#big kiss to whoever submitted this one

[urfavisananimegirl]

Can you do Jean from Guts and Blackpowder please!1

Jean (Guts & Blackpowder) is an Anime Girl!

[hgfictionwriter]

High Definition

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie travels a lot and if she can’t have you with her, she wants the next best thing, some high def photos and videos of you. Jessie gets carried away as she starts to build her collection.

Warning: Smut. Masturbation, strapping, rough sex, mentions of breeding (sorry folks!). And language, of course.

A/N: LOVED this request. Thank you so much to whoever submitted it. Hope you all enjoy.

“Mmm.” You moaned into your kiss with Jessie as you ran your hands through her wavy hair. She moved a leg upwards, nudging yours further apart. You obliged with a small chuckle and wrapped them around her.

Jessie tilted her head and began kissing you deeper. Her hips subconsciously rolled against you as she felt herself growing wetter as you two carried on.

“How much do you love me?” Jessie asked between kisses, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

You kissed her again and caressed her cheek. “A lot. Why?”

“Enough to try something for me?” Jessie continued as she kissed along your jawline.

“Mmm, such as what?” You asked a smile in your voice.

Jessie pulled back enough to look you in your eyes. “I want to take pictures of you. And if you’re okay with it, I’d love to record you as well.”

You paused as you processed her request. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t that. She held your gaze as she awaited your response. You were about to open your mouth when she spoke up.

“I know that’s a big ask. But, I’m away so much it would be so amazing to have that kind of thing with me. I know privacy and security is probably a huge concern - I have a whole plan for how I can make sure I am the only one who ever, ever sees it. And if you ever want me to get rid of it, I’ll delete everything - no questions asked.”

“Jess.” You said her name as you thumbed her rosy cheek. “I trust you. I know you wouldn’t be flippant or careless about this.” You took a small breath. “Sure. Okay. Let’s do it.”

Her eyes lit up and a wide smile crossed her freckled face.

“For real?”

“Yeah,” you assured her, though you felt a blush start to form. “Now hurry up before I change my mind.”

“We don’t have to if-”

You held a finger up to her lips. “It’s okay, babe. I want to. But, you have to tell me what you want. I’ve never done this before.”

Jessie beamed again and she kissed you eagerly.

“Me neither. But I’ve thought about it more than I care to admit, so, don’t worry. I’ll direct you,” she finished with a wink.

“Okay, stud,” you said with a roll of your eyes as you playfully shoved against her shoulders.

Jessie began kissing you again and soon she had lifted your shirt over your head and discarded it. She sat back on her heels momentarily before hopping off of the bed and retrieving her phone.

“This is really happening, isn’t it?” You asked, suddenly nervous and self-consciously wrapping an arm across your chest even though you still donned your bra.

“Don’t worry, you look stunning. Always,” Jessie assured you. “And honestly, if you feel uncomfortable and want to stop at any point. Just say so.”

“Okay,” you nodded. You let out a small breath. “I’m ready - what do you want?”

Jessie stood up on the bed, now towering over you phone in hand.

“Okay, put your arms behind you and lean back. Look up at me,” she instructed. You did as you were told. “Mm. You look gorgeous, baby. Okay, now tuck your legs under you - yeah, like that.” She took a couple more pictures.

“You’re a natural,” she said with a wink. “Okay, take your bra off.”

“Oh gosh,” you said though you took it off and tossed it aside. You instinctively cupped your breasts and looked up at her.

“Oh fuck,” Jessie said as she began taking more pictures. A shiver went through her as you bit your lip and pushed your breasts together. “That’s perfect.”

“Yeah? I wish they were your hands,” you told her with a smirk. She dropped down onto the bed and kissed you.

“All in good time,” she promised before sitting back. “Okay, can you lean back into the pillows this time? And, here,” she moved with you and leaned down, kissing your stomach, trailing kisses downward until she got to the waistband of your jeans. She gave your skin a short lick and she reached up to undo them until she could see your underwear. She smiled and sat back taking another photo.

“Kay.” She looked at you, studying you for a moment before continuing. “I want you to put your hand down your pants and touch yourself.”

You couldn’t help the short laugh that came from you and your cheeks began to burn.

“It’s okay, baby,” she told you soothingly. “I’ll help.” She climbed up your body and kissed you deeply as she laced your fingers together and brought your hand to your pants. She unlaced them and laid her hand on top of yours before guiding your hand under the band of your panties and exploring downward. She brought your hand to your clit and used your fingers to circle and then slip through your folds. You moaned and your head fell further back into the pillows.

“Just like that, baby,” she whispered as she pulled back and retrieved her phone once more. She chewed the inside of her lip as you spread your legs and slowly ground your hips up and down into your hand, your eyes closed. “Christ, you’re so hot,” Jessie praised as she took photos.

“Mmm, Jess,” you moaned, eyes still closed as you played with your clit and rolled your hips.

“Oh fuck, babe,” Jessie breathed, her own core pulsing with arousal now. She didn’t realize how her breathing had both quickened and deepened as she continued to photograph you.

“I need to see more of you,” she went on, lust heavy in her voice. You opened your eyes to look at her and she reached up and began shimmying your pants down your legs. “Mmm,” she voiced as she tossed them aside and leaned forward, her hands on your thighs as she kissed her way up towards your core. She could see how soaked your panties were and your scent was driving her wild.

“Mmm, Jess,” you repeated, your voice more desperate this time. You bit your lip at the growl she let out.

“I want to film you this time,” Jessie told you as sat back and held up her phone again. She didn’t hit record until she got a nod of affirmation out of you.

You dipped your fingers down through your wet folds again, tracing around your entrance before retreating back up to circle your clit.

“Jessie,” you breathed.

“Yes, baby girl,” she responded as she filmed you, her jaw slack as she watched you work.

“Do you know how wet you make me?”

Jessie grunted. “Let’s see, baby girl,” she said as she reached out with her free hand and moved your panties aside to see your slick entrance. “Fuck,” she breathed in reverence as she dipped two fingers inside, pulling a high moan out of you as your hips lifted to follow her fingers. “You’re so gorgeous.” Jessie’s jaw fell further as you pushed two fingers in alongside hers, stretching you out. “Oh my god,” she breathed.

It took concerted effort for Jessie to keep you in frame as her eyes were fixated on your core. She shook out her head and withdrew her fingers to tug at the waistband of your underwear.

“I want to see you fully,” she told you as she sat back to get your face into frame again. You gave her an impish smirk and lifted your hips off the mattress to remove your panties.

You traced your fingers through your folds once more, now totally exposed. “See what you do to me?” You asked.

Jessie groaned deep in her throat as you dipped your fingers back inside of you and withdrew them, your cum glistening on your fingers. The wet sounds that came from each movement had Jessie aching between her legs.

She continued to film you while you softly moaned as you played with your clit. It took concerted effort for Jessie to not start feeling herself up and relieve at least some of her tension.

She noticed you quickening your pace and ended the video, setting down her phone right away and walking over to her nightstand.

She grinned when you tilted your head to follow her with your gaze, but you didn’t slow or falter your movements. Your body slowly gyrated, hips rocking into your hand and head pushing into the pillows behind you as you continued to please yourself and watch her.

“Let me help you,” Jessie announced as she slipped on her harness. You gave her an appreciative look as she climbed back onto the bed and retrieved her phone once again. Your expression turned curious.

“Are you going to film this too?” You asked, your voice hitching as a jolt of pleasure went through you.

“If you’re okay with it,” Jessie answered as she reached down and overtook your fingers, rubbing your clit for you instead. You released a loud moan and you buried your head into the pillows, eyes fluttering shut as she took over. She smirked. “I need a ‘yes’, baby.”

“Yes,” you nearly gasped, your hands urgently clutching the sheets as Jessie dipped a couple of fingers inside again. You moaned once more, but eventually managed to open your eyes to look at her. “How are you going to do it?”

Jessie curled her fingers inside of you as she withdrew before pushing them back in. She bit back a smile as you writhed under her touch. “As much as I’d love to see your face, I think I’ll have the most control if I’m behind you and you’re on your hands and knees.”

You laughed through a moan and gave her an affectionate look. “Most control in more ways than one.”

Jessie’s smirk turned a bit coy for a second before she shrugged and gave you a nod. “I promise you’ll enjoy it.” She withdrew her fingers and sat back.

You returned her smirk as you rose up and turned over so you were on your knees in front of her. “You know I’ll enjoy it.” You looked over your shoulder at her. “Why don’t you set the phone up on a stand of some kind? I want footage, too, but of us, not just me.” Jessie blushed.

“That’ll be the next stage, and for another time,” she said. She knew it wasn’t fair that she was filming you and she, herself, not being on camera, but she was going to have to work her way up to that.

“Mmm,” Jessie hummed, momentarily distracted as she grabbed your ass and kneaded it with her hand. She started rocking against you, the strap rubbing your clit and sliding through your folds. “You ready?”

You dropped down onto your forearms, your back arching before her, and you shifted your hips back to meet her, grinding yourself on her strap. “I’m all yours.”

Jessie drew her bottom lip between her teeth, a wide smile tugged at her mouth. She held up her phone so her torso, the strap and you were in view.

“Okay, here we go.” She hit record.

She ran the strap up and down your slick folds a few more times, relishing the way you were sensually grinding against it.

“Look at how gorgeous you are,” Jessie said, mouth slightly agape as she took you in. She wasn’t really intending to speak during these videos, but she couldn’t help it. You brought it out of her and seeing you like this made her feel intoxicated.

“Mm, stop teasing me, babe. I want you inside,” you pleaded as your leaned your shoulders further down, your arms stretching out and palming the bed.

“Mm, fuck,” she voiced as she lined herself up at your entrance. “Anything for you, babe,”

She shifted her hips forward and watched as the strap slowly entered you. Your drawn out moan was like a siren call to her.

She laid a hand on your hip as she rest inside of you, the strap as deep as it could go. She waited a moment before slowly drawing her hips back until just the tip was stretching you out. She tilted the phone a bit to fully capture how you were stretched tight around her, your entrance gripping her as if urging her not to pull out.

“Mm. Can’t wait to show you how good you stretch for me. How full you are with me inside you,” Jessie said, her voice hoarse with lust. You let out a needy moan, turned on by her narration. Jessie’s jaw hitched as she saw you flex around her, trying to draw her back in.

“You are so sexy,” Jessie said as she sunk in again to the hilt, slightly faster this time. She reached forward and ran a hand along the curve of your back, waiting a moment before withdrawing once more.

She continued like this for several more strokes. Taking her time to appreciate the different views and angles as she pleasured you. You mewled as she patiently fucked you, clenching and releasing the covers as she painstakingly slowly helped you ascend your peak.

“You’re so wanting, baby,” Jessie teased, knowing fully well what you needed.

“Baby, please. I need more,” you whined as you pushed your hips back into her, urging her to go faster and harder.

“Hold on, Princess,” she said with a soft chuckle. “Don’t worry, I’ll have you cumming around my cock in no time.”

Jessie had really not been planning on this being part of the audio. But, hey, this is what sex was like with you two. She just had to be extremely sure this video never ever went beyond her own possession.

Jessie kneaded your ass again, grinding her teeth as she did so. She gripped you so hard your skin flashed white and then red when she released you. She wasn’t going to be able to hold back for much longer either.

She ran a hand along your side and leaned forward to cup your breast, massaging it in time with her slow strokes. She adored the way you arched your back, pushing your chest into her hand as she did so.

She pinched your nipple, drawing a gasp out of you before she leaned back once more. She watched on the screen as the strap pulled out of you, glistening with cum, before sliding back inside.

Jessie picked up her pace, and from the way your moans grew louder, you were more than ready. The sounds of her strap moving in and out of you filled the room and caused her to grow even wetter.

Your arms were outstretched in front of you, your head nearly resting on the bed and you began throwing your hips back to meet Jessie’s thrusts. The sound of your skin slapping against hers now accompanied the wet sounds of the strap penetrating you.

Lust started to really take over for Jessie now. Her pace increased even further and she was starting to lose control as she grew even more transfixed on you.

She gripped your hips with her free hand and shifted so she planted a foot next to you, now only on one knee and bringing her hips further forward. This new angle let her generate greater force and leverage each stroke and sink even deeper inside of you.

Sharp, high pitched moans fell from your lips with each renewed thrust and Jessie grunted from both exertion and arousal. You looked incredible bouncing back on her cock like this. A loud clap echoed through the room as she slapped your ass. You let out your most heady moan yet as you threw your head back.

Jessie didn’t waste her opportunity and she reached out and grabbed your hair, tugging your head back as she continue to rail you from behind.

Wild, unhinged moans rose from your throat as Jessie pulled at you and hammered herself inside of you.

“You like that, babe?” She asked through grit teeth. “You like when I make you mine like this?”

“Yes,” you managed to say, your voice breathy and high with need. “I love when you make me yours. You fill me and fuck me so good.”

“I love the way you groan for me,” Jessie grunted as she continued her relentless pace. The way you were taking her strap right now, the sounds you were making, the way you moved, everything, had Jessie teetering on the edge without you ever laying a finger on her.

“Fuck it,” she muttered as she dropped the phone onto the bed and released your hair to reach down with both hands and grab your wrists. She pulled your arms behind you and she leaned back again, pulling you with her, lifting you and suspending your upper body off the mattress as she continued to pound into you. Holding you like this anchored her to this spot and she fucked you senseless.

“You’re absolutely perfect. God, what I wouldn’t give to feel you around me. I’d never last.” She said, her voice shuddering with each movement.

“Oh god, Jess,” you moaned. “I wish you could cum inside me.”

“Fuck,” Jessie grunted, feeling a tidal wave of desire crash over her. She released your arms and wrapped her arms around your waist as she sat back on her heels, holding you now in her lap as she rut into you.

You reached down immediately to grip her forearms as you sought contact as she bounced you up and down on her cock. She reached down with one hand and began to rub your clit, drawing a cry out of you.

Jessie let out a light huff and kissed your back.

“Baby girl. You’re lucky I can’t cum inside you.”

You let out a small huff of your own, your head thrown back as you rode her.

“You act like I don’t want to be knocked up by you.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jessie said through gritted teeth as she thrust into you harder. “You’re so sexy. Imagine how good you’d look carrying my baby.”

“Oh God, Jess,” you cried louder this time, your arousal dripping far beyond the strap by now and onto Jessie. “Give it to me. Give me your baby.”

Jessie let out a guttural moan and tilted you both forward, her cradling you until you were on your stomach on the bed, her still deep inside of you.

Before you could register anything further, Jessie pushed herself off of your back, planking over you, just the tip of her strap inside of you now. The next second her hips slammed down into you and she was soon thrusting into you repeatedly with an expert roll of her hips, sending unrelenting waves of pleasure through you with every stroke.

You cried as your orgasm swept over you. You clawed at the bed, your whole body writhing as your climax went through every fibre of you, from your toes to your fingertips, to your head. Jessie didn’t miss a beat and continued to pump into you, driving you further into the mattress.

Your vision was white as you rode the waves and Jessie prolonged your orgasm. As your moans and whimpers ceased, she slowed her strokes until she simply lay on top of you, buried inside.

“I love you so much,” Jessie panted, breath hot against your ear. She shifted her weight so she wasn’t fully on top of you, but made a point to not pull out.

“I love you, too,” you breathed, unable to open your eyes yet as you tried to catch your breath.

You both lay there in silence for several seconds before Jessie suddenly jerked upwards.

“Oh shit,” she said, her head swivelling left and right as she searched the bed. When her eyes landed on her discarded phone she carefully lifted herself out and off of you before she snatched it up. “Oh fuck,” she laughed, seeing it was still recording and she quickly tapped the button again to stop.

You managed to lift your head to peer over at her curiously. Your eyebrows lifted as the realization hit you.

“Oh my god. I forgot,” you told her, a dazed smile forming on your face.

“I did for a moment, too,” Jessie laughed. She glanced at you as she held the phone tentatively in her hand. “I’m afraid to play it.”

She hit play on a random part of the video anyway and the room immediately filled with moaning, heavy breathing and other lewd sounds. She immediately went beet red and turned it off as she looked at you. You stared at each other wordlessly for a second before both dissolving into laughter.

“Okay.” Jessie eventually said, face still radiating heat. “I’m going to have to be extra sure to never ever open this video unless I have earbuds in.”

You gave her a series of exaggerated nods. “And double check what your Bluetooth is connected to.” Jessie raised her eyebrows even higher.

“That said,” she went on. “You look fucking stunning.”

[nats-bottom]

NR - I Never Get Jealous

Summary: Natasha gets jealous over Reader dancing with other women.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol, jealousy

Notes: Sorry this took so long for me to write! I had some writer's block, but I'm back now!

I saw Fly Me to the Moon last night, and it is such a good movie! I highly recommend!

I also have accounts on Wattpad and AO3! The users there are @ paige_vers

Please give me requests! You can submit them here or on my insta, @ scarlettsoutset

ᨖᨖೱᨖ⧗ᨖⴵᨖ🕷️ᨖⴵᨖ⧗ᨖೱᨖᨖ

Natasha POV

I took another sip of my drink. Me and my girlfriend, y/n were at another one of Tony's parties. He threw parties all the time, most of the time for no reason. This party was no different. Just a party for no specific reason, with random people that none of us knew. 'Us' being the Avengers. We were all there because one, Tony made us all come, and two, there was no way we could sleep in the tower with all the loud music. 

I'm taken out of my thoughts when I feel a hand on my thigh and hear y/n say she's going to go dance. I give her a quick kiss and watch her as she walks off towards the dance floor. I move to the couch area, where a bunch of other Avengers are sitting. I sit down next to Steve, who's sitting next to Bucky. They each have a beer in hand, and are casually flirting with each other, but won't admit it. I start up a conversation with them, internally laughing every time one of them blushes at the other's comment. 

After a while, I get a glimpse of y/n on the dance floor, dancing with two other women, neither of whom I know. I feel the anger inside of me rising as I see y/n grinding on one of them. I watch her for a few minutes, when Steve waves his hand in front of my face. 

"Nat? Are you there Nat? Earth to Natasha!" he says trying to get my attention.

"What? Oh sorry. What's going on?" I ask.

"I just asked you how many pop tarts you think Thor will eat tonight. But clearly your mind is somewhere else. What's up?" 

"Oh, um, y/n is just dancing a little too much with some other women." I say as I feel the heat rising to my cheeks. 

"Ohhhh, I see. Someone's jealous." Bucky says with a smirk.

"No, I'm not jealous. I'm just, um, observing." I reply, not wanting to admit to my jealousy.

"Yes you definitely are. You should see your face." Steve says with a chuckle.

"Fine. I guess I am. And I'm going to go do something about it." I say as I get up and set down my drink on the table. I hear Bucky and Steve try to stop me, but I just ignore them and keep walking towards y/n. I squeeze through other people in the crowd and finally get to y/n. 

"Nat! Wanna da-" but before she can finish I pull her into me and give her a big kiss on the lips. She acts a little shocked at first, but then melts into the kiss. As I let go for air, she tries to hang on to the kiss a little longer. I keep my arms around her waist, hers around my neck. "What was that about?" She said with a smirk.

"I just didn't like how you were dancing with those other ladies." The other women had walked away by this point, leaving once they saw me glare at them. 

"Oh, is someone a little jealous?" y/n asks smugly, and drunkenly. 

"Jealous? Me? I never get jealous." I replied.

"Yeah. Sure. Uh-huh. I saw the look on your face as you came over here."

"I was not jealous. You can dance with whoever and I won't care." I say, trying to get her to believe me when I say that I'm not jealous.

"Then why'd you scare those other ladies off?"

"Because I want them to know that you're mine and mine only." I say in a deep voice. I pull her off the dance floor and to a couch in an area with the other Avengers. I sit down first and put her on my lap, putting my arms around her stomach. She rests her hands on mine and she leans back into my embrace. 

We talk with the other Avengers about random things, from Tony's newest project to how fast everyone thinks Pietro can run. I'm not really paying attention to the conversation though, all I can think of is y/n. How pretty she looks tonight, how she was dancing, and how I wished she danced with me like that. I move her hair aside, and start kissing her neck. She tilts her head to the other side a little after letting out a small, barely audible gasp. I start nibbling on her neck, making sure to leave a mark. I suck on the bite, then run my tongue over it. I move over to another spot, doing the same. I look over the marks I made, satisfied with it.

I move my hands to y/n's arms, rubbing them up and down. I whisper in her ear "you look so pretty, all marked up. Showing everyone else that you're all mine." I feel her squirm a little in my lap. "You like that don't you, pretty girl." I say, now playing with her hair. I nibble on her ear a little and I feel her shiver. "You just want everyone here to know that, don't you. You want everyone here to hear you scream my name." I hear her gasp, and see her nod ever so slightly. "Meet me in our room in 10 minutes." I whisper in her ear. She nods and excuses herself from the party, saying that she's tired and wants to go to bed. About five minutes later I excuse myself, explaining that I have an early day tomorrow. 

I leave the party and head to my room. I open the door to our shared room and see y/n there on the bed, clad in a matching lingerie set. I close the door behind me and walk up to her, smashing our lips together.

[mara-and-its-the-same]

yeah,,,, sad boy,,,,, anyway

I got this request in like february and then i lost it but it was on anon so i hope it finds whoever requested it even though i bet they don't remember, hey lovely! i LOVED your last post so i was wondering if i could submit a post? ive had this idea for awhile…. A JJ Maybank x kook!reader where JJ just keeps bringing up the fact that the reader and rafe used to have a fling and the reader just breaks down and asks JJ why he keeps bringing it up and JJ tells her its because he saw that Rafe still texts the reader and JJ like demands that the reader blocks Rafe. you can end it however you like! i just like a lot of angst lmao ❤️💋 It should be stated that i did get carried away and forgot a few things but I hope you enjoy <3 WC: 5k, not beta'd

“You’re staring.” You saw JJ looking at you from the other side of the small living room in the chateau. You’d been texting in your group chat with your friends from your old school, since some of them had switched to boarding schools and whatnot, but you caught him out of the corner of your eye.

“I’m not.”

“What are you doing then?”

“Admiring.”

You moved closer to the edge of the couch and made room for him. He jumped on next to you, nearly landing right on top of you. “You’re typing pretty fast. Who’re you talkin’ to?”

You learned in the last few months that you’d been together now that JJ was not the terribly jealous type in public. He was the first guy you’ve dated that understood that if you’re dating a hot girl, there’s no reason she should stop being a hot girl. If anything, he liked it more. He liked that everyone would look at you but you’d always be looking at him. The problem came whenever you took a second to look away. You both knew what it was like to feel insecure, like someone was leading you on for no reason, like there was no trust. 

“Just my friends from school.”

“What about?”

“They’re trying to plan something next Saturday.”

He made a face you couldn’t see but you could feel it from his cheek moving on your shoulder. “What?”

When you looked at him he tried to take a neutral expression. “We’re going out Saturday.”

“I know.” Your voice didn’t match his. He sounded rough and salty, you were smooth and sweet. “That’s why I said ‘they’re’ trying to. My Saturdays are yours.”

“Good.” He pushed up to kiss you then went out to see what Pope and John B were doing outside. 

Kiara had been watching from the kitchen with a curled lip and a raised brow, holding her cold bottle to her chest. She got you one before she came and sat where JJ had just been. “Possessive much?”

“It’s fine.” You dropped the sweetness and just sounded bored. 

“You see him every Saturday?”

“I see him every day. And I guess that includes the days my friends I haven’t seen in 6 months are back in.” You shrugged and rolled your head to the back of the couch after taking a drink. “It’s fine.”

“Why don’t you tell him you want to see them?”

Another shrug, “He’ll ask why I want to go out with some Kooks when I can be with you guys.”

“That’s ridiculous.” She stood up like she was going to walk right out and tell him you’re going, but you pulled her back by the elbow. “What?”

“I’ll talk to him later.”

“Promise?”

You nodded and locked your pinky with hers before going outside. 

***

As Saturday approached, your phone buzzed more and JJ got more…territorial. You put it back on do not disturb and set it down by your leg, the one he wasn’t next to, and went back to watching your feet dangle with the tide slowly rising and the wake of a boat every so often splashing your toes. Adding an occasional kick to watch the way it rippled. The sun was settling behind you like an over-ripe peach. Big and bleeding towards orange, it spilled into the water, sending little arcs of light swimming with every roll of water.

“Who’s going Saturday?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re friends are going out Saturday, which ones?”

“Oh, yeah. Um I don’t think you’d know most of them but like Sarah Cameron, maybe her brother, I don’t know though. Lizzie Callaghan, Riley, Jack. I forget who else.”

“You wanted to go out with Rafe Cameron?” It sounded ugly when he said it like that.

“I wanted to go out with my friends whether or not he was there. I told you I wasn’t going to go since we already made plans that day. It’s fine, we’re both happy with it, don’t worry about it.”

“You don’t seem very happy about it.” He pulled his legs up from the water and his heels left the almost grey old wood of the dock dark with salt water. He pulled his arms around his shins.You thought you’d get through without it being brought up, having spent another day together in the cut. He hated going to your house. Not that he hated your house, he hated how far it was from his, how it was further than distance, it was tax brackets away, worlds away. 

“I haven’t seen them in a while, I’d like to see them soon. I have plans that day, they’ll be back. It’s fine.” Your posture went to shit after you grabbed your phone. Not that it was the best before, when you were looking at the water, but now your arms weren’t holding you up so your back was curled like a shell. Just to check the time and if Sarah or Kie texted you.

“Yeah, cus I’m sure you never get to see Rafe.”

“Jesus Christ, Jay. I told you that we went on 3 dates four years ago,” you slammed the face of your phone on the dock next to you, not the best idea. “He is in college in Massachusetts! So yes, we “dated” when I was 14, and we stayed friendly because his sister is one of my best friends.” You stood up and grabbed your bag on the way, he hardly even moved, just craned his neck and let his view of you be blurred by the sun behind you. “Yes, I would like to see him, but he, and all my other friends, will be here for the whole summer, there’s more than enough time for me to see them any other non-Saturday.” 

“So you still talk?”

“Holy fuck.” You put a hand to your head and turned away for a second. 

“I’m just saying like, you’re my girlfriend. It’s not impossible to think that maybe I don’t want you hanging around with that kind of asshole.”

“What is ‘that kind of asshole’?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I feel like I don’t.”

“I mean he was a classist prick to me and all my friends my whole life,” he finally stood up now, and moved so that he blocked the sun from your eyes.

“When he was fucking 12!”

“What about last year when he crashed me and John B’s party at the boneyard? You remember that right? You and him and all your little kooks came, flocking like fuckin– fucking vultures.”

“Fuck this,” you remembered that night, the two of them got into a fight over a keg, and yes Rafe did make some low blows about him being a pogue from the Cut, but that was a year ago, when he was still using and while he was drunk, he’s still accountable, but he’s not that person anymore. 

You tried to get past him but he made a lame attempt at blocking your way. “I just want to go home, Jay. I don’t want to do this anymore.” You looked at him now and saw the way his face went from annoyed to apologetic. 

“That’s ok, hey, that’s fine. We don’t have to talk about it anymore.” He tried smoothing your hair back and letting his hand coast down to your neck but you moved away. “Just let me drive you home.”

“I don’t want– I’m fine, I’ll call Sarah. Just– Please.”

“Please what? I don’t know what you want.”

“I want you to stop. I want this to stop.”

“I don– honey, what do you mean?”

“I mean I can’t even breathe around you like this. It’s– It’s suffocating, Jay. I love you, you know that. I don’t know why you can’t just believe it too.” He let you walk away after that. What more was there to say. 

***Saturday***

Since you got together, the last 3 days have been the longest JJ’s gone without seeing you. He was laying on the pull out sofa backwards, his head dropped down over the foot of the bed, not caring that the mattress has sunk over the years and the black metal bar was digging into the back of his neck. He knew he shouldn’t let his pen go upside down, but he needed the distraction, he blew it down trying to fight the cloud from going up before it evaporated. 

Kiara was cross legged on the other couch, tapping through her friends’ snap stories. She still had some of the people you went to school with added. “Hey J,” she said.

“Hmm?” 

“Have you seen Sarah’s story?”

“Why would I see Sarah’s story?”

“I don’t know. You want to?”

“Not really.” He flipped over so the front of his throat was on the bar and he let out a long groan before he fixed his position. 

“She’s lookin awfully comfy up with Sarah.” He knew who she ment by “she.”

“Lemme see.”

“I’m not moving, you come here.”

He groaned again when he flipped off over the couch, like an old man. 

Kie swiped it back to the beginning and he saw the progression of you and some other girls in the back of one of their brand new broncos. The roof was off and the next one was a boomerang of your big smiles and hair blowing wild. Then another of you all at lunch, the waiter must have taken it of you. Some of your food, then the sky with your hand pointing to a cloud and your voice saying “That one looks like a chameleon. I’m telling you, look at it.” “What are you talking about?” It sounded like Rafe but Sarah kept it pointed at the sky. “You’re looking at it wrong.” It panned down to you standing behind Rafe, taking him by the shoulders and turning him in the right direction. “That looks like a dog.” It ended with you slapping him on the arm. 

The next story was Riley’s, Sarah’s cousin, after the few Kiara skipped through of just the restaurant, there was one of you and Sarah dancing in the street. It looked like it you were still just outside the restaurant, one with an overt theme of a European café. There was a street performer with his open guitar case in front of his stool, his instagram handle on a piece of cardboard tapped to the back of it. In the background, behind you two spinning each other around, it looked like Rafe threw some money in there and then said something to the busker. The next video was of Rafe playing a song that had you all laughing and spinning together. He looked away when he saw you turn your head to look at him. 

He looked different than the last time he saw him, healthier, he lost that faraway look he used to have in his eyes. He looked good, and you looked like you liked it. 

Kiara turned off her phone and shifted to look at him better. “Doesn’t matter.” She put her hand over his, “She’s just happy he’s doing better, that has nothing to do with how she feels about you.”

“I know that, I know. I just– fuck, I ruined it.”

“You didn’t ruin anything, you fucked it up a little bit, but not ruined.”

“I don’t want her to hate me.”

“I don’t think she has it in her to hate anyone, especially you.”

***The Cameron House***

Your day ended with a backyard camp out just like you used to do as kids. After all the tents were set up and Riley and Sarah kicked the boys out, you made your 9 person tent into a 5 girl paradise. There was an honest fear in all of you that all your sunset lamps and starry night projectors would overwhelm even the industrial powerstrips, but Sarah assured you, as she plugged in the fourth fan, that it’d all be fine. It was like sitting in a sunset. Pinks and peaches and bubbly orange colors everywhere you looked. Fluffy duvets lined every inch of the floor and there was no escape from all the pillows. Memoryfoam, down, throw, body, king size, every kind of pillow you could imagine stolen from every room in the house. You were between Lizzie and Sarah with Riley and Wheezie across from you. 

You always used to have a camp fire before you went back to your tents, and by the time you noticed that the sun was beginning to set from your captured sky in the tent, Rafe and the three other boys had gotten it started. 

Lizzie was handing you everyother s’more she made, which really meant that she messed every other one up and gave it to you when she didn’t want it. You were on your second when Rafe noticed you looking cold and holding your hands in front of the fire and elbowed Sarah to go get you a sweater or something. She came back and apologized if it was the wrong size, it was Rafe’s that he grew out of 4 years ago and she never grew into length-wise. “Have another, have another.” Lizzie was trying to bring another s’more to your lips. 

“I can’t, I’ll be sick if I have any more.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun.” You knew she was joking when she knocked her shoulder into yours.

“No, you’re the one trying to kill me.”

“Death by s’mores?”

“It’s an epidemic.” Wheezie said as she popped another perfectly goldened marshmallow into her mouth.

You gave Lizzie a look then moved to the bench at the side of the fire where the smoke wasn’t blowing. The only open seat was between Rafe and Jack. Let’s just hope that no one posts anything else tonight. 

“Sick of the s’mores?” Jack asked you.

“Yeah, the perfect goop in the middle can only make the charred black shell on the outside worth it so many times before it’s just not.”

“Pull it off then,” Rafe suggested.

“And lose the exhilarating crunch? Never.”

Rafe shrugged, knowing you were just going to keep going in circles, just for fun, and reached over the arm of the bench to offer you something from the cooler. “Surprise me.”

“Close your eyes then.”

“Why?”

“It needs to be a real surprise. If I got something you don’t like you’d just have me put it away and get you something else. Where’s the surprise in that?”

“Hmph.” You closed your eyes and opened your hand to accept the can, the condensation was dripping into the place where your thumb meets your hand and whatever he gave you tasted like fizzy lemon and basil. You hummed trying to figure it out without opening your eyes, in the end you gave up and read the label anyway. “I’m not gonna get high off of this, right?”

“It’s CBD.”

“I don’t know what you’re giving me.”

“I gave you a seltzer.”

“With CBD.”

“Would you be making as big a deal as this if I gave you a beer or something?”

You shrugged and he went to take your can away and replace it with a corona. “Wooah, woah, woah, who said I was done with that?”

“You.”

“No. It was good.”

“Good.” He let go and you took another sip. You took another look around at the fire and everyone around it then brought one leg up to hug against yourself. “So how’ve you been?”

“I’m alright. You?”

“Better than I’ve been in a while.”

“That’s good, I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks…yeah.” He cracked open another can of seltzer, just a regular one. “So I hear you’re going out with that Maybank kid.”

“Don’t call him that, you know his name.”

“Sorry, JJ. How long?”

“A few months. 6 actually.”

“And he let you come out with me?”

“He didn’t let me. I dom’t need anyone to let me do anything.”

“I’m sorry, I just meant–”

“It’s fine, sorry. It’s fine.”

“Should I apologize to him?” He was looking at you but you were just looking at the fire, Jack had left you by then to put out a flaming marshmallow.

“For what?”

“I don’t know, being a dick to him for however long.”

“Probably.” You looked at him now and he looked sincere enough for you to want to continue the conversation. 

“You know that I was really in a bad place then, right? Like using every chance I got, just being a dick and having no idea what I was doing?”

“I know. Doesn’t excuse it though.”

“I know that, I do. Which is why I want to apologize. And I’m not just gonna blame my dad either though, like I should have known better than to just regurgitate all the shit he was telling be about the Cut and pogues and whatever, all that shit that doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, I get that.” You turned so you could face him too, your leg was still up on the bench between you two.

“And I wanted to apologize to you too. I was a complete asshole to you that whole time too. I was so stupid and I shouldn’t have been messing with you when you were like 14.”

You took a deep breath before you said anything. You never really had any strong feelings about when you “dated” before, whenever you thought back to it you thought it was all just because you were young and didn’t know any better. Now that he’s saying this though, it just floods your memory of all the times he tried manipulating you into things you weren’t ready for. You never gave in and eventually he gave up and found some other girl that’d fall for the flash of an amex faster than a smile, but you never actually fell that hard to feel any overwhelming feelings about it. “Can I hug you?”

“Really?” Obviously not the reaction he was expecting. 

“Mhm.” He leaned in and you rubbed one hand up and down his back a few times. “I forgive you.”

“For real?”

“You’re trying to be better, I believe it.”

***The Chateau***

“JJ, no!” Kiara tried to go after him before John B blocked his way out the front door.

Clearly, someone was posting more videos than you knew about. Kie and JJ were just watching baby sensory videos, the ones with the bouncing vegetables, when she got a post notification. “You wanna look at it?”

He shrugged for the thousandth time that night. “Sure.”

And there was the flaming marshmallow melting on the stone and one of them trying to stomp it out with their $50 flip flop… and you in the background, first with you looking into Rafe’s eyes. Next with your arms around him and his face turned into your neck. Whether he was talking or anything else meant nothing to JJ. 

John B was enough to stop him even if he kept trying to push him out of the way. “The fuck is wrong with you, man?”

“She’s supposed to be with me, ok?” He was angry but they heard the hurt underneath. “She’s supposed to be with me and I keep– I keep fucking it up.” He beat a weak fist on John B’s chest before he took him into his arms. 

“You didn’t. You didn’t. Listen, listen, hey,” JJ finally pulled back to let John B look at him. “We’ll have her over tomorrow, yeah? Have her over, you guys can talk and figure it out?” JJ was shaking his head. “What? What is it?”

“She doesn’t want me. I fucked it all up and she doesn’t want me anymore.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Kie, show him the thing.”

“What thing?”

“Jay, I don’t think–”

“Just show him the video.”

She went through it and showed John B, she pointed out you and Rafe. “See?” JJ was about to cry again, so John B pulled him back in like a little kid.

“We’ll have her over tomorrow.”

***The Cameron House***

The fire was dying out and you and Sarah were the last ones out. Everyone else was sleeping, or at least laying down in their tents. 

“You’re still with JJ?”

“Mhm,” You nodded and took another sip from your sprite. “Actually, I don’t know. It’s been weird.”

“What do you mean?” She moved closer to your side. 

“He didn’t want me coming, first because we had a date set, then because he’s still banged up about Rafe and the stuff he used to do. Also because of the 4 dates we went on when I was like 12.” She knew you meant 14, semantics. She hated those 4 weeks, they were miserable. 

“But you still came?”

“Mhm, I haven’t seen him since Tuesday.”

“But–”

“He hates your brother.”

“He’s not the only one. But he’s gotten better.”

“I know he has, he apologized to me earlier tonight.”

“So he–”

“He want’s to apologize to JJ too. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you, I just…”

“It’s ok, I get it.”

“Thank you. I don’t want to mess it up with him. It’s been going so well, and he’s so wonderful when he wants to be. He’s just…he’s everything and I love it but I just can’t stand it when he gets all weird about coming to my house, he never wants to meet any of you guys or come anywhere near figure 8. I don’t feel bad about what I have, and I don’t pity him for what he has, but I just wish it didn’t matter. Like I wish no one ever told him that he’s just a ‘dirt broke pogue’ or that he’s gonna end up like his dad. He could do so so much if he wanted and I just want him to know that. I don’t want anything to hold him back and I just want to give him the whole world and make him happy but I know he won’t take it,” She put an arm around you and rubbed your shoulder that was against her chest with her other hand. You hiccuped a sob before you realized it and took a breath to collect yourself. “I don’t know if he thinks he isn’t worth it, or he doesn’t deserve it because he isn’t worth it, but I– Fuckin christ, I just want him to be ok.” Your cry became a whine like a little kid’s that doesn’t know how to get their feelings out any other way. Sarah was holding you as close as she could and rocking you side to side as you tried to decide if it would be better to just let it all out now, or try to breathe again. 

“You wanna go see him?”

“What?” You pulled back and wiped the few streaks of tears from her cheeks, you didn’t feel like you were worth crying for at the moment. 

“Do you want to go see him?” She pulled the cuff of her sweater up to wipe over your cheeks then under your nose. 

“What do you–Like right now?”

“Yes, come on,” she shook your shoulder just a bit. “We’ll take the car, go to his house.”

“Not his house. John B’s.”

“John B’s then. You want to?”

You let her pull you up from the bench and towards your shoes before you gave yourself a second to think about it.

***

The streets were nearly dead besides the few college kids speeding by you or a few pick up trucks on their way to work in the other direction. 

You caught your face in the sideview mirror, tear stained and puffy but weirdly ethereal with the way the watery tracks sparkled in the street lights you were passing at lightning speed. You looked at yourself a little too hard before you realized how ridiculous this whole thing was. 

“What the fuck are we doing?”

“What? No, no, hey, come on, don’t back out now!”

“Sarah, it’s past 2 am, this is just, god it’s so desperate.”

“I am not turning this car around.”

“I’ll jump out the window.”

“You will not!”

You looked back at where you came from, woods, long, straight, not worth the walk in any direction. “Fine.”

“Prepare yourself, we’ll be there in like 5 minutes.” With her driving, 5 became 2 and you were barely halfway though your imagined version of how this would go. 

She parked but didn’t turn the car off yet. “The lights,” you hissed at her. “You’ll wake them up.”

“And who do you want to answer the door then?” She pulled the key out and went to the front door before you could get out of your seatbelt.

Knock Knock Knock Knock Knock

“Jesus christ, Sarah,” You pulled her arm down. “You want them to think we’re a SWAT team?”

****

They ran out of drinks 4 hours ago so Kie and John B were playing an embarrassing game of cup pong with some probably a little bit expired sprite they found at the back of the fridge. Pope was showing JJ a nature he hoped would be a good enough distraction, he was getting very invested in the baby elephant’s journey, which they thought was a good sign.

Knock Knock Knock Knock Knock

All their heads shot up from whatever they were doing, it could really be anyone. Too many people trying to find them, not enough with any boundaries or respect for their circadian rhythms.

John B took a step to the door, “Wait,” JJ said, “It could be Luke.” John B nodded and JJ went into the bathroom and locked the door. 

Pope walked behind John B and nearly jumped out of his skin when another round of loud knocks came, followed by a harsh “Sarah!”

They looked at each other in confusion then opened the door.

You were there holding Sarah by the wrist, she had her fist raised to knock again, “Hi,” she said before she remembered to put his arm down. He stood to his full height and she was nothing short of stunned. I thought this was about me?! You rolled your still teary eyes and stepped forward just a little. “Can I see him?” you asked gently, knowing you were in no position to be making any demands.

“Do you really think–” –that’s a good idea, is what he was going to say in that careful tone, not wanting to hurt you or JJ, or over step on your relationship but still trying to protect his friend, doing too much at once.

“Yes.” 

There was really no room for any more arguments, he stood back to the side to let you past and you went to the bathroom door. Two gentle knocks, “JJ, I– Can we– I–” you were half a second from turning back to Sarah, crying again saying ‘I can’t do it’ but he opened the door and pulled you inside; and maybe you shouldn’t have, but you grabbed both his hands, holding them in a way that his forearms were close against your chest, maybe the weight would calm your heart down. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He moved his hands to the sides of your neck, his thumbs in the space under your ear, just under your jaw. Your hands held his wrists instead. “I don’t want to fight, I saw you and Rafe and I fucking– I saw my whole life without you and I didn’t want it.”

“No, no, don’t be sorry. I don’t want you sorry, don’t be sorry.” You brushed his hair away from his sticky forehead, “I should have listened better, I should thought about what you wanted. I just want to give you everything and the feeling that I couldn’t even give you a Saturday, I–”

“It’s not your fault, I shouldn’t have asked you to chose, I don’t want you to chose between my life or yours, ok? Pick yours everytime, don’t drag yourself down for me.”

“No, no. There’s no my life or your life. Not to me, right? There’s just ours.”

‘Our life.’

“I love you,” he had to say.

“I love you too, and I never want to do that again.”

“Do what?”

“I don’t want to not see you or hear from you for 3 days, and I don’t want to have to decipher your feelings, I want you to tell me the truth. Even if you think I won’t like it.”

“I can do that, I can do all of that.” He was trying to talk fast, the faster he talked the faster he could kiss you, kiss all the feelings he didn’t know how to tell you into you. 

He moved in but you moved your head back before his lips reached yours, “Wait.”

“What? What is it?”

“I need to know that you’re not gonna do that again, I need to really know.”

“I promise, I promise you, babe, anything you want.”

“But how do I know you’ll keep it?”

“I mean it.” He took your hands again. 

“But can you–”

“Every day, I’ll prove it every day.”

“You swear?”

“On my honor as a Pogue.”

“Hmm,” you leaned into his humor now that you knew he meant it.

“What? You doubt my honor?”

“Only a little.”

“Then I swear on John B’s life. If I ever ever make you feel like I don’t care about you or like you’re doing something wrong, I will personally deliver you his heart in my hand.”

“Ugh, so graphic!”

“How else will you know I mean it?”

You moved your hand up his arm and wrapped your arms around his neck, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[shares-a-vest]

alright, i gotta steddify these new pictures of joe keery. now just imagine an 80's looking combo of the jackets, wide-legged pants and belt as steve reluctantly gets ready to model for an art project.

Steve looks in the mirror and sighs.

He reaches up and picks at the gigantic shoulders of a long black coat Robin had managed to convince him he needed to wear for the sake of their friendship.

Or, whatever art project thing she has to submit for art class before the end of her last semester.

She made it all sound very important. Hence the clearly empty threat about their friendship. She didn't even give any details, just a big bag of clothes that he needed to try out before next weekend. Max and Vickie were in for the same nightmare too.

He doesn't know what this jacket was before his best friend unfortunately found it in a thrift store. He thinks it is supposed to be a raincoat. At least, that's what the tacky (vinyl? leather?) fabric feels like.

A knock on the bathroom door startles him, pulling him away from thoughts of the non-raincoat-slash-jacket and all the jewellery he is yet to dare put on.

The sound makes him jump forward and right into the sink. His chunky belt buckle hits the porcelain and pokes right into his tummy, which is already constrained by the too-tight-at-the-waist pants he'd wrestled into first.

"I'll be out in a minute!" he calls over his shoulder, panicked as he attempts to stifle the whine lingering from his stabby belt buckle.

He pinches his nose with one hand, bracing himself on the vanity with the other. How is he going to explain this to whoever is on the other side of the door!

"Steeevie!" comes Eddie's all too cheerful voice, loud like he is pressed right against the ensuite door.

"Oh no!" he gripes, running his hands through his hair.

Before he can think to block the door (or, come up with an excuse that won't result in Eddie barging in) Eddie barges in.

"Whoa!" he gapes, closing the door and collapsing against it with a hearty thud of his head.

He grumbles and rubs at the self-inflicted owie, mussing his hair.

"It's for Robin's art thing," Steve admits, voice barely above a whisper as he gestures to his outfit, "I don't even know what it is, so don't ask me to explain it."

"Wait," Eddie frowns, "Robin isn't even here?"

He tips his head to the side, now scratching at his bump to the noggin.

Steve sighs, "She wanted me to try everything in case she needs to make adjustments."

"Well, that explains the pile of clothes on the bed, then," Eddie says to the ground, likely now focused on the shiny black ankle boots half a size too small Steve hopes aren't snakeskin.

He belatedly sticks a thumb at the door, not tearing his focus away as he chews at the inside of his cheek. Steve groans, screwing his eye shut.

He thinks he knows where this is headed.

"Who are you to pass up a chance at modelling?" Eddie teases, cutting through a momentary silence and wiggling his brows as he grins.

He lifts himself from his spot with a theatrical kick against the door with an unnecessary amount of force. He tiptoes forward, still grinning like a devilish idiot and leans in so close Steve could kiss his stupidly cute dimples right off his damn face.

Instead, Steve backs right up against the sink, the belt now pulling at the back of his pants.

Eddie reaches forward and tugs at the wide lapels of the jacket-non-raincoat-coat. He feigns smoothing it out as he runs his hands over Steve and up to his shoulders. Steve gulps.

If he is finally going to kiss Eddie Munson, after months of teasing and flirting and standing this damn close, he refuses to let it happen in this stupid get-up. Soulmate's finals project, or not.

Eddie looks him up and down, eyes lustful and cheeky.

"You look nice," he purrs, running his hands over the coat front again.

"The-there's others," he blurts out, stuttering as he resists the urge to push off from the sink and close what little space is left between them, "A - Um... A navy jacket with these, ugh... bedazzled things on the..."

He waves his hand at the non-raincoat. Bedazzled? Really?

"I'd like to see you in that," Eddie teases, eyes going wide – they glisten under the yellow light of Steve's bathroom, "You look good in everything."

Eddie looks down, blushing like that last thought was a little too much. He must catch sight of the gold belt buckle, because he soon drops his hands, pausing before he reaches out to give it a hearty tug too.

He quickly balls up his fists and raises them above his head, sputtering, "And – uh, um... Where did you and Robin find these pieces..."

He trails off, murmuring a questioning "pieces" to himself.

Steve rolls his eyes, "She got them at some thrift store she went to with some of the art girls last weekend."

"And I wasn't invited?" Eddie gasps, clutching a fake set of pearls, "I love a thrift store!"

"Eddie, the art girls say you are scary," he bites back, "And not scary in a fun way. I mean, so they say."

Eddie merely nods, sticking out his bottom lip. He probably isn't listening, considering he usually defends his own honour with a good, long rant about everybody else. So, Steve decides that means it would be best to prattle on like an idiot and really bore his crush to tears about clothes.

"There's a bowtie, a black leather jacket," Eddie hums at that one, "A super sheer shirt that, honestly? Might look good on me. And a pair of really huge pants. You should see the legs on these things– "

He cuts himself off, going wide-eyed as soon as he realises he has in fact, technically invited Eddie to see said wide-legged baggy pants.

He reluctantly looks up to find Eddie smiling and bashful as he bats his pretty lashes.

"I..." Eddie stutters, gesturing nonchalantly in the thickened air between them, "Um, I mean... If you want you can try those on. And if you, y'know need help... If they're so wide... I could..."

Steve grabs his hand and reaches for the bathroom door.

[tired-biscuit]

Grow Fonder

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: kiba inuzuka/fem!reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 18+ mdni // age gap (10+ years), teacher/student relationship, power dynamic, mention of explicit pictures, oral (m!receiving), fingering, creampie, slightly dominant reader, slightly awkward professor!kiba. reader is a senju, cos i couldn't bother with y/l/n. modern/college AU.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 18.4k+

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: this one was a challenge to write, not gonna lie. whoever reads this entire monster of a fic, i'm sending you a big kiss and a hug, 'cause you're a real one fr. <3

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: After sending an accidental email containing your nude to your zoology professor, interesting things commence.

𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

YOU’RE tired.

There are plenty of reasons as to why. It’s late. You’ve studied all night. The clock that’s situated across the old refrigerator currently ticks a little over half past eleven, annoyingly reminding you that it’d be a wise decision to head to bed and get some much needed rest before your morning classes start. 

The sink you now linger by has finally been emptied of the dirty dishes that had been piling up over the course of the week. Unlike yourself, both of your roommates had been smart enough to finish their chores early and part just as quickly. Already soundly asleep; the doors that lead to their respectful bedrooms are closed shut.

You aren’t surprised, really. It’s a perfect night for snoozing, after all – cold and quiet. As you stand in the little kitchenette of your modest student apartment, dressed in your warmest pajamas and fuzzy socks, there isn’t a sound to be heard besides the mellow pitter-patter of rain that occasionally makes the window to your left rattle.

The sound calms you, but your mind still continues to whir as you open the tap and wait for the water to reach room temperature. Much like the ancient boiler that takes ages to start working, your kitchen is just as busted and could definitely use some renovating. 

Perhaps you could gather a couple of your friends and throw a splash of colour on the walls with their help, maybe add some indoor plants that you could place on the windowsills? Now that you’ve finally finished and submitted the assignment to your dumb zoology professor, you could do it over the weekend, buy a bottle of wine or two, and–

Wait.

Did you send the assignment…?

You’re nearly finished with filling up your water bottle when it dawns upon you, the acknowledgement sharp as ice. Blinking whilst still standing next to the sink, you watch as the cool liquid begins to overflow the rim of the bottle, dousing both of your hands with cold water that never even got the chance to heat up. 

Your face twists at the unpleasant sensation.

It must be a mistake. Has to be. 

Right?

Staring at the tap you’ve just turned off, anxiety begins to creep in. You must be wrong – you’re sure of it, no, you’re positive – and yet slow, albeit steady panic still continues to crawl inside your brain like an icky spider. With every passing second you spend inside the kitchen you’re barely paying rent for, looking like some stupid standing emoji, the cloud of doubt looming above your head grows bigger and bigger.

You definitely remember seeing that file amongst the mess of documents on your computer whilst you’d been typing the email. And that’s fine, there’s nothing wrong with that, but now you’re stuck wondering if your stupid, idiotic self actually managed to… send it somehow?

In mere seconds, your water bottle is sent flying into the sink as you sprint back towards your bedroom with quick-paced footsteps; all of them executed in absolute haste. You haven’t even run a long distance, and your breaths are already shaky by the time you reach your desk, teeth chewing on the fresh manicure that you've saved up for as you practically yank open your laptop and tap the browser with eyes as wide open as a frightful fawn’s. 

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon.” Impatience seeps out of you now. Your pupils turn big as saucers as you take the moment to just scan the page that finally opens up after the computer comes back to life. 

Palms turn clammy as you begin to click around. Dread is blooming and increasing inside your chest, pulsating inside of you in a beat like that of a warrior drum. Even your fingers are trembling above the used touchpad in the same quivery way your upper lip does now. Every breath you suck into your lungs is becoming increasingly painful.

Finally landing onto the thing you’ve been searching for like some fucking maniac – special thanks to your shitty apartment’s equally as shitty Internet connection – you check and skim through the email you’ve sent out just a couple of minutes ago. 

[You] Thursday, 11:27 PM

Dear Professor Inuzuka,

I’m terribly sorry for reaching out this late, however I’ve finally finished fixing all of the mistakes in my assignment that you were so kind to point out. Attached below is the document containing the final version. 

Again, I apologize for all the inconvenience I might have caused with my tardiness. Hopefully this email finds you well.

Kind regards,

y/n Senju

So far so good, right? As your eyes scan the text, you attempt to ignore the way your heart continues to thunder inside your chest. Besides the dryness, there’s nothing off with the message itself, it seems.

And that is indeed true; there really isn’t anything wrong with the message. The problem hides in the assignment you’ve sent – or the lack thereof.

So you open the file that is attached below your rather snippy email. And cringe at the image that pops up. Ignoring the sweat that trickles down your neck, you close the damn thing so swiftly that the screen threatens to lag, and repeat it all over again. And again. Just to be sure and to suffer some more while you’re at it.

There’s no doubt about it now. Stomach clenching in pure horror, nausea overcomes you as you see yourself on the screen – body almost completely nude – instead of the paper you’ve just spent hours working on like a lunatic.

Congratulations! Being the braindead girl that you are when you’re tired, you’ve just succeeded in sending your nude to the worst person imaginable, if you exclude your parents. Your fucking nude – sent to your fucking zoology professor, who you borderline despise because of how mean he can get during lessons.

Great.

Speaking of mean, you’re surprised you aren’t dead already because of it. Whenever you look at the screen and see his name, the world begins to spin. You actually feel physically ill. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip in an attempt of biting down a miserable sob and stabilizing yourself, you’re beginning to tremble in your cheap desk chair that had come along with the dorm’s furniture.

I mean, what the fuck are you supposed to do now? Yell at your professor in all caps lock to not open the email? Block him? Never show your face on campus again? Move across the state and start a new life under the pseudonym of your favourite fictional character?

Now that you think about it, he’d probably like that. Considering how the first semester is going so far, getting you out of his class is probably his number one priority. He’s always had it in for you for absolutely no reason – not any reason that you know of, anyway. You’d just be doing him a favour at this point.

But pushing all of that to the side, you’re still panicking. Staring at the screen through blurry vision because of the quickly-upcoming tears that are threatening to spill any moment now, you’re just about ready to bawl your eyes out. To tear your hair out. To take yourself out. 

Ping!

The sound makes you nearly jump out of your skin. Dread overcomes you all over again as your phone flashes the notification of a new email that shows up a second before your laptop comes in sync with the device, and updates the list of unopened messages in your browser. 

It seems that Mr. Inuzuka doesn’t intend to give you enough time to do any of the, ‘getting rid of this situation, and consequently yourself’ schemes you were planning on executing, because right now, his response is waiting for you to click open in bold font.

Your stomach is still twisting; pressing even harder on your rising nausea. The lump that’s formed inside your throat is so big that it’s impossible to swallow as you take a deep breath and – click!

As is expected, his reply is snippy, but nonetheless mortifying.

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:39 PM

Miss Senju,

I think you might have sent me the wrong file by mistake.

While I do feel flattered by your attempt (?) at bringing light to the nuisance that is your overdo assignment, I am not quite sure if it’d be proper for your email to find me as well as you’d hoped for.

If you can, send the proper document as soon as you’re able.

Sincerely,

Kiba

Jesus almighty on a fucking cross, he’s seen it. All cute and glistening underneath the nearly see-through damp patch of your lace thongs; your bitter professor has seen your all the more sweet pussy in 4K. Bent over and yearning to be filled. At this point, you might as well begin your search for a gravestone, because you’re just about ready to dig yourself a hole and simply die in it.

But instead of doing that, you read the message again.

Flattered, he tells you. What a fucking prick, of course he’s chosen to fuck with your already crumbling sanity just for the fun of it. 

Zoning out whilst staring at the email, you can nearly taste the sarcasm dripping off of the letters in that taunting sort of way he prefers using with you every chance he gets. If you try hard enough, you can even hear him in your head – oddly enough, it fails to make you sick.

Flattered.

You should feel repulsed by the word and the way it’s used, you know that, and yet all you feel coursing your veins… is piping hot thrill.

Because whether you like it or not, whenever Mr. Inuzuka zeroes in on you during lessons, you cannot keep yourself from perking up like you’re his dog – or his bitch, so to speak. He walks over and looks down at you with those sharp, brown eyes, and fuck, it feels like a gift of sorts. One with your name on it, specifically. Pretty bow on it and everything, even though he’s fucking mean as hell.

Truth be told, you don’t just dislike it; you hate it. Hate him because of the way he chooses to treat you. 

Or do you? 

Yes, he makes you answer the silliest, most complex of questions for reasons unknown all the time, but have you ever asked yourself why he does it? Maybe him pestering you, not being fair just like the world isn’t fair, constantly drilling you to strive for higher goals and getting better grades could actually be considered… a good thing?

Because let’s be honest, professors rarely give a crap, don’t they? More often than not, their salaries just aren't high enough for them to actually care about their students and waste any more time on them than what is absolutely necessary. But Mr. Inuzuka… He clearly cares about you in his own weird, overbearingly strict way, right?

After all, when you nearly get every single one of his questions wrong  – of course you do, you’re nothing but a ditzy girl that’s constantly daydreaming about things that have nothing to do with his lessons, apparently – it makes him smile. It’s this conceited grin that shows off his pretty teeth, and that makes his face radiant. A complete change of character.

And as if that wasn’t enough already, he likes to rest both of his palms on your desk then. With no ring in sight and with eyes as dark as ever whilst they search your own, he tells you to apply yourself. Low and serious, despite the smile, which you yearn to slap off of his pretty face as soon as it appears. He looks at you almost like he pities you in a way. 

Some small, docile part of you wishes he did.

You just can’t help yourself. Because even at those times, it isn’t anger that brings your very blood to a simmer as you stare at that wretched grin that adorns his lips. No, it’s pure infatuation, no matter how harshly he drags you down with it. Right there; in front of the entire class, as well as all the super popular girls you’re low-key terrified of, with all their sneering and whispering going around.

However, all of that you can endure – to a reasonable degree, of course. Trouble starts whenever Mr. Inuzuka decides that just smiling at your incompetence simply isn’t enough. When the time comes that he chooses to kick it up a notch for whatever reason and he bullies you some more. As he leans back in his chair, leisurely crossing one ankle over the other like he owns absolutely no care in the world, and chides ever-so-sweetly, “Wrong again, Miss Senju. Like I’ve suggested before, maybe you should apply yourself if you wish to see better results.”

And yet he’s telling you he’s fucking flattered, now?!

Confusion fogging your mind, your fingers are sweat-riddled to the point of slipping off the goddamn keys as you begin to type your reply, paying no heed whatsoever at keeping the email as formal as you had done with the one before it.

[You] Thursday, 11:42 PM

mr. inuzuka, i am SO, SO, SO SORRY!!!! ik i’ve sent the wrong file, i am absolutely mortified that you had to see that. please forgive me, i swear it was an honest mistake!!!!! i really am so sorry

i’ll send the right one right away, don’t report me to the faculty or something. please please pLEASE i’m so close to graduating, oh god

Not even two full minutes later, another reply chimes in.

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:44 PM

Reporting you would be utter nonsense. 

Besides, you’re an adult, are you not? 

A flash of anger rushes through you at his choice of wording, however you somehow succeed in stifling it as you type the short reply with utmost aggression. Who does he think he is, talking to you like that? You’re about to die from embarrassment, and here he is: being snarky at your expense.

[You] Thursday, 11:45 PM

yes, sir. i am indeed a functioning adult

Only semi-satisfied with your rather snippy reply, you secretly hope that he can distinguish the sarcasm amongst the intimidation that lingers in-between. Even if you’re in absolutely no position to be commanding the situation, you can at least try to touch the reins that he holds in his hands, right?

Ping!

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:45 PM

Good. Please act like one, then. 

Ping!

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:45 PM

If it’s not too hard of a task for you, of course. :-)

Fucker. It seems that he indeed can recognize sarcasm over text. You’d roll your eyes at the stupid emoji if you weren’t so jittery. He’s already getting on your nerves from how flustered and stressed he makes you over goddamn email.

[You] Thursday, 11:46 PM

with all due respect, professor…….. it’s pretty hard for me to remain calm and act like a ‘functioning adult’ after the picture i’ve just sent you

Ping!

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:47 PM

Why so upset? It's not even that bad of a picture.

Another email immediately follows after the first one.

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:48 PM

What I meant was that you shouldn’t feel embarrassed at all by the little mishap.

Of course. You haven’t even been given the chance to ask for an explanation and he’s already giving it to you.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you fail to suppress the flush of heat that blooms on your face as you reread the two messages. Telling you that your nude isn’t bad; Mr. Inuzuka cannot possibly be serious. But now that you already have him here… 

You could ask? 

Your fingers linger over the keys for a moment as you stare at the screen. It surely wouldn’t hurt. You’ve already dug a hole deep enough, what’s another inch?

Right?

[You] Thursday, 11:50 PM

am i supposed to be saying thank you for the ever so kind semi-compliment?

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:53 PM

Maybe I should be the one saying thank you instead?

Holy shit. His suddenly lewd answer sends a heatwave rushing through your chest. It aims straight down to your stomach, your very core; warms it up real nice. Are you actually reading this right?

Ping!

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:54 PM

fuckk i can’t believe i actually sent that 

Ping!

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:55 PM

i’m sorry, that was terribly uncalled for. i don’t know what got into me, but i’ve had a bit to drink

Your heart hurts from how fast it’s beating now as you watch his nice and tidy spelling deteriorate with every extra email he sends you. Palms turn clammy again and digits fidgety in a way like they do during pesky finals week. The stress has gotten so bad that you even have to take a minute just to breathe, and breathe, and breathe. 

In and out, the intensity you’re using to suck air into your aching lungs makes you feel light-headed by the time you begin to type your response.

[You] Thursday, 11:58 PM

it’s okay... we’ve both made mistakes tonight.

Ping! He answers nearly in an instant.

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:59 PM

might make more if we keep talking… i should go.

He should go, it’s true. And yet the thought of ending the conversation saddens you all of a sudden. You’re not ready to let him go just yet, are you? 

Christ, what is with you? Are you that sleep-deprived that you’re willing to mess with your professor just for the fun of it?

[You] Thursday, 11:59 PM

oh…. are you sure?

It seems so.

It feels like eons are passing as you wait for Mr. Inuzuka to finish brooding and weighing his options miles away. Sitting in silence, with your face illuminated by the screen of your laptop, you can’t believe yourself. I mean, truly, what on earth has gotten into you? You’re flirting with your professor at midnight, asking him to keep chatting with you as if he’s your classmate instead of your teacher. 

It all makes you start biting your nails again; skin pulling taught with nervosity. By the time his reply finally arrives, you’ve almost ruined the pretty manicure.

[K.I.] Friday, 12:03 AM

well… would you like me to stay?

Your pulse quickens. He wants to talk to you, it’s obvious, he’s just too big of a coward to admit it. Silly man. But it’s not like you’re going to outright admit that you wish to chat with him some more, too.

[You] Friday, 12:04 AM

well, you’re actually bearable now... so i guess i can talk to you a bit more if i really have to haha?

[K.I.] Friday, 12:06 AM

you don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to, sweetheart. i can always go grade your assignment if you’d prefer that, just send it to me :-)

Now that makes you tingle all over, if you ignore the jab. Makes you pull your knees all the way up to your chest so that you can press your forehead against them and stifle the squeal that’s bubbling up your throat and threatening to slip past your lips, forming a risk to wake your roommates. He’s such a smartass; so insufferable, and you’re so in love with his wit and crude charm.

And you're also lucky that he can’t see you right now. That he can’t guess how much the pet name actually fazes you just because it comes from a man like him. Even the corners of your lips are twitching from the smile that keeps insisting to form as you type.

[You] Friday, 12:06 AM

no, no!!! talking to you is just fine

[K.I.] Friday, 12:07 AM

yeah? even if i use these bad boys? :-) :-) :-)

[You] Friday, 12:07 AM

sure… 

[K.I.] Friday, 12:08 AM

continuously? :-) :-)

[You] Friday, 12:08 AM

mhm

[K.I.] Friday, 12:09 AM

damn. you must really like me then, hm? ;-)

Heat crawls up your neck as you read the message one, two; three times. His little emojis are so stupid that they’re almost endearing in a way. It turns you soft – pliant like a naive teacher’s pet. You have to physically shake your head to snap out of it.

[You] Friday, 12:11 AM

i’ll like you even more if you give me a good grade on my assignment

There, that’s better. You’ve even attached the right document this time.

[K.I.] Friday, 12:12 AM

haha. do you think you deserve it?

[You] Friday, 12:13 AM

enduring your emojis like the tough bitch i am, i think i deserve the world

[K.I.] Friday, 12:14 AM

:-(  are they really that bad?

[You] Friday, 12:14 AM

i just think the lil nose makes them weird

[K.I.] Friday, 12:15 AM

well, i for one am rather fond of my nose. flatters my side profile

[You] Friday, 12:16 AM

sure, but your pretty side profile isn’t enough to convince me into liking your silly emojis, sir

Too far?

[K.I.] Friday, 12:20 AM

pretty, huh?

Seems not.

[You] Friday, 12:21 AM

that wasn’t the point and you know it

[K.I.] Friday, 12:22 AM

aha, right right. i’m sorry, sweetheart

[You] Friday, 12:23 AM

gosh, i’m surprised your head doesn’t float away with an ego that big

[K.I.] Friday, 12:25 AM

probably because i’m lucky enough to have another big thing that grounds me just as good

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. How did you get here so fast? 

Oh, right… The nude.

[You] Friday, 12:25 AM

yeah? and what exactly is this big thing of yours?

[K.I.] Friday, 12:27 AM

my brain

[You] Friday, 12:28 AM

oh wow

Oh, wow really.

[K.I.] Friday, 12:29 AM

what? did you think i was going to say something else?

[You] Friday, 12:29 AM

no, of course not!! i was just surprised you actually have a brain

[K.I.] Friday, 12:30 AM

sure you were :-)

[You] Friday, 12:31 AM

ughhhhhh……….. here you are, forcing me to see those stupid emojis again

[K.I.] Friday, 12:32 AM

B) look here’s one without a nose! lil guy has sunglasses on hehe

[You] Friday, 12:34 AM

sir, please….. this is silly. even for a millennial like u

[K.I.] Friday, 12:37 AM

well, how about you give me your number so i can call you then? that way you won’t have to see ‘em?? :-)

A smile ghosts over your lips as you read the message, pulse erratic. It’s surprising how smooth he is; circling around you so slowly that it doesn’t even feel rushed. Making you comfortable, stripping you layer by layer before going in for the kill.

Perhaps he actually does have a brain, after all.

—

Kiba can barely keep his eyes open when he arrives to work the next morning.

The poor man is still half asleep and is tired to the point it’s becoming too exhausting to even stand straight. He can feel the tightness in his shoulders when he rolls them in an attempt to release some tension that’s been building up over the course of a restless night, however the seams that hold his button up together make him halt midway as soon as they begin to protest to the sudden flex in his biceps.

He loosens a sigh. Just had to doll up, didn’t he?

It had been a mistake; looking handsome for someone who he definitely shouldn’t be trying to impress. The conversation you had with him over the phone last night hadn’t exactly crossed any boundaries, but it did leave him feeling somewhat thoughtful and lonely. 

After you had said goodnight with what he guessed was a smile on your face, he had started to feel empty inside. The line disconnected and all of a sudden he was alone with his thoughts; contemplating his life choices. Surely, he wouldn’t be having any reason to talk to you – his student – until three in the morning if he had a wife? 

Kiba had never married, after all. No, he’s all alone; still vigorous and full of life as he had been in his twenties, and is completely left to his own devices exactly like he had been during that time, too. He picks and chooses only what’s best for him. Concerns himself only with his own interests. Only thinks about himself. Some may call it a life without a sense of purpose, but he likes it just fine.

Never having kids to hold him back, he’s now slowly inching towards his mid-thirties by being the fun uncle instead of a dad. More and more of his friends are building families and settling down, and he’s just… drifting.

So, can he even be blamed for trying to woo his pretty student after seeing her equally as cute cunt? 

You’re young and soft, he wants to touch you all over. Is just thinking about letting off some steam, it’s not like it’d be anything serious. Only a quick roll around the sheets; a single night of greed you’ve certainly been hinting at over the phone, too. After all, you’ll graduate real soon and forget all about him. Will marry and have kids just like nearly every other person he knows is doing right now. So, what’s the problem?

Well, he could lose his job for starters. And you’re nearly a whole decade younger than him. He holds tremendous power over you with the position he possesses. It’d be frowned upon if anybody found out. It’s super risky. The faculty could expel you for it. His mother would beat his ass. Had he mentioned that he could very well lose his job?

But that picture… goddamn. 

He even has it saved on his phone.

Speaking of the picture, to say that he was shocked when he had opened the file the first time would have been an understatement. He had closed the thing so fast that he felt like a panicked teenager again: hearing his mother slip the keys into the front door whilst he was still looking at porn on the family computer. Pure stress.

But after a couple of quick-paced breaths, all of which had been so heavy they nearly fogged the blank screen of his computer, Kiba’s fingers found the mouse again. He’d moved the cursor slowly; cautiously. Clicked the file once more. Stared. Felt his eyelids turn heavy and his grey sweatpants strain by the time he had clicked the reply button and started typing.

Maybe he shouldn’t have drunk those two beers. Not that he was by any means drunk from them, but perhaps it would have stopped him from responding to your email the way he did. Would have stopped his hand from ever reaching the waistband of his sweats and slipping under. Would have halted all the stroking and grunting to follow right afterwards. Would have stifled the need, and wiped away the sticky mess he had spilled all over his hand and stomach by the time he had decided to start flirting with you and convince you into giving him your number because he just couldn’t get enough – not even after cumming.

Post-nut clarity, my ass.

Guilt seeps into Kiba’s chest, filling it with something gooey and disgusting as the thought of what he did crosses his mind for the hundredth time ever since yesterday; forcing him to drop his gaze in shame with a brow furrowed so tight, there’s a small ‘v’ etched right in-between. 

God-fucking-damn. It feels like everyone knows he’s jerked it to his student and came all over himself like some pathetic loser, because – by some odd miracle – a picture of her pretty pussy had somehow made its way onto his computer screen.

This is bad. So bad, in fact, that he even feels the need to place a hand over his heart, pretending that he’s whisking away imaginary dust from his fancy shirt instead of trying to tame the sudden jump in his accelerating pulse.

But speaking of the shirt, the light blue button up he’s yanked from the hanger this morning compliments his burly physique and hugs the broad span of his shoulders so tight that it’s no wonder the seams are threatening to tear. The pants he’s picked are in a colour of soft beige he usually never wears and doesn’t even remember buying. 

The combination he picked is good, but is also unlike him to pick it in the first place. He’s at least rolled up his sleeves up to his elbows as a meek attempt to feel more like himself, but it doesn’t ease the discomfort, just like the fact he’s wearing his favourite pair of shoes doesn’t.

All right, perhaps it’s not all that bad. Looking down at his outfit, the young professor has to admit he actually looks pretty decent for a change. Even a couple of his co-workers that linger in the halls flatter him as he starts heading towards the teachers’ lounge, twirling his keys around his index finger in an attempt to seem unbothered. 

Sure, the small praises are probably given only because the leather jacket he usually opts to wear is nowhere in sight, but Kiba still supposes that he understands it to some extent. He actually looks like a teacher for once instead of a burly biker. 

Still, his hair remains as wild as ever, no matter how nicely he dresses himself. The chestnut spikes stick in various directions, but are slightly droopy from his failed attempts to smooth them down. He looks like he’s been tossing and turning amongst the sheets all night instead of sleeping in them. And to be fair, he did just that… amongst other things. 

But never mind that! Besides the hair situation, Kiba also lacks a tie; the top two buttons where it should reside, already undone. He had tried putting it on, he promises that he did, but the damn thing just chokes him to oblivion and makes him want to flick it in the trash instead of tying it into a tidy knot around his neck.

Well, at least he’s tried to look presentable if anything else. Him being – sort of, kind of – dressed up to code should practically be celebrated at this point.

And yet, the reason as to why he’s done it creeps back into his mind and makes him spiral all over again. He hasn’t even reached the lounge yet and his feet are already dragging down the hall that’s filled with students whose names he can’t even recall most of the time; mind clouded with a thunderstorm so big you’d be able to see lightning flashing behind his eyes if you looked closely enough. 

Luckily for him, nobody does. He turns some heads from college girls he’s never spared a glance for; invokes a quicker heartbeat in the new substitute teacher he thinks is called Hinata H-something, but that’s it. Some of the young adults that surround him are just too busy still being half-asleep much like himself to notice their zoology professor passing by, whilst the other, more upbeat and social half is buzzing with chatter consisting of upcoming plans on how they’re going to spend their weekend. 

The fog in his head clears for the briefest second at that. 

Oh, right. It’s Friday.

He knows that he should feel chipper about the upcoming weekend, but for some reason he doesn’t. Deep down, Kiba knows it’s because he won’t see you until Tuesday, but he won’t admit that, of course. Won’t admit that he’s already formed some sort of twisted attachment to you like the sick fuck he is. Jesus, he seriously needs to get his shit together. You’re like, what, twenty? Twenty-two? He isn’t old enough to be your dad, but ten years is still… a lot.

His train of thought is broken when he bumps into somebody.

“Oops, I’m so sorry–” a voice starts.

Oh, lord.

There’s a brief beat of silence that makes blood rush into Kiba’s ears as his eyes connect with your own and he feels his pupils dilate to the point of ache from how fast they overtake his chocolate brown irises. Even his stomach twists uncomfortably at the tingling sensation your hand leaves behind when it grazes his arm in a rather foolish attempt to keep yourself steady. It makes his skin heat up underneath all the layers of clothing he’s got on, and fuck; it feels so good.

God, now that you're so close, he can tell that you smell absolutely divine. He has no clue what perfume it is that you’re wearing, he’s never really been a fan of them, really, but this one specifically makes his nostrils flare and his jaw turn slack as he turns so fucking desperate that he tries inhaling the scent through his mouth.

What an idiot. Keep yourself together, moron!

“It’s, uh, it’s fine! I’m fine.” He takes a small step back when he sees your lips begin to curl into a smile in response to the stupid expression that’s still lingering on his face. He’s wary; cautious – you’re in public and he’s your teacher. “No biggie.”  

You stare up at him, eyebrow quirking in pure puzzlement. He’s just so red now; face blooming a bashful crimson as he literally has to fight against his instincts to not stare at you for too long. He can’t stop the colour from tinting into an even deeper shade, it’s almost pathetic. And fuck, the change of tone you equip now only makes him blush even further as you say, “Well, good morning to you, too, professor.”

What the fuck? Weren’t you supposed to be the bashful one, considering that he’s your teacher and that you were the one that had sent him the picture by mistake?

The twirling of the keys Kiba holds in his hand has long since come to an abrupt stop as he swings them into his palm and holds on tight. Never mind all the pressure, he’ll sort this out like the big boy he is. He’s handled worse than cute lil�� you. 

Well, probably. He’s not so sure about that anymore, to be honest.

“Yeah, uh…” Wow. Some big boy he is; right off the start Kiba’s grip remains so tenacious that it turns his knuckles stark white, similar to those of a common coward. And as if that wasn’t bad enough already, he even has to clear his throat before he mutters back a meek, “G’mornin’.”

“Slept well?” you ask, making sure you’re quiet just enough that nobody else can hear you. The last thing you want is to scare him off.

And despite your caution, his gaze still immediately falls to the floor that had been scrubbed clean by the janitor just the previous night. “Not really,” Kiba answers, rubbing the back of his neck. The sleeve of his sky-blue shirt strains around his bicep with the action, making your eyes linger on the muscle that’s rippling underneath the cotton. God, he’s built so big and strong. So dreamy.

“Hmm?” Batting your eyelashes, you pretend to be coy just because of the flex alone. “How so, Sir?”

He swallows hard at the title; his Adam’s apple bobbing. The way he’s scratching the back of his head is so unnerving. “Well…”

“Not to be nosy, or anything,” you say, and before he can even start another sentence, you intrude with a grin, “but I can’t help but wonder what exactly was the thing that had kept you awake at night?”

Why, you little minx.

Your head tilts to the side at the timid nature he portrays all of a sudden. He’s jittery as hell, even more so when you step onto the tips of your toes to observe him even more closely. By the time you run your eyes along the sharp line of his jaw and skip over the freckles dusting the bridge of his nose, he’s feeling nauseous just from how fast his heartbeat has gotten behind that broad ribcage of his. Even a thin film of sweat covers his forehead now, making his tan skin slightly glisten under the fluorescent lights of the school.

You’re just dressed so cute, it’s no wonder he’s sweating. A short skirt that’s just up to code from how high it reaches above your knees, and a pretty blouse tucked right into it; the buttons properly done all the way up unlike his own. Looking so nice and tidy, he just wants to ruin you entirely. Especially because he now knows what’s hiding underneath the pretty skirt that you insist on flaunting around him.

Yes, he actually knows. The blood that’s previously been turning his ears hot, rushes straight below Kiba’s belt at the realization. 

And so, all of the arrogance is gone in mere seconds; the subtle disdain that he usually offers you whenever you step foot inside his classroom, nowhere to be seen now. Standing in their place are nothing but nervousness and fidgety fingers – to which you secretly offer just the tiniest fraction of your attention towards for reasons you’ll never admit to a living soul besides him – perhaps.

However, nervous or not, Mr. Inuzuka still manages to move before you can get another word in, or better yet: lean into him even further. He steps to the side in one fluid movement, causing space between you whilst giving the keys in his hand a single, nerve-wracking spin again. 

The sound of the jingle makes you want to chuckle, but you resist the temptation as you fix your bag onto your shoulder and plant your heels back onto the ground.

“Cat got your tongue, Sir?” The smile you offer makes him want to teach you a lesson. A proper one.

“See you in class,” he disregards your witty comment instead, gaze already flicking onto just about anything but you. He clears his throat again, the hand that had just been rubbing his neck, running through his chestnut hair now. Goodness, the unruly spikes look so fluffy to the touch, you wanna twirl one right around your finger. Especially as his voice softens and he says, “Try not to be late for once, yeah?”

Your smile comes off as more of a smirk than anything else, even though he can’t see it because he’s already headed towards the door leading to the place you’re not allowed to enter; is practically scurrying down the hall like a petrified little puppy despite being so fucking big. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Mr. Inuzuka.” 

Oh, fuck you, Kiba thinks as he dismisses you with a flick of the wrist. 

But goddammit, in the span of a just mere couple of seconds, he slows down as the distance between you increases. Turns his head back. As if an invisible rope is tugging him right back to you, he looks over his shoulder; looks at you. And there you are. 

Looking right back. 

—

“Kiba,” Mr. Aburame acknowledges his colleague with a subtle jerk of his chin the moment he frantically steps foot inside the teachers’ lounge. “Good morn-”

“Yeah, mornin’,” the man in question cuts in, absent-mindedly walking right past Shino as if he were a mere ghost. He doesn’t even spare him a glance, much less his signature grin. No, with his expression oddly troubled, Kiba just makes a beeline leading straight towards the coffee machine in the corner of the room, turning his back towards him in the process. 

The action could be considered rather rude – perhaps even insulting to some – however, it’s the way he looks so utterly zoned out whilst doing it that tells the entomology professor all he needs to know.

The impoliteness hadn’t been intentional at all. 

And that sparks Mr. Aburame’s attention almost immediately.

After all, Shino knows Kiba like the back of his own hand – perhaps even better than that. If the years spent working in the same building, co-existing as colleagues and later on as friends, have taught him anything, it’s that the menace that’s currently standing in the opposite corner of the room – stepping from one foot to another and looking fidgety as fuck – is quite literally his polar opposite. 

Immensely introverted and silent to a point he sometimes comes across as eerie to certain people, Shino Aburame is a man who tends to keep to himself. While Kiba thrives on chaos and mayhem, he, on the other hand, prefers logic and order.

And whilst we’re on the topic of logic, there is none whatsoever when it comes to finding an explanation for how such two different people manage to get along, nor for how exactly the dynamic proceeds to work. It’s just how things function around here; how they’ve always functioned when it comes to them.

Still, Shino remains pleased about the fact that it works, no matter that it’s unexplained and that he oftentimes comes off as aloof and uncaring when compared to his boisterous opposite. Actually, he finds it just fine. But now that the harmony has been disrupted, he finds himself feeling obligated to sort it out. So he crosses one ankle over the other and asks, “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” the brunet replies with a gesture that resembles a tired wave of his hand. His response is almost automatic. It’s like he blurts it out by default as he adds, “Jus’ dandy.”

Shino quirks a brow whilst he watches him mess around with the coffee machine. The thing is brand new and still requires some learning. “You’re sure?”

Luckily for Kiba, he keeps his face hidden as he rummages through the cupboard for his mug. “Yup,” he mumbles, popping the ‘p’. Child.

“Well, all right… It’s just that you seem to be slightly off, that is all.” And that’s worry. Concern for his friend, hidden underneath a clear statement that nobody had asked for. 

The cupboard closes with a soft click. There’s a small pause before the friend in question sighs. “I’m just tired, man.”

“Because?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Ah,” the other professor mumbles in reply. That certainly could explain his inability to focus. But on the other hand… he seemed completely fine until stumbling into one of his students. It wouldn’t hurt to ask, now would it? “Anyway, I saw you with that Senju girl earlier... Out in the hallway.”

Thump, thump, thump. Fuck, Kiba’s heart starts to hurt immediately at that. He should have known that it wouldn’t be that easy when it comes to Shino fucking Aburame. Where the fuck had he been hiding anyway? Did he hear anything? See something?

“Yeah? Ya did?” The way the mug almost slips out of his hand at the mention of you could almost be considered comical. Kiba’s jaw clenches, making the cords in his neck turn stiff and protrude against his tan skin as he grips the handle so hard his knuckles turn white from the sudden pressure. 

He swallows audibly whilst placing it under the machine. The sound of him swallowing his own spit is the only thing that can be heard besides the brewing noises to follow soon afterwards he presses the button. It’s so quiet; just him and the stupid Megamind in the room. Kiba’s arrived early for once, after all. Nobody feels the need to be here yet. “Is that what her last name is, then?”

“Yep,” is all Shino offers, popping the ‘p’ just like he had done earlier. Kiba can’t quite tell if the action is meant to mock or to comfort him.

“Well, uh,” the poor man takes a breather, rubbing the back of his neck with one twitchy palm. “You know me… Can't even remember a student’s face, much less an entire name, hah. Especially a last name like that… ‘Senju.’ Silly last name, don’t ya think?”

“Is that so?” Shino angles his head in almost a nonchalant manner, tuning in on his sudden babbling and overexplaining. “Because it seemed to me like you knew her rather well?”

Silence. And then: beep! 

Coffee’s done, Mr. Inuzuka!

Kiba jumps at the sound, looking like he might just bounce right out of his skin. He clears his throat whilst grabbing his mug almost urgently now; as if in relief that he gets to do something with his hands, even though the ceramic mug is probably going to burn the skin right off of his fingers. 

“Well, I don’t,” he says finally, eyes insisting on steering clear from the only other person in the room. He sucks in a sharp breath through pursed lips as he sets down the mug onto the counter and shakes his hands to get rid of the heat searing his palms. “Don’t know her all that well, I-I mean.” Jesus, has the room always been this hot?

“Really? You’re sure?” Mr. Aburame repeats and blinks at the loud thud that comes from the drawer as his colleague pushes it with way too much fervour right after grabbing the teaspoon.

“Yes, Shino. I don’t know her.” Fed up. Kiba mixes the sugar into his coffee with too much force, making a couple of droplets spill over the rim and onto the counter. Not bothering to clean up the little mess properly, he just swipes his hand across it.

But his stiff posture and refusal to say more don’t stop the entomology professor from prodding further, “Well, what did you talk about for so long, then? If you don’t know her like you say you don’t, of course?”

Mr. Inuzuka shrugs. “Nothing much.”

And Mr. Aburame pushes. “Try and enlighten me, please.”

“Christ.” He scrubs a tired hand across his face; two fingers rubbing circles into his left temple as if it hurts just to think. “She just said good morning, all right? Damn… What are you breathin’ down my neck for, all of a sudden?”

“Just good morning, huh? That’s interesting.” Shino doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he doesn’t believe him. Ignoring the question, he seems utterly unconvinced.

“Why are you acting so weird about this?”

“Why? Because you’re acting weird.”

Kiba groans at the stare he feels burning into his back, but otherwise remains silent; tossing the spoon into the little dishwasher they had all pitched in for the previous year. For once in his life, he doesn’t wish to talk and elaborate any further.

And that makes the other professor hum as he feigns light amusement, even though it’s much deeper than that. Much more nerve-nibbling. 

Seconds pass and nothing but thick silence settles between the two men. Not being able to endure it any longer, there’s an agitated, “What?” that’s voiced from Kiba right before the exasperated exhale joins it soon after. Before Shino can even answer, there is yet another, “What is it, dude? Spit it out.”

“Oh, nothing,” Mr. Aburame says, shrugging him off with a wave of his hand. His voice is light as a feather, despite the depth. “It just seemed to me that the girl had a lot more to say to you than you’re willing to tell me… Other than ‘good morning’, that is. But I could be wrong, of course.” He had even put the air quotes in. Damn fucker.

Chocolate brown eyes dip down to the hot drink of similar colour. Kiba blows on the liquid, the rich smell of coffee filling his nose before he takes a small sip. It warms his insides, despite that he already feels hot all over. Great. He can’t even relax enough to consume his daily dose of caffeine now.

Brows furrowed, he places the mug back onto the counter with a frown. “Well, she didn’t.”

“Do you really–”

“For fuck’s sake,” Kiba snaps, turning and meeting Shino’s eyes for the first time ever since stepping into the room. He’s clearly riled up, judging by the sudden need to adorn every single sentence with a dirty cussword. “I fuckin’ told you; she said good morning, and that’s it. Besides, even if she didn’t, what me and her have is none of your goddamn business.”

Shino’s eyes widen slightly behind the thick spectacles he never seems to take off. If he’s shocked, he definitely doesn’t show it. Even his voice remains placid with that blunt undertone he always possesses in both classroom and hallways alike as he finally breaks the quiet to say, “You must be joking.”

“What?” The zoology professor is beet red now, the blush still subtle but persistent enough to tinge his cheeks when he turns back to fully look at his colleague.

Goddammit, you and your tight little body. You just had to doll up and look so pretty today; with your uniform extra nice and tidy, thigh-high socks a crisp white and pinching the plush fat. He just couldn’t help but steal a glance when you had passed by – act all weird about it like some stupid moron, too – and now Shino is getting suspicious. “What?”

Shino’s brows knit together as he uses his pointer finger to fix his glasses that sit on the bridge of his narrow nose. He wastes no time with dilly-dallying around the subject, but his voice does turn a smidge quieter in fear of anybody walking in as he says, “She’s your student, Kiba.”

Kiba’s expression copies the one his friend wears now. He tilts his head like a dog before crossing his arms across his chest. “I know.” All wary, his posture immediately turns defensive; spine ramrod straight. He definitely does not like this piece of knowledge. “I know that she’s my student.”

Turning even more quiet, Shino says, “Well, then you should also know that you shouldn’t have anything forming between yourself and your student.”

“We were just–”

“You were looking,” the Aburame interrupts. “At your student. You even turned your head back as she passed, I saw you do it.”

The brunet blinks in surprise. “Is it illegal to look at other people now, or somethin’?” Fuck, he can feel the tingle of the blush on his face as it deepens into a darker colour. There you are: prancing around in that little skirt again right in his mind’s eye. Not now.

Shino doesn’t miss it, Kiba can tell by the downward twitch of his lips. “When you’re looking at them like that; it sure could be, considering the position you hold.”

“Wow.” Kiba’s jaw clicks in bitter disapproval as he taps his fingers against his bicep and laughs with a huff. “I didn’t even–”

“You’re red.” Mr. Aburame cuts in again. “Your face,” he gestures over to him, “it’s completely red.”

“Well, it’s hot.” That must have been the stupidest excuse he’s ever given him, even he knows that.

The entomology professor sighs before he retaliates, “The temperature in the room is the exact same as it was a couple of minutes ago. There’s nobody here but us, and as far as I know – neither of us have touched the thermostat.”

Silence lingers between the two men yet again. It’s almost half a minute of tension before Kiba swiftly spins on his heels, aiming for the door. Listening to the sound of footsteps and the soft jingle of keys that sound out immediately after, a prominent scowl forms on his sun-kissed face. Of course Shino feels the need to follow after him. 

“Kiba, just listen–”

“Get off my back, Shino.” The demand is spoken through gritted teeth. He doesn’t even turn around as he adds, “You’re fucking insane.”

“Listen–”

“No.”

“Stop behaving like a child with your little tantrum, and just listen to me already,” Mr. Aburame hisses. “You’ll cause a scene with the way you’re acting, for crying out loud.”

Kiba shakes off the hand that Shino puts onto his shoulder as if it burns him. If they weren’t in public, he’d break his fingers one after the other, he’s positive. “I said no.”

Shino’s brow furrows. “I could report you for this, you know.”

Now that does make Kiba come to an abrupt halt. 

He stops in his tracks, turns around, and takes those couple of footsteps keeping him from Mr. Aburame like an angry bull; all until he’s close enough to be glaring up at the slightly taller man with daggers in his eyes and hushed anger on his tongue, “What the fuck are you goin’ on about?” His voice goes even lower, turns even more dangerous, “There’s nothing to report.”

“Yet.” The glare he receives in return for the statement doesn’t faze a calm and collected man like Shino. Doesn’t even make him flinch, despite that he knows Kiba’s hand is absolutely itching to grab him by the front of his tweed blazer.

And speaking of Kiba; he is at a loss for words now. His expression is blanching, skin turning pale. And yet he still somehow manages to croak out, “I thought you were my friend.”

There’s actual hurt lacing his voice.

“I am.” Mr. Aburame’s shoulders slump at the disappointment in his colleague’s voice. “This is me looking out for you as your friend, can’t you see that?”

“Yeah, right.” Kiba stares at him. Something seems to shift somewhere deep within his conscience, because now he scoffs and his eyes turn hard. “Friend, huh? As far as I know, friends don’t threaten each other like that, Shino.”

“I’m serious.” Shino’s lips are a firm, straight line of not judgment, per se, but rather concern. “I don’t care what kind of opinion you have about me right now. You’re not thinking rationally, and I could report you for it.”

“Do I ever?” There’s fire inside his eyes now; caramelized sugar that’s long since been burned by the dancing flames. “Think rationally?”

There’s a pause. And then, “No.” Hesitance.

Kiba’s scowl deepens, it sits on his face like a mask. “So, are you gonna report me, then?”

It’s a talent, really – how fast he’s able to become sturdy and protect himself just by sheer will and intimidation when the need calls for it. It’s like he uses his personality as a shield, instead of the body and strong bones that hold it together.

Transforming into an entirely different person in a blink of an eye.

The entomology professor sighs, eyes unmoving from his friend’s burning stare that just refuses to budge, now. He’s nothing like the flustered mess he had been just five minutes ago. Still pale, his eyes look slightly bigger and darker than they normally do. It’s instinct for survival that makes Kiba’s eyes so big, Shino knows. They grow even larger as long seconds drift by; each of them lasting an eternity. 

Mr. Aburame has no clue how much time has passed before he finally bows his head and says, “No. I won’t.”

And all Mr. Inuzuka replies with, is a, “Thought so.” before he taps Shino’s chest roughly and walks away.

And that’s it.

—

But the problem is that that isn’t it.

Guilt still eats away at Kiba’s morality when he looks up and finds you standing across his desk at the end of his final lesson; looking eager and surprisingly – expectant.

Shino’s words from this morning had really done it for him, he can’t lie. Ever since their little argument in the teachers’ lounge, Kiba had been doing nothing but chewing on and turning over the warnings that his friend had planted into his good for nothing brain. Comparing them, too, and tossing them to the side, just to bring them right back. 

So far, the whole situation has put him onto an emotional rollercoaster; one with hundreds upon hundreds of seemingly never-ending loops. He can’t wait to get off of it, honestly.

And as if Shino being a pain in his ass wasn’t enough already, you had also offered Kiba your fair share of things to think about. Giving him the googly eyes whenever you’d seen him roaming the halls; your smile had been riddling his troubled mind even further, making him lose that last bit of focus he had been devastatingly clinging onto for hours on end.

Far too busy forming a mental pros and cons list if he should try and chase after you or not, nearly all of Kiba’s lessons had suffered for it as a result, and had ended up becoming a complete academic disaster. At this point, all he wants to do is go home and crawl into bed.

But he can’t do that with you here, of course. 

So he stays put. Like a good boy.

“Hi there,” you chime happily when he snaps back into reality and acknowledges you. “Long time no see.”

“H-hey.” Kiba’s face blooms with colour almost immediately when his voice cracks and he stutters as a result. How many more times will he blush today, goddammit?! He forces himself to maintain eye contact with you as he clears his throat, but it’s almost exhausting to do so.

Calming down his pulse is work enough, after all. You make his heartbeat accelerate with just a mere greeting. With the way you’re standing so close to him, he wouldn’t be surprised if you could actually hear it – his heart. And speaking of close, looking up at you and all your pretty glory that’s just mere inches away now: Shino’s warnings are becoming somewhat blurry and faded.

Especially so when you press both of your palms against his desk and smile at him. Just like he has a habit of doing to you.

God, he could eat you right up because of it. You’re like a little cupcake; all sugary and nice. It’s so damn hard to not stare at the way your blouse tightens around the fat of your tits, but he tries. He really tries.

“So,” you start.

“So,” he repeats, knee bouncing without stop. So nervous.

“How are you holding up?” you ask, drumming your fingers against the desk. The sound of your nails tapping the wood makes him realize how quiet the place actually is. There’s nobody left inside the classroom but him and you. Crap. 

He almost doesn’t hear you as you add, “Still tired?”

“A bit, yeah,” he chokes out finally, voice so low you hear him only because you’re leaning in so close. “I’m gonna, uh… head home soon. To get some rest.”

He’s done for the day and so are you, it seems. It’s barely half past four, but it’s already dark out. Winter sucks, it makes Kiba miss the sun. But despite all of that, he catches himself preferring the darkness outside when you round the corner of his desk and rest your lower back against it.

“Aww… Leaving so soon, Mr. Inuzuka?” He can see the way the tops of your socks dig into the soft flesh of your thighs as you pout; you’re that close. The moment you cross one ankle over the other and sigh, he follows the movement with his eyes, not being capable enough to hide the greed anymore. Fuck, even your skirt has lifted by an inch. “I was actually hoping I’d be able to talk to you about my assignment. If you don’t mind.”

“Well, I… I guess I could stay,” Kiba finds himself saying, gaze still glued to your legs that he yearns to reach out for and touch so badly, “for a lil’ bit longer…?”

Wow, he’s way easier than you’d expected.

“Really, you would? That’d be so great,” you utter, nudging his foot with your own. The sudden contact makes him visibly flinch in his chair, causing him to push away and roll back a small distance until you have to step in front of him and catch the armrests as a means to stop him.

Staring up at you now, Kiba stills entirely. You’ve got him trapped, and his breath hitches in the back of his throat because of it. So close that he can count your eyelashes one by one if he wanted to, he feels his body turn rigid by the nearly non-existent proximity. It’s all so overwhelming: your warmth, the way you look at him, the sickeningly sweet scent of strawberries that comes from the chewing gum that’s inside your mouth. 

“Going somewhere, professor?” you ask sweetly, smiling a grin that he realizes makes his legs weak. “I thought you said you and I were gonna talk.”

“We can talk,” Kiba mutters, his throat feeling so dry and tight because your hand is slipping and is touching his thigh now, “just stop with the games. I ain’t good at playin’ them.”

“What games?” You bite the inside of your cheek, puckering your lips in a way that makes you look coy despite that your hand is literally inching higher and higher. “I’m not playing any games.”

His voice is a shaky whisper, “Stop fucking with me.”

And yours is a goddamn purr, because it’s so rewarding to see him this helpless for once; it’s an absolute treat, “But, Sir… I thought you wanted me to do just that? Didn’t you like the little picture I sent you?”

“I–...” It’s hard to be mad at you when you keep batting your eyelashes at him. As if you’re this innocent little thing that doesn’t want to be bent over. Ignoring the thought, he tries to be stern as he says, “I never said that.”

“No?” You blink, eyes glazed over and pupils big. “But you were hinting at it over the phone last night, weren’t you? After I gave you my number when you had asked for it?”

“I–... You can’t–”

“Yes, I can.”

Bullseye, you’ve shot him right through the morality with that one.

It’s hard to breathe properly at this point, the accusation you’re making against him is making his vision spin. Kiba is tugging at the collar of his shirt, lips parting as he tries to let more oxygen into his lungs and say something smart back as a means to throw you off your game. 

That pathway soon becomes useless, however, because the moment he opens his mouth, you slam your own right against it without any warning whatsoever.

And just like that, he’s done. 

The kiss sucks all the air right out of him, no matter how delicate it is at first. Wipes his mind clean, makes his eyelids flutter shut. Makes him melt into you, until he’s yours to command. And fuck, the realization of what you’re doing – kissing your professor – hits you bright and clear just as it hits him. Like you’re both sitting inside a speeding car, aiming straight towards a cliff that neither of you knows how to avoid.

The drop is going to be deadly if you reach it. And that scares the shit out you, but thrills you at the same time. So it’s no wonder that he can sense your hesitancy before the courage kicks in, your lips nudging his own until he finally opens his mouth a fraction wider so that you can slip your tongue in.

And wow, he tastes sweet. Like a goddamn blueberry muffin he’s probably had for lunch earlier. You can still taste it in your mouth by the time he cups your jaw to lightly push you back so that you can part.

“What,” you gasp softly, your Cupid’s bow touching his upper lip with every word, “don’t you want me, professor? Not even a little bit?”

“No, you don’t get it… I want–” he starts, unable to finish when you kiss him again in answer. It seems to deepen the daze he’s in, making him lose his train of thought in an instant. You’re practically digging the hole for him at this point. “Fuck, I want you, pretty girl. I mean, look at you… ‘Course I want you.”

“Yeah?” You smile again, the beam sweet as summer fruit. “How bad do you want me?”

“So bad,” Kiba mumbles in an instant, brown eyes already hazy with lust when you come closer and merely hint at kissing him again. “I wanna do such nasty things to you; fuck you stupid on the desk and all of that, but I need you to sit on my dick first, ‘kay? Think you can do that?”

Your pulse quickens at how fast his decency fades, but you force yourself to remain calm. “Even if I’m your student? You still want me to do that?”

“Yeah, yeah… C’mere, now.” It’s shameful how quick he answers. Maybe if he wasn’t as down bad as a freshman at a frat party; too busy staring up at you whilst impatiently patting his thigh and tugging at your hand, he’d actually manage to acknowledge the disdain he should be feeling for himself. “Be a good girl and sit the fuck down, will you?”

His gaze is hard when you look at him, profound impatience lacing every word. That’s the Mr. Inuzuka you know, all right. All bad and horny as hell.

It seems like Shino is bound to be disappointed after all.

Because now, things are escalating fast. You’re already crawling into your handsome professor’s lap, making him spread his legs in a way that gives him better footing so that he can keep the chair from spinning. Making him groan into your mouth as his hand rests on the side of your head; thick fingers tangling into your hair with a need to push further and gain more, more, more.

But it’s all so sweet and gentle, no matter the speed. Your mouths connect and part slowly, thin strings of saliva barely there. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and dips down to trace the curve of your hip with the tips of his fingers. Unusually cautious; he’s taking his time, trying to calm himself down during it. 

By the time he allows his hands to finally begin roaming your body, Kiba’s lips are already sticky from how much lip gloss you’ve managed to smear onto them with your own.

So keeping the steadiness in mind, poor, flustered Mr. Inuzuka starts with your thighs first. He reaches the hem of your skirt and pushes it ever so slightly up your legs before he rounds the curve and squeezes your ass instead. His hands become full immediately, and you definitely like to be groped like this; you tell him that with the way you preen and start to claw at his fancy dress shirt like you’re some desperate kitty in heat.

You’re already grinding against him, so young and demanding that he can barely keep up. Making him plead for you to do something – anything. And you may pretend that you’re calm and collected, perhaps even nonchalant, but your pussy is clenching; sopping hole fluttering around nothing. He’s pressed so tight against you after all, nudging you right between your legs – the ridge of him prominent. 

And it’s all so warm, Kiba can feel the heat right through his pants. Can feel how warm and soft your little cunt is as you press it even harder against his clothed cock and start to grind against it; dragging it up and down in these slow, salacious kind of movements that could, quite frankly, make him consider marriage at this point.

Blood rushes south at the contact, leaving his head empty aside from the overwhelming buzz that’s otherwise plaguing his mind. His dick is starting to strain his pants, and the pressure from the zipper hurts. Growing big and hard fast, the cotton of his underwear sticks to him because of the pre-cum that’s already leaking underneath.

“Fuck,” he hushes so quietly that you want to laugh, his rough palm drawing patterns over the curve of your spine. He’s a greedy man, his hands touch you all over when you hide your face into the crook of his neck and start to kiss him there, eager mouth searching for his sweetspot. 

He seems to have one everywhere – a sweetspot – as long as the kisses come from you. The little affections are even making his hair stand up; are making him bare his teeth. “You gotta–... Mmh, you gotta do something, pretty. My dick is starting to hurt, so how ‘bout you lemme shove it in that cute pussy of yours, yeah?”

“Is it, now?” Your hands grip his broad shoulders as you readjust yourself, every word resembling a soft purr. The smirk that adorns your lips the moment he stiffens underneath you touches his pulse point, now. His heartbeat is so fast that your own feels like it’s stalling behind. “Need me to make it all better? To fuck you until it doesn’t hurt anymore?”

He starts nodding vehemently when your hands land on his chest and start fiddling with the buttons instead; pushing his limits even further, making him see red. You’re holding him in the palm of your hand and he doesn’t even know it yet. No matter what framed degree he hangs on his wall, he’ll still turn dumb at the mere chance of scoring some pussy.

Your nostrils flare as you exhale through your nose in a derisive huff. “Can you ask for it nicely, maybe?”

“Please.” The word is breathless, a mere pant, but it’s blurted out quickly. He clears his throat when you raise your eyebrows; tries to hide the blush that overtakes his entire face as you wait for him to try again. “Pretty please.”

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” You kiss him once more before ending the affection much too quickly for his liking. A lewd pop noise forms; one that usually sounds out whenever you’re finished with a sucker, not your zoology professor’s mouth. “Lemme take care of it, now.”

“Why are you– Oh.”

The small wink you offer him as you slide off of his lap and kneel right between his legs makes Kiba’s heart stammer and his chest tighten as the realization of what’s to happen sinks in. 

He takes the hint of what you’re trying to do now, and he just can’t help it, but this lewd sort of happiness overtakes him in an instant. You’re just so young; still thriving in your slut-era, which most of his ex-girlfriends had long since moved on from in search of boring routine and family-oriented weekend trips he’d much rather miss out on than attend. 

But you – you’re not even nearly there yet. No, as you kneel in front of him: clearly willing to take his dick down your throat right underneath the desk, perhaps even contemplating the chance of letting him cum all over your face at the end of it, you’re absolutely perfect. You’re a mere pet; one that loves sucking up to her teacher. Quite literally.

So he spreads his legs wider, giving you the space you need as his insides begin to twist with naughty anticipation. He’s excited; throbbing in his pants, his dick eager to meet your throat. “How come you wanna do this instead of sitting on me? Wouldn’t it be easier to just let me do all the work?”

“It’s just–...” It’s hard to hide the tremble of your fingers as you reach up to unbuckle his belt and undo the button of his pants. The nerves are finally catching up to you. “I wanna leave a good first impression.”

Kiba’s toes twitch in his shoes when you trace the ridge that pushes up as soon as the zipper is tugged all the way down, heat rushing up his thighs. The way you palm him over his boxers tells him that you’ve definitely held a cock before. Good for you, even though it’s hard to ignore the sudden flash of jealousy. What the fuck is he feeling envious for? “And why is that?” 

“Because,” you say, your shrug seemingly nonchalant, even if you’re far from it, “if I suck your cock good enough, then maybe you’ll consider giving me a decent grade on my assignment…?”

Oh.

“You’ll like me more if I do that, right?” His voice is a mere mumble now, a gentle coo, “Like you told me last night?”

“Mhmm.” His fingers graze your cheek. You can see his pupils dilate when you press your lips to one fingertip and kiss it. He’s completely red in the face again by the time you kiss another one and add, “I’ll love you for it, actually.”

“Oh, honey.” 

“Yes, baby?”

Kiba’s eyes turn soft like his heart does at that, and he needs to remind himself that you’re just using him. After all, there’s literally no way in hell that a young, pretty thing like yourself would be at all interested in loving a man that’s inching towards his mid-thirties and teaches stupid college kids for a living. And come to think of it, why should he be even thinking about a thing like that; much less stressing over it? 

Wasn’t he perfectly content being alone?

So he blinks. Snaps out of it and taps your temple twice as if he’s trying to get through to that wicked brain of yours, tone all of a sudden patronizing and complacent instead of warm, “As far as I remember, the due date was two weeks ago.”

You blink, too. Surprised. “Yes, but–”

“So, is that my problem, then? My fault?”

What? “But–”

He taps your temple again. “I asked you a question, sweetheart.”

“No, sir.” Heat creeps up your neck at how stern he is with you all of a sudden. It seems that a switch had been flicked inside his head, you’ve said something he didn’t like. Finally gaining the self-control he’s been desperately trying to grasp for all this time, he’s back to being mean again. “It isn’t your fault.”

“The best I can give you is a D.” He pauses to look down at you. And winks.

Rolling your eyes, you puff out an exasperated exhale. “Funny.” Fucker.

“I think so, too. Now,” he says, “are you gonna take it or not?”

“I will.” You pout at the change of demeanor, digits tightening around his girth when his hand rests atop your own. He still hasn’t given any hint that he’ll give you a better grade, but he does coax you into palming him slowly now; guiding you to a steady rhythm that drags across his entire length. 

Christ, he’s so big that you can feel the pain in your throat already. It makes your mouth salivate. “Professor…”

“Mm?”

“About my grade…?”

Ouch.

“Tell you what– hah…” The chuckle that slips past his lips and interrupts him mid-sentence never seems to reach his eyes. “You look mad cute on your knees like that, so if you blow me good enough, I’ll consider raising your grade. How’s that sound?”

“I thought you wanted me to sit on your dick?” you grumble, but hook your fingers to the waistband of his boxers in silent agreement. It’s about time you face the monster cock that’s hiding underneath.

“I thought you wanted to leave a good first impression?” he quips in an instant, brain working at full capacity, now that you aren’t all lovey-dovey with him anymore and aren’t kissing him all over. The fact that he sort of wants it back makes him feel bitter inside. It’s all so fucked up and makes him all the more agitated. “Stop actin’ bratty. You’re not gonna win.”

“I liked you more when you were all red and stuttering, you know,” you manage to say before your breath hitches as you at long last tug down the waistband and get a good look at him. Your eyes look sad despite the hearts in them. “You were actually nice to me.”

His own heart stutters deep in his chest at that. It’s almost enough to break him.

Almost. But not quite enough.

“Yeah? Well, that’s just too bad now, is it?” His gaze turns heavy-lidded the moment you press a kiss right atop the vein that runs along his entire length. The skin your lips touch is silky smooth, its warmth transferring to your hand and nestling itself between your fingers. You can feel the rush of blood within – the heat makes him readjust himself on his chair as he grips the armrest tighter. “Maybe if you weren’t trying to take advantage of me, I wouldn’t be such a dick.”

“That’s rather ironic, don’t you think?” You sigh, giving him the smallest kitten lick to lap up the bead of pre-cum that’s leaking out of the head already. His teeth sink into his bottom lip at that; eyelids turning even heavier at the sensation. The salt is fast to melt on your tongue as you say, “I mean, aren’t you taking advantage of me, too?”

His hand rests on the side of your head, thumb stroking your cheekbone before he touches the corner of your lips. There’s a beat of silence – a comfortable one, despite all the words that want out. But instead of answering the question, he just says, “I don’t like being used.” 

“Me neither,” is all you reply before you open your mouth wider to take him.

It’s hard to resist a groan for Kiba when you finally start to suck. Everything hits him all at once. Your ‘o’ face is adorable. Lips plush and cheeks hollowed; throat tight. The way you twirl your tongue is skilful, clearly experienced. It drags drool all over his cock, making it even easier for him to push it deeper as you attempt to relax.

“That’s it,” he mutters, running his fingers through your hair. He pulls it back from your face, helps you out. Like a proper gentleman, even if he’s far from it. “Such a good girl... So pretty, with a mouth full of cock.”

You try to pretend you don’t drink up the praise. He pretends he doesn’t notice it.

He’s deep in your throat fast – bulging. Throbbing and twitching, you can feel every rush of blood that makes him harder, bigger. When you push your tongue out to take more inches, it makes his palm slam flat against the desk. Even his digits curl at the pleasure. Knuckles turn stark white.

The tears come forth only when he’s more than halfway down your throat, turning the whites in your eyes glassy. It’s not long before the gag follows, the first tear spilling and messing up your mascara as it slides down your cheek. He snickers at that, his lips twitching as you pull back to take a breath. There are strings of saliva connecting you to him already – thick and glimmering ropes of silver that break only when you use your hand to stroke him. 

“Pretty good,” he comments with a smile, mischief prominent in his eyes. He’s clearly over the moon, but he isn’t going to tell you that, of course.

“I know.” You gasp for air but keep the sass. One quick little breather before taking him again, you’re rubbing your cheek against his dick – nearly worshiping it. “I can take more, though.”

“Yeah?” His brow arches. His heartbeat is just about to become violently quick from how you keep petting yourself against his cock. Goddamn, who knew the younger generation was so messed up? “Gonna do a lil’ show-and-tell for me, then?” 

The moment you nod, he’s on you. With his hand on the back of your head, he pushes you further now; doesn’t exactly force you to take more, but clearly encourages it in his brutish ways. His eyes are big and dark when you look up through your blurry vision. They watch your every move, warm and rich like hot chocolate.

Christ, you’re so into this. Clearly adore sucking dick just to make men weak in the knees. The sounds of your sloppy blowjob fill the classroom, they make him only fall harder for you. But despite all of that, and how they present such a lovely contrast to the dull subject he otherwise teaches inside the space, he’s becoming worried someone might walk in and hear you.

He never locked the door, did he?

Kiba’s hand tightens its hold on the desk at the thought; blunt nails sinking deep into the wood. It’s dangerous and it might ruin his life, he knows, but you’re already here, aren’t you? Already choking on his cock, making it glimmer with your drool that’s only there because of how exquisitely sloppy you are.

So, what’s a little more risk? 

He doesn’t think anymore as he tugs on your hair and makes you moan in answer. Doesn’t ponder anymore the moment the whine slips out of your already full mouth. No, he just focuses on the shiver running down his spine, turning his mind even more blank than it already was. 

It’s such a delicate little noise – your moan. One that brings him closer to cumming in an instant, especially because you suck him in even harder now and your tits are rubbing against his thighs like you’re some deity with a whorish mouth.

No, seriously. You know how to work that mouth so well. The way you take his cock down your throat forces sweat to coat his brow. It’s all so intense; the fever in his belly rising every time you use your hand to stroke the length you can’t reach with your lips. You even cup his balls and squeeze them in a way that makes his toes curl in his shoes again. Pull your head back to drag your tongue along the side of his dick, kissing it softly before sucking it again. All of that.

He’s groaning and sweating. Manspreading and pushing back into his chair. Blushing, cursing.

So it’s no surprise how it takes him only mere minutes to cum. You don’t even have to try for long because you’re his student, his little pet that’s just too good at sucking his cock and fulfilling a fantasy he didn’t even know he had hidden somewhere deep within him. It’s all so easy.

“Jus’ a lil’-... m-more, sweetheart.” He’s panting now, holding on for dear life. “Oh, fuck yeah, mhmm.”

The thrill only shortens his line of endurance. As the bobbing of your head quickens and your throat tightens, holding him prisoner – he’s done. Your eyes squeeze shut, mascara running; drool escaping the corners of your lips as you fight back a gag from the way he hits the back of your throat. His teeth sink into the knuckles of his fist to stifle the guttural moan that’s about to leave his mouth as soon as that last twitch hits him and heat spills inside his stomach.

And then he starts to cum.

His chest is heaving during it, eyes closing the moment your own open. He’s such a gorgeous man; so handsome in the most rugged way. His jaw is clenched tight as your own turns slack from hurting so much. Chestnut hair tousled and chiseled cheeks red, you want to kiss him, no matter the thick layer of sweat on his skin. 

But you know better than to move whilst a man is cumming, it makes them too sensitive to function properly and it’d probably hurt him more than please him if you chose to suck the life out of him right in that moment. 

So you stay put. Allow the thick ropes of white to coat your tongue like a good girl, and slowly start to feel him soften in your mouth. 

His release tastes salty and slightly bitter; probably because of the beer he’s told you about drinking last night and because of all the stress he’s endured ever since. Perhaps you should treat him to a fruit salad and tell him to fucking relax when you get the chance. Perhaps.

“Hey… I’m done,” he whispers after a while, his fingers caressing your face to bring you back from your trance. The intensity you’ve made him cum with has turned his voice appealingly raspy. He’s not just done, he’s finished. Utterly spent.

You blink after staring at him for too long, eyelashes fluttering. Slackening your jaw even further, you let him pull his softening cock out of your mouth. Oops.

Kiba sighs, gaze almost droopy as he reaches to take care of the single droplet of cum leaking out the sensitive head. He’s still half-hard, still so hung even though he’s spilled everything he’s had. But you lean in before he can. Help him by cleaning up the droplet by dragging your tongue across it instead. 

And that turns him wide-eyed, makes his upper lip quiver with a subtle hiss as you continue to tidy him up all nice and neat, and keep doing so until all he has left to do is zip up his pants and fix the button. You don’t miss the lovestruck expression adorning his face now. He’s infatuated. So easy.

But so are you.

Silence lingers as you stare at each other; him in his chair, you on your knees. Chests rising and falling in nearly the same rhythm but not quite.

He offers you his hand after a moment of thought. “Will a B suffice?”

You take it in a heartbeat. It’s much bigger than yours. So warm that it makes you burn from within as he pulls you up, fingers long and thick to touch your own. “I don’t care about the grade anymore, professor.”

“No?” He finds it hard to hide a smile as you sit onto his lap and fix his collar. “How come?”

“It’s like you said,” you mumble, avoiding eye contact. 

“You don’t like being used.”

—

The next few weeks to follow are interesting, to say the least.

You haven’t done anything else with Professor Inuzuka ever since that Friday in his classroom. Excluding the couple of kisses you’ve shared, he’s left you feeling utterly confused after parting that same evening; has sparked something you don’t particularly understand, and has jumbled your heartstrings into a messy knot that closely resembles the old headphones you had kept inside your pocket before switching to AirPods. 

And besides leaving you puzzled, your growing feelings for him had also been the sole reason why you’d chosen not to take advantage of him and his position.

Somewhere in-between, you had just realized that you were on your knees – sucking his dick, not because you had to, but because you wanted to. Wanted him. 

And whilst your decision had been rather sweet, he’d still chosen to take pity on you by grading your assignment through rose-coloured spectacles first thing Monday morning. 

C+, with a little note of encouragement attached. Way more than you’d expected to get from him, to be honest. It seems that your blowjob really was superb.

But even after getting the grade, you still continue to talk to him. Usually over the phone, all of your conversations are kept on the down low as a precaution to not attract any unnecessary attention. After all, he’s told you all about Mr. Aburame and his suspicions, which certainly explains why the man has been patrolling and swooping above you like a hawk whenever you sit in his entomology class whilst Kiba attempts to fix his friendship with him. It just makes you all the more careful.

Speaking of Kiba, you exchange brief glances with him whenever you pass by each other in the halls. It’s almost invisible – the look – but you catch the meek twitch of one corner of his mouth whenever you smile and say good morning. He always just nods his head in reply. It’s become quite the routine.

And it’s all so discreet, too: the subtle way his eyes follow you, the mere brush of his arm against your own before the second of contact passes and it’s all over as quickly as it started. And that’s pretty much it.

Because unlike yourself, Kiba holds back. Like, really holds back. He’s still trying to figure out what he wants; if he’s ready to commit. So he merely dips his toes in the water occasionally, and doesn’t give you special treatment of any kind – not even in his classroom. 

He doesn’t hug you or kiss you. Doesn’t text you good morning and good night. You take the same exams as everyone else, complete the same assignments and study for the same final. 

But sometimes – rarely – he softens. Allows himself the pleasure of something more. Like right now – indulging in a completely spontaneous study session, for example. One that’s held at his apartment, the only person he’s teaching being you. 

How fun.

“Ugh… I’m not quite getting this, Si– Kiba.” Saying his first name so casually, without any title whatsoever, still feels weird. He had insisted that you use it whenever you’re alone, but to remain wary when you’re in public because of obvious reasons. After testing it out for a couple of weeks or so, you suppose that you’ll stop mixing it up with ‘Sir’ eventually.

The small chuckle he lets out right after your whiny sentence immediately brushes the nape of your neck. You’re sitting on his bed, staring at the screen of your laptop that you’d brought with you, with your back propped against his chest. It’s all so comfortable and cozy that you could fall right asleep if you didn’t have something else already riddling your mind.

Something rather nasty and naughty.

Because with each passing minute, you can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, as well as the way how it grows faster whenever you move; how it spikes when you touch him. Despite the white cotton t-shirt he has on, his skin is warm and smells like coconut. He’s all fresh and tidy, like he’s showered just before you got here.

And does that mean something? Sadly, you can’t tell when it comes to him. He’s one confusing man, constantly refusing to let you into his fickle mind.

“You wanna take a lil’ break?” The light kiss he presses to your neck all of a sudden yanks you from your thoughts. He’s so cautious all the time, but seems to be more willing to give affection in the safety of his home. It makes you all the more eager to accept it, especially as the tip of his nose brushes your jawline and he says, “It’ll probably help you focus later on.”

“Yes, please,” you chime, despite that you can’t focus at all. Not when his mouth is this close to your pulse point, at least. “A break sounds so nice, actually.” Goodness, your tone is so sugary that you might just give yourself a toothache. 

“We can watch a movie if you’d like?” he says as he begins to pull back, thoughts innocent for a change. “‘Cause I think I’ve still got–”

“How about we stay like this for a while instead…?” Fingers tangling into his hair, you bring him right back. Make his mouth linger in the very same spot he had been accommodating before. “Pretty please, hmm?”

He stiffens underneath you in an instant, you swear that you can feel the tension that overtakes him so fucking fast. Even more so as you run your fingers through the brown locks and tug, twirling one right around your finger like you’ve always wanted to do.

“Well, I, uh–” He stumbles now, his breath shaky before he swallows hard. “I suppose that we can?”

“Yay, great!” Your tiny cheer is hushed. The room has become so dark, shadows dance across the walls of his bedroom that you haven’t gotten the chance to look at more clearly. It’s almost six already. Winter really is fast to push away the sun, and you hate walking in the dark, but maybe you can convince him to let you stay the night if you play your cards right.

“So…” He’s so quiet as he asks, “What do you wanna do, then?”

“Well…” And you’re so confident as you reply, “I think you know.”

“Do I?”

“Mhmm.”

Silence.

“You want me to…?” He stops immediately, unable to finish the sentence. It’s so cute how awkward he gets whenever you obtain the dominant role. It might be the risk of losing the way he lives his life. Might be the pride. You suppose you’ll never know.

“Yeah,” you finish for him simply.

Silence falls between you again as he thinks. Eons pass and you hear his breathing quicken with each one. His voice is deeper than it normally is as he suddenly says, “Shut the laptop, then.”

You do as he asks without another word, of course you do. You even shove the device onto the edge of the bed with the help of your foot to gain more room. 

The darkness to fall upon the space gradually eases Kiba’s worries as he lets his eyes get used to the shadows. They make him more comfortable because the shame isn’t as visible when they’re near. Especially as your hand lands atop of his own and guides it right between your legs so effortlessly that he knows you’ve pulled the same trick on someone else before. 

But it doesn't matter. He’s too busy purring, because the other one continuously strokes his cheek, your fingers pricked by the stubble to scrape the skin. It’s as if you’re urging him on. Coaxing him to succumb. Maybe it isn’t his fault, but yours.

Still, he doesn’t dare say anything. Just stares straight ahead, eyes focused on the window across the room as he starts to stroke your thighs; nice and slow. He does it for several minutes, easing his touch closer and closer to the center. Traces it ever so gently and hears you fight back a curse. 

He traces the waistband of your cute leggings, then. Glides one finger along the edge and listens to your breathing stagger when his hand finally slips underneath them and your equally as cute underwear. 

And fuck, your little cunt is so fucking soft. Sticky and warm right at the first touch, it’s delightful. The little button of nerves he presses his finger against the moment he finds it makes you squirm instantly. He applies pressure steadily, experience telling him it’s better this way instead of going all in at once. So he circles slowly, parts your gooey pussy lips even slower. Gathers the wetness and feels your back arch against him in answer.

Your Cupid’s bow twitches when his other hand sneaks up to your tits without any warning whatsoever, making its way right underneath your t-shirt. He pinches your nipple between two rough fingertips and circles your clit at the same time. It makes you burn from within as your head falls back against his shoulder.

The flames grow bigger and hotter when he hunches slightly to kiss your neck, then. Chestnut hair tickles your cheek as he opens his mouth by a fraction and latches it to your throat; the scent of coconut overriding your senses fast. His tongue is warm as it twirls across the tendon on your neck repeatedly, preparing the terrain for his teeth, which he sinks into you when you least expect it. 

When both of his incisors strike home, you flutter your eyelids shut despite the darkness. The sensation turns your vision violet, with dots of dark blue.

The way he places a hickey onto your skin should bother you, but it doesn’t. Who cares if your friends will bombard you with questions later, all that matters right now is that it feels good. That he’s making you feel good.

Especially as his fingers reach even lower and he slowly eases two of them inside your sticky hole that craves all of his attention. Slick covering every inch of those two digits, he pushes them in right to the knuckle in a series of steady pumps that make your legs quiver and your knees want to meet.

Not once does he let you squeeze your legs shut, however. The way you try and fight against him arouses him so much that you can feel the hardness pressing against your lower back. He’s already beginning to get big – is beginning to yearn.

“Shit, shit, shit.” You finally let a moan slip after nearly fifteen minutes of sweet torture. This little mewl that makes his ears perk. That makes his cock semi-hard. “Ki–”

“Shh. Stay still,” he hushes as his other hand lands on your stomach. “I got you.”

But you aren’t listening. Making him stop just long enough so you can pull your leggings and panties down your legs in one go, you’re throwing your clothes onto the floor with one careless swing of hand. And before he can even say anything, before he can even do anything; you’re turning around and pushing against him. Crawling right on top of him.

He laughs quietly as his head hits the pillow, looking up at you with rather giddy eyes. “Somebody’s impatient, huh?”

“Shut up,” you utter before you fumble with the waistband of his sweatpants. “Been waiting for this for weeks.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” 

He only snickers in answer as you pull his cock out and begin to palm it desperately. You’ve even come to such a point that you spit onto your hand just so the drool can help you out when it comes to taking him faster; you just need him that bad. The final rush of blood to get him ready cannot come soon enough, but when it does at long last, he’s sweating and grunting – begging you to sit on him.

And despite the begging, he’s acquired that signature spark in those warm brown eyes of his by the time you finally straddle his hips and align yourself with his leaking cockhead. They burn bright – all mischievous and playful, and so fucking youthful at the face you make when you feel the stretch and still proceed to sit down on his dick like the good student you are.

You take him slowly. Inch by inch, but he’s so big that it hurts nonetheless.

His hands find your hips, one reaching up quickly to caress that same face and push back the strand of hair that obscures it. His pupils are humongous when you make eye contact, it’s ridiculous, and his voice is a mere grunt as he says, “Good lord, you feel so fuckin’ good.”

“I know,” you mumble, brow furrowed in the same focused manner his own dips into. You can smell yourself on his fingers. The scent only spurs you on. “Sure took y-you long enough to realize that.”

“I didn’t wanna lead you on,” he explains, panting. “Didn’t want ya to think I was using you, just because I didn’t make up my mind yet… Especially ‘cause you didn’t wanna do it either.”

“That’s sweet and all,” you reply, his words secretly making your pulse quicken, “but you have no clue how badly I’ve wanted your dick inside me. You’ve literally left me hanging for weeks. Get that through your thick skull, will you?”

“I’m sorry.” He snickers, the laugh soft and light. Like wind chimes. “Truly this time.”

A shiver rushes down your spine at the sound; at the feeling of warmth settling inside your belly. He’s so big inside you that it’s hard to stay still. It makes you all the more wet, causes the inner side of your thighs to glisten with transparent slick. “You better be.”

“Trust me.” He looks up at you as he speaks further, “I am. If I knew you wanted me that bad, I would have fucked you silly on the desk I grade papers on, like I told you back then.”

“I’ll take that as a promise. You owe me.” You roll your eyes at the sudden flash of ego whilst your fingers curl around the hem of your top and you pull it over your head. Fully bare and exposed, you finally feel free; skin burning hot to the touch no matter that there’s nothing to cover it anymore.

Fingers stroking your sides, Kiba’s gaze turns soft immediately at the sight of you. He seems to be struggling to find the right words, but nevertheless gathers the courage to say, “You look lovely.”

Your voice is as warm as his eyes, now, “Really?”

“Mhmm.” His eyelids grow heavy all over again. “Pretty.”

“How about now?” Poor man, he looks like he’s losing brain cells just because of getting some pussy. Especially as you lift your hips just by a few measly inches and slam them back down just as slowly. The squelch that sounds out makes both of your faces heat up instantly. “Am I still lovely?”

“Y-yeah,” he stutters and hates himself for it. Fingers twitch, pores ooze sweat. He hasn’t felt this nervous fucking a woman ever since he was nineteen. 

And while that may have been a long time ago – ages, actually – he can still compete with your peers, right? He’s still just as vigorous and full of stamina as them, right? He just needs to take it easy. To really concentrate. He’s not that old yet, he can do this, goddammit!

“Yeah?” You push him further, palms resting on his chest until his shirt is starting to crinkle underneath them. “You like seeing me sitting on your cock like this, handsome?”

Oh, Jesus motherfucking Christ–

He nods, his expression almost pained when you repeat the exact same movement. Couple inches out, then slamming back down onto them, right to the hilt. Until your clit kisses the dark hair he’s trimmed just for you. Until he’s near your cervix and feels so fucking snug beside it.

“You’re so fucking big, Kiba,” you pant, smiling. “Your cock feels–… Feels s’good inside me.”

God, you’re one nasty girl, aren’t you? Always teasing and provoking him. Making his eyes look at the place where you connect, and then smirking when you catch him ogling.

“Fuck me,” he breathes.

“I am, baby,” you reply.

“No,” he says, trying to focus, focus, focus. His hands find your hips again, one immediately slipping onto the curve of your ass to squeeze it. “Ride it, princess. Need you to move.”

Oh?

There’s a look of determination in his eye that wasn’t there before as he looks up at you and narrows his gaze. He’s so red again, it’s stupid how red he gets all the time, but you oblige by quickening your pace in a way that makes him sigh in delight.

His hand moves by its own accord. He traces your hip, rounds the curve. Glides across your soft stomach, inching up between your tits. Stops to feel your heartbeat before reaching even higher. All until he’s got it wrapped around your throat; squeezing just enough to hear you gasp.

Still completely dressed, he’s so sweaty that your fingers practically slide across his abs when you push his shirt upwards in response to him choking you. Your nails drag across the skin and firm muscle; making him hiss through gritted teeth. It hurts, but it’s not nearly enough to make him relent.

After all, the way you try to gather air into your lungs whilst bouncing on his cock is just so nice to watch. It’s all so unhurried and relaxed. Kinky. You’re so wet, he can hear it. Strings of silvery arousal that bridge the narrow gap between his cock and your cunt. He’s never had a girl this delirious before, never had the pleasure to see someone melt for him as intensely as you do right now.

You truly have been waiting for him to come around. 

With the thought still in mind, his fingers move from your throat and tangle into your hair as he pulls you closer. Your chest collides with his own; teeth clash in a messy series of kisses he initiates first. You’re both sucking on each other’s tongues, exchanging saliva and moaning into each other’s mouths when you feel him bend his knees and get ready.

“Ki–” You moan, the high-pitched squeal breaking your voice. “Ki–ba.”

“Mhmm, yeah,” he hums, eyes glazed over, mind blank. “Pretty name your professor’s got, huh? You like saying it while bouncing on his cock?”

You nod frantically, like a little bimbo. Like a good student – a teacher’s pet. Even if you wanted to answer, nothing but quiet whimpers and slutty moans manage to escape your mouth. It brings a crooked grin forth – one you’ve never seen before. It’s almost boyish.

Meanwhile, Kiba doesn’t seem to mind your inability to answer him properly. Not when he presses his lips into a firm line of concentration and starts to buck his hips upward, meeting your own halfway. Doing his fair share. Helping you out.

The first thrust makes your mouth form a tiny ‘o’ he’s already seen before. The second makes your eyelids flutter, threatening to become squeezed shut. By the third, you’re gasping and begging him for something neither of you knows what it is.

“Goddamn, you– Hah...” 

A droplet of sweat trickles down his temple at how hard he tries to keep himself in check. At how intensely he’s focusing. It’s enough to make his teeth hurt from how hard he’s gritting them. But god-fucking-damn it, the friction is wonderful. Young pussy, just for him.

And he, well, he obliterates it. Straight up ruins your tight little cunt. He lacks speed and stamina, sure, but he possesses enough raw power to bully your womb into fucking shambles just the same; even better than that. He screws you dumb, splits you in half from how deep he reaches and how harshly he makes you sink right back.

He manages to make you cum once, and almost breaks his endurance with it, too. You just get so tight when you become undone, after all; clench around his dick and suck him right in, so persistent to milk him dry. But he saves himself. Clenches his jaw again, and stills for long enough to take a breather and to calm down enough to keep on going.

But yes, even with the little breaks, he absolutely wrecks you again the moment you give him the okay to do so. He overstimulates you by rubbing tight little circles into your clit, until you’re gushing and purring for the second time around; eyes crossing and mouth drooling.

He’s doing so good. It’s a little over thirty minutes as he reaches the point of no return and can’t possibly last any longer. Thirty fucking minutes of brutal rawdogging that makes you cum once more – bullied pussy trying to milk him all over again.

“Pill?” He’s panting so hard that he can barely say the word.

You’re not doing any better, nearly wheezing, fighting for air as you reply, “Implant.”

“Good girl,” he praises, pressing you so tight against him that you can’t possibly suck a breath in. “Gonna fill you up, then… Nice and full.”

You laugh, all breathless and exhausted. “When?”

“Mm, now.”

Kiba doesn’t lie. A couple of more thrusts that are so fast and brutal that they have you spilling tears, and he really does fill you up all nice and full. Paints your velvety walls entirely white; sticks his seed so far into you that it coats your cervix and almost surely floods your womb.

“Oh, god. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck…” He squeezes his eyes shut; furrows his brow so hard that it makes his head hurt. He can even feel the end of one eyebrow twitch because of it. 

It doesn’t stop even as he calms down enough to listen to your erratic breaths that you puff out right into the crook of his neck.

“Sweetheart.” His arms release the death grip he’s held your smaller frame in until this very moment, before he cautiously runs his broad hand along your spine. You’re sweating just as much as him, he can feel the salt lingering on your skin. Christ, he really must have worked you up, huh? “You okay?”

“Mhmmm.” You’re still so high from everything that the expression you give him is comically dazed. Your head feels so heavy, you can barely keep it up from his chest. “Dandy, baby… Jus’ dandy.”

He snorts, trying to stifle his laughter immediately.

“Whaaat?” You pout when he chuckles again. “What is it, hmm?”

“Nothin’,” he mutters, lips twitching into a lazy grin. “You’re just so fucking cute, goddammit, ahh… Just wanna squeeze you to death.”

“That isn’t gonna work, you know,” you whisper, despite that you feel heat searing your face at the compliment. “One little praise isn’t gonna make me fuck you again… ‘M too tired.”

“Mm… How ‘bout a lil’ kiss, then?” He can’t believe how soft he’s become so quickly.

“Just one?”

“I can do more.”

“Hmm…” Your eyes narrow. “Alrighty then.” You can’t believe it either.

Kiba holds your face with both hands when you lean down to press your lips against his own. It’s a soft kiss. Sweet and tender, like a marshmallow roasted on a stick; all gooey inside. Promising something that could hurt you if you’re too eager to taste it before it cools off, but also offering something that can satisfy you just as well if you just take your time with it.

And speaking of hurting you; he’s bound to do it. Whatever you have right now won’t work out, it can’t possibly work out. This kind of relationship just isn’t done this way. He’s a teacher and you’re his student. And besides, he’s been alone for so long... He’ll never be able to partake in the role and fill the part you want him to play.

Or maybe, he just needs time. To get to know you, to adjust. Maybe you just need to graduate. Maybe going on a couple of dates isn't such a bad idea, because it doesn’t mean that he’s expected to settle, necessarily. Maybe you can take it slow. Make him drift, instead of sink right into it.

It’s the reason why he says, “I wanna take you out when you’re done with school. Like a real, proper date... If you’d be cool with that.”

“Why, your heart’s running away with your head, mister,” you tease, wiggling your brows when you both feel content to speak again. “What ever happened to staying away from me?”

“Well, you know what they say,” Kiba sighs, pulling you in for another tender kiss. Everything feels so intimate and warm – he’s going to burst from how good you feel.

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

tags: @mrs-bakashi

[alicepao13]

Hudson and Rex S04E16 - Dog Days Are Over - Part B

"Thank you for saying it. Because if I am to wait for my emotionally stunted partner..."

"Concussions can cause mood swings." Say no more. I've got Charlie's defense strategy all mapped out.

Fucking stab me with a knife, it will hurt less than this.

My impression is that at this point Charlie was feeling his hands as if he could still feel how they hurt after he'd punched Hoole. Or maybe the blood on them although I don't think we ever saw blood.

Or maybe he wanted to punch Michael lol

Easy, there, pal, leave some personal space. Unless you want to kiss him.

Anyway, no one can convince me that all this animosity was only because of the case. And if Sarah had seen that, she would have yelled at both of them.

I never understood what was the big deal with the DNA sample. Yes, it wasn't given willingly, but the suspect literally left his blood on the interrogation table. Obviously any judge that hears "we punched that DNA out of our suspect before collecting it" would throw it out. But when Charlie went to Sarah after talking to Michael, he only wanted her to check it to see if they were on the right track. It wouldn't be submitted as evidence. This is shown as part of his unraveling and I just can't see it that way, like with other things he does, because I agree with him on this one.

And it shouldn't be presented as a "choose between your boyfriend and your work husband or whatever label you want to put on him" situation at all. Michael shouldn't have a say in what the police does during their investigation. The fact that Sarah is considering this is what I see as her relationship interfering with her work. I understand why Charlie is upset about it. Although he's wrong about where Sarah's loyalties ultimately lie.

"Me? I'm the one taking care of all of you."

Well, that's not a red flag.

That awkwardly choreographed move from Charlie's desk to I assume somewhere quieter is giving me so much second-hand embarrassment. Like, couldn't they have done one more take?

"It wasn't the season finale yet."

Charlie: "Is that what we are?" Sarah: "All right, you know what? I don't know what we are. We almost kiss, and then we never talk about it. We nearly die frozen in each other's arms, but we never talk about it. So, no, I got not no clue what we are." Whoever figures where and when this is from gets a virtual cookie. I only changed one word and yes, I remember this quote verbatim. They could have copy pasted this and it would still be perfect for this scene. I have been giddy ever since I realized how perfect it was for Charlie and Sarah, like 2.5 years ago.

"Damn. At least I punched the right guy."

I think Sarah is annoyed that Charlie switches the subject as soon as she says that she cares. I'd have liked for her to shove the folder on him before leaving for extra dramatic effect. In any case, she has proved to him that Michael will not get to decide how they work in the SJPD.

To be continued in Part C.

[nouearth]

back again with miguel o'hara thoughts cause yes, a/b/o predator and prey? PLEASE- (consensual but maybe slight dubcon...) (maybe some slightly inaccurate a/b/o but when your a whole there's a goal /j)

- alpha miguel, who's absolutely pissed at the annoying omega spiderman, who always manages to keep interfering with his work and plans.

- he absolutely despises you, is what he says to himself, but whenever he's chasing you down, he prays that you don't happen to turn back at him, the sight of his cock straining against his suit at the thought of finally catching you...claiming you, breeding you.

- miguel loves the chase, trading blows with eachother, him chasing you down, trying to catch you in his web? its exciting.

- but what he doesn't know is that you get yourself off every day thinking about it.

- its deep in the night, and you two are at it again at some rooftop, you've gotten your heat but unbeknownst to you, miguel is in his rut. his movements become even more feral than usual, the pheromones radiating from you, your heat, is making him go crazy and erratic.

- a sudden web shoot from behind throws you on the floor face down, miguel takes no times and lunges at you, pinning you down and pulls your arms behind your back-holding both in one hand while his others rip apart your suit with talons.

- your sounds, and with the position your in, your struggling makes you grind against him unintentionally- going straight to his cock. you almost manage to get out of his hold and knock him back but his grip on your hands are strong, and miguel angrily slams you down on the floor hard-tying your hands up with his web.

- the head part of his suit fades away to admire the view, your ripped up suit, small amoujts of blood dripping from your body due to his talons and the sight of you struggling against him is making him go insane.

- miguel rips off your spidey mask and pulls your hair, "a-ah! what are you doing-mmph!" miguel kisses you, devours you, the shock of it all making you squirm againt him even more as he shoves his tongue in your mouth, capturing you in a deep kiss.

- miguel pulls away as you gasp for air-but he doesn't waste the opportunity to glob some of his spit into your mouth-you swallow immediately and its clear that both of you are succumbing to the feeling of your heat and his rut.

- its not long before he fully rips apart your suit and gets you on your back, his own suit long gone as he gets you in a mating press-knees pressed against your chest as the copius amounts of slick leaking from your hole makes it easy for him to stretch you out on his cock-and you cry out from the feeling, miguel is way too big and you struggle yet again.

- miguel has had enough, diving down and biting deep on your neck-his venom rendering you unable to move. the prey finally submits to its predator.

- miguel pounds into you aggressively, wanting to fill you up with his seed-(i don't know anything about mpreg but....)-the thought of possibly filling you up with so much cum that might lead to said scenario is dizzying, to say the least.

- you beg, you scream, you plead for your alpha to breed you, struggling against your ties when he shuts you up again with a kiss-miguel biting down on your lips and making it bleed a bit.

- miguels thrusts get even more needy and sloppy until the first shot of hot cum-he moans loudly at the relief of his big knot-while you shoot your load all over yourself.

- miguel doesn't stop cumming until another 30 seconds go by, his cock remaining hard at the sight of you covered in cum and blood, filled up to the brim with his hot seed, suit ripped to shreds....before you know it he's growling and pounding into you again, wanting to fill you up endlessly, until both of you pass out.

- safe to say, you're his omega now.

omg, i love you anon, whoever you are. you and your fantasies never fail to make me hard.

there's honestly something so endearing about someone who despises you, or at least in miguel's case, convinces himself that he hates you, but he still can't get you off of his mind. you're like poison to him, and he's only becoming more intoxicated the more he watches you.

i also imagine that miguel probably has a power trip kink. likeeee. he knows you're still training and miguel is probably the best mentor one could have. and he watches you struggle with certain moves, executing them and dodging attacks, and he uses that to his advantage to knock you down. because he loves seeing you so helpless.

urgh, i love how miguel is so rough too. like he truly does not give a shit whether he's hurting you, making you bleed, because he's selfish, drowning in his pleasure and desires as he's fucking into you, slamming himself into your pleas for him to slow down. there would be many moments where you'd reach back to attempt to slow his hips, but your arm would be twisted back and he would take your wrist, hold it to your back, stretching your body forward as you continue to take more of him in.

and heavy cummer miguel?!?!?! you already know that i'm a sucker for heavy lods (if you couldn't tell from my smut) so this thought is so scrumptious. in a way, miguel would probably be annoyed because a lot of it would leak out of you, dripping down your thighs. but then he's pacified because he's filled you up so much, to the brim, and the warmth of his loads spread inside of you, glued into you, and you couldn't do anything about it except take it like a good omega.

[makesometime]

Could I get 31 for the kiss meme? Maybe with Vesseek/Wilde or Vesseek/Zolf? Your pick!

Anything for you <3<3

31. A kiss… after a small rejection.

They’ve been staying with Oscar in London for a couple of weeks now. The clutch are making their way across Europe to help with rebuilding where they can, and Vesseek could go join them but…

There’s safety in the familiarity here. Oscar knew Grizzop. He’s one of the few left now that did. That connection means something.

(It means they end up in his bed more often than not.)

Vesseek walks through the halls of his flat (suspiciously wide) and into his kitchen (with strangely low counters) and feela the weight of a presence on their shoulders that they don’t understand. It’s not Grizzop, they know what Grizzop feels like.

It’s different. It’s heavy.

And it’s not just them that it’s weighing down.

They fix themself a meal and put some leftovers in the icebox for if Oscar decides to eat today (they tried to feed him once and he looked at them like they’d punched him, so they’ve not actively tried since). It’s probably a good day to get out of the house and find somewhere to help - Azu offered a role for them at the temple that sounded nice enough.

But... they should stop by Oscar’s office before they go anywhere. He’s not slept. Maybe they can tempt him to bed for another reason and leave once he passes out…

“Ah, Vesseek.”

Oscar's adept at pretending. Grizzop had told them as much in one of the few letters he sent back before everything went so very very wrong. But they’re starting to learn how to see beneath the mask.

“Oscar. You busy?”

He smiles, rests his chin on his upturned palm. “I am. Always.”

“Don’t suppose I can tempt you away?”

It’s the eyes. The face? That doesn’t change. But Oscar’s eyes, they reflect his entire soul, now. Vesseek wonders if he knows. They won’t tell him. They suspect whatever (whoever) caused that to happen wouldn’t be happy if they came back and found it undone.

“I, uh…”

They watch as he takes a letter from on top of his pile of work and folds it, swiftly tucking it into a torn-open envelope. 

“I don’t think so.” He says, as soft as anything. “Not today.”

They move across to him, skirting around his big desk and standing at his side. Without speaking, they put their hand on his and squeeze. 

“I’m—.”

“It’s okay.” They say. “Honestly,  don’t mind. Plenty to do.”

They submit to him raking his attention over their face, trying to tell if they’re lying to him. Apparently satisfied, he nods and then leans down, Vesseek smiling and lifting their chin.

The kiss is sweet, so they nip at his lip when he pulls back. It works - Oscar chuckles, a warm sound that makes them feel a little better about walking out of the front door and leaving him to his problems. 

“I’ll see you later, though?”

Oscar nods. “Oh I’ll be here. If nothing else is certain, darling, that much is.”

[infinite-orangepeel]

Either trans Eddie or Steve, making the other kneel in front of the couch with their mouth wide open. Whoever you pick to have a pussy just going crazy rubbing their g spot and pulling their dick so they just keep DRENCHING the other with their squirt.

oh i love this one !! thank you for submitting it 🥰 hope you enjoy the read :)

this ficlet includes: mommy steve, transmasc steve (cock, dick, pussy, clit used interchangeably), pet play, desperate af puppy!eddie, masturbation, overstimulation, degradation, cock caging, orgasm denial

eddie hates when steve rides one of his many dildos instead of him.

hates it because that should be him making steve’s pussy creamy with arousal.

that should be him stretching steve’s hole open while stroking his perfect swollen dick between two aptly applied fingers

that should be him flicking steve’s overly sensitive nipples with the cool kiss of his new tongue piercing.

but eddie’s in trouble today.

eddie’s in big trouble so he’s been demoted to kneeling on the loveless floor.

bruises forming on his knees as he gazes up at his love in all his horny glory. forbidden to touch.

steve’s perched on the couch.

he’s thrusting a lavender colored dildo in and out of his pretty pink pussy. legs spread wide to take the toy deeper—it doesn’t help that it’s exactly the position he would be in if eddie was fucking him stupid on his cock.

and eddie’s so far gone into the hazy land of subspace that he doesn’t even realize how loudly he’s whining until steve yanks on the studded leash he’s holding in his free hand.

‘quiet puppy. mommy’s doing something important. you don’t want to distract mommy do you?’ steve’s tone is patronizing and that only makes everything worse for eddie.

he wags his ass back and forth where he’s seated on the floor.

arches his back to show off the fluffy black tail plug steve bought for his birthday last week. there’s a set of matching ears attached to his curls.

‘sorry mommy. i’ll do better mommy. didn’t mean to distract you.’

steve pounds his pussy harder with the silicone and the resulting squelch is enough to make eddie drool. a line of saliva drips down onto his trapped dick and the sensation makes him shake.

‘aw pup. you’re so cock dumb for me and i haven’t even touched you. are you jealous, baby?’ steve condescends and eddie watches through eyes green with envy as steve clenches up around his toy and moans delightedly, ‘so sad you’re gonna miss the opportunity to breed mommy today but that’s what happens when you misbehave and cum without mommy’s permission. you don’t get to fill up mommy’s belly today.’

eddie squirms, feels the cage grow tighter around his purpling erection. his tail brushes against the back of his balls and he practically falls over. ‘wanna suck mommy’s cock,’ eddie tests his luck by crawling closer to steve on the couch, ‘wanna be a good puppy and let mommy squirt down my throat.’

steve perks up at that and looks deep in thought as he removes the dripping dildo and rubs it through his well slicked folds. his cock jumps in pleasure as he taps the toy onto it and shivers indulgently. slick fluid seeps from his overused hole and his pussy is so fucking puffy it physically pains eddie to not have his face buried in it.

‘you wanna suck me off, baby boy?’ steve asks sweetly and if eddie had a single coherent thought left in his mind, he might recognize the glint of mischief in steve’s honey brown eyes.

‘yes, mommy. more than anything.’

‘close your eyes for me, then. i’ll guide you to my cock, sweet thing,’ steve coos, bending forward to stroke eddie’s jaw.

without thinking for a second, eddie complies and parts his lips anticipating steve’s sweet drenched cock on his tongue.

but of course that’s not what happens.

eddie feels something heavy push past his bitten lips and it’s confusing because his taste buds receive the ambrosial taste of steve’s cum but his mouth is far too full and obstructed to be actually taking steve’s cock.

he gags. chokes. slurps around the slippery silicone and whimpers pathetically because that’s not what he wanted.

‘open your eyes and look at me,’ steve orders and when eddie does blink them open he pays witness to steve harrington experiencing pure ecstasy.

steve is jamming the dildo down eddie’s throat. fucking his fist into eddie’s mouth along with it. and between his soaked thighs are his fingers. rapidly jerking his throbbing dick and bucking his hips to meet his hand.

‘ohh there’s mommy’s boy. there he is. needy little slut—you’ll take anything mommy gives you as long as it tastes like mommy’s pussy. dumb puppy can’t tell the difference.’eddie does his best to nod around the bulge in his throat.

‘i’m gonna let you breathe but i want you to keep your tongue out for me. can you do that, puppy?’ steve takes the dildo out of eddie’s mouth and tosses it to the side.

eddie gasps for air. sucks in as much oxygen as he lungs will allow and obediently holds out his tongue as steve’s requested knowing he’s about to get rewarded. he feels giddy. he giggles and wags excitedly despite the ache of his untouched dick.

stripping his cock, steve’s legs tremble and eddie feels his collar tighten up around his neck as steve uses it to hold on through the pleasurable shock of orgasm.

‘fuck, baby. you look so pathetic like that. g-gonna squirt all over your pouty little face,’ steve groans as he cums—drenching eddie’s awaiting tongue in filthy release.

‘now get up here and clean me up puppy.’

and a few minutes later, eddie makes steve cum again just like that. feeling like the luckiest puppy in the world.

taglist (message me to be added or removed at any time <3): @estrellami-1 @disastardly @ilovecupcakesandtea @the-redthread @asbealthgn @bestofbucky @vampireinthesun @carlyv @shrimply-a-menace @lordrrascal @jjoesjonas @malachitedevil @anxiouseds @gay-little-bitch @jhrc666 @pinkdaisies1998 @mcneen @perseus-notjackson @eiddets @corroded-coffin-groupie @three-possums-playing-human @stevesbipanic @plutoshelm @arkenstoned @indiearr @they-reap-what-we-sow @gleek4twd @bunnyweasley23 @livingoutload @a-little-unsteddie @novelnovella @rugbertgoeshome @neverlandwaitingforme @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

[casspurrjoybell-24]

My Mate - Chapter 27 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

"No," I exclaimed forcefully, tucking my head in the crease of Robert's neck where his scent glands are located and his scent is the strongest.

He kept telling me I should get dressed but he didn't understand that it physically hurt.

My skin felt raw when I wasn't in contact with him.

He growled, giving up and leaning his back against the headboard.

His big hands slid up my sides and he pulled me over so I was straddling him.

Happy, I rubbed against his bare chest.

My whole body was like one big nerve and it felt almost euphoric when he touched me.

He smelt so good too... I just wanted him to hold me forever.

"You should eat," he spoke up, disrupting the silence.

His hands moving to my back.

Humming, I licked at his neck and made the male grumble as his arms tightened around me.

My licks turned to wet kisses as I followed up his neck and along his strong jaw.

I could feel how I affected him.

It would of been impossible to hide with me straddling him.

He must be uncomfortable confined in his jeans but he made no attempts to relieve himself.

Pulling back, I met his dark brown eyes and smiled.

Robert chuckled, leaning up and pressing a kiss to my lips.

"You're an Alpha now. The Alpha," I remembered.

How was I so lucky to get such a male as my Mate?

Robert is strong and respected and so... so handsome.

I'm just a plain Omega... one of the dozens in the pack.

"I am," he nodded.

"And soon I'll have the cutest fucking Luna."

My face heated and I hid it in the crease of his neck, unable to wipe off my smile.

"I'm not cute, I'm sexy," I joked and Robert laughed.

"I agree but you're still really fucking cute."

Nipping at his neck playfully, I didn't expect him to react so strongly.

His moan made me shiver and tingle.

Whining softly, I wiggled over the bulge under me.

One of the Alpha male's big hands slipped under the sheet bunched up around my waist and he roughly grabbed my bare bottom, the other hand tangled in my hair and pulled my head back.

His lips roughly smashed against mine, his tongue demanding entrance.

I submitted so easily, letting him do as he pleased.

I wanted whatever he had to offer... I even started to wonder if waiting until after the Matting Ceremony was all that important.

It wasn't like he's not my Mate... he is... what's the point of waiting to mate with him?

A loud knocking startled me so much I jumped and tumbled off the bed, squeaking.

Robert burst into laughter, his face turning red from the force of it.

"Shut up," I cried dramatically, staying where I was on the floor.

"Oh my Moon Goddess," he laughed, wiping at tears under his eyes.

I glared at him, jumping again when there was another knock.

Scrambling to me feet, I jumped on the bed and dove under the covers.

Peeking out, I watched Robert get up to see who it was.

The big idiot was still laughing at me like it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen.

My eyes traveled over the expanse of his muscular back, all the way down to where his jeans hung sensuously from his narrow hips.

My body started to ache again and I tried not to wiggle around on the bed in search of friction.

He opened the door, making me narrow my eyes because he hadn't put a shirt on.

Now eye candy for whoever was disturbing us.

"I know, I know," a female spoke up quickly before Robert could say anything.

I slammed my face a pillow at the sound of my Mom's voice.

Moon Goddess, she's going to haul me out of here.

"I brought food and drinks."

Huh? Lifting my head, I could see Robert was as confused as me.

I couldn't see mom over his broad shoulders, which was probably a good thing because I was currently naked in a male's bed.

Well, he's my Mate but surely Mom wouldn't want to see that.

Making sure I was fully covered, I pretended to be sleeping and listened as Mom passed over a cart of food.

Robert wouldn't let her step in the room, being territorial but Mom didn't seem to mind.

"Make sure he eats and drinks plenty of water," she fretted.

I smiled, silently thanking the Moon Goddess she hadn't come to drag me away.

Robert chuckled as he shut the door behind him, making sure to lock it so no one could barge in.

I sat up on my knees, eyes on the cart of food. Mom had really outdone herself.

There were snacks and bottled water on the bottom, on top was steaming lasagna and breadsticks.

I hadn't realized how hungry I was until I got a whiff of all the freshly cooked food.

Waiting impatiently, Robert unwrapped one of the plates before offering it to me.

I scooted back against the headboard and got comfortable while Robert got his own plate.

Shoveling food in my mouth, I moaned.

"Make sure to breathe," Robby teased.

I didn't respond, only snatched one of the breadsticks off his plate.

Nothing else was said, the both of us too busy inhaling my Mom's food.

When we were finished, Robert piled everything back on the cart.

We laid there, stuffed and content.

"Don't tell my Mom I said this but your mom's food is the best," Robby said.

Giggling, I turned onto my side and cuddled up against him.

"I think that's why she was hired as head chef."

Everyone knew that when Luna came into the kitchen to help, to give her something minimal to do that wouldn't spoil the whole meal.

The same kind of jobs I was given.

"One time she cooked us dinner and Dad made us eat her burnt meatloaf."

His hand started rubbing my back soothingly and I hummed.

"I haven't had meatloaf since," he said, a look of horror on his face from the memory.

"Do you remember when she made chicken noodle soup and everyone got sick?" I snickered and Robby groaned.

"I think that's when Mom finally realized she couldn't cook."

"Well if giving half the pack food poisoning didn't do it, who knows what would have."

"Death," Robby chuckled.

We continued sharing stories and joking around.

As much as I enjoyed listening to my Mate's voice and learning anything I could about him, I was constantly distracted by the ache throughout my body.

It was strange, being so desperate for his touch.

'My heats' had never been so intense.

I could go a week with mild cramps and the occasional horniness but there was never this unavoidable need to be touched.

What was really bothering me, was that Robert hadn't even attempted touching me in the way I so blatantly wanted.

Any other male would of had his way with me.

Did my own Mate not want me in that way?

Grumpy, I rolled on top of Robby.

He paused in his mindless banter about humans to look at me.

Scooting down, I straddled his thighs and boldly grabbed his jeans to unbutton them.

"Woah," Robby gripped my hands, sitting up quickly.

"What are you doing?"

"I just wanna see," I lied and he knew it.

I wanted to do more than just look.

He raised a brow, his eyes searching mine.

I knew he probably thought it was just 'my heat' talking... it wasn't.

I was curious and I did want to see him, all of him... he's my Mate.

My Heat may be giving me a little nudge and the confidence boost I needed to initiate anything, but that's all.

Robert didn't look so sure.

"We should wait until after our Mating Ceremony."

"You let others touch you, why not me?" the words flew out without much thought, my feelings hurt.

Was it because I wasn't as pretty as the male I'd found in his bed?

I knew it was a stupid thought and wrong of me but I was jealous.

Others had seen all of my Mate, had seen him in the throes of passion, had touched him and been touched by him.

Even my heat couldn't get rid of the lingering thought in the back of my mind, the knowledge that Robert had been with others.

Mom had always told me that kind of intimacy was only to be shared between Mates who love each other.

"Fuck off, Torin," Robby spat, his jaw ticking and exposing his anger.

He pushed me off him before he got up and slammed the bathroom door shut behind him.

Pulling the cover over my head, I pouted, upset with myself.

Of course I had to mess up and ruin what had been a good day.

Only minutes ago we had been joking and laughing.

I should have been satisfied with cuddling.

Now my Mate was in a bad mood because of me.

[love-toxin]

OH GOD...

I saw your porn star Steve drabble, and I...

The fruity four taking your virginity, but all of them are pornstars and they're all yandere for you.

CAN YOU IMAGINE????

HEH.....HEH.......HEHEH!!!!

(cws: fruity four, modern/pornstar au, f!angelface, only the slightest inkling of possessiveness, camming, mentions of anal/pegging/dark sexual fantasies/squirting/femdom/sex toys/masturbation/virginity loss)

So. As we've established: Anal King Steve. But as for the others, they range with varying degrees of notoriety and popularity, but they're all pretty well-known nonetheless because they all associate with Steve, who is by far the most recognized.

Obviously, most of Steve's work is anal-based, although he didn't necessarily start out that way. He mostly just made use of a spicy twitter account to post his nudes and a couple videos, and before long he got contacted by an agency for some newbie scenes and ended up getting super popular. He mostly started out with just the generic stuff, but with peppering his self-directed movies with his preferred kink, his career really took off and he became very well-known in the anal category. Plenty of videos with titles like "(Insert porn actress) gets her ass stretched for the first time by King Steve", where the content is usually sweet and only on the cusp of being rough. But he's delved into the genre of painal plenty of times before, and while he's a gentle giant most of the time, he's deliriously sexy when he's being mean and holding down his chosen costar to pummel their poor ass into submitting to him.

Nancy's an acquired taste. Her femdom videos can either be sweet and very darling with all her cute clothes and girl-next-door appearance, or they can be brutal and she can exercise the full extent of her dommy mommy persona. But she's actually in one of the top earners for her category because of how big her singular donations can get--in a private camshow, she can earn up to thousands of dollars just by offering the pleasure of degrading whoever it is that's paid for her precious time. Pegging is one of her popular categories too, with both men and women happily submitting to Mistress as she turns their subby little brains into mush. Despite coming off as a top, she likes bottoming and being a little more relaxed and submissive too, she just usually keeps that for home sex so she can keep up her image online.

Robin's a very popular sub online, she has people flooding her comments with sweet, needy compliments and envy at the girls she does movies with. She cams a lot despite coming off as awkward and shy oftentimes, and it makes her some serious money especially when she does request streams, where she's completely at the mercy of her viewers. She's had to replace her donation-controlled vibrator several times now, since it's such a popular event on her livestreams that people will pool their donations on repeat just so Robin ends up cumming uncontrollably when it doesn't stop, terrorizing her poor, sensitive clit on the highest setting for all her viewers to enioy. She does a lot of squirting videos ever since she learned how to make herself do it, although she's also a fan of tribbing and facesitting too, especially when she's the one getting absolutely ruined by a pretty girl on top of her.

Eddie's pretty popular as a non-traditional pornstar. He started out doing more hardcore stuff, uncommon kinks and other stuff that tickles the fancy of those who like darker fantasies, and he stars less in actual productions and mostly relies on twitter and his OF. He does everything from knifeplay, handcuffs, and cnc to choking and heavy bondage, slasher cosplays and blood kinks and waxplay and hard domination--and then, here and there, he'll surprise his viewers with a very intimate and affectionate video with lots of kissing, hair stroking, and praise whispered into his partner's ear. He's got range. Lots of thirst traps and desperate people in his DMs, despite being so accessible he's got that aura of being some cool, unattainable man with a dick thick enough to break you. But he's such a senseless dork in real life, it's honestly such a shocking shift in personality for anyone that might only know him online.

And when the four of them individually announced their "group collaboration" with the other three, all four fanbases went wild. Four incredibly hot pornstars moving into one house together, with all the opportunity for collaborative videos one could ask for? It's a dream come true for any fan of theirs, save some of the obsessive weirdos and creeps. However, the fifth room in their new house poses a bit of a problem--it's a waste to leave it empty, but they don't have anything to really fill it, so Steve decides to post an ad for a roommate but avoids any association with his or the other's profession. Don't want some stalker or psycho moving in just to try and take advantage of any of them, so Steve just puts up the ad in a Hawkins-based forum and waits to get a response.

When you show up on their doorstep, though, fuck. He didn't think you'd be this cute in person, even though you had sent a picture to identify yourself along with some of your ID to sign for the lease. Being from out of town you'd been desperate to find a place to stay on your low budget, and you didn't mind living in a co-ed with multiple people, so you fit the main two standards. As for everything else, you seem eager to keep things clean and you offer to help out with whatever chores that need doing, as long as they're within your capability, so you're perfect in that sense. It's obviously a little awkward when Steve has to warn you about their careers, though, so you have time to back out before you sign the papers--he tries to make it as clear as possible that they're not working a prostitution ring or anything, and that they in no way expect you to participate, and that they have a schedule for filming and will run changes by you well in advance so you can avoid certain rooms or be out of the house to do something else. But you seem fine with it, and you aren't even really familiar with their accounts which is kind of a relief, so it really turns out well when you move in and start living amongst your very attractive roommates.

It's nice for a while. They're all kind to you, and you get to know each other pretty quick, but there's tension in the air. Nancy can tell you're inexperienced by the way you seem so flustered around the boys when they wander by in their underwear, and how you react to the simplest gestures of kindness or flirtation like it's the most flattered you've ever been. When Robin compliments your style and tells you how gorgeous you look before you leave the house, you look so shocked and utter a "really?" that's so sweet she makes it a point to compliment you way more often. But Eddie's the one that extracts the truth out of you, that you're a virgin, after a few drinks you two share following a late night out at the movies. He doesn't kiss you that night, but that's when he realizes he wants to.

A little while after that, after Eddie swears to shut his mouth but you feel comfortable enough to mention it in passing to the others, you decide to sate your curiosity and do a little research on your roommates and they're happy to give you a tour. They ease you in slow with Robin's account on phub, show you some of her teaser videos on twitter and her camsite, and they make it fun--they do it in the style of a movie night, getting snacks and cracking jokes as they screenshare Steve's phone to the tv as you pore over each of their portfolios. Gradually, you make your way down the list to their collaborations and the harder stuff, the mean and degrading clips that have your tummy buzzing as you sit between them on the sofa. They finally get to their group account, filled with all the stuff they've filmed in the house--some of it you've heard through the wall and touched yourself to--and you get to see them teasing each other in real life while they moan and sweat onscreen.

You get to watch Robin ride Nancy's face while she tugs on her hair, hips jumping and belly concaved as she gasps and whimpers out the sweetest dirty talk you've ever heard. They scroll over a link to phub titled "King Steve punishes Eddie the Banished with rough barebacking" with a thumbnail showing off Eddie's fucked-out face as Steve has his foot on the back of his head, eyeliner smudged and tearstreaked while his partner's cock is almost completely buried in his ass. Nancy insists on showing you a video they've filmed of her pegging Steve on his bare mattress, clearly taken just as they were moving in--that certainly hadn't stopped her from plowing him into it though, his arms wrapped tight around her as he clings to her chest and moans out pleas for her not to stop. And all the while she's teasing him, suggesting that maybe she should have the title of "anal king" after this.

You're so wet an hour into this showing that it's ridiculous. You're squirming so bad in your seat that you're practically begging one of them to touch you, no matter how quiet you are as Steve asks if you're cool and you nod a yes.

"Sorry, honey. Too much?" Eddie queries, stretching his arm out a little further from where it's draped over the couch, just barely touching your shoulders but not enough. He smiles to reassure you, about to suggest that maybe you all can switch from the porn to watching a movie instead--but then you blurt it all out, and the feelings that have been building up for months are suddenly all hanging out in the open.

"Would you take my virginity?"

They're struck silent, looking back at you with wide eyes that render you mute in seconds--you know that was such a mistake, it was too far, and you pray to god that Steve doesn't just throw you out. But you also fear the awkwardness of living out the rest of your lease with your roommate-turned-friends thinking you're a weirdo, and in some way it might be better if you just got kicked out.

Then they start exchanging looks. They start grinning. And when they finally deign to acknowledge you, the precious little virgin squished up between Eddie and Nancy on the couch they've fucked on a hundred times, you feel like you're the bunny facing the jaws of wolves upon wandering into their den. Steve reaches over Nancy's lap to rub your knee through your jeans, and his eyes flutter to a half-lidded expression of desire, before he speaks up in place of all his other romantic partners.

"We can do whatever you want, baby. Just no cameras this time--I want you all to us for this."

[malewifemanhunter]

Challenge is NOW OPEN!!! 9th August to 9th September 2022

Heyyy everyone! The Always Sunny Drabble Blast Contest is now open for submissions :D

Anyone can enter, whether you’re a confident writer or you’ve never written anything before, if you’re new to sunnyblr or you’ve been here since Charlie Kelly crawled out of the floorboards. You can also submit anonymously! (just talk to one of the organizers for that~)

“BUT WHAT IS A DRABBLE” you ask?

A drabble is a VERY short fic of just 100 words (not including title, tags or authors notes). And it can be about anything you like! As long as it’s Sunny related and hits that target (give or take) then you’ve nailed it. You can even write a series of drabbles and arrange them as chapters if you want to explore your idea more, as long as they work on their own too. If you need some examples, you can find them in the collection.

“HOW WILL YOU CROWN YOUR CHAMPIONS?”

Good question! We’ll be opening a poll on September 1st for people to vote on their favourite stories, with a contest winner and runners-up, and we’re ALSO going to hand pick the winners of some very special categories. (And yes, that’s because otherwise, our beloved macdennies will swamp the votes :p)

BEST IN SHIP: The big six, babeyyy. Macdennis, Deetress, Charden, Charmac, Chardee, Charmacden. You know the drill.

BEST RAREPAIRS: Any relationship not in the above list :)

BEST TEAM-UPS and FRIENDSHIPS: Non-ship based fics

GENRE: Best fluff, humor, angst, AU, horror, smut

HAND PICKED PERFECTION: Best Scheme, Most Sunny-ish Vibes, Best Twist, Drabble We're Most Desperate For More Of, Best Drunk/High Fic, Most In Character, Best Title, BEST SINGLE LINE, Dialogue Only, Fewest Filler Words, Best Fic In A Language Other Than English, Best Freeform/Visual Design, Best Meta, Best Crack Meta…

And finally...

WASTE NOT WANT NOT: The real deal. The most prestigious title. That’s right, we’re talking about Most Obedient. This is the award for whoever writes the most submissions with exactly one. hundred. words. No more, no less. 

SOME BASICS:

Content: write whatever you like! Try to tag things appropriately, but we can help you figure that out if you want (dm or send an ask to us @malewifemanhunter @headgehug @officialbillhader or @lets-dont-this)

Where to post: Feel free to post your work on tumblr/anywhere else you like - it’s your work! just make sure you also submit it to the collection on Archive Of Our Own 3 so we can keep track of them all. And don't forget to tag sunny d blast!

Submitting anonymously: There are two ways you can do this. 1. Upload your fic to your Ao3 account, make it anonymous, then submit it to the collection, or 2. Send it to one of us (@malewifemanhunter @headgehug @lets-dont-this @officialbillhader) on anon and we will post it for you (although it may mess up your formatting a little to do it this way). 

But what if I dont know what to write?!: Do not worry - as well as having beta readers available we’ve also got this list of prompts! No need to stick with these (seriously, write what you wanna), but If you wanna write and the creative juices just aren’t flowing, you can take your pick from this list and just go to town

PROMPTS TO HELP YOU GET STARTED:

moments when Dennis kissed Mac on the forehead, Mac and charlie have a bike race, Dennis and Charlie sing together while high, Charlie takes care of a sick Dee, the gang tries to catch a turkey for Thanksgiving, Mac and Dee want the same man, Charlie and Mac almost set fire to Mac and Dennis’s apartment while cooking, the twins (children) hate each other but they still spend their birthday together because being together with someone you hate is better than being alone, Frank swindles a street vendor and gets food for everyone in the gang, water fight turned erotic. You can take these as they are, or play around with them a bit, whatever floats your boat~

ADVICE:

Don't forget you have a title! With only 100 words it can really help to set the scene or the tone of your fic. And make sure you tag the fic. If you don't know how, or have any other questions, just ask one of the organizers!

GOOD LUCK!

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

Can you do striker w a s/o who loves when he gets overprotective, jealous, or possessive cause It makes them feel wanted? Nsfw and sfw?

Striker with S/O who likes him being possessive

Striker wasn't the most expressive of Imps.

The Imp wasnt the best at expressing his love in words, choosing instead to show it in a few subtle expressions of affection, at least outside the bedroom...

But your favourite way he did this, was when he got possessive of you.

Now some might say, 'Wow! That sounds kinda unhealthy to enjoy when someone acts like they own you.' To that you'd say, 'fuck off!' Followed by an explanation of how when Striker was possessive you felt loved and wanted, something you'd sorely lacked throughout your life.

Youd never think someone as confident and capable as Striker would be so paranoid about losing you, but you found your cowboy Imp to be very jealous.

His possessiveness would really show through when around other Imps.

Sure, sinners were to be watched carefully by the cowboy, but he knew you liked imps, so they were enemy number one in his eyes.

So sometimes, when around other Imps, a particularly ballsy Imp would step up and try and flirt with you.

As soon as he noticed, Striker would snap to attention. He'd physically put himself between you and the Imp, shutting down any conversationyou'd have before angrily telling them to get lost.

If they didn't fuck off, he'd often get physical, kicking the shit out of whoever it was, often times killing them to make an example.

Afterwards he'd stare down anyone looking your way before either going back to your drinks, or by grabbing you and giving you a big domineering kiss, totally dominating you before dragging you out off where ever you may have been.

After an incident like that, he'd often be much more possessive of you. Keeping you by him at all times.

You loved this. You loved feeling like you were his, like he'd fight to the death for you. Like you were wanted.

When you were feeling ignored or in a particularly frisky mood, when someone was flirting with you, you'd flirt back. Sure to never make it seem to obvious, but noticeable you weren't saying no.

This always got Strikers blood boiling, he'd come over and utterly slaughter the Imp in question.

Grabbing you he'd drag you out of the place, grumbling to himself the entire way home, body tense.

When you get home, hed pin you to a wall, growling out if you were trying to get a rise from him, then you got it.

You loved this.

He always became so adimant on how you belonged to him, telling you he'd need to remind you.

Sex was... animalistic. Striker becoming primal, absolutely dominating you.

Will often growl in your ear that you belong to him. As well as biting and scratching, leaving as many marks as possible, especially when they were visible.

He loved advertising you belonged to him.

Will absolutely ravish you. Dominating you long into the night, making you beg or moan for him.

Demanding you tell him who you belong to.

Youd naturally submit, absolutely loving being taken by the serpentine Imp, happily telling him you belong to him.

There would be a moment after each of there "sessions" where you'd both be laying there, sweaty and covered in fluids, when the Imp would pull you in close, nuzzling into your neck before he'd grumble out "Mine~"

And then you'd drift off to sleep, feeling happy and wanted.

Hey Hey. Shorter than usual, but I like these shorter stories.

I'm working on a side project but I'll still be working on headcanons. But I'll be sure to tell you about it soon.

[chaotic-vibes-only-please]

Broski, do you think we can get some Yandere Toby NSFW + SFW headcannons? Like, do you think Toby would be more calculating and cold and Manipulative as a yandere? Or? Also, you're Amazing!!

Yandere Toby Head Canons

A/N: Of course, here's your cup of tea!🍵 He'd gaslight you so much. I feel like people think of Toby as the opposite, but he'd be actually one of the more brutal and manipulative yanderes because he's a wolf in sheep's clothing 🤔 No, you're amazing! 💕

Warnings: NSFW below the cut

SFW

Yandere Toby is way more unstable than normal Toby. He specifically has type one Bi-polar disorder. Toby's mania lasts longer, making him more aggressive, impulsive, irritable, and hyper. Because of this his descion making isn't the best. You'd be walking on eggshells around him because he can't fully control those emotions and moods without proper treatment.

Toby is very manipulative. He'll act like the victim by bringing up his tragic past to make you feel sympathy, to make him look more humane. If he hits or hurts you in any way(Emotional or physical), his excuse is "I'm sorry, this is how I was raised. I don't want to end up like my father...I'm so sorry Y/N I didn't mean it..." He'll cry crocodile tears so you'll forgive him easily. Even though there's an explanation for his actions, it doesn't make what he does okay.

If he gets jealous, Toby kills whoever is stealing your affection from him. Nothing more, nothing less. Just a chop to the neck. He isn't the type to torture, Toby only wants them out of his way unlike some other yandere's

He always has an arm wrapped around your waist. Toby likes how it keeps you glued to his side. He's clingy, you won't be getting any free time unless you need to use the bathroom. Toby takes showers with you, not even in a sexual sense most of the time, but a comfort one. This way he always knows you're safe.

Toby is someone who emotionally gaslights. He's a great actor. Don't let him fool you. Never trust what he says.

He's both an obsessive and possessive kind of yandere, which is a terrible combination. You're basically screwed. Toby thinks of you day and night and he hates when anyone else touches you.

Keeps you specifically in a basement chained up whenever he's on missions.

The worst thing you can do to him is try to leave or escape. Toby feels hurt whenever you show you don't want to be with him and might just chop a limb off out of spite. He has no patience, Toby is too emotionally unstable to risk things regarding running away.

Toby doesn't know what pain feels like, he won't understand if he's hurting you too much. Hang your head low and do what he says, and for your own sake, pretend to love him.

NSFW

Hate to do this to my switches and tops out there, but Yandere Toby is a no go for sub. He's a soft Dom who can turn rough if provoked.

Mixes degradation and praise. One second he'll be claiming how proud he is of you taking his cock so perfectly, and then another Toby starts to rant about how you're nothing but his filthy cocksleeve whose only purpose is to be used.

He's big on hair pulling, loves to tangle his fingers in it and tug on your strands if they're long enough. If not, his hand will wrap itself around your neck. Toby doesn't choke you, he lightly squeezes it to feel your pulse, reminding you that if he presses a little harder, you'll break.

When you get on his gentler side, Toby will pin your arms above your head and kiss you hard while dicking you down against wherever he bent you over

His favorite places to have sex are the most risky ones. Toby is a bit of a exhibitionist, the possibility of getting caught is an exilerating.

Toby loves when you submit to him because it shows a sign of trust and a bond. He'll put you in the most degrading and humiliating of positions to get you desperate and willing for his touch. His favorite thing to do is make you ride his thigh until you're a whining mess.

Remember how I mentioned he showers with you? Yeah expect some level of bath or shower sex.

[luckyqueenreign]

Omg im the one that submitted the Gabrielle theory!! Please do use it!! I just finished you first impression and loved it!!

Two fics in one day... who am I?

I loved your Gabrielle theory and wanted to explore a possible storyline through that.

I even tried to make Gabrielle a little bit redeeming lol..She was just trying to look out for MC! Hope I did you proud :)

@fujiihime @tjsmommy719 @squishy-noodles @kunepie

---- 

THREE’S A CROWD - SURESH / GABRIELLE POV 

Suresh looked down at his watch, Gemma’s going to kill me. It had been the third time this week, he’d promise her that he wouldn’t work late but he was now two hours late to their dinner plans. His office was currently going through a massive re-structuring, and they were short staffed, his boss was asking for an “all hands-on deck approach” from all the senior and mid-level staff. He couldn’t say no when he was on the fast track to partner. He thought he had come up with a great solution to their temporary problem weeks ago, he asked Gemma to move in with him. His apartment was nicer than hers, it was bigger, it was on a better part of town. She basically lived there as it was, it just made sense. 

But Gemma said no, multiple times. She said she had a “rule” about not living with someone before she was engaged to them. They’d been together for over a year now and he could see himself proposing to her. He was going to propose to her. She was his dream girl after all. He just needed to get over this hump at work and then he would propose. They could have the big wedding she’d always dreamed of. His family wasn’t super traditional, but he imagined they’d want to keep some of his Sri Lankan traditions for the wedding. 

He turned his key into Gemma’s knob and turned it to open the door. The apartment was pitch black. 

“G?” 

Down the hall he could hear faint whispers from what seemed to be a conversation and he could see the glow coming from underneath Gemma’s bedroom door. 

Why is her door closed. She never closes her door. 

“Gemma?” 

With that she stopped talking and she rushed whoever was on the other line off the phone. She rushed out of her room, flustered. 

“Hey babe!” 

She ran over to give him a kiss. 

No argument? No snide remark about being late? 

“I’m sorry I’m late, work ran over again.” 

“It’s ok, should we go out, order in? I guess I could also whip up something quickly too. Not sure what you’re in the mood for –“ 

“Gemma who was the on the phone?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Just now when I got home you were on the phone. Who were you on the phone with?” 

“Hmm... I could do with a Chinese...” 

“Gemma!” 

“Oh sorry! I was uh just oh on with Chloe.” 

“Since when do you stutter just to say you were on with Chloe?” 

“I didn’t stutter…oh my god Suresh what’s with the grilling? If you’re stressed from work keep it there, please. Don’t bring it home to me. I’ve not done anything to you. I was just trying to sort your dinner and you’ve come home with all this weird aggressive energy.”

“Well, this isn’t my home now is it, Gemma!” 

“Nope, not this again. We are not having this argument right now. Literally what’s wrong with you?” 

“What’s wrong with me?! You’re over here having secret conversations; you refuse to move in with me and you’re acting like there’s something wrong with me?” 

“We’re not doing this right now. Just go to your apartment Suresh. We’ll speak in the morning.” 

With this he turns around and storms off leaving Gemma’s apartment. 

--- 

Suresh drives aimlessly towards his apartment, but he realizes he doesn’t want to go home. He starts driving towards The Social. It’s his favorite bar, it’s close to his office and his apartment. He decides to leave his car near his apartment. The amount of drinking he’ll be doing tonight he shouldn’t get behind the wheel of a car. 

Suresh receives his usual raised eyebrow and come-hither stares from women that he’s become accustomed to it over the years. After over a year of successfully ignoring those types of looks from women he feels like he’s built a special Gemma armor around him. Mostly impenetrable to women. 

“Reshyyy!!!” Gabrielle squealed from the other side of the bar, she couldn’t contain her excitement and ran over to hug him. “I haven’t seen you in like a week where have you been?”

“Work has been an absolute mad house. I need lots and lots of tequila tonight.” 

“Your wish is my command!” 

Gabrielle smiled mischievously as she dropped two tequila shots in front of Suresh. She pressed her breasts together and leaned forward to him. 

“Let’s see if this big boy can handle these tiny tequila shots.” 

Suresh took down the two shots with ease. 

“Just leave the bottle.” Suresh continued to drink shot after shot for the next hour or so.

“Babes, we’re actually closing down in 15 minutes.” 

Suresh was drunk. Very drunk. He was slurring his words. He got up and the room started to spin but he got his bearings. 

“Nooo. But weee we’reere just starrrrting to have fuun.” 

Gabrielle walked over to him and held his shoulder. 

“Suresh are you ok,” Gabrielle said as she looked at him with a flirtatious smile. 

“Of course, I am G,” with that Suresh grabbed Gabrielle into a sloppy drunken kiss. For Gabrielle this was months in the making. She’d dreamed of what kissing Suresh would feel like, and what being with him would be like. She didn’t know much about him but she hoped this kiss was the start of something more. 

“Do you want to go back to my place, or should we go to yours?” Gabrielle asked expectantly. 

Suresh looked at her confused. “I don know where I live.” He started to laugh.

Gabrielle laughed with him. “Alright we can head to my place then, I can drive.”

Suresh snored in the passenger seat as Gabrielle drove them to her apartment. OMG I can’t believe this is happening. He’s so gorgeous. 

When they arrive at her place Suresh is still very inebriated. He's swaying as he walks down her hallway. She leads him to her bedroom, and they start to kiss. Their kiss starts slow and sensual, and she starts to kiss his neck as she starts to move down to his chest he says. “Gemma, I love you so much just move in with me.” 

Gabrielle stops kissing him. 

“Suresh, what did you say”

“Gemma, I love you.” 

With that he turns over and begins to snore. 

How could she be so stupid. Of course, he has a girlfriend. Gemma. 

He’s made a fool of me for MONTHS. Flirting with me. Gassing me up. Making it seem like he wanted anything with me. He clearly just did that for attention. I’ll give him attention. How could he cheat on his girlfriend? And I know he's not the type of guy to ever own up to his mistakes. Maybe I should help her find something in his phone that will make her see what a shitty, two-timing boyfriend she has.

Gabrielle looked around for Suresh’s phone, once she spotted it, she got to work. She removed his shirt and his pants. She left his underwear on but inched it down. She put on her red lacy lingerie set and took out his phone and posed. When she finally had the picture, she liked she saved it to his camera roll. 

---

Suresh woke up in a panic. This wasn’t his apartment. This wasn’t Gemma’s apartment. He wasn’t wearing clothes. Who was next to him?? He tried to move but his head felt like he had been buried under a ton of bricks. He had to get the hell out of here. He didn’t remember having sex. He didn’t remember much of anything. Gemma’s apartment. Car. THE SOCIAL. He finally inched his head over and he could see her red hair, her tattoos. What did you do Suresh? 

Suresh tried to silently get up and get his things. Everything was everywhere and his pounding headache made it so much harder to pick everything up. When he finally finished getting dressed, he heard Gabrielle stir.

“Good morning, babe,” she said. 

“Hey Gab. Listen nothing happened between last night, right? 

She started to giggle, “Well I wouldn’t call that nothing,” she said as she pointed to Suresh’s member. “I had a lot of fun last night. Maybe we can do it again soon” 

“G, you’re a great girl but I can’t. I’m sorry. I have to go.” 

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

You have to tell Gemma. There’s no way out of this you have to tell Gemma. But what do I tell Gemma? What the hell even happened?

Suresh takes an Uber home to wash the smell of tequila and regret off him. He gets dressed and starts to make his way over to Gemma’s apartment. But it’s empty. He calls her. 

“Hello Suresh.” She answers icily on the other line. 

“Babe where are you?” 

“I’m out.” 

“I’m at your apartment, I wanted to see you. Will you be home soon?” 

“No.” 

“G come on. Where are you?” 

With that he heard the key in the lock, and he turned around to find her standing at the doorway. She had a few bags from the market in her hands. 

“Well, are you going to help me then or just stare,” she said as she smirked at him and handed him some bags.

“Should we go out today, I ran all of the errands I needed to run yesterday and this morning,” she said as she put away the groceries. Completely unaware of the absolutely horrific thing Suresh did last night. 

“Resh?” 

“Huh? Oh yeah, let’s go out.” 

She looked at him sideways, “Are you ok?” As she got closer to him, she knew something was up. “You got drunk last night, didn’t you? Oh, and I can see it’s a bad hangover too.” She said laughing. “OK, new plan. We’re ordering really greasy burgers. I’m going to the shops for beers, you need a hair of the dog. Grab some painkillers from my medicine cabinet and a water and relax on the couch. I’ll be back in 10.” 

“Gemma.”

“Hmm?” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever loved you more.” 

She smiled back at him wide. 

Suresh needed time to gather his thoughts. He couldn’t hurt her right now. He knew that if he told her about last night that it would shatter her world. It would be one thing if Gabrielle meant something to Suresh, but Gabrielle meant absolutely nothing to him. He couldn’t even remember sleeping with her or kissing her. Shit, I remember kissing her. I called her G. I thought she was Gemma. Gemma will leave you. You can’t tell Gemma. 

Before he could think about it anymore, Gemma walked back into the apartment. 

“Ok drunky…I come bearing more goods to get you drunk again.” 

That afternoon came and went they watched movies and cuddled on the couch. Suresh decided he would keep Gemma in the dark about his darkest secret. 

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