#(At least nothing about aging that I remember)

[bruhstories]

Bet IV

p.1 here & p.2 here & p.3 here

mandatory mdni because things will start to get heated up in the following chapters.

summary: you're starting to feel things for the man who hired you to take care of his cat. but he's only being nice. that's it and nothing more. pairing: hwang in-ho/the front man x civilian!reader warnings & content: age gap, afab!reader, slightly detailed descriptions of reader’s background for plot purposes, red text for in-ho, purple for reader, pre 33rd squid game, canon divergent, domestic violence (reader gets slapped by her uncle), veeeery slow burn, reader's dad is dead w/c: 2.1k

a/n: if you would like to be tagged for the next part, please check this post! thank you for reading! please remember that if you asked to be tagged but i can't find your age on your blog, you will NOT be tagged. there will be smut and people dying lol.

"Where were you last night?"

You sighed at your uncle's question, sick and tired of explaining the same thing over and over again. He woke up earlier than he should have, especially for a man who worked night shifts at a warehouse. He did it on purpose, just to have more reasons to pick on you, and you knew that all too well. You lived through that hell for the past ten years.

"I told you, I was cat sitting." 

"Cat sitting." He repeated with derision in his voice. "You need to get a real job."

"I have two real jobs." You reminded him, and it took all your willpower not to raise your voice at him.

"Where's the money, then? Huh?" Your uncle grabbed you by the wrist, twisting it backwards.

"I'm getting paid today!"

"How much?" 

"660,326!" You cried out as his fingernails dug deeper into your skin.

"I better see that money on my nightstand by tomorrow morning." He let go of your wrist. "Keep the change."

How generous, you thought, rubbing the crescent-shaped dents in your skin. At least he didn't hit you, but your small victory crumbled when he turned on his heels, smacking you with the plastic fly swatter in his hand. Once. Twice. Thrice. 

You didn't cry, not in front of him. Never in front of him. 

But when you stepped through the doors of Mr. Hwang's penthouse, the dam broke, and tears streamed down your cheeks. They burned when they touched the cracked, swollen skin, courtesy of your uncle, but you still smiled at the sight of Eunjoo.

Instead of waiting next to the water bowl, like she had done before, the cat jumped on the countertop, her paw gently touching your wrist, where the imprinted dents of his fingernails were still visible. You didn't know why, but Eunjoo's gesture made you cry harder, heavy tears falling onto her plate. 

"Good kitty." You sobbed, daring to pet her, and she allowed it, nuzzling your hand for the first time since you met her.

Without wasting a single moment, you took out your phone to take a selfie of you and Eunjoo, and sent it to In-ho, with the caption 'Making progress!' You thought he might be happy to see her slowly lower her guard and get attached to you.

Who hurt you?

Stupid. How could you be so stupid to send a selfie when your cheek was grazed and puffy? Of course Mr. Hwang would ask about it, he was a nice man, one whose kindness you didn’t think you deserved.

I accidentally walked into a lamppost! Silly, right?

Hoping that the lie would be convincing enough, you carried on with your tasks after eating with Eunjoo, and to your surprise, it worked. It fooled him, but you weren’t proud of yourself in the slightest. 

You need to be more careful next time. If anything happened to you, who would take care of Eunjoo until I return?

It shouldn't have hurt reading his reply, and yet your heart ached. What did you expect? You were an employee, he obviously wanted his cat to be safe, not you. And how could someone like him even care about someone you? You came from different worlds that could never intertwine.

I will.

No thank you, no sad face — you were bitter, even though, rationally, you had no reason to be. Besides, you lied to him in the first place. Maybe if you told him the truth, he would have sent a different reply. It didn't matter. In less than five days he would come back, pay you and never speak to you again. Just like all rich people did.

You cleaned the bathrooms that morning, scrubbing the bath tubs, the toilets, the sinks and the floors until your fingertips stung and your head pounded from the bleach fumes. The vibration of your phone startled you, and you wiped your hands to check the notification.

Have I upset you?

Okay, maybe he did care. Or maybe he was just very observant and noticed your monotonous reply.

Not at all, I just have a lot on my mind. I'm sorry that you worried about me, or that I seemed upset! You're right, I need to be more careful next time.

Please don't take this the wrong way, miss, but I've never met anyone who apologised for making me worry about them. You're quite special.

You did a double take when you read Mr. Hwang's reply, and a wave of remorse crushed your heart. The man was too nice for you to lie to him, but you didn't want him involved in your family affairs, either. There was a strong internal conflict within you, a battle between honesty and dishonesty, but for the time being, dishonesty won, no matter how disgraceful it was.

Choosing not to reply, as time was ticking and the Abduls would be waiting for you soon, you swiftly finished tidying up the bathrooms and put away all the cleaning products so Eunjoo couldn't get to them. With the automatic feeder full, fresh water in the bowl and litter boxes clean, you left.

In all fairness, you didn't know what to reply to his text. No one called you special before, except for that one guy you dated who only wanted to sleep with you, and unfortunately succeeded. It wasn't your proudest moment, but you moved on since then. You stared at the text, typing a reply, then deleting it, then typing again, and you did that for the duration of the entire bus ride back to Guryong Village. By the time you knocked on Ali's door, you still hadn't come up with a response.

What could you even say? Thank you? Likewise? I'm sorry I lied to you, my uncle slapped me with the fly swatter? No. In telling the truth, Mr. Hwang would pity you, perhaps even offer you more money, or food, or clothes, and you didn't want to be pitied. You wanted your hard work to be recognised, not to use your social status or depressing background as an excuse.

Mrs. Abdul couldn't feed you that day, and that was fine. They needed to prioritise themselves, since they didn't live any better than you. Luckily, you saved enough money to buy a kimbap roll for lunch and a bag of rice crackers for dinner and breakfast. Resourcefulness was, perhaps, your strongest point and the reason you survived for so long.

The theme park was packed with tourists and locals, gathering to watch the parade, and you took the time to entertain children and take pictures with them, always on your feet, always working. Back in the dressing room, you took the comically large mascot head off, sweat dripping down your face and neck. Summers were worse — there were body parts you didn't think could sweat.

"Excuse me, Y/N?"

You looked up from your seat to a man around your age, a coworker named Donghyun. He had worked there for a few months or so, but you barely spoke.

"Yes?" You smiled, resting your elbows on the mascot head in your lap.

"We're getting paid today, and a few of us are going for drinks after work. I was wondering if you would like to come." Donghyun avoided looking into your eyes, nervously pinching the soft fur of his own mascot.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, but I have another job I need to get to. Maybe another time."

"Yeah, another time." He nodded. "Hey, could I get your number?"

"Why would you want my number?" You laughed, immediately pursing your lips when Donghyun frowned. "Sorry, yeah, of course I'll give you my number!"

You were such a people pleaser, it was ridiculous, but he seemed to feel better after saving your number in his phone. And there was no harm in making new friends.

"I'll text you later." Donghyun nodded with a smile and left.

What a strange interaction, you thought. It wasn't unusual for men to like you — you were pretty, smart, funny — but you just weren't interested in any of them. In fact, it was their age and maturity that didn't appeal to you. They acted like prepubescent pricks, trying to impress anything with a vagina and a pretty face by being obnoxious and loud and downright irritating.

Older men were different. They had manners, they were respectful and caring. They knew how to dress, knew how to speak to women, kind of like Mr. Hwang.

Oh. 

God, you needed to forcibly remove that thought from your mind before it spiraled into something worse. In-ho probably wanted nothing to do with you — no, he definitely didn’t want anything to do with you. He was just a nice gentleman who happened to not be married. Maybe he had a girlfriend that didn't live with him. Or maybe he worked so much he couldn't afford a relationship. 

Maybe he murdered people.

You laughed at that ridiculous idea — no one in their right mind would do that, especially not Mr. Hwang. He had a cat, for God's sake. Murderers usually killed animals, surely he was just a normal man with a lot on his mind, a workaholic, or a hermit.

Walking into your boss' office, you received your pay and counted the money — 662,326. You got more than you should've, completely forgetting about the pay rise. Your uncle didn't need to know about that, and you took the extra 2,326 and hid it in a small pocket inside your backpack, along with other money you saved. Unbeknownst to him, you secretly opened a savings account in the hopes that one day you would be able to leave and rent your own place, but you only had 1,094,463.60 won, which was barely enough to cover the deposit.

One day. One day you would leave all that abuse behind and have a fresh start. But today was not that day. 

Back in Gangnam-gu, you entered the penthouse earlier than normal and dropped your bag on the floor next to your worn and torn boots. You were hoping they would last through winter because you really couldn't afford a new pair. Eunjoo ran to greet you for the first time, and your heart was filled with joy at the sight of the cat rubbing against your leg. She was growing on you, and you soon realised how much you'd miss her when Mr. Hwang returned. Perhaps he'd let you visit her. 

You turned the TV on and played some songs by ABBA, the sadness of the morning gone, replaced only by joy and optimism. Things would turn out well, you just knew it. You grabbed In-ho's black clothes and placed them in the washing machine, all the while dancing to the beat of Money, Money, Money. It was a song you related to, but you didn't want to find a wealthy man. You just wanted to have enough money to survive without your uncle.

"It's a rich man's world." You sang to Eunjoo, who wiggled her butt, playfully attacking your feet. 

"All the things I could do if I had a little money, kitty. I would get my own apartment, I would donate to orphanages and charities. Oh, don't look at me like that." You frowned when Eunjoo stared at you judgmentally. "I would! There are people out there who need help. But you know what I would get for me? A hotteok! Ah, I would kill for that cinnamony goodness."

You placed the food on the floor and opened the pack of rice crackers. 

"My dad got me a hotteok on my seventh birthday. It was the best birthday ever and- oh my God, I'm talking to a cat." Laughing at the sudden realisation, you shook your head in disbelief. "Well, you're probably my only friend anyway. You don't judge me. You don't care if I'm rich or poor. You just listen and eat. Oh!"

Good evening, Mr. Hwang! Could I ask what your favourite dish is?

You decided that would be your gift. Cooking wasn't your strongest skill, but you were confident in yourself. And who didn't want to come back to a hot home-made meal? Maybe he liked jajangmyeon, or jjigae, or something sweet, like chapssaltteok. The possibilities were endless.

Beef Wellington. Why?

Your heart sunk to your stomach. Beef fucking Wellington? How on Earth could you even afford all the ingredients? The tenderloin itself was probably over 65,000 won. But you were going to do it for him, regardless of what it cost. You felt that Mr. Hwang deserved it. 

I was hoping to cook it for you when you returned. I'll admit, I didn't think it would be such a... fancy dish, but I'm sure I can manage. 

Have you tried it before?

I'm afraid not. Is it good?

Exquisite. You'll have to stay and try it when I return, yes?

Chewing on your bottom lip, your heart skipped a beat at his request. You knew he was just being nice, but you couldn't stop the sudden burning desire to just obey. 

Yeah, I'll stay. 

tagging: @ri1liane @anmert1 @syraxnyra @frshluvcats @lanyia @mettreads @nightdark-dreamdark @bridge-always @lovekm @audrey223 @ririgy @starkeyszn  @hobiesbrownsgf  @thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry @maria-trisha @akiqvq @10hrs26mn @tenzko @okaycharr @politicstanner @moonxknightx @googie-jeon @swthrtbyeol  @mariiestfu  @ratsnestinmyhair @missroro @talia-the-gemini @fortluocha @true-queen-of-mischief @ssa-callahan @bibliophile-yomna @wwastro @heartsforseo @marymun @glads-stuff @starryeddie @kisses2kanao @gagaga167 @l4venderia @scryi @lelisae @twicelover2 @ashtrosstuff @cruel-affair @cdej6 @veragrhm @nikos-a-clown @cchewhaz @pepsicolacoochie @lily-ann-b @red22wolf @nellabear @unabletonotlovesatoru @happiness2112 @waterjewelsspite @luna-looniesnlog @plan3t-plut0 @full-sunnies @houta-habtet-houta @alexisabirdie @riri53 @bluehourss

[brickeater712]

mesmerism

cw: professor!chameleon x student!reader, reader is in university and of age, hypnotism, cunnilingus, power bottom chameleon, strap-ons, nonconsensual mind snooping (???), semi-public sex at the end, very bad understanding of the human sexuality syllabus

a/n: sorry to anyone who takes or has taken the human sexuality program.

you don’t quite remember the exact moment she had wormed her way into your mind. you don’t recall when you had started looking at your psychology professor that way, and you certainly don’t remember the first time you lay on your bed, thrusting your fingers deep into your dripping cunt to the thought of her. and most importantly, you definitely don’t remember a quarter of your lesson material- because you were too busy dreaming away about your professor.

you think it’s not obvious. you hope it’s not. but you don’t know that your professor notices every tint of red on your cheeks and flits of your eyes. 

at first, she downplays it as nothing more than a fidgety student. but with every lesson that passes by, her interests grows- especially after watching the way you’d cutely ask her questions after class. 

“mi- miss theseus?” 

your professor turns around to see you, bright eyes staring up at her curiously. she smiles, noting the enthusiasm in your demeanor- and perhaps, something more than that. 

“hello, darling,” she watches as your face flushes ever so slightly, “have a question?”

“well… it’s somewhat embarrassing, but- i was just wondering… is there truly no difference between a vaginal and clitorial orgasm? if they both originate from different spots, surely they aren't the same…”

you flush as you ask the question. her lips curl into a little smile.

strange, she wonders. no one has asked her this question before, if she recalls. the only way someone would have to ask if-

“never had either before?” she teases, but manages to infer from your reaction that she was right. she relishes in the way your eyes look elsewhere and the shuffling of your feet.

you're quick to deny it, but she already knows. no matter- she can always touch on that again on a future date.

it was never just one occurrence, either. many times you would approach her, asking… questions… that might hint at something more than an educational curiosity. 

“would you know if homosexuals have better communication than heterosexuals…?” 

a thinly veiled implication.

“well, i wouldn’t know about the latter…” she mused, and walked off, leaving you to think about the answer.

she could hear an almost-silent squeal from you.

you pique her interest- more so than she would've expected. she enjoys observing the way your fingers fiddle with each other whenever you speak to her. it doesn't take long for her to begin sorting through your mind with her little tricks- 

only to see the perverted little fantasies that you hoard- especially in her classes. she tends to find you thinking about her thighs - wondering how she'd look in a gorgeous low cut blouse.

of course, she doesn't hesitate to wear one the next day, leaving you nearly drooling onto your lap. she had fun poking around your mind that day- filled with thoughts of eating her out on her teacher's desk. 

this little game of hers continues for weeks, sifting through your head to pick out your preferences- what makes you fidget, what makes you flustered. she ups the ante as well, walking up behind you when you least expect it, placing a gentle hand on your trembling shoulder. 

you remember her leaning in close, close enough that the scent of her perfume overwhelms you, and her breast only lightly brushes against your hair, and that was only for a mere few seconds before you mutter out something about ‘going to the bathroom’, and scampering out of the classroom like a little mouse.

all she did was giggle, and return to her table.

the day she decides to start her little plan is a mundane one- at least for you. well, nothing out of the ordinary about your fantasies anyways- except for one at the very back of your mind, that she couldn’t quite reach herself. what better way to expose it than getting you to say it?

you only snap out of your daydreams when you feel your professor’s presence behind you- whipping your head around quickly to see her smiling down at you. 

“see me after class. i have something to show you.” she walks away without turning around, leaving you vibrating in excitement in your seat. time passes by as slowly as ever- until finally, the bell rings, and the rest of the students filter out of the classroom one by one, except you.

when the last student finally exits, she looks up from her work to you staring directly at her, and beckons you to come forward with a wave of her finger. 

you stumble forward, nearly falling flat on your face. “yes, ms theseus?” you ask, wondering why she'd ask you to stay behind.

“don't be too worried dear, you're not in trouble.” she muses. “i’m just here to ask you about something.”

you nod your head curiously, waiting for her to continue.

“i was wondering- what do you think of hypnotism in therapy?” 

“mmm…” you think out loud. your professor was never one to hide details about her career- once mentioning the way she dabbled in hypnotherapy. 

“well, i don’t particularly know how useful it would be for all patients, especially since not everyone has the same hypnotizability rate, and it doesn’t change with age…” you offer your opinion thoughtfully.

“what about if you were the patient? what do you think?” 

“me…? i… uh…” you trail off, suddenly experiencing a strange feeling rising in your gut. 

you stop mumbling as you watch her take her pocket watch attached to her belt. before you can ask what she was doing, she puts it in front of your face and snaps !

you blink confusedly, feeling no change in your body. that is, until she decided to ask a question. “well, let’s try it right now. what do you feel?”

you try to speak, but the words that come out of your mouth don’t feel like yours- or at least they feel like they’ve been forced out of you. “afraid.” you blurt out, and slap your hand over your mouth immediately after.

she stands up and advances towards you. “really? afraid? of what?” she almost-whispers, trying to pry an answer out of you.

you can only take steps backward. “of, of-” you stutter, trying to suppress the words bubbling in your throat. 

“tell your professor, darling- are you hiding something from me?” she presses harder, cornering you as your ass hits the table behind you. nowhere to run. 

“n-no…” you look away, avoiding eye contact. 

“really? nothing like, say, a fantasy-” 

you cut her off with words that force their way out of your mouth once again. “of you?” your eyes widen and your body starts to tremble. 

“that’s right.” you don’t see it, but her lips curl into a sneer. “tell me more.” 

not a question, a command. 

“of, of you…” you try to swallow down the fantasy prodding inside your head, but her power is much stronger than that. “...taking me on your lap-” when the words are uttered, your core flares to life, arousal coursing through your body, despite your vocal autonomy not being your own. 

“mm. anything else, dear?” she pushes even harder. 

tears well up in your eyes, but your core gets wet too- being cornered by your favourite professor like this. she places a hand on your shoulder, making you shake harder. 

“um- uh, spanking me… in your office… telling me to keep quiet… while other people walk past…” you mumble out- embarrassed of that fantasy in particular. 

what a cute thing she’s been hiding from me, she wonders. with that, she retreats, leaving you with room to catch your breath. 

“well, that’s all i have to ask for now, darling. next time,” she mumbles, “will be a lot more… exciting.” just like that, before you can react to anything, she raises her hand and snap!

you jolt up in your seat in the classroom, from what seemed like nothing more than a filthy dream, one that left your panties wet. you look around confusedly, only to see that everyone had already left the classroom, except your professor, who had noticed your awakening. 

“good afternoon, dear.” she chuckles, closing her book. “i was going to wake you up, but you were sleeping so peacefully.” she almost coos at you, standing up to walk toward you. 

you’re confused. what just happened? was that really just a dream? but it felt so real…

while you were caught up in your thoughts, she reaches your side and places a hand on your shoulder. 

“remember to sleep early, dear, we can’t have you falling asleep in class.” and just like that, she leaves the classroom, and leaves you in a daze. 

you shift in your seat, trying to process what had just transpired, hyper-aware of the heat in your groin. another cold shower tonight, you suppose, one filled with the memories of what seemed to be a dream. 

the following weeks seem to be a hazy, heat filled one. your professor keeps wearing the exact outfits you always dream of, and multiple dreams of you confessing your deepest desires to her- but always ending up waking at your desk, with her smiling at you as kindly as ever.

you think it’s quite strange- it’s almost like someone is listening to your thoughts, and somehow bringing them to life. everytime your professor shows up in an outfit that is someone just your type, you thank the heavens above- not knowing that she finds it quite amusing. 

once she’s pried enough secrets out of you, she finally decides to confront you, on a day just like any other, sunset filtering through the blinds of the classroom windows. all the students are gone, just like usual, leaving just you and her in the classroom, together. today, she’s dressed in a way that you seem to have fantasized about the most- her blouse, with the top three buttons conveniently undone, and a short pencil skirt, and you couldn’t help but drool over yourself when you thought she wasn’t looking. 

she approaches you in the same way she has in so many other countless ‘dreams’. and she’s straight to the point this time. 

“so darling, when were you going to tell me about how you want to eat me out from under my desk?” she sits on the table in front of yours, legs crossed. she says it nonchalantly, as if it were another question on the syllabus. 

“wh-what? what are you-” 

she reaches out to give your cheek a little pat. “hush now, i know more than you might think, dear.” she stands up and walks behind you, putting both hands on your shoulders. “don’t think i don’t notice you drooling over me during class. you’re lucky you’re a top student- or i’d be a lot more strict on you.”

her words ignite a spark in you- strict? what kind of strict is she talking about? punishing you with a cane? denying you of orgasms? perhaps- 

“listen when your professor is talking.” she tuts, making you snap back to her gaze. an extreme sense of deja vu hits you- has this truly happened before? 

“now as i was saying. when were you going to tell me? after graduation? that’d be too late, no? what other time will you finger me on my desk?” she whispers it now, riling you up slowly as she spills your own secrets back to you.

“i know, darling,” she watches in amusement as she caresses your shoulder, almost grazing over your neck. “i know the way you want me to hurt you, to pleasure you, to take you mine. ” she sighs. “i just wished you’d have told me earlier to save all this time. even though i teased you so much, you still did nothing to chase your desires.”

“how…” your voice comes out quiet and meek, unable to look her in the eyes. 

“that’s my secret, darling. not for you to know- at least not now.”

before she can say another word, you burst into tears. “i-i, i’m so sorry, miss theseus, i promise it won’t happen again, i didn’t mean t-” 

a finger, pressed against your mouth, shushes you. “i never said i was mad, darling. i do find you quite adorable, actually.”

your tears clear up quick, sniffling quietly as you look up at her.

she prompts you to stand up, and motions you to follow her to the front of the classroom. she very quickly, but seductively, strips herself of her skirt, leaving herself in lace panties. you can only stare in shock as she leans against her desk.

 “well? what are you waiting for? it’s in your human instinct to embrace your innate desires. go on, have a taste of what you’ve been dreaming of.” 

without any hesitation, you drop to your knees in front of her and pull down her panties, making her gasp and giggle at your eagerness. 

“no rush, dear, the classrooms only get cleaned at night.” she mumbles, stroking your hair, spreading her legs to reveal her core. you note that she’s already wet- no doubt from teasing and making you squirm. you don’t really feel like taking your time- foreplay can wait for another day- and you dive right in, licking broad, flat stripes up her cunt, reveling in the absolutely delicious taste. you moan when your tongue hits her already hard clit, vibrations traveling through her to make her whimper softly. 

you eat her out like a starved woman, occasionally plunging your tongue into her hole. you push your nose against her trimmed pubic hair, inhaling her scent as much as you can. it makes you giddy, and it makes your eating sloppy.  

above you, she moans as she very gently pushes your head harder against her, nearly grinding her hips against your face. “so good,” she sighs out, “you’ve learnt quite a bit in this class, huh?” she chuckles, but you’re far too occupied to respond. one of your hands, previously gripping her soft thigh, moves to prod at her entrance. 

you move up and suck at her clit gently, making her grip your hair harder. “c’mon, put that tongue to more use… you’re always asking your little questions anyways, yeah? the ones that- oh!- ” she gets cut off as you push two of your fingers into her slowly- “the ones that you think are just- haah, regular questions…” she throws her head back as you hilt your fingers completely in her cunt.

your face heats up when you recall the countless questions you had asked her, poorly disguised in the name of education when really, you were just trying to gather some information about her. she continues to tease you.

“there’s so much that i know… you didn’t think a licensed psychologist couldn’t figure out what you were thinking? how pathetic.” she mocks, recalling that you quite enjoy being degraded in your fantasies. your own pussy burns at her words, almost having half a mind to reposition yourself and grind down on her heel. 

she knows that you’re wet, almost more than her, and decides to offer it to you. she moves her leg to tap your clothed crotch with her heel. you whine into her cunt.

“grind.” the order is short and simple, and you waste no time trying your best to pleasure yourself on her. in turn, you thrust your fingers quickly, trying to make her cum over you. you start sucking her clit harder, earning a “good girl” from her, and curl your fingers into her soft, sweet spot, making her cries reverberate throughout the room. 

“just a little more, darling- oh… next time, it’ll be under my desk during class…” she coos, encouraging you to drive her over the edge. you barely get a warning as you feel her clenching around your fingers, and she pushes her head hard as she climaxes, cum dripping down your wrist. she moans into the air softly, riding her high out on your face. 

“ good girl, ” she mumbles, slapping your cheek a few times when you pull away, a string of slick connecting your face to her red cunt. “much better than i expected. but i think, you still have a lot to learn…” 

you nod, almost drooling, ready to accept any lesson from her. you almost reluctantly move yourself off her heel to stand up, leaving yourself unsatisfied.

but you're here to please her, after all.

“well then,” she moves to her desk to take something out of a drawer. “how about this?” she pulls out- a harness, and a dildo- something which strangely fits your tastes. “it’s time to properly learn how to please a woman like me.” she smiles, and hands them to you.

you fumble slightly putting it on, hearing the metal bits clank together. it amuses your professor, but eventually you get it on. “good.” she purrs, and lies on her back on her desk and gets comfortable. she uses her fingers to spread her cunt, to show you her sopping hole, enticing you to come closer. “come on now, fuck me like you’ve always wanted to.”

you stumble forward, entranced, one hand holding up the strap and prodding at her hole. “miss theseus… i can’t believe this is happening.” you breathe out, still in disbelief. “thank you…” but before you can say anything else, she shushes you.

“the sentiments can come later. come on, you have much to learn…” she teases. 

“then i’ll have to oblige.” you murmur, slowly pushing into her tight, warm, cunt. she lays her head on the table, moaning as she feels the stretch. 

“a pity i can’t teach you this during class. you’d already have me crying on this desk if that were the case.” she drawls, trying to provoke you into speeding up. you take the hint. 

without any warning, you push all the way in, hilting yourself in her pussy. she moans in shock, but she clearly doesn’t mind as she grinds back onto your strap, and wraps her legs around your waist.

you start moving, putting your hands on her soft hips to steady yourself. you thrust clumsily, trying to set a rhythm to please the older woman. you try to thrust upward to the spot you had hit with your fingers, jerking the strap around inside her. her long, drawn-out moans fill the room, and you desperately pray that no one is walking outside right now.

she’s already sensitive- and it doesn’t take long for your thrusts to exert more power as you feel her clenching around you.

“faster, dear,” she moans, hands gripping the edge of the table, “make me cum, and i’ll reward you.” 

the idea of a reward makes sparks erupt in your brain, and you speed up, thrusting mindlessly in an attempt to get her to cum faster. you move a hand to rub on her hard clit, making her whimper on the desk. “just like that.” she whines, drawing closer to her orgasm. 

her moans grow louder in a beautiful crescendo, and when her pitch reaches its peak, so does she. she tightens incredibly around your strap, creaming around it as you hilt yourself inside her all the way. her limbs tremble, eyes rolled back into her head as she processes her orgasm fully. when she stops shaking, you look down and pull out to see a ring of white on the base of the strap. 

she slowly sits up on the desk, panting, sweat-covered, and with a small smirk.

“good girl. you’ll get a reward tomorrow.” she breathes out.

__________

“now class, i’ll be grading your papers so go about your own studies. the exam is next week.” 

groans of ‘yes, miss theseus’ ring about, students jeering at being reminded about the finals.

“good, they’ll be busy doing their own things.” she murmurs under her breath. underneath her desk, you plunge your tongue inside her cunt, hidden from view. she’s good at hiding her orgasm- already came on your face once without any visible reaction. 

“i think i’ll keep you under here for the rest of the semester. i’ll get you a pillow for your poor knees.” she says as quietly as possible. all you do is nod vigorously and continue eating her out, trying to please your professor as much as possible- as much as she wants. 

[missuscupid]

content warning: john price's secretary, use of good girl, age gap (reader is in her late twenties/early thirties, john is forties), price doesn’t like the share, both are kinda pervy lets be real.

you were such a good girl- always keeping your head down and following orders. john knew just how happy you were to please him. he saw it every day, that twinkle in your eyes every time he seemed pleased with whatever you were doing and offered a gruff "thank you" in your direction. he saw the way that you looked to him for approval anytime you did anything; it was like you wanted him to praise you and who was john to deny an angel such as yourself?

the problem with having a pretty thing stationed right outside his door is that it seemed to attract mutts. young recruits, older soldiers, his own taskforce seemed to linger just a moment too long while delivering papers. his most recent notice was one of the baby-faced recruits that seemed to flush red as soon as he dropped papers on the desk for the captain. it was hard not to- the way you smiled so prettily and bat your eyelashes as you thanked him, ignoring the way his eyes seemed to go straight down the thin silk blouse you were wearing.

john hated watching- hated the way that he noticed the recruit draw his eyes from your breast up to the tiny diamond necklace around your neck. a gift from someone john couldn't remember- a family member maybe. he was sure he'd remember if it was a spouse or boyfriend at least.

"love," john's voice cut through, gruff and demanding, "bring me that file please."

and the recruit was off, scurrying with his tail between his legs and a buckled little bye as he went. like the good girl you were, you were up and across the office at the first request. you bent, sliding the file onto his desk.

"thank you love," the pet names should've raised concern but you didn't think anything of it. it was common to hear around the base, men constantly eyeballing and calling out a reminder of your status to them. nothing more than a pretty face for the most part. you just nodded, halfway turning around when you heard the pen hit the floor.

whether it was intentional or not, john would never confirm but he wanted you bend, skirt slowly riding up your thighs as you went. his eyes were glued to your backside, daring you to bend just a little further to get a glance at the panties underneath your tights; were they as white and pure as you acted? a lacy red begging to be taken? or maybe you didn't wear anything at all-

he was hard underneath the desk, chair pulled up just enough that it wouldn't have been noticeable. not when you turned back to drop the pen onto the desk, the warm smell of vanilla still against your skin.

"anything else i can do for you, sir?"

"that'll be it." he cleared his throat, “pull the door closed on your way out.”

the door tugged shut behind you and only mere seconds later, john was tugging open the belt securing his pants.

he fisted his cock in his hand, slowly moving it underneath his desk to the thought of you. all long legs and short skirts. fat, soft hips that he wanted to grab. a thin shirt he could snap in a moment. he moved faster, a groan escaping his lips as his head fell back against the chair. rhythmically he moved, fisting into his own hand as his orgasm crept up. only a few short thrusts into his hand and cum pooled at the tip, slipping down his fist and towards his belt with guilt slowly settling in his stomach.

was it so wrong to think about the pretty secretary he had hired specifically to keep him entertained? probably.

but if he knew you were on the other side with your ear pressed against the door and your panties already wet thinking about him, he might be able to forgive himself.

[zoot-marimba]

After Post-COVID, we can very safely say that Thomas is Craig's biological father, the two look way too much alike for that not to be the case.

I will say that I initially figured Laura Tucker dyes her hair blonde, but then I remembered that Tricia's hair color is strawberry blonde-a hair color that usually comes from having one red haired parent and one blonde parent. Therefore, it seems fairly certain that Laura is a natural blonde, and we can obviously say that Tricia is definitely Thomas and Laura's kid by blood.

However, going back to Post-COVID, it is worth noting that while Craig is a dead ringer for Thomas at that age, there's nothing you can really point to as coming from his mother. Contrast that with Tweek, who has characteristics in common with both of his parents.

I will say that at least in the Dandyverse, I do lean towards Craig coming from a previous relationship of Thomas', with her and Thomas having separate some time after Craig's birth and that she later died. Besides the aforementioned details regarding Adult Craig's resemblance to either parent, there's a few other factors that went into the decision to go this route:

1. It could explain Craig's ties to Incan and Peruvian culture. Yes, that was likely meant to poke fun at the White Savior trope, but Mr. Kim was also initially meant to simply be a satirical take on Asian stereotypes prior to the big reveal with him.

2. It would certainly explain a lot about Thomas and Craig's relationship. The thing that I feel a lot of people miss and particularly fanfic writers miss when writing Thomas is that he isn't this mean or abusive asshole. If anything, he's arguably among the more nuanced parents on the show, certainly in terms of how he fits into the "good" or "bad" categories of parenting. As shown in "Tweek x Craig", Thomas very much does love his son, but he also clearly struggles in opening up emotionally (which might be the biggest thing he and his son have in common).

3. It could also add some context to Craig's behavior in the early seasons. In those seasons, Craig was known as the kid who was constantly getting into trouble, almost always just outside of either Principal Victoria's office or Mr. Mackey's. That's literally why he was singled out as being one of the kids set up to fight in "Tweek vs Craig". While a lot of it did come from Craig's struggles to deal with his emotions in a healthy or productive way, the loss of his birth mother could easily have served as the last straw in this regard. It also could explain Craig gradually mellowing out once the kids entered fourth grade as by then, enough time had passed.

4. Even though this post is meant to be about Craig's family and his relationship with his parents, I can even see this adding a fair bit to his and Clyde's relationship. While they were already friends beforehand (not hurt by having grown up on the same block), I can easily see Clyde turning to Craig for support after his own mother's death. Other than maybe Cartman (and even Clyde isn't stupid enough to turn to CARTMAN for emotional support), Craig is about the only other kid that Clyde knows that could possibly understand what it's like. Likewise, Craig can also open up to Clyde in a way that he struggles to with his dad (and can't really do with Tricia since Thomas's ex wasn't her mom), so he too would probably find it cathartic.

So yeah. That's all I've got to say about that.

Actually, putting this in a post in case the blog page ever disappears

[broken image was the thumbnail for The Magic Bush as it appeared on Hulu at the time]

and the best part, linking to the now defunct forums page that I didn't archive when we were saving pages last year :))))) Source

[the-worms-in-your-bones]

I am once again going down the rabbit hole of trying to figure out the ages of the Gallifrey characters

[bonebabbles]

I keep starting and abandoning posts that go into my drafts, as I try to stay tasteful about how fucking revolted this part makes me. Like, I'm legitimately unsure if the very relevant trauma I have is making me see things that aren't here

But first we see that Star Flower is trying to ingratiate herself to the group, just after she reappears from chapter 5. Chapter 5 is about how Clear Sky is still abusive towards his son, and she comes in after stroking his ego, stressing how alone she is, and appealing to how she'll be loyal unlike his child. (She glances over at Thunder, directly implying this.)

Now in Chapter 9, she's babysitting and trying to care for Milkweed's kits (in spite of discomfort from Milkweed), taking a wet sleeping space away from the others, and pulling more than her own weight "without complaint." Putting herself through harsh sitations to prove her worth.

All while trying to appear extra attractive to Thunder, and later Clear Sky. Basically every man in power who can "protect her"

Like, am I going fucking crazy? With how we later find out that Star Flower was "promised as a mate" to One Eye's subordinate Slash, is... is that hypersexualization? One of the extremely stigmatized symptoms of sexual abuse?

She goes to find Clear Sky alone to throw herself at his paws, and he's very quickly attracted to how she promises to perfectly obey him, have no needs of her own, and finally be the perfect servant that he desires

"I don't deserve your trust because I am dirt. I understand you because I also regret something. I'd die for you. I'll never betray you unlike those who have."

This isn't manipulation. She means this. The story is playing their romance sincerely. She's comparing "betraying" Thunder by telling her own father about an assassination ambush to Clear Sky's history of child abuse, physical assault, and murder

She believes she's on the same level as this; a monster who murdered a childhood friend in a fit of entitled rage. She was a victim of One Eye who really believes that the way her father used her means she "understands" this monster, deserves this treatment.

And Clear Sky LIKES that.

He likes that she will have COMPLETE FAITH in him. That she will follow him WITHOUT QUESTION. That she will OBEY his orders. That's fucking verbatim, that's THE TEXT!!!

WHILE HE'S STILL CRYING ABOUT "ive tried to atone every day" FOLLOWING THE LAST TWO BOOKS WHERE THE ONLY SHITTY THING HE DOESN'T DO IS MURDER INNOCENT WOMEN

Am I insane?? Am I wrong??? Am I missing something here???? Why the fuck is the fandom takeaway "haha sexy girl steals his dad." Did I read the same book

[tiny-pretty-sana]

i don’t want to sound mean when saying this but as a reader who also writes i think i should remind you that small details can be as important as a good plot or a good writing.

be careful and write down notes about the story and characters individual stories like dates, ages, how/when they met or how they call each other. specially when writing long fics, multiple chapter fics or aus.

readers who read the story at the same time you’re posting it but readers who come when the story is complete will probably notice if a character ages changes in different characters while the timeline has not changed, if dates don’t make sense, etc… that doesn’t make you a bad writer but it will certainly take the reader attention away of the story for a few seconds if they notice it or if it happens repeatedly throughout the story.

hope this helps 🐰💜

[atangledesire]

So it wasn't exactly something she could control? She just picked up things that she saw? still it sounded beyond useful! watch a blackbelt in martial arts and bam your a mater to? Here all she got was a stupid useless second tail! Still She could see how picking up a skill you didn't intend to would be problematic. But used right it could broaden your horizons. Though it sounded like it probably had a limit, and relying on someone elses talents could end up being a bad crutch.

" It still sounds useful, i mean i'd have killed for something like that in school... but awesome all the same! "

She giggled at Sonar and couldn't help but smile at her

" Sooo, you like a good prank is what i'm hearing! i'll have to keep my eyes open just in case! "

Was it a Date, she had to think about it real hard as it was never her intent to take Sonar out. But then she was cute, funny, and smart! She had no idea what her type would have been but, running a few scenarios in her head of them doing date like things. She could say she didn't hate the idea in fact quite the opposite. But then... she was a bit touch starved and, really wanted a romantic partner. Especially since her first couple attempts had ended not so well.

" Well... Sonar i guess we have to ask ourselves. Do we want to try dating? It might be a real learning experience for the both of us... i've very little experience at it to... so we could.. totally mess this up together, and maybe learn a little along the way. "

She held her hand out to Sonar again, only this time it was a little more an offer to try something new, and maybe a little scary together.

" I'm your type right? and ... i think you might be my type... we might regret it for the rest of our lives if we don't at least give it a shot. I don't...really find that offensive hehe, "

She was taking a risk, a big one as she didn't know Sonar super well but they could just---go on a date and see how things went. They already had a drink together, and danced to. What was holding hands, and what ever else they managed to get up to. Plus... She was having fun, and that counted for alot right?

" Hey its ok, we can take it slow... being on a Date isn't like going steady right? its just a couple, out to have a little fun together, in a romantic way... like sharing a drink and dancing... if the movies are anything to go by... "

She smiled softly at Sonar

" And... hey remember? i just spent ages looking for my brother. So i get where you are coming from... i really do. "

She almost wanted to offer Sonar a hug but thought it might be a bit much since only just met. But she hoped maybe sonar would be open to the Idea if nothing else. But either way she would still help her look for her cousin because, to her family was important.

"It's not all it's cracked up to be as sometimes you pick up some weird skills you don't mean to. Like talking backwards or extreme pencil spinning, and don't ask about that one." Sonar had picked up some many odd skills and some are certainly more useless than others. "Though I do like to screw with Spike and Trevor by randomly talking back words. First time I did it was on Halloween. I managed to convince them I was possessed." That was a fun Halloween.

"Hey, I don't mind if it's a date, though I might not be very good at it since this is my first one." Sonar didn't mind, just wanted to be clear one where they stood before things continued. "Well, I'm more into girls and I always found myself eyeing up ladies who do hard work. Oh, what's the word everyone uses? I think it's tomboy? That's not offensive to you, is it?" Let's hope it wasn't now that she brought it up.

"Isn't hand holding and kissing for when you're dating? Don't me wrong or anything. I'm having fun, you're really nice, and I do find you cute. Though dating is super big. Then again I've seen people hit it off fast and start dating after one date so who knows." Sonar just didn't want to rush into things. "Though I guess I should mention I have a lot going on. The reason I left my home village is because I'm looking for my cousin."

[ableedingpromise]

God I'm so fucking annoyed how come she gets to treat me however she likes and then gets to say she didn't mean it?????

[cuteniarose]

Sometimes I wish I had more people interested in my creations, but then I get hit by thoughts like “Imagine the outrage you’d be faced with if your Avatar Suiren AU was more popular. This is the fandom that still cannot ‘forgive’ Korra for SOMETHING THAT WAS DONE TO HER, calling her the worst Avatar for losing the connection to her past lives (which came about because she HAD RAAVA LITERALLY RIPPED OUR OF HER) and acting like that is somehow a worse offence than, say, inaction leading to genocide. The hate you’d get for intentionally making Suiren the last Avatar would be IMMEASURABLE” and go “… actually, I’m glad that for the most part it’s just @katkastrofa and I–”

(Though then again… would it even be an AU by yours truly if it didn’t contain at least one cancellable offence? 😁)

[mushed-kid]

gonna sound dumb for a minute.

actually,,,, i dont think i want to do biology💀😭

[thesummerstorms]

I don't think people understand. I love Luke Castellan because he's a tragedy.

It's all about hat small, tiny bit of nuance, the almost, not quite hope of him reaching out to spare Annabeth (becoming concerned when she's fading beneath the sky, convincing Atlas not to kill her in TTC, telling his forces to spare her when they are captured in the Labyrinth) juxtaposed with the fact that he was the one who almost killed Annabeth in the first place, directly or indirectly, by trapping her beneath the sky, ordering her death on the Princess Andromeda, attacking Camp and all of Annabeth's friends and family.

The fact that Annabeth was alone in her love for him, that she was isolated because no one could accept her hope that her "family" could be saved.

The fact that the love was real. That she was right, and he loved her, however how horribly he treated her.

The fact that the love would never have been enough to save him or turn him from his fate. The best it could do was give him a more meaningful death.

The fact that she has to live with that love while knowing everything he did to those around her and that despite telling him in TLO, she still thinks privately to herself in HoH that he might be one of the murder's souls trapped in the Acheron, calling out eternally from the river of pain.

The tragedy is the point.

[quibbs126]

So guys what do I call him?

He’s one of my old Ralia characters, and I was going to say that I felt like changing his name because it was probably stupid, but as it turns out, I don’t actually have it anywhere, so I don’t know what his name was in the first place

I do know that in the original version, he was basically supposed to be part of this tribe on a mysterious island that protected this big important tree. Also that he originally was based on Knuckles and was originally a honey badger

I also know that now, design wise, his people have the distinct appearance of having black fur with white stripes (same as Striker, since I made him one of them)

Also, that their hair is tied to whatever element they use. Like for example, Striker’s got wind powers now, so he’s got hair sort of like a cloud. The guy above had water powers, so he’s got blue, flowy hair

His design is subject to change though, since I made this original design for him like a year ago, I just never got around to finishing it until now when I wanted to ask what to name him. He and Striker might switch markings, and/or I just add to his current markings

My brain’s saying just to call him River or something, but I’m not sure, hence why I’m asking here

I’d also ask for a new name for Striker, but my current priority right now is this guy, so just him is fine for now

[anaalnathrakhs]

ghezikjfjekzjkezn i cannot fucking WAIT to move out

[bitchfitch]

For all the teething I've been doing on Pavo and Esti i haven't been able to like, actually write any thing for them recently mostly because I've been Busy.

But also because I'm snapping between like 3 ideas for them at terminal velocity and haven't been able to actually get anything written for them and it's like having pumas bouncing around my skull at mach fuck as though theyre house cats at 2 am when you're trying to sleep,

[unproduciblesmackdown]

though i eventually got to read some, in earlier years goosebumps books would be the kind of series where i'd just ponder the cover art, and i always liked the drama of the monster blood illustration (the lighting/colors....sure nothing's happening in it but i felt it evoked the drama of "what if you're downstairs and something's upstairs" much like "what if you're upstairs and something's downstairs") like well too bad i guess i never got around to reading i at the time. but as of a recap yesterday i'm surprised to now be at least 90% sure i read part if not all of it, and thinking i hadn't may be due to how kind of nothing happens in it