#i think i need to switch college majors i can’t keep doing this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

plutowrites · 3 months ago

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hi! this might seem random but i just wanna ask if you privated '𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮'? i just thought of that wonderful story of yours out of nowhere and dug thru my reblogs to find it but when i click on the 'keep reading' button it says here that the url can't be found anymore :(

HIIII!

you inquiring about a work of mine is such a huge compliment that brings me SO many warm feelings. thank you :)

I privated a lottttt of my old fics. i would read them again after some time and go "this needs a revamp. like asap."

having people read them in that state didn't make me feel great and so i privated them with hopes of maybeee editing them and reposting

after reading your ask tho, i went back the road that leads to you and edited it so you can have it again on ONE condition tho. you gotta tell me all your thoughts and fav parts of the fic.

KIDDDINGGGG.

adding the fic under the cut. i hope you enjoy again <3

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮

Almost immediately, you notice Akaashi is a good driver—a way better driver than you are. Plus, his car smells fresh, and you’re not currently sitting on a dirty sock or a McDonald's Big Mac wrapper, which makes you feel a little better about the situation. It’s not that you were expecting a complete walking disaster as your road trip buddy, but when you first saw the “Hello, I have some inquiries about the flyer you posted” text a couple of days ago, signed at the end with Akaashi Keiji, you let out a loud groan, realizing that you were potentially going to be riding with a guy. Alas, you had no choice but to swallow all the safety precautions your parents drilled into you since you were a little girl and especially right before you went away to college (Exhibit A: don’t hitch rides with strange men!) and accept the offer.

Why?

Your stupid car has a flat tire and is in desperate need of an oil change. That was the deciding factor.

“Are you comfortable?” Akaashi’s voice is smooth like velvet, and you almost jump at the sound of it. The first hour was spent mostly in silence, with the occasional question about how the semester is going. You didn’t mind it too much—you liked how Akaashi didn’t force conversation. If there was nothing to be said, then, nothing was said.

“As much as one can be riding with a stranger for the first time across state lines.”

Akaashi exhales, “I promise with confidence that I’m not going to kidnap you.” He pauses before continuing, “But then again, what are promises made by a kidnapper truly worth?”

“That’s really comforting, thank you.”

He looks at you quickly, his eyebrows raised slightly, like he’s trying to read you. “Sorry, let’s try that again. I’m not a kidnapper. I just wanted to see my parents and my dog this weekend.”

You nod your head knowingly. “I think it’ll help if you told me more about yourself.” In all honesty, you already felt more than semi-comfortable in the presence of the dark-haired, tall boy sitting next to you. This was only an excuse to get to know him better, maybe gain a friend out of all of this.

“Hm. I’m not sure what to say here.”

“What’s your major?” you ask.

“English literature and criminal law. Yours?”

“Undecided.” Akaashi simply nods his head at your response, focusing his attention on driving. You add, “Oh wow, thank you for not judging me. Everyone I tell makes some sort of face after I share that.”

“Eh, there are so many programs to choose from—it’s not the end of the world to wait until next year to pick a program. You can’t imagine how many students end up switching majors halfway through because they found something that suits them more. I think going undecided is a smart move.” He shrugs, catching your not-so-subtle gaze on him before returning his eyes to the road. His response makes you feel warm, but you don’t show it. Well, maybe you do show it a little on your cheeks.

“So, I take it you don’t have any siblings? Or you do, but you hate them with such burning rage and intensity that you didn’t bother mentioning them earlier and mentioned your dog instead?”

“You’re a bit humorous.” He breathes out with a tiny smile on his face. You wonder how he would look if he let that smile reach the rest of him. “I’m an only child.”

You make a booing noise.

Akaashi chuckles. “Agreed. Do you?”

“An older sister, but she left home ages ago. She had the right idea.”

“Yikes. What’s going on over there?”

“At home? Nothing, it’s the town that’s the issue.”

“I can’t say we had the same experiences then.”

You glance over at him, and he’s wearing a face of perplexity. “Of course.”

“Pardon me?”

“Of course you love our town. You’re like the poster boy for it.”

His face is unreadable. “Considering the distaste you have for it, I’m not feeling overly confident that you’re fond of me.”

“The way you speak! Oh my gosh—Oh no. Stop, don’t look at me like that. It’s not supposed to be an insult! Okay, moving all the way on,” you chuckle to yourself. “Favorite soda?”

“Not a fan of carbonated drinks. You?”

“Yikes, you’re losing a lot of points in my book.” Akaashi then slowly holds up the aux cord for you to grab, which you take as a sign to stop blabbering and shut up. You take the cord from him and plug it into your phone.

He breaks the silence. “Hm, go on. What’s your favorite silly little drink?” he presses.

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face like a wave reaching the shore. Crashing onto the shore, more like. You can’t stop f—cking smiling.

“Cherry Coke.”

----

“Making friends is hard.”

“Wow,” is all Akaashi says.

You peek at him quickly. “What?”

He raises his dark eyebrows like he can’t believe you even have to ask. “If you’re having trouble meeting new people, there’s no hope for the rest of us.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’re a people person—” his eyes twinkle at you like he’s some sort of Disney character, “—and you’re all smiles, which is incredibly inviting.”

On cue, you smile as wide as you can, until your cheeks begin to hurt a little. “And you, Akaashi, are all neutral-toned cardigans and sweaters.”

He glances down at his outfit: a light coffee-brown cable-knit sweater (of course), layered with a white collared shirt underneath and light-washed jeans. Akaashi bites back a smile. “I sound very boring.”

“You sound and look smart, which is a pretty solid first impression because it’s true.”

“Smart.” He repeats the word with a twinge of doubt, like it’s the first time anyone has ever called him that (which you can’t possibly fathom). People with his level of intelligence are usually showered in praise, especially in a small town like the one the two of you just escaped from.

“Do you miss home?” you ask abruptly, gripping the wheel a little harder. You’ve heard your roommate cry into her pillow late at night. When you asked if she was okay, she told you stories about her hometown until the early hours of the morning. You feel like the only freshman who can’t relate to that specific kind of homesickness. Not entirely, at least.

Without missing a beat, he sighs, “Yeah.”

Maybe you’re the only one who sees leaving that city as escaping.

“Why?” you ask, genuinely curious. Of course, there were good things about it: your family, the friends who stayed local for college, and maybe that one Ethiopian restaurant before it shut down when you were a senior in high school. That closing alone made you despise the city even more. Or maybe it was the event that pushed your hatred over the edge. You really, really loved that place.

Akaashi must’ve zoned out beside you because he doesn’t answer. Instead, he gazes out of the passenger side window, resting his head against it. He fiddles with the rings on his long fingers. You watch him from the corner of your eye as you drive the narrow, long road ahead.

“What’s wrong with taking highways again?” he asks after some time, his voice teasing, though his face remains neutral. So far, Akaashi has driven once, and you, twice.

“I’m just scared to. Had a bad experience once, and now I avoid them if I can.” You leave it at that, and Akaashi doesn’t push for more.

Some time passes before he changes the conversation. “Isn’t it interesting how there are only two high schools in our hometown, yet we went to different ones?”

You scoff. “I��m glad we didn’t attend the same one.”

“I’m wounded, Y/N.” You turn to look at him, met with puppy-dog eyes.

Lethal, very dangerous puppy-dog eyes.

“Please,” you make a sour face. “I was an embarrassing, angsty teenager.”

He smiles, probably picturing what you were like back then. You shudder at the thought. “Wasn’t everyone?” he says eventually.

You sigh, “You must’ve been popular, right? Smart, athletic, attractive, smelled good, dressed nice.”

“I’m flattered you think I didn’t just acquire those traits after graduation.”

“No, I can tell from these past couple of weeks of being friends that you’ve always been well-rounded. You’re every parent’s dream kid.”

“You assume so much, I’ve noticed.”

“And you notice so much, weirdo,” you fire back, teasingly. Akaashi picks up on things about you so quickly it’s surprising. Like how you always forget your laptop charger when you study together (you seem to leave your dorm with an almost-dead laptop, which drives him insane), so he brings his for you. Or how he knows you like extra pickles on your sandwiches and lets you take the ones out of his. He even memorized your sub order and your coffee order the second time you went to the campus cafe together.

“Ah, is it obvious then?”

“Yes, very,” you laugh.

Instantly, the atmosphere shifts, growing heavier, though you’re not sure why. You watch as he bites his lip, like he’s thinking about something serious. His broad shoulders fall as he rushes out an apology. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

He refuses to meet your eyes, and if he did, he’d see just how confused you are. You force yourself to drag your gaze back to the road, even though you want to stare at him longer.

You squint at him, your brows furrowed. “Um, I’m saying this as nicely as I can—what the hell are you talking about, Keiji?”

“What are you talking about?”

“How observant you are... what are you on about?”

His eyes widened for a second before settling back to normal. “I was as well.” He turns on the radio and leans back in his seat.

---

“This is going to be an awkward four hours if you refuse to speak to me.”

“I’m not refusing anything,” you enunciate, trying to prove your point, but you end up sounding like a snobby child. You weren’t necessarily not talking to Akaashi on purpose—you just had a lot on your mind.

And it was all his fault.

Aaaand maybe you were giving him the cold shoulder, but it didn’t seem like an intense one—maybe a lukewarm shoulder at best.

“Come on, you haven’t even glanced at me yet.”

“How would you know? You’re driving,” you shoot back.

“Is this because of—”

“Shut up. Please. Don’t mention her name.”

“I thought you guys were friends?”

“She’s my roommate, of course she’s my friend. A very close one in fact, so you can imagine my current state.”

“Y/n,” he groans, dragging out your name in a plea for you to look at him instead of straight ahead. “You walked in at the worst possible moment.”

“Oh, so you wanted to do more…” The thought makes your stomach churn.

You hear him take a deep breath. “Of course not. You misunderstood what happened. Can I explain? Please?”

“You don't have to, but go ahead.” You can hear the edge in your own voice, and you know Akaashi can too. Where is this snappiness coming from? It was just a kiss, and if it were anything more than that, why would it even bother you?

Why does a little kiss bother you this much?

“After I edited her English paper, I came by to drop it off. She insisted I step inside, so I did.” He pauses for a moment, thinking. “I was hoping to catch you, but you weren’t there. After looking over my corrections, she got really excited and grateful—”

“She kissed you out of gratitude?”

“Kind of. She was aiming for my cheek, and I didn’t know what was happening, so I moved, and she caught my lips instead. Completely my fault. I’m awkward as f—ck.” He drums his slender fingers against the wheel. You can feel his eyes flick over your face, but you refuse to look.

The sight of them kissing after your hellish day was enough to make your head spin. The kiss was quick, but that didn’t change the way it made you feel—like you’d just walked in on something personal, something you shouldn’t have seen. You’d mumbled some apologies before bolting. Your face had felt as hot as everyone else’s in the room.

“Sorry, it’s really none of my business,” you shrug, trying to play it cool even though you know there’s no going back after ignoring him for half the road trip. At least you can salvage what’s left of the journey by shifting the conversation.

But still, there’s a question lingering in the back of your mind, one you can’t ignore.

“Do you want to date her?”

You hear a choking sound, followed by a fit of coughing. “After one mishap of a kiss that wasn’t even supposed to happen?” Keiji manages.

“Just answer the question.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

-----

Funny how "absolutely not" means nothing when it comes to the college dating pool.

“Your hair got longer, by the way.” You noticed this a while back when his once-slick black hair had started to curl, spiking up in all directions.

“Do I need to cut it?” he asks, a little wary. He’s wearing a black baseball cap, and it makes the length stand out even more.

“I love it. You look so cute.” You reach over the console, twirling a loose strand around your pinky finger. The corner of his mouth twitches into a tiny smile. Akaashi Keiji might just be the cutest boy you’ve ever seen.

“So, soon it’ll be winter break,” he says.

Silence.

“Correct.”

More silence.

“And we’ll be driving back home.”

Okay?

“Also correct.”

“Aika wants to come home... with me.” Akaashi’s words come out choppy, awkward, like he knows this conversation isn't going to end well.

You frown. “Why?”

“She really wants to see my family and friends. Mainly Koutarou, because of how much I talk about him.” He smiles to himself. Seeing your confused look, he adds, “Sorry. Bokuto.”

“I know who Koutarou is,” you snap. You’re just confused—why is he inviting his girlfriend of, what, a month?—to meet his family when you, his closest friend since the start of the year, have never been invited anywhere. You’re from the same city, for f—ck’s sake.

“What is it, Y/n? Your face...”

You wave an annoyed hand. “Just keep driving.”

His jaw tightens and he slips out, “Alright.”

You try to hold back your frustration, but the way he just breezes past your feelings makes your chest ache. “This is exactly what I was afraid of when you two started dating,” you whisper.

“Afraid of what?”

“Feeling like an outsider.”

“How do we make you feel like an outsider?” Keiji’s voice is gentle, genuinely curious. He just wants to understand. That makes you feel worse.

You sigh, taking a deep breath. “For starters, the whole ��we’ every time you talk about her—it drives me wild.”

He shakes his head, clearly struggling to understand. “I don’t get it, Y/n. She’s my girlfriend.” He then takes a lengthy pause before he adds, “are you… jealous?”

“Obviously I am,” you snap, harsher than you intend. You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to calm down. When you speak again, your voice is quieter. “You spend so much time with her, and it’s fine, I promise, I like Aika, but you treat me like an afterthought every single time. Am I wrong to want your time too? You’ve never even invited me to meet your friends or your family, and that—-it hurts.”

“You’re jealous?”

You blink slowly. He’s unbelievable. “I think we kind of went over that.”

“No. Y/n. Like, you’re seriously jealous that Aika is my girlfriend?” he asks, urgent now, and when you don’t respond, he adds, “Because that’s not fair.”

You’re too tired to argue, too drained to unpack all that. All you want is to go home.

“Glad you learned now that nothing is ever fair.”

-----

You decide not to go home for winter break. Your parents ended up attending a wedding for your dad’s business partner in a different state, which turned into a full-blown vacation. You were the one who insisted they go, since it’s been ages since they got to spend any quality time together outside of rushed, late-night dinners and early morning conversations. With them away, there was no point in traveling all that way home to an empty house.

Your older sister invited you to stay with her up North, but you turned the offer down almost immediately. You weren’t particularly fond of her partner—or her mean little chihuahua with a nasty habit of biting toes.

Fortunately for you, you’ve got the dorm all to yourself for three weeks. It’s weird to think that Aika is in your city with Keiji right now. You wonder if she finds its small-town quirkiness charming or if she’s appalled by the fact that there’s exactly one mall in the entire town, and it doubles as a grocery store and movie theater.

You’re currently curled up on your bed with a book assigned for your sociology class. Might as well get some work done, you think. Make use of all this extra time.

You’ve already exhausted the solo activities: you binged a ton of Netflix, baked in the common kitchen (go you!), and even painted a hideous Christmas tree decoration that you’ve convinced yourself is not ugly—just camp.

You weren’t expecting any visitors, so when a knock sounds at your door, you’re genuinely surprised. Rushing to open it, you find Keiji standing there in a hoodie decorated with tiny, melting snowflakes and a hopeful look on his face.

In an extremely calm and collected voice, he asks, “Hi, would you be interested in spending the holidays with me?”

“What? I—”

He interrupts, “You can stay in the guest room, meet my dog, my parents, and Kou.” He takes a deep breath. “I would really like your company, Y/n.”

“Keiji, wait. Did you run here?” you ask, noticing his quick breaths and heaving chest. Grabbing the sleeve of his hoodie, you pull him inside. You point to your bed and sternly say, “Sit.”

“I’m wet.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do.” Without another thought, Akaashi pulls his sweater up and over his head, revealing a white shirt underneath. You look away quickly, but not before catching a glimpse of his toned stomach, daring you to stare. You like to think you passed that test.

He finally sits, catching his breath. “Where’s Aika?” you ask, arms crossed.

“She’s back in her city. I drove her home.”

Your mouth drops. “Wait, what? She’s been talking about spending the break with you for weeks! Why would you drive her home?” you whisper-shout, half in disbelief, half in annoyance.

You didn’t like the person you became whenever your roommate talked about Keiji. You wanted to be happy for her, you really did. But it tore you apart knowing it was your Keiji she gushed about. And you hated that it hurt.

“We broke up, that’s why.”

You sit down beside him, clutching your chest like the wind’s been knocked out of you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I—”

He takes your hand in his. “Don’t apologize.”

You exhale. His touch is cold but gentle. “Why did you guys break up?”

“Do you have to ask?” he smiles softly, eyes dropping to the floor. A few quiet beats pass before he looks at you again. “Hey,” he whispers, brushing a strand of hair from your eyes. “The real question is, are you coming with me on the road trip back home?”

“Uh.” You bite your lip. “Are you sure?”

“Very.”

Your answer is a no-brainer. There isn’t anything you want more than to spend the holidays with him—this boy sitting next to you, rubbing tiny circles over your thumb. “I would love to.”

“Good,” he hums, resting his head in the nook of your neck like it’s where it belongs. “Because I wasn’t leaving here without you.”

-----

“My goal for the next three weeks is to make you fall in love with our adorable little town.”

You snort, rolling your eyes at his confession. “Aim lower, Keiji.”

He cocks his head. “It’s that impossible, huh? Well, I do have another goal.”

“Spill,” you say, ripping open a mega-sized pack of M&Ms he conveniently left for you in the car, alongside your favorite drink—Cherry Coke. A few chocolates tumble onto the floor, sending Keiji into near-cardiac arrest. He watches in horror, lips pressed into a tight line, ready to scold you.

“Every time you leave my car, you leave behind some sort of—”

“A token of myself for you to remember me by?”

“—Garbage,” he corrects, totally unimpressed.

You grin sheepishly. “Go on. What’s your other goal?”

“Oh, right,” he coughs once. “My other goal is to win your heart.”

You nearly choke on an M&M. “Blunt as ever, Keiji.”

“Charming too, I hope.” He smiles faintly. You’ve memorized all of Akaashi Keiji’s smiles. Every single one. You even have a mental list of your favorites—like when you’re being your usual dramatic self, going off about some ridiculous exchange in the dining hall, and Keiji looks up from his glowing laptop to send you that lopsided smile, the one that tells you he’s listening and taking your side.

Then there’s his tired smile, the one he reserves for you after long study sessions, when he says goodbye with the same look that reassures you he’ll see you tomorrow, that your little world will keep spinning just the same.

You collect his smiles like they’re candy, and you’re an overzealous trick-or-treater trying to fill the heaviest bag. But his smirks? Those are rare, and they get to you every time.

And suddenly, it hits you.

It finally freaking hits you.

“Have you ever wondered why someone who supposedly hates their hometown as much as I do… visits so often?”

“Every passing second,” he murmurs, flicking off the turn signal after switching lanes.

“It’s because sitting in a car with you—being here with you like this—makes me so happy. Sure, I love seeing my parents and visiting friends once we’re home, but… it’s you I look forward to the most.” Your heart pounds as you speak, the words finally lifting the weight off your chest. “You don’t have to win my heart, Keiji. You already have it. It’s yours. All yours.”

“Y/n,” He says your name slowly, savoring every syllable. The way his teal eyes fix on yours makes your breath catch. “You were right about everything,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “Especially the whole ‘we’ thing. ‘We’ should mean me and you. It’s always going to be me and you.” He grips your hand tighter. “It’s always going to be us.”

-----

You feel a hand reach the small of your back, followed by a soft mouth pressing against your ear. “Having fun?”

You grin, immediately recognizing who slipped into the stool beside you. “I didn’t know we had enough people in this city to fill a restaurant like this.” You watch as Keiji rolls his eyes teasingly and tugs on your ear.

“Hm, what did Koutarou say about me? What were his first impressions?” you ask, curious about what your now-boyfriend’s best friend thinks of you. You can feel Bokuto’s eyes on the two of you from across the room, his friendly smile reaching from ear to ear. You wave at him, and he waves back.

“He can’t stop talking about you. He keeps reiterating that he can’t believe I have a girlfriend—and that girlfriend is you. I’m sorry, but he might be joining our dates for a long time.”

You laugh at that, sneaking another glance at Bokuto. He’s proudly wearing someone’s Santa hat, looking ridiculous yet charming. “Probably forever,” you reply.

“Are you okay with that?” Keiji squeezes your knee.

“Sure, as long as you’re not too shy to show affection in front of him.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he says, pretending to lean in. Giggling, you place a hand on his chest to stop him, beaming as you shoot him all the love you have inside through your eyes.

“I’m so happy I let you drag me back here.”

Akaashi chuckles. “Drag is a bit of an exaggeration, I think, but I feel the same way. I promise one day we’ll travel to other places—places you don’t hate vehemently.”

“You know that doesn’t make a difference to me. Wherever you go, I go.” And you mean it. Pressing a tender kiss to his cheek, you whisper against his skin, “It’s always going to be us.”

He softly repeats after you, “Yeah, it’s always going to be us.”

#pluto answers #anything for beloved readers #i love yall downn #keiji x reader #akaashi x reader #haikyu x reader

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mintmatcha · 7 months ago

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hey mint <3 um. ik your askbox is flooded and you probably have better stuff to do. but do you have any advice for a sad gal who didn’t get into any of the unis i applied to? 🥹 i applied last year too when i was straight out of high school and then it didn’t really matter yk cause if i didn’t get in i’d take a sabbatical. which i did. but now it’s like. i feel like i’ve run out of chances yk. it’s silly ik cause i’ve only just turned 20 but still. i applied to four different music schools (none of which are like. SUPER prestigious so i thought i had a chance) and three for musical theatre (same thing) cause i just can’t envision a future where i work a 9 to 5 in an office, start going out with a coworker and start pop his kids out and get married and live a shitty ass life i don’t want. but time’s sorta up you know? either i gotta start working or i gotta switch lanes and find something else to study. but i want to do music or musical theatre. and i feel so lost lmao and mb you don’t have it all figured out (i don’t think anyone has rly) but you feel safe to vent to lol it’s silly but. i just like your blog and you seem like you’re a really nice person and if i had a nice older sibling i’d vent to them but i don’t. and all my friends are away or getting into schools and i’d just feel like a failure if i told them and i don’t want to tell my parents cause they don’t want me to do music. so i’m kinda stumped lol and now i’m venting to a stranger online. heh. anyways i hope you have a nice day and i know this got really long and you’re free to ignore it but if you’ve got any advice or words of encouragement i really need it. keep up your good work on this planet ❤️

- a lil lost soul

(i didn’t think i was THAT upset but i started crying while writing this and now i feel pathetic lol)

Music is a difficult field to break into, but you can definitely work some gigs in the mean time to bump out your resume if you decide to apply again.

I was actually a music performance major in college at first and changed because I hated music theory so much. paths change all of the time and it's always scary, but that's the way to go forward.

I'm sorry you're going through this. feel your feels and then keep on keeping on

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margot-is-writing · 8 months ago

Text

PROMPT 1 - GIRL CRUSH

YOU WOULD BEG FOR HER ATTENTION. SHE’S EVERYTHING YOU’VE EVER WANTED. THEN, ONE DAY, SHE WAVES AT YOU.

LET ME GO FIRST, THEN SHARE YOUR STORY WITH THE #MARGOTSPROMPT

Word count: 941

The train moves through the city, buildings blur together. Yet they’re not what I’m looking at. My eyes move through the corridors, until I find her blonde head. My heart speeds up. For a moment, I thought she wasn’t here. Instead of jumping and giggling for the joy I’m feeling, I go to sit in front of her.

As every other morning, she’s reading the newspaper. During the journey, she skips the sports articles, enjoying more the ones about fashion. Maybe she’s a fashion student, I wish I had the audacity to ask her about it. Maybe she would tell me about her major, and I’d tell her about my own college experience, how I’m finding it hard to smile when I’m away from my parents. Instead of doing that, I simply steal glances, until I notice her blue eyes look up, then I know it’s time for me to feign indifference. She gets off the train at her usual stop.

I take a deep breath. An old woman gets on the train and sits where she was sitting, and I’m left wondering whether, one day, I’ll be brave enough to talk to her. I wish that day would come.

She smells of fresh lemons. It’s something I’m left to think about after she’s gotten off the train. A man sits at her spot, and I cross my legs to occupy as little space as possible. I start doodling on my journal, and soon it’s her face looking up at me. She has sharp cheekbones and soft lips. I wish I would know their taste.

I buy a perfume that smells of citrus fruits, yet when I try it on in my small bathroom, it’s not the same. A wave of melancholy washes over me, and I tear up. God, I must be going crazy. We’ve never even talked, yet I’m already imagining what it would be like to live with her by my side. Wake by her side in the morning. Walk my dog with her. It’s a life I desire desperately, one I fear I’ll never have. I get to taste it every morning when I sit by her, and it’s enough to keep me wanting, but not to feed my hunger much longer. I have to talk to her.

It’s a day later that it happens. I’m wearing my big, white headphones and walking down the corridor, and as I do every morning, I spot her head. She’s not alone, though. There’s an old man sitting in front of her, occupying the seat next to him with a heavy-looking backpack.

My heart breaks. For a moment, I think about going there and begging him to switch seats. “You don’t understand!” I would scream. “I need this!” But then, I’m not that crazy yet, so I don’t yell and cry. Instead, I idly sit elsewhere. Not so distant that I can’t see her, but enough that I can’t smell her perfume.

Maybe she smells like that because she uses a body cream. I should look up a lemon body cream on Amazon. If I had her smell close, maybe my dependence on her would diminish. Then again, no drug is ever enough for an addict.

I sigh and relax my back against the back-pillow. For a moment I close my eyes, and in my mind, her face pops up. She’s sad that I’m not sitting in my usual place, and she wishes I would’ve switched seats with the man. She’s disappointed, and I can’t stand it.

I’m disappointed in myself, actually. Because I’m really going crazy. I’m thinking so hard about someone who hasn’t even noticed I exist in the same world as her. She’s everything, and I’m just me, with my old backpack and mismatched socks. My eyes burn.

There’s a kid sitting in front of me. Well, not really a kid, probably just a few years younger than me, but I feel as though lifetimes go between us. He’s wearing his hat backwards, over hair the colour of sand. He looks me up and down, then furrows his eyebrows. I smile, then another blonde head catches my eyes.

She’s leaving. And to reach the doors, she’s walking towards me. Her hair is straight today, and she’s wearing a blue minidress, the tight kind that makes me look enormous. I wish I were her.

Just as I have that thought, something unexpected happens. Her beautiful eyes catch mine, my heart loses a few beats, and then — then she waves. She waves at me. She knows I exist.

My heart drops, at the same time as I raise my hand to wave back. I try to put on another smile, but it’s not real. Nothing feels real after this. Because I’ve seen her, she’s seen me, but she’s just a girl.

She’s just a girl whose name I don’t know. A girl who dresses nice and is very beautiful, but that’s it. She’s just another girl, and I’m everything. I’m not saying she’s nothing, but in my life, she is. She’s a stranger. I don’t know her. I know a few of her habits, like the way she picks her skin as her eyes skim through the newspaper, but what is she to me?

I’ve obsessed over her. I like her style. She has rizz, if that’s something to believe in. She’s charming in the way her hair bounces off her petit shoulder when she stands, but what else?

She’s just a girl. It makes me so sad I might just break down and cry, because if I don’t have her to obsess about, what am I left with?

#writing #writing prompt #writing prompts #my writing #margot #girl crush #wlw #lesbian story #MARGOTSPROMPT

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mochikage · 3 years ago

Note

hcs for falling in love with college au kakashi?

note: thank you for giving me a reason to indulge in modern kakashi au's <3

First, I think college au kakashi is usually spotted around campus with headphones on and either walking his dogs or reading his book, usually both. He may or may not be listening to music, he just has them on so people don’t bother him.

So I think in order to fall in love with him, he would either have to already know you from before, or he would have to double major in English (maybe he’s looking to be a journalist like Sukea or wants to be the editor in chief of a magazine where he can work remotely and make decent income idk) + whatever your major is. (I’ve written headcanons for what it’s like to be in love with him, but not quite yet in a relationship. To save space I excluded the paragraphs of writing that explains how you got to know each other <3 )

Overall, I think that falling in love with college au Kakashi is simultaneously one of the best feelings in the world and one of the most nerve-wrecking

It’s a great feeling because as a close friend of his, you KNOW he would take care of you

There’s been countless times where he’s picked you (and sometimes friends) up from the club or after a night out because you were far too drunk and he didn’t trust you taking an Uber in that drunken state

He’s helped you nurse your hangovers with a recipe that his friend Genma gave him the morning after his 21st, and let’s you stay cuddled up with his dogs in his bed until you feel better. You’ve always been tempted to ask him to cuddle you but your nerves keep you from doing so

Kakashi always checks in on you during midterms and finals, just to make sure you’re not over working yourself and that you’re getting enough rest (such a hypocrite, you’ve seen him leaving the library in early hours of the morning looking sleep deprived on more than one occasion)

You nearly text everyday. It’s so easy to talk to him about your classes and what’s happened, etc. He always seems interested in what you say and never makes you feel like you spam him can u tell i’m projecting a lil

Doesn’t love to facetime everyday, but will call you late at night if he knows you’re still awake or if you’ve texted him that you can’t fall asleep. He always offers to read his physics textbook to you, claiming that you’ll fall asleep faster AND smarter. Gets shy if you ask him to read you that book he’s always engrossed in (he won’t read it to you, not yet)

He also enjoys texting over facetime/calls because he can still do his own thing but also have ~some~ company.

If you have an early class together, he’s waiting for you outside your dorm with your favorite drink from the bakery right off campus.

The first time he did it, you asked him what the occasion was for. He’ll tell you that he needed some caffeine on the way to class and decided to stop by to get some for the two of you (and make a joking comment about how you’re easier to talk to when you’ve had something in the AM). What he won’t tell you is that he goes just for you. He doesn’t even drink coffee/tea in the morning and he’s praying that you don’t ever think about it too much.

Don’t try to pay him back, the money will somehow find it’s way either back in your bag (if cash) or in your bank account (if venmoed/paypal/etc.)

His dogs are very therapeutic when you’re really stressed. You can text him at anytime and ask if you can pet his dogs <3

It’s one of the most nerve-wrecking feelings because it’s so hard to tell what he’s feeling

Yes, he’s nice to you and you guys are friends, but getting a good read on the man is like taking an M-F 8AM lecture (impossible for me, showed up for the first class and switched out DURING the lecture)

It’s also hard because he’s a good friend of yours. You can’t and will not risk his friendship for anything in the world

Not to mention that he hasn’t dated anyone in the time that you’ve been in college. You’ve never had the heart to ask if he’s hooked up with people, but you’re inclined to think that he hasn’t---for your own sake. There is a part of you that wants him to do it just so you know what his type is (which tbh i don’t think regular kakashi or au kakashi have one, as long as they’re a good person <3)

The more you think about it, the more you realize that he’s never even talked about his love life with you. He’s so exclusive with his own personal life (outside of classes and college in general) but somehow even more private with his love life. Anyone can ask him anything, but he always replies with a perfectly vague answer.

It’s nerve-wrecking because with the amount of times he’s been around a drunk/high you, you’ve always been scared that you’d say something that will give you away. If you have, he’s never brought it up (bc he’s respectful <3)

He’s always been so kind and caring with you, but it’s hard to tell if that’s something he reserves for you or if he’s like that with his other friends.

You don’t spend too much time with his other friends, but you have seen him in some classes. He’s always been a diligent student, taking notes and paying attention during the lecture so maybe that’s why he can’t see the heart eyes thrown at him by the peers seated around him. Either he can’t see them, or he’s ignoring them on purpose

As hard as it is to read his facial expressions, his actions speak for themselves. It’s just a matter of when you’ll understand what they’re saying.

#anonymous #ask #kakashi ask #i hope this is what you expected #still not proofread IM SORRY #kakashi x reader #modern!kakashi #vanilla mochi #kakashi + vanilla mochi

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miekasa · 3 years ago

Note

speaking of college boys, what do the college au aot babies study??

Okay, okay, I think I’ve talked about this in an ask before but I can’t find it 😭😭 but it’s okay, I love college aus, so I’ll talk about it again! Plus, now I’ve got more thoughts for more characters, so here we go

Levi — neuroscience and psychology of human behavior

He started out on track to do a bachelor of arts in psychology, but when they touched on the anatomy and biological parts of it during his first year lecture, he switched to a bachelor of science.

The focus is still psychology, but through a more clinical lens. Essentially, he gets the best of both worlds this way. He’s intuitive and analytical, so clinical and mental diagnosis is easy to dissect for him. He’s also canonically good at math, so the calculus and stats parts aren’t too bad, either.

This major also leaves him with a few options post-grad, which is a nice bonus for him. He’s likely going to medical school, but that’s not the only route open to him: law school, therapy, lab work, medicine and pharmacy, even teaching are all viable options without going to grad school.

Do not talk to him about Freud unless you wanna get punted off a building.

Be careful with him, because with a single glance he’s already got scarily accurate predictions about your parental and emotional attachment styles, your behavior in social settings, and the onset (or seemingly lack thereof) of your frontal lobe development.

He thinks he’s so smart making comments like, “I see those synaptic connections aren’t working so well for you today,” like mf come here let me lobotomize you and see how well your synaptic connects are working after that🙄

Eren — general health sciences

He’s interested in science and the discovery aspects of it, but picking a specific field of focus right now feels too final. He likes it this way, because his schedule and requirements are less restrictive, and he has more room to find out what really interests him.

He does best when he’s doing something he loves, so picking a major with a bunch of reqs that he couldn’t care less about would have sucked big time for him. It also would have affected his grades. There are still some classes he has to take that he’s not fond of (see: chemistry), but that’s to be expected. Science in general is cool to him and he hopes to make his own discovery some day, even if it’s microscopic.

He also plays a lot of sports, keeping his schedule flexible is important. The sports end up helping him excel academically, which is a nice bonus. Honestly, Eren uses his time at university to learn more about himself than anything, so having control and freedom to do what he likes the majority of the time was important to him.

He uses his elective credits to take philosophy or history courses of his interest, or maybe even a course that you’re in just to spend time with you. He also uses you as a live model for his homework bye, congrats on being patient number one to him.

Armin — astronomy and physics

He’s still interested in marine biology, but unless he attended a school near a coast, or with a specialized integrated program for that, it’s unlikely he’d major in it during undergrad.

Space and ocean exploration aren’t all that different. Both are vast, largely unexplored domains that reel-in Armin’s interest for discovery. So, while studying astronomy, he still gets to study evolution and make his own predictions about what could be out there because there’s so much to know.

Physics comes with the territory of learning about planetary science, and he’s mathematically inclined, so it works out for him. Learning about the different physical properties of other planets and space masses is honestly pretty sick to him. Because math isn’t a struggle, he actually considered aeronautical engineering, but he didn’t want to be a part of the college to military pipeline; that is, he didn’t want any potential design of his to be weaponized.

He still gets to study animal biology through his elective courses, and might even find a few focused on marine animals to satiate him. Plant and cell biology are also of interest to him, and are just further applications of his primary study anyway, so he’s got plenty of room to work with.

This boy is interning at NASA and still, with his whole chest out is like, “I don’t need to discover a new planet, you’re my whole world.” Armin, go check on the Mars rover or something please.

Mikasa — anthropology + minor in japanese language studies

Anthropology is virtually interdisciplinary in nature, and Mikasa is a pretty well rounded student, so she’s able to excel in a program like this. She gets to study history, science, cultural studies, and even a bit of art all at once.

She’s still debating between going to law school vs med school, so anthro this is a good in-betweener. She gets a taste of science through her anatomy and kin courses; and lots of practice with reading and dissecting texts through the historical and cultural lectures. So, when the time comes to decide, she’ll have some experience with both.

Don’t know whether it’s confirmed that she’s (part) Japanese or not, but either way I headcanon that she speaks/spoke some second language at home. She wanted to delve more into it, and courses were offered at the university so why not?

Cultural studies courses end up being her favorite. She likes learning about the history of people and their cultures, and it encourages her to learn more about her own family history and culture. It also propels her to apply for a study abroad opportunity, so she spends at least one semester doing an exchange program and absolutely loves it.

She would also encourage you to apply and go, too. You guys might not be in the same program, but if there’s an applicable program in the same country she’s going to, then she’d definitely want you to apply. Spending the semester away with you would be a dream come true.

Hange — bioengineering + minor in political philosophy and law

It’s almost self-sabotage to be in an engineering program and have a minor; the coursework for engineering alone is backbreaking, and bioengineering has the added weight of human intricacies, but of course Hange makes it possible.

They’re nothing short of a genius, so of course they have time to work a completely unrelated minor into their schedule. It doesn’t surprise anyone that they go on to complete an MD-PhD after undergrad. Insane.

Bioengineering is essentially the synthesis of chemical engineering and health sciences; Hange spends their time exploring biological sciences and applies the engineering aspects of their coursework to their understanding of (and interest in creating) medicine. Truly a one of a kind mind.

They also have an interest in philosophy and justice, so when they found out they only needed a measly nine or ten courses to minor in, they went for it, of course. In honesty, they don’t find the studies all that opposing: both law making and medicine making both have some kind of philosophy or method to them in their eyes.

Hange has... little to no free time pls. They don’t mind it, because they love their coursework, but this means you are essentially ducking into their labs or scrambling to find them in-between their classes during your time in undergrad. They appreciate every second spent with you tho, and will gladly rope you into long discussions about their work.

Jean — biochemistry + minor in art sustainability

He was undeclared his first year, and took a little bit of everything: art, science, history, anthropology, english. Basically, anything that fit into his schedule. It was hard for him to pick one thing—he liked the science and lab applications of STEM courses, but not the math; and the obvious painting and creativity of art, but hated the pretentious air about art history.

What he wants to do is make a difference, which is how he ends up knowing that he wants to go to med school after, so he picks a science-heavy major, but uses his elective spaces to take art courses. When he mixes the two, he ends up on sustainability—and the complexities about it that are applicable to both science and art are what really reels him in.

Interdisciplinary studies end up being his forte. He can approach sustainability from a science perspective which impacts his art style and materials; and tuning into his creative side allows him to think about science not just from a purely clinical perspective, but from a human one, too—patients are people after all.

He believes that everything is connected somehow, even things as seemingly opposite as art and biochemistry. And he works towards finding the unique intersection where everything overlaps. His studies are pretty cool, and he’s very passionate about them, so ask him about it 😌

The art he makes is pretty sick, too, and often commentary about science; he’s proving they’re not so opposite. You also heavily influence his studies in both areas: caring about you so much inspires him to take the healthcare focus seriously, and your very nature is inspiration to his art.

Sasha — nursing

She’s friendly and good at working with people, so nursing was an easy choice for her. She accredits most of her motivation to being around her younger family members, and learns that she finds a simple kind of joy in helping to take care of others.

She struggles a bit her first year when it’s mostly all grades and standardized testing, but when she starts getting clinical experience and working in the hospital on campus, things round out for her.

Patient care is her strongest point. A lot of people often forget that knowing everything isn’t everything; if you don’t know how to calm or even just talk to your patient, you’re not that great of a healthcare professional.

Pretty certain that she wants to work with kids in the future, but she’s open to public health and even being a travel nurse if she finds opportunity there!

Of course, she’s pretty doting when it comes to you and all her friends. She might want to go into pediatrics, but the basics of nursing and health care extend to everyone, so you’re guaranteed to be well taken care of with Sasha around. You might even have to switch roles and take care of her sometimes, because her coursework can get pretty out of hand.

Connie — computer engineering with a focus on game design

He might not look it, but Connie has a brain under that shaved head of his. Computer engineering is cool to him because he basically learns about how simple things he uses every day (ie: phone, computer, microwave) works.

Systems and coding are actually the easy part for him, especially when they get into the application of it and aren’t just stuck looking at examples. That’s how he gets into game design.

The part about math and electricity and magnetic fields… well let’s just say he needed to make friends with someone who likes math and hardware his first year to get through it. But the struggle was worth it, because by his junior year he’s found a professor willing to mentor/supervise him as he works on his game and other projects, so life is good.

His school work is definitely hard, which is why the lives by the mantra of “work hard, party harder.” It’s only fair.

He makes you a little avatar so you can test out his games for him <33 best boyfriend things <33 He’d also… build a game about your relationship. Every level is a different date you guys went on, and he definitely includes something cheesy, like “There are unlimited lives because I love you forever babe <3”

Porco — kinesiology + maybe mechanical engineering

He’s pretty into athletics and working out, but didn’t wanna go down the sports psychology route; he wanted something that left him with a few more options, so he ended up in kinesiology.

He was surprisingly pretty good at biology in high school, so something stem-oriented works out in his favor, and it turns out he’s pretty damn good at anatomy, too. He’ll probably end up in physical therapy after graduation.

He’s also got a knack for cars, which is where the engineering comes in, but he doesn’t care so much for the math part of it (he doesn’t care for it at all actually, fuck that); he just wants the hands on experience of building/fixing things and working with his hands. So, if he can get a minor in it and not struggle through 4 years of math, then he’d do that. If not, he’d take a few workshop-like classes.

Because he wants to go into physical therapy, you are essentially his practice patient. Your back hurts? Not a problem, he’s basically a professional masseuse. Muscle aches? He’s got a remedy and understanding of why it’s happening. Don’t let him catch you hunting over your desk grinding away at your homework, because he will poke your neck and correct your posture (he’ll also massage your shoulders, but after the scolding).

Pieck — classics + minor in philosophy

Ancient studies interest her, but more than that, the language of ancient Greek and Roman culture fascinates her, so classics is the way to go.

Because her focus within Classics ends up being Greek and Latin language studies, she is essentially learning both languages at the same time. She gets farther with Latin that she does with Greek. For whatever reason, the former comes almost naturally to her, so her written and translated work is more complex in Latin.

However, she finds cultural studies relation to Greece more interesting than that of Rome, so it’s a give and take with both; better at languages for Roman studies, better at culture and history for Greek studies.

Her minor is a natural evolution from her primary coursework. Ancient Romans and Greeks set the foundation for a lot of modern day philosophy, so it comes up in her major classes, but she wanted to delve further into the philosophy, and not just look at it historically, so she takes more courses to fulfill the minor.

Can be found laying on a blanket in the quad on a hot day, with her books spread out all around her, highlighter in hand as she works through her reading. You’re always invited to sit with her, and more often than not, it ends up with Pieck’s head in your lap, a book in her hands, and your own schoolwork in yours as you both read in each other’s company.

Bertholdt — computer science and coding

He’s level headed, good at planning, and above all, patient, so he’s cut out for this. He doesn’t consider himself to be particularly creative, which is why he doesn’t pick a speciality with lots of design; but he’s good at streamlining and ideas to life.

The patience really comes in when his code doesn’t run. It’s frustrating to scroll for two hours just to find out that the issue is a missing semi-colon in line 273 that he overlooked, but Berty will sit there until he finds it.

He’s also good at fixing issues. That’s not limited to issues in the code itself; it can mean finding shorter ways to produce the same function or loop, or integrating new aspects into existing code.

Also, he’d just be so cute, coding away on his computer. Just imagine: Berty working on his homework in the library, he’s got his signature crewneck + collared shirt look going for him, his blue-light glasses, a cup of coffee nearly as tall as him sitting at the corner of his desk. Adorable.

He’d make little codes/programs for you, too, even if it’s silly. A simple code that helps you decide what to eat for dinner or where to go on a date, one that shuffles different reminders for you, hell he’ll even forgo the torture of design engineering just to build you a little robot that says “I love you” to you.

Reiner — english + minor in justice & political philosophy

Everyone expects Reiner, star quarterback of the university’s rugby team, to be a business student or communications student; but no, he’s an English major, and he loves it.

Just imagine a guy as huge as Reiner absolutely manhandling someone on the field, just to show up in his lectures with a tiny paperback of The Great Gatsby tucked between his fingers with his reading glasses on. It’s so precious.

He’s always running a bit late to class—either coming from the gym, or practice, or oversleeping from exhaustion—but he’s so sweet to his professors and genuinely interested in the literature that they don’t give him a hard time about it. They can tell that balancing school and sports is difficult, and they just appreciate that he takes his studies seriously.

Yeah he’s in a book club and he dog-ears his books. What about it. They’re doing poetry this month and Reiner actually likes Edgar Allen Poe. Who said jocks can’t be sentimental.

He also reads a lot outside of his classes, and has a soft spot for coming of age stories. He usually empathizes with the main character somehow. His ideal weekend plans after a week of grueling games and essays is taking a long, relaxing shower at your place, while you both share a bottle of wine, and maybe even get you to read a chapter or two of his current book out loud to him.

Annie — clinical psychology/neuroscience

Almost scarily analytical and methodic, so this major was calling her name. Localizing brain legions is… insanely intuitive to her it’s incredible. She’ll be an insanely impressive doctor someday, even if she doesn’t end up working with patients directly.

She doesn’t care too much for the more philosophical/reading heavy parts of psychology. Even experiments and research closer to the social end of the spectrum aren’t all that interesting to her; but the brain science behind it it.

Nobody should be good at cellular biology. Nobody should be able to ace cell bio and neuro and calc and work towards their thesis proposal in the same semester, but Annie proves it’s possible.

Ends up working in one of her professor’s labs by her junior year. She was offered three TA positions working with first year students, but she swiftly turned them down. Teaching isn’t her thing.

She doesn’t bring up her studies to you unprompted, but if you ask her about them she’ll explain it to you. Her notes are color coded and it’s super neat, and very cute; coloring them is somewhat relaxing for her. She usually saves the coloring part for when you guys study together; there’s extra comfort in doing it with you around.

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definitely-dreaming · 2 years ago

Text

on privilege

A little bit about my story, I was living out in Colorado when I switched apartments. I lost my job shortly before moving residences so I picked up a lesser-paying job than my original one that I had kept for three years at the city hospital. I became unable to pay my bills, and had to break my lease and put all of my stuff into a storage unit.

Fast forward, I moved back to the Midwest to live with my family. I’m indigenous to the Arctic Circle, and my mom is white. She was raised in one of the richest zip codes in the nation, and was so privileged that she did not think that not going to college was an option after high school. That’s how well-to-do her high school was. So anyway, I’ve moved back in with my mom and my little sister, and the tension is very high. I was accustomed to living by myself. I enjoyed living by myself. It was a blessing to be able to live in a big city and have my own apartment.

I had obtained my master’s degree but had to go back to work as a CNA. It was horrible. I spent a year working as a CNA so that I had could pay back credit card debt, pay back my lease, etc. And I was stuck doing nothing for the majority of the time. My life did not feel meaningful or good. It was miserable. So then I switched professions. I entered school to become a BCBA, and worked as a behavior technician for two companies. I held my one job for a year as a behavior technician, and it was part time. I spent most of my time on my phone. It was also miserable. It was not meaningful. So I realized that to actually care about what I was studying, I might as well go full time. And that brings me to my comments on privilege.

I had the opportunity to go back to grad school, to earn good grades, and to potentially set myself up for a career that earns $65k-75k a year. I had the privilege of working in the field and keeping a job that paid me $27 an hour to work with a kid whom I just mostly ran through basic questions with and sat on my phone for the entire time with. That brings about the need for attitude change. If I’m really going to pursue becoming a BCBA, I really need to make the switch into a serious mode of being involved with the clients that I’m working with. And honestly, having a master’s degree already that I wasn’t even using was a disgrace. I ended up getting a job as a social worker at a local nursing facility, and I’ve been here six months. I’ve had a lot of ups and downs. It makes me feel really afraid that I’m going to lose my job. Every day I’m afraid I’m going to go back to working as a CNA, wiping ass and never using my degree. I’ve held this job for six months, but I’m still scared of losing it. I’m constantly afraid of job insecurity. I depend on this job to save back up to move to Colorado. I’m planning on leaving in six months.

That brings me to privilege. I have the ability to pass as white, since I do look white, and I have my master’s degree. I am educated and well rounded, and I have a lot going for me in terms of my ambitions and drive. My housing is paid for (my family takes care of it, and I don’t pay anything) and that means a lot. I go to a nonprofit that supplies my food. I got a free car from the nonprofit because I needed it even though I make $45k a year. I definitely know that I’m privileged and acknowledge that privilege. It just feels like there could be more when I should just be satisfied with my job and feel good that I’ve kept it this long. Somehow it doesn’t feel like I’m getting compensated enough. But that’s privilege talking. Beggars can’t be choosers.

#privilege #white privilege #trauma #adversity #social work #mental health

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beespeaks · 3 years ago

Text

Just in case...

Stu Macher X Reader

Stu gets nervous before his party and decides to come see you in case anything goes wrong...

Aged up characters in college/uni

Tags: Swearing, mentions of murder, character death, basic Scream plot with added character and it’s in college though that’s not mentioned, Making out, angst

Warnings: mentions of murder/violence, major character death

——————————————————————————

You were laying in bed, book in hand, trying to process the day. Casey Becker and Steve Orth had been murdered the night before, and if you were being honest, that scared you. From what everyone had said at school and what you had heard on the news, it had been a pretty violent death too. You didn’t understand who could ever do something like that and why? What could have possibly possessed someone to do that? It wasn’t right.

You tried to push the thoughts away and focus on the book in your hands but you couldn’t shake the fear swirling in your belly. You were home alone and that just made it worse. You usually craved the nights your parents would go away and leave you alone, but tonight you wished there was someone else here with you.

Stu was having a party tonight, and he pointedly didn’t invite you which just made you feel worse. In fact, he went out of his way to uninvite you and tell you not to come. You weren’t sure why he didn’t want you there or what you had done to upset him, but you pretended you didn’t care, laughing it off like it was no big deal. You hated parties anyway.

A tapping on your bedroom window pulls you away from your thoughts and the neglected book in your hands. There was silence for a second as panic mounted in your gut and then you saw another flash against the window. Someone was throwing something at your window. The only person who ever did that was Stu. You hoped.

Shakily, you padded across the floor to the window and peaked out into the night. It was hard to make out anything much but when you saw another flash against the glass, you knew it was Stu. This flash was green. He was throwing Skittles again. When you had asked him why, he said they were more fun than pebbles.

You sigh and slide the cool glass up the frame and peer out just as a red Skittle goes flying past your head into your bedroom.

“Fuck!” Stu curses. “Sorry!” He stands on the pavement outside, a sheepish look on his face. He’s hunched in on himself, almost like he’s cold.

“Can I come in?” He calls, his voice sounds strange and yet it still comforts you just like it always has. You shut the window and run down to let him in, trudging back up the stairs before he even gets in the door and refusing to look at him. Just because you hadn’t planned on going to that party, doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck that he didn’t want you there.

Your bedroom is cold when you return and it feels smaller with Stu leaning against the doorframe behind you.

“Y/N.” Stu starts and you turn around to look at him. He looks conflicted and small somehow, even considering his tall frame. Something is definitely bothering him and you want to ask what it is. You don’t though, something tells you that you don’t want to know.

“Why wasn't I invited to your party?” You ask instead, you decide you can ask him about it tomorrow. Stu looks surprised by your question, it probably hadn’t occurred to him that it would bother you. Part of you thinks that’s sweet.

“You don't want to come. Trust me.” Something dark laces his words but you brush it off, choosing instead to let his words irritate you. You cross your arms over your chest and glare at him.

“How do you know? I might have wanted to.” Stu smiles slightly but his eyes still won’t meet yours, he keeps them trained on his shoes.

“It sucks. You would hate it.” He murmurs and you scoff.

“So, that’s why you’re here then, your party sucked so you thought you’d come and annoy me. How did you know I wouldn't have plans? I could have gone out tonight despite the curfew.” You almost yell. Stu is one of your best friends and there is defiantly something more there, but he always treated you like a second choice. A backup plan. He was always off with Tatum - his actual girlfriend, or Billy Loomis. The only times he ever had time for you was when no one else was around. You were sick of being a secret.

Stu sighs at your outburst and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I’m glad you were home.” He whispers. It’s quiet, you almost miss it but it changes something. All the anger and hurt you had been holding onto vanishes and you finally take a proper look at the blonde boy in front of you.

The usual loud, goofy idiot is quiet and he looks like he might break any second. He’s standing as close to the doorframe as he can, like he needs to it to hold himself up. His eyes are on anything but you and even from here you can see his breathing is uneven.

“Stu? What’s wrong?” Taking steps towards him, you reach your hand out and touch his shoulder. He flinches slightly before leaning into your touch. “Stu, look at me.” You keep your voice low and soft, like you're talking to a frightened animal. Shaking his head a few times he turns his head slowly to you. His blue eyes are scared and sad and something else that breaks your heart. Now that he’s finally looking at you, his resolve starts to crumble. You were always the one thing that could break down his defenses. You were the one person he never had to pretend with. You were his safe place.

“I’m scared, Y/N.” His voice breaks and then he’s crying, almost hysterically. Deep, laboured breathes and attempts to stop. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a hug as fast as you can, wanting to make him feel even a little better as soon as you can.

His arms wrap around you instantly, his face buried in your neck as he sobs. He’s shaking and digging his nails into your back but you don’t care. You have no idea what it is that could have him this upset. Stu has always been sensitive and he’ll cry at any sad movie the two of you watch, but even you’ve never seen him like this.

“It’s okay, Stu. It’s okay.” You whisper as you press a kiss to his temple. He doesn’t tell you, but this is all he needed. All he ever needed.

He does whisper something into the crook of your neck though. You don’t catch what it is until he pulls himself away from you to look into your eyes. He swears your eyes are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. His own eyes are still red and filled with tears.

“I love you.” He whispers and you gasp softly. If he had told you this any when else, you would have called bullshit and told him there were easier ways for him to get laid than fucking with your emotions. But the look in his eyes and the way he holds onto you like a lifeline, you can’t believe it’s a lie. You also can’t lie to him.

“I love you, too.”

His lips are on you before the words are even fully out of your mouth. A passionate, heated kiss filled with unspoken words and over a year of holding yourselves back. Your hands grip in his hair and his knead at your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. You cling to each other like you don’t need anything in the world as much as you need this, like he’s the oxygen you’ve been craving, like you’re the rain after the longest drought.

The two of you move backwards and fall down onto the bed, never letting go of each other. He’s on top of you now and his lips are traveling to your neck to leave open-mouthed kisses and whispers of ‘I love you’ over and over again. You whisper it back every time. Even if you don’t know why he’s falling apart, you know that’s what he needs to hear to keep him together.

Just as his lips are back on yours, softer and slower now but still as passionate as before, you hear a ringing. Stu pulls back and curses as he pulls a cellular telephone from his back pocket. He looks defeated and scared again.

He doesn't answer the phone, just switches it off and slips it in his back pocket with a sigh. You don’t know why, but you know he’s about to leave. Maybe it was Tatum. She is his girlfriend after all. The reminder pangs in your chest.

Stu’s blue eyes meet yours and you can’t find it in you to ask about Tatum or push him away like you should when he kisses you again. Softly and sadly. A kiss full of ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I love you’ and something that feels like goodbye.

He pulls back to rest his forehead against yours and just breathe in your familiar, comforting scent for a moment longer.

“I love you.” He whispers before getting up and leaving the room. He doesn’t look back.

When the phone rings in the middle of the night and your friend Randy recalls the events of Stu’s party, you collapse onto the floor as everything clicks into place in ways you really wish it wouldn’t. It felt like goodbye, because it was.

Stu Macher was dead and you were always going to think about the fact that you saw him last. You could have stopped him, if you had just asked him one more time if he was okay. Just one more time and he might have told you what was happening. One more time and he might still be here.

At least now you knew why you weren’t invited to his party.

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pitaparka · 4 years ago

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sex headcanons

note — NSFW. whelp. if anyone wanted proof of me being clinically insane, this is what you could show them. not only has all of my free time been devoted to watching anything with pedro pascal in it, this is also what i think about while watching these anythings. i know there are people out there who have loved him for longer and are even more obsessed than i, so i figured i would share my personal headcanons for the PPCU (pedro pascal cinematic universe, duh). big love for any fans of pedrito - nat

MANDO

- VIRGIN with a capital V

- did you see how he reacted when grogu touched his face? this man has not been touched since he was a child

- he grew up with the mandalorians but he was exposed to suggestive behaviors because, helloooo, bounty hunter

- you have to coax him into it, but it doesn't take much, since he plans on keeping you around long term

- plus, you're so good with the kid

- you provide him a safe space to explore both himself and also your body and he has no idea how lucky he is for it

- doesn't make very much noise, but loves to listen to you

- he won't last long, he’s so sensitive from years of going untouched, but this man's recovery time???

- unparalleled

- he also has the dick of a space porn star and doesn't know it

- but seriously, rice purity score is NOT lower than 90, and most of the boxes he checks are "running-from-the-police" related

- he really wants to be held and have someone run their hands through his hair and kiss his neck and hold his hands is that too much to ask???

EZRA

- his words are where he gets you

- who knew dirty talk could sound so elegant??? and poetic??

- what a tease he is, too

- he pants so heavily right in your ear holy sweet lord

- and loves to laugh during sex

- he doesn't take himself super seriously unless he gets super into it, which has been known to happen from time to time

- safe words have been used between you two, which there's no shame in, but he's so good to you afterward

- he loves aftercare, and being gentle and sweet after a rough session

- asks you what you want and makes you beg for it

- makes you feel like you're in control but really, he's the one in control

- will make you cum before he does

- kinky kinky boy, almost always willing to try what you want him to

- loves to pin you down, but after he loses his arm it becomes a bit harder, so he settles for holding you flush against his chest as you squirm in his strong grip

FRANKIE

- a little soft spoken, but will whisper in your ear in public because he knows it gets you riled up

- will stare you down from across the room with bedroom eyes

- he's got that pilot's precision if you know what i mean aha

- he's honest with you about what he likes and has no qualms about telling you up front

- gives off switch energy, but you're gonna have to really make it worth his while if you want to fuck him

- a very gentle touch, which he would love to be reciprocated

- he aches from years in the service, his back, his knees, his shoulders

- would probably drop dead if you gave him a massage as foreplay

WHISKEY

- what an arrogant piece of shit

- "gorgeous, darlin', sweetheart, sugar"

- he will butter you up like a roll on thanksgiving goddamn

- so straightforward, and very up in your face, but it got you to sleep with him the first time you met him, so you can't say it doesn't work

- not the best with his fingers, but dear lord that tongue does wonders when he's not talking

- is a man on a mission to please you

- will spend an absurd amount of time between your thighs, and loves to feel you try to push him away when you get oversensitive

- loves it when you get feisty

- pull his hair, bite down a little harder than usual, push him down onto the bed or forcefully unbuckle his pants and this man will be putty in your hands

- is SO LOUD, and expects the same from you

- doesn't understand that because you're not screaming to the heavens doesn't mean he's doing a bad job

- associates volume with pleasure which isn't always the case

- that's something you'll have to work on with him, but he's a patient man

JAVIER PEÑA

- keeps condoms and lube on hand at almost all times

- ohhhh boy is this man willing to go at it wherever, whenever, you name it

- will fuck you until he sweats, and keeps going afterward

- and will definitely do you right

- he fucks to feel in control, so good luck trying to take control with this one

- almost tries to distance himself from you at first, but really it scares him that he cares so much

- there's just something about orgasming at the same time as you that just makes his whole week, and your hole weak (ahaha)

- likes to fuck you from behind and fuck you roughly, hands both occupied at the same time, mouth on you, and dick inside you

- very hands on, but can be sweet afterward

- this man kisses like no other you've ever kissed before, he leaves you breathless

MARCUS MORENO

- leads by example wink wink

- will show you what he wants done to him, and is pretty vanilla, but in a good way

- is big on foreplay and also aftercare, probably one of the sweeter ones on the list

- he's almost methodical in his sex, very routine, but willing to deviate for you

- gentle, but deep, languid strokes

- thinks he's quieter than he actually is

- always has a lot on his mind, so he really appreciates it when you can ease some of his tension

- secretly was really experimental in college

- very attentive to your needs and likes to tease

- morning sex is his thing. when he gets home from a long day, he wants to eat and relax and sleep. but in the morning? before anyone is up and before breakfast is even being considered, he likes to wake you up with sweet bruises and roaming hands

MARCUS PIKE

- marcus is the type of man to respect your boundaries fully, keep copies of toys he knows you like at his house, and surprise you at work with flowers and a dirty quickie in the bathroom because you've wanted to try it so badly

- a more traditional way of thinking on sex, and semi-reluctant to do anything involving his ass, but will try it for you if you really want him to

- a very quick learner, this one, and incredibly intuitive

- what he lacks in skill he makes up for in enthusiasm

- it's almost like he can read your mind, when he uses just the right amount of pressure and uses just the right motion to make you cum for him

- you have no idea how anyone could give this up, let alone break his heart

- his favorite thing is having you ride him, your face buried in his neck as you grind your hips down as he whispers praise in your ear

- marcus isn't super kinky, but i'm sure you can convince him to try something new every once in a while

MAX PHILLIPS

- OFFICE. DESK. SEX.

- "a private word with you in my office, please."

- so very seductive. the hand on the small of your back gets you going and he knows it, but he'll have to be more subtle if he wants to keep you

- another one who will butter you up to get you to sleep with him. he's very obvious about it, so it may or may not work first time. regardless he's up for a challenge

- pays so much attention to your neck. you will have to invest in many turtlenecks if you want to be with max

- big on eye contact, except for the exception of fucking you senseless over his desk

- obviously, a vampire, so he's absolutely magic between your thighs

- is very personable with everyone else, mainly because he's a business major, but he LOVES to make you jealous, this man LIVES off of it

- will one hundred percent expect you to be putty in his arms immediately, and treats it as a competition if you aren't

- he WILL take it personally and will make it a personal goal of his to get you to like him and want to fuck him without using his powers

- a game of cat and mouse

- does not care at all about being loud in the workplace, but he likes to see you struggle to keep quiet, even if everyone else can hear you anyway

MAXWELL LORD

- has suCH a praise kink wow

- his favorite thing is to hear you moan and tell him he’s doing a good job

- a little more vanilla than his counterparts but does like to take control and be a little rough

- a switch sometimes, falls into ruts where he just wants someone to take care of him

- but he WILL NOT ASK FOR IT. his pride won't let him

- at first, he’s not as mindful of you as you’d like him to be

- his sex is fast and unpleasant with hands everywhere and mouths and teeth and touch

- so you sit him down, and show him what you like. very slow and sensual

- you take your time with him, and he eventually starts to do the same with you

OBERYN MARTELL

- remember din's rice purity score? yeah, oberyn's is maybe ten. which is pushing it

- when you meet him, he knows what he likes, and is very particular about it

- he's done his fair share of experimenting, but he's willing to try new things, if there's anything new to be tried

- takes control inside and outside the bedroom

- not afraid to show you your place

- he's the kinky one in the relationship, and he will let you explore his body all you want

- if he doesn't like it he will kindly redirect you, his hands on yours, stroking and tugging and redirecting pressure and placement so that you learn his body in and out

- loves to watch you with his girls and boys. what an exhibitionist this man is

- for most people, they have to choose between quantity or quality in their sex lives. oberyn martell is not most people

- he is a prince, and will not let you forget it, but likes it when you talk back and he has to punish you

PERO TOVAR

- the roughest one on the list, but not the kinkiest

- sex to him when he's at his worst is just a way for him to feel good and relieve stress

- when he's at his best, it's a way for him to make you scream his name

- very possessive about what's his, and if he has to show it in front of everyone else for them to know that he will do it

- this man fucks like a rabbit. how does he find the time??? nobody knows

- his libido is so high. you have no idea how he isn't absolutely spent at the end of a long day of fighting and training and wandering, but he'll fuck you where you lay if you let him and you're too tired to move

- once you accidentally walked in on him stroking himself, and the AUDACITY OF HIM

- he smirked, groaned, and asked you to help him out

- who could resist a man like that

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binxyu · 4 years ago

Text

Being the main writer for the college paper made it particularly hard for people not to be in your business because, well, you were in their’s. Thus, everyone in the school was aware of your relationship with Juyeon and Hyunjae. But, that doesn’t stop a flirty athlete from hitting on you.

>>Pairing: Lee Jaehyun x Lee Juyeon (doms) x fem!reader (sub) | athletes!jaehyun and juyeon x writer!reader

>>Word Count: 4.3k

>>Genre: Oneshot / Requested / Smut

>>Warnings/Kinks: Choking, creampie, cum eating, cum play, double penetration, exhibitionism/public sex, harassment (not from the boys), marking, oral (giving + receiving), possessiveness, praise, saliva, and unprotected sex

The reminder you had set on your phone was not enough to take your focus off the man in front of you.

Truth be told, you were quite forgetful for a person with such a tight schedule.

Writing on your hand was tried. It didn’t really work considering you washed your hands consistently throughout the day (damn the germs in colleges), smudging the ink to an unreadable blur on your hand.

Thankfully, that’s how you had met your boyfriends. Yeah, plural. There’s an s there.

You had been rushing towards an assignment you had been given for the paper. It was a request to interview some of the top students in the music department and damn late wasn’t even enough of a word to describe how long ago you were supposed to be there.

Showing up a couple hours late resulted in most of the students already gone, hiding away in their dorms for the afternoon.

But, there were two students still waiting for you. Lee Jaehyun (although he likes people to call him Hyunjae) and Lee Juyeon.

They were your saving grace for your paper and, in return, you let them take you out on a date.

Now, months later, your relationship with them still ran strong.

But, apparently your hearing didn’t because the reminder sound on your phone didn’t even register as you write down practically everything the athlete was telling you.

He actually was a classmate of your’s and a pretty popular one at that. The whole school practically knew about him.

“And that’s how I beat the record”, you nodded sweetly, keeping that signature interviewer smile on your face. It did a fantastic job of getting people to open up and this guy was no exception.

“So, one last question, are you dating anyone?”, you weren’t asking for yourself. Especially not when you were already quite... busy... with the two men you were already dating. It was more for the majority of the female population in the school who did like him.

Besides, everyone in the school knew about you and, more specifically, your polyamorous relationship. It wasn’t seen everyday to be fair. You three stuck out like a sore thumb.

“No, I haven’t really been looking”, bullshit. You had been to the football games, the man loved to rile up the crowd. He practically chucked his shirt into a girl’s face the other night when it was “too hot”.

It was just above 50 degrees that night.

“I see. Thank you for the interview”, you smiled and he nodded, smiling back at you before a lightbulb seemed to go off in his mind.

“Are you looking?”, he must have noticed the shocked expression you had because his hand encased your’s, seemingly trying to soothe you as his thumb traced the back of your hand.

All it did was make you more anxious.

“No, sorry, I’m not. I’m actually taken”, there goes that reminder again but you ignored it. It was probably just your reminder to take your gummy vitamins or something stupid the boys put in there because they cared. Maybe a little too much sometimes.

“Oh, by who?”, it wasn’t a curious question. He didn’t believe you. His tone said it.

“By us”, uh oh.

Turning around, you were met with your two lovers. They hovered over you like angry wolves and you could only feel like a little lamb underneath them.

The athlete had flirted with you before and that only made the situation more intense. Of course the football player knew about your relationship. It just didn’t seem to matter to him.

Until, well, now you guess.

“You didn’t come”, shit. So, that was the reminder?

You had a date with them after this interview and it completely flew out of your mind like a paper lost in the wind.

“Sorry, I lost track of time”, they nodded and, for a moment, you thought you saw their eyes soften as they look at you but they just returned back to those icy cold stares.

Even the muscular athlete was scared. Everyone knew how possessive your boyfriends were.

It was pretty obvious after a particularly ignorant party animal laid his drunk hands on you. Before he could do anything else, he was already thrown on the floor with Juyeon’s fist landing on his cheek while Hyunjae pulled you back into his chest like he was some kind of shield.

It was hot, you weren’t going to lie, but it did make you a little worried for people you truly did just want to be friends with.

“Hey, babies, let’s go. Let’s go have our date now”, you placed each of your hands on their chests. It was a gentle move that always seemed to calm them and you smiled as you felt their heartbeats slow down, your own starting to match theirs as you felt it through your hands.

“Fine but you”, Hyunjae pointed with precision at the man, “stay away from her. She doesn’t like you and she’s said no multiple times. She’s ours” the man finally nodded and ran off while you were stuck standing there with a wave of arousal shooting to your core.

Ignore it. You can’t be walking around with marks again-

The internal scold fell short as the boys wrapped you up in a hug. You could practically feel the warmth from their anger coming off of them in waves.

“Next time listen to your reminders. We set them for you for a reason”, Hyunjae scolded you, grabbing your phone to turn off the pesky sound. You really didn’t hear it. Maybe your hearing does need to be checked.

“I know I know. I’m forgetful”, you pout and the boys looked at it, wanting nothing more than to kiss your pouty lips until they’re swollen. Juyeon just chuckles instead and ruffles your hair sweetly.

It was such a sharp contrast to how cold he looked a minute ago but you were used to it. They were usually cold to others but were exceptionally sweet to you.

Well, most of the time.

“Come on, dory. We’ve got to get outside”, that’s always been Hyunjae’s favorite nickname for you. Sadly, you couldn’t argue that it didn’t suit you.

Sometimes you even forget what your name is.

“Okay”, you nodded and held their hands, walking securely in between them. You always did feel safe with your boyfriends and being without them was honestly terrifying. They were like your bodyguards.

Out in the beautiful field of the campus was a little picnic blanket, laid out with plenty of your favorite foods.

They always loved to spoil you and, while the sight in front of you wasn’t much of a surprise considering it was their favorite form of dates, it made you happy nonetheless.

“Aw, thank you boys”, you gave them both a peck on the cheek and sat down. You weren’t much for public displays of affection.

Hand holding? That was fine. It was their way of saying that you were their’s. But, the bigger things like kissing or hugging? That was more of a private thing for you.

Those were actions you did when the three of you could safely display your love for one another without being judged because, let’s be honest, you’re not much of the outgoing type.

Sure, you have to talk to lots of people for your writing, but that didn’t mean you liked to. You actually liked to keep to yourself.

It was odd considering Hyunjae and Juyeon were quite popular due to their singing skills. Everyone wanted them but they only had their eyes set on you.

They helped you sit down, filling up your plate with delicious treats that almost had you drooling. You just realized how hungry you were when your stomach let out the most obnoxious growl you had ever heard.

Okay- maybe you also forget to take care of yourself. When you’re busy the last thing on your mind is what your body wants. Just the task at hand is important.

“Dory, do we need to start setting reminders for food and stuff too?”, Hyunjae shook his head as Juyeon handed you the plate of food. You quickly shook your head back, taking a bite of the fruit sitting on the plate in your lap.

“No, I just got busy. I’m not too hungry”, Hyunjae looked at you with the most untrusting look. He knew you and he knew that you frequently “got busy” and that meant you frequently forgot to take those vitamins or to at least drink water.

As you ate, you started to circle the important details you had written down during the interview, making a clear note in your head to add those facts into the paper.

Sad thing was: the athlete barely gave you anything to work with. Most of it was just bragging or hitting on you.

“What an asshole”, you sighed and rested your forehead on Juyeon’s shoulder. He simply chuckled and started to run his fingers through your hair. You weren’t a saint by any means but cussing was rare. You found it to be a bad habit in public while you swore like a sailor in the safety of your bedroom.

“Frustrated?”, Hyunjae asked, rubbing your back with his large palm, working the knot he knew you had. They really did know your body so well.

“Yeah, he didn’t really give me anything to work with. Just flirting”, you didn’t mean to let the last part slip out. It was just what you thinking about and sometimes that filter in your brain was clogged with all the useless information you kept there.

“Maybe you could do your report on someone else?”, surprisingly, the response was calm and you had to let out a sigh of relief.

“Maybe. I’d have to ask”, you were the writer for the school but it didn’t mean you had free will. Everything had to be ran by someone else. Every decision.

“Alright, I’d feel much more comfortable if you didn��t have to talk to that guy again”, you nodded in agreement.

God forbid something go right because weeks later, after one failed attempt at switching stories, you were put on the athlete’s case once again. This time it was because he was the reason the school won against their rivals.

So, there you sat on the desk chair. You had just finished your journalism class and, ironically, the jerk was in the class with you. You both just agreed to do the interview in the classroom.

You had already told the boys about it and they promised to check in soon. You were worried but also thankful. Your gut had an awful feeling about this guy.

As you were reaching for your notepad and pen, a hand stopped you. It was wrapped around your wrist and you looked up in surprise to see the athlete’s eyes sparkling with mischief.

That can’t be good.

“Come on, no one has denied me before. Why won’t you go out with me?”, it made you scoff and you yanked your wrist from his cold, rubbing the red flesh with your other hand.

“Because I’m taken. So, drop it”, that seemed to strike a nerve. He looked furious and fear flowed through your body when he got up.

Before he could reach you, a hand gripped the collar of his shirt, lifting him up and throwing him out of the room. Juyeon rushed to you, gently wiping away tears with his thumbs.

Wait- you were crying? You hadn’t even noticed.

Hyunjae seemed to take the high road and just simply shut the door in the student’s face, locking him out.

They honestly rarely fought but when they did it was brutal. That’s why they tried to never do it in front of you.

“Are you okay? He didn’t touch you?”, you reassured him you were fine by letting him look you over, his eyes quickly looking over you as if you had some hidden life threatening injury.

After some time, you were already feeling better. The boys had made it their mission to make you laugh as much as possible in the classroom, doing silly dances and even tickling you. They just loved your laugh too much.

“Baby, I have an idea for your newspaper”, Hyunjae looked a little dazed. Well, more than dazed. You couldn’t blame him considering you had all been playing a game of cards and you sucked so fucking bad at it. Therefore, your little game of stripping if you lost resulting in the boys completely clothed while you sat there completely bare.

“And what is that?”, you shivered as the cold air hit your back. Juyeon pulled you in between his legs and wrapped his arms around you in an attempt to keep you warm. Plus, his hold was barely below your breasts and he truly did love those.

“Make it a smut”, you gasped when Hyunjae connected his lips with your’s harshly, a little more rough than usual. Then, it hit you, they held all that anger in just to use it on you.

While you would never actually write a smut for the school paper (unless you really wanted to be fired), you liked to idea of using it to rile them up. They loved your writing and, more specifically, the wonderful sex scenes you wrote.

Anytime you were busy, you’d write them one and then you’d be happy to oblige to their request to act it out when you got back to your dorm. Sometimes they were short scenes and sometimes they were long. Either way, the boys were happy to help you fulfill your fantasies.

The only difference today is that there is no prompt. They get to make up the story themselves.

“Do you want me to tell everyone how good you two fuck me? How well you stretch me out?”, just your words alone had Juyeon’s erection desperately trying to escape the confinement of his jeans. You could feel the bulge against your back and you watched as the wetness started to coat your thighs.

“Yes, tell everyone how good we make you feel”, you nodded in agreement and looked at the door, thankful that there was no windows uncovered in the room.

Finally, feeling safe, you turned around and started to unzip Juyeon’s jeans, pulling it down his legs along with his boxers. You simply tossed them, watching them land on the surface of one of the desks.

Hyunjae wasn’t far behind, removing his own clothes and doing a similar action to them, discarding them as if they were the trash beneath his feet.

“Turn around”, you nodded, turned your body back around and you immediately knew what he wanted. You leaned down to make yourself level with his cock, your eyes running over the veins and the angry red tip. Your ass was right where the man wanted it, high up in front of him.

Your lips wrapped around his shaft, running your tongue along the sides to coat it in your saliva. It always made the movements a bit easier. Juyeon groaned and dove his tongue down your slit, suckling at your clit once he reached it.

The moan you let out sent a vibration through his sensitive tip, causing his thighs to shake slightly. It was a beautiful sight.

Not forgetting about your other boyfriend, you looked up to make eye contact with Hyunjae. He licked his lips as he watched you practically gag on the large cock that belonged to Juyeon.

He was always a bit of a voyeur and, as much as he loved the sight, he couldn’t wait any longer. He sat on his knees next to you and moved his own cock closer to your mouth.

Hyunjae was bigger than Juyeon, stretching you out beyond belief but Juyeon was longer, hitting your cervix with every thrust. Both were a perfect mix of pleasure and pain. Different but well balanced.

You brought your head back, releasing Juyeon from your mouth and you replaced where your mouth had been with your hand, jerking the man off. A long string of saliva connected your mouth to his but you couldn’t care because Hyunjae’s dick was far too tempting to forget.

You wrapped your mouth around his cock now, feeling your jaw lock slightly from the sheer volume you had taken in. He was just as delicious as the previous one and you couldn’t help yourself from sucking him like he was your favorite lollipop. To be honest, he was.

Juyeon slipped a finger inside of your dripping cunt and you whimpered, listening to the sound of your pussy clenching around the digit, soaking it in your wetness.

“I think she can take both of us now”, you stopped for a moment, a little surprised. Sure, you three had discussed double penetration but you never really felt ready. Could you really handle that much?

Maybe you could.

“Let’s do it”, your words came out muffled since you were still infatuated with the taste of Hyunjae’s dick. The boys smirked at one another and Hyunjae gripped your hair to pull you off of him. Your hand instinctively let go of Juyeon’s dick too, missing the feeling of having something to play with.

You never liked to sit still but you knew you probably were going to have to after this session.

“Up here then, baby”, Hyunjae chuckled as you yelped, his arms under your body as he laid you across the desk. You winced when a pencil sharpener landed on the floor off the desk, probably breaking into pieces.

How had no one heard you before this? You had no idea.

Juyeon got up off the floor, rushing to Hyunjae’s side. Hyunjae held your thigh and pushed it open more, taking in the beautiful sight of your glistening pussy. It was his favorite work of art and Juyeon wanted nothing more than to continue the feast he was in the middle of.

“Alright, we’ll go one at a time, okay? If we need to stop then tell us. You okay with this still?”, Juyeon asked softly. Despite how cold they were, they still asked for permission and it was especially important now.

“I’m okay with it. I’ll tell you if you have to stop”, you nodded and looked up at the two. Fuck, you were so lucky.

They both had little stars in their eyes whenever they looked at you and it always reminded you that they were indeed your stars. Those little stars in their eyes only lit up when they looked at you.

Hyunjae decided to go first as the bigger of the two, gently easing his way into you. The stretch was slightly uncomfortable at first but no longer painful. You had adjusted to both of them rather quickly solo but together? That may be a bit harder.

Right when he brushed against that specific spot inside of you, you covered your mouth and moaned, gripping the edge of the desk.

Hyunjae watched you, smirking when he realized you were already becoming overwhelmed with pleasure. He loved watching you try to hold onto anything to keep your grounded to reality. He always seemed to bring you to cloud 9.

“All in. Now you’ll take Juyeon too, right? You’ll be a good girl and take him too?”, you nodded obediently and looked between your legs, noticing that Hyunjae had completely bottomed out inside of you. You already seemed so full, a bulge present in your stomach from where Hyunjae had settled.

Truly, no one could make you feel this good with so little effort but them.

Juyeon gripped your other thigh and pressed small kisses there, a gentle reminder that it was okay to stop him. That he loved you.

He sucked a few marks to the skin, making you whine because once they start they don’t stop. You’ll be covered in marks by the end of the hour.

Once you were spread wider, almost completely folded, Juyeon guided his cock in beside Hyunjae’s. Now, that hurt.

“Slower! Slower please”, Juyeon quickly nodded, noticing that your eyes were watering. He gently wiped them away and stayed still for a moment so you could get used to the stretch. When you nodded, he slowly moved again and you felt your vagina quickly adjust to the size. Like you were made to handle both.

And, now, you couldn’t stop moaning under your hand. It did very little to muffle the noises but it was your only hope of not getting caught.

Hyunjae was pressed against your g-spot as Juyeon had taken it upon himself to settle his tip against your cervix. And, inside of you, their cocks rubbed against each other in an unspoken competition to see who could go deeper.

Of course, Juyeon would win that category but that didn’t matter to Hyunjae.

Both watched their bulges in your stomach as one pulled out and pushed back in. Then, they started alternating until you were so stretched out that they could move together in perfect unison.

The sounds of skin slapping filled the room as they fucked you raw, sharing you in the most perfect way. Everything felt so good that you could already feel the knot forming in your stomach, begging to be released and coat their cocks in your cum.

“You like it, hm? Does it feel good?”, Juyeon teased as he watched your eyes roll back and your nails dig into the wood beneath you. You nodded but your love didn’t like that. He gripped your throat, squeezing it slightly right where he needed to.

The blissful feeling only became more unbearable as you felt some oxygen escape your throat. Tears spilled down your cheeks before he let go, allowing you to breathe.

“Yes! Fuck, I love it!”, the boys leaned down to suck marks all over your breasts, stomach, and hips. Still easy to hide but you knew that wasn’t going to last long.

Their hips snapped against your core as they moved, Hyunjae’s pelvis bone rubbing against your clit perfectly. It made your mouth hang open in a tiny scream and you couldn’t hold it anymore, squirting all over the two as you came.

You had never done that and you were scared that they would hate it but the bright smiles on their faces made you relax. It made you feel good and that’s all that mattered to them.

As the thrusts continued, you squirmed from the overstimulation and Juyeon had to pin you down by your wrists to keep you from falling off the desk.

Their movements became more sloppy and they came together, filling up your clenching cunt with their cum. You felt way too full with all of it and their cocks still inside of you, tapping Juyeon’s arm in a silent plea.

He understood and nodded at Hyunjae, the both of them pulling out to milk the rest of their orgasm’s on whatever they could find. Your thighs, clit, stomach, chest, arms, etc. You looked like the filthiest thing they’ve ever seen and they couldn’t be more proud.

Juyeon put his clothes back on and went out to grab a towel from the locker room as Hyunjae just stared at the cum spilling out of you and down the side of the unfortunate wooden desk.

He seemed to be deep in thought as you tried to breathe correctly, his finger entering your hole without warning and you looked down to see him pull it out. He looked you dead in the eye as he licked off the mixture of cream, humming happily when he found out he loved the taste.

“We taste delicious together”, he leaned down and held your ankles as he started to lap at the cum dripping out of you, eating it up like it was a five star meal. You shivered from the feeling of his warm muscle meeting your cold skin as he licked you clean, licking his lips every time he came up for air.

“How in the world am I going to write an article when that is in my head?”, you motioned to the sight of the cum dripping down his chin. His lips were swollen and his brown locks stuck to his forehead from the sweat. He looked ravishing.

“Smut”, he popped the m for emphasis and you shook your head, letting him kiss you so you could taste it too. It tasted like the best mixture of fruit and you found yourself diving your tongue in his mouth for more.

“Oh yeah, we definitely have to stay together if this is how good we taste”, you giggled and Juyeon had entered just in time to get a taste too. He kissed you, swirling his tongue inside of your mouth before he pulled away. He licked his lips and acted as if he was critiquing a meal.

“I’d have to give my thanks to the chef”, he joked and you smiled, letting out a little chuckle as you tried to sit up but your legs were not having it and neither were your boyfriends.

They rubbed your thighs as you laid back down, trying to ease the soreness in them. Juyeon kissed your hand lovingly and your heart swelled from all the love you felt for the two.

You had no doubt that they were really the ones you were going to spend your life with.

“Looks like the school newspaper is going to have to wait. Unless you feel like writing on a cum stained desk”, Hyunjae chuckled and you huffed, knowing that that paper was definitely not going to be done by its due date.

451 notes · View notes

whumperooni · 4 years ago

Note

Mr.Natsuo being your teacher and you purposely flirt with other boys as wear really short skirts in his class to make him ✨jealous ✨and horny , he asks to see you after class and you get fucked on his table 🥺🥺 Sorry I’m on my period and I’m going feral 😃

No, no- never apologize for this! It makes me feral too ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ Natsuo Sensei, please come get this pussy ♡

tags/warnings: teacher/student relationship, teacher kink, rough sex, unprotected sex, manipulation, improvised gags

A/N: I wrote Natsuo a bit more rough than I normally do, but I think it turned out okay;;; I also abused the words professor, doctor, sensei, and teacher;;;;

But. Ya know.

Enjoy! ♡

You were fucked the moment you walked into his classroom. Introduction to Human Anatomy and Physiology. 2:30 pm, Tuesdays and Thursdays. Led by Doctor Natsuo Todoroki. An insert into your schedule that seemed harmless enough. Interesting, surely. Something you were a little worried about- what if you turned out squeamish despite your love for all things horror and gore?- and something that would just fill your first semester of college. Harmless. Routine for your major. Nothing to give you any sort of fuss or throw you into a flustered little mess. Or, so you thought. Honestly, you hadn’t given much thought to what your professor might be like. You were more worried over having to share a dorm room with a stranger, if you could handle your class load, how hard it might be to adjust being away from home and all you’ve ever known. You suppose your mind’s eye might have conjured a vague image of a wrinkled and wizened old man with a stern gaze and whitened hair. You suppose you might have faintly imagined Doctor Todoroki to be a tired geezer in a lab coat and faded sweater vest. You suppose you might have had the predetermined, unconscious notion that your professor would be intelligent, elderly, stern and, well, someone who you would only think about in terms of being someone to give you tests and homework and lectures. You didn’t think that you would walk into the room to find a smiling, young man with a handsome face and thick thighs, big arms. You didn’t think that you would walk into the room to lock eyes with your professor and immediately go weak in the knees under a stormy gaze and a sunshine smile. You didn’t think that you would walk into the room to only have your breath snatched away, your cheeks flared with a flush, your heart forced into a thundering staccato. You didn’t think that Doctor Todoroki would be hot. But, oh god- oh god- he’s gorgeous. Doctor Todoroki- well, Doctor Natsuo or even professor; he seems to prefer those much more than his family name- is, honestly, a living, breathing wet dream. He’s hot. He’s kind. He’s friendly. He’s funny. He’s perfect. The class that you thought would be only mildly interesting turns out to be your favorite. How could it not be when you’re blessed with a full hour of delicious eye candy, a teacher that’s so generous with his praise and has your spine tingling whenever he says your name? He’s so friendly and he’s so polite, too. The way he calls you Miss is a little old fashioned, sure, but it sends your mind reeling and your cheeks flushing- quick fantasies zipping through your thoughts as your thighs involuntarily push together. Your crush springs up from the moment you see him and it only gets stronger with each passing day. Little accidental brushes against you, the smiles he sends your way, the scent of his cologne whenever he leans over your table to correct an answer, the way his praise rings in your ears late at night- it all sends you spiraling. You’ve never had a crush quite like this before. Certainly not on a teacher. You want him, though. Oh, god, do you want him. Your roommate is the unfortunate one that has to hear you whine and moan over him- you’re much too embarrassed to admit your crush to your friends back home or any of your family; they’d be sure to scold you, to call you foolish and chide that you’re a silly little girl. She understands it, at least. That helps, keeps you from being too ashamed. “I mean, it’s no surprise you’ve got a thing for him,” she muses. “He’s young. He’s hot. Anyone would get a little crush.” You don’t like that thought, really. You don’t want to think about others lusting after your sensei. “Why not try shooting your shot?” At your scandalized look, she huffs and shrugs, rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on,” she scoffs. “No need to be such a good girl. Professors hook up with their students all the time. You just gotta be discreet.” “I can’t,” you protest- shaking your head and pulling your knees up to your chest. “And it’s not like he- he doesn’t see me in that kind of way.” “You don’t know that,” she counters with a click of her tongue. Another huff leaves her and it’s easy to see that her patience with the situation is waning. “Either feel it out or get over it or find someone else to moon over. There’s no point in moping and stewing.” You’re not moping. You’re just- you’re just- Okay, you’re mooning over him like she said. But you’re not moping. It’s just- it’s such a new situation for you. You’ve always had crushes on your peers- never anyone older than you by more than a year or two, never anyone in a position of authority over you. A taboo situation like this has never been your cup of tea- you’ve always been a good, sensible girl. Crushes on teachers have never been something you thought to entertain. But now? Well, now... You bite your lip and eye your reflection, nervously touch up your makeup in the bathroom mirror. It’s light and simple but pretty and sweet. Stalking Professor Natsuo’s social medias helped you gain the insight that he seems to prefer his women more natural and cute, innocent looking- all glossy lips and doe eyed, fluttering lashes with just the barest hint of mascara and blush. The false lashes might be a bit too much, but they make you look even more doll like and, that too, is something he seems to like. Pretty. Simple. Doll like. Sweet. Young. You think you’ve managed to put that look together rather nicely. The pleated skirt- just shy of rising above your knees- and the soft cardigan help, too, and, really, you don’t think you’ve ever looked quite so innocent before- even when you were a wide eyed, straight A, pure and untouched student back in high school. ...god, what are you doing? A groan leaves you and you nearly scrub the makeup from your face, nearly rip off the skirt and switch it out for the leggings you have stuffed inside your backpack. Nearly. You don’t think that this is really going to work. You don’t think that this is really going to draw any sort of reaction from him. And, well, maybe that’s what you need? Maybe you need to truly see that it’s a fruitless desire- maybe then it’ll shrivel up and away and you’ll be free from your sinful fantasies, free from the desire that has your head spinning. And, well, it’s been a while since you’ve dressed up a little, too- the rigors of college have had you leaning more toward comfort than style, have kept you too tired and busy to give time to makeup and skirts and a polished appearance. It feels kind of nice being all cute and attractive instead of frumpy and disheveled. ...you’re not going to change. You deserve to feel nice and you’re dying- desperate- to see how your professor will react to you looking nicer than the tired lump you usually display. Just act normal, you tell yourself as you head toward the class- clutching your textbooks tight to your chest. Don’t be too hopeful. Don’t be too excited. Don’t get disappointed. Just- just think of it as an experiment. That’s all it is, right? Just an experiment! You’re just putting a hypothesis to a test! (What a load of crap. It does help to calm your fluttering, nervous heart, though) You swallow as you approach the room and take a deep breath to steady yourself, bite your lip as you eye the open door. You can hear him rustling around and you know that the others will be around soon- you can’t just keep standing there like a dumbstruck, coltish fool. Another swallow, another deep breath. You walk into the room and fix a nervous smile on your face, chirp out a nearly stuttered “Good afternoon, Professor.” He’s faced away from you- broad back greeting your vision as he scrawls something across the blackboard. His head turns, though, and you get to hear an absent “good afternoon” replied back, you get to watch his gaze fall on you. His hand pauses. His snowy lashes blink once, twice, three times. Surprise flickers over his face- evident enough that you can catch it without doubt. His eyes flick down and back up so quickly that you almost miss it, dart away whenever your smile shrugs off its nervousness and grows ever so sweetly. You sit yourself down front and center- right in front of your sensei’s desk. He doesn’t look back at you as you organize your books and gear. He doesn’t look back at you as you primly cross your ankles and rest them to the side, drag a curious, studious gaze along his back. You had hoped for a response, but you hadn’t really expected it- Professor Natsuo has been kinder and more friendly and open than your other teachers, yes, but he’s still been professional. He’s never crossed any boundaries and you’ve never see him give another student the once over. This is...promising. Your cheeks stay flushed as the other students file in, but your anxiousness is gone away. Sure, that little look doesn’t really mean anything but now you’re...well. Now you’re curious. Desperate and needy for some validation of your silly little fantasies, but curious too. Could you...would he...? You wet your lips, unthinking, and keep your eyes on Doctor Natsuo throughout the class- analyzing his behavior, absorbing his words, taking in how his gaze finds you a bit more often than it usually does. Interesting. Encouraging. The next day you wear a skirt that’s a little bit shorter, don sweet mary janes and ankle socks decorated in lacy frills. Steel grey eyes dart to your legs more than once during the class and you even catch your professor tracing his eyes over your hips when he thinks you’re not looking- his reflection in the shining convex mirror hanging above your dissection table showing guilt, an almost nervous tilt to his lips. Oh, you’ve got him. But how do you proceed...? Your worries and frets and protests over taboo desires are long gone- they got dashed away with the first blink of his long lashes, with the first glance over he had given you. Really, you should feel ashamed over discarding your morals so easily, but it’s an exciting situation, isn’t it? It’s nothing you would ever think to find yourself in. But college is all about new, exciting situations, right? It’s about taking chances. God, you hope this is really a chance for you- you’ve never had the opportunity to play a coy game like this before. It’s...fun. High school would have been a lot more interesting if you had known this kind of thrill. You come home smiling ear to ear after a successful attempt at making Doctor Natsuo blush. (A sway of your hips, a flit of your slowly shortening skirts, a coo of his name as you thanked him for such an interesting lesson, a sweet smile and your fingers daring to skim ever so lightly and quickly over his wrist as you walked out of the classroom) The smile on your face has your roommate’s brow quirking, but one look at your outfit has her lips pulling into a smirk- something near gloating on her face. “You shooting your shot?” she asks, already knowing the answer. “Something like that.” You plop down on your bed, smile waning but still present- content as you let yourself get comfortable. She doesn’t offer any more conversation and you’re okay with that- mind fixating instead on how you could possibly further things with your sought after teacher. Things are good, for now- much better than you had ever thought they would be. The little forays into flirtation have been fun, exciting and they’ve even helped boost your confidence- something you hadn’t realized was sorely needed. It’s been fun. And it stays fun- the short skirts, the girly lilt you find yourself injecting into your voice, the soft makeup and sweet perfume, the way you always leave the class with wet panties and a vibrating exciting buzzing through you, the way your teacher’s eyes can’t help but dart over you, the way he breathes in just a bit deep when you get a little too close, the way he swallows whenever you so lightly purr his name- it all stays fun. Fun, but...frustrating. After a while it gets frustrating. Because he doesn’t do anything, not really. He stays a proper, good teacher- something you give props to him for- and he never returns your gentle flirtations, the subtle and silent invitations you push his way. He’s so...professional. It’s kind of a turn on- kind of. It’s mostly just...frustrating. You find your lips dipping into a pout more and more, find yourself sulky and downtrodden. Sure, this has been fun and interesting but you...you want more. You want him. You need him. You’ve needed him for so long it seems. You find your muffled ministrations in the shower getting more and more frantic- your fingers pumping into your cunt relentlessly but giving you none of the relief you seek. When you are able to cum, it’s always with a whimper of sensei or doctor or professor- sometimes even a daring Natsuo. You get restless and impatient, desperate and a little hopeless. If your teacher senses or sees that, he doesn’t say anything- in fact, his gaze seems to avert from the feverish look in your eyes, he seems to pull away from your bold, reckless attempts to get closer to him. That hurts. That makes you angry. That makes you feel stupid. But he still wants you- or, at least, he still finds you tempting. You know he does- he can’t hide the way his eyes fall on you whenever you walk into the room, he can’t hide the quick glances he lays over you when he thinks no one else can see. You see his hesitance and want. You see it. ...if he’s not going to act on his desires, if he’s going to resist, then you’re going to kick things up a notch- someone has to; you can’t live with this stalemate any longer. It’s not a punishment, not really- it’s just throwing in his face what he’s missing out on. (My, whenever did you become so reckless and cruel? When did you become so desperate?) The ratio of boys to girls in the class is quite staggering- something one would think the university wouldn’t allow for fear of lawsuits. There are three boys for each girl- ambitious, studious, virginal, frantically horny things with expectations piled high on their shoulders and stress wracking their every thoughts. (It wouldn’t be unfair to say they you’re just like them- just sans the virginal part, double the stressed and horny part to make up for it) They’re good boys, for the most part- friendly and tired, nice but none of them quite to your taste or striking enough to jar your fixation from your sensei. Some of them are even handsome- which makes this a lot easier. “Oh, you brought me coffee? Thank you so much, Dai-chan! You’re so sweet!” The kiss you lay upon your classmate’s cheek makes him blush and fluster. It also makes your dear teacher stare- eyes wide and brow furrowed when you flick your gaze his way, his lips twitching as if he’s not sure if he wants to frown or not. The soft giggle you let out does bring a frown- something that deepens whenever one of the other boys comes over to grab your attention, try his hand. You should have thought of using them earlier on- they’ve been eager enough to try to flirt this whole time. Doctor Natsuo, for his part, doesn’t say or do anything- of course he doesn’t. But his usually happy temperament turns a bit tense, a little sour. He doesn’t lash out, not really, but you can see the way his teeth grit and his brow puckers whenever one of the boys dares to lay their hand on your arm, the small of your back. Good, you think- vicious and bitter, sour yourself. Get jealous. “What the fuck is up with Todoroki lately?” “Dude, did you hear how he snapped at Araka?” “Do you think something happened? He seems...stressed.” Your classmates trade hushed whispers as they flee the room, but you don’t think to join them- you stay quiet and soak in their quiet gossip, smile sharply without a look back to your grimacing, frustrated sensei. Just a little more. At this point, you’re not even sure what you want from him- an admittance of his own desires, him hurting and annoyed? You don’t know. You just want something to happen- you need something to break this little silent game apart. You think and think and think over what could raise the situation to the breaking point and, finally, you settle on something simple. The night before your Thursday class, you invite over one of your classmates- Eita; one of the more attractive ones, one of the less nervous ones. Your roommate is gracious enough to stay away (thanks to your offer of money for booze and weed and help with her homework) and you have the room all to yourself. Three beers and some easy flirtations, just a few small touches- that’s all it takes to get what you’re after. You don’t let him fuck you- he’s not worth it, nowhere near what you want- but you let him fumble his hands over you, are kind enough to wrap your hand around his cock while his lips frantically roam and suck over your neck. You don’t let him come until you’re absolutely sure that you have what you want. It reduces him to a whining mess- which, hey, is honestly kind of cute. You rebuff his sweet offers to “return the favor” and send him off with a kiss to the cheek, spend the rest of your night nursing a glass of wine and silently brooding- mind tired and body exhausted, your desires so restless. The next day you dress in a pleated, short skirt that just barely skims the middle of your thighs and fix your hair into a cute little updo, don your now signature mary janes and pull on a brand new pair of knee high socks. The sly comments you get throughout the day are annoying, but easily ignored. You’re impatient through the morning and it only gets worse as Doctor Natsuo’s class creeps closer. You spend the day jittering your leg and biting your lip, checking your phone every few moments and huffing to yourself, clutching at your arms and trying not to pace up and down the school’s halls. Finally- finally- it’s time for your favorite class. You have to force yourself to walk slowly toward it. You have to breathe in deep to quiet your pounding heart, to still your trembling hands. This has to spur something on. You walk into the classroom- skirt swaying, lips hiding your anticipation behind a smile. You ignore Professor Natsuo and make your way to Eita’s desk, plant your elbows on it and rest your chin in your hand, arch your hips up so your teacher can be teased by the sight of your soft thighs and curves, taunted by how just an inch or two of fabric prevents your panties from being flashed. (Is he looking? He has to be looking. He better be looking.) “Eita-kun,” you coo, sweet and loud enough for others to hear, “I had such a good time last night. We should do it again.” Eita’s eyes widen and his cheeks flush. You might enjoy it if you weren’t so distracted by the noise of a coffee cup slamming down and clattering on the desk behind you, if your breathing didn’t hitch so sharply at the fault in your sensei’s composure. Slowly, you straighten yourself to standing and turn around. Professor Natsuo’s face is red and flustered- jealous- when you look and his eyes are narrowed at you, his coffee spilled on the desk. You offer him a sweet blink and a sweeter smile, tilt your head so he can see the blossomed bruise tinting your throat pewter and mauve, a stormy and swirling blue. His eyes widen, his gaze darts behind you. Your smile grows. How do you like that, sensei? Your hands tremble just a little- from nerves, from excitement, from aching anticipation- and you clasp them behind your back to hide them from his gaze, lean forward and peer over his desk. “Are you okay, sir?” you ask him- chirping and so very sweet. “Do you need help cleaning that up?” He stares at you- disbelieving and still so evident in his shock, his envy. Some strangled noise chokes its way up and out of his throat whenever you flutter your lashes his way and smug amusement gathers in you as you watch his jaw tighten, his teeth grit as he tries to gather his composure once more. “No. Sit.” Oh. You’ve never heard him sound like that before. So authoritative, so stern. So hot. It’s your turn to let out a noise- something soft and almost curious, accompanied by flushed cheeks. You obey your teacher and sit down without a fuss- thighs pressing together and already growing damp, lip bitten and eyes half-shut as you watch him silently clean up the coffee. He doesn’t look at you throughout the whole lesson. He doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t call on you. He doesn’t smile or laugh or joke around. He’s...cold throughout the class- words iced over and posture rigid, his face holding no warmth at all. You gulp as you listen to him lecture and squirm in your seat- nerves starting to gather and grow despite the way you’re still so very wet between your thighs. You had wanted something to happen. You were determined to force anything to happen. But maybe- maybe you miscalculated. Maybe you fucked up. It’s something of a relief when the class ends. Usually, you like to linger for a few moments, like to stay just a bit longer than necessary so you can grab your teacher’s attention with a question or some sort of compliment over the lesson. Today, though? Today you shoot up from your seat without delay, begin to gather all your supplies as quickly as you can. At least...at least until he says your name. It’s firm, just a little icy. You stiffen at the sound and gulp, look back at him with wide eyes and a nervous smile. Before hearing your name part from your teacher’s lips would send you flying high, but right now...right now your skin is tingling with a giddy apprehension, your fingertips are trembling as you search his face for any hint of what’s to come. “I need to have a word with you,” Doctor Natsuo tells you- eyes boring into yours and keeping you frozen where you stand. “I, um,” you try to weakly protest, “I have to get to my next class...” “It won’t take long.” If he catches your wince, he doesn’t react to it. Professor Natsuo simply leans against his desk as the rest of the students file out- arms folded over his chest, sleeves rolled up to display thick forearms. And you? You stay rooted to the spot- heart pounding and eyes still wide, cheeks flushed and thighs damp. When the last student leaves, Professor Natsuo walks over to the door and closes it shut. Click. W-Wait- did he just- “D-Doctor Natsuo?” you squeak out. “What are you- what are you doing?” “I think I should be asking that question.” Oh, shit. Your teacher turns around slowly and the look he gives you takes your breath away. He looks angry and frustrated. He looks pissed. Pissed, but there’s- there’s something more- there’s- “What-” He takes a step toward you, you take a step back. “- do you think you’re doing, young lady?” The whimper that leaves you is equal parts anxious and needy- soft and unwanted. You probably shouldn’t find the growl in his words so hot. Your knees probably shouldn’t knock together and your pussy shouldn’t throb at the snap of young lady. But it’s- you didn’t expect him to be like this. But you- it’s- A tremble wracks through you and Professor Natsuo takes another step toward you. You bump against his desk whenever you stumble back and flinch at the wood that slams into your lower back, gasp and whimper once more when big hands fall to the table on both your sides, when your teacher brackets your trembling form and keeps you enclosed and captive. His eyes are narrowed. His cheeks are flushed. His cologne smells so nice up close, his height has your lashes fluttering and your breathing shuddering as you’re forced to tilt your head back to look up at him with wide eyes. “S- Sir?” “Don’t sir me,” he snaps, crowding closer to you. “I’ve lost my patience with you playing coy.” He’s lost his patience? Your mouth opens to shoot off something probably very stupid, but the words die as a big, cool hand finds your throat and forces your head to a tilt. The touch is beyond expected, has you crying out softly and gripping onto his shirt, almost hyperventilating. The pin prick retraction of your pupils is dramatic and so is your whimpering exhales but, god, this is not what you had expected. “You’ve been toying with me for weeks now,” Doctor Natsuo growls out, his fingers digging into the hickey on your neck. “All your short skirts and little touches, your shameless flirtations- you’ve been trying to drive me mad, haven’t you?” “Pr- Professor,” you whimper out, thighs rubbing together and a moan threatening to sound. “I just- I just wanted-” “You just wanted some attention,” he huffs out- his other hand gripping at your waist and his knee knocking your legs apart. “You wanted to see what would break me, right? That’s why you came in flaunting this today.” Your teacher’s thigh slots between yours and his fingers push deeper into your bruised flesh, his stormy eyes narrow and take in the way you shudder, how your cheeks flush even darker and your eyes start to turn just a bit glossy. A mewl leaves you- embarrassing and so needy, so helpless- and you whine softly after, try to turn your head away so he can’t see the way all your bravado and confidence is melting away into your selfish, needy, hopeless desires. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he demands- forcing your face back to him. He doesn’t look angry now- just frustrated- and your stuttered little gasp only makes his teeth grit, the way your thighs squeeze his makes his breath in sharp and deep. “Go on- tell me.” You- you can’t. You can’t deny him, can’t lie. Not now that things have finally boiled over, not now that he’s finally confronting you. Not now that you’re about to come just from the feeling of his thigh pressing against your soaked cunt. Not now that you’re so close to moaning and falling into a pleading, begging thing. “I- I had to,” you whine. “You weren’t- you wouldn’t-” “Tch.” The grip on your neck tightens and leaves you whimpering, leaves your fingers curling even tighter into your teacher’s shirt. “I was trying to be a good teacher,” Professor Natsuo grits out. “I was trying to keep from taking advantage of you.” Take advantage of you? You would laugh if it weren’t for your wettening lashes, the way your hips are aching and tightening from trying not to grind over your sensei’s thigh. “Sensei-” “Did you fuck him?” he interrupts- fingers dragging over your hickey and hand gripping your hip tighter, pulling you closer and making you whimper, tremble as your cunt is made to glide over his leg. “Don’t tell me after all this time you settled for a boy like that?” You shake your head the best you can- almost frantic with it, flushed and vaguely angry he would even insinuate that you would hook up with someone after you’ve put in so much effort toward him. “N- No! I wanted- I didn’t want- didn’t want him,” you whine, hips jerking despite yourself, a mewl leaving you whenever your teacher’s breath catches. “Sensei, please-” “Fuck.” The groan that leaves him has your lashes fluttering, your lips parting with a soft whine. The hand on your neck moves to your scalp and buries thick fingers in your hair, messes up your updo and sends your hairtie flying. He ignores the protesting noise that leaves you and looks down at you instead- eyes dark with a need that mirrors your own, nostrils flaring as his breathing turns heavy. “You are so naughty,” Doctor Natsuo growls- one hand curling his fingers into your hair, the other smoothing down your waist and to your spread legs. “Filthy little thing.” Filthy? You’re not- you’re not- The hand at your waist moves to loosen his tie and you whimper when he pops open his top button, when he shifts his hips forward and you feel his cock hard on your thigh. “Pl- please, sensei,” you breathe out in a beg- unplanned and so thoughtless, even overwhelmed. “I- I’ll be good! I won’t tell! I just want- I need-” You cut yourself off with a whine and rock against his thigh, look up at him with your wet lashes and flushed cheeks. He groans whenever you whimper and you clutch at him tighter, try to press against him. “I need you, sensei,” you plead- so soft and so desperate. “I need you. I- I promise I’ll be good. I just- I just-” You whimper once more and he groans, grips your waist and sits you on the table rough enough to make all his pens rattle and shake. He slots himself between your spread legs and buries his fingers back into your hair, presses his mouth against yours so fast and hard that it makes your whole world screech to a screaming halt. Your eyes widen and then slam shut, your body goes limp as you whimper and tremble from the way his tongue traces over your bottom lip. You allow your mouth to open and your teacher groans over it, slips his tongue inside and forces you to bend back as he presses closer toward you. Whenever he pulls his head back from yours, there’s a glistening of spit on his lips, a flush to his cheeks. You squirm under his gaze- suddenly so shy, suddenly so flustered- and whine as he stares down at you, arch your back and gasp whenever he forces your head to the side once more and presses his lips to your throat. It hurts when his teeth dig into the already tender, bruised flesh but it sends your mind reeling, has you mewling and reaching to scratch at his back. “Y- Yes! Please! Cover it! Make that mark yours!” The words fly out fast and without any thought, the begging comes from a place you didn’t realize existed within you. You don’t even realize that you mewled such a thing out until your teacher is groaning against your neck, until he’s muttering a, “Fuck- that’s a good girl” right against your throat. If you weren’t so swept up in the situation, you might feel embarrassed. But, you’re not- you’re just gasping and flushed and made even more needy from the praise, from the way your sensei’s hands drag down your sides to grip your waist. Tears blur your vision and a stuttered breath has you shaking, your nails digging deep into soft fabric and clawing over a broad back. “Doctor Natsuo please!” Another groan from your teacher and his hand slips under your skirt, his fingers push your soaked panties to the side and dip into your sopping cunt. “Fuck, you’re wet,” he growls, curling two thick digits and making you cry out. “Hey- shh, shh. Be good. You promised you were going to be good.” Be good? Oh, fuck, you wanna be good. You bite your lip as your teacher fucks his fingers deep inside you and try so, so, so hard to stay nice and quiet and good. He watches you as you try to muffle your whimper behind your hand and you shake from the way he licks his lips, from the way his lashes lower and his gaze turns approving. “That’s it, baby,” he mumbles. “Good girl. Fuck- turn over.” Professor Natsuo backs away and you can’t quite bite back your whine whenever his fingers leave, can’t quite inject any gracefulness in the way you scramble to comply. He yanks you back whenever you’re on your stomach- has your knees knocking against his desk and your hips arching up. There’s no warning when he grabs the plush flesh of your ass and spreads your cheeks wide. Your face flushes and a soft noise leaves you, your thighs press together as you squirm and whimper. “Cute,” he murmurs, squeezing your butt roughly. “Even better than I imagined.” Imagined? Oh- oh. He- he thought of you. He fantasized about you. Sensei- sensei got off to you. Your cunny clenches and your teacher groans- low and deep and accompanied by the sound of a zipper being pulled down. When you look back over your shoulder at him, his fingers are undoing his tie and you’re left blinking in confusion as he wraps each end around his palms. “Professor...?” “Open your mouth.” You do so without hesitation- lips falling open and fingers curling against the wood of the desk. Professor Natsuo slips his tie between your lips and you whine as it digs into your cheeks, shudder whenever he gives it a tight tug. “Now be a good student for your sensei,” he instructs, gathering the tie in one hand and pulling out his cock with the other. “Quiet and good.” You nod the best you can, but it’s a promise you can’t quite keep whenever his cock nestles between your cunt’s lips, whenever the tip eases into your hole and then slams fully in. You cry out- spit wetting your teacher’s silk tie and his hand laying heavy across your ass, your head getting yanked back whenever he jerks on the tie. “What did I say?” He said- he said to be quiet and good. You have to be quiet and good. A muffled whimper leaves you and you rock your hips back, squeeze around your sensei’s cock with the softest little whine. He groans and his hips pap against you, his dick drives in deep enough to have your toes curling and your lashes fluttering. He’s- he’s big. Bigger than you thought he’d be. Bigger than you dared to imagine. The stretch is- it’s so much. But you’re so wet. You’re so needy. Tiny, strangled whimpers leave you as your professor falls into a rhythm and you shudder, do your best to fuck your hips back against him. That stops whenever he grips your waist with a grunt and you whine softly, still and let your teacher fuck you how he pleases. You take it and you love it, get pushed close to orgasm faster than ever before. You almost collapse when you come on his cock and you hiccup out a whine of pleasure, a muffled mewl of his name. Doctor Natsuo groans as your gummy insides spasm around him and his grip becomes bruising, his rocks get faster- harder. Feels so good! Feels so good! Sensei’s dick feels so good! “Shen- shensay!” “Oh, fuck- god- you’re so tight, baby. Good girl- you like sensei’s cock deep inside you? Is this what you wanted?” You whimper and nod- cheek scrubbing against the desk, cunt gripping his cock like a vice. He grunts and grabs onto your hips, forces your head up and back as the tie drags you and forces your back to arch in a tight, painful angle. Still feels good, though. Still feels like everything you wanted. You want- need- so much more. “Shoulda done this sooner,” your teacher groans out. “Shoulda- fuck!” He slams in you deep enough to have your eyes rolling back, hard enough to have your whole body shaking and your nails clawing across his desk. “C’mon, c’mon- take it- take it! Sensei is- Sensei is gonna fill you up- gonna give that needy cunt what it needs!” He’s gonna- he’s gonna- oh, god! Doctor Natsuo fucks into you faster and faster- the movements jarring you against the desk and making it rock, the jab of his cock rushing you to the height of pleasure again. You cry out as he slams into you- the tie falling from your lips as he drops it and forces you back onto the desk, slides his arms under you and grips your shoulders, fucks into you rough and deep and so, so perfectly. Warmth floods inside your pussy and you whimper as you’re filled with your sensei’s seed, twitch and come on his cock again- lashes fluttering and teeth digging into your lip to muffle your whine, honeyed insides milking his dick as if you need more. You do need more- you do. How could you have ever imagined one time would be enough to satisfy your fantasies? Your teacher pants and grinds into you- hot breath fanning over your cheek and his cock sliding out with a wet pop whenever he draws his hips back. You whimper at the loss but mewl when his fingers draw up your slit, slide back and down onto your knees as exhaustion slips over you. Fuck...fuck, did that just happen? A touch to your cheek has you looking up and you blink hazily at your sensei’s flushed cheeks, the shining and wet cock that he stuffs inside his trousers. “Satisfied?” he asks, slightly breathless and a groan hiding in his voice. “Going to be a good girl now? No more teasing sensei?” You nod, not quite thinking over the action or processing the words, only close your eyes when the slightest smile flits across his lips, when his fingers brush over your cheek and his gaze goes heavy lidded. “Sensei...” His fingers glance over your jawline and down low, stroke over your new hickey and bring a mewl. With your eyes closed, you can’t see the way his expression ripples with something hesitant and something curious, something...greedy. Strong hands help you up from the floor and you shudder as your legs tremble, press against his chest and look up at him with heavy eyes, a yearning that you can’t quite hide. He strokes your hair and it’s...nice. Unexpected from the way he reacted before, so very welcome. “...I was harsh with you.” The apologetic tone is also unexpected. Your professor seems to almost fluster, hesitates as he strokes your hair again and allows his grey gaze to look over your flushed cheeks and parted lips, the desire that you can’t quite hide. “...you were a good girl,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead and making you flush even more. “...you gonna keep being good? Not tell?” Of course you’re not going to tell. Of course you’re not going to risk this. You nod without any hesitation and you’re graced with a smile, another kiss that has you wanting to melt against him. “Then in that case...” You blink and watch as he breathes in deep, tilt your head as your heart begins to flutter in your chest. “Come over tonight. I can give you what you want properly.” He wants...he wants you to come over? He wants to fuck you again? You could swear it’s almost a smirk that forms on his face whenever your eyes widen and your breath catches. “I- I...yes, please.” He hums and he steps away- leaving you to stumble slightly and look at him in wonder, an unending adoration that you had pretended wasn’t underneath all your lust for him. “Good. But for now...” Sensei takes a deep breath and then he smiles at you- this time a bit wry, a little amused. “You’re going to be late for your next class.” Next class? Oh- oh shit! A squeak escapes you and you hurry to gather up all your stuff, shove your books in your arms and race toward the door. “Hey.” You freeze as you grab onto the doorknob and nearly tumble into it, look back toward your sensei. “I want you to call me Natsuo when we’re alone.” He- he what? Oh. Oh. You open your mouth, but the trilling of the bell cuts you off and you’re left only with the time to nod and flush, mumble out a soft, “Yes, sir” before you have to rush out the room. You head toward your next class with weak legs and cheeks red from where your sensei’s tie pulled deep into your skin, hair a mess and your teacher’s- Natsuo’s- cum dripping down your thighs. You smile as you rush off to your next class- happy and fucked, eager to see what Natsuo has in store for you later that night.

#natsuo todoroki x reader #rooni's shit #tw breeding kink #Anonymous

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