#I NEED GOOD GRADES FOR FUCKS SAKE

[thekricks0krickass]

you know when I thought of Jude's "if i cannot be better than them I will become so much worse" line as a motto, I WAS NOT TALKING ABOUT LIKE ACADEMICS

I TAKE IT BACK PLEASE

[eyrieofsynapses]

me @ my professor: why tf did you have to put an exam the day after election day. wtf. we're already stressed out and bouncing off the walls. cruel

me, today: ...fine. maybe frantically studying is a distraction. whatever

[the-heaminator]

.

[transgaysex]

i have been running all day long

[rotthepoet]

Need theo and lorenzo head cannons 😔

Good morning sweet pookie, i gotchu!! I needed a little break after that threesome so I did some random, some silly, some fluffy, and some smutty, kay? It’s really just a big brain dump on how I characterize the boys <3 Hope you enjoy, love ;)

P.s. if I have any reoccurring anon’s, if you want me to differentiate you, please feel free to assign yourself an emoji <3 unspoken rule i thought i’d say out loud

Theodore Nott

I agree with literally everyone on this app, he is a smarty pants, but i refuse to believe he sits down and studies

It’s not that he doesn’t care about his grades, he just doesn’t have to try to get good marks. Queen absorbs information like a sponge and retains that shit forever. Doesnt have to waste time with a boring textbook because he commits everything to memory.

That being said, he will remember everything about you. Your favorite movie you mentioned in passing, he saw you eat something particular multiple times he can infer its your favorite and will buy it for you often, he knows your habits, your aspirations, your desires. All of it. Does it for his close friends and lovers <3

Huge smoker. Like. Oral fixation final boss. Needs to have something to smoke or at least chew on at all times

I mentioned before how I think Mattheo and him laugh at people who vape, but Theodore Nott is a two faced LIAR and actually keeps a menthol alto with him at all times. For convenience sake. If you ask him, it’s different because its not a fun lil fruity flavor.

Speaking of Mattheo, those two are best friends. Like ride or die. Like. These two are bread and butter, inseparable and delicious.

Will internalize everything. This is why he gets so worked up and fights people. It may seem like him getting pissy over nothing, but this boy has some unresolved trauma and unmedicated issues.

Theo has ADHD prove me wrong and fuck you for trying(jk love you, but i will die on this hill.) severe anxiety issues, def some depression going on, hes working through some shit.

Theo can process a lot of stimulus at the same time. Watching him hold 3 steady conversations while reading a novel at the same time is a sight to behold.

Smokes weed a lot too. Mostly bud, but he’s smart and keeps a cart on him too for quick bathroom breaks when he needs to chill tf out. It slows down all the thoughts racing around his head. Lets him relax. Lets him feel peace. Let him feel comfortable. He’s been searching for that feeling his whole life.

Mommy and daddy issues check?

Anyways!

Theo is a player, and its not even because he tries to be.

Girls flock towards him, and he needs an outlet.

Sex is a good outlet.

Sex and drugs? Now we’re cooking

He doesn’t care much for the dating scene, didn’t think he was cut out for it. Bad home life. No mom. Depressed and emotionally distant evil dad. Friends and his family are all death eaters? Causes some bad views on relationships as a whole.

Omg but when he falls in love it takes forever but its so hard. Its so devastatingly hard.

It goes from “wow they really make me happy” to “omfg i need to marry them they make me feel complete and comfortable and it feels like i can finally be myself around someone this is the feeling i have been searching for my whole life” really fast when he falls

He’d never love at first sight. Refuse it. He might think someone is pretty or handsome, but he won’t ever describe it as love at first sight.

100% friends to lovers

He’s a quality time kinda guy i think

Just likes co-existing really

Stay in the room with him in silence as he reads and hes so golden

But that will bump up several notches and enjoy every other love language too

He wants to make you love him. He’ll do anything for you. Buy anything for you. Tell you everyday how wonderful you are

He’s being so genuine too

His friends would know

He never shuts up about you

If you had never spoken to his friends, never met them, they’d be able to come up to you in a grocery store and say “oh. You’re <you>, right?”

And dear god he genuinely cries a little in relief when you finally say yes

He’s buried his face in your hair and hugging you so tightly and he tries not to cry because he finally has everything he needs in his arms

He’s such a good boyfriend

Will never question you(at least not at first or without good reason)

Literally worships the ground you walk on

Will apologize first immediately after every meaningless petty fight

Thats different about real fighting though. Stubborn ass bitch

Anyways

Dotes on you everyday

Calls you so many sweet names in Italian

Has an Italian accent but sometimes tries a British accent to throw everyone off.

Argues in italian

Lowkey hates snow

Runs super cold so loves lovvesss hot weather

Will take you to Italy over the summer

Demands you go

Fucks you on the balcony of his family home

Fucks you stupid on the beach

Sorry where was I going with this

Ah yes anyways

Runs super cold so like is a big fan of cuddles. Lots of sweaters for you to steal

He likes turning cuddles into more slow and intimate things

Slowly fingering you as you spoon

Cockwarming in the morning or late at night<3

So much worship.

So much

Just adores you.

Loves fast rough sex but honestly could go on about slow love making for hours

Literally cant stand American reality tv

The biggest kardashian hater

Knows all the gossip because he’s quiet and listens

Doesnt care to share it though

Lorenzo Berkshire

Bitchboy extraordinaire

If I met Lorenzo Berkshire he would become #1 on my shitlist so fast

I called theo a two faced liar as a joke

But Enzo actually is one

Literally puts on the nicest mask for pretty girls, but every ex, and every guy in hogwarts knows he’s a conniving bitch behind closed doors

One of the richest in the group and it shows

Flaunts his money everywhere he goes

His ears are pieced

Also he likes having his ears bitten it can make him hard as a rock in seconds

Dates, but it usually only lasts a month and Hes the worst boyfriend ever

Dumps them whenever he gets bored

But omg when a person gives him his attitude back

Well first he gets even meaner

But also he likes you so much like… that was hot

And if you ignore his existence? On you like a moth to a flame

Craves attention

Such an attention seeker

Still will fight, isn’t very good, but will try

100% a prefect

Showers his pookie with so much love and attention

When he finally gets the person he wants, hes on top of them 24/7

Never a hand straying to far

Literally obsessed

Big fan of exhibitionism

Will fuck uou on the train, the bathrooms, the common room, the classroom

Its all fair game

Would love to see you all tied up in pretty ribbons for his birthday

Ass man 100%

Likes to just get a fistfull while you hug or cuddle

Mattheo and him are the biggest gossipers

Has like 4k followers on instagram because hes so pretty

Father and mother are hirh death eaters. Does anyone know Berkshire lore because i def dont

Like fr can someone explain him to me

Pairs well with anyone in the grouo, really

Gets along especially with Theo or Mattheo

Amazing at card games, and says he’s amazing at chess too. Hes not.

Literally refuses to snack, says it’ll ruin his physique

On the quidditch team much like everyone else he’s friends with

Slays at herbology

Maybe a bit of a smoker? Not often, and def more weed than tobacco

Light weight for reals

Like severely light weight

He’s the laughingstock of the friend group for it

Him and Mattheo have a running bet on who can fuck the most women

Omg omg omg because they so do the alphabet challenge im so sorry but its factual

Lorenzo is currently winning with 15/26 letters in the alphabet but Mattheo isnt too far behind

Its because Lorenzo is so charming and Mattheo…. Is himself.

Anyways back to being his significant other

Will spoil you

Relentlessly

Lowkey expects head in return but that will wear ofd eventually

109% more likely to start a fwb situation than anything else

Treats you like a girlfriend this whole time

Kisses you sweetly, holds uou close when you sleep, mumbles about how special you are

Just being a girlfriend without the title because then it gets too weird

Loses his shit if you get tired of trying and break it off

Genuinely ballistic if he loses you

Will pull as many favors and as many strings as he can to get yiu back

Seriously considers murder for a while

Anyways he gets you back baby<3

Speaking of babies hes super good with kids

Look at that face

Amazing dad face

Scared of marriage lmao

Bad parents. Fucked up views on relationships

Its a thing for all of them tbh

[anadiasmount]

not what you think - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: a club filled with many girls but the one he wants is standing in the dance floor, his best friends little sister. he shouldn’t be thinking the way he does, but something about seeing you doing something he never thought and imagined has his mind racing with thoughts that were forbidden…

wc: 2.1k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa 🗣️: another brothers bsf trope after a anon requested!! mostly will be jude’s pov being jealous and protective *winks* this is slowly becoming one of my fav tropes ngl :PPP but nothing will beat enemies to lovers🤞🏻 like always, hope you enjoy! 🤍

“didn’t know johnny’s little sis could move like that,” jude’s friend snickered, sipping on his drink as he stared out at you. jude twisted his head at him in confusion failing to comprehend his words before following his gaze to you. throwing your head back laughing as you moved your hips in circles going down.  

jude’s jaw locked in place, scoffing as he watched you come back being faced with your back. “yeah i always knew she wasn’t so innocent… there’s no way a pretty girl like her doesn’t have something besides her good grades,” jude’s other friend said, turning his head to the side as he watched you continue dancing with a sly smile on his lips. 

“if she wasn’t johnny’s sister, i would’ve probably already tapped that ass… i mean look at the way she’s doing that,” jude’s friend to the right said, gulping as you threw your ass back to your friend and rolled your hips back up. jude gripped his glass tightly, downing his drink in one go as he fought to urge to say something he shouldn’t. “so fucking sexy…”

“guys… she’s johnnys sister for god's sake. if he found out you were talking about her like this, he would have your head…” jude remarked, filling his glass once again still entranced as you danced with your friends, not caring about anyone else or anything around you. just your seductive and powerful moves. “johnny’s not here though, wonder if he knows she's here?”

jude’s throat ran dry, biting the urge to drag you out of the damn club and take you home, where you should’ve been. not here where every man in the room had their eyes on you, including him. watching the way you were dancing, laughing, being a careless y/n like he knew. 

you wore a short black dress that hugged your figure like a glove, drawing and tracing out your curves, ass, and boobs perky, legs longer as you wore high black valentino pumps, and hair perfectly silky straight. jude swore he died on the spot when he saw your red lip and lashes behind the smoky eye look. 

he grew up with you. knew when you got upset and happy. the y/n he knew who always said a quiet hello to him with a shy smile and wave. avoided him and his friends when they showed up to your home, quickly running up to your room. the quiet y/n who was always focused on her studies with glasses on and laid on her stomach with her legs crossed as she read. 

the quiet y/n who listened to music as she drew in her notebook. his y/n, the one he stole glances at when she wore small shirts and shorts wasn’t the one on the dance floor. the y/n who helped her mum in the kitchen and teased her brother to embarrass him when she wanted to be the annoying little sis she was. 

his y/n who couldn’t keep eye contact when he spoke to her, cheeks flushed as she stuttered over her words. his y/n always made sure everyone was happy before anyone else. his y/n the one who helped him and his friends come home after being left stranded wasn’t nothing like the one he stared at now. 

his y/n? when had that changed? his feelings for you? 

when did all of a sudden did he feel the urge to claim you as his? the need to hear your angelic voice? why did he feel a wave of anger and jealousy build inside him as you moved your hips slowly down like a pro? why did he want to punch his friends for saying they wanted you? when did all of a sudden had you grown up into a woman? had he missed something? where was his y/n, the one he fell for?

jude was anything but a saint, he unfortunately had a reputation that he could give less than a shit about, the only girl he wanted all along was here in the same club as him. he found you endearing, left wondering with forbidden thoughts of his best friend's little sister. how you would taste on his lips, if the act of innocence was just an act and not real, if you thought of him as he did with you. if there was more to this side you had, sexy and careless that he began to love. 

jude pinched the middle of his brows, sighing as you finally stopped dancing and now hyped your other friends up. it was killing him, everything you were doing was killing him. you were beyond perfect and deserved so much more than the men in this club. someone to treat you with love and tenderness, with love and respect. jude knew he could offer you that, he was left conflicted because you never showed an ounce of feelings for him. 

jude licked his teeth scoffing in denial, watching you move in slow motion again, hands roaming your sides seductively as you brought them up in the air continuing to move your hips and ass. he managed to look away and scratch his jaw when your friends cheered you on, giving you a shot of tequila and downing it in one go like he did as well not to long ago. 

jude almost jumped out of his seat as a tall man approached you, someone way older trying to get your attention. the man was obviously gawking at you, leaning down to your level to whisper into your ear, you shook your head displeased, hugging your friend and sticking with her. jude smugged cockily, downing his final glass before going over to you. 

“i'm gonna get her home you guys stay here,” jude said, picking up his wallet and leaving some change as part of the tab. his friends stared at him confused, stopping him by patting his chest and pushing him back. “are you crazy? she's here with friends just let her be, she’s fine,” one of his friends spoke. “it's not our problem to deal with,” his other friend reminded him. 

“it will be once johnny finds out she was here, especially if he knew we were here and we didn’t do anything about it,” jude said with irritation. he had to pull the “angry brother, looking out for his best bro’s little sis” card, knowing how much you hated being treated like a child. johnny could be so overprotective about anything, boys and your life, you sometimes resented him for that. jude knew this, but all he wanted was to get you away from here to your home because he was mad and jealous. 

he looked between both of his friends at you once more, who finally went and stood by the bar ordering a drink with your friends. he said his goodbyes again, charging between all the sweaty bodies to the front of the bar where your back faced him. with you much closer now he could finally see you face to face. your friend had stood up straighter almost choking on her drink when she saw jude approach you, standing white as a ghost, “uh oh”. 

you crinkled your brows in bewilderment, looking to your left where you saw jude looking down at you. “tired?” he humorously asked leaning down to whisper in your ear. “what?” you asked softly, hugging yourself at the thought of getting scolded by your brothers best friend. “i’ve been watching you for the past hour, dancing and drinking, does johnny know you're here?”

your face filled with mortification at jude’s words, knowing you were dancing and watched by him. how had you not noticed him? had he been here the whole time you were? “what he doesn't know won't kill him. plus, i asked my mom for permission, he’s not my father let alone anyone to control my life,” you clarified. 

jude gave you a knowing smile, shaking his head in amusement, still his innocent and feisty y/n. “we both know if that he was here, he would’ve dragged you out the minute he saw you,” jude challenges watching your eyes roll back in annoyance. “did you need something? or are you going to stand here and be annoying like him?” you ask with a small frown on your face. 

“we’re going home.”

“says who?” you fired back, it could be the tequila shots but right now jude was being like johnny and you hated him for that. you just wanted a night out with your girls and he was ruining that. “says me. are we going to do this the easy or hard way, y/n?” jude crossed his arms copying you, veins prominently guiding all along his forearms and hands. 

the way he said your name had your heart racing nervously. you hated being treated like a kid, you were an adult and jude was reminding you a whole lot of your older brother. he was his best friend, your brother’s hot best friend. there was no need for all this drama, why was he so bothered by the fact you being here? so you questioned him just that, “are you bugged by me being here or something?”

jude couldn't find the words to reply, watching your doe eyes look down and up at him. “this isn't a place for you to be at, how would your mom feel at you drinking?” he quickly lied, hiding the real reason. “i'm drinking responsibly jude. i'm not a kid anymore, i know what i’m doing,” you declare. “if me being here bothers you, then we can just find another club, easier said than done.” you grab your bag and prepare to walk out but jude grips your wrist.

you’d never had a problem with jude, but he was starting to give you the reason. there was many times your brother and his friends left you out, even in your own home. then as you grew up, you knew they were just boys being boys. with jude it was always different, wanting to include you, and make you feel engaged. even offering to hang out with you so you wouldn’t be lonely. 

where was this unexpected attitude and nagging coming from? you expected him to at least let you stay, wave you off with a ‘be careful’, and go on with his night. the jude you knew, who was charming and a gentleman, wasn't the one who stared right into your eyes currently. his brown eyes filled with not anger but almost jealousy? was he jealous or trying to look out for you because you were his best friend's little sister?

jude didn’t want you to go anywhere. he wanted to keep you safe along his side for the rest of the night. he knew you were pissed at him, but that would pass because he knew you couldn't stay mad for a long time. jude could see the anger rise in your eyes even with the club lighting. he could also see the hesitation and resistance in you, debating whether or not to go or stay. “we’re going home, y/n,” he remarks again. “i can take care of myself,” you say again with now a less confident voice. “really?” jude dares, scoffing and letting out a chuckle, pointing to the man who approached what seemed an eternity ago. 

“if you knew how to take care of yourself, you would know that man has been eyeing you,” jude's eyes roamed you up and down, watching how you crossed one leg in front of the other, “and your drink for the past half hour. who knows what his intentions are, but if you really knew how to take care of yourself you’d know better…” 

you looked down in humiliation, your thumb stroking your exposed skin in an attempt to comfort yourself. “i’m just trying to look out for you,” jude said softly his eyes drawn in trying to read you. “i know you are, but why does part of me feel like that isn't the only reason? that you're here for other intentions as well…” 

bingo. you caught him. jude stood up straighter, clearing his throat and clenching his jaw, tense. “good night, jude,” you smiled as if you’d won a trophy for the best detective in the city. you paid for the drink, almost returning to your friends when you feel a hand wrap around your waist and pull you into their chest. you could feel jude lean down and leave your body with goosebumps. 

“we’re leaving now. if you’re a good girl, i’ll tell you exactly what you want to know…” 

[bbrissonn]

can you please write something for ryan leonard? could literally be about anything i just feel like that boy deserves more attention <3

i love ryry, he deserves more love. cute little freckle man

in which ryan's teammates cant leave the two of you alone in the library

under the cut !

"for fucks sake." ryan mumbled under his breath as he looked up from his book, only to be met with his friends sitting at the table of in front of yours.

"what's wrong, love?"

"they're here again. they're not even trying to be secretive anymore!" he scoffed as your eyes stayed glued to your work. you had a very important coming up, and you needed a good grade.

"just ignore them, babes. they're kids, let them be." you answered, leaning your head down on his shoulder as his eyes met with will's, who had wide smirk on his face.

"oh my god, what are you guys doing here?" gabe asked as they all got up and walked over to sit at your table. ryan let out a loud groan considering you were in a library as his friends made themselves comfortable.

"get out of here!" he spat at his teammates, making you chuckle a bit, but staying focused on your work.

"are we not allowed to study?" will asked, his smirk still present as ryan sent him a death glare.

"where're your books?"

"in my bag."

"take them out and study then. at another table." he said harshly, making all his friends laugh a bit.

"what if we want to sit at this table?" jacob asked, ryan rolling his eyes. your boyfriend looked over at you, begging you to tell the guys to leave, but you were too focused on your book to realize the look he was sending you.

"it's a library, be quiet." ryan warned the guys before looking back down at his work. your head was still leaning on his shoulder, making gabe snap a pic of the two of you. of course, the boy hadn't realized his flash was still on, making it blankly obvious what he was up to.

"get out!"

"what, why?"

"you're not here to study, you're here to bother us. so leave!"

"it was an accident!"

"can you guys go bicker somewhere else? i'm trying to study." you whispered harshly, making all the boys go quiet as they stared at you. you had finally looked up from your book, now sending ryan's friends a death glare that matched your boyfriend's. "all of you." you added, turning your head to look at ryan.

"me?" he gasped, his jaw dropping slightly.

"yes, you. you're the reason these ding dongs keep bothering me, so get out." you sassed, making ryan roll his eyes slightly before he started packing his bag.

"you guys are such assholes." your boyfriend mumbled as he got up from his seat, pressing a kiss to your forehead before making his way out. his friends followed closely, rambling about something that clearly wasn't making ryan happy.

lovey 🤍

give your side pieces some attention

i'll see you tonight loves <3

ryry 💗

i hate them, they're so mean

i miss you

come cuddle me

lovey 🤍

i'll be there in an hour max

love you

ryry 💗

love youuuu

[pombeom]

no escape from you | beomgyu fic (part 1)

pairings: enemies to ??, roommate! beomgyu x reader

warnings: suggestive content

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for days but i finally wrote it the way i want. might make this a series with smut in the next chapter so keep a lookout 👀 (not proof read)

You were the responsible one between you and your roommate. You always kept things clean, even picking up after his dirty dishes. But being his partner for a paired project was not what you signed up for. Gambling your grade and trying to work with him? Not a chance. 

When are you free? We really need to start our presentation! 

Your frantic spamming of texts went straight to delivered and were probably not going to be read for another 24 hours at least. You would think that being assigned to do a presentation with someone who was quite literally your roommate would be a breeze, but with Beomgyu never being around, the task seemed impossible. You hated the guts of this guy but you were willing to work through it for the sake of your grade. Well that’s only if he comes backs to your shared dorm before the end of the fucking day. Your sleep schedule awaits no one. 

Sat at the kitchen table, you spend the next 3 hours researching for parts of your presentation knowing that it’s probably be easier to start it off without Beomgyu. Scrolling through websites and watching videos on the topic, you write down the notes in your notebook but eventually, without meaning to, your eyes slam shut, falling alseep in your folded arms which rest on the table. 

A lock clicks as the door screeches open. At the early hours of the morning, you are awakened by your drunk roommate. You jolt your eyes open upon hearing the noise of his shoes, his footsteps uneven, indicating his intoxicated state. Anger bubbles in you as you turn sharply to face Beomgyu, giving him an intense glare which he meets with his half open eyes, appearing to be laughing at you. 

“Aww, did you wait up for me, sweetheart,” he taunts, knowing how much you hate the stupid nicknames he gives you on purpose. 

“No. In fact, I fell alseep trying to finish our fucking presentation which is due in fucking 2 days! Do you know how many times I called and texted?” Your tone came out harsh and direct which in some ways was exactly what you were going for but more so, you just wanted to get your point across. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart. I was out.” 

“I can see that. And stop calling me “sweetheart”. It sounds so fucking stupid. I have a name and that’s what I’d like to be called.”   

He inches closer to you, stumbling a little, grabbing onto your arms for support. His grip is gentle but firm, cautious to hold tight but not to hurt you.  

“Listen sweetheart, if you’re gonna yell at me at least do it when you’re not dressed like this. I can’t help but get a little turned on.” 

“Fuck you!” You turn a shade of crimson as you feel a sense of angry embarrassment. Your slip dress was short and the low cut did nothing but show off your cleavage to Beomgyu who towered over you, getting a clear view of your chest. 

“Well if that’s what you want, sweetheart. I’m down. But maybe tomorrow or something. I’m tired right now.” He smirks, saying goodbye with a two finger salute. 

With that, he makes his way to his own room, leaving you filled with a cloud of confusion and unease. He may have been joking but his words made your stomach flutter, carrying and intense heat throughout your body. 

I really need to go to bed. 

————————————————————————

Getting approximately 4 hours of sleep last night had you waking up on the wrong side of bed. You were cranky beyond help and your mood only depleted when you saw Beomgyu sitting at the kitchen table, munching away at his cereal. 

“Good morning sleepyhead, get a good night of rest?,” his remark was sarcastic, almost shaming you for your evidently tired appearance. 

“Beomgyu please. It’s too early in the morning to be arguing with you.” 

“As you wish.” 

You joined him at the table, grabbing yourself some fruit and toast and you both continued to eat in silence. The air was stiff as you could feel Beomgyu constantly looking up from his bowl to stare into your face whilst you desperately attempted to avoid looking in the same direction to prevent any accidental eye contact. 

Why was he being so intense today?

As you finish your last bite, a wave of relief washes over you as you quickly get up and head over to the sink, washing up your plate before you feel a presence behind you. Beomgyu’s chest came in direct contact with your back sending a flush of pink straight to your cheeks. You tried to move away but his arms caged you. You could hear his breath against your ear, leaving a tingling sensation on your sensitive skin. 

“You know my offer from last night still stands. If you’re up for it,” his whispers send you into a frenzy and you turn around faster than the speed of light almost challenging him as you look up to his face. 

“Listen to me Choi Beomgyu. You have no right to speak to me like that. Nothing of the sort will ever happen. Do. You. Understand?” Your voice was firm and confident, concealing any embarrassment you felt earlier. 

“Shit. That was kinda hot, sweetheart.” He places his hands over yours which had somehow made his way up his chest, grabbing ahold of his white t-shirt. “Now, we have a class to get to. Wouldn’t want to be late now would we?” 

The realisation struck harder than lightning as you jolt you eyes over to the clock, knowing you had a little over 7 minutes to make it to your class. If you ran. 

You push Beomgyu away and grab your bag and slip on your shoes by the door and dash out the door, without care for your roommate who was also in the same class. 

“Hey, wait for me!” His voice yells from behind you, almost catching up. 

“Beomgyu, I really don’t have the time for this right now. I’m gonna be late.” 

“I know a shortcut. Follow me.” He grabs ahold of your hand, dragging you in the opposite direction from the one you’re used to. What started off as speed walking had evolved into a sprint as you’re left huffing and puffing trying to match the strides of his long legs. 

Within minutes you arrive at the door of your lecture theatre, astounded that you made it on time. As you both walked in, still clutching hands, you quickly noticed the limited seats available. Almost every row was full apart from 2 seats on the furthest end of the 7th row on the left. 

“There,” Beomgyu points, upon identifying the seats, ”Guess we’re sitting together today.” He sounded rather pleased, the corners of his mouth lifting to display his smug expression. 

“Brilliant. Sooo excited,” you sneered, ensuring that the sarcasm in your tone was conveyed as you squeezed past the entire row, making your way to the end, as Beomgyu takes a seat to your right. 

“You better be, sweetheart.” 

[schemmentigfs]

Future Milf, part one.

paring: melissa schemmenti x fem reader.

summary: what was supposed to be a normal monday morning at Abbott, ends up being a chaotic one after you lend Melissa one especific t-shirt.

warnings: sexual themes? The rest is just pure crack.

author notes: I got this idea after listening to M.I.L.F $ by Fergie? Anyways, it's finally here, I'm must say that I'm pretty proud of this one. Stay tuned for part two! And yes, I watched heartstrooper and thought the drum scene was cute, so I added here.

English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

When you arrived at Abbott in that morning, one curious feeling of both happiness and anxiety coursed through your body. And even though you found it completely strange, you decided to ignore it.

“Good morning, Y/n!” Janine said waving to you in the hallway. “How was your weekend?”

You smiled noticing her presence, as much as everyone else always said that Janine's way of acting was a bit annoying. The other teachers had to addmit that she was a good person who was always willing to help when needed.

“Morning!” you replied, unlocking the door to your classroom, ready to start another day at school. “It was good! On Saturday, I went to my parents to visit them for a family dinner. And on Sunday I spent the afternoon at Melissa's place.” You let out a passionate sigh remembering the day in the company of your favorite redhead.

It was a lovely afternoon, you cooked together, talked about different things and at the end, you watched a movie together, with Mel's hands gently stroking your hair while you were lying on her lap. “Hon, you are so cute,” she whispered softly, leaving her famous bravado aside, and showing her sweet and loving side instead.

To be honest, you loved these moments with the older woman, it made you feel protected, relaxed and loved. Something you hadn't felt in a long time. Melissa Schemmenti was your safe place. That same tough second grade teacher who took almost three months to have a friendly conversation with you was now one of your best friends. Yeah, fate was something that was really fucking powerful.

After listening to your last words, Janine let a huge smile escape her lips, before she started to celebrate. “I knew it! I knew it!” The youngest said, jumping up and down excitedly.

“Knew what?” you questioned with a confused expression.

“It was a date, wasn't it?” she asked with hope in her eyes.

“No!”

“Wait what? I thought you and Melissa were dating. Guess I was wrong. Again.” The second grade teacher revealed, completely disappointed looking at you.

After seeing your friend's reaction, you widen your eyes in shock. Was she really serious?

“Janine, why did you think we were dating?”

“It’s kind of obvious, she calls you by cute Italian nicknames, brings you coffee every morning. Share her lunch with you, let you hug her, and she always laughs at your jokes! You two are practically married in the eyes of everyone who works here at Abbott!” She talked non-stop.

Janine could only be out of her mind, a relationship between you and Melissa was impossible to happen. You were co-workers for god's sake, and also the redhead was known for being completely closed off when it came to relationships. Since her divorce with Joe was a traumatic experience.

Deep down, you were completely in love with Melissa. But tried to suppresses your feelings, knowing it would never be reciprocated. After all, what would a beautiful woman like her want with someone like you?

It was painful, but you couldn't do anything about it.

Turning your head to the sides to make sure there was no one else in the hallway, you started talking. “What I have with Melissa is just a normal friendship between two women. Something platonic and not romantic! Okay?”

“But—” she insisted.

“Let's just forget about this.” You sighed and Janine finally gave up, nodding and giving you a sad smile saying goodbye and returning to her classroom.

“You can’t keep lying to yourself.” Mr Johnson’s voice caught your attention.

“Huh?”

“You like Melissa, and you know that,” the janitor says as he sweeps the floor, eliminating any sign of dirt. “You may not have noticed yet, but she likes you too. Act while you have the chance, otherwise you will regret it if she finds someone else.” He said, before leaving.

Now alone in the hallway, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, thinking about his words and Janine's. Were they right? No. They were insane.

“Why did everyone suddenly decide to give their opinion on my love life?” You grumbled, looking at the watch on your wrist. There were twenty minutes until the kids arrived, so you decided to stop by the staff room for some coffee and also to refresh your mind.

—

When you entered the teachers' lounge, you saw a curious scene. Jacob was completely nervous while Melissa was furious. Gregory and Barbara were there watching everything and trying to calm her down but without success.

“JACOB!” the redhead shouted angrily pointing to her pink sweater and looking at the young boy with a deadly glare. “LOOK WHAT YOU DID!”

“I'm sorry! It wasn't my intention, I ended up getting distracted and—” the history teacher stuttered nervously.

“JUST—” She almost started to argue again but stopped when she felt Barb's gaze and yours on her. “be more careful next time, we don’t want any accidents like this happening again,”

Jacob nodded, apologizing once more, returning to sit on the small sofa, next to Gregory. Focusing on the news that played on Channel 6.

“Dear, are you okay?” Barb asked worriedly, putting a hand on her best friend's shoulder.

“Yeah, the only problem is that I don’t have any spare clothes to wear.” Melissa responds.

Seeing the older woman's frustration, you decided to quickly help her, knowing that she was starting to get uncomfortable with her favorite sweater's situation.

“Don't worry, I can lend you one. I always keep one in case something like this happens.” You replied with a small smile.

Melissa sighed in relief, it was as if a miracle had fallen from the earth when she needed it most.

“Thanks, Stellina. You are an angel.”

You blush at the nickname she gives you. Maybe Janine wasn't so wrong. Just maybe.

“Let’s go.” you pulled her by the arm heading to your classroom.

—

You guided Melissa to sit in one of the chairs and closed the door, heading towards your drawer looking for the shirt. It took a long time to find it, as everything was slightly messed up. The redhead rolled her eyes, pretending to be impatient.

“Apparently it looks like youse need to learn how organize your things better.” The older woman mocks you.

“Shut up, Schemmenti. I’m trying to help ya,” after a lot of effort, you finally found it, “here, it’s a little wrinkled but I think it should be fine for you to use for the rest of the day,”

Melissa let out a soft smile, taking the shirt you handed her. “Thanks again for helping me. I appreciate this.”

“No problem, I’ll always give you a hand whenever you need it,” you replied with a shrug.

In the three years that you had known each other, She had done so many things for you. So it was only fair that you pay her back, right?

“Uh, I’ll turn around now so you can have more privacy to change,” you said and she nodded, giving you a thumbs up.

You turned around, facing the classroom door, letting out a muffled laugh when she mumbled, “Thank God I won't have soup on my body anymore.”

Everything was going normally, until you heard something else that made your heartbeat increase with each passing second.

“Future Milf, hm?” Melissa said inspecting the shirt, reading the print with a confused expression. “It’s probably a term that those of you who are young use. I liked it.”

Hearing that made you freeze, it was as if the whole world had stopped at that moment. It couldn't be. No. It could only be a completely ridiculous nightmare or dream of yours. She was a natural joker, always picking on you with some prank or something else. She was joking, right?

Fuck, had you really given her that shirt by accident? Oh shit, you were so screwed. The only good thing about this situation was that she didn't know what the word milf meant.

If she knew, you'd probably be dead by now.

Melissa snapped her fingers, a sign that you could turn around again. The action brought you back to reality, but you were too embarrassed to look at your friend in the eyes again.

“What do you think?” she asked, adjusting the t-shirt on her body, waiting for your answer anxiously. Melissa wouldn't never admit it, but your opinion was something very important to her.

You kept quiet, nervous about what had just happened. It felt like a nightmare, for some reason. After school, you would probably go to the supermarket to buy a giant bottle of wine to drink while watching some horrible Netflix TV show trying to forget all of this.

When you focused your gaze on her figure, your mouth opened into a big 'o'. She looked stunning, with her signature black leather pants, boots and well.. that t-shirt had made Melissa look so hot, that you couldn't look at anything else in the room. It definitely suited her.

“Y/n? What do you think?” She repeats.

“You look amazing, Lissa,” you say playing with the rings in your fingers. A common habit that occurred when anxiety took over.

Melissa, who was always perceptive, studied you carefully. “Hon, are you alright?” she asked with a bit of concern in her tone.

“Yeah, I'm fine, just was thinking about...” you stop trying to think of an excuse to explain why you were distracted, “a funny thing Janine told me earlier, that's it.”

“What would it be?” She asks.

“I—It's a very stupid thing, I mean you know how she is,” you let out a nervous laugh, “I think you better ask her at lunch, Mel.”

The redhead raises her eyebrows, a little suspicious. Just as Melissa was about to speak, the voices of the children in the hallway interrupted her, making you two realize how much time had passed.

“Oh! Our students.”

“Yeah, they arrived,” Melissa says, “Well, I think I have to go now, your little devils will be here at any moment. See ya at lunch?”

“Of course, and Mel?”

“What, hon?”

“You look beautiful.” It accidentally slips out of your mouth, leaving you pale and afraid of her reaction. Of course, you had already said that Melissa was beautiful several times, but this time something different was in the air.

You didn't notice the way her cheeks flushed.

“Thanks gorgeous,” the eldest grins and wink at you. Was she flirting?

When Melissa was no longer there, you covered your face with your hands to stifle a scream that threatened to escape your throat. What was supposed to be a calm Monday, turned into a chaotic one due to a slight mistake of yours.

—

Ava was passing in the hallway when she saw Melissa walking calmly to her classroom. The principal's eyes widened when she saw the redhead wearing a t-shirt with the words “Future Milf” printed on it.

“Why the hell is she wearing that? That's not something Schemmenti would wear. Especially at school grounds.” she whispered to herself.

By coincidence, Gregory was also in the hallway and was surprised by her pulling him by his coat.

“Huh?” the man said, confused. “Ava? What are you doing?”

“Relax handsome, I just need you to answer something,” she said, looking at him,“do you know why Melissa is wearing that thing? the woman pointed to the teacher.

“Y/n lent it to her after Jacob accidentally spilled food on her sweater earlier,” he explained. “Why?”

“Did you saw the damn print on it?” Ava asked, rolling her eyes and Gregory shook his head with a puzzled expression.

“Then wait and see at lunchtime. I'm telling ya, this is going to be more fun than any episode of The Kardashians!” she laughed looking towards one of the cameras.

—

Meanwhile, you tried to focus on teaching your students. But it was practically impossible. Every time you closed your eyes or tried to explain something. Your mind thought of Melissa wearing the damn shirt.

“Ms. Y/n? Are you feeling alright?” Leah, one of your students asked, snapping you out of your trance.

“Yes, sweetheart. Don't need to worry about me.” you replied with a calm voice. She smiled and returned to pay attention to her activity.

The hours passed quickly after that, much to your dismay. It was good on the one hand: in a while you would be home soon. But the bad thing was that you would have to lunch next to Melissa Ann Schemmenti wearing that fucking milf shirt of yours.

You thought of some solutions to avoid her presence, but gave up. Knowing it wasn't fair to do so. Defeated, you went to the staff room.

—

Barbara was looking for the redhead you wanted to avoid at that moment. The eldest knocked on Melissa's classroom door, waiting to be welcomed by the teacher herself or her aide, Ashely. But that didn't happen.

Determined, she decided to enter anyway, raising her brows when she saw a curious scene.

Her best friend was pacing the room while mumbling something. “Y/n, do you want to go on a date with me? We could go to a restaurant and—” Melissa said to herself, “No, too formal that doesn’t suit me. And I would prefer a date at home, where we could...”

The brunette now leaning against the wall let out a soft chuckle that scared the redhead.

“Jesus Christ!” Melissa gasped with her hand on her chest. The kindergarten teacher rolled her eyes, “Barb, you scared me to death.”

“Haven’t you asked her out yet?” her friend got straight to the point, “Oh Lord, you've already been faster than that. Tell me sweetheart, what's stopping you?”

The green-eyed woman looked away, feeling a little embarrassed, “I'm just scared. Y/n is only in her twenties, she has her whole life ahead of her and I'm already at a certain age. What will she want with me?”

Barb saw how her voice immediately sounded small and trembling, falling in love was a delicate thing in Melissa Schemmenti's life, her marriage was a totally traumatic experience. And after that, she completely closed herself off, thinking that being in a relationship wasn't something for her. That she simply didn't deserve to be loved.

But that started to change when you arrived in her life. It took Melissa a while to figure out the many confusing feelings she had for you. After several sleepless nights, questioning the butterflies in her stomach that always appeared when you were around, she understood that it was love.

But this realization scared her.

“I know it may seem scary but you have to try. Besides, don't you realize? That girl is crazy about you, just like you are about her,” Barb says trying to calm her, “Believe me, this time you will discover that love doesn't hurt.”

Her words made the redhead remember the moment she realized she was in love with you.

[...]

It was New Year's Eve and Melissa was speeding the night at your house. That same afternoon, she had attended lunch with her family and as much as she loved how festive the other Schemmentis were, but it seemed like something was missing from that environment, and that was you. And this feeling of longing made her run to your place immediately.

Now she was in your bedroom trying to practice on your drum kit, while you were laying down on an improvised pillow fort that both of you built together a couple of days ago. Honestly, playing the drums wasn't something Melissa knew how to do, so she played in a completely clumsy way without being able to find a certain rhythm.

“Schemmenti, you're so fucking terrible at this,” you joked. “It's so easy to learn.”

Pretending to be irritated by your words, the redhead reached for a pillow and threw it in your direction. Prepared to start a pillow fight if challenged.

“Hey!” you grumbled, raising your hands in the air in redemption. “Mel, I’m kidding!”

“Then show me instead of standing there, idiot.”

You slowly approached, sitting next to her on the small bench. “Alright, let me teach you a little.”

You held Melissa's hands in yours, first teaching her how to properly hold the drumsticks. “Hold them tight. And don’t let them slip out of your hands,” you whispered. “Good job, Mel,” you praised her, feeling her hold the drumsticks tighter. She blushed hearing that.

While you were extremely focused, showing her how to play the instrument. Her green eyes watched you with love and adoration, at that moment, she realized how lucky she was to have you by her side.

Her gaze fell to your lips and Melissa wondered if they were as soft as they appeared to be. She also wondered what it would be like to wake up every day next to you, with her arms wrapped around your small waist and with her placing small kisses into your hair. Or what it would be like to kiss and touch your whole body listening to your soft coos while she showed how much she loved you.

She bites her lips with all of those images in her mind.

After hearing the sounds of fireworks, you turn away from the older woman and open your bedroom window and climb up to a small outcropping of the roof. While Melissa watches you curiously, still sitting in front of the drums. "What are you doing? I wouldn’t want you to have an accident in the middle of the New Year.”

“I’m not going to have an accident,” you rolled your eyes, “I just want to see the fireworks!”

Melissa shook her head, finding your excitement adorable, deciding to join you. Carefully sitting by your side, she rested her head on your shoulder and closed her eyes, wanting to enjoy this moment with you forever.

“You know...I kind of missed you at my family's lunch today,” the redhead admitted in a shy tone, feeling her cheeks burn.

That was a surprise for both of you, since you knew that she wasn't very used to physical touches or showing her vulnerable side.

Noticing her nervousness, you said something that made Melissa feel more relaxed again,“I missed you too. Staying with you is so much more fun than being here alone.”

She hummed and snuggled into you even more, making a smile escape your lips. The two of you enjoyed the comfortable silence that settled in. Wishing more good moments like this would happen.

Returning from her memory, Melissa stood up and ignored Barbara's malicious look and headed towards the door ready to go to lunch.

—

You were already in the teachers' lounge, and every time you heard a step, you felt your heart stop. The plan to try to avoid Melissa was still going through your head, but neither option was good, suddenly an idea came.

You threw yourself on the floor and quickly crawled to a table near the windows, hiding under it, the cameras filmed your movements and your friends' confused reactions.

“Y/N! What are you doing?” Janine asks.

“Nothing,” you grumbled, praying to eat in peace, “I'm just having lunch, like a normal person does.”

“You are literally eating under the table. That’s definitely not something you would do and everyone knows that. And it's kind of weird.” Gregory notes.

You were surprised by Ava, who ran in. Not wanting to miss anything she knew was going to happen. The principal loved an entertainment and the whole school knew. “I don’t think Melissa would mind if you said you consider her a milf. She would probably love it, saying it's hot and all of that shit,” she shrugged.

“What?” Jacob questioned.

“AVA!” you scolded her, “You aren't helping! And by the way, how do you know about this?”

“Girl, I know everything. And I must say, it's the funniest thing I've ever seen in my life.”

“What’s going on?” Janine alternates her gaze between the two of you.

You explained everything in detail to all of them who to be honest found it all a bit comical, but seeing the way you were nervous made them take it back.

After hearing Melissa and Barbara's voices, you got scared and shrank even more under the table. Hoping they wouldn't notice you. But that didn't happen. When the redhead entered, all attention quickly went straight to her. The cameras zoomed in on what she was using and everyone was shocked.

“What are you looking at?” She growls in a threatening tone and the teachers return to focusing on their activities, afraid of her. You laughed, that was so Melissa. And that's what ruined the chance to avoid her.

“Dear? What are you doing under the table?” Barbara asks.

“I was just seeing if...the tables were in a good condition! That's it, actually, I have to go now,” you walk towards the door, but a firm hand on your wrist stops you.

“Where are you going? I thought we agreed to have lunch together,” Melissa spoke.

“It’s not a good idea for us to do that,” you pull away from her touch. Waiting for her to give in, but something unexpected happened.

She took the lunch bag from your hands, standing on her tiptoes so as not to let you reach and looking straight into your eyes.

“Give me that back now!” You complain and she shakes her head.

“Tell me, what’s really going on? Why can you barely look at me?” she whispers that last part.

“It doesn't matter.” You respond, feeling your blood rise and your breathing slowly fail.

“Can you stop acting like a child and act like an adult, for once?” She retorts, making you roll your eyes.

“FUCK YOU MELISSA,” you yelled and everyone gasped. In years of working at Abbott, you had never raised your voice to anyone, especially the redhead, “JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!”

Melissa's eyes widened, surprised to see you facing her and saying that stuff. A feeling of pain settled in her body, but obviously she didn't show it.

Impatient and without thinking twice. You threw yourself at the older woman, who got scared, losing her balance. Because of this, both fell to the icy ground.

Melissa hit her back, letting out a groan of pain, seeing what you had caused, you quickly stood up, getting off of her.

“I’m sorry, Lissa. I’m so fucking stupid,” you tremble, feeling tears come out of your eyes.

Feeling overwhelmed, you ran out of the lounge, leaving a bewildered redhead.

“Y/N, PLEASE COME BACK HERE!” Melissa's voice echoed throughout the school, now she was going to worry about trying to fix what the hell had happened between you two. And it wouldn't be easy.

[azsazz]

Brains and Bravado

Kinktober Day 12: Dorian x Reader [Hate-Fucking]

Summary: Anon Req: For kinktober I would like to see either Rowan or Dorian! Maybe reader doesn’t get along with him but they have hate sex a lot and secretly like each other, however, they’re too stubborn (their pride) to admit it. Thank you for writing so many amazing fics for us, I’m excited for kinktober!👻

Based off of the previous ask of Dark Academia!Dorian

Warnings: Smut

Word Count: 3,944

Notes: You'll know the part I yearn for when you read it 😏 the rest is sort of meh

_________________________________________

You dislike Dorian Havilliard very much.

It doesn’t matter that he’s the son to the king or that his best friend is a lord-turned-captain-of-the-royal-guard. Here, he’s just Dorian, an annoying pain-in-the-ass know-it-all that you’ve sworn to demolish with your good grades.

Unfortunately, Dorian is as smart with his head as he is with that tongue.

It’s said tongue of his that always gets him out of trouble. The professors love him, eat up any excuse to fall into his good graces, whether it’s passing him with flying colors or allowing him extra special office hours whenever he should come calling. 

It’s not only the teachers who fall for the boy who makes the ugly, pristinely-pressed uniform look way too good. Everyone laughs at his jokes, flounders over his words even when they have no meaning at all. Girls and boys alike fall to his feet at the charming ways he speaks to them, looks at them, flirtatious to the bone.

You aren’t like that. Intelligent, yes, but your lips don’t curve around your words like Dorian’s do. They are his long-time lover, held near and dear and are cared for. He speaks like an age-old poem, like he’d been an esteemed author in a past life, the way they flow so easily for him. 

No, you can write beautiful sentences, transform letters into works of art, ones that bring tears to the eyes of the beholder, but it’s speaking eloquently that always trips you up. You lack the emotion, the confidence, to really make your words ring true.

The laughter and easiness of the hall seems to dwindle into a silence that only Dorian himself can evoke, and you turn from gathering the textbooks you’ll need for the afternoon to watch. You don’t want to, but for some reason you’re as drawn to him as the rest of the crowd is.

Dorian’s sapphire eyes stir something in your chest, even more so when they flicker down your body and that little smirk appears, the one he knows pisses you off to no end. Your stare turns into a molten glare at that look, and the feeling coursing through your veins must be a hot hatred for the boy striding down the damned halls like he owns the place.

Chaol trails Dorian down the hall like an esteemed purebred, waiting for a treat. He had the glare of a bloodhound too, but it doesn’t do much to ward off the flirtatious glares the prince is receiving. There hasn’t been a single time all year that you’ve seen them apart. They’re even in all of the same classes for Mother’s sake.

That look makes you want to squirm, to claw his eyes out. What a privilege it must be, to be the king’s son, you think, slamming your locker shut with a loud clang and spinning on your heel, stalking down the hall to your next class.

One of the ones that Dorian’s in.

Thankfully, he stops to ogle some girls who’ve hiked their uniform skirts up to their eyes at the appearance of the prince. Chaol, ever the mindful guard, stops with them.

You can feel those gemstone eyes following you down the hall. Of course, everything that Dorian sees in you is only surface level. He doesn’t know your background or the fact that you’d been kept at school over the summer because your parents couldn’t afford for you to come home, all while he was living it up in the lavish palace he calls home.

He doesn’t know that late at night you sneak out of your rooms and into the library. There’s a hidden door in there, tucked away within the vast stacks of a history so ancient, that it makes you shudder to even glance at. You haven’t found the courage to step foot down that particular aisle of books because the raw power in the air makes the hair on your arms stand tall. You had made it your mission to muster the confidence to see what’s behind that door before you graduate, and plan on spending any of your free time searching for other hidden passageways within this centuries old school.

Whilst lost in the thoughts of the door in the library, you almost miss out on the entire lecture. Your professor doesn’t seem to notice because Dorian is answering all the questions she asks, and she’s wooed by his boring responses that even the dunces of the class could explain with flying colors.

By the time you’re released from class, you’ve decided to explore more of the library for hidden doors or books that give off a harrowing aura, when you slam into a wall. Not a wall, but the chest of your rival, Dorian Havilliard.

“Where are you going?” He asks, blocking you from stepping out into the hall.

You haven’t realized that the class had cleared out so quickly, and you shuffle a step backwards, trying to ignore the heat of his body and the way it had felt pressed against yours for a fleeting moment. In a burst of betrayal, that warmth converges between your thighs, and your muscles jump as you try to clench them together without his notice.

“To the library.” You don’t know why you answer, maybe because you’re thrown off by his sudden presence and lack thereof his best friend. Where is Chaol, you wonder, swallowing harshly when Dorian leans against his arm in the doorframe. He’s tall, muscular, and the shape he’s in draws your gaze down his perfect frame.

Something in those sapphire eyes flash, his mouth flattening from his smirk. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am,” you argue. Who is he to tell you what you can and can’t do in your own free time? “I want to get started on the paper Professor Erawan assigned us,” you lie, thankfully remembering that tidbit from class while your mind strayed.

“Then I’ll come with you.” It’s not a suggestion.

You scoff, narrowing your eyes at him, wondering what he could possibly want from you when there are plenty of people willing to give him the attention he’s craving. Dorian straightens and waves you out of the room with a flourish of his hand.

You stare for a long moment, brows furrowed as you try to figure him out. You’re not friends, and you don’t want to be. All you really want is to beat him at his game of wits, be the first in class, and solve the mystery of what’s behind the dark door in the library. None of which needs any involvement from him.

“Please,” you roll your eyes, giving him a wide berth as you step around him into the hall. He immediately steps into line with you, and you try to ignore the way that he’s slowing his gait to stride alongside you. “You’re only coming to flirt with the librarian.”

Dorian’s grin is wolfish, “Why would I flirt with the librarian, when you’re right next to me?”

You trip over your feet at his words. Dorian catches you with a hand around your arm, steadying you. His touch is hot on your skin, and the look in his eyes is hot.

Your heart races in your chest.

Of course, Dorian has an ethereal beauty to him that anyone would consider themselves lucky to be with, but the fact that he’s flirting with you of all people, when all you’ve done all year is argue and bicker like an old married couple confuses you almost as much as the idea of the hidden door in the library.

“I don’t know why you’d flirt with me at all, actually,” you reply when you can finally find your voice. You’re being snippy, but you want the irritatingly handsome boy beside you to go away. He can find a place to stuff his cock elsewhere—you’re nowhere near as easy as the rest of the students in this school. “We don’t like each other.”

“Awe,” Dorian croons. When you glance over at him, he’s wearing a taunting smile, one that fills you with as much warmth as a cup of tea. “Who said I didn’t like you?”

Turning down the corridor to the library, it’s surely unlikely that Dorian will leave your side. You make a show of glancing around as if you’re looking for something, ignoring the way that your heart stammers in your chest at the mention that there’s a possibility he might actually enjoy your presence.

“Where is your little lap dog?”

Dorian barks out a startling laugh. He looks shocked himself, placing a hand to his chest, his cheeks pinkening as his chuckle echoes through the halls. It being the weekend, students and professors alike have fled the school buildings, more than ready to start the fun of the weekend.

You’re pretty sure that you and Dorian are the only ones left in the school.

“Chaol is on errand,” he tells you, sapphire eyes sparkling with interest. “Would you rather have him join?”

He says it like it’s a proposition, like you’d be pressed tightly between both of their bodies, like you’re not walking in through the doors into the expansive library that has more secrets than books.

You shoot Dorian a sidelong glance, your brows furrowed in confusion. He’s acting nothing like the Dorian you’re used to. Well, sure, he’s still the cocky prince you know, but the flirting is new. He’s staring ahead, like what he’s said hasn’t just thrown you completely off axis.

“Here looks good,” you mutter, sliding your books onto one of the large wooden tables lining the walls. Anything to fill the silence. It’s eerie in a building like this, stacks upon stacks of books filled with puzzles you’ve yet to piece together.

“You’re actually studying?” Dorian sounds affronted, like he can’t believe that studying is something done in a library at all. Like it’s some sort of secret brothel or a place for his conquests.

You wouldn’t put it past him.

“I told you I was going to study,” you bite, “What did you think I was going to do?”

You regret the words almost as quickly as they leave your lips.

“I thought you invited me so that you could sneak your hands down my trousers. Wear my tie around your neck while I take you over the table, perhaps?”

“I didn’t invite you at all,” you fight, but your voice is as weak as the knees you’re pressing tightly together, trying to ignore the sudden interest your cunt has in his words.

You gasp when you’re suddenly turned around, Dorian pressing in close. He’s staring down at you like you’re his favorite treat, sapphire eyes dark with interest, want, and a tinge of…hate? Annoyance, maybe, because you’re putting up much more of a fight than he’s used to.

His cock twitches at that.

“Do you want me to leave?” He asks, and the tenor of his voice rumbles deliciously against your chest. His scent is intoxicating, and you’re sure that his calloused fingers would feel just as good pressed against your skin as they are pinning your hips to the edge of the table.

Your brain must be on the fritz. Maybe you’ve stepped through that scary, looming, ancient door into another world because this cannot be happening. This isn’t Dorian.

“Why me?” you voice is quiet, a minute tremble to it that makes Dorian’s lashes flutter. He shifts on his feet, and you bite back the groan that crawls up your throat at the feeling of his hardening cock in his pants against your front. “Why now?”

He leans down to whisper in your ear, his long fingers tucking your hair tenderly behind your ear. The motion has your thighs clenching. His breath is a warm caress as he says, “Because I love it when you fight me. And I’ve had enough of keeping myself at bay. Hate me, if you must, but please let me fuck you.”

 “Yes,” you sigh, and the word is barely out of your mouth before Dorian’s lips are against yours, hot and unyielding, ravaging you completely like a predator does it prey.

His fingers clutch at your clothes, curling into the fabric in a feral sort of need that has you gasping, has your cunt weeping and lightning zipping through your veins. You chase the feeling, rolling your hips against Dorian’s.

You don’t know what’s come over you. The taste of his lips is exquisite and much sweeter than the vitriol the both of you are usually spitting at each other. His scent invades your senses—ice, ocean, magic, and musk. It consumes you as much as his presence is right now, overwhelmed by not just the primal need for you in his life but because of the strange events that have led you from loathing the boy lying you back onto the wooden table.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he pants when you arch into his body. His breath is hot, mingling with your own as you gasp for air. Dorian’s cheeks are flushed a pretty pink, matching the color of his swollen lips that he darts his tongue across, chasing your taste. His sapphire eyes are all pupil, dark and consuming and hungry for more. “Spread those pretty legs for me.”

You follow his instruction like a person cursed, thighs spreading wide for Dorian as he stands to his full height. His eyes burn a thousand fires down your body as he takes his time drinking you in, the gentle caress of his hands following the same torturous path has shivers awakening across every inch of your body.

“Dorian,” you plead, but he’s too engrossed with taking his time. His fingers curl around the waistband of your pants, flicking the button open with ease and guiding them down your legs.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he admits, utterly distracted by the sight of your creamy thighs on display for him. He bites back the smirk that’s threatening to appear on his lips when you impatiently start kicking your pants down your legs with a frustrated and desperate keen. It makes his cock twitch, a bead of precum leak from the tip into the fabric of his underwear.

At the sight of your soaked panties calling to him like a siren, Dorian has to press his palm firmly against his aching cock, trying to keep himself from orgasming right now.

“How long?” you ask. Your fingers curl into the wood of the table because you need something to hold onto, and Dorian’s just out of reach. Your cheeks heat with arousal as those sapphire eyes zero in on your nipples where they’re tight and straining against your shirt. You don’t know why you feel the sudden urge to know how long he’s been thinking of you like this, why now is the time he’s finally decided to make his move, but you need to know his answer. “How long have you wanted me lying out for you like this, Dorian?”

His name sounds like heaven on your tongue, and he groans, releasing himself, his resolve snapping as he bends to take your mouth again.

You moan loudly, languidly. Dorian’s tongue brushes against yours and the feeling zips to your cunt as you imagine the feeling of his mouth sucking your clit, his tongue plunging inside of your dripping cunt like a starved male.

He hastily shoves up the fabric of your shirt, sneaking beneath the material of your bra to palm your breasts. You bury your fingers deeply into his hair, tugging on it when he tries to part from you. You didn’t know how desperately you’ve needed this—needed him—but now that his admission is out in the open and has you rethinking your dislike for the prince, you don’t want him to part from you.

“Since the first day we met,” Dorian breathes against your mouth. Your body goes slack with shock at the thought, fingers falling from his locks. Dorian doesn’t seem to notice, taking advantage of finally being free from you to mouth his way down your throat, burying his head beneath your shirt for a taste of your flesh.

You’d met Dorian years ago, on the first day of your time at school here. He was just as popular then as he is now, and just as cheeky, too. All you can recall from that day is the way how all of the other students were falling over their feet for a chance to befriend the prince. You’d wanted nothing to do with that, even when he’d stopped at your locker and tried to use his charm to get you to switch with him.

He had made a joke in poor taste, one that annoyed you enough to rebuttal with words not polite for someone of your status to say to a member of royalty, ever.

That was when you started to dislike Dorian Havilliard.

That sentiment is beginning to change, especially when he rolls one of your nipples gently between his teeth.

You cry out in pleasure, trying to grind your hips against his as you writhe beneath him on the table. Your arch, pressing your breasts into his mouth and he hums encouragingly, even more so when he hears the sound you make in response.

Dorian brushes his knuckles across your clothed cunt, reveling in how responsive you are for him when he’s barely done a thing. After this, he hopes that you won’t go back to hating him because he doesn’t think he can bear it, now that he has the taste of your engraved on his tongue.

He abandons post between your breasts, sliding his way down your body, kissing, licking, teasing every inch of skin that he can before he arrives at his desired destination. He settles himself between your legs, jerking your closer to him, your legs over his shoulders and ass leaning precariously on the edge of the table.

“Sweetheart?” he questions, and it takes effort for you to lift your head to look at him. Your body is burning with need, thighs trembling with anticipation. Your gaze is cloudy with lust and it takes you a few blinks to dispel it, giving Dorian your attention.

You scowl at the smirk gracing his lips. “What?”

“Do you still dislike me?”

Your heart thunders in your chest as you watch Dorian pull your panties to the side with long fingers that you know could hit every neglected spot inside of you. The cool air from the library breezes across your wetness along with the heat of his breath and it sends your mind into a dizziness of desire that forces you to take a moment to catch your breath.

“If I say yes?” you ask, biting your lip. Will he stop? Pretend that this was all some sort of game? A bet that he and Chaol had going on? Will he pop out from between bookshelves to laugh?

Before your mind can grasp onto one of those thoughts and overthink it, Dorian says with a twinkle to his sapphire eyes, “I’d say that you’re not going to after this.”

And then the prince feasts.

You fall back to the table with a cry of satisfaction. The thud of your head smacking the wood echoes throughout the library but you hardly feel a thing as Dorian licks a fat stripe up your clit. He doesn’t hesitate to bury himself in your cunt, fucking his tongue into you with fervor. Your thighs are already threatening to clamp shut around his head but his strong hold keeps them splayed wide as he devours you.

“Princeling,” you whine when you feel the tidal wave of orgasm building. You don’t know where the nickname comes from, somewhere buried as deeply inside of you as Dorain’s tongue is, but it has him growling against your cunt, trapping your clit between his teeth and flicking his tongue across it faster.

There’s nowhere for you to go, nowhere to squirm with the feeling that crashes over you because Dorian’s strength is pinning you to the table. Your fingers find his scalp, biting in, and Dorian welcomes the feeling, using that wicked tongue on you even when the wave crashes and you’re trying to shove him weakly away from your aching clit.

The reprieve of Dorian pulling away doesn’t last long. He straightens to his full height, keeping your legs hooked over his shoulders. It causes your body to slide even closer to him, your wet cunt butting right up against his cock that’s straining so hard in his pants that it’s painful.

“You’ll never call me anything else. Promise me,” he says, and with that harsh look in his eyes and the way that his lips glisten with your orgasm, you could never say no.

Dorian unsheathes himself, unbuttoning his trousers and pulling them down just enough that his cock springs free from its confines. He takes himself in hand, eyes wild with desire as he slides himself through your slickness.

Your breath is choked when you respond, “I promise.”

It’s pressed from your lungs completely with each inch his cock plunges into you. Your nails scrape against the wood of the table, the finishing catching beneath your nails. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at the feeling of him stretching you wide, Dorian’s low groan reflecting the one that your body is desperate to release but is unable to.

His curse is sinful when his hips finally meet yours. He’s staring down at you like you’re everything to him. Like you’re his queen.

“Dorian,” you gasp.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Move.”

Move he does. Dorian’s hands meet your hips and your fingers clamp down on his forearms as he thrusts his hips. He loves the marks you’re leaving on his skin, the way you’re branding him with your hot, wet cunt wrapped tightly around him. There’s a sheen to his eyes that shifts something in your soul. You can feel it splintering out of your chest, winding through your veins and into Dorian’s where you’re connected.

He seems to feel it too, with the way that he leans over you again to capture your mouth against his.

“You will be my ending,” Dorian breathes when he’s able to pull himself away from you. He doesn’t go far, his lips brushing yours with his confession. “I would give you my last breath if it meant keeping you alive, but I’m selfish enough to admit that I’d waste it because I cannot imagine a plane of existence where I am without you.”

“Dorian!” You shudder with his words, hiss because how can one male be so good with words? So good with his fingers, his tongue, his cock? The way that he’s hitting that spot again and again and again is driving you over the edge into an oblivion that he follows you into because he meant what he just said.

You revel in the weight of his body collapsing against yours while he paints the walls of your cunt with his cum. You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him tucked deeply inside of you. Your hearts beat loudly against each other, a heady drum of confessions and more.

You peck Dorian once, twice when your mind clears, trying to pull him from the stupor your cunt has put him in. He’s never felt like this before, never had sex this good. Even when you’re spewing fire at him, he’s wanted this, wanted you from the moment he set those sapphire eyes on you.

And now he has you.

[pinkaditty]

Who's Passing NNN? Tokyo Debunker Pt 2

this is SO cliche i know. please. let me... have this...

a/n: 2 posts in less than 24 hours!?!?! yes!!! enjoy, please. im kinda proud of these. not even gonna tell y'all how i am bc u already know. quick disclaimer that i write these under the assumption the tokyo debunker boys are at least 18 years old. they appear to be present at a university considering there are professors and a chancellor. not to mention the boys drink, smoke, gamble, and refer to themselves as adults. summary: part 2 of the whole 'who out of the tokyo debunker boys is passing NNN?' thing. pretty self-explanatory. cw: fictional men jorking it!!!!!! MINORS DNI!!!!!!!! not really proofread i fear Frostheim || Vagastrom || Jabberwock || Sinostra || Hotarubi || Obscuary || Mortkranken (jabberwock already written yea currently working on sinostra)

MINORS DNI AS USUAL! THANK YOU FOR RESPECTING MY BOUNDARY!

Vagastrom:

Alan Mido: Fail

NOW! Before you jump me! He failed by accident. Forgot it was November. Needed to get his rocks off after everything pissing him off for a while. Sometimes though, he manages to hold out for a while. 

He’s working on a car right now, laying on the car roller, fixing it up after an unfortunate accident while dealing with an external anomaly. He lets his thoughts wander as he fixes the car. So many things had pissed him off this week. Ishibashi needing to meet at ridiculous times, Leo being unreliable, even his grades slipping. This car was just one of them. Maybe he needed to blow off some steam. Maybe he could go for a drive? No, not enough. Spar? No, he’d already taken enough of Sho’s time. Maybe… a different way? 

A sudden itch makes itself known just as he thinks that. He stiffens under the car, clenching his jaw. None of that. He was in the garage. He had to hold it together. He shakes his head and continues working on the car, ignoring the itch. He tries to come up with other ways to blow off steam. Studying, exercising, anything. The itch grows stronger. He sighs angrily and forces his attention on the car. He was in the garage, for fuck’s sake. The itch continues and then grows into a twitch. He presses his thighs together on impulse, before realizing how that may look and coughing, spreading his legs apart again. He bites his tongue and continues fixing the car as the twitching persists. His face becomes flushed and his composure cracks just a little. He couldn’t ignore his twitching cock forever.

And, maybe it’d be a good way to blow off some steam… 

Shohei Haizono: Pass

Well. As much as it seems like he may have a crazy sex drive, and as much as I would like to subscribe to that idea, I just don’t think it’s true. He doesn’t have a strong one. That said, he hardly goes a month without masturbating. He manages, but when he goes so long without it, it can get kinda frustrating. 

There were far too many customers today, he thinks. He’d gone several days without being able to wind down, since his food truck had been so busy. He’s glad for the success, but it’s become so time-consuming. The feeling had come out of nowhere, but since the last few customers and all throughout cleaning up, he’d been feeling a little pent up. His half-hard cock pressed insistently against his pants as he wiped down the counter, ensuring it was clean before he let out an exhausted sigh. The cool night air responded with crickets chirping and some owls hooting. 

Well… There wasn’t anyone around. 

Before he knows it, he’s turned off the lights, tucked himself underneath the counter where he wouldn’t be visible, and has eagerly pulled his cock out. He can’t be bothered to care about his surroundings as he starts, biting the sleeve of his uniform to prevent himself from being heard. Unfortunately, some light, breathy groans escape through the fabric of his shirt, but the noise mingles well with the pap pap pap sound of his hand over his cock and the shuffling sound of his legs opening and closing, overwhelmed with pleasure. His body shakes as he releases, careful to catch it in his palms, not wanting to have to clean again. When clarity finally hits, he sighs and shakes his head, observing his mess. God, how many sanitation laws did he just break?

And… did he remember to close the window?

Leo Kurosagi: Pass (Miserably)

Had to be clear. Yes, he passes, but barely, and miserably so. He’s doing it for clout and he’s posting about it, too. He’s letting his fans run wild with speculation at his announcement and letting them make all the claims they want when he successfully completes it. However, I’m quite confident that the second it was December 1st, Leo couldn’t fucking stand it anymore.

November 31st, 11:59pm. He lays on his bed with a half-hard cock pressing unyieldingly against his boxers and his phone in his hand with a drafted post congratulating himself for completing NNN, ready to be sent the moment that clock hit December 1st, 12:00am. He keeps his eyes fixated on the time, letting his hand drift downwards and hold himself through his pajama pants. The time still hasn’t changed. He gives himself a light squeeze, and is shocked at the needy sigh that passes through his lips. Fuck, he just needed this time to change. He just needed this time to change. He bites his lip, keeping the pressure on his cock as he gently strokes through his pants. He shifts his legs around, progressively getting more and more antsy as he stared at the time. 11:59 still. Who knew a minute could last so fucking long? He continues stroking gently, getting himself to full mast, twitching the entire time. 

Just as he’s about to give up, the time changes. 12:00am at last. He hurriedly presses “Post” and practically tosses his phone to the side, reaching inside his pajama pants and boxers to wrap a hand around his stiffened cock. He wastes no time in stroking, surprising even himself with his needy whines and unintelligible phrases and throaty moans. He spreads his legs apart and grips his thigh with his free hand, speeding up his pace. He moans through gritted teeth before his eyes roll back and his jaw goes slack, yielding a strangled moan as he covers his hands and pajamas with his release. He allows his legs to collapse on the bed, and picks up his phone again, checking his post. 

1k likes, 200 comments. It was 12:01am. Sheesh, that didn’t take him long at all…

a/n: wowee! i spit this out at 2am yesterday and fine-tuned it 2day so enjoy. eat this. i will be back 2 post jabberwock's soon, hopefully.

note that, as per usual, i enjoy likes, comments, and reblogs!! please tell me how much you enjoyed my work!

[schlattslambo]

hot for teacher | schlatt 18+

A/n: this has truly been burning my brain. reader is female presenting. I will work on some more gender neutral stuff in the future I promise!! Please enjoy<3

C/w: spanking, name calling (slut), power dynamic (teacher x student), spitting, use of daddy towards the end

——————————

Why you decided to go back to college to get another degree, you have no idea. All you know is that this class is boring as hell and you aren’t sure why it’s even needed for your degree. The only upside was the fact that it was your first class of the day so you could get it over with. Plus the professor was kind of hot too.

It’s a warm day today, way warmer than it should be for this time of year, so you decide to show a little skin to your writing class. Your skirt is just long enough to cover your ass, and your shirt is low cut and cropped. Honestly, it’s like you’re not even wearing a shirt at all.

You walk into the classroom, plopping down in the back like you usually do.

“Ms (y/n),” Your professor says from the front of the room. “Come and see me please.”

You roll your eyes. Mr Schlatt might be hot, but he was strict. He didn’t allow gum chewing, eating or drinking - except water, of course- and locked his classroom 5 minutes after it was meant to start so nobody who was late could get in. He constantly got under your skin about your writing and your formatting, and was seeming to start early with his criticisms of you today.

“Yes, Mr Schlatt?” You ask, crossing your arms.

“Did you leave the rest of your clothes at home?” Mr Schlatt asks, raising an eyebrow.

“No, stupid, this is it.” You scoff.

Mr Schlatt could take a lot, but seeing you like that, acting all defiant and shit pissed him off. He wanted to knock you down a peg or two. His jaw works as he glares at you.

“What do you want?” You ask.

“I wanted to see you because your last essay was all over the place.” Mr Schlatt says. “It had a good foundation, but it could use some work.”

“Did I fail the assignment, or what?” You snap. “I worked hard on that essay!”

“You would receive a 50, which is failing,” Mr Schlatt pauses. “This essay is a large part of your grade, and your grade is already low enough as it is.”

“What??” You yelp. “How could I fail?! This is ridiculous!”

“I want you to redo the essay.” Mr Schlatt adds, reaching into his desk and pulling out a piece of paper and handing it to you. “This is an essay template. I’d like for you to come in during any free time that you have and work on it with me.”

You glare at him. “I’m not redoing that fucking essay.” You growl.

Mr Schlatt’s eyes darken in a way that you’ve never seen before. He takes off his glasses and places them down gently before his eyes go back to you. Your eyes widen slightly at how scary he looks.

“First off, you do not speak to me like that.” Mr Schlatt says. “Second, you will be redoing this essay. It is not a full rewrite, it is just a large edit. If you do not do this, you will receive a zero for it. And that zero would make you fail the class and you will not graduate. Am I clear?”

Your eyes widen. Surely he’s joking. This is college for fucks sake! He can’t have this power over you. Especially over some essay.

“You can’t do that!” You yell.

“I can and I will,” Mr Schlatt says. “Now, from what I’ve learned over the course of the semester is that you typically have some free time around 1pm. I’d like you to come back here at 1 so we can go over this work.”

With that, Mr Schlatt dismisses you. You stomp over to your seat and plop down, taking out your phone. You barely work in the class out of defiance, but catch Mr Schlatt glancing at you. You glare at him and he just shakes his head, leaning over to help another student.

Two classes later, you figure it’s best to just go back to Mr Schlatt’s classroom. You need to graduate. You hate college and want to get out as fast as possible. You barge into the room, making Mr Schlatt look up at you. He heaves a sigh.

You have to be Mr Schlatt’s least favorite student, but he cannot stop thinking about how you need to be put in your place. You are a student, and he is a professor. He deserves respect, and you’re going to give him that respect one way or another.

“Glad to see that you came back,” Mr Schlatt says.

It’s the end of his day and his tie is loosened, his sleeves are rolled up, and his hair is messy. You sit in the seat across from his desk and look at him while he finishes scribbling something down. Turning the paper over, he looks at you.

“Let’s get this over with.” You sigh.

The first few minutes of the edit are simple enough. You sigh and try and add in the notes that Mr Schlatt left for you.

“This is stupid,” You grumble. “Why can’t you just pass me?”

“I want you out of my class just as much as you want to get out of it,” Mr Schlatt says. “But I can’t just pass you because you want to leave. You have to earn that right.”

You sit quietly for a moment, then a smirk breaks out on your face.

“Is there any other way that you could pass me?” You ask, twirling some hair around your finger.

Mr Schlatt’s eyes narrow. “No,” He grits. “Now finish writing.”

Thankfully for him, you don’t notice Mr Schlatt’s pants becoming tighter at the crotch. You’re pushing his limits and if you don’t stop soon, you’re going to be pushed into his office’s supply closet and taught a lesson.

“You’re too hot to be this rude,” You grumble.

“You’re too old to be this defiant.” Mr Schlatt snaps back. “You have two seconds to continue this last paragraph or I’m kicking you out and you can fail the class.”

You look up at him and smirk. “Make me.”

The band holding Mr Schlatt back snaps and he stands up, slamming his palms on the wooden desk.

“Get into my office,” He growls. “Now.”

You jump at the loud noise as your eyes widen. You stare up at Mr Schlatt dumbfounded.

“Did I stutter?” He asks. “Get up and get into my office.”

You stand up so quickly that the chair that you were sitting in nearly falls over. Mr Schlatt leads you into his office and closes the door, locking it. You’re speechless, but the slowly growing puddle in your panties speaks volumes.

With two long strides, Mr Schlatt is inches from your face. He’s so close that you can smell the whiskey that he puts in his coffee to deal with students like you. Your knees nearly give out but you lean against the wall.

“You’ve been pushing me and pushing me (y/n).” Mr Schlatt breathes. “I’m so close to losing control.”

You smile softly. “Then lose control.” You reply.

“You sure about that, dollface?” Mr Schlatt smirks. “I don’t think you’ll be able to handle it.”

“Try me.” You reply.

In a swift motion, you’re grabbed and bent over the wooden desk in Mr Schlatt’s office. He kicks your ankles apart and presses his crotch against your ass, yanking your hair back. You gasp and bite your lip.

“Now, (y/n),” Mr Schlatt breathes. “This is your last chance to back out.”

“No way.” You sigh.

“Stubborn little slut,” Mr Schlatt grumbles, landing a harsh smack on your ass. “Now be fuckin’ quiet. Can’t have anyone hearing what a slut you are.”

Before you can respond, Mr Schlatt’s thick fingers find their way between your legs and to your swollen clit. Your knees finally give out, but thankfully you’re lying on the desk.

“Oh fuck,” you whine.

“You’re already so wet,” Mr Schlatt smirks. “Is this from being a defiant brat?”

You can’t help but nod as he presses against the nub, pleasure shooting through you. You yelp as your shorts and panties are ripped down, exposing your ass.

“I think you need an attitude adjustment, don’t you?” Mr Schlatt leans down, his breath hot against your ear.

You watch as he grabs a ruler off of the desk and you squirm against him.

“No!” You manage. “I don’t need an attitude adjustment!”

Mr Schlatt ignores you and pins your hands behind your back. Your eyes screw shut and you whimper softly. The defiance is gone and your clit throbs as you wait for the ruler to smack your ass.

“Count ‘em for me, slut.” Mr Schlatt says before the ruler comes down on your ass with a harsh slap.

“Fuck!” You yelp. “One.”

Smack.

Smack.

SMACK.

The ruler snaps as tears begin to fall. Mr Schlatt tosses the other piece of the ruler to the side before rubbing a soothing hand on your ass.

“Now, have you learned your lesson?” Mr Schlatt asks, releasing your wrists.

“Mhm.” You sniffle.

“Atta girl.” Mr Schlatt praises. “Now since you took that so well, turn over.”

He helps you turn onto your back and as soon as you’re facing him, he kneels.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“Rewarding you, the fuck’s it look like I’m doing?” Mr Schlatt asks, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh.

His facial hair tickles slightly, making goosebumps rise on your skin. The closer his kisses get to your center, the more desperate you get. You’re nearly dripping on the desk now and can barely take anymore. So, you grip Mr Schlatt’s hair and tug, shoving his face into your cunt. He grunts in surprise but then starts licking.

He switches from soft featherlike licks to harsh sucking. You look down at the man between your legs, and he’s flushed, eating you out like it’s his last goddamn meal. He’s slurping up your juices and the way his eyes are closed and his arms are wrapped around your thighs bring you closer.

“F-fuck, Mr Schlatt…” You moan. “You feel so good.”

Mr Schlatt looks up at you and his pupils are blown. His normal chocolate brown eyes are nearly black as he pulls away from your pussy, a string of juices and saliva connecting the two of you.

“Daddy.” He rasps.

“Huh?”

“Call me Daddy.”

You smile down and grip his hair, shoving his face back where you need it most. The action makes his cock twitch in his pants and precum dot at his tip. A harsh suck on your clit makes you arch your back.

“Daddy, fuck!” You mewl. “Keep doing that.”

Mr Schlatt groans against you, reaching up and probing your wet hole with his thick finger. He slides it in effortlessly and is quick to find the spot that makes your vision blur.

Your thighs clench on his head as you feel the tightness in your stomach. The grip that you have on his hair is like iron as you grind your hips. Your orgasm hits you like a truck, your hole squeezing Mr Schlatt’s finger like a vice. He allows you to ride it out, the noises you’re making only driving him closer to his own orgasm.

With one minor leg adjustment, Mr Schlatt’s cock brushes against his zipper just right and he cums. He groans against you, hips thrusting into nothing. He’s sure he looks pathetic, but he doesn’t give a fuck. He’s got his hottest student’s pussy in his mouth right now.

He pulls back once you’re done and stands up. You gasp as he grips your jaw with a smile.

“Open.” He orders.

You allow your jaw to go slack and Mr Schlatt allows a big glob of spit to land in your mouth. You swallow, tasting yourself.

“Good girl.” Mr Schlatt praises, patting your cheek.

“Am I gonna pass?” You ask, looking up at him through your lashes.

“We might have to have a few more meetings to go over things, but I think you’ll manage a passing grade.”

You leave Mr Schlatt’s office that afternoon and walk off, your clit still throbbing. You’re sure the next few meetings aren’t going to be nearly as boring as you thought they would be.

[threebooksoneplot]

what draws you both to jalice/makes you so feral about them as a ship?

you should know we had an entire meeting in order to answer this ask. no this could NOT have been an email (unlike new moon) 🤭

Secretary G took notes. they are as follows (read the bolded parts for a tl;dr)

we kind of see it as though jalice got the traits that edbella weren’t allowed to have, either due to their status as protagonists or because smeyer's mormon background causes her to view these qualities as too sinful/negative for her wholesome Waiting Until Marriage main couple. (examples: alice's materialistic, "shallow," hyperfeminine qualities, her character flaws (especially her manipulativeness), and jasper's aura and history of fucked up violence closer to what you'd find in traditional vampire stories/horror/adult gothics/books not written by a mormon author)

in terms of how much screentime the non-main-love-triangle canon couples get, their relationship is kiiiinda given the next-most weight to edbella’s (examples: jasper's extreme overprotectiveness, the New Moon chapter 19 moment where alice prioritizes jasper and bella is like “yeah I get it, I would do the same.”) basically smeyer gives jalice's relationship a lot of the qualities she finds romantic/ideal, (and which are either similarly romantic to us or entertainingly toxic/a good source of drama), presumably because alice is like her 4th-favorite character after the main love triangle and she wants nice things for her

we both really love how, superficially, as presented in the books, jasper and alice seem to have this almost “courtly love” that smeyer has described as "spiritual." yet when you look closer, their relationship has so many darker undertones—the deep codependency bordering on obsessiveness (mutual, but especially the way it manifests on jasper's end—"I will kill this random teen girl who witnessed edward's jean valjean moment™ because any means are justifiable when the ends are Protecting Alice"), the dark sides of both of their powers, the idea that jasper is only a cullen and/or only a vegetarian for alice's sake, etc. hell, even the fact that they're the only Cullen couple who we know had (gasp) premarital sex 😏 (I mean we assume rosemmett did too, but alas, they don't have that hilarious "carlisle convinced jasper and alice to get married" quote from smeyer)

partially summarized: "jasper’s general desperate willingness to sell everyone to satan for one corn chip if it keeps alice safe (carlisle: I know this and I love you)"

we're forever smug that the movies gave us even more jalice screentime (especially remarkable in such a protagonist-centric universe), including jasper being in the same grade as alice/bella/edward, and the extra jalice kisses in Eclipse and BD 🥺

what we wrote down as the “who’s protecting whom" phenomenon, as coined by G in this old ask. (shannon: "jasper is the toddler you've given the PS2 controller that's not plugged in")

we also like the characters individually. jasper is for the girlies with competency kinks—a stoic caretaker who speaks little and mostly expresses himself via acts of service. we also both love the way in which he needs protection from his own uncontrolled violence (slipping up and killing humans, suffering the pain and fear he inflicts, etc.) he is, in the words of our beloved @liceparade, the "line cook trauma boyfriend"

“It’s hot when there’s a fictional violent man who wet babygirl 😌” —shannon

and alice, unlike bella, genuinely loves being spoiled and bossing people around. she's brat-coded, she's confident and secure in who she is, her god complex ("I'm close enough [to omniscient]") causes fascinating conflict, bella eats drywall from sheer horniness at her merest movement, she dresses like a slut in the Mormon YA Novels and yet somehow escapes authorial condemnation, she has a sickass gothic heroine backstory, she's "annoying," aro started a whole war over her (eat shit helen of troy 🖕), she spaces out in public and has to be led around by jasper, she's one of the most powerful vampires in the world, she's in high school getting a C+ on her precalc test 💅🏻

it's appealing that smeyer frequently puts alice in the center of the series' various conflicts (james' singer and "one that got away," the accidental cause of all the drama at the end of new moon, one of aro's secret True motives for starting the conflict in BD.) this is mostly as a consequence of smeyer using alice as a plot device and/or deus ex machina, but it is in fact interesting

is alice jasper's morality chain? we love pondering this question via fic, meta, etc (especially because...alice ain't exactly a model of ethical behavior herself)

together, the two of them exhibit lots of classic tropes. they're grumpy x sunshine, chatty x silent, opposites attract, etc. to say nothing of that height difference 🥵

we love the yin/yang symbolism of a character with a horrific past paired with a character with NO memory of her past, who is focused on the future and all about potential. not to invoke an ancient phrase but POETIC CINEMA

the next note just says “POTENTIAL in general.” I assume we meant how all of the above stuff creates potential for interesting stories, conflicts, metas, art, fic, etc

G has brought this up in the past, but we love the irony of jasper, a character whose chief desire is to be left in peace, being soul-alteringly in love with the one character who will always be a giant glaring target through no fault of her own. hilarious

[lil13]

Pov: Enemies to lovers. Specifically, Ethan is your academic rival and you absolutely hate him. Or so you think.

•

You walked through the door of Sam, Tara, and Quinn’s New York apartment with Mindy and Anika in tow. Mindy was your roommate, someone you’ve known since preschool, so it wasn’t a question that the two of you would be roommates.

“T, please tell me this is going to be a girl’s night.” You asked, falling down on the couch you had taken 1 too many naps on over the past few months you all lived in the city.

After the most recent stabbings, you all managed to get into a summer program at Blackmore. The excuse was that you wanted to get ahead in college, but the real reason was you all couldn’t stand to be in Woodsboro any longer.

A blush rose on Tara’s cheeks and you knew that your girl’s night was in jeopardy. “Chad… might be coming.”

“If he brings his fucking, smart ass roommate i’m leaving.”

Mindy scoffed, sitting down on the couch with you. “Relax, Y/n, if he brings him, just ignore him. I don’t understand the beef between you two… I know why I don’t like him.”

The girl Meeks-Martin twin claimed that Ethan Landry — Chad’s roommate and your self-proclaimed mortal enemy — was not to be trusted. Ever since Amber and Richie, Mindy rarely trusted another person.

“There are a lot of reasons as to why I hate him, but one of them has to do with our Econ class.”

Sam handed you a beer, knowing you needed to be somewhat buzzed if the curly-headed boy was coming over. “Econ?”

“Yes, Econ, he’s… too good at it.” You scoffed, “He consistently has the highest average in the class and—”

“You’re not used to being second to anyone.” Tara connected the dots, clinking her beer bottle with yours.

You had been the Valedictorian in high school, #1 overall. So, coming to Blackmore and having this curly-headed boy so easily beat you out aggravated you. Since you realized he was your academic rival, you began finding more and more about him that bothered you. That way you’d hate him instead of only being jealous of him.

Jealousy bothered you.

On a list of things about the boy that bothered you:

His hair was too curly.

He was too nice.

He remembered details about everyone, down to their favorite m&m color.

He was a virgin.

He was insanely attractive, yet still single.

His study habits didn’t make sense, he got perfect grades and she had yet to actually see him study (but then again you didn’t try to see him at all).

You could go on and on.

“Knock, knock.” Chad’s voice rang through the apartment.

Two sets of footsteps could be heard and you groaned, Ethan had in fact tagged along. You chugged the rest of your beer, letting the alcohol course through your veins. Sam obviously saw this and brought you another, having it already opened for you.

“If I was into girls, Sam.” he winked at her and she laughed.

Chad and Ethan both sat on the couch and Quinn made you sit up to make room for the rest. Unfortunately for you, when you sat up, Ethan was directly next to you.

“For fucks sake.” you muttered, sinking back into the couch.

Tara and Mindy fought over the movie you all were to watch and you somehow landed on a scary movie you hadn’t heard of, but it was a group thing — you only watched scary movies.

Mindy and Anika were cuddled up and so were Tara and Chad. Quinn and Sam flanked the rest of the group. You and Ethan? You were dreading being in the same room as each other.

Time went and the week’s events and your now 3 beers had caught up with you, you were exhausted and somewhat drunk. Everyone was asleep and you couldn’t help but think how good of an idea it was.

You’d had a busy week, midterms had kicked your ass. You might’ve only slept an average of 3 hours each night. So, sitting still for an extended period of time made sleep want to come quicker. You gave in and let your head fall to the side, not even caring that it landed on Ethan’s shoulder.

“Y/N.” Ethan muttered, trying to make sure you were aware that you had your head on his shoulder — knowing of your hatred toward him.

Unbeknownst to you, the hatred was very much one sided. Ethan had the biggest crush on you. It was almost embarrassing, truly he wondered how you hadn’t noticed yet.

You were one of the main reasons as to why he was still single.

“Shut the fuck up, E.” you waved him off, “I’m aware you’re who i’m laying on, but everyone else is too far away.”

The movie continued to play and you got yourself comfortable, more of your body now lay on Ethan’s. You tried to ignore the feeling that surged through your body at the contact between your bodies. Your bodies were so close that Ethan’s hand almost had to rest on your thigh, you gave him no space to put it anywhere else.

Your eyes were pulled away from the screen when you felt movement on your thigh. Ethan was absentmindedly tapping on your leg and for some reason it was driving you crazy. Each tap from a finger sending electricity through your leg.

It was too much.

So, you jumped up from your spot, successfully making Ethan jump. “Y/N, what the hell?”

You shook your head and stumbled to the kitchen. Time for another beer.

You were quick to open another, number 4.


Before you were joined in the kitchen, by none other than Ethan, you’d downed half of it. His eyes were wide as he reached over to slip it out of your hands. “That’s enough, Y/N.” A laugh fell from his lips.

You pouted, reaching for the bottle, but the boy held it out of reach. “E.” you whined.

The boy faltered, his hand dropping just enough for you to snatch the beer back. Another sip.

“Y/N.” he reached for the beer again.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, some of the beer had spilled. Enough to make Ethan slip when he lunged forward, making him fall, taking you down with him.

Luckily, the fall didn’t hurt you too much, but now you were pinned underneath the boy.

“Ethan, you’re on top of me.” you whined again.

You could feel his heart beating against your chest. Was he nervous?

“Y/N, why do you hate me?” His voice sounded soft, almost as if he were hurt by your hatred.

He looked like a sad puppy and it made your heart hurt.

A sigh fell from your lips, “In all honesty, the only valid reason was that you’re better than me and Econ. My… my academics are all that I have, E. It’s all my parents cared about… you wouldn’t understand.”

Ethan let out a shaky breath, one of his hands came up to your face, his thumb running over your cheek. “I understand more than you know.” Your breath hitched at the skin-to-skin contact.

He must’ve noticed, because his eyes shot back to yours.

“I don’t actually hate you.” you whispered, his brown eyes were captivating.

The curly-headed boy stared at you breathlessly, his eyes now were flickering from yours to your lips. You paused for a second, thinking about what to do next. Should you kiss him, try to escape, or wait for him to grow a pair and kiss you?


All seemed like good options?

However, if you and Ethan did kiss — laying on the kitchen floor covered in beer — you’d have to admit to the others that you didn’t actually hate the boy. In reality, your hatred had just stemmed from an insecurity.

So, you did it. You took the risk and lifted your head off of the ground, closing the small gap between you and Ethan. Your lips connected and it was like the final missing puzzle piece had been found. His lips fit perfectly with yours, no matter how cliche it sounded.

The hand he’d had on your cheek now held the back of your neck, holding your face to his. His heartbeat also hadn’t slowed, if anything, it got faster.

After a few seconds, Ethan pulled away. His cheeks had deeply reddened and both of you were out of breath. For someone who didn’t have experience in the dating department, Ethan kissed scarily well.

“Holy shit, are you guys okay? Your fall woke me up, but I kind of had to figure out where I was first before I came to check.” Anika’s sweet voice caught your attention.

Ethan rolled off of you, both of you startled by the sudden presence of another, his rather large body slamming into the cabinetry. It sounded and looked like it hurt, you’d make sure to check on him later.

“Oh.” She had a devious smirk on her lips, “Did I walk in on something? Y/N did you finally give up on your ‘I hate his guts’ bit? The tension between you to is so-”

You waved your hands to stop her, “Ani! Stop, please.”

She giggled, “And now i’ve got my answer.” Anika playfully waved, skipping back out of the room.

You covered your face with your hands out of embarrassment, trying to ignore the events that had happened. Ethan falling on you, being covered in beer, kissing Ethan, and Anika walking in on the two of you in a rather compromising position.

“Y/N.” Ethan tugged at your wrists, attempting to uncover your face. “I understand if that was a heat of the moment thing, it doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”

His voice sounded small, like earlier.

Your eyes went wide and you dropped your hands, rolling over to your side to face the boy. “No, no, no.” This time it was you who ran a thumb over Ethan’s cheek. “I was stupid to hate you, E! Please don’t think I didn’t want to kiss you, I don’t kiss someone if I don’t want to.”

“But all those guys at the parties-”

“I wanted to.” You laughed at his question, “But you’re different. You’re special, Ethan Landry, and I was too consumed by my own academic agenda to notice.”

He was quiet, but not in a sad way. The boy looked at you with more adoration in his eyes as you’d ever seen someone look at another with.

Then his lips found yours again.

[megumiivs]

office hours ♡

T.A.!choso x student!reader

mdni 18+ content

ೃ⁀➷ content: p in v, creampie, praise kink, dumbification if u squint, no plot ¡! ❞

how did you get here, bent over the desk, face pressed into the wooden desk and legs spread open like a whore for him? for choso, your T.A. you had come for office hours for fucks sake. but god, the way he was pounding your cunt was too good to make you care about your grade. the homework in your bag all but forgotten. papers that were previously organized neatly on the desk were messily strewn all over the floor, a result of choso’s harsh thrusts.

“fuuuckkk” he groaned, slowing down and pulling out to look down at the ring of white around his dick. “so fucking good, baby. you’re such a good fucking girl.” he slowly slides back in admiring the way your pussy sucked him back in. god, his head was spinning from the feel of your tight, hot pussy. “taking me so well, baby.”

the praise makes you whine as you tighten up around nothing. he slides his hands over your chest, touching and massaging your boobs as he begins to pick up the pace, angling his hips so he could go deeper. you moan at the feeling, bucking your hips back eagerly to meet his thrusts.

“more, cho, please” you cry out. “don’t stop, dont stop.” god, he was so deep. you can feel him hit your cervix with each thrust. the only thing on your mind right now was his thick hard cock that was filling you up so well.

“ ‘m not stopping baby” he responds, reaching one hand down to rub your clit in small circles. “tight ass pussy. ‘s like you were made for me.”

he lifting your left leg up to rest on his shoulder. he pushes back in, bottoming out with one harsh thrust. god you were so full of him you could feel him in your stomach.

you whine again, the tell tale feeling rapidly approaching. you couldn’t do anything but moan is name over and over and over. what were you even here for again? you didn’t know anything anymore. all you knew was choso. his name was a mantra spilling from your lips.

choso leans forward, mouth close to your ear and whispered, “be a good girl and cum for me sweetheart.”

your vision goes white as the cord snaps and you cum. choso groans when he feels your walls tighten. he fucks you through your orgasm, hips starting to stutter as he begins to reach his own high. he thrusts a few more times before he asks, “where?”

no response. you were truly fucked dumb. “where?” he grunts again, trying not to cum too early.

“inside, choso, inside” you respond with an embarrassing whimper. “please, need you” choso groans at the thought of filling you up to the brim and after two more thrusts, he does just that, his cum spills into you in thick hot ropes, painting your walls white.

“take it all baby.” he pants out, working through his own orgasm. “don’t waste a single drop.”

you dumbly nod, too fucked out to truly process what he was saying. he slowly begins to pull out with a groan and you can feel some of his cum begin to drip out of your pussy before he reaches down and pushes it back in with his fingers.

“fuck that’s hot.” he says. you can’t do anything but lay there on the desk, breathing heavily, body sore and brain fried. choso presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“so what did you need help on?”

lilith’s note: lil test work i wrote instead of studying for my midterm whoops!

[incomprehensiblegiberish]

(Note: This has an edit at the bottom providing context and clarification, please read that as well) Because its an election year and I keep thinking about this, I would like to remind everyone,

THE PRESIDENT DOES NOT MAKE LAWS THAT WILL EFFECT YOUR LIFE SEVERELY

The president does not even MAKE LAWS. The president can VETO a law, but the real people voting for specific laws are voted in STATE ELECTIONS.

If you want change in your life by the government, you have to vote in LOCAL, AND STATE ELECTIONS

I repeat

LOCAL AND STATE ELECTIONS ARE TO PICK WHO MAKES LAWS FOR YOUR STATE AND WHO REPRESENTS IT.

I am sick and tired of seeing people complain about the amount of old people in the government. You have to VOTE. If younger people vote, younger people are more likely to get elected, and then the voting pool is larger. Old people are going to vote for other old people, and they are the only ones voting in state elections therefore, old white men are the only ones represented. You have to vote if you want an accurate representation in your government. The president doesn't do shit regarding laws (other than being able to veto laws). Thats military. Not laws. Get it together, this is an elementary level skill. Its literally taught in the 5th grade, how people don't understand that is beyond me.

VOTE IN STATE ELECTIONS FOR FUCKS SAKE THAT IS HOW YOU GET LAWS PASSED THAT YOU WANT.

The president is only important in regards to MILITARY. The president is commander in chief of MILITARY. Not laws. If you want the US to stop supporting a certain country, vote for someone that agrees or is at least the better option (Damn the two-party system). If you want a law passed to protect your rights, vote for senators and representatives that want to protect your rights. Please for the love of god, so much could be fixed by voting. The system is broken yes, but it is not the only one to blame, go vote for the love of god I swear. EDIT: I would like to clarify some things. This is meant as a GENERAL STATEMENT. The president CAN do things that affect you severely, but GENERALLY the president is not in charge of laws that severely affect people day to day as the laws that the president deals with are for the ENTIRE COUNTRY. And therefore, are usually less specific. This does not mean presidential voting is any less important, that is the opposite of what this post was saying. This post is because the presidential elections seem to be the only one people vote in. And its good that people vote in this, but the issue this is mainly from is the fact that state and local elections are overlooked constantly, and then people complain about how the government doesn't provide representation when no one is going to vote. I am not saying the president doesn't do things, the president is important, but we can't forget about the part actually responsible for making laws in states and in the federal government. I see so many posts about how laws are being made by people who no one (at least over the internet) seems to agree with, and people complaining about how horrible the government is and how many old people are in there. And I agree, there's too many old people past retirement age in the government making laws and other things, but in order to get them out of the government, people must vote for other, younger people. Its not just going to be fixed by screaming about things over the internet. This post is not going to fix anything, it was a rant because I am pissed about this.

This is likely going to be the only update I add to this, I will not be responding to anything stated about this post, or put into reblogs. I am not in the habit of discussing politics with people and I don't plan on getting a start any time soon. I hope you all have a good day and thank you for coming to my rant I felt the need to throw here