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l0v3tast3 · 2 years ago

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pervy neighbor!toji headcanons !

toji sets his sights on you and just can't look away!

✎ tags: mdni!, smut, female reader, maybe tw for stepcest (toji dates your mom)?, age gap (reader is college age, toji is probably late-30's), kind of dubious consent, infidelity, loss of virginity, unsafe sex, kind of obsessive!toji, pet names, breeding kink, corruption kink, dacryphilia, reader definitely has daddy issues (but no daddy kink)

✎ word count: 5k words (might have gotten a little carried away. but it's proofread!)

✎ author's note: something about jjk characters makes me have the worst, filthiest thoughts i've ever had, but i'm not upset about it. also genuinely surprised that this turned out to be 5k words i thought it would be like 2k max ( 〃▽〃) . . . toji brings out the best and worst in me <3

masterlist | requests

♡ when toji first lays eyes on you, it's sick how fast he starts thinking dirty thoughts. your mother and you are his new neighbors, coming over to say "hi" and introduce yourselves. your mother looked to be around his age, while you looked like you were probably in college (she must have had you when she was young like he had with megumi), but the way you half-hid yourself behind your mom wasn't helping you look any older.

♡ your mom makes you introduce yourself to him and you do so shyly, calling him "mr. zenin", barely making eye contact with the man that was a full head and a half taller than you. he smiles down at you and sticks out his hand, and after a moment you shakily take it, his engulfing yours completely. he could easily pin down both your hands with one of his. hell, he could pin down your whole body with one of his hands. he lingers a little too long, and you retreat a little further behind your mom after he lets go, your face an adorable shade of red.

♡ toji only half-listens to your mother rambling on, mostly just staring at you and being grateful that his shirt was long enough to cover his boner. he tuned in when she talked about how you went to college but still lived with her because it wasn't far. he also listened to when your mother mentioned her job took her across the country or even out of it a lot of the time. oh, so many thoughts were already forming in his head. toji could get quite creative when he wanted to.

♡ he can tell your mom is attracted to him when she juts out her chest and mentions her deadbeat ex-husband more than once. so he exchanges numbers with her and flirts a little. he's a single man, what else is he to do?

♡ toji figures out that, by the grace of god it seems, your bedroom is the one with the window directly across from his, and you don't seem to realize that your pink lace curtains are see-through. it really just kept getting better for him, didn't it? he absolutely watches your silhouette of you changing, watching your little figure take your shirt and shorts off, imagining he was in the room with you. if he were there, he wouldn't have to watch you put on other clothes. he would take off your clothes for you, probably rip them a little too (on accident, of course). he would make sure you didn't put anything on for a good long time, except maybe some cute lingerie. or a collar.

♡ he takes the time to work up to dating your mom. toji's a patient man, he can wait to get his hands on you. distance makes the heart grow fonder, right? and the better he gets to know your mother, the better he gets to know you, too. oh, she raves about you, of course! a model student and such a good girl, never getting into any trouble, always focusing on your schoolwork. you graduated top of your class in high school, and were on track to do the same in college. her baby was basically a genius! toji's heart swelled to hear about just how much of a good girl you were.

♡ it's not long before he's at your dinner table with your mother and you and a wonderful home-cooked meal. the woman that he's supposed to be looking at luckily talks enough that she doesn't realize toji is staring at you the whole time. you practically squirm in your chair under his gaze, hardly saying a word unless you were spoken to. he asks you normal questions, like how's school going, oh you're in your last year? any plans after college? he loves hearing your meek voice stutter out your answers. your mom has to tell you to speak up and you get that cute redness in your cheeks again, raising your voice just the slightest bit. you still called him "mr. zenin", so he tells you to just call him toji. you nod, but you don't actually say his name after that.

♡ at the end of the meal, he of course insists on cleaning up himself, and he's in the kitchen with a grin when he hears your mother telling you to help him clean up. you mumble something he can't hear, and your mom responds with "he is not scary, now go help him!" and he laughs a little. he'll make sure you aren't scared of him for long.

♡ you shuffle in with a few more dirty dishes and place them next to the sink, then look around for something to do before awkwardly picking up a rag and starting to dry what he had already washed. after a little bit of silence, toji strikes up some friendly conversation. "so, are you really liking college? your mom has been telling me all about how well you're doing. she's always talking about how much of a good girl you are," he says. the way your face once again got red was something toji needed to see more often. you seem to stop dead in your tracks and malfunction a bit when he calls you a "good girl", and you stutter something like "uh, yeah, it's- it's been good. she... actually said all that?" he wants to feel how you'll clench around him when he calls you a good girl as you take his thick cock. "yeah, she did," he says with a chuckle. "what? does she not say it to you a lot?" you shake your head no. poor baby, no one was telling you how great of a job you were doing. toji will, though. he'll praise you all night long when you manage to fit all of him inside you.

♡ he starts coming over more after that. he notices that (when asked first) you start telling him more about your achievements in college, like when you ace an exam or your professors write good feedback on your essays. and of course, he's always there to tell you what a great job you did; sometimes he adds in the words "good girl", just for fun. he even starts getting little smiles out of you, tiny at first, but they started spreading to your pretty eyes not too long after. you even start calling him "toji", finally. his name sounds so good coming out of your mouth, he wants to hear you say it while he's got his head shoved between your squishy thighs.

♡ it takes months, months of toji jerking himself off to every filthy thought imaginable about you, months of getting you to warm up to him, months of convincing your mother that he really was into her. it all pays off when the worst storm of the season rolls in. it's around 10pm when your mom calls him from halfway across the country, worried about you because she heard about the storm. apparently, you'll "freak out" if the power goes out. you get paranoid easily, she says. toji tells her not to worry, he'll check on you. he grabs his keys and coat and is knocking on your door within two minutes, albeit drenched in rain water. he sees you peak around the curtain of the window next to the door before you open it, asking him what he was doing here. "your mom asked me to check on you. says you scare easy." she was absolutely right, but you still huffed indignantly.

♡ you let him in, of course, and ask him if he wants a change of clothes. you say your mom probably has some of her ex's old clothes lying around that might fit him. he says sure and asks if he could shower, too. you stutter out a "yeah" and lead him to the bathroom, showing him where the towels and soaps were, accidentally brushing against him in the tight space. he can feel how intense your heartbeat is, just for a second. it makes toji want to smooth his hands all over your body, dig into the knots in your back and make it slow before he raises it even higher. you scurry off to your moms room to find a change of clothes for him.

♡ it takes you awhile to dig out something that might fit him, a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants. it takes you so long, in fact, that he's out of the shower with just a towel wrapped around his waist, opening the door just when you're about to leave the clothes on the floor. he thinks your nose might actually start bleeding when you see him shirtless, and it's the cutest thing he's ever seen. part of him thinks it would be funny to just drop the towel, but you scare easy. you hand him the clothes and speed-walk to the living room before he can thank you.

♡ toji gets changed into the t-shirt that clings to his skin and the sweatpants that are loose but will definitely show the imprint of his dick as soon he sits down. luckily, your couch has pillows. he finds you in the living room, your legs curled up to your chest as you look through netflix for something to watch. he plops down right beside you, making sure to grab a pillow for his lap, putting a foot up on the coffee table. you ask him if he's staying, and he says of course, what if the power goes out? do you know how to use the circuit breaker? you say you sort of do. he clicks his tongue and declares he's staying. you just hand him the tv remote and tell him to choose something to watch. you always let him take the lead with everything.

♡ it takes a lot of back and forth of him teasing you for never knowing what to watch and you just repeating "just put on whatever you want!", and when you finally do decide on something, the power goes out. you let out a squeak and instinctively press yourself closer to him, but he's wrapping an arm around you and saying softly that it's alright, it'll come back on soon. he can see your worried expression from the streetlights shining in faintly, and he reaches up to lightly pinch your cheek, muttering that you're so cute like this.

♡ "you think- you think 'm cute?" you ask quietly, and he nods with a smirk. "mhm, think you're adorable. such a pretty girl," he says, leaning in just a little closer. his large hand that takes up half your face is in your hair now, tangling his fingers in it and playing with it a little. you're so warm, heating up the more he touched you. his other hand rubs your back, slowly going lower, inch by inch. he can see his touch having an effect on you, a very, very positive one. your breathing gets a little bit quicker. he can feel your heartbeat through your back.

♡ "think you're the prettiest girl i've ever seen." the hand on your back is coming back up, to your shoulder and grazing past your neck to cup the side of your jaw and stroke his thumb over your soft cheek. "do you not think you're pretty, baby?" you definitely notice the pet name, but you don't say anything about it, just look down and shake your head a little. "oh, princess, can't have that now." he guides your head back up to make you look at him again with wide eyes. "i can show you. you're gonna let me show you how pretty you are, right baby?"

♡ you give a tiny nod and he kisses you, and god, toji is in love with your lips. they're so soft and sweet, and he can't help but move a hand to the back of your neck to pull you in deeper, greedily swallowing the little noises you made. he finds it cute how you struggle to keep up with him, how a whimper escapes you when one of his overly-sharp canines catches your lip. he wants to mark you all over with them, claim every part of your body as his, listen to you yelp when he sinks them in almost too deep.

♡ toji draws away and laughs when you try to follow him, taking in your dazed look, red lips shiny with his and your spit and blown pupils. "aw, sweet girl, you already look so fucked out. haven't even done anything to you yet," he mumbles as he starts kissing down your jaw and around your neck. the pillow is gone and he's picking you up effortlessly to put you on his lap, facing him. he's obsessed with how small you are compared to him. you're trying so hard to hold back more noises, and your hands go to his broad shoulders, as if you were going to push him away (not that it would do anything, he's got an arm wrapped around your back now). but you don't, you just gasp out a whiny "what about my mom and you?" and he draws back a little to look you in the eye, lips hovering just over yours again. "'m just showin' you how pretty you are, baby. she doesn't appreciate you enough, does she? i can, so much better, princess. we can keep it secret, right?" he says, his voice low and rumbling and you look hypnotized.

♡ you nodded a little with an "mhm" and he smiles, kissing you again. he takes his time with you, as agonizing as it is, but he needs to work you open. your mom was going to be gone for another few days still, and he had already waited this long. when he pulled away again he went straight to kissing down the other side of your neck, using his hand still in your hair to move your baggy shirt to expose more skin. he uses the other one around your waist to press you into him a little more and down enough to feel his hard dick through your shorts and his pants. it forces a little gasp out of you and your grip on his shoulders tightens, balling his shirt. "toji, i've never- haven't done this before," you mumble. he knows, of course, he knew it from the start, could practically smell it on you.

♡ "'s okay, princess, i'll go slow. i'll be so gentle with you, promise," he mumbles into your skin, his hands all over your body, in your hair and on your back and your arms and under your breasts, over your stomach. it's almost overwhelming to you. his hands end up grabbing you under your thighs, just below your ass, and you let out a yelp and wrapped your arms around his neck tight when he stands up with you. "c'mon, baby, can't show you how pretty you are in here." he brings you to your room, glad to see there's a little bit of streetlight coming in too here. he sits down on the edge of your cushy bed with you still in his lap, lathering your collarbone with attention.

♡ his hands are rubbing your hips, edging underneath your shirt and pressing you down more and more against his aching cock. "feel how hard you get me, sweet girl? 's cause you're so damn cute," he breathes, and he's so happy when you start shakily grinding down against him, your legs spread so wide by his. he's been waiting for this for so fucking long, and now he's finally in your room, finally inching your shirt over your head for you. toji's scar stretches with his smile when he sees you aren't wearing a bra, and he catches the arm that tries to cover yourself up. "mm-mm, princess, gotta see all of ya." he puts your hand back on his shoulder and uses his to grope the tit he's not sucking and nipping and licking at. your body twitches and a dainty hand goes to his hair, and you're finally moaning for him, whimpering his name when he tugs a little too hard with his teeth.

♡ the power comes back on on it's own just as your nipples are starting to get sore, your fairy lights taped around the edge of the ceiling lighting the room up with a soft glow. toji detaches himself from you and smiles. "can finally fuckin' see ya again, 'bout time," he mumbles, going right back to what he was just doing. you whine and your grip on his hair and shoulder get a little bit tighter, but his hands don't let you move in any direction except closer to him. he keeps going, too busy thinking about how gorgeous your tits will look when they're swollen with milk, how sweet they already are and how much sweeter they will be, until you tug on his hair a little and say his name between sharp breaths. he finally lets up and his hands go to your waist and hips.

♡ he helps guide you while you grind down on him, just taking in how you close your eyes and let out sweet little gasps whenever he bumps your clit through your shorts and underwear. "gonna let me take these off of ya, sweet girl?" he murmurs, his hands massaging your thighs and ass, waiting impatiently for you to nod again before he picks you up again and lays you down on your bed. he's just glad it's a queen size; enough space for him to fuck you most ways he wants.

♡ he follows your shorts and underwear down your legs with his mouth, committing all your embarrassed squeaks to memory. you try to close your legs once he has everything off but of course he doesn't let you. toji's smile doesn't leave his face while he's taking your thighs in his hands to spread them apart, leaving one to smooth a hand over your belly. "prettiest girl i've ever fuckin' seen," he says again, watching his hand go to spread your little pussy apart. his thumb grazes your clit and your hips jerk and he laughs. "so damn sensitive. never had anyone down here, baby, not even to eat this pretty pussy out?" you can't even look at him when you shake your head. if it's possible, his dick gets even harder. "good. dumbass frat boys couldn't ever do it like i can."

♡ once toji finally gets his mouth on your soaked cunt he doesn't think he's capable of stopping. you're practically dripping onto the bed, and he's there to lick every drop up, swallowing it happily and coaxing as much more as he can out of you with his tongue. your body is already writhing, you already have your hands in his hair, you're already crying out for him, and he's in a state of euphoria.

♡ he stops for a moment and you're about to ask what's wrong before he's muttering about how the bed is "too damn short" and you're being dragged down to the edge. your noise of surprise turns into a gasp when he starts sucking on your clit again, now kneeling on the floor. toji throws your legs over his shoulders and holds down the top of one to keep you in place, his other hand coming back to your pussy. his middle finger is slowly sinking into you and he moans into you when he feels how tight you are; his hand is never going to be enough to get himself off after this. when he starts working in a second finger you cum; you can feel it everywhere in you, taking over your body and your head (you think you may get addicted to this, to toji doing this to you).

♡ of course, toji doesn't stop after you've cum once. he gives you a little break, despite being so close to breaking himself. he's so close to letting himself loose on you, so close to digging his fingers in just bit too hard and sinking his teeth in too deep. somehow, he manages to just rub your hips and nip at your inner thighs. you mewl out his name and try to pull him back up to you but he doesn't budge, instead laughing and shaking his head. "not yet, princess, you're still way too tight." he pushes two fingers back in, his mouth hovering back over your clit. "wouldn't want to rip you in half, would we?" you stopped listening the second he started back up on your still-sensitive clit, throwing your head back and grabbing his hair again. "ah-h, toji, wait-!" he wasn't listening either.

♡ he doesn't let up until he makes you cum with three fingers (twice) and you're nearly crying from overstimulation. the only words you seem to be able to form at this point are "toji" and "please", and toji thinks this is his new favorite version of you. eventually, when he runs out of patience and he deems that it won't hurt that much, he finally lets you come down from the high he'd kept you on. he leaves one more mark on your thigh before he stands up to strip himself down quick, releasing a breath of relief when his aching cock is finally freed.

♡ it takes a moment for toji to decide how to take you. in all the months he waited and thought about this, he never could decide on this part. he would have you ride him, if your legs weren't still shaking. he decided to just say "fuck it" and go with missionary; easier to see your cute expressions like that. toji moves you back up the bed and climbs over you, smiling and cooing down at your watery eyes and his favorite shade of red painting your skin. he wraps your legs around your waist and brings his hands to cup your face again.

♡ "aw, what's wrong, baby? you were beggin' me for somethin' just a minute ago, what was it? hm, princess? c'mon, use your words." you mumble out a little "please", and toji shakes his head. "'please' what? you want more, 's that what you're tryin' to say? c'mon baby, tell me you want more," he says, one of his huge hands grabbing your jaw, putting the lightest amount of pressure on it. your eyes widen a bit and you nod, squeaking out a "more, toji, please!" and his cheeks start to hurt from how wide his smile grows.

♡ he took a moment to appreciate the view of his dick resting heavy on your stomach, a before-shot of how deep he'll reach inside of you. his head came to just below your belly button; toji could have came just from that. he notices you're still just looking at him and he takes one of your hands and wraps it around his cock for you, and you finally look down at it. he wishes he could take a picture of your face, it's both hilarious and incredibly cute. "toji, 's not- not gonna fit," you mumble as he moves your hand up and down it. he laughs a little. "we'll make it fit, princess, don't worry." he's gathering both your hands now in one of his and pinning them over your head. "it'll only hurt for a minute, then it'll feel so good, baby, i promise. not gonna want me to ever stop." toji rubs his dick through the folds of your pussy, covering it in your own arousal, his head brushing your clit and making you whine. "all ya gotta do is lay here all pretty and take it for me, you can do that, right baby? i know you can, bein' such a good girl for me." you're melting and practically dripping from his words and he lines his head up to start pushing into you.

♡ your hands squeeze his just about as tight as your tiny pussy does around the head of his cock once it pops in. toji kisses you and moans while you gasp, and he pushes in a little more, and you already feel like this would be enough. he's so thick; his fingers had felt so big to you, but now that just made you feel dumb. he draws back an inch just to push in two more and your legs are tightening around his waist. you're making cute little noises while he pushes your jaw up to mark more of your neck. he's everywhere, surrounding your entire body with his, not giving you an inch to move. you feel him everywhere, inside and out, and he's so deep inside you, and he still has a couple inches to go.

♡ his hips finally meet your thighs and toji thinks he's found heaven. he was so elated to have you how he wanted you, ecstatic that his months of work had finally paid off. he stops sucking on your neck to come nose-to-nose with you, his hold on your jaw loosening so he could thread his hand through your hair. "ohh, fuck, pretty girl, you're doin' so fuckin' good, bein' such a good girl for me," he breathed with a smile and hooded eyes. "does it hurt, princess? 'm sorry, it'll go away soon, baby, i promise. gonna feel so good in a minute. feels so good around me, so much better that i ever thought- shit, baby," he chokes out a moan when you're squeezing even tighter around him and you whine, trying to move your hips to get him to move.

♡ he starts moving, and he swears he tries to go slow, but it admittedly doesn't take long before he's really fucking you. "takin' it like a fuckin' champ, baby, my god. feels so fuckin' good. never leavin' this pussy, fuckin' never, princess. hah, sweet girl, don't squirm so much, how am i supposed to find all your good spots like that? that's it, baby, just take it for me. such a good fucking girl." his mouth gets filthy and it just doesn't stop running while he fucks any air and any thoughts out of your body. he's too deep, there's too much of him but it's so good that you just don't care. it's so much better than you thought it would be, toji makes it so much better than you thought it would be.

♡ you cum before long and he fucks you through it, holding your jaw to keep eye contact with you the entire time, obsessed with the tears threatening to fall from your wet lashes. he slows down as you come down and you think he's mercifully giving you a break when he pulls out, despite your cry of protest that he wants to make his ringtone. then he's picking you up and standing up with you to sit in front of your floor-length mirror with your back to his chest. "don't ya remember, baby? i gotta show you just how pretty you are," he says in your ear as he digs his hands into your hips and ass tight enough that there will definitely be bruises, but he's lining you up and pushing you down on his cock before you can whine about it. you're clawing at his arms and reaching behind you to grab his hair while he keeps sinking you down, and he watches with a salacious grin.

♡ "see, princess, see how pretty you are? bouncin' up and down on my cock like you were fuckin' made for it, you were, weren't you? fuckin' perfect fit. you look so perfect taking my cock, such a pretty girl. prettiest fuckin' girl i've ever seen. no, no, don't look away baby, watch how good you take my dick inside your tiny little pussy. that's it, princess. this pussy is mine now, right, baby? right? yeah, all mine now. gonna ruin you for any other man on the fuckin' planet."

♡ you came again and toji wasn't far behind you after that, practically using you like a toy at this point. you did your best to cling to him, but the only thing you could do in his hold was to watch and feel his fat cock bullying in and out of your pussy. babbles and moans were all you could manage now, and the only thing that would have made toji happier was if he had his phone in his hands to record it. he'd have plenty of chances later, anyways.

♡ "gonna let me cum in your pretty pussy, baby? aww, hah, too cock drunk to speak, huh? did i fuck you dumb already? mm, like you like this a lot, princess. so sweet for me. i'll fill you up with my cum as a reward, how's that sound? ha! your pussy likes that idea! squeezin' me so damn tight, you like that idea, don't you pretty girl? ohh, just be good and take it, just like that baby."

♡ he slams you down all the way on his cock and wraps his arms around you, grinding up into you hard, and you feel your belly get warm and somehow you feel even more full. you go limp against him, closing your eyes and whimpering with every twitch of his hips. it's just the mix of your heavy breathing for a few moments before toji's sitting back up from curling you both forward, looking in the mirror again.

♡ "aww, c'mon baby, you're letting it all leak out," he says, his voice gravelly and a bit heavier than before. when you don't open your eyes fast enough, his hand is in your hair and pulling it to make you look at where his cum is leaking out of you around his cock. and he's still hard.

♡ "guess i'll just have to fill you up again to make up for it, huh, pretty girl?"

#jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x female reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #tw stepcest #— lilly writes! ♡

4K notes · View notes

alexisomnias · 1 year ago

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— "HEY, HEY CLASSMATE!" . . .

⤷ you’re their seatmate!

angels notes: can be read as platonic or romantic

featuring the DORMLEADERS

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

—riddle as a seat mate is kinda a pain in the ass

—Especially during his first year; boy would scold you for breathing too loud!

—Upon second year though he’s a lot more mellowed out

—Your one of the only people who WOULD take a seat next to him, and in exchange he helps you with things you don’t understand.

—He also won’t speak a word if you copy off his homework… just don’t make it too obvious!!

—He’d also save you if your late to class by making up an excuse or such, but shh don’t tell him you know how down-bad he is for you.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

—goodluck getting him to even show up to class

—if he does he’s literally only coming for you. he’ll ask you to take notes for him and stuff but wont complain if you don’t

—in the end he does only show up to class because your next to him, so be sure too show up yourself!!

—if he catches someone else in the seat next to you he is LEAVING, or kicking them out, no way is he sitting through the class without you by his side

—he’s not that awful of a seatmate: he’s familiar with the material so if he's in a particularly good mood he’ll help!

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

—boy probably made a deal with some student to ensure he’s always sitting next to you. doesn’t matter what class he’s there

—totally believes in unassigned signed seating so will talk off someone if they take HIS spot next to you

—definitely helps you with your homework. in fact he encourages you to come to him for help (he wants you to know you can use him as a shoulder to lean on)

—also will make up an excuse on why your late, except its hella valid

—probably shares a textbook with you ngl, and definitely shares his notes

—definitely will share his school supplies. need an eraser? he has 3! a pencil? heres a newly sharpened one!

—probably will try extra hard to show off, he wants to impress you

—(he’s also extremely vigilant on whether his handwriting is neat or not when your next to him!!)

KALIM AL ASIM

—he’s such a fun seat mate. though he’s very distracting LMAOO

—definitely gets you both in trouble for talking during a lecture (he doesn’t care though, its you!)

—completely forgets about taking notes because he just wants to chat with you

—probably has been moved in class

—will buy you a thousand pencils so you never have to sharpen one LMAO

—drags you into group projects with him and stuff, he’s pure at heart, really!!

—actually pretty insightful, he’ll exchange answers with you, and go into convo about how you came up with such an opinion or answer

—“hey this is [name]’s seat!” he says to this poor clueless student. he’s your desk warden aha!

VIL SCHOENHEIT

—Vil is actually a good seatmate! he shows up on time, always hands in his work. has academic plot armor (has he ever failed??) and he’s willing to help! though he’ll still make you do it yourself

—he brings you snacks during class! only healthy ones of course, but he feeds you and he’s super sweet about it too! Literally that one friend that always shares their food for lunch

—definitely someone to look up too, and he’ll teach you concepts or help you catch up if you fall behind. He's your personal free tutor, he uses these sessions as excuses to see you, not gonna lie!

—he may occasionally scold you based on how you present yourself, especially if you are lazy with it, but its all out of care! He'll fix it himself anyway. He personally loves running his fingers through your hair.

—not seatmate behaviors :P he cares

IDIA SHROUD

—hes more of a text mate tbh

—bro will send u messages on twstcord and get you caught 😭😭

—he doesnt even show up in person hes just there to listen atp

—even then he ADORES listening to you talk, and although he really doesn't need help with homework since you know he's there?? he'll still ask you to bring homework to him because he's petty and he wants to see you.

—and if he invites you to a "study session" its really just him stammering over his words and playing video games

—oh god, he also imagines physically sitting next to you in class, and reenacting scenes from a shoujo! actually, nevermind... too many people...

MALLEUS DRACONIA

—Malleus finds you interesting. you have enough courage to sit next to him? how interesting

—literally the only one in class who doesn't sit like 5 kilometers away from him. He immediately grows a liking to you because of that.

—he’ll talk to you in class unknowingly getting you both caught LMAO, except your the only one getting in trouble unfortunately.

—he’ll have in dept conversations to you about certain topics, and almost always has an answer to give you in class

—he’s an encyclopedia, and he LOVES helping you! ask and hes already explaining.

—probably gets distracted by staring at you in class. Not sneaking glances, full on dazedly staring at you (in a totally not menacing way). he just likes looking at you! don't mind him!

—a sweetheart really, also super possessive over your seat. he ensures he's always on time to class so he can see you and sit next to you, and he’ll get all pouty if he cant.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia #suns pencil.

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xerotiny99 · 8 months ago

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Antiserum D // Loving Professor Jeong #1

Antiserum D (Loving Professor Jeong series #1) Professor/College au.

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x (f) Reader [ft. Choi San & Song Mingi]

Warning: smut, prof!yunho, dom!yunho, sub!reader, student!reader, age gap, teasing and suggestive actions, size kink, big dick Yunho, dirty talk and pet names (master and pup), blowjob/throat fucking, spanking, rough sex, unprotected sex, edging, creampie and dacryphilia.

Note: do not proceed if you're uncomfortable or triggered by the mentioned tags. Also note the age gap tag, here the reader is 21 and Yunho is 32, which makes it 11 years of gap.

Side Note: this series will contain 'hyung line' as the professors and the 'maknae line' as minor characters; except for Choi San and Song Mingi, these men are cheeky so look out for them. Again, as my other series, 'the reader' does have a name, i.e, Lee Sherri. Nicknames are bound to follow, so don't worry. I only write names in my oneshots because it's too annoying to write [y/n] everywhere and it ruins my flow of writing. Anyway, enjoy!

Gist: you had a rival in college, yes you did. It wasn't a student, rather the person you hold your grudges against is one of your professors. Now, you're in your senior year of bachelor's degree, running late for a morning class—knowing well he takes this class, what do you think the consequences would be?

Word Count: 12,164

'My dog died.'

No, you don't have a pet!

'My bus was late.'

You live on-campus.

'The coffee shop was crowded.'

You don't freaking have a cup in your hand!

'Umm, I overslept.'

Well, he doesn't need to know the truth.

He really doesn't need to know the truth to why you were running late to his morning class. As time would have it, you did oversleep; lethargic from last night's meaningless meandering from bar to bar, in search of your sober soul, you surely had forgotten about your morning class the next day. Weekends are supposed to be lax and diverting. They're your only shot at having a good time with your friends. You weren't going to let your fear of being reprimanded by your 'favourite' professor stop you from having the fun you deserved. The weekdays were long, tedious and dull with all the lectures and practical sessions to attend.

You're sprinting up the stairs to get to your department; the science building is supposedly long and encompasses all other departments falling into it. Your department (zoology), moreover, your class was situated on the second level of the building. Meeting with the long hallway on your way, which apparently was the physics department, you turn a corner and are merged with another long hallway leading to yours. The grotesque stench of formaldehyde hits your nose the moment you walk past the junior laboratories of your department; that's where they were trying to preserve biological specimens, the 'tingle-your-spine' kind. There are lecture halls and laboratories on one side of the long hallway, while the other side was an open space with concrete railings and pillars; this space opened into the botanical garden the botany department had been tending to, so it housed large trees, a decent number of shrubs and flowering plants, including a variety of cactus and other succulents.

Rushing in your steps, holding your tote bag close to you, your eyes scramble past the open space and the garden onto the walking street of your campus; it was borne with trees on both sides, and amidst the thicket of greenery you find the main building of psychology department. You almost heave out a laugh, reminiscing of the last night when your best friend (who studies psychology) was drunk out of his mind and had been making out with a lamppost. You pull yourself out of that daze, increasing the pace of your sprint to get to your laboratory.

First red flag of your day, the doors to your lab were open wide. Second, your supposedly 'favourite' professor was midway through an explanation about the experiment you were going to perform today. And third, you were technically thirty minutes late to the lab.

Quiet on your feet, you try to sneak inside; the structure of your lab was a little different, with sitting desks on one side of it, and workbenches on the other. In retrospect, this was your senior year's class where apparent lectures took place, and the workbenches were designated for less involved experiments. At the very front of your class/lab is a podium, a chalky black board, and a desk for professor. You glance at the front after realising all students had occupied the workbenches, you catch up on the glimpse of Professor Jeong carrying on with his explanation till his eyes meet yours.

"Miss Lee," he grumbles, amidst his explanation, "sneaking in—" mumbling he checks the time on his wristwatch, the sleeve of his coat riding up, "—a total of thirty minutes late. You better have a good reason."

He folds his arms over his chest, and stares down at you. While you halt midstep into the class, standing straighter you clear your throat and feel your mind stutter looking at him. Why did he have to dress so provocatively? And the outfit in concern was his beige coat and matching pants, a white long sleeved turtleneck underneath; you didn't quite like how your heart was palpitating watching him, keenly grazing your thirst-filled eyes across his face, noticing the shine on his black rimmed glasses and the plumpness of his pink lips.

"Miss Lee?" he repeats, only to get you squeaking, "yes, professor—uh yeah, I was late because my alarm did not go off in the morning..."

He hums in contemplation, eyes narrowing on you before he sighs and shakes his head, "occupy one of the workbenches and do not touch anything before I tell you to."

You nod, pressing your lips tighter to prevent any sound from escaping your throat; you were certainly anxious and embarrassed to be late, but more precisely you were humiliated in front of your class for coming up with such a lame excuse. Sighing, you stuff your tote bag in your locker at the back. You quickly slip on a lab coat over your outfit, bubbling with disappointment as it was hiding your nubile outfit. Knowing you were running late, you still made extreme efforts to dress yourself up—the reason was quite overt, because you wanted to dress up for yourself—you wore a white blouse under a pastel blue sweater vest and paired it with grey skirt which rode up till your mid-thighs. The lacy thigh-high socks were just an added accessory to make yourself seem cute considering you also had a blue ribbon in your hair, holding it in a high ponytail.

The only workbench unoccupied is the one situated at the very end and far from either the professor's desk at the back near the lockers and the podium from where Professor Jeong was reading every movement of yours. When you get to your designated place, you glance at the workstation to take note of the apparatus, before glancing next to you, finding the most obnoxious person you could. Choi San, Choi freaking San was offering you a guileful smile, one whose intentions did not appear to be right, or even ethical.

Bastard.

"So, Miss Lee is late because she couldn't hear her alarm go off? Pathetic," he rolls his eyes, folding his arms over his chest, his own lab coat creasing by the elbows with his plaid shirt peeking from beneath. "I don't believe you—oh well, but I wonder what your favourite professor would think about you when he knows you were getting pissed drunk last night with your friends."

You weigh his words in your mind for a second before furling back a reply. "Aww, Sannie. If you're so desperate to get in my inner circle, just say so. I didn't know you would be so jealous of us..."

San's smile turns into a curve of amusement, "jealous of you? Me? Jealous?" he scoffs, "darling, you're dreaming. If I wanted to be in your inner circle, I would've just slept my way through it."

"Really now?" you retort, smiling softly, "slept with whom?"

"An easy prey to seduce would be you—" he clicks his tongue, "—if you can be so impressed by that..." he nods his head toward Professor Jeong, "...then I believe you'd be swept off your feet if I genuinely try to."

"You put yourself on such a high pedestal, Sannie," you muse, shaking your head lightly, "do you really think my standards are set so low to be dazzled by you?"

"Oh, only time would tell, Miss Lee," he rolls his eyes, keeping his sly smile on. "Maybe, you would get infatuated with me or give into your temptations."

"Ahh, such a dedicated wishful thinker you are," you snide, heaving a low chuckle, "the only thing I'm tempted to do is throw a chair in your fucking face—"

"Miss Lee!" you flinch in your skin, body spasming to the deep and coarse voice of the professor. Hesitant in yourself, you peek up to face him, finding him glaring at you without a twitch on his face. "You certainly are not going to pay attention to my class, then why waste my time? You're free to leave. I don't hold my students captive; the ones passionate about learning find a way to attend my class in any way they could."

Your cheeks heat up, turning a shade of faint cherry red; embarrassment licks your spine and head lowers itself, you won't forget this moment ever. San is busy staring at you, feeling a little guilty but of course he won't let you know that. Shortly after, you glance back at the professor, noticing him staring at you with his lips in a scowl and his eyes piercing through you. That alone, that look alone was enough for you to quiver in your shoes; his persona had always been the intimidating kind, the kind who is self-possessed and doesn't really bother himself with the rest of the world.

Professor Jeong wasn't fazed by anything, not even by the number of female students crushing on him in your department, rather in your class alone. He didn't acknowledge their stupefyingly sexual or overly sensual approaches, turned them down if he thought they were invading his privacy. You took that as a challenge; maybe, maybe not. Your rivalry with him wasn't because he was unapproachable or a forbidden fruit to taste, it was because he always found a way to rattle your senses and make you the fool.

You remember it as clear as a day, at the beginning of your senior year, the very first semester—attending his class on genetics, you were simply taken off by him and his way of speaking. His personality was homely, strict where it should be, however. Amidst his lecture, he caught you talking and joking around with your bench-mate and questioned you about the topic he was teaching.

"If you can yap useless things, then why don't you enlighten me with the working of gel electrophoresis, hmmm...?"

It stung. But not more than him adding, "I'm even surprised you could answer. Maybe you should focus yourself more on your academics than other things."

Other things? You realised he was making comments on your appearance, the way you were dressed, the way you had streaks of gold stitched in your hair, the way you always had playful make up on—he judged you based on that, and thus the profound feud between him and you began. After that, you would intentionally skip his classes and not make an effort to attend them; even the practical sessions, except for the mandatory ones where you would bite your tongue and listen to him demeaning your entire existence for not setting the microscope right.

"Alright, now that I'm done explaining the principle and bits of the procedure, you may follow the same with your partners; if you're muddled with any concern then heed my name." He announces out loud, stepping down from the podium.

You raise your head, further listening to his footsteps dither across the floor to the back of where another table had been put up for teachers' comfort. Though, that's what you thought. The mellow sound of his boots takes an unassuming turn to your row of workbenches, taking you off guard. You're trying to find the meaning behind his detour. Also, you had been oblivious from the start that this practical is supposed to be performed in pairs. And you had no one. Because you were late. Even the slow-witted and stolid transfer student, Reagan Keith had a partner; and her partner was San himself, something you definitely did not see coming.

"Miss Lee," Professor Jeong clears his throat, standing next to you, "I suppose you do not have a partner because of your tardiness, and I happened to pair all my students prior to you, which leaves me no choice but to perform this particular experiment with you. So now, take a brief look at the blackboard and what I've etched on it, try to understand it. Once done, we can surely proceed."

You nod, contemplating, biting your cheek, unable to comprehend the proximity between you two. The dense musk of his scent is wafting all your senses—the redolent scent of vanilla and cinnamon is a deadly concoction to drive you wild. His warmth is superficial, yet the kind which melts your mind with stupefying possibilities, just how he could be—you need to keep your thoughts clean and chaste. Still, you suppress your mind to a corner and peek at the blackboard, studying his neat hand etched on it. The title gave you the rough idea of what you're supposed to do.

'Determination of blood groups.'

Ahh, the title itself foretells the coming inevitable mishap is going to involve blood and blood lancets; you aren't so fond of the needles—no, it wasn't a phobia, you weren't fond of pricking yourself with the help of those lancets. The blue rounded capsules which compassed a sterile needle underneath was beyond torturous to you.

You heave out a deep breath, understanding the further procedure he had inscribed on the blackboard. Familiar with few terms, such as the usage of antiserums, and principle behind the entire procedure, you were relieved. Way more than relieved to know this wasn't something out of your expertise. The nurturing thought of you actually explaining it to him however was too heavy to bear. You clear your throat, fumbling in your words as you dart your eyes anywhere else but at him.

"Yes, Miss Lee, are you done gandering at the procedure?" he gawks, bewildered as if and continues, "now, please enlighten me with the steps so as to we can proceed with the experiment."

"We—we are determining the blood—blood groups," you stutter, not knowing where that came from, you turn your attention onto him, stifling a gasp upon noticing him leaning close to you.

"Go on, Miss Lee," he prompts you with a soft nudge of his head. "I'm sure having to palaver about for the entire day, you could at least narrate the steps to me. All I need is your guidance."

He's playing you again.

"Alright, I will—" your breath hitches in your throat—you witness him effortlessly shrug his coat off, revealing nothing of his skin but the long-sleeved turtleneck he wore under.

"Hmhm, yes...?" he instigates, putting his coat off to a side while he rolls the sleeves of shirt over till his elbows. "What's the first step?"

"Sterilisation." you mutter under your breath.

"Sterilisation of what, Miss Lee?" he teases, keeping a straight; his pushes his glasses further up his nose, which had apparently slipped off a bit.

"Sterilisation of the subject area."

"Okay, tell me which area is most suitable for this test?"

You nod, swallowing thickly as your eyes never leave his. "The tip of the middle finger."

You weren't going to waver, not even when his soft brown eyes were speaking the unbearable at the moment; how can he do that? How can he momentarily torment you with a sly curve of his lips or by the detrimental facade of his eyes?

"And why is that?"

"Tendon sheath—uh, the middle finger has tendon sheath which only limits it to the fingers; as for the thumb and pinky finger, the sheath extends a little further to radial bursae and ulnar bursae—so in case any infection occurs it'll be restricted to the middle finger unlike the thumb or pinky which can lead to the heart." You try your best to explain, forgetting how to breathe in the process.

"You know your stuff," he murmurs, his voice low and cold, "do you see any sterilisation pads on your table?"

Looking around your desk, almost immediately, your eyes lurk on a beaker full of 70% ethanol and cotton swabs. You bring the beaker close to you and reach out for the forceps placed next to it; extending the beaker toward to him, you clear your throat, hoping he'd get on the cue.

"Miss Lee, I'd very much appreciate if you were to perform all the steps involving this practical."

"Right—okay, so..."

You drag your words into a whisper, holding the palm of his hand in yours, while other picks out a cotton swab with the forceps. The piece of cotton rolls to and fro on his skin, rubbing gently. Hearing him wince at the cooling sensation of ethanol against his skin, you stifle a chuckle and let out a sigh; once you were done with sterilising, you reach out for the blood lancets. Picking out one, you rip the cap off to reveal a sterling needle shining with a sharp point.

"Have you done this before, Miss Lee?" he questions as he watches you hesitate with the blood lancet. "Pricking yourself is quite different from pricking others, isn't it?"

You nod because you knew how different it was. In actuality, you're scared. You always were terrified to prick yourself with the needle whenever you were required to and it was mostly during your practical classes involving forensics. The high possibility of piercing your professor's skin, past the point till where it's necessary, was an untold fear you couldn't overcome. But, as you glance up at his docile face adorning an encouraging smile, in addition to the haughty glint in his eyes, you are much more prepared for the consequences.

"I am absolutely terrified when it comes to pricking myself—what if I..." your glance at his hand, then dart your eyes to his, feeling a breath hitch in your throat.

"You won't hurt me," he reassures you, later on compelling you with his words, "any day now, Miss Lee."

The racking nerve in your head forces you to take a deep breath and you're hauling the pointed tip of the lancet close to his finger. You know it takes one sudden nick to break the skin, and you also know you're supposed to be careful and swift with it. Hesitation breaks your conscience, you're still in two minds, still wondering if this was a good idea. Regardless of your abrupt cold feet, you let the lancet pierce through his skin, drawing out a ceaseless stream of blood; Professor Jeong is heedful of his bleeding finger and proceeds to make three blobs of blood on a microscope slide.

He puts the slide back, the glass clinks against the table but it melts into your thoughts—you were ogling him. You notice his veiny hand trembling softly to the unbridled tremors from the cut on his finger, it was attractive. You wouldn't mind admitting it, he has great hands—and sadly, you had a fetish. Trapping your lower lip between your teeth, you admire the little things about him; the proximity faltered to nothing, gave away how spotless his skin was, how sublimely luscious his lips were, and how the tiny specks of green in his eyes were far too evident in the sea of umber. Though, his hands were all you could think about; his porcelain skin, the bulging veins wrapped around his knuckles while they branched further down his hand—uff.

"Miss Lee?" he calls out, snapping his other finger, "please pass me a cotton swab, I need to clean myself."

You were brought back to the reality, seamless kind, a little vapid where you were impelled to keep a safe and healthy 'professor-student' relationship with him.

Hold up!

Where in the world did that come from?

The thought of having something more than 'professor-student' relationship with him.

You and him?

That's a little...

Far-fetched.

Unless...

There was...

There was a way to vex him.

You look back to all the times he's devalued your existence during his classes. The haughty remarks which rolled off his tongue with so much ease to belittle your short-lived efforts in any of his class, or perhaps, in any of the activities your department would plan. A spark in your mind strikes you in a way you couldn't quite explain, but you know you're finding yourself tighten your grip on his wrist. It's oddly satisfying, it's benign in your mind—though, the tiny bulb of tease was going on and off every second you spent staring at him.

There goes nothing.

Without hesitating you bring his hand close to your mouth, your tongue darts out the minute his bleeding finger finds its way in your sight, and you lick up a stripe to clean the blood off his finger. You hear him gasp, a sharp intake of breath which already told you he was bothered by your actions. Continuing to the rhythm of your heart, you wrap your lips around the tip of his finger and give it a soft suckle. Soon, a metallic copper taste slides on your tongue. Such an eerie sight to witness, by your professors and the others too. Especially the spawn of devil who was too busy charming the ditzy transfer student off her feet; if San catches you being this 'type' of friendly with the professor you 'slightly' resent then you probably could never show your face to anyone on the surface of earth. Luckily, San wasn't even sparing a glance at you.

"Miss—Miss Lee?" his voice breaks when he calls out to you again, prompting you to loosen your grip on his hand before you're letting it drop to his side.

"You were supposed to add antiserums to the slide, drop by drop. Now..." he takes a deep breath, noticing your glossy eyes and your plump lips parted; he's definitely resisting his urges. "The blood on the slide is almost..." He glances down at the table. "...it's almost dry. Miss Lee—" he leans in close to your ear, a coarse whisper sending a shiver down your spine, "—I'd like to see you after class."

"Maybe you can justify your actions then."

He leans back and takes a short gander around. Curling his lips up in a riveting smile, he nudges you with a nod. "Add the antiserums now, Miss Lee. All the others have finished performing the experiment."

You're out of your daze, rummaging your eyes around to find many of your classmates are done with their work and had gone to the other side of the lab, where the desks were.

"I'll be checking your practical sheets before you leave, so make sure you complete them all now." he announces out loud in the class, earning muffled groans from his students. "And no excuses."

"You too, Miss Lee," he turns to you, "now, if you will, you have to tell me my blood group. So, go on."

Again, pulling yourself out of the stupor, you nod profusely and proceed to the next step before the blood on your slide is completely dry. You add a drop of each antiserum on the three droplets of blood; waiting for a second, you watch the drop with antisera D and antisera A added begin to clot. To your conclusion, Professor Jeong's blood group is A+ve. All while you did the experiment, his eyes were fixed on you, fixated on your quivering hands and lips every time you tried to do something. In some instances of his mind, he was admiring you and your dedication, and how badly he had rocked your boat into capsizing.

"Good," he muses, his words turning bitter soon, "you sure can do a few things right. Well, all that's left to do is—" he grunts softly as he pulls the sleeves of his shirt back down, while he shrugs on his coat, "—cleaning and writing. Chop chop, Miss Lee. And do not forget you have to wait after class."

With those spine-chilling words he leaves you stranded to your spot; unfortunately, this time San had overheard your conversation. He slides next to you, eyeing your workstation before glancing over at you.

His lips push themselves out into a pout, and he grumbles, "fucked up something?"

"None of your business," you grit your teeth, "get away before I chop your balls off."

"Oh, I'm shivering," he deadpans, nudging his elbow with your ribs, "come on, Lee. Tell me. What did you do for him to ask you to wait after class? We both know he's never done it—in fact he hates it when someone waits after class to 'talk' to him." he emphasises with finger quotes, rolling his eyes at you. "You fucked up big time then."

You heave out a long sigh, "I—just, shut up, San. You're the most annoying person in my life."

Grumbling, you glance at Professor Jeong, he was sitting on his desk at the back of the class, by the lockers. His stare was on you. It was on you from the moment he sat down. And even though you may not know what he was thinking, or wondering about, the glimpse of him having his teeth scratching on his lower lip was enough to let you know what exactly he intended on doing with you.

"Don't drag it out on me," he mumbles, his pout still intact on his face, "although, you're denying the truth, which means you two had an anomalous interaction..."

As he trails off, you roll your eyes at him. Finding the courage to break your eye contact with Professor Jeong, you glare at San and bite your lip. "Yeah, he made me wait after class. It's pertaining to me being late. Now off you go, make yourself useful elsewhere. Maybe, help Reagan find the remaining of her skirt, pretty sure she left it back at her dorms."

San muses for a second before leaning over to stare at the said girl's skirt; she was standing by the lockers chattering with someone. His face twitches smugly, his brows creasing as he checks her out.

"Oh, no no! That does seem more important than dealing with you, Lee." he smirks, biting his lower lip, "see you around, try not to get too infatuated with your favourite professor."

Sauntering away from you, he loses his lab coat and then engages himself with Reagan. You project your frustrations into a sigh and begin cleaning your workbench before heading to the lockers to retrieve your bag and other items. Walking past the professor was a challenge in itself because you were too fazed in your mind by everything he did. Though, you could really say you were fuddled over his decision to make you wait after class. Anyone could tell you exactly how much he despised his students waiting after class, 'cause most of the times it would be the absurd number of female students trying to confess their feelings for him. You could sympathise with him, understand where he was coming from because you would find yourself in a similar situation; you were well sought to in your department, endless confessions, profuse gestures of affection, what not.

Regardless, you realised what you wanted in a man. It was the professor himself.

"Miss Lee, I need your practical journal completed." he speaks up as you're walking past his desk with your tote bag on your shoulder and your lab coat neatly folded in your hands. "You know what, I'll go through it after class. Till then, get your write-ups done."

Offering you a redolent smile, he tears his eyes off you. You swallow thickly, knowing well how ineptly stuck you were with him, after class too. And one more fact, your practical journal was incomplete—blank at the most, which was a catastrophe in the waiting. As the fear creeps up your spine, you bite your cheek and stumble onto an empty desk, settling yourself down to catch a breath.

Time passes in a haste, without bounds, and soon the moment you dreaded arrives with a tinkering bell on it. The class is empty, except for you and Professor Jeong. You could listen to him breathe, placidly whistle out a grumble a few times since he was busy with something you didn't feel the need to pay attention to. The clock on the wall ticks again and you're gathering your stuff before 'sneaking' out of the class. If his attention is solely saturated over something useless to you, then he probably won't even notice you gone.

At least that's what you thought.

"Miss Lee, I must remind you of our little parley where I asked you to wait after class." He doesn't even peek from the file he was reading, and continues, "don't think I can't see you sneaking away."

You stop in your steps, right in front of the open door with a few students lurking behind in the corridor. Stifling a groan, you roll your eyes and turn around on your feet. The man is sat poised in his chair, his lips curved in a smirk as he's staring right through you. Your heart skips a beat, yes too cliche, but you felt its arrhythmic vibrations ring your ears.

"Are there any students loitering in the corridor?" he questions and you nod to it, pressing your lips together. "Wait for them to leave and then lock the doors."

Why?

Lock the doors?

Why lock the doors?

Now your heart was pounding in that bony little cage of yours. Sooner or later, you would find it either in your throat or your guts that is if he continues to stare at you with the intensity of sun. Quite lost in the trance of his melancholic yet concupiscent eyes, you start nibbling on your lower lip, wanting to squeeze your thighs together to rid yourself of the tension you felt in your cunt. The chatters start dithering outside, ascending to the wind of nothing and it brings peace to your mind; not that it wasn't peaceful before, but now, it's just you and him caught in a void of infatuation.

"Do not take my intentions in the wrong way, Miss Lee. I am not so fond of disturbances during one-on-one student session..." he explains, going back to reading his file. Though, after a while he clears his throat and prompts you, "any moment now, Miss Lee."

"Yea—yeah," you stutter, sensing your throat close up.

Taking a step forward you close the latches on the door. The exhilaration of you being alone with him is sort of distorted in your head when you make your way towards his desk. What does he have in his mind? What does he want from you? Is this one of his many ways to make you feel small and little? Like all the times he does when you're attending his classes or so.

The look in his eyes has a spark of joy, just humming across the field of brown containing his pep. Those same eyes follow you around, till you're in front of him; his face shows no emotion, except for that straight line of his lips.

"Would you need an invitation, Miss Lee? Your binder, please." he asks, peeking up at through his long lashes and the black rimmed glasses. The glare on them makes it hard for you to read his eyes this time.

You clear your throat, and fumble with your bag to take the thick binder out. Pages furled out of it, a few flying off to fall on the ground, while a few remained stuck in amidst the others; you could tell Professor Jeong wasn't too happy with the condition of your binder. To be fair, this binder was your repository for all performed experiments so far. Nonetheless, your binder was...incomplete. Biting your lip, you place your binder on the table in front of him.

He eyes it for a moment before grabbing it in his hands and flipping the pages. You couldn't resist holding him on a high regard; his sleek fingers pinching the edges of the pages, turning them, eyes rummaging along the lines, and his parted lips which could tell he was contemplating.

"I certainly did not expect this from you, Miss Lee." he clicks his tongue, "now that I see it for myself, I can't help but agree with my initial remark about you. I would suggest you focus more on your academics rather than wasting your time with your friends and ambling through your life."

He sighs in defeat, mostly disappointment and slides your binder towards you across the table. Pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, he takes a deep breath and turns his head to you, his face expressing nothing at all.

"Life's not all about strolling through one club then to another. And while you do that, I can't sit back and watch you ruin your potential, Miss Lee," he sucks his teeth, as he continues to berate you with his words, "you're in the running for most proficient student in our department, alongside Mr. Choi. Now, would you be delighted to bear a consequence where he holds the trophy and not you? All because of what...? Some fiddling people you call your friends whose only job is to drag you out to buzzing clubs and what not."

Listening to him hound your existence, your heart suddenly weighs down in your chest, it grows heavy till it touches your gut. Oh no, you were letting it affect your state of mind. On the verge of tears, you look away from him and fixate your blurry vision on the floor; it was overbearing to hold his eyes, to wallow in the disappointment he held in them. Moreover, you didn't want him to see you cry, or shed a tear for that matter because you know you were close. Very close.

You sniffle softly, lowering your head furthermore to avoid to his gaze.

"Miss Lee?"

Silence.

You don't care for the concern his voice shows and continue to toil yourself on the contrasting hue of morning sun and the grey tiles. Blurry vision captures the indefinite shadows of lockers, some bookshelves—the sun was crawling overhead, witnessing your derision with your professor. You don't try to pay him any mind, not that you could even if you wanted to. There's a possible reason to why you don't want to, maybe the answer lies in your uncertain infatuation with him, or maybe it does prove your outlandish feelings for him. Which one of it was genuine?

A small moment passes between you two, roiling in tranquil haze before he clicks his tongue and drawls on a breath. "And to speak on your furtive behaviour—"

"Why do you hate me?"

A beat of serenity yanks his attention.

"What do you mean, Miss Lee?"

"I asked, why do you hate me so much?"

You glance up at him, preparing your unfazed mind for his reaction to your reddened cheeks and nose, and the obvious streaks of tears down your cheeks. The muscles on his face twitch even if it was indiscernible to the moment, you study him; he reveals a speck of pity in his eyes, so pathetic for you to think he'd pity you.

"Sherri?"

His lips quiver so delicately, calling out your name in a sleek yet coarse voice. It was the first time he'd ever called out your name, enunciated each syllable in his utmost trepidation as if he really cared for you. That alone was enough to cause a havoc in your heart, dwindling it further down to your...maybe it was the way he spoke your name out, but you were definitely feeling a spark strike in your pussy.

"I do not despise you, Sherri," he softly murmurs, looking away from you for a long minute before trailing his pitiful eyes back on you. "If my actions have made you—"

"—you always belittle me, humiliate me in front of the class and pretend to act as if you do it all because you care." you ramble, "you don't care about my feelings! All you can think is how to make me fall from my grace. Isn't it?"

You shake your head and bring your hands up to wipe your tears off, which had uncontrollably gushed out of your eyes while you had your meltdown. Your tote bag falls onto the floor with a soft thud, and you pay no mind to it. The hyperventilation soon kicks in, suffocating your lungs with a want to break free from your chest, and your stomach littered with unwanted butterflies fluttering along. More tears slide out of your eyes, and you lose your capability to see clearer.

The dainty streaks of torment on your cheeks, your tears, and your flushed face was a huge turn on for him; he could not probably free himself from his fetish, but his philia for tears or anything remotely close to it, always excited his cock. He shifts in his seat, spreading his legs apart under the desk to free himself from the strain in his pants. Oh how badly he had been aroused, by just watching you cry.

"Sherri, you're mistaking my concern for bullying; fuck! Why would I want to torment or humiliate you in front of the class?" he questions, such dainty voice breaking your heart and making you feel pathetic to sob in front of him.

"Come here."

He lures you in with his soft voice, and a frail tug of his lips; his smile had already proved to be devastating to you and even the slightest of it can make you, his puppet. Without realising it, you're taking short strides around the table to be by his side. He has his hand extended in front of you, something you didn't quite understand until you hold it in hesitation, and he pulls you down on his lap.

You gasp, and then yelp when you land on his lap; at first you find yourself uncomfortable in his embrace but giving it a little time, you relax and settle down, still with a bit of unease. His arms wrap themselves around your waist and he leans close to rest his chin on your shoulder as you sit sideways on his lap. Ambiguous swirls of darkness cover his eyes, and your breath hitches trying to unravel his true intentions. Instead, you were starting to get comfortable with him.

"I do not resent you for who you are, Sherri," he begins with a whispery breath, rubbing your back as he does. "I resent myself for being so helplessly bound under your spell."

Your lips part open, your chest heaves up and down erratically to constrain your wildly pounding heart. Oh, you were gone, you most definitely were.

"Projecting my bitter disposition on you was a mechanism I sought to cope my untamed desire—the ugly desire to taste this forbidden fruit." Mumbling, he turns his head and traces his lips along your neck, kissing and sucking. "Holy fuck, this body of yours...those lips, you don't know how much I crave them."

His hands tighten around your waist, and you gasp for air, "Professor Jeong, this isn't ethical. You're violating the university policy...ah!"

He bites down on your neck, grabbing enough flesh in between his teeth to suck on it. That's going to leave a pretty purple bruise behind, all in its glory, on your neck—so fucking attractive to you. Pressing down on a moan, you drag your hands to his shoulders, hoping to shove him off to disturb his grip on you. Though you thought. It wasn't easy to make him budge, he wasn't letting you go, and you were gradually falling into that realisation.

"I could lose my job," he whispers, chuckling softly, "I can fucking lose my job if I engage with you, if I make my vile thoughts a reality but I can't control myself any longer, I need you, I need to ruin you—I know you feel the same way about me. Don't you, Sherri?" he nibbles on your earlobe, his hot breath fanning your ear. "Aren't your intentions the same as me, huh?"

"No." you mumble.

"No?"

You shake your head.

He doesn't believe you.

"Sherri, oh you beautiful liar," he sighs, his lips now curling into a smirk, "didn't you think of something else when you were sucking my finger off, hmm?"

You pout, not wanting to answer or have him the satisfaction of being right; instead, you start shuffling on his lap to get out of his hold. Squirming in his lap, you press your butt against his crotch, accidentally touching his hardened cock. It continues to poke your ass, and his fingers dig into your skin when his hold tightens on your waist. You were making it worse, it was visible on his face in the form of quivering lips and shut eyes.

"Don't move...!" he warns you, pressing your lower body against his lap, keeping you fixed in one place. "You'll make me...fuck. You do this on purpose, don't you?"

You stop moving—well you had no choice but to when his brute strength was holding you down against him. "I don't. I haven't done anything on purpose."

Lying is so easy. But him believing it has to be easy too. Though at this point you knew you were teasing him.

"Sherri, don't lie." He peels his eyes open and takes a sharp breath in, "get on your knees."

You gulp. Knees? He wants you on your knees...? That's...really fucking hot.

Eagerly, you crawl out of his lap as he gives you the chance to, keeping his hands to his side. He repositions his chair in a way to face you, as you're kneeling down in front of him, by the side of the table. There's not much distance between you, and the dithered proximity makes your heart palpitate with anticipation.

What was he going to do?

Your mind raced with the possibilities. Was he going to shove his 'obvious' boner down your throat? Was he going to make you ride him? What was his hauntingly beautiful mind thinking about?

"An obedient teacher's pet, how adorable," he coos, stroking his hand over your head as if to pet you.

"Professor..."

"Shush...!" he leans over, closely watching you with his fervent eyes. Out of nowhere the warmth of his thumb engulfs of your cheek. "Not a sound."

Brushing his thumb across, he collects a drop of your tear and brings it close to his mouth. He wraps his lips around his thumb and gives it a good suck; his eyes intently fixed on yours, delineating his intentions. You nod your head and watch him straighten his back to relax against the chair. His eyes glance over at the door for a minor second before he fixes them back on you; with a lilting smirk, he grabs the wooden pointer stick from his table and slaps its tip on the palm of his other hand. The same hand rubs along the length of it until his forefinger traces the tip before holding it in his one hand.

You couldn't help but gulp again, feeling aroused by his hand, and the way it was pumping the stick to and fro. Lowering yourself on your calves, you try to squeeze your thighs together. You wanted to ease your muscles, wanted to rid yourself of the tightness in your cunt because you were beyond wet for him.

"Hands behind your back," he commands, and you oblige without hesitation. "I asked you to be on your knees for me..." he softly mutters, tapping the stick twice on the floor to get you back on your knees.

You do that too; completely unaware of his next move. He drags the stick from the ground to you, to the hem of your skirt and lifts it up—exposing your ruined panties to him.

"Tsk, wet already?" he heaves out a breath, "do I really affect you that much?"

"Yes," you swallow and mumble, "you do."

"Hmm," he muses, humming his words along later, "that makes me want you even more."

With his other hand he takes his glasses off and flings them on the table. He pushes the stick further up till your waist to completely expose your dripping wet panties and your cunt; he licks his lips at the sight, his instincts running wild in his mind. Your hands were perfectly slotted in the small of your back, tightly wound together to appease the tension.

"Ah..fuck," you groan when you feel the wooden stick rub your cunt; he had angled it in such a way that it kept your skirt from falling down and it also gave him enough access to drag it along your slit. "Please, professor, I want you."

Listening to you mewl, his smirk widens, and he slurs his words, "now you want me, Miss Lee? Un-fucking-believable."

He picks up his pace, letting the stick rub itself perfectly against your slit; your cunt clenches around nothing, aching to have something in between, something to fill you up. You writhe in desperation, shifting your weight from one leg to another. Unable to contain yourself, you start grinding yourself against the stick, upon noticing it, he halts his movements and watches you with amusement. Casing his lips into a pout, he traces his forefinger on his lower lip; he's contemplating, mirthfully watching you pleasure yourself on the stick. You bring both of your hands to the front, holding the stick to stabilise it before you increase the pace of hips grinding down.

"Aww, is my little brat getting excited?" he scoffs, shaking his head lightly.

You press your lips together and nod your head, closing your eyes shut to the budding pleasure crawling up your body. Second by second, your sanity shrinks to nothing, making you loosen your grip on the stick. From the corner of your half-lidded eye, you watch him offer you a conceited smile, clearing his intentions out when he pulls the stick from between your legs and slides it up to your chin. Tapping its tip twice to your chin, he gets your attention on him with your eyes wide in anticipation.

He spreads his legs wider in front of you, putting his cock on a glorious display as it tightens in his pants; the outline of his cock figuratively makes you swallow a thick gulp of air. Keeping your head high with the stick, he uses his other hand to palm his crotch, gently wrapping his fingers around his cock to give it a few half-hearted pumps through his pants. With a nudge of his head, he drops the stick to a side and gestures you to come close. Biting your tongue, you crawl towards him, your heart in your throat now. Maybe it was the anticipation, the eagerness to see him bare and under the griming influence of your pleasure, but you were slightly alarmed to find yourself slotted in between his legs.

"Let's get my brat what she wants," he whispers further shifting comfortably in his hair. "Such hungry eyes gawking at the sight of my cock," he grabs your jaw lightly and strokes his thumb under your chin. He tuts, "I get these looks a lot but there's something about you— something about the way you're drooling over my cock."

You let your teeth sink deep in your lower lip, while your lips twitch into a soft smile of amusement. "Am I turning you on, professor?"

You release your lip from your teeth's grip, and he watches it wobble in a daze while you lean close and place your hands on either of his thighs. Rubbing circles with your fingertips on his thighs, you take a deep breath to calm your nerves.

"If that wasn't the case you wouldn't be here, Miss Lee. Kneeling between my legs, ready to take my cock in your mouth, hmm?" he suggestively murmurs, dragging his thumb to your lips till he forces it in your mouth. "Now, open wide."

Using his other hand, he fumbles with the buckle of his belt. While he does manage to get it undone, you decide to suck on his thumb which was still fixed in your mouth; you lick around, blatantly ignoring his rugged skin. You hear him grunt ever so gently to your mouth wrapped around his thumb, tingling with excitement to know what it would be like to have this same warmth around his cock. Everything passes in a haze when he restlessly tugs down on his pants and briefs at the same time; you notice him take his thumb out of his mouth and instead he replaces it with his cock.

The reddened tip of his cock nudges against your lips and you open wide, lowering yourself down on his cock—though, only halfway considering his length would take you long to adjust to while the thick girth already made the corners of your mouth sting. He holds your neck, his fingers delicately splayed on the nape as he pushes you down, however he's mindful of you and how much you can take in. You start stroking the remaining of his shaft—which you would eventually have to swallow deep in your mouth.

"Fuck, you're driving me insane with your mouth, I might..." he trails his words off into a low groan, beginning to thrust himself into your mouth. "I'm not going to last long, am I?"

He taunts, digging his fingers into your skin as he pushes your head further down on his cock; his thrusts become too sloppy, and you don't pay much mind to it. You are too focused on widening your mouth around his cock to fit him fully inside. Feeling the tip of his cock brush against your throat, you almost gag; your throat tightens, and the suffocation starts sneaking up on you, but you push yourself through and sink lower on his cock.

"Fuck, such a good brat, taking me in so well," he whimpers coarsely, "but this little brat needs to be punished for making me break my rules."

You gaze up at him with your teary eyes, softening them as he looks down at you too. Nodding your head, you hollow your cheeks and bop your head up and down after adjusting to his size. Your fingers dig into his fleshy thighs, constraining your moans with his cock stuffed in your mouth, you keep staring up at him till a few drops of tears cascade down your cheeks. He brings his other hand to caress your cheeks, thumb stroking off the tears as he doesn't let go of your head. You're on the verge of gagging on his cock, choking even, but disregarding your gag reflex, he bucks his hips into your face and his cock slides further down your throat. Unable to hold onto your moans and whimpers, you try to make a sound—the vibrations send him reeling from pleasure, he throws his head back and tightens his hold on your neck.

"Can't make a sound because my cock is—your mouth is stuffed with my cock, isn't it?" he teases, closing his eyes shut to relish the wetness and warmth of your mouth. "Don't worry—I won't—I won't cum too soon. My brat deserves a little—a little bit of fun even if she's being pun—punished."

His stutter was absolutely beautiful, it showed how much of a mess he was with your mouth wrapped around his cock, engulfed in the devious warmth of it. Somehow, it gave you a sense of victory, a sense of peace to know you had gotten him on his edge with only your mouth and nothing else. The saltiness of his precum floods your mouth—it makes you retch a bit regardless of that, you continue sucking him off while his thrusts are slow and steady. In the meantime, he pulls his untucked shirt above till his chest and holds it there; he pushes your head further down on his cock, till your nose is pressed against his pubic bone and your skin feels ticklish from his trimmed pubic hair.

His chest is rising and falling at an alarming rate; he surely was a mess, and you liked seeing it. When you peek up at him with your still-teary eyes, you notice sweat covering his forehead, making his hair stick to his skin while his cheeks are flushed with a shade of red. How adorable. How fucking adorable. The ever so haughty and stoic professor was writhing under your touches, with how you lapped your tongue under his shaft and purposely sucked your cheeks in to make it tight.

In actuality, you were really driving him wild; his grip on your neck loosens a bit for a hot second and he uses that time to let his hand entangle in your hair. You didn't realise when you groped his thighs for support, even so, your nails had dug deep enough to leave behind crescent marks on his skin, the kind which would fluster with a brutal purple tint tomorrow. Grasping a proper hold on your hair, he pulls you back and frees his cock from his mouth; a vile 'pop' sound resounds in the room while he does so.

The moment his cock is out of your mouth, you gasp for air, you swallow huge lugs of air through your mouth and glance at him with dazed eyes. His thick and veiny cock was slick with your spit, shining softly under the lights while a few strings of your saliva still connected your lips and his shaft. Your drool had covered every inch of his cock and had also slithered down your chin. The sensation in your mouth was a little sticky and salty from his precum. You keep your mouth wide open and wipe off the drool using the back of your hand; he smugly chuckles, eyes on you like a predator.

"Need to take a break?" he taunts you, belittling your presence and you shake your head to a no. Leaning over, he cups your face in both of his hands and grazes his eyes along your chest and exposed thighs.

"Get up."

Again, his domineering voice forces you to oblige, and you get on your wobbly feet—feeling your throat sore and tight from his cock hitting constantly, you swallow enough amount of spit and try to wash the sting down. He notices it but doesn't say much. His hands slide down from your face and hold your waist as you stand in front him; without any doubt, he pushes your front against the desk and makes you bend over. One hand on the collar of your blouse, and other on the small of your back; he keeps you in that position while he takes his time to shimmy his pants and briefs down till his knees. He positions himself behind you, managing to push your skirt up on your back to expose your dripping wet panties and your cunt. Your wet panties were driving him wild; his breathing becomes even more ragged when he snaps at the waistband and pulls them down to your knees. He swallows thickly when his thirsty eyes lurk over your glistening wet cunt, clenching around nothing for the time being.

"This wet cunt is going to take in every inch of me...fuck," he curses his under his breath while he smoothens his hand on one of your buttcheeks. "But we can't forget about your punishment, can we?"

He flattens his palm against your ass, keeping you pressed against the desk with his hand on your neck; you whimper in anticipation and hold onto the edge of the desk till your knuckles turn while. Anticipation makes you wiggle your ass slightly, as you're on your tippy toes and perfectly bent over the desk.

"No, we can't," you heave out a shaky sigh, not able to control your excitement anymore. "How are you going to punish me, professor?"

You sneer in your seductive voice, slurring your words against your rounded lips to get a reaction out of him. Having your vision limited to the empty classroom and the workbenches, the exhilaration of not knowing what he was going to do, makes you even wetter.

Yunho knows how vile your mind is, he knows the wet patch on your panties continues to grow the more he teases you and honestly, he wasn't complaining. He liked it as much as you did, but he hid it well in his composed speech and relaxed movements.

"There's only one way to punish a brat like you," he grunts, slapping one of your buttcheeks, "count them."

So, you were getting spanked. Such a fitting punishment for a brat like you, by a professor too—why did it feel like you were trapped in a low-budget student-professor porn movie? You can't complain anyway, you were absolutely absorbed in the trance of your pleasure and his hands caressing your butt.

You nod and thus begins the punishment.

Slap!

"One," you mewl, feeling his hand burn on your skin.

Slap!

"Two," your breath hitches when you go to say it out loud, your skin stinging from his hand.

Slap!

"Thr—three!" you groan out loudly, the impact jolting your body against the top of the desk.

This one stung like a bitch.

Slap!

Without any warning, he adds one more spank to the same buttcheek before moving onto the other. He offers it a soft squeeze first, and then pulls his hand back and flattens his palm over it.

Slap!

"How many were those, huh?" he asks your mind fiddles with the remaining brain cells—how many were those? Really. How many?

"Si—six," you somehow manage to sputter, your spit falling on the desk in front of you.

"Good girl," he praises, rubbing his hand on your buttcheek before tracing it down to your folds. His fingers press and nudge against your folds until he rams one finger along your slit. Pushing down, wedging his finger deep inside, he watches your juices coat the length of his finger before he brings it to his nose to give it a good sniff. "I wonder if you're enjoying this punishment, pup. Are you? Are you enjoying this punishment...?"

First, your mind goes haywire when he teases you with that nickname. Pup. Well, you were turning out to be his pet, you might as well roll along with it.

Second, you were certainly enjoying the punishment, liking the way his hands were able to engulf your entire buttcheek at once.

Third, you're forced to slip out of your sanity when he aligns his cock with your hole and slowly sinks in. Your aroused juices proved helpful for him to slip right in. You suddenly start feeling full, the stretch of your walls subsiding into a soothing ache and then it sublimes completely into pleasure. Your desires were getting quenched; inch by inch your cunt swallows him whole, the burn on your walls now pacified by him. He doesn't move when he bottoms out, he keeps his cock sucked deep in you. Keeping one hand on the small of his back, he pushes your nimble body further against the desk—your back arches inwards and prodding your ass out for his easy access.

"Fuck, such a tight cunt. Got no one to loosen it out, Miss Lee?" he smirks, grunting at the way your walls clenched around him and remains unmoving. "Don't worry, I'll fuck it loose—fuck," you tighten around him listening to his wispy words, "do you want me to, huh, pup? Do you want me to fuck you loose?"

"Yeah—yeah, yeah I'd like that," you murmur, your brain turned into a mush and your body shuddering as he slowly, very slowly, starts moving. He doesn't pull out completely, he keeps his cock buried deep in you and slides in and out at a leisure pace.

"Of course, my pup would like to get fucked senseless," he mumbles, slapping one of your buttcheeks again.

You were fully sure his hand was now printed on your skin in a bright red shade; the soreness didn't matter because the thrill was eating you up and turning it into bliss. Biting back a moan, you keep your breathing steady. Though, you feel your chest shatter entirely when he picks up his pace. Your fingernails start scratching at the varnish on the table, a bit of it getting stuck in them.

"Yes, prof—professor..." you groan, stuttering with his thrusts.

"Nuh-huh, for an obedient puppy like you, I'm your master," he slides his cock out, and rams back into you, letting it plunge deep, "what should you—should you call me, pup?"

"Master," you breathe out, exasperated. "Master, please go faster, fuck! Fuck me harder please, breed your little pup." You cry, genuinely letting tears streak down your cheeks; you were weak already, holding out till he would increase the rhythm of his merciless thrusts.

Something goes off in his head, his hips start snapping at an animalistic pace with your body thrashing against the wooden desk; his hands are all over you, touching you, caressing you, leaving his marks on you. Though, at a point he brings one of his hands to the curve of your back, while his other hand winds itself around your thigh. Seeming seconds drag on with his thrusts curt and sharp, his cock reaching deep in your cunt till you could feel it tauten in the pit of your stomach. Yunho could sense your walls clench around his cock, not liking it one bit—his thrusts start faltering, gradually coming to a halt.

Still buried deep in you, he leans over your back—inching close to your neck, he bites down harshly before whispering, "does my pup want to cum?"

You could discern the slyness in his voice, and you nod your head with your mouth agape, drool glistening down your lower lip and staining your chin. Bearing his size, tuning with his blunt thrusts, and the way his tip was abusing your sweet spot, it was all too much, sending you into a sensory overdrive. At this point, you had zero comprehensible thoughts in your mind except for the heinous acts you were weaving into your body: all of them being about your professor and his huge dick.

"Well, then my pup has to wait a little longer," he grunts close to your ear and then straightens himself up, "master isn't done with his pup yet."

"Can my pup wait a little longer?" he presses his hand down on your back, reluctantly making your walls clench around him.

You're left with no choice but to nod your head again, and it satisfies him; his gradually starts moving again, keeping his thrusts steady and slow. He lets you adjust to him again, and eventually increases his pace. Pulling and shoving himself into you, he starts bucking his hips into your thighs, his grip tightening till his knuckles turn white while you hold onto the edge of the table like your life depended on it. Your body oscillates to and fro, colliding and thumping with the wooden table with his every thrust. The sound of clothes crumpling, and the rattling of his belt buckle, makes your heart race harder in your chest.

You had never imagined you'd be caught in this situation; not that you didn't imagine or fantasise it, you didn't think it'd become a reality. Yeah, it's true that you had countless fantasises about your professor, one of them being fucked while you're bent over his desk—but the probability of him actually fucking you was one in a twenty, considering there were twenty female students in your class. Skin slapping against skin, his cock thrashing balls deep in your tight cunt, you were still mewling in your mind for more. The sensation was diabolical in a way, clustering your brain with unwanted thoughts—hell, you had lost it.

A known tightness tangles itself in your gut, your stomach cherishing the last bit of butterflies it felt before knowing you would flood down on his cock soon. Your senses drop, your stomach twists and knots, your heart runs a miles per hour because his thrusts were helping you chase your high. You were so sure he was going to let you take a break, let you ease out the tightness in your stomach; but to your unbridled surprise, he doesn't. His movements dither, slowing down till he comes to a stop again; he's still buried deep in you, and somehow that caused you more pain than his actual thrusts.

"Aww, my pup is too eager to get off," he mumbles, throwing his head back in pure bliss from your walls still clenched around him, but then he feels you loosen, and he starts pounding into you with a gentle tempo. "Not so soon. You're still getting punished."

He drags on for an hour or so, his thrusts stopping completely sometimes, his cock buried deep in your warmth—eventually he would pick up his pace and ram into your tight little cunt as if it was the last thing he wanted. You had been denied your orgasm a few times, counting it, you had been denied three times so far. Though that pleasure was turning into pain, your belly ached with every inch of strain his cock put on your cunt. Your stomach knots itself for the fourth time, your legs trembling and your yearning crossing your threshold to hold your orgasm in.

The familiarity only grows in your gut, your walls puckering around his cock to milk out his own orgasm; but he knows how to play it off well, he wasn't going to cum before you did. Pressing back into your thighs, he remains unmoving for a second before picking up his pace again, his cock plunges into the deeper void of your cunt, almost protruding the walls to your gut. You have lost your voice to make a sound, one thing—but the other thing was you weren't supposed to make a lot of noise. Swallowing your moans and grunts, you feel your high washing over; your walls tighten around his cock one last time before they're coming undone—releasing you juices all over his cock. Some of it squirts around as his cock still keeps plunging deep into you, a few drops stain his abdomen and get absorbed in his clothes, but he doesn't seem too bothered by it.

"My pup made a mess on my cock," he grumbles, closing his eyes shut as he helps you ease your cunt with a few of his concise and brief thrust. His thighs collide with yours, heat growing between your bodies and your skin slick from sweat and your orgasm. "Such a pretty pup, such a beautiful little baby..." he rambles on his own, incoherent and inaudible, but mostly it was him losing his mind over the trickling warmth of your arousal.

His thrusts become sloppy once he knows he's reaching his high; but he doesn't give out just yet. With a couple more longing and concise thrusts, he lets himself drive his cock deep into your warmth—he counts down the minutes with his ambling pokes till it becomes unbearable for him to hold out. Taking a deep breath and arching his back to let his cock plunge deep, he slides one of his hands on your lower back—pressing, pushing, digging his fingers and palm in your flesh, he releases himself in deep in you. With every thrust, he keeps pulling out till he completely slides out of you. He smirks at the sight his eyes behold, twinkling with a yearning no one knows, not even you; his load dribbles down your pussy, staining your skin in stark white shade, as some of it spurts on your inner thighs.

You're breathless, too fucked to understand anything and thus you couldn't register your surroundings quite well when he flips you over. Grabbing your shoulders, he pushes you down on the ground, having you kneel before him with his cock near your mouth. The veins on his cock were less bulged than before, but his shaft was coated in a thin layer of his cum and glints a bit with your juices.

"Clean me up, pup."

His order doesn't go unheard by you, and as the loyal little puppy you are to him, you hold on to the sides of his thighs and lean in to lick his cock off. At first, it's a weird concoction of saltiness and a little bit of sweetness, soon it fades to nothing. You lap your tongue around his shaft, over and under his tip till you've cleared everything off from his cock—you pull back, smiling dizzily because you were delighted to help him out. Half-lidded eyes trace a line up and you find him staring at down at you, his hand in the process to grab your jaw. Caressing your chin, he pulls you up on your feet and helps you sit on the desk before wrapping his arms around your waist to pull himself closer to you.

"Miss Lee," he whispers, "I'm sure the post-orgasm clarity is now sinking in both of our minds, but we certainly need to address the elephant in the room."

You lean forward to rest your head on his chest, closing your eyes shut for a moment, you take a deep breath in and relax your tensed muscles. "Professor Jeong...I've wanted this to happen for a long time."

"So, you have no regard for me losing my job, do you?" he teases, rubbing circles on your back to soothe you, "Lee Sherri, you really are a brat. Making me break my rules."

"What rules?" you grin, peeking up at him as your wrap your arms around his broad chest.

"I don't date my students," he murmurs, pecking your forehead.

"Who's suggesting you date me?" you chuckle, shaking your head, "we can be fuck buddies."

"Is that what you call it nowadays?" he laughs, heartily, pouting down at you as he continues, "we'll have to be really careful, Sherri. Can't have anyone knowing about us—"

Knock knock!

Your eyes go wide, your heart thumps in your chest and your lips start quivering in fear. On the other hand, Yunho is pretty tame, and he only offers you a reassuring smile.

"Straighten out your clothes and relax. It's no stranger, I've been expecting him actually," he mumbles, breaking apart from your embrace to pull his pants and briefs up.

Whilst he is buttoning his pants and buckling the belt, you too tug your panties up and hop off the desk. You try to smoothen out the creases on your skirt and blouse—your white lacy socks were stained with dust at the knees, but you didn't care about it. The clutter of papers on the desk remains as it is, neither of you bothered to organise it. Professor Jeong smiles at you warmly before heading to the door of the classroom, he unlocks the latch and pulls the doors inside to reveal another man with tall silhouette standing there.

Professor Song.

"Since when have you been locking your doors, Yun?" the latter teasingly mutters and chortles, stepping past his friend and entering the classroom which reeks of sweat and sex. He sniffs the air and along the lines his eyes land on you, "ah. So, you were having "one-on-one" with your student."

Professor Song wasn't a professor from your department, he was the heartthrob of the physics department, seemingly the kind who would definitely not have any sentiments towards his students or anyone younger to him for that matter. Clad in a plaid shirt and khakis, he too had a body worth breaking the laws for; his toned biceps bulged out of the sleeves he had rolled over to his elbows, his thick thighs (which you've fantasied riding on) were defined by his tight khakis, and hazel eyes were piercing through you with curiosity.

"Miss Lee and I were just discussing, weren't we, Miss Lee?" Yunho calls out from behind him, tugging down on the crotch of his pants for some apparent reason.

"Discussing what?"

You shift your weight on your feet, standing an inch away from the desk (where you were just railed by your professor) and you pull down on your skirt, not knowing why you felt the need to. You eye your tote bag fallen down on the floor, then at the mess of your binder on the table, and one thing becomes clear which is you and Professor Jeong did fuck on the table.

"I was chiding her for not completing her experimental write-ups, Min," Yunho adds, scratching the back of his neck as he comes to stand next to him. "Miss Lee, we'll have a proper discussion about your careless behaviour next time, perhaps tomorrow. Now, you may leave."

You nod, "ye—yes professor."

Hastily, you sprint out of the classroom after gathering your things and stuffing them in your bag in a haphazard way; meanwhile Mingi rolls his eyes at his friend and scoffs.

"Lie to someone else, Yun."

"Fuck you," he grumbles before a conceited smirk takes over his face.

"If you keep your trap shut, maybe we can share."

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez x reader #jeong yunho #ateez yunho #jeong yunho x reader #atz #jeong yunho smut #smut #yunho #yunho ateez #yunho smut #choi san #song mingi #choi san x reader #jeong yunho x you

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theoceansluvr · 3 months ago

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Study Date Headcanons

warnings; none ! characters; percy jackson, jason grace, + leo valdez author's note; did i technically write a study date fic already ? yes. did i write it with my big 3 ? no !! also i wrote this during breaks on my AP psych assignments so it's a tad bit wonky.. T^T

PERCY JACKSON -

oh boy.. you guys rarely get any actual work done-

but it's very fun either way !

i feel like he has a self established award system so that for every problem he gets right, he gets a kiss..

which usually just ends in him asking super easy questions he already knows the answer to in order to get one.

"hey, the answer to #5 is y = 7.5 , right ?" "uhh.. yeah ? you've gone over that like five times-" "crazy ! i got the answer right though SOOO"

very ineffective method, but you still fall for it

in the scenario where you do get some work done, it's usually bc both of you procrastinated super hard

(we hate deadlines in his household !!)

anywho, lots of snacks too ! like blueberries, blue cookies his mom made, other various things to yer liking !

amazing with science for whatever reason ??? so go to him for help !!

i give him aaaaa 9.5/10 on the study date scale: only productive when necessary but worth it for the kisses !

JASON GRACE -

the most studious person on earth, literally has never missed a deadline !

except that one time but that's bc demigod stuff

has decent handwriting ??(he was raised by wolves okay :c) but enough that you can share notes with having to decipher anything

really good in english but simply bc latin influences on it

will study for like.. 3 hours straight without breaks so you have to grab him by the ear to relax and drink something other than cold coffee and flat red bull..

takes a crap ton of ap and honors classes it's unbelievable, so def the man to go to for anything !!

ermm classical music or pure silence, no in-between ! unless you play the music which is usually what happens

makes you tea/coffee before hand since it helps him focus so he just assumes it'll help you

not necessarily a study headcanon but if you share classes he ALWAYS partners up with you !

anyways, i got sidetracked 10/10 on the study date scale: very productive evening !

LEO VALDEZ -

MY BOYFRIEND EVER !!!

another ap and honors class taker so pls ask him for help in literally anything !

ESPECIALLY MATH 🗣️🗣️

probably takes like.. algebra 2 freshman year

anyways, not the most focused person but he gets his work done super fast despite that !

fast and correctly might i add, like it pisses teachers off when he talks on class and is like "oh i already finished !"

makes you dance with him during study breaks :3 doesn't matter how late it is or if yer in the library, yer dancing to whatever music is playing in the earbuds you guys are sharing

if he finishes his work early he either helps you or just.. stares at you longingly ?? very sappy

he also draws all over his notes so good luck trying to read them !

he gets an 12/10 on the study date scale: im bias + i hate math and would kill for this man to help me with it.. T^T

THIS WAS ACTUALLY SO FUN TO WRITE- might start doing more multiple character works tbh.. anyways !! hope you enjoyed loves🩷 also it was very tempting to put connor in here :(( kinda wish i did but i have work to do !!

#pjo #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson x you #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez #leo valdez x you #jason grace x reader #jason grace #jason grace x you #poems from the sea

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sunnystars2023 · 4 months ago

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Ways BNHA Boys Show their love

Group 2

Synopsis: The ways the boys of BNHA show their love and affection to you.

Characters Included: Izuku Midoriya, Shoto Todoroki, and Tenya Iida.

Group 1/Group 3

🔋👾🌀⭐️🐸⭐️🌀👾🔋👾🌀⭐️🐸⭐️🌀👾🔋

Izuku Midoriya

Midoriya is semi ok with PDA he like people to know that you two are together with out having to say it. He like feeling close to you but he won't kiss you on the lips in public.

Midoriya takes notice of the little things you do and or like. He has his own journal about you. He knows when you've reached your limits and when you need breaks. He knows everything you enjoy from movies to flowers. You guys know each other so well its almost instinctual.

Midoriya is a sweetheart but after his first year at UA he grew some tough skin. Training to be a hero already puts you on edge but Training to be a symbol is harder especially when you're on the line. He doesn't play when it comes to you.

Izuku Midoriya might be a softy at times but when it comes to you, his friends, and Civilians, he's a protecter.

Shoto Todoroki

Todoroki likes to be private so PDA is a no go for him as publicity is a bitch and he’s still Endeavors son. Not that he doesn’t wanna show you off it’s just he doesn’t want a bunch of randos having extra pictures of him much less with you. He makes an exception for hand holding on days where you both need a little extra love. Behind closed doors, thats when he becomes so clingy even just in the dorms and not in your personal rooms.

Todoroki at first isn’t to sure how to be someone’s partner as none of the girls that pursued him never got his attention. The only example he has is Natsuo but he doesn’t ever bring his girlfriend home, but he watched you quietly and would talk to you about what you wanted and what you liked and would listen about topics you grossly know too much about. As time goes on he figures it out, learns what you need and is so sweet but still a little dense.

Todoroki loves to spoil you when he has the chance. When he and Endeavor started to re-kindle their relationship Todoroki accepted a Debit card that is loaded for necessities and such. So if you even whisper of wanting something and he can get it, he’s already got it. He says quote ‘You’re so kind and deserving so why wouldn’t I get it’. Not only is he physically Rich but he also once he gets comfortable with you and the relationship is a Rich lover.

Shoto Todoroki is a learner but a Rich lover so be good to him and he’s good to you.

Tenya Iida

Iida is a strong class leader along side Momo. He is very confident and concentrated on being a good class rep. He like Bakugo HATES PDA as he sees it as A) breaking the rules and B) a breach of your intimate privacy. He will only hold hands if you just absolutely need some affection. He prefers to be touchy behind closed doors.

Iida is strict to his rules even with himself. He tries to keep everything in line. Tries as when it comes to you he will lightly bend the rules for you. If it’s late and you need him, his doors open even past curfew sometimes. Wanna cuddle and end up falling asleep in his bed, he lets you until curfew and brings you to your dorm room. He would bend any rule for you. Bend not break. He is more loyal to you than a dog is to his owner. Iida will not stand for any slander or insults towards you or about you.

Iida is hard working and driven by his peers. He won’t give up and won’t stop working towards his goals so be lucky that you became one of them. He cherishes you and thinks the world of you. He thinks of you as more then just a girlfriend. You’re his partner and Best friend. He helps you with whatever you need. No he won’t give you answers to homework but he will let you borrow his highlighted notes with tips hand written in the margins and go over the assignment without judgment. He also brings you books that he thinks you’d like and writes more notes in the margins for you varying from sweet I love yous to pointed out things that reminded him of you.

Tenya Iida is a smart lover, loyal companion, and a hard-worker. He is as good as gold so take care of him.

🔋👾🌀⭐️🐸⭐️🌀👾🔋👾🌀⭐️🐸⭐️🌀👾🔋

Masterlist <- here

Thank you sm for reading! Check out other parts for more characters! If you want more content follow my wattpad @sunnystars2023!

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya #mha shoto #shoto torodoki #shoto x reader #tenya iida #tenya iida x reader #bnha boys x reader #bnha #mha boys x reader #mha x reader #mha

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chaepink · 2 years ago

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good girls are bad girls (that haven't been caught) | sub!kuroo tetsurou

wc: 2k+ words | masterlist

dom!fem!reader (however it can be read as gn!reader as no body parts are mentioned), begging, crying, teasing, mean!reader, degrading, insulting, slight hair pulling, marking, slight bondage, clothed touching, praising, mention of the reader fucking/marking other people, kuroo is kinda shitty at first, theres plot and smut isn't until later down

note : this is very loosely based off of 'good girls' by 5sos and oh my god i wrote a lot. also I literally wrote this in 4 different sections and had to write in between in order to get to all 4 parts...

"Kuroo, you're failing all your classes except gym. How's that even possible?!" Kuroo shrugs nonchalantly, not paying attention at all and instead opting to look outside the window.

The teacher sighs, taking off her glasses and rubbing her temples. 5 minutes in and she is already getting a headache dealing with him.

"You're a third year already, you should be focusing on studying to get good grades in order to graduate," she says, grabbing the nearby stack of paper on her desk and organizing it. "Lucky for you, however, someone agreed to help tutor you for your main subjects."

"Yeah sure, whatever. Can I go now?" He's had plenty of tutors already and all of them quit only a few days in due to him being uncooperative whenever they tried to help him. He rather enjoys watching them give up and leave him at the library. She sighs again.

"Her name is, [name]. I think you may know her. After all, she's a third-year like you and is at the top of her class."

Kuroo snaps his attention toward his teacher. Did he hear that right?

You're gonna be his tutor? The school's well-known good girl? The girl who gets nothing but straight A's for every piece of schoolwork? Shit. Sure you may be a good tutor and all but he's heard numerous rumors of how strict you are when you're tutoring and he doesn't feel like dealing with it anytime soon.

"Ah, so you know their name at least." She can't help but smile. Finally, he gives her his attention. "They've agreed to tutor you right after school a few days a week at the back of the library-" He scoffs.

"The back of the library? Obviously, she chooses that spot. She's there every single day!"

His teacher gives him a stern look for cutting her off.

"You should be grateful. Today will be the first day she tutors you. She said she would be there on time so don't be late, I'm sure you'll do just fine."

"Yeah right," he mumbles under his breath.

"I heard that."

---

He's late by over 20 minutes, not that he really cares anyways.

As he strides into the library, he looks around and rolls his eyes. The library was practically empty with only a few students sitting at tables and the librarian quietly typing on her computer.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees some students staring at him though not very subtlety. They're either staring due to just clearly being attracted to him or just surprised that he, the school's infamous fuckboy, was at the library. He likes to think that it's the former.

While walking to the back of the library, he notices that the number of students start to decrease. Eventually, he makes it to the very back and sees you. He sneers in disgust at all the books on the table and the open notebook in front of an unoccupied chair.

As he sits down, the chair scraps against the floor which catches your attention. With a blank face, you acknowledge him with a nod.

"My name is [name]," you say. "It's nice to meet you."

He holds back from rolling his eyes from how formal you're being.

"Yeah whatever, I already knew that. Name's Kuroo." If you're taken aback by his forwardness, you don't show it. Instead, you go to open a book that he notices is a math one and he groans.

"From what I've been told, your math grade is the lowest." Though it's on the tip of your tongue, you hold yourself from mentioning that it was the lowest grade by only a few points.

"Well then, let's begin."

---

"That's incorrect. Here, I'll show you." You write down the problem and answer it so quickly and so effortlessly that it makes Kuroo groan in frustration.

You hold back from rolling your eyes. While you knew he would be a pain in the ass to tutor, you didn't expect him to be this annoying. Every question you've asked him so far, he's got wrong. Additionally, he's barely paying attention. By now, it's past the time that you expected the session to last. You keep checking your watch and you swear time is slowing down. You wish for the library to close already.

Your irritated mood almost makes you punch him in the face but you're keeping yourself from doing that. Unfortunately.

You have to keep a good reputation, [name]. How would everyone react if they found out you punched a dude out of pure annoyance?

However, your reputation is probably the last thing you care about right now.

Wrong question after wrong question makes you even more irritated and you swear you're about to break.

"Are we done?" You shake your head. He still has yet to answer a question right.

"What? We're not? Why?" He stares at you with a confused look that infuriates you even further and you're about to answer back until he cuts you off.

"Whatever, you're going to quit just like all the other stupid tutors anyways. Besides, even if you're the school's good girl, I bet you do all sorts of stuff back here if you know what I mean-"

You abruptly grab him by his tie and force him closer to you with only a few inches between you two.

"Shut the fuck up." You snarl at him. "Holy shit are you so stupid! You can't even answer these basic math questions that even an fucking elementary student can!"

You let go of his tie and watch him back up in shock and trip over his chair, making him fall down onto the floor.

Frustrated, you're about to pack up your stuff until you see something on his pants. A bulge.

You freeze as you gape at it. Holy shit.

Kuroo follows your stare and immediately covers it, face ablaze. "S-stop looking! It's n-not what it seems like!"

As you process the situation, a devilish grin slowly makes its way onto your face. As you make your way closer to him, he backs up into the bookshelf, watching your every step. Nervousness is painted on his face. It looks rather good on him.

"Oh really? From my perspective, however," you start, bending down so that you're face to face with him and his warm face. "It looks like you're hard from me yelling at you." He feels himself getting even harder and he squeezes his eyes shut, not daring to look at you.

"You know, you're actually right." Kuroo flitches, not expecting to hear your voice so close to his ear. "Unlike what people might think, I don't read books back here all the time."

Kuroo is bright red by now, not daring to open his eyes, and instead lowers his head. He swears that if he does, he'll cum right on the spot from seeing you above him looking down with those eyes of yours.

Your warm breath fans his ear and he can't suppress the shiver that runs through his body.

"W-what do you mean?" The question comes out as a cute whisper. You smirk. "Well, who do you think gave all your friends those hickeys, hm?"

You draw back, watching him slowly open his eyes as the cogs in his head turn as he thinks. Fuck. He looks so adorable when he's confused with his eyebrows furrowed and lips forming a small pout.

That's until he realizes and you can't help but grin when it shows upon his face.

"Your friends are all rather adorable, you know? Especially Kenma. They're such good listeners when I tutor that I can't help but give them a little reward. They were even in the same exact position that you're in right now! All teary-eyed as they oh so kindly begged me to touch them."

Tears prickle Kuroo's eyes.

"Aww, are you jealous?" You feign a pout. "Why? Is it because you only want me to do this to you?"

He immediately nods his head, not caring about his reputation anymore. He just wants you to focus on him and forget his friends.

"How cute." You carefully land on your knees in front of him and untie the tie from his neck and instead use it to tie his hands behind his back. You put one of your hands on the bookshelf behind him to stable yourself.

His breath quickens when he feels your hand ghost over his chest. His senses are heightened as he patiently waits for you to do something. Anything!

"You sure you want to continue?" He nods again.

A whimper escapes him as you immediately scrunch his vest and shirt up, exposing his nipples to the cold air. He feels you place your knee between his legs and a hand on his chest.

He can't quiet his noises as you begin stimulating his whole body. A part of him tries to focus on either you teasing and touching his nipples or the knee that keeps on rubbing against his clothed dick but he can't. Only minutes in and he's already hot all over. It's clear that he's enjoying it.

"Shh, be quiet Kuroo. Don't want everyone to know that you're such a whore for me, right?"

Sobs, mewls, and whimpers leave him as he gets used like a toy for you. He doesn't care that others may hear him, he just wants you to keep going. He's so hard that it hurts.

"Look at you," you say with a sneer, "I barely touched you and you're already so hard. Are you always like this with all the other girls you've fucked? A slut?"

"S-stop it," he sobs, "I'm not h-hard- ah ah!" He gasps as your knee drives against his hard-on and your hand tweaks one of his nipples, watching as he throws his head back slightly and bites his lip to keep his noises in.

"Oh really?" You raise an eyebrow at him. "Then what's this obvious tent in your pants then, hm?" You prove your point by sharply thrusting your knee against it again, forcing another muffled whimper to escape him.

He tries hiding his face by turning it to the side but you immediately grab his chin using your free hand and force him to look at you.

"Don't," you start to say, giving him a glare. "Try covering your face. Got it?" He nods obediently and you can't help but smile.

"Good boy," you say, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. He whimpers at that.

"Oh? Who knew the school's fuckboy would love being called a good boy so much? Maybe I should call you that in front of your friends." You shrug casually. "You know, to see their reaction as your face flushes up and dick hardens. Hell, I bet you'll even like that."

He widens his eyes.

"N-no! Pleas- fuck!" He's close and you know it. Another timed squeeze of his nipple and move of your knee against his dick has him crying. It feels too good.

A tug of his hair elicits a mewl from him as he feels you bite a spot on his neck that has his eyes rolling. You continue biting and licking that spot until you're sure that it'll stay purple for a few days.

Licking your lips, you move back slightly, not enough that you have to stop your movements but enough for you to check out your work.

With his legs spread open, head thrown back, neck marked, and face flushed, Kuroo looked absolutely breathtaking.

"I-Im close!" And it looks like Kuroo is about to cum too. You take a quick glance at the clock and grin. You lean towards his ear.

"Time's up, Kuroo."

Your whisper makes him jump but right when he's about to tell you that he's going to cum, a louder voice from far away shakes him out of his headspace.

"Library closes in 5 minutes!" You stop. No no no.

Quickly standing up, you give him a slight shrug. "Guess the tutoring session is over, Kuroo."

"No! Please! D-don't go!" Ignoring his pleas and sobs, you grab your stuff and right as he thinks you're heading back to him, you only just untie his hands and nothing more.

As you're about to walk out of his sight, he sees you aim your phone at him and click the screen. After, you blow him a kiss and a wink.

"Next session is tomorrow! Don't be late!" And then you're gone, leaving Kuroo all sweating and still hard. Fuck.

Let's just say that he got to next the session rather early.

ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink

╰┈➤ masterlist | rules

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heytheredeann · 1 year ago

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#tmfu#napoleon x illya x gaby#of course my pet peeve is people making napoleon out to be impulsive and kind of dumb#man’s a world class thief you better believe he’s good at planning#just look at his extraction of gaby from east berlin#meticulously planned#is he good at improvising#yes#that doesn’t mean he’s always going off half cocked#if anything I think he’d be LEAST likely to tbh#anyway sorry for the essay in your tags#this is lovely ely (@cha-melodius)

HEAD, HEART, HANDS.

#don't apologize these are good tags yes yes #i feel like he drives illya insane because he DOES meticulously plan everything but he doesn't. share.#so like they discuss plan A and B #maybe even plan C if they feel like torturing themselves with the extra argument #except napoleon has already plan D and E and F prepared Just In Case and instead of sharing with the class he just. goes for it #what it's not his fault if given how the situation turned out plan E worked better! survive adapt overcome peril!#also i feel like his 'i just improvised this with what i had' plans are the best though #like when he had to go save illya and he drove a whole ass truck into a boat? immaculate #though to be fair his carefully prepared plan did involve driving a car between two buildings so maybe that's just who he is #he is also kind of impulsive imo in the sense that he suffers from shiny object syndrome #but he can multitask! just deviate a little from plan F to get the shiny thing and ops now it's plan G #it's all so carefully planned with his brain accounting for all the variables but from the outside? A MESS #no one knows what he plans on doing ever #he's like the guy taking out endless weapons from his clothes except it's with plans #illya having sat him down before a mission: “I SAID ALL OF THEM COWBOY”#napoleon: *begrudgingly takes out a tiny sticky note with a plan Q written on it*#........okay this got away from me looool #but also i remember a poster with napoleon being called 'the mastermind' so like this is kind of canon to be fair #and also while we are at it my two cents on the other two going off half cocked:#gaby is not very patient and hates everything and everybody so like. yeah.#illya likes planning and being meticulous about stuff but at the same time #he is cursed with the knowledge that he can punch his way out of pretty much anything #'yes i have good plan. i will follow my plan. and if it doesn't work i just kill everybody' WELL YEAH PROBABLY WHY NOT #.......what were you saying about walls of tags sara looooool #illya x napoleon x gaby #not spn #tmfu #ely has shit to say #cha-melodius #my edit

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newfallstrangeleaves · 1 year ago

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Yandere bully

Vortex

M!Yandere x F!Reader Warning: Mentions of bullying, violence, making out (little bit of suggestive at the end) Summary: Dylan has always had a hard time with his emotions, but when you come along everything seems to amplify. Author's note: Finally here! As promised to @xvth2244 ❤ I read your other ask and it's not exactly what you wrote but I hope it's still good nonetheless!

“Move nerds.” Dylan says as he practically smashes into a group of boys while on his way to class. Items fly out of their hands as they fall to the floor. Dylan chuckles as he grabs a colorful pen case. The boy who presumably is the owner of said pen case gets up and grabs hold of Dylan's arm.

“Hey, give it back!” He tries to come across as confident, but his inability to keep eye contact gives him away.

“And if I don't. What are you going to do then? Huh?” The boy looks down on the floor, defeated. “Yeah, I thought so.”

He lets out a sigh of relief. The summer has come to an end and school starting again is always such a stressful period and those interactions are such a good outlet. Have always been. When things get too overwhelming, feelings you can't control, then taking to anger and aggression has always been a quick fix. You get mad, blow it on some kid that walks by, and then it's gone again.

Of course, he still has his regulars. The unfortunate that has been targeted solely because they give the right reactions, right when he needs them to.

If he feels that today is a good day to make someone cry then he knows a good group of nerds he could corner and threaten. If he is in need to blow off some steam though punches then nothing is better than getting into a fight with one of the jocks. It's easy to get them upset, all you have to do is mention their fragile ego, works way better than calling their girlfriend a slut.

Though he doesn't always win these fights and will definitely get hurt, the rush is far better than if he were to beat up one of the nerds. A fight is not a fight without resistance.

And this has worked pretty well. Sure he gets in trouble and sure he has pretty much no friends in school. The only people who dare go near him and that he has some respect for are his bandmates. But he likes it that way.

All of this was fine until you showed up. There was nothing unique about you, just another girl in the sea of others. You kept smiling and making small talk with the people at your locker. You seemed to make friends quickly. Fine, that doesn't bother him.

But what did bother him was your cluelessness. Dylan sat down at his usual spot by the window. Not a soul sat down within his proximity.

Except you.

You smiled and sat down in the empty seat next to him. How can you not realize there could be a reason that no one was sitting with him? He had half a mind to show you what you so clearly couldn't see.

Dylan spent nearly half the lecture glaring in your direction and you, seemingly unaffected, kept taking note of whatever the teacher was talking about. Then you tried to erase something only to realize the eraser was all dried up. With a sigh, you turn to him and whisper;

“Do you have a spare one?”

One sentence was all it took; like lightning, it shot through him, an emotion he couldn't quite understand.

For a moment he just stared at you. Then without a word he scrambled in his backpack for what you asked for. He was sure the pen case he snatched earlier was still in there. When he finally got it he realized the whole case was covered with Pokemon characters. It was way too late to hide now, you had already seen it and let out a giggle. He could practically feel his face glow red.

Now he feels an emotion he definitely could describe. Embarrassment. Something he definitely wasn't very fond of feeling. Without a word, he stood up, slammed the pen case in front of you and stormed out of the classroom.

Getting away from school grounds felt like a good idea until the second his bandmates came into view. Ben, with his buzzed hair and nose ring, hangs over Samuels’ shoulder and Samuel, who looks like a hairier version of Kurt Cobain looks bothered. Could be because of something on his phone or Ben hanging. Dylan, who doesn't feel like now is the right time to have a chat, attempts to turn the other way. But mid-turn he gets spotted.

“Hey! Dylan! What's up?” Ben calls out and motions for him to come and sit down. Unfortunately, there is nothing he can do other than comply. Perhaps they will see that he is seething and leave him alone.

“How's school?” Samuel asks nonchalantly.

“What are you? My mother?”

“Sooo there is no reason that your face is a tomato and that you're walking around with your fists clenched.” Samuel asks not even lifting his head from his phone.

“Why would you even care?! What are you even looking at?” Dylan asks and rips his phone from him.

“It could be our first gig. So give that back.” Samuel says sternly and holds out his hand. Dylan looks quickly over the messages before he hands it back.

“What? But the 26th that would be this Saturday? What's that? Like 5 days from now?”

“Yeah, yeah, that's how it is in showbiz.” Samuel says as he goes right back to typing yet another message.

“Huh, a girl is coming over here.” Ben announces all of a sudden. With a sigh, Dylan turns to face you once again.

“Hi, I was just going to return this.” You pant and hold out the pen case.

“It's not mine.” He says cloudy.

“Hey! Aren't you suppose to be in class?” Ben says and raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, well, I… Yes. I suppose I should be. But it's the first day of school. I'm not going to miss anything important.” You say and shrug. “Besides, I wanted to apologize for laughing. I just thought it was cute and…”

“It's not mine!” His skin crawls at your words, or maybe it's because you're standing way too close.

“Sooo, are you free Saturday?” Samuel interrupts. A shy blush falls over your cheeks and Dylan can practically feel his blood boiling. Of all the things that could have happened at this moment, nothing could bother him more than this.

“Oh, well I suppose, what's the occasion?” You ask.

“Well, we’re playing at the brewery. I think they are announcing some new beer or something and they ask us to play. Thought maybe you would want to come.” He says in his usual nonchalant way.

“Oh! I would love to!” You practically shine at the invitation. “What time should I be there?”

“It starts at 8 but if you show up at 7 you can experience what it's like backstage.”

“Sounds good, oh I should head back to class, I'll see you there then.” You say as you head back to the school building. Samuel gives you a nod. He waits for you to get inside before he turns to Dylan.

“Got you a date.”

“Fuck you.”

“Hey, what happened with thank you?” Ben chimed in with an awful grin.

“Shut up, both of you!”

A week has passed, the time is ticking towards 7 and Dylan can't seem to get his nerves straight. His leg keeps bouncing up and down.

“Why did you invite her?” Dylan whines but none of the other boys seems to pay him any mind and keep working on their instruments. “She will just be in the way.”

“Riiiight, a distraction. You know it's a good thing you brought her up. You should go meet her at the door. I can’t imagine she would be let backstage just like that.”

“Hey guys!” Though your voice makes his heart beat like never before by some miracle he is able to conceal it.

“Hm, Weird.” Samuel mumbles as you sit down beside Ben and his guitar on the floor. Ben starts up one of his guitar pick stories right away.

Not a minute goes by without Dylans' eyes leaving you. Though he should prepare himself, he can't help it. He studies your every movement, from the way you use your hands to the way your eyes wrinkle when you smile.

Time ticks by quicker when you're here and suddenly there is not long before the show starts. Samuel excuses himself for the bathroom and not far thereafter does Ben leave to help with the speakers. Then there are only the two of you left and silence falls over the room.

“So, are you nervous for tonight?” You ask.

“No, I feel normal.” He answers plainly, he can see out of the corner of his eye how you frown and shift in your seat.

“You know, I am sorry for embarrassing you earlier this week.” You say.

“I wasn't embarrassed.” His jaw clenches uncomfortably and he keeps his eyes fixed on the importance of keeping his drumsticks polished.

“Now, I know you say that. But you keep being upset with me.”

“I'm not upset.”

“Yeah, sure. Alright, whatever the problem is just know I didn't mean it.”

“There is no problem! Just… shut the fuck up.” He shouts, throwing the drumsticks across the room. Standing up, he towers over your sitting form. Everything about you at this moment makes his skin prickle, from the fear that falls over your whole demeanor to the fact that you are so small in comparison to him. Finally, you're scared.

How can that make him feel worse? How can that not scratch the itch?

He grabs hold of a lamp that sits so neatly on the table and throws that too across the room. The motion makes you flinch.

He can’t recover from this. As he feels his blood start pumping he knows he can't hold himself back anymore. The second he grabs hold of your arm it's game over. You gasp and he loses all sense of himself. He rushes forward slamming his lips into yours. The force makes both of you fall back onto the floor.

His entire body is on top of you. His lips are forceful, devouring you. Your body is pressed so impossibly close to his. He can't keep track of where his hands are, if they are planted on the floor or roaming your body he can't tell. His mind is in a buzz at the moment.

“Dylan, you're up soon.” You say as you pull away, trying to get some air. But he can't stop, he continues planting kisses and sucking on your neck. He sucks on one spot in particular that gets a whine out of you, which further spurs him on. He goes back to making out with you, slowly grinding onto your core.

“Dylan…” Whatever you want to say gets suffocated between your lips.

As his hands are fighting to get something off, his pants, your pants, it doesn't matter, Ben comes hurrying through the door.

“Whoa, sorry, sorry, I just needed my guitar pick, that's all.” He takes a step over the two of you to get it from the table. The eagerness dies down with the interruption. As Ben is hurrying out again he stops for just a second at the door.

“You know, you do what you gotta do, but we start in five and if you're late Sams’ not going to be happy.” He says before he speeds out the door.

“I have to go.” Dylan says breathy as he hurries to grab his drumsticks.

“Good luck.” You tell him, still on the floor trying to gather yourself and button your pants back up.

#male yandere #yandere #yandere x y/n #post apocalyptic #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male #tw yandere #yandere bully #bully yandere

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ask-pjo-hoo-toa · 4 months ago

Text

ᴀʀɪsᴛᴏᴛʟᴇ ~ ᴘ. ᴊᴀᴄᴋsᴏɴ

req. none :)

summary. just a fluffy little thing about studying and basketball. you and percy are dating and you are a child of athena! you're trying to help him study...

warnings. use of (y/n), gn!reader, short as hell

eeli0r's notes. just wanna say i dont do smut no exceptions :) also: loosely inspired by that tswizzle lyric from so high school "you know how to ball, i know aristotle"

thursday, december 3

you and percy are hunched over a book, specifically an english textbook on the poetic teachings of aristotle.

you, as a child of athena, are quick to understand the teachings, and you're helping your boyfriend, percy jackson, study them for his test the next week.

"baby, focus," you say to him.

"okaaay," percy says. "fine. but i have a basketball game next week too. and it's in the cold. december, hello?"

you smile at him. "i'll be there to see it, i promise, but you have to focus right now."

percy sighs dramatically. "(y/n), why oh why would you do this to me?"

"because i want you to pass this class, love. you know, i'm a child of athena, i'm pretty much the best person for this."

as you continue to study, pulling your boyfriend back to focus every few minutes, you finally start to get somewhere. he's doing good, answering questions correctly most of the time, and you're glad about it.

when he gets the last part of an especially difficult section correct, you say "love!!! you're so good at this!!!" and kiss him.

percy laughs. "thank youuu," he sing-songs. "aristotle's also thanking you from wherever he is for getting your helpless boyfriend to finally learn his poetic teachings, (n/n)."

you grin. "you're not helpless, m'lord. you are sooo good at this, i swear."

he pulls you into a hug and peppers your face with kisses. "you're better. i love you, (n/n)."

as you keep studying, his hand finds yours on the book and curls around it. he's warm compared to your ice-cold touch.

thursday, december 10

the day of the test. everyone's putting down answers and you're doing well, as a child of athena, so you're more worried about percy.

an hour later, the exam is finished and you hand it in. you see percy, across the room by the door, waiting for you.

"hi love," you greet him. "how'd you do?"

he leans forward and kisses you. "pretty good, i think. thanks to you of course."

"babe, you're the one who retained the information," you say, taking his hand and walking out the classroom.

"right, right, i forgot." he gives you a cheeky grin. "my basketball game is in an hour. i need to go prep. see you there, love!"

you walk to the dorms of your college and kiss goodbye as he disappears into his dorm to get ready.

one hour later, you make your way to the ball court and sit down next to a few other people, an old woman and what looks to be her wife, a little boy sitting next to his mom and dad, and who you were hoping to see---percy on the court, his mom and paul sitting in the level above you, and estelle tugging on your sleeve.

"(y/n)!" estelle says brightly, slightly mispronouncing her name because of her age. "hi!!"

"hi, stelly," you say, ruffling her hair.

as the game starts, your eyes stay on percy, and you and estelle whoop the loudest when he makes a shot. every time, he looks at you and estelle and smiles, because he knows it's you and his sister.

the clock ticks, 20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15...

...14, 13, 12, 11, 10...

...and it's a tie, with five seconds left, percy has the ball and...

the buzzer goes off a fraction of a second after he makes the winning shot.

"WHOOOOOOOO!" you shout at the top of your lungs. "WHOOP PERCY!!!!"

your boyfriend doesn't bother talking to his friends afterward, just runs up to you and hugs you tight.

"that was amazing!" you say as he lets you go. "that was literally amazing!"

he flips his jet-black hair. "of course it was, (n/n), i was playing."

"you are the best player on the team. alright, alright, love, let your sister hug you."

estelle hugs percy and says, "so good! so good!"

percy laughs. "thank you, stelly and (n/n). i guess i'm actually decent at basketball."

"come on, babe, we need to go get ice cream for a reward. you too, stelly, and sally, and paul." you nod to the individuals as you refer to them.

monday, december 14

as the teacher's passing out tests, you can't help but feel incredibly nervous even though you're sure you did well.

A+ 'good job'

you knew it. but how did percy do?

he looks at you from across the room (you sit in the middle-front, he sits in the back) with shining eyes. 'A+,' he mouths.

you do a fist pump to him before your teacher clears his throat. "(y/n)? percy?"

"ah, uhm, sorry," you both say in unison, before dissolving in giggles because, let's be honest, who wouldn't?

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #hoo #toa #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fandom #Spotify

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animeredhead101 · 5 months ago

Text

Danny Gets Adopted DP x DC Crossover

Completed

Run to the Belfry by JollieRancher :

Danny is running from the GIW and lands in Gotham. The only warning he got before things went wrong were the words "Run to the belfry" on a sticky note. He doesn't know what a belfry is, but running is his only way to avoid capture. When a superpowered teen passes out in Batmans arms, Bruce decides to take him home. Word Count: 11,900

Gotham is Haunted by ArtemisMoore :

A kid is running around with jet black hair and impossibly blue eyes. Prime adoption bait for Bruce Wayne. But that's not why he has slowly gotten the attention of the members of the family. Homeless, skittish, disheveled, and quick to help the kid seems to be hiding from something - or somebody. He's scared and they want to know why. But other than his appearance and the name 'Danny' nothing is known about the kid.

At the same time they're dealing with 'Danny' a new Meta appeared in Gotham, a ghost with snow white hair and toxic green eyes named 'Phantom'. He's tired, sad, and just wants to go home. But something is preventing him from leaving. Something... or someone.

What are the two kids running from? Are they connected?

Will the bats find out before either kid ends up in serious trouble?

Word Count: 16,266

Grave Promises by Blueseabird2 :

Danny Fenton had nowhere to go and no one he could turn to without putting them in danger. Except, perhaps, the hero who'd cared for, respected, and trained Danny for all too short a time. Dick Grayson had never told anyone he'd once been trapped in the Ghost Zone. He'd also never forgotten the promise he'd made sure to get from Danny Phantom. Jason didn’t know what was going on but he was really very pissed that there was another kid with a y-shaped scar on their chest and eyes that feel like frozen reflections of home. Thankfully, there were suddenly several new targets for his rage and Dick seemed rather more inclined to join Jason than stop him. Word Count: 53,882

But I will hold on hope, and I won't let you choke by ghostly_frogly :

After the destruction of his hometown and being hunted by the GIW at the age of 14 Danny didn’t know what to do. He debated going to the Ghost Zone and living the rest of his life and afterlife there when he encountered a group of ninjas. The details of how and why are still lost to him but in the moment he fought. He fought and let out as much anger, frustration, and sorrow as possible. His eyes turned green and his fists were shaking and bruised from the fight.

Surprisingly, or maybe not with the life he lives, this isn’t the last time the ninjas come after him. He fights more and more off until he meets the man sending the ninjas his way. He is offered training by a man named Ra’s Al Ghul. Danny jumps at the chance, thinking how he could finally run away from his problems or fully die trying.

Danny runs away from everything he's ever known when it is all taken from him. Seeing no better option he joins a cult-like group of assassins. What could go wrong?

Word Count: 6,521

Prankster for Hire by thatshrubbery :

Danny thought he was pretty good at this whole harmless haunting thing. Really, it felt like he was doing good deeds through his pranking. Pull a few pranks on customers, drive up sales for the coffee shop as the rumor mill (correctly) begins claiming the place is haunted. Perfect symbiotic relationship. When Danny can't pass up the opportunity to continuously prank a certain regular, he finds himself being hired as an elite prankster the likes of which Gotham’s vigilantes have never seen. Steph is in love with the new coffee shop in town. The aesthetic? To die for. The vibes? Immaculate. The glitter markers? Genius. So, when a certain straw-stealing halfa steals one straw too many, she takes it upon herself to assemble her own first-class squad of Ghostbusters to handle the problem Batman style and bring one (1) prankster into the fold. Word Count: 46,702

Contractual Obligations by Calix, Tathartiel :

Danny is doing his kingly duties when a demon breaks into a meeting demanding the king’s soul. Now Danny has only a few months to find his birth father and nullify this soul contract or else he becomes a slave to the demon on his 16th birthday.

Word Count: 114,383

It Takes Three Days to Get Adopted by corkinavoid :

Danny is just doing Jazz a favor. Pretty simple favor, actually, check out the haunted house her boyfriend's family lives in. And of course, being the responsible sister, she has already made all the arrangements, so all he has to do is just show up, walk in, look around, maybe kick some ghost butt out, maybe deal with some shades or possessed artifacts. Easy. Wait, isn't this the Wayne manor? No, it's okay. Not every rich person has a weird secret basement, he'll be fine. What are the chances of another billionaire deciding to adopt him on sight? (Damn it, Jazz! You knew, didn't you?!) Just another Danny adoption fic, yes. Word Count: 50,143

Scrawny kid and the Batmobile by PickleofwhichisFickle64 :

Danny on the run from the GIW, stuck as a 10 year old, winds up in Gotham. He spots the Batmobile and decides to add a new feature to it. Dick Grayson is confused as to why a small child is elbow deep in the engine of the Batmobile.

Word Count: 7,185

On-going

Knight of the Boyking by Milaley :

There is a child hiding behind him. A glowing, powerful and possibly ghostly child with a flaming crown hovering above their head but a child, nonetheless. Older than Damian but younger than Tim. They are clutching onto the fabric of his batman cape with one shaking hand, making themselves as small as possible, trembling with fear. There are two guns pointed at Batman by a pair of muscular men wearing white suits and dark sunglasses. These two things are connected. An injured Danny runs to Batman for protection and in turn, makes the Dark Knight's life a lot more complicated. Word Count: 49,196

It may feel like an ending (but the battle's just begun) by NotSoStarCrossed :

He can't believe this is how he’s meeting his bio mother. It was never something he thought he’d have to do alone. — Lois could no longer push her baby into the someday. He had burst, rather abruptly, into the now. OR Lois had a kid she gave up for adoption and Danny can't seem to stop running. OR Danny's on the run after his friends and family were killed by the GIW. After escaping from Vlad he runs to the only place no one will look for him, the home of his birth mother Lois Lane. Word Count: 13,160

Alien Boys by Zylev :

With Amity Park destroyed, Danny falls through a portal that sends him to another Earth. The Justice League assume he’s an alien and treat him as such—but Danny might be more of an alien than he would’ve thought. Based on: This Word Count: 84,756

We Could Be Home by MyNameIsJag :

Danny has been deaged, he is hungry and very angry. Given his tiny body and fluctuating powers, there's not much he can do about that. He has questions that need answers, why is he here, where is his family, what is going on? Also why is everyone so weird? Danny gets thrown into Omegaverse DC, coming from somewhere were that is a fanfiction category, it's a bit of a culture shock. Poor Danny has so navigate this world with new rules he doesn't know or understand. Find a way home, maybe find out what happen to the him from this universe, and try not to get attached. The Batfam are just excited for the new pup in the family. Word Count: 13,385

Ghost King in Gotham (On Temporary Hiatus) by GDogDfeld124 :

Danny Fenton moves into Gotham to get away from the GiW and his parents. Luckily for him he got a scholarship to Gotham University and could move in without trouble. Everything goes haywire when one day while doing his homework he gets summoned. _____________ Planning for this one to be a long one. Trying not to make this crack. Word Count: 74,968

r/AITA for not wanting to clean the BASEMENT? by SaturdayNightFrights :

Danny doesn’t have many people to turn to about the minor issues in his life. So he does what any normal teenager in today’s time does: makes a post on Reddit.

Word Count: 17,091

Found Family by EvaDragon :

Danny Phantom is rescued from GIW by Batman and Superman, panics and runs from the heroes mid-flight back to the Watch Tower. He is then found by Bruce Wayne in Gotham. Bruce convinces the still injured Danny to convalesce at Wayne Manor. After spending time in Wayne Manor, Danny's core overrides his brain, and Danny spills his deepest secrets. Damian, to everyone's surprise, is the first to approach Bruce about adopting Danny, and is also the first to try to convince his siblings about the adoption. Damian's siblings are very much onboard with this plan, as most of them were at the Watch Tower when Danny was rescued. Now they just have to convince Danny that being in a family of multibillionaire vigilantes isn't all that bad. Word Count: 11,375

Experiment 666- project failure by Daemonshadowfox :

Let it never be said, Batman does have a heart. However, taking home the creature brings new issues to the house. Alfred is happy however, he has a new grandchild to take care of and the rest of the Bat-Clan is happy to have someone new to play with. Enjoy the chaos that happens when Danny joins the Bat-Clan.

Word Count: 18,215

Going Broody by bloggerspam :

When a suddenly de-aged Danny meets Black Canary in the middle of a battle, he accidentally ghost-wails at her...except all it does is push her back a couple feet. ....And make her think he's the cutest Lil' Canary in the world. Word Count: 19,866

#danny phantom #ao3 fanfic #crossover fanfiction #danny fenton #dc universe #dp x dc crossover #batman #justice league #superman #nightwing #red hood #robin #red robin #orphan #spoiler dc #signal dc #black canary

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obzessed · 5 months ago

Text

HP characters : powerpoint presentation headcanon

This is so random but here is how I imagine marauders' era characters doing a powerpoint presentation

The Marauders

Do over the top presentations, (down to using costumes, yes) would make the wildest powerpoint (too many colors because they can’t agree on anything)

They make it really fun and entertaining tho

use the airplane (flying broom ??) transition, except the airplane is on fire for some reason

indian drama level of presentation

Will Not stop giggling and interrupting each other

Jocks in middle school vibe, but they’re actually really smart

here to clown and have a laugh

generally get a high grade but get points deducted for clarity and taking too damn long

Severus Snape (+bonus Lily Evans)

In a solo presentation, Severus would make perfect, pristine presentation

King of bullet points

University standards powerpoints

only uses peer reviewed articles

always criticizes said peer reviewed articles

Never uses notes, but doesn't look the audience in the eyes ever

Doesn't look at the audience period

He's not shy, he doesn't even do it consciously

Extremely complicated subjects, Will Not Dumb It Down For You

If anyone has a question, will look at them as if they’re the biggest idiot in the room

The type to explain by simply reformulating what he just said

If they still don’t understand either sighs dramatically and moves on, or sighs dramatically and start drawing on the board, speaking veeeryyyyy slowly, you let me know where I lost you idiot fellow classmate

Actually explains really well when he puts in some effort, has this clean cut way of decomposing each problem and detailing each point, then tying it all back together that makes it really easy to follow

writing on the board and drawing legitimately helps him lay out his thought process

the condescension is just a plus

Type of presentation that is objectively very good and interesting and well thought out but like. no one cares. bring back the airplane transitions.

For a few people sufficiently advanced and interested and who actually understand what he’s talking about, (and who are not rebuked by his style and general attitude), it’s a v good presentation

Positive : Always adds something new and generally brings really pertinent arguments, genuinely passionate about what he’s talking about

Teachers pick up on his fast out of the box thinking and surprising creativity

his powerpoint design is a little depresso, no colors except to highlight important words

very minimalist and to the point

Regulus argues every point of his presentation

Academic rivals to lovers frfr

Gets point deducted for his attitude and his “lack of enthusiasm”

NOW Severus + Lily = best of both worlds, get an O everytime

Lily always insists on using canva (their pwp designs are so cute)

overall they balance each other really well

I feel like Lily would get a little giggly if she fumbles

The marauders would def shout “boring” and giggle like middleschoolers at the back of the class during Snape's presentation

Snape's ability to remain unfazed in the face of bs stems from there

God help them all if they get paired up for a presentation

Marauders + Severus

Snape would have to settle for at least one airplane transition

It would become a war of adding and deleting each other's progress on the pwp design

they split it in two but they try to gain terrain on the other's part like in Clash of Clan

They are at WAR

“I am a commander in battle and your slides are but a village on a map” James Potter

“Fuck you” Severus Snape

“Go jump off an airplane if you like them so much”

Somehow the presentation is even more chaotic than the previous one

passive aggressively asks the other to click on the next slide

always takes the other's question just as they're about to speak

If Snape sees a single one of them look at their notes for too long it's on sight (RIP Pettigrew)

Bc Fuck if he's gonna lose points over this

best or worst grade

lots of brain cells

Teacher tried to make the braincells hold hands but the brain cells are Enemies

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pixiekwixie · 1 year ago

Text

The Observation - 1

➺ Miguel O'Hara x Reader || Mature, 18+

➺ Summary - In which Miguel struggles to keep his hands and eyes off his lab assistant.

- Next chapter

➺ warnings - slow burn(?), kissing/making out(?), lot sexual tension, story night be long sorry, some choking, some biting, masturbating (nipple play, fingering, dildo usage, anal play, double orgasm), mentions of breeding

➺ words - 3.7k

➺ notes: i had to get this off my chest, there will be 2 more parts to this, i hope you guys enjoy it. this is also cross-posted to (depending on where you're reading this) tumblr, and ao3; let me know what you guys think; might also write some wholesome sunshine x moody stuff in the future if it works out :)

--- 🕷 ---

"Hey" a voice said from the corner. Startled, you whip your head back to find Jessica caressing her tummy as she sat down on a chair, making herself quite at home. She was a couple of months along now and, by the looks of it, very comfortable in her pajamas.

"Jess, it's not safe for you and the baby...." you sigh, looking back at your computer to resume your work. Jessica urged you to take a break, to sit down and have a conversation but you only shrugged it off by mentioning you were almost done.

"You know, I'd thought you'd hate working here" she watched your back, waiting for a reaction. "There's a lot of wonderful technology here that my Earth doesn't have..." you trail off, focusing more on the work in front of you. You were so close to the end, and although Jess was wonderful, you just wanted to finish things before relaxing.

"I meant, I thought you'd hate working for Miguel"

You looked back at her with furrowed brows, pausing your work, she knew what made you tick and used that to her advantage. Miguel was your boss and there was nothing to hate except his attitude. Sometimes you couldn't stand him, but the combination of advanced technology, your own space, and a mini fridge- definitely outweighed any of his moodiness. It took a lot of convincing for you to join, and had you known he was this broody you probably wouldn't have joined.

At the beginning, you were stubborn on joining the Spider Society because you had thought it was a pity invite, given that you felt you were more intelligent than agile. Although you admit your body was pretty strong and durable- it was only because your parents had enrolled you in a strenuous amount of classes that ranged from dance to karate- and even cooking. The classes had helped with getting into a good college that allowed you to pursue your dream career, but you never sought out anything besides yoga.

When you got bitten by a radioactive Black Widow you thought it was the end of your story, that your years of classes and college were coming to an end, eventually you realized that you weren't actually dying. And as time went on you started to see the new things you could do, and you embraced them. You were excited, you began practicing moves and spent a lot of time learning how to use your webs properly. You felt like you could become a hero, save lives, and become a beacon of hope for your city.

After some rough events that left you feeling depressed, you decided that becoming a hero was no longer something you could pursue. You felt upset about your own decision for days, you felt useless doing nothing but you felt the same way doing something. The life of a hero felt emotionally, and physically, taxing on yourself and the people around you. With time you managed to overcome the guilt and began to understand that there were different ways save people.

Your new path was to be promoted at the Alchemax company in your world- they were good, you had deemed it so after hearing what they had done in other Earths. Eventually you wanted to lead a research department that could help hospitals, and homeless, worldwide.

Even though the current path was similar to that of a superhero, you still felt an immense guilt in your chest. You thought that your powers were a miracle that should be used, but you couldn't, it's not what you wanted anymore and if you went back now- it would only make things worse.

Miguel had spent many months sending Jessica to your dimension to convince you to join the Spider Society. Every time you gave a different reason to reject the offer, feeling as though you wouldn't bring much value to the team.

It only took the man himself showing up at your apartment, on a Tuesday at 3 am, for you to join. He explained thoroughly why he wanted you, although crude, you felt recognized for something other than your powers. It felt like he provided the missing reassurance you needed, you joined.

"He leaves me alone for the most part, the only interactions we have is him sending me emails, and me going to his 'office' to give him his drugs for the week," you let out a soft laugh, you had to admit, was very handsome under all of the stress, responsibility and arrogance. Despite his handsome looks, you still thought he was an asshole that needed to comprehend people better.

"He's demanding though, and... AND rude" rising from you chair, you scrunch your nose and walk to the coffee machine. There's only so much water could do for your nerves if you continued to speak about Miguel's attitude, as of recent it had been worse and you had no idea why. You tried to understand but he'd only shut you out and demand you leave him alone.

"He just want things to go accordingly for the multiverse... even if he's a little-"

"Harsh? Come on, he basically called me useless the other day because I misread the number seven- SEVEN" you raise your voice while adding stuff to your coffee. Holding the sugar container in one hand with a tight grip, it made you upset that he wasn't considerate of his words. You had worked hard to prove he could trust you, and that he hadn't made the wrong choice but his attitude made it hard to work with him.

"That's why I've been late on my reports, ideas, paperwork AND his serum. He needs to learn to respect people, especially me, who makes sure he doesn't go apeshit" Jessica raised an eyebrow at your statement, sure you could be late on paperwork but, being late to give him his liquid gold? The thing he needed to not lash out on his instincts? The thing that helped him keep his powers? She almost thought it was cruel, but she knew you felt stressed and didn't want to make it worst by making you feel bad.

"That sounds cruel but I promise it's not-"

Before Jessica could reply, a deeper voice spoke.

"Oh yeah? Let's talk about that"

It was Miguel and your heard started to pound faster, your hand gripped your coffee cup tight in hope that he hadn't heard what you said. Your nerves grew as you looked around and watched him emerge from a corner, his suit glowing bright with every step, even the way he walked spoke volume about his attitude.

Sure, you had problems with him but you sure as hell were not telling him about them, it's the last thing you needed. He had practically built this place from the ground up and could see everything that everyone was doing if he wanted to- even you, sometimes it creeped you but at this moment it felt erotic.

"Miguel she's stressed she probably didn't mean it, give her a break" Jess watched his back at he made his way towards you, "This isn't about you Jess" he spoke with a quick glance at her, her face dropped to a stoic expression that scared you and it wasn't even directed towards you.

"Miguel" you groan as you watched him walk towards you, hands on his hips as his eyes narrowed at you through his mask.

"I need to talk with you" he leaned down a little to your level, the eyes on his mask narrowed to mirror his face under it. Was he really that mad at what you had said? It's not like he hasn't said worse, except he usually doesn't feel bad about it.

Something about his proximity made you hot despite the growing tension, but it wasn't the nerves anymore, you suddenly felt hyper aware of everything around you but it all slowly led down to the man I front of you, something about him made you feel this way, something smelled so good and it was coming from him, was he wearing some type of cologne? What was so different?

"S-Seriously, you could at least tell me beforehan-"

"You wanna explain to me why-"

"Oh wow, I have to go to the gyno" Jess said abruptly while slowly getting up from her chair. You and Miguel turn to her with confused looks at the sudden declare but her eyes held the same expression as before.

She raised her hand to stop you from saying anything.

"I'm not gonna stick around for an argument, you two need to figure it out" she spoke with a look to Miguel. With a brief smile towards you she walked out the doors that shut behind her and the tension in the air became more obvious as the two of you were left alone.

"I give you one job, and it's to follow my formula, but instead you decide to be unprofessional and talk about me behind my back" Miguel's brows knit together as he looked down at you with glowing red eyes. You tried speak but nothing came out, not because you were intimidated, but because you felt your chest heave with heat at the sight of his crimson eyes.

Closing your eyes you take a deep breath to center yourself and shake off the feeling of imploding heat that was blossoming at your core. Looking back at him you found him pacing round while he muttered things in Spanish that made your tummy churn, pushing your feelings aside you take a deep breathe to center yourself.

Was this a hormonal imbalance?

"Why does it bother you so much this time? I told you 2 weeks ago I was backed up with stuff on my earth and that your-" You were abruptly interrupted with the speedy sight of him in front of you, his eyes were darker and held an intense look like he was analyzing your every feature. He was so close you could feel his breathing tickle the skin of your cheeks, it made the heat blossom inside of you again.

"I've been trying to hold it together and you think it's a game?" He seethed, inching closer until you could practically brush your nose against his, your heart pounded at the notion he was merely inches from being able to kiss you. Forgetting the coffee in your hand you attempt to raise a hand to his cheek but he stopped you by grabbing your wrist with a fast motion, the grip was tight but not hurtful. With a small wince you look up at him again only to see dark look wash over his features, were his eyes more vibrant now?

"Don't," he snarled, not breaking contact with your eyes. Why did you find his anger so attractive? There was something behind that look in his eyes that was pulling you in, the more you stood together the more your body felt attracted to him, so much so that you were starting to feel turned on with your walls pulsed in an erratic way that needed him.

Why the fuck is this happening?

"Y/n" he whispered in a way that made your back shiver, you noticed his eyes look relaxed and rather dazed like he was hot under his suit. Could he be feeling the same way as you? Did he want you as well?

"Y-Yes?" your voice was shaky, breathy, and basically pleading for him for him to do something.

His face slowly leaned down into yours, turning to the side only to brush his lips softly against yours w. Your eyes widened, you could practically hear your heart pounding in your ears as he finally pressed his lips against yours.

Moving against your lips slowly he lowered your wrist to the table behind you. The same hand he used now held your hip steadily as the kiss grew deeper, heavier, and wetter. His tongue prodded your lips and with a small squeeze to your hip you allowed for his tongue to explore your mouth.

Your head felt hazy, and your core pulsed more than before in anticipation. Pulling away from your mouth with a string of saliva connecting you both, you bat your eyelashes up at him with the hope that things progress into something more intimate.

His breathing was rapid yet heavy, and his eyes were full of lust and want with the way you looked up at him. His grip on your hip tightened as his eyelids drooped to admire the saliva on your lip that threatened to fall, before it could drip down to your chin he smashed his lips onto yours- licking the saliva into his own mouth.

His tongue lapped at your lips, and pushed through to feel every crevice within your mouth. With shaky hands you place your arms around his neck as you let him do whatever he pleased, weaving your fingertips into his hair you tug on them a bit which only earned a deep groan from him.

Pulling back from you, he stared intently into your eyes before abruptly wrapping a hand around your throat and applying pressure to the sides. Your eyes closed and your core pulsed repeatedly at the tightness of his hands around your neck, moaning softly into his face you open your eyes to find a droplet of sweat on his forehead.

"You like that, hm? Princesa?" He whispered into your ear, a whiny moan escaped your throat at the feelings of his lips on your ear, using the hand on your neck he maneuvered your face to the side- leaving your neck exposed to him.

You could feel your nipples were fully erect as they pressed uncomfortably against the material of your bra. Opening your eyes, you look down at him only see an intense, and hungry look on his face. Keeping his eyes locked onto yours he pressed his lips onto the delicate skin of your neck, planting small kisses that burnt onto your flesh in a savory manner that made your core gush with arousal.

"M-Miguel..." you mutter as you close your eyes to bask in the pleasure of his lips on your skin, tightening the grip on your throat he bit onto your neck unexpectedly. Gasping at the bite, your fingers held tightly at the hand he had wrapped around your neck- using it to stabilize yourself as he started sucking at your neck, the way his lips enveloped your skin and his tongue worked against you felt like he was trying to feed himself off you.

His actions came to a stop, the hand on your neck had gone too and you opened your eyes to be greeted by an empty view of your lab filled with bright-lit screens and papers scattered. Just like it was before Miguel appeared. Lifting your hand up to your neck you feel the marks of his teeth along with the saliva on your neck that left a warm spot at the touch. In a moment of heat and desperation you bring those fingers to your mouth and suck on them, he was gone for now and and the only trace you had of him was the remnants of his mouth n your neck. Sucking and licking the tips of your fingers making sure to intake any trace there was of him, moaning into your fingers you suck the tips before pulling them out and imagining they were his.

You were still in a hazy view of want and need for him, it would be hard to forget this moment if you saw him again. With blouse and slowly sat down on the floor, holding your chest with both hands you try to slow down your breathing.

"Where did you go..." you whisper to yourself as a pang of sadness hit your chest at the thought he left during a moment where you weren't arguing for once. It had all felt so good but to you, it would've felt better if he had stayed.

Calming down and regulating your breath you realized you would have to see him tomorrow to give him his dose for the next week. You didn't know if you wanted to see again after leaving you just like that.

You hated him for leaving you like that without a trace but you hated that you wanted so much more than just a couple nips to the neck.

--- 🕷 ---

Back in your universe, you were laid in bed watching TV as you thought about the events of earlier, the things he whispered into your ear, the way he touched you, the way his lips felt on your neck and the tight embrace he held around your neck.

Throwing the blankets off you head off your dresser where your dildo was. You had never really used it before as you were always busy with work but today was different, there was a man that awoke something inside of you that had laid dormant. And that man was your boss, Miguel.

Kicking your bottoms off you lie down on your bed again and spread your legs open letting cool air hit your nether lips in a tantalizing way. Discarding the dildo to the side, you bring one of your hands down to your pussy, rubbing in an upwards motion that spread the wetness up to your clit. Groaning at the sensation you rub your erect clit in a slow circular motion, the feeling alone had you throwing your head back with a breathy moan.

You drew your legs up and in until it was just your core fully exposed to the atmosphere of your room, circling your clit faster you used your other hand to lift up your shirt and and rub at your nipples with a feathery touch. The simultaneous stimulation made you moan as you felt your walls clench fast, you had been so desperate to relieve yourself that you could cum at any moment.

Pulling and twisting your nipples you start going faster, your breathing becoming more erratic and you could feel the coil in your abdomen start to come undone but before you could finish you stopped. Your pussy quivered at the denial as your chest hiccupped from the intensity of being so close to the end, it felt like your entire body was spasming and dripping with heat from the denial.

You throw your shirt off quickly and lie back down to spread yourself open again. Rubbing your fingers up and down with a moan you slowly insert two fingers inside of your wet warm walls that quivered around the length of your digits. Pumping your fingers in and out slowly you moan at the idea of his fingers being the ones inside you filling up your throbbing pussy. Hooking your finger in a little you lift you back from the bed at the sensation of your softest spot, pumping in particularly hard at an angle that made you pussy drip more liquid gold onto your sheets.

Your walls pulsed erratically around your fingers as you sped up, your mouth contorting into an 'o' as you felt yourself growing closer. Bringing your other hand down to rub your clit at the same pace you moaned his name as you continued to imagine it was him driving his fingers into your wet hole.

"F-Fuck M-Miguel-" your clit quivered and the coil in your belly came undone, your insides gripped onto your digits harder trying to prevent them from leaving, your body secreting juices that trickled down your anus and sheets.

Pulling your fingers out reluctantly you slide them down to your anus and circle the rim in a slow teasing manner that aroused you again. Pushing a finger inside your eyes fluttered at the pressure- you began to pump in and out in a very slow motion using the wetness from before that made it easier to move in and out.

With your other hand you rub the head of the dildo on your clit in a fast circular motion, hooking the finger in your ass you pumped faster while your clit quivered into a second orgasm. The walls of your ass started to clench as your finger brushed on the soft spot that sent shockwaves to your pussy. You started panting heavily as your pussy and ass throbbed simultaneously, getting closer towards being tipped over the edge you went faster, until your pussy started dripping onto the sheets again.

Pulling the finger out of your ass with a small pop, you grab the dildo and line up the tip with your dripping hole, you felt anxious and excited to be filled up with something thicker than your digits. You slowly ease the tip in, and with a loud moan you began to push the rest of the length inside of you until it fit snuggly in your walls.

"Miguel... fuck me p-please..." you whined as your pulled the dildo all the way out only to smack it back in, pumping in and out with a steady speed where length brushed against every itch within your walls that needed to be filled. Your started getting faster as you thought about him pumping himself inside of your pussy to breed you and use you for his own pleasure.

Your tummy churned as you started to near the edge again, the images of him bent over you driving his cock inside of you, filling you with his cum and knocking you up was enough to to send you over the edge. You slowly rode out your orgasm with the image of him painting your insides full of his seed and filling you up until you were dripping onto the sheets. Coming down to a stop you sighed as you body shook at the intensity, no one had ever made you so wet just by thinking about them.

Your body ached and yearned for him, it was truly strange as you had never felt this way for anyone before. Miguel was different and something about him had set your body ablaze in a way you couldn't stop.

"How the fuck am I going to face him tomorrow..."

--- 🕷 ---

#miguel #miguel ohara #fanfic #across the spiderverse #spider man #spider man 2099 #jessica drew #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #smut #spider man 2099 x reader #spiderverse #marvel

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galaxiasgreen · 4 months ago

Text

📚🐦‍🔥Stay With Me

Slow burn Garreth x F!Reader romcom-mystery [T-Rated, 5.6k words]

You don't meet his eye. "I've prepared you some questions, for this... tutorship." You unbuckle your satchel and take out not one, not two, but four rolls of parchment, one for each subject, and slide them across the table. "It's simple multiple-choice so I can figure out how much you know. It won't take you long to do." He stares at them, open-mouthed. "You've set me homework?"

Garreth Weasley is good at Potions… and not much else. You, a bookish, lonesome Ravenclaw with a weighted family secret, are good at everything… except Potions. Assigned together for a mutual tutorship, Garreth is sure he won’t meet anyone more boring.

But the potions lab isn’t the only place where sparks will fly.

Tropes: romance/ humour/ drama, slow burn, fluff, tutoring together, grumpy x sunshine, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, pining, love triangle, dark secret, sworn off love, Everyone Can See It.

[read on AO3, read on Wattpad]

A/N: Just to note, in this story Garreth and others fought Ranrok with MC. Enjoy!

He calls you Prim, mostly because you hate it.

It's not a nickname Garreth gives you for fun (though make no mistake, he loves to tease you with it). No, it's a nickname that's descriptive, deriving from your most cardinal trait. Prim, because you are. Prim and proper and academically minded. Meanwhile he's never had an aptitude for learning, preferring the freedom of exploration over the rigid structure of curriculum.

On paper, you seem like a match made in hell – but in practice? Well, he's always up for a challenge.

He doesn't get to meet you, though, until the dawn of his sixth year, when easy classes and free periods for the exam-weary older students are over. He doesn't even meet you on the day he first hears of you.

Back then, you were merely an illicit suggestion.

"I'm worried about you, Garreth."

He sinks into the chair in Professor Weasley's office. He's been here so many times now it practically feels like a second home, mostly for, ahem, disciplinary reasons, but there are the rare moments when his aunt calls him in for a quick catch-up, tea and biscuits, sometimes to discuss family news – a great grand-uncle dying or one of his cousins announcing a betrothal.

When the professor called him in this time, two days into the term, he thought maybe his parents were expanding their gnome collection and she wanted him to advise against it (there is such a thing as too many gnomes, and it's any number more than zero). Or maybe his sister Clara needed help adjusting to the school – she's a first year now, after all.

So it's like the rug is yanked from under him when she asks about his grades.

"It's two days into the autumn term, Auntie," he says, not prepared to have this conversation so soon. "What's there to worry about? I haven't even had all my N.E.W.T. classes yet."

"That's exactly what I wanted to discuss with you. You have so much potential, Garreth. You are incredibly bright and passionate, and I know you are capable of so much, but your O.W.L. scores left a lot to be desired, and I worry that you won't be able to handle the workload this year."

"Don't know if you remember," he says airily, "but I practically saved Hogwarts—"

"Yes, yes, last year in the caverns below with your friends, I know, Garreth. I was there." Her lips bunch. "But no school-saving antics will boost your grades. Your heroics are the only reason you don't have to repeat your O.W.L.s, and you won't have such an opportunity this time around."

He drops his head on the back of the chair, groaning. Imagine stopping a whole goblin rebellion... and still having to write history essays. He literally made history.

"Your father suggested something I actually like," she says, drawing Garreth's eyes back down. "It seems you need some motivation, and I know you work well when you're with your friends. Therefore he suggested you pair with someone. A mutual tutorship, if you will."

"You want to give me a study buddy?"

"Yes! Oh, I do like that phrasing much better."

"You can phrase it any way you want. Still wipes."

"Garreth..."

"Come off it, Auntie. What are they gonna' do? Sit with me doing every piece of homework I have? And I didn't flop at everything. I got an Outstanding in Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"Which were your only top grades, half of which because Hecat saw fit to reward your capabilities against Ranrok last summer," she remarks shortly, taking a piece of parchment. "You don't need a study buddy for those subjects. You do, however, need one for History of Magic, Astronomy, Divination and," she stares meaningfully over the rim of her spectacles, "Transfiguration."

He grins sheepishly. "As it happens, I know someone who's great at it?"

She sighs, putting the parchment aside and dropping into her chair. "I know you want to become a potioneer, Garreth, but even the most famous potioneers are well-rounded individuals and excelled in subjects outside of their specialty. Look at Professor Sharp! He was an Auror!"

"Okay, I get it, I get it." All this talk depresses him – all this knowing that he's a problem depresses him. "I promise I did try. I just— find revising very hard and demotivating. And you know, the whole saving-the-world thing..."

Professor Weasley gives him the look.

"I made it to N.E.W.T. classes, didn't I? I'll try this year, I will. You don't have to get me a... study buddy."

"Oh, but I think I do, and as it were, I happen to know the perfect student to match with you. A very bright young lady one year your junior, a Ravenclaw. She excels in all her subjects" – she pauses – "except Potions."

"So you want me to teach her Potions," he clarifies, "and her to teach me everything else?"

"That's right."

"Doesn't seem fair."

"I think you'll find it will be." She makes a knowing face that he doesn't like. "So, what do you say? Want to give it a try?"

"... Can I say no?"

"No."

He sighs. "Brilliant."

His schedule's already packed with classes and homework, now that his education's ramped up for sixth year, and he mulls on the extra work a mutual tutorship will bring for the next few days. Explaining it is even more difficult, when he has to tell Leander he's missing Quidditch for this.

"A study buddy?" he scoffs, as they lounge in the Gryffindor common room after classes that day. "Sounds right horrid."

"Tell me about it."

"Who're you pairing with? Do you know?"

"No idea. A Ravenclaw in the year below, apparently."

"A younger swot? Merlin's pelvis, couldn't she have put you with, I don't know, Amit? Or Everett? If she wanted a Ravenclaw?"

Garreth slouches. The sofas are so comfortable he doesn't want to move. "Bet she knew if she put me with either of them we'd get no work done, Everett because he'd be too busy trying to prank me, Amit because he'd be wasting time describing irrelevant extra stuff."

"Oh, no," Leander panics suddenly, "if this works then she might start doing it to all of us. I don't want a study buddy!"

"Relax. It's only because I'm her nephew that she's testing it with me."

He's sure his aunt wouldn't care quite so much if the same blood didn't run through their veins. After all, she has no children of her own – so Garreth and his sister are the closest she'll get. All her motherly affection, and motherly reprimand too, goes to them.

So when he gets the owl on Sunday afternoon to meet promptly in the library during lunch the next day, he sucks in his gut and resolves to at least try and have fun with it. He likes meeting new people, even if he doesn't like the circumstances – maybe he'll get along with the new Ravenclaw. Maybe they won't be as boring as he suspects.

He heads to the library the next day – late, mind, because he didn't particularly feel like rushing from Charms – and spots Professor Weasley waiting by the front desk.

That's the first time he sets his eyes on you.

Waiting placidly at his aunt's side, you're perfectly put together, not a hair out of place. Your waistcoat is straight, your long skirt starched, your shirt tucked in and top button done. You hold your books in your hand – because of course you do – and the satchel draped over your shoulder bulges with more of them.

You're the picture of a prim Ravenclaw student.

And it fills him with misery.

"Hello, hello," he says to you both, "sorry I'm late." Not.

You purse your lips, like you can detect his lie, but say nothing as his aunt gives him an admonishing glare. "That you are, Garreth. Did I not say you were to be prompt?"

"I grabbed some extra parchment, Professor," he makes sure to use her epithet in the presence of other students, "because I didn't know if I would need it."

By the way her brow loosens, it was a good lie. "All right. Come along, I've reserved a table for you both."

He decides to introduce himself to you on the way upstairs. "Nice to meet you."

You introduce yourself as well, but it's clear by your aloof eyes that you were also roped into this arrangement. "Nice to meet you as well," you repeat awkwardly, voice high with tension.

Turns out, Professor Weasley reserved an entire table, right at the back of the top floor. It seems unnecessary, the isolation, how you've obviously been coerced.

"Now, your proper sessions will take place after classes finish for the day, so for now I believe getting to know one another's style of learning would be most prudent." Professor Weasley ushers you to two seats next to each other. "I'll be sitting over there to keep an eye on you. Madam Scribner has given you both permission to have a quiet chat, so why not break the ice?"

It feels so forced Garreth would prefer to get a Howler right now, but under his aunt's stringent gaze, he plops onto the chair and tosses his bag under the seat. You draw out the seat gracefully, fold yourself upon it, and gently place your satchel, then books, on the table. There is method, he realises, to your movements.

"So..." he claps his hand awkwardly. "Where are you from?"

You clam up immediately, and he doesn't know why that's the wrong thing to ask, but he backtracks.

"Sorry, I mean – you know, where do you live?"

Your frown is still pronounced, but some relief breaths free. "London. You?"

"Devon."

"Right. I've never been there."

"It's nice. Except in the winter. Then the sea air is like murder."

Silence. He has a feeling he'll have to nudge all conversations, which is simply brilliant.

"Have any family?"

"Just my parents. They— they used to live in Asia, before coming here." You shift. "You? I mean, besides the professor."

"How much time do you have?" When you don't answer, he tugs his collar. Tough crowd. "Er, I have a younger sister. Clara, she's called. She's just started her first year. Little menace. Was hoping she wouldn't be Sorted into Gryffindor, but I guess it runs in the Weasley blood. Then there's my cousins, but there's so many that if I named them all you'd miss all your afternoon classes. Hey, maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing?"

You don't even crack a smile. This will be a long, painful conversation.

"Why don't we get started then?" he suggests instead, because the faster he does this, the faster he can leave. "I mean, discussing what we're meant to be, er, learning together? Shouldn't take very long for you if you're only failing Potions."

Your cheeks bloat. "I'm not failing. I just... need a little boost."

Touchy. Okay.

"Well, I'm not afraid to admit I'm failing."

"Yes," you say, and you list on your fingers as you go. "Transfiguration, History of Magic, Divination, and Astronomy. That's four subjects."

"Hey, last year it was five, but luckily I managed to wrangle a Kneazle before it bit Professor Howin, so she bumped up my grade." He's still quite proud of that moment. You make an unimpressed face. "What? You should be grateful we don't have collect Flobberworm mucus together."

"Okay, well, I've prepared you some tasks to complete."

His amusement drains like pus from a Bubotuber.

"What."

It's a statement of disbelief so sheer he doesn't even accompany it with the tonal flick of a question.

He stares at them, open-mouthed.

"You've set me homework?"

"It's not homework."

"It's work that I have to do in my own time. It's homework."

Your lip curls in displeasure. "Like I said, if I'm going to tutor you, I need to know how much you already know. Then I can incorporate it into my lesson plan."

"Your lesson plan?"

"How else are we going to know what to cover per session?" you ask, bewildered. "You must have something planned for me, right?"

Of course he doesn't. He was just going to give you potions to brew and point out where you'd gone wrong. He rakes a hand through his hair, thinking about whether he could get away pretending to have a stomach/ head/ knee/ butt ache.

"If you don't want to do it later," you say, "you can do it now. Then I can be prepared for our first official session."

How about I run and never look back? With his aunt's watchful gaze on his back, he reluctantly unfurls the first scroll. Transfiguration. You hand him a quill and inkwell and he surfs through, ticking the answers he thinks are right.

"You're not even reading the questions."

"Am too."

"Glancing your eyes over words isn't the same as reading."

Oh, Merlin, you will be the death of him. Sniffing indignantly, he slows down, actually taking time to read the questions. How many exceptions are there to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration? He tries the rest, though not very hard, because just reading this stupid parchment has left him perplexed, and hands the scroll to you when he finishes.

He's halfway through puzzling when Geminis are born for the Divination quiz – he guesses February – before you roll his parchment up again.

"So? What's the verdict?"

You can't control the grimace on your face, and it's all he needs to know.

He's a total shambles. A failure.

"It's not— unsalvageable," you say hastily, your expression flattening. "But we have a lot of work to do."

He drops his head onto the table so loudly Madam Scribner yells "SSSHHH!" from the floor below.

When he's completed all your scrolls and falsely promises to make a list of things for your Potions O.W.L.s, you collect your belongings, slotting each book and scroll into its rightful place in your bag, give a quick word to his aunt in thanks and leave without goodbye. The whole exchange was about twenty minutes but to Garreth felt like twenty years. He tromps up to Professor Weasley in utter disbelief – and despairs in the way her grin unfurls.

"I told you it would be a fair exchange."

"She's made me homework, Auntie!"

"SSSHHH!" Scribner yells.

"Sorry!" he squeaks over the bannister. "Homework, Auntie. And— lesson plans. She told me I was practically unsalvageable!"

"I definitely heard not unsalvageable, Garreth."

"You can't be serious with this girl."

But Professor Weasley simply pets his shoulder.

"Your future is at stake here, Garreth. It's about time you start taking it seriously. She will help you. You will help each other."

But he really doubts it.

He waits for you outside of the Ravenclaw common room entrance for your first session later that week.

Dread roils through him as he leans against the bannister. Two hours of this, thrice a week, when he could be doing literally anything else. Quidditch has started again – which his aunt has barred him from playing due to his grades – but he could at least watch the Gryffindors practice, watch Leander and Eric Northcott toss Quaffles between them.

He's never had a mind for anything that doesn't interest him. History, divining the stars – both approaches. Even turning butterflies into bells doesn't capture his attention the same way potions do. There's just something about the way you can play loose and fast with the rules, with the ingredients, with the measurements, with the method, that delights his curiosity.

He wiggles his arm so it doesn't go to sleep. He's been to the Ravenclaw common room a few times, usually with Amit – for when they need to get back at Everett for catching them with a dungbomb. Unfortunately it means he's well acquainted with the eagle knocker.

"Honestly, Mr Weasley," it enunciates with that high and mighty tone, "if you sulk any harder and your expression will stick permanently to your face."

"Know from experience, do you?"

It doesn't bother to grace that with a response.

"What quandary plagues you so?"

"I'm doing a study buddy programme."

The knocker toots – literally, like a trumpet. "Hundreds of years I have guarded this tower, and never have I heard something so funny!"

"You could be more sympathetic."

"For the boy who thought it would be funny to tickle my nose with a feather when I was asleep? I think not!"

"I didn't think you had a nose!"

The door swings open then, and you step out. Prim, proper, picturesque. You startle at the sight of him.

"I thought we were to meet in the library."

"I was passing by, thought I'd come up and walk with you."

Suspicion flutters through your eyes. "Why?"

"What do you mean, why?"

"Why would you want to walk with me?"

He blinks. Is he being stupid, or has he missed something? "Er, because it's a nice thing to do, and if I have to waste six hours of my life on this mutual tutorship every week then I should at least get to know you better."

"I see."

Something not quite as strong as displeasure edges your voice, but you fall into step with him – not missing the way he makes a rude face at the knocker on the way downstairs.

"Look, I'll be honest," he begins, "I don't like this arrangement any more than you do, but I'm naturally pre-disposed to not taking anything too seriously, so even if we have to endure revision together, we can at least try to have a good time with it. Sound fair?"

You don't answer immediately. "What's the catch?"

"What? No catch. I just don't want to be totally glum each time I see you."

Something flashes across your expression, but it's too fleeting to identify it. "All right, that's... understandable."

"Great."

Conversation is stilted, however, even when you get to the library. You don't immediately warm to him, which is odd, because he's very used to people immediately falling for his magnanimous charms. You pull out your notebook – a timetable neatly journaled into the opening page – as he dumps out his parchment and quills.

"Since our sessions cover six hours per week," you say, "I thought we could work on your subjects for four of them, and then two hours on Potions for me."

"Right, fine." Sounds positively wretched. "My aunt's got Sharp's permission to use the potions laboratory this Friday, so I guess we can do it then."

"The potions laboratory?"

"Yeah. What? Did you think we could do Potions work without... potions?"

"Shouldn't we focus on the written portion?"

He frowns. "The written portion of the Potions O.W.L. is tiny. Like, miniscule. And boring."

You draw yourself up. "I don't find it boring. The essays are the best part."

Oh dear Merlin. "Well, sorry to disappoint you, but the majority of your Potions O.W.L. depends on actual potion-making." He grins. "Why? Scared, are you?"

"Why would I be scared?"

"You seem keen not to do it. Don't tell me you have some tragic backstory involving an exploding cauldron."

"No," you grind out. "I just... don't have a natural affinity for it like I do all my other subjects."

"That must've been really hard for you to accept."

He's teasing, but your face sours. Wow, you really are a tough crowd.

"Let's start. History of Magic."

This is one of those subjects he needs to know for his career choice – potioneers are expected to understand the history behind advancements in potion-making, after all – but Professor Binns makes it near-impossible to derive any sort of interest in the subject. The first topic of the year, the disbandment of the Wizards' Council in 1707, is already so dull Garreth can feel himself melting into the floor the moment the ghost opens his mouth.

"Now, I've already started the essay about the tumult of the Ministry of Magic's early years." You pull out a roll of parchment. "If we compare the key argument points—"

"Wait," he says, holding up his hand, "what do you mean, you've started the essay?"

"The essay that Binns set."

"You're doing N.E.W.T. level classes?"

"I'm doing N.E.W.T. level homework," you correct. "The professors assign it to me and I work on it with my regular homework."

"How do you have time to eat? Or sleep?"

You shrug. It's all so easy to you. You probably dream of your textbooks. It's so boggling.

"As I was saying," you continue, "we ought to start by comparing the points we've both made for the essay."

He just can't fathom it. Is there any point getting to know you when your spare time is dedicated to nothing but grades and studying? How can anyone be so academically good at (almost) everything, take on extra work, agree to tutor a frankly hopeless student... and still find time to enjoy other things?

"Right, yes, comparing essay points," he mumbles. "Sounds good."

Then again, he thinks, when neither of you move, and your eyes begin to narrow, you don't seem like the type of person to enjoy anything.

"You haven't started the essay yet, have you?"

"... Does a sphinx speak in riddles?"

You groan.

The first Potions session that Friday is a fun one – because now he gets to test you, watch you squirm and sweat. After the painful four hours together, scribbling theory for Divination and star charts for Astronomy, it's finally time to show what he can do. You're always so put together, so he wants to see how bad you are, see what it is that justifies asking for his help in the first place.

Professor Sharp is waiting in the potions laboratory when you both arrive, seated at his desk marking homework.

Garreth grins. "All right, Professor?"

His expression curdles exponentially. "I trust I don't have to keep one eye on you for the entire two hours, Mr Weasley?"

"'Course not, sir. I'm only here to supervise my charge. In fact, you could say I'm the professor here."

"That doesn't fill me with much more confidence," Sharp mutters, then flicks his quill. "I've prepared the one on the left. Work quietly, please."

You seem nonplussed when Garreth steers you to the potions station. "Do you have a... reputation?"

"Don't know what you mean."

"You must do, by the professor's tone. You're a— miscreant."

"I'm a creative," he corrects. "Professor Sharp just doesn't appreciate my artistry."

"I can hear you, Mr Weasley."

"See? No appreciation whatsoever."

He gave you a list of ingredients to bring, and as he lights the fire beneath the cauldron, you sort them on the table – a bezoar in a mortar, mistletoe berries tied together with twine, Mooncalf tears in a phial. He notices you spend an inordinate amount of time placing them in neat, agreeable piles, rather than, you know, starting the actual potion-making, and he tucks this information away.

"Right, so, today I thought you could brew the antidote to common poisons."

"Antidote," you say stiffly. "Common poisons."

"That's what I said."

"Isn't that a third year subject?"

"It is." He smiles devilishly. "But we're going to do it with a twist."

Your brow furrows. "You're supposed to teach me relevant things, Garreth."

"You'll be lucky I'm not adding my own spin on it. No, just a simple improvement to up the ante. We're going make sure our potion can also act as an antidote to spider venom."

"Spider venom?" Your hand reaches for the textbook, but Garreth palms it away. "But— I need the recipe."

"You won't get the full recipe in your O.W.L. exams. You only get a list of ingredients and vague instructions. But it's better to learn by doing, and you will be expected to understand how the property of each ingredient affects the potion." He gestures. "Shall we begin?"

Your lips are flat as you fill the cauldron with standard potioning water – two pints of it, until it bubbles nicely over the flames. You know the first step by heart, which is to crush the bezoar into a fine powder and add four measures. Good start. With each of his thorough explanations, you fidget, uncomfortable.

"Why not just feed someone a bezoar? It works, doesn't it?"

"Why do we extract essence of dittany instead of just nibbling on the stem? Because combined with other ingredients the potion is more powerful. A bezoar wouldn't work against more virulent spider venom on its own, but it will in the potion we're brewing, because its healing properties are enhanced. Also, have you tried shoving that whole thing in your gob? Tastes rank."

"Wait," you say suddenly. "I need to write this down."

"The tastes rank part, or shoving in your gob part?"

You ignore him, grabbing your quill and scribbling furiously.

"Watch your cauldron. It's bubbling over."

You squeak, dropping the quill and stirring. A sheen of sweat coats your forehead, which is pretty hilarious. You've only just started.

"What's the next step?" he asks.

Your eyes skim the ingredients, frantic. "Erm... Mooncalf tears?"

"Try again." When you grimace, he says, "Begins with Stuh. Ends with andard ingredient."

You glare at him. "This doesn't make sense. Why add that now?"

"It's a stabilising agent. It emulsifies the ingredients together."

"Like eggs in a cake," you murmur, which surprises him. "But we've only added the bezoar to the water. What's there to stabilise?"

"Bezoars don't dissolve in water, and this will help the ingredients we add next."

He can see your frustration. Suddenly it makes sense why you hate Potions so much. You don't understand the science behind it – ironic, for someone who seems so methodical, and so proficient at other more technical subjects like Transfiguration. You pour the herbs into the brew, watching cautiously as the liquid thickens and changes colour from grimy brown to forest green, and notes of saltiness waft into the air.

"Good." The potion isn't looking too bad – maybe a little too green, but not unworkable. "Now, what next?"

"... Mooncalf tears?"

"Nope. You need to desaturate the brew."

"So turn up the heat?" He gives a firm nod. "For how long?"

"Well, you've added standard ingredient, which acts as a thickening agent already, and bezoar powder burns easily, even in water. Do you think much heat should be applied?"

"... Maybe?"

"Bet your examiner would love that answer."

You scowl. "Just tell me."

"Bring it to simmer," he instructs. "But only for a few minutes. For the aforementioned reasons."

After you write this down, you nudge another piece of wood into the fire pit below, then adjust the knob for heat. After a few moments, the bubbles pop ferociously on the surface. He watches you watching it, transfixed, eyebrows sloping in intense concentration. It's clear you desperately want this to work – but something holds you back, whether it's just disinterest in the subject or not. You lower the heat after three minutes, leaning back.

"Now do we add the Mooncalf tears?"

He laughs. "Merlin's beard, you're desperate to get those tears in. No, now you wave your wand and let it stew. Do you know for how long?"

"I remember this," you say. "It was about thirty minutes."

"Are you sure?"

"Well now I'm not."

His grin only grows. "What type of cauldron are you using?"

"Pewter."

"How will that affect the time?"

"Isn't pewter less conducive of magical properties than the others, and therefore makes brewing time slower?"

"I don't know. Is it?"

"Garreth."

"Yes, you're right," he says. "You're a right laugh, you know."

"You're not," you remark tersely. "So it stews for more time then?"

"Probably about forty-five minutes, though I reckon with how you bunged all the standard ingredient in, it'll probably need a few minutes more. We'll eyeball it."

You squeak. "We can't— eyeball it!"

"'Course we can. When it's reduced enough, we'll take it off the heat."

Still, it's about a fifty-minute wait, and unfortunately you decide to get him back for all the fun he's having by asking how his History of Magic essay is going (... it's not). Even Professor Sharp laughs when he stumps at the first bullet point.

When the fifty minutes slog by (and they do slog – probably because Garreth dies a little with each legislative policy he has to know by name), you check the potion again. The water has boiled down to a gooey liquid, half the size it was before, and the colour has deepened.

"Now you have ground unicorn horn to add. This is where it gets interesting." His voice dances with glee, but you look like you'd rather get punched in the face. "The recipe for the regular antidote calls for a pinch of unicorn horn, then two clockwise stirs. But to work against a more potent poison like spider venom, you need at least two pinches, and double the number of stirs, to let everything combine."

You hunch over your unicorn horn powder. "Are you sure this isn't one of your creative exploits?"

"Hand on heart, this is all by-the-book," he says, then calls out, "In fact, I should really get some house points for it!"

"Don't hold your breath," Sharp calls back.

Garreth winks at you. "Worth a try, right?"

Your brow drops in exasperation.

Still, you follow his next instructions carefully. Two pinches of unicorn horn powder, then four stirs of the cauldron, and it hisses and pops as the powder melts into the solution. Finally you add two mistletoe berries, careful to keep the toxic leaves away, and wave your wand to finish. It's as expected – not bad for someone who claims to struggle at the subject, though he had to coach you through most of it.

"So... how do we know if the potion works?"

"Funny you should ask." Garreth reaches for his bag. "I have a spider I keep in a jar—"

You scrabble away at once. "What?" you shriek – it's the first explosive emotion he's seen from you. "No, no, no—"

"Merlin, that was a joke! 'Course I don't have a spider in my bag!"

Your shoulders drop. Your expression storms.

"Not. Funny."

But he giggles. "Come on. That was kind of funny."

"You really are a miscreant."

"Not a fan of spiders, are you?"

"They're detestable." You shudder, crossing your arms. "I don't know how anyone can stand the creatures."

"I think they're kind of cute. You know, in an ugly sort of way."

You step back to the station, gesturing with your chin to the potion again. "So? How do you know if we succeeded?"

"Colour, consistency, smell. Is it teal? Yes. Is it thick, and the bottom of the cauldron is only visible when you scrape it with a spoon? Yes. Does it smell like Graphorn dung?" He sniffs. Winces. "Oh yeah."

"How do you know what Graphorn dung smells like?"

"You don't want to know." (It involved Everett, naturally.) "So, with all those factors, we can safely say the potion was a resounding success. Huzzah!"

Yet you don't seem particularly pleased. He's not sure why, given that his aunt implied you were so poor at the subject even a mediocre brew was unthinkable. But maybe your bar to success is much higher than his. He helped you a lot, after all – maybe you'll only consider these tutoring sessions a win if you manage to brew an entire potion by yourself, without his ogling over your shoulder. Without someone literally telling you what to do.

And if that's what you want, okay. He's happy to help. The quicker you pick up these potions lessons, the quicker he is freed of your prickly company.

"Wait," you say suddenly, "what were the Mooncalf tears for?"

"Oh, those?" He chuckles. "They're not for anything. They're just to bamboozle you."

Your glare is potent enough to set him on fire.

"I am trying to learn here, and you fooling around is not helping."

"Who says this isn't helping? You'll never forget Mooncalf tears aren't in the antidote now, will you?"

"But— that's—!" You let out a groan. "You're being insufferable."

He just laughs harder. "You're so prim, it's hilarious."

"If wanting to learn things the proper way makes me prim, so be it."

"The proper way? Oh ho ho, no. There's no proper way."

"Written study is the proper way."

He leans on the potions station, grinning villainously. "Then I'll prove to you that it's not all about textbooks and words on a page. You're going to learn so hard you won't know what hit you. You'll see."

Your raise your chin, derision clear.

"Very well then, Garreth."

"All righty then, Prim."

He sees how it digs. "What? Don't— don't call me that!"

"Only calling you what you are, Prim."

When the session ends, he agrees to start that essay – or at least think about starting it – and you agree to review your notes for the antidote, but no matter how many times you remind him of your real name, he teases you with the moniker until you part ways. Unfortunately for you, insufferable doesn't quite have the same ring to it, and you wouldn't dare deign to his level of immaturity.

So at the end of the first week, you still call him Garreth.

And he calls you Prim.

[Next chapter coming soon] <3 [Divider credit, gorgeous art by Lyworth]

#hogwarts legacy #garreth weasley #garreth weasley x mc #garreth weasley x reader #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #prim #stay with me #acvasverse #my writing #my stuff

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