“Me?” He looked at you, pointing his finger at himself. “You don't know who I am?” 

“Sorry, Buggy.” You took his bottle of whiskey and poured some into your glass, squinting your eyes. “But I have no idea who you are.” 

“Na-ah! First, that's my bottle. And I'm gonna get it back.” He smirked and took the bottle from your hands. “Y/N! My brownie, I'm the genius and famous Buggy the Clown!” 

You drank whiskey and choked. “Fuck, it's strong.” You wiped your lips. “Who are you? The clown? From the circus? From the real circus?” You slightly turned your body towards him.

“The realest and greatest circus in the world!” Buggy placed his hand on your waist.  

“So what?” Your sister asked and ran her foot along his leg. “Do you have acrobats, jugglers and mimes there?” 

“Exactly, brownie’s sisters!” Buggy pointed his glass at her. “The best acrobats, the best mimes, the best jugglers! You should go to my show. Especially you, brownie!” He flicked your nose.

“Me?” You tried not to notice his hand on your waist. “Why me? Sorry, Buggy the Clown, I don't like circuses!” 

“You just weren't in my circus, baby!” Buggy winked at you and slowly moved his hand to your hip. 

“Damn, I'm out of whiskey. Waiter. Hey! Are they deaf or something? I'll be right back. Brownie.” He stood up and winked at you. “And.. brownie's sister.”

“How do you do it, Y/N?” Your sister laughed, taking a sip of her wine.

“What am I doing?” You raised one eyebrow.

“I noticed the guy, and he will leave with you. Probably.” Your sister leaned back in her chair and looked around.

“He seems okay. He's even cute.” You shrugged your shoulders and glanced at Buggy, who was actively gesticulating and laughing at the bar counter. “Or maybe he’s flirting with everyone like that.”

"No way! He liked you!" Your sister stuck her tongue out at you.

“Sorry...” You answered sadly.

“Oh, fuck it. He's yours. I'll go meet the yeti.” Your sister took the glass and went to the next table.

“Hey! Where is your sister?” Buggy asked in surprise as he came back.

“She went to see that dude who's wearing a yeti t-shirt. Why are you asking? Miss her?” You immediately straightened your hair, placed your hand on the table and rested your chin on your palm.

“No, brownie. I miss you already.” Buggy plopped down next to you and moved his face close to yours. “So, what are your plans for today?” He stroked your shoulder with his fingers.

You moved even closer to his face and winked. “Buggy the Clown, it seems like you promised to show me your circus. But first…” You carefully ran your finger along his leg. “You will buy me a brownie.”

#one piece #buggy the clown #buggy live action #one piece live action #buggy one piece #opla buggy the clown #buggy fanfiction #buggy fic #opla buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #buggy x female reader #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy x reader

[jarofstyles]

i would love a blurb about “You again” Harry and Yn going back to the cafe they went to together after reuniting at the dating location!!! Maybe a few years have passed and they wanted to go back because it shows how far they've come as a couple. They're all soft and Harry's just as enamoured with her that he was the very first day he saw her—but this time they have a little boy at home who has her soft nose and some of his features just like he hoped🥹

Wait this is so cute Omg. Yes.

Check out our Patreon!

-

“Excuse me, pretty lady. Can I buy you a coffee?” Y/N felt hands covering her eyes which had made her bristle, but the husky voice behind her coaxed a silly grin from her mouth. Of course. He had to be cheesy.

“I don’t know. I have a very handsome, strong, scary husband at home. He may not take kindly to strange men buying me coffee.” She retorted, suddenly getting her vision back as his hands spun her around to face him. He was handsome in his blazer and button up, his faux scowl making him look even more delicious.

“Damn right I would. But thank you for the compliments. I’m glad to know my wife is very committed to me.” He melted into his own small grin, leaning down to kiss the top of her nose. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Hi, beautiful. Can’t believe we’re back here.”

Taking a look around, Y/N couldn’t believe it either. It had been 6 years to the day they met in this very coffee shop. So much had happened but somehow the place had managed to stay mostly the same. “Mhm. The place where it all started. It’s a bit crazy, isn’t it?” She placed his hand in her own as Harry led her to the very booth they had first locked eyes on each other. Luckily it was vacant, so Harry had stolen it for them.

“It is. I wish we could have brought the baby.” He sighed. Their son was 3 now, having time with Harry’s mum while they had their annual date. This just happened to be the anniversary of the day they met. The ring on her finger symbolized their other anniversary. It hadn’t been long after they rekindled that they got engaged. Some may say it was rushed, but Harry referred to it as “when you know, you know.” Y/N teased him about wanting to lock her down quickly, but never had much to say after he reminded her of how quickly she said yes.

“One day we can take him here with us. Just not date night, hm? It’s the designated time for us to simply be a couple.” She kicked his foot under the table, initiating a casual game of footsie. Something Harry never understood why she liked so much but indulged because she liked to have the comfort. “Besides, I remember the day I saw you. You were so handsome but that first time you seemed distracted.” Now she knew why. But back then she hadn’t. “We clicked right away so I was so confused why I barely heard from you after. I’m glad you came back to find me.” Even if was a while after.

“It was driving me crazy. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And you love that I’m an old man so obviously I didn’t have much to worry about.” He joked, wrapping his hand around hers. There was a slight interruption of their coffees being brought to them, but their banter never faltered. It hadn’t after years of marriage.

“You’d think the decor would have changed but it looks the exact same. Like a time capsul.” She looked around at the same painting she had stared at during other speed rounds of those dates when she didn’t want to look the people in the eyes. Harry had been the one she couldn’t tear her eyes from.

“Kind of nice though. Nostalgia.” He replied, taking his own sweep. “I’ll always love this place. It brought me to you. The best decision of my life was trying to find you again.” His thumb swiped her knuckle as he kissed her cheek again. Still years into their marriage and he was unable to keep away from her.

“And your worst mistake was leaving me the first.” Y/N liked to tease him about it because he would trip over himself. This time though, she got the side eye and a scoff, his all knowing nod enough of an answer. “I’m glad you came back to try and find me. You swept me off my feet. I never imagined meeting someone and feeling connected to them so easily.” They’d gone through why it had hurt the first time they left without exchanging information and that sometimes; the soul just knows. The second time had just been a confirmation. Harry had really thought he was jumping the gun and he was a bit odd for liking her as much as he did but now he knew why.

“Me either. I’ll never take you for granted. Gave me the most beautiful baby and all your love. I couldn’t ask for more.” Y/N rewarded him with a kiss on the cheek, right where the dimple caved into his skin. It was her signature move when she had made him smile after their first few real dates to map out where they were so she could always aim there. “I’m just glad our dates can be much longer now. Speed dates with you aren’t long enough.” She twirled the wedding ring on his finger. “I need many lifetimes.”

#you again #you again h #jarofstyles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfics #harry styles dad #harry styles one shots #harry styles fic #harry styles blurbs

[to6ge]

Hobie Brown x Gn!Reader

Pairing : Hobie Brown / Spider punk x Gender neutral!Reader

Cw : Nothing! This fanfiction is purely fluff :3

Summary : MJ and Peter goes out for a date, Peter requests Hobie to babysit Mayday! He doesnt wanna be alone so, you tagged along!

Gwen’s note : Some feminine traits Punctuations are intended to be improper. Anyways sorry to my sister because this is very bad but i tried my best :( ( part 2 here!! )

MAYDAY IS OLDER HERE! around 3 yrs old

Possible ATSV spoilers!

» Request from my sister !!

. . ୨୧ . .

Mayday played with the web shooter and shot a web at Hobie’s face. You laughed hysterically, you thought this was funny, you laughed for a solid 20 seconds till you got cut off “Love, it ain’ that funny” he said pissed.

“I cant help it Hobie!” you were still laughing at that point but you eventually stopped. Mayday was crawling everywhere, you both had a difficult time trying to tame her, she was crawling around till you caught her. “Awh, May! Youre so cute.” you beamed happily. Hobie was just leaning on the doorframe looking at you. “Love, this child’s a handful.”

It hit 5’o clock in the evening when Mayday started crying for food. It was simple since she just needed to eat food, so you both prepared it and Hobie had to spoon feed her. It was so cute watching them both get along. Mayday seemed to like Hobie a lot! You took pictures without them noticing, you giggled when you saw him spoonfeeding Mayday.

Then finally, you and Hobie started to get hungry. You knew how to cook instant noodles, but the problem was, is there even instant noodles inside of Peter and MJ’s house?! “Hobie do you think there are cup noodles here?” you asked, a bit desperate for food. “I saw some down the kitchen counters, why? y’know how to make ’em? I must say my stomach is pretty empty as well,” He said, also a bit desperate for food!

“Great! Wait here and watch over Mayday. Ill go cook some cup noodles,” You beamed happily, skipping off to the kitchen.

After a while, you were finally done making those cup noodles. It took a while but they were worth the wait! You quickly rushed into the room they were in and Mayday was already tucked into her crib. It was just the two of you.

“Should we eat somewhere else or...?” you asked. “Yes, I think we should. We wouldnt want to wake up Mayday,” Hobie replied. You both went to the living room and took some blankets with you. Hobie turned on the TV and put on both of your favorite cartoon. You watched TV while eating.

Once both of you were done, you put on the blanket and rested your head on his shoulder. The moon shined behind the window, your face was lit with the rays of the moon and it was beautiful. It was 1.37AM when the cartoon show stopped. Then finally, you both finally slept in peace.

Apologies, this fanfiction is badly written HAHAHA and its very short. So sorry if its unenjoyable, its short and I kinda ran out of ideas midway so yeah. This is like the very first fanfiction I wrote here.

Btw,, I will make a part 2 for this as a “day 2” of babysitting Mayday!!

#spiderman x you #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv x reader #atsv x reader #hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #spider punk #spider punk x reader #˚ʚ♡ɞ˚gwens4vr

[earthtooz]

because of my rescue cats, and because Reo's rich, please think of this with me.

Reo wanted a pet, so he was given a cat. some high pedigree, beautiful, insanely expensive kitten from high breeding and luxurious fur. a beautiful proper 'mew' and very graceful. probably has a diamond studded collar or smth too.

enter, you: the love of Reo's life, whose cats come with none of that. the first time he meets your cat, your baby, it's a bit of class whiplash to his face. He didn't really think about how "top tier" his darling cat was, he basically thought "cat's a cat"

Until your cat, who's just a big, orange striped, kind of wonky looking cat you found on death's door after being abandoned with a broken back that was untreated and healed Wrong, torn up ears, health complications, can't jump, wobbles harshly as it walks, and sounds a bit like a broken honk instead of a meow.

For some reason Reo goes from down bad to down worse. Seeing you with this poster cat for 'mangy stray that's been kicked too many times' and proudly introducing him, like this is your greatest treasure, with far more lasting love than all the jewelry he's gifted you, makes him love you even more.

admittedly, i've been a little selfish bc i wanted to let this ask marinate itself in my inbox so i could cherish it forever and keep it in here when i inevitably respond to it... but it's time to share this thought with everyone :,((( more comments in tags anon !

no bc this thought is so... beautiful. the very clear divide between your lifestyles manifesting through the damn cats you own. that's not to say your situation is dire or anything along those lines, but anyone- compared to reo, could look far off. especially this cat that you are now holding in your arms.

he's in your apartment after coming back from a date, hoping just to hangout and watch a movie or something when he meets your cat. the purple-haired hasn't ever seen it before, only knowing that you got him from a shelter when it was around seven years old - older than most pet owners get their cats. it's... beat up to say the least, and reo frowns just thinking about what it must have gone through to end up with a partially scratched off ear, a limp, and as many health complications as you told reo about.

but clearly, none of the cat's complications matter when it mewls happily, brushing against your legs. it's with a coo that you pick it up, cradling it in your arms, showering it with undivided love and affection as the cat similarly leans itself into you, so trusting and vulnerable in your warmth. it begins purring the second you scratch behind its ears.

reo feels his heart squeeze at the sight, rendering itself utterly helpless to your charm and kindness. he knows how hard it is to get a cat to trust people, even as kittens, so he can't imagine how many hoops you had to jump through to get a grown cat to love you back. the journey could not have been easy, especially with how rough this cat's life has been.

it feels like 6 out of 9 of them have been used up, but reo feels warmed knowing that at least it'll have an incredible 3 with you.

he knows because even though reo may not have 9 lives, you make his one feel indescribable.

#your mind anon i genuinely #i like #oh my gosh the effect that this idea had on me was incredible... #you basically wrote everything this snippet genuinely changed my brain chemistry #this is such a unique idea #i'm #biting my pillow rn #AHHHHHH #THANK YOU ANON #FOR BLESSING ME WITH THIS #AND CHOOSING ME TO BESTOW THIS MAGNIFICENT IDEA UPON #earf's inbox hours ✌️ #*ੈ✩‧₊˚ earf's ideas that i'll never write #reo x reader #blue lock x reader #earf's reo rambles #i'm a fan of ur work #i bow down to u.

[absurdthirst]

The Valentine's Dom {Modern!Pero Tovar x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 13.9k

Warnings: Dom/Sub dynamics, use of safe words, bondage, gagging, oral (male and female receiving), flogging, pussy slapping, derogatory language, semi-public sex, mentions of anal, sex toys

Comments: Professor Tovar hates anything modern, especially technology. Making you insult him at every turn when he scoffs at your modern methods to teach. Archaic and stuck in his ways, you are surprised to find a different side to he medieval professor at the Valentine's dance your college throws every year.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Pero Tovar MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

"Jesus Christ, Tovar. Get some coffee, will ya?" William shakes his head at his colleague/friend. 

Pero grumbles, pouring out the sludge that the university calls 'coffee'. He huffs and looks down at the pink cup in his hand. His own had gone missing, maybe buried under a pile of papers he has to grade, and he just grabbed the first one his fingers touched, not knowing it's yours. You are a professor of Mythology. In the history department alongside Pero and William who both teach East Asian and European histories respectively. Pero always had an interest in Eastern Asia, visiting China many times during his college years to learn more about the culture and the history. After serving in the Spanish military, he spent years researching and writing papers on his findings in Asia, earning him respect and admiration from the historical community, until he eventually found his place teaching in NYU. 

"Your accent grates on me this early in the morning." Tovar retorts back to William, leaning against the counter in the break room.

“Everything grates on you this early in the morning.” William teases, smirking at the dark glare that Tovar throws him. “I don’t know how you were in the military and didn’t get in trouble for your horrible morning attitude. Or just your attitude.” Tovar has a very prevalent reputation of being a grouch. So much so that he was routinely bet against as the first professor to drop a kid from his class. The stern man not tolerating a lot of the bullshit some college students believe they can get away with. “Have you looked over the new grading system?” Will asks, changing the subject and hopefully not earning another growled threat of bodily harm.

“Don’t fucking mention that bullshit. Why does everything have to go through a computer nowadays? What happened to good old pen and paper? We teach history. They didn’t have this - this technology in their day and yet we are subjected to it because it’s standard practice. It’s ridiculous.” Tovar growls, taking another sip of the coffee before he pulls the mug away and scowls at it, “who does this mug belong to?” He asks, not recognizing the cute little green alien character on it. “What is a Grogu?” He asks William.

What is a Grogu? You snort when you walk into the breakroom, giving the Spaniard a withering glare. “He’s a cute little baby from The Mandalorian.” You tell him, annoyed that he’s stolen your coffee mug. Tovar just stares at you and you try again. “That show on Disney Plus? It’s everywhere? The Star Wars show?”

“I have heard of Star Wars but Disney Plus? What is that?” He asks, mystified. 

You chuckle, “it’s a streaming service. Like Netflix.” 

Pero shakes his head, “I don’t like streaming services. Too complicated. Too many subscriptions and then you can never find anything to watch. I have cable. Just cable. You press the channel button, the volume button and on and off. It’s simple. None of this streaming bullshit.” He says, displaying his disdain for technology once again.

William chuckles, used to his friends rants about technology and there was just no use for all of it . “Yeah but you still have the internet, don’t you?” He teases, making the other man scowl at him viciously. Aware of why he was ribbing him and unwilling to talk about that around you. 

“Shut up amigo, before you wear my coffee.” He growls, making you shake your head. 

“Jesus, Tovar. You are such a dinosaur.” You huff. “I think you would rather live in the times you teach about.”

"What's so wrong about that? They survived or they died. There was no coddling like they do now, these kids are soft. They whine if their internet goes out. No gumption. The internet has made people soft and I use it only when I absolutely must. Those times...they were survival of the fittest." 

William snorts, "until you die of syphilis...oh wait...you'd actually have to get laid to get that." William jokes and Tovar narrows his eyes at him. 

“Shut up, pendejo." 

You press your lips together, smirking at William’s barb. “Perhaps if you weren’t such a grumpy ass, maybe one of your students would want to sleep with you?” You offer, grinning at him. “You know, for extra credit?” You’ve heard the comments about the hot but scary professor. Tovar scowls at you like you suggested running through the dean’s office naked. “Or not.” You shrug. “Can I have my coffee mug back?”

Pero huffs, downing the rest of his coffee,  “let me wash it out for you first, hermosa.” He says and takes the mug over to the sink, grabbing the dish soap to wash the rim of the mug and the inside, making sure it’s pristine and dry when he hands it back to you. “Thanks for letting me borrow it.” He says, “I have to get to class.” He murmurs, ignoring the way his stomach twists when your fingers brush his when you take the coffee cup back from him.

You frown slightly when he calls you beautiful. “You’re welcome.” You offer after he’s already turned back around to move away. Tovar is barely ever civil, having called your class ‘meaningless drivel’ several times. Instead of asking if he’s feeling okay, you simply move over to the coffee pot. “Ready for the new semester?” You ask, more William than Pero because you know he won’t answer you anyway.

William nods, "yeah. Too many fucking drop outs to file. Guess no one likes European history?" He snorts and Pero smirks, "maybe if you stopped doing an entire semester on the potato famine, amigo." 

William huffs, "the fucking British crown led to-" 

"Okay, okay." You get in between them, knowing Garin will stand there all day if you let him rant about his Irish history. 

"I should get in there. I want to be early. Intimidation is the best way to filter them out early." Pero says seriously, knowing that some students take his class thinking it's an easy A.

You snort. “You could always have fun with your class, Tovar.” You suggest. “It’s about teaching them things they wouldn’t get from letting their class course sit idle on their computers.” You know very well that Tovar doesn’t do online books. He’s very hands-on and has even had to provide the books for his class because they are no longer published. “You know, a power point would go a long way.”

"Absolutely not. I have the whiteboard and the textbooks. I don't need anything else. Maybe the projector at times but nothing else." He is adamant. If he uses technology, then his students will simply be on their laptops fucking around and not listening to him. "fun won't get them into their chosen career, will it? I am simply teaching them life skills."

You roll your eyes, not subscribing to that mentality at all. “That’s fine.” You huff, taking a sip of your coffee now that you’ve doctored to your liking. “Most of the kids who drop out of your class pick up mine.”

“Good for you. Taking my leftovers.” He chuckles, “I only teach the ones who want to learn. I’m not here to babysit.” He scoffs and crosses his arms, “you might enjoy babysitting but that’s not for me.”

You huff, rolling your eyes at his mentality. “I enjoy teaching people about mythology, it’s not babysitting. The kids in my class are just as challenged as yours.”

“Well, you give them online tests and quizzes, señorita. Do you not suspect they are cheating?” He raises his eyebrows when you don’t respond. “Exactly. There’s no cheating in my class. It’s old school. Just how I like it.”

You roll your eyes again and sigh. “Whatever, Tovar. Go live in your cave and I’ll run my class how I see fit.” You snark, sending William a grin. “Enjoy your first day of class, gentleman.”

Pero watches you go, pleased he won this round with you. You’re always trying to mock his old fashioned ways but he won’t let you win. He knows his class is hard but it prepares his students for their future careers. “You’re gonna end up together. You know that, right?” William teases Pero who wrinkles his nose. 

“She’s the last woman I’d want. She’s too…opinionated.” He lies slightly, knowing you are gorgeous and smart but you clash with him too much and he won’t be the one to give in in this feud you have going on.

You huff to yourself as you walk down the hall to your lecture hall. Why you let Pero goad you, you’ll never understand. The man reeks of superiority complexes and caveman antics. Obviously not someone you should even consider a friend, let alone speak to outside your role as a colleague. “Fuck him.” You hiss to yourself as you shake your head. He’s not going to make you change the way you run your class, just like it will be a cold day in hell when he changes his own ways.

When the students filter in for his class, Pero stands tall and grabs the chalk, starting to write down the notes for today's lesson. He knows that a lot of his students think he’s old fashioned, even down to his loafers and blazers but he doesn’t care. He likes things a certain way and that won’t change.

Your first day goes exceedingly well. Every class, you have the students fill out a little questionnaire online about them. It’s just highlights that might be helpful if they need some additional help with your course load. The syllabus is acknowledged by all students and you’ve directed them to the site where all your lectures are uploaded so no one had to spend time copying down notes instead of engaging. You want them to think, to question. Humming happily, you watch the last class of the day file out of your room.

****

A month into the semester and Tovar is already exhausted. His hand aches from writing for hours every day on the whiteboard and then grading. He’s burning the candle as he sits there after hours, grading his latest test. His glasses are perched on his nose and he rubs his cheek while he takes a break. “Mierda.” He grunts, standing up and deciding to get a coffee from the break room.

Office hours have run over, making it a long day for you. It’s the longest of the week, but everything is going well, several of your students coming to you to make sure they were on track. Sighing to yourself, you carry your coffee mug to the break room to wash out for tomorrow. You frown when you hear someone moving around, most of the staff having gone home for the night. “Tovar? What are you doing here?” You ask, walking in to find the Spaniard fighting with the coffee machine.

“Busy grading papers. Trying to figure out that new damn system they have forced us into. They won't accept my handwritten grades anymore. Told me I have to join the 21st century.” He scoffs, knowing that he might be antiquated but at least he isn’t stuck in his phone all day, looking at mindless shit. “Why are you here so late?” He asks, turning back to the coffee machine and failing to handle it. “Pendejo.” He growls at the machine, knowing he’s missing a step with the new machine. Why can’t they stick to the pot of coffee that goes stale after a few hours? Now it’s a Keurig with pods and he’s confused.

You snicker and decide to show him some pity. “Let me.” You nudge him out of the way and open the top of the coffee maker to pop a pod on. “Look, it's easy.” His coffee mug on the tray, you close the lid and press a button to start his coffee. “My office hours ran over late tonight.” You admit as you turn back towards him with a smug grin on your face, proud that you could work the coffee maker for him. “Was just coming to clean my coffee cup and go home.”

“I’ll walk you to your car.” He insists, knowing it’s dark outside and no one is really around. He might not agree with your teaching methods but he wants you to be safe. 

“Oh, you don’t -” You shake your head but he cuts you off.

“I do.” He grabs his coffee, “go get your things and I’ll put my coffee on my desk. I’ll meet you at the door. It’s freezing out there so you’d better not have parked too far away.” He half jokes with you, walking off before you can argue to get his coat and set his coffee down.

Huffing to yourself about his completely gruff, yet sweet gesture, you quickly clean your coffee mug and go back to your office to grab your coat and bag. Halfway expecting him not to be in the hallway when you come out and lock your door.

Tovar pulls his coat closer around his form, readying himself for the bitter cold. Keys in hand, he opens the door for you and lets you guide him to your car. 

“It’s close.” You promise and he grunts when you walk him clear across the parking lot. 

“You and I have a different interpretation of close, hermosa.” He snorts, breath visible in the cold.

“And no one asked you to walk me out.” You retort, irritated that he could manage to make a sweet gesture seem like a chore. Your car keys are out and you click the key to open the doors, the car already turned on and warming up for the past five minutes. Although you still wonder why he calls you hermosa. “Why do you call me that?” You ask, looking over at him as he rounds his shoulders for warmth. “Hermosa. You didn’t last year.”

Pero narrows his eyes, trying to remember if he called you that or not. “I, uh, you know what it means?” He asks, trying to keep his face as impassive as possible. 

“Yes. It means beautiful.” You respond coolly and Pero wants to curse himself but he remains calm. 

“Well, would you rather me call you fea?” He retorts, a little harshly. Why couldn’t you accept the compliment and let it go? You’re always pushing him.

You stiffen, any chance of civil conversation lost. As if you had one with Tovar. “Sure.” You snarl, snatching your door open and shoving your bag into the passenger seat. “Have a good night, cabrón.” You climb into the car and slam the door, the idea of offering to drive him back across the parking lot vanishing under the fact the man is as bristly as a pissed off porcupine.

Pero sighs, knowing you’re pissed at him but it’s better this way. He’s damaged goods and there’s no way you’d like what he’s capable of, what he likes. He knows you’re a strong, independent woman. You would not be able to handle his…peculiarities. He shivers, making his way back across the parking lot to go back in and finish his grading. His coffee is cold and he curses it but he can’t go back and get another one. He didn’t pay attention when you showed him how to use the machine. He was too busy watching you.

Even though you spent far too much time irritated than you should have the night before, you come into work ready to just ignore the temperamental Spaniard. Tired of dealing with his surliness, you vow to just not speak to him unless you have to during staff meetings. “Morning.” You murmur to William, purposefully not looking at where Pero is pouring over his grade book.

Tovar knows you’re annoyed with him. He even had Garin show him how to use the damn coffee machine so he didn’t have to ask you again. You would’ve made fun of him and his jaw would’ve ticked. You are cocky sometimes, smart as a whip but your occasional arrogance grates on him. “Morning.” William greets you, glancing between you and his friend. “You ready for the upcoming Valentine's dance?” William asks you, knowing you tend to be on the committee for the sweetheart dance that occurs every year. It can get rowdy so all staff are asked to attend.

You huff playfully, rolling your eyes as you set up your own coffee cup. “Oh absolutely, what’s not to love? Watching horny college kids grind on each other and get shit house drunk. Or having them hit on me in horrible fashion.” You shake your head. “One kid last year told me that I needed to spank him and he’d let me dominate him.” That one had made you giggle. “Someone has mommy issues and I will not be the one to exercise them for him.”

William guffaws and Pero snorts in amusement at you dominating anyone. You might be arrogant but when it comes to it, he knows you’re all talk. “Well, the good news is that Tovar here is chaperoning too.” William announces and you and Pero both say “what?” 

William smirks, “didn’t I tell you I put your name on the list?” 

Pero growls at the mischievous look on his friend’s face. “Pendejo.” He growls out his warning.

Your jaw rocks slightly as you fix your coffee with sugar and creamer. “Too bad you are not chaperoning, William.” You murmur, taking a sip and sighing at the perfect taste. “I’m sure the girls would rather moon over you than be glared at like being young is a crime.” You cut your eyes over to Tovar but you don’t say anything to him. “I would have shared my liquor with you.”

Pero rolls his eyes, focusing back on his grades, “it’s not smart to drink in that situation, hermosa. Especially around those stupid college boys. You know they all jerk off over you in their dorm rooms. You should be careful.” He warns you, having heard the comments and he hates the fact that he wanted to shut their mouths.

You grit your teeth, wanting to snap at him that you aren’t the idiot that he thinks you are. You never drink during the fucking party. “Thanks Daddy, I’ll keep that in mind.” You keep your voice sugary sweet before you turn on your heels and march out of the break room.

Fuck, Pero’s cock twitches and he is glad to be sitting down as you stride out of the room. His eyes focus on your ass as you storm out of the room. “She needs to be put in her place.” Pero grumbles and William grins, knowing that his friend doesn’t mean that in the way it sounds. 

“Sure thing, man. You need to just tell her what you want.” William says, grabbing his coffee and making his way to his office. Pero rolls his eyes at his friend, knowing he’s messing with him. He should go and take his name off of the chaperone list but he won’t. He knows he needs to go and look out for you.

All week you’ve been giving Tovar the silent treatment, not that the man cared or even noticed. He was too busy being flustered by the new grading system that they put in place. Which you secretly snickered about since you’ve had no problem putting it in use, finding the system easy to use. Now though, you can’t avoid him. The dance is about to start and you look around at all the students starting to pour into the space. Your own dress is a little flirty, a red wrap number that made you feel slightly better about being single for yet another year. The black lingerie underneath was for yourself since you had no one to show it to. Tovar walks up to you and you can’t resist holding out your insulated cup to him. “Vodka?” You offer, knowing damn well that it’s water.

Pero knows you better than that. You look like a heartbreaker in that red dress and he knows half the boys in this room will be jerking off thinking about you later…himself included if he’s being completely honest. William is glaringly absent tonight, taking his wife on a date. “I can’t let the General down.” William joked with Pero, using the playfully nickname for his wife. 

“You look beautiful.” Pero says, wanting to give you a compliment.

You blink at him for a few seconds, sure that you’ve misheard him. Pulling back the cup, you bite your lip, flustered by the compliment. “Thanks….” You murmur. “You look, uh, good too.” You offer, seeing what all the girls are talking about. His dark slacks and maroon shirt look good, fitted to his broad frame and he’s slicked his hair back. The scar over his left eye makes him seem even more dangerous now.

Pero tries to not react, just shoves his hands in his pockets while you stand there, watching the young adults grind sloppily against each other while hip hop music plays out. “They call this shit music?” Pero scoffs, turning to look at you again. “You got a date after this?” He asks, wondering if the black lace he spots under the wrap dress is for someone he doesn’t know about.

“If eating pizza on my couch while watching a shitty romcom by myself counts as a date.” You joke, before you turn the question around. “How about you? You look like you’re going out on the prowl after this. Does the grumpy, foreboding professor have a date?”

Tovar smirks, shaking his head. “Why? Would you be jealous if I did?” He teases, pleased that you don’t have a date. He rocks on his feet, trying to get with the beat but it’s nothing like the easy listening radio he has on in his car. 70s and 80s tunes to enjoy and actually hear the lyrics unlike this nonsense. The club music is what makes him feel ancient.

Rolling your eyes, you scoff playfully. “Why would I be jealous? You hate me, that’s clear.” It hurts because you’ve never actually done anything to him beyond trade barbs, but that was life. “If you have a date, maybe you can get laid and not be such a cabrón tomorrow.” One kid stumbles nearby, capturing your attention as you try to determine if the guy is already plastered, but it seems like it’s more that he’s clumsy than anything so you relax. Taking a sip of water, you watch all the kids having fun, starting to move your hip slightly to the beat.

"I never said I hated you." Pero huffs, not turning to look at you as he watches the kids grinding and getting way too close but it's college so he doesn't give a fuck. "I don't hate you." He adds, turning to look you in the eye. "I find you...complicated."

“Complicated….” You raise a brow and wonder why he thinks you’re more complicated than any other woman or person on the planet. “Sorry for being complicated.” You feel oddly judged and for some reason it hurts. Why you care what Tovar thinks of you, you don’t know. “I am just trying to navigate a world that is still severely male dominated and not be walked over professionally.”

“You are incredible at your job. You allow silly things to distract you. Like the emotions of the students. You’re there to teach, not to nurture. This isn’t kindergarten, they are old enough to manage their feelings. You are smart, strong…sexy.” Pero reveals, turning his gaze back to the crowd, “it’s frustrating to see you not reach your full potential because you hold yourself back. You could be the head of the department in a couple of years. You have the potential. You need to stop dating those fools that upset you and focus on yourself, on what’s important to you. Or find a partner who helps you get where you need to go.” He finishes his speech, knowing this is possibly the most he’s ever said to you but he means every word. You are incredible and it frustrates him how you don’t focus and reach your potential. You allow yourself to be distracted. He’s overheard you telling the women about your failed dates, how lackluster they were in and out of bed.

Your jaw drops, shocked to have heard an almost impassioned speech from the man who used grunting as a form of communication. “It’s easy for you to say ‘find a partner’.” You snort. “I’ve yet to find a man who can be dominant and yet also agree that my life shouldn’t revolve around him. That every night I shouldn’t be kneeling on the floor waiting for him with his dinner ready.” You had a need to be taken care of, to submit, but never found a man worthy of it. “And don’t tell me to try the BDSM clubs around here, all of them think it’s some 50 Shades roleplay.”

Pero’s eyes widen, eyebrows raising at the words that just came out of your mouth. You’re submissive. Something he wouldn’t have guessed considering how strong willed you are. “Yeah? You’re looking for a modern dom?” Pero leans closer so he can whisper in your ear. “Someone who treats you as an equal outside of the bedroom and someone who treats you like the needy little whore you are in the bedroom?” He knows you could slap him but he’s willing to take the chance.

His words send a shiver through your entire body, making your cunt clench deliciously as you imagine Pero growling orders at you, at just that pitch. You inhale softly, turning to look at him. Your lips are inches away from his but you can’t kiss him, he’s your co-worker. “Too bad there’s nothing modern about you, Tovar.” You whisper back. “I think you would have been good at it.”

Pero smirks, seeing the way your pupils dilate, “just because I’m not a fan of technology and the social bullshit that brings doesn’t mean I’m a man who expects a woman to run around after me. I don’t want a housewife, I want a partner. I want someone who lets me own them in the bedroom but stands beside me in the classroom. I don’t want a mouse, I want a woman who knows what she wants and understands me. Don’t judge me by my teaching methods, hermosa.”

It’s true that you have judged him by his teaching methods, sure that he is just as archaic as they are. “So don’t judge me for being tech savvy. Just because I use our new grading system and am perceived to be a strong woman doesn’t mean I don’t want to be spanked until I cry and then have my clit rubbed while being told I’m a good girl.”

Pero’s nostrils flare and he stares at you, eyes darkening as he imagines how sweet your cries would be. The mercy you’d beg for when he spanks you. The way you’d moan his name when he finally gives you what you want. “If you want that, I can provide that. All you need to do is be waiting at my office door after the party is over. If I stand here any longer, I’m going to drag you off to my classroom and fuck you on my desk and I’m sure neither of us want to jeopardise our careers for our baser instincts. I’ll be on the other side of the room. If you’re not outside my office after, I’ll understand and have no hard feelings. If you are there, I’ll take you to my house, tie you to my bed and edge you until you’re begging to cum. Then I’ll make you cum until you beg me to stop.” He promises, whispering in your ear and letting his breath wash over your cheek before he pulls back and strides across the room, discreetly adjusting his semi.

Fuck. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire and your clit is throbbing as you think about what he just said to you. Imagining how good it would feel to finally have a man take control and let you submit like you need to. You hastily take a sip of your water, amazed how he looks so unaffected by what he just proposed. He looks bored, or angry. Biting your lip, you look at your watch, a few hours left for the party and you already wish they were over.

Pero stands on the other side of the room, sipping his water and he keeps an eye on the college kids who are basically dry humping at this point. He snorts and glances around until he sees a senior walk over to you, holding his hand out. Pero clenches his jaw, eager to see what your reaction is.

You hesitate before you take Brian’s hand. He’s one of your students who has finally started to socially interact, the kid had never wanted to go to any dances when he was younger. Slowly coming out of his shell in your classes, you know you can’t turn him down for a dance. “Surprised to see you aren’t here with Tara.” You murmur as the two of you move out to the dance floor.

Pero just watches for now, holding back, but he’s clenching his jaw and his fists, hating how this kid gets to hold you. He makes it about half way through the song before he’s striding across the dance floor, dodging the grinding kids until he’s tapping on the shoulder of Brian. “Can I cut in?” He asks gruffly.

Brian instantly drops your hand, eyes wide at the sight of the fiercely stern medieval studies professor. Brian had admitted that while he made it through his class, Tovar terrified him. “A-sure, p-pro-professor.” Brian stutters and you give him an encouraging smile. 

“Go ask Tara to dance, you two are always talking about each other.” You confide with a wink.

Pero grunts when the kid scurries off, no doubt gathering his balls to ask the girl to dance, and he reaches for your hand to pull you closer to him. He knows people are watching but he doesn’t care, his need for you overtaking his logic. “Did you enjoy the dance with the boy, hermosa?”

“It was fun.” You end up immediately breathless over the way he pulls you close with zero hesitation. “He’s a good boy.” You bite your lip and look into Pero’s dark eyes. “Were you jealous of my dancing with him?”

Pero scoffs, “no. I wasn’t jealous. I know that kid can’t give you what you want, what you need, querida. I simply wanted to touch you.” He says with a smirk, suddenly aware of how much you want him when you shiver slightly under his grip. “You’re a needy little one, aren’t you?” Pero says as he leans in closer, not touching your lips or face since it’s still professional but he’s closer than just colleagues.

“Fuck.” You practically whimper the curse, drawn in by the sheer possessiveness in his tone. Licking your lips, you look down at his for a brief second, considering kissing him but you’re sure he wouldn’t want that. “I am.” You confess softly. “It’s been a long time since…”

Pero chuckles, “since someone treated you right and made you cum?” He guesses, “don’t worry.” He reaches up with his free hand to gently grip your chin, “you’ll be satisfied come morning with me. You won’t leave my bed until you are able to walk.”

“Please…” you beg softly, unsure of what kind of title Pero prefers when he is in control. His hand is warm and large, you had never realized how Fucking big his hands are and you want them on your body. “Whatever you want.”

“Better get your things and meet me outside then.” He smirks and lets go of your chin, interested to see how you react and what you do. He is already half hard, glad he didn’t wear tight trousers as he steps away from you when the song ends. “Meet me outside.” He demands, forcing himself to not drag you out of the damn gym now.”

You nod breathless and whine slightly when you realize that you hate his hand moving away from you. How he’s already tapped into your neediness is amazing and you are looking forward to seeing what he can do when you are alone. “Let me- let me get my purse.”

“Good girl.” He murmurs, glancing around and acting like nothing happened when he steps back to go grab his coat from the check. He is ready to show you what he has, what he can do. He wants you to be wrecked.

You’re eager as you collect your purse and your own coat, knowing that you might not know what to expect with Pero. Will he want you to drive to his house or leave your car here? The weekend is completely open and you wonder if this is just a one time thing. A Valentine’s Day fling of sorts

Pero waits patiently by the doors, ignoring the looks from passing students and he inhales sharply when he sees you coming towards him. You want him. It’s clear in the haphazard way you put on your coat. “You ready?” He asks, voice lowering as he glances at the retreating student.

“Do you want me to follow you?” You ask quietly, biting your lip as you look at the students and then back at him. You’re nervous and excited. Anticipation racing through you happily and making your skin tingle. You always thought Pero was attractive, but now that you know he’s a dom? You’re dripping.

“Yes. Follow me.” He orders, walking to the door to open it and the cold makes him shiver as he guides you out into the parking lot and to your car. His hand cups your jaw and he rubs your lower lip with his thumb. “I’ll see you at my place.” He says, gesturing to his car.

This is insane. You are following Pero to his house so he can fuck you. It’s not like you have ever been there; or even kissed the man. Still, you climb into your car and follow him as you both leave the campus and start towards an older, residential section of the college town.

Pero is eager, gripping the steering wheel tight as he makes his way to his house, watching you in the rear view mirror to make sure he doesn’t lose you. He is eager, cock hardening in his pants as he imagines you spread out on his bed, tied to his headboard. Tonight has not gone how he expected, he expected to be heading home alone but he’s so ready to make you moan his name. When he pulls into his driveway and parks in his garage, he gets out of the car to wait for you, giving you a moment.

Climbing out of your car, you have come up with a few things to talk about. First being your safe words and hard limits. This is basically his audition, you told yourself about a thousand times. It will be disappointing if he’s the same as all the others, but you will just tell him that you’re not interested in a repeat performance.

Pero guides you inside, taking your coat and purse and leaving them by the front door. “Come sit.” He orders, gesturing to his sofa after he hangs up his own coat. “You want something to drink? Water? Tea?” He offers, a little nervous but nerves always help him in this situation. He knows this is an audition for both you and him and he wants to go over his rules.

“Water would be nice, thank you.” You murmur softly, looking around his house curiously. Pero never invited anyone over, William being the only one who had been inside. It’s surprisingly clean and tidy, with the exception of a study which was obviously used to grade papers and work at home. “Thank you.” Pero hands you the drink and you take a sip of it before you look at him. “I guess we need to talk about rules and expectations?”

He nods, sitting down beside but not super close to give you space if you want to leave. He rubs his hands together, gathering his thoughts. He never speaks without thinking first. “Hermosa-” He says your name, “I am not a traditional Dom. I know that the real world is equal and I would never expect you to be my submissive in public. This is purely for our private pleasure. I don’t believe that women should be submissive in their daily lives. You’re a strong, independent woman and I don’t not wish to change it. However, in my home, in our private time, I want - if you want me - I want you to be pleasured and give pleasure. Be punished for bad behavior and accept that punishment within limits. I am a strict dom, I expect complete obedience unless we use the safe words and of course within your limits. I expect you to submit to me, submit your body to me. Take what I give.” He finishes his speech, knowing you’ll want to respond.

It sounds so perfect the way that he describes it. It’s what you want but a lot of men or dominants want total control. At least the ones you’ve found. You nod. “I use ‘Arina’ for my safe word.” You smile at the use of the Greek goddess of peace in your bedroom activities. It was quite fitting in your mind. “And I don’t like fisting, or any type of ‘waste play’.” You had one man who thought that your hard limits didn’t matter and he could do whatever he wanted. That relationship died quickly.

Pero nods, “then those are my limits too. Let me show you what I like to use and you can decline what you don’t want.” He says, standing up to take your hand and he guides you to his bedroom. He has a special drawer full of his toys and he gently lays them on the dresser. They are all sanitized and ready to go. “Tell me what you don’t want and it goes back in the drawer.” He offers, wanting you both to be on the same page.

You look over the toys, surprised that he had such a variety of things. Especially since he’s a man who hates technology. Your fingers brush over the plug and you raise a brow at him, but he just looks back at you and waits. “Everything looks good.” You admit. “But it’s been awhile since I’ve had a plug in.”

Pero is pleased that you liked all of his toys. He steps back from you, keeping his dark eyes on yours. “I’m going to prepare. Strip down and kneel on my bed, head down. You will only address me as sir from this moment on. Safe word is ‘Arina’ and you are to use it whenever you want. I will stop immediately. Do you understand?” He asks. 

“Yes sir.” You reply and he hums in contentment. 

“I’ll be back.” He strides out of his bedroom, heading to his study so he can strip down to his pants, shoes off and shirt off. Mentally preparing himself for treating you how you want to be treated. This isn’t romantic. It’s not loving. This is what you both need.

The tremble in your fingers as you unzip your dress has nothing to do with fear, and everything to do with anticipation. You want this, you need it with almost pathetic desperation. The mindless fuzziness that you get when you give yourself over to someone else and having your choices taken away. Peeling your dress off, you wish you had asked if you were to leave your lingerie on, but smirk to yourself as you decide to keep it on. Sliding out of your heels and kneeling on the bed wearing the black lace. It will be fun to see how he reacts.

Pero rolls his shoulders, preparing himself, and he walks to his bedroom, opening the door. Fuck, he curses internally, seeing the lace on display on your body. His hackles go up a little, wondering who you wore this for, wanting to ask you, but he likes silence. Silence builds anticipation. He grabs the knife he keeps on the side, flicking it open, and he slowly walks over to the bed. He doesn’t say a word as his hand trails along your shoulder and he grips the band between the cups of your bra, pulling it away from your body so he can cut it off with ease. Your shoulders tense but you don’t say your safe word and he drags the knife through the lace, removing it from your body.

Your teeth clench together, keeping the gasp in that you want to make. He just ruined hundreds of dollars worth of lace but it was sexy. Making your cunt clench as he cuts the panties from your body and tosses the ruined material to the floor. Your head stays down, although your breathing has picked up, shivering slightly.

Pero senses how your breath picks up, and he smirks, tossing the lace aside and he steps back so he can admire your body. Fuck, you’re gorgeous. Beautiful tits. Groomed thatch of curls above your cunt. “Who did you wear this for?” He asks and you remain silent, knowing he hasn’t told you you can talk. “You can speak.” He gives you permission, folding the knife and walking over to the dresser to grab the flogger.

“Myself, sir.” You keep your head down but your voice is steady. “I wanted to feel good.” You had every intention of using your toys and masturbating but things have turned out much better. Pero tuts, and you don’t think that he believes you.

“It deserved to be seen and appreciated but you’ve been naughty. Not telling anyone about what a dirty little girl you are. So I had to do it. And you need to be punished.” He sets the flogger down on the edge of the bed and grabs you, loving fast to drape you over his lap when he sits on the edge of the bed. “Now, you’re going to count. If you stop counting, we start again. Fifteen flogs for being so fucking dirty and hiding it. Remember your safe word, hermosa, and use it if you need to. I won’t be soft.” He wants, grabbing the flogger and bringing it down on your ass cheek.

That first bite of the flogger makes you cry out, eyes watering. “One!” You gasp out, sucking in a deep breath and feeling the pain radiate. 

“One what?” Pero growls and you immediately try again. 

“One, sir.” You amend, hoping that is what he wants.

Pero lets your insolence go, deciding to be kind seeing as this is your first night together. He rubs the skin for a second before he brings the flogger back down.

“Two, sir.” You gasp and he smirks, loving how wrecked you are already. 

“Thirteen more to go.”

It wrecks you. Hit after hit with the flogger. You can tell that while his strikes are sharp, he doesn’t increase intensity like some do, nor does he pull back. Each strike is precisely measured and your skin feels like it’s on fire. Stinging welts raise and you whimper when his hand slides over them. “E-eight, sir!” You know that you have tears sliding down your cheeks, but you don’t try to brush them away. They are for Pero’s pleasure to see after he’s done.

You struggle when he gets to twelve, he can tell by the way you yelp but you don’t give your safe word. He even gives you some extra time between flogs, rubbing the skin. “Fuck. Fif-fifteen, si-sir.” You choke out and he sets the flogger down, grabbing your chin to turn your face towards him so he can admire your tears. “That’s what you get for dancing with that kid. You’re mine. My little whore.” He slaps your sore cheeks with his free hand and you cry out. “You loved this didn’t you?” He teases, sliding his hand between your thighs to find your soaking cunt. “Oh yes. You loved it. Dripping like the slut you are. You want me to touch you?” He asks, teasingly rubbing your folds but not sliding between them.

“Please sir, please.” You sob, your cunt aching already and you want to squirm down on his fingers, force him to touch you but you know that would just delay any relief. His touch, his teasing is making you crave more. “Please touch me, sir.”

He chuckles at your sobs, knowing you seem desperate for him to touch you. His fingers trail along your inner thighs, brushing your folds but never dipping in. He finally smacks your cunt with the palm of his hand, loving how wet it is when he pulls it back. “Lay down on the bed. I don’t want you to move an inch.” He orders, grabbing your hips and sliding you off of his lap to deposit you on the bed. He stands up, reaching for the silk ties with a smirk, his cock aching in his pants but he desperately wants you to walk away from here satisfied and aching for more.

Your chest heaves when you see the silk scarves. You had imagined rope, but this is even better. Biting your lip as you try to obey him, the urge to lift your hands to the headboard nearly makes you move, but you want to be good. Desperate for him to touch you, or better yet, fuck you. You still haven’t even seen his cock but you felt his length against your stomach when he had you over his lap.

Pero works fast, securing the silk to his headboard, opening the slats on the headboard he had made himself. Wanting something custom that didn’t look like what it was used for. He smirks and shuffles to straddle you, still in his slacks. “Arms up, hermosa.” He orders, working fast to secure you to his headboard and when you’re secure, he hums in appreciation. “Do you want me to touch you?” He asks, questioning you while he straddles your thighs.

“Yes sir.” You nod your head quickly, nearly breathless as you pull against the restraints. They are secure but not so tight you are uncomfortable. “I would like you to use me, sir. However you need, whatever you want, sir.” Having a dom that doesn’t allow you to say anything wouldn’t be fun either so you had said a little more than yes or no. How he reacts will tell you how strict he is.

He likes what you say, the look in your eyes has him throbbing so he reaches down to unbutton his pants, pulling his aching cock out. “I want to see what that smart little mouth can do.” He murmurs, shuffling closer until he’s straddling your chest. “Suck.” He demands, looking down at you while he grips his cock, pulling back the foreskin to expose the leaking head.

Shit, he’s uncut. Your mouth waters at the sight of his hard cock and you know there’s no way he’s not going to make you gag. He’s thick and the dribble of precum makes you stick out your tongue like the eager little whore that you are so he can fuck your mouth.

The way you stick your tongue out has him chuckling deeply and he grants you mercy, shifting closer so you can wrap your lips around him. You flick your tongue over the tip and he hisses at how hot and wet your mouth is when you wrap your lips around him, eyes wide and innocent despite you being anything but. He rocks his hips, pushing deeper until he hits the back of your throat, only half way in your mouth.

You groan around him, loving how he fills your mouth. He doesn’t push too deep but he starts rocking his hips so he moves against your tongue. The salty burst of him makes your cunt clench and you try to open your throat even more so you can let him push past your gag reflex.

“Tranquillo.” He murmurs, watching tears spring to your eyes and he wants you to be able to take him down your throat but you can’t push yourself. He gently rocks into your mouth, wanting you to take him like a whore but this sexual relationship is built on mutual trust. He can’t push you too hard, he has to accommodate what you can and can’t do.

You appreciate the fact that he’s not pushing too much too fast. It’s been a long time since you’ve tried to train yourself to deepthroat. You moan softly around him, hoping that the vibration feels good against the head of his cock.

“Mierda.” Tovar grunts, reaching up to grab the edge of the headboard to balance himself so he can push his cock a little deeper. You choke around him but he murmurs, “relax. Take my cock. Be a good girl.” His whispers make you breathe harshly through your nose and he hums in delight when you take him a couple of inches deeper. “You’re doing so well, hermosa.”

Your praise kink makes you preen, eagerly wanting to make him happy. Wanting to give him exactly what he wants. For long minutes, he continues to pump his cock into your mouth at the same methodical attention to detail that he had flogged you, making sure he doesn’t overwhelm you. You appreciate it since your hands aren’t free to signal him or push him away.

He is close to cumming but he doesn’t want to cum down your throat, not tonight. He pulls out of your mouth, a string of saliva keeping you connected until it breaks. “Did so good. You want me to touch you?” He asks, shifting off of you to kneel between your thighs, pushing them apart and back so he can get a good look at your cunt. It’s dripping, a wet spot on the sheets below that makes his cock twitch. “Answer me.” He demands, slapping your thigh.

Your cry is sharp but you immediately nod. “Yes sir.” You gasp out. “Please touch me, sir. I need it.” Your thighs press together slightly, needing some friction but Pero’s body is keeping you from moving too much. “Please touch me, sir.” You beg, not caring that you sound pathetic.

“Since you asked so nicely…” Pero trails off, shifting to kneel between your legs. He pushes them back until your knees are in your chest, pressing them back enough for him to access your cunt and he spits on it, loving the way his saliva slides through your folds. With a hum, he leans in and pushes his tongue deep, loving the tangy taste of you as he widens his jaw to get as much of you as possible into his mouth.

You cry out his name, tugging on your restraints and you regret having him tie you to the bed for the first time. His hair was made for pulling and you want to feel the strands wrapped around your fingers. “Fuck!” You shudder as he flicks his tongue over your throbbing clit. “P-sir!” You almost said his name, but catch yourself while trying to twist yourself so you can see him.

He catches your mistake but he lets it slide. Tonight is an audition, if you want to see him again, he will punish you next time you do it. He sucks your clit into his mouth, fingers digging into your thighs and shifting to slide under your ass, tilting your hips so he can slide his tongue deep inside of you. Pressing his nose against your clit, he hums into your cunt, loving how you sound, how you taste.

It’s raw in the way that he seems to have you. The rasp of his tongue seems to just have the perfect rough edge to it in order to make you want to rock your hips up. You don't, though, you are supposed to let him do what he wants. “So good, sir. So fucking good.” You whine, closing your eyes and letting your nails dig into your palms slightly to ground you.

He can tell you’re close so he pulls back, loving the whine that escapes your lips. He reacts quickly, reaching up to grip your jaw, “are you complaining?” He growls at you, wondering what you’re whining about when he’s the one in charge.

The mewl you make is pathetic and you shake your head, denying that you are complaining. “No sir.” You whisper, wanting to be good for him. It’s hard when it’s been so long since you’ve cum from anything other than your own toys or fingers. It’s harder to let go this time since it has been so long but you want to be good for him.

“Good. Open your mouth.” Pero orders and you comply. He spits into your mouth, wanting you to taste yourself from him without kissing you, and he keeps his grip tight on your jaw. “Swallow like a good girl.” He demands, watching as you follow his order. “Good.” He lets go of your jaw, sliding his hand down your body to squeeze your breast and he pinches your nipple, loving the way you gasp. “You’re so desperate to cum. I bet I could make you cum just by doing this.” He slaps your tit, chuckling at your gasp, then he pinches your nipple again.

Moaning softly, your eyes close, giving yourself over to him. Not wanting to see what he does next. Needing to just experience it. It’s obvious Pero isn’t going to let you cum anytime soon, so you arch up when he slaps your tit again. “Fuck!” You gasp, enjoying the sharp sting of it and then the tug on your nipple that follows. Every since one them shooting straight to your cunt to make you burn even hotter.

God, you’re fucking perfect. Pliable and obedient. Sexy and so fucking needy. He can tell you’re holding yourself back. He chuckles and kisses your chest until he is taking your nipple into his mouth. He has to stretch you out for his cock so he pushes two fingers into your weeping cunt while he bites down on your nipple.

“Fuck, oh fuck.” You whimper, overwhelmed by the stretch of his fingers and his teeth on your breasts. Loving how your walls immediately clench down on h and tries to suck them in deeper. “Yes, so good. Fuck so good.” You pant breathlessly.

He presses his thumb to your clit, pushing a third finger inside of you to stretch you. He pumps them, curling them until you squeal his name. He smirks against your breast in victory, biting down on your other nipple after he kissed across your sternum. “Cum for me, cum and show me what a needy little slut you are. Want you to soak my fingers.” He orders, shifting so he can look at you, thumb rubbing your clit.

Your body immediately responds to the gruff order, stiffening as your cunt locks down around his fingers with a cry of sublime pleasure. The hot squelch of your cum gushes around his fingers as he pumps them into your spasming hole.

Pero works you through it then when you slump against the mattress, he withdraws his fingers and brings them to your mouth. “Taste yourself. Taste how delicious you are.” He orders, pushing his fingers into your mouth before you can decline.

You moan around his fingers, licking them clean over everything. Keeping your tongue twirling around the digits until he is pulling them free from your mouth. “Thank you, sir.” You murmur softly, looking up at him through hazy, satisfied eyes.

Pero hums in contentment at the easy way you react to him, instinctually following his lead. He doesn't have to explain everything, you just know. He shuffles off of the bed, cock still hard, and he walks over to the nightstand to grab a condom. He pushes his pants down, leaving him bare, and he rips the packet to roll the rubber down his cock. Kneeling on the bed, he reaches up to untie your hands from the frame. "Hands and knees. Now."

You move a little sluggishly, the bliss from your orgasm still making your limbs heavy but you turn over. Pushing up to your hands and trying to rock your ass out towards him. Of course Pero would like to fuck you from behind, it’s probably his preferred position. One of control and power. You don’t look over your shoulder because he didn’t give you permission.

Pero caresses your ass, skin still raised from the flogger and he can’t help but slap the skin again, making you cry out. He shifts, reaching down to grip his cock and he pushes into you in one thrust, knowing he’s worked you open enough. Leaning over you, he kisses along your shoulder before he bites down, loving how you whimper.

“Ohhhh fuck,” your head drops between your shoulder blades, gasping as he stretches you out. “You’re so big, sir.” You moan, your walls contracting around him as he holds still inside you.

“Mierda.” He grunts, knowing he could easily blow his load here and now but he won’t. He wants to savor this. You are perfect around him. “You’re so tight, hermosa. Fuck, so good for me. Taking all of it.” He grunts, pushing deeper inside of you as you open up for him, stretching around him and he looks down at your pussy lips. “Fuck.” He hisses.

You want to say his name, but you don’t. Your fingers twist in the sheets under you as you barely resist rocking back. “So good, sir. You feel so big inside me.” You moan, eyes closing at the way he throbs in your cunt. “Please, please move, sir.” You beg Pero, needing him to fuck you stupid. You want to ache like he promised you that you would. 

Pero grabs your hips, fingers digging in, and he starts to fuck you. Hard. He gives no mercy, hammering into you and he nudges your knee with his, spreading you open even more. When you whine and reach back towards him, he grabs your wrists, bringing them together in his hand to both keep you still and control you. “You like this?” He asks and you don’t answer him. “Fucking answer me. You like this?” He repeats with a growl.

“Y-y-yes s-sir!” You squeal, unable to stay upright and falling onto your face as he continues to pound into you. All you can do is take and moan, making your noises muffled slightly by the covers but you love it. You will feel him tomorrow, and probably the day after that. He feels like he’s in your guts and you wish you could see what he looks like as he thrusts into you.

His jaw is clenched, sweat glistening on his forehead as he thrusts into you. He’s not gentle, you don’t want him to be. His free hand squeezes your tits, pinching your nipple and he looks down at you taking his cock again to see your puckered hole clenching. “Fuck.” He groans, leaning down to let his spit drip onto it, pressing his thumb against the skin.

You choke out a sound of surprise but you don’t clench up. Knowing that he is in charge. Instead, you let out a filthy moan as he presses a little harder and rubs, not enough to breach you, but you are panting. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.”

“I’ll fuck you here another time.” He promises, rubbing the skin while his cock pushes deeper, his grip still tight on your wrists as he controls your body. He shifts his thumb to your clit, wanting you to cum, and his wrist turns over once he slides it down your torso so he can rub your bundle of nerves.

You almost choke out that there might not be another time, but you know you are lying to yourself. This is too good and you will put up with his archaic antics if it means that he fucks you like this when you need. Moaning in agreement, you feel your body start to tense up again, getting really to cum. “Sir-“

“Beg for it.” He can tell your close and he wants to hear your sweet cries, your pleas for mercy. Beg me to cum.” He says with each thrust inside of you, his fingers on your clit are unrelenting.

“Please, please, I need to cum.” You sob, his demand unleashing the torrent of babbling. “You’re too good, it’s- it’s too good, I want to cum.” You gasp out, hands flexing as he holds your writers. “Please sir, please please please let me cum, please.”

Usually, he’d pull out and make you writhe but tonight, he wants you to want him, to want to be in his bed again. He’s tortured you enough so he presses his thumb harder against your clit. “Cum for me. Cum for me, hermosa. Cum for me now.” He demands and you cry out, clamping down on his cock. He loves it and within a dozen thrusts, he’s pushing deep and spilling into the condom, your name on his lips as he bends over your body, trapping your hands between you.

You go boneless beneath him, moaning softly as your body relaxes and you try to catch your breath. Even though your entire body is relaxed, now your mind is starting to spin. Wondering if he was pleased and if he wanted you in his bed again. Wondering how this would play out at work, if he had been serious about being able to keep it separate. “It was good.” You mumble quietly.

Pero hums, kissing your shoulder, and he reaches down to grab the base of the condom, slowly pulling out of you. He’s quick to tie it off and toss it in the trash can he keeps in the corner, grabbing his boxers to pull them on, and he walks over to the bed. “It was excellent.” He tells you, “I’m gonna get you some toast and some water and you’re gonna lay here as long as you need to, if you wanna nap, you can nap. I have papers to finish grading.” He tells you, grabbing the cream he keeps in the drawer to rub onto your ass and he grabs the wet wipes to clean you up. “Are your wrists sore?” He asks, pulling the silks out of the slates so he can put them away. You shake your head and he adjusts you to lay you down on his pillows, covering you with the blanket. “I’ll be back.” He promises, walking out of the bedroom and j to the kitchen.

Laying in bed, you wonder if you should go. He is taking care of you, but he has every intention of leaving you here and going to work on his papers. It’s not exactly the aftercare you had been expecting but this isn’t like you are in a relationship. Sliding to the edge of the bed, you realize that you don’t have any underwear or a bra since he cut them off of you. Huffing to yourself, you stand, wincing at the flare of pain and shuffle to the bathroom so you can pee.

Pero knows he should pull you close and wrap around you, tell you how good you were, but he can’t do that again. Last time he let his heart get involved, it got stomped on and he doesn’t have time to nurse wounded feelings. He’s too busy with his work and writing his dissertation. He works in making you toast and turns just as you walk into his kitchen, wincing a little. “You, uh, wanna eat before you leave?” He asks softly, setting the plate down on the table.

“Thanks.” You don’t sit down, your ass still too tender for the hard wooden chair right now. Instead, you give him a smile and pick up the toast to eat it quickly. The sooner you can leave, the better for him apparently. Your dress covers you until you get home, so that’s all that matters and you can shower and decompress on your couch after. “I’ll be quick.”

Pero nods, “take your time. I, uh, I would like to do this again if you want to.” He says, a little nervous that you won’t want him again. Maybe he wasn’t rough enough or maybe he was too rough. He’s anxious and his Dom nature slips aside to reveal the insecure side of him ever since his ex had claimed he wasn’t enough.

“I would.” You admit quietly. “I just don’t want to bother you. So let me know.” He seems hesitant and you wonder if he’s just being polite. “If not, no hard feelings, okay?” It would probably be humiliating, because he knows what type of things you like. He’s been inside you. You swallow another bite of the toast, reaching for the water to take a sip. He’s not said anything and you don’t want to look at him in case he’s unhappy with you. 

“No hard feelings? Did you - did you not enjoy yourself?” He frowns, leaning against the counter and wondering if he’s done something wrong. This is no longer Dom/sub stuff. This is between you and Pero. “I’d love to see you again but…if I was too much…I understand.” He says, a little briskly, feeling like he did satisfy you.

You shake your head, taking another bite of your toast. “It wasn’t too much.” You murmur softly. “It was perfect. It just seems like I didn’t please you.” You finally look up at him. “Since it- you know, I don’t know.” You blow out a sigh. “You just seem eager to get me out of your house. I know this is just- physical, but I just thought….” You shake your head again. “No, you’re right. I should go. It’s better to just keep it strictly, um, dom/sub dynamic outside of work.”

Pero frowns, walking over to you to grip your chin. “It feels like what?” He asks, wanting to know exactly what you’re thinking. He’s confused and he wonders why you’re pushing him away. He thought you had a good time tonight. He doesn’t understand why you want to leave so suddenly. “Do you…tell me what you think, hermosa.” He demands, wanting to know what you want.

You feel almost reassured by the pressure of his fingers gripping your chin and the slightly stern edge to his tone. “I had just thought that this would be us getting to know each other better.” You admit quietly. “Beyond the bedroom. But it’s okay.” You try to nod as if you aren’t having your face cradled. “I understand. This is just how you are.”

“Oh.” Pero frowns, shifting to sit down and he lets go of your chin. “I- I didn’t know if you wanted more or just the sex. Im sorry hermosa. I- I want to know more about you, I do.” He promises, knowing you might get tired of him but he wants to take the risk.

“It’s okay.” You shrug slightly. “If you don’t, that’s okay. Like you said, I should just focus on my work and use this as a release.” He had made it clear he thinks you are too emotional.

Pero feels awkward now and he knows that if he sits there, making conversation, it won’t be authentic. With a sigh, he stands up and takes your empty plate, “did you enjoy tonight?”

“I did, thank you.” Your time is obviously up, and you wonder if he’s always been this way. Instead of asking, you turn to start walking towards your purse. “I think I will go home and soak in a bath because you did it right.” You praise him. “Have a good night Pero.”

He nods, following you towards the front door and he opens it when you get your purse. “Drive safe.” He murmurs, “call me when you get home.” He demands, reaching for your arm, “I don’t text so call me. Let me know you’re safe.”

You snort, not commenting but thinking that it’s very Pero to not text. Instead, you nod and walk out to your car. Pero doesn’t close the door, he stands in the doorway and watches as you get in your car and back out of his driveway. You don’t live terribly far away, only about ten minutes and you can’t wait to soak in that bath.

Pero shuts his door and walks into his bedroom to change the top sheet, wanting to keep everything clean and tidy. When his cell doesn’t ring, he frowns and decides to call you. “Hello?” You answer and he grunts, “you didn’t call me to tell me you got home safe.”

“Sorry.” You don’t really think it’s a big deal, you are an adult. If you had left the party and driven home, you wouldn’t have called him. “I got home and got in the bath and got caught up reading.” You are out of the bath now, dressed for bed and honestly ready to sleep. “But I’m home and I’ll see you on Monday.” 

Pero isn’t happy with your answer, partly wishing you had stayed with him so he could’ve run you a bath but you’ve made it clear where you stand. “Okay. I, uh, I’ll see you Monday. Goodnight, hermosa.” He murmurs, hanging up the phone and shoving it on his desk as he runs his fingers through his hair. It’s obvious you want sex and only sex, and he doesn’t disagree with that. It’s less complicated, especially considering your roles. He tries to continue grading his papers but fails, deciding to get into bed himself.

Your weekend passes too quickly. Checking some of your lessons for the coming week only takes an hour or so, but then you are still engrossed in your book and laundry, cleaning your place, meal prepping for the week. You had halfway anticipated Pero calling you again, but your phone stayed silent. So you did what you needed to, replayed that night with your wand pressed to your clit.

When Pero comes into work on Monday morning, he struggles to figure out the coffee machine but gets there in the end, sipping the hot brew as you come in to get your own coffee. William looks between you, sensing something is different but he can’t tell. “Morning.” Pero finally breaks the silence, looking over at you, ignoring the way William raises his eyebrows.

“Good morning.” You decided that you weren’t going to try to flirt or be coy with Pero. He wouldn’t appreciate that sort of thing. “William, you missed a nice dance for the kids.” You shift your eyes over to his friend. “Hopefully you treated Mae Lin to a good night out?”

William nods, “of course. We are working on baby number two.” The Irishman blushes a little and Pero is pleased for his friend. He knows that William and Mae Lin have something special. You prepare your coffee and Pero is pleased that you are okay, you seem to have recovered from his flogging. “Did you enjoy the dance?” William teases. 

Pero rolls his eyes, “if you enjoy those horny bastards grinding on each other like it’s mating season.”

The fact that he didn’t even enjoy dancing with you or taking you home annoys you. Will, by all accounts, is Pero’s best friend and he is pretending like it didn’t happen. You snort and turn around from the coffee bar with a roll of your own eyes. “Yes, Tovar is much more suited for an eleventh century brothel.” You snort. “Pay a few coins to take care of his needs and then leave to continue selling his sword.” You’ve always thought Pero would have been a mercenary if he had lived in those times, he’s talked about their struggles enough and you had even teased him about the full armor he has that is a replica of the time. LARPING is apparently not something Pero Tovar does, although you had enjoyed teasing him about it. “Don’t expect him to admit to enjoying anything that isn’t torturing his students or reminiscing about the ‘good ole days’.” Pushing away from the counter, you stride towards the door, annoyed with yourself for caring. “I need to get ready for my first class.”

Pero watches you go with a little longing in his eyes, he didn’t want to disrespect you by talking about you in front of William. He doesn’t want to have the other professors overhear and gossip about you. He stands up, without a word, and strides out of the break room and down the hall to your office. 

“Bye then, arsehole!” William shouts from the break room but Pero ignores him, quickly moving to open your office door. 

“You’re mad at me.” He declares as he steps inside and shuts the door behind him.

“Nope.” You pop the p of your answer and don’t bother looking up at him. Staring at your computer screen and checking your emails. “I am getting ready for my class, like you should be doing.” This is what he wanted, wasn’t it? You are a little hurt, but you’ll get over that. You and Pero weren’t friends before you let him fuck you, so it stands to reason that he wouldn’t let you become more friendly after.

He huffs, placing his hands on his hips, “I didn’t think you’d want me to tell William what we did this weekend while other people were listening. Even us dancing together would be off brand for us. I- I can’t stop thinking about how you looked, how you felt, how you tasted. I want you again. I want you in my bed again.” He reveals, “I don’t want to forget that it happened because I want to do it again.”

That makes you look up at him, jaw dropped because of the sheer emotion in his voice. It’s impassioned. “You didn’t call.” You murmur softly, admittedly hurt that he hadn’t reached out at all. “So I thought you changed your mind.”

Pero sighs, “I didn’t call because I didn’t think - I wanted you to recover. I wasn’t easy on you and I didn’t think you could take more than one session. Let me fuck you again. I want this to be…I want to continue doing this.”

You lean back in your chair and watch him for a moment. You aren’t in the dom and sub roles right now and Pero shifts uneasily, like he’s uncomfortable. “Okay.” You decide after a moment. “Tonight? Or do you want to leave it for the weekends?”

“Now.” Pero demands, reaching over to flick the lock of your office door. “I want you now. Stand up, take your panties off under that dress and place your hands on the desk.” He demands, working on his belt buckle to pull it through the loops. He is half hard just seeing you sitting there, remembering how you were in his bed when he was inside of you.

The fact that he wants you now makes your cunt clench. It’s not exactly the dynamic that you had at his house, but it’s still forceful and it makes you stand up and quickly pull your skirt up so you can strip down your panties and kick them off. Watching him as you place your hands on the desk and wait to see what he’s going to do.

He grabs his belt, looping it in his hands and he steps closer to you. “Safe word.” He murmurs and you say it clearly, making him hum. “If you want me to stop, slam your hand on the desk twice.” He says, “open your mouth.” You follow his order and he places the leather strap in your mouth, working to secure it around your head, the rest of the leather hanging down your neck. “I need you to be quiet.” He says, reaching for the metal ruler you keep on your desk. He grabs it and brings it to your cheek, slapping you gently with it. “Be a good girl for me.” He murmurs, “then you can go teach your little class.” He slides the ruler down your chest, brushing your nipples with the edge.

You shudder, both from the edge of the ruler catching on your breast through the bra and your shirt, and the sexiness of the entire situation. You aren’t going to be able to sit in your office and think of anything else from now on. Moaning quietly against the leather, you close your eyes and breath through your nose. Already starting to drip, you push your ass out slightly to entice him.

He trails the ruler down your stomach, glad your skirt is pushed up, and you keep your hands on the desk. “Don’t move. Do not make a sound.” He growls into your ear, bringing the ruler down to your cunt, pushing it between your folds until the cold metal touches your clit.

Inhaling sharply, it’s so hard to not move as he does what he wants to you. Making your walls flutter and your stomach curl in pleasure as he rubs the metal against your clit, warming the metal up with your hot cunt. You try to steady your breathing, but it hard when all you want to do is beg him to fuck you.

He rubs your clit with the metal ruler, pulling it away and you whine around the leather, but he doesn’t make you wait because he brings the ruler down on your clit, slapping it with the metal.

Your small cry is muffled by the leather between your teeth, making sure no one walking past the office knows what’s happening in here. It makes you even wetter to know that he would do these types of things outside the comfort and safety of his own space. “Fuck.” You pant, words inaudible and look over at him, loving the dark lust swirling in his eyes.

He slaps your clit again, loving how you moan against the leather, and he sets the ruler down on the desk. “Stay there.” He demands, working on unbuttoning his pants to pull his hard cock out. He reaches for his wallet, pulling out the condom he keeps in there and he tosses the wallet onto his desk, the condom wrapper falling to the floor, and he rolls it down quickly. “Fuck. You’re dripping. You like this, don’t you? Being my little whore at school.” He murmurs, nipping the skin behind your ear as he grips his cock. He kicks your ankle, spreading your legs wider, and he pushes inside of you in one thrust, knowing you don’t have a lot of time.

Your back arches in pleasure and pain from the intrusion. Having him spear up into you forcefully takes your breath away and you gasp behind the belt. That beautiful ache returns almost instantly and you are pushing back against him desperately. He’s right, you do love this happening right here, love the thrill of being in your office. In public.

He loves how reactive you are but he needs you to cum quickly so he pushes you forward, pressing you against your desk, onto your papers. “Hands stay on the desk.” He orders, thrusting into you. It’s rough and it’s dirty, your moans muffled and he grabs the ruler again, pushing it between you to rub your clit. “So needy for my cock, you’ll even take it in your office. Such a good little whore for me.” He coos into your ear, slapping your clit with the ruler again.

You whine, clenching around him and rolling your eyes back when he slaps your clit again. It’s feeding into all your needs right now and every thrust strikes against that spot inside you that makes your legs shake. The desk is sturdy enough that it doesn’t move but the container of pens and markers shake and jolt on the surface and the slap of his thoughts against yours becomes audaciously loud.

He fucks you hard and fast, needing you to fall apart around him before you’re late to your first class. He slaps your clit again, “cum for me, hermosa. Cum on my cock like a good girl.” He orders, pushing deep inside of you.

It doesn’t take long to obey him. Five hard thrusts later, you are stiffening up. Your cunt locking down around him and there’s a very serious concern that you might ruin his pants with the flood of cum that gushes out of you. Your cry against the wet leather is louder than before but you don’t care, riding out your high before you slump against the desk and pant.

Pero tosses the ruler down on the desk, grabbing your hips to keep you still as he works you through your orgasm and heads into his own. “Mierda, mi puta. I- fuck. Me voy-” He cuts himself off with a grunt as he buries his cock deep and fills the condom. Your name a groan on his lips.

You know there won’t be any aftercare this time, not where you are. You whine when he’s pulling out of you after a few seconds and you push yourself up. Watching him remove the condom and tie it off as you reach back to unbuckle his belt from around your head. Now you need to straighten your appearance to get ready for your class.

Pero takes the belt, admiring your teeth marks, and he quickly tucks himself away and puts the belt back on. “I want to see you tonight at my place.” He murmurs, stepping towards you to grip your chin, “I want you to be in my bed again.”

You hum quietly, looking into his eyes and you want to ask if it’s just for another session but you don’t. You nod. “Okay. I’ll come to your house after my last class.” You agree, certain that he would send you home after.

Pero leans in to kiss your forehead before he steps away from you, adjusting his shirt and tie before making his way to his office to get what he needs for his first class. Tonight, he wants to treat you properly, show you how good he can be. This is purely sex but for some reason, the lines are already blurring. His dislike for your modern ways ebbing away and he finds himself liking you more and more.

You giggle slightly to yourself as you finish getting ready for your class. You had gone to the Valentine’s dance for your college because you were bored and there was nothing else to do. Now you are walking into your class with a sore cunt, a dom, and a date for him to make you cum again. Maybe Pero isn’t so bad after all.

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