#Source: X-men: First Class

[random-ish-incorrect-quotes]

Courier Six: This will not bring you peace, Boone.

Boone: Peace was never an option.

[magnetoisnotahappybunny]

[movietimegirl]

Erik: Charles, you stole my car?

Charles: *nods*

Erik: Respect.

[incorrectfaithquotes]

John: Excuse me, I'm Father Ward. Garcia: Father Garcia. Cop: Go fuck yourself.

[emmafrostdefender]

a fine line between god and animal | logan howlett x fem reader

chapter 1 - biting the apple | masterlist | read the prologue first

two new mutants arrive at the mansion.

i am churning this thing out and i have a very specific direction that i'm going to take it. the story does not really follow the canon plot because that would be boringgg. trust me, i know where this bus is heading. i hope you stay along for the ride! figuratively and literally! wink wink

warnings: cursing, religion, religious trauma, fighting, canon typical violence, 5.5k words

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“Before you all leave, I want to give you food for thought. One of the heaviest themes of Frankenstein revolves around the idea of nature versus nurture. Is the creature inherently evil, or was his treatment by society what turned him into a monster?” You pose the question to your students as class comes to a close.

The similarities to your own existence is not lost on you. You hope the metaphor clicks in their minds as it did yours when you first read the classic novel. Charles made it assigned reading when he taught comparative literature at the school. When you were old enough, you took the job. And you were inspired by some of his lessons, of course.

“We will be discussing this theme next week, so those of you that haven’t done your reading…” You don’t finish your sentence, but make a face that communicates all they need to know.

Your students leave the classroom and you slump against your desk. Despite your outside calm, inside your thoughts are racing. 

Scott and Ororo aren’t back yet and you feel as if you could break something. Or a million somethings. 

The reasonable part of you knows that if something bad happened, Charles would know and tell you immediately. But the unreasonable part of you wants to drain your energy source to find them. To sneak your mind around the globe until you pick up on their footsteps crunching the ground or their signature heartbeats sending pulses into the air.

Before you can stop yourself, your feet are carrying you to the door that leads to the underground base of the X-Men. You’re going stir crazy.

Earlier in the day, before classes started, you assisted Jean in refining her powers. She wasn’t able to move a car with her mind, but she managed to start the engine without a key in the ignition. To you, that seemed more impressive. To the professor, it was exactly what he didn’t want. He wanted her to control her powers.

That word again. Control.

His reactions to Jean’s issues made you all the more wary to reveal your own struggles. With the recent revelation of Magneto’s scheme to abduct you, hesitancy bubbled up in your chest at adding anything more to Charles’ metaphorical plate. You would just be a burden.

Exiting the elevator, you enter the completely metal hallway, something of a labyrinth to newcomers. Your shoes echo against the metal and you look from left to right. No one else graces your path as you walk to the training room. There is another one upstairs that the students use when training with Scott, but you personally prefer this one. Far away from onlookers.

Your abilities don’t necessarily lend themselves to you having any physical prowess, but you managed to get trained up quite well in your years at the mansion. “The metaphysical is very much so connected to the physical. The health of your powers could very well depend on the health of your body,” Charles told you long ago. 

With nothing to do but wait, you change into the clothes from your locker and wrap your knuckles with tape. The large room is empty and you approach a punching bag. You begin. 

The rhythm you find is steady and fast. Hit after hit, blow after blow. The bag swings on its chain, bouncing back and forth between your hands. You punch and punch and punch, feeling anger build in your system. In your mind's eye, you see the bloody heart that was stolen from your chest. You see the chains holding you down. You see your mother’s face, staring at you in disgust. You see vines. Thousands of vines, each reaching to wrap themselves around your body, your arms, your legs, your neck. They rip the cross from your necklace, leaving a stinging brand there. You see your father’s lifeless form. 

And you feel your skull starting to split open when a voice says your name.

You nearly scream at the intrusion and your head flies around. “Holy shit, Jean! I could’ve killed you!”

“Yeah, I can see that,” she says with hesitancy. She’s looking at you like you’re a wounded animal about to lash out. Her eyes flit to the punching bag over your shoulder.

You look at it and gape at your handiwork. The bag ripped at the seams and sand spilled from the tears onto the ground. 

“Imagining Scott’s head?” She jokes, but it sounds strained. You hardly hear it.

You still stare at the punching bag, not quite sure what to make of this. You losing control was as infrequent as pigs flying, so…never.

A soft hand touches your shoulder. “Are you okay?” Jean asks so caringly.

You rip your gaze from the bag and look at her. You change your expression from one of near tears to one of slight amusement. “Must’ve gotten a little too enthusiastic.”

She analyzes you quickly, so quick you might’ve missed it if you didn’t know her so well. “I wanted to let you know that the jet is on its way back. They were able to locate the mutants.” You feel something in your chest relax. “Not in record time, though.”

You smirk. “Of course not. They didn’t have me.”

“Can you come help me prep the bay for when they get here?”

You nod. “Just let me change and I’ll meet you there.”

She turns to walk away and you watch her leave. Your gaze drops to your hands, where the tape did nothing to prevent the bruises forming around your knuckles. Looking at the clock hanging above the entrance, you realize two hours have passed. It’s nearly ten o’clock. 

As you enter the locker room, you swear you can still feel burning skin where your cross lays. 

You enter the loading dock of the jet in your regular attire and are greeted by Jean and the professor. They seem to be in deep discussion when you arrive, but snap their heads up the second they sense you coming. You can tell they were talking about you. 

You plaster a smile on your face and say sarcastically, “Looks like they managed to find them without me, after all.”

“They would’ve been here an hour after they left if you were with them, I’m sure,” Jean says with a playful roll of her eyes.

“Obviously.”

You shift your attention to Charles, who has begun using a computer to track the jet’s movements. Jean starts working the switchboard. You ask, “How many mutants did they pick up?”

His gaze does not move from the computer. “Two. A young girl and an older man. They were on separate paths until they met and started traveling together.” 

Your eyebrows furrow. “What made you think to bring them here?”

Charles has always been slightly particular when choosing the people to bring to his school. And even more hesitant to bring fully grown adults. At your question, his eyes shift to yours. “Why did I bring you to this school?”

You blink.

“To offer you protection. To offer you safety from a world that hurt you repeatedly. And to help you understand your abilities and use them for good. Not just to teach you Latin and calculus,” he adds with a smile. 

You nod, but still have a lingering question. “But why--”

He cuts you off, “Why am I bringing an adult man to our mansion as well?” He pauses. “Because he is extremely powerful. That kind of power can either be used toward the greater good, or harnessed for evil.”

By Erik.

“I see,” you say, hand mindlessly playing with your necklace.

Charles returns to the computer and says to you and Jean, “Get ready, they are nearly here.”

You are usually a part of the retrieval missions, making you less used to assisting with arrivals. However, you bring out two stretchers from the medical room and place them neatly by the door after getting a call from the jet. “They were in a rough fight with one of the members of the Brotherhood and the man is out cold. We think he has regenerative abilities so he isn’t badly injured, but the girl was with him when they got into a car accident. She’ll need attention. She’s jarred, but not unresponsive,” Ororo says.

Another of your jobs on the team is designated medic. You have innate knowledge of the human body and medical herbs because of your powers. It was never something you questioned when you were younger. If you scratched your arm or busted your lip open, you would skip into the woods and find something natural to heal yourself. Still, you begged Charles not to assign you to teaching biology. You despised the subject.

The ceiling of the hangar opens to reveal a velvety night sky. You feel the jet before you see it, the push it has on the trees around the mansion tingle your fingertips. The trees' movements stir your power source in your stomach, a warm, buttery feeling. The sleek aircraft lowers gently into the bay, your hair being pushed over your shoulders by the air movement. You feel relief at the sight of your friends returning from the mission; they exit the jet and you smile. Your grin droops at the sight of their expressions.

“We need you to look over these two, stat,” Scott says with urgency. 

You hurriedly bring the stretchers to the jet’s ramp and enter the main compartment with Scott and Ororo. Inside, they point you to a young girl, maybe sixteen years old, with brown hair and a soft face sitting in one of the seats. The two of them work to remove the man who sits slouched over in one of the front seats. The way they grunt, you’d think he weighs a ton.

The girl’s hands are wrapped tightly around the straps keeping her to the chair. When you approach, she jumps and stares at you with terrified eyes. “Hi, honey,” you say calmly. You introduce yourself. “I’m going to be taking care of you, okay? I just need you to undo these straps.”

She shakes her head tightly. “I can’t.”

“You can’t or you won’t?” You ask. 

She thinks between the two options and asks, “Am I safe?”

Your heart breaks. Upset coils in your stomach at the thought of all the people who have hurt this little girl. “Yes. You’re safe here.”

She seems to think this over and makes her decision. Her hands shakily unlatch themselves from the straps and move to unbuckle herself. You reach to help her, but she flinches. “Don’t touch me, please,” she says with desperation.

Your hands retract immediately.

“I just, it’s my…” she struggles with the words. “I hurt people when they touch me.”

You nod in understanding. That must have been a terrifying revelation for her. “That’s okay. We’ll get you all sorted out here. You are okay.”

She seems to relax a bit. You look over your shoulder and see your two friends lugging the man down the ramp and rolling him onto the stretcher. If this were any other scenario, you would laugh at Scott for struggling so much. 

You turn back to the girl and say, “And what’s your name?”

“Marie-- I mean, Rogue.” The way she says it makes you think she is still trying out the name for size.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Rogue.” You look her over and ask, “Are you able to walk or do you need help?”

She has undone the straps and sits a bit more forward in her chair. “I think I can stand.”

Rogue puts weight on her leg as she moves to stand up, but winces at the feeling and immediately sits back down. 

“Can I touch your clothes or is that also a problem?”

“You can. It’s just my skin.”

You sling her arm over your shoulder, careful not to touch any exposed skin, and help her out of the chair. “Just put your weight on me, hon’.”

She does as you say and leans against you completely. When you have exited the jet, you help her sit on the stretcher. The others have left, presumably to attend to the man. Charles is the only one left and he moves his wheelchair over to greet the young girl. “What is this place?” she asks after his introduction.

“It’s a place for people like you. And me. And her.” He points to you and you feel yourself smile. “It’s somewhere safe.”

Your gloved hand moves carefully over Rogue’s legs, feeling for any fractured bones or torn skin invisible to the eye.

She’s been relatively quiet for the duration of her examination, but she asks, “So, what can you do?”

You look up at her and grin. “I can do a lot of things.” You stand and walk to the shelves of potted plants on the wall to your right. You hold up one of the more pathetic looking plants and say, “See how this one is all wilted?”

Rogue nods. 

You pull your glove off with your teeth. “Watch this.”

Once your hand rests delicately against the plant’s stem, its wilting flowers perk up. A lush green color returns to its body, becoming perfectly healthy again. You look over at her and her mouth is gaping at the sight. “But why do you keep all the plants here if they’ll die without you?”

You put the plant back in its place and slip your glove back on. As you make your way back to the examination table, you say, “That’s exactly why. The professor used it as a tool to help me understand my importance here. To help me distinguish between the big parts of my powers and the smaller, more delicate parts.” You shrug as you grab some medical tape meant to alleviate and correct sprains. “I also like having company when I’m down here.”

“Company?” she asks when you kneel before her again to start wrapping her ankle.

“They talk to me,” you say, slightly mischievously.

Her mouth gapes again. “So, that’s your mutation? Talking to plants?”

“It’s a lot deeper than that. The Earth and I are like two sides of the same coin. Through our connection, I can track people if they are grounded. I can grow and heal things, but also kill them. I can create beauty, but also take it away. And I’m recently starting to realize I’m much more connected to humans than I thought.”

She considers this as you finish wrapping her ankle. 

You laugh a little. “Most of those are Professor X’s words, not mine.”

Charles arrives after a few minutes of comfortable silence, asking Rogue to come with him. You give her a small smile and tell her, “Make sure to drink those herbs with water once every day. It’ll help the pain.”

She gives you a tentative smile back. 

Before she leaves, you squeeze her gloved hand. “You’re gonna do great.”

Once the two of them are gone, you decide it's time to check on Jean and the man. She took him to the laboratory where digital scans of mutants’ brains and bodies could be completed. You walk down the hall and enter the door to the left, seeing Jean in her white lab coat. She is analyzing what looks to be brain waves on the monitor in front of her. “Oh, good,” she says when she turns to see you. “I wanted you to take a look at him. See if there’s anything I’m missing.”

You approach the table where he lays and take your first real look at him.

He is shirtless to allow the nodes and wires access to his chest. You scan over his body, seeing no obvious outer injuries. His face is calm in his induced state of comatose, but etched with what seems like a permanent line between his eyebrows. You have the urge to smooth it with your thumb.

“His name is Logan Howlett. He has extremely impressive regenerative abilities.”

Your eyes continue to study the ridges of his face. “Is that his mutation?” The thought of Charles saying he is a very powerful mutant crosses your mind. 

“That’s part of it. Once he wakes up, we'll give him a chance to tell us more. And then we’ll do a full body scan; Charles thinks there’s something else to him. He’s not wrong. Logan’s brain activity is far different from anyone I’ve ever seen,” she says in slight awe.

You continue to gaze at him. There is something else to him. Something you can’t quite place.

“Could you check his vitals for me? I didn’t notice anything strange, but I want to be sure,” Jean asks.

Hesitancy fills your body. For some reason, you don’t want to touch him. Some sort of dread pits in your stomach. Something will happen. 

Despite your body’s strange resistance, you nod curtly. You approach the table and lean over him. His scent fills your nose. It’s woodsy and smokey, all mixed with something metal that twinges your nostrils. You close your eyes and inhale, pressing your hand to his chest. In a second, you’ve been pulled to him, a vice grip around your wrist. Jean yells and starts pulling at your shoulders. Your body goes alive and you twist your arm around and headbutt him, causing him to loosen his grip on you. However, the moment your skull collides with his, you nearly pass out from the impact. It feels like he’s made of metal. 

“Oh, my God,” you groan, collapsing to the floor. Your head is throbbing.

Before you or Jean can react, he’s jumped off the table. It looks like he’s grabbed six knives and placed them between his fingers. “Where the hell am I?” he shouts.

Jean holds up her hands, but you’re still recovering on the floor, holding your forehead in your hands. Jesus, fuck. You hope He will excuse your language.

“You’re at Xavier’s School for Mutants in New York. We aren’t going to hurt you,” Jean says calmly. “Well, not anymore.” Her eyes flick down to you and you make a face.

“It wasn’t my fault he fucking attacked me,” you say with narrowed eyes. You glance at him, annoyance replacing the pain that had swept across your forehead. “What’s with the claws?” you ask, now realizing that what you thought were knives were actually thin metal spikes protruding from between his knuckles.

He stares at you, chest heaving. Then back at Jean. Fury clouds his eyesight, but you know there’s fear in there, too. 

“Look, we’re not going to hurt you. You’re safe here,” Jean says again. “I just need you to calm down and we can talk.”

The throbbing has eased and you make your way to stand. 

Something like a sarcastic grin falls on his lips. “Oh, sure, we can talk.” 

You position yourself, readying for a fight. “Get Scott,” you say to Jean quietly. 

“You sure?” she whispers back.

“Yeah, I’ve got this.”

She looks between the two of you for a moment, then runs out of the room. You hear her shoes echo in the hallway. 

“You really want to do this, bub?” he asks in a voice so quiet, you nearly miss it.

You watch him carefully. You know that you’ll never beat him, but you can keep him occupied until reinforcements arrive. “Do you really want to do this?” you respond with a grin.

Something lights in his eyes, something thrilling that makes your heart pound. He pounces, jumping over the table, his claws aiming for your throat. You dodge the attack, rolling to the side. You are back on your feet in an instant, crouching low to the ground. “Got anything else in you, big boy?” you tease, grin spreading wider at his fuming expression.

He yells, running at you with a speed you wouldn’t think him capable of. He shoves you to the ground with retracted claws and you grunt at the impact, but kick his legs out from under him, causing him to fall to the floor as you crawl away. He yanks your leg, making you stumble once more. You kick with all your might, but he won’t let go. Thinking you might be the stupidest person alive, you let him drag you so you’re pinned beneath him. “Sexy,” you say with a wink.

You can feel his steady heartbeat this close. "You're annoying," he hisses. You see his eyes drop to the cross around your neck and take that as your opportunity to kick him in the groin. He grunts and his hold around you weakens. You shove him off of you and stand to make a move for the door. You don’t think he’ll kill you, but you don’t want to take that chance.

Before you reach the door, an arm wraps around your waist and pulls you harshly against a solid body. You hadn’t noticed before, but he’s tall. Very tall. “Where do you think you’re going?” he whispers in your ear.

It sends a thrill down your spine.

“Are you always this friendly?” you whisper back, hand coming up to touch his arm. Your fingers hardly wrap around his forearm.

In the blink of an eye, he has detached himself from you, falling to the floor. Your fingers tingle from the use of your power, slowing his heart rate enough that he would go unconscious, but not enough to kill him. With his regenerative abilities, though, you assume he’ll be back on his feet in about five minutes. You hardly ever use that ability, finding it invasive. With this man, however, you think your actions are justified.

You nudge his leg with your foot when Jean and Scott come running in. “Holy shit, you took him out yourself?” Scott asks incredulously. 

“I just slowed his heart rate so that he wouldn’t break all the bones in my body. I appreciate your faith in me, though, Scott,” you say, wiping your brow.

He approaches the man on the floor, coming to stand beside you. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. He nearly broke my skull, though.”

Scott raises a brow. 

“How are we going to get him adjusted if he won’t speak to us without starting a fight?” Jean asks as she starts to fix the state of the room.

“I think our best bet is to leave him alone,” you say.

Scott looks at you. His visor blocks his eyes, but you can tell they are looking at you as if you are crazy. “Leave him alone? He’ll wreak havoc trying to find a way out.”

You shrug. “I think there’s someone who might be able to convince him to stay.”

“Better than getting a face full of claws,” Jean says, glancing at his limp body.

Exhaustion washes over you when you take the elevator back upstairs. It’s three in the morning and the events of the day are finally hitting you square in the chest.

You slump against the metal railing of the elevator, relishing in the silence. Jean and Scott stayed with Logan to put him in a state of deep sleep so that he wouldn’t go stalking around the mansion at night. You could imagine how some poor child would react to running into such a large and imposing man in the middle of the night. It would be terrifying.

You run your fingers through your hair and pinch the bridge of your nose. His smell lingers around you, crowding your space. 

What a prick.

Fighting you like that when all you wanted to do was help him? What was he going to do? Kill you?

A part of you wants to believe that he wouldn’t do that, but another part of you understands that he would’ve done anything to get out of here.

Logan.

You test the name out on your tongue. You wonder if he has another name, too. Something all of his enemies know by heart.

Deciding that that was enough thinking for the night, you shut your brain off and exit the elevator. You make your way to your bedroom and collapse on your bed, sleep hitting you like a bus.

You wake, body aching and head throbbing. Although you managed to escape the fight with no outer wounds, your body protests as you remove yourself from your bed. Thank God it’s Saturday.

Thankfully, your mind allowed you a break from the night terrors that plagued you so frequently, instead replacing them with dreams of walking through a forest. As you walked farther into the dank, the trees began to die, but you woke before anything else could happen. 

You get ready for the day and make your way downstairs. In the kitchen, you see Ororo sitting at the counter with a mug of coffee in her hands. Before you can voice your question, she says, “There’s some in the pot.”

You grin and pour the coffee into your bright pink mug along with the creamer that sits by the pot. Scott calls the shade an affront to the color pink. “So…” you start.

“He isn’t awake yet. Charles thinks he’ll be up in an hour or so.”

Relief slumps your shoulders and you take a seat across from her, moving the coffee around in your mug before you take a sip. “He is crazy strong, Ororo,” you scoff. “It felt like his skeleton was made of metal. And his claws…” You shake your head.

“Charles thinks he’ll be useful to us.”

“I know. I just hope he calms down a bit.” 

Ororo gives you a sheepish smile. “You have to admit, he is handsome, though.”

You laugh. “That’s the impression he gave you?”

She shrugs. “I might have a different one if I had to fight him.”

You contemplate her statement. You suppose he was handsome, but it didn’t startle you when you first saw him. It was the kind of beauty that creeps up and you don’t realize it until you’ve been staring at them for too long. He was rugged, yes, but there was something enticing about his looks. A boyish quality. You remember the smirk that donned his face when he challenged you to a fight.

You shake your head. “Yeah, he definitely made an interesting impression.”

The two of you leave the kitchen once some of the older students begin filing in, many making their own breakfasts instead of eating the provided meal with the other students in the dining room. “Are we training today?” you ask as the two of you walk down the main hall.

“I think Charles wants us to wait until he’s spoken with Logan. Wants us to meet him properly.”

You roll your eyes. ‘Meet him properly.’ Tackling someone to the ground isn’t a proper greeting?

“Be nice,” you hear someone say behind you. Jean falls into stride with the two of you. 

“Jean! Don’t read my thoughts,” you say, pushing her lightly.

“But you think so loudly,” she complains.

The three of you make your way outside, deciding to steer clear of the mansion until Logan has had his conversation with Charles. “I really don’t want to run into him again. It would not be conducive to a healthy future relationship,” you mutter.

“He is kind of volatile, isn’t he?” Jean asks rhetorically. “I mean, he attacked with no real provocation.”

“Waking up in a room you’ve never been in with two strangers isn’t provoking enough?” Ororo asks, taking a seat at one of the lawn tables. You join her, leaning back in your chair.

Being in nature calms your nerves, but also sets them alight. Your senses come to life again and you hear the running water of the fountain, the wind whistling through the trees, and the small animals stepping in the grass. As Jean and Ororo continue their conversation, you close your eyes and lean your head back and allow yourself to connect. It is only the second day after the full moon, which means your sensitivity to everything around you is still high. You pull at the energy from the ground, letting it throb through your body. You feel the aching in your body disappear, feel your muscles rejuvenated, feel the blood pumping through your veins.

You hear the humming of a man’s voice, scratchy and slightly off-key. It’s a voice you haven’t heard in years. He’s humming something that only graces your ears in dreams. It scratches your scalp and kisses your forehead. Dad.

You steady your breathing, trying to latch onto his voice. You’ve never experienced this in the daytime; it usually only happens when you’re asleep or in a deep meditative state. The words of your friends fade away.

In your mind’s eye, you stand from the table and follow the humming into the woods. You stumble over fallen branches, but your unusual miscoordination doesn’t prick the logical part of your brain. All you can think of is your father. His voice roaming through the trees, taking you deeper into the woods. And suddenly, you are somewhere else.

The church. 

His voice is gone.

“No,” you whimper, turning into a young girl again. 

You feel the shackles of the past lock around your wrists, forcing you to your knees. A screech escapes your throat at a forcible yank of your hair backwards. You look up to see your mother staring down at you. Her eyes are pitch black. “Your father rejects you. Even in death, he will not visit your wretched soul,” she says with a sneer, pulling your hair farther back. It feels as if she is trying to rip it from your skull.

“He never rejected me,” you spit.

“Are you so sure?”

You open your eyes with a deep inhale. It wasn’t real. You remind yourself.

Jean and Ororo stare at you, waiting for your response to something. You subtly shake your head of the images conjured by your mind and ask, “Sorry, what were we talking about?”

You hope they assume your exhaustion from last night got the better of you and you simply dozed off for a moment. “Logan is ready to meet us,” Jean says, her eyes a reflection of worry. Not toward meeting Logan, to your dismay.

“Oh, great.”

Despite a desire to remain calm, your heart thunders in your chest. You worry your cross between your fingers. You have no idea what to expect from him; you fully believe he will pounce at you again. 

Ororo holds your hand as the three of you enter Charles’ study. Scott sits on the armrest of one of the chairs in the room, arms folded over his chest. Charles is behind his desk and sitting ever so casually on the edge of the desk, is Logan.

He wears a gray X-Men sweatshirt and the jeans he had on when he arrived at the mansion. His eyes fall to yours immediately, recognition filling his gaze. You break eye contact dismissively, going to sit on the other armrest of the chair Scott sits on. You keep your eyes strictly on Charles, but you feel Logan’s on you. Your heart doesn’t steady.

“Everyone, this is Logan Howlett. The Wolverine,” Charles says, gesturing to the man sitting on his desk.

Scott huffs a laugh. “Wolverine? Like the animal?”

You nudge him in the side. “As if Cyclops is any better.”

Charles clears his throat. “Please.”

“We are the X-Men, some of which you have already met.” Charles gives you a pointed look. You throw your hands up in defense. “I promise you not all of your introductions will be so…violent.”

Scott snickers. 

“Shut the hell up,” you hiss. Your eyes flick to Logan’s. He watches the interaction between you two carefully.

Charles goes around the room, introducing each of your friends to the stranger. When he gets to you, Logan’s stare bears into you heavier than it had before. It intimidates you, but doesn’t scare you. Charles tells him your name, following with, “Others know her as Proserpina, the Roman goddess of spring.”

You don’t expect him to say anything, but his voice fills your ears for the first time since last night. “The goddess of spring is who knocked me out cold last night?”

“It’s not just nature I can manipulate,” you say tersely. “Bub.”

His eyes narrow as his lips turn up in a smirk.

Charles finishes the introductions and tells the team that training will commence in thirty minutes. The second his spiel is over, you stand. Deciding to jump into the fire, you approach Logan. “Sorry about last night,” he says.

It takes you by surprise. You expected more of a fight from him.

“Uh, it’s okay,” you say, shaking your head slightly. “You gave me some much needed practice.”

You sense your friends watching your interaction from afar. Although they are conversing casually, you feel their eyes on you.

“Yeah, you seemed a little rusty, Pro.”

You narrow your eyes. “And you seemed a little overzealous, Wolverine.”

He grunts. “If that’s overzealous, then I worry for your boyfriend.” He points to Scott on the word boyfriend.

“Scott?” You laugh. “Now, that’s a good joke. You’re funny.”

A look of confusion crosses his face and you leave him like that, feeling content with how the conversation ended. Screw a healthy relationship.

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i had to get this out of my brain or i was going to go crazy. i hope you enjoyed! im excited to keep writing them :)

[tojifile]

Kibutsuji Muzan: Reincarnation

You're back..

Genre: Romance // Muzan x oiran!reader

⚠️: prostitute!reader, suggestive, kidnapping, not fully consensual

A/N: My first non-bsd fanfic !! I'm super happy about it, I read about an oiran and the differences in social classes at 12AM, it was like reviewing for my history class again. It was a lot of late-night reading so if there's misinformation please inform me immediately !!

INSPO: pinejayy

It was a well-lit and busy night, as it always was in the entertainment district. Little did everybody know the demon king—Kibutsuji Muzan was in their midst, walking along the streets, blending in with the loud crowd.

A procession was about to start, all eyes would be on the oiran—dragging her geta on the ground as she walked. The oiran on this particular night was none other than, you. Your scent was immediately picked up by Muzan. It was the same scent he had grown to love, from the person he had lost to time.

His interest was piqued the moment he picked up your scent. His gaze traveled far, trying to find the source of the scent. His gaze then landed on you, he watched you as you walked with such grace, you were as beautiful as the day he lost you.

Muzan lost you through the inevitable disease called time. You weren't willing to become a demon—instead, you promised him that you would find eachother in each lifetime and it will all end the same, with you in his arms.

You were given the name 'Minori' by the oiran who took you in as a child, starving in the unforgiving world of class and power. As an oiran you were known to be quite finicky. Although an oiran did have the right to choose who they would lay with, you were known for having not slept with anyone ever since you rose to your rank. Many men tried wooing you with their "looks" and "charm" but in the end you deem none of the worthy.

You were intelligent, beautiful, and skilled in various languages and arts. You were also a dear friend of Koinatsu, one of the most revered oiran in the Yoshiwara District. Muzan had heard about Minori before, from mundane gossip to papers of advertisement. He just didn't expect it to actually be you.

After seeing you walk, he spoke to Daki. He had released an order to his demons that you weren't allowed to be killed—instead, you had to be protected. Anyone who had protested against Muzan's order was immediately killed, without another word from their lifeless lips.

You had just gone back from the procession, you were quietly fixing up in your room, filling it with your presence. It was neither sweet nor destructive, it was just you. You were sitting in front of the mirror, fixing your hair until you saw a man appear behind you—you immediately stood up and looked back in fear.

Suddenly the room went dark, you couldn't see a thing. You then felt an eerie presence behind you—it was Muzan. He gently grabbed you from behind, by the waist and pulled you closer to him. "You're back.." he whispered in your ear.

It was strange, the man's touch was cold and his breath wasn't even slightly warm. Your body tensed up, "b- back..?." you nervously asked "Y/N.. I thought I'd never see you again.." he mumbled softly while one hand was secured on your waist, preventing further problems and the other hand lifting your chin to one side, granting him access to your neck.

'Y/N? Who was he talking about? I don't even know anyone named Y/N, maybe this was a new thing with men, maybe roleplay is quite popular nowadays, is this just a drunkard that wandered in my room?!' were the thoughts that ran into your head. You were too afraid to move, you didn't know what wrath would be brought down on you if you disobey.

Chomp he bit your neck, his fangs sunk into your neck, blood trickled down your skin, staining your carefully crafted kimono. You felt a sharp pain in your neck, you felt the blood trickling down your skin as well. He removed his teeth from your skin, letting the blood flow down.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as he stopped biting you, he turned you to him and wiped your tears away with his thumbs, a soft smile could be seen on his face. "Oh Y/N.. you used to love my bites.." he spoke with a sweet tone. You reached up for his hands "Who are you.. please stop.." You muttered, your fear was clear, you were trembling slightly as you held the back of his hands tightly. This made him angry, his grasp on you tightened and the soft smile on his face was replaced by an angry scowl.

He wasn't letting you go this time. You were going to live with him forever, he couldn't abide by your wishes. He needed you by his side, he wasn't going to play by the rules set by time and destiny.

You whimpered softly as he tightened his grip. His hands travelled back to your waist, pulling you in. You haven't fully grasped the events of the night. It was all too much.. how could he bite you like that? Who was Y/N? You looked at him through your tear-filled eyes and held onto his chest. "P- please.." you mumbled.

Muzan wasn't going to listen to reason, he let you have some of his blood to ensure that you'd stay with him forever. You were now a demon at his mercy. Although you didn't suffer the same curse the other demons did. Muzan wanted to hear you say his name, after not hearing it for centuries, he needed to hear it now.

You grasped his arms tightly as you felt yourself transform from a human to a demon. You felt your fangs and your desire for blood growing. You were still clearly competent but your body grew weaker due to the high concentration of his blood. Muzan picked you up, making sure you wouldn't be able to escape. "It doesn't matter if you don't remember me, in time you'll learn to love me again." He spoke with a cold tone. He then disappeared into the night sky with you in his arms.

Spontaneous post: 07/03/23 02:25AM GMT+8 Philippine Standard Time

[seonghwaddict]

private lessons — song mingi

in which professor song is the man everyone on campus longs for but only you get to have.

professor!song mingi x fem!reader. genre. fluff, smut. warnings. explicit sexual content minors dni, reader wears a dress, unprotected sex, student x teacher relationship (consenting and legal), dom!mingi, slightly mean but also soft dom!mingi, fingering, dirty talk, petnames (doll, baby, fucktoy/toy, plaything, slut, whore), degradation, praise, creampie, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, brief begging, cockwarming, sir kink. wc. 3.5k. rating. mature.

lilo’s notes. i have nothing to say for myself.

listening to. les, childish gambino

masterlist

you practically sprinted through the halls of the main university building, nearly running into various people idling around. checking the time on your phone, you cursed silently. the lecture had started half an hour ago and you hated being late, but it really wasn’t your fault.

your alarm hadn’t gone off and you ended up waking up a lot later than you usually do. after that, your bus just had to get stuck in traffic, a consequence of waking up late. and now you had to literally run for your life to get to the lecture hall, the door creaking as you step in, drawing all the attention to you.

“how nice of you to finally join us, miss L/N.”

you glanced at the source of the voice despite already knowing who you’ll find. professor mingi was your physics teacher. but more than that, he was tall and broad shouldered, wearing black slacks and a fitted black long sleeve tucked into the slacks, the sleeves rolled half way up his arm whose muscles flexed each time he reached up to push his thin-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. you could, by all means, call him one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen. many agreed, groups of girls and guys alike whispering over his attractiveness during lecture or ogling as they spotted him around campus during regular tasks. the only difference between you and them was the fact that you got to have him all to yourself behind closed doors.

bowing quickly, apologies rolled off your tongue as your cheeks heated up with embarrassment. “i’m so sorry, sir. there were some complications on my way here, it won’t happen again.”

a low chuckle left his lips and he waved dismissively, gesturing to the row of seats. “it’s quite alright, take a seat. you can stay after class for a bit and i’ll explain what you missed.”

you nodded silently and walked to an empty seat in the third row, cheeks burning and a tingling sensation pooling in your abdomen at the implications of his words. before you could stop yourself, you were reminded of what you did two nights before. you and him, tangled in his bedsheets. the vivid memory had your eyes widening and turning to your laptop to force yourself to take notes, missing the knowing smirk on his face as he continued the lecture.

truthfully, focusing proved to be a difficult task. every time you thought you could finally pay attention to what he was saying, your mind helpfully playing back images of previous encounters with him. you shifted in your seat uncomfortably, the heat between your legs distracting you.

before you knew it, he concluded the lecture and everyone was out of the room, leaving the two of you alone. you got up from your seat, walking down the small steps, taking your stuff with you and placing them on a seat in the first row for convenience purposes. his back was turned to you as he wiped words and equations off the whiteboard.

“eager to learn more, miss L/N?” he speaks without turning to you, the muscles of his arms under the shirt flexing slightly as he rubbed away all the writing with an eraser. you could hear the smile in his voice. “i must say, i’m quite impressed at your dedication to his subject.”

you chuckle softly and play along, walking to stand at the desk behind him, leaning against the wood. “well, subjects are interesting when you have a professor who gives you… private lessons.”

“private lessons, you say?” he turned around at that, the familiar smirk adorning his face as he saw you merely three steps away. three steps which he took slowly, standing in front of you. his eyes privately roamed over your body now, unable to do so in a room full of students he was supposed to teach. he liked the cute little sundress you wore, and he knew that you knew, suspecting that you wore the dainty light pink fabric on purpose. his hands brushed against your arms, eliciting goosebumps as he placed them on your waist, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “how about one right now?”

“are you sure?” you rested you hands on his forearms, looking around. “what if someone walks in?”

one of his hands leaves your waist to cup your cheek softly, thumb brushing over your skin. “no one’s supposed to come in here for another hour, it’s just you and me.”

you bite your lip nervously before nodding, relaxing in his hold. with your permission, he leaned forward, barely brushing his lips against yours before leaning it into just a peck, pulling back just as quickly to look at you for a moment. a second later, his lips were back on yours, the kiss remained gentle but there was a sense of urgency as his hand on your waist moved to your hips, kneading your flesh softly, and yours found themselves gripping his shoulders.

goosebumps ran down your spine as he groaned against your lips, his tongue swiping along your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth to explore. his thumb traced your jaw so gently as you pulled away from each other after several minutes, panting.

you looked up at him with round eyes, a giggle leaving your swollen lips. “we really shouldn’t be doing this here of all places.”

“yeah, you’re right,” he took a small step back after pressing a final kiss to your forehead, straightening out his clothes, “if you’re up for it, you can come back to my place later.”

a soft smile spread along your flushed face, nodding as you leaned up to return a kiss to his cheek. “yeah, i’d like that.”

“now,” he cleared his throat, slowly trying to regain his composure he adjusted the collar of his shirt. “if you’ll excuse me, i need to go prepare for my next class.”

“you’re excused, professor.” you laugh as you step around him to go grab your bag from the seat you set it on.

but before you could reach it, his voice called out to you again, making you stop in your tracks and turn to him, finding him walking towards you already. when he reached you, he cupped your face with both of his large hands and kissed you once again, more chastely than the kiss before. when he left your lips, one last kiss found itself on your cheek before he fully stepped away.

“okay, you may go now.”

several hours later the door to mingi’s penthouse fell shut as the two of you stepped in. as soon as the comforting click of the lock sounded, you were all over each other, lips latching onto each other, hands groping all over the place. after haphazardly kicking off your shoes and pulling each other’s coats off, you somehow managed to get to his familiar bedroom, all the while never pausing to breathe.

his whole place had a modern design, extending to the bedroom too. a big king sized bed in the middle of the spacious room, the wall on its right covered by a sleek bookshelf and two doors—one to the en suite bathroom and the other to his walk in closet—and the wall on its left was your favourite part. instead of yet another white wall, it was a large flor to ceiling window, offering a stunning view of the city. now the room was illuminated by the night life of the city and the moon. neither of you cared enough to draw the curtains shut; who would be able to see into the fifty-seventh floor of the building anyway?

mingi kept a hand on your hip while the other closed the bedroom door behind you before joining his other hand at your hips, his lips kissing and sucking at your neck as he slowly walked you backwards. your breaths grew shallow as he marked up your neck but he stopped when the back of your knees hit the bed, barely pulling back to mutter, “get on the bed, doll.”

you shivered at the husky tone, a slight rasp to his voice, heavy with desire. wanting nothing but to make him happy with you, you got on the bed, scooting back and laying down. his fingers quickly undid the buttons of his shirt, tossing it to the ground beside the bed before joining. he hovered over you and leaned over to turn on one of the lamps so he could see you better, taking off his glasses and placing them on the bedside table while he was at it.

“so beautiful, lying there for me.” he hummed, his hands trailing from your shoulder down the length of your arms, teasingly sliding down the straps of your dress until your breasts spilled over the fabric and you squirmed beneath him lightly. he leaned down to pepper kisses across your chest as his hands moved down to massage your thighs, letting his tongue slip out to tease your nipples as he passed over them, barely holding back a smile at your quiet whimpers.

he pushed the skirt of your dress up to your waist, nodding and humming approvingly at the matching pink panties you had on, eyes zeroing in on the wet patch practically begging for his attention. a groan nearly rips itself out of his throat at the sight, leaning back on his heels to watch as he lets his thumb brush over the fabric, making your thighs tremble with need.

“need my help, baby?” he cooed at you almost mockingly, letting his thumb press against your clit over the damp fabric for a fraction of a second.

“yes, please.” you breathed, breath hitching at his teasing.

“please what?”

“please, sir, i need you.” you whined impatiently, bucking your hips slightly.

mingi chuckled at your desperation, nodding as he lifted your legs to slide off your panties. “okay, doll, i’ll help you. i’ll take good care of you.” he discarded the panties, dropping them off the edge of the bed, and placed your legs down again, spreading them apart so he can look at your dripping folds. this time he couldn’t hold back his groan of raw pleasure, feeling his cock twitch in his pants. “so fucking perfect.”

you whined at his words, clenching around nothing and making more slick seep out of you. his eyes followed the clear string of arousal as it dripped onto his bedsheets.

“that’s it, doll,” he muttered, low and rough, “so perfect and wet for me and i haven’t even touched you, can’t wait to hear you scream my name. you’ll scream my name when you cum, won’t you, my love?”

as he spoke, his index finger dipped between your soaking folds and gathered arousal to barely run it over your clit. you whimpered and shuddered, unable to answer his question with more than a quick nod.

“mhm, i thought so,” he gradually increased the pressure of his finger on your clit, “but you better scream it nice and loud for me, okay? so i can hear that pretty voice of yours.”

you force yourself to answer, voice barely above a whisper as your hips shifted with each circle of his finger. “y-yes, sir.”

“good girl, so obedient,” he leaned down to press a fluttering kiss to your forehead before resuming his position, adding another finger to his work on your clit. “do you know what you are to me, doll?”

“no… tell me,” you bit your lips to hold back any embarrassing sounds you may make under his touch. but his other hand quickly came up to pull your bottom lip from your teeth before dropping to your hips again.

“i told you i want to hear your pretty voice,” he snapped, somehow still sounding caring even if he was scolding you. he continued, “you’re my toy. my prefect little fucktoy.”

and though your breath hitched and you looked confused for a moment, he could feel the sudden increase in wetness as his fingers stroked you, so he continued.

“because i want to fuck you until morning light, my love,” he slipped a finger into you easily, only feeling the stretch once he added a second finger, making your breath hitch and back arch, “my own fucktoy to play with whenever i feel like it.”

the idea had a knot forming in your abdomen as his fingers bent and brushed over your sweet spot with each thrust, coaxing you closer to your climax. with each dirty word he spoke, you felt yourself growing more and more aroused, and he could feel it too as you squeezed around his digits.

“fuck…” he cursed hoarsely, his thumb rubbing your erect clit perfectly as his fingers stroked your walls, “you’re so tight and worked up just from my fingers. i bet you crave to have my cock inside you, huh?”

your hands clenched and dug into the bedsheets, cursing softly as sweet moans left your lips. you nodded at his words, not trusting your words.

“yeah? want my hard cock deep inside you, filling up your drenched little hole?” he slid a third finger into your hole, making you choke back a moan at the stretch.

“ye- fuck… yes, sir, please,” you whined, eyes squeezing shut as his three fingers continuously pressed against your g-spot.

“i know, i know, my doll, my toy,” he cooed, his free hand stroking your thigh affectionately, eyes focused on every twitch of your face muscles, slowly watching you come undone. “you’re close aren’t you? go ahead and cum all over my hand. show me how much of a pretty little whore you are for me.”

as if his words flipped a switch, you tipped off the edge and did just as he said, your juices flowing around his digits and out of your hole. you came with a cry, your voice muffled as he pressed his lips against yours and swallowed every sound you made. his fingers slipped out of you but rubbed your clit a few more times to help you ride out your orgasm before pulling back completely, sitting back on his heels again.

mingi looked down at your pussy, humming at the sight of your fluttering hole and the release smeared sloppily between your thighs. “mmmm, well aren’t you quite the messy slut, huh? but i suppose that makes you a perfect toy, so responsive and obedient.” he brought his fingers to his lips, licking off your release hungrily, groaning at the taste as he watched you take deep breaths, still trembling from your climax. “calm down a bit and then i’ll fuck you senseless, yeah?”

you poured up at him, legs absentmindedly spreading wider, panting softly as you looked up at him with round eyes. “no, i’m ready now, sir, please.”

“really?” he raised a patronising eyebrow, clicking his tongue. “are you sure?”

“yes, sir,” you nodded quickly, “please, please, please, i promise i’m ready.”

he scoffed and leaned down, holding his body above yours with one hand in the mattress beside your head as his other hand expertly removed his belt and shucked off the rest of his clothes. you watched as his eyelids fluttered as he stroked his cock a few times, not taking his eyes off you, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “you’re so desperate to get fucked by your professor. what a pathetic little mess you are.”

he rubbed his tip along your folds, gathering slick before slowly pressing himself into your entrance. though you were familiar with his size and girth, having been fucked by him various other times, the stretch never failed to make you shudder, your head falling back against the soft bed as your back arches against him and you let out a wanton sigh.

“keep those legs spread, baby,” his whispered, hips stuttering as you clenched around him on his way in. when he bottomed out, he stilled, letting you adjust as his hand brushed one hair away from your flushed, sweaty face. “you take me so well, my love… such a good little plaything.”

once he’s given your signal, a breathless nod, he began to rock his hips against yours, pulling out before thrusting in. at first, it was slow, but when you gave him encouraging moans, he picked up his pace. your hands reach up to cup his face, pulling him down to kiss him. it was a sloppy kiss, all teeth and heavy breaths as the feeling of his cock driving into you with just the right amount of roughness to make your head spin.

when your lips parted, you looked up at him. his eyes fluttered shut and stayed shut for a few moments, bottom lip caught between his teeth, eyebrows furrowed with pleasure as you clenched around him rhythmically.

“thank you, sir,” you managed to whine our, voice barely above a whisper. you weren’t sure why you were thanking him, but the urge to be a good toy for him had you doing anything to get him to coddle you and care for you and fuck you so good for the rest of your life.

a deep chuckle left him, one of his hands reaching down between your bodies, brushing over a nipple before reaching your clit and rubbing in time with his thrusts. “just remember who you belong to, doll.”

“you,” you gasp softly at the combination of his cock inside you and his fingers on your clit, stimulating you and gradually building another climax.

“that’s right, maybe you aren’t just a brainless toy for me to fuck after all, hm?” he smiles, kissing your forehead, the affection a stark contrast to his degrading words. “you belong to me, and i intend to keep you satisfied and full. you’re full, aren’t you?”

you nodded quickly, fingers tightening in his shoulders as he gave you a particularly sharp thrust, “s-so full.”

he was entranced by you, lost in the feeling of you wrapped around him. he paid attention to ever breath, figuring out what you seemed to like. he angled his hips differently and watched as your eyes rolled back, jaw going slack as he hit that spot repeatedly.

“look at you, so beautiful and all for me to enjoy,” he purred, pressing down hard on your clit as he thrusted up into you at a bruising pace. you felt as if the wind was knocked out of you, confessing that you were so so close, to which he only smirked and pressed down on your clit in an intentional pattern. “cum for me, doll, let go.”

there was always something about the way he commanded you to finish that you couldn’t resist, seconds later another orgasm crashing over you as he continued his movements. you came with a loud moan, crying out his name incoherently just like he said he wanted. eventually, his hips slowed but you noticed he hadn’t finished, shaking your head quickly.

“no, please, keep going,” you practically begged, looking at him with glossed over eyes, “use me, sir.”

he growled out something you couldn’t quite hear, your fucked out mind perceiving everything as hazy as he drove his length into you slowly and deeply, bringing himself to a finish. it didn’t take him much longer to finish, painting your walls white with his release as his movements stuttered to a stop, groaning. you whimper at the feeling of him quite literally filling you to the brim with his seed, shuddering as your legs trembled from overstimulation.

a few moments later he lifts his head firm between your breasts. “let’s get you cleaned up?”

you shook your head, pulling him close. “we can do that in the morning.”

mingi laughed silently, kissing your jaw and nodding. his short washed out pink hair brushed against your face, tickling you. he pulled out of you, making you whine in protest. “patience, doll,” he teased you, moving you to lay on your side before lying down behind you, spooning you as he slipped his length inside you again and pushed in any of his release that may have seeped out. you sighed contentedly at the full feeling, pressing your back against him.

“i give this private lesson five stars,” you muttered through a stupid grin as his nose nuzzled against the back of your neck. you felt his chest shake with laughter behind you as he draped an arm over your waist.

“out of five i’m assuming, right?”

“no, out of ten,” you chuckled but gasped softly as his hand moved up to pinch your nipple without warning.

“out of five, right?”

“out of five.”

networks. @cromernet

taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo

[prettyboykatsuki]

BLUELOCK MEN AS SHOUJO + JOSEI ROMANCE TROPES / PLOTS | 18+

isagi yoichi - shoujo romance, childhood friends to lovers + boy next door. student athlete that isn't obviously popular but is generally liked by girls for being charming and approachable. madly in love with you, his childhood best friend and plans to keep it from you as long as he can. corny bedroom confession with a timeskip of you living in apartment together. his parents congratulate him when you start dating

bachira meguru - josei romance, strangers to lovers. has a secret identity or persona with a lot of online popularity and runs into you in his everyday attire. think cross-dressing or cosplay. comforts you in his normal clothes and runs into you again in some varied form of costume and always ends up saving you from different kinds of trouble and being a source of comfort for how positive he is. easily jealous and teases you a lot + very forward. the first time you have sex he's dressed as alice in wonderland for a photoshoot. embarrassed when you flirt back

kunigami pre-wild card - shoujo romance, classmate turned love interest. he's actually not your crush, but your friends. you're in the same class and attempt to play wingman. usually ends with you being alone with him. you end up falling for him and try to keep it to yourself for a long time out of a sense of guilt. kunigami flirts consistently and even asks you out. confession scene ends with you running away, him chasing after you and telling you he wants to be with you no matter what. you overreact about what your friend will say (they've known for a while)

kunigami post wild-card - josei romance. a guy you crushed on in highschool who comes back to your hometown totally different and kind of a jerk. you end up getting drunk and having sex. this undefine relationship leads to arguing until kunigami gets his act together. you work it out but ppl in reviews hate him

chigiri hyoma - josei romance, classic college group project partner trope. a little older than you. very put together. you're the only ones who work on the project. mysterious, pretty, dresses well. you crush on him one-sidedly until the project ends and then have a misunderstanding about him having a gf. (its his sister). confession happens after you avoid him and he confronts you. sadistic in bed but takes it slowly for you.

nagi seishiro - josei romance, partner in an online video game you play. is 100+ levels above you in an rpg and carries you through dungeons. plays as a character that doesn't suit him. you meet at a convention and he is a hot guy. continues to ask to hangout and takes advantage of the fact you have a hard time saying no to him. uses emoticons over text but is blank irl. very direct in his confession + doesn't let you avoid him. sex after getting together. gentle in bed but doesn't let you get up the next morning.

reo mikage - shoujo romance, rich x poor trope. you end up working for his parents company to pay off debt and he finds you there. you've had beef since forever. uses this as an opportunity for him to extort you but ends up really admiring your resolve. one-sidedly pines after you and throws money at the problem. forces you to go as his plus one to some gala and confesses to you on the dance floor. you think he's making fun of you but he is not. goes to your house to clear things up days later. makes you quit your job

itoshi rin - shoujo romance, classic school ikemen prince with bad personality. few close friends but always garners a lot of attention. you keep crossing paths with him against your will. eventually this leads to one-sided beef that makes you run into each other even more. douchey tsundere while falling in love. falls harder. kabedons you in the school hall way. tosses all of his valentines chocolates except for yours. his mom fawns over you.

itoshi sae - josei romance, extremely classic office romance trope. boss at your office job + oldest son. high up in the food chain. inhuman, cold, and popular for being handsome. tends to give you a hard time. nicknamed office demon. son of a rich conglomerate. you drink too much at a work dinner and complain about your lack of sex life which is how you start having sex. courts you seriously but you pretend not to notice. falls first. introduces you to his granny who took care of him.

barou shouhei - josei romance, scary guy who works in the tiny town you've just moved to after nearly dying from overwork in the city. extremely gruff when talking and generally intimidating. you warm up to him gradually after seeing how he interacts with the elderly. works in an old business that's gone through his entire family. stayed behind to work so he could support his sister through college. helps you find your passions again. more heavy on the romance than the smut. you fuck after a festival and he sees you in yukata. gets along with your family

shidou ryusei - josei romance, strangers to lovers. classic "hookup" after a really really bad break-up completely drunk. wake up next to him and he doesn't let you leave. you can't remember what happened so you're forced to endure his insane company. you later find out you didn't have sex that night but instead you blabbed about your ex and threw up all over yourself which is why you were both naked. also realize you don't know anything about him. realize he's weirdly considerate albeit kind of terrifying. only has sex once you realize that. only marathon sex until you crawl away. works as a stylist. classic "fall for me already," line when you're asleep.

oliver aiku - josei romance, exes to lovers. bad break up in highschool to meeting again. a client of your workplace. pushy and worse than you remember. end up sleeping with him after a lot of arguing and work together as ususal. extremely messy relationship and hatefucking that feels too intimate. only get together once he's about to leave again. did not fall out of love you. bad personality but romantic after the fact. lets you yell at him as often as you need. self-aware that he sucks but charming.

SHORT BUT HONORABLE MENTIONS

otoya eita - shoujo romance, school player you ask to fake date you to get your ex off of your case in exchange for tutoring. takes it up cause he thinks you're cute and falls for you seriously. has to work hard to chase you because of his reputation

karasu tabito - shoujo romance, friend of the guy you're actually crushing on. stays on the sidelines while you pine for his friend and picks up the pieces when you get you're heart broken. insanely nice to you while dating despite being a huge jackass as friends.

yukimiya kenyu - josei romance, arranged marriage partner per family request you're reluctant to meet. extremely pleasant to you and objectively a good man. you mostly refuse him on principle but he melts your heart slowly and treats you very well. you don't marry for a while tho. breaks his premarital sex rule wanting to make you feel good.

[thirstydemisexual]

Blood path || Jason Todd x vampire!reader

Prologue

divider by: @sister-lucifer

PSA: the povs will switch from second to third person as convenient. also I'm writing this as I go so yeah the pacing between the parts hopefully will be coherent

warnings: 18+ content, mention of r4pe, blood, a p3do getting what the fuck he deserves, (and bad grammar)

I've made mistakes, Lord struck me down Caught in a landslide, lost underground I hear them gates, swing open loud Come close to midnight, hell fade me down - Used To The Darkness by Des Rocs

The night was young. As the last shades of orange had just dissipated in the sky, Gotham prepared itself as their usual over abundance of criminals took to the streets. Some of them tho, were busy browsing on the internet, unlucky them.

Phil, 38, child predator who escaped Arkham a couple weeks prior, sneaking away as the Bat and the other heroes took care of the bigger fishes, was browsing on the dark web, looking on his phone at his favorite source of inappropriate child videos with a fist down his pants.

The abandoned building in which he resided, which was once an apartment complex before a villain attack, was located in a rather well populated zone of Gotham. Only two streets down from The Wayne foundation preschool.

Unlucky for him, his connection wasn't the most secure. Even a high schooler with basic computer science knowledge would have been able to dox him.

The dumb fuck didn't even try locking the door, not like it had a functional lock to begin with. But non the less, she still wouldn't be stopped by a mere lock as that men's refuge wasn't his home, thus the threshold didn't bound her. She was able to sneak into the premises without as much as a sound.

She was hungry and her face was morphed into an inhuman shape.

He doesn't even have time to scream or fight as her fangs sinks in his neck, tearing his carotid artery. Long claws shredding up the skin on his forearms as he tries to reach to stop his attacker. He stops squirming in seconds as she feasts on his blood, draining him in mere moments.

After she's done she quickly leaves the building, ready to go home and wash her hands and mouth throughly as just the mere thought of having touched that individual, let alone feeding from him, in her post feeding shame(and because of than mans nature) made her regret her choice of feeding.

Although she would never regret ridding the world of scum like him.

It was a weirdly sunny day in Gotham, Jason Todd noticed as he turned off the engine of his motorcycle after parking in the Gotham University parking lot.

Last night patrol had took a tool on him, and he was more exhausted than normal. He threw his book bag on his shoulder before entering the building, toward his first class of the day.

Jason normally quite enjoyed his Modern Literature class, but today all he wanted to do was crush on his bed at his safe house and sleep away until patrol hour came.

He sat down in one of the last rows in the room and crossed his arms on the desk before laying his head down and closing his eyes, he couldn't wait for the day to be over.

"Slept bad?" a familiar voice came from his side. Jason lifted his head up, a little smile at the realization of who it was.

"You could say that" His eyes didn't leave you as you sat down next to him and started to get your stuff ready for class.

"You could have skipped class today Jay, you seem way too tired to be here"

"And miss the chance to have our daily banter, no way miss" he replied, smirk on his face. You couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"Seriously Jay, you can't keep coming to class looking like a zombie"

well technically I am a living dead so its not that out of character for me, thought Jason but didn't voice it out to her.

"I'll take a nap between classes alright? Come on, don't act like you wouldn't miss me if I were to go back home"

"You're incorrigible Todd"

"I don't hear you denying my claim" he kept smirking at you, you shushed him as the professor started class.

"Just rest your eyes, I'll give you my notes later" he chuckled a bit as he put his head down on the desk again,

"You'd be a light saver sweetheart"

If you could blush, the nickname would have done it. You tried to stay concentrated but your gaze would often stray onto Jason's figure, slumped over the deck, neck slightly exposed.

Looking so appetizing

You mentally slap yourself as you divert your eyes. That is Jason, one of your only friends NOT a charcuterie board.

You took a deep breath and tried to calm down. You didn't know why but even after feeding the thought and sight of Jason Todd just riled you up, hunger rising through your undead body and plaguing your mind.

Hopefully you'll keep being able to control yourself around him.

You have to

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[anastaaaaaaasia]

The First Queen

Aegon II Targaryen x niece!Reader

Previous chapter

Second Chapter

Mother always says that the princess should not leave her chambers after midnight. No, it’s not because you are a girl and defenseless in front of this world. Your brothers hear the same thing. Rhaenyra explained to the three of you that the castle is full of people with different thoughts and they are not always pure and noble. You didn't fully understand her words, but you hoped to make sense of her words at a later age.

Also, my mother always said in secret that girls should not rely on men in all matters. You weren't a damsel in distress, you have the blood of a dragon in you.

Therefore, when the master did not help you find the book with Helaena, you decided to find it yourself, under the cover of darkness, when the old grumpy warden was not around.

Now only the pale flicker of the moon and a lonely burning candle, which you hid prudently, illuminate your chambers. You tried your best not to fall asleep ahead of time, by the way, it wasn’t as difficult as you thought before. The Red Keep was crowded with guests, noble lords and ladies, knights from all over the Seven Kingdoms and servants always bustling about. So the constant sound of someone's footsteps, hoarse voices and muffled chuckles tore you out of sleep and drove away dreams for a week.

There really was a reason. The day after tomorrow will be Helaena’s seventh birthday and in her honor your grandfather organized a tournament. The holiday will last seven days and seven nights. The same week also included a holiday in honor of the mother, one of the seven. Knowing Queen Alicenta's religiosity, the entire royal family will take part in this. You have never been particularly religious, but if it is necessary, you will do it. Maybe it really was important to her.

Your relationship with the queen was simple. You interacted with all her children quite well. Together we attended classes with Septa, learned High Valyrian, and went to the dragon pit. Your eggs with Aemond never hatched. You handled it better than Aemond. Therefore, the prince began to skip dragon control lessons more often and paid more attention to sword control. Sometimes you would run away with him and even make him a pinky promise that he would teach you some exercises later.

The sudden noise of the passage opening brought you out of your thoughts. You turned towards the source of the noise and saw Aemond with a candelabra in his hands, standing in a secret passage. You accidentally found out about this when you were mindlessly poking at the ornaments on a carved cabinet. Now the passage seemed best suited for your little scam.

You threw your robe over your nightie and grabbed your own candle. Turning to Aemond, you smiled and told him “Good night” “Good night,” he replied and you involuntarily began to giggle, trying not to make too much noise. Otherwise, you won’t be able to explain to your guard why a six-year-old prince is in your room in the middle of the night.

You carefully walked down the aisles towards Helaena's room. Each of you had your own goal that you wanted to achieve that night. But they all led you to one place, the royal library. It turns out that books cannot be taken into the room. Absurd, you thought then. Who is the royal library for then, if not for the royal family?

Aemond wanted a book about the history of Westeros before the beginning of the Targaryen reign, which the maester did not give him, citing the prince's young age. He complained that the book was missing a page about Queen Nymeria and her fleet. It was brazenly torn out. “Barbarians,” you told him then, but remembered this idea as a plan B if something went wrong.

Helaena was looking for something about her insects, some rare butterflies. She wanted to see the drawings and make her own book, filling it with new notes and observations.

You, the organizer of this illegal raid, wanted to find a book about the language of flowers. Long ago, Septa said that every flower carries a sacred meaning. This memory flashed in your mind when you heard about the organized tournament. For almost two weeks you persuaded your mothers, Princess Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent, to let you make wreaths. Favor to your knight. You were sure that someone would definitely ask for your favor. When persuasion did not work on your mothers, explaining the refusals by your young age. You have decided to choose a path that will definitely lead you to success. You went to King Viserys.

He listened to your request, even your argument, and laughed good-naturedly, saying that nothing in this world comes easy. You looked at each other with Helaena and mentally agreed that you would do anything to give your wreaths. Viserys asked for some help with a model of Old Valyria. He taught you how to carve the shapes and you added some details, truly enjoying your time with him. Your aunt made a small figurine of a butterfly and placed it on one of the temples, and with the help of an assistant, you cut out a horse with a knight and placed it on one of the streets of the model. You have received permission.

When a couple of days later you visited the king’s chambers again, you noticed that the figures remained in their places and smiled.

Now you and Aemond were approaching Helaena’s chambers. You carefully opened the secret passage and the girl ran into you with hugs. You hugged her back with one free arm.

“I thought you wouldn’t come already,” said Helaena. The poor princess walked around the room in circles to drive away sleep.

“But now we are here,” said Aemond and hugged his sister too

The three of you walked down the halls towards the library. It was a dark, dusty room, spiders weaved their webs in the corners of the walls, but quickly ran away when you approached with candles. After 10 minutes of wandering through narrow corridors, Aemond said.

“We are almost here, we need to push on this partition”

You gently pressed, but nothing happened. Then you hit her with all your might, and the door opened, showing you an empty library.

“Welcome,” you said with a smile, pleased with your success against the door. Harwin was right, sometimes you need strength, not cunning plans.

The three of you walked inside and each started looking for the right book. After looking through three bookcases, you didn’t find the one you needed. You were already frowning, but you weren’t ready to admit defeat. You want to find this damn book and you will find it. Continuing to look for the thing that had already been cursed five times, you did not notice Aemond behind you.

“Need help?” He asked.

You suddenly jumped and hit your hand on the shelf. Turning around, you saw Aemond standing with that very book. It was big, you didn't expect it.

“I found it on the table” He said. Of course, the table. How could you not look there? Of course, it’s good to punish yourself, but the main thing is that, even with the help of your friend, you had the book.

“Thank you, you really know this place like the back of your hand,” you said and hugged your friend. He chuckled slightly and handed you the book. There was a whole collection of essays about various plants. After flipping through the book, you realized that you only needed 8 pages You didn’t want to carry this Talmud with your fragile hands, and suddenly an idea struck you. Plan B.

“May the seven and the old master forgive me,” you said and looking at your friends who were already standing with their books, you began to tear out pages. Aemond clearly did not approve of this, but did not say anything. Heileina giggled quietly into her fist, you smiled at her. Suddenly you heard the sounds of metal armor and someone's heavy footsteps. You quickly tore out the remaining pages. Your relatives were already standing at the secret passage.

Suddenly the door began to open, and having thought through all the options, you waved to your friends to go ahead and close the passage. Your nightie and robe didn't have pockets, so you couldn't think of anything better to do than stuff the sheets between your nightie and your body. A ribbon around your waist would prevent them from falling, and this way you won’t compromise yourself with the book you ruined. No evidence, no accusation. Really?

In addition, the idea of hiding such desirable sheets in the chest area did not come out of nowhere. You were certainly a smart girl for your age. But one day the day before, while walking along the corridors of the castle, you heard the head maid telling her subordinate that the main strength of women is between the legs and in the chest. Somewhere in the depths of your soul, you knew that this was not exactly what you were thinking about when you hid your trophy, but it helped. Perhaps you will ask your mother later the real meaning of that phrase.

“Princess?,” a male voice called out to you. You snapped out of your thoughts and looked at the figure in the doorway. You breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that it was none other than Ser Harwin. “What are you doing here at this late hour?” he inquired and approached you, crouching down to be on the same level with you.

You couldn’t say and just blinked your eyes, smiling guiltily.

“How about you tell me the reasons for your night on the way to your room?” suggested Harwin. You energetically waved your head and you began to walk to your room.

“I was looking for a book about the language of flowers,” you admitted, blushing a little. Harwin arched an eyebrow.

"At midnight? This is probably really an urgent matter.”

“Yes,” you screamed slightly. “There will soon be a tournament in honor of Helaena and with the permission of the king, she and I can give favor to the knight, if he asks, of course,” you said the last words a little hesitantly and confusedly. You didn’t know why, but you always trusted him. His kind eyes always calm you down, and his smell… he smells like home, even now he smelled of flowers, aroma of oils and candles. He smelled like your mother, maybe that’s why you always felt calm with him and you could tell about all your thoughts, even the most secret ones.

“I'm more than sure everyone will be flattered by the attention from you, princess.” He smiled.

“You are very kind to me Ser Harwin, I hope so too.”

“But why did you still go looking for information at night?”

“The Old Meister didn't give me the book, so I decided to watch it when he wasn't around,” you admitted awkwardly. You had already walked most of the way to your room and suddenly a single leaf rustled out from under your nightgown and landed on the stone floor lock.Harwin noticed this and grinned.

“I see this is the information you were looking for?” he picked up the piece of paper and ran his gaze over it. “You don’t have to ruin the books, princess.” He said softly.

“It was necessary, otherwise I wouldn’t understand what flowers look like,” you sighed and lowered your gaze to the floor. You were ashamed. But not because you ruined the book, but because Harwin caught you with the evidence. “Please don't tell mom about this,” you begged him.

“It will be our little secret if you promise me that you will return the sheets to the book after the tournament,” he smiled softly and you shook your head, accepting the offer.

You were already standing outside your room when he said “Good night, princess.” And I’m more than sure that many knights will be happy to receive your favor,” he smiled and walked further down the corridor. You went to bed with a smile, thinking that tomorrow would be a wonderful day.

Two hours. You spent two hours with Helaena to find all the necessary flowers. The bright sun rose above the Red Castle. You were wandering around the royal garden to get the necessary plants for your wreaths. Or to be more precise, mostly for yours. When Helaena limited herself to one wreath, you wanted to make several. For the knight, for his brother and his loved ones.

After your grandfather allowed you to make a favour, your mother explained the rules to you. You can only give one publicly during the tournament, the knight must ask for it himself, and then you will throw the wreath on his spear. In public. Behind the doors, you just wanted to please your loved ones and friends, so you did even more.

Now you and Helaena were sitting in the garden, you were digging in the flowerbed, but for different reasons. Helaena collected all the flowers and was now looking for insects to study them. You tried to pull out the flower as carefully as possible, after several unsuccessful attempts. Aemond was sitting under a tree next to you, reading a book about the history of Westeros. You talked about different things from time to time.

“What was the name of Visenya's dragon again?” asked Helaena. She was so busy catching the centipede that she missed half the words.

“Vhagar, she is the biggest dragon in the world,” Aemond responded admiringly.

“Yes, Aunt Leina flies it now,” you added. It was true. At the age of 15, your aunt tamed the oldest and largest dragon alive. Now she and Damon live overseas and rarely appear. The last time they were when you were three years old. Now they won't even come for Helaena's birthday. You thought that if they showed up, you would also make Damon a wreath.

“How is your training with the Aemond sword?” you asked while weaving the first wreath. It was intended specifically for Aemond, but he was not yet aware of it. You chose small branches of thuja for him as a sign of eternal friendship, an orchid in honor of his diligence and perseverance in various matters, and a bell as a sign of gratitude for everything he did for you.

“Okay, Ser Criston really pays me a lot of attention and even helps me train extra, he said that I would be an excellent warrior,” Aemond said with a little pride and sparkles in his eyes. You were happy for your friend, really.

Criston Cole was the queen's close friend and protector. You often watched them during training. Even though Criston treated your brothers and you somewhat coldly, it never became personal. You thought it would be nice to make Criston a wreath as a thank you for training with Aemond. If your friend is happy, then you are happy. Stockrose buds signified gratitude, thistles meant nobility and epigea in honor of best wishes. As you were finishing the second wreath, Ser Harwin approached.

“Can I have a word with you, princess?” he asked. You smiled and brushed off the skirt of your dress and walked up to him.

“What is it, Ser Harwin?”

“Remember yesterday’s conversation?” he began. You thought he was talking about a book and you abruptly interrupted him.

“I’ll return it, I promise, but for now I need the sheets,” you jabbered. He just grinned.

“No, I’m not talking about that, I trust you and will keep your secret. I'm talking about the tournament and favour. I wanted you to be the first to know about this. I will be performing at the tournament tomorrow and would be very happy if one princess gave me a wreath.” He looked at you tenderly. You smiled and nodded your head vigorously.

“I will make the best wreath in all of Westeros for you, Ser Harwin.”

“I have no doubt” and after that he left, and you began to sort through the bouquet of flowers in search of the right ones. You had a knight who would ask for your attention. You were happy, and when you said that you would do the best, you weren’t lying. You do.

An idea instantly appeared in your head. A wreath of green, white, red and blue plants, like the color of the coat of arms of his house. Blue bells as a sign of gratitude, white clover as a symbol of his oath and devotion to your family, green coreopsis as a tribute to all the joy he helps you experience. And the final plant, a red rose as a symbol of platonic and sincere love. The book said that every red flower meant love, so there was no problem with that.

While Helaena continued to search for new centipede specimens for her collection, Aemond went off to practice with the sword. You finished the fourth and fifth wreath, for your older brother Jace and dad. They were similar, they had blue violets as a symbol of loyalty, a few branches of straw as a sign of unity and red and yellow roses in honor of all the joyful moments you experienced together.

Satisfied with your work, you lay down on your back and looked at the blue cloudless sky. Only after closing your eyes for a moment in bliss did you realize that you had forgotten something. The answer came unexpectedly and quite unusually. Suddenly the sun was covered with something, and before you could open your eyes you heard a dragon’s roar. The body of a small golden dragon rushed over the garden. Sunfyre. His body shone under the rays, and his pinkish wings flapped vigorously, holding the dragon and his rider in the skies. How could you forget? You didn't make a wreath for Aegon. For the Sunfyre Rider and your beloved uncle.

He is now 10 and you are 6. Recently, you began to move away and there were no longer the usual walks in the garden or playing together. He spent more and more time in the dragonpit with his dragon. And you, not having a winged lizard, were doing other things with Aemond. Sometimes you still met in class and Aegon spoke in fascination about his winged friend. He grew fast enough that he can now lift his rider into the skies and fly over King's Landing.

Despite the fact that you began to communicate less directly, you still watched him furtively. I heard him laugh as he talked to Jace. How he encouraged Luke to go to his dragon, how he looked at the other daughters of noble lords during holidays and festivals. You wanted to be in their place, you wanted him to dance and laugh with you.

And you felt something, something light, but at the same time oppressive. You then described the symptoms to your mother and she laughed and replied that it was falling in love. You remembered this, but never said the name of your crush, answering simply, “Every princess and lady should have her own secrets.”

After sorting through the pages from the book about the language of flowers, you chose two flowers that would be best suited for your final wreath. White and purple lilac. Symbols of first love and purity of thoughts. You remembered seeing these flowers in one of the flower beds nearby. You and Helaena walked through the garden twice until you found that very place.

“Damn flowers, I can’t pick them out,” you said desperately and sighed. You wanted to maintain the maximum length of the stem to make the wreath more luxurious.

“Let’s dig a little and you can easily pull out the flower even by the roots,” Helaena said casually. After spending the day in the garden, you were already covered in dirt and plant sap, your dresses were ruined and your hands were dirty. There was nothing to lose. You started to dig up the ground when Helaena exclaimed joyfully

“The Dornish centipede! I want it!," after these words, she looked at you and you saw her admiration and genuine delight. After your nod, you began hunting for the insect. It crawled underground and crawled back out at the other end of the flowerbed. Three minutes later, the flowerbed was hopeless spoiled, and you laughed loudly, holding the trophy in your hands.

Helaena looked at the centipede in fascination, and you collected the flowers that were already lying. Shaking off the dirt for the sake of appearance, you walked into the castle laughing. You decided not to push your luck and escape from the scene of the crime, even though you were princesses, you didn’t want to meet the stern faces of your mothers.

When you entered the room, you finished the wreath, but something was missing. You looked around and went to the closet, opening it you pulled out the ribbon from the corset. It was as golden as Sunfyre. You carefully wove it into the flowers and smiled looking at all your work.

This day began for you with loud cheers and singing songs in the corridors of the castle. This cacophony of sounds helped you wake up early in the morning and you couldn’t fall back to sleep. After getting dressed with the help of the maids, you were escorted to your parents’ room. Your family was already here. Your mother, Princess Rhaenyra, was already sitting at the table, carefully wiping the cheeks of your younger brother Luke. He was a restless boy, with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes whenever something caught his attention. Unruly curls curled in different directions, no matter how much the maids tried to style them.

Opposite them sat Laenor, who was enthusiastically telling Jace something. From the fragments of sentences you were able to understand that it was about Triarchy. Your dad took part in those battles and you have already heard stories, including from your grandfather, Corlis. Despite being completely sure that Jace had already heard about this, he still listened in fascination, resting his chin on his hand. You laughed a little at that. He looked like a girl in love, maybe even like you when you looked at Aegon. But you will never admit it.

“What makes you laugh so much, sister?” Jace asked. Your dear brother got drunk and you exchanged glances with Luke.

“Nothing, Jacaerys,” you said his name deliberately louder and smiled innocently, batting your eyes innocently a couple of times.

“Don't call me by my full name,” he sighed loudly.

“Don't like your full name, Jacaerys? ” Luke said and laughed after. You chuckled too while Jace frowned even more. Your mom told you how Jace desperately tried to teach you to say his name and after that you never missed a single opportunity to hurt him. Luke later joined in, but it never escalated into bullying or bullying. You loved each other, your brothers were your friends and your support.

“Okay, calm down kids, let’s start eating already,” your father said and looked at each other with your mother, they both grinned. Breakfast began and, as usual, there was a lot of talking and laughter. Laenor will be participating in the tournament today and he told you in secret that he will ask your mother for favor while she is not listening. You giggled slightly. After breakfast, you approached your father as he stood on the balcony with a glass of wine.

“Father, I have something for you,” you began, moving closer to him.

“And what is this?,” you handed him the wreath and smiled slightly.

“You said that you would ask mom for a wreath, but I wanted to do something for you too,” he was slightly surprised and examined the wreath. The flowers were neatly woven and the ribbons shimmered in the light.

“Thank you, this is beautiful. Will you put it on me?” he squatted down and you chuckled as you placed the wreath on his head. He hugged you and you buried yourself in his chest. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. You stood there for a few minutes while he lightly patted your head. You didn’t know, but at that moment Rhaenyra was looking at you from behind the curtain and smiling warmly. She has a family that understands each other, for her this was the main thing in this life.

You caught up with your brother in the corridor while he was walking to his room.

“Jacaerys!” you exclaimed and laughed. You ran after him and when you caught up, you tried to catch your breath. He just playfully rolled his eyes and chuckled.

“Don't be like the old master, Jace.”

“Oh, you know my name” and after that you laughed together. The maids walked past you and also smiled slightly.

“Of course I know, Jacaerys. Even though you can’t participate in tournaments yet, I want to give you a wreath, I’m more than sure you will become a good knight and protect our family on Vermax,” you babbled joyfully and handed him the wreath. He was slightly surprised and thanked you afterwards. “It looks like the wreath I gave my father,” you didn’t notice, but he frowned slightly at the word “father.” Jace quickly changed the subject.

“I'm lucky to have such siblings,” he said.

“I’m glad too, maybe in the future we will have more brothers or sisters.”

“Why do we need more? We feel so good”

“Well, the queen has 4 children.”

“Do you think we will have another sibling?”

“Oh, I'm pretty sure of that,” you laughed and after saying goodbye to your brother, you ran to the other wing of the castle to find Aemond. And Jace remained standing in the middle of the corridor and wondered if you needed this family extension.

You found Aemond in the library. He was already reading another book, about Ancient Valyria. You were sure that it belonged to your grandfather, Viserys I. Based on it, he built his model of the city; you noticed this book back on the day when, together with Helaena, they asked for permission to bypass the decision of their mothers.

“I knew I’d find you here,” you smiled sincerely at your friend. Aemond looked away from the book and met yours. While you were talking to each other, you managed to hide the sheets and return them to their rightful original form. place, almost

“Were you looking for me?” His eyebrows were slightly knitted and his eyes looked interested. Aemond's gaze went down to your hands, which were holding a wreath of orchids and bells. “Are you so excited about the tournament that you’ll be wearing a wreath with you all day?” he joked lightly and your cheeks turned purple. Did you really have some kind of obsession? Perhaps, but you won't admit it.

“No, to be honest this is for you”

"For me?" his eyebrows shot up in surprise, and you could see interest and desire in his eyes.

"Yes for you." You spoke with confidence and held it out. Aemond looked at your gift for a minute, felt the thuja branches and smelled the aroma of the flowers. He slowly looked up at you.

“But I’m not a warrior, I don’t even have a dragon.” He spoke slowly, hesitantly, and even confusedly in some places. You knew about his complexes, you had them too. But now was the time to take care of Aemond and not of himself.

“But I believe, no, I know that one day you will have a dragon, just the way you want. And I doubt that you are not a warrior. You already hold a sword better than my brothers and even Aegon.” You remembered that one time Aemond defeated his older brother and Aegon ended up falling into a puddle. You will forever remember his wet hair and displeased expression on his face. But even like that, you still liked him. You smiled at the memories.

Aemond at that moment continued to look at the wreath until you took it from his hands. With an innocent smile, you placed the tangle of flowers on his head and giggled. He smiled and hugged you tightly, saying “Thank you.”

You hugged for a few minutes until Queen Alicenta walked in. You didn’t hear the sound of footsteps or the sound of a door opening. She was pleased to see her son happy, but it hurt that happiness was given to him by Rhaenyra’s child.

After waiting a couple of minutes, she coughed quietly to attract attention. You and Aemond abruptly pulled away from each other and looked at Alicent. "My queen." You said with a polite smile. Despite being close to her children, you still felt uncomfortable in her presence. You felt the tension within your family, your home.

The Red Keep was buzzing with rumors inside, they spread faster than the fires in the Royal Forest. Despite your young age, you weren't stupid. You understood that the queen’s glances towards your mother, comments about her marriage to your father and disapproving glances from the entire Hightower family when they came to the capital were by no means out of great love. You understood, but you still can’t find the roots of all this confrontation until now.

You heard rumors that Queen Alicenta, your adopted grandmother, wore a green dress to your parents' wedding. You thought about this for a long time, but unsuccessfully found answers to your questions. They multiplied at breakneck speed. Then, during your lesson with the septa, you learned that the color of the Hightower came from the light of the lighthouse in Oldtown. It glowed green when the Hightower troops gathered for war. But who did she fight with on her wedding day? And the more important question is, is this war still ongoing?

“Aemond, I think it’s time to start getting ready for the tournament. Y/N, I think your mom is looking for you too.” She said it politely. You realized that you were required to leave and therefore, with a final nod towards Aemond, you headed to your room.

You walked to your room and didn’t even suspect that the queen was watching you with a heavy gaze. An hour later you were already sitting on the royal stand. On the left side sat your dear friend Helaena, and on the right was Aegon. Your wreaths lay on the pedestal and you constantly giggled in anticipation of the start of the tournament. You vigorously clapped for each knight that was introduced while Aegon sat with a straight face.

“Why are you all so excited? It's just a tournament.” Aegon leaned over and asked you with some indignation.

“Because today Helaena and I will give favor to the knights for the first time,” you said casually and smiled. This was a small victory for you, you are one step closer to being considered adult girls. Aegon snorted and you looked at him again, the corners of your lips slowly began to droop, “What?”

“This is stupid,” the prince said with a grin, “Most knights throw away these things as soon as the tournament ends.”

Meanwhile, your father and a knight from the House of Baratheon were already galloping on horseback on the field. The bright sound of horse hooves drowned out everything around and forced you and Aegon to lean closer to each other to hear the words.

“And so what, I’ll at least give the knight a favor and he’ll wear it with pride during the battle.” you said defensively. You were absolutely not prepared for the fact that your secret object of affection was making fun of your desires.

“The wreath has no effect on anything, I’m more than sure that your knight will lose.” Aegon grinned, and you were already seething inside. It was unpleasant, it was painful. You pointedly turned to him and crossed your arms over your chest.

“At least my knight will have a wreath, and you won’t.” You whispered and went back to watching the game. Aegon wanted to say something else, but at that moment the next pair of contestants were announced. Ser Harwin and Ser Criston. You haven’t had time to give the latter a wreath yet, but you promised yourself to do it after the tournament. Both knights rode up to your bed.

“Queen, I would like to ask for your favor and give me your favor.” Criston said, Alicenta walked up without further ado and threw a wreath on his spear with a slight smile. You were worried because you knew you were next. Helaena has already given her wreath to her maternal uncle.

“Princess Y/N, today I would like to fight for your honor. Will you do me this honor?” Harwin smiled and bowed, a smile appearing on your face again. You stood up from your seat and looked at your mom. He nodded lightly in approval and you carefully placed the wreath on his spear.

“May the gods be favorable to you, Ser Harwin!” You smiled and the court was filled with applause. You truly were a ray of light in this castle.

“Your knight will lose,” Aegon continued to tease you. Aemond, hearing your conversation, just sighed heavily. You ignored the eldest prince as best you could. Why are boys always like this?

This round of the tournament was long, over and over again their spears broke, their horses roared as if on a battlefield. And then something happened that no one expected. They started fighting on the ground. It was quite a fierce fight. Few people knew, but at that moment Criston Cole, the queen's loyal defender, provoked Ser Harwin not only with weapons, but also with words.

Suddenly the entire court fell silent. You returned your gaze to the field, Harwin lay in terrible agony, the maesters were already running to his body. Criston stood, but his appearance was no better. Broken lips, blood and sweat ran down his dark hair. Your knight was carried away by servants, it was obvious that he was very seriously wounded. And you were wounded the next second.

“I told you your knight would lose. And the wreaths are of no use here; it didn’t help Harwin at all.” Aegon said with a smirk and you felt a burning resentment, tears gradually began to form in the corners of your eyes. You slowly looked up at him.

“That means you won’t get your wreath.” You said through clenched teeth and apologized and ran to your chambers. You cried in the room for a couple of hours. This day should have been one of the happiest in your young life, but in fact it turned into the most terrible. With the help of your handmaidens, you learned that Ser Harwin had injured ribs. And you began to cry even more, but the tears gradually subsided and a different feeling came. Anger.

You knew that at court you cannot directly express your feelings. Therefore, grabbing the last two wreaths, you walked with a firm gait towards Queen Alicenta’s chambers. You knew you'd find him there. And you were right. Seeing his face, you clutched the wreath that was intended for him, for Cole.

“I thought you were a noble man.” You said it again through clenched teeth and looked at him with a look full of hatred. Throwing a wreath at him, you hastened to retire to the garden, where you can be alone. Only now, in addition to the previous flowers, there was a hastily and carelessly woven orange lily.

“Oh, hatred and disgust,” said Larys. Cole, who had previously not understood anything that had happened, just looked at another close associate of the queen with incomprehension.

"What?"

“The orange lily is a sign of hatred and disgust, the princess knows how to express her indignation skillfully, albeit openly,” Larys chuckled.

At this moment, you were already sitting under the tree and began to tear small petals from the purple lilac, from the sign of your first love. You weren’t crying anymore, but there was still a pain in your chest. You sat in the garden, lost in your thoughts until sunset. The sun slowly set behind the horizon and the dark orange rays dimly illuminated everything around. You sighed and took one last look at the half-destroyed wreath and went back to your room.

Little did you know that at that moment Aegon was watching you from the shadows. The prince carefully picked up the wreath of purple and white lilacs that were so similar to his eyes and hair and sighed. He really messed up this time. Why did he even listen to the older guys who said that in order to attract a girl’s attention you need to tease her in every possible way and call her names. Why did he even listen to them? He felt so stupid. But one thought never left his head, he must fix this. Even though his pride and shame will prevent him from doing it directly, he must find a way.

The next morning, you found a wreath of white calla lilies and red tulips under your door. There was no note or clue as to who it was from. But after a night of more tears, you smiled for the first time. Today was a holiday in honor of Mother. And the wreath went perfectly with your dress in Targaryen colors.

Meanwhile, when the queen woke up her eldest son, she saw a pile of destroyed flowers that he was trying to hide in his closet. She didn't understand anything, but decided not to ask. She also did not know that under the pile of flowers lay carelessly torn sheets where it was written “King Jaehaerys presented his future wife with a simple but meaningful gift. Alysanne held a large bouquet of white callas as a symbol of respect and admiration, and the small buds of red tulips decorating the bouquet spoke of the feelings of the future king, of his love for her.”

Later, at the service at the Temple of the Seven, you appeared with a wreath on your head. You smiled and happily told Aemond about your morning discovery. Aegon stood at a distance, he smiled and constantly looked in your direction. You will be his Alysanne, even if it takes more time. He will no longer listen to other people's advice, not in matters that concern you.

Queen Alicent was deeply immersed in ceremony and celebration. But when she saw you, something clicked in her. She saw your head decoration and, having carried out all the logical chains, she just grinned.

The only people who were unhappy on Mother's Day were the gardeners of the royal garden. Next to one destroyed flowerbed, a second one appeared. Now the callas will not sprout here for a long time.

Taglist: @blurpleuni-squid

Note:

if you want to be tagged in this series, please write in the comments)

All this time I was thinking about what details I wanted to add to this series and breaking down the ideas into chapters. So far, according to preliminary estimates, there will be about 25 chapters. The next third chapter will be the last, which tells about the relatively carefree childhood of the main characters. The fourth chapter will be devoted to Driftmark and the beginning of active actions between the reader and Aegon)

Аnd honestly, I don't like writing warnings because there might be spoilers for the entire chapter:) Therefore, I think it necessary to say that the story will be a kind of mix of the serial and book versions.

[bucketslutz]

Don't Be Late (Logan Howlett/Fem mutant reader)

Chapter 1

(A/N): btw this takes place in an alternate universe where the x men as a team don't really exist, but the members and mutants obviously still do. readers powers are similar to atom eve from invincible, if you haven't seen that show i highly recommend it, but if not, you don't really need to know any of that to understand readers powers, they'll be explained in more detail later on.

Summary: You've spent your entire academic career trying to hide who you really are, your goal to end up working in a small museum or archive and live the rest of your life going unnoticed. The first day of grad school you meet someone that sparks something deep inside you that you never thought existed. Your history professor, Logan, makes you feel things you've never felt from someone before. Will you keep hiding your feelings, or will you get too close and risk him knowing who you really are?

Warnings: 18+!! explicit sexual content, minors DNI!! pls!!! oral (fem recieving), logan being a munch lowk, oral on the couch, teasing, dirty talking, cursing, logan being an asshole professor, no use of Y/N.

Word Count: 3,208

You anxiously rub your forehead as you struggle to find parking on campus, circling and circling the lot. Finally, someone pulls out and you turn in aggressively, someone in front of you flips you off, probably eyeing the same spot. You’re late. Very late. You have an American Civil War class, it’s an advanced level, with a professor whose name you cannot remember for the life of you. You’ve been preoccupied this summer, and time escaped you before you got the chance to research his credentials. It’s your first day of grad school and you’re late. A long commute, a new college, and shitty parking. You hope to god the professor doesn’t care or notice when you slip in late, as you carry a specific kind of disdain for drawing attention to yourself.

You were 13 when you first noticed something was wrong, walking home alone from school when a stranger tried to pin you down and do god knows what to you, until your eyes glowed a deep fuchsia and you threw him across the alley with a strength you didn’t even know you had. Your veins began glowing the same pink color and pulsating, scaring you shitless. You ran to the woods behind your house, avoiding your family for fear of harming them. With enough practice over the years, you’ve learned to control your abilities. Your eyes only glowing occasionally when you’re especially frustrated or angry. Sometimes even when you’re…taking care of some sexual urges. While you don’t know what causes these powers, you do know the general population’s feelings about mutants enough to understand that no one can know what you are. You don’t keep boyfriends for longer than 3 months, you don’t let friends become closer than you need them to be, and you don’t tell anyone what you are. You just want a normal life.

Your forehead is slick with sweat by the time you arrive at the history building, your breath heavy and labored, not from how fast you were walking to the building, but from anxiety, which is also the source of the excessive sweat on your brow. You cannot recall this courses class size, and you damn yourself for forgetting to check; not knowing if you can slip into the large class quietly or if everyone will be able to see you come in. This isn’t undergrad where people stumble in hungover with 10 minutes left of class, this is a graduate program where people go on to become masters in their fields of study. And you’re going to look like a fool in front of everyone. You approach the door to the classroom and can see through the window that it is, in fact, a small class. Fuck. There are maybe 15 people in there total. You hold your breath as you attempt to quietly push the door open, but it fails you with a loud, obnoxious creak. Every head snaps towards you, including the teacher, and you offer a meek smile to your classmates and turn your head towards the professor to issue a brief apology. You swallow hard when your eyes land on him. his tall frame is leaning against the white board, a little scary looking with muscles that bulge against his crossed arms, peaking out from under his rolled up sleeves. You’re surprised they’re visible even through his plaid button-up. His hair is fluffy, dark, as well as his beard…or actually, you should say mutton-chops, as that would be a more accurate descriptor. He glares at you, and you swear you’ve held his gaze for hours, but realistically it’s only been no more than a few seconds.

“Sorry,” you offer timidly.

The professor nods lightly, his jaw tense, and waves you off as he continues addressing the class. You attempt to quietly maneuver to an empty seat in the back, trying your hardest to not trip over your classmate’s bags and chairs. You feel like it takes forever to get to your seat, hoping no one pays too much attention to how clumsily you scoot past the chairs and over obstacles. You try and settle as quietly as possible, unzipping your shoulder bag and retrieving a pen to take notes. He’s still going over the syllabus, thank god.

“The only homework you’ll have is an essay, every week—every Friday—you have an essay due. Then every 3 weeks you’ll have an exam,” he instructs, rather nonchalantly. “And while I don’t give a shit if you waste your money and don’t come to class,” his eyes suddenly are fixed onto you, you swallow a lump of anxiety lodged in your throat as he continues, “The school cares a helluva lot more so, if you don’t mark your name down on the attendance sheet, you forget, you’re late, or whatever the hell, you’ll be absent. I’m not going back in and fixing shit.”

Noted. He turns his gaze back to the rest of the class and continues talking about the curriculum for the rest of the semester. you try to keep your head down as you scribble notes into your notebook, trying to look busy, when in reality you want to kick yourself in the face. You left your apartment too late, you didn’t anticipate the amount of traffic on the interstate, and you conveniently forgot how terrible parking is on college campuses. You look up to see the professor checking his wristwatch with a furrowed brow, like he’s considering something.

“Alright, that’s all i’ve got today, get out,” he commands, his gravelly voice showing slight indignation.

There’s a general look of confusion around the room at his abrupt dismissal with 45 minutes left of class. As people begin to shove their belongings in bags, you quickly get the memo as you collect your notebook and pen in your hands and stand up, ready to depart from this nightmare as soon as possible. But you’re the last in your row, shoved into a corner. the line of people in front of you have their chairs pushed back to the wall as they slowly collect themselves. It takes an obnoxiously long time for you to get out from behind the the long row of desks, even longer to leave the class as everyone shoves their way past you and out the door. Finally, you find an opening, but before your foot can even reach the threshold, there’s a strong grip on your arm. You turn your head to meet the gaze of your professor. Your heart skips a beat as he maintains eye contact briefly, before he hands you a piece of paper and lets go of your arm.

“Find your name, mark it,” he directs, causing you to scramble for the pen in your hands as you scan the paper for your name.

You try and offer a polite smile to the professor, but he remains stoic and unamused, making you feel even more uncomfortable. Once you find your name, you ungracefully set the paper against your flimsy notebook for structure, and scrawl a shaky check mark next to your name. You offer the paper back to him.

“Here, thank you, um, professor…” you trail off awkwardly, forgetting that you never actually checked what his name was. He takes the attendance sheet from you.

“Logan,” he answers.

“Ah, thank you professor Logan—”

“No,” he cuts you off with a wave of his hand, “just Logan.”

“Logan, right. thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says, his tone far from indicating the typical politeness of the statement, and rather literally cautioning you to never bring up this act of kindness again. And with that you turn to leave the class, unsure of why this gruff, sturdy, serious professor bended his own personal rules just for you. But no matter with that, you at least know you’ll never be late to his damn class again.

***

You pull into the driveway of your house with a sigh. It's late, the time you prefer to get home, so you can fully relax and use your powers in peace. Despite living in the middle of nowhere, you still fear someone will mistakenly pull into your driveway and catch you flying into your second story window or creating an apple from nothing. The lack of sound, except that of the chirping crickets and cicadas, puts you at ease. You release the tension in your shoulders and float off of the ground, propelling yourself to the patio on the second story of your house. You unlock the door with a flick of your wrist, the fuchsia energy encasing the doorknob and letting you into your bedroom, you then toss your things down onto the floor. An exhausted groan escapes your lips as you face plant onto your cool, soft bed. Not even coming up for air when you fling your arm up and slam the door shut with a pink, crystalline whoosh. You turn over to face the ceiling, your eyes fluttering shut within the comfort of your bed. Longing to get out of your stuffy jeans and bra, you trail your hands over your body and watch as your clothes dissipate into a pink flash while you manifest some boxer shorts and a loose t-shirt. Finally comfortable, you slide under the covers, wanting to sleep off one of the most stressful days you've had in a while. A morning full of classes, then 5 hours interning at the museum, before finally finishing off your day at the convenience store down the road working a 6 hour shift. While you can create most anything you want with your powers, you cannot create the full nights sleep that you most desperately need right now. 

As you drift, you think about how embarrassing of a morning you had. Stumbling into class like a fawn learning how to walk, Logan directly looking at you when speaking about attendance, Logan shoving the attendance sheet in your face so you mark yourself as present, Logan's strong arms and the way they looked with his sleeves rolled up. Logan's fluffy, dark hair and--No. Shut up. Don't think about that, he's your professor for god's sake. And, more importantly, an asshole. No amount of muscle or sheer sexiness will distract from that fact. You repeat this fact to yourself as you doze off, not wanting to give in to immature thoughts of attraction. Despite falling asleep to the negation of that attraction, your subconscious drifts somewhere you know you shouldn't physically go.

You're in Logan's office, your ass perched on the edge of his desk. Logan's back is to you, locking his door and drawing the blinds. He turns to you, his stance almost primal and animal-like, like he can't wait for the chance to devour you. The thought of that causes your arousal to swirl deep in your stomach. Logan saunters towards you, bearing his lower teeth like a predator ready to take their prey. Your breath hitches in anticipation as he gets closer, causing you to spread your legs, hoping the clear view of what lies beneath your skirt will draw him in closer. It seemingly works as he closes the distance between you two, his waist now flush against your lower stomach. Tingles shoot down your spine at the sudden contact, blood rushing down to your pussy. He pants as he brings his hands to your waist and strokes up and down the sides of your body, then achingly slow up your neck, then finally stopping at your chin. One hand creeps to the nape of your neck where he lays his palm flat while the other pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger. Your eyes flutter shut, anticipating that he's close to having his way with you. He holds you there for a beat, his face so tantalizingly close to yours that you can feel his breath against your skin. You whine gently when his lips teasingly graze your own. The fingers pinching your chin adjust slightly to grip your jaw instead, allowing him better control to tilt your head up towards him. His other hand, at the nape of your neck, travels upward allowing his fingers to gently rake through your hair until he roughly takes a fistful and tugs. A soft moan escapes your throat and you try to satiate the throbbing pressure between your legs by rubbing your thighs together. An amused huff leaves Logan's lips as he looks down at your squirming figure beneath him.

"You gonna be good for me, princess?" he asks in a low, gruff tone as the hand on your chin trails down the side of your neck before landing on your breast. He massages the flesh fervently, finding it harder to hide his own desperate arousal and need from you. You moan into his touch and arch your back into him, your pussy searching for more friction that Logan is expertly avoiding giving you by not allowing his pelvis to meet yours.

"Logan," you gasp.

"C'mon, baby," his voice soothes, like smooth velvet, "tell me you want it."

"I want it," you whisper, desperately seeking any sort of release.

"Good girl."

And with that, Logan removes the hand on your breast so he can aggressively hook an arm under your ass and easily hoist you up with one fell swoop. Your legs wrap around his waist and your arms around his neck, reveling the feel of his palm that covers your asscheek. With a growl Logan spins you around and throws you onto the couch in the corner of his office, barely allowing you a second to recover when he crawls on top of you and captures your lips with his own desperately. The kiss is aggressive and needy, tongues dancing together ungracefully, teeth clashing, hasty lip bites between kisses. His hips grind against yours roughly, causing you to hook both your feet around his ass to keep him there for as long as you can, desperately seeking more friction. His hands alternate with each other between grasping your breasts to gripping your face passionately. Without breaking the kiss, he hooks his arms under you and drives you further up the couch so your upper back lays against the armrest. You whine when his lips leave yours, but it's quickly replaced with a moan as his lips travel down your neck, chest, the stomach he exposes by lifting the hem of your shirt, biting the fabric at the waistband of your skirt. You squirm underneath him, anticipating what's gonna happen next as his face nestles between your legs. He licks, bites, sucks, and kisses the skin of your inner thighs, causing you to gasp with each harsh move of his mouth, before promptly melting into a moan when he alleviates his biting or sucking with a kiss or flick of his tongue. Your clit is throbbing, your pussy aching for him to get closer to your center. So he does. His tongue dances along the edge of your panties, not dipping much further into the fabric, his head alternating between each of your lips. You whine desperately as Logan's mouth hovers above your core, his hot breath teasing you further. He looks up at you and into your eyes as his mouth latches onto your thinly clothed pussy, causing you to squirm and moan underneath him, the already damp fabric from your arousal, getting further soaked from Logan's saliva.

"Logan," you whine fervently. "Please."

His mouth leaves your pussy, just barely hovering above it now.

"I gotta make you want it, princess, it's no fun unless you're begging for me to taste you," he breathed against your pussy, his voice low and syrupy. He quickly resumes the hold his mouth had on your pussy, making your back arch off the couch with a moan.

"Okay, I'm officially begging, please, Logan, please," you whimper, not sure how much longer you're able to take his teasing.

"Atta girl," he rasps against your pussy. Like nothing, his fingers hook around the fabric of your panties and he rips it off of you with an experienced strength, leaving your pussy now exposed to Logan, and your torn lace panties on the floor.

"So wet for me, huh?" Logan teases through a cocky smile. You squirm more underneath him, causing his hands to move to your hips to hold them down. Logan stares hungrily at your cunt, removing one hand from your hip and bringing it to your pussy lips to rub it tantalizingly slow with his fingers. Flicking his eyes up to meet yours, he finally brings his tongue to your folds and licks up to your clit. You moan throatily and bring your hands to his hair to give it a tug of appreciation. He groans enthusiastically into your pussy, eating at it like your core is the forbidden fruit dripping in molten pleasure. He's animalistic in his movements and noises, lapping at your clit with groans and grunts in pleasure, almost growling even. He brings his fingers to your core, tracing the hole before shoving two digits inside of you. He pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling them with each push inside. The noises are lewd and wet with each drive of his fingers. Your moans grow more desperate and needy as you climb towards your climax, the death grip you have on his hair growing stronger and stronger. The hand holding your hip down crawls up to your breast, grasping desperately at your flesh, hastily circling your nipples with his thumb. Your breaths quicken, your eyes flutter shut as he continues the steady onslaught of your pussy with his mouth and fingers. 

"Logan, I'm so close, don't stop...please..." you trail off, beginning to lose yourself in your pleasure. Logan responds with needy moans against your clit and the continuous pumping of his fingers in and out of you. His grip on your breast loosens to grasp your side, slinking down to your waist, definitely leaving a mark with how rough he grabs at you. As his lips and tongue continue lapping you up, you can feel your arousal swirling in your stomach more and more. Your moans grow louder, your hips begin bucking. Logan groans into you, desperate to feel your release around his fingers. White hot pressure forms around your clit as you teeter on the edge of your orgasm, you look down at Logan and lock eyes with him just as you feel yourself dropping off.

The feeling of hot pink fire pricking your eyeballs jerks you awake, mid-orgasm, your eyes glow a pulsating fuchsia. You pant heavily, your orgasm ending unceremoniously against your fingertips. Leaving you disappointed. You huff in annoyance, wishing you could plunge yourself back into the wet dream that ended in a rather mediocre way. No, wait, that was your professor. You shouldn't be feeling, or thinking, this way at all. You feel disappointed in yourself for having such lewd thoughts about another person, especially a person of authority. You catch your breath, turn your head to face the clock on your nightstand and gasp when you see the time.

"Shit, shit, shit," you curse, hastily throwing yourself out of bed. "Please don't be late today."

(A/N): and that's that!! i hope people enjoy! this concept popped into my head earlier today so i've spent my sunday working on this, if people are interested to see where this goes, please leave a kudos or comment!!! TYYY🫶🏻🙈 i also posted this onto my ao3 here if you would like to view it there and keep up with it there as well!

[saetoru]

#TOP OF THE CLASS! — GETO SUGURU.

「 SYNOPSIS 」 ⋮ geto + virgin killing - your TA is nice, and more importantly, handsome. accidentally sending him nudes makes you realise he's also inexperienced

♱ kinktober ⋮ find the masterlist here !!

♱ pairing ⋮ college TA! geto suguru x student! reader

♱ length ⋮ 5.5k words (she tried okay. she did)

♱ contents ⋮ nsfw and 18+ content, fem! reader, college! au, TA! geto, student! reader, med! student shoko, forging of legal documents (shoko forges you a doctor’s note lol), mentions of drinking + being under the influence, unprofessional relationships, explicit photography (taking + accidentally sending nudes), virgin! + inexperienced! geto, semi-public sex (in a campus office), teasing, humiliation, mentions of male masturbation, handjobs, blowjobs, nipple play, fingering, riding, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

♱ notes ⋮ here is the first kinktober post i hope you all enjoy and HAPPY OCTOBER ITS MY FAV SEASON

the first rule of being a college student is having good time management. that should’ve been something you remembered before saving this paper for the last minute—because now you’re beginning to regret overestimating your ability to finish all the research and the required components and hit the word count. and then you have to cite your sources—which is a pain, and the clock isn’t slowing even a little as it ticks away closer and closer to the deadline. 

you’re doomed, finished for the semester before you could’ve even fully begun. you’re counting your moments to failure for a class you absolutely need to graduate. this paper is thirty percent of your grade—how could you have been so careless as to leave it so last minute?

“it’s useless,” you moan woefully into your phone, making shoko snort as you hear her continue to type away on her keyboard. it hits you that if shoko of all people is further along her paper than you—the same shoko that cheats on everything—then you’ve really let yourself go. “i’m never going to finish this on time,” you mutter. 

“i told you to get started earlier,” she says matter of factly, almost with enough i told you so energy in her voice that you’re two seconds from storming over to her apartment and smashing her laptop to bits. but shoko has a point—even if you refuse to acknowledge it since…well, it’s shoko, after all. 

“i’m not on call with you to lecture me,” you grumble, “i’m on call with you to help me find a solution. you think if i offer the TA a blow job, he’ll give me an A?”

shoko snorts, pausing her typing as if she’s actually contemplating the idea. “maybe, honestly. you know he’s our age, and he’s like years ahead of us? probably too busy with school to get any bitches,” she laughs, making you roll your eyes as a smile tugs at your lips no matter how hard you try to fight it. 

“you know what, you might be right,” you chuckle. you almost feel bad for joking at his expense—your TA is nice, he’s young and kind and understanding, he takes time to slowly go over things when people have questions, he answers emails politely and quickly no matter how stupid the reason, he and has sensible rules that aren’t too strict. and, if you’re being honest, he’s rather handsome. “i wouldn’t mind giving him a blow job though,” you hum, “he’s cute.”

“gross,” shoko gags, “geto suguru is not cute.”

“he is too,” you argue, furrowing your brows as you huff, “he’s probably one of the few men i’ve seen who make a man bun work. and i know he’s ripped under that sweater, he has to be. i saw him leave the gym the other day, and his arms were huge.”

“he’s probably just trying to get bitches,” shoko snorts, “i bet he’s a virgin.”

“shut up,” you laugh, and for a moment, your mind wanders to your stupidly handsome TA. 

you shouldn’t be thinking about him this way—fantasizing about anyone who grades your papers is a line you shouldn't really cross, but you can’t help it. your thoughts turn into what hearing his smooth, deep voice would be like if he moaned into your ear, or what his bangs would look like stuck to his sweaty forehead, or what his abs would look like clenching as he cums, or how breathless he’d sound as he whispers your name—

“wait, i just had an idea,” shoko interrupts your thinking with a gasp, making you shake out of your (very dirty) thoughts as you blink.

you clear your throat, trying your best not to sound flustered as you speak. “i’m scared to ask what the idea is—you’re not really known for having good ones,” you say warily. you can practically see her eyes roll without her being there with you—you’ve been friends with shoko long enough to know her like the back of your hand. and if you know her like you think you do, her idea is about to cause you a lot of stress.

“well, looks like i’m never trying to help you again,” she scoffs, “i could’ve written you a doctor’s note with a few of the copies i managed to snatch—but since you don’t want my help—”

“no, wait! you’re a genius,” you gasp happily, grinning wide as shoko huffs through the phone and mutters something faintly similar to ungrateful under her breath, “i could kiss you on the lips right now.”

“no thank you. you suck,” she hisses. you only giggle, relief flooding through your bones that maybe your grade is saved—and all thanks to having a friend who works in a doctor’s office. you silently send the universe your gratitude for having your best friend pursue a career in the medical field—the perks prove to be quite beneficial, it seems. 

“just send me a picture of it and make it seem like i’m too sick to work on the paper, and i’ll tell him i won’t finish in time. a one day extension should be enough.”

“where would you be without me,” she grumbles quietly, “i’ll send it to you in a second. now please let me finish my paper in peace.”

“okay. love you, you’re the best.”

“i hate you.” the line clicks and you giggle, happily celebrating that you most likely have a saved grade and a free night to yourself now that shoko has so kindly offered you a solution. and of course, you’ll take this as a learning curve and appropriately plan to give yourself enough time for the next paper.

it’s not long before your phone dings and shoko’s contact pops up on your screen with, sure enough, a doctor’s note with today’s date and reason for the visit. shoko has even taken the liberty to make you seem contagious—just so you can skip class tomorrow for good measure. beaming, you text a quick thanks bestie <3 in response—too happy to even care that she sends you an emoji flipping you off. 

and it doesn’t take you long to craft the email either, making sure to properly address him with a greeting, adding apologies for the inconvenience—and as the icing on the cake, a promise that it won’t ever happen again in the future. you click the photo to upload the doctor’s note, and without even a second thought, you click send. 

and then within the split second that the email sends, and you realize just which photo you’ve accidentally clicked, your life flashes before your eyes. 

“no,” you mumble, “no no no,” you chant as you quickly open the email you’ve sent, eyes wide and throat dry. 

the photo is not the picture of the doctor’s note shoko sent—instead, it’s the picture right under it in your camera roll. the picture that’s not very suitable for sending your TA. the picture of your tits, just barely covering your nipples with your arm. the picture you took through giggles while changing after getting a little tipsy the night before (you’d felt just a tad bit sexy in your makeup.)

you sit in silent shock as you register that you just sent your TA your nudes—and just to make matters worse, he responds almost instantly, making your heart drop as you stare at his emailed reply with a shaky hand holding up your phone. 

please meet me in my office tomorrow before class so we can discuss the above email. 

suddenly, your worries are a lot more complicated than simply failing a class.

———————————————

you barely slept the night before, if at all, to be completely honest with yourself. the worst-case scenario runs through your head the entire time you toss and turn in bed. geto is probably going to report this, and then you’ll get expelled, and then you’ll never make it with a successful career, and then you’ll never be able to show your face to anyone you know again. 

your feet are as heavy as lead as they drag along the walk to his room, and you contemplate turning back and never showing up to his office, maybe simply even just refusing to ever return to campus at all. maybe you can move countries and start over somewhere else—maybe you can change your name and make a new life for yourself. 

but instead, you take a deep breath and knock on the door, waiting until you hear a soft come in before you enter. geto is seated at the desk, typing away at his laptop before meeting your eyes as you walk in.

“uh…hi,” you start, standing awkwardly by the door.

“hello,” he says, eyeing you slightly before looking back at his screen. if he has any ill feelings about last night, he does a good job of hiding it—you can’t read a single emotion on his face. somehow, that makes things worse. “have a seat,” he gestures at the chair across from him on the other side of the desk, waiting for you to seat yourself nervously in front of him. 

you sit down, watching as he opens his mouth to start—but you begin speaking before he can. “look, i know that email was really inappropriate, and i’m really sorry—it was an accident, i swear! i meant to click on the picture above it, and i didn’t realize—”

“i understand,” he cuts you off as he holds a hand up, offering you a kind smile that makes you tilt your head in confusion, “it’s fine.” fine. fine? he’s…just fine with it? he’s just willing to let you off the hook? “i’m not much older than you,” he chuckles, “i’m not foreign to these things. i’m sure you’re active in…that aspect of your life.”

oh god—why you? why of all people did this have to be you? why is the world so hellbent on making your life miserable in every aspect?

you eye the coiled wires of the phone on his desk, and you contemplate strangling yourself with them before he can say something anymore embarrassing. but, you have to admit—this is far better than being told you’ve been reported to the dean for misconduct.

“i’m really sorry if it made you uncomfortable,” you fiddle with your fingers as you avoid his gaze, “i really did mean to send you a doctor’s note. i just didn’t realize i hit the picture under it.”

“like i said, it’s okay,” he reassures. calm. he’s almost too calm about this. too okay with it. almost like…like he didn’t mind at all in the first place.“but i wanted to make sure you’re aware of how fragile photos like that are.”

“huh?” you raise a brow. now, this is not where you expected the conversation to steer. you expected a lecture on how sending an educator your explicit photos is highly unprofessional, that it’s unacceptable and suggests other things—things that are completely against the rules and completely out of question to even consider. 

“i mean, photos like those getting into the wrong hands can lead to really bad predicaments,” geto continues, clearing his throat as he closes his laptop and meets your gaze. he looks you dead in the eye as he speaks his next words, “and i wouldn’t want sensitive content of you circulating around campus.”

“right,” you nod slowly, “it’s not like i send them around, or anything. i was just a bit drunk that night, and i was in my room bored, and my makeup was cute so i was feeling good about myself…and…and…yeah…” you trail off. 

why are you even explaining this to him in such detail? you silently curse yourself in your head, beating yourself up for running your mouth so much. 

“oh, that’s good to know,” he nods, “i’m glad to hear that. no one else has possession of these photos?”

you eye him slowly, “nope,” you confirm. “just you—by accident, of course.”

you’re not sure if you imagine it, or if the situation as a whole is making you overinterpret everything that’s happening—but you’re almost certain you hear his breath hitch a little. he’s no longer looking at you, no longer burning you under his gaze like he was just a minute ago.

“right, by accident,” he repeats. it’s slow, like he’s reminding himself, like he has to speak slowly to process the information. “well, i hope this serves as a lesson for being more careful next time. you don’t want young men to save such pictures of yourself for ulterior motives.”

geto suguru, your teacher’s assistant for intro to literature 1301, seems to be rather invested in your well-being—more than a TA really should be. if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’s almost disappointed that you sent him a significantly revealing photo of yourself by accident instead of intentionally. and, if you squint just a little, it almost seems like he doesn’t want anyone else to have the pictures. not because he’s concerned for you—but rather, because he wants to be the only one who’s seen them. 

your thoughts from last night come flooding back, how he’s probably well built under his shirt, how shoko thinks he’s still a virgin, and especially how he probably looks and sounds when he’s overwhelmed with pleasure. and geto suguru might think he has you cornered like a cat would a mouse, but what he doesn’t know is that you’ve been the serpent the whole time, fangs ready to sink into him and devour him whole. 

“you know, you seem like you speak from experience,” you can’t help but grin slightly. 

now, logically speaking, this is wrong—this is pushing the kindness he so graciously showed you. by now, you should be fighting back tears as you figure out a way to break the news to everyone you know that you’ve had to receive an expulsion for sending your TA nudes. by now, your life should’ve been at an all time low, so you really shouldn’t be testing your luck. 

but geto has practically seen your tits, so you’re not really sure there’s any point in acting like an angel around him—and he’s so incredibly hot in that button up shirt of his, sleeves rolled halfway up his arm. plus, the thought of him being your inexperienced TA, one who lets you strip him of his innocence as you slowly taint his purity—it excites you a little more than it really should.

he clears his throat, not meeting your eyes. this time, yours bore into him through a searing gaze that almost makes him shift uncomfortably. 

“well, like i said, i am around your age, so i know how men’s minds work when it comes to these things—”

“so then tell me,” you raise a brow, smirking slightly as his jaw clenches, “is it because your mind works the same way?”

“now—”

“did you save my tit pics to your phone?” you ask bluntly. he hides the choked cough through a clearing of his throat—bingo, you think. almost instantly, the room shifts to him being nervous under your gaze as you eye him smugly. 

something about sweet, kind, successful geto suguru, young and ambitious with a perfect gpa and a flawless resume, being hot and bothered by your breasts makes you swell with pride—and you think maybe…maybe giving him a blow job might not be such an outlandish thought after all. 

maybe he wants it to be a reality just as badly as you do. 

“w-what are you implying—”

“did they turn you on?” you interrupt, watching as his cheeks heat up a slight flush of pink, “did you wish i’d moved my arm down so you could get the full view?” he clears his throat, opening his mouth to speak, but you don’t give him the chance. “was that the first nude you’ve ever been sent?”

“i think that’s enough,” he says sternly, but his voice is slightly higher in pitch—which tells you everything you need to know. and you’re enthused. “keep in mind, i could have every intention to notify the dean of these—”

“but suguru,” you pout, rolling his first name off your tongue so sweetly, he can’t help but be hungry for another taste of something so decadent, “if you tattle on me, you’ll never get a chance to actually see my nipples this time,” you giggle, “isn’t that what you want?”

“i—”

“i wonder,” you grin wickedly, “did you act like every other guy our age and jack off to a random girl’s tits?” 

you must hit close to home because he lets out a shaky exhale, jaw tight and fists clenched as his knuckles turn pale. he swallows thickly before finally meeting your eyes, face a deep shade of crimson as you grin at him widely. 

“i…i’m not…immune to things of that nature,” he finally admits, voice strained as your grin widens. almost instantly, you’re standing up, locking the door behind you and making your way over to his side of the desk without hesitation. the cards have been dealt in your hand, all that’s left is to play them—and you’re pleased to say that the game is heavily leaning in your favor. 

“wanna show me?” you ask with a sultry voice, “wanna show me how you fucked your fist last night? i’ll even let you see my nipples this time around,” you murmur as you seat yourself on his lap. 

geto scoots his chair back and makes room for you, breathing heavily as his pants strain with the tent already forming in them. his breath hitches when your hand rubs over his erection—and he curses himself for being so pathetic as to let a few words from you let him get riled up like this. but you’re so pretty—always have been. 

you sit in class and chew on the top of your pen, making it hard to avert his attention from your mouth. you tilt your head and furrow your brows so cutely when you’re confused, making it hard for him to concentrate on what he’s teaching. you laugh so sweetly out of glee when you do something correctly, and your voice shoots right through his heart—and sometimes, as ashamed as he is to admit it, straight to his dick too. 

and he’s well aware of how bad of an idea this is, but this is everything he’s ever dreamt about—right here under the palm of his hands. literally. so he grips your hips tightly, bringing you to rub over him through your own pants. the friction makes him throw his head back, moaning quietly as your clothed cunt drags along his length. you chuckle, palms gliding over his chest through his shirt and feeling the firm muscle under your hands. 

“does that feel good?” you ask, making him stifle a whimper as you glide over his nipples through his shirt.

your hands move to unzip his pants—and the best part? he lets you. he sits back and lets you free his aching cock from its confinements, he lets you wrap your fingers around his thick girth and squeeze gently, and he lets you pull the soft, low moans you’ve fantasized of hearing from his lips as you smear his pre cum along his shaft and stroke him slowly. 

“f-fuck,” he grunts, hips bucking into your hand, lips tugging between his teeth as he pants harshly with every squeeze at the base of his cock. and because you really can’t help it, you lean down to kiss along his jaw, making your way to his neck and nibbling at his skin. he groans, whispering your name—it makes your thighs squeeze together as a dull ache forms between your own legs. “feels…feels so good,” he mumbles breathlessly, “so different when you do it.”

you giggle, watching him carefully so as not to miss a single reaction. “oh yeah? you know, shoko said you were probably a virgin,” you purr against his ear, making his hands clutch onto your hips tighter, “you seem to be proving that theory right.”

“d-don’t stop,” he pleads when your hand slows, making his hips thrust sloppily into your fist and try to keep your earlier pace going. but you’re mean—just a tad bit cruel, and you wanna see him ooze with shame. so you squeeze on his cock, stilling the movement and making him rasp as he buries his head into your neck with a whine. 

“are you a virgin, suguru?” you hum, stroking his hair soothingly—but it contradicts the teasing tone of your voice. 

his face burns in your neck, “yes,” he mumbles quietly, like the admission stings. 

“how cute,” you pout, “so no one’s ever sucked your dick before?” he shakes his head slowly into the crook of your neck—but it’s not nearly as satisfying when he’s hiding, so you pull his face away despite his initial protesting. “i want to hear it,” you say firmly. 

“fuck—no,” he groans, his face an even deeper shade of red than you thought was possible, “no, no one has ever…you know…”

“sucked your dick?” you grin.

“stop,” he whines. you chuckle quietly before climbing off his lap and sinking down to your knees before him, looking up at his shocked face with a smirk. 

“wanna know something?” you hum, “i’ve thought about sucking your dick.” 

“thinking about you TA like that?” he huffs a chuckle—but whatever semblance of composure he had, he loses as soon as you press a gentle kiss to the tip of his flushed cock, reddened and swollen at the head as beads of pre cum leak from the slit. 

“just like you jack off to your student,” you shoot back, “you want it, suguru? do you want me to make you feel good?”

“god—yes,” he hisses, “get on with it,” he says as he’s throwing you a glare when you snicker up at him from in between his legs. you run your tongue along the tip, humming as you take in the taste of him before wrapping your lips around him and taking him down your throat. 

the reaction is instant—geto slumps back against his chair, gasping as you swallow around him, bobbing your head up and down his length. you loosen your jaw, fucking him with your mouth, letting your tongue drag along the thick vein running across the underside of his cock. his hand falls to the top of your head while the other grips the armrest of his chair, skin turning white over his knuckles as he tightens his hold with each time the warmth of your mouth swallows around him. 

“oh—g-god, shit that’s it,” he grunts, hips bucking into your throat as you pick up your pace. “feels fuckin’ amazing—oh, fuck.”

your hand wraps around the base of his member, pumping what won’t fit in your mouth so no part of him is left neglected. and when your other hand reaches for his balls, rolling the sensitive sacs in your hand and squeezing gently, he rewards you with a whine, voice lilting off to a high pitched moan as his hips thrust up instinctively. your nose brushes against his pelvis, and with a few more swallows, you feel him twitch in your mouth. 

“fuck, fuck, ‘m c-close,” he pants, chest falling and rising erratically. you look up, watching through teary eyes as spit and pre cum dribble down your chin, taking in the pretty sight of his face flushed and his skin damp, bangs clinging to his forehead just like you imagined them to. “don’t stop—’m gonna cum…gonna…gonna make me cum,” he rasps. 

you moan around him, and the vibrations send him over the edge, hips raising as he groans loudly. hot, thick ropes of his cum paint your mouth, seeping past your lips and dripping down your chin as you try your best to swallow what you can. geto sounds better than you expected—voice deep and raspy, but still the same smoothness it always holds even through the cracks as he brokenly calls your name. 

the sound of his voice as he moans your name makes your walls clench around nothing and your clit throb. you let him fuck himself into your mouth through his high, riding out the last waves of his orgasm as pleasure burns through every nerve and every inch of him. when he finally slumps back into his chair, breathing harshly, you pull off of his cock, wiping the mess from your chin on your sleeve. and before you can open your mouth to tease him some more, you’re pulled back onto his lap, his mouth on yours, kissing you deep. 

“this’ll have to be a secret,” he mumbles, “for both of us.” 

for someone who’s never done anything like this before, geto rids you of your clothes almost expertly, lifting your shirt over your arms and sliding your pants off in an instant. he groans when his fingers trace over your clit—which you’re happy to know he can find—and feels the wetness of your slick drooling over the fabric. 

“c’mon, suguru,” you hum, voice edging on a little impatient, “go ahead and touch a pussy for the first time.”

he huffs, yanking the fabric to the side before sinking his ring and middle fingers into you, knuckle deep as this thumb runs circles along your clit. you whine, grinding your hips down on his hand, impatiently waiting for him to move. 

“for someone who’s experienced,” he grins, “you’re awfully impatient.” 

you open your mouth to respond, but as soon as you try to retort, his fingers thrust into you, hitting the sensitive spot of your walls with ease and making you cut yourself off with a moan. he scissors his fingers, stretching you open as your head falls to his shoulder with soft whimpers, feeling him curl his digits deep into you. you whine as your clit hits over his palm, feeling the slow build up of the coil in your belly reach the snapping point.

“keep going,” you encourage, “‘m close, k-keep going—fuck, suguru!” 

“god, you’re so pretty,” he breathes, watching as your head tips back and your mouth parts with a silent sob, watching as you break—all because of him. your walls spasm around his fingers as they bully into you and ride you through your orgasm, and your lips are slightly swollen from biting on them, eyes crinkled as you screw them shut, skin damp and glistening as sweat coats your forehead. 

perfect—you look perfect, and suguru has fantasized about this image in his head for so long, he can hardly believe it’s a reality before him. 

your hands find his long hair, tugging and twisting at the strands that slip between your fingers as the last few waves of your high crash over you. 

the rest is a blur—somewhere through rough and sloppy kisses, through rolled hips and soft groans as you grind against each other, geto has managed to unclasp your bra, letting your tits bounce freely. his hands immediately cup around them, squeezing gently before his lips pull away and his eyes fall to your chest. 

“fuck, they look better in person,” he grunts, rolling his thumbs over your pebbled nipples before pinching them lightly and rolling them between his fingers. you squeal, and your cunt is dripping—smearing your slick along his bare thigh as he teases over the sensitive skin. “feels good?” he mumbles.

“so good—don’t stop,” you moan, making his breath hitch in his throat. grinning, you open your eyes, hazy with lust, meeting his own unfocused gaze, “doing so well, suguru. making me feel so good.”

geto likes praise. you can tell that much alone from his hefty list of accomplishments on his resume. he’s beaming with pride the first day your professor introduces him in class while explaining how capable he is at his young age. he does a good job of staying humble, but you never fail to notice the twinge of excitement in his eyes when he’s praised for his impressive work ethic. 

there’s no exception now either—his eyes search yours for every hint he can find that he’s doing a good job, that he’s doing well and giving you exactly what you want. you swear his cock twitches when you say the word good—and he seems to notice it too because there’s a shaky breath against your neck as he groans. 

“fuck,” he breathes, hands falling to your hips and gripping tightly, desperately, when your hand grabs his throbbing cock, still hard and leaking pre cum from the reddened tip. “want to feel you,” he groans, “please.”

it’s all it takes for you to sink down on him, forehead pressing to his as you both moan against each other’s mouths. he’s big—long and thick, curved at an angle that makes him sink against your sweet spot almost perfectly, almost like he was made for you. it’s a shame he’s your TA, a small part of you almost feels a twinge of disappointment he can’t fully be yours. 

“fuck, suguru,” you gasp, “so big, feels so good.”

he whines, helping lift your hips up and guide you down on his cock, your hips rolling against his, the sound of your moans and the slapping of skin filling up the small office. you’re sure anyone passing by could hear and figure out what’s going on—but it only thrills you more, making you slam down on him faster. 

“so tight,” he grunts, “g-god, so fucking tight, i can’t—” 

his hands are everywhere, they dig into your hips, glide up to cup your tits, and find the back of your neck to pull you close and meet your lips. he’s panting, sweat making strands of hair cling to his forehead as his skin flushes a deep shade of crimson. his hips buck up into you, meeting you halfway with desperate thrusts, trying to feel you deeper. 

your head is spinning—not just from the way his thick girth splits you open, or from the way his tip slams against your spot so perfectly, but from the way his touch seems to light your skin up with every drag of his fingertips. and then he brings one hand down between your bodies, rubbing his thumb against your clit in harsh circles. 

“are you gonna cum, suguru? cause i am,” you moan, “wanna be good and cum with me? fill me up nice and full?”

“sh-shit,” he lets out a shaky breath. he does want to fill you up—wants to cum deep into you so you’re dripping as you walk out of his office. so that when you sit in class and stare at him as he teaches class, you can’t help but think of the way he was buried to the hilt inside you just hours ago. “yeah…yeah, ‘m gonna cum. gonna fill you up, baby,” he groans, “stuff you full of my cum. want it?”

“wan’ it so bad, suguru,” you whine, “look so pretty when you cum, wanna see it again.” 

and with a few more rolls of your hips, the squelching sounds of his cock slipping in and out of you all but drowned out but your pants, you fall off the edge—geto not far behind. you can feel his cock twitch as he shoots rope after rope of his thick cum into you, angling his hips up to fuck it deep into your pussy. it’s a mess, your slick mixed with his seed dripping along your thighs and coating your skin, but you can’t find it in you to care. and you also can’t find it in you to care that you’ll have to leave after this and see him again as you sit through his class. and you certainly don’t have it in you to care that you could both get in serious trouble if anyone realized this was happening.

instead, you cup his cheeks with a gentleness that makes his breath hitch in his throat with a strangled whine, and you kiss him, hard and deep. 

“f-fuck, fuck—ngh, shit,” he gasps, against your mouth in labored pants. it’s never felt like this—cumming into his fist is one thing, but cumming into your tight walls, feeling them squeeze around him in sync with his high is something he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget. he thinks you’ve ruined touching himself for him, thinks he’ll never be able to go back to being fine with just his hand to keep him company when he’s aching between his legs.

after this, geto isn’t sure how he’s supposed to just forget this happened—or about you. his hands don’t stop guiding you onto his cock, hips not ceasing to fuck up into you until you’re both whimpering from sensitivity.

it’s too much—but somehow, it’ll never be enough.

you slump over him when he finally slows down to a stop, bodies a sweaty heap against each other on his chair as his arms wrap around you and his lips find your damp forehead for a soft kiss. you turn your head, pressing a kiss to his jaw in return.

“so,” you wriggle your brows, “can this count as extra credit?” you ask cheekily, feeling his chest rumble with a low chuckle as he pulls you tighter against his chest.

“sure. i’ll even give you enough extra credit opportunities to be top of the class,” he grins.

© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok

[fvsm4x]

Hii! Can I request any jjk men with a best friend! reader who wears a mask to hide their face bcs they think its ugly? (its up to u if u want sfw or not!)

#PRETTIEST [Gojo S. and Geto S.]

SUMMARY: Since you were a child, you‘ve always hated the way you look, so- you started wearing a mask.

— C.W: Gojo Satoru x female reader x Geto Suguru , hurt with comfort , insecurity , fluff.

— WORD COUNT: 1.3k+

— TAGLIST: @starlightanyaaa

— A/N: AHHH THIS IS SUCH A CUTE REQUEST I HAD TO WRITE IT IMMEDIATELY AFTER I FINISHED WRITING MAYBE IN ANOTHER LIFE!! SORRY IF ITS SHORT I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!

Since you were a small child, you always hated the way you looked. Your nose, cheeks, and moles were constant sources of self-consciousness, and you despised the way you appeared in general. It was as if a dark cloud of insecurity constantly loomed over you, casting a shadow on your self-esteem.

Around the age of 7, it all began. You were just an innocent child, excited to go to school like any other kid. You possessed a unique ability that set you apart from your classmates - you could see curses, dark entities that others couldn’t perceive.

Every day, as you walked past your classmates, you were subjected to relentless torment. They would push you into the ground, snatch away your books, spill your lunch onto your head, and even steal your clothes during PE. You became a victim of bullying, and the reason behind it was painfully clear - you were deemed ugly.

At that tender age, you couldn’t comprehend the cruelty that surrounded you. You naively believed that this was their way of noticing you or playing with you. But as time went on, the truth slowly revealed itself - they targeted you because of your appearance, because you were considered ugly in their eyes.

It was during this dark period that you began to wear a mask, hoping that it would shield you from the relentless bullying. The mask became your armor, a tangible barrier that protected you from the perceived flaws you couldn’t bear to face. It became a part of your identity, an integral aspect of who you were. With the mask on, you felt a sense of safety, as if you were hiding your true self from the scrutinizing eyes of the world.

There wasn’t a single moment when you ventured outside without your mask. But despite the mask’s protective facade, deep down, you longed to be accepted for who you truly were.

It was during this challenging time that you crossed paths with your best friends, Geto and Gojo. Fate brought the three of you together on a fateful day as you were walking home from school. They witnessed your ability to kill a low-grade curse, and in that moment, they knew that you were like them - you could see curses just as they could.

This serendipitous encounter changed the course of your life. You made the decision to leave your previous school and join the same school as Geto and Gojo, hoping that this new environment would provide a fresh start, free from the torment of your past.

In the same class as Geto and Gojo, there was another girl who exuded beauty effortlessly. Her flawless skin, perfect facial structures, and the charming mole beneath her eye made her the epitome of perfection. Secretly, you couldn’t help but feel jealous of her. You longed to possess the same level of beauty and radiance, but you kept your jealousy hidden beneath a facade of indifference.

As the months passed, your bond with Geto and Gojo grew stronger. You began to address them by their first names, just as they did with you. It seemed like everything was going well, until one fateful day when a simple request shattered the fragile equilibrium you had created.

The three of you were gathered in Geto’s dorm, engrossed in a movie, when Gojo’s curious gaze fell upon your mask. His innocent question pierced through your defenses, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.

“Say, y/n… could we see your face?” he inquired, his finger pointing towards the mask that concealed your true self.

In that moment, the smile that had adorned your face behind the mask vanished, replaced by a mixture of apprehension and fear. You locked eyes with Gojo, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race.

“We’ve been friends for quite some time now, and I can’t recall a single moment where you haven’t worn that mask. You even wear it while you sleep!” he continued,

Your gaze dropped, unable to meet their expectant eyes. It was true - you had never once removed the mask in their presence. You only allowed it to come off when you brushed your teeth or washed your face. The thought of revealing your true face to them filled you with an overwhelming sense of dread. You feared that they would be repulsed by your appearance, that they would abandon you once they saw the real you, the one you believed to be ugly.

“That’s true, y/n. If you have a larger injury or something, we won’t judge. We just want to see how pretty you look behind the mask,” Geto chimed in,

Pretty.

The word echoed in your mind, taunting you with its expectations. They anticipated beauty, but what if you took off your mask and shattered their illusions? What if they saw the imperfections that plagued your self-image? The mere thought of their potential rejection was unbearable.

But why do you care so much about their opinion?

The reason was because you had fallen in love with both Geto and Gojo. Despite knowing that you were seemingly out of their league, your heart couldn’t help but beat faster whenever you were around them. You had tried to suppress these feelings, but they persisted, refusing to be ignored.

“I promise, Y/N, whatever you’re hiding won’t change a thing between us,” Gojo spoke, his voice filled with sincerity as he positioned himself in front of you. Geto, too, reached out and gently took your hands in his larger ones.

“Please, trust us,” Geto pleaded,

You found it difficult to resist their pleading gazes. Taking a deep breath, you finally relented, “Fine, but I warn you, it’s not what you expect.”

As the mask slipped away, revealing your face, you closed your eyes tightly, bracing yourself for the inevitable disappointment and rejection. You didn’t want to hear the people you loved utter the same hurtful words that had haunted you in the past.

But then, to your astonishment, Gojo’s voice broke the silence, filled with genuine awe, “Unbelievable! This is beyond stunning; it’s mesmerizing.”

Did you hear correctly? Mesmerizing? He didn’t say the word “ugly”? You cautiously opened your eyes, only to be met with Gojo’s intense gaze. He was staring at your face, his cheeks flushed with a deep blush. In that moment, you realized that he found you stunning, not repulsive. He was captivated by your appearance.

“I knew you were hiding a masterpiece under there, but this… it’s like you walked out of a dream,” Geto spoke, his hands tightening around yours,

Confusion and disbelief washed over you as you struggled to comprehend their reactions. “I don’t understand… why aren’t you saying I look ugly?” you murmured, your eyes flickering between the two of them.

“Ugly?” Gojo scoffed, his voice filled with disbelief. “That’s impossible. You’re the epitome of beauty, and we’re lucky to witness it.”

“Whoever said that you’re ugly clearly is blind,” Geto chimed in, removing his hands from yours and wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. “Because you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen in my whole life.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you widened them in shock. The tears began streaming down your face as a genuine smile spread across your lips. You were overwhelmed by their words and the overwhelming surge of emotions that flooded your heart.

Suddenly, a hand crept around your waist, and you looked down to see Gojo smiling up at you, resting his head on your lap.

“You guys…” you whispered, your voice choked with emotion as more tears continued to flow down your cheeks, landing on Gojo’s face beneath you.

A hand gently cradled your jaw, turning your head to the side, and you found yourself meeting Geto’s intense gaze. He brought his lips to your face, tenderly kissing away the tears that cascaded down your cheeks.

“Beautiful,” he murmured,

© fvsm4x do not repost!

[chaoticharrington]

Chapter Two: The Ticket and Your Shitty Car

***THERE WILL BE LOTS SMUT 18+ CONTENT EVENTUALLY SO MINORS THIS IS NOT A SPACE FOR YOU, MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED,IF YOU DONT HAVE AN AGE IN YOUR BIO I WILL LIKELY ASSUME YOU'RE A MINOR AND BLOCK. DM/ASK FOR ANY QUESTIONS THANKS!<3***

Pairing: Professor! Steve Harrington x Best Friends Dad! Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Lots of angst (sorry folks), mentions of anxiety and bullying, cigarette smoking, Eddie and Steve being sexy, kissing 👀, Reader is in their mid 20s and Steve and Eddie are in their early to mid 40s. Lemme know if i've missed anything.

Summary: After a few weeks of getting closer to Eddie and Steve feelings bubble to the surface

Authors Note: I'm so excited for this chapter and the rest of the series i've been having so much fun writing this! I've never written angst before so i'm interested in the response it'll get! And I pinky promise ya'll are getting smut in the next chapter 😈 7k words

**Chapter One Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five**

(banners and headers by @cafekitsune)

A couple days had gone by since your first interactions with the two men that have been plaguing both your waking thoughts and your dreams. You’ve woken up more than once this week from your body buzzing and your panties soaked through. Lips on skin, rough hands on your hips, deep voices whispering in your ear. Groaning yourself fully awake and grabbing your vibrator to finish the job, that isn’t nearly as good as whatever was happening in your dreams.

Because of these dreams it made it impossible to look at Steve during class, only looking when you absolutely had to. Avoiding Mr. Munson was a bit easier, he either wasn’t home much when you were with Violet, or he was in the garage. You convinced yourself that you would just eventually get over your little crushes, and if you just avoided them long enough then things would go back to normal, and you’d have your sanity back.

But things didn’t quite work out that way. After you had gotten your ticket on the first day, you decided you would just pay it off yourself, to avoid another possibly embarrassing interaction with Steve. You had your parking pass now so you wouldn’t get another ticket. But you had a busy week with assignments and kept forgetting to take care of it. By the end of the week, you had completely forgotten about it, until Fridays sociology class. It was a normal class; Steve was talking about the theoretical approach to sociology. At the end of class, you were supposed to hand in your paper on Social Darwinism, you had spent many late nights making sure that this paper specifically was perfect. The problem was that when you were meant to hand it in at the end of class, you couldn’t find it, and you were starting to panic. Almost all the other students had left or were in the process of handing in their papers and you were left anxiously digging through your bookbag.

“Oh, how the tables turn, need some help there?”

You freeze, looking up from the familiar black converse that you could see next to your bookbag. Your anxious eyes are met with playful honey brown ones, that make you relax slightly.

“Sorry no I’m good I know it’s in here somewhere,” you reply a little anxious. You didn’t want your professor to think that this was any reflection of you as a student or your work ethic.

Steve watches you dig through your bag for another few seconds when you finally find it, in a folder you don’t remember putting it in. When you get the folder out of your bookbag, the ticket sitting at the bottom of your bag falls out onto the floor right at Steves feet. You’re too busy to notice, trying to make sure all of the pages of your paper are in order, and you have all your sources. When you finally look up from the papers in front of you, you see Steve holding the ticket that you got on the first day of school.

You panic and look up and into his eyes, he doesn’t look mad, but he looks confused. “I thought I told you I’d fix this for you if you ever got a ticket. Why didn’t you tell me?” he said.

“I- I didn’t want to bother with you something so silly, I was going to pay it, but with a bunch of papers due, I just forgot I’m sorry,” you blurt out.

Steve raises his hand to silence your apologies casually, and you’re ready for him to yell at you or at the very least be disappointed in you.

Shit, why did you not just pay it the day you got it?

“It’s not your fault honey, there’s no need for you to apologize, okay?” he says warmly. Your shoulders relax a bit more, his voice giving you reassurance.

“I swear I really did mean to pay it, I just didn’t want to bother you,” you confess.

Steves eyes soften. “Y/N you are never a bother, plus it's my fault for being the worst teacher in history and not giving you a parking pass.” He jokes.

“Steve you’re one of my favorite teachers, nowhere near my list of worst teachers.” You reveal.

He smiles widely and raises his eyebrow; you swear you can feel your insides thaw. With the playful look on his face, he almost seems younger, you could only imagine how attractive he was when he was younger, even just a glimpse is enough to make your stomach do flips.

“Oh so there IS list? Well, I demand to know where I am on your favorite teachers list, maybe it’ll give me motivation to try harder in class.” He winks at you in retort. You swear you could cum in your pants right now, how dare he be so beautiful and perfect, and funny.

You think hard for a second, you can’t put him first you think his ego probably couldn’t handle it, also it would just bring you more embarrassment. But he very easily is your favorite teacher, he makes jokes during class, makes sure his lectures are easy to understand and enjoyable, and seems to genuinely care about all his students, it’s very hard to rank any teacher above him.

“I hope your ego can handle it Steve, but you’re second.” you gush.

“You wound me, SECOND? That’s basically failure I demand to know who could possibly rank higher than me?” he jokingly stands up straighter, adjusts his tie, and holds his hand to his heart.

Damn, you hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“Uh, Professor Buckley, my Gender Studies Professor, I love her class,” you confess.

Steves eyes couldn’t roll farther back into his head even if he tried, you almost worried that they’d get stuck.

“You’re telling me, my best friend has already won you over? I’ve sat in on some of her classes and there is no way that Robin is funnier than I am!” he exclaimed as he puts his hands on his hips.

“You know Professor Buckley.. er Robin? Also, you definitely top her in the funny department, how did I know you wouldn’t be satisfied with second.” you retort easily. You could get used to this, the casual flirting, smiling with your professor, it felt easier than breathing. Once you got over the fact that he was one of the most handsome men that you’ve ever seen in your whole life.

“Know her? She’s been my best friend since high school, and a major pain in my ass. Second place is basically losing, everyone knows that babe.” The pet name slipped off his tongue so effortlessly.

Your eyes must have gone wide because Steve looks slightly embarrassed and rubs the back of his neck.

Babe babe babe babe babe babe babe HE CALLED YOU BABE

“Well then I guess you gotta step it up Professor.” you reply, trying to ease the tension in the room.

He smiles at you gratefully, “yeah I guess so,” he chuckles.

“Anyways I don’t want to keep you again for the second time this week, I’ll see you in class on Monday Steve.” you say as you go to stand up and walk past him. You’re about halfway to the door before you hear him call out.

“Hey, wait up, uh why don’t you come with me to my office so I can get that parking ticket taken care of for you,” he explains.

“You sure? I don’t want to make you late for your next class.”

“I’m the one who got you into this mess, please let me help you fix it?” he asks gently.

“Lead the way professor,”you answer playfully.

He smiles that flashy Steve Harrington smile and shows you the way towards his office.

“It’s just down this hallway,” he shares.

Then you feel him put his hand at the small of your back guiding you into a room on the righthand side, his touch lights your body on fire. It takes everything in you not to lean into his touch. You can smell his cologne, now that you’re so close to him. It’s a fairly clean scent with hints of musk and spice at the end, a more modern scent then you expected from a man his age. It only makes you want him more, to lean in closer and smell his scent mixed with the cologne.

You’re snapped out of your daze when Steve picks up the phone receiver and punches in a phone number. His fingers almost covered the buttons on the phone, and it made your legs squeeze together, thinking back to the multiple dreams you had about those specific fingers all over you. Steve looks up at you smiling lightly, surely just trying to fill the silence that filled the room. You hoped he hadn’t magically learned how to read minds in the short walk from his classroom to his office or you’d be toast.

His office wasn’t anything glamorous, it was an average size, with a nice desk and comfy looking chair, and big window with a view that overlooked the campus. The only thing making it uniquely his are the loads of pictures of him and Professor Buckley, and a few other guys and girls that looked around his age or maybe a bit younger. Documenting various birthdays, weddings, and get togethers.

While Steve is on the phone you take a moment to look at them, you see a picture of Steve being Professor Buckleys best man in her wedding to a pretty woman with dark brown hair and blue eyes. They all looked so happy, it made you smile, it looked like a really special day. Also noting that there are no wedding photos of him or pictures of him with a girlfriend, making your heart internally soar.

When you finally tear your eyes away from the photos, you hear the end of a conversation Steve is having with someone on the phone.

“Thanks again Reg, I promise it won’t happen again. Yeah, you too, take care. Say hi to the wife and kids for me," he said.

He puts down the receiver and looks at where you’re standing, and gestures to the photo you’re looking at.

“Yeah, Robins wedding! It was a really great day,” he reminisces. He goes onto explain that Robin ended up marrying his ex from High School, Nancy Wheeler. You smile and nod along to the anecdotes he talks about that day, trying to absorb everything he tells you about his life like a sponge.

“And by the end of the night Lucas and Max lead everyone in a impromptu sing-a-long to Never Ending Story, It was hilarious,” He says. You could combust, you can see just how clearly he loves his friends and how much they mean to him. He shakes his head and smiles wide at the memory, his smile being infectious, you smile back at him.

“Sounds like really good time Steve,” you reply.

“Yeah, it was, it really was.” he shares, he seems a little lost in thought for a moment before smiling up at you. “Sorry I don’t mean to bore you with my stories of the old days, I don’t get to gush about the people I love very often, so its nice to have someone listen," He confessed.

Your heart melts, he’s such a sweetheart. “No no please, I enjoy hearing them, makes you more a person than just my teacher. Plus, maybe at some point you’ll slip up and tell me something embarrassing about yourself. Then you’re done for Harrington,” you jab.

     He raises his eyebrows at you and looks impressed. “That’ll never happen, I’ve never done anything embarrassing in my life ever,” he states sarcastically.

     “Well, I’ll just have to ask Professor Buckley, my favorite teacher, about it won’t I?” you interject.

     His face goes from his handsome boyish grin to fake terror in a split second, “I will give you whatever grade you want in my class if you don’t do that, she’d go on for hours, might even keep you after class just to rub it in my face.”  

     You could tell that there was some truth to his words, and you know your gender studies professor well enough to know that she really would just rip him a new one. You giggle back at him, unable to keep it in.

“She really would tear you to shreds, wouldn’t she?” you cackle. His face softens, “Yes she’s evil, just awaiting my downfall I swear!” he smiles softly at you.

You both look at each other a bit longer before Steve clears his throat. “Anyways um, I talked to the guy in campus security and you’re good to go, you don’t have to pay the ticket,” He spoke.

You had honestly completely forgotten that was the reason you were even in his office; his demeanor makes you feel at home in your own skin and were just happy to not have anxious thoughts rolling around inside of your head.

“Oh, right yeah, thank you so much, you really didn’t need to go through all this trouble for me,” you said.

“No trouble at all, really. I should probably get going though, my next class starts soon.” he explained looking at the very expensive looking watch on his wrist.

You try your best not to show your disappointment, wishing to stay in this little bubble with him a bit longer.

“Of course, yeah. Thank you again Steve,” you respond.

He leads you back out the door with his hand on your back again, maybe this time a bit firmer than the last, and you weren’t complaining. You both wave your goodbyes for the weekend before you head out to the parking lot, and he heads towards his next class.

You were relieved to be going home, this first week of school has tested you mentally and emotionally and you were ready for a little break. You hop in your car, and twist your key in the ignition, but to your surprise, instead of your car roaring to life like it usually does. It just stalled, unable to start. You try the ignition a few more times before you rest your head on your steering wheel.

Just your fucking luck

You take your phone out of your jean pocket and call Violet to see if she knows any good mechanics in the area. But you only get her voicemail. “Come on Vi,”you mutter to yourself, trying her cell again and again. Only to get her voicemail each and every time. You couldn’t very well leave your car in the parking lot overnight, then you’d surely get another ticket. But what other option did you have?

You make the decision to call Violet’s home phone, thinking maybe she’s too engrossed in a TV show or something to see her phone going off. It rings a few times before someone picks up.

“Munson residence.” a deep familiar voice answers the phone.

Shit

“Hi Mr. Munson, is Vi there?” you reply.

“Nah she left about an hour or two ago to head to work, everything okay?” he asks a slight concern in his voice.

“Oh uh yeah, my- my car just isn’t starting and I don’t know any mechanics in the area who could come and take a look at it,” you respond anxiously

You hear what you assume is him blowing out some smoke from his mouth, you shake your head trying to stay on track.

“Any mechanic out here is gonna charge you an arm an a leg to come look at your car right before the weekend, let me come and take a look at it myself,” he suggests.

Your body runs cold, you couldn’t deal with another interaction with BOTH of them in the same day again, you’d burst into flames.

“Oh gods no that’s really okay Mr. Munson. I’ll just leave my car here overnight its no big deal, I’ll just walk home its not that far,” You babble anxiously.

You hear him scoff on the other end of the phone, “What do you mean walk home? Where are you Y/N?” his tone getting a bit more serious than the lighthearted goofy tone you usually get from him.

“I’m at school, it’s fine really, my apartment isn’t that far from-,” you squeak.

“Let me just grab my tools and I’ll meet you in the parking lot, which building are you in front of?” he interjects, you can hear some rustling on the other end of the phone.

“I-,“ you think about arguing with him but you know that in the end Mr. Munson is a stubborn man and you will lose. “I’m in front of the Humanities and Social Sciences building, its right by-,“ you confess.

He chuckles “Oh yeah I know the one, be there in a sec, hang tight.” he says before hanging up the phone.

You bring your phone down onto your lap in defeat. You hide in your car until you see his car pull up, you don’t need anyone seeing you, especially a certain sociology professor. His big black truck pulls into the space next to you, and you get out of your car to greet him.

“Hey thanks for coming all the way out here, I hope I didn’t take you away from anything or anyone,” you look up at him innocently. He stands about a foot away from you, but even then, you could see just how much taller he is than you. He could probably use you as an arm rest.

He gives you an easy-going smile, “No problem at all sweetheart, I’m happy to help!” You give him the keys and he goes to try and start the car and it stalls again and he clicks his tongue.

Your mind going back to the dreams you’ve had of his tongue on you, on your skin. You shiver at the thought, and you squeeze your arms around you willing yourself not to fall apart.

Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice, too preoccupied with opening the hood and looking inside. He takes off his leather jacket and lays it on top of the hood and rolls up his sleeves. He fiddles around inside of the hood for a few seconds before popping his head around the corner.

“Looks like your spark plug is shot, I have an extra on me in case of emergencies, it’s your lucky day pretty lady,” He announces cheerily.

Pretty lady

“Oh, thank you Mr. Munson, you’re a life saver!” you beam.

He looks at you again one more time, studying you for the second time this week, he looks like he’s contemplating something in his head. His eyes are like lasers on your skin, heating you up from the inside.

“It’s Eddie, you can call me Eddie honey, you’ve known me long enough.” he says as he smiles at you, the edges of his eyes crinkling.

You can’t help but smile back, “Okay, thanks, E-eddie,” you stammer out. His name feeling so odd on your tongue, he’s your best friend’s dad, would Violet think its weird that you call him by his first name now?

He smiles contently like he made the right decision and goes back to working on your car. You lean against his car just watching him work, seeing how his hands knowingly move on all the parts of your car that you don’t even know the names of, only being able to identify the windshield wiper fluid cap and oil fill cap. You look at his now uncovered arms that you didn’t see the last time you got a good look at him, you could see right near his left wrist Violets name tattooed in beautiful cursive, and D20 right above his left elbow. You see how veiny his hands and arms are, probably due to years of playing the guitar and working on various motorcycles and cars.

“So, what are you going to school for?” he says, looking at you through the corner of his eye while he works.

“Psychology mostly,” you reply easily.

“What do you want to do with it? Your degree?” he responds.

“I’d love to work with kids, I felt like no one ever listened to me as a kid, so I’d love to be able to be a safe space for kids to express themselves.” You shared, this was something you’ve been passionate for a while, wanting to work with kids. Giving them something that you never got when you were a kid, a place where they felt understood even if they didn’t feel like that at home.

He looks up at you from his work with an impressed look on his face, “That’s really fucking cool Y/N, I wish stuff like that had been around when I was a kid. Woulda made Middle School and High School a lot more bearable for me, trust me.”

Your heartbreaks at his confession, you figured that he probably wasn’t always the suave sexy metal head that he is now, and he probably got teased a lot when he was a kid. It reminded you of your own experiences in school, teased and never really fitting in anywhere. Violet went through something similar except it never really seemed to bother her, she was always the type of kid that always knew who she was and didn’t let anyone get in her way. You always admired that about her.

“Honestly me too,” you confess.

Eddie raises an eyebrow at you, “No way, You and Vi had loads of friends in Middle School,” he says.

“Yeah, in Middle School sure, but high school was brutal without her there, kids are mean.” You say sadly, rubbing your boot into the asphalt trying to wash away depressing memories of eating in the bathroom and crying yourself to sleep at night.

Eddie scrunches his eyebrows together and nods knowingly, sharing that feeling. “Yeah, teenagers are fucking assholes.”

You nod knowingly, as Eddie steps around the front of your car to get into the driver’s seat, scootching closing to you, grabbing the side of your waist as he passes you. You take a shallow breath, and your mouth runs dry. His hand felt so perfect on your waist, like it belonged there… and then your mind wanders to Steve, his touch felt the same way.

Eddie got into the front seat and turned your key in the ignition, and sure enough your car roared to life.

“Huzzahh!” Eddie cheered, getting out of the driver’s seat and bowing to you. A smile plastered across his face in triumph.

“There ya go honey good as new, although you should stop by the house sometime, so I can put a new battery in your car, it looks like it’s about to take a shit on you, and I want you to be safe during the Winter.” He says casually wiping the oil and grease off his fingers with the rag in his tool kit.

He wants you to be safe

“That would be great, thank you again, honestly I don’t know what I would have done without you. What do I owe you Eddie?” you ask. Surely, he’d want some compensation for driving all the way out here on a Friday, probably ruining his plans to come help his daughters best friend with her car.

“On the house, and don’t fight me on this I’m not accepting any money from you.” He says slightly stern but in a way that makes you smile lightly.

“I’ll figure out a way to make it up to you or something, do you like cookies? I’ll bake you some cookies for all your help,” you insist.

“IF you happen to make double chocolate chip cookies and bring them over to the house, for Violet of course, I wouldn’t say no to one or two,” he says slyly.

“I’ll bring them over this weekend.” you say determined to not be in debt to him.

He packs his tools back into the trunk of his truck and shrugs his leather jacket back on, “I’ll hold you to that sweetheart.” he winks at you before getting back into his truck and waving to you as he drives off the lot.

You get back into your newly fixed car and drive home to your apartment, first thing on the agenda, a very cold shower.

The next few weeks had been an absolute whirlwind of epic proportions. Steve came back with your grades for your latest paper, and when yours got passed to you, at the top of your paper, “SEE ME AFTER CLASS” was written in blue pen. After class he explained that he was “very impressed” with your work and effort you spent on your paper and asked you to be his TA and help him a couple of days a week. Help him with grading papers, answering any questions your classmates had on assignments or class subjects, and help with lectures for upcoming classes. You couldn’t have said yes faster, not only did you have a huge massive crush on him. But you genuinely enjoyed his class and were excited to prove yourself. On those days you spent most of the time after your classes, spent huddled in his office with him grading papers or talking about different upcoming subjects you were going to learn in class. It was becoming one of your favorite parts of your day, you always left his office in the best mood. Plus, the flirting and your attraction to him only grew during this time, you noticed he started going more and more out of his way to touch you, or holding eye contact with you longer than was probably appropriate. You welcomed it, Steve made you feel like you were on cloud nine, some nights the two of you were left in his office until after dark, after all the work was done, just flirting and talking about life. Eating shitty takeout food that he’d grab from the cafeteria or the two of you would order in.

He always treated you with respect letting you talk about your feelings or whatever was on your mind, you eventually opening up to him about why you wanted to go into psychology, and he opened up to you about how he hadn’t always been the way he is now, and how there are parts of his past he’s ashamed of. The two of you bonded over your lack of family you had in your life, you told him about your parents basically ditching you after graduation and he told you about how his parents cut him off when he told them what decided what he wanted to do with his life and hadn’t heard much from him since. He reassured you that the only family that actually mattered was your chosen family and the people who love you that you let into your little corner of the world. You talked about your views on the world and your dreams. You liked that about him, that he listened to you and how modest and genuine he is, you assumed at first glance that someone with good looks like him and his upbringing he’d have an large ego. Which wasn’t entirely wrong, but not in a bad way. You’d come to really like Steve Harrington, he had an ego the size of a lake but a heart to match.

Which made it even more confusing on the days that you didn’t spend in his office. See you had saved up enough money for school and your expenses for the first couple of weeks, but that money only stretched so far. So, you looked for a job, and you became desperate. Being in a college town, good jobs that weren’t already taken by other college students were far and few between and being a TA wasn’t enough. So, one night after school when you were at Violets, Eddie overheard you talking about your dilemma, and offered you a job working for him. Eddie worked as a record producer and worked closely with a few music managers who were looking for social media manager. Which you happily accepted, there were no set hours and you could do a majority of your work in your pjs at home unless you needed to get Eddies opinion on something then you’d spend time out in the garage with him while he gave you advice or things the label is looking for in terms of the clients image or engagement numbers you needed to hit.

Sometimes you’d even make up excuses just to go over and spend time with him in the garage. He was patient with you while you slowly opened up to him about things that had happened over the past few years that you never wanted to worry Violet with, cheating boyfriends, bad friends, financial problems, and he took it all with stride, listening to and giving advice where he could. He’d spend time reminiscing about the “glory days” when his band, Corroded Coffin, used to play gigs every weekend at the hideout, a small bar on the outside of town. Or when he was in high school, he ran a club in school called the Hellfire Club where all his friends would play DnD, he even showed you that he got Hell Fire tattooed across his knuckles. You’d spend hours over there just tucked away in Eddies little corner of the house, sometimes he’d play songs for you on his guitar, or when he found out you had never played DnD he spent a few nights teaching you all the basics in case you ever wanted to play. You liked the way you felt when you were around Eddie, in a similar way that Steve did, Eddie quieted your thoughts of self-doubt and anxiety that usually swirled around in your head. You really liked Eddie, and it made your feelings even more confused because you felt guilty keeping all of this from Violet. You didn’t know how she would react to you having a crush on her dad, and you never wanted to put your friendship with her in danger. She was basically the only family you had, and you intended to keep it that way, even if it meant keeping your crush on her father a secret.

It all came to a head about a month later. You were staying late in Steve’s office grading papers while he was reading over some scientific studies that he was going to go over in class that following week. You were reading over a specific paper, a girl who sat behind you in class, who giggled at Steve during the first day of class. She had a lot of typos in her paper, and you had a hard time following her methods and asked for Steves opinion. He got up from his desk and went over to the other side of his desk where you were sitting, hovering over you so his face was close to yours. You loved when he did this, being able to see the honey bits in his eyes or the way his eyebrows scrunch together when he was thinking really hard, or how he ran his tongue along his lips to wet them.

 For some reason the air in the room seems extra electrified, the tension being so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Your breath hitched as he got extra close to read a specific part in the paper, you could smell his cologne so clearly it was intoxicating. Steve turned to you to tell you what points to dock from her paper, but you didn’t hear a single word he was saying, it was all drowned out by the lust you felt for him. You think he could sense it too, his eyes kept flickering between your eyes and your lips.

Oh gods was this really happening?

You could see his face getting closer and closer to yours, you closed your eyes, bracing for impact. Your heart was beating faster than you ever thought humanly possible. And then, he kissed you. More intensely than you’d ever been kissed before, he started out soft, testing the waters. Slowly brushing his lips against yours, working up intensity until his tongue prodded your lips asking for an invitation in. The invitation happily accepted by you, you welcomed him in with your lips and sighed into the kiss, allowing your hand to grasp at the hairs at the nape of his neck. He held onto the side of your face like if he let go, you’d vanish. You kissed like this for a minute or two, lips melding together and tongues intertwining. He tasted like his spearmint gum that he chews sometimes, and his lips were softer than you ever thought humanly possible.

But as quickly as it started, it stopped. Steve de-tangled himself from your grip and stood back.

“Fuck, holy shit, I- Y/N I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have done that. I’m your teacher for Christ’s sake… FUCK!” he shouted.

You jump at the volume of his voice, you were not used to this Steve, or the tone he was using. He paced around the room for a few minutes, and you looked at your shoes embarrassed. Embarrassed because you weren’t sorry it happened. You had been dreaming for weeks about what his lips would feel like or what he'd taste like.

“I’m not Steve, you don’t need to be sorry because.. because I wanted it to happen, I’ll only be your student for a few more months and then after that we can do whatever we want,” you blurt out in desperation. Allowing the thoughts and dreams that hide in your head to spill out of your mouth. Steve sighs and sits back down in his chair, taking his glasses off his face and pinching the bridge of his nose with his middle finger and thumb.

“I- I think you should just go Y/N, I need to figure out what to do. This shouldn’t have happened and I’m sorry it did,” he murmurs.

His words act like daggers in your heart, stealing all the breath from your lungs. All the worst-case scenarios that played out in your head when you felt insecure, now playing out right in front of you. You were angry, you know he feels the same way but he’s too much of a coward to do anything about it.

“Fuck you Steve, fuck you!” you bite out through your teeth, not allowing the tears to flow from your eyes, just yet. He just rejected you, the last thing you wanted was for him to see you cry. You pack up all the things that had been splayed-out all over Steve’s desk, shoving them into your bookbag, and storming out of the room.

Before you’re even out of the building the tears start streaming down your face, you choke back sobs as you get into your car. You bury your head in your hands, your shoulders shaking from how hard you were crying. You can’t go home, you thought. Not to an empty apartment where it’s even more apparent just how alone you are.

You put the key into the ignition and go to the only other place in town that you can think of going to, Violet’s house. You prayed to any god that could hear you, that Violet was home, but Eddie was not. You did not want him to see you like this, especially over a guy. He’d heard all the pathetic stories of love that hadn’t worked out you didn’t need to add another to the list.

Somehow luck was on your side with this, Eddie’s car was not in the driveway, only Violets. You get out of the car, not even bothering to lock it and run up to the door and let yourself inside with the key Violet had given you after your first week in Hawkins. Tears still streaming down your face, you take in your new surroundings; Violet was sitting on the couch watching some dumb rom com and eating popcorn. She looks startled by the sudden intrusion and the state you were in. Your mascara all smudged, and you had tears streaming down your face.

“Y/N? What happened?” she coos. She gets off the couch and walks over to you, her face softens when she gets closer to you, her face now shrouded in worry. She pulls you fiercely into a hug and just lets you cry on her shoulder. Eventually she brings you over to the couch and she gets you to tell her the events that have unfolded. She listened intently while you told her about your professor and how you felt about him, and then about how he rejected you after a mind-blowing kiss. She held your hand the entire time, rubbing soothing circles into your hand.

Just as you had finished telling her what happened you heard the familiar jingle of the doorknob and the heavy boots that followed. You couldn’t look at him right now, not when you looked like this.

“Hey, hey party people, I didn’t know you were coming over tonight I shoulda got more beer from the store!” Eddie sang. The closer Eddie got to you he realized something was off and stopped in his tracks.

“Now’s not a good time dad,” Violet said, still focusing her attention on you.

“What happened? Y/N are you okay? Are you hurt? Did something happen with your car?” his questions flying by you a million miles a minute. Too exhausted to say anything you let Violet speak for you.

“She kissed a guy at school, and he rejected her,” Violet says as softly as she can.

“Y/N kissed a guy at school?” he said, you could hear an edge in his voice that made you flinch slightly.

“Yes, dad god did you have to repeat it? She’s been through enough tonight. Come Y/N lets go upstairs.” She says clearly annoyed with her dad’s lack of empathy.

You couldn’t bear to look at Eddie, so you allow Violet to usher you upstairs into her room. You two cuddle up in her bed, she lets you borrow some clothes to spend the night in and gives you a makeup wipe to wash the mascara and mostly cried off eyeliner off your face. You felt so taken care of by her, you remember you used to do this for her in Middle School when boys would be shitheads to her, it took a lot to break Violet, but boys are the worst.

At some point Violet fell asleep when you guys were listening to a true crime podcast, you felt your tummy grumble and slowly slipped out of her room to find a snack in the kitchen. You were so worked up after the incident with Steve you had forgotten to eat something more than a few handfuls of popcorn. Downstairs was more quiet than usual, you couldn’t hear soft metal music coming from the garage or Eddies light humming. You assumed maybe he had gone out for the night.

     Until he scared the shit out of you sitting at the kitchen table, silently. He looked upset, nursing a glass of amber liquid in his hand.

“Holy fuck you scared me, warn a woman, jeez!” you say, sounding a little more like your normal self when your alone with him. Usually, Eddie would retort with a smart-ass remark, but instead you got silence and a slight sad smile on his face. You sense he’s not in the mood, so you move farther into the kitchen to grab yourself an iced tea from the fridge and make yourself a sandwich.

It was usually never this awkward between the two of you, it broke your heart a bit. You just lost Steve and now it felt like you were losing Eddie too.

“Did he kiss you or did you kiss him?” he asked quietly.

You jumped a little not expecting him to speak. Trying to word things very carefully so there was no confusion.

“He kissed me and then I kissed him back, and then he broke off the kiss and told me to leave.” You sigh sadly and take a big gulp of your iced tea.

“Idiot.” he muttered under his breath.

You thought that’s what you heard but you didn’t know for certain.

“What?” you question.

“I said he’s an idiot.” he said a bit louder for you to hear clearly.

That made your aching heart flutter inside your chest. Men are impossible to read.

“Oh.” you murmur, not really sure what to say.

“He’s an idiot because I’d never let a girl like you go,” he says calmly.

You heart could beat outside of your chest right now, his words set your skin on fire. But you were simultaneously hit with overwhelming guilt. Violet. Your best friend. The one sleeping soundly upstairs who would never do anything to hurt you.

“Yeah, but there’s a lot more at stake here,” You say trying to tread lightly.

He abruptly pushes out of his chair and heads to the garage door. “Yeah I know.” he says, sounding a mix between disappointed and angry.

You could feel a new rush of tears welling in your eyes, not only did you lose Steve today, but you were going to lose Eddie too. Two out of your three safe spaces, gone in one day. You felt so small, like you were free falling and you couldn’t grab anything to save yourself.

“What do you want from me Eddie?” you say defeated, barely above a whisper.

Eddie stops at your words, opening up the door to the garage, so close to freedom. His eyes now soft, seeing the state of you. “Nothing sweetheart, I want nothing from you.”

You just nod at his words, slouching your shoulders trying to protect your broken heart. Willing yourself to accept the fact that you lost both of them today, and there’s nothing that you can do to change it. You look at the floor, watching your tears slowly cloud your vision. You just hoped he left the room before you start actually crying.

Then you hear the garage door shut and feel the last of your heart shatter with it. You look up to confirm what your heart already knew, that Eddie was gone.

But where a closed door should be, showed the outline of Eddie standing in front of a closed door. You tried to blink away the tears, to try and figure out if you were seeing things correctly. The look on Eddies face was between a mixture of pain and confliction, his fists squeezed at his sides.

“Fuck it.” is the last thing you hear him say before he takes long strides over to you in the kitchen. Now right in front of you he cradles your face in his hands and kisses you firmly. You wrap your arms around his neck, forcing him to stay. His calloused hands wiping away your tears. You moan into his touch, opening your mouth and allowing his tongue to dance with yours. He kisses you with such passion, showing you with actions he what couldn’t say with his words. You push him impossibly closer to you, willing the two of you to meld into one if that what it took, not letting him have the chance to leave you. He takes that as an invitation to lift you up and put you on the ledge of the kitchen counter. Your legs caging him in on either side of his body.

“Please don’t go.” you mutter wetly between kisses. Eddie moves from your mouth and leaves kisses from the edges of your wet eyes to a part on your neck that made your skin irrupt in goosebumps.

“Never baby, m not goin anywhere I promise.” he reassures nuzzling his nose against a sweet spot on your neck. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Feeling a little better than you did a minute ago. Kissing Eddie made every other rational thought cease to exist in your brain. Just you, and Eddie, your bodies moving in tandem with each other. Harmony.

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[binsito]

persistent

pairing: bang chan x fem reader

genre: fratboy!chan, pining

word count: 1.9k

rating: mature, includes: unprotected sex, titty fucking, swearing, mentions of alcohol and consumption, mentions of smoking and thr*wing up bc of alcohol, little bit of oral (f & m receiving), fingering, little bit of a cumshot, chan cums inside (sorry it's the breeding kink in me), reader flashes chan but it's welcomed bc he likes her

chan was so tired of you playing hard to get, it had been a full semester of him pining after you hopelessly. 

he did literally everything to get your attention. from the corny things such as dropping a pen under your desk (he wasn’t trying to be a pervert but he definitely got a peak under your skirt), to being painfully good at beer pong to impress you.

he was so used to girls flocking around him, throwing themselves at his feet and dying to fuck him. so why were you so difficult? and why was he so persistent in chasing you? he had first met you in class during the summer semester, he had to take a course during break and he was dreading it - that was until he saw you sitting in class across from him.

he thought you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen on campus. were you new? he had never seen you before. he tried small talking, asking you about class or the homework and once he grew a pair, he finally invited you to one of his silly little fraternity parties. you showed up but were instantly turned off by the crowd. you thought it was funny how girls were idolizing these mediocre men that were chugging beer and being loud. he spotted you but you seemed unamused. you weren’t really in the market for a frat boyfriend. before he had a chance to catch up to you, you had started walking to the door and he was tugged away by his buddies. you assumed he would stop pursuing you after that night but you were oh so wrong.. it only fueled his desire for you even more. you figured it was some type of ego thing, maybe no one had turned him down before? maybe he was so used to expecting sex from women? you found it absolutely hilarious. he was hopeless, you thought. he couldn’t be serious about this.

the blatant flirting was laughable, he was horrible at it. bad pick up line after bad pick up line. you were absolutely sick of him (you weren’t, you were throughly amused). he’d try to convince you to help him study, but you knew damn well studying would be the last thing on his mind if you were to spend time alone with him in a room for hours. he was losing his head over you, growing so frustrated. if only you’d give him a single chance. 

he would try following you out of class, seeing you were headed towards the cafe to grab a coffee. he’d offer to pay for your drink which only earned him a teasing smile and a soft “thanks, chan.” what the fuck did he have to do to get you to want him back?

it was now two months of his stupid antics, at least his determination was kind of sexy. you couldn’t lie, he was a pretty attractive guy, but you just assumed it would be one and done with him and you had too much dignity to tussle in the sheets with a frattie. besides, seeing him struggle was a source of entertainment for you. why stop when seeing him go crazy over you was so enthralling and humorous? his friends encouraged him to get a fucking grip and find another girl, but his mind was already set on you. he was pathetic.

but the last thing he expected was to see you show up to his latest party. it was now the start of the fall semester and the frat house was absolutely packed. freshmen had rushed the placed to get their hands on some free drinks, meet people and have a dip in the pool. there was barely any arm space between people, bodies meshing as they danced to the loud music, chan was on top of a makeshift stage, holding a microphone and singing drunkenly as lights flashed through the place. solo cup in his hand as he swayed to the music. but even through the haze, he was still able to pick you out. suddenly feeling self conscious and passing the microphone to whoever was next to him. he jumped off and basically shoved people out of his way, attempting to get to you as fast as possible before you slipped away.

you waited until he was close enough to see you were making your way to the stairs, quickly following after you. the party was downstairs so there was barely anyone up on the second floor except for people hurling or smoking. “baby girl wait-“ he tried calling out but you had made your way into an empty room, of course he walked in after you.

and then he’s faced with you. you’re staring right at him, eyes locked on him as you sported a flirty smile. god, you looked so stunning, cropped white baby tee accentuating your tits so perfectly. low rise baggy jeans with your hair up - you were totally his dream girl, he just had to have you.

“what are you doing here? i-i didn’t think you’d be here?” he says, eyes wide as he watches you.

and his dick could fucking cry, he had to be hallucinating. there was no way this was reality. was he black out drunk?

because without even caring to respond to him, you had lifted up your tee slowly, the fabric running against your nipples as you flashed him your supple boobs, slightly bouncing at their release.

his breath catches in his throat, he was deemed speechless, not daring to peel his eyes away because this was something from his wildest dreams. tits on display for him to ogle at. was he seeing shit or were they pierced? how was he even supposed to react? the solo cup in his hand shaking as his hand trembled, almost making a mess on himself.

he opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. you save him the trouble and completely take your shirt off. walking towards him and kneeling in front of him. “let me see that cock of yours, channie..” you said as you cupped his erection, the music faintly buzzing in his ears as you rubbed him through his jeans.

he would be insane to pass up on this opportunity, quickly dropping his pants along with his boxers and letting it pool by his feet. cock springing out and twitching. it was so cute how painfully hard he was, precum bubbling at his tip. you spat on his cock, stroking it a few times as you giggled at the whimpers that left his pretty mouth. he was so weak for you, chugging the last few sips left in his solo cup and tossing it into the abyss of the messy room before trying to entangle his fingers in your soft hair. “nuh uh.. hands off, silly..” you scolded him with a smile. he quickly dropped his hands from your hair and brought them up behind his head, interlocking his fingers and kicking his head back into it. 

the way you were so casual about ruining him was making his knees buckle, eyes on him as you pressed his cock between your tits, bouncing them up and down his length. he could die right then and there and have zero complaints. sticking your tongue to let his cock come in contact with it whenever it poked from in between your chest. he could barely think, he didn’t want to close his eyes, wanted to imprint this in his memories forever. he was fighting for his life to not cum but it just felt so damn good.

“f-fuck baby.. w-why do you tease me so much.. i-it’s not fair..” he whines

you stop moving your tits on him briefly to give his tip a suck, one that pulls a loud moan from him. your mouth was so sweet and warm, he was hoping you’d let him fuck it later but he didn’t want to get ahead of himself. he wasn’t greedy, whatever you gave him right now, he would take.

“i liked watching you squirm.. you’re so needy..” you said as you planted a kiss on his cock. you wanted to taste him, pumping him vigorously with your breasts while you kept his tip in your mouth, moaning and feeling his cock twitch. he couldn’t hold it anymore, spurting his cum in your mouth and trying to stop himself but it was too late.

you popped him out of your mouth after you got a taste, letting the rest drip on your chest, leaving you all messy.  he never knew how much he needed the sight of you covered in his cum before until now. he was still hard, cockhead screaming red, dying to plunge into you and destroy your sweet pussy.

you got up and sat on the end of the bed, discarding the rest of your clothes and laying back, pressing your legs to your chest to let him get a look at your slick cunt. you were sopping and he just needed a taste. he rushed over and quickly got between your legs, licking two fingers and then rubbing you with them, he knew your moans would sound pretty, the way you heaved and clenched around nothing. he leaned down to lick a stripe in between your folds, just as he expected - you tasted perfect.

he then brings his fingers down and begins scissoring you open for him. “gonna stretch you out kay? g-gonna fuck you open with my fingers. want your pretty cunt to be able to take my cock..” but even as he said that, his voice faltered, he was barely able to contain himself, moaning at your own pleasure. he was enjoying the way you drenched his fingers, how they sucked him in greedily. your walls were so soft, he couldn't wait to shove his cock into you, have the warmth envelope him and milk him dry.

“c-cock channie.. please my god.. j-just fucking give it to me already.” you whined, having had enough of his fingers. you wanted him, the real deal. his thick cock that was making your mouth water. you were losing patience and now you finally knew how he felt.

he chuckles to himself at your desperation, he thought you’d never ask! quickly pulling away and giving himself a few pumps before lining himself up, collecting some of your slick with his cockhead before pressing in, bottoming out so easily because you were so incredibly turned on.

the way you wrapped around him and pulled him close, the way you brought his face to yours and sloppily made out with him while he bucked into you was making him crumble. strong arms holding your legs apart and folding them into you, wanting to reach as deep as he possibly could. cock kissing your cervix so perfectly you could feel tears brimming in your eyes. it was a shame how perfectly his cock fit inside you, you were starting to regret making him wait so long for you. 

the bed rattled but no one was going to hear, the music was still making the house shake. the fact that no one was aware of your little rendevouz was making you reach your peak. white building up in your tummy as you gripped chan’s bicep, moaning when you felt your orgasm wash over you, chan quickly chasing another one. stilling his hips in you and pumping you full of his cum as he groaned out. his body was shiny with sweat and his curls stuck to his forehead. “w-we fucking have to do this again..” he begs “please skip class next tuesday and let me fuck you silly.. i have so much to give you” he laughs, suddenly feeling so shy and so aware of what had just happened. he finally got want he wanted, but he still wanted more. he was hoping this would be an exclusive reoccurring thing. maybe he’d finally be able to take you on a date?

please refrain from reposting, modifying, translating, copying or stealing my work. - © binsito

[suicidedance]

BUCK-TICK Q&A (1987)

Source: Limited_Night_ on X

Q1: Who is your family comprised of?

Sakurai: Mother, older brother, me, dog and two cats.

Imai: Grandma, dad, mom, aunt, younger brother, younger sister.

Hoshino: Father, mother, younger sister, older brother.

Higuchi: Father, older sister and older brother.

Yagami: Father, older sister, niece, younger brother.

Q2: Date and place of birth

Sakurai: March 7, 1966. Fujioka City, Gunma Prefecture.

Imai: October 21, 1965. Takasaki Hospital.

Hoshino: June 16, 1961. Fujioka General Hospital. 

Higuchi: January 24, 1967. Takasaki.

Yagami: August 19, 1962. Takasaki.

Q3: What are you called by everyone? Why is that?

Sakurai: Acchan, Atsushi. Why?

Imai: Imai. I’m Imai so that’s why.

Hoshino: Hide. Because I’m Hidehiko.

Higuchi: Yuuta. When I was a child, I was called Yuutan, which was shortened to Yuuta.

Yagami: Anii (big brother) by the other members because I’m older. (He’s U-TA’s older brother)

Q4: Height, weight, shoe size, eyesight

Sakurai: 177 cm, 57 kg, 26 cm. 1.5 on the right, 1.2 on the left.

Imai: 174 cm, 58 kg, 26 cm. 1.2 on the right and 1.2 on the left, I think.

Hoshino: 179 cm, 60 kg, 27 cm. 1.5 and 1.5.

Higuchi: 167 cm, 48 kg, 25 cm. 0.9 on the right, 1.2 on the left.

Yagami: 170 cm, 48 kg, 25 cm. 1.5. 

Q5: Favorite foods

Sakurai: Sushi (toro ebi), chahan, corn soup.

Imai: Tempura udon, katsu curry, kimchi, reba nira, asparagus, burger with pickles, generic chips, miso soup, nametake, shiokara, oyster, sashimi, sushi, yakiniku, ham and eggs, natto, sea urchin, tororo, watermelon, turbo sazae.

Hoshino: Yakiniku, salad, ramen, pudding.

Higuchi: Vegetables.

Yagami: Pudding.

Q6: Foods you dislike

Sakurai: Eggplant, shellfish, scallion, shiitake mushrooms, bamboo shoots.

Imai: None.

Hoshino: Egg yolk.

Higuchi: Jellyfish.

Yagami: Liver.

Q7: What you want the most right now

Sakurai: Everything in this world.

Imai: Good songs.

Hoshino: Love, money.

Higuchi: Bass.

Yagami: Money. (Because I think I’ll become rich)

Q8: Blood type and self-analysis

Sakurai: Type O.

Imai: Type O. Extremely optimistic. My handwriting is messy, but I’m second rank in Japanese calligraphy.

Hoshino: Type A. Quiet, sometimes I’m stupid so I can’t grasp things.

Higuchi: Type A. Humble.

Yagami: Type A. Genius!!

Q9: What do you think you’ll be doing in five years?

Sakurai: Doing lives.

Imai: Playing guitar in BUCK-TICK and doing my best.

Hoshino: I think I’ll become a celebrity.

Higuchi: I don’t know.

Yagami: I’ll become a professional top-class musician.

Q10: What does manliness mean to you?

Sakurai: Be kind to the weak, be tough to the strong. Always be cool.

Imai: There’s no such thing.

Hoshino: Being strong and being kind.

Higuchi: Men are tough.

Yagami: Be strong and kind.

Q11: A movie that recently moved me.

Sakurai: Oedipus No Yaiba.

Imai: I watched Friday the 13th Part 6 on video. That idiot Jason needs to be punished once and for all!

Hoshino: I haven’t watched any movies recently.

Higuchi: Hachiko Monogatari.

Yagami: Back to the Future. (I like time travel stuff)

Q12: A person you aspire to be like

Sakurai: My ideal self.

Imai: There isn’t one.

Hoshino: John Lennon.

Higuchi: There isn’t one.

Yagami: Eikichi Yazawa.

Q13: Please tell us the name of the celebrity who is closest to your ideal woman

Sakurai: [Didn’t provide an answer]

Imai: Probably Miss Oginome Yoko .

Hoshino: Miss Yumi Aso .

Higuchi: Yappy, Nori-P, Skippy, Noriko Sakai. [Nori-P was Noriko Sakai’s nickname]

Yagami: Kaori Torii .

Q14: What was the first record you ever bought?

Sakurai: Maybe Carol?

Imai: «Technopolis» by Yellow Magic Orchestra.

Hoshino: Beatles. (He was tricked by his brother)

Higuchi: I bought a Beatles record for my late brother for his birthday.

Yagami: «Let it be» by The Beatles. (In 2nd grade of elementary school)

Q15: What was your first impression when you met the members?

Sakurai: Imai → Weird!

                Hide → What a superficial guy.

                Yuta → This bastard.

                Anii → Is he okay?

Imai: You should never judge someone based on first impressions.

Hoshino: Sakurai → Scary but interesting.

                 Imai → The yellow-green Converse are impressive.

                 Higuchi → Caring guy.

                 Yagami Toll → Rock n Roller.

Higuchi: Hide → A tall guy.

                Imai → Quiet guy.

                Acchan → Scary guy.

                Brother → I don’t really know.

Yagami: Imai → A silent and mysterious guy.

                Hide → A good young man.

                Sakurai → Seems like a disciplined guy.

                U-TA → Cute baby.

Q16: What do you think is your role in the band?

Sakurai: A person who can get other members on board. Someone who expresses a variety of things.

Imai: Guitar man.

Hoshino: People say I’m someone who makes things run smoothly.

Higuchi: A talkative person.

Yagami: A man of high spirits.

Q17: Teach us how to flirt with a girl!

Sakurai: Don’t flirt.

Imai: Please teach me how to flirt with a girl!

Hoshino: I think it would be good to be honest.

Higuchi: I’m not good at that.

Yagami: I don’t know how to flirt.

Q18: Have you ever cried because of love?

Sakurai: I have.

Imai: I haven’t.

Hoshino: I cried when I was heartbroken.

Higuchi: I have.

Yagami: I have.

Q19: Favorite word or phrase

Sakurai: Atsushi, come out!

Imai: Freedom.

Hoshino: A boy’s heart.

Higuchi: The characters that aren’t difficult. [Japanese characters]

Yagami: Love saves the Earth. The BUCK-TICK Phenomenon.

Q20: What kind of person you cannot tolerate?

Sakurai: A frivolous person. Someone who acts overly familiar with you.

Imai: Stubborn and insincere people. 

Hoshino: Liars.

Higuchi: A selfish person.

Yagami: The guy who sold a BUCK-TICK sample copy to a second-hand record store before it was released. If we ever find him, we’ll beat him up.

Q21: What do you not want a girl to do?

Sakurai: Cheat.

Imai: Be fake. Murder, robbery.

Hoshino: Cheat.

Higuchi: I don’t want her to cry.

Yagami: Don't talk like a man!!

Q22: If you were a plant, what would you be? Why?

Sakurai: A black rose. You wouldn't think of them as morning glories or sunflowers, right?

Imai: A pansy. Yellow around the edges and black towards the root.

Hoshino: Bonsai. Because that's what people often say.

Higuchi: I don’t know.

Yagami: Pineapple. (Hairstyle)

Q23: What is your favorite number and why?

Sakurai: Odd numbers.

Imai: 4. I just like it.

Hoshino: 2. For all six years of elementary school, I always came in second place at sports day.

Higuchi: 1. Because it’s the first one.

Yagami: 3. It’s Nagasaki, Nagashima.

Q24: Someone you would like to meet and talk to

Sakurai: Me from tomorrow.

Imai: Kiyoshiro Imawano, Beat Takeshi, John Lydon.

Hoshino: John Lennon.

Higuchi: Nori-P. [Noriko Sakai]

Yagami: Yuming. [Yumi Matsutoya]

Q25: Any final words!

Sakurai: Let’s make some noise together again!

Imai: We’ll keep on doing our best, so please come to our live show.

Hoshino: BUCK-TICK is immortal.

Higuchi: I’m Yuta.

Yagami: I think the genius group BUCK-TICK looked great at Madison Square Garden!