#I’ve been preparing this entire semester

[berberriescorner]

“Are You Listening?”

Interlude: “Drinks On Me, Yeah?”

Characters: Rio x Black!Reader.

Summary: Issa Interlude, mama. Expect the unexpected.

Warnings: Profanity, angst, fluff, and drinking-little libation for the one, two.

Word Count: 1,700+.

A/N: My lovelies! My babies! Mama’s back and I got a little sum-sum for ya! Let’s start this weekend with a little Rio and the crew, yeah? Yeah. I want to give so many thanks to all of you sweet lovelies who have been rocking with me this entire time. Most of you know that the past year and a half has been quite the struggle. To everybody who took time out of your day to come and check in on me, please know that I’m appreciative and forever grateful to have connected with such amazing people🥹♥️. Thank you for all the sweet, hilarious comments and asks as well💓. I’m a little rusty, so be gentle with your girl. Enjoy my sweet babies.  Before anyone asks, yes, I’ve been working on Pt. 4😂😏😈.

"Are You Listening?" - The Playlist

Apple Music.

Spotify.

Part One Here.

Part Two Here.

Part Three Here.

Inspired By:

Your body pressed down into the plush mattress as you reveled in the comfort and security of being home. Your mind replayed the image of your mom snatching the door open, the two of you hugging tightly, rocking side to side. You had spent the past week trying to survive final exams and warding off the many questions of, “What’s wrong, baby girl?” The woman who gave you life knew you all too well. Sensing that her youngest baby was struggling, her attempts to get you to open up over the phone went unanswered. With the semester complete, being home didn’t leave much space to dodge the knowing gaze in her eyes. 

That master’s degree will probably be a waste of time.

The moment you pulled away from the hug, she cupped your chin, and your poker face cracked as the tears cascaded down your cheeks. Two hours later, you filled her in on everything from the stress of school, financial aid, working doubles, and the fresh crack in your heart that was taking its sweet-ass time to heal. All of which had only taken about forty minutes to stutter out. The talk and her comfort had left you wiped out, and just like any amazing mother would do, she sent you to your room for a nap and got to work on preparing comfort food.

You considered dozing off for a bit more rest, but your bedroom door flew open, bouncing off the corner of your vanity. Your eyes narrowed to mere slits as you started to curse your oldest brother out. His hand raising halted the verbal reprimand.

“Alena’s big-headed ass is here to see ya mean ass,” he snarked about the woman who would eventually become his wife.

These two bitches are so in love. It’s sickening. The attraction is so annoyingly obvious. Shit makes me sick to my stomach.

Before you could tell him you didn’t want company, she was already in the doorframe. “Uh-uh, bitch you are not about to dodge me for another two weeks.” With those words said, you had no choice but to give her a rundown of what had transpired. Not only had she forced you to divulge every last detail while the two of you hugged and cried together. She also took it upon herself to wiggle you into your best freakum dress and head out for a girl’s night.

Being the baby and the only girl in your family made for very over-the-top protective parents. The moment your father saw your attire, he wouldn’t let up. He was hell-bent on forcing your brothers to chaperone.

It wasn’t a horrible idea.  Only you didn’t like your independence challenged. Luckily, the older siblings were pretty chill, so long as no one was overly aggressive. They had taught you how to handle shit for yourself at a young age. You spent the first half hour in the club pouting and ready to go home to wallow in self-misery.

“Hoe! If you don’t fix your face, scaring off every good-looking man in this club!”

“They’ll be alright, so long as they keep their distance. In case you didn’t get the memo after our long talk. Men make my ass itch,” you growled, kissing your teeth.

“Whateva, you and that stank attitude can have a good time together,” she sassed, throwing up a hand and walking away from the bar.”

“Where are you going? Alena!”

“I’ll be back, damn! Let me go on and annoy them, fine-ass brothers of yours. Be nice, and don’t bite nobody head off, sourpuss.”

“Always thirsting after my blood, just triflin’.”

With the flick of a middle finger, she sauntered over to their section. You could see the irritation rolling off them as she seated herself in the middle. The arguing started seconds later. Your eye twitched at the sight. Swinging the barstool back toward the liquor, you were about to pass the time scrolling through social media. Instead, a set of bronzed-colored, muscular digits came into view. They gently pressed your phone to the bar as the matching digits slid another lemon drop into view. Your eyes danced along those muscular fingers, trailing upward until they landed on one of the sexiest faces you’d ever witnessed. If any other man would’ve done this, he would’ve been set straight expeditiously. In this instance, ole boy was just too damn fine, and it left you on mute. The corners of his mouth lifted into a handsome smirk.

The stranger turned his barstool to get closer. One hand rested on the bar while the other cradled the back of your seat. His eyes roamed over your body, lip tucking between his teeth, matching you stare for stare. He chuckled when he noticed your quirked eyebrow.

“I don’t mean to intrude on ya evening, but I figured you could use another drink.”

“Is that so?”

“Couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with your friend. I’m tryin’ to  figure out why these men got your fine ass itching out here.”

Shit, he heard that? Floor, open up and swallow me. That’s so damn embarrassing.

As if reading your thoughts, he continued, “Nothing to be embarrassed about, mama. There’s a lot of boys running around here pretending to be men. Who was crazy enough to fumble you? He gotta be the dumbest man on earth.”

As if on cue, said fumbler’s name popped up on your caller ID. With a swipe of a finger, the phone went silent. You turned back to your new admirer. He had signaled for another round of drinks.

“Either you’re a big spender, or the bartender is your connect,” you teased.

“Connect is one way of putting it. This my spot, darlin’.”

He chuckled as you damn near choked on your drink.

“I’m sorry. Tend to put my foot in my mouth.”

“You good. I like a woman who’s not afraid to speak her mind. Dealing with me, you go to say it with your chest.”

“Oh, so you plan to be around me beyond tonight?”

“Around, underneath, on top. We locked in, mama,” he insisted, licking his lips.

“I don’t even know your name, fool,” you cackled at his cockiness.

“Name’s Rio, but you can call me Christopher, mama. My future wife needs to know my government name. I’m putting my trust in you. Don’t be tellin’ my business, sweetheart.”

“Who says I’m checking for you, Rio?”

“You accepted my company and drinks. Deep down, you’re intrigued by me. Ain’t no need to hide it. When I see something I want, gotta go after it, mama.” he rasped, voice lowering to a panty-dropping level.

“You’re trouble. I just know it.”

Rio planted both hands on your thighs. The gasp that escaped you lit his brown orbs with passion.

“Can I have your undivided attention for the night? Want to get to know you better, mama.”

Grabbing his outstretched hand, he helped you down off the stool.

“Rio…”

Piercing light flickered in the darkness, pulling you from the memory that played itself in your dreams. Your hand snatched the vibrating phone from the table. Your orbs squinted to read the screen, teeth clenching in frustration.

Fucking Rio, I can’t even get away from him in my sleep. Stupid-handsome-asshole.

With a single tap, the phone rested on DND. You closed off from the world to find a peaceful slumber, only to wake from another dream. Throwing the covers back, you startled, feeling the bed dip. His cologne wafted through the air, and your eyes connected.

“Why all the tossing and turning, amor? Hmm,” he rasped, hand trailing up your arm. His warm palm cradled the side of your neck, rubbing away some of the tension.

“Sorry, did my restlessness wake you?”

“No, querida. I’ve been up taking care of some things.”

“Same old Miguel. Everything business. Still don’t sleep much, huh?”

His eyes crinkled with a small smile, but you could also see sadness. It’s the same unhappiness that’s always lingered, only now accompanied by sparks of anger and resentment. Your mind replayed his words in the elevator.

Where’s your wife, Miguel?

She had other plans tonight.

The slightest mention of her had nearly sent his mood spiraling. You weren’t privy to what was happening in his marriage but didn’t want to pry. He would only reverse card uno your ass. Miguel would insist that you vent about your own life and frustrations.

“Thank you for taking the couch,” you nibbled at your lip. 

There was a hint of frustration and guilt lingering in your chest. Not being able to sleep without dreaming of Rio left you feeling conflicted. Part of you wanted to say to hell with loyalty. Being in such a vulnerable state had you craving to be held and cuddled, but regardless of circumstance, the two of you were very much married. Concern swam in the pools of his eyes. Miguel sensed the ongoing dilemma in your head, and his fingers gently cupped your chin.

“Hey, talk to me. What’s all this,” he asked, tugging the lip between your teeth. “Tell me what you need.”

“I can’t,” you sighed.

“You can, and you will. Look at me,” he insisted as your eyes locked.

“Anything you ask me. It won’t leave this room. You need me to hold you until sleep takes over, amor?”

Unable to verbally say it, you gave him a slight head nod. Removing his tie, watch, and shoes, he made it over to the opposite side of the bed. Miguel got right to it, not giving you time to overthink it. He pulled you into his chest, arms engulfing you in a tight hug.

“Were you having nightmares, cariño?”

“No, just happy memories reminding me of the present painful ones,” you replied, voice filling with unshed tears.

“You want to talk about it?”

Silence filled the room as Miguel continued, “We don’t have to ta-.”

His sentence cut short as he felt the tremors and your head burrowed into his side. Miguel’s heart cracked at the sound of the sobs falling from your lips. His arms pulled you further into him until there was no space left, and the palm of his hand rubbed at your head.

“Shhh, you’re okay. I’m here,” he cooed, leaving soft kisses on the crown of your head.

Miguel continued to whisper calming words. You cried until your head pounded, and sleep took over.

Hope you all enjoyed that little peek into how Rio pulled up on your girl for the first time. He saw something he liked, and he had to have you🥰. We’ll just call this a vague moment of insight into upcoming events...if that makes sense 😆. If you enjoyed please be sure to hit the love button, comment, and reblog. Spread the love, my babies.

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#berberriescorner #are you listening? #issa interlude #drinks on me-yeah? #series #rio x black!reader #rio x woc!reader #rio x reader #rio x y/n #rio fanfic #rio fanfiction #rio good girls #good girls rio #manny montana #black writer #spotify #daddy rio #miguel galindo #daddy miguel #rich papi #danny pino #i love my mutuals😍 #Spotify

[55sturn]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ SNAP OUT OF IT: CHAPTER 0.01

↳ series masterlist! ↳ main masterlist!

↳ summary: in which y/n receives the news of her life and she feels on top of the world, as if nothing could bring her down, until she meets her dorm mate, rather, until she re-meets him.

↳ pairings: matt sturniolo x fem!reader [eventually, in this chapter, they are not friends]

↳ warnings: swearing, mentions of death, cigarettes, drug usage [weed], alcohol consumption, cocky!matt, flirting, bitchy!reader.

↳ important notes: i’ve been so excited to post this! this is going to be slow burn, and updates will be slow as well while i’m in the process of deciding what i want done with back to december, povs will change regularly between reader’s pov, matt’s pov, and third person pov, each pov is vital to the story and each character’s internal battles throughout the series.

↳ playlist for this series! song below for this chapter below!

READER’S POV

my hands shook as i held the letter that determined whether or not i’d have a chance at landing a job in screenwriting or directing, or literally anything the film industry would give me. landing a spot in this course, was extremely tough. it was only open to twenty five students, and there were thousands of applicants to rifle through each semester. it was a prestigious course, and if you excelled in it, the professor would consider sending out a letter of recommendation to any companies he knew were offering an internship. it was such high demand because the professor had a lot of sway when it came to massive filming and production companies, and would often land one of his students their big break.

but in order to apply, at least three years of training under some sort of local theatre was mandatory, the applicants needed to prove that they understood how screenwriting, production, and set or stage management worked, and there was still more that we needed to cover but those were top three areas of experience this course looked at. each applicant needed to prove that they were completely fit for this course and that they genuinely wanted to pursue a career in this field, and if you didn’t show it well enough, you weren’t even added to the consideration list.

it was a tough spot to land, and i would give anything to land a spot in this course. i had fought tooth and nail throughout all of high school to get grades that proved determination and hard work, the only university i ever had in mind was harvard, and if i didn’t get in, i wouldn’t know what to do with my life.

so here i was, freshly twenty-one, and finally holding the letter that led to the rest of my life, good or bad.

“come on you pussy, open it already.” jocelyn groans, she had been my rock throughout the entire application process. she’s been my best friend since we were six and bonded over having the same pencil case when she moved to boston in first grade. however, she’s been a bit callous to the idea of me being nervous about reading this letter. she was the type that barely scraped in high school, and she had decided pretty early that she didn’t want to go to any college or university. she excelled online and had amounted a huge following.

“joce, i love you but please shut up. this is the most important letter i’ve held in my entire life. i’m scared, what if i don’t get in?”

“please bitch, you’ve worked harder than anyone i know, i’m sure you’re going to get in.”

“thanks joce, but i genuinely don’t trust your judgement after the last guy you hooked up with. so i am going to take a shot and then open it.” i laugh, walking over to the cupboard above the fridge, grabbing the bottle of tequila we had bought in preparation for this very moment. i also grabbed two shot glasses from the mini bar-cart we had beside the fridge of our shared apartment, and began pouring a shot for the both of us.

“oh my fucking god. oh my fucking god!” she gasps from behind me, making quickly turn around, only to see that she held the open letter in her hands.

“what?”

“you fucking got in!” she exclaims, causing goosebumps to rise along my skin as i stand and watch her eyes dart back and forth along the page, reading the words aloud.

“dear miss l/n, i am pleased to inform you that the committee on Film and Visual Studies has voted to offer you a place in the Harvard class of 2025. dude you did it!” she beams, her voice full of pride and excitement, causing tears to well along my waterline as i stare at her.

“oh my fucking god, i did it.” i sob, feeling genuinely accomplished for the first time in my life.

“however it does say that the only available dorm situation is co-ed, since you had applied for on-campus living.”

“that’s fine with me honestly.” i shrug, wiping the tears, unable to rid my face of the smile that resides on it.

“alright, let’s take some shots and then start packing the rest of your shit. i can’t believe i’ll be living without for so long, i can finally walk around naked.” she hums, wrapping her arms around my shoulders as i sigh, my arms winding tightly around her waist.

i let out a loud laugh as i grab the bottle of tequila, followed by the two full shot glasses, sliding jocelyn hers as i stare at her.

“you’re acting as if you don’t already do that.”

“touché, however, here’s to my bitch starting her dream career.”

the next few days blew by in a blur as jocelyn and i finished packing everything i wanted to take. she was going to help take my stuff from boston to cambridge. the eight hour drive was going to be brutal, but it was completely doable, especially know that she’d be along the way. instead of driving sixteen hours total, she was going to spend the first night with me, she also wanted to scope out my dorm mate to make sure they’re not a total freak.

“i can’t believe i leave tomorrow.” i sigh, resting my head on jocelyn’s shoulder, the two of sitting on our balcony while she puffed her joint. jocelyn stifles a laugh before straightening out her expression, and turning to me.

“your mom would be so proud of you.” she says, her face blank as the absurd comment leaves her mouth.

“as fucking if.” i snort, rolling my eyes, taking the joint from her fingers, taking a small hit as she laughs.

“she’d probably ask why it took so long to get a response and then tell you that you didn’t try hard enough and that your acceptance letter was a pity letter.”

“probably.” i whisper, handing the joint back to her as i watch the setting sun, feeling a strong tinge of hurt swelling in my chest at the mention of my mom.

her and i never really had a steady relationship, when i was younger she was never really around, she was a big part of the film industry, quite the requested screenwriter, and was always in high demand which meant she didn’t take time to nurture me.

when she was alive and around more during my high school days after she was forced to retire from the spotlight due to her cancer, she was constantly berating me, the high ninety grades and constant participation in local theatre was never good enough. she always said i wasn’t shooting high enough. but she fell deathly ill my senior year, and that was a rough patch for us. i had snapped and told her that i hope she regrets the way she’s treated my entire life, and that i won’t be found at her deathbed. but when that time came, i was the first one to hold her hand and tell her i love her, but the reply never came from her, she just stared at the wall blankly until her boyfriend showed up and then suddenly she was lively as she could be while dying.

but i’ve moved on from that year, and it took a long time and shit ton of therapy to realize that i was never going to be the daughter she wanted, but my dad and my step-mother, melissa, have been as supportive as they could. they’ve been with melissa’s mom in maine for the last two months, helping her with everything after her husband’s passing.

i sigh again as i look at jocelyn, leaning my head back on her shoulder.

“we should probably head back to bed, we’ve got a long ass drive tomorrow.”

“yeah, wanna eat some ice cream first?”

“sure.”

after our ice cream, we finally crashed, both of us only getting about four hours of sleep after having to wake up at nearly six in the morning. we quickly got dressed, and grabbing the last few bags and boxes that needed to be packed into the car before leaving to grab food and drinks. after that, we finally started on our way to cambridge.

the drive was full of numerous stops, causing to get at the dorms around four in the afternoon.

“alright you stay with the cars while i go to the admissions centre and grab my key and i’ll go unlock the door and then we can start.” i hum in joce’s direction through her open window, grabbing my bag off the front passenger’s seat while jocelyn nods, climbing out, and stretching.

“i hope you get a hot roommate, you need a boyfriend.” she calls out, rolling my eyes, and flipping her off.

“i’m walking away i cant hear you!” i call back, following the signs that direct me toward to admissions office, as i enter i nervously approach the lady at the front.

“hi i’m here to pick up my dorm keys, room 496, y/n l/n.”

“here you go! so you’ll want to turn right, then take two lefts and follow the numbered plaques on the wall to the co-ed section of the dorms! and lastly, welcome to harvard!” the older woman chirps, flashing a warm smile that eases my nerves just the tiniest bit as i begin following the directions that she had called out.

as i reach my door, i fish the key from my pocket, quickly shoving it into the keyhole, wanting to get into my dorm as quick as possible. as i’m about to turn the knob, someone clear their throat from behind me, causing me to turn around. and once i meet the eyes of the person standing behind me, i immediately wish that the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

“what the fuck are you doing here?”

“this is my dorm?” he coughs, making my skin crawl at the idea of sharing a dorm for a year with the one person that i genuinely wish didn’t exist in my life.

“there’s no way in hell i’m sharing a dorm with you, matt.”

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© 55STURN 2024 ! REBLOGS NOT EXPECTED BUT GREATLY APPRECIATED ! [ you do not have permission to copy or save or share my work to other platforms and devices! ]

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[mika-writes-fanfics]

Make it up to you

Professor!Touya x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: You're assigned to be the teaching assistant for the new, attractive instructor at your university. His name? Professor Touya. Ever the good student, you hope to maintain a professional relationship with him and stay in good standing, but when he publicly embarrasses you in front of the entire class, all that is thrown out the window. 

Warnings/tags: Colleg AU, quirkless AU, older Touya (coded to be in his 30s), female reader, student/teacher's assistant reader, professor/student relationship, dumbification, fingering, creampie, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (female), public sex, usage of sir, public embarrassment, lots of dirty talking, messy sex 

Author's note: Huge shoutout to @dabisqueen and @history-be-written for being my beta readers and giving me good suggestions. I appreciate you guys sm!!! This fic truly wouldn't have turned out the way it did without you two. 

Word Count: 7.9K

“So,” Your friend turns to you, asking you in piqued interest, “Who’d the department put you with? You know who you’ll be an assistant for yet?”

“Yeah, I was told I’ve been placed with ‘Professor Touya Todoroki’,” you answer. The name is completely unfamiliar to you, though, you’re hoping she has at least heard of him before.

It’s your turn to ask her a question, and you choose to say, “Have you ever had him?”

Much to your dismay, she shakes her head no.

“Nope, never had him,” she replies. You frown slightly at her answer. Turning to  your friend’s roommate, you hope  to find that she has had some sort of interaction with him. 

“What about you? Have you had him before?” You question her. Just like your friend, she shakes her head, much to your disappointment. 

“I haven’t,” shesays. “I don’t even think anyone else has talked about him before either. I’ve never heard his name in my life.”

Damn. 

You were wanting to hear your peers' experience with your soon to be ‘boss’ of sorts, so that you could prepare yourself, but it seems you’re shit out of luck. You’ll just have to go in blind.  

“You know, they hired a new professor this semester. It might just be him,” your friend points out. She smiles at you mischievously before adding, “And rumor has it, he’s hot as fuck.” 

“Ooooh, how lucky. I’m jealous,” your friend’s roommate giggles. You scoff at the reaction. 

“No reason to be. He’s my professor, ‘s not like I can, you know, do anything with him,” you counter. 

You check your phone, seeing that the time to meet the new professor has come. “I gotta head over to his office before his lecture starts. I’ll catch you around.”

“See you later then. Have fun~” your friend farewells in a singsong voice. 

You chuckle at her antics and make your way over to the department building and to his office. When you get there, you stop to peer through the window on his office door, trying to see if he’s inside. Luckily, he’s there, looking down at a paper in his hand, unaware of your presence. 

You notice right away he doesn’t look like the rest of the university staff. He looks quite a bit younger than the rest of the aging faculty. Though, he was still a couple years your senior, in his early thirties at least. What makes him really stand out to you, apart from his piercing cyan eyes and dark, shaggy hair, is the way he dressed. He’s wearing tight black jeans, a form-fitting white button up, an expensive wristwatch, and black Converse. You can’t help but admire his intense, blue eyes as he studies the sheet of paper in his hand, too focused to notice your staring. Your eyes travel the expanse of his face, taking in his features. 

You remember your friend’s words, her little comment echoing in your brain. ‘Rumor has it, he’s hot as fuck,’ you’re reminded. For once, it seems her gossip is true. Even you can’t deny it; Professor Todoroki is very attractive. 

But you won’t act on your feelings, you can’t. You’re supposed to be his assistant after all! And so, with that thought in your mind, you snap yourself out of your daze. You take a deep breath, steeling your nerves and suppressing your desires, before knocking on the door.

He looks up from his papers and glances at you through the window in the door, before beckoning you inside his office. You swing open the door and take a few tentative steps into the room. He quickly looks you up and down, just for a split second, only for his eyes to settle back on your face and look at you expectantly. You hate how his overt glance at your body flusters you and makes you feel hot all over. 

“Excuse me, are you Professor Todoroki?” You ask with a soft voice. 

“Yep, that’d be me. Although, you can just call me Professor Touya. I don’t use my father’s last name,” he explains. His deep, smoky voice worsens your nervousness. The way his voice drawls has butterflies swarming in your stomach. He tosses the papers he was reading off to the side and approaches you, smirking down at you. “But what can I do for you, sweetheart?”

The pet name is something you’re surprised to hear coming from your professor. It borders dangerously on unprofessional, and yet, you find yourself letting it slide. Hearing him say something like that to you sends a wave of heat between your legs. 

Keeping your cool around him is not going to be easy, especially if he keeps calling you that. 

You start by introducing yourself and telling him your name before continuing. “I’m sure the department informed you already, but I’ll be your TA for this next semester,” you start. “I look forward to working with you.”

He hums in response. 

“So you’re my little assistant? Gonna help me with all the long hours grading, hm?” He asks. 

“Yes sir,” you answer. There’s a darker expression that flashes on his face, but it passes just as quickly as it appeared. He narrows his eyes slightly and lazily leans against his desk, supporting his weight using his forearms. Underneath the fabric of his button-up, you can see the muscles of his arms flexing. 

Oh god. 

He’s fucking ripped too. 

“You know, the other faculty told me about you,” he mentions. You can’t help but quirk up at the comment, feeling curious. What did the other teachers say about you? 

“Nothing bad, I hope,” you joke. 

“They all said you were a good student. Never a rule breaker, always professional. Top of your class too, I heard,” he starts. It fills you with a sense of pride and accomplishment, to hear your hard work has gotten you some recognition. You’re practically preening at the praise. And yet, it feels like there’s something else he wants to add. He straightens up and leans off of his desk. The space between you closes as he stands dangerously close to you. 

“But there’s one thing I think they got wrong,” he counters.

You tense up as your mind reels. His voice lowers and he adds, “I’m willing to bet you’re not as good as they say you are.” 

Your brow twitches in annoyance at his bold claim. Just who does he think he is? 

You clench your jaw, biting down the urge to snap back. He’s your superior. You can’t just yell at him and let him have it, not this early in the semester at least. Thus, you settle for tense questioning. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”

“I guess we’ll find out,” he insinuates and takes a step back. The distance between the two of you gives you space to breathe, space to fume. “We’ll meet an hour before class to go over the lesson plan. I give a lot of tests over the semester, so come by every afternoon to help with grading.” 

Oh great. 

You’ll be spending most of your week nights with this hot asshole. 

“Understood?” He asks. His cobalt eyes bore into yours as he looks at you expectantly, waiting for your response. 

“Yes sir,” you answer flatly. Despite your lack of enthusiasm, he seems to grin at your agreement. 

“Hm, sir. That’s not something I’m used to hearing from my students,” he teases. There’s a darker look in his eyes that disappears as quickly as you notice it. “Your underclassmen tend to be more… casual around me.”

“And does that bother you?” You ask, suddenly feeling a bit awkward at your apparent odd choice of words. 

“No,” he says, quickly denying it. His voice seems to drop an octave, and he adds, “I prefer it, actually.”

There seems to be something off about the situation, something greater lying behind the surface of his words, but you can’t seem to figure out what greater meaning lies underneath something as simple as an honorific to him. 

The tension is broken after he clears his throat and leans off of the desk upon looking at the clock. “But enough of that,” he starts. “Our first lecture is scheduled to start soon. Let’s start talking about the lesson plan.” 

If there’s one thing you've learned about Professor Touya over the course of the next few weeks, it’s that he’s both fun to talk to yet incredibly strict. He has a penchant for teasing you and the two of you often banter with one another, but despite the growing bond forming between the two of you, he still insists on you calling him sir. 

You suppose he still wants to maintain at least a bit of an aura of professionalism between the two of you. And so, despite how awkward it feels, you continue to address him as such, unaware of the little quirk in his smirk that always follows. 

In speaking with him and sitting in during his lectures, you find yourself being intrinsically drawn to him like a moth to a flame. You reason it’s because you admire his remarkable intelligence, amongst other enigmatic qualities.

He’s driven. Witty. Mysterious. Captivating, even.

With how much he has going for him, it’s no mystery why the university hired him; he’s easily one of the brightest minds in his field, and an engaging professor as well. You could learn from him. 

Yeah. 

That’s all it is. 

You just want to learn from him, is all. 

That’s why you’re gravitating to him.

You don't want to think about him outside of class.

You don’t want to think about the way his attractive smirk gives you butterflies.

You don’t want to think about kissing those soft lips of his as you stare at him speaking.

And you definitely don’t want to think about his fingers descending down your body and touching your aching core. 

You try to avoid thinking about those less than pure daydreams you have about him, both out of self respect for yourself, considering the insulting implication he threw at you during your first meeting, and out of aversion to entertaining lewd ideas about your professor. However, despite this conscious decision, your subconscious has other plans. You find yourself often stealing glances his way, admiring his attractive features, much to your own dismay.

Today is another instance of your subconscious betraying you, and your eyes are now fixated on him, taking in the frustrated scrunch in his brow and tensed shoulders. He abruptly stops setting up the presentation on the computer and walks over towards the windows in the classroom. In an attempt to get respite from the rising heat in the room, he cracks open all the windows. 

“You’d think with the high tuition they’d have enough money to fix this damn AC already,” Professor Touya scoffs. The building’s lack of cool air is a well-known problem, which is why you wore such a thin, short dress today in the first place. It was too damn hot to show up to class wearing much else.

He sighs in annoyance as he unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt and rolls up the sleeves, revealing something that has your breath hitch in your throat.  They start from his wrists and travel up his arms. Shades of purple and blue accent his black ink work, the hues of blue matching his mysterious, cerulean-colored eyes.  From what you’re able to discern, his tattoos go even farther than just his forearms. You wonder just how many he has, and where. The curiosity makes your mind entertain some less than pure ideas, picturing his bare skin and imagining just what kind of ink work he hides underneath his clothes. You try to reign in these fantasies of yours, but you’re too busy drooling over him.

Too busy to even notice that he’s caught you staring. 

He smirks to himself upon seeing you ogling him. His hunch was right, there was something more between the two of you; an unspoken, mutual sexual tension. Though, you seem to be fighting your apparent attraction to him, he could see it in the way you quickly caught yourself and looked away, avoiding looking at him much more at all. He’s hoping he can change that. Maybe he can make you see there’s no shame in it. He’d be more than happy to indulge your naughty fantasies. 

He lazily glances at the clock, seeing how the scheduled lecture will start shortly. It’s then that he remembers something. He leans closer to you and taps the desk, startling you and flustering you with his sudden closeness, and requests, “Hey, I had some handouts for today’s class printed out upstairs. Will you go pick them up for me?”

“Yes sir, I can do that,” you agree. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says. And with that, you leave the class and head to the printing room. Shortly after you leave, a couple students trickle into the room, all belonging to the same close-knit clique of fraternity members. They each take their usual seats and continue to talk amongst themselves freely. Their conversation is painfully loud. He can hear them all the way from the front of the classroom, even though they sit far in the back. 

“Aw man, that hot TA isn’t here today,” one of the frat boys bemoans. “She’s usually around before class.”

“Fucking bummer,” another complains. “Was hoping to get her number.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t mind getting a piece of that,” the other agrees. “She’s a total fucking nerd but I bet she’d be a decent fuck.” They all loudly laugh at that comment and continue making their comments about you. 

He knows their type, and just how it would end for you should you associate with them. Besides the fact that they’re all idiots and that alone would be enough to disappoint you, you would be wasted on them. Those frat boys wouldn’t know what to do with a girl like you. They wouldn’t know how to make you cum. They wouldn’t make you completely dumb with pleasure. There’s just something special about getting a normally smart girl to completely fall apart for him, to give a girl so much pleasure that everything else melts away. And truthfully, he wants to take you there. He wants to see just what it would take to fuck you stupid. He has to know, just how much pleasure does it take to turn your brain to mush.

His desire for you is why these frat boys irk him so much. They casually talk about seducing you into their bed like you’re an easy lay. But the fun that comes with you is the cat and mouse game, the deliberation in your brain between suppressing your attraction towards him and wanting to cave into your own desires. Your little errand couldn’t have come at a better time. He’s glad you’re not here to give them an opportunity to make a move on you, but he can’t keep sending you away before class starts to spare you the misfortune of these idiots making a pass at you. 

No.

He needs to send a little message to the competition. 

And lucky for him, he’s got just the idea. 

More students start filing in as he makes his plans. He has everything thought out, and all that is left is the final piece: you. But shortly before Professor Touya starts the lecture, you make it inside the classroom, papers in hand. You attempt to start passing out the handouts, when he stops you in your tracks. He takes the stack of sheets from your hands and haphazardly tosses them aside.

“I thought they needed that for today?” You ask, thrown off by the apparent change in plans. 

“Nah, we’ll just have them copy the diagram themselves for today. I saw some research that suggested it helps more with memorization. You’ve seen their test grades, the students need all the help they can get,” he lies. You can’t help but genuinely chuckle at his light jab at his own students. As much as you think it’s a waste to discard the handouts– if Professor Touya believes it’ll help the students, you won’t argue with him. 

“Alright, whatever you say, sir,” you laugh. The lecture starts as it normally does and follows the previously discussed lesson plan, until it comes time to show the students the diagram. He turns to you mid-lecture, about to ask you for some sort of assistance. 

“You’ve got better art skills than me. Draw this diagram. Top of page ninety,” Professor Todoroki instructs. He slides over his copy of the textbook, pages turned to a rather complicated figure. It’s far too much information to draw from memory. 

“Sure thing,” you answer. You pick up a marker and uncap it, before holding the textbook in the crook of your arm. You’re about to start copying the figure near the bottom of the board when he interrupts you. 

“Ah, I’m going to write more notes there in a minute. Why don’t you put it over here instead?” He points far up the whiteboard to some blank space tucked in the upper corner. Your stomach sinks at seeing where he wants you to place the diagram. You’re regretting wearing such a short dress today. But still, short dress or not, you have to do this. Maybe… Maybe you can manage it, without flashing the entire class? 

Without much of a choice, you study the diagram, balancing the heavy textbook in one hand while you reach up the whiteboard with a dry-erase marker in hand. You start to stand up on the tips of your toes and you try to aim for a slightly closer area of blank space, all the while your mind is preoccupied with the hem of your skirt. You’re dangerously close to accidentally erasing all of his previous notes, something you’re not too keen on doing given his strictness. 

“Having trouble?” Professor Touya teases, with an amused grin on his face. 

“No, ‘m fine,” you lie. Not that you would admit it to him, but it’s more than just a bit awkward to both hold onto the book and stand up high to draw the figure. 

“Here, let me,” he insists. He comes up behind you, his crotch just barely brushing against your ass. Your breath gets caught in your throat at your body involuntarily stiffens. You internally cringe at how something so simple as a passing touch makes your body feel hot. 

He plucks the textbook from your hands, allowing you a bit more freedom of motion to stand up higher and draw with precision. He sidles up next to you and holds the book open for you. Still, even with his help, it’s still hard to draw exactly where he wants you to. Your dress already feels rather high on your legs as is, you’re sure disaster would happen should you stand up higher. 

“Come on, you’re almost there, just stand up a little more,” he encourages and goads. You almost jolt when you feel a warm hand touch your waist, egging you on to push the envelope just a little further. Not wanting to disobey him, you do as he says, though the regret is instant. The skirt of your dress hikes over your hips and reveals the curve of your ass. A sharp, hushed silence sweeps over the room. Your ears feel like they’re burning and tears are welling up in your eyes at the sheer humiliation you feel in this moment. You draw the figure anyways, albeit carelessly and sloppily. 

You just want this to be over. 

But since your back is turned to the class, you’re completely unaware of the silent exchange happening between Professor Touya and the frat boys in the back row. While you are doing as he asked, ever his obedient assistant, he’s busy glowering at his competition. 

The message is clear. 

You are off limits. 

When the diagram is finally drawn, you straighten back out and place your feet flat on the ground. You should be a bit relieved when your dress finally covers your body once more, but you’re unable to feel that respite. The damage is done, and you’re now left to simmer in your own embarrassment. 

“Is that all you needed from me, sir?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper and thick with emotion. There’s a lump in your throat forming as you fight back the urge to cry. 

“Yeah, that’s all, sweetheart,” he answers, in a manner that’s almost a subtle attempt at soothing you. You let out a shaky, uneven breath. 

“Okay,” you say through a tense sigh. Your voice cracks when you speak once more, “I-I’ll be in your office to… get started on grading.”

You dismiss yourself and nearly rush out of the classroom, all too eager to distance yourself from the source of your shame. Once you’re in the safety of the hallways, you freely let the tears flow down your face. You’re at least thankful the halls are somewhat sparse, meaning that few are able to see you fall apart like this. The last thing you can handle emotionally is someone asking you what happened or if you were okay. Talking about it would just make the humiliation much more real.  

When you finally reach Professor Touya’s office, you close the blinds on his door behind you and prop yourself up against the desk with your hands. You try to recollect yourself, to no avail. Your shame just eats away at you. But at least with his office so far out of the way of all other classes and the blinds drawn down, no one can see you fall apart like this. You can stew in your emotions somewhat privately, at least until Professor Touya gets back. 

Professor Touya.

You want to sneer at the thought of him. The more you think about what happened during the lecture, the more you can’t help but assume he wanted to embarrass you on purpose, like the asshole he is. He enjoys toying with you too much, but this time, he really went too far. You think you’ve been much too cordial with him. When he gets back, you swear you’ll give him a piece of your mind. Fuck professionalism, that was thrown out the window when he forced your hand and caught a peek up your dress. 

Speak of the devil, or rather, think of the devil, and he appears. More time than you thought must have passed while you were smoldering in your feelings, as Professor Touya leisurely strolls into his office, now apparently finished with the lecture. You wipe your tears on the back of your hand, trying to make yourself look a little less weak in front of him and steeling your nerves to tell him off. 

“So what the hell was that about, huh? Why do you get off on being an absolute dick to me? I know you did that shit on purpose,” you accuse. He makes his way over to you and stands in front of you, partially caging you against the desk. The close proximity to him makes you feel hot with what you assume is indignation.

Yeah, that’s what this feeling is.

You despise him.

He doesn’t say anything, instead choosing to let you vent out your frustrations, taking the spite you hurl at him. You’re very much angry at him, filled with so much frustration that your voice is unsteady as you yell, “You’re such a fucking ass. And for what! I did nothing to you, I’ve been nothing but helpful and polite. What could possibly make you want to humiliate me like that? What have I done to make you hate me like this?”

“Oh sweetheart, I don’t hate you,” he soothes. His voice sounds much more husky when he adds, “Quite the opposite, actually.”

“Well I still think you’re an asshole for that little stunt you pulled, even if it wasn’t because you hated me,” you counter, speaking in between breaks in your voice. There’s still tears breaking past your lash line as a consequence of feeling so heated. Your emotions are only further worsened by the confusion you feel. If it wasn’t a malicious attempt to knock you down, why would he do such a thing to you? 

“I know, I know,” he agrees. “How about I make it up to you then?”

“How could you possibly make it up to me?” You question as your voice cracks under the weight of your emotions. You move to wipe your face when he beats you to the punch, brushing away the tears falling down your cheek with his thumb. His hand stays on your face and he tilts your chin to him, angling your face closer to his.  

“Well, I could start by making you feel good, give you something else to think about,” he insinuates. Your breath gets caught in your throat at his implication. “I know you feel it too, this tension between us. I’d love to indulge your fantasies about me, if you’d let me.”

You part your lips, searching for the right words and the strength to reject him, but with his face hovering tantalizingly close to yours, lips mere inches away, you realize you don’t have it in you. 

Fuck. 

You want him so bad. 

“P-please,” you whisper. He has a shit eating grin on his face at your meek and embarrassed begging. 

“What was that? You’ll need to speak up, sweetheart, I can’t hear you,” he teases. You swallow the lump in your throat, and lock eyes with him. 

“Please, make me feel good,” you say again, this time with a little more conviction. 

“Atta girl,” he praises. And with your agreeance, he closes the distance between the two of you and slots his mouth against yours. A gasp escapes you at the feeling of his lips working against your own. Your yearning and daydreaming didn’t prepare you for the intensity of this, for the pure wanting behind every movement of his lips. 

The kiss becomes more and more heated as he presses his body further against yours, leaving little space between the two of you. His tongue dips out from his mouth and runs along the seam of your lips and you part slightly, allowing him the space to slip the wet muscle inside. You find yourself shuddering at the contact and gripping onto the fabric of his button up as a way to tether yourself in this moment. It’s almost a bit embarrassing just how much you’re melting into his touch from something as simple as kissing. Your body is eating it up regardless, sending waves of warmth throughout your entire being and pooling between your legs. 

“Can I touch you?” He asks, after parting from the kiss, his breath fanning over your lips. Although you’ve been dreaming about this moment, and you desperately want to feel his touch all over you, your mind can’t help but chime in; you shouldn’t. 

You really shouldn’t. 

But with his hardening cock pressing up against your stomach and professionalism now abandoned, you throw caution to the wind and give in. You give him a nod and allow his hands to roam over your body. It’s almost dizzying to feel his touch, especially when his hands palm your chest and grope your ass, squeezing the plush flesh in his hands. He dives back in to press his lips up against yours in an intense, crushing kiss once more. You whimper against him, flustered at the feeling of his hot touch over your clothes. You’re becoming drunk on lust just from touches alone. 

Your arousal is heightened as the hands at your ass trail to the front, reaching your hips, before snaking up your dress. His fingers press against your clothed mound. He smirks into the kiss upon feeling the wetness already clinging against the fabric. 

You whine at the loss of friction when his fingers pull back, but the absence of his touch is short-lived. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties and tugs the clothing down your thighs. You part your legs to allow him to completely rid you of them, leaving your cunt now bare before him. You’re glad the blinds on his door are drawn, preventing anyone else from seeing the debauched sight of your panties on the floor in front of your professor. 

The pads of his fingers teasingly trace up your inner thighs, slowly inching bit by bit up your legs and making his way to your aching core. You let out an involuntary gasp when he finally grazes your pussy, his touch now no longer separated by a layer of clothing. 

His fingers run up and down your folds, spreading your juices over yourself and teasingly avoiding sinking into your eager hole. You squirm and jolt every time the tips of his fingers brush against your clit. His warm touch on your engorged bundle of nerves sends jolts of pleasure up your spine. The embarrassment and shame melts away into pure, unadulterated desire with every drag of his fingers over your slit, leaving you wetter and wetter. Your slick coats his fingers as he grazes over your hole. He looks down to see his skin glistening with your wetness, causing him to suck in a breath at the sight. 

Realizing he’s teasing himself by waiting any longer, he decides to give you what you’ve been wanting. Two fingers finally dip inside of your heat, slowly at first. You let out a breathy moan as his digits sink into you. When they bottom out inside of you, you want to squirm at how full you feel with just his fingers alone. They’re the perfect combination of long and thick, stretching out your cunt with ease. 

A sharp inhale escapes you when he slowly pulls out, almost entirely, before pumping back inside of you. He sets an agonizingly slow pace at first as he watches your every reaction, studying what movements and angles have you panting for him. Ever observant, he effortlessly finds your most sensitive spots and hones in on them before quickening his pace. 

Your legs tremble and shake with every harsh thrust of his fingers, bringing you closer and closer to cumming with little effort on his part. He knows just how to curl them up, just how to press the ball of his hand against your clit, just how to get you panting for him. The relentless pumping of his fingers in and out of your hole sends floods of wetness to your core, coating his fingers with your slick. Moans loudly tumble out of your mouth when he slips another into your heat. Though as much as he’s enjoying hearing your slutty moans, he seems distracted. 

He puts his palm over your mouth and leans into your ear. “Shhh, someone’s coming,” he hushes. “Might wanna quiet down unless you want your classmates to barge in and see your pussy full with my fingers.”

You don’t have to see him to know he’s smirking at the comment, feeding off of your apparent embarrassment. The sounds of footsteps and talking nears closer and closer to the door. Knowing your classmates are nearing the door while your legs are obscenely spread for your professor and stuffed full of his thick fingers makes you feel hot with humiliation and overwhelmed with panic, but the pleasure Touya gives you is too much to give up. And so, you bite back your moans in an attempt to stay completely silent. Your body tenses with the risk of getting caught, causing you to clench down even tighter around his fingers. But even though you’re desperately fighting back the urge to whine and wail for him, with very obvious strain, the bastard keeps pumping in and out of you. You just hope the sound of wet squelching isn’t audible through the door.

“I can’t see in, the blinds are closed. Is he not here today?” A student asks, her question partially muffled through Touya’s office door. 

“No, he’s here. My roommate just left his class a while ago,” another student replies. The door knob jiggles as she tries to open the door. You hold your breath, expecting it to swing open and to be caught in the act. 

Only, it never happens. 

The knob refuses to yield to the student’s attempts. She mutters out of frustration, “Damn, must be in a meeting right now. His office is locked.” 

“Huh, I guess we’ll come back tomorrow,” the other classmate shrugs.

You sigh in relief, letting some of the tension dissipate. So long as you’re quiet, you can make it through this without anyone knowing what went on in his office. Still, even that is proving to be a challenge with the way his fingers continue to slam in and out of your pussy. Your knuckles turn white as you grip onto the desk like it’s your lifeline, pouring all your urge to moan into tensing your hands. His half-lidded, cobalt eyes stay trained on your face, seemingly searching for something, while a lazy and smug expression plasters his own face. 

A change in the angle of his fingers sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body and a stifled squeal wrangles past your lips. He snickers at your failed attempts at staying quiet. You instantly feel yourself sweating, either from the anxiety or from quickly racing towards your peak, you’re unable to discern. Hopefully the students didn’t pick up on it.

Much to your horror, one of the students speaks, “Wait, did you hear that?”

“No? What’d you hear?” The other asks in confusion. You cringe, worrying that their curiosity will lead to your social downfall. If they know someone is in there, they’ll demand you answer them. Should that happen, you’re sure Professor Touya will make you answer the door. Not only that, but with the way he’s eating up your embarrassment, you worry he’d make you answer their questions, all the while he still fingers you out of view.

“It was like… a squeak or something,” she explains. 

“Might have been a mouse, this building is super old ya’ know,” the other offers. 

The suspicious student laughs and says in disgust, “Ew, let’s just get the hell out of here. Lab starts in 5 minutes anyways.”

You can’t seem to hear the sound of their footsteps leaving over the sound of your heartbeat in your ears and the wet noises of your cunt gushing around his fingers. Evidently, Touya hears. “They’re gone, sweetheart,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. The feeling of his breath against your ear has you shuddering in response. His hand retracts from your face, no longer muffling your sounds. “Since we’re alone again, why don’t you let me hear those loud, slutty sounds of yours, yeah?” 

He starts to mouth your neck, intermixing his kisses with rougher bites against the delicate skin of your throat, leaving behind blooms of teeth marks and hickeys in his wake. It’s almost as if he wants everyone on campus to talk, like he wants your classmates to know you slept with him; the marks all over your neck damning evidence of your hookup. The sensation of his lips all over you  and the curving of his fingers against that bundle of nerves inside you has you keening for him, whines now freely escaping your mouth. 

“A-ah, feels so good,” you moan with a drawn out voice. He thrusts his fingers in and out of you in earnest, spurred on by your sweet sounds echoing in his office. You let out a choked noise upon feeling him speed up, and your walls clench down on his fingers, sucking them further into your heat. He can tell you’re quickly nearing your peak with the way your pussy flutters around him, contracting wildly.  

He pulls away from your neck and mutters against your skin, his breath fanning over the sensitive flesh, “Yeah, my fingers fucking your cunt feel that good? Gonna come on fingers then?”

The sound of his deep voice spewing such filthy words pushes you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes into you like a harsh wave, stealing your breath away at the impact. You loudly moan as your cunt contracts around his fingers, all the while he continues to pump in and out of you, working you through your release. True to his orders, you gush around him, and your slick freely leaks from your sensitive hole. He finally relents and pulls out of you when you squirm from the overstimulation, attempting to wriggle away from the excessive pleasure. A pleased smirk paints his face upon seeing his fingers glisten with your wetness in the light. The sight gives him an idea, one that goes straight to his cock just at the thought.

“Open up,” he commands. The fingers wet with your juices hover over your lips, waiting for you to follow his demands. You shyly part your lips, allowing his fingers to slip into you. The tang of your own slick touches your tongue and you hold eye contact with him as your mouth closes around his fingers. 

The feeling of your tongue swirling around his digits and the sight of your lips closing around him has his mind racing. He can’t help but think of how your mouth would feel on his cock and how filthy you would look on your knees for him, pretty face nestled against his pelvis and teary doe eyes looking up at him. But he’ll save that for another time.

He needs more than just your mouth right now. 

Once his fingers are sufficiently cleaned off by your tongue, he pulls them out. He surges forward and kisses you, sliding his tongue past your lips. The taste of you still lingers in your mouth. He lewdly moans into the kiss, feeling that much hornier upon sampling your taste. 

“Shit,” he curses against your lips after pulling back. “You taste so good.” He dives back in, passionately kissing you once more and tangling his tongue with yours. “Fuck, sweetheart. I’d bend you over this desk and devour this cunt, but I’m just dying to be inside you.”

“I need it, I want it too. Please, take me,” you beg. Never once did you anticipate you’d be begging for your professor to fuck you in earnest. Never once did you think you’d see the smirk on his face at your lewd pleading. And you certainly didn’t believe you’d ever feel his hands slide under your dress and lift it over you, unclasping your bra along with it, leaving you bare before him. 

He pulls back from you and starts to unbuckle his belt. The sound of the metal clinking in the room makes your ears burn at the lewdness and your pussy clench in anticipation. He frees himself from the confines of his dark jeans, leaving you salivating at the sight of him. 

You want to drool upon seeing how he’s quite thick and long, with prominent veins running along his shaft. You’re then pushed down flush against the top of his desk, splayed over a mess of papers, and he hooks one of your legs over his shoulders. Your breath hitches when he positions his cock in between your folds with his other hand and runs the head up and down your slit, collecting the slick dripping from you and lubing his cock. 

He locks eyes with you as he finally pushes the tip in, relishing in your expression as he slowly slips in, inch by inch. Meanwhile, your full attention is focused on the way his thickness stretches you out and how the veins on his shaft drag against your walls as he sinks into you. You feel a bit breathless when he finally bottoms out and his tip kisses your cervix. 

He starts to pull his hips back until his cock nearly slips out, before pushing back into you and filling you up once more. You feel completely stuffed. True to his words, you can’t think about anything else, the embarrassment you felt frowning more and more distant in your mind and being replaced by sheer, mind numbing pleasure. 

But when he really starts rutting in and out of you? 

Your brain is filled with cotton. He can tell by the way your eyes glaze over and soft moans sound from your parted, panting lips that he’s slowly fucking you stupid. It fills him with a bit of pride to see you being reduced to a brainless, horny mess for him, and the realization goes straight to his cock. 

“T-touya,” you stammer and moan upon feeling his thrusts increase in tempo. You never called him by his first name before, but now that he’s inside of you, it was reasonable for you to believe the two of you are well past formalities. 

“It’s still sir to you,” he growls, correcting your slip up. He punctuates his statement with a hard and deep thrust, making you sharply gasp. His stern voice draws a shudder out of you and you find yourself clenching down on him. 

“‘M sorry, s-sir,” you apologize. You can feel his cock throb in your walls at the honorific. Even through your lust clouded mind, you put the pieces together. 

Oh.

That’s why he liked you calling him sir. 

“Yeah, that’s better,” he breathes. “Like the sound of that out of your mouth more than my name. Keep it up, sweetheart.”

Spurred on by your words, he hooks your other leg over his shoulder, slightly raising you off of the desk and angling his thrusts to hit even deeper inside of you. You grip onto the edges of the table as he fucks into you harder. 

He’s canting into you so deeply and sharply that the desk shakes with every harsh clap of his hips against your thighs. Papers scatter onto the floor, picture frames fall flat on the table top, pens spill out of their holders and clatter onto the ground, all the while he chases one goal: to make you a stupid, incoherent mess from his cock. 

His pace quickens and you bite down on your knuckle in an attempt to muffle your whines and moans, not wanting to fill the entire wing of the building with the sounds of sex. You feel the pleasure rapidly building as he hammers into you, pressing up against that sponges bundle of nerves along your walls. It’s easy to tell he is feeling the same, as more and more deep moans and curses tumble from his lips while he ruts into you. The sound of his voice moaning out for you combined with the angle of his cock pushes you to the verge of orgasming. 

“Hah, fuck. ‘M close. Wanna cum, sir. Please make me cum,” you desperately beg. He throbs at your dumbified state and from the word sir coming out of your mouth. 

Shit, he’s getting close too. 

“Yeah? You gonna make a mess all over these papers then?” He asks, amid pants. He becomes drunk at just the thought of you cumming and dripping all over his cock. It sends a shock wave of pleasure straight between his legs and he rambles on, “Think you can squirt f’me too?” His hips brutally snap into yours, giving you the friction you need to finally be pushed over the edge. 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, fuck!” You chant, slurring each of your words in drunken pleasure. You finally fall apart with a silent scream, and just as he was hoping, you gush around him.

“That’s it, cream all over my fucking cock, sweetheart,” he encourages. Strings of your slick cling to his cock and snap with every clap of his pelvis against your skin. He continues to thrust in and out of you, recklessly chasing his own release as you lay below him, now teetering on the edge of overstimulation. 

Your pussy clamping down on him and your walls fluttering finally pushes him over. His hips stutter and he cums with a deep groan, painting your insides white. 

He stills, momentarily keeping his cock nestled in your walls, as he lowers your legs back down against the desk. Slowly, he pulls out of you, glancing down between your legs to see your combined releases leaking out of your hole. He watches, eyes transfixed, as his seed slowly starts seeping out of you and pooling on the sheets below. 

The two of you really did a number on his desk, and his entire office, for that matter. You lay there on the table, dazed and panting, attempting to catch your breath and come back down from your high. He can’t help but smugly chuckle at your dumbified state, before he tucks himself back into his pants. 

“What a mess you’ve made,” he teases. He walks off and heads to the door, about to leave, when he turns over his shoulder and adds, “Make sure to clean up after yourself.” 

You steal a glimpse at the wrecked state of the desk, partially horrified at the wetness pooling between your legs and onto the assignments and handouts. You stare at the wet spots on the sheets of paper. 

Fuck. 

Maybe it’ll dry off. 

You hope so, at least. 

Your face burns when you walk into his classroom the next day. You make eye contact with him as you go to stand near the computer, bringing up the PowerPoint for the lecture. The situation is more than just awkward. 

How do you proceed from here? 

You’re not even sure what to say to him, if you’re supposed to greet him as usual. Your mouth feels dry from nervousness, and you take a drink from your water bottle. A student then walks up to Professor Touya, thankfully taking the heat off of you to speak to him. 

“Professor Touya?” The student starts, preparing to ask him some sort of question. 

“Yes, what is it?” He answers. 

“Did you spill something on my papers?” The student confronts. You choke on your drink as he presents his graded assignment that looks to be partially sullied by water damage, only you and Professor Touya both know- that is definitely not water. 

“Hm, good question. I’m not sure, my TA graded most of these,” he deflects, feigning ignorance. He thinks for a moment, before snapping his fingers and saying, “You know what? Why don’t you ask her? She might know what happened.” 

To your horror, the student takes his suggestion, turning to you and interrogating, “What is this? Is this milk?” 

“Haha, yeah. Milk. It’s just milk,” you force out. You wish you could crawl into a hole and disappear at this moment from the sheer amount of embarrassment you feel. You awkwardly apologize, “Um, sorry about that.” 

“I mean, it’s okay I guess. Accidents happen,” the student shrugs.  

“Alright, if that’s all, we have to set up for today’s lecture. If you’ll excuse us,” Professor Touya intervenes. The student then walks off to take his seat as other students start trickling in. With the student now out of earshot, you confront him. 

“I hate you so much right now,” you say. “That was so embarrassing!” He chuckles at your situation, evidently very entertained by your dismay.

But as much as this circumstance embarrasses you, you can’t help but want more of last night, ruined papers be damned. Feeling bold, you ask, “Make it up to me?”

He gives you a cocky smirk, thrilled to know you want to be fucked dumb yet again. “Sure thing, sweetheart,” he agrees. “I’ll be waiting in my office whenever you want me.”

Tags: @the-milk-anon , @mirayasimpinghard

#dabi x reader #mha dabi #bnha dabi #dabi x y/n #dabi x you #dabi fanfic #dabi x female reader #dabi smut #reader insert #mha college au #bnha college au #professor touya todoroki #professor touya #female reader #college touya smut #college touya #college touya x reader #todoroki touya x reader #fem reader #smut #Mika's works

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 43

PREV

FF is a pretty good student. Solid Bs in his Gen-eds and As in regard to his major. With one C+ that he’s still working on with Captain Neil but it’s higher than the D+ that he had been pulling before Captain Neil had started to tutor him and he really just needs to pass the one gen-ed required math class.

There was many a deep breathing exercise before he made an appointment with his educational advisor for the next semester back in October but it hadn’t been that bad even though she was the one that had asked if he knew anyone good at math since it obviously was not a strong suit of his. So he dragged his grade up from a D+ to a C+ and he was pretty proud of that.

FF has a preferred spot in each and every one of his classrooms. In his Gen-Ed courses he sits in spots that the Professors don’t even notice and where there is almost always a gap between him and the next person. He arrives perfectly almost late every single day for every single class he can to achieve this feat.

For his Major classes he sits near the front with the few Foreign Language major friends that he has.

FF likes to be prepared. Studying was a nice way to prepare for the future. If he’s already read the entire textbook front to back and taken notes then a pop quiz can’t catch him off guard. He double, triple, and quadruple checks homework. He could probably recite the syllabus for any of his classes off the top of his head. He has read it so much to make sure he’s gotten everything and is on track.

FF kind of likes finals week.

For once, for one week, everyone is as anxious as him.

He sits next to Nicky patting his back as his friend sobs into a pillow. “I’m not going to graduate and it’s going to delay seeing Erik by an entire year!” Nicky yells as he brings his face out of the pillow.

“Nicky, you only got one flashcard wrong how about you shut the fuck up!” Aaron yells from his desk where he seems to have spontaneously developed ambidextrousness as he writes notes with both hands. “Fuck I am NEVER fitting all of this one one index card.” Aaron slams his face into the table.

“I don’t even need this degree.” Matt says looking down at a textbook that he has not turned a page on for the last hour. The fact that Matt had also not even opened that textbook before now was a bit of a cause for concern. “I’ve already got offers for professional teams. I can just play Exy. I do not need to pass a workplace psychology course.” Matt says.

“You think Dan wants an idiot?!” Nicky demands not wanting to go down alone.

“She thinks it’s cute that I’m stupid!” Matt exclaims.

“No she doesn’t!” Aaron points at him, “She said and I quote ‘I love it when you use that big ol sexy brain of yours.’ the last time you had her on speaker phone!” he uses a slightly more…effeminate voice when he impersonates Dan but FF had spoken with Dan and to his memory she did not sound like that.

“Fuck you’re right she deserves an all rounder!” Matt cries, head in his hands.

“Why do I even have to TAKE this Gen-Ed about history?” Nicky demands now holding onto FF as if he were a teddy bear.

“So that we’re well-rounded individuals with a wider perspective on-”

“Smithy, my sweet child, I was not looking for an answer.” he feels Nicky’s hand come up to his hair and maybe he’s being treated more like a favored pet?

“You’re having trouble with a Gen-Ed?!” Aaron asks turning around in his seat, “That’s embarrassing.” he turns his nose up.

“I’m having trouble with something that is going to be useless in my adult life.” Nicky says as if he were not currently an adult. “You are having issues with a class that will have huge ramifications on your future if you don’t manage to learn it!” Nicky points out.

“Eat my shorts Nicky.” Aaron hisses.

“Maybe I could study if you would wash your shorts Aaron. I can smell your laundry pile from over here!” Matt spits.

The fight devolved from there and FF slipped out of the dorm as Nicky was holding a chair over his head to seemingly throw at Matt for his ‘unreasonable number of sticky notes messing up the flow of Nicky’s studying’.

He heard a crash.

“It’s probably fine.” he says to himself and he has his index cards with the speech he has to give for and he really should go over to talk with Captain Neil.

He walks to Captain Neil, Andrew, and Kevin’s door and- “There faster-!”

FF walks away from Captain Neil, Andrew, and Kevin’s door, remembering only in this moment that Kevin had declared that he would be “Living in the library until this paper is done or I am.” to the team at the last practice of the year.

Captain Neil and Andrew were never the type to waste an empty dorm room.

He misses Pepto Bismol as he hears a particularly dirty line of Russian coming from his Captain’s dorm room.

***

Eventually Finals week is done and dusted with only 4-5 more blow-ups in his dorm room that result in Nicky, Aaron, and Matt stopping their fight to see if they accidentally had knocked him out with all of the thrown debris (only happened once when Aaron threw a textbook that Nicky ducked but he didn’t.)

FF came out of his final…final feeling pretty good all around. He had managed to get some extra tutoring time with Captain Neil after Kevin managed to finish his history paper a little early. Despite all of their fears and complaints Aaron, Nicky, and Matt all did manage to pass all of their finals and their classes.

The Tower was closing tomorrow for the rest of the year and despite checking almost every day with Nicky he still was invited to go to New York City with most of the team to stay at Allison’s house.

“Smithy, did you pack a swimsuit?” Nicky asks.

“Nicky, we’re going to New York for Christmas break. Do you think we’re going to swim?” Aaron asks incredulously.

“Two words, my fetus of a cousin: Hot. Tub.” Nicky holds his hand up and putting one finger up and then another. “Is hot tub two words?” Matt asks as he reaches for his own swim trunks.

“Yes Matt hot tub is two words.” FF says nodding.

“Thank you Smithster.” Matt says.

“I can’t believe you don’t know that hot tub is two words.” Aaron says with a huff.

“I can’t believe that you don’t know how to not be an asshole even after you started getting regular sex with Katelyn.” Matt returns, “Look at how not a thing that was when Smithster answered it.” he gestures to FF.

“You cannot compare Smithy to Aaron. Apples and Tomatoes.” Nicky dismisses.

“Whatever, so Allison got a hot tub at her place?” Aaron moves past the conversation.

“Aaron you just made fun of Matt for asking stupid questions.” Nicky says with a hand on his cheek.

“I fucking hate being part of your family.” Aaron says without any real heat.

“Yeah sure.” Nicky says, rolling his eyes and smiling as he saw Aaron packing swim trunks that FF knew he had bought for his cousin.

“Okay, I’ve got the packing list that Allison sent. Do we wanna run through it so that we’re all properly packed?” Matt says holding up his phone.

“Yeah, let’s run through it.” Nicky says with a sigh.

They went through Allison’s provided list twice and then zipped up their suitcases. Smith was going to be driving to the airport with Matt. Neil and Andrew were going to be driving the Maserati up alone while the rest of them were going to be flying up to New York City.

Now onto something that filled FF with far more dread than simply passing tests that determined whether or not he continued to get a free ride in college.

Meeting new people.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

#Fluent Freshman AU #Just as a note I'm probably going to be taking November off #I should be getting the keys to the Condo on Halloween #and there's just so much to do with it #So I'll be doing a smaller WW #and taking the month off for FF #But I'll come back with some fun I've been planning for ages #Specifically Smith getting to meet Renee and Allison for the first time #And really getting to know Dan #There may be a few special guests but I haven't decided yet #Andrew and Neil absolutely take an extra day to get up to New York for 'absolutely no reason' #but the reason was that they pulled off to a quiet pit stop and made out for so long that it was just irresponsible for them #to not go to a motel #As for where we left off with the Winter Banquet #It was just Smith waiting around until the bus came back #He just ignored that old dude looking for him #and walked to the bus without breaking stride #Who knows who said that Smith was there #I do #FF - 42 #AFTG AU #AFTG OC #Andreil #Nicky Hemmick #Kevin Day #Aaron Minyard #Matt Boyd

[jackie5656]

First and Last With; James Potter

A/N: Hello again! I finally finished that wonderful request, so sorry it took forever. Football (NFL playoffs) and school preparations have kept me preoccupied. Winter break is over and I’m absolutely devastated. For anyone in college, I wish you luck for this Spring Semester. But with that being said, school starting back up means I likely won’t upload as much. So I apologize in advance. Regardless, I hope this makes up for the wait on this request. To the lovely anon and all others, enjoy!

Summary: The one where the Marauders vacation to the Potter’s beach house, and a revealing drinking game ensues...

TW: Descriptions of panic attacks, Sirius is an ass as usual, a lot of mutual pining.

   “Marlene, you have packed half of your house and more, it’s just a week’s vacation.”

“Anything could happen, Sirius. Better to be over prepared than under prepared.”

“I’m just happy James is filthy rich.” Dorcas deadpans, straightening when you and Lilly shoot her a disapproving look. “And so, very generous at the same time.”

“I’m not filthy rich.” James laughs, taking your bags from your grasp and loading them into the trunk for you. Amongst all of your friends belongings, piled high enough to reach the top of the van you’ve rented for the adventure. “We’re just...Comfortable.”

“That’s what all rich people say.” You and Remus look to each other, stunned at your simultaneous blunt confessions. 

“Shush, the lot of you.” Lilly chides, never sparing commonalities. 

“Remind me why we couldn’t just use floo powder? I’m already sweating, and my complexion does not do well in heat.” Sirius fans himself dramatically. James allows you to lift yourself over the mountains of bags with his arm for support in order to reply. 

“When have any of you experienced the adventure of a road trip?” You’re beaming at the thought, James takes your distraction as an opportunity to admire your unusually giddy attitude. Though the real reason you’re so eager to be away from home pulls at his mind, his grin faltering. He pokes your side, grabbing your attention. 

“Miss sunshine gets shotgun, I’ve called it.”

“Prongs, I thought you’d have wanted me to be your passenger princess?”

“Absolutely not, though I’ll miss those luscious locks of yours. I’m driving, so I select my navigator.”

“You’ve been there a million times.” You note, crossing your arms incredulously. James smirks, placing his burgundy and gold quidditch cap atop your head. 

“I’d much rather you keep me company.” He says so only you can hear, unknowing of your flushing when he turns back to Sirius. “Pads, Moons is gonna need a pretty view, it’s fortunate he’ll have you in the middle seat.”

“I’m reading! Reading this entire time, very busy.” Remus teases, pleased with the raven-haired boy’s mock offense. 

You round the corner of the van after checking the trunk for the fourth time, positive you haven’t forgotten any supplies for the trip. James is at the passenger side, holding the door open for you. He’s got a pair of prescription sunglasses on, and looks very different. No less handsome, if anything, the shades accentuate the bravado you’ve always envied. His arms are especially toned after another quidditch season, tanned from the summer sun you’ve missed so dearly. You’re staring. 

“Systems ready, co-pilot?” He beams down at you, pulling his cap over your eyes in teasing. You stick a tongue out at him, pulling his arms away so you can  adjust it right again. 

“I feel silly in this.”

“Nonsense, you look adorable. My clothes suit you.” He defends, so casual you don’t let the words resonate until after he’s shut your door and rounded to the drivers side. 

“Enjoy the passenger seat, princess.” Sirius sneers, pouting despite not holding any true ill-will. 

“Gladly.” 

************

“Are we there yet?” 

“No, Dorcas. Just like we weren’t there ten minutes ago.” James glances at the girl through the rearview, slightly amused with her childish complaints. 

“You know, we could just pull over and-”

“No floo powder!” You and Lilly shout to Sirius, hoping not to have awoken a sleeping Marlene and Remus. Sirius covers their ears, both of them having dropped their heads on each one of his shoulders some time throughout their slumber. You finish fiddling with the radio when a good song comes on, taking a moment to look at the lot of your friends all corralled in the van. 

“Where’s the camera, James?” 

“On my side door here, I’ll pull over if you want it.” 

“Oh, so you’ll pull over for her.”

“Shut it, Pads.” 

“No need, I can reach it.” You lean over the seat, careful not to block his view of the road as you quickly grab it. James swallows, clears his throat to act natural whilst all of his insides begin to burn. 

“Hot?” Is all you ask, studying his discomposure.

“What?” He starts, voice shaky and strained. Sirius falls into a fit of muffled laughter from the back, leaving you confused. “J-Just a little warm, yeah.” Potter recovers, now well aware you were inquiring about temperature. You turn up the AC, taking the cover off the lens and pointing the camera toward the back. Sirius smiles wide for the camera, handsome features lighted by the early afternoon sun. Marlene and Remus drool along on his shoulders as Lilly beams brightly from the back. Looking positively radiant, as always. Dorcas smiles, but holds up her favorite finger to the lens. You grin,full of adoration for the entire lot of them as you snap a couple photos, ensuring they’re all in the frame. 

James admires in increments from the rearview, blowing a raspberry to the camera when you point it at him. 

“Eyes on the road, Potter.” He shakes his head, running a hand over the steering wheel in a mindless habit as he hears the camera snap. Looking over quickly to smile at the lens. Effortlessly handsome, as usual. 

“We have to take as many pictures as possible this week.” You demand, getting excited all over again for the much needed vacation, spent with all your best friends, no less. 

You roll down your window even more, sticking your head to enjoy the warm, salty air. It smells of the beach, grass, all things green and beautiful. You’re so happy your head spins, giggling to yourself as you catch Lilly doing the same behind you. Meeting her eyes in the side mirror and scrunching your nose when she blows a kiss, an embellished hand pretending to capture it in the air and holding it to your heart. 

James does a double take from his view of the road and then you. Trying to stay focused and not find any distraction in your adorably delighted mood. His brows furrow when you shuffle forward, aiming to get even more of your body out of window the feel the entirety of what this beautiful view has to offer.

“Absolutely not.” He chastises, a finger hooking onto your belt loop and tightening. His eyes are on the road, one hand on the wheel as he tugs you back inside. 

“Lame!” You whine, hitting his arm in distaste. 

“I prefer my friends with their pretty heads in tact, thank you.” 

You settle in your seat, still full of delight but a little more contemplative as you think about what got you here.

“Summer vacation!” Sirius throws himself between you and Remus during lunch. Gathering an assortment of food on his own plate. You’ve barely eaten, stomach turning at the thought of being home for two months. You’re nudged from under the table, meeting James’ gaze, whose eyes avert to your abandoned plate. A subtle request for you to eat. You offer a weak smile, shrugging before your friends go on. 

“Two whole months without exams.” Marlene adds, absolutely pleased with not having to spend another second with her nose in a book. 

“We’ll be seventh years, I can hardly believe it.” You’ve considered Lilly’s words the entirety of this last month of classes, absolutely dreading going home. Hogwarts is more home than your house would ever be, and your friends are the only real family you have. You lose your breath at this, biting at the nail of your thumb and wincing when it draws blood. 

“I’m gonna head to the library,” You announce, blinking hard to fight the room from blurring. “Forgot to turn in my potions textbook.” It’s believable enough for the group to nod along, chorusing their farewells as you head out of the great hall. Heart racing and hands trembling. James takes only a moment, eyes following you the entire time. It’s not his business, but he knows that demeanor. He’s seen all of this before, in the boy he calls his best friend. Sirius Black, who leans forward and shoots James a look. Instantly, the chaser is on his feet, mumbling a feeble excuse and heading out of the hall in search for you. 

“I think he left the curling iron on.”

James searches the corridor wildly, all of the students being in the Great Hall makes the search easy, he can follow the sound of your fleeting footsteps with ease in this sea of silence. He follows your distant frame up a set of stairs, cursing to himself when they shift before he can follow your path. He’s searching for a new route, not wanting to shout to you and scare you even more.

There’s a lot of running, a couple instances of tripping over his own feet, but eventually Potter catches up to you. 

You’re sat in a windowsill beneath an overhang of a hallway above, curled in on yourself. James approaches carefully, trying to control his panting breaths. 

“Fuck, James!” You startle each other, studying the other instantly.

“You’re” the athlete coughs, winded, “so fast.” You smile, but it does little to calm you down, because as he gets closer, the view around him blurs, and everything sounds cloudy, distant. 

“I’m,” you try to form words, too loud because you can’t hear yourself properly. “F-fine.” You try to move, try escaping to prevent embarrassing yourself further. Clutching your chest and swiping at the flood of tears that can’t be ceased. 

“You’re not. You’re having a panic attack.” 

“Happened b-before,” you wheeze, staring at your hands to make sure they’re real “I’m good.” 

“And I’m a humble introvert that loves Slytherin, sit down.” You begin to wheeze, rubbing your hands over your legs to stop them from sweating, ground yourself maybe. “I’m gonna hug you, tight. Is that alright?” You nod, because you’re not entirely sure what he’s just said and it’s easier to comply. 

He encloses you in an embrace, loosening for only a second when you fight it. He’s squeezing again, but it’s not unpleasant. You’re shaking, and your breaths are still rapid. James swallows, terrified and unsure. Because all of this usually helps Sirius but he’s still kind of freaking the fuck out.

“Let’s talk about something.” He suggests, wincing when you hiccup for air in reply. “I know you’ll love this. What’s something about me that annoys you?” You’re aware he’s trying to distract you, and you feel like you’re dying, so you give it a go in the off chance it’ll help.

“You’re im-immature.”

“Good. But you’ve done better than that, love.” 

“You’re reckless. You play quidditch like,” you lick your lips, trying to control your trembling. “Like you’re indestructible.” 

“Attagirl, something else?”

“You’re picky, and...And you’re too stubborn to try new things.” James hums, recalling a time you’d forced him to drink pumpkin juice an he hurled in the lavatory minutes later. He rests his chin on your head, pleased when the added pressure slows your breathing. 

“You’d do anything for your friends, no matter the personal expense. It’s self destructive, p-probably exhausting.”

“Ouch. You really know how to flatter a man, love.” 

“I don’t want to go home.” You whisper, so quiet he’d miss it had he not been surveying your every move. The confession shocks even you, and James, for likely the first time in his life, is devastated to be right about something. 

“I’m not gonna let you. We’re going to figure this out. I’m gonna figure this out, I promise.” 

“You’re doing that thing again.” You note, wiping your nose with the sleeve of your robe. Further comforted in the feel of his chest vibrating against you from laughing.

“And you’re forming full sentences.” He loosens, giving you space to decide whether or not you want to separate.  You don’t, not right away, not when you can feel the strong, stable beating of his heart. 

“What am I gonna do? I can’t stay here over break. Even if Dumbledore allowed it, my family would-” You falter, unable to finish. James holds tight again, nauseated. 

“I promised. And I intend on keeping it, love.”

**********

“Land! Sweet, sweet land.” Sirius cries, throwing himself onto the freshly cut grass. 

“James, it’s stunning.” Lilly shades her eyes to admire the shore house. Standing taller than the others around it. 

“It’s home. Away from home, that is.” James shrugs, and you can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. There’s a faint, deep-rooted envy for the blessings your friends hold. Sirius rolls onto his back to look at you, the only one noticing your hunched shoulders amongst the rest of the group beginning to unload the van. 

“Shall we go inside, lovely? Get dibs on the best rooms while these common folk collect our luggage. He extends his arm for you to take, adjusting the sunglasses adorning his face and ignoring the displeased looks of your friends. Stealing a kiss to your temple as he leads you inside. 

“Moony, sweetheart, do be careful with my things. I’ll show you what bed to place them on.”

“Fuck off, Pads.”

“That’s Sir Padfoot, to you.” 

You and Sirius falter, shocked to see an older woman placing the finishings of a homemade meal on the large kitchen table. The inside is even more impressive than the out, but you don’t have much time to appreciate the decorum. Considering you’re engulfed in an oddly familiar embrace. 

“Welcome, welcome!” She beams, holding Sirius’ face and kissing his cheeks with small pinches. 

“How’s my Siri?”

“Alright, mum. Thanks. James didn’t mention you’d be here. Though it’s a very happy surprise.” He looks at the wrinkled, stunning woman that smells of lavender and tea like she’s hung every star in the sky. It’s then you make the obvious connection this is Mrs. Potter. 

“Oh, he doesn’t know either. I’m only here to make sure you’re all settled in and then I’ll be on my way. We haven’t visited here in a while, I wanted to be sure it looked alright for you all.”

“Hard to imagine it ever looks less than gorgeous,” you say without thinking, “thank you for having us. This is lovely.” 

“And so are you, dear. Sirius, tell me this beautiful young girl is with you?” She strokes your hair, and it’s the most comforting touch you’ve likely ever felt. 

“Only in my dreams, unfortunately. Unless dear y/n would like to make a wish come true?” You laugh, swatting away his puckered lips. 

“Y/n? Oh, I’ve been waiting to meet you! Sweetheart, Jamie talks about you so much in his letters!”

“Let’s get waste-Mum!” James drops the bag in hand, yours. Pulling the handle of liquor behind his back in pure shock. “What are you doing here?” 

“Thought I’d have a warm meal waiting for you kids. You must be starving after that drive. Though I’m so happy you did as opposed to powdering here. Shows some responsibility. And Jamie gets so sick sometimes with the powder and all-”

“Mum!” The taller boy repeats, setting the array of luggage in hand down and hiding the bottle behind it. 

“I’m doting, aren’t I? Remmy!”  She stops herself, rushing over to envelop the taller boy in her arms. He, just as Sirius, is absolutely pleased to see her. She goes down the line of girls, putting faces to names and genuinely loving every second of it. James sighs, no genuine distaste in his nature as he observes.

Sirius throws an arm over your shoulder, cheeky as ever. “Mum was just telling us about your letters home.” 

“You’re just as pretty as he said you were. All you girls are so beautiful!” She goes on, blissfully unaware of her beet-red son. 

“She exaggerates.” James scratches his neck, skin burning with embarrassment. 

“Does she?” Siris pulls you closer, basking in your shared humiliation. 

“This food looks wonderful Mrs. Potter. Thank you so much for thinking of us.” Lilly clasps her hands together, rolling her eyes fondly at James’ indebted glance. 

“Call me Euphemia, please. And yes, you all must be starving. Come, fill those bellies with something warm.” You’re in a state of shock as you sit, unaccustomed to such hospitality and genuine kindness. It’s evident where James gets his big heart, undying selflessness. 

The food is amazing, you all go for seconds with a chorus of shared appreciation and compliments. Euphemia beams as she collects her things, pleased to meet the lot of friends her son cares for so deeply. 

“All the beds have fresh sheets, and there’s extra throw blankets in the linen closet. Jamie, your father says go easy on the fire whisky. He’d ask for no drinking, but we all know that’s a long shot. Don’t break anything, and Remmy, keep everyone in check.” The taller boy nods swiftly, no doubt having heard the orders before. James gets up from his seat, kissing his mothers cheek and enveloping her in a hug. 

“Thank you mum, seriously.” She fixes his hair, wiping invisible smudges from his face in a fit of doting. 

“No problem, I’m glad you were all able to make it here. You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like. All of you.” Theres a quick moment where she meets both you and Sirius’ eyes, the two of you nodding with feigned smiles. Quickly, she kisses both Moony and Padfoot’s heads, stopping for only a moment to caress your cheek with her thumb, a faint sadness in her gaze. Everyone else is enveloped in conversation, passing servings across the table as they would at the Great Hall. 

“You’ll keep an eye on my Jamie, won’t you?” She whispers, touch soothing you with an unknown ease. 

“Of course, though I’m not sure he needs it.” You hold her wrist, somehow not minding the affection whatsoever. 

“So he likes to think. He does, really, speak so fondly of you in his letters. You’re even more lovely than he described.” You want to cry, so overwhelmed with her generosity and love, a maternal energy so strong it’s wiped your mind of any anxieties. 

“Alright, mum. Let the poor girl eat.” James guides her toward the fireplace, while his mother pats his arm and says something to him you don’t quite catch. James’ ears burn bright red, and he nudges her gently so she’ll stop looking over at you. The rest of the group turns toward the fireplace, echoing their farewells and gratuity as she waves. Floo powder enveloping the space around her and sending her off. 

“Does that turn your stomach just looking at it, Jamie?” Marlene mocks, the rest of your laughing through bites of food as he flips her off. 

“Fuck off, the lot of you.” 

“We should start cleaning up.” You suggest, taking your own plate and bringing it to the sink. “This way we can unpack before the sun sets.” Lilly follows, taking her and Dorcas’ plate to you as you begin washing. Sirius groans, grabbing a dish towel from one of the drawers and drying the dishes you hand him. 

“Can’t we just charm the sponges to clean these?”

“Dad had them countered so they can’t be charmed. Said it was supposed to teach me some ‘household responsibility.’” Sirius howls, thoroughly amused.

“I’m just curious about these detailed letters back home.” Remus mutters as he carries his plate past James, dodging his swings and rushing toward the group at the sink for safety. 

*****************

After everyone’s settled in, and you’ve all recovered from the ‘who called what room first’ arguments, there’s an obligatory round of shots. A bin begins to pile high with cans, and you’re all sat around a bonfire atop the Potter’s outdoor furniture. Even the furniture for the backyard looks expensive, so you clutch your drink in hopes not to make any spills. 

You’re buzzed now, skin tingling with an uncommon ease as you lean against the arm of the couch. Sea breeze easing the warm air as the fire pops in front of you. 

“Alright, none of you are drunk enough.” Sirius chastises, shifting in his seat and tossing Lilly another beer. “Never have I ever,” you all groan in half-assed annoyance as the name of the game sounds, “been snitched on by Peeves.” 

You and the rest of the girls take slow, ashamed, sips. The boys all looking over in amazement. 

“We snuck out one time! All I wanted was a bloody butter beer.” Marlene confesses, flushed. James stretches as he approaches, still sore from driving. He passes you his cup, grinning when you cringe at whatever concoction he’s come up with. You move your legs so he can sit beside you, the rest of the couches having been taken. 

“It was a terrible craving, but nonetheless worth the loss of points for Gryffindor.” 

“Is that why we were tied with Ravenclaw mid semester?” Remus laughs over his cup. 

“We still won the cup!” You and Lilly defend, James taking hold of your legs to place them on top of his. He isn’t even thinking about it, too enthralled with the teasing conversation before him as he slides a hand under the cuff of your jeans. Warm hands calloused from quidditch running over your shin. You’ve always found affection with him comes easier than with others, and the touch comforts you, electricity lingering on your skin. 

“Never have I ever, had my first kiss.” Because Dorcas also aims to have the rest of you drinking more, she says what she thinks is the most common proposition. Your stomach turns, and you debate on taking a sip just because it’ll spare you the embarrassment. You must consider it too long, because Sirius’ brows shoot up in shock. 

“Merlin, how?” Is all Sirius manages, the girls’ jaws dropping because you’ve never told them. 

“I volunteer!” Marlene shoots a hand up while you curl into the cushions, wishing you’d just had the drink. 

“It’s not that there haven’t been opportunities.” You struggle through the explanation, tugging on the sleeves of your shirt to fight the cold. “I just, I guess, want the first one to matter. If it’s been this long I may as well make it special.” They all coo in mocking, laughing when you flip them off. 

“I get it.” James pats your leg, taking generous sips of his own drink. 

“You don’t.” Theres an amusement in your tone, no real meanness to any of it. 

“Well what about that Hufflepuff third semester, he was totally into you.” Dorcas inquires. 

“Are we seriously this interested in my love life, or lack thereof?” You roll your eyes when they all agree, giddy from the topic and the alcohol. “I thought he was into me, but I don’t know. We stopped talking after a while.”

“Wait,” Remus narrows his brows, too contemplative to see James’ signals. “That curly haired guy, beater for Huffle?” You nod, giggling because he’s not usually this slow to understanding, clearly inebriated. 

“Wasn’t that the kid that came up to us at Hogsmeade, Prongs?” Potter vehemently shakes his head, chugging his drink again. 

“Nope, I don’t think so.” 

“No, I’m pretty sure it was. You two didn’t get on that well, I think.” Sirius covers his mouth to muffle his laughing, basking in Moony’s drunken confession. 

“You sabotaged me!” You frown, James grabbing your leg so you can’t kick his side. 

“Listen, I overheard him boasting in the locker room. He’s not the type you should be around. Trust me.” He’s sincere, enough to make you relax. 

“He was a bit of an ass, sweetheart. Prongs isn’t entirely wrong.”

“You two are still snog-blocks.” Dorcas is quick at your defense, crossing her arms in solidarity.

“If I wasn’t banished to solitude, I’d kiss you, Dorcas.” 

“Time and place, lovely.” You clutch your heart, feigning a blush in your antics.

*********

“Alright, I need my beauty rest. Someone needs to remain the prettiest of the friend group.” Sirius stretches, tapping a dazed Remus on the cheek to get him up. His actions initiate the turning in of the rest of the group. To which you and James groan. 

“It’s only 2, you’re all lame!” Potter sneers, looking to you for consolation. You nod along, displeased with their departure. 

“You night owls can stay up as long as you want, but we have all week to be sleep deprived.” Marlene ruffles James’ hair and kisses your temple as she stupors inside, giggling all the way with the other girls. 

“And then there were two.” You stretch, moving over when James shifts, moving into a laying position. In order to fit comfortably, you still have to keep your legs over his. “You know, now theres three other open couches.”

“I like it here.” He decides, enclosing his hands over his chest and settling in. You chuckle, letting him tangle his legs in yours. 

It’s confusing, because he chooses you as his passenger, his seat-mate, scares other guys away. Fuck, he planned an entire trip just because you and Sirius have such shitty home lives. Guilt twinges in your chest, and the alcohol allows you to finally say what you’ve been holding in since you first got in the car. “James?” He hums, hazel eyes looking up at the array of stars in the night sky. “Why did you do all this?” Potter sits up, looking over to you in disbelief. 

“Why wouldn’t I? Don’t you like it here?”

“Like it? It’s a shore house filled with all of my closest friends and alcohol. I love it here.” He laughs, nudging your legs with his own in teasing. 

“I’ve been wanting to ask you something,” he starts, answering your question with one of his own. “Would you be willing to spend the whole summer here?” 

This time, you sit up, brows raised in shock. “Sorry?” 

“Instead of having to go home, you could stay here.” 

“James, I couldn’t possibly intrude like that-”

“It wouldn’t just be us two.” He unnecessarily reassures. “I’ve already spoke with Pads, and he’s staying. My mum doesn’t want him going home either.”

“You already talked to your parents about it?” 

“In the chance either of you said yes. They both are more than happy to have us stay here. There’s internship positions at my dad’s company, and he said if we looked after the house and helped him out, we’d be more than welcome to stay.” 

“Are you starting a shelter for the broken homes club or something?” You jest, not in poor taste, but because it’s the only defense mechanism you know. James frowns anyway, upset at the thought.

“I care about the both of you. And...I’d never want either of you going home to- Well, anything other than a place you feel safe. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you. Knowing I could have stopped it. Understand?”

You nod, warm tears brimming in your eyes. Because in a world full of people that don’t, James Potter cares. You tackle him in a hug, overcome with the foreign feeling of being cared about, protected. He falters, wrapping an arm around your waist with a small laugh. 

“That’s a yes, then?” You nod, smile pulling at your lips when he uses his thumb to wipe away your tears. 

“James?”

“Yeah?” He’s soft-spoken now, eyes studying yours as you press your hands to his chest. 

“Is there...Any other reason you told that guy to stay away from me?” He swallows, licking his lips with an unusual anxiety to him. He meets your eyes again, pleading for another hint.

“Would you want there to be?”

“I’d like to have my first kiss.” You play with a pull in his sweater, fighting a smile at his nervous demeanor. “Would you want it to be you?” He nods, slow, and honestly unsure if you’re fucking with him. Considering how embarrassed he’d be if this is some joke, or a dream, maybe. “James?” You move closer, and he snaps out of his daze.

“I would.” He averts his eyes to your lips, back to your eyes again to ensure you’re sincere. “Like to kiss you, I mean.” 

You remove the space between you, putting your lips to his and hoping it comes natural like everyone says. It must, because he’s pulling you into his lap, a hint of a whine escaping his throat. You grin, flushing at his eagerness. He squeezes your sides harder, a warning. 

“Stop it.”  He continues past your jaw, down your neck, hearts thrumming with excitement and uncertainty. He tilts your head with his thumb, grinning when he nips at your skin and you gasp. Pulling back, he surveys his work, kissing you two more times before letting you breath. 

Is that what I’ve been missing out on?” You pant, energy coursing through you and accentuating your buzz tenfold.

“Up to expectations?”

“Exceeded, I’m pretty sure.” You blink hard, taking hold of his wrists and moving them so they can slide under the hem of your shirt. You hold them at your waist, a silent sign to keep them there. Though you’re sure he would have anyway. He kisses you again, more intense this time, finally allowing all the pent up tension between the two of you release. 

James, against every fiber of being in his body, pulls you away from him. Both breathing hard to collect yourselves. “While I’d really, really like to keep this up.” He starts, trying not to reconsider when your perfume envelopes his senses. “I’d like to take you out for dinner first. If you’ll let me.”

“Are you asking me on a date, Potter?” You whisper, teasing him as if it’s the hottest gossip to reach Hogwarts. 

“Are you gonna say yes, pretty girl? Or leave me hanging?” You nod, and James throws his head back against the cushions, absolutely relieved. 

*************

You blink awake, fire still burning brightly after being charmed by Lilly earlier in the evening. In the midst of you and James conversation, filled with recalling old times, plans for the rest of the summer, and a lot more alcohol, you both fell asleep. James’ jumper covers your frame, while the boy lays on the other side with only a sweater to keep warm. 

“Prongs.” You nudge him, wincing when he groans. “It’s too cold, let’s go in.”

“Too tired,” he croaks, voice riddled with sleep, “too drunk. Come over on this side.” He rolls on his back, groaning again when the world spins with him. 

“What, like...Next to you?”

“No, curled up on the floor like a cat.” Your brows furrow at his sassiness, fighting a smile as you crawl over. Muttering a half-assed apology when you nearly knee his groin. 

Hesitantly, you place a head on his chest, letting him grab you under one knee and pulling it up so you leg rests over his abdomen. Immediately, he releases a deep breath, fully relaxed. Your body, though, tingles with that same electricity from before, keeping you awake. 

“Sleep.” He orders, nudging the back of your head with his shoulder, eyes closed but somehow aware.

“Can’t.”

“Is this alright?” He blinks awake, afraid he’s made you uncomfortable. 

“Good, this is good.” You reassure, pulling on his jumper so it covers both of you. He pushes your arm away, tugging on the fabric and covering only you again, stern in his actions. 

“Close your eyes. I need us both to sleep this alcohol off so I can kiss you again.”

“Who says I’ll let you, Potter?”

“I may have been your first kiss, but I’m also aiming to be your last. So please, Dove, shut up and sleep” You’re speechless, he’s stunned you with his confession and simultaneous attitude. 

“I hate you.”

“I seriously doubt that.” There’s a smile on his face, you can hear it in his grumbling voice. Wordlessly, he moves the arm that’s under you so he can stroke your cheek, eyebrows, and jaw with the hook of his finger. Knowing the gentle touch will send you off to sleep. And it does, because you don’t wake again until morning. 

********

“Rise and shine, love birds. If you want to hoot with the owls, you’ve got to fly with the eagles.” Sirius chimes, a click of a camera sounding out after he speaks.

“Any louder, Pads, and I’ll break your jaw.” James covers your ears, shielding you from your friends shrill laughter with an intense glare. His head pounds something awful, and he’s pretty sure he’s never been this hungover in his entire life. He remembers every second, though, memories of last night bringing a dopey smile to his face. Despite the alcohols consequences. 

“Hey.” He nudges your arm, ignoring the gawking of his friends through the glass sliding door as he wakes you. You yawn, stretching atop him and regaining sense of your surroundings. 

“Are we supposed to be spinning?” James rolls his eyes, much too fond of you for his own good. 

“We have to get up, theres breakfast.”

“I can’t eat a single thing right now.”

“Yes you can,” he pushes you again, sighing in feigned annoyance when you rub your face into his shirt. Shielding the morning light from your eyes. In one swift movement, he sits you both up and hurls you over his shoulder, ignoring your squirms of protest with an obnoxious yawn. He sets you down at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, grumbling a hello to your astonished group of friends. You’re too hungover to feel embarrassed, smiling a thank you to Remus when he slides his glass of orange juice toward you, Sirius’ sunglasses over his eyes. 

“Gimme those,” you plead, extending an arm that’s quickly swatted away.

“Get your own,” he whines, “I let you have my juice.” You accept this, nursing the glass as though it’ll save your life. 

“Late night?” Lilly teases, putting a plate of food in front of you and James. You both groan, but offer your gratitude for breakfast anyway. 

“Figured you would have at least made it inside.” Marlene chastises, amused with your zombie-like states. You frown when James finishes what’s left in your glass, watching as he leans across the counter to grab the carton and refills it. Sirius places a steaming cup of tea in front of you and Potter, avoiding your distrusting gaze as he clears his throat to speak. 

He’s awfully cheeky all the sudden, hoisting himself onto the counter with his signature mischievous grin. “Never have I ever…Had my first kiss?” His voice tilts in questioning at the end, and you’re momentarily displeased with the realization you’ll be spending the rest of the summer with the shit-starting bastard you consider a friend. 

You’re absolutely flushed, curling in on yourself when a chorus of cheers erupts after taking a swift sip from your mug.

#james potter x reader #james potter #aaron taylor johnson #Marauders #marauders era #marauders x reader #marauders fanfiction #marauders imagine #james potter imagine #james potter fanfiction #james potter fluff #marauders fancasts #hogwarts #harry potter #sirus black #Remus Lupin #lilly potter #lilly evans #dorcas meadowes #marlene marauders #fluff #angst #sirius black x reader

[inthepeakymidwinter]

Professor (Thomas Shelby x Reader)

Summary: Reader finds out that her professor harbors major feelings for her. Steamy moments ensue during midterms. (There will be a part 2) Word Count: 1041 TW: College/University *Story is unedited for the time being* -----------------------------------

It had been an eventful first semester during my senior year in university. I was prepping for my midterms at 9pm on a Saturday when I heard a soft knock on my door. I got up from my bed that was cluttered in papers, notebooks, and highlighters. I walked to the front door and checked through the peephole. To my surprise it was Professor Shelby. Someone I’ve had the pleasure of being in a weird relationship with. I’ve often caught him staring at me from across the class during lectures. He’s invited me to stay after class sometimes to go more in depth with our lessons. Occasionally he peppers in a few flirty lines as he teaches. I’ve had good grades in his class, and I never needed the tutoring, but he was too intimidating to say no to. Even though a large part of me never wanted to reject him in the first place. I tried to brush off what he said last week when our hands touched accidentally. I spent my entire weekend trying to forget his words.

“I can’t stay away from you Y/N”

I shivered as he placed his hand on top of mine. We stared at each other, and my mind went blank. I inhaled deeply and went back to writing notes in my notebook once he pulled his hand away.

For him to find my dorm room was an utter and possibly criminal surprise. I couldn’t think of any reason not to open up the door, but my heart was racing, trying to leap out of my chest. I placed my hand on the doorknob and opened the door, preparing to meet those oceanic blue eyes of his. When I opened the door I was met with an empty space, Professor Shelby nowhere in sight. I peeked my head down the hallway and saw him walking in his black coat, trying to exit the building. In my head I cursed myself out. I waited entirely too long. Instead of going back into my room and hiding, I decided to make a run for it. “Wait!” I screamed down the hallway, begging to catch up. Right before he made it to the exit doors I saw him turn around. He had a half smirk on his face and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. “Professor Shelby” I panted, completely out of breath.

“Thought you weren’t home” He spoke quietly. “I shouldn’t...be here”

“You’re right” I smiled.

He handed me the flowers and stayed in the moment. We both hung onto the flowers for what felt like an eternity, just to look into each other’s eyes. “Professor…why are you here?” I asked.

“I wanted to give you something. For midterms” He sighed and looked at the floor. I smiled at him and placed my hand against his cheek, almost forcing him to look back at me. “Come with me” I invited with a warm energy. He shook his head.

“Y/N, I can’t. I don’t need to get you in trouble. You’re already enough trouble as it is” He commented. I wasn’t going to take no for an answer. I did my best puppy dog eyes for him. “Please professor it won’t take long I promise” I begged him. Professor Shelby ran his hand through his jet black hair and sighed. “Alright come on then” He replied, making me smile even more. I walked back quickly to my dorm room and felt very grateful that my roommate wouldn’t be home until tomorrow night.

As soon as I opened the door and let him in, I made sure to lock it behind us so no one would know. I walked to our small kitchen area to fetch some tea.

“Would you like some tea professor?” I asked politely. He shook his head.

“That’s not what I want” He commented and walked up to me. As he got closer, my body stopped itself against the granite countertop. It was as if we were centimeters apart.

“Professor I-“

“Let me take your mind off of things for a while, eh?” He smirked and brushed his hand against my face. I nodded my head and blushed incredibly hard.

“Professor Shelby I thought you said you couldn’t-“

“Couldn’t what? Make you feel good? I never said anything about that princess” He flirted.

My heart leapt out of my chest, probably for good this time. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I went against what my brain told me and leaned in to kiss him. It felt like bliss, his lips were soft and his cologne had a clean but smoky fragrance to it. It was intoxicating being around him. He reciprocated the kiss, this time catching a small bit of my lip with his teeth and softly tugging it. No one has ever pulled a kiss like that off so well, only in the movies. We broke apart for a few seconds to look at each other once more before I wrapped my hands against his neck and crashed my lips upon his again. This time as we both kissed, he slowly entered his tongue into the mix. As he did so I was alerted by both of his hands sliding down and reaching my ass. He lifted me up quickly and placed me on top of the counter. He deepened the kiss and started feeling up on my ass, pulling me even closer to him. I wrapped my legs around his waist and kissed him deeply. I moaned out through each kiss and Professor Shelby moved into a new routine. He kissed from my lips down my neck and started to suck on really sensitive areas of my neck. I started moaning out each time I felt him suck and lick my neck. He playfully bit and sucked multiple spots then worked his way back up to kiss me on the lips once more. When we came up for air he looked at me different.

“What?” I asked him.

“I’ve never heard such beautiful sounds from you…and I’ve never seen you so flustered” He grinned.

I blushed even harder from his remark. “I may or may not have a thing for you Professor Shelby”.

“Oh trust me Y/N…I know” He assured.

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n

[2jaeh]

Last Summer / Kim Doyoung 

Genre: smut, angst 

word count: 16k

f! college student reader, aged up! Doyoung, slight badboy!Jaehyun and fwb!Jaemin

warnings: dilf!, age gap, old money fic!, cheating, affair, public!, unprotected, daddy!, alcohol!, blackmail!, gaslighting?, multiple smut scenes, let me know if I miss anything. 

A five week business vacation with a bunch of elite families, filled with gossip, rumors and people doing anything to climb the social ladder. But through all the chaos the last thing you suspected was a whirlwind romance with your friends father. 

appearances: college friends : Haechan, Jaemin, Chenle, Sungchan, Jaehyun 

aged up! Johnny and Kun. 

A/N: hello! its author SIN here! I haven't wrote a monster fic since FREAKS but im here for old money Doyoung after so many requested a full fic of Country Club. Sorry i've been so IA i hope you enjoy this one !

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

It was that time of year again and you and your mom were being dragged to one of your father’s business vacations which entailed around five weeks of your summer at your family’s world renowned resort. Now anyone else would be joyous that they’d be spending a luxury vacation at the hot spot for celebrities in the Summer, but now entering your twenties, and spending almost every summer of your life at this place, you figured it had lost its wow factor.

“Why couldn't we go to the Maldives or Greece like normal families” you groaned, slipping into a cashmere sweater that matched with a pair of capri pants and tennis shoes. You watched your  mother frantically  order the resort employees to prepare the bungalow to her liking until her eyes rested on you.

“Darling I thought I told you to throw those tacky shoes out” she sighed, coming over and giving you a tight squeeze, “and…you can go to Greece on your next semester break okay ? right now we need to mingle with your father’s investors, big smile!”

You gave her your best fake grin before returning back to your room and exchanged your shoes for a more high quality taste. You had no idea why your mom was being so particular about your dress code  being it was only day one and the more important guests only ever arrived in the second week.

You folded your arms and returned back downstairs to the lounge area when a familiar face completely caught you off guard.

“Jaemin!” you squealed, running into the toned man’s arms as he lifted you into a tight hug and engulfed you with his Givenchy perfume. Jaemin, your friend or rather fling whom you actually met via one of your father’s parties, was the son of a very big tech company CEO and your father’s current favourite golf buddy.

Mr. Kim Doyoung, the most handsome man you'd ever laid eyes on.

Jaemin released you from the hug and you took the opportunity to smile at both Mr and Mrs Kim as they briefly greeted you before returning to the conversation with your parents. You watched as Mr Kim pushed his glasses up as he laughed at some joke your father supposedly told, his gummy smile broke his stoic character and for a second you almost forgot your surroundings.

“Quite the surprise hey” Jaemin snapped you out of your trance and you quickly nodded. “You guys never do summer vacation, what's the special occasion ?” you questioned the dark haired man.

Jaemin chuckled and shrugged. “Dad said there’s a huge investor visiting this time and he doesn't want your dad to fumble any business proposals.” You hummed and looked back at the parents and watched your dad enthusiastically show Mr Kim around.

“Hey Doyoung it's a win win hey” your dad boasted, “our wives are happy, our kids are happy and we get to have a rematch of that golf game you cheated me out of last month.”

“Cheated?” Mr Kim smirked, “are we still running with that ?”

You gulped at his cockiness. Yes this was wrong. Entirely wrong because this was your friends father for fuck’s sake, but you’d been crushing on him for years, way before you met Jaemin. You hated to admit it but Mr Kim was your first real crush.

It all started on the night of your 18th, when he came to the party on his own because he and his family were going to leave on a business trip the next morning. He only stayed about 20 minutes, most of it was spent talking to your father and then he came over, introduced himself and placed a gift in your hands before planting a sweet kiss on your cheek.

“It's Viviene Westwood, your dad said you’re a big fan” His voice was so light and smooth. “My son starts at the same university as you next year, I hope the two of you can help each other out.”

And with that he said his goodbyes and you’d only see him at very special events after that. He did attend your 21st this year, but you and Jaemin had already established a friends with benefits situation and you decided that crushing on a man twice your age who now happens to be your fling’s father was not the path you were seeking.

“Do you think I’d have to sneak into your room every night ?” Jaemin pinched your side and you playfully pushed him before bringing your arms around his neck.

“Honestly our parents are going to be so blackout drunk every night im sure you could walk straight into my room and do whatever you want” you bit your lip and Jaemin smirked in return, enjoying the challenge.

The first two days were pretty much uneventful even with Jaemin railing you into your bed the very first night. Luckily for the two of you your dad managed to get the Kims’ the bungalow right next door and Jaemin made good use of the maintenance ladder and your balcony.

You were grateful you had Jaemin around until the morning you heard a voice you wished was in your head. The voice you thought you’d only hear when University resumed.

Lee Haechan.

“Jaemin hurry up, my arms are killing me here” You heard him say as you stepped out on the balcony to oversee the commotion. Your uni friend, well rather Jaemin’s, was standing outside their bungalow with luggage that definitely exceeded a five week stay which meant that it was likely computer equipment.

Great.

“What are you doing here ?” making sure your voice was definitely unwelcoming. “Wow y/n way to be hospitable to your good friend” he dropped his bags and clapped sarcastically. You watched the workers scramble for the luggage as Jaemin stepped outside to greet his very annoying friend.

“His parents kicked him out for the summer” Jaemin looked up apologetically.

“Can't say I wouldn't do the same” you scoffed while Haechan stuck out his tongue. “My boy and I are going to build a gaming pc, you know good old fashioned bonding” Haechan threw his arm around Jaemin while your poor friend knew you weren't in the slightest happy about this new arrangement.

“Great” you sighed, “hope you two lovebirds have a lovely vacation.”

“You can join us, you know, it's really fun.” Jaemin tried to look hopeful but he already knew you'd rather eat dirt than spend more than two hours with Haechan and build a damn pc on top of that.

You unenthusiastically waved them off and returned to your bedroom and threw yourself on your bed ready to dive into a solemn state until you heard a voice coming from downstairs.

His voice.

You tiptoed down the wooden stairs and you saw Mr Kim sitting at the corner bar with your father both adorning golf wear and engaging in conversation when your father quickly noticed your presence.

“Hey sweety, you're not hanging out with Jaemin today ?” he said while taking a sip of his scotch whiskey.

You groaned while approaching the two men, making sure your attention was on your father and not Mr Kim. “Haechan is here and they're going to spend the entire vacation building some stupid pc” you complained with a pout and your ears perked when you heard Mr Kim chuckle.

“Sorry about that, Haechan can be pretty persistent and I just wanted to help his parents get him out of their hair for a bit” Mr Kim smiled sweetly and you could tell he was genuine with his apology. “If you're bored why don't you come out for a round of golf, make sure your dad isn't cheating.”

“Uhm I don't want to impose…” you began to say and your dad quickly jumped to his feet and threw his arm around you. “My angel will be the best judge I can assure you!” he squeezed your shoulder, “go get ready sweetheart we will leave in 20.”

You stood under the caddy’s umbrella shielding yourself from the blistering summer heat as you watched Mr Kim and your father tee off on the fifth hole. Most of the banter was inside jokes they had going on and honestly you almost regretted joining their session until you saw how immaculate Mr Kim was at playing golf. His form, the way he stuck out his tongue slightly as he concentrated on his next shot and ofcourse how accentuated his muscles were through his golf gear as he swivelled his body every shot.

The heat wasn't that bad after all.

“Sir you have a call at the front desk” the caddy held the phone up for your dad to receive it.

You watched your father’s frown turn into a wide smile signalling it was either a big investor or one of his work buddies. “Hey Doyoung Johnny is here, i'm going to check him in before our wives make a big deal about his sudden appearance” your dad chuckled and hung up the call.

“Ah yes the wives biggest enemy, i'm surprised he actually showed up” Doyoung rested his hands on his golf club. “He didn't bring…her…did he ?”

Your eyes followed Mr Kim’s to your fathers and your dad quickly shook his head as he began handing his equipment to his caddy.

“Oh you know he wouldn't do that, gosh imagine what the investors might think.”

Now this story you were definitely clued up on thanks to Haechan practically interrogating Johnny Suh’s nephew, Sungchan. Mr Suh was a high end lawyer and had been working with your father’s circle of friends for years. He was a prominent figure, anyone and everyone fell in love with him and that's exactly how he got into trouble.  You're not sure of the timeline but according to Haechan Mr Suh had an affair with a young divorcee who’s case he’d been working on. Almost everyone expected his career to plummet after the news broke but it just made him more popular amongst young naive women who thought they too could bag the richest newly divorced big time lawyer.

Your mom couldn't stand him especially because she and the other wives were friends with his ex wife. But your dad never bothered since he’d always say that his ex wife was a gold digger and would have ‘ran him dry’ eventually. Surprisingly Haechan noted that Sungchan was also more than happy to know that his uncle was finally free from that woman.

There’s two sides to every story you guessed.

“Are you really leaving in the middle of the game ?” Mr Kim sighed, “this isn't just an excuse to get out of losing again is it ?”

Your father scoffed and waved his hand. “Oh please we are picking this up tomorrow, but for now why don't you get a little practice with my daughter ? she's got a wicked right swing!”

“Dad I don't think-”

“Let's do it.”

You turned to face Mr Kim who was now holding out his golf club to you as a stunning smile spread across his face. You swallowed hard as your father zoomed off in his golf cart and left you alone with just Mr Kim and the unattentive caddy.

“Mr Kim I'm not the best player so-”

“Hey my rivalry is with your father not you” Mr Kim waved his hand and grabbed a bottle of water. “I’ll go easy on you.”

You refused to be a stuttering mess so you tried your best to concentrate on the task at hand. It should be easy since there’s nothing the two of you could really talk about besides your father or Jaemin.

Oh you hoped he wouldn't bring up Jaemin.

You took your first swing and honestly like you expected it wasnt that grand. You turned to him apologetically while he let out a charming chuckle before joining you on your walk to the next hit.

“You're too tense” he commented and tapped your shoulder. “Since we're just practising, how about I coach you and next time you can win against your father.”  

You watched as he consulted the caddy on the perfect golf club and watched him stroll back over to you and replaced the club you clutched in your hands. The next movement almost had you weak at the knees as he slowly moved behind you and placed his slender fingers on your shoulders and squeezed lightly.

“Relax y/n” he calmly said in your ear. He may have been thinking this was just a friendly exchange but God your mind was thinking very different things. Vile almost absurd things. You nodded and did as he said, exhaling deeply while your heart was practically beating out of your chest.

“It's all in the hips you know” he said before clearing his throat, “May I ?”

You nodded again and within seconds his hands were on your waist. It was all very PG but anything he did always felt erotic. You kept your concentration on your posture making sure he wouldn't pick up on your strange behaviour but every touch, every breath coming from behind you felt like electricity.

“Now be gentle, allow your body to lead you to the shot rather than the strength of your hit” He continued and stepped back to watch you take your next shot.

The next shot was better but again you were no Lydia Ko. Mr Kim however seemed to be a perfectionist because yet again you were given another club and his hands returned to your waist. This time it felt a little different. You felt his breath against his neck and his hands were a lot more firmer as he guided you to redo your shot. “Now I know you can do better than that” His voice was low and you felt a sensation develop between your legs. You had no idea how you let your impulses get the better of you but you allowed yourself to arch your back a bit until your ass pretty much grazed against his crotch. You know it was evident too because you heard him suck in a deep breath but you didn't dare turn around.

“Like this..?” you managed to say and heard him hum before slowly stepping away and allowed you to take the shot.

Surprisingly that one was the best you had all day and it even ignited excitement out of you as you jumped in celebration, completely forgetting what had happened a mere seconds ago. “Oh my God did you see that ?!” you squealed and turned to face Mr Kim who had been chewing on his bottom lip before it turned into a sweet smile.

“I knew you had it in you, you're a natural and a quick learner” He held his hand out for a high five but as your hands collided, his fingers entangled with yours and your eyes met his in probably the most intense unspoken exchange in your life. You had no idea what was going on in his head and you were unaware that his thoughts mirrored yours. He had no idea why he did what he did and his head swarmed with so many unresolved questions.

This was his friend's daughter. His son’s college friend.

The caddy called the two of you up to drive over to the next hole and you both silently jumped in the backseat, hoping the situation was just an awkward exchange and nothing more. The drive was bumpy and unusually long. Both you and Mr Kim opted for looking in the opposite direction until the caddy hit the brakes causing Mr Kim to quickly shield you from impact.

“God what the fuck?” Mr Kim cursed and you mentally hated that it gave you another reason to find him attractive. There was no hope at this point.

“S-sorry sir there was a rabbit crossing the path” the caddy looked up into the rear view mirror and you swore you saw fear in his eyes. Mr Kim sighed and muttered that it was okay and to keep moving but as the trip resumed you realised his arm was still draped across your lap.

You adjusted your seating which pushed your tennis skirt higher and now his hand was exposed to your thigh as you waited to see what his next move might be. Mr Kim cleared his throat and you almost gasped when you felt him squeeze your exposed thigh before the caddy finally came to stop.

“I need you to go to the front desk and get more water and please let them know that the rabbits are roaming free on the course at this hour, it's quite dangerous for everyone involved” you watched Mr Kim tap his resort card on the payment machine and watched the caddy leave  you and Mr Kim completely alone.

“What do you study again y/n ?” Mr Kim asked casually as if nothing suspicious had happened all day and set up his next shot. You wiped the beads of sweat forming on your head. “I…study accounting Mr Kim.”

His chuckle made your eyes narrow as he took an effortless shot and turned around to face you. “Call me Doyoung, you do call Kun by his first name don't you ?” his new demeanour confused you. Was he just being friendly all this time and you were mistaking it for something else ?

“Yeah well Kun has been my dad’s friend for ages so-”

“So am I a stranger then ?” he poked his tongue into his cheek, “I guess we have to work on our relationship then.”

Mr Kim, Doyoung gestured for you to set up your next shot. Seeing as you were unsure of his intentions you decided to test the waters again. What was the worst that could happen anyway ? Him peacefully rejecting you would actually solve a lot of your current problems.

“Can…you help me again ? I kinda forgot the posture thing” you battered your eyelashes at him and you watched as his jaw tightened for a brief second before he nodded and came over to his usual position. You wasted no time in pressing back into him but this time you turned your head slightly to see his reaction.

“W-what are you doing y/n?” his low voice sent a shiver down your spine.

“What do you mean, I'm just..playing golf” you replied innocently and you heard him chortle in amusement. You felt his fingers press into your hips as you practically settled in his crotch, a bit proud that you had him a little flustered.

“You’re…a very naughty girl” he hummed as he straightened himself and allowed his fingers to dance on the band of your skirt.

You sighed and hummed in agreement. “I know Mr Kim and it seems like you're not so innocent yourself.”

Doyoung raised his eyebrow at your snarky comment yet mentally cursed his inability to keep his arousal in check. He was in dangerous waters but his head was too clouded with how this was about to play out for him to think about any consequences right now.

“Are you saying that this….exchange has you a little excited as well?” he queried and you felt absolutely delirious with lust.

“You can find out for yourself if you want” you curved your back a bit standing like an open invitation for him to do as he pleased. You expected him by now to at least lecture you that the two of you were out in the open and this whole ordeal was just absurd but instead he carefully stood behind you as your hands tightened around the golf club and his fingers ghosted its way up your skirt.

Doyoung’s breath was deep and steady as he caressed the skin of your inner thighs before taking his index finger and grazed it over your soaked panties. You heard him groan at your wetness while you bit down on your lip at the contact. You thought it would stop there but you almost collapsed when he pushed your panties to the side and allowed his long cold digits to feel your arousal.

“Fucking hell” he cursed as his other hand held onto your hip to keep you steady.

“Mr Kim…please..more” your voice quivered, not sure what you were asking for exactly but whatever was happening couldn't end right now, not like this.

Doyoung was completely immersed in how wet you were for him. He loved how your folds felt between his fingers and you were like putty in his hands. You gasped when he inserted a finger into your core and he heard him groan once more this time in frustration.

“Youre so fucking tight, id ruin you sweetheart” his words were like venom in your ear as he continued to finger you at an agonising pace.

Euphoria quickly came to an end when you heard a golf cart and it was Doyoung’s caddy returning from his errands. Doyoung quickly wiped away his hands and the two of you stood innocently as the caddy jogged over.

“Sir, they are requesting the both of you back for brunch” the caddy spoke and immediately began collecting the golfing equipment and packed the cart. You looked up at Doyoung trying to search his face for what all of this meant and whether it might happen again but he returned back to his stoic self. His eyes never met yours and he was silent and to himself the entire way back up to the resort.

If you thought your crush on him before was dangerous, well you've just entered a new territory.

By the time you washed up and arrived at the restaurant your father had picked for lunch you noticed everyone was already settled in. Doyoung sat right next to his wife and chuckled along with your father, Mr Suh and your father’s long time friend Qian Kun. Doyoung glanced up for a millisecond but returned to the conversation as if nothing had ever happened on the golf course.

“Darling, what took you so long ? Doyoung said you guys arrived two hours ago” your mother embraced you before one of the waiter’s pulled out your chair next to Jaemin.

“I had to take a shower” you pressed your lips into a smile and looked over at Doyoung, “It was extremely humid down there.” You watched his fingers twitch around his wine glass but it wasn't enough of a reaction for anyone else to notice. Your eyes drifted to Mr Suh who flashed you a friendly smile that you forcefully returned back before leaning into Jaemin.

“Why the hell is he here ? I thought our mothers hated him” you questioned as Jaemin rubbed the small of your back.

“Apparently his ex wife had been cheating on him too, way before he started his affair” Jaemin popped a cheese cube into his mouth. “Yeah right that’s what he wants everyone to believe” Haechan chimed in and you weren't going to admit it but you definitely shared his sentiments.

You looked up and noticed that Sungchan, Mr Suh’s nephew had also joined the trip as well as Kun Qian’s son, Chenle. You weren't too familiar with Sungchan despite him being in the same university as you but you knew Chenle really well. The two of you practically grew up together.

“I thought you were going to Dubai for the summer” you took a sip of your white wine while the ash blonde boy shook his head and sighed.

“Yeah I thought so too” he scratched his head, “My mom convinced my dad to come to the resort this year for the big networking party, God are they not tired of doing business ?!”

“Who else is gonna pay for your trips to Dubai ?” Haechan mused and Chenle rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he retorted, “What are you even doing here anyway Lee Haechan? I thought your parents were going to London.”

“They went without him,” Jaemin snickered, earning a shove from Haechan.

“I would've done the same,” Sungchan added.

“That's what I said” you giggled and Sungchan gave you a thumbs up while Haechan erupted in a long groan.

“Face it, without me, you losers wouldn't have any fun” he pouted.

For a minute you too had completely forgotten about Doyoung, lost in the childish banter of your friends until the memory flashed back and you felt your stomach turn. There it was. The guilt was finally settling in as Jaemin squeezed your thigh under the table while he entertained whatever conversation they were now engaged in. How could Doyoung just sit there, as if nothing had ever happened. Was what he did just something to overlook?

You couldn't have been more wrong as Doyoung’s thoughts were completely scattered from the very moment he saw you in your tennis outfit. He was engaging in conversation but wasn't really retaining any information. He couldn't help himself but to steal glances at you from the other end of the dining table. Doyoung thought he was being subtle enough until he felt a tap on his shoulder from none other than Johnny Suh.

“Gonna take a smoke break, wanna join ?”

Doyoung stepped onto the balcony that overlooked the pool area as he twirled his red wine in his glass and exhaled deeply.

“Doyoung Doyoung Doyoung, you dog” Johnny blew a cloud of smoke into the sky as he erupted into laughter, “I didn't think you had it in you buddy.” “What are you talking about?” Doyoung muttered, leaning against the marble balustrade. Doyoung’s eyes shifted to the window making sure no one was paying attention especially since Johnny’s voice was the equivalent to a megaphone.

Johnny took a step closer with a smirk spread across his face,  “Doyoung, do you know who you're talking to ? I am the King of reading the room, especially when it comes to sneaky glances at your good friend’s hot daughter.” Doyoung’s jaw tightened again and he looked back into the restaurant before gulping down the last of his wine.

“I don't know what youre talking about,” he answered coldly.

Johnny narrowed his brows and cleared his throat, “Okay so she walks in, directs a very weird innuendo at you after you two played golf alone all day and you two have been eye-fucking each other for the past half hour.”

“Would you lower your damn voice ?!”

“So it's true ?”

Doyoung ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and pulled Johnny aside. He had no choice but to come clean but luckily for him Johnny would never ever spill the beans on his adultery seeing as Doyoung had been hiding Johnny’s string of affairs for ages. Yes there were more than one and no his now ex wife and all his friends have no idea about them.

“She baited me” Doyoung wet his bottom lip, “came up to me like a fucking minx and I-”

“You fucked her on the golf course ?” Johnny asked amusingly.

“No,” Doyoung deadpanned, “I…used my fingers for a bit but the caddy interrupted.”

Doyoung hated the smug look that spread across Johnny’s face and honestly actually explaining the situation only made him feel more guilty. He was the older, more mature one; this was entirely his fault and not yours at all.

“That’s your son’s friend oh my God you're worse than me” Johnny grinned and Doyoung turned back to look at you in a hearty conversation with his son and your friends. Johnny was right. This was so much worse than whatever he has done, but he could end it right here right now.

“It’s not going to happen again, I made sure to get my point across to her very quickly” Doyoung chewed on lip.

“Oh please, you said your wife hasn't given you any in a long time and I still have the divorce papers you filed for last-”

“Throw them away” Doyoung cut Johnny off.

“What ?!” the taller man exclaimed.

“There’s no need, I'm not going through with it” Doyoung replied calmly despite his thoughts still scrambling about both his marriage and you. Johnny ashed his cigarette and shook his head as the two of them entered the restaurant.

“Whatever man, all I know is that just a small taste of that kind of adrenaline doesn't go away that easily.”

Doyoung slipped back in his seat and put on his best smile but Johnny’s words still stuck with him like a thorn in his side.

Would he be able to stop ?

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few days had passed since the golf course incident and you were grateful that your dad had been entertaining his friends on his own as they attended seminars and did God knows what until late hours of the night. It was one of those nights where all the parents had gone out to one of the bars at the resort and you and your friends figured you’d also drink the night away.

“God Sungchan I swear if you don't finish your drink I will push you into this pool” Haechan threatened as the younger boy grimaced at the taste of his 8th drink of the night. Honestly having all of them around this year wasn't that bad because usually you'd either be babysitting your parents or drinking with the resort staff.

You sipped your cocktail and danced along to the music blaring from the poolside bar in your Miu Miu two piece wrapped in a mesh skirt. Jaemin threw his arm around you and you could tell by his slurred words and sloppy kisses that he was needy.

“Are you not fucking Haechan tonight ?” you rolled your eyes.

“Don't ever say that again” Jaemin groaned while his hands ghosted over your thighs and moved to grope your ass.

“Ew get a room” Chenle spat and you sighed. As much as you’d love to get railed right now you couldnt stand that this arrangement with Jaemin only worked when he was in the mood rather than it being mutual. You already knew he’d be in your room for the night and you won't see him the entirety of the next day unless you were out looking for him.

“Yeah totally not in the mood doll” you pried his hands off your figure and took a sip of your drink, “you should call it a night, don't want to be hungover when you have a pc to build.”

Jaemin never bothered to argue back. He knew how stubborn you could be and honestly he needed to get Haechan back to the bungalow before he ended up swearing at the bartenders. You waved off Jaemin, Haechan and Chenle who went along since his accommodation was on that end anyway while you took care of Sungchan.

“You all good there buddy?” you joined him on one the loungers as he gulped down his third glass of water.

“I'm alright, sorry i'm still getting used to the whole alcohol thing” he smiled sweetly.

You giggled and tutted in response, “don't force yourself if you don't want to, Haechan may think he is the boss around here but trust me he’s a pushover.”

Sungchan nodded shyly until you saw his eyes perk up. You followed his gaze and from all people in this entire goddamn resort in walks Johnny Suh and Kim Doyoung.

Just great.

“Hey Nephew” Johnny greeted, his face absolutely red indicating he was definitely more drunk than his dear nephew right now.

You looked up at Doyoung briefly who just stood awkwardly while Johnny babied his nephew, smothering him in hugs and compliments. Sungchan stood up and stabilised his uncle, praying he wasn't going to be stubborn about heading back to their bungalow.

“Come on Uncle Johnny, time for bed” Sungchan held him by his waist while Johnny pinched his cheeks and coddled the younger boy.

“Doyoung isn't my nephew just the cutest ? He's the cutest right ?” Johnny slurred as Sungchan bid his farewell to you and guided Johnny back to their bungalow.

You wasted no time in making sure there were no awkward silences and grabbed a new drink from the bar and began heading down a dimly lit path. You couldn't look at him. Especially since he had ignored your existence for most of the week.

“Where are you going ?” he questioned, as you heard his footsteps follow close behind.

“To the beach, leave me alone” you replied carelessly. Did he expect you to respect him as your father’s friend after the stunt he pulled ?

“You are not going to the beach in the middle of the night drunk and on your own” he lectured, still following you down the path until the two of you reached the white sandy area that met the moonlit shore.

He watched attentively as you turned around and removed the mesh skirt as you soaked in the moonlight and the salty sea breeze.

“You're not my father Mr Kim” you groaned, “I can do whatever I want.” “Do your parents know where you are right now ?” Doyoung questioned as he shook the sand that filled up his sandal.

You walked over to one of the beach recliners sighing that the umbrellas were all down and sat down your drink on the table. “My parents think I'm at the overnight spa, smart of me don't you think ?” you smirked as you struggled to open the umbrella that was twice your size.

Doyoung massaged his temples before walking over and helping you open the umbrella before taking a seat on the opposite recliner. He knew he was doing the right thing by taking care of you while you were acting recklessly, but a part of him wondered if being around you in that scantily clad bikini and the amount of alcohol running through his veins and yours, was a good idea.

“What are you drinking ?” Doyoung watched you take a sip of your cocktail as you laid back in the recliner and crossed your legs.

“Rum and Coke” you replied, handing him the drink.

You were amused by how much he drank, and watched as he set the glass aside and shook his leg anxiously while his entire body tensed up.

“For someone who told me that I'm too tense you're really one to talk” you commented and pointed to his fidgeting fingers and anxious leg. Doyoung quickly took notice of his actions and gathered himself. He turned his focus to the dark sea, while you studied him wondering what the hell was going through his head right now.

“You know any normal married man would be back home laying next to his wife after a drunken night” you sighed and Doyoung’s eyes quickly darted to yours.

“I'm here to make sure you get home safely,” he said in a calm tone.

“Oh please” you scoffed, “you had no idea I was out here until you guys stumbled across us at the bar. Mr Kim it seems like you love to keep your distance from your wife regardless whether I'm here or not.”

Doyoung’s jaw tightened at your words. He knew you were not  taunting him because everything you mentioned was pretty much how it's been for the past few months in his marriage. Most of the time he met with your family on his own and your father had always commented on how divided the two of them had become after Jeno had turned 18.

“Its probably why youre so needy too, when was the last time youve even fucked anyone ?”

“Is this a joke to you ?” Doyoung retorted, “Do you not see how wrong this is ?”

You rolled your eyes, finishing the last of the drink, and sat  it back on the wooden side table.

“Honestly I dont,” you shrugged, “I did at first ofcourse, hell Ive been wanting to fuck you since my 18th birthday but now that I know youre miserable  in your marriage I dont see the harm in it.”

Doyoung pondered on your words and of course he was miserable but his reasoning for coming onto you wasn't because he needed a quick fix. God he saw beautiful women at so many investor parties but nobody had him riled up like you did. For him though it was your 21st birthday, when you wore that Elie Saab sequin dress and you carried yourself with such poise and class that he’d never taken notice of before. There was always a mystery surrounding you and with that neverending curiosity he disciplined himself into keeping his distance.

That was until a few days ago.

“You’ve been wanting me since then ?” Doyoung asked in that low voice that always hit the right spot.

You pushed yourself up from the recliner and stood up to hover over him. Doyoung’s eyes dragged over your body until his eyes locked with yours as you placed your thumb under his chin.

“Oh Mr Kim I fantasise about having you every…single..night” you mused and with that you pressed your lips against his and sighed into the passionate kiss. Doyoung quickly pulled you into his lap, his lips never leaving yours as you straddled him and immediately gripped onto his dark locks.

“I'm not going to be able to stop this time y/n” Doyoung groaned into your neck as you pushed your body further down into his lap, already feeling his hardened member against your clothed core.

“Don't stop…please dont stop” you moaned into his kisses as he grabbed your ass and buried his face into your chest, littering your collarbone and breasts with kisses. You both knew that taking your time would only raise concern so you were in agreement that it needed to be done as soon as possible.

You fiddled with his dress pants as he unbuttoned his shirt revealing the very toned body you were suspecting. God the sight of him alone like this could've made you orgasm. Doyoung quickly pushed down his pants and then suddenly pulled away.

“Fuck…Fuck!” he cursed.

“What is it ?” you looked around thinking one of the employees was lurking around.

“I don't have protection. '' Doyoung looked up at you and bit down on his lip.

“God i'm on the pill please just fuck me already” you whined and returned your lips to his desperate to regain the momentum you had earlier on.

“Are you sure this is okay sweetheart ?” He asked once again his voice filled with concern. God the age difference thing was really showing right now because everyone around your age was careless and dumb. Any guy in their 20s (and probably Johnny Suh) would be ecstatic to know they'd be able to do it raw.

You found his concern endearing.

“Do whatever you want Mr Kim, I just need you inside me” you whispered and Doyoung literally felt dizzy with ecstasy at your lewd words. He quickly responded by pushing aside your bikini bottom and rubbed circles on your clit before entering two digits into your core, preparing you for what's to come.

You were so lost in the magic he was putting in his fingers that you almost gasped at the difference when he inserted his member inside you. He was much bigger than you imagined and the biggest you ever had. He was right when he said he’d ruin you.

“Oh my fuck-” you moaned in his ear as Doyoung guided your hips to ride him. He wasnt sure if it was the impromptu fuck, the lack of sex he’s had recently or the girl on top of him right now but it was a fucking hell of a experience. You moved your hips roughly against his, expertly making circles with your hips as you built up your orgasm. Doyoung’s moans were like music to your ears as he groaned according to your movements as his nails dug into your thighs.

“Doyoung im-”

“Is my angel close hmmm” he hummed and the pet name just inched you closer to your high. Doyoung moved his hand to the front so his thumb had access to your clit, stimulating you until you were ready to give in. Doyoung watched in awe as you beautifully threw your head back and came so hard on his cock that he wished he could do it again almost immediately.

You rode out your high and to Doyoung’s surprise you removed yourself from his lap and settled between his legs. Your hand grabbed hold of his member as you looked up at him and pumped his member.

“You know, so you don't have to stress about coming inside me,” you brought your face down to meet his tip, “well coming inside me in a different way.”

Doyoung leaned back in his seat and grabbed a fistful of your hair as you went to work on his length. He knew he wouldn't last long, not with already fucking you and now with your tongue skillfully pleasing him. You hollowed your cheeks as your hand met your speed and the grip on your hair signalled that he was close.

“Fucking hell” was all Doyoung could say when he finally released in your mouth and with heavy eyes watched you swallow every bit of him.

“We should get back before they close up the bar” you said, straightening up your hair and outfit.

“Yeah we should” Doyoung agreed and buttoned up his shirt and tucked himself back into his pants. God he wished he could at least help clean you up and lay in bed with you but unfortunately that could never be on the agenda. He honestly had no idea what to say or what to do. The two of you walked in silence until you reached the bungalows, making sure to stay in the shadows just in case anyone was awake at this hour.

“Well good night I guess” you folded your arms, slightly embarrassed that regardless of what you said you still felt a pang of guilt and jealousy that he still  wasn't yours for the night.

You were about to walk off when Doyoung grabbed onto your arm and turned you to face him. He placed a kiss on your forehead and then a softer one on your lips.

“Meet me tomorrow at the squash court at 2:30,” he whispered as his thumb stroked your cheek, “Only if you want to though.”

You nodded and smiled up at him before finally parting ways and leaving both of you revisiting one of the most incredible nights of your life.

—--------------------------------

The next morning you took your time to get ready, completely avoiding the voices of your hungover parents downstairs. You knew they'd pester you about where you were, what time you got home and most importantly who was the last person you were with last night.

That was the last thing you needed to be questioned about.

“Princess are you done pampering up, we're going to the gym” you heard Haechan’s grating voice call from outside your balcony. Of course you still had to pretend you wanted to hang out with them today but it just gave you a better alibi to showing up at the squash court. You quickly slipped into a cute Ralph Lauren polo shirt and bike short set and doused yourself with your Chanel no.5 before heading out to meet your friends.

“God I can smell you a mile away” Chenle dramatically coughed as the five of you strolled down to the fitness centre.

You sighed and stretched your arms above your head, “It's called perfume, you should try it sometime” you teased and the boy stuck out his tongue in return.

“Hey did you get home okay last night ?” Sungchan tapped your shoulder looking down at you sheepishly, “I needed to get Uncle Johnny home before he decided to extend his drinking hours.” You waved your hand and hooked arms with the taller boy, giving his bicep a tight squeeze as you stepped into the air conditioned wellness centre.

“It’s all good I went straight home anyway” you lied.

You and your friends were already welcomed with green juice, herbal tea and smoothie selections by the staff while you scouted the area for where you might bump into Doyoung. The centre was quite vacant, I guess not everybody could recover as fast as your family and friends as drinking to your limits never delayed the schedule of the next day. You walked through the essential oil aroma of all the various spa treatments until you finally reached the gym and caught your first glimpse of Doyoung laughing along with the rest of the parents.

God he looked extra hot today in just a pair of black track pants and a fitted white tee.

“Dude your uncle is jacked” Haechan gaped at Johnny Suh who was walking around in just a pair of training shorts, his sweaty toned body on display for everybody. God knows why. It's not like you didn't think he was hot, you would be stupid to think otherwise, but Mr Suh was never your type. He never had the sex appeal that Mr Kim had.

“Hey kids!” your dad waved as you all strolled over to join the gathering. You put on a friendly smile as your mom already pulled you into her side and gushed to the other mothers about how thankful she was to have a daughter or something along those lines. Your mother spoke but you avoided Mrs Kim’s eyes completely, while flashes of last night kept running through your mind.

“How about you gym buffs finish up and we’ll meet for lunch later” Mrs Qian spoke even though she knew her husband would rather join in on spa treatments than play any form of sport.

“Why are we doing sports on a vacation again ?” Kun Qian sighed as Johnny shoved a racket in his hands. “Come on now Kun, you gotta look good for Mrs over here” Johnny winked as Mrs Qian giggled shyly. Johnny Suh was truly a menace for any married woman.

“Well I'm guessing you're going to sweat it out with the boys” your mom fixed the headband on your head and sighed, “My dear daughter thrives on competitive sports, especially when it’s beating her own dad in them.”

“Not this time honey, I'm feeling lucky” your dad ended with his infamous catchphrase before he’d probably rage quit later on.

“Alright so I’ll be playing basketball with the fit young guys” Johnny threw his arms around both Jaemin and Chenle who both looked enthused by this idea. “Sure then I guess Kun, Doyoung, y/n and I will head to the squash courts” your father saluted Johnny as he began making his way to the back of the gym where a row of brightly lit squash courts lined up.

“Are we playing singles or doubles ?” Doyoung asked as he grabbed a baseball cap to push away the loose strands that fell over his forehead. He was pretty composed for someone who was literally fucking you raw on a beach a few good hours ago. You wondered what was going through his mind now that you showed up to his invitation.

“Doubles, my daughter and I verse you and Kun” your father called over an employee to bring over a few iced bottles of water. Your father suggested a round with each opponent and tally the score after.

Everyone agreed to the plan and you had your first round with Kun who was a pleasant opponent that always complimented your serves no matter how lazy they were eventually becoming. You liked Kun. He was such a good husband and father that you believed he truly set a standard for men everywhere. You always wondered how he even dealt with your father and his erratic friends but clearly it never bothered him.

“I'm going to talk your father into a quick foot spa before we get onto the next round” Kun said cheekily and you smiled sweetly as the two of you stepped into the hallway for the opponent swap.

“Did she go easy on you Kun ?” Your dad came over and high-fived you while Doyoung rolled his eyes. “Well you'd have to bet that she destroyed Kun after the beating I gave you” he said, the cockiness yet again in his voice drove your arousal.

“We both did just fine” Kun snapped back, “I'm just going to rest up a bit before the next round if you are planning on drinking tonight again.”

“Okay old man,” your dad conceded and followed Kun, “You guys coming with or going on with the game ?”

Doyoung waved his hand, “I know you two will never come back and I need to get my fitness in, go ahead.” He waited until the hallway was clear and followed you inside one of the courts in silence. There was tension in the air now that he was finally alone with you.

As soon as he was certain the two of you were alone Doyoung backed you up against the corner of court, a blind spot from both the entrance, hallway and the cameras above. He exhaled deeply as he grabbed onto your thigh, pushing your legs apart and settling his own leg in between for you to nestle on his toned thigh. His slender fingers ghosted up your body until his thumb brushed over your pouty lips, awaiting to meet his.

“I thought about you all night” he whispered before leaning in and peppered kisses along your jawline. He smelled exquisite, and  you had no idea that you were already unconsciously rubbing your heat up and down his thigh.

“Why’d you ask to meet here?” you whimpered into his touch, “we could get caught very easily.” Doyoung silenced you by pressing his lips against yours passionately, moaning into the kiss as he slipped his tongue inside and wrapped his hand around your neck ever so delicately.

“I thought I’d be able to control myself in a public setting and we could sneak out after, but I can't help myself” Doyoung pushed you harder onto his thigh and snaked his hand around you to grab onto your ass. He seemed way less in control than the first two times you two were in a situation like this. It was so out of his character to be the one to initiate such intimacy especially when his family were literally just a stroll down the hallway.

Doyoung had worked himself up to the point you thought he was going to recreate the golf incident  but something quickly brought him to his senses and he immediately stepped back and neatened himself while his eyes shifted to the entrance of the court.

“What’s going on ?” you frowned and looked into the empty hallway and back to the man who just had his tongue down your throat a few seconds ago.

“We cant do this, what the fuck this is just..its too much!” he was pacing the court and biting on his nail as if sanity had just hit him.

You groaned in frustration and gained some sort of composure before approaching the older man. “Are you serious right now ? you can't just do that and then tell me youre chickening out” you spoke in a low voice obviously frustrated that he was still so indecisive regardless of what had happened last night.

“Everytime I see you it's like I throw away my morals and then reality just…hits me” Doyoung frowned and his words really pissed you off, rightfully so.

“So what am I huh ? someone you can use until reality just hits you ?” you snapped back feeling your face heat up, “I have feelings too you know and I thought I made it very clear last night.”

Doyoung became stoic. You watched him grab a racket and ball from the floor as he got into position on the other end of the court.

“Let's Play” he said in a cold tone.

“Youre fucking unbelievable” you cursed and pushed open the clear door making your way back to your bungalow and as far away from Kim Doyoung as you possibly could. You hated that for him it was purely just physical and you had to deal with the emotional side to all of this. You had no idea how much you liked him until his attention drifted from you, until he was showing some affection to his wife or when he was just purely existing in the same space as you.

You hated it. You absolutely hated having feelings for Kim Doyoung.

You spent most of the day locked up in your room, catching up your best friend on the whole ordeal to which she just said ‘find someone new to fuck with and get over it’. It was easier said than done. Jeno was completely out of the question seeing as he was the son of the man you were trying to get over. Most of the employees were annoying frat boys and you weren't sure if any man would be able to satisfy you the way Mr Kim did.

“Honey get ready, we're having dinner at the Greek place tonight” your mother called from downstairs and you inwardly groaned. What was with these people and doing almost everything together. Sighing you got ready anyway because missing a dinner would not only have your parents nagging you about it you’d also be letting Doyoung know that the quarrel you had earlier was a lot more serious than you wanted him to think.

You needed him to know that you didn't care and you were going to be the one to move on. Pulling out your Versace black cocktail dress or the revenge couture collection as your friend calls it, you made your way  down to dinner making sure to keep your head up high and your attention off Mr Kim entirely.

You hoped.

“You guys finally made it” Johnny Suh’s voice boomed from the grand table that was set up on the fairy lit private deck at the back of the quaint restaurant. You began making your way over to your friends when you noticed an extra man had now joined the festivities and boy was he something.

He looked around your age, dressed in Prada with his hair slicked back which emphasised his sculpted face with the prettiest set of dimples you'd ever seen. His eyes immediately locked with yours as you took the seat across him and his lips curled into a friendly smile.

“Good evening everyone” you greeted and Sungchan quickly cleared his throat and gestured at the man seated next to him. “y/n this is my older brother Jaehyun, Jae this is y/n” he introduced the two of you and the man reached over the table to shake your hand.

“You're the infamous y/n then” he smiled, his voice was low and utterly charming.

“Infamous ?”

“Well,” he shrugged, “the beautiful heir to this luxurious resort, best believe you're talked about.”

You blushed at his words ignoring the irrelevant comment from Haechan and continued getting to know Johnny Suh’s other nephew, a true god sent distraction from Kim Doyoung. The two of you spoke for hours. You learnt that Jaehyun was an up and coming actor, and his family were in the textile industry. His hobbies were photography and collecting vinyls from his favourite artists all the way down to his great grandfather's favourites. You also learnt he frequented Milan for fashion shows, and it was his favourite city in the world. A place he already offered to give you a personal tour of.

“You know I heard that he goes to Milan just to fuck these old rich women” Haechan whispered as the two of you snuck around the back of the resort for a smoke.

“Why would he need to, he’s too rich to be a sugar baby” you rolled your eyes and drew in the freshly lit cigarette.

“Bro is just a milf hunter, it gives him bragging rights and those cougars love it” Haechan grabbed the cigarette from your fingers and brought it up to his own lips. You peaked around the corner and watched as Jaehyun conversed with the rest of the men, laughing along with their jokes. He looked so innocent compared to the perverse things you were now hearing about him.

“Probably runs in the family, streets already calling him Johnny Suh’s prodigy” Haechan ashed out the cigarette and used a tester cologne to mask the smell.

“God he is so hot though, you think he could retire milf hunting for just one night ?” you smirked as the two of you made your way back up to the restaurant. Haechan gave you a pat on the back as he followed your gaze back to Jaehyun.

“If he’s anything like his uncle he probably already fantasised you underneath him during dinner.”

All the scandalous chats with Haechan and the obvious flirting with Jaehyun completely grabbed your attention from Doyoung and you almost forgot about the argument earlier on. You took the opportunity to steal a glance but to your surprise his eyes were already on you and he barely bothered to look away. His stare was dark as he twirled his whiskey glass in his hand and ignored the conversations that were happening around him.

“Honey the girls and I are all packed and off to the overnight spa” His wife interrupted his stare and he gave her a sweet smile and never bothered to share his plans for the night. That's the kind of relationship they had. No questions, no suspicions, just a facade for the friends and family that everything was perfect.

The ladies said goodbye to their tipsy husbands and thanks to your white lie that you already spent time at the spa the previous night you got away scot free from the outing. Haechan, Chenle and Sungchan decided to hang out at the arcade with Jaemin following close behind, seeing as you hadn't paid him any attention thanks to the appearance of Jaehyun. Which meant it was just you, Jaehyun and your father’s friends still lingering around the restaurant and bar for the rest of the night.

“So y/n what do you guys do for fun around here ?” Jaehyun shot back the last of his drink and leaned back into his seat looking so goddamn inviting.

“Well,” you held up your glass, “we drink, we play sports nobody cares about and we complain about our embarrassing parents.” Jaehyun followed your eyes to your father doing his best impression of what looked like the moonwalk and chuckled.

“Hey he’s pretty good!” he mused while you shook your head and stood up.

“You wanna get out of here?”

You and Jaehyun strolled around the empty courtyards as all the restaurants started packing up for the night. The summer night finally began cooling down and Jaehyun’s body seemingly got closer as the two of you walked around aimlessly.

“Why don't we take a little pitstop?” Jaehyun smirked and pulled you behind one of the restaurants where both of you were out of sight to onlookers. You could tell he was an expert in these circumstances, he definitely was a man who always got what he wanted.

Consensually of course.

“I heard something about you” you bit down on your lip as he began giving you butterfly kisses along your jaw and down the nape of your neck. Jaehyun hummed as you felt him smirk against your skin. “Hmmm and what did you hear about me ?”

“That you’re a milf hunter” you giggled as he licked the weak spot he found just under your ear. Jaehyun pulled back and an amused smile spread across his face. “A milf hunter ?” he repeated your words as if it was the first time he was accused of such.

“I mean I generally meet older women,” he added, “but I don't actively search for….milfs.”

“So I'm not just a second choice for tonight then ?” you mused, pulling him back to your body by his half buttoned dress shirt. Jaehyun licked his lips as he stared down at you and his large hands massaged your thighs while you moaned in his touch.

“I came all this way after Sungchan sent me pictures of you guys hanging out, baby i'm here because of you” Jaehyun lifted your face to bring you into a deep sensual kiss that figuratively and literally had you weak at the knees. The kiss was amazing but it was still sub par in comparison to Mr Kim. Jaehyun was a lot like the guys you've met at country clubs and student events. They were all drop dead gorgeous but lacked the experience, the class you craved. The type that came natural to someone like Kim Doyoung.

God you were thinking about him while another man, your rebound was practically worshipping you right now.

“You wanna come back to my place ? my uncle won't say anything” Jaehyun asked in between breathy kisses while he tried to hike your dress up for better access.

You ran through the pros and cons of the indefinite possibility that Johnny Suh’s big mouth might spill your escapades to your father despite his nephew trusting him this much. The only pros you could think of were getting fucked by Jeong Jaehyun and possibly getting over Mr Kim.

Possibly.

While you were in a mini dilemma Doyoung’s mind was a mess. He obviously couldn't let go of how you had left him at the squash court earlier and secondly how you spent the majority of your night with Johnny Suh’s promiscuous nephew. He downed another round of brandy, wincing at the taste while his friends fooled around on the roulette tables.

With a free night away from his wife and the happy hallmark family agenda Doyoung assumed it was finally the night to let loose. But all he could think about was you and where you were right now. What were you doing ? Did you not want him anymore upon meeting Jaehyun ?

“Need a top up ?” Johnny tapped Doyoung’s shoulder and the dark haired man nodded and held out his glass. “Hey you good ? my man you’re free tonight be happy!” Johnny cheered but his smile turned into a frown when Doyoung just appeared more stressed than usual. “Hey is this about..” Johnny turned to look at your father, making sure he was at a good distance from the conversation, “y/n ?”

Doyoung nodded and Johnny sighed.

“It happened, we went too far and now all I can think about is my wife and my son,” Doyoung sighed, staring at the brown liquid in his glass. “I truly fucked up.”

“You know what's fucked up ? you and this trainwreck of a marriage” Johnny scoffed, irked at the fact that he had to have this conversation about his friend’s failed relationship once again. “She is not the reason your marriage is not working, honestly she has nothing to do with your marriage regardless.”

“I know I know” Doyoung responded and sipped his drink, “I just cant get her out of my mind.”

“My advice is spend actual time with her, not these little sneaky one hour sessions and see how you feel after” Johnny suggested and Doyoung was quite surprised that the advice Johnny had given wasn't a total waste of time.

“If you're genuinely interested in another woman, it will make signing those divorce papers much easier, that's all i'm saying” Johnny concluded and topped up his own glass with the remainder of brandy.

“What about her family, Jaemin God what would everyone say if-”

“We will get to that when it's serious enough” Johnny interrupted before Doyoung dug himself into more worries. “For now just figure out if you're finally ready to call it quits.”

Doyoung decided to take a walk to clear his mind and ponder on the advice Johnny had given him earlier. He knew very well that his marriage was pretty much doomed a few years back but he hated that he stuck around to the point where he felt guilty to be the first one to bring up a divorce. What was even worse was that during a conflict over dinner some time back Jeno had come up to him and told him he’d be okay if it happened and it was better than both of them pretending to be happy for other people.

It was that very conversation that prompted Doyoung to have the phone call with Johnny, ready to begin the divorce  process but his sudden interest in you made him retract it. He felt insane. Careless. He made himself believe that he was only interested because he was unhappy in his marriage.

But of course that was never the case. You were different.

Doyoung stepped down into the courtyard and just as he was about to retreat he caught a glimpse of your figure that was partially lit by the overhead light of the restaurant. You were up against a wall, pinned against it by Jaehyun as he ravished your neck with kisses and you grabbed onto him for dear life enjoying every second of it.

Doyoung felt his body heat up at the sight of you with another man. He had never experienced that amount of jealousy and just pure anger up until this moment. Did he have a reason to be ? no. Could he have walked away and allowed you to do whatever you wanted seeing as you weren't his ? yes.

Was he going to ? not likely.

“Sorry, uhm Jaehyun ?” Doyoung cleared his throat causing you and Jaehyun to quickly move out of the shadows and gain some composure. Doyoung’s presence made you roll your eyes as Jaehyun approached his uncle’s friend unaware of the tension between the two of you.

“Oh hey Mr Kim” Jaehyun grinned and Doyoung’s jaw tightened as he took in your lipstick stains all over Jaehyun’s swollen lips and neck.

“Your uncle…He is looking for you…probably needs help getting back home seeing as Sungchan is preoccupied at the moment” Doyoung reported as his eyes briefly met yours.

Jaehyun looked back at you and shrugged. “Hey my offer is still open” he winked and gave you a quick peck on the cheek before moving his lips to your ear, “if you still want me just knock on my bungalow.”

You watched him say his goodbyes to Doyoung before quickly disappearing into the resort in search of his uncle and began your own journey home before you were interjected.

“y/n..” he held onto your wrist as you looked up at him.

“What ? you want to take over from where Jaehyun left off hmm ?” you raised your eyebrow, “you want to use me for about twenty minutes and go back to your happily married life ?”

Doyoung chewed on his bottom lip and exhaled deeply. “Look,” he began, taking a step forward, “I apologise for making you feel that way but please understand that was never my intention. I would never hurt you or purposefully disregard your feelings y/n” he loosened his hold on your wrist and caressed your cheek.

“A Lot of it is overwhelming but I've never done this before and  you're not just some random hook up y/n, believe it or not I actually like you” Doyoung’s words made your cheeks heat up, not completely sure how to react to his confession.

“Now listen,” he continued, “I had time to think about it and If we're both on the same page that it's not just a physical attraction then I want to spend time getting to know you better.”

“But how would we-”

“I managed to get an extra room up at the hotel away from the bungalows and I'll schedule myself free time for ‘business meetings’ throughout the day for us to hang out” He answered by pulling out a hotel keycard as evidence.

“How did you get a room isn't it at all suspicious that you're not at your bungalow ?” you frowned, still trying to process everything he was suddenly offering you.

“Y/n, me sleeping in a different room let alone a different suite altogether than my wife is not all that surprising to anyone around me” he admitted as he stuffed the keycard back into his pocket.

“If your little white lies work as well as you say they do then this should be a breeze right ?”

Your head was muddled and you wondered if he was being genuine about getting to know you or just stringing you along until he had another guilt trip fiasco. You needed some type of leverage to not only save your feelings but to also prove that he was in this for real this time.

“If you change your mind and for whatever reason decide ‘this is too much’ during the rest of the vacation  i'm going to come clean to both your wife and Jeno” you folded your arms and stood your ground.

“Sure, you have every right to” Doyoung answered, quicker than you expected him to. “Even though I will be going through a divorce in the possible future, if there is truly something between us, I'll sign the papers as soon as the vacation is over.” His words gave you goosebumps. He was absolutely serious. He was ready to go all in ?

You looked up into his almond eyes and nodded. “Deal.”

The next two weeks were probably some of the best moments of your life. Not only could you indulge in mind blowing sex with Doyoung but the two of you started to develop a genuine emotional relationship through your scandalous affair.

“What’s with this obsession with Greece y/n ?” Doyoung brushed the wet hair from your face as the two of you soaked your naked bodies in the spa bath of his hotel room.

“I love Greek mythology” you shrugged, “from the time my dad took me over there in elementary school, I had a school project on a Percy Jackson book” you giggled.

“I didn’t care much for the fantasies of Percy Jackson until I saw the real thing in Athens, it took my young breath away.”

Doyoung listened to your little story as he always did while watching the water droplets cascade down your shoulders and disappear into the soapy water. He finally felt relaxed for the first time in God knows how long.

You noticed you were babbling on and turned around to face him, giving him a cheeky smile.

“Are you daydreaming about screwing me while I was talking about a treasured memory ?” You raised your brow and Doyoung chuckled.

“Well I wasn’t thinking of it until you mentioned it just now”

You pulled him into a deep sensual kiss as you settled into his lap and sighed as he wrapped his delicate hands around your waist. Doyoung moved his lips down to your neck and nibbled on the sensitive skin, smirking when you moaned out his name. He loved hearing you praise him.

“Baby let’s move this to the bed” he whispered into your ear before pulling you out of the tub and quickly dried the two of you up before carrying you over to his bedroom.

“Someone wants to take his time tonight” you hummed and Doyoung gave your thigh a quick smack, ordering you to get on your stomach.

“That ass has been grinding up against me for the past hour and I can’t help but want to get a piece of it” his words made you wet in an instant as you slowly arched your back, giving him what he wanted.

Doyoung’s fingers danced across your spine and with his index finger he pressed into your core, sticking his tongue in his cheek as you already begged him for more. “Does my Angel want a little more?” He asked innocently as his second finger came in contact with your clit.

“Please more” was all you could say and Doyoung granted your wish, pushing two digits into your core and feeling your core clench around him. You loved when he took his time but you hated that you couldn’t last long when he did. You were already feeling an orgasm building way too early and quickly reached for his fingers and pulled away.

Doyoung chuckled darkly behind you and realised you weren’t going to hold on for long tonight and began lining up his member and pushing deep inside you. He sighed as you let out a gasp and gripped onto the bed sheets as he moved in and out of you in a brisk movement.

“That feels so good Mr Kim” you mewled, knowing it drives him insane in the best way possible when you refer to him formally in this type of setting.

Doyoung grabbed a fistful of your hair as he pounded into you. Your back arched in the best possible way for him to find your sweet spot. You were going delirious with ecstasy as his cold fingers moved to your throat and squeezed lightly. He was a professional in knowing what made you weak at this point.

“Come for me my Angel” Doyoung spoke between strokes and you could hear in the strain of his voice that he was close too.

Doyoung bit down on his lip as he watched you draw circles on your clit to help you finish. You were completely fucked out and he loved looking at you weak under his touch. Your pants became faster and Doyoung held on a little longer so you could cum all over him before pulling out of you and brought your mouth to his tip.

“Open up pretty” he swiped his thumb over your quivering lip and slipped his throbbing cock into your mouth until he finally came undone. Doyoung watched you swallow every bit of him until he was completely cleaned up and he stroked your head in satisfaction.

“Good girl.”

The next day you had plans with all the moms while Doyoung attended a few meetings with his friends. Everything was finally running smoothly until what you had feared most had already begun stirring.

Jaemin got a text from his mother to retrieve her ipad from his father’s suite, where she assumed it would be considering her husband only hired the suite for work related activities. Jaemin showed his identification to the hotel and headed up to the room until he realised that he didn't have keycard access. Mentally cursing himself he pulled out his phone in order to text his father until he heard a trolley park behind him.

“You need access to your dad’s room bro ?” the young bellboy smiled and held up the employee master key.

“Yeah thanks man” Jaemin nodded and watched the boy open the room for him and disappear down the hallway.

Jaemin stepped into the apartment and he immediately had an unsettling feeling fill his chest. From the unmade bed to the alcohol and chocolates spread across the coffee table, this looked a whole lot more than a ‘work suite’. Brushing it off knowing his parents have their issues anyway Jaemin began searching for the ipad. He slumped into the couch and looked in the crevices until he pulled out a very interesting piece of material.

“What the fuck ?” Jaemin murmured as he inspected the lingerie until the set started looking familiar to him. There was no way he thought. His heart began racing as he looked around the room once more and everything started to make sense. Your favourite chocolate, your favourite champagne left on the table. There was a new edition of Vogue magazine laying on the floor, the same one he saw you with at the pool the other morning.

Jaemin felt lightheaded. Who was he mad at more? Was it you ? the girl he was sleeping with just before the summer break or his father. The man that raised him and the man he respected. He was angry but reality hit when he realised he couldn't react.  He couldn't  cause a scene amongst the hundreds of socialites that could probably ruin his university reputation. This was how their lives worked. Everything needed to get buried before anyone outside their circle found out.

Jaemin sucked in a deep breath and left the room in silence. He needed to discuss this with the only person who could bury this messy affair.

His father.

While you were blissfully unaware of the shitstorm that was about to come, you happened to bump into Jaehyun and Mr Suh in one of the conference room lobbies. Both of them smiled down at you giving you an uneasy feeling that you couldn't explain.

“Looking for someone?” Johnny Suh smirked annoyingly.

“M-my father” you lied, “where is he ?”

“I think I saw him head over to the pool bar with Kun” Jaehyun draped his arm over your shoulder and escorted you very far from a confused Kim Doyoung who had just joined his friend Johnny Suh. The more you seemed to converse with Jaehyun the more awkward things had become. Since the night you made out with him you ofcourse cut it off after your deal with Doyoung, but you wondered why Jaehyun never bothered to question your sudden disinterest in him. He just moved on. You greeted him during dinners and said goodbyes when he left, that was about it.

“So where do you disappear to at odd hours during the day y/n ?” Jaeyhun brought you over to a table, pulling your chair close to him.

“You expect me to hang around Haechan and friends ? no thank you” you scoffed and Jaehyun stuck his tongue into his cheek and shook his head.

“You never answer my question sweetheart”

“Is it any of your business ?” you raised a brow and you hated the smug smile that spread across Jaehyun’s face. Him getting you heated probably got him off or something.

Jaehyun leaned in and you caught a whiff of his overpowering Tom Ford perfume. “I know you’re fucking Mr Kim so cut the innocent act” he smirked, enjoying seeing the fear that now filled your eyes. There was no point in denying since he probably found out from his loud mouth uncle who Doyoung admitted to letting in on your little secret.

“Like I said, that’s none of your business” you kept your cool, waving at a waiter to order something strong to keep your nerves down.

Jaehyun politely waited until your order was received and again leaned in close enough to make you tense up.

“Let me cut to the chase here y/n” Jaehyun began, “this little secret might be the juiciest story in the last few years and if it gets out your dad’s reputation, Mr Kim’s reputation…”

“Nothing is going to happen because no one is going to find out” you cut him off. Jaehyun raised his brow as if you just challenged him.

“Help me out and I’ll keep your dirty little secret” he leaned back in his chair and smiled as the waiter brought over your drinks. You glanced over Jaehyun, trying to figure out what he could possibly want when he practically had it all.

“Remember I mentioned that the only reason I’m here is because of you” Jaehyun sipped his drink, “well turns out there’s a lot of perks in dating the heir of this resort.”

“Oh really like what ?” You rolled your eyes at him.

“There’s this film I want to star in and the director is obsessed with wanting to come to this resort during these ridiculous networking vacations” Jaehyun explained, “Now I don’t have the power and neither does my uncle have a say as to who gets an invite, only your dad.”

You frowned as you tried following what he was getting at.

“Why can’t I just tell my dad to invite the guy why do I have to be dating you ?”

Jaehyun sighed and placed an arm around your waist. “Wouldn’t it be just romantic ?” He smiled, “y/n and Jeong Jaehyun met at her fathers resort and now she’s accompanying him to the Cannes film festival officially as his girlfriend.”

“You’re delusional” you rolled your eyes.

“And you’re fucking your boy toy’s father let’s not play the morality scale here sweetheart” he smirked and honestly you wished you could punch him in the face.

“Remember, your fathers entire empire could come crashing down” he added and you felt a shudder go down your spine.

“..how can I be so sure you won’t say anything after the festival is over?” You asked in a small voice. This felt like a dead end situation.

Jaehyun pulled out an envelope from his pocket and placed it on the table in front of you.

“My uncles a lawyer and I’ll make sure this little agreement between the two of us stays equal and authentic, no fine print.”

You couldn’t believe this was happening. One minute you were in paradise with Doyoung and now you’re in a law and order episode with Jaehyun. But you couldn’t risk it. Not for Mr Kim and definitely not for your parents. Image was absolutely everything in this socialite world and one little mistake could ruin it all.

“What were the two of you planning to do after he divorced his wife anyway ? Get married ?” Jaehyun chuckled dryly beside you.

That was another question that always kept you up at night. Yes he was going to divorce his wife and be with you but the two of you could never go public. Your parents would be livid plus the press would have a field day. You could be dropped in university for your actions, the sin count was endless.

Maybe there was no happy ending after all.

You signed Jaehyuns agreement and decided to retire to your bungalow before contacting Doyoung about everything that had just happened. This may even be the last night you could spend with him.

While you were wrapped in your own thoughts Jaemin watched as his father got ready for the dinner party your father was hosting tonight. Everyone was invited but Jaemin already felt sick to his stomach that he’d have to be in the presence of both you and his father.

“Dad, are you almost ready ?” He knocked on the door as he watched his father scramble for a necktie.

“Yeah yeah almost done son” Doyoung chuckled as he finally picked one out, “gotta look good for the last big dinner here.”

Jaemin leaned against the door frame as he watched his father spruce himself up. He actually never noticed how much his mood had changed since they had arrived. He was dressing nicer, he was smiling more and honestly just felt like his old self again.

Jaemin couldn’t stand that he knew the reason for his fathers happiness.

“Okay let’s head out!” Doyoung draped his arm over his son's shoulder as he met his wife at the entrance and they made their way over to the grand dinner party.

All the investors were there and it seemed like they kicked off the drinking festivities quite early as the restaurant was brimming with lively chatter and clinking of glasses. You decided that despite your sombre mood you’d still dress for the occasion and stepped out in a lacy Versace midi dress that you had been saving for the end of the trip.

“Hey y/n that milf hunter has been lookin- wow you look great!” Haechan’s eyes widened as he took a second to look at you.

“Thanks Haechan, who knew you’d be the least hated person on my trip this year” you nudged him playfully.

“Character development” he winked before realising what he came over for, “oh I was saying that Jae-“

“Hello y/n '' Jaehyun approached you in a Prada custom, you figured at this point he was probably sponsored since that's the only brand he wore the entire trip.

“Hi Jaehyun” you forced a smile as he gestured for you to take his arm. Your stomach churned as you watched him flash that gorgeous smile to all your fathers elite guests, all the older women gushing and giggling when he acknowledged their existence.

“What’s going on with your brother and y/n?” Chenle asked Sungchan who just shrugged as he was just as confused as the rest of them. Jaemin was especially confused. Could he have been wrong about the woman his father had seen ?

Doyoung was a bit distracted by all the guests but he managed to catch a little glimpse of you when you were being introduced to a board member by your father.

You looked breathtaking and he couldn’t wait to tell you that. He wished he could just steal you away just for a minute and have you all to himself. He wanted to pepper your skin with soft kisses and tell you how beautiful you were. He wanted to show you off to everyone here that you were his.

But Doyoung’s smile faded when he saw Jaehyun slip beside you and his hand was placed on the small of your back as he joined the conversation. Jaehyun was behaving differently. He was attached to your side and now he had the distaste of watching Jaehyun press his lips against your cheek.

“Whatever he is doing I am not involved” Doyoung snapped out of trance to Johnny's voice beside him. The taller man offered him a whiskey as they watched the scene from a distance.

“I thought you said he’s not interested in her,” Doyoung said as he winced at the taste of his whiskey.

“You know how these kids are” Johnny shrugged, “one day they’re fighting next day they’re fucking like rabbits.”

Doyoung shook his head at Johnny's crude words as he continued to observe the strange interaction. That was until Jaehyun had locked eyes with him and he sent him a wink.

God he knew.

“You told your nephew ?” Doyoung pulled Johnny aside who was still pretty much oblivious to everything that was unfolding.

“Told him what ?”

“What do you mean! You know what” Doyoung shot back the rest of his whiskey in frustration. “Johnny, did you tell your indecent moronic nephew about y/n and I ?”

Johnny thought about it for a second and then raised his hands in defence. “He must have overheard me on the phone or maybe I….mentioned it while I was drunk.”

“You’re unbelievable” Doyoung spat and shoved the glass into Johnny's hands before making his way out onto the terrace for a breath of fresh air.

Meanwhile you finally found an excuse to get away from Jaehyun who decided that his next target for the night was some film star from the 80s that he wanted as a mentor. You walked out into the courtyard and blew out a sigh of relief that you were finally free from that place.

“Y/n….”

You looked back and noticed Doyoung was making his way down from another exit, probably sick of this party as well. You were so happy to see him finally, he’s the only person you wanted to see tonight. Doyoung moved down a path that was dimly lit and away from anyone at the party and waited until you were able to make your way over to him.

“Doyoung” you practically ran into his arms as the two of you  embraced tightly under the moonlit sky. You didn’t want to let him go. Especially after everything that had happened earlier on.

“y/n what is going on?” He asked with concern as he studied your face.

“That bastard ugh” you cursed, “Jaehyun knows about us and now he’s blackmailing me into dating him for some film feature.”

Doyoung felt a burning sensation in his throat. Having someone like Jaehyun in on the secret meant it was done, it was over for everyone involved.

“Should I talk to him, what he says something after ? I could-“

“No” you replied, pressing your hands to his chest. “He made me sign an agreement that he wouldn’t say anything, as long as I do a few PR couple things for him.”

“This is my fault I should’ve never told Johnny I should’ve -“

“It’s not your fault” you cut him off again, “this relationship we have is complicated and after speaking with Jaehyun I realised that it’s going to be difficult regardless if he knew or not.”

Doyoung licked his lips as he figured what you were getting at. He never thought about how hard it would be to even start seeing you in your day to day life once he was a divorced man. Your father and him might ruin a good business relationship and opportunities for you could be removed based on what the public opinion would be.

“So this ends here then” he said defeatedly as he watched you fight back a few tears.

“I wish it could be different” you replied and looked up into his comforting eyes. Doyoung leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was sweet and soft, it reminded you of the one night you were able to sleep over and finally fall asleep in his arms.

It wasn’t long until the kiss became intense, and Doyoung had you up against the stone wall pressing his body against yours as he ravished you with kisses. There was absolutely no way the two of you could sneak off so you were okay to get whatever little time the two of you had left. Doyoung pushed up your dress in a hurry as you undid his pants and got into a position that would give him easy access in the short space of time. Groaning as he entered you, Doyoung pushed your hair to the side and left open mouth kisses along your neck and jawline as he pounded into you, a few feet from your father’s dinner party.

“Doyoung I can't hold on any longer” you panted as you chased your orgasm. Doyoung planted a soft kiss on your cheek before quickening his pace and his soft whispers made you weak at the knees.

“Baby i'm going to fill you up and don't you worry this won't be the last time, I promise” he grunted until he finally released inside of you and quickly grabbed hold of your waist to help your balance. That was probably one of the best orgasms of your life and you wondered if you’d ever feel something  like that ever again.

“Did you mean it ?” you asked in a soft voice as Doyoung helped you neaten up.

“That it won't be the last ?”

You nodded and he cupped your face with his large hands, smiling down at you.

“It's tough right now, but after things begin to settle we can try going on a little private vacation, just you and me” he promised with a kiss on your forehead, “look at it this way, being apart for a while will just build excitement to seeing each other again.”

You chuckled and nodded once more, softly embracing him before realising it was probably time to get back to the party. As you walked away you felt a lump develop in your throat because while his gesture was sweet, you honestly had no idea if you'd see him like this again. Doyoung shared your exact sentiments and only said what he said to give you a piece of mind.

He watched you walk off and decided to go in the opposite direction to use an alternate entrance when he noticed Jaemin had been sitting slumped on the terrace chair watching him make his way over.

“Son, what are you doing here?” Doyoung cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his pocket to appear less nervous.

“Where were you dad ?” Jaemin deadpanned.

“I was..I was just-”

“How long have you been seeing y/n ?” Jaemin looked up at him and Doyoung’s chest felt heavy as his son looked at him with such disgust in his eyes.

“Jaemin what are you talking-”

“Look,” Jaemin cut his father off, “I went to your hotel room and figured it out, I didn't tell anyone and I don't plan to because I don't want to be embarrassed.”

Doyoung sighed and it felt like his entire world just crashed once more. From being a shitty husband the last thing on earth he ever wanted to be was a shitty father. He was selfish because he was unhappy in his marriage but not once did he consider how Jaemin would feel if, when he found out.

“I'm so sorry Jaemin, I really am and don't worry it started and ended on this trip” Doyoung tried to reassure the boy. “I made a huge fucking mistake because-”

“You wanted out of your marriage” Jaemin sighed and Doyoung nodded with guilt. Jaemin chuckled bitterly and looked off into the distance. “What’s more annoying is that Ive never seen you happier you know, I just assumed it was being away from the office.”

Doyoung listened intently as Jaemin shared his sentiments. “I cant believe the reason you had to suffer and stay in this awful marriage was probably because of me” Jaemin frowned and looked back at his dad, “Of course I hate that it was y/n but dad please live for yourself, I can't stand this person you have become in the last few years.”

Jaemin’s words surprised Doyoung but he hated that he didn't want him to think that you were the sole purpose for his new found joy. Being free was the root of his happiness and being with someone like you made him feel free.

“Look son, firstly us staying together was our choice and I apologise that you felt guilty for my change in character, that is not your fault and never will be” Doyoung reassured him and placed his hand on Jaemin’s shoulder, “y/n have ended what we have and shes with…Jaehyun now, don't worry about it okay?”

Doyoung would rather use Jaehyun’s blackmail to avert all attention all together and in turn that part of the deal seems more realistic and eventually everybody is happy. Almost everyone.

Jaemin felt a sense of calm that the affair was over and that you were moving on. He obviously hated Jaehyun but it was better to bury all of this and for it to never be revisited ever again.

“Okay cool” Jaemin finally said, “God I hate this resort.”

“That makes two of us.”

Back at the party you were practically on autopilot, doing the rounds of small talk with all of your father’s guests to distract your mind from Doyoung. This was what being a socialite was all about. Your lives were a mess just like anybody else but the media could only show the good side of it. The lavish parties, the power couples, the perfect children with the perfect grades.

That's all it ever was and will ever be.

The next day all bags packed you had your father’s closest circle had a grand breakfast then gathered in the lobby for the last goodbye.

“What a time huh?” Johnny Suh bellowed as he shook your father’s hand, “next time at the Maldives resort ?”

Were not fishing your drunk body out of the ocean Johnny” your father quipped as the two of them laughed in unison. You said your goodbyes to Chenle whose father was already rushing them into their car.

“Mr Qian is a true airport dad” Haechan shook his head.

“What is he late for ? He literally owns a private jet” Sungchan added.

You smiled as Jaehyun came over, you really played up the fake girlfriend thing because you had no idea what the psychopath was capable of next.

“Aw look at you, so sad to see me go” Jaehyun pouted as he moved a strand of hair out of your face.

“Hmm so sad” you gritted your teeth as you pulled him into a hug that involved a cheeky pinch to his side which only made him laugh. Jaehyun pressed his lips to your cheek and slipped his hand down to your lower back.

“Be a good girl now and I’ll be seeing you in New York next week” Jaeyhun smirked and made his way out with Sungchan and his uncle.

Jaemin shuffled awkwardly as it was now just your family, his and Lee Haechan. He watched as you and his father paid each other no mind as if nothing has or ever happened between the two of you. Doyoung tipped an employee that loaded their car and waited until his family had finished their goodbyes.

“Oh please do come to the next vacation, it was a pleasure having you” your mom hugged the Kims before Mrs Kim, her son and Haechan jumped into the vehicle.

“Yes Doyoung don't you dare go off and work in solitude like you always do” your father gave him a firm handshake.

“We shall see what the future holds,” Doyoung smiled before coming over to you. He almost felt like a stranger again with the way he stood his distance and held out his hand to you.

“I hope when you're not too busy we can play golf again” He smiled and you felt your heart flutter.

“I’ll let you know when my schedule is free Mr Kim.”

The End

#nct127 smut #doyoung smut #jaehyun smut #doyoung angst #nct smut #nct angst #nct scenarios #kim doyoung fic #jeong jaehyun #na jaemin #kpop smut #kpop fic #nct fic #2jaeh

[kimthwariru]

Like the wind

pairing: Kim Taehyung x reader

genre: smut, enemies to lovers, angst, collage au, rich kid!Taehyung

warnings: slight mention of religion and god

check out chapter 1 here

Chapter 2: Tell me pretty lies, look me in the face

Hating someone feels disturbingly similar to being in love with them. Love and hate are related to each other in a complex manner;they are visceral. Your stomach twists at the thought of that person. Your blood rushes to your cheeks when someone mentions their name, the heart in your chest beats heavy and bright, nearly visible through your flesh and clothes. Every interaction spikes your blood with a dangerous kind of adrenaline, your body is barely under your control. You’re consumed, and it scares you.

That’s exactly how you felt about Kim Taehyung.

You can’t quite explain it, but even though you didn’t fancy him all too much, there was a part of you that wanted him near you. The mere mention of his name made your blood boil. Especially after that night.

You’d never felt this way about a person before. One minute you wanted to kill him the other you wanted to fuck him. Was there something wrong with you?

Out of all people, why him?

The thing that had been bothering you lately, the question that has been popping up in your head ever since that day;how did he feel about you?

He hasn’t contacted once. Not a single message, and you knew he could get your number if he wanted to, the thing is, he didn’t want to. If he wanted to communicate somehow, he would have, and that just confirms the thought that has been hiding in the back of your brain, too ashamed to come out because of how embarrassing it would be to admit to such a thing to yourself;that Taehyung only used you for his own pleasure. That he didn’t actually care about you, but only about what you did together. You were another victim that fell for him, and that frustrated you.

“Yo are you even listening to me?” Jin’s voice woke you up from your daydreaming. It was the first day of college, Jin was trying to explain accurately every professor’s background and personality. It was sweet of him to offer to help you out, but you didn’t really need it, especially since you were having an entire inner monologue about how much you fucked up things with Kim Taehyung before the semester even started. “Repeat what I just said” he ordered

“I’ve got to be honest…” you began, but before you could even come up with a poor excuse as to why you had been staring at the empty space for what was probably 15 minutes, Jin interrupted you.

“You weren’t even listening to me!” He whined

“Sorry, I have quite the busy mind” you chuckled and pushed his shoulder hoping he would brush this whole thing away and not ask any questions. “it’s almost 10, I’ve got to go”

•••

It almost felt like a dream when you took your first step into Hashfield college. You thought you were mentally prepared for what you were about to witness in this school, but you immediately felt your jaw drop when your gaze caught on a striking woman with . . . questionable style. She wore a mink shawl in September, over a thin olive-green dress, and thigh-high boots. Long blonde hair fell in smooth waves, and with her fake eyelashes and large hoop earrings, she was like an ad to the seventies era. And, as if she wasn’t doing her job well enough, she blew a pink bubble and popped it, her eyes narrowing on you like you were the one whose style was four decades too late.

Now, judging someone based on how they dressed for school was not a habit of yours, but the attitude she was wearing along with her outfit was definitely annoying you a bit.

Just by the way she made a grimace at a couple of girls that simply passed by her, minding their own business (an asset very rare for insiders) screamed what type of girl she was.

You know the kind, probably a cheerleader, or a leader in some kind of attention seeking club, popular, possibly had every jock wrapped around her fingers. These type of girls, they never leave high school, they never abandon that mindset, it stays with them. Mean, cavalier, superficial... The kind who doesn’t have a thought stay in her head too long or else she needs a nap. If polar opposites were ever in the same room, it was her and you, undoubtedly.

She was surrounded by 2 fit guys and a red head that was carrying a handbag that matched hers. If she was Regina George then that was definitely Gretchen Wieners.To your disappointment, you watched as a very familiar back approached them. Kim Taehyung. Of fucking course he hanged out with that type of crowd.

The fact that you had to walk passed them to get to your class seemed like a form of torture. You wish the earth would just open in two, and shallow you in. You felt your heart beat faster and faster, and you tried to move quickly to avoid them like they were a bunch of hyenas and you were a sheep whose survival instincts had kicked in. As if things couldn’t get any worse, just when you were about to surpass them, thinking you’ve succeeded in staying invisible and out of Taehyung’s sight, you hear a male voice calling your name

“Y/n!! Surprised you actually showed up. Hope this sight lasts” Jungkook’s voice made a bunch of slurs rush to your mind.

You hated the fact that your gaze immediately met Taehyung’s, as if it was reaching out to him, or even worse, searching for him. He stood there, simply wearing gray nike sweatpants and a white Celine t-shirt, yet you swear he looked a hundred times better than any model you’ve ever seen. He was larger than life in this hallway. Or maybe, this hall was just small? No, it looked like a normal-sized hallway. Ugh, get a grip.

“Hoped you’d chicken out last minute” Taehyung’s indifferent voice ran down your spine, with a strange thrill following in its wake. You’d never admit it, but you had strangely longed for the the alluring feeling his voice gave you.

“Glad that my presence made all of you so excited” you scoffed

“Excited is kind of overselling it, don’t you think?”Taehyung answered almost immediately.

“I’d argue differently” You gave him a look that conveyed;you were definitely excited when you went down on me the other night, Kim Taehyung.

The blonde girl pursed her lips in annoyance when all of the attention had shifted from her to you “Excuse me, who even are you?” She regarded you like someone would watch Animal Planet—like you were another species and possibly dull entertainment.

“I really need to get to class-” You could feel blood rushing to your cheeks when Jungkook’s elbow rested on your shoulder out of the blue.

All these years had passed since the last time you were this close to Jeon Jungkook, however his aura had remained the same. Cold, alarming yet somehow attractive. You caught a glimpse of Taehyung’s eyebrow raising slightly. Almost as if he was jealous “She’s Y/N” Jungkook said “The outsider”

The girl’s face light up in surprise, like she had just met someone from a different planet “Incredible” A judgmental eye look traveled carefully from top to bottom. Your insides were flaming in anger, what was she looking at? “Never seen one so up close before. You’re quite the talk these days.” A condescending smile painted her rich blonde girl face. “I mean an outsider!. In Hashfield? It’s wild”

You swallowed your pride knowing that arguing with these types of girls would only do you harm. You took one last look at Taehyung but the minute your eyes locked he turned his head to the side, as if he was embarrassed to even look at you.

Strange. You’ve never seen him like this before.

“As I was saying, I really need to get to class.” Your tone cold and indifferent, completely masking the wide range of emotions you were experiencing all at once.

•••

You never really understood the way that some people romanticized university life.

In movies and television shows, it’s all soft acoustic indie music playing over the image of some girl reading in a library, and an attractive mysterious guy gazing at her from afar, time seemed to have almost stopped as he was slowly falling in love with her.

Reality was far less idyllic.

Studying at the library was a battle between you and your attention span, the constant whispers exchanged between two annoying friends that weren’t aiding your situation at all, and the long ass paragraphs that became intelligible after four sentences, so you had to restart again from the beginning a few times before you read through the whole thing—still not understanding half of it nonetheless.

After what seemed like an hour of struggling to comprehend the difference between salve and salvete you realized Latin would probably be a bit more difficult than you had initially expected. You got up and paced towards one of the many enormous bookshelves to grab a book called “The modern guide to the not so modern Latin” this should help, you thought.

“You going to stand there and stare at that book all day, or are you going to move? Pretty sure just looking at it won’t win you any points anyway” the smooth, low, familiar voice that left Taehyung’s downturned mouth caught you off guard. You immediately jerked your head up to face him. Messy dark curls fell in his eyes accompanied with unexpectedly delicate features and cold, somewhat impatient gaze.

You blinked at him blankly, your stomach dipped like a tilt-a-whirl. You were finally alone with him for the first time after that night, and just as the smell of freshly baked sweet potatoes with turkey brought you back to a Christmas dinner with your mom and aunt, his cologne brought you back to when he was all over you, kissing your neck. “Pretty sure you’re not getting any extra points for being a pain in the ass either, but hey, look at you” you replied quickly, finding your tongue and only narrowly fighting back the annoyance that threatened to seep into your tone.

He replied by simply curling his lips up slightly, almost as if he was amused by your response. His eyes flickered up to the bookshelf as he peeled his attention from you, probably scanning for some kind of book ad you took a moment to admire his sharp jawline. When he’d finally spotted it, he took a step forward and as if you were the same poles of a magnet, you took one back. He chuckled at your obvious try to avoid him and extended his right hand to grab a book that was titled “Everything and nothing about the history of religion”

“Didn’t have you for a guy that would read this stuff, thought you said you lost God a long time ago”

You watched as he quirked a dark eyebrow “Guess you haven’t forgotten everything about me” He slipped one hand into his pocket as his gaze fell down your body “You know, there’s a lot of time to read in here, and I’ve read it all” he sighted “Talmud, Torah, Quran, Tae Te Ching” he smiled at you “Buddhism, Islam, Judaism, Jainism. Figured if I was looking for God, I should look everywhere.” He made a pause “Came out of that an atheist” he shrugged his shoulders

“Bet that’s a story” you said, gesturing to the book he was holding

“It is and it isn’t. I’m just in the middle of a project right now, besides, history behind religion was always more fascinating to me than the religion itself”

“Oh right, well, that sounds interesting, I’ll leave you to it then” Really? You couldn’t think of a less idiotic response? He just opened up about something clearly personal and you were too awkward to keep a normal conversation flow going? Embarrassed, you took a step to go around him and completely disappear—but, before you could, something grabbed your wrist.

He grabbed your wrist.

His grip felt like a band of fire; rough, calloused fire. A cool breath of fear mixed with something boiling hot leaked into your bloodstream. He stood only a few centimeters away from you, his grip the only thing connecting the two of you.

“Just so I know, are we going to pretend that night never happened?” his deep voice reached your ears

“What?” You breathed, your train of thought lost because of the hand wrapped around your wrist. It wasn’t a hard grip, but it was heavy, firm, immovable. It made you aware of how much smaller you were, how unnerved and out of place you felt. How you couldn’t leave unless he chose to release you.

He took a step closer as he watched you with an inquisitive gaze. Your heart felt close to stopping and your skin was burning up. “Are you going to pretend my dick wasn’t inside your mouth a few days ago?” he lowered his voice and you felt like you were about to pass out.

“I don’t know, are you going to pretend you weren’t in between my legs?” You managed to say and tried to pull your wrist away but he didn’t let you go.

Your pulse fluttered when his thumb brushed your knuckles. A smile painted all over his face like he had just done something he was proud of. “You know, if you want another round, all you have to do is ask”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” You said, breathing out an annoyed sigh as you brushed a piece of hair back from your face “Stop treating me like some girl that’s obsessed with you” you tried to free yourself from his grip “Let go!”

His gaze came back to your face, and you looked at each other for a moment. His grip slipped down your wrist, palm, fingers. The rough pads of his fingertips brushed your softer ones, and made your heart skip a beat. “I don't regret a single second I've spent with you, do you?”

What the hell? That was the last thing you expected to hear from his mouth and you didn’t know how you were supposed to respond. “Is this one of your sick jokes? Pretending to mean all these things when in reality all you want to see is how l’ll react? Because I’m tired of playing this game Taehyung, not this time, not with you.”

“No games” he pulled you even closer to his body “can’t you just listen to me?”

“I would if you talked to me. Do you know why I always need to have my guard up when it comes to you? Don’t you remember how embarrassed I was when you played that whole prank with Jungkook?” You pushed him away “Asshole, what makes you think it’s ok to play with people’s feelings like that?”

Two years ago. Jungkook was the only person you’d talk to, he was kind and seemed to like everything you did. The day after you’d confessed your feelings for him, you found out that the whole thing, Jungkook hanging out with you and pretending to like you, was a whole show Taehyung had put up. He’d made Jungkook do it. How dare he play with someone’s heart like that? What if all this was set up by him as well? You could never be too sure with him.

“Y/n, about that-“

“No. I’m done with you and your excuses. Just leave me alone” You cut him off “That night, I was drunk, and horny, and out of my head. Was it your dick I sucked? Sorry, can’t seem to remember that well, my memory is quite foggy” scorn laced your tone. You were done with him this time, you felt your blood boiling just by looking at him—and not in a good way.

“y/n come on-“

“You know, I really think that alcohol isn’t good or bad. But the version that can come out of me when I have enough to drink…yeah, she is bad. She’s careless and selfish and does things that I would never do sober.” Your tone monotonous, and your heart heavy as you know deep down that what you’re saying isn’t necessarily the truth. But you have to find a way in order to get away from Taehyung, he is bad for you, and you’re scared this whole thing is just another prank he carefully set up for you to fall in. But you knew better this time. “There is…a saboteur inside of me. she did everything that night, got it? And she left me to deal with the consequences of her actions.”

Taehyung pushed you with his body against a bookshelf. His right hand resting next to your head while you tried your best to control your breathing “You’re seriously going to pretend you didn’t love the way my tongue licked every inch of your skin?” His face centimeters away from yours as he stared at you dead in the eyes “The way you moaned my name?” He brought his right knee slightly up, just enough to push against your heat, providing the right amount of pressure to make your tummy tense up. How did he manage to have control over you yet once more? “The way you begged to eat my cum?” he breathed

“Stop…” your tone not very convincing, as you clearly didn’t want him to stop what he was doing. His mere knee was making you wetter than any other man ever did. And you hated him for that, you hated him for being the only one that made sucking someone’s dick enjoyable, so much you’d think about it every single night before you went to bed.

But love and hate seem to have an interesting relationship inside your head.

“Why are you putting on this whole show, when you feel the same things I do?” He placed his lips on the side of your neck, giving it a small and gentle kiss before facing you again “you smell amazing, you know that?”

The impact of his stare found a way to touch your skin. Again, a thing only he could do. The memory of him naked and exposed played on a loop, intense and hot, in your head. Just so you didn’t look like an intimidated little girl, you held his gaze for a breathless second.

Feel the same things I do?

What the hell did he mean by that? He wasn’t suggesting he actually viewed that night as something more than a meaningless hook up, was he? “I don’t have time for this, I need to get back to studying-“

“Studying, yeah” he jerked his head slightly backwards and sighted, and you couldn’t help but stare at his prominent Adam’s apple as it slowly moved. “Feels like I’m talking to a fucking wall sometimes” he took a step back

“I thought you loved walls” you smirked and distanced yourself from him “Next time, maybe don’t ghost me” you said with an indifferent voice, and maybe for a split second you wanted him to stop you one more time, grab you by your wrist and pull you in for a kiss, you closed your eyes and painted that picture in your head. But he never did.

It was for the best. Kim Taehyung was bad news, you knew how he treated girls, made them feel special and unique until he decided he was done with them. You were not going to allow yourself to fall for his little scheme. You caught a glimpse of his eyes, it was almost as if he was annoyed by you, as if you were the one who acted like a pretentious dick all the time.

You hated mornings

You couldn’t possibly describe how much.

Which was weird, considering dawn was your favorite part of the day, but the cold and empty feeling that you got when you first open your eyes is cruel and torturing. No matter how much you’d sleep, you would always feel tired when waking up.

Another reason why you hated mornings was because you had to get ready for Hashfield college. You had to find the right clothes and fix your hair and makeup. Not necessarily because you wanted to fit in but because that would make your day much easier. And it sounds dumb, but that was the case and you had to live with it.

There’s one thing you enjoyed about your dull mornings though, and that was the daily morning gossip call with Mina. She’d tell you everything that had happened last night and it would always make you even more jealous for the fact that you didn’t apply to a normal University outside of town instead of Hashfield. You could feel Mina’s excited voice. She was free. And you envied that.

“Ugh one thing I miss about Outfield is the coffee man, there’s just no competition”

“Uhh yeah sounds awful Mina you wanna switch places with me? Life sucks but at least coffee is bomb so I’d say it’s worth it right?”

Mina chuckled “I'll ignore your usual morning chipper and tell you all about the date I had last night”

You were always thankful for the distraction Mina provided every morning “I’m all ears”

“Okay, so” you could basically hear her smile through the phone “ "I was at the bar the other night and ran into this guy, his name's Beck, and we immediately hit it off, We talked for like, two hours afterwards, and he asked for my number. Few days ago he called and asked if I wanted to go out with him, and I was like hell yeah let's tear up the town. Guy picks me up at my apartment in this sleek ass car, and takes me out to this fancy pants restaurant, letting me order whatever I wanted, I mean this dude is loaded. Eventually I ask him what he does for a living, since he's got cash falling from the fuckin' sky. Apparently he works for the fucking Kim family? Isn’t it crazy how small the world is?”

“The Kim family!?” You repeated, it shouldn’t come as a surprise, the Kim business was booming the last decade, Taehyung’s father might be a shitty person but he is an awesome businessman.

“Y/n… you wanna know what’s even crazier?”

“Well I can’t say no now, can I?”

There was a small pause before Mina spoke again “He told me Kim Taehyung is going to be engaged soon.”

Words wouldn’t come out of your mouth.

You knew insiders were engaged early, basically, their parents wanted to secure business merges by having their kids engaged. It did good for business and insiders didn’t want to get married to outsiders in the first place, so it worked.

But Kim Taehyung? For some reason, you always thought he’d be a different case. He was known for his recklessness and not completely adhering to the rules inside the walls. He’d sleep with a lot of women, insiders and outsiders. He didn’t care about the gossip and he certainly didn’t care about what his daddy would say.

So yeah, in a way, hearing these news shocked you in more ways than one. “Are you sure? How would he know?”

“Talks around the office. You know how these things go y/n, if daddy says it then it’s law”

You hated mornings.

Perhaps, in hindsight, the fifth drink had been a mistake.

He isn't drunk, maybe tipsy, he hates to admit that he has grown a tolerance for alcohol. These many drinks into the evening, Taehyung’s short term memory wasn't up to its usual standards. Standing in the door of the bathroom, Taehyung thinks, 'Why am I in here?' It takes at least five seconds before he remembers that he wanted to pee , he's had five drinks and three glasses of water, and things are beginning to get urgent.

“Come ooooon we only have one fucking bathroom in this whole place” he listened to Jungkook’s stammering voice from the door. They had the same amount of alcohol but Jungkook was having a rougher time than him. Considering he apparently forgot there are two more restrooms downstairs.

Jerking his head back, letting his curls fall down, Taehyung thinks of you.

He wasn’t going to, he made a promise to himself to flick away this attraction he seemed to have for you. It wasn’t doing him any good and he knew things with you should remain platonic for your sake. He wasn’t a good guy, and he liked you enough as a person to keep a disntace before fucking everything up—like always.

Was it a week ago? He recalls that’s the last time he talked to you, in the library. Fuck, he could still smell your perfume in his nose as if you were there with him.

But you weren’t.

You were in that other party with Seokjin and Zed down at Clair’s. Taehyung wouldn’t step foot anywhere near Clair’s house, she was crazy for him and things hadn’t ended up the way she wanted so she made sure to make Taehyung’s life a living nightmare instead.

But right now, all Taehyung was thinking about was how much he wanted to punch the shit out of Zed. That dude was an A class asshole that wanted nothing but get his way in your pants. He knew you weren’t going to give it to him, you were smarter than half of the insiders he knew, but he couldn’t hold his worry back.

“Come ooooon dude I will fucking piss my pants”

Taehyung laughed at the sounds Jungkook was making. He finished his business and opened the door chuckling. “You know there are other bathrooms here buddy, right?”

“Whatever” Jungkook blurred before immediately letting loose of his pants. He didn’t even have the sense of mind to close the door behind him.

Jungkook was a good kid, very misunderstood by everyone. Granted, he was a massive dick to girls, but that’s just because he had his heart broken by his first love, and it’s been downhill ever since.

He was like a brother to Taehyung, he was there when Taehyung’s parents had split up, probably the darkest Taehyung had ever been. But Jungkook remained by his side through it all, and Taehyung knew he’d never meet a friend like Jungkook again.

Taehyung and Jungkook didn’t fight, ever. Except well , this one time.

They fought one time over you.

Jungkook had met you while hanging out with some weird crowds outside of the walls, and he seemed to grow a liking towards you. You had similar interests and hobbies despite the different worlds you two were living in, Taehyung had to bite the inside of his cheek every time Jungkook mentioned your name as if it had honey dripping all over it.

Taehyung loves Jungkook, but he knew he wasn’t good for you, so he decided to lie to you and spread the rumor that Jungkook liking you was a prank.

He was stupid for doing that, but he blames his young age and blinding jealousy for that. He still remembers how offended Jungkook got, but he got over the whole thing pretty quick, at least until he’d found his next victim.

Jungkook was a good kid, but he wasn’t good enough for you, no insider was, including himself.

“You’re kind of off today, Taehyung” Brianna wrapped a hand around his waist “Something on your mind?”

A lot of things he couldn’t talk about, especially with her “Nah, just tipsy I guess”

“Oh my god Bri” Tess laughed at her phone like she had just seen the funniest thing of her life “Isn’t that the new outsider girl? y/n, was her name? Was it?”

The mention of your name made Taehyung look at Tess’s phone screen. It was a video of you throwing up in a vase of flowers with the caption ‘Guess outsiders can’t handle alcohol that well’

“I give her another month before she drops out.” Brianna was as toneless as always “Why on earth would she think that mixing with Hashfield was a good idea? Outsiders are a joke, honestly”

“Why do you care, Brianna? It’s just college, who gives a fuck anyways?” Taehyung interrupted, not even bothering to mask how annoyed he was.

When Taehyung imagined what he wanted from life, getting engaged with Brianna was never on his list. It wasn’t even a thought that occurred, until his good-for-nothing ambitious father decided that the Arden family was doing massive numbers in sales. So what better way to merge businesses than to engage him to the Ice queen?

Jesus, his father was a lost case. Tae swore to himself that he’ll never go through with the deal. His plan was to finish Hashfield College as fast as possible and travel around the world, get far away from the fucking wall.

Brianna scoffed, as if she had just heard the most ridiculous thing in her damn life. “just College?” She eyed him “Taehyung, it’s Hashfield”

“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes so fucking much he thought he saw his brain for a second. People like Brianna were not to be reasoned with. “Me and Jungkook are heading to the after party.”

“The after party? I think you’ve had enough to drink already” She lectured him as if she was his goddamn mother, she wasn’t.

“Didn’t know thinking was one of your abilities, you keep surprising me” His tone was rougher than usual but he didn’t really care. Plus the O shaped face she just made was the most amusing thing she’d done all day today. “Cmon Jungkook, let’s go”

•••

If you could get an image stuck in your head forever, it would be Taehyung’s face when he saw you walking out of the bathroom giggling with Zed, heading to find the others downstairs.

Of course, nothing had happened with Zed, he just wanted some help throwing all that tequila out of his system because he drunk a little more than he could handle, which was not much to begin with.

But Kim Taehyung’s expression was painted in your mind. Almost as if he was ready to punch Zed in the face.

Whatever.

What was he doing here anyway? Last you heard, he was at some fancy party with his girlfriend—or should you say fiancé, Brianna.

You don’t remember the last time you actually locked eyes with him since that run-in at the library. During lectures, you’d pretend he wasn’t there, but that only made it worse because you ended up constantly thinking about him. His mere presence was a constant burden. Kim Taehyung was a demon, or the devil himself.

The ninth circle of hell was not in some deep bowel under the earth, it was right here, in front of Clair’s Olympic sized swimming pool. Taehyung removed his shirt and dived in with a couple girls following him soon after. His hair wet and all over the place, locks falling loosely in his eyes, his body shiny under the moonlight and that fucking smirk all over his face. How could a man look this attractive?

“Fucking hell” you hear Celine basically moan.

Yeah, everyone was starring at the half-naked prince of Hashfield. Including you, and he noticed. You hate that he caught you looking

You quickly averted your eyes back to your phone, you didn’t want to give Taehyung the satisfaction of starring at him. Especially now, that he was acting like he had you down already.

“Fuck he’s hot” Nessa’s mouth had more water than the pool itself.

“I know right?” Jess exhaled deeply “Imagine fucking that”

Imagine fucking that

You cursed all sorts in your brain. Of course everyone wanted him. What’s not to like? A mysterious bad boy image, money, the fame of half the world, and soon to be C.E.O of the Kim cooperation. He was THE shit, and the worst part about it;he knew it.

The way he’d glance at all the girls that were eyeing him up and down, he felt the stares and he was feeding off of them.

“Jess your jaw is hitting the ground” Jin teased and in response he got a slap on the shoulder.

Your eyes jumped back at the pool, only to catch Taehyung starring back at you, his eyebrow cocked up, his expression was like an invitation, a dirty one. He watched as you took a sip of your drink, not breaking eye contact for a split second. This had been the longest you had starred at him. His eyes pierced through your soul, and you burned so much that no amount of ice could cool you down.

The devil.

“What do you think about him? Kim Taehyung” Zed bumped your shoulder resulting in that eye contact to break.

“I don’t know. . . Arrogant dick sounds like a nice summary” you faked a smile.

Arrogant dick was one way to describe him, among other things you wouldn’t say out loud, ever.

Zed chuckled at that. “Yeah, I don’t like the dude much either. He’s too lost in his own little fantasy world his good daddy built for him”

Wow, ironic much? Considering that was the case for most people around them, including him.

“It’s not his fault his daddy got money” Defending Tae was not your intention, but that statement was true. Sure, his father was this Hashfield King everyone admired yet feared, but it wasn’t Taehyung’s fault he was born into his family.

“I guess…”

He guesses. As if Zed wasn’t a nepotism baby. Living in the shadow of his family’s wealth. Probably marrying another woman that did the same.

•••

If it was one thing you enjoyed doing in those good-for-nothing outsider parties, it was to stroll around the huge mansions they were held in.

So many rooms that looked more like museums or modern art galleries that no one took an interest in because they were too busy getting fucked up by the jacuzzi or had no taste for such things to begin with.

Your eyes caught an enormous half opened wooden door with golden details on the side. You enter the room to find out it was an office. The place was a perfect square with a blue, stylish couch, a mahogany desk with a couple chairs in front of it, a flat-screen TV, and a minibar.

The walls were concrete, but with the gold and blue oriental rug and nothing but one piece of artwork on the wall, the room was somehow warm and comfortable.

You studied the painting that sat behind a shiny piece of glass. Pastel colors and bold yet refined sweeps of a brush. You weren’t much of an artistic person like your mother, but you recognized the work. You’d watched a documentary about the downfall of modern art. That what we consider art today is a poor example of the talent and heart of art in the past.

“Got lost trying to find the bathroom again?” Taehyung’s voice made goosebumps run down your back.

How did you two always manage to end up in the same places? Manage to read the same books, enjoy the same movies, like the same music? “Stalker alert”

You turned around and met his face. A thick atmosphere hung in the air. “Don’t flatter yourself” he scoffed “I’m impressed that leach Zed isn’t here with you, I thought you two were a package deal” He downed his drink and paced around the room, his attention moving from your eyes to the painting behind you.

“I could say the same thing about you and Cruella de Vil”

He laughed at that. A soft laugh, the kind that could melt your heart. “I can’t tolerate Brianna for more than an hour honestly”

“You’re not that tolerable yourself either”

Taehyung remained silent. His gaze fixed on the only painting in the room. And all you wanted to do was touch him just to make sure he was actually there, and you weren’t dreaming.

You should’ve gotten out of that room the minute he got there. He was trouble, and it was best to stay away from him, but for some fucking reason you found yourself glued there, gazing at him as if he was god himself.

“The Cliff Walk at Pourville” he suddenly broke the silence.

“Didn’t take you for a guy who would have a soft spot for Monet”

He turned his head, his dark eyes found yours and for a moment you felt your head spinning. “My mama was a fan” Your stomach warmed at the deep way mama rolled off his lips. “She had good taste” He laughed quietly. A bitter note showed through, and he wiped his amusement away with a palm like he’d just realized what he’d done. “You know why she liked about The Cliff Walk at Pourville so fucking much?” He clicked his tongue “It looks like the beach surrounding the wall. She said if she could paint freedom, it would look like that” he tapped the painting with his finger sort of aggressively. “And now she is free and I’m left alone in this fucking cliff”

Was that anger in his tone? Or maybe disappointment…? You figure it was a cocktail of the two. For some reason, your heart broke. You knew how much he loved his mum, you haven’t heard any news about her. Kim Taehyung’s father was a mean and cruel man, but how cold does a mother have to be to leave behind her only son like that?

“Don’t you like it here?”

His eyes wondered around the room, almost as if they were avoiding you “I don’t know…I mean it’s Hashfield right? I should be on my knees thanking the fucking God that I get to live inside the wall.” He breathed “The Damn wall”

“I can’t figure you out. I thought you enjoyed all of this…”

His drunk gaze found yours.

And you swear you lost sensation in your legs. He was a statue, something out of this century, maybe he was a reincarnation of Achilles. Or maybe he was not human.

His lips were slightly apart and his eyes were almost sparkly under the light. He smiled and finished what was left of his drink “I’m afraid you will never figure me out”

You rolled your eyes. Even drunk and out of his head he remained stubborn and an annoying know-it-all. “Why not?” You returned the smile, weirdly amused by the fact that his nose had turned slightly red from all that booze.

“I’m a paradox” His eyes tried to fix on you for a minute but soon flattered “I want to be happy, but I think of things that make me sad. I’m lazy, yet ambitious. I don’t like myself but I also love who I am.” He took a long breath “I pretend I don’t care, when in reality I do. I crave attention, yet reject it when it comes my way. Im a conflicted contradiction. If I can’t figure myself out, there’s no way anyone else can”

At that point, every last piece of your armor disintegrated. You felt Taehyung was being genuine with you, for once. He told you something about himself. He let you inside a corner of his brain. There was no pretense, it was just you, him and the Monet painting behind you.

“You miss your mother?” A gulp in your throat, you couldn’t hold this question back.

He exhaled “Everyday”

“You know, I used to think that losing someone went hand in hand with losing a part of yourself. That losing a person close to you was like giving away a little bit of who you are every time you said goodbye. But that’s not always true. Some losses, some parting of ways, are essential for our personal growth. When we burn a bridge, we allow something new to grow from its ashes. Something that wouldn’t have gotten the chance to bloom otherwise. So most of the time loss actually goes hand in hand with a new beginning, a new chance, even if it takes us years to see the change and to realise that maybe it was for the best. With every person you lose, with everyone you willingly let go, you get to know a part of yourself that was hidden before.”

He looked at you carefully as he took the remaining steps towards you. His cologne pierced your nose and nerves played beneath your skin when instead of stopping he came closer, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer “You’re really something, you know that?”

You pretended this position didn’t effect you at all, but in reality your heart raced from the shock.

“Y/N..” You turned your head to look at him. your breath shallowed when you realized his lips were only inches from your own. His gaze was warm, seeing deeper beneath your skin with each second. “Why are you here?”

You frowned your brows “I just…I like snooping around these big houses, I’m not really used to them. Plus if I have to sit through one more insider small talk I will drown myself in the pool. By the way did you know this house has like six pools? how many do you even need-“

“I mean Hashfield. Why on earth would you come to this place? I know you hate it”

“You’re right” A deep breath “I never wanted to come to Hashfield. It was not this big dream everyone thinks I had.” You exhaled and took a sneak peak of the way he was looking at you. He made you feel like whatever you were about to say was of importance. And it was. “The biggest mistake I’ve ever made was thinking time didn’t exist for me. I was young and stupid and convinced time would bend to my will like reeds bend to the wind. I was going to be a high schooler forever, you know? I had no plans, no dream job, nothing. But for whatever reason, I was always good with school. My grades were always top of the class and my teachers constantly praised me. That’s when my mum recommended that I try out for Hashfield. She really believed in me. No one ever believed in me but she did.”

“You never told her you didn’t want to come here?” He asked, rightfully so.

“I kept the words that could change everything lodged under my tongue, too scared, too shy, too embarrassed to say them out loud. Because what should I tell her? That I’ll reject the greatest opportunity anyone could have? That all the hard work and support she gave me was for nothing?” You sighted “I was going to tell her, eventually, I was sure about it. I thought I could put it off for another week, at least. The week became a month. And then the acceptance letter came and it was too late…Time. I had ran out of time.”

The dim lighting made his eyes look like burnt gold. “I guess one good thing came out of that”

“What?” You asked, already knowing the answer in your head, but you wanted to hear it from him

“We met again”

“We met multiple times outside the walls before, you know”

“Yeah” a faint smile “but that was different” he made a pause “I was different”

Tension crept between the two of you, finding its way between your legs and settling there like a heavy weight. You found yourself thinking about so many things. You wanted to see what was beneath that white shirt. You wanted to know how much little effort it would take for him to hold you down. You wanted to put out this fire inside you that had been there since the last time he touched you. But then. The words escaped your mouth as if they had a mind of their own “I heard you are getting engaged”

His gaze found yours, and the gold blackened around the edges. Your pulse pirouetted to a strange dance. “You heard?” his voice darker than usual

“I’m surprised more people don’t know about it. You’re like a prince around here”

“That’s because it’s not official yet” he exhaled a deep breath “My father is in the midst of some big deal and apparently he wants me to be the seal of it.. He can go fuck himself. I’m not planning to be a pawn in his game.” The anger quickly turned into amusement as he saw your face “Why princess, you thought you had lost me forever?”

With his body pressed against yours, warming you from the inside out, the pull to lean in was a physical thing. A heavy tug, as if he was your center of gravity. You could taste his breath and feel his strong heartbeat.

How easy it would be; to bury your fingers in his hair, to run your hand along his jawline, to meet your mouth with his.

You knew it would be the best kiss you’d ever have.

But you manage to tame that urge. Almost as if the two sides inside of you were fighting and hopefully this time, reason was winning. “Will you let go of me?”

To be fair. You weren’t making much of an effort to free yourself from his grip.

“I don’t want to.”

You loved his voice and the way he said that.

What was wrong with you? “Let me go”

“You’re not very convincing”

“You’re a dick”

“You always say that”

“Cause it’s true”

“Well I guess I’m a dick with a very kissable mouth then”

You cringed at the memory of you admitting he has a kissable mouth. It was true, but he didn’t need to know that. “Remove your hands Kim Taehyung”

Just when he was about to open his mouth and say something -probably very annoying- his phone rang.

“You should take that, maybe it’s your fiancé”

He raised his eyebrow in annoyance and checked his phone. The name on the screen wrote ‘Jungkook’ and you felt your throat dry up from the memories that hit you.

Kim Taehyung was not a good person to you, why were you in his arms?

“It better be important Jungkook” he answered his phone.

KIM TAEHYUNG P.O.V

“Look man, I-I didn’t do it okay? I mean-I mean I did it’s just- I had a lot to drink and Jimin was teasing me, saying I was a pussy and too scared to do it”

He closed his eyes and exhaled.

This couldn’t be good.

“What happened Jungkook. Fucking spill it”

He stared as you reached for your phone in your back pocket. It had been vibrating for a while. Who was texting you so impatiently? Was it Zed? Seokjin?

“I told Zed about the bet. I told him that we made a bet and you won, that you’d slept with y/n. Look man I’m sorry I-“

Your expression turned cold when you read the text messages on your screen. “What the fuck!?” You yelled as you pushed your self away from him. Your eyes slowly turning up, meeting his own. He could tell whatever you read probably broke your heart right there and then

He had fucked up. Big time.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Kim Taehyung?”

Jungkook was continuing his rumble making a half assed apology when Taehyung hangs up the phone. Trying to calm you down “Y/n I’m sorry I didn’t-“

“I knew it…” Your expression was empty, almost cold, Taehyung had never seen you like this before. You were always bright and warm. You were the only person he felt comfortable around, but right now… he could barely look at you in the eyes. “I can’t believe I trusted you. Kim Taehyung. A fucking bet?” You basically growled “Over who gets to fuck me? You truly are your father’s son.” He could taste the bitterness out your mouth when you spat that.

“Y/n… I can explain… please” He needed to explain to you…what? That you were lovely and smart and better than anything he deserved? That he was twisted, crooked, wrong, but not so broken that he couldn’t pull himself together into some semblance of a man for you?. That without meaning to, he’d begun to lean on you, to look for you, to need you near.?

Would you even believe him if he did tell you that? He thinks not. And he deserves the way you’re looking at him right now. Like he was garbage, because maybe, he truly is his father’s son. “I’m sorry… you can’t imagine how sorry I am y/n…”

It didn’t matter how much he begged for forgiveness, that look in your eyes told him you were done with him for good. For every step he took toward you, you took two steps back. Every time he thought he’d made some sort of progress, that he’d finally gotten somewhat closer to you, you slipped away again, like a shadow, like the wind, like a ray of light, simply refusing to be captured.

To be continued. . .

taglist:

@nikkiordonez12 @travelleratheart101 @chr1sht @theaufanartist @tetesland @world-moon @ratedbangtann @chimchoom @pnkoo @taehyungedd @turnthepageandbeburnt @glitteryouid @jkbangtan7

Sorry for taking this long, cheers! Happy new year

#kim taehyung #kim taehyung smut #kim taehyung angst #kim taehyung boyfriend #kim taehyung fanfic #bts imagines #bts fan fic #bts fanfiction #bts taehyung fanfiction #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #kim taehyung scenarios #kim taehyung fluff #kim taehyung imagine #jungkook bts #jungkook fanfic #taekook #jungkook angst #kim taehyung wallpaper #Spotify #like the wind #taehyung x reader

[gingergari]

Hi!! (I'm sorry this is the third time I'm trying to send the ask, I think my wifi is fighting with me aksdasl) I love your Mareach babies! and the art you have of them :''v Also their names are perfect bc of all the meanings jsdskd I'd love to know more of them bc I too love twins whdjwhdw How are they when they grow up? Or even when they were still babies!

i’m so glad you like mela and pera! :^) (and dw, the internet’s been wonky here too)

on the backend of things i’ve used mela for a mareach kid for a few years but it’s only this year when i was actually like. designing her that i was like ‘they should have twins. something something runs in the family (on my dad’s side of the family his mom had twins and the twins also had twins) something something legendary star twin having twins’ so i trialed a few names (mainly arancia) before i settled on pera! :^)

i’ve been having the time of my life this semester (/s) so i really haven’t developed them very much unfortunately :( but that’s what asks are for! (so please send more if you’re curious!)

this is getting long so here’s a post cut

mela is the more excitable twin and comes up with a lot of ideas, but as they grew up she defaults more to pera to lead because she tends to execute them better and think of details mela would miss

though as kids pera would go along with whatever mela suggested bc she thought it was fun ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (mela was the one who proposed playing with fire, pera would probably just say ‘lets do it outside’)

i think they fully developed their own ‘firebrand’ around 3-4! but there were signs beforehand, like mela sneezing smoke as a baby and having a higher normal body temperature than pera

(but peach’s magic is so strong there was little doubt that her children would inherit her abilities, and they do end up doing so to some degree! fire just manifested early)

in terms of them as babies, they were definitely a handful but overall ‘good’ babies

once pera knew how to walk tho it was a wrap

very adventurous and loves pursuing knowledge no matter what it takes (nosy and persistent) meanwhile mela has that same curiosity but doesn’t really know what she wants. the happy hobby pursuer

we know mario has experience with younger children and babies (mallow, goombario if you squint a little, watt, yoshi kid, himself (PiT moment), olivia) and peach likely doesn’t have nearly as much but it’s still a different ball game when it’s your kid and two of them and being prince consort(? king? in my head he stayed prince consort but i like @istadris ‘s thing) but he does have a huge community so they do end up well traveled/being cared for and spoiled by many of mario’s companions, and especially so by luigi, peasley, and daisy

back to them being more grown up

mela is the oldest (and as such wears warm-reddish colors in accordance with my headcanon of mushroom world sibling pairs) so technically she’s first in line for the throne, but she doesn’t have as much of an interest in it and believes pera would be a better choice. pera (wears green tones) to her credit does show more interest so they may forgo tradition once more when the time comes but joint ruling was never out of the question

but they don’t have to worry about that for quite a while (but i think peach would do well to make sure both are prepared regardless because of her own experience)

as a pair they aren’t as joined together at the hip as mario and luigi were/are mostly because they didn’t grow up in an environment where mela or pera absolutely needed to protect the other (nor were they ever forcibly separated like the bros were in yoshis island) but they absolutely love each other and would be friends if they weren’t sisters

when they were little tho they were obviously fraternal and always wanted to look identical so they mostly dressed the same until they got to be maybe around 6-8? wide range ik but yeah

but i’m not entirely sure what the situation with bowser is like when they’re growing up but it isn’t as volatile as it currently is. the @justcallmerosey post with clementine giving me ideas tho👀

#gari draws #gari’s ocs #gari’s asks #oc: pera #oc: mela #nintendo #smb #mareach #fankid #(POINTING LOUDLY) MELA HAS ADHD #pera has a silver crown solely bc i established with their earrings that pera wears silver jewelry. thats it #her dress is sleeveless atm #and mela’s has the puffy sleeves of her mother #ish #but this was an off the cuff design nothing official #it always feels weird when i’m designing clothes for them cause like i dont want them to wear formalwear all the time but it also feels #weird for them to wear anything too casual #so stalemate #maybe i should stick with the baby drawings /j #atm they dont have a brooch but in my headcanon peach’s jewelry are all methods of dampening her magic/keeping it in check #she could rip you to shreds without them #and atm they dont necessarily need that (read: i don’t have a brooch design yet) #i mostly posted now bc i couldn’t edit the tags 🤡 #but ty for sending the ask! :^) #also these mfs take turns being the photogenic one /j

[theladybug]

27

Twenty-six was something borrowed.

She went by in a flash, yet she was also in slow motion. It didn’t feel like she was mine, as much as she was, and although everything about it was indeed mine, in a lot of ways it also wasn’t. 26 was her own analogy with her own language, who kept correcting—iterating—herself vigorously, so she wouldn’t be recorded entirely as a flaw, a bug, a glitch, or a hideous mess. 

Just recently I saw this Instagram Reel of a potter smashing and breaking her flawed products to turn them back into clay and recycle them into new pieces. While I do not dare to say that 26—I—was a flawed product myself, 26 was the year when a lot of things got really, really messy. 

A couple of (messy) examples: First of all, I thought I could write. Four semesters, ten unfinished drafts, maybe thirty-thousand words later, I realized writing is about both starting and finishing and all this time I’ve been only floating in the middle. Second, I thought I was smart and brave, especially being one of the few international ESL students, and also one of the only two Indonesians in the program, until I started taking classes with students who have spoken—and written—English their whole lives, who bring novel manuscripts and 30-page brilliant short stories to workshops, some of which have already been published here there everywhere, who win competitions and receive fellowships, who have taught in at least three different continents, who by default I deemed superior. With that, Smart and Brave silently exited the room. Dumb and Scared took their place instead. Lastly, I thought I knew what I wanted, had life half-figured and sort of planned out. Turns out I have only been half-living this whole time, with absolutely no idea what I’m doing and where I’m going, and meeting different people with different backgrounds and their different languages with their different, super supreme YouTube-podcast-book-meme references and their elaborate, sorted-out 10-year life plans, Notion-powered, Forbes30Under30-driven; made me grimace at my own life (obviously unsorted, unNotioned, unForbes), made me unwant what I had and want some things even harder. My dreams shape-shift. Some self-destruct, some become even more stubborn and pronounced. Either way, it ended up being too much. Too loud and too lonely. I ended up becoming one of those clay pots the potter smashed in her video. I broke. Too many times, at that.

-

Amidst all that fire in the house, as I am heavily self-trained to always find light in the darkness no matter how irrelevant and cringe such light can be, at 2:00 am as I cried myself to sleep I thought, what better place to be broken than New York, right? Wrong. Well at least I am in New York, right? Right, but also wrong. Despite only living here for two years-ish, I felt New York was too grand a stage for broken things. For battles I was bound to lose. For wars I wasn't prepared for. It’s too grand a stage for adult growing pains, which are basically aches everywhere in our body due to intense adulting activities (mostly the mental ones), where joy is something we pay in installments, yet horror and sadness are practically freebies. The real secret in @secretnyc Instagram page isn’t in what they tell us (10 tHiNGs yOu DoN’T wAnNa MiSs tHiS wEeKeNd), it’s in what they don’t: People bend in this city, but most of the times they break too. 

That being said, for the past seven, eight months, it has really taken a village for a day to start and to not suck, for the hours to go by without too much crying in between. In the first few months there wasn’t even a “village�� to begin with, for I was alone, lonely, busy succumbing. My world was shaken up and for a lot of different reasons. New York, once a jewelry box, became a death trap. I was floating but more like a sad balloon—airless and crinkled, certainly not the majestic, colorful, and dreamy-looking hot-air kind—sadly sticking to her day-to-day routine: write in the mornings, class til noon, study until dinner, naps in between. 

But as much as I tried, my normal routine alone didn’t even cut it—it felt unsafe and temporary. Some days I was lucky to make it to places, some others I would be walking out of my apartment just to straight up u-turn and run back home. My naps became longer (when my normal ones already last for two hours, minimum) and turned to something I dreaded, but at the same time everything else was a lot worse. Whatever good, normal day I pulled a muscle to have, it wore off as soon as I showered and crawled back to bed. At nights, rest was impossible, but when I finally did fall asleep, I slept with a large hole in my chest, which became a perfect site for a festival of bad dreams. 

-

So I resorted to sticking my routine to other people’s. That is how my life became something desperately borrowed: the long library hours, the brisk walks to the boba place, study sessions, the Friday getaways to Yale, last minute lunch and dinner dates, weekend hangouts, half-priced ballet and Broadway shows, ice skating. Surprise pastries that saved my lifeless, bedridden, five-kg-less ass because I couldn’t, wouldn’t, stomach anything else; shoulders on which I helplessly smeared snot all over; ears worn off from having to hear me scream and cry during phone calls or during long conversations over my dining table; iftars and suhoors turned into sleepovers. I borrowed distractions from these people, who willingly shared pieces of their lives with me, which I used to fill the large hole in my chest, hoping they could help rid it of the nightmares, however momentary. I owe so much to so many. 

And what did this tiny, little piece of self do? Other than succumbing? Skipping classes, missing her meals? Seeing the days go by from her bedroom window? Hating people on Instagram who seemed contained and composed, happy and unbothered? And back to hating herself even more? Well, it woke up, and at some point, it got up from bed. Two times, it showed up to her pilates sessions. It also sought therapy. If anything, it lived and held me. And it wrote to you, eventually.

And so, writing this, putting it here, containing this internal fiasco in a language and a shape is my attempt at making a peace offering to all sorts of life’s shenanigans that I have yet to face—an effort to upcycle life just like she does, Lady Pottery. That’s 26 to me. Still a quarter life crisis, just a remix. I remember the times where I prayed so hard—Ramadan 2019, for example, which perhaps was my peak shalihah moment, excuse this shameless self-claim, because I wanted grad school so bad—for the things I do have now. These days I’d call Ibu and we’d both cry on the phone (unsure who’s soothing who?), “Bapak and I prayed for all these things for you—your scholarship and your school—and these granted prayers come with tests for our patience and perseverance…” So there you go.

I once asked my older sister how many more times she cried like a monster after 26, because I was exhausted. She said only a couple more times, because afterwards, the cry is silent. I guess if I asked Lady Pottery how many more times she still has to do recycling, the smashing and the breaking, the answer would be about the same. 

So. Twenty-seven. Let’s go for a spin.

#personal #self

[sagemonsters]

Heyo! It’s been a hot second since I’ve posted about any writing activity in my life—the end of my university semester + some familial troubles has really kept me away from my drafts—BUT I’m getting back into the swing of things! I have a new WIP that I’m hoping to finish the second draft of before my autumn semester starts on August 22nd.

The WIP doesn’t have a title for now, but is best described as “Dungeons & Dragons meets Indiana Jones meets monster romance” and is a cis male centaur x AMAB nonbinary human/elf hybrid romance novella. I’m hoping to publish it on Kindle and/or Smashwords once I’ve finished the draft and made all necessary edits.

The story takes place in a high fantasy setting inspired by the pre-Islamic Middle East and northern Africa. If I may gush… the setting itself is what made me fall in love with the story. I’ve been listening to the Fall of Civilizations YouTube channel and really vibing with the episode about the Nabatean civilization + looking at some stunning photography of the real-world Namib Desert along the west coast of southern Africa.

The first draft of this nameless WIP was set in a generic kitchen sink fantasy universe in the standard western European flavor, and I really didn’t click with it; even adding my favorite biome (temperate rainforest) as the backdrop for an important location didn’t make me have fun with what I was writing. However, once I changed the setting to something more geographically & culturally distinct, I started to enjoy it a lot more.

But characters are important too!

Taji Seventhborn is a linquist-mage who specializes in translating a variety of ancient languages into a variety of contemporary ones. They’re newly graduated from a thaumaturgic university in the (ofc fictional) city of Al-Darabous, and struggle with a mild anxiety disorder. Taji is the POV character for the entire novella.

I used the Baydews 2.0 picrew to make a portrait of them, which I’m not 100% happy with because it makes Taji look 14 rather than their actual age of 24. However, it’s still nice to have a visual representation of the character.

Cimitrius Firefoot is the centaur character and love interest. He’s a little older than Taji at 27 and is a warrior rather than a mage. He leads a band of adventurers, and was contracted by Lord Sindiso (along with Taji; that's how they meet) to guard an expedition searching for an ancient temple somewhere among the ghost-wracked dunes of Tindaalo Desert.

Excerpt below the cut!

Taji took a deep breath and looked around the Square. Even though dawn had not yet broken, there were plenty of people about. Veiled women filled pitchers with water from the fountain, their bangles tinkling as they moved, and the first wagons were being admitted through the massive, studded ironwood doors of the Victory Gate on their way to the marketplace. Shutters were being opened in the windows of the tenement buildings that flanked the Square, and street vendors pulled their hand-carts into position in preparation for hawking food, drinks, trinkets, and everything else under the sun. Another busy day was getting ready to dawn in Al-Darabous, and—for the first time—Taji would be leaving it all behind.

Their nerves jangled like the delicate silver chains that the Emperor’s court dancers tied into their braids. They scanned the two major thoroughfares that fed into the Square over and over, shifting their weight from food to foot as time wore on. The gray dawnlight blushed into the full brilliance of morning, and a cacophony of bells tolled in the high white towers to mark the occasion. Taji pulled the papyrus letter out of their pocket and read the last lines for what might have been the thirtieth time:

Prepare and outfit yourself for a long journey through the desert, and meet us in the Square of the Leaping Gazelle before sunrise on the seventh day of Firefall.

#sage speaks #writeblr #writing wip #monster romance #original fiction

[mirisss]

The Day I Ran Into You

ONF Hyojin & Seungjun x gn! reader

Wordcount ≈ 1.2k

Warnings: Feeling left out, anxiety, having trouble making friends, I think that’s it. 

Thank you so much for the request, Leo! I hope you enjoy it!

Third Person POV

When (Y/n) got the news that they would be moving to Korea to study, they were very excited. A new adventure with millions of possibilities waiting for them. (Y/n) packed their bags as soon as they knew when they were leaving. (Y/n) had fixed a small apartment that wasn’t too close to the university nor was it too far away, it was a bit expensive but (Y/n) also found a job so it would be fine. (Y/n) was looking forward to meeting new friends and exploring a new city. 

However, even though (Y/n) had done everything they could to prepare for this trip, they couldn’t stop their anxiety from ruining the experience. It turns out that making friends was way harder than (Y/n) had expected, throughout the first week of university, they hadn’t met a single person to hang out with. It seemed like everyone had already found their cliques, everyone but (Y/n). 

The apartment might have been small but during the night as (Y/n) was feeling lonely, it seemed so vast. The walls span across the country, the roof nowhere in sight, the small night light only illuminating the shadows that dwell around the room. 

During the start of the second week, (Y/n) was ready to give up, they were ready to pack up their things and return home. That was until they met two boys who finally made the anxiety shrink from a raging storm to a gentle breeze. 

It was during lunchtime on Tuesday that (Y/n) ran into a guy with bright red hair, he was dressed in a dark green hoodie and ripped jeans. The guy was coming around a corner and (Y/n) didn’t see him so they ran right into each other, fortunately, it wasn’t more than a bump so no one got hurt. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” The guy stopped and gave (Y/n) a bright smile while also looking them up and down to see if he caused any injuries or anything. “Um, no, no, um, yes, I’m okay, sorry for running into you,” “It’s fine! It was my fault too. My name is Hyojin! I’m an Astronomy student,” Hyojin reached out his hand for (Y/n) to shake, still a friendly and bright smile on his lips. (Y/n) reached out and took his hand, giving it a gentle shake. “Hi, my name is (Y/n), I’m a (subject) student,” “Are you a first-year student?” “Yeah,” (Y/n) felt a bit nervous to stand there and talk to Hyojin but he was very friendly and his aura calmed her nerves. “I’m in the second year, OH SEUNGJUN! Hey,” Suddenly Hyojin saw someone behind (Y/n) and he began shouting and waving to catch the person's attention. (Y/n) turned around and saw another guy who waved back as he jogged over to where Hyojin and they were standing. 

“This is Seungjun, Seungjun this is (Y/n),” “Hello, nice to meet you!” “Hi,” “Sorry, I got caught up with (Y/n) so I forgot we were meeting for lunch, about that, am I keeping you from meeting up with your friends?” “No, not really, I kind of don’t have anyone to eat lunch with,” “Just today or always?” Seungjun asked, his eyes sparkled warmly. “Ya, you can’t just ask them that,” “It’s okay, um I guess always because well I’ve had a hard time finding friends here,” “Are you an exchange student?” “Um kind of, well, I’m not from Korea originally or anything but I’m enrolled for the entire program so not just one semester or so,” “Woah that’s so cool, I don’t think I’d have it in me to move to another country to study, not alone at least,” Seungjun said. The two boys were very easy to speak with, their energy made (Y/n) open up more too, daring to actually speak and show some of their personality. 

“Hey, so um, lunch is almost over now, hehe, seems like we all will have to skip it from talking too much. Anyways, Hyojin and I usually have a little picnic on Thursdays after our classes, because some weeks we don’t have time to meet up before that so it’s sort of mandatory for us to do it. Wanna join us this Thursday? It was so nice talking with you so I’d at least love to get to know you more!” “I’d like that too, so what do you say?” (Y/n) took a deep breath, they never thought that them running into a guy with bright red hair could lead to friendship. “Yes, I’d love too,” “Give me your number, I’ll text you the details of when and where and what you should bring!” “Okay!” Hyojin handed (Y/n) his phone and let them add their contact to it. “See ya on Thursday if we don’t run into each other before then!” “Bye,” 

Thursday rolled around and classes were over, (Y/n) was at a convenience store to get some drinks for them and the two boys as (Y/n) had been tasked with bringing drinks. (Y/n) was feeling excited to meet with the two nice boys once again, they thought they’d be nervous but they weren’t, probably because Hyojin and Seungjun had been so nice and welcoming. After buying some different drinks, (Y/n) began walking over to the location Hyojin had sent. When they got their, they searched for the bright red hair but couldn’t find it, (Y/n) felt sad, had they been played? Had the boys just been fooling around? That was until they heard two voices shouting their name. 

“(Y/n)! Over here!” They turned a bit to the left and saw two boys jumping and waving their arms around as they shouted (Y/n)’s name. Hyojin no longer had bright red hair but now he had a light blonde color. “Hey, I was trying to look for you by your hair color but you changed it,” “Yeah, I got tired of the red, also my teachers didn’t appreciate it, said it was distracting,” As he said distracting he made a funny expression and used a mocking tone, making his two friends laugh. “Well, the red looked good on you but so does the blonde,” “Thanks, (Y/n)!” 

And so the three sat in a park, talking about their lives both before meeting and the most recent days, (Y/n) didn’t feel like an outsider or like they had just met the two boys two days ago, no (Y/n) felt like they had known each other their entire lives. Finally, they could enjoy this adventure. Finally, that small apartment wasn’t vast and lonely, no it was slowly getting filled with happy memories, photos, trinkets, and moments from hanging out with the two guys. And Thursday picnics were no longer just a Hyojin and Seungjun thing, it was now a Hyojin, Seungjun, and (Y/n) thing.

#onf #onf hyojin #onf fluff #onf j-us #ONF Imagines #onf scenarios #onf fanfic #onf x reader #onf hyojin x reader #onf oneshots #onf x gn reader #gn reader #hyojin x reader #j-us x reader #seungjun x reader #onf seungjun #platonic #mirisss #leo #onf request

[tennessoui]

"I'm not wearing that" for the prompt game?

hello :D this is the third and i think final "i'm not wearing that" prompt!! this is set in the TA au--professor skywalker fills in for professor koon's lessons for a semester as koon takes paternity leave. obi-wan had been chosen to TA koon's classes. that's what he'd mentally prepared for. he had under no circumstances prepared for TAing for Professor Skywalker. But at least Professor Skywalker also was not prepared at all for having a cute little TA like obi-wan kenobi either.

(1.2k) (just a hint of NSFW) (set about a year after they get together)

(references this snippet a few times)

Obi-Wan’s first instinct is to laugh. “I’m not wearing that.”

Quinlan Vos raises a very unimpressed eyebrow. “Yes, you are. I already took the tag off. I can’t return it now! And I paid good money for it. Real people money, Obi-Wan.”

“I’m not responsible for your poor spending choices,” Obi-Wan replies, crossing his arms over his chest. “You can’t guilt me into wearing that.”

Quin smirks, raising his other eyebrow as well. “I don’t know about that.”

“Impossible,” Obi-Wan reiterates, turning away and back to his phone. He’d been in the middle of texting Anakin, and his boyfriend doesn’t like being ignored for long. 

“Remember last Halloween?” Quin asks. “When you lied to me and ditched me in order to flirt with your professor while I, clueless and innocent, cheered you on from the sidelines?”

Obi-Wan flushes and refuses to look up. “Be that as it may—”

“Remember when you apologized? And told me that you ‘owed me one’?”

“I do not remember that,” Obi-Wan protests, because he knows where this is going. He sits up on Quin’s couch and glares at him. “Like I would ever leave you with an open-ended promise like that. I’ve known you way too long.”

“Ah, but I’ve known you just as long,” Quin wags his finger, and before Obi-Wan can tell him that yes, he has, that’s sort of how these things work, he has pulled a crumpled napkin from his pocket. “I got you drunk and made you write it down so you couldn’t renege on your promise.”

Obi-Wan jumps to his feet and grabs the napkin out of his hand to look at it. He has absolutely no memory of this. “I have absolutely no memory of this.”

“It was the night I took you out and you spent the whole time talking about your super hot professor and whining about how in love with him you were,” Quin says helpfully. “Don’t worry, I only took one video.”

“You—”

“But the important thing is,” Quin emphasizes, waving the napkin around. “You were very quite sorry for tricking your best friend so very cruelly. And now, you owe me one. And I’ve decided what I want from you.”

“No way, come on Quin,” Obi-Wan says. He wishes he could go back to freshman year and tell his younger self to absolutely not engage with Quinlan Vos at all. He can’t believe Quin had kept that bar napkin for almost an entire year, but at the same time he absolutely can. “Can I just give you a blow job instead?”

“Now, now, Obi-Wan. That would be in complete violation of B—”

“Yes, yes, fuck you, yes, the Best Friends Forever No Below The Belt Touching. I remember.”

“And I’d have to tell your professor boyfriend. Who would totally, like. Fail me.”

Obi-Wan puts his head in his hands. “He doesn’t even teach at our school anymore, you know that. You make it sound worse than it is.”

“Of course I do, you made out with your professor while TAing for his class. And then you told me about it. That’s like. The worst thing I’ve ever seen you do. I’m going to relish in it for years. I will never let it go, even if you and your professor boyfriend break up.”

Anakin has been not so subtly hinting at marriage, actually, but Obi-Wan decidedly does not want to tell Quin that.

“The idea of wearing that costume out in public for Halloweekend makes me genuinely uncomfortable, and as my friend I want you to respect that boundary,” he tries, pouting for emphasis.

Quinlan narrows his eyes at him consideringly, before snapping his fingers and grinning at him. “Damn, that was convincing. Almost had me for a second! But nope. You’re wearing this, and you better hurry up and shave for the part, we need to go soon. I left razor and cream on the counter for you.”

Blast.

With a filthy look in Quin’s direction, he snatches the costume from his hands and storms into the bathroom, slamming the door as loudly as he can behind him.

Are you sure you can’t make it up for Halloween? He texts Anakin while he’s waiting for the water to warm up. 

It’s a three hour drive, baby. Anakin responds. Why?

Vos is making me go out and dress up :( he types with one hand as he sits on the edge of the tub and wets his left leg.

I hope not in the Red Riding Hood number, Anakin replies. Don’t know much I like the idea of you wearing that again when I don’t get to see it.

Not the red riding hood outfit, Obi-Wan confirms. 

What is it this time? Sexy nurse? Sexy bunny?

Slutty schoolgirl :( 

Anakin does not respond. Obi-Wan shaves the entirety of his leg before he decides he should probably make sure Anakin hasn’t keeled over and died from a nosebleed or something.

I don’t want to, he texts, putting the razor down. But I owe him one and he turned down a blowjob. 

His phone starts ringing.

He picks up with a laugh. Anakin really can be so very predictable. “Hi professor,” he says in his sultriest voice.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin bites out. His tone is low and sort of dangerous. Obi-Wan likes it. “What are you doing?”

“Getting into the part,” he replies, carefully rubbing the shaving cream into his other leg.

“By offering your friends blowjobs, baby?” There’s the slam of a door and some noise Obi-Wan can’t identify. 

“Isn’t that what slutty schoolgirls do, professor?” Obi-Wan teases in that same voice. “Suck cock to get out of doing things they don’t want to do?”

“Obi-Wan.” 

Finally, Obi-Wan laughs again, dropping the act. “I was only joking, Anakin, no need to pull out the dom voice, lover.”

“Hm,” is all Anakin says on the other end of the line.

“I am shaving though,” Obi-Wan tells him. “Mostly because the skirt is very short, and if my thighs are too hairy my skin will get all irritated when they rub together. I guess the costume comes with high stockings, but they’re also pre-torn. So. No protection.” Obi-Wan smirks at nothing and adds slyly, “Just how I like it. Do you have any plans for the night, professor?”

“Just made some,” Anakin replies in that same dark voice that makes Obi-Wan’s stomach squirm and jump and twist. That background noise comes again, and this time Obi-Wan recognizes it. The jangling of keys. “Now will you be good and keep those smooth legs closed until I get there?”

Obi-Wan’s mouth falls open, and his heart leaps up at the—the implication. Anakin is coming. He’ll get to see Anakin soon. 

“Baby?” Anakin says pointedly.

“Yeah,” Obi-Wan breathes. “Um. Of course. Are you really—you’re really coming up here?”

The roar of Anakin’s motorcycle is all he gets in reply. But it’s all he needs, really.

#asks #prompt fill #obikin #TA au #obi-wan probably comes out from the bathroom all dressed up and ready to go and very excited #and vos is like 'yay! :D can't wait to spend tonight just kenobi and vos like the good ol days!!!' #and obi-wan internally is like 'i could tell him but i will not' #so he's like 'yep <3' and they go to the same bar from the first snippet of the ta au #and a few hours later anakin arrives #and vos is signficantly less happy about that #but obi-wan is already halfway to his older hot professor boyfriend #and he's like 'sorry vos!! i owe you!!' #and vos is like >:(

[umichenginabroad]

Madrid Week 5: I been in the kitchen, whippin, whippin (cheffin?)

Holaaaa a todxs otra vez! Niko back here with week 5 of the Madrid blog, sorry that I’m a day late :). This week’s blog will have less to do with Madrid/Spain/Europe/culture, and more to do with a little personal project of mine while abroad: learning how to cook (well).

I’ve always had cooking as a part of my life, and that’s thanks to my Mom, who always made the most delicious meals growing up from all sorts of cuisines. On a typical Sunday evening, my Mom would pick a recipe — either something new, or a family classic — and enlist me and my sister’s help in preparing it for the whole family. I learned a good amount this way: how to dice an onion, how to chop an onion into slivers, how to caramelize an onion… along with various other skills that don’t have anything to do with onions.

In high school, right before COVID hit, I decided to teach myself how to bake bread. It seemed like a kind of impossible task, of sorts — something that only professional bakers who woke up at 5am knew how do to, or grandmas who somehow always had the skill. I don’t remember how my first loaf turned out, but I’m guessing it was just good enough, because I found a new passion in baking from that point onward. I kept challenging myself to go for more complicated pastries, culminating in my proudest buttery achievement: a 3 day baking marathon that yielded some perfectly flaky homemade croissants.

In baking, I found joy in the precise imprecision of it all. 

Many people I know have told me that they see baking is a science; All of the ratios have to be perfect; There’s no room for error. While it’s true that if you add too much flour you’ll dry out your dough, or if you overload on the butter you’ll end up with a crispy puddle instead of a cookie (that also destroys your baking sheet) (speaking from firsthand experience), the more I practiced, the more I was able to bake using feeling and intuition instead of trusting a recipe. I could tell what dough felt like when it needed a little more kneading, or what it looked like when it had risen just enough. Through baking traditional Greek breads and desserts, I also found a new avenue for connection to my heritage. The gratification I received when I got a delicious final product — and one that I could share with family and friends — was all that I needed to continue having fun with the hobby.

Now, flash forward a few years, I’m a freshman in college. I’m in a dorm (Bursley T_T ), no kitchen access in sight, and eating exclusively in dining halls. Baking fell to the wayside, aside from the casual holiday cookie produced during breaks. Flash forward another year, I’ve got an apartment with a very functional kitchen — but now I’ve overloaded myself with classes and other extracurriculars, bought a dining plan, and treated mealtimes as activities to be completed as efficiently as possible so that they wouldn’t interfere with everything else I had to do in a day.

Needless to say, I wasn’t doing much baking, and the same was true with cooking — once a week I’d maybe make some dry chicken breast in a pan with some crudely chopped red bell peppers and call it a night. Last semester, fall of Junior year, at the peak of my business with school and extracurricular responsibility, I found myself in the kitchen even less.

I was satisfied with this rhythm. I enjoyed dining hall food for the most part (much to the surprise of most friends), and I really was saving time that I spent on other things. However, part of me looked at friends that were regularly home-cooking delicious, healthy meals for themselves (or for their entire co-op) and felt a pang of jealousy. Mealtime can be a sacred ritual for connection — both with yourself and with others — if you want it to be, and that was something I wanted to be able to foster.

The turning point in this cooking journey revolved around Monday night game night, the CFB championships, Michigan vs Washington. My cousin had invited me and my sister over to watch the game, with the promise that he would chef us some of his world famous confit chicken wings. My cousin is probably one of the best freehand chefs that I personally know. If you give this man some simple ingredients and a couple of spices, he’ll pull out some random cooking technique I thought only existed in high end French bistros and make some truly creative — and delicious — food, based solely on his experience and earned intuition. I think of him and flavors kind of like Remy from Ratatouille with the cheese and the strawberry, y’all know what I’m talking about.

This was the type of cooking that I had always sought after but never figured I was capable of without going to culinary school. Impressive, but something that only professional chefs who woke up at 5am knew how to do, or grandmas who just always had the skill…

Before leaving my cousin’s house (and after Michigan had won the natty 😎), I asked him how he learned to cook freehand so well. He told me that, although he had always been around cooking in his family, his skills truly blossomed when he was abroad in London for a year — when he was forced to cook for himself. He mastered simple dishes, without using recipes — pan seared chicken breast, roasted vegetables — which served as a launching pad to trying more and more complicated dishes, each time committing the cooking experience (and result) to memory and drawing upon it for the next plate.

So, flash forward to present day. Essentially, I said “Bet.”

I’ve got a bunch more time now that I’m abroad, and groceries here are significantly cheaper — meaning I can get more ingredients at a higher quality and set aside a few hours to truly explore. The first week or two, I was pretty much just doing chicken and red bell peppers, and maybe some rice. But since then, I’ve started exploring a little more — risotto, Bolognese, spatchcock chicken, basted steak — and the process has been incredibly enjoyable. I can feel some sense of intuition forming, and I find myself relying on recipes less and less with each meal cooked — having my baking experience as a backdrop gives me confidence that I'm on the right path.

dishes from my first week or two cooking freehand

Those that know me well know that I find a lot of pleasure in learning a new skill. To be honest, I do a lot of random stuff that doesn't really have much of a common thread, which is why I’m somewhat of a “Jack of All Trades, Master of None”. Cooking freehand is the newest addition to that list of random skills, but I think it’s one that’s here to stay. Not only is it fun and delicious, but incredibly utilitarian. 

In the words of my cousin: “It means you’ll never have to eat bad food... Not everyone wants your homemade candles or scarves, but everyone can f*ck up a home cooked meal.” 

Facts.

The biggest item on my food to-cook list is to make Avgolemono soup with homemade chicken broth, which is a Greek soup dish that holds a special place in my heart — one that my grandma made all the time. Stay tuned for the results in a future blog. Per usual, check out the image descriptions for a little inside scoop on the meals I've cooked so far.

In other news this week, I saw one of my favorite DJs Interplanetary Criminal, continued on with classes, and some friends from Arlington VA, my hometown, visited for the weekend from their other study-abroad-cities in Europe (including Emma, who's house I stayed at in Granada!).

See you all again next week!

Hasta ahora,

Niko Economos

Aerospace Engineering

Universidad Carlos III de Madrid

Madrid, Spain

#UmichEnginAbroad #IPEUC3M #NikoEconomos #IPEWinter24 #Spain

[desert-hobbit]

I am a notorious stoner. Smelling a little like weed has been something I’ve just come to terms with. I could give a lot of reasons I smoke weed, but none of them really seems to matter right now. I was sitting down for one last hit of my pipe, looking at the clock on my computer and knowing I was running behind.

I have office hours at 12:30pm, but I like to get there half an hour earlier. Wednesdays are my long days. I have my office hours, then a three-hour class right after, and I like a little time to get my own assignments done. That was the plan, after all. Get to my office hours with my head a little in the clouds, finish the presentation I had due that night, and get ready for the end of the semester. A little weed before I head to my office hours keeps me level-headed. I walk from my campus apartment to my campus office, and during the ten-minute walk, my head usually clears up, and I feel prepared for my day.

I was just ten minutes behind. Usually, around 11:45am, I’d be walking in the middle of campus. I wanted to get to campus a little earlier that day, since I use the student pharmacy to fill my medications. I was running out of one, so I needed to stop by before I made my way to my office. I cursed at myself for being late, for giving in to that stoner-desire to just sit and have another hit before walking out the door. I had a student who wanted to stop by my office hours to discuss something from class, and I didn’t want to be late in case she stopped by at the beginning of my office hours. Even so, I was running late.

Just as I was standing up to grab my backpack and head out the door, I got a text on my phone.

UPDSouth – UNLV

UPD Alert – UNLV

University Police responding to report of shots fired in BEH evacuate to a safe area, RUN-HIDE-FIGHT.

And I shook. It was instant. As soon as I read those words, my body went cold, and I was trembling. I collapsed back into my chair, not entirely believing what was happening. That was 11:52am. A few minutes later, at 11:57am, I got the same text again. It was real. I should have been walking to my office, but I was quaking in my bedroom. BEH is not a far walk from my apartment. I live on campus to make my life easier, after all. Walking to class is a lot easier than driving. The convenience has always been the highlight of living on campus, but suddenly I felt like I wanted to be anywhere but there.

Would the shooter be on the move? Would they head towards the dorms, or would they head towards my side of campus? I texted my professor first, asking if she was on campus. Then I brought up the group chat I have with other students in my department. Frantically, I ask who is on campus. Several of them were, some were off campus. Everyone was sheltering in place.

I cried. Knowing my friends were closer to the danger than I was, knowing they were scared and barricaded in offices, I cried. Knowing my professor, a woman who has mentored me since I first came to UNLV, was locked in a classroom made my stomach churn. We had no information; we knew nothing. All we could do was send texts back and forth, everyone checking on everyone we know.

I was getting texts from friends around town. My psychiatrist checked on me. I had to send that text nobody wants to send to their parents. There is an active shooter. I am alive and I am safe. What did my mom and dad feel when they saw that? Were they holding it together for me? When I called my mother, she simply reassured me I was safe, that I was not in danger. But my whole body, my brain, was telling me I was. I may not have been in the thick of the shooting, but I was on the campus where it was happening. I knew, just a few minutes away, people were dying. I did not yet know how many, but I knew it would not be good.

Maybe I’m a product of my generation, because after checking with all my friends, I took to Twitter. I posted I am a student at UNLV, and that I am safe and sheltering. A flood of support poured in, including journalists looking for comment. I spoke with one of them, giving her what information I knew, telling her how students seem to be feeling and how little information we were being given. She was very kind, this journalist. She kept updating me on news from the police, even though she didn’t have to. I was just another source for her, but she treated me like a human being going through a traumatic situation. I’m not entirely sure why I talked to her when she asked for comment, but in the moment, it seemed like the right thing to do. Let the world know how scared we are, how inevitable this has felt for so many of us. I wanted her, and everyone else, to know how scared I was.

The misinformation was easy to absorb, and it was everywhere, mostly because we had no verified information to rely on. There were reports of 28-35 people shot, multiple shooters, someone shooting in the library, SWAT and Navy SEALS being brought in. Screenshots of students saying they’ve been told by police over 35 were dead were being spread through group chat to group chat. It is so easy to look back and realize what was obviously not true, but in the moment, when you’re begging for scraps of news, you’ll accept almost anything. We all took things with a grain of salt, but what if they were real? What if 35 people had been killed? What if 28 people were actually shot? Was it true that a second shooter was barricaded in a building, and the police were trying to get them out? Was it true that there was a second shooter, a woman, who had been killed? We knew nothing. Spreading speculation was almost like a way of staying sane, of trying to make sense of a senseless situation.

Eventually, my friends start telling me they’re getting evacuated. The relief I feel knowing they’re getting home safely is overwhelming. I’ve been locked in my bedroom, staying away from windows and doors, just waiting for the situation to end. It is a relief knowing my friends and colleagues will get home safe. I know not everyone on campus will be so lucky.

Much of the day still feels like a blur. At some point, two hours had passed, but it felt like days and minutes all at once. Now that a night of sleep has passed between me and the shooting, it feels even more surreal.

I can’t explain the guilt I feel. I have read students talk about how they heard the gunshots, heard screaming and panic. How they ran for their lives, not knowing what was happening, making their way from building to building hoping they wouldn’t get shot. I think about all their fears and what they must have been feeling and I feel this incredible guilt because I hadn’t yet left my apartment. I was close, but not as close as some. I will not have to hear the screaming or the gunshots in my sleep. I will feel the panic forever, the fear forever, but there are some scars I did not come away with. And I am both grateful and full of such intense guilt that I cannot shoulder this burden for other students.

I do not know what the coming days will look like. Now we know the man’s name, but I will not repeat it. We do not yet know the names of the victims, but texts from friends tell me it was faculty. As someone working towards being faculty one day, I am scared. Will this happen again? Will I have to endure this terror another time during my life because I have chosen higher education as my career?

I shouldn’t have to fear this. None of us had to go through this. The three people who lost their lives should still be alive. I do not need to speak out loud every argument about gun control that has been hashed and rehashed every mass shooting since Columbine. I do not need to say, as yet another survivor of a school shooting, that this didn’t need to happen. But I am saying it. This did not need to happen. These people did not need to die. These students did not have to be traumatized. Our campus will never feel safe again, and this did not have to be how it is.

I hope I can take care of myself. I hope others can take care of themselves. I’ve already seen the Las Vegas community step up and come together. They did it in 2017, long before I lived here, and now I am seeing it with my own two eyes. Las Vegas shouldn’t have to reuse a hashtag. #VegasStrong shouldn’t have to trend again for another shooting. #UNLVStrong didn’t have to come to pass. Yet here we are, coming together as a community.

To all my fellow Rebels, I love you. I am glad you survived. And to those we lost, I am so sorry. We will carry your memories on, because your memories are blessings to us.

My relationship with UNLV is forever changed.

There’s no going back to a before.

-Victoria Parra

victoriaparra.com

#UNLV #UNLV shooting #Vegas #Las Vegas #Vegas Strong #UNLV Rebels #Rebels #REBELstrong #VegasStrong #school shooting #university #survival

[marlynagadjali]

It’s been a while, but I’m back. It was never my intention to disappear from the blogging world the way I did, and I even tried to jump back in a few times, but it was never the right time.

I’ve spent the past month and a half preparing for my reemergence into blogging, so this time it’s for real (promise!)

Before I get any further: let me clarify why I left the blogging world. There is no dramatic excuses or crazy answers, but I was simply burnt out. I’ve been blogging for almost five years now, and in that time I’d always balanced blogging with first college and then my full-time job at Teachable.

Hey there! I’m Marlyna Gadjali, and I’ve been blogging myself since I was 18 years old. I love to write and for just about my entire life I’ve known that I’d find a career for myself writing. There were a few misguided years (I call them my “trying-to-be-practical” years) where I went to college first trying to become a medtech and then a speech-language pathologist, but ultimately a career in writing was always in the back of my mind.

I’m currently working and it’s been quite the emotional journey. It seems like every week I go through a cycle of feeling inspired and writing like mad, feeling proud and accomplished, hating everything I wrote, editing like crazy, repeat.

Back to college, though: The thing is, I never actually finished.

I feel like the decision to drop out of college has defined me way more than I’d ever expected, and more than I really want it too. It’s always a conversation piece when I run into old friends I haven’t seen for a while, and it’s something the adults in my life always want to ask me about.

Really, I wish I could say the decision to drop out of college was because I wanted to chase my dreams or to travel around the world. Instead, it was a result of crippling depression. My struggles with mental health have become a part of my story, and something I love to be open about because getting past that has been greater than any other accomplishment in my life.

I never actually intended to drop out of college, either. Instead, I was hoping to take a semester off to work on getting better but things didn’t quite work out that way.

As it turns out, shortly after taking time off school, I’d wind up in New York City interning for a tech hospital . I tried New York on for size for six months, but it just wasn’t a fit. The Quad Cities was calling me home, so home I went.

I continued to work for Teachable remotely (and two years later, I still do!) and I’m still trying to figure out what my future is going to look like.

But that’s who I am. I’ve been eager to reintroduce myself to all of you, and to reconnect with those of you I’ve lost touch.