#I had more doodles planned for them today too...

[xxplastic-cubexx]

what kind of underwear do you think Erik and Charles wear (i'm not asking this to see them half naked) ((please believe me)) (((PLEASE)))

My Personal Belief is charles is a briefs guy while erik's a trunks guy. trunks/briefs kinda couple because i can

and idk just a lil bonus or somethin. as i do.

[sysig]

Everything day

[thecharacterchronicler]

Like An Evening Sky || Ominis Gaunt X Reader || Smut

Outline: You ask Ominis to be your date for the ball and he feels sorry that he can’t see how beautiful you are... So you help him get a much more detailed and intimate idea of what you look like.

Word Count: 2’624

Warnings: friends to lovers, explicit smut.

For the past few months, all you heard about was that the Yule Ball was coming up. Students were excitedly - and constantly - chatting about it, planning their outfits or gossiping about who will be accompanying who, it pretty much was the event of the year for those who were old enough to attend.

You had been thinking about it too, of course, but more cautiously than the others. You usually dodged the persistent questions of your friends, asking who you were hoping would ask you or why you had refused to go with Leander, which might have been your only chance of having a date.

Now a few days before the event, you still weren’t sure if you’d bother attending, even though you had promised Natsai that you’d at least dress up and go to enjoy the buffet with her.

The library was quiet, with the faint sounds of whispers and pages being turned around you, you thought that you would have felt at peace, sheltered from the buzzing energy of other students preparing for the dance, but you found yourself mulling over it way more than you wanted. The main cause of your growing frustration happened to be sitting right across from you, focused on reading an ancient book with the help of his wand.

Ominis probably was the only last year student who didn’t mention the Yule Ball coming up once. Or if he did, he never talked about it with you. Which made it even more annoying than his apparent lack of interest in it. Ominis was supposed to be your friend, your best friend even, and yet you had no idea if he was planning to go and who he had asked on a date. And to make the matter worse, he didn’t seem to care about who you were planning to go with either.

“Ominis ?” You whispered, finally gathering the courage to satisfy your curiosity, even if it meant potentially feeling very upset because of his answers.

“Yes ?” His wand stopped following the sentences in his book and his pale eyes lifted to look in your direction, showing you that you had his full attention.

“Are you going to the ball ?” You asked, nervously doodling with your quill at the top of the parchment you were writing on.

“I… No, I don’t think so. Are you ?” He replied, his voice hesitant, making you wonder if he was hiding soemething from you or if he really hadn’t given the ball a single thought until today.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, faking a detached tone. “But if you want to go, maybe we could go together ?”

You saw his eyes widen in surprise, a faint pink blush bringing color to his usually pale face.

“Uh, I guess we can… If you want.” He agreed and you let out a relieved sigh that you were sure he unmistakably noticed.

“Very well.” You said, loudly gathering your things and standing up from your seat. “Ill see you later.”

And with that, you rushed out of the library, hiding your silly smile behind your books and leaving him to study by himself, still a bit confused by your attitude.

●○●○●○●○●○●

You spent the evening before the ball in your dorm with Natsai, nervously getting ready, trying on the dress she had convinced you to buy during your last shopping trip to Hogsmead and getting your hair up in a sophisticated updo.

Natsai didn’t pester you about your date as much as you had expected her to. When you had told her and Garreth that you had asked Ominis, neither of them seemed surprised by your choice, only by the fact that neither of you had asked each other before. Was it so obvious to everyone that you had a crush on your best friend ? And did they think he liked you back ? Because frankly, even though he had agreed to accompany you tonight, you still weren’t sure if he was doing it for the sake of your friendship or because he was hoping for something more.

You walked to the temporary ballroom with your classmates, already hearing the music seeping through the closed doors and the laughters of students resonating against the walls. Up in the stairs, you spotted a group of first years, peeking from behind the railing with curious eyes. You smiled to yourself, remembering when you were their age, dreaming about attending this event too.

“I guess we’ll see you inside.” Natsai said, bringing your attention back to your trio. You followed her gaze to the opposite hallway, immediately noticing the handsome man standing there, in a immaculate white suit. You heart leaped in your chest. Ominis really was here and he was waiting for you.

Garreth and Natsai left you, arm in arm, as they entered the party. You took a deep breath and joined Ominis, as happy to see him as it was making you nervous.

“Good evening.” You greeted, once standing in front of him. “That suit looks very nice on you.”

He gave you a polite smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, a twinge of sadness passing on his face.

“And I’m sure you look beautiful too tonight… Not that you don’t look nice on other days, I’m sure you do… What I’m saying is that you must have put in some big efforts to look even better and err… Forget it.”

You laughed, finding it cute how flustered he got with his attempt to compliment you. It was pretty unusual to see him lack self confidence and not express himself in perfect, almost diplomatic sentences. You thanked him anyway and looped your arm with his, guiding him to the ballroom.

You stood in awe at the entrance for a moment, amazed by how beautiful it looked inside. The room had been decorated in a winter theme, the snow falling from the enchanted sky above and the flickering of all the candles around making it look like you had stepped into a fairytale. You turned to Ominis, wondering if he was impressed too but the lack of reaction on his face reminded you that he couldn’t see how breathtaking it all was.

Students were dancing, others were excitedly chatting in groups and a few others were hanging by the buffet of sweets and various options of beverages. You found some of your classmates, talked and laughed together and shared a few dances with Ominis, who seemed to enjoy himself. Mostly.

But after two hours at the ball, alternating between dancing and filling your mouth with candies you never tried before, your date’s behavior changed, becoming a bit more distant and less talktative.

“Are you feeling unwell ?” You asked him, worried by how distraught he suddenly seemed.

“No… Yes.” He admitted, reluctantly. “All those people around, the music, the chatter… It’s a bit much for me too keep up with.”

“Oh, of course.” You nodded, only now understanding that he must feel overwhelmed by it all, his senses so much more sensitive than yours to compensate for his lost vision. He probably knew he’d end up feeling this way if he attended the ball, which explained why he had been trying to avoid it but he had agreed to go with you because he was a good friend and you felt awfully guilty about it now. “Let’s go outside.”

With your arm looped with his again, you guided him out of the ballroom and into the quiet gardens of the castle. The stars were brightly shining in the night sky and although the air was a bit chilly, it felt nice to escape the warmth and humidity of the party for a while.

You walked to an alcove, where you both sat on a stone bench, sheltered by the cold winter breeze and far away enough from the doors to only hear faint music reaching your ears.

“That’s much better, thank you.” Ominis said, looking indeed relived but sadness remained in his expression. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to ruin your night. It’s alright if you’d rather go back inside and dance with someone else while I take a break here.”

“Don’t be silly, you’re not ruining anything and I’d much rather stay with you, I don’t care that much about dancing or partying anyway.”

“You don’t ?” He asked, confused again. “Why did you ask me to attend with you then ?”

“Because it sounded nice to spend some more time with you.” You replied, honestly. It had been a while you hadn’t been just the two of you together , maybe because he had been avoiding talks about the Yule Ball and therefor avoiding you and your friends as well.

“With me ?” He repeated, as if he couldn’t quite believe you. “Why would you want to have me as a date ? I’m not exactly a social butterfly and I can’t appreciate how lovely you must look tonight. I heard Leander and Garreth whispering about you earlier, they said you were the most beautiful girl in there but me ? I have no idea what you look like, not tonight, not at all.”

“I’m sorry Ominis, I didn’t know it mattered to you.”

“It doesn’t, not really. I think you’re amazing because of who you are, not what you look like… I just think it’s a shame you look so beautiful and I don’t get to enjoy it like the others do. Especially tonight, you probably have a nice hairdo and you must be wearing a gorgeous dress but it’s all the same to me.”

“Very well then.” You stood up and placed yourself in front of him, reaching for his hand and bringing it to your waist.

“What… What are you up to ?” He asked, barely daring to touch you, even with your permission.

“I want to show you what I look like, in a way that works for you.” You explained, gently moving his hand to the front of your dress so that he could feel the pearls sewn on the fabric underneath his fingers.

He seemed to understand what you were expecting of him and soon, his curiosity took over his cautionary nature. He followed the pearls from your hips up to your stomach, really feeling the different textures he touched.

“Your dress is soft.” He stated, moving upwards until he reached the opening of the low neckline. He tentatively stroked your bare skin there with two fingers, a satisfied smile appearing on his lips as he did. “But it isn’t as soft as your skin.”

“It’s… A dark blue dress.” You told him, wondering if he even knew what this color looked like. Maybe it didn’t matter, but you felt compelled to say something, anything, just to encourage him to keep going.

“Like an evening sky.”

You took a step closer, standing between his legs and his other hand joined his exploration of your body. He traced the outline of your silhouette, going from your hips all the way up your sides and softly grazing your cleveage. Your breath caught in your throat at the more intimate touches which caused him to stop them.

“No, keep going. Please.” You whispered, your voice guiding his eyes to yours. With his face lifted up to you, as you stood over him, you could easily reach for his blond hair and push back the stray piece falling on his forehead.

He listened, his hands resuming their wandering up your body, caressing your chest before heading downwards, back to your hips, and then to your thighs, noticing and taking in all the curves and lines of your body.

In the darkness of this starry winter night, with nothing but the light of the moon to illuminate his white form, you dared do the one thing he never found the courage to do himself and leaned over to plant a kiss on his lips.

The kiss was just as soft and gentle as his touch once his surprise faded and he pulled you even closer. You heard him whisper your name as you both came up for air, so you kissed him once more to show him that you were still there with him.

That second kiss seemed to ingnite a forgotten passion inside him, his lips pressing harder on yours as he pulled you once more, but with much more strength than before. You landed on his lap and you felt his arms around your waist securing you on top of him.

It was your turn to whisper his name, as his hand grew a lot more confident in the way it roamed over your body. After a few more feverish kisses, he pulled the fabric of your dress up your legs. You shivered at the feeling of the cold night air on your previously covered skin but the way his fingers now danced over your bare skin instantly warmed you up.

“Are we all alone ?” Ominis asked, between two breathless kisses.

You looked around, checking your surroundings as well as you could from your seat on his lap, under the alcove you had find refuge in.

“I think so… Why ?” The question had escaped your lips before you even realized it, causing an amused smile to appear on Ominis’s face.

“Because if I manage to get some satisfied sounds out of you, I want to be the only one to hear them.” He said, his good manners and cautious vocabulary long gone. His answer sent a wave of intense heat through your body, burning your cheeks.

He moved his hand under your dress, reaching for your underwear and interrupting his caress just shy of the hem. “May I ?”

“Please.” You begged, spreading your legs slightly further apart to grant him better access to your center.

He kissed you at the same time that his fingers moved inside your panties, exploring the most intimate part of your body with eagerness. He slipped between your folds, easily finding your clit and gently rubbing it between his fingers, making you exhale in shocked pleasure. You closed your arms around his shoulders, burying your face against him as he kept playing with you, your need for relief slowly but surely increasing with each of his movements.

You were pretty sure that it couldn’t get any better than that, with his palm adding pressure to your entrance while his fingers were expertly torturing your clit but he proved you wrong as soon as he pushed one of his elegant fingers inside of you.

You closed your eyes, surprised by the intensity you felt in the pit of your stomach as he reverently moved it back and forth inside you. You were getting used to the sensation, and your body was too judging by how it was becoming increasingly easier for his finger to glide in and out of your body.

Then, he added a finger to the one already there and your body shook with pleasure. You moaned quietly against him, which seemed to encourage him to thrust his fingers into you even deeper, with rapid movements you could barely keep track of.

“Ominis.” You whimpered, against his neck, feeling his grip on you tighten to hold you in place on top of him. A few more seconds and the dam inside you broke, flooding your whole body in numb pleasure. You put a hand on top of where his still was, to stop the motions that you couldn’t take anymore and he understood, putting your panties as they were and gently kissing your forehead as you still tried to catch your breath.

♡ - (( Tip Jar )) - ♡

[yuff7e]

Hii! I have two ideas I don’t mind if only one is written: Could you write head-canons or like anything about Inosuke with a s/o whose love language is physical touch? Or could you write head-canons about Inosuke with an artist gf who maybee has a whole book with drawings of him 🤭🤭? Whatever is easiest tysm!!

⋆˙ inosuke with an artist s/o who loves physical touch !! ⟡♡ headcanons / fluff

gender neutral

omg hi anon !! and yes ofc i can :)) im making this whole thing gender neutral but i can do a separate fic of inosuke with an artist gf and he find out she’s been drawing him since the very start and how he reacts if you’d like ?? anywho, enjoy !! <3

the cuties song -> www.spotify.com

- inosuke and you have a pretty stable relationship tbh

- considering the fact he’s a feral boar man

- since you two have been together, you haven’t noticed inosuke having any hobbies

- like at all besides screaming and challenging people (and sleeping…) (…aaannndddd eating)

- but hey! that’s fine! you have yours and inosuke has… his

- now anywho, you were waking up bright and early for another day of training

- when suddenly you didn’t feel the crushing weight of inosuke on you…

- (he always sleeps on you and waits until you wake up! but today he wasn’t… oh god.)

- “inosuke? inosuke!”

- he had been rummaging around in your things while you were asleep !!!

- you rush over to him and jump on top of him to hide what he might’ve saw

- he lets you take him down and looks at you

- he’s doing that weird gawking giddy thing he does whenever he’s happy

- you just stare back at him

- “what?”

- “WHAT IS THIS BOOK?!”

- he holds up a sketchbook, filled to the brim with drawings of him

- you FREAK OUT

- “inosuke!! this is private stuff!!”

- “so?”

- mans does NOT know privacy

- yalls relationship is a one way street for that matter and he sticks to it.

- so he is veerrryyy adamant about seeing the rest of what’s in that book

- finally, you give in and let him look at it

- he’s amazed by the cool illustrations and doodles you’ve made for him

- “these are me?!”

- “yeah…”

- *cue him flipping through them aggressively*

- “i want this one!”

- “inosuke you can’t just take them! well— i mean maybe you can but i don’t want you to!! i spent a long time drawing these—..”

- “i don’t care!”

- “okay. insouke— seriously..!!”

- once he starts ripping some of the pages you snatch the book

- he tries to fight you but realizes you’re being serious so he stops but is still agitated

- he wants them!!

- now, onto physical touch

- honestly i wouldn’t see him having a problem with it, it’d probably just stroke his ego more knowing he’s got a pretty partner like you by his side caressing his arm while he boasts about how he’s the “king of the mountains”

- a real “i’m on top of the world” moment fr

- but he did kind of freak out when you touched him for the first time

- you were walking through the butterfly mansion, on the way to see inosuke

- you two had planned a little first date type-thing

- (with the help from tanjiro and zenitsu..)

- but you were happy and couldn’t wait to go and see him!!

- once you got there he wasn’t dressed up, just in his casual attire

- no clothes..

- anyway, you walk up to him and touch his shoulder

- he turns around so fast screaming “WHO THE HELL JUST TOUCHED ME?!”

- realized it was you and just stared

- the skin to skin contact got him feeling some typa way

- and ever since then you’ve just been doing the same thing you always do

- “hey inosuke!” you giggle as you hug him and he just freezes

- if he’s in the middle of a screaming fit and you go over and wrap your arms around him he’ll stop IMMEDIATELY

- “er—!! hey!”

—

·˚ ༘ you’re outside training when you hear screaming coming from the inside of the butterfly mansion, and you weren’t too surprised that when you walked in your boyfriend was being quite the sore loser.

kanao had just beat him in one of the training games, and he wasn’t too happy about it. “she was cheating! she’s cheating! let’s do a rematch!! this time i’ll beat you!” we’re all the words you heard from him as he stomped his feet aggressively.

you sigh and look at kanao who’s just staring blankly at inosuke, “i guess we could have a rematch..” she squeaks, inosuke jumping right for her - and of course he loses, again.

he’s defeated, running back over to the side lines and throwing his whole body into the wall - banging his boar mask against it and throwing a few punches. you trot over to him, your arms extending until you fully fall into his side.

he stops what he’s doing and immediately goes to push you off, not realizing it’s you. until he notices your voice, “inosuke! stop screaming! you’ll have another rematch soon.”

he immediately grabs your arms to throw you off (which he could’ve easily done since you didn’t have your guard up) but he just complained while you were practically on top of him. saying things like - “hey! get your hands off of me! i have another match to win!” or “what’s the deal?! can’t you see i’m busy?!”

of course since he hasn’t pushed you off yet you know this is calming him down, and eventually it does. his anger subsides but only for a little bit, the match eventually redos and kanao gets a few good hits in until he wins.

instantly, he’s rushing over to you and tackling you to the ground!! “i did it! ya see that? i knew i could win!” he’s yowling and jumping around and you just smile at him fondly. “congrats inosuke! but i have to go back outside and finish my training—..”

before you could finish inosuke picks you up and twirls you around before setting you back down, patting your head. “alright! don’t be long. i want you to see me beat the rest of these people!” a blush creeps onto your cheeks as you giggle, a little out of breath.

“heh.. alright! i’ll be back.” you kiss his shoulder quickly before jogging away - causing him to freeze and someone catching him off guard and winning another match…

you didn’t hear the end of it later that night!! but it was all okay when you woke up for another day and inosuke was laying on you per usual, not rummaging through your things this time.

—

YAYA I FINISHED !! it’s not as serious as i honestly hoped for but im actually super proud of this i think this is really cute !! hope u enjoy <3

REQUESTS : OPEN

[ssavaart]

Sometimes You Have to Make 100 BAD Drawings To Get 1 GOOD One

(Earlier this year, a publisher asked me if I'd be interested in writing a book on art. As we discussed it... they asked me to "give it a try" and this is one of two tests I did. I don't consider myself a writer, really, so this is just "in my own voice". I wound up turning down the offer... but would love to know your thoughts on this. Thanks)

Drawing something good. Something you like. It’s… elusive. Especially when you’re just starting out.

But, here’s the thing. You have good art in you. I promise. You just have to get to it and it’s stuck under a bunch of bad art. Really bad art.

When I was younger, I would draw every day. Filling up sketchbooks with doodles and sketches and I hated ALL of them.

Page 01: Crap

Page 02: Crap

Page 03: Crap

Page 04: Worse than Crap

Page 05: What even is that?

Page 06: Ugh

And it was just downhill from there…

But… somewhere around like page 100… I made something that… “wasn’t crap”. I actually didn’t hate it.

And that gave me courage to keep going. That one drawing made it all worth it. I was cured. I was now an expert. All of my art would be great from now on.

Oh… if only.

The next drawing was worse than any other drawing before it.

How??? I just made ART! like 5 minutes before that. I got all the bad drawings out! How did my art just go from Van Gogh to Van NO???

Honestly? I… got lucky. That one good drawing? Total fluke. Dumb luck. Sheer Happenstance.

Doing 100 drawings didn’t suddenly make me an expert. It couldn’t.

Have you ever heard of the saying “If a million monkeys type on a million typewriters for a million years, they’ll eventually write Shakespeare”?

I was those monkeys and that drawing was my Shakespeare.

I just pooped out enough bad art that eventually sheer luck was going to mean I may make something really good.

And I’m TOTALLY okay with that. I was 11. I’m not a prodigy. I don’t have any special gifts. But what I did have was… a taste for how making good art felt.

Seeing that one good drawing made me want more. Like my first time tasting chocolate ice cream. I was hooked.

So, I made 100 more bad drawings. Maybe more. And, guess what? ANOTHER great drawing emerged!

Another Shakespeare from this 11 year old monkey!!!! Huzzah!

From then on… I knew that all I had to do was keep banging away at that typewriter (I’m still on the million monkey thing… bear with me) and I would get rewarded with another masterpiece.

Week after week. Month after month. I would fill up my sketchbooks with the most horrific, amateurish, incomprehensible art… and, sure enough, 1 of every 100 drawings would not suck.

I would show it to my mom and she would say “Oh! That’s wonderful!” and when she tried to turn the pages to see more, I would quickly SNATCH it out of her hands and run back into the shadows like Gollum hiding his “Precious” from prying eyes.

I dare not let her see the monstrosities that came before the work of genius.

And… this went on. For years. Predictably. Rhythmically.

Until, one day… my 75th drawing was really good.

How? It was 25 drawings early! That’s not how it was supposed to work. That wasn’t the plan.

But there it was. A really amazing drawing of a spaceship I came up with out of my head. It had lasers and a cockpit and wings and…It was glorious. And it was totally unexpected.

Maybe NOW I was an expert and I no longer needed to make bad art? Would today be the day I would only make masterpieces?

I quickly turned the page and began to draw what would soon be my second greatest work of art and… NOPE.

Still crap.

Hm. But… something was different. It was still crap. But… it wasn’t as “crappy” as the other crap.

I grabbed my previous sketchbooks and looked at the bad drawings from previous years and… guess what? My older bad drawings were WORSE than my newer bad drawings!

Apparently, the more I drew… the better my BAD drawings got too.   

Okay. So. I drew 75 more “not as crappy” bad drawings and… predictably… I made another great drawing!

I was… IMPROVING.

This went on for years. I went to high school. Then art school. I hated MOST of my art… but as I practiced… the number of BAD art I had to make to get to the GOOD art got lower and lower. Soon it was 50 bad pieces for 1 good one. Then 25. Then 10.

It took decades when I noticed… I liked my art more often than not.

It was a complete surprise. I was in my 40’s when this happened. I was SO conditioned to just accept I was going to hate my art that I hadn’t noticed that I had made 5 paintings that didn’t suck. IN A ROW!!!

Unheard of!

But, there it was. 5 good paintings. One right after the other.

The 6th one was complete trash. Tossed it in the garbage.

But, the 7th one? I liked. And the 8th. And the 9th.

I’m now 54 and I know I still have SO much bad art in me. I can feel it. Always ready to pop up and ruin my day.

But, I “pooped out” so much bad art over the years that I’m not really worried about those pop up bad art surprises. I know it’s just temporary.

I like my art now. And that’s because I got MOST of the bad art out of me and into those old sketchbooks.

I know it may seem daunting doing 100 bad drawings just to get to 1 good one. But… if you love that feeling of making that one GOOD piece of art… you need to be patient and get the bad ones out. They’re blocking the good ones. Keeping them deep inside you.

So, crack open that sketchbook. Poop out those bad pieces of art and never look back.

You’ll thank me in like 40 years or so. I promise.

(Oh. And sorry for all the poop references. I’m still that 11 year old when it comes to humor)

Poop.

[amimuu]

“Had I found you sooner—“

Dtiys submission…from June—oops

BLEHH GOAT ART BE UPON YE!!!

More doodles under the cut

Boy oh boy! Proceeds to sweat nervously

Imagine forgetting to post some art for months. Haha. Couldn’t be me. Nope. Not at all. Sweats even more

Sooo this is actually my participation for when Mikey held a dtiys back in June and I participated (told em I’d find a way to make it angsty. Did I succeed?). Was originally planning to post it after results were in but uhm. I. Forgot. But since I’m currently in the middle of an ✨artblock✨ you get it now. Yippee!

There’s also some more recent doodles sneaked in here for the sillies including this one

Aka, how Chime and Callum’s (The Lamb and the Goat) “first” meeting went like. Technically, it’s the first time they’ve seen each other. Technically. Let’s not forget these guys are from different dimensions. And like isn’t that Callum guy dead or something?

Cuz if you were to ask them, they’d tell you they go a looooong way back. Perhaps too long.

Welp. Anyway, that’s all from me today. As always inbox is open for anyone to come by and say hi, I always love a nice chit-chat. Until next time!

Extra: non-colored ver + sketch

[cottonlemonade]

First off CONGRATULATIONSSS omg youre stories are so good and you deserve it(btw you're request system is sooo creative I love it.)

And Can I order a cup of milk with a matcha roll off of menu A or B please? And can I sit next to bokuto!

Tutoring Him

word count: 589 || avg. reading time: 2 mins.

pairing: Bokuto x implied chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

request: fluffy, tutoring crush Bokuto

Bokuto slumped over onto the open book and groaned. He was tired of studying before it even started. Why did he have to hit the books when he could be practicing his spikes right now?

“I see you’re trying out the osmosis technique of studying?”

He shot up, a loose page from his notebook stuck to his forehead.

“Y/n-chan!”, he said in surprise.

“Akaashi-kun asked me to step in for him today. He had an errand to run.”

Bokuto made a mental note to buy his friend an armload of new manga. His chest felt all bubbly when you sat down across from him in the empty classroom.

“So.”, you began and with a cool flick of your wrist opened your textbook to a diagram of cell anatomy, “Let’s start with the basics of the cell structure. What do you know about the nucleus?”

“It’s… in the middle?”

You looked at the picture. “I mean… you’re not wrong.”, you said fairly, then moved your finger a little pointing to something else, “What about cytoplasm?”

“It’s the stuff that keeps everything in place?”

“Hm… again, not… entirely wrong, I guess, but I’m sensing a pattern.”, you laughed and the sound made Bokuto’s heart flutter.

“Alright, one more try. What about the mitochondria?”

Oh, this one he knew!

“It’s the powerhouse of the cell!”, he exclaimed excitedly but his face got a little more color when he saw your frown, “That one has to be right, though. Kuroo taught me!”

“So uhm, I don’t know who this Kuroo is but I think you should spend some time apart. At least until after the exams.” You patted his shoulder.

Next, you had him open his notes for an exercise and were impressed and terrified how he managed to even read them between all the doodles. Most revolved around volleyball, of course, others were just random swirls or shapes. When he got to the pages about genetics however, he confidently turned his folder towards you so you could check if his notes were correct before starting to work, but a moment later he practically threw himself over the pages to cover them.

Although, too late. You had already seen the elaborately decorated heart next to the table of Mendel’s law with yours and his name. It was even colored.

“Uhm, Bokuto-san?”

“No?”, he mumbled feebly as his hair seemed to deflate.

“Do you… are you- I mean… do you like me?”

“I wouldn’t call it like…”

“Oh?”

“More like… super crazy in love?”

“Oh!”

When he looked up and saw you blush, his confidence returned immediately.

“Do you like me, too? - Argh, I had this whole thing planned. I wanted to win the next tournament and confess to you with the medal and- but if you like me, too, please let me be your boyfriend, y/n-chan!”

You were so perplexed that the only thing you could say was, “Are you sure?”

He nodded vehemently, practically hovering out of his seat in anticipation of your reply.

“Yes, Bokuto-san, I’d love that.”

He jumped up and cheered, feeling as if he’d just won a championship. Next thing you knew he lifted you out of the chair and pulled you into a bone crushing hug, your feet dangling off the ground.

“Oh my gosh, Bokuto, put me down before you hurt yourself!”, you squeaked but he only squished you further, melting into the softness of your body. “Not yet.”, he mumbled into the crook of your neck, “I’ll be the best boyfriend, you’ll see!”

a/n: and he was, in fact, the best boyfriend turned husband. I love him so much! Thank you for the cute request and your kind words 🫶🏻 I hope you enjoyed it! 🌟

[thegoldencontracts]

Too Late!

You and Azul are texting each other one day when he accidentally sends you some more honest texts.

Note/Warnings: Azul/Reader, fluff with a smidgen of angst (specifically Azul insecurities, he gets comforted tho)

You loved Azul. A lot. You'd been dating him for quite a while now, after all. But you couldn't deny that it felt like he was a bit- formal with you, to say the least. Sometimes, it felt like he was playing the role of a perfect boyfriend in a Romance Novel's screen adaptation. How did he really feel? Was he happy to be somewhere, or was he just playing along so that the other students in his dorm could see how attractive and understanding he was while they seethed in envy at the fact that they were single and he wasn't?

Which was why when Azul slipped up one day when you were texting, you were very, very happy about it.

It was a boring evening, like always. You were texting Azul, complaining about your homework while lounging in your bed like always. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Zuzuuu <3: You know, if you'd like, I'd be happy to assist with your homework. It'll even be on the house, just for you.

Me: cant believe im dating a capitalist mf /lh

Me: really tho, tysmmm for helping <3 I don't deserve u bbg...

And then, something completely out of the ordinary happened.

Zuzuuu <3: how could you say that you're literally so perfect? I love you so much I keep doodling you bc you're so. Pretty. I simp so hard for you plz never say that again <3

At first, you wondered if Floyd wrote the text as a joke. It was pretty in character for him, after all. But that didn't make sense. This wasn't Floyd's way of texting, nor did it even attempt to imitate Azul's. When Floyd was in the mood to prank someone, he put in the effort to make it good.

Whatever. You took a screenshot of the message so you could treasure it forever. And lucky you, because right after you did, the message was deleted.

Zuzuuu <3: Please don't say such things about yourself, even for comedic purposes.

He was not being slick with that. You sent a text in response, giggling all the while.

Zuzuuu <3: Regardless, would you like to come over later today?

Me: Real slick hehe... Plz show me ur doodles of me they probably look so good bc you're good at art just like everything else somehow

After a while, Azul replied.

Zuzuuu <3: I don't know what you're referring to. Regardless, would you like to come over?

As much as you wanted to press, you decided not to. Too much pressing would just make Azul clam up more. You'd just have to get him in person, where it'd be harder for him to run away when you showed him the screenshot.

Me: Sureee! Heading over right now

And so, you set out for Octavinelle, evidence in hand. You were going to make him admit he sent that text.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time you got to Azul's room, you had everything planned out. He wasn't usually so candid with you, and he was clearly ashamed of it when he was. You were going to figure out why.

You knocked on the door, and Azul opened it, letting you in.

"Come in," he said, tone even more formal than usual, by some miracle.

"Thanks," you said, taking a seat.

"So, about that text-"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Azul said, quick to cut you off.

"So quick to interrupt, Azul!" You said with a mock-pout, before grinning as you pulled up the screenshot on your phone. "But I think you do."

First, Azul's mouth hung open in shock. Then, his whole face turned red, lip quivering as a high-pitched whine left his mouth. Then, he moved to snatch the phone from your hands.

You narrowly dodged, and you couldn't resist sticking out your tongue at him.

"Too slow!" You laughed as he tried to grab the phone from you again, only to fail even more without the element of surprise on his side, because for all of Azul's many strengths, speed wasn't one of them.

"Delete that at once!" He shrieked, voice cracking in the middle.

He kept trying to grab it for a while, before finally giving up.

"Fine, fine," he grumbled, pouting like a kid. Cute. "You win. Are you satisfied now?"

"Very," you said, "because I get to see you. Your actual thoughts. Not just the ultra-filtered version."

Azul scoffed at that, seemingly in disbelief, though you saw the way he stifled a smile.

"Don't flatter me," he said. "My 'true thoughts' are not something you'd want to see in the slightest. Merely a more pathetic, messy version of what I already tell you."

"And that's precisely why I want to hear it," she said. "You sound so perfect all the time that I wonder whether you're really being honest with me, you know. It's just so refreshing to see you be gushy and candid about things. And pretty cute."

"How odd," he said, before turning to you with a face more genuine. "Thank you. For what little it's worth, I'll try to be a tad more honest with you. I can't promise anything, though."

You smiled.

"That's all I ask."

And really, truly, that was enough.

Bonus:

"So, how'd you learn so much internet lingo? Never took you for that kinda guy."

"I'm in the board games club with Idia Shroud. What did you expect?"

[quibbs126]

And this here is today’s attempts at drawing Transformers, specifically TF One

I had this idea when I started today, since I knew the faces and noses were giving me trouble yesterday, to try this paintbrush style. The logic in my brain was that the movie was made in 3D, so logistically a more lineless style should work better, right?

I do admit, I think that the lineless style works far better in terms of the eyes and noses being the right shape, but I also admit my lines are probably a bit too soft and I may need to darken them. As well as get something good for the actual thin lines, since the paint brush on its own feels too thick, even at the lowest size

And you know what, since we’re here, does anyone have any Procreate brushes they can suggest for this sort of style? Right now I’m just using Flat Brush, but I wonder if I should use something else

Anyways, so this canvas was supposed to be more D-16, but partway through I figured I should try someone else to draw as well, so I decided Orion, so we could have the yaoi

Honestly my big problem with Pax here is that I don’t have a good comprehensive reference for him, while I can get by just fine with D-16. These were about the best I could get, and that last one I only got because these other two weren’t cutting it

I need high quality references of these characters, or at least specifically their faces. And I’m gonna need even more if I plan to draw Megatron and Optimus as well

But yeah, Orion’s here, and I was also having trouble getting the correct colors for him, because I’m stupid and used to flat colors. D was pretty easy considering he’s just greys, and a yellow tinted grey works just fine there as a grey (though I do admit I’m struggling with his eye color), but I feel like blue tinted Orion looks too blue by comparison. But I don’t know how to give him his proper face coloring without it being the same shade as D-16

I feel like my words aren’t making sense. But just get that Orion colors are a struggle. And still are, because I still don’t think that other grey is the right color

Also Orion has a significantly more complicated helmet than D, so that’s fun

I really wasn’t planning on Orion taking up so much of the space, but I needed to actually practice how he looked so that I could draw him easier. I had numerous attempts at D-16 prior, I could sort of understand his look, but I was flailing in the dark on Orion and needed the practice

I think another problem is that I don’t make him wide enough. But sue me, my character designs usually don’t have their bodies that wide/their heads that small. I’m working on it

I capped off this canvas by just deciding to make a small doodle of Orion kissing D, since why not and also I was too lazy to think of anything else to add

Where do we go from here? I have no clue, but hopefully it’ll go good

[justcallmesakira]

BESTIE IF U DONT DO THIS REQ N I WILL FACKING EAT UR MUTUALS

DAZAI WITH A SISTER DAZAI WITH A SISTER DAZAI WITH A SISTER!!

she has black cat energy and err makes suicidal jokes here and then but never does t and chuuyas always the one who pulls her away from dazais tendencies because he DOES NOT want reader to follow dazais steps and err dazai and reader have a 2 year gap and err basically dazai took her away with him when he left and thats were she sort of stopped talking BECAUSE BOOM CHIKA BOOM ODAS DEATH LEFT HER MORE TRAUAMATIZED THAN THE KIDS ASAGIRI BLEW UP!!! so errr crack and chuuya and reader is ummmm AHEM AHEM AHEM (cough coug)

AND BASICALLY MORI HAS THIS like obsession of bringing reader back to the mafia like he constantly says stuff like "Dazai, my offer still stands but please remember that i would really really love to see your dear sister back first" LIKE YKNOW WHAT I AM SAYING???????????

DAZAI AND HIS YOUNGER SISTER!

Sypnosis: you are the younger sister of Da-dazai! Is he a great brother or not? UPPP TO YOU! >< oh and maybe hide your secret vists with chuuya please!!

Genre: crack and heavy angst! (dont question it)

Warnings: suicidal themes! cans of gasoline, glitter bombs, reader is very quiet type, manipulation (for good use!)

A/N: yummy yummy

uh oh! this is gonna be so damn messy

so um first of all! i really think reader would be very intelligent like dazai like oh fuck! i just got under a whole rubble of rocks by some guy who btw is the enemy of my brother quick! think of something

and then theres this bsd aesthetic plan you make and just survive! to the shock of your horror... :D

okay but in all seriousness! he defiently jokingly gave you his suicide guide to if u ever felt inspired by him

VERY VERY NORMAL BROTHER ACTIVITY!!1

dazai stop influencing people around you to plug off them self challenge impossible: GO!!

if you do however join his meticulous activites kunikidas actually going to blow up

😇

but imagine how cute it would be a black cat energy young sis and a golden retriver brother like bish forget romantic relationships like dazai who sometimes forget he left his sister at work!

but ynkow mf dazai always wants to keep close to you because he was never really there (like my fake as friends🙄) back in the mafia! woohoo

so now you can asks him for whatever you want but now he actually feels guilty because you have now become the silent type and dont really talk that much

Great job dazai! best brother everr!❤️

Imagine running away from the mafia with ur lil sister then realising she doesnt even want to talk anymore and that you might actually failed as a big brother even after buying her a whole lotta stuff

COULDNT BE OSAMU DAZAI GUYS!!!

tell him to take you to an amusement park and he will! but dont be surprised if you see him trying to run to jump off a bridge because he does not have for the sake of god any money!

AYY dazai cosplaying toji to get milk? real or fake??? find out here!

dont click on the link :3

ANYWAYS he definetly tries his best to get you back to talking sure the only thing he could do is talk to himself with you beside him doodling some stuff but yknow...it genuinely makes him form a sad smile when he gets reminded that maybe if he were a better brother and actually comforted you it would have ended better

"I saw a cat today yknow! it had a black eye and orange patterns. Somehow it looked wise" dazai said relazing on the chair, his hands behind his head, the whole night of yokohama was quiet only the flicker of the dim light placed underneath the balcony ceiling could be heard.

The night was calm too, it had a soft storm-like feel to it. Dazai knew you were listening thats probably why he would talk to you all these months, no one else was there for him anyway. So its better than nothing.

All of a sudden amdist the silence several pokes tapped on his shoulder which made his eyes widen slightly. You held up your sktechbook infront of his face, a bunch of doodles of him and a full sketch of his side profile

"(Name)... This is amazing! Wow you could be a talented artist yknow!!" he said you didnt know whether he was just flattering you or not because of the emptiness in his eyes. Depression changes a person. But the slight flicker of light in his made it visible to your loud mind. Dazai was glad you made some progress.

Okay now hb your interactions with da agency??

I am pretty sure both you and him joined da agency together (gotta make sure his sister ACTUALLY doesn`t follow his steps!😋😋😋😋)

kunikida may act all cold around you and view u as some kid especially when you randomly make the most random ass suicidal jokes in the middle of a meeting but...

Lets say he sort of checks up on both of you every morning! cant let the dogs out now kunikida! you never know what they do....

iykwimyk

now yosano girlypop is the only person who shows genuine concern for you when you get hurt why? because she was bamboozled when she found out you are dazais sibling like

"huh- are you actually capable of being a brother? more so having family"

dazai be at the corner weeping because of the amount of slander

DESERVEDDDD😍😍😍

I can totally see fukuzawa patting both of you and dazais head after you two collaborated on a mission

IDWGDHYWDFYUDFILOVEFATHERRELATIONSHIPS

he prob randomly call you for tea i mean not too randomly but he likes your black cat energy

speaking of which ranpo and you bully da heck out of criminals before they ultimately mistake you for some god!! /nj

kenji and kyouka just chills around you and tries debating what you and dazai have in common.

belonging in the mental asylum. thats whats common between you two/nj again😁😁

With chuuya

NAWWWWH BRO NAWW☠️

Chuuyas gonna end upl like this emoji☠️☠️☠️

Okay maybe i am over exaggerating this but yknow dazai is like really smart

UNFORTUNATELY!!!

So he will definitely know when ever you two act a little🤭😝😘🤗😍🥰👍

Hes going to get tjat expression from chapter 114 and chew chuuyas expensive tuxedo!!

I bet after he finds out hes straight up going to give chuuya a flashback of stormbringer era!! 😍😁

#verynormalbrother

"W-w-w-what da SKIBIDI [name]??? YOU WILL NOT AND NEVER MEET CHUUYA AGAIN" "wow... and i thought you were trying to become a better brother :(" "YOUNG LA- i-" ":("

He was about to say lad

like manipulative ass brother like sister ig! :33333333

He prob had suspicions back in the mafia especially because of how you mostly stuck around chuuya when he wasnt there

YOUR FAULT BRO!!!

And then u rizzed chuuya up with double black eyes (get it?)

"You know [name] it still hurt me, though i promised i would never say it infront of your face but.." Chuuya said seriousness in his tone looking at you eyes "But please stop looking at me with those cat like eyes they deeply remind of someone and I DO NOT like it"

He ended this funny note with a genuine fear and irritation in his eyes. you only nodded and continued to stare at him, your eyes rivaling a black hole not that hole by the way.

A tingling feeling gathered in himself as chuuya looks at your blank stare "Dont look at me like that!" he raised his flustered voice, a small hue of pink appearing on his cheek which only grew as you held on to his sleeve, snuggling against it like a cat.

But before he could be more flushed a really dark aura crept up behind you and then, right then you knew you fucked up bad.

"i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-cant believe this!" your brothers voice perked up behind you genuine horror on his face as if he just saw his bestfriend die infront of him twice.

"Oh my fucki-" chuuya sighed, both of you are caught. "[name] ICANTBELIEVETHISOMGIAMGOINGTOENDMYSELFLIKEMYOTHERVERSIONFROMANOTHERUNIVERSEWHOLOWEREDYOURSTANDERDSICANTBELIEVETHISHIT" dazai rapped at super speed, an anger and shock unwordable enough for you to be confused at whatever hes yapping about. "DAZAI what the fuck??" now chuuya was confused too.

"ANDYOU, HERMANADAPUTA (sisterfucker in english) YOUUGLYSHORTMFWITHNOFLAGSNONOTHING,YOUTRUSTISSUED?IWILLGIVEYOUPRISONFORLIFEISSUES" "WHAT IS YOU BROTHER YAPPING ABOUT?"

And all you could do was watch in horror as the scene unfolds infront of you. But safe to say you got in big trouble when you went back home!

anyways dazais going to go full on 8 cans of gasoline on the portmafia if more is obsessed with you like him

and then you realised..

"fOr tHe fIrSt TiMe iN fOrEVer" he actually did/nj

Okay okay but in all seriousness (litearlly @justcallmesakira catchphrase guys!!) Dazai would genuinely become more protective of you if mori was targeting towards you.

i would run away to antarctica too if mori even tried interacting with me

SHES A RUNNER SHES A TRACKSTAR!!!!!🏃💨

But if you are intelligent then i guess you met fyodor too? And maybe some sort of rivalry goes on between you two like "oh its my brothers enemy, gotta help my bro blow him up!"

I have nothing much to say because dazai would make secret plans (which you alrdy know) to make sure mori doesnt get too close with you

Like oh he was planning to approach you that day? BOOM dazai is already there. Yeah like that

If mori says that however... Dazai will reply with a dark eyed gloom,tilting his head back creepily "You will have to need more then the whole of port mafia to interact with my sister"

Dazai hates mori alot and though he knows that you are old enough to handle situations that doesnt mean he wont care for his only sister. You are the only thing left that he can protect without feeling inhumanity or faraway.

A/N: HATE THISSSS NOOOUUU

Tags: @inojuuy @biscuits-spooky-corner @terururuko @little-miss-chaoss @saelique @silverbladexyz @typcallysid14 @nezuko-kamado-cute-demon

[leadpoisioning]

Xavi Doesn’t Know

Tyler Galpin x Fem!Reader

SMUT (18+) ((oral, car sex, phone sex?, jealous!xavier, possessive!tyler))

Word Count: 1,204

Xavier doesn’t know that you and Tyler do it in his car every Sunday, that when you’re shopping Tyler’s really not stopping and it’s a three way call and Xavi doesn’t even know.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Xavier calls out to you, jogging to meet you where you stand in the courtyard. You take a deep breath before turning to the taller boy. Everyone knew Xavier was infatuated with you, ever since you spoke to him during orientation on the first day of freshman year. Unfortunately, he never mustered up the courage to actually do anything about the feelings he had, other than harbor them. You waited, you really did, but eventually his game got tiring and you found someone else.

“Yeah what’s up?” You nod.

“Do you want to hang out in my shed on Sunday? I was thinking we could have a chill day, like we used to.” You cringe at the mention of Sunday. You already had plans.

“Sorry Xavi, I’m already going to a church thing with Wednesday.”

“Oh, okay! No problem, some other time then.” You smile politely and nod, watching as he trudges away. It killed you to lie to him, but he’d hate you if he knew what you were really doing.

“Oh shit baby-“ Tyler gasps bucking up into your mouth. Your hand rests on the center console of his car while you bob your head up and down, messily drooling all over his cock. He screws his eyes shut, focusing on the heavenly feeling of your tongue. His knuckles turn white, gripping the steering wheel as if it might float away. “I’m so close baby, I can’t hold it much longer.” He breathily warns. His noises spur you on, going faster as he gasps harder. Tyler can’t find the words to say anything as his hips stutter, cum shooting up into your mouth. You swallow what you can, and clean his cock with long swipes as his chest heaves. His hand grabs your neck, bringing you to his face for a sloppy kiss. You slide over onto his lap from your seat and kiss him harder.

Meanwhile, Xavier is sat in his wooden chair at his desk. He rolls his eyes and tears out the doodle, throwing the crumpled page to the floor amongst the countless others. He runs a hand through his hair. He hated liking you this much. Too bad Xavi doesn’t know that you do it in Tyler’s car every Sunday.

A few days later he tries again. You and Enid sat next to each other, talking about some assignments.

“Hey, I was thinking we could reschedule that hang out sesh for today if you weren’t busy.” He sheepishly grins. You frown.

“I’m sorry, Enid and I were gonna go shopping in town today.” You and Enid were going into town, except Ajax was coming along as well and you’d be dropped off at Tyler’s house. His mouth draws into a thin line as he nods curtly.

“That’s fine, you two have fun.” He huffs walking off, discouraged but not completely set off.

“Harder, Tyler please-“ You whine, your legs drawing him in by his waist. He obeys, leaning down to kiss you as he does so, swallowing your increasingly loud moans. Your hand curls into his hair, gripping it tightly as he groans into your mouth. His cock feels so nice rutting into your pussy.

“Bet our little friend Xavi can’t fuck you this good.” He snidely remarks, having pulled away from your mouth just to comment in your ear. You shake your head quickly.

“No- only you, only you can fuck me this good-“ You babble, feeling the heat in your stomach grow. Tyler smirks at your quick assurance and dips his hand down to your clit, rewarding you.

“Good girl, that’s right.” He hisses with pleasure as your pussy squeezes his cock. He swirls a finger around your clit faster until your hips are bucking up into his, cumming as he finishes in your pussy. He gives you a few more rolls of his hips, making sure his cum is deep in you, before pulling out.

Xavier carefully moves his hand, making the painting before him come to life. You sat on a blanket in the grass, smiling through the paper. He sighs, slamming the sketchbook shut. He was never going to have that, not if he didn’t man the fuck up and tell you what exactly he wanted. He wasn’t ever completely honest with his intentions, he figured that’s what kept pushing you away. He was going to call you, and instead of tip-toeing around it he was going to ask you out.

“On your hands and knees, baby.” Tyler kisses you before letting you bend over. He gently grabs your ass and presses it back against himself. Your pussy clenching around nothing as he lightly slaps it with his hard cock. Right as he’s about to slide home, your ringtone goes off. Tyler picks up the phone and sees Xavier’s face light up on the screen. Smirking, he clicks answer and tosses the device near your head.

“Hello?” You answer, kind of annoyed about the interruption. Tyler makes it a little more bearable by easing into you.

“(Y/N)! Hey, I really needed to talk to you about something serious. Are you able to talk right now?” You roll your eyes, biting your lip as Tyler slides in and out of your cunt slowly.

“Yeah I’m good, what’s up?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking a lot lately. About me and you, us, I mean…” Tyler speeds up his thrusts. “I know why you’ve been avoiding me, and I totally get it! You’ve been wanting me to just be straight up with you.” He states, you’re trying not to moan or laugh into the phone. Tyler wraps a hand around your waist and toys with your clit.

“Xavier, I-“ You quietly muster.

“Wait, I’m not done.” He interrupts.

“Me neither.” Tyler murmurs, you squeeze his cock, making him chuckle softly.

“(Y/N), will you go out with me?” You gasp as Tyler hits a spot deep inside of you, no doubt getting off on this conversation. A three way call and Xavi doesn’t even know. Xavier waits, hearing the gasp and getting excited for your acceptance.

“I’m sorry Xavier, it’s just- ah- you really should’ve told me sooner.” You try your best to sound sorry for him while pleasures fill your senses. The line stays quiet. Tyler reaches for the phone and holds it between his ear and shoulder while he grips your hips for more leverage.

“I’m sorry Thorpe, you snooze; you lose.” He pouts, letting Xavier hear the sinful slaps of his skin against yours before hanging up. When the phone is out of sight, he continues thrusting- harder and deeper than before. You finally let out the pent up moans and push back against his cock. He leans over you to whisper in your ear. “So good for me, denying him while my cock is deep inside your pretty little cunt.” Your breathy moan is all he needs to hear before stilling his hips and filling you up once again while your cum mixes with his, dripping onto his sheets below.

Xavier throws his phone across the dorm room, the device clattering to the ground. He couldn’t believe he was so trusting. Xavi just didn’t know.

[wholoveseggs]

Hey,could you do a fic with elijah where she is riding him, but her legs kinda give out, and he needs to take over with daddy and praise kink and maybe a little overstimulation,please 🙏🏻🥺🥺

Pop Quiz - Part Two

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Its been a few weeks since you last saw your professor, and you are feeling insecure about the nature of your relationship. You decide to make a grand gesture to capture his attention. Hopefully it doesn't blow up in your face...

♡♡ Thanks for the request anon! I finally got around to putting out pop quiz 2, I hope you all enjoy ♡♡

9.5k words (whoops) - Warnings: smut, angst, blowjobs, riding, Klaus being an absolute menace, dom!elijah, daddy!kink, teacher!kink, tinsy bit of roleplay... I even threw in a bit of ancient Greek history...

{Part One}

You were late for class again, and you knew Professor Mikaelson would not be happy about it. You rushed down the hallway and snuck into the classroom, slipping into your seat next to the window.

You could feel his eyes on you, and when you glanced up at the front of the room, his gaze was burning into yours. You shifted in your seat, heat flooding your cheeks, and not just from the way he was looking at you.

The last time you had seen him, he had fucked you so hard you couldn't walk straight for hours afterward.

That was two weeks ago, and you couldn't stop thinking about it.

You couldn't stop thinking about him.

The way his lips felt on yours, the way his cock stretched you, the way his fingers dug into your skin, his low moans echoing in your ears.

"Miss Y/L/N." His deep voice snapped you back to reality.

"Hmm?"

"Perhaps you could answer the question I just posed?"

Shit. You hadn't been listening at all.

"Can you repeat the question, sir?"

"Why don't I just repeat the lesson plan from today instead? Since you clearly weren't paying attention." He raised an eyebrow, and you could feel the heat of the room rising.

"I'm sorry, sir," you murmured.

"See me after class, Miss Y/L/N," He said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You nodded, and tried to focus on the lecture, but it was impossible. Your mind kept drifting back to that night, to the way his hands felt on your body, the way his lips trailed across your skin.

The class seemed to drag on forever, but eventually the other students were packing up their belongings and heading out.

You sat there, staring down at your notes, which were mostly just doodles, waiting for the rest of the class to clear out.

You were trying not to look at him, but you could feel his eyes on you, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine.

When the room was finally empty, he stood and locked the door, closing the blinds on the window.

"Sit," he commanded, gesturing to the desk.

You walked over to it and hopped up, your legs dangling off the side.

He moved between them, his hands sliding up your thighs, his eyes locking with yours.

"What am I going to do with you, Miss Y/L/N?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Well, let's start with you answering my question. What significant event marked the end of the Viking Age in England?"

"The Norman Conquest in 1066."

"Good girl." He praised, his thumbs rubbing circles on the insides of your thighs, his voice making you clench around nothing.

"Tell me, how many times have you touched yourself since the last time I had you spread out on my desk, moaning and begging me for more?" He asked, his dark eyes fixed on yours.

"Too many to count." You breathed, your thighs tightening around his hips, trying to pull him closer.

"Show me," he growled, his hands moving to his belt, unbuckling it and letting it fall open.

You swallowed hard, heat pooling between your legs as you watched him pull his cock free from his pants, stroking himself. He pulled up his chair, sitting down in front of you.

"Sir?"

"Show me how you touch yourself when you're thinking about me, sweetheart."

You licked your lips, reaching up under your skirt and pushing your panties aside.

"Good girl," he said, his voice thick with lust.

You rubbed your clit, the pad of your finger pressing into it. You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, but the way he was looking at you made that nearly impossible.

He continued to stroke his cock, his eyes never leaving yours. You teased yourself, your fingers dipping into your pussy, your wetness coating them. You could see the muscles in his jaw clenching as he watched you, his hand moving faster.

"You look so beautiful, sweetheart," he said, his eyes fixed on yours.

You gasped, slipping two fingers inside yourself.

"That's it, let me hear those pretty sounds."

You moaned, your hips rocking, your pussy clenching around your fingers. You were getting close, and he could tell.

"Come here," he said, his hand dropping to his side.

You removed your fingers and moved forward, dropping to your knees in front of him.

"Yes, sir." You breathed.

He brought the tip of his cock to your lips and you eagerly licked and sucked at the head, your eyes locking with his. You loved seeing the flush on his cheeks, his lips slightly parted, his dark eyes hooded.

He slid a hand into your hair, gripping it tightly, pulling you forward. You sucked harder, taking as much of him as you could. He hissed, his fingers pulling your hair.

"You're so good to me, sweetheart," he murmured, his hips thrusting slowly.

You relaxed your jaw and his thrusts became deeper and harder, but not too rough. You moaned around him, your hands resting on his thighs, gripping the fabric of his slacks. He was completely dominating you, and you loved it.

You'd never seen this side of him before, and you were drunk on him. He was filthy, dirty talk falling from his lips, his hand in your hair pulling your face closer to his crotch with each thrust of his hips.

He wasn't the stammering mess he was the first time. He was in control, and you were completely his.

You loved the feel of him in your mouth, the way his hips would jerk whenever he hit the back of your throat, the low growl that came from him as he did.

He pulled his cock out of your mouth and you took the opportunity to catch your breath. You looked up at him, his face flushed, his lips swollen, his cock glistening with your saliva. He looked almost feral and it was a sight to behold.

"Fuck, you are so beautiful," he growled, one of his hands gripping your chin as he dragged his cock across your lips. You stuck your tongue out, licking the underside, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Good girl," he praised, sliding his cock back into your mouth. You moaned around him as you moved your tongue along the underside of his cock. He thrust into your mouth over and over, not letting up. He was close and you could feel his legs beginning to tremble.

You met his gaze, letting him see how much you enjoyed doing this, how much it turned you on. That was all it took for him to come undone. He slammed into you, his grip tightening in your hair. You moaned around him, your mouth flooding with his cum.

He slowed his thrusts, his hand loosening in your hair, gently caressing your face as you gave little swallows. His hips stopped moving, but you weren't finished with him yet.

You kept your lips around the head of his cock, lapping at the sensitive tip until you'd licked every last trace of his release away. You released him with a small pop, and looked up at him, hoping you hadn't overstepped.

He was looking at you with nothing short of pure awe, his hand gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"Where did you learn to do that?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Nowhere. Just doing what felt good." You blushed.

"Such a natural, such a good girl."

He stood, reaching out to help you up. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into him, kissing you. You melted into his kiss, your hands gripping his tie, as his slid down your back to cup your ass.

"I have another class," He sighed, pulling back. "You should get to class, too."

You smoothed your hair and sat back down on his desk, watching as he fastened his pants.

"I missed you," you admitted, a blush creeping across your cheeks. You probably shouldn't have said it, but it was the truth. "I feel like we haven't seen each other in so long."

He smiled, his dimples sending a pang of desire through you. He moved between your thighs, brushing his lips against yours.

"I had business to attend to in New Orleans," He explained, peppering soft kisses along your jaw. "I thought about you constantly."

You blushed, reaching out to tuck his tie back into his vest.

"Will you come by my dorm tonight? My roommates won't be home, and we can continue this."

He sighed, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"I have a department head meeting tonight, but I'll swing by after."

"Okay," you smiled, then you leaned in and whispered in his ear, "I can't wait."

He growled softly, his lips capturing yours, pulling you close.

"Fuck, I have to go," he rasped, his cheeks flushed as he reluctantly pulled away.

You hopped off the desk, and moved over to the door. You opened it, but just before you could exit, he stopped you, pressing his lips against yours once more. 

"Sir, someone could see us," you groaned, breaking the kiss, peeking down the hall.

"That is part of the fun, sweetheart." He smiled, giving you a wink before disappearing down the corridor.

You bit back a laugh, running a hand through your hair, trying to appear at least semi presentable before heading down the hallway towards your next class.

The rest of your day flew by in a blur, and by the time you were getting ready to meet your friends for dinner, the sun was starting to set.

You had all agreed to meet at a small pizza place, the one down the street from campus that always smelled like fresh baked bread.

You pulled on a jacket and started to walk over there, smiling and laughing as you spotted your friends standing in front of the building.

You jogged up to them, giving each of them a hug before you ducked into the restaurant.

The place was bustling and it took you a while to get your food, but you managed to find a table in the corner of the dining room.

The wine was flowing and everyone was chatting and laughing, sharing stories about their spring break and complaining about their classes.

"Do any of you have Mr. Mikaelson for Ancient History this semester?" Beth asked, pushing a curl away from her forehead.

"I do!" Caitlin chirped, waving her wine glass around animatedly. "He's kinda hot. I mean, I love you Soph’, don't get me wrong, but damn, that man."

"It's okay Cait, I'll allow it," Sophia snickered, wrapping her arm around her girlfriend's waist. "Maybe he's interested in joining us for a night? What do you think?"

"Hmm. Yeah, I'm in," Caitlin nodded in agreement, and they both looked at you.

"What?" You blinked, raising your brow.

"Don't you have his class? Isn't he single?" Beth asked.

"I do have his class," you laughed. "And I'm not sure, we don't exactly talk about that stuff."

You were suddenly feeling warm, the temperature in the room seemed to shoot up about 20 degrees. You pressed your thighs together, trying not to think about how you were on your knees for him that morning.

"Are you interested in him?" Caitlin teased.

"Uh... I'm not sure, he's..." you blushed, shaking your head, trying to rid yourself of the dirty thoughts swirling in your mind.

"Ooooh y/n has a crush," Beth chided, playfully hitting you with a napkin.

"Maybe," you squeaked, squirming uncomfortably in your seat, you took a long sip of wine, ignoring their giggles. "He is really hot," you admitted, hoping to shift the subject.

"Mhmmm," Caitlin nodded, sipping her wine.

Your phone buzzed on the table, and you snagged it, grinning to yourself. You excused yourself from the table, rushing off to the bathroom to answer the text.

Professor M: I'm sorry sweetheart, but I won't be able to make it tonight.

You stared at the text, trying not to let your disappointment get to you. You were a little annoyed he gave no explanation, but maybe something came up, he was busy enough with school.

You wiped the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks and walked back to the table, clutching your cell phone in your hand. You threw on the best fake smile you could manage and tried to focus on your friends. But unfortunately they were still on the subject of Elijah, and they would not shut up about him.

"Y/n, seriously, he's gorgeous, why not go for it?" Caitlin teased, a smile stretching her lips.

"Nope. Not interested," you lied, biting into a piece of crust. "He's my teacher, it would be inappropriate."

You didn't want to admit that you were actually spending time with him. Well, apart from fucking each other senseless, you had only hung out once, so it wasn't exactly a relationship, right?

"It's only a little unethical, how old is he... Like, 26? You're 21, it's not like the age gap is insurmountable. Plus, teachers are just so sexy," Caitlin drunkenly rambled.

"Shut up, Cait," Sophia laughed, playfully nudging her girlfriend. "Do you want me to dress up as one of those naughty school girls? You seem awfully obsessed with this teacher thing."

"That's so hot, please do," Caitlin giggled, nibbling on Sophia's earlobe.

Beth narrowed her eyes at you, her expression morphing into one of concern. She had always been able to read you like a book, and you tried to steer the conversation towards anything other than Elijah.

"Are you okay?" Beth asked quietly, ignoring Caitlin and Sophia, who were practically tongue-fucking each other over the dinner table.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just a little stressed," you mumbled, tucking your phone into your pocket. "I've been talking to this guy and I don't think he's as invested as I am."

"Aww, what an asshole," she said, pouting.

"He's probably just not that into you," Sophia added, grabbing one of the chunky slices of pizza and waggling it in your direction. "Don't waste your time on men like that,"

"Maybe he's shy?" Beth countered. "What's his name?"

"It's fine, I'm just worried he is losing interest…maybe I should ... I don't know... make a grand gesture?" You stalled, reaching for your wine glass, taking a quick sip.

"Like what?" Beth asked, narrowing her eyes at you.

"I'm not sure yet... Our relationship is very sex heavy," you blushed.

Beth chuckled, refilling your wine glass.

"Why don't you take control then, do something he hasn't done, I'm sure he'd be down for it," she winked.

"Yeah, surprise him! Maybe you two could roleplay or something. That's hot." Sophia added.

The rest of your dinner was spent discussing their own romantic escapades, and you couldn't help but feel a little envious that none of them had to juggle a very complicated, at best, situation with a professor.

But they had sparked an idea in your mind, one that you didn't dare share with any of them, one that involved Elijah and yourself.

Once you got back to your room, you began rifling through a pile of clothes, looking for the perfect outfit for your idea. After tossing about twenty options on your bed, you decided on a white button down shirt and an extremely short plaid skirt, with knee-high socks and Mary Janes.

You took some scissors to the shirt, cutting off the sleeves and neckline, turning it into a sexy crop top with only a single button doing the job of keeping you decent.

You curled your hair into huge ringlets and even added a pencil to the side of your head in a very Breakfast Club-esque fashion.

You studied your reflection in the mirror, hoping it would work, looking like the perfect naughty school girl.

You grabbed a large trench coat from your closet, tying its sash tightly around you. Just as you were about to leave you decided to take off your panties. If everything worked out you wouldn't be needing them.

The walk to his loft didn't take long, you were in front of his door faster than you could process it. You quickly adjusted your curls and knocked, trying your best to be patient. It was only then did you realize how stupid this was, he might not even be home, he canceled on you, what if he didn't want to see you? What if you crossed a line? But it was too late to back out, someone was now opening the door.

You felt your cheeks heat up, as Elijah's tired brown eyes found yours. He was wearing just a pair of navy blue sweatpants, his hair messy. You noticed immediately that his glasses were a little askew, perched on the bridge of his nose, he looked like he was sleeping and you felt guilty for bothering him.

"Hi," he choked out. He looked you up and down, clearly taken by surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I..." You bit your lip and gave him a meek smile. "I wanted to see you."

He looked over his shoulder and then stepped out onto the hallway, his hands went to your waist, moving you out of view of his doorway.

He seemed anxious and nervous, his eyes blown wide behind his glasses, and he quickly captured your lips, then pulled away just as quickly.

"I'm sorry, but you can't be here. You shouldn't have come," he said, letting out a sigh, pressing his forehead against yours.

"O..Okay." You huffed, feeling more stupid by the second. You took a deep breath, forcing the tears back. He was definitely seeing someone else, probably in his loft, someone better, less complicated. The thought of him touching another woman like he'd touched you made you sick.

"Elijah! Who are you hiding out here?" Said a man's voice from inside the loft, laughing.

You felt a swell of anxiety rising in your chest, and Elijah looked pained. He gave you a sympathetic look and then turned to face the man.

"Niklaus, this young lady is one of my students. She just had questions about an assignment," he said to the man, who appeared in the doorway.

He was beautiful, blonde curls and brilliant blue eyes, angular cheekbones and a sharp jawline. But he gave off an odd aura that you couldn't quite describe, there was something wild and untamed about him.

"Well come on in and have a drink with us, tell me all about how bad of a teacher my brother is," the man, Niklaus, teased, giving Elijah a playful shove.

"That's okay, I don't want to intrude. Thanks, though. I should probab-" you were in the middle of excusing yourself when you were cut off by Niklaus.

"Come now love, don't be shy. I never get to meet Elijah's students," Niklaus grinned, his eyes darting mischievously between you and Elijah. "And call me Klaus,"

You blushed and awkwardly shrugged, then turned and walked into the loft, Elijah behind you.

"Can I get you a drink, darling?" Klaus offered, pointing towards the well-stocked bar in the corner of the loft, his eyes focused on the pencil in your hair.

You nodded, panic rising in your chest. What the fuck were you doing? You were about to have a drink with his family and you were dressed like a slutty school girl under your coat. This was not going as planned.

"I'll take a scotch, thanks," you managed, glancing over at Elijah, who gave you a sweet, yet subtle wink.

You sat down awkwardly on the sofa, pulling on the edges of your coat, making sure it didn't expose your stockings.

Elijah sat down next to you, placing a warm hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze before moving it away. He was trying to be sweet and reassuring, he thought you were just nervous around his brother. Little did he know that the real source of your anxiety was what was underneath your coat.

You accepted the scotch from Klaus and took a large sip, the familiar burning sensation in your throat was calming. He sat down on a chair across from you, not so subtly checking you out.

You weren't sure what to do, Elijah was staring at you expectantly.

"So you're in my brother's class? How are his classes going?" Klaus asked, looking like he was trying to conceal a smile.

"Um. Yeah, it's going well," you answered, the heat in the room increasing.

"What's your major?" He questioned, leaning forward.

"Psychology," you replied, biting your lip.

He chuckled, shaking his head, a playful smirk on his lips.

"Cute. You want to study minds then?"

"Something like that, yes," you mumbled, staring at your scotch glass, tracing the rim with your index finger. Your other hand holding the front of your coat closed, afraid it might fall open.

"So you don't really need to learn much about ancient history for that, huh? Why even bother taking the class?" He prodded.

"It's a requirement to fulfill some general education credits and I'm in need of those, so," you offered, awkwardly tapping the toe of your shoe on the wooden floor, silently praying for a change in subject.

"Hmm... Well, Miss Psychology, tell me something about myself," he teased, eyes narrowed and alight with mischief.

"You want a diagnosis based on? What exactly?" You asked, glancing over at Elijah who was watching his brother curiously.

"What is your first impression of me," he grinned, looking at Elijah and wiggling his eyebrows.

"My first impression is that you're playing a game," you smiled coyly, relaxing a little, letting the alcohol calm you.

"What else?" He smirked, crossing his leg over the other.

"You enjoy teasing others, perhaps even humiliating them, you have a strong desire to stand out, even if it means tearing others down," you said confidently. You could've kept going, but you wanted to see what he would say.

He gave Elijah a wide smile, clapping his hands, seemingly impressed.

"That was spot on, love, you do know your shit," he laughed.

"Elijah, did you know your student was such a clever little thing," Niklaus taunted, his eyes raking up and down your exposed legs. "I bet your boyfriend goes crazy for that mouth."

You felt your cheeks turn crimson, blood rising to your face like flood waters rushing down a valley. Klaus was openly leering at you now, with no shame.

"I.. I'm not dating anyone," you muttered, beads of sweat forming on the back of your neck.

Elijah cleared his throat, a chuckle threatening to spill past his lips, he placed a possessive hand on your thigh, moving his thumb in soothing circles. Klaus' eyes flickered to where his hand had landed, his lips twitching into a satisfied smirk.

"How do you feel about older men? With accents?" He teased, cocking his head slightly.

"Niklaus, stop bothering her," Elijah scolded.

"Me? I'm not doing anything," he feigned innocence, holding up his hands in surrender, making a show of sprawling himself on the chair. "You know me, Elijah, when I see something beautiful I want it for myself,"

"Niklaus," Elijah repeated with a groan.

You were blushing and uncomfortable, but their sparring was cute, they clearly loved each other.

Klaus smiled at you and raised an eyebrow.

"Why aren't you seeing anyone?" he asked curiously.

You shrugged, sipping your scotch.

"I'm dating, but it's just casual. School's kind of a priority." You replied, avoiding Elijah's gaze, knowing damn well that you two were a contradiction to what you just said.

Klaus snorted, and your eyes landed on Elijah's, who was pouting slightly. You bit your lip to keep from smirking.

"Hm... Maybe you'll let me take you out sometime," Klaus suggested.

"Klaus... She's not interested," Elijah interrupted, his pout deepening.

You were beginning to sweat from the coat, you needed to change the subject, you were flustered and excited and terrified, all at once. Klaus noticed how red you had gotten.

"Why are you still wearing your coat? Aren't you warm? It's hot as hell in here," he observed, his blue eyes fixed on you, curious.

"Oh..." You blushed, taking a quick look over at Elijah, your anxiety multiplying tenfold. "I'm actually a little cold," you lied, your face burning hot.

Niklaus' eyes moved from the pencil in your hair downward, his gaze lingering on your legs for a moment, then his face broke out into a grin.

"How interesting," he sang, quickly switching his eyes back up to your face. "Would you like to borrow one of Elijah's sweaters?" He offered, clearly onto you.

You wanted to die on the spot. This was ridiculous, why were you here? What were you doing? 

"No it's okay, truly." You mumbled, trying to think of an excuse to get the hell out of there.

"No please, allow me to fetch one," he nodded, but he didn't make a move to go find one, he was waiting for you to remove your coat.

"It's okay. I should go actually, it's late, I don't want to impose-"

"Don't be silly," he scoffed. "Here, let's trade," he offered, a cheeky gleam in his eyes. He removed his hoodie, leaving him just in a tight white henley.

"It's fine. I'm going." You stood up, but as you did the sash of your coat unfastened, causing it to gape open, exposing your entire outfit to him.

Klaus burst out laughing, looking from you to Elijah and then back to you, making no attempt to hide his obvious enjoyment.

"Very, very interesting," he sniggered, raising an eyebrow at you, his lips curled up in a way that bordered on sinister.

Elijah wasn't helping, just sitting there, open mouthed, gawking at you like a teenager.

You wanted to dissolve into thin air, the confidence you had walked here with completely gone. A rush of shame washing over you. You held the coat shut, trying desperately to keep yourself modest.

"Well brother, it looks like you finally took my advice and seduced a student. How's she in bed? I bet she loves learning from the professor, eh?"

Elijah was now giving his brother a scathing glare. You were utterly mortified and no words were coming out of your mouth, you wanted to say something to justify it, but nothing was coming to mind.

"Now, don't look so upset. I see nothing wrong with this," he grinned, winking at you, and then turning his attention back to his brother. "I always suspected you had the ability to have some fun, deep down,"

"You should go," Elijah said to you, his tone stern, his expression oddly disappointed. You didn't realize until that moment that he was pissed.

"Have you gone mad?" Klaus chuckled. "She is utterly sinful, I would spend hours between those thighs if I were you,”

Your cheeks were so hot now that it was painful, Elijah's intense stare not helping matters. You turned and practically ran to the door, hating yourself for this stupid idea.

"Don't leave so soon love," Klaus called out to you, laughing when he heard Elijah mumble 'fuck off' to him.

When you exited the loft you wanted to cry, hot tears welling up in your eyes, you were so stupid. What were you thinking? A mixture of desperation and lust had overcome you. You had completely humiliated yourself in front of not only Elijah, but his brother too.

"Y/n, wait."

You turned to see Elijah standing just outside the doorway, looking a little guilty, though the corner of his lips were threatening to rise into a smile.

"I'm so sorry," he apologized, rubbing the back of his neck, looking disheveled and impossibly sexy with his ruffled hair.

"It's fine. I have to go." You said, heading towards the elevator as fast as you could.

You tried pushing the down button, but he came up behind you, pressing himself against you, his head dipped into the curve of your neck, kissing gently.

"You look incredible. I want you right here, bent over, that skirt hitched up around your waist," he whispered.

"Maybe next time, Professor." You said, harsher than you meant. You felt disgusted with yourself and him. You shoved him off and got on the elevator, without a single glance back, not allowing his intense gaze to halt your departure.

You cried all the way home, cursing yourself for being so shamelessly naïve. The entire time you walked back to your dorm the only thing you could think about was the way Klaus looked at you. It made you feel sick and tainted, made you feel like everything Elijah had ever done to you was a charade, it was all purely transactional. You probably came off as desperate and pathetic. There was no way a guy like him was truly interested in you. You were just a twisted fantasy to him, and tonight you played into it. You didn't know how you were going to face him on Monday.

The weekend came and went faster than you hoped, dragging yourself to class on Monday was grueling. Seeing Elijah after your humiliation on Friday evening would be the most mortifying thing in the world.

You barely slept and left for class early, hoping the walk would help clear your head, but even the fresh spring air couldn't ease the pain of how stupid you'd been. Elijah had probably laughed about it with his brother over the weekend. You were a joke to them both.

What hurt the most was that you truly cared for him, you adored him. He was your dream man. He was smart and passionate, handsome, charismatic and insanely sexual. He made you feel wanted in a way that no one had ever made you feel before. He made you feel beautiful and he challenged you intellectually.

When you were with him, everything felt perfect. Until the consequences of your feelings for him began to outweigh the logical side of your brain.

The sound of a car horn pulled you from your thoughts, you looked around for the source, and saw a fancy sports car pull up next to you.

"Get in, love,"

It was Klaus, casually leaning across the passenger's side, his sharp features arranged into a maliciously charming smile.

"I have to get to class," you said, staring straight ahead, picking up your pace.

"No you don't. Class doesn't start for another 40 minutes," he noted. "I couldn't possibly allow my brothers star pupil to walk across campus when I have this fine automobile at my disposal. My mother, rest her soul, would turn over in her grave."

You sighed, biting back a smirk, and decided you didn't have any energy to argue. You let him open the passenger's side door and got in.

"Stunning," he whispered, his lips twitching upwards, winking at you before closing the door and then rushing over to the driver's side. "Did I tell you, you looked ravishing in that outfit?" He smiled, clicking on his seatbelt and then backing out of the parking lot.

"Thank you," you mumbled, holding onto your backpack tightly, hoping that this car ride wouldn't take long.

"You didn't strike me as the kind of girl who goes to other people's apartments wearing... a getup like that," he said conversationally, driving faster than necessary with one hand on the wheel, the other running through his hair.

"I didn't expect anyone else to be there, truthfully," you admitted, staring out the window.

"My apologies for ruining your evening," he stated dryly.

"You didn't ruin it. I did that on my own, quite spectacularly," you noted, chuckling bitterly.

"How so? Worried you won't pass his class now?" He teased, pulling over just outside of the building.

You sighed, averting your eyes. "No, I'm not worried about passing. Thank you." You muttered.

Klaus stared at you, his blue eyes narrowing in contemplation.

"My brother doesn't get out much, he's a workaholic dedicated to his students, usually more concerned about their future rather than his own. That being said, he hasn't had many relationships." He paused, glancing over at you with an amused smirk. "He's so very traditional and clean cut. Old fashioned, even. Though, he might not be so wholesome underneath that prim and proper persona," he grinned.

"Klaus-"

"He is a passionate person, and I don't want to see him get hurt," he said quietly, the lighthearted expression suddenly replaced by a warning. "I care for him, probably more than I should,"

You swallowed the lump that was rapidly growing in your throat.

"Why are you telling me all of this?" You asked curiously, anxiety coiling in your belly.

"Are you fucking him for the grades? Or are you fucking him because you like him?" He challenged.

"I like him," you admitted, your face burning with shame.

"You like him, or you like fucking him? Because if the latter is the case then I will be more than happy to take my brother's place," he smirked.

"I like him," you repeated, emphasizing the ‘him’ and narrowing your eyes.

"Do you sleep with any of your other professors for good grades?"

"Oh fuck off," you said, and opened the car door, grabbing your things before climbing out.

"Come on, we're practically family now," he laughed. "After last Friday,"

"Goodbye, Klaus." You told him firmly.

"One last thing, love, before I go..."

"What?" You spat, turning back to him, the last thing you wanted was this dude running his mouth. He seemed to love the sound of his own voice.

"I really meant what I said before. Elijah is a good man, and he doesn't need his heart broken,"

"Neither do I," you muttered, slamming the door shut and walking away as fast as you could.

You hid in the back of the classroom, burying your face in your notebook, listening to the class file in. Mr. Mikaelson was ten minutes late, which was very unlike him.

"My apologies class, I had to take a cab today. My car was borrowed without my permission,”

You looked up to see him adjusting his tie, his dark hair slightly disheveled, his glasses askew. He looked a little annoyed and stressed.

"Today we will be discussing the role of women in Greek society, specifically the Spartans and Athenians. Miss Y/L/N, I don't have a TA today, can you come help me with the presentation?" He asked, his eyes flickering over to yours.

"Of course," you replied, getting up and making your way to the front.

"Everyone, please get settled. This is very important information and should be used for your essays," he warned.

He motioned for you to sit at his desk, pointing to his laptop, opening the projector for the screen.

"Just click here when I tell you," he instructed, his face so close to yours that you could smell his cologne. You could sense that he was a little on edge, and that made you nervous.

You could feel him watching you intently, so much so that your hands were shaking as you moved the mouse. He moved away to begin the lecture, but his eyes were always fixed on you, even when he wasn't speaking directly to you.

The lecture passed agonizingly slow, it felt like hours instead of a few brief moments. You could barely concentrate, the only thing on your mind was Klaus' words echoing in your head.

"An important difference between the Spartans and the Athenians is the role that women played in society, specifically their role in politics. Now, the Spartan woman was not allowed to take part in politics, they were only permitted to raise the children, while the men served in the military..."

You followed along on screen, reading the sides, occasionally sneaking a look over at him. He was so captivating, so confident and knowledgeable. You had fallen hard for him, there was no denying it.

You noticed something else on his screen. An email notification from the dean titled: Request to Transfer.

Your heart dropped into your stomach, bile rising in your throat.

"Now, in contrast, Athenian women had the freedom to learn, they were given the right to divorce, and they were allowed to serve as priestesses, which was a very esteemed position. Women were respected, not treated like property. It's a very interesting contrast, and one that is often overlooked."

You opened the email, reading it over quickly.

To Mr. Mikaelson, I've received your request to transfer to the University of Cambridge in England. This is an exciting opportunity, and I understand why you have chosen to accept. It is unfortunate, however, that we will be losing you. I will discuss this matter with the board, and be putting in my recommendation for a new instructor. I will also contact Cambridge as a reference for you. We are truly sorry to see you leave. Sincerely, Dean Williams.

You were frozen, unable to move. He was leaving.

"Thank you, miss Y/L/N, you can return to your seat,"

You blinked, looking up at him, his eyes were fixed on you, a look of concern and hesitation. But he didn't say anything, and continued his lecture.

It was a blur. The whole thing. You didn't remember packing up your things, or walking out of the room.

"Y/n, wait," his voice called out from behind you. But you just kept walking, the tears were threatening to fall, and the last thing you needed was him seeing you cry.

You skipped the rest of your classes, and walked to your dorm, ignoring the buzzing in your pocket, the phone vibrating incessantly. It was him. You knew it was him, but you couldn't speak to him.

Beth was hanging out in your room, laying on your bed, browsing her phone.

"Hey, babe, you're back early," she greeted you.

You nodded, sniffling, dropping your backpack on the ground and then going to lay down beside her.

"Are you okay?"

"No," you shook your head.

"Talk to me." She nudged you.

"I think I've fallen for a very unavailable man." You whispered, your voice breaking.

"How unavailable?"

"Like, leaving the country unavailable,"

"Oh," she said softly, reaching over and pulling you into her chest. "Is this the guy you were telling us about on Friday? The one you were going to do a grand gesture for?"

"Yeah, I went to his apartment, I was dressed in a way that would make a street hooker blush, and his brother was there. It was humiliating."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I'm embarrassed, Beth. I'm humiliated. I was just a joke to him, I mean, how can a guy like him, who is older, and successful, and has his shit together, really want a girl like me?" The tears were really starting to flow now.

"Stop. Do not do that to yourself," she chastised.

"And on top of that, I'm a fucking cliché! Fucking a professor, thinking I'm special. Thinking I was more than just some stupid kid with a crush." You said, suddenly realizing you let slip the identity of the man in question.

"Wait, you're talking about... One of our professors?!" Beth asked, her mouth hanging open.

"No," you lied, getting up out of the bed, wiping away the tears.

"Who is it?"

"Doesn't matter. He's leaving, probably going to get tenure at some big university overseas. He's never coming back," you whispered, hating the way your voice sounded so small.

"Oh. My. God, who is it!!! Tell me!!" Beth was practically begging now, but you just shook your head.

"If this information gets out it could ruin his career, please, just forget I said anything,"

She nodded, but her eyes were narrowed, "Is it Mr. Salvatore? I've heard he sleeps around with the girls here. Some even say he likes it rough," she winked, and you had to laugh.

"Definitely not, I think his wife has enough of his dick," you joked, rolling your eyes.

"Does he know about your... Feelings? Why doesn't he like you back?" She pressed, brushing your hair back.

You considered lying, but after your night of embarrassment and idiocy, you decided you had nothing else to lose.

"I think he does, but this is complicated. It's highly inappropriate and he's leaving. Which is probably for the best. Our time together can only ever be temporary," you said sadly, getting up and going to the bathroom to freshen up.

"If you love him, you should tell him, whether he's staying or not. Sometimes temporary is what's necessary to feel deeply, and that feeling should be worth the pain of his inevitable goodbye," she stated knowingly.

You walked over to her and kissed her on the cheek. She was always the friend that gave you the best advice, even if you didn't want to hear it.

"You are right, I'm going to go talk to him," you said determinedly.

"Can you pleaaasseee tell me who?" She begged as you got dressed, pulling on a skirt and some thigh high socks.

"Fine, but you can't tell a soul, and I'm borrowing your boots," you muttered, bending down to grab them.

"Okay, Jesus, it's like pulling teeth!" She exclaimed.

"It's Mr. Mikaelson," you admitted, putting the boots on and blushing, straightening out the tiny skirt and fumbling with the buttons on your cardigan. "Elijah,"

Beth let out a squeal. "Elijaahhh," she said dreamily, mocking the sound of your voice when you said his name.

"Shut up!" You replied, blushing like an idiot.

"He's sooooo hot," Beth crooned, lifting her arm and pretending to fan herself. "How did it happen?!? Is he..." she looked around the room dramatically, before leaning over and whispering, "Is he a good lay?"

You smacked her with a pillow, making her burst into a fit of laughter. "You are the fucking worst, I knew I shouldn't have told you,"

"Ok, ok, I'm sorry, but please tell me!"

You chuckled and bit your lip, reminiscing on all the things he'd done to you. "The first time it happened was in his office and I... made the first move," you admitted, smiling when you saw the look of shock on her face.

"Professor Mikaelson?"

You nodded.

"Mildmannered, broody, sexy as fuck, Mikaelson?"

"The one and only," you agreed, hugging her. "Please don't tell anyone,"

"Wouldn't dream of it," she whispered, before shoving you out the door, which resulted in you tumbling onto the hallway floor. "Don't come back until you guys have made up and made a mess of his office!! Love you babes,"

You flipped her off, laughing and adjusting your stockings and shoes, the last thing you needed was running into another professor with your ass literally out.

You sent him a quick text, hoping he was still at school. He didn't reply, which made your stomach lurch uncomfortably. This felt almost like a replay of your disastrous encounter Friday night. But this time it was going to be different, this time you were determined to talk to him and clear the air.

The school was quiet, classes were long over and everyone had left, so when you rounded the corner to Elijah's office you sighed with relief, seeing that his door was ajar, a light flickering under the frame. 

You stepped inside, closing the door behind you and leaning up against it, staring at him. He didn't say anything, so you spoke up.

"Did you mean it?" You asked softly, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Mean what?" He replied, leaning back in his chair.

"The email,"

He sat in silence, his eyes lingering on yours, and you quickly looked away. "I didn't want you to find out that way, I was going to tell you soon."

"That you're leaving?" You whispered, but somehow the words got lodged in your throat, your tongue refusing to cooperate.

He nodded, leaning back in his chair and pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes, sighing loudly, almost as though he was in pain.

"I didn't even know you applied," you said hoarsely.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't think I'd be accepted. But that job is a chance of a lifetime. I can't pass this up." His tone was even, but you could see the pain in his eyes. You felt nauseous. He was really leaving you, this was really happening.

"You must be excited," you said, cursing the way your voice shook. The lump in your throat threatening to burst.

"It's my dream job," he admitted quietly, not quite meeting your eyes.

"That's great," you felt like the world was collapsing around you, everything was crashing in on itself, suffocating you.

"Come here," he said softly.

You shook your head. "I'm fine right here."

He gave you a sad look, and you held back a sniffle, the emotion bubbling up in you, but you couldn't let it out. He wasn't yours to begin with.

"This was a mistake wasn't it?" You said sadly, remembering your conversation with Klaus, wanting to sob, bury your face in a pillow, and sleep for the rest of the year.

"Come here," he said again, this time more assertively, gesturing with his finger, beckoning you to come to him.

You bit your lip and walked over to him, your hands and knees weak, tears threatening to fall. You stood next to his desk and before you could sit down in the chair, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him, so that you were straddling him.

"I love you," he murmured, taking you by surprise, cradling the back of your neck, running his fingers through your hair.

"What?"

"You heard me," he insisted, kissing your forehead, pulling you closer so that you were flush against his chest, close enough to hear his heartbeat, the steady rhythm soothing you.

You sighed and shook your head, this wasn't real. You would wake up at any moment and find out this was all a horrible dream.

"I'm sorry for what happened on Friday. I... didn't handle it well," he admitted. "My brother humiliated you, and I let it happen. I am truly sorry."

"Doesn't matter," you murmured, curling into his shoulder, shutting your eyes, trying to hold onto him for as long as possible.

"It does matter, you were making an effort, putting yourself out there and the last thing I wanted was for you to get hurt. And when you left I could tell you were distraught," his voice was soothing, his hands gripping your thighs, tracing gentle circles on your skin.

"I was being a horny idiot, I kind of deserved it," you snarked.

He chuckled, his chest vibrating with amusement. "You were embarrassed. My brother likes to… push people."

"Remind me never to meet your parents then," you muttered, still refusing to open your eyes.

"The rest of my family is just as bad," he admitted, moving your legs so that they were wrapped around his waist, his large hands gripping your ass. "Are you going to open your eyes for me, my sweet girl?"

You opened them slowly, tentatively. His face was so close to yours, you could feel his warm breath, and see all the stubble on his jaw.

"Hi," you whispered shyly, biting your lip, meeting his molten brown stare, the pools of chocolate almost hypnotizing.

"I love you," he repeated, never breaking eye contact, pulling your hand up to his mouth, giving it a soft kiss.

"Y-You can't say things like that," you stammered, your heart melting at the sound of his declaration.

"Why not? It's true," he challenged you, a smirk playing at his lips, his dimples even more pronounced.

"Because you're leaving, and I... like you a lot," you said hesitantly, hating that you were being such a coward about it.

"So come with me," he murmured, his thumb tracing small circles on your thigh. "Let me take you with me."

"Cambridge is... It's your dream job, I couldn't possibly-"

"Please come with me," he said passionately, intertwining his fingers with yours. "There are lots of universities in England you can transfer to... just not Cambridge, please," he chuckled.

"I don't exactly have the money to move countries right now," you lamented, kissing his knuckles, studying the way your hands looked against his, hoping you could memorize every detail of his, in case it was the last time you'd be able to touch him.

"I'll take care of all that, love. Just please say yes," he pleaded, kissing your neck, and lifting up your cardigan, stroking the bare skin on your waist.

"O-Okay," you said timidly, gasping when you felt him lift up your tank top, his fingers skillfully removing it, tugging at your bra, making your nipples peak in excitement.

"I want an enthusiastic yes, or not at all," he ordered, kissing down your chest, hovering over your breasts, licking at the soft tissue, his warm mouth suckling the tip of your nipple, while his hand played with the other one, rolling and pinching.

You had no doubts that you would follow him to the ends of the Earth if he asked. "Yes, yes, Elijah, yes, I'll go with you," you gasped, as he nipped at your breast, his teeth pulling at the tender flesh, sending jolts of electricity through your body.

"Good girl," he praised, reaching down and unbuttoning your skirt, almost tearing it off in his rush to get you naked.

"I love these," he said softly, his fingers grazing along your thigh highs. "If Klaus didn't ruin our Friday, what exactly was your plan in that little outfit?" He wondered aloud, grinning, and you found yourself blushing despite the whole situation.

"I... wanted us to roleplay," you muttered, "B-But if you don't want to, it's fine! We don't have to. It was dumb,"

"Shh," he soothed, nuzzling your neck. "Tell me, what were you planning?"

You gulped, not expecting him to get on board so easily. "Well, I was going to pretend to be an innocent school girl and, um, you'd be my very strict professor," you admitted, completely ashamed. It sounded even worse out loud.

He let out a genuine laugh, his dimples more prominent and the twinkle in his eye entrancing. "So just a more extreme version of what we've already done in my classroom?"

You nodded and bit your lip.

"Very well, repeat after me, darling: Yes, Professor Mikaelson," he ordered, his voice dropping an octave lower, setting your soul on fire.

He looked so different right now. His demeanor changed from the sweet man who professed his love for you to someone powerful. Dominant. Hot.

"Yes, Professor Mikaelson," You almost squealed, letting out a yelp when he slapped your ass hard.

"Undress me," he instructed, sitting back against the chair, spreading his legs wider, making himself comfortable.

"Oh, okay, yeah, yessir," you mumbled, you were clumsy and uncoordinated, desperate to remove his clothes.

He was wearing suspenders today, and you playfully pulled on them, a smirk spreading across his face as you did so. You unbuttoned his shirt slowly, pulling it off, momentarily pausing when you saw how tense and wound up he was, how much he wanted you.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, running his hands through your hair, tugging slightly, and forcing you to meet his gaze. "Keep going, darling."

You nodded, and undid his pants, his erection springing up. You stroked him a few times, before sliding the pants off and straddling him once again, grinding against him, loving the way he hissed in response.

You positioned your legs, ready to sink down onto him, but he stopped you, his hand gripping your waist tightly.

"What's my name?" He growled, his jaw clenched.

"Elijah,"

"Not what I'm looking for," he tutted, spanking you again, the sting making you whimper.

"Daddy," you murmured, and he hummed in approval, gripping your waist and guiding you down onto his cock, his shaft stretching you open.

"Now ride my cock, sweetheart," he ordered, and you started moving, up and down, grinding into him, your hips bucking forward. Pressing yourself against him, feeling the delicious friction of his pelvis against your clit.

He let out a soft moan and buried his face in the crook of your neck, kissing and biting, leaving tiny bruises all over you, marking you as his.

"Good girl, use my cock, baby, come on," he groaned, his breath hot and ragged.

You whimpered and picked up the pace, riding him harder, faster, chasing the delicious pleasure. Your eyes locked with his, your eyebrows knitted together in concentration.

Your thighs burned and you could feel the sweat trickle down the back of your neck, and yet you never felt better, the feeling of him inside of you was heavenly.

You braced your hands on his shoulders, trying to find leverage, his fingers digging into your ass, and his tongue slipping into your mouth.

The kiss was hot, and messy, and desperate, a complete contradiction of the slow and sensual movements of his hips, the way his cock slid in and out of you, the lewd squelching sounds of your bodies colliding filling the air.

"Are you getting tired?" He teased, breaking the kiss, nipping at your bottom lip.

"No," you denied, panting heavily, but he noticed the slight tremble of your legs, and the beads of sweat rolling down your face.

He stopped moving his hips, letting you take control, smirking at you.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" He demanded, raising his eyebrow at you.

You blushed, and slowly started riding him, trying not to whine. Your thighs burned and you were exhausted, but you couldn't stop. He wouldn't let you.

You bounced up and down on his cock, and he smacked your ass, the stinging sensation making you hiss.

"Come on, my love, you're not doing a very good job, are you?" He chastised you, his voice low, and teasing, and taunting.

"S-Sorry, daddy," you mumbled, your legs started to shake, your muscles hitting the point of no return.

He didn't answer, and kept spanking you, watching you try to keep a rhythm. Your legs suddenly gave out and you fell onto his chest, burying your face in his shoulder.

He chuckled and moved his arms underneath your legs, lifting you up, and slamming into you. You cried out in surprise, and moaned, clinging onto his neck for support.

"Tired, are we?" He teased, his mouth next to your ear, his lips trailing down your neck, and biting hard, making you wince. "I've got you,"

He kept fucking into you, his hips snapping back and forth, pounding into you, the chair creaking beneath him. He began bouncing you up and down his shaft, your nails digging into his shoulders.

"Oh fuck," you moaned, burying your face in his neck, breathing him in.

"Language, Miss Y/L/N," he growled, and you let out a loud yelp when he smacked your ass.

"Sorry, Professor," you apologized, your climax creeping up on you.

Your eyes met his, and you saw a flash of desire, his jaw clenching, the vein in his forehead protruding.

"Elijah, Elijah," you whimpered, grinding into him, desperately chasing your orgasm,moaning and gasping when he kissed you again, his lips warm and soft against yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth, swallowing your whines and whimpers.

"Cum for me," he whispered, his voice low and gravelly, his hands cupping your ass, kneading the flesh.

You did just that, a few more thrusts and you came undone, screaming his name, clutching onto him. He groaned and buried his face in the crook of your neck, his body stiffening as he filled you with his cum.

You stayed seated on him, not wanting to be separated. Wanting to live in this moment forever, his glistening skin, warm and inviting, and yours pressed against his. Him inside of you, the warm connection between you two.

He grinned lazily at you and swept away the hair plastered against your forehead.

"Professor Mikaelson, that was..." You began in a teasing tone, but trailed off when you realized you didn't know what to say. It felt like it would be impossible to fully encapsulate the experience with words.

"I love you too," you said breathlessly, finally wrapping your head around his declaration.

"You don't have to say it back," he murmured, "I know it's all a bit sudden-"

You cut him off with a desperate kiss. "I love you," you repeated, the words becoming easier. "I love you, and I'll come to England with you, if you'll have me."

He smiled, resting his forehead against yours, cupping your face in his hands. "Sweet girl, I wouldn't have it any other way."

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

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[milunalupin]

Hi! It’s so cute what you’ve written about Regulus. Could I request a blurb about Regulus being so smitten with reader that he pretty much forgets how to breathe and therefore never answers whenever she talks to him? Either with them already dating or just being classmates ☺️

Hope you have a lovely day!

sorry for the wait lovely, i hope you enjoy !! :)

— take my breath away

regulus black x reader ★ 1.1k words

Divination is shit. A complete load of dragon shit. There's no hard research behind it, no factual information, just conclusions based off of feelings. Regulus doesn't understand visions and wanting to know what's to come. He's has his future planned out for him, so what were tea leaves and crystal balls going to do for him?

Continue the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black family legacy, be the perfect son and the top student in every class. Easy enough for Regulus, except for being 3rd in Divination because he "lacked natural aptitude". How ridiculous. Lucky for him his parents were far more focused on him doing well in Charms and Potions than reading tarot cards and interpreting dreams.

The one thing he doesn't mind seeing during this period was you, someone he could never dream of having the pleasure to call his. You weren't born into a pureblood family, and weren't even close to rivaling him academically. He doesn't ever recall seeing you at a quidditch match either, at least not when Slytherin was playing. With your effortless beauty and blinding smile, he's confident he would have noticed you among the others in the stands.

Regulus doesn't know when he started to crush on you, it just kind of happened. One day he started to notice small things about you, from your baby blue nail polish to your lavender perfume that did everything but calm his heartrate. He would pass by your table on the way to his own and see you reading what he assumed to be muggle poetry. The quiet Slytherin would look for those same muggle poetry books in the library late at night. He liked it when the sun sometimes shone right on your face, your eyes squinting and nose scrunching adorably. You would often mumble haikus and villanelles to yourself during class, plush lips moving quietly as you stared out the window, in your own world.

Just like today, you hovered over your parchment, your quill moving in a way that it was obvious that you were not taking notes on the lecture being given. The professor noticed your distracted state, calling your name out. "Please tell us all what ovomancy is."

"It's.. erm.." you giggled nervously, your face flushing with embarrassment. "Sorry Professor, I wasn't paying attention."

Regulus held back a lovesick sigh, smiling to himself as you continued to doodle on your parchment as soon as the professor sighed and turned their back. As lucky as he wished he was, he wasnt daft enough to believe he was your only admirer.

Edgar Bones was a charming guy. Regulus wonders what was so funny about him that he had you giggling behind your hand, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his quill a little too tight. Every table was assigned a different method, so while he and his partner were busy taking notes on capnomancy, you and Bones were having fun with palmistry. The bitter Slytherin supposed the smoke he felt coming out of his ears meant jealousy, watching Edgar asking to hold your hand to see if he can read it that way.

"Merde, ça n'a rien à voir avec.." he hissed, his anger turning to yearning as he craved to be the one holding your hand.

Ah, less-- less bright

Are the stars of night

Than the eyes of the radiant girl!

And never a flake

That the vapor can make

With the moon-tints of purple and pearl,

Can vie with the modest Eulalie's

most unregarded curl-

Can compare with the bright-eyed Eulalie's

most humble and careless curl.

Regulus Black feels pathetic, writing love notes like a little schoolboy. Especially if his parents found out he was quoting muggle poetry. But there he was in the corner of the library, copying down yet another poem to leave on your table at the beginning of your next shared class.

He arrived early to Divination, quickly setting his folded parchment on your table and then sitting at his own. It's been weeks since he began to anonymously leave you poetry, too shy to talk to you face to face. You always read the letter and put it into your school bag, so hopefully you were keeping them and not tossing them out later when no one was watching. Regulus' knee bounced under the table as the other students started to file in, his eyes darting between the door and the folded parchment he left for you. He decided to get started on his next letter, hunching over his parchment to get the words just right.

Regulus was too distracted by perfecting his penmanship to notice you walk into the classroom and watch as he gently placed today's poem on your table. You smiled to yourself and went to your seat, tracing your beautifully written name with your finger. You had felt flattered when you first started receiving the letters, assuming that it had been your flirty class partner Edgar, but quickly realized that he wasn't the type to do such a thing.

"Your cursive letters weren't this perfect when you first started leaving me poetry, have you been practicing for me Regulus Black?"

Regulus gasps a little too fast, choking in surprise at your discovery. He turns away to cough into his sleeve like the proper boy he is. You grinned at the young heir, picking up his newest letter he had been working on.

His eyes widened and frantically waved his hands, trying to take the letter back but you held it behind you out of his reach. "You don't have to read th—"

"Shut up Regulus."

He placed his hands back in his lap, his ears burning red as you read his letter in front of him, the corners of your mouth turning upwards. Regulus felt himself holding his breath, knowing he had to say something now or sit there looking like a fool. He took a quick breath and kept his eyes on the parchment as he rushed his words out. "Perhaps, we could go to the library one day and read poetry together?"

He shouldn't have looked up because he felt himself lose oxygen again when he saw your enchanting self was smiling cheekily down at him.

"Or we could go down by the lake and you could read me some of your favorites?"

Regulus agrees with a shy nod and makes a mental note to use the Bubble-Head charm in case he forgets to breathe. He'll forget all about the charm later when your head is laying sleepily on his shoulder as he recites old poetry from his journal.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

so I just read Doodles (and adored it!!) and now I can't stop thinking abt Miguel trying to sketch the reader, but having no artistic abilities and therefore failling miserably. a sequel perhaps??

((not sure if you're still taking requests tho. love ur work anyway!!)

hii!! AW that’s so kind, thank you! I absolutely loved writing this, thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

doodles (part 2)

Miguel O’hara x f reader

wc || 881

warnings || none just fluff

part 1 -> doodles

masterlist + rules

Miguel has many talents, but drawing is not one of them. He has an indispensable need for perfectionism, so anything he was automatically good at frustrated him massively. 

Since you've shared your knack for drawing with him, things have somewhat progressed between you both. Your relationship wasn't definite as of yet, but it was like the wedge between you two dissipated, like there was no longer a divide. You both spoke more freely with each other as if there was now a common understanding, like there were no secrets, well, still some secrets.

So now, when you'd hang out, you kept your doodle pad away, preferring to immerse yourself in conversation with Miguel rather than sketch your time away. He noticed how you were more present, more attentive while you were with him, and though he'd never admit it aloud, it made his heart feel full for you to want to spend time with him.

"You got your uh- notepad?" he asks, changing the subject of today's events at HQ.

"Always," you smile, head tilting to the side as if to understand him better. "Why'd you ask?"

"I want to try something," he sheepishly grins, his demeanour coltish as he avoids your gaze. "Can I borrow it?"

You playfully squint your eyes as you watch his expression soften. "I suppose,"

"And a pencil?" he adds, his tone sweet and juvenile as he extends a hand. 

You weren't completely certain about what he had planned, but you had an idea.

"Okay, turn around a bit... no, towards me... now, put your arm up... yeah, on the table... no, your elbow. Mierda," (shit) he chuckles, shaking his head. "Put that there," he grins, adjusting you, moving you around in your chair. "Now, relax," his smile widens as he gazes at you across the table. "Hermosa," (beautiful) muttering under his breath.

His grin slowly fades as the lead touches the paper, looking stumped as he peeks at you over the notepad. He softly sighs as he begins to sketch you, glancing up at you every few seconds, sometimes looking at you more than necessary. 

"How's it looking?" you sweetly ask, trying not to move too much.

"It's uh- it's," he pauses, masking the unsatisfied look on his face. "Good," he shrugs, his tone unconvincing as he continues to draw you.

He didn't have to say anything for you to know what he was thinking. His expressions were clear enough, even if he thought he hid them well. 

"Can't wait to see it," you reassure, your eyes soften as they meet his. 

He sighs heavily as he guides the pencil over the paper, flick-like strokes around the page as if he's sketching your hair. "It's terrible, cariño," (honey) he huffs, visibly frustrated as he drops the pad to the table. "Sorry,"

"No, no, don't be," you grin, standing from your seat, joining him on his side of the table. "Can I?" you ask, reaching for the pencil tightly gripped within his fist.

He nods, extending it towards you with a wry smile.

"Why you being so hard on yourself? It looks good," you partially lie. 

It wasn't an awful drawing. It just wasn't great. You hated the idea of lying to Miguel, but surely this one time would be okay, a small white lie to avoid hurting his feelings. For someone who doesn't often do anything artistic and creative, it was actually a pretty solid effort. And although he wasn't one to care for art, you could tell this meant a lot to him, like he was trying to impress you or show another side to himself, a softer side even. 

You could tell that he was frustrated in his attempts, so you reassured him, placing your warm palm over his forearm. "I think it looks great, Miguel," you smile. "Would it be okay if I help you?" you question, being careful with your wording to avoid the possibility of upsetting him.

"Go ahead," he nods, scooting his chair closer to you, resting the side of his head in his hand like he was getting comfortable to watch you. "I'm sure," he says, answering the question you had in mind, noticing the quizzical look in your eyes.

"Okay, so," you grin, looking at him. "I think it's the angle. It makes the proportions look funny, and it makes my nose look enormous," you playfully scold, earning you a soft laugh from Miguel. "But, you did the eyes well- wait a second, why are my lips so detailed?" you coyly smile, slowly turning to face him.

He doesn't answer. He shrugs, avoiding your gaze.

"Okay, okay, I'll drop it," you say, hiding your smile behind your hair, shielding the side of your face with it.

"Don't hide it," he mumbles, extending a hand, reaching for your hair and brushing it behind your ear. He smiles, noticing the blush form over your cheeks. "Show me how to improve it,"

So you did. You sat close together, inches apart as you made minor adjustments to the sketch, adding shading and highlights as Miguel admired the process, watching the drawing come to life. His eyes dart between you and the finished sketch of you on the page, a sweet, sincere smile spreading across his lips. "Hermosa," (beautiful) he whispers. "I'm gonna frame it."

@sunshiines-stuff @queerponcho @selfryed

[suddencolds]

insatiable appetite [1/?]

sooo... this is one of the thirstiest things i have written—and also one of the only times i've written a character with the kink, ever T.T warnings in advance for mess, character getting sneezed on, implied contagion, possible ooc-ness, & me writing this entirely with my d instead of my head

ivan and till are from al//ien sta//ge (a very fun watch which will only take 30 mins out of your life; i really recommend it!!). that said, this fic takes place in a modern au setting, so feel free to read it without any prior context :)

special thanks to @6pmsoup for sending me a very cute alnst doodle of these two which altered my brain chemistry permanently

—

Summary: Till shows up to a dinner outing with a brewing cold. Ivan suffers. (est. relationship, kink!Ivan, ~2k words)

—

For all Till tries to hide it, Ivan can tell immediately.

There’s this: Ivan has been paying attention to Till for most of his life. A full decade before they’d gotten together officially, and some more—this is how long Ivan has had to observe his tells. Always from the sidelines, always with a detached air of indifference that, in reality, was anything but.

All the signs are there the night before. Till, turning up the thermostat a couple degrees higher than he usually keeps it. Spending a little too long in the shower and using up almost all of the hot water. Clearing his throat one too many times in the morning before Ivan leaves for work, his smile distracted, the rasp of his voice nearly indistinguishable—but only nearly.

Now, Till is here for dinner—it’s a dinner they’ve had plans for a couple weeks now, at one of the nicer restaurants downtown, in celebration of Till’s recent promotion. Ivan had booked the reservation a couple weeks in advance.

When Till arrives, stepping out of a taxi cab, he’s wearing a scarf, even though the weather is too warm for it. Ivan steps up to meet him. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Till says. “Traffic here was the worst I’ve ever seen it, swear to god.”

“Was it cold outside today?” Ivan asks, a little pointedly, tilting his head towards his scarf.

Till looks at him, his expression unreadable. Then he nods. “Colder than usual, for this time of year.”

“Strange,” Ivan says, just to be difficult. “But the weather forecast says it’s the same temperature today as yesterday.” 

“It’s probably just windier today,” Till says, readjusting his scarf around his neck. His face is a little flushed.

“Your voice sounds a little off, though.”

Till clears his throat with a scowl. “You must be imagining it,” he says. “It always sounds like this.”

No admission, then. That’s fine. Ivan will get the truth out of him at some point. He lets Till guide him into the restaurant.

It’s a nice restaurant—worth the hassle of the reservation, Ivan thinks. Each table is set with flowers arranged tastefully in long glass vases, empty wine glasses turned on their heads. The server—who leads them to their table in a small, private booth—is wearing a suit.

It’s a shame, really. Ivan has a feeling that he won’t be able to pay attention to any of that tonight.

They sit. Ivan looks down at the menu, picks out something at random in a matter of seconds. Truthfully, he can hardly think of anything less worth his attention right now. He turns his attention to Till instead—Till, who’s seated directly across from him, the scarf still around his neck, obscuring the lower half of his face. 

Till sniffles, reaching down to turn the page, and oh. The sniffle is terribly liquid—has he been sniffling like that all afternoon? Perhaps it’s a good thing that they work at different offices—Till at a law firm, Ivan as a senior manager at a consulting company—because Ivan certainly doesn’t think he’d be able to get any work done with Till sniffling like that. 

It’s not two minutes later that Till is reaching up to wipe his nose against the back of one knuckle. All in all, it’s discreet. Just a quick brush of the fingers against his nose, which is still hidden under the scarf. Though, the look of sheer ticklishness that passes over his features for a brief moment there is...

“What are you thinking of ordering?” Ivan asks.

“I can’t decide,” Till answers. He turns the page again. “It’s between the ribeye steak and the… snf! The pork belly. Is this the kind of place that skimps on the portion sizes?”

“Not from their Yelp reviews,” Ivan says. “You know, if you really can’t decide, I can flip a coin.”

“I’ll pick,” Till says. “Why? Hungry already?”

He looks up, now. His eyes are a little watery. There’s a faint flush over the bridge of his nose. Ivan thinks that if he reached out and touched him, he’d probably be running warm. The thought is almost unbearable.

“Your taxi did take forever to arrive,” Ivan says, by way of explanation. 

“Did you really wait that long?”

He looks uncertain, for a moment. Ivan says, “Not at all. But you know, I’m always impatient when it comes to you.”

Till rolls his eyes, but it’s fond. “There was a meeting that ran late. I wasn’t avoiding you.”

“Is that also a part of your new position?” “I guess so, yeah.”

“I can see why they were eager to promote you, then,” Ivan says. “How productive can late afternoon meetings be, anyways?”

Till snorts. “Not that important. It definitely could have been an email instead. I was about ready to doze off.”

He sniffles again. “Okay. I think I know what I want.” The way he says know betrays the slightest hint of congestion. 

“At long last,” Ivan says, just to be a little bit of an ass. “I’ll call over the waiter.”

He flags their waiter down, waits for Till to order first.

“A spiced apple cider,” Till adds on, at the end, with the slightest of coughs. “Hot, if you can.”

That’s new, too. Till seldom orders hot drinks at restaurants, though he’ll drink tea without complaint if it’s offered. Perhaps his throat hurts, then, from the cold that has clearly started to settle in his system. Subtle, still, but Ivan is familiar with colds like this. He knows it will probably only be a few hours before this deceptively “small” cold turns into…

Ivan orders, too, and thanks the waiter, who leaves with a curt nod. When he looks back over to Till, there’s a… strange something to Till’s expression, a slight distractedness. Irritation.

Ivan swallows hard. He should look away. 

He should, but then, Till’s breath hitches. He pulls the scarf higher over his face preemptively, as if he anticipates having something to have to cover for. The sharp intake of breath that follows is breathy, though Ivan can hear Till’s voice in it. He should really look away.

Instead, he takes the scene in, painstakingly, little by little, as Till’s shoulders jerk forwards. As Till presses a hand to the scarf, presses the fabric closer to his face, to muffle a sneeze into his fingertips:

“hhH-Ih!! hiHH-’IESCHH-eew-!”

God. It sounds utterly miserable, the harsh release of it scraping against his throat, the spray tearing into his scarf. It’s the kind of cold sneeze that is undeniably telling: this is going to be one hell of a cold. It’s not very quiet, either, even muffled into the fabric.

For more reasons than one, Ivan is glad they’re in a private corner of the restaurant, not somewhere more public.

“Bless you,” he offers, once he can trust himself to speak. It’s a good thing that Till is too distracted to look up at him right now. Ivan isn’t sure he can keep what he’s feeling off of his face.

Truthfully, he isn’t sure he’s going to be able to endure a whole night of this.

The problem here is that Till—Till, of all people; Till, who Ivan has been pathetically in love with for almost as long as he can remember—has no idea about Ivan’s… relatively niche interests. That is to say, he has no idea what effect it has on Ivan when he does that.

“Thanks,” Till says, a little stuffily. He sniffles again, lowering his hand. 

Ivan can’t help it. He knows he shouldn’t pursue this line of questioning, but he can feel his self-control dwindling by the second. “Don’t you think it would be better to take off your scarf, now that we’re inside?”

Till freezes. “Y-You know what,” he says evasively. “It’s pretty cold in here.”

Ivan tilts his head in question. “And just how do you plan on eating like that?”

“I’ll take it off when our food comes.”

“I can ask the waiter to turn the temperature up, if it’s a problem,” Ivan says. 

“It’s not a problem.”

Ivan rises from his seat. Till watches him, perplexed, as he heads to the opposite side of the table, where Till is seated.

When he gets there, he stops. Stands, unmoving, so he can study Till from above. 

“What are you—”

Ivan reaches out, settles his palm across Till’s forehead. As expected, it’s warm. Not quite feverish, which is a good sign, but warm enough to be notable. 

“Just how long were you intending to hide this?”

Till stares back at him, wide-eyed. “Hide what?”

Shouldn’t it be obvious? “The fact that you have a cold.”

“I didn’t think it was worth mentioning,” Till says, slowly.

“Hmm.” Ivan drops his hand to his side. He is a little concerned, now. “We could’ve called a rain check.”

This time Till really does roll his eyes. “For the reservation we planned weeks ahead?” he sniffles again. “That just sounds completely and utterly unnecessary. Are you the type of person to call things off just over a little cold?” 

Ivan leans over, tugs down the edge of Till’s scarf. Till bats his hand away just a moment too late, cups his other hand over his face to shield his face from view. For a moment, he looks faintly mortified.

Then his expression settles into something more disgruntled. “What are you doing?” he hisses.

So uncooperative. “Let me see,” Ivan says. Slowly, gently, he pries Till’s hands away from his face, and then—because the restaurant is dimly lit—tilts Till’s face up slightly so that it catches more of the overhead light. 

Till’s nose is redder than usual. He’s probably been rubbing it all afternoon, if the redness that percolates into his cheeks is any indication. There’s  a damp, liquid sheen on the underside of his nose.

“What’s there to see?” Till says, a little crossly.

“Your face, since you’ve been so intent on hiding it under that scarf,” Ivan says, leaning in to get a better look.

Till scowls at him, but there’s no heat to it. “You see my face every day.”

“On the contrary, I don’t see it nearly enough,” Ivan says. “And you hardly ever get sick. Is it so wrong for me to be concerned?”

Without looking, he reaches behind him with one hand to grab a couple cocktail napkins. The other hand he keeps held up to Till’s cheek. 

But then, Till’s breath hitches. “Wait,” he says. Panic flashes through his face. “Ivan, move, I—”

Oh. Well, seeing as there’s no way he’ll be able to get the napkins over in time, it looks like he’ll have to improvise. If Till wants to cover, Ivan can help with that. He moves his hand to cup it loosely over Till’s mouth. Not a second too late, it seems. Till jerks forward unceremoniously, his nose twitching, his eyes squeezing shut.

“hHheh-! HHh’EIITShHh’yYiew!” he gasps sharply. Two? “Hh-! hHiiH’DSSCSSHh-IIew!”  

The jolt of the sneezes is practically electrifying—all of that force, brought to an abrupt halt behind Ivan’s waiting palm. He feels the expulsion of air against his skin, the warmth of Till’s breath, feels the slight dampness behind his hand as the spray mists over his fingertips.

Ivan swallows, hard. Thank god it’s so dark here, otherwise Till might notice what this is doing to him. 

“Bless you,” he says, withdrawing his hand at last to wipe it on one of the cloth napkins. It comes out slightly raspier than he intends it to, though perhaps it’s a miracle that he’s still able to talk at all. “Some cold, hmm?” Belatedly, he hands Till the stack of napkins.

Till practically snatches them from him, turns aside to blow his nose wetly into the top few. The way he sniffles afterwards suggests that his nose is still very much running. 

“Do you have no self preservation? It’s as if you want to catch this,” Till says, drawing back with another sniffle.

Oh, Ivan thinks, fighting back a shiver. That would be far from the worst thing.

[starssunsoftheinfinite]

so. I have been plagued. By thoughts.

Mainly of Loki. Loki being soft. Like,, male! Reader being so exhausted and unable to do much so. He takes care of them?? If that makes sense?

(Feel free to ignore!)

-💚

Sorry for the long wait! Stuff got pretty busy lol. This was a really fun thing to get me in the writing mood again though! There's another ask in my inbox so I'll get to that after! I just chose this one first since I knew it would be more low key (pun intended) and shorter.

I also wrote this on my phone so apologies if its a little odd looking I'm not sure if it'll translate well on laptops.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Fluff/comfort

Male reader x loki

Pet names used (sweet boy, pet, love, my darling, dear (for loki))

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your day had been overwhelmingly hard and incredibly overbearing. So much had happened at work, the job Loki insists you need not do on Midguard but you insist you do your part despite your lovers royal status securing more than enough money for the both of you. It was a retail job and while that may sound simple any mortal such as your self would know otherwise. Heimdall brings you back to Asgard and can already tell your warn out, satchel bairly handing onto your shoulder. "ah, y/n. You look well." he said in a genuine tone but it was clear by the smug look he was giving he meant to tease. You roll your eyes playfully "ha ha" you said, tilting your head to emphasise each exaggerated laugh. "Loki is waiting for you in your chambers." Heimdall says helpfully, smiling softly and giving a nod to urge you down the rainbow bridge. The walk was long and tireing, your thighs and calves hurt already, the hours of standing causing them strain, so a long walk was not ideal. Finally you pressed your palm against the cool gold doors of your shared bedroom and you throw your bag onto the armchair in the corner. "be careful you may break something" Loki teased and you roll your eyes, you've done that a lot today. You sit at your desk, planning to doodle. Nothing serious just mindless scribbles until your mind feels less like bile. You pull out the drawer and take out a pencil then go to sharpen it. Snap. The led breaks. Snap. It breaks again. Snap- "ugh!" you yell. Loki had already been keeping an eye on you, easily able to tell something was testing your patience. His eyes widen and he stands from where he lay on the bed, shutting his book. "Love? Are you quite alright?" he whispers softly, standing beside you but not too close, wanting to give you your space. "Im- mm" you barely begin the second word before your face is scrunching up and you whimper. Today had been so difficult but now you'd been pushed over the edge by something so small. Hands reach out to cup your face, crouching down a little to your sitting level "oh my sweet boy, no, don't cry. It's alright. I'm here my Darling." he cooes and you sink into his touch, whimpering and quivering. "today has been difficult hasn't it pet?" all you could do was nod. There was a comfortable silence between you two as he held you close. "up to your feet sweet boy, come to bed with me." he offers, gently helping you out of your seat and leading you to the soft sheets and comfort of bed. Loki crawls in and opens his arms, motioning you to lay against his chest and you happily do so. He runs his fingers through your hair" everything will be all right my love, everything will be alright. "he soothes and it's like his words are law. Your muscles loosen and your head grows empty, far too focused on the calming sound of his voice the gentle touch of his hands." there you are. No need to worry or fret. I am here. You are safe here. " he hummed. As the world melted away and all you could hear was Lokis voice and the comforting continuous sound of his heart beat, all you could feel was his hands on your skin and in your hair, and all you could smell was the warm scent of his lavender shampoo and black cherry soap, you felt your eyes grow heavier and heavier. "that's it sweet boy, you deserve rest. Take as much as you need. I will be right here when you wake. I promise." he hooked a finger under your jaw and tilted your head up ever so slightly. He craned his neck and pressed a kiss to your forehead, "I love you, my sweet Prince." he whispers and a small smile graces your lips "I love you too Dear.." your sentence trailed off into silence and soft breaths.