#(i mean there's more text than art so that's one part of it but. but) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rose-tea-and-strawberries · 6 months

Text

your lipstick stain is a work of art

Masterlist

Giving Epel, Leona and Ace a DIY Maison Margiela Kiss Shirt

Warnings: Reader is female

I may have gotten a bit carried away in Leona’s part 😅

EPEL FELMIER

After listening to another one of Epel’s rants on Vil’s strict training regimen, you came up with a bright idea. Even though you couldn’t see his face due to the way he was spooning you, you could tell from how his rough country accent would get more and more prominent that he was more than annoyed - and thankfully, you knew the best way to cheer him up.

“Hey, Epel,” you piped up, turning your head to look right at him, effectively cutting through his tirade, “that new makeup set that your Dorm Leader gave you? You haven’t opened it yet, right?”

“Uh no,” he scrunched his nose up in confusion, “A hate the stuff.”

“Then can I have the lipstick, please?”

“Um, sure? I mean, I’m not gonna use it. But why?”

“You’ll see…”

….

The next day, you set your plan into motion. Armed with the sleek black lipstick box that your boyfriend was more than happy to hand over to you and a crisp white shirt you had purchased from Sam’s, you began working on what you supposed was your magnum opus. Once you had finished, ten minutes later, you sent a quick text to Epel, telling him to meet you in your dorm for a ‘surprise’.

When he arrived, he was confused to find you standing at your doorway, dark red tinting your innocent smile, with your hands behind your back.

“For you,” you chirped, still smiling as you handed him a neatly wrapped box.

He took it from you slowly and cautiously, suspicious eyes not leaving your face as he searched for any hint of deception. You’ve never given him any reason to be wary of you, or to think that this might all be a prank, but considering you’re best friends with a certain red haired troublemaker, it didn’t hurt to be heedful.

It was light, very light. He shook it but apart from faint rustling, he couldn’t hear anything that could clue him into what it was. He raised an eyebrow, “what’s in here, doll?”

“You’ll just have to open it and see.”

He ripped open the wrapping paper, letting the torn pieces fall to the floor as he found himself holding a box. Uncovering the lid, he looked down to find a white shirt, carefully folded inside, its collar and entire front covered in lipstick marks - lipstick marks that happen to look suspiciously similar to the shade that you currently wore on your lips right then…

Noticing how his surprise had frozen him, his eyes wise as he appeared entranced at the sight before him, you say, “do you like it? I figured that -”

You didn’t even get to start your explanation, let alone finish it, as you were engulfed by the comforting fragrance of fresh apples and his lips were pressing on yours like his life depended on it and your back was flush against the wall of your entrance passage. One of his hands clutching the box protectively to his chest and the other flat against the wall right next to your head. You close your eyes and melt against him, letting your arms. When the need for air became more and more apparent, he reluctantly separated himself from you, eyes blazing.

“You have no idea what you do to me.”

“So does that mean you like it?”

His answering kiss said more than enough.

….

You should’ve known that your little surprise would come back to bite you. As cherubic as your boyfriend appeared to be, he was nothing but a demon underneath those soft lavender locks and wide doe eyes.

You were reminded of this the next morning when he strolled into your shared homeroom class, right in the middle of registration.

“Mornin’ sir, sorry I’m late.”

Beside you, you could hear Ace and Deuce choke on their breaths. The air of the room seemed to be submerged in freezing cold water as you could feel your fellow classmates freeze in their seats, a few of them whisper-shouting expletives of shock. Bewildered by the sudden change in atmosphere, you look up from your book, only to feel the rest of the world still around you and all the blood leave your face.

Standing at the entryway of the classroom was Epel Felmier, his posture upright and proud. He had abandoned his blazer, waistcoat and bowtie, and instead of his usual Schoenheit-approved expensive lacy high-collared shirt, he donned your gift, wearing his lipstick kiss stains like badges of honour. He waltzed into class bearing the grin of a cat that got the cream. His smug aura was blinding and his confidence was so corporeal that he appeared to be triple his actual size.

“Mr Felmier,” Professor Crewel sternly asked him, years of teaching seeming to prevent him showing any sign of fluster, his eyes ignited with frustration, “what is the meaning of this?”

“My girl happens to be an artist, Professor,” Epel replied easily, “As a student of the dorm that prides itself in appreciating beauty, it would be rude and becoming to not show off her masterpiece.”

All at once, the entire class turned to look at you, their gazes searing, as you stared straight down at your desk, mentally calculating how hard you’d need to bang your head against it for you to end up in a coma.

Once the Dorm Leader and Vice Dormleader of Pomefiore find out about Epel’s little stunt, you knew that you would be a goner.

“Henchman, what is he talking about?” Grim demanded.

“Wow, Y/N,” Ace looked at you like you had suddenly grown three heads, “didn’t take you to be that type.”

“And what type would that be?” Deuce instantly came to your defence.

“ENOUGH!” Professor Crewel’s pointer smacked down against his desk, effectively silencing everyone yet again, “Mr Felmier, get to your seat at once. I expect to see you in detention this lunch break for violating the dress code. Rest assured, I will be taking this up with your Dorm Leader. And Miss L/N-” he turned to you with his sharp gaze, whilst Epel didn’t even look the slightest bit perturbed at facing his Dorm Leader’s impending wrath, “please stay behind after the bell rings. I have something to discuss with you.”

“Oh~” Ace muttered under his breath, “looks like papa’s angry.”

Needless to say, Epel managed to spend the rest of the day wearing that shirt. Throughout the entire time, you could feel the other students give you looks ranging from puzzled to amused to knowing.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

“Hmmm,” Leona sighs, amusement colouring the guttural resonance, as you press another drawn-out kiss under the sharp curve of his jaw, “not that I’m complaining, herbivore, but what’s with the sudden boldness?”

“Well,” you hum languidly, looking at the lipstick stain you left behind - another one to add to the growing collection you had scattered on his cheeks and lower face - moving your mouth lower to his pulse point and letting your lips linger on his skin before flicking your eyes up to look right into darkened green irises, “considering how you always make a big deal over me wearing your scent, I figured that I’d return the favour - let me mark my territory for a change.”

The smugness radiating off of him was palpable and you ignored the deep, satisfied rumble of his chest as you busy yourself with printing your crimson pattern onto the length of his neck, going lower and lower with every press.

To be honest, finding yourself straddling his lap from his seat at the edge of his bed, your arms draped over his shoulders and his hands resting firmly onto your lower back, was not exactly what you expected when you entered the Dorm Leader’s bedroom to wake him up for his Spelldrive Club, but it definitely wasn’t an unwelcome change. And you certainly weren’t lying when you made that jab at his shamelessly obvious leonine instincts - the innate predatory need to broadcast to the entire school that you were not to be messed with - with the way he would nose and nuzzle at your neck until he was satisfied, or drape his too large blazer over your shoulders before sending you off to class. Though, if you were being candid, you had the suspicion that his behaviour was less to do with his species and more to do with Leona himself. After suffering through decades of denial, him finally being given what he covets so freely and willingly results in him wanting nothing to latch on and never let go, to hold the object of his affections in his arms to keep and protect and cherish. Of course, you could never complain as for all that he seemed to take from you, he also gave to you tenfold. It takes a great deal of trust for a lion to bare his neck (‘both literally and figuratively,’ you think as your mouth presses against the skin under his ear) and a lion as proud and closed-off as the second prince of Sunset Savanna? A feat like that was almost inconceivable. Even now, his tail is coiled around your leg like a vine of ivy as he let you do as you pleased with absolutely no questions asked.

When you once again come back up from yet another kiss, Leona uses this opportunity to cup your face with his hand, using just the right amount of pressure to to grip onto your jaw and rub his thumb over your cheek. His eyes, though still gleaming with want, melts into something more soft. As a master of strategic brilliance, his proficiency in self control is beyond admirable yet whenever you’re near, he finds himself unraveling. And he loves every second of it. His drinks up the sight of you: the flush of your cheeks, the black of your eyes, the smudged rouge of your lips that he smears even further with the edge of his thumb.

Oh Great Seven, you're perfect.

“Would you look at that,” he murmurs, “my little herbivore’s got a set of claws on her. We’ll go on then.”

You smile back at him before resuming back to your original position.

You run your right hand down from his shoulders, not stopping your mouth's work as your fingers slide down his chest, swiftly and seamlessly hooking and undoing the buttons of his waistcoat. Grabbing onto the lapels of the honey golden material, you deftly push it downwards off of him, exposing the white expanse of his clothed torso as it falls limply onto his elbows. You then kissed the area near his clavicles, where the first button of his shirt had been left undone so that your lipstick stretched over both his tanned chest and the placket. Seeing the glaringly obvious red mark left behind on the pristine white fabric gave you an idea and before you knew it, you pressed dragging kiss after dragging kiss over the collar and upper side of the front of his shirt.

You managed to only get to above his breast pocket before your boyfriend was dragging you back up and collided your lips together at a speed so fast it left you reeling. Before you could fully compute the change in direction, pounding knocks on the door snapped you out of your vertigo.

“OI, BOSS,” came the annoyed yells of Ruggie, “You were supposed to be at the club meeting five minutes ago. Quit foolin’ around with the prefect and get over here!”

Leona let out an irked growl but he made no move to shift his position, even when the incessant knocking failed to cease, “Okay! Okay! I’m coming. Jeez!”

“Wait,” you say as you get off his lap and watch him stand up, lipstick stains and all, pick up his duffle sports bag and head to the door, “are you leaving? Like that?”

“Why not?” was his unbothered reply.

Now that the spell over the room had been successfully broken and clarity and common sense once again seized control from the haze, the full impact of your actions dropped into your stomach like a lead anvil. With it being mid afternoon, the Savanaclaw common area, let alone the corridors of the school, would be in high traffic. The thought of the other students (and seven forbid the teachers) seeing him covered in marks and knowing exactly who put them there fills you with pure mortification, sending blood rushing upwards and making your cheeks burn.

“What’s this?” he turns around and makes his way over to you, towering over you and smirking down at your abashed and frozen figure, eyebrow raised, “where did my brave little herbivore go? Don’t tell me she’s all talk after the show she just put on.”

It’s settled. You can never show your face around NRC again. Your only options now are to beg Malleus to smite you with lightning or to pull an Idia and live the rest of your life as a hermit.

He slowly leans down and places a tender kiss on your forehead, whispering over your skin, “Don’t think that this is over. When I come back, I’ll show you how territory is truly marked. You better be prepared.”

He then saunters off, his bag slung over his shoulder, as he opens the door without a care in the world. You can faintly hear Ruggie’s deep inhale before a “WHAT THE HELL?!” fills your ears.

You should’ve known that you could never one up a predator.

(yes, I know that realistically it would be impossible for one application of lipstick to last that long but let me have this)

ACE TRAPPOLA

It was when you heard the bathroom door slam shut, followed by the sound of your shower head spraying water, that the idea came to you. Knowing Ace, he would spend at least ten minutes in your shower since he liked to make use of the privacy and alone time that Ramshackle provides and his dorm denies. Or at least, that's his go-to excuse when asked why he spends more time sleeping over at your dorm instead of the one he was sorted into.

Sending a playful smile to the door that separated the two of you, you slowly and quietly got out of bed so as to not disturb Grim (who still insisted on sleeping next to you, even after Ace became a staple in your life. You agreed with him, despite Ace’s annoyed refutes, simply stating that Grim and you would sleep together before your relationship and you weren’t planning on stopping that) and made your way to your closet where you kept one of Ace’s school shirts to prepare you for the occasion where he forgets to bring one. You then rustled through your drawers and pulled out a cylindrical stick of lipstick and got to work. Thankfully you had finished applying and kissing his shirt by the time he was done showering and was dressed and ready so when he entered your bedroom and was greeted by the sight of you wearing a mischievous grin, alarm bells started ringing.

“Hey, babe?” he asks with trepidation, “what do you have behind your back?”

“Nothing,” you answer lightly.

“Oh really?” and he swipes behind you but you dodge in the nick of time. Luckily for him, his fine-tuned basketball reflexes put him at an advantage and in no time at all, he’s got you pinned on your bed, with him sitting on top of you, legs straddled on either side of your hips, and you lying beneath him. In his hands he triumphantly holds your surprise. He unfurls the white fabric and holds it out in front of him with - and then almost drops it onto your face as red blooms across his nose and cheeks when he realises what he’s looking at

He looks at the shirt then at you then the shirt and you in quick succession, taking note as to how your lips appear to be the same shade as the marks on his shirt.

Scrambling together and haphazardly picking up what’s left of his bearings, he attempts to throw on his usual cocksure smirk but his still cherry red countenance betrays his flustered visage, “so what’s this, then.”

“A shirt,” you respond.

“Looks like you made a lot of effort with this, sweetheart,” he muses, his eyes bright and jaunty, “are you so obsessed with me that you need to mark me up?”

“I thought it would be a fun prank. But seeing that you don’t seem to like it-” you make a move to grab at it but Ace holds both of your wrists down with one hand.

“Hey, who’s saying I don’t like it?!” he argues defiantly, “this has got to be the best present I’ve ever gotten.”

“Really?” you ask, eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Really,” he nods and then looks down at you mischievously, “why don’t I show you how much I like it?”

He then leans down and captures your lips with his and for the nth time of his life, Grim wishes that you were still single.

BONUS FOR ACE BECAUSE I LOVE HIM:

Ace then spends the next ten minutes trying to convince you to do the same to his basketball jersey

You know this boy decided to wear that shirt to the next Unbirthday party, relishing in his dormmates’ stares, the sound of crashing silverware, and the sights of your mortified expression, Cater’s phone recording everything and Riddle’s reddening face.

Poor Deuce goes bright pink and refuses to look at you for the next hour.

Honestly the lecture was so worth it. The collar and heaping and heaping of chores, not so much but he would totally do it again.

Yeah, it turns out that wearing a lipstick stained shirt isn’t technically against the rules and our resident rule-breaker definitely exploits that loophole. You know that rule where you have to wear pink when feeding the flamingos? Nowhere does it say that he’s not allowed to buy a light pink shirt that’s covered in hot pink kiss marks (you went along with this half because you wanted to stop his whining and half because you wanted to mess with his dorm leader for collaring Grim the day before)

Since you forbade him from wearing that shirt in public (for NRC’s collective sanity, Riddle’s vocal cords and Heartslabyul’s auditory abilities) Ace makes it a point to hang up that shirt on the door of his wardrobe in his dormitory so that he can brag about it to ‘the miserable and jealous singles’ he shares his living space with (RIP Deuce and the other Heartslabyul NPCs)

He also bought a few more shirts and begged asked you to do the same to them

That shirt is his new favourite thing of all time. He’s even changed his phone’s wallpaper and his Magicam icon (both of which used to be a selfie of you kissing his cheek as he smiles at the camera) to a mirror selfie of him wearing the shirt and you posing next to him.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #ace trappola x reader #epel felmier x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #fem reader

1K notes · View notes

nrdmssgs · 8 months

Note

CONGRATS ON 500, you 100% deserve it and more !!! 🥹🌷💐 i just love your art and work so, so much!!

if it's alright, can i request 37 with könig? my husband, i need him !!!! 😮‍💨

Masterlist List of prompts What? An author, who practically inspired me to come here and start writing? An author, who gifted me the biggest brainrot for many sides of König? Sends me a request? Orla, I am such a huge fan!!!!!! I love your style, love your bold, picturesque oneshots, love your eagerness to discover so many themes. I owe you so much, you don't have an idea. I made a text and a picture in case, you don't like the text. Sorry, I'm fangirling and I'm nervous)

Does it make you nervous, when I stare?

Pairing: KonigxReader Warning: this is NSFW. And König here is not the shyest guy on Earth, because this is colonel edition.

Oh, the things, you would let this man do to you. Unspeakable, ungodly things. Things so unhinged, you wouldn't mention them even after a few rounds of shots with your besties.

One sight of his fingers tapping the tabletop during the debriefing, and you can't think about anything other than the salty taste on your lips, left by his thumb. It would take him just one word, or maybe even one glance to make you cover his index and middle finger in saliva, as he would slide them against your tongue. You'd be so good - standing on your knees for him, sucking his fingers so eagerly, fighting your own gag reflex.

One glance thrown at his forearms, tightly hugged by black cloth, and you imagine his massive hands picking you up like you weigh nothing at all. You'd freeze, learn to hold your breath for as long as he wants, until you'd feel only the brush of his mouth against yours and the grumble of his impatience when he pushes in. The intoxicating thickness of his tongue against yours would be a taste that would rocket to your core and melt you from the inside, as he'd hover over you, pushing apart your legs with the brush of his massive thighs between yours. He'd take and take and take. And how obediently will you keep giving him anything, he demands.

Looking at his hips is a serious danger. Slick outlines of his muscles, his fingers brushing up and down his lap, black holster straps spanning his thigh make you go absolutely feral. You'd be standing still, feeling his low growl with your entire body. You'd hold your hands high against the wall and arch your back, so he can have access to every single part of your body. You'd accept him reminding you, with each his hungry thrust, where your place is: wrapped in his arms while he rubs you senseless, his teeth on your neck leaving you on the edge of pain.

All that fantasies you could hide from König, if it wasn't for his eyes: deep cold silver light, sparkling with interest, every time, he caught you staring. You couldn't make yourself look away: his stare was a predatory gaze, luring you closer, easing you into a thought of coming closer, stripping you of any bit of self-preservation instinct. Yes, when he caught your eyes - König took his time, ravishing in a sight of your desperate blush, letting go of you and turning his gaze away only when you were literally choking with shame, trying to drive away the visions that he awakened in your mind. This man was to become the end of you, and every next day it was only harder to fight that feeling off.

So when you hear, he is expanding his team, it feels only natural to surrender and use this ghostly opportunity to get closer to him. You know, your chance to join the team, his inner circle, is almost zero. By no means, you can be considered a poor professional, but the Colonel is a legend here. He doesn't want just 'the best' he wants those outstanding even from the best. And your personnel files scream 'just good' at best. But you have a motivation, the one so strong and specific, that maybe only you here have. Your obsession with König is pushing you to the darkest void, you were too scared to come to earlier - the threshold of his office.

"Come in." His voice at it finest: not too loud, not too harsh, all honey and slumber. When he wants, he can be mesmerizing as a siren.

You clench your hand into a fist behind your back, thus trying to calm the trembling that is rolling up to your knees.

"Just don't look him in the eyes, and it would be ok. Hands, yes, you can bear looking at his hands and not lose it. Afterward you can have whatever you want - your toys, your fingers, your cushions... Just look at his hands, breathe deep, and it all will be alright." Your inner monologue is interrupted only when he is pulling a folder from your hands, obviously tired of waiting for you to finally give it to him.

"What do we have he- oh..." Your breath hitches, you practically hear an uncanny smile spreading across his face.

"Die Kleine will in meinem Spiel?*" König sounds amused. And although you don't entirely understand, what he said - you get the message and nod, not daring to look him in the eyes.

"Very good. I could use such a treasure..." He flips the pages and clicks his tongue when some of your personal indicators impress him. And before you manage to exhale, he adds: "But I'll need to test you. See, if you are... ready."

"Anything, Colonel!" You blurt it out and immediately shut your mouth, realizing that it might sound ambivalent. But that's enough to make König raise from his seat and lead you from offices to firing range.

You blame it upon a rush of blood to your head, but you pass his test with flying colors. Physical tests, advanced weaponry, strategy, even sparing with König leaves you alive and just a little trembling.

The thing, that breaks you, is not even a test or a check. It happens late in the evening, when you two end up in the locker room. You just need to remove one layer of the tactical gear you were using, you'll still have your shirt and jeans on. But you stop, paralyzed, seeing out of the corner of your eye how König leans against the wall, arms folded on his chest. His gaze, you feel his gaze: lingering and hungry.

"What's wrong, treasure? Are you hurt?" You are afraid to answer and reveal your trembling voice, so you just shake your head.

"You don't know, how to loosen those straps? Want me to help you?" Again: you only shake your head, hiding your gaze.

"Is it my eyes, that make you that nervous, Schatzi*?" His accent thickens, voice drops low, as he steps closer.

You instinctively lean back, but hit the wall behind you. He takes one more step towards you and places his hand between the wall and the back of your head, so that you don't hurt yourself occasionally. But very soon, he guides you to finally look up at him. There it is: silver light, that you can never look away from, once you saw it.

"Talk to me. There can be no secrets inside my team." His voice is soft once again, but you know, it is a trap. And you fall for it.

"I just get distracted. Don't worry, Colonel, I'll learn to ignore it or to live quietly with it. Sorry..." Your voice, your entire body, is trembling.

"There's nothing to apologize for." Something sparkles deep inside his eyes. He moves his veil up, so you can see his lips, and leans right to your ear. "In fact, how about you come at the same time to my office tomorrow, treasure? After all, you've proven, you can be so good for me... It's my turn to convince you, I too can be good for you, Schatzi."

Die Kleine will in meinem Spiel? - Little one wants in my game?

Schatzi - little treasure

946 notes · View notes

imaginesmai · 7 months

Text

Right around the corner (3) - Azriel

LISTEN I CAN EXPLAIN if you've been here for a while now, you can expect this part. If not, may I present myself - hi, I'm Mai and I'm an angst queen bitch. Fourth part already on the way, don't worry!

(1), (2), (3), (4), (5)

Plot: the turth comes out, but in a way Azriel didn't expect.

Warnings: prepare tissues.

Azriel had taken his time to process the words, and in the meanwhile, he had received so many notes from his family that he had his hands full of small paper balls.

There were notes from Feyre updating him of the screaming match between Cassian and Rhysand, long texts from Mor promising him the house was a safe place for you and that he better hurry to bring you out. Even Amren had written a brief ‘I knew it, boy’ that had him more worried than before.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t want you to meet them. He loved his family like nothing else, and knew they would only be supportive and kind to his new status. Him being mated or not didn’t change the way they saw him, but part of him – the part that had felt rejection from his mother and his blood-family, was scared.

Azriel ended up sitting in the kitchen counter in front of you with a frown and a growing headache. Even though it was late and you had had a long day, you instantly noticed his mood.

“What’s wrong?”

It wasn’t unusual for Azriel to go quiet in your presence. You had learned by then that it didn’t mean you did something wrong. Most of the times, it was his insecurities popping up randomly in his mind, the troubles of the day dragging him away from you.

And through the years, you had learned that there was nothing else to do but to stay close to him and remind him that he was there. Right with you, and that you loved him.

Still, as you stared at him that night, you noticed it wasn’t the usual frown. He snuck glances at you and moved from the couch, where he was banned, to the kitchen. You left the bowl aside and stood in front of him, one arm extended so he could hold your hand.

“How do you know Feyre?” he asked, not taking your hand.

“Feyre as… the high lady?”

“Yeah. You greeted her the other day. You two know each other?”

“Guess so. She has her art study right in front of my bakery, haven’t you noticed?” you answered, not understanding the nature of the question. “When she moved in, I baked her a welcome to the neighborhood pie and she has actually painted two of the pictures I hang on the wall”

“Feyre painted pictures for you?” Azriel raised an eyebrow. “Are you two friends?”

“Well, not friends per say, but we know each other. That’s what usually happens when you work in front of someone else’s work” you shrugged, you open hand still empty. “Why?”

“I didn’t know you knew her”

“Should you know I know her? For any specific reason?”

“It would have been nice to know you know my high lady. My brother’s mate”

“Now you know. What’s with all this ‘you know I know’? Why does it matter?”

You didn’t understand why but there was an annoyed edge on his voice that you didn’t like. As a morning person, you usually went to bed early, and any minute past midnight was a minute you were supposed to be asleep. No matter how nice it was to spend time with Azriel and how good he had made you feel an hour ago, now you were annoyed.

The male stared at you, still not answering your silent call for his hand. One of his many shadows crossed the table and jumped at the chance of tangling between your fingers. That would have been enough to make you laugh any other day.

That night, you just stared at each other.

“Az, why are you so – “

“Because you should have told me, Y/N” he cut you off. “You know how important my family is to me, and I think it’s fair to ask that if you know any of them you should tell me. So I’m prepared for this”

“What’s this exactly? Late night discoveries about my neighbors?”

Azriel was quiet for a moment, frustration clear in his features. It was a stupid argument over a stupid situation, and Azriel being on his underwear and you only on his t-shirt without panties didn’t make it any less stupid. You rarely argued, and when you did, it was you who had the pointless argument and Azriel the calm one.

His shadows moved behind the couch and dumped in front of you a bunch of papers. They were all wrinkled and Azriel didn’t have time to hide them or think about how to approach the situation before a new one popped out of thin air. It landed next to your open hand, his shadow catching it and unfolding the content.

Does she eat cereal straight from the box? Is it why you’re hiding her?

You didn’t need to think hard to know it was talking about you, and who the note belonged to. In the past, Rhysand had sent notes to Azriel while you were having a shower together, in bed together, and one had even appeared inside your oven while he was helping you around.

“Feyre told them about you” Azriel explained, having read the note upside down. “And because I didn’t know you knew her, now they are deeply offended and want to meet you”

It took you a while to make sense to his words, because you couldn’t find the problem past you not telling him about Feyre. Quickly, you read some of the notes where Cassian threatened Azriel and Rhysand demanded his presence. They were friendly notes, no harm in them. Still, you couldn’t understand the utter sadness until you realized the meaning behind his annoyance.

Finally, you pulled your hand back to your side, not with little resistance from the shadow. You must have opened the bond channel because Azriel frowned, hit with sadness instead of the usual love.

The first note, where Rhysand explained that Feyre had told him, was what brought it all together.

“You haven’t told them you have a mate”

It occurred to you that you had believed it done with no proofs. You didn’t mind Azriel being at your house, living in your apartment. You didn’t mind having separate Starfall and lives. You didn’t mind either when he left for a family dinner and kissed you goodbye, because you understood his need of privacy, of having something that was just his.

What you didn’t understand until that moment that he hadn’t even told them you existed. And through all the reasons that ran to your mind at his silence, you couldn’t pick just one.

“It’s not that they don’t know me. They don’t know you’re mated”

“You agreed when I said I need to take things slowly. That I needed time” he blurted out suddenly, your sadness making space for his annoyance. “The bond was a surprise for me. I didn’t want to rush things”

“Azriel it’s been six years. Six! It’s not a casual fling or a one-night stand” you tried to voice your hurt, your sadness. “It’s not the same not meeting them that being a secret”

“It’s not like I keep you a secret. They haven’t asked and I haven’t – “

“Because you haven’t told them! What – How do you explain the days you spend here? And the… I – Azriel, we’ve been dating for six years and they haven’t asked?”

“They’re used to me sneaking around”

“For months?” you chuckled. “We were locked here for months after we mated. How did you explain that?”

His words were background noise because, above his absences, there was something you realized they should have noticed. Something anyone noticed from mated pairs as soon as they left the house. White noise filled your ears as he tried to excuse himself by talking about missions.

About your safety, about the worry of something happening to you if they discovered you were his mate.

Azriel blurred in front of you as realization hit you and tears filled your eyes. You could barely hold it together as you spoke.

“You’ve been hiding the mating bond” your breath hitched, because if there was something more important than your bakery, it was your bond. “They should have smelt it. But you’ve been hiding it”

“I didn’t hide it, please, don’t say it like that” his voice broke at the end, willing you to listen to him.

“Right. Because you can’t hide the bond from them unless you don’t accept it” you saw the moment your words hit him, the guilt in the way his shadows almost clouded your vision and his wings flared. “You didn’t accept the bond”

Azriel didn’t answer and, worse than any other betrayal or pain, it broke your heart. You remembered offering him the lemon pie, him tearing up and eating. Accepting the bond was an individual decision, one he should have made years ago – just like you did.

You still shared it; you still were mates. The only difference was that, while you proudly loved him and adored each part of his body and soul, he had rejected your smell on him, your imprint on his own.

An invisible hand cut off your air supply and your breath hitched. You covered your mouth with your hand and muffled the sob, but he felt the exact moment your heart broke. Even if he didn’t show it to the world, he could still feel you. Your feelings, your essence. His own eyes teared up and now he extended his hand forward.

A silent invitation, the same you had given him so many times when he was in need of comfort, of love.

But that time, you didn’t reach forward nor acknowledge the shadows that tried to pull you closer to him.

“Get out”

“Darling”

“Get out” you pointed a shaky finger towards the door.

“Y/N, please. It’s not what you’re thinking” he tried to explain, his voice broken by his sorrow. “I accepted the bond. I just – “

“Get the fuck out now!”

The bowl that you had been filling with lettuce, salmon and other vegetables flew from the desk to where he was standing. His shadows, by their own consciousness or his master’s, didn’t stop it as it crashed against his chest. It spilled all over his naked chest, and before he could clean it, there was another tray with grilled pork on your hand.

Azriel’s last look to you was of pure despair and sorrow. He winnowed away before the second tray could hit him, leaving you with his shadows already cleaning up the mess.

As soon as he was out of sight, you fell down to your knees and sobbed.

He didn’t have a plan, and when he winnowed away, the last thing on his mind was the sound of your heart breaking. There was no way he would go to his house and face his family, not when he wasn’t even sure what had happened in your apartment. Couldn’t start to comprehend the pain he had caused you and how much he hated himself for it.

So, without planning to, he ended up in the cabin.

The old wooden walls and ceiling greeted him, different from the ones he remembered from his past. Feyre had added drawings everywhere, there were clothes scattered around, and food that was still edible.

No matter how familiar the sight was, it offered him no comfort.

Azriel dragged his wings through the floor and sat on the couch. Propping his elbows on his knees, he hid his face as the first tear rolled down. Followed by many more.

He replayed your hurt voice once more, your face. It hadn’t been his intention to reject the bond, not really. But he hadn’t run away from it.

It took him two weeks of uncertainty to know that he hadn’t taken it the way you had. While you radiated with his scent, people didn’t ask him. He walked past Cassian during training and his friend just teased him for being disappeared for a month. Rhysand commented about having to report to him every now and then, and Amren didn’t even acknowledge his presence.

That was how he discovered that he had to accept his part of the mating process. He had to be proud, to want it, in order to complete it.

But you had been so happy, so full of joy and love, that Azriel had feared that telling you about it would make you sad. Eventually, he had learned how he should have done it – but at that moment, he didn’t know. Besides, he could still sneak whenever he wanted to without explanations. So he hadn’t said anything.

The first year rolled by, and he spent a good amount of days panicking about how to deal with the situation. The second year passed and you didn’t ask about it, neither did his family. By the fourth year, he had almost forgotten about it.

Azriel’s loud sob broke the silence of the cabin. His chest contracted and his body shock. It was different from any type of suffering, of pain, he had ever felt. He could still feel the echo of your own through the bond, could hear your cries in the distance.

In the lonely cabin, under the moon light, the shadowsinger sobbed and cried until his voice was raw. He was angry at himself, at his past and his traumas, even angry at you. Because now that he knew what it felt to be complete, to be happy and safe in someone’s love, he couldn’t bear the thought of not having it.

His body gravitated to the side and he curled himself in a ball, still in his underwear. It reminded him of when he was a kid and would try to hide himself in the dark cell, cowering in his fear and desperation.

As if he was a kid all over again, Azriel let his wings cover his body and cried. Cried until he couldn’t remember his name, until he was begging the Cauldron to turn back time and let him accept the bond. Carry you on his arm around Velaris and don’t let the fear take control of his life.

He felt like punching a hole through the wall. Like flying thousand feet up and letting go in free fall. Maybe get into a bar fight and let everything out. But his body was anchored to that couch, to that pain. Azriel pressed his closed fists into his chest, trying to relief some of the pressure.

While he wondered if that was what having his heart ripped from his chest fell, he forgot to keep his mental shields up.

Letting Rhysand in.

The house of wind had been chaos for a few hours.

Rhysand had tried to manage the situation by himself, wide awake in bed while processing Feyre’s words. He willed himself to sleep, to rest and leave the pondering for the morning. But when he tried to close his eyes, he could see Azriel covered in blood and killing an entire camp because an illegal wing clipping. He could notice the faint, new smell in the house that he hadn’t noticed.

If he had his eyes open, he couldn’t help but look at Nyx’s new toy.

So, Rhysand had woken up Cassian, after Azriel hadn’t answered his notes. And Cassian had been mad. Angry, furious, raging. The general had talked nonsense about berries for a while and then he begged Rhysand to wake up Feyre and find Azriel to interrogate them.

And, who was the high lord to deny a late-night gossiping session?

Feyre had been mad but she had told them that Azriel had a mate that worked in front of her art studio, in a bakery. That you were nice and cheerful, that you had been mated for six years.

That was when Cassian lost it and woke up the whole house.

Now, all the members of the inner circle had gathered in the council room with their pajamas on.

“Maybe it’s not true. Feyre, you might have had imagined it”

“Are you calling me a liar?” Feyre raised her eyebrows at Cassian.

“I’m just saying he would have told me! We’re brothers. And we don’t keep secrets in this house. Never.”

“You don’t keep secrets” Amren cut him off, not looking at him. “Your bean brain is too simple to keep any type of secrets from us, but that doesn’t mean all of us are exhibitionist”

“I’m not – “

“You are an exhibitionist. You announce everything, Cas. Even a fart” Mor corrected him before he could defend himself.

“Sorry for being kind enough to not keep secrets from my family” he frowned, turning to look at Rhys. “You keep secrets from me?”

“I don’t keep secrets from you” Rhys assured him, half a smile.

“He threw the sword you gifted Nyx for his birth and told you Bryaxis took it so you wouldn’t look for it”

Feyre looked at her mate with a raised eyebrow, daring him to say anything else. With a wide-awake Nyx in her arms, she looked at threatening as the Hybern army. She had yet to talk to him privately, but Rhysand knew he was up for a long talk. So he bit his lip and turned to Cassian. Who, of course, looked completely broken and defeated.

The rest of the group was silent, barely keeping their smiles to themselves. Even Nesta, who had a hand on his shoulder, was looking at Feyre with approval. Cassian stared at Rhysand for a long second before he talked.

“It was a nice sword”

“For a teenager, maybe. For a baby, not” Feyre answered again. “Weren’t you just talking about Azriel’s betrayal and secrets?”

“I, for one, knew he was hiding something” Amren commented for the third time. “Just saying I noticed. And you didn’t”

“Not all of us are creeps that stare and don’t talk. We have social lives to take care of” Mor said.

“Some of you do talk. Maybe too much”

Rhysand tuned out Amren and Mor argument when he felt a crack through Azriel’s mental barriers. He had been tugging at them softly to know where his brother was. Feyre had talked him out of the idea of barging in uninvited and demanding answers – at least, he had talked Amren and Mor out of it. Rhysand and Cassian were still unconvinced.

That was why he had kept a talon poking at his mental barriers since the argument started, thinking it wouldn’t be successful.

But then, Azriel opened it unconsciously and Rhysand brought a hand up to his chest.

Everyone fell quiet as the high lord scrunched his eyebrows and pressed his lips together, not ready for the wave of emotions and pain Azriel was feeling at the moment.

Feyre’s hand was instantly on him, Nyx looking up to his father with a pout that would surely turn into a crying session soon. Before the baby could start crying or any of his friends could ask him about it, Rhysand accepted Feyre’s help and got up from his chair.

“He’s at the cabin” he announced, already summoning his darkness to swallow Cassian and him there. “We’ll keep you updated”

Nyx’s loud cry was the last thing they heard as they winnowed away. And the first one they heard from the cabin, was Azriel’s broken one.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Right around the corner taglist:

@lesliemurillo @impossibelle @polli05927 @florencemtrash @going-through-shit @minakay @setayeshmohseni @torchbearerkyle @esposadomd @amysangel @kennedy-brooke @originalcrusadetrash @luvmoo @historygeekqueen @marriedtolike18fictionalmen @wallacewillow0773638 @tothestarsandwhateverend @kristalhi @knmendiola @nikt-wazny-y

840 notes · View notes

kooktrash · 10 months

Text

his special secret II | kim taehyung

summary: getting into a relationship with your professor was never in your agenda. you knew it was wrong on some level but it was hard to think of that when he made you feel so good. now it’s been some time since you got together and the secrets are slowly unraveling but who says it’s all bad?

➢ genre/au: college art professor!tae x art student!y/n [she/her… afab] [age gap 9 years]

➢ 13.5k words

warnings: smüt. secret relationship. tae is 30, y/n is 21. oral [f]. make out. groping. tae is divorced. both got cheated on in past. jealous tae. dirty talk. makeout in art closet. y/n is confident but going thru it. professor x student. missionary. tae’s ex finds out and she’s a bitch. y/n is kinda closed off but works on opening up to him. tae thinks everything y/n does is cute. changed it so Namjoon is the ex. fluff ending

THIS IS THE FINAL PART. read part one

You felt utterly ridiculous. You know you agreed to dress as a bunny tonight but clearly you didn’t think things through.

One, it’s kind of cold. You’re at a house party but with everyone going in and out, windows open, ie, you’re cold. The costume was an extremely vague definition of a bunny costume. You were dressed in mostly black, a simple black mini skirt with faux black fur on the hem, a black top, back bunny ears and tail. You even had gloves that turned to mittens if you flipped them up and it made them look like paws. You just weren’t dressed warmly.

Two, you’ve been hit on a lot more than usual. It’s probably the fact that everyone’s drunk at this point and you’re wearing very little clothes. Usually you would play along, never giving in, but you know… playing nice. If the conversation went well then you would get more involved but tonight you couldn’t do that. No, you won’t do that. You and Taehyung… you’re dating but also not? It’s a very tricky situation yet it also made perfect sense. It’s lowkey, the lowest of lows but that didn’t mean you could flirt with people right? That’s why you’re slightly uncomfortable being hit on tonight—probably because of this stupid bunny costume.

“We look so fucking stupid,” you groaned as you chuffed back your drink fully in hopes of getting drunk enough that you won’t think about it.

“It’s all Jungkook’s fault.”

“Woah! I thought this was a classy party so let’s not point fingers now,” Jungkook said in pink bunny ears because he thought it would be so funny dressing like a bunny. In reality he had no costume and Bora was between choosing pink or white and when she decided on white Jungkook was stuck with the pink. He begged you to trade but you had an entire outfit already so you weren’t going to now.

His hands were up in surrender,

“Jungkook, it’s your fault. We were only supposed to be bunnies, you could’ve done literally anything else,” Bora said, making Jungkook roll his eyes.

“That would’ve looked so stupid Bora, are you dumb? Three bunnies at least makes it look like we planned this all ahead for pictures — which we need to take soon,” Jungkook said pointing at you two.

“Whatever you want to do, let's do it now because I’m not staying long,” you said as you typed away on your phone. You have been talking to Taehyung for a while through text and he will be coming for you soon.

“Why?” Bora asked as she twirled a piece of your hair between her fingers casually throwing in a compliment about how nice it looked.

“I’ve got work tomorrow and I have assignments to do,” you said as you locked your phone and put it down.

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, “It’s late as hell, you’re not gonna do assignments.”

You looked back at him with a poker face, “I have to try.”

“Y/n, you bullshitting me?” He asked with an amused expression.

“Probably.”

“Are you seeing someone?” He asked skeptically. All the signs are there, he's just trying not to jump to conclusions.

“I already told you no,” you rolled your eyes.

“Wait, why do you think Y/n is seeing someone? Are you seeing someone?” Bora asked, looking between you two confused.

“No, I’m not,” you said to her plainly.

“You’re a liar with pants on fire,” Jungkook said with a scoff. He really just wants to know, he has an idea on who with but he can’t just say it.

“I’m not wearing pants,” you said and he was so close to choking you out because why are you being so condescending?

“It’s a metaphor.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard it before but I don’t get it, I know it’s probably some history joke but it just doesn’t make sense, right?” You said with a little laugh making him nod his head in agreement.

“Wait. Stop changing the subject. Who are you seeing?” He said.

You laughed, “No one.”

“Y/n.”

“Jungkook.” You repeated in the same tone he used with you.

“Bora.”

“Bora shut up,” you and Jungkook said at the same time.

“Sorry that I don’t know what you guys are talking about,” Bora said with a scoff. As much as you loved Borea, she was the slowest of you three and never caught onto things as quickly. You’re not surprised that Jungkook suspected this since he brought it up the other day but you wanna see how long you can deny it.

“Go somewhere else then for a couple minutes,” Jungkook said pointing at a random corner of the party trying to direct her over there.

“You guys suck,” she said, flipping you off.

“Love you Bora,” you said with a wave as she walked away.

“Liar.”

“Why don’t you just admit you’re dating someone?” Jungkook asked and this time you couldn’t take the annoyance that was brewing.

“Jungkook, why are you pushing it? What does it matter?” You asked running your fingers through your hair to move it out of your face.

“Because I have my suspicions and if I’m right I want to at least make sure you’re okay,” he said and he was being honest. The last guy you dated cheated on you and the one before that was a manipulator so he feels like as a close friend of yours he has a right to make sure you’re not seeing another asshole.

“What are your suspicions?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You’re dating someone from campus.”

“Dating but in the loosest of term,” you said.

He rolled his eyes, “Alright seeing, you’re seeing someone on campus.”

“Okay sure.”

“But not a student,” he said, waiting to see if you’d react but you didn’t so much as blink.

You huffed in annoyance, “Stop speaking in incomplete sentences and just spit it out if you know.”

“Your professor.”

Your jaw dropped, “You did not just say that.”

Okay, you knew he thought you were seeing someone but there’s no way you two were obvious enough for Jungkook to notice. What a hypocrite you were as if you didn’t just tell him to spit it out.

“I did,” he said with a triumphant smirk now that he got an actual reaction out of you. You fought like little kids but it might be because you’re both just a teensy bit drunk.

“Jungkook, I'm not seeing my—him, and don’t say that again, someone might hear,” you whispered the last part.

“Alright, first of all you told me to spit it out, second don’t deny it, Y/n,” he said, making you roll your eyes.

“What are you talking about?” Deny. Deny. Deny.

“Girl, I just know. Bora’s been joking nonstop about it and I think you really did sleep with him at least. You’ve been ditching us more — which is normal… but I’m just saying, you won’t even tell us who it is. You’re being so secretive about it and it makes me think it’s him. Plus, any time I’m walking past the art room or walking you there I always see the way he looks at you. And what do you do? Well you get all blushy but nervous and guess what I found the other day? A big fat hickey on his neck the same day he got mad I was in the room,” Jungkook with w gasp at the end from how fast he rushed everything out.

“Jesus Christ, you’ve been holding all of that in?” You asked with a little laugh.

“Yes! I have, so I’m literally begging you Y/n just tell me I’m right,” Jungkook said.

“Fine! You’re right, I’m sleeping with him,” you groaned but he just cheered.

“Oh thank god,” he said, holding a hand to his chest, “You got a few screws loose or something?”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“And you’re so fucked.”

You didn’t argue on that as you released a sigh, “Yeah, I know.”

“So is he gonna come pick you up?” Jungkook asked now and you nodded your head as you checked your messages where Tae texted that he would be here in five minutes. He raised a hand to your black bunny ears and flicked the headband back, “Be safe.”

You smiled as he left your side, that was your best friend’s way of saying he would support you and your decisions. When Taehyung arrived shortly after you left the apartment door hugging your sides feeling a lot more naked now than you did inside the party.

Outside the building a guy dressed in an oversized gray hoodie, black ball cap, and black sweats stood at the door waiting and he turned to look at you, you smiled. You looked behind you as if you would see someone you knew coming down the stairs and when it was clear you practically ran to him.

Taehyung released a soft laugh as you nearly jumped on him looking exactly like you were supposed to, a cute bunny overly excited to see him. Why did you make him smile so much when it’s just the two of you?

“I’m cold,” you said with a pout as you hugged his waist, “I forgot my jacket at Jungkook’s place.”

“Mm,” he hummed, his thumb caressing your cheek softly as he couldn’t stop himself placing at least one kiss on your lips. It was short and sweet and he was quickly pulling away to take off his hat first. His hair was beginning to get longer and the fluff and waved made it look shaggier than usual. Usually you always see him looking all sexy and professional in class but whenever you get to see him looking like the epitome of boyfriend material, your heart flutters. His long hair shielded his face as he dipped his head down to pull off his big hoodie and handed it to you before slipping his hat back on.

Once it was on he took you by your hand and walked the short distance to where he had the car parked and asked, “Did you have fun?”

“It was alright but too many people,” you said, thanking him for holding the car door open for you. Before you fully got in the car you gave him a quick kiss that had him smiling.

The two of you sat in the car for a moment, the car was on and the overhead lights were on and he just grabbed your hand to press a kiss to your knuckle, “You’re coming over, right?”

“Obviously,” you smiled as you leaned over the console for another kiss. It’s like you just couldn’t keep your hands off each other, he was kissing you back just as eagerly.

The further you leaned back the more Taehyung followed after you and by accident, your bunny ears hit the rear view mirror and knocked them down your head. You whined about the sudden pain while he was hit by one of the black ears making him move back laughing. You smacked your lips in annoyance as you sat back properly and yanked them off. He bit back a smile as he reached up to turn off the light and drive off.

He would be lying if he said he was patient but in truth, he couldn’t wait to have you. You ran for his bedroom chasing each other's mouths and when you were inside, you practically pushed him onto the bed giggling like you’ve just had the best idea ever. Taehyung felt so giddy in the moment and all he could do was smile as you took off his hoodie and slipped back on your bunny ears, “Well? You don’t like my costume? I thought I looked at least a little hot.”

“So cute,” Taehyung smiled boyishly and it took everything in him not to dig his face in one of his pillows. You crossed your arms over your chest rolling your eyes playfully and pretended like you didn’t see his outstretched hand beckoning you forward. You crawled onto the bed knocking the headband off your head as he began to kiss along your arm, guiding you to lay down so he could get on top and kiss you. You gladly let him take the lead, arms wrapping around his neck to hold him while his tongue licked along your lip.

Your legs were spread around him hoisted up at the knee and he took the chance to sit up between them and just take in the sight of you. You looked so pretty and he couldn’t stop himself from pulling on your clothes to get them off. He kissed along your exposed thighs trailing up toward your stomach and purposely skipping your pelvis even if his hands grazed your hip bones.

You wore nothing under your costume and Taehyung would be lying if he said that didn’t make him just a little jealous. It wasn’t anything serious but all he could think about tonight was how many people would hit on you. It’s no secret you were very pretty and he always worried that you’ll realize he’s too old for you and he can’t have that. If it means he has to give you all the pleasure your body can take, he will.

Taehyung looked at your exposed breasts licking his lips. Once your eyes meet he couldn’t help but finally hover over you and press open mouthed kisses to your mounds, swirling his tongue around your nipples in a way that caught you by surprise making your hand circle into his hair. Taehyung tugged a stiff bud between his teeth, rolling the other between his fingertips and you had to bite down on your lip to keep an embarrassing moan from slipping out.

“Tae, please,” you whine, rubbing your thighs together in an attempt to get an ounce of friction between your legs. You would be a liar if you said you hadn’t been thinking about this all night. He hasn’t paid much attention to your gear yet but if he did he would see the clear line of arousal that coated your entrance.

Taehyung lets his lips ghost over your inner thigh, nipping gently at your soft flesh and his fingers seemed to dig into where he bit and spread your legs even further apart.

“I’m trying to appreciate what a pretty bunny I have,” he murmurs, pressing a warm kiss to the spot just below your belly button, “You look so hot, all those pictures you sent me almost made me want to keep you all to myself tonight.”

It was true too. Earlier he had to see his ex at the restaurant and he had wanted to spend the night with you but you had already made plans and he didn’t want to keep you from it. When you showed him your costume he was just alone at his house trying to talk himself out of calling you and asking you to wear it for him and him alone but he knew you should go and have fun with your friends.

In the end he couldn’t stop himself from going to pick you earlier than expected, tired of waiting.

His soft hair brushes against your inner thighs as he finally dips his head between them, finally seeing how wet you were and his fingers dug into your thighs unintentionally, “Baby, how long have you been like this?”

“All night,” you confessed, “Couldn’t stop thinking about you—ngh, fuck.”

Taehyung didn’t even let you finish when his tongue licked your wanting folds, releasing a quiet breath of relief at your taste. He does it a couple times as if testing the water and each time a line of slick connects your cunt to the tip of his tongue when he would pull away.

“Poor baby, I’ll make you feel good, okay?” he breathes.His lips close around your clit so suddenly that your body reacted drastically. Your spine curved off the bed, a hand tightening around his hair pulling on accident and he releases a low groan at the hard tug but it only made him be rougher. He pulled your legs over his shoulders so they weren’t in the way when his tongue lapped at your pool of arousal before coating your clit with it. His arms had hooked around your thighs to keep you from squirming away from him and he could tell you loved his soft manhandling. He purposely nudged his nose against your clit feeling you begin to grind your pussy against his lips seeking your own pleasure and he happily let you use him to get off. Everytime he went lower he dipped his tongue teasingly into your entrance before pulling on your left labia knowing it was more sensitive between his lips to listen to your moans grow louder.

“Taste so sweet,” he hummed in appreciation and finally decided to really put his tongue to work. Taehyung alternated between flicking his tongue over the swollen bundle of nerves and flattening his tongue into your folds and moving it side to side before swallowing it whole in his mouth. He was quite literally making out with your cunt and he held you firmly to keep you from moving away.

You were so close already and he wasn’t easing up when you pulled on his hair in warning, “Tae, I’m so close.”

“Mhm,” he nodded his head, feeling your pussy subconsciously following his head movement to keep his mouth on you, “Go ahead, let go, pretty girl.”

Without much warning a hand left your thigh so that his middle finger can toy on your entrance and before you knew it he was pushing it into your wanton beat. You released a loud whine trying to squeeze your legs around his head to push him back but he only pressed a second finger into your slick. You were so close already and he wasn’t easing up until he tasted your release on his tongue. Taehyung knew exactly where that soft spot behind your pubic bone was and curved his long fingers into it, repeatedly pressing into it every time he thrusted his fingers back in. You have to admit, he eats your pushy bettwr than any guy you’ve ever been with and it’s all because of how experienced he was. You almost felt jealous at the thought of how many times he went down on his wife like this—even if he told you it had been a long time since they were last intimate.

Taehyung was unaware of your growing thoughts, too focused on making you cum and unintentionally he snapped you out of your thoughts when he suddenly pulled his fingers out right before your orgasm hit you and replaced it with his tongue. Immediately your body seemed to react to the change and you pulled hard on his hair as you saw stars.

He kept his grip firm on your leg making sure his tongue licked up all of your release like a dog in search of water.

Even as your body tried to calm down he licked at your clit gently, soothing you down as he messily tried to sneak a hand down to his sweats to tug them down.

You both looked at each other with hungry eyes as he sat back on his haunches to yank his shirt off before moving to take his sweats and boxer briefs off. As if knowing the routine, you reached into his nightstand to find the box of condoms he bought with you and ripped into the package watching him stroke himself for some relief and let it point straight.

You sit up pulling him down by the gold necklace he usually wore and kissed him hard, tasting your own release on his tongue and it was all so messy. His chin was coated in your arousal that rubbed off on you and his stiff cock was in your hands as you worked the condom onto him. Taehyung fell forward making you fall back onto the bed as he pressed his hands into the mattress to keep from crushing you.

“Look at what you do to me, baby,” he groaned as he fucked his hard dick into your fist. You just moaned leading him toward your push and he slid in right between your folds teasingly as he ran his tip along them.

“I need you,” you whisper into his ears as he drops his head down against your chest to watch his cock catch against your opening and finally rock his hips forward.

You couldn’t stop your hips from meeting his and guide him in further with a moan, “Fuck.”

You arch up, pressing your breasts closer to his face and he wordlessly wrapped his lips around a hardened nipple in time with the way he pushed in until he was at the hilt.

“So tight,” he rasps around a nipple; slowly beginning to fuck his long dick inside you. You moan at the tug he made between his teeth when he draws his hips back before fucking into you harder this time. Taehyung was shamefully close to orgasm because of how hard you pulled on his hair and his back was curved up making him practically curl into your body to stuff his cock deeper. Your nails scratched along his back moaning his name, “Taehyung, I can’t—“

God; he turned you on so much and you were already so sensitive. Your legs hooked around his hips, the heels of your feet forcing him even deeper as your walls tightened around his length making him moan, slobbering all over your tits.

“You’re so fucking good to me, Angel,” he fucked you hard and slowly making you feel his entire length. His hair ticked your chin as he pulled his mouth away to trail kisses up your neck until he could kiss your lips. “Why are you so pretty?”

He was looking at you lovingly, driving his dick deeper and deeper and curving his hips at an angle that made him hit your sweet spot everytime.

You can only moan in response when Taehyung tried to pull out halfway but your feet wouldn’t let him and he had to resort to rocking and grinding his hips against yours, practically rutting into you.

“I don’t know,” you finally responded to his rhetorical question. You can feel the familiar tremors of another orgasm starting, making your thighs shake and he doesn’t ease up, determined to making you cum a second time before letting himself go. You dug your nails into his shoulder making him his at the pleasuring pain and your voice rose to a high pitch, “Oh my god, I—I—“

He kissed you hard as your orgasm hit you, making you tighten around his cock so hard that you triggered his own orgasm. “Oh fuck,” he groaned as he rocked his hips, cumming hard into the condom and hugging your body to his listening to your breathless pants.

After a moment to catch your breath, he pulled out carefully, dryly swallowing as he ran a soothing hand up your trembling thighs, “You did so good, you always do.”

“Mhm,” you mumbled, already turning on your side, completely tired out. Taehyung just smiled at the sight of you trying to curl yourself into the blanket and as he watched your eyes close tiredly, he cleaned off the mess from the two of you before crashing down onto the bed next to you.

“Honey, wake up.”

You released a soft moan as you rolled onto your stomach making the comforter wrap around you as you dug your face into the pillow. A low laugh filled the room as Taehyung reached a hand out to your hair. You were quite literally the definition of comfortable sleep. Your hair was a mess because of your eye mask, the sheets were tangled between your legs and you’re spread out on the bed with no care in the world.

He brushed some of the locks out of your face, “Y/n, wake up.”

You huffed as you pulled yourself up enough to reach for your phone and checked the time, a whine left your lips, “Tae, it’s like 11 in the morning, are you crazy?”

He looked at you strangely, “It’s noon, Y/n.”

“And a Sunday,” you told him as you slipped your sleeping mask back on, “You know how late it was when you picked me up from the party, how are you not tired? Plus, I have to work tonight.”

“Fine, sleep all you want then, I’m gonna do some work,” Taehyung said with a slight roll of his eyes. You’re right, it’s a Sunday and typically those are lazy days, especially for Taehyung. He likes to just hang around the house reading, playing classical or jazz, maybe enjoy a coffee outside and you know… having the person you’re seeing join you.

He gets it, he really does. You’re tired and you did have a late night. He did too but he hadn’t gotten tipsy so he’s not hungover. He woke up early and did his usual Sunday habit but once it passed noon he wanted to see if you’d wake up anytime soon. You do work tonight and he probably won’t see you tomorrow so he would like to be with you today but you’re clearly tired.

You have a very chaotic schedule like most college students trying to bounce between strange class times and stranger work schedules so honestly your weeks all look different. He’s got more consistency clearly so he has time to relax and be at home or go out for drinks without having to do things so late. It’s clearly been a little difficult making your schedules align sonce yours is unpredictable. Some days you have early morning lectures and late night shifts. Other times you have three lectures in one day but they’re hours apart and they go well past the sun sets. Some weekends you work, some you don’t. Sometimes you get off early, sometimes you get asked to cover a shift.

Don’t even get him started on your crazy schedule for your art piece for the exhibition. You’re stressed and tired and last night you had your fun.

You went out with your friends, got drunk, danced, did whatever… maybe talked to guys or played a drinking game—just had fun. Then of course the two of you had done some things in the car when you sobered up enough and the night just grew later and later.

So he let you sleep.

Things have been tense for you lately. With school, work, the spring exhibition, balancing your friends and still trying to make time to at least talk to Taehyung, it’s all been too much for you. To make matters worse, you and Jungkook aren’t speaking to each other and if you do it tends to end in an argument over the same thing each time.

“You wanted me to be honest and I was,” you told him as he walked with you to the art room, “So why can't you just trust that I know what I’m doing?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Y/n. You’re my best friend, of course I fucking trust you and that’s not why I keep trying to talk to you about this,” Jungkook said as the two of you stopped in front of the building, “I’m worried for you, alright? How long has it been since you and Hoseok broke up?”

You didn’t say anything because you knew he wasn’t actually asking. He didn’t even give you time to speak anyway, “And when did you hook up with V?”

When Jungkook said V he was referring to Taehyung, it was an easy nickname you could use in public. Once again, Jungkook didn’t give you much time to speak, “I get it, everyone wants to have a rebound and I was all for it, I was joking right there alongside Bora about it.”

“So then what are you trying to say right now?” You asked him with your arms crossed over your chest as you leaned against the building wall with windows, you knew that if Taehyung was inside he would be watching.

Jungkook took a deep breath as he moved to stand close to you, “What I’m saying is I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

“I won’t,” you told him but it was very clear he didn’t fully believe it.

The thing is, Jungkook really did care for you. He loved you and it wasn’t in a romantic way, he just loved you as a friend and that wasn’t something up for debate. If Bora was going through this exact situation he would be equally concerned.

It’s not that he has a disliking toward Professor Kim because if anything, it’s the complete opposite. He has a lot of respect for the guy because of his professionalism and what he’s done to help his students. Jungkook doesn’t think Taehyung has bad intentions with you but he also can’t fully support a relationship that has been built because the two of you went through very similar experiences and you’re both still coping.

And you can lie to yourself all you want about how what Namjoon didn’t bother you anymore but Jungkook knows you. He knew that when you were telling him and Bora about it you were fighting back tears. He knows that you didn’t want to confront Hoseok and that you ended it with him so that you wouldn’t have to talk about it again. That’s not coping, that’s ignoring the problem and once again, Jungkook knows you. He knows that if you don’t deal with it any time soon then you’re just going to let it bubble up until one day you just break down and he highly doubts Professor Kim would handle that well.

Taehyung is older, he’s a bit more mature and level headed which is what you need but Jungkook just doesn’t want you to think it’s more than it is so that you end up hurt again. You need to talk with Taehyung and really discuss what kind of relationship you’re both looking for and until then Jungkook can’t fully support it.

He’s not going to sit around and watch his friend get hurt again.

With a reluctant sigh he finally said, “Am I taking you to work later?”

“If you can,” you mumbled as he ruffled your hair with a final goodbye. You waited outside for a moment trying to clear your thoughts.

You’ve known Jungkook for a long time and he’s a very good friend. Honestly sometimes it feels like you don’t deserve the kid, sure he can be immature and annoying at times but at the end of the day he cares deeply for those around him and you feel lucky to be one of them. He’s put up with you for years now so you understand where he’s coming from but you also feel like you’re capable of making your own decisions.

He’s right, you don’t know how your relationship will go with Taehyung but you don’t want to think about that right now.

Right now you want to finish up your work and enjoy the short amount of time you have with Taehyung because despite being so different, it works for you two. It’s almost like you balance each other out and you haven’t felt that way with someone in a while. You know that you have an age gap and it’s not that you think you’re this mature woman who knows everything but you’re also not a kid.

You’re at an age where you’re navigating through adulthood but you also can still say that you are a bit naive on some things and it can make things confusing for you. You know Taehyung doesn’t have bad intentions with you but you also know that he was once a married man to his college sweetheart who broke his heart. A man doesn’t just bounce back from that in a year’s time no matter how much he despises the woman now.

“What are you doing?” Yuna asked so suddenly that you jumped and she smiled, “Aren’t you going in?”

“Yeah,” you said with a sigh as you followed her into the studio for your printmaking class.

You walked past Taehyung like he was nothing more than your professor and he greeted you like you were nothing but a student. It goes like this almost every day you see him on campus but then the night or weekends roll around and it’s an entirely different story. It’s a bit exhausting but you prefer it this way.

“So, uh, you know who came up to me this morning?” Yuna asked, making you shrug curiously as you went to the usual table the two of you worked at, Seungjin already there waiting.

“Namjoon, he asked if I knew where you were but I said no,” Yuna told you, “I don’t know if I was supposed to say yes or not because—well, did you guys break up?”

Seungjin looked at you now, “Wait, you two broke up? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I don’t like telling people my business,” you said in a snappy tone that Seungjin knew you weren’t serious about, “But we broke up before he left.”

Namjoon was just on a two week retreat for his major and that’s the only reason why he stopped blowing up your phone other than that day in the beginning when Taehyung scolded you for walking out. You knew he wasn’t done trying to get you back because even if the relationship was short lived and he cheated, the two of you worked well together. That’s why it bothered the shit out of you that he threw it away when the two of you could’ve been something great.

There’s no point in thinking about it now though because you’ll never take a man who cheated on you back.

“So it’s only been a few weeks?” Yuna asked, “That makes so much sense. I was wondering why you haven’t talked about him or why he seemed so mad when I told him I hadn’t seen you.”

“Are you working tonight?” Seungjin asked, trying to change the subject when he could tell you weren’t feeling it anymore.

In the beginning you barely talked to him and even Yuna, but lately he’s been hanging out with Jungkook a lot and you’ve been talking to Yuna more regularly so you’ve all just become closer friends. Seungjin knows your work schedule because most of the time if Taehyung can’t pick you up, Jungkook does and since the guy is always with Jungkook, he’s basically memorized your work schedule.

“Sadly,” you mumbled as you stared down at your work struggling to find out where to start, “I’ve got so much shit to do it’s stressing me out.”

Taehyung’s gotten a little bit better at hiding what the two of you have but it doesn’t make things easier. He still can’t fully explain your relationship because there’s a lot of factors that play a part in it.

First, your age. You’re both very clearly in different points of your lives even if your age difference isn’t too bad, it’s still not fully acceptable.

It’s not like he’s using the fact that you’re young and a bit naive in his favor because he honestly thinks you’re mature. He’s not going to say you’re mature for your age because he doesn’t like what that saying means. You’re mature because that’s just how you are and it has nothing to do with your age, just your person. He’s not sleeping with you because you’re young but behave like you’re grown.

He’s sleeping with you and talking to you every chance he has because he genuinely enjoys your time. He enjoys sleeping in bed with you and listening to your rants over the littlest things. He likes how enthusiastic you get when you talk about your favorite show or explain the meaning behind your art. He likes that you listen to his own rants about jazz music and which artist is favorite. He likes that you don’t know how to do some things but you’re always looking to learn something new.

Taehyung has gotten used to not being able to interact with you during the day. It’s not that the two of you can’t talk, it's that you shouldn’t. There’s too much tension there any time you do. You can tell by the way he looks at you with warm eyes that turn your insides giddy even if you want to say they don’t. He speaks to you gently and his tone very obviously changes when he’s talking to the others so the both of you are just paranoid to be found out.

The only time he really gets to see you is late at night and that makes him feel like an absolute garbage of a man because he’s not using you for sex. That’s not all he wants but if the only time he gets to see you is after you get off work, then it looks that way, especially considering you’re usually very eager to sleep with him that sometimes he can’t catch up.

“You don’t have class tomorrow, do you?” Taehyung asked as he twisted a lock of your hair around his index finger. You were laying on his chest as some A24 film played on the television in your bedroom. You’ve just finished having sex and now you’re just trying to enjoy some time together before morning comes and you have to go back to acting like there’s nothing between you.

“No, but I’ll be busy with the project,” you mumbled against his chest as you made yourself more comfortable against him.

“I’ve got a meeting in the morning but I’m free the majority of the day, there’s going to be the other teachers so I won’t have to stay,” Taehyung offered up, “Maybe we can do something.”

“I’d like that,” you told him as you tried paying attention to the movie but Taehyung wasn’t as interested. He wanted to talk to you because that’s what people in a relationship should do.

“I saw you and your friend talking outside today, everything okay?” Taehyung asked as you looked up at him.

“Yeah.”

He stayed quiet for a moment as he tried to decipher your expression and what you really meant. He does wish you would communicate a little more. You’re very obviously stressed about numerous things and maybe he could help with it a little but not if you won’t talk to him. He was used to his ex ignoring him in favor of keeping it bottled in and resenting him for her own lack of communication but he doesn’t want that with you. He wants to ask more but he won’t force you to tell him.

“Jungkook figured out about us,” you said before gnawing on your bottom lip in fear that he would be mad. Taehyung took a deep breath as he nodded his head, making you rush to say, “He won’t say anything, trust me.”

“I mean… if you trust him then I do too,” Taehyung said. He knows you’re close with Jungkook and that does make him nervous sometimes but he can’t come out of nowhere and tell you that so he just accepts it.

“And…” you bit your lip once more and Taehyung found himself bringing his thumb up to pull your lip out as it reddened.

“Talk to me,” he said gently. You’re opening up to him little by little but something is clearly on your mind that you’re struggling to say. Every time you get shy and nervous he doesn’t see you as the one who made the first move in his car that night, he just sees someone he cares a lot about looking worried and anxious. He just wants to be here for you.

“My ex has been asking around for me,” you told him honestly and he took a deep breath in thought.

“Really?” Taehyung looked away from you for a moment. Your ex was a cheater, he cheated on someone as beautiful and smart as you and in reality he’s also the reason why you and Taehyung got close. He knows that he’ll never go back to his cheating ex but you might feel differently. You might be more easily swayed into going back to him and it’s not like Taehyung could do anything about it. Your ex is closer to your age, he’s known you a little longer and all of your friends know of him. He’s not a secret to you and you’re not a secret to him so he would have no choice but to understand if you took him back.

“I mean, it’s just a bit tiring, I thought we were over this but it looks like he’s back to trying,” you said with a defeated sigh before cuddling back into Taehyung.

He pressed his lips to your hair, not really kissing you but just appreciating the intimacy, “Would you?”

“What?” Your brows furrowed as you looked up at him. Taehyung had never regretted his words so quickly looking at the way you pulled away from him clearly taken back. He cleared his throat, “I mean would you want to try with him again?”

“Would you?” You asked a little annoyed, “Would you want to try with your ex wife again if she asked?”

“No,” Taehyung sat up with you, “Of course not, but I would understand if you did.”

You couldn’t help but scoff, “So you would understand if I went back to my cheating ex? Good to know that you understand if someone takes back a cheater.”

“Baby that’s not what I mea—“ Taehyung tried to say but you were already moving off the bed, “Hey I just mean… you’re both still young and make mistakes—you weren’t dating long before and if there’s still lingering feelings…”

“If I still felt something for him, why would I be with you?” You asked, making him bite his lip nervously, “And you think just because I’m young it’s alright to just forgive someone who hurt me? Nice to know.”

“No, honey pl—“

“I’m gonna get in the shower,” you cut him off just as he was getting up.

He watched you leave and he sat on the edge of your bed running his hand over his face in frustration. That’s not what he meant at all. He was trying to say he would understand your feelings but that was clearly the problem. Why would he even think you would leave him the second you got the chance? You’re not his ex but he just doesn’t want to lose you when he just started feeling love again.

Wait, not love. It’s too early for that and you think so too but he means it affectionately. Why did he have to pretend like he would understand? He wouldn’t. He just doesn’t want you or your friend to think he’s the one controlling your relationship.

He has to trust you and not assume you’ll leave him.

Taehyung knows he upset you last night. That wasn’t his intention by any means and he feels like shit for making you feel any sort of way. You know your worth just how he knows his and it’s unfair that he questioned you about it. He feels so stupid and he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it all morning.

He wasn’t able to pay attention in his meetings because all he could think about was how to be better for you. He knew you would be busy for a bit today so he didn’t want to bother you early on but you agreed to spend the day together. He decided that he would get groceries before you came over later, maybe a nice home cooked meal and some wine would ease the tension.

Going grocery shopping was one of those things Taehyung despised and there was on specific reason as to why. He’s a 30 year old man going shopping alone—it was a recipe to be hit on by single women his age. He could always say he’s in a relationship but he can’t go into detail and unfortunately if there’s no wedding ring on his finger then it doesn’t matter much. If anything it’s easy to note the pale ring mark on his left finger from when he used to have a wedding ring.

He walked around the market pushing a shopping cart filled with his usual groceries along with some things he knew you would like and tried to hurry this along.

“Tae?”

His breath hitched as he came to a slow stop, but he didn’t turn around or even look at Jihyun until she stood in front of him. Why did she feel the need to talk to him after what she did and why was he seeing her now of all times?

“I thought it was you,” she said shyly, “Doing some shopping?”

“Yup,” Taehyung said as he looked over a bag of coffee. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for or what the difference between dark roast or light roast but he was trying. Jihyun didn’t say anything as she looked at the bag, “Trouble deciding?”

What was she getting at? Taehyung thought. It was pretty clear he didn't want to talk to her and when he left with you the day of the lunch where they ran into her he thought it was obvious then too.

He knows he can just choose a bag of coffee and it’ll be fine but he wants to choose one you would like. You’re a coffee drinker but he’s heard you order drinks before and you like your coffee a certain way so he doesn’t want to mess this up. Jihyun bit her lip, “Light roast has more caffeine, when did you start drinking coffee?”

He set the bag back down and changed it ou yt for a dark roast one, “It’s for Y/n.”

He wasn’t going to thank her for her help because she thought it was for him but he is a little thankful that she helped him decide which you would like better. You like caffeine but you hate the taste of it. He dropped the bag down into his cart and went to look for creamer.

“So are you two really seeing each other? She seems a bit youn—“

“We are and she is but she’s mature, more mature than some other people I’ve met before,” Taehyung said trying to leave with his shopping cart, “And she understands my interests.”

He’s not going to say exactly how because it would easily give away that you’re his student but he will say that. He doesn’t feel the need to explain anything to Jihyun but he does want her to know that he’s doing just fine without her so she can stop trying to ask him about you.

“Jihyun,” Taehyung looked at her one last time and could see the look of hope in her eyes, “My name is Taehyung, not Tae.”

He turned his back to her and as if the thought of you alone brought this up, you were calling and he was smiling as he walked away and answered, “Hello?”

“I am at your place, am I too early? You’re not home, sorry I should’ve called before coming over,” you said through the phone.

“I’m just at the store but I’m heading over to pay right now,” Taehyung said, “There’s a key under the potted plant by the door, let yourself in and do you mind taking Tannie out for a walk? I haven’t had a chance.”

“Yes sir, I’d love to take him out,” you said jokingly, making him laugh softly.

He left without another word to Jihyun and she watched him walk away like she wasn't even there. She’s being selfishly unreasonable to expect anything else after what she did but she regrets it so much. She was at a point in their marriage where she thought he was losing his love for her. He was always so busy with work or something else that he wouldn’t pay attention to her. She thought he was avoiding her and in the end she fell for the attention she received from someone else and ruined her marriage with the love of her life.

Call her a cheater but don’t call her a liar, he really is or was the love of her life. They got together at such an impressionable age and it was so sweet and romantic and now she has to watch him be that way again with someone young and beautiful. It hurts.

Taehyung got back to a surprisingly quiet apartment feeling dejected, maybe you were still out with Yeontan or may—

“Boo!” You jumped up from behind his kitchen counter holding his pup up like you both surprised him and he nearly dropped the bags in surprise. A huge smile spread on his face and he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Cute.”

“What did you get?” You asked as you let Yeontan run off in order to help him get the bags. He shrugged, “Just stuff to make later. How was your painting?”

You sighed, “Tiring. I’m almost done but I feel like something is missing.”

“Just remember not to overdo it. Sometimes less is better and if you’re happy with it now it’s better to stop, I want to see it,” Taehyung said.

He realized that he was stressed this morning for nothing. You’re not mad at him because of last night when he thought you would be. He needs to stop assuming that you’ll react the way Jihyun used to. She would snap on him for every little thing but you’re not like that and it’s refreshing and reassuring so he needs to remember you’re different.

You’re like spring. Yes, you’ve got a bit of an attitude sometimes but you’re so unlike anyone he’s ever been with. You’re fun and bright and make him smile without trying. You work hard and it shows through your work.

Taehyung cupped your face in his hands, “You’re so cute.”

“I thought I was hot,” you teased with a smile as he pressed a soft kiss against your lips.

Things are good, great even, at least that’s what you think. You feel secure with Taehyung and you haven’t felt that way in a long time. Sure, you both are still very much keeping it a secret but you’re heed to it now. There’s not much you can do about it but you’re so close to graduating and then it’s all over.

You’ve finished your painting for the spring exhibit which is just around the corner and you couldn’t be happier. With that out of the way you’ve got more free time to do other things and even though you work and have classes, it opens up a lot of time for you.

Tonight you did have to work but you spent most of your shift with Jungkook up until he was off. Like usually he was off before you and he asked if you wanted him to come back and take you home but you assured him Taehyung would.

Thankfully you didn’t have to close tonight since it was a weeknight. The bar was still open but there was another closer and you got off early so Taehyung was planning on picking you up and driving you home.

As your shift came to an end you followed your usual routine of putting your things away, collecting your tips, and clocking out. Taehyung had already texted you that he was running a couple minutes behind but you were just excited to see him.

“Y/n?”

You seemed to freeze up, you had just left through the back alley to go home and there in front of you was a familiar stranger. Namjoon stood there with his hands shoved in his pockets nervously. You looked around the lot to see if you could spot Taehyung yet but you couldn’t, “What?”

“Can we talk?” He asked as he took a step closer to you, “I just don’t get what happened between us.”

“You’re still on that? Jeez, Joon I didn’t think you would be the type to not let shit go,” you scoffed in annoyance and began walking down one end of the alley to get to the main street.

Namjoon followed after you, “What do you think would have happened? You stop talking to me out of the blue right before my trip and tell me it’s over but you can’t tell me why?”

“You know why,” you turned to him angrily, “Or what? Were you hoping I was just stupid enough to not realize you slept with someone who was supposed to be my best friend?”

Namjoon came to a stop. This was the first time you ever said this to him. You had told Taehyung how much you didn’t want to confront him about it but you had no choice. You needed him to stop asking for you and just leave you alone. You scoffed, “Surprised? Hate to break it to you but you were more obvious than you think. So are you happy? Now you know why I left you… you thought you could cheat on me and I’ll never find out, what a fucking joke.”

You turned away from him, a familiar black car parked on the street and you just wanted to get away from this conversation. With a smile on your face you headed toward the car, Namjoon following after you.

He grabbed on your arm tightly, yanking you back to him and nearly making you stumble, “Come on Y/n, I fucked up, I was planning on telling you but you’ve just been igno—“

You jumped in surprise at the loud honk of a car horn and you quickly turned to Taehyung who you knew was watching and you really didn’t want him to come out and expose himself but you know that if Namjoon kept bothering you he would. You pulled your arm free, “I’m done with you, alright? Frankly I don’t ever want to speak to you again so from now on why don’t we act like we don’t know each other?”

With that you left him standing there shocked and got in Taehyung’s car.

Despite it being dark out and Taehyung’s windows being heavily tinted, he still looked out at Namjoon who stood there frozen. You had gotten in his car but he was focused on the guy who just grabbed his girlfriend roughly. Before he could ask if everything was okay, you practically lunged toward him and he caught you over the middle console with a smile on his face.

You pressed your lips against his and he couldn’t help but kiss back confidently, a hand in your hair keeping you close. He nearly forgot about the guy standing outside until he opened his eyes and saw that he was gone now. He gently pushed you away only to watch you pout and ask for more.

He ran his thumb over your pouty lip, “You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You asked, trying to kiss him again but he only leaned back trying to get you to talk. You gave him a quick kiss on his lips before sitting back, “I’m fine, I swear. That was my ex but we’re all good now.”

“That was him?” He asked, seeming bothered now and he reached out for your arm, the one Namjoon grabbed roughly, “Did he hurt you or anything?”

You just smiled as you sat back up to kiss him again. He turned away from you, “Baby, let’s talk first.”

You whined, “He didn’t and I don’t want to talk. I want to kiss you because you’re so hot and I haven’t seen you all day.”

“I know but…” he bit his lip. He should trust you. You said you’re okay and you left the guy standing there to come to him so he should trust you. He does trust you. A smile came to his face as he tried to stop stressing, “I missed you too, love.”

With that he placed a kiss on the tip of your nose before kissing you again. You happily deepened the kiss between you and it was quickly getting heated. Taehyung seems to always forget where he is when it’s just you two and he nearly forgot you were in his car again until you tried going over the middle console to get on his lap.

His hands immediately went to your waist, “Wait, let’s wait till we get to your place.”

“Why? Doesn’t this remind you of our first time?” You asked, beginning to leave soft kisses along his jaw, “We can do it again.”

He bit his lip, already feeling a little turned on at the idea but he doesn’t want it to seem like a secret when you’re together. He prefers to be in bed with you when you have sex but he’ll admit, you’ve made his sex life more exciting. You’re willing to get your hands on him anywhere you are and God did that make him feel wanted. He played with the hem of your skirt with one hand as the other reached for the lever under his seat.

“One more time,” he said with a boyish smile when you squealed happily and went back to making out with him.

The end of the semester was quickly approaching. School has gone easier now since you have your major assignments done and you’ve been able to relax a little more. It’s a bit funny to be in Taehyung’s class acting like a regular student knowing he was on top of you practically every night. What is even funnier is to tease him when you shouldn’t.

Taehyung has had to stand through this entire lecture acting like you weren’t sending him the most daring texts he’s ever received. The first one he got this morning was already enough to make him bruise his lip by how hard he bit into it.

y/n: gonna be waiting for u later in this

It was a picture of you in a cute lingerie set and every time he looked at you he couldn’t help but picture it right under your clothes. You knew that’s what he thought about, that’s why you would occasionally gnaw on the end of your pen as you looked him up and down like you just needed him right then and there. It made him stumble over his words.

The other time you texted him was halfway through the lecture. He had just gotten back to his text and looked over your text, unable to help himself from looking up at you but you were too distracted by your friends to notice him. He slid over the notification and quickly responded to your other text.

y/n: if u look at me again I won’t be able to stop myself from giving u and the whole class a show

tae: be a good girl and wait till after class

You looked up at him when you received his text and he didn’t need a response to know you would show up. He had to stay late tonight and finish up some paperwork so he wouldn’t be able to see you before you went to work. He had been bummed out about it but later on, when it was well into the evening, you did as told.

The sun was beginning to set and he was alone in his art room until you came along. He smiled at the sight of you entering the room and closed his files. You smiled mischievously, “You wanted to speak to me, sir?”

God, you knew what you did to him.

He had to bite back a groan as he looked outside the windows to make sure there was no one around, “I can’t speak to you if you’re so far.”

You walked up to him until you stood directly in front of him and he looked at you with lust in his eyes, “Bad girl, just because you’re done with your painting doesn’t mean you can distract me.”

You bit your lip, “What do you mean, sir?”

He chuckled as he ran his fingers through his hair, “Sending me all those dirty messages in class?”

Your brows furrowed cutely, “Hm… but you liked them?”

Taehyung dropped his voice down to a whisper, “I did.”

“So why are we still out here?” You used the same whispering tone and just like that, you were following him into the familiar art storage closet. Before you could even surprise him with a peak at the lingerie he was pushing you against the shelves and kissing you hard. You released a surprised whimper trying to kiss him back. Your fingers quickly toyed with the buttons of his white long sleeve and Taehyung let his hands slide under your shirt trying to inch it off your body already.

His fingers worked diligently to pull it off as he felt you begin to unbutton the front of his shirt with the need to just touch already. Once it was undone your hands moved to his hair, ruffling it up when he yanked your shirt off displaying the lingerie to his hungry eyes. Your leg went up to wrap around him as the other stayed locked to keep you from falling and Taehyung fit perfectly against you as he kissed down your neck while his other hand began to play with your skirt.

“You’re so cute,” he mumbled between kisses and you sighed with a playful roll of your eyes.

“Everytime I try to look hot for you, you just call me cute.”

He laughed, close to giggling as he pulled away to look at you again, “You look hot and cute and sexy and beautiful and I just want to eat you up every time I see you, okay?”

You smiled shyly now at his words and tried to look away in embarrassment but he just kissed you harder, forgetting where you were.

The campus was mostly empty except for those who had night classes. The art department was empty minus the two of you so you weren’t worried about being caught but maybe you should have been.

When Jihyun got to campus she wasn’t sure what she even planned on doing. The last time she saw Taehyung he barely acknowledged her and he told her to stop calling him by a nickname. She knows how badly she messed up but it’s been a year. Maybe she could talk to him and they could at least be cordial? Maybe someday they’ll look back on this strange time apart and realize that they really were meant to always be together… he’ll hopefully forgive her mistakes and they can move past this.

“Taehyung?” She called out to him as she stepped into an empty art room. She’s not sure why she thought he would still be here but she just assumed. He was always working late and she didn’t know where he lived so this was her best bet. Clearly she looks stupid now as she stands alone in a huge room where Taehyung isn’t at. This was so clearly his room too, he had some of his art hanging along with other students work and for the first time ever, she actually decided to pay attention to them.

She passed by art work belonging to students she’s never met, they were all winning pieces from seminars and contests. Just before her was a beautiful oil painting with a name and year displayed proudly in the corner. It was one of Taehyung’s mentees.

‘Full Bloom’

By Y/n L/n, December 10, 2022

___ University

She seemed to freeze up at the name. It couldn’t be…

“Ow!”

A light voice whined as a loud thump followed and suddenly everything seemed to be connecting. There was laughter that followed and her attention immediately drifted to the direction of the noise. It went quiet again but it was too late, Jihyun was already walking to the closet.

At this point she didn’t care what she saw, she just needed to know if she was right or not.

Taehyung rubbed soothing circles against the back of your head as he whispered apologies for accidentally making you bump your head against a shelf. You had a cute pout on your lips at the pain and the fact that the two of you had to stop. All you’ve done is make out but your clothes was half off and you just wanted to keep going.

You barely had your lips brushing against his with the sudden yank on the door seemed to frighten you both away from each other. Taehyung’s initial instinct was to distance himself from you as soon as possible worried that it was a school head or worse another student but he thought about you instead. Your shirt was completely off while his was merely unbuttoned and knowing you were more undressed than him made him immediately hold you to his chest and turn his body toward the door to hide you better.

“Oh my god.”

You pressed your face into his front in embarrassment and a little bit of fear but Taehyung turned toward the door, brows scrunching together and voice raising, “Jihyun?”

You jumped, slightly startled and tried to pull away. Taehyung softened his hold on you just enough for you to snag your shirt off the shelf and hurry to put it on. Jihyun looked between you two, “She’s your student. You’re sleeping with your fucking student?”

Taehyung hushed her, “What are you doing here? Get out!”

You dressed yourself back up properly as Taehyung did the same and he seemed to look back at you once more before stepping out of the closet to follow his ex wife. You would be lying if you said your hands weren’t shaking and your face wasn’t heating up. This was all your fault.

You’re the one who came onto him in the beginning.

You’re the one who practically pushed him into a relationship and put his job on the line. You’re the one who did all this knowing his ex wife was still stupid enough to look for him.

God, you were the worst.

Feeling close to tears you hurriedly left the closet listening to Taehyung’s deep voice arguing with Jihyun.

“You come to my job and you—“

“I came to talk about us! I didn’t know you would be in the closet trying to fuck your student! What happened to you?” Jihyun shouted, “Is it because of me? Did I push you to this, Tae? I never meant to hurt you, I just…”

You looked around the art room for your things trying to hide your face because for some reason this suddenly felt wrong. It shouldn’t feel that way yet it does and all you wanted to do was escape. Why was she yelling at him like you’re a homewrecker?

Was it because you were his student or young? Or was it because she wanted him to forgive her cheating and realized he wouldn’t?

Taehyung turned to you as you headed straight for the door and he went right after you, “Y/n, wait,” but you were gone and practically running away. He could chase you but what would he do if someone saw him and asked what was wrong? You had to work soon and he would just have to wait even if he didn’t want to.

“You need to leave,” Taehyung said sternly as he glared at Jihyun, “I don’t know what you thought was going to happen by coming here but you need to go.”

“Taehyung, she’s your student, I just… do you realize the trouble you can get into?”

“Y/n graduates in four months and either way it’s none of your fucking business,” Taehyung said genuinely sounding angry and Jihyun can’t remember the last time he sounded this upset. Not even when he found out she was cheating, he had just hid his face in his hands like he wanted to cry and asked for a divorce. He scoffed, “Or what? Are you going to say something about it?”

“I—I don’t know,” Jihyun said truthfully, “But this isn’t you. You would never sink so low to sleep with a student and I know it’s my fault. I hurt you and I pushed you away and now you’re acting like a completely different person. You’ve never yelled at me before. Taehyung come on… we were her age when we started dating, you can’t possibly expect anything to come out of this relationship. She’s young and naive and she’s not looking fo—“

“Stop talking about Y/n like you know her,” Taehyung said through gritted teeth, “And stop acting like you have any moral fucking high ground. Did you forget what you did to me? You threw away ten years for a man you’re not even with anymore! Why would I care about what you have to say?”

Jihyun looked shocked like she was really surprised to be called out this way by him. He was packing up his things quickly as he said, “And we know it’s wrong because I’m her professor and she’s my student but… but it’s not wrong. We’re adults and we’ve connected and if you want to completely destroy another relationship of mine and put my job on the line because you’re an insecure woman who thought I would want you after what you did to me… then you’re cruel too.”

“Taehyung…”

“Do what you want Jihyun, tell other people, I don’t care anymore but don’t mention Y/n. If you want anyone to suffer then make it me, I’m the one who divorced you,” Taehyung said with a tired sigh, “But I’m done being nice. I tried to be cordial every time we saw each other after the divorce but if you want to get back at me then whatever, there’s nothing I can do.”

She knew it wasn’t technically wrong. You were an adult and so was he and the only thing that made it wrong was the fact that he was your college professor. She hated you from the second she saw the way Taehyung looked at you and all she wanted to do was ruin this. She was a selfish woman who made a mistake only to realize it was too late to regret it.

It’s the same as Namjoon, he made a mistake and when he found out there was possibly someone else, he came to regret it.

Now Namjoon’s out of the picture and Jihyun should be too but all she wants to do is get him back. She’s willing to look past this and get back with him but he doesn’t want that and she can’t force him to. Without a word, Jihyun turned on her heel and left him in his art room with no clue as to what she would do about this.

If she went right to the Dean then he would lose his job and probably never be able to work at another college again. The University wouldn’t want the news out so he wouldn’t have to worry about it getting out unless Jihyun told other people. If she admitted that it was you he’s not sure what would happen. These things were always easier for the man and he doesn’t want anyone to do anything to hurt you.

God, it was a mistake to get involved with a student… but not because of you. If you two had just developed a relationship when you weren’t a student any longer things would have been different.

He was sitting at his desk now with his head in his hands just thinking of everything that could happen. He could easily work with his parents at a museum. He could continue his art somewhere else and not teach but what about you? What if people assumed he had always favorited you? What if they thought he helped with your art? Your submission for the seminar would immediately be disqualified if they had even an ounce of suspicion that he helped—especially with his status and credentials in the art world.

Fuck, he screwed it up badly for you.

You went ghost for two days. You didn’t answer his calls or texts and you skipped out on class. It worried him and you knew it but you couldn’t face him. It’s not that you feel like you did anything wrong but you’re embarrassed. She’s his ex wife so she doesn’t mean shit to you but you’re sure you confirmed her original suspicions and that pissed you off. You’re just some young and naive slut who he’s keeping a secret out of shame. It’s not true but you just know that’s what she’s thinking and you couldn’t stick around to hear it that night. You still want to be with Taehyung but You’re sportier that she knocked some sense into him or something. Maybe he’s blowing up your phone because he’s trying to end things. You also know you should go back to class but if he just completely pretends like you don’t exist or worse you find out that everyone knows, you’re scared at what would happen.

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” Bora said, touching your leg to comfort you. After weeks, maybe even months of keeping her in the dark, you finally had to speak up. She was your best friend too and you needed them both to make you feel better. Jungkook sat on your couch with an arm around your shoulders, “Seriously Y/n, you haven’t and I honestly don’t think Taehyung feels any different. You need to talk to him.”

Your friends were right and yet you couldn’t say yes.

They spent the day with you even if Jungkook had to go to work. Technically you were supposed to work but he was going to cover your shift because you clearly weren’t feeling well.

Hours passed with them at your side watching movies and when you were suddenly feeling better there was a loud knock on your door. Jungkook went to answer it before you could move and you couldn’t make out anything past muffled noises. Shortly after, a familiar face appeared at your door and Jungkook was letting Taenyung in without asking you first.

He didn’t say anything as he looked at you and you tried to hide behind Bora but she was standing up nervously, “Mr. Kim.”

Taehyung smiled stiffly and he turned to Jungkook who seemed to understand. “Come on Bora, I gotta go get ready for work anyway.”

“Y/n,” Taehyung finally said when it was just you two, “Baby, I’m sorry, I had no idea she would just show up like that and I really don’t want you to think I’m still involved with her. I’m not lying when I say you’re the only one I care about a—“

“It was so embarrassing,” you finally broke down now that your comfort person was here. Taehyung immediately went to your side, a pout on his face as he wrapped you in his arms. You were embarrassed to be caught in such a manner, like a dirty secret.

Hell, you weren’t even fully dressed and what if it had been anyone but Jihyun? A teacher? Another one of your classmates?

“I’m sorry,” Taehyung whispered into your ear and he really was. When you finally confronted Namjoon, he let it go. He hasn’t bothered you since and yet Jihyun just kept pushing and pushing. How could your relationship with Namjoon end more maturely than his with Jihyun? He never meant for you to get hurt.

“Does anyone know?” You asked with teary eyes and he wiped them away feeling his heart drop to his stomach painfully. He shook his head no, “No, I mean I don’t think so but please baby I won’t let her do anything to hurt you.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” you cried harder, “I just… well we both knew what we were getting ourselves into but I’ve never felt like such a…slut.”

“Don’t say that,” Taehyung said seriously, “Y/n, I love you.”

You looked at him with wide surprised eyes, “What?”

He didn’t back down from your gaze and with a softened voice he said, “I love you, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you. This isn’t just some secret that I’m ashamed to admit. I want to be open about our relationship, so please don’t think you mean less to me because of what happened. I wasn’t embarrassed to have the truth come out to Jihyun, I was mad that she was there when she shouldn’t have been.”

“Yeah but, what if she says something?” You asked, still unable to comprehend that he’s said he loves you twice already.

“Then I’ll quit, I’ll work somewhere else and trust me if the school finds out they’re not going to tell anyone. They’ll want it to remain quiet so the school doesn’t get hate from it. I'm not going to let it hurt you and I don’t want it to drive you away from me. You’ve been ignoring me and that hurt so much,” Taehyung said with a pout as he wiped another tear from you. You felt ridiculous for being so emotional when usually you’re the complete opposite.

Usually Taehyung had to ask you over and over again how you feel to get you to talk about whatever is on my mind yet right now you can’t seem to stop crying. You sniffled back some tears, “But we can’t be open about it. I still have a couple months before I graduate.”

“I know,” Taehyung said, “But I’ve sent in my resignation le—“

“What!?” You sat up and pushed away from him, “You said everything would be fine.”

“It will be, Y/n. I promise. I’ve gotten a lot of job offers from other people in the industry and they would easily take me and pay more. I was originally going to quit after the divorce but I didn’t. The only reason why I stayed the extra year is because I had some really good artist’s in their final year who I wanted to support,” Taehyung said and you knew one of them was you. The others probably included Seungjin and other classmates that Taehyung mentored but it was very clear right now he was talking about you.

“Anyway, I planned on leaving all along and even if Jihyun never says anything about us, I would still leave after you graduate,” Taehyung pet your hair soothingly, “And like I said I’m not going to let her ruin you if she’s tries to so please don’t cry anymore and please baby, please don’t ignore me or push me away.”

Nothing he said was a lie. The only reason why he never brought it up to you was because he didn’t need to. He knew you would be graduating and if your relationship lasted then he would tell you about his resignation once you were done with school. He just didn’t think he would have to tell you like this and make you think you’re the reason his career is about to change.

He waited an entire year to decide he wanted to quit teaching but it’s what he wanted to do all along. He enjoys it but he wants to start fresh… with you. He doesn’t want to have to listen to the opinion of others when the two of you become public.

“You love me?” You asked with the cutest set of puppy dog eyes he’s ever seen that it made his heart feel like it would burst. He nodded his head to answer your question and you sniffled, “I love you too.”

A small laugh in relief left his lips as he hugged you close making you whine about wetting his shirt with your stupid crying. You were so perfect to him. You were confident and forward yet deep down you were a crybaby and needy and loveable and he really did love you. He hugged you tighter in his arms.

“I know you hate it when I call you cute but you’re so fucking cute,” Taehyung said as he kissed your hair, “And I love you so much and I would never want to change the way we got together or make you feel like you’re not important to me because you are.”

He looked down at you with loving eyes, “And I don’t want to keep this a secret anymore.”

In the end Jihyun never told anyone. She figured she owed it to Taehyung after being so shitty the last few years. It had hurt her to watch him be happy with someone else but from the moment she saw you two at the restaurant she knew you made him happy. She couldn’t take that away from him after what she had done.

::.

ok yayyyy finallt part 2 is done. this is in fact the final part so pls understand. feel free to send in asks about them or drabbles

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog g @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802 @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys s @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun @sunnikthv @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling

his special secret taglist: @daisygirl7 @cu1tur3dl0v3dpuppi3s

@joyjunk @ohsweetmimosa @llallaaa @jjkliver7 @arosesstorm @taebaelove @youdonwantoknow @sl1pth0t @boxxkoo @jooniesxbby @saikikjin @screamertannie @starlostluvv @jksthiccthighs @kingarthurscat @roundbuttonsuga @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @jeonjk25 @Watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @shimisushi [the rest will be tagged in reblog ]

#kim taehyung #taehyung smut #bts taehyung #taehyung au #taehyung drabble #taehyung #kim taehyung smut #kim taehyung bts #Taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #taehyung fic #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfic #his special secret

1K notes · View notes

carolmunson · 10 months

Text

caught like a fool without a line. (older!modern!eddie)

part five of who knows how many. orange colored sky setlist.

summary: we've been seeing eddie for a month and the fear starts to settle in. with eddie's past and present making things difficult and your own insecurities brewing, things come to a bit of a head one night when you're out at a bar. featuring older!robin and our favorite guy older!steve from @loveshotzz series 'all i really want is you'.

tw: age gappy (reader and eddie are 12 years apart, but reader is late late 20s/early 30s and eddie and late late 30s/early 40s throughout this story so it's not like so bad). drunk!reader, alcohol consumption, discussions of eddie's promiscuous past (i know some people don't like when eddie is a slut), implied that reader wears eddie's clothes to bed but not that reader is small. gifs by: @keerysbrandnewbg and @eddiemunsonsource

songspiration: open | rhye and feelings | lauv

You swirled the big ice cube in the tumbler with an unenthusiastic flair, making the orangey red liquid in the glass nearly spill. “And I don’t get it, we had a really nice first date and then made out again the next week and talked all the time and now he’s barely texting me back,” you complain, the tart grapefruit of your friend’s new take on an Aperol Spritz floods your mouth at your next sip.

“Maybe he’s just busy,” your friend Charlie suggests from behind the bar, “He’s older, you said, right? He might just not be on his phone as much. Do you like the drink? Is it too bitter?”

“It’s bitter but not in a bad way, in a good citrussy way,” you nod, “And yeah he might not be on his phone as much but then why just sort of suddenly drop off and barely respond? Like, look at this.” You take out your phone, laying it on the bar and scrolling through a plethora of blue texts with some sprinkles of gray in between, “I look so pathetic.” “I think you just really like him,” she shrugs, smirking, “And I think that’s good, you haven’t been this excited about someone for a little bit.” “Yeah, but every time I’m excited about someone it bites me in the ass,” you lean on the palm of your hand, flipping your phone over, “Plus like, I’m not trying to be with anyone like that right now.”

Your friend gives you a look, “Okay, sure.”

“What do you mean ‘okay, sure’?” you scoff.

“You’re not trying to be with anyone like your ex,” Charlie corrects, her dark red lips pulling into a smirk, “You go on and on about how you just want someone to take care of things for you. Maybe he’s that kind of dude.”

“He has someone come every Sunday to clean his house for him,” you sip the drink again, “I don’t think he can take care of anything for me, considering I can clean my own house.” The bar slowly starts to fill up with the after work crowd, leaving Charlie to run back and forth between you and pouring beers for incoming patrons.

“He can afford to have someone come and clean his house,” she says with a smirk, holding down the tap while she fills a glass with Lagunitas, "That's kind of hot." You flip your phone back over and sigh, no new messages.

If anything is true in the music and art world Eddie is involved in it's that Eddie Munson is a professional loverboy. Never with someone for too long, never long enough for them to want something more than fun -- never long enough for 'Are you my boyfriend?' never long enough for 'What are we?' It got easier the older he got, the less women and men cared about labels. You were right to make that judgement about his key carabiner hanging on the front of his keys. Eddie Munson is a slut, and everyone knows it but you.

He had two actual girlfriends in his early twenties, but nothing quite like his friendship with Steve. 'Platonic life partner, sometimes,' they'd list it as -- never too afraid to get affectionate. Hugs, kisses on the forehead, Eddie held him so many nights when Emma died he felt like they left an indent in the center of the bed. He touched and loved the people who loved him back, but to anyone else – he never wanted to get too close. He always gave out just enough of him – enough for people to keep wanting more, a satisfaction he basked in now since he was such a loner in high school with no notches to his belt.

But now he’s blabbering on to Robin over a huge plate of nachos about how you texted him all day. You texted him all day and he had his phone charging in the kitchen while he was upstairs in his office so he didn’t know and now it’s very clear that you’re upset.

"Okay? How is this different from the girl you were seeing over Christmas?" Robin laughs over a mouthful of loaded nachos, a frosty pink Frosé next to her to beat the heat. Her eyes crinkle closed, a smattering of freckles stretching on the apples of her cheeks when she smiles. The heat of a sunburn runs soft pink over her nose, outside of the gray in her sand blonde hair that she'll never dye, she looks almost the same as she did in high school. “So you didn’t text her back,” she shrugs, “You leave her alone, she fades off into the distance – just like the girl before that, and the guy before that, and the girl before that. Why're you talking about it like it's the end of the world?” "I care," he groans, turning his phone to show Robin your messages. You'd sent them every few hours, but most of the messages from the morning and afternoon were from when he was working -- phone nestled on the charger down in the kitchen while he clacked away on code upstairs. By the time he saw them he was embarrassed, and you were probably already at your friend's bar. Eddie tries to explain the whole situation while Robin scrolls through with a careful and soft expression, a tiny smile forming on her face.

“I already fucked it up,” Eddie sighs, pulling his hair up into a ponytail with volume hair stylists would envy. He runs his hand over his jaw, following the edge of it to land behind his neck where he squeeze gently on the muscle.

Robin shrugs again, passing his phone back to him, “Par for the course, kid.”

His eyes narrow, “I’m older than you.”

“Whatever,” she rolls her eyes, “You always fuck it up, Ed. That's your thing. You walk into a room and someone leaves crying. You've never done the whole sappy love thing with someone, why do you think you're changing your tune now?”

“I know but – fuck Robin, I didn’t even sleep with her yet,” he says a little louder than he intends. His tattooed hand wraps around the Pilsner glass in front of him, dripping in condensation, bringing it to his lips.

“That’s a new development,” she raises her brows, crossing her legs, "You never wait this long."

“I just…I don’t…I shit – I don’t know.”

“What did Steve say?” Robin asks, teeth biting down on the straw to her drink, “He always has good girl advice.”

“I haven’t even told Steve.”

“At all?!” she nearly spits out the frose all over the nachos.

“Rob we just buried Em,” he explains softly, “Like, she’s not even fuckin’ cold yet. I can’t just come out of the woodwork five months later like ‘Hey man, think I actually met a girl I’d consider a future with. We’ve been seeing each other for a month’. And like – what if I’m just psyching myself out? What if this is just an early midlife crisis?”

Robin takes a slow sip, nodding while he speaks before taking a pause. “Ed, I think you’ll feel better if you tell Steve,” she offers, “I think he’d get your head straight about it. But in the meantime, you should text her back.”

“What do I even say?” he huffs, shoving a loaded nacho into his mouth. “Try honesty with a woman for once in your entire life, Rockstar boy,” Robin plasters on a customer service smile that makes him let out a frustrated ‘tsss’, “It won’t kill you.” "Here, I'll text Nance and ask her -- she's our next best bet," Robin takes out her phone and types with the fervor of a teenager with a sugar high. Eddie sips his beer, looking at the screen of his phone while the cursor to type blinks back at him.

You stumble out of the bar, too crowded now to have fun with your friend. Over tired and over served you make your way down the street and around the corner, stopping to lean against the brick wall of a different bar when you feel your phone buzz in your hand. You take a minute, taking in your surroundings. People are so loud down here, and everyone is so pretty. Street lights are there and gone and there and gone as cars whiz passed on Delancey, the bustle of the Friday night life in the LES is a buzz with excitement. You're already a little down for the count. Your phone feels like a paper weight in your hand, sighing with satisfaction at the notificaiton on the screen. But your chest still aches with annoyance, how many times were you gonna get drunk at a bar with a swollen heart over some dumb boy? Man? Guy?

You don't want him to come save you, you know how to get home. You can see the green bulbs of the train entrance and the glow of the McDonalds 'M' on the corner in the distance. Down the stairs, one train into Brooklyn, cross platform transfer -- you've done it drunker than this countless times before. You text Charlie with an air of victory before putting your phone back in your smart black faux leather bag slung over your shoulder. The warm summer air flows over your legs, catching the hem of your a-line skirt -- the light material flowing in the breeze. Time isn't working quite right for you but it feels like it's been five minutes and he hasn't shown up, so you make your way to the edge of the corner to cross.

"Whoa there, Peach," you hear Eddie's gruff voice from the side of you, the pull on your arm the same as when he steadied you at Trader Joe's a month ago, "Careful now."

You pull out of his hold, glassy eyes focused on the black and white stripes on the street ahead of you, "I know what I'm doin'."

“Where are you goin’, huh?” he asks softly. Eddie steps in front of you, guiding you to the light post to get out of the way of other pedestrians.

“Home,” you slur, “M’goin home. Trainssright there.”

“I don’t think you’re good to take the train,” his voice is gentle, hand coming out to hold you at the waist, “I can get you a car.”

“I’m fine.” It's the only sentence that comes out lucid, his jaw ticks.

"You don't look fine," he looks down into your glassy eyes, a look he's seen before. The way his mama would drown herself in whiskey and stumble into the kitchen so the bruises would't hurt so bad. The way an old fling would slur to him about how she can't live without him. The way you look so sad and it's his fault.

"I'm. Fine," you reiteratie. The light changes, the bright white of the walk sign flashes across the street. You go to pass him but his hands place themselves on your shoulders. "You really wanna get boiled alive on the train?" he asks with a smile, "You don't wanna take a car?" You sigh, why does he have to be so handsome? The gin from your last two drinks travels from your head to your thighs, pulling them together at the sight of his smile. He has that ratty vest on, a CBGC t-shirt sticking to him under it, the sleeves completely torn off. He smells like cedar and citrus again, a hint of a left over cigarette. His grays catch the light of the over head lamp, bouncing like tinsel in his pony tail sitting on the crown of his head. "Can we go to your house?" you ask, voice raised a higher octave than normal. His face blanches, "Aw honey, that's not a good idea. I don't want you to think that I --" "Please?"

"Thanks, have a good night," Eddie waves off the delivery man with a smile as he rides away on his bike. With plastic in hand he makes his way back up the stairs where you've set up shop on one of the stools in his kitchen, head down on the island counter.

"Food's here," he says quietly. Dealing with drunk you was very much like dealing with drunk Robin in the early 2010s, overgrown toddler in a bad mood. You let out a half hearted 'Yay', head coming up, eyes half closed in the kind of sleepiness a few mixed drinks and some beers can send you into. He goes into the fridge and pulls out two bottles of Poland Spring and a beer for himself. The waters get placed in front of you while he tends to getting the food plated up.

You ignore the water -- Blue Moon bottle staring right at you, and to be honest -- a cold cirtussy beer sounds sooo good right now. You reach forward, the glass ice cold against your palm now that the liquor has fully settled, heating up your skin. The sound of glass on the counter cobbles through the kitchen when you slide it closer to you, alerting Eddie to the noise.

“Excuse me,” he says sharply, snatching the bottle out of your hand, “Can you behave?”

You pout when his eyes narrow at you, heart thumping guiltily in your chest, shame brewing in your skin. You nod back at him with sad eyes, a twinge plucking in your heart strings.

“Don’t give me that face,” he warns, “Don't act up."

“I don’t like when you’re mean,” you mumble softly, running your fingers in shapes over the butcher's block counter top. He sighs, plating your sandwich and pulling your fries from the bag. He kisses your temple while he slides the plate in front of you. "I'm sorry, honey," he says quietly, but gin always puts you in the mood to argue. "You don't have to talk to me like, like -- you don't have to talk to me -hic!- like I'm a kid," you hurtle out, surprised at your own gumption, "I'm not."

"I know," he says, putting the bags into his recycling bin under the sink, "I'm not talking to you in any kind of way Peach I -- " "You don't even like me," you state. His head cocks to the side, leaning on his hands while they hold on to the edge of the island. "Who said that?" "I was -hic!- I was talking to someone at the bar about --" you start, lump building in your throat, "About you and um -- they said, they said it sounds like --" Your eyes water, "Like I'm just for fun." "Oh," he says, looking down at his hands. The weight of this conversation falling into his stomach from his chest like a deep pit.

"Like I'm just fun for you to play with -- but like, you don't even wanna have -- you don'even wanna h-have-have seggzwithme so like -- you don't even like me." More and more if your insecurities flow out of you like a broken faucet, tears starting to slip down your cheeks.

"And like you probably don't even think I'm pretty."

"Oh, baby, no," he coos, brows tilted in sympathy while you drunkenly let all your sober fears out, "I think you're so pretty."

"So pretty," you repeat, wiping your face with your hands, "But that's it."

Eddie takes a deep breath, coming over to you and pressing his warm soft lips to your cheek, "Let's talk about this in the morning, sweetheart. I'm gonna get upstairs ready for you."

"I should just go home," you sniffle, embarrassment starting to flow through you with your bloodstream, burning all your pores, "I'm sorry." "No, no, don't go home," he assures, nose nuzzling against your cheek, "Stay. Just stay."

He makes sure you eat, watching you come back to yourself the fuller and more hydrated you get. You're easy to lead upstairs, pliant and tired now, needy almost -- not that you'd ever admit to it. You tease him about his 'old man pills' when he takes out his perscription high dose Motrin he got for some old back pain. Great for when you might get a killer hangover these days. You grimace at the Pedialyte mixture he has you drink before you get tucked into his bed -- out before you can even feel him grab the pillows and a throw from the other side of you. He settles in downstairs on the sectional, sighing while he thinks about the way your face scrunches when you're about to cry. He flicks through his Hulu options on the big screen in front of him but nothing really seems to catch his attention. Mind wandering to you asleep upstairs but knowing better than to crawl into bed next to you when you're not yourself enough to say it's okay. The familiar buzz of his phone goes off on the coffee table, when he picks it up his face is on the front screen while someone calls in on FaceTime. "You're callin' late, man," Eddie grins lazily, socked feet sticking out to rest on the worn walnut table in front of him, "You okay?" "Yeah me and Bandit just got in from camping. Got some pics of him to send you, he's such a scamp." "You have fun?" he asks, rubbing his eyes. Eddie's voice is quiet while he speaks making Steve's head cock to the side. The lights changes on his face while he walks from the living room to his bedroom. "Yeah we had a lot of fun," Steve starts, "Why're you whispering?" "What do you mean?" Eddie asks, getting up off the couch to pad back into the kitchen. "You're talkin' all quiet," Steve smirks, "You got a girl over or something?" Ed puts his phone down and huffs while he grabs a bag of chips from the cabinet. Steve giggle, leaning his head in closer to the screen. "You do, don't you?" he guffaws, "Am I interrupting?" "She's sleeping," Eddie says softly, picking up the phone again and leaning against the counter. "Aw, so you ended up texting her back? Good."

"What the fuck? Who told you that?" Eddie's brows furrow, spitting through a mouthful of chips. "Robin, obviously." The light changes on him again while he makes his way to his own kitchen. Bandit's little pants and huffs echoing into the phone, "You think Nancy came up with the 'Hey pretty girl,' opening? She's never been a flirt."

"Well it worked so, congrats."

"Why didn't you tell me about her?" Steve pulls his own bag of chips out. They crunch together. "It just didn't seem right," he shrugs, "Y'know with Emma it's hard to be like, 'Hey I think I might actually see a future with this girl I've only been seeing for a few weeks.' Like, you just lost the love of your life."

"I'm not gonna be sad to hear that you're into someone, Ed," Steve smiles softly, voice calm, "Tell me about her."

So he does, he tells Steve about how he kept running into you that day at Trader Joe's and how he felt so stupid for not waiting at the doors for you but he was too scared. You were so cute in your bike shorts and sneakers, so careful in how you chose the fruit you were gonna get. When he saw you on the platform he knew it was like he was getting a second chance -- "Maybe Em thought you should stop being such a whore and sent her over," Steve laughs. Ed rolls his eyes but can't hold back his chuckle, watching as Steve rests his chin on the heel of his hand while he listens. Eddie talks about the picnic date, how he immediately felt comfortable telling you about his mom. The rain, the kiss in his apartment -- how he could've fucked you but didn't. How all your little dates had gone since.

"Oh so you like her," Steve nods.

"I'm scared," Eddie says quietly. "Scared?"

"What if it's just a fluke and I hurt her? Or I get hurt?" Eddie asks, "And like -- please don't take this the wrong way but like -- what if I put in all this effort and then lose her?"

"Like how I lost Em?"

Eddie nods slowly, not wanting to say the quiet part out loud. He talks about what you said when you got back to his place, how you think he doesn't really like you, how he doesn't think you're pretty. You're just for fun. "But this doesn't feel like 'just for fun', does it?" Steve challenges gently, "Cause if she was just for fun you would've texted me about if she could deep throat or not."

Eddie chuckles darkly, pink rising on his cheeks -- Steve chuckles too. Still gross boys who are gross.

"You should tell her how you feel," he encourages, "What's the worst that can happen?" "Everything."

"Okay," Steve shrugs, "I lost everything. And what happened?"

"We all came to pick you up." "Exactly. We'll be here to pick you up, too. Don't like..." Steve sighs, "Don't just immediately throw something away just because you're not used to it. The more you stand there and think about what you want, the less she's gonna think you want it."

"I know..." "So let her know you want it."

They talk for an hour, both cozied up on their respective couches -- Bandit immediately getting in the frame and yelping at Eddie's face on the screen. The seize in Eddie's chest loosens because maybe this could be okay. Now he just has to make sure you know it.

You wake up the next morning, groggy and dry -- but thankfully not nearly as hungover as you were expecting. Your joints hurt, your stomach's a little jumbled, but no headache and that's what matters the most. You shift in his crisp sheets, turning around to see that the bed is empty next to you -- pillows and throw blanket gone with him. You slept alone. You look at your phone on the bedside table next to a full bottle of water. You chug it while you check your notifications -- 6:11 AM. If anything was true, you always woke up too early when you drank too much the night before. The water sits heavy in your belly, pressing your bladder which was already screaming for you to go to the bathroom. With a sigh you stand up, and when you do, the embarrassment of the night before settles in. Your emotional hangover.

You pad to the bathroom and pee, seeing your face in the mirror like you did the night you got rained out. Your makeup is smeared, face a little bloated -- you do your best to wash it off. The cool water feels good against your skin, still hot from the liquor and dehydration. You pat your face dry and leave the bathroom, lingering at the top of the stairs where he's laying on the couch, already awake. "G'morning," you rasp out. He perks up, head tilting up to look at you from his place in the living room. "Morning, peach," he smiles, "You feelin' okay?"

You nod, ungracefully stomping down the metal steps of the spiral staircase while you get your footing, "Your old man pills must be magic or something."

Eddie pulls back the blanket, scooching back against the cushions to make room for you to lay down next to him, "C'mere, baby."

C'mere, baby runs down your spine, making your throat catch. You make your way towards the couch, crawling in next to him. The living room is quiet, with just some early morning sun pooling into the windows -- like you two are the only people awake on the street this morning. He covers you up, wasting no time wrapping himself around you and pulling you into him, "Did you sleep okay?"

"Yeah," you nod into his chest, the scent of his skin mixing with the faint smell of cirtus and cedar, "Did you?" "Normally I'm fine on the couch," he says, voice grizzly and sleepy, "But I didn't sleep a wink last night." "Oh, I'm sorry. I could've slept on the couch or I --" "No, it's not that," he shakes his head, catching your gaze, "Probably would've slept better if you were next to me." Your cheeks burn, a smile splittling across your face, "Well I'm here now."

"You are," he nods, leaning up to run his thumb over the apple of your cheek where a stray piece of glitter sits. Remnants of your makeup that you couldn't wash away.

"I'm um...sorry for how I acted last night," you confess, "That's not like -- that's not how I am."

"Don't be sorry," he assures quietly, "I understand." You're both quiet for a moment, the hum of the central air fuzzing the silence between you. "You're not just for fun, peach," he says, a seriousness to his normally playful voice, "I'm sorry I made you feel like that." "I um -- I'm sorry I kind of went a little insane," you shrug, feeling small, "I didn't mean to text all those times and then come here and cry and like --" "Stop apologizing," he says, thumb grazing your lower lip to stop you, "You were just feeling a way, that's okay. I get it." He takes his thumb away, leaning down to give you a kiss that sends you reeling. Warm and soft, delicate. His hands lead his arms around you again, smiling when you reach up to cup his cheek. "I like you," Eddie smirks against your mouth. "I like you, too," you smile when he breaks away. "The deli's open on the corner if you want me to run over and get a bacon, egg, and cheese," he offers quietly. "Why do I feel like you were gonna do that anyway?" you ask in the same tone. "I was," he grins again, "I just wanted to impress you by asking." He sits up, clamboring over you to get some coffee started so it'll be done by the time he gets back. You wait patiently for him, rolling your eyes while he shoves his socked feet in his slides, leaving the house in his pajamas of a t-shirt and black joggers. You prepare the coffees, feeling domestic like you live here -- getting used to where things are already.

He comes back twenty minutes later, sighing when the air conditioning hits him as the door opens, "It's already like, 80 degrees."

"Gross," you reply, face scrunching in the way that he likes, "Coffee is ready." "Oh, thank you." His eyes glitter at the gesture, seeing that you used the same mugs from when he had you over the first time. Those are his favorites, but you'll learn that eventually. The sandwhiches are tossed on the butcher block counter where you cried last night, but your embarrassment melts away when you feel him wrap himself around you again -- like he can't get enough. "I'm playing a show on Thursday at House of Yes," he says, "They're doing a metal theme'd night." "Yeah?" you ask, hands reaching for the plastic baggy and taking out both of your sadwhiches wrapped in foil. His arms still tight around your middle while you maneuver around your kitchen. "You should come," he asks, kissing the top of your head, "I'll get you a ticket."

"I don't know if that's really my scene," you shrug, twisting in his hold to face him, "I'm not like -- I'm not cool and underground like that." "So?" he quirks his brow, "You can be cool and underground for one night to hang out with your hottie rockstar boy-toy."

"That's so gross that you described yourself that way," you laugh, pushing out of his hug and opening your sandwhich, "Like, so cringey, babe." "Babe," he repeats back to you, "I like that. You can call me 'babe' whenever you want." "Duly noted," you agree, teeth sinking into the bread of the roll and breaking into the warm and gooey center. The jumble in your stomach starting to fade away while the grease of the egg soothes it. Eddie takes his sandwhich and coffee to the living room, taking his phone off the coffee table to open up his text conversation with Steve:

she called me babe.

i literally can't even breathe right now.

prev | next

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fluff #older!eddie munson #older!eddie #older!steve harrington #stranger things au #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #eddie munson fic

864 notes · View notes

wondeurwall · 3 months

Note

Idk if u've seen rafayel's new oracle story BUT IT HAS BEEN PLAGUING MY MIND

"What if i make it up to you like this yeah?"

MAKE UP SEX WITH RAFAYEL.

TELL ME DO YOU THINK THEY'LL HAVE IT OFTEN?? But ones in a more playful sort of way not really full on arguments if you get what i mean 😩💗💗

oh my god please, nonnie, rafayel's oracle story is literally the only thing on my mind. i've been so unwell

i went in with one dream and spent everything i had because my luck is abysmal. and, the worst part?? I CAN'T EVEN BE UPSET ABOUT IT 😭🫵🏻 it wasn't what i expected. it's kind of funny ASKDDJKD!! i thought it'd be myth related. instead, i was blessed with rafayel.... kisses... 🥰

itty bitty nsfw 🔞 mdni.

rafayel would 100% down for playful makeup sex 😵‍💫💕 honestly, he'd pull any kind of excuse just to get you undressed and fucked out in bliss. he loves how pretty you look when you cum 💕 even more when he and you can get a good laugh in between because he'd appreciate lightheartedness in intimacy. after all, he wouldn't have sex with anyone else! he needs trust to do those sweet, silly things too, and he can only ever do that with you.

because i think he'd find a lot of fun with it, he'd do it often, but the sex doesn't necessarily need to be absolutely mind-blowing once initiated. banter is fun, even better when it leads to sex, but he just loves being close like that: naked and a tangled mess of limbs with the warmth coming from your body to his.

he's a night owl, so he's unintentionally ignoring your texts. maybe, even misses a few phone calls or immediately ends an incoming one, thinking it's an alarm he set up before. part of the day goes by and you're coming into his home to make sure he's doing alright. there's no use in pretending that you aren't upset. because you are upset! you didn't hear from him 💔 but, you find that he's just now out of bed after finishing a new piece of art.

"were you asleep this whole time?" you ask.

he rambles on about a sudden inspiration he had and that, "it'd be wrong to rest when the idea was too good."

you listen, nod, but truthfully some of his words go in and out the other ear. you frown at him. and, when he asks why you have that look on your face, you're quick to say, "i'm sure you can figure out why."

he knows. of course, he knows. he reads you well, just like you do him. then, his shoulders are a little hunched over, and he's laughing!

"i've really spoiled you," he says softly. his hands are on your hips the next second, pulling you close. "mm, why not let me make it up to you? i'm awake now, and we have the rest of the day to ourselves."

he lifts you and lays you on the couch. kisses you while he thinks about how many times he can get you gushing on his fingers and tongue before his cock.

OR, if you're the one making it up to him 🥹

accidentally spilling paint on a good shirt of his? you're panicking as soon as it happens. your hands move faster than your mouth, and you're halfway with unbuttoning his shirt before telling him he needs to take it off.

his laughter is what stops you. it dawns on you! but, to be fair, your thoughts don't have anything else besides: the shirt must be washed before it really stains.

"someone's being bold," he chuckles as your eyes meet. "did you plan this?"

"what?" and, the fabric drops from between your fingers. rafayel doesn't miss the way your gaze falls briefly, catching the sight of his bare chest, last 2 or 3 buttons barely laying over his abdomen. "me, ruining a piece of clothing that's probably over three times my budget? i don't think that's planning. it's called being clumsy."

your face feels warm. you take a deep breath, reach out to him, "c'mon. i'll wash it. take it off before the paint makes it unsalvageable."

rafayel clasps your wrist with his hand, steps into your space, voice deepening with a tinge of playfulness, "no, i can think of a better idea. how about me and you have matching clothes?"

he embraces you, gets you wearing blotches of paint too, and you want to argue. but, you can't find the energy to when one hand is guiding your head back and the other is tugging on your neckline. rafayel's lips move to your throat first. then, trails open-mouthed kisses along the rest of your neck, jaw, the base of your shoulder, before whispering, "it's a good idea, yeah?"

since you're the one to make a mess of his shirt first, he wants you riding him as compensation. to make him feel good? yes, sure, he loves that. though, the reason for it, most of all: he wants you using his cock like you own it. wants you aching and desperate for him. cum all over him, feel good because of him. nothing gets him going more than watching you bounce on top and moan his name so sweetly 🥰

#love and deepspace x reader #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace smut #rafayel smut #lads x reader #lads smut #l&ds x reader #l&ds smut #rafayel x you #WONDEURWALL ೃ⁀➷ MAIL 💌#omg i went a little overboard with this JFRKLGFD!!#i'd love to do drabbles for things like these #maybe i'll do that after this fic isn't eating my brain anymore #the amount of times i've listened to raf's oracle... UNHEALTHY

351 notes · View notes

sleepyghostuwu · 24 days

Text

The Artist and the Gem: Part 1

"I'm pretty sure this only happens in dreams."

Synopsis: An IPC member part-timing as an artist unknowingly spices up her life when a certain colleague comes to her for a leisurely art commission.

Notes: Fem! Reader POV since it's what I'm more comfy writing in for this series. I also have no clue how art commissions work so apologies if it isn't lore-accurate ^^"

Ping!

You groan as you reluctantly reach for your phone for the umpteenth time today, bracing yourself to read your client's incessant texts about your work progress despite it being mere weeks since they first contacted you. Combining that with the fact that your supervisors were piling you with more paperwork these days made it all the more frustrating to deal with.

"Hi again! I feel the need to mention that I have a full-time job outside of my artist life, and also take note that it takes time in general to complete multiple people's commissions over time. I will send you more WIPs once I'm available to do so. Thanks for your patience!"

As cordial as the text sounded when you sent it out, you were like a pot filled with boiling water, ready to burst in fury in the event that client continues to add fuel to the fire. Too angry to continue doing work properly, you excused yourself to get a drink at the pantry.

As the coffee machine whirred to life on the counter, you hear your phone ringing again. Doing your utmost to keep your composure, your trembling hands open your inbox. This time, it was not your current client who texted you, but a new one.

"Hey (username), I find your artworks to be rather intriguing. I saw on your webpage that you're still taking in commissions, so I was wondering if I could trouble you to do one for me."

"At least this one's polite about this," you muttered as you replied to their message with equal respect.

"Hey there! Happy to know that you appreciate my art! My commission list is quite full at the moment, so I'm afraid that it will take long while to complete yours. Would you mind if your commission took a longer time to complete, or would you rather contact me another time instead?"

That should do, you think to yourself as you retrieve your coffee cup from the machine and take a sip of your drink. Your phone rings again.

"It's all good. Take as much time as you need. I'm not in a rush :)"

Your eyes practically lit up upon reading that message. Unlimited time for a commission? In times like these? Is this heaven?? You quickly shoot back another text.

"Very well. What would you like me to draw, then?"

"I would like you to draw a portrait of Aventurine from the IPC."

...

You've got to be kidding me.

You blink furiously at your client's art request, trying to make sure that you did not misread whatever they sent to you.

"That's an interesting request you got here."

Who even is requesting for this from me? A fan from the Aventurine Fan Squad? For all you knew, any of your colleagues could have either chanced upon your art account or decided to knowingly exploit your creativity for their own pleasure. As you type out the default reminder for them to pay up as per your terms, your phone rings twice.

[100,000 Credits have been transferred to your bank account.]

"Say less. Wishing you the best of luck ;)"

You take a huge gulp of coffee as you switch off your phone, evidently more stressed about your artistic career than you already were before. With such a hefty sum of money transferred to you for a singular drawing, chances are that you will have to pool in all of your creativity for this particular commission if it means that your mystery client would be assured to get their money's worth. Taking a glimpse at the nearest clock within your hindsight, you quickly down your coffee before rushing back to your cubicle, ready to check off your task list if it meant more time to draw later on.

---

As you briskly return to your cubicle to work, a certain blond man in green glances at you from a distance and smiles.

#honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #aventurine #hsr #hsr aventurine x reader #aventurine x reader #aventurine honkai star rail #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr fanfic #star rail #aventurine x you #star rail aventurine

168 notes · View notes

inlandempir · 8 months

Text

post on one of the dev forums for disco elysium, titled "THE BENEFITS OF A MODERN FANTASY WORLD". text version beneath the cut

There's been a lot of art and tech talk so far, it's all kinda dry or saccharine. I think it's time to juice it up by throwing in a proper essay.

THE BENEFITS OF A MODERN FANTASY WORLD

The world of No Truce! (we do have a proper name for it, but we’re shy) is not what you’d call “a generic genre world”. It is not pseudo-medieval stasis, as Forgotten Realms was, nor is it Fallout’s campy barbarism with guns. It is also not a Harry Potter/Batman/vampire fantasy world, which is basically “our world with a secret/special world within it”. Neither is it the tech-obsessed ‘punks’ of steam and cyber. It’s a modern fantasy world, a fantasy world in its modernity, which roughly corresponds to the middle part of our XXth century. Now that kind of thing opens up an array of new possibilities. It is a world with a promise of non-staticness, meaning, things appear undecided — they could go one way or the other. It is close enough to our own world for things to have meaning in it, it is a proper frame in which to explore themes relevant to our own society such as bigotry, power relations, politics, bureaucratic apparati, geopolitical relations, philosophy, ideology, religion et cetera. A pseudo-medieval world is not a proper frame for truly exploring themes of, for example, sexuality, for it lacks 1) a proper concept of sexuality, 2) an actual idea of societal progress and 3) a clear ideological dominant, which would be the place where values come from. All you can do in a static, societally unstructured world is give out-of-place shoutouts to present day communities for cheap popularity (“this is exactly my sexual orientation, how did they know?!”).

We find the ideological dominant missing because the western world is traditionally culturally critical of ideological dominants – critical of both state and religion. Anyhow, a classic fantasy world would feature two main ideologies – the “good” and the “evil”, of which the former is selfless and compassionate, but the other one is selfish and cruel. The attempts to overcome that have given us the Grittywelt – a world in which everyone is an asshole and pessimism rules the day. Unsurprisingly, Grittywelt is also static as hell and meaningful change is foreclosed from it. It is a “protection from false hopes”. As such, it is heavily unrealistic. Much more realistic would be people living in super gritty conditions, but not looking the part, that is, not really noticing the abnormal harshness of their conditions, because they don’t have much to compare them to, and being hopeful towards the next day, because surprise! This is how you do it. Survive, I mean. Being depressed is a luxury. In a way, I’d say we’re trying to create the obverse of the Grittywelt – a world in which everyone is empathizable, sort of a hero of their own story.

The modern era is also a fitting vessel for anachronisms – do we not have actual cyborg limbs and donkey-pulled carts operating in the same world at the modern era? Capitalism can also contain little feudalisms in a way, in which a single man or single family controls the entire economy of a town or a village and profits from it. And at the same time, it can also contain little socialist utopias, scientist villages, in which everything is provided by the State. Aside from being a basic feature of reality (anachronism is nothing more than time failing to fit the stereotype about it), it is also a lovable creative tool, allowing for a plethora of what-if-scenarios. Imagine a modern world, only without television; imagine a modern world in which there never was a global war, imagine a world in which fossil fuels are less available. Now, if you will, imagine one which has forgotten its antiquity, and one, in which there is not just water between the continents, but something worse as well — an anti-reality mass we call “pale” (also more on that later). Now imagine one, which has a legitimate and operative “religion of history” in place, which seeks for people it deems special enough to be the “vessel of progress”. (This is not an alternate history thing, by the way. An alternate history takes place in our world quite recognizably and has no more than one divergence point from history as it happened.)

One might ask, why would we not create an even more modern world, if we wanted to maximise our possibilities? Well one of the answers is that it would have destroyed the necessary element of escapism, another is that we cannot create a good alternate Information Era because we ourselves fail to understand the Information Era (More precicely, we have the information era in its infancy and it works via radio relays). We are too close to it and it is too new to understand it, it is “in progress”. The third reason would be that technology is not a fascinating subject for modern science fiction. It’s become a natural part of our reality. We don’t believe it’s going to save us anymore – it has failed to deliver for too long. I am of the belief that the themes of science fiction today are societal, political and psychological (one could maybe add aesthetical to it, for we also love the world for its beauty). All fantastic or sci-fi elements are means for best exploring those themes.

I have filled my page. That’s all for the time being. Thank you for reading.

Martin Luiga Writer

#posts #disco elysium #martin luiga #im looking for a specific thing from the devblogs so yall can get some highlights

434 notes · View notes

diorkittys · 17 days

Text

a rock and their diamond ˚ ♡ ⋆｡ venture + [bimbo] reader {hcs}

synopsis : venture with a dumb, bimbo-ish, sexy gf… i mean c’mon it’s already canon

—TW : some nsfw hcs , slight exhibitionism , reader is very suggestively a girl , big tits (ahh boo!!!)

art credits : leesam_23

“oh cool! i had a friend obsessed with archeology back in high school; she told me i was a libra!”

“you mean astrology…?” dr. ziegler raised her brow.

“um… i don’t think it had anything to do with space.”

that was the moment sloane cameron knew you were the one.

you’re ditzy, beauty, sexy, (and tall)—quite the opposite to your venturous partner. and most could describe you two as the ‘beauty and brains’.

venture was enraptured the very second they laid their eyes on you. talk about the star of the show; everyone’s attention was focused on you the moment you walked into that dig site.

you’re tiny pink dress that hugged the curve of your waist so tight—barely covering your ass and most definitely straining against your tits (not that sloane was looking…). your long legs and plush thighs that made the archeologist gulp. tall, elegant heels which only put you on more of a pedestal. and if people weren’t already drooling over your body, your face definitely topped the cake. you were gorgeous through and through. a doll.

and, yet, through all sloane’s nervousness, they could tell you looked a tad lost.

“hi! sloane cameron. are you looking for something?” they reached a hand out which you gladly shook; venture noticing your pretty, pink acrylics.

“yes! my daddy works in the medical tent—any idea where i could find it? sure doesn’t look like a fun camping trip though.”

sloane shook the last comment off, saying they’d show you where the tent is. although the digger was dusty and smelled like minerals, you decided to follow close beside them.

that’s where they introduced you to dr ziegler. “are you a doctor too?” you’d ask. “oh, gosh, no. i’m one of the archeologists working here.” and there, the infamous moment took place.

౨ৎ

venture refers to you as various different gemstones, which you love. their go-to’s being ‘opal’, ‘angel’ (short for angelite), and, of course, diamond—your favorite.

^ “almost done w these soil samples. then omw home opal! xo” sloane would reply with to your needy texts.

^ “what’d you want f’dinner, angel?” they’d ask, wrapping scarred arms around you from behind.

^ “you look as stunning as always, diamond.” watching you give a twirl to showcase your outfit for tonight—something always a little teasing and small… not that venture had any complaints.

sloane worked late hours, fully devoted to their passion. you would usually find them hunched over at the table. slim fingers pressing circles into their shoulders, massaging away the tension. your partner would sigh, leaning back before taking your hand and guiding you into their lap. they’d explain their most recent endeavor and you would listen… even though the information went into one ear and out the other.

“ya’ know?” you, in fact, did not know, but gave a supportive nod anyways. sloane snorted, planting calloused hands on the plush of your hips as you straddled their waist. god, they wanted nothing more than to kiss that oblivious look off your face.

speaking of a suggestive kiss, does it come as a surprise that sloane just can’t get enough of you?

their hands are always on you, one way or another—how could they not? so much to grab, so much to play with.

they’d kneed your supple thighs, pinching the fat in awe. and they’d mewl as if it was their own flesh.

sometimes, venture would sit atop you in bed—spending time poking and prodding every part of you like a new toy… not caring about your excessive squirming, stifling little moans.

god, your breasts were the best part. sloane would do anything to be near them at all times. alone, the archeologist fondled your tits, squeezing your nipples between their middle and index and watching them harden. if you were a tease, sloane must be a sadist.

with you being eye candy, there was, of course, a lot of attention drawn to you. some would simply admire from afar, while others took a more brave approach.

venture isn’t a very jealous type… i mean, that’s what they’ve always believed about themselves. yet, seeing men flock to you like moths to a light—it was… irritating.

there was no such thing as ‘innocent’ conversations or ‘harmless’ touches when it came to you; everything anyone did was quite obviously intentional. and somehow, the cherry on the cake was always the follow up question, “did you come here alone?”

and as the men would compliment your hair, and subtly look at your finger for a ring, sloane would interject.

well… if you count standing a few feet away with a hot, red face staring daggers into the men’s eyes as interjection… then, yes, sloane interjected. but, the real problem solver was you, oblivious you. you, who knew you were pretty hot, but didn’t count anyone’s intentions as scandalous.

so, you’d see your partner in the distance and your eyes would immediately light up, waving your hand to call them over. maybe that’s all sloane needed, because as soon as they see that look of adoration in your face, all that anger would subside. you were theirs, after all.

don’t think those men would be off the hook, however. venture would most definitely slide an arm around your waist as you walk away… maybe slightly grabbing the round of your ass with a sly smirk on their face.

you loved to surprise your partner with visits at their job. you never minded dirt and grime and it mostly seemed like it avoided you all together.

venture would be in the middle of a log, wiping beads of sweat off their hairline after a long dig. “excavation log dash 2-3-3, this is sloane cameron speaking—my team and i just discovered a fascinating—“ “baby!!” you ran up to the archeologist, practically jumping on them as you curled your arms around their neck.

sloane would be startled before turning around and giving you an equally tight hug. others whisper about how lucky their coworker is since sloane’s face reached right between your tits. and to think your partner hated the height difference (not in the moment).

“okay, guys, hold that thought! i’ll be back!” your partner would wave.

speaking of surprises, you’d always come home with rocks for sloane. standing in front of your partner with hands behind your back, “guess.” you’d giggle. every night, the surprise was no different, but venture would entertain your enthusiasm.

“hmm… let’s see… is it… a flower?” “nope!” “candy?” “nuh uh.” “a perfectly preserved dilophosaurus spine fossil with all discs in tact?!” you looked around, “uh… i don’t think so?” venture would sigh.

you open your hands, revealing a smooth, brown rock about the size of your palm. “it’s a rock!” you smiled wide and sloane’s cheeks tinted red from how cute you could be. “thank you, diamond! i love it.” you’d sit next to them on the couch, holding onto their arm. “i found it on the sidewalk. what kind of fossil do you think it is? maybe a dinosaur one?”

sloane would pat your head, trying to refrain from explaining to you that most fossils are dinosaurs… and that you wouldn’t find one on the side walk. “angel, i think it’s just a rock—a cool rock nonetheless!” and that satisfied you enough.

honorable mention, but venture definitely buys packs of fossil dig kits for kids you could get at walmart. they keep them at their work station for when you visit because you love to be included in whatever sloane is doing.

sloane works on grid maps in their tent with you by their side, scraping down compacted sand to find your prize. “i did it!” you put down your tiny mallet. “good job, opal! what’d you get?” you pout your lips confusingly, “another rock?” venture, tiredly, rubs your shoulder, “it’s a fossil, opal…” you’re lucky, though, because this leads to a make out session.

when you do have your steamy moments in venture’s tent, it’s always the most passionate. maybe it’s the adrenaline of being caught, or the shameful thought of someone hearing you, either way, it’s exhilarating.

sloane would have you propped up on the table, pushing important papers to the ground. needy hands groping the plush flesh of your hips and your dress hitched up above your ass. your tongue grazing their chipped tooth and fingers tangling in brown hair.

of course, sloane would kiss down your neck reaching the cleavage of your breasts; their hands pushing them together, making the tops spill over the very tight fabric.

of course, you’d ask a dumb question about what if someone walks in. but, your partner is already pussy drunk and is looking up at you from between your thighs, shushing you and asking if you’d squeeze their head before going back down.

it’s very common to get odd looks when you’re both out in public. as previously mentioned, you two look complete opposites. you, in a matching pink track suit, tube top pushing against your tits, low rise sweatpants showing off the tramp stamp plastered on your lower back, g string imprinting on your hips with a cute navel piercing to go with it. you always have your makeup done, sunglasses atop your hair, and pink platform flip-flops… and venture!

venture with their hair a mess, tired eyebags from rarely sleeping, chipped tooth, a ‘we rock!’ oversized t shirt, baggy shorts that went to their knees, and old sneakers. two people you would never think you’d see together, yet holding hands and sloane pressing a kiss to your cheek whenever they could.

and, yes, it’s a little discouraging knowing no one thinks you would ever be with someone like sloane cameron. it’s an insecurity the archeologist keeps in the back of their head. but, without fail, you’ve always introduced them as yours… and that makes any doubts fade away—knowing you hold your relationship with pride.

of course, a few months into dating, venture would make sure you didn’t actually think archeology was astrology. “opal, you do know that zodiac signs are not archeology, right?” they’d raise a brow. “no, silly. i’m not dumb!” you’d giggle and sloane would sigh in relief.

“he’s that murderer—that’s true crime!”

and for sloane, their heart skipped a beat…

yeah, you’re the one.

#overwatch #overwatch 2 #ow2 #venture overwatch #venture #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you #overwatch fic #venture x reader #venture x you #sloane cameron

134 notes · View notes

botboots · 9 months

Note

Saw that your requests were open so what about TFP cons with an adorkable teen human reader? A really close friend (the emotional support bundle of joy™) that is really artistic, kind, understanding and just a pure cinnamon roll, what would be the bots reaction to the lil' human? Optimus, Ratchet,Bulkhead, Arcee, BB, and if you do the kids then the kids. If not the other bots, stay safe!

im back!! so sorry for the long ass wait, had so much going on in my life recently (graduating, going back home, etc.) but hopefully i'll be back to posting somewhat regularly! tysm for the continuous support :] love seeing the notifs pop up every day this is one of the first asks in my inbox (and i completely forgot that the prompt said reader was part of the cons... whoops) and i've wanted to get it done for a while now! have so many more to get through but will get them done eventually - this isn't the best but its cute <3 and you can 100% tell who my favs are lmao warnings: none word count: 939 (GN reader)

-----------------

Optimus:

he finds your outlook on things is a nice change of pace compared to the more pessimistic views that some members of the team can have at times

values your compassion greatly, often turning to you as a confidant over the time you’ve gotten to know each other. a mission went wrong and he’s putting all the blame on himself? you’re there to reassure him in a heartbeat, reminding him that he did his best and there’s always another chance; you keep him grounded

has an innate interest in art and writing - he used to be an archivist, after all

so he enjoys watching you indulge in your hobby, your excitement about it reminds him of his younger years of being a clerk at iacon when he would become giddy over a newfound archaic text

he’s very fond of you and makes sure you know it, taking note of the small things you like and getting you whatever little gift he can manage to find - genuinely thinks you’re cute and likes seeing you happy :]

Ratchet:

while it may have taken him a little longer than the others to warm up to you fully, he grew to start looking forward to your company (despite his his best efforts to hide it)

he appreciates your quiet company; you’re much less rambunctious than both the other humans and his own team - you complain a lot less too, probably one of his favorite qualities about you

like optimus, your bubbly attitude gives him a much needed break from the dreary duties that come with being the autobot medic

you often find yourselves working in tandem, with you sitting on the couch working on your newest project while he stands at his terminal typing away. occasionally you’ll walk over with a nervous smile, and with a roll of his optics he’ll lower a servo for you to climb into and lift you up onto the corner of the console, huffing when you chirp a thank you before the both of you quietly return to your tasks (he enjoys it, really)

while he’s not one to vent his frustrations to you, he’ll always be open to listen to you vent about yours. even if he doesn’t respond with much, he’ll offer logical solutions and observations for whatever issue you’re having

Bulkhead:

the big guy loves art, having been exposed to his fair share of it by miko, and is very encouraging when it comes to your projects

he might not get some of the nuances or meanings of the things you make, but he tries - oftentimes making you laugh a bit at the sheer amount he misses. it’s endearing though, and you appreciate the effort

too fidgety to sit and watch you do anything for too long, but he’ll offer to drive you to a vista for some inspiration while he does his usual scouting routes, miko tagging along of course. she’ll probably bring her sketchbook with her and sit next to you and draw, chattering the entire time while blasting some music from her ipod, offering you one of her earbuds

Arcee:

similar to ratchet she takes a while to get used to you, a little cold at first to your attempts at friendliness

she notices how happy you seem to make everyone else and eventually makes a legitimate pass at being friendly despite how awkward it feels

but with how eagerly you accept it she doesn’t feel as bad, sighing in relief as you immediately start filling her in on how much you’ve enjoyed your time with the autobots

she’s not much of a conversationalist (especially when it comes to humans) so your chattiness is almost a relief - not having to keep up fake interest and energy with someone puts her in a more comfortable position; especially since you’re not one to comment on it like others tend to

will sit and watch you work on whatever your newest project is, a comfortable silence shared between the two of you

rambles about random stuff from her past sometimes - you turn out to be one of the few people she trusts enough to mindlessly dump her thoughts to, both good and bad

Bumblebee:

one of the first to get to know you, overly excited about having a fresh face around

super curious when he sees you working on something, a barrage of questions translated from mechanical chirps and whirrs with the help (and annoyance) of ratchet

he’ll actually try and mimic some of your art on the walls of hidden ditches where he and rafael hang out, excitedly bringing you along to show off his latest work and buzzing happily when you praise it

will eventually, with your encouragement, try and make something original - he ends up finding it pretty soothing and an easier way to feel understood; communicating his feelings without words can be unsurprisingly helpful for someone who can’t use any of his own

you’ll spend hours hanging out and working on your stuff - he likes when you help him with his own art, adding your own brushstrokes to the concrete wall

he’ll let you sit up on his shoulder just to watch him make whatever he feels like making, or even just taking you on joyrides in the desert where he doesnt need to worry about anything going wrong

while it’s usually you, him and raf hanging out he does enjoy spending solo time with you - usually in silence or one-sided conversations, but you understand each other well enough without words

will also figure out what your favorite songs are and surprise you with them; he loves when you get all giddy about literally anything

#NO LONGER DEAD!!#transformers #transformers x reader #transformers fanfiction #tf x reader #optimus prime x reader #ratchet x reader #bulkhead x reader #bumblebee x reader #arcee x reader #tfp x reader #transformers x human reader #tfp ratchet x reader #tfp optimus x reader

651 notes · View notes

txttletale · 5 months

Note

Your discussions on AI art have been really interesting and changed my mind on it quite a bit, so thank you for that! I don’t think I’m interested in using it, but I feel much less threatened by it in the same way. That being said, I was wondering, how you felt about AI generated creative writing: not, like AI writing in the context of garbage listicles or academic essays, but like, people who generate short stories and then submit them to contests. Do you think it’s the same sort of situation as AI art? Do you think there’s a difference in ChatGPT vs mid journey? Legitimate curiosity here! I don’t quite have an opinion on this in the same way, and I’ve seen v little from folks about creative writing in particular vs generated academic essays/articles

i think that ai generated writing is also indisputably writing but it is mostly really really fucking awful writing for the same reason that most ai art is not good art -- that the large training sets and low 'temperature' of commercially available/mass market models mean that anything produced will be the most generic version of itself. i also think that narrative writing is very very poorly suited to LLM generation because it generally requires very basic internal logic which LLMs are famously bad at (i imagine you'd have similar problems trying to create something visual like a comic that requires consistent character or location design rather than the singular images that AI art is mostly used for). i think it's going to be a very long time before we see anything good long-form from an LLM, especially because it's just not a priority for the people making them.

ultimately though i think you could absolutely do some really cool stuff with AI generated text if you had a tighter training set and let it get a bit wild with it. i've really enjoyed a lot of AI writing for being funny, especially when it was being done with tools like botnik that involve more human curation but still have the ability to completely blindside you with choices -- i unironically think the botnik collegehumour sketch is funnier than anything human-written on the channel. & i think that means it could reliably be used, with similar levels of curation, to make some stuff that feels alien, or unsettling, or etheral, or horrifying, because those are somewhat adjacent to the surreal humour i think it excels at. i could absolutely see it being used in workflows -- one of my friends told me recently, essentially, "if i'm stuck with writer's block, i ask chatgpt what should happen next, it gives me a horrible idea, and i immediately think 'that's shit, and i can do much better' and start writing again" -- which is both very funny but i think presents a great use case as a 'rubber duck'.

but yea i think that if there's anything good to be found in AI-written fiction or poetry it's not going to come from chatGPT specifically, it's going to come from some locally hosted GPT model trained on a curated set of influences -- and will have to either be kind of incoherent or heavily curated into coherence.

that said the submission of AI-written stories to short story mags & such fucking blows -- not because it's "not writing" but because it's just bad writing that's very very easy to produce (as in, 'just tell chatGPT 'write a short story'-easy) -- which ofc isn't bad in and of itself but means that the already existing phenomenon of people cynically submitting awful garbage to literary mags that doesn't even meet the submission guidelines has been magnified immensely and editors are finding it hard to keep up. i think part of believing that generative writing and art are legitimate mediums is also believing they are and should be treated as though they are separate mediums -- i don't think that there's no skill in these disciplines (like, if someone managed to make writing with chatGPT that wasnt unreadably bad, i would be very fucking impressed!) but they're deeply different skills to the traditional artforms and so imo should be in general judged, presented, published etc. separately.

#ask #ai art

211 notes · View notes

msschemmenti · 11 months

Text

The Bodyguard

Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

summary : reader hasn't mastered the art of self-care yet and melissa helps.

a/n: been sitting with this for a bit, hoping to post more now that i'm kinda getting my adult life together :) i also could not tell you what happened at the end of this...

“Good Morning beautiful educators! Are we ready to change some lives?” Janine called, bounding into the teacher’s lounge. All eyes rolled and a collective sigh fell over the room. Despite the less than enthusiastic response, Janine’s smile remained in place as she shoved her lunch in the refrigerator and sat next to Jacob.

“What’s got you so chipper this morning?” Melissa spoke, eyeing the younger woman over the cat-eye reading glasses she had perched on her nose.

“I just woke up well-rested. With the new schedule I’ve created for myself I’ve had loads more time to get things done. I’m worrying less and feeling my best.” Janine proudly spoke, causing the older women in the room to observe her thoughtfully.

“That’s great Janine. You have seemed much more confident and that’s great to see.” Barbara smiled.

“Good for you Kid. That’s often the hardest part of teaching in a school like this. It’s hard to take time for yourself.” Melissa smiles over her reading glasses, leveling the younger woman with a congratulatory nod. Janine beamed at the camera over the older woman's shoulder and turned to Jacob to listen to his spiel for the morning. As everyone went back to their own morning routines, Y/n slumped into the room heading straight for the coffee machine. The cameras followed her as she pulled a mug from her bag and filled it to the brim with the bitter liquid gold. As soon as she added the sugar and creamer she needed she gazed at her watch gauging how much time she had before school officially started. With twenty minutes to spare she trudged over to the couch and sighed as she slouched into the chair pulling out some homework she wasn’t able to finish before bed. With the young woman’s attention focused on her work and coffee, she missed the green eyes that seemed to track her as closely as the camera did. Melissa watched as the fifth grade teacher busied herself with stacks of paper and a book. It didn’t look to be the work of her students, so Melissa’s curiosity peaked. She watched as the younger woman wedged a highlighter between her teeth and flipped through pages of tiny text. Her eyes moved across the screen frantically as if trying to memorize as much of the information as possible in the next 20 minutes. She didn’t realize how long she’d been watching until she felt Barb bump her shoulder subtly. Melissa’s eyes landed on Barbara and was instantly met with a soft smirk lining her friend’s lips.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Melissa grumbled under her breath, peeking back over to the couch to see if the younger woman had relaxed a bit but she seemed to only have tensed more.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Barbara smirked allowing her eyes to fall to the younger woman as well. “It seems someone hasn’t mastered the ‘taking care of yourself’ part of all of this.”

“What’s she working on anyway? It doesn’t look like anything the kids would be working on. I know she’s upstairs but they’d hardly be reading anything that long.” Melissa asked, finally turning back to Barb.

“I’m not sure, but you know she’s still in school so that could definitely be some homework of her own.” Barb shrugged.

“She’s still in school? What do you mean?” Melissa asked.

“She’s getting her masters. Which you’d know if you weren’t always being so standoffish. She does all her classes and coursework after we get off.”

“I am not standoffish,” Melissa huffed indignantly, “I just don’t like new people.”

“Mmhm, I don’t think that’s the case with one though.” Barbara grinned as she watched the red-head’s cheeks heat almost instantly at being called out.

“Oh shut up.” Melissa grumbled as the bell rang for the school day to finally start. She rose from her seat pointedly ignoring Barbara’s chuckle behind her as they made their way to their classrooms.

“Alright, who has an answer they’d like to share?” Y/n asked from her place in the front of the classroom. Lunch was still about 10 minutes away but she wanted to at least finish the rest of the worksheet her students had been working on before sending them off. She let her eyes roam over the classroom patiently but as she saw no hands raise she knew she’d need to entice them a bit. “I know it’s hard you guys, but if we finish the last two problems I’ll let you head to lunch earlier.”

She waited to see if anyone would take the bait and it seemed to work when Mariah raised her hand from the middle of the room. “Alright Mariah, what ya got for me?”

“4 over 12.” She spoke timidly.

“Uh Huh, and what’s 4 over 12 simplified?” Y/n prompted with a smile. Mariah seemed to be working through it but seemed a bit overwhelmed so Y/n opened it up to the rest of the class. “Anyone? What number can we divide both 4 and 12 by?”

“2.” Jamal called from the back row.

“Yep, but is there a bigger number we could also use?” Y/n asked with a smile glad the students seemed to be getting closer and closer to the right answer.

“Oh! I know.” Jasmine’s hand shot up from the front.

“Alright Jasmine, what number are you thinking?”

“4.”

“Excellent! That’s exactly right. And if we divide them by 4, 4 over 12 becomes?”

“1 over 3!” Everyone answered.

“Very good everyone. Let’s do the last one together and then we can head off.” Y/n smiled, heading to the white board and grabbing a marker.

Melissa really isn’t sure how she found herself in the fifth grade hall. She’d dropped her kids to recess and somehow she’d found herself peeking through the glass window in the door of Y/n’s classroom. She watched as she patiently guided the students through the fractions. She could tell the students really appreciated the atmosphere she’d created in the classroom. Even when someone wasn’t right, there was nothing but support flowing through the space and Melissa had no choice but to admire the work she’d done to capture that. Realizing if anyone saw her up there she’d have no explanation for her behavior, she quickly turned on her heels to head back toward her classroom with the hopes of not being caught. In her descent of the stairs, she missed the camera man down the hall collecting footage.

Melissa hurried into the teacher’s lounge hoping to grab a snack before she needed to pick her students up from their art class. She pushed forcefully on the door and headed for the vending machine, letting the door swing behind her with little care. As the door clanged against the doorframe she heard the startled gasp within the room. She turned quickly with her fist up and ready to attack whoever was in the room. She only relaxed when she saw Y/n sat on the couch with her hand over her chest and wide eyes. There was a book in her lap and highlighter poking out of her hair. Melissa figured she was doing homework again but as she looked closer, she could see the grooved pattern of the couch fabric on the younger woman’s cheek.

“Oh Melissa,” The younger woman sighed as she leaned back into the couch as she started to calm down.

“Sorry Hon. Did I wake ya?” Melissa said, coming to lean on the back of the chair that was closest to the couch.

“It's probably for the best. That was a complete accident.” Y/n shook her head a bit and pushed her hands down her face in an effort to liven up a bit.

“Must not be too interesting, if it’s putting you to sleep.” Melissa commented, nodding her head toward the book still in Y/n’s lap.

“Unfortunately it is not. It doesn’t exactly help that I’m already sleep deprived. A recipe for a great nap.” Y/n chuckled lightly before turning her eyes to her watch. “Looks like it’s time for me to pick my kids up.” As Y/n gathered her things, Melissa watched and hummed in agreement. Once Y/n was done and her eyes met Melissa’s the older woman could see the exhaustion setting back in place. “See you around Melissa.”

Y/n moved to walk past Melissa to the door, but Melissa hand wrapped around her forearm keeping her in front of her. “Hey, make sure you get some rest hon. We can’t have you collapsing on us like Janine.” Melissa squeezed her arm in emphasis and released her arm when she saw the younger woman nod in understanding.

From then Melissa found herself checking in with Y/n more often. She’d shed her ‘standoffish’ behavior and had become one of the teachers Y/n talked to the most. She never spent a lot of time with anyone on the elementary level teaching staff besides Barb, but now she seemed to be running into Melissa more and more. She’d be in the teacher lounge poured over a textbook or a stack of spelling tests and Melissa would appear with a hot mug of coffee. She’d gradually started bringing the younger woman lunch everyday of the week. It had started on a day about two weeks after Y/n had been caught napping on the couch. The fifth grade teacher had waltzed into the room carrying her laptop and textbook and that seemed to be it. It only took Melissa about 5 seconds of seeing her work on homework before she cleared her throat with a raised eyebrow. She, Y/n, and Barb were the only ones in the lounge so far so Y/n was quick to turn her attention to the older women’s table.

“Oh hi.” Y/n said, meeting Melissa’s eyes. Assuming the redhead was upset she hadn’t greeted them when she arrived, she looked back at her work.

“Hello but that’s not what I wanted. Where is your lunch?” Melissa asked, eyeing the younger woman intently.

“Oh I forgot it. I’m just gonna grab a snack after work to tide me over through class tonight.” Y/n shrugged, lifting the textbook from her lap.

“You mean after school?” Barb cut in looking at the younger woman skeptically.

“Mmhmm. No need to worry, I’ve done it loads of times before. I forget my lunch a lot more than I care to admit.”

“Oh sweetheart, well that’s not healthy.” Barb said, shaking her head disapprovingly.

“I know, I know. I try not to but I think I’ve done it so often that I hardly notice anyway.”

“Well that’s not happening anymore, get over here.” Melissa said, pulling out the chair next to her. Y/n looked at the older woman in confusion, not fully understanding what was happening. She didn’t move but watched as the older woman pulled a fork from one of the drawers and wedged it into the tupperware dish she’d been eating. When her eyes landed on Y/n’s face she looked at her expectantly. When the older woman didn’t say anything, Y/n grabbed her books and moved over to the older women’s table and sat in the seat obediently. With Y/n situated, Melissa slid the food in front of her and patted Y/n’s back, “Now eat.”

Y/n went to protest but before she could even speak there was a fork-full of pasta in her mouth. Her eyes widened in shock initially but melted shut when the food hit her taste buds. “Oh this is so good.” At the praise Melissa smirked and went back to scrolling on her phone as Barbara laughed with a smile. From then on Melissa made it a point to pack a bit more food for lunch. And if Barbara asked about it she simply shrugged citing her large portion sized cooking as the reason. As Y/n and Melissa became closer, it seemed easier for the younger woman to take care of herself. With someone checking on her as often as Melissa had taken to, it became second nature.

One day after a particularly demanding week of homework and tests, Melissa found Y/n sprawled out on the teachers lounge’s couch once again. It was a very similar scene to the first time but unlike last time, when the door closed Y/n didn’t start awake. If anything, she burrowed further into the couch and threw her arm over her eyes. Melissa paused briefly watching the younger woman sleep and sighed. She only looked at Y/n for a few more seconds before making her mind up. She sat her things at her table and pulled her jacket off of her arms. She walked over draping it across the younger teacher and then made her way to her table. She positioned her chair toward the door and watched the door. It wasn’t long before the door swung open revealing Janine ready to talk about God knows what, but as soon as her eyes met Melissa’s she closed her mouth. The older woman sent a menacing glare her way before placing her finger up to her lips. Janine, though confused, tip-toed further into the room and took a seat at one of the other tables in the room. By the time everyone was in the room, Melissa had quietly declared that the teacher’s lounge was experiencing a quiet lunch and with her reputation no one questioned her.

The bell rang signaling the end of lunch and that seemed to be the only thing to rouse Y/n from her sleep. By this point everyone had made their way to their own classrooms and the only two people remaining were Melissa and Y/n. The younger woman groaned as she opened one of her eyes to scan the room. She paused briefly as her senses were overwhelmed with a very familiar fragrance. She looked down seeing the familiar leather jacket draped over her shoulders and felt her cheeks heat at being caught asleep again. Before she could say anything Melissa spoke leaning against the back of the chair next to the couch.

“Good morning hon,” She spoke, leveling Y/n with a soft look of concern. “I thought we talked about you taking care of yourself?”

“We did, I’ve just been cranking out a lot of papers this week. Had an extra late night last night trying to finish one before the weekend.” Y/n explained placing her feet on the floor and facing the older woman.

“Well when is it due?” Melissa asked moving to sit on the arm of the chair.

“Not until Sunday night, but I use my weekends to plan for the week here and catch up on grading.” Y/n explained.

“And when do you take time for yourself?” Melissa prompted.

“When I sleep it’s just me and my dreams. So I count those few hours every night as self-care.”

“Haha, very funny hon. You know that actually does not count right? You just slept through lunch. I think we need to think of some new ways to make sure you’re getting things done. Ways don’t include skipping meals and hours of sleep.”

“I slept through lunch? I slept through Janine’s latest life update and Jacob’s flailing? I really must be tired.” Y/n said, shaking her head before moving to rise from the couch. “And I gotta go get my kids for recess.”

“Don’t worry about that right now. I told Jacob to take them with his kids. And as much as I agree that you are extremely tired, the teacher’s lounge was having a silent lunch today. But I don’t think we can do that every day so we’re gonna have to figure something else out.”

“Jacob is taking my kids to recess?” Y/n asked, looking at the redhead in disbelief. Before Melissa could confirm, Y/n seemed to pick up on something else she said. “Wait, did you just say silent lunch?”

Melissa shook her head in amusement at the fifth grade teacher, “Yes to both. And before you ask how? Think about who you’re talking to.”

Y/n nodded with red cheeks realizing the redhead had done quite a bit for her during her slumber. “Thanks.” She finally mustered up the courage to say.

“You’re welcome, I’m glad to help. But I’d be even happier if you’d meet me halfway with this.”

Y/n nodded in understanding, “I’m sorry, I’ve always just been like this and I overestimate how much I can actually handle. I didn’t realize anyone would care so much.”

“Well I do. Listen, how about we find sometime to get you set up with a healthier schedule? I’ll even make you dinner and everything.” Melissa suggested hopefully. “I’d really like that. I have to be honest, I didn’t take you for the mentor type of the group.” Y/n said with a shrug unconsciously pulling the older woman’s leather jacket closer to her chest.

“Oh I’m not. That’s definitely more of a Barb thing, but I have my moments. And my reasons.” Melissa smiled softly at Y/n.

“Well I appreciate it and I won’t take your help for granted.”

“Good girl. Now come on, recess is almost over.”

Y/n’s cheeks heated at the older woman’s words before she nodded and stood to walk out of the door with the woman. Melissa collected her things from the table and grabbed a tupperware container from the fridge and met Y/n at the door. She pushed the food into her hands as she’d been doing for the last couple of weeks and moved to head out of the door. Just as they were about to cross the threshold of the breakroom she extended the jacket toward the woman. “Oh, probably need this back. Thanks.”

“No problem hon, don’t leave before seeing me. We can find a night sometime soon. Alright?”

“Yes ma’am.” Y/n saluted before both women parted ways.

“Knock knock. You ready to go?” Barb asked as she leaned against the door frame of Melissa’s classroom.

“You can go on without me, I’m waiting on Y/n. We’ve gotta figure out when she’s free.” Melissa said casually turning in her desk chair to face her best friend.

“You finally ask her out?” Barb asked with a smirk causing Melissa’s cheeks to heat.

“What? No? What are you talking about? I’m just gonna help her figure out how to take care of herself a bit better.” Melissa sputtered.

“Right because you’re so good at that yourself.” Barb rolled her eyes.

“Hey! I’m pretty good. And you do the same thing with Janine.” Melissa defended.

“Yes, but I don’t want to take Janine to bed. We are not the same Melissa.”

“Oh would you get out of here before she hears you!”

“You didn’t deny it!” Barbara grinned.

“Bye Barb.” Melissa groaned. Barbara smiled in victory before sending a wink over to her friend and leaving the building.

#msschemmenti #lisa ann walter x reader #abbott elementary x reader #lisa ann walter #melissa schemmenti x reader

586 notes · View notes