#homework (derogatory)
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emerdoodls · 7 months ago
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can someone PLEASE tell me what executive dysfunction feels like so i can figure out if that's happening to me or if i'm just being lazy and gaslighting myself into thinking im maybe not being lazy
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hawkeyefierce · 11 months ago
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forcing myself to finish the homework that's due tonight before i gif the 0.5 seconds of max sightings from the blueprint video... this is a level of self control i was not aware i possessed
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butchlifeguard · 11 months ago
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diversity loss. someone that i find so so so fucking annoying is also taking asl 3 next year
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carryingthebanner · 2 years ago
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One thing about me: I’m going to find a way to incorporate theatre into everything I do
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perenlop · 2 years ago
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man i do not feel like doing my final project for my animal literature class and the reason why makes me feel like a bad person
#so i took this class thinking it was going to be a mix of like animal symbolism and animal rights#as well as how people end up doing animal xenofiction which do or dont play on animal tropes and where they come from#which is interesting to me#but there was only that last thing in like the first thing we read and in some lecture related homework#and pretty much everything else is about whether or not this portrayal of an animal is cruelty for not putting it on the same level#as a person#and ngl a lot of the stuff just sounds like a reach to me like one was like#''omg this man doesnt REALLY care. he FAILS at his analysis of his cat that saw him naked bc he thinks abt what the cat thinks abt clothes#but he doesnt consider how it would LOGICALLY feel he only cares abt HIMSELF''#and professor also kinda lowkey implied the college students were being derogatory in what we named the campus cat#(literally like a goofy food name bc apparently we dont respect it?)#anyways usually our finals are like ''pick anything we've discussed and narrow down into a thesis''#but she wants us to ONLY have our papers be about animal cruelty and if like idk the lion king is ethical or not#and i was like ''eh i can do pokemon maybe bc that has interesting things to say about animal and human relations sometimes''#but her response was like ''ok but how SHOULD we treat animals in that context tho. are they saying animals have to fight? thats weirdddd''#''are they like saying the creator wants animals to beat each other up are they saying animals inherently hate and fight each other and need#humans to survive? thats kinda weird????'' and im just like. ok the series literally does go into that and its a video game but ok#echoed voice#and i wanna do my final abt symbolism and such in shows that i like but she keeps nitpicking them#and its like she doesnt even want a NEGATIVE portrayal for us to explain why its bad at conveying its message#bc i was like ''hey livestock is used as a dehumanizing thing here and also says something abt how cruel meat factories can be how abt that'#and she was like ''um but if its used to be dehumanizing then theyre implying its bad to compare humans to animals and thats not fair to#to animals''#like i SORTA see where shes coming from but it feels more exhausting than anything
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wabblebees · 2 years ago
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assigning me homework is cruel and unusual, actually
#my brain is fucked. literally why are u making me do this shit. its fucking ridiculous#complain complain whine complain#whine whine bitch moan complain whine#scream. tear hair out. consider running away to the mountains#realise im already in the mountains and i still have to do this shit#grrrRRAAAGH.#the assignment is to read 30 pages of our textbook and take notes in an Atrocious & Exceedingly Specific Format that my brain DOES NOT LIKE#it does not FUCKING COMPUTE. and its making me so frustrated that i cant even READ anymore#after exactly One Hour of reading my entire brain went NOPE WE'RE DONE HERE and now its been TWO hours#the whole point is so we have a ~reference book~ to look back at in the future when it may be relevant! but what that Actually means is#YOUR HOMEWORK IS TO REWRITE THE TEXTBOOKAND MAKE YOUR OWN ✨️EMOTIONAL CONNECTIONS✨️ TO THE TOPICS COVERED#sir. if i told u the ✨️emotional connections✨️ i am making to this textbook#my mother would tackle me to wash my mouth out with soap. ''respectfully.''#the professor (derogatory)((<-the guy teaching isnt even technically a professor)) didnt even make up this assignment or the curriculum#he just got the job bc all of the other ACTUAL department faculty refused. bc this sucks ass.#he talks FOREVER abt some tangent & THEN is like 'hm. so we dont have time for the things i planned to do in class today. what do we do.'#WHY SHOULD WE KNOW. THATS YOUR JOB#and i like him (sort of.)((i at least want to be decent to him yanno?)) but this is fucking insane. i hate it here#id be so on board to read this textbook and learn this shit if i didnt have to take those GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING NASTY-ASS NOTES. FUCK.#this shit is legitimately so interesting to me!! but knowing i have to do ALL THAT??#makes my brain book it out the back of my skull like a fucking looney-toons skit. makes it go kablooey. leaves no trace but a dust cloud#thinking abt this assignment has been making my attention span so skittery that i havent been able to work on my OTHER homework Either#ugh. whatever#ill get over it & finish eventually. i just. the textbook is ALREADY oversimplifying so much#so im sitting here highlighting nearly fucking EVERYTHING. and then cant figure out what to actually take down as nOtEs#30 pages. of which im supposed to distill ''the 4-5 most important pieces of information from each page''#meaning my shit in ~column a~ should have. AT L E A S T. 120 FUCKING BULLET POINTS???#and THEN. im supposed to put an equivalent amount of ✨️personal connections✨️ in ~column FUCKING b~#fuck me ig. fuck.#bee speaks
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mooorgan-ish · 6 months ago
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am i constantly on the verge of blocking the gr*an tag? yes. yes im a hater but some of you are annoying
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thewitchinthecherrytree · 1 year ago
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two-factor authentication (derogatory)
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urno1luv · 10 months ago
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tw: stepcest, smut obv, pussy eating + slapping + fingering, implicit manipulation
sooo... stepmom!giselle.... yeah-
she'd be so loving, helping you when you're stressed. her hands caressing your shoulders, calming you down when you're angry or annoyed at something.
you always go to her for support, droning on about how your teachers set you too much homework, and she'd pull you in, deliberately pushing your head between her clothed tits.
"aww, d'ya think there's anything i can do to make you feel better?" giselle would ask, pouting when you huff in frustration. she sits you down beside her, making you rest your head on her chest.
"no, i jus wanna sleep." she nods, biting her bottom lip when she feels the vibrations of your voice on her nipples, which were slowly hardening.
her hands find themselves in between your thighs, softly kneading your soft and plush legs. her fingers brush against your clothed cunt, and you sleepily gasp, pushing her hands away weakly.
"not now mommy, i'm tired," you whisper, clenching your thighs together. she giggles, and kisses the top of your head.
"sweetie, this is gonna make you feel so relaxed. don't you trust mommy?" she replies, in a sultry tone. you nod quickly, pleasing her in an instant.
"of course you do, you're all mine, anyway." your clit throbs when you see her possessive attitude. you let her hands cup your covered mound, breathing heavily in anticipation.
"be a good girl for mommy, won't you? take that skirt off. we wouldn't wanna ruin it now, right angel?" your mind goes fuzzy, her commanding voice sending shivers down your spine.
you do as she asks, and sit on her lap. almost immediately, giselle sticks her fingers in your mouth, and you obediently wet them, sucking lewdly on them.
"what did i do in my past life, to deserve you... my own slut." she pulls her fingers out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting the two of you.
her loving yet derogatory words makes your pussy clench on air, leaking fluids, which giselle's sharp eyes see, ofc.
smirking, she makes your body face the other direction, your back resting on her soft chest. she spreads your legs out, then brings her hand down, slapping your pussy.
"mmh... mommy?" you question her, quivering when you feel that same hand start rubbing your cunt. "shhh... i know what i'm doing..." she effectively keeps you quiet, bringing her fingers to her mouth, tasting your sweet juices coating her hand.
she moans when your liquids touch her tongue, getting wet. "honey... you taste sweeter than honey..." giselle murmurs, her fingers returning to your dripping entrance.
she slowly pushes them into you, your pussy tightening on her, your gummy walls sucking her in. moaning lowly, you lean your head back to rest on her shoulder.
"mommy... fuck..." you force out your words, mind already going blank. she notices, and begins to thrust in and out, your walls closing down on her.
"let go sweetheart, i know you had a bad day, i won't deny you anything..." she says, her soft, motherly tone almost sending you to sleep, till you feel her fingers moving faster, and you feel your high coming.
whimpering, your hips buckle upwards, and your moans come out faster, signalling giselle. she pulls her fingers out, and pushes you off her lap.
"wha...?" you look up at her, as she gets up and sits on the floor before you.you piece two and two together, surprisingly, and spread your legs further.
your stepmom's mouth latches on to your clit, and you rut against her face, quickly regaining the path to your suddenly-interrupted orgasm from earlier.
her fingers re-enter your pussy, at a quick pace. her hot, slithering tongue licking up and down, suckling on your bundle of nerves.
you whine and lock your thighs around giselle's head, shaking silently as your whole body trembling in pleasure, your orgasm racking from head to toe. "see, my beloved? that felt good didn't it?"
your stepmom carries you to her bedroom, tucking you in. you tiredly pull her in, causing her to laugh warmly. "you still have energy?" you mumble something inaudible, and she smiles lovingly down at you.
"mommy always knows what's best for you, princess."
................... ................ ................. .................. ................
a/n: i'm not that good at writing smut, pls excuse me if it sounds weird🙏 also i didn't proofread so sorry if there are mistakes. this was inspired by the amount of step smth giselle content, and i decided to also do that + also requests are open!
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thatsatricky1 · 3 months ago
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𝐍𝐞𝐰𝐛𝐢𝐞 | Lee Jeno Smau
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Lee Jeno x F Reader.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Angst?, Cursing, Suggestive, more to be added lol.
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐬: University au, spin on fight club au, social media au; smau, written parts, angst, fluff, slow burn, humour, (one sided) enemies to lovers, hidden identities.
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7
𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐍𝐞𝐨 𝐓𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐮𝐬:
1. Only grades acceptable are B+ and above.
2. Negative and derogatory wording about Neo is strictly forbidden.
3. Uniforms must be worn exactly as shown in the uniform guide with no alterations.
4. Tardiness won’t be tolerated, there is no excuse for being late.
5. No Female and Male contact is permitted, only during contact sports or circus in circumstances with granted permission.
6. All homework, assignments, projects and school activities must be completed by the set timeline and are compulsory.
7. No outside help is allowed, this includes outside tutors and Ai programs, on campus tutors will be provided with a fee.
If these rules are not upheld, there will be strict consequences such as suspension and/or expulsion. One or more rules could lead to an immediate expulsion if decided by the faculty.
These are the strict guidelines Neo university students must follow without question or backlash through their years at Neo Technology. Failure to comply with said guidelines never ends peacefully. Many students end up leaving Neo Technology in their earlier years in their majors and courses due to Burn out or expulsions.
Those who manage to go through to graduation in their majors/degrees are always guaranteed a good future, having this university campus on one's resume/Cv is an automatic ticket into high end jobs. Previously graduated students have been seen working in higher up positions in multiple different areas. There hasn’t been a recorded failure on Neo Technologies graduated classes so far.
Many students fill out the same requirements that go to Neo Technology, Wealthy family backgrounds, academically well adjusted and above average in multiple areas shown through their previous education and lastly well connected individuals with higher up contacts. With one outlier.
The one student with a scholarship that is picked out every year. AKA the charity case to make the university look fair. However this scholarship is given to a first year, every year in all majors, whether they make it through to graduation is their own hardship. Those who drop or or get expelled will be replaced with a new student in that year they dropped out.
Due to unseen and unfortunate events a scholarship student in their graduation year passed away from ‘natural’ causes, meaning a new scholarship student would be taking their place in the graduating class of 2024 in the business major area and courses.
Many outsiders condemn Neo Technology for their strict ruling and how faintly it seemed to act more like a high school then university due to its strict regulations rather than the relaxed ruling one mostly knows from being a university student on campus. However words and thoughts do nothing to change how Neo Technology continues to move forward with its education agenda.
𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐛:
1. You don’t talk about Fight Club.
2. You do NOT talk about Fight club.
3. If someone says “Stop” or goes limp, taps out, the fight is over.
4. Only two people, to a fight.
5. No Shirts, No shoes.
6. Fights will go on as long as they have to.
7. If this is your first time at Fight Club, you have to fight.
Those were the rules, you don’t follow them you’re out and that doesn’t just mean a simple blacklisting. Fight Club was built from the ground up by people in their 40’s trying to have some excitement brought back into their mundane lives. Though of course as time progressed the younger generations started pouring in to the point the average ages seen in Fight Club were now no longer 40’s but between 20’s-40’s.
If you happen to be an unfortunate soul who wanders into Fight Club, there’s no point in saying be prepared because no newbie is. It doesn’t matter if it's your first and last day there. Rule number Seven always happens. If it’s your first time at Fight Club, you have to fight. It’s not a choice, it's a must.
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Profiles 1 | Profiles 2 | Extra
1. All men =🚩
2. Why she kinda 🫦
3. Freak 🫵
4. Homie hopping
5. Hot privileges revoked
6. I got you bbg 💳
7. Neo T student.
More chapters to come…
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𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: (Comment,message or submit a request to be added to this taglist.)
Oml first smau finally being done 👀 took me forever to decide to actually do it lol, let’s hope this will actually be good 😭 (constructive feedback is always appreciated so if you have any memo’s or notes feel free to tell me!)
Also a little sneak peak into the boys in this one here you go:
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kabretoss · 6 months ago
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the screaming has died down to a dry wheezing
laying on the ground and having a little scream about art
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oceansblvds · 1 year ago
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I SENT THE ASK ABT TEACHER CORYO IM BEGGING YOU TO WRITE TA/PROFESSOR SNOW 😝
OKOKOK IM GONNA WRITE SOME HEADCANONS BUT I MIGHT HONESTLY EXPAND THIS INTO A FULL FIC BC im a whore!
warning(s): nsfw, obsessive behavior, lowkey an abuse of power
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coriolanus, almost out of university, was selected to teach a higher level math class on the account of dr. gaul saying he needed a little bit more experience with teaching and leadership if he was to be head gamemaker. so, he was a TA, teaching under a professor but was basically given full rein with the class, as the professor seemed to focus more on research than teaching the class. the second he was in the lecture discussion, he saw you walk in. you were a junior, just a year under him in university and god were you beautiful. almost mouth wateringly so. it made him sick in the head at how pretty you were.
and gods above, you were smart, almost as smart as he was (though he wouldn't ever admit that) and it was clear that you liked him. you always smiled when he complimented your high scores on tests and quizzes, and would read the notes that he put in the margins of your essays with a glimmer in your eyes. he needed to talk to you, needed to be closer to you, and the only way that he could think of was to give you slightly lower marks on your essays and homeworks. never on a test, he would never want to drop your grade low enough for it to be concerning, but he did wait for you to stumble into his office hours. and you did. you asked him how you could do better on the material, and he told you that he'd help you.
he didn't have an office, only a classroom that he was lent during his office hours in the top floor of the math building. it was there that you would meet him, every tuesday and thursday, to go over problems. he liked the way that your lip would be bitten in between your teeth when you were looking at a particularly hard problem, or when you would look at him with your big doe eyes when you asked him for help. and whenever you asked him for help, he would lean closer, and explain it to you.
one day, he finally got the courage to make a move. you asked him for help and he placed his hand on your thigh, as if he was using it to keep himself steady as he leaned over. but instead of watching him explain on the paper, you kept your attention on his face. and then he pushed his hand further up your thigh, under your skirt, and you didn't stop him. your hand came to his and you pushed it up until it was cupping your pussy. he fingered you right then and there, hoping beyond hoping that no one else would walk into his office hours for help. the two of you made out while he fingered you, going as far as to press three fingers into you, with a squelching sound, your moans echoing through the room softly.
that became somewhat of a normal thing. you two always met during his office hours, until you decided to go to his home one day for some extra tutoring. it ended with you in his large bed with your legs spread, while he put his fingers in your mouth as he fucked you with such fervor that you were sure you were going to break.
sometimes when he was grading papers, you would slink under his desk and pull his cock out, spitting on the tip and bobbing your head up and down until he gave you the attention you wanted. he always fantasized about you doing this when he was teaching another class, with you working him with your mouth as he sat on his desk and no one else knew the wiser. he would have to try that with you one day.
lots of words like how dirty you were for sleeping with your teacher. "you're such a needy thing, aren't you?" "show me how good you've gotten" when you were riding him. "you probably fantasize about my cock in class, don't you?" it was all so derogatory. and other times he would praise you. he would tell you how smart and beautiful you were. he would let you cum when you got a problem right while he sat under the desk, eating you out. when you got a problem wrong, he would stop, and no amount of begging would get him to continue unless you continued your work.
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rip-quizilla · 6 months ago
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Impossible to Hate You ~ Part 6
Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader
Summary: Thanksgiving, idiots in love, and unwelcome encounters in the parking lot.
Word Count: 4k
A/N: Content Warning! This chapter contains sexual harassment (grabbing at clothes, derogatory name calling).
Thank you so much @hellfire--cult for the adorable Converse divider🥹
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
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Part 6
Thanksgiving Day, 1983
Eddie had a lot of things to worry about today, but right now he was most worried about whether or not the mac & cheese he’d slaved over all morning would taste like shit. 
His sweaty hands clutched the dish towel-wrapped baking dish for dear life and mentally rolled through all of the ingredients he had read on that clipping from the Southern Living magazine he’d grabbed from the grocery store. It wasn’t as if he’d never cooked before- he could make a mean grilled cheese, and if something came in a box he hadn’t found a way to fuck it up yet. This time, however, he’d been a little out of his element. 
Wayne had been excited to finally have a use for the casserole dish that had been sitting in a cabinet unused for so long that Eddie hadn’t even known it existed. Currently, he sat relaxed in the drivers’ seat of his pickup smiling smug as hell even though Eddie had assured him multiple times that he was not about to meet Eddie’s girlfriend… just a friend. 
No matter how much Eddie tried to hammer that point into Wayne’s skull, however, he still smiled that stupid knowing grin every time your name came up in conversation, as if he knew something Eddie didn’t. 
“You seem nervous.” Wayne commented, keeping his eyes trained on the road ahead as he lazily turned the truck into your neighborhood. 
Eddie glared at the tin foil topped dish in his lap. “Well, I’ve never made this recipe before, I keep picturing everyone taking a bite and immediately spitting it into their napkins.”
Wayne snorted, shaking his head softly and guiding the steering wheel with one hand. “Son, it’s pasta and cheese. Pretty hard to mess that up too bad.” 
“Yeah, well…” Eddie harrumphed. “I’m sure I found a way somehow.”
Wayne smiled softly at his nephew’s smitten nerves, parking the pickup with a jerky stop at the curb of your house. “505, right? This is the one?”
“Yeah.” 
Watching smugly as Eddie stared out the window at your house, Wayne waited about four seconds before he asked, “Are you gonna get out of the car today, or…?”
Cue the sound of the car door opening and Eddie grumbling a sassy muttered retort of I’m going old man, calm down, or something along those lines. Wayne pretended not to catch it. 
You opened the door before Wayne and Eddie could even get to the door, and when Eddie’s eyes landed on you? His uncle could just tell. The smile that exploded on his nephew’s face was all it took.
“Oh here, let me take that-”
“No, no, it’s fine Ace, I got it.” Eddie reassured you, swooping the casserole dish away from your eager hands. He nodded in Wayne’s direction, directing you to do the same as he introduced the only family member of his that you’d heard of at all in your time as friends. “This is my Uncle Wayne.” 
Your eyes shone, welcoming and warm, and Wayne understood in an instant how you’d had such an effect on Eddie in less than a year. Since he’d started spending time with you, Eddie Munson had become the kind of young man who did his homework without being asked. He’d even gotten a job at the mall of all places and gave a portion of his earnings to his uncle to help with living expenses. 
None of the things Wayne had always loved about Eddie had gone away- the changes he’d seen in his nephew were all additions to a personality that he’d always known would take him far in life if he could just surround himself with those who brought out the best in him. People who saw that spark of Munson Magic and knew how to fan it.
Wayne could now confirm that you were one of those people.
He took your hand in his weathered and wrinkled one, pouring his approval of you into a firm and fatherly handshake. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, young lady.” He gestured to Eddie with a conspiratorial nod. “Nice to put a face to the name, all he does is talk about you.”
“Brrrrr, it’s cold out here!” Eddie interrupted his uncle with a hand on your back to steer you away from Wayne and into the house. “Are you cold? You look cold, we don’t need to stand out here yapping when you’re cold.” 
You smiled, following Eddie’s lead but tossing a look over your shoulder at Wayne like it was a shared secret. 
Eddie had already met your parents, so greetings were warm and familiar once the three of you had reached the foyer. Wayne was introduced to both your mom and dad before your mom noticed Eddie had brought an offering for the table.
“Edward Munson, if I’m about to find out you’re not only a shoe designer but also a cook, I might just have to extend a standing invitation for all future holidays!”
“Shoe designer?” Wayne raised an eyebrow. 
You chuckled, pointing your foot out for him to see your white (now turned a bit duller from wearing them every day) Chuck Taylors, completely covered in idle drawings from Eddie’s inability to sit still. 
Wayne gawked at the artwork on your shoes; he’d always known that Eddie was talented, but this was the first time in a long time that Wayne had really stopped and looked at his nephew’s art. The detail, the use of space and composition- it was clear that Eddie knew not only how to draw, but he had an eye for how to make his art look like it belonged on its canvas. Even otherworldly monsters- sea creatures, dragons, demonic ghouls and ghostly images- looked at home on your well-loved high tops. 
“You drew all this, Ed?”
Eddie smiled shyly, nudging your shoulder with his own. “Ah, they’re just doodles. This one over here figured out I pay better attention in class when I’m doing something with my hands. Helps me listen better.” Finally, his trademark grin reappeared, shyness replaced with snark. “Now I’m the one helping her in class.”
“All the times I’ve had to kick you so you don’t fall asleep in O’Donnell’s beg to differ.” You replied, rolling your eyes at him. This brought a good-natured ripple of laughter from everyone in the room. You all felt it- the ease with which familiarity settled in the air amongst you. Eddie felt it most of all, since he wasn’t quite accustomed to the particular familial feel of it. 
He might have been, once. But it’s been a while. 
A second later and your mom had whisked Eddie into the kitchen to set his dish down on a trivet and sent him into the living room with a steaming cup of wassail in one hand and a plate of appetizers in the other.
“There was enough food in there to feed an army,” Eddie said, bemused as he sat down next to you on the couch. “Does she know there are only five of us?” 
You toed off your shoes and let them fall to the ground before crossing your legs up on the green ottoman, fuzzied soft with wear from years of love. You leaned closer to Eddie, eyes fixed on his plate of goodies as you began to pick pieces of fruit and cheese for yourself. 
“Mom grew up with a big family,” you said, popping a juicy red grape into your mouth. “All the family recipes make enough for six at least. She could probably cut the recipes in half… but I think cooking all this food reminds her of home.” you smiled tenderly and shrugged. “We usually freeze the leftovers, but since you and your uncle are here I doubt we’ll even have to open a freezer bag. We’ll just send leftovers home with you!”
Eddie liked the sound of that. 
An hour or so passed before you all sat down to share your meal, and Eddie was amazed how quickly his nerves had dissipated in that time. The two of you sat cozied up on the couch, munching on fruit, cheese and deviled eggs. Your dad had offered Wayne a beer, and the two of them sat watching football in front of the TV until your mom gave the all-call for dinner. 
Everyone loaded up their plates, remarked on how good the food looked, thanked your mom for all of the hard work that went into today’s meal. This was quickly followed by a pointed thank you from your mother to Eddie for the “best mac ‘n cheese I’ve ever had” according to her. He was pretty sure she was just being nice, but he didn’t care. Her smile was still contagious- one of those ‘I love you no matter what’ mom smiles.
He’d forgotten about those.
He’d also forgotten what it was like to sit at a dining room table with more than three people. For a second, he’d been worried that you were all about to hold hands and pray, which wouldn’t have been ideal since all Eddie could remember about the dinner prayer was “bless us, oh Lord, for these thy gifts,” and he didn’t want to embarrass himself. 
But there wasn’t a prayer. This wasn’t a test he’d forgotten to study for, just a meal where Mom and Dad and Uncle were all happy he was here, happy each other were here. That was new. And when your dad asked Eddie how school was going, for once he had nothing but good things to report. He’d gotten a 95 on his last English test. For the first time since sophomore year, he wasn’t failing a single class. And when your dad said “Glad to hear you’re doing well, son.” Eddie felt you squeeze his thigh lightly, just above his knee. He saw Wayne smiling proudly out of the corner of his eye.
Eddie could get used to this. 
Conversation flowed easily in your family; no one felt the need to talk about the weather or ask arbitrary questions, and thankfully nobody decided that “we should go around the table and all say something we’re thankful for!”. There wasn’t a need for it. None of you needed to say it out loud to know you were all thankful for each other. For this. 
By the time dessert came around, Eddie started to think he might be dreaming. Apparently, you were the one always in charge of dessert in your household. And while he’d grown very acquainted with your chocolate chip cookies, he hadn’t been adequately prepared for your pecan pie. Or your chocolate & peanut butter sheet cake. Or the chocolate pudding/cool whip/cookie crumb whatever-it-was that you’d spooned onto his dessert plate. 
Could a person become delirious after consuming too much sugar? Eddie wasn’t sure if it was sugar that was causing him to start wondering what you’d look like making all these desserts in a kitchen that you both paid rent for, or if that was just him. It was probably the sugar.
As soon as Eddie was shoveling his last bite into his mouth, he was looking over to see if you had any left for him to mooch off of you. Your plate was empty- scraped clean, even- and then you were grabbing his empty plate and standing to take them into the kitchen. Eddie was about to pout when you looked at him knowingly and asked, “You want seconds? I’m getting seconds.”
It wasn’t the sugar. Eddie wanted to know what your signatures looked like together on a lease. And Eddie couldn’t believe it had taken him so long to finally admit to himself that he’d been nursing a crush on you since… when had it started? Eddie wasn’t sure. Somewhere between seventh grade history class and this very moment, he figured. 
He looked up at you from his seat, mouth still stuffed with pie crust and cool whip, and smiled when he noticed how pretty you looked in that sweater you were wearing. It was red- you wore red a lot, he realized. Had you always worn red this often?
You giggled, poking his cheek. “You look like a chipmunk when you smile like that.” 
His eyes followed you as you disappeared into the kitchen, and when Eddie caught a glimpse of the way Wayne was grinning at him? Well, his blush was a deeper shade of scarlet than your sweater.
The smile stayed, though. Even a punch to the jaw couldn’t knock that off Eddie’s face.
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“I wanna take you out.” 
It had taken Eddie what felt like ages to finally ask you. You were both at school, and he had been thinking about it and thinking about it and ramping himself for weeks to just grow a pair and ask you. The question had sounded smoother in his head, but now he thought he sounded vaguely frightening- sharper and more desperate than he’d hoped.
You blanched, eyes wide and mouth open to a little “O” shape that made Eddie’s heart flutter. 
You were so cute. How had he ever ignored it?
You grinned a little, “Take me out like… assassination, take me out, or…?” 
“No,” Eddie shook his head, laughing nervously, “I mean like, out. To a place. Or multiple places, if you want.” He was jumpy, his hands switching from his pockets to the strap of his backpack, to his hair, to the fraying edges of the friendship bracelet you’d tied around his wrist in July. 
“So when you say take me out, you mean like… on a date?”
There it was. You’d said it, that word. Date. It was out in the open now. 
You’d put the ball in Eddie’s court, and he should be happy about it. This was how it was supposed to be, right? He needed to be a man, take control, take the lead. But unfortunately, it had taken the majority of his bravery just to initiate this conversation.
“Do you want it to be a date?”
Just like that, he passed the ball to you. Eddie cursed himself, waiting anxiously for your response, completely at your mercy.
You looked down at your shoes covered in his doodles, at the red plaid of your flannel that you wore because you’d bought it in hopes that if he started to associate you with his favorite color, he might like you more. Like you the way you liked him.
You couldn’t say the words either… couldn’t speak them into existence without fear of sounding too desperate, too eager. So instead, you nodded yes to your doodle covered shoes and smiled at the dragon he’d drawn on the left toe.
Eddie beamed- inwardly, of course. Couldn’t let you see exactly how happy he was that you felt the same as him- he needed to be calm, to be cool. Girls liked calm and cool.
 “Then it’s a date, Sweet Tart.” He ached to sling a triumphant arm over your shoulder, but shoved his sweating hands into his pockets instead. 
You snuck a glance at Eddie, your smile refusing to leave no matter how cool you were trying to appear. Be cool, don’t act too desperate, you chided yourself. 
“It’s a date.” you repeated, beaming up at him. “When were you thinking?”
“Well,” Eddie shrugged as you both came to a stop by your locker. “Finals are next week and then we’re off for Christmas break, so I should be able to pencil you in for next Saturday night.” He leaned against the adjacent lockers, a smug smile shining down on you. 
“Pencil me in, huh?” you giggled, replacing the notebooks and folders from your last class with your supplies for the next. “I’m flattered you could fit me into your busy schedule.”
“If there’s one thing my schedule always has room for, it’s you, Ace.” 
Swooning. That was the only word for what those words made you do. You weren’t sure if Eddie was aware of the effect he had on you, but you were pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to help it if he was. 
You were actually grateful for your final exams the following week- they gave you something to focus on other than your date with Eddie. Which meant that the moment you’d finished your last exam on Friday, that date was the only thing on your mind.
Your date with Eddie. The words alone were enough to make you smile to yourself. You’d been harboring this crush on him for the better part of this year, and now he asks you on a date? Was it possible that he had felt the same way all this time? 
“You sure you’re cool if I don’t stay for the whole session tonight?” you’d asked Eddie as he’d prepared for Hellfire that afternoon, triple-checking that he wasn’t upset. It had become a routine for the two of you- your weekly presence as the one and only audience member for Hellfire’s in-game escapades. 
“Cool as a cucumber, Ace.” Eddie had replied, “You took three exams today, for crying out loud. Go take a nap.” 
When you finally conceded, he’d walked you from the gameplay table to the door, even going so far as to hold it open for you. Then, to your surprise, he’d taken your hand in his and brought it to his lips. 
“Go rest up.” He’d muttered, low enough so only you could hear. Then he’d brushed his lips against the back of your fingers, and you’d just about melted on the spot. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 8, Sweet Tart.”
Your hand still tingled as you thought about the feel of his lips on your skin. Now, you wanted that feeling everywhere. 
Your body was on autopilot as you made your way through the school parking lot; slushed, muddy snow sat piled up in corners and untouched patches at the edges of the lot from the on-again off-again winter precipitation over the December weeks. Your booted feet marched on toward your car, your mind entirely occupied by thoughts of tomorrow. 
You were so distracted by that thought that you didn’t notice who was waiting for you, leaned up against the trunk of your car.
“Hey there, firecracker.” 
You stopped short when your eyes snapped up to see Alan, along with a couple guys from the basketball team. Their faces were pure predatory malice as Alan eyed you up and down. 
You paused a moment, your heart rate picking up a notch when you realized just how empty the parking lot was, given the hour that had passed since the final bell. 
“I have to get home.” you muttered, keeping your eyes on the driver side door and making your best attempt to brush past the jock leaned up directly beside it, but to no avail. 
“Not so fast, you little freak.” Alan stepped into your path, a cruel smile creasing his freckled face. “We just wanted to chat!”
“You,” your voice betrayed every ounce of disbelief that you felt looking up at the meathead blocking your path to your own vehicle. “-want to chat. With me?”
“I know, I know, you’re flattered-”
“I’m not.” 
“Well you should be.” Alan peered down at you with frigid eyes. “Lord knows no guy will ever want to be seen with you now that the Freak’s got his claws in you.” 
You felt a surge of indignant fire seep into your gaze. “Piss off, asshole.” You attempted to shove past him, but Alan took a step toward you, throwing off your balance. You had to grab the bumper of the car beside you to keep from falling over, clutching at the books in your arms to avoid dropping them onto the icy pavement below. 
“I even heard he branded you.” Alan’s hot breath sent an unwelcome shiver over your skin. “Sherrie said she saw you in the locker room with… some kind of symbol… on your upper thigh, I believe?”
A biting breeze whooshed past you, but you didn’t feel it- your body had already gone ice cold. 
“Sherrie’s lying.”
“You know, I don’t think she is.” Alan’s hands crept closer toward you, ghosting fingertips across the fabric of your skirt. “But if you want to prove it to us…”
You felt your stomach drop when one of Alan’s friends stepped behind you, boxing you in. They were like vultures- to them, you were already down for the count. Ready to be picked at and preyed upon.
Slapping Alan’s hand away, you attempted once again to squeeze past him and his goons, anxious for the safety of your driver’s seat and a locked door between you and them. Unfortunately, Alan had other plans. 
“Come on,” he crooned, “girls don’t get tattoos unless they want people to see them. Go ahead and show us.”
“Go. Away.” you gritted through your teeth. 
“The Freak’s seen it, hasn't he?” Alan pressed, his hand grasping the fabric of your skirt in his fist. “What, you’ll slut yourself out for him, but not us?”
“What the fuck are you dickheads doing?” 
You’d never been so thankful to hear Robin’s voice in your life. 
Alan sneered at the unfamiliar sophomore, subtly letting go of your skirt. “Who the hell are you?” 
Robin marched up to the boy standing behind you, powering her glare with just enough ferocity that he actually moved aside. Grabbing your shoulders, Robin pulled you a good five feet from Alan and looked you square in the eye. “Are you okay?”
You nodded, pulling your car keys from the pocket of your backpack. You were anxious for something tangible to fidget with, something to ground you in where you stood, away from Alan and his wandering hands.
Once she was sure you were alright, Robin turned the full force of her fury on the boys that stood around your car. 
“Mr. Dunne was right behind me on his way out here, so unless you want me to tell him that I just found you groping a female student, I suggest you scram.” 
You saw Alan weighing his options for a moment, but eventually he stuck his hands in the pockets of his letter jacket and- thankfully- took his leave. 
“Whatever, freaks.” he muttered, strolling away like a brat who had grown up believing himself to be invincible in a system that agreed with him.  
It wasn’t until the two of you were both sitting in your car and safe behind locked doors that you finally let out the breath you’d evidently been holding. “Fuck him.” you huffed. “Fuck. Him.”
“Fuck him.” Robin agreed with an emphatic nod of her head. “Has he ever even talked to you before? That seemed… super random, honestly, I’ve never even seen him look in your direction.” 
“I may have picked a fight with him after I heard him call Eddie and I freaks in class not too long ago.” you winced, remembering how brazen you’d been that day… you’d been so bold, so fearless, but that girl was nowhere to be seen today. Instead, you’d frozen like a cornered fox surrounded by hounds. It made you feel so small, you thought you might be sick. You hated feeling this way.
“Apparently,” you continued, “his girlfriend saw my tattoo in the locker room. He said he wanted to see it for himself.” 
Robin had been the first person- and only person- you’d shown your little bat to after Halloween. She’d been pretty impressed… after she’d stopped worrying about it getting infected, of course. 
“First- ew. Gross.” Robin grimaced. “Second- are you telling me you just change in the locker room with that thing out in the open?” 
“I’m usually super careful about keeping it hidden!” you argued, “But it is a possibility that I might have been a little rushed to get to my next class at some point… I guess I wasn’t careful enough.”
A short silence settled while you mentally kicked yourself. I should have known this would happen. How could I be so careless? 
“Well,” Robin started, suddenly chipper. You knew this tone; she was about to try and cheer you up. Good luck, Rob. 
“You’re going to drive me to your house and then we’re baking cookies and watching whatever movie you want.” 
While you were still far from what you would consider over what just happened, your interest was definitely piqued. “Whatever movie I want?” you countered. 
Robin sighed. “I know what you’re about to ask, and yes, we can watch The Dark Crystal.”
The beginnings of a smile stretched across your face. “And you won’t call any of the puppets creepy at any point?”
“Let’s not go that far.” she deadpanned. “I will watch it, I will eat cookies, and I will not suggest that we turn it off before the movie is over. This is my final offer.”
For Robin, that was a pretty good deal. Your beginnings of a grin had graduated to a full-on smile as you took her hand and gave it a grateful squeeze. “You’re a good friend.”
She returned your smile, and squeezed your hand back before letting go to buckle her seatbelt. “I’m a great friend. Now start driving, I’m hungry and we’re stopping for french fries.”
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Part 7
Taglist: @rustboxstarr, @josephquinnsfreckles, @rozxartaki, @sheneedsrocknroll92, @melodymishahiddlestan , @sadlittlesquish, @clarafornerlyknownasclaire-blog , @stylesxmunson , @fishwithtitz , @elvendria , @carrotbunnies21 , @the-unforgivenn , @munson-blurbs, @writinginthetwilight, @ghost-proofbaby , @hellfire--cult
I added a few people to the taglist who’ve shown an interest in the series or have been my sounding boards during the writing process for this story. Hope y’all don’t mind!😊❤️
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emeritusemeritus · 1 year ago
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Nice sweater. [Fred Weasley x Reader]
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Image found on Pinterest.
Title: Nice Sweater
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader (established relationship)
Timeline: Non-specified. Set after Christmas break.
Summary: Draco tries to wind you up about your handmade sweater from Molly and gets firmly put in his place.
Warnings: Draco being antagonistic. Derogatory comments about wealth. Mentions of shagging. Brief mentions of physical abuse and scars.
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It was the first week back after Christmas break and you were thankful that Saturday had eventually rolled around as the early morning starts, hard classes and already mounting homework had taken some re-adjusting to. You'd spent the two weeks of Christmas break at the Burrow with your boyfriend Fred and his family, just as you had for the previous two years and it was both fun and relaxing at the same time, a perfect break from your usual school routine.
"Morning y/n," Hermione says as she walks into the great hall, sitting down at the table in front of you as she fills her glass full of pumpkin juice. Your sleep schedule had been thoroughly thrown off by the holidays and you'd groaned as you shot awake way before you needed to this morning, not able to get back to sleep. You'd begrudgingly dragged yourself out of bed and gotten dressed in thick, warm layers before taking a small walk around the grounds as the sunrise bloomed over the hills, the sun waking up with you.
You'd been early to breakfast, arriving at the deserted hall even before breakfast had started and so you slipped away into the kitchens and had managed to acquire a cup of tea that one of the busy house elves had placed onto the Gryffindor table for you with an accommodating and very appreciated snap of their fingers. You'd pulled out your book and had read a few chapters whilst drinking your cup of tea before the breakfast had magically appeared on the tables promptly at 7am.
"Morning Hermione," you greeted with a tired smile, still feeling as if you were waking up slowly. You chatted for a while as you both ate breakfast before some of your other friends turned up. You were just about to leave and go back to your dorm when a familiar presence appeared behind you, placing a kiss to your head as he climbed onto the bench beside you, his identical twin slotting in directly across from him.
"Morning gorgeous," Fred says with a smile, already piling up his plate with golden toast with one hand as the other wraps loosely around your waist from behind.
You noticed he and George were both wearing their new sweaters that Molly had knitted them for Christmas and you had to smile as you looked at your own sweater which was also a christmas gift from Molly and Arthur. Yours didn't have your initial stitched on the front like the others did but rather it was a beautifully intricate design of blended colours in a fair isle style, with multiple geometric patterns running across in various orange, autumnal hues. You'd been so excited to receive a Molly crafted sweater and she had really outdone herself with this one. You always looked forward to her gifts, having received a beautiful scarf last year and a pair of mittens the year before that, both lovingly created by hand.
"Morning Freddie, morning Georgie," you smile as George greets you enthusiastically, much too awake for this time in a morning. You tiredly rest your head on Fred's shoulder as he eats and he responds by stroking your back soothingly as you talk quietly to each other, joining in with the larger group conversation but also running your own little chatter just between the both of you.
"Did you want to come to Hogsmeade with me and George later? Got to pick up some stuff from Zonkos," Fred says as he tucks into his sausages, a smirk on his face at the prospect. "Thought we could get a butter beer or a takeaway tea from Puddifoot's and maybe have a walk to the shrieking shack."
"How romantic," you say sarcastically as he chuckles, nodding his head.
Feeling a chill run over you, you pull the sleeves of your sweater down over your hands, trying to fight of the cold air that circulated around the room.
"Oi Weasel-bee, nice jumper," you heard Draco's whiny voice say from the table behind you, making you roll your eyes. You glanced up at Ron who looked immediately offended but was choosing to ignore him until he spoke up again, "I'm surprised your family could afford all that disgusting wool or does she reuse the same jumpers? That would make them what, fourth-hand at this point?"
"Shove off Malfoy," Ron says with a bite in his voice, turning abruptly back to the table as Harry tries to divert the conversation quickly away.  You can see George is looking angry across the table as he tries to calm himself and Fred beside you is stiff in his seat.
"Oh look, it seems the Weasley's have a new family member they can't afford!" He says, fixing his attention to you, looking at the jumper you were wearing.
"Nice jumper y/l/n," Draco says mockingly.
You simply look up at him with a fakest, most sarcastic smile and tone of voice you could muster and playfully said, "thanks Draco!"
He frowned briefly at your pleasantness before trying again to wind you up, not happy that he didn't get the reaction he wanted.
"So which one are you shagging again? Do their parents really hate you that much to give you that jumper?"
You feel Fred tense even more and you place your hand on his leg under the table to stop him from starting anything, knowing how cross Draco's words would have made him. You briefly catch George's eye, who looks furious, but you wordlessly tell him not to do anything with a subtle look before turning back to Draco.
"Are you deliberately thick?" You ask, raising your eyebrow at him as he blanched at your words, standing up and moving over to the table. "This jumper was a homemade gift from their parents, showing that I've got two sets of parents that love me and care enough to give a thoughtful gift, can you say the same? What did you get for Christmas from yours, more scars on your hand from your dad's stupid cane? Maybe another tailored black suit that shows how little personality you actually have?"
There's silence in the hall as everyone seems to watch your interaction. Draco, falling silent for a few seconds suddenly huffs and walks away muttering under his breath with Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy trailing behind him like faithful sheep.
Your friends all erupt in cheers at your little victory and you laugh at them as you take a sip of pumpkin juice.
"Which one am I shagging," you laugh, "that's a new one."
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solavita · 28 days ago
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.ೃ࿐ teacher assistant! satoru almost out of university, was selected to teach a higher level class on the account of looking good for his first job. so, he was a TA, teaching under a professor but was basically given full rein with the class, as the professor seemed to focus more on research than teaching the class. the second he was in the lecture discussion, he saw you walk in. you were a junior, just a year under him in university and god were you beautiful. almost mouth wateringly so. it made him sick in the head at how pretty you were.
.ೃ࿐ teacher assistant! satoru who practically watched your every move the minute you came into his classroom. and gods above, you were smart, almost as smart as he was (though he wouldn't ever admit that) and it was clear that you liked him. you always smiled when he complimented your high scores on tests and quizzes, and would read the notes that he put in the margins of your essays with a glimmer in your eyes. he needed to talk to you, needed to be closer to you, and the only way he could think of was to give you slightly lower marks on your essays and homeworks. never on a test, he wouldn't ever want to drop your grade enough for it to be concerning, but he did wait for you to stumble into his office hours. and you did. you asked him how you could do better on the material, and he told you that he'd help you.
.ೃ࿐ teacher assistant! satoru didn't have an office, only a classroom that he was lent during his office hours on the top floor of a rather deserted building. it was there that you would meet him, every tuesday and thursday, to go over problems. he liked the way that your lip would be bitten in between your teeth when you were looking at a particularly hard problem, or when you would look at him with your big doe eyes when you asked him for help. and whenever you asked him for help, he would lean closer, and explain it to you.
.ೃ࿐ teacher assistant! satoru finally got the courage to make a move. you asked him for help and he placed his hand on your thigh, as if he was using it to keep himself steady as he leaned over. but instead of watching him explain on the paper, you kept your attention on his face. and then he pushed his hand further up your thigh, under your skirt, and you didn't stop him. your hand came to his and you pushed it up until it was cupping your pussy. he fingered you right then and there, hoping beyond hoping that no one else would walk into his office hours for help. the two of you made out while he fingered you, going as far as to press three fingers into you, with a squelching sound, your moans echoing through the room softly.
.ೃ࿐ teacher assistant! satoru and you always met during his office hours, until you decided to go to his home one day for some extra tutoring. it ended with you in his large bed with your legs spread, while he put his fingers in your mouth as he fucked you with such fervor that you were sure you were going to break.
.ೃ࿐ teacher assistant! satoru would be grading papers, and you would slink under his desk and pull his cock out, spitting on the tip and bobbing your head up and down until he gave you the attention you wanted. he always fantasized about you doing this when he was teaching another class, with you working him with your mouth as he sat on his desk and no one else knew the wiser. he would have to try that with you one day.
.ೃ࿐ teacher assistant! satoru had lots of words like how dirty you were for sleeping with your teacher. "you're such a needy thing, aren't you?" "show me how good you've gotten" when you were riding him. "you probably fantasize about my cock in class, don't you?" it was all so derogatory. and other times he would praise you. he would tell you how smart and beautiful you were. he would let you cum when you got a problem right while he sat under the desk, eating you out. when you got a problem wrong, he would stop, and no amount of begging would get him to continue unless you continued your work.
.ೃ࿐ teacher assistant! satoru who used all his money from his job to buy you different types of leggings and panties to wear under your skirts. all just for him to rip a hole in them and have you walk with that under your skirt for the rest of the day. or he would steal them and think about what he was going to buy for you next. or how you would text him what was under your clothing, teasing him right before class so you could see how noticeably hard he got from it when you walked in.
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w4w4lycsss · 5 months ago
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I saw you were taking requests for Hades :3
Soo...him x transmasc reader maybe? Like the reader is dysphoric n stuff sigh
And just him x a male reader in general I'm not normal abt the man ragh
SHUT UP, BOY | HADES
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summary: You had resentment towards Hades because you feel that he does not validate you, which is quite the opposite and he shows it to you. pairing: Hades x male!transmasc!reader warning: gender dysphoria, body dysphoria and transphobia a/n: I'm a member of the trans umbrella! It was very nice to write it
You had gotten into the bad habit of being a very defensive boy, everything they said to you you took rudely to defend yourself, and it was a terrible way to socialize, so you didn't have many friends. No matter how villainous, macabre and twisted the VKs were, they all respected your identity and when they made fun of you they had the minimum education to respect your identity, at least.
You were angry with them because they had tripped you and you had thrown your things at the entrance to your room, a gesture that irritated your already strong character, you were just sitting on the floor picking up and releasing indirect insults to those who did not see you and collided with you .
When you are missing half of your books, someone bumps their knee into your shoulder, making you raise your head angrily to complain without receiving a response. The person is forgotten when you see Hades, yes, the god of the underworld himself and a VK walk in your direction staring at you.
The only thing you think about is quickly picking up your books before it's too late and he throws them at you again.
 A whirlpool attacks your brain, sweeping away your coherent thoughts when he finally reaches you, bending down and picking up the missing half. You didn't know whether to thank him or insult him.
“I need help with homework. I’m going to pay you back.”
SON OF A BITCH. INTERESTED. UNGRATEFUL TORCH-
You just roll your eyes and receive your books, carrying some in your arms and putting others in your bag. “First, what do you intend to pay me with?” You pause when he opens his mouth. “I'm not interested in money.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What do you want then?”
“Your friends stop bothering me.”
“I can’t promise they will deliver.”
“Then let them reduce it.”
He shrugged and you walked into your room, being followed by him. They were not going to comply.
After doing what many thought impossible, that is, Hades getting a good grade, he didn't stop looking for you with stupid excuses, the most common being that he was bored and couldn't find his friends or he was tired of listening to Uliana complain.
Little by little they formed what could be called 'hate friendship', which was the two of you being friends who insult each other and make unpleasant comments about each other but who at the same time help and defend each other.
Defender.
Not everyone at school was open-minded like you expected, and after a while you got used to it and just let them be as long as they didn't blurt out some personally derogatory comment for the purpose of being annoying. How had it happened to you now?
You were locked in your room, you had locked the door while you looked at yourself with contempt in the full-length mirror; You never hated yourself, you just let yourself develop and when you came of age you would do what you had to do.
You watched as your hair trailed to your elbows, embracing you in an unpleasant mess like greasy cobwebs. Your sculpted waist as if you were a porcelain doll and the curve of your legs towards your crotch made you nauseous.  Your bust wasn't exaggerated, but not all the layers of clothing in the world could hide it.
Miss. Lady. Princess.
“Y/N!” He knocked on your door hard.
“I'm not here.”
“If you don't open the door I'll burn it”
“No, you won't.” You sighed, tearing your heavy gaze away from the distorted figure in the mirror and turning the knob to let Hades in. “What happend?”
He took your arms in a paranoid manner hidden from external annoyance. “What happend? That you locked yourself in your room after an idiot has opened his mouth, that has happened.”
“Where is he now?” You furrowed your eyebrows in doubt.
"Oh, he'll probably be in the infirmary because of the beating that Hook and Maleficent will give him."
"There's no necessary."
“It is completely necessary. Are you OK? Why did you lock the door?”
You looked down. Your face did not express anything; neither tiredness, nor annoyance, nor discomfort nor sadness, it was like a blank canvas that seemed to be painted with the desperation of your mind to be someone.
“I'm fine, seriously, it was nothing.”
Hades, still unconvinced drowning in paranoia and holding your arms so tightly that his nails were beginning to print on your arms, finally hugged you, rubbing his hands down your back to give you comfort.
“You're not like the others, right?”
"What are you talking about?"
“I thought you hated me.”
"I don't understand you."
“Hades, do you see me as a boy?”
The words scratch your throat with the pain of letting them out in a broken whisper, which makes your face take on the expression of being desperate, but also of just wanting him to take care of it. He brings his leather-gloved hand up and cups your cheek, caressing it with his thumb. 
The look in his eyes is nothing but pure longing and cheesy crap you swore you hated until he started punching idiots who refused to respect you. Maybe it wasn't the most romantic thing, but the intention to dare was something new.
"You're my boy, if you wasn't like that I wouldn't have let you get as close as you are now.”
“You came to me.”
He shrugged. “It's something you hit me.”
His face gets dangerously close to yours until his lips meet yours, making your stomach jump and you leave him alone, speaking for all the times you dreamed of a happy ending full of pink hearts for Let them shut up and let you live in the very close moment.
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