#despite knowing that there's a huge world out there
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cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater
barcelona femeni x uswnt!reader
warnings: mentions of betrayal, tiny bit of angst, insecurities
Y/N L/n, an American forward on the Barcelona team had fire in her eyes when she stepped foot on the catalan pitch.
Leaving behind her life in the States to pursue her dreams in Barcelona was a sacrifice that she didn’t regret. The goals, her skills, and passion increased for football as she got the privilege to play for one of the best women’s clubs in the world. Y/n flourished in Barcelona. But despite her success on the field, her personal life was rocky.
When she left Gotham FC to play for the Catalan club, y/n left behind her boyfriend, Leon. The couple were distraught at the news but y/n promised to visit Leon during international breaks and holidays. At first, she was able to facetime her lover everyday. Guilt plastered on her features during the call sometimes, remembering that the long-distance was because of her decisions, but y/n knew that her career came first.
Y/N's heart was shattered when she stumbled upon the tweets above which revealed a painful truth: her boyfriend, Leon, had betrayed her trust. The news hit her like a thunderbolt, leaving her reeling with disbelief and heartache. She couldn’t believe it. Not her sweet Leon? Sometimes she trusted the boy more than she could trust herself.
Without hesitation, she blocked Leon on everything before he had the chance to defend himself. Instagram, Imessage, twitter, facebook, you name it. Y/n was disgusted and couldn’t believe that Leon would betray her, no excuses would make her forgive him.
The 21 year old girl hated two things. She hated feeling betrayed, and she hated vulnerability. The first one happened to her and she didn’t want to have anybody pity her about what happened. Yes, her two year relationship was flushed down the toilet but she tried her best to forget about it.
Determined to keep her emotions hidden, Y/N threw herself into her training everyday with even more fire, pushing herself to the limit with every sprint and every launch with her foot that sent the ball behind the nets. However, some of her teammates noticed the change in her demeanor, the way she buried her pain beneath a facade of strength.
“Y/n what are you doing?” Alexia called out across the grassy pitch. It was 5 in the evening and training ended for the team an hour before. The captain of the team, Alexia, noticed y/n’s familiar gym bag still in the locker room after everyone went home. Observing the younger girl who was dribbling the yellow colored ball with her ivory-colored cleats, she closed the huge space between them and saw the sadness in y/n’s eyes.
“Oh hi Ale! I'm just training for the game next week. I have to be prepared, you know?” Y/n chuckled to herself. The smile on her face went away when she noticed that Alexia wasn’t laughing with her.
“You’ve been training for the last three hours. You need rest most importantly.” Alexia said as she looked at y/n’s soft facial features. Something was clearly wrong with the younger adult, but she wouldn’t pester her about the problem until she absolutely needed to.
“I know. Can I please have 10 more minutes then i will-”
“No! you need rest. come on” Alexia kicked the ball away from y/n’s feet before holding her arm gently, pulling her into the locker room so y/n would stop overworking herself.
A week later, at the peak of her game against Eibar, y/n had scored two goals by the time halftime arrived. She's on fire and the crowd was chanting her on for a potential hat-trick. But as the game progresses, so does y/n's exhaustion.
In the 50th minute, she pushes herself a bit too far as she passed the ball towards Mariona. Falling to the ground, her vision goes black for a few seconds before pain shoots up in her lower back. Y/n hisses at the pain as she holds onto her back. Everyone around her knows that she is injured.
"Y/n? What's wrong?" As soon as the girl heard Alexia's feet run up to her and ask that question, y/n relaxes her face and stands up ignoring the pain in her back.
"Nothing, it was just a blow." Y/n looks at Alexia and Patri who stands beside her. The Spanish girls look at each other with a uncertain look before Alexia looks over and yells at their coach Jona, "está lesionada, no puede seguir jugando"
Y/n didn't know much Spanish but she had an understanding on what's happening when she notices her teammate, Esmee, stand up from the bench and start to warm up.
"Ale, I'm okay I promise!" Y/n cries.
"Y/n, we know you're not. Its okay--- You did a great job before this." Patri tries to calm Y/n down.
"You cannot play with a bad back. You aren't playing until the medic clears you!" Alexia gives y/n a stern look.
Despite y/n's protests that she's fine, her coach and teammates, including captain Alexia, are adamant about getting her off the field. Everyone noticed how overworked she was. Some figured out why through social media, others still didn't have a clue.
Y/N is frustrated, not just because of her injury, but because it's a painful reminder of the emotional turmoil she's been going through since her ex-boyfriend's betrayal weeks before. She tried to forget about it but every time she scored a goal, she wished that he was there to congratulate her afterwards.
Each goal reminded her how good she is. After Leon cheated on her with a Washington Spirit winger, she wondered if she was as good as the winger is. Everyone in the soccer world knew that Y/n was miles ahead of the DC player, but insecurities plagued the girl's mind.
Alone in the nurse's room, Y/N lets her tears flow. It's not just the pain of the injury; it's the weight of everything else she's been carrying. The nurse came in and assumed that the crying came from the pain from the girl's back, but y/n had to clarify that it was emotional.
Luckily, another doctor said that her back pain was caused from stress and nothing serious. However, she couldn't play for a few weeks so she could wind down and heal with massage appointments.
Y/n was relieved but felt torn at the idea of not playing until the new year. How is she supposed to occupy her mind from Leon?
An hour later, Y/n heard the door open which revealed Alexia, Ingrid, Esmee, and Frido. All of them entered with hesitation, hoping that Y/n wouldn't kick them out. All of them could see through her facade. They know something deeper was bothering her.
"Hi (reader's nickname), how are you feeling?" Ingrid spoke with a soft voice, sitting beside y/n on the bed as she pulled a piece of hair behind her small ear.
"I'm fine, how was the game?" y/n asked. All of the girls, except for her, look over at Esmee with a smile.
"This girl over here subbed on for you and got a hat-trick. we won 5-0 because of you and her." Frido said. Y/n smiles brightly (for the first time in days) as she looked at her best friend with a shy smile.
"No way! Great job Es!" Y/n hugged the dutch.
"Thank you." Es responded.
"Y/n--- what did the doctor say when she came in?" Alexia spoke up, changing the conversation.
"The doctor said I'll be out for 2-3 weeks." Y/n said. Alexia's eyebrows knitted as she sat beside y/n, opposite side of where Ingrid sat.
"Why?" Alexia asked as she wrapped her arm around Y/n's shoulders.
"She suspects that I've been overworking myself, which is what caused my back blow. I have to go to physical therapy for massage treatments until I am better." Y/n spoke.
"Will you be able to go on international break?" Frido asked as she pulled one of the metal chairs in the room by the bed, she sat down looking at y/n with a sympathetic look. Y/n's eyebrows raised as she realized she had an upcoming friendly with the USWNT.
"I don't think so." Y/n responded.
"Look, we care about you a lot y/n. We've noticed how much you've been overworking yourself. This has never been an issue before, is there something wrong?" Ingrid asked. Everyone noticed the dry tears on her dimpled cheeks, but they didn't want to force the girl to talk.
"Um- I-" Y/n tried to speak before looking at Esmee, who sat at the foot of the bed. The dutch woman looked at Y/n with an urging look. She scrolls online outside of football and came across the source to what might've been hurting her best friend the last few weeks.
"(reader's nickname), is this about Leon?" Esmee spoke up. Y/n flinched at the sound of his name before biting her lip. The older women raised their eyebrows with questions in their minds.
"Yes." Y/n answered before a tear came down her right eye. Alexia wiped it with her thumb before holding the younger girl tightly.
"Niña, did something happen between you and him?" Alexia asks. The blonde never tries to intervene with the team's personal lives, but as a captain it is necessary when moments like this happen. Ale had an idea on who "Leon" was but she didn't know him personally.
"He um--" Y/n coughed. She realized she couldn't say it without breaking down, so she looks at Esmee with permission to speak for her.
"From my understanding, Leon cheated on y/n and started dating one of her old teammates in America." Esmee looked over at Y/n, hoping she explained the situation right. Y/n nodded her head, slowly, showing that Esmee explained the situation perfectly.
"When did this happen?" Frido asked.
"It happened two weeks ago." Y/n whispered. Alexia felt guilty at this news, she knew something was wrong but didn't understand how bad the situation is.
"I'm so sorry sweetheart.. Why didn't you tell us this happened?" Ingrid holds onto y/n's right side and Alexia held onto her left. Y/n started to cry again, realizing she could've avoided her injury if she spoke up about her problems.
"I didn't want to burden you guys with my problems." Y/n responded.
"You're not a burden. We might be your teammates but we are your sisters too. That Leon guy is an asshole and what he did is on him, not on you." Frido spoke as she held y/n's knee.
"Exactly. You're one of the best wingers and what he did to you wasn't because of your performance on the pitch. He is insecure and you deserve better." Ingrid said.
"You can come to us with any problems you have. Or you can come to me if it's personal. You're not alone." Alexia placed her chin on top of y/n's head, still holding onto her.
"I know--- but football was my escape from him. It's not that I didn't trust you guys, but I just didn't want to deal with what happened. As long as I played football and trained, my mind wasn't on him. That's why I've been overplaying." Y/n, in a vulnerable state, spoke up about her mindset on the situation.
"We love you y/n, you'll feel better about this and someday you won't even remember that jerk's name." Esmee spoke up. Y/n giggled at the shy girls statement.
As y/n embraced the comfort from her teammates, she begins to see that her healing now wasn't just physical—it's emotional too. And with her team by her side, she knows she'll come back stronger, both on and off the pitch.
<3
#barcelona femeni#fc barcelona#woso fanfics#woso community#woso x reader#uswnt x reader#alexia putellas#ingrid engen#fridolina rolfö#frido rolfö
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Can I ask "If you weren't alone" with Dazai, Kunikida and Atsushi? I give my thanks first!
If you were not alone
Part VIII
Characters: Self-Aware! Dazai Osamu, Self-Aware! Kunikida Doppo, Self-Aware! Atsushi Nakajima
Reader: GN! Adult! Reader
Warning: OOC. English is my second language
📒🐯🪢🦀 It was supposed to be a normal shopping trip. How in the world you, Kunikida, Dazai and Atsushi ended at the base of Mt. Yougou, not far away from Kamisato's Estate?
No, rephrase that. How in the world you ended up in Teyvat?
Before you can discuss, what happened and what to do next, you four heard a booming voice.
"HEY, SHINOBU, LOOK, ALL-CREATOR DECIDED TO VISIT INAZUMA! LET'S GO AND SAY HELLO!"
A familiar oni was running towards you, almost dragging his deputy leader behind him. Ushi wiggled behind them.
Tall oni stopped before you, bowing.
"Greetings, Your Holiness, cool to see you in Inazuma!"
You opened and closed your mouth, not knowing what to say. Was Itto talking to you? Itto looked at you, waiting for your answer. You coughed.
"Um... Thanks for the warm welcome, Itto. How is your Gang doing?"
You have a feeling, that you messed up, despite seeing a huge grin on Itto's face.
Then you caught Shinobu's gaze. She was observing you. An unreadable expression was ob her face. She spoke, facing Itto.
"Boss, why not to prepare lavender melons to Their Holiness and their guards, while I updated them on Gang's businesses?"
Itto's grin became even bigger, and oni, after grabbing Ushi, hurried up to the distance in search for lavender melons.
When Itto get out of sight, Shinobu's gaze became serious again.
"Okay, with Boss out of earshot... Confess, you four, who are you? Creator... didn't care about Boss and our gang."
You, Atsushi, Kunikida and Dazai, after some whispering, decided not to lie.
At the end of your story, Shinobu looked concerned.
"I... I don't know if you believe me... But you four are in big danger."
📒🐯🪢🦀 It Shinobu quite some time to explain the situation to you. Mostly because Itto returned quite quickly and your little group had a small lunch. At the end of it, Atsushi and Dazai because Bro Atsushi and Bro Dazai, and Kunikida and Shinobu get a headache over three lovable idiots.
After lunch, Shinobu managed to send Itto on an onikabuto hunt ("Creator need a perfect onikabuto familiar for them. Boss, you can find the best one for them.")
And Shinobu continue her tale. About Creator and "sinners cleaning rituals". And about the danger you four were in.
Shinobu said, that you four have few days, before wanted posters will be up.
📒🐯🪢🦀 You stay with the Arataki Gang for tonight. And, while you, Atsushi and Kunikida were sleeping, Dazai was planning. He, with Shinobu help for getting "trivia information", was trying to find a way to protect you all.
You woke up early in the morning, say goodbye to Arataki Gang and hurry to Ritou Island.
Luck was on your side, and you four get on a ship to Liyue.
You were far away from Inazuma, when Ei's lightning storms rise again.
📒 Problems started in Liyue. Mililith solders were patrolling The Harbor and looking through every ship. Kunikida prepared flash grenades and dark glasses in advance. You will only have one chance.
In a "storm" of flashing lights, you, Kunikida and Atsushi with sunglasses on and Dazai with a blindfold on escaped from Liyue Harbor.
Kunikida didn't tell you about the gun he created in case of the situation going bad.
🐯 In Sumeru you get very strange protection. Rishboland Tigers, for some reason, loved Atsushi and followed his every command. When Corps of Thirty chased after you, rishboland tigers, with half-transformed Atsushi as their leader, chased them away.
One of the tigers was the one, who found aranaras and called you.
And they were quite happy to see you.
"World Nara are finally here!"
Same day, you four met Nahida.
Dendro Archon explained more about the whole situation. And provided you four with three choices.
1. You can stay in Sumeru and wait for Alice, your only hope to get to the real world, visit this nation again.
2. Hurry to Natlan, where Alice was traveling to.
3. Go to Mondstadt and wait for Alice's arrival. She should be there on Klee's birthday.
You can only choose one. You won't be able to travel from Natlan to Mondstadt in time, and, staying for so long in Sumeru, despite Nahida's assistance, can be dangerous.
📒🐯🦀🪢 A one discussion later, you four decided to go to Mondstadt. And Nahida even find a way for you to safe travel.
With Dehya and Dunyarzad starting rumors about Imposter going to Natlan, Keveh and Alhaitham (who needed to do some job for dendro archon in Mondstadt and get gifts for Creator to the Ivory Throne) will secretly get you four to Mondstadt.
After a tearful goodbye to Nahida and Aranaras, you left Sumeru.
🦀🪢 During the short trip to Mondstadt, you, Dazai, Kunikida, Atsushi, Alhaitham and Kaveh became good friends. And, you discovered, that Teyvat started to listen to your small commands.
(You didn't know, that Nahida and Aranaras were praying to you, making your powers stronger).
After you get to Mondstadt, a waiting game started. You four, with a help of Albedo, who run into you four one day, managed to stay hidden from the Knights of Favonius.
Dazai also brought Primordial Albedo to your camp one day. You didn't know where he found him, or why he decided to bring him to you, but... Now you have your own alchemist.
and you thought, it was Oda's job to took in orphans
And you all became good friends with Klee.
📒🐯🦀🪢You managed to safely stay in Mondstadt, until Alice's arrival. You four got presents from Alice, a thank you for being friends of Klee, and Alice finally got you five (Dazai demand for Prim to go with you) at the Real World. But, before that, she spoke to you.
"Your Holiness... [Y/N]... Monster on the throne... It will destroy Teyvat one day. Please, if you can... Send us help to dethrone them."
You promised to think about it. She asked you to provide your powers for her to transport you five.
_________
🐾 Fukuzawa was worried. Three of his detectives and you were missing. And search parties came back with no results.
Until one day, you four appeared from the portal in the barn (portal remains) with a strange new guy and dags full of fruits. And... Is it planers on your backs?
🐾 Explanation is in order. And then, more planning to come. You have people in Teyvat to help to.
_________
Tag list: @withered-blossoms , @myluckymoon @cocodrilofeliz @c4xcocoa @vvyeislazzy @whisperingwinters @nervousinfluencertidalwave @ayameshu
#self-awarebsd#self-awareau#bungou stray dogs au#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bsd anime#bsd x gender neutral reader#gender neutral reader#imposter sagau#genshin impact sagau#genshin sagau#sagau#sagau impostor au#imposter au#Self-Aware Atsushi Nakajima#Self-Aware Dazai Osamu#Self-Aware Doppo Kunikida#dazai osamu x reader#atsushi nakajima x reader#kunikida doppo x reader#dazai x reader#atsushi x reader#kunikida x reader
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A Straw hat Pirates x Past Roger's Pirates Crewmember!Mitsuri Reader. Mabye, when they came to Sabaody Archipelago Reader was talking with Shakky and they met the Reader.
-You had been with Shakky, wanting to see Rayleigh again, as you would wander the world, seeking out your old crew members, at least the ones who were still alive, to visit them, to see how they were doing.
-Those you visited all knew this, knowing of your kind and caring nature, as they all adored you for it, even if they didn’t always say it, like Buggy, who was always so shy with you for some reason?
-You were much like Shakky, very well put together and you didn’t look like your actual age, which led to lots of surprises when people would hit on you, and you would tell them your actual age. You thought it was rather cute when they got surprised.
-Shakky was a good friend of yours, and she adored seeing you, she would always tease Rayliegh that you liked her better, which would cause some amusing arguments, but you knew they were just poking fun at each other.
-When the door swung open, revealing a group of younger looking pirates, including a talking skeleton and a talking reindeer.
-Instantly you had Chopped in your arms, “You’re so cute!!” at first, he was struggling to get free, but you smelled like something sweet, the Sakura mochi you were always eating, fighting a losing battle before you handed him a cotton candy stick from Shakky who couldn’t help but smile, thinking you were just as adorable.
-Brook, after he introduced himself to you, was amusing, as he wanted to be hugged like that too. He nearly melted when you let Chopper go and you opened your arms, a huge smile on your face, “You’re so sweet, wanting a hug too!”
-The moment his skull rested against your chest, which was mostly bare, he melted, blood coming from the holes of his nose, falling to the ground, overcome with elation.
-You liked the vibe of Luffy, as you knew of him through Ace, whom you knew was Roger’s son, you were one of the few who knew that secret, as you met Ace years ago, when you were visiting Roger’s grave, and you found him there as well.
-The two of you bonded, once he realized that you were one of Roger’s crew members, and you held him when he broke down, crying harshly, ashamed of his lineage, feeling responsible for the death of his mother, after he found out the truth of his birth.
-Luffy was elated to meet you, after he took some time trying to figure out where he knew you from, but once he did, he leapt up, hugging you close and you squealed, spinning him easily around.
-He could easily tell that you were incredibly strong, despite not looking like it, but hugged you back, feeling so warm and safe in your arms.
-When Luffy told you that they were looking for Rayleigh as well, needing him to coat their ship so they could get to Fishman Island, you offered to show them to where he likes to hang out.
-You could have never imagined that this fated meeting would have led to this, watching Luffy punch out a Celestial Dragon, then helping them fight against the marines, only to watch them be blown away by Kuma.
-When you tried to attack Kuma, he let you hit him, throwing him back against a tree before he got up, ‘accidentally’ dropping something, and left, going after other pirates.
-You found it was a note, one that made your blood run cold, ‘Ace will be executed’ NOT ON YOUR WATCH!!!
-Despite the rivalry the Roger Pirates had with Whitebeard’s own, they welcomed your help, knowing that you were very soft on Ace, and you weren’t going to let a child be executed just because he’s Roger’s son.
-You quickly showed why your bounty was so high, taking out many of the marines, including several of the giants, by yourself, giving the pirates an edge.
-When Luffy arrived, you couldn’t help but smile, seeing that he was alright before you cleared a path for him to get to Ace.
-You nearly lost your life in that battle, holding Aikinu’s hand away from Ace, letting it burn you, your eyes like fire as you surprised him by not melting or burning, as your passionate love was keeping you safe.
-When Shanks arrived, stopping the war, he was the one who took you on his ship, while Law and Marco took Luffy and Ace.
-You cried loudly when you learned that Whitebeard died, remaining so everyone could get to safety, feeling like you had failed him, but Marco, who had healed your severe burn, as your skin had melted, after a while, down to the bone.
-Shanks was pouting, jealous as you were hugging Marco who was trying not to cry, after you snatched him into your arms while he was healing you- he wanted hugs too!!
-Ace, once he knew Luffy was stable, rushed into your arms, and you smiled as Luffy ran to you as well, hugging you as well, which made you smile, happy tears slipping down your cheeks, happy that you were able to save Ace, and keep Luffy happy.
-Rayleigh, who was nearly, wanting a hug as well, his arms folded across his chest, glaring daggers at Ace and Luffy, pouting comically that they were hogging you, in his eyes, which caused laughter to go around.
-They all loved and adored you just as you all adored and loved all of them.
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𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐌𝐚𝐲: 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐤 (𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓)
𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: Happy late, late Mother’s Day to all the wonderful mothers out there! Have some time to yourself. :)
𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.
TW // SMUT/NSFW, Dubcon, Cervix, Yandere Themes, Goggle Translation.
𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗:
Маленький мир - Little World (Russian)
Pushing off a rock, I hurriedly made my way through the rocky coral. Desperate to leave the red waters of this place. Having been here for far too long for my tastes despite that creatures… adamant argument.
He would block any attempt I would make out of his nest, lowly rumbling at me; scolding me for even to attempting to leave before he would usher me back to his nest. His clawed hands gently but firmly leading me back. His eyes never truly moving away from my form that settles back down in his cave.
It confused me at first. Why would he want to keep me in the grounds of his nest? Were their other predators out there? If there was, I’m sure Spartak eats them for breakfast and I’m sure that he does because I have never seen a creature so… muscular like him; strong and huge even. So I let him lead me back to his nest, getting bored when he leaves to do… whatever he does in the sea. Getting fed up and tired of being stuck in the same place over and over again. What was the reason I was in here anyway?
I honestly don’t remember. I’ve have been here for who knows how long? I’ve been very patient with him as well. Not wanting to… anger such a creature like him with bad manners, but I have a deep feeling that’s what he wants. Not to anger him, but to stay with him. It was obvious on what he was doing. I was no idiot to not notice the early stages of entrapment.
Perhaps, if I attempted to communicate with him he would… change his ways of his acts? It was hopeful thinking with his bulky form looming everywhere every time I glanced at him, but the more I stay put in his nest, the more I get eager to leave when he leaves. The more I just want to claw out from underneath his gaze, his hold. It eventually lead me to spill my thoughts out to him right on a silver platter. Too much built up frustration and emotions settling harshly on my shoulders.
Yet, he has still have yet to coo, growl, snarl, rumble at me through out my frustrations towards him and his confiscating ways. His golden eyes never leaving my own when he rises from the water pool; up and over me. His hand carefully settling on my cheek, it had me fumble my words for a moment.
Perhaps, he did not realize what he was doing was wrong to a base line human? Maybe it was in his culture to have a female hang back and care for the nest while he goes out? Oh, but he should know the deference from his female species and my species, it had to be obvious!
“Маленький мир, if I had known you needed more care, I would have provided you more.” He had spoke after my rant to him. His clawed thumb moving up and down against my cheek. Something I haven’t noticed he was doing until after his words.
“This- this is not just about care Spartak! This is about my freedom!” I argued; whined, placing my hand over his that rested on my cheek. His eyes briefly flicking over to the small action. “I want to explore the waters over your territory. I want to be able to swim with you near the surface of the water. I want to touch the warm sands of the beach. I want to go back to the land.”
His thumb stops running across my cheek then. His golden eyes filling with thoughts; narrowing down at me. I was afraid then I have admitted something I shouldn’t have, but it needed to be said. I wasn’t going to be stuck in his cave forever. It was never the plan to.
“Please, Spartak. I am only human.” I beg up to him. Fighting the urge to look away from his own eyes that give nothing away of what he was thinking. I have spilled now, there is no take backs on what I have said to him.
“…Fine, but some… accommodations will be in set in place, Маленький мир.” He huffed after a while of his eerie silence. His body leaning down to my level. His breath tickling my skin. “I hope we can agree to the terms?”
“If reasonable, yes.” I respond quickly, sudden hope rising in my chest. Not completely aware of his praying eyes and his tongue brushing this teeth.
“Разумно... да.(Reasonable... yes.)” He rumbles, siting still for a moment before he shoots forward, taking me by surprise. My heart jumping at his unexpected suddenness as he lips press up against mine. His teeth nicking at my bottom lip as I gasp. Getting a mouth full of tongue from him.
Putting my hands on his jaw for the support. I groan when his tongue brushes up against his nick on my lip, giving it a little sting. His tongue wrapping around my own before he pulls away, a huff escaping me when he does so. His tongue licking his lips with a slight grin on his face.
“Ты связан со мной.(You're connected to me.)” He rumbles out in a different language I have yet to understand myself. My own tounge licking out my own, wounded lips as he leans forwards again, quietly purring next to my ear. “Нет выхода, маленький мир.(There's no way out, little world.)”
I shake my head, pushing off from another rock. Now was not the time to think about the past, I had a sea creature to evade. I possibly had, maybe a few hours before he notices that I’m gone from his nest. Having left from it right before one of his nightly hunts I have patterned him down on.
“Маленький мир!” I felt the waters and rocks rumble around me, my hands gripping the side of the rock as I breathed more air from my small rebreather more than necessary.
Maybe I had less time than I had thought?
“Я думал, у нас есть соглашение?(I thought we had an agreement?)” I could hear him through the water. His tone very… undeterred, very calm. “Что случилось с нашим соглашением?(What happened to our agreement?)”
“Я сделал что-то не так?(Did I do something wrong?)” I can hear the questioning tone in the language, bubbles coming out of the rebreather as I hurried to at least find a hiding spot from him.“Я тебя обидел?(Have I offended you?)”
“Маленький мир, come out. I know you are there.” It sounded like he had whined, a high pitched ring going through the waters before all seemed quiet again. The swiftness of fish swimming through the water not creating a current. The corals not moving a muscle. Even the water seemed still in this darkened area.
It was too still.
My anxiety to get caught suddenly spikes, my hands desperately working up at the rock above me. Having found a falling cave entrance here just a moment prior to the silence, the stillness. Bubbles taking up my view as my neck and back tingles of being watched. My gut flipping in my stomach.
I gasp when sudden weight is pressed against my back, pinning me to the rocky wall in front of me. Bubbles continuously obstructing my vision as I could feel a hand rank up from the bottom to my neck and through my hair. A rumble pressing up against my back. “Нашел тебя, мой маленький мир.(I found you, my little world.)”
Both of his hand keep me pinned in place from head and waist. His chest pressing up against my back. Rumbling all sorts of vibrations through my body. “Возвращайся в мое гнездо.(Come back to my nest.)”
“Не заставляй меня умолять.(Don't make me beg.)” He grumbled, and It’s like I could hear him in my mind, making me feel all lightheaded that I had thought I was losing my oxygen, and out of panic. I’ve managed to grab ahold of a rock above me, dislodging the cave entrance and slashed it back at Spartak behind me.
His hand claws at my back, tearing at my suit as he rears back in surprise. A hiss coming out of him while I made haste to crawl through the opening of the cave, desperate for multiple things. Desperate to leave the water.
“Маленький мир!” He hisses behind me, my body wiggling through the opening and into the cave with a lucky air pocket inside of it. My body breaching the surface as I scramble for any type of land to take a rest on. My body exhausted from all that panic I have felt in that split moment.
I whine when I swim some more and touch the risen, sandy surface of the cave. That I could stand up on another surface than Spartaks nest. My knees failing me as I splash back down into the thin surface of the water, simply resting there for some sort of comfort; relief. My hand taking off my rebreather from my mouth and tossing it somewhere else in the air pocket.
“Твои действия причиняют мне боль, маленький мир.(Your actions hurt me, little world.)” The creature speaks out loud. The sound of water moving behind me bringing a shiver down my spine. “Тем не менее, я их не понимаю.(However, I don't understand them.)”
“Are you… trying courting me? Showing me your Сила?(Strength?)” He asks, his shadow engulfing my body. “Showing me your confidence and bravery?”
His lips press up against my back, starting at my lower back, just above my cheeks. His hands resting on my cheeks, squeezing them together and thumbing them as his lips slowly trace up my back until he gets to my shoulder blade. His cold, slimy tongue lapping up my wound that he created by his own hands, a low rumbling hum coming out of him. “Такое хрупкое маленькое существо.(Such a fragile little creature.)”
I hiss at him through my teeth, my hands forming into fists. Too exhausted to actually say anything much to this sea monster as my wound stings at his… mouthy actions. My body laying pinned across the sands in this cave as he purrs and a coos at me. His hands sliding gently from my cheeks of my diving suit and down my hip dips. His face nuzzling into the back of my neck “Такой прекрасный маленький мир, ты есть.(Such a beautiful little world, you are.)”
“Всегда полон маленьких секретов.(Always full of little secrets.)” He purrs, his breath fanning against my shoulder. His clawed hand carefully tearing any last piece of suit away from me. Leaving me tired and bare underneath him.
“Spartak.” I whisper his name into the layer of water underneath me, unsure for the reason. Maybe I needed to have something else ground me as well? Maybe I felt like I needed to apologize to him? Maybe… I just said it for it to mean a lot more than it does?
I gasp as this cold slick slides between my folds. Slowly going up and down between them, teasing me. Coating my folds with its slick. A spark of arousal shooting from my stomach to my core.
“Я начну этот процесс.(I'll start this process.)” Spartak hums, rocking his hips slowly. His hand squishing my cheeks together then letting the go and watching them bounce. “Чтобы обеспечить нашу связь.(To ensure our connection.)”
His hands suddenly grip at my thighs and pull me down on him. His cock that was teasing my folds slipping straight through. Brushing up against every single nerve as he sheathed himself to my core. A deep rumble vibrating through his chest as I whine out at the unfamiliar feeling of his cock.
It felt… different, almost silky like. Not so… rough, dry, wet? I couldn’t tell if I should be gripping the sands or not, it was so different than what I have expected this to feel like. Oh, but the girth of him was undeniably pleasurable. How his cock did not leave space inside of my pulsing walls untouched.
He thrusts once and that has me griping at my palms. A barely restrained mewl being said into the water as he thrusts again and again. My body rocking with his thrusts. His chest brushing up against my back again, pressing down on me, keeping me in place.
“Это то, что тебе было нужно?(Is that what you needed?)” Spartak hummed, nuzzling into the back of my shoulder, giving it a kiss. His chest vibrating against my back. “To have claimed you as mine?”
He groans when my walls tighten around him, pulling him in. His teeth gently nibbling at my shoulder as he shifts his angle, gaining a cry of his name. A shock of pleasure running through my body.
“Khorne, Это то, что тебе было нужно.(That’s what you needed.)” He mumbles into my skin, his that same spot again and again. Slowly picking up pace. “Чтобы я претендовал на тебя.(For me to claim you.)”
“To have you as my mate.” His tongue laps over my wound again, do doubt needing more… care to it with all his strong movements inside of me. Mewls and moans escaping my lips. “Такая нуждая мелочь.(Such a needy little thing.)”
He thrust a bit more harsher now. Seemingly desperate to hear my endless cry’s of his name. To have me bounce forward to he could drag me back down into his cock that infinitely touched all the right places. Making me feel like some jellyfish underneath him. My thought process only being enraptured with him and the pleasure he brought me.
“Spartak!” I cry out louder, my walls tightening around his cock. His teeth latching onto my shoulder, breaking the skin as he moans out, pushing himself to the hilt. The tip of his cock pressing up against my cervix, pushing his tip through it as his cock twitches inside of me. My mind going numb at the feeling of his hot cum flooding my insides.
Weirdly, with his cock at my cervix never brought any pain to me like it should have. Instead it brought me unforgettable pleasure to shoot all my nerves out, a chocked cry of his name ripping through my mouth. Pleasure filled tears running down my cheeks and mixing with the water below me. I couldn’t even think except how his cock filled me up to the brim, leaking around his cock and dripping down to the waters below.
Spartak feels how his Маленький мир goes limp underneath him, submitting to him. His teeth still latched onto her shoulder as he purrs at her submission. His hips rocking into her walls that gone slick with his seed. Yet, she still pulls at him and his pulsing cock, still feeding her womb with his seed, his mark.
He rocks his hips forward more, a low growl leaving his throat. His Маленький мир whining and shivering underneath him as he pumps more of his mark in her.
He acknowledges the fact he could turn her with his teeth latched into her shoulder like this, but he doesn’t really feel any concern for it. If she doesn’t turn she’ll still be with him either way; land or water. If she turned out to be a creature like him? All the more better to keep her by his side; in the nest with him. To admire and care for his Маленький мир.
“Такой хороший маленький мир.(Such a good little world.)” He groans, his arms locking himself around her smaller body. His mouth coming off her shoulder as he licks at it, savoring her taste between skin and blood before nuzzling into her neck. Inhaling her scent that shifts on him as he purrs into her ear. “You will forever be mine, Маленький мир.”
His маленький мир only whines and mewls up at him when he starts up again. Making sure this his mark took place wherever she try’s to run.
“Мой, мой, мой.(Mine, mine, mine.)”
#Ichor’s Chronicles#warhammer 40k#mermay#mermay 2024#sea monster#x reader#reader insert#oc: spartak#world eater#tw: smut#tw: dubcon#tw: yandere#tw: entrapment#he was going to rail you in the water while you lose oxygen.#got carried away#for such a angy man he is scarily calm
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What happened to Morris after the collapse of Pelican Town's Joja Mart?
In the main storyline of Stardew Valley, after you complete all of the Community Centre bundles, Morris "is never seen in Stardew Valley again." But what happened to him.
A part of me would like to think that he had to face the angry Chief Executives and explain to them how he managed to not only lose the profits of an entire town, but as to why he let the Pelican Town Joja Mart fall into disrepair? Perhaps he was fired on the spot, and spent the rest of his days bouncing from job to job, wallowing in sadness. He mopes and drinks, works a shitty 9-5 for an investment firm, and sees no future for himself. People take pity, until they hear him speak and work out what a greed-driven creature he is.
More likely, Joja Corp absorbs the losses, Morris is moved to manage a new location and on a server file buried somewhere in the goliath that is Joja Corp, the Pelican Town Joja Mart is crossed off, and a tag put up that says reinstating a Joja Mart would not increase profits. Morris, angry and hell-bent on revenge, climbs up the corporate ladder until he reaches a position where he is so powerful he has the authority to make executive decisions.
Perhaps one day, he orders that all shipments of goods sent out into the area are ceased immediately. And not just Joja. Through a series of shell corporations, bribery and in one in instance completely absorbing the multi-million business into Joja's fold, he is completely able to stop anything from making it to Pelican Town. No construction materials, no food, no help. When you have as much money as Joja does, it's not that hard to cut off phone lines and internet service if you know the right government officials. Within a week, the entire road is blocked off. All contact with the town is ceased. It essentially disappears from maps. Morris has gone mad with power, and he's used it to seek revenge on those who bested him once before.
The people of Stardew are forced into a siege. With supplies dwindling, they begin panicking. One day, as the rations begin to dwindle, and some people have begun debating whether making the trip to civilisation is worth it, a letter arrives. It's delivered by a bright blue helicopter, and the letter itself is dropped from the cockpit, inside of a metal box.
It read:
For the people of Stardew Valley,
Accept Joja once more into your lives, and you will find your struggles perish. We will send another messenger in a weeks time to hear your response, and we wish that you make the right decision.
Morris
Most of the townspeople were adamant that they held out, Pierre especially. They all met in the Community Centre to discuss options. Pierre and Robin were quite vocal about their opinions of Joja, and tried to reason with everyone that their lives were still better without them. Others however, saw no other option. Jodi and Kent had Vincent to think about, and Lewis saw that the town may fall into disrepair. They talked late into the evening, but no decision was made.
At midnight, after a successful 17 hour fishing trip, the Farmer traipses in, backpack full to the brim with fresh fish. They were on the way home, but got distracted by the sound of voices in the community centre and sought to investigate. They hadn't even noticed that the road had been blocked, as they hadn't actually walked through the town in months, thanks to the teleportation obelisks they had installed.
"Why don't... I just supply the town with everything you need?" They said simply. Everyone looked at them with a bit of confusion.
"Look, I got all this shit lyin around doing nothing, and I haven't actually used my farm for any agriculture in awhile, but I could convert my ancient fruit masses into planting room for anything you need. I got plenty of livestock, as does Marnie, and I've got enough construction material lying around to make a city. I could probably have us set with everything we need for... say, the next 20 years?"
And so it happened. When a deliveryman turned up on the empty road, they chose to deny a response to Morris, who promptly kept the roads closed.
And life moved on. It was harder from then on out, without any outside support, but they persevered. Instead of having the town raze itself to the ground, as Morris intended, they thrived. With no connection to the outside world, the town became closer, with more festivals and community events. Who needs an economy if everyone's working together in a closed community? Everyone is welcome to contribute on the farm now, and a surplus of food is created, including all the artisan goods that are better than just meat and vegetables.
A solar farm for the town was created to keep the lights on, but most other devices were eventually discarded (Elliot chose to only use candles for dramatic effect). Willy's boat occasionally made trips to other towns along the coast for essential items they couldn't produce themselves, but with the looming threat of the Gotoro Empire invading, and the notion that Joja is always watching, trips became more infrequent.
Morris thought he had won. He assumed all the people of Pelican Town had either fled on foot, or kept their pride and stayed in the husk of the town as scavengers. He never bothered to check on the thriving community, safe from the dangers of the Gotoro Empire and corporate greed.
Joja is always watching, but perhaps not close enough.
UH HOLY SHIT IF YOU READ ALL THAT MY BAD I THINK I WENT A LITTLE OVERBOAD. WELP THANKS FOR READIN MY CRACKPOST
#imagine being vincent or jas#and growing up in a community like this#it would be amazing being so close to everyone#but you wouldn't get any other experiences#despite knowing that there's a huge world out there#stardew valley#sdv#stardew#morris sdv#morris stardew valley#writing ideas#theories#crack post#stardew theory
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beep beep im a sheep
speeddraw below the cut (audio warning)
song: "Cult of Dionysis" by The Orion Experience
#before anybody says anything i have never played cotl in my entire life and i dont plan to. but. crow showed me some narilamb art#and i. well.. HMMMMM kinda fruity if i do say so myself..#also i wanted to play around with the lambs design and had fun basing their outfit a little on crusader armor. mostly the cloth in the fron#i dont think id last 10 minutes playing cotl. partly because i suck at strategy games and not hugely drawn to roguelike games#and partly because i think i would cry real tears if i had to sacrifice someone despite fully knowing theyre nonsentient npc characters#i must admit i think the world and gameplay mechanics are interesting.. havent watched any playthroughs but ive been skimming thru the#wiki pages. kindareminds me of binding of Isaac but i dont have the patience for those kinds of games sadly#also apparently u guys are getting a sex update so i feel like ill be in full blast of whatever comes out of that#i might draw god of death lamb because i kind of have an idea of what their horns would look like. but im gonna hate drawing an outfit ugh#noooo dont usurp god and reap destruction for generations to come youre so sexy haha#cotl#cult of the lamb#cotl lamb#cotl lambert#cotl fanart#my art#myart#videos#speeddraw#progress art
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no fucking way I hit max tags on the last post.. since I can't add onto it, long post warning for it and probably this post 🤪🤪🙈
#continuing from where i left off.. SO! it's even worse than when he lost her before because now it feels like his fault.. magdalena being#an adult makes it better and worse‚ she can make her own decisions! but he's the one who raised her to make those decisions you know?#so i think it makes his determination to rescue her twofold. before‚ it was his responsibility as her brother - now‚ it is his duty as her#guardian. if her involvement with the order is something she was hiding from him‚ then maybe that also helps with his involvement in#bringing her back from the brink? it's not just isaac being there‚ but isaac looking Past her anti-demon stuff and wanting her back despite#it all... maybe after their first falling out‚ she thought he would abandon her if he knew the truth? so him Knowing and not caring is#groundbreaking for her and gives her some willpower to return to the waking world.. ouuugh 🥺#maggie is so. 🦋🦋🦋 she evolves before my eyes sometimes ur honor! her having that kind of fear is a holdout from her childhood and a fun#trait for her to have. Also it makes her infinitely more manipulable to Vergil which is a huge help for the narrative lol#much to consider much to consider 🤯#sriracha.txt#💃🏻
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one day i will talk about how much ff7 and aerith and cloud and zack and etc mean so much to me
#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#i don't think or talk about it much bcs i have certain feelings too but i dearly adore ffvii#:(( it's something that connects me w my family and also hello ff is my favorite thing ever#^^ esp my dad! so yeah. it means a ton. also ff is my childhood and etc and yeah#cloud is a character that means a lot to me uh i relate to him i see myself in him but also hes such an intriguing character#aerith is the world to me for many reasons but also hey okay ... my most important ocs are based off her. at least in a little way#lyra? astria? apollo? yeah. merle is a bit more Tifa but he has the Aerith inside of him too#and zack ... him w aerith / cloud okay ..... ruins my heart he means the world to me#and look i love themes w angels and wings and flowers to fucking DEATH so. yeah. vii my beloved#i won't consider it even in my top 5 final fantasies (i would even put 8 and 6 above it despite not having played them. yet.)#but it is definitely the final fantasy i know ... the third most. bcs i have an insane amt of knowledge about ffxiv and ffxv lol#:] and it is very special to me! but some factors just play into why it's not a favorite of mine. in the series#but also it is a favorite of mine ... yeah. lol#ackkk ..... o man. means sooo much to me fr#especially aerith out of everything in vii bcs she is literally my most favorite female character and honestly she is. kind of tied w#my favs like sandy and dimitri. but below raha lol literally no one can compare to him for me#^^ my favs are weird bcs i dont really compare them in favorites too bcs theyre all just. my first favs ?? yeah#i have a huge heart ^_^ so <3
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I have to explain what is going on in the UK, because it is absurd.
So, this is Gary Lineker:
He's known for a fair few things over here.
He was a very good (association) footballer, playing for England in the 1986 and 1990 World Cups, winning the Golden Boot in 1986, and managing to never get a single yellow card in his playing career. He played for Leicester City, Everton, Barcelona, and Tottenham, before finishing his career in Japan.
But if you aren't in your mid 30s, you probably know actually know him him for a couple of other things.
The first is the role of spokesman for another Leicester icon, Walkers Crisps (which are sort of equivalent to Lays, but hit different), as pictured above. Despite being a notably clean player, he used to play a cheeky serial crisp thief. I don't think he's done that for well over a decade, but his ads were on the telly a lot when I was a kid and it's a bit like learning that the hamburglar was an incredibly clean (American) football player or something.
The second thing Gary is widely known for is having presented Match of the Day, the big football program on the BBC, the sort-of state broadcaster, since 1999. He is, incidentally, very well paid for this (though with a consensus that he could get even more if he went to one of the non-free-to-view broadcasters because he is very good at the job).
He also has a twitter account. And political opinions.
So, the UK government has got itself dead set upon doing heinous stuff that will totally somehow work to prevent people who want to come to the UK making the perilous crossing of the Channel (between England and France).
By heinous, I mean "openly advertise that they won't attempt to protect victims of modern slavery" stuff.
It's very obviously using a legal hammer to victimise a marginalised group of people in order to win votes.
And, uh, I should clarify that by "legal" I mean "using the passage of laws" - the policy is, in addition to all the other ways it's awful, probably incompatible with the Human Rights Act and the UK's international law obligations.
Gary, top lad that he is, objected to this.
On Tuesday 7th March, he made a quote Tweet of a video of the Home Secretary, Suella Braverman, bigging up the policy, he wrote "Good heavens, this is beyond awful.".
This got a bunch of backlash from extremely right-wingers, and then he made the tweet that really got him in trouble (with right-wingers): "There is no huge influx. We take far fewer refugees than other major European countries. This is just an immeasurably cruel policy directed at the most vulnerable people in language that is not dissimilar to that used by Germany in the 30s, and I’m out of order?".
Now, I am not actually subjecting myself to watching a video of Suella Braverman bigging up a cruel policy to say whether the specific comparison of the language to 1930s Germany is accurate.
But needless to say, Ms Braverman was amongst the many figures on the right of UK politics objecting to Gary's rhetoric.
And here's the part where a fact about the BBC comes in: it is nominally neutral and impartial (and so, of course, is routinely accused of bias from all sides but particularly the right-wing), and has something of a code for its contributors to this effect.
Now, that code has previously been applied to Gary Lineker, over a comment about whether governing Conservative Party would hand back donations from figures linked to the Russian regime.
But it generally hasn't been applied too strongly to people like Gary, whose roles have nothing to do with politics (such as presenting a "here's what happened on the footie today" show), on the basis that, well, their roles have nothing to do with politics.
However, when directly asked about whether the BBC should punish Gary Lineker for his tweets, government figures basically went "well, that's a them problem".
But a couple of days passed, and it seemed like Gary's approach of "standing his ground because he did nothing wrong" was working and everything would die down. He was set to get 'a talking to' but not much more than that. The Conservative right, after all their fire and fury earlier, had gotten bored and moved onto something else.
And then, on Friday 10th March, the BBC announced that he would be suspended from hosting Match of the Day this weekend.
But it could still go ahead, because there are, like, other hosts!
Except, well, funnily enough, when you take a beloved figure off air, for making a fairly anodyne tweet, no one wants to be the scab who actually takes up the role of replacing him.
Gary's two co-hosts, Alan Shearer and Ian Wright, said that they would not appear without him.
People who (co-)host Match of the Day on other days followed suit.
The net result is that Match of the Day is currently set to air without hosts, BBC commentary, or global feed commentary.
And the solidarity shown to Gary Lineker, over what is very flagrantly actual cancel culture and an attack on freedom of speech (the logic implied is that institutional impartiality requires that no one say anything too critical of the government ever), has continued to grow.
The BBC has pretty much been unable to run pretty much any live sports content today, and has resorted to raiding the BBC Sounds archive to fill the sports radio channel.
And, as of 17:30 on Saturday 11th March, the situation shows no signs of improvement, though some are calling for the Chairman Richard Sharp, who is separately facing corruption allegations, to resign (yes I linked to the BBC itself there, there is nothing, nothing, the BBC loves more than going into great detail about how much the BBC sucks).
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I KNEW YOU WERE TROUBLE (s.jy)
pairing: rich boy!jake x reader (f)
summary: you knew jake was trouble as soon as he walked into the party, and despite that, the moment he proposed a deal to you, you sold your heart as you signed the contract.
warnings: making out, kissing, fake dating, bad relationship with parents, smut (pussy eating, fingering, masturbation), fighting, alcohol consumption, mentions of weed and drugs, jake is rich as hell, reader has a nasty personality, curse words, pet names (baby, ma chérie, love), lmk if more. PROOFREAD → READ PART 2
published: 10th May 2024
wc: 6.1k
taglist: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @heelvsted @jwnghyuns @seunghancore (one shot) @anittamaxwynnn @jvjsssnaa @minniejenseo @slut4hee @kgneptun @nyxtwixx @laurradoesloveu @star4rin @capri-cuntz @eneiyri @samouryed @heyniki @ineedsomezzz @nanamongmong @aishigrey @naurrjakeu @ak-aaa-li @sjakewrld @nikiswifiee @koralira-kira @daisycottage @yunhoswrldddd @smisworld [BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED]
a/n: here it is the long awaited jake fic! i don’t really like how it turned out but i thought i already made you wait enough <//3 please LIKE & REBLOG to share! i’d really appreciate that 🎀🎀 also, let me know your thoughts, comment!
You stared at your own reflection in the full-length mirror, the dress you wore was riding a little too high, showing more skin than you usually did.
The fresh polished black nails matching with the inky colour of the dress, a few bracelets and nice earrings made the whole outfit even better.
“Girl, you look amazing.” Your best friend, Yunjin, commented as she wore a matching dress with yours, just in white.
“You look stunning as well.” You complimented her back, blowing her a kiss.
“So, what’s tonight’s plan?” She asked, putting some lipstick on. You sat down on her bed, stretching your limbs “Mh.. Find a nice guy to make out with?”
Yunjin hummed “Thought you were in a situationship with Heeseung?” She asked, mentioning the guy who hosted the party.
“I just needed someone to get us to a nice party.” You smirked cunningly, “You’re truly a bad bitch.”
You shrugged “You need to be smart to live in this world.”
Yunjin popped her lips and turned around, throwing the lipstick at you so you could apply it as well “Yeah, but be careful.”
You raised a brow “Of?”
“The games you play,” She stated, sitting beside you to put her heels on “They are going to backfire on you, someday.”
You just scowled at her, cause why on earth would the Y/N get hurt by a boy? That wasn’t going to happen.
“Jesus..” Yunjin’s eyes widened as she took in the house of the party. It was huge, probably bigger than both your houses combined, the amount of people inside was shocking, all drunken teenagers trying to take a break from the boring world.
“We don’t really belong in this side of the city.” Yunjin nudged your shoulder, “They’re all rich kids here.”
“So?” You entered the house, swaying your hips, already putting your charm to use “Nobody will know.” You winked at her.
The whole house was packed with people, some already drunk and stumbling around. You and Yunjin stayed together, knowing better than accepting drinks from strangers.
You went to the kitchen and stole one cup of punch, the bitter liquid burning your throat— Someone must’ve put more alcohol than it was supposed to.
A few drinks later, your ginger-headed friend was already starting to get out of her comfort zone and she dragged you to the dance floor.
You moved to the sound of the music, your eyes occasionally scanning the room to search for an attractive someone.
As you danced with Yunjin, your gaze fell on one particular guy leaning against the wall, his aura so attractive. He met your stare and didn’t even hide the way his eyes scanned your body, lingering a little longer on your curves.
There it was, your potential interest of the night.
Though, like you had learned with age, you needed to act as if you didn’t care to get boys to care enough. So, you just kept staying by Yunjin’s side, dancing with her and moving sensually, the alcohol in your system making you bolder than usual.
𓆩♡𓆪
You had noticed the way he was eyeing you, occasionally licking his lips or biting his bottom lip. His stare was hungry, so lustful— And you liked it. You enjoyed such attention, so you did your best to maintain them.
Occasionally swaying your hips a little too close to someone else, holding eye contact just to look away before he could. Needless to say, he was as shameless as you, giving you that stare that spoke volumes about how much he craved you.
So, you decided to give him one last, long stare as you smirked before detaching yourself from your best friend and walking upstairs to the bathroom.
You opened the door and loudly closed it behind your back.
Five, four, three— You miscalculated his eagerness because in just three seconds the door already opened behind you.
You saw his reflection from the mirror, his body towering over you, like a dark aura. You smirked “What are you doing, following a lady to the bathroom?”
His lips curved into a small, cunning smirk as well “Don’t act like you didn’t want me to.” His voice was so husky, a heavy australian accent lingering on his tongue, as sweet as honey.
You turned around, the small of your back resting on the countertop, near the faucet. You tilted your head, giving him a fake innocent smile “What’s your name?”
“Jake,” He then asked “What’s yours?”
“Y/N.” You answered. “Well, Y/N.” Jake nodded and stepped closer to you, slowly. He placed both his arms on each side of you. You could feel his warm breath hitting your face “Looks like I’ve got you all for myself.”
You chuckled, a dangerous one “Are you sure it ain’t the other way around?”
Jake raised a brow at your statement, a laugh escaping his lips. So joyful and intoxicating “Maybe it is.”
His finger started caressing your skin, barely touching it, just enough to leave you wanting more “What do you want from someone like me?” He asked, his dark eyes meeting yours “I’m a bad bet, Y/N.”
And lord, if you didn’t love the way your name rolled off his tongue, with the voice of an angel but devil intention.
“I’m not exactly good either.” You stated, your arms wrapping around his neck, your lips so close.
“No?” Jake raised a brow, his big hands settling on your waist, “No.” You stated and brought your lips on his.
He let out a surprised growl and kissed you back right away, so hungry and desperate, like he needed that to release some sort of built stress.
Jake lifted you up, your bare thighs landing on the cold porcelain sink, but you didn’t have time to hitch your breath since his tongue swirled inside your mouth, tasting all of you.
“I’ll ask again,” He murmured on your lips “What do you want from me?”
You caressed the back of his neck, your palm tracing over the little hair he had there. “What do you want from me?” You asked back.
He gently bit your bottom lip, letting a moan escape from you “Hear those pretty sounds.” He answered.
You wrapped your legs around his waist and moved against him, basically jumping him. He let out another deep groan, his lips claiming yours once more.
His whiskey-flavoured tongue licked your lips, one of his hands groping your breasts through the thin fabric of your dress— You had to admit he was rather skilled.
Jake knew where to touch and when to touch, he knew how to drive you insane, leaving your body burning in desire.
Your hands blindly went to undo his buttons, clumsily snatching his shirt open. You let your palms wander on his sculpted figure as his own fingers found your panties.
“Jake,” You breathed out, rocking your hips on his fingers “So eager.” He tsked, letting you grind his hand
But as soon as he was about to pull your underwear to the side, loud knocks were heard from outside.
“Open up!” A male voice said, sounding desperate.
“Fuck off!” You answered, frustratedly letting your head rest on the mirror at your back.
“I need to puke,” The guy outside knocked some more, harshly “Open the damn door.”
Jake cursed under his breath and let go of you, walking to the door before turning around again. He helped you down the counter and winked “Need to help a lady out.”
He then opened the door and the drunk guy threw himself in, reaching the wc. You didn’t want to witness whatever was going to come out of him so you quickly stepped outside.
“What a way to cockblock me.” Jake scoffed and you laughed, patting his shoulder “That’s a shame.”
You started to walk away when Jake hurried after you and took your hand “Where are you going?”
You frowned “Downstairs?” As if it was the most obvious answer.
“So, you’re going to act like I didn’t just stick my tongue in your mouth?” Jake scoffed
“I thought you just wanted a hook up?” You said, titling your head “And I ain’t going to have sex in some stranger’s bedroom, that’s nasty.”
Jake chuckled “But the bathroom is alright?” You shrugged “Better than dirty sheets.”
He then shook his head, the charming smile still on his lips “No, I don’t want just sex.” He pulled you closer by your head, brushing your hair to the side “I can settle with making out.”
You bit your bottom lip and fisted the collar of his shirt, “Bring it on.”
𓆩♡𓆪
A lot more kisses later, you and Jake sat on the grass of the backyard garden. The cold breeze hit your bare skin but even with your thin dress you weren’t bothered one bit, the alcohol in your system serving as a heater.
Your shoulders brushed against each other while you both sipped on two cans of beers— At which number you were, you weren't really sure.
“You go to a private school?” You asked as you were having a small chat with him. You two had been attached to the hip bone the whole night, getting to know the other.
You found out his family was originally from Australia, which explained the heavy accent— and that he was painfully rich.
“Yup,” He answered, popping the ‘p’ “With a uniform.” You grimaced “Don’t tell me you ever wear a blazer.”
The silence following your question made you widen your eyes “No fucking way.”
“Yes fucking way.” Jake chuckled, leaning back on his hands “It’s so ugly, I don’t look as attractive with that on.”
You laughed, “I’d like to see you.” Jake beamed back at you “Maybe one day.”
You got closer to him and whispered “Is your toilet paper made from fifty dollar bills?” At that, Jake let out a heartfelt laugh “I hope you’re not serious.”
“I’m joking.” You waved your hand, taking a sip from the can.
“What about you?” He beckoned at you, “You go to the public school? The one with the weird kids?”
“At least I don’t have blazers.” You gave him a sheepish smirk “And yes— When I go, it’s not like I attend it a lot.”
Faint music was heard from afar, but the only sound you could concentrate on was the giggle of the guy sitting next to you. His dishevelled state did little to hide the handsomeness of his face.
"You really don't give a single shit about the world?" Jake asked, shaking his head as if he could not believe you.
You just shrugged "Life's too short to give a shit." You took a sip from the can of beer "Besides, I'm still a teen only for." You counted mentally "Like, two years, why should I care about anything now? Better partying."
Jake laughed once again, perhaps the alcohol in his system making him feel better about the meeting he had to attend the next day— Shoot, he had completely forgotten about it.
The moonlight shone on your figure, making your skin seem brighter, your hair softer. Jake stared at you like you were a piece of art at a museum, to be worshipped.
His eyes fell on your small dress, a smirk spread on his face; despite knowing you for not over three hours, he felt a deep connection to you, like you could get him.
"Want to go on a date tomorrow?"
Your browns knitted "Wo, wo, wo." You said, placing your hand between the two of you, "Aren't you running a little?"
Jake licked his bottom lip, chuckling "Nothing serious, I just need you to fake being my girlfriend."
At such a statement, your brow raised "Why?" You asked and he stole the can from your hand, taking a sip as well.
You watched as he chugged down the liquid, his Adam apple in plain sight, making you feel a little light headed. He sighed and cleaned his mouth with his sleeve "You're reckless, a free spirit and you look like you smoke weed in your free time."
"Well damn, you got me." You joked, snatching the can from his hands, "You're everything my parents wouldn't like."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" You laughed and Jake got closer to your ear. "Oh darling, you bet it is."
You gulped, a shiver running through your spine "So, you just need me to meet you again tomorrow and be your fake girlfriend?" Jake nodded, "At least my acting classes won't go to waste."
Jake chuckled and nodded, caressing your thigh, his thumb brushing against your sensitive flesh "So... Will you help me anger my parents?"
You had no business accepting a drunken offer from the hot guy you made out with at a frat party, getting involved in his family matters and even fake dating him— But what could you do? You loved challenges.
"Deal."
Jake raised a brow “Really? You’d do that?” You just shrugged in response “Not like I have anything better to do.”
“That’s great,” Jake beamed, “And are you planning on going to school tomorrow?”
You raised a brow “Why?” Jake answered, “I’ll come pick you up.”
“You don’t even know what school I attend.” Jake smirked and stole your can again “Guess you’ll have to give me your number to text me the address and your schedules.”
You rolled your eyes “Just say it you want an excuse to fuck in the back of your car.”
“You don’t consider that nasty?” He raised a brow, recalling your previous comment, “Depends, if you can make me forget it with your skills.”
“Want to find out?”
𓆩♡𓆪
“You’re kidding.” Yunjin’s mouth fell agape as she took in the sight of the crimson sport car parked outside your school. You smirked knowingly as Jake waved his hand to you.
“I ain’t, baby.” You raised your brows to her, showing off. Yunjin patted your shoulder “I take back all the bad things I told you when you left me alone— I would’ve done it too.”
You laughed quietly, and was about to step further when your best friend stopped you, taking your hand. You turned around “What?”
“Are you sure you want to go?” She eyed Jake warily, scanning him, “Do you trust him?”
You let go of her hand and gave her a gentle smile “Weird, but I do.” You stated
“You were pretty drunk last night..” She trailed off “Not as much as you, I know what I did and I can tell you, he’s not dangerous.”
She looked at you a little reluctantly before nodding “Okay… Just be careful.”
You blew her a kiss and waved “Call ya later.” And then walked toward Jake. You laughed as you saw his uniform “Not the blazer.”
Jake opened his arms as if to show you his school uniform better “I promised to let you see it.”
You eyed him and then looked at the car, “What a show off.” Jake shrugged “What can I say? I wanted your friends to talk well about you.”
You rolled your eyes at his comments. Jake opened the car door and motioned you to enter it “After you.”
Jake followed right behind and got the car going, “You haven’t told me where we’re going since I need to meet your parents at dinner.”
“To buy a pretty dress for a pretty girl.” He answered, placing one hand on your thigh. The skirt you were wearing exposed your bare flesh — not as much as the day before — and the contact of his cold palm made you shiver.
“You don’t look that bad with the blazer.” You commented, settling yourself better inside the car. It was spacious, the seats were beige leather, and it felt as if the whole car had cost more than any expense you had made in your life.
“No?” He asked, the same sweet tone of the previous day returning, “No.” You stated.
“Why do I need a new dress?” You asked, “I think I have a few in my wardrobe.”
Jake chuckled “Oh, Y/N.” He shook his head, “The restaurant where we’ll have dinner is very… fancy,” He informed you, “And you’ll need a fancy dress.”
You crossed your arms on your chest “So, you just assumed I don’t own one?”
“Do you?” You answered, “No, but it’s rude that you just assumed I don’t have one just cause I’m not as rich as you.”
“That’s not what I meant.“ Jake sighed “I didn’t—“ He tried to explain but you had already looked out of the window, your mood ruined.
Silence fell in the car until Jake parked in the parking lot of the mall. You were about to exit it when you heard a ‘click’. You turned around and raised a brow “Why did you lock it?”
“So you’d listen,” His whole body was turned to face you “I did not assume a single shit, alright?”
You rolled your eyes, not wanting to hear him “Don’t bullshit me.”
“I’m not.” He stated, his stare so serious “I honestly don’t even care if you’re not rich, but I care the stares people will give you if you come wearing something normal.”
“I don’t care about them.” You frowned “Believe me, you will.” He seemed bothered by something. “They’re just… so mean, and I don’t want you to become their victim.”
You tilted your head to the side “But I need to piss them off.”
“My parents,” Jake said, “Not the people in the restaurant.”
You stayed silent a few seconds before nodding “Okay, I’ll let you buy it.”
Jake smirked, “Good girl.”
𓆩♡𓆪
You got inside a shop you had never even dared walk in front of, it smelled like a fairytale and all the assistants wore suits or elegant dresses. They all had the same forced smile and no matter how harsh a client was treating you— The assistant was always wrong.
You bit down your tongue to prevent yourself from commenting on one particular demanding lady who kept shouting at a poor guy who was obviously new and inexperienced and followed Jake into trying a few dresses on.
“Why is this so tight?” You commented, stepping out of the dressing room for what felt like the nth time.
“It’s supposed to be,” Jake said, glancing at you up and down, not even bothering to hide his hungry stare from the worker that was assisting you.
“But I can’t breathe.” You hissed, trying to move in that white dress “Maybe I should change the size?” The assistant suggested but Jake just dismissed him with his hand “No, try the other one.”
You rolled your eyes “Just another one, and then we’re going away.”
Jake raised a brow but then agreed “Fine…” He scanned the dressing room which was packed with so many dresses it looked like a princess’ wardrobe “Try the burgundy one.”
You let out a deep breath and went back into the cabin, fighting to get out of that tiny dress. You stood in your underwear, glancing at the burgundy dress that Jake suggested you wore.
It was fancy and elegant, sleeveless and short, but not too much. You had to admit it was the best one you’d seen so far, so you quickly changed into it.
“Here.” Jake said as he entered the dressing room, closing the curtain so no one could peek.
He helped you zip it up, maintaining eye contact with you from the reflection in the mirror. It felt like a dejavu of the previous night, his gaze so primal and dark.
He fixed your hair back and nodded “You look stunning, ma chérie.”
You widened your eyes at the nickname, Jake lowered to the height of your ear and whispered “Don’t you like it? We need to start acting as a couple if we want to be convincing.”
You turned around “I like it very much, baby.” You added the pet name with a smirk, making Jake chuckle.
His gaze fell on the curves of your body, the dress seeming as if it was perfectly made for you, “Damn Y/N.” He let out a deep groan “You are perfect.”
“Enough with the compliments or I might start to believe it.” Jake ran his fingers on each side of your waist. “You already do.”
You smirked, loving the way he already knew you well “Yeah, I already do.”
Suddenly, he pushed you so your back was pressed against the mirror, making you gasp. He put one hand in front of your mouth “Shh.” He demanded and you nodded.
Jake slowly sank to his knees, his palms grazing the bare flesh near your thighs. The contact made you shiver as you watched with knowing eyes what he was doing.
He slowly hooked the fabric of the dress up, so it rode just above your waistline “Jake..”
“Mh?” He hummed, his nose between your thighs as he smelled your sweet scent “What, love?”
You let out a shaky breath, “Is this some sort of pay back?” Jake chuckled quietly “You could say that.”
He hooked his fingers on the waistband of your panties and dropped them to your ankles, the air of the room hitting your bare core, making you hum.
“Can I taste you?” He asked and you nodded frantically, butterflies filling your stomach as the filthy thoughts of his following actions clouded your mind.
That eager consent was all it took him to lick a long stripe from your clit, tasting your juices. You gasped out and quickly placed a hand to muffle your sounds, not wanting the poor workers to hear the corrupted things you two had going on.
He gave kitten licks to your sensitive clit, teasing your wet folds with his free hand. Your own hand went to grasp his hair, pulling him closer to you, “Hurry.” You whined.
“Yes, ma’am.” He said before attaching his lips to your pussy, sucking on your clitorids. You let out quiet moans, still muffled by the hand you were biting, clearly some marks would appear later.
You pulled his hair and Jake stuck out his tongue, his doe eyes looking up at you. You took the hint and started grinding his tongue, the spongy texture sending waves of pleasure through your whole body.
“Oh yes,” He incited you, “Fuck my tongue, baby.” You gave up on trying to stay quiet and grasped his hair with your other hand as well, not like the filthy sounds coming from him eating you out could be blocked out.
Jake inserted two fingers inside of you, the sudden intrusion causing your body to jolt, if it wasn’t for his strong grip keeping you still you would’ve fallen over him.
Jake took one of your legs and hooked it over his shoulder, your whole pussy stretched all for him as he rubbed your sensitive bud with his tongue.
He started thrusting his digits, speeding his movements to match his tongue and damn, it felt heavenly.
“Jake—“ You gasped out, your moans loud enough for the whole shop to hear “Shh.” He shushed you, pinching your inner thigh.
You let out a soft whimper and chewed on your bottom lip to prevent yourself from moaning. Jake’s movements along with the pornographic scene unfolding in front of you was what took you to the edge, falling apart on his tongue with a loud gasp.
Your body quivered and Jake helped you riding out of your high. He detached his lips from your pussy, a string of saliva keeping them connected. Spit and your juices coated his chin as he got back on his feet, cleaning his face with the sleeve of his suit. “That was amazing.”
You smacked his shoulder lightly, still panting “You’re crazy— They heard us.”
Jake pulled you into a heated kiss, his dirty fingers wrapping around your throat, not adding any pressure, but enough to keep you still.
He rubbed his hard bulge on your stomach, needing to ease the aching feeling coming from it “Don’t act like you didn’t like it.”
You eyed him as he pulled away, your stare falling down to the evident hard on he had. You felt a little pitiful. “Let me help you.”
You were about to get on your knees when Jake stopped you, a warm smile on his face “No, don’t.”
You tilted your head in confusion “Why? You clearly need to fix it.”
Jake hummed “And I’ll do it in the bathroom, because if you want to help me, I wouldn't use your throat, baby.” His fingers traced the outline of your jaw “And I’m sure you don’t want it here.”
𓆩♡𓆪
As Jake helped you get ready and drove to the destination of the mission, you started to believe that was some kind of mockery.
The houses in your neighbourhood were half of the ones in Jake’s, all of them had at least one swimming pool and useless expensive cars.
You scoffed as you drove past them, making Jake smile. He put his hand on your thigh and caressed it “Let’s review what we said.”
You rolled your eyes “Act like a couple and make your parents believe it, just be me and use my sharp tongue to piss them off, possibly have sex later.”
Jake raised his brows in surprise “I didn’t know about the last point.”
You smiled proudly, “I just added it.” You took the hand he had on your thigh and slowly accompanied it higher, almost near your dangerous zone “Like it?”
“I’m driving, Y/N.” He scolded with the same deep voice he used to flirt. Damn, if it didn’t turn you on “And I ain’t doing anything.”
Jake placed his hand a little further “There won’t be any sex if we die in a car crash.” You crossed your arms on your chest “You’re so dramatic.”
He just let out a small chuckle and you two continued the drive in a comfortable silence. As soon as he reached the location, he killed the engine and got out of the car, reaching your side and opening the door for you “After you, ma chérie.”
You shook your head at his pet name and took his hand, walking out the door “These heels are killing my feet.” You complained, stumbling a little.
Jake wrapped one arm around your waist, supporting you. He leaned down to whisper in your ear “You look amazing.”
You shivered at his deep voice, his breath hitting your sensitive skin. “You look like someone I want to give head to.”
Jake let out another deep chuckle and you both made your way toward the fancy restaurant.
He stopped you before you could put foot in it, spinning you around so you were facing him. You tilted your head in a puzzled way, “What?”
He let out a small sigh “Promise me you won’t take anything they say by heart.” You stayed still for a moment before bursting out, laughing “Are you actually worried?”
Jake clicked his tongue “I’m serious Y/N. Whatever they say, don’t mind it.”
You just shrugged “I don’t even care what they say,” You wrapped your arms around his neck, mumbling on his lips “I’m here to help you, you don’t worry about me.”
His grip on your waist tightened, just a little “I just feel like I dragged you here… You were drunk when I asked and—“ Before he could even finish his sentence, you shushed him with your lips on his, licking his bottom lip.
Despite the sudden action, Jake kissed you back, one hand holding your scalp so he could deepen it.
However, you were interrupted by someone clearing their throat. You both pulled away and Jake widened his eyes “Father.”
You gulped down, noting the way his father didn’t even resemble him at all. Jake wasn't tall, but that man towered him by a lot. Jake’s features were soft, his eyes warm as a hot chocolate in winter— while his father’s were sharp, cold as ice.
He took hold of your hand, Mister Sim’s dark gaze falling onto your intertwined hands. “You’re late.” He just stated, monotone.
“Traffic.” Jake answered back in a voice you’ve never heard before— uncomfortable even.
“Seems like you were busy with something else.” His father’s gaze fell onto you, probably trying to intimidate you. You just raised a challenging brow in response.
“Your mother and I have been waiting for you. Hurry.” Mister Sim turned around and walked ahead of you. Before following him, you squeezed Jake’s hand and gave him a warm smile “Mission start.”
The whole restaurant screamed rich, with all those big chandeliers, candles and even a piano in the middle of the room, where a pianist was playing some classical music you had never even heard before.
As you arrived at the designed table, Mister Sim sat down beside his wife. Your eyes fell on the petite woman, looking like the copy-paste of her son.
“Mother.” Jake greeted, bowing slightly out of respect. You did the same, flashing a fake smile “Pleasure to meet you.” Miss Sim just nodded, beckoning you to sit down.
After ordering some food, Jake’s parents started questioning him while your gaze went to the table, noticing the amount of forks on it.
“Useless.” You commented a little too loud, because his father asked “Pardon?”
You raised your gaze to meet his “What do you need so many forks for? Just use one.” You raised one from the table, making him see
Jake chokes down a laugh, earning a warning stare from his mother “You’ve never been to a fancy restaurant, dear?”
You just shrugged, placing the fork down “Not my go to. I prefer some nice burgers, cheaper.”
Jake’s mother made a shocked, almost offended expression “You’ll get fat if you eat such rubbish.”
“So? Fat but happy.” You commented, patting at your stomach. Miss Sim eyed you as if you had just personally offended her.
Fortunately, the waiter interrupted you as he served the plates. In front of you there was a steak (something you couldn’t usually afford), but that same steak was the size of a nut. Literally, it was so tiny.
Jake noticed your expression and leaned down to whisper “We’ll buy a burger later.” You smiled and whispered back “I’d rather you eating me.”
“Whispering at the table is rude.” His mother commented, cutting a small piece of the already small steak.
“What was your name again, dear?” You mentally prepared yourself to be as rude as possible and answered “Y/N.”
“Right, Y/N.” Miss Sim nodded as if she had known your name before, which you knew she hadn’t “How old are you?”
“Just turned eighteen, Ma’am.” You said, placing down the fork “Oh, so you’re the same age as my son.” She flashed you a fake smile, looking like one of those dogs that seem so sweet but bite as soon as you try to pet them.
“I’ve always told Jake to date older girls, you know, they’re… wiser.” You raised a brow “So, you’re saying I’m dumb just because I ain’t older than him?”
Jake’s mother widened her eyes, “Not at all.” You gave her a fake smile “I was just joking.”
She laughed as well. “Of course, you have such a playful personality.”
“Too playful.” Mister Sim commented, clearing his throat “And where do you live? Your parents, what do they do for a living?”
You replied with your neighbourhood and your parents' jobs, earning some concerning stares from the two adults at the table, who were as mature as a two-year-old.
“We will have to start thinking about marriage, Jake will inherit our company.” Jake sighed, “Mother..” Miss Sim started, cleaning the corner of her mouth with the tissue “Do you want to get married? And kids?”
His father then added “Are you two sexually active?”
At such words, Jake fisted his hand under the table. You noticed and put one of your hands on his.
“Why—“ Before he could say something, you talked over “What does that even matter?” You asked, raising a brow.
“That’s my life, if I wanted to get married or have kids, that’s my choice to make. And that counts for Jake as well.” You frowned. Jake took your hand in his and squeezed it to give you support.
“You are two stereotyped jerks, and I’m being nice.” You earned a scoff from Mister Sim “How dare—“
“No, I’m the one talking now.” You snapped, “I’ve been sitting here for one hour, hearing all your bullshit. You rich people disgust me.”
You got up, receiving all the attention of the people in the restaurant, “You’re so stereotyped, you only care about money, get a fucking grip.”
Mister Sim’s eyes widened at your sudden outburst “Don’t you use such ugly words.”
“I do what I want, and I say this dinner is done.” You turned around, but Jake stayed put.
“You choose her?” Miss Sim asked with her best victim voice, ready to guilt trip her own son.
Jake had stayed silent the whole time, watching the scene unfold in front of his eyes. He gulped down, slowly raising his eyes to meet his parents’ “I don’t choose anyone, mother, because I am not ungrateful to turn my back to you.” He said, a sparkle of pride in your chest, “I agree with all she said, though.”
Jake smirked, “Yes, I’m a disgrace, but I don’t give a single shit about it.”
Said that, he took your hand again and dragged you outside.
As soon as you were out, you both stared at each other before bursting into a big and heartfelt laugh “Did I overdo it?” You asked and Jake shook his head “You did a great job.”
He drove you to your neighbourhood, the difference between the place you had just been and the restaurants in your side of the town was huge. It almost made you feel a shame, but then again why would you even need to be? That was your life and you loved it.
After having some burgers to your favourite street food place, making Jake taste your most treasured guilty pleasure, he parked the car in a nearby parking and helped you get out, holding your heels in his hand since you took them off, being too uncomfortable for your used-to-converse feet.
He walked you until your house, stopping as you reached its front. “I should go inside.”
Jake nodded and handed you the heels, “Seriously Y/N. Thank you so much.” He said sincerely, “I don’t even know why you agreed to this, but you said all the things I was too afraid to say.”
He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, then caressing your cheek with his thumb “And you keep this dress. Maybe you’ll need it someday.”
“It costs more than my house.” You commented, making Jake chuckle “But it looks great on you.”
“So… no crazy sex in the car?” You asked and he shook his head “Isn’t that nasty?” He teased you.
“Hey,” You said, faking being offended. “Said the one who wears a blazer to school.”
“Oh.” He raised his hands in surrender. “You win.”
Jake took a hold of your waist and dragged you toward him, pressing his lips onto yours. The kiss was slow, much deeper than a normal goodbye one. It held so many emotions and care, you almost melted right there.
He then pulled away, licking his lips as if to take all the taste of you “Get inside, it’s getting cold.”
You looked up at him, your eyes sparkling “I’ll see you again?”
“Of course, ma chérie.” He smiled, kissing the corner of your lip “I still have to show you my bed skills.”
You chuckled and pushed his chest playfully “I’m much better than you.”
“Can’t know until you show me.” He winked and watched as you headed inside, his smile never leaving his face.
And neither did yours leave, for once you felt the happiest girl in the world, kicking your feet under the blanket and dreaming of the sensation his kisses brought you.
However, you should’ve listened to Yunjin’s warning about you getting yourself hurt in the end, because the next Saturday, when your eyes met Jake’s again at Heeseung’s new party and you smiled ever so sweetly at him— his stare diverted, smiling at another pretty girl, too pretty for your own likings.
And that was where you realised your heart was the shattered one.
#enhypen#enhypen fics#enhypen smut#enhypen au#sim jake#jake scenarios#sim jake fics#jake fics#sim jaeyun#jaeyun enhypen#jake enhypen#sim jaeyun fics#sim jaeyun smut#jake smut#jake sim smut#jake sim#sim jake scenarios#sim jake enhypen#enhypen jake#jaeyun x reader#jaeyun imagines#sim jake x reader#jake x reader#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen x reader#jake hard thoughts#jake hard hours#sim jake hard thoughts
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“Babyyyyyyy!”
Aliens witness humans going “Babyyyy” when they see other animals and mistakenly believe that humans are liable to believe ANYTHING is a member of their young if it acts/appears similar enough; this has resulted in MULTIPLE cases where aliens leave their children at human orphanages instead of on their own world because of humanity’s pack bonding ability and it becomes some huge scandal where aliens are like.
“Manipulating them into taking care of our own young is immoral”
and
“Have you seen humanity? The moment they figure out what we’re doing, they’re freak out and go on a murder spree!”
Meanwhile, humanity is just like ‘sweet, we’re taking care of alien kids... we can handle this :)’
Bonus points if a human brings something like a puppy on board a ship and call it by saying ‘babyyyy!~’ and, despite knowing that it is DEFINITELY not a human infant, they try to treat it as such despite the fact that it is not a human.
Humanity appreciates this.
#humans are space orcs#space orcs#humans are deathworlders#humans are weird#earth is space austrailia#humans are space Australians
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I read a physical copy of monstrous regiment soon after listening to the audiobook, and I noticed two tiny discrepancies between the two editions that make an absolute world of difference. when I found out that these discrepancies existed (you’ll find reddit posts backing me up about them), I felt cheated that my first experience of the book had portrayed a less cohesive arc than pratchett intended
if you’re looking to buy or read monstrous regiment, I strongly recommend the doubleday 2003 version or the corgi 2004 version, which iirc contain the original text. The harper collins publications and audiobook both contain these changes, which imo are confusing and severely undercut the themes the book is trying to get across. if anyone knows the status of other editions of the book pls feel free to add on
obviously the audiobooks and ebooks are more accessible than physical books to some people, so if you read one of those just know that the original text is different in some key ways. I still recommend you read the book because it’s crazy good :)
the changes I noticed, beneath the cut to avoid some serious spoilers:
firstly, the last line of Jackrum’s last scene. in the Doubleday version, this line reads:
“Jackrum had turned her chair to the fire, and had settled back. Around him, the kitchen worked.”
in the harpercollins version, the line reads:
“Jackrum had turned her chair the the fire, and had settled back. Around her, the kitchen worked.”
this pronoun change is actually has huge implications. in the scene in question, jackrum, a transgender man, reveals that he joined the army in disguise. he is referred to as “she” throughout his background reveal. however, he then considers where his future will take him, and in the final line of the scene his pronoun reverts back to “he.” jackrum’s pronoun goes from he->she->he, encapsulating the gendery arc of the scene. however, in the altered he->she->she version of the scene, half of that circle is erased. the neat tie-up of jackrum’s journey is left confusingly unresolved, and the importance of his gender to the book’s overarching themes goes underemphasized
the second change I noticed is how maladict appears in the book’s ending:
in the Doubleday version, maladict appears “in full uniform.”
in the harpercollins version, maladict appears “in full female uniform.”
maladict is the last soldier to reveal [their] true gender, keeping up a masc/ambiguous presentation far after all the rest of the squad has come forward as women. “in full uniform” maintains this ambiguity, allowing the reader to decide for themself whether maladict comes forward and presents as fully female or continues to dress masculinely despite the fact that circumstances no longer require it (in fact I believe that the latter is more likely, as maladict says “thought I’d try again,” which could mean dressing in male uniform again). “in full female uniform” removes that ambiguity, and brings maladict’s arc to a somewhat unsatisfying conclusion. it eliminates the possibility of maladict as transgender or gender-non-conforming, and I’m left wondering, “if maladict presents as female so readily, why make such a fuss of it before now?”
both changes undermine the book’s message by eliminating its space for non-cisnormative identity… which is kinda crucial to the whole idea. im honestly really disappointed that these changes were made in any version of the book, because whoever made them clearly didn’t get the point
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daisy (english profrry x TA!yn)
part one of english profrry is here!!!!!
word count: 6.3k
BIG content warnings: massive, glaring warning for an inappropriate relationship. y/n is a graduate student in this and of legal consenting age, but there's an age gap of four years between her and harry. she is his TA, which means there's a big power imbalance between them. bc this is fic we'll pretend it's romantic and all very consensual but if this is triggering to you in any way, DO NOT READ IT. it's not worth hurting your mental health. also, if anything remotely like this happens in your personal life, IT IS NOT OKAY.
other CWs: small smut scene at the end (m masturbation with descriptions of m receiving oral, slight cum play), y/n alludes to having seasonal depression but it's never outwardly said (just be aware since the descriptions of it could be triggering to some!), a bit of angst but nothing crazy
with all that out of the way, if you still choose to read, I hope you enjoy :) love you all lots!!
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. . .
Professor Styles is a dick.
That’s what the entire English department said when it was announced that Y/N would be his newest teaching assistant for the spring semester.
They all sneered at her, throwing what they pretended to be caring warnings her way, claiming that he was impossible to work with and he didn’t even actually need a TA, he just liked picking students to embarrass. With their noses upturned at Y/N but not actually offering any kind of advice, she left the small English building shortly after the Dean unveiled the new schedule for TAs, anxiety bubbling in her stomach and thick, salty tears in her waterline.
She knows Professor Styles doesn’t have the greatest reputation on campus. She actually actively avoided taking any classes with him throughout the duration of her bachelor’s degree, and even as she chose to stay on to enter her first year of graduate school, she picked any other available professors over him.
He was known for his less-than-personable demeanor and the way he picked apart students’ essays, leaving them questioning their entire life path. Y/N has never felt much insecurity about her career — she’s always wanted to go into English, maybe opting for a small but impactful job in publishing or editing — but having a professional ruin her writing sounded… well, awful.
In reality, Y/N didn’t have much of a choice when it came to her teaching assistant preferences. She needed a job that wouldn’t take up too much of her time. Her first semester of grad school was difficult and stressful. All of her friends graduated and went on to cool jobs all over the country, while Y/N just stayed in the same apartment. She was homesick for her family and walked through a campus every day that reminded her of a better version of herself — one who had a flourishing social life and excellent grades. Just a few months of working on her masters degree had worn her down.
Despite the slight dip in her grades from university to graduate school (an expected change, her advisor had explained), she was still recommended as a TA for the English department in the spring. She’d really been gunning after Professor Rooney, a kind, middle-aged woman who had spent years working glamorous jobs in the publishing world. She had connections everywhere and was incredibly sweet, and Y/N knew she would feel comfortable working in her sections for the semester. All winter break, she imagined how wonderful it could be; that maybe it was the huge win she needed after such a shitty fall.
But Professor Rooney didn’t choose her. Professor Styles did.
Even with a promise of a reasonable stipend contingent on the completion of her TA position, Y/N’s world felt like it came crashing down just a little bit — but she knew better than to complain or blubber on about not getting her way. Instead, she chose to just get through it.
In the final days of winter break, Professor Styles emailed her to meet in his office the day before classes began. He didn’t ask if she was back on campus or if she had a good break. Y/N wanted to resent that, but chose to swallow it down.
When she got to his small office in the department, she gently knocked on the open door, signaling her arrival. He peered up from whatever book he was hunched over on his deck, straightened his posture, and checked his watch.
“You’re late.” he said flatly, shutting the paperback with a force she didn’t even know was possible. With furrowed brows, she glanced at the lockscreen on the phone she held.
“You said 10:30, right? It’s 10:30 now.”
“On time is late,” he muttered, folding his hands on his desk, “Early is on time.”
She swallowed, her lips parting like a guppy. He rolled his eyes and motioned to the seat on the other side of her desk. Quickly, she took it, placing her tote bag at her feet and making a mental reminder to arrive at his classes five minutes early from this point on.
“Right, so you’re my TA, then?”
She nodded, “Yes, for the spring semester.”
He hummed, though she couldn’t tell if it was a sound of approval or discontent. He moved his computer mouse over the surface of the university provided mouse pad, making his computer buzz to life. With an awkward silence settling between them, the sound of the mouse clicking was the only thing that filled the dim office.
“You just graduated from the English department last spring,” he said, eyes scanning over what she now assumed was her student file, “3.8 GPA. That’s fine.”
She blinked at that, resisting the urge to balk at him. 3.8 was .2 away from a perfect GPA. It was more than fine.
“You didn’t take any classes with me during your time as an undergrad.”
“Um, your sections were always full—”
“I don’t really care what your reasoning is,” he cut her off, continuing to scroll down the screen. A lump formed in her throat but she tried to swallow it down. Nothing sounded more embarrassing than crying in front of Professor Styles. “And now you’re getting your masters in English with a concentration in Feminist Literature. That’s an unusual one. Why?”
She’s surprised he’s bothered to ask her a question, so it takes her a moment to form a cohesive answer on her tongue. She’s flailing a bit and she knows he can tell, based on the unamused expression on his face.
“I’ve read a lot of literature where there’s a female main character and she’s just used to state a point or some sort of backwards lesson that was considered modernized for the time,” Y/N speaks softly, picking at her nails in her lap, “I’m interested in studying that more.”
“What kind of literature?” Professor Styles instantly fires back.
“Well, I wrote my undergraduate thesis on The Scarlet Letter, but I’ve also been thinking about basing my graduate capstone on Ophelia from Hamlet.”
He makes that annoying humming noise again, and she’s still unsure if he’s pleased or thinks she’s an idiot. She wasn’t unused to the latter — a lot of snobs in the English department thought it was stupid of her to care for critiquing older pieces of writing from an argumentative, feminist perspective, even if they acted like The Odyssey was an “absolute must-read” for everyone.
(It’s not. Y/N thinks The Odyssey is dumb and boring, but she’ll never say that, especially not to Professor Styles.)
“Right, well,” he lifts a white ceramic coffee cup to his mouth and swallows briefly. She glances down to see he’s drinking hot black coffee, and her lips furl into a quick, involuntary wince. “You’ll be with me three days a week. You are to attend the daily lectures — Mondays and Wednesdays are the shorter section and Friday is the long, three-hour one. Helping out with grading and holding office hours will be your primary tasks. If you fall ill or need to take a day off, I need at least 24 hours notice. If I receive any complaints from students, you’re out. Otherwise, it should be a fine semester. Any questions?”
She shakes her head, hoping he’ll show some inkling of delight at her quick ability to understand and process. Instead, his lips remain in a flat line and he nods, taking another sip of his coffee.
“You can go now. See you tomorrow.”
She scrambles to leave his office as quickly as possible.
. . .
Professor Styles barely speaks to Y/N for the first few weeks.
It’s unsettling in a way, especially because she doesn’t know if she’s doing a good job. She thrives off of reassurance, but every time she hands him a neat stack of newly graded papers or drafts, he simply waves her off with an, “alright, thanks.”
If she’s being honest, it makes her want to try even harder, though she’s not entirely sure why. She has the urge to claw her way to the very top of Professor Styles’ repertoire of students and assistants — a need for perfectionism that can only be quelled by the person least likely to give it to her.
And it’s driving her absolutely insane.
She wants to ask, straight out, “am I doing an alright job? Do you need anything more from me?”, but she’s positive that will only make her glow with insecurity. He’d probably laugh in her face and call her a baby for needing his acceptance.
It eats her alive as she sits at the front of the lecture hall, watching his female students stare at him with hearts in their eyes as he discusses the politics of Ursula Le Guin. It bugs her only more than he's one of the most attractive people she's ever seen, always impeccably dressed with long, ring-clad fingers.
Grumbling, she realizes that she probably looks just as pathetic, so she quickly straightens her posture and runs her fingertips over the mousepad of her laptop so it glows back to life. She’s supposed to be going over the grades of the students’ first essays — her and Professor Styles were meeting after class to discuss them in the event that anyone needed additional assistance for the upcoming paper.
She busies herself with that until he ends class, creating a list of a few names that would potentially need to be met with one-on-one. He doesn’t say anything as he gathers his own materials from the lecture, and she follows him out of the hall and to his office just as silently, carrying her laptop in one hand and her tote bag on her shoulder.
Professor Styles’ office is always cold and dark, never failing to send a shiver down her spine when he unlocks the door. Today, her shoulders shudder involuntarily and she pushes her sweater sleeves down to cover her hands. With a rumple in his eyebrows, he sits down.
“What’s the matter?” he asks.
Y/N snaps her head up in surprise. She doesn’t mean to look shocked, so she quickly revises her facial features in an attempt to look collected.
“Oh, it’s just cold,” she says, waving him off nonchalantly, “I’m fine.”
“Yeah. I think this winter has been especially brutal.”
His reply especially dazes her — she’s unsure if that’s an attempt at making small talk, something Professor Styles has never done with her before, but she instantly nods her head, as if she’s speaking with a toddler who’s expressing their emotions for the first time.
“Yeah, I think so,” she says softly, “The snow is awful to walk through.”
“Do you live far from campus?”
She shakes her head and sets her laptop and planner on her side of the desk, across from Professor Styles and his things.
“No, just a 10 minute walk or so, but I don’t have a car.”
He hums at that — that stupid, unassuming hum that contributes absolutely nothing to the conversation. She wonders if she’s in her head about it, but she feels his eyes linger just a beat longer on her face before tearing them away. He licks over his teeth as he taps on his laptop to wake it back up.
“Right, then. Did you go over their grades?”
As she pulls her things out from her bag, she tries to ignore the small pit of disappointment in her tummy from Professor Styles shifting their conversation back over to class.
. . .
That weekend, Y/N thinks she’s hallucinating as she meanders up and down the aisles at Target.
She’s not really looking for anything in particular. Sometimes she just comes here for something to do. Her bank account isn't exactly flowing in a way that permits her to buy all the cute home decor she gazes at, which is why her basket currently consists of the following: pads, a new pack of her favorite gel pens, cookie dough, and a lip balm that she’ll probably put back before she checks out.
It’s another harsh, cold day out, the freezing temperatures refusing to let up as the days of the month flit by. This is Y/N’s least favorite time of year — when winter sticks around despite the holidays being long gone. All that’s left between now and spring is pesky snow and fake Hallmark holidays, and she yearns for the days where she can walk to campus and admire the tulips peeking out from the damp soil. By then, she’ll be closer to returning to her hometown for the summer, where she’ll likely get a job for a few months working in the local library or bookstore.
It’ll be good — she’ll get to see her friends and spend time with family and save up some money, and maybe the hopefulness of life warming up in a few months will be enough to get her through this semester.
And as she’s daydreaming of brighter days, that’s when it happens — when she thinks she must be fully hallucinating, because as she strolls down one aisle in particular, Professor Styles is standing there, his bottom lip pinched between his fingers as he stares at space heaters.
She’s never seen him off campus. Sometimes that happens since a lot of professors live close by, so it’s not unheard of to pass by an advisor or faculty member at the supermarket or through the park. But seeing Professor Styles here feels… illegal, somehow, especially given his casual, dressed down attire. He’s wearing what looks to be a cozy sweatshirt and a pair of athletic shorts, despite the temperature nearing the 20s today. (Y/N is bundled up in three sweaters, a jacket, a scarf, gloves, and leggings beneath her jeans.) White socks go just above his ankles, and the running shoes on his feet make her wonder if he’s insane enough to actually be working out in this weather.
She must be analyzing his form for a beat too long — maybe it’s the shock from it that still hasn’t worn off — because he feels her gaze, eyes veering to his peripheral, realizing that his teaching assistant is standing there as if she’s waiting for permission to enter the aisle.
“Hey,” she blurts out when she realizes she’s been caught.
Confused by her frank, laidback greeting, he lifts his head to face her. “Hey.” he echoes awkwardly.
“Um, sorry.”
He quirks an eyebrow and Y/N’s body heats with embarrassment. “Sorry?”
“Sorry… I-I should’ve just walked away when I saw you,” Y/N quickly attempts to revise, but she realizes it’s just making her sound stupider, “I was just surprised to see you here.”
“In a public store?”
“Right,” she nods curtly, turning on her heel, “Have a good rest of your weekend—”
“Wait, did you need something down here?” he rushes out, almost as if he’s fearful she’ll leave. She pushes the thought down but parts her lips nervously, eyes scanning over the contents on the shelves. She doesn’t need anything, she was just putting off having to brave the cold weather on her walk home.
“Yes,” she says slowly because, once again, she’s suddenly stupefied and enamored by the prospect of small talk with Professor Styles, “I needed… lighters. For my candles.”
He nods, a quiet “ah,” sounding from his lips, and they stand there like they’re doing some sort of parallel play; Y/N pretending to look at the long, safety lighters while Professor Styles continues to look at space heaters. She wonders if he for some reason is pretending, too, but then he’ll squat down to look at the features on one box, making a tsk-ing noise with his mouth, and straighten back up to analyze a different model.
When he finally decides on an option that’s best fit, he grabs the box and places it in his cart. Quickly, Y/N plucks a random display of lighters and throws them in her basket.
“Hope you found a good one,” she mutters out dumbly, feeling the need to interject one last sentence into their silence. He glances down at his cart, then at her basket, and then, finally, at her.
“It’s for the office,” he says. “You said it was cold.”
“Oh. Yeah.”
“This should help with that.”
“Sure, yeah. I have one at home, it helps a lot with the draftiness.”
“That’s what I’m hoping for.”
“Maybe you can get an extra lamp in there, too. Spruce it up a bit.”
A wrinkle forms between his brows, “What do you mean?”
Y/N wishes the ground would swallow her up whole.
“Nothing! I just meant— like, sometimes it’s a bit cold, and with the weather, it can get dark, too. The winter’s tough, don’t you think? That’s all I meant, I’m sorry—”
“No, you’re right,” he says with a decisive nod. “You’re the only other person that really spends time there besides students. Do you want to help pick one out?”
“Sure, okay.”
They walk in silence to the lighting display, which is filled with a myriad of different options. Professor Styles looks semi-overwhelmed by it all and Y/N has to bite her lip so she doesn’t smile too widely at his confused expression. She points to a simple, inexpensive standing lamp.
“I think something like this would be good, in the corner or something. Just for some extra brightness.”
“Is that the one you like?”
Y/N doesn’t have strong lamp preferences, especially when it comes to a space that she’s not even living in, but for some reason, it seems important that she says yes. So she nods her head, flashing him a small smile. He returns it, and she realizes that’s the first time he’s ever smiled at her.
“Okay. I’ll have this stuff set up for when you come in on Monday.”
She swallows, feeling the mountain of adoration in her stomach grow. She shoves it down.
“Thank you, that’s really kind of you,” she says.
“Sure. I’ll see you then. Have a good rest of your weekend.”
She hides in the lamp aisle for another 15 minutes, until she’s positive he’s left the store.
. . .
Professor Styles and Y/N are working in their typical silence when he says something that makes her jaw nearly drop to the floor.
She thought that after their short but personable interaction at the store, things would change a bit. Maybe he would feel more comfortable talking to her outside of monotone grunts or the occasional “are they failing my class?”, but things remained the same. When she came in that Monday, the space heater and lamp were both on and running as he promised, but it was as if nothing happened.
It irks Y/N to no end.
She assumes that he sincerely doesn’t care for her, which she supposes is fine considering kindness or approval aren’t part of the job description. That’s why she’s shocked when he says it a few weeks after the weekend they saw one another in public.
“I think you should ask to change your advisor to me.”
Y/N chokes on her spit, hurriedly coughing into her hand so she doesn’t spray saliva all over his desk. Once she recovers, he’s staring at her expectedly, as if what he said was completely and utterly sane.
“Sorry?” she asks, “Why would I do that?”
She doesn’t mean it to sound rude, but it’s a genuine question. Typically, there’s some type of rapport between a grad student and their advisor, and she and Professor Styles have absolutely none of that.
Professor Styles clears his throat and folds his hands on his desk. “Because I got my masters degree in the same thing, so I spent four years studying exactly what you’re studying. I think you’ve been doing very well as my TA and I would like to advise you.”
“Why would you ask me why I was studying that, then?” she blurts out, confusion apparent on her face. “The first day we met, you told me it was unusual.”
“It is.”
“But you studied it.”
“I did.”
“So why would you say that?”
Professor Styles sighs as if this is the most boring and obvious conversation he’s had all day.
“I wanted to hear you defend it. See why you’re interested and make sure it’s not all bullshit.”
Y/N shakes her head, “So you were playing some kind of mind game with me? For fun?”
“It wasn’t a mind game, Y/N. I just wanted to know why you’re interested in it.”
She bites her lip and looks down at her laptop screen, which has since gone dim since they began talking. If she’s being truthful, she’s grown tired of Professor Styles. Up until now, she was positive she was doing things wrong and he just didn’t care enough to correct her — only to find out that he wanted to work with her even more. It made zero sense.
“Are you going to do it, then?” he asks, tearing her from her thoughts. Her expression pinches as she rolls her lips into a thin line.
“I don’t know.” she answers in a watery voice. “I like my advisor, and I assumed you didn’t like me very much.”
His eyebrows furrow. “Why wouldn’t I like you?”
“You barely utter three words to me on a daily basis and never tell me if you’re happy with my work.”
Professor Styles scoffs, leaning back against his leather computer chair.
“You need regular approval from me to know whether or not I like you?”
“Yes,” she admits, anger building in her chest until she can’t help but blurt out what she’s thinking, “It’s how I work. If you were a good professor, you would’ve asked how I best function at the beginning of the semester. Instead, you ignore me for fun.”
“You don’t think I’m a good professor.”
She sighs and shakes her head. “I didn’t mean that. I think you are. I just don’t think you’re the best at managing teaching assistants.”
He shrugs, but she notices a slight wince in his features. “We can’t all be good at everything, can we?”
“Right,” she mumbles, drumming her fingers on the edge of his desk. When he doesn’t reply, she shuts her laptop and stuffs it in her bag. “I’m gonna go then. I’ll see you next week.”
He’s silent as she gets her things together and pulls her jacket on, wrapping her scarf around her neck and zipping it on top of her sweater for extra warmth. As her boots carry her across the length of his office and to the door, he stands from his seat.
“Y/N,” he says, and she turns to look at him. “The deadline to change your advisor is next Friday. I hope you’ll still consider it.”
. . .
That evening, all Harry can think about is his sweet, quiet TA. The one who he undoubtedly offended earlier today — he cringes at the thought of it, replaying their conversation over and over in his head. He can’t stop thinking about the upset look on her face. When she asked if he was playing mind games with her, he wanted to get down on his knees and beg for her forgiveness. He never meant to hurt her, not one bit.
He sighs as he runs his hand through his hair. He’s had reruns of some shitty sitcom on since he got home from work a few hours ago. He didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts, but even a laugh track and ‘90s era merriment couldn’t distract him from thinking about her.
He considers the things she said about wanting his approval. He’s never been well-liked in the English department, likely because of his rough exterior. He’s not immune to the things he hears from students and faculty, about how he’s grumpy and someone to be feared, even if he didn’t even intend to come off that way. In all honesty, he never wanted to be perceived in that matter — but once his reputation began to precede him a year or two ago, he figured there was no use in trying to convince people otherwise.
That's how it had always gone, anyway — in high school, when he started experimenting with different styles of clothing, everyone assumed he was gay. He'd desperately tried to refute those claims, even if he wasn't completely sure of his sexuality himself. But no one cared — they'd already made up their minds, and it seemed useless to attempt to change their ways of thinking.
And when people spoke here, mumbling about how mean and terrible he was... well, what was the point?
Y/N was the only person he cared to win over, and it was eating him alive.
So much so that he made the blind decision to maybe, possibly cross a very clear boundary between professor and TA. Despite Y/N being of legal, consenting age (after looking at her student file, he found that he’s only four years older), he still attempted to prioritize maintaining a professional relationship with every one of his students and TAs.
He couldn’t help himself with her, though. He knew it was bad — he could feel his heart thumping quickly in his chest, the logical part of his brain telling him to stop while he’s ahead, but he couldn’t. Not as he grabbed his laptop, logged into his work email, and composed a message to her student address. Not when his fingers danced over the keyboard and resisted the urge to implore her to start fresh with him. Not when he clicked ‘send’ without even proofreading to make sure it sounded appropriate, not creepy or weird.
He pushed his laptop away and got up to pour himself some wine, attempting to rid himself of any lingering guilt.
. . .
From: [email protected]
Subject: Today
Time: 9:57 p.m.
Hi Y/N,
I wanted to apologize for how I acted today. It wasn’t kind of me and you deserve far better than that. I understand if you have no interest in changing your advisor. Please know that whatever you decide, your TA position will not be in danger, should you choose to continue working with me.
Thank you for all of your hard work. You’ve been doing an excellent job and I’ve very much enjoyed having you this semester. Have a good weekend.
x Harry Styles
. . .
On Monday, Y/N’s mind is whirring.
It’s not because the semester is nearing midterm season, although that’s part of it. It’s because Professor Styles emailed her an apology at almost 10 pm on Friday evening, and she’s repeatedly read it over at least 50 times since receiving it.
She didn’t reply because she wasn’t sure what to say — and, most shockingly, he didn’t sign it as Professor Styles. Instead, he ended the message with a kiss, for crying out loud, followed by his name. His name!
It’s all she’s been able to focus on for days, to the point where she contemplates not showing up to his lecture on Monday. But she’s better than that — she’s stronger, and she’s smarter, and she doesn’t want to hide.
She avoids Professor Styles’ gaze all throughout his lecture, instead focusing on grading first drafts for the class’ midterm paper. She knows she’ll have to sit with him in his office afterwards, and her stomach churns at the thought. In some way, she feels ashamed that she said anything to begin with. Her comments about him not managing TAs properly have made her shrivel into a mortified version of herself, and she’s shocked he didn’t fire her on the spot.
Worst of all, she hates the way her heart jumped into her throat when his name popped up on her screen on Friday night. She craved the feeling, hoping he would, for some reason, do it again, even though she never responded. She wasn’t playing hard to get by any means, but the fact that her brain even veered in that direction proved one thing to be true: she has a big, fat crush on Professor Styles.
The knowledge sits like a rock in her stomach, especially as they walk in silence to his office after class. The air between them feels awkward, but she’s not sure that there’s ever been a time where it hasn’t felt odd between them. When he unlocks the door, she quietly steps inside, her heart skipping a beat at the space heater and lamp already turned on.
Usually, he keeps the door open while they work. Today, he shuts it, the soft click of the lock making her jump.
“Can we talk?”
Y/N’s throat dries but she nods, gripping the strap of her tote bag close to her arm. She turns to face him, and for the first time ever, she notices that he looks… nervous.
“About last week. I’m sorry, but I’m even more sorry for emailing you that on Friday,” he rushes the words out like he wrote a script out and was waiting to perform them, “It was completely inappropriate, and I got the hint when you didn’t reply.”
“The hint?” she peeps out, her voice squeaky and embarrassing.
“Yeah,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest, “About not wanting me to advise you and… you probably found my email to be weird, right?”
Quickly, she shakes her head. “No, no. I.. I actually haven’t given much thought to the advisor thing, but I didn’t think it was weird. I just didn’t know how to respond.”
His eyebrows furrow, “Why’s that?”
“Because I felt guilty about what I said to begin with! A-and you could’ve fired me if you wanted to, but instead you apologized and said that I’m doing a good job—”
“You are.”
“Exactly!” she exclaims frustratedly. “I didn’t know how to respond to that.”
“To me being… kind?”
“Yes.”
He blinks at her, the crinkle between his brows deepening.
“I’m just not used to it, Professor Styles.” she says with a sigh.
“Harry,” he corrects.
“What?”
“My name is Harry. I don’t want you to call me Professor Styles.”
Y/N ignores the quickening of her heartbeat and shifts her stance from foot to foot.
“Why are you doing this?” she eventually blurts as she crosses her arms over her sweater-clad form. She’s not sure if she detects an inkling of pity in his face, but if she does, she wants nothing more than to run for the hills and never return. For some reason, the thought of Professor— Harry feeling bad for her makes her shoulders shudder, a prickly sensation tip-toeing down her spine, as if shame is completely and utterly eating her alive.
His lips part in a quiet sigh. “I just… I spent the weekend thinking of you and feeling awful for the way I’ve treated you.”
Thinking of you.
I spent the weekend thinking of you.
Her stomach turns as his words echo throughout the chambers of her brain. But then there’s a click — like the second part of the sentence just ekes its way through, planting a seed of self-doubt and insecurity. And she backs away like he may explode at any moment.
“You shouldn’t— no, that’s alright,” she shakes her head, gaze set low on the carpeted floors of his tiny office.
“Y/N—”
Again, she cuts him off with a shake of her head, raising her eyes to look at him. His expression is pained and she wonders if hers is any better, though she assumes for different reasons: He doesn’t want to get fired for torturing another grad student. She has an inappropriate crush on the professor she works for.
“It’s all good. Call it even?” she rushes out, leaning over to grab her things from her chair, “Fresh start on Wednesday. Don’t mention it again, alright?”
She’s gone before he can stop her.
. . .
Harry accidentally falls asleep in his office that evening.
It’s half because he’s absolutely swamped with work, too fearful to email Y/N and add things to her grading pile after the way she all but ran away earlier today. He’s terrified he made her uncomfortable.
He doesn’t want to return to the quiet loneliness of his apartment, where he’s constantly faced to force the reality of his life: A man in his early 30s with a job that he likes, but no one actually likes him at it. His entire family resides in London and with the exception of a few friends from his schooling years, he’s alone. Especially in the romance department.
His heart aches for Y/N. He realizes it’s a bit dramatic, even slightly taboo given the nature of their professional relationship, but he likes her. He likes her so much that he doesn’t want to go home and think about how badly he messed things up, so he falls asleep face-down on his desk, his cranium wedged between piles of pens and a Post-It list of to-do’s.
When he wakes up, he doesn’t know how long he’s been asleep for. The soft, golden light from the lamp is still just barely bathing the circumference of the room, but as he blinks his eyes open, he realizes that it’s silent. He can see through the small frosted window that the hallways are dim, which means it’s most definitely sometime in the evening.
He feels… somewhat guilty but charged as he wakes from the fog of his sleep, eyebrows furrowing as he stretches his arms out. His neck already aches from the discomfort of his sleeping position and he groans, lifting a palm to sort the knot out.
And that’s when he realizes it — why he feels as if his body is buzzing, his hands sweaty and his throat dry. He’d woken up in the middle of a sex dream and, like a pathetic teenager, the star of it had been his crush. Y/N.
He scoffs to himself as he glances down at his crotch where, sure enough, his length is painfully hard beneath the constriction of his trousers and underwear. He swallows, eyes flickering closed. He can remember the exact details of his dream, even if they send a bead of guilt dripping down his chest — they’d been in his office, just like this. She was between his legs, knees pressing into the carpet of the floor, her eyes rounded and expectant as he toyed with her, pretending to guide his cock between her lips only to take it away at the last minute. She pouted every time, a plushy lipped-frown punctuating the words he hadn’t even realized he’d been dying to hear: “Please Professor Styles, stop teasing me.”
At the realization, he’s sent into a frenzy. He doesn’t even think to check whether the door is locked (or maybe if he’s locked in the building, no less), before he’s clawing at his belt and zipper, yanking the fabrics down to reveal a pair of swollen balls. His length stands hard, his eyes nearly rolling back just from the feeling of looping his fingers around the base. He can’t remember the last time he was this pent up just from his own imagination, but it’s not a difficult place to return — not as his head leans back against his office chair, allowing his dream to pick up and take form in full consciousness.
So much pre-cum is bubbling at the tip that he doesn’t need much of his own spit to lubricate himself. He bites his lip hard to prevent himself from groaning out too loudly, envisioning the way she’d finally suckle around the tip of his cock, looking up at him with proud eyes. He’d gradually help her go deeper, but she’d be excited, willing to bruise her throat for him. She was so good — in his dreams, in real life, she was always so, so good.
“So good, Professor,” she’d pant out, popping off to lick a stripe up the side of his cock. With spit-swollen lips, she’d venture down to his balls, rolling them in the palm of her hands before taking each one into her mouth. In reality, he gasps at that, tugging them in his own hand.
But what really gets him there is an impossible thought — one that has nothing to do with the silly wet dream his brain conjured while he slept. Her in her own bedroom, her naked form wrapped up in her sheets while he gazed over lovingly, pressing soft kisses along her shoulder and down her arm. She’d giggle breathily before flipping onto her side to face him. And she’d say it — I love you — and it’d feel like heaven.
That’s what pushes him to finish all over his hand, cum dribbling over his fist as he pants and gasps like he’s just discovered masturbation. His orgasm encompasses his entire body, a few beautiful, peaceful moments of complete pleasure that causes all of his muscles to tighten deliciously. Of course, he envisions her taking all of his cum, licking it up eagerly over his digits, making a show of it — she’d open her mouth, pretty pink tongue out, and he’d watch as she swallows. He shudders at the thought of it, quickly snapping his eyes open and grabbing a tissue from the box on his desk to clean himself up. He’s immediately back to his grumbly state as he does, irritated that he allowed himself to lose control in such a finite way.
He tosses the dirty tissue in the garbage can and stands up to tug his briefs and pants back up. The clink of his belt buckle is the only sound throughout the small room, so he jumps when a knock sounds on the other side of his closed door.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, someone knows, I must have said her name, I’m such a fucking freak—
His eyes widen when the person speaks: “Profess— Harry? Are you in there? It’s Y/N.”
#writing#English profrry#harry styles#harry styles writing#harry styles fic#harry styles blurb#harry styles angst#harry styles imagine#harry styles oneshot#harry styles one shot#harry styles one direction#harry styles fan fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fan fic rec#harry styles fic rec#harry styles x you#harry styles x reader#harry styles smut#harry styles fluff#one direction#harry styles fanfic rec#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x oc
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Congratulations! It's Triplets. Part 3
@unadulteratedsoulsweets said:
In Congratulations! It's triplets! As much the entire thing is so wholesome I wanna see some bit of angst.
Imagine dis the entire family is out in public.Includes the Batfam, Jazz and the triplets for a huge family bonding activity. Some random person( a karen) commented on how Jazz is a teen mother, an irresponsible person, a whore... Etc (you know the usual comments of being a mother too young) and the Batfam reaches the conclusion that the Pit Rage transfers onto the kids as two of the triplets have already green glowing eyes with rage filling it by the second and ready to tackle/punch the person who made the comment but the last of the triplets have their other "siblings" by their collar but despite holding the two back they too have their eyes switching from blue to eery toxic green and was one second to join them to murder whomever bad mouthed Jazz
It's not that Jason didn't think that the Pit would only have repercussions in his life. He just always assumed it would only be his life.
He never considered the possibility that it would affect his offspring in any way. (Besides having a father that was completely mad in Pit Rage)
Maybe it was a pipe dream to think that or maybe it was just having hope that his messed up second life had already been hard enough so the universe was going to give him a break on this one.
The three small children currently growling at a reporter, eyes flashing in and out of green, told him that wasn't the case.
It had started off as a fun little day out. Jazz and the kids mainly kept to themselves in Wayne Manor. Bruce had housed them in the west Annex, a place usually only used when guests of high importance would stay in the Manor's history.
It came complete with its own kitchen, bathroom, sitting room, seven bedrooms, and three bathrooms. It even had its own entrance that usually stayed out of sight of the main gate- a compelling feature for Jazz, who didn't want her kids in the limelight until everything legal was settled.
The distance between the two buildings was one acre, giving the family of four the privacy they needed and keeping them close for Jason to get to know.
As far as Jason knew, Jazz had not revealed the father of her children to anyone.
As far as the world knew, Jazz had recently moved to temporary housing until her insurance could help her rebuild her house or, if she was at a total loss, find new housing.
Thankfully, no one thought it strange as they weren't the only ones displaced. Poison Ivy's latest Save the Earth stunt targeted overpopulated neighborhoods guilty of destroying the land to build upon (in her own words).
She returned the favor and broke down the buildings to give back to the Green. Never mind the people inside the buildings or the livelihoods she destroyed in progress.
Ivy had gone through five streets before the Bats stopped her and returned her to Arkham Asylum.
It's been a week since the incident. Jason hasn't seen much of his kids, not for the lack of trying, but it was hard to fit their schedules. The three were in school most of the day, and when they got out, Jason usually had to run to prepare his "nightly" job.
He couldn't just slack off- doing so would mean those scum bags that didn't directly work for Red Hood would think that they could get away with breaking his rules.
He had slowly been dividing his responsibilities among his men- drug dealing, weapon dealing, illegal car races, prostitution, and protecting kids and street workers- so that he could have one night off without worrying.
That didn't mean he didn't see his kids at all. Jason usually had two hours a day with them, where he tried his best to connect to his kids, but the triplets seemed weary of him.
He could tell they didn't feel comfortable with him invading their space, so he tried to stay outside the annex. As someone who worked a lot with street kids, he knew never to break the sense of safety their hiding holes were to them.
Instead, he decided to meet his children in the open space between the Annex and the Manor.
The four-five with Jazz casually reading on the Annex floating balcony. Jason pretended not to notice she was doing so to keep an eye on her kids- would sit down at the garden table to have an after-school snack, enjoying the multiple rose bushes nearly as tall as him that Alfred cared for.
It was always one of Jason's favorite Wayne gardens because it often made him think of magical castles with giant mazes and lovely scattered flowers.
He noticed that his eldest- Dan- might have felt the same, given how the boy would sometimes spread his arms and run through the rose bushes pathways. He even picks up sticks and plays knights against invisible enemies.
(Jason pretended he was a knight in these gardens when Bruce first took him in.)
Danny, his second, seems more interested in lying underneath the rose bushes and reading about the stars. If Gotham had clearer skies, he think his boy would be a cat napping in the sunlight and sitting around at night to glance at the starlights.
His daughter seemed even more adventurous than her brothers. She often would test Jazz's patience because she wandered away from the Annex garden to explore the others. Jason had seen her climb statues and trees to get a better viewpoint, marking whatever she saw on a little map.
He got a look at her map and felt his heart swell at the childish little drawings- Damian's painting corner in the east Garden was now "Artist Alley", the south garden had a dragon fountain so Dani had decided it was "Dragon Keep" and she had found the north floating balcony where Bruce liked to go practice his not so secret love of singing.
Dani had marked her map as "Siren's Side" with a cute little drawing of Bruce singing.
The more he learned about his three kids, the more Jason loved them.
Jazz wasn't kidding when she said she didn't mind him in their lives- she was just worried that he would try to take them, and with his money and connections, she wouldn't be able to stop him. Her worry bled into the three children, and with intelligent eyes that belied their five years of age, they would watch him with guarded caution.
The moment they would finish their snack, the three would make excuses to run off and do their own thing. Jazz would continue reading, but Jason wouldn't be a Bat if he didn't see the way she relaxed whenever the kids left the table.
It was rough....to want to be accepted by them but also understanding why a random man wanting a family connection would be difficult to establish.
That's why Jazz's suggestion that they all visit the zoo had been such a shock. She gave Jason a strained smile, but her eyes were soft. For a moment, Jason felt his heart skip a beat. "It would be nice for the kids to see the zoo with their...dad."
The five had headed to the zoo- with Bruce and the rest following behind in disguises because they are all nosy assholes. He had gotten so used to the clicking of Tim's camera- as his brother was over-excited to capture his nephews' and niece's first zoo outing- that he hadn't realized a second camera was following them.
They had just finished watching the penguins swim when Danny tugged on the leg of his pants. "Mr. Dad, sir. Can I tell you something?"
Jason's heart jumped. Is Danny starting to like him? Sure, he put Mr and Sir, but he called him Dad! Grining widely he kneed down to get to his level.
"What up, bud?"
Danny leaned in to whisper in his ear. "There is a man taking pictures of me in the bushes."
Usually, Jason would have told him something like, "Tim is weird, but he's harmless." However, he knew for a fact Tim was on the roof of the Penguin exhibit and that meant some random man was taking pictures of his kid.
Green bleeds into his vision slowly, and Danny jerks back, surprised by the sight. "Go with your mother-"
"Pervert in the bushes!" Dan's voice cuts Jason off. They both turn to the little five-year-old throwing stones into the surrounding bushes and a man stumbling out of them with a shout. "Pervert in the bushes"
Danny facepalms, which is not the reaction his son should have. How in the world did Dan even know the word pervert?
"Dan! What on earth are you doing!?" Jazz screams alarmed. She raced back, a tray with four ice cream cones in her hands, and Dani, not far behind, also carrying her own cone. The girls had gone to get some frozen treats for everyone not too long ago.
The man turns to her with a very familiar predatory glint in his eye. Shit, Jason knows who he is. He is a paparazzi and one of his kids called him dad in front of the stranger.
The man takes Jazz's picture, momentarily blinding her with the flash, before firing questions and taking more pictures of her reaction to each one, "Miss, are you the baby momma of Bruce Wayne? Or one of his many kids? How did it feel to be a mother so young? Were your intentions to get pregnant to have access to the Wayne Will? How much money did the Wyanes pay you for a night?"
What?
Jazz's eyes go wide, her face drained of blood, and she looks frozen in fear. "I don't-why would- I'm not!"
"Not a whore or not a gold digger?"
"Neither!" Her voice wabbles like she's about to break into tears.
Jason sees green. He is about to beat the disgusting pig to the ground but his children are faster. Dani races forward, little arm pulled back and throws her whole body into a jab at the paparazzi's manhood.
The man drops his camera in a wheeze. Dan smashes it with another stone, hitting the lens five times just to make sure it is broken and starts to advance at the man.
Dani is currently yelling at the top of her lungs, swearing, and punching the man with her belt buckle wrapped around her knuckles. It's satisfying to watch- his kids beating down a full-grown man with no training, just vicious righteousness to protect their mother.
That is, until Danny- the apparently more level-headed triplet pulls them both off by the back collar of their shirts. Jason sees it for the first time.
The kids eyes are glowing green.
Horror creeps into every part of his mind, and he doesn't even realize the creep is screaming about suing them or Tim and Bruce's fantastic entry to get a handle on the situation.
He is distantly aware of Steph and Cass, helping a silently crying Jazz walk away, and that Dick, Damian, Duke, and Harper form a protective circle around the kids, but it's Cullen that realizes Jason is frozen.
"Jason? Are you alright?"
No, he is not alright.
Pit's madness ruined his life. It left blanks in his memory. Left him lashing out and killing quickly. It makes him attack Tim and others. It made the child Jason used to be, feel sick and revolted.
It made it hard to look in the mirror and not be disgusted. It was everything that was wrong with him since the Joker took all his innocence away with his blasted crowbar.
Pit Madness is a curse that he has to live with sometimes where he claws at his own skin in a pathetic attempt to get away from it. But he could never escape its taunting whispers, its controlling green, or its presence sitting somewhere behind his eyes that turned him into a monster.
A curse he gave to his children.
He truly is Wills Tod's son, isn't he?
#dcxdpdabbles#dc x dp crossover#Warning: bits of self-hate#Paparazzi are scum#Jason trying to connect to the kids#The kids: You shall not succeed#Jazz thinks Jason is sweet#In a strange turn of events it's Danny the voice of reason among the triplets#Congratulations! It's Triplets#part 3#angst???
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Sehnsucht (M)
Summary:
You and Wonwoo have been rivals since your first of University, and despite it being your final year, that rivalry doesn't seem like it's going anywhere soon when you both end up in German 101.
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Tags: dub con, academic rivals to fucking academic rivals, mean!woo, both are super smart, german- BECAUSE OKAY IM IN GERMAN RN AND I WAS LIKE WHAT IF I ADD A LITTLE BIT OF GERMAN AND THEN I ADDED A FUCKING LOT SO language kink 😊, a HUGE abuse of the german language, ALSO IM IN GERMAN 101 SO GOOGLE WAS MY BEST FRIEND SO IM SORRY IF ANY OF IT IS WRONG I DONT UNDERSTAND VERB PLACEMENT, okay, Wonwoo is genuinely mean okay? Keep in mind, creampie, public sex because we know I love it, wonwoo rawdogs it, lots of teasing, brats all around, rough sex?
I did end up with my own German consultant, thank you @hyunjins-dimples and I did ignore some of their german language advice because I just did, anyways I will be ignoring any and all german language critiscism from anyone other than my beautiful, perfect, amazing, german friend tyvm : )
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“Alright, and when you conjugate the verb komme, as in to come, where would you place the verb?” Your professor asked. His eyebrows furrowed slightly in thought as his gaze crossed over the class. “As in a sentence like. I go to Germany?”
You thought over your answer in your head, clearly for too long as suddenly your professors’ eyes were across the room.
“Uh, Wonwoo?”
“Ich komme nach Deutschland.”
“Good!” Your professor said with a nod. You could feel a gaze land on you, and you didn’t have to look over to know that a smug look was being shot at you. You rolled your eyes and pressed your cheek into your hand. “In some sentences there are two verbs. Does anyone know what we would do if we had kommen and an in the same sentence. As in to say something about August?”
Your hand shot up before you could think about it. Your professor nodded at you, and you tried to cooly answer.
“Ich an komme im August?” You murmured, unable to keep the question out of your voice. You knew you had made a mistake when you heard a stifled chuckle from the other side of the classroom. And your professor’s eyes drifted to the side, his mouth falling open as he tried to find a nice way to say that you were wrong.
“Right well, if you said that it wouldn’t be quite right.”
You pressed your eyes closed in frustration as Wonwoo spoke without even raising his hand.
“It would be Ich komme im August an,” he said, and there was no doubt in his voice that he was right.
“Richtig, gut,” your professor praised lightly, before continuing to tell you all the nuances of where the verb was placed in sentences and when it should be where. You felt your fingers clasp at your apple pencil tighter and this time you looked over at the gaze across the room.
You glared at Wonwoo, wishing he wasn’t so good at this.
You had been fighting in classes with Wonwoo since your freshmen year of college. You weren’t sure how come your classes always collided so much. After all, he was an English major, and you were in Zoology. It didn’t make sense for you two to meet in so many classes, past of course, gen eds but regardless you saw Wonwoo practically everywhere that you went.
It was so frustrating. You hadn’t known him in high school and in high school you had been the valedictorian. You were in the honors college, and you already had plans on where exactly you were going to go for your Bachelors. So, when you sat down for your first Chemistry class, buzzing with the excitement of knowing exactly what you were going to say. You were a bit annoyed to find that somebody else was raising their hand just a millisecond faster than you were.
Your very first day in Chemistry ended up being a fierce race between you and this Wonwoo on who could answer the fastest, and you were both very good at Chemistry.
In every class that you two were in whether it be Chemistry, Biology, Writing, or gender studies and attitudes of the world, you and Wonwoo were sat down after about the second week with your professor, encouraged to let other students answer questions in class.
Sometimes you two just immediately turned to each other and whispered the answer at one another with sharp gazes.
So, you were a bit pissed when you sat down for German 101 at the beginning of your last semester and stupid Wonwoo was in your class.
How could you have possibly had at least one class with him every single semester at this university? Would it go on to grad school? Would you two be stuck at an internship together? God forbid you two visit Germany at the same time.
You shivered at the mere thought.
What was an English major even doing taking German? For goodness sake, you only chose the class because you thought it would be the last class he would be in.
And to add onto that, why the fuck was he so good at German?
It was German 101. Literally elementary German and sentence structure in German was confusing as hell so why was he finding it so easy.
You tried not to scowl too hard as you thought about it, wondering what gave him the right to just be good at everything he did. You would have to stay even later at the library tonight if you were going to manage to keep up with him.
After class, as you packed your things, you made a point to brush past Wonwoo, ‘accidentally’ bumping your shoulder into his. You never knew why you did that really. He was practically immovable.
You wondered if it was possible for him to study and workout at the same time.
Maybe he just didn’t work.
But you did and you worked quite a bit. Which meant jam sessions where you tried to force the material that you didn’t know down your throat in only a manner of hours.
Which meant you were at the library late a lot.
Not that, that was the only place that you ran into the asshole.
“You must be a bit desperate to even be studying at lunch time,” Wonwoo commented. You looked up from your little hole in the dining room- The one spot in the whole cafeteria that you felt completely comfortable in. Tucked in a corner where no one could see you.
You couldn’t hear the buzz of the students around you in this little corner booth, and you had every opportunity to just pull your legs up on the seat, and enjoy the world around you.
“What are you doing over here?” You hissed, instead of arguing the desperate allegations. You definitely were desperate, to be studying while you were eating lunch, and there was no point in arguing that.
Unfortunately for you, Wonwoo was a good study. And that meant that he had been able to study you over the years, along with all of his other assignments. Frustratingly enough, he always knew when you were lying. So, there was no point in trying to pretend like you weren’t.
“I just came to eat as well,” he stated.
He took a seat right next to you, forcing your feet to the floor. He didn’t have any food with him, and you wondered why that was until he reached around you and plucked one of the fries off of your plate.
“Hey-”
“What are you even studying?” He asked you. You rolled your eyes. Advanced biology.
“Nothing you would know,” you grumbled. He took a single glance at your screen, and mumbled the answer to the question that you felt like you had been thinking about for hours. You tried to keep your anger to a minimum. “Well, duh, that’s easy.”
How did he know that?
“If it’s so easy, why have you been here all day?” Wonwoo pressed. He didn’t even have his own things with him.
“Have you been stalking me?” You blurted, noting that it did sound a little shrill.
“No… I could just hear you trying to think from across campus.”
You started to spew insults at Wonwoo because, well, how else were you supposed to respond to him? But they fell on deaf ears. Wonwoo simply plucked a few more of your fries from your plate, and then walked away as if the conversation had ended ages ago.
You got your chance for proper payback a few weeks later.
When you saw that there was going to be a mandatory lecture for English majors by James Franco… Well, you just knew you had to be there. A study on english composition and how it is seen in history and therefore portrayed in film. You had been studying english and film in your free time for almost your whole life.
For you, it was a pipe dream… Which meant that if there was anything that you were going to show up Wonwoo in…
You excitedly sat next to him in the lecture hall, shooting him a bright smile despite the early hour.
“Coffee?” You offered him. Wonwoo looked exhausted, you’d heard there was a mandatory frat party the night before. Poor guy was probably up all night.
He gave you a suspicious expression while he looked at the cup, but he seemed to remember quickly that he was a bit too tired to say no to it. He took the cup and took a swig from it.
“Poison?” He asked you, even though you both knew you had ordered him his favorite kind.
“I’m thinking of a much slower death,” you replied lightly. You tapped the desk in front of you. “Aren’t you excited? James Franco… Wow, imagine that… One of the only notable PhD holders in English and he’s an actor.”
You seemed to think over your words.
“It’s almost as if being an English major is just a hussle for most people… Must be an easy way to get a doctorate.”
You kept your voice airy.
“How does that sound, Doctor Jeon Wonwoo?”
It was all meant to strike a chord in him but something about using such a high title with him made your mouth go dry. Wonwoo’s eyes darkened a bit, and you knew that he wanted to press the way that you had addressed him. You didn’t give him the satisfaction.
“Well,” you said quickly. “I hope you’re ready for this lecture. I would hate for your head to hurt too much to enjoy it.”
Wonwoo grumbled.
“You talk too damn much.”
-
It was always like that with Wonwoo, a constant game of pushing and pulling and before you knew it your first test was coming up in German. You weren’t sure how things were going to go with it, but you did know that between all of your other classes you hadn’t had much of a chance to study for German.
And that meant cramming.
And cramming on a normal day was a lot and on days especially like this one. It left you feeling very delirious.
“Ich bin nicht klug…” You mumbled to yourself, not only furrowing your eyebrows at the fact that you were pretty sure you said it wrong, but also trying to figure out when the fuck you were supposed to use not, and how the fuck you added it to a sentence.
“Richtig,” a voice mumbled, dragging you away from the quizlet open on your tablet. “Du bist nicht klug.”
You glared at Wonwoo.
“I don’t need you to tell me I’m not smart. I was just talking,” you grumbled at him. He hummed, placing a hand in your little cubicle, leaning over your head to look at your quizlet.
“Well, it’s true,” Wonwoo commented. “Du bist sehr schlecht im Gebrauch von Verben im Deutschen.” You were frustrated to find that no matter how hard you thought about it, you had no clue what he had just said. Not that he even gave you time to process. “Oh, es tut mir leid. I said that you are very bad at verb usage in German.”
You elbowed Wonwoo as you wheeled your chair to the side, trying to get out from under him. He let his back press against the divider to your left, so you got to your feet.
“Why the fuck are you so good at German anyways?” You blurted. “Why the fuck does an English major need to know German?”
Wonwoo shrugged.
“Just thought it would be fun to take.”
You were furious. German was the only thing that you weren’t able to keep up with Wonwoo in.
You two had been matching rivals in Chemistry and your gender studies class. You had smoked him in Biology, but he had never been able to beat you in a class before. Even in writing you both ended up with the same exact grade on every assignment. So why German?
Why was he so good at German?
“You know you’re disrupting my studying,” you grumbled, a bit annoyed by his interruption. You slid your tablet to the side, and picked up your water bottle, taking a sip. As you did Wonwoo held out his hand, clearly expecting you to share your water with him.
You rolled your eyes at his audacity.
You handed him your water bottle.
“Do you need help studying?” Wonwoo asked, and it would seem genuine if it weren’t for that condescending look in his eyes. “I bet even after hours of studying you don’t know how to form a sentence.”
You knew enough German to say: “Ich hasse dich.” Because you had learned the phrase, I hate you specifically to say it to Wonwoo.
He stepped a bit closer to you.
“You could also say Dich hasse ich,” Wonwoo clarified. “It’s interchangeable in that sentence.”
You two stared at one another, and it was only then that you realized exactly how close you two were to one another. Your eyes flickered across his perfect face. Smooth, glassy skin, gorgeous dark eyes framed in glasses that should make him look like a nerd but instead just made him more handsome, and pretty pink lips that you just wanted to-
You felt your cheeks redden and you knew you had to act fast. You reached forward, grabbing the frames from off his face.
“Are you ever embarrassed by the fact that your genes are so awful you have to wear glasses?” You mumbled, trying to hide your moment of weakness. You two were so close to one another that you could barely even hold his glasses up between the two of you without your knuckles brushing his chest. You raised his glasses to your face, sliding them up your nose.
You frowned.
“God your sight is awful. You reall-”
Before you could finish your sentence Wonwoo had grabbed your wrist and holy shit he was a lot stronger than you had imagined he would be.
He gestured towards your skirt, which barely even fell halfway past your thighs.
“Are you ever embarrassed to walk around like some sort of conceited slut?”
Your mouth dropped open, and you knew that you should be angry and push Wonwoo away and yell at him because you had both taken the same gender studies class and you knew that he knew better than to talk to anyone that way, and you knew that he was respectable to people of all genders, but instead you just stood there, shocked.
There was a tightness in the pit of your stomach, and your hand fell to your side, gripping at the edge of your desk. You struggled to find something to say back, and your hesitance made Wonwoo’s expression which, by the way, had turned to shock as soon as the words left his mouth, to confusion.
“Bist du dumm?” He mumbled, and the question went right over your head. You suddenly weren’t able to think about anything. He flicked your forehead lightly. “I said are you dumb? Don’t you know you’re supposed to argue it when someone says something derogatory like that to you?”
His voice was veiled a bit in concern. Like he was worried that people were walking around calling you a slut to your face and you weren’t saying anything about it.
… You certainly hoped that Wonwoo never found out about your book preferences. Maybe you should try and hide Haunting Adaline from your bookshelves on Goodreads.
“I was just caught off guard,” you mumbled. “I thought you were more intelligent than needing to resort to such derogatory terms.”
Bold-faced lie. Your face was red. Why were you growing so warm at the implication. Why were you thinking about the fact that nobody was ever in this corner of the library this late at night. Why were you thinking about the window that was right in front of you two looking out on the water fountain outside of the library? Why were you thinking about the absence of cameras on this floor? And most importantly why were you wondering what Wonwoo’s hands would be like with your skirt bunched into it?
You two stared at one another, and Wonwoo took a step closer (you were surprised that was even possible) his gaze becoming a bit sharper.
“Es gefällt dir…” You like it.
“Nein…” You mumbled back. Wonwoo’s hand came up to your chin, his thumb brushing it at first, making your chin tilt up a bit, encouraging the touch. When you did that Wonwoo clasped his fingers on your chin, holding it where you presumed, he wanted it.
“Yes, you do,” he said in awe. He leaned forward, his eyes flickering down to your lips.
“You look hot in my glasses,” he mumbled.
You made a noise that was not a response.
His lips ghosted yours.
“Keep them on.”
He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. At first, it was hesitant. He was a bit unsure of if he wanted to actually kiss you, or if you actually wanted to kiss him. That was a fair thought of him to have because you were unsure if you even wanted to kiss him, until his lips were on yours and then your arms were wrapping around him, the palm of your hand pressing on his neck so that he was forced closer to you.
One of Wonwoo’s hands came up to your hair, and he pulled you back by your ponytail. You hissed at the action, but the way that it sent a coil of heat through your body was enough to stop you from complaining.
“Ich will dich ficken,” Wonwoo mumbled, as your lips parted. Your eyebrows furrowed in frustration.
“You want to…” You trailed off, your fingers balling into his shirt. You didn’t know that verb, you were sure your professor hadn’t covered it.
“Fuck.” Wonwoo twisted your body so that you were pressed against the edge of the desk, and his pelvis was pressed to yours. “I want to fuck you so bad.”
Your breath hitched in your throat.
“So? Are you going to be fucking good and let me take you?”
You were already nodding when the word good left his lips. So, when he finished the question, you were nodding rapidly.
“Yes,” you mumbled. “Oh god please take me Wonwoo.”
A smirk flickered across his lips.
“In German.”
Frustration bubbled up in your body…. Or was that arousal?
“Uh… Ja… ich will dich ficken… Too?”
That must have been good enough because the next thing you knew, Wonwoo’s lips were on yours again and he was hiking you up onto the desk, pushing your skirt up to your waist with ease.
“You don’t even have shorts under this,” he mumbled against your lips as his hand ran over your thigh. He slapped you there, hard. You yelped and your fingers tightened in his shirt. “Du bist ein Depp…"
You vaguely registered he was calling you an idiot, but before you could respond he was sliding down your body, his fingers on your sides making you shiver despite being over your shirt. He got to his knees in front of you and took the hem of your underwear with his fingers.
“Let me get this off of you your highness,” he said mockingly. Your body grew even hotter, and you leaned back on your hands, lifting your legs a bit so he could easily pull your underwear off of you. You could feel a string of wetness drawing from your pussy as he pulled your underwear off and you wanted to hide your face in embarrassment at the truth of just how much Wonwoo had turned you on. You pressed your lips together tightly.
“God you’re fucking soaked,” Wonwoo mumbled. He slapped your thighs apart again, and you obediently spread them for him. “You want me to treat you like mein kleines Schwanzluder?”
You had no clue what he was saying, and your silence in response made him pinch your inner thigh. You bit down into your fist.
“Are you really that bad at German?” He asked you. “If you can’t even respond to a question as simple as, do you want me to treat you like my little cock slut than I don’t know how you are going to pass the final.”
“Ja,” you blurted, scrambling to drag any German you knew out of your mind. “Bitte.” Please. “Ich bin dein…” You hesitated on the last word. I am your…
“Schwanzluder,” Wonwoo said softly, his eyes focusing on you. “Cock slut.”
“Schwanzluder,” you repeated, your voice barely there. Wonwoo hummed.
“Bad pronunciation,” he mumbled. “But then again, you’re also bad at that.”
You went to protest him because you thought that your German pronunciation was pretty good, but then you thought of something better to argue with him about:
“Are you even going to be able to do anything down there?” You asked him tauntingly. “You probably wouldn’t be able to find a clit even with your glasses o-” Before you could finish, Wonwoo was shoving something wet and salty into your mouth, Your eyes widened in surprise when you realized you recognized the feeling of the cloth of your wet underwear from when you had done this to yourself while masturbating in the past. Your face burned in shame at the way that this only turned you on more.
“Halt die Schnauze…”
You didn’t have to know German to know that he was telling you to shut up.
Wonwoo’s hands pressed at the insides of your thighs, high enough that he was able to feel the dampness that had soaked through the thin cloth of your underwear. He massaged his thumbs into your thighs, and beneath the blurriness of Wonwoo’s glasses you could see him smile slightly. His hands slid further up your thighs and one of his thumbs prodded at your folds, dragging them to the side so that he could see your wet pussy even better.
“Fuck…” He mumbled. “You’re wet like a bitch in heat.”
You let your head fall back and hit the glass of the window behind your head. You couldn’t deny what he was saying, as badly as you wanted to. He had eyes, and even though his glasses weren’t on… He could certainly feel how wet you were beneath his fingers.
His thumb plunged into you suddenly, feeling thick and short as he delved inside of you. His fingers brushed your clit and you whined against the cloth in your mouth, your eyes falling shut. He pulled his thumb out of you after a few moments, seeming to be in thought, and then he was suddenly pressing two fingers at your entrance.
It was a lot… Especially for someone who had not been prepped, and he seemed to figure out with the way that the stretch felt around his fingers. He retracted and then pushed a single finger inside of you. The feeling was intoxicating. Even though you had felt yourself that you were not stretched enough for two you felt like you needed it.
It wasn’t long until you were begging for more as desperately as you could from behind your gag. Your fingers were gripping desperately at the desk, and it had Wonwoo chiding as he finally eased a second finger into you.
“Du bist erbärmlich…” He mumbled and you had no fucking clue what he had said but it sounded so hot with the little twinge of accent in his voice. You rolled your hips down onto his fingers, and the action made Wonwoo press a hand to your pelvis. “Hör auf.”
Again you whined, but your body stilled under his command. The pressure of him pushing down on you pushed his fingers even further inside of you and if you thought that was hard to handle, you couldn’t imagine what it would be like with his dick inside of you.
As if to read your thoughts, Wonwoo leaned forward, his hot breath teasing your clit.
“Oh Engel… I’m going to fucking destroy you,” he mumbled. He leaned forward, and he began to suck on your clit. His tongue flicking over it as a way to distract you as he stuffed a third finger into you.
The burn was amazing, and the distraction of his wet tongue on your clit was so welcoming that you about came just from that.
You had always wanted Wonwoo to just shut up. Thought that there was no use at all for his mouth.
But here he was… Proving that he had at least one very good use for his mouth. You tried to fight the urge to move under him, going as far as to slap the palm of your hand against the desk you were being eaten out on, but as soon as his mouth completely replaced his fingers, and you felt your wetness on your thigh, you couldn’t stop yourself from rolling down against him.
Somehow his hot mouth felt just as good as his fingers did, and they were making your core burn in a way that was fucking painful. You needed his cock in you right now.
Wonwoo moaned against your cunt- The first indicator that he was enjoying this just as much as you were, and he suddenly pulled away from you. His fingers dipped into you again but only briefly.
“Bend over,” Wonwoo murmured, twisting your body so that your ass was against his bare wet dick. You could feel it poking at your ass and you quickly bent over, placing the palms of your hands to the window.
“Not good enough,” Wonwoo mumbled. He pressed his hand to the small of your back, forcing your ass up more, and with his other hand his fingers knotted in your hair and he shoved your face into the window. “That’s better…”
He trailed off as he moved the hand not in your hair to (you assumed) take hold of his cock. You stayed there for seconds that felt like hours, skirt bunched around your waist, ass out for Wonwoo, your rival, and your face smashed up against the window just enough to see that there were people walking outside, presumably to their dorms.
Frustration began to bubble inside you, which expressed itself in small tears in the corners of your eyes.
“Ich möchte hören, wie Du darum bettelst.”
The german made you let out a sob of frustration as it was paired with Wonwoo sliding the tip of his cock between your soaked and already abused folds.
“Wonwoo, I don’t fucking know what you’re saying,” you cried out. You bucked your hips, trying to force his cock into you which worked except it didn’t because just his tip slipped inside of you.
God you felt like you were going to go feral at the feeling of his bare cock inside of you, you were already thinking about him pumping you full of cum…
“Guess you better figure out what I’m saying.”
Your mind raced, trying to figure out what Wonwoo could have possibly been telling you to do. You didn’t really recognize any of the words… Ich… I… hören… hear…? Will… want-
“Bitte, bitte, bitte,” you pleaded desperately. “I want your cock so badly… treat me like your own schwandluger or… Whatever it was- Please Wonwoo, I’m beggi-”
Before you could finish speaking Wonwoo was shoving himself into you. Your fists lightly hit the window at the feeling, so relieved to finally have him inside of you. You understood now why he had deemed only fingering you on three fingers as a punishment. You felt like you were being split open on his cock, and he had decided that he was going to go easy on you.
“You’re so small like this,” Wonwoo mumbled. “I mean look at you, unable to move under me��� Someone you despise… How’s it feel to not only be physically overpowered but also to be intelligently inferior to me?”
Humiliation boiled through your veins, and each hard thrust of his cock sent him deeper into you than the time before.
“Genau so mag ich dich…” Wonwoo mumbled, a hint of admiration in his voice. He tugged you up by your hair, arching your back. His arm wrapped around your body, right under your breasts, pushing them up as he brought his face right up next to yours.
He stared at you, his eyes squinting as he took in your already fucked out expression. He watched you bounce for a few seconds, each thrust drawing out a loud and desperate cry from you. Then, finally, he leaned forward and kissed you again.
This kiss was just as hot and heavy as the way he was fucking you, and you really ended up just screaming out in his mouth with every single thrust.
“You may not be good at German, but you are damn good at taking my cock,” he hissed out. “So, it turns out you are useful.”
He suddenly pushed you back down onto the table, smashing your face onto the cold surface.
“So why don’t you be a good cumdump and take all of my cum?”
You hadn’t even realized how much the pressure of needing to come had been building up in you until you felt the first warm spurt of cum fill your cunt.
There were a million reasons why you shouldn’t be excited by the fact that not only was Wonwoo fucking you raw but he was coming inside of you but all you could remember was how hot Wonwoo sounded when he was speaking to you in German, and how much you liked him controlling you as you began to come as well.
Your whole body shook as Wonwoo fucked you full of his cum, and he continued to fuck you until your body had stopped shaking. His fingers released in your hair, and the sound of both of you panting filled the air. You two were completely still for minutes that felt like hours, before finally you peeled yourself off the table.
You stared at Wonwoo, who was staring right back at you.
“Take your fucking glasses back,” you mumbled. He smiled at you, dragging them off of your face.
“Happily,” he replied. He ran his fingers through his hair, and he almost looked completely the same as he had when he first started to fuck you. “You know what the best part about this is?”
You stared at Wonwoo, the humiliation burning on your face.
“What is the best part?” You asked him, your voice low.
“You have barely studied,” he said, and his voice was heightened in amusement. “Good luck on the test tomorrow.”
His eyes swept over your body, clearly noting the fact that you were in no shape to study anymore. He gestured towards his phone- the time- reminding you that your class was so early that you wouldn’t even be able to study before it if you went to bed now.
Your mind raced with the implications.
“Get home safely y/n,” Wonwoo said, his voice light. You went to protest, but before you could he had pushed his fingers deep inside of you. Your fingers clutched the desk, immediately remembering who had been fucking you not long before. Who you had been begging to dominate you just moments ago.
He pulled his fingers out of you and sucked them into his mouth with a smile.
“Maybe we’ll do this again.”
And then he was gone. Your blood was boiling, from satisfaction, humiliation, and pure anger at Wonwoo for having fucked you so that you would do bad on the test tomorrow, but one thing proved true between all of it. For him to think about fucking you to sabotage you, there had to be an initial wish to fuck you to begin with.
And if that were the case then… Well, you could certainly use this to your advantage…
May the games begin.
-
Taglist:
@starlight-night0, @alltheshineofthestars-blog, @park-hera-gi, @melodicrabbit, @jeanjacketjesus, @sparklyshuji, @woo8hao, @toruro, @wonudazed, @kkakkameori
(you can join my taglist here)
#does this imply a sequel#yes but i may very well be taking the netflix stance in matters of such#and not follow up#so don't get excited :)#seventeen fanfic#seventeen fanfiction#seventeen#svt fanfic#svt fanfiction#seventeen smut#wonwoo smut#wonwoo#wonwoo fanfiction#wonwoo fanfic#this fic may determine my retirement#i'm just kidding#talking to talk#svt smut#mean!seventeen
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You haven't written anything NSFW for TMNT so its okay if its not something you're comfortable writing but do you think you could write something for Bay Donnie? I don't really have any preferences of requests other than squirting
Soaked | Donatello
okay, fair warning, i haven't written anything explicitly nsfw for like two years so be nice; i was hesitant in posting this because i have no faith in my writing, especially nsfw, but i hope you like it! bayverse!!
warnings: NSFW, squirting? swearing, mentions of cunt etc., not much else i don't think. everyone is 18+!! awful titles, never proofread
summary: donatello likes it when you soak his sheets
word count: 1691
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
The world is bathed in darkness when you finally manage to open your eyes. The lair is quiet, and your head feels heavy as you squint. A hand is trailing your torso softly despite innumerable callouses, fingers sweeping delicately along the length of your spine in some silent rhythm. Your skin is warm, the cool touch of his palms soothing the heated flesh, and you giggle quietly as you imagine puffs of mist rising from where your bodies and their contrasting temperatures meet.
“You awake?”
With a humming reply and languid grace, you raise your head and try to make out his face in the dim light. You can’t see much, just a pair of soft eyes that make you feel more embraced than the blankets piled on top of you, as his other hand cups your cheek and you melt into him. He makes you feel like that a lot; like molten gold, pliant under his assured touches, burning and boneless and so, so precious.
“You fell asleep in the middle of movie night,” he says softly, lips brushing against your forehead in a gesture so tender it makes your heart clench. He traces his mouth down the swell of your cheek, caressing the lines of your face until he reaches your jaw. His kisses are indulgent and full, and you feel gluttonous as your hands seek his plastron eagerly. Even half-asleep, you want him wholly and desperately and you feel him huff a fond laugh, smiling knowingly against your throat.
“So needy,” he teases affectionately, the hand that had been mapping your back now beginning to move further downwards until the flesh of your thigh is in his grip. He squeezes it once, twice, and parts your legs. His beak presses harder into the delicate skin of your neck, and he inhales deeply before biting sharply. The contrast of his gentle hands and the sudden sting of his teeth causes your hips to stutter, and you can’t hold back a whine.
“I can smell you.” His voice is low and you shudder at the rasp in his tone. He pulls back to look into your eyes, and you swallow thickly; his irises have disappeared into blackness, as if they’re drowning in ink with pupils blown wide, and you feel yourself grow wetter at the wild look. You still can’t make out his face, but you know he looks wrecked, and a smug satisfaction settles deep within you.
The thought that your scent alone can ruin him, make primal need overwhelm him, make him look wanton, causes your toes to curl. His large hand, so huge on your body, grasps your thigh tightly again and you gasp as he squeezes hard enough to bruise this time. “You’re soaking already,” he groans, and you buck your hips, silently begging him to pull your sleep shorts down and feel it for himself.
Despite his teasing, he must feel as desperate as you because he’s quick to do exactly that and rub his finger against your folds. He curses loudly, the sound echoing in the quiet, and you spread your legs wider. “So fucking wet,” he chokes out, rubbing your swollen clit as he pushes his first finger inside of you. You’re so warm and tight and you feel yourself flutter around him.
“Donnie,” you gasp as he curls his finger just right. It’s the first word you’ve uttered, and he groans darkly at the desperation that coats the sound. He fucks you faster, his finger stretching you, drawing the most obscene sounds, wet slaps reverberating so loudly you’re sure everyone can hear them. You’re panting and flushed, hips grinding as he pumps in and out, and you moan loudly as he slips another digit inside.
He’s back to pressing open-mouthed kisses against your throat, lapping up the sweat that trickles down. “That’s it,” he murmurs reverently, sucking purple marks into your sensitive flesh and scissoring his fingers faster and harder, forceful pumps bordering on brutal. Your name is a growl on his tongue as he hits that perfect spot over and over, and you can’t stop yourself from mewling as he presses harshly against your sensitive nub, pleasure and pain blending in a way that makes you dizzy.
His pace is unrelenting and unforgiving, and you can feel the thrumming of your pulse, a delirious concoction of sensual agony shooting through your veins as you babble senselessly. “Donnie, please, please—”
He fixes his teeth over an especially delicate part of your throat and bites so hard you see stars, chest heaving and unable catch your breath as your walls clamp around his fingers. There’s going to be an outrageous mark, dark violet bruises and blatant indents of teeth in a place you have no hope of covering up, and the thought only makes you cry louder.
You think you might pass out for a minute or two as Donnie continues to finger-fuck you through your orgasm. You’re shaking and sensitive and sore, but he doesn’t let up even as you shiver and whine. “You can take it,” he tells you simply, and you nod quickly because you can, you’ll take whatever he gives you.
It doesn’t take long for you to reach the edge again, little gasps and whimpers slipping through your lips with every pump. He’s toying with you, a teasing grin pressed against the column of your throat that turns into a low laugh as you curse him for slowing whenever your thighs begin to tremble. Just as you think he’s about to slow again, he pinches your clit harshly and you can’t stop the wail that wrenches itself from your burning lungs.
His fingers fuck you through this orgasm too, spreading your legs wider as they spasm and weakly attempt to shut without his permission. Only when you fall still does he pull out, and you whimper more at the aching emptiness. He makes sure you’re watching as he brings his fingers to his mouth and tastes them; his tongue is playful, thick and flicking, and you feel the muscles of your stomach contract.
“Tease,” you croak, and his eyes somehow darken even further at just how wrecked you sound, your voice rasping and slurred.
“You’re right,” he agrees, brushing your folds again, digits stroking your puffy slit. You gasp as he pushes two fingers back in, squirming at the satisfying and sensitive discomfort shooting along your spine. “You’ve been so good.” He’s making those perfect curling motions inside of you and your back arches, tears gathering on your lashes as that agonising pleasure sparks, lighting up your blood and forcing your eyes to roll back.
“Donnie—”
There’s a pressure building, somehow more intense than before, and your thighs quiver as his fingers continue to fuck you without faltering, even as your legs threaten to snap closed at the unbearable sensitivity when he finds your clit once more.
You’re not sure if the sounds coming out of your mouth are words and you’re pretty sure you’re drooling, tongue lolling, but whatever noises escape your parted lips have Donnie pressing that spot inside you harder and harder, churring darkly. It's a sound that clatters through you as he returns his teeth to your throat like they belong there, like your neck is meant to be a canvas for his marks. “You can do it,” he groans. "You’re always so good for me.”
His fingers curl even more, and you choke on a moan as you realise what he’s asking for, what he’s building towards with every pump. Your own hand desperately grasps his forearm, not sure if you’re begging him to stop or urging him to keep going as you pant and whine, body writhing as he tears a sob from you that rattles your bones. “I can’t—”
“Yes, you can.” He’s tense, the muscles of his arm flexed and hard under your touch, and you can feel his sweat on your damp skin as he presses impossibly closer, almost lovingly nuzzling your neck now even as his fingers fuck you stupid.
You feel like you’re about to explode, the pressure agonising and tipping over into pain, blood boiling under your skin, and you can do nothing but cry wildly, screaming loud enough for everyone to hear, when you feel that tension inside you shatter like glass.
Donnie holds you as you convulse, shudders racking every inch of you, soft praises rushing from his lips as he presses gentle kisses along your jaw. He groans feeling your wetness gushing against him, soaking his plastron and his bedding, knowing your scent will cling to him and his bed for hours even after he showers and changes his sheets.
It's his favourite part, he thinks privately. It soothes something primal and animal within him, something he didn't even recognise until he had you writhing and coming undone under him for the first time. Making you lose control, satisfying you so good you can't help but squirt… He swallows the thought and scissors his fingers in you, watching the way you whimper with your eyes closed as he glides in and out of your pretty cunt with ease, your body always so responsive for him no matter what state you're in.
You’re certain you passed out this time, and when you come-to, Donnie still has his fingers inside of you, still pressing those feather-light kisses to your skin. You feel heavy and weightless all at once, eyelids fluttering, unsure whether to whine in relief or displeasure when his fingers retreat slowly and he brings them to his mouth again.
It takes you another minute to realise just how wet you are, your thighs glistening even in the low light, and the bed beneath you is completely drenched. You can’t muster any shame, only satisfaction coiling deep in your gut when you see just how soaked Donnie is too.
“Next time,” he breathes, voice guttural and promising, still sucking his fingers clean, “I want you on my face so I can drink every drop.”
You clench your thighs together, sore and aching and still so needy, and lick your lips. “That can be arranged.”
#tmnt#bayverse tmnt#tmnt x reader#tmnt imagine#tmnt donatello#donatello x reader#tmnt donatello x reader#bayverse donatello#tmnt donnie x reader#bayverse donnie#donnie tmnt#donatello#donnie x reader#tmnt bayverse#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt 2014#tmnt 2016#tmnt x reader smut#tmnt donatello smut#tmnt donnie#tmnt donatello x reader smut#tmnt donnie x reader smut#tmnt smut#bayverse smut
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