#expect to see an essay in a few days x

[racetrackmybeloved]

i need to chill tf out about this damn musical, i had an idea for a post that could be achieved in like. two screenshots and four sentences. three hours later i have a 1707 word draft, including not one, not two, but TWENTY FIVE SCREENSHOTS (not all of them being of the musical lmao). i dont even know how that happened

is that something youd even wanna see HAHA or should i break it up into chunks so that people actually read it? idk about breaking it up tho bc theyre all kinda related to the central point?? and id have to reorganise everything and idk if i have the energy for that

[hysteria-things]

can you do a teacher!chris and a college student pleasee. (With smut. And if you want to!!)

PROFESSOR STURNIOLO

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!teacher!chris x student!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: this isn’t your first problem with this specific professor, but at this moment you’re fed up and want to put your foot down.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY SMUT, p in v, degradation, spanking, masturbation (female), making out, stomach bulge, overstimulation, dumbification, squirting, cream pie

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,535

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: we are locked in🫡

your professor dismissed class mere seconds ago, and everybody either has already left the lecture hall or is still packing up. “are you meeting us for lunch?” your friend says, zippering her bag and putting it on her shoulder.

you scoff, shaking your head. “can’t.” you say, ripping out the essay you wrote for this class that was due a few days ago. “professor sturniolo gave me an F on the essay.”

“again?” she questions genuinely shocked. “he’s got a bone to pick with you.”

this isn’t the first encounter like this you had with your professor. this class — your argument and persuasion class — is the only one you’re failing this semester.

not in your three years have you ever had this type of problem, and after many F’s, you’ve finally had enough.

“well, good luck.” your friend sighs, leaving the classroom with the remaining group.

now, that leaves you and him.

it would be a different story if you didn’t do the assignment right or didn’t try on the essay, but you’re one hell of a writer and you’re sure he knows it. you’ve always been good in school, ever since a young age.

normally you wouldn’t pick up fights with teachers, but your blood has been boiling for this dude for weeks.

“what’s your problem with me?” you say sternly, wiggling the paper in your hand as you step down to where he is.

he stops erasing the board and turns to you. “class is over, ms. l/n.”

yeah, no shit.

you roll your eyes. “so? i want to speak with you about my recent essay. you always give me F’s and never explain why. i would understand if it happened once before at the beginning of the year, but for every. single. one? it’s ridiculous.

he’s emotionless as he listens to your rambling, then he shrugs. “it wasn’t good enough.”

you crinkle the paper in your fist and slam it down on the desk in front of you. “wasn’t good enough my fucking ass, professor sturniolo. is it a favoritism thing? or are you fucking the other chicks in your class so they can have good grades? is that what i need to do? do i need to fuck you?”

the moment those words left your mouth, you knew that was a huge mistake.

you wouldn’t be surprised if he does, though. he’s not much older than you, and he is attractive.

he licks his lips, tilting his head toward himself. “bring it over.”

you gulp, feeling slightly intimidated. you uncrinkle the page and hand it to him, who is now sitting in the chair.

not even reading it, he stares at it and looks back up at you. “sorry. your paper didn’t meet the expectations.”

your pinch your lips together to keep you from screaming at him. “you didn’t even read it.” you shake your head. “i should’ve dropped this class when i had the chance. you’re cocky, and a waste of my time. i’m failing probably because your teaching sucks.”

as you start to storm out, he speaks up. “i’m going to have to clean that filthy mouth of yours.” he smirks. “teach you a much-deserved lesson, then afterward you can see if my teaching still sucks.”

you pause in your tracks, face turning beat red as you slowly turn back around. “w-what?”

he motions you to come over with his finger, and for some reason, you listen.

grabbing your wrist, he pulls you over his lap so you’re straddling him. again, you let it happen. you can’t help the wetness that starts to pool between your legs.

“you can admit it, you know,” he whispers, dragging his hand from your waistband to your mouth. he grazes his thumb over your bottom lip.

“a-admit what?” you stammer, shuffling in his lap which causes him to groan and hold your hips.

he chuckles. “deep down you want me to fuck you. i bet you touch yourself to the thought of me like a desperate little thing.”

you look away, face turning even redder than before if possible. “nuh-uh.”

“your face says otherwise.” his whisper shoots a chill up your spine as he starts to unbutton your shorts.

the way your fingers move quickly inside of you have your eyes shut with your mouth dangled open.

you were lucky enough to get a single dorm, so you can do whatever you want without being sneaky about it.

the way your legs are spread makes your fingers dig deeper, curling to hit the right spot. you grip onto your sheets tight, moans and other loud noises leaving your lips.

your previous orgasms make a mess below you or the back of your thighs, but you don’t stop. you’ve been at this for almost an hour because your mind is only focused on one thing.

your lecturer.

professor sturniolo.

“shit.” you pant, your orgasm building for the nth time. you let go of the sheets to massage your breast, pinching at your nipple from time to time.

you whine. “just like that.”

legs shaking, your fingers get coated with yet another orgasm, but you wish it wasn’t your fingers.

you wish it were his.

your shorts are now on the floor, along with your shirt, underwear, and bra. chris still has his clothes on except for his pants.

hovering just above his tip, your lips move in sync with each other. his tongue fights yours, and the erotic sounds of you two kissing fill your ears.

his hands rub along your back before spanking you hard, ruining the intimate moment. you pull away to gasp.

“sit,” he demands, mouth agape as he looks down to watch you try to sink onto his dick.

you grunt from the pleasurable pain, stopping just about midway. he’s probably the biggest you’ve ever seen. “it’s not gonna fit.” you whine.

“i’ll make it fit.”

with that, he grips onto your ass, hammering up into you without being able to adjust first.

you grab onto his shoulders for dear life. you moan uncontrollably, the feeling of him raw inside of you making you grin like a fool.

you’ve been wanting him to do this for a very long time.

“look at you.” he starts, smacking your ass to have you jolt. “having the professor you allegedly hate balls deep in you.”

“i-i do— ha-ate you.” you struggle to get out, a hand landing on your asscheek again.

“is that so?” he mocks, waiting for you to talk back but instead you moan even louder. he nods. “that’s what i thought.”

he bites his lip, looking at the way your tits bounce rapidly and at the bulge in your belly, eyes widening slightly. he’d never seen something like that before.

“i should keep you around more often after class.” he groans, seeing your face of pleasure.

eyes rolled back, mouth hung open, hair disheveled and sticking to your forehead from sweating.

“you make a pretty little cocksleeve.”

that sentence makes you clench around him, your body starting to quiver from the overwhelming feeling. “ngh— feels so go-od. y-you make me feel s-so good.” you whimper. “wanna cum!”

“not until you apologize.” he tuts, grabbing and then spanking your ass. “say you’re sorry, and i might let you cum.”

you whine, his cock now kissing your g-spot more than it did before. “i’m s-sorry.”

“for?”

“for— mm!” you squeal. “for being b-bad.”

“and?”

“and-and—” you can’t finish because of the sudden clear liquid squirting out of you, now making your pussy squelch more than it was before. your back arches even harder, your brain all dazed and dumb from the overstimulation.

you start to lose stability from being too weak, so chris has to hold you by your arms.

he groans, shaking his head at the terrible mess you are making. “come on. you can do it.”

tears spill from your eyes, sobs running past your lips. “a-and for t-talking back. fuck!”

his dick twitches inside, his thrusts getting sloppy. “i hope you’re on the pill because i’m going to fill you deep, baby.”

you can only make sounds, so a high-pitched moan echoes throughout. you’re seeing stars the closer your orgasm approaches before it finally snaps and you’re smearing the ring of white around his dick.

he doesn’t stop, causing your body to twitch in his grasp as another orgasm builds since he’s still fucking deep to your g-spot.

“close again?” he laughs fake. “scream for me. let people know how much of a slut you are; letting your teacher use you to get a better grade.”

your body slowly starts becoming limp, eyes fluttering closed as you moan.

he spanks you for the last time, not caring that his job is on the line.

“louder. they can’t hear you.”

screaming this time, you cum once again when he holds you down on his shaft. you collapse onto his chest, quiet sobs leaving your lips as you feel his cum start to fill you.

he peppers kisses on your shoulders, peeking over them to grab a pen and clicking it open. he scribbles over the previous grade on your essay to write a new one.

A+

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @mattybswife @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @sturniol0s @catalina-island @mbsbaby @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopeno1

[dollfacefantasy]

Some Extra Lessons

pairing: professor!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: professor kennedy’s got it bad for one of his students. little does he know, you feel the same way for him.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, thigh riding, fingering, edging, age gap (36/college aged), teacher/student, daddy kink, sir kink, praise/degradation

word count: 7k

a/n: hey everybody. hope everyone had nice holidays if you celebrate them. and happy new year! i'm not sure how i feel about this one but eh. i got things cooking so stay tuned 🫵. as always, thank you for your comments and reblogs. smooches <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus

Mondays and Wednesdays. Those are fast becoming Leon’s two favorite days of the week. For most people, they’re probably the worst days. The first day back to work, and the other right in the middle of the week; when they’ve already had enough but it feels like the weekend is still years away. But not for Leon. Not anymore. Those days are now sacred to him because they are the days he gets to see you.

You’re his favorite student this semester by far, no one else even comes close. He noticed you early on in the beginning weeks, quiet but attentive. You would sit off to the side by yourself, always taking notes or scanning what was on the board.

It made him feel like such a perv when he first noticed his own lingering gazes and heart palpitations when you walked in the room. He tried to justify it. It wasn’t everyday he had someone like you sitting a few rows away from him, hanging on every word he said.

He’s only human, he tried reasoning. He couldn’t help but always notice the cute little outfits you wore to class, teasing just enough of your body to keep him ogling you for more. You did your hair in pretty styles and coated your pouty lips in shimmery gloss. He had to force his eyes to move around the room to other students when he spoke. His natural instinct was to keep them locked on you while his head filled with images of his hands squeezing those cute tits or his cock sliding between your shiny lips.

Despite those fantasies, he left you alone. It was wrong, inappropriate, he told himself. He shouldn’t be lusting after his student, let alone pursuing her. You were just a sweet girl trying to get an education. He couldn’t let his perversions interfere with that.

But as the weeks passed and more classes went by, he got to know you. You seemed pretty shy but not insecure. In class, you’d do your work alone, but if there was ever a lull in his lecture, you’d raise your hand to offer an answer, help him out a little. That was how he had bridged the gap between you two even though he hadn’t meant it as anything more than what it was.

He had just dismissed everyone, making a corny joke about the poor grades he’d given so far on an essay that had been due. A small smile graced your lips. Sure, the joke wasn’t that funny, but you had a fat crush on Mr. Kennedy so everything he said was a little funny.

You were scrawling down a few remaining notes before you would leave for the day when you heard his voice call your name. Immediately, your head tilted up to look at him. He beckoned you over with a wave of his hand. You were still wondering what this could be about as your hands slid your notebook into your backpack and your feet carried you towards him.

“Yes, Mr. Kennedy?” you say softly when you approach his desk. You rest your palms on the edge of the table as you await the reason behind this encounter.

“Hey, I just wanted to thank you for your participation. You know, I appreciate that, and I know it’s not fair to you to have that expected of you when you didn’t sign up for it,” he begins.

“Oh, it’s no problem, sir. I really don’t mind,” you say, smiling at him.

“Sir? So polite,” he jokes with a smile of his own. The remark had come out before he could stop himself with a mental scolding about being normal with you.

Your cheeks burn, and you glance down at your shoes timidly. Your heartbeat was already faster than normal just from having his eyes focused on you alone. With him teasing you, it felt like your chest was going to explode.

This was the closest you’d ever been to him, the most you’d ever spoken to one another. Up close it was even more apparent how handsome he was. He didn’t look like any other professors you had. His blonde hair fell into his face and partially obscured one of his eyes. His shirt was undone a button lower than was probably professional.

“And I wanted to tell you that I got your email about your late assignment,” he says. He could see your embarrassment. He would have felt more guilt about causing it if you didn’t look so precious like that. He pushes those thoughts away though as you look up again, anxiety in your eyes. 

“Oh yeah, I’m really sorry about that. I promise you that it’s a one time thing. I don’t normally have that problem, and I just wanted you to know that. Didn’t want you to get the wrong impression,” you say.

He cuts off your apology with a chuckle and places his hand over yours, covering your manicured nails with the rough skin of his palm. 

“It’s alright, honey,” he says, “I can tell you’re a good girl. I don’t mind giving you a break.”

Good girl. You shift in place upon hearing those two words. It’s like a small match ignites in your belly, inching closer to the larger fuse.

So naive. So well-intentioned. That’s what he saw looking at you in that moment. He could almost see into you, see your mind trying to figure out a response, to discern if he was purposely flirting or clueless like you.

Your eyes cast down, and a shy smile breaks out on your face. After wrapping up the conversation and finishing with a soft murmur of “Thank you Mr. Kennedy,” you practically skip out of the room. A swirl of almost every good emotion you’ve ever felt blooms in your chest because of his attention.

He smirks, watching that sweet ass sway back and forth as you bound up the steps to the door. How you seem to walk with your shoulders back and chest out after the small praise he gave you. God, he was practically drooling. He imagined himself looking like a cartoon character, silhouettes of hearts in his eyes and his tongue rolled out of his mouth.

But no, this was wrong. Point blank, it’s that simple. Or at least it should be.

After that day, he relented a little. He decided that some slight teasing was harmless. But he swore it would be just that, nothing further. That small voice in his head tried to defend it. It wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy the attention. You’d blush and fidget in your seat when he shot you an amorous look. Or you’d smile and flit your eyes away as he’d tuck some hair behind your ear when he’d come over to your desk after class to ask if you understood everything.

And as he weakened, your infatuation intensified. These classes became the highlights of your week. You’d fantasize about the pet name he’d call you on Monday or how his eyes would roam over your body on Wednesday. Walking to class, ringing through your head was simply Mr. Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy. While you traveled home, he danced through your mind to your thoughts about him that sounded like a love song.

Even with the huge torch you carried for him, you could never work up the nerve to make the big move. Every time you’d imagine sitting in his lap, your lips moving with his, all you could think about was what if it was all in your head? All those little looks and sweet words just blown out of proportion in your mind. Could you handle baring your soul to him if he reacted with anything other than reciprocation?

These questions bothered you as the semester went on, but nothing really changed. Leon was the same way, of course, all while you were unaware. He could only imagine how freaked out you would be if he made any attempt on you.

Lately, the two of you had been spending more time together. You were staying after class more to get “additional help.” Lingering around his desk, you’d timidly started approaching him, and he was happy to give you the aide.

Today, he dismisses everyone else before waving you over with a smug smile. You grab your things and scamper down to his desk with your own happy expression. You slide into the chair he pulled next to his seat. You open your laptop and start showing him the things you didn’t understand. In reality, you understood just fine, but for the sake of being around him, you’d bite your lip and look up at him through your lashes as if you’d missed entire classes worth of information.

“I just have trouble with memorization. I get confused between the words and their definitions,” you explain.

“Oh alright,” he responds softly, eyes scanning over the screen and then finding your face, “There’s a couple of things I think could help. Acronyms, stuff like that.”

He starts explaining the strategy to you, but like always, you have to fight a mental war to stay focused. You nod along, trying your best to act attentive. It was so hard though because… he’s him. 

You scoot your chair a little closer to his to get a better view of the laptop and notice his breath hitch. Your body freezes, but instead of feeling that familiar fear of rejection come over you, confidence begins simmering inside your chest. The change in his breathing meant something, he was reacting to this too. Maybe you could do this after all.

For now, you try to act natural, moving along the conversation with another question.

“Is there anything else though? Because I struggle to attach the definitions too, not just remember the words,” you say, leaning in a little more.

He turns his head to look at you completely, eyes locked on yours. You felt like you were losing your footing a little staring into them. “Mhm. I can show you how to link the two. Break down the word to get the meanings of the parts and…” he continues on as you zone out.

His voice was huskier now, and that simmer of confidence continues to build within you. You keep nodding with every pause in his speech, your doe eyes looking up at him.

“That makes sense,” you say when he finishes, still unable to look away. Your heart pounds as you make a decision. You place your hand on his thigh. You try to act natural, as if it’s just a casual gesture of affirmation. But you can see in his eyes that he knows better.

“Yeah? Do you need help with anything else then?” he asks slowly, watching your face for reactions.

“I think so,” you say as your voice grows a little breathier.

“What is it?” he asks. He leans in a little more and you can feel his hot breath fanning over you.

“I have some more questions…” you say.

“About?” he says, eyes dropping to your lips for a moment.

Head tilting down, your foot moves over to lightly brush up against his leg. You bite your lip, looking the most timid he’d ever seen you, which was saying a lot. But you force yourself to keep going while you have this burst of hope.

“Some special tutoring…” you offer.

“Special tutoring?” he repeats with a raise of his eyebrow, looking down at your foot rubbing at his ankle. He hesitates but decides to then take your hand and stand up. “If we’re discussing something like that, we should probably go to my personal office. Wouldn’t want us to get interrupted by the next class in here.”

“Oh yeah,” you immediately agree. You grab your stuff and your fingers link with his as he leads you out of the classroom, down the hall to his office. Passing bulletin boards of flyers and other students heading to their next class, you realize it probably looks a little odd to be holding his hand, letting him guide you around. But it just turned you on more, feeling dependent, controlled.

After a while, you reach the door with the stick-on placard reading “Leon Kennedy.” Your heart pounds as you shuffle through the entrance. The office was a decent size, having a desk, some book shelves, and a small loveseat in the back corner of the room.

He slides past you and walks behind his desk, taking a seat in his chair that was clearly much more comfortable than the generic one in the lecture room. It dawned on you though that that was the only other chair in the room. There was the couch, but that was too far away from the desk for your purposes.

You approach the desk, similar to how you did all those weeks ago when this first started. He looks up at you with hesitant desire in his eyes.

“Why don’t you c’mere?” he asks.

“Ok,” you respond shyly. You drop your stuff near his desk and pad around it to approach him. Standing between his muscular thighs, you almost can’t focus from the volume of your pulse in your ears. His eyes look you up and down, more overtly than they ever had in the past. It now felt like you were hurtling towards a collision without a possibility of stopping.

After a moment of silence, he rips you from your thoughts. “Go ahead and ask your questions,” he says.

“Oh yeah,” you say, perking up a little since you had nearly forgotten about your facade of innocent curiosity. “I was just wondering if I could maybe start getting some… extra help.”

He chuckles and leans back in his chair. The maneuver gives you a better view of his broad chest and sculpturesque arms. You feel even more flustered, and you know it’s about to get worse because he obviously picks up on it.

“I don’t really think you need extra help quite honestly. Your grade is fine, and you seem to understand a lot, even the tedious things you ask questions about,” he says, a subtle arrogance on his face as he drags this out.

“No, I really think I do,” you say softly, shifting back and forth in place.

His eyes look up at you with a knowing glint. He shakes his head with a smirk as his gaze falls down to your legs that couldn’t stand still.

“With what? Like I said, even those things you pretend to not know, you obviously do. You ace every test, and while I’d like to believe it, I don’t think my advice is that helpful.”

As the words left his mouth, Leon knew he was getting into dangerous territory, leading you to a place neither of you could just return from. The rational part of his mind was slamming on his mental brakes to no avail.

You were in a similar place, your mind racing and trying to decide whether to go for it or not. After a quick moment, it was as if a bright neon sign flashes in your mind. The words telling you to try. You decide on moving forward and ignoring the other part of you that’s telling you to turn around and walk out the door right now.

You sit on his lap, straddling him with each of your legs on either side of his thigh. You look down as your fingertips drag along the waistline of his pants. 

“I just think there are other things I could learn from you,” you say, your voice shaking from your nerves.

“Tell me what they are,” he breathes. His own heart slams against his ribcage at your gesture. His natural instincts scream at him to pull you close and take what he wants, making his fantasies reality.

“It’s easier for me to show you,” you say. You felt if you had to speak anymore you might lose your nerve, so you go all in. You lean forward and connect your lips. With feather light kisses, you move your mouth on his.

At first, he doesn’t kiss back, and fear zaps through you. After a moment of shock though, he reciprocates. Your hands slide up his chest while he grabs your hips to pull you closer. The two of you go at it a little longer with soft smooches. Then he feels your tongue swipe against his bottom lip.

He pulls back and looks at you. He couldn’t do this. But God, just look at you. Your chest heaving with your heavier breathing, those plush lips wet with saliva, pretty eyes looking at him like a pleading puppy. He groans and runs a hand over his face and through his hair. His head falls back against his chair.

“Sweetheart… we shouldn’t do this,” he says, not looking at you to try and keep his resolve.

You bite your lip as your eyes widen with anxiety. “Did I do something wrong?” you say, shaky voice returning.

You try to keep it together. He still wasn’t looking at you, but you silently vow to yourself that you wouldn’t cry from the rejection. There would truly be no coming back from that. It would be hard enough seeing him on Monday as it was. If you shed any tears, you’d have to drop the class regardless of how close the end of the semester was.

“No, honey. I did. I just… it’s wrong,” he offers weakly, not convinced of his own excuse, “I shouldn’t have let it get this far. I’m sorry.”

Despite your internal promise, you felt barbs scraping at your throat with each swallow. Hot, stinging tears pricking at your eyes. You try to push it all back down, spare yourself some dignity.

“But- But don’t you-” you start, cutting yourself off to maintain your composure. You take a deep breath before finishing. “Don’t you like me?”

Leon cracks his eyes open and looks down at you. A critical error. He felt like such a dick. There you were, still on his lap, lip quivering, eyes lined with tears and full of uncertainty. He managed to make this into what he wanted to avoid, a complete mess.

“No- I mean yes, I like you a lot. That isn’t the issue here. We- I… we just can’t do this. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let it go on this long,” he sighs, hands falling to your hips to move you off his lap.

Now, tears were really threatening to fall. You grab his shoulders to stabilize yourself and stop him from lifting you up. Your mind scrambles for an argument that could work.

“Why?” is all you can manage. As if you didn’t know.

“Baby, I’m your teacher. It wouldn’t be right,” he says, forcing himself to remain unaffected by the kicked puppy look you had going on, “I have to stay objective, and that’s hard enough with a cute little thing like yourself.” He smirks at the end of his statement and rubs your cheek, trying to lighten the mood.

It doesn’t work, your eyes are fixated on his belt buckle as a part of the strategy to keep your tears from leaking out. You subconsciously lean into his hand on your face though, a gesture that makes his heart melt. You just nod faintly. Think, think, think, think, you tell yourself. 

“But it won’t be like you’re cheating for me. I get good grades. It’s not like I’m fucking you to pass…” you reason.

“I know that, sweetheart, and you know that. But you have to understand. Think about it. What if people found out? I’d be risking my job, and I can’t imagine it would go well for you either,” he says softly, stroking some of your hair behind your ear.

“No one will find out,” you say. Your head tilts up so you can look into his eyes.

He immediately looks away, afraid he would cave if he stared into those sweet spheres of desire. You catch this, realizing it may be your way ahead.

“You’re a sweet girl, honey. Pretty and smart. The kind any man would be lucky to have. If this was a different situation, I wouldn’t hesitate. Not for a second. But it’s not,” he says, looking pained.

You push your lip out a little more and let one tear fall from each eye before quickly wiping them away,  smearing the warm liquid across your cheek. Leaning forward, you wrap your arms around him and press yourself to his chest. You look up at him, forcing him to make eye contact.

“I don’t want any man though,” you say quietly. You keep your stare locked on him, your eyes big and vulnerable to accentuate your point. “Please, sir.”

His cock jumps at the title leaving your lips. He sucks in a breath and tilts his head back. “Christ, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he says with a hushed groan.

You scoot forward a little bit, your hips grinding down on his lap with the motion. Your nose drags against his throat as you nuzzle his neck. You lay a kiss to his pulse point before murmuring, “Just a few more kisses? Then I won’t bring any of it up again. Pretty please.”

“Kisses…” he trails off, pondering the idea. Just a few more kisses. An obvious lie. But one he would at least pretend to believe just so he could have those sweet lips on his again. “Fine, but that’s it. You understand?”

“Mhm,” you respond without thinking. You lean up and kiss him. It’s not soft or gentle like the first time. This go is passionate from the beginning. Lips move together, and again, your tongue works to gain entry to his mouth.

The two of you make out for definitely more than a few kisses. Your hand slides up from his shoulder to the base of his neck, lightly tugging on his hair. He groans and squeezes your waist. You gasp between kisses at the sensation and grind your hips down again in response.

He grunts as he feels it, his cock getting a little stiff at the feeling. You do it again with a whimper. This time his fingers dig into your flesh, holding you with more authority.

“Be good, only a few more kisses, remember?” he grunts against your lips.

Continuing to kiss, you take a break from moving your hips and push your body against his again. Your soft tits push up against his chest. He tries to draw back, feeling cracks in his resolve as the warm globes meld with him. The backing of his chair stops him from getting too far away though. He grunts and his grip gets more firm, trying to keep you in a suitable position.

“Stay still. Think I’m giving you more than you asked for anyway. Don’t make me cut it off here,” he mumbles before going back in.

It was risky, but you felt like you had him. You felt him half hard between your legs and could feel his breath coming out in longer puffs. You do it again, rolling your hips on him, dragging your cunt over his bulge through the layers of clothing that separated you.

He growls and nips at your lip before harshly lifting your hips off his lap. You’re hovering above the growing tent in his jeans. You lightly rock them a few times with a pout, testing to see if you can get any kind of friction.

“What did I say?” he asks.

“It’s not fair, sir,” you whimper, ignoring his question.

“Oh, it’s not?” he says, maintaining his stern demeanor, “What’s so unfair?”

“Leading me on,” you huff.

Mix a bit of truth in with your seductive game, and you have him now. Real guilt and frustration swirls with the lust in the pit of his belly. He was all in now. There was no way you were leaving this office without his cum leaking from you.

“I told you what you were getting. You thought you could get away with being greedy,” he chides. He lifts you even more and puts you on your feet in front of him, between his thighs again. “Take your pants off.”

Your eyes widen. This was going to happen. Your fingers make quick work of your jeans, snapping the button and dropping them to pool around your ankles. You step out of them and nudge them to the side. He smirks up at you, standing there in your tight t-shirt and frilly pink panties. Of course, everything about you was cute.

His hands return to your hips and pull you on top of him. This time you aren’t on his lap though. You land on his thigh. You look down at the limb beneath you and then back at his face.

“Don’t play dumb now. You wanna rub that needy pussy on something, go ahead,” he says.

“But-“ you start before he cuts you off with a sharp smack on the ass.

“I don’t want to hear any complaining. You should count yourself lucky I’m letting you even do this,” he says as his hand rubs and kneads the cheek he just slapped, “Normally, I wouldn’t accept my little girl just doing whatever she wants like that. But because it’s your first time, I’m giving you a break. Gonna help fix this problem you’re having, thinking from between your legs instead of with that pretty little head.”

Your entire face heats up as he lays into you like that. You start rocking your hips, dragging yourself on his clothes thigh. You watch his face for approval as you go, but his eyes are transfixed on your lower body at the moment.

“There you go, baby. That’s right,” he says encouragingly before cracking you on the ass again, “Little faster. Wanna see how bad you’ve been wanting this.”

You do as he says, rolling your hips with more speed and force. The fabric of your panties begins to dampen with your arousal as you press onto it. Whimpers fall from your lips as you grind your swollen pussy on his muscle. He gives you some help, guiding your movements by holding your hips. You softly gasp a few times, biting your lip as you continue to rut against him.

“Look at you,” he coos. Your tits bounce beneath your t-shirt as you ride his thigh. “Been thinking about this a lot, sweetheart? Dream about this while you’re sitting in class, hm? Humping my leg like a dumb little puppy.”

“Yes,” you choke out and toss your head back. A guttural moan leaves you, and he chuckles, giving your hip a tighter squeeze.

“Quiet, babydoll. Don’t want anyone outside this room hearing. I don’t think they’d believe this is just some ‘special tutoring,’” he says.

You keep up your grinding, your pussy sensitive to the rough fabric of his pants even through your panties. He tries to help you quiet down by pulling you closer and cradling your head against his shoulder, muffling your sounds against his shirt. The cloth becomes wet with your spit as your hushed moans spill out.

After going for a little while longer, he can tell you’re getting close. It’s obvious in the way your hips sputter every couple of thrusts, how your voice is getting whinier, how your body contracts every few moments. Your hands curl into fists, clutching the fabric of his shirt.

“Such a good girl,” he whispers, “Getting close, baby? Think you’re gonna cum soon?”

“Yes, sir,” you whimper.

“Aw, so polite,” he teases just like he had those weeks ago, “Well, tell me when you’re right there. Gonna make it extra special.”

You nod obediently and continue working yourself to the high point. Your breaths become sharper and movements get more erratic. You feel the band of pleasure stretching inside you, ready to snap.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum, “ you ramble out.

“Not yet, you aren’t,” he says. 

With a menacing grin, he yanks your hips up and flips you around. Mind spinning from the sudden loss of pleasure, you whine and squirm on his lap. A pointless struggle seeing how your soaked panties were faced out away from any potential source of friction. Your back’s flush against the warmth of his chest. You can feel his heartbeat thudding behind you as his hands curl around the back of your legs and bring them up so that your feet are planted on his thighs. Your head slumps back against his shoulder, turning to look up at him, pleading frustration projecting from your eyes.

One of his arms snakes around your waist while the other comes up to stroke your chin with his thumb. He looks down at you, eyes full of amusement as he toys with you.

“Now that was really unfair, wasn’t it pretty girl?” he taunts.

You arch your back off his chest with another whine before collapsing against his broad form again. You nod, feeling the sparks of ecstasy dwindle within you.

“You’re a tease,” you huff.

“I am?” he mocks. 

He begins trailing his hand down your front, stopping level with your breasts. He squeezes them gently with some firm caresses from his fingers. Then he lowers his hand further and slips it beneath your shirt. Your breath hitches as he begins stroking the soft skin of your belly up to the valley between your breasts. His palm slides beneath the cups of your bra, feeling the bare skin of your chest. He alternates between each. The rough pads of his fingertips drag over the sensitive flesh of your nipples, giving them tender pinches that draw hushed mewls from you.

“So soft, baby,” he whispers with a kiss to your temple.

It felt nice, made your breasts feel heavy and achy, begging to be touched. Had your head hot and airy, unable to control the way you melted against him or the sweet noises that escaped you. But you couldn’t really enjoy that because your pussy was still throbbing, still desperately searching for the orgasm that was stolen from you. You squirm again, pushing your ass back against the bulge you felt growing in his pants.

“Please, sir. Please,” you whimper, “Wanna cum.”

You feel his lips curl into a smile against the side of your head, but his tone remains rough and commanding. “I think the next thing I gotta teach you is patience.”

Retracting his hand from your bra, he smooths it back down your stomach to the hem of your panties. His fingers fidget with one of the strips of lace on the garment while he stares into your eyes.

“You know, baby, I think you’re the tease here,” he breathes. He rubs the skin just above your panties and then moves under the fabric. His digits glide through your slick folds, the touch meandering, just at the border of giving you pleasure. “I mean, I think you know what you’ve been doing.”

“What?” you say, struggling to take in his words when you were fixated on his touches to your center.

“You act like a dumb little doll, sweetheart, but I know you’re not. I know you know how to play. Parading around in those pretty outfits, something always on your lips, always saying ‘yes sir,’” he whispers. His digits circle your clit at a painfully slow pace. He brushes over it slightly, giving you hope before flattening his hand over your cunt. You get ready to whine about the teasing before he pushes two fingers inside you.

“Mr. Kennedy,” you gasp, head pressing back further against his shoulder.

“Oh, and how could I forget my favorite, ‘Mr. Kennedy.’ But I think it’s about time you start calling me Leon, babydoll. No need to be so formal anymore,” he says as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right.

You shake your head and whimper. His palm rubs down on your puffy clit with every thrust of his hand.

“Oh no?” he teases, “You like Mr. Kennedy taking care of you, making you feel good?”

Your eyes roll back as you nod. “Mhm. Yes… s-sir,” you say.

You stumble over the word ‘sir.’ Leon catches it immediately, and he’s certain he knows why. He knows what you really wanted to call him.

“Mmm, good girl,” he purrs in your ear, seeing the way the praise pulls extra gasps from you, makes your eyes all glossy, “You’re so sweet, baby. So precious.”

He lays it on thick, trying to get you to crack and say the word on the tip of your tongue. His fingers massage your sensitive spots as they consistently slide into your dripping cunt. You bite your lip, more whimpers coming from you. You look up at him again through your lashes.

“Thank you, sir,” you say, voice all soft and dreamy as you start climbing to that high.

“Of course, babydoll. You deserve it,” he says into your hair, “But you know, I still think ‘sir’ is too professional. Makes me feel like I’m at work. Plus, I get the feeling you have another name in mind too.”

“I- I do?” you ask, looking up at him curiously. He smiles at your naivety and the way you try to get your words out around your whimpers.

“Oh yeah. I can already hear it, sweetheart. You like being taken care of, being doted on. I can see it. All you want is to be a good girl for…”

“Daddy,” you whine, your eyes squeezing shut.

“That’s right,” he chuckles. He speeds up his fingers, delving as deep as possible. A quiet squeal erupts from you, and he hushes you while kissing your cheek a few times. You try to keep your noises down even as your hips buck and your heels dig into the meat of his thighs.

“Daddy I- Daddy, Daddy, I’m gonna cum,” you moan.

“Aw, but I don’t want my baby to cum yet,” he mocks. Just as quick as the release had built in you, it was gone. He pulls his fingers out of your hole, and your eyes widen. You whimper in disbelief, hips squirming as if they could find that sensation again if they were positioned just right.

“Daddy!” you practically cry.

“Thought I told you to be quiet,” he says, taking his fingers, still wet with your slick, and shoving them into your mouth. You hum around them in surprise at first, but in no time, your tongue presses against the skin, tasting yourself on him. He pumps them in and out a little, a smaller version of what he had been doing moments earlier down below.

“There you go, baby. Like I said, no complaints. Just shut that silly mind off and focus on Daddy’s fingers,” he murmurs. He watches with approval as you do exactly that, your eyes fluttering a bit as you clear your thoughts out. “Such a fast learner.”

Your pussy still aches with a need for him, but it’s more tolerable when he’s cooing in your ear while your lips are around his fingers.

“Bet my pretty girl wants to cum so bad right about now,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear.

“Mhm,” you hum as you take his fingers further into your mouth.

“Well, you know why Daddy didn’t let you cum yet? It wasn’t just to be mean to you,” he says.

He hears garbled “I don’t know” come from you. He strokes your hair with his other hand.

“It’s because,” he starts. He removes his fingers from between your lips and scoops you up. Next thing you know, your back is against the hardwood of his desk. You’re looking up at him with hazy eyes, slowly blinking as you take in his words. “I want you to cum all over Daddy’s cock.”

In mere seconds, his belt clanks against the floor, your panties are gone, his fly is undone, and his dick is out, rock hard. It’s flushed and leaking precum as he moves it to your entrance. He pushes the tip in first, teasing you by holding himself there.

You whine at the slight intrusion, wiggling your hips for more. Jutting your lip out a bit, you look up at him with a pout. “Daddy…” you plead weakly.

He shakes his head with an amused smile, but it works. He pushes the rest of his length in, filling you up completely. As he slides in, a long groan leaves him and his head tilts towards the ceiling. He grumbles something along the lines of “so fucking tight.” Your fingers reach downward to grip the edge of his desk. It felt like you were already there again, right on the brink of release.

After a moment of just taking in the feeling, he begins thrusting. He pulls his hips back and pushes them forward again. His cock slides between your walls with no resistance, the perfect fit. You were already pulsing around him, sucking him in deeper. A deep laugh rumbles from his chest.

“You're gonna cum already, baby. I’m that good?” he mocks. He thumbs your clit, sending a burst of pleasure through you that makes you clamp down on him. He grunts and starts thrusting a little harder.

You’re whining quietly, but you can’t hold back the yelp when he pinches your clit. You cum on the spot, gushing around him. You babble incoherently and buck your hips. The high was higher than any euphoria you’d ever felt. You’re panting when it’s done, but he’s still going.

He’s smirking down at you, rocking his hips all the while. “Did I say you could do that?” he asks with a light spank to your clit.

You gasp and arch your back off the desk. “No!” you whine, “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“I’m sure you are.” Another spank. “You’re lucky it’s your first time, and I’m giving you a break today.”

You nod quickly. “Thank you Daddy,” you mumble.

He keeps thrusting, seamlessly going between hard and fast and slow and deep. The motions shake the desk back and forth, sliding inches on the floor each time. You feel like there’s gonna be scrape marks when you’re done.

You also feel like you’re gonna have marks from the way he’s gripping your hips, battering your sensitive pussy. You were so worked up from all the teasing that the overstimulation didn’t even faze you. Your head just droops back, hanging off the edge of the desk. 

It’s harder to keep track of how loud you’re being when you’re this out of it. He smiles at your needy whines and pulls your thighs forward so your head is back on the desk. He leans forward, covering his body with yours and grinding his hips deeper than before. His hand comes up and covers your mouth.

“You better hope no one hears, pretty girl. We didn’t lock the door,” he pants.

You moan against the flesh of his hand and your walls tighten their grip on him. He growls in your ear at the sensation before a low chuckle comes from him.

“Oh, you’d like that? I should’ve known,” he teases, “You’d love for someone to come in and see how good you’re being. What a sweet girl you are, being used by your teacher. Love for them to see all the things Daddy’s teaching you.”

A strained cry bubbles beneath his fingers, and you nod, feeling shameless about your fantasy. He nuzzles the side of your head and keeps thrusting as deep as he can. He knows you’re getting close again, and this time, he’s right there with you.

“Come on, sweet baby. Give Daddy another one. I know my precious girl can do it. You were wanting it for so long,” he grunts.

Your whole body seizes as another orgasm rips through you. Your whines and cries are fortunately muffled by his palm, but he feels your drool leaking against his skin. His own eyes squeeze shut as he gasps and moans. His hips jerk, pounding into you a few more times before he cums. He bites his lip to silence his own noises as he spills into, filling you to the brim.

Both of your chests are heaving in the end as you take in gulps of air. He slowly pulls out and pushes some of his hair out of his face. You're both half dressed, his pants down to his knees, shirt unbuttoned. You, nude from the waist down and bra shifted out of place beneath your shirt. 

The two of you stand up, you on shaky legs, and pull yourselves back into shape. You pull your panties up and follow them with your jeans while he does the same with his pants. He then falls back into his chair and takes you with him.

He just holds you to his chest for a little bit, rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head. You don’t say anything either. You curl up into the affection and stroke his forearm gently.

“Sweet girl,” he murmurs before squeezing you a little tighter.

You’re both so into it, not caring about anything beyond this office at this moment. That is until you catch a glimpse of the clock on the wall.

“Oh… Mr. Kennedy,” you start as you slowly untangle yourself from him and stand up, “I probably should get going. I have to meet my friend to study soon.”

He’s not happy about losing your body on his, but he smiles at your words.

“Alright, honey, but seriously. It’s Leon from now on,” he says.

“Ok,” you laugh with a nod, “Leon.”

You grab your things and give him one more sweet look before turning to walk to the door. He pats you on the ass and kisses your cheek.

“See you Monday, baby,” he says.

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 2

Part 1: Linked Here!

AO3: Linked Here :)

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋

Genre: Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Making Out

CW: MDNI!, A18+, kissing, romance, sexual tension, semi-spicy scenes, lemon

Link to My Master List

Scenes from the afternoon hookup replay in your mind over and over as you sit in the library at a battered old desk in the history section. All you can think about is Shoto’s mouth. And his hands. And his abs!! And his sweet face.

You twiddle your pen in your hand as you try to draft out an essay for class. Unfortunately, every time you try to jot down a few thoughts your mind goes blissfully blank and you remember the tender way he spoke to you.

"How am I going to get anything done now, knowing that you can kiss like this?"

“You’re so beautiful. Your skin is so soft…I never realized how great it would be to touch you.”

“Find me later so we can discuss this.”

You look down at your watch excitedly – 7:55 PM. You eagerly wait for Shoto to appear so the two of you can talk and – with any luck – canoodle amongst the history textbooks. You sit patiently as the time ticks by.

Soon it’s 8:30 PM. You’re not worried, though. Shoto probably assumed you’d want to get some work done first.

9:15 PM rolls around and you start to get worried. You try to distract yourself with school work as doubt creeps into your mind.

10 PM – Shoto still hasn’t showed.

“Shit shit shit.” You check your phone again and again as you wade through the endless wave of homework your teachers have assigned. You keep losing yourself in a math problem or in a passage of your History textbook, only to remember with a jolt that you were expecting to see Shoto and the bastard hasn’t showed.

At 10:30 PM you realize with a sinking feeling that it’s almost past curfew. You pack up your things and prepare to head back to the dorms. There’s a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach that you can’t shake.

You slide your books into your bag as a anxious thoughts dance through your mind like annoying fruit flies: Does Shoto regret your mid-afternoon hookup? Is he going to pretend it never happened? Did you push him too far? Does he think you’re a slut for stripping off your shirt and basically pressing his face into your naked breasts!? The synapses of your brain jump through dozens of equally horrid and embarrassing scenarios as you march back to your dorm room, blushing furiously with humiliation.

You run through the afternoon’s events in your head for what feels like the hundredth time, trying to find a clue as to why Shoto would have left you waiting alone in the library. Your cheeks burn hotter as you recall the gentle way Shoto had kissed your neck before leaning in to capture your lips in one of his first kisses. "How am I going to get anything done now, knowing that you can kiss like this?" You shiver as you think back to how gentle he was, how each caress felt so loving and intimate.

You shake your head to clear it. Shoto must have a valid excuse for not meeting you in the library as he had promised – no boy could kiss someone that intimately and then instantly cast her aside, right?

Before long, you’re walking through the doors of Class 1A’s dorm building. You shiver with discomfort as you recall how earlier that day you essentially scaled the side of a building for a boy. Does Shoto think you’re an absolute fool with the extremes you went to for a quick make out session? You hope not.

You walk up the stairs and past the common area. You see most of Class 1A studying quietly. Sero, Izuku, Kirishima and Ida sit around one of the kitchen tables reviewing their math homework while some of the girls compare English notes on the couch. To your relief, Shoto isn’t there. Mina waves to you enthusiastically, beckoning you to join her and YaMomo as they review the finer points of Hamlet. You politely decline and make a beeline for your room. You turn the key in the lock and it clicks – within moments, you are blessedly alone.

You toss your heavy book bag to the ground and prepare to wallow in self-pity. It’s 10:56pm and Shoto still hasn’t reached out to you. Your phone is vacant of text messages and your brain is absolutely fried from schoolwork.

You dim your room lights and switch on the favorite fairy lights for some peaceful ambiance. Time for some self-care, bitch! You think resolutely as you swap your uniform for your favorite pair of pajamas. You toss your phone to the floor with abandon and climb into your comfy bed. You breathe in deeply, allowing yourself to revel in the coziness of the dorm room.

You take out your five-minute bullet journal and write a quick list of things you're grateful for: 1. The opportunity to study at UA 2. Your lovely and encouraging friends and classmates 3. Your cozy room and the roof over your head 4. Shoto’s mouth 5. Shoto’s abs 6. Shoto’s goddamn hard AF dick

Um. No.

You snap the journal shut before you get too derailed.

You pull your comforter over your head and sit in silence for a moment. You’ve never been the kind of person to go completely boy-crazy. You always used to make fun of those girls who would go gaga over pretty boys and their texts and their kisses. But as you recall the searing way that Shoto kissed your lips earlier that day, you suddenly understand what all the boy-crazed girly hype was all about. Oh my god. You have a crush. A big sloppy embarrassing crush.

In the silence of your room, you suddenly here a buzzing noise coming from the general direction of your book bag. You struggle to disentangle yourself from your sheets and your journal goes flying. You ignore its crash landing as you slip from your bed and collect your phone from where it lays abandoned on the carpeted floor.

It’s Shoto.

Your heart skips.

Todoroki: Y/N. Are you awake?

You bite your lip, unsure how to respond. Did Shoto just send you his version of “U up?”

Y/N: Yes, I’m still up.

Todoroki: I know it’s late, but can I stop by?

You tense. Oh God – he’s going to come by to tell you that he’s not interested. He’s going to thank you for your time making out and say that you probably should avoid hooking up in the future because it’s a huge distraction. You’re sure that whatever he has to say is going to be negative and leave you feeling embarrassed. Why else would he have skipped out on your rendezvous in the library?

You take a deep breath. You have always been fairly practical with a mind for strategy, two qualities that had really set you apart when you had taken the UA entrance exams. You know that the best course of action here is to rip off the Band-Aid sooner rather than later. Better to know how he feels about your hookup now

Your heart sinks as you type out:

Y/N: Sure, I’ll leave the door unlocked for you. Just come in. Try not to be seen by anyone.

Todoroki: Of course. See you shortly.

Your heart beats double time as you look down at yourself. Your pajama set consists of a silky blue top with matching shorts that don’t leave much to the imagination. You chew on your thumb nervously – should you change into something more appropriate? No – Shoto has seen your boobs. A little bit of leg is not going to kill the half hot half cold hero in training.

You quickly remake your bed and kick your book bag beneath your desk so that the floor is clear. You plop down on your smooth comforter and wait, knotting your hands together as you anticipate Shoto’s arrival.

A few anxious minutes pass, and then you hear gentle footsteps pad down the hallway outside your door. The knob turns quietly, and in a moment Shoto Todoroki steps across your threshold, quietly closing the door behind him. He reaches down to turn the lock with a gentle snap of his wrist.

You take him in – he’s wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a soft white t-shirt. You’ve never seen him dressed so casually before and you assume that these are what he wears as pajamas in the privacy of his own dorm room. His hair is tousled and damp from a recent shower, and the burned side of his face shines where he’s clearly applied some kind of scar cream or moisturizer. His outfit projects a comfy air, but his expression is dark and stormy. Your heartbeat quickens in fear – what could possibly have caused him to be in such a tempestuous mood? Was this about your kissing?

You bite at your lip with worry. But when your eyes lock, his expression softens. In two quick strides, he’s at the bed. He leans in close so that your noses almost touch.

“Hi.” He says softly, before dipping his mouth to meet yours. You blink in surprise as your mouths melt together. His eyes flutter shut as he sinks into the kiss. Pleasure radiates up and down your spine as you kiss him back. He places both his palms on your hips and pulls you closer, letting out a small moan of satisfaction as he slides his tongue into your mouth. How silly you feel for thinking he didn’t want you like this!

After a few moments, you break apart.

“Hey there.” You whisper, bringing your hands up to cup his beautiful jaw. He leans in to kiss you again and you hold him in place. He stops and looks down at you inquisitively.

“I waited for you in the library, you didn’t show.” You say slowly, softly.

“My father decided to take me through some drills in one of the school’s gyms. I only finished a half hour ago.” His expression becomes dull as he speaks. “I’m sorry to leave you waiting. I wanted to see you - but I’m not allowed on my phone during training.”

Relief must have flooded your features, because he tilts his head to the side questioningly. You hold back a giggle – the way his head is tilted makes him look like a sweet dog asking its owner for a treat.

“What’s wrong?”

You sigh and pull yourself further onto the bed, patting the spot next to you as an invitation. Shoto climbs up next to you, sinking into the deliciously soft fabric. His eyes widen slightly in surprise.

“This is so comfortable.” He says, pressing his palm into the plush fabric beneath him. You recall his sparse traditional bedroom and realize that he’s never laid on a proper puffy mattress before.

“Hold on – it gets better.” You say pushing him off the bed so you can pull down the covers. You slip beneath the comforter and gesture for him to rejoin you. He climbs in clumsily, unsure how to position himself within the sheets. You prop a pillow beneath his shoulders as he lays down on his side. You toss the comforter over the two of you and lay across from him, feet almost touching beneath the warm layers of bedding.

“Cozy?” You ask as Shoto settles into the bed.

“Yeah.” He says in quiet voice, propping himself up on an elbow. “I always thought beds like this were excessive but…maybe there’s some merit to this.” He eyes a blue Squirtle plush that sits next to you in the bed. “Can I…hold that?”

You grin, biting back a laugh as you reach over to grab the Pokémon plush. “This is Squirtle – he’s one of my favorite plushies.” You hold up the stuffed animal and wiggle it in front of Shoto’s eyes as if it’s dancing. “Squirtle, Squirtle” you say in a low tone, trying to emulate the television character’s voice the best you can.

Shoto gives you a weird look. “I don’t get it. Why are you just repeating its name in a strange voice?”

“Shoto…have you…have never seen Pokémon!?” You almost screech in disbelief, before throwing a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself. You quickly remember that you are in the dorms and the walls aren’t super thick.

“No, I wasn’t allowed to watch television unless it was about Pro hero work.” Shoto says, a tinge of sadness flowing along with his words. “But it looks cute and round and I really just want to hold it and squish it?”

“Yeah, that’s the general reaction to plushies. Dude, we need to get you that whale pillow you liked on Pinterest. You need more cuteness in your life.”

“Well I have you, don’t I?” Shoto smiles softly. “You bring more than enough cute into my life.” He reaches out and grabs the plush from your hands and squishes it a bit. “But this is pretty nice, too.”

Your face grows hot at the compliment. Shoto tucks the Squirtle under his arm and shifts around in the sheets until he finds a comfortable position. He looks adorable and soft as he cradles the bright plush in his strong, muscular hands.

When he finally settles in, he looks up at you enquiringly. “What’s wrong?” He repeats, looping you both back to the conversation form earlier.

“So…” You sigh with embarrassment. “When you didn’t show up and I didn’t hear from you…” You pause and Shoto gives Squirtle a squeeze. “I thought you didn’t want to see me again. Or at least that you didn’t want to make out with me again.”

“Oh.” Shoto wasn’t expecting this. “I thought I made it very clear how…enthusiastically…I enjoyed our time together this afternoon. I didn’t realize I had left any room for you to question my attraction to you.”

“That’s nice to hear…but when you didn’t show at the library or send a text, I assumed the worst. My mind kind of went into full-blown panic mode. I thought maybe once you had time to reflect on our hookup, that you realized you didn’t like it or that you didn’t really like me. To be perfectly honest, I’ve never felt that way before. Usually something like this wouldn’t bother me.” You take a deep, steadying breath. “But I think I really like you and want to be close to you, and the thought that you might not feel the same was tearing me apart for the last couple of hours.”

The words come tumbling from your mouth before you can stop and think them through. Why are you saying all of this!? Why does being around Shoto make you feel so comfortable and open to sharing? It’s so weird – and you’re absolutely sure he’s going to think you’re some kind of over sharing freak for telling him all of this.

Shoto looks at you thoughtfully for a long moment before speaking. “Something I have always admired about you is your ability to be straightforward about what you’re thinking and feeling. Most people aren’t like that, and I have a hard time navigating more subtle situations. Thank you for telling me exactly what you’re thinking – I value it so much.” He runs a hand through his slightly damp hair, moving the bangs out of his bright eyes.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I had abandoned you. I wanted to come to the library so badly. I want to kiss you so badly – it’s all I’ve been thinking about tonight.” His voice is so earnest that you believe him.

“Let me match your honesty with some of my own - my father is extremely strict. Ever since I was born, he’s pushed me to be better. To be stronger. He wants me to surpass him. He wants me to take All Might’s place as the number one hero.”

You gasp at this. Of course you knew that Todoroki was ambitious, but this…

“I don’t have any intentions of becoming harsh and cruel like my father. I’m not even sure if I want to go for the top spot on the hero charts.” He admits, almost bitterly. “That’s the path that my father has laid out for me. He’s obsessed with my training. With my ‘potential.’ But he doesn’t seem to give a fuck about how I feel. Excuse my language.” Shoto looks so sad, so despairing. He hugs the plush close, his chin tucked into his chest as he continues.

“I just want to help people and make them smile – just like All Might. But my old man just doesn’t seem to get that. Today, when he noticed how distracted I was… he didn’t ask if something was wrong. He just pushed me even harder.” Shoto avoids your gaze. “I think he purposefully pushed me to train into the night to keep me from meeting up with you. In his eyes…you’re a huge distraction for his prized creation.”

Suddenly you notice how exhausted Shoto looks – there are pale bags beneath his eyes. You scan his body and see light bruises beginning to form on the exposed skin of his arms. You wonder - just what kind of training has Endeavor been subjecting him to?

You had never guessed that behind Shoto’s calm and collected exterior, there is just a normal teenage boy trying desperately to please his father, while simultaneously trying to defy him. The whole relationship seems complicated and messy and you’re sure what Shoto is telling you is only the tip of a chaotic Todoroki family dynamic iceberg.

“Oh, Shoto.” You say softly. You scoot forward and wrap your arms around him. He freezes, unsure of what to do but nevertheless comforted by the sudden closeness. You reach behind him and card your fingers through his hair. You see goose bumps emerge across his skin, and realize that he likely hasn’t been touched this way before.

“Is it okay to touch you like this?” You whisper.

He breathes out a shaky “yes” as he moves to toss the Squirtle plush to the floor. Once his arms are free, he works to wrap them around you. He rests one strong hand on your back and slings the other around your delicate waist. He draws you close to him and holds you tightly as you continue to run your fingers softly through his two-toned hair.

He’s silent as he buries his head into your shoulder. There’s an emotion that’s radiating off of his body that you can’t quite place – sadness? Frustration? Maybe even relief? After a few moments of running your fingers through his hair and gently up and down his back, he finally starts to relax. The tense muscles in his shoulders loosen, and he seems to come back to himself.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” He whispers, muffled as he turns his face into the crook of your neck. “I’m not great at expressing my emotions. I can try to put it into words…I’m feeling so weighed down right now.”

“Because of your father’s expectations?” You prompt, running a light fingertip down his spine. He shivers a bit in response, but not in an unpleasant way.

“Sometimes I wonder if he sees me as a real person, as a son. Or am I just his big project?” Shoto wonders aloud, his voice a bit strained. You feel his eyelashes flutter against the sensitive skin beneath your jawline.

“Shoto...that sounds like a lot to carry. You’re just a high school student – your father shouldn’t be putting that kind of pressure on you. It’s not normal.” You tuck a lock of red hair behind his porcelain ear. “This situation sounds so complicated. It’s no wonder you feel so conflicted. I’m here any time you need a friendly ear to listen as you work through it.” You continue to caress him softly over his clothes. He begins to lean into your touch hungrily. “But right now – at this moment – you’re safe. In this room, in my arms, you don’t need to hold other people’s expectations of you in your heart. When you’re with me, I want you to feel that you can just be Shoto.”

You still your fingers as you let your words sink in. Shoto is radiating a deep sort of sadness that you wish you could smooth away with your fingertips.

“Thank you.” He says, his voice breaking a tiny bit as he processes your words. After a few beats Shoto exhales deeply, his breath ruffles your hair. “I’m not used to talking about these things. Actually, I’m not really used to talking much at all. Or being touched.” You can feel the blush on his delicate cheeks warm the skin of your neck.

“I can tell.” You say before you can stop yourself. To your surprise, he chuckles.

“I don’t know why it’s so easy to do these things with you – talking, touching…kissing.” He lifts his head off of your shoulder to look you square in the face. “There’s something about you…”

Suddenly, the room feels as if it’s charged with Denki’s electrification quirk as his bright mismatched eyes meet your own.

“I think I’d like to continue exploring this with you.” He says matter-of-factly, moving his legs to intertwine with yours.

“W-what does that mean?” Your breath catches in your throat as he dips forward to kiss down your neck.

“It means…I want to keep doing this. Kissing. Talking. I suppose I want to keep getting to know you like this? Intimately.” He places a soft kiss in the hollow behind your earlobe. “Would you like that as well?”

“Yes.” You breathe, with zero hesitation. He smiles into your neck before running the edges of his teeth lightly across your smooth skin. You let out a soft moan in response.

“Good. Then we’ll figure this out together.” He moves to kiss your cheek soundly before releasing you from his embrace. “But right now it’s well past midnight, and we both need our sleep if we’re going to continue to be top of our class alongside YaMomo and Ida. If we both let our grades slip, it might tip people off.” He moves to get off the bed.

“Hey – wait!” You grab his arm and pull him back under the covers. “I have no problem with you staying here for the night.”

“But wouldn’t that be inappropriate?” Shoto’s face reddens, but he lets himself be drawn back into your gentle embrace.

“Would it be anymore inappropriate than you making out with my tits?” Shoto’s face burns an even brighter red at this question, but he also looks quite pleased with himself (you assume he’s recalling the way he kissed down your breasts earlier that day as he smirks). “Sharing a bed should be perfectly responsible as long as we keep all of our clothes on. You said you want to explore? Well get over here and let’s figure out if you make a good big spoon.”

This earns one of those rare full smiles from Shoto – he practically glows. “Alright.”

He pulls himself close to you. You reach above your head and switch off the string lights that wind their way around your room, and the tiny dorm fills with darkness.

You turn to face the wall and scoot your body back until you feel Shoto’s solid warmth. He reaches around to pull you close until bodies are touching, flush together. You tuck yourself into Shoto’s warm, muscular body and sigh with contentment.

“So do I make a good big spoon?” He questions, tentatively nuzzling his face into your hair and inhaling deeply. “Mmm, your hair smells like lavender.”

“We’ll need plenty of practice to truly ascertain the full range of your spooning abilities.” You say in a faux-academic voice, causing him to snort out a laugh. “But so far you’re doing great.”

You interlock your legs and pull his strong arms around you. You wiggle a bit as you try to find the comfiest spot in the mattress. You unintentionally grind a bit against Shoto and jolt when you feel something hard pressed against the curve of your ass.

“Sorry.” He mutters softly, embarrassed.

“Maybe I’ll take care of that for you tomorrow.” You yawn as you close your eyes and settle in for a good night’s rest. You grin into the darkness as you feel Shoto’s dick get even harder as he mulls over your response, wondering at what you could possibly mean by “take care of that.”

You didn’t realize you were so tired. You’re dimly aware of Shoto’s breathing growing slow as he drifts off into a comfortable sleep. You smile softly to yourself as you slide further into his embrace. This poor, touch-starved boy has been through so many terrible things and your heart aches for him.

Even in sleep he’s tense, his jawline stiff and his muscles almost locked around you. But he’s warm and soft and smells like jasmine and mint tea. You hope that for the next few hours you can provide him with a safe harbor to rest and escape his troubles. You let your eyes flutter close and breathe in deeply, dreaming of Shoto’s sweet face as you fall gently into sleep’s embrace.

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

Part 3

🔥 Link to My Master List 🔥

[alexiroflife]

"five more minutes?"

part 2.

college au, grungy!choso, fluffff, beginnings of mutual pining

choso kamo x writing tutor!reader

Synopsis: your last tutoring session of the day catches you off guard when the hottest guy you've ever seen in your life walks into the writing center

to sum it up: you and choso didn't expect to enjoy each other's company so much and your giddy awkwardness shows it

WC: 3,700

Warning(s): none, just you and choso being cute as hell

-> guys i am speechless thank you so much for +2,000 followers y'all are amazing i love you so much

You, in truth, never wanted to be a writing tutor.

Your English professor had recommended you to do so, seeing that you had a tendency to excel in your creative and academic writing courses. Your major in english and the years prior you spent scribbling away the fantasies of your mind in middle and high school certainly were to commend for you exceptional writing skills now, but you find that any time you’re actually forced to put pen to paper instead of doing so on your own will dulls the experience entirely. 

You can’t necessarily complain too much because you are getting paid (certainly not enough as a junior in university), but you don’t exactly enjoy the tediousness of having to sit down with freshmen who are crawling their way through their introductory writing courses, fighting to keep their engagement as they try to rush you through your hour and a half appointment- despite how badly they need it.

Writing is an art, and should be treated as such, but god, the way the intro courses are treating it and how the students treat it accordingly truly hurts your soul. Especially because they’re required classes, and people never fare well in classes they’re forced to take. You have first hand experience with that.

You’re almost done for the day when you double check your schedule to see that you have one more slot filled before you can call it a day.

Sighing, you lean back in your desk chair and click on the profile of the boy you’re meant to be meeting with. Apparently he’s in a grade above you working on a seminar. You raise your brow, curiosity striking you. You don’t typically find many upperclassmen coming to your services since they normally already have the writing training that they need and have been crafting enough essays to get the hang of things, or are simply too lazy to be bothered with visiting the writing center.

You don’t have much time to ponder it before there’s a knock on your office door frame, signifying the arrival of the person you are to be mentoring. You look up, and the breath almost flies from your lungs when you see a tall brunette clad in heavy, dark cargo pants, a tattered band tee, and a puffy jacket. His heavily lined, violet eyes meet yours tiredly, though after a few moments, a sprinkle of light flickers its way into his irises upon registering the sight of you. 

“I’m… uh, here for my 3:30?” his remarkably deep voice mumbles out as he stares at you pensively, ringed fingers clutching the strap of his beaten satchel book bag. “You’re (Y/n)?”

You blink. “Oh, y-yeah. Sorry,” you clear your throat, hastily throwing on a friendly smile. “Come in. You can take a seat right here.”

You gesture to the chair before you at your desk, and he approaches, slinging his bag from his shoulder to the floor and seating himself in the cushioned seat. 

You scroll through your computer mindlessly to relocate his profile and exactly what he is here for, but you can’t deny the fact that your mind is immensely distracted by the presence of the man sitting in front of you. You can feel his pretty eyes wandering over the room, bouncing over you then to his lap. You clench your jaw to prevent yourself from practically screaming, for this kid is insanely attractive in a grungy, silent loner kind of way, and you’re unsure of how you’ll even be able to focus throughout the session.

“It’s Choso, right?” you ask, turning from your monitor to meet his diamond eyes.

He nods, pressing his lips together. “Yeah.”

“Okay, cool. Nice to meet you. Why don’t you walk me a bit through what you need help with?”

He releases a heavy sigh, scratching the back of his head and averting his gaze. “I don’t know, my senior sem professor said I needed to work on my paragraph structure for the essay part of the project,” he explains almost disinterestedly. “I don’t really know what she means, so I figured I’d just come here.”

“Okay,” you nod. “Do you have a draft that you can show me?”

Choso reluctantly nods once more, leaning over to collect his bag and pull out a thin stack of papers. He gathers them in his hands and as if embarrassed, slides them across the wood table toward you. You take it from him and briefly skim over the words, the title catching your eye.

“You’re a bio major?” you ask, interest piqued.

“…Um, yeah. I’m writing about blood coagulation… it’s kinda boring stuff I guess.”

“No way, I think that’s sick,” you say casually, flipping through the other pages. “I could never begin to understand that stuff.”

You miss the way Choso’s gaze lingers on your face in momentary, subtle surprise. Your eyes fly up from the page to him again, and he immediately looks away. 

You place the papers back down. “I can kinda see what your professor means just by first glance,” you tell him, reaching over to grab a red pen from your pencil holder.

“That fast?” Choso asks, raising a brow.

You chuckle slightly. “I mean, I didn’t get to see everything obviously. I was just browsing, but I do this a lot. I notice you tend to jump from one thing to another without a solid transition.”

“Oh.”

“That’s okay, though. And was it just paragraph structure…? Was there anything else you specifically wanted to look at?”

He shrugs stiffly. “I don’t really know,” he admits. “I’m… less of a writer and more of a researcher. I don’t really- I’m not too good with this kind of stuff in general. I just do the work.”

“That’s no problem. You’ve got the important parts down,” you assure him. “Here, why don’t we move to the center next door? It’ll be easier for me to help you with your paper when I’m next to you instead of sitting across.”

“Sure.”

You believe that you have sabotaged yourself in suggesting so, though moving to a less cramped room is something you always do with your clients. Even so, the second you and Choso seat yourselves beside each other at a rounded table in the next room, with another appointment taking place across the room and rather distant from you, his scent of woody cologne consumes your senses the moment his breeze blows past you with his settlement into his chair. 

Your eyes go slightly wide, his arm inches away from brushing yours when he throws his bag over the back of the chair. While he pulls out his computer and gets his papers and notes situated, you sneak a glance at him out of the corner of your eye.

He beholds the facial structure of a model, a rather bored, tired energy capturing his eyes but emphasizing his beauty nonetheless. His hair, you think, is styled uniquely into two ponytails, but it somehow complements his aura perfectly. Tendrils of chocolate brown sweep over his forehead and behind his ear, and that is when you catch a peak of a tattoo creeping up his neck from behind his jacket collar. 

This guy is too gorgeous for his own good. Part of you doesn’t believe that he is aware of his beauty himself, for he carries himself as though he wishes not to be seen, or more accurately, hardly pays any attention or care to how he is perceived by the surrounding world. He’s reserved, calm, and oh, the way his Adam's apple bops when he clears his throat softly is criminal.

You’re prepared to ask him about his tattoo when you recall that you are supposed to be maintaining a professional, yet amiable environment. To make it obvious that he’s captured your attention and then some would interfere with the entire purpose of his appointment, which he scheduled for academic assistance with you, a tutor. 

You immediately avert your gaze when reality smacks you in the face and you shift your focus back to his paper, sliding it under your palm and ripping the cap of your pen rather harshly. Just as you turn away, Choso finds himself peering over at you, but far less sneakily. 

He had come here expecting to despise the entire process, for his pride is slightly wounded that he even has to visit a writing tutor, but he refuses to allow his lacking skill in essay craft to debunk his grade in something he is so passionate about, and something that he desperately needs to graduate. Besides, he has come for help early enough in the process for it not to have much of a strain on the final product overall, but when he found you in your office, he hadn’t expected to be working with someone like… you.

He was expecting a stuck up hermit who was prepared to tear apart every single piece of his rough draft that he had thrown together, sneering down at him through round framed glasses and frowning at his sheer inferiority within the English department. Instead, he’s greeted with you; a fresh, friendly and drop dead gorgeous face that welcomes him in with no judgment. Aesthetically, and likely spiritually, the two of you can’t appear more different, but you don’t seem at all moved by his dark presence. You smile at him, and you compliment his work though no one has ever taken him as a guy interested in or withholding the brains of one who desires to study the inner workings of the human body. He half thinks you’re just being nice because it’s your job, but he can’t help but take a liking to you immediately solely because of how pretty he deems you to be.

Not only that, but you guide him through each and every one of his stand points within his draft, circling words, marking down sentences, scribbling little notes in the corner summarizing the main point he wishes to get across and how he intends to prove so with his research. You listen to him after asking him to explain something you don’t quite understand, and your eyes search his honestly as he mutters through his intentions that are yet to be properly conveyed on the page. You then nod along with him and tell him that he makes perfect sense when he talks, then you freely provide suggestions about how he can improve this portrayal of understanding in a different way.

And everything you tell him, he understands effortlessly. You have a way with your words and how you transcribe them into something that can be put into paper. You know absolutely nothing about what Choso does academically, but somehow, you magically transform that unknown into what you do know. You tell him that literacy is universal, so it’s easy for you to take any topic and help him construct it properly for literary intake. 

Choso finds himself enraptured by your tutoring. He’s agreeing with you, humming in interest and pointing at the things you write for him, typing away at his notes to record everything he’s hearing. He’s taken by the way your lips move when you speak passionately, intelligently; how your hands swirl animatedly with your speech as you paint physical pictures in the air of what you are verbalizing; how you grin widely when Choso adds onto your suggestions, proving that he is getting a hang of what you are telling him. And above all, Choso can see the joy in your eyes as you help him, how entranced you are by the chance to hold an intelligent conversation about what you have mastered doing and what Choso has mastered doing.

You actually like tutoring him, and Choso can tell because he has come to enjoy being tutored by you within the hour and a half block that you are given.

The two of you only make it through about eight of twenty pages before you somehow get off topic, minutes past your block has ended.

“How long have you been a tutor?” the purple eyed man beside you questions suddenly. You look up, closing the cap of your pen with a gentle smile. You don’t even notice the other appointment in the room leaving, the two of you now completely alone.

“Just for a little over a year,” you say. “I started at the beginning of sophomore year last year.”

“So, you’re only a junior,” Choso observes.

“Didn’t you know that when you clicked my profile on the tutoring site?” you tilt your head.

Choso shakes his head, looking down as he reaches his hand to his keyboard and bouncing his leg. “I… wasn’t paying attention,” he mutters and you laugh slightly.

“You could have picked anybody to help you, then.”

“Yeah, apparently,” he hums. “I’m glad I got you though.”

A certain giddiness captures you as your light smile brightens. “Really?”

“I- just mean, you’re a good teacher,” he adds quickly, brows drawing together. His jumping knee leans over the slightest in his manspreading position beneath the table, leading it to bump against yours clumsily. The two of you look down at the same time, and he brings his leg back in hastily. “Sorry.”

“You’re good,” you bring your shoulders up as you crowd your hands in your lap, his brief contact having startled your nerves. “And thanks. I try my best. I actually had fun during our session.”

He turns to look at you. “You had fun trying to fix my awful writing?”

“No, no,” you chuckle. “Usually I help a lot of freshmen and they don’t really care what they’re writing about, but you really seem to.”

He hums. “I get it.”

“So… why biology? Why blood function?”

“I don’t know. It’s always been cool to me, how much stuff happens inside the body that we can’t see,” he says lowly. “I also… got money to come here in high school for science and all that. It’s kinda always been something I’m good at.”

“You say that like it’s not a big deal,” you raise your brows, turning in your chair to face him completely. He glances at you momentarily from the side, but keeps himself awkwardly forward as he clicks randomly away at the keys on his computer. You can see a dust of pink creeping over his pale skin as he eyes his screen. 

“It’s not really. Plenty of people have scholarships and stuff.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t make yours any less impressive,” you say, and his blush brightens. He’s so cute. “What would you wanna do with that when you graduate? This is your last year, right?”

“Oh, uh,” he tilts his head back. “I’m looking for work now… but I don’t know, not a lot of jobs in my field would really…” he tries to find a way to explain. His lips tug to the side and his brows angle, hand finding his locks. “...approve of the way I present. I could probably get away with being a lab tech, but if not, I’d do something behind the scenes. Maybe get another job in retail, too.”

You hum, looking over him. “Is it because of your…” you stop to point to his neck. He looks at you quizzically, reaching his hand to where you point. His face relaxes in realization.

“Yeah,” he breathes out a light laugh, and you shiver. “Didn’t know you could see that.”

“Only a little…” you grin. “What is it?”

He takes in a deep breath, looping his fingers over his jack and pulling it down from the skin by his ear. His face is still lit with a pinch of color as he averts his gaze, tilting his chin so that you can see the sharp lines of ink swerving from behind his ear down to his collarbone, a cyber sigilism design. 

You gulp, your own face growing warm with heat as you examine the way his muscles ripple beneath the tattoo, his face bored though leg still jittery with nerves. 

“I like it,” you say as he releases his jacket and lets it rise to conceal his neck once more. “It suits you.”

He looks at you, pursing his lips. “Thanks. I have a lot more.”

“Yeah?” your eyes dash over his frame out of curiosity.

“You won’t be able to see them,” he tells you, and you snap your eyes right back up to his face. A small smile plays on his lips.

“O-Oh. Right,” you stammer. “How many do you have?”

“At least, like, twenty by now.”

“Really?!” you gasp, rather impressed. “Did they hurt?”

“Only a few, but you get used to it after a while.”

“Hmm. You’re making me think I should get a tattoo.”

Choso’s lips curl into a full fledged grin as he examines you, seemingly amused by the idea. You falter slightly when his teeth reveal from behind his soft lips, a dimple prodding in the corner of his cheek with his smile. “You’d get one?”

You pick up on his slightly playful tone and raise a brow. “Why? I don’t look like I would?”

He shakes his head. “I mean- well, no, but-” he paused. “I guess I don’t look like I’d want to be a medical professional, so.”

You can feel your smile widening, your heart brimming with excitement as he opens himself up to bantering with you. And his smile… you would have never expected such an angelic sight on someone like him. You knew he was handsome before, but now with his eyes shining with humor, his cheeks flushed, and a tumble of shy laughter spilling from his throat, you’re willing to risk everything for a chance to hear him laugh again.

“See?” you muse as he finally closes his laptop.

“Where would you get one?”

“Uhhhh,” you try to think. “Maybe… on my shoulder?”

“Yeah?” he pokes out his bottom lip and nods. “I think you’d pull it off,” he goes to tuck his papers back into his bag, keeping his eyes down as the next phrase falls from his mouth. “Maybe I should take you to get one.”

Your brows jump at his suggestion, unsure of whether he is joking or being serious. He catches your eye when he pulls himself back up, heliotrope pools simmering with that hint of bashfulness as he looks at you through his long lashes. 

“Y-You know,” he starts once more. “After you finish helping me with the rest of my essay.”

Your mind clicks when the topic at hand shifts back to the reason why you are sitting with him in the first place. You turn to look at the clock on the other side of the room and widen your eyes when you find that it is half an hour past when you were meant to be finished. “Speaking of,” you start. “We ran really late.”

Choso perks up, following your gaze. “Oh… shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to… keep you.”

“No, it’s okay! Really. I didn’t even notice what time it was,” you say. Choso stalls with his hand on his computer, having prepared to put it away, but something in his mind is making him hesitate.

“So-”

“Did you-”

You both stop, having talked over each other, and you laugh nervously. “Sorry, you first,” you tell him.

“No, you go.”

You oblige. “Well… when are you free next? We can keep working on your draft. Maybe in the library soon if you want a change of scenery? Or not, we could just stay here.”

You don’t know why you’re all of a sudden acting like a child struggling to speak before him. You are meant to be scheduling a follow-up, as you do with everyone you tutor, but somehow it feels as though you’re asking Choso out on a date.

Before you can say anything more, the brunette is nodding before he even comprehends what you’re asking. “Yes. The library is good. Let’s do that.”

You grin, relieved. “Okay. Cool. Great. When-?”

“Whenever,” he rushes. You blink, and he reels in upon noticing how quickly he answered. He turns away. “I mean- whenever you’re free.”

“Next week? Same time?”

He hums. “Yeah. That’s- that’s perfect.”

You go to stand as Choso reaches for his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. The two of you stand before each other, silence taking you as you find yourselves unsure of what else to say. 

You look to the side and notice that Choso’s computer is still sitting on the table. You reach out for it, gathering it safely in your hands and presenting it to him. “Here. Don’t forget this.”

He looks down at the device and his brows lift. “Oh, yeah. Right,” he takes the computer from your hands, brushing his fingers accidentally with yours, before pulling it into his grasp and tucking it into his bag, lowering his head to hide his flustered expression. “Thank you. And thanks for the… the help.”

You nod, smiling. “Anytime.”

You remain before each other for a moment more, neither of you desiring to leave just yet. 

“Should I, you know, give you my contact?” Choso suggests, and you perk up. “For next week, and I guess in the future when we schedule other appointments…”

“Oh, yeah! Sure, here.”

You pull out your phone and let him hover over you, his scent invading your senses once more as he types his number into an empty contact. You call it once he is finished so that your number can pop up on his phone, and he leans away. “Got it.”

“Great,” you smile at him. “I’ll see you next week?”

“Yeah. See you then.”

You watch his tall figure trudge away, out of the doorway and down the hall with his face into his phone as he works to save your contact. The moment he leaves, you heave out and press your hand to your chest, excitement fluttering through you in the form of butterflies. 

Hell. What you would have given to get just another five minutes alone with that beautiful stranger. Maybe he would have asked you to hang out sometime properly. 

[amourjins]

forgot something! - j.wy

pairing , classpresident!wonyoung x fem!reader

synopsis , as listening to beabadoobee’s ‘glue song’, you got an idea to do on your girlfriend.. or at least SOON-to-be girlfriend.

content ahead/genre , fluff!!!, highschool!au, umm no warnings its just silly little fluff

as you walked into class, only spotting your class pres, teacher, and some other classmates that came a little bit early, you took your seat. wonyoung looked up at you when you came in, her face lighting up at the sight of you.

you smiled at her, taking out your books and laptop to prepare for class. a few others walked in right after you, then came the whole class.

the teacher started the lesson when everybody settled in. you took your notes needed, the noise of the teachers writing on the whiteboard spreading throughout the classroom. you looked over at wonyoung, seeing her listening very carefully and closely at the teachers words as she wrote on and on.

“alright, everyone, please take the rest of class to work on your essays!” the teacher suddenly announced, erasing all of the writing off the whiteboard, making you stop doodling onto your notebook paper. you groaned as you turned the girl sitting beside you, kim chaewon. “i hate this essay..” you whispered to her, everyone around you opening up their laptops. “i hate this too, dont worry..” she responded back.

you put in your headphones, opening up spotify on your phone. you put on a random playlist that you had, ‘glue song’ by beabadoobee playing.

it immediately reminded you of wonyoung.

you didnt know why—you two werent even dating, and you didnt even know if she liked girls or not. but, what you do know, is that you two are the closest. always by eachothers side. and that was when you came up with a funny idea to play on wonyoung. she wouldnt play along, right?

as the bell rang, you immediately closed your laptop and slammed your books closed (gently), just happy to be out of that class. you stuffed all of your supplies inside of your backpack, groaning as you put it on. wonyoung seemed to already have packed up, and talking with the teacher. i mean, she was the class president, anyway.

the last bell of the day rang—indicating that everyone was free to head home. you walked out of class, walking to your locker, disposing a few things before you remembered the idea. you always knew wonyoung would be found at the library right after school, so you headed right over, immediately.

you peeked into the library, taking a look around. you took a step in, greeting the librarian as you asked about wonyoungs whereabouts, “do you know where jang wonyoung is?” you whispered, walking over to the counter where the librarian sat. “umm.. should be right at one of the desks. she’s told me about you, ln yn, right?” a light pink blush dawned onto your cheeks the second the librarian spoke. your heart raced, “uhm.. yes, thank you!” you thanked, immediately walking away to cover your face, and especially to calm down.

you walked to where the desks were located, spotting wonyoung flipping through pages of books and her laptop open. you sneaked over to her, standing beside her, “whatre you doing?” you questioned, startling her a bit as she looked at you, smiling. “hi, um, extra credit.” she replied, pointing at her laptop. you didnt understand anything that was on there, so you just nodded.

“anyway, did you need something?” she asked, directing her attention back to the books, shifting around in the chair. “um..” you thought for a second, taking a breath. “you forgot something today.” you lied (but did you really?). “what? huh? whatd i forget? i never forget anything,” she scrambled, as you just stopped her with a giggle. “no, not that.. you forgot to kiss me.”

“..are you serious?” a blush appeared on her cheeks as she turned to you, and you definitely did NOT expect her to react like this. “do you want me to be, jang wonyoung?” you teased, “oh shut up..” the taller girl mumbled, embarrassed, standing up.

“so are you?”

“am i gonna what?”

“kiss me.”

tension fueled between you two as wonyoung grabbed a book out of her book-bag, you confused on what she was about to do. she opened it up, holding it with her left hand. she covered the both of your guys’ side profiles with the book, covering the view of what you guys were about to do.

she leaned in, kissing you as her lips crashed onto yours. immediately after a few seconds, she pulled back, leaving you stunned. she then let go of the book, closing it and putting it back into her book-bag. she then went back to what she was doing, sitting down, acting like nothing happened. you sat down in the chair beside her, in a daze. your face was bright red as you dug your head into the wooden, cold desk.

“..no way class pres did that.” - k.mj

“did what?” - y.jm

“she held up a book to cover her and yns kiss,” - k.mj

‘ DON’T FORGET TO KISS ME,, OR ELSE YOU’LL HAVE TO MISS ME .. ’

[little-diable]

Who prays for Satan? - Priest!Tom Riddle (smut)

This isn't our usual dark!Tom, he's still fucked up, but not as dark as the other priest fics. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Priest Riddle is the reader's theology professor, a man she has always found herself interested in, but things escalate when she joins his church for her internship.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, guided masturbation (f), spanking, forced confession, smut in a church/in a confessional, choking, degrading, unaddressed age gap, power play, professor x student, religious connotations

Pairing: Priest!Prof!Tom Riddle x fem!student!reader (about 3k words)

"Please remember that you only have time until Friday to tell me, where you will do your internship. Have a good week, and don’t forget the essays, please.” The sounds of students hastily rising to their feet echoed through the room, but while some were desperate to leave, getting away from the professor who looked like God’s finest creation, but spoke like the Devil himself, others were desperate to catch his attention with bland questions he found himself annoyed by. 

“(Y/n), do you have a moment?” His voice drew her closer, past the group of students who looked at her with hate swimming in their pupils. She didn’t look at them as she walked past them, coming to a halt in front of the tall man with a soft smile glued to her lips. “Walk with me.”

Neither of them spared the others another glance as he strode out in the hallway, expecting her to follow him. It wasn’t the first class of his (y/n) was visiting, and it probably wouldn’t be the last, as she found herself awfully drawn towards the priest, who had taken on a few theology classes at their university. Something about him was different. Something she couldn’t let go of, no matter how hard she tried to. 

“I knew you’d turn in your essay days before the others would even begin writing it, but I was pleasantly surprised by your work this week. It was smart of you to use the famous Mark Twain quote: “But who prays for Satan? Who, in eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most?” It always stuck with me.”

“Thank you, Professor Riddle. You once told me how much you think of this quote, so it only felt right to use it for this week’s focus on sinning.” The throaty chuckle rumbling through him left her feeling surprised, not used to seeing him this giddy. His smile didn’t waver, not as they came to a halt in front of his office, not as he guided her inside, not as they plopped down on their designated seats. 

“Your essay isn’t the reason for this chat, though. I was thinking of what you said to me, and I decided that you can join my church for your internship. But I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell others I’m allowing you to do this, I never give out internships, and I’m only taking you on because I know how dedicated and smart you are.” Heat rose in her system, crawling up her throat to force (y/n) to avert her gaze. She had been desperate to find a church to join, not wanting to spend her internship as a simple office help, she needed practice, something to help her figure out what she actually wanted to do with her life.

“I highly appreciate this, thank you, professor. I promise, I won’t make you regret your choice.” Her eyes flickered back to his piercing ones, instantly sucked into his mesmerizing grasp. He was like a siren, luring her into his trap to feast on her darkening thoughts – thoughts she hadn’t been able to shake ever since meeting the tall priest. 

“I know you won’t, (y/n). You will start Sunday morning to join me for the first service of the day, and then we can go through your task for the upcoming two weeks.” 

……

“Professor?” Her voice hallowed through the empty church. It was still dark out, an early morning she had struggled to adjust to, and yet her nerves had managed to get her out of bed, finding her way towards these holy halls. Her sneakers met the ground as (y/n) walked up to the altar, letting her fingertips dance over the cold marble, appreciating the grounding sensation she was instantly taken over by. 

“You’re early.” Professor Riddle's raspy voice made her jump, she had been too distracted by her surroundings to hear him approach, slowly turning towards him with wide eyes. He was wearing his black signature suit, paired with the white collar she’d see in her darkest moments, making heat pool between her thighs. 

(Y/n) clawed her fingernails into her palms to rip herself out of the hazy fog calling for her, needing to stay focused before she could do or say something that would end her internship right there and then. 

“I thought you may need some help preparing for the service.” A sickly sweet smile tugged on her lips, forcing his teeth to rot from the mere possibility of tasting her. He took a step towards her, with his hands clamped together behind his back, giving him an extra authoritarian touch. But while her body screamed at her to take a step back, to find shelter behind the altar, her mind murmured to (y/n) to hold still, not daring to give in to his intimidation scheme. 

“I certainly appreciate your help, (y/n). I knew it was the right choice to pick you for this internship.” He towered over her, staring down at her with his gaze reminding her of a snake, ready to pounce, to sink its poisonous teeth into her quivering body. At that very moment, she was Eve, tempted by the eternal sin, and he was her downfall. She stood closer to him than ever before, front about to touch his, seeking the warmth he emanated in a place as cold as this church. 

“So, what should I do?” (Y/n) needed to get away from him, no longer trusting herself with ignoring the shameless whispers ringing in her ears. But the tall man didn’t back off, he kept watching her with that smirk that told her he knew exactly what she found herself bothered by. A losing game (y/n) had never been destined to win, burning out like a cigarette setting a petrol station ablaze, destined to burn to the ground. 

“Why don’t you choose this morning’s prayers?” He reached for the Bible resting on the altar, way too close to her. His front brushed hers as he leaned forward, reaching for the leather-bound book before pushing it into (y/n)’s grasp. Their eyes kept holding contact, even as his hand disappeared inside the pocket of his jacket, pulling free a black rosary. “Oh, before I forget. Here, I want you to have this.” 

(Y/n) didn’t get any time to react or to ask questions as he pushed the rosary over her head to let it rest on her chest. His hand kept holding onto the dangling cross, while his eyes flickered back to her confused ones. “They will know you belong to me, wear it whenever you are working here.”

……

Her eyes were focused on the bright laptop screen as she was typing away her notes for this day, promising to give them to Professor Riddle before leaving. Even though her thoughts were still all over the place, (y/n) found herself growing more comfortable around the tall man most students were scared of. He treated her kindly, and yet something was hiding behind his words and expressions she couldn’t pinpoint. 

“Are you done with your notes?” Professor Riddle’s voice filled his office as he stepped inside. (Y/n) didn’t lift her gaze at first, hastily trying to type the last sentence before she gave in and dared to look at him. 

“Just finished, should I print them?” He didn’t reply to her question, eyes fully focused on her upper body, trying to locate the missing rosary. With her breath hitched in her chest, (y/n) watched him approach, rounding the desk to find his way towards her. (Y/n) struggled to breathe as the scent of his expensive cologne clashed against her frame, forcing her to get lost in his darkening eyes. 

“Where is the rosary?” She knew that she had forgotten it at home this very morning, too tired to care about any rules and regulations, but her hand still snapped up to her chest, trying to find the missing piece.

“I’m sorry, I forgot it at home.” He didn’t give in to the soft smile (y/n) shot him, didn’t pick up on the exhaustion dripping from her words, solemnly focused on the way she had gone against his rules. His tongue kissed his teeth before he took a step back and stretched his ringed hand out for her to take. “Where are we going?”

“I wanted to go over this with you tomorrow, but it seems like tonight is the perfect time to do so.” (Y/n) was led out of his office and down the hallway towards the dark nave. They walked up to the confessional, and as he opened one door for her, he shot her a look that made her tremble, letting any protests die on the tip of her tongue. 

“Have you ever confessed before, (y/n)?” She was engulfed by darkness, and could barely see her own hands, let alone the man who was sitting close to her, behind the wooden construction keeping them apart. The scent of incense hung in the air, sticking to her like a second layer of skin, a reminder of their sacred surroundings.

“No, professor.” (Y/n) had been addressing him as “Professor” for the past days, not daring to use any other title, let alone his first name. But the second she used this very title to address him, (y/n) could tell that it would be the last time she’d call him that tonight, a shift was happening, something she was now taken over by. 

“It’s Priest Riddle to you.” The barely audible gasp clawing through (y/n) left him chuckling, followed by the sound of him shifting around on the bench, making himself comfortable as she grew more tense. “You sinned, you went against my rules. I must punish you for that, (y/n).”

“Punish me?” She hated that his words pushed excitement through her, forcing her to sit even straighter as if he could see her. Her fingertips began to tingle, her legs were quivering, unable to hold still as something she had only dreamt of slowly began to unfold right at that very moment. 

“Honesty will be the price of your foolishness, (y/n). I notice the way you look at me, how you seem to long for something you aren’t allowed to even reach for. Tell me, (y/n), what is it you so desperately seem to want?” Embarrassment flushed through her, followed by anger she couldn’t shake. How dare he ask something like this? How dare he try to embarrass her for a simple mistake? She should have left the confessional, stormed out of the church, and reported the man for overstepping. And yet she didn’t, already stuck in the trap he had laid out for her months ago.

“I don’t know.” It was the truth. She didn’t know what she wanted from him if she was merely longing for his touch, or if something even more desperate was guiding her on. She didn’t know if she wanted a simple taste, or to be swallowed wholly by him. She simply didn’t know. 

“How far are you willing to go, (y/n)?” Her mouth felt dry, unable to swallow as his words began to sink in. (Y/n) was grateful that he couldn’t see her, the way her pupils were dilated by the lust flushing through her, the goosebumps covering every visible part of her body as if she was engulfed by an icy wind. 

“Farther than I should.” A part of her expected him to break the spell they were now connected by, to pull her out of the confessional and scold her for giving in this easily. But the priest didn’t move, and neither did (y/n). 

“Spread your legs, I want you to touch yourself like I bet you keep imagining me doing.” With her heart in her throat, (y/n)’s hand disappeared beneath her skirt, slowly pushing her damp panties aside. A soft moan clawed through the student, grateful that the others had left the church hours ago. “Good girl, fuck yourself with your fingers.”

Another moan left (y/n) as she pushed two fingers into her tightness, spreading her walls as if she was preparing herself for his cock, desperate to take every inch. She kept moaning for him, choking on her sounds that grew heavier with every passing moment. 

“I can hear how wet you are, I bet you taste so sweet, like the forbidden fruit.” His words guided her on, ringing in her ears as if the Devil was calling for her, wandering through the darkness to reach his open arms, getting lost in his sweet promises. “I should imprint my palm on your skin for going against my rules. You promised you wouldn’t disappoint me, didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry.” Her needy whimpers left the priest chuckling, sounds that almost managed to drown out the ones clawing through (y/n). 

“I’m sure you are, (y/n). Stop touching yourself.” It pained her to pull her hand away, she had been close to giving in, ready to call out his name as her orgasm clashed through her, seconds before she could have reached paradise. The sounds of Priest Riddle leaving his side of the confessional echoed through the evening, followed by the sounds of him opening her side and stepping into the small space. 

She was pulled to her feet and tugged in for a kiss that left her moaning. (Y/n)’s arms found their way around Priest Riddle's neck, trying to pull the tall man even closer as if she were addicted to him. He broke the kiss to turn her around, pressing (y/n)’s front against the wooden wall separating both sides of the confessional. His ringed hands felt cold against her body as he shuffled her skirt up to her waist, letting her panties drop to the ground seconds later.

“I hope you prepared yourself enough for this punishment.” His ringed hand came down on her behind, forcing a yelp out of (y/n) who pressed herself further against the cold wood. Pain stretched itself through her, an unfamiliar kind of pain that made her ache for more. Once again, his palm met her warm skin, knowing that she’d struggle with sitting for the next few days. “I can’t wait to finally fuck you, make you pay for all these times I felt your eyes on me like a needy whore who doesn’t know when to stop.”

(Y/n) couldn’t protest, she couldn’t speak up to beg him for any kindness he wouldn’t offer. Only as she felt him pull away for a moment did (y/n) allow herself to breathe, blinking away the tears that had welled up in her eyes. 

“What do you want, (y/n)? And don’t feed me another lie. I want your honesty.” Chills ran down her spine at his dangerous tone, shaking through (y/n) like an earthquake set on ripping her off her feet. She had to deeply inhale, had to heavily swallow before she managed to put her longings into words, needing to break out of his trap. 

“I want your cock, fuck me, please, Priest Riddle.” A satisfied hum left the man, followed by the sounds of him ripping open a condom, prepared for his very punishment. It didn’t take long until she felt him at her entrance, slowly pushing into (y/n) with a heavy groan that dripped with need and lust clawing through him.

It felt as if they had been created for his moment only, bodies made to fit. 

“I should tell you to never sin again, to stay true to your promises. But you’ve turned me into a sinner as well, no promise could keep me from you any longer.” His words left her gasping, walls clenching around this twitching cock. He fucked her with urgency, set on proving to (y/n) and to himself that she was his, his to guide, his to punish. 

“You take my cock so well, I bet you dreamt of being fucked by me in a holy place, didn’t you?” His warm breath clashed against her tingling skin as he spoke his words, drawing a heavy sob out of (y/n) as she lost her grip on their surroundings. Tom’s hand moved like a snake, slithering back up to her throat to hold onto her, letting go of a raspy, “Speak when I ask you to.” 

“Yes, I did. I dreamt of it.” It was a simple reply, yet it was just enough to make the priest hum in approval. He twitched inside of her as he could tell that they both were ready to let go with their hearts pounding and their limbs aching. (Y/n) struggled to breathe on as he tightened his grip on her throat, forcing her head to rest against his broad chest. The priest stared down at (y/n), her lighthouse in the darkest nights, the burning bush to rely on. An anchor of safety. 

“Let go, (y/n), be honest once again.” She came with a gasp, with her eyes squeezed shut and her lips parted. A sight so ethereal, the priest followed her moments later, letting his teeth graze his lower lip to draw some blood. He pulled out of her all too quickly, to turn her back towards him with his bloody lip finding hers, “Now you’re truly mine, bound my blood.” 

And who was she to deny a sinner a wish this pure? At least it was on them to pray for Satan that night, since God no longer would pick up on their calls. 

[puffleyia]

Dear Diary || Cedric Diggory

Cedric Diggory x fem!reader || 5.2k words, fluff-ish, banter and awkward confessions !

Reader and Ced are both seventh years and Ced is head boy!

Warnings: slow and sappy smut, unprotected p-in-v, clothed sex , first times !!!

Summary: Cedric finds your diary, what's the worst that could happen?

---------

Cedric was idly perusing the shelves of the library on one fine afternoon, if the wads of homework given and expected to be completed by the end of the Easter holidays were not taken into account. He sought for some books that he could use as reference for his essay in History of Magic, a particularly tricky one, on famous and historical duels.

Though, his initial intentions were long forgotten as he noticed something. His attention was drawn to a small, forgotten notebook left on one of the study tables. He looked around to see if any sign of the owner was around. Once the coast was clear, he took it as a go-signal. Carefully, he picked it up with curiosity as he examined the notebook.

The cover was brown, its material being that of leather. It had a few tears, but it looked okay enough to be passed as a choice of style. It is decorated with intricate golden patterns on it, engraved with small jewels for design. The bottom was labelled with your name handwritten on, and the pages seemed to be slightly tarnished. He assumed you had kept it for a couple years or so. 

But what was most intriguing was that it had been padlocked shut. He figured out that it was no ordinary notebook, probably a diary of sorts, piquing his interest.

As much as he knows not to stick his nose in things he is not supposed to, he couldn’t help but feel interested in what was not supposed to be of his concern. He was not going to tell anyone what’s inside, nor was he going to judge— it is not like you would know either if he did look through it. 

But, he supposed a little peak would not hurt, right? He is going to give it back the next time he sees you, anyway. 

Though, it was locked… It is nothing a simple alohomora charm could not fix. He pulled out his wand and pointed it towards the lock. He gave it a flick, chanting the spell out quietly. The padlock fell on the floor with a dull thud. He picked it up and stuffed it in his pocket, to seal it up afterwards to conceal any trace of him ever snooping around.

He flipped through the pages, becoming increasingly fascinated with what he read, some even dating back to seven years. Family issues, random stuff about life at Hogwarts, such as rants about homework, housemates and whatnot. The first thirty pages was about you mainly figuring out things back then as a first year, and a bunch of things you were astonished to discover. 

It was really what your typical teenage girl would write; little things such as that cat you tried to pet in the first year that turned out to be Professor McGonagall, hallway crushes, that time you snuck in the restricted area of the library, so on— and the mundaneness of everyday life. It was pretty much a bunch of stuff about what goes on during your days. 

When he got to the fourth year, he started seeing his name being brought up occasionally— he of course, stopped on those pages to read them— interested in what your perspective on him was. He started with the first page mentioning him:

DEAR DIARY,

I met this guy named Cedric Diggory. He’s popular, tall and good-looking too.. 

He helped me out with my herbology homework. I was really struggling, good thing he stepped in. Though, maybe I was too busy staring at him to really pay attention to what he was teaching me. (Well, who can blame me???)

I know so many girls who would kill to have that happen to them. Wonder what got me so lucky today, maybe those Lumos Lucksweets I ate last night that I got from Honeydukes during Halloween.

I always thought he was cute, though I always felt too intimidated to approach him. Hopefully we can become friends. 

He felt a bit surprised, a faint blush tainting his cheeks as he smiled softly. He would be oblivious if he didn’t know he was sought after by both women and men, albeit it still doesn’t make him any less flustered.  You were one of his friends, yes, but he had never stopped to think that you thought of him in that way. You didn’t make it obvious either.

He mostly skimmed through its pages, but stopped to read whenever he saw his name brought up– about how you talked about each of your interactions; “Cedric helped me with…” “Cedric and I went out to…” “I think I like him..” Cedric this, Cedric that. 

You like him. Or liked him. It only clicked with him now, though he would have to keep reading if he wanted to know if you still felt the same. (Because he definitely did.) Be that as it may, he still definitely had no idea on how to confess. Plus, it was too late to turn back any time now. He continued to leaf through its contents.

But it was not until he got to last year’s pages that some things really stuck out. At first it was about wanting to kiss him on the cheek as you sat beside him in the library whilst you two studied for your transfiguration exam. Then the next time you talked about it being on the lips. 

You even went into detail how you thought his lips would feel, then it was about how you so badly wanted to make out with him after you watched him after his quidditch practice because in your words, not his–

He looked so hot.

The more he read through, the material written within progressively escalated. Soon, it was about how you felt guilty by using the thought of him as a means to get off. 

Now I feel guilty. Yes, I know– it is wrong of me to finger myself at the thought of my really really really hot friend who I also happen to have a crush on, no I’m not being sarcastic, yes, it was just once. Just this ONCE, I got carried away… Oh Merlin, I’m so sorry, Cedric.

He actually found it quite adorable how you were apologising in a diary. He was also extremely flustered at this point, a little bit horny and at the same time, confused. He nonetheless continued, reading several entries about how you admitted to having several fantasies of you being fucked by Cedric, what you think he would be like in bed, yada yada yada. 

You admit throughout several logs that what was supposed to be a one-time thing, turned into nightly endeavours filled with a big ounce of shame afterwards. 

Once he felt content, he got the padlock and clicked it back in place as if nothing ever happened, and took it with him as he went on his way. He figured it was best that he give it back the next time he ran into you. 

Aside from that, his day passed by quite like any ordinary one, though he hadn’t seen you at all. On his way down to the Great Hall, he caught a glimpse of you walking whilst talking to some of your friends– though you quickly disappeared into the crowd of students flocking towards the hall for dinner.

Afterwards, most students are headed towards the library or their respective common rooms, Cedric ought to do the same. 

Meanwhile you were searching every nook and cranny of everywhere you had been within the entire day, searching for that damned diary since the afternoon. You had traced back your steps to the beginning of the day, starting off with the common rooms, the great hall, then you had snuck into the several classrooms you were in earlier. In the potions dungeon, you were almost caught by Snape, you hid in time (you pride yourself on being an absolute pro at hide and seek) and just by the skin of your teeth.

You would stop at nothing until you actually find it, the thought of someone else getting your diary sends shivers down your spine. You just hope if someone did, they’d have enough of a sense of privacy and decency not to look through it. If this keeps up, You would have to be looking throughout the entire night and without being caught at that. 

You doubt any of the staff would actually care about finding it if you had simply asked. You had tried that once when you lost one of your textbooks, you managed to find it, no thanks to anyone but yourself.  And you would think if you would ask any of your professors, they’d probably say (the textbook) was miles more important than some journal with sentimental value.

Before you knew it, you were definitely up past curfew hours. Currently in the library, you were looking everywhere– on and under each of the chairs and tables, the shelves, you were seriously considering going to check the restricted section if you were not able to find it here. Perhaps the librarian thought it was a book, too. You froze in your place as you heard footsteps other than yours echoing as someone entered the library.

–

Cedric was doing his rounds and surprisingly, tonight was not that half-bad. No pesky students loitering around, so far that is. Currently surveying the corridors, classrooms– he is now heading towards the library, hearing faint shuffling noises coming from the sound of it. So it was not a quiet night after all, he thought. He placed his bets on who he thought it was this time, and the lot of students who regularly snuck out was not much to choose from anyway.

Though, he was completely wrong this time. It was you. He flashes you a grin, nearly forgetting his duties as Head Boy to supposedly escort you back to your dorm since it was late hour. He could also give your diary back while he was at it, he was getting tired of having to cling on to it just at the chance he would run into you. But he had thought to strike up a conversation first, because why not?

“Hey,” Cedric greeted you, approaching you slowly. “Hi,” you gulped and said awkwardly. You interrupt him before he could even say a word, “I-I know what this looks like,” you stammer, figuring out the right words to say as you try reasoning with him. “It sounds like a ridiculous thing to ask of you, I know– but don’t tell anyone,” as you speak, you’re also in plenty of disbelief that the literal head boy of all people would give you leeway for sneaking out like thi. Even if he is your friend, and even if it were just once.

“And why shouldn’t I?” He said so casually, as if you two were having a normal conversation; as if he were not on patrol at all and he hadn’t caught you outside your dormitory past the given curfew. He also knew damn well why, it was just fun eliciting a reaction from you. He was of course going to eventually give it back. “It’s so late, you should at least be in your common room around this time, you know?” He points out as well.

“Well, for one, I’ve been a good student this year, this is the only time I snuck out.. And, I have a reason for sneaking out–! It’s not for anything bad, I promise, it’s just I’ve been looking for my damn diary the entire day.. I must’ve lost it somewhere– look, I swear I’ll go back to the dorms right now if you please, please, don’t tell me out to anybody.” 

You begged him, clasping your hands together for dramatic effect as you gave him those puppy eyes you use whenever you wanted something from him. (Such as when you begged him to buy whatever you wanted when you two went to Zonko’s that one time. P.S. It worked.)

“You mean this thing?” he said slyly. As he pulled out your diary, he gave a look of mischievousness. He watched as your eyebrows raise up, a look of relief plastered on your face as you sigh. You walk towards him, extending out your arms as you make grabby hands. “Oh, yes! Yes, that’s the one, now if you could just give it back–” then, that’s when you get cut off. 

“Ah, ah, now wait just a moment,” he said, raising the arm with your diary in his hand so you couldn’t reach it. “I’ll let you off, and I’ll give it back if,” taking a deep breath before he spoke again, wondering if he should really be doing this. It was now or never. “You give me a kiss.”

He found it really amusing as a blush formed on your face, completely flustered as your eyes widened in a look with a mix of shock and disbelief. You had stopped grabbing for your diary, as you opened your mouth to say something, but you were rendered completely speechless. Was this just a dream? Surely it was, it was too good to be true…

“Ha, ha. Very funny, Cedric,” you fake-laugh, your tone being fully sarcastic. Seeing if he is just playing around with you. “No way in hell I would,” you add, just in case he really was joking. (Maybe you have slight trust issues.) “Just give it back.” Despite that, he looked dead serious. He stared you down, not breaking eye contact, making you gulp nervously. “Please?”

“Oh, come on,” he says as his voice drops, sounding more sultry. “I’m not gonna do anything unless you let me, but I know you want to.” His eyes observe your lips. As much as he wanted to, he didn’t touch you at all since you hadn’t given your consent yet. He kept his hands to himself, letting his body language do the talking. 

“Now what makes you say that?” You squint your eyes as you give a questioning look at him, acting, or trying to at least, unaffected. You still had your guard up, because seriously, what was up with this guy today? 

“Now, why’re you acting like you don’t want it? Hmm?” He smirked, “Could make all those fantasies of yours in that little book come true, you know.”

You looked mortified, as if you had seen a ghost. The last bits of your dignity withered away, long gone at this point. You wanted to shrivel up and sob in a corner out of pure humiliation. He read your diary. “No way, you read it!?” You slap his arm as you cover your face in sheer embarrassment. “Privacy exists, you know–!” Cedric let out a guttural laugh, unable consistently to keep up his flirty demeanour. “Hey, better me than anyone else, right? Besides,” he leaned on one of the bookshelves.

“I like you.”

If you thought you couldn’t get any redder, you were awfully wrong. You didn’t know what to say, as you practically threw yourself at him in an embrace. “I like you too…” you said, your voice muffled as your face was buried in his chest. “This is so embarrassing.”

He wasted no time in hugging you back, his arms wrapped around you. It was like you put on a warm blanket. You two stayed like that for a while, enjoying eachothers company. The moment of silence was interrupted as he said, “I should probably ask properly.” You look up at him, waiting for what he has to say. “Will you be my girlfriend?” He finally says.

“What do you think?” A rhetorical question.

“I need a yes or no, not a ‘what do you think’.”

“If you actually read my diary, you already have your answer.”

“Well then, it’s official,” he smiles. “Can I get that kiss now?” He says impatiently. You waste no time, tipping on your toes as you press your lips against his, placing your hands on his broad shoulders. He wraps his hands around your waist, pushing you softly against a bookcase. It was chaste and passionate, as your lips intertwined as you two kissed in a slow rhythm. 

You pull away, catching your breath. “By the way, this doesn’t mean I forgive you for reading my diary,” you blurt out, Cedric chuckling at that.

Before you knew it, he was grabbing your wrist and leading you to his dorm room. It was clear to the both of you where this situation was going. As you walked together, your heart raced in anticipation, a mix of excitement and nervousness flooded your senses. You both stopped in your tracks as you reached a portrait, that of Helena Ravenclaw’s. He mumbled the password and the portrait swung open, walking in whilst ducking his head over the small entrance and motioning you to come in as well. 

You assumed this was the heads’ common room, it was circular and decorated quite lavishly. If it were not for Cedric, you would have taken more time to admire the interior. It was definitely plenty grand compared to the regular ones. Though, you quickly were grounded back into the situation as he led you to his dorm– Head Boy’s–completely away from prying eyes. Oh, bless Cedric for being head boy and whoever decided that heads should have their own room. 

He slams the door shut behind you two, pinning you to it. Tension flooded the room, it was practically suffocating. He wastes no time, cupping your chin as he tilts your head slightly upward to make you look at him. He leaned in for a second kiss, your lips puzzle together once more. His hand interlocked with yours tightly as he held it up against the door panel, keeping you in place. 

It was not as innocent as it was the first time, in fact quite the opposite– amorous. It was far from perfect, given both of you were not experienced. All your knowledge came from things such as muggle films, you think.

You remembered how they opened their mouths slightly, imitating what you saw in fiction. You slowly gaped open your mouth, Cedric immediately getting the hint as he slid his tongue inside. You both attempted to swirl each other's tongues together, yet it was more clashing your tongues together with no rhythm whatsoever, in hoping something just works. Though it didn't make it any less hot, if anything, it was more.

It was awfully sappier than one would might like, but you two were both (not-so hopeless anymore) romantics. Perhaps it was the entire three years of obliviousness and pining for each other being poured into this moment. Though, given what you two are about to do, it is a bit fast for an official relationship. Well, yeah, as much as you just got together.. You both couldn’t help it nor wait anymore, not wanting to waste any more time, not after so many years with your feelings going unsaid. 

He took heavier breaths, grabbing ahold of your waist as he pressed himself closer against you. You both flushed, a bit embarrassed and nervousness surging through your veins as you gasped when his half-chubbed dick pressed against just above your groin. You couldn’t deny– you felt scared, a bit hesitant but you knew you wanted this more than anything. 

While you still kissed, you both toed off your shoes and made a beeline for the bed (a sad attempt). Because your senses of navigation clearly dwindled, not a care in the world but each other. You two accidentally bumped into one of the small tables, knocking down some of the books that lay on them. “Oops,” Cedric said lightheartedly. Pulling the both of you out of the moment momentarily, you two laughed and just chalked it up to fixing it later.

Finally reaching the four-poster (which was a lot bigger than the regular ones), even if it were a few feet away from where you two initially were, it was quite the journey. Cedric, who was the one leading out of the two of you, practically tripped you both into bed as he rested atop you. “Ced!” You squealed, “you’re crushing me!” light-heartedly, you say, as you jab at his chest playfully, in an attempt to push him off. 

“Well..not my problem, princess,” he laughed as he buried his face into your neck. Sucking and nipping at the flesh, leaving red marks on you as he placed a kiss on each one to seal them afterwards. “May I…?” He says, his hand trailing up to grab onto the hem of your tie, ready to pull it off. You give him a small, silent nod. He takes his time with you, as if he were unwrapping a huge present. 

He begins by pulling off your tie, discarding the article of clothing to a random corner of the room. The same goes for your robes, sweater, dress shirt…all long gone and forgotten. You were merely left with your undergarments and skirt on, as well as your socks. He stops dead in his tracks, taking a step back as he takes the sight of you in.

“I forgot to tell you how beautiful you are.” He says each word clear as day– you’ve never heard anyone more confident in your life. You blush profusely, hands covering your face to conceal it. “I’ll die from those compliments before you actually start doing anything, you know?” You babble, too florid to think of words to form. 

He trails his hand, leading it down to your underwear, tugging down at the hem of it as to pull them off. “Sorry, sorry,” he says, though not a hint of apology in his voice. You mutter something about him not being forgiven, ouch, so now he has two things he is yet to be forgiven for. He just smiles innocently back at you, lips all pouty as you pretend to sulk about it. (Obviously jokingly) When in fact, you wallow in the praise.

He leans into your ear as his hands now teasing at your folds, you let out a soft moan at his touch. “Guess I’ll have to make it up to you, huh?” He says in a low, gravelly voice. Which had absolutely no right to sound that hot. “Please, Ced,” you say, trying not to sound like you were begging for it. “Wait,” he stops, getting up and begins to rummage through his drawer, looking for something. You look at him quizzically, wondering what he is doing and looking slightly disappointed at the loss of sensation.

After a few more seconds, he pulls out a small vial of a clear flaxen liquid and examines it before walking back to you. “Um, I’m really sorry, d’you think this’ll do?” He shows you the vial, which you had assumed to be a natural oil of sorts. “I, er, don’t have any lube.” He says awkwardly. “I mean, if you’re not comfortable we don’t have to–” You cut him off immediately, quickly divulging that, “No, no, we– we can. I’m fine with it.” Okay, you definitely sounded a bit desperate. He nods, uncorking the vial as he coats his fingers with a fair amount.

“I’ve never done this before,” he says, prodding two fingers at your pussy. “Just– just tell me if it hurts, okay? Tap my shoulder two times if you can’t speak.” You nod, and with that, he eases in slowly his fingers, your breath hitching as you feel his fingers slip inside you. It feels uncomfortable, causing you to shift in your position slightly. Cedric quickly stops inching his fingers inside as he asks if you’re okay. You tell him that you’re fine and to keep going, assuring yourself and him that it is normal. Hopefully you’ll get used to the feeling. 

He continues, eventually now fully inside you. “Let me know when, um, I can move them, okay?” He says caringly, not an inch of attention wavering away from you. After a bit, you give him the go-signal to move and he starts dragging his fingers out of you, albeit slowly, and pushing them back inside. He watches you attentively, carefully studying your expressions, your body language– His erection was straining against his pants at this point, begging to be freed, but of course he wanted to make sure you were thoroughly prepared. 

“Ah, Ced, mhh, maybe if you curl your fingers a–ah bit–” you moan, still feeling a slight discomfort and pain, though pleasure slowly seeps through. “Like this?” He says, as he curls his fingers inside you, moving in and out with languid strokes. You let out a particular wince, though you nodded in approval. “Yes, just like that– ah,”

It was not anything you were not used to, though you always felt guilty whenever you did such things to yourself. Especially if your only barrier to privacy is the curtains on your four-poster. Though it took a bit of adjusting, because Cedric’s fingers were no doubt bigger than yours. You feel your stomach curling, the feeling of release catching on to you. Cedric must have had a sixth sense, or really good observational skills (perhaps all that astronomy paid off.) because he pulled his fingers out of you the moment you were about to. You whine instinctively in response.

Before you knew it, he was getting rid of his sweater, taking off his tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt, tossing the apparel in the same corner where your clothes went, though leaving his unbuttoned shirt on. You watched his every movement intently, feeling yourself getting wet at the sight of him undressing. He is tall, lean, and burly– has a good build from all that quidditch. Amen for that. 

Your eyes begin to linger down to his trousers, and a very obvious bulge that you can’t help but stare at. He continues by unzipping his fly, though not pulling down his pants. He tugged at his grey boxers just enough to release his cock from its confines, coating it with a light layer of the oil he had used earlier. You could not help but stare, your pupils dilated, clouding your eyes darkly with arousal. He crawls in between your legs as he now hovers atop you. He aligned his cock, tip pressing into the folds of your pussy. 

“M’nervous,” you mumble, almost nonsensically, though Cedric understood what you had tried to say. He leans in, placing a kiss on your forehead as he gently caresses your cheek, “If you’re feeling pressured, we don’t have to, y’know. We can just… Stop here, we can continue another time if you’d like, when you’re ready.” He says softly, warmth naturally oozing through his voice like honey, sweet and assuring. 

“No,” you say, quiet but firmly. “I want to.” 

“Then we will, just tell me when you’re ready. I’ll be gentle.” He says, and his words make all your worries slowly ebb away. You feel safe with Cedric. You press your hips down onto his dick ever so slightly, letting the tip slide in. You gasp at the foreign feeling, nervous to fully take it all in. He notices, and as well lets out a soft moan, asking if he has permission to continue. You breathily say a yes, and that’s when he unhurriedly starts to push inside you.

It feels completely new, slightly painful with a twinge of pleasure. You shut your eyes, wincing at the sensation. Cedric examines your expressions as he inches in, checking for any signs of discomfort. He stops for a moment to ask if you’re okay, noticing your brows knitting together with your eyes shut. You assure him you’re fine, and tell him to keep going.

Eventually, he bottoms out inside you, though he doesn’t move immediately. You two just sit there for a good minute or two, kissing softly as your lips move in unison. Pulling away, panting as you say, “m-move, please,”

And who is Cedric to deny you of that? He began moving his hips slowly and shallowly, not wanting you to take too much at once. You also started getting a bit used to the feeling, though it was still mostly new to you. It didn’t feel as painful as it did, moaning in pleasure as he moved his hips. 

He then pulled out his cock, teasing you, and easing back in steadily, causing you to moan wantonly out loud. His thrusts still slow, but begin to get deeper as he holds your legs open. He was vocal too, nothing short of chanting your name and praising you in a gravelly voice, groaning and grunting ruggedly as he fucked his cock far into you. 

“You’re such a good girl f’me,” he pants, both of you moaning as he rocked his dick back into you with a particularly deep thrust. While the discomfort still remained, you grew more accustomed to the feeling of gratification that grew increasingly.“Ha– ah, harder, Ced,” you say, gasping in between your words. He did nothing shy of it, but not anything that he felt like would be too much for you.

“Merlin, y’feel so good,” he says huskily, moving his hips rhythmically slow, hard and deep as you’re reduced into a moaning mess. Your arms flail to the side of your head, grasping on the sheets as you arch your back. You were mumbling nonsensically, and Cedric laughed breathily as he told you how cute you were. He could only barely make out what seemed to be an I love you. “I love you too, princess,” he groans as he leans in and leaves a few more marks on your collarbone and neck.

You splay your hands onto his back. Digging your nails into his skin, leaving marks of your own though unintentionally. You drag your nails down his broad back, grabbing onto him as he knocks the wind out of you with each thrust.

You feel a fire pooling low in your abdomen, as well as the heightening sense of arousal as Cedric kept thrusting inside you. You feel your pussy tighten around him, “Mmh, Ced, I think I’m gonna–!” You squeal, Cedric grabs your hips and quickened his pace by a bit. “Go on, sweetheart.” He says low, letting his breath into your ear, moving down to kiss your neck. Reaching your limit, you feel your orgasm ripple through you.

Cedric kept going, though you could tell he was close, too– his thrusts growing sloppy as the echo of skin to skin and moans  from the both of you filled the room. His hips jerked a few more times as he finally sheathed fully and deep into you, as you two let out a long, drawn out moan as he was spilling his load inside your pussy. 

Clenching around his cock greedily, it’s as if you were going to wring him dry. You feel the way his cock pulses as he cums in you, a white ring pooling around the base of his cock with your mixed juices as it trickles down your folds. 

He collapses atop you, letting his head rest between your breasts as he’s still inside you. You two lay like that for a while, basking in the silence of the afterglow. You suddenly interrupt as you say, “Okay, maybe I forgive you..” 

He smiles and scoffs at that. Eventually, he pulls out and lays beside you, cuddling you from behind as you two exchange ‘I love you’s’ as you two drift off into sleep.

[samandcolbyownme]

This one shot will include a teacher!Reader x student relationship. Just move along if it’s not for you.

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, reader is a few years older than Chris, heavy flirting, tension, angsty, kissing, hair pulling, slightly rough actions, biting, scratching, oral (both), unprotected sex, general filth

Word Count: 2.9k | unedited

——

It was hard being a young professor at the university.

Always having to deter guys away from flirting with you. Having to ignore comments that are made towards you. The other, older professors trying to make passes while meeting with you one on one so you can answer their ‘questions’.

You just got used to it, constantly going through the motions as each day passed. Eventually, it became like muscle memory.

Until one day, one student changes everything for you.

You had no control over the feelings that had creeped in. No control over the smile that you fought so hard to keep off of your face each time you made eye contact with him, and it grew harder and harder by the days.

It also doesn’t help that he makes sure to get there early to grab the seat right up front in the middle.

Every. Single. Day.

“I expect to see the homework I’m assigning, done and on my desk tomorrow morning.” You look around, “It’s easy work, seriously.”

The class chuckles and you glance at Chris who’s looking down on his phone, “Something important Mr. Sturniolo?” You walk around the front of your desk and lean against it.

“No, not really.” He smirks and you nod slowly, “Mm, alright then.” You rest your hands on the desk beside you, “I guess that is it for today. I will, hopefully, see you all tomorrow.”

You turn around, dragging the strewn papers across your desk into a pile.

It didn’t take long for the room to empty out, or so you thought it was empty.

“Ms. Y/l/n.”

You turn around, laughing slightly, “Chris, this is college. You don’t have to-“

“I like it.” He shrugs, his peaking out to run along his bottom lip, “I was just wondering if I could get some extra help?”

You smirk, “Chris, your grade are.. perfect. What help do you need?”

His eyes glide down your body as he thinks of something quick, “I, um. The essay.” You raise your brows and tilt your head, “I’m going to let you in on a little secret, okay.”

You motion with your finger for him to come closer, and he walks towards you, “Yes, Ms. Y/l/n?”

You lean in, “There’s this magical place called a library. Full of books and knowledge. All you have to do is pick one under the genre of your choosing, and write something based on that book.”

He smiles and good god, you feel your knees wiggle.

“Right, right.” He steps back, “Just thought I’d give it a try.” He walks back to his seat and grabs his bag, “See you tomorrow.”

As he walks up the steps, you sigh, “Chris, wait.”

He stops, turning around on his heel, “Yes?”

“If you pick a book today, I’ll go over it with you tomorrow after class.” You watch as he nods, fighting back a smirk, “Thank you.”

“Mhm.” You nod and watch as he leaves, letting out a sigh before turning to gather the rest of your things.

——

The rest of the night you kept thinking about the interaction between you and your student, knowing damn well what he was doing.

And you were letting it happen.

The next day in class, Chris decided to wear his glasses, which only made it harder for you to give your attention to the other students, focus on what you’re trying to teach even though it was projected onto the big screen behind you.

“Before, I click to the next slide, who can tell me how the black plague was spread, bonus if you can tell me how many people were affected.”

You look around, “anyone?”

You see Chris raise his hand and you motion, “I’m going to say, rats.”

You nod, “You would be correct. Rats played a massive part in killing..” you shrug, “How many people?”

“A lot.” Chris answers, earning laughs from the class.

“I mean, you’re not wrong, but I’m looking for a number.” You laugh slightly, “Or a rough estimate I should say.”

Another person raises the hand and you point, “Yes, Jay.”

“Over a few million.”

You nod, “Close.” You turn around clicking to the next slide, “Over seventy five million people were affected and died by the plague.”

The day goes on and soon enough, it’s just you and Chris.

“Did you find a book?” You ask as you sit down at your desk. He sits down on the other side of your desk and shuffles through his bag, “I did, I just have to- ah ha.”

He pulls out the book and lays it on the desk, “Here it is.” He slides it over and you reach out, your hand brushing along his.

You glance up, his eyes already on you and you smile, “Good book.”

“You’ve read it before?” He tilts his head, reaching up to push up his glasses and you nod, “I sure have.”

There was tension. Obvious, tension.

You knew it was wrong.

You knew you shouldn’t be doing this, feeling like this.

But trouble has never looked so fine.

“Chris.” You laugh slightly, “What are you doing here? I don’t think you need any help.” He leans back, arms rested on the chair, “What do you mean?”

“What I mean is..” you take a deep breath, “I don’t think you’ve cracked this book open enough to need help.”

He smirks, “Yeah, I haven’t even opened it.”

You laugh, “So.. what you can do..” you lean forward, pulling off a sticky note, “crack open the book, and if you need any help..”

You press the note with your number on it down onto the book, “Text me.”

He bites his lip and nods, “Thank you.”

You nod, “Anytime.”

He shoves the book back into his back and leaves, leaving you to sit and wonder along in the silence.

Later that night, as you’re settled down onto your couch, reading one of your favorite books, your phone goes off.

You smirk before you reach forward, your face dropping in disappointment when you see it’s another coworker trying to get you to say yes to a date.

You ignore it, swiping it away from your screen.

As you go to set your phone back down, an unsaved number pops up.

Hello Ms. Y/l/n. It’s Chris.

You bite your lip, pulling your phone towards you and resting your hands on your book as you type.

What can I help you with, Chris?

You save his contact and by the time you’re done, he’s already responded.

I cracked open this book, just like you said to do.

You bite your lip, taking a deep breath.

Can you wait until after class on Monday?

You chew your thumb nail anxiously, “No, no.” You shake your head, typing up another text, but you stop when Chris’s text comes through.

I really don’t think I can wait any longer, Ms. Y/l/n.

I could really use the help tonight if you’re available.

Your breath is shaky, you knew what you wanted to say, but also knew that if you did that, you’re not only putting yourself at risk, but Chris, too.

Before you could even think, you texted him your address.

Make sure one know sees you come up.

You stand up, pacing back and forth, “shit, shit. This is actually happening.” You quickly move to start picking up your apartment. It was already clean, but you couldn’t help but feel the need to keep your mind occupied until you got that text.

Soon enough, your phone goes off.

I’m here, on my way up.

You walk over to the door, looking out of the peep hole until you see him. You open your door and he walks right in.

You could tell he wasn’t here to go over his book, or have any of his school questions answered. He didn’t even have his backpack.

“Thanks for inviting me over.” He smiles and looks around, “Nice place.”

“Thank you, Chris.” You smile and flip the lock on your door, “So what can I do for you?”

He takes a deep breath, smirking as he motions to you, “It’s weird seeing you in sweatpants and a tee shirt. You’re usually dressed up.”

You laugh slightly, glancing down, “I change into them as soon as I get home from teaching.”

“I like it when you dress up. You always look so pretty.” Chris steps towards you, “But there’s just something about the coffee stain on your sweats that make this even better.”

“Oh gosh, I didn’t even-“

Your words are cut short by Chris quickly closing the space between the two of you with his lips on yours.

You kiss him back until you push your hands on his chest, “We shouldn’t be doing this.” Chris licks his lips, giving you a shrug, “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

He closes the space again and slides his hands down to your hips, “I promise.”

You slide your hands to his neck, tilting your head to the side as his lips move down yours, “Fuck.” You breathe out, “You are such a bad idea.”

He leans back, shaking his head slightly, “You don’t like bad ideas?”

You let out a sigh, “I like bad ideas. Just, only when they look like you.” You re-close the space, pushing him to walk back towards the couch.

He sits down, pulling you into his lap. His hands slide back to your ass as you kiss down his neck.

“Fuck.” Chris groans out as you grind down onto him, his grip on your ass tightening, “Roll over.” You oblige, rolling over to lay on the couch on your back.

Chris slips out from under your legs and takes off his sweatshirt, tossing it to the floor before his white tank disappears from his body, too.

He drops down to his knees, leaning over the couch as he slips his fingers into the bands of your panties and sweatpants, “when I zone out in class…” Chris pulls them down, kissing the newly exposed skin, “I think about you, sitting on your desk, with your legs over my shoulders.”

You gasp, reaching down to slide your hand into his hair, your fingers tangle his hair around them, “Fuck.”

He pulls the clothing over your feet and drops them, pushing your one leg towards the back of the couch, “You just look so fucking sexy in those skirts you wear, Ms. Y/l/n.”

“You can use my first name, Chris.” You glance down at him and he reaches up to take off his glasses, “I’ll call you, whatever you want, ma.”

He leans in, ripping moans from your lips as his tongue glides up your core to your clit. His tongue flicks against it a few times before wrapping his lips around it to suck.

“Fuck, fuck. Yes.” You arch your back, the heel of your foot digging into his upper back, “Feels so.. good!”

He groans against you, his tongue dragging back down to slip into your aching hole. You groan, tugging on his hair as he earns louder moans from you.

His hands grip your hips, moaning against you as he slides one over to press his fingers onto your clit and rubs slowly.

“Fuck, fuck, yes yes yes.” You pant, gasping out as clench around his tongue. You pull him up, leaning forward to kiss him as he positions himself between your knees.

You moan at the taste of yourself on his lips, your hands sliding down and dragging your nails back up his back.

He groans into your mouth and reaches down to push his sweats down. You spread your legs more and he looks down to line his cock up with you.

You watch as the tip of his cock slips in and your eyes roll back, your head falling back as he slides in the rest of the way.

His hand cups your cheek while his other holds his weight up, “Fuck, ma.” He kisses up and down your neck, “you feel so good around me.”

You moan at his words, moaning loudly as he starts to thrust. Your nails dig into his shoulders and you tug his hair at the nape of his neck with the other.

He groans, “Fuck, fuck.”

You tighten your legs around his waist, arching your back, “Fuck, I’m g-“ you moan, “I’m so close.”

He brushes hair from your face, his head handing down to rest against yours. Your moans mix together and you gasp, clenching his cock like your life depends on it, “Yesyesyes.”

You create more red lines on his back, “Chris, Chris.” You pant out, “Fuck, yes.”

You come undone around him, whimpering out as he guides you through your high, “You look so pretty when you’re a mess under me.”

His lips connect with yours and his thrusts pick up, moaning into your mouth as he slides his hand up to your neck, squeezing slightly as he leans his head back, “I want you to ride me.”

You nod, sitting up as he move to sit down. You take off your shirt, revealing your bare chest to him, and you straddle him.

He bites his lip as he rests his head back, his hands tight in your waist as you sink back down onto his cock with a moan.

“Fuck, ma.” He slides his hands up to squeeze and knead your boobs, “You’re so hot.”

He leans in and you lean in, your lips connected in a heated make out. Your hands slide to his cheeks, cupping them as you bounce up and down.

His hands slide back down your sides and he lays his head back again. You kiss down his neck, biting and sucking a small mark into his skin, “You’re so hot.”

He groans at your words, bucking his hips up with a grunt, “Shit, ma. Gonna make me cum.”

“That’s the goal, right?” You smirk, head tilting back as you sink all the way down, “Fuck, you feel so good.”

You drag your nails down his chest, whining out as you start bouncing again.

He thrusts his hips up again, moaning as his arm slides around your waist, “Just like that, baby. Just..” he groans, bucking his hips upward, “Like that..”

He leans in, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. You moan as his tongue flicks against it, your hands tangling in his hair, “Fuck, Chris.”

You tilt his head up, crashing your lips onto his.

“I’m close, baby.” He warns, “Where do you want me?”

“Let me off and I’ll show you.”

His grip releases from your body and you bounce a few more times before quickly moving to your knees on the floor.

You waste no time in leaning forward and sucking on the tip of his cock. Your hand pumping what isn’t in your mouth.

You take more of him in, bobbing your head as your hand twists with ease from the slick on his cock.

He pants, whimpering out as he places a hand on the back of your head, “Fuck, fuck.” He throws his head back, bucking his hips as you feel him twitch within your grasp.

You swallow his cum, groaning lowly as you lick around to clean his cock.

You lean back, breathing heavy as you slide your hands down his thigh. He tilts his head up, his chest rapidly rising and falling, “I’ve always wanted to fuck a teacher.”

You laugh as you reach over to grab your shirt, “Have you?”

You toss him his shirt and he gives you a funny look.

“What?” You ask as you slip your shirt on over your head. Chris shakes his head, “Nothing, I just..” he chuckles slightly, “Didn’t think this was going to be a one and done thing, you know?”

You stand up, moving to slip on your sweats, “I don’t remember telling you that.”

He looks up at you with a smirk, “You didn’t.”

“Hmm. Guess that’s a good thing then right?” You sit down next to him and he lifts his hips to pull his sweats up, “I would say so.”

You turn towards him and sigh, “No one can know about this, Chris. You know that right?” He nods, “Why would I want something like this ruined?”

He reaches over, tucking hair behind your ear, “I plan on keeping you all to myself, Ms. Y/l/n.”

——

Thank you so much for reading. I love you all so much! See you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[lucimaaie]

we pt3 ✧.* tlou

pairing - santa barbara!ellie x reader

summary - you and ellie hit the road.

a/n - this one got more angst yall, also between this and my essay my hands hurt, anyway enjoy

part 1, part 2

the two of you had packed up relatively quickly and set out the next morning. it took a while to get used to traveling again, this time not alone and with a more productive goal than revenge.

ellie had taken it upon herself to carry most of the things you’d agreed to bring. the rifle, the backpack full of relatively good clothes you shared, and the food supply.

the first few weeks had been cruel, hiking in the snow with only a few layers of clothes. as you moved through the states, it was clear it was getting hotter and though ellie was happy for the change, she wasn’t prepared.

“i told you it was hot.” you giggled as you watched ellie dip her hands into the lukewarm water and dab it on her arms and chest. you’d be lying if you said the sight was nothing special. you watched her with attentive eyes as you sat down next to lake. “gonna share?”

ellie glared at you. “what you want me to dunk you in, because i will.” she busied herself with taking off your shows. she couldn’t help but frown when she saw how bruised your feet were. you’d need real rest soon. she rolled up your pants and moved your feet into the water. “that hurt?”

“it’s okay.”

ellie got her answer by the way your nose scrunched up at the feeling of the water surrounding your feet. it probably hadn’t been the best option, considering the water wasn’t exactly cold. “we gotta you some new shoes soon, peach.” she set your shoes the side, briefly surveying the state of hers. “could take mine until then.” she mumbled.

“they’re fine.” you said as you swung your feet in the water.

ellie sighed deeply, looking at your reflection in the water. this was risky, setting out with limited surprise without a destination in mind. she grabbed the map from the front pocket of her backpack. she unfolded the map and laid it on her lap. “think this is south enough?”

“hm,” you looked over the map, seeing where she’d marked where you were now: somewhere in colorado. “not quite south yet. unless this is good?”

“think it still gets crazy cold here in the winter.” she leaned back on her hands, looking at how focused you were. you were so dedicated to making sure she was happy. or as happy as she could be all things considered. she gently grabbed the map from your hands and tucked the folded paper into her shoes. without another word, she crouched next to you, took your foot into her hands and pressed her thumbs into the center of it.

“you don’t have to-“ you sighed breathily. “do that.”

“peach.” it was meant to come out firm, but the word was gentle. “lemme do this.” she pressed her thumbs harder, moving them in slow circles into the skin. this was good for now.

another few weeks later, ellie and you had shed the heavy jackets in the day and snuggled up under them at night. ellie had fussed over you more and more over the time, always feeding you first, giving you the first sip of water, all of it. she’d like to say it was simply because you were traveling across country into a completely different climate but that was only part of it. you were hers, officially. it was her job to do all this, to be close to you.

ellie let herself be excited, even though it was terrifying. everything was new and she could lose you at any moment, but that's not what she wanted to think about. as the night fell, she was excited about star filled sky every day. she mumbled something about stargazing but she didn't expect you to make a pallet out of your old coats and pat the spot next to you.

"we should be sleeping." she said off-handledly as if she hadn't immediately snuggled into you. she stared at you in the moonlight for a while before you pushed your her face up to the stars.

"look at them, not me." your little laugh was honey next to her ear.

"what? you're making it hard. not my fault." she wrapped her arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer. if that was even possible.

the sound of crickets (or cicadas, she couldn’t tell) filled the silence for a few minutes. ellie was calm as she breathed in the earthy scent of you. “i wish i had a book that told me the names of all these things.” she looked at the stars, enamored with them. “i kept looking for one back in jackson, but nothing.”

“jackson?” you questioned, craning your neck up to look at her.

ellie blinked as she realized she’d slipped. it wasn’t a secret she was adamant on hiding anymore, just a detail she hadn’t mentioned yet. it was her a part of her past, but one of the good parts. maybe..maybe she could tell you this. “i lived there before.” she looked down at you.

“didn’t know that.” you said, ever so curious as always. “what was it like?”

“safe.” was the first first out her mouth. it had been safe at some point, that wasn’t a lie. “almost normal. lot of people. beds, water, electricity.”

“sounds homey.” you briefly glanced at the sky as you tried to imagine something so normal. a neighborhood. the thought seemed foreign compared to your nomadic childhood.

“it was home.” she laid on her side, her forehead gently touching yours. she shivered slightly at the cool breeze that passed. her lips quirked up when you rubbed up and down her arm, thankful for your touch more than the warmth.

“do you miss it?”

“sometimes.” ellie said quietly. she wasn’t exactly into the conversation. the comfort between your touch and voice had her relaxed enough to confront her sleepiness. the fear of a nightmare wasn’t completely gone but knowing you would be there allowed her to tuck her head between yours and close her eyes.

ellie should’ve known the hours of comfort she’d experienced had to come at some price. she flinched as she heard the familiar screech of a clicker. she could barely keep the anxiety out her voice as she shook you awake. "c'mon, wake up." she said in a hushed tone.

you were slow to wake up but as soon as you heard those sounds you shot up as her. she pulled the blankets from underneath you and bunched them in her arm before swinging her backpack over her shoulder. her chest rose and fell quickly as she watched you gather the rest of your belongings and catch up with her.

her hand found yours as she kept her hand on a swivel. there was an overlap, signaling there were two maybe three, hopefully not four. she squeezed your hand as she pulled you behind her. you couldn't run but you couldn't stay here either and splitting up was never an option. "step back," she mouthed, hoping the moonlight helped you at least to understand.

you stepped back slowly, disappearing into the trees. ellie cringed as you stepped on a thin branch, the sound of it snapping bringing attention to you. a clicker nearby let out a feral roar and came rushing towards you. "run." she turned to you.

"what? no-" the sleepiness in your eyes was long gone and replaced with pure fear.

"i'm not asking, go." ellie grabbed her gun from her hip. you glanced down at her hand and looked at her incredulously. she looked at you with something more stony than she'd ever look at you. like she was getting ready to lose you.

"no, that's stupid. you can't do that, el-" you tried to pry it from her hands but she was stronger. you patted your pockets for anything that would help, but nothing. finally, you remembered a pair of scissors you'd found earlier and dug them out ellie's backpack.

ellie tried to push you off but the clicker had already arrived, drawn to your shushed argument. you stabbed it right in it's neck, wedging it through the skin for good measure. it was dying, but not fast enough. it had almost gotten one good bite in before ellie fired a quick shot right in it's face. you looked back at her meeting her panicked eyes with the same fear. there was no hesitation in taking her hand and making a run for it.

everything seemed to blur as you held onto ellie's hand like your life depended on it. you hadn't even seen her pick up anything to throw but the clinking sound against a tree gave you enough time to sneak past the hungry things. ellie held you close to her as you hid behind a crashed car as if they could see you. there was a sliver of relief as the clickers got their sights set on elsewhere. ellie's grip hadn't loosened on you as tears fell down her cheeks, the stress hitting her all at once.

"hey." you patted her arm up to her hand, squeezing as tight as you could without hurting her. "oh ellie, baby-" hearing your voice seemed to help but she was still shaken as she checked your arms for bites. her eyes were too glossy to see the look on your face but she didn't care. she cupped your face, leaning her forehead against yours as she tried to keep her breathing normal and quiet. "i thought you-" she cut herself off with a stuttered intake of breath. "i'm okay, i'm here. w-we gotta go, alright?" you brought your shaky hands up to push back her hair. she nodded, letting you guide her to hopefully some place safer for the night.

thank you for reading!

[matcha-dango]

Unsafe Escort

Yan!Bodyguard!Cyno x Student!F!Reader [NSFW]

CW : yandere themes / smut / noncon / somnophilia / drugging / power imbalance / oral / gaslighting / dom character x sub reader

Word Count : 2418

As Akademiya students often had to be in dangerous places to conduct their research, some with enough mora hired Eremites to provide them with protection, especially in the desert. You, however, had been assigned to a task that must be performed efficiently within a short time period, if you didn't want to suffer the consequences of the Darshan's wrath. The mission was far too important for the Akademiya, they couldn't take any risks of it failing. Which is why they assigned to you the General Mahamatra, Cyno himself. 

During your journey from the gates of the Akademiya to Caravan Ribat, you explained to Cyno the mission, with the academic details he wasn't privy to. Obviously, he knew his job was of the highest importance and what he was supposed to do, but the higher ups didn't think it was necessary to give him the piles of essays needed to fully understand the project.

Cyno when in his 'work mode' might be the scariest but that didn't mean he couldn't relax or simply be nice and polite. In a way, you were his employer and on top of that, you sounded really passionate about your mission. A research project under a Darshan was meant to be heavily impactful, it definitely was an honour to participate in it and be partially credited for contributing, even if it was for a single page.

Nonetheless, this mission was very dangerous. The desert wasn't merciful to those who weren't prepared, blinding sun during the day followed by freezing winds at night. Even if you did get all the required equipment, there still were hoards of hilichurls, giant scorpions but also ill-willed humans, such as Treasure Hoarders and Eremites. Needless to say, no one could survive a trip to the desert alone if they were to be a regular person.

Which is why you were so thankful to Cyno and you did your best to let him know. 

After spending the night at Caravan Ribat, you two left with all necessary tools and plenty of food, making sure to absolutely not forget water. You talked about renting a sumptuous beast but eventually decided against it, as you didn't know how long exactly it would take to complete your task once you get to the final destination. Your budget wasn't unlimited so you couldn't take the risk. Plus, getting to King Deshret's Mausoleum wasn't that far away so it wasn't going to take weeks. 

Unfortunately, it would take a few days. So while walking through the desert, you observed its golden hues while chatting about your part in the project. Even though Cyno remained quiet most of the time, he still gave you insights and information you were grateful to hear, you had the feeling this could be of great help. He was your senior too, so he knew what the Akademiya expected of your report, quality and amount of eloquently described information wise. 

You definitely weren't the first junior Cyno talked to, but he felt pride bloom in his chest whenever you looked at him with such reverence, admiration and respect. To the point that he tried to make the coolest sounding comments.

This meant he also was fighting off the urge to make the lamest (funniest) puns with his whole mind, heart, soul and body. He didn't know if you would laugh at his jokes or if you would lose all respect you had for him. It was certainly a risky 50-50, but he was a gamer. No risks taken, no success arisen. 

You were soon arriving at Aaru village to rest. What a relief, your legs were about to seriously hurt after all the walking through sand and dunes. You couldn't wait to have delicious local meals too, you've heard about them from your colleagues who previously ventured out into the sandlands for their own papers.

Candace's welcome was warm and friendly. She was glad to see Cyno again and conversed with him for a while, as you were taking a nice and relaxing bath – still thinking about dinner. 

After changing into more comfortable clothes, you met up with Cyno to finally have dinner. You were so hungry you had to gulp down water to prevent your stomach from singing, to put it nicely. Being as keen eyed as he was, Cyno couldn't help but find your little trick cute. 

Thankfully, Candace promptly arrived with two plates of Aaru Mixed Rice, cooked in her own way, with utmost care. 

The smell was divine. You took a spoonful of the dish and peaceful your mind became. The taste was truly deliciously delicate and its warmth made you feel rejuvenated. Yes, being an Akademiya student sucked a lot but not everyone had the privilege of tasting such immaculate food. Your painful legs felt like feathers all the while you were enjoying Candace's cooking. 

That too didn't go unnoticed by Cyno. He didn't have to ask you anything to know everything happening to you in this instant. A subtle smile appeared on his face, but he didn't need to hide it as you were just way too focused on cleaning up your plate. 

After minutes of epiphany, you two were done. Candace, being an amazing host, suggested tea and freshly made Candied Ajilenakh Nut. You absolutely couldn't refuse the offer, so you finished dining with a tasty dessert. This time, Candace joined you two for a little chat about your trip, since she was finally done with her daily duties.  Having finished all drinks and food, you parted ways for the night, as the journey was about to get tougher. 

In the morning, you packed up once more and checked everything with Cyno to make sure you didn't leave anything behind. You then bid farewell to Candace, after thanking her profusely for the wonderful stay. 

You two kept walking and walking, spending the time chatting about various subjects, until you reached what could be a dead end, if not for the frail looking stairs. 

“Do you think we should use the stairs?” 

“I don't trust them. You never know if they're up to something.” 

…

… 

Was that a joke? The weird realisation made you laugh out loud. And Cyno was relieved, because the awkward silence was about to kill him. It may not be the funniest joke, but the timing was perfect. In reality, he missed an opportunity when in Aaru village, but the stairs were looked after so it would have lost all of its impact. 

To hide his satisfied yet shy expression, he took the lead and went up the stairs, using his bodyguard job as an excuse. Thankfully the stairs were sturdier than they looked, you two climbed them without any hurt. 

The sun slowly but surely hid behind sand dunes, you had to set camp somewhere safe. Fortunately Cyno knew the area and guided you to a small cave near an oasis. The water was clear and the cave could shield you from the cold and at worst, sandstorms.

After you two unpacked your belongings and set up the tent, Cyno lit a small fire with dead leaves and branches from the Ajilenakh Nut tree growing close to the waterbody. Since he got a bag of tea leaves from Candace, he decided to make you a warm cup of tea. You opened a container with leftovers from yesterday and heated it up. You were so glad that a couple changed their plans and ate at home the previous night. 

You felt so safe with Cyno. You couldn't imagine what it would have been like if you were alone or with someone else. He was knowledgeable in many ways and he effortlessly defeated monsters blocking your path. Thinking back didn't make you uneasy, you actually felt pretty relaxed. 

“Thank you, Cyno.” 

That was sudden and unexpected but he silently acknowledged your feelings with a nod. The journey so far might have been exhausting but it was worth it. It definitely became when you started to feel very sleepy. 

You excused yourself and hazardously reached your bedding, before completely passing out, still in your clothes. Cyno hurried to you, to make sure you weren’t hurt in your fall, heart pounding against his chest. His hands travelled all over your body but you didn’t react in any way, as planned. That tea worked like magic.

Back in Aaru village, while you were bathing, Cyno convinced an elderly woman to sell him the mixture by telling her his girlfriend struggled to sleep well so she needed some folk medicine, since Akademiya approved ones had close to no effects whatsoever. Obviously, everything was a lie but who could possibly dare to question the General Mahamatra on his intentions ?

Smirking to himself, he managed to calm himself down. There was no need to rush. No way you would wake up any time soon, he used the triple amount in your cup. No one could save you either.

He could have his way with you, however he wanted. The sight of you under him with such a peaceful look on your face made him feel almost guilty, you were just too cute. But that cuteness was exactly what pushed him to make you his in the first place. 

He kneeled over your body, hands gently removing your clothes, relishing in the moment. One by one, each of your garments were out of the way, your panties being the only fabric protecting you. His eyes still on your exposed body, he removed his own clothing, leaving his underwear for last. The fun could finally start.

Cyno reached down to softly kiss your lips, while his left hand crept up to your breast and started kneading it. He chuckled when he felt your nipple harden and your breathing accelerate. He loved how pliant your body was just for him. 

Cyno straightened his back without stopping his movements on your chest and palmed his growing erection. He could just get over with and fuck you right now, but tonight could also be his one and only chance so he decided to be more patient. 

He released your breast and slowly took your panties off, bringing them up to his nose and smelling your arousal. It smelled so divine, you must taste divinely as well. Cyno eagerly parted your legs and lowered himself to your core. Your glistening pussy all exposed to his eyes only was a marvellous view. 

Cyno’s tongue leisurely lapped up all around, covering you with his spit. After gathering enough of your slick and getting an appetiser, he started vigorously sucking on your growing clit. The cave was filled up with slurping sounds and your unsuppressed moans. 

He felt your entrance clench around nothing. It would be a shame if he didn’t listen to your body, so he easily slid a finger inside of you, pacing it back and forth while applying pressure in various spots in the search of your most favourite. 

And skilled as he is, your walls clenching strongly on his digit told him he found it. So he inserted one more finger and kept up the pace, preparing you for his large member. 

Once he removed his hand and saw how drenched it was, he asserted your pussy was ready for his cock. He readjusted your legs in a way that would allow deeper penetration and positioned his tip on your entrance. Cyno dragged himself through your fold using your abundant juices as lube. Repositioning himself once more, he languidly forced his throbbing cock inside your seeping hole – the sensation so good a choked moan escaped his mouth. 

As soon as he felt your cervix, he stopped his motion and slowly exhaled, looking at you softly panting in your deep slumber. You looked so cute yet unaware of his cock balls deep inside of your tight little pussy. His hips started moving, yet his eyes kept taking in all your expressions of pleasure. 

He felt your pussy loosen up a bit, your body signalling him you were ready for more. Cyno paid very close attention to you, thus his thrusts turned animalistic with more craving and more fervour in each push inside. Your tits were bouncing up and down in rhythm and his grip under your knees could bruise you if he wasn’t careful. 

Even though you were still very much unconscious, your pussy was talking for you and Cyno listened to every word. He knew you were getting close and he wanted you to cum on his cock, so his right hand released your legs and slid between your bodies to reach your throbbing clit to massage it. This was so effective you almost instantly clenched down on him so hard he thought he was about to get crushed. 

Cyno considerably slowed down to elongate your orgasm and ride it off. He thought about cumming inside of you so you would have come together but he had a better idea. 

When he felt you come down from your immense high, he pulled out of you. He truly made a beautiful mess out of you. But he wasn’t done yet. He crawled over to your mouth and pried it open with his slicked up fingers. Cyno pumped himself a few times against your tongue and released his seed within your warm mouth. 

After catching his breath, Cyno fixed his outfit and proceeded to clean you thoroughly, so you wouldn’t suspect a thing the next day. It only took him a few minutes to put you back into almost the same state as you were before your defilement. As soon as the adrenaline left his body, Cyno noticed how exhausted he was but he didn't forget about his bodyguard duties. He walked outside to check the surroundings, before going back in and retiring for the night. 

The next day, you woke up feeling sore and noticed a bitter taste in your mouth. When you tried to get up and look for Cyno, he came into your view with a cup of tea – only tea, this time. He noticed your displeased expression and immediately told you he attempted to brush your teeth last night but he couldn’t, because you didn’t let him open your mouth. Oh well, if he said so. The sun was already high up, you guessed you must have slept in. Strangely enough, you didn’t feel too energised. 

Still, you felt extremely lucky Cyno was there to guard you the whole time, or something unfortunate could have happened.

[cobaltperun]

Genius (11) - I Love You

Cairo Sweet x female (G!P) Reader

Summary: It was such a cliché, a reunion she didn’t expect to ever happen, let alone six years after she last saw you. It was supposed to mean nothing, a bit of nostalgia, maybe a brief catching up while waiting for class, it was supposed to be a small wave of nostalgia, not a tsunami that disrupted her entire life. You were her opposite, and as hard as she tried she couldn’t resist your pull.

Story masterlist / First part / Previous Part / Next Part (Finale)

Word count: 3.2k

-Please say you love me too, these three words, they could change our lives forever-

This isn’t censorship, this is just a dose of reality you needed to get a long time ago. That was what Miller told her, those were the last words he said to her before he demanded the essay, that was his rejection of her writing. Deep down she knew she shouldn’t let it affect her, that she latched onto a few lines of his writing, reaching into the depths that may have never existed to begin with, and that at the end of the day his writing overall wasn’t special or outstanding.

She was tricked by the few gems in an otherwise mediocre work, but she still admired him. He was the only writer she met, and he rejected her writing. She thought he saw her, she thought he understood her, sure, her initial intentions weren’t innocent, but she hoped for a better outcome than this. A thought came to her mind, a one much darker than the ones she considered on the surface.

Did he plan this?

Did he see her admiration or his writing, her own passion for writing, and used that? Cairo hugged herself, trembling and squeezing her body as hard as she could. The occasional touches, the gradual way he got closer to her, his invitations to spend time alone. She decided to pursue him, but was that decision entirely hers or did he make her feel seen so he could…? She bit her lower lip, feeling the cold seeping into her bones as the doors of her room opened and she turned to look at you, her eyes wide.

“Cairo?” you rushed to her side, pulled her into your arms and she felt a bit warmer. “Talk to me, what’s going through your mind?” you asked her as you gently brushed her lower lip with your thumb to make her let go of it before she could make it bleed.

But she didn’t say anything. Two questions kept repeating in her mind. Did he praise her writing because it was actually good, or did he praise it because he wanted to use her? Was his decision to fail her a professional assessment of her skills, the reality she apparently needed to face now that she wouldn’t let him fuck her, or was it just his anger?

“Y/N?” she whispered, clinging to you, craving your warmth as her doubts clouded her judgment. “I’m not sure I can write anymore,” she barely realized she was crying, the only reason she noticed was because your shirt was getting wet right in front of her eyes.

“What are you talking about?” you asked frantically, yet your voice felt distant as she grasped at your shirt, dug her nails into your back, clawed, fearing you were about to slip out of her hold especially as she felt it getting weaker. “Cairo?!” your yell sounded muffled as her vision narrowed and she felt like all she could hear was the buzzing in her head. “Cairo!” she let go of you and lost consciousness.

~X~

You sat by her bed, your foot on the chair and forehead resting on your raised knee as you waited for Cairo to wake up. From the corner of your eye, you saw a spider on the ceiling, unmoving despite a fly struggling in its web. You kept watching, wondering what would happen and the fly kept struggling, again and again flapping its wings until it fell off the web, all because the spider didn’t move from its spot.

You felt anger coursing through your veins, you wished you could have punched the bastard again, not that it would fix anything. Cairo would still be in this state, unconscious, under so much stress and with nothing you could do for her right now. Even now, unconscious, she didn’t look at peace.

You clenched your fists as you became consumed by the feeling of helplessness. She didn’t deserve any of this, she was eighteen, just barely eighteen and she was hurt by someone who was supposed to be her mentor and now she… Cairo of all people doubted her ability to write?!

The doors to Cairo’s room opened slowly as Winnie came in. She’s been with the two of you since you called her. “She’s still not waking up?” she asked as she sat down on the chair next to yours.

You just shook your head, you didn’t even glance at Winnie, as you kept your entire attention on Cairo. “Has this happened before?” you had to ask.

Winnie remained silent for a couple of minutes, but you didn’t push her to answer you. “Never like this, but she did have a tendency to lose consciousness every now and then after her parents made it clear they didn’t give a fuck about her,” she revealed and you nodded, taking that information and locking it away for later. “Maybe you could read to her? Something important to both of you?” she suggested, and it wasn’t that it didn’t cross your mind, you just didn’t want to disturb Cairo.

“I’ll give it a shot,” you figured it was worth a shot, books always were Cairo’s escape, and if telling her a story could help her even a little bit, you’d gladly do it. So, you began telling her ‘Around the World in Eighty Days’ from page one.

~X~

She woke up disoriented, and though she could recognize her own room she somehow felt like it was unfamiliar to her as her brain caught up to her being awake. She felt an arm around her waist and relaxed, remembering the feeling and weight of your arm before she remembered her own room. And indeed, when she looked to the side she saw you sleeping next to her. You looked tired, as if you just recently fell asleep and Cairo remembered the last moments before she lost consciousness.

She remembered you calling, yelling, her name, the worry in your voice. And she was sorry she put you through this. When was the last time you ate? Cairo knew you, knew it was entirely possible that you were so worried you couldn’t eat, and she could only hope Winnie made you eat something. So, as her head began clearing from all the confusion and cacophony of different thoughts she turned to her side and moved closer to you.

You gasped, your eyes widening the moment you felt she was awake and Cairo felt guilty for that. “Are you okay?” you immediately asked her and she was sure you would have sat up if she didn’t quickly put an arm around you.

“I am now,” she assured you, the heat of your body as she pressed up against you helped, chased the doubts and horrible thoughts away and she took a deep breath when you hugged her, your hold on her tight and firm. For a quick moment she thought that this was what she craved her entire life. Someone holding her like this, holding her so that she doesn’t turn into a ghost, holding her so that she would feel like she had something worth staying for, and you gave that to her. “Just hold me like this and I’ll be fine,” she whispered, certain that just this much would help her get through most of her doubts.

And you nodded, kissing the top of her head. “I’ll hold you for the rest of my life if you’ll let me,” her heart drummed even faster against her chest at those words, and she allowed herself a smile.

“I’ll hold you to it,” she snuggled even closer to you. “And I swear I’ll be yours for the rest of my life as well,” she promised you, at the moment uncertain of many things, but not of that one. Until the rest of her life she would be yours.

~X~

But while your touch and support, and especially your love, helped her immensely. While it snapped her out of the stupor she was in and she managed to move on, to take everything happening in school and maintain her score, the was one thing that she couldn’t fix. For weeks now she couldn’t write a single word and she just barely managed to hand in the assignments that required any creative writing whatsoever.

She kept staring at the blank page, willing her fingers to move and type, but she kept going back to her essay, to those comments, and she felt it ruining her, tearing apart one bit of her identity she created herself, without anyone else influencing it. She was a writer, it defined her, unlike many other things she tried or did, and it was broken. Shattered into millions of pieces and no matter how many times she told herself he had no right to break her like that. That he was mediocre, unable to reach the heights of success, that she misjudged him, it still affected her.

She tried to type, she tried to write in a notebook, hoping that maybe a physical pen and paper would get her to write something, anything. Even when something would spark her motivation to write she just, plain and simple, no longer felt like it was good enough to put on the page.

You inspired her, way back when you drove past her house that night you arrived, and now she felt as if she was too arrogant when she thought she could capture that moment in a remotely acceptable way, let alone write anything worth reading.

You came into her room, carrying a cup of coffee in one hand and a bowl with sliced fruits in another. She has been neglecting proper nutrition lately, and she felt her mouth watering as you set the fruit and the coffee on her nightstand. You bent over her chair and kissed her on the cheek. “Take a break for me?” you asked, kissing lower as Cairo leaned her head back, sighing softly as your kisses trailed a path to her neck.

You still loved her, even as she felt like she was a sinking ship, unable to pull herself fully together. And Cairo felt her heart soaring at that, at the way you stood by her side unconditionally. How many times did you have to skip class to pull Cairo out of her despair-induced thoughts and take her away from this damn place? Way too many, it wasn’t fair that you had to pull the pieces of her back together, yet you still stayed. “Y/N,” she moaned, her eyes closed as you hugged her from behind, your lips latched onto her neck. And all the tension in her body faded away as she relaxed.

“Come on,” you whispered in her ear and pulled her to her feet, and she got up, curious.

Especially when she saw an envelope on her bed. “What is this?” she asked as she picked it up.

“Your award, you won a writing contest,” you said as you got comfortable on the right side of the bed, where you usually ended up sleeping whenever you slept next to her.

“What?” she didn’t compete in any writing contest, not recently, not ever in her life. She looked at you, now more puzzled than ever, but you just patted the spot on the bed next to you.

You cleared your throat and scratched your cheek a bit, refusing to meet her eyes. “I sent your most recent essay, you left your laptop on and I felt like I had to do something. And I knew you wouldn’t let me if I told you,” you explained, finally looking at Cairo as she sat down next to you. “I’m sorry for going behind your back, I just couldn’t sit back and do nothing, and my words weren’t reaching you.”

Cairo remained silent, indeed, she won the first place, and the judges were well-known, recognized writers, and they deemed her writing to be the best essay that was sent in. You were right about your words not reaching her. As hard as her heart tried to believe you, her brain kept repeating that writing, just plain and simple, wasn’t something you knew all that much about. She reasoned that it was support born out of love, not out of reasonable, critical judgment of her word.

And now you did this and Cairo felt tears filling up her eyes. “What if everyone else just wrote something atrociously bad and this was the only relatively mediocre thing?” her doubt still spoke, making you hug her. For a bit all Cairo could hear was the chirping of the birds near her window, and that frightened her as much as the combination of your scent and the fruit from the bowl calmed her nerves down.

“If it was just this village, I might be able to believe that, but not when it’s a contest anyone in this entire country below the age of twenty could enter. Take a win, Cairo. People that succeeded where he failed recognized your writing,” you told her eventually and she desperately wanted it to be true, she was starting to believe it.

“You really believe that?” Cairo asked, feeling her doubts still clouding her judgment.

“You were unfortunate, not allowed to thrive, with no one there to nurture your talents, yet you got this far,” she remembered the wild roses and the old trees, constantly falling on top of them, crushing them, breaking them. She ended up being such a rose, in more ways than one, and you, much like you saved her that day in the rain, kept shielding her through the storms.

With you she could weather any storm, she was sure of that.

“I wasn’t unfortunate. I got to meet you, to fall in love with you,” she argued, turning to kiss you on the lips. She’d leave this place, start a new, better life, she would get over this hurdle, and with you by her side she would be truly happy.

“I love you,” somehow you both said it at the same time, and Cairo laughed at how ridiculous that was. You just grinned, before her laughter infected you as well and you both shared a laugh. And maybe, just maybe, that was an adult, someone capable of pushing through obstacles, someone whose will couldn’t be as easily broken by an unfulfilled failed writer that temporarily had power over them.

Or maybe it was marked by finding someone who would stay by you, that would keep you standing even when you doubt yourself, and providing that in return when they need you. Maybe she still didn’t know what was an adult, but what you had certainly felt like love between adults, and not teenagers

It felt stronger, it felt deeper, it was already tested as Cairo hit her lowest and was slowly rising from it once again. And she thought that maybe individually the two of you weren’t yet as mature as adults, but that together you made up for each other’s weaknesses, making a whole that was better than just the sum of your parts.

“I love you, Y/N,” she said once more, looking into your eyes and finding that same love reflecting back at her.

It wasn’t madman’s love. It wasn’t desperate, it was just passionate. A madman’s love would eventually fade, give into time because one thing or person couldn’t maintain its attention for years to come. Eventually something would come along and take that mad love away. No, your love for her, and her love for you, neither one was madman’s love. Though she thought that was what she desired.

It was something different, something she still couldn’t properly describe. Maybe she would never be able to give it a definition, but she knew there were no ruins, there was no romanticized decay of either of you as you got burnt by the madman’s love. It wasn’t a fall, but a rise of an empire you were creating together.

~X~

You joined Cairo in her backyard as she watered the wild roses, she looked much better now, happier, satisfied once more. She even wrote this morning, as evidenced by the open word file that wasn’t empty, by the way, that she left on her laptop in the bedroom. She turned to you when she heard you approaching through the soft grass and fallen leaves.

“Hey,” she said softly lowering the garden hose to the ground and meeting you halfway between her house and the roses.

“Good morning,” you smiled at her and let her pull you down into a kiss. It was soft, much different than the hungry kisses you got used to at the start of the relationship, and it felt perfect for the morning kiss.

Cairo pulled away first, but she quickly pecked your lips once more, her arms were still wrapped around your neck and you found yourself hugging her and pulling her close to you. “Just a bit more and we’ll graduate high school,” she buried her face in the crook of your neck. “I still don’t know what to do for my Yale essay, what did I even achieve?” she asked you.

You’ve given it a lot of thought actually. This was important to Cairo, this was her goal, the one thing she was looking forward to even as she cursed her mundane, mediocre life in this village. At the same time you knew she was still shaken by what happened, as she was you feared she wouldn’t be able to make the most out of it, that she would fall behind simply because of how much what Miller said and did affected her. And you only thought of one solution that might work in these circumstances. “Take a year off,” you told her as you pulled her along to sit on the grass where it wasn’t wet.

“What?” Cairo was genuinely, and reasonably, confused by your suggestion.

“Let’s travel the world. Experience it all, the different cultures, different lifestyles, see for yourself the world outside of this village, and then decide what your greatest achievement is. Measure yourself against the world, and take what it has to offer you,” you said as you held her hand, hoping she would see the logic in your suggestion and accept.

You’ve long since decided that you’d go with Cairo wherever she goes, if it was straight to university, you’d go with her, pursuing your own career in music, if she chose to stay here, you’d do so as well, and try to build a career from here, and if she chose to travel the world, you’d be with her.

“And you’ll go with me? We’ll do it together?” she asked, her eyes bright and filling with life and you knew right then and there that she loved the idea.

“We’ll do it together,” you assured her and laughed as Cairo lunged at you, kissing you in that deep, hungry way you were so used to as the two of you fell down to the grass. Not that being on the grass bothered Cairo as she kept kissing you, her tongue already deep inside your mouth as you sucked it gently.

“I love you,” she said, stopping the kissing just enough to take a deep breath and say that, and then, before you could even respond she once again kissing you.

A/N: And that is the long-awaited chapter 11. Chapter 11.5, Biker Girl is set a few weeks after this chapter.

Story masterlist / First part / Previous Part / Next Part (Finale)

Taglist: @deimaisgail @bee-keeping @marvelous-disaster @jmwetterlund @tekanparadiae

@alexkolax @ioveyouyouloveme @aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh @autorasexy @lifeforsimp13

@puta1 @minnyyminny

[dragonbarbie]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏 𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 - modern!aemond targaryn x reader

rating: 18+, minors dni

summary: academic rivals, where revision has the same rules as strip poker

word count: 3.8k

tags: mature content, smut, modern!au, reader being petty and competitive, aemond also being petty and competitive, guest appearance by aegon

note: this is like… my first attempt at writing smut so ….*clown emoji* anyway hope you like it

y/n was used to being number 1. all throughout high school, be it history or physics – she had the highest grade in every class and was managing to do so without much effort, really. she hadn’t expected that to change when she landed her dream university, dragonstone. but when she arrived she had the rude shock of getting acquainted with aemond targaryen. first day of their valyrian history class, she had expected to impress her professor with the extensive knowledge on the subject that had been one of her favourites in high school, but when she found herself being beaten to the punch by the blonde bastard, she took an instant dislike to him.

pettily enough, as everyone was leaving the class, she made a show of saying “suck-up” in a not so quiet whisper as she passed him by. “excuse me?” his condescending, posh tone made her eyes roll. “all i did was answer his questions. i wasn’t the one gushing about the books he had written.” he sharply pointed out. “whatever.” she tried to brush off the retort. “if you’re so jealous, maybe actually read before class next time, instead of whining.” he coolly stated as he stalked off, leaving her behind as she gritted her teeth and glared at his striding figure.

from that point onwards, every class that she shared with him, she made a deliberate effort to work extra hard for. she went beyond just the recommended readings, she would write extra few hundred words for every essay, and for every test she would spend hours in preparation. still, frustratingly, all of this effort only made her good competition for him and not the outright winner. it seemed that aemond targaryen was in fact used to going beyond just the bare minimum, she didn’t ever see him take a break. if he wasn’t at the library, she found him sweating it out on the track field. his perfection was downright annoying.

what her friend baela found annoying, was the detail with which y/n would observe (obsess over) his daily behaviour and then rant about it to her. by the time finals week was on the horizon, she was just about done with y/n’s obsession.

y/n had been in the middle of ranting about how she had caught aemond revising for finals on the treadmill, when baela slammed the book that was open in front of her with frustration. “why don’t you just join him then?” she sarcastically asked, earning a “yeah right” from y/n who returned back to her notes as she realised that all this talk of her rival had clearly seemed to drive her friend to the point of irritation. “actually… why not?” though she had asked the question rhetorically, baela soon realised that perhaps that wasn’t such a crazy idea after all. y/n, did not share that understanding. she blinked back at her “i’m sorry am i supposed to say something or just wait in silence while you regain your senses. what are you talking about?”

“you said it yourself, you study better with a partner. and i don’t have any of the same classes as you.” the thought of baela having fun studying marine biology while y/n had to suffer aemond targaryen’s presence all alone at the history department was a point that brought her great sadness each day. “he does. and you have to admit it, he’s pretty good.”

as soon as y/n opened her mouth with a retort right on her tongue, baela silenced her with one pointed sentence “i have one reply to all your objections — keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.”

oh, y/n thought, she’d never thought of it that way. “besides,” baela reopened the book she had shut, “this way you can keep an even closer eye on his schedule.” she teased.

☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆

aemond somehow didn’t need to lift his eye to know who it was that had approached the corner library desk that had become his unofficial residence for finals weeks. “can i help you, l/n?” he asked, as she stopped before him. “no, but i can certainly help you, targaryen.” she announced, pulling out the chair across from him and putting her laptop bag down on the desk. he wordlessly raised his brow as she made herself comfortable. “look—” she knew that selling the idea to him was going to be just as hard as it was for it to be sold to her, but she was as stubborn as she was competitive, “—if we work together, our work will be halved. i can beat your ass at history of tyrosh and the origins of dorne any day of the week, and you are marginally better than me at valyrian history and aegon’s conquest. i am proposing that we sit and quiz each other on the exam portions and that way we’re both covered for our weaker subjects.”

she did not like the smug smirk that overcame his face at the suggestion. “so, you’ve come here to grovel for my help?” she could punch his perfect white teeth in. “look you little shit, while everyone on campus will be sweating and crying and chugging copious amounts of energy drinks to survive this week – we could be sailing through it, if we do this. our rivalry’s entertaining and all, but the stress of finals week will make even your fabulous hair fall out.”

“hmm.” he considered her words for a second. she rolled her eyes as he seemed to revel in making her wait for his response, “c’mon, targaryen, do it for the hair.” she was sure she saw his lips twitch upwards at her teasing.

“fine.” he finally gave in, causing y/n to sigh in relief, “but if you can’t keep up, i’m dropping you.” “likewise.” y/n promised.

she had to admit, studying with aemond was actually not that bad. their reading speed was similar, he kept her on her toes with his constant quizzing, and initially he had seemed to be singularly focused on the task at hand. as the days went on though, y/n found that they had actually started to talk of things beyond dead king and queens. “so, you’re like, related to the conqueror?” she asked as a manner of taking a break from their revision of her least favourite class, the conquest of westeros. “yeah, directly. he’s a great-great, times ten, grandfather.” he answered, turning the signet ring on his hand subconsciously. “that’s cheating, then. i’d be great at that class too if daddy had told me tales of grandpa aegon every night before bed.” she shrugged as she reached to grab the pot of black coffee, to refill her cup.

“well, ‘daddy’ didn’t even bother saying goodnight most nights, so let’s not attribute any of my success to him.” she looked up at him suddenly at the off-handed admission about his home life, but before she could really react, he added. “you just want there to be more to why i’m better than you, rather than accepting – i just am.” there was that smug smirk again, the one that she used to loath. but nowadays, that same smile was more playful than hostile, she had noted. “or, i’m trying to figure out if being an asshole is just who you are, or if it runs in your family. aegon burned half of westeros down to colonise it, so I’m leaning towards the latter.” “colonise?” he was clearly irritated at her choice of words. “one race of people, the valyrians, through violence made another race, the first men, submit to them. that’s the textbook definition of colonisation, is it not?” she raised her brow, inviting him to debate her. she knew it was the subject he felt most passionate about, and thus, it was the class where she would most often find herself playing devil’s advocate, for no reason other than to oppose whatever view aemond had taken. in their revision sessions, too, she liked to watch the passion light a fire in his eye whenever she would declare his opinion was wrong. he looked hot when he was academically pissed off.

“westeros was just different war lord states fighting for dominance until aegon united the seven kingdoms.” he firmly argued. “so what, that gave him open invite to just come and take over?” she challenged, crossing her arms with a self-satisfied grin at having gotten him so riled up already. he opened his mouth to throw his retort at her, when suddenly the door to aemond’s apartment, where they had been studying, swung open to disturb the proceedings.

she saw a man with platinum blonde hair that matched aemond’s stumbling as he entered the apartment with his arm around a beautiful girl, with black hair hanging down to her waist.

aemond, she noted, was visibly annoyed at this.

“oh, did we spoil your little study session?” the other man rhetorically asked, without any real remorse in his tone, his words slurring to indicate that he had been drinking. he sat himself down on the sofa next to y/n, uninvited, a move that inexplicably made aemond’s jaw tighten. “you must be my little brother’s study buddy, y/n. i know all about you, and i’m sure he’s told you nothing about me. i’m aegon, the nerd’s big bro.” y/n was immediately amused at the thought of this man, who was decked in a supreme tracksuit and who’s hair seemed to have been left uncombed, was the perfect, prim and proper aemond’s elder brother. “nice to meet you, aegon. are you studying at the university too?” “business major, yeah, graduating next year.” he replied stretching his hand to place it behind y/n. aemond snorted at his brother, “with the way your finals prep is going, i would not bother wasting money on a graduation gown.” he eyed the woman with whom aegon had entered, judgement clear in his eye.

“hey! i decided to follow your lead and i’ve asked cassandra here to be my study buddy. i’ve actually gone one step further than you and invented the best revision method.” he declared. aemond seemed to have no curiosity at his brother’s statement, but y/n asked “do tell.” aegon turned to her with a pleased smile, “it’s revision, but with strip poker rules.” he simply answered.

she raised a brow at his response, “as in…?” “as in you quiz each other, and every time one of you gets an answer wrong – you take an item of clothing off. it’s a win-win, if you get the answer right, good job, you know your shit. if you don’t…. well, its so much more fun if you don’t.” y/n had to purse her lips to suppress the laughter at the back of her throat.

at the sound of aemond packing up his books, she looked away from aegon to the younger brother. “let’s go to your dorm, y/n. he definitely doesn’t know his shit, and his ‘revision’ tends to be loud.”

☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆

as per y/n’s prediction, final’s week had indeed sailed by for aemond and her because of their revision sessions. they only had one exam left now, and it was the one they had both been dreading the most – historical methods. it was a subject that was so boring and plainly simple, that they knew it was easy enough to study for, but they could not bring themselves to revise something so mind-numbingly dull.

y/n, in her frustration, threw her notes on the table at aemond’s apartment. aemond, seated on the other end of the sofa from where y/n was lying on her back, shared her frustration, but he tended to be more stoic and was determined to finish the work on hand. “it’s just a few more topics, and then you never have to think about the subject ever again.” he tried to placate her. “it’s too boring, i can’t do it!” she complained bringing her hands up to her face in frustration. aemond couldn’t help but notice how the action made the t-shirt she was wearing ride up and expose soft skin just above her jean shorts, his eye remaining fixed on the spot for a second too long.

then, the mixture of a caffeine high and a boredom that was seeming like an unending chasm, gave birth to what y/n thought was a brilliant idea. she moved her fingers slightly, so only her eyes would poke out from behind them. “let’s try your brother’s idea.” she suddenly said, “i don’t think anyone has ever said that sentence before.” he remarked.

“i’m serious.” she sat up, as if to indicate her earnestness. “the ‘revision, but with strip poker rules’ idea, let’s try it.”

aemond’s expression was unreadable as she watched him, but she was certain she saw his adam’s apple move at the suggestion. “it’s a dumb idea.” he said, but his throat had gone dry at the thought.  y/n rolled her eyes, “that’s the point! it’ll break the monotony.” she crawled to his side of the sofa. “come on, aemond. don’t be a coward.” the suggestion of him even possibly being cowardly had clearly set off something in him. “fine.” he shut the book in his hand and placed it on the table.

they quizzed each other, and it was going much the same as their usual quizzing went, which disappointed y/n since it did not in fact break the monotony as she had wanted. that was until, in her over-confidence, she got a question wrong. “well…” aemond seemed to be very satisfied indeed at her wrong answer, “are you going to do the honours or are you ready to admit that you’re the only coward here?” he scanned the white t-shirt she was wearing, almost with hunger and an expectancy, y/n thought.

she pulled the shirt off over her head, and threw it right at his smug face, “i’m no coward.” he caught it with ease, and for a split second she was sure he smelling it as he held it to his face, before dropping it in his lap. when he looked at her now, he didn’t even attempt to hide how he was taking in her figure, as she sat exposed only in her black bra. knowing that she was being watched, she sat straighter, even as she muttered “pervert” but made no attempt to hide her form.

 “please, don’t even try to pretend like you don’t love it.” now, that did take her aback. sure, she had caught him looking at her chest or her ass many-a time over their study sessions, and had done nothing to stop it, but she hadn’t realised that he had in fact, caught her catching him when he looked. he knew she had allowed it all this while, unspoken.

the monotony was certainly broken now.

when it was next aemond’s turn to ask a question, he threw her an easy one, a question she had answered in class. but y/n shrugged and said, “i don’t know”, as an answer. aemond snorted at her, “yeah, you do.”

she simply laid on her back as she undid her shorts and slid them down her legs, eyes never leaving aemond’s as she did. he wet his lower lip with his tongue, and then bit down as he watched. his eye trailed her bare legs, up to her panties, with very little being left to his imagination now that she sat only in her underwear on his sofa.

“my turn” she had the perfect trick question in mind, and when he called her out, saying “there is no right answer to that”, she shrugged once again. “are you going to do the honours or are you ready to admit that you’re the only coward here?” she threw his words back in his face with a grin.

he didn’t seem to need a lot of convincing. he pulled off his shirt in one swift move, and y/n felt her stomach clench at the sight of defined muscles on pale skin. she took a minute to memorise his details before she asked him the next question, but she hadn’t even reached the end of it before aemond was unbuttoning his pants, answering the question by simply saying “don’t know, don’t care.” it seemed as if he was in a hurry, as if he had waited long enough for this moment.

y/n seemed to be in a hurry too, when she deliberately gave a rushed, wrong answer to his next question. she moved her knees to straddle him where he sat, able to feel everything through her own cotton panties over his satin boxers. “need some help with the bra hooks.” she said as an excuse for her action. he readily obliged, with his hands reaching behind her and unhooking her bra with ease, letting the material fall down to the floor. his hands trailed up from her waist to her chest, pale hands first covering and then roughly squeezing her breasts. she started to rock back and forth where she sat, her now wet panties grinding against his obvious bulge.

“it’s your turn to ask.” she breathlessly reminded him after a minute, “fuck revision.” he was trailing kisses around her collar bone, sucking hard enough to leave bruises, she was certain. ““fuck revision”? who are you and what have you done to aemond targaryen?” she chuckled. he only gave her a growl in return, as his arms snaked around her waist to hold her up and then place her back down, with her back hitting the soft sofa.

he hovered over her for a second, supporting himself on his knees as his fingertips traced her side. “you look so hot when you’re concentrating….” he murmured, seemingly out of nowhere, as his fingers found the waistband of her panties and hooked under them. “…and when you’re debating me….” he pulled the cloth over her legs, and his hand reached down to the wetness between her legs “… and especially, when someone tells you you’re right.” a shiver went down her spine she felt two of his cold fingers in her folds. “already so wet for me.” he chuckled.

“oh, would you stop being a tease and just…” at her complaint he withdrew his fingers suddenly, causing her to whine. “just what?” he asked, making her feel more frustrated with him than she had ever felt before. “did you really think i was going to let go of the perfect opportunity to make you beg for me? make you beg me, to fuck you?” oh, there was that stupid fucking smug smirk once again. Now, it was no secret that y/n had too much pride, especially when it came to facing off with aemond targaryen. but as she lay there, exposed and achingly wet, she decided she had to bury her pride to get what she wanted.

“aemond…” she swallowed, “fuck me.” that did not seem to give him what he wanted. he cocked his head to one side, “hmm. you’re missing something.” she huffed, thinking why he had to make this so difficult, and how satisfied he must be at getting her in this position. “aemond…fuck me….please.”

at that, he grinned. he bent down to be inches away from her face, “as you wish.”

she felt two of his fingers enter her suddenly, making her gasp. his fingers curled inside of her roughly, at the same time he started to kiss the side of her neck with more gentleness than she had expected of him. the dichotomy gave her a high. his fingers continued their assault, as her hands tangled themselves in his hair. “so tight…” he whispered against her ear, “how long have you been thinking about this, you little slut?” y/n could only hum back, not capable of formulating a well thought-out response.

Her legs clenched as he continued to dig his fingers inside of her with perfect rhythm. His thumb reached up to massage her clit, as her hand reach down to grab the arm that was inside of her, nails leaving scratch marks. A warmth spread around inside her stomach at the feeling.

when he suddenly pulled his fingers out, she groaned in frustration, “has anyone ever told you, you have no patience?” he tutted. y/n rolled her eyes as she sat forward and her hands moved to finally remove his boxers, “yes.”

with his boxers now discarded, he positioned her to lay back down on the sofa, her legs around his waist. his tip grazed her core, but he didn’t enter her which only added to her annoyance. “aemond, i swear to the old gods and the new, if you tease me for a second longer—” she was cut off by him slamming inside of her suddenly. “ah!” she moaned as he filled her, “that ought to shut you up.” he grunted, supporting himself by keeping a hand on the arm of the sofa that was beneath her head. “oh, gods… aemond…” she could feel him touching her spot, legs growing weaker with each thrust.

he was going at it with a ruthless pace, leaving her feeling helpless and satisfied at the same time. his mouth dipped and he began sucking on her nipple, his teeth grazing where she was sensitive, making her yelp in pleasure. she grabbed his shoulder, grip strong enough leave even more marks. as she felt his tongue circle the skin around her nipple, she made a mental note to tell his brother that she had come to agree that his method of revising was indeed ingenious.

“aemond…i’m…” she had begun to say, “yeah baby, almost there” he replied lifting his head to her face. he tucked a stray stand of her hair behind her ear, a gesture that felt more intimate than the sex. he placed his hand on her cheek before his lips finally met hers. she could taste the black coffee they had been drinking on his tongue, mixed with something minty like toothpaste. for all the roughness with which he fucked her, y/n realised that the kiss felt sweet, tender almost.

“fuck…” he said against her lips, and she could tell he was close too. “aemond…ah!” she reached her peak, just as he pulled out and finished on her stomach.

panting, breathless and sore, for once y/n did not have a retort in the presence of aemond targaryen. he seemed rather speechless too, as he remained above her, unspeaking but his eye refusing to leave her face. he seemed to be in deep thought, and just when he opened his mouth to speak, a different voice could be heard from down the hall.

“and you called my ‘revising’ loud.” aegon snorted, leaning against his bedroom door.

[reminiscences2]

𐙚 -DRAFT #1

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ lazy miles1610 x reader fluff, slightly suggestive

idk bro i'm bored and there's no more miles1610 x reader fics ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

miles had been staring at his blank paper for the last ten minutes. he was supposed to have been starting his english essay due monday, but he only managed the title and his name. "damn, i'm bored." miles muttered to himself, spinning around in his swivel chair. he threw his head back, sighing as he tried to find some interest in the dorm ceiling above him.

meanwhile, i was actually on the way to his room. i had just finished up all my due work, and i was in a cheery mood. i knocked gently at his door, waiting for a response. i didn't have to wait for anything past half of a second for miles to appear at the door. "hey, [ y/n ]!" he blurted out quickly, opening the door with superhuman speed. he wasn't even trying to hide how much he had been wanting you to visit. "hey babyyy," i greet him, leaning in for a short kiss as i held his face. he seemed to shiver at my touch, his ears heating up at the nickname i gave him. "s-so wassup? how you been?" he asked awkwardly, closing the door as i walked in. his arms looked as if he didn't know where to place them, and he was acting as if we hadn't been dating for the last seven months now. i chuckle gently at his attempt of being smooth. "nothin', i finished my work for the weekend and i wanted to see your stupid face." i quip, tilting my head teasingly while intertwining his hands with mine. his face lit up into a giant smile as soon as you started holding his hands. "aww, really? even though you see it literally every single day? that's nice," he said, jokingly trying to pretend he didn't love hearing those things from me. i could obviously tell he'd already gotten back to his sassy demeanor. "i'm sorry, for me that just translated to 'leave', so i guess i'll get goin'" i remark with the same unit of sassiness, letting go of his hands and turning towards the door with a smirk. that made him scoff, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards him. "stoppp, i was kidding. please don't go," he pleaded, rolling his eyes as he found himself once again begging me for something. "i'm dying of boredom, mami." he groaned, tugging me closer.

"maybe watch the tone then?" i tease, raising an eyebrow. "maybe stay and not act like a jerk?" he retorts mockingly, tilting his head down towards me. "cmonnn, i need attention," he whispered, squeezing my hands as if he would die if i didn't listen. he groaned in response, covering his face with his hands in defeat. "pleaseeeeeee, just five minutes," he whined, his words sounding more like a baby than anything, which made him cringe even more. "mmm... okay, i'm convinced," i announce, my smirk still plastered on my place. there was something so satisfying about seeing him like that. "c'mon, sit here." i mutter, crawling onto his bed and settling onto my knees to pat the space between me, and the pillow for him to sit at. i was glad i'd come over in just a tank top and sweatpants, so i didn't have to worry about anything else. miles grinned, quickly clambering onto the bed and settling into the spot i'd left for him. he seemed to greatly enjoy this position, loving how i felt on top of him. "damn, you're fine," he muttered under her breath, hesitantly settling his hands around my hips. he was quickly snapping back into his normal self. it sort of surprised me how fast he went from shy to turned on in a few minutes. "it seems like you are asking for a different kind of attention here, baby." i tease, shuffling closer as i laugh. "well, when you look so good, you have to expect it," he replied, a smirk plastered on his face as his eyes looked me up and down. he was back in his cocky little persona now, which was honestly what i wanted. "oh?" i hummed, trying not the laugh at the sudden switch in personality. i could clearly tell the way his face heated up at my change in tone, along with that same dorky smile. "where'd this come from? i thought you wanted to cuddle? now it's sounding like something else?" i tease, giggling.

"shut up, this is still cuddling. see?" he replied quietly, lifting his head up again to look into my eyes, "is this not a nice, peaceful cuddle?" he teased back with a smirk, his hands still wrapped around my hips. i could just feel the sarcasm in his tone.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ i might return to this later, i quit for now, lemme know if yall want more

[sehodreams]

Have you seen the discussion around wonbin's short height? Can you think of a way to make his short height sexy and dark? Maybe his short stature gives the illusion that he's weak or a pushover but in fact his aura is huge and intimidating? idk i trust your ideas are better teehee

Summary: You wanted to try something new, and your sweet classmate was the perfect option, but what happens when the kind little boy feels insulted when you call him a virgin? Of course he makes you say you're sorry.

WC: 5.7K

TW and tags: nerd!dom!Wonbin x sub!plus size!reader (I feel she’s something more but I have no idea what to call her), hard dom!Wonbin, spitting, hair pulling, use of names (slut, whore), extreme dubcon, a part of noncon, teasing, mocking, overstimulation, use of sex toys, use of the term virgin as an insult, spanking, masturbation, lots of filthy stuff.

Comment: Sorry for taking so long, I can’t write short stuff, I’m trying, but I end up writing these long ass stories because even if my english vocabulary is lacking, the filthiness of my mind not lol. This is dark, if you don’t like this kind of content please just scroll. Also, the hair pulling scene was inspired from @///403tarot and his reading for Wonbin, i just can't stop thinking about it, thank you lord. (edit: I hope you like it anon, sorry if it's not what you expected)

You had a type, you weren't exactly sure if it was because you liked how they looked or how they made you feel, but all the boys you dated were almost identical, from the height to the roughness of their hands, the callouses they had from training were always on the same spots and they even acted the same way, because they always cheated on you.

You didn't know why, but those fit guys always looked your way, as if conquering you was the next step in their bulking plan, and you accepted because you loved to feel small by their side, it was pretty difficult to find boys that made you feel like that, protected and tender, because you were a big girl, and also you didn't have much option since most boys around preferred skinny girls, so you didn't have much experience meeting other kind of boys that caught your attention.

"Maybe you should try something different, you never know, it doesn't have to be a lanky guy, but maybe you could start with younger boys, I've heard they're fun too" your friend said, and you nodded, if you wanted something different you had to break the pattern, but with who?

You looked at your options around, there were a few cute guys in your classes, and even if you were big, you wouldn't accept just anyone, you had to like them, so maybe Anton from philosophy could be a good option, he was younger than you, or Eunseok from social studies, he was your age, but lanky as hell, Sungchan from history?, he was kind of a gym bro too, but not like your exes, and he was more sweet than normal, maybe that could work.

You were thinking about it when Wonbin sat next to you and pulled a folder out of his backpack "I know we had until the weekend to send the essay but I've been free these days and I already finished it, I did your part so you didn't have to, but I brought it in case you wanted to change something" he shyly moved the folder your way, giving you a soft smile.

Sweet Wonbin, with his squared glasses and his ugly ass flannels, he always knew what to do to make you happy, maybe he could be a good option, he was different from your usual type, short and skinnier than normal, and pretty instead of handsome, he'd have never caught your attention before, but he was nice, so you could at least do him a little favor and let him touch a real girl, because even if it sounded bad, you were sure he had never done it before, you just had to see the way his eyes avoided yours when you talked, or the anime girl he had on his phone background.

"Wonbin you're the best!" You said, making him smile more, "I was about to talk to you actually, my computer's been acting weird these days and I was wondering if you could come to my house and check it, I heard you fixed Shotaro's laptop not long ago" You asked, touching his arm and looking at him with your doe eyes. Your computer was fine, but you wanted to be alone with him, and you knew he'd do anything for you.

Just like you expected, he nodded eagerly, telling you he was free whenever you needed him.

And like that, the next day you had him in your room, both of you in front of your computer sitting shoulder to shoulder, he telling you something about you not needing to invest in some antivirus because he could install you one for free, and you nodding to everything he said, watching his slender fingers write stuff you didn't understand on the keyboard.

He had finished quick, not finding anything out of normal, telling you to call him in case your computer acted weird again, so he could immediately see what was wrong.

You thanked him and offered him a cup of tea before he left, sitting next to him on the little table on the floor next to your bed. You decided to make some conversation while he finished his tea, "thank you so much Wonbin, my boyfriend, well, ex-boyfriend, was the one who checked my computer, you have no idea how much I appreciate your help" you said.

He nodded, "it's nothing, don't worry" he murmured. You didn't know how to approach the idea of you two having a date, so you waited for him to talk, but he didn't.

You were like that for an uncomfortable minute, so you started to ramble about school stuff while he continued drinking his tea, at least he seemed more at ease after he laughed to something you said. You were about to show him some papers you had in one of your drawers, crawling to your desk since it was just next you, but when you went back to where you were sitting you saw him stiff, with his backpack covering his lap.

You didn't have to be a genius to know what he was hiding, you just didn't expect it to happen so fast, you had showed him a flash of the back of your thighs, and he was already like that, you expected him to be a virgin, but to that point? it was even kind of laughable.

He was looking down to his cup, fingers playing with the handle, not daring to directly look at you, a bit too shy for you, but you saw the opportunity and took it, "everything okay?" you asked him. You were on your knees, chest close to him, and your hand brushed his arm to make him look at your direction.

The air got hotter and you saw him gulp, this was new, kind of exciting, to see a boy be like that, you were too used to the brute kind of man that would have already pushed you to the floor to take you and seeing him so nervous was kind of fun too.

Your eyelids fluttered, almost closing, and your mouth approached him, he looked at you, waiting, and didn't move when you kissed him, it was more a fast peck on the lips, pulling away as fast as you gave it to him, just a little teasing for him to make the next move.

You held your breath, the tip of your nose touching his and expecting a kiss back, but he only talked, "I... I shouldn't, I have a partner".

"What?" You said shocked with his answer, immediately moving back and away from his face, you just couldn't believe it, you were there, offering yourself to that boy, and he already had a girlfriend? Since when? You had never seen him maintain a conversation with another girl who wasn't you, and if you were honest, luckily you had seen him with two or three friends. Still, you felt bad for talking with that tone to him, as if it was unbelievable that someone liked him, "No, I'm sorry, that sounded really bad, I didn't mean too, I just... I didn't expect you to have a girlfriend."

"Why would you say that?" He said, frowning his eyebrows to your shock.

"Oh, it's just... I don't know, I thought since you always go around alone and you're an..." You didn't finish your sentence, you just looked at him, not knowing how to fix your mistake.

"Wow, so you think no one could like me because of the things I like? You're fat and everyone thinks you're a slut, but I don't say those things to you" he spat back.

You stood up, he was in your house, insulting you, when you only wanted to get closer to him? "What the fuck? Wonbin, that's too much", he could reject you, but not like that. "Get the fuck out of my house" you told him, opening your door for him to leave your room. He stood up too, walking to you, and he was about to do it, to end that interaction and leave your house, until you talked again, "that's what I get for trying to help a fucking virgin."

The room got tense, you crossed your arms, waiting for him to leave, and he was glaring at you, still, as if he had any right to be mad with you.

His gaze made you uncomfortable after a long minute, he was watching you with a serious face you had never seen before, and the air was heavy, like taunting you, but you maintained the eye contact, not letting win.

"Apologize" he demanded, making you snicker, who the hell he thought he was?

"Or what? Virgin" you answered, tired of his little mind game.

His eyes didn't flicker, unmoved with your behavior, tired of your bullshit, he talked again. "Sit" he said, looking extremely pissed off, and you don't know why, but when you saw how his eyes got darker and his whole demeanor changed, you felt he was going to do something, and it kind of intimidated you, but it also made you curious, so you took your old spot without question.

He was coldly staring at you from where he was, then, he walked in front of you, standing while you sat there on your knees and looked up to him, not knowing why, but expecting him to talk or do something. "Do you think everyone is as easy as you? You should respect you and others more, no one likes a dumb slut."

You scoffed, not believing his words. "At least I get laid" you talked back with a grin on your face.

He showed you the same grin and grabbed your chin, making you look at him in the eyes, "do you really not know what they say about you? Everyone knows you're just a hole waiting for some dick to fill her, they all talk about it, how you're fucking disgusting, a fat bitch waiting for someone to look her way so she can get fucked, they say your pussy is so used you're not even fun to fuck anymore."

The way he said that sent a shiver through your back, hurting you and the little dignity you had, making your eyes get slightly wet, but you blinked and made those tears go back.

"Then why are you still here?" You spat, resentful with him, he wasn't the sweet boy you thought he was, and he was starting to agitate you.

"You need to see that not everything goes your way, and that you can't go around behaving like a dumb whore, it's not cute at all, but don't worry, after I finish with you, you'll be a good girl again, like when we met, before those jerks filled your brain with their stupidity" he said that so sure of himself, full of disdain, his shoulders suddenly appeared bigger and you felt small down there.

"What are you going to do, fuck me? Don't you think that's silly considering I brought you here for that?" He shook his head to your question.

"Believe me, what I'm going to do to you will make you wish you hadn't brought me here" You wanted to ask what he meant with that, but he had started to unfasten his belt, being clear on what he was about to do. "From now on, you can only talk if I ask you something, apart from that I want you to do what I tell you and shut up."

"What the-" you couldn't finish your sentence, his hand had been too fast for you to pay attention to it, and had slapped your face so loud the sound of it echoed in the room, leaving you shaken on your knees, and just how he wanted, silent.

"I've been clear, I hate stupid questions, you're a big girl and you should understand what I say when I say it" you hated him, you hated how he was treating you, you hated the tone of his voice, as if he had any authority over you, you hated him so much, or at least that's what you thought, you couldn't understand why suddenly there was a fire starting on your lower abdomen, and why your pussy was hurting so much you had to clench your thighs right there in front of him, "never forget it, I don't like to repeat myself"

You didn't move, not even a nod, he didn't ask you anything, so you stayed there in silence, on your place, making him smile in result, pleased with you.

"Now be good and come here", he had sat on the border of your bed and patted his lap, you saw the belt on his hand and your eyes got wet again, afraid of what he was about to do to you. Seconds went by and you didn't move, which made his face get a little red. He closed his eyes and sighed, annoyed with you, "you want me to get angry?"

You denied with your head, eyes big and frightened. You stood up immediately, in front of him, you were about to sit on his lap when he stopped you.

"Face down, ass up"

It couldn't be possible, was he about to spank you? What were you, a fucking kid?

You wanted to protest, feeling incredibly insulted, but with just a glance from him he made you do it, you lied over him, feet dangling in the air, ass in front of him over the expansion of his thighs, and your face down, hiding from him. Ashamed, you couldn't stop the little tears from falling down your cheeks.

His hand lifted the little fabric of your skirt and showed most of your skin, little of it covered only by the thin panties you were wearing, "What do you say, should we start with five? And I want you to count them out loud" you gulped, you had never been spanked before, even less with a belt, you had no idea how painful it would be and that made you feel anxious, your ass hadn't even been touched and you already felt your skin tingling and your pussy leak.

His hand grabbed your hair and he made you lift your face. Your cheeks were damp from your tears and your eyes found his, an exasperated look all over his face, glasses falling down his nose and tongue pushing the inside of his cheek, "do you want me to hurt you? Why aren't you answering?"

"No, I'm sorry" you answered, eyes shaking from his tone.

"Then talk, use your words, I told you to start with five, but now they'll be ten" his grip was hurting your scalp, and you wanted to cry because of how unfair he was being, but you didn't want to make him even more angry, so you accepted it.

"Yes, I'll count, I promise" you said how you could, your voice breaking in your throat.

He let your hair go and you sighed, relieved, but that didn't last long, his hand pried inside your panties, molding your ass with his hand, and then he cupped your pussy, so wet you could feel little drops falling out of you, "fuck, look at this slut, already dripping when I haven't even touched you", he pulled your panties down your thighs and you felt the air touch your naked cunt.

He caressed your skin, appreciating the size of your ass and its form, so round it invited his hand to grope it. He liked it, he always thought about doing it when you were in class, when you walked to the front to talk to the professor or to some of your friends, he stayed on his seat, watching it move from side to side with every step, teasing a place inside his mind he had never paid attention to, because he didn't know how much he could like a curvy girl until he met you, with your tight blouses showing the size of your chest, or your skirts that sometimes showed more than what was considered appropriate, but he always admired you from afar, everyone knew you had a type, those assholes addicted to the gym, and they always flew around you, not leaving anyone else an opportunity to approach you.

He actually liked that you invited him, but he knew you didn't like him, he saw it in your eyes, for you he was just something new and funny to play once, and he didn't want to be just a fuck, he wanted to be something else, when you met you were the sweetest girl he ever saw, sharing your notes with him and including him in work groups, but you changed, and you started to look at him the same way the others did, so you judging him was enough to push the little restraint he had, because no one, especially you, the campus whore, was going to insult him like that.

You were getting used to the felling of his hand touching your skin, even enjoying it, when you felt the first whip, "One!" You screamed almost like a reflex. You hadn't noticed when he grabbed his belt, but the sting of it over your bottom made you dizzy and your lungs couldn't accept the air you tried to breath for a long second, feeling a burning pain.

"Good, continue like that, don't get distracted" he adverted. You nodded how you could, arms and legs shaking from the impact.

"Two!" If you thought the first hurt, the second was even worse, the hot sensation had moved through your skin, burning more of it, almost until your thighs, nerves sending little shocks all around.

You felt the leather accessory brush your back and slowly go down to your ass, finding at some point your pussy lips, he didn't put any pressure over it, but your body moved on its own and lifted your hips, trying to make more contact against the belt.

"Needy whore" he called you, making your pussy throb and you whine.

He continued like that, spanking, teasing, and caressing. You felt your skin irritated, almost brazing, as if your live flesh was already there after all the hits, you were just in the seventh spank when you had cried loud enough for your voice to echo through the whole house, but no one was there, and even if you prayed, no one would be able to help you.

"Eight!" Your voice was loud and clear, tears uncontrollably falling down your cheeks and pussy clenching around nothing, his pants surely had a big wet spot after your pussy dripped all over them and you tried to find any way of pain appeasement rutting to his thigh.

You could feel his boner touch the side of your hip and you didn't need to see it to know it was big, and that, if he didn't fuck you after all those punches, you would suffer even more than with his spanks, because your pussy was so painfully untouched you would go crazy in any second.

Without noticing, you were already in the tenth hit, but before he did it, he opened your folds with his fingers, to see your poor cunt, it was so wet it was shining down then lights of your room, and the second he opened them a line of your wetness started to visibly drop down his thigh.

"Another rule, you can't cum if I don't give you permission" he said, middle finger tracing up and down your slit, poking your hole and then ignoring it to go to your clit and press it.

Your thighs were shaking, you wanted his finger to enter your cunt, you needed it, you wanted to beg but you were afraid of how he'd react, so you didn't, only nodding to him and his order.

The last spank arrived and you screamed the number full of pain, exhausted and somehow elated at the same time, it's over, you thought gladly.

But your body didn't think the same, with that last stroke your pussy had leaked and made a mess over his pants, and he angrily grabbed you by the hair to look at him in the eyes "I told you that you couldn't cum, stupid bitch" he spat, lips moving with fury.

"I didn't-I didn't, I swear" you cried, your hands were over your bed, trying to maintain you in the position he had pulled you to not be as painful as the first time.

"Shut up, now you're talking back? On all your fours" you crawled out of his lap, still wearing your stretched out panties mid thighs and heavily breathing.

You didn't dare to look at him, only hearing him move behind you, situating behind you and opening your ass cheeks with both palms, spitting over your little hole and making you jolt.

You trembled, what if he wanted to fuck your ass? You had never been fucked there, and just the thought made you gulp the saliva accumulating inside your mouth.

Did you want it or not? You didn't know.

"If you weren't such a slut I would've fuck you good long ago, but I thought you only liked steroid dicks, what made you change your mind?" He asked, thumb incredibly close to your little unused hole "have you ever been fucked in the ass?"

"I don't like them, they like me" you said, sound muffled by your pillow "and no, never."

He pressed his thumb, satisfied with your answer, pushing it inside your ass, making your pussy clench of need.

You moaned, no one had played with that place before, and your slick had lubricated you enough, making his touch feel even better, a weird but good sensation.

"Such a pretty hole, sadly you won't get fucked today" he slapped his length against your ass cheek, and you moaned again, you didn't know when he had taken out his dick, but it had you squirming, it felt big, and you were sure it'd hurt if he fucked you.

Your toes curled, it was so wrong, you shouldn't want him, you thought about asking him to stop, you couldn't let him use you, he was unpredictable, you would've never imagined the strength and authority he had, it was so different from his usual self, the Wonbin he had shown to the world wasn't this one at all, where was the lame otaku you shared classes with? You approached him because you thought he'd be soft and even weak, listening to anything you wanted, you just wanted some fun and to try something different, and this was different, but not the way you expected.

"What are you thinking about? I told you to not get distracted" he asked after some time, his hands kept moving around your curves, but when you stopped whining, he knew something else was in your head.

"Can-Can we stop? I'm sorry for what I said, happy?" you spoke, wanting to stop and rest, your ass cheeks were stinging, and you had no idea what was going through his head, which honestly made you fear of his next action, because if he wasn't going to fuck you, what was he going to do?

His hands stopped and you felt his weight fall behind you, eyes all over you, but you continued there, ass up, thighs closed and face against your pillow, waiting for him to talk.

"Okay" you couldn't believe it, you were free, you sighed, relieved for it to end. You stood up, arms and legs shaking, your underwear that was mid thighs fell down and you didn't care, you kick it out of your feet and pulled down your skirt, you were still dressed, so that was good enough for you, you didn't have time to pay attention to how dirty you were, slick dripping out of you with every movement, you just wanted to get out of your room as soon as possible, to hide in your bathroom and wait for him to leave with the protection of being alone in a secluded room, away from him.

You were about to give your first step when you felt a grip on your hair pulling you back with force to the bed, making your body fall on your back and yelp of surprise.

Your body bounced over the mattress, and you saw him laugh loudly, that same laugh you had seen many times before when you joked around him, but this time directed to you, "did you really believe me? You can fuck yourself with your fake ass apology, it only makes me think that I should really fuck the stupidity out of your head before you get worse".

You gasped for air, your chest was heavily trying to breathe again, and your heart was beating fast, full of fear.

"Now, be good and tell me where you have your vibrator, and don't you dare lie to me, dating all those one pump chump, I'm sure you haven't had a proper orgasm unless you played with yourself" even without his warning you wouldn't have lied to him, you knew better than that. You pointed the second drawer on your bedstand, making him grin.

It was magic wand, a powerful vibrator that you received as a gift from your friends, a friendly joke within the group, but you hadn't used it that much, too afraid of its intensity.

He didn't waste any time, he turned it on and the buzzing sound made you close your eyes, turning the front of your body down and grabbing your pillow for comfort, you knew he was a about to ruin you, and that there was no way of scaping him.

He came back to you and smacked your ass, your ass was red and irritated from his first punishment, and it hurt you like hell, making you scream loudly over your pillow, which muffled it as much as it could.

Still, he laughed again, and grabbing your hips he made you go back to your past position, on all fours with your face down, embarrassed from being like that in front of him.

You heard the buzz get closer to you and when it finally touched your clit you cried, you were sensitive after all the teasing and just a brush of it was enough to make your whole body jolt.

He was mocking you at first, pressing and pulling away in seconds, again and again, making you whimper from desperation.

"Don't forget, you can't cum until I allow you" his hand hit you again and you sobbed.

"Yes" you answered loud.

His hand touched your spine, making your back arch even more, pussy trying to find your touch.

He didn't wait anymore, he pressed the head of the toy against your whole cunt, making you moan loudly and hug tighter your pillow, your hips moving back and forth.

"Fuck that feels good" his dick was also against the vibrator, pushing the toy even more to you with his hips bucking, as if he was fucking you when he was feeling the same vibrations as you, a bit less intense, but still good against him.

It drove you crazy, it was insane how good you were feeling, and he wasn't even fucking your insides, you had no idea masturbation could be that intense, and with him, your face was flushed, your forehead sweaty, your hair was a mess, and you were leaking so much of your juices it was almost like you were cumming.

"Shit" your hips were frantically moving against him, ass jiggling and the perfect image of you fucking yourself, you crying of pleasure without stop, making his hand tighten his grasp on your waist, feeling the extra skin of your tummy with his fingers.

"Are you about to cum?" He asked, you were buckling your hips too much against him, which was a sign of it.

"Yes! Yes!" You said, the orgasm was so close you saw little spots when you closed your eyes and you wanted him to let you cum, you needed to cum.

He had other plans for you, so he pulled away, not letting the toy touch you anymore.

"Why?" You howled, shamelessly shaking your ass for him to press it again, receiving another spank as a result.

"You don't ask, you obey, so shut up" he stated. You bite your lip, tears falling and clit throbbing, it was so close, so close and so unobtainable at the same time, it made you feel hopeless.

"Take your top off and look at me" you obeyed him without doubt, you took your top and your bra off and sat on your knees, looking at him and still biting your lip to not talk when you shouldn't.

You were both sitting in front of each other, but he was completely dressed, just his dick out of his pants and his belt thrown away in some place in your room, while you, on the other hand, only wore your skirt, which had the front and back of it drenched from all your juices.

You showed him your tits, waiting for him to touch you and make you cum, it was sick, it revolved your stomach, but you needed that orgasm like you had no idea, now having tasted it so close, how could you let it slip away?

"Pretty slut" he said, both hands going to each tit and playing with them, fingers pinching your nipples to then grope them, making little tears fall your eyes, and when he slapped one of them, you felt even a worst sting on your breast than on your ass, making a heartbroken cry scape your mouth.

He loved that sound so much he wanted to hear it again, you breaking down it would be impossible for you to ever forget who was the cause of all those sounds.

He moved closer, now up on his knees and looking down at you. He was short, but in that moment, you saw him fucking immense, making you feel insignificant compared to him.

His hand went to your hair, you expected him to hurt you, flinching, but he pet you instead, ruffling your hair and nodding to you, "cum", he said.

You didn't understand why he said that, but then you heard the buzz of the toy again, getting close to your clit, making you smile and open your legs as much as you could to receive it.

It felt so fucking good, his hand on your hair was now a grip but you didn't care, you couldn't feel anything else that wasn't the toy against you.

However, it was weird, a pain was growing inside you, making you try to squirm away after some time, "No-", you tried to stop him, that weird sensation was still in your abdomen, increasing with each second, a hot pressure that made your pussy clench and throb strongly.

"I didn't ask you, I want you to cum, so you'll cum" he said, pushing the little button to the maximum, the power was so strong you chocked with your own saliva and you coughed before you could talk again.

"Wait! Wait!" You repeated, his grip on your hair was still there, strong, and your face was red of tears falling down your cheeks. Your pussy was being so abused your body had started to convulse and your hips jolted with every vibration of the toy.

Was that a real orgasm? You didn't know it would be so aggressive, you didn't know how it would feel, but it was almost like dying, a sensation that completely terrified you.

He didn't move a single inch away, he was biting his lip and his face showed a grin from ear to ear.

A pitched sound came out of your throat, you were cumming so hard streams of your orgasm were dripping down his hand and onto the bedsheets, but he didn't stop, and the overstimulation was starting to be more and more painful. You tried to move your hips away, but he didn't let you, his hand with the toy would follow your body, not letting you scape at all.

"Are you sorry now?" He asked after he finally pulled away the toy from you, letting you breathe and regain some of your consciousness.

You nodded to his question, you were sorry, you didn't mean to bother him so much, you should've thought twice before talking, you really didn't know your punishment would be like that.

His hand impacted on your cheek again, you couldn't move your head and he took advantage of that to give you a strong slap, shaking your mind and making your eyes blurry, and then, when you cried and loudly said you were sorry, he tapped softly the same cheek he had slapped seconds ago, "I told you, you're a big girl and you should use your words if you didn't want to make me mad"

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, I was bad, forgive me, please" you begged, sobbing and deeply regretting having teased him.

"That's the apology I was waiting from you, well done" he let your hair finally free, sitting next to you and jerking his cock with your orgasm on his hand. You, about to crumble over the bed, legs hurting and mind too hazy to think properly, only watched him moving his hand over his length. "I think you learned your lesson today, but you need more training, don't you think so?"

You should be disgusted with him and how he acted, your whole body was in pain, and you saw dark dots all around you, your eyesight full of them and at the same time focused on his hand and what he was doing, and you were sure your pussy and your ass cheeks would be in pain for many days later because of how much he abused you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to reproach him.

You had learned may things that day, and you should appreciate that, how you shouldn't judge a book for its cover, how you shouldn't misbehave and talk back, and that you didn't like big guys because they made you feel small, you just liked to feel small.

He had done a question, so you, just like he taught you, answered it, "Yes, I still have much to learn".

[l0ve-bug-m1les]

Miles Morales x Male reader

When the reader has dyslexia and has trouble with spelling certain words or just forget how to spell the most simplest words ever gets insecure about their learning disability and then falls into a depressive episode (which is just them distancing themselves from other (Miles) for weeks)

First off please let me know if i got some things wrong. I myself don’t have dyslexia, so please correct me on anything. And I hope you’re okay if you’re feeling this way. Sending love and Miles Morales your way! <33 But seriously if you need to talk I’m here, okay? I hope you enjoy!

————

Distence Distance

Miles Morales x Male!Reader

Summary: When it has once again been made apparent spelling isn’t your strong suit, your mind spirals out of your own control.

Warnings: Swearing

Your brow furrowed. Is it tom—orrow? Or tom—morrow? This shouldn’t be this hard. It’s a word. A simple word. But despite your best efforts, you can’t get it. Defeated, you lean over and quietly tap your finger Miles’ arm. He knows about your dyslexia, and helps you whenever things get a little tough. He’s never made fun of you, and has never acted like he was annoyed with you asking him how to spell things. This is quite a common occurrence, but recently, nothing seems to click. It can go from constantly spelling a word wrong, to forgetting how to spell completely. Miles tells you all the time to not worry about it, but what does he know! He doesn’t ask his boyfriend how to spell tomorrow every night!

"Hm? Oh, what’s up?” He looks at you, finishing whatever word he was writing. Your finger drags over to the roadblock on your paper as you mumble a small “Is this right?” Miles takes a look at your paper for a moment before softly shaking his head. “Ah, no, there’s only one m,” your shoulders slump, “but—uh—everything else was right!” His hands wave a little bit, trying to cheer you up. His eyes dart over you, searching for a reaction. A breath escapes your lips as you quietly thank him.

———

A few weeks later, Miles is proofreading your science paper. He’s got a red pen, and is occasionally writing his thoughts or correcting something. That’s to be expected, essays are about trial and error so of course it’s not gonna be perfect on the first try. What you don’t expect, is to find the pages covered with spelling corrections. You can’t even keep up with how many there are on the first page. As you look through, all you can see is what you got wrong. “Replace the i with an e”, “Erosion has one r”, “Con-VEC-tion, there’s a c”, “Don’t forget the—“. You quietly stop reading and get up to grab your things. Your thoughts are cloudy, even as Miles pulls you into a warm embrace to hopefully soothe your anguish. It doesn’t help.

“I gotta go,” you push away, “see you tomorrow..” Your feet lazily carry you out of his dorm room. Miles doesn’t protest. He knows sometimes being practically slapped with how much your disability affects you, doesn’t do you well. So he lets you go, knowing he’d see you tomorrow.

He couldn’t be anymore wrong.

———

Well he wasn’t entirely wrong. He did see you, but you had no intention to see him. Every glance he threw your way went unnoticed. Every time he tried to speak, your headphones went in. He saw your smile wasn’t there, and your usual glow was gone. All of these things worried Miles but he didn’t know what to do. His thoughts were focused around you for the whole day, and how he could help. In the end, he decided it’d be best if he just texted you. Maybe you just didn’t want to speak in person because of yesterday.

Yeah, that’s it. He’ll text you, comfort you, come over to your dorm, and cuddle and comfort you some more. A foolproof plan! Now all that’s left is to get through today.

———

You don’t respond to the first text.

You don’t respond to the second text.

You don’t respond to the third text.

You don’t read any of them. And he knows your read receipts are on.

Miles is frantic now. Where could you have gone? He knows you’d tell him if you were gonna be busy, and he knows he’d catch any signs of you thinking about….No. He wouldn’t let himself think about it. Maybe you just needed some space. It’s normal for a relationship, especially one as new as this. He decided to give it a day or two.

You’d come around eventually.

———

You didn’t come around.

It had been two weeks and Miles still hasn’t heard from you. You were still coming to school, but you arrived before everyone else, and somehow managed to get out before everyone left. If he tried to call you, it’d cut off immediately. If he texted you, it would stay on delivered—read if he was lucky—and if he tried to get into your room, you wouldn’t open the door. Even if your roommate was there, he’d always say: “Oh, [name]? Yeah he’s not here. Sorry.” Then the door would shut. Every day Miles tried. And every day Miles failed.

He’d spend his nights racking his brain for any clue, and reason for you to go a-wall like this. It’s not like you. Whenever something’s troubling you, he’d be the first to hear about it. For the millionth time, he tries to call your phone. And for the millionth time, you pick up. Just like he thought—

Wait what.

Miles sits up and hears quiet sobs on the other end. “H-hello? [Name]? Please answer me.” After a quiet moment you speak up. “Mhm?” Your voice is weak on the other end, but nonetheless, it’s your voice. Miles jumps out of his bed, already putting on a jacket and shoes. “Are you still in the dorms? Where are you?” He opens the window, waving to Ganke who’s woken up. “Please, love.”

“The park. The one we always go to.” Your voice is hoarse and hiccups are breaking through. “Alright. I’ll be there. Wait for me, okay?” He hops out the window and swings through the streets, keeping you on the line. At this point in time, Miles is a great swinger and has almost perfected the art. But tonight, he’s going faster than he’s ever gone before. Faster than his common sense would normally let him go. Even when making an escape, he’s careful to watch his speed just in case. Not tonight though. This is you. He’d risk everything for you.

In a matter of minutes, he’s at the park already looking for you. “[Name]? I’m here,” his eyes dart in every direction, “where exactly are you?” He jogs over to a nearby tree, catching a glimpse of a light from a phone screen. You’re silent for a few more moments as you can tell he’s the cause of those footsteps coming in your direction. So you just keep scrolling on your phone. Miles catches up to you, and before a word can be said, he’s fallen to the ground and pulled you into a hug. Possibly the tightest he’s ever hugged someone. And that’s the crack that sends the dam crumbling.

You break down and sob into his shoulder, clawing the fabric at his sides. The world no longer exists and it’s just you and him. You and the person who cares about you. You and the person who came for you. Miles’ grip tightens around your shoulders as stray tears escape his own eyes. “What happened? Why were you gone for so long?” He asks.

“I was tired of being stupid,” you manage to get out, “tired of being a burden.”

“A burden?!” Miles pulls away and cups your cheeks. “Now who told you that?”

“Don’t you understand, Miles?!” You shout. “I’m probably the dumbest person on this planet!!” He starts to object but you cut him off, “And don’t give me that “Oh but it makes you, you!” Bullshit.” You stand up and begin to pace around. “You can’t possibly wanna deal with me!” Your breath quickens and tears are still falling. “Couldn’t-couldn’t possibly wanna actually spend your life dealing with some who can’t spell for shit. Who’s always asking if he spelled—fucking i don’t know—Wednesday right.” You finally stop and stand in one place, hugging yourself tight. “I fucking hate it.”

Miles makes his way to you and pulls you into another hug. He doesn’t try to convince you otherwise because this isn’t the time. It’s time for you to let it all out, and for him to listen for as long as you need him to. He’s got you back and that’s all he needed. And right now you don’t know, but you needed him just as much if not more.

You two stay in the park and talk for what feels like hours. After two weeks of radio silence you’ve got a lot to say, and best believe your boyfriend is gonna take note of all of it.

🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸

A/n: OMG HOLY SHIT WHY DID THIS TAKE SO LONG OMG. @babyqueen17 HERE YOU GO IT’S DONE!!!