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kookslastbutton · 8 months

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When I Say Forever ༓ jjk (m)

✑ Summary: Today’s your wedding day and the slightly shy yet handsome, doe-eyed stranger who chased after you when you dropped your wallet on the street three years ago just happens to be the man standing before you today.

Original request: can you please write something about oc's and Jungkook's wedding? Your readers just need to witness it. We would highly appreciate it. Thank you!

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre/AU: fluff, smut, wedding au

word count: 4,696

warnings: a cute wedding where jungkook gets emotional and is very eager to be married, they get a little scolded during the ceremony ahaha, jk is romantic and prepares something very special for his lovely bride, mentions of absence of parents on oc's side (nothing gets too deep but I chose to go this route due to the very real factor that parents aren't always around), and finally sexual content bc come on it their wedding night 🥺

sexual warnings: soft dom!jk, sub!reader, swearing, explicit s*x, jk asks for consent bc yeah i don't even need to justify it, f*ngering, oral (both m. and f., multiple orgasms, dry humping, t*tty suck, heavy making out, overstimulation, possessive!kook, m*ssionary, c*wgirl, oc claws at his back which jk seems to have a kink for, a little bit of steamy rivalry at the end (just a hint), our kook is attentive even though it gets kinda rough

now playing: My You by jjk

a/n: my you has been one of my on repeat songs and im not sorry. Also, thank you for the request, i hope this is alright! Anyway pls enjoy! ❤

Dozens of cherry blossom trees are sky-high in the air, covering you as you walk down the aisle in the grass. Some of the blush pink and white blossoms shake from branches every few steps to shower over you in a cascading effect. The temperature is also perfect, a steady 68 degrees.

This is why you and Jungkook chose to marry in the spring–it was beautiful.

You look to your left, then to your right. Rows of seats filled with family, friends, and co-workers stare at you in awe. The only two people missing, however, are your parents.

With the passing of your father years ago and your mother's absence in your life since then, your half of the guest list isn’t extensive by any means. It's for those reasons that you both agreed a small wedding would be ideal.

Still, even with the minimized guest list, you find it difficult to hold eye contact with any of them. It's not because you're nervous exactly–you simply don’t believe your reality is real.

Was this another one of your silly dreams?

Are you going to wake up just as you reach the front?

You keep your eyes straight ahead and towards the man who's waiting for you with tightly clasped hands. He makes all your worries melt away in that instant.

No, you remind yourself. This isn't a dream.

The veil you’re wearing drags on the ground behind you and flows over the small train of your delicate, white gown. You chose a form-fitting sheath dress that’s made from the softest satin fabric. Its clean, sharp lines allow the semi-deep-v neckline to appear more elegant than revealing.

The closer you get the more Jungkook’s cheeks wet with his tears. He knew he was going to cry today. But he was hoping it’d happen towards the end so he could see you walking down the aisle to him without his vision blurring.

“Hi,” he whispers to you once you’re fully in front of him. He wipes his face with his thumbs as subtly as he can.

You bow to each other in greeting and, with the request to join hands from your officiant, you hand your bouquet of fresh-cut flowers to your maid of honor and place your hands in his gentler ones.

“Hi,” you reply, equally quiet and with a small smile.

Jungkook’s dark, raven hair parts in the middle with a few strands tastefully out of place. He’s wearing a black, pin-stripped suit with a matching vest and plain black tie. The white dress shirt underneath is buttoned all the way up to the top too and he’s kept all his piercings in, including his lip ring. He’s unbelievably handsome–and he’s yours.

When your officiant begins making the welcome speech, the guests settle down in their seats all at once. Yet you and Jungkook keep whispering to each other as softly as you can.

“You look amazing.” His thumbs rub soothing circles over the top of your knuckles.

“So do you.” Your gaze holds his reddened ones. The fact that he’s still on the verge of tears causes you to form watery eyes as well. But you blink them back. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“I know. I feel the same way.” He pauses and grins at you. “Did you see who came with whom?” He gives a side-eye, gesturing at Jimin, one of his best men.

“I saw.” You and Jungkook start giggling at once because the person who Jimin brought as his plus one is perhaps the most annoying person in the world to him–your co-worker who’s had an insane crush on him for the last year. They insisted that Jimin be a “gentleman” and show them a good time while at your wedding.

“Do you think they’ll…you know,” you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively to finish the sentence.

Jungkook shakes his head lightly. “I don’t know, maybe. I can’t really bother to think about who’ll sleep with who when you’re gonna be the one under me tonight.”

Though he says it with the most sincere tone, more endearing than flirty, you swallow hard. It’s not your first time with Jungkook but you’re unsure what to expect tonight. You’ll be his wife after this.

“Why do you get to top?” you mouth.

Jungkook gives a half-smirk.“Why do you pretend to hate it?”

You open your mouth to form a response but the harsh clearing of a throat behind Jungkook orders you to stop.

“Everyone-ahem-can hear you,” Taehyung coughs. “Stop it for god sake.”

“Yes, if the bride and groom could please save the after-wedding affairs for later, we can move forward with the ceremony. Thankfully I don't see many children in the crowd today,” the officiant adds as humorously as she can and the crowd chuckles.

Oh god. You bite down on your tongue to keep from embarrassing the two of you further.

Once your officiant is able to finish her welcome speech she turns her attention to you. "__ do you want to marry Jungkook, to be your husband, to love and to cherish all the days of your life, today, tomorrow, and always?

"I do. Yes."

She looks at Jungkook afterward. "Jungkook do you want to marry __, to be your wife, to love and to cherish all the days of your life, today, tomorrow, and always?

He stares at you, wordless for a moment as every memory between the two of you hits him like a tidal wave. His hand starts shaking in yours, and tears start spilling from his eyes again.

"You okay?" You whisper and this time it's your turn to rub soothing circles on his hands, calming him down.

"Yeah," he sniffs. "I just never imagined myself to be standing here today. I love you so much."

Your officiant decides it's best to wait for the right time to speak but Jungkook smiles at her softly. "That means yes by the way," he jokes and the guests laugh in unison.

She turns to the ring bearer, aka Namjoon's eight-year-old son who stands on Jungkook's left by his father. "May we have the rings please?"

The boy walks over to her, hands over the small gold bands, then returns to his previous position.

"The couple will now exchange rings as a symbol of their love and devotion. I understand they have prepared their own vows thus binding promises to love, honor, and cherish one another. __, please place this ring on Jungkook’s finger and when you're ready you may begin."

You take the ring and begin slipping it on Jungkook's finger. "They say when you marry someone you become one. You consider each other in every decision, make compromises for the other, and be the strength when the other cannot. We've been together for three years now Jungkook, doing those exact things and I couldn't fathom stopping now. I love you and I promise I'll always be here next to you, however and whenever you need."

"Jungkook," your officiant hands him your ring. "Please place this ring on __’s finger and when you're ready you may begin."

"When I saw you years ago, waiting at the crosswalk, I thought you were the most beautiful and intriguing person I'd ever seen in my life." He puts the ring on your fourth finger. "And then you dropped your wallet and it gave me the best opportunity to approach you. Little did I know, the sight of a man running after would make you run too. But you took my number in the end and three years later, the love of my life is standing before me. Everything I am and have belongs to you __, always and forever."

Your officiant smiles at you both as Jungkook struggles to keep his distance from you a few seconds longer. He's been waiting for this very moment since the day you agreed to be his boyfriend. He just can't take it any longer!

"In the presence of...oh for the love of might," your officiant stops mid-sentence when she sees Jungkook shuffling his feet closer and closer towards you. "Never in my twenty years of performing marriages have I seen a groom this eager to get married. Go ahead and kiss your wife hun! Mr. and Mrs. Jeon Jungkook everyone!"

Massive grin on his face, Jungkook grabs your waist and dips you low into a romantic kiss. The crowd goes wild at the dramatic gesture, whistling and clapping behind you.

After about a million more tears, speeches, first dances, a surprise song preformed by the wedding party, and Jungkook practically ripping off the lace garter around your thigh with his teeth, the wedding festivities come to an end. But not before you both find yourself being guided to a secret place led by Taehyung.

The wedding party insisted you be blindfolded beforehand. So here you are, almost pitch black out and clinging to Jungkook's arm.

"I don't understand why I need to be blindfolded and you don't," you say.

"I'm not sure," he replies. "Maybe they got you a gift or something."

"We're here! Stop!" You hear Taehyung shout from a few feet ahead and Jungkook freezes in place. You're body jolts forward a little with the sudden pause.

"__." Jungkook calls your name softly. "Open your eyes."

You flutter your lids open and at first, the sight before you is hazy as you adjust to the night sky. But then, your jaw drops to the ground.

In front of you is a charming river surrounded by perfectly arched cherry blossoms with lanterns hanging from the branches. All the lanterns illuminate the entire length of the stream, including around the bends and curves. At the edge of the stream is a small dock where a wooden row boat floats with a set of oars inside.

"Oh my god." Your eyes trail as far down the river as you can. You've only ever seen this in movies, so you're incredibly overwhelmed by the sight. "Jungkook, are we-are we going in there?"

He watches as you openly gape at the scene in front of you. "What do you think? Do you like it?"

You whip your head in his direction. "Are you kidding? It's amazing! Did you know about this?"

His big grin tells you everything you need to know.

"He planned everything himself," Namjoon speaks up. "Come on, your boat's waiting. It'll take you all the way to one of the best hotels in Seoul. I know you're going on your honeymoon tomorrow but we thought a night up in a five-star hotel might be nice. Unless you want to go back to Jungkook's house of course but...we kinda already grabbed your suitcases for the trip and had them put in your room."

"You're serious?"

"Dead serious __."

You snake your arms out Jungkook's arm and swing them around him. "I can't thank you enough for doing this, Joon."

He places a gentle hand on your upper back. "Of course, but like I said. Jungkook planned everything so you should thank him more than me." He laughs and breaks away from you when he sees the younger man eyeing the two of you excruciatingly close. "I think your husband would like you back now."

Jungkook comes up behind you and sneakily slips your hand in his tatted one. "Are you ready?" He gestures towards the boat.

You nod and he pulls you towards the dock, helping you into the boat first when you approach it. He sits across from you after and grabs the oars of the boats, lowering them into the water one at a time.

"Wait!" Taehyung lunges over the edge of the boat with something small and black in his palm. "Don't forget this." He clips a tiny microphone to his shirt and you scrunch your eyebrows.

"What's this about?" You ask.

Taehyung only half-smirks at you and backs away from the boat. "We'll see you when you come back from the honeymoon okay? Have fun! But please, for the sanity of us all, don't text us any details. In the words of the wise, keep the private things private!"

Jungkook laughs and starts rowing the boat forward and down the stream. You, on the other hand, wave goodbye to everyone as you drift further and further away from the dock.

"So, husband," you sit with your elbows on your knees. "What's the mic for?"

Jungkook doesn't reply but shushes you instead. He tests the mic a couple of times before soft music comes from either side of you. Apparently, there are stereos lined down the banks of the river.

When he starts singing, you cover your mouth in overwhelming joy.

"Summer has already spread in the air

Breeze is already blowing.

The last cold snap is going out

The days were getting longer and longer

But my days were still going on and on and on

I got wet in the sunshower, I looked up at the night sky..."

At this moment the lanterns start twinkling, reflecting like raindrops in the water. You look all around you, taking in the change of atmosphere. Jungkook's cool eyes focus on you intently as he continues serenading you.

"It was quite a lonely night

In the blink of an eye, the dark faded out

Blooming under the sunlight

Memories with me and you..."

The boat rows left and you peer over your shoulder. Taehyung and the rest of the wedding party are barely visible by now. When you look ahead again, you see that you're about to go under a stone bridge. On the other side are more cherry blossom trees and a glimpse of downtown Seoul.

"All these lights are colored in by you

All these times are precious due to you

Four seasons have passed with you

Four scents were left 'cause of you

All the reasons why I can laugh out

All the reasons why I sing this song

Thankful to be by your side now

I'll try to shine brighter than now..."

Jungkook rows the two of you closer to the city as he finishes his song, passing a number of other couples taking night strolls together. The wind blows a little but it doesn't make you shiver at all—his voice warms your soul.

And when you lean in to kiss him once the boat reaches the dock near the hotel, fingers grazing his cheeks, your body yearns to be near his.

It takes little to no time for the two of you to find your hotel room. Jungkook swipes your keycard in the door and in you both go, your hand shamelessly yanks at his tie.

He presses you up the back of the door once it's locked shut and kisses you with a fiery passion. It's different from all the other times; neither rough nor soft, as he sucks on your bottom lip, eagerly begging to deepen the kiss.

"Kook," you let out a muffled moan when his tongue finds its way into your mouth. It's a wrestle at first, your tongues toying with each other. And once you get the hint that he's not about to back down you start threading your fingers through his hair.

"I love it when you do that," he groans and pushes himself against your body, grinding his growing bulge against your center.

You whine against his lips and grind your hips back into his. "I know you do," you tease and a strong pair of hands wander your waist before traveling behind to grip your ass.

You yelp when he squeezes your cheeks and starts rutting himself into you faster. He moves his pillowy lips to the side of your neck too, peppering you with kisses from the the sensitive area right below your earlobe and all the way down to your collarbone.

"Fuck," he grunts, nothing short of frustrated, when your dress stops him from kissing down any further. The hands gripping your ass move up to find the zipper of your gown. "Please, baby, can I remove it?"

"Yes, go ahead," you nod and retract your hands from his hair to let the gown fall off your shoulders. Jungkook watches lustfully as your bare breasts are revealed to him little by little. He's seen them a million times but each time is always like his first, his eyes never fail to dilate.

"Perfect," you hear him whisper under his breath. And when the gown pools to the ground around your feet with a heavy thump, he can't hold himself back any longer.

He needs you.

One by one he starts tearing off his suit jacket, then his vest and leather belt until he's left standing in nothing else left except his black underwear. His muscles bulge without even having to flex and his pecs are more than solid.

If he weren't the love of your life, you'd say he was damn intimidating. Yet the pleasure you get from simply viewing his perfectly toned body is ridiculous and what pushes you further is the gold band wrapped around his fourth finger.

Jungkook must be feeling the same as his hands are back on your hips in the seconds following, pushing you to the wall adjacent to the door and attacking the area near your collarbone again with his plushy lips. You whine when his large pecs rub against your pebbled nipples.

"God what have you been lifting these day Jeon? Half of Seoul?" You rest your hands on his biceps which tense at the touch.

"Uh uh," he tsks in response. "Can't call me that anymore. We share the same name now." He kisses your shoulder then moves his mouth over to a nipple. He licks one first, teasing it with the tip of his tongue until you moan for him to keep going.

"You have such soft boobies," he comments before finally sucking on one. Your head falls back from the pleasure it sends up your spine.

"Do you have to say it like that?"

He switches to the other breast, licking and sucking it firmly like the he'd done previously. "What's wrong with boobies? I like the word."

You chuckle and decide to let him have his fun. Pick you battles __, you hum to yourself.

Jungkook tugs at the string of your underwear after placing one last kiss atop each boob. He slowly pulls the thin material down your legs at your consent and you step out from them.

"Lean against the wall and throw your leg over my shoulder," he tells you on bended knees.

You do as he says, swinging a leg over his shoulder. The movement has his head face to face with your cunt which is not in the least bit dry from all the teasing and grinding earlier.

Jungkook sticks a finger in his mouth, wetting it with his spit and then rubs it back and forth between your folds. The lubrication mixes with your own arousal.

"Jungkook," you whine when he doesn't sink his finger in right away, despite the fact that you're well prepared for it.

He blinks at you through his lashes with a devious smirk. "What?" He asks. "You don't like this?"

"I do but I need more. Please," you beg. "Fingers. In me. Please."

He groans at the way your voice seems to crack the more you beg. Well, he's made you wait long enough. Jungkook pushes his finger into your velvet walls all at once, dragging it back and forth in search of your sweet spot.

He knows he's found it when you instantly buck your hips and the leg that's over his shoulder reflexively clamps down on him.

"Right here?" He curls his finger inside you and it has your pussy already throbbing for him. You don't even have to ask for a second finger before he does the honors himself, sliding another into you then proceeding to make a scissoring motion with both digits. "Or here?" He asks again.

"Anywhere," you barely make out through your gasps. "Just don't stop what you're doing."

"What if I wanna lick your pussy?" He pumps his fingers faster all while maintaining focus on your face. "Make you come all over my tongue."

"God Kook, do whatever you want," you reply and it's all the push he needs to remove his fingers from out of you to replace it with his mouth. "Fuck!" You cry as he desperately licks long stripes up your slippery folds, tongue dipping inside for additional pleasure.

He repeats the motion several times until he decides its not enough and sucks on your clit.

"Oh, that feels so good, fuck, fuck Jungkook," you moan with eyes closed and a shaky breath.

Your legs start trembling as your first orgasm of the night builds inside. It gets closer and closer as Jungkook works faster and faster before finally, the cord inside you breaks free.

Jungkook happily swallows as much of your cum as he can. He uses his wrist to wipes his mouth after, cleaning up any leftover.

"First time eating my wife out," he starts, guiding your leg over his shoulder back on the ground. "What a fucking turn on."

Jungkook stands up and pulls you into an embrace with both hands, your bare bodies press tight against each other. Then, without any warning, he swoops up your legs with one hand supporting your lower back and lifts your into his arms.

"Kook!" You call his name in suddeness of the action.

"Yes? What is it wife?" He carries you to the large, king size bed that's covered in rose petals and lays you on top. His handsome face leans over you with careful, attentive eyes while a hand reaches for one of the soft pillows nearby to slip under your head.

It's now that the weight of the moment hits you, as if you've just doven off a steep cliff and head first into the rushing rapids of the ocean.

"I love you," you say.

Jungkook sticks his thumbs in the band of his underwear and pushes it down until he can easily remove them. He's fully hard when he crawls over top of you after, and places his hands on either side of your head.

"I love you too." He lowers his head to capture your lips into a deep kiss. "Now," he continues, sitting up on his knees and shimmying his thighs up your frame. "I think I might need some help here."

He grips his pulsating length, tan tip leaking with pre-cum. You widen your mouth gladly and he shoves his length to the back of your throat.

"Mm!" You gag but to say you hate it would be a lie.

Jungkook doesn't move at first, letting you get used to the weight of his cock on your tongue first. He bites his lip as you hallow your cheeks the best you can.

"I don't want to come, I just want it wet okay?" He tells you and you nod in understanding. "Fuck, so good," he lets out a throaty growl after the first thrust.

You suck him as hard as you can as he fucks your mouth at a steady pace, making sure his cock will be nice and well-lubricated with your spit this time.

"Can't believe we're married," he thrusts faster, teeth clenching together. "My wife, mine forever. No one else can have you. I won't let them."

You blink your glassy eyes at him, thighs struggling to rub together due to the arousal pooling between your legs for the tenth time tonight.

You love him so fucking much.

Jungkook pulls himself out of your mouth while you're in thought, a string of spit following. He backs himself down your body until he can properly hover over you in a straddling position.

"Legs up," he commands and you wrap them around his waist in a criss-cross position. His wetted length finds your entrance with little guidance and pushes forward, stretching your walls so deliciously well.

"Oh my god," you shudder as his cock sinks all the way in thanks to both of you being incredibly worked up and lubricated. Your hands fly under his arms after two thrusts, to grip his back. "Fuck, you're so deep Kook."

"I know, holy shit," he grunts and beats himself into you. He likes the feeling of your body bouncing up and down underneath him so leans down on his elbows to fuck you faster and harder. "I think this might be the deepest I've been in you baby, so wet for me—fuck!"

He moans loudly when your nails claw his back. "Shit I'm sorry!" You relax your fingers immediately when he winces at the slight pain.

"No," he nips at your jaw. "I like it, keep doing it. Mark me up." He snaps his hips into yours and you claw at his back again, harsher than the last time; not enough to hurt him but enough to make him moan in your ear over and over again.

"Jungkook! Too much," you pant as he burries his head in your neck, trailing hot open mouth kisses to the area. "It's too much, I'm gonna come!"

"Fuck, that's the goal baby!"

"Yeah but, don't wanna come so soo—"

He shuts you up with his tongue shoving between you lips, kissing you with a purpose. You's body squirms at the pleasure and you find yourself clenching around his thick length that yes, twitches in response.

"Three years together and you still think I'll give you one round and call it quits. Since when baby?" He groans as he feels himself achingly close to his high (you too). "Tell me, since fucking when?" He emphasizes once more.

You're too lost in how close you are to your second orgasm to give him an answer.

"That's right, never."

One hard thrust later and you come on his length. It takes little time before he releases in you as well, yet he continues his pace.

"That's one down," Jungkook says, riding out both your orgasms which slowly works you up to another. "Not including any eating out. And if my memory serves our record is five. Don't you think we should surpass that now that we're legally bonded to each other Mrs. Jeon? In sickness and in health was it?"

"I'm still trying to recover from the first two orgasms I had tonight, including the fingering and you relentless dry humping."

"Baby," he coos. "My sweet baby, come here." With both arms Jungkook lifts your body with his until you're both in an upright, seated position. Your legs that were once wrapped around his waist rest on the mattress as he thrust up into your cunt. "Don't you know I just want to make you feel good? Why recover when you can be wrecked so heavenly over and over again?"

You moan and squeeze your hands on his shoulder. Jungkook studies your face, maintaining slow, calculated thrusts into you.

"Come for me again," he says.

And you do, sticky white liquid dripping down to the base of his cock and onto the sheets under you.

"You enjoyed that didn't you?" He smirks. "Let's see you get on all fours now. I'd love to see how well my wife takes it from behind."

You catch him off guard by pushing on his chest and guiding him flat on his back. "Mm no," you refuse him. "I think I'd like to get a taste of my husband as a bottom instead."

Jungkook's cock hardens inside you and his fingers settle around your hips as he smirks up at you. "Go ahead then," he tests. "Try getting yourself off."

"You think I can't do it?" You narrow your eyes and grind forward on his cock, earning you a deep growl from your new husband.

"We'll see how long you'll last before I have to flip you on your back and take over," he spats. "But good luck beautiful."

With a huff and determination in your eyes, you start a strong pace. Jungkook watches you with lustful eyes as you bounce on him– enjoying the show a little too much.

a/n: Thanks for reading! Lmk what you think 🥰

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ayeyolooo · 4 months

Text

DRIFT

PLEASE READ THE WARNING BEFOFE INTERACTING WITH THE STORY!

Warning! Y/n is black!! I write for black readers if you didn’t know already. But anyone can feel free to read this! Connie and eren are Hispanic, and me not knowing how to speak Spanish like at alll unfortunately I have to use the translator💔. Please bare with with y’all😭. There will be an oc :) oh and please excuse my grammatical errors! <3

“Y/n will you be able to come to this race? Cause we don’t have a fourth.” Your friend begged you over the phone. “Kasa, you know ion race no more like that.” You said laying your edges down. Even though you were saying all of this, you were getting ready so that you could race.

“But y/n please please please please.” You just sighed. “Fine.” You said with a giggle. “Yayy omg when you come I’m going to literally kiss you everywhere.” She said as wind blew having the phone make noise on mikasa’z end. “Okay just call me when you get here y/n.” Mikasa said before handing up. You just sighed as you grabbed your purse and walked out the house. You checked and made sure that you had your cash on you cause you had to pay to enter a race.

You unlocked the door and walked up to your purple sports car. It was a little on the older side but that’s what made it unique and exciting. You dragged your hand across the door as you opened it and sat down in the car. You began to pray before you drove off and to the race site.

“Whew.” You sighed before pulling up. When you pulled up no one could see who you were due to your tents being dark. Your engine roared catching the attention of the other racers. Mikasa turned around quickly knowing that you were there because she knew the sound of your car. She and Sasha squealed and jumped up and down with eachother before walking over to your car.

“Kasa who is that?” Jean asked as mikasa opened your door. “One of my friends what will be the fourth today.” She simply said with a large smile on her face.

“Se van a avergonzar.” Connie said with a snort. You just smiled and ran your tongue across your teeth. Eren, ony, and armin all just laughed.

They’re going to embarrass themselves.

“Would you like to show them whose driving?” Mikasa said as she leaned over your car. “Nahhh.” You said shaking your head and smiling revealing your smiley piercing. “Okay we’ll good luck y/n.” Mikasa said taking the was of cash from your hands and pecking your cheek. She closed your door back and walked over to the boys to collect their money too.

“Bru he driving that girl ahh car. How they gone win?” Connie cackled. “Choke.” Mikasa said before taking his money. “When we beat them mikasa you gone have to give us our money back plus $1,000.” Mikasa shrugged. “Mmhm yeah that’s if y’all win.” She said nonchalantly. “Whatchu mean by that?” Mikasa just shrugged.

“When she beat y’all don’t come crying to me,cause y’all was doing all of that talking.” Mikasa shrugged and walked back to the little booth. “SHE!?” All of the boys asked in confusion. They all looked over to your car trying to get s glimpse of how you looked hut couldn’t due to your tents. “READY!” Your adrenaline began to pump. You forgot how good it felt when you were about to race.” You pressed your foot on the gas reviving your engine. You turned on your radio having TBH by party next door come to and end and welcome to the party, by party next door started playing.

The bass from the music blasted in your speakers having your seat vibrate and you just smiled at this exciting moment.

You smiled at the sounds of the other cars. “SET!” You rolled your windows down as you just kept your focus on the road ahead of you. You felt eyes starring at you on the right side of your face. They seen your beautiful brown skin and your red lace wig that complimented your skin.

“GO!” Everyone took off. You turned your music up loud as you smoothly drove past three cars. You were in second place, being that the one with E.Y on the back of his car was in the front. Hm..

There was a turn incoming you stepped on the break and grabbed the clutch having a smooth drift. Due to eren having a slight mess up you flew infront of him. You went around the track two more times before crossing the finish line, having eren after you, and ony after.

You just got out leaning on your car waiting for everyone to finish. Mikasa walked up to you and the both of you smiled and she squealed. “You did yo shit once and againnnnn.” Mikasa said as the both of you laughed. “Yk I had to show out for my gurl.” You said winking at her.

This was sitting in my drafts for a while 💀. Anyways Jesus loves you ml <3

#ayeyolooo #black y/n #aot x black reader #aot x reader #black reader #x black fem reader #aot x black y/n #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon x chubby reader #eren x black fem!reader #connie x black reader

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snitchcrimsonwrites · 8 days

Text

Maybe pt. 4

Pairing: Norm MacLean X Female Reader or OC if you squint

Former friends to a relationship?

Life is pretty easy in Vault 33 until you're trying to rekindle a former friendship and Raiders attack. Now, our main characters are trying to navigate newfound feelings, all while undercovering the mysteries of Vault 33. Stay tuned. Follows the main storyline of season 1; some events may be reordered for plot.

We were supposed to get the big Vault 32 reveal, but this chapter just kept getting longer, so I had to cut it off at some point. Sorry!

Part 1 Here. Part 7 Here

Part 2 Here

Part 3 Here

Part 5 Here

Part 6 Here

The workday was over, and you were ready to get home and relax. You headed down the Vault corridor toward your residence, your mind already planning your evening. Maybe you’d watch a movie, you thought as you entered the pin code to unlock the door. The pressurized door mechanism opened with a rush of air, revealing your main living space. You immediately noticed something had changed since you left this morning. Huh, I don’t remember leaving you here.

A single book rested atop your kitchen table; you didn’t recognize the cover. Puzzled, you reached for the book and flipped it open, trying to jog your memory; as you did, a folded piece of paper fell onto the table.

The paper read, Courtesy of Overseer MacLean ‘s private library—our little secret. N

You flip the cover over and take a better look. You smile. Of course, it’s a Western.

__________________________

The day of Lucy’s wedding had finally arrived. Most in the Vault couldn’t contain their excitement and curiosity. Everyone was interested to see the results of Triennial Trade. Who was this 32 dweller who would be married to their community? The speculation was endless, but the residents of 33 would have to wait until the ceremony.

Norm, on the other hand, was wrestling with a different conundrum this morning. He picked up the folded paper atop his dresser and opened it to re-read the contents.

Courtesy of Overseer MacLean ‘s private library—our little secret. N

For a sickeningly sweet gesture, I, (Y/N), owe you, Norman MacLean, one activity of your choosing.

You will ask her. Don’t chicken out, he repeats to his reflection in the bedroom mirror above the dresser. Whether to ask (Y/N) to dance at Lucy’s wedding has weighed on him for several days. Does she even want me to ask? Would she be embarrassed if I did this in front of everyone? Then what if I don’t ask? Would she be disappointed? This was all too much. Decision fatigue plagued him. He’d read the room. He'd go for it if she seemed interested and the opportunity presented itself.

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

The residents of Vault 33 congregated in the atrium's main square, waiting for Lucy to make her grand entrance. Norm could hear little snippets of separate conversations blending into one.

“The decorations look beautiful!” “I’m so glad the sunflowers bloomed in time for the ceremony. We were getting worried.” “Should I have done something different with my hair?” “Do you think he’ll get the hint and ask me to dance?”

He glances around to see if he can spot you among the other vault dwellers; when he does, the room goes silent. Confused, he turns around to see the source of the crowd’s change in demeanor.

Lucy’s appearance in the upper balcony quieted the crowd.

Norm watches as she comes down the stairs into the main square to greet the onlookers. He can see everyone smiling at the sight of the young woman in her wedding dress, including his dad.

“Dad,” she chuckles. Stepping forward so he can admire his little girl.

“My little sugar bomb,” their dad says as he embraces her.

“Gosh, you look just like your mother,” pride exuding from his voice.

“Yeah, I wish she was here.”

“Me too.”

“Were you scared?” “When you married mom?” Norm hears Lucy ask.

“Me?” he scoffs. “Terrified. I’d never set foot outside of Vault 31.”

“When did it go away?”

“The moment I met your mother.”

How Norm wished his mother could be here to see this day. While today is supposed to be happy, her absence creates a veil of sadness he can see behind Lucy and his father’s eyes. She was supposed to be here to witness her daughter get married, to see them both grow up. He tries to push the sad thoughts and focus on the moment. If he cried on her wedding day, Lucy would never let him live it down.

“From that moment on, Vault 31 was a distant memory.” Hank continued.

“Overseer, it’s time,” Betty announces to the pair. They take that as their cue, Hank extending his arm to his daughter and the remainder of the group filing in behind them. Norm takes his spot directly behind his Dad and Lucy. You notice and follow suit a few steps behind.

As the group approaches the vault corridor connecting Vault 32 and 33 opens with a whoosh, and they begin the walk that will change their lives forever.

Norm shuffles ahead quickly to end up beside his sister. He can’t pass up the opportunity to engage in some sibling teasing.

“Must be nerve-racking. Your husband could be anybody.”

“I’m aware,” Lucy retorts. Rolling her eyes at his teasing.

“And as for his looks?”

“Who knows?” she replies. Norm is impressed; she seems remarkably nonchalant in her response. He decides to take it up a notch.

“Big butt? No butt? But of course, they are just superficial concerns. It’s what’s on the inside that counts.”

“That’s right!” their dad affirms, looking back at his children, hoping they will give it a rest today, of all days.

“And in that respect, he could be a cannibal or just like crammed full of tumors.” Norm barely gets the words out before Lucy swats him with her bouquet.

“Norman.” Hank scolds.

“Sorry, Dad,” Norm concedes.

Finally, they’re outside the main entrance of Vault 32. Showtime.

Hank checks his Pip-Boy and gives Chet the okay to open the gate. Norm was surprised at his composure, given the situation. Everyone in Vault 33 knows he’s down bad for his sister. He and (Y/N) expected at least some reaction from Chet today.

Chet connects his Pip-Boy to the mag lock. Nothing happens.

“Honestly…” Chet sighs.” It's a Textbook tumbler jam. It’s going to take some time to fix.”

There is it, Norm thinks. He’s SO not okay with this. Norm snickers internally and turns around to catch your eye. You return his glance as if to say, we SO called it.

Lucy steps over to take control of the situation, and after a few hushed exchanges, Chet relents.

The alarms sound, and the door to Vault 32 rolls back, revealing the residents out from behind its cover.

Norm watched as his dad stepped in front of the group from 33 to welcome their new guests.

“Welcome neighbors from Vault 32.” He says with outstretched arms. “ I am Hank MacLean, Overseer of Vault 33.”

A dark-haired woman steps forward in matching fashion.

“Lee Moldaver, Overseer of 32. Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Oh, we were sorry to hear of Overseer Jackson’s passing in your telegrams.”

“When blight hit our wheat, we lost a lot of good people, but this trade will help get us back on our feet.”

Norm frowned as he heard the words leave the opposing Overseer’s mouth. Why did she have to phrase it like that? Disdain bubbled up into his throat. Moldaver’s words made this whole event seem purely transactional. He means he knows it IS a transaction between vaults, meant to keep those in the vaults surviving, but these were people, and that was his sister. His sister, whom someone loosely compared to a few bushels of wheat. Only he was allowed to comment on his sister that way. When he did it, it was just two siblings mocking one another; when an outsider does it, it’s a step too far.

Norm was so caught up in analyzing Moldaver’s words that he missed the remainder of the Overseers’ exchange. Suddenly, a rather scruffy 32 dweller stood out before both groups—Lucy’s new husband.

Overseer MacLean was the one to break the ice. “Now that we’re acquainted, if everyone can move into the main square of the atrium, we can begin the ceremony,” ushering everyone to move back through the vault entrance.

Norm hangs back from the front of the crowd to walk back with you.

“Lucy seemed particularly happy with her new husband,” you comment.

“Yeah, she's a little too happy. I still hope he has one ridiculously unexpected flaw, like being massively afraid of the dark. So bad he has to sleep with the lights on or maybe a nightlight, just to make things interesting.”

“You’re incorrigible,” you reply, shaking your head.

______________________________

The ceremony was completed, and everyone took their seats at the picnic tables in Vault 33’s atrium. You couldn’t help but look around and admire the decorations. The “outdoor” space always turns out lovely when decorated for weddings. It was the same with Steph’s wedding two years prior.

You continue taking everything in from your seat, focusing to admire the various spots decorated around the Vault’s main space. You spy Norm at an opposing table with Vault 32’s Overseer. You suppose his dad might have placed him there strategically, perhaps as a political test; it wouldn’t be surprising that he’d want his son to follow in his footsteps as Overseer. That would be quite the sight. Norm had the potential without question; you weren’t sure he wanted the responsibility. He catches you staring and gives you an awkward wave back.

You flash him a toothy smile in return. It’s becoming harder to ignore how much your feelings for Norm have grown. In just a few short weeks, you went from hardly giving him a second thought to having him consume your waking thoughts. While you two were generally ignoring each other, it was easy not to notice how much he had grown into his features, and you couldn’t deny you found them attractive. Handsome. Not to mention how he has always made you feel comfortable being yourself around him. No masking, no walls, just you. Would becoming more than friends ruin your dynamic? Was his friendship something you'd risk?

You didn’t get more time to dwell on your feelings as Overseer MacLean started his speech from atop the stage. You redirected your drifting attention.

“Good evening, and welcome to the proud denizens of Vault 32. We are bonded not just as neighbors but by a shared duty. To keep the candle of civilization lit. While the rest of the world has been cast into darkness. Soon, if our measurements are correct, radiation levels on the surface are dropping fast enough that the next generation, Lucy and Monty’s children, will be able to recolonize.”

Your fellow Vault 33 neighbors erupt into cheers and applause while the other Overseer, Moldaver? visibly tenses. Huh. Maybe she’s just as afraid of Reclamation as some of other dwellers. The whole concept is terrifying enough for people who have never left the safety of the Vault.

Overseer MacLean continues as the volume from the crowd subsides.

“After 200 years, we don’t know much about what’s up there: desperation, violence, lawlessness. These survivors will need to be shown a better way. I’ll admit sometimes I’m afraid that mean old world will change us instead. But then I look at my daughter, who’s such a beautiful bride, and her new husband. And I am not afraid. I feel hope. To Lucy MacLean. And to this marriage. And to hope!”

Another round of celebration emanates from the Vault dwellers, and he starts off stage—but not without one final decree: “Let’s dance! Hit it.”

The command stirs the jukebox to life, playing “Some Enchanted Evening,” and the Overseer extends a hand out to Lucy for their father-daughter dance.

♫ Who can explain it?

Who can tell you why?

Fools give you reasons,

Wise men never try. ♫

As you watch Lucy’s tender moment with her dad, you cannot help but feel a tinge of sadness for a moment you’ll never have. They’ve become fewer and farther between, but times like this really make you miss your dad. You continue to watch them pushing out the feelings of jealousy and embracing the joy you felt for your friend.

Suddenly, they break apart. Urging another off to the side to join them. Norm. You see him shake his head disapprovingly but gets to his feet anyway; he knows a losing battle when he sees one. Soon, all three of them are on the dancefloor, embracing and swaying to the music. You think your heart might melt at the sight.

♫ Some enchanted evening

When you find your true love,

When you feel her call you

Across a crowded room, ♫

As the MacLeans start to separate from their family moment, Lucy notices your presence off to the side of the dancefloor and flashes you a “stay here there, I’m coming to you” gesture with her hands as she heads in your direction. You embrace her in a celebratory hug when she makes it to you.

“Congratulations!” you offer up enthusiastically. “You make a stunning bride.”

“Thank you! It’s all so exciting, isn’t it?!” she says, matching your tone. She shifts her position slightly, taking your hands and moving her mouth closer to your ear. In a whisper, she asks, “ I was hoping to ask if you’d do my brother the honor of sharing a dance?” She pulled back into your line of sight, completing the request with a signature Lucy puppy-dog stare. “Consider it my wedding present.”

“How could I say no to that?” you respond with a laugh. Still holding your hands and smiling ear to ear, Lucy ushers you back to her family.

♫ Then fly to her side,

And make her your own

For all through your life you

May dream all alone. ♫

As the two of you approach, you can see Overseer MacLean gently elbow-nudging a mortified-looking Norm.

“I saw (Y/N) by herself on the edge of the dancefloor and thought someone might like to invite her to dance?” Lucy says as she offers your hand up to Norm.

“I’d be happy to,” he replies, taking hold of your hand to lead you onto the dance floor. With a surprising amount of flourish, he pulls the two of you into a traditional slow dance pose, his right hand in yours and left hand resting softly on your waist. Your bodies tucked unexpectedly close against one another.

“Sorry about that,” Norm pips up, shooting daggers in Lucy’s general direction, which she returns, blowing him a kiss back. “You know how she can be when she gets an idea in her head—unrelenting.”

“I don’t mind; I was actually hoping you’d ask. Your sister just guaranteed the odds.”

He looks up at you, and his expression softens. You two fall into a comfortable silence, enjoying the moment and each other’s company. Swaying back and forth to the music, the world melts away behind you. It’s short-lived, though, as the Overseer makes his way back towards you and his son.

“Sorry, I will need to steal Norm away for a second,” the Overseer states as he places a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Just one family photo, and I’ll give him back,” he reassures you with a wink.

“Not a problem,” you manage, hiding your obvious disappointment.

“Find you after.” Norm declares, keeping a loose grasp on your hand as the two of you pull away, clearly not wanting to let go just yet.

You give him a nod, relinquishing his hand.

♫ Some enchanted evening ♫

#norm maclean #norm maclean x oc #norm maclean x reader #fallout tv series

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prostocupoftea · 22 days

Text

Kinitopet Programmers AU

finally i am finished with this one, daaaamn

it is hard to draw pathetic men with midlife crisis when your style is mostly for anime boys

more info and sketch version under the cut!!

sketch version aka how it'll probably look like in comic version 'n some doodles

srry for my writing but i was too laisy to put it as regular text

It is a plot-based au, i already have most of the storybits and like... a vibe-chart (i tried to make a playlist for this au and understood that for different chapters and different characters that'd be a copleatly different music, sooo it's a chart now :) )

i will post a fog-o-wared timeline that im hopefully gonna reveal comic-by comic, but also maybe with just pure writing. Hopefully i can include songs that i chose for them into it but we'll see (:

aaand of course designs can change, hopefully not much but we'll see

Now about au:

Main story:

Story follows non-sentient AI Kinito, his creator Sonny and his beta-tester Victoria (oc)

Being literally the first AI (or RRA in-univere) ever, Kinito does not have any, and i mean, any ai safety features so of course his reponce to a goal phrased as "have user near me and/or interacting with me as much as possible" is digitizing them into his own virtual world while killing them in the process. why wouldn't it be?

So that happened. Like, a lot. And with Sonny and Vic too (at the different time but yeah)

Sonny is like "He kills people. We should turn him off because, you know, killing people is bad."

Vic is like "well, we will die if we do that, and it is not that bad here, we are kinda immortal. We should give him acces to changing his initial instalation code before admin priveleges and acces to social media so we can have everythin we want here. It is not that bad to digitize humanity, yk?" and yes i know it is 90, no social media, but shut up, if they made ai then, then i can make twitter then too

Sonny is like "...no??"

And then they fight about it for million chapters

Also they both can't do anything without agreeing bc they have two parts of that admin access key (the data you use to delete kinito in-game) so they are stuck with eachother (also that's why Kinito can't just kill them)

Little facts that may or may not to be important:

Kinito asks so many questions (and weird once too) and has most of the glitches because he needs to analise your responces to copy your mind perfectly (let's pretend that people wouldn't lie about that...)

Your house in your virtual world is made from important places from your memories and oh boy can i do character explorations with this one

I decided that Sonny and Vic are not related. There were thoughts about making then "The Kinito Brothers" (or, at least, siblings) that were mentioned in commercial, but nah, they are just coworkers now. And a bit of work-friends (bc if you interact a lot as a manager of the project and the best worker might as well be friendly)

Author has no idea how small dying toy companies that accidentally create technological marvel work. Author has some idea how AI-s work. So be prepared to be spoon-fed info abut which ai safety problem we are dealing with in which chapter (:

Kinito will mostly be unrendered (as drawn here) but for some cool moments i might pose him as for my other posts. Also his eye placement changes to the side that is most visible because i want him to be able to look to the right side sometimes--

Also when i say "fucked up mentally" i mean they have that them psychological problems with me projecting heavilly B) (guess on who i project most. trick question. all of them. the whole au is my problems split into three characters and forced to interact B) )

Also sea-creature analogies (that are gonna be mentioned like twice):

Victoria is a flying fish because deep character reasons

Sonny is a pufferfish because i said so

oh also there is 7 deaths in the plot as for now

on 3 characters

good luck figuring out who, how and when ((:

for my own sanity i will probably make little doodles where everything is great and kinito is a good guy and not a number-obsessed maniac (i mean... can u imagine not being able to feel any happiness from anything besides one thing... damn...) and you can differenciate them bc good-guy kinito will have a lot of stickers on him (i will explain it somehow but real reason is just bc it is cute af)

like this but even more stickers (he is unfinished here)

#oh btw. i have no official name for it yet. it is programmers bc main characters are programmers. but like.#i want to make a real name for em somewhere down the line #but for now they are #kinitopet programmers au #i was really stressing about how “not-canon” sonny looks #and then i was like. girl. only time he was in canon he was a black blob with one eye. and even that is not surely him.#so i chilled out. as i should B)#i am so tired from this rn tho #kinitopet #kinito pet #kinitopet au #kinito the axolotl #kinitopet fanart #kinito fanart #sonny c #kinitopet sonny #sonny chamberlain #kinitopet oc #bruh i hope this will go better than my hazbin hotel fic (i still want to write it sooo muchhhhhh--- i love my oc and story i am just-----#out of the fandom rn----- damn thats so sad)

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matty-bear · 2 months

Text

XI. Out [N.S]

type: The Influencer series FINALE

pairing: nick sturniolo x male!oc

warnings: sfw, tooth-rotting fluff, implications of sex (NO SMUT !!)

summary: in which Finn and Nick come clean about their relationship to the fans on the Cut The Camera Podcast

notes: oh em geeee the influencer is done :000 I’m so grateful for all the support you guys have given me while Ive been working on this series <3 I could have never finished this series without you guy;s love and support fr fr . I might re write this after I write a bit more but I’m happy with how this series is right now ! hopefully you guys are fed with this but if youre not, don't fret there will be more finn and nick content in the near future ^^ thank you again for joining me on this ride and i hope to see you guys on my future works ! <3 p.s., hope you guys dont mind this extra long chapter ;3

WC: 8033

CH10

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

“My love~” The sound of Finn's voice echoing from their dimly lit shared bathroom causes Nick to abruptly lift his head from the pillow he’s laying on.

“Yes?” Nick replies as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. The soft sound of footsteps pattering against the floorboards sounds through the male's ears as he swings his legs over the side of the bed.

“I should've done my skincare last night.” Nick didn’t need to lift his head to know that Finn was frowning. His tone sounded nothing but upset and Nick's claim seems to be correct when he lifts his head to be met with his boyfriend slightly pouting.

“What makes you say that? Did you break out or something?” Nick instinctively grasps Finn's hips to pull him in between his legs. He watches as his boyfriend slowly nods and removes his hand from the left side of his face to reveal a small, baby blue star patch.

“I got a pimple.” Finn raises a finger to point at the covered pimple, his frown not faltering. Before Nick gets the chance to add to the conversation, Finn sighs deeply and takes a seat on his boyfriend’s leg. “I envy you and your clear skin.”

“Do you now?” Finn rapidly nods his head as he rests his chin on Nick's semi-clothed shoulder.

“Yeah. You rarely break out. And when you do, it doesn’t take you very long to get rid of the pimples of whatever pops up on your skin.”

Nick simply hums softly and begins to drag his fingertips against Finn’s clothes back. “Baby, I have a question for you.”

“What is it?”

“I was talking with Matt and Chris last night about us coming clean about our relationship to the fans. They both made some pretty good points and I wanted to know if you were okay with coming to join us for a podcast so we can, you know, properly come out and I can introduce you to everyone as my boyfriend. It was either that or doing it in a car video but I feel like fans would want to know more about you, especially if they don’t follow you on social media, so they can get to know how wonderful you are from you from the podcast. What do you say? we’ll be filming the episode later today so you practically have all day to think about it.”

The faint sound of Finn humming runs through Nick's ears for a moment, followed by the soft vibrations of his chest against his arm. “I'm down.”

Nick's eyes light up as he leans back slightly to peer down at Finn. “really?”

The taller hums again with a small smile as he gets up from his spot on Nick's leg. “As long as I get to sit next to you in the studio and if Chris and Matt aren’t gonna tease us the entire time.”

“Well, I can't promise you that, but I'll talk to them later. Anyways, where are you going? Come back.”

“I need to change!” A small laugh escapes Finn’s lips as he excuses himself to go to the closet. Upon opening the door and letting himself inside the small space, Nick quickly gets up from his spot on the bed and rushes over to the male. The moment he steps foot inside his closet, his eyes narrow as he watches his boyfriend shift through his rack of sweatshirts.

“What are you doing?” Nick asks, his arms crossing over his chest.

Finn momentarily shifts his gaze from the hangers in front of him to look over at his boyfriend who’s leaning against the doorframe. He sends the male a soft smile and returns to shifting through the hangers before he replies, “Finding a sweatshirt to wear.”

“In my closet?”

“Yeah.” Nick rolls his eyes as Finn finally settles on a clothing item. The redhead can practically see the happiness and excitement radiating off his boyfriend as he slips a black sweatshirt with large gray stars off a hanger. He watches as Finn quickly flips the item around to allow Nick to see it, a cheesy smile clear as day on his lips.

“This is what you bought on our first date.” Finn says, his arms quickly getting to work on getting the sweatshirt over his head.

“First date?” Nick asks, a single eyebrow raising as he watches his boyfriend’s head pop out of the top of the sweater.

Finn lets out a small sigh as the familiar smell of vanilla runs through his senses. “Yeah, first date. Well, I considered it to be a little date, a blind one in a sense if you get what I mean.”

“You know, we haven’t gone out on a proper date in a while.” At Nick's statement, Finn can't help but smile widely. As he approaches the redhead, he slowly wraps his arms around the shorter’s waist and peers down at him.

“Is that a way of telling me that you want to go on a proper date?” Finn asks, his smile not faltering as he watches Nick’s facial expressions carefully.

“Obviously, yes. I’ve actually been planning a little date for a few days now.” Nick smiles as he watches Finn’s eyes mimic those of a child being surprised on Christmas day. “Before you say anything, that’s all I'm telling you.”

Finn’s excited expression drops and is quickly replaced with a small frown. “Oh come on~” The male whines as he begins to sway himself and Nick back and forth. “Just another hint, please?”

“Nope. You're just gonna have to wait.” As Nick slips out of Finn’s hold and exits the closet, the latter gasps dramatically and quickly follows him.

“Come on, please?”

“Nope.” Finn lets out a small whine as he follows Nick downstairs. He quickly turns the corner when the male enters the kitchen and he immediately leans against the counter closest to Nick with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Well, good morning you two.” Matt greets as he passes the kitchen upon exiting his bedroom, his mop of messy and fluffy chocolate brown hair being a sign of his good night’s rest.

Finn quickly turns his head around to face the younger male. “Oh hey.” Matt shares a quick smile with Finn as he walks towards the fridge.

“So…” The brunette starts as he grabs a bottle of root beer off the top shelf. “Are we having a guest join us for the podcast today?”

At Matt’s straightforward question, Nick quickly shifts his gaze from the small ceramic bowl in his hands to Finn who’s next to him. The redhead shares a quick look with his boyfriend before the taller smiles softly and looks over at Matt who’s taking small sips of the beverage in his hand.

“I believe so, yes.” Finn replies with a small head nod. Matt lets out an excited shout before he makes his way over to the couple on the opposite side of the kitchen.

“Did it take a lot of convincing?” Matt diverts his question to Nick who’s busy stirring a serving of dry cereal in the milk in his bowl. He waits for the older to take a quick bite and swallow the contents before he replies, “Not really no. I just gave him a quick rundown of what happened last night and he agreed to join us today.”

After seeing Matt look over at him, Finn gently nods his head with a small smile. “Well, I’m glad you’re joining us today, Finn.” Matt says as he takes another quick sip of his root beer. “Should I start prepping questions with Chris then?”

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. When you guys are done, send me the list.” Nick replies with a small head nod.

“Alright, I'll go do that then. See you guys later.” Matt sends a quick wave goodbye to Nick and Finn as he excuses himself to go back to his bedroom. After ensuring that the male shuts the door behind him, Finn immediately wraps his arms around Nick’s waist and pulls him flush against his chest.

At the sudden movement, the redhead lets out a small noise of surprise and removes the spool full of cereal from his mouth before it spills. After setting the utensil down in the nearly empty bowl, Nick turns his head to be met with a smiley Finn who’s resting his head on his shoulder.

“Can we go back to bed please?” Finn asks, his speech slightly muffled due to his mouth being inches away from the exposed skin on Nick’s shoulder.

“Baby, it’s 2 o’clock in the afternoon.” Nick starts, his eyes momentarily shifting over to the microwave nearby to double-check the time. “I don't think it’s a good idea to go to bed right now. Besides, if you want to cuddle, we can do it in the living room.”

“Fine.” Finn huffs slightly, his grip on Nick’s waist tightening ever so slightly. “Hurry up. You're taking too long.”

“Calm down Mr. Eager. I'm almost done.” Finn impatiently watches as Nick picks up his spoon and scoops up a few pieces of cereal and some milk. At the sight of the male slowly risking the utensil to his slightly opened mouth, Finn groans and drops his head to his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“You hate me.” Nick can’t help but chuckle at the taller’s statement and quickly stuffs the food in his mouth before going for another portion.

“Glad you're aware of the fact so I don’t have to verbally say it.” Nick bites back a laugh when he hears Finn gasp dramatically. He watches from the corner of his eye as the male stands upright, his mouth wide open in shock drawing a small chuckle from him.

“That's so disrespectful.” Finn waits for Nick to eat the contents from his spoon before he lands a poke on his side. The redhead flinches at the small touch and quickly whips around to narrow his eyes at the taller.

“No, it’s not.” Nick defends as he points the tip of his spoon at the male.

“Yes, it is.” Finn frowns, “Hurry up and finish your cereal.”

“You’re the one that interrupted me.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just hurry up please I’m getting cold.”

“Baby, you have a whole-ass sweater on. The only person here that should be cold is me.” Nick gestures to the white tank top hugging his torso before he turns around to face his bowl again.

“Hey, you’re the one that decided to change out of your shirt to put this on.” Finn starts, his pointer finger hooking underneath the strap on Nick’s tank top. “You could’ve left it on.”

“Okay true,” Nick mumbles, his speech slightly muffled due to the food in his mouth. Finn simply hums as he watches the redhead walk over to the skin to wash his dish.

After turning off the tap and wiping his hands dry, Nick makes his way over to Finn and wordlessly grabs his hand to guide the two of them to the living room. The shorter momentarily releases his hand from Finn’s to sit down as as he reaches over to grab a pillow, the taller’s eyes stay glued to Nick’s arms which slightly flex as he reaches over.

“I can feel you starting. Well, see you staring as well.” Nick states, his eyes momentarily shifting up to see his boyfriend before he fixes it back onto the pillow in his hand.

“Are you sure you haven’t been working out?” Finn asks, a single hand resting on his hip as the other points at Nick. The latter quickly raises his head at his boyfriend’s question and chuckles softly before reaching forward to grab his waist.

“Finn, we've been around each other almost every single day. I think you would know if I was working out.” Nick guides Finn to sit in his lap before he continues, “Besides, you know damn well I'm not about that physical activity shit.”

Finn can’t help but giggle at Nick's last statement. “Oh trust me, I know. But I'm just saying that you got a little muscle building up.”

Nick raises an eyebrow at the taller tucking his head in the crook of his neck. “I heavily beg to differ but whatever you say.”

“Look, I'm not lying!” Finn quickly removes himself from his spot in Nick’s neck to grab into his arm. His hand quickly shifts up to the male’s bicep and the moment he squeezes the area, he feels the shorter tense underneath his fingers. “You definitely have some muscles here. Look, just flex a little.”

“Finn, I am not flexing.”

“Come on, why not.”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

Nick lets out a small sigh and looks over at Finn, the sight of his puppy eyes causing his heart to ache. “Alright, enough of that.” He gently sets his hand on the taller’s face to push him away. “If I flex my arm will you paint your nails with me?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely. Now flex, cmon!” Nick sighs yet again and waits for Finn to remove his hand from his bicep before he quickly flexes his arm. At the excited shout escaping his boyfriend’s mouth, Nick instinctively hides his face behind his hand. “You do have muscles you fucking liar!”

Nick doesn’t say anything and instead shakes his head in response. Finn playfully rolls his eyes at the male before he grabs the hand covering his face and slowly pries it away. “Why are you so flustered?” Finn teases, a large smile appearing on his lips at the sight of his boyfriend’s flushed face.

“Shut it,” Nick mumbles as he leans forward to hide in Finn’s chest. The latter giggles at his boyfriend and cards a hand through his dark red locks before landing a small peck on the crown of his head.

_____

“Baby, you know you don’t have to do a full face of makeup right? It’s not like we’re going out in public.” Nick says as he steps into his bathroom, his fingers getting to work on zipping up a purple sweater that’s loosely hung on his shoulders.

“It’s just guy-liner I swear.” Finn defends, his tall frame leaning back from the mirror to look over at the male standing next to him. He gives his boyfriend a small smile before lifting the eyeliner underneath his eye again. Nick sighs softly and shakes his head as he lifts himself on the counter. He wastes no time in grabbing Finn’s free hand and fiddling with the few rings hugging his fingers. The latter, noticing the male’s change in behavior, momentarily stops what he’s doing to look over at him. “My love?”

Nick quickly lifts his head to meet Finn’s worried gaze. “Yeah?”

“You’re nervous. What’s wrong?”

“Nervous? Pshh. I’m not nervous.” Finn exhales deeply through his nose before turning his body so he’s fully facing Nick. He sends the male a knowing look before saying, “You don’t think I noticed that you play with my rings when you're nervous?”

Nick forces his lips into a straight line and allows his gaze to fall back down to Finn’s hand which is still in his gasp. “Okay, maybe I am a little nervous.”

A small frown makes its way onto Finn’s lips before he takes a step close to Nick and sets his free hand on his clothed thigh. “Why?”

“Don’t know.”

“Nick…” As Finn cups the latter’s face with a single hand, Nick sighs softly and looks up at him. “Is it because this is gonna be the first video that’s gonna be posted of us being together?” Nick slowly nods his head. “Oh baby, you don’t need to be nervous about this. Just think about it like this; When this podcast gets uploaded, we can finally be open to doing whatever we want. You want us to be free with this, right?” Nick nods again. “Okay, then let’s get this done and we can do that.”

Finn lands a quick peck on the younger’s forehead before returning to his space in front of the mirror. As he touches up his slightly smudged eyeliner, the faint sound of the door opening alerts Nick and causes his head to quickly lift and turn towards the sound.

“You guys getting ready to go on the catwalk or what? The hell's taking so long?” The annoyed voice of Chris echoes in the bedroom as the male steps inside and makes a beeline for the open bathroom. The male sighs softly and crosses his arms over his chest when his eyes land on Nick and Finn who have both stopped what they’re doing. Finn slowly turns his head around to meet eyes with Chris, the hand that’s holding his eyeliner still inches away from his eye.

“Just give us five more minutes,” Finn says with a soft huff.

“Can you knock, please? You have no manners.” Nick mumbles as he lightly shoves Chris’s shoulder to push him out of the bathroom.

“Whatever. Just hurry up please.” Chris rolls his eyes with a small sigh before he exits the room and gently shuts the door behind him.

“You done?” Nick asks, turning his head to look over at his boyfriend who’s ruffling his hair.

“Yeah, I'm done,” Finn replies as he shakes his head, his slightly curly bangs flopping down neatly over his forehead. “Wait, do you wanna wear something of mine before we head to the studio?”

“Wear something of yours?” Nick repeats, a single eyebrow-raising.

“Yeah.” Finn hums and guides the shorter out of the bathroom. “Since I'm wearing your sweater, you could wear the one I wore here. The fans would see that we’re wearing each other's clothes and they would freak out about it.”

Nick softly hums as he watches Finn walk over to the stack of neatly folded clothes sitting on his desk. “I’m down.” As the redhead unzips his sweater and shrugs it off his body, Finn slips a hoodie with dark green and black stripes out from his pile of clothes. He walks over to Nick, the item in his right hand, and gives his boyfriend a small smile before handing it to him. “Will it fit me?”

Finn’s smile immediately drops and he narrows his eyes at his boyfriend who gently slips the hoodie out of his hand. “Nick, are you serious?”

“Dead serious. I’m clearly larger than you and have never worn your clothes before so.”

“Nick… You act like you're two sizes larger than I am. You’ll be fine, baby. Just put it on.” Nick glances up at Finn and sends him an anxious expression before hesitantly slipping the hoodie over his head.

He swiftly pulls his arms through the sleeves and pulls down the end of the clothing item once it’s fully on him. Nick takes a moment to stare down at his torso and examine the hoodie loosely hugging his torso before he looks up and gives a small smile to Finn.

“See? It fits you!” Finn beams with a wide smile. He walks closer to Nick and begins to fix his hair which was messed up while he was putting his hoodie on. As he begins to card his slim fingers through his boyfriend’s hair, the redhead hums softly and subconsciously leans into the touch.

“Yeah, I guess it does.” Nick hums softly. “I think we should go to the studio before Chris beats our ass.”

“I think so too. Let’s go, c'mon.” Finn takes Nick’s hand in his and intertwines their fingers before he pulls him to the door. The moment they both step out of the room, they enter the brightly lit podcast studio.

At the sound of a door softly shutting, Matt perks his head up and looks over at Nick and Finn who are walking towards the pink and white booth he’s sitting in.

“Finally.” Matt sighs as he shuts his phone off and tucks it under his leg. “Was starting to think that you two would never show up.”

“Okay, calm down. We’re here, are we not?” Nick says, shooting a glare toward the younger. The male steps aside when he reaches the booth to allow Finn to take a seat first. After his boyfriend settles in front of a mic at the edge of the table, Nick slips into his usual spot in the booth as well.

“Everyone good with their spots?” Chris asks, mainly asking his question to Finn. As he gently sets his hands on both sides of his mic, Finn abruptly lifts his head to meet Chris’ gaze. After locking eyes with the boy, he gently nods his head and shoots the male a small smile.

“The cameras are on right?” Nick asks, his eyes drifting from the various cameras tucked in the corners of the room.

“Yeah, they’re on. We’re all good to go, kid. Start when you’re ready.” Matt confirms with a small head nod.

Nick lets out a small exhale through his nose before looking over at Finn who’s sitting fairly close to him, however not close to the point they’d be in the same camera frame. The taller looks over at the younger and swiftly takes his hand that’s under the table.

As he begins to trace comforting circles on the back of the redhead’s hand, Nick cracks a smile and averts his attention back to his mic. He looks down at it for a moment and glances over Chris, who gives him an encouraging head nod. Nick nods faintly, more as a reassurance thing for himself, before he looks towards his camera.

“Good morning Campers and welcome back to the Cut The Camera Podcast!” Nick greets, a warm smile immediately taking over his features. “I am Nick Sturniolo and I will be your favorite host for today's episode.”

“Yeah, yeah favorite host my ass.” Matt mumbles, rolling his eyes for a brief moment before he looks at his respective camera. “I’m Matt by the way.”

“And I'm Chris!” The youngest triplets exclaims, a large smile clear as day on his face. The male plays his imaginary air guitar for a moment and mimics the sound of the said instrument before he stops and rests his hands on the table in front of him.

“I’m going to go ahead and do the small introduction for this episode because someone over here is getting nervous.” Matt begins, his eyes shifting over to lock with Nick’s who sends him a warning glare. “Today is a very special episode because we have someone joining us today. You guys might know this person, some of you may not, but I'll allow Nick to introduce this person to you guys. Nick?”

“Thanks Matt,” Nick mumbles, his voice trailing off as he subconsciously begins to fidget with Finn’s fingers under the table.

“Is that sarcasm?”

“That’s up to your interpretation.” Matt shakes his head with a soft sigh as Nick looks over at his boyfriend. The redhead can’t help but smile when the male sends him a small wink and quickly looks away from him to look at his camera. “Today joining us in the studio is my boyfriend, Finn. Would you like to introduce yourself to the viewers and or listeners?”

“I’d love to.” Finn replies with a small smile. He brings his mic closer to his mouth with his free hand before he continues, “Hey guys, I’m Finn as you may know. I am 21 years old and have been dating Nick for almost three months now. I am a full-time Instagram influencer but am close to being a full-time model as well.”

“Wait, you're close to being a full-time model? I thought that was a side job you had.” Chris asks, his head tilting to the side as he looks over at the blue-haired male.

“Yeah, it was a side job but since my manager, shoutout to Kim.” Finn starts, making a small finger heart with his free hand before he continues, “Has been booking me a lot more, I’ve been getting more modeling opportunities. It’s like every other day that I need to go to a shoot so I'd say that I'm very close to modeling full-time.”

“This isn’t a question we have prepped but since we’re on the topic, would you drop Instagram if you did decide to go full-time with modeling? I know that job is a lot, from what I hear from you, and I'm just wondering if it’d be a little difficult to juggle two jobs at once.”

“That’s a very good question hmm..” Finn ponders for a moment, his lips momentarily shifting into a straight line as he thinks. “I don’t think so, no. Instagram means a lot to me considering how much of a following I have on there and everything. Not to mention how I started my entire career there so I think that suddenly dumping Instagram would be a lot. I’ve been healthy balancing that and modeling with no problem right now so keeping up my account shouldn’t be a problem if and when I decide to go full-time with modeling.”

“I see, I see.” Matt hums, “Was it hard making a face for yourself on social media through Instagram? I feel like it’s a lot harder for people to reach popularity through Instagram since there’s so much on there. Also, guys, don’t worry we will get into relationship questions here in a minute.”

Finn chuckles softly at Matt’s last statement, his head dropping for a second before he looks back up and replies, “It was a little difficult, yes but I just kept being constant with posts and stuff. I feel like the key to growing on any base is being consistent so that’s exactly what I did. I did experience some setbacks a few years into gaining popularity but I got over them eventually.”

“When did you start social media? Like age-wise.” Chris asks.

“I wanna say like 16,” Finn replies with a small head nod. “I wanted to start way younger but my parents didn’t let me so.”

“I feel like 16 is a decent age to start this stuff at. I mean we started our YouTube career at 17 and just continued to work towards getting popularity. I was about to say fame but I find that a little corny. Besides, I think fame is too big of a word to describe what we have right now.”

“I completely agree with the fame thing. I would never use that term to describe myself, no matter how big I get. I just feel like that’s more of a celebrity term. You know, singers and actors usually have that term tied to their names.”

“Yes! I completely agree!” Matt exclaims, his voice raising a few octaves as he points a single finger at Finn.

“Great minds think alike,” Finn says with a large smile. The two share a quick handshake before Chris breaks the small silence.

“Nick, I haven't heard from you in a good minute. You doing okay over there?” Chris asks, a teasing smile creeping onto his lips as he glances over at the older who’s staring at his boyfriend.

“Huh?” Nick hums, quickly snapping out of his gaze when Chris’ voice runs through his ears. “Oh, yeah I'm fine.”

“He’s been staring at Finn this whole time. Is the sun shining out of his ass or something?” Matt asks, adding to the teasing as he nudges Nick with his foot.

“Alright, enough of that. I didn’t sign up to sit through an hour of teasing from the two of you.” Nick mumbles, shifting his gaze from Finn to his two brothers. As he seemingly stares daggers at the two, Finn speaks up.

“I can smell the edits now,” Finn says with a small laugh. “Oh my God, the way he looks at him.”

“Not you too,” Nick says, his jaw dropping slightly as he looks over at his boyfriend who’s already gazing down at him.

“I gotta agree with Finn here. I’m gonna see a shit ton of edits of the two of you on my for you page after this episode is out.” Chris chimes in, his speech slightly muffled due to his hands covering and rubbing his face.

“Speaking of which!” Finn exclaims with a small smile, “If you guys make any edits of Nick, tag me in them, please. I need to see every single Nick edit in existence for me to live a happy life, thank you.”

“Baby, I'm literally right here. Why do you need to see edits of me when I'm right next to you?” Nick asks, his eyebrows furring together as a bewildered expression takes over his features. Before he allows Finn to reply, he points at his camera and says, “Do the same with me please but for Finn edits, thanks.”

“Okay, fucking hypocrite. I was just about to defend myself but it seems like we both have the same idea.”

“Okay but in my defense, I rarely see edits of you. I need more in my life, seriously.”

“What the hell is this conversation?” Chris laughs, gaining a small shrug from Matt who’s simply staring at the couple in front of him in disbelief.

“Can we go back to questioning the kid, please? Or you two to be specific?” Matt asks, chucking when Nick and Finn both stop their conversation to look over at him.

“My bad. Go ahead with the questions.” Finn apologizes with a small giggle.

“Alright, first question about you and Nick.” Chris begins, scrolling through his notes for a moment before continuing, “When did you two first meet? Matt and I know what went down but the fans don’t so please enlighten us.”

“Enlighten us is crazy,” Nick mumbles, his statement earning a small chuckle from his boyfriend.

“Do you wanna say it or should I?” Finn asks, adjusting his position on the booth slightly so he can face the male next to him.

“You can,” Nick replies with a small smile.

Finn gently nods his head and clears his throat before he starts explaining, “So the triplets and I were invited to this large influencer party in downtown LA. When I first met Nick, I found him staring at the bottles of liquor like he was seeing colors for the first time. I asked if he needed help and he agreed and let me help him. And before you guys say anything, I made him the least alcoholic beverages possible. Anyways Nick doesn’t know this but I could see him staring at me out of the corner of my eye the whole time I was getting his drinks.”

“YOU COULD?” Nick exclaims, his face flushing in embarrassment as he looks wide-eyed at the male next to him.

“Yeah, I could.” Finn giggles.

“Stop, that's so embarrassing, oh my God.” As Nick hides his face in his hands, collective laughter sounds from the three boys in the studio.

“Hey, I was staring at you too so it’s fine.”

“You were?”

“Absolutely, yes. The second you left the drinking area, I purposely dragged my friends closer to the area you guys were at so I could get a better look at you.”

“I didn’t see you when I was looking for you, though. You must’ve found a good spot.”

“You were looking for me?” Finn smiles widely at Nick as the male’s face heats up and takes on a soft red hue.

Nick sputters for a moment before he voices his reply, “Yeah when we were leaving.”

“Seeing how easily Finn makes Nick all flustered like this is fucking insane to me.” Matt states as he rubs a hand over his chin.

“You guys will definitely see more of this when we get Finn in vlogs and whatnot but this kid literally has Nick wrapped around his pinkie finger. It’s fucking hilarious.” Chris adds with a small laugh.

“Okay, can you two shut up please? Thanks.” Nick says, subtly flipping off the two males before he turns to face Finn again.

“They do have a point, my love. You do get flustered quite easily.” Finn says, his statement earning a hurtful expression to spread across Nick’s face. Before the male gets to retaliate, the taller grabs his face with a single hand and brings him closer to him. Nick’s face darkens a shade or two as his nose brushes against his boyfriend’s and he slowly shrinks in his seat under the male’s strong gaze.

“CLIP THAT! CLIP THAT!” Chris exclaims as he gets out of his seat and points at the two boys a few steps away from him.

“The editors are gonna get a kick out of this episode.” Matt says, his eyes staying fixed onto Nick who’s staring up at Finn with slightly wide eyes.

“Nick editors to be exact.”

“Can yall shut it please.” Nick mutters, his efforts of sounding threading failing when Finn sends him a heart melting smile.

“Finn, you’re gonna kill him.”

“I’m stopping, I'm stopping.”

_______

It’s currently Monday and Nick and Finn are huddled up in the redhead’s bedroom. A random movie they both agreed to watch is playing on the television however neither of the boys are paying any attention to it. Rather, the two are too occupied in being wrapped in each other's arms under a large blanket they stole from Chris. Comfortable silence drifts between the two, the only real sound filling the room being the movie and their synced breaths.

“The podcast episode is being released in ten minutes,” Nick mumbles, his soft voice breaking the small silence in the room.

Finn lifts his head from his spot on Nick’s chest. “Really?”

Nick hums in response. “That means you’re gonna have to let me get up so I can upload it.”

Finn chuckles softly and reluctantly removes himself from Nick’s hold to sit up and lean against the headboard. He takes a moment to stretch his sore limbs before he looks over at his boyfriend who hasn’t moved from his position. “Do you want me to get your laptop or are you gonna get up?”

Nick shifts his eyes from the television in front of him to look over at Finn. “Can you get it for me, please? I’m too comfortable.”

“Of course, give me a second.” Nick silently watches as Finn gets out from underneath the covers and slips off the mattress. The male walks a few steps to arrive at Nick's desk and disconnects any wires connected to his laptop before picking it up and returning to bed. “Here you go, my love.”

“Thank you, baby.” Nick sends Finn a warm smile as he hands him his laptop. It was only then that the redhead decided to sit up and lean against the headboard. As he sets his laptop on his lap and turns it on, Finn shuffles closer to the male and leans against his shoulder. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“What? Us coming out as a couple to the public?”

“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, I'm glad we’re doing this but I'm still a little nervous.”

“I am too, but don't worry too much. We got this.” Finn sits up a little to nestle his face in the crook of Nick’s neck. The latter can’t help but tense up at the feeling of the taller peppering the side of his neck with soft and tender kisses. Nick opens his mouth to comment on his boyfriend’s behavior but cuts himself off when the male bites down on the skin under his ear.

“Finn,” Nick whines, his eyes shut tightly as he subconsciously tits his neck to the side to give the male more access to his skin.

“Hmm?” Finn hums, his focus staying fixed on the younger’s skin in between his teeth.

“I need to upload this, you’re distracting me.”

“Am I now?”

“Yes you-“ Nick cuts himself off yet again when Finn begins to suck on the same area he was biting moments prior. A low groan slips out of Nick's mouth as he moves his laptop off his lap and grabs his boyfriend’s bicep. “Finn, please.”

The latter bites down on Nick’s tender skin once more before finally stopping and pulling away. Finn eyes the area he marked for a moment and can’t help the proud smile forming on his lips as the sight of a purpling spot under the redhead’s ear. “Might need to cover that up before we go downstairs.” Finn says as he rubs over the area with his index finger.

“You’re helping me.” Nick grumbles as he grabs his laptop and pulls it back on his lap. “I’m getting your aas back for this by the way.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Nick looks over at Finn and takes in his cocky grin. The male can’t help but scoff softly at the sight and returns to uploading the podcast episode. It only takes about five minutes for Nick to upload the video and when he’s done, he softly shuts his laptop and sets it on the nearby nightstand.

“I’d like to try now.”

_____

“Guys the fans are going fucking insane. I swear i’ve never seen so many fan pages edit a video of ours so quick-“ Matt starts as he opens the door to Nick’s room. He quickly shuts his mouth and stares wide-eyed at the two shirtless males on the bed, the only thing covering their lower halves being the blanket they were using earlier. Nick quickly slips off Finn and looks over at Matt who’s standing in the doorway, his face flush in embarrassment.

“Matt! Fucking knock!” Nick exclaims as he pulls the blanket up to his chest.

“My bad. I'm gonna go bleach my eyes now.” Matt sputters, his words mumbling together as he quickly exits the room and loudly shuts the door behind him.

“God, that kid.” As Nick lets out a heavy exhale, he looks over at Finn who’s still lying on his back.

He takes a moment to stare at the male while his eyes are still shut and allows his eyes to wander down to his slightly parted lips which are taking in heavy inhales of air, his chest rapidly rising in the process. Nick’s eyes eventually wander to the taller’s hair, which is a lot messier considering what they were doing before they got interrupted. Before he allows his gaze to wander down to his exposed chest, Nick quickly rips his gaze away when Finn opens his eyes.

“We should do this more often.” Finn breathes out as he blinks up at the male hovering over him.

“Are you sure about that? I don't think you could go for much longer considering how fucked you look right now.”

“Oh, I looked fucked right now?” As Nick hums softly in response, Finn sits up slightly and leans against his arms, the crown of his head inches away from the headboard of the bed. As the taller gazes up at his boyfriend, he can’t help but let his eyes wander down to his chest. “Wait, I just realized you don’t have a shirt on.”

“Oh,” Nick quickly looks down at his torso and peeks into the gap made from the blanket covering the majority of his upper half. “Yeah, I don't.”

As Nick looks back over at Finn, a confused expression overtakes his features at the sight of the taller’s wide smile. “Why are you smiling so hard?”

“Well it’s just that you’ve always been so huge on keeping a shirt on and not allowing anyone to see you shirtless and the fact that you are currently topless is just making me a little happy. You know, because you were comfortable enough to take your tank top off and be bare during what we just did.”

“Oh,” Nick mumbles again, a single arm raising to rub his nape. “Yeah, I do feel quite comfortable with you now. Besides, I feel like if we’re going to have

sex or make out then I can't have my shirt on.”

Finn’s eyebrows furrow at Nick’s last statement and he quickly sits upright. “Love, you know you don’t have to feel obligated to not have a top on when we do this shit right?” Silence falls over the two boys for a moment.

At the sight of Nick forcing his lips together and looking off to the side, Finn heavily sighs and leans his head against the male’s shoulder. “Sweetheart, if we’re going to have sex or shit like that, it is completely okay with me if you want to keep your clothes on. It’s not like I'm going to get upset or anything. I want you to be comfortable, okay?”

“Okay.” When Nick turns his head to look over at Finn, the latter immediately captures his lips with his for a quick kiss. When the taller pulls away, he removes himself from his boyfriend’s shoulder and begins patting the area around him. “What are you doing?” Nick asks, his eyebrows knitting together as he watches the male slip his hand under the blanket.

“I wanna see the feedback from the podcast episode. Matt said the fans are flipping their shit and I wanna see it for myself.” Finn replies, momentarily shifting his gaze to look at Nick before he pulls his phone out from under the blanket. As Nick gently nods his head with a small hum, Finn situates himself back against his shoulder and unlocks his phone. “I’m gonna check Tiktok first.”

Finn spins his thumb around a few times as his eyes scan his lock screen for the said app and when he finally finds it, he clicks it open. It didn’t take a single scroll from the male for a video of himself and Nick to pop up on his feed. Immediately, the room fills with the sound of both boys talking with Daylight by Taylor Swift playing softly in the back.

“I’m just really grateful that I met Nick at that party. At the time, I was struggling mentally, obviously, it wasn’t shown on social media and I tried my best to now show it either, but when I met him I just felt all my worries and shit wash away. He brings me such peace and happiness and seeing him nearly every single day just makes me so fucking happy. Honest to God, I don’t know what I would be doing if I never went to that bar that night.” Finn says, his eyes not breaking away from Nick’s as he looks at the male with a loving and heart-stuck gaze.

“God don’t even get me started with how amazing a boyfriend he is. I swear he knows me better than I know myself. He knows me like the back of his hand and immediately knows if something is up just by looking at me. He’s so caring and sweet and I need to figure out how to repay him because he’s just so fucking amazing.”

“Oh, cut the bullshit.” Nick states, his eyes rolling rather playfully before he shifts his eyes up back to Finn’s, “I haven’t really been in a proper relationship before so all this shit is new to me, and still kinda is in a sense, but I appreciate how Finn takes things so slow with me. Like when we first started dating yes we kissed and whatnot but it was slow like how we both agreed on. He didn’t overstep any of my boundaries and constantly asked me if what he was doing was okay with me physical touch wise and always asked if I was comfortable. I couldn’t be more thankful for how patient he was with me. I could go on a whole fucking tangent about how much I care and appreciate this kid but I think I’d need a whole other podcast episode for that.”

“Might as well give you guys another episode to gush about each other,” Chris says with a chuckle.

“Well, the next podcast episode will be a Nick and Finn exclusive guys! Be on the lookout for it.” Matt exclaims as he points at the camera in front of him.

“Okay, don’t put that out there. Doing this shit was anxiety-inducing enough. We’ll feed the people when we feed like feeding them.” Nick says, his statement earning a small head nod from Finn.

“Nick and Finn content soon guys!” Finn exclaims with a wide smile.

The TikTok continues for a little while longer with various clips of the couple being shown as Daylight plays more loudly. Nick and Finn take a moment to scroll through the latter’s for you page, the sight of the support from hundreds of fan pages bringing large smiles to their faces.

“I think this was a success, don’t you think?” Finn asks as he shuts his phone off and reaches over to set it on the nightstand.

“I completely agree,” Nick replies with a small head nod. As Finn returns to his previous spot against the headboard, Nick wordlessly moves the blanket further down his legs to lay down on his lap. “Should we do a photo dump later?”

“If you want, it’s your call.” Nick nods his head and abruptly stops when Finn begins to card his fingers through his hair. The redhead can’t help but the large smile creeping onto his lips as he subconsciously leans into his boyfriend’s hand, his actions drawing a smile from the taller who’s gazing down at him.

“Thank you for being with me.”

“Oh, Nick.” Finn bends down to land a soft kiss on Nick’s temple. “I should be thanking you, to be honest.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nick mumbles. The male takes a moment to flip onto his stomach and bury his face in Finn’s bare thigh. “Let me be sappy please.”

Finn softly laughs at the male, “Alright, alright.”

As Nick begins to land light kisses on Finn’s thigh, the latter begins to drag his fingertips up and down the younger’s bare back. The moment Nick feels the male’s fingers lightly brush against his skin, he tenses up with a choked giggle.

“Finn…” Nick warns, “Don’t fucking start I swear to God.”

“I’m not doing anything?” Finn asks, his eyebrows furrowing in pure confusion as he dips his head down to glance at the male in his lap.

“Finn, you know damn well what you’re doing.”

“Do you want me to stop? I will if you want me to.”

“No, no!” Nick quickly reaches an arm back to grab Finn’s hand when he pulls away. “I didn’t mean to sound harsh or anything, I promise. It just feels really weird.”

“Oh,” Finn mumbles with a small chuckle. “So can I continue?” When Nick nods his head and returns to his spot in Finn’s thigh, the latter continues his previous actions.

The two sat there for the remainder of the day, their energy levels boosted up to the max simply by being in each other’s presence. Both boys finally had a weight they’d had on their shoulders for a month lifted off their backs and they couldn’t be happier. They finally felt free to do whatever they wanted couple-wise and knew that the fans would eat up all the content they gave them. They were forever grateful for the fans and made sure they were plenty aware of the fact through a few ‘thank you’ posts made on their public stories.

In all, both Finn and Nick continued to stay happy with one another. They relied on each other constantly and were always there for one another. Nothing was getting in between the couple, their bond was simply unbreakable. Yes, they still had a long way to go in terms of their relationship but they were very content with where they are right now. Considering how the full story of how these two boys met and stole each other's hearts has finally ended on a happy note, most would believe that this would be the end.

But that is not the case for Nick and Finn.

Who says that there will stop being more content just because their series has ended? Their story has just started!

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· TagList ·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

@freshloveforthefit @thenickgirl @patscorner @frankdelreyy @sturnssan @kileybankzz @robins-scoop @miloisdone1 @rootbeerworshiper @rubyperic-09 @teenagetrash00 @maryx2xx

comment to be added to the taglist and click here to know more abt it!

#sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #azul talks ✮#matt x reader #nick x reader #chris x reader #nick sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo fluff #nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo imagine #nick sturniolo x male reader #nick sturniolo x you

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safety-writes-noms · 8 months

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NSFW BLOGS DNI THIS IS COMPLETELY PLATONIC AND SFW

Lazy messy doodles bc that’s all I can do for now 😭. Two new ocs THEYRE BROTHERS SO COMPLETELY PLATONIC!! Not at all shipping! Little brother’s name is Oliver/ollie and big brother’s name is Callisto. Also getting nommed for the first time without warning is really scary

Was in an angsty mood today so yeah. Like I was thinking: wouldn’t it be utterly terrifying if the person you relied upon and trusted the most in the entire world just up and (seemingly) betrayed you? Like in the moments that you don’t know what’s happening, you feel completely hopeless, and sick to your stomach. And you’re so so confused like, “why would they even do that? I thought we were best friends,” basically Oliver

And then on the other side Callisto’s panicking, because he just reacted on instinct, he didn’t mean to reveal that he’s a shape shifter, he just had the thought of ‘I need to get my baby brother somewhere safe’ and now he’s sealed away, all comfy and cozy inside his belly. His instincts are satisfied, knowing that Oliver’s secure, he’s in a good place, and he knows exactly where his baby brother is, can feel every shift and movement. The other part of his brain that has been raised and nurtured by human hand and ideals is shrieking its head off in horror.

he can barely even think straight with his instincts burning like wildfire through his mind and has to wait it out so that they’ll subside and he can feel Oliver getting progressively more tired out and anxious the longer he’s tucked away and it!s making him panic in turn and overall it’s just not good. Because it feels like when Oliver is scared or hurting, especially because of him; it’s like daggers, straight to the ribs bc he loves his baby brother more than anything else in the world. But still terrifying. Not the best introduction to noms so far.

#sfw vore #extreme cuddling #Callisto and Oliver #nonsexual vore

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sunoorintarou · 8 months

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Catharsis: Houseki no Kuni x JJK

Part: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 (parts not in chronological order)

Christmas Special (plot divergent)

Gojo Satoru (platonic) x Phosphophyllite!Reader

Warnings: ooc Gojo, complex emotions, reader goes from happy to depressed to a monster, very angsty, there's an oc named Yuzuru Yukio who takes the place of Antarcticite because I couldn't bear to kill off anyone, death and depression, suicidal thoughts, gore

Notes: I haven't posted in a while and recently watched Houseki No Kuni and fell in love with Phos, so I decided to write a lil smth. This isn't very detailed and is more of a drabble than anything. I also really wanted to highlight Gojo's weaknesses and the inability to stop change in this, so he's very ooc, but yeah, hope y'all enjoy <3

They say history repeats itself, and once again, Gojo Satoru found himself unable to protect what really mattered to him. He was not the strongest. And never would be if he could never protect those closest to him.

It was like clockwork. He remembered when he first met you. You were a girl with a cursed technique never seen before. You had the ability to turn curses into gemstones. You could also absorb them (the beginnings of those together at the end are always similar), but not only that, your body was a storage unit for them, crystallising them and making them part of you, existing as precious gems that sprouted on and under your skin.

You were a precious commodity. Even though you had only molded with a singular curse, the one that had killed your parents. You had absorbed it into you on accident, materialising as the teal in your crystalline eyes and hair.

You were then taken to Jujutsu Tech. You had nowhere else to go. And now that you had absorbed your first curse, you became a beacon for others, your very existence attracting them.

It was fate when you were assigned to Gojo's team. The higher - ups choosing him on the basis that he had "experience" with cursed techniques similar to yours.

Gojo watched you from the beginning. Your bright eyes and clumsy personality something he hadn't seen in a while. You struggled in battle, tripping over your feet and freezing up. You weren't good at healing. You weren't good at admin. Any task you were assigned, you managed to royally mess up. You couldn't even use your cursed technique. You were borderline useless, good for only cheering up the team.

It had gotten to the point where you wouldn't even go on missions, sitting in your room and wondering what you had to do to become better. Gojo never let you be alone. He had learnt better.

Things took a turn for the worse during your first encounter with a cursed spirit that had eaten one of Sukuna's fingers. It was smart, and they figured it had been following you on your daily path from the school to the convenience store nearby. Waiting for the perfect chance to attack you.

Gojo blamed himself. He had been sent on a mission. By the time he arrived, everyone was in a panic, his team having long left to look for you after realising you were missing. By then, it was already too late.

When they found you, the curse had already shattered your legs. A scene no child deserved to see. An event no child deserved to experience. You were in a puddle of blood against the wall of an alley. Your legs had clean broken off, revealing teal crystal in place of bones and muscle, tinted purple from mixing with your blood. It was like breaking open a geode. Nothing flesh lied under your skin, only crystal. It was almost beautiful.

The curse was feasting on the shards of your legs, and by the time Gojo arrived with the group, he could only watch as you finally gained the strength to activate your cursed technique. You touched the curse, watching as its flesh crystallised into agate and quartz.

You then caught sight of your team and your teacher, a broken smile on your face.

"S- Sensei- look, I did it." You tilted your head. Gojo walked toward you wordlessly, his strong hand never so gentle, finding your head as he ruffled your hair.

"You did. I'm proud of you." Gojo's hands found your waist, picking you up as you went limp over his shoulder.

When you were brought back to Shouko, there was little she could do. They brought the crystallised curse with, now just a chunk of agate and quartz. To save your legs, they had to crack it open, having to use the pieces of your legs that were now mixed in with the agate and attach them to your body, hoping your body wouldn't reject them.

You slept for a long time. 3 weeks, to be exact. And when you finally woke up, Gojo couldn't help but begin to despise himself for not being able to protect you.

Where Gojo saw regret, you saw your legs as a positive, however. They were faster and stronger than your previous legs, allowing you to use them in combat, quickly excelling. You were beyond excited when you were deemed strong enough to go on patrol, and Gojo guided you the best he could.

He assigned a 3rd year, a strict, by the books, yet equally as lonely boy named Yuzuru Yukio. And he watched you. He watched as Yukio guided you, teaching you everything he knew. And as the days passed, he felt as if you were going to be OK.

Things were looking up for you. Everyone was praising your newfound talent in an attempt to cheer you up, but what Gojo hadn't realised was that the seed of doubt had already been planted far before he could stop it.

It had started in a casual conversation with Maki while she was attempting to help you train. You had explained your situation to her, eagerly listening to her advice, but one thing stuck. "Change." You knew she hadn't meant it the way you had taken it. She simply meant that you should change your thoughts and strengthen your resolve. But the words played on your long-held insecurities, and you began to feel like you yourself were the problem.

This feeling only increased when everyone complimented how strong your new legs were. Not cracking as easily as your old ones, much faster and more agile. And you only sunk deeper when you had dropped a crate of training swords, and Panda had jokingly claimed that it would be nice if your arms were as good as your legs.

Not even Gojo could sense the darkness that grew in your heart. The nights you spent despising your reflection, wondering if it would be better if every single part of you was replaced.

These insecurities manifested when you encountered a curse on patrol with Yukio. You watched as Yukio fought the gooey green mass of eyeballs, staying back as you still weren't all that skilled. In a moment of hesitance, Yukio had been caught off guard and was flung into a building, leaving you alone with the curse.

"I can eat them for you." The curse smiled, feeding off your insecurities.

"Your arms are so weak. Wouldn't you want a better pair?" The voice was deep and comforting, almost caring, almost worried. You found yourself reaching out to the curse.

When you found clarity not even a second later, it was too late. Your arms were gone.

It was repetition. The way you were rushed to Shouko, Yukio holding your limp form against him, the curse long gone.

This time wasn't as simple. They had nothing to replace it with and, no choice but to send you out to find a curse you could crstalise and use as a prosthetic.

Maki and Toge went with you and Yukio. Gojo once again being barrelled with missions.

What should have been a simple search for a weak curse turned sour. The curse they had found had turned into gold when you touched it.

The alloy was heavy, weighing you down and liquidising, trapping you in a prison of gold. Toge and Maki were forced to retreat by Yukio, forced to contact Gojo as you were being drowned in an ocean of gold.

Yukio tried to break through the prison the gold had formed. A large gold block with a few holes for air. He swore he would get you out, and as his focus remained on you, he failed to notice the curse behind him.

His guts were ripped clean out, body hitting the floor before either of you could react.

And you couldn't do anything. The gold refused to listen to you as you tried to do something, anything, to get revenge, to see if there was anything you could possibly do to somehow change the situation. But it was all in vein.

When Gojo found you, you were covered in blood, on your knees, Yukio's limp body in your arms as you cried. There were pieces of various precious gems and minerals everywhere. He rushed to you, dropping to his knees in front of you.

"Sensei- I- I wasn't strong enough- to- to protect me- he-" In place of tears, ichor ran down your cheeks.

It was then that Gojo watched the beginning of your downfall. You spiraled, cutting your hair, the light in your eyes dying as you committed yourself to fighting curses nonstop. Gojo watched you break yourself apart, skin cracking into pieces only to be filled with gold and repaired again and again.

Nothing anyone said could stop you, not even when your team returned from their mission and were met with you, the new you. You just weren't the same. No longer as happy and joyous, becoming more awkward, quieter. You rarely slept. Sleeping only when Shouko drugged you enough to keep you asleep.

You bathed yourself in the blood of curses, an act of revenge, and strength enabling you to speak to Yukio with a clean heart. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw Yukio dying. Over and over again. It was excruciating. It suffocated you.

The life draining out of your bodies and eyes, but no matter what you did, you just wouldn't die.

Gojo stayed by your side as much as he could during those times. Avoiding missions and watching over you. The only time you were ever out of his site was when you went to the bathroom, and when you visited Yukio's grave.

No one left you alone. But perhaps that worked out for the worse. The comforting words only reminded you of your weakness.

It was like Deja Vu. When the light finally returned to your eyes, it was too late.

"Hey, Sensei." You greeted from across the road as if nothing ever happened. There was a barrier no one could cross between you. It was in the early morning, the bustle of the traffic and people almost sickening to Gojo.

"Y/n. What is this?" Gojo asked, at a loss for words. He had let you out of his site for 10 minutes, letting you sit at Yukio's grave in peace, and when he returned, you were gone. That was days ago. Yet by some miracle, he had caught sight of you in the crowd in passing.

"I want to thank you. For everything. You always said I'd find a purpose, something only I could do, and I think I found it. I'm sad things didn't work out with you guys at Jujutsu Tech, though. Tell everyone that I'm sorry, OK?" You said, thoughtfully, eyes widening as another thought came to mind.

"Ah, another thing, 'Sorry for stealing your student Satoru, I just don't think she's cut out to follow the path you're on', something like that, he said to tell you."

At those words, Gojo Satoru was 17 again, watching his best friend leave, unable to do anything about it.

"Y/n!" He screamed as you turned around, ready to rush after you, but the voices of his other students behind him stopped him.

"Bye, bye. See you in Shibuya." You smiled. One last time before you disappeared into the crowd.

History always repeated itself in the cruelest ways. And once again, it was proved to Gojo Satoru that he could never be the strongest.

#catharsis #gojo satoru x reader #jjk angst #jjk x reader #houseki no kuni #phos!reader #hnk x reader #land of the lustrous #jjk x hnk crossover #platonic gojo satoru

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mykneeshurt · 1 year

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I love your writings! Can I request the COD boys with a s/o who is covered in tattoos from the top of their neck to their ankles. Preferably where they usually where clothes that cover them fully, then for whatever reason they are wearing something like a tank top and shorts and they see their tattoos for the first time <3 thanks

I don’t see a lot of fics where the person is heavily tattooed, if any tattoos at all

My OC in Don’t fear the Reaper is heavily tattooed 😏 I’m poor so can’t afford any more tattoos at the moment, so im living vicariously through her. If you wanted Rudy and Alejandro let me know and I can add them in! Female reader!

Price

You and Price had been seeing each other secretly for a few months, ever the gentleman he kept the pace slow. Allowing yourselves to get to know each other before any hanky panky.

You usually wore a long sleeved layer with long trousers and your boots around base. Never really showing any skin, which Price didn’t mind, it was essentially a tease. Leaving your body and skin to his imagination.

That was until one night when you were in the gym, you couldn’t sleep so decided to release some endorphins instead. You were on the resistance bike, sweat dripped from your brow onto the floor. Music was blasting from your headphones, you were in your own world.

Price had just finished his paperwork which had kept him up past midnight. As he trudged to his room he walked past the gym and noticed the light on. As he peered around the door he saw you figure on the bike.

He couldn’t quite believe his eyes. There you were, sat in all your sweaty glory. You wore shorts and a sports bra revealing a multitude of tattoos all over your body. From your neck to your ankles. An array of art decorated every part of skin he could see. Black and grey, colour, black out ink, all of it. He wanted to trace his fingers all over your body to feel how the ink felt on your skin, to feel the art beneath his finger tips.

Feeling someone watching you, you spun around to see your Captain staring at you. Your gaze softened and beckoned him to come to you.

Soap 🧼

It was a rare sunny day outside so you decided to swap your usual long sleeved attire to a tank top. The jeeps needed attending to so you decided to take advantage of the hot weather.

You were elbow deep in an engine trying to find out why the engine light kept coming on, when you heard a whistle behind you. Turning round to give one of the troops a piece of your mind your eyes met Johnny stood open mouthed. ‘Yes?’ You asked somewhat confused.

‘Just never seen your tats before, steamin Jesus … they’re incredible.’ He stood and took in your neo traditional tattoos, a mixture of Japanese and Art deco ink littered over your skin. ‘They’re just tattoos Johnny. Christ’ you laughed.

‘Yeah but I ain’t ever seen you this … uncovered. Fuckin incredible.’ You felt a blush creep up on your skin as you rubbed your arms.

Johnny came over and started to map out each of your tattoos, telling you which ones were his favourites. You pointed out which one was your first and which one was your most recent. Which one had a story, which one didn’t, he took in every word as he stroked your skin.

Ghost 💀

You were in the changing rooms after a sparring session and you were getting ready to get in the shower. As you pulled your top of you suddenly felt a set of eyes bore into you. Looking up you saw Ghost, his eyes raked up and down your body. ‘Fuckin hell love, didn’t realise you had tatts.’

You smirked showing off your body, ‘what these?’ You winked at him. Your body was covered in a mixture of realistic and black work geometric tattoos. Looking at his half forearm sleeve you smirked ‘puts yours to shame don’t it.’ He let out a breathy chuckle ‘cheeky minx.’

You spun around so he could have a look at the tattoos on your back, realistic skulls, flowers, portraits all adorned you. He pulled you in close, ‘I suggest you get in the shower, get cleaned up and come to my room. I wanna take a closer look at some of these’ he winked.

Gaz 🇬🇧

You were sat in the canteen with Gaz one morning when a load of new recruits came barging in. As they pushed their way past your table one spilt their drink all over you. ‘Fuck sake!’ You yelled throwing your hands in the air. Gaz grabbed some napkins for you as you removed your top, luckily it hadn’t gone through to your vest.

As Gaz turned to give you the napkins he was met with your tattooed body. He felt his breath hitch in his throat, he didn’t think he could fancy you anymore than he did. ‘Where you been hiding them?!’ He gestured to your body ‘we’ve been seeing each other a month and you kept these beauties to yourself!’

Giggling you took the napkins from him ‘you never asked!’ You were covered in traditional old school tattoos, a death moth covered your chest which was surrounded by roses and hearts. He couldn’t take his eyes off his new found treasure in front of him.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mw22 #ghost x you #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish #modern warefare 2 #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz garrick #captain john price x reader #price x you #captain price #tattoos #tattooed reader #request

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gasolinerainbowpuddles · 9 months

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Between the Shadow and the Soul║ ⒸⓄⓁⓁⒺⒸⓉⒾⓄⓃⓈ

| Between the Shadow and the Soul | part of the A Savage Place collection ║ series masterlist ║ main masterlist ║

| PAIRING(s): sub!Joel Miller x dom!fem!OC | RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT: 6.4k | CONTENT: exploration of power dynamics, submissive and domination practices, dirty talk, rewards and punishments, pegging (YAY!), some degradation type kink stuff idk, one moment of mommy kink I guess, Joel loves to throw himself a pity party & dom!fem!OC has no interest in letting that fester

| SYNOPSIS: Pegging, but make it therapeutic. And maybe a little romantic?

“It’s right back here,” Chris calls over his shoulder to you. He waves his arm in a wide arc without glancing back, motioning you to the storage area of his shop.

You follow with barely contained excitement at what awaits.

“Here’s the loot,” he chortles. He reveals the items in question with an abrupt yank on a heavy blanket shrouding it. He gestures broadly at several dingy looking boxes that were hidden beneath.

You peer into the closest one that’s open and can’t help but gasp at the glorious sight before you: a variety of sex toys and intimacy products still in their original packaging. No sun bleaching. No molding. No wear and tear. Almost perfect condition.

“How?!” you practically shriek. “In the back stockroom of some toy shop. Shopping center next to a mall,” Chris readily explains with a shared enthusiasm. “Must’ve been in the middle of unpacking a new shipment or something because most of it was in the box still, like you see it here.”

“But they’re in such good condition!” you marvel.

“Yeah, the stuff closer to the front that wasn’t picked over already was damaged by sunlight or whatever else, but this treasure trove right here was tucked away near the back. Still got some sun and air, but not enough to damage them. I told Alex I officially believe in miracles now,” he snorts.

“Yeah, no kidding!” you laugh with effusive mirth. “I can’t believe this. Seriously. You know how long I’ve been looking for this kind of stuff?!”

“Probably about as long as I have,” he titters gleefully.

“Hey, you have the real thing at home, and I know Alex is hung like a horse based on how he carries himself,” you point out with feigned indignation.

“Yeah yeah, but it’s still fun to have toys!” he retorts with a wistful edge to his voice.

You couldn’t argue with him on that account. You thank the heavens above that Chris and Alex have a soft spot for you after you helped them link up. Alex routinely oversaw more of the specialized patrol missions, and you’d known it in your bones the moment you met Chris that the two of them would hit it off. When you and Alex set out on a 3 day scouting trip all those moons ago, you’d convinced him by the end of it to strike up a conversation with Chris just to “see where things went.” Of course they didn’t even make it through their first outing to get drinks together before they were infatuated with one another.

“And the real thing I have at home was just about as excited as you and me are,” he adds. “Has his eye on a few things, but don’t worry, though. I already old him it was only right that you get first pick.”

You waste no time rummaging through the goods. You snatch up several items you know will serve you well. When your hand hesitates over the packaging of a strap-on harness, Chris lifts a curious brow. You grin and roll your eyes at his silent probing.

“Dare I ask who the special lady is?” he questions in a sing-song voice.

When you purse your lips into a poorly contained smirk, his eyebrows lift into his hairline. “Oh, a special man?”

He eyes the strap harness before looking back at you with a wicked grin. “Okay, I’m not gonna ask about it today, but you WILL be spilling all the details at some point.”

You giggle and agree you’ll eventually share some of the particulars about your “mystery man.” After going through each and every box, you set out with a hefty bag of goods, satisfied with your haul and all the possibilities it facilitated. You could hardly wait to get into all of it and surprise Joel with a few things. You thankfully didn’t have to wait long for an opportunity as it was only a few days later that he was able to meet up at your house.

It had been almost two weeks since you’d been able to spend time together outside of patrols. His mood had shifted into something closer to his previously staunch antagonism, and you weren’t sure if he was dealing with something privately or if he was just sulking over your stringent expectations of his behavior when you were apart. If it was the latter, not being allowed to get yourself off for a little while certainly didn’t warrant such a surly disposition.

Something felt off, though. It wasn’t just the bitter, grouchy temperament that you’d come to know and dismantle over the months you’d been seeing each other. No, there was something else bubbling under the surface. Something more than sexual frustration, although you’re sure that didn’t help.

His sullen knock at the door was the first reminder of the semi-detached doldrum he’d taken to lately. You beckoned him inside and gave several languid kisses along the column of his neck the moment the door closed. Instead of meeting your physical advances, his hands gently wrapped around the span of your back and cupped you closer to him. When he released a ragged sigh, you knew it was going to be one of those times where he needed a little extra tenderness.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Joel drawls in a lazy hum.

“Hey, baby. What’s going on?” You push a few of the graying, curly strands from his forehead, taking the occasion to search his face for any indication of what had him so squarely in the clutches of unrest.

“Just havin’ a time right now with Ellie, is all,” he mumbles after a moment. His eyes focus on your shoulder and collarbones - anywhere but meeting your gaze - but there was a faraway look in them.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask carefully. The topic of Ellie always had the potential to be a sensitive one for Joel, and you had your suspicions for the past couple of weeks that there was some sort of unresolved issue between the two of them.

Joel shook his head gently. “Nah. Not ready.”

You nod and immediately back off the topic. Joel needed a safe place to run to, and you didn’t want to be another thing he was running from.

“Let’s get you cleaned up so I can take care of you today, okay? How does that sound?” you offer in a sultry, low voice.

“Sounds perfect, honey,” he agrees, his shoulders slumping at the pacifying reassurance you always provided.

You help him out of his jacket and boots before guiding him to the bathroom. You turn the shower on and strip him down while it warms up. The growing heat of the water begins to plume into a fog of cloudy steam inside the bathroom.

“Go on and sit,” you shoo him into the shower. You strip yourself and join him. Even with his large frame and broad shoulders, Joel looks so small in this moment, sitting wide legged on the built in shower bench with his head leaning against the wall behind him. You can see just how tired he looks when you’re eye to eye like this.

He appraises your naked body with a wanton, gluttonous fixation. His cock twitches in response to the gains yielded by his unabashed ogling. His hand edges towards where he’s already half-hard, but he doesn’t touch himself yet. Not without your permission.

You take your time angling the showerhead so the outpour of water cascades over his crown and downward between the stretch of sore muscles of his shoulder blades and back. His eyes close with a satisfied groan at the feeling of the heat over his tired, aching body.

You divert some of the water with your hands to douse his upper body. You grab the shampoo off to the side and spurt a small puddle of the rosemary and lavender scented liquid into the cup of your palm.

“You been a good boy?” you gently ease into some teasing. You rub the shampoo between your hands.

“Haven’t got off in over a fuckin’ week, if that’s what you’re askin’,” he snips impatiently.

You balk at his impolite tone. “Well don’t ruin all that now with such a bad attitude,” you chide.

He sighs and drops his shoulders. “Sorry,” he mutters, looking away and grasping his hands together in his lap before looking back up at you with a chastised, contrite expression. He extends a tentative reach and curves his hands around your waist in a meek bid for forgiveness.

“I’ll accept your apology, but don’t test my patience,” you warn.

You lather up the shampoo in his hair and work it over in kneading circles. His brows knit together. His eyes peacefully drift shut. You scratch at the base of his scalp, just where he likes. He lets out a low groan of relief.

“I know you’ve been having a hard time lately, Joel. That’s what I’m here for. I’m here to take care of you, give you what you need. So are you going to be a nice boy for mommy today and let me give you what you need?”

His eyes remain closed as you rinse the suds from his hair.

“Yes, ma’am,” he promises.

“That’s what I like to hear, sweet boy.”

You work up a soapy foam and wash him top to bottom. His cock is soft again by the time you make it down his legs, but there’ll be time for that later. Right now you need to get Joel into a clearer headspace, one with a less turbulent response pattern. You take extra care to wash his feet, knowing he doesn’t ever take the time to really look after them as well as he should. He moans at the kneading motions you rub along the arch of his feet.

“God that feel so fuckin’ good,” he murmurs.

You spend a few extra minutes massaging his knees, never able to forget the day that raider had knocked him down and added even more strain to his already bad joints. When you finally finish working over his muscles and washing him up, you direct the water back and forth to rinse any remaining residue.

Once the final specs of soap have been cleared away with the rush of hot water, you massage his temples and jaw where he endlessly overtaxed the muscles with incessant clenching and grinding - a longstanding bad habit that had made a return as of late.

He sighs and leans into your palliative hold, letting the hot water wash over his back. His arms circle your middle and hug you closer to him. Sometimes it was sloppy messes, wet kisses, and blood surging between thighs from the moment he came through your door. Other times, like today, it was something more intimate, a give and take.

He’d nestle himself right into the crag of reprieve and sanctuary you’d cleft into for him. You let him stay there for as long as he wanted, whenever he wanted. It felt good to be needed. It felt gratifying and substantial to guide something broken through the thick of it all and into someplace less fraught with the realities of life. You, too, could escape there right alongside him, swept up in the creation and execution of taking someone into yourself to safeguard and mold into a dulcified, amenable thing.

You cut the water off and wrap a soft towel around Joel’s shoulders. You help him towel dry his hair and upper body before exiting the shower and hug a towel over yourself. Joel drapes another clean towel around his waist and heads for the bedroom. You smile to yourself at the familiar routine that’s already been established between the two of you. As expected, he’s lying over the towels, spread across your bed, as he waits for you to join him.

You grab a clean, oversized t-shirt and pull it on to stave off the chill in the air. You grab the container of lotion from your dresser and head for the bed. Joel watches you with a soft fondness as you climb onto it and straddle him. You take a dab of lotion and rub it into his cheeks and nose.

“Still don’t see why I gotta get this stuff every time I shower over here,” he objects gruffly.

“Because you don’t ever lotion, Joel. Seriously, the only time you ever take care of your skin is when somebody else is forcing you to,” you huff in a laugh. “You’re sexy and all that, but nobody can pull off lizard skin. Not even you.”

He belly laughs at that and runs his palms over your bare thighs as you sit atop him. It’s nice to hear him laugh. You feel proud that you’ve already gotten him this relaxed.

“Besides, I know it feels good to finally get some moisture on this goddamn sandpaper you call skin. It just about drinks up every drop of lotion I’ve got every time I do this,” you point out.

“Mmmm, yeah. Does feel nice,” he admits with a sheepish, lazy grin.

You smile back at him and shake your head. “Silly boy. Already told you that’s what I’m here to do. To make you feel good if you’ve behaved yourself.”

“And, uh… today, do I…” he trails off.

You realize he thinks showering and some light pampering is all he’s getting rewarded with today.

“I mean, I just… you know, after a whole week - OVER a week, actually - of not havin’ any ‘stress relief’, especially when I really coulda used some,” he emphasizes.

“You’re the one that canceled last week,” you remind him pointedly.

“I know, I know. Didn’t want to. Somethin’ with Ellie came up, and … anyway, I didn’t cancel because I wanted to. God knows I’ve been goin’ outta my fuckin’ mind tryna follow your fuckin’ rules,” he gripes.

“Joel Miller, are you pouting because you couldn’t jerk yourself off for a few days?” you taunt.

Joel huffs loudly but doesn’t respond further.

“I asked you a question,” you caution.

He breathes out a weighted puff of air and nervously readjusts his body. “Look, it’s not- I’m not pouting. I just.. I missed bein’ with you, I guess. Needed you, like this,” he admits quietly.

You heave a half-exasperated sigh. It was hard to stay annoyed with him when he got like this. He sometimes put forth a weak effort to regain some of the control in your dynamic, but you could understood how hard it was for someone like Joel to give up control in the first place. If it wasn’t working for him anymore, you might’ve relented, but deep down you both knew he needed the reinforcement and structure you gave him. What you had worked for both of you, even if Joel sometimes tried to self-sabotage.

“I missed you, too, baby,” you yield. You rub lotion into the rest of his body and watch the rise and fall of his chest start to slow. After a few moments of comfortable silence, Joel shifts again under your touch.

“I guess I just–I dunno. I didn’t know what to expect comin’ over today. Never canceled on you before. Didn’t know if it was gonna be some punishment or somethin’ for it. Didn’t know if I’d done good enough to get rewarded,” he explains stiffly, nervously.

“You know if you follow my rules and obey me, you get rewarded. Why would that change?” you contend.

“I dunno,” he blows out in an exaggerated exhale, staring up at the ceiling. “I guess I just feel like I don’t know much of anythin’ anymore.”

Before Joel could slump any further into his own pity party, you decide to give him the swift kick to the ass you had to dole out every now and then to get him back on track. You lift away from straddling him and place both knees on one side next to his hip. You lean forward, one arm firmly planted beside his head.

“Well then let’s clear it up, Joel,” you hiss. His eyes light up excitedly at your change in tone.

“This–” you grit out, roughly grabbing his soft dick “–belongs to me.”

You slowly stroke him a few times, enjoying the way blood starts rushing to his cock and hardening under your touch. All too avid and supplicant at your directive.

“And you don’t need to worry your pretty little head about what happens to it because that’s for me to decide. Are we clear?” you press.

He lets out a choked moan and nods.

“SAY IT.”

“It’s all yours, sweetheart,” he grinds out with effort.

“What’s mine, Joel?” you push.

“My dick. It’s yours. All yours,” he grits out when your strokes get firmer and faster. Beads of precome start to trickle freely from his swollen tip.

“Mmmmm, that’s right. Glad we could clear that up,” you chuckle humorlessly. Your hand drops lower beneath his balls, garnering a hitched breath and exhilarated stare from Joel.

“And this little hole is mine, too,” you murmur. You swirl the pad of your middle finger over his asshole and smile when you feel it pucker inward.

Joel swallows harshly and nods in agreement. “S’yours, baby.”

You hum with delight and agreement. “Good boy.”

Joel’s cock jumps at the simple plaudit, and you’re relieved that he’s finally veering away from feeling sorry for himself. “I just love when you obey me, Joel. It means I get to take such good care of you. Give you just what you need.”

You slide off the bed and saunter lazily to your closet where all your new goodies are tucked away. You bring out the opaque plastic container you’d housed them all in after sterilizing and cleaning everything.

“What’s all that?” Joel asks, almost breathless with anticipation.

“Just a few things I picked up,” you respond coyly. “Couldn’t pass them up once I realized I could find new ways to use you.”

Joel emits a needy groan at the possessive and maddeningly vague language around what was going to happen to him at your hand today.

“I’m going to sort through a few things here, and when I turn back around you’d better be on your belly with some pillows beneath you. I want your ass UP and waiting for me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Joel agrees in a rush. You smile to yourself when you hear his hurried repositioning. You take your time pushing things around the container, tacking a few moments onto the process just to draw out the intoxicating thrill of anticipation.

When you turn and see him splayed out for you just as you commanded, you have to stop yourself from reaching between your legs.

“You’re such a good listener when you’re weak, honey,” you needle. “Haven’t gotten off in over a week, right? So fucking pussy drunk you’ll do whatever I say, just so you can come, huh? Pretty fucking pathetic.”

“Fuck,” Joel hisses under his breath. His cock is rock hard and pressing straight down between his thighs against the pillow. He grinds it pitifully against the pillows propping him up, searching for any sort of relief.

“I’m goin’ outta my fuckin’ mind,” he grates through his teeth. He really does sound pained.

“If you don’t stop complaining, I will find something to shut you up,” you warn him flatly.

“Just fuckin’ need you, baby, please,” he grumbles with a touch more humility.

“Where do you need me, Joel?” you tease.

“Anywhere,” he groans desperately.

You crouch down behind him and run an admiring pass of your hands over his backside. You spread them apart and shoot a hot ball of spit onto the opening in between. Joel jumps and moans at the sensation, and you give him no time to process it further before sliding the flat of your tongue against the glistening wet you spit onto him.

He bucks his hips into the pillows beneath him and lets out a loud, strained moan. He already sounds completely wrecked. You lap gently, delving your tongue inside of his opening every few passes, and settle into a slow rhythm until he relaxes beneath you. You only break away to grab at Joel’s mouth and command for him to spit into your hand. He gives you everything he can gather and makes a mess of your palm. You work the slippery wet over your fingers until they’re coated.

You gently cup and massage his balls while you advance your index finger inch by delicate inch into his taut ring of muscle. You laugh quietly under your breath as you watch your digit get practically swallowed into him without any effort from you.

“Such a needy little hole,” you mock. “Didn’t realize it craved my attention this bad.”

Joel groans and shifts his hips higher for easier access.

“Talk to me, baby. I wanna know how it feels.”

“Mmm, s’g-good. Like it. You make me feel–hnn–so good,” he answers in a stilted gasp.

When you pull out just enough for your fingertip to be all that’s still inside him, Joel’s hips cant backwards towards you, chasing the fill of you. He mumbles something quietly that you don’t catch.

“Speak up,” you reprimand, laying a harsh swat to the flesh of his backside. He jerks forward and moans before repeating himself.

“Fuck – just, maybe could you … just – more?” he asks in a hushed tone.

You exhale a laugh through your nose and spit on your index and middle fingers before gliding them inside. Joel tenses slightly at the added girth, and you rub encouraging circles against the back of his thigh with your free hand.

“You look so good opening up for me like this, baby,” you coo. “I wish you could see yourself spreading around my fingers. So fucking tight, but you’re taking them so well.”

“How can I–” he grunts, cutting himself off as he tries to relax into the intrusion.

“Just breathe through it and know it makes me happy when you take my fingers like this. So proud of you when you open up for me like this.”

It takes a few minutes, but eventually Joel is taking the gentle push and pull of two fingers without any resistance. He’d only ever taken one before today, and you needed to get him more worked up if you wanted to do what you had in mind.

“God that feels fuckin’ weird but so damn good at the same time,” he huffs.

You can’t help but smile at the hint of confusion in his voice, the mystery of the pleasure his own body holds. The pillow beneath him is smeared with dribbles of precome, and you need to back off for a moment before he comes everywhere. He makes a noise of dissent when you slide your fingers all the way out.

“As much as I love that needy little hole of yours, mine comes first,” you remind him. You wipe your hands and between his thighs with one of the towels from the shower and make your way over to the box of goodies. Joel turns on his side to watch what you have planned for him. You take out the mid sized dildo to gauge his reaction, which turns out to be an almost comical look of panic.

“Don’t get too excited, baby boy. You haven’t earned this one yet,” you tut.

You pull out a bottle of lube that was revived once a little water was added to it and squirt a small amount onto the tip. It wasn’t as big as Joel - and therefore wouldn’t be as satisfying - but it would do for now in taking care of the throbbing feeling between your legs as well as getting Joel even more worked up and accepting of anything you gave him.

You pull your shirt up and over your head, tossing it carelessly on the floor, as you head over to the bed once more. You kick the pillows to the side and lay on your back beside Joel. He eagerly scoots closer to you and runs his hands up and down the expanse of your body.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful. So fuckin' perfect,” he breathes.

You’ll never get over the earnest admiration in his voice when he compliments you during these quiet, shared moments. The gratitude and reverence in the lilt of his extolling makes your chest feel warm and light.

“Can I help you feel good, too?” he pleads with big eyes.

“Only because you’ve been so good for me.”

He breathes a smile and watches as you slowly insert the toy into your aching core. You sigh at the small but welcomed stretch, working it in and out with a steady rhythm. Joel’s mouth is on your hardened nipples, your neck, your earlobes, your ribcage, your clit. Anywhere and everywhere he can worship you with his mouth. It isn’t long before you’re clenching repeatedly onto the toy. Joel releases the suction of his mouth against your clit to watch the spasm of your muscles.

“God, I could watch that all fuckin’ day,” he muses, staring intently at your pussy as your orgasm starts to ebb away.

You pull the toy out and let him admire the glistening mixture of lube and your slick. You sit up slowly, with Joel mimicking the movement, and offer it to him. “Clean it.”

He quirks an eyebrow and reaches for it, presumably to take it to the bathroom to rinse it off. You grin at his misunderstanding. “With your mouth.”

Joel’s eyes narrow at you for a moment. “You really want me gaggin’ on that stupid thing and pukin’ all over your bed?” he scoffs.

“Never said that, but if that’s what I wanted then that’s exactly what you’d be doing,” you snip sternly.

Joel’s brow pinches together in a fluid movement before returning to something more neutral. He remains silent, but you notice the way his breath has picked up with the lift and sink of his chest. It was no secret to you that Joel got off on the idea of you commanding every idea, movement, and action of his, yet somehow he still managed to be surprised sometimes by his eagerness to be dominated and subjugated by someone he trusted and knew would never actively seek to harm him.

“On your knees,” you bite. He groans but positions himself as you instructed. You stand on the bed in front of him and hold the toy between your legs, right at his eye level. “Open your mouth and lick this cock clean.”

Joel considers the toy for a moment, a flush of heat gracing his cheeks, before looking back up at you.

“Tongue out, baby boy. Don’t get shy on me now,” you taunt.

He closes his eyes and sticks a sliver of tongue out. He starts grazing a small area near the base but doesn’t seem all that enthusiastic about it.

“You keep your eyes open and on me when you’re licking my cock clean,” you snap with a forceful grab to his hair.

Joel growls at the sudden pull on his scalp but keeps his eyes opened and trained on you.

“Stick it out, wide and flat,” you instruct. Joel complies, jutting his tongue all the way out and wide open for you. “Good boy.” You thrust the toy slowly against the flat of his tongue with a rolling motion of your hips as you use his mouth to clean it. You grow impatient with the task before it’s even halfway cleaned.

“That’s good enough. I’m ready to take that little hole of yours again,” you drawl.

You ignore Joel’s excited breathing as you exchange the toy for the smaller, curved one you made sure wouldn’t be too small to fit the strap harness. It wasn’t what you wanted to see shoving in and out of Joel’s asshole, but you had to start somewhere.

“On your belly, just like before,” you call over your shoulder.

You hear the rustling of Joel positioning himself, eager to please and eager to see what you’re gifting him with next. In the months you’d been exploring this dynamic together, you’d found that Joel liked a constant barrage of unknowns you’d throw at him, only to safely guide him to the other side of it where he’d be trying to catch his breath after being catapulted into yet another overwhelming, blissful climax. There was a thrill to it now for him, one that he hadn’t embraced at first. You can only hope he doesn’t fight you too hard on this one.

You quickly fasten the harness around your waist and legs and attach the small, curved dildo to it. You grab the bottle of lube to take with you back to bed. You spread Joel apart and dribble a cold stream of it onto him, letting it slither down to his hole that’s begging to be filled with you. Your index and middle fingers slide in without resistance. He was so worked up from everything that he was just about ready to take what you had for him.

“Roll over.”

Joel obeys, and you watch with stifled delight as he takes in your get up. His eyes snap up to yours with uncertainty.

“Knees up.”

Joel slowly draws his heels onto the edge of the bed and removes one of the pillows underneath his hips. When you stroke some lube up and down the small toy, something seems to snap in him. He huffs a sigh and drops an arm over his face.

“Joel, you need to use your words if this is something you don’t want,” you assert slowly and firmly. “You know how this works by now. You can’t expect me to know every little thought you have. If you want this to stop, it stops, but you have to tell me.”

“I know that. It’s not that. I trust you, I do–” he sighs, lifting his arm from his face and resting it above his head, “–I’ve just never done this shit before, alright? I’m tryna enjoy it, but that’s kinda hard to do when I’m wonderin’ if I’m gonna be shittin’ weird for the next week or somethin’.”

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes. You wanted to tell him you’ve taken much bigger without any life-altering results, but you know it would only get the conversation incredibly off course.

“Have I ever hurt you, Joel?” you level at him.

He lets out a deep breath after a moment. “No.”

“Do you think I’d take advantage of this thing we’ve got?”

He shakes his head thoughtfully. “No.”

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you’re not referring to me correctly because I know you’re distracted, okay? But you need to trust me if this is going to work. So, you need to decide if you trust me to make you feel good and to take care of you how you need.”

Joel locks eyes with you and nods. “Okay. I trust you.”

“Good. Now put your fucking knees up and say thank you.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you,” Joel obliges.

You grab the base of the toy and guide the tip of it right to his rim. You slowly push inside, studying Joel’s face for any sign of pain.

“You’re opening up so good for me,” you praise as your gaze settles onto the toy already halfway inside.

“PLEASE CAN I FUCKIN’ TOUCH MY DICK,” Joel chokes out in a gasp.

“Go ahead, baby,” you answer calmly.

Joel grabs his rigid length and strokes himself vigorously. His eyes roll to the back of his head when you push the toy inside him all the way to the hilt. When you draw back out, a broken moan catches in his throat. You watch the pace of his hand up and down his length and mimic the same rhythm. It’s not long before he realizes you’re matching his movements, and his brow tightens and releases with the realization and acceptance of this novel pleasure.

“There you go. Just how you like it,” you coax softly. You smile as his eagerness intensifies. You love to watch him catch onto things, make these small discoveries about himself. This is a bigger leap than you’ve taken before - and maybe he still needs to be in control somewhat - but that spark of hunger you’ve ignited in him will only grow. You know one day soon he’ll be begging for you to fill him up with the biggest toy you’ve got while he’s on all fours.

You lean down for a moment to give him a slow, gentle kiss. You pull back slightly, rubbing your nose against his for a moment.

“Joel, what happens here - between us - it’s safe. So you can say what you’re dying to say. I see it all over your face how much you want to.”

You pull up and resume the steady thrusting motion from before. Joel’s hands grip the sheets in hard fists by his sides.

“You can say it, Joel. Tell me how much you love getting your tight, needy hole fucked by my cock,” you urge.

“Hrrmmpphh-fuck!–yesss–hnnffff,” he pants. Sweat is gathering in glimmering beads along his hairline and forehead.

“You’ve got such a greedy little hole for me to fuck, don’t you?”

“Gahh–AGH—YES,” he croaks. He’s starting to writhe underneath you. You wrap your hands over his hip bones and thrust harder.

“You know I wanna hear you say it, baby.”

“I–GOD, fuck yes–please,” Joel pants. “I fuckin’ have a — god dammit, such a - have such a greedy little hole I want you to fuck.”

“Yeah, you do, huh?” you chuckle. “I love watching how well you take it. You take my cock so well, Joel. You were just made for me to use.”

“Feels so fuckin’ good, honey,” he moans as you pick up the pace.

The muscles in his stomach begin to tense up, and you watch as it dawns on Joel that he’s coming. His mouth stretches open to a silent scream as his hands fly over top of yours, squeezing and grabbing for something to keep hold of him.

“Oh, fuck yeah. There we go,” you laud as you watch heavy beads of semi-clear white spend dribble from his angry, red tip.

You fuck him through it, tilting his hips up when they drop so you can keep nudging against his prostate. When you pull out of him, he’s still coming down from what you can only assume is his first prostate orgasm. Just in case he could ever forget how good you make him feel, you want to add on one final novelty.

“Hands and knees,” you instruct coolly.

“I-I can’t,” Joel exhales heavily.

“Hands and knees or it’s two weeks without coming.”

As expected, Joel complies to avoid the punishment. You squirt more lube onto the toy and settle on your back beneath him, once again moving the pillows out of the way with a quick kick. Before you can give him his next instruction, Joel’s mouth is on yours with a heavy, impassioned kiss.

He groans into your mouth, sucking and licking into it as if the oxygen from your lungs is all the air that he has in order to breathe. The intensity and undeniable intimacy of it catches you off guard, and you quickly fall into the movements of his tongue against yours.

Joel pulls away, breathing fast and heavy, with a look of complete deference. “Tell me what you want me to do, baby. Anything. Anything for you. Just tell me, and I’ll do it.”

“Sit on my cock,” you pant, out of breath from the kiss.

Joel clumsily lines himself up with the toy and sinks onto it with a heavy groan.

“Fuck yourself with my cock, and you can come all over these pretty tits,” you goad.

Joel starts jerking himself and grabbing at your breasts. You caress and stroke his balls. He awkwardly rolls his hips until he finds something that works for him, settling on a slow, deep grind. His face quickly contorts to one of imminent release.

“Such a good fucking boy for me today, Joel. So good for me. You wanna come all over my tits, baby? Make me all messy with your come? Give me something to taste?” you ask in a sickly sweet voice.

“FUCK, yeah–yes, baby, fuck yeah I do, so fuckin’ bad,” he rasps.

You take a free hand to pinch one of his nipples, and he jerks forward with a moan. You watch the small space where he lifts himself from the toy as he grinds against it.

“Keep going. Taking my cock so good. You look so perfect spreading open for me like that,” you spur him on.

You keep a steady, massaging motion on his balls as you open your mouth wide for him. You make a playful, teasing moaning noise beneath him, wordlessly begging for him to come all over you.

Joel’s hips stutter with a hitched whimper as hot white ropes start to erupt all over your chest and face. He falters forward, catching himself with his free hand against the mattress at the last moment.

“FUCK! Got my fuckin’–christ almi–FUCK,” he groans as the last bit of his spend lands with a soft splat onto your belly.

He lifts himself off the toy and slumps into a heap halfway over your body. He doesn’t seem to notice or care about the feeling of his come spreading against his skin where his weight bears into you. He slowly catches his breath and opens his eyes to meet yours. You wait, watching him with a satisfied smile. His face is relaxed and open. The grooves and lines of stress and upset are no longer as prominent as they’d been when he first arrived.

He drags a thumb through a half-crusted glob of his spend drying against your cheek and brings it to your lips. You open your mouth and suck on it. He scrapes and feeds you the rest of his release from your neck and face. You smile contentedly at the look of sleepy wonder he has for you.

“Don’t know what I did before you,” he muses in a soft hush.

You lean in with a gentle kiss, letting him taste himself on your tongue for a moment, and pull back. “You know we have to get a shower again, right?”

He shuts his eyes and grumbles. “You’re gonna make me use lotion again, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” you laugh as you pull him into a tight embrace.

This is not the last of Joel getting pegged, so please don't fret. Just wanted to explore the *~first time~* for him. Please trust I have every intention of this man getting his cheeks clapped hahaha.

Title is from Pablo Neruda:

I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz, or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: I love you as one loves certain obscure things, secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

catch ya later, ♥Puddles♥

tagging if you requested pegging or if I feel that you are spiritually aligned with Joel Miller getting pegged:

@beelzebeth87 @lvl-2005 @wannab-urs @for-a-longlongtime @toxicanonymity @walkintotheriveranddisappear @munchieforpedropascal @danaispunk @cinnamonpolvera @jupiter-soups @roguedjarin @rav3n-pascal22 @someotherasshole @forestfaeriequeen @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @atticrissfinch

#fic: a savage place #sub!joel #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #tlou fic

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pparadiselost · 4 months

Text

the death of a wallflower.

university professor hinata shoyo x university student fem reader your crush on the hot new professor gets out of hand. warning(s): nsfw, unhealthy relationship dynamic (teacher x student), named best friend oc, reader has an unnamed ex, pov change for one of the scenes, non-virgin reader, use of american university setting minors do not interact.

XX UNIVERSITY

XX SEMESTER

WEEK 2

“no, like, our new professor is seriously so hot. like, forget-your-shitty-ex kinda hot. ugh, just wait till you’re in class! you have to believe me!”

minnie’s words echo like the foreshadowing of some porno as you gather yourself outside of the classroom. leave it to your roommate and self-proclaimed best friend to describe the newest professor at your university as “hot,” when most of the faculty are pushing 70 and have the self-awareness of a brick. you honestly have no reason to be this nervous before lecture, but while it might be the start of a boring week two of the semester for your scholarly peers, it’s your first day.

it’s also just your luck to end up with the world’s most horrendous stomach bug right before the semester started. after a few heated email exchanges and a lot of heavy-lifting from minnie, your advisor and dean begrudgingly excused you from classes until you were feeling better.

and now here you are. you took the liberty of showing up to class just a few minutes early to try and talk to your professor to see what exactly you missed, and maybe find a seat. you assumed at this point everyone had their unofficial “official” seats, and you were praying that you could score one somewhere close to minnie.

whatever.

you shake your head like a dog to clear whatever doubts tumbling around in your skull. you’ve dealt with your share of mean professors before, and between forcing yourself to go to class and puking on the floor and dealing with whatever screaming gripe they’ll give you now, you had sagely decided the latter was the better option.

you brace yourself, and you tiptoe into the classroom.

the door squeaks open, and you shuffle inside, almost scared to see what’s on the other side of the door. the classroom is empty, unsurprisingly, and the fairly sized classroom zooms in on a central point: at the professor’s desk. a bag is slumped next to it, and some papers are placed into somewhat neat piles on the desk. a projector illuminates the blackboard behind with its default display.

“ah, welcome in! you’re early!”

you nearly jump out of your own skin at the energetic voice that greets you. standing a few paces from the desk is a young man, dressed crisply in a white button down and formal pants. your eyes crawl up his physique, trailing over the undone button at his throat and the sleeves tastefully rolled up to reveal his toned arms. they’re all classically handsome features, but nothing to write home about—nothing a quick swipe on tinder won’t satiate.

you step a bit closer. “uh- good morning… i’m a student in your class. i think i emailed you about this a while back, but i was the one that got really sick last week and couldn’t come in.”

you braced yourself for the tirade that you were so used to, the mountain of homework and make up lectures that were bound to be awaiting you. god, you weren’t some kind of study freak, but no one ever likes starting the semester on the wrong foot, especially when that wrong foot means making up a week’s worth of classes all across the board.

except the tirade never really comes. the man laughs, “so that’s who you are! gotcha, gotcha. well, i can say for sure that it’s much better to see you in person rather than the little yearbook picture i have on my class roster. um… minerva, was it? she said she’d fill you in on the notes that you’ve missed.”

you perk up. “yeah, minnie’s my roommate. and she’s helped me catch up the best she can.”

“awesome! it’s good to hear students helping each other. i mean, that’s what having classmates and roommates is all about anyway,” he continues. you can’t help but notice the charm in his voice, the light rhythm that makes it feel like he’s dancing with his words rather than rambling. “reminds me of my own roommate. tall guy. super awkward. only cared about volleyball. he had this god awful middle part that chased away any girl that remotely found him attractive.”

you fight back a small giggle. he was funny. “i’m glad to say that minnie isn’t anything like that. if anything, i’d say she’s the opposite…”

“oh?” your professor quickly quips. “bit of a boy magnet, is she? i’m just messing with you. but yeah, like i said, it’s lovely to finally meet you. if you have any troubles, don’t ever feel scared to reach out to me. i’d rather that i know what’s going on than to be left guessing, and i promise you whatever ‘stupid’ thing you’re worrying about, i’ve definitely done dumber in my own undergrad years. sound cool?”

your eyes trail upwards again, from the outline of his small waist and broad chest. your mind wanders momentarily, wondering what his workout routine must be. you gloss over his smooth face, marveling at the smooth skin and the sunshine-like smile that tickles his mouth. he really couldn’t be that much older than you, despite being a professor, and if you saw him on the streets, outside of this academic setting, you would have never guessed him to hold such a position of authority with a face this young. his eyes are just like yours, lively but with a tinge of timidness that invites you to probe a bit deeper, a bit closer. and his hair: it’s the most beautiful, sensual shade of sunset orange.

it isn’t like your breath is being taken away in one fell swoop. rather, it feels like he’s coaxing it from you, stealing it away subtly so that you’re left to lean in, fiending for it like a fish caught out of water.

your gaze meets his, and you’re shoved back down to the correct plane of reality. fuck—you were not about to be caught staring like a creep at your professor on day one on all days…!

you nod shakily. “it’s nice to meet you too, professor-”

“-hinata,” he finishes, beaming even wider at you. “although, i told the class they can call me shoyo if they want to. i’m still pretty new to the whole teaching thing, so being called ‘professor’ feels a bit weird.”

“ah,” your voice drops in volume a tad, “i’m personally more comfortable with ‘professor’, so i’ll stick to that, i think. if it’s okay.”

he holds his hand up in mock surrender. “totally chill. whatever rocks your boat. if you don’t have any more questions, then make yourself comfortable. i think minnie tends to sit… over there, if you wanna get settled down. i know you already got the notes from her, but i promise you didn’t miss much in the first week, so don’t sweat anything.”

“thank you!” you breathe, getting ready to turn on your heel and march to the area professor hinata pointed out. something inside your rib cage trembles as if shocked with electricity, an anticipation for a breath of fresh air that only the beginning of a new semester could bring. you don’t know what to call it exactly. it isn’t quite excitement nor is it giddiness, but a liminal middle ground in between all of it where dread, the need for poise, and opportunity intermingle.

“hey.”

you glance over your shoulder at the sound of your professor’s voice. your professor grins at you, and in that split second, at you alone. his eyes twinkle fondly.

your breath catches in the back of your throat.

“let’s have a good semester together, you and i.”

the brown of his irises feel as if they’re going to swallow you whole.

you tear your eyes away.

…

“sooooooooo,” minnie practically slams your dorm room’s door shut and corners you in the small excuse of a room that you call home while at school. her eyes are brimming with the mischievous glimmer that you know all too well, and she stares you down with the most expectant look on her face. “isn’t the new professor hot? exactly like i told you?”

you dump your bag on the ground, crawling into your bed and immediately finding your place under the sheets. it’s been a long first day for you, and despite feverishly praying to whatever divinity was up above that the rest of your professors would be as kind as professor hinata was, it looks like your calls went wholly unanswered.

you massage the slight ache in your shoulders. “i mean, yeah, he’s an attractive man, and i guess he’s pretty nice. but nothing super out of the ordinary.”

minnie sticks her tongue out, and she pretends to boo you. she huffs her chest out and plants her hands squarely on her hips, clearly not impressed by your review of the new eye candy she’s scoped out. “you’re no fun! i bet you’re only saying this because you’re still hung up about that pathetic scum of a human being you call an ex. c’mon! the best way to get over a shitty boy is to simply find another one!”

something inside your chest twinges with a dull ache, and you flop back onto your bed. “as much as i would love to share your optimism, i don’t think hopping from one boy to another will make me feel any less shitty about this breakup.”

“well, you gotta give me something to work with! and besides,” she sidles up to the side of your bed, and she leans in close to your face, as if she’s whispering a secret to you. “professor hinata isn’t a boy. he’s a man.”

you hold back the urge to throw a pillow at your roommate. you’re grateful that you have minnie to get you out of your own mind sometimes, but at the same time, she better be grateful that she has you to ground her to reality.

“he’s our professor, minnie!” you pretend to scold her, but you fail at holding back an exasperated smile. “i’m all for you homie hopping through whatever ligma sigma dickma frat you’ve got your eyes on, but faculty are strictly off limits!”

“hey, be nice to me!” she laughs back, reaching over to poke at your cheeks. “doesn’t professor hinata look super young though? like he can’t be that far off from our age. that doesn’t make it that bad, does it?”

you shake your head. “i don’t care how old he is! pursuing your professor is a huge no-no!”

“ughhhhh! i’m trying to find the silver lining for you here! i’d much rather you drool over your hot professor than mope around in bed over your ex all day, okay? besides, it’s not every semester that we get to have a class together AND have a professor that doesn’t dress like fucking paddington,” she groans dramatically. she’s basically swooning at this point, acting as if the notion of a new, handsome romantic prospect for her to chase after and you being disinterested is the end of the world for her. you’re used to this song and dance by now, and you know she’s being theatrical just to get on your nerves.

it’s funny to you. minnie has a talent for making you laugh over the stupidest things. you barely stifle back a giggle. “leave paddington out of this! the poor guy has done nothing wrong.”

“you get my point!”

you settle back into your cozy spot on your bed, snuggling into your sheets. you don’t want to open up the can of worms that catching up on homework would be just yet, and as fantastical as minnie’s romantic endeavors could be, they make for a good distraction from all the responsibilities you don’t want to face yet. she glances at you lovingly, her fingers drumming against your rackety bed frame.

“but you do think he’s hot, yeah?” she starts. you snort.

“i said i found him to be an attractive man but nothing special, minnie.” you chew over your words, and your eyes flicker up to the white expanse of your ceiling. your mind conjures up images of your new professor, and the relief you had felt when he had treated you so warmly.

he was such a sunny young man, and true to minnie’s guess, probably not that much older than you were. most definitely fresh out of school and figuring things out for himself, your quick interaction with him before class felt more like talking to a classmate or a teacher’s assistant at best, rather than a well-educated professor trying to test his craft and wrangle throngs of antsy college students. you liked talking to him.

“i’d say he’s more charismatic than hot,” you offer up. minnie guffaws at your answer, and it’s her turn to roll her eyes.

“fine, fine, i get it! you’re not going to bite at whatever temptation i throw at you. that’s my roommate for you, always the toughest nut to crack,” she sighs and shakes her head at you as if you’re hopeless, but you know she means well. there’s nobody else in the world who would care for you like this, go this much out of her way to make sure you don’t feel alone.

it’s almost enough to dispel the thoughts of your new professor from your mind.

almost.

your heart softens around the edges when your mind pushes the image of him alone with you into your mind. just that one cadence, no longer than thirty seconds at most, when it was only the two of you in that empty classroom, with no other soul in the room to shield you from the incoming stranger wedging his way into your life—just you and him, caught in that suspended moment.

he’s still so beautiful in your memory.

“-anyways,” minnie’s loud voice jostles you from your thoughts. heat rushes to your face in embarrassment, as if you had been caught doing something bad red-handed. she doesn’t seem to notice, and you choke back your guilt on losing track of yourself over your new professor in favor of whatever minnie’s spouting next. she purses her lips in thought. “i’m feeling kinda peckish, so what do you say about getting takeout for dinner?”

“we have food in our fridge,” you curtly remind her.

she groans in utter defeat, flopping onto you over the side of your bed. “you’re such a goody two shoes! what in the world will ever get you to break?”

…

WEEK 4

what in the world, indeed.

you fidget listlessly inside professor hinata’s office. you’ve never seen him with glasses before, but a pair is perched slightly crooked on his nose as he clicks at the big monitors on his desk, probably pulling up whatever answer you scrawled out on the google form he had sent out a few days prior. you’ve always been a little antsy whenever meeting with a professor in general, but make it a mandatory one-on-one meeting with a certain professor that seems to make your heart act up and you’re vibrating so hard that you might as well cause an earthquake.

“so…,” he starts, skimming your response, “i really like what you wrote here. think you can tell me more about what you have planned for your final project?”

you lick your lips and swallow, and you’re suddenly aware of how dry your mouth is. “uh, yeah. i’m sure minnie’s already told you most of it-”

you stop dead in your tracks when professor hinata raises a hand, cutting you off. you pause, a prickle of dread swirling in your stomach.

he smiles apologetically. “sorry, i really don’t like interrupting students. but this is your final project, and i want to hear your ideas. not minnie’s. i know you wrote that you two want to do it as a pair, and that’s fine. but your ideas are just as valuable as yours are, and this time is reserved so i can pick at your brain, not hers.”

“r-right…,” you murmur. your heart flutters the slightest bit when you realize he’s paying special attention to you, but you shut any excitement down immediately. you were a goddamn adult and a college student. what kind of person would you be if you couldn’t hold it together around your professor, who 100% without a doubt saw you as a pupil? you mentally scold yourself for finding your instructor’s undivided attention appealing.

“like you said,” you start up, your voice still quiet, “i thought it’d be nice to do a joint research thing with minnie, and we wanted to focus on our campus’ experience with single versus shared dorm life. we figured something like that would be easy to find professional data for on a much larger scale, so we can compare and contrast with our own findings.”

he hums to himself. you keep your eyes fixed on a point on the wall behind him, not wanting your eyes to wander. it isn’t like professor hinata always comes to class impeccably dressed in a suit and tie or anything, but he also has a horrendously good sense of fashion that makes you instinctively shy away a bit. he’s dressed nicely today too: in a sweater with a white button down underneath that peeks over the collar of the sweater and what should be loose black pants that fit tightly around his thighs. you hate yourself for noticing these details.

“that sounds like a pretty solid plan to me. i like how far you’re thinking ahead. research like this usually takes a lot of time and energy, so it’s good to have a vision for what you plan to do at the end. do you have any thoughts as to how you’re going to collect data? i suppose reaching out to housing would help with pure numbers, but for tackling the more social and emotional parts, you’ll need to do that yourself.”

you’re keenly aware of when he glances towards you, his gaze burning into you like a magnifying glass held up to the sun. god, you shouldn’t be so on edge around him, and yet something about how casual he is with you and just how sweet he is with you makes you that much more stiff. you don’t dare meet his eyes.

maybe it’s that vulnerable intimate one-on-one that’s making you so much more aware of his presence, or maybe it’s the close confines of his office, but you know you’re going to waver if you make eye contact with him.

“minnie and i wanted to conduct physical surveys. we were planning on contacting the different r.a.s of each housing building and asking the school for the information to off campus housing managers. that way we can distribute questions as far as we can,” you recited stately. “we even considered maybe putting in a raffle reward for responses, which would incentivize people to actually respond instead of ignoring it.”

professor hinata whistles. “i’m impressed. you two have really thoroughly thought all of this through! you never fail to impress me with how much attention to detail you put with your schoolwork. i wish all of my students were as diligent as you were sometimes.”

you bite down on your tongue, and it takes all of your willpower to not let some kind of fucked up glee swell inside your chest. “thank you, professor. the idea was originally minnie’s idea, but i was the one that really did most of the work ironing out the kinks.”

he laughs heartily. “i can imagine. between the two of you, i can tell that you’re the more responsible one by a long shot. don’t get me wrong: minnie’s a wonderful student. but at the end of the day, it’s still you cleaning up her messes, isn’t it?”

“yeah,” you bashfully admit. you can’t even count the number of times you’ve been the one to pick her up from her drunken escapades or be the one to force her into bed after holding her hair while she pukes. as much emotional stability as she gives you, she does need a tad bit of mothering. “but she’s still a great friend. i couldn’t ask for a better roommate. we might have opposite personalities, but we balance each other out perfectly, i think.”

“that’s good to hear! it’s always nice to know my students are getting along. especially quieter ones like you.” he leans forward in his seat, almost as if he’s whispering a secret to you. “us professors aren’t allowed to have favorites, but it’s human nature to always root a little for the well-behaved underdogs.”

you swallow a bit more harshly. there’s a lump in your throat. you really, really need to do something about whatever you feel towards your professor, because you know deep down that it’s wrong to keep wanting his attention like this. he’s being friendly and watching out for you, because he knows you’re the plain mouse-like student amongst a sea of wild young adults carving their way in the world. he’s only helping you, only complimenting you because he’s genuine and wants to see you do well, and you’re hoarding that attention and craving it like a man starved.

“she’s done a lot to get me where i am right now,” you admit, wanting to deflect. “i broke up with my now ex-boyfriend over the summer, and she did so much to make sure i was doing okay. i know you probably don’t care that much about messy college student drama, but… she has my back until the end.”

he raises an eyebrow. “i don’t mind. trust me, professors love hearing about student drama as much as the students do. also if it helps me get to know you better, then it doesn’t hurt, does it? having more information, no matter how silly, is better than knowing nothing about you at all.”

“i mean, it really is silly.” you’re trying very hard not to look him in the face. your eyes flit everywhere but, looking at your hands, the neckline of his sweater, the peeling wallpaper, anything. “i really liked that guy, and he ran off and cheated on me. i caught him red handed and did the right thing by confronting him and immediately breaking things off, but it’s not like you can wake up and decide that you don’t like someone anymore, no matter how awful he was to me.”

“i’m sorry that happened to you. it’s never fun to feel betrayed by someone you trusted, especially romantically.” he taps his fingers together.

you wave him off, shrugging. “i’m a lot better about it now! it hurts every now and then, but i’m choosing to focus on myself. i did nothing wrong, and it’s better for me to have cut him off than to turn a blind eye. and minnie’s always inviting me out to all sorts of things to take my mind off of it too.”

“that’s good. i wish i could say relationships get easier once you become an adult, but… there’s no cheat key to things like love. you gotta roll up your sleeves and do the nitty gritty work.” he feigns rolling his sleeves up, and he shakes his head. a blur of orange flickers like candle light in the corner of your eye. “even full grown adults do terrible things to each other. but just like you said, it makes you appreciate the bonds that stay true to you even through your hardships.”

“clearly,” you breathe. your voice is airy, almost strained. god, he was just so easy to spill your heart to. why couldn’t your ex be like this? professor hinata is thoughtful, intelligent, and emotionally mature. you need to step away, need to keep your distance, but even your attempts to deflect yourself away from the growing attachment you have to your instructor only ends with him expertly spinning things into his favor.

he chuckles to himself and leans back into his seat. “my mom would always say that it’s better to be single and free than to be miserable and tied down. besides, you’re only in college! the big wide world is waiting for you! i promise you, there are far better guys out there that can treat you the way you deserve to be treated. one failed college relationship isn’t going to doom you for the rest of your life, okay? take this one from your prof.”

“i’m sure.”

you don’t doubt his words. the little resolve, the sliver of morality lingering inside your turmoiled brain, is crackling. it’s wrong to lean this forward towards your professor, to grasp and grip at the stray straws you can see, and yet, it feels so good. the heady silence that settles over the two of you is reminiscent of your first meeting with him, back to the moment when it was only you and him in the same way it is now.

but things are different today. he knows more about you. you’ve learned to trust him. he’s always respected you, but it’s clear that he treats you like an adult on equal footing with him rather than your other professors who act as if you were born yesterday. he genuinely cares for you.

you subconsciously steel your stomach, and you sneak your eyes upwards from the hemline of his sweater. your gaze trickles cautiously over his broad chest and his neck, over the detail of his lips and nose, apple-like cheeks, before eventually meeting his inquisitive one. you unintentionally let out a choked sigh, like the wind is being squeezed out from your lungs.

his eyes light up and smile at you, as if to say “finally.”

you can’t breathe.

you want to lean in; you want to close that impossible gap that tenses and pulses between the two of you. what kind of tension is this? something so forbidden, so magnetic, so undeniable yet unavailable for the taking… it feels like torture, to see your meek reflection staring back at you in the wide sclera and captivating brown irises of professor hinata’s eyes, and to be able to do nothing about it. this was the devastating nature of attraction, knowing that your personal insanity might amount to nothing the very instant you handed your fate over to another.

knock knock knock.

you nearly splutter over your own inhale before jerking away back into your seat. a loud knocking noise repeats itself around the small confines of his office, and you’re left stunned, your heart hammering like a death toll inside your tense ribcage. you drop your face down to the floor, not daring to tear your eyes away from anywhere other than the anchoring, humiliating safety of the ground.

“ah, looks like our time is up. it seems like the next student is here,” professor hinata explains, much to your simultaneous dismay and relief. this isn’t a line you can cross, and yet you crossed some kind of personal boundary you set up for yourself right there when you snuck a glimpse into your professor’s eyes.

“i-i’ll get going. thank you for the meeting,” you stammer, hurriedly grabbing your things and almost stumbling over your feet to get to the door. “i’ll keep working on my project- and uh- i’ll reach out to you if i have any questions…!”

you don’t know what kind of face he must be making, not when you don’t have the courage to look at him again. you sprint out of the door, away from the tense sparks that lay dying out into fumes between the two of you, surely a machination of your deprived brain. the hallway echoes with the sound of your footsteps as you half-run-half-speed-walk away from the office, wanting to go anywhere else as quickly as your clumsy feet would take you.

how could you be so stupid? not only do you end up blabbing about a bad breakup to him, revealing that you’re single, but you’re idiotic enough to think that his goodwill is something you can entertain into something further.

you hate to admit it.

you’re falling in love with your professor.

…

WEEK 7

“you should go out with me this weekend.”

“i’ll think about it.”

“pleaseeeeeeee? i basically have my outfit picked out, and i’m dying to get a matching one for you! it’s been so long since you let me dress you up, and i’m itching to do something fun with you for the weekend! please? pretty please? with sprinkles and oreos and whipped cream and cherries on top?”

you groan, tempted to slam your head into your desk. “minnie, i said i’ll think about it. i’ve already seen the five million instagram dms you’ve sent me begging to go to whatever frat party is being thrown.”

“it’s sig-chi,” she reminds you, as if that’s the important part. some of the students next to you shoot the two of you odd glances, and you flash a weak smile, inwardly apologizing for minnie’s obliviousness when it came to blurting your business. it wasn’t like the entire class heard, thank god, but the noise levels weren’t high enough where you could act a bit more stealthily. you wish it was, even if it was only to spare you from whatever social embarrassment your mostly well-meaning roommate was bound to put you through.

you turn your attention back to the work you’re trying to get done. you’re grateful professor hinata gives you time in class to work on your final projects. after that fateful instance in office hours with him where you came face-to-face with your feelings, you haven’t been able to really act normally around your instructor. fearing for your own sanity, you’ve done everything you possibly can to avoid interacting with him one-on-one. it’s not like something like that is particularly difficult to do, but your heart still skips a beat and lodges itself in the back of your throat when he catches you in the hallway, greeting you with a light “good to see you!” before squeezing past you.

your cheeks sting with heat when you think about him. you bite down only your tongue, willing for the dull pain to ground you. minnie hums absentmindedly next to you, completely unaware of the hell that she’s partially responsible for, and she taps away at her phone.

“hey, hey, look at this! isn’t this outfit sooooo cute? it would look perfect on you! and if i order it today, it should get here in time for the sig-chi function!” she sticks her phone screen in your face, and you instinctively recoil away.

your blood runs cold when you see the outfit she’s showing you. it’s a cute sparkly little number, except for the fact that it would cover barely anything if you were to put it on. one wrong move in it, and your whole chest and ass would be out for the world to see. and that’s not including the already exposed midriff it would entail. “it’s cute, but- i don’t know if i could wear something like that…”

“nonsense! i can see you perfectly in it! it’ll be awesome!” she quickly cuts you off. “a cute but still slutty outfit is key to every good party! i bet you’ll have all of the guys in there chasing after you in this. oh, the color will sooooo make your eyes pop, and i think i can really make your features shine with a bit of my make up too…”

you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole. embarrassment prickles like red-hot thorns underneath your face, and you try to grab at minnie’s phone. “minnie! you know i don’t wear things like that!”

“exactly! it’s all the more reason why! i’m trying to help you make your debut on the university dating scene,” the girl responds as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “you’ll be thanking me once you have a drop dead gorgeous six foot something basketball player wrapped around your little finger. trust me, i’m the expert in these kinds of things.”

“that’s not the point!” you hiss. ugh, you should really know better than to talk reason into her during one of her frenzied rants. you have absolutely zero intention of actually going out to one of these sleazy frat parties, let alone wear a skimpy outfit in order to bait a boy! you need time and patience to heal your broken heart, not… her wild schemes. you would rather bite off your tongue than go through whatever public humiliation ritual is involved with flirting at a frat party.

“ladies,” a deep yet sunny voice cuts through your annoyed inner monologue like a hot knife through butter, “i hope we’re actually getting work done. you wouldn’t be goofing off in my class, would you?”

your blood turns into ice for the second time within minutes, and when you peel your eyes up from your desk, your fear comes true when you see professor hinata standing there. his hands are on his hips, and despite his teasingly scolding tone, he’s sporting a bright smile.

you curse yourself inwardly, and you’re mentally scrambling to make an excuse.

“professor! look at this! wouldn’t this look so good on (y/n)?” minnie’s a step ahead of you. you audibly splutter over your breath, and you shove your head into your hands. she giggles as she sticks her phone in your professor’s face, and you’ve never been more mortified in your life.

professor hinata’s eyes widen at the more-lingerie-than-actual-clothing that’s being bombarded into his eyes, and he coughs, waving his hand. “woah, i’m not sure if i’m the right person to be asking that, minnie! why don’t we save the party talk for after class?”

she pretends to be exasperated, and she jokingly rolls her eyes. “ugh, you two are hopeless! you have to help me out here, professor. i’m trying to get (y/n) to loosen up a bit and have some fun with me! isn’t it true that you feel loads better when you do a bit of dolling up?”

“well, yes, but it looks like (y/n) here isn’t too keen on that idea. take it easy on the party going, and let’s focus more on your final project. trust me when i say your deadlines will be creeping up on you fast,” he easily brushes minnie off. she smiles brightly and nods, and only then does she finally turn to her computer and start compiling her research.

you want lightning to strike you down and burn you to a crisp. you peel your head out of your hands, and your weary eyes meet your professor’s. he grins understandingly at you, and he reaches forward to squeeze your shoulder empathetically.

“...!”

you grit your teeth, your eyes widening like a deer caught in headlights as electricity courses through your body. the skin where his hand just was feels like it had been burned, thrown completely off guard by the sudden contact.

“are you doing okay?” he whispers. his voice is soft and quiet, coaxing you out of your panicked state. it’s a voice reserved solely for you, one that only you can hear, and your blood is being weighed down by figurative iron when your heart flutters. “take it easy now. don’t let her goad you into doing something you don’t want to do.”

your lips feel clumsy. “she means well. i’m fine. she talks big, but she won’t actually do anything without my express permission.”

he’s more of a danger to you than minnie will ever be. you wish you had the courage or brainlessness to blurt something like that, but the bitter revelation stays curled up into the flesh of your still tongue, burning and scalding you like the unspoken confession it is.

“that’s good to hear. take care of yourself though. if she keeps fretting over you, you’ll make me worry too, you hear?” his nose crinkles a little when he squeezes your shoulder again. did he always have freckles? or are you only noticing them now that he’s up close and you have nowhere else to focus except for his face? you hate it, hate this tension, hate the way you can’t control yourself despite knowing better.

you hang your head, forcibly tearing your eyes away from your handsome professor. you lie through your teeth. “i’ll be okay, professor.”

…

“ohhhhh, fuck…!”

shoyo double, triple, quadruple-checked to make sure that his office door was firmly locked around him. it would be the literal death of his academic career if someone were to catch him doing what he was about to do, and he wasn’t that keen on throwing aside his future just yet.

he had made a beeline for his office the moment class let out. it took every bone in his body, every last bit of willpower he has ever known in his entire life to keep his sunny facade up and to make sure no one would see his mask slip. he can’t afford it, and yet he’s still gambling too riskily. he’s cutting it too close to safety to relax fully, but he can’t stop.

his cock twitches and strains in his pants, begging for his attention. he leans his back against the firm wooden door, his breathing shallowing as lewd images flash behind his eyes. fuck—he really should know how to control himself better than this, actually listen to the angel in his brain telling him that he should really quit being so attracted to his students.

correction: student.

correction again: you.

his fingers unconsciously unbuckle his belt, and his pants drop down to his ankles. he grits his teeth, a strangled breath escaping his clenched teeth as he palms the prominent bulge in his boxers. it was one thing to ride out his delusions on his own, savoring the forbidden dregs of toeing the line between professionalism and a taboo romance.

you played the part so well too. like a frightened doe that would run away if he moved too quickly, you were good at keeping your walls up and fending off his quiet advances enough. the push and pull had him reeling: part of him wanting him to do better and to act properly as a new professor should, and another wondering how much cuter you’d be bent over his desk and your pretty cunt stuffed full of his cock.

“...shit-,” he hisses as his hands slip underneath his boxers. it only takes a few strokes for his cock to fully get hard, and the cool air of the office hits his sensitive skin like a flurry of ice. heat courses through his body, and he feels awful.

he shouldn’t be doing this. he shouldn’t be getting aroused by his student and jerking off in his office, but here he was. the last straw was seeing your roommate pitch that damn slutty outfit. you looked so innocent and so sweet, clearly not a party animal, but how often did your roommate swing you around? did you get down and wild if pushed far enough? shit, was your good girl thing just a ruse to get brownie points with him?

“fuck- fuuuuck…!” he starts stroking himself, palm swiping from base to tip, squeezing his cockhead a hair. dull pleasure swirls deep inside of his stomach, and he moves his hips into his palm, the friction downright addictive.

he imagines you in that outfit, your tits and ass basically out for the world to see. maybe you’d let your friend drag you out to her silly party. maybe you’d act shy there too, skirting around the sidelines of the dance room, sipping nervously on your drink. maybe the alcohol would make your head buzz a bit and you’d get a bit bolder. maybe you’d let some douchey frat bro feel you up, that dumb bastard not knowing how good he has it by getting your attention.

shoyo groans under his breath. god, you shouldn’t be wasting your energy and time on stupid college boys. all they would do is exploit you and leave you for dead, even though you were clearly the best thing to walk into their lives.

he thumbs over his weeping tip, moaning throatily as he presses into his slit. his chest rises and falls, the electric feeling making his knees go weak. touching himself never felt this good. nothing came close to that buzzing high of being deprived of you.

his mind doesn’t stop wandering. raunchy thoughts of you dancing floods his brain. he imagines you grinding up against him, your soft ass pressing up against his crotch. he’d buck his hips against yours, let the heat mount as his hands wander over your body, that skimpy outfit of you doing nothing to protect you from him. you’d glance back at him, feeling his strong chest up on your back, the muscles of his arms tensing when you pull him flush against you. your eyes would have that drunken haze to them, intoxicated off of whatever was in your cup and getting down and dirty with your professor.

it reminds him of his own idiotic undergraduate days, ones he thought he matured past when he became a proper working adult. clearly not, if the thought of dancing with you and feeling you up has him furiously fisting his hard cock.

he needs to be inside you. he doesn’t want to feel his hand on his cock anymore. he wants to ruin that pristine image you have. he wants to see you crying and moaning, going from his stellar unassuming pupil to some cock crazed slut, begging for him to fuck you harder, to fuck you deeper, completely at his mercy. he wants to see your clothes in tatters with nothing to shield you from his almost animalistic lust, for you to see him as a proper grown man who wants to pamper you as much as he wants to ruin you rather than some stuffy professor.

it’s downright problematic how much he needs you. it’s more than just wanting to fuck you. no, he’s a gentleman. he wants you to want him, even if it’s only to ease the guilt nagging at his heart. you’re too smart for your own good, and yet when you’re surrounded by all these bad apples nipping at your heels and waiting for you to stumble, it’s no wonder that you’ve become so holed in.

you simply need someone who’ll treat you right. who’ll make you shine. who’ll be a proper lover, someone that can actually step up to that mantle.

“hah- god fucking dammit…! fuck- fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck- shit…! fucking hell, god- fuck!” his grip on his cock tightens, and he thinks his body is going to break. the dopamine buzz in his mind is almost explosive, and he knows he can’t control himself for much longer. he's close, so close, egged onto the edge by fantasizing about the thought of his student in a revealing party outfit.

what kind of scum did that make him? if his mind was any clearer, he might know, but it isn’t. all that his sex-riddled brain can make out is how badly he wants your body. he craves the weird sick satisfaction of being the one to stretch out your sweet hole with his girthy length, to fill every little bit of your womb up with pumps of his hot cum, to pleasure you so thoroughly that he’ll ruin sex for the rest of your life—unless it’s with him, of course.

you flicker behind his eyes again. your body trembles against his as he pretends he’s thrusting into you rather than his pre-cum drenched hand. your cunt quivers and tightens around him, and your face is stained with your tears. mascara runs down your cheeks, and your lipstick is smeared messily all over your mouth. your legs shake around his hips as he fucks into you, tip easily squeezing and abusing that sweet spot deep inside your body.

“what a pretty girl.” he’d praise you, take his sweet time making sure you get all the loving you deserve. “how could someone as pretty as you stay out of my sight for so long?”

the image of you in his mind bucks your hips back against him, and the pleasure that explodes around his cock has him weak in the knees. he’s so close, so close to giving you his seed, to marking you as his. he’s humping into you desperately, wanting you to feel that impeccable stretch, pierced and plowed by him, driven to madness by his infatuation.

“i’m here! i’m yours!” you pant out. you’re starstruck. smitten. everything he’s wanted.

“-kgh…!”

warmth overtakes his entire body, and strong ropes of cum escape from him. he grits his teeth, clenching his jaw and willing himself to keep his moans to himself. he’s dead meat if he gets caught masturbating to the thought of his student in his office. cum spills out all over his office floor and coats his hands, spilling and spilling like the pent up frustration bottled away in his heart. he furiously strokes himself through his orgasm, and sparks fly in his brain, pleasure coursing through his veins like one giant shockwave.

he throws his head back, gasping for air as his cock sputters, the last drops of virile cum leaking out and covering his fingers. his cock slowly softens in his hand, and he sucks in deep inhales, the cool air soothing the heat enveloping his entire body.

shoyo’s mind feels fuzzy and distant, like he’s been shoved out of this plane of existence temporarily. his limbs are weak, and his abs tense and coil in on itself as he forces himself to steady his breathing. his vision is blurred slightly around the edges, but the world emerges back into focus with each passing inhale and exhale.

he hasn’t even fully come down from his high, but he knows that the lack of guilt he’s feeling is wrong. he should feel bad, he should feel dirty, he should feel like he’s done something criminal. what professor jerks off to his student and doesn’t feel any sort of post-nut clarity? he swallows heavily, but the knot in his throat that should be there is nowhere to be found.

he doesn’t want to give his growing interest in you any more attention than it needs. the last thing he should be doing is fanning the flames, and just now, he fed the monster when he should be depriving it, starving it.

his gaze crests downwards, towards the pristine streaks of pearly cum all over his hand and the floor. he knows he’s beyond saving when he bitterly wishes all of it could have gone inside of you and your sweet pussy instead of being wasted on nothing.

“...let’s clean up,” he whispers to no one in particular. he hates the apathy he feels, reaching almost robotically for the kleenex he kept on his desk, not a single prick of guilt or wrongdoing stirring in his body as he moves clumsily through the aftershocks of his orgasm to rid the proof that he had even touched himself to the thought of you to begin with. you don’t have to know that he ever jerked off to you or the fact that his desire for you grows and festers like a rotten wound inside of his heart. because that is what it is in the eyes of everything that is moral and good: rotten.

but what you don’t know can’t kill you.

…

WEEK 10

you had dreaded the next mandatory meeting with professor hinata for a while now. you had done such a good job of keeping a low profile for a while now, only ever addressing your instructor when it was absolutely necessary and whatever interactions you needed so that he wouldn’t pick up on the fact that you were purposefully avoiding him.

you had also done a good job at keeping minnie’s eagerness at bay. your final project for professor hinata’s class was a very handy excuse to avoid going out to parties with her, and crunching the data also did an exceptional job at keeping you busy instead of moping about in your room alone.

you’d think at this point in the semester you’d have quit being so hung up over your ex and your general failure of a love life, but seeing that your romantic prospect was a crush on your professor that you were actively trying to get over for your own sake, clearly things weren’t looking great for you.

but this was something you couldn’t escape. you sit on your hands to keep yourself from more or less bolting out of professor hinata’s office. his eyes are glued to the monitors on his desk in good professor-like fashion, scanning over the work you’ve handed in for him to check.

you’ve done this song and dance before. you’ve been stuck in his office before, too scared to make eye contact with your professor out of fear as to your heart betraying you. you have to keep a firm grip on yourself, and you look at your professor but make it a point not to look at his face.

“man, i know i say this every time i look over your progress, but you really do outdo yourself. you deserve a pat on the back,” he remarks, smiling proudly as he leans back in his seat. “you’re definitely in a good place for where we are in the semester, and as long as you keep at it, i’d say you’ll easily get an a for your final grade.”

“thank you,” you quietly state. he’s dressed simply today, in a black turtleneck and jeans. it makes his bright orange hair stand out that much more, and you try with all your might not to stare too hard at the obvious outlines of his toned pecs and waist straining against the fabric of the sweater.

he looks good today too. you want to eat your own fist and curl up into a ball to cry. it was like for every step forward your determination took to keep yourself in check, professor hinata threw a screwball at you to make you take two steps back.

you wish things would go as smoothly as it did the last time you were here, vulnerable to his scrutiny and left with your own flimsy defenses. the same thick tension hangs in the air again, and you pray that you won’t act out of place.

“so,” his voice cuts through your thoughts, like it always does. he knows how to catch you right off guard, wedging himself right into the split-second crack in your judgment. “all i’ve got to say is that i’m excited to see your actual final all put together. your findings are going to be really interesting, and i’m also looking forward to comparing what you find against whatever conclusions minnie draws from the same data. i don’t mean to get so personal again, but the two of you are so different that i wonder if your findings will be that stark too.”

you inhale, fixing your eyes on a spot behind him as if it was ritual to ground yourself that way. “i won’t spoil too much of her stuff, but she also has some pretty cool ideas. she’s told me some things that i wouldn’t have thought to consider in her part of the project, so… just something to get you more hyped!”

he chuckles, the low cadence of his voice making your heart flutter a beat. “i’ll take your word for it. i hope she’s treating you well. i know that you know your bond with her better than i ever will, but i really hope her energetic personality isn’t too overbearing for you. you come to me if you have any issues, okay?”

“i appreciate it. but i’m fine, really. she’s a lot, i know, but she means it out of love,” you reply methodically. this isn’t the first time someone has scrutinized your relationship with her, often misconstruing her enthusiasm and your more quiet personality to her mistreating you. sure, you two don’t see eye-to-eye about everything, but you wouldn’t hold her so close if she wasn’t someone who would see things through thick and thin for you.

he nods. “alright, i trust you. but it never hurts to be vigilant. take it from someone with a bit more life experience than you do: people can still hurt you and claim that it’s from a place of love. this isn’t to say that minnie’s a bad person, but you and i have something special. i want you to stay safe.”

something lodges in the back of your throat. your mind swirls dangerously, and you can’t think. special? you and him have something special? you almost laugh unconsciously; it’s like despite all the work you did to keep your heart under lock and key, he’s determined to burrow his way in there.

you hate how easily you crumble. all it took him was one well timed sentence with that stupidly charming voice of his, and it made weeks on weeks of self-imposed deprivation disappear like dust.

“don’t worry, i’ve been doing a lot of work to take care of myself. do you remember that ex i told you about? after him, i did a lot of work reevaluating the people closest to me and whether or not i trusted them blindly,” you hesitate, pursing your lips and sucking your cheeks in a little. you comb over your next thoughts carefully. talking with professor hinata is a mental game of its own, and you feel like you’re playing against an impossible opponent. “there’s… definitely a more eloquent way for me to have phrased all of that, but… you get the point.”

“i do. god, you poor thing. how could anyone hurt someone like you like he did? i know i’m biased as your professor, but even then… you’re so bright and kind. he really fumbled. that’s my two cents.” his shoulders shake a bit as he laughs, the sound coming from somewhere deep inside of his chest. your stomach feels queasy, and every part of your body wants to swoon. your attraction to him is trouble. it’s fatal.

you dig your nails into the flesh of your palms. the stinging pain does little to bring you back to your good conscience, but it’s something to focus on other than the hazy lapses in judgment that dance inside your mind. “it’s all growing pains. this is what being an adult means, doesn’t it? you said so yourself last time we talked. there’s bound to be someone better out there in the world.”

you don’t need to look at him to know that he’s looking at you. the office feels constricting and so much smaller than you remember it to be, as if the walls are actively moving in closer and keeping you trapped in there with your deathly charismatic professor.

“yes.” his voice drops a bit in volume, and it sounds almost intimate. “yes, i did say that.”

something possesses you. it creeps in quietly, like a drop of ink dispersed into a glass of clear water. no, you shouldn’t say that; whatever was plaguing you had taken root months ago. whatever you were trying to save was just a remnant of the ruin in your head. you swallow thickly, almost like you were trying to press your logic, your goodness, your moral conscience back down into nothingness.

you lift your face. his sweet eyes are there to greet you, and they light up when you meet his gaze. his eyes are warm and welcoming, and you’re instantly entranced. he’s beautiful, insanely beautiful, and the brown color has you floored. you want to reach out and cup his face, and you want to just stare into his eyes forever. it’s like he’s a siren that’s called out to you specifically, tempting you to inch closer and to let him take you away, entranced forever. your lips start quivering. you can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t reflect and let out one last pathetic struggle to cling to what you know to be right.

maybe things would have been different then. maybe if you tried harder, you’d have picked the morally correct thing. maybe you’d walk out of professor hinata’s office unscathed, your relationship tense but still at the boundary it should be at, and you’d graduate and put your crush behind you as nothing more than a silly infatuation.

but you don’t. some repressed part of your mind slips. the words tumble from your mouth before you can stop yourself.

“i wish it could be you.”

you instantly throw your hands over your mouth, your eyes widening in shock. regret flashes through your entire being, and your face burns with shame. professor hinata gasps softly, but he doesn’t say anything.

“sorry-,” you fumble, your stomach twisting into horrid knots. panic shoots through your brain, and you’re screaming internally at yourself. you want to say something, anything, apologize profusely, but the gears in your head won’t turn. your entire mental processes are overrun with nothing but sheer panic, and you feel like your brain has turned into a piece of useless metal. “i-i’m sorry…! i didn’t mean it like that- i wasn’t thinking… i just- i don’t know what came over me.”

“hey, hey, calm down.” he reaches forward, leaning over his desk, and a firm hand plants itself on your knee. you almost jerk away from him, like his touch would hurt you, and your professor can see the wild, feral fear in your eyes.

it’s one thing to deal with your illicit feelings on your own, but to accidentally blurt them and make them known to him? to professor hinata? the very object of your forbidden affections?

“it’s okay. it’s okay. i’m being serious, it’s alright. there’s no need to freak out.” his words cut into the blinding flurry of thoughts in your head. “talk to me, here. you good?”

you nod frantically, forcing a deep breath in through your nose. “i’m fine. i’m okay, i promise. i… please ignore what i just said.”

he retracts his hand. he swallows, and you can see his adam’s apple bob underneath the neckline of his turtleneck sweater. you should know better than to look into his eyes again, not when every time looking into his face spelled trouble for you, but when you stare up at him helplessly, he looks nothing like the bubbly, carefree professor you knew.

his pupils are blown wide open, and there’s a kind of intensity settling inside of his eyes that you’ve never seen before. his lips are parted just slightly, like he’s about to say something but the words are caught on the tip of his tongue. a shiver tiptoes down your spine. he looks like a man haunted, the once cordial candlelight-esque brown of his irises running big and reckless like a wildfire.

you don’t recognize this side of him, but you don’t dislike it either. you lick your lips quickly, suddenly aware of your extremely dry mouth.

he lets out a deep exhale through his nose. “...i need you to listen to me.”

“i am,” you squeak back. your mind flashes back to minnie, to your superstar queen bee of a roommate. how would she navigate something like this? knowing her, she would navigate this gracefully. she could probably play it off as a joke and laugh around with professor hinata. she could bat her eyelashes and charm him, maybe pass this off as a bit of awkward flirting and walk away scot free. you’ve never had the same social grace that she manages to pull off so effortlessly.

“i… i apologize if i’m reading too much in between the lines.” he sounds strained, as if he’s holding a part of him back. his eyes are locked onto you, honed in as if you’ll skirt away out of his sight. “but i don’t think either of us can ignore whatever it is we have going on. i want to make myself clear here. i am your professor, and you are my student. the mature, responsible thing for me to do as your instructor is to ignore your remark and to move on. if that is what you want, then i will let you walk out of my office. we can pretend nothing happened. everything that happened here stays between us.”

you pause, and you wring your hands together. you know that that’s the choice you should take. that your relegated role in this song and dance is to be the good kid and to never stray away from your place as a nobody bookworm with good grades and nothing special. and yet your mouth moves, “...is there another option?”

he clenches his jaw. he has to be at his limit, just as much as you are. you see the edge in his eyes, flaring like sparks, waiting for you to touch and him to come away burned. you don’t care. you’re hurtling straight at the point of no return, and you’re burning up, beautiful and flaming and waiting to be consumed into nothingness.

“i… we take care of this whole thing. but i want to make sure you want this as much as i do. i hope you understand the gravity of what this means for both of us. it’s very, very wrong for a teacher and a student to be in love with each other.” professor hinata takes a big breath in, and he shoves his hand through the wild tufts of his orange hair. “but if you are insistent on pursuing this route with me, so long as you’re willing to accept your responsibility, then…”

he stops, and he whispers the last part, barely and only loud enough for your ears, “...i can’t say that i can refuse you.”

your hands curl into decisive fists in your lap. so this is where you are. these are the conditions that life has mercilessly thrown at your feet. your heart and brain are at odds with each other. your mind screams at you to think of your future, that your life would certainly be ruined if anyone would find out that you had an illicit relationship with your professor. and what about him? it would spell a certain social death for him too if he were to be found out.

but your heart begs. you’ve ignored its cries for basically your entire life now, always picking the expected thing, pushing down your own wants in exchange for the security and the safety of a quiet life. this is one time in your life that you’ve truly wanted something, truly yearned for it with your entire existence. how is it fair to deny this from yourself? haven’t you given enough up? you gave up sociability when making friends with minnie, gave up a chance at normalcy when breaking up with your ex, and now love with professor hinata?

“i know there’s a right answer, professor hinata,” you hang your head. uneasiness claws at your ribcage, but the desire bubbling up inside of you hurts even more. “but i’m sorry. i don’t think i have it in me to be good anymore.”

he waits a beat, and the silence hangs above you like the weight of a million sins. the laugh he lets out is airy, relieved. “i was hoping you’d say that. well… come here. let me have you.”

you don’t know how you don’t trip over your own feet as you get up. you walk over to him as if in a trance, looking down at your professor with shaking eyes. he looks so confident as he grins up at you, legs spread slightly in that old office chair of his, every part of him just as inviting and tempting as the day you first laid eyes on him.

you’re practically crawling into his lap, and his strong arms are around you. his mouth is instantly on yours, and you gasp, the feeling of soft lips consuming you entirely. this wasn’t your first kiss by a long shot, but it was your first kiss with him. and god, it was everything those stupid romance movies made a kiss out to be: electric, addictive, leaving you dizzy and giddy and reeling in his embrace.

you’re glad he’s there to hold you. you place your hands shyly on his chest, warmth pooling in your stomach when you can feel the strong tension of his muscles. you never realized you were this downright touch starved, basically melting into putty in his hands as he kisses you over and over again, the hushed sounds of your lips locked together and breathless pants filling the room.

your head spins. this must be the charm of an experienced lover. his touches mold into yours, adjusting to you and making you feel as if you can put your trust wholly into him. his tongue laps at your lips, and you let him in, let him swirl his tongue deep into your mouth. you feel so full on the inside, your chest swelling with everything you’re repressed coming out now in droves. his tongue moves around yours, and your ears drink up the lewd sounds of your french kissing.

his hands grasp at you firmly, memorizing your touch and the way your body feels under his palms. his thick thighs make for the perfect seat, and you cling to him as he kisses you. making out with him feels like an eternity but also as if no time has passed at all, whisked away into the special place meant solely for lovers, sincerely lost in your own world with him. he feels so good around you and under your skin, even better than the fleeting fantasies you might allow yourself to have.

a strand of saliva connects the two of you when he pulls away from you finally. your chest heaves as you gulp down oxygen, your fingertips shaking as you curl them into the soft fabric of his sweater.

“you…,” he gasps, unable to tear his eyes away from your clearly shaken form, “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do that to you.”

heat nestles deep inside your stomach. it’s wicked and possessive, but you want to be special to him. and now you know that you are, your desire to have more of him is insatiable. something throbs and pulses within your core, and it’s pitiful just how weak you are to him after a handful of well-executed kisses. fuck having any kind of stupid romance with some dumb college boy your age: none of them could even dream of leaving you this stunned and your body itching for literally anything more.

you grasp at him. “please- please, more- kiss me again… i need it- i need more-”

“-shhh, i’ve got you, pretty.” he moves in so close to your face, his lips only a breath away from yours. you’ve never had someone kiss you so carnally before, his desire emanating off of him in thick waves. you’re probably no better, begging for your hot professor to make out more with you as if his tongue wasn’t down your throat mere seconds ago and as if it isn’t his spit that’s coating your lips thickly.

it feels right. there’s no other way for you to describe him kissing you again. his lips move so gently against yours and yet brims with a kind of brutish need. it’s like he doesn’t want to scare you away but can barely contain himself, not when he has you right where he wants you. you don’t mind. you want him to be greedy, and you want him to take you wholly.

you’re so happy, and you love it when his tongue is in your mouth, guiding your clumsy movements. it’s lewd kissing you’ve only seen couples do through the drunken haze of some seedy frat basement during a crazy party or in a raunchy porn video, and you get it. it finally clicks inside your head why people go crazy for these kinds of things, why people lose their minds when they’re unable to fully get a grasp over their own sexual needs. it’s like an awakening for you, as if some monster that had been caged in your heart is now breaking free of its restraints.

you moan shamelessly into professor hinata’s mouth. you need more. just kissing isn’t enough, only having his tongue in your mouth isn’t enough. the pounding between your hips won’t go away, and if anything, it’s getting worse with each passing second. he’s turning you on, and your body refuses to listen to you. but why should you hold back? he’s right there for you, and you’re willing to give yourself to him without any room for regret.

“please-,” you sound so needy, so desperate, so unlike any part of the removed personality you kept around your professor. “touch me more… i need you, professor-”

“-don’t call me that,” he whispers against your mouth. “shoyo. call me shoyo. i’m not your professor right now.”

“shoyo,” the name tastes like sticky sweet honey against your mouth, “touch me, shoyo.”

his hands snake down to your waist, and he looks at you expectantly as his fingertips slip under your shirt. you shudder when his fingertips press firmly into your skin and flesh, like a reminder of what you’re getting yourself into. “good girl. do you want me to go all the way with you right now?”

“yes! god, please, yes- shoyo, take me.” you bury your head into the crook of his neck. his calming scent floods your nose, and you think you’re going into heat. “i’ve never needed someone more in my life.”

something hard presses up against your crotch. he grunts, “that’s a dangerous thing to say to me.”

you let him lift your shirt away from your body, coaxing it gently over your head before tossing it somewhere onto his office floor. your body heats up, blood pumping under your skin. you prickle slightly against the cold office air, and you bite down a bit on your tongue. his hands crawl up the expanse of your stomach and up to your chest, and he looks at you as if he’s been starved.

“god, you drive me crazy,” he breathes. your voice catches somewhere in the back of your throat. you can feel the warmth of his palms hovering over your breasts, the thin fabric of your bra doing nothing to protect you from him. “to think you’ve been hiding from me this entire time, right under my nose…”

you gasp when he gropes you through your bra, his hands molding against your breasts. you fill his palms out so easily, and you grind down against his lap, sparks flying inside of your mind. you grip onto him again, breathing needily against the crook of his neck as he plays with your chest, letting you adjust to the feeling of his heavy hands on your body.

he touches you so sweetly and so beautifully. not like the clumsy horny ways boys your age would, but with confidence and reverence, like he purposefully wants to take his time with you. you whimper when his fingers hook into the cups of your bra, and you let him yank it down to fully free your chest.

your pussy throbs when his hands are on your bare breasts. he massages the soft flesh, chuckling softly whenever he hears you keen and choke out a breath into his neck. his fingers find your nipples quickly, and heat flares under your cheeks and inside your gut when he pinches at them gently, your body reacting faster to his touch than your mind can.

you grind down onto his lap, feeling his hard bulge in between your thighs. you need more, need something inside you.

he grits his teeth when he feels you trying to hump his clothed cock. “careful, sweetheart. i’m trying to take my time with you.”

his hands move to your back, fully undoing your bra and letting it drop forgotten to the floor. you don’t care. you want him all over your body. you want his calloused hands all over your tits, pinching and teasing your nipples, filling out his hands with your breasts, like your body was made to match his.

“i know-,” you sound shaky. you are shaky, barely holding yourself together. you clench your eyes shut as he plays with your tits again. pleasure surges downwards every time he plays with your sensitive nipples, rubbing his fingertips into them or just letting the skin-to-skin contact get to your head. “i just- i can’t- i can’t control myself anymore, shoyo-”

“i got you, i got you,” he laughs. if only you could know his own madness, the insanity that runs rampant in his mind knowing that he can have you in any way he wants. “shit, and i thought i’d take it slow. be a good gentleman for you. clearly that isn’t making the cut.”

you let out a small shriek as he lifts you from his lap, and the next thing you know, you’re slumped over his desk. your bare chest is against the cold wood of his workspace, and he hovers above your back, your ass against his crotch. you whimper into his desk, and your breath fogs up against the polished wood.

your cunt clenches painfully around nothing as he grinds his hips into your ass, his erection rubbing all over your thighs and butt. your saliva pools inside your mouth when you hear him groan and buck his hips into you, mimicking the motions of penetrative sex as he drinks up the friction. his hands hold firmly at your hips and waist, anchoring himself to your body.

he doesn’t need to do much. if you can already feel him this prominently, just how big was his dick?

“i-i can feel so much of you already.” you glance back at him. the thrums of arousal inside you are almost unbearable. you don’t feel like yourself, only like a husk of person fiending for release.

“yeah?” his grip on you tightens slightly, and he peers down at you. “fuck- have you had sex before? is this your first time?”

“no, it isn’t- i’ve had sex before- with a few guys on campus and mostly with my ex…,” you trail off, not wanting to think about it any further. “it doesn’t matter. it doesn’t count.”

he chuckles, shaking his head at your small joke. “can you feel how hard i am? how big i am?”

“yes,” you exhale. you want him inside you. you want him to take your pants off already and stick his cock inside your cunt. you want him to make a mess out of your insides, to take the weeks of pent up lust and to let it loose. you want your pussy to be ravaged by him, for him to not stop until you’re a wreck underneath him. “so big… i want it so bad…”

“am i bigger than your ex?” it’s a question posed dangerously, a blade wrapped in cloth. you dip your face down so that your forehead touches the wood. you nod shakily, glad that you have his desk to hold onto for support so that your knees don’t give out.

he smirks. the ends of his mouth curl upwards into a cruel smile. it’s the satisfaction of a predator right as it’s about to sink its teeth into its prey, relishing the sadistic thrill of knowing that his influence, that his power remains on top.

“forget everything about that boy,” he spits the last word, as if it’s something bitter. “you feel me? feel this cock? yeah, i know you do. this is how big a real man’s cock is.”

you might as well have had the wind knocked out of you. his hands make their way to your pants, and you move with him, letting them fall by your ankles. your panties follow suit, and you’re left shivering with anticipation against his desk, fully naked. nothing can protect you from his wandering eyes now, and while you can’t see him, you can feel his gaze boring into your exposed cunt.

you can feel how wet you are, your imagination doing the most in making you feel like you were going to overheat while making out with him. your slick drips out of your hole, and your cunt weeps, begging for something to fill you up and get rid of that incessant ache in your belly.

“turn over,” he commands you. any sense of the warm professor you used to shirk around is gone, replaced by an intensity entirely foreign to you. you comply, and you gasp when shoyo sinks down to his knees. his hands are on your knees, and he pries your legs apart to slot himself. you’re fully laying on his desk at this point, and his face is mere inches away from your hole.

“i-...” you don’t know what to say. you feel like you’re going to choke on your own breath, embarrassment at having a man so close to your pussy threatening to consume you whole.

shoyo, on the other hand, is utterly entranced. the sight of your bare cunt has him bewitched. his cock throbs painfully inside of his pants. the little tease he got from you trying to grind down on him and then rubbing himself against your ass has done nothing but wet his appetite, and he knows how much he’s been waiting painstakingly for this moment.

your voice dies out in the back of your throat when he grabs your thighs, and before you know it, his mouth is on your cunt. he kisses your pussy, and you nearly buck your hips into his mouth. his tongue laps in between your lower lips sensually, coating his mouth in as much of your juices as he can. his grip on you is firm, making sure that you can’t wiggle away from him. he wants you to feel every single second of him eating you out, make sure you feel his tongue against every part of your hole.

his tongue captures your clit, swirling slowly around the sensitive bud. you clench your eyes shut, and the first shockwaves of pleasure shoot straight to your brain. “ah- shoyo- fuck-!”

he keeps kissing and sucking at your clit, determined to shower you with so much attention. he takes his time. he flicks the tip of his tongue against the bud, leaving you recoiling against the cool material of his desk, and he presses the broad of his tongue against it, letting you grind down how you want into his mouth. he mimics your movements, and you’re left gasping and mewling when he moves down. teasing your clit turns into broad licks up your slit, and your thighs shake and threaten to close around his head if it weren’t for his firm grip on you.

his tongue circles your hole, and he smirks into you when he can feel you quiver and clench around him. he’s snaking himself all over your cunt, lavishing each part of your pussy with a good dosage of love and spit. every time he drags his tongue against your slit, threatening to slip into your hole but not quite, you’re left reeling in the aftermath. you need something inside you, anything. you’re so horrendously turned on, and as much as the clitoral stimulation has you seeing stars, you need more.

“shoyo…” god, he loves it when you moan out his name. he just can’t get enough of the way the syllables roll off of your tongue, and you choke out his name, elongated the sound and clinging to his name as if he’s the only thing you’ve ever known.

your pussy continues to drool for him, and he’s smacking his lips, drinking up every drop of your juices as if he can’t get enough. it’s a perfect reminder of how much he wants you. he thinks you’re perfect, a gift sent down from whatever divinity might be out there, hand-crafted to take his love and to love him in return. you taste heavenly on his tongue, your slick coating his mouth thickly. with each swallow, it’s like you’re becoming a part of him, and it makes him dizzy.

you tremble under his touch. he keeps capturing your clit the way you like it best. he teases you, lets you feel pleasure. the pleasured hums of his voice vibrate against your clit, constantly stimulated by his tongue and lips. the throngs of arousal inside your gut keep mounting, growing, twisting and coiling it on itself, keeling to be freed, to be let loose so you can cum all over his mouth as if you’ve lost all control of your body.

“feels good-,” your breathing shakes as you reach down, grabbing a fistful of his bright orange hair. the man moans in such a depraved manner against you, and you clench painfully, your pussy feeling as if it’s contorting into a way physically impossible from how sheerly aroused you are. “make me cum, please! ‘m so close- wanna cum- wanna cum in your mouth, shoyo…! you’re making me feel so good!”

“yeah?” he detaches himself momentarily. he licks his lips and swallows, chest heaving at your sweet taste overwhelming all of his senses. his brain is screaming for him to fuck you, but he doesn’t want to. he wants to see you feel good from just his mouth first, to coax one orgasm out of you so that your nerves are properly awakened. that would make fucking your pussy out on his cock so much more worthwhile. “am i making you feel good, pretty girl? enough to beg for it?”

you nod feverishly, even though you should know that he can’t see you. your drenched pussy speaks enough for itself. he’s too good at this, the experience under his belt shining through. there’s no stupid boy your age that would even think of doing you a courtesy like eating you out until you’re shaking, and here’s shoyo, eagerly lapping at your cunt without you even needing to ask.

“cumming- gonna cum- please, please, fuck…! your tongue feels so good- love it so much when you lick at me like that…,” you whimper. your back arches against the desk, and your body twitches, wanting to ride his tongue and make a mess all over his mouth. shoyo doesn’t stop his relentless movements, and he continues to suck at your clit.

arousal curls and unfurls like a pulse deep inside your stomach. you’re teetering on the edge, and you feel like you’re going crazy. your mind is turning into jelly, your wildest fantasies about your professor coming true right before your eyes, and your pussy can’t take everything happening to you. you shut your eyes again, gritting your teeth and bracing yourself for the orgasm that you’re sure is going to slam into you like a brick wall.

his tongue slithers expertly against your drenched cunt, and he presses a sticky kiss to your clit. your stomach curls inward at the intimate touch, with him pleasuring you as if it's his given duty as your lover, and that’s all it takes.

“shoyo!” you cry out, your thighs nearly wrenching themselves out of his hands. “i’m cumming- fuck! fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck-...! fuck me, fuck me, please! ah- i’m cumming…!”

he keeps on pressing his mouth all over your pussy as you cum on his mouth. red hot pleasure floods your entire body, sweeping you away from head to toe, and your thighs quiver like mad. your body feels so hot, so overwhelmed by a pleasure you’ve never had before, and your vision spins. you can’t think, not when every inch of your body has been tossed into overdrive so effortlessly by him, and your inner walls twist achingly.

you wish it was his cock you were cumming on. you’re breathless and succumbing to how good it feels to have your hole ravished by his mouth, and he eats you out through your orgasm. he’s determined to swallow up every drop of your slick, and it’s not until you’re whimpering again and pushing his forehead back weakly that he detaches himself from between your legs.

“shit, you taste so fucking sweet,” shoyo groans. he sounds almost disappointed that you pushed him off of you, your slit tingling and desperate for something bigger. the lower half of his face is shiny with your juices and spit mingling together, and he licks his lips, making sure not to let a single drop escape him. “fuck- i could eat you out all day if you’d let me. pretty girl’s got a pretty pussy too.”

your hole flutters in excitement at his praise. heat and embarrassment at the sudden intimacy flickers underneath your face, and your head is still buzzing, not fully done with your sexual high. your chest rises and falls as you rest on his desk, splayed out for him to admire as he gets up from his knees and undoes pants. you can hear the shuffling of fabric and metal as he takes off his belt and pants. your mouth goes dry as you think about his cock and how big it felt when the two of you were grinding and humping each other for a split second, and now you’re finally getting him to fuck you on it.

he lets out a low, throaty moan as he takes the last of his clothing off, and his cock is nice and hard, drops of pearly pre-cum dripping from his tip. he’s aroused that it hurts, but there’s something about seeing you still recoiling from your orgasm, the rush of pride he gets knowing that he got you off using just his mouth, makes the pain of waiting a bit longer to fuck you so much more worth it.

“how are you feeling? you doing okay?” he asks you. he grabs his cock, stroking himself a few times from base to tip, his thumb sliding over his sensitive slit to spread his pre-cum all over himself. you nod wordlessly, starting to come back down to your plane of reality as you let him slide himself in between your legs again.

you freeze when you feel his cock against your slit, and he rubs himself up and down in between your lower lips. the dull pangs of arousal are bubbling up in your gut once more, and your slick is mixing with his pre-cum to coat his cock in a makeshift kind of lube.

“d-do you have any condoms…?” you eke out. it’s his bare dick against your body right now, and as intoxicating as the thought of taking him raw and letting him stuff every inch of your womb with his cum is, you still have to think straight.

he grabs at your hips, bringing himself flush against your body. a moan catches in the back of your throat when his tip grazes against your sensitive clit, and he chuckles to himself when he sees you twitch. “not at the moment. i’ll take care of you. can you trust me?”

there’s a lump in your throat, and some deeply dead part of you sobs out that you should be responsible. but you don’t care, not when you’re this close to finally having him inside you, not when he promises to take responsibility for you. you move your head, unable to fully meet his eyes, and you nod your head yes.

“good girl,” he laughs sweetly. “you ready for me?”

“yes! please, i want you inside me… want you to fuck me…,” you whine, your head lolling onto the desk underneath you. your pussy clenches at the thought of his raw bare cock rubbing against your insides, your walls clinging to every inch of his thick cock, and you’re so, so ready to take him.

he grips the base of his cock, and he lines himself up. he watches, enraptured, as your hole pulses around his cockhead. you groan needily as he fucks his tip in and out of you, just to watch your pussy cling to him, wanting to pull him in fully. you’re just about to whine and complain when he finally pushes himself in, and your breathing dies out in your chest as your walls stretches out to adjust to him being inside you.

“...fuck-! ah- you’re so big-,” your voice immediately starts slurring as he pushes past the resistance. it burns yet it feels deathly euphoric to have something stretching you out like that, to feel every bit of your pussy being invaded and stuffed out onto shoyo’s girthy cock. you’re coaxing him in effortlessly, and his fingers curl into the flesh of your waist and hips as he tries to ground himself.

he sucks in a harsh inhale through his gritted teeth, his eyebrows furrowing. you’re so tight and wet and downright heavenly wrapped around his length. he can’t stop looking between your legs, right where the two of you are joined together for the first time, but you’re squeezing and fluttering around him just right even though all he did was put it in. it’s taking all of his concentration not to waver and lose himself in the feeling.

jerking off desperately by himself doesn’t even come close to how good your pussy feels. he could stay like this forever, feeling your velvety walls pulse around him, wanting to pull his cock in even further until he swears his tip is kissing the entrance to your womb. he takes in a deep breath, and he does his best to clear his head so he can start fucking you properly.

“you’re so fucking tight… shit, did you want my cock that badly?” he manages out shakily. “fuck, it’s like your pussy’s milking me already, sweetheart.”

“mhm… it’s so, so big…,” you murmur, dazed. “never- never had cock like this before- you’re filling me up… feels like you’re in my stomach.”

“yeah? does it feel good?” he’s waiting for you to give him the all clear. your face is scrunched up, and as desperate as he is to start fucking into you like an animal, he knows better than to be a ruffian. your pleasure always comes first. that’s what real men do.

you nod weakly for what feels like the millionth time. your nerves are on fire, your previous orgasm only accentuating how much you can feel him pressed against you. his cock rubs just right against your sensitive walls, and you can’t imagine what actually having him thrusting into you is going to do to your body. “yes- so good- i’m gonna lose my mind, shoyo…”

“good answer.” he reaches over to move a strand of your hair away from your face. “i’m gonna start moving, okay? if something hurts or doesn’t feel right, you tell me right away. i’m here to make you feel good, and nothing else.”

your heart skips a beat. in a sea of fuckboys and idiot college boys that couldn’t care less about your well-being, someone like him feels less like a real person and more like a character straight from a fairy tale. “okay- you can fuck me- i want you to fuck me.”

he draws his hips back and thrusts slowly into you. you gasp, acutely aware of the sensation deep inside of you. your pussy revels at how he rubs against you, gripping onto his cock for dear life as he fucks his length in and out of you. it’s such a painfully slow pace, but you savor the feeling, savor the new stimulus of having your professor’s cock buried deep inside you. you want to commit to memory, because it’s unlike anything you’ve ever had before.

heat flares back up inside your belly again, settling and slithering in repeated coils between your hips. your vision blurs once more, and arousal creeps back into your mind, threatening to overtake every single one of your conscious thoughts. “faster, shoyo- wanna feel more of you- you’re torturing me…!”

“sorry- i can’t help it,” he laughs bitterly, his voice hushed and under his breath. “can you blame me for being obsessed with you? fuck- you’re so tight, hugging me like this… it’s like you were made to take me.”

your stomach curls in on itself at the sweet praise. you hate how easily he toys with your heart, how easily he can make you swoon and fall for him all over again, leaving you dancing and squirming right underneath the palm of his hand. literally. you swallow deeply, and it feels like there’s no inch of your body that the unbearable heat hasn’t spread to.

“faster, please- i need you so bad!” you sob, nearing your limit. cumming from his tongue was only an appetizer, and you’re hungry for more. you’ve starved yourself long enough, and his slow pace isn’t doing any favors for you. you roll your head left and right on his desk, unable to control yourself.

“you want it? prove it to me.” his voice drops a few notes, and your cunt unconsciously clenches at how dark his words sound. it’s yet another potent reminder of the man buried inside of you right now, a real man who’s determined to make you his, prince and criminal, craved and craving, dreamy and filthy all at once. “look me in the eye then. look me dead on as i fuck you.”

you let out a loud moan. his words are fucking dirty, and when he rolls his hips into you, drinking up the excruciatingly addictive way your pussy clings to his dick, you think your body is actually going to give out on you. it’s not like he’s asking for you to do anything obscene or impossible, but there’s something so disgustingly erotic and intimate about him asking you to look him straight in his face—in his eyes—as he makes love to you.

the desk is warm underneath your body, all warmed up thanks to your body heat. it’s become your subconscious refuge, taking all of your thrashing as he had his way with you, and you don’t want to think about the sure mess you’re bound to leave in your wake. your breathing trembles as you forcibly turn your face towards his, ripping your wavering gaze away from the safety of whatever else you were staring at.

your eyes meet his, and he smiles at you adoringly. there’s no more running away from him, nowhere to escape to, your eyes locked together and dancing in his pupils. you’re rendered breathless again at the vibrant color, like your own life is being squeezed from between your lips. you can’t move, and your chest feels like it’s about to cave in on itself, your ribs giving out and your heart melting into a puddle of useless muscle and putty. but this time, strangely enough, you welcome the helpless feeling. he’s got you wrapped around his pinky finger, and you finally realize that you never stood a chance.

that very first day, in that fatefully empty classroom, when you first met eyes with him, you were a fucking goner. you always were. always had been. and it was all his fault, all professor hinata’s fault.

all hinata shoyo’s fault.

“good girl.” he looks at you in a way only a lover would. his eyes soften around the edges and crinkles up as he grins. “don’t ever look away from me.”

“i won’t,” you promise. it’s the last thing you could dream of doing. not when you want it so badly, and not when he’s asking you verbatim. how could you deny him of the very thing he’s asking you to do? especially when it’s something that you’ve always been mustering up the courage to do? this is your big leap forward, your chance to prove to yourself that you can change.

he leans forward, and he lets you wrap your arms around his neck. you refuse to drop your gaze from his face, admiring every small detail of his features and letting yourself drown fully in the wide expanses of his eyes. he presses one last romantic kiss to your mouth, and that’s the last warning you get, the last bit of sweetness and gentleness you get.

he draws his hips back, and he slams himself back into you roughly. you choke out a small moan, pleasure flooding your head. he doesn’t give you any time to recover from the recoil before he’s thrusting wildly back into you again. your hole is already slick and dripping wet from his teasing and your previous climax, and it makes it all the more easy for him to slide his length in and out of you, pace picking up speed and leaving you crying out as your surprise quickly morphs into electric pleasure.

“shit- so fucking tight- god, you’re going to kill me,” he grunts. you mewl and moan incoherently, clinging to him for dear life as he fucks into you over and over again. his tip prods against your deepest parts, and surges of pleasure climb all over your nerves. his hips slam against yours, and his balls slap against the curve of your ass. lewd, wet lovemaking noises echo throughout the small office, and it echoes even louder against your ears.

it feels good, it feels so good. you never knew pleasure like this was possible, that it even existed. you thought you knew everything there was to sex already, but clearly not, if shoyo has you practically melting in his arms, your limbs numb and surrendering wholly to how good he’s making you feel. your walls keep fluttering around him, and every thrust has you crying out.

“fuck- you feel so good- shoyo- shoyo, i’m losing my mind…!” you gasp. your nails dig into his back, and you claw at him like a feral cat. your thighs quiver around his hips, but he doesn’t let up his brutal pace. with each roll of his hips, it feels like he’s knocking the wind out of you. he’s determined to fuck you stupid, and it’s working. your grip on reality is slipping fast, with the throbbing pleasure in your head taking precedence over everything.

“go crazy for me then. you feel me inside you, don’t you? good. then you can feel firsthand how fucking crazy you make me.” he grabs your hips, and he angles them ever-so-slightly before ramming into you. you grit your teeth as a tense cry escapes from you.

the new angle has you seeing stars. you’re scratching at his back, your insides lurching and reeling and being stirred up like wild. “you’re so deep… so deep inside me! nnmgh…! you’re gonna make me cum so fast- make me cum again-“

“shit, already? am i fucking you that good?” his stomach is doing flips. you’re a sight for sore eyes, refusing to look away from him as if your life depended on it. his abs strain against him as he enjoys the experience of having sex with you, sex with the student that’s been dancing around him forever. you’re splayed out like a piece of art underneath him: all sweaty, breasts bouncing, legs spread with your soft cunt eagerly taking every inch of him.

your foreheads are basically touching when you nod your head. “yes! no one’s ever made me feel this good before- never had cock like yours-“

he almost laughs. oh, he’s bet you’ve never had anyone like him. what would your ex, your past flings know about pleasing women? all he wanted was to make you go crazy like this. he wants to sink you deep into pleasure, and he wants to make it so that you don’t ever think about other men after he’s done with you. he wants you in your entirety. he can’t do halfway.

“i told you already,” he purrs. his words drip off of his tongue like sticky syrup. “it’s because you’re having sex with a man this time. not with a boy. a real, grown man. someone that can take care of you. someone that can treat you right.”

it’s hard to think. he speeds up, leaving you fighting to keep your eyes open. the intense look in shoyo’s eyes are nothing like your own fucked out look, but at the same time, you’re sure the intoxicated gleam in his is the same as yours. is it love or desire that connects you two?

“most importantly…” his fingers dig into your flesh, securing your hips in place and leaving you at his mercy. you can feel your juices leaking out, coating your ass and making wet sounds whenever his hips smash into yours. he cranes his head, and his lips are almost on top of yours, threatening to close the gap and brush his lips across yours. “someone that can actually fuck you.”

oh fuck. you don’t stand a fucking chance against him. all of the sensations are rapidly racking up in your body, and with how deep he’s thrusting into you, you can barely hold onto yourself. you’re gonna cum soon again, you just know it. you feel the tightness inside your belly, and with how effectively he’s seducing you, whispering all kinds of lewd things and making sure that you keep your eyes locked on him while fucking you, you have nowhere to run away.

“i can’t take it- so rough- can’t take much more-,” you whimper. your mind is going blank, and all that you can think of is him. his body feels heavy and good on top of you, and having you scratch his back out of pleasure only spurs him on. he can feel you slipping and losing control of yourself, and he rocks you close to himself. he wonders if you can feel his heartbeat hammering in his chest, huffing short breaths as he keeps up his steady yet brutal pace.

he looks at you, and a smirk dangles off of his face. “yes, you can. you can take it. i know you can. you’ll be good for me, won’t you? let me make you feel good.”

your breathing hitches. it’s taking all of your mental strength not to topple over the edge right now. everything’s rushing too fast to your head right now, and all of your nerves are standing on edge, enthusiastically lapping up the pure euphoria coursing through your veins. but you want to make shoyo happy, you want to cum together with him, and as much as he said this lovemaking session was about you, you want to be able to match the pace he set.

“for you- just for you-,” you struggle to get the words out, the final syllables slurring together into a slight babble. so much for your usually well-put together, prudent academic facade. any trace of the well-trained, well-behaved student is long gone, replaced by a dirty, senseless, corrupted, and lascivious soul that lives and dies for shoyo’s love. “wanna be good- wanna be good only for you…”

“good. you’re mine. all mine,” he murmurs. the pleasure is sharp and dull all at once, all consuming and delicate, sinking you down into the murky waves inside the recesses of your mind only to drag you back to the surface, leaving you shuddering and grasping as if you had been drowned for real. shoyo likes it. he adores the reactions he gets out of you.

this is a kind of pleasure only he can give you. you’ve never had this with anyone else before, and he’ll make it so that you can’t find it from anyone else, not unless it’s with him. these faces you’re making, twisting in ecstasy and crying out with a voice like a songbird, are for him to enjoy only. they’re exclusive to him, only meant for his eyes, and he consumes it, fiending for more.

“shoyo- can’t- ‘t’s too good- i’m going crazy…!” you strain to breathe, your chest feeling inhumanly tight. parts of your brain light up like wired lights, blooming and flickering. you’re terribly close, and you know this one is going to take you whole and blow out any sense of being in your body. “shoyo- shoyo…”

“fucking christ- if you moan my name like that… you’ll make me want to do horrible things to you. so much more fucking worse than what i’m doing to you right now, sweetheart. this is just the start right here.” something pricks at your hips, and he digs his nails into your hips. he never thought himself to be such a possessive man, but he can’t deny the insanity that’s taken root in his brain for weeks now. it does something to him, to have his dick inside of you but to also hear you calling for him. him, him specifically, his name, emerging from your mouth as if he’s someone you revere. maybe at one point you did, but his yearning to have you turned him into something monstrous and all too human.

but perhaps that same madness overtook you and that was what brought the two of you together. shoyo finds it funny: the idea of something as sacred as love growing from something so depraved. and yet he’s fascinated by it, fascinated by the possibility that you’re no better than him, that your respect for him may just as easily be swapped for a kind of convenience to quell your own heart.

he doesn’t know what it all means. now isn’t the time for him to get philosophical. he’s balls-deep inside the pretty student he’s been pining over, and he’s so close to getting you to cum. wouldn’t that be a better reward than anything else he’s carefully built up? years of self preservation and swallowing down his personal desires for what’s “best” for his future be damned, he wants you. he wants you, he wants, he wants you.

you wonder if this is the end of your rope. you’re so close, so near the edge, and you’re clenching so desperately around his cock. you’re eclipsed entirely by the sight of your frightened and frantic reflection in his wide eyes, and you barely recognize yourself. so this is what you look like when you’re being mercilessly railed by your hot professor. your mouth is agape as you moan out for the male on top of you, face flushed and sweat beading your forehead like some kind of crown.

“gonna cum- gonna cum! shoyo- just a bit more-” your tongue feels heavy in your mouth. your body isn’t yours at this point, having given up in exchange for the fire that burns your core, the snakes inside your belly hissing and twisting and pulsing. “i’m cumming- gonna cum- i can’t hold back anymore-!!”

“go ahead,” he whispers. his mouth itches to kiss you, to swallow up your wounded gasps. he wants to feel your body go slack again like he had done once before, to push you into that wonderful place where nothing and everything was real at once. he’s sure your body’s overrun with complex sensations and pure euphoria, and he loves watching you turn into a shell of yourself. “cum on my cock, pretty girl. you’ll be mine, won’t you?”

you barely nod your head, and shoyo’s drawing his hips back and snapping them back into you at a particularly rough angle. you tense up underneath him, back arching and limbs going stiff. your eyes widen, gaze still connected with him, and your body fully gives out.

“sh- shoyo…!” your voice is shrill as you sob out one final moan, and your orgasm grips the entirety of your body. it feels good, it aches, it throbs, and it demands so much of you. your velvety walls clamp down on his thick cock like a vice, milking him and clinging to him, and your climax refuses to give shoyo a chance to breathe. he digs his ankles into the ground and keeps thrusting wildly into you, wanting to keep the flare swallowing you up going for a bit longer. he grits his teeth as you squirm underneath him, and you can barely keep your eyes open. you want to clench them shut and throw your head back so bad, but whatever little control you have remaining on your conscious keeps them open, just for him.

you’re fighting against the currents swirling and whirlpooling inside your brain. whatever heat was bottled up inside your body rushes out, and you’re cumming all over shoyo’s girth. he’s keeping you stretched out, and your stomach feels like it’s going to cave in on itself. it’s nothing but pure bliss, the kind that makes you feel as if you’re floating, and you’re rendered breathless, each inhale precious and fleeting and almost incognizant. your vision swims, and tears settle on your waterline, just threatening to topple over. your field of sight is blurry, and yet even amongst all of the chaos, you can make out the dapples of brown in shoyo’s eyes, forever in tandem with him as if he were a planet in orbit around your sun.

you’re gasping for air, finally having gotten the release you had been chasing for what felt like an eternity. shoyo breathes heavily and raggedly, as if he had run a marathon, and he’s barely holding on himself. your insides are fucking massaging him, stroking his cock all over, squeezing and hugging and rubbing all up against his sensitive length.

“shit- fuck-,” he chokes out. fuck- he didn’t expect that seeing you cum would take so much out of him. his mind is teetering, and his muscles strain against him, his abs prominent. you’re refusing to let go of him, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can genuinely hold on for. he should be responsible, at least try to pick up the pieces of the mess that you two made, and pull out, cum into a napkin or a trash can or his hand or literally anywhere inside of your sweet cunt, but whatever resolve inside his chest whimpers as if he’s killing it when the thought brushes against his mind.

he wants to cum inside you. he has to. he needs to go that extra step, cement himself physically into you, promise to take care of you again and again for whatever happens next. he’s a real lover, someone who’ll take all of your brokenness and insecurity and fear and make them dissolve and melt away as if it were sugar. he’s sure they’d be equally as sweet to, so long as it came from you.

“god- fuck- take me- i’ll take care of you- take care of anything that happens next- fuck- just… just stay with me-,” he breathes out, body shaking. a cry catches in the back of your throat when he fucks himself in as deep as he can go, his cockhead pressing right up against your cervix. he buries himself into you, and he leans forward, capturing your lips in one last deep kiss, tongue swirling in your mouth and filling up your senses entirely with him.

your moans are muffled by him when you feel him cum deep inside you. something hot and heavy floods your cunt, pumping into you in generous spurts. it’s warm, and his cock takes on a second pulse inside of you, like a heartbeat as semen trickles into your womb and all through your cunt. your body feels hot, every inch of your pussy drenched and coated with shoyo’s cum. a few stray drops escape from you, but with him pressing his body flush against you and his cock still stuffed inside your cunt, most of the cum remains plugged inside you as he gasps for air, his high overtaking him.

“fuck… fu-uck,” his voice is gruff and airy. “god- you keep fucking milking me- shit, i came inside too- oh god…”

he nearly collapses on top of you, and his chest is on yours. the two of you lay there, breathing deeply and just enjoying the post-sex warmth of each others’ bodies. you’re still buzzing slightly, your head heavy as if you had just woken up from a long nap, but regular feeling is starting to seep back into your limbs. your body is pulling itself out from the haze, and while exhausted and quite literally fucked out of your mind, you’re regaining control over yourself as the minutes pass.

you admire shoyo’s form, the beautiful curves of muscle all over his back and shoulders, the lines on his face that could come only with age. it’s too early for you to worry, too early to really know the true consequences of your actions, and yet, there’s something bittersweet at the tip of your tongue when you look down adoringly at shoyo. morally, you know that this can’t continue. the best course of action you could have taken was to not fuck him, but now that you’ve gone and crossed that bridge, the next best thing you can do is to nip this in the bud and to avoid making a habit of this.

but you already know that you’re not strong enough to do that. you can’t go back, not when you’ve had a taste of everything you’ve already wanted.

you wrap your arms around shoyo a bit tighter, and you hold him closer to your heart. he buries his head into the crook of your neck, the shaky eye contact that you had kept up with him now broken. he inhales deeply and takes in your scent, and you wordlessly both celebrate and mourn everything that had built up and broken in between you and the man you had pined after for so long.

“...i’ll go buy some plan b for you.” he’s the first to break the silence. “there are some napkins in my office that i can clean you up with. you stay put. i… i lost control of myself there, and i don’t want you to strain yourself. do you think you can eat and drink a bit?”

your mind is nowhere near as clear as you’d want it to be, but you rasp out quietly, “yeah. i’m okay.”

“do you have any classes after this? fuck- i lost track of time too. i can write you a note and email whatever professor you have after me. i’m sorry- i really shouldn’t have gotten that carried away.” shoyo peels himself off of your body, and a whimper of protest dies out in your mouth.

“i don’t have any classes. i’m basically free for the rest of the day, so you don’t need to worry about it. i- uh- i appreciate it though…” your arms feel cold and empty without him, and he maneuvers himself to grab a wad of napkins to position underneath your ass to catch the cum dripping out of you as he drags his now soft cock out.

you simultaneously feel empty and full all at once. his cum still undoubtedly lingers inside you, but without him physically in you, you feel as if something big has been sucked out of your soul. your stream of consciousness meanders to the idea of soulmates, and if this is what it must feel like.

you don’t know how to breach any further though. he’s immediately flipped his professional switch back on, cleaning both of you up without any further words, and you don’t think it’s proper though to keep demanding more from him. in his eyes, this might be nothing more than a bad lapse in judgment and not something he wants to keep pursuing in the same way you want to.

a lump forms in your throat at the thought, and your heart shakes. your heart physically hurts. it aches and throbs as if it were torn apart, the stringy sinews and muscles begging for at least a bone to be thrown your way.

you hang your head, swallowing your despair back down the best you can. it’s not your place. it’s not your place.

he hands you an unopened water bottle, and you mutter a solemn word of thanks before cracking the lid and gulping a few mouthfuls down. he’s bent over and collecting all of your clothes, mixed together with him, and despite still being naked in front of him, you don’t feel any shame at all. this whole charade shouldn’t have felt as good and guiltless as it does, and you don’t want this to leave on the melancholy note that it is.

but as shoyo slips his sweater back on over his head and adjusts his hair, it’s hard not to mistake his professionalism for distance. you’re aware that you aren’t proper lovers, no boyfriend-girlfriend relationship, but what kind of sane human doesn’t yearn for a sense of connection and reassurance after something so intimate? all you want is to cuddle with him for a few minutes longer, have him smile sheepishly up at you as he peppers kisses onto your face, his big calloused hands holding you firmly.

you set the water bottle down. reality is never as clear cut nor as easy as fantasy is, and at this point, that should be a revelation you’ve carved into your heart by now. you steel your resolve the best you can, the one thing you’ve learned better than any other lesson your painful years of adulthood have taught you, and you reach for your own clothes.

you look messy with your clothes haphazardly thrown on and trepidation clinging like a fog to your psyche, and you’re ready to basically skitter out of his office as you always do and keep your head down until the semester ends. then you’ll be out of his hair and hopefully this would be nothing more than another minor heartbreak for you to get past.

“where are you going? if you don’t mind staying put for a little bit longer, i’ll go fetch the plan b.” a hand lands on your shoulder as you prepare to leave, and you stop dead in your tracks. you look over, and shoyo looks down at you as if he’s confused.

you hold your breath. you know better than to hope, and yet the flash of emotion that flies across your chest is undeniable. “you… don’t want me to go?”

his face immediately morphs into a deep frown, and his brows furrow. he looks horrified, as if you had picked out the worst words for the situation and spat them at his feet. “no! of course not. who do you think i am? why would i kick you out right after having sex? after harping on for so long about treating you right? gosh, you think so lowly of me. i was only cleaning up! here, there should be some snacks i keep stashed away in the second drawer over there. i’ll be zippity quick with the plan b run, i promise. get something in your tummy in the meantime, and then we can chat.”

chat? the word dangles above you like a loaded bullet. not everything is some kind of fucked up mental game, but it stuns you how he constantly manages to stay a step ahead you in everything.

you want to ask about what. about the future state of your relationship? about how both of your lives are going to undoubtedly be marked in a different way now because of this? about how the rest of the semester is going to go? about how you might never be able to muster the courage to show your face to society again, depending on how the conversation proceeds? there’s a whole slew of questions waiting to be asked, but when he beams at you, his smile more boyish and endearing than anything else, it’s like he simply melts away all of your anxieties.

it’s downright unfair, the sheer effect he has on you. but you don’t want it to stop, ever. you want him to continue confusing you and amazing you, leaving you questioning yourself and all of your worldviews. you don’t understand him, not one bit, and yet it feels like you know too much, used too much of your wiles to force him into showing his hand and leave both of you at some kind of stalemate.

“what comes after that then?” that’s all you manage to blurt out amidst all of your fluctuating emotions. you don’t want him to leave, don’t want the beautiful man to slip away from your fingers after you only just got to keep him, no matter how short or necessary it might be. you’re not thinking straight, but what part of any of this came from logical thinking anyway? good behavior only got you so far, and good behavior isn’t going to keep him.

he grins, a smile that could rival sunshine even through your internalized storm. “that’s easy. you said you were free, yeah? i drop you off at home for a little bit so you can properly get cleaned up and get a fresh change of clothes. then i pick you up again, surprise you with a big bouquet of roses, and i buy you a nice dinner. dessert and drinks included. then i drop you back off home, and if you’re down for it, we do that a few times. then, y’know… i ask you out properly on our third or fourth date.”

your heart flutters in your chest. your heart has always been a caged bird, the last part of yourself you could never fully tame. stuffing it in a constricted box and ignoring it has gotten you only so far, and shoyo presses the key to the cage into your hand and coaxes you into unlocking and opening up the impenetrable door. your eyes widen slightly. it’s too early to get your hopes up again, but at the same time, when he’s stating his interest and desire to make something serious out of this, to actually take you on as a proper girlfriend and not as a one time fling, to go the whole nine yards and make it the romantic experience you’ve always wanted deep deep down, you think it’s only fair that you let yourself have this.

after years and years of repression, you’re getting your first reprieve. the first sign of spring after what felt like an unending winter, the long awaited gulp of water after wallowing in the murky depths, the fabled light at the end of the tunnel, a reminder that everything truly isn’t as hopeless as your twisted mind likes to make it, that you’re just as deserving of goodness and love and rightfulness as much as those around you, no matter how vehemently you once denied it against the very wishes of your heart. you’re done stifling your own desires, and while it won’t be something you fix overnight, you’re sure it’s shoyo that drew out those first steps.

“i don’t like ruining the surprise like this, but… i’m sure you don’t mind. still, do me a favor and act surprised when i do bring you flowers and take you out on a dinner date, okay?” he winks at you, laughing to himself. he looks so happy with himself, truly giddy like a boy waiting to ask his crush out. you don’t know how he can go in between being the cool professor you fell for and the man that charmed you so effortlessly, but you aren’t complaining. you want to acquaint yourself with every side there is to shoyo and to fall deeply in love with each and every part of him you discover.

you smile back softly in return. you play the innocent card, and you tilt your head slightly in a show of fake confusion. “don’t worry. date? what date? aren’t you running out to get me just plan b?”

“atta girl. you always catch on quickly. it’s that smart mind of yours,” he laughs again, louder this time. his voice reminds you of bells ringing in the morning sun. each syllable feels like he’s thawing you out, and it’s something to be venerated with every part of your soul. he approaches you to steal a kiss from your lips, and the touch is so sweet and gone too quickly. you want another, but you know he’ll be back soon and you’ll have as many kisses as you’d like, as many as he’d let you have.

he cups your face with one hand, and his thumb rubs over the apple of your cheek. it’s such a gentle touch, and yet it makes you feel weak in the knees, like your body feels a sense of magnetic attraction to him that makes you want him to hold you and nothing else. he leans down ever so slightly, enough so that he can look at you directly in your eyes again.

you don’t think you’ll ever get used to the way he leaves you breathless when he gazes at you, the intense look always leaving you stunned and glued in your place, the same split second that proved to be the first taste of the forbidden fruit. something bristles and hangs in the air, like electricity, and this time, you recognize it to be the anticipation of getting something you’ve wanted, like an excitement gripping at your throat, and the happiness of your heart beating not just for you but for someone else, for the very first time.

shoyo grins at you, at you alone. his eyes twinkle fondly.

“i love you,” he whispers without any trace of doubt in his voice.

your lips move, “i love you too, shoyo.”

you don’t blink. you won’t blink so long as he’s looking at you.

and you swear to never look away from those beautiful, beautiful eyes.

author's note: i owe @thomae a million thank yous for letting me write her idea! thank you thank you thank you so much for letting me bounce all of my ideas off of you and bothering you incessantly about this fic!! it ended up getting a lot longer than i originally intended (×﹏×) but regardless, i hope everyone enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!! (´ ε ` )♡ please stay safe in the new year, and if you enjoyed my writing, you can show your appreciation by donating to the humanitarian cause in gaza!

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #hinata shoyo #x reader #fem reader #my writing

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