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dilf-docs · 3 days ago

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This Thing Upon Me, Howls Like A Beast

professor!pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: to cover some social hours and as a favor to your recently fallen-ill friend, you become your research methodology professor's TA. but here's the catch: you've got history, and what you really mean is beef; good, pure, unadulterated loath.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, pwp, rivals to ??, hate sex, p. in v. (do i even wrap it atp), degradation kink, daddy kink, lwk exhibition kink bc this happens on his office (rip to the furniture), bit dom!pedro + brat taming (again?? stop it mayor we get itttt omg) sprinkled here and there, fingering, squirting, creampie (everyone got invited to the party), reader is a loud-mouth (who's this divaaa), pedro's kind of an asshole and a perv in this one (ooc sorry), don't expect a second part this is literally just self-fulfilling filth without a storyline

word count: 6,451 words

side note: hello! this won the poll. am i the only one with this fantasy? pls tell me not; i feel insane looking some of my professors like a fucking starved drooling dog. giggling as we speak, bc the movie's got everybody insane between marvel renaissance, gif dump, new content, husband!pedro material and professor wet dreams out there... this piece of work is the last. hope you enjoy it, citizens! ps. jin of bts makes an appearance bc i love my seven men and i'm currently sick so he is sick too lmao (ah pero para escribir cochinadas ahí sí estás sana verdad)

It's your fault, really, for opening it in the middle of the class. It was a link, and you should've saved it for later, but then your thumb clicked into the blue underlined text your friend sent, and the reel popped up on your screen.

Your laugh erupted before you could cover your mouth, your professors' words hanging mid-air.

"Who did that?"

Everyone looks at you. Those sell-out, ass-kissing, boot-licking dicks.

His eyebrows furrow until they seem to melt into one, a big angry scowl on Mr. Pascal's face.

"Something you'd like to share with the class, Ms. Y/n?"

His voice reverberates on the class' walls, sounding even scarier.

You shake your head, tone quiet as you let out a small, "No"

"No?" he repeats your words, mocking your insecure demeanor, "because with that loud ass laugh, it seemed like something important enough to dissrupt my class. So please, share. You can't leave us wondering in here"

People cough and avoid your gaze while you wish the building would collapse and kill everyone inside, you included. Oh, that would be good. But no, you're stuck on a space that now feels too small and his persistent gaze cuts right through you.

"I-It's not important-" you stumble over your words.

"Can't speak anymore? All that boldness, suddenly gone"

"Mr. Pascal" you plead. God, you had never even begged for anything in your life. But there's always a first.

"I said share" his voice menacing, like he's got not an ounce of sympathy in that sturdy body that could fit plenty. No, wait. Focus!

He grows impatient at your lack of movement, practically growling his next words:

"I won't repeat myself"

"I-I I don't know how to-" you cut yourself off, cringing at how pathetic you sound. "It's a video, so-"

"Then cast your phone and project it" he clicks his tongue, clearly enjoying this. What a sadistic motherfucker.

"I-I can't-"

Can Jesus please hurry up and come fast? Even better, immediately take this one to hell, please.

"Aw, you poor thing" he tuts, mockingly. No one dares to speak, and you'll learn later that he's got his own reputation. For a reason.

"Don't worry, I'll help you myself"

Turns out, the fucker made you and your shaky legs stand up and walk the walk of shame. Then, you had to proyect the silly video, which in handsight, wasn't funny anymore. While some of your classmates laughed, that didn't lessen how humilliated you felt.

It had happened during your first year at university, on a subject you really couldn't care less and when you were still (practically) a baby; freshly eighteen. But now you were twenty, almost finishing your career, and the shaky insecure teenager was long gone, replaced by a secure (albeit a bit of a bitch), confident woman.

That had been your first encounter with professor Pascal.

You have to give him some credit: he is kind of the reason why you did a full 180 on your personality.

But life always comes back to bite you in the ass.

"What do you mean you're sick?" you scoff, "we were supposed to go to Dave's party tonight!"

Your friend lets out a cough that sounds borderline animalistic.

"First of all, don't come closer. I'll pass it to you" Jin speaks up, voice rough from the earlier death-threatening cough. "And second, do you think I care about a stupid party? I'm dying here"

"Don't be so dramatic" you roll your eyes.

"Hello? Didn't you hear that cough?!" he sounds offended, reinforcing the feeling by throwing one of his used tissues at you. You dodge his lame throw with a yuck. "I think you're devoid of empathy"

"Well, thank Mr. Pascal for that"

Jin wasn't your friend when that happened, but when you became buddies, he eventually came to know about your beef with the older man. Yes, beef, because after the Reel Deal (as you both have come to call it), he made your life impossible. If it weren't for your skills and intelligence, you'd probably fail his subject. Mr. Pascal gave you the hardest time ever: be it pairing you with the absolute worst students or making your assigments more difficult, for an "unknown" reason.

Eventually, even after such a traumatic experience and subject being way behind, it became a staple in your duo to bring him up everytime something negative happened or was mentioned.

("You're so funny!")

("Thanks, a professor pushing fifty made my life impossible when I was eighteen")

But here's an even funnier thing: for unknown reasons, Jin became his TA last semester. Probably he didn't know that you were friends, and that has to be the reason he's actually a decent human being towards the younger boy. I'm telling you, Jin would insist, the whole mean asshole shtick is propaganda!

"Talking about him..."

"Stop" you raise your hand dramatically, "enough bad news today"

"You can still go to the party, you know?" he giggles, earning another cough that practically leaves him voiceless. "Why do you insist on taking me? I don't know this people!"

Jin was two years older your senior.

"But it's not fun without you!" you insisted on dragging him around everywhere after you met because he tutored you. "Who will I bore with all my failed flirting attempts?"

"Thank God, not me" he ignores your pout. "Besides, wasn't like Marcos insisting you went with him? There's your chance!"

"But Marcos is boring..." you draw out, "and I need a man who makes me laugh"

"You can't really ask for that much in this economy"

Okay, here's the deal: there's another reason you can't let go of the Mr. Pascal subject, and it's not because of the beef. Hell, Jin can't know about this or he'll never let you live.

The answer is quite simple: as infuriating as he is, Mr. Pascal is hot. Like, middle-aged hot, with the greying hair and face marked by lines that tell time. If it wasn't for him you'd probably never discover your preference towards more... aged meat. You should be furious, and you were, but during all your petty arguments over topics or slides that didn't deserve to be reviewed for more than five minutes, the fire that ignited in your lower belly? You've never felt it before, and if that managed to get you more hot and bothered than a fresh boy ready to kiss your lips, neck and below? Well, that's a serious issue.

But it was his voice, that treated you with such vitriol, a deep and rich sound reserved just for you, or be it the way his auburn eyes seem to catch fire whenever you opened your mouth, dark forests burning in flames that threathened to reduce it all to ashes; yo were eager, anticipating the burn.

He saw your defiance, and instead of putting you in your place, he matched that wild rageful spirit of yours that refused to be tamed.

And that you liked, despite the history of hate between you.

"What about him?" you appear nonchalant, while retouching your makeup for the party.

"About him who?" Jin quips, "we just talked about two fine men-"

"The much older man"

A weird smirk forms across his lips. "Sure, of course"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. But it will be fun, nonetheless" he sits up straight from his previous surrendered position on the couch. "So, remember how I'm his TA, right?"

"Yes?" you pause. "Wait, if this is for me to help you check again more homeworks, no. I am not helping you read a hundred papers again for free"

"They weren't a hundred!" he barks. "Besides, it's not that"

"Then?" you press, not admiting how interested you were.

"Do you see my poor state?" you nod, not understaning where he's going. "Then, you're aware I'm not capacitated to do said task as of right now"

"I'm aware" you repeat, "what I'm not, is what does that have to do with me?" you resume your activity, going for your eyeliner. "So much mystery when you could've just said it in a pass"

"I need you to cover up for me"

The liquid eyeliner paints a line across half of your face. "What?!"

He laughs at your reaction, "You heard me"

You leave the mirror, now focusing your attention on him. "It's not April Fools yet, Jin. Heads up, it was a terrible prank"

Even if it made you hot to have such dynamic with your former IM professor, you weren't exactly keen on seeing him again. For you, he had turned into a memory slash fantasy at some point: an asshole that got your panties wet and pussy slick when you touched yourself at night, on behalf of all the dumb uni boys who couldn't reach that sweet spot of yours. What a dirty girl, his velvet voice on your head would say. Why are you touching yourself to your supposed foe, a much older guy? Fucking slut. Yeah, there was no way you'd go back to the real thing for the real him to taint the image you got off almost every night to, so he could say your name in that animosity that leaked with a barely contained rage and poorly disguised distate that left a bitter taste on your mouth, ego and self-steem on the ground. Because the truth is, no matter how much you argued back, he always won. You had just found your voice, but all efforts to bring him down seemed powerless, and he had won every single battle: even if he didn't have the last word, just with a look, he made you feel small, stupid and meaningless.

Nope. Not going back.

"And you have a terrible way of coping" he's quick to counter back. "Listen, it's not so bad. You just have to do meaningless tasks and pretend to be interested. Simple, right? Look, those extra credits could be useful, you know? And you excelled the class, y/n. Easy!"

"You're making it sound trouble-free as if the man doesn't hate me"

"He's definitely forgotten about it!" he waves his hand, dissmisively. "Probably jokes about it, like us!"

"Mr. Pascal doesn't seem the type of guy to have humor"

"Humor me, then" Jin sighs. "Do this for me, yes? When have I ever failed you?"

You wish for some sense to get into his skull. Had he forgotten every single anecdote?

"Think of all those times where I've taken you home, carried you drunk. Or the sad heart breaks I've been through with you, remember? Brought you ice cream and watched your favorite movies. Or when I used to tutor you? Or-"

"Enough of your emotional manipulation, Mr. Kim" you shake your head, dissapointed, all to avoid the quiet rage to settle in. "I thought better of you"

"It's for a week. Days if this pills do a miracle" his big black eyes look at you, pleading.

"Jin, you're not being a very good friend"

"It's just this one favor" he sighs. "Look, I can't loose this thing, okay? I get the credits I need to finally leave this shithole. If I don't show up, they'll hand it to someone else. You may not believe it, but it's very demanded"

People making lines to be emotionally abused by your former IM professor? Sure thing!

"Can't you tell someone, though? I'm sure they'll understand and you can go back once this cold is gone"

"I already did so, and they told me to show up or quit, due to the wait list of people applying for the position" you roll your eyes at your university's antics and their bullshit policies. "I don't trust anyone else to not fuck it up, but you. You'll just have to tell him about this minor inconvenience, and Mr. Pascal will understand. You know, I'm kind of his favorite guy in there..."

Great, just what you needed.

"Sorry to break it to you, but as soon as I walk through that door, all that pretty boy privilege would be gone"

"Please, y/n. Please"

"You'll never ask me any other favor?"

"No" he looks rather desperate; it's funny. "Hell, you can use the lake cabin for your birthday bash if you-"

"Deal"

Were you that easy to buy, huh? What does that say about you? Fucking ass sell-out.

Okay, but a birthday party in that all glass modern cabin with a deck and a jacuzzi does sound tempting. Who could be blamed? Not you, who will have to face her biggest foe in exchange for one wild bash.

You take a deep breath, imagining the lake water splashing and champagne on the deck (ugh, Jin's parents had a waterbike too. They were loaded), before knocking on his office. The door flings open, almost hitting you in the face, and there he is: Mr. Pascal, with his brown hair with white on the sides, loose curl over his face. Your fingers definitely don't itch to touch it, of course.

He's sporting a grumpy look (when doesn't he?), his big hands (you had forgotten how big they were) holding a bunch of papers (great, work!).

"Goddamn it, Jin. I was about to call you for standing me up, you know I hate when people don't tell me-"

He stops on his tracks, and that all too familiar scowl deepens his face.

"You"

Seethed with such venom, it's quite scary. Your legs tremble, yet your pussy clenches.

"Yes, me" you can't help but let out a little laugh at his antics. What did Jin said about him not remembering you? Well, can't be blamed; you weren't easy to forget.

His jaw clenches while looking down at you, but this time, you don't dare to flinch.

"What are you doing here?"

"See, Jin is my friend-"

He interrupts you, body frame resting on the door with a relaxed posture, but his shoulder looks tense.

"Oh, I liked him. Liked, as in past tense" he emphasizes, like a child throwing a tantrum. "How can a kid like him be friends with you?"

"We're best friends, thank you very much. As a matter of fact, I'm here as a favor" you hand him Jin's written apology, that may have one or two sneezes over it. "He's sick, and I'll cover him for a week, just so he doesn't loose the position. Said you would understand"

"I do" he replies on an instant, "you I don't"

"I passed your subject. With honors, even after you made my life impossible" you reply. "I'm the best candidate, face it"

He's rendered speechless for a moment, before he bites back:

"What makes you think I won't do it again?"

Now it's you who doesn't know what to say. It's infuriating how he still keeps winning.

"That's right" a wicked smile adorns his face. "Stay and find out"

Boy, don't you love a challenge?

So you stayed, much to his surprise. The bastard probably thought you were still the same scaredy mouse from first year.

Oh, it was delicious the way his whole face fell at your entrance next morning, how he quickly replaced it and introduced you in a clipped tone.

"Where's Jin?" a girl sitting in the front row had asked, more students joining to ask for his absence. You wonder if your friend's popularity stems from his brain or looks.

"He's sick" you answered. "But don't worry, he'll be back soon"

"Thank God" Mr. Pascal voices out loud.

You shoot him a look. He wasn't joking about not making it easy, was he?

"Oh, I didn't take you as a man of faith, Mr. Pascal, but you're right. It's important to thank our Lord everyday. So, thank Him for this week where I get to offer my suffering. In reward" you turn to face him, all the class silent as they take in your weird exchange, the atmosphere tense, "I'll never see your face again"

This time, you weren't going down without a fight.

"We'll see about that"

There it was: the fire to your gasoline.

So you pushed back, and argued everytime you disagreed, things that weren't part of your work but you still did because well, if he was still hellbent on making you suffer, you weren't going to make it easy for him this time.

If students argued against him, you took their side; even if just one did, you had their back.

You finished grading, but when returning the papers, you'd let them fall with a heavy thud over his desk, not even daring to look back.

At the time he'd talk to you, you wouldn't answer, instead just doing so, but no words to be uttered his way, as if he wasn't worth the effort. Not even a clipped okay.

And you enjoyed this; savored how he'd take every one of your petty actions with his full chest, eyebrows furrowed and face red in anger, but never answering, just silent, like deep in thought, a cold and calculated look overtaking his brown eyes.

Then the veins on his neck would pop as the ones of his tight white-knuckled grip on his mug. He'd speak up, and his voice had your legs shaking for some friction, wet spots now more often on your lingerie.

That he didn't know.

All he did was you were now more than a pebble on his shoe: a huge fucking stone, going down the hill, ready to squash him.

But boy, didn't he love a challenge?

It's Friday, aka last day of Torture Week.

You drop the quizzes for next Monday on his desk with the same harsh movement you had done all week.

"And it's over" you announce, papers plopping next to him, who is writing something. Mr. Pascal's hand moves, his L much longer than it should be. He looks up at you, annoyed, but his eyes flash with a hint of amusement.

"I see you can talk"

"Well, you already know me, Mr. Pascal. So you should be aware of what I can do"

"Love if you'd enlighten me"

He leans back on his chair, arms resting behind his head. It's hard not to take a brief glance to the flexing muscles, or how he's rolled up his sleeves, arms bulking up with the action, the fabric tense. It's hot in here. Wait, or has it gotten hot? Your face feels red, and when he catches your lingering gaze, he smiles devilishly.

"Like what you see, Ms. Y/n?"

No. You refuse to let him win this again, so close to the end.

"The release from prison?" you regain your posture, "very much"

"You may be a loud-mouthed brat, always knowin' what to say. I'll give that to you" he props himself to the front, elbows now resting on the desk as his eyes scan yours with a shade of dark covering them. "But a good liar you ain't"

You try to remain still, face emotionless, but your professor is a man of experience; an expert on his field. He who investigates, who has majored to be able to notice every small detail that can contribute to a hypothesis, has now formulated his.

You want this as much as he wants to.

You, with your wobbly legs and nervous eyes, glancing up at him with a hungry gaze that matches his own, despite your angry posture and irritated tone. You, that picked up petty arguments just to rile him up, because you liked the command for power on his voice. You like this, didn't you? Feeling small and weak, fangs pointy, just barely gracing the skin; the edge what set your skin on fire.

He isn't one to hold grudges (he's just mean all the time), but Pedro is willing to show you he hasn't forgotten about the years, and he'll be more than willing to fuck that bitchy attitude out of you.

"Hello?" you snap your fingers in front of him, "are you there?"

He snaps back to reality, your face covering his vision. In his position, he gets rewarded with a delicious peak at your breasts and the nude lingerine hiding them. He can imagine the perked nipples and the rosy plush skin he'd love to trace his tongue with, because even when you speak in a harsh voice, your eyes speak another thing. Fuck, he thinks he can even smell your arousal.

"I was talking to you" you don't even give him room to reply; snotty ass. "Said I was already leaving"

He thinks of himself as merciful. So he stands up, your bodies barely brushing against each other for a second, before he's opening the door, towering over you. He's so close, you can see the grey hairs mixed with the brown ones on his beard and mustache. God, you can smell him: coffee, cigarrettes, sandalwood and leather.

"You're free, Ms. Y/n" he follows your line of joke from before. "Just, humor me with one last thing"

You glance over at the clock above his desk. It's barely noon.

"Yes?" as dry as possible.

"Why did you accept?"

It's a simple question, really, but it manages to catch you off guard.

His tone is so different, maybe that's why: it's low, impossibly low. For less attentive people, it could even pass as a growl. But you hear, the amusement and dare laced within the velvety tone.

"Because I'm a good friend" you manage to speak, his body caging your smaller frame against the door.

This is ridiculous. You can leave at any time. Hello? Have your legs not gotten the memo?

"I didn't think you were capable of good things"

You huff, annoyed. "Well, I passed your subject, didn't I?"

He clicks his tongue.

"Many before you, and more after you have. Doesn't make you special, y/n"

Your name alone leaves a savory and toxic sweetness on his tongue.

"But how many of those you remember?" Mr. Pascal shots up an eyebrow, confused. "Tell me, how many can you name? That's right. I changed your life, whether you like it or not"

He's quick to reply. "Bullshit"

"Bullshit" you mock his angry tone, "but you recognized me the moment you opened the door. It didn't even take you seconds, hell, you hadn't even fully seen me and you knew who I was. Doesn't take a great investigator to figure it out, does it? So I take you missed me"

He can't believe your fucking mouth.

But then Pedro's remembering the way his pants tightened when you started to stand up to him, getting even worse when he still managed to shut you up. Fuck, the way you had smirked when you approved his subject during your last project delivery. He let you, because well, you had earned it: for the way your image had been the perfect companion for his hand pistoning his cock will full force, thinking of that loud mouth of yours gagged with it. Or when you walked past him in the hallways, wrapped in your own little bubble, your carefree laugh erupting and bouncing off the walls, tickling every hair of his body.

Part of him had accepted Jin to be his TA if that meant having a piece of you, even if a small connection, to you. Did you think he wouldn't know? That he wouldn't see you walking by in those small skirts that rode over when you bent? He noticed you; after all, you were in the same place most of your day.

You had excelled his subject after all, hadn't you?

So of course you'd notice his stare lingering in your back like a hand over your ass. How his eyes would dart to the skirts you wore on purpose, attentive to the moment you'd drop a pen on accident and your panties would be on sight, a wet spot in the middle you hadn't even noticed that smelled. Fuck, and wasn't it sweet?

You really feel like you have won this, don't you?

"Miss you?" Pedro hisses the words out. "I didn't miss you. What I think is happenin', is that me missing you is what you want"

"And I think you're repeating the same words and fumbling thoughts because you're a big egocentric prideful asshole who can't admit he's got the hots for his younger student"

"God. Don't you have such a filthy mouth, baby?"

Before he can register and you've fully let the nickname sink, your hand slaps his face with a potent movement that reverberates across his office's walls.

"You're a fucking piece of work, Mr. Pascal" but instead of being offended (or you don't know, fight back?), he remains silent. "You dirty old spoiled prick. Think I would never fight you back? That you can get away with whatever this is?"

"Whatever this is?" he chuckles, a sound rumbling deep from his chest. "Well, pretty girl, ain't you started this?"

He looms over you, hot breath carressing your face softly.

"Me? Unbelievable" you scoff. "You're one to talk, humiliating a poor freshman"

"Poor? You were distracted, in my class! Did your parents never teach you manners?!" his words leave droplets of spit that land in your face. "I had to put your stupid ass in place; that'll teach you something"

"Like what?" you taunt, recklessly, chest up and down with uneven breaths.

"I see it didn't work" his body language does an immediate switch. You remember a predator ready to strike their prey. "Maybe I should've tried harder"

His eyes do a wild dance over your body as so do yours.

Lip. Eyes. Skin. Cleavage. His tight pants. Biceps. Legs. Hair.

Before you can register, he's got you pinned against his desk, door closed in a loud move. There's a click sound somewhere in between, but you're too busy feeling his big hands grabbing your face roughly, as if he wants to consume your skin and feel your very bones on his calloused tips.

His lips are impossibly wet and eager, hands needily gropping your body. He pushes all his weight over you as he deepens the kiss, his tongue now inside your mouth, making you falter.

You let out a breathy moan when your back hits the desk, the wood digging your skin, but he swallows it whole, making it impossible for you to talk.

"Mmph-"

"Mmph?" he mocks between kisses, not giving you the chance to take a breath, or maybe he was scared you would get the time to think and would push him away. "Just my mouth got you all worked up, baby? Can't even speak"

Your fingers run through his hair for support, curls between your fingers. They felt soft, like they were meant to be combed through over and over again. He dives his head in your neck, hot mouth wet with its trail of kisses, making you squirm.

"I see" his breath ghosts over your reddened skin, "you wanted this just as much, don't you? This boys aren't enough for you?"

Every hair on your body prickles, his mouth claiming every spot he could, bites and hickeys all over your skin. You whine, pouting your lips, missing his already.

"It's okay, baby" he laughs, "just gotta show them who's enough for you" he grunts, "a man"

Mr. Pascal takes off your shirt, well, basically rips the poor thing, his hands relieved to finally touch your breasts. He roughly grabs one of them, and you bite your lip so hard, you almost feel the bitter metallic taste in your mouth. He lowers himself, despite his aching joints, to play with your hardened nipples, lapping them with his warm tongue, sucking and swirling until they turn swollen.

Your hand finds its way to his formal pants, fingers gracing over the fabric, feeling his cock straining against it. Just like you imagined it: big, like his presence. If it could, your pussy would jump in excitement, realistically just throbbing and leaking.

You untie his belt and buttons so you can begin to rub over his boxers. You can feel him trying to meet your touches, grinding onto your palm. He groans, deeply, enjoying your hungry stare, steady beat, parted lips and wet cunt.

He bucks his hips against you, propping himself on the wall behind his desk, which had moved from its original position thanks to the mayhem.

"You clearly don't know what you got yourself into, baby. But don't worry, I ain't letting you go just yet"

He pulls the skirt up, revealing the damp panties and mess between your legs. He licks his lips before rough digits find your wet folds. His fingers carress your impossibly tight walls, coating them with your slick.

"So fucking tight" he groans against your collarbones, "thought of yourself as uptight but I can fucking smell you dripping, you dirty slut. Could tell you loved provoking me becayse that's the only way your snotty ass can get off"

"F-fuck you, Mr. Pascal" you manage to choke out.

"Where are your manners? After how I've rewarded your big mouth, you bitch" he takes off your panties with skilled practice, the piece falling to the floor with a weak sound. Your bare cunt makes you shiver. "You think you're smart, baby? You think you can play these games and face no consequences at all?" he tuts. "No, Ms. Y/n, you know I hate wastin' my time, so be a good girl and don't make this harder for you, get that?"

You whine at his words, but refuse to shut your mouth.

"Oh, I'm smart" you laugh, "smart enough to have you on your knees for me"

An ugly grin spreads across his features.

"I will never bend for a bratty pretentious slut like you" he grips your hair with force, leaving your neck exposed, "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, stupid cock hungry whore. You wanted my attention? It's all yours"

Then, with a low, almost feral growl, he grabs your hips and hoists you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He sweeps the papers and books onto the floor with a clatter, setting you down on the edge.

"You better behave, baby" Mr. Pascal bites your lower lip, "don't want people to know what we're doing in here, do you? Or would you want them to know just how much of a slut you are, spread on my desk as your cunt drips for me?"

He steps between your legs, pushing them further apart, his hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave bruises. He leans in, his face inches from yours, voice low in a threatening rasp.

"I'll behave, I promise" mind in blank.

"No loud mouth bitchy stuck up attitude?"

You free his cock, hands scouting his shaft, his base, and balls. You fondled them while his fingers lingered closer to your pussy.

"No"

"This is what you wanted, isn't it? To be fucked stupid and used for my pleasure? Well, get ready, because I'm not going to stop until I've had my fill of this sweet little cunt"

He savors at the sight of your glistening folds.

"Let me-"

He laughs, seeing how you desire to guide his cock towards your entrance.

"Eager, little one?" he teases.

"Yes" you whimper, "I need you so badly, papi"

Your plea mixed with Spanish sends him on edge. His eyes darken with a primal, almost feral hunger at your desperate plea.

His voice is strained, rough with barely restrained lust.

"Fuck, you needy little thing. You want to take my dick until this desk breaks?"

He rubs the swollen head of his dick against your dripping slit, coating it in your arousal. Then, with one powerful thrust, he slams into you, burying himself to the hilt in your tight, hot cunt.

"So tight" he groans, starting to move and setting a brutal pace from the very beginning. The desk shakes and creaks beneath you with each forceful thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the empty office. He punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust, grinding his pelvis against your clit. He sets a relentless, punishing rhythm, determined to fuck you into oblivion.

It's a goddamn view in here: him above you, droplets of sweat falling to your face, pristine hair now disheveled.

At this point, you were clenching so hard it hurt, walls fluttering around his massive girth. But he's greedy, and he's pushing himself deeper and deeper.

"Runnin' your mouth but now all quiet as you take all of me, hungry greedy whore" he digs his fingers into your cheeks harshly, but you find pleasure in the sting the pain causes. "Bet this is all you been thinking since you started talking back, huh? Don't worry, daddy's got you"

Surprisingly, he leans down, capturing your mouth in a dominating kiss, tongue invading your mouth. His hand comes up to wrap around your throat, squeezing lightly, a silent reminder of who you belong to.

"God. You're wet everywhere, baby"

His sweaty chest presses itself onto your tits as he forced his cock deeper within you, the plaid shirt sticking with sweat to his ablazed body, temperature high.

"T-the desk" you protest numbly; mind-fucked.

And oh, boy, doesn't he enjoy this view? Your fluttering eyelids, hazy eyes and trembling body.

So he keeps fucking you: pounding into you, rolling his hips skillfully, taking up all the space within you.

"I don't give a damn fuck about the desk, Ms. Y/n. I'm gonna fuck that attitude of yours until all you know is my name" he leans down, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of your neck, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. His hands grip your hips with bruising force, pulling you harder against him with each violent thrust. "Gonna break the desk, hell, fuck you on the floor if necessary, but you ain't leaving this office until my cum drips from your legs and everyone knows your tight little cunt is mine"

The desk groans and wobbles beneath you, the legs scraping against the floor as Pedro fucks you with wild abandon. The sound of your moans and the crude, wet slap of skin on skin echoes obscenely in the room.

His pubic bone grinds against your clit with each thrust, the rough friction sending jolts of electric pleasure shooting up your spine. His cock hits that perfect spot inside you, the one that makes your toes curl and your back arch off the desk.

He feels your walls starting to flutter around him, your body tensing as your orgasm approaches. Mr. Pascal leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a dark, intimate rasp.

"Why don't you be a good girl and tell daddy how good he's making you feel? Show me and everyone else what a desperate little slut you are, waiting for me to fill you up nicely with my seed"

He makes out of you a loud mess, a series of sweet sounds falling from your lips. You clench and he twitches, his digits holding your waist, keeping you in place for him.

"Good girl" he praises, "now you're gonna take it all, milk me dry, you greedy cocksleeve"

His thrusts become erratic and sloppier. The older man can feel your walls starting to flutter around him, body tensing as your orgasm approaches. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a dark, intimate rasp.

"Will you be a good girl?"

"Yes!" you cry out, "don't stop!"

You hated this humilliation, how easy it is for him to fuck you with his big cock. You fucking hated him. But didn't he make you feel so good.

"Then come on my cock, bitch"

You didn't think it was capable, no, but you did. A first, another first when it came to Mr. Pascal.

You squirt. You fucking squirted.

Pedro lets out a feral roar of triumph when your pussy spasms around his pistoning cock, your release gushing out and soaking his dick and the desk, papers and shit beneath you (no, not the quizzes! You had printed them this morning). He savors the way you throw your head back, eyes rolling until they turn white on your fucked-out face.

"Such a sweet cunt, baby" he praises. "Milk me dry, come on"

Your slick walls milking him dry pushes him over the edge, clenching around him, and he knew it was over. He snaps, arching his back as he roughly moans. With one final, brutal thrust, he buries himself balls-deep inside you, his cock throbbing and pulsing as he starts to come. Thick, scorching ropes of cum paint your insides, flooding your womb with his potent seed, still pushing the remnants inside when he grinds against you, his pelvis pressed tight to yours as he rides out the waves of his intense orgasm. His grip on your hips tightens, fingermarks surely to be left in the soft flesh as he holds you in place, ensuring you take every last drop of his release.

"That's it, pretty baby. Can't even speak, can you?" he captures your mouth in a deep, dominating kiss. Like he owns you. "As you can see, I'm a man of my word"

He breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he pants softly. His eyes, when they meet yours, are dark and intense, filled with a primal, almost feral satisfaction.

It's humilliating, really, how your lips search for more. You need him, badly, despite how shit he treats you and how wrong all of this is. Is this a win or a loose?

"Good girl" he repeats, his sweaty forehead clashing against yours. The desk creaks yet again. You love when he praises you, and you whine on instintic, making him laugh. "Learned your place just yet? Listen carefully, Ms. Y/n: no matter what you do or say, I'll always win, get it? And you'll be nothing but a needy uptight slut who begs for my attention and cock"

He pulls out of you slowly, his softening dick slipping from your well-used hole with a gush of their combined releases. He tucks himself away, doing up his pants with quick, efficient movements. His thumb brushes over your lower lip, smearing a streak of his cum across it.

"Go on. Taste it, and tell me how it feels"

Your tongue does a lazy movement, making your lips moist thanks to the saliva and his cum, like a fucking gloss. You shouldn't enjoy this, really, but your body shivers when you feel the taste of him going down your throat as you swallow.

"Good" you manage to speak, salt on the tip of your tongue.

"Good" he repeats, voice low and menacing, "because we're just getting started"

#dilfistwrites #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #pedro x reader #pedro pascal fluff #professor pedro #professor kink #reed richards #the fantastic four: first steps

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harunayuuka2060 · 1 day ago

Text

*The dorm leaders woke up confused; staring at Kalim's empty bed.*

Leona: That dumb bastard— Did he go out again?

Riddle: We should go search for him right away!

Malleus: Hold on. I hear a commotion outside.

"Poor thing—he was killed before the hunt."

"We should have seen it coming. He was foolish."

"I wonder if they’ll let us preserve his body."

"Don’t even think about it. He’s been getting on everyone’s nerves. I’m sure it’s already been mutilated by now."

The dorm leaders: ...

Riddle: *was about to rush outside when Leona grabbed him*

Riddle: Let go of me, Leona-senpai!

Leona: What? Do you want to follow him to his grave?

Riddle: ...

Vil: ...

Vil: We should call the fake Prefect to find out what happened.

Malleus: There's no need.

MC(?): *opens the door to the room*

MC(?): I'm here to deliver the unfortunate news of your friend's passing.

Idia: You... I know you're on our side. Why didn’t you do anything to help him?

MC(?): He violated the rules.

Riddle: THAT'S ALL YOU COULD SAY?!

Azul: Riddle!

Riddle: *has grabbed them by the collar* Did you just stand by and watch while he was being killed?!

MC(?): I understand... your sadness...

Azul: Riddle! *pulling him away from them*

Riddle: LET ME GO, AZUUUL!!!

MC(?): ...

Malleus: You should leave now.

MC(?): I'm sorry that it has come to this. *they said as they left the room*

*Riddle continued to cry over Kalim's death while Azul tried to comfort him. The rest of the dorm leaders remained silent.*

Professor Trein(?): *staring at MC(?)*

Professor Trein(?): It must have been difficult.

MC(?): What are you trying to say?

Professor Trein(?): You killed him.

MC(?): ...

Professor Trein(?): Soon, it will cause an imbalance. You knew that, didn’t you?

MC(?): ...

MC(?): I'm fortunate... that his presence isn't as significant as the others.

Professor Trein(?): Even so, this should be the first and last time. If you try to intervene again, their patience will run out.

MC(?): Yes... I appreciate your concern.

Leona(?): Look at them. Is his death that big of a deal? *chuckles*

Vil(?): Shouldn't they feel relieved that a heavy burden has been lifted off their shoulders? I don't understand the need to mourn.

Malleus: We need to see the body.

Leona(?): Body? Hmm... That would be hard... *smirks* Unless you enjoy solving puzzles, you're free to collect his parts.

Malleus: *glares at him*

Leona(?): *chuckles*

Idia: Malleus... Please calm down.

Malleus: ...

Malleus: If you tell me the location, I'll go and collect them myself.

Leona(?) and Vil(?): ...

Leona(?): Huh. Very well.

Vil(?): Leona—

Leona(?): It's fine. He wants the scraps. Let him.

Azul: I hate to admit it, but this place is unexpectedly decent.

Idia: ...

Idia: Hey, Malleus. Have you noticed something?

Malleus: Yes.

Leona: What are you two whispering about?

Malleus: The doppelgangers, they didn't follow us here.

Vil: You're right.

Riddle: I could see Kalim from a distance...

Leona: Ha... Did someone sew him back up?

Vil: Leona.

Malleus: ...

Malleus: *approaches the corpse*

Malleus: ...

Malleus: Rosehearts, come here.

Riddle: Malleus-senpai?

Malleus: There is something you need to see.

Riddle: ...

Riddle: *comes over*

Malleus: Do you notice anything?

Riddle: ...

Malleus: Look closely.

Riddle: ...

Malleus: *sigh* This is not Al Asim.

Riddle: Huh?

Leona: What?

Vil: What's going on?

Leona: The lizard bastard, he's saying that it's not Kalim.

The rest of the dorm leaders: ...

Riddle: Malleus-senpai, are you saying...

Malleus: *smiles* We've been tricked.

The rest of them: !!!

Kalim: MC, are you sure it's okay for me to leave alone? Won't you get punished?

MC(?): *has led him to the cave Jamil(?) told them last time*

MC(?): ...

MC(?): You are the weakest in your group.

Kalim: Haha... Sorry. I think that's why you saved me from him.

Kalim: But if you could fight, why have you been allowing them to treat you like that?

MC(?): ...

MC(?): Here. Leave the key.

Kalim: Okay.

MC(?): ...

MC(?): The others will follow suit... I just need more time for that to happen.

Kalim: ...

Kalim: *smiles* *hugs MC*

MC(?): !!!

Kalim: I... I will also call for help!

MC(?): ...

MC(?): Please be on your way.

Kalim: Hm! Take care of the others for me!

MC(?): ...

MC(?): I will try my best.

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst kalim #twst dorm leaders #twst school of psychopaths

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arc-misadventures · 3 days ago

Note

The Beach: What about Glynda?

The Beach: G

Jaune: Ahh... This is nice...

Jaune: Just floating by in the sea, basking in the warm summer light...

: It's quite nice isn't it?

Jaune: Yeah, I've been spending most of my time at the beach around woman, I haven't been spending any time in the water.

: Oh? But, wouldn't a young man such as yourself wouldn't be enjoying himself surrounded by beautiful woman in bikinis?

Jaune: Sometimes... Sure being around hot woman in bikinis is fantastic. But, learning about their weird kinks, and learning how I am the focal point of all their kinks. That's a little... uncomfortable...

: We're all of them that... uncomfortable~?

Jaune: Well... I had a bunch of milfs come on to me...

: Ohh~! A bunch of milfs~? I would ask you how that went, but your... big friend tells me all that I need to know~!

Jaune: Big? Oh shi-Brereeralal?!

(Splash!)

Jaune: Bahh?! Cough-cough-cough!)

: Oh?! Are you alright, Jaune?!

Jaune: I'm... (Cough) I'm alright... Just a little water up my nose.

: I'm sorry, did I startle you by pointing out your... big friend?

Jaune: Well, It's a bit embarrassing for any guy to be caught with an erection, especially in front of... Ms. Goodwitch!?

Glynda: Hello, Jaune~!

Jaune: D-D-Did I just tell you all those things?!

Glynda: You did.

Jaune: I thought I was talking to myself! I had no idea a siren was answering me...?!

Glynda: Oh~! Calling me a siren? You're such a charmer, Jaune~!

Jaune: It's easy when I'm talking with a master piece such as yourself.

Glynda: Oh my, where did this silver tongue of yours come from~?

Jaune: Well, I've developed some confidence in myself after dealing with certain woman...

Glynda: The milfs~?

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Yeah... T-The milfs...

Glynda: So, Jaune since I have you all to myself, care to hear from an old lady what her kinks are~?

Jaune: No.

Glynda: What?! Why not, you hear all those horny teenagers kinks, why not me?

Jaune: Because I see an mature, elegant woman before me, not some old lady.

Glynda: Oh? Oh~! I'm starting to think I have a thing for being flirted with now~!

Jaune: I am to please.

Glynda: Now then, care to hear me out?

Jaune: As you wish, my Lady.

Glynda: Charmer~! No this may not surprise you, but I have a thing for teacher/student.

Jaune: Teacher/student? That's a surprise, isn't the student that has fantasies about their teacher, not the other way around?

Glynda: Well yes, that generally how things usually go. But, when having dozens of students every year fantasizing about you, one can't help, but wonder what the hype is all about. So, I did some research, and well... I found the appeal in it all~!

Jaune: Appeal?

Glynda: Just imagine it, some young stud seducing their teacher. Seducing them because they're a hot piece of ass, and they want to take a bite out of it~!

Jaune: B-B-Bite...?

Glynda: The young stallion's grade is falling so they ask their teacher for some make up courses so their teacher offers them a deal, one she knows they'll both enjoy~!

Jaune: E-Enjoy...?

Glynda: Another little fantasy is that the student finds some blackmail on their teacher, and in order to silence that student, she silences herself with his searing hot rod in her mouth~!

Jaune: M-Mouth...?!

Glynda: But, above all, I want to be taken on my desk. I want this young sexy stud to ravage me on top of my desk, to have my bare bosom bousing, and heaving on the desk as he thrusted into me, roughly over, and over again~!

Jaune: A-Again...?!

Glynda: But, do you know what makes it all the more sweeter~?

Jaune: N-N-No...

Glynda: If we get caught~!

Jaune: Caught...?

Glynda: Some young girl, comes in for asking help with an assignment, and catches us in the act, and we silence her by shoving your hot rod down her mouth until you unload in her~! Now does that sound oh so intoxicating~?

Jaune: N-No... that doesn't sound that... interesting...

Glynda: Oh~? But, your big friend here says otherwise~?

Jaune: Ahh-haha?!

Glynda: Come on, Jaune~! Your, Sensei wants to have some fun~! If you say yes, I'll bump up your grade~!

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Can I just say one thing, Glynda?

Glynda: Yes?

Jaune: One of my kinks, is a sexy woman in a one piece swimsuit.

Glynda: A one piece swimsuit?

Jaune: A one piece shows off a woman's body flawlessly, it hints, and teases at everything. So, tell me, Glynda. Can this student of yours seduce his teacher who he just stumbled upon at the beach dressed in a sexy one piece swimsuit?

Jaune: What do you say...

Glynda: Ohhh~?

Jaune: Sensei~?

Glynda: You certainly know how to give a lady one hell of an offer don't you, Mr. Arc~!

Jaune: Only for you, Sensei~!

///

Here you go, @lar-mx

I might have gone a little far with this one. But, I was given a prompt with one of my favoutire ships, and in a one piece swimsuit. I can't help it.

#rwby #jaune arc #glynda goodwitch #jaune x glynda #glynda x jaune #rwby arcwitch

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time-traveller-archives · 2 days ago

Text

So true, I always wonder why though? Is it a search of human validation or just our self doubt of not being able to understand our pain through our eyes? Maybe we all need someone to look out for us, to feel we are looked out for. To hope that someone is waiting to see us the next morning. Maybe that's what kept our day moving, idk. Maybe life is a blessing when someone's around. Maybe that's all it is. Maybe I wanted more than love, care or affection. I wanted a 'me' to shine out there for me, so that 'that me', could give back the love everyone who loved me deserved, not the love the present 'me' who was broken squeezing herself in corners and was nothing in front of her future me. I used to think it was the future me, who could give it all back. Not me, the me that existed even if she loved, she was broken, there was something wrong with her. So I crafted that me, worked hard to erase the present 'me' so I could be the new 'me' all for the people I loved and cared about the most. The future 'me' was waste of time though for the present 'me'. I would waste so much time thinking how she should walk, how she should move, who she should be, so that everyone around me and mostly myself would feel some pride in 'me' not me.

Seems like now, there's no future 'me', its just goals and ambitions, but now goals and ambitions don't feel passionate anymore, there's no zest of changing yourself every single day, it just feels like there was no point in being a person of service to others, there was a point in being so detached. There's no one left to serve, even if there's someone. Why should I? Should I go help, why though? Is there any reward or sense of happiness I will get with that, maybe, but how many skeletons do you think they have in their closets, is it worth being a helper forever, whose validation is it that Iam suffering so much for. Is there any love in it, in helping others, yes there is, there is love for humanity, not lizards, love for people, not a bunch of thieves who SA humans and burn them out on a regular basis. Not a bunch of disgusting people who instead of learning to live a good and humble life, who could have taught so much, decide to obliterate us through SA,pedophilia and what not? Is this what I am here for, on this Earth, why am i here? Am I not here to serve for the upliftment of souls, creation of new ideas and philosophies for helping the inquisitive minds grow, what is it I am here for? To see a bunch of greedy, selfish, pedos take powerful position and enjoy abusing others. What do I bring to this plate? Cause I have brought a lot, accepted a lot, tried to understand a lot more than I could have ever believed I could have ever done. More than the expectations of shit face people around me and their imposed beliefs on me and my benevolence. Then why? what have I done wrong?

Why should I stay stuck with the most disgusting people, out of all other humans and animals and other species. What am I here to do? Just suffer in their hands. Why? Just why am I here? Who brought me here to do this place? What am I doing here? How am I thriving? Why am I thriving? This is disgusting, I need my shell, my shell where everything is alright, nothing has changed, nobody has gone, where the hell is that dream, that future, those people I envisioned to see in my future. This is the most degrading I have ever been, and Iam trying so hard to match the vibe with my life that now my life is falling apart but not visibly falling apart. Just why? I hate this all this materialistic big room, big space, big bed, big floors, I needed this facility, yes but for why? Why Just why do I do this to myself? Why do I even need all these. I don't even need that extra space in the room, maybe I do. But why do I need this when all i wanna do is shrink, shrink and die. I'm tired I'm tired of being this and being 'her' that her who got it to Bangalore. I still can't believe its me. This opportunity is too big for me, I always knew it, I can't do it, I just can't, its too much. Why are we here? Why should I do this? Why do I this? Why did I start this in the first place? Who is this all for? Who was it all for? Was it me, no no way, it was me, it wasn't me, I didn't want her, I never knew this, could catch these stars, could have ever imagined expected or fallen for these stars. Then why stars, why are they here? They look all shiny and gleamy but its all play. They are rotten from inside. There's no way this college is this good. There's no way I'm in Bangalore. There's no way everything is going right in my life for the first time without any intervention, without somebody's help. How am I living this? How do I do this? Iam not capable of such power. I have never been. Then how do I do this? Where do I go from here? Who is it out there to meet me? Where do I take this from here? How just how, do I imagine, do I make it big. Does it grow? Does it go bigger than this? Am I there yet? Am I in my life yet? Where is it going? How do I row ? Is there it there? Can I do it again? And again? Will I make it there? Wherever it is there? Where is it? Can I go

“People start to heal the moment they feel heard.”

— Cheryl Richardson

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jd-loves-fiction · 3 days ago

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐫

🌑 got lost in the sauce again... The horny sauce this time😭 I love this menace so much it's not funny and the amount of fics for him is honestly criminal so I'm fixing it myself ENJOY!!! :)

⚠️: Spoilers for the Wardance quests, oral sex (m!receiving), not beta read

The cunning fox is never far. Even blinded he finds a way to get to you no matter where you’ve moved – you suspect it has something to do with those exceedingly sharp senses.

“Isn't it a bit early to be cooking?” Jiaoqiu questions softly as he enters the kitchen, hands gravitating to your waist like metal to a magnet, edging under your shirt to drag his nails over your skin. Keeping the knife in your hand steady is a harder task than he ever made it seem when he was the one doing the cooking, “This is just prep, plus aren't you hungry?”

He hums lowly right by your ear, sending shivers down your spine while his ear flicks against your cheek. By the way he sneaks a nail beneath your waistband you know his intentions are anything but innocent. Though you have been neglecting him…

Just as the thought of giving in to him forms in your distracted mind, the bandages still wrapped around your lover’s chest brush against the back of your arms, “You should still be resting.”

He groans in protest, nose burying even deeper into the side of your neck as his hips push lightly against yours while the shadow of his tail flicks in irritation, “Not tired and I’m no cub, no need to treat me like one.”

You sigh heavily, putting the knife down to avoid an accident. The wounds have been closing steadily for some time now and given Foxian's accelerated healing he should be safe to start moving around more, but there’s also the issue of his vision. The last thing you want is to jump right into it like before and overwhelm his senses when he’s still getting used to them again.

The sharp sting of a fang nibbling your ear rips you away from such thoughts, as intended, “Come on, I miss you so much, dear.” he purrs it in that way he knows gets you weak in the knees and bending to his will most of the time. Just not today.

“Jiaoqiu, you know we can't. No matter how much I want to.” You spare a fleeting thought to the fact that the irresponsible one in this situation is the healer out of the two of you.

Said healer goes quiet for a second, huffing in frustration before dropping his head onto your shoulder and that should be it. You think he’s given up – not a chance.

He grumbles to himself as he peels his chest away from your back, teasingly brushing his fluffy tail along your back as he turns. Soft steps are cut off by the loud sound of Jiaoqiu hitting a chair with his shin after misjudging the distance. He raises his hand just as you go to ask if he’s alright, as if feeling your eyes on him.

The pink-haired Foxian sits heavily, legs spread in what would seem like relaxation if not for the hard-on clearly visible beneath the fabric of his loose pants, chest bound with (thankfully) clean bandages.

He opens his eyes to reveal that mesmerizing golden gaze, even though it does not change the fact that he cannot see – he knows what it does to you, “I guess I’ll just get off all by myself.”

Your breath hitches – you know he hears it with how his ear twitches and his lips shift into a pleased smirk, lithe hand drifting purposely slow down his own body. Eyes lingering on his bandages and remembering the awful scars beneath, your hesitation persists, even as you abandon your cooking to watch him.

His hand slips underneath the waistband of his pants as he breathes heavy. All you see is the suggestion of what he’s doing beneath the fabric, neck muscles twitching and tensing as he grips his cock.

Shit. Your self-control is not strong enough for this, “Jiaoqiu…”

“W-What? You can keep cooking, dear. I hope I’m not distracting y-you.” He stutters, sweat sliding down his long neck from where his hair sticks to his skin while his hand speeds up. A sharp canine digs into his plush bottom lip and stars you wish that was you.

“For a healer, you’re being very irresponsible,” You scold, hands gripping the cold counter behind you, “As a healer, denying yourself the satisfaction you crave is much more d-detrimental.”

Him and his clever comebacks. You know full well that the two cannot compare, but you’re past caring at this point. Turning your head up to the ceiling you take a deep steadying breath, weighing your options once more, “Baby, please…”

Fuck it, “You’re a terrible influence, you know that?” he smirks like he’s got you exactly where he wants you, knowing you’re finally giving into him.

Your steps are large and hurried as you make your way to him, kneeling in between his legs without hesitation and lightly pushing his hand away from himself, all while he grins infuriatingly pretty, tail curling from side to side in anticipation.

Taking his cock out into the open air, he takes a deep, steadying breath through his teeth, hands gripping the back of his chair to ground himself. You just hope he won't regret this immediately.

But you can't deny that you’ve missed this – missed him. Your mind has been so crowded with concern and desperation that you haven't even allowed yourself to think of him in such a way for a while now. No wonder he’s feeling this needy, and the fact that you basically have to help him to do every little thing now surely isn't helping his case. You can't imagine all that’s running though his mind since he’s refused to mention the incident since the night he returned home, but you can guess that it’s like a storm in there.

Doesn't mean you’ll go easy on him though.

Wrapping your lips around the head of cock, you relish in the shaky moan that leaves his bitten lips, along with the way his hands twitch – wanting to hold your head and pull you along as he wishes.

All your movements are torturously slow, on purpose – you’ll show him what he gets when he’s being a menace, injured or not.

“Come on, dear. Faster…” He whimpers beautifully, hoping to tempt you into listening from his honeyed tone alone. And though a spike of arousal does make its way between your legs, you’re not one to give in so easily, “What’s wrong? I thought you liked teasing.”

Jiaoqiu’s brow twitches in annoyance, smirk wavering at your gall – words so innocent and yet so biting. He’ll get what you give him at the pace you want, or he’ll get nothing at all.

“If you feel like it’s too much, tell me.” You remind him gently and he nods in understanding. And then, you’re taking him down as far as you can and he nearly chokes on his own breath, a loud moan punched out of throat at the sudden wave of pleasure that rolls through all of his nerve endings.

You pull back a moment later, letting him catch his breath before beginning again, gentler this time, pulling him apart slowly and lovingly. You want to whisper all the reassurances he needs to hear – how good he is, how pretty he sounds, how you love him and all his teasing and how you just want him safe and healthy…

How seeing him in such a state that night nearly broke you. But your mouth is a tad bit busy for so many words, so you settle for rubbing soft circles onto his thigh as you work.

Jiaoqiu pants heavily, eyes squeezed shut with parted lips which let saliva slip between them and down his chin – utterly lost in the way your mouth wraps around him after so long without any such affection, “Please, I’m so–”

He cuts himself off with a resounding moan and under your hands you feel the strength that it takes for him to keep his hips from bucking up into your mouth, pleasured sounds growing in frequency and volume as you speed up, taking him deeper and sealing your lips tighter.

A high-pitched, pitiful cry of your name is followed by the warmth of his cum sliding down your throat, pleasant in its taste as you always expect. You part from him slowly, offering comforting pets to his thigh as he winces in oversensitivity.

“Will you let me cook lunch now?”

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obeymeshallwedateaddict · 3 days ago

Note

HEAR ME OUTTTTT:

Mc who has no fear (Mc calling Barbatos cute).

I need to see his and the other's eaction PUHLEASEEEEEEEEE

You can do this however you like!! (Just please include the part of where mc calls Barbatos cute and the other's reactionnnnnnnn)

I'm hearing you out! Loud and clear! >:)))

Enjoy!

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

---

The grand dining hall in the Demon Lord’s Castle, where tea time is in full swing. The atmosphere is unusually calm...

Diavolo: cheerfully pouring tea into everyone's cups Ah, tea time! It’s always so nice to gather like this and just enjoy some peace.

Lucifer: grumbling, trying to maintain his composure I can think of better ways to spend my time, but of course, Diavolo insisted so I had no choice...

Mammon: eyeing the teapot suspiciously It's a bit too proper for my taste. Where's the beer?

Leviathan: mumbling, eyes glued to his phone Seriously, I can’t even play my game with all this “classy” nonsense happening... Ughhh I just wanna dig myself a hole and die in it!!!!! This is sooo awkwaarddddd

Asmodeus: beaming Oh, but look at Barbatos! His tea setup is always sooo perfect. He makes it look effortless, like everything he touches turns to gold. glances over at Barbatos with a fond smile

Barbatos: gracefully pouring tea for everyone, a quiet, unshakable calm radiating from him It’s always a pleasure to serve.

MC: sips their tea, looking at Barbatos with an amused expression You know, Barbatos... you’re kinda cute.

Barbatos: mid-pour, freezes for a split second, eyes widening slightly …Pardon?

Lucifer: immediately chokes on his tea, sputtering

Mammon: slams his hands on the table WAIT, WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!

Leviathan: eyes bulging DID YOU JUST CALL BARBATOS CUTE?!

Asmodeus: leaning forward, eyes gleaming Oh my... MC. You did not. You actually did!! This is soo juicyy~

Satan: staring in disbelief That... is not something I thought I’d ever hear in my lifetime.

Beelzebub: pauses mid-bite, blinking What did I just hear?

Belphegor: raises an eyebrow, half-awake Did I hear that right? MC just called Barbatos cute?

Diavolo: laughing uncontrollably, holding his stomach This is absolutely priceless. I don’t think anyone has ever dared to call Barbatos cute!

Barbatos: composes himself, smiling as always, but there’s a small hint of confusion in his eyes Well… that is certainly a new way to describe me. his voice softens a little I’m flattered, I suppose.

MC: grinning, clearly unfazed What? You’ve got this whole “too perfect” thing going on. Calm, polite, always in control… It’s honestly kind of adorable.

Lucifer: facepalming MC, please. You can’t just say things like that.

Mammon: panicking Are you trying to get yourself killed?! Do you even know what he can do to you? He could destroy you with a thought!

Leviathan: clutching his phone, wide-eyed Dude. You just signed your own death certificate. You called Barbatos cute. He probably already knows at least fifty ways to make you regret that.

Asmodeus: laughing so hard he almost spills his tea I can’t breathe, this is amazing. I’m living for this moment right now.

Satan: smirking I think this might be the first time anyone has ever thrown Barbatos off his game.

Beelzebub: still eating So… do they get a free pass for calling Barbatos cute, or is that a one-way ticket to the afterlife?

Belphegor: grinning I’m pretty sure MC just gave Barbatos a mini heart attack.

Diavolo: wiping a tear from his eye from laughing This is honestly the best thing I’ve heard all week. I never thought I’d hear that.

Barbatos: gently places his cup down, eyes softening, though his voice remains calm I see. Well, I suppose I can take that as a compliment, then. pauses, then adds with a slightly teasing smile You certainly are bold, MC.

MC: leaning back, completely unfazed You should know by now, Barbatos. I’ve got a lot of charm.

Lucifer: rubbing his temples Oh no, this is going to be a nightmare.

Mammon: still flailing Does anyone else think that Barbatos is gonna get revenge for this? Like, in fifty different ways?!

Leviathan: whispering I swear, this could be the start of something dangerous...

MC: grinning widely Let’s see if he’s cute enough to let me live, huh?

Barbatos: smiling, though there’s a hint of amusement in his eyes Well, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait and see. gives them a wink But I do appreciate your boldness, MC.

Diavolo: laughing, wiping his eyes You really do keep things interesting around here, MC. I’m actually impressed!

---

The End…? (Or maybe just the beginning of MC’s new favorite hobby: calling Barbatos cute and seeing how far they can push it.)

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transit-fag · 2 days ago

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Hello. I recently visited your presumably fine city, and I have to say, I did not enjoy myself.

I am reminded of a quote from AA (non active): "Principles before personalities."

Seems everywhere I went I was harassed, discriminated against, belittled, kicked out, yes sexually harassed, etc, apparently based on the characteristics of my physical appearance, as I gave no indication of political creed, religious affiliation, life philosophy, personal history, or otherwise. Like come on guys, my fashion sense is not THAT bad.

For example, a barista I interacted with saw fit to yell "no" in my face as I was attempting to order. Like fine, if you feel the need to publicly and preemptively cock block me by loudly stating your negative sexual preference towards my person, and thereby impress friends and bystanders, while letting that fella or lady you truly are smitten with know just how loyal a girl you really can be... I can't stop you. I'm sure they're great. I'm just trying to get some coffee.

Ok ok ok, so now, you (the reader) share a knowing look with the apparently psychic iindividual who tells you what to think and how to act (they obviously know about these things), who then makes a simple gesture accusing me of pedophilia and boom. Game, set, and match. It's over. Why even continue reading?

Not that either you believe what you are saying, but who gives a fuck at this point right? It's just that the look on both your faces reminds me of a smug version of the look my dog gets when he is licking his own butt.

Funny story-up until recently, I worked with an actual convicted child rapist. The genuine article. And let me tell you, he was having a fucking field day with this shit. It's ok, get it all out buddy. That's fine right? He's a part of the movement, and everyone gets something. Well, almost everyone lol;) ;)

Yes sir, it's a real pander fest out there. At an intersection, there is an environmentalist guy and a guy with the unnecessarily large and noisy truck. Given our recent political decision making process, you would think they would be staring daggers, yelling, celebratory coal rolling, etc. No absolutely not. Dudes are falling all over themselves in a mad scramble of trans political endearment. It's so simple!! All we have to do is find the one guy in society who isn't a completely gullible dumbfuck and shit all over him and poof. All problems resolved. Transgressions forgiven. A new age.

I mean, it is somewhat interesting how each of you has an individually unique rationalization for the exact same , identical patterns of hateful and abusive behavior. The tree hugger and the coal roller. Beautiful snowflakes all.

Just kidding, it's actually really easy to just place you in a cliched typology and reverse engineer your justification for participating in fascism lite (tm) based on a presumable self conception. I don't really give a fuck what lies you tell yourself in the mirror. But as your Bob Dylan said, it ain't me babe.

Point being, having superceded the political, as well as all conventional rules of civilized conduct, and or general local culture in your fair city, The Movement (tm) (ha) or whatever the fuck you call it, is the dominant social reality and governing social principle.

AND YOU CANNOT TALK ABOUT IT

Which is fine. You do you. But please cease to labor under the illusion that you still have any translatable values, of any kind, whatsoever. It's not that open harassment or discrimination or whatever, particularly when perpetrated by a group of people in a position of social power, is wrong, per se, right? I mean, it would be interesting to hear any of you attempt to justify yourselves, but unfortunately YOU CANNOT TALK ABOUT IT. It is forbidden. I get it. Its like fight club. That's fair. White guys have made some pretty decent movies.

Let's say you dropped $100k on a liberal arts degree. Here's a chance to exercise some critical thinking in the face of a mass social movement founded on cruelty and open hatred, which is kind of the basic purpose of such a degree. Nope. Let's say it was history. What does this say about your chosen field of study? Hide all evidence right? Or sociology. Beyond your purview. Philosophy. When in Rome? Congratulations.

A lot I could say, but, regarding the preposterous idea that this is jall ust a some organic, spontaneously occurring culture phenomenon (rationalization received from a Christian): 1. Easily forensically disprovable, I'm not even particularly well studied and I know exactly who your master is, where they work, and why, and 2. Shockingly naive, given the power dynamics of the situation, sorry no way are your overlords leaving that kind of money on the table.

I don't really feel like elaborating further other than to say that because you are unable to speak or "go back and forth with me", whatever it is that you are participating in is, on its face, complete bullshit, as you, by both structural and philosophical necessity, lack individual moral and intellectual agency, which is, in fact, and in spite of what you may believe (ask your benevolent dictator), the root of all collective historical human failure. As well as the principle rationale for a liberal arts education. But fuck it right?

So, you spent 100k on education, only to turn around and will yourself into intellectual and moral slavery, and become the object of some corporate marketing psychologist's vanity project? May I wipe my ass with that diploma?

In closing, I don't want to go over the top here and start some kind of song of myself, oh no, but having been treated like human garbage, I feel compelled to state:

In terms of adverse personal experience, I soloed goddamn Annapurna in the snow season, lived to tell the tale, and this is the shit I come back to. You are all useful idiots and your behavior is an insult to the human condition.

Why me? Honestly, because out of everyone in at least the entire western United States apparently, you could literally put a gun to my head and I would not get on whatever bullshit from the literal church of corporate Satan you all are being spoon fed. Which I guess is some sort of crime.

On behalf of myself, humanity, Jesus, the Buddha, the better angels of our nature, all the great ones who came before, rock-'n'-roll, etc, Bellingham, YOUR SCENE SUCKS.

I will enjoy the cold comfort of inner freedom and a righteous cause while watching you abandon any semblance of a coherent value system and continue to lick fascist corporate ass for a bump of cocaine (which I don't think is very punk rock:( )

In solidarity, an actual, working, breathing, locally available, and highly DMable, high 7-ish, cultural dissident.

And, let the bad faith Cassandra treatment begin.

(Unless you are feeling spry big fella. Wanna earn some points???)

UPDATE: You guys, you guys wait!!! I thought of a really good one. The hand gesture thing-that is soooo Hitler

Update to Update: WOW so many responses. I am not able to give each one the time and attention it deserves, so here I will make a brief general reply before sharing something (indeed) very special with everyone.

Briefly perusing these responses, they seemed mostly attempts and bad faith gaslighting (as predicted) along with a sprinkling of salty literary criticism. I, at least, personally, found the gaslighting amusing, because I said you would do it, and you still did it anyway. Lol.

But really, everyone here, myself included, knows that besides "though shalt not speak," like the second rule in the playbook (which apparently descended from Shiva on a ray of light or some shit) is "Just keep doing it," so really this discussion is basically pointless, other than to point out that based on your actions, you are now complicit in an ongoing attempt to manufacture a historical falsehood about our society as it exists today, which, to me, is somewhat mind-blowing and honestly something of a privilege to witness firsthand. Now on to the important stuff.

Driving home today, listening to some predictably tinny, cacaphonous, and emotionally shallow corporate music, it occurred to me: When all this first I was actually pretty afraid. I remember first commenting on this pattern of organized behavior I got so scared I had like a four day flashback, you know the terrors, worries that someone was going come kidnap me and bury me alive somewhere because the shit I talked was so unprecedentedly nasty there was no way it could be allowed to stand, etc.(Which honestly is a pretty scary thought, because just based on the responses I received here it is clear that no one is gonna come looking). But you know, this went on, and the ol shoe never dropped.

I could only speculate that I must have been the subject of some kind of Job-like wager, to see whether I could walk the razors edge between hysteria, due to the gaslighting, on the one hand, and some form of violence, due to the anger at the abusive treatment, on the other. And it went on, and on, and on.

Today I realized that due to recent developments, and in small part because of this post, the terms of the wager have changed (which is good, because turns out, I can do this shit indefinitely, but where's the fun in that?). I am no longer the subject of this wager. No, I am now a party to it.

So, what or who (you may ask), is now then the new subject? What is the nature of this new wager?

The subject, my friends, is you. My fellow citizens. The unwashed (stereotype) masses. The people of Bellingham. The human race.

And what is in question? I guess on my side would be what is known as traditional humanism. Although I am no paragon and did not choose this, this tradition would generally focus on the value of things like honesty, courage, dignity, perseverance, kindness, love etc. which in my opinion are inescapable, and due to my own experiences with hardship, indispensable, and woe be to him who has not felt that light touch some corner of his immortal soul.

The counterargument (I suppose) could (for my purposes) be described as anti-humanist, at least in the traditional sense. I believe that this position holds that the idealization of these traditional virtues breeds discontent and indeed mass violence and war, as humans are inherently somewhat petty, cruel, violent, etc, Overly harmonious, idealized group identities simply displace(?) sublimate (?) (my bad) these tendencies outward, in the form of group based hatred and violence.

Relevant questions: Realistically, are humans capable of self government? Are ideals good? Is the project of the enlightenment practical or desirable?

I would argue that life is basically not worth living in the anti-humanist society, as well as point out that in the more moderate "European" view, this is why we have things like rock climbing or whatever other stupid shit you guys do. Traditional forms of collective action are still necessary, and you can't solve many problems "herding cats."

To some extent this is a matter of taste, but I guess the real question is whether your corporate overlords can succeed in birthing the anti-humanist society and ,indeed, become bigger than Jesus.

You guys aren't helping my case much, but regardless this is the fundamental reality of what is happening right here, right now, plain as day.

I'll end with a plea for collegiately, as I have presented the arguments collegially, mainly out of fear for my personal safety, although we both know, if one thing is true about people from my tradition, it's that we fucking LOVE to party.

The ball is obviously not in my court, as I am alone here in a literal sea of sycophantic assholes, with nothing to defend myself but my rapacious wit, endearing humor, and roguish good looks.

It is ironic though. Me, an actual pariah, and the girl who has it all, arguing across each other. Like, I cannot fucking BELIEVE I am defending you people.

#asks

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meanbossart · 2 days ago

Note

I'm not sure if it's been asked before but first of all your writing skills are just incredible🤌 After reading "A Novel Experience" it was like scratching an itch that I couldn't quite reach after years of reading burnout. In summary I was genuinely interested in how have you improved and developed your writing skills? Like honestly your writing is so addictive and captivating that (respectfully) there just has to be some kind of exposure to expression through literature, or perhaps you are just simply into reading. (That's a lot of yap and sorry if it's personal in a way or another. Also thank you for inspiring me and other people alike, you are a phenomenal artist 🙏)

Oh, thank you! I am beyond flattered and I truly appreciate that you enjoy my writing so much. To be honest I am actually very dissatisfied with my work for about half of A Novel Experience - when I started it, I had no audience, I just wrote and posted the first chapter as an epilogue for the game since the canonical ending felt pretty abrupt (we didn't have the official epilogue with the extended dialogue or Wither's party back then).

Then, I just felt like I had more to say, so I kept writing and by chapter 4-5 I had this huge story plotted out. I wrote a lot of those early chapters very quickly, and often while a little drunk, and considered them rough outlines rather than a finished work. When the story and my art began picking up traction I started to put more effort into my style and presentation, which is why chapters take a LOT longer to write nowadays - but I can confidently say that I am very proud of everything that came after The Compound.

I'm not really a reader, I'd be surprised if I read more than 30 books in my entire 28 years of life, and frankly I only started to enjoy fantasy very recently through admiring many of the fromsoft games from afar, and of course by finally playing Baldur's Gate 3.

One thing I will say is that the fictional books I've read that really stuck with me - and that I would consider to have influenced the way I write - have all had very unorthodox styles. Blindness by Jose Saramago is page after page of overwhelming walls of texts that read like a slowing-down clock or an agonizingly tight turning of screws; Blood Meridian is a nearly incoherent babble written by a man who outgrew the need or patience for commas or proper sentence separation, who knowingly disregarded grammar for the sake of feel. The Consumer is a collection of borderline pornographic and horrible, horrible stories where every character is abstracted into a wider social phenomenon, point of view is irrelevant and there is no line between narrative, dissertation, or poem.

Unlike the aforementioned works and their authors, I'm not talented (or crazy) enough as a writer to COMPLETELY forego construction and grammar, but I do feel perfectly confident in prioritizing feeling and flow over what is "correct" and experimenting with text in the same way I would on a drawing. I don't think any of this makes me good at it, but hopefully it makes it interesting or unique enough to stand out. It also means that, despite disliking those first few chapters, I don't really mind having them out there, since my purpose with them was to just have fun and try to capture "a vibe" rather than show myself off as some sort of wordsmith.

Well then, I've definitely outyapped you so we're even now. Hopefully this was interesting in the slightest!

#ask #a novel experience

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grouchierlizard · 3 days ago

Text

When I first watched Naruto, I was the kids' age. Itachi seemed so cool.

Now I'm Kakashi's age and Kakashi's so cool.

One way or another, I'm enjoying myself even if through a different lens. Isn't that the best thing about fiction?

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ineedpaigebuckets · 1 day ago

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your world

an: i don't know who the fuck let me write this, or why it was even written but i hope you enjoy.

this is dedicated to my wife @ldapper of course because she thinks i don't love her like what the fuck.

also this isn't proof read AT ALL so have fun.

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

azzi pov

it all started the day we won gold. my best friend and i, we did it we won the championship, together. and the second the buzzer sounded and everyone started screaming i saw a certain blonde turn around and before i could wrap my arms around her she grabbed my jersey and pulled me into her chest. i hugged her with the biggest smile i think i could ever imagine.

things had been rocky recently, we'd been with eachother 24/7 for so long that we'd just developed these feelings, these confusing feeling neither of us new how to deal with. so i guess we just mutually decided, they didn't need an explanation. but right now, in this moment, her head turning and i feel her lips brush against my neck pressing a soft kiss to the skin, everything feels just right.

"so fucking proud of you az." i hear her soft voice in my ear but before i could respond she pulls away but keeps her hand across my back for a second too long.

in that moment i realized that the is wasn't some bullshit, one sided feelings. it was something about the way we just fell into each others arms, melted in each others embrace like we needed eachother. we did need eachother, in ways nobody else would ever understand.

i was still in disbelief as i walked into my room, stripping off my jersey and throwing on a sweatsuit, laying on my bed and just closing my eyes basking in the glory of winning a gold metal. a huge smile across my face.

paige pov

the second i step into my room the weight of the win hit me. i promised myself i'd get the girl, i promised myself i'd fucking make her mine before we won the title. i'd been trying to make her mine since i first watched her tournament in 2015, but she didn't want anything to do with me. the second i saw the way her messy curls bounced out of her braids, her big soft lips, and her dark sweet eyes, i knew she just had to be mine. by the time we officially met on team usa in 2017 i'd gotten far enough to make her my best friend, but no matter what i did she never seemed to understand how fucking in love with her i was. every small touch, every meaningless kiss to some random part of her skin, went completely unnoticed. i was always set on my goals, i'd do anything physically possible to make my deadlines on time. so, i knew what i had to do. i had to make that girl mine by midnight.

i'd somehow found a florist that was open at 9:30 pm and i'd never called an uber faster in my life. i'd managed to pick up a fairly small arrangement of pink flowers, her favorite color. i'd ran to the convenient store nearby, flowers in hand looking like an absolute idiot, but i was on a time crunch what could i say. i'd picked up the cutest little jellycat, a small pink heart with a lock connecting it to a purple heart. it was absolutely perfect, i'm the purple to her pink, or so i like to think. i wandered the store for a while longer finally finding what i wanted. a small olaf blanket, i just needed a little of everything for my girl.

now here i was standing like an absolute idiot outside of azzi fudds door at 10 pm. flowers in my right hand, my left holding the jellycat, and the blanket thrown over my arm.

"az open up." i mumble through the door trying not to wake anyone else on the floor up. i hear a soft groan as she opens the door causing me to chuckle. i didn't even wanna know the amount of blush covering my face right now. i watched her stand still her breathing not fast, not slow, but different.

"who's this for?" she asks in a low voice opening the door a little more to let me through. she knew damn well this was all for her.

"it's for you. i gotchu flowers because, i don't know every beautiful girl like you deserves as many flowers as she can get." i place the flowers down taking a deep breath not even close from stopping my rambling. "and, i found these hearts, purple for me pink for you. and there's a lock like, like we're locked. uh, best- we're locked." i fight the urge to say best friend, everything going downhill as i fumble over my words. and she's just fucking standing there. leaning against the dresser, her eyes big and soft looking up at me. her lips parted slightly asking me to just feel them against my own. "and here's a blanket, olaf, your favorite." i keep it short and sweet trying desperately not to mess up any more sentences.

"what's it for?" i close my eyes and set everything down against the dresser. i muster up the last bit of confidence i can, and walk up to her cupping her delicate cheeks in my hands.

"it's for you azzi. no other reason than- fuck." i couldn't get a fucking sentence out. i let my forehead rest against hers and close my eyes. "you deserve the world baby, if you just give me a chance, imma give it all to you, and more." i whisper, the feeling of having my eyes closed giving me just enough confidence to say what i finally needed to say. i push back my eyes still closed as i pressed my lips against her forehead. those big brown eyes never coming off of my face.

"holy shit, holy shit, that's what this has been this whole time?" she asks almost surprised and i feel her hands grab my shirt right by my shoulders. she shakes my shoulders but the smile on her face is irreplaceable. if only i could see that everyday.

"you're an idiot paige." she giggled and before i could even think her lips were on mine. i melt into her body, letting any ounce of confidence move right from my body into hers, as my hands grip the back of her head. her hands find my waist bringing me in closely and i think i could just die right here.

"give me your world paige, and i'll give you mine." the second the words left her mouth i knew she'd be my wife. azzi jazlyn fudd was mine, what fucking idiot would i be to ever let her go again.

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #pazzi #uconn wbb #wbb #paige buckets #ineedpaigebuckets #pazzi fics

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imaluvsj7 · 21 hours ago

Text

✿ ─── TOUCH OF EUPHORIA : 이희승

SYNOPSIS : where 𝒽𝑒𝑒seung is desperate man

PAIRING : 𝓁ee 𝒽𝑒𝑒seung x gn 𝓇eader ; GENRE : friends 𝓉𝑜 lovers, 𝒻luff, yearning & 𝒹esperation ; WC : 1338

───── 【 𝒾mas’ note 】 ❍ :: getting hang of writing again so sorry this is kinda rusty, I've tried making gn this time so really sorry if you find specific gender mentioned anywhere. please leave fbs & ENJOY READING!!

WARNINGS : english is not my first language, reader loves to banter, hee is a loser trapped in a hot body — desperate and yearning, hee calls reader angel, lots of fluffy & they kiss!!!! a little bit of rusty writing.

DISCLAIMER : This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

“Visiting my house early in the morning with your pajamas still on isn't how i expected you to show up heeseung especially the following day of your confession,” you stand near your door looking at him with adoration with a teasing tone hidden behind your grin.

Heeseung stood in front of your doorsteps with his typical pajamas a white loose tank top and grey trousers, bedhead messy locks with some tousled strands tucked in places — showing he has tried to fix his hair on the way, his bambi eyes showing daze and their usual sparkle. (click to read more)

Yet his unsettling feet and palms showed his feelings — a mix of joy, excitement, a depth of overwhelmingly and maybe slightly anxious gaze which he couldn't hide and somewhat feeling euphoric.

“I woke up and went to directly check my phone then I saw your response to my confession and I couldn't control myself but I promise I have brushed my teeth and washed my face,” he explains hastily trying to assure you he has cleaned himself enough to show up.

You try to suppress your laugh but he was too adorable to control, looking at you chuckling he blushed profusely as his ears turned crimson red and warm.

Soon calming down you speak — “so heeseung did you feel satisfied with my response.” “You said you will reply in person….. uh- so do you reciprocate my feelings?” he stutters out his question.

“Is this why you came rushing?” you ask with a playful tone subsiding your laugh. “Please angel, just answer my question. I need to know your response in person,” he said, carrying a whiny tone and emphasizing his plea.

“Okay gosh but first come inside you goofball.”

─────═━ •❃• ━═─────

You both walk into the living room and sit on the couch, “you want anything to drink cause it's early morning you haven't had breakfast or something.” “No please let's just talk,” he pleads desperately.

God you are weak for men who yearn pathetically, it drives you insane. You want to scream in a pillow at his adorable yet desperate state.

“Okay okay let's talk,” you gesture at him to continue speaking. “I couldn't keep my feelings hidden anymore angel, so Jay pushed me to confess and I didn't have the guts to do it infront of your face so I preferred to text instead.”

“To be honest I said that because confessing on text is a chicken move and I wasn't fond of it so I told you to confront me in person for my response.” “Yeah that I understood after Sunoo and Jungwon smacked my head when I told them before leaving, I'm really sorry that was very cowardly and lame of me.”

“It's okay bambi boy you're forgiven since you're so adorable but now I'm waiting for you to repeat the same thing you know.”

“Stop teasing me — he groans, maybe more like whining with his lips forming a pout — okay now just listen to me and don't speak please or I might get nervous, “you're nervous” – angel please let me complete.

I have had feelings for you for three years right after we became friends, I couldn't control them. Whenever you grab my arm I feel a jolt of electricity running through my body, when you come over to take care of me when I'm sick I feel captivated by your presence, when you laugh at my silly jokes I feel an intense wave of euphoria, I feel butterflies in my stomach when I go to bed after we hangout. I cannot stop myself blushing and smiling, at this point all my friends know and make fun of me. I don't care if I sound desperate or pathetic. I just want you to know how I feel so please tell me how you feel or I might go insane.”

“Gosh bambi boy you make me want to squish the life out of you. I have feelings for you too, you idiot, it was pretty clear to everyone except for you bimbo. Why do you think I always agreed to hangout and spend time with you and laugh at your silly jokes because I love you dummy.”

You expected him to jump or maybe laugh or just react with some sort of excitement but rather his eyes are glossy showing his vulnerability and his big grin speaks for his happiness.

“Say something now you idiot,” “I will start crying you-you love me- you said those words.” He stands up abruptly startling you as he grabs you in a tight hug pulling you up from the couch and his feet softly bouncing in excitement showing his eagerness.

“Okay you stupid let's sit…. oh god bambi boy,” you laugh at his excitement as he stumbles and you both crash on the couch. “Sorry oh god that was embarrassing I couldn't help oh this is real,” he giggles still joyful from the adrenaline rush.

He shifts, getting both of you comfortable laying down on the couch and you both stay quiet for a few minutes covered in a comforting silence.

“You know you haven't said those words yet,” “I haven't what – how can I be so stupid oh my god I love you angel, so much and it keeps growing everyday, every minute and every second.”

“You know you're definitely desperate and corny but lucky for me I like my man yearning for me.” He laughs at your sassy words while nuzzling his face in your hair and it follows with a soft warm touch of his lips making you go still and your body feeling euphoric.

He turns your head into his direction as he inches himself close to your face, his warm breath hitting your lips as he whispers “Can I?” — nodding your head you give him consent.

He soon leans forward, your bodies pressed together and your lips meeting his and you can feel the taste of shared breath along with his natural scent consuming your brain making it foggy.

Jolts of electricity pass in your system sending a tingling sensation across your cloudy brain and your palms turn clammy. The feeling of euphoria crawling in your heart making loud thuds. Your lips part slightly as he slips his tongue inside making you grasp his tank top in a tight fist.

Your usual confidential facade falling off as your face flushes warmth turning your ears crimson red. Eyes closed with your one hand travelling from his hair to his nape and his one hand locking your lips in place while the other holds your waist with fingers caressing your skin.

Your heart blooms with a rush of contentedness and a warmth you couldn't despair — the feeling so new yet so exciting making you feel gleeful. The lack of oxygen forcing you both to slowly part away, he leaves a last peck on your puckered lips.

Taking your time to stabilize your breathing you start feeling shy and exposed but the way Heeseung grins widely with adoration shining in his bambi eyes, his hands holding yours with his fingers caressing your knuckles assuring you.

Guessing your vulnerability he pulls you to him hugging you closes, pressing his torso against yours. Nuzzling his chin against your head he tilts his head a little to give your forehead a loving peck soon returning to its position.

After somewhat ten minutes of comforting silence he spoke up “Just so you know I'm your boyfriend now and you're my girlfriend but Jay told me girls feel loved and special when we ask them out on a nice date so give me one day.”

Receiving no response he pulls away a little to find you in a peaceful slumber, his loving gaze admiring your peaceful self — when you aren't teasing him or being cheeky.

Returning to his position he closes his eyes drifting away in his dreamland except this time it wasn't him admiring you from afar rather holding your hand while walking on a beach with your ring finger shining with a gold ring reflecting the sunlight.

💌 ─── NOTE : editing my taglist so please tell me if you wanna be added in my perm taglist.

˙ . ꒷ 🍥 masterlist daily click . 𖦹˙—

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morgana-larkin · 12 hours ago

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Alright, the highly anticipated part 7 of 'Just Tired'! I have to say that I received so many compliments and comments about this series and I'm so happy that everyone is enjoying it so much! Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Just Tired - Part 7

Warnings: Manipulative relationship (mentioned), swearing, sex references

Words: 4.3k

“Turn that damn thing off!” Melissa yells at the alarm that’s blasting.

“Melissa, that’s your own alarm.” You say with a yawn and she groans before she turns around and turns off her alarm. She then immediately snuggles back into you and you chuckle. “Melissa, we have to get ready for work.”

“Five more minutes please, being held is nice.” She says and you wrap your arm around her and she hums. 5 minutes go by and you rub her arm.

“It’s been five minutes Melissa.” You say gently while stroking her hair.

“No it hasn’t.” She says and you chuckle.

“I’m afraid it has.” You tell her. “It’s just before 6 and I need to get ready if I’m gonna bike to school.” You say before getting up.

“Why are you biking to school?” She asks and you look at her.

“Yesterday you told me to find my own way to school.” You say as you pick out an outfit.

“I forgot I said that. Can you drive us to work?” She asks as she gets up.

“You trust me with your car?”

“I trust you with it more than I trust myself with it right now.” She tells you as she picks out an outfit to wear from her suitcase.

“Alright, I can drive us then.” You say.

“Perfect, is it alright if I go have a shower?” She asks and you nod.

“Go for it.” You tell her and she goes to the bathroom.

You take a breath after she leaves the room. You just shared a bed with your crush as she just split up with her manipulated husband and you’ve known her for a week and a half. You really need to get laid if you keep thinking about her and already have a huge crush on her. You both get ready and then you leave before 7 so you can stop and get some donuts that’ll cheer Melissa up. After you pick up the donuts, you drive you both to work as Melissa happily eats the donuts.

“Here.” She says and feeds you a donut as you drive. You take a bite and you smile as you chew it.

“Chocolate.” You say and she looks at you. “My favourite.”

“I might have guessed that with the fact that you have hot chocolate at home.” She tells you with a smile before she continues feeding you the donut and eating a donut for herself.

You both reach the school and you get out and you see Melissa still sitting in the car so you walk to the passenger side and open the door.

“It’ll be alright.” You tell her and hold out a hand for her. She undoes her seatbelt and takes your hand and you help her up.

As soon as you both walk in you’re being dragged by Barb and brought to her classroom, as well as Melissa who has a donut in her mouth. Melissa takes the donut out of her mouth as Barb closes the door.

“What happened yesterday?” She asks Melissa.

“Barb, we had a whole conversation about this on the phone, remember?” Melissa tells her.

“I remember, but how are you doing and how were you last night?” Barb asks her.

“Been better but I have to put it out of my mind and teach some kiddos.” Melissa says.

“Melissa, you should have taken the day off.”

“I’m fine, and it’ll help me keep my mind off of things. So please, stop worrying about me” She says to both of you before leaving the room.

“How was she last night?” Barb asks you.

“Kept asking for physical touch.” You tell her.

“That’s what helps her mind.” Barb says and hums. “Can I ask you a favour?” She asks you and you nod. “She might want to be clingy today, would you mind if she was clingy with you? You just have to tell you’re ok with any kind of physical touch if she needs it.” Barb asks you.

“I don’t mind, I can’t believe what she must be going through but I want to help her.” You tell her and go to leave the room.

“Y/n.” Barb says and you turn around to face her. “Thank you for helping to take care of her, I know Melissa appreciates it and so do I.” She tells you and you nod before leaving the room. You enter the break room and you see Melissa at the coffee machine making a new batch and you walk up to her.

“Hey Melissa.” You say to her and she glances at you before she pours some coffee in her cup. “If you need anything today then I’m here if you need me.” You tell her.

“Y/n.” She says with a sigh and you keep looking at her.

“I’m just looking out for you.” You tell her and Barb walks in and Melissa steps away from the coffee machine.

“I already told you that I’m fine.” She says, loud enough that the whole room hears and turns to look at her. “In fact I’m better than fine, I mean I couldn’t be anymore fine, I mean I’m fine. Did I mention I’m fine?” She asks and you nod.

“Ya, you did a few times.” You tell her.

“That’s because I’m extra fine.” She says before she grabs her things and heads out the door.

“What was that about?” Jacob asks.

“Nothing, and you heard her, she’s fine.” You tell them before you follow her out and you pass by Mr. Johnson on the way out.

“Interesting.” He says as he watches you follow Melissa down the hallway.

“Melissa.” You call her name as you follow her into her classroom and close the door.

“Y/n, I’m not fine.” She tells you and you walk up to her.

“Do you want a hug?” You ask her and she nods as a few tears slip down her face. You wrap your arms around her and she immediately reciprocates and hugs you back.

“How am I supposed to get through today if I can’t even get through this morning? And morning only started 2 hours ago.” She asks as you pull away from the hug.

“Easy, by looking at your little Eagles, look at those bright little faces of theirs and it’ll put a smile on your face and you know that you don’t want to let them down. Because you’re their teacher and you’ll do anything for them.” You tell her and she looks at you. “Something another teacher taught me last year.”

“Well, she’s right.” Melissa says and sighs.

“Just have to get through until 3pm and then you can cry or be angry all you want, or even not feel anything, totally up to you.” You tell her and she nods.

“Thank you.” She says and you nod.

“Of course, anything for the ginger goddess.” You tell her and she giggles.

“Well can this ginger goddess ask one more thing from you?” She asks and you nod.

“Well physical touch helps me as you know, and I was wondering if, well if…”

“Of course.” You say and she looks at you.

“I didn’t finish the question.” She says and you shrug.

“You want to know if you can ask for touches if you need it.” You tell her and she tilts her head at you. “The first part of the question gave the rest away.” You tell her and she chuckles. She then grabs your hand and you look in her eyes.

“Thank you.” She tells you. “Really.” She adds and you nod.

“If I’m being completely honest, I’m enjoying the physical touches after not getting any for, well, about 5 years.” You tell her and she gives you a confused look.

“The last time I got anything was the first day I moved in with my friend and she gave me a welcome hug.” You tell her. “And that was the last time.”

“Well, I guess we’re both getting what we need out of it then.” She says and you nod.

“I guess so.” You tell her and then you hear students arriving and you look at Melissa before you let go of her hand and you see her looking a bit stressed and you get an idea. “You know, seeing as it’s still the first week and our students seem to be friends with each other, we could do a combined class and watch a movie or do a fun art project.” You suggest and she looks at you.

“I’d love that.” She tells you and you nod before you both walk out of the classroom. You then come back near her and you grab Gracie’s hand who was trying to sneak in Melissa’s class again, before looking at Melissa.

“Your classroom or mine?” You ask her.

“Mine.” She says and you nod.

“Be there after taking attendance then.” You tell her and she nods with a smile before you cross the hall with Gracie who’s complaining. “Let me tell you a secret, Gracie. You’ll actually see your friend again in a few minutes.” You tell her as you enter your classroom.

“Ms. Y/l/n” You hear and you turn around.

“Yes?” You ask and see someone from the front office there. “One of the parents is requesting that their child is transferred to Mrs. Schemmenti’s class.” She tells you and you look at her confused and you see Melissa coming up to you both.

“Which child?” Melissa asks them.

“The student is named Gracie.” She tells you both.

“Well we both know the reason why.” You tell Melissa and she hums.

“Thanks Maia.” Melissa tells the woman and she nods before leaving.

“I’ve been asking for her name since I started and she never gives it.” You tell her.

“They don’t give their names to newbies as they never stay.” She tells you.

“Well I’m staying and I will get my cheek kiss.” You tell her and she shakes her head at you with a smile.

“You’re such a dork.” She says and then walks to her classroom. “See you in a few minutes.” She tells you before entering her classroom.

You enter your classroom and after you take attendance, you get everyone to grab their chair and bring it across the hall to Melissa’s classroom.

“Ok, Ms. Y/l/n’s class, you can place your chair wherever you wish.” Melissa tells them all and you bring your chair right next to Melissa’s and she smiles at you. “Ok now I want you all to get into groups of 2.” Melissa says and you see all the students talking to each other. “Wanna be in my group?” Melissa asks you and you nod.

“I mean we already shared a bed so why not?” You tell her and she chuckles.

“Who isn’t in a group?” She asks and you just watch her interact with all the students as she talks them through the art project before she gets you to give 5 pieces of blank paper to each group

“So they have to draw 10 animals and write the name of them?” You ask her as everyone gets to work and she nods. “Well your students have a huge advantage as you just taught them animals the other day.” You tell her and she winks at you. “You’re playing dirty Schemmenti.” You tell her and then she starts drawing. “What are you drawing?” You ask her.

“A dog.” She says and you snort.

“I don’t know what kinds of weird ass dogs you’ve seen but that’s not a dog.” You tell her and she flicks your knee and you look at her in shock.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect, and I’m not the best artist, just like you.” She tells you as she continues butchering the picture.

“Oh god, give me that, fottere.” You say as you take the drawing and she looks at you and tries not to laugh.

“Did you just swear in italian?” She asks as you fix the drawing and you nod.

“Yep.”

“And how many swear words do you know in italian?” She asks you and you shrug.

“Enough of them.” You tell her and then show her the improved drawing of the dog.

“And you said you weren’t any good at drawing.” She says. “Compared to mine this is actually good.”

“Melissa, I think any of their drawings of a dog will look better than yours.” You tease her and she looks at you wide eyes and mouth open while trying not to laugh.

“You’re sure bold to be teasing me.” She says as she begins drawing something else and you start drawing a monkey.

“It’s easy to tease you, dolcezza.” You say so naturally and she whips her head at you.

“Are you teasing me with that nickname?” She asks you and you shake your head.

“No, I think you’re sweet so I called you sweet, or at least something close to that as I think dolcezza means more dear or doll.” You tell her.

“Dolcezza is a word that can be used to describe sweet or sweetheart.” She says and you smile at her.

“It’s perfect then.” You tell her and show her the picture of your monkey.

“I like it, cara mia.” She says before showing you her picture of a bird.

“Oh, using nicknames as well?” You ask her and she nods with a smile.

“Ok, Tesoro.” You say and she leans back in her chair, crosses her arms, quirks her eyebrows and has a smirk.

“Are you challenging me to nicknames in italian? Cause if you are then need I remind you that I’m Sicialian?” She says

“You’re also American like me, so maybe I am.” You tell her and she smiles.

“How about un accordo?” She says and you look at her.

“What kind of agreement?” You ask her.

“Damn, you know italian more than I thought you would.” She says before looking back at you. “Let’s keep talking but every sentence has to have at least one italian word in it, first one that can’t, loses.” She says and you quirk an eyebrow at her before shaking her hand.

“You got yourself an accordo.” You say and she smiles.

10 minutes pass by and Melissa is looking at you with a smirk. You’re weighing your options out before you sigh.

“Alright I fold, you win.” You tell her and she giggles. “You’re the italian queen.” You add.

“Damn right.” She says and then winks at you. “If it makes you feel better, you lasted 10 minutes longer than I thought you would.” She tells you and you look at the time.

“It’s only been 10 minutes.”

“I know.” She tells you with a smirk and she sees you pouting but that makes her laugh. She then shows you the picture of the horse she drew.

“Not bad, so it’s just dogs that you have trouble drawing?” You ask her and she nods.

“You made it really good though. Why are you good at drawing them?”

“I used to draw my dog all the time when I was growing up.” You tell her as you continue you’re drawing.

“You had a dog growing up?” She asks and you nod.

“I did, a golden retriever. My parents got me her as I was a single child and saw that I did a lot of things by myself.”

“You’re lucky that you’re an only child.” She says. “Siblings are annoying.”

“You have a sibling?”

“I have 8 of them.” She says and you widen your eyes.

“8 siblings?” You ask in disbelief and she nods. “Damn, I thought you were gonna say you have like 1 or 2 siblings, not 8.” You say.

“Well most of them might choose to stop talking to me when they hear I’m getting divorced. My Ma might as well, or at least take me out of the Christmas dinner rotation, which is a huge dishonour in my family.” She tells you.

“Your family just casts people out without a thought?” You ask and she nods.

“I already stopped talking to one of my sister’s after Nana died, she brought one of Nana’s dishes to the wake but did it wrong.” She tells you and you tilt your head and give her a weird look.

“Wait, you stopped talking to one of your sister’s because she brought a messed up meal?” You ask her.

“Well not completely, she left my whole family high and dry when Nana got sick. Then showed up to Nana’s wake with a bad dish, that was the nail in the coffin. Metaphorically as Nana was cremated.” She explains to you. “We didn’t have a pet when I was growing up, although my 8 younger siblings were crazy enough that we didn’t need something else causing chaos.”

“You’re more of an enigma than I am, actually you’re a whole level by yourself.” You tell her and she chuckles.

“And this is the panda, which is spelled p-a-n-d-a.” Gracie finishes explaining her and her friend’s animals.

“Good job Gracie and Nancy.” You tell them and they nod before going to sit down. Just then the bell rings and you and Melissa sit up to round up both the classes.

“I’ll be up front, you should be in the back to make sure there’s no troublemakers as there’s 40 kids.” Melissa tells you and you join the kids at the back of the line.

“Ms. Y/l/n?” One of the students say and you look at him.

“Yes?”

“Why did we have classes with Mrs. Schemmenti’s class?” He asks you.

“For fun. We wanted everyone to get to know other kids in the same grade as them, makes it more fun.” You explain to him.

“But there’s 3 second grade classes.” He says.

“Well we couldn’t fit like 60 students in one classroom.”

“So we’ll have a combined class with Ms. Teagues classroom as well?”

“We’ll have to see.” You tell him and reach the caf.

Melissa makes sure that all the students has a lunch and then she looks over to see you bending down to talk to one of your students before he hugs you and you hug him back. Then you stand back up and make your way over to Melissa before you both walk to the break room.

“What were you talking about with that student?” She asks with a smile.

“He was telling me that he’s glad I’m his teacher this year.” You tell her and she hums.

“The kids already love you and it’s been 2 and a half days? That’s impressive.” She tells you and you smile. “By the way, how old are you?”

“I’m 25.” You tell her and you see her eyes widen.

“Jesus christ, I can’t believe I’m friends with someone who’s 23 years younger than me.” She says and you stop her by walking in front of her.

“Wait, did you just say…friends?” You ask her and it seems like her brain caught up with what she said. “We’re friends?”

“Yes, the teacher who doesn’t make friends with newbies, made friends with one newbie. If you tell the other 2 then I’ll have no problem kicking you out of my life.” She threatens and you smile while nodding.

“Does this mean I can also sit next to you at lunch?”

“We’re not that close.” She says while pushing you out of the way to the door to the break room.

“Melissa, Y/n, did you really do a combined second grade class without me?” Janine asks and Melissa nods. “Why was I excluded?” She complains.

“It’s none of your business short stack.” Melissa tells her.

“But-”

“Janine, just drop it ok.” You tell her as you sit down across from her. She sits back in her seat with a pout and you roll your eyes. “Pouting won’t get you anywhere or puppy dog eyes. I had a dog growing up and I’m now immune to them if a human uses them on me.” You tell her before she sighs.

“It just feels like you’re excluding me even though we’re friends.” Janine tells you

“We are friends but none of this had anything to do with you.” You tell her.

“What does it have to do with then?” Jacob asks.

“It has to do with something that’s none of your business, like Melissa said.” You tell them both and you see Melissa smiling at you. “By the way, Melissa, how’s it going with that dyslexic kid?” You ask her and she looks at you.

“It’s good, I spoke with her and the parents at the end of the day on Monday and they’re happy how we’ll all be helping her.”

“Wait, you and Melissa both have dyslexic kid in your class?” Janine asks you and you shake your head.

“Just Melissa, she got transferred to Melissa’s class. Although that makes 2 kids that Melissa has taken from my class.”

“If you really want then I could have it where Nancy is transferred to your class instead so I can have 20 kids instead of 22.” Melissa tells you. “I mean that’s the only reason that Gracie wants to be in my class is because Nancy is there.” Melissa tells you and you hum.

“I thought you were getting the dyslexic student?” Janine asks you.

“You ask a lot of questions short stack.” Melissa tells Janine.

“It’s not a bad thing to be curious.” Jacob says and Melissa glares at him and he immediately shuts up.

30 minutes later Melissa gets up and she walks out while sending you a text. Once she’s gone you go to her contact and look at the text.

Melissa: Need you

You read and then you look at Barb who nods before you begin packing up your stuff.

“I just remembered I have to photocopy some papers for the next project. I have enough for my class but not enough for Melissa’s.” You tell them and then get up.

“Wait, you’re combining with Melissa’s class for the whole day?” Janine asks and you nod.

“It was only going to be half the day but half of my students are friends with her students. I think they were in grade 1 together. So we thought we’d just do the whole day, have a good afternoon.” You tell them and then leave.

You get to Melissa’s classroom and you see her swinging in her seat. You walk up to her and stop her seat and she looks at you.

“What’s up?” You ask her as you sit in your seat.

“I was thinking about something that Joe told me a few times, that I was lucky that he wants me because no one else will.” She tells you.

“That’s just a downright lie and you both know it. You are the WHOLE package while the only thing he’s got going on for him is his package, and it’s probably not even that good.” You tell her and she chuckles.

“Can I tell you a secret?” She asks and you nod. “At the beginning, sex was good. But for the past 15 years he never made sure I finished, I’ve been having to satisfy myself after.” She tells you.

“Wow, that’s such a let down for you.” You tell her and she hums. “When I have sex with a girl, I always make sure she finishes however many times she wants.” You say and you miss Melissa’s eyes get darker.

“Well all the girls you’re with are lucky.” She tells you and you look at her. You slip your shoes off and then you put your feet on her chair beside her legs and lightly swing her back and forth.

“Maybe you could be lucky too.” You tell her and she quirks an eyebrow at you. “Have you ever been with a woman?” You ask her and she shakes her head.

“Only men as it wasn’t an acceptable thing in the 90’s.” She tells you and you hum.

“Do you want to be with women? Because I know the perfect bar we could go to and many women would be dying to have sex with you.” You tell her and you see a blush reach her cheeks.

“Ok, but-but not this weekend as I haven’t even told Joe that we’re over yet. All I did was pack my things and elbow him in the face. Although I did tell him that I didn’t need him anymore.” She says.

“You could tell him right now, over text.” You tell her.

“Isn’t that a shitty thing to do though?”

“It is, if the person hasn’t been a manipulative asshole for 25 years.” You counter.

“I’ll send him a text after school is done. That way I don’t have to teach a class after whatever he sends back to me.” She says and you nod.

“You might have to go back to my place to get your things as you wanted to stay at Barb’s tonight.” You tell her.

“About that, can I stay at your place for one more night? Barb said she’ll set up the extra bedroom for me tonight but asked if I could stay with you again.”

“Of course, you’re always welcome at my place.” You tell her and she smiles at you.

At the end of the day you’re saying goodbye to all of your students and then Melissa comes up to you when they’re all gone.

“Ready to go?” She asks and you nod before you go and grab your things and head out with Melissa.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

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Let me know if you want to be added!

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti #fanfic #x reader #lisa ann walter #law #abbott elementary

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short-honey-badger · 3 days ago

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So. I think it's time that I buckle down and start a nice, long fic for good ole Shamrock. I'm planning for something full of angst and hurt comfort. Some character introspection for Sham, too. Go over his daddy issues and his past a little bit. *i know that we hardly know this man, but like. I can't help myself. So im sure his past won't be anywhere connected to what we learn in the Manga. But like. It's fanfic, so we're all delulu here anyway.* Anyways! I've got the barebones of it written down in my handy dandy notebook, but I wanted to post a little beginning snippet! Please enjoy!

What is loyalty if it means nothing in the end?

Pairings! Shanks x Female Reader and eventual Shanks x Female Reader x Figarland Shamrock

Warnings! *blood and torture* more tags to come!

Pain explodes across his back, the cat o nine tails striking him once more. He grits his teeth against it, unwilling to make any kind of noise, unwilling to give his father an ounce of satisfaction. His knees ached, his wrists chaffing against the thick, steel woven cables that kept them lashed together. Shamrock has been kneeling against the stone floor for hours, stripped of all of his gear, his uniform, down to nothing but basic, common clothes that a slave would wear.

He jerks again when the whip strikes down, slicing into his flesh and sending rivets of dark blood sliding down his back. It drips down to join the slowly growing puddle beneath him, and Shamrock forces himself not to look away from it.

The redhead had awoken like this, lashed hands tied together and chained to a single metal pole in the middle of the stone room. He knew where he was. He himself had dragged more than one insolent pirate inside this room and stripped them bare, torturing them for information. Starved and beaten, they would usually break within a week. How he had not awoken, the holy knight did not know, but he was here now and at his father’s mercy.

Link to AO3 -> HERE

@mit-suri @sanjisleggy @nocturnalrorobin @mfreedomstuff @sordidmusings

#one piece #reader insert #shanks x reader #one piece x reader #red haired shanks #shanks #figarland shamrock x reader #shamrock one piece #figarland shamrock #one piece manga spoilers

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lovely-parasite-04 · 1 day ago

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Iced Coffee, Detective?

Agnes!Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader

Prologue

Part 1

SUMMARY: Y/N makes it to Agatha's house expecting an hour or two of entertainment and instead finds herself in more "trouble" than she prepared for.

WARNINGS: Mention of a gun, Agatha being Agatha

NOTE: This was a long time coming, lol. I got a lot more interaction than expected, and I was so excited! However, for the longest time I didn't know where to take my little blurb and had this part halfway finished just collecting dust. I also was feeling partially guilty for picking this back up when I have scholarship essays to write but heehee oh well that will happen when it happens. ANYWAY I hope you enjoy and if you have thoughts, feel free to share :)

Walking through the neighborhood to get to Agatha's house, I made it a point to avoid looking at the plot of land Wanda Maximoff had decided to take over during her time here. There was no longer a house there, and the concrete foundation that was left had graffiti all over it. I think it's the first of anything I have seen vandalized in Westview. Despite the words overlapping and being hastily spray painted onto the small structure, I didn't need to know what it was all about; there was nothing nice written in all that mess about the Scarlet Witch or her actions in Westview.

Agatha's lovely house was to the right.

It was a very cozy house on the outside, with beautifully green bushes almost blocking the front windows and what looked like the outside of a bay window to the left of the door. Overall the property looked shockingly plain to hold someone so...not plain. Who knows what I would find on the inside.

What was I even doing here, anyway? I don't have to be here. There was absolutely no obligation to follow through with Agatha's summoning. She would have forgotten about it soon enough. But now I'm in front of her door after my shift to...what? To be questioned about someone - who I'm certain is imaginary - I lied about knowing? To entertain Agatha and then in turn myself? To maybe get a little insight on this curse of hers? To see her play "bad cop" with no "good cop" to save me?

Jesus, just knock on the door.

I raised my hand, shaking my loud-ass thoughts away and deciding to wing it. Suddenly the door swings open and I almost "assault an officer." Agatha catches my fist before it lands in her face, "Woah! Watch out there, kid." Her hair was still up but a little rattier like she'd just been napping - if her clothes were anything to go by. A Star Trek T-shirt that's two sizes two big, velvet sweatpants, and purple fuzzy socks.

I couldn't help a giggle escape me and I blurted out, "Did you just wake up?"

"You were supposed to call before you came in. I could have been out following a lead, or in a meeting."

"Oh, lucky timing I guess." Right. Stick to the script. Even if you don't have a copy of said "script" for yourself. This would be an actor's worst nightmare.

I have to clear my throat to remind her she's still got my wrist held above my head, and then I swallow at the thought.

"Seriously though, the door is glass. You didn't need to knock." She drops my wrist and immediately turns on her heel into her house - I swear I see her start to yawn, but then maybe being under the spell is exhausting. I know after the town was liberated, I stayed in my bed for days just recovering. The door was definitely not glass, so she must have heard me pull into her driveway and watched me through the window. At least now I have a little clue to what she thinks her "prescient" looks like. An office with a glass door. Neat.

I mentally smack myself knowing now that she watched me stare at her door for so long. I can't be embarrassed for too long though, because entering Agatha's house was like entering a new world - and not one I expected. The dark wood and light green walls gave an earthy cozy feel to the living room and the sofa looked old and comfy. I catch sight of a wall covered in random pictures of grass and flowers with red yarn connecting them every-which-way. Agatha pulls a funky looking arm chair up to her coffee table, gesturing for me to sit on the sofa. I comply - I was right about the couch - and I notice the head of a garden hose lying on the table in front of me.

"Sorry," Agatha takes it and puts it into the side of her pants? "There shouldn't be any need for that, right?"

No way that's what she's using for a gun.

"Um...no, ma'am."

"Great. Goooood." She smacks her lips and pulls a Manila folder out of nowhere, switching it between her hands almost to taunt me. Her eyes haven't left me since I arrived. "We'll get to this in a second. First, tell me about how you knew the girl."

Uh-oh.

My hands were suddenly damp and I did my best to rub them off on my own pants, looking around as if that'd give me a clue to what my relationship was with this fake victim. Then I remembered the pictures of flowers on the wall. "I-We were gardeners. Together. We gardened together...all the time."

Agatha's eyes squinted and her lips pursed, "Interesting." That was the worst lying I had ever done, but how could she not believe me? Wouldn't her mind just make something up to go with her narrative anyway? "How did you two meet? Garden club?"

"Sure."

"Oh really? And who else was in this club? Probably a bunch of other old ladies."

"Woah. Rude."

"Moving on." She suddenly stands and drops the file she had in her hands and I choke on air as she bends over to pick it up. The velvet sweatpants she's wearing have the word "Naughty," bedazzled on the butt. This is definitely entertaining. If someone knocked me out right now and woke me back up to tell me I dreamed all of this, I'd believe them. She whips back around and offers the file to me, "Let's take a look at this file, huh? Sound like fun?"

Fun. For sure.

I take the file from her hand, now unable to take the image of her bedazzled ass out of my mind, while she circles the couch and leans over my shoulder. I'm perfectly still as I feel her cheek a hair away from mine. I can smell her shampoo, I think. It's mostly a clean smell with a small floral hint to it.

Great. Now I'm taking in the notes of her scent. I can't fall for the town hero/cook/ancient witch. What would that make me? The idiot? Definitely some sort of idiot. Then it hits me that she is unfortunately exactly my type: older, brunette, and a little deranged. I'm toast.

"Go ahead." She whispers in my ear. Dear god. "No need to be scared. There's nothing in there you can't handle."

Taking a deep breath, mainly to slow down my now rapid heartbeat, I open the file. Inside are some bills addressed to someone named Ralph Bohner - tragic last name - and a couple blank papers. I pretend to take it in but have no idea where to go from here, so I look back at Agatha. Big mistake. Her mouth is now a hair away from my mouth.

My neck nearly breaks from how far and fast my head shoots back, and I guess Agatha thinks she startled me because she chuckles before standing straight again. "Just as I thought..." What? What does that mean?

She comes around the couch and her hands are shaped into finger-guns with her two index fingers pressed against her lips in a thoughtful manner. Until she's leaning over me, her arms supporting her weight against the back of the couch on either side of my head. Her face is centimeters away from mine. I know I'm blushing but I'm praying to whatever's out there that she can't see the red under that spell of hers. She cranes her neck past my face to be right by my ear again and whispers, "I know it was you."

Huh?!

"I don't-"

"Pretty interesting reaction you had to my file there...only a guilty killer would act that way when faced with the cold. Hard. Truth." She yells the last part and I knock my head into her arm trying to lean away from it. Pushing herself back up straight, she looks down her nose at me and gives half a chuckle and god do I have butterflies right now?! "I'm afraid I'm gonna be taking you in now."

Taking me in? What does that mean for her? What will that mean for me? I've been found guilty? For a crime that doesn't even exist by a cop that's not even a cop. This has gone too far. I need to get out of here. I'll make it out of here and go home and never mess with the town cook again. I can't get tangled in this - what am I meant to do?

I slowly start to scooch to the edge of the couch with my hands up in surrender. "Aw man, that sucks. Well listen, Ms Harkness - Detective! Sorry, Detective Harkness. I..I have homework that is due tonight and damn look at the time. It's been fun-" Making the most coherent excuses I can think of knowing damn well she's only gonna hear what she wants to, I slowly stand and begin to back away when her own hands shoot up. Before I can do anything at all, red fuzzy handcuffs are around both my wrists. I choke on air while Agatha stands there completely serious. I really hope these are meant to be regular handcuffs and don't belong to her. I don't think I could handle it otherwise.

"You're not going anywhere, toots."

Now I'm really toast.

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